smartest man on earth

OHSHC: a summary
  • haruhi: the best written female protagonist in any reverse harem anime ever. literally perfect fight me
  • tamaki: NOTICE ME KOUHAI
  • kyouya: *is casually the richest and possibly smartest man on earth*
  • honey: ヾ(*´∀`*) C A K E S
  • mori:
  • renge: *ascends from literally nowhere*

anonymous asked:

Fun facts: in-show, they've said Lena is more intelligent than Lex (the smartest man on Earth) because she's both smart and more focused. And in-comics, Kara is more powerful than Superman (Crisis on Infinite Earths, she went one-on-one with the single most powerful DC villain ever and if she hadn't been distracted, she'd most likely have won. It still quickly ran away after. It took Supermen from two universes to beat it in the end; she did it by herself). That's what I call a team.

what a power couple <3

Anchor (closed)

Rick was the epitome of intelligence, but even the smartest man on Earth could not resist stupid desires.

He didn’t know how long he’d been with his Morty, but it had been more than a year by far. It was incredible how the secret was still under the radar, unknown by any other person or family member. Rick was incredibly guilty, but incredibly happy, too.

Of course, he’d waited until the boy had finished puberty, not one for interfering with such a thing. He didn’t want to pull Morty onto something that his body wanted, but his mind didn’t.

Luckily, the rest of the family was out and Rick laid in his bed with Morty cuddled to his side. It was one of his favourite things to do, besides sex, of course.

“I love you baby.”


Newt x reader: I would stand in the dark for you

First fic in a long time so that’s why it’s really short. Requests are open for Fantastic Beasts. In this one reader is suffering through a loss and is barreling depression and Newt doesn’t know what to do other than to be there and support her. I have manic depression and have recently been in this state myself. Sometimes all we need is someone to tell us that they are there for us and hold our hand. Hopefully you’ll enjoy.
Warning: depression. Idk that can be too personal for some people
This was inspired by Natasha Pierre and the great comet of 1812 and the two songs “Sonya alone” and the dialogue from “Pierre and Natasha” ————————————————-

Her body dangled off the bed gently as she buried her (h/c) head into the pillow. Often she has been staring off in the distance and her sentences become shorter and shorter until she made no more sound. (Name)’s chapped hand rested on the pillow in front of her. Newt sat at the edge of the bed and gently took the smaller hand and rubbed the knuckles with his thumb. He didn’t know what to say. He never did usually around (name) but with the recent loss hanging in her head, she has gotten worse and worse. She was so strong and free willed, but he knew that the strongest carry deep secrets.

The clock in the kitchen ticked away seconds marking the third day (name) has not spoken any words or responded to anyone. Newt slowly makes his way to the kitchen as he fills a glass with water. He goes back in the room to see (name) staring out the window with small tears rolling down her cheek. Newt rushes to her side and wraps a blanket around her shivering arms. Newt wiped away her tears.
“It wasn’t your fault. You have to know that”.
(Name) shook her head and looked down at the blanket around her.
“You need to drink” Newt pressed the glass to her lips and tilted it back. He looked down to give her privacy then met his eyes with (name)’s (e/c) ones.
“Why are you doing this?” (Name) chocked out for the first time in days. Newt put down the glass and thought very clear about what he wanted to say.
“I’m not trying to fix you or make you better by force” Newt paused. He made sure he was very careful with what he wanted to say. “I know you are capable of anything. I..I know you just might run away. I know you could throw yourself over. But I won’t let you. And I remember your sisters and I’ll always remember all of your kindness. And if I never sleep again. I’d still always be by your side. I want to help. Or at least make things easier. I would stand in the dark for you or even right out side your door. I will protect your name and your heart. Because I miss my friend. ” Newt paused before continuing.
“And if I were.. If I were not myself, but the smartest, brightest, best man on earth, I would rewrite time it’s self and the universe and re arrange the stars just so I could see you smile again. We would travel the world and write the most fantastic stories and you’d be in every single page. I’d make time stop and freeze us in the most wonderful moment. And I would ask you for your hand… And for your love.”
Newt became confused and flustered. He didn’t speak anymore. (Name) began to weep tears of joy and tears of thanks. She slowly began to smile and wrap her arms around Newt.
He spoke again, “I’m so sorry this all happened. I just wish I could make it better.” Newt began to rub her back and (name) finally was able to get out the last of her crys into his chest before falling asleep for the first time in days.

031. 5SOS Preferences: Curiousity

I love the suggestions you guys send in and I have so much muse for them, but sometimes when I’m writing, it’s just not sounding right. When that happens, I just write and see what comes out. That’s what happened here. Hope you like it. Adding it to the Nieces stories.

Other stories with these girls are here: Nieces, Nieces Tweet,  Daughters, Ready Set Don’t Go


“Daddy?” Breaking the silence on the stage’s edge, Emmeline asked her father while still staring straight off into the empty arena from between his legs. Both their legs dangled over the verge, Michael’s large limbs on either side of her tiny thighs (protected by the comfortable cotton of her bright purple sweatpants). He had half a sandwich in one hand, chewing on the buttery taste, while Emmeline was working on the other, small nibble marks all along the slices of white bread.

“Mhm?” With food in his mouth, he mumbled, using his free hand to squeeze at her round bun that sat on top of her head like a perfectly round apple.

