#but there's quite a few Jim and some Hollow

[teddybasmanov]

Hey, so literally nobody cares, but I organised my writing (AO3 and Tumblr titbits) and song takes masterlists by fandom, in case someone (who's not me) actually wants to find something on this blog.

[johnnparsons]

Summary: How different times in his life made Johnathan grow to hate Polly Pocket. He definitely did not watch the Barbie film.

A heavy door swings open and silences the room. A dark, detached stare lifts to acknowledge the locals enjoying their afternoon at The Tavern – a seedy, rundown pub in Walthamstow – then to the pub owner, Pete, standing behind the bar. Firm nods are exchanged between the men, and similarly to a conductor’s cue, after a few beats, the pub springs back to life.

“Y’alright, John?” “’Ey up, John.” “Howay, man” “John, mate!”

Griggs, Marmy, Thick Boy, and Jim. Four men Johnathan could rely on, to be the eyes and ears on the streets, and report back to him with anything that could be important. All they needed were some strollers and glasses of rose to fit in with the stuck-up bitches in Chelsea. Probably lose a couple of stone, too.

Johnathan drags a seat across the pub towards the end of the bar, in his usual spot, where he can lean against the wall, eyes cast downwards as he picks at the torn skin over his knuckles. Marmy appears next to him and grabs the tray with four pints. It’s the only type of reward that satisfies them. Wordlessly, Johnathan puts down a ten-pound note.

“Cheers John,” Marmy says and turns to leave, stepping over the shattered glass. Johnathan only responds with a grunt. It’s clear his mind is elsewhere. The men let him go wherever he needs to, they’d all been there when they were starting off.

“Why don’t you just go round, you fuckin’ pillock?” Thick Boy, ironically, the smartest of the bunch, though hard to tell from his harsh Geordie accent, shouts across the pub from his seat. “You’re makin’ more mess, like.”

“How about you get off your bloody arse for once, eh, Thick Boy?”

“To be fair, mate—” Griggs chimes in, then Jim finishes his sentence, “He’s right.” There’s a nod to the floor, and all eyes fall on the red stained footprints covering the loose wooden floorboard. When one starts laughing, the rest of them follow.

The men argue over who will do the mopping: Marmy created the mess but Marmy cleaned up last time, Jim is usually the one to always clean up, Griggs never leaves much mess, Thick Boy rarely moves. Whilst they’re distracted, Pete calls Johnathan over quietly, “Jonno, over here.” Pete is a short, chubby man with a round face and friendly features, but it doesn’t require much intuition to figure his patience shouldn’t be taken for granted. He is the kind of man you’d expect to run the local’s favourite, family friendly pub, rather than hosting men who have made bad decisions and in return have nowhere else to go.

Johnathan sighs, pulling the bottom of his shirt upwards to wipe the specks of blood off his face. “Not today, Pete. I know. Alright? I fuckin’ know.”

“You took it too far—" “Yeah, I know.” “He had a—"

“I said I fuckin’ know,” Johnathan’s voice booms, but the chitter chatter can still be heard in the background, “Didn’t I, mate? I fuckin’ know, and I can’t fuckin’ take it back now, can I? So what do you fuckin’ want me to do?”

“Listen to me.” The switch up in Pete is always too fast to catch. He has his hand wrapped round the collar of Johnathan’s t-shirt, pulling him up so their eyelines meet. There’s no room for pity here. “Last time, was the last time. This time, is your last chance.” His words are measured, balanced, but most of all, fair. “Don’t make an enemy out of me, lad.” Pete glances towards the men in their booth, then back to Johnathan, as if to say: or you’ll be getting a visit from them.

Out of pride, but not quite anger, Johnathan shoves Pete’s off him, “Fuck off, mate.” Pete’s grip becomes loose only because he allows it. He can see that John’s temper is reduced to a simmer and that his words are being heard. There’s a silent understanding, which Pete acknowledges by fixing up a glass of whiskey. “Merry Christmas Eve, lad.”

The first time Johnathan met Pete was around twenty years ago. He was a skinny boy with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, tears streaming from his eyes which was stinging the deep gash along his cheek. When are you going to learn your lesson, John-Boy? Unless you’ve found your fuckin’ mother, fuck off, his father had yelled at him, after having abandoned him for a week to drown his sorrows at The Tavern. It was then, when Griggs and Jim picked up a shaking Johnathan off the floor, and Marmy, Thick Boy and Pete did whatever they had to do. One blocked his view, the other covered his ears. To this day, Johnathan doesn’t know what that was exactly, and he never cared to find out. But it hadn’t stopped him from seeking out his father and it hadn’t stopped his father from taking out his grievances out on his son. All it did stop, really, was stop his father from enjoying The Tavern, which in return gave Johnathan a place to run to. If it wasn’t from his father, then it was after his fights, personal and criminal, until he grew into a man with a rabid sort of ferocity that no longer needed a place to hide, but a place to keep his secrets. Like today.

“Oi John,” Marmy calls out from the booth, and Johnathan barely looks over his shoulder. “We’d been talkin’, yeah—”

“And really, well, we were just waiting for the right time, weren’t we, boys?” Griggs says, then Jim and Marmy both nod, mumbling ‘aye, aye’. Thick Boy sits there like he’s surrounded by idiots, but he’s the only one without a pint in his hand, instead both hands are kept beneath the table. Jim brightly continues, “But we got something, something small, init, but it’s actually well nice.” A beat, then Marmy says, “We only just went and got your little girl a fuckin’ Christmas present.” Begrudgingly, Thick Boy brings out a box. It’s pink, or purple, or somewhere in between.

“What the fuck is that,” Johnathun grumbles, but it gets him out of his seat. He’s laughing, as he throws the box up in the air like it’s a football. There’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes, which the other older men could’ve probably related to back when they were his age, at thought of maybe, just maybe, his parents would let him see Zoe for Christmas. All he had to accomplish now was to not turn up drunk.

***

“What do you mean, you don’t fuckin’ play with Polly Pocket anymore?” Outraged, Johnathan’s hands go to his hips.

“I’m thirteen,” Zoe says, eyes narrowed. Her walls are full of posters of bands he doesn’t recognise, pop stars who look like gimps and probably wear makeup, and the toys on her bed have narrowed down to one: a teddy bear he didn’t get her.

“Yeah, and? I’ve got Polly for you every year!” It’d been ten years since Johnathan first gifted Polly Pocket to Zoe for Christmas. Since then, although he didn’t get to stay for long, he made sure she always had the newest edition in her possession. It had been worth it, to see the smile on her face. “This is from Porto! Do you know how hard it is to find one of these out there?”

“Uh... No?” She might as well have said: and I don’t fucking care.

“Christ, you’re a fuckin’ nightmare, you are. Nan and Granddad know about this?” Who, technically, were her great grandparents.

“Mhm.”

“Fuck me…” Johnathan blows air from his cheeks and takes a sip of his tea. It’s painfully silent. He can feel her staring at him, not particularly wanting him to say something, but maybe making him uncomfortable enough so he leaves. This isn’t exactly how Johnathan imagined their Christmas to go, however, so he slowly walks around Zoe’s room, pretending to keep himself busy whilst thinking of a conversation starter that might get more than three words out of her. But then:

“Johnathan?” “Dad.” “Johnathan.” “Dad.” “You know what—” “Alright, fine. John, then.” A beat. He’d be an idiot to mess up the one-time Zoe has ever asked him a question. “What is it?”

“Do you really want to give me a good Christmas present?”

“’Course I do. More than anything.” Something good to remember him by. Anything that might outweigh the bad.

“Can you tell me about your parents?”

The warmth and softness in his features quickly harden into something sharp and rough, visibly shutting down. “Zoe.”

“Please? Nan talks about her all the time. She only ever has good things to say.” It’s the first time Zoe has sounded so earnest, but Johnathan remains unwavering.

“Yeah, well, nan and granddad weren’t there, and you don’t need to know,” he says tersely. Not to fucking forget, they were her parents.

***

“Alright, alright. I’ll give it to her.” Johnathan gives in, and the guys cheers in celebration. “You sure kids like this shit, yeah?” He doesn’t need further persuading, but they reassure him anyway. A Christmas with your child, especially when they’re young, is special. They all know that.

An hour or two pass. Johnathan has returned to his seat, finding solace in somewhat solitary, with the Polly Pocket box placed to his side. Suddenly, and rather unusually, the pub door opens and he hears the sound of heels clicking against the floor. He could tell it was a woman from the whistling and the low coos heard from the other men, but he pays them no attention and keeps to himself. Any woman with an ounce of self-preservation would’ve walked straight back out the door, but the clicking of heels grows louder and it’s only when she sits next to him that makes him look up from his drink.

She exhales nervously and runs her hands down her skirt. It’s low, goes past her knees, ironed. From her hands, he can tell she’s older than him, closer to Jim’s age, but he can’t be sure.

“Hiya,” she says. Softly spoken, definitely smokes or smoked, poorly dyed hair but definitely not the type of person to enjoy this kind of pub. There are lines on her face that suggests a long and hard life lived. He could even see it in her eyes. It looks like she’s come straight from work, not an office so deep in the city but an office, nonetheless. Did she not want to be with her family, after working on Christmas Eve? “What a lovely welcome,” she laughs quietly.

Johnathan goes to look over his shoulder, as the crudeness from the guys were audible from where they’re sitting and tells them to shut the fuck up. He used to join them, back in the day, before he was legally able to drink and before he knew better, so their taunts of calling him a bore and acting like he’s better than them rolls off his back. “Your, uh—your label,” he points towards the tag sticking out of the woman’s blazer.

Mortified, her hands fly round to tuck the tag back in. The redness of her cheeks might’ve been attributed to the cold weather but now the tips of her ears match. “Oh my god, thank you.”

“You’re alright.” “That’s so embarrassing.” He shrugs. It wasn’t that bad. Worse things have happened in this pub. “I’m—I just, I must’ve forgotten to take it off,” she scrambles to explain. “It happens." “I hope I didn’t walk all the way over here with it out.” “Doubt anyone saw. No one here really cares anyway.”  “God, I’m so silly. I don’t know why but I always do that.”

An almost silent sigh. Way to fucking bang on about it. He could understand lying once, he was happy to play along, but lying again after he let her off easy was starting to piss him off. She was taking him for an idiot. “Want me to tear it off?”

“Oh, no. No, that’s alright. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”  “Wouldn’t bother me.” “Oh,” she laughs. “It’s okay. Thank you, though.” The corners of his lips quirk upwards, but only faintly. “What’s good here?”

Johnathan returns a blank stare, though underlying the pause there’s an apology, then he responds coolly, “If you’ve come here for a good drink, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

“Oh,” she laughs again, and it’s clear it’s a habit to just fill the gaps. “What are you drinking, then?”

He inhales sharply. Strangers, small talk, he was in no mood for bull shit, so he replies curtly, “Whiskey.”

“I’ll get you one of those, love.” Pete interrupts before Johnathan can speak again, and fixes him a look, as if to remind him it’s Christmas, and Johnathan responds with a look of his own that reads: Eve. The drink comes quickly and the woman looks up at Johnathan, hesitant, almost as if she wants to clink their glasses together, but it could’ve easily have been something else entirely. She simply smiles then takes a sip of her drink. “It’s very nice,” she says timidly, like she’s aware he never asked, “My dad used to drink this.”

Johnathan looks up then, twisting in his seat slightly, and lips part as if to say something but he decides against it. Smacking his lips together, he mutters, “Glad you like it.”

“Is that for your daughter?” She asks, tipping her glass towards the Polly Pocket box, smiling sweetly.

“Yeah,” he replies, turning to glance back at the present. “Yeah, something like that.” “How many kids do you have?” “Just one. A little girl.” “What’s her name?” “Zoe.”

“Zoe,” she repeats with a smile, but this time it felt like the smile was for herself, as if it meant something to her, to be saying the name for the first time, “that’s a beautiful name.”

A small crinkle forms between his brows, as the memory of picking out the name with Melissa comes flooding back to him, and he resigns by taking a large gulp of his drink. “You? You have any?”

“Kids? Oh, yes. I have, um, I have four.” “Bloody hell.”

“I know, it’s a lot.” She laughs quietly. “They’re lovely, though. Here, let me show you--” she digs into her bag to find her purse. She fishes out several photos, slightly crumpled, because maybe she tends to show them off to strangers in pubs. One is a family photo, must have been a birthday, they’re all surrounded around a cake and two of the kids are pretending to blow out the candles which hadn’t been lit. He spots the big smiles, tall windows and clean clothes, and can see why she would carry this photograph with her. Then she moves to the next photo, it’s her and three of her kids, on a beach. A family holiday, she says, and talks about how funny that moment had been and how grateful she was that her husband caught it on camera. The more she speaks, however, the more bitter he feels, and whilst he knows the deep resentment is misplaced he can’t quite help himself. So, when she moves to the next photograph, he abruptly cuts in, “Alright, I get it.” She looks up at him, wide-eyed, but seems to understand her mistake. “Your kids are lucky,” he says, less aggressive.

“I’m- I’m sorry.” Quickly, she tucks the photos back into her purse.

“Why are you here, then? Shouldn’t you be with them?”

She pauses, trying to be more careful with her words. “Oh, I was. Earlier. But I told them, I mean, they know. Well, I’m here to meet someone.”

“Meet someone?” He repeats incredulously. Who could she possibly be meeting, here, at The Tavern, that wasn’t here already? Another lie, he suspects.

“Yes, I know, I’m—well, I’m a little late. Oh, nevermind.” Despite the look she receives, which was one that didn’t hide how unconvinced he was, she holds her drink like she intends to finish it and continues the conversation as if her company is welcomed. This makes Johnathan think that she’s either incredibly stupid or incredibly lonely, or quite possibly both. “So, what do you do?”

He looks up at Pete with a look in his eyes that reads: save me. Pete responds with a small shrug, clearly holding back a laugh. It’s either the alcohol, or the fact that he is also incredibly lonely that makes him respond, “I work in construction. You?”

“Wow, that’s impressive.” “…Are you havin’ me on?”

“No! Not at all,” she protests. “I take it that explains your..?” Her gaze drifts downwards, nervously, from his ripped shirt to the stains and his battered hands.

After a beat, he replies simply, “Sure.” He wonders how long ago she’d noticed all the things she’d pointed out, what kind of explanations she’d come up in her head, and whether or not he needs to be concerned. The look in her eyes, though he may be reading her wrong, seems to be filled with worry, even more so as he catches her staring at the scar on his cheek. “Nosebleed,” he says, tugging on his shirt that has blood stains from earlier in the day. She lets out a sigh of relief, then her gaze returns to his cheek, concerned.

A deep sigh, and before she asks, he offers, “Uh, cut myself. When I was kid.”

Her hand goes up to cover her mouth. Fucking dramatic, he thinks. “How old were you?”

“Nine, ten. Something like that. Wasn’t a big deal, to be honest.”

“Oh god,” her hand twitches, almost as if she wants to reach out to graze it. Thank fucking god she doesn’t. “It must’ve been bad, if the scar’s lasted this long.”

“Yeah, well.” Johnathan finishes off the rest of his drink, unintentionally slamming the glass against the wooden bar top, which catches Pete’s attention and without a word, Pete refills Johnathan’s glass. Even without looking at her, he can tell that she wants to ask more questions. It’s Christmas Eve, he reminds himself, and maybe he’s trying to build some good karma for tomorrow, so he turns to her and asks, “What do you do, then?”

“Oh, me?” She tries to quickly gather herself, which is the only reason why he doesn’t quip back with ‘who the fuck else?’. “I’m just a secretary.”

“Right. You use one of them computers and all that?” She laughs, albeit meekly. “Yes, yes I do.” “Not doing too bad yourself, then. You work in the city?” “Oh, no. Well, thank you. But no, I work just outside of it. It’s, um, I work at Wilkinsons.” “Do ya?” He groans. “I hate that place.”

She doesn’t ask a question this time and simply takes another sip of her drink. They sit in silence, like this, for a while. But he couldn’t quite get himself to enjoy it. The woman seemed upset, for reasons he didn’t care for, but it was getting late and he figured this wasn’t the kind of place she should be at right now.

“It’s a bit rough round here, you know,” Johnathan says. “Shouldn’t come this way by yourself. Not this late.”

“I—I know, it’s been a while, since I’ve been around here.” He could tell from her voice that she’d been crying, or at least trying to hold it back. “But thank you.”

He shrugs, and he decides that this is all he can manage. He looks behind him, over at Griggs, Marmy, Thick Boy and Jim, who all quickly look away in unison and act like they’ve been talking this entire time. He wonders what would be more painful, to sit here or join them. He doesn’t think too long on it and decides to get up, but before he can leave his seat, another question shoots out from from the woman’s mouth: “Would it be okay,” she starts, which makes him stop, and she pauses as if to muster up the courage to finish her question, “if I asked you, what you were like as a kid?”

“What?” He blinks at her. “Sorry, I just—“

“Trouble,” Pete says, with that warm smile of his, and joins them on their side of the bar with a drink of his own. “Like you won’t even imagine, love.” Johnathan rolls his eyes, but Pete continues, “The number of times he’d come in here with all sorts of cuts and bruises.”

“Alright, Pete. Settle down,” Johnathan says, disgruntled.

“He was always crying and getting into some kind of shit,” Pete says, and though his eyes were on the woman, his words were for Johnathan, “And I was always getting him out of it.”

Tears began rolling down her cheeks, and she runs the back of her hand beneath her nose as she sniffles. “Where was your dad?”

“Left him!” “Pete.” Johnathan warns.

“His mam too. Then one day, he stops crying and he’s all grown up. Turned into a right little cunt, mind you. But look at him, doing what’s best for his kid. Better than all of us in here, I’d say.”

“I—I should go,” she says unexpectedly. Johnathan only notices now how her makeup has run all down her face. All of a sudden, she’s in a hurry to leave, as she finishes her drink and slips out of her seat. “I’m sorry, I—you’re right. It’s late.”

“You alright?” Johnathan asks, confused but also a little concerned.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry, it’s been lovely.” She puts on her coat and collects her things. Then, she pauses and brings out her purse again. “Can I leave these with you?” She asks, holding the photographs of her family.

His face twists in bewilderment and looks to Pete for some help. To which, of course, he offers none. “I—”

“Please,” she says, and pushes them into his hands. “This is a bit fuckin’ weird. They’re your kids.” “I know, I know, I just—” “He’ll have ‘em,” Pete says, unhelpfully. “You sure you’re gonna be alright? How’re you getting home?” “I know I seem a mess but I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’ll take a taxi.” From her purse, she takes out some cash to pay for the drinks. “Here, for both of us.” “No, no. On the house,” Pete says, and waves the money away. “Please, take it,” she urges. “It’s Christmas Eve,” Pete says, for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “I can’t possibly—” her hand has been pushed away so the cash goes back into her purse, but she makes another attempt to pay.

“On us,” Johnathan says, putting his hand on top of hers so she puts her purse away, but this makes her drop it. There’s a small thud once it lands on the floor. Some money, a card and another photo has fallen out of it. Johnathan reaches down to pick up her belongings, but when his eyes land on the photo, his whole body stiffens. Slowly, he stands back up, holding the photo between trembling fingers. There’s a glint in his eyes that Pete hasn’t seen since Johnathan was a child. “What’s this?” Johnathan asks, voice low and seething.

The photo is of him as a child, playing in the park with a woman and a man. He only recognises himself, from having dropped Zoe off at his grandparents, and they’d showed him pictures of himself as a kid, along with his parents, who were the woman and the man in the photo. The woman in the photo, which he can see now, having a resemblance to the woman standing before him.

“Johnny,” she whispers under stuttered breaths, “I can explain…”

***

The atmosphere quickly grows uncomfortable and tense. Johnathan, who had promised to himself to never lose his temper in front of Zoe and to only show her the good parts, was clenching his jaw and pushing his thumb into the palm of his hand. Unfortunately, however, Zoe had already seen it all. She stood tall and unphased, because even if he were to blow, she was desensitised by it all. It’s too much of a burden, for a thirteen-year-old, Johnathan recognises this and he tries his best. But every time he’s around her, he can’t help but feel that it’s never enough.

“She was here, earlier,” Zoe says bluntly. “What?” “She’s been coming every year. With her kids. They’re nice.” “What the fuck are you talking about?” Johnathan says.

Zoe sighs. “She gave me this.” She opens a drawer and pulls out several photographs. They’re ones he has seen before that night, in the pub. A few of her with her new family, and one of the one she abandoned. “They won’t tell me everything. They said she was sick and now she’s doing better. But I overheard them talking, her and Granddad, and they said you--”

Then, suddenly, Johnathan cries out, “I’m her kid!” A lump quickly forms in his throat, and then breathlessly, he says, barely audibly, “I was her kid.”

Zoe’s eyes are as cold as her mothers, and she looks at him like he’s weak for letting his emotions get the better of him. “You should go.”

“No, Zoe—” “Nan!” Zoe calls out, “Granddad!”

That evening, after being escorted out of his grandparents’ house and being told to never come back, Johnathan was arrested on a charge of assault and manslaughter, after getting into a fight with the first group of men he’d bumped into and beating one of them to a pulp in a fit of rage. It was in the news, and he’s sure Zoe heard about it at some point. Luckily, Andrew pulled some strings and he was released, but even then, she didn’t seem surprised when he next visited her.

***

The funeral chapel is small but there’s not an empty seat in sight. Johnathan can’t bring himself to believe that this many people have turned up. Every single one of these people, at some point, knew his mother and they had enough of a relationship to pay their respects. All of these people knew her better than he did. He sits three brows behind the four kids who, until today, he’d only known from a few photos. From what he can see, they’ve grown up to be the kind of kids she’d be proud of. They spoke to him, welcomed him, and thanked him for showing up. Johnathan, now nearing fifty, returned the respect. He carries himself better than he used to, whether that came with age, or money, or power, it didn’t matter. He could tell it’d caught them by surprise, however. He'd arrived in a range rover with tinted out windows, a driver who opened the door for him, and behind him was another car full of men in black suits who were sat at the back of the chapel. They didn’t ask questions, and they suspect it’s because they knew not to.

The service was described to be a celebration of life. Her husband and her kids all did well in staying strong and delivering speeches that made people both laugh and cry. They opened the floor up to anyone who wanted to say their final goodbyes. People from all walks of life stood at the front and spoke from their hearts or shared funny anecdotes, which Johnathan thought was a bit stupid, if he was being honest. Surely this could’ve been done at the wake, he had things to do, and if he was being honest, he was only here because Zoe had mentioned it to him and he wanted to see her. The husband, who weakly still held a smile, asked if anyone else wanted to go. Johnathan flicked his wrist to check the time, and Zoe bumped her leg against his.

“Sorry,” he whispered, but with a turn of the hands, as if to say, I’ve got places to be. “No,” she whispered back, “You should go.” “What?” “Go. Say something.” “Zoe, no.” “You’ll regret it.” “I won’t.” "Dad." But if there’s anyone he caves to, it’s his stubborn little shit of a daughter, and after some more badgering, he rises to his feet. The husband looks surprised, shocked even, then looks to his children. Johnathan could only see the back of their heads, but he assumes they gave him an approval of sorts considering the husband’s reaction.

Once he’s at the front, Johnathan clears his throat and gently tugs the collar of his shirt. “Hello everyone. My name is Johnathan,” he pauses, and rubs a hand along the brim of his jaw. “Laura… was my mother.” Several people look surprised. “I was her son. When I was eight years old, she left me at an Wilkinsons. She told me to wait there for five minutes, and if she wasn’t back then to go home. I didn’t know how to tell the time and I didn’t know what came after ten, so I had no way to know when five minutes would have passed.” That, surprisingly, earned a couple of laughs. “I stayed there, in the same place, until the shop was starting to close and I didn’t see Laura again.” Johnathan presses his lips into a thin smile, he supposes there was no point in telling people what happened after that. “Until, around twenty years later, she showed up at my local pub, dressed in this blazer that was too big for her with the tag sticking out. Mind you, it was probably the first woman that’d entered that pub in about twelve years. So, from the get go, I knew she had issues.” Another few laughs. “We spoke a bit. She told me about her family, her kids,” he nods towards them, sitting in the front bench, shedding a few tears, “She asked lots of questions. It’s a bit of a blur, now, if I’m being honest, but one thing I remember clearly is she asked what I was like as a kid,” he says, rather solemnly. He didn’t know it at the time but now he knows she was just trying to get to know him, and she was trying to show him that she was doing better, that she knows how to be a mum. A memory flashes in his mind, of when the photo of them had fallen out of her purse, and how he’d slapped her before she got a chance to explain. It hurts now, knowing everything. “I wish…” The words are caught at the back of his throat. He’s not confident he’ll be able to say what he wants to say. “I wish I could forgive her. I don’t know if I can, but I understand her better now.” He looks at Zoe, someone who probably won’t ever understand why he’d done the things he’d done, even if it was for the best. “I’m glad she got another chance,” he lies.

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and an old drunk man wobbles in whilst yelling profanities. Gasps and whispers fill the room. Johnathan nods towards the men sitting at the back who promptly escorts him out of the room, and he makes an effort to settle the chaos in the room and bring the services to a smooth finish.

