#meg would force him to watch the documentaries about them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randofics · 6 months

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I love your 'bots reacting to you reaching where they can't posts. Would you do one for the 'cons?

Here ya go darlin' hope ya like it!

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Starscream

When you first met the con, he had been very xenophobic towards you. He wouldn't touch you, let alone go anywhere near you unless ordered by Megatron, and even then, he'd put up a fuss about it. So when he got shrapnel lodged in his turbine blades and knockout couldn't get it without invasive measures, it was up to none other than you to pry it out. He absolutely dreaded it, but he also couldn't fly without his turbine, so if you had to do it over knockout performing surgery, then so be it.

He transformed hissing in pain as the turbine blades flexed, making the shrapnel cut into them. Using a box as a step stool, you came level with the engine. You spotted the wedged metal and began to reach for it before hesitating. He could easily shred your arm. You'd seen the plane accident documentaries on a binge last year and knew well enough of the tornado force winds engines could produce. There had only been one man you'd heard of to survive being sucked into a military jets engine, and it had been through sheer luck. His vest strap snagged on the metal inside, stopping his body from being sucked further in, but his hand had been effectively shredded by the blades.

Starscream's voice broke you from your dark thoughts. "I'm not going to harm you, fleshy. As much as I'd like to, Megatron gave me direct orders not to."

That was only slightly reassuring, but you steeled yourself and slowly moved your hand forward between the first set of blades. With your wrist pushed between two of the thin blades, you reached for the mangled metal shard slotted through the second set. With your fingers firmly on it, you wiggled it, only making it move slightly. "Do hurry fleshy before I dislodge it with your arm still inside." His voice was slightly pained as you got a better grip on it.

"Going as fast as I can... aha!" You pulled the surprisingly long strip of metal from his blades and extracted your hand swiftly along with it. He let out a sigh of relief and expiramentally spun his blades. "That feels much better. Now I can go finish my work." Without so much as a thank you, he sauntered out however you did get a thanks from knockout.

Megatron

Megs wasn't a fun mech to be around, especially when you were his prisoner. But whenever the chance arose to get in his good graces, you took the opportunity. One day, when he returned to the nemesis after battle and he walked into his quarters, where he was also keeping an eye on you (Those good for nothing bots couldn't be trusted with a pawn like you). The door shut with a hiss locking behind him, and his shoulders relaxed he even let the slight hobble in his walk show, probably having forgotten you were there.

You watched as he sat in his desk chair and spun around to face you in your little cage. Your curiosity getting the better of you made you speak. "Lord Megatron, may I ask why you're injured?"

He let out an angered and frustrated growl, looking away from you. "Your autobot comrades got a few lucky shots on me, and I seem to have something lodged in my plating, most likely from the battle. He felt under one of the plates on his side, wincing slightly at a tender spot. "Was knockout not able to remove it?"

His optics flashed in anger, and he slammed his fist down on the chair arm. "I do not need his help with such a trivial thing! It will dislodge itself eventually." You held up your hands to placate him and just left it at that.

A day later and he came back in with an even worse hobble wincing as he sat in his chair. "You want me to remove that thing for you?... Lord Megatron." He sighed, pushing up off his seat and grabbing hold of your cage. He entered the pass code, and the door creaked open. You hopped out onto the table and motioned for him to show you which plate it was under. He leaned awkwardly over you so you could reach the panel of metal, and gently, you lifted it so you could get a better look.

A small rock (small to him anyway) was lodged in such a way that whenever he walked it ground into some of his finer components. "Ouch, that's probably like me getting a bone splinter in one of my joints. I'm surprised it wasn't bothering you this much yesterday."

"Quit your rambling and remove it, fleshy."

"Ok ok do you have anything I can use to knock it out? I'm not strong enough to pull it out by hand." You could practically hear him roll his optics, but he reached to a shelf above and grabbed a tiny object, dropping it next to you. It just looked like another piece of metal to you, but it was a proper shape and weight. You got back in position and aimed the object at the rock striking it once, then twice without much success. Megatron hissed as he involuntarily shifted and that stubborn piece of rock ground into the metal around it.

The third strike split it in half, and it fell away dropping to the floor far below. He stepped back, testing his flexibility, and you could tell it was still sore but not near as bad as it had been. He looked down at you, motioning for you to go back into your cage he locked the door behind you and had you toss the metal object outside. "Thank you for your cooperation."

"You're welcome, I guess?"

Knockout

Knockout was relatively friendly for a con and not nearly as xenophobic as some of the others could be. In fact, he was quite the opposite in that sense. He's very curious, maybe a little too curious about human anatomy and organ functions. But you could definitely get a few laughs from and with him. Eventually, your curiosity of their anatomy grew as you ran out of things to entertain you.

He was more than happy to explain things to you in the utmost detail. When you mentioned you'd love to get an in person look at a cybertronians inner workings, he happily volunteered for a light viewing. He transformed and popped his hood, revealing an alien, engine-esqe jumble of mirrored components where a normal engine would be. The metal wasn't sparkling like you expected with him, but it wasn't dirty either.

Your eyes sparkled with wonder as you tried to imagine how each piece would work, and without realizing you leaned over, your soft legging covered thighs smooshing against his red finish. Your hands gripped the inside lip of his engine space, letting you get a closer look at a smaller component that caught your eye. As if you were admiring a precious stone, you lightly grazed the edge of the glowing centerpiece's metal covering. Blue light shown through the purpose built air intakes on either side of the cover.

At your touch there, he shook like he'd been hit with an electric shock and slammed his hood shut as you jumped away. Clearing his vocalizer, he spoke with a very unlike him stutter. He also seemed a bit higher pitched than normal. "OK, that's enough of a ha-hands-on look for now. I-I need to return to my work, or Lord Megatron will be angry with me."

Jittery, he got back to work at his computer, leaving you to your own devices and wondering just what exactly that was all about.

"What in cybertron was that!? Their touch was so light, yet it was like I hit a powerline!" Perhaps it had been a bad idea to let you do that.

#fanfic #transformers fanfiction #transformers x reader #transformers prime #headcanon #knockout tfp #starscream tfp #megatron tfp

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365days365movies · 3 years

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January 19, 2021: Wings of Desire (1987) (Part One)

This movie was remade with Meg Ryan and Nicolas Cage.

It’s called City of Angels, and it was NOT. RECIEVED. WELL. You’re welcome.

Obviously, today’s movie isn’t that one, but the film preceding it, which was made in 1987 in West Germany, making this surprisingly not the first fantasy film I’ve seen from there! Because the other well-known fantasy film they made about 5 years earlier has FAR surpassed this one in popular culture. Ain’t that right, Falkor?

...OK, Falkor, pump the brakes there a little. Well, that film, to be fair, was meant for children. Something tells me that this Wim Wenders-directed film about an angel learning about the gifts of love and mortality...isn’t. Call it a hunch.

Wenders, by the way, is one of Germany’s most prominent directors, famous there and abroad for his diverse works. He’s made films on things from Cuban culture to road movies in the USA, to biographies and documentaries, and...well, also this film. He’s one of the great living auteur directors, apparently.

So, I’m excited! Plus, I don’t see as much angel fiction as I used to see. My mom is a big Touched By An Angel fan, so I’ve seen a LOT of that show in the past. Other than that, and your Wonderful Lifes and Angels in the Outfield, I feel like this is a genre that’s gone the way of the dodo in recent years. Granted, there’s also the miniseries of Angels in America...

But that one...that series I’m gonna have to be READY for, for literally every possible reason. Mostly AIDS. ANYHOO, let’s get to THIS angels movie, shall we? SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

The poem “Lieder vom Kindseit” is written/spoken/sung, and we roll right into the opening credits. After this, we fly over the city of Berlin, where a man with angel wings stands on the parapet of a church, down at the city below him. While no adults seem to notice his presence, children look up and see him above.

We also hear what would appear to be the thoughts of people through the city, as well as in an airplane. The man is on this airplane, where a little girl sees him, but eemingly nobody else does. He looks at her and smiles, and she returns the smile. And suddenly...a voiceover in English comes in, as done by...Peter Falk as himself? Like...Columbo Peter Falk?

...Huh. H’s talking about getting ready for a part of some kind, and aso waxes on the city below him. In that city below, in an apartment amongst a group of tenements, various people bemoan their lives and struggles, all witnessed through their thoughts. A man feels unloved by his wife, a woman is moving into the apartments, another man is dealing with his feeling for his now departed mother, a couple of parents are bemoaning their rock-and-roll loving son...and then the poem breaks in again, and we see views of children in the apartments, who see the angels in turn.

Probably a good time to introduce our angels, by the way. We have two of them, the curious Damiel (Bruno Ganz) and the clinical Cassiel (Otto Sander). They meet in a car on the highway, and note the various things they have observed, with Cassiel noticing more specific and practical things, and Damiel obviously being the more romantic of the two in his observations.