Moments like this were bliss to Michael. He used to have to be buzzed out in front of a television on a king-sized hotel mattress or smoking a blunt in a room of strange desperate girls who wanted to taste every inch of him to achieve this sense of euphoria, but since Emmeline had come into his life, Michael’s life had swerved sharply onto a different road. He worked much harder these days, a desire to be proud of everything he created, but the sassy toddler was never far from his mind. He woke up every day and let her fill his thoughts whether it was with the way she sleepily smiled when he popped in to say good morning or how she tried to jumping on his bed without falling over and over when she woke up before him. Michael would think about how she protruded her belly and held the sides when someone tickled her or she found something particularly funny, he would fondly recall the questions she asked about the simplest of things like why cows ‘mooed’, where did the streets all go to, or why did Uncle Luke eat so much. When on tour, Michael worried about missing important moments, even just the opportunity to answer all her questions, since he was always in some radio station booth, arena, or making an appearance at some tourist attraction while Emmeline was in the hotel room with her mother or pitter-pattering around the downtown of whichever city they were in.

So while sharing a small sandwich at noon with his little girl probably sounded casual to every other parent around, it was the highlight of Michael’s day.

“Do you have a pee-niss?”

He nearly choked on the soggy bread and shaven turkey in his mouth, eyes bursting open at the sound of the most innocent mouth asking him something he wasn’t at all prepared for. Michael didn’t know whether to laugh or fume, but the way Luke was howling into his hands beside him, Michael had to snicker. There was something abundantly cute about the little girl who thought of Hello Kitty as a deity attempting to say ‘penis’. He considered his wife for a moment and tried to think of what she would say, but ultimately, Michael decided to just be honest. He didn’t want to lie to her and completely warp her mind about genitals to the point where she had an unhealthy approach to them in her older years.

“Yes, I do.” Nodding as he finished laughing, shaking his head in Luke’s direction as the two men exchanged humored, but conflicted glances.

“What is it?” Finally, she looked up at him with her bug eyes wide and asked while flinging her sandwich around as if it couldn’t fall apart all over her and her father and the stadium floor below. Her eyes were as innocent as she truly didn’t know. The word as foreign to her as ‘impetuous’ or ‘solipsistic’. Emmeline truly just was a curious mind.

Again, Luke was trying to suppress his amusement as he leaned back. He wasn’t a father and, sometimes, watching his friends with their children, he felt a pang of jealousy and urge to create life with the next girl to catch his attention for longer than twenty minutes, but in moments like this, he didn’t envy them at all. He watched Michael rub at the back of his neck with his empty hand, the last bite of his turkey sandwich squished between a thumb and finger as his eyes rolled back. Luke had half a mind to chime in, but bit his tongue. This wasn’t his place. It wasn’t his polka dot clad daughter looking up at him as if he was the smartest man on Earth.

“Emmy, why are you asking this?” In order to buy himself some time, Michael replied to her with a question all his own. His eyes stirred down into hers, their owl shaped pupils matching completely. She really was a strange concoction of him and her mother, all their best features and Michael’s yawn rolled into one petite person. She seemed too young to be asking him questions like this and he was sure that none of the TV shows she watched touched on the topic of genitals unless Hello Kitty and Friends had taken a hard left since tour began and he could no longer watch every episode with her.

“Edwin said you have a pee-niss and that I don’t. He has one too, he said.” Nodding her head along with every other word, Emmeline tried to reiterate what she had gathered from her playdate earlier that day with Harry Styles’s boy. The mophead that belonged to the former One Direction singer was only two years older than Emmeline and they had become good friends through often being around one another. Michael’s daughter had just been an infant when Harry and his wife were in the midst of divorce, but Edwin had spent a lot of time at Michael’s house around that stressful time and became absolutely fascinated with the baby girl. They were good friends, always running around play structures together pretending the ground was made of quicksand, but Michael knew that eventually their separate genders would pose a couple hiccups in the relationships. He just hadn’t thought the first one would happen so soon. “What is it?” Again, she asked, her lips latching over her sandwich that was becoming squishy and broken in her hand.

“Well, Edwin is right…” Michael nodded, assuming that the little boy had left his anatomic spiel at just that. “You know how we talk about keeping our clothes on and being nice to our bodies…” He was trying to think of how he could explain a penis to his daughter without sounding completely phallic. It had been ages since he explained one without discussing sex with his wife or masturbating into his own limp hand. There had been one day, months ago, where Emmeline insisted on dressing herself and had come downstairs without underwear on, but it wasn’t until Michael’s mum picked up the little girl that anyone noticed. He remembered her being tucked into a corner after, learning a lesson about the importance of covering up. Michael tried his best to remember what his wife had told Emmy, but he was drawing a complete blank.

Beside him, Luke was resting his elbow on his knee, holding up his chin with curled fingers and watching Michael struggle with keen interest. He knew that lunch was going to be good, but he hadn’t anticipated a show too.

Emmeline nodded, looking ahead again as she licked crumbs and mustard off of her puckered lips. They were going to grow to be full and model-like, just like her father’s, everyone could tell.

“Well, that’s what boys have. Boys have penises and girls don’t.”

“I don’t have a one?” Sounding gravely concerned about the facts she was gathering, Emmeline whipped her head around and asked Michael with a terrified gaze. The look was enough to force a snort out of Luke’s nose. He couldn’t wait until later in the day where he could find an appropriate moment to quote, ‘I don’t have a one’ to someone.

“I’m afraid not, Emme.” He pat her head and sighed, wishing for the conversation to die out the way the one had where she was asking him how come fish couldn’t fly, but some birds could swim. There were certain things about being a parent that he could have never anticipated. “Eat your sandwich, okay?” He curled his finally empty hand around hers and lifted it back to her lips, urging her to fill her mouth with something other than uncomfortable questions.

