little glimpses into their lives

the-moon-loves-the-sea  asked:

t'pura or mcspirk :)

Oh, I am so glad you asked for this one, my dear. TOS McSpirk is the ship that is nearest and dearest to my heart. I have so many feels, and so many headcanons, but I’ve always been a little intimidated of voicing them, because these three are just so damn important. Bear with me as I try my very best to do the triumvirate justice. @gracieminabox, I’m tagging you, too, solely because we’ve talked about some of this (or you’ve listened to me ramble at length, you wonderful person, you) and I am just drowning in my feels - throw me a life preserver, will ya?


Who said “I love you” first

None of them use the words.

It’s not something that needs to be spoken. 

Carrying another’s soul changes a man. Everything, everything Spock’s ever seen and known and done, Len’s right in the thick of it all. 

It’s as horrifying as it is mind-boggling. Len’s a deeply private person, and having someone else in his head, a rival, a friend, giving him a front row seat to all of his flaws and doubts and failings, well, that’s almost more than Len can bear.

Turns out, their minds are remarkably compatible. The man Len had sparred with, served with, depended on, fought against, and trusted with his very life becomes so deeply intertwined in Len’s consciousness that he can hardly separate where Leonard H. McCoy ends and S’chn T’gai Spock begins. They are one and the same, a duality housed in a single vessel, twin souls sharing a fragile human body.

Len’s shocked to find that Spock… still is, for lack of a better term. The living soul of another - katra, Spock corrects him pointedly - is just that, living. Spock is in the present; he reacts, and he thinks - boy, does he think, Len realizes - and Len very quickly has a hard time distinguishing between the thoughts that arise from his own mind, and those that are of Spock.

There’s no way to block it, either. 

 Len learns a very many things, seeing the world through Spock’s eyes. 

He learns that Jim is Spock’s t’hy’la (he’s not surprised at this, not a bit, he just hadn’t realized that “bromance” was an official Vulcan relationship with an official Vulcan name).

He learns that Vulcans feel emotions. Vulcans feel emotions very strongly, in fact. 

He learns about Spock’s past. About his childhood, about his home.

And he learns about himself.

It’s harder with Jim. Len catches the shadow of Jim’s essence through the fragile t’hy’la bond, like echoes in an empty room, but it’s dimmed, somehow, and Len can never be quite sure if the snatches of emotion and bleeding of thoughts that seem to emanate from Jim come from Jim-of-the-moment or memories of past-Jim supplied by the Spock who now lives only in Len’s head. Time seems to shift and bend, swirls of before looping over glints of today, Spock’s unfettered desire for Jim Kirk mingling and compounding with Len’s own until Len can hardly hold himself back (but he must, he must). The whole situation is enough to give him a pounding migraine that lasts for months.

Later, when Len wakes up on a stone slab with a throbbing head and a clawing emptiness in his soul, he realizes that he can still feel Spock.

Or rather, he can feel where Spock’s not

There’s a gaping hole in Len’s mind, where there should be the swirling thoughts of another. It’s a devastating, godawful feeling. Len’s known heartbreak before, countless times in countless ways, but this is different, starker, more absolute. There’s a piece of him missing, a whole other side of him gone, and Len feels as if he’s slowly breaking apart, as if everything that’s ever made him the man he is is slowly crumbling around him.

He hardly even recognizes himself.

Spock seems to be shutting him out. 

Spock, for his part, doesn’t know what to make of it. There is t’hy’la, his face so well-known and well-loved, the face that colors so many of his memories - “Your name is Jim,” - but there is the other, too. He has a bond with the other, the other whose face is so familiar and so beloved, the other who evokes such strange and bewildering emotions from his vulnerable heart. Their bond is wide open and blazing, like fire, like the sun, blinding in its brilliance. Spock’s memories are muddled and unexpected, colored by a lens that is not his, and he has a deeper understanding of the world and all that is in it than he’s ever remembered knowing before, a new, strange, human perspective. His knows a grief that is not his own, failures and triumphs and fierce pride and love, love, love, and a heartbreak, a loneliness that keens and blends with his own loneliness, thoughts that pulse and thrum and churn and break against his own thoughts.

“Remember.”

Spock snaps his barriers up with a force that very nearly sends him reeling.

It takes him time to sort it out, to tease apart the trappings of his own mind and to separate his own experiences from those of Leonard McCoy. 

“I’m gonna tell you something that I never thought I’d ever hear myself say. But it seems I’ve missed you. And I don’t know if I could stand to lose you again.”

It is only later, treading water in the tiny whale-tank on a centuries-old Earth, that Spock comes back to himself. 

“I am Spock,” he tells her. 

And he knows, then, that he is Spock, and that Jim is Jim, and that Leonard is Leonard, and that together, they are something new.

He waits for the opportune moment. 

It is a surprisingly difficult discipline, the waiting.

He manages it until the council hearing, and then, suddenly, he can resist no longer, moving to stand next to Jim and dropping his barriers just for an instant, hardly even glancing up to meet Leonard’s gaze.

He doesn’t have to - Leonard’s answering thrill of wonder and anticipation is like the rising of the sun, and its all there, magnified exponentially between them, joy, joy, joy, and love, love, love.