Damiel, in fact, admits that he sometimes wishes that he could be more tied to the earth, rather than looking above it as an outsider. Cassiel doesn’t shoot this down outright, but he’s definitely not nearly as interested in the idea as Damiel is. The two walk in a library, and as Damiel moves on, Cassiel succumbs to the voices of the angelic choir above. Damiel soon joins in on this as well, but is seen by anther set of angels, all of whom are in the library as well. But Damiel is clearly bereaved, and greatly longs to interact with the physical world.

In the library, Damiel and Cassiel observe an old man, and his inner thoughts are quotes from the blind Greek poet Homer. Homer (Curt Bois) sits in the lbrary and thinks, and almost seems to see Damiel for a moment. Interesting. But, Damiel leaves the library and gets on a train. On the train, he uses his angelic gifts to give a man hope.

Afterwards, he observes children in the street, and then comes across a circus. Working at the circus is Marion (Solveig Dommartin), a trapeze artist dressed as an angel for her next act. She’s having some trouble with the wings on her costume, though.

She complains about this, and for a brief moment - a single solitary moment - the film’s in color? Wait...why? Why is the film now in color for a second? I mean, it goes right back to black-and-white, so...huh, I dunno. I guess we’ll find out later. Damiel observed the trapeze artist, whose thoughts are hovering on the end of her trapeze career, as well as love lost amongst other things.

The circus is also being forced to close its doors, which saddens Marion more. She goes and listens to records alone in her trailer, unknowingly accompanied by Damiel. This is complicated when she, uh, strips. And he touches her bare shoulder. Man, Damiel, you’ve got it bad.

And then, as he leaves, the film becomes color once again! OK, I get it now! The angel’s viewpoint is in black-and-white, and the human viewpoint is in color, as if to establish a detachment from the world that we know. VERY neat! We go right back to black-and-white, as Damiel attends to a dying man, hit by a car in the street. He helps him repeat mortal experiences, which are ones that are meant for the man to hold onto the mortal world with, but that are also experiences that Damiel wishes to understand for himself. VERY interesting, and I can dig it.

Meanwhile, Cassiel is watching over Homer, who is looking at photographs in the library of...well, the effects of World War II and poverty in Germany, including pictures of dead children. Which was...pleasant. He leaves to find Potsdamer Platz, a city square in the center of Berlin. But there are two problems with this: the Berlin Wall is in the middle of where it used to be, AND the square was completely destroyed during Would War II.

And this is where we get a very interesting monologue from Homer, detailing how Germany changed when World War II happened. He questions what’s happened to his life ad world in this tie. All the while, he’s accompanied by Cassiel.

We leave Homer, and get more glimpses of people in Berlin, through Cassiel’s perspective this time. He writes in his book, and notes that the people of Germany are divided into many factions, unique to each individual. And as he rides in a taxi and thinks this, he sees the source of this change: World War II, and the effects of the politics then.

On the way there, he runs into Peter Falk, who’s being told myths aout Adolf Hitler by a German teenager, something that he thankfully doesn’t believe. This is, of course, as he’s making a film set in Nazi Germany, and we watch him trying on different hats for his outfit. Damiel and Cassiel watch this, as Falk chooses a hat and walks away, thinking on what he’ll have for dinner that night.

And as we hear the thoughts of some of the people on set, who have experienced Germany during this time period, and it’s that I start to realize that this film is about the present Germany, and its past. Which is...absolutely fascinating. Falk agrees, as he asks a woman serving as an extra for the film if he can sketch her. He wonders about her experiences, as his stream of consciousness reveals. It’s fascinating.

Falk leaves the set for an interview, and Damiel and Cassiel reunite to see a show of some kind, where many children are present. This turns out to be the circus from before. Damiel seems to enjoy it along with the children, although Cassiel seemingly distances himself from the crowd. Marion is also in the show, dressed up as a cat. And Damiel is transfixed by her.

Good place to pause for Part 2! See you there!

#wings of desire #sky over berlin #Der Himmel über Berlin #wim wenders #bruno ganz #damiel #otto sander #peter falk #curt bois #solveig dommartin #fantasy march #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year

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jesslivesau · 3 years

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jess au @iloveeverythingwaytoomuch

pre show jess: doesn't know anything except that sam told her some fucked up shit and she didn't really believe him much like amelia didn't believe jimmy but what's clear to her is that sam's upbringing was deeply fucked up in what might've been some kind of apocalypse doomsday cult and she can say "sam, it wasn't real" as much as she can til she's blue in the face but it isn't going to change the fact that sam is Deeply Fucked Up by Shit. and it upsets her and confuses her but he does a good job of setting it aside or knowing when to give in and he's such a sweet and Loving Dude otherwise so she just files it away in her bf trauma bank and keeps cheering him on

s1 jess: your bf's CRAZY brother shows up says he needs help finding your bf's CRAZY dad who may or may not have been part of a doomsday cult and you say, bitch i watched the heaven's gate documentary there is NO WAY i'm letting you leave with him, but he's not gonna Stay cuz he insists it's just for one night (and his brother DOES seem relatively stable, like, as a person), so jess insists she'll go too. while she's in the back seat sam tells dean he told her everything dean's like lol. sure. you believe in ghosts, sweetheart? and jess is like no but i do believe that i'll kick your ass if we don't get home in time for sam's interview tomorrow morning. and then the whole white woman thing happens and she's like oh fuck it's REAL but they DO GO HOME and instead of jess dying on the ceiling there's like idk ghost mary on the ceiling or some shit and they NARROWLY escape the fire together andddd idk they can't go back to stanford cuz it's not safe and their apartment complex literally went up in flames. there’s a more complex reason here but idk what it is. maybe it was brady (demon brady) who died or something IDK LISTEN ITS JUST AN AU

anyway all of season 1 when they’re trying to track down john jess is the voice of reason asking why do they need john in the first place? And eventually sam is like listen we don’t need HIM but if he’s got research on where yellow eyes is, that’s what we need. and dean is mad about that and he’s mad at jess and they bicker like crazy. and sam sleeps on the floor because dean is like dude cmon. don’t make me sleep in the same room as you and your gf together. maybe meg gets replaced by meg possessing jess, and she doesn’t get thrown out the window so when they exorcise her she just needs a hospital and then she’ll be ok. and that would explain why she’s in the hospital and not there for the finale, but can meet up with sam & john & dean in the hospital after

s2 jess: sam is so consumed by grief and fear that jess is actually the first one to notice that dean’s spirit might still be still Around. i’m imagining a scene where sam is asleep next to dean’s bed and jess is awake, and she slowly looks around towards dean and you see ghost!dean Connecting with her for the first time

obviously, all the grief episodes keep happening. maybe jess got seriously hurt as well tbh so she goes back to her parents house to recover; there’s an episode where the boys go meet her parents and dean and sam’s Daddy Issues come out in full force. eventually jess is back and kicking ass and slowly getting along more with dean, partially perhaps because of dean’s Grief Response to john’s death, which is that all the anger and hate comes bubbling up, and jess is like i don’t fucking know this dude, but from what sam’s told me, i hate him, which is not something that sam is in a position to Deal With right now. things proceed pretty much along the course

i am considering now if jess could also be a special child. she also has some kind of psychic abilities but i’d have to choose something cool for her. anyway if she IS then that gets her in the town with sam in all hell breaks loose which i think is the best place for her during that arc? i know all the other special children supposedly had to die but maybe her psychic power was to go inviisble or something lmfao i don’t fucking know. anyway dean has his sad monologue but jess either (a) fully shuts down or (b) just goes STRAIGHT to hunt down whatever the fuck his name is. jake? leverage man? that would be dope actually. and then actually dean, sam, bobby, and ellen actually meet her at the hell’s gate

s3 jess: truly does not understand why they’re hunting. gets into arguments with the boys all the time about how this is pointless, if you’re not gonna try and save yourself then why can’t you just put it down and let yourself have this year?? and dean’s a little bit like you know what jessica that makes a lot of damn sense. but it makes sam mad and they argue a lot about it and jess probably takes off halfway through the season. maybe after malleus maleficarum? partly cuz that’s the ep where ruby more or less becomes part of the team and also when she confirms that she can’t save dean from hell. and i just feel like jess would be like i cannot.... Sit Here.... and watch you both drive yourself into the ground. dean, if you’re gonna die, sam’s coming after you. you knew that. you just didn’t want him to go first.

maybe dean hits her lmfao and sam screams at him for it and jess just Walks Away, tearfully

s4 jess: so jess bailed midway through s3, but when dean wakes up and starts making calls in that phonebooth, he calls bobby and bobby hangs up, so he calls jess. and she comes and gets him.