“What do I have?” She asked as soon as she bit down on the bread, her mumbles muffled.

“You have….” Michael groaned as he tried to decide what to tell her, his eyes shifting from her bouncy bun to Luke’s shaking head. He could have taken the adult approach and call it what it was: a vagina. However, Michael simply hated that word. He didn’t want Emmeline running around backstage shouting ‘vagina’ at the top of her lungs either. “You have a lady….” He began, scrunching up his nose as he thought out loud. “slice. Lady slice.” He decided only to have Luke nearly spit out his final bite of his own sandwich from the deli all over the place.

“Lady slice!?” Wildly, Luke shouted back and held his stomach as his eyes began to water from the pure entertainment he was unwillingly subjected to.

Michael just reached out his hand to shoot his friend the finger while his other hand rubbed at his daughter’s back as she finally focused on eating over asking questions. Michael felt like he could feel his hair graying though just through the short conversation. He worried that he hadn’t handled it well at all. He would be calling his mother later to ask her what he should have done and if he could add anything in.

“Hey Emmylou, when did you get here?” Calum wandered over, back for rehearsals after a lunch date with the girl he had been seeing for years. He grabbed a hold of the ankles of his favorite pseudo niece. He leaned in for a kiss, pushing out his lips as he loved how she usually pushed her whole face up against his and made a ‘smack’ noise, her idea of what kissing was.

“I have a lady slice and you have pee-niss.” Showing off the chewed up bite of sandwich in her mouth, Emmy kicked out her legs and announced to her Uncle Calum instead, forcing him to stand up straight and give Michael his trademark ‘What the fuck, man?’ look.

“Don’t ask.” Barely moving his lips, Michael grumbled.

“No, ask. Please, ask.” Luke howled to the side, jumping down from the stage with his cheeks burning rouge from how funny lunch had been for him.


Molly had been a very simple baby. She barely cried when they brought her home, bundled up tightly in a navy car seat, from the hospital. Ashton had prepared himself for sleepless nights. He was almost looking forward to groggily stepping out of bed to cradle his firstborn against his chest and soothe her cries with a whispered lullaby. She so rarely required attention and pampering though. Molly Irwin was as easy as a paint by numbers activity book. She squawked and gurgled, but rarely kicked up much fuss at all.

So when he heard a sudden roar of tears coming from the dressing room, just on the other side of the bathroom door as he was trimming his facial hair, Ashton didn’t actually recognize it as the sound of Molly’s tears. He assumed that someone else’s child was upset, maybe Calum’s newborn Daphne, or one of the crew guy’s toddlers. He finished what he was doing with a splash of John Varvatos aftershave, a gift from their long term makeup artist, and stepped out slowly. The crying had toned down just a few minutes before, barely seeming like hushed muffles now.  Ashton was watching himself in the bathroom mirror as he switched off the lights. He saw his four year old, all limbs and big glasses, in the middle of the couch looking down at her puzzle pieces on the coffee table. She was as sad as he had ever seen her before, more upset than she looked when he told her that they couldn’t actually move to Jupiter and that she couldn’t come with him and her Uncles to Asia, she had to stay behind in Australia with her mother.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He rushed to her knees like a bat out of Hell, dropping to the carpet and staring up at her with his eyes full of concern. Ashton couldn’t believe that he hadn’t come out sooner, assuming that his child could never be the one so upset. “Molly?” His mind instantly went to the worst place possible. Someone had died. It seemed a little ridiculous considering he would have probably been made aware before her, but Ashton was always slightly dramatic. His theatrics had only grown since becoming a parent.

“Nobody will play with me because I have a gyna!” Molly quickly picked up her head to stare at her father, eyes gridlocked. She pushed back her glasses and wiped at her runny nose, cheeks appearing sunburnt from the tearstains.

Molly was advanced for a child her age. Ashton and his wife had her room stocked with books just about covering every subject, they allowed her mind to always explore and answered all her questions as honestly as they would if they came from the mind and mouth of an adult. She knew what private parts were and their purpose, his wife had already had a miniature discussion with her about that, so Ashton was perplexed as to why she seemed so upset now. It must have been more about the rejection of her friends than it was her actual body part.

“What happened?” He asked for all the facts so he could properly execute the rest of this conversation with his little lady.

“They all wanted to go play tag in the stadium,” A favorite past time of all the crew men and the children that sometimes came to visit as the arenas were akin to wide open playpens for them all before the show. “And I went to come and they said I couldn’t come cause I have a gyna.”

“You know it’s not called that, Molly.” Ashton always saw a teaching moment even when it was faint. His daughter licked her lips, drying them out, and nodded. She knew that, but all the boys she usually made puzzles or ran around backstage with had been calling it that. “Molly, sometimes boys just want to play with other boys.” He explained, shrugging his shoulder as if it was a simple fact of life. “They will want to play with you too, but maybe not every game…” He knew that one day boys would want to play with Molly simply because she did have a vagina and he hoped that she would much prefer this phase.

“Are you not going to want to play with me?” After all, her father was a boy quite simply. Molly’s lip quivered as she asked the question as if it was more important than anything else she had ever wondered out loud. Her father was her favorite person to play with. He could do all the animal noises when she had her farmland figurines out or any picture book before bed, he would do just about anything to make her laugh, and he made the best peanut butter and apple plate even if it was the simplest bedtime snack known to man. At her very tender age, Molly simply worshipped the ground her father daned to walk on. She didn’t want him to not like her anymore just because she was a girl and he was not. “I can’t help that I have a ‘gina.”