He finds them together that night, waiting for him in his own cabin.


Who would have the others’ picture as their phone background

There aren’t many photographs of just the three of them.

The background of Jim’s PADD is a picture of David.

The background of Len’s PADD is solid black. Spock and Len are remarkably similar in that regard (and in many others). Len, in any universe, prefers not to let anything distract him from his work, and it never occurs to Spock to personalize an object that is so clearly intended for his professional use.  

Spock, though, is the one who collects objects of sentimental value.

It is only logical to do so. Jim and Leonard are human; he will likely outlive them both by at least a century. A broken marriage bond can easily drive an otherwise healthy Vulcan into insanity, and once failed, the Kohlinar is no longer an option - Spock knows, deep in his most secret thoughts, that he would not make another attempt at purging his emotions, even if he could.

It is far, far too late for that.

So he stores away small things, a photo of the bridge crew, a scrap of napkin that Jim has scrawled on, a snapshot of Len smiling under the Georgia sun, mementos, moments, little glimpses of a life well-lived. He keeps them all carefully hidden in a tiny box - “This is my logic,” -  saving them for the day when memories are all he will have left of Leonard and Jim, these two extraordinary human men who have captured his heart so completely.

It is but a small price to pay, or so Spock tells himself.


Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror

Len scrawls their names in the traditional vanu-tanaf-kitaunin, fingers tracing the elaborate loops and curves with a muscle memory that is not his own, the mirror squeaking softly as he writes.

Spock stands at his shoulder as if to correct him, never speaking, only watching. 

At length, Len pulls back. “Well, what do you think, Spock?” he asks, and Jim can see by the glint in his eye that he’s pleased with himself. “Not too bad, for a first try.”

Spock leans over him without a word, trailing one long finger at the edge of Len’s handiwork. “A satisfactory attempt,” he murmurs, flicking deftly to adjust the curve of serif that Len had neglected. “For a human.”

“Very pretty, Bones,” Jim reaches around them both, making his own mark on the glass. 

JTK was here.

Len lifts his eyes heavenward and sighs. 


Who buys the others cheesy gifts

Jim Kirk buys the cheesy gifts.

An “I <3 NY” shirt for Spock.

Red suede cowboy boots for Len (who wears them proudly).

“World’s Best Husband” mugs for all three of them.


Who initiated the first kiss

Len and Jim have kissed several times before the initiation of their relationship. 

Len and Jim have been each others’ best friend, drinking buddy, and wing man for years. They’ve participated in more than a few wild nights - most notably that one exceptional shore leave on Argelius - and neither of them are adverse to a little inebriated physical affection.

After all, what’s a kiss between friends?

Spock and Jim, at the time of Spock’s death, were only beginning to explore their physical relationship. Spock had initiated a few superficial melds, but Jim, for the most part, remained aware of the t’hy’la bond only in passing, and Spock had only briefly introduced him to the Vulcan ozh’esta. 

Never a full, proper, human, lips on lips kiss.

Later, after the fal-tor-pan and the awful excursion to the 20th century - whales, really? - and the revelation of Jim’s council meeting - “Mr. President, I stand with my shipmates,” - Len knows it’s time.

He doesn’t need to approach Spock. For one glorious moment, Spock had dropped the barriers between them, and the bond had flared to life, singing in Len’s mind, an all-consuming joy so sudden and fierce that it had very nearly brought Len to his knees.

He manages to keep himself upright, but only just, basking in the glow of Spock’s presence against his, so long-missed, so absolutely vital. They share the moment, both an instant and an eternity, and when Spock pulls back, Len has the sensation of falling into himself. He’s left with a new understanding and a contentment like he’s never known, save for the dull ache of desire in his deep in his chest.

He finds Jim, and he lays it all on the table.

Jim’s intake of breath, after Len finally runs out of words, is sharp, harsh, and Len is afraid, for one terrible moment, that he’s misjudged things horribly.

“Oh, Bones,” Jim breathes, and then he’s kissing Len for all he’s worth, taking Len by the upper arms and pulling him onto his toes.

Jim’s lips are warm and soft and familiar and right on his, and Len realizes, suddenly, that this is only the beginning. 

It’s the most joyful thing he’s ever known.


Who kisses the others awake in the morning

Not Jim.

Otherwise, it depends on who wakes first.

Typically, this is Spock. Vulcans require less sleep than humans, so its typically Spock tracing the curve of Jim’s jaw or the edge of Leonard brow, with his lips, with his fingers, with his tongue.

Sometimes, though, it’s Len. Len is a nuzzler. Len likes to bury his face in the crook of Spock’s neck and to curl his body protectively around Jim’s. Len kisses the hollow of Jim’s throat, the soft patch of skin behind Spock’s ears, running his fingers down their chests and shoulders, paying special attention to the sensitive spots on the inside of Spock’s elbows.

Jim’s a little more passive. On the rare occasion that he’s up first, he likes to lay beside his husbands and watch them. Len, early bird though he is, is a total bear when woken unexpectedly, and it is so rare to catch Spock unawares that Jim feels as if he’s obligated to savor the moment. Spock’s face is relaxed, the tension and sharp lines fallen away, and Bones, though he’ll deny it to his dying day, snores softly and smacks his lips in his sleep. 