As groups of people leave the chapel and transition to the wake, Johnathan waits outside.

“John?” Zoe calls out. “I’ll be there in a sec, love.” Johnathan nods, urging her to go along.

A black range rover pulls up outside the gates of the funeral chapel. From there, they could see the top of the hill where the service was held. Sat on the drive is the old drunk man, who somehow had managed to get a hold of a bottle of vodka. The window rolls down and Marmy pops his head out of the window, “Oi oi, what we do we have here?”

“Ahh, Marmy, my fuckin’ saviour, you,” the old drunk man slurs his words and gets up from his seat.

“Aye, get in here.”

The old drunk man opens the door and climbs into the seat, rambling about what a fucking day he’s hard. Wordlessly, Marmy locks the doors, then says, “Have at him, John.”

The old drunk man turns to his side, and only then notices a larger figure sitting next to him. “John Boy?”

Slowly, Johnathan looks up at the man with a cold stare, fixing his knuckle duster on top of his leathered glove. “Been a while, dad.”

[thefirst3chapters]

Rewatched the Seinfeld finale, and there are some interesting thematic connections to Gilmore Girls, particularly in the arena of main characters being interpreted as The Best or The Worst. Both shows feature absurd and occasionally dark humor, quick and witty dialogue, have a diner as the designated food establishment, and had a largely negative reaction to their endings. Lauren Graham and Scott Patterson were both Seinfeld guest stars. Notably, the creators of both shows have said or alluded to writing their main characters as never developing or continually having the same problems.

Seinfeld finale recap: The four main characters (Jerry, Elaine, George, and Kramer) are flying to Paris and make an emergency landing in a small East Coast town (it's the same WB lot as Stars Hollow). They snicker as someone is mugged in front of them and are arrested under a new "Good Samaritan" law. In court, characters who appeared throughout the show come out in droves and testify the ways that the four main characters were cruel/negligent/selfish/inappropriate, and they are ultimately sentenced to a year in prison.

So Seinfeld has been analyzed far more knowledgeably and thoughtfully than this, but it is interesting that the finale's clip show format plays out like the multitudes of "10 Times X Character was The Worst" videos and articles out there. It is common for audiences to identify with main characters as they watch a show (of course not every single person does, but many do), and after nearly a decade of seeing stories through the main characters' points of view, the show decisively states as its final message that these characters are guilty of quite a few wrongdoings.

With shows that leave room for interpretation regarding the morality of their characters, particularly Gilmore Girls, a dichotomy of extremes can form: 1) The main characters are always right and any interpretation that isn't from their point of view or sympathizes with other characters as much or more than them is automatically wrong or 2) The beloved main characters are actually irredeemably awful because of all the bad decisions they made, the other characters deserve better than being around them, and fan interpretations should call them out because the show didn't (cue: "Adulthood was realizing that Lorelai Gilmore / Rory Gilmore was the real villain"). This sort of thing has happened with Jim & Pam from The Office, the Jedi Order in the Star Wars prequels, and probably other media too. Those are just examples that personally come to mind.

This dichotomy takes away opportunities for nuance, and Gilmore Girls in particular leaves room for the audience to sympathize with virtually every character in at least some situations. The main characters are featured the most, so it isn't necessarily surprising to see them making the most constructive and destructive choices.

In a show where the creators intentionally write characters to not grow, what happens after the credits roll? Do they stay the same forever because they are really The Worst, or do they learn something from their experiences and become better? A sort of tragic but still open-ended final episode leaves the latter option as a possibility, whether or not that's what the creators want to imply, and it is nice to think that there is potential for an optimistic future for the characters.

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Embrace the Chase

Daddy? Was that guy really serious, grumbled Dan to himself as he took himself off home alone. The gay scene was such a bizarre place and Dan had struggled to find his way within it. Having only recently decided to explore his attraction to guys, at the grand old age of thirty, he had frequented many different gay venues and left them all feeling completely out of place. He couldn’t help feeling that he had missed out when he was younger; fresh out of the box and ready to take on one sexy guy after another. 

Like his father before him, Dan’s hair was prematurely turning a little gray in places. He began to feel like an old man amongst a sea of slender, fun-loving gay guys, who clearly felt none of the guilt about their sexuality that had plagued Dan’s life up until now. Going to the big gay clubs had certainly been an error. Being over twenty-five seemed to automatically discount him from being flirted with. If he got up on the dance floor, he felt the judgemental eyes of them all, wondering what the old guy was doing there. But even the small successes were hollow. To the girls, Dan’s pepper gray hair made him appear distinguished. However, here the rules were all different here.

Dan had to admit that he hadn’t expected it all to be so hard. He had his boyish good-looks and an athletic build, with strong shoulders from his many years of playing the drums for his old band. His dress sense was a little dull, he realised, looking at some of the outrageous things a few of the boys were wearing out. However, he didn’t want to draw attention to himself in the way that some of those guys clearly craved. That was how he came to find a bar, tucked away on a quiet back street, that he felt much more suited to. Here, the men were a mix of older and younger; the beer was good and the music didn’t suck quite as badly as everywhere else. But that didn’t mean that it was perfect either. There was an odd hierarchy that Dan couldn’t immediately put his finger on. On a Friday night, a noisy crowd of large, bearded men sat at the table below the front window, chatting loudly with their big, booming voices and seeming to know every person who came in. They watched them all, seeing the inevitable drama unfold, whilst nursing a beer in their large hands, resting on their guts.

“Come sit with us,” a large, tall guy ordered as Dan looked around the room, clearly alone. Dan had only been there a minute or two, and yet he already got the sense that he was being invited to sit at the ‘cool table’. 

He sat down shyly, but the large, boisterous personalities gathered around soon drew him out of himself. They hadn’t been put off by how new Dan was to the scene and they were the only ones who seemed to be able to hold a discussion about cars and decent music. Dan clicked with them straight away, but he was still an odd fit, sat there with them all. The old boys were not in the sort of shape that was conventionally thought of as attractive; all of them, every last one, was carrying a large, rounded stomach that filled their lap when they sat down. In fact, it was odd how cool they were about being so big, and how little it seemed to affect their confidence or bravado.

“Put your tongue away,” laughed Roger, seeing Dan checking out a cute, skinny guy across the room. “It’s bro-code, you don’t want to upset Jim, checking out his ex.”

Dan pulled a face, waiting for the punchline that never came. “Jim… you dated that guy?” he asked in disbelief. They must have been playing with him. Jim was in his mid forties with a 400lb body and gut that literally could have passed for a beach ball.

Jim squinted at the dance floor and then nodded in recognition. “Oh, yeah, um… what’s his name?” he asked the gang.

“Harry,” a couple replied.

“That’s it!” Jim nodded. “He was fun. Nice and flexible!”

Dan felt like the rules had been turned on their head again. He tried to consider how to phrase what he wanted to ask, without coming across as rude. If this had been a straight venue, there was no way a huge, fat guy like Jim would be taking away the pretty, young, fit girl home. “Was it just a drunk, one night thing?” he asked.

“No,” chuckled Roger. “Jim dated him for about three months. I was only joking about the bro-code though. If we implemented that rule, there would only be a couple of guys left in here for you to flirt with.”

“You really don’t understand the whole bear thing, do you?” Vern laughed, mindlessly running his hand over the large expanse of his monstrous gut. The guys all laughed, looking thoroughly pleased with themselves and Dan simply laughed with them. He liked his new friends, even if he didn’t quite understand them.

Being so much further on in their careers, Dan’s new friends had a lot more disposable income than he did; newly single, renting a crappy little apartment to save the embarrassment of having to move back home after breaking up with his girlfriend. Dan felt like the pauper of the group, struggling to scrape enough money for a few beers with them on a Friday night.

“Ah, here he is!” Roger called out, the moment Dan walked in. “He’ll take the cabin.”

“Cabin?” Dan asked, feeling a little alarmed.

“We’re going on a cruise in two weeks, but Roger’s buddy had to pull out. So, it’s yours if you want it?” asked Paul.

Dan flushed a little red and felt awkward to reply. “Thanks, but, there’s no way I can afford that,” he mumbled, wondering how pathetic he must have sounded.

Roger pulled a face. “The cabin’s already paid for, buddy. We just need someone who can get two weeks off work at short notice. If you can make it, it’s yours.”

The guys started giving the cruise the big sell. They’d done it every year and could answer any of the questions Dan had about it. He felt awful, accepting something so big from guys he’d only known a few weeks, but he was humbled that they liked him enough to offer such a gift. “Sure,” he smiled. “Why not?”

Dan could hardly believe his luck when he looked around his own cabin a few days later. Going on a cruise vacation had seemed like something so far out of his reach and yet, here he was. Before long, there was a knock at his door so loud and firm that Dan knew exactly who it was right away. Upon opening up, he was greeted by the sight of four of the guys, strolling straight into his cabin.

“Sorry to give you the smallest room,” Roger said cheerfully. “But you’re the smallest guy, so it made sense” he grinned, rubbing his own large gut in a way that seemed completely habitual.

“It’s perfect,” Dan smiled back gratefully, suddenly sensing that his once spacious and breezy cabin now felt more than a little claustrophobic with these four enormously overweight guys in here with him.

“We’re going up to Paul’s favourite restaurant,” Vern explained.

“What you’re wearing is fine,” Roger jumped in, leaving Dan in no doubt that they expected him to come along.

Dan grabbed what he needed and followed the large men down the long corridors and up onto the deck. The sweet aromas from the many restaurants flooded the entertainment spaces and the hungry boys were eager to get started. Dan had made the mistake of following the crowd and ordering similar quantities, not realising that the portions would be so big. He struggled after some time, finding it amazing that the guys around him had eaten so fast and were still chatting away as if all this food wasn’t affecting them at all. His mouth chewed, but there was no enjoyment to be had from it. His stomach was tight and even swallowing felt laboured. 

“Geez! Help the boy out, would you guys?” Vern called from the head of the table.

Dan looked up, realising that Vern was gesturing to him. Chubby hands came in front all around; the remaining food disappearing before his eyes.

“Don’t worry, man,” Roger offered, slapping Dan on his back as if he was someone to be pitied in that moment. “It’s all inclusive, so just order as much as you want. There’ll always be one of us greedy lot to help you finish! ”

Following the other guys up to the deck, Dan sighed quietly as he realised that they had all decided to head up onto the deck for a swim. His stomach felt so bloated and full, Dan just felt like he needed to lie down in his cabin for an hour. But, remembering that he hadn’t paid for this vacation, he dutifully collected his swim shorts so that he could join them. 

The sun was shining but the deck chairs were easy to find. “Geez! You’re all skin and bone!” Jim laughed when he saw Dan gingerly taking off his shirt. 

Dan immediately put his hand to his bloated stomach, feeling anything but skinny at that moment. But, looking around him, with all the guys and their rounded pot bellies and ball guts, he supposed that he probably did look tiny in their eyes. 

“Don’t worry. A couple of weeks with us will soon sort you out!” Vern chuckled, rubbing sun cream onto the shelf of his gut. However, just then, his attention was caught on a waiter who strolled by: skinny and probably no older than twenty; even Dan’s gaydar was lighting up; that tight little ass of his practically crying out to be fucked as he strutted about the deck. It was uncanny how, even here, Vern seemed to be getting checked out, sat there like a hairy beached whale on his deck chair. “Chaser alert!” Vern whispered, seemingly very pleased with himself. He stood up, waddled over to the bar and immediately started flirting until the guy handed over a napkin for Vern to write his number down on.

Dan watched from the side, completely fascinated. Just how did Vern do it?

“You coming in for a swim?” asked Sam; one of the crowd that Dan had only met that morning for the first time. Being the closest in age to him, Dan could sense that he was going to get on well with Sam during the vacation. The guy hadn’t seemed quite so overweight with his shirt on; however, now Sam was only in his swimming costume, it was plain how much of a swollen, hard-looking pot belly he had on him. It looked odd on him, like it didn’t quite fit, and it was littered with tiny little stretch marks that Dan had never seen on a guy before.

“No swimming on a full stomach!” Jim called out before Dan could answer. overhearing the conversation. “Sit your big ass down, Sam!” he laughed.

Sam nodded, almost obediently and tapped his forehead like his inclination to go for a swim had been a bad one. He sat himself down on his deck chair, like the others, and rested his hands on the top part of his rounded gut. “Is someone getting the beers?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, boys!” came Paul’s voice. “Beer and snacks are on their way!”

Dan simply lay back, glad that he hadn’t had to make an excuse for not going for a swim. He accepted his ice cool beer gratefully and tried to rest his eyes as the sun stroked his skin.

Within a few days, the guys had seemed to sniff out every gay guy aboard the ship. Vern had regaled the story of how he had seduced the waiter, whilst Paul, Jim and even a few of the others, had found their own romances to engage their time with.

Sam seemed to be the only exception to this. More than anyone else, he seemed to spend his time eating under the watchful eye of someone else in the gang. There was some sort of power dynamic that Dan couldn’t quite put his finger on. Sam appeared subservient to everyone else and he picked up, more than a few times, knowing looks between him and the older guys.

“Did Sam make it for another lunch this afternoon?” asked Jim, looking around at the others.

“He’s a little late, but he’s up there now with Paul, getting something,” Vern replied, checking his watch.

Dan’s brows furrowed as he licked the large ice cream cone one of the guys had brought over for them all. The more time he spent with the guys, the less he understood them at all. Why would they care about Sam’s eating schedule? It was as if they all enjoyed holding some sort of power over the guy, and Dan gradually became convinced that their preoccupation with Sam’s diet was a part of a kind of domination play between them all.

“You okay?” Dan asked as Sam joined him later that evening at the bar, getting another beer, away from the rest of the table.

“Never better,” Sam replied, sounding anything but. He seemed almost short of breath and he rubbed his stomach as if it hurt. Wearing the same shirt as he had worn on the first night, Dan was almost a little embarrassed to be stood there next to him. The cruise was clearly having an impact on Sam’s waistline. The buttons strained and his portly stomach, that had been fairly concealable at the start of the cruise, now seemed to have amassed a new spherical shape to it, pushing itself forwards like it was graduating into something much more imposing.

“Is everything all right with you and the guys?” Dan asked, feeling concerned. “I can’t help getting the feeling that they sometimes…” He paused, trying to think of the right word. “It sometimes seems like they bully you a little.”

Sam smiled and held back a laugh; his double chin forming as he did so. “Yeah, yeah…” Again, he seemed like he was trying not to laugh. “It’s all good, man. When you get to know the guys a little better… you’ll understand, trust me.”

“Understand what?” Dan asked, feeling more confused than ever. But just as Sam seemed about to answer, Vern’s loud voice sounded from across the room. 

“Hey, Dan, don’t bother getting another beer. We’re heading off for some waffles,” he shouted, standing up along with everyone else.

Dan’s eyes lit up. He hadn’t realised how much he was in the mood for something sweet until Vern had said it. “You coming?” he asked Sam.

Sam exhaled as if psyching himself up for something. “You bet I am!” he nodded.

“Shit!” Dan exclaimed as he dressed for work the day after getting home. He stood in the mirror, flabbergasted at how difficult it was to button his dress pants up. He squeezed the two sides of the material together and growled, seeing for the first time how much blubber had formed on his stomach. Standing back after finally succeeding, he stared in horror at the small, fleshy love handles that dripped ever so slightly over the waistband and turned to gaze in disgust at how much fuller and more padded his butt seemed, filling up the material. This wasn’t an isolated incident; every one of his pants appeared to fit with the same embarrassing tightness. He’d stepped on the scales; eyes widening as he saw the number climb up twenty pounds over his usual weight. Who the fuck gained twenty pounds in two weeks?

Dan had expected everyone to comment on his weight at work. To him, it seemed obvious: the puffier cheeks on his face, his chest, butt and, of course, that frustrating little paunch that seemed to have arrived from nowhere. But, bizarrely, no one had commented, and it was only when Dan was back with the other guys at the bar that Friday night that he finally got the whole thing off his chest. He’d never known them all to be so quiet, listening intently as he recounted trying to get his pants to fit and his alarm at how much he had gained.

One by one, the guys all shared similar tales of tight clothing since they had got back and the atmosphere seemed to change completely. The guys were all closed in on each other, rather than pursuing the crowd of guys on the dance floor below as they usually did. Their talk seemed intimate; almost erotic.

Standing at the bar that night, Dan felt a hand brush against his love handle which, despite choosing the loosest shirt in his closet, still seemed rather apparent. He turned to see a cute-looking guy he’d seen at the bar a few times before, smiling at him flirtatiously as he walked along to the dance floor.

Returning to his seat with the guys, Dan noticed the hot guy making eyes at him while he danced. “I think I’m getting flirted with,” he whispered to the boys, turning his head and nodding back in the direction of the young guy who had smiled at him at the bar.

Immediately, the guys all grinned. “Oh, Kevin!” they all laughed, seeming a little impressed and yet unsurprised at the same time. “Yeah, you’re exactly his type after your little vacation gain.”

Dan looked at them perplexed.

“He likes the dad-bod types,” Vern explained. “When you chat to him, push your belly out a little bit more. He’ll be putty in your hands.”

Now it was Dan’s turn to laugh, stopping only when he saw the blank faces staring at him. “You’re joking, right?” he asked.

Vern sat back a little. “Fine, don’t believe me,” he smiled, raising his hands innocently. I’m only much older and wiser than you, what do I know about how to seduce guys?”

Now it was Paul’s turn to jump in. “Just trust us,” he stated earnestly. “We’ve known Kevin a good couple of years. Just push your belly out a little. He won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

Dan still wasn’t sure if he was the subject of some elaborate joke, but as he stood up to make his move on the handsome young guy on the dancefloor, he didn’t hold back his stomach as he had done the rest of the week. Then, as Kevin’s smile got wider and wider as he approached, Dan did something he would never ever have believed he would do. He pushed a little with his gut, making his stomach seem even more bloated than it had already become. “Hi there,” he smiled. “Fancy a dance?”

It took less than a few minutes for Dan to work out that the boys had been absolutely right in suggesting to him that he emphasised his newly padded stomach. As he and Kevin slipped over to the side of the dance floor, Dan could feel the hot guy’s hands exploring his body, rubbing over his small paunch and love handles, moaning with appreciation.

“How come I’ve not seen you around here before?” Kevin asked between kisses.

“I’m here every Friday night,” Dan replied, only a little offended that Kevin had not noticed him until now. “Maybe… maybe it’s because I’ve gained a few pounds recently,” he smiled, taking Kevin’s hand and putting it back on his stomach, where it had been roaming around for the last five minutes.

The lust in Kevin’s eyes was more than plain to see. “I think it really suits you!” he marvelled.

Dan enjoyed the feeling of being in the centre of such love and adoration. He pushed his stomach out even more. “So do I,” he nodded, staring at Kevin’s sexy lips that he wanted to kiss again. “So do I.”

It had been so long since Dan had had good sex! He hadn’t realised how much he had needed it until afterwards. He strutted about the next week feeling like he was king of the world.

“So, what time does Kevin usually show up here?” Dan asked the guys as they settled down for their Friday night drinks.

The guys rolled their eyes. “Forget Kevin. He’s just a hot mess. You can do better!”

“But… you were the ones telling me to go for it last week,” Dan grumbled back.

“There are plenty of other fish in the sea,” Jim laughed, swiping his hand, showing of the slowly building sea of guys in the bar.”

“Take your pick,” Paul added. “Between us, we’re pretty much experts on all of them. We can help you get whoever you want.”

The idea intrigued Dan and he looked around. “There was a guy in the corner who had always caught his attention in the past. Tall, slender and with the face of an angel. “What about that guy?” he asked with interest. The guys squinted towards the back and clarified which of the boys Dan was referring to.

“That’s Jake,” Paul nodded. “He’s a chaser. He’s more into guys bigger than you. Although…” he pondered,sitting back to get a better sideways look at Dan’s stomach, “...you have clearly gained a few pounds recently.”

Vern shook his head dismissively. “Nah, no chance. I’ve never seen Jake hook up with a guy less than two hundred pounds.”

“What are you now?” Paul asked, sounding almost hopeful on Dan’s behalf.

“One-eighty,” Dan mumbled.

“Not too bad then,” Vern nodded. “A couple of weeks and you would be big enough to be in with a shot with him.”

“What? You mean, gain twenty pounds?” Dan scoffed. “I’d never get laid again!”

“This bar is full of chasers. It’s famous for it. Why do you think it’s always so packed, even though the big gay venues are ages away? Trust me, in here, you get fat, you get laid!”

Before now, Dan hadn’t really understood the whole ‘chaser’ culture that the guys would occasionally reference. He recalled in his mind how fixated and horny Kevin had been, rubbing his hands over Dan’s swollen middle. He wasn’t about to rush out and gain a whole bunch of weight just for the sake of it, but those ideas fermented in his brain over the coming weeks, making it easy for him to not do anything about the pounds he had gained over the cruise. Besides, he had other matters to think about. Thanks to all of the advice of his new friends, Dan had networked his way up the career ladder and was starting to feel his finances ease slightly. The price for that came from the many evenings he was spending at his desk, catching up on training and upskilling himself for his new roles. The idea of joining a gym was laughable and takeout meals became all too convenient. 

For most single men in their thirties, gaining weight would have been a disaster. But, for Dan, the experience seemed to coincide with the biggest uptick in his sex life that he had ever experienced. He was so close to two hundred pounds, why not just… let it happen? It felt so freeing and empowering to let go of the anxiety and self-imposed rules that he had always had about his eating habits. Now he could eat what he wanted, when he wanted. The years of hiding his attraction to guys and caring so deeply about what other people thought of him had left him feeling exhausted. Most of his old friends had drifted away after he finished with his long-term girlfriend and now, more than ever before, Dan needed to be completely selfish. He wanted to experience the awesome sex he should have been getting all those years ago when he was too shy to embrace his sexuality. He loved sex, he loved guys, he got on better with his new friends than he ever had with his old ones. Life could be so sweet if he just allowed himself the freedom to take it.

“What did you think of those beers I sent over?” Jim asked.

“Yeah, they’re great!” Dan nodded, delighting in the fact that Jim’s job gave him ready access to such strange perks; like free packs of European beers that he was more than willing to share with his buddies. “Nothing better than coming home to a couple of fresh beers every night,” he nodded gratefully.

One by one, Dan saw the guys’ eyes drift down to his little paunch. A few months ago, he would have squirmed awkwardly, but in this group, having a gut was a source of pride and masculinity. Yeah, he was getting a beer belly, but so what? His fuller figure was also making him one of the most popular guys at the bar. There was just something about having a guy get so horny, rubbing his gut; it was a phenomenon he couldn’t really put into words. Finally bedding Jake last weekend had properly cemented the idea that Dan didn’t want to go back to his old lighter, punier body.

“You should come over to Vern’s place on a Wednesday night and have some pizza with us sometime,” Jim grinned, looking around at the other guys.

“He’s not ready for that yet,” Vern shot back, giving Jim a harsh, warning look for making the suggestion.

“You guys meet up every Wednesday?” Dan asked, surprised that none of them had ever mentioned it before.

Vern sighed and decided to level with Dan right there and then. “You’ll get your invite, don’t worry. I just think you need to get to know us all a bit better first.”

Dan was about to ask Vern what exactly he was referring to; after all, surely he knew pretty much everything about the guys by now. But at that moment, his attention was caught elsewhere. A stunningly hot guy had just strolled in: young, tall, pretty and athletic, he seemed to have the best parts of all the best guys in here, all rolled into one. “Who the fuck is THAT?” Dan spat; his tongue practically hanging out. “Please tell me he’s a chaser too!”

The guys all looked across, then chuckled, looking at each other. “That’s Robbie,” Paul explained. “He must be back from college.” He paused, as if wondering how to phase what he wanted to say next. “He’s a chaser, alright. But… he’s definitely a bit too kinky for the likes of you.”

“Do you reckon I’m in with a chance?” Dan asked, sitting up properly and feeling an urgent need to go and try his luck in chatting the guy up before someone else pounced on him.

“Careful, Dan!” Vern cautioned as the guy stood up to make his move. “Paul’s right. Robbie may be little too kinky for you to handle.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” Dan asked as he stood behind the handsome young guy at the bar.

Robbie turned, delighting Dan as he looked him up and down, grinning with approval at what he saw. “Well, hello there!” Robbie sang back playfully. “You can certainly buy me a drink,” he smiled.

Raising his arm for the bartender’s attention, Dan realised that he had never felt so excited to be chatting someone up before. He’d heard the guys’ warnings, but what did it matter? However kinky Robbie could be, he was all up for it. Robbie was someone he just had to have; just look at that tight ass and bulge in the crotch!

“So, how come I’ve not seen you here before?” Robbie asked, accepting his glass and gazing confidently into Dan’s eyes.

“I’m only here on Friday nights,” Dan replied. “Plus, if you were here a few months ago, you might not recognise me now.” He patted his stomach, which he pushed out a little in the hope of ensnaring the gorgeous chaser. “I’ve put on a little weight recently.”