As Molly was muttering, feeling sorry for herself, Calum stepped right into the room, his newborn’s spit rag over his shoulder. He stopped as soon as he heard Molly, his feet right over the threshold. He stared at Ashton and wondered if he should back out. It looked like a private father-daughter moment, but since he had just become a father himself, Calum had taken to studying Ashton with his little girl, soaking up all the knowledge he could. He spoke openly about what an amazing parent he thought his friend had turned out to be. Calum always said that if he could do half the job that Ashton had with Molly then he would be satisfied.

“Molly, don’t be silly. You’re my favorite person, my sweetest.” Happily, Ashton reminded her, kissing her nose before adjusting her glasses over the bridge of them. They were sized to her face properly, but as Molly seemed to perpetually be looking down curiously over something or another, they naturally always slid towards the end of her gumdrop snout. “We will always play.” He reminded her softly before sitting down on his butt and turning to face the round coffee table behind him. “I’ve got a little time, should we work on this?” It was only one hundred pieces, Ashton was sure they could knock it out.

Slowly, Molly stepped off of the couch cushions and joined her father on the floor. She didn’t sit teepee style beside him though. Looking for comfort, she sat right down in the center of his lap, leaning the back of her head into his chest while picking up two blue pieces and examining them.

“So, this is what I have to look forward to?” Calum raised his thick brows as he entered the room further, stopping in front of the coffee table and curling his fingers in a wave to say ‘hello’ to the cutest Irwin.

“And a lot more.” Shaking his head, Ashton nodded with a sigh. “It’s all good though. All of it.” He ran a hand over Molly’s hair, flattening it to her head, and then kissing her middle part.


He left them alone for a total of six minutes and twenty four seconds. His phone flashed the full duration of his cell phone conversation with his publicist on the screen as he pushed his back off the cold pigeon blue hallway wall and headed back into the open concept living room of the Santa Monica home the band was renting while they worked on their upcoming album together.

Luke’s eyes were still on his scree, the firm words of his publicist ringing in his mind like poorly written lyrics to a popular song on the radio. It wasn’t until he heard his three year old giggle and ‘ew’ out loud that he looked up. He was expecting just to see her on the floor, on top of the Car Carpet City she was playing on before with Iden Clifford, so Luke was already donning his every day smile, the one that he always cast over Penelope, but his face twisted into repulsion when he set his baby blues on what had begun when he left the room.

“Yours is weird!” Penelope pointed with one hand at Iden’s revealed self, his Gymboree khakis down to his ankles as he was listing up his shirt with both hands, standing across from her with such a proud look on his face that he was the spitting image of his father.

Luke was mortified at what was going on under his supervision. He rushed over to Penelope and dropped to his knees right beside her, locking his teeth together angrily as he started to aggressively pull up her Cookie Monster underwear and elastic waistband jeans. Penny giggled at how cross her father looked though. Her mind didn’t register what was wrong. She was just playing with her friend while Emmeline was out having a day alone with her mum, Molly was back home in school, and her own baby brother was sleeping.

“Penelope, we keep our clothes on.” Overannunciating to make his point, Luke looked up at her and shot his eyes like daggers into her sun kissed face, focusing for a second to make sure that she heard him clearly. “Michael!” Luke dropped his jaw and shouted, his voice ringing through the main floor until the sound of feet shuffling over hardwood slowly was heard.

“What’s up?” Michael had his own phone in one hand, approaching the situation from the other entrance. He frowned at his son’s bare ass, but it was nothing new to him. He had become acquainted with it since Iden’s autumn birth years ago and now that Iden was two and a half, he was always dropping trou and running around like a tiny Tarzan.

“Does March have what Iden has?” Luke was standing up as Penelope wondered aloud, tilting her head from one shoulder to the other and still observing the tiny boy’s junk from across the room.

Luke sighed, steam rising from his nostrils, as he gripped his daughter’s shoulders and turned her around while shooting his death stare at Michael.

“Mike, hose down your son and pull his pants up.” He directed while walking his giggling daughter out of the room and taking her out the wrap around deck that overlooked a large endless plot of dewy green grass and oversized pool shaped like an uppercase ‘S’. “Peny,” Luke grunted while picking her up, holding her to his side as he walked over to a lounge chair where they could sit somewhat protected from the sun, but still enjoy its warmth and color. He set her down right beside her on the brown cushion and held his hand over his forehead, using it as a flesh tone visor. “You don’t show people your body like that, okay?” He knew he should have informed his wife on what he walked in on, asked her opinion, but Luke was too affected by the scenario to wait. He wanted to nip it in the bud while it was still fresh. “You and Iden and everybody else have private parts and though they’re different,” He tried to speak slow, wanting to make sure she understood him. Luke brought the tip of his index finger to her chin, bringing her attention over and up to him. “They’re yours and they’re private.”

“Why does his look like that?” Scrunching up her face because of the sun and because of what she had just seen, Penelope asked honestly.

“That’s just the luck of the draw, I guess…” Luke looked up to the sky as if the clouds possessed the right answer. He didn’t really want to get into the gory details of the male reproductive organs with her at the moment. If he was being truthful, Luke couldn’t ever foresee a time where he would want to discuss that with his little angel. “Look, Penelope, I am always going to protect you, you know that?” Again, he took her chin with a single digit and slid it over to pay attention to him and not the other things in their American yard. “But some people out there are going to try and do mean things, so you have to keep your pants up and keep private things private, okay?” Luke’s stomach was knotted at the brief idea of someone violating his baby. He closed his eyes and grimaced, swallowing hard.