jess and sam are obviously not together anymore, but jess is totally civil with sam and even with ruby. she’s like we can work together, it’s fine, whatever. and this is the season where dean and jess really bond and become a good Team. and cas is just usually confused why jess is Around but eventually gets used to her. i’ve toyed with jess being jewish which would lend a good and also funny perspective to all the heaven and hell stuff

jess heard about hell first from dean, but not the specifics of the stuff that dean told sam, not until after on the head of a pin. she’s their Lore Expert on seals and is trying to identify as many of them as possible so they can put in place safeguards, and maybe that bumps her up against angel priorities for an episode. maybe we get an episode where cas has to Threaten her 00 and he can say something like sam and dean are important..... you are not. remember that. and then [flappy wings vanish]

uhhhh jess’s siren in the siren episode....... is just like a carbon copy of sam lmfao. which is extremely funny and sam and jess will both kind of awkwardly clear their throats and not address that. i guess jess is just fucking stuck with bobby during the finale because the point of her presence is that she’s so USELESS to both demons and angels

s5 jess: i’d probably add in an early episode where her parents are killed, probably by demons because the demons know they can’t touch the winchesters due to angel shit but they can fuck up jess as much as they want. then when sam and dean temporarily split up jess would go with dean cuz she’s a hunter now and has nowhere else to go and it doesn’t feel right to just sit around with sam. or maybe she also leaves and splits up and doesn’t stick with dean cuz she’s processing her own traumatic shit. at any rate, early in the season there’s a moment where sam is Gone and dean and jess are drinking together and talking about their feelings and they have a moment where they gaze at each other in the eyes and almost lean towards each other.... then jess goes you know what? this is fucking weird and dean is like oh thank god you said that absolutely this is too weird

in The End, it’s revealed that jess was killed and no one will tell dean more information or talk about her until he finds out that she was pregnant when she was killed (presumably with sammifer’s baby)

in changing channels they get put into a telenovela and sam and jess have an tearful emotionally charged confession scene in spanish. this is about when sam and jess finally get back together [cue cheering]

in the chuck eps it’s revealed chuck rewrote it so that jess died on the ceiling in the first book cuz he was like “i just didn’t think it made sense for her to be alive! it was literary symmetry that’s all!”

in sam, interrupted when sam is all high on meds that’s when he says lots of kooky sweet shit to jess about wanting to MARRY her and have a FAMILY together and it’s sweet and also dean throws up in his mouth a little bit having to hear it

in my bloody valentine the thing that jess is hungry for is Family but i do not know the logistics of how

in dark side of the moon jess does die with the boys but it takes a while to find her, tho they eventually do in one of sam’s favorite memories (probably from the first time they met or something). she’s like what the fuck i’m jewish

no, i have no clue how she factors into swan song. she just does, ok. lucifer can snap her neck along with bobby’s

s6 jess: she tried to check in with dean occasionally at the braedens, and actually had dinner with them once but started checking in less and less as the year went on, and it turns out she knew that sam was back and she’d been hunting with him + the campbells and a couple things

when dean finds out he is truly FURIOUS, but jess is like dean i saw you with lisa and ben! i saw you getting better! i saw you happy, i saw you ok, and hell i’ve only known you since you showed up in palo alto five years ago but it was the most at peace i’ve ever seen you, and i couldn’t take that away from you, and neither could sam.

she’s also like yes, dean, he’s different, he’s colder, it makes me sad but who was the one who put up with YOU when you were spiralling after your dad’s death? or when you were all buttoned up after you came back from hell? he did! so show him a god damn OUNCE of empathy, would you!

and when they find out he’s soulless jess is like. hm. and dean is like i TOLD you there was something wrong with him!!! and jess is like i mean.... yeah....... and maybe i didn’t really want to admit it... cuz.... the sex was So good.........

[soulless sam winks at her]

anyway, s6 happens the way it happens and that’s fine

s7: the only important thing that happens in s7 is that Season Seven, It’s Time For a Wedding! is actually about some sort of monster and the only way to kill it is to cast a spell but the spell must be cast by “two warriors joined before god” which means married and cas is awkward about it cuz he doesn’t want to Presume Anything

and the whole episode is lots of sam and jess being like “i mean, of course, if you want to..... .like, but if you DON’T, that’s also totally fine, of course.... you know.... whatever you’re comfortable with” until finally they’re in the final battle and cas has to marry them the way barbossa does for will and elizabeth in potc and when dean is pinned against the wall by the monster he goes “DAMMIT JESS WILL YOU KISS MY BROTHER ALREADY” and then sam dips jess in a kiss and the monster is instantly obliterated [heart eyes]

i truly genuinely do not remember anything that happens in s7. anyway jess and sam are married now

s8: sam was with jess the whole year dean was in purgatory. they were struggling to get back to normal life after everything. dean is still fucking mad that sam didn’t go looking for him. i assume everything else goes pretty much according to whatever the fuck happened in s8 except jess at one point has to go to bat for benny cuz sam for some reason hates him so much

i’ve been toying with the idea of jess doing the trials not sam but i mean how can i take that away from my Boy

s9: i do not know anything that happened in this season ):

s10: see above

s11: see above

s12: now i never watched s12, but in this au there is no lucifer’s son jack. instead jess gets pregnant midway through the season; cas finds out first because he can sense it and he’s like why does it feel like there’s an extra being in the bunker, and then he spills to dean cuz he can’t keep a secret, and then dean is like “oh shit what are you gonna do” and jess is like well!!!! sam and i.... talked about this. we were.....open to the possibility. and dean is like wtf how could u possibly bring a child into this world that’s fucked up adn cas is like [wipes tear] that’s beautiful

anyway when they come back from some kind of hunt (probably something that involved claire) and sam and jess are in the bunker, sam goes “jess, seeing claire, seeing jody and the girls.... it makes me think.... i wanna have a family with you” and jess hugs him and then cas walks into the bunker with dean and is like “oh, have you told him about the baby?” and everyone SCREAMS at him

and cas uses his annual miracle allowance to just reverse time about 30 seconds so when he enters the bunker he just goes “i have nothing to say” and Fucking Leaves

the baby is born in the back of the impala in the s12 finale, on the way to the hospital. dean is devastated. he’ll have to reupholster the WHOLE THING. sam accidentally names the baby john but they don’t want to tell dean that so they decide to call him jack.

s13-15 gets to be mostly about how cute it is to have a wittle baby in the bunker. cas is the best babysitter because he loves babies and is very powerful so he can protect him. the occultum nonsense in s15 can be about finding a Safe Place for baby jack, no matter what happens to the rest of the world. sam tells jess, you go with him, you’ll be safe there. dean tells sam, you go with them, you’ll be safe there. all of that good good cute family stuff. was it the best idea to have a baby in the middle of constant apocalypses? maybe not, but like, they are ALWAYS in constant apocalypses, so at some point you just have to bite the bullet

anyway. please clap

#au

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transformers-why · 6 years

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Bundles a' Blankets

Plot: Megatron and You have quite the routine for cuddling... and @fruutie568 would like to know about them!

(Mtmte Megatron x Human! Reader)

Hope ya' like it! Headcannons are always so fun, I can kinda just let my thoughts flow! Thanks for keepin' me busy in between story writing.

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Let's get started!

- You wouldn't really think of Megatron as the most... cuddly... being in the world...

- That is until one of you is tired.

- Normally, Megatron is pretty okay with bodily contact. He actually seems to prefer you on his shoulder or in his hands.

- The possessive warlord side of him really doesn't want you getting stepped on.

- So, yeah, you're normally found with him, doing something official or officially adorable (like painting or slow dancing or sharing music, awwww)

- Since "you asked him to do it"

- He really can't resist you.

- Ravage theorizes it's the poetic side of him, it makes him a bit of a romantic.

- And a pushover when it comes to love.

- Snuggles wise though?

- Those are usually saved for bedtime, or a Lazy Day™.

- The days that Megatron just lays and thinks are the kind of days you get to either go exploring and cause havoc, or you bundle up a ton of blankets and snuggle into the crook of his neck.

- It's usually the latter.

- Although he really, really likes carrying you with his hands, just having them cupped together so you can sit without worrying about a fall. It's more practical for him, and helps him find your size a little more accepting. It's hard having such a small s/o sometimes.

- Since Megatron is so...large, compared to you, he prefers you sleeping in a place he can see and know he won't move around much, so you're usually forced to sleep on his chest. (chassis? Someone tell me Cybertronian anatomy)

- Not that his chest can't be comfortable! You have accumulated tons, and I mean tons of blankets and pillows and fluff over the Lost Light's travels.

- Let's not forget that Megs is also living being. And living beings tend to generate heat. This means nice, warm blankets all night long! And an arm carefully cradling all the blankets/you to help 'protect you'.

- You're usually the first to fall asleep, since Megs likes to see you covered in the blankets. It's quite cute calming to him, and assures him falling into recharge with a soft smile.

Avatar wise? It's usually only for if things get serious.

- If you get super upset, or injured, that's when holoavatar Megs comes to the rescue!

- He's still giant for a human so the best thing he can do is pull you into a tight hug, trying to soothe your worries.