As chat up lines went, the weight thing was definitely a strange one. However, Dan always found that it worked like a charm for him. Guys were always interested to hear about his new belly and eager to compliment him on his look. Robbie appeared to be no different. The words landed on him and lit up his face like a slot machine. “Freshly fattened!” he teased, reaching his hand out to rub Dan’s little paunch. “You hanging out with the big guys over there?” he asked, pointing back at Vern and the rest of the guys. “No wonder you’re packing on the pounds!”

“They’ve certainly opened my eyes a bit,” Dan nodded, deciding to rub his belly; knowing that it was his best feature to keep a guy like Robbie interested. They took the drinks into a quieter corner and chatted flirtatiously for the next hour, until they could stand it no more; getting a cab and heading back to Dan’s place for the rest of the night.

Robbie was so much more into the belly than any of the other chasers Dan had been with. In the cab, his hands had slid underneath Dan’s shirt, before he finally unbuttoned it as they kissed. He grabbed at the new fat, pinching it and jiggling it; growling with lust. But Robbie was so incredibly sexy; Dan’s dick ached for him. Wanting to head straight into the bedroom, Dan felt dismayed when Robbie wanted to slow things down and sit on the couch, kissing.

It was hard to not feel like a king, sat there on his couch, legs spread and having Robbie working him to perfection with his mouth. The guy had found some ice cream in Dan’s freezer and seemed to enjoy the sight of him eating it. More than once, Robbie got him quite close to climaxing, but the experience kept rumbling on. After the ice cream, Robbie found some chips, then chocolate and other snacks. His hands kept rubbing over the increasingly tight stomach and he lifted his head up to kiss it and worship the small belly as often as he could.

Things seemed to switch as Robbie took him into the bedroom. Dan had the exciting feeling that he was being controlled. His gut was surprisingly heavy and full. When Robbie offered to sit on his crotch and do the hard work, Dan didn’t complain. He lay back against the pillows, eyes rolling into the back of his head as Robbie’s tight, perfect ass cheeks slipped over his dick.

“Open up,” Robbie whispered, grabbing one of the cupcakes Dan had bought for his work friend’s birthday and forgotten to take with him that morning. Dan obliged, feeling that he would do anything in that moment for the gorgeous guy gently bouncing on his dick. “I love guys who know how to eat like you can,” Robbie went on, delighting in the huge, enthusiastic bite Dan took, desperate to impress. 

Once again, Dan felt ready to come, and yet that moment never seemed to arrive. Here he was, six cupcakes down and still feeling on the edge of it all. 

“Let me fuck you,” Robbie suddenly suggested, climbing off Dan’s hardness. 

Dan took a moment to catch up. He’d rarely been asked to do this by the guys he’d brought home, but there didn’t seem to be any inclination in his head to refuse. Rolling onto his front, Dan felt sluggish as he went onto all fours, presenting his spread butt cheeks for the incredibly sexy guy he had brought home. He winced slightly as Robbie’s thick erection worked its way inside him and then slowly built up momentum.

Dan’s gut felt heavy as it sank down to the bed. He could feel all the weight he had gained over the past few months, rocking, jiggling and bouncing a little as Robbie took over the fucking. More than that, he could sense Robbie watching it all; his fingertips gently sliding over the flesh of his love handles and underneath to find his belly.  “Mmm, I love fucking fat guys!” the chaser growled with surprising authority.

Feeling his dick leaking, Dan realised that he had never been dominated like this before. The feeling was overwhelming; giving up control, letting someone else do whatever they wanted to him. So when Robbie’s hand stretched to grab another cupcake, Dan willingly opened his mouth to take it whole. Robbie’s fingertips pushed it into his mouth as the guy’s hips continued to pound.

“That’s it!” Robbie called out. “Eat like a fucking pig for me!”

Dan didn’t really know where it came from, or why. Feeling the desperate need to please, his mind conjured the image of a little pig and he immediately snorted like one as he chewed the cupcake still pressed against his mouth. As he did so, he felt the throb of Robbie’s hardness and the guy physically shook with lust. Abandoning the cupcake, Robbie’s free hand now went straight to Dan’s hardness, milking it with a speed and determination that the guy knew could only have one inevitable conclusion. He needed to come; he’d never been so horny in his life. He oinked encouragingly, hoping it would spur Robbie on to let him finish. He squealed and grabbed at the last cupcake himself, smashing it into his mouth.

“Oh… FUCK!” Robbie marvelled, working his hips, leaning over Dan’s back and stroking his hardness furiously. They both made an almost pained sound as the feeling of climaxing overtook them. The pleasure was so great, so powerful and long lasting. When Dan finally flopped back into his bed, he knew that he would need to do that again sometime. And again. And again.

“So, we heard that you and Robbie had a good time last weekend,” Jim asked with a coy smile.

Dan eyed them all suspiciously. “Yeah,” he nodded. “He sat on my dick very nicely!” he explained with the masculine bravado that he always tried to use when discussing his conquests.

“Really?” Vern asked, chuckling a little to himself. “We heard that he stuffed you full of cupcakes and then fucked you while you oinked like a little pig for him.”

At once, the guys all erupted into laughs; the ones closest to Dan slapping him on his back.

Dan hated the way the guys all talked in here. No intimate moment was a secret. “Well, it wasn’t quite like that,” he tried. “There was a lot of build up and stuff…” he fumbled, trying to salvage his reputation with the boys.

Sat next to him, Jim patted Dan’s belly, which looked and felt bigger than Dan had ever known it. Three times last week he had been horny and invited Robbie around for more fun. “Oh, we heard all about the build-up too,” Jim grinned. “Cakes, chips, ice cream…”

Once again, a roar of chuckles sounded around the table. “Relax!” Vern finally declared as Dan could feel his cheeks flushing red. “We’re all kinky as fuck when it comes to food and sex. We’re just glad we don’t have to hide it from you anymore.”

“I can’t even come unless my gut is packed tight like a drum, full of food,” Jim immediately jumped in, nodding knowingly. 

“My ex used to wake me up at 3am every morning to get me to drink a calorie shake and blow me off,” Paul agreed.

“And as for Sam…” Vern chuckled, looking around at the group of guys. “Well, let’s just say, he’s a very good little eater when he’s horny!”

Dan thought back to the younger guy he had met on the cruise. Sam never came out with them on Fridays as he was always working, but Dan remembered how intrigued he had been with the guy’s relationship with the other men. 

“You should come over to my place next Wednesday,” Vern announced. “You can see how little Sammy is doing now,” he grinned excitedly at the others.

His curiosity piqued, Dan nodded, pleased that he would be getting the opportunity to at least catch up with Sam again.

There was a manly cheer as Dan stepped over the threshold of Vern’s penthouse apartment that next Wednesday. Vern’s shirt was missing and as Dan stepped around the corner into the living space, he could see that none of the other guys were wearing one either. Chubby, blubbery flesh was everywhere as the guys lounged all over the two large sofas. Vern grabbed a plush chair from the dining table and Dan sat, slightly detached from the group, but still very much a part of it. 

“What pizzas do you want?” Jim asked, throwing over a large tablet screen for Dan. Already the amount of pizzas the guys had added was astronomical, and with their fat bellies out, it was obvious that this was going to be quite the feast.

“No shirts allowed on a Wednesday night,” Roger called across the room. “Those are Vern’s rules.”

Dan looked up at Vern who nodded in agreement. He huffed slightly but felt a strange sense of excitement. There was a smell of lust and anticipation in the air that Dan felt strangely aroused by. He pulled off his shirt, allowing his small paunch out, rubbing it a little self consciously as the guys all cheered in approval. He didn’t quite know what to do with his arms. How could he own his look when he was so new at this and so much smaller than everyone else?

“Do you remember those first thirty pounds, Vern?” Jim asked, gazing with an odd nostalgia at Dan’s small pot belly.

“Barely!” Vern chuckled back, slapping his monstrous tank of a stomach. “I quickly moved on to bigger and better things!”

The intercom sounded into life and Dan heard the distinct tones of Sam asking to be let into the building. He sat up a little, pleased that he would get to see his buddy again. The pair of them had formed a nice friendship during the cruise, but had not seen each other since. 

Seeing Sam turned out to be the biggest shock of the night so far. The guy was greeted at the door by Vern. But as the big man stepped aside, Dan got a full view of what had become of the chubby boy Dan had met a few months ago. His shirt was far too small for him, which probably made Sam look even bigger than he was. It was obvious what Sam had been doing since Dan had last seen him. The guy had been eating hard. A large, stout belly sat under his chest, pushed out now into a jiggly looking sack. His love handles had exploded above his hips and his chest had puffed up with blubbery looking nipples. Even Sam’s face was harder to recognise now he had a full ring of fat under his chin.

Dan stood up, his mouth open in shock. But as the freshly fattened guy spotted him and walked over, it was Sam who chuckled in surprise. “What the hell is this?” he laughed, outstretching his finger and prodding Dan in his little paunch. He then reached his arms around Dan and gave him a quick hug in greeting. Stunned into silence, Dan could only feel the mass of Sam’s large gut pressing into him. “The guys told me you’ve been putting on a few pounds recently. It suits you!” he smiled, patting Dan’s middle in approval. 

“You can talk!” Dan finally managed to say, staring now at the huge gut on his friend.

Sam smiled proudly and lifted off his shirt. His stomach jiggled as the material picked up his gut and then slid off it. Dan could hardly believe his eyes. Sam looked even fatter without that tight shirt on. “I’m getting there,” Sam nodded, fingering his deep belly button. “But I still have a long way to go. I’m excited you’re here though. I was wondering how long it would be until you got an invite to one of my stuffings.”

“Stuffings?” Dan mumbled. He was confused by the word, but Sam had already moved on to greet the other guys, who all commented excitedly on the guy’s gut and patted his surprisingly broad and plump butt.

The conversation moved on and it was only when the pizzas arrived that anyone moved again. Several were placed down on Vern’s enormous coffee table and all of the guys reached forwards and began gorging greedily. Dan had forgotten the seriousness of how the fat guys ate. They were stacking the pizzas and nibbling quickly, taking massive bites. The conversation stalled, as each one ate as if they were worried the supplies would dwindle before they could eat enough of it all. Greasy hands reached over each other, patting and rubbing the bellies and Dan could even see Jim getting a hard-on, right there in Vern’s lounge. But, sitting in the chair opposite, Dan could see Sam working just as hard as any of them. He was guzzling and chomping on the pizzas as if this was the main event of his week. Sodas and beers were being slurped. It wasn’t long until a chorus of burps began erupting throughout; pride seeming to derive from the biggest and loudest of them. 

Dan stacked his pizzas too, feeling a strange expectation for him to conform. He could feel his stomach tightening, yet he continued to eat, noticing that no one else had given up yet.

“I managed twelve,” Jim finally announced, looking exhausted and stuffed.

“Fourteen!” Vern grinned with a look of superiority.

Dan listed as the other men reeled off numbers. It took him a few moments before he realised that they’d all been competitively counting their slices. They looked at him in turn, making Dan stutter out a number he had rounded up so as not to look silly in front of them all. “I did ten,” he lied. The number was the lowest so far, however, they all still nodded in approval.

Pretty soon, Sam was the only one still eating. Vern stood up, placing a fatherly hand on the back of the guy’s neck, watching keenly as Sam continued to push the pizza in. “That’s it. Good boy. Keep up this pace,” he said encouragingly.

All eyes were on Sam. Vern’s hand smoothly rubbed the distended gut and Sam’s eyes smiled in gratitude. 

“What’s that?” Dan asked as Jim carried in a funnel, alongside a large quantity of thick brown liquid in an enormous measuring jug.

“Vern’s special recipe,” Roger replied, grabbing a handful of his own belly fat and jiggling it as if in explanation.

Sam seemed to spot the funnel coming towards him and he gently placed his head back on the cushion on the chair. He parted his lips and left his mouth open, however Vern’s hand still grabbed his cheeks, pushing his fingers against them so that Sam’s mouth would not be able to close. Jim slotted the funnel straight into the open-mouthed boy and held the jug aloft. Then, without a word said, he began pouring.

The mixture was even thicker than Dan had guessed. It slopped into the funnel and slid down the sides. As soon as it reached Sam’s tongue, he began swallowing. Dan could hear the great effortful gulps as the funnel filled more and more. Sam’s hands fell onto his belly, as if he could feel it inflating with every swallow he made, yet Dan could see that the guy’s eyes were locked with Vern’s the entire time.

Sam had made a serious dent in the amount of thick liquid in the jug and as he finally finished the last of it left in his funnel, he moaned softly as it was pulled out of his mouth. A noisy, entirely involuntary burp roared from his throat making everyone, Dan included, chuckle with amusement. He’d worked out what this was about. Sam clearly wanted that belly he had grown and the other guys were all in on supporting him with that goal.

The other guys immediately began clearing the coffee table of pizza boxes and Sam stood up, looking a little unsteady on his feet and still burping up the gas from his stomach. No one batted an eyelid as he slipped down his shorts and underwear, stepping out of them entirely. The guy’s dick wasn’t all that big, but it was clearly as hard as concrete. Vern gave his chubby butt a little pat and then Sam’s knee bent as he actually climbed onto the coffee table. On all fours, he moved up until his fat body was on display like cattle before them all. If his head had not been lowered, he would have been looking straight at Dan. 

A large tray of cream-filled doughnuts were carried in and Roger immediately grabbed one, sitting forwards so that he could push it slowly into Sam’s mouth. Now that Sam’s head was up, his eyes met with Dan’s and, for the first time, Dan could see the lust within. He let Roger’s fingers press the doughnut in and he swallowed it with absolute obedience. 

No one seemed to be in the least bit surprised at the events unfolding and none of the men were making an effort to explain it to Dan; being far too caught up in the spectacle themselves. Vern, who had briefly disappeared from the room, returned, carrying a large dildo in his hand. He rubbed oil into it, standing at the opposite end of the table, where Sam’s butt cheeks were splayed for him. Without much effort to ease him in, Vern pressed the lubricated toy straight into Sam’s butt, making the man sigh with pleasure, even as the other men stepped up to take a turn pressing doughnuts into him. Pretty soon afterwards, Roger was oiling up his hand, reaching it under Sam’s body and finding its way to the guy’s hardness. A deep moan sounded from Sam’s throat and Dan watched as the man’s eyes rolled up into his head.

“Easy, Roger. Not too fast,” Vern instructed.

“I know what I’m doing,” Roger chuckled, using his other hand to grab Sam’s hanging belly fat and jiggle it. The blubber rippled all over the guy’s body, giving Dan the chance to see just how much pure lard had been packed onto Sam’s form over the last few months. He watched calmly, wondering how he would have reacted had he been invited along to something like this a couple of years ago. These days, he couldn’t judge. He’d eaten and gorged himself with Robbie in a manner not too wildly dissimilar. He’d enjoyed letting Robbie feed him and getting off on taking control, just like Sam was now. Maybe that was why Dan’s dick was leaking just like everyone else’s.

“Your turn,” one of the guys whispered to Dan, passing him a doughnut to feed Sam.

Dan fumbled for a second, having not expected to be invited to participate like this. Sam’s eyes looked up at him, waiting. Dan slid off the chair, onto his knees in front of Sam. He thought about his experiences with Robbie recently and how much that horny bastard would probably get off on doing something like this. And so, Dan pushed that doughnut in, just as everyone else had done. Roger seemed to speed up his pleasuring of Sam at that very moment, so that as Dan’s fingers pressed the doughnut into the greedy open mouth, Sam was writhing and swallowing with pleasure. Without even thinking about it, Dan grabbed another, pressing his whole doughnut-filled hand over Sam’s mouth, stifling the moans of pleasure as Sam came, looking straight into his eyes.

“I told you to take it easy!” Vern grumbled at Roger. “He hasn’t even finished my gainer shake mix yet!”

Roger didn’t reply. He simply nodded in the direction of Dan’s crotch, where his hardness was pulsing furiously against the material of the pants. “I just figured the newbie needed a win tonight,” he chuckled. “I’m guessing that you enjoyed that, Dan?” he asked, sounding pleased with himself.

Dan could sense all eyes on him. The entire focus of every one of them shifted. He had never felt so exposed in his. Yet, it was all so erotic.

“Take your pants off,” Vern ordered, pulling the dildo out of Sam’s butt so that he could get up off the table. “We can’t send you home with that boner ready to explode like that. Paul, go rinse out the funnel.”

Dan sat up, eyes wide with realisation that Vern was absolutely serious. The water was running in the kitchen as Paul set to work, cleaning up the funnel for HIM! “Maybe another time,” he stuttered, feeling his heart racing.

“Nonsense!” Vern spat dismissively. “Get your pants off.”

Dan did as he was told, feeling strangely submissive as his dick bounced out and showed itself to all of the guys at once. These people were his friends and he wasn’t massively attracted to any of them; yet, the situation he found himself in was one of the most erotic he had ever known.

Roger used a towel to wipe off his hand and the coffee table. But then he was oiling it up once more; this time for Dan. All of a sudden, the large looming figures of both Vern and Roger seemed to surround him. He looked over at a completely spent Sam, flopping into the armchair; the remains of the last doughnut still smashed over his mouth. If that was what they had done to him, what on earth was he in for?

“Robbie would be squirting all over himself if he was here to watch this!” Vern chuckled to the other guys.

“Wait! I’m really not sure about this!” Dan tried. “Doing this stuff with Robbie is one thing, but…you guys are my friends.”

Vern laughed and placed his hand on Dan’s shoulder. “Trust me, Fatso,” he teased. “For the next ten minutes, I’m not your friend. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. You’re just going to drink a little calorie shake and bloat a little. Roger here is going to work his magic hands on you and you’re going to have an awesome time.”

“Ready to give it a go?” asked Roger; his oiled up hand positioned, ready to start.

Dan slowly nodded. What did he have to lose?

Immediately, Dan’s whole body shook as Roger’s hand started stroking his shaft. His eyes widened and he made an involuntary sound of complete shock and surprise at how immediately stimulating the fondling was. Throughout the room, men laughed watching the reaction. They clearly all knew how skilled the guy was in this area and were simply waiting for Dan to feel what they had all experienced as well.

“You like that, huh?” Vern called from above. He licked the end of his thumbs and leant over so that he could place them both on Dan’s nipples, rubbing against them gently.

Dan moaned again. He couldn’t get over how sensitive his nipples actually felt. No one had ever played with them like this before. He felt Roger’s free hand clamp over the roll of belly fat he had amassed over the past few months, looking up at Vern like he wanted to laugh. It made Dan feel exactly the same way Robbie managed to make him feel: like he wanted to submit, to give in to everything those around him wanted.

“Are you a good little piggy?” Vern asked him, using that same teasing voice that Dan had heard him use with Sam.

Dan nodded, trying to speak but finding his brain was almost too foggy to stitch any words together. It was then that he felt Vern’s finger lifting his chin up; his other hand pushing down on his forehead. Already his head was being positioned, resting back entirely on the back of the chair. He felt Vern’s fingers pinch his cheeks, opening the jaws. Dan’s heart was beating fast. He looked up at the ceiling before seeing Jim coming in to view, carrying the funnel from earlier. Dan watched the spout as it lowered and fell perfectly into his mouth, hitting his tongue and resting between his teeth.

“You’ve just got to swallow it, buddy,” Dan heard Jim’s voice state. He also felt a new hand rubbing his bloated stomach, before giving it a gentle couple of pats and then retreating. 

Just then, Dan felt the heavy weight of the thick liquid hitting the funnel. It oozed down and didn’t hit his tongue for a good couple of seconds, but once it did, Dan could feel it filling his mouth quickly. It was sweet; so sweet and gooey and creamy. Dan swallowed, almost in a panic, racing to keep up before he became overwhelmed. He felt Vern’s hand tenderly stroking his hair as if to calm him, whispering softly. “Atta boy. Keep going…”

The funnel seemed to go on forever. Dan could hear Vern trying to coordinate Roger down below, telling him to slow down, take longer and deeper strokes, or speed up and focus on the head. They’d clearly practised this many times, for their technique was faultless. 

“Robbie is going to be so pleased,” Vern called out to the group. “Look at his little piggy now!” he laughed, as Dan felt a large hand stroking his belly.

Dan swallowed, swallowed, swallowed. He could feel how tight his stomach was getting but concentrated only on the blissful feeling of the funnel getting lighter and lighter above him. Vern lifted it out of his mouth, allowing the last drops to dribble over his face. Dan lifted his head and looked down at his body. What had they done to him? His stomach had never looked so huge in his life. Roger was there, smiling up at him as he sped up his stroking, going in for the kill. Dan went to moan with pleasure from it all when the gas from his stomach rose up, loud and long, seemingly without end. That was when he came, right there at the start of that monstrous burp, his hands exploring the tight, bloated stretch of his gut. He felt the jets of ejaculation as they flew up onto his shoulders and down onto his new belly. Still Vern’s hand stroked his hair soothingly; reassuring him that this was all okay.

Accepting a towel to clean himself off, Dan had expected to feel shy afterwards, but the guys had already moved on. A couple of the other men had been playing with themselves whilst watching Dan taking the funnel and they came not long afterwards as well, taking the focus away from him. All Dan could do was gaze down at that marvellously round belly on himself. He felt the size, rubbing the sides and over the top of it. He imagined how much the chasers would love him if his belly was always this big; how turned on it would make Robbie. He knew then that he needed to see how far he could go with this, reaching out and slyly taking one of the doughnuts as one of the other guys came, rubbing his own enormous gut.

The pinch of Dan’s clothes had become a frustrating and yet highly erotic sensation. The week that followed was filled with more mixed emotions than Dan could ever have anticipated. He turned to look at his thicker middle in the bathroom mirror at work; conjuring feelings of revulsion and delight at what he was becoming. He twisted more, getting a look at his butt. His pants felt so tight around his hips, his glutes puffy and round. Robbie had told him how much he loved to fuck a big, doughy ass on a guy; those words now singing through Dan’s brain as he felt himself getting hard. He lifted his cell phone from his pocket and snapped a picture of his reflection in the mirror. Robbie was bound to come over tonight if Dan played his cards right: ate the right things for lunch, promised to be a good little piggy for him. ‘How’re you liking this fat ass?’ he typed as he attached the picture into Robbie’s message; breathless with anticipation, waiting for the inevitable, horny response that would follow.

Dan felt pride as he took off his shirt at the next Wednesday night gathering. Vern had been working away for the last couple of weeks and the transformation of Dan’s little paunch in that time had been strangely remarkable. He’d seen Robbie almost every night and was riding a vast, unimaginably erotic wave of pleasure in giving into the kinky guy’s demands. Everyone commented on how bloated he was looking. They patted, rubbed and offered their approval, expecting the same appreciation when their shirts came off too.

“Where’s Sam?” Dan asked as the pizzas arrived and there was still no sign.

All of the guys looked guiltily at each other. “He can’t make it. He’s working,” Jim simply replied.

“Oh,” Dan mumbled. “I thought the purpose of these nights was to…” He looked around, realising that the guys had sat him in the same chair they’d placed Sam last time.

Vern was walking back to the couch with a bottle of beer and placed a large, calming hand on Dan’s shoulder as he went behind his chair. “Don’t you worry about Sam,” he stated soothingly. “He knows he’s got a good stand-in,” the big man chuckled to the other boys.

Dan’s heart was racing as he ate, feeling the eyes of all the men drifting back to him, seeing how much he was eating. He thought of how he would recount the tale of tonight back to Robbie and make the guy rock hard; ready to fuck him in that rough, dominating manner that Dan simply couldn’t get enough of.

After a while eating, Vern was back behind Dan again, this time rubbing oil all over his torso; his hands sliding over the new softness Dan had acquired. “We’ve got to grease up the pig!” Vern joked to the other guys. When Roger appeared at his side, Dan knew they were ready to start the funnel again. He stood, slid down his pants and then sat down again, spreading his thighs a lot more, like a pro. He was still nervous, lifting his head to the ceiling and waiting for the funnel to be placed into his mouth, but this time the butterflies in his stomach were undoubtedly those of excitement. 

“The mix is slightly different to the one you had last time,” Vern explained as he was handed the jug. “You’re at a different stage to Sam and this mix has never failed me for guys still gaining their first sixty pounds. It fucks the metabolism right up!” he chuckled as he started pouring. 

Yet again, Dan was swallowing. This recipe wasn’t as thick, but it filled his mouth faster and he had to gulp it down at a very brisk pace in order to stop it from overflowing from where Vern was still mercilessly pouring; Jim steadying the funnel in his mouth. He was allowed a short break where he burped up the gas he had accidentally swallowed with it. Roger coaxed him on, massaging his dick to perfection, but he could tell, even as the last drops fell into his mouth, that he wouldn’t be allowed to climax yet, even with his gut feeling ready to burst. The sensation was even more intense than it had been last time. He grumbled, holding his aching gut and trying to burp up more gas in the hope of finding relief. He couldn’t take anything more tonight.

“Hi, Robbie,” Vern chirped, talking to the screen of his cell phone. “We’ve got your little piggy here, telling us he’s too full.”

Dan looked up, shocked and amazed to see Robbie’s face staring at him from Vern’s cell phone. Immediately, his heart fluttered and his dick pulsed.

“Oh, dear!” Robbie called out in his most deliciously dominant voice. “What’s he had so far?”