“So Mommy has what I have?” She didn’t quite understand what her father was getting at, but she had questions and ideas all of her own.

“Yes.” Luke nodded, happier to think of his wife’s body than the current thoughts running rapid in his mind, making him consider buying a shotgun or just building a tower to pluck Penelope in until her twenty fifth birthday.

“And you and March have what Iden has?”

“Kind of.” Luke was too proud of what he had going on between his legs to compare it to that of something a two and a half year old who still put Hot Wheels in mouth had. “Boys and girls are different, but unless that boy is making six figures and calls you a princess, you don’t take your pants off, do you hear me?”

“Yes.” Penelope rolled her head back and clutched her eyes shut, wishing her father had brought out her sunnies or even his large aviators for her to don. She slowly slid off the side of the lounge chair, standing up to go and get soccer ball she could see by the patio table.

Reaching out, Luke stopped her by the wrist and pulled her back, gently holding both her hands in his and keeping her right in front of him, “Penny, do you hear me?” He asked again, wanting her to convince him that what he said was as indented in her brain like how to call for 911 if she was ever separated from him.

“Yes. I won’t show anyone my private!” She screamed out, eager to go and get the ball and kick it around.

Luke nodded, wiping his face from the sound she had projected, and letting her run away.

She was just a toddler. Yesterday, he swore she was still cooing in his arms as he gently made up lullabies into three in the morning. He was nervous that when he woke up tomorrow, she would be a teenager rolling her eyes at every word he said and bouncing around in hot pants.


Holding her hand in his, Calum tried to walk briskly through the lobby of the concert hall they were playing in. Fans were already waiting eagerly inside, calling at him, but for the most part, they were always mindful when he was with Daphne. She was just four and still didn’t take well to the noise that followed her father everywhere he went. While his fans ‘awhed’ at the sight of the bumbling toddler, clutching her Dad’s hand and tugging down on it as her gesture for him to swing her around like a jungle girl on a vine, they didn’t shout at him when he was with her, they didn’t scream out profanities, they just watched and waited. Some took pictures though Calum mentioned in interviews that he didn’t like that, but it had never really grown out of control. The band, crew, and fans had all learned a valuable lesson a few years ago when little Emmeline Clifford was swarmed, separated from her parents, and nearly mobbed outside of radio station in Houston, Texas.

Calum waved politely at the league of fans loyally awaiting him, acknowledging them tended to be all it took to keep them happy. His simple tight lined smile said it all, reminding them that he saw they were there and would come back down when he wasn’t with undersized Daphne Hood.

Daphne stared back at them with saucer sized eyes, bumbling around meekly. She was much smaller than every other child her size, but her eyes made up for her lack of height and weight. She was a preemie baby who never quite caught up, dark featured and impossibly shy despite the fact that her father could be louder than the propellers of a helicopter on a good day.

Calum plucked the elevator button, requesting it to come down to take them up to their suite on the nineteenth floor, and then swung Daphne around at her request, earning a small hushed laugh. Daphne yanked on his hand again, but he just picked her up instead and held her in his arms, knees to his chest as she laid both hands on his nose and honked it, making him make the same noise she thought geese did.

“Daddy?” As if she was about to yawn, Daphne called for him right in his face, rubbing hers with one hand softly.

“Yes?” Calum answered right away, taking her hand out of her eye and occupying her little fingers with a kiss from his large lips.

“Is it true I come from Mommy’s va-ji-gina?” Sweetly, as if she was telling him she loved him before bed, Daphne spoke out. Calum held a shot of laughter in his throat, completely caught off guard by her question. He heard a chorus of snickering to his left and watched as the fans released their own amusement. A number of them had their cell phones out in front of their faces and he knew this was about to become internet fodder. Daphne didn’t realize though. She had her arms linked together behind his neck and was patiently awaiting his explanation.

The elevator could not have arrived at a better time, dinging loudly as the silver door slid open and allowed him instant access. He began to nervously chuckle as he scanned the panel of buttons for the number ‘19’.

“Daddy, I asked a question.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Calum raised his out of shape brows and assured her, hitting the right round black button and sending them up on their way. He held Daphne to his chest with one hand, balancing her with support under her squishy bum. He stared off at the elevator panel while scratching at his hair with the other hand, not sure what to say. He had been there, in the room, the very second Daphne came into the world. He knew the answer, but currently, he was as tongue as he would have been if he was Daphne’s age.

“’Nelope said we all did.”

Daphne was the youngest of all the band daughters and she soaked up the words of the other girls like a sponge. If Penelope said that she came from an elephant’s trunk, she probably would have checked in with her father on that too.

“Well, we didn’t all come from your mummy…” Calum clarified as soon as they stepped off the elevator and entered the hall of their floor. Daphne wasn’t incredibly deep, she accepted things at face value, and he didn’t want her to go around thinking that her mother, his girlfriend, as the international mother that folklore might have the world believe existed. Calum nodded at the security roaming the hall, mostly standing outside of Michael’s door as he always requested it when Emmeline was on tour after what had happened. Calum took his wallet out of the back pocket of his trousers and opened up the flap for Daphne, allowing her to pick out the white plastic card key. “Thank you.” He smiled as she handed it over to him between her little fingers.

He put Daphne down on the ground as soon as he was in the room, listening for the door to lock behind him and then shoving his leather wallet back into his pocket.