Jim wouldn’t wake them for the world.


Who starts tickle fights

Jim is typically the instigator of the tickle fight.

Len’s got a tiny spot just at his inner thigh that sets him giggling until he can hardly breathe, red-faced and panting, tears running down his cheeks.

Jim lives for these moments.

Len’s retribution, when he can finally manage it, is swift and brutal. Jim may be bigger and stronger, but Len is fast. He sprawls on top of Jim, long fingers extracting their revenge with all the precision and finesse of a highly skilled surgeon. 

Jim Kirk begs for mercy.

Spock watches it all impassively from the corner of the bed, the gentle thrum of satisfaction that filters through their bond the only evidence of his amusement.

Until Len exploits his superior knowledge of Vulcan physiology, that is.


Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower

Surprisingly, this is Spock.

Jim doesn’t ask if he can join Len, not that Len expects it. He pushes his way through the sliding glass door, and automatically Len shifts to accommodate him, without a word.

Jim, though, is remarkably efficient with their shared time in the shower. He hops in, does his business, and hops out, dripping little puddles all over the bathroom floor and humming softly under his breath.

Len takes his sweet time. There’s something wonderful about the thrum of real water on his bare skin, and despite the environmental control systems on board the Enterprise, the vastness of space leaves him feeling cold and hollow. A hot shower is a comfort, and he savors it.

Spock is strangely drawn to Leonard during these moments. It’s as if something in the water melts whatever subtle barriers remain between them, and Spock finds himself dumbstruck by Leonard, Leonard with his eyes closed and his face upturned, lips parted just slightly, Leonard who’s completely oblivious of Spock’s presence, just standing utterly still and letting the water fall over him like rain.

The words, May I join you, are hardly out of Spock’s mouth before Len’s breathing a harsh, “Yeah,” and Spock is shedding his cloak and climbing deftly into the shower with his bondmate.

Jim finds them a long time later. “Well, thanks for the invitation,” he manages just before Spock yanks him into the downpour, shirt and all.


Who surprises the others at work with lunch

They all eat lunch together, when they can.

It’s actually an old habit. During the five year mission, Jim would often have his lunch with Bones in the sickbay, or with Spock, when they could both leave the bridge. Occasionally, when their schedules allowed it, they’d all take their lunch breaks together in the mess hall, Bones sassing at Spock, Spock snarking at Bones, Jim indulgently running interference between them (and often subtly egging them on).

Now, years later, the pattern remains. Bones still sasses Spock, Spock still snarks Bones, Jim still looks on in besotted amusement.

Some things never change.


Who was nervous and shy on the first date

There’s not a first date, necessarily. 

After the kiss - it’s a particularly long kiss - Jim can hardly find words. 

“Bones,” he breathes, eyes wide and a little bit desperate. “Are you sure? He’s -”

“Jim,” Len takes Jim’s hand in his own. “I’m sure.”

They wait for Spock together.

Len’s certain, this time. The look Spock had given him across the council chamber had said enough.

The bond had said everything.

The door opens, and there’s a beat of silence.

It all hangs in the balance. The past, the future, literal lifetimes shared between them.

“Spock,” Jim bursts. He takes half a step forward, then stops suddenly, as if reminding himself, “Be gentle, don’t press.”

“Jim. Leonard.” Spock nods toward them, utterly serene, his dark eyes giving nothing away.

Len feels as if his heart’s about to burst.

Enough, enough.

“Oh, god, c’mere,” he chokes, throwing his arms open wide and shoving all of his love, his wonder, all of himself toward the Spock-shaped hole in his heart.

Spock moves, the barriers fall, and the bond sings.


Who kills/takes out the spiders

Spock is the best at catching the spiders. 

Len’s too busy harassing Jim. “Haven’t seen you jump so high in years,” he laughs.

“Could be poisonous,” Jim informs him primly, stepping lithely down from the dresser only after Spock has relocated the offending critter outside. “Better safe than sorry, you know, Bones.”

“I’ll remember you said that,” Len tells him pointedly, “the next time you decide to scale a goddamn cliff face with no safety gear!”

Jim does not honor this with a response.


Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk

Len is the tactile one of the three, and this is only exaggerated when he’s drunk. He worships his lovers with his hands and with his body, litany of murmured praises falling like honey from his lips.

Spock is seldom inebriated. In fact, he’s far more likely to act as a keeper to Len and Jim, silly humans with their silly love of recreational cognitive impairment. He keeps a watchful eye on the two of them, carefully concealing his indulgent amusement at their drunken antics.

Rarely, though, Spock will have a piece of Jim’s chocolate pie, or accept Len’s offer of a drink (Len never fails to offer).

Then, Spock becomes a wild thing, a Vulcan of the days of old, a physical being in the most inherent sense. Making love is an art and a science, and Spock, particularly when he loses his inhibitions, excels at it. The somatosensory cortex of a Vulcan brain is exquisitely complex, and that, coupled with the ingenuity and innate intensity of the human experience, renders Spock completely powerless to his own desires. He throws himself into his task, flooding the bond wide open and laying waste to his mates’ bodies with a fervor and ferocity that borders on primal, delighting in the heat of their skin under his.

Len, for his part, can never quite contain his thrill of anticipation when Spock’s fingers subtly brush his as he passes Spock the bottle of Saurian brandy.

Jim is the romantic. 

Jim, when he’s drunk, serenades his husbands with classical literature, and sometimes, with old-earth love songs.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help

Falling in love with you

Len joins him occasionally, when he’s had enough that the long forgotten lyrics come easily and he forgets the warble in his voice. 

Like a river flows 

Surely to the sea

Darling so it goes

Some things are meant to be

They join hands, swaying a little with the rhythm of the music and the alcohol. Jim reaches toward Spock, drawing him in, holding him close, and Spock allows it, allows his free fingers to slip into Leonard’s, allows the glow of the moment to wash over him, allows himself the simple joy of just being here, with them, together, these two humans who he loves more than life itself.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help

Falling in love with you


Link to Anna’s Masterlist here

When Fandom Fuckery Turns Into Overexposure and How to Fix It

A GRAIN OF SALT. TAKE ONE, PLEASE. These are thoughts I couldn’t put together for an Anon without the help of @hardblazesong’s IMs, and her comprehensive and incredibly written post that can be found here and is a must-read. 

I was asked earlier today (or maybe yesterday, let’s not pretend I suddenly have my shit together) about the birthday pic being a failed attempt at a fix for IG trolling. 

There is such a personal element to all of this for fans and that’s not how we’re all seen to celebrities all of the time. We may be catalogued and grouped into different factions but at the end of the day, we are all part of a dramatic, invasive and entitled burden to Sam and Cait, and dollar signs for the show and it’s network. The public is always, always, always being fed half of the truth and blatant lies, and their collective lack of awareness and blind acceptance is counted on. Celebrity camps don’t handle it well when the public doesn’t buy what they are selling, and their attempts to double down with contingencies are heavy handed and often too late.

Sam and Cait have become overexposed in this fandom. They are the favorite toy being fought over in one giant, fucked up playground and it’s not a good look for anybody, especially because they’ve failed to find consistent footing in how they react and respond to it. I’ve said in a previous post that if they’re hiding a relationship and going public is not an option, then there is little they can do to repackage that, and what they’ve resorted to for their narrative has failed. But the public hates being bombarded with anything that is painfully manufactured and shoved down their throats, which is why so many celebrities who reach DEFCON 1 from a publicity and saturation standpoint take a fucking hint and disappear. It seems counterintuitive to lay low in order to retain exposure, but it’s necessary and it works. (Anne Hathaway around Les Mis Oscar time, anyone?)

So, along that vein, what is the solution to back the lead actors away from a fandom that revolves around them to reset both their reputations and cease being complicit in the fuckmuppetry?

If I were their managers, PR person, go-to friend for advice or the barista who makes their fucking lattes, I would advise them to only use their social media as a one-way street. Promote the show, support their charities, give a little glimpse into their personal (and by that I mean singularly personal) lives. No likes. No drama. No interaction. Hit the reset button, make people pine for the good old days when they actually chatted with fans or made birthday tweets to some random fan’s best friend and let the toxicity disperse as much as it can. That also extends to their co-stars, friends, significant others. All of it needs to stop and everybody needs to be on board. No IG games. No breadcrumbs. No coyness or passive-aggressiveness, no tongue in cheek, no mysteries that require the collective efforts of the Pink Panther, Columbo, Carmen SanDiego, Benson and Stabler, and Inspector Fucking Gadget and all of his go go gadget arm reaches. NOTHING.

Will it fix every issue? No. Will it mend fences, bandage wounds and lower the middle fingers of fans who have decided to write off Sam, Cait or the two of them as a package deal? Hell to every no and a hard fuck to the maybes while we’re at it. But they absolutely cannot continue along this road and not end up rolling this whole fucking thing into the ditch more than they already have an expect to come out unscathed. 

If we’re nothing more than part of the business, then they need a smart business solution to pull themselves out of this PR disaster of a tsunami where the water level just continues to rise.

P.S. This has to do with the business side of celebrity ONLY and is not meant to sound unsympathetic or dismiss the personal nutfuckery anyone has been subject to via trolling, doxxing, threats, dickassery, etc.)

4

We haven’t gotten any asks yet, so we thought we’d try to make you more comfortable by giving you a little glimpse into our daily lives! We asked all our friends what/how they were doing. Some of them reacted a bit more hostile than others…

anonymous asked:

Omg, I'm so in love with your Thiam fanfictions!!!!!!!!!! Your characterisations of these two are so great and it seems so authentic and believable!!!!! I really, really enjoyed "as I bleed" because that seemed like such a 'them' thing and I'm currently addicted to "Airplanes". "Sweet talking" was gorgeous, I loved their snark and sass in that one. (Part1)

“Kiss with a Fist” was hilarious (but seriously that is so THEIR song) and I really adored Mason and Corey in that one as well!! “Fuck Yoda” is now officially my favorite advice ever. I loved that “Closer” started this snarky but turned out quite fluffy in the end and their conversation was amazing. (Part2)

“Mind over Matter” probably summed up what the entire Thiam fandom thought about the scene (also ‘it was very sleeping beauty’ I loved it). I really, really loved “Dreams may come”, especially the Mason/Theo ‘team up’ and Theo’s poor attempt at humor. The little glimpse of “Long live Lester” was awesome and kinda bittersweet. I’m super curious how that’s gonna turn out. (Part3)

And I really adore your headcanons (that makes me wonder about your favorite headcanon for Liam and Theo). Thank you for sharing all of this with us!!!! (Part4)

Originally posted by friendsthetvshow

THANK YOU SO MUCH OH MY GOD i’m dead. This was so lovely i am gone forever holy crap.

(Fuck Yoda is indeed great advice)

I can’t think of anything to say but thank you so much, i really appreciated your message like wow, i’m grinning like a total moron thank you so much.

As for my favourite Thaim headcanon i honestly have no idea?? umm

Liam kisses Theo first. Theo wants to, really really bad but he’s smart, he knows (or thinks he knows) that he’s done too much for Liam to ever like him like that, sure he can smell the arousal sometimes but he also knows thinking someones hot and wanting to actually act on it are totally different things.

He hates Liam for kissing him, not that he stops it but honestly. He’s spent so much time trying to keep him safe and Liam diving into a ..whatever they are head first, with him is like a slap in the face. Because sure, he knows he won’t hurt Liam but Liam should be smarter than to fall into bed with someone who manipulated him in the past because he’s been trying to teach him some self-preservation skills and it’s just not working apparently.

Theo is a virgin but far from a blushing one. Liam thinks it’s hilarious when he finds out until he realises he’s going to be Theo’s first time and then gets hilariously nervous about how when they actually have sex it should be romantic and meaningful and whatnot because he knows Theo missed a lot of firsts while living with the dread doctors and this seems important.

Theo doesn’t really give a crap when or how he loses his virginity, he doesn’t see it as a big deal. Which is a good thing because it ends up happening in the backseat of his car after they defeat the first big bad since Scott actually left for college. They’re both covered in blood and Theo’s still healing from a deep scratch the monster landed and Liam’s hair is greasy as hell and he smells vaguely of pond weed from getting tossed into one of the ponds in the preserve.

STAR GAZING!!! Theo doesn’t like enclosed spaces very much. He can deal with them but he does get stir crazy after a while so Liam will often find him parked up on the hill lying in the bed of his truck just enjoying the freedom and fresh air and Liam will join him and they’ll talk until they fall asleep beneath the stars.

LIAM CANNOT DRIVE, THEO HATES GETTING IN A CAR WITH LIAM WHEN HE’S TRYING TO LEARN

Liam’s parents love Theo and treat him like a third son (the second is Mason).

Theo loves crappy 90′s/early 00′s music and Liam mocks him for it mercilessly until Theo catches him singing along to mambo no.5 and then they jam together, singing obnoxiously loud in the car.

Corey and Mason aren’t sure whether they’re cute or annoying as hell. Theo and Mason have a beautiful bromance once Mason eventually learns to trust him. They act like they don’t but Liam and Corey will often end up listening to the two rant excitedly about some supernatural thing while on the double dates they both dragged their boyfriends too.

okay so tha was like a million instead of 1 but shh

anonymous asked:

So now that you're a hardcore shipper again, how do you explain everything that happened in LA and GA?

I can’t explain it and I’m not even going to try to because I don’t care enough. During that time I thought they were most likely with other people but it’s hard to just forget about everything we’ve seen over the last 3 years and explain it away as friendship. My opinion changes a million times a day so I’m pretty much just going with the flow right now. I don’t need them to be a couple for me to enjoy them though. All of this bullshit about who’s right and who’s wrong is ridiculous and tiresome. Who actually cares? None of it matters in the grand scheme of things. I didn’t become a fan of them to dissect their alleged relationships with other people. I became a fan of them because they’re fucking adorable and squeeing over them with my friends makes me happy. At the end of the day, no one knows the truth but Sam and Cait so why bother getting upset over it and even trying to understand it? I’m ignoring the noise and choosing to be grateful for the little glimpses we get of their lives.

6

♥ it’s time to spread your podcast palette♥ 

Hope you’re all having a wonderful July, everyone! As the heat is cranked up and our thermostats are turned down, it’s time to get comfortable indoors or on the sandy shores of a beach with a new podcast. And my picks are as welcoming as a breeze on a summer day.

Cool down with a touch of horrifying homesickness, served up with just the right amount of creeps and treats to top off your favorite brand of liquor.

Looking for something fresh to please that sudden thirst for audio storytelling? Look no further as PodCake has six more podcasts you’ll certainly love.

1. Friend of the Family

Where the narrator is a character, the two leads hate each other, fighting the supernatural is sometimes disappointingly mundane, talking to family members can be a terrible idea, and a 16-year-old girl is infinitely more exciting about stabbing a lot of things than she is about boys.

If you don’t think podcasts have enough occult hunters, than Friend of the Family would like to welcome you to their reunion. In this audio drama chock full of comebacks and tongues sharper than a wooden stake, we follow our snarky heroine as she battles ghosts, demons, and annoying commentary from narrators and vampires alike.

Friend of the Family is equal parts charming and creepy for fans of both horror and comedy. If your ghost story could use some more more giggles, get comfortable in your coffin and tune in today.

2. Radio People

Under the dome on the far side of the Moon, the people of Clovermeade carry on their strange lives in complete isolation from Earth.

In this bizarrely charming sci-fi story that is…much harder to put into words than I originally thought, we are given a glimpse into the lives of this quirky little moon colony. One word to best describe Radio People would be “alien”. It grants itself an identity unique for itself and only itself, beckoning curious listeners to their strange ads, off-the-wall humor, and alternative-electronica music.

Tune in for yourself to get a taste of this strange yet welcoming collection of distinct voices, songs, and one of a kind atmosphere you’ll find yourself immersed in within seconds.

3. Spirits: A Drunken Dive into Myths and Legends

A boozy biweekly podcast about mythology, legends, and lore. Hear fresh takes on classic myths and learn new stories from a round the world, served up over the ice by two tipsy history geeks.

If you think your LORE could use a little more lady power and a little more liquor, Spirits, is the show for you. Share a drink with our hosts as they slur their way through mystical tales and myths of varying origins.

Fun, funny, and certainly a fresh pick for fans of mythology-this drunken dive into myths and legends will have you asking for a refill.

4. Small Town Horror

A bi-weekly serialized docudrama about one man’s search for answers in his hometown, the site of his own mysterious kidnapping 18 years ago. Are the answers he seeks worth the cost of returning to the place known as Crazytown?

I already knew that Small Town Horror was bound to catch my attention from the get-go. Why it has continued to keep me intrigued is due to a narrative that reads like a thrilling horror novel helped by detailed audio editing and a suspenseful tale of mystery that slowly unfolds itself.

Step into the grim and gritty world of Crazytown and immediately find yourself locked into this macabre story bound to keep you up until the crack of down with shivers down your spine.

5. Uncanny County

Robots gone haywire. Killer clown demons. And pie. So. Much. Pie. This quirky, darkly comic, Southwestern-flavored podcast brings you a new, paranormal audio play every month. Sit back, relax, and hold on tight Because you’re about to take a quick detour….through Uncanny County.

In this episodic freak show of short stories varying from funny to frightening, Uncanny County is sure to have a little something for everyone. Be it robots, mysterious truckers, or hefty servings of blood soaked clowns and delicious pie, you’re sure to find something special with each serving.

There’s nothing uncanny about slipping this series into your feed for a bit of southern styled charm and scares.

6. Return Home

A serialized radio drama that follows the story of Johnathan Barker, who is compelled to return home to Melancholy Falls, NJ to investigate the strange things that have been going on in town and discover his purpose.

Make your return to good old quirky horror shows with Return Home. In this  mysterious little podcast, we are lulled into the rain-drenched tale of a man’s struggles when he comes face to face with the strange happenings of his hometown. 

A little freaky and a little funny with just the right amount of drama, this podcast will give you all the scares and suspense you’re after.

now, get to listening.

Can the clique just chill.

Dang.

We are lucky that Tyler and Josh are so open and sharing with us. We are lucky josh does snapchat. And they interact in twitter. We are so blessed they let us see little glimpses into their real lives and some of yall use it so horribly. We are lucky they haven’t shut us off completely. Y'all need to cool it, before we lose something super important.

Shades of the Shadow -- Prologue
Emilian Doyle
Shades of the Shadow -- Prologue

SHADES OF THE SHADOW: A PERSONA 4 MUSICAL
TRACK 1: PROLOGUE

For the members of the long-disbanded Investigation Team, the arrival of both Rise Kujikawa and Yu Narukami back in town means excitement, adventure, and fun times are drawing near. Each individual eagerly awaits the moment when Narukami will arrive by train once again as they go about their daily lives, reminiscing on what was, and dreaming of what will be. Little do they know, the quiet town of Inaba, Japan is about to be shaken violently awake once again.

Click the readmore for lyrics, more information about the musical, and for artist’s notes on the song!

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why is everyone hating on skam

So I know that there’s a lot of hate for season 4 of SKAM, that it “is not enough about Sana” etc.
I get that nobody will ever be pleased with everything a producer does, but the way I see it, many had a very clear idea in their head of what Sana’s life would look like. And these people won’t accept the fact that it has taken another path. There are some characters (especially Noora) that have a big influence on her life and of course, her story would take place in this season more actively than e.g. Even’s story. Because that didn’t have a big impact on her life, but more likely on the people around her and that’s just important to keep in mind.
I’ve even seen a lot of people hating on Sana herself because she’s not being the way some fans want her to be, aka Yousef being the number 1 priority in her life. Not everyone’s life is just about their crush, she had some other serious stuff going on and the way I see it, you cannot hate or judge her on mistakes she has made. That’s not who she is, it’s just something she’s done. All the main character have made mistakes and in the end, all of them were more educated and have developed. Sana as well.

And yes, I think it’s sad that SKAM will be over soon and I would’ve loved to see Vilde having her own season (or Jonas, or Even, actually all the characters) but it will be over and we should be thankful for 4 wonderful seasons! It is sad that it’s ending but honestly, I love to see the clips from another POV, even if we just get a little glimpse of what their lives look like.

Fresh Meat Friday

Bodyparts by @death–stranded.  1k.  Author’s summary: “Cuba. They share beds and body parts.”

This fic reads as little glimpses into Hannibal and Will’s lives after the cliff.  It creates a quiet, intimate atmosphere that’s wonderful to read, and it carries them from the night of their fall to their settling in Cuba, as well as their settling with each other.

They drink the night they move in; red wine. They sit in the living room with the doors to the veranda open. Outside it is warm and in the distance they hear music and locals and tourists laughing and shouting. They sit on sofas opposite one another. At some point Will’s bare feet end up on Hannibal’s chair.

“Bedelia said you were in love with me,” Will says. He has been waiting to say it for so long. He hadn’t known he would say it tonight. He feels as though Hannibal’s soft gaze reached into his mouth and pulled his tongue forth from his throat, spilling the words across their laps.

Hannibal says nothing for a long moment.

Will fights the urge to get to his feet, reach forwards, force Hannibal’s jaw down, make him speak.

Eventually he says, “I am.”

Now Will does not know what to say.

Do you think, because of Rebirth, people start getting little flashes of memories? Brief glimpses of a life they don’t remember living?

Batman remembers, in the back of his mind, the phrase “nobody dies tonight”, but has no idea his adopted daughter once said it.

Arsenal sees a little girl in his dreams, but isn’t quite sure where he saw her, or why he dreams of being a father so often.

Green Arrow gets flashes every so often of another life. One where he has a son, or he’s taking his daughter to see a doctor. But he doesn’t have children? Why is he seeing these things?

Renee Montoya looks in the mirror every morning, and nearly has a heart attack when she sees her reflection has no face. It happens so often, she rarely notices anymore.

Anissa Pierce goes to a bar one night, and has a nagging feeling that she knows the bouncer, a giant woman with hair like a flame.

Episode 12!  THE REMATCH

I distinctly remember that Saionji got a free return bout after Utena waxed the floor with him, so surely she’s gonna get one too, and now she’s wise to Touga’s tricks, so it’s gonna be a slam dunk, and…

Oh.  Aw, jeez.

The former champ is gonna be off TV for a good long while, it looks like. Nagging injuries.  Let’s see what Touga’s up to, then-

Wait, no, here she comes.

Well, that’s depressing.

The Academy is in fact completely smitten with Utena’s rebranding.  This new symbol is much easier to read, and what it says is “yowza,” but only momentarily.  She has become consumable, all the edges taken off – so, duly, it consumes her, and then wanders off, looking for the next thing.

Anthy arrives to twist the knife a little.

That is a face that says “remember when you almost made out with Touga right in front of me like I was some kind of potted plant?”

Up to the balcony we go.   There aren’t any metaphors up here today – Miki is actually taking the minutes, Juri is barely bothering with the usual repartee. There are a lot of close-ups of Chu Chu eating snacks.

This episode does an admirable job of mimicking the shell-shocked affectlessness of its heroine.  Nothing happens. Then, nothing continues to happen. Being a normal girl in a normal world means not getting whatever it is you wanted.   Time drifts, and you are moved around the board like a chess piece. The animation budget has been slashed again pending the outcome of the evening’s swordfight.  Everything is wet cardboard and dry toast.

Touga arrives to make out with Utena in front of Wakaba as if she was some kind of potted plant. This is normal.  A popular boy asks you out, and you go out.  The social contract is forged of these moments, each unsatisfying fumble in the back of his dad’s Lexus another link in the chain of human civilization.

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I love the idea of Sherlock and Molly’s phones being full of photos and videos of their kids. Imagine the cute little glimpses into their lives they’d have tucked away.


The clip opens with a little girl in a baby bouncer, babbling along to a song on tv.

“You’re so good at singing Imogen. You’re very good at that!”

Imogen starts bouncing and squealing, smiling a wide toothy grin at the person behind the camera.

“You are! You’re so good at that!”

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Review Retrospective of Twin Peaks Pilot “Northwest Passage”

To lead up to the premiere of the new Twin Peaks revival on Showtime next Spring, I will be re-watching the saga one chapter at a time. This is the first entry in the initial wave of reviews/retrospectives, wherein I will review each episode in chronological order. I will discuss thoughts and comments on the craft and content of each episode; a very new-fan friendly approach that avoids discussing spoilers from future chapters and focuses on appreciating the work itself for its sum and its parts. Don’t expect any dogmatic grades/ratings/rankings here. That isn’t my style.

Hopefully these reviews will be entertaining at least and insightful at most. Thanks for checking it out, the review/retrospective is under the cut! 

(It’s a long one, but then, of course, they all will be.)

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Top Five things I want fixed about the Sisters of Battle

1. Inclusion of women of color and queer women.

I shouldn’t have to explain why this is my number one thing I want to see changed, but the fact that there is only one official piece of artwork(thus far that I’ve found) that features a woman of color is at best worrying. Also the fact that there has been no mention of any sort of queer women in the 40k universe outside of the Ciaphas Cain novels is also weird as all hell. Even then the depiction there uncannily reminds me of that whole don’t ask, don’t tell idea, that as long as no one notices a queer relationship than it doesn’t matter or count. So yeah, better representation of the wide variety of women that exist is the number one thing I want to see changed about the Sisters of Battle.

2. Show the Sisters of Battle as three dimensional and intelligent

Again this should not be super controversial, but apparently it is. I get that for a lot of nerd culture religion is often seen as inherently anti-intellectual, but the depiction of the Sisters of Battle is just hair-pullingly frustrating. The big example of this for me is again the Ciaphas Cain Novels, where they are depicted as zealous to the point of stupidity, with one notable exception. Contrast that with the Sisters of Battle in their own novel series, it’s rather jarring to say the least. I kinda wish there was a good explanation given rather than what currently feels like a sweaty nerd in a fedora going, “women, amiright?”. I mentioned the Age of Apostasy several times in these sorts of posts and I’ve already mentioned the fix I would implement, but as it is currently, the story just doesn’t make sense. 

If it were me, what I’d do instead is have the Sisters of Battle be Foucault-ian in their depiction. For the uninitiated, Michel Foucault was one of the big postmodern thinkers and his understanding/critique of the enlightenment was that a lot of the society reshaping ideas weren’t created from the notion of humans as rational agents, but rather the application of prison strategies to the broader population. This could be a brilliant way of talking both about our current problems with the surveillance state, while also making the Sisters of Battle suitably grimdark for those who thrive on that sort of thing. This could also work beautifully with point number one as it would create a scenario that is different from our m2 existence, in that there would be women of all sorts in all kinds of roles, while at the same time being very understandable in that everything is observed, detailed, and recorded.

3. Show the Sisters of Battle dealing with misunderstandings and the broader culture of the Imperium

Okay this is less about the Sisters of Battle then it is about the 40k universe as a whole. There’s not a lot of stuff unrelated to fighting that we the viewer/reader know about the 40k universe. Especially for me as someone who studies political science, that’s kinda a glaring oversight. I know kind of the formal structure of the imperium and what little glimpses we get of the non-military lives of the 40k universe it seems like on terra and at the imperial level there is no gender discrimination and men and women are regarded as equals(setting aside the fact that it’s the high lords of terra but whatever), though at the planetary level planets can be either patriarchal, matriarchal, or somewhere in the middle.  

4. Have the Sisters of Battle resolve things through peaceful means

Seriously they have the Orders Dialogus and the Orders Famulous. I know there are some people who feel that stories about negotiation can’t be as exciting as those about fighting, but I disagree and I think the “audiodrama” (it’s the length of a short story text wise but it’s still 90 minutes of talking) Red and Black kinda bolsters my point. The story is at it’s most engaging when the characters are grappling with the complicated legal, moral, and social issues. It becomes kinda tedious when it’s just about the shooting.

5. Stop Using the Sisters of Battle as a powered armour speed bump.

This problem has been raked over the coals so many times I’m starting to worry that I’m boring people. Bloodtide in the 5th edition Grey Knights codex was heresy at best. I have to admit, the retcon on display in the 6th edition codex of the Sisters of Battle was one of the fast 180 degree turns I’ve seen a writer pull, and I study American Politics. Sanctuary 101 didn’t add a whole lot to either faction(Necrons or the Sisters of Battle), in particular since Hammer and Anvil filled in the blanks and now all we know from that is that the Sisters of Battle can be overwhelmed through sheer numbers, like say every other faction.

Now to be fair, I’ve heard that GW is working on plastic/resin Sisters of Battle, which could mean new models and a greater degree of backstory. I have my doubts, in part because a supposed revival of the Sisters of Battle has been just around the corner for a while now, but I try to stay positive. 

All the Gin Joints

Happy AU Week everyone! I think I got this done in time for Day Two: Butterfly Affect.


Caroline liked bars.

When she’d been turned a century ago, the best a poor unmarried widow could hope to do on her own involved being flat on her back. At seventeen, she’d commanded quite the price, with her blond curls and blue eyes. Then one of her customers had gotten greedy and she’d woken with an appetite that had little to do with sex and everything to do with blood. Freedom tasted like metallic wine on her tongue and as a vampire, she’d thrived.

But she’d never quite lost her pleasure in being near people.

So at night, she worked as a barkeep. She liked to bounce from bar to bar, and over the years, perfected several languages exchanging stories with drunks. Caroline liked the little glimpses into human lives, the reminders that eternity only stretched out endlessly if you let it, and she enjoyed coaxing laughter from those who needed it. If occasionally, she ended up eating a sleazebag or two, well everyone had their vices.

She rarely stayed at one bar for more than a few months, and only stayed in a city until her feet knew them. Then she walked away as easily as she arrived, thirsty for the secrets the world had to tell her. She knew dozens of languages proficiently, spoke a few smattering he of a dozen more. As the years ticked on, there were faces here and there that she knew, even the occasional friend she’d send post cards too.

But those were rarer, as the years carried on. In all her three centuries, Caroline had never really found herself looking for a familiar face in the crowd. But as she deftly poured a drink, eyes scanning the milling patrons in their modern clothes and childish enthusiasm, she found herself wondering if maybe it was time to start putting down roots.

“When Marcel mentioned a bit of blonde trouble, I wasn’t expecting you,” a familiar, clipped voice cut into her into her musings. “Hello, Caroline.”

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