Vern took the cell phone back up to his face. “Eleven slices of pizza and about…” he considered for a moment, trying to calculate in his head, “...maybe two thousand six hundred calories in gainer shake. Your piggy is feeling pretty bloated!” he chuckled wickedly.

“Let me talk to him,” Robbie demanded.

At once, the cell phone was held up in front of Dan’s face. He sat up, feeling like he might be in trouble, but was excited to hear how kinky Robbie might get with him.

“Climb up on that coffee table,” Robbie ordered.”Spread your cheeks. I’m going to fuck you whilst you eat for me.”

There was a gentle wave of chuckles around the room and Dan saw one of them heading off to get the dildo he’d seen Sam take last time. Boxes of pizza were cleared from the table and Roger tapped the surface of the wood. “Come on up, little piggy!” he teased. The guys on the other side placed their hands down on the table, helping to balance it whilst Dan, unbelievably, found himself climbing on. Vern took the cell phone camera on a tour of the whole thing. “Robbie told you to spread those cheeks properly,” the fat man declared, tapping Dan’s wider butt until he wriggled his knees further apart.

Dan felt cool lube getting massaged by chubby hands into his hole; the cell phone capturing it all. He braced himself for the penetration, feeling more exposed than even last time.

“Just relax,” Roger whispered, already taking his hand back to stroke Dan’s dick. Only when he moaned did they insert, That was when the pleasure seemed to turn up more than Dan had ever expected. Vern’s cell phone was brought to his face and there was Robbie, staring at him victoriously. It really was like being fucked by him.

“Feed him!” Robbie called out to the room. 

Right away, Dan felt a doughnut getting pressed into his mouth by Paul. He opened his jaws obediently, chewing and swallowing as fast as he could; staring into the eyes of Robbie, who had clearly started to touch himself as he watched from across the city. Several times Dan thought he was going to come, but he was always brought back. Another doughnut, another pizza slice, another chug of soda to wash it all down. Only when the stretch became almost agonisingly tight, did he feel the powerful release, making him moan so loudly it was as if all awareness of his surroundings had abandoned him entirely.

“I did warn you about Robbie,” Vern chuckled as he cancelled the call. He stroked the back of Dan’s head as he still presented himself on all fours on his coffee table, completely diminished. “Pretty soon, you’re going to be just as fat as the rest of us…”

It was a few months later, when Vern’s attention was caught on a new guy at the bar. He wasn’t following the conversation at all well, but seemed deep in thought. “Not your usual type,” Dan commented, following Vern’s gaze over to the guy, looking like he was in his mid thirties and completely lost in this bar. He was handsome in his own way, but his flat stomach was never going to get him any attention in here.

“I’ve got a feeling about that one,” Vern grinned.

“Really?” the guys all asked, looking over at the loner at the bar. 

“Am I ever wrong?” Vern smiled, looking more certain than ever. “I know a potential pig when I see one!” He wrapped his arm over Dan’s shoulders and pushed his hand into the rounded gut that had blossomed on the guy he had introduced himself to just over a year and a half ago. The fat Dan had gained in that time had completely transformed him. He sat, nursing a beer on the new shelf of his belly, with love handles that touched both Vern’s and Roger’s to either side of him: over one hundred pounds of pure lard added in the last year alone; his dick and feeder boyfriend hungry for more. He could have told Vern to leave the guy; to spare him from all of this: the mind games, the subtle training and manipulation that they had worked out so perfectly between them. Instead, his dick throbbed as he watched Vern make his first move, inviting the guy to sit with them. 

It was amazing how the small talk was almost exactly the same as it had been that first time Dan sat with the guys. They were charming, they were funny and friendly. They were already playing their games.

An hour later, Roger went up to get a beer and Dan’s sexy boyfriend slid in, having just arrived that night. Dan lifted his big arm up over the guy’s slender shoulders and allowed the feeder’s hand to slide across the tank of belly he had grown. They kissed in that drunkenly erotic way that always happened after midnight; hands roaming everywhere. When Dan came out of it, he saw the new guy looking on, perplexed. Although he didn’t say anything, Dan could tell exactly what the newbie was thinking in his head; wondering how such a lardass like him could get himself such a stunningly hot boyfriend.

“Let’s go back to your place,” Dan’s boyfriend insisted, slyly pinching his love handle from behind.

“Right, guys…” Dan called to the table, standing as best he could and manoeuvring his large butt out to follow his kinky feeder to a cab. “I’ll catch you all on Wednesday.” He reached over and shook hands with the new guy, leaving him in Vern’s capable hands; knowing with absolute certainty that in a few months time, they’d all have a brand new piggy to play with. Then, placing his hand on the tiny butt of his boyfriend, he left them all; feeling that familiar hunger in his stomach that he always got when he was horny. He was sure he would have to eat a lot of food before he was allowed to climax later, but he was absolutely ready for it. And always would be.

[lenievi]

[spock/mccoy] finding a cure

This is For the World Is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky missing scenes kind of a fic set between Spock finding the intelligence files on Yonada and the very last scene. I wrote it last year and it might actually be one of my favourite things I’ve ever written (at least it makes me feel all kind of things in any case). It’s 4k, half is written from Jim’s POV and half from Spock’s.

I like to imagine that it took Spock a few days to find the cure in the Fabrini files, so that’s what the fic is about. I guess you can say it’s quite angsty, but it’s 100% canon compliant, so no worries.

Spock/McCoy and Kirk&McCoy is the focus. (with some show typical triumvirate-y feels)

#angst. #unresolved emotional tension. #friendship. #hurt/comfort.

[ao3 link] as For This Space Would Be Hollow If You Were Gone 

--------------------

i. Jim

When Jim entered the lab, the tension inside could be cut with a knife. Spock’s back was straight as an arrow and his shoulders tense as he looked at the large screen in front of him. McCoy was leaning against a table at the other side of the lab, his arms folded. He was frowning, and his piercing blue eyes were focused on Spock’s back.

Under different circumstances, Jim would turn back and leave them be, for – as amusing as their bickering often was – he wasn’t interested in getting caught in one of their petty squabbles. This time, however, it was McCoy’s life at stake.

For the last two days, Spock and McCoy were shut in the lab, trying to find a cure to xenopolycythemia in the Fabrini database Spock had brought back from Yonada. Jim left them alone, but the silence had become unbearable.

“Mister Spock, have you found anything?” Jim asked, coming to stand next to Spock. Half of the screen was full of the Fabrini symbols Jim remembered seeing around Yonada, the other half contained Vulcan writing – pleasing to look at but entirely incomprehensible to him.

“My work would go faster if Doctor McCoy left the laboratory,” Spock said, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“You’re not a doctor, Spock.” McCoy snapped. “Do you even know what you’re looking for?”

“I am familiar with the disease.”

“The database is ten thousand years old!”

Jim suppressed the need to sigh. “Gentlemen.”

“Doctor, it is not efficient to question me every five minutes,” Spock continued as if Jim hadn’t spoken.

Jim frowned, looking from one man to another. McCoy stood as far from Spock as physically possible in the small lab, and there was something different, something raw in the tones of their voices, suggesting that whatever had happened before Jim came wasn’t one of their meaningless sparrings Jim considered a waste of time.

He straightened, and before McCoy could react to Spock’s words, Jim said, “Mister Spock, I’ve asked you a question.”

Spock’s fingers, lying on the desk, twitched as if he wanted to curl them into a fist. Jim’s insides twisted uncomfortably. If Spock’s control was slipping…

“No, Captain,” Spock answered coolly. “I have not.” He put his hand into his lap.

Jim didn’t look at McCoy. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to see the acceptance on McCoy’s face. He didn’t want to see the cold mask of a surgeon that only hid the worst news. 

“However, there is still forty-three percent of the database to search through,” Spock added, and the screen in front of him changed. 

Despite the situation, Jim admired Spock’s ability to focus on his task. They were on a tight schedule. In a week, they’d arrive at Starbase 17, and McCoy would permanently leave the ship. Jim had already requested a replacement, as demanded by the regulations, but if there was a possibility to cure McCoy’s condition, he needed to inform the Starfleet Command as soon as possible. For that, he needed Spock to find a cure. Any other option was unacceptable.

“Let me know the moment you find something,” Jim said and turned to McCoy. “Bones, come with me.”

“You can’t be serious.” McCoy straightened, his hands falling down his sides.

“Spock said you weren’t needed here.”

“Just because he wants to do everything himself doesn’t mean –”

“Doctor,” Spock interrupted, his voice tense and controlled. “Your presence here is disruptive. Go with the Captain.”

A faint dusting of red colored McCoy’s cheeks. He opened his mouth. He closed it again, angrily rocking on his feet.

“Fine,” he said and moved toward the door. “Fine.” The door opened, and McCoy stopped, his shoulders dropping. “Coming, Jim?” he asked, tired and defeated.

For the first time since Jim had come, Spock’s eyes left the screen. They landed on McCoy’s back. It lasted only a few seconds, then Spock bit into his lower lip – a habit Jim hadn’t seen for over a year – and faced the screen again without a word. Not for the first time, Jim wondered if McCoy knew how dear he was to Spock.

He let out a sigh and put a hand on Spock’s shoulder. “We’ll be in my quarters.” He gave Spock’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and followed McCoy out of the lab.

*

They walked in silence. McCoy wouldn’t speak without being prompted, and it suited Jim not to talk in the corridors. While McCoy didn’t care for decorum and oftentimes blatantly questioned orders that would make – and had made – his service difficult on a different ship, he was still the Chief Medical Officer, and Jim didn’t want the whole ship to be overrun with more rumors.

He nodded at the passing crewmates, remembering to meet their eyes, but his heart wasn’t in it. Seeing Spock and feeling the tension in his muscles made it harder to ignore the situation, for Jim could really be losing McCoy for good. First to regulations, then to xenopolycythemia. Losing a crewmember was always hard, but losing a friend, losing McCoy…

No, he couldn’t even think about it. He fisted the fabric of his pants. Until Spock said that he exhausted all possibilities, Jim would continue believing. Nothing was lost yet, and he trusted Spock to find a cure.

Jim straightened and smiled at the Lieutenant who greeted them.

When they arrived at Jim’s quarters, Jim let McCoy inside. Without asking, he took out a bottle of whiskey, he’d kept for a special occasion, and two glasses from his cabinet.

At the sight, McCoy raised his eyebrow. “Isn’t that wasteful?” he asked.

The traitor of Jim’s mind whispered that it could very well be one of the last opportunities to have a drink with McCoy, and he pushed the thought down. Hard.

“I can get another one at Starbase 17,” Jim said, opening the bottle.

“Not like that one.” McCoy sat down and unzipped his collar. The black undershirt peaked out.

“If you don’t want to drink...”

“I didn’t say that.”

Jim smiled and poured both of them a glass. He didn’t spend time alone with McCoy since the moment McCoy had informed him of his condition. There were so many things he wanted to say, things he wanted to ask. Most of them were things McCoy wouldn’t want to discuss, and for now, Jim didn’t want to alienate him. If this week turned out to be McCoy’s last week on the Enterprise, Jim didn’t want them to argue.

Whereas the arguments between McCoy and Spock rarely seemed to have any consequences, there were a few times when an argument between Jim and McCoy caused McCoy to distance himself and avoid talking to Jim outside of a professional capacity. Those moments were far and few between, but Jim didn’t want to tempt fate.

“What happened between you and Spock?” Maybe not the safest topic, but Jim’s curiosity got the better of him. Despite McCoy’s outward grumpiness, there was something about the way he got when he talked about Spock, and Jim hoped it could break the ice.

McCoy looked into his glass as if it was hiding the answer to Jim’s question. “Nothing happened. Everything’s peachy.”

“Yeah, I could see that.” Jim held back the urge to roll his eyes.

“Look, Jim,” McCoy said, putting down his almost untouched glass of brandy. “I don’t know. I don’t know what he’s thinking. I don’t know what he’s –” he stopped himself and wet his lips. He took a deep breath and continued, “I don’t know. He got it into his head that there’s a cure, and he’s going to find it.”

“You don’t think there’s one?”

“Seems like wishful thinking on his part.” McCoy shrugged.

“That doesn’t sound like Spock,” Jim pointed out. And yet carrying a sliver of hope was something Jim had seen in Spock many times before, even though Spock kept denying it again and again.

“You’ve said it yourself,” Jim continued, watching McCoy over the edge of his glass, “you want to go and look for a cure.”

“I’m not going to sit and wait for the inevitable death.” McCoy took his glass again, his knuckles white.

“Wasn’t that how it’d go if you stayed on Yonada?” The bitterness and accusation in his voice surprised Jim. Even two days later, McCoy’s readiness with which he’d stayed behind on the planet didn’t stop bothering Jim.

Jim understood loneliness. He understood the need for company. To be where he was now, he’d said a great many farewells, had given up a great many things. He’d lie if he said he didn’t have any regrets, never imagined a different life, but he had a job to do and so did McCoy.

“What do you want me to say, Jim?” McCoy avoided looking at him. “That I didn’t think it through? That I was being selfish? Can you blame me?” 

Jim knew McCoy had joined Starfleet because of a ruined marriage, and his next serious relationship didn’t end happily either. There was only one time, almost two years ago, when McCoy had allowed himself to loosen up and openly flirt with a crewmember and date her for a while. It was a short-lived affair, and Jim wasn’t privy to the details, but since then, McCoy hadn’t shown an interest in any member of the crew, and in contrast to the start of their five-year-long journey, McCoy stopped staying the night on any planet or any starbase Jim had chosen for a shore-leave.

“I just don’t understand, Bones.”

“Don’t understand what? An attractive woman wanting me?”

“That’s not it, and you know it.”

McCoy sighed. “I’m here now, aren’t I?” McCoy downed his drink.

McCoy wasn’t telling Jim everything, but could Jim begrudge him wanting to spend the rest of his short life with someone who appeared to want him?

Jim rubbed his eyes, letting out a sigh. “What would you have me say to your daughter?”

McCoy looked at him sharply, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Seconds passed, neither of them breaking eye contact. Bringing up McCoy’s child was a low blow, Jim knew that, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“I’m not going to apologize,” McCoy said, downing his drink. “I did what I thought was right.” He sighed. “And... it’d be better for her to remember me as she does now. A child shouldn’t be burdened with –” McCoy’s glass landed on the table with a loud clink. “The last weeks aren’t pretty, Jim.” 

Jim finished his drink and poured them another. “Spock will find a cure.”

McCoy, grabbing his refiled glass, gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

*

Jim awoke. The light in the cabin was set on low. He squinted at the chronometer. Three-sixteen. He straightened and kneaded the back of his neck, letting out a sigh. He was getting too old to fall asleep at the desk. Trying to get rid of the dry feeling in his mouth, he wet his lips.

There was a soft knock on the door. The sound Jim had heard in his dreams, that had woken him up. Only one person would knock on a starship, and it’d been years since he’d done it when coming to Jim’s quarters.

“Enter,” Jim called out, and Spock came in.

“I apologize, Captain.” Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “I am looking for Doctor McCoy.”

Jim, still not completely awake, glanced at the chronometer. The time didn’t change. Why did Spock come to his room this early? Why would he look for McCoy in Jim’s quarters?

Pressing his palms against the desk, Jim stood up. “Have you found a cure?” he asked, remembering, inspecting Spock’s face, hoping to see any signs of success, but the light was too low, and Spock too far.

“I gave the translation to Nurse Chapel, but I would like Doctor McCoy’s opinion as well,” Spock said, his eyes falling on the desk. There were two glasses and a half-empty bottle of brandy.

“At three in the morning?” Jim blurted out.

“The time on the ship is simulated to –”

Jim raised his hand and said, “Spock.”

Spock stopped talking. Jim walked around the desk and stopped two steps away from Spock, his heart beating faster. “Do you think you’ve found a cure?”

Spock nodded, slowly, and Jim let out a deep breath. He wouldn’t have to say goodbye to McCoy. McCoy wouldn’t be leaving. He would stay.

“Thank you,” Jim whispered, closing his eyes, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. He hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on McCoy’s condition. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about worst-case scenarios. When McCoy had been cynical, Jim had decided to trust Spock. Spock wouldn’t waste time looking for something that didn’t exist, would he? And Jim was right.

“Captain, where is McCoy?”

Jim opened his eyes. Spock’s cool tone could fool one into thinking that Spock was indifferent and uncaring to what was happening, but just one look at his face told a different story.

Jim nodded towards the sleeping alcove. Spock glanced over there, the lines in his face softening; an expression he’d never allow McCoy to see. Unless he was on a deathbed, Jim’s mind reminded him.

Sometimes, Jim wished the two men would just admit they worried and cared and stopped with their foolish pretense, but he knew how difficult it was for them to express their true feelings and emotions. And perhaps, in their case, they were the living proof of “actions speak louder than words”.  

“Let him sleep. He’ll have a clearer head in the morning.” Jim rubbed his eyes.

“I do not understand your and Doctor McCoy’s fascination with alcohol,” Spock said, his gaze never leaving McCoy’s lying form. 

Jim smiled slightly. “I don’t think we understand it either, Spock.”

Spock hummed but stayed quiet.

“Will the cure work?” Jim asked.

“It will be very painful.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Stop questioning him, Jim,” McCoy murmured from the bed. “Nothing’s ever certain.”

McCoy stood up, a bit unsteady on his feet, and before Jim could move, Spock stepped closer and gripped McCoy’s arm, steadying him. They looked at each other – something unreadable passing between them – and instead of shaking Spock off, McCoy relaxed and leaned into the touch, letting himself be supported. Jim blinked, shifting his gaze, inexplicably feeling as if he was intruding.

“Spock found a cure,” Jim said, breaking the silence.

McCoy’s gaze flickered over Jim’s face, and then he asked the floor, “So are you finally going to let me work on it?”

“It is your expertise, Doctor,” Spock said softly.

“He says that now,” McCoy muttered.

Jim smiled. It wasn’t their usual bickering, but the tension from the lab was nowhere to be found, and Jim took it as a sign that things were looking up.

ii. Spock

–before–

No results. The red letters shone from the screen, and a heavy feeling settled in Spock’s stomach. He changed the keywords. No results. Again.

“Spock,” McCoy said from behind him. “There’s no cure. I appreciate you trying, but –”

“Doctor.” Spock turned around. “I anticipated this. I will search through the database myself.”

The Fabrini knowledge was ten thousand years old, and the English interface of the ship was not the most compatible with the Fabrini’s writing system.

“That will take days!”

“There are nine days until we arrive at Starbase 17.”

McCoy’s shoulders fell. “And you’ll spend them in a lab chasing after something that doesn’t exist.” He let out a sigh. “Of course.”

Spock titled his head. “How I decide to spend the time, does not concern you, Doctor. You’ve made it rather clear that my company is unwanted.” Spock held his gaze until McCoy looked away.

“I guess I have.” McCoy grabbed his PADD and faced the door. “Fine, do what you want,” he said and left.

Spock strengthened his shields, faced the computer screens, and started to set up the interface to Vulcan.

*

“Why are you doing this, Spock?”

Despite believing Spock’s attempt to find a cure for xenopolycythemia futile, McCoy had stormed into the lab in the morning and hadn’t left since; except to provide both of them with a meal. Spock had given him an English translation of the Fabrini’s notes on surgeries, hoping that it would hold McCoy’s interest, and while reading through them occupied McCoy for a couple of hours, he would periodically interrupt Spock’s concentration. It was becoming annoying.

“I am a scientist, Doctor,” Spock said. “And my findings will be beneficial to many.”

McCoy grabbed Spock’s shoulder and turned him around. McCoy’s face was paler than usual, and Spock wondered how much the Oracle and the Instrument of Obedience worsened McCoy’s condition.

“You can’t believe that a cure would just conveniently appear in front of us,” McCoy said.

Spock took McCoy’s hand off his shoulder. “Let me return to work, Doctor.”

“Spock –”

“Stop wasting both of our times by asking questions you know the answer to.”

McCoy stepped back as if stricken and folded his arms across his chest.

He exhaled. “I’m sorry, you know. For how I left.”

Spock pressed his lips together and turned back to the computer screen filled with the Fabrini symbols.

When Kirk came in twenty-three minutes later, Spock used him to get McCoy out of the lab.

–now–

“You can go now, Spock.”

Spock clasped his hands behind his back, straightening. McCoy was sitting on his bed, taking off his boots, pointedly avoiding looking at Spock.

“Is that what you want?” Spock asked, watching as McCoy slid off the second boot.

“Since when do you care about what I want?”

Spock took a breath. “Doctor, it is a fact that I read somewhat faster than you. Therefore –”

“Spock.” McCoy raised his hand but not his face.

Spock waited, but McCoy didn’t continue. Spock unclenched his hands and walked toward the desk to pick up the PADD he’d left there before coming to the Captain’s quarters. He handed it to McCoy.

“I suggest you sleep before looking at it.” Spock turned around, prepared to leave.

“Why did you come to Jim’s cabin?”

Why, indeed. It already seemed like a mistake, but he’d wanted to let McCoy know and when he couldn’t find him in his quarters, there had been no other option. Spock let out a short breath. “You were not here,” he said.

The only sound in the room was their breathing. Quiet and asynchronous. McCoy shifted on the bed, the fabrics rustling. Spock closed his eyes, waiting for something, but when it didn’t come, he reached out his hand in order to push the button opening the door.

“Spock.”

Spock’s hand hovered above the button.

“Do you…” McCoy cleared his throat. He was standing close. “Will you stay?”

They’d never given a name to what they had. Either of them could end it at any time, if they so decided, but contrary to Spock’s initial belief, it lasted for over a year.

They’d never made promises, but they were content, or so Spock thought. And yet McCoy had made a promise to Natira, however brief. He did not know her, but he’d taken her as a wife.

“Your decision to stay on Yonada was most illogical,” Spock said, turning around. He hadn’t understood back on the surface of the asteroid ship, and he didn’t understand now. 

“So you’ve said.” McCoy watched his feet.

“Why?”

“Dying among strangers makes things easier.” McCoy shrugged.

“Easier for whom?”

McCoy finally met his eyes – so blue, so clear, so pained. Neither of them said anything, and Spock’s chest ached in a way it hadn’t for a long time.

“Spock, I…” McCoy raised his hand, as if to touch Spock, but he changed his mind and touched his stomach instead, fisting the undershirt. “You should go.”

Spock exhaled. “I’d like to stay, Leonard.”

McCoy’s eyes widened, and he nodded. “Alright.” His lips loosened into not quite a smile, and Spock guided him back to bed.

When McCoy pressed his face against Spock’s shoulder – his breath, weakly smelling of alcohol, tickling Spock’s neck – Spock curled his arm around him and rested his hand on McCoy’s upper arm, holding him close.

*

“Are you certain, Mister Spock?” Kirk asked when McCoy stepped out of the lab.

“Nothing is ever certain, Captain,” Spock repeated the words McCoy had said the day before. Spock was sure he saw recognition in Kirk’s eyes, and he dropped his eyes back to his PADD. “But Doctor McCoy and Nurse Chapel both agree that it is promising.”

“Is promising enough?”

Spock tightened his hold on his PADD. “It has to be.” He could not accept any alternative. It was, as the Captain and McCoy would say, their best shot.

McCoy and Nurse Chapel were both confident that the cure would be compatible with a human. They’d made some modifications, and the tests had been successful. All that was left now was to administer it and hope.

“It’s McCoy’s life at stake, Spock.” Kirk started to pace, his fingers sliding and tapping on the surface of the desks. “There can’t be any doubt.”

“I would not inform McCoy if I’d thought there was no chance.”

Kirk’s expression softened. “Of course not. It’s just…” Kirk ran his fingers through his hair. How easily could humans let their frustration and feelings be known. 

“I understand the feeling, Jim,” Spock said and set his PADD aside. He clasped his hands behind his back, gripping them tightly, and glanced at the test tubes with the dark green cure. In the evening, they would apply the first dose, and if everything went well, two more every twelve hours after that. Until then, there was nothing else to do but wait.

“You should return to the bridge, Captain.”

“They’ll inform me if something happens.” Kirk took an empty test tube and rotated it in his hands. The silence, so rarely uncomfortable, was filled with unease. After forty-nine seconds, Kirk asked, “Spock, are things okay between you and Bones?”

Spock watched the tube in Kirk’s hands. In the morning, McCoy had woken up and stayed pressed against Spock for another thirteen point seven minutes; his hand placed over Spock’s heart. 

“You stayed,” McCoy said, his breath brushing Spock’s collarbone. It was an innocent sentence, but something about McCoy’s tone made Spock think.

Spock often left without a word while McCoy was still asleep. To work in the early mornings was highly productive, and it allowed Spock more time to spend with McCoy in the evenings. McCoy never commented on it, and Spock never thought much of it. Perhaps it was an oversight on his part.

His throat tightening, Spock closed his eyes. “I did,” he had said, voice hoarse, focusing on McCoy’s fingers running soft circles over Spock’s abdomen.

“Spock?” Kirk’s question brought him back to the present.

“What are you referring to?” Spock asked carefully. He was sure that Kirk did not know about… about him and McCoy.

“It’s not any of my business, but the last couple of days, both of you seemed… off.” Kirk put the tube back in its place. “And I don’t want you to have any regrets if –”

“The treatment will be successful.” His interruption and the firmness of his voice surprised them both. Spock exhaled and strengthened his shields, burying his emotions deeper. “I apologize.” He closed his eyes, the nails digging into his palm.