“Daphne, you know how you were in mummy’s tummy once?” He bent down on his knees, bouncing with his ankles up as he searched her big eyes with his. She nodded ‘yes’ as he licked his thumb and stroked away the stain of melted butter that he hadn’t noticed earlier when they were sitting at the diner eating breakfast or the whole walk back. “Well, when you were ready to come out, you came out. That’s all Penelope was talking about.” He summed it up simply, trying to avoid a gate that led to brand new vagina-themed questions opening up.

“Okay.” She nodded again, trusting that her father was the smart one in the room.

“Do you have any other questions?” He didn’t know if he was ready for them, but he wanted to be sure.

“No. I have a tummy ache.” She squished her face into her head, her eyes clouded with pain as she pulled away from Calum and rubbed her barely there belly. “I ate too much toast.” She had barely finished two pieces along with her little bowl of fruit and scrambled eggs, but being a premature baby with a few organ problems at birth, Daphne was prone to an uneasy stomach.

Pouting, Calum stood up straight and led her to the bed, helping her up onto his side and allowing her to lay down. He had time to kill before being scheduled to go down to the local entertainment news show with the other guys, so he laid down right behind her and rubbed her back while turning on the TV. 

Fantastic Four (2015)


-No, no, no.

-Okay, I’ll try.

-We start off with a pointless prologue where Ben and Reed are kids, establishing their lifelong friendship that doesn’t matter since they will barely interact now.

-Then we get the real opening, where Dr. Storm and his daughter Sue (pointlessly adopted from Kosovo and brother to Johnny, though they never really interact or act like siblings or parent/child, so she might as well be his lab assistant) visit a science fair where Reed and Ben are trying his teleportation experiment for the first time–instead of testing it before the fair and then just doing the same thing again. The judges dismiss it as a magic trick, even though he clearly teleported something, but then the Storms recruit Reed for their ‘Baxter Foundation.’ Ben goes back home (pointlessly not to Yancy Street) after leaving Reed with a memento of their time together: a Swiss army knife. This will never come up again.

-Now that they’ve got Reed, Doc Storm needs his old protege Victor von Doom to come back and work for them. Doom previously set Storm’s place on fire, openly espouses ending the world, and has a stalkery crush on Sue Storm. Naturally, Dr. Storm trusts him implicitly.

-By the way, I swear to God, this is how they introduce Victor von Doom, ruler of Latveria.

-He’s sitting in the dark, playing Watch_Dogs and surfing the net, while listening to classical music (because he’s really smart!). Like, dude. Duuude.

-But despite his cynicism, Doom agrees to help out–for some reason. Ben is still off-screen, back at home, not doing anything. Now we see Johnny get into a street race and crash his car, with Dr. Storm picking him up from the emergency room.

-Just FYI: Johnny is angry at his dad because Dr. Storm doesn’t pay attention to him and didn’t spend time with him growing up. I know, I know, shocking, right?

-Now I know thug is a loaded term, so let me put it this way. Johnny is clearly an irresponsible punk. Fair enough? Dr. Storm says “you need to take some responsibility, otherwise I’m not giving you your car back.” So, he makes Johnny get a job at Arby’s or something, right? Nope! He gets Johnny to help engineer the quantum portal, since, you know, fixing cars totally prepares you for building interdimensional portals. This would also seem to be a good point to bring in Ben, since if Johnny can help build the damn thing, surely Reed’s best friend is also trustworthy and skilled enough to render an assist, but no, the heart and soul of the FF gets treated like an afterthought.

-Anyway, Reed and Sue flirt a little to fulfill the romance portion of the movie, and they’ve totally dutzed up her characterization as the warm and sympathetic one, since she’s yet another ‘mean pretty woman’ comic book heroine. Look, I know Black Widow’s popular, but can we have one female character who isn’t just her with a different hair color? 

-The flirting actually doesn’t come to anything, as Reed and Sue end the movie platonic friends. Yeah, Tumblr, I’m sure you love that, but they’re the First Couple of Marvel! Isn’t there a little obligation there? It’s like a Superman movie where Clark and Lois don’t get together. 

-Dr. Storm promises the group–well, the boys–that they’ll be the first ones to go through the quantum portal, despite the fact that… they’re fucking teenagers and super-scientists far too valuable to risk and such? Despite this, it’s played as a huge betrayal when the government guy* says that they’re going to get NASA to take over. Victor even goes off on a tangent about the CIA water-boarding people in the fifth dimension and gives them the finger, since why should Victor von Doom have any dignity?

-By the way, it’s never really clear who’s backing the Baxter Foundation besides a nebulous ‘the Government’. Dr. Storm apparently has free rein to give his punk kid a highly sensitive position, as well as the screaming security risk that is Victor von Doom, but then they also take orders from ‘the Government’? And later they work for the military? Or are they funded by the independently wealthy? It’s never really clear. Just, ya know, shadowy white men wearing business suits.

-And there’s a really weird ‘millennial angst’ theme here, with Dr. Storm talking about all the mistakes his generation has made and how you hip young kids have to save the world. Which is a very funny thing to get from a source material where half the characters are middle-aged.

-So Reed decides to be a fame-whore, calls up Ben to come over, and they and Johnny and Victor go through. Sue isn’t invited, because fuck you, women. I mean, women aren’t ever reckless or thrillseeking, they’re always a wet blanket responsible.

-They literally wake Ben up and say “Time to be in the movie, you’re in the comics, you’ve gotta be in the movie” and get him through security just by saying “He’s with me!” and bang, he’s in another dimension. A+++!