- Cuddles with human Megatron—while comfortable—was something you said was a little awkward sometimes, since you like the real, full size him just the same.

- He low-key teared up at that. His reaction is now classified information.

But then there's movie nights.

- Wowow movie nights are cute.

- Unless it's a horror movie or a good comedy you tend to drift off around halfway through a showing.

- This is literally the only reason Megatron attends movie nights that aren't related to war documentaries, Shakespearean plays, or a decent looking drama. You falling asleep.

- Everyone is so confused when Megatron leaves halfway through movie night nearly every time one plays.

- Rewind got a little offended to be honest, but finds it nice that "Megatron is willing to try a different movie taste"

- Yeah, right.

- The medics and Ravage are the only ones that ever notice the small glances and relaxed smiles Megatron sends to the bundled up you that's either decided to lay on his shoulder or his hands that movie night.

- So basically they're the only ones that know what's up, and all of them find it really sweet, but keep it to themselves.

- After you fall asleep during a movie, Megatron always quietly takes you back to your shared habsuite so you both can rest.

- If you happen to wake up though, he secretly loves the giant grin that forms on your face when you realize he was carrying you to bed.

- Awwwww he's so sweet with you! Look at the supposedly heartless bot, carrying you to bed!

- It makes your heart swell the way he always carefully holds you in his hands—when he doesn't need them—if you have a blanket. It's like he was given a bird and told to keep it as safe as he could, or maybe a tiny glass figure.

- When you wake up as he takes you to your shared room, you often reroute him to one of the large windows on the Lost Light.

- This is so you can both quietly watch the stars and say small words, helping you fall back asleep and Megatron feel more at ease.

- More loved, truly.

#my heart is wARM #thanks for this ask #i listened to Grace VanderWall and Sabrina Carpenter while making this #it was niiiiiice #mtmte #megatron #megatron x reader #tf #transformers #ll #lost light #reader insert #headcannons #thanks for readin'#lemme know if theres any important typos!#is a bots chest called a chassis or...?

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truemanblack · 6 years

Text

A/N: ew I lied I ended up writing more, and I’ll probably have part two up tomorrow!

The Marriage: Part One prologue

Since agreeing the week has been harry running around at any chance asking me “Are you sure?” When brushing my teeth, eating my breakfast, or even dragging myself through the door. Today was rough, when studying film, a lot of the guys are “cock out” as if they’ve seen every movie on the planet. I spent my day fighting about how French films are way better than any American film – because it’s true. I was pooped, and I was hoping Harry would have had dinner ready by the time I got home.

He’s a goddamned mind reader. Harry was probably the most thoughtful person I knew. Dinner was already on the makeshift kitchen table (haters will say a coffee table). I kicked off my boots, threw my bag on the ground and ran towards the glass of wine on the table.

“Hello to you too,” Harry laughed picking up my bags and hanging them on the hooks. I gave him a small wave and taking a long sip of the wine. Harry was a decent chef, maybe not the best, but he could make a good spaghetti and meat sauce – which is all he makes. Harry took a seat next to me and put on The Office – he was buttering me up.

“What did you do?” He took a seat next to me and took a sip of his wine. Harry would always butter me up when needed something. Last time I had to call of a date with a girl for him since he didn’t have the heart. Or the time before that where I had to go do a return for him because he was in the store for too long and felt the need to impulse buy.

“Hm?” He always does this, his eyebrows were up, he was slightly smirking, something was up. His lips were pursed on the wine glass as he glanced over at me. His stupid smug face, he wanted something from me.

“Harry…” He laughed before turning to me whilst he raked his fingers through his hair. I continued to glare at him and his face softened as he turned his body towards me.

“I’m just,”

“If you fucking ask me if I’m sure again, I’m not going to marry you and I’ll ship your ass to Switzerland.”

“Okay Meredith,” He laughed before switching the television to some food documentary. ‘I just don’t want you doing this because you know it’ll help me. You always put other before yourself.”

“I proposed to you, so obviously I’m okay with it.” He sighed with an ‘okay’ and we sat in silence. I was fully engrossed about this guy explaining about how he built his restaurant from the ground up I hadn’t noticed that Harry was staring at me.

“What?” I laughed as he knuckled at his eyes.

“So how is this going to go down?” He paused Netflix and I sat back. “Like courtroom or Vegas?”

“I feel like if we’re going to keep it on the downlow we could just go to Vegas, have a quick drive through Elvis wedding, then come back and spend months with immigration.”

“But what would we say?”

I cleared my throat before crossing my legs in front of Harry. I flipped my hair and put his hands mine. “Harry and I,” I pretended to tear up, “We have known each other for years and I couldn’t see my life without him. We just couldn’t go on living an ocean apart and I knew it was brash but – when you know you know.” I sniffled, and I could see Harry smirking.

“Okay, but what about divorce?”

“Wow not even a tear from my words and you want to divorce me.” I put my hands back in my lap and he moved closer into me.

“Amelia, I’m serious. Like you can’t be married to me forever.”

“Well we have to be married for at least a year,” I shrugged.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s too fucking obvious if we just divorce a week after you’ve cashed that green card.”

“Okay, well, it’s expensive.”

“We don’t have kids, nor a house, it’ll be cheap for us.”

The night went on with small things about getting married, we both agreed it’ll be hilarious to have an Elvis marry us. Since it was just a Monday night, and I tended to get home late due to the debates with the male’s in my class. My head was in Harry’s lap as we attempted to watch ‘You’ve Got Mail’ for the millionth time. His fingers are massaging my scalp, I could feel my eyes getting droopy. We were at the part where Meg Ryan’s character was telling Tom Hanks how she loved fall and freshly sharped pencils. I hummed as Harry talked about the first time he saw this movie with his mom and how he kept giving her sharped pencils (sounds just like him). He convinced me to go bed, which I hated since I had to be up early.

+++

I woke up to the sound of Harry starting the shower. The one thing I hated about living with Harry is that he was consistent. Every morning – on the dot – he would wake up at five thirty am and go out on a run. He would be back an hour later to shower. Our shower was loud, the pipes were old, and they creaked when you took the first shower. The pipes were at the back of my head, so I heard them rattle and screech every morning, I didn’t need an alarm clock. After his shower he would make a smoothie, and I would lay in bed until he would somehow drag me out of bed to eat something. The blender was louder than normal today, maybe it was the migraine I was getting for forcing myself to stay awake last night.

“Pet, get up.” Harry opened my door and peaked in and I put my duvet over my head. I heard my door creak open more and I heard his heavy feet in my room. The weight of my bed shifted as I felt a tug on the blanket.

“Don’t you dare.” I mumbled as Harry tried to make his way under the blanket.

“Darling, I made you a smoothie.” He sang putting his weight on me. I laid on my stomach and he laid on my back.

“What color is it?”

“It’s like dark pink.”

“Are their banana’s in it?”

“No, I know you hate them.” I hated him, he made a good smoothie today which meant I had to get up. I pulled the blanket back and saw his big grin. He was so smug, he knew what he was doing.

“I’m not gonna like it if you trick me and it’s green.” I pouted pulling the hair tie off his wrist and making a bun on my head.

“You didn’t talk to me for three days after I did that.”

“You loved it.”

“You said it not me.” Harry quickly got up after his smart remark and I followed him. I never had classes on Tuesday since I had night classes on Monday. I knuckled at my eye as I took a seat on the stool at our breakfast bar. Harry was extra joyful this morning, and I had no idea how someone could be happy in the morning.

“What do you have planned today?” Harry poured me a big glass of the smoothie then handed me a bagel. “Anything exciting?”

“Why?” Once again, Harry was buttering me up. He shrugged while I squinted at him. “You’re just being super nice to me usually you’re out of the door by now.”

“Exam day, I don’t need to be there.” Harry was a TA for an English professor on campus, so he usually was setting up the class or grading papers by now. Instead he’s standing shirtless in our kitchen with sweatpants that hung a bit too low on his hips. I’ve gotten used to seeing him like this and held back the constant blushing when we first moved in. Harry lived with a guy before me and didn’t care about his appearance. The first morning he walked out he was just in his boxers – hard none the less – and had no idea I was up. The next day he came out free balling in sweatpants and I could see the entire outline of his dick. I think after seeing me beet red for a week he learned to dress around me. Though, I got myself in through as well when the only pajama shorts I had left were ones that showed my entire ass. It was a learning process.

“I have to write a paper, will you proof read it?”

“I have a day off and you want me to work.”

“Would you expect anything less of your fiancée?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” He laughed then rested his forearms on the counter and leaning into me more. “I was reading into the immigration thing, we’re gonna need proof we’ve been together for quite some time.”

“We have a lot of photos together, we live together, we practically are attached to the hip.” I shrugged taking a long swig of my smoothie. “I think that could be enough.”

“I have a journal,” I smirked trying to shuffle back a laugh, “Shut it. I write about you sometimes.”

“How dumb I am, and how much I annoy you?” I rose my eyebrow and he shook his head and sucked in a breath.

“Yeah, and how happy you kinda of make me.”

“Just kind of?”

“Just a little.”

“Damn, I thought I meant more to you. I’m your fiancée!!” I put my head in my hands for dramatics and I could hear Harry’s dry laugh.

“Shut up, I think a few of the entries could count, I know you don’t write in a journal.”

“I write in a journal! Just not as often as you.”

“What do you write about?”

“Food, mostly.” I admitted. And he smirked moving closer to me. His hand was on the counter in front of me and his nipples and I had eye contact. “Once I wrote about you, but I was drunk.”

“What does it say?”

“Harry is an idiot.”

“I’m not shocked.”

“What did you write about me?” I gazed up at him with a big grin hoping it would let him leak his dirty laundry.

“How much I hate that shit eating grin of yours.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #tm*#them

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cannibalisticshadows · 5 years

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LTA Prompt: I think it'd be really cute if Megs paints Roxanne's nails! Can it be a blue color, like her dress at the end of the movie?

Loving The Alien: Part 18: “Nails”

(Ao3 Link)

She giggles when his pinkie finger brushes against the underside of her foot.

Megamind’s hands are truly lovely. Long and skilled elegant fingers. He holds her heel with all the gentleness in the world, a severe contrast to this morning. With her, he’s tender. With others, he’s awkward and troublesome and rough. She knew he was clueless when it came to most social interactions; while she didn’t know if it was because of humans in general, or the socializing part, Roxanne did know it was an educational experience to go shopping with him.

He tolerated the girls who wanted to take their picture with her; but when it came to the checkout she couldn’t quite keep him in check. He was overly blunt in his open observations, and could not carry on a conversation without terrifying, or being terrified of, the poor clerk who was simply trying to do his job. He seemed to use fear as a weapon when it effected him, too. She’s certain that in his early battles with Wayne, his goal was primarily on beating his nemesis. As for owning Metro City, it was the title and the place, not the people. He could barely stand the company of strangers.

…But back to his hands. Ahh, are they exquisite! How did she get so lucky to have him all to herself?

“You are very ticklish,” he notes aloud, jamming the brush back into the little glass bottle. He pulls it back out and gently lifts her foot again. She sighs as he paints on another coat of deep navy. “If I had known that years ago, I would have drawn out plenty more reactions from you!”

“That would be cheating,” she says coyly, flexing her toes.

He’s sitting in front her on the floor, as she sits back against one of the pillows they’ve taken from her bed, leaning against the foot of the couch. The television plays behind him, on some documentary about turtles, but she could care less about it right now. Her feet at in his lap, and he’s bent over her toes as he pretties her up. Beside her is a bowl of half melted watermelon sorbet, and another bowl of triple chocolate made from cashew milk. It’s dark out, and the only light besides her TV is the kitchen light, casting shadows on his sharp face, pinched in focus over her feet. She smiles, ridiculously happy in the moment.

“Precisely,” he purrs. “Cheating is in my veins. I’m a supervillain, Miss Ritchi! I don’t play nice!”

“Oh, stop it you,” Roxanne snipes playfully, nudging his face with her other foot, all dark navy toes against his clear blue skin. He smirks, turning his head to press a kiss against the side of her foot. She pulls back, gasping, because she doesn’t want to give him more reason to poke fun at her ticklishness. But of course he catches it, and smirks at her again.

As the last coat of polish is applied to her left pinkie toe, Megamind straightens his back and looks down at her feet, his canvas. “Voila!”

She carefully flexes her toes and wiggles them, admiring his handiwork. “You could make a living as a pedicurist,” she teases.

“Petty-cure,” he echos, tilting his head as his expression twists up. “I’m not familiar with the term.”

“What you just did,” she says, and carefully stands up off the floor. She huffs as she drops onto the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table. “A manicurist does hands,” she wiggles her painted fingers, “but plenty of people do both.” Megamind chirps in response as he screws the brush top back onto the bottle, placing it carefully on the table before dropping down beside her.

They returned home a little after lunch time; she managed to rope him into helping her cook a quick meal, but he was more helpful than she imagined. She’d almost forgotten he said he liked to bake and cook, when the desire arose. But cooking with Megamind was fun; a little silliness in the kitchen that resulted in a smudge of mayonnaise on her cheek and on his nose and peas all over the floor, but together they put together a tuna casserole—her grandmother’s star recipe. While that was in the oven, she turned around to find him hovering by her shoulder, his eyes smoldering with want.

Roxanne found herself being pressed against the counter, gently, with his hands on her waist. His lips chased hers, whispering pleas and inaudible desires. Her tongue sought his, making the alien gasp in mild shock, but doubling his efforts to mirror her.

He was a quick learner.

Their first kiss was unlike this one; while this one left her shaking and drooling with a desire for him to take her then and there on the kitchen floor, it did not make the first kiss pale in comparison. She still remembers as if it was just moments ago the way he froze up in alarm at her placing her lips over his. Like he could not believe what was happening. Yet, slowly, as she pressed her body against his ever so slightly, her hands cupping his face, he steadily began to reciprocate. He pressed his own mouth to hers, unsure and stiff and awkward—all elbows and fluttering hands, until he slowly placed them on her waist.

Now, he pressed against her with a new sense of urgency. A lustful urgency that burned in his eyes, demanding and needy. His mouth, hot and panting, at her neck and clavicle, made her moan aloud and crash into the stove, the knobs digging into her lower back. She hardly noticed until Megamind pulled away sheepishly. As far as mood swings go, he was the king of it. Perhaps it was simply because of his inexperience.

To her mild disappointment, they calmed themselves down and made their way to the couch. They turned the TV on but neither was particularly interested. Instead, he rummaged around their bought goods until he came upon the nail polish. Of all the things he could ask of her, his request to paint her nails was the last thing she could possibly imagine.

And so, having dug into the ice cream before they had their late lunch/early dinner, Roxanne found themselves sitting close together on the couch, with her admiring his handiwork.

“Megamind, did you ever paint your nails before?” She asks, tilting her head to lean against his. He grunted in response, gingerly taking ahold of her left hand, spreading her fingers out.

“I painted them what you call black as an adolescent. I painted them a second time with—well, I call it star dust. But Warden said it was a shade of violet. I didn’t really bother with my nails afterwords,” he explained, looking at his own fingers once he set her hand down. “Painting them is not really all that fun, at least for me, now that I’m an adult. Besides, I wear gloves most of the time.” Megamind glance at said gloves, which were limply hung over her television stand. She’s so used to seeing them on him that it was almost bizarre to see them without hands inside! A sillier part of her wanted to try them on for size. She didn’t because firstly, his hands were a bit larger, and secondly, he had two whole extra fingers.

“But painting yours was quite enjoyable,” he admits sheepishly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “…I’d like to do it again, if you’ll let me?”

She smiled softly, taking pity on his hesitance. “Of course. It’s more of a luxury for me, I’d imagine.”

He tutted, but didn’t respond.

At that moment, the timer to the oven went off, alerting them that the casserole was done. Megamind hummed happily, standing up with her as she went to get it. He liked her cooking, which she was pleased by. Of course, feeding people her own cooking was gratifying, but for him, it gave her a new sense of satisfaction that was alien to her, though not unwelcome.

She watched him leap ahead of her, reaching for the oven with a cocksure smile as if he’d won a race. Shaking her head, Roxanne let him do it, still shaken to see him able to pull out a hot, glass pan out of the oven with ease using his bare hands.

As she watched him meddle in her kitchen, placing the pan on the counter and making a mild fuss about needing things not being in his immediate reach, she thought over the things that had transpired in the past weeks.

Three weeks… had it really been that long?

This connection between them, if it was forced to be pinpointed on a specific date, was set off the day of his contact fell out during the failed kidnapping. The day after, Megamind showed up here, shaking in his boots, and practically begged on his knees to never tell what she saw. Which was confusing then, but understandable now. He saw himself ugly. Roxanne frowned, disagreeing with all of her heart. Megamind, so alien and strange, could not fathom being accepted by the human population on the principle that because was so different, he would be ridiculed more than he already was. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons he became a villain. To be hated, feared, so that people had a lawful reason to.

Roxanne could not, much to her anger, make people accept the unusual. The strange. The unique. Megamind knew that, and shut himself away so far he could barely socialize with others now. Would that ever change?

When she blatantly told him she did not mind his alienness, his bright green reptilian eyes or the long blue tail, the extra fingers or the sharp, shark like teeth, Megamind took a leap of faith. He began to… trust her. And so, he started coming over early in the morning or late at night, simply to talk with her. He always had an excuse—he never showed up without reason, but Roxanne knew he was there to see her. For whatever reason, she’s mildly certain it wasn’t because he was in love with her yet. He was there to test a theory. To see if she truly didn’t mind the non-humanness of him.

One thing led to another, and he suddenly decided it was too obvious he was getting close to her. Which led him to say he wanted to change their relationship.

The rest was history, like any other couple just starting out; the kisses, the long talks, the gentle touches, the shared dinner, the moment his tail dropped itself and he was forced to stay with her as it grew back.

He was fine now. But it was clear he wan’t exactly going anywhere any time soon.

Roxanne couldn’t help but think: how long would this thing between them last? She’d been head over heels before, but never like this. She’d had boyfriends, a few girlfriends, and was content to live out in a mutually beneficial relationship that would wind down someday. Typically that happened when they got sick of each other, or things just didn’t work out. Other factors got in the way, her heart was mended, tears dried up, life went on.

But she’s known Megamind for nearly seven years. It feels like she’s known him all of her life, yet this thing is so new. So… strong. Her heart leaped into her throat and her chest tightened at the thought of him approaching her one day and simply saying, I think we should see other people.

She doesn’t think she could ever get over that heartbreak. Yet, one day, he would have to go. This blissful domestic-ness between them would find an end. They had two very different visions in life, two very different paths to lead, and…

“I can hear you thinking, treasure,” Megamind says, startling her out of her sudden moroseness. He moved so quietly, and she so deep in though, that Roxanne didn’t hear him abandon his kitchen work to come up to her. He tilts his head, almost touching hers, eyes bright and cautious, searching. “Tick tick tick.” He waggles his fingers. “What’s gotten you so mel-on-cholly?”

“What?”

“Sad.”

“Oh. Nothing.” He frowns, and opens his mouth to insist, but she shakes her head. “Really, it’s nothing. Let’s eat?”

Megamind won’t let it go, she knows. He looks too determined now, but he’s still so tender with her he won’t press her for the truth. Upset that she’s ruined the mood, she tries to soothe it by a kiss to his cheek. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s been a long day.”

The blue alien eyes her warily, tail curling a bit to brush against her ankle, but he complies and follows her into the kitchen.

~.~.~.~

Supper was relatively quiet, and with her sudden terrifying thoughts of him leaving, she tells him she’s turning in early. Megamind, not having exactly done anything alone in her apartment before (besides when he left for a bit yesterday morning), declines her offer of having full rein of the television. Instead, he follows her upstairs and turns the covers down with her, sliding beneath the bedclothes before she could ask if he was even tired.

Wordlessly, she gets in beside him. As she turns the bedside lamp off, and they’re bathed in darkness, he asks, in the protection of the night, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Megamind.”

“… B—”

“I’m fine. Really.” Roxanne then turns over and pretends to go to sleep. It’s weird though, knowing her bedfellow was aware of her alertness, and feeling his buzzing, half-manic energy. He’s watching her, she thinks, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. How good was his night vision? Could he see her in this pitch black? Could he see the way she wanted to turn in on herself?

They stay in that state until she falls asleep, restlessly.

~.~.~.~

Roxanne wakes up to the sound of beeping. Instinctually, after a seven year routine, she reaches out to put the alarm clock on snooze. However, her alarm was never set, and as she slaps the clock the sound doesn’t turn off. Her eyes open, alert, to see the sun barely peaking over the city’s horizon through her window.

She feels Megamind shift and sit up in the bed, and the beeping stops. She turns over to face him, askance. He’s holding his wrist up, watch up in the air. “What, Minion?” He asks with a huff. There are dark marks under his eyes. Did he sleep?

“Sir,” comes the static shrill voice of his fishy companion through the watch’s speakers.

“What?” Snaps the alien.

“There’s—been an incident.”

“Elaborate.”

“Um. Is Miss Ritchi there?” Minion seems to say her name like it’s a curse. God. Did he really dislike her that much, or was he just jealous for ‘stealing’ his boss/friend?

“Yes.”

“You may want to bring her to the Lair, too, Sir.”

Megamind looks to her in surprise, as if she has any idea why Minion was asking for both of them. She shrugs, as clueless as he. The alien squirms around until he can slide off his side of the bed. She props herself up on her elbow, throat still parched from her sleep. “What happened?”

“I—um, there’s—“

“Speak!”

“Someone took a picture.”

“What?”

“A picture of you and Miss Ritchi. Together. It’s all over the Internet.“

#megamind #loving the alien #loving the alien 18 #chapter 18 #megarox #megamind x roxanne

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brokehorrorfan · 7 years

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Blu-ray Review: 31

Rob Zombie is perhaps the most polarizing figure in all of horror cinema. Fans - myself included - enjoy the singular vision he brings to the genre in films like The Devil's Rejects and his Halloween remake, while vocal detractors criticize his habit for sameness. For those who fall in the latter category, Zombie's latest effort, 31, adds more fuel for the fire. But even his supporters will be left questioning how a filmmaker with such a unique voice could create something so uninspired.

Littered with white trash characters, killer clowns, eccentric Nazis, profanity-laden dialogue, excessive violence, gritty visuals, his usual stable of actors, and a 1970s Halloween setting, 31 feels more like a parody of a Rob Zombie film than the real thing. One would expect Zombie to avoid these familiar tropes to prevent being further pigeonholed, but instead he throws them all in to one middling script.

Set on October 31, 1976, the film follows five carnies - Charly (Sheri Moon Zombie, The Devil's Rejects), Roscoe (Jeff Daniel Phillips, The Lords of Salem), Panda (Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs, Welcome Back Kotter), Venus (Meg Foster, They Live), and Levon (Kevin Jackson) - who are kidnapped in an abandoned building, where they're forced to play a sadistic game known as 31. The rules - as outlined by the aristocratic, powdered wig-clad leader, Father Murder (Malcolm McDowell, Halloween) - are simple: survive the living hell for 12 hours and go free, or die trying.

They're being hunted by a number of colorful killers: Hispanic Nazi dwarf Sick-Head (Pancho Moler); chainsaw-wielding clown brothers Psycho-Head (Lew Temple, The Devil's Rejects) and Schizo-Head (David Ury, Breaking Bad); German giant Death-Head (Torsten Voges, The Big Lebowski) and his beloved minx, Sex-Head (Elizabeth Daily, Pee-wee's Big Adventure); and sadistic killing machine Doom-Head (Richard Brake, Batman Begins).

That's the whole plot. The only structure is one of repetition; the movie is little more than a series of monotonous scenes in which a killer is unleashed, a protagonist is attacked, and the killer is defeated; then the cycle repeats. It's essentially The Purge meets House of 1000 Corpses, except with little incentive for the audience to become invested. Zombie is in dire need of a co-writer to push him outside his comfort zone.

Zombie gets a lot of flack for casting his wife in all of his films, but I've found her work to be exceptional thus far. Working with such lazy material here, however, Moon Zombie has little character to grasp even as a lead. McDowell seems to be enjoying himself, but his role is pretty boring beyond the costume, his screentime is limited, and he hardly interacts with the main characters. Instead, he watches the action from a distance, alongside his fellow royalty - played by Judy Geeson (The Lords of Salem) and Jane Carr (Dear John).

The only character of substance is Doom-Head. Brake really digs into the intensity of the role, bringing to mind David Carradine's remarkable performance in Kill Bill. He commands attention every time he's on screen, beginning with the striking, black-and-white opening monologue. It's a shame such a strong performance and potentially iconic horror villain are wasted in a forgettable movie.

The one area in which Zombie succeeds, per usual, is the visuals. You can hate on his storytelling all day, but the man knows how to compose an interesting shot. Working with cinematographer David Daniel (Teen Wolf), Zombie channels The Devil's Rejects in the grainy, desert scenes before entering the dank, cavernous compound in which the game is played. Handheld camera is often employed to help sell the intensity, but it becomes so shaky during fight scenes that it's often difficult to tell exactly what's going on.

Zombie publicly stated that the film had to go through the MPAA rating process three times in order to achieve an R rating, but the unrated cut that he promised would be released on Blu-ray/DVD sadly never materialized. The rated cut still offers plenty of carnage - courtesy of special effects artist Wayne Toth, who has worked on all of Zombie's films - including wounds inflicted with chainsaws, axes, baseball bats, knives, and more.

The Blu-ray and DVD release of the film carries just two extras, but they contain all the information you could ever want to know about the project. The first is an audio commentary by Zombie, on whom you can always count to be open and informative about his process. The second is a two-hour making-of documentary that takes viewers step-by-step through pre-production and all 20 ambitious days of filming. Director Josh Hasty (Honeyspider) tells a more compelling story than the film itself by intercutting fly-on-the-wall set footage with reflections from Zombie on each day's experiences.

31 finds Rob Zombie at a crossroads in his career. Since the movie was crowdfunded, he had the freedom to do something a bit different. Instead, he played it safe and phoned it in. Will he continue to regurgitate the same trite material with which he's comfortable, or will he expand his horizons? Time will tell, but one can only hope that getting the aimless regression of 31 out of his system will allow Zombie to start taking risks again.

31 is available now on Blu-ray and DVD via Lionsgate.

#31 #rob zombie #sheri moon #sheri moon zombie #richard brake #rz31 #review #article

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bigyack-com · 4 years

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Jeffrey Katzenberg and Meg Whitman Gamble $1.8 Billion on Quibi

LOS ANGELES — They had to cancel the premiere party. But Jeffrey Katzenberg and Meg Whitman have stuck with the April 6 start date of Quibi, the short-form video app for smartphones that they hope will attract millions of subscribers.The two veteran executives have led some of the nation’s top companies for decades. But they have spent the last two years in start-up mode, prodding investors to kick in nearly $1.8 billion and courting producers and stars like Jennifer Lopez, LeBron James, Chance the Rapper, Idris Elba, Bill Murray, Steven Spielberg and Chrissy Teigen. Now Mr. Katzenberg and Ms. Whitman are ready to unveil their ambitious venture right in the middle of a pandemic.“This is either going to be a massive home run or a massive swing and miss,” said Michael Goodman, a media analyst at Strategy Analytics.Quibi, a portmanteau of “quick bites,” will offer movies, reality shows and news programs made for the smartphone, with no installment clocking in at more than 10 minutes. The offerings fall into three main categories: movies that will be released in chapters; documentaries and unscripted reality shows; and quick-hit news and sports reports from NBC, BBC, ESPN and others. Fifty shows will be available Monday.Before the spread of the coronavirus, whenever Mr. Katzenberg and Ms. Whitman made their Quibi pitch, they described it as an on-the-go diversion for anyone standing in line at Starbucks or riding the subway. The pandemic changed the context. With potential customers largely confined to their homes, it will now go up against established platforms like Netflix and Amazon Prime Video that can be watched on any screen, including the living room TV. Quibi works only on the phone.Ms. Whitman said she wasn’t concerned about the crisis’s effect on the start-up’s chances. “Think about how often you use your phone when you’re homebound,” she said. “People who are home with their children would really like a 10-minute break.”There is also the question of how much people are willing to spend on streaming at a time when nearly 10 million are out of work. Entertainment options have also expanded while Mr. Katzenberg and Ms. Whitman were building their app with 267 employees in an open-floor office in Hollywood. The Walt Disney Company and Apple joined the streaming party in November, with Disney Plus and Apple TV Plus, and TikTok, filled with short homemade videos, had a spectacular rise, hypnotizing the young viewers Quibi hopes to attract.Under those circumstances, Quibi (rhymes with “libby”) announced last month that it would be free for its first three months. After that, the cost will be $5 a month with ads and $8 without. Shortly after the announcement of the introductory offer, the company canceled its premiere party, which was expected to draw 150 celebrities among its 1,500 guests, because of the pandemic. But delay the launch? No way.“Given the quality and quantity and convenience of Quibi, we think it comes at a time when people are looking for relief, looking for distraction and looking to escape,” Mr. Katzenberg said. “Those are all the things we are trying to deliver to them.”Mr. Katzenberg, 69, and Ms. Whitman, 63, have dived headlong into a challenging third act, creating a product geared to people half their age at a time when millennials and Gen Z-ers have taken to needling their elders (see “OK Boomer”).The head of Walt Disney Studios at the time of the original version of “The Lion King,” Mr. Katzenberg has often gone against the grain. Passed over for the No. 2 job at Disney in 1994, he built a rival conglomerate, DreamWorks SKG, with Mr. Spielberg and David Geffen. He also waged a legal battle against his former employer, saying he had deserved more compensation. The bitter, headline-generating fight concluded with Disney handing him a settlement estimated at $250 million.DreamWorks faded, but DreamWorks Animation, the spinoff run by Mr. Katzenberg, survived until 2016, when Comcast’s NBCUniversal bought it for $3.8 billion. As part of the deal, Mr. Katzenberg received a $420 million payout — and reluctantly stepped aside.In the back of his mind was a failed initiative similar to Quibi: Pop.com, a side venture he had started in 1999 with Mr. Spielberg, Brian Grazer and Ron Howard as a venue for video shorts. It went bust before it even launched.Quibi’s other leader, one of the country’s most powerful female executives, rose through the ranks of American business at Disney, DreamWorks and Hasbro before she took eBay from a shop with a staff of 30 to a global powerhouse with 15,000 workers and $8 billion in annual revenue. When she left, in 2008, she was a billionaire.She went on to spend more than $100 million of her fortune to run as a Republican for governor of California, only to lose the 2010 election to Jerry Brown. A return to business put her in charge of Hewlett-Packard, which she left in 2017. “I’ve been working straight for 35 years,” she said upon her departure. “I’m going to enjoy some downtime.”But she soon joined Mr. Katzenberg at what was then called New TV, after he had raised $1 billion from Hollywood studios, the Chinese e-commerce giant Alibaba and other investors. “She doesn’t like this, but I keep saying we’re two old dogs who have a new trick,” Mr. Katzenberg said at the time.Ms. Whitman left her home in Northern California for a West Hollywood high-rise. Now she can see Mr. Katzenberg’s house in Beverly Hills from her bedroom window.Start-ups rarely run smoothly, and several prominent executives have left Quibi over the last year, including Janice Min, the former co-president of The Hollywood Reporter-Billboard Media Group; Diane Nelson, a former Warner Bros. executive; and Tim Connolly, a former Hulu executive. Mr. Katzenberg and Ms. Whitman are known as exacting managers who keep an eye on the tiniest detail.The company has also had trouble getting the word out. Although Quibi spent millions on commercials that ran during the Super Bowl and the Oscars, 68 percent of participants in a Morning Consult/Hollywood Reporter poll last month said they were not familiar with the brand.“Part of the reason awareness is so low is they are building a new name,” said Ross Benes, a video analyst at eMarketer. “Quibi takes time to explain. It’s not super clear that this will cost you $5 a month and you’ll get a lot of short videos.”Stay-at-home mandates have complicated the rollout, with meetings held via video conference. “Even though Zoom is great, I can’t really read the body language in the room,” Ms. Whitman said. “And that has always been an important part of how I gauge who is doing what to whom and how things are working.”Mr. Katzenberg and Ms. Whitman had an easy time making deals partly because of the terms they offer: The company pays for production costs and licensing rights, allowing anyone the creators of Quibi programs to retain copyright, meaning they can sell their work to another platform or network after a set number of years.Nicole Clemens, the president of Paramount Television, received an offer from Quibi for “When the Streetlights Go On,” a script about the aftermath of the murder of a suburban teenager that had once been shot as a Hulu pilot. “It was an incoming call,” Ms. Clemens said, “which is always nice to get.” The Quibi version will be part of the Monday launch.Writers who sign on have to follow a rule of Mr. Katzenberg’s: They must end each installment with a cliffhanger. Nick Santora, the writer of “Most Dangerous Game,” an action film starring Liam Hemsworth and Christoph Waltz, described hitting those marks as “hard but exhilarating.” To pull it off, he refashioned his 48-page pilot script, initially written for NBC, into a 150-page screenplay with a climax every 10 pages.“When you’re writing a regular script, and you need a scene to tell a certain arc in your story, and it takes 12, 13 pages, it’s no big deal,” he said. “You can’t do that in Quibi. Once you get to page 10, you’re done.”Quibi intends to set itself apart from YouTube, the leader in short-form digital video, because of its reliance on an old-fashioned Hollywood hallmark: production values. Quibi films cost up to $100,00 per minute. And Mr. Katzenberg’s long experience has taught him how to handle the talent, even as his reputation as a relentless boss holds firm.“You don’t always hear from the biggest exec at the company,” said Ryan Case, the director of “Flipped,” a comedy starring Will Forte and Kaitlin Olson. “But he called me, the writers and the cast members on a Saturday at our homes to say he was excited. It was both wonderful and classy.”Unlike Disney Plus, which gained subscribers on the strength of its “Star Wars” series, “The Mandalorian,” Quibi hopes to lure viewers with its overall lineup. “I think we have fantastic shows,” Ms. Whitman said, “but I also think it’s the sum total of what we are offering, as opposed to one ‘Mandalorian.’”The companies making a line of Quibi programming called Daily Essentials have faced the toughest challenge. Madeleine Haeringer, an NBC News executive producer, spent months assembling a 50-person team able to produce twice-daily 5- to 7-minute shows. Her job got trickier when employees were forced to work from home. A week before the start date, she delivered test episodes remotely, with anchors on iPads.“It’s incredibly daunting,” Ms. Haeringer said.Quibi’s unscripted shows bring to mind to cable fare and syndicated programs. Ms. Teigen’s “Chrissy’s Court” is the app’s answer to “Judge Judy,” and Ms. Lopez produces a show that follows celebrities as they give $100,000 to someone who meant a lot to them.Will Quibi be the next digital thing or a flop? That is the $1.8 billion question.“On the plus side, Quibi is like nothing else,” said Mr. Goodman, the media analyst. “On the other hand, while we know that there is a tremendous amount of video being consumed on phones, we also know that people don’t want to pay for video on their phones.”Mr. Katzenberg and Ms. Whitman say they will beat the odds. Noting Quibi’s debut slate of movies in chapters, Mr. Katzenberg said, “All five of those I think are great. Not good. Great.”Ms. Whitman sounded more circumspect. “This is very different from a movie launch,” she said. “We are building a new consumer product.” Read the full article

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rachelclewis · 7 years

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The Birds and the Beasts

I like running in Sugarhouse park for a number of reasons. I know that two laps plus the interior driveway into the parking lot equals one 5k. I also appreciate the difficulty. There are two good hills in the circuit – four total. It hurts but it is a good workout. I love it. Especially in spring when the baby ducks are out. The cuteness is a good distraction from the burning calves. Usually.

Recently, however, as I approached the first hill I noticed a… what? A cluck of ducks? That’s probably not right. But there were five mallards off to the right on the grassy hill, which is the wrong side of the road. The pond is in the center of the park, off to my left as I run counter-clockwise around the loop.

Something about their behavior seemed strange and I turned to watch them. There were four males and one female. If you are wondering how I know a male mallard from a female mallard, they are easy to differentiate. They are similar in shape but the males have bright green heads and with white collars where the throat starts to widen into the body. Females are slightly smaller and are mostly spotty brown but with bright blue patches on their wings.

One of the males had a splotch of white on his mostly green neck and another white blob on his body, like someone had thrown bleach on him. Or like a watercolor painting that is nearly complete but not quite. This means he is a mixed species duck – part mallard and part white duck. There is a duck like this that lives in my boyfriend’s neighborhood. We saw him one morning and I said, “We should call mutt ducks ‘mucks.’” He didn’t laugh. I reminded him that it was still early and I hadn’t had any coffee yet. “I mean I’m not saying it’s an A plus joke,” I pressed him at the time. “Clearly it’s B work. But seriously… nothing?”

I was rethinking my evaluation as I ran in the park and decide he was right. I was downgrading the joke to a C plus – B minus at best – but before I could finish the thought, the one female in the cluck made a sudden turn and darted out into the road with the three males chasing closely behind.

There was a car but it was able to stop just in time. The female kept running and crossed the road in front of me with the males closing in on her. The fastest one caught up with her as she stumbled over the curb on the pond side of the road. Before she could pull herself up onto the grass, he clamped his beak on her thin neck and twisted it awkwardly to the side as he scaled her back. The muck and the other two males gathered around, waiting their turn.

I can’t claim to have had a clear impulse to do anything in the moment. And yet I had many impulses – layers and layers of considerations that lodged in my gut like an onion swallowed whole. I spent the rest of the run peeling it and contemplating the pungent concerns as I carved deeper into it.

It certainly occurred to me – maybe a few paces down the path – that I should go back and rescue her. I could chase the males off, couldn’t I? Or would I just scatter them temporarily? Then they would resume as soon as I got back on my way, with that female or the next one they saw.

I remembered what I’ve read about duck copulation before. Specifically, I recall reading about the roughness of the males. Witnessing it was certainly more brutal than I imagined while reading about it. Still… this was “natural,” right?

Then I remembered my friend Meg telling a story about a pair of ducks rogering around the grass on the day of her wedding. I remember she was disturbed by it, but her sister had said, “no, ducks fucking are good luck!”

“Duck fuck, good luck, duck fuck, good luck…” I repeated to the rhythm of my running pace as I fought my way up hill number one. This helped for a moment, but I kept picturing the awkward angle of the ducks neck as the drake held her down, pushing her throat into the grass. And then I remembered something else that I read about ducks as I crested the hill. “What was it?” I asked my brain. “Something about the fact that the penis is corkscrew shaped? For some gawdawful reason?”

As my shoes slapped down the declining side of the hill the shock wore off and I suddenly realized that I had witnessed something intense and violent. “What is wrong with me!? Why didn’t I help her?” I yelled at myself. “What about SISTERHOOD?”

With a pang I remembered that one of the reasons I run in this park was the baby ducks. “Is there anything cuter than a baby mallard? Now I know where they come from. I guess it’s evolved that way for a reason? Corkscrew cocks and all? Otherwise, no more mallards.”

The trail was leveling out and I realized that I was justifying my inaction using the old ‘means to an ends’ trope. “Who am I? I sound like Rick Santorum, telling rape victims to ‘make the best of a bad situation.’”

I tried to banish the image of the other drakes – the slower ones – forming a jumbled and impatient line as I approached the steep raise of hill number two. That article I read didn’t say anything about gang rape. I was not prepared for that.

“I’m not heartless,” I told myself as I fought the gravity asserting its full force on my calves. “I am impartial. Like a documentary film maker. I am here to observe and learn, not to judge or intervene.” On the steepest part of the hill, my pace slowed to a run just slower than a walk and I started to lose track of where my legs ended and where the sidewalk began. “I am Sigournie Weaver,” I declared. “Narrating with my soft as suede voice as an arctic wolf gnaws on the leg of a still struggling baby caribou.”

I crested the hill but continue walking, trying to catch my breath. “Except Sigournie Weaver wasn’t actually there,” I remembered. “I am the dude who keeps filming when the shit goes down. The one I always scream at. ‘Put the camera down and throw the polar bear a damned fish! Don’t you know what climate change is doing to them?!’” I picked up speed and made my way toward the downward slope on the West side of the park.

I told myself that if the ducks were still there when I made it back to the scene of the crime I would intervene. I rounded the corner and searched the grass and the shore of the pond, but they were gone. “Maybe she got away?” I thought about her waddling at full speed out in front of the car. Was that intentional? Escape through frantic suicide?

Slogging up hill number three it occurred to me that she ran, but she didn’t fly. “Why didn’t she fly? Maybe it is all part of the mating ritual. Play hard to get but not too hard to get.” I was starting to feel better and I repeated the mantra from the previous trudge up this hill. “Duck fuck, good luck, duck fuck, good luck…” I played through the scene in my head again. “She certainly looked like she was desperate to get away, but it must not have been with a full heart, or she would have flown. Right?”

“Oh Christ,” I thought as I crested the hill. “Did I just make the duck equivalent of the ‘look what she’s wearing’ argument?” I was flying down the back of the hill, hating myself with every step.

I remembered then that I had been driving passed this same park the week before when all the traffic came to a stop for no apparent reason. Once I was close enough I saw that there was a pair of mallards in the center of the six lane street, herding a half dozen babies up the median with the female leading the parade and the male bringing up the rear. This is one of the things I love about mallards. They always seem to make such cute couples.

Another time, years ago, I was driving through another part of Sugarhouse and I saw the carcass of a female mallard to the side of the road and a male standing watch over her lifeless body. You will see this from time to time. They seem to be very devoted. I used to think monogamous, “or at least they stay partnered for the mating season?” Suddenly I wasn’t sure. “I’ll have to look that up, I guess.”

It was the last hill and I could see where this was going. I told myself to skip the scene which was obviously coming. The one where I berate myself for letting the male off the hook” because they make such cute dads, after all.”

Utah was in the news that same week because a judge had praised a former LDS bishop as a “good man” as he sentenced him to life in prison while his victims sat in the courtroom. “Great men do bad things,” he said. I was outraged when I read it in the paper.

“Not going there,” I thought. “Just, not even going to do it.” But it was too late. I felt no better – no more ‘woke’ – than that judge. I used my self-loathing as fuel to get me up the last hill and onto the flat stretch along the north side of the park. Just one more downhill and then the turn into the center of the park where my car was parked.

I finished the last stretch and I asked myself if my real problem is that I’m too disconnected from the natural world. The real one, not the artificial landscaped park meant to look something like nature that I conveniently touch base with on my lunch breaks. It isn’t the same thing, despite the occasional wild encounter. “Has urban living made me so soft that I cannot bear witness the brutality of the real world? Or has it made me too hard in some way? Has my voracious consumption of liberal punditry turned me into a habitual moralizer, constantly monitoring of my thoughts for traces of ignorance, and leaving me unable to make sense of what is around me without anthropomorphizing?”

I dug the key to my Toyota out of my sweaty sports bra and I flopped down into the driver’s seat. It was the most exhausting three miles I have ever run.

“I am a bad person, a bad feminist, and I will never look at a baby duck the same way again. Fuzzy little fuckers.”

I turned the key and steered my car onto the park road. There was one thing I did feel I understood as I worked my way back around the loop toward the exit. “The next time I am yelling at a nature show because the photographer is so cold hearted as to just stand there and film while the wild dogs surround the limpy gazelle, I will remember this outing in the park and I will tell myself to go to hell.”

#�\�Nwr

#blog #humor #mallard #running #birdwatching

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