When Kirk touched his upper arm, Spock startled but did not open his eyes. He did not want to face the captain. He did not want to see the pity and concern. 

“You should rest, Spock.” The gentle tone hurt. “Chapel and M’Benga can handle it from now on.”

Spock shook his head. “I wish to be present, Jim.”

“Alright, but you should still –”

The door swished open and McCoy returned. Spock turned around and grabbed his PADD, opening his translation notes but not reading anything.

“You’re still here?” McCoy asked. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Rank hath its privileges,” Kirk answered with feigned cheerfulness.

McCoy hummed. “Well, Chapel is running the tests you’ve asked for, Spock.”

“I understand,” Spock answered without moving.

McCoy came closer. “I guess I should thank you, Mister Spock.”

“It is not necessary,” Spock said, keeping his back towards McCoy. “You are not cured yet.”

“Hmm, and here I thought you’d tell me that one does not thank logic.”

“One does not.” Spock turned around. “But I’m aware of your emotional need to express gratitude. And I believe now would still be premature.”

McCoy turned up his eyes.

“Seems like I worried for nothing.” Kirk came to stand next to McCoy.

“What’s that, Jim?” McCoy asked.

“It’s good to see you two doing okay.” Kirk smiled at them. “I’ll come back in time for the first dose.”

“You don’t have to,” McCoy said.

“I want to.”

McCoy nodded. Kirk patted McCoy’s shoulder and left. When the door closed behind him, McCoy glanced at Spock and asked, “Are we okay, Spock?”

Spock inclined his head. “I believe we will be, Leonard.”

*

SPOCK: Your haemoglobin count is back to normal, Doctor, which indicates that the flow of oxygen to each cell of your body is back up to its abundantly energetic level.

MCCOY: Thank you, Mister Spock, for bringing back the knowledge of the Fabrini.

SPOCK: *nods without any word*

(For the World Is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky)

*

a ficlet I wrote before could be set in the same universe, between the end of this fic and the final scene as shown in the episode, in case you want something a bit... sweeter? Maybe? At His Bedside

[joeygoeshollywood]

My 25 Favorite Films of 2020 (UPDATED)

Well, this was quite the crazy year, especially for movies. While many films that were slated to be released this year were postponed due to the coronavirus pandemic, this year still provided some laughs, tears, and thrills both in theaters and in the living room.

Here are my 25 favorite films of the year:

25. The Trial of the Chicago 7

Oscar-winning screenwriter Aaron Sorkin sits in the director’s chair once again in this courtroom drama about the real-life protesters who showed up in Chicago during the 1968 Democratic National Convention. With themes that resonate today, The Trial of the Chicago 7 benefits from its sharp screenplay, well-paced editing, and an outstanding ensemble cast that includes Eddie Redmayne, Mark Rylance, Yahoo Abdul-Mateen II, Sacha Baron Cohen, Jeremy Strong, Frank Langella, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Michael Keaton.

24. Unhinged

In a year plagued by the pandemic, Unhinged led the way to the revival of movie theaters back in August and perhaps in some ways it was meant to be the film to do so as the themes of a rage-fueled society and the lack of human connection carry weight. Russell Crowe stars, as the title suggests, as an unhinged psychopath whose road rage torments a woman and her adolescent son. Unhinged is the epitome of pure entertainment and is why we go to the movies. While it’s not quite the most sophisticated thriller of the year, it’s still one helluva ride.

23. Emma

Anya Taylor-Joy has had quite the year with both highs (The Queen’s Gambit) and lows (The New Mutants). But it began before the pandemic with the release of Emma, which she stars as the iconic Jane Austen title character, a socialite who meddles in the love life of others while refusing to acknowledge her own shortcomings in that department. Supported with a strong ensemble cast, beautiful production design, and comedic charm, Emma is not to be missed.

22. One Night in Miami

Regina King makes her directorial debut adapting a stage play about a fictionalize meeting of Sam Cooke, Malcolm X, Muhammad Ali, and Jim Brown. One Night in Miami is one of those films that’s completely carried by its cast and Leslie Odom Jr., Kingsley Ben-Adir, Eli Goree, and Aldis Hodge all deliver with powerhouse performances as four American icons. 

21. The Invisible Man

ln the era of remakes and reboots, very few are as good as Universal’s latest monster flick revival of The Invisible Man. Elisabeth Moss stars as a woman who believes she’s being haunted by her abusive ex-husband, someone she becomes convinced faked his own death and is stalking her without being able to be seen. Filmmaker Leigh Whannell, the writer behind the Saw and Insidious horror franchises, generates good thrills and high-wire tension with the help of high production value and a terrifyingly-good performance from Moss.

20. Dick Johnson is Dead

Documentarian Kirsten Johnson filmed a beautiful, intimate tribute to her father Dick Johnson, who has been suffering from Alzheimer's in the final years of his life. However, instead of dreading his death, both daughter and father embrace it by having him acting out several scenes of his over-the-top demises. Dick Johnson is Dead may focus on the subject manner of death, but this documentary actually celebrates life and the laughs that happen along the way.

19. The Wolf of Snow Hollow

Perhaps one of the littlest-known films of the year, The Wolf of Snow Hollow is not your conventional indie comedy horror flick. Writer/director Jim Cummings stars as an overly-heated police officer who attempts to get to the bottom of a string of murders in his small, snowy Utah town by what appears to be some sort of werewolf, though he remains unconvinced. Featuring one of the final performances from veteran actor Robert Forster, The Wolf of Snow Hollow uses its quirky sense of humor to stand out from the rest of the pack.

18. The Gentlemen

The Gentlemen is a fun, action-packed, crime caper from Guy Ritchie about the London turf war of drug kingpins. Matthew McConaughey, Charlie Hunnam, Henry Goulding, Michelle Dockery, and Colin Ferrell all round out the strong cast, but its Hugh Grant that really steals the show as the comedically manipulative Fletcher, whose only allegiance is to himself. If you like a stylish film with well-choreographed violence and a fast-paced plot, The Gentlemen should be your cup of tea.  

17. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Some of the best play-to-film adaptations are the films that feel like you’re watching a play, and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is one of them. Produced by Denzel Washington, Viola Davis gives a transformative performance as Ma Rainey, known as the “mother of the blues” and the clash she had with a pair of White music producers, but she also butts heads with her trumpet player (played by the late Chadwick Boseman), who also has his own music ambitions. While Davis obviously gives other Oscar-worthy performance, it was Boseman who was able to show how incredibly gifted he was as an actor. And while the world lost him far too soon, at least his last role ended up being his greatest.

16. Boys State

Boys State is a fascinating documentary about an annual program that brings a thousand 17-year-old Texan boys together where they’re divided into two groups to form their own parties and election campaigns. The biggest takeaway from this teenage social experiment is how much these youngsters pickup the tactics of actual politicians (which in some ways is horrifying). What really carries the film are the select few it focuses on who are still young enough to be humble but cunning enough to know how the game is played. For better or worse, they make great politicos someday. 

15. Mank

Citizen Kane is widely regarded as one of the greatest films ever made and Mank is a worthy tribute. Gary Oldman stars as the title character Herman “Mank” Mankiewicz, the Oscar-winning screenwriter behind the iconic film. David Fincher (The Social Network, Gone Girl) managed to capture the epic scale of the 1941 classic that would make Orson Welles proud.

14. Soul

Soul is one of those rare existential Pixar films that goes beyond being children’s entertainment. Following in the footsteps of 2015′s Inside Out, Soul depicts what happens to the soul of a jazz musician who’s convinced his time on Earth isn’t over. While the universe created to explain how souls work and the plot that went along with it falls short of its emotions predecessor, Soul is still high-caliber among Pixar films and a great movie for both kids and adults alike.

13. The Kid Detective

One of the biggest surprises of the year was how good a movie starring and produced by Adam Brody was. Brody plays a washed up former kid detective who attempts to revive his once-celebrated career of solving mysteries by getting to the bottom of a murder in his hometown. The Kid Detective is a brilliant dark comedy from newcomer writer/director Evan Morgan with good laughs, plenty of plot twists, and a career-best performance from Brody, who proves he’s more than just the pretty face from The O.C. we all know him as.

12. Judas and the Black Messiah 

Judas and the Black Messiah is an intense historical drama about FBI informant Bill O’Neal who infiltrates a branch of the Black Panther Party led by Fred Hampton, played by an Oscar-worthy Daniel Kaluuya. What felt like a high-wire thriller, filmmaker Shaka King shows he’s full of talent with likely a long, successful career ahead of him. 

11 . Wolfwalkers

From the Irish filmmakers behind the Oscar-nominated films The Secret of Kells and Song of the Sea comes their greatest animated feature yet. Wolfwalkers is a touching fantasy of an aspiring hunter Robyn who befriends a girl who can magically turn into a wolf in her sleep (aka a wolfwalker), but their relationship faces hurdles as Robyn’s father is hired to wipe out the wolves who live in the woods outside of the town’s perimeter. Wolfwalkers is gorgeous, riveting, and far more sophisticated than the average cartoon. It’s also easily the best animated film of the year.

10. Another Round

Perhaps the greatest work from Danish director Thomas Vinterberg to date, Another Round follows four unsatisfied middle aged men who decide to take a theory of task from a Norwegian psychiatrist, who concluded that maintaining a blood alcohol level of 0.050 will enhance their mental and psychological state. Mads Mikkelsen, who’s best known to American audiences as Hannibal Lecter in the short-lived NBC series Hannibal and the Bond villain in Casino Royale, offers a strong, nuanced performance as one of the four educators who embraces this drinking challenge in a film that provides an equal balance of chuckles, cringes, and emotional gut punches.

9. I’m Thinking of Ending Things

From the crazy mastermind of Charlie Kaufman, the writer behind Being John Malkovich, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Anomalisa, his latest on Netflix is too a mind-bender. I’m Thinking of Ending Things is a surreal, zany, and at times disturbing examination of the human condition as the nameless female protagonist played by an incredible Jessie Buckley mulls over breaking up with her boyfriend (played by Jesse Plemons) while visiting his parents’ house. Accompanied with a stellar production design and a crazy-good performance from Toni Collette as “Mother,” Kaufman newest cerebral feature lives up to his iconic reputation of filmmaking.

8. Da 5 Bloods

Spike Lee is one of the few genius filmmakers who is able to blend multiple genres together and his latest film is no different. Da 5 Bloods is an action adventure, buddy comedy, dramatic character study, and war movie all wrapped up into one about a group of Vietnam War veterans who return to the former battlegrounds to find the remains of one of their fallen soldiers as well as some treasure that they kept hidden years ago. With a strong ensemble cast that includes the late Chadwick Boseman, its longtime character actor Delroy Lindo who steals the show with his powerful performance. Da 5 Bloods is easily one of Netflix’s strongest films to date.

7. The Assistant

One of the first #MeToo-era films, The Assistant offers the day in the life of a low-level female staffer of a production company who is haunted by the presence of her Harvey Weinstein-like boss (who never actually appears in the film). However, rather than depicting the dramatics of sexual misconduct, The Assistant uses the common subtleties and nuances of the workplace yet maintains the same tension and heartbreak. Anchored by the remarkable, devastating performance by up-and-comer Julia Garner (Ozark), The Assistant is as important as it is well-done.

6. Minari 

No film this year captures the pursuit of the American dream better than Minari. A Korean man moves his family from California to Arkansas to build a farm, which causes strain on his marriage. Writer/Director Lee Isaac Chung delivers a fulfilling and intimate film that is family drama and part coming-of-age with humor sprinkled throughout. Minari also benefits from a strong cast led by Steve Yeun of Walking Dead fame as the aspiring farmer desperate to provide for his kids, Yeri Han as the mother who struggles to adjust to the new lifestyle, and Youn Yuh-jung as the loose cannon grandmother who desperately tries to seek her grandson’s love and approval after she moves in with her daughter’s family.

5. The Father

The Father is a remarkable drama about an aging man named Anthony who refuses his daughter’s desire to hire a caretaker, but there’s a surprise element of suspense as the audience is essentially in the mind of Anthony, whose sense of reality is on shaky grounds. Anthony Hopkins gives his greatest performance in decades as a vulnerable man who simply wants to be left alone in his flat while Olivia Colman offers a painfully brilliant portrayal of a daughters who feels obligated to take care of her ailing father. With sharp writing and superb editing, The Father is one of the few films of the year that resonates after viewing. 

4. Nomadland

Nomadland is an enriching, emotional, beautifully-made film from writer/director Chloé Zhao. Frances McDormand gives yet another stellar performance as a widow who embraces the nomad lifestyle and embarks on a self-discovery journey on the road. The cinematography is so stunning, nearly every shot looks like a painting. Nomadland is full of heart and one the year’s most standout films.

3. Promising Young Woman

What can be described as a #MeToo revenge thriller, Promising Young Woman is a heart-pounding rollercoaster with a dark, biting sense of humor.  Emerald Fennell has proven to be a promising young filmmaker with her unique vision that resulted in a smooth, stylish feature debut. Carey Mulligan truly shines in the role she was born to play as the cunning, relentless Cassandra seeking vengeance on behalf of her best friend. Promising Young Woman is one of those rare films so satisfying yet keeps you begging for more even when it’s over. 

2. Sound of Metal

Riz Ahmed gives the performance of his career as a heavy metal drummer and former addict whose sudden battle with going deaf upends his life. Sound of Metal is an incredible experience that gives a rare glimpse in the American deaf community which is enhanced by the remarkable sound design that helps the audience actually hear what the musician is going through. It’s truly one of the most rewarding films of the year.

1. The Climb

The Climb takes the generic “man sleeps with his best friend’s fiancé” storyline and turns it on its head. In his feature debut as writer and director, Michael Angelo Covino leads as the not-so-apologetic adulterer Mike and Kyle Marvin, who co-wrote the film, is the good-hearted Kyle who struggles to whether or not to forgive his best friend’s ultimately betrayal. Not only is The Climb is quirky and hilariously written, it’s a remarkably well-made comedy with some of the year’s best cinematography. Between a strong cast, a superb screenplay, and the extremely-high production value, The Climb is at the top of the mountain of 2020′s best films.

[faeriescorpio]

Going Gray/Old Age

TW character death

Wilford goes gray. Egos face old age.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33467572

-------

His hair had started to fade.

Truthfully, it had been such a gradual change that Wilford hadn’t noticed it until one day Bim stepped into his television set with a head full of silver and had announced that he was going to stop dying his hair black. Wilford had stopped whatever he had been doing at the time-he can’t remember what it was anymore- to gape.

“You’re going gray?” He had managed to squawk, and Bim grinned at him proudly, mistaking his shock for admiration.

“You bet I am!” Bim said confidently. “I saw how Dr. Iplier looks, and its not that bad.” He preened in a nearby mirror. “I’m a silver fox,” He said to himself, and Wilford startled.

“Dr. Iplier is going gray?” He asked, feeling stunned. He hadn’t seen the doctor in a while, but surely-

“You need to step outside more!” Bim lectured. “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed that the doctor doesn’t have a dark hair left on his head!” He looked back at the mirror, running a hand through his hair. “Of course, I’m not there quite yet, got a few black hairs left-”

“Is everyone going gray?” Wilford demanded, jumping to his feet, and Bim chuckled.

“Practically everyone.” He peered at Wilford. “You’re even losing a bit of color, I think.”

“Excuse me,” Wilford choked out, and leapt to his feet and hurried out.

He sprinted down the hallway, passing Eric, who, Wilford noted almost absently, had become quite the man, as he headed to his room. He whipped the door shut and went to his bathroom, staring at the mirror.

His hair was starting to fade. His bubblegum pink had been reduced to a lighter shade, and amongst the dark hair he had had for so long lay a few hidden gray hairs.

Wilford stared.

Everyone was going gray. It was as if Wilford’s eyes had been opened. Dr. Iplier had let himself go, or so The Host was teasing that evening when Wilford joined the others for the meal. King was featuring a more salt-and-pepper sort of look, which was making Yandere cringe. Yandere and the Host looked the same as ever, but tale-tell wrinkles were beginning to pop up on the Host and Yandere and Eric, easily some of the youngest, were definitely starting to show signs of age. 

Bing and the Googles looked the same as ever, Wilford thought, relieved, until Bing glitched in the middle of the meal and Google Prime had to take him away to be recharged.

“His battery doesn’t last as long,” He said, almost apologizing, and the other Googles muttered anxiously.

“The most recent update didn’t make me feel too great,” Green admitted quietly. “It’s a bit more complex than my systems want to handle.”

“We’re not obsolete yet,” Red muttered furiously, and Oliver stayed quiet save for the sound of his fan running.

Heart beginning to pound, Wilford scanned the others. Captain Magnum looked exhausted, his beard grayer than the rest of his hair, and the gray streaks in Yancy’s hair somehow suited him better, though his tattoos looked faded. Illinois’ hair was frighteningly impeccable, and Wilford knew that the man was stubbornly dying his hair and covering wrinkles with make-up.

“Wanna watch a movie with me after this, Jim?” Asked one of the Jims, hair still dark but looking the same as Eric and Yandere.

“You’ll just fall asleep in the middle,” The other Jim retorted, and Wilford’s stomach sank.

Only Dark looked the same as ever.

“Dark,” Wilford started slowly, and the demon looked over, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, Wilford?” he asked patiently, and Wilford hesitated, feeling uncertain.

“...Nothing.” Dark hummed but thankfully let it go.

Wilford was never good with years, and normally he didn’t care, but when Silver Shepard and Ed Edgar disappeared he found himself wondering how long he had been alive.

“Google?” He whispered, entering the androids’ room late in the evening, and he opened the door and saw in the dark five shapes.

“Google!” He hissed, and a loading bar shot up.

“Waking…” it read, and it was impossible to tell if the bar was moving impossibly slow or not at all.

Wilford was off like a rocket.

The 1890’s. No, the 1880’s. No, the 1890’s was right the first time. Wilford shook his head. When had he been born? How long had he lived? Surely over a hundred years, maybe a hundred and fifty? He couldn’t remember, he didn’t know-

Dr. Iplier was gone and no one knew until the Jims had stumbled over the Host’s cold body. The double funeral had hurt, but not as much as the tired resignation on the androids’ faces.

They were quick to follow, simply never waking up from their charging pods.

Captain Magnum and Illinois went out with a bang, one disappearing on high seas and never returning after a terrible storm, the other insisting they weren’t too old for one last adventure that they didn’t have the reflexes to come back from.

He couldn’t read their tombstones, and he had to take a trip to the doctor- and didn’t that hurt, remembering they used to have a doctor?- to find out that he needed glasses. His eyesight was starting to fail him, it seemed.

The sensation of glasses seemed familiar but it made his chest feel hollow. He coughed, only half-heartedly covering his mouth.

He got a glimpse of Mark, once. Still just as youthful as ever, but he smelled of decay. Wilford didn’t see the District Attorney anywhere and tried not to think about what that could mean.

He stopped counting who was left.

At some point he stumbled into the Jims and Eric, crying in the hallway. Without a word he wrapped them up in his arms. Dark stood nearby, silently making eye contact with him, and Wilford knew they were all that were left.

He locked himself in his room, for a while. He didn’t know for how long, or really why, but when he looked in the mirror and saw nothing by gray with a faint gleam of pink, he coughed in his elbow and sighed.

He had always known he would go out with a bang, something violent. He didn’t know when that changed.

The door creaked open.

“...Wilford…?” A voice said quietly, and Wilford knew who it was before he looked up.

“Damien,” He sighed fondly, and smiled up at the man’s worried face.

Dark seemed startled at the sight of his friend- whether it was the gray or the glasses, he didn’t know.

“Willi-” Dark deflated. “Wilford,” He said instead, and his voice was soft and miserable. “I didn’t expect you to-” “To be so old?” Wilford finished wryly, gray mustache twitching, and the back of his throat tickled when he tried to chuckle. “Me neither.”

Dark looked like someone had punched him in the gut, and Wilford sighed, drinking in the sight of the still-youthful man. It seemed that Dark and Mark would be stuck alone together, fighting forever. Speaking of the villainous man, Wilford always thought Mark would kill him, not old age.

“I always thought my death would be more violent,” he admitted, and Dark made an injured sound.

“Death?” He repeated frantically, “Wilford, are you-” he choked, and Wilford took pity on the monochrome man.

“Not yet, old friend,” he said soothingly. “But soon.” Dark winced. “I have lived over a hundred years, you know, even if I can’t remember the exact number,” Wilford half-teased, half-reminded. Far longer than a normal man, he left unsaid.

Dark looked miserable, shoulders hunching, and Wilford suddenly realized that the demon had always taken Wilford’s lasting presence for granted, had never stopped to consider that Wilford was not like him.

“Wilford,” Dark croaked. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault that I’m not like you,” Wilford said, not unkindly. He kept his tone strong enough to get the point across, but also soft, because he wasn’t made at Damien, he would never be mad at Damien.

“Besides,” He continued, “Life needs a bit of madness, and if I lived forever I would start to find life boring. We couldn’t have that. I wouldn’t want that.”

Dark stared at him for a moment silently, taking the sight of his old friend in. Then he sighed, and seemed to give up some internal fight.

“What can I do for you,” He said without an asking tone, and Wilford’s eyes almost watered.

“Stay?” He asked, suddenly feeling as terribly alone as he had been up until that moment. “Just until I go?”

Dark trembled, then crossed the room far faster than Wilford could keep up with, faster than Wilford could have moved even in his prime, and wrapped his arms around Wilford tightly. Just when Wilford thought he wouldn’t be able to breathe, Dark loosened his hold.

“I can do that,” His voice cracked as Dark pressed his face into Wilford’s neck. “I can do that.”

[allhallowsthemepark]

dream by WOMBO Draws the Park! Part 5

We're taking a look at how the AI interprets Goblin Woods today, and it's...fine. I mean, the individual images all look really good, but there isn't a lot of variety here, in either the palettes or the compositions. I think the software kept pulling from the same original images. But there are some fun details in some of these, so let's go!

I'm returning to my usual practice of starting with no filter:

This version seems to have interpreted the prompt to mean that some of the trees in the woods have goblin heads. Or something. But the more you look at it, the more you spot the subtler figures in the spaces between trunks. Not exactly what I have in mind for the visual aesthetic of Goblin Woods, but effective in its own way.

So let's try some appropriate filters. Dark Fantasy sounds promising for this material:

This one is heavy on the woods, but lighter on the goblins...unless those swollen boles are where they make their houses? I like the spider-webby bare branches in the upper right.

What about something related, like Arcane?

Here we go! This is exactly the kind of "dark fairy tale" vibe I'm going for. Huge trees, tangled undergrowth, hidden hollows, eerie lights with no readily identifiable source, and a suggestion of humanoid figures that never seem to be quite there when you look at them directly, all jumbled together in a dreamlike mishmash. Well done!

But can we top it with something like...oh...Provenance?

A little lighter in tone than the previous ones, but...dang, they ain't lyin', those woods can goblin! Here, the trees themselves are the goblins. I can almost see this as an actual sculpted piece in the theme park, for people to stop and take pictures of. Very...Jim Henson Creature Shop.

What can we get from the Psychic filter?

More goblins-as-trees, looking significantly more sinister than we got from Provenance, in both their features and the more lurid, magenta-splashed palette. Nice touches of autumnal foliage near the top there--this is still a Halloween theme park, after all.

Let's go darker still with Malevolent!

Now the magenta is shading to blood-red as the (increasingly spiky) goblins begin to emerge from the woods and come after us! I'm fascinated by that apparent floral light fixture in the top right quadrant; I would definitely adapt that into the lighting style of the area.

Let's wrap this up with a view of the Baroque filter's interpretation of the prompt:

Yeah, I knew this one would be good. We're back to the impressionistic not-quite-faces in the trees, and as usual, the brassy color wash seems to take us back in time a few centuries. Not bad!

For our bonus, I had real trouble getting anything too interesting out of the names of the rides in Goblin Woods--I guess the words are too generic--so I instead plugged the name of one of our fairy-tale NPCs into the Provenance filter. Everyone say hello to the Witch of the Woods!

This is just superb--it's the woods and the witch and her hut, all rolled into one figure. Shades of Baba Yaga!

[i-am-thedragon]

Error Codes

Error Codes- A fanfic about how ƎNA was brought into the world. Content warning: Mentions of death, vomit, mental breakdowns

Rows upon rows of iridescent icosahedrons hovered tranquilly within large pods, each guarded by a watchful, ever-open eye. Overseeing the haunting yet quiet display was Kubiak and Ganymede, a pair of beings vague in appearance yet clear in their desire for this new brood of lifeforms to emerge successfully.

With the sound of a chime, the first of the twenty-four eyes closed.

“Finally!” Kubiak exclaimed with a sigh of relief. “And just in time, too. Boss is going to be here soon, and she’ll be furious if we’ve got nothing to show for our work.”

The icosahedron below the closed eye unravelled to reveal a humanoid figure, split vertically down the middle into two striking colours- Yellow on the left, and blue on the right. Her head and limbs were detached from her torso but floated harmlessly in place regardless. She lifted her head, brushing her long black hair off her face and scanning her surroundings with pleasant curiosity.

“Hello, world!” She exclaimed jovially, raising her arms with glee.

 “ƎNA-Alpha, status: Emerged successfully.” Ganymede began recording, approaching the newly hatched figure. “Errors: None, Action taken: Proceeding.”

“I’ll take it from here, Ganymede.” Kubiak interrupted. “You take the ƎNAs to the presentation room and put the tracker bracelets on them.”

“No problem, Kubiak”.

Ganymede gently took the ƎNA by her hand and lead her out of the hatchery.

 ƎNA LOG

ƎNA-Alpha Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Beta Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Gamma Status: Deceased Errors: Error 523 – Missing vital object – Head Comments: Oh geez, this one just kind of… Flopped out of the ƎGG… Without any head… Action taken: Discarded

ƎNA-Delta Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Epsilon Status: Emerged successfully Errors: Error 88 – Bilateral mirroring Comments: Well, this one’s blue on the left and yellow on the right. Not likely to be an issue, however. Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Zeta Status: N/A Errors: Error 404 – Failure to exist Comments: Nothing came out of the ƎGG. Trust me, I checked. No ƎNA anywhere. Action taken: Discarded…?

ƎNA-Eta Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Theta Status: Not yet emerged Errors: Undetermined Comments: This one hasn’t hatched yet. Might be a dud, I don’t know. Action taken: None

ƎNA-Iota Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Kappa Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Pr Status: Deceased Errors: Error 183 – Sudden explosive termination Comments: This one violently exploded approximately eight seconds after hatching. Made a huge mess. Yuck. Action taken: Discarded

ƎNA-Lambda Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Mu Status: Deceased Errors: Error 54 – Bilateral splitting Comments: This one’s split in half, like the two sides didn’t fuse properly or something. Shame. Action taken: Discarded

ƎNA-Nu Status: Emerged successfully Errors: Error 546 – Hue shift +90 Comments: This one’s magenta and green… Shouldn’t be a problem though, I guess. Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Xi Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Omicron Status: Corrupted Errors: Error 657 – Physical corruption Comments: This ƎNA’s physical form is corrupted beyond recognition, I’d better put her out of her misery. Action taken: Terminated and discarded.

ƎNA-Pi Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Rho Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Sigma Status: Deceased Errors: Error 873 – Failed to emerge, ƎGG corrupted Comments: Yeah, the uh, the ƎGG just melted. Action taken: Discarded

ƎNA-Tau Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Upsilon Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Comments: This one called me ‘Jim’ for some reason. Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Phi Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Chi Status: Paralysed Errors: Error 372 – Missing movement scripts Comments: Frozen like a statue, unable to move or speak. Unsuccessful. Action taken: Terminated and discarded

ƎNA-Psi Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

ƎNA-Omega Status: Emerged successfully Errors: None Action taken: Proceeding

SUCCESS RATE: 15/24 (62.5%)

END LOG

 “Kubiak, why do we have so few successful ƎNAs?!” Ganymede demanded, growing visibly anxious. “Boss is going to deem this whole project an immediate failure if we don’t have a success rate of at least 2/3!”

“Well maybe if you went and upgraded our software like I asked you to three years ago we would’ve had better results!” Kubiak retorted, gesturing at the rather underwhelming crowd of live ƎNAs.

“So, what are we going to do now? We need a miracle to bump that number up and meet Boss’s requirements!”

Before Kubiak could answer, Ganymede caught sight of the unhatched ƎGG of ƎNA-Theta. Among all the empty pods and closed eyes, there remained just one open eye above a lone ƎGG.

“That ƎGG, is that one a definite dud?” They asked.

“I haven’t confirmed it yet.” Kubiak answered, approaching the idle icosahedron. “But she should have hatched with all the others if she was incubated successfully.”

“It’s a long shot, but ƎNA-Theta might be our last hope.” Ganymede suggested. “Help me override the system and force-hatch the ƎGG manually.”

 The iridescent icosahedron shuddered and spun erratically as Kubiak and Ganymede tampered with its incubator, finally coming to a stop as the eye watching over it closed. The ƎGG unfolded itself, allowing the final ƎNA to stumble gracelessly out of it.

“My sincerest apologies!” ƎNA-Theta exclaimed. “I had no idea I was so late; I simply lost track of the time!”

Ignoring the ƎNA’s apology, Ganymede began to cautiously examine her for errors. Immediately they noticed that her right side and most of her torso hadn’t formed properly, appearing geometric and low poly compared to the smooth surfaces of her left side.

“Seems like poor surface subdivision across approximately, hm, sixty to seventy percent of her body?” Ganymede noted out loud. “Kubiak, what’s the error code for that again?”

Before Kubiak could respond, an ominous pink haze filled the air as a doorway to a long corridor manifested itself on the wall of the hatchery.

“Never mind that, Ganymede!” Kubiak squeaked anxiously. “We’ll finish updating the log later; Boss is here! Get the ƎNA ready for presentation!”

 Though Kubiak had dealt with Boss many times before, she still intimidated them a bit. Whether it was her authority, power, or her many arms and eyes that were numerous yet of no exact number, Kubiak wasn’t sure. They just hoped she’d approve of their latest project.

“Well, Kubiak, I’m just glad that you and Ganymede had the foresight to get my approval before releasing this latest batch of creatures into the overworld.” Boss stated, with displeasure in her tone as she recalled the earlier incident.

“Yes, our sincerest apologies about that, Boss.” Kubiak responded meekly, leading Boss through a distorted labyrinth of colourful corridors. “We hadn’t realised the ƎNAs would figure out how to travel between worlds so easily. They caused a fair amount of mischief.”

“And I assume you and Ganymede dealt with them before they got out of hand?”

“Well… Yes and no. All twenty of them died on their own before we could recall them.”

“How so?”

“Three of them were killed by wild animals. Two by angry locals. Four of them drowned in script, three in code, and one in a volcano. One was torn apart at the digital-molecular level, still no idea how, and the remaining six starved to death.”

“That is incredibly depressing.” Boss sighed.

“But don’t worry, Boss!” Kubiak reassured. “Our latest batch of ƎNAs is greatly improved, and we’ve equipped their tracker bracelets with kill switches in case anything goes wrong again!”

“You’d better hope nothing does go wrong, Kubiak.”

 Before Kubiak could offer any additional hollow reassurances, Ganymede came rushing around the corner in an obvious state of panic. Upon seeing Boss, they made a poor attempt at hiding it.

“Ah, good to see you, Boss!” Ganymede greeted nervously. “Welcome! Ah, uh, may I speak with Kubiak privately for a brief moment?”

“Do what you must.” Boss replied.

Ganymede wasted not a single moment dragging Kubiak around the nearest corner of the corridors and gesturing at them to keep quiet.

“I think there’s a problem with one of the ƎNAs!” Ganymede hissed in a frantic but hushed voice.

“What do you mean?!” Kubiak exclaimed back in a similar harsh whisper.

“If there is an issue with the ƎNAs, I would like to be made aware of it.” Boss’s voice boomed demandingly from around the corner.

“Ah, everything’s fine boss, we’re working it out!” Kubiak called out, before they turned back to Ganymede and whispered once again. “Is it Theta?”

“It’s ƎNA-Theta, yeah.” Ganymede sighed. “But maybe Boss won’t notice?”

“I would like to see your work now, do not keep me waiting any longer.” Boss’s intimidating voice boomed once again.

 The presentation room was quite pleasant, decorated in marble tiles, old stone pillars and crystal-clear water fountains. Among the gentle scenery was a small crowd of sixteen ƎNAs mingling politely with each other as they awaited Boss’s judgement. As Kubiak and Ganymede entered the room their gazes immediately locked on ƎNA-Theta, who glanced back at them with a calm smile. To their relief, she didn’t seem to be having any problems at that moment.

As Boss entered the room, the ƎNAs gazed up at her with simple curiosity, unaware of her authority and unintimidated by her presence. She gazed back at them critically.

“Begin.” She spoke.

 “Although our first introduction of the ƎNA into the overworld didn’t quite go as well as we planned, Kubiak and I are confident that our new batch of ƎNAs will make a lovely and colourful addition to the population.” Ganymede began. “These charming characters may look all… Mostly… The same, but there’s more than meets the eyes! The ƎNA has a flexible personality and a shapeshifting ability to match! ƎNA, if you would please demonstrate!”

At the command, the ƎNAs began to shift into various different forms. ƎNA-Iota took on the form of a fanciful dragon, while ƎNA-Beta shifted into a simple geometric shape. Some changed colours, some changed size, and some barely retained their humanoid shape. All except ƎNA-Theta, who merely struck a dramatic pose and hoped no-one would notice. Unfortunately, the discrepancy was noticed by both Ganymede and Kubiak, and Boss.

“A-alright, let’s try that again!” Kubiak called out.

The ƎNAs shifted once again, all taking on new forms except ƎNA-Theta, who once again failed to shapeshift.

“That ƎNA isn’t shapeshifting.” Boss remarked, pointing at the defective ƎNA with one of her many arms. “Does she not understand your command?”

“Oh, no no no, I understand perfectly clear!” ƎNA-Theta responded directly with enthusiasm. “I just, eh, I uhm…”

“Well, I did notice a small issue with ƎNA-Theta regarding shapeshifting.” Ganymede explained. “But I’m sure it’s not a major issue!”

“I’m useless!” The defective ƎNA shouted, the left side of her face suddenly becoming pitch black as the right side turned stark white. “I can’t even shapeshift properly! I can’t do anything properly!”

The sudden shift in tone caught not only Ganymede and Kubiak by surprise, but Boss too.

“All I’ve ever done since I was born is disappoint everyone!” ƎNA-Theta shouted, her voice growing more and more distorted as she threw her head into her hands. “I was a mistake! Why don’t you just get rid of me now?! Go on! Do it! DO IT!”

Everyone in the presentation room began to step back, distancing themselves from the unexpected outburst. ƎNA-Theta’s meltdown grew continuously worse, her cries devolving into agonized shrieks as her form began to distort uncontrollably.

“HURRY UP AND PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY!” She wailed, convulsing as her colours, geometry, and facial features fluctuated. “EVERY MOMENT I’M STILL HERE IS MAKING EVERYTHING WORSE, SO HURRY UP AND END IT!!”

The other ƎNAs began to huddle together in fear, while Ganymede and Kubiak cowered at the other side of the room. Boss stared daggers at the malfunctioning ƎNA’s chaotic display in a mixture of pity and disgust. Entirely displeased with the outburst, she extended an arm at ƎNA-Theta and launched a powerful electric current through her fingertips. As the shock coursed through her body, ƎNA-Theta let out a scream that came out as little more than a sickly rasp, before falling to her knees and violently vomiting white noise onto the marble-tiled floor.

 The silence that followed was only broken by a single command from Boss.

“Terminate the project and all remaining ƎNA specimens.”

“Yes, Boss.” Kubiak spoke softly.

“For the record, this isn’t about not meeting my expectations or success rate goals.” Boss added. “It’s clearly cruel to bring these ƎNAs into existence in the first place. Your ambition is… Appreciated… But from now on you will return to creating simpler life forms. Understood?”

“Understood.” Kubiak and Ganymede answered in unison.

Boss left the presentation room without another word.

 After the incredibly dismal series of events Ganymede and Kubiak had endured, they couldn’t bear to see their functional, living ƎNAs be terminated in front of them. Instead, they jettisoned the ƎNAs out into the nearest barren void of code they could find, and only activated the kill switch once they were out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind. Except, it was never quite that easy. Where had they gone wrong? Was the ƎNA really doomed to failure from the beginning? It was no use contemplating it, however, as the project would never see the light of day again.

All that remained was a room of twenty-four empty incubators, and nine unused tracker bracelets. Nine. Ganymede froze as they counted the bracelets and compared them to the number of ƎNAs that never made it to the presentation.

“Kubiak…” Ganymede called out nervously. “I hate to bear additional bad news, but… I think I forgot to put a kill switch on one of the ƎNAs…”

Kubiak approached the pile of bracelets and counted them for confirmation. Sure enough, the numbers didn’t add up. One of the sixteen ƎNAs had been jettisoned without a kill switch. Kubiak could’ve asked which one went without, but deep down they knew the answer already.

“We terminated every ƎNA except the one that literally begged for death.” Ganymede lamented. “At this point I understand why Boss has no faith in us anymore.”

“Hey, don’t worry, Ganymede.” Kubiak reassured. “I’m sure she won’t last long out there on her own anyway.”

[spaceskam]

83. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.” Malex, please and thank you.

from this prompt list ❤️️ also, warning, it gets a little NSFW for some reason

ao3

Micahel woke up in the middle of the night to his phone ringing. His phone never rang.

He reached for it, more annoyed than concerned, and squinted as it threatened to blind him. It was a random number. He almost ignored it, but something about it grabbed his attention. What would it hurt if he answered and it was a wrong number?

“Hello?” he asked, fighting a yawn.

“Oh, thank God, please tell me you're in Roswell," a voice he'd recognize anywhere whispered into the phone. Michael sat up, his heart already thudding in his chest.

"Alex?" he asked cautiously, scared to be wrong.

"Yeah," he whispered, "Are you in Roswell?"

"Yeah, where are you?"

"Outskirts of Roswell, that military bar between Roswell and the base? They dragged me here and... and I don't wanna be here," Alex whispered, laughing dryly, "Currently hiding in the bathroom."

Michael swallowed, "Stay there, I'm coming to get you."

Alex sighed of relief, "Thank you."

Michael hadn't heard from Alex in over a year, before he even got a phone. He wasn't sure how he even had his number or how long he'd been so close or why he'd waited. None of it mattered though and he jumped into his truck.

He sped there and found himself in the parking lot in 15 minutes. He stared at the building that was packed with soldiers and sailors and he knew he probably shouldn't walk in there. He wasn't in the mood for that kind of attention. Besides, he was in torn up sweats and an even more torn up t-shirt and barefoot. With a little bit of hesitation, he pulled out his phone and called the number that had called him. Alex picked up on the first ring.

"Hey," he said eagerly. Michael still wasn't convinced this wasn't a joke.

"I'm here."

"Give me a couple seconds."

And Michael did. Things still didn't feel real even as Alex came speed-walking out of the bar. Michael held his breath, waiting to wake up. He didn't and Alex got in the passenger seat.

"Hi," Alex said, smiling despite how utterly exhausted he looked. He smelled like secondhand smoke and cheap cologne, but he looked like Alex. He leaned in a little, but he stopped himself and bit his bottom lip. "Drive, please?"

Michael didn't speak and simply obeyed. He got to the edge of the parking lot and looked both ways before going to turn left. However, Alex quickly put his hand on his arm and told him to go right.

"Why? Where are we going?" Michael asked after taking a right. Alex's hand slid up from his arm up to his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Take a left at the stop sign," Alex said instead of an answer.

"Okay."

Michael listened to his directions and Alex fiddled with his hair, tucking it behind his ear a few times before cupping the back of his neck. It took twenty minutes before they started driving down a long, unlit, unpaved pathway that was surrounded by trees and extremely easy to miss if you weren't looking for it. It felt like a horror movie and that paired with his complete misunderstanding on how Alex was here, he'd completely accepted that this was a really weird dream. Whatever happened, happened.

They eventually rolled to a stop outside a dark, slightly run down cabin. Michael had no recognition of it. Alex took a deep, shaky breath before stepping out of the truck. Michael waited a few seconds before following.

He stepped up to the dark porch and Alex was standing in front of the door, his key in the lock but he didn't turn it. Alex looked over at him and he licked his lips. And then he licked Michael's.

Without much of a warning, Alex's hand was on the back of his neck again and he was kissing him without any hesitation. Michael kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm. This dream felt really fucking real and Michael had missed him too much to ask questions.

The kisses seemed to give Alex strength and he broke the kiss to turn the key, his other hand still on Michael's neck to keep him close. The door creaked open, old and ominous and Alex pulled him inside.

The cabin was underused and a little dusty, but it felt homey. The head of a buck was mounted on the wall and the decorations were all either bones or memorabilia, all of it dull and earth toned. Despite the cold of the night, it was warm and welcoming. Or maybe that was just Alex.

Alex kicked the door shut and looked around for a second before throwing his jacket on the ground and reaching for the hem of Michael's shirt. Michael went with it, kissing him and stripping him until they were both completely bare as they made their way towards the couch.

Alex pushed him down onto the hard, underused couch that was probably from the 70s, and he climbed into his lap. Michael pulled him close, breathing him in and touching him wherever he could. His skin was so warm. Michael didn't want to wake up.

"I miss you," Michael whispered against his lips. Alex nodded, leading his head to his neck. He cradled his face there, letting Michael kiss his neck sloppily as he took the time to spit into the palm of his hand.

Michael wasn't quite sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't Alex taking himself himself in his hand like he did. He swallowed hard as Alex bowed his head, his lips against his ear as he took shallow breaths and made nearly inaudible moans. Michael pressed his hands against his ass, tugging him until they were chest to chest and he could feel Alex's hand moving between them.

"Alex," he breathed, "I can do that."

"You sure? You were taking too long."

"Thought you liked slow."

"Shh, we'll go slow next time."

Michael wasn't sure there was a next time. He was going to wake up after this. He wanted to make it last. But Alex wanted him now and, honestly, that was nice too.

He covered Alex's hand with his own, slowing the pace he set and kissing his jaw. Alex's bicep tensed against Michael's head, holding him closer as he moaned quietly. Michael moved his hips just a little, desperate for some friction of his own, yet entirely willing to wait. He was completely satisfied with Alex in his hand.

And they stayed like that for a little while until Alex finished. Then Alex followed that by dragging his hand down the mess he made on Michael's stomach and grabbing him which was... a lot.

He finished quickly after that which seemed to be Alex's goal from the way he could feel his smile against his jaw through his heavy breaths. Michael caught his breath and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close and refusing to let go.

Alex eventually laid down and Michael laid on top of him, his arms still around him with his head on his chest. Alex played with his hair and pressed kisses to his forehead every once in awhile. They were probably plastered together and Michael genuinely didn't want it any other way. He didn't want to wake up.

"Jim Valenti died," Alex whispered, so soft that Michael didn't even react. He just breathed.

"I'm sorry," he said. He didn't really know what kind of relation Alex had to the Sheriff, but he said the information like there was a reason for saying it.

"I'm okay," Alex whispered. Michael nodded. "I got off for the funeral. Couldn't make myself go."

"Oh," Michael said. He tried to lift his head to see if Alex was actually okay, but Alex held him down and he didn't fight it.

"It's okay. He didn't expect me to go," Alex said, breathing in deep, "I never liked them when I was little."

Was it weird that after six years of loving him, that was the first time he'd heard anything about when he was little?

"Gave me this cabin, though," Alex breathed. Oh. They had sex in Alex's cabin. Alex's house. Butterflies that couldn't read the room bloomed in his stomach.

"It's nice," Michael said. Alex laughed softly, grabbing a fistful of his hair and carefully tilting his head back to give him a kiss. Michael kissed back and made a noise in protest as they ended shortly after they started. Alex's nose nuzzled into the top of his head in response.

"I have both keys," Alex told him, "Won't have to stay with my dad or in a hotel when I get vacation time." Or with you, he didn't say. Michael swallowed harshly.

"Oh."

"C'mere," Alex urged, pulling him back into another kiss. This one didn't end like the one before, this dragged out for the rest of the night. He fell asleep kissing him.

Michael expected to wake up in his bed, expected to wake up hating his brain for its cruelty. Instead, he woke up alone on that hard couch. He wasn't as gross as he could've been since someone had cleaned him up and there was an itchy blanket covering him. But he was still alone.

"Alex?" he called, foolishly hopeful that if that wasn't a dream, then he'd get a morning with him. But he didn't. The house was quiet and, as far as Michael could tell, empty. It left him with a hollow feeling.

He wanted to stay and see if Alex was going to come back, but he had work and he wasn't quiet sure where he even was. Even though it was real, it was still a fucking fever dream. Part of him hated Alex for that, but a much bigger part loved him even more than he had twenty-four hours prior. That always happened when he got a chance meeting with that man. He spent the next week trying to stop thinking about him.

It took him two weeks to realize he'd left the cabin with one more key than he arrived with.

[prokopetz]

Ive played through bloodstained, chasm, iconoclasts, hollowknight, dawn of sorrow and portrait of ruin, deaths gambit, sundered, some of the momodori series, ori and the woods, and a few others ive forgotten, do you have any more metroidvania recs that are out right now, plauge huntress doesnt count cus that hasnt updated its info in almost years now. Bonus points if the game had a grapplehook swinging mechanic.

You understand what you’re getting into by asking me this question, right?

In any case, a few recent favourites (provided your idea of “recent” means ”published this decade”):

Alwa’s Awakening - This one invokes an older “vania” than most Metroidvanias, drawing primarily from Castlevania II, complete with its preoccupation with hidden passages and near-total lack of signposting.

A Robot Named Fight! - One of the vanishingly few efforts to combine the Metroidvania and roguelike genres that actually plays like a proper Metroidvania. Fair warning: the audiovisual design is… meaty.

Axiom Verge - Starts out as a nearly pure Super Metroid clone, but rapidly takes it in a very different (and very brainfucky) direction. Not quite so nonlinear as Hollow Knight, but it’s close!

Column on the Sea - The way this one plays puts me in mind of a Kirby game, though I’m not 100% sure why. Has a lot more content than you’d expect looking at the production values.

Dandara - A mobile-friendly Metroidvania designed to be played with a touch screen, though a PC gamepad will do in a pinch. Just got a big content update less than a week before I made this post.

Dust: An Elysian Tale - A hack and slash brawler that takes its cues from the old Vanillaware library, particularly Muramasa: The Demon Blade. A good one if you’re a fan of racking up big combos.

Environment Station Alpha - Another fairly straight Super Metroid clone, this one never strays very far from its brief, but manages to do some interesting things within that framework.

Even the Ocean - A nonviolent puzzle platformer with mechanics based on manipulating mass and momentum. Includes light visual novel style interludes between chapters.

The Fall - The first of two Metroidvania/point-and-click adventure game hybrids on this list. Don’t expect a lot of action out of this one – it’s mostly about gender roles.

forma.8 - A UFO-piloting game in the style pioneered by Insanely Twisted Shadow Planet, though considerably less monochromatic. You do grapple stuff, though since you can fly there’s not much swinging.

Gato Roboto - A fun little one-bit retro platformer where you play as a housecat piloting a giant mech suit; think Blaster Master meets Earthworm Jim and you’ll have the right general idea.

Kunai - Play as a sapient tablet PC and fight evil robots. It’s short and has a fair bit of unrewarding backtracking, but if you like grapple hook mechanics, this is the game for you.

LostWinds 2 - Technically not actually this decade, as it’s a port of a 2009 Nintendo Wii title, but I’m invoking “it’s my post” privilege. I’m plugging the sequel because it’s the stronger game by a fair margin.

Mini Ghost - A retro MSX-style prequel to Ghost 1.0 (which doesn’t make my recommended list due to Reasons), this one’s main draw is the included level editor.

Mystik Belle - The aforementioned second Metroidvania/point-and-click adventure hybrid. Play in easy mode if you won’t want to deal with annoying inventory size restrictions.

Outbuddies - A lot of the games in this post are retro, but this one takes the unusual step of modelling itself after pre-1990 PC games rather than consoles. Wonderfully nonlinear, if you can get over the useless map.

Out There Somewhere - This one doesn’t have a grappling hook, but it does have a teleporter gun, which is… grappling hook adjacent? It enables many of the same sorts of physics puzzles, at any rate.

Owlboy - This one’s very similar to Iconoclasts, both in terms of its production values and in terms of the fact that it spent over a decade in development hell, yet somehow turned out to be good.

Seasons after Fall - An atmospheric walking simulator with light Metroidvania elements. Don’t boot this one up if you’re looking to get in a quick play session – it moves slooooow.

Shantae and the Pirate’s Curse - Gameplay-wise, it’s one of the best casual Metroidvanias of its generation; design-wise, it’s incredibly horny – like, pixel art boob physics horny. You’ve been warned!

Song of the Deep - An underwater exploration game that – like Gato Roboto, above – features both in-vehicle and out-of-vehicle gameplay. A spiritual successor to Aquaria (see below).

SteamWorld Dig 2 - A Metroidvania crossbred with an arcade-style mining game; like, imagine if Dig Dug had a plot. It’s part of a larger metaplot, but the story is mostly comprehensible by itself.

SuperEpic: The Entertainment War - Self-styled comedy games are always a mixed bag, and this one is no exception. You do get to play as a raccoon riding a llama, though.

Teslagrad - A predominantly linear puzzle platformer that needs a lot of squinting to qualify as Metroidvania; I’m including it mostly because I really like its visual style.

Timespinner - Very Symphony of the Night. Cons: doesn’t do much with its central premise of time manipulation outside of a few early puzzles. Pros: not a single character in this game is heterosexual.

Touhou Luna Nights - This one has excellent production values for a fan-game, and – unlike the preceding rec – it actually does some interesting things with its time mechanics.

Treasure Hunter Man 2 - This lightweight Wonder Boy inspired title is a sequel to a 2008 freeware game, casting you in the role of the first game’s protagonist’s mom.

Valdis Story: Abyssal City - A gothic platformer with four mechanically distinct playable characters. Look up a no-spoilers guide for the true ending – you won’t be getting it without one!

Vision Soft Reset - A run-and-gun platformer where save points are also save states: when you fast travel to an earlier save point, you also travel back in time to whenever you last saved there.

Waking Mars - If you’ve gotten this far you’re probably expecting to see weird genre crossbreeds, but get this: this one’s a cross between a Metroidvania and a gardening simulator!

Wuppo - A super-artsy exploration platformer with some very odd gameplay choices, including an entire chapter that can be completed by waiting – in real time – for someone else to fix the problem for you.

Yoku’s Island Express - Arguably more of a collectathon platformer than a Metroidvania, I’m including this one mostly for the novelty of its pinball-based gameplay mechanics.

If you’re willing to consider games that I enjoyed, but wouldn’t necessarily recommend to general audiences owing to unreasonable difficulty, conspicuously janky mechanics, and/or being old enough that getting them to run properly on modern PCs can be a challenge, you might have a look at any of Aquaria, Catmaze, Cave Story, Fortune Summoners, Guardian, Mable & The Wood (grapple hook mechanics in this one), Mech Chip, Saira, Visual Out and You Have to Win the Game.

Bunny Must Die! Chelsea and the 7 Devils would also make the latter list, but it’s been withdrawn from sale by the publisher at the time of this posting, with no ETA on when – or whether – it will become available again. I think Outland is presently in the same boat, which is a shame, because it would have given me an excuse to include another goofy genre hybrid (Metroidvania with Ikaruga-style colours swapping bullet hell mechanics, in this case).

Finally, both Blaster Master Zero and its sequel recently received PC ports, so those may be worth checking out if you didn’t catch them on consoles.

(To anticipate the obvious question, yes, I have in fact played – and in most cases completed – every game mentioned in this post. Remember when I said my taste in games is extraordinary predictable? Yeah.)

[arch-venus25]

The Head and the Heart, Part 4

Hello everyone,

I submitted this for @just-the-hiddles‘s The Damnit Jim, I’m A Vampire, Not A Landlord Fic Frenzy.

This chapter is less action heavy, but just as important. Thanks for hanging in there and reading!

Series Masterlist: The Head and The Heart

Summary: The twins are taking a night off from their graduate studies-- or at least Tessa is; her twin sister, Antha, is just trying to keep her out of trouble. What starts as a night of good old-fashioned fun and flirting quickly changes as they find themselves at the doorstep of the Hollow House Bed and Breakfast.

Characters: OFCs Antha and Tessa King, original characters/vampires

WARNINGS: 18+ for suggestive themes and violence, cursing, implied drug use, implied rape, stressful/scary situations, vampires, and characters with incredible hair-- you’ve been warned. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 3812

Part Four: The Aftermath

           The weathered professor seemed very confused but stood her ground and insisted, “Miss King, take the summer off.”

           “I just need a week, that’s all—and then I’ll get the methodology section to you—Dr. Watts I just need another week, please!” Antha pushed back. Dr. Watts set her glasses on her desk and then waved her over to a deep-tufted-leather sofa.

           “Antha,” her voice lowered, “I’ve known you for what—five years? You don’t become a valedictorian because you don’t like to write. You have been moody these past few weeks, you barely passed the final exam, and you’ve pushed back the thesis methodology three times. Last class, you were so distracted I would have rather you skipped. I know you, talk to me, what’s going on?”

           “My sister and I had a Friday night out with some friends and something happened.” Antha murmured, staring down at her feet.

           “Friday nights aren’t what they used be; did you hear about the fight that broke out at that dive bar off of—oh, what’s it called? You know the place—well, it was all over the news,” she paused gravely, “you weren’t there were you?”

           The twin nodded slowly. She felt overwhelmed in front of her advisor. She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut before replying. “Tessa’s date got into a fight with an old flame, it was a whole thing. But after…” She couldn’t continue. The advisor took her hand gently.

           “Did someone hurt you?”

           Antha’s eyes welled and all she could do was stare. As if she said the words out loud, it would become more true than it already was. The doctor’s forehead wrinkled as her brows gathered together. Having lived through the revolutions of the sixties and the proceeding struggle for equality, Dr. Watts knew the dangers women faced. She didn’t need an answer; she just wanted to offer shelter to a young woman. She knew just from looking at her student that whatever happened, it was beyond words.

           “You’re taking the summer and fall semester off—or at the very least take the summer off and go to a student counselor; its free, it comes with your tuition, so please use it. If you need anything you know you and your sister can come to me.” She wrote down her personal number and one for the counselors’ office. Antha held the little shred of stationary. She promised she would do just that.

        Shortly after, she left her advisor’s office and floated through the campus green and then waited by the bus stop. Her feet told her she was going home, yet her attention was somewhere far away. What can I say to a counselor? Who would understand what we saw at Hollow House? Without realizing, she had retrieved something from her pocket; she stared dumfounded at the pewter-colored iris that gleamed back.

        Antha couldn’t get rid of it. But in a moment of frustration, she chucked the marble-like eye into a nearby drain. She returned to her spot and tried to focus on scheduling a counselor. Moving forward, that’s what I need, she figured.

        A familiar wheezing crawled up the street. The sluggishness of a muffler that had seen better days filled her ears as she dazed at the phone number-laden scrap paper.  “—Antha!” Someone yelled. To her surprise she peered up to see Doug hanging out of his rusty Buick, looking just as timid as ever. He seemed anxious, for what reason she didn’t know. “I’ve been calling your name. You’ve gone deaf ol’ girl—you want a ride?” He asked with forced humor in his voice. She watched him blankly as his expression fell. “You alright?”

        Antha thought about it and suddenly felt stupid. All of her gusto about moving forward had evaporated; she lamely shook her head like a weary child. She felt like a little girl in a world that was too big for her. It all just seemed too much.

        The July swelter didn’t let up even with the windows down. The two didn’t speak as they made their way to their favorite pizza joint. Thrilled to be out of the unairconditioned Buick’s steel embrace, they collapsed into the far back booth of the pizzeria. All the servers knew it was Doug and Antha’s spot; they habitually kept it clean and empty, knowing they would eventually roll in. They made it to the “golden hour”. The sacred three hours between the lunch and dinner rush. It was their favorite time.

        “Whatchas want?” The straggly blue-haired waitress chewed her bubblegum like a goat.

        “The usual—uh hold on—when did you eat last?” Doug asked. Antha shrugged and realized she didn’t know. She couldn’t even think that far back. “Can we get a double order of the usual? But make two of them to-go?” The waitress didn’t even answer as she went to get drinks. “You want to talk about it?”

           “Nope. I said everything already.” Antha wasn’t mad at him, she was just tired. She was more annoyed that he would ask about the matter and then dispute the realism of what she explained. Doug grumbled when the waitress slopped the pitcher and straws down, vanilla coke-a-cola splashing everywhere.

           “—Hey, don’t we get like a punch-card or something? You know, for every hundred pizzas we buy, we get the next one free?” He politely suggested, his way of being confrontational. He was growing exasperated with the women in his life; he didn’t mind taking it from his close friends, Zoey and the twins, but he was having none of this waitress. She paused, chewed her gum, and left again.

           “Whoa, cool off killer,” Antha snarked, her spirits lifting with each sip of her fountain soda. She looked him over and thought on their friendship for a moment as he griped about that one particular server.

        Doug was a shy, lanky, ginger-bearded young man. He was passionate about things and supportive of the people he loved, but didn’t reserve much attention for the people outside of that parameter. He lived in vintage band t-shirts, had friendly light eyes, and a funny smile. No one could resist his unkempt wolfish hair or his corny sense of humor; he had a way of growing on a person. But he always showed up, his guitar in tow. That’s why Antha didn’t fight him when he asked about that night; she knew he actually cared and was trying his best to understand. He couldn’t help her though. No one could help.

        “How about we hang out this weekend, do a barbeque? Nobody grills a burger like you—and Tessa can make her sangria, huh, what do you think?” He tried to turn the conversation to open her up.

        “Uhh… I don’t know. I can’t plan that far ahead, I’m real busy.” She declined. The sausage pizzas arrived faster than expected and Doug dropped slices on their plates.

        “Busy yeah? Mmm-hmmm,” he bit into his slice, cheese tangling in his five o’clock shadow, “busy not writing your thesis, not eating, and not sleeping? Ant, the last time I saw you eat was a few days ago when I brought pizza over. You gonna talk to me?”

        Antha sighed loudly and glared at him. She was worn-through with the people in her life too. I’m too tired for this shit, she thought. She pushed her plate forward and abandoned her half-eaten slice. He saw her mild protest and his cheeks tinged pink. They silently stared each other down, him chewing as loud as he could manage while she obnoxiously slurped her soda in reply.

        Before they could hash out their issues a patron burst through the front entrance. “Hey—hic—you seen Ant? Where she at? The back?” Tessa was hiccupping and talking all sorts of loud, like she was in a club on a Saturday night. “Oh hey girls!” She pointed at the staff and sashayed herself to the booth; her bedazzled sandals slapping the linoleum like a jackhammer in the quiet place. The front door jingled again and in rushed Zoey.

        “I’m sorry,” she apologized to the front of the house and then chased after Tessa. “I picked her up because she was texting me weird messages—I thought I could calm her down with something to eat.” She explained to the table as she took a seat next to Doug.

        “I already ate today.” Tessa insisted, sliding in next to her sister and almost toppling over a pizza.

        “Oh yeah, what did you have for lunch?” Doug asked, his patience wearing thin.

        “GIN and uh—” she had to think about it but excitedly rebounded, “and uh water ice. Breakfast of champions!” Tessa thought she was quite funny, regardless how everyone else disagreed.

        “How about we have a little slice of pi—” Doug pandered but she wasn’t going to hear any of it.

        “Now who would put sausage on a pizza? Oh, no. I have enough meat in my life—you know what I’m sayin’ Zo—you feel me?” She howled.

        “That’s cute.” Doug’s patience officially went on vacation as of that second. He tore the sausage off some of the pie and then thrust the mangled slice in front of the drunk twin. “There ya’ go, just cheese—And you eat your damn slice too! This has gone on long enough—we’re going to have a barbeque and chill like we always do! It’s Fourth of July this weekend, did you know that?” He directed at the other twin.

        “This white boy’s hollering at you, oh lord…” Tessa cackled; her cheese dripped down the side of the table as she reached for some ice chips from an empty cup. Zoey was mortified and motioned to Antha for help, her friend was out of control.

        “Yeah—well this boy’s about tired of this foolishness! I don’t know all of what’s happened that night, but neither one of you will talk to me about it! Ant you’ve been practically dead, a walking zombie for three weeks—and Tessa, it’s three o’clock in the afternoon, what the hell has gotten into you?”

        “Gin.” She giggled.

        “Hey Katy? Can we get all this to go, with some two liters?” He yelled across the full length of the restaurant.

        Zoey handled the food transport as Doug buckled the twins into his car. He mumbled to himself, “…goddamn vampires my ass…” as he cleared his fogging glasses. Tessa began to mildly complain about the heat when the car stopped at a red light. They all noticed a young man struggling to get into a car at the gas station across the way.

        “Is that José?” She whispered. They witnessed his mother trying to steady him, juggling his crutches and searching for a spot on him that wasn’t bandaged. Adorned in a neck brace, shoulder sling, full posterior elbow splint, and full left leg cast. Poor José appeared like he faced-off with a combine. Doug glared at the girls in his rear-view mirror. The light turned green and not another word was said.

        He parked the Buick under the tree closest to the house and got the girls inside. Zoey did the same and brought the provisions to the shaded porch. It was too hot to do anything other than sit around by the fan or stay in the AC. Tessa went to her room when they got in; she felt awful about what she had seen at the gas station.

        They worked together to set up the tall pedestal fan on the porch, because the porch fan just couldn’t combat Mother Nature alone. They were in the midst of dawdling about when Antha accidentally fell asleep on the porch swing while Doug played the guitar. Zoey elicited his help inside to leave Antha to nap. The two were shocked with the state of things.

        Momma’s house was a frightful mess. They never saw it in its condition before: Dishes with dust, articles of clothing haphazardly dropped, laundry either half started or half done, it was difficult to tell. “Momma would roll over, I swear…” Zoey whispered. They agreed to tidy up while the twins rested, lest Momma rise up and haunt them. That woman was meticulous and was not above coming back from the grave to tell everyone what’s-what.

        As if life had been frozen in time from the month prior. The twin’s incident hit like a meteor and their friends now saw the wreckage. While they hadn’t admitted it out loud, they had stopped living too; obsessed with what happened that night at Hollow House. Grasping for a truth that they couldn’t reach.

        The overloaded dishwasher whined as it cycled and it reminded Doug of seeing José, busted up and struggling. That’s what really happens after a bar-brawl. There’s always a winner and always a loser. He half-heartedly swept the floor and thought to himself: these are the parts they edit from movies. The aftermath. The guns, the glory, the blood all made the cut; but the estranged motions we go through to try and find the thread leading back to our lives doesn’t. These are the quiet moments without answers, like loose ends dangling.

        Zoey crept into the kitchen and signaled for him to follow her to the porch. She had just hung the last load of laundry on the line for the afternoon. They were both beat and sweat through from cleaning. They shimmied the big metal ice bucket to the front, fearing they’d disturb Antha. She was so far gone that an earthquake couldn’t wake her. They popped two well-earned beers and exchanged the bits and pieces of what they learned from the twins over the past few weeks.

        “…that’s crazy, right? Like there’s no way what Tessa told me could be real, right? Did someone roofie their drinks?” Zoey asked him as she tied his wavy hair into a top-knot.

        “I’m just worried that something happened they won’t say, like they’re traumatized—I mean, Zo, I was driving to the bar and I seen them covered in blood on the side of the road. Tessa was screaming in the ER that a vampire attacked her sister—and then Antha all of a sudden, calms her down and explains to the doctors that they were lost in the woods, came upon the bed and breakfast for help, and that a strange man assaulted them there. Said they used a fireplace poker in defense, bloodied him up real good, and they escaped to the main road.” Doug took a swig of beer to recuperate.

        He was getting worked up just relaying the story, “But the cops, they investigated that place and found six bodies—slaughtered—in the basement, two of them the owners. The bodies had been sitting there for days before the twins got to ‘em. I’m scared that maniac’s out there. I mean—I’m scared in my own damn apartment when I think about it. What if they were found in that basement? What if we couldn’t find them?” He shook his head.

        “What can we do for them? Are there groups for people like this, who think they’ve seen something supernatural?” Zoey mused aloud as she pinned her jet-black pixie cut hair out of her face. The two pulled fresh beers out of the ice bucket and vowed to do some research after the weekend. They agreed their first goal was to get the twins fed and cared for.

        They watched the sun set into folds of purple, pink, and orange over the high grass. The heat of the day receded with the light, but the humidity persisted only to remind them that it was an intermission; the threat remained that the summer’s full force would return at tomorrow’s dawn.

        The grasshoppers were summoned as Doug strummed his guitar, not truly playing anything particular. Zoey brought out cards to shuffle, waiting on Tessa to play. The evening began to set in peacefully until a rumble cut through the twilight.

        A huge pickup truck barreled down the long drive and parked in front of the house. Out jumped the infamous Flake. His blond hair contrasted against the lavender sky, budding starlight glinting off his aviator sunglasses, and a tooth pick in the corner of his mouth completed his redneck-chic visage. He swaggered up to the porch and was met with a startled Antha; she had jumped up like a viper at the sound of his wheels. He donned a large patch like bandage over half an eye and his hands were wrapped too.

        “Tessa around?” Franco didn’t even offer small talk which had Antha go straight from just waking up to furious.

        “Not for you.”

“Well, I wanted to check in on her—haven’t been able to call on account of that scuffle at the bar. Them boys got my tires and my phone.”

        “Looks like they got your eye too.” She scoffed.

        “Yep,” he laughed and pulled his sunglasses down to reveal those piercing big blues, “you should see the other guy.”

        “We did.” Her disdain seemed to suck the air out of the whole yard. Franco leaned on the porch banister and pulled a smoke from behind his ear. Her eyes burned so hot on him she could have lit his cigarette.

        “I can see you’re not much for visitors, so I’ll just leave this. If you could give it to Tessa, I’d be mighty grateful.” He handed her a number, but she walked away not even considering it. Zoey jumped up and took the note. “Night ya’ll.” Franco flicked his butt into the yard and made his way back to his truck.

        Long after he left and the noise of his truck faded Antha sat, her arms crossed, on the porch swing. Her friends idled by, every so often glancing in her direction waiting for her to speak her mind. The disgruntled twin couldn’t connect the pieces of her dislike for Franco. It wasn’t as simple as his jeans were too torn, his truck too loud, or his gaze too heavy; it was the fact that she knew nothing about him. No one did. Where did he come from—and where was he going? It didn’t add up to Antha that he was the first hillbilly she ever met without a tan. What working man doesn’t have a farmer’s tan? Finally, after a good twenty-five minutes of contemplation Antha announced, “I need a drink.” With a flutter of Zoey’s sundress, she presented a liter of honey whiskey, lemon wedges, and shot glasses.

        A few shots and some pizza in her stomach, Antha started to feel somewhat whole. The four-hour nap revived her a bit, or least lessened the haze she had been wading through. She could finally take in her surroundings: she was lucky to have her friends. When the mosquitos really started to bite they brought their party inside and relished the cool—and now clean—house. “I don’t know what I’d do without you two, I’m sorry I can’t,” she paused, “I just can’t right now.” Before Antha could work out her sentiment the queen bee descended from her room.

        “That’s it! I have decided!” Tessa announced, thumping down the stairs like a sentinel charge. “I’m going to visit José tomorrow—even though it’s not my fault he got his ass beat, I still think it’s only fair to show love.” She waited, her hands on her hips, for their unyielding approval or preferably a round of applause.

        “Look at you growing a conscious,” was the general consensus of the other three. Tessa saucily tossed her braids as she dusted her shoulders. They all scooted into the kitchen table and fed her dinner. Just like a heart, she had a way of pulsing life into a room. Before they knew it, they were swapping stories like always.

        Tessa was laughing and teasing Doug when she took a shot. She threw her empty glass down on the table as was customary, but when the glass met the table it then clinked as if something had been dropped into it. They all sat forward to see a silvery-gray eye in the bottom.

        “Did you just spit that in there?” Doug’s eyes were wide.

        The twins beheld each other knowingly.

        In the beginning, they initially freaked out over the eyes returning. Now it became a sickening fascination of what they could do to them. The eyes always returned. They burned them, they drowned them, and they threw them away; every time the eyes returned to the twins.

        “I tried to tell you, but you’re not listening,” Antha began, “these eyes are following us. Ever since we killed that thing at Hollow House, we’ve had them.” Doug and Zoey’s faces were pained in disbelief.

        “Here.” Tessa got up roughly and held the eye over the sink. She turned on the garbage disposal and dropped it in; it made a grotesque metal sound and then after a few rotations, crunched like glass. Antha showed the eye that was always in her back pocket and explained she threw it away in a drain across town earlier that day. She threw hers in too, directly into the disposal.

        “Well, how long does it take for them to come back?” Zoey asked.

        “They’re not coming back—this is a trick!” Doug looked like an angry leprechaun with his reddened face and stubble. The twins’ faces didn’t even shift with the accusation.

        “Sometimes its seconds, sometimes hours, or a day. It doesn’t matter, they’ll be back.” Antha confirmed and the twins took their seats at the table. The room became solemn as Tessa popped another round of beers and poured a flight of shots for them all, knowing the liquid courage was needed. Doug jumped up from his seat and began checking under cushions, searching cupboards, and drawers. The girls sat back and waited as he processed.

        He huffed, “…you got back-ups, or hiding ‘em somewhere—I don’t know why you’re playing with me right now…it’s not funny…” But then a loud plop sounded on the kitchen table, like a golf ball dropped from the ceiling. He turned to watch a second oversized marble drop seemingly out of thin air. He returned to the table and gawked at the two eyes sitting in front of the twins. “You got to tell us what happened at Hollow House.” Doug’s voice was hushed as he shakily accepted the whiskey shot from Tessa. In unison they saluted and threw back the shots with beer chasers.

        While the four friends went over the sordid events, in gruesome detail, a mysterious figure watched from the unlit porch window. The uninvited guest crept off through the yard, down the dirt-path driveway, and made a phone call:

        “They got them eyes,” it reported, “I reckon there’ll be a war.”

Twinning Taglist: If you want to be added or removed just let me know; please share with anyone that might be interested. I would love any and all feedback so I can learn and become a better writer. Thank you!  I tagged some people that I thought would be interested in this. @myoxisbroken​ @just-the-hiddles​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @nildespirandum​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @latent-thoughts​ @emeraldrosequartz​ @villainousshakespeare​ @hopelessromanticspoonie​ @caffiend-queen​ @poetic-fiasco​ @lokimostly​ @dianamolloy​ @marvelgirlonamarvelworld​ @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0​ @cateyes315​ @mooncat163​ @nuggsmum​ @myraiswack​​​ @wolfpawn​​ @plastic-heart​​ @confusednerd09​

[voldiebuns]

Horror Movie a Day 2020

The past couple of years I’ve done a challenge of trying to watch a horror movie a day through the month of October. Last year didn’t go well since I was so busy travelling, so I’m hoping for better this time around!

Under the cut you'll find my list of watched movies, plus rating and some thoughts about them. I’ll also be posting every day at my film twitter. Lemme know if you have any suggestions for what I should watch this month!

Hereditary (2018) | ★★★☆☆ This movie was... not at all what I was expecting from trailers and such. The devil worshiping angle was definitely a surprise, which I didn't entirely mind, but the first and second halves of the movie felt very disjointed from one another because of it. There were some good moments, but all in all, not entirely sure I liked the movie.

Parasite (2019) | ★★★★☆ More a thriller than horror, but I make the rules! I enjoyed this one a lot for the sense of tension it achieves even when not a whole lot of “action” was going on until close to the end. And of course how well it depicts class differences and how deeply affecting poverty is. Very good.

Attack of the Giant Leeches (1959) | ★★☆☆☆ Granted, this is over 60 years old now, but it’s still very bad. And not even in a particularly fun way. It’s honestly pretty boring and not scary at all... But at least it was short!

Piranha (1972) | ★☆☆☆☆ So 70s it hurts lol And also so boring it hurts. I spent most of the movie wondering when something was actually going to happen. But the real thing I wonder now is why this was in my sharks, piranhas, and monsters movie pack because there’s approximately two seconds of actual piranhas in this and they’re not even really attacking anyone?? I think they may have included the wrong Piranha because the picture on the cover is... not this movie lol

Them! (1954) | ★★☆☆☆ I actually thought it seemed pretty well made for the time, but it was definitely very slow. Interesting as a reflection of US nuclear fears, which I don’t think gets seen as much in movies, though!

Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus (2009) | ★★☆☆☆ This is... so bad. I’m pretty sure their budget had to be like $5 and half a gig of stock footage, but even aside from the godawful CGI, the cinematography is almost unbelievably awful and the acting is often cringeworthy. It also wasn’t particularly fun? But the romance was actually kind of cute.

Mega Piranha (2010) | ★☆☆☆☆ I honestly can’t even count the ways this was a terrible movie lol And still, not even in a particularly fun way! More cringe than cheese, which was really just disappointing.

Beneath Loch Ness (2001) | ★★★☆☆ This was actually really not bad. The graphics were incredibly 2001, but it came off as very heartfelt and the characters and their relationships felt real in a way they tend not to in these kinds of movies. I enjoyed it!

30,000 Leagues Under the Sea (2007) | ★★☆☆☆ Not really a horror movie, but in a pack with my other sea creature horror movies so it'll do. Production value was terrible and the plot was sketchy, but it had some interesting bits. Overall a pretty hearty meh for this one.

Tremors (1990) | ★★★★☆ First rewatch of the year! It's been years, though, and I needed a refresher before watching the rest. This movie is basically the floor is lava with killer worms and I love it lol A really fun movie!

Tremors II: Aftershocks (1996) | ★★★☆☆ Earl without Val was not quite so much fun, but they did some cool things with the graboids. Plus many more explosions! Biggest complaint is the puppets and CGI didn't always mesh well.

Tremors 3: Back to Perfection (2001) | ★★★☆☆ Wish they'd stop ruining things with worse and worse CGI lol This one got a bit goofy even compared to the others, but it was overall still fun!

Tremors 4: The Legend Begins (2004) | ★★★★☆ This one was really fun! I loved that they went back to the beginning of the town, especially since it was easy to see how it became Perfection in the end. I think it's the best one, tied with the original.

Tremors 5: Bloodlines (2015) | ★★★☆☆ The cinematography on this one was sometimes very weird. And the Jurassic Park homages went a bit past "homage" at point imo. But still a pretty fun watch.

Poltergeist (1982) | ★★★★☆ I think I'd seen this before, but I really couldn't remember. Either way, it holds up pretty well! Very engaging and creepy weird, with some good gross moments too.

Sleepy Hollow (1999) | ★★★★☆ Very enjoyable! Tim Burton's style meshed very well with the story, and of course the cast was full of wonderful actors. Unfortunate that Depp stars in it, but what can you do?

Underworld (2003) | ★★★★☆ Not horror exactly, but definitely adjacent enough. Great aesthetic and very enjoyable (re)watch! Also I super appreciated the soundtrack lol

Lake Placid (1999) | ★★★★☆ After I started watching, I realize I think I've seen this before. Still enjoyed it! The characters are definitely the draw more than the croc, though. Would have liked to see a bit more of it

Ghost Town (2009) | ★★☆☆☆ Holy bad acting and shaky cam Batman! Terrible movie with the barest hint of an interesting one beneath, but I think my biggest complaint is there was a Wiccan ritual being done... in the 1800s lol

The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane (1976) | ★★★☆☆ There were really no horror elements in this to speak of, which I found a bit disappointing, and I also didn't feel like it had a very satisfactory ending. But I did enjoy the movie for the most part. I guess I just wanted more.

The Witches (1990) | ★★★☆☆ Mostly just pretty goofy, but a fun watch and it felt very seasonal. Anjelica Huston was, of course, the best part! Though I'm always happy to see Jim Henson puppetry as well.

The Silence of the Lambs (1991) | ★★★★☆ This was uh dated in several ways that make it a bit of an uncomfortable watch. But I really did enjoy it! The Clarice/Hannibal dynamic was even better than I'd been expecting.

Killer Klowns from Outer Space (1988) | ★★★☆☆ Wow, that was something else lol Something absolutely ridiculous and incredibly weird, but also very fun! I really enjoyed the main three characters and the music too.

Insidious (2010) | ★★★★☆ Such a good sense of tension in this! A lot of that was thanks to the music tbh, but I do think James Wan just has a really good feel for horror. Also, a very good ending, I'm definitely excited to see 2!

Malevolent (2018) | ★★★☆☆ A fairly enjoyable movie, but it just felt a little lacking and it seemed like the end came up really quickly. To be honest it wasn't quite what I was expecting. I wish there would have been a bit more with the ghosts.

The Conjuring (2013) | ★★★★☆ A rewatch since it's been a few years since I watched it. Very enjoyable movie with good music, great tension, and some actually good jump scares. The Annabelle stuff seems disconnected to the rest, though, I wish that had been more tied in.

Annabelle (2014) | ★★★☆☆ This movie dragged quite a bit and I feel like things could have been compressed quite a bit and it would have been better. The cult connection also could have been explored a lot more imo, because it felt a bit slapped

The Last House on the Left (2009) | ★★☆☆☆ Way too much sexualized violence for my tastes tbh, but I liked the concept and the cast was very good. I think I'll try the original sometime and see how it compares.

The Amityville Horror (2005) | ★★★☆☆ I feel like I may have seen this before? Not really worth the rewatch lol Like this movie is fine I guess, it just felt a bit empty and was overall unsatisfying to me.

The Crazies (2010) | ★★★★★ I was a little iffy going into this bc I thought it might be zombie-esque, and it was, but I really enjoyed it! I liked what they did with the government satellite especially.

Midsommar (2019) | ★★★★★ I was expecting this to be good since I’d heard good things about it, and it so was! The sense of strangeness and building tension was excellent. And it was just such a beautiful movie tbh.

[yellowmagicalgirl]

After Fate's Done with Us

Months after being freed from Merlin's hold, Douxie and Jim finally have a conversation they've been putting off.

[Image description: an anonymous message asking, ““Can I have one?” with Jim and Douxie?”]

Hey anon, so I ended up deciding to make this a sequel to my fic Destiny’s Pawn, though if you don’t want to read all 19k of that you could probably get away with reading this with the knowledge that in the fic this is a sequel to, Wizards didn’t happen. Instead, Douxie (real name: Mordred) was the son of King Arthur, and Merlin mind-controlled Mordred into killing his father. Mordred then managed to escape to modern Arcadia Oaks, only for Merlin to mind control Jim, cut off Douxie’s hand, and then mind control Douxie once more.

AO3

FFN

Jim hasn't hung out with Douxie before. No, that isn't quite true. Even though the two of them are in different grades and go to rival schools, Jim doesn't have many friends that aren't mutual friends of Douxie's. Thus, the two of them have hung out many times together, but they haven't spoken much, and the two of them have certainly never hung out alone together. Not until now, at least. Claire is supposed to meet up with the two of them at Jim's house, but her mom had sprung a last minute event on her and Claire hasn't been able to shadow portal away yet. She claimed that she was going to try, but as the minutes pass neither of the two boys are too sure.

The silence is a little awkward, to say the least. Then again, it's entirely possible that only Jim finds the silence awkward. Douxie had seemed content to put on earbuds and play with the skull pendent he always wears. Jim supposes that it is only natural for their relationship to be as awkward as the silence is. The first time they had been alone together, they had pulled fireballs and glaives on each other. Douxie had done so willingly and Jim...

Jim doesn't want to think about that time. Thankfully, the oven starts beeping to tell him his timer is done, so Jim leans down and opens the oven. Inside it is a baking sheet full of cookies. They're a recipe that is appetizing to both humans and trolls. Jim pulls them out with his bare hands; it's an advantage to being a half-troll.

"Can I have one?" Jim startles slightly and turns to find Douxie staring at the cookies. He must have used magic to move so silently to Jim's side. As Douxie waits for Jim to answer, he tugs the earbuds out of his ears. Some rock song pours out of them with a loud enough volume that makes Jim wonder if Douxie is using magic to prevent hearing damage.

"You'll burn your mouth," Jim says as he closes the oven. Douxie nods and backs away, putting one earbud back on. It's odd, but Jim has a hard time matching up the bravado and daring that Douxie had displayed with the quiet boy walking back to the dining room.  But the trollhunter shouldn't be having such a hard time. Mordred had fought against the trollhunter, and losing his hand had broken Mordred into a weapon. The trollhunter had been a better weapon, of course. A loyal weapon. A wave of cold floods through Jim's bones, and he finds himself clutching his horns and kneeling on the ground. He hears the sound of pounding footsteps.

"Jim?" Douxie kneels in front of him. "You need to breathe. Slowly."

Jim hasn't even realized just how hard it is to breathe until now. He should have realized, of course, because the sound of his own hyperventilating is now so incredibly loud in his own ears. Jim tries to ask the question "how" but even though his lips make the movements he can't put noise to his words. He looks up and makes eye contact. Douxie flinches and looks to his right to avoid it.

"Just, try to mirror my breathing," Douxie says. Jim follows the order, careful to keep from making eye contact. It's embarrassing, just how long it takes just to remember how to breathe.

"I know he's dead but, do you ever feel like Merlin might try to take control of you again?" Jim asks. He regrets it as in his peripheral vision he watches Mordred's eyes grow hollow at the question. It's a look Jim recognizes from after Claire's possession, and every nightmare or flashback to it thereafter. It's a look that Jim recognizes from his own face in a mirror, these last few months after they defeated Merlin. It’s a look Jim recognizes in the reflection off his armor, every time he says the full incantation to summon the silver armor and sword of daylight.

"Not exactly," Mordred says as he twists the string of his hoodie back and forth. "Not Merlin, but fate itself, even though it'd been Merlin all along." Douxie stuffs his right hand in his pocket, like it is cold, but Jim doesn't know if he can feel temperature through the black metal.

"I'm sorry," Jim says.

"It's not your fault you get flashbacks. And I grew up with... all that. Long before your time."

"No, not that." Jim gestures at Mordred's right arm. "I'm sorry I didn't do more to help you."

"What could you have done?"

Jim opens his mouth and closes it. It's not even like he can claim that he could have fought back harder, not when what little he had of his own mind in that state was devoted to fighting off the magic that Merlin had woven into Jim's crystalline bones and stone skin.

"Besides, you were nicer than my cousin," Mordred continues. "Do... have you found a therapist?"

"Not really. I mean, I've tried multiple ones, but it's not like any of the ones I've been to in Arcadia are trained to deal with mind control, and I can't exactly go to a human one in the next town over." Not without lying, at least. "Strickler's been trying to see if any of his contacts from the Janus Order are still around, but they all went underground after the massacre... Have you been able to find one?"

"I mean, I tried going to the one Steve recommended to me, but like you said, mind control. And while possession and mind control aren't exactly the same I've asked Claire and..."

"And she hasn't found one." Apparently Claire had tried going to her family therapist - the same one her mom had tried to recommend to his mom - for her anxiety, but given how badly Morgana had messed up her psyche he was far from as effective as he used to be.

"Yeah. So I was wondering if you..." Douxie trails off and looks away. "Are the cookies ready yet?"

Jim rolls his eyes at the obvious but needed change in subject and stands up, helping Douxie to stand afterwards. "Not unless you know a spell to cool them off."

[mckitterick]

there's a hole in the world, full of ghosts as old as bones

(that’s a photograph of "Thanksgiving 1977," by Lawrence, Kansas, artist Elizabeth Layton that I snapped in James Gunn's basement tonight - another famous Lawrencian and one of the most important people in my life, who died in December) 

Just got back from visiting Jim Gunn's house.

So strange to be there where it feels we just had take-out breakfast from HyVee, even the carpet stain from spilled coffee is still there in the living room carpet. But Jim isn't.

Except he is. He's in every piece of paper, every stack of books, every award and trophy. He's there on his office chair, covered in cat hair. He's leaning on his yellow-handled walker, which he grudgingly used only in his last months. He's putting up watercolor family portraits and vintage science fiction art on the wood paneled walls, and cat posters in the garage. He's on the many bookshelves, the kitchen table covered in magazines and unopened mail, the refrigerator empty except for dried-up condiments. He's everywhere.

But he's nowhere, too. Except as dust in an urn in Pioneer Cemetery.

I sense his loss like a hole in the fabric of spacetime. As if there's something wrong in the universe.

Getting home, the only person to greet me is Miette Kitty.

All of this got me feeling very strange: This house should be full of life, of people. It used to be. Two other humans have lived here with me, before. But until I opened the door, only my kitty is here now. Like Jim's cat Annie, until our mutual friend Ruth adopted her.

Friends! Like so many during this quarantine year, all my friends are but memories, except for digital communiques and a few chilly outdoors chats - socially distanced, so no hugs, no sharing of food.

My students appear only as images in Zoom. These ghosts in my machine appear quite lifelike, and maintain dynamic conversations with one another every class period. But my classrooms have sat deserted all year. The lovely and troublesome scholarship hall we rent for our residential Science Fiction Summer program gathered dust last year, and will again this summer. And Jim could not visit either.

Then there's the hollow within: During this devastating year, I've found keeping up with the work, repairs, and personal stuff I need to do drains my energy to the core, preventing me from accomplishing most of the things I really want to do. Plus those I need to do to nourish my writing or friendships or anything else beyond survival.

Like complete my revision of my first Jack & Stella novel - which is sooooo close to being done, so thoroughly revised I'll need to post side by side versions to show my Patreon followers the vast difference from what they've seen last! But finishing has been like swimming through clay.

Did I die last year, but everyone was just too polite to say?

Feels like a black hole started collapsing in my life some time in 2019, and fell beyond its blue event horizon in the couple months between when my long-time partner moved out and Jim died.

Thanksgiving in the middle. Hence my choice of illustration for this entry.

This grief upon grief upon grief, after so many years of fighting various antagonists simply to keep going, all the while overcoming mental health challenges (and doing pretty well in that, I think)... yet everything has been very heavy to carry.

I can feel it in my bones.

Aging isn't about time, not really. It's about what happens over time, the accumulation of loss.

And so very much loss is pulling at my heart right now.

I read today that the Appalachian Mountains are older than vertebrate life on planet Earth. They have witnessed the rise of life from the seas, our evolution from lungfish. They've listened to the thunder of dinosaurs on the hunt or running for their lives. They've witnessed a thousand thousand generations of ever-changing beings, and the deaths of them all.

They are older than bones.

And one day the young Rocky Mountains will watch their eastern cousins crumble into the ground, long after humans have gone.

The man I've thought of as Dad - Science Fiction's Dad, as I've called him in several articles - is gone. I have the proof of witness tonight.

Another important mentor, Fred Pohl, died what feels like just yesterday. A few years ago, my (problematic) mother died. One of my Young Gunns (Workshop alums) died this year, after a couple others in the past decade. And I've only seen the rest, my stalwart alums who've become close friends, as Zoom figures.

Everyone in the world feels like ghosts right now. Or I am the ghost of Chris Who Was.

I'm feeling that loss, that weight we call age.

[joeygoeshollywood]

My 25 Favorite Films of 2020

Well, this was quite the crazy year, especially for movies. While many films that were slated to be released this year were postponed due to the coronavirus pandemic, this year still provided some laughs, tears, and thrills both in theaters and in the living room. 

(NOTE: Due to the delayed awards season calendar and postponed Oscar bait films that are unavailable to be seen before the end of 2020, this list will eventually be updated after having seen the following films: The Father, Minari, News of the World, Nomadland, One Night in Miami, Pieces of a Woman, Promising Young Woman)

Here are my 25 favorite films of the year:

25. Kajillionaire 

Quirky filmmaker Miranda July is back with her first feature in nearly a decade. Kajillionaire is a bizarre but captivating tale about a family of criminal grifters and how the daughter reevaluates her strained relationship with her parents after an outsider is welcomed into the fold. Evan Rachel Wood takes what could have easily been dismissed as a goofy caricature in Old Dolio (yes, that’s her name) and turns into a heartfelt portrayal of a woman whose lifestyle of freeloading dictated by her parents (played by Debra Winger and Richard Jenkins) becomes her own crisis. In many ways, Kajillionaire feels like a fantasy that keeps people asking, “What on earth is going on?” And this time, it’s for the best. 

24. Freaky

Revamping decades-old plots like the body-swapping antics from Freaky Friday can either result in a predictable failure or a surprising success. Thankfully, Freaky falls into the latter category. In this horror comedy, a deranged serial killer (played by Vince Vaughn) swaps bodies with his victim, a timid teen girl (played by Kathryn Newton). What makes the film work though are the dedicated lead performances, particularly by Vaughn, who is pretty convincing as young girl trapped in a grown man’s body. With a few good laughs and decent thrills, Freaky is worth the watch. 

23. The Outpost

The Outpost is an intense film about the real-life story of small group of US troops isolated by surrounding mountains in Afghanistan, under the constant threat of the Taliban, which ultimately comes to a head in the Battle of Kamdesh. The film captures the harrowing experiences of these soldiers with heart-pounding action sequences, which are fueled by a solid cast including Scott Eastwood, Caleb Landry Jones, and Orlando Bloom. 

22. Uncle Frank

Paul Bettany may be best known for playing The Vision in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, but he should be celebrated as his title character in Uncle Frank, a touching dramedy set in 1973 about an NYU professor who returns home to his estranged family for his father’s funeral while his niece, played by rising star Sophia Lillis, idolizes him for teaching her to be her authentic self while he keeps his sexuality a secret. Bettany brilliantly balances the coolness of his stature with the internal agony that ultimately hits a boiling point, which is counterbalanced by Peter Macdissi’s fun performance as Frank’s happy-go-lucky lover who accompanies him back home despite his wishes. 

21. Hillbilly Elegy

Hillbilly Elegy was panned by critics over politics that had absolutely no role the film. Based on the best-selling memoir by J.D. Vance, the newest feature from Ron Howard shows the journey of a boy who despite all odds growing up in a poor family that constantly struggled with abuse and addition managed to get into Yale Law School and achieve the American dream. While both Gabriel Basso and Owen Asztalos hold the film together as the younger and older Vance in the present and flashback scenes, Amy Adams as the impulsive, irresponsible mother and an unrecognizable Glenn Close as the no-nonsense inspiring grandmother that turn Hillbilly Elegy into an acting tour de force. 

20. The Trial of the Chicago 7

Oscar-winning screenwriter Aaron Sorkin sits in the director’s chair once again in this courtroom drama about the real-life protesters who showed up in Chicago during the 1968 Democratic National Convention. With themes that resonate today, The Trial of the Chicago 7 benefits from its sharp screenplay, well-paced editing, and an outstanding ensemble cast that includes Eddie Redmayne, Mark Rylance, Yahoo Abdul-Mateen II, Sacha Baron Cohen, Jeremy Strong, Frank Langella, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Michael Keaton. 

19. Yellow Rose

Broadway actress Eva Noblezada makes her film debut as an aspiring country singer on the run after her mother, an illegal immigrant, is obtained for deportation. Yellow Rose presents a nuanced depiction of US immigration, but at the heart of it is a heartbreaking story of a young woman who struggles between putting her family or her dreams first. Between Noblezada’s powerful performance and solid original music, Yellow Rose hits all the right chords. 

18. Palm Springs

Move over, Groundhog Day. While the Bill Murray classic has largely monopolized the time loop film genre, Palm Springs gives it a run for its money. Andy Sandberg and Cristin Milioti star as the unlikely duo who are stranded reliving the same dreaded wedding day involving mutual acquaintances and their desperate efforts to escape the seemingly inescapable. The Hulu comedy stands on its own two feet for the good laughs, the chemistry between the two leads, and the film’s emotionally-grounded plot.  

17. Let Him Go

Kevin Costner and Diane Lane reunite on the big screen after playing farmer parents in Man of Steel to rancher grandparents in Let Him Go, although this time they are able to display their full acting chops. In this period dramatic thriller, they set out to find their only grandchild following the death of their son only to discover that the widowed daughter-in-law remarried into an infamous crime family. While both Costner and Lane tug at the heartstrings, it’s Lesley Manville, who plays the ruthless matriarch of the family, that really takes command of the screen. Ultimately, Let Him Go is all about family and the lengths one is willing to go to protect it. 

16. Unhinged

In a year plagued by the pandemic, Unhinged led the way to the revival of movie theaters back in August and perhaps in some ways it was meant to be the film to do so as the themes of a rage-fueled society and the lack of human connection carry weight. Russell Crowe stars, as the title suggests, as an unhinged psychopath whose road rage torments a woman and her adolescent son. Unhinged is the epitome of pure entertainment and is why we go to the movies. While it’s not quite the most sophisticated thriller of the year, it’s still one helluva ride. 

15. Emma

Anya Taylor-Joy has had quite the year with both highs (The Queen’s Gambit) and lows (The New Mutants). But it began before the pandemic with the release of Emma, which she stars as the iconic Jane Austen title character, a socialite who meddles in the love life of others while refusing to acknowledge her own shortcomings in that department. Supported with a strong ensemble cast, beautiful production design, and comedic charm, Emma is not to be missed. 

14. The Invisible Man

ln the era of remakes and reboots, very few are as good as Universal’s latest monster flick revival of The Invisible Man. Elisabeth Moss stars as a woman who believes she’s being haunted by her abusive ex-husband, someone she becomes convinced faked his own death and is stalking her without being able to be seen. Filmmaker Leigh Whannell, the writer behind the Saw and Insidious horror franchises, generates good thrills and high-wire tension with the help of high production value and a terrifyingly-good performance from Moss. 

13. Dick Johnson is Dead

Documentarian Kirsten Johnson filmed a beautiful, intimate tribute to her father Dick Johnson, who has been suffering from Alzheimer's in the final years of his life. However, instead of dreading his death, both daughter and father embrace it by having him acting out several scenes of his over-the-top demises. Dick Johnson is Dead may focus on the subject manner of death, but this documentary actually celebrates life and the laughs that happen along the way. 

12. The Wolf of Snow Hollow

Perhaps one of the littlest-known films of the year, The Wolf of Snow Hollow is not your conventional indie comedy horror flick. Writer/director Jim Cummings stars as an overly-heated police officer who attempts to get to the bottom of a string of murders in his small, snowy Utah town by what appears to be some sort of werewolf, though he remains unconvinced. Featuring one of the final performances from veteran actor Robert Forster, The Wolf of Snow Hollow uses its quirky sense of humor to stand out from the rest of the pack. 

11. The Gentlemen 

The Gentlemen is a fun, action-packed, crime caper from Guy Ritchie about the London turf war of drug kingpins. Matthew McConaughey, Charlie Hunnam, Henry Goulding, Michelle Dockery, and Colin Ferrell all round out the strong cast, but its Hugh Grant that really steals the show as the comedically manipulative Fletcher, whose only allegiance is to himself. If you like a stylish film with well-choreographed violence and a fast-paced plot, The Gentlemen should be your cup of tea.  

10. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Some of the best play-to-film adaptations are the films that feel like you’re watching a play, and Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom is one of them. Produced by Denzel Washington, Viola Davis gives a transformative performance as Ma Rainey, known as the “mother of the blues” and the clash she had with a pair of White music producers, but she also butts heads with her trumpet player (played by the late Chadwick Boseman), who also has his own music ambitions. While Davis obviously gives other Oscar-worthy performance, it was Boseman who was able to show how incredibly gifted he was as an actor. And while the world lost him far too soon, at least his last role ended up being his greatest. 

9. The Kid Detective

One of the biggest surprises of the year was how good a movie starring and produced by Adam Brody was. Brody plays a washed up former kid detective who attempts to revive his once-celebrated career of solving mysteries by getting to the bottom of a murder in his hometown. The Kid Detective is a brilliant dark comedy from newcomer writer/director Evan Morgan with good laughs, plenty of plot twists, and a career-best performance from Brody, who proves he’s more than just the pretty face from The O.C. we all know him as. 

8. Mank

Citizen Kane is widely regarded as one of the greatest films ever made and Mank is a worthy tribute. Gary Oldman stars as the title character Herman “Mank” Mankiewicz, the Oscar-winning screenwriter behind the iconic film. David Fincher (The Social Network, Gone Girl) managed to capture the epic scale of the 1941 classic that would make Orson Welles proud. 

7. Soul

Soul is one of those rare existential Pixar films that goes beyond being children’s entertainment. Following in the footsteps of 2015′s Inside Out, Soul depicts what happens to the soul of a jazz musician who’s convinced his time on Earth isn’t over. While the universe created to explain how souls work and the plot that went along with it falls short of its emotions predecessor, Soul is still high-caliber among Pixar films and a great movie for both kids and adults alike. 

6. Another Round

Perhaps the greatest work from Swedish director Thomas Vinterberg to date, Another Round follows four unsatisfied middle aged men who decide to take a theory of task from a Norwegian psychiatrist, who concluded that maintaining a blood alcohol level of 0.050 will enhance their mental and psychological state. Mads Mikkelsen, who’s best known to American audiences as Hannibal Lecter in the short-lived NBC series Hannibal and the Bond villain in Casino Royale, offers a strong, nuanced performance as one of the four educators who embraces this drinking challenge in a film that provides an equal balance of chuckles, cringes, and emotional gut punches. 

5. I’m Thinking of Ending Things

From the crazy mastermind of Charlie Kaufman, the writer behind Being John Malkovich, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Anomalisa, his latest on Netflix is too a mind-bender. I’m Thinking of Ending Things is a surreal, zany, and at times disturbing examination of the human condition as the nameless female protagonist played by an incredible Jessie Buckley mulls over breaking up with her boyfriend (played by Jesse Plemons) while visiting his parents’ house. Accompanied with a stellar production design and a crazy-good performance from Toni Collette as “Mother,” Kaufman newest cerebral feature lives up to his iconic reputation of filmmaking. 

4. Da 5 Bloods

Spike Lee is one of the few genius filmmakers who is able to blend multiple genres together and his latest film is no different. Da 5 Bloods is an action adventure, buddy comedy, dramatic character study, and war movie all wrapped up into one about a group of Vietnam War veterans who return to the former battlegrounds to find the remains of one of their fallen soldiers as well as some treasure that they kept hidden years ago. With a strong ensemble cast that includes the late Chadwick Boseman, its longtime character actor Delroy Lindo who steals the show with his powerful performance. Da 5 Bloods is easily one of Netflix’s strongest films to date. 

3. The Assistant

One of the first #MeToo-era films, The Assistant offers the day in the life of a low-level female staffer of a production company who is haunted by the presence of her Harvey Weinstein-like boss (who never actually appears in the film). However, rather than depicting the dramatics of sexual misconduct, The Assistant uses the common subtleties and nuances of the workplace yet maintains the same tension and heartbreak. Anchored by the remarkable, devastating performance by up-and-comer Julia Garner (Ozark), The Assistant is as important as it is well-done. 

2. Sound of Metal

Riz Ahmed gives the performance of his career as a heavy metal drummer and former addict whose sudden battle with going deaf upends his life. Sound of Metal is an incredible experience that gives a rare glimpse in the American deaf community which is enhanced by the remarkable sound design that helps the audience actually hear what the musician is going through. It’s truly one of the most rewarding films of the year. 

1. The Climb

The Climb takes the generic “man sleeps with his best friend’s fiancé” storyline and turns it on its head. In his feature debut as writer and director, Michael Angelo Covino leads as the not-so-apologetic adulterer Mike and Kyle Marvin, who co-wrote the film, is the good-hearted Kyle who struggles to whether or not to forgive his best friend’s ultimately betrayal. Not only is The Climb is quirky and hilariously written, it’s a remarkably well-made comedy with some of the year’s best cinematography. Between a strong cast, a superb screenplay, and the extremely-high production value, The Climb is at the top of the mountain of 2020′s best films.