-I should mention that A. Michael B. Jordan is totally just playing his character from Chronicle here. B. He’s a complete asshole to Doom based on, no kidding, Victor being a foreigner, calling him ‘Adolf’ and ‘Borat’. You’d think someone whose adopted sister is from Kosovo would be a little more sensitive, but I guess Kanye is allowed to be a dingus.

-See? See how offensive that is? Why does he get away with that?

-Here’s where the team turns into the worst scientists this side of Prometheus. The plan is simply to go through, walk around a bit (on ‘Planet Zero’, which you’d think would be awe-inspiring or psychedelic, but is basically just a boring version of the Genesis Planet from Star Trek 3. Your average episode of Doctor Who has a more interesting setting than the main plot point in this big-budget movie), and plant a flag. That’s it. Instead they see this strange green energy in the distance and go “Let’s check it out!”

So they rappel down a fucking cliff…

Walk right up to this mysterious glowing energy they know absolutely nothing about

And Victor, possibly the smartest man on Earth, sticks his hand in it.

Just straight-up fingerfucks the thing! And of course it explodes, gives them all superpowers. Ben gets hit by rocks, so he becomes a rock creature. Johnny is set on fire, so he becomes a fire guy. Sue is hit by… a shockwave, so she… turns invisible. And Reed is… fuck you, Reed can stretch.

-Here’s where the movie should’ve started. They all go to Planet Zero, get their powers, Victor is presumed dead, then we cut ahead a year to VIPs being briefed on what happened. That should’ve been the first ten minutes, so we could skip all the boring stuff and skip straight to them being comfortable in their skins and having mastery over their abilities.

-Oh, but wait, despite the time-skip, they’re still training and Ben is anguished both over being a rock monster and having a kill count in the double digits. I’m not kidding, the ever-lovin’ blue-eyed Thing has killed at least forty people in this continuity! You know, for kids!

-And, fuck, he’s a cartoon character! Literally a cartoon character! But I guess if Josh Trank were adapting a Disney cartoon, he would make it so Pluto used to be a fight dog for Michael Vick. 

-That’s the chief failing of this movie. For all the talk of friendship and their being a family, the Fantastic Four really spends most of the movie hating each other and being annoyed with each other. It takes until the final scene (clearly a reshoot, and just as clearly ‘inspired’ by the last scene of Avengers: Age of Ultron) for there to be any bantering or joking around between any of them. I guess they all like each now! 

-But yeah, Reed has escaped from military custody and is in Panama–where he can shapeshift like Mystique to avoid detection, so, okay–trying to find a cure. Everyone else is pissed off at him for running off. Johnny is surprisingly eager to be used as a tool by the military-industrial complex. Seriously, he is downright jazzed to murder people for the government like his pal Ben! And Sue is a girl, so she doesn’t have much going on.

-By the way, everyone needs their super-suits to control their powers. Because fuck you, that’s why.

-Sue finds Reed, because she’s a genius for pattern recognition so long as she’s listening to some phat rhymes on her Beats headphones. They send in Ben and some Army guys to apprehend them, which they do after a ground-breaking thirty seconds of fighting. This has been, like, the only action in the movie. 

-They take Reed back and say that they can’t build a new quantum portal and fix his friends without his help. Which… is that how that works? Because he already build a working quantum portal. Can’t they just build a new one from his notes? Apparently not! He rewrites the source code–stop me if I’m getting too technical for this hard sci-fi take on the Fantastic Four–and then some astronauts go through, lickety-split.

-On Planet Zero, they find Doom, whose spacesuit has fused with his body to give him… kinda sorta a Doom look. Also, somehow he found some green hobo rags to kinda give himself a cape. I have no idea where he could have possibly gotten that, but HARD SCI-FI, YOU GUYS!

-They take Doom back to Area 57 (yeah, they’re doing the ‘it’s not Area 51 but not’ gag, just like Muppets: Back In Action), where in addition to all the other stuff that’s been cut out, that scene of Reed and Doom talking has clearly hit the editing room floor. Instead, Doom talks to one of the sinister military guys who–really hasn’t done anything that sinister or betrayed the team in any way, but nonetheless, everyone is really cynical about the government anyway. Doom joins the long list of supervillains who allow themselves to be captured as part of their master plan, yeah, in 2015, and he breaks loose with his vague, ill-defined powers of… making people’s heads explode? Stopping bullets with forcefields? It doesn’t seem like anyone has made up their mind as to what powers he has beyond “CGI!”

-Doom kills Dr. Storm, who I guess probably shouldn’t have trusted him, and reveals himself to not be an interesting, noble antagonist with a well-reasoned point of view, but just a crazy person who wants to destroy the whole world so he can be left alone on Planet Zero to, I don’t know, jack off or whatever. This might be a little affecting if we had seen any sign of characterization from him besides “wake up, sheeple!” and Sue derogatorily referring to him as Dr. Doom, but nope, he’s just a wacko.

-Doom opens a ‘chain reaction’ portal to Planet Zero which will black hole all of Earth into it–naturally, this takes the form of a big blue laser shooting into the sky and stuff getting sucked into it–and the four pursue him, with Johnny flying and the rest inside Sue’s forcefield. So… I guess you can just hop from one dimension to the other. HARD SCI-FI!

-On Planet Zero, Doom turns out to be able to control the elements of the planet–oddly, he doesn’t use his head-asplode power on anyone, though you’d think that’d be the go-to move. This would also seem to make him more a version of Ego the Living Planet than any variant on Dr. Doom, but I guess in addition to the actors, Josh Trank told the writers not to read any comics, so this is all just based on a Wikipedia page. Maybe if someone edits it fast enough, the next FF movie will be based on Galactitty and the Silver Dildo.

-This is all in, like, the last ten minutes of the movie. For about ninety percent of the story, there is no villain, and Doom shows up at the end like a complete afterthought to try to destroy the world for no reason and get into a CGI fight with the FF. Spoiler alert: it turns out the trick to defeating him is to work together. And now the FF are all on the same page and good friends, despite how they all hated each other five minutes ago.

-They make a deal with the government to be put in charge of a black-ops site–no, not the Baxter Building, this place in the middle of nowhere called Central City. And they’re not celebrities or superheroes with public identities or anything, but a black-ops group that the government is going to sponsor despite not having any control over them or seemingly getting anything out of it? But Ben growled and Johnny said “Say yes!”, so I guess that really does explain it.

-Also, Billy Elliot’s effete voice coming out of a giant rock monster with barely any modification never fails to sound ridiculous. Say what you will about Michael Chiklis, but he made some effort to come up with a gravelly, gruff ‘I’m the Thing’ sort of voice. Billy Elliot I think actually puts less effort into his accent once he’s the Thing than he did before. 

-I still can’t figure out why the Thing doesn’t have pants. Even if he’s got no penis or buttcheeks, shouldn’t he wear pants as a simple matter of dignity? Don’t you think he’d be a little sensitive to being dehumanized, or treated like some pantless monster?


George Carlin - Religion is Bullshit

anonymous asked:

I just realized something, when Clark heads back to Metropolis after going into solitude due to Senate Bombing, he is renewed and hopeful, after he saves Lois from the fall from Lex Tower. But has soon as he goes up confront Lex, Clark is about to get a soul shattering horror. Poor guy.

I think a lot of the movie, up until the end, can be summed up as “poor guy” in regards to Clark. See the thing I really loved about BvS was that I could feel the pressure of what it meant for him to be Superman. The struggle with both identities as Clark Kent the Human Man and Superman the Kryptonian. It was fascinating to watch and see him struggle with wanting to be a good person (as his parents raised him and Lois inspired him to be) and living up to the expectations of the world around. 

In a way it felt slightly - though probably unintentionally - meta as well, because for decades fans have said that Superman is unrelatable. Even Max Landis who recently wrote America Alien made a video with the opening lines, “No one gives a fuck about Superman”. I’m not knocking Landis for his video (it’s hilarious) but there is this common misconception about Superman that because he has power, he’s unrelatable. 

What could beat Superman? Who could beat Superman? Who cares! I’m not interested in seeing how Lex Luthor could beat Superman up, I’m interested in seeing how the smartest man on Earth can quietly pick apart the strongest man on Earth’s heart. Because you don’t hurt Superman with fists, you hurt his heart. But that’s a very difficult aspect to capture. 

I was recently reading Superman For All Seasons. You might know this image which comes from the book: 

Okay so Tim Sale isn’t the best artist to come out of the 90s/early 00′s, but you know what, Jeph Loeb wrote a damn good Superman book. I’d read Superman For All Seasons twenty times over before I read Grant Morrison’s All Star Superman which I hated. 

Ironically enough, Loeb’s Superman is similar to the DCEU Superman in that he’s very introspective. He doesn’t talk much, most of the dialogue of the book is through other characters: his father, Lex Luthor, Lois Lane, and Lana Lang. Clark actually speaks very little in the book and most of the narrative is through other characters eyes. And yet, there’s this wonderful quietness to his character that showcases his struggles as Clark Kent but also the idealized image of him that others have of him as Superman. 

Grant Morrison’s All Star Superman is very much one of the past (same with his Wonder Woman which I also didn’t like). Morrison’s Superman is Christopher Reeve’s Superman. As Clark Kent he’s a bumbling fool who’s pining after Lois who’s to busy idolizing the glorious Superman to realize the man right in front of her. Superman is the “real” Clark who is less of a farmboy and more of an all powerful alien figure who’s inherently smarter, and more powerful than everyone else. But he smiles and saves people so he’s “the best” Superman even though he struggles with none of it and barely even shows any sort of fear or regret over the end of his life. He’s more a mythical all holy figure than a grounded character. 

Which is why I really liked Clark in BvS. For all these outsiders pushing that he was a god like or mythical figure, Clark just wanted to help people. He had the power to do so, given to him by both sets of his parents (one thing I loved about Superman Rebirth, it acknowledged the importance of both sets of Clark’s parents) so he did it because it was the right thing to do. I know some people struggle to understand that. Why does he help people? Because he wants too. There’s no greater reason for Clark, he’s just a good person who wants to help people. It’s simple and yet so difficult for him if written right. 

That sort of narrative is why I love Paul Dani and Alex Ross’ Peace on Earth and hated Alan Moore & Curt Swan’s Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow? That ridge sort of thinking about Superman, that he is all good without any doubts or strife is boring to me. Give me a Superman who is surrounded by flames and death while he remains unharmed and wears a broken heart because of it. His goodness ripping him to shreds inside because he came to be honest and open only to have it ripped away and feel as though he failed. His symbol means hope but how can he bring hope to people if he can’t protect them when he’s right there? 

So he finds hope in others, his mother, his father, Lois, hopefully the League as the films go on. They give him hope and in turn he reflects that hope even brighter back onto them. 

Sorry Anon this got very much away from me. BvS really awakened a renewed interest in Superman for me. And since I put Tim Sale on the spot a little, I want to finish off with this - what I think - beautiful image from Superman For All Seasons: