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nev3rfound · 5 years

Text

two of a kind : b.b

brief summary: bucky becomes enticed by a ballerina who he’s more alike than he may think

requested: nope, it was just an idea I went with word count: 2.2k warnings: none that I’m aware of

* requests are open if you have any ideas, feel free to drop ‘em in my inbox or message me. *

Bucky sighed loudly as Steve convinced him to get out of the compound, see a bit of the city he once called a home that now has never felt so foreign to him.

“Why couldn’t we just train instead?” Bucky grumbles as Steve glances to his friend, clearly unimpressed by his statement.

“Because Bucky, you gotta adapt whether you like it or not. I’m introducing you to new culture, something you might learn to love.” Steve motions to a large building with a poster that covers an entire wall, The Swan Lake.

Raising his eyebrow to his friend Bucky shakes his head. “Like we’re seeing a ballet.”

Steve sighs, “Natasha got the tickets. Her friend’s a performer.”

Bucky remains quiet, silently refusing to attend despite a ticket already having his name on it waiting for him to take. “Could you imagine seeing me sat through a ballet performance, Steve?” Bucky asks and a smile appears on Steve’s face at the eventful evening awaiting them.

Patting his arm lightly the two of them continue walking down the street as Steve talks about the show they’ll be seeing, but something catches Bucky’s eye.

It was almost a split second of seeing someone in through a window. She was twirling, elegantly making her way around the space she had as her eyes remained tightly shut, hair slicked back.

He knew at that moment he wanted to know the young woman as she turned her back, placing her feet flat on the ground, but before she could turn her head Steve snapped him out of his trance.

“You still in there?” Steve asks as Bucky clears his throat, glancing back to see her shoe slip out of the door, leaving the room in front of the window empty.

Slumping into the chair Bucky pulled at his tie, clearly uncomfortable in the tux Steve insisted he wore for such an event.

The velvet curtains remained covering the stage as spotlights already positioned awaited the performance like everyone in their finery. “She’s going to be amazing, it’s almost unbelievable how far she's come.” Natasha tells Steve as he places his hand on her forearm, rubbing it softly.

“What’d you mean?” Bucky peers over Steve to ask Natasha who raises her eyebrow to Steve.

“You didn’t tell him?” She sighs as Steve stutters, leaving Bucky waiting.

As Natasha goes to explain the orchestra begins, cutting her off before she has the chance to tell him that he’s not as alone as he may think.

Everything that was itching away at Bucky melted away as the show began, the gentle music as the dancers emerged, slowly telling a story through movement. He was in a trance as the woman emerged in a white dress, it was delicate, she was the swan. Her movements resembled nothing but beauty, the way she extended her fingertips as she passed the Prince, someone Bucky wished to be in that moment.

He wasn’t even aware he was leaning forward until it was the interval and the lights rose as a series of people got up, heading to purchase food and drink. “Enjoying it, Bucky?” Natasha speaks up as a smile plays on Bucky’s lips thinking about the swan.

“She’s somethin’ else.” He states, not catching the look exchanged between Natasha and Steve. “She famous? I mean, she must be with that kinda talent.” He gushes, continuing to speak up about her precise movements, the use of her body in a sensual delicate manner. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Steve lowers his head, realising just how much Bucky has missed out on. He’s never seen or even been to a real dance, not like the ones they went to as kids. This was a whole other world to him, one he didn’t even know he’d missed.

“She’s just a dancer, Buck.” Steve shrugs his shoulders as he turns to Natasha. “Never know, might get to meet her after the show.”

A slight nudge in his metal arm causes Bucky to tense. The thought of meeting someone so angelic wasn’t a steady concept. He was too harsh, too strong to be around someone like that who oozed beauty whilst he lived in a world of pain and personal torment.

As the performance resumed Steve couldn’t take his focus from his friend, the way his mouth remained ajar as a smile formed on his face, something he hadn’t seen truly in a long time. Bucky was in a trance with her, as she was oblivious to the hundreds of eyes focusing her, but he wished he was one she would notice.

Placing his hand on Natasha’s, Steve motions for her to take a look at the sight.

Averting her eyes from the stage she can’t believe what she’s witnessing. Bucky Barnes was in complete awe of her, of Odette.

It was over too soon for Bucky’s liking, despite having sat down for hours it felt like mere minutes. He was one of the first to his feet, applauding the entire cast, but especially her as she bowed.

The Orchestra finished the closing song and the velvet curtains returned to their original position. Slowly everyone began to exit the Theatre, but Bucky was still sat down, picturing her all over again as she twirled around the stage.

“Buck?” Steve speaks up and Bucky sighs before rising to his feet. “We’re just heading backstage to meet Natasha’s friend, wanna join?”

Relectunatley he agreed as they departed the Theatre, heading out of the main entrance before turning down the side of an alleyway as the conversations and buzz of the performance had died down. Bucky kept his head low, thinking he’ll never get to see her again, she’ll probably be hidden away in some dressing room with the Prince whilst he sits quietly being nothing more than a member of the audience to her.

The door swings open and Natasha laughs. “Oh my gosh, you were incredible!” She cheers as the four of them walk inside, Bucky hanging back from the three others as the sigh of silk shoes and pieces of costumes pass his gaze.

“So, Steve, Bucky, this is my old friend, Y/n.” He lifts his head up, simply to be polite, but he freezes as she smiles.

It was her, the Swan, Odette. She was you.

You stand up, brushing your costume down before Steve brings you into a warm hug as you remain in your ballet shoes causing Bucky to silently wince. “It’s lovely to meet the name behind the ballerina.” Steve jokes and you laugh lightly, a sound that Bucky can feel etching its way through his soul, the warmth that flows through it as he takes it in.

“Hi Bucky,” You’re now stood in front of him, a small smile plastered on your face as he rises to his feet, clearing his throat. Unsure of himself he tries to smile which results in more of a nervous grimace. “thanks for coming to the show, I hope it wasn’t too boring.” You joke and Bucky shakes his head repeatedly.

“Oh, it was far from boring, doll.” The words slip off of his tongue effortlessly and behind you, Steve and Natasha share a knowing look. “You were,” He lets out a small sigh. “somethin’ else.”

Bucky raises his head to meet your eyes as he spies a blush rising beneath your makeup. “Why didn’t you mention Bucky sooner, Nat? He’s a real charmer.” You turn to Natasha, nudging her lightly as she leans into Steve, a warm smile on her face. “Well, I better get changed. As much as I’d love to sit and chat I have to get my leg checked.” You towards the exit before pausing, leaving Bucky with a glimmer of hope before you vanish for good. “It was lovely meeting you guys.”

“Pleasure was all ours, doll.” Bucky states as you smile before walking out of the door, leaving him truly speechless before two of his friends who simply give him a look. “What?” He asks as they shake their heads in disbelief.

“Who knew you had it in you, Buck.” Steve scoffs as he heads out of the door.

Natasha goes to follow but pauses before Bucky. “She’ll be in dressing room nine. Just, be nice okay?” She pats his chest lightly, straightening his tie. “If you hurt her,” Her grip tightens on his tie, almost choking him as he swallows forcefully.

“Loud and clear, Romanoff.” Bucky sputters as Natasha smiles, releasing her tight hold.

As he stands alone in the room he releases a shaky breath before walking down the corridor, directly towards dressing room nine labelled loud and clear for him to see.

Hesitantly he lifts his fist up to knock, and the sound of your delicate voice makes his heart skip a beat. “Hold on a sec!” You yell through the door as he hears some struggle before it opens. “Oh,” You raise your eyebrow, surprised to see him stood before you. “hey Bucky.”

“H,Hi.” He stutters, silently swearing for his nerves. “I just wanted to say to you that what you’re doing is truly a work of art.”

You let out a small laugh out of nervousness. Someone like Bucky wasn’t exactly your normal audience, let alone critic. Moving aside from the door Bucky can see you’re limping. “Come on in.” You motion as he steps inside and as his head turns his eyes widen at the sight before him.

Immediately his eyes zone in on it, it’s hard not to. But he snaps his eyes away, back to yours. “Sorry, it’s rude to stare. I, I just never expected it.” He rubs his face, shaking his head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned anything I erm.” Stuttering you move towards him, placing your hand on his shoulder.

“It’s alright, Bucky. I don’t mind it really.” You shrug your shoulders as you perch on the stool by the dressing table. “When I was a kid I had bone cancer, they amputated just below the knee.” You place your hand on the healed spot where the scars are still evident after all these years, the pain now nonexistent.

“But you can still dance?” He asks quietly as you nod in response. “It’s so beautiful, so effortless but you’re working harder than the rest?”

“Not really,” You state as you stand up, reaching over for your prosthetic leg. “this is part of me, has been for most of my life. When I’m in my ballet shoes it feels right, it isn’t so much an extension of me, it is me.” He listens intently as you explain more about it, the way you explain it with no fears or worries. “I’ve learnt to appreciate how lucky I am, and that I can still do what I love thanks to it.”

He smiles to himself before lifting his flesh hand up, resting it on the sleeve covering his metal arm. “I guess we’re not so different after all.” He mutters as you raise an eyebrow to him. “I erm, my arm is made of metal.”

It surprises him, the reaction you have. You’re not afraid. Instead, you rise to your feet until you’re stood in front of him as he slips his jacket off and unbuttons his shirt.

Bucky is aware of his heart beating faster, standing before you shirtless. But he can tell you don’t mind as your eyes fixate on the scarring joining his arm to the metal. “Can I?” You lift your fingertips and he nods.

A cold shiver spirals through his bones as your fingertips glide along the scars before you feel along the metal, how perfectly it forms together like a normal arm would. “This is amazing.” You mumble as you lift your eyes up to his as he is unable to ignore the glimmer in your eyes of curiosity. “I mean, it truly is a work of art.”

“Don’t think anyone has ever called it that.” He scoffs lightly before slipping his shirt back on whilst you remain a close distance to him.

“They should, Bucky.” You softly tell him as you lick your lips, causing his heart to push through his chest into yours. “Because that isn’t something you see every day, that is something to be proud of. We all have our battle scars, but it’s what we do with them that matters.” Your words bury themselves into his memory, not wanting this moment to end as you smile up at him.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispers to you, meaning it in every single sense, even if it were too soon for him to say such a thing. “Would you like to go for dinner sometime?”

You smile up at him before nodding. “I’d love to, Bucky.”

As you two sit in your dressing room, talking like old friends Steve and Natasha are on their way back to the tower, discussing the two of you. “How’d you know they’d be the perfect match?” Steve asks Natasha as she links her arm into him, leaning against his arm.

“Because Y/n is a healer, she wants everyone to know how much they matter and more importantly, how beautiful she thinks they really are.” Natasha smiles to herself as she sighs quietly. “Y/n needs someone like Bucky in her life, and I think Bucky needs her more than he’ll care to admit.”

“Just you wait, Nat. We’ll see Bucky on stage performing in the background.” Steve chuckles to himself, picturing his friend attempting to dance.

“Yeah, as a tree.” Natasha bluntly states before laughing, the two of them knowing how things would work out, knowing you two couldn’t be a better match, two of a kind.

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tiggyloo · 4 years

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💝

If you could recommend skylanders to others what would be your points of persuasion?

Every game’s starter pack provides the barest essentials to beat the game. You could buy the starter pack and literally nothing else and you could beat the games, it’s only if you want to 100% them where you’ll have to start spending more money

Every single character, of which there are a few hundred (about 350 if you include variants), has a unique walk, run, jump, and attack animation. Every single one. I have literally never seen that before in ANY game. And I can promise you that there are no reused animations in non-custom* characters because I have like, over 200 figures

*Imaginators reuses animations for player created characters in that each class has its own animations, so two custom characters of the Sentinel class would have the same general animations, but one Sentinel and one Brawler would have their own class specific animations, etc.

The designs of the characters are all really good and unique (even the bad designs are still good) and you can put little hats and trinkets on your characters which is really cute and fun

You only need to buy one Portal for all your games and it’s the Superchargers Portal, it works for every single game, even the very first. Also, if the character existed in an older game your newer gen figure will work in it. Example: my dark Stealth Elf, introduced in the third game, works in the first game as a normal Stealth Elf. Which is good because I have like seven Stealth Elfs. I don’t know why.

Also, on the topic of custom characters, Imaginators has one of the absolute best character creation engines I’ve EVER seen. You can make some awesome looking characters, or some really hilarious ones with proportions fucked to hell and back, all with custom palettes and weapons and armor. And it’s easy to collect the pieces too, you can just run the first level of the game and get most of them pretty quickly

The music is REALLY GOOD, and it only gets better throughout the games. Kaos’ theme is especially fantastic, here give it a listen (this is s compilation of his theme from all the games) or if you want a shorter one, here’s his theme from Imaginators complete with Dubstep breakdown, or his Trap Team theme, which is pretty fun (and is probably my favorite version of his theme)

Also, all the games are REAL cheap now (like legit the highest they go for usually is like. MAYBE four bucks unless you want Imaginators on Switch), as are most of the figures, so honestly just get them and try ‘em out. Just be sure to grab a Portal too.

And if you only get ONE game, PLEASE get Superchargers. It’s THE best game out of the series, I had a fucking blast playing it (as I did with all the games but that’s beside the point) and my friend who absolutely despised Skylanders played it with me and he loved every minute of it.

Or, pick Imaginators if not Superchargers. You can play as Cortex and Crash in Imaginators, or you can make your own characters as I mentioned above once you get some Creation Crystals. For examples of what you can make, here’s just a few of mine:

That’s Pink Lightning (bowslinger), Essence of the Stars (sentinel), Prince Horace III (knight), and Sullivan of Ire (smasher)

You can make custom color palettes or use premades (I always use my own), you can pick their voice, sound effects, etc, mess with sizes and proportions of things, it’s great

And if you get Superchargers on a Nintendo console you can play as Bowser or Donkey Kong which is amazing

anyway it’s like almost 10 PM and I gotta shower, so count yourself lucky because I could go on for HOURS about why you should play these games

#skylanders #I just really really love these games #Anon

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writersmacchiato · 5 years

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Real | Joe Toye x Reader

A/N: this is angst, but there is fluff sprinkled throughout :)

um hi i wtChed the breaking point again and I almost cried like five times I have a lot of feelings about it

_____

Joe Toye.

Just the mention of his name made you want to slap, kiss him, and scream all at the same time.

It started in Toccoa.

Training as a field nurse, you had little time to think about anything else. You had to work twice as hard as the men just to be considered capable, but when you were transferred to Easy company it was a blessing in disguise. Sobel was awful, his feelings of superiority masked his insecurities that he took out on the men. To you especially was he harsh, screaming in your face while you never bat an eye. The men grew to respect you on that alone.

Joe Toye came to you on a quiet evening after another vigorous climb up Currahee. His hand is scratched up, bleeding at the knuckles. You don’t ask why and he doesn’t offer an explanation, a gruff “thanks” after you clean him up before he stalks away.

This becomes a re-occurrence, over and over, Toye coming to you with minor injuries insisting that you had to look at them. Another one of the nurses tells you that he came in earlier but you were gone, so he left untreated. It warms your heart.

One day he comes in with those knuckles that always seem to be covered in blood.

“It’s not mine.” He assures you, as if that will give you comfort.

“Well, I’d hate to see the other guy.”

He smirks, “he’s okay. Just knocked him on his ass.”

You shake your head, pursing your lips. Grabbing a cloth with ice in it, you gently place it over his hands, holding his palm against yours. If you had glanced up you would’ve seen his cheeks flushing cheek.

“He said some shit about you, so I put him in his place.” Joe says as he’s grabbing his jacket.

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

“Can’t have nobody messin’ with my favorite nurse, can I?”

Before you can formulate a response, he’s already out of the room, leaving you with warm cheeks and a racing heart.

After that night, he comes by more often just to see you. The injuries are not as frequent now and he just talks to you. Usually asking questions and listening to you talk, eyes focused on you entirely. Sometimes he just sits in the room, wanting your comfortable silence.

You come to realize that Joe Toye is many things and you might be falling in love with him.

Joe Toye kisses you the night before you’re shipped out to Europe.

The guys are having one last night in the states, drinking till they pass out. Laughter spills out of the bar, the lights casting shadows on your face. You had been in there with them, but slipped out shortly.

“Hey.”

Joe comes out to stand next to you, folding his arms as he looks up at the sky.

“Europe, huh?” You break the silence, toying with your dog tags to hide the nerves you felt.

“Never been before.”

“Me either.”

“Joe—“

“Hey, sweetheart.”

His voice is gruff, well gruffer than usual, as he drags out a puff of his cigarette.

“You’re my best girl, you know that?”

Scratch that, Joe Toye makes you fall for him with a smug look and a soft kiss that has you pulling him in for more. It tumbles out of control, his hands gripped firmly on your hips with every intention of wandering further. The grip you have on his hair has to be painful, especially when you tug on it, but it has him groaning and bucking his hips against yours.

Joe Toye stays away after that and you want to kill him for taking something like that away from you and treating it so poorly.

You go off on him, startling an elderly couple and you profusely apologize. They hurry away, glancing back at you with worried expressions, praying for your sanity most likely. Joe has an amused glint in his eyes when you whirl around, quickly dropping at the infuriated look on your face.

“You’re a real asshole, Joe Toye.” You spit out the words, feeling the coursing hot anger sweep through your veins and winding its ugly head back venomously.

He narrows his eyes, but remains silent. Arms crossed, muscles bulging out against the simple short sleeve he wears. You hate that even now your anger is cooling, leaving nothing but hurt and embarrassment in its wake.

“If this was all just some fucked up game to you, why didn’t you just say so?” Tears prickle at yours eyes and with a huff, you turn away refusing to let him see you cry.

He hurt you, and yet you still loved him.

Gravel crunched underneath his shoes as he stands behind you, hand grabbing for your hand to pull you close to him. His arms settle around your waist, nose burying in your hair.

“It was never a game, sweetheart.”

That goddamn nickname.

“I love you and that scares me.”

“Why?” You whisper, eyes falling shut.

With his hands cupping your cheeks, he mutters four words that break your heart while building it up at the same time.

“I could lose you.”

Those words echo in your mind; a constant reminder that you had to stay alive, keep going, surviving for him — because you’d be damned before you ever broke his heart. Through the battles, gunfire, bombs, sharpened, the blood, oh god the blood, those three words keep you sane.

“I love you.”

As you stitch up a solider’s wound, locking eyes with Doc and knowing that resources are running low.

“I love you.”

When a solider, so many, too many, die under your hands.

“I love you.”

The gunfire is loud, deafening, you can’t hear anything, only Joe’s repeated ‘I love you’ over and over until the coast is clear and you’re running back out there at the cry of ‘medic!’.

Everything; every moment, every wound, every breath, chips away at you until you’re struggling to even lift yourself up. His arms hold you, then in those moments, shielding you the best he can and offering temporary protection.

He grounds you.

The earth is shaking, literally shaking, as you cower in a foxhole. It’s like fireworks, so morbidly beautiful, and yet it’s taking out so many men, the knowledge squeezes your heart so tight you’re sure that it’ll give it out, until you remember ‘I love you’ and the world stills.

The cries for medic are faint and too far away, drifting off as another explosion rocks the ground. But, you hear it. Always. Him, always, his voice calling out for you.

The trail of blood is striking against the stark white snow, it leads to Joe Toye. With half his leg blown off. Bill Guarnere lays besides him, own leg in no better condition.

Joe meets your eyes and all you see is the pain and terror, it kills you. Hands fumble with gauze and bandage, Doc comes to a stumbling stop next to you. His hands are quicker than yours, wrapping up Joe’s stump and slowing the blood flow.

Joe is pleading, “I gotta get up.”, over and over, voice broken over his cries.

“Y/N, I gotta get up.” He pleads, hand latching onto your sleeve. “I gotta...”

“I love you.” can’t fix this.

Captain Winters pulls you off the line immediately after hearing the report from Lipton and seeing your state.

It tore you up seeing Joe like that. And, it wasn’t even just him. It was everything. The wounded and the dead count was too high. Bastogne was breaking the last bit of resolve you had and without Joe there to steady you, it was only a matter of time before you crumbled.

They refuse to let you see him. You scream, cry, and almost punch before Doc is pulling you away.

“Gotta give em’ time.”

Gene waits with you, for as long as he can, holding your hand in his. No words are passed as you both process the events from the bombings. His hand gives yours one last squeeze before he stands up.

“Thank you, Gene.”

He twists his mouth and nods, before walking away.

Two whole days pass before they let you into the room where Joe Toye is. Bill Guarnere is in the bed next to him, they’re arguing about something when you walk up. Bill sees you first, face lighting up.

“Bout’ time we saw a pretty face around here, ain’t it Joe?” He teases.

“Shut up.” He scoffs, but a smile is playing at his lips.

It was the typical banter between them, nothing changing. Only where the blanket dipped down on his right leg, the emptiness behind his eyes.

“How are you doin’, Joe?” You sit on the edge of his bed, grabbing his hand.

“I’ll give you some privacy...” Bill mutters, fluffing his pillow and blocking his peripheral with it to where he can’t see you.

“Just peachy.” He huffs, looking past you.

There are so many things you want to say, lip trembling as the reality of the situation crashed over you. A sob escapes you and Joe quickly has his arms wrapped you tightly.

“I’m sorry—“ you whisper, “I can’t.”

He tenses beneath you, pulling away.

“I almost lost you, Joe. I just can’t lose you.”

Joe Toye goes home to the states before you do.

He writes you letters and you respond when you can, but it’s sporadic correspondence.

The war drags on, many soldiers lost as victories are fought for viciously, your hope of it ending diminishing with each day. You expect to die, but then just as you’re tipping over the edge into the darkness you hear it.

“I love you.”

And, you keep on fighting.

When the war ends, you almost don’t believe it, but all you can think about is Joe Toye. His mailing address is hundreds of miles away from your hometown, but you buy a ticket anyway.

Joe Toye is sitting on his front porch when you arrive at his house.

The sun is setting, casting a warm glow on his face. His eyes drink in the sight of you; you’re different now, but so is he. The war took something from both of you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The words are rasped, forced out, as he tries and fails not to cry.

It breaks the trance that had locked over you, rushing up the steps to hug him. You collapse onto him, hands grasping for any part of him that you can. He’s alive, he’s okay, you’re alive, you’re okay. This is real, it’s real,

This is real.

It becomes a mantra that you repeat to yourself every night and every morning as he lays next to you in bed, arm over your waist. His kisses are soft, desperate, bruising, it’s real.

He whispers the words to you when the world is collapsing around you, it’s real, you’re home with him — safe.

When tears gather in your eyes as your child paddles around the room unsteadily, a shake in his voice.

“This is real.”

_____

@kneesocksapollo @croatianbagudna @gottapenny

#joe toye x reader #joe toye imagine #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #bob x reader #bob imagine #joe toye #band of brothers #bob #soft boy with a knife

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neshabeingchildish · 4 years

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WEEK ONE: CHARACTERS 1/08 | Jasper Dunlop

I decided to share my favorite piece from a fic that I’ve written about Jasper. It’s an excerpt/flashback sequence from Determined: A Chasper Fic where I establish a headcanon for Jasper that I bring everywhere with me now, unless something else specifically happens. It’s about buckets, but sad. I was gonna do one of my Jasper headcanons thingies... Maybe another time. :)

And the FCs for these unknown/other characters are HERE. Did not select a Bilsky dad.

Whenever Jasper's dad popped the question to his mom, she was just about visibly pregnant, embarrassed about it and desperate to do this the right way. Jack Leigh was desperate to "fix his mistakes" and "make an honest woman out of her." Oh, and also drunk. So drunk, that he didn't know if he was coming or going. He needed the liquid courage to go back to her after she'd told him that if she had to do this on her own, she would. She didn't have to do it on her own! At least, he didn't want her to. He couldn't figure out where he'd get a ring at this time of night, but came across one of those Bilsky brothers. The whole family was a bag of rotten apples. One of them had to know a guy… Hell, one of them WAS the guy. "A ring? Yeah, I got rings. What's your budget?" Jack Leigh emptied his pockets and had maybe a few hundred bucks, and a punch card. He shook his head and called, "Jeff! Get Daddy that box of rings! The cheap ones!" A teenage boy rushed to… of all places… the BBQ pit and lifted the lid and grabbed a box. Daddy Bilsky gave it to his old buddy and said, "I'll letcha grab two of 'em. I hear you gotta get two. My old lady and I got hitched on the run, so we never even got one of them, but I've collected her plenty over the years. She don't notice when the cheap ones go missing." Jack Leigh didn't even shift through the box. He grabbed a couple, waved to them and went on his way.

Jeff came back to his father and asked, "Dad, how mad would you be if I think I gave you the good stuff?" Jack Leigh heard Daddy Bilsky fussing at his kid, but he was too out of it to hear what he was saying.

Whenever Pansy left, Jack Leigh got one of those rings back. She threw the wedding ring right at his head and slammed the door as hard as she could with a baby on her waist. He was too drunk to care about whatever she'd said, too. He was often that way, but he did come across that ring again when he was clearing out of that little place. He tossed it in his pocket, in case he ever wanted to pawn it. Might be cheap, but he could probably get a few beers for it. It stayed in his wallet most of the time, though. He couldn't see Jasper back then… legal stuff that he totally understood at the time, but whenever he would look at the ring and think about hocking it, he'd think about his baby boy, out there… The one that he'd even bought the stupid thing for. He couldn't seem to part with it. Not because he missed his wife, but because he took a wife because he was going to be a father, and nobody but him messed that up. It was a reminder that he needed to get clean and needed to straighten up. Maybe some day, he could see Jasper again. Maybe someday, he'd give him this stupid ring. He got it appraised, just to see if it was worth anything. Because he was curious if the sentimental value of it would even mean anything to the kid… this was maybe 3 years later. The damn thing was worth more than his crummy life. He could literally sell it and probably wind up getting himself out of his debt! But… looking at the thing, listening to the guy talk to him, very suspicious that this shady character probably stole this from some place, and was likely gonna put out an alert about it… Jack Leigh thanked him for his time and put it back into his wallet. He hadn't gotten completely clean, but that was sobering. He knew he had to keep it together, carrying something worth that much with him, especially considering that it was worth even more in sentimental value.

He met Jasper when he was four. Adorable chubby kid with dimples and curly hair. He was excited to meet him and told him everything that he could possibly tell him. Jack Leigh came to a realization whenever Pansy told him that he could come to see him… He'd messed up. He should have had a room FULL of gifts and cards and money that he never got a chance to deliver over the past four years. He should have had candy and cookies and really… fanfare. All he had was that ring and he certainly couldn't hand him that at age 4. He stopped at one of those weird gas station gift shops and said, "Anything for like a 4 year old kid… I don't even know what he likes!"

"We got grab buckets," she said and pointed towards a display. It was like a grab bag, but in a bucket. All kinds of little toys and stuff that would most likely break and stuff if it wasn't a choke hazard. Hopefully, Pansy wouldn't kill him. He went over there with a bucket of junk and threw in a hundred dollar bill that he got back after this purchase. Pansy was judging him from the moment that he handed that garbage to her son. But, the kid was excited, "WOW! A BUCKET!"

"Uhhh… there's stuff in it. Toys and stuff," Jack Leigh said. Jasper got onto his tiptoes, but Jack kneeled in front of him, seeing his features for the first time since he was an infant. Seeing how much like his own childhood photos he looked. Pansy must've seen it too. There was something about the way that she looked at the kid. Jack Leigh didn't like it, but who was he to judge? He hadn't even been around.

"Jasper, I don't think that any of that stuff is safe to play with!" She said and snatched the bucket from his little hands. He jumped, frightened and Jack Leigh noticed and reached for his hand, to try to give him some comfort. He was about to cry. She was taking away the only thing his daddy had given him…

"Well, can't he at least have the bucket?" Jack Leigh asked.

She looked at him like he was an idiot. "He's four. Why would he want this ugly big bucket?"

"I do want the bucket, Mom! I love it. It's a nice bucket, Daddy." She looked bothered. She dumped the toys in the garbage and handed him the bucket back, then went to sit down, and glare at them. Jasper didn't really look in her direction during the visit, but Jack Leigh wondered if he couldn't feel the same… whatever it was that she had radiating for him that he felt from her. He was allowed a few more visits, until he showed up with Adanna one day. Pansy stepped outside and interrogated her, then said that Jasper wouldn't be coming for any more of these "disappointing little visits," and sprinkled on at the end, "And I WILL be contacting you about child support!" That was that.

Adanna convinced him to fight for custody, at least shared. He had gotten his life together and he shouldn't have to be punished forever. There were disputes, but after a while, he ran out of money for that fight and her husband didn't. So, not only could he still not see Jasper, and had legal fees, but… child support. He couldn't do it. He'd already gotten so low, that he went back to some of his old ways. He was lucky to have Adanna around. Eventually thought about giving her the ring, but explained to her why he didn't think that he could. "Can I at least see it?" she wondered.

He pulled it out and she was already uneasy. He handed it to her and she cried, "I'm glad that you don't want to give this to me, because it's full of negative energy. Guilt, despair, regret, heartache… This isn't something that you give to someone that you care about."

"Should I get rid of it? Sell it? I'm probably never going to see my son again…"

"Even if you see him, he can't have this, Jack Leigh. It's got a signature on it."

"Is there a way to fix it?"

She cleansed the ring and once she was done, she smiled at it and said, "This ring has new hope. It wants to find someone to love, but it feels like it belongs to someone."

"Who?"

"I don't know, but I sense that this ring wouldn't be at home with me." She reached out to give it to him, but he shook his head.

"If you hand it to me, it'll just absorb my negative energy again. You hold on to it for me. If I don't give it to Jasper, I guess it'll find its way to whoever. I want it to find them in peace."

Jasper, Charlotte, and Henry were sitting on the floor, talking about their readings. Henry was shaken up by his, but Jasper kept staring at the Fool. Adanna said, "Jasper, can I show you something?" He got up and followed her through some crystal beaded curtains to a cute little room, where she climbed up a step ladder and got a ring box off of her bookshelf. "Jack Leigh told you about this, right? When you two talked?" She stepped down and opened the box to show him a ring and his heart leaped in his chest.

"Is this my mom's wedding ring that she threw at his head? I've heard about it from her! She'd say, if I'd been more smart than mad, I'd have pawned that for the child support! Can I touch it?" She handed it to him and told him the story, because obviously, Jack Leigh had been more focused on the drinking, the fighting and the accident. Jasper gasped and said, "You think that this ring belongs with me?"

"I think that it belongs with her," she said and glanced at Charlotte through the beads. Charlotte was laughing a melodious laugh at a story that Uncle Roscoe was telling on speaker phone, while catching up with Jack Leigh. "I think that she'll love it, when you're ready." She cupped his chin and lovingly said, "Fool."

#Henry Danger #henrydangermonth #characters #Jasper Dunlop

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thedeaditeslayer · 5 years

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Q&A with Bruce Campbell: He’ll host his ‘Last Fan Standing’ at ECON on Saturday.

Here’s an interview from last week that we here at TDS recommend to Bruce Campbell and Evil Dead fans.

The fourth-ever EUCON: Eugene Comic Con is just around the corner, and this year it’s going to be bigger than ever, full of fresh programming and infused with new direction and energy, says artistic director Zachary Davis.

The pop-culture convention is under new management from Davis and his team at Imagination International, Inc., and they’ve wrangled a host of local, indie and big-name artists and celebrities, including actor, writer and director Bruce Campbell and his traveling game show, “Last Fan Standing.” Campbell is best known for his character Ash Williams in Sam Raimi’s “The Evil Dead” movie series, which thrust him onto the Hollywood scene in 1981.

“I want to see what Eugene’s all about as far as comic cons go. It’ll be a whole new experience,” Campbell told The Register-Guard. “I’ve only done Portland. Comic cons are the new rage now.”

Ash and “The Evil Dead” have garnered a cult following, and Campbell’s lengthy career has taken him from B-horror movies and Syfy channel movies, to recurring roles in popular ’90s TV series such as “Hercules: The Legendary Journey” and “Xena: Warrior Princess,” to roles in all three of Raimi’s blockbuster “Spiderman” movies, and a co-starring role in USA’s seven-season TV show, “Burn Notice.” He’s authored three books and is now hosting a pop-culture trivia game show, which will be played on Saturday at EUCON.

The Register-Guard interviewed Campbell by phone Tuesday from his home in Jacksonville about life in the Oregon countryside, finally laying to rest his Ash character with the cancellation of TV series “Ash v. Evil Dead,” and his pursuits as a writer, a game show host and actor. The interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Bruce Campbell: Twenty years this year. My primary residence has been Oregon for 20 years — not that I was here that much, but when I’m home this is it.

RG: Why did you choose Oregon?

B.C.: A lot of reasons. My mother dabbled in real estate in this area — she sort of retired with her husband in this area, and so I came up to visit and she faxed me some places to look around — back in the day of faxes — and this is about the third, fourth place we saw out in the country, and just the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

It’s mountain scenery and isolation and quiet. You don’t get that when you live in Los Angeles, you know. You go to work, everything’s crazy and noisy, and then you come back to L.A. everything’s crazy and noisy — there was no break. When I look out my window here, there’s nothing. There’s no lights on the mountain. There’s no noise, there’s no traffic.

We’ve been invaded by the pot growers now. We’ve gone from beer and meth as the local standbys, to weed and wine. So we’re stepping up. People with weed and wine have cash, and they tend to stimulate the local economy more than people who drink beer and do meth, with all due respect to our meth heads. Stoners don’t tend to go out and beat people up.

RG: Do you have any weird or strange stories to share about living in the country?

BC: Of course. The best reference I can tell you is my third book, “Hail to the Chin, the Further Confessions.” There’s chapters all about moving from L.A. to here — there’s all kinds of car crashes and drama and serving on jury duty. It’s a lot of simple pleasures.

’Cause my daughter is a California kid — born in Michigan, but raised in California — she came up here to visit. We did some errands, and we park at the bank, right in the lot. Go inside, there’s two guys in line — hey Joe, hey Ken — saying hi to the tellers, no ghetto glass — go outside, you gotta go to ... a place that’s usually busy, park right out front, go in, get our stuff and leave. She’s like, “So is that how it works in this town — you just sort of do stuff, and it happens?” It’s like “Yeah,” because when you’re not completely and utterly overcrowded, this is what life can be like. It’s kinda nice.

So I’ll actually never go back to civilization. Because my idea of civilization is the 24-hour available little toilets in my little town of Jacksonville. That’s how you know your town is livable. When they trust their citizens enough to have (those public bathrooms). Jacksonville is my last stop before I head out into the country, and sometimes those bathrooms are really handy. You know, lousy weather and strange times of night, you stop in there, heated, that tells me that the town trusts me enough to not totally destroy it every time I use.

But now Portland, I don’t think they have those.

RG: Now that “Ash v. Evil Dead” is officially cancelled, how do you feel about finally letting Ash go?

BC: Good. I’ve retired him. I’ve officially retired from playing that role — never done that with a character before. It feels great because it’s time to move on. I physically kind of got to the point where I can’t do that guy anymore. Hamstrings tear and they stretch, your eyes go your hearing goes, everything goes eventually. So I think it’s time to do game shows, you know? Time to put the chainsaw down — I’m a 60 year old man.

RG: Can you tell me a little bit about your game show?

BC: It is “Last Fan Standing” It is a game show for geeks. We’re going to ask how much does Thor’s hammer weigh? It’s not about history or geography, you don’t have to add a “what is” to the beginning of your answer. You just answer. And everybody plays. Everybody who walks in that door can take it on because they’re each given a voting device. (There’s) about 15 early questions ... and they vote. At the end we tally who’s got the best scores, we pick that clicker number and they’re up and running. We do two rounds of that, cook it down to two winners of each round, and then we do a seven question sort of battle to the death and somebody walks out of there with an amazing gift, which I can’t reveal. It’s too amazing.

RG: Why do you like being the host? Is it fun for you? Is it work? Is it both?

BC: No, I like tormenting people! You find out where they’re from, what these people do. We’ve had school teachers, students, college professors, tattoo artists. It’s really anybody from any walk of life, men, women, we’ve had some younger folks, so it’s been really fun taking it around to conventions and testing it out. So what we started doing this year was booking it in an actual theater like a performance arts venue, 400 or 500 seats and just doing it that way, like it’s an evening show. It’s a two-hour evening show, people realize they can have a lot of fun they can interact they can shout and holler because if our panelist can’t get the question — you’d be surprised how often they can’t even though they got up there — we throw ’em out to the audience, and I give out autographed “Bruce Bucks,” that’s fake dollar bills. Fake hundreds. So they still play, everybody plays. We’ve had some people come up, they got in the second round too. So it’s kinda crazy.

There’s come-from-behind wins the way it’s structured. My partner Steve Sellery, he’s the guy that first introduced me to this format, but ... he was doing it for military bases, it was all military trivia. I went to host a show for him so I said, “Hey, this format could work in my world.” It was really fun, these soldiers were all shouting at each other, and it was very competitive. I thought, “Man, you could do the same thing.” Three years ago, Steve called me up to see if I would host this charity show for the troops at the Fort Sam Houston base in San Antonio, Texas. And it was great. We had 600 soldiers, forced attendance, all in uniform. And this game just blew the doors off — these guys were acting like regular civilians by the end.

So we experimented there and I thought it could be taken elsewhere, and so we’ve been shopping it around, and eventually I’m going to try to get it made as an actual real TV show.

RG: So we might actually see it on air someday?

BC: That’s my goal. We’ve been honing it and refining it and tweaking it so we’re going to finish this run of performances. I’ve got three or four other cities to go, and then we’re done.

RG: So Eugeneans will have the chance to come out and see this before it really gets started?

BC: That’s right. Play it now while you still can!

RG: I heard that you consider yourself selectively retired, is that true?

BC: Selective — that’s a good way to put it. I’m not retired, it just takes more to get me off the mountaintop now.

RG: What kind of projects besides this game show project are you working on?

BC: “Lodge 49,” a new show for AMC, I just did that for their first season. I just did three episodes of that, and they’re back for another season. I’m not sure about my character, he’s mostly dead by the end of it. But you know, I’m looking for quality stuff. Paul Giamatti, he’s one of the producers, the writing was great, they just had really good people working on this show, and that’s kind of what I’m looking for. I’m not really looking for more movies for the Syfy channel.

RG: No more of those, huh?

BC: I think I’m good. I think I’ve done with my last “Alien Apocalypse.”

RG: What are some of the things you actually pay attention to and are interested in as far as pop culture, since we’re going to be at comic con. What are some things that grab your attention?

BC: Not much. I’m an entertainer. My job is to entertain. I don’t have to know what the answers to these questions are, and I don’t. I don’t know the answers to them. I watched very mainstream stuff as a kid. My buddy Sam Raimi actually read “Spiderman” comics. I read a comic called “Sad Sack.” The guy was a loser grunt in WWII. He was always peeling potatoes. That’s what I was more interested in, the stories of the average schmoe, which is why Ash appealed to me, because he had no special skills. He was just his guy who worked at S-Mart.

That’s what appealed to me, playing real characters and, you know, acting in modern day movies is a very special skill, it’s very technical, and I got tired of looking at tennis balls on sticks. There’s the monster! Now it’s over here — OK 3-2-1 — shake the camera and blow the thing and hit the blood! You know, none of it is just letting a scene play out. Whenever you have any kind of monster fighting or special effects, you go shot by shot, not scene by scene, and it can be very disconcerting. You don’t know where you are in the piece of this big puzzle. It gets a little boring.

RG: One of my favorite films I think I’ve seen you in is “Bubba Ho-Tep.”

BC: Yeah it’s a cool little movie.

RG: What is one of your favorite roles acting?

BC: Well that’s more for the pundits but Bubba was top five, “Evil Dead” movies top 5, like the Hercules and Xena character, Autolycus, King of Thieves... a lot of kids spent their Saturdays watching those shows. “The Adventures of Brisco County Jr.” was a very brief one-off but really cool, ahead of its time, kind of steampunk western, so there’s been some fun stuff.

The longer you hang around, good stuff shows up. And you learn what not to look for anymore. And you learn the warning signs of trouble. Like when you make a couple of bad movies, you log in the back of your mind, why they were so bad, even yourself included, and you say to yourself, “OK, how do we avoid that?” But as a young actor you just say yes to everything. So it’s just a matter of being pickier now. Way pickier.

RG: What is the worst movie experience you’ve had?

BC: Well, it’s no fun pointing those out, but I would just say that it’s usually a combination... I’ll give you one example where I said no and I’m glad I did. Sci-fi script comes in. Tons of effects. Tons of action. You know, this, that and the other thing. So I say to myself, “OK yeah, you’re going to really need a journeyman director, that’s a lot of moving parts, to pull this off.” OK, who’s directing? It’s a first-time guy who wrote the script. Right there the bells go off. And you go, “First-time guy, who’s going to handle this...?” As my own director, I go, this would be challenging to someone with experience. And writers generally, in my opinion, make terrible directors because they have no sense of how a set works and they’re not great communicators because they sit in front of a frickin’ monitor all day long. ... Then I go, “OK, First-Time Guy, I get it. How long is this shoot?” And I know from knowing production what is a long shoot, what is a medium shoot and what is a short shoot, and they go, “Three weeks.” I’m like, “I’m out.” ... Because the producers now, now I blame the producers, they need to give this guy the most amount of time he possibly has. So that combo platter right there, I went “Pass. Just pass. Not interested.” So that’s what you learn. Years ago I’d say yes and then you go, “Geez what a ... fight that was,” you know what I mean?

RG: Do you think Ash’s ‘everyman’ qualities have maintained the popularity of the “Evil Dead” series?

BC: Yeah. Because people are shouting at the screen “You idiot, what are you doing?” You know he makes horrible mistakes because it’s not his job, he’s not a superhero, wasn’t born to it even though, in some ancient books, his picture is in it. So, it was fun to play the normal guy but then know that there were spiritual undertones, which is kind of cool. Because he is there to save the world. He’s been foretold as ‘The Guy.’ We were glad to be able to go back and revisit it with more experience, because the irony of my life is that I’m best known for the role of Ash in the first “Evil Dead” movie where I had no experience. So it’s nice to go back and go, “OK ... it’s 25 years later, I got some skills now. Now let’s take on this character and try and blow him into a three-dimensional character out of a two-dimensional situation.” So that’s what it was fun about it. But it was difficult because we’re older. Things tear.

RG: Well, it’s a very high-action TV show.

BC: Very much so, I had the hardest-working stuntman in show business, Raicho Vasilev.

RG: And you got to work with Lucy Lawless, how was that?

BC: Well it’s always great, always has been, for 20 years I’ve worked with her. She’s one of the good ones, as they say. Lee Majors as my dad? Who can top that? Frickin’ Bionic Man is my dad.

RG: What is it like having this celebrity status attributed to you as one of the most popular B-movie actors, what do you think about that?

BC: It’s impossible for me to quantify it. It’s not for me to say. It’s always nice to not wallow in obscurity — I didn’t get into the business to do that. But you don’t know where it’s going to go. That’s why you’ve got to be mellow about the whole thing. I have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow in this industry, and it’s changing all the time: the way they make movies, the way they deliver them, the types of movies they’re making. I think I’m just going to enter into the game show phase of my career and see where it goes.

RG: What do you think it is about you that has built such a loyal fanbase, especially with the “Evil Dead?”

BC: Just relatable characters. You’ve got to have a character people will relate to. There’s some actors who will remain nameless who — they don’t let you in. Their performance won’t let you into their world. They’re putting up a sheen. And I think it’s all fine and pretty to look at, but you know, you got to have more. There’s got to be more to it, even an idiot like Ash. You’ve got to have more to it. That’s why we introduced Ash’s daughter. We meet his family, we start to play on a little bit bigger reason why he’s here, what his purpose is. When you look at someone on screen I think you want to go, “Wow, God, I’d love to have a beer with that guy,” or if it’s a woman, “Man, what a great girlfriend she would be.” Stuff like that. It’s just a personal thing too, and every actor evolves into whoever they are by a certain set of circumstances. Some good, some bad.

RG: In the latest phase of your career you’ve turned to writing books. Why become a writer? What is it about writing that you like?

BC: I love books because there’s no shifts. You make a movie, and especially a high-price movie, there’s a lot of people with opinions who are very bossy all the time. And they will hound you about the smallest little things, little changes, and they have to justify their positions as assistant this or executive this or sub-pseudo-quasi this. And when you write a book, you know, I get on the phone with my editor, and they go, “Hey this one chapter, you sound a little pissed off, was that what you want?” I go, “Yeah, I can tone that down.” And I’d tone it down, it’d take about 20 minutes and then I’m done and we never have another word.

I spent more time with my lawyer than my editor because of the (crap) that they care about. But the process is really great, it’s really rewarding creatively, and financially they don’t (mess) around. They know how to add and subtract in publishing. For some reason in movies they’ve forgotten the ability to add and subtract. It’s a much more straightforward — you call someone in publishing, they call you back. You call someone in movies, you know it’s like their assistant will get back to you a week later, and they’ll run by three dates of where they could have a conversation. You know, just call me back. So I like the old-school nature of publishing. It’s getting pretty modern, but the people involved are very straightforward. They’re in it for the literature, not for the limousines....

RG: So do you write at your Oregon home?

BC: Yes. I have an office that’s just about completed. I’m so excited it’s just about impossible to be patient. It’s a brand-new setup where I can get busy in 2019. There’s going to be a lot of writing in 2019.

RG: What can we look forward to?

BC: New book. I’m going to tour in 2020, it’s a book of essays, it’ll be something a little different. If you want to be a real writer you can’t just talk about the wacky times you got dumped with blood on a film set.

RG: Well that was probably a pretty good starting point, they say write what you know about.

BC: Now I’m going to write what I don’t know about.

#Bruce Campbell #Last Fan Standing #Ash vs Evil Dead #Ash vs. Evil Dead #Evil Dead

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itscaptainyoulittlemaggot · 6 years

Text

Professor Rogers’ Office (Part Four)

Burdened with a hangover, you and Steve meet Bucky and Natasha for a lunch date that descends into yet more drunkenness, all in the name of becoming more involved in each others’ lives.

Notes: Professor!Steve x Reader; College AU; Strictly 18+; There’s smut coming in part five.

Professor Rogers’ Office Masterlist

Steve Rogers Writing Challenge

Saturday morning. Light cracked through the curtains, bathing you both in an obnoxious shade of orange. It was 10AM but you wondered whether sleep had even touched your eyes.

You and Steve had been up until five, working on the first draft of your research project together. The pair of you had been there since midday, sitting on the floor, backs against the sofa, encircled by research papers and textbooks, notes and more books. Steve was a stickler for writing things out by hand, much to your annoyance, but he had given you the most beautiful leather bound journal to write your draft in. He reasoned that it would make you think more about every argument, paragraph, line and even every word you put into your work.

That it did. You looked up at the ceiling, thinking about everything, muttering everything out loud. Everything was assessed by Steve and once he approved of what you were trying to say, you’d neatly note it in the book. It was a slow way of doing things. Not helped by Steve starting to ply you both by whisky by three in the afternoon. But progress was being made. He didn’t distract you any more than he needed to. Steve was helping. Just like he said he would.

Three sheets to the wind, half a dissertation and two bottles of whisky later, the pair of you collapsed into bed. Steve nodded off instantly, but you just laid there, on your back, staring at the ceiling.

It felt like you had been doing that for the six hours you had been there. Your brain still wrapped up in a giddy, drunken daze, pondering every glorious detail of the last few weeks. You looked over at Steve, who was still asleep in a cocoon of blankets. ‘So this is what it’s like to have somebody,’ you mused, smiling to yourself.

It was so foreign but so incredibly comforting. You wondered why you had tried to run from it in the beginning. Now you just let it envelope you.

You had agreed to start small. Your biggest fear was judgment from those closest to you and Steve. And there were so many inlets in your relationship for that to seep in. So many things people might tell you were wrong. They might tell you the age gap was to wide, or you too naive. Or that you were merely a rebound. So many worries.

But you were both determined to make it work. For that to happen, you had to get your friends on board. You already knew Bucky and Natasha from their wedding. That, according to you both, was starting small.

Setting about planning the day in your mind, how to steer the potential conversations into easy territory, how to get them to like you, fielding what you could remember about the couple… your train of thought quickly derailed as Steve began to stir.

He draped a heavy arm around your waist and pulled himself into your side. “Do we have to go?” Steve mumbled against your skin.

You carded your fingers through his hair, laughing to yourself. “Why? You hungover?”

“Yup.”

“Pop a couple painkillers, chug some water and jump in the shower. Moisturise or something. You’ll be fine.”

Steve didn’t speak, instead, he responded by wailing, nuzzling at your skin. You were having none of it.

“This was your idea.”

“Not my best.”

“We’re going.”

What Steve didn’t know was how much you didn’t want to go either.

As it turned out, ‘lunch’ with Bucky and Natasha, meant a completely different thing to them.

The venue for the meeting was a place called ‘The Raven,’ a small and dingy rock bar on the other side of town specialising in beer, beer and more beer. Not exactly something either of you craved after last night; nor was it the type of place you and Steve would ever frequent.

Punters, big burly figures in denim vests and bandanas, eyed you both as you scanned the room for Steve’s friends. To them, the pair of you were possibly the nerdiest looking creatures you had ever seen.

You clung to Steve’s arm as you made your way further into the dimly lit room, peeking into each of the booths. Finally, tucked away in the far corner, nursing a stein each, was Bucky and Natasha. Their surroundings fitted them to a tee.

“Steve!” Bucky beamed, shooting to his feet to hug his friend. He turned his attention to you, giving you a quick look up and down, before hugging you too. “Girl Steve!”

No sooner had your face parted ways with Bucky’s chest but you were being smothered by a mane of red hair and overwhelmed by the scent of Christmas candles and caramel.

When Natasha was done, she looked up at Bucky. “Look, they even dress the same, how sweet!” she cooed.

Neither you nor Steve knew how to take that comment; you just glanced at each other and grimaced.

“Okay, nerds, I’m gonna get a round in, what are you having?” Bucky said, clasping his hands together.

Steve shook his head. “No, I-I’m good for now, Buck.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows and pointed at Steve. “Beer.” Then he pointed at you.

“I don’t know if I should…”

“Beer. Good.”

You, Steve and Natasha took your seats in the red leather booth. She sat opposite you and smirked.

“Nat, I know that look.”

“I think it’s great you’re getting back on your feet,” she said, reaching over to touch Steve’s arm. “She’s cute.”

Bucky came back to the booth, carrying a tray of steins. Your stomach churned at the thought of having to drink one of those.

“James, don’t you think they’re cute?” Natasha drawled.

Bucky paused as he dished out the beers, looking at your and Steve with a furrowed brow. “I guess.”

“You guys definitely make a cute couple, I’m so happy.”

“Is this a joke?” you snapped.

Natasha was taken aback. Steve and Bucky too. “Why would it be a joke?”

You struggled to form words. Steve put his hand on your arm reassuringly.

“All I’m saying is that Steve looks happy. I’m happy you’re making my friend happy because god knows Peggy never did,” she said defensively.

You could feel the embarrassment welling up inside you. Not even ten minutes with these people, you were already making a fool out of yourself. “Sorry,” you said quietly.

“Never calling you cute again, by the way, point taken,” Natasha joked.

After that, you zoned out, looking down at your drink. Unsure of what to say, and disgusted by the thought of drinking again to aid you on your way. You let the grown ups have their own conversation, not tuning in or saying a word.

Then you felt an elbow to your rib.

You sat bolt upright. “Huh?”

“Tell ‘em what you do,” Steve said.

You stumbled your way towards an answer: “Oh, uh… I study history. Modern… European history. German reunification is my main sort of focus with that.”

Bucky and Natasha listened intently, their eyes lighting up as you began talking about your dissertation, even if sounded clinical and matter of fact to you. They were fascinated.

“And what are you gonna do after college? Are you gonna go to grad school?” Bucky asked.

“No… I don’t really know. I kind of just studied history on a whim because of my parents. It’s not really my passion.”

“Well what is?” Natasha asked.

“I always wanted to be a painter, you know. But my folks always told me I wasn’t good enough for art school, that it wasn’t a viable career, no money in it. But yeah, I might go into high school teaching. Maybe.”

“But if it’s your passion, why not just go for it? Surely being happy is better than pleasing your parents? Right?” Natasha pressed.

Steve turned to you, “and you’re smart. Really smart. I mean, you could do whatever you wanted.” He faced Bucky and Natasha again. “Did I mention how smart she is? Straight A’s!”

“Yeah that’s because you’re marking all my papers.”

“Sleeping with the teacher, where have I heard that before?” Bucky remarked, settling back into his seat and winking at Steve.

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at Steve.

His cheeks were scarlet and his hands were over his eyes. Half his beer was gone. “Listen, listen,” he said, attempting to stifle a laugh. “I was B student at best with a BEST FRIEND who constantly got me into all kinds of trouble and precisely zero prospects. There was nothing else I could do!”

“So you fucked… what was her name again?” Bucky continued.

“Professor van Dyne,” Steve admitted.

“She’s gotta be a hundred years old right now,” Bucky said, shaking his head.

The conversation had driven you to take the first sip of your now warm beer.

“I guess what I’m saying is, you have prospects,” Steve concluded, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“So I don’t have to sleep with you anymore? Great, bye!”

“So are you just naturally smart, or how hard do you have to work?” Natasha asked.

“Nooooo. Not by a long shot,” you began. “I have to study a lot. It’s a lot of stress. I’ll just be glad when college is over. It’s not for me, really.”

“Really stresses you out, huh?” she said.

“Put it this way: Steve’s probably seen me cry more than my own mother.”

“You know, Steve’s a crybaby too,” Bucky added.

“Aaaaaaaaand I gotta take a leak,” Steve said.

Steve excused himself, leaving you alone with his friends. Pressured into talking to them, you asked them what they did for a living.

“I run a shooting school,” Bucky said proudly.

“And I teach a self defence class for women in disadvantaged communities.”

“We both used to work in law enforcement,” Bucky added.

“He worked for the NYPD and I was FBI for a while. We had so many run ins on the job, so many pissing contests. But I knew he liked me,” Natasha explained.

“But when we decided we wanted a life together, we just decided to pack it in. Have a simpler life.”

“And we couldn’t be happier,” Natasha concluded, smacking her hand to Bucky’s chest.

Badass and happy? Steve returned, just as you had concluded that his friends were truly sickening.

“How did you meet this guy?” you asked, cocking your thumb in Steve’s direction.

Steve flopped down beside you, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “For my sake,” he began, “please give her the non lame version.”

“Please give me the lame version.”

“Well,” Bucky shifted forward in his seat, “Steve was the scrawniest little shit in kindergarten. But he was yappy, like a ratty little dog. Anyway, he was going off on this one rich kid called Stark for taking his favourite fire truck. But Stark beat him up so hard that Stevie crapped his pants. Literally, crapped. His. Pants.”

“And we’re getting the lame version,” Steve interjected.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky nodded. “So anyway, I see this happening. I was one of the bigger kids in the class, I could take ‘em all. But I don’t like bullies. I go over to Stark in front of everybody, and I pantsed him. Well this guy cried like I’ve never seen. And little Stevie’s just standing there with diarrhoea coming out of his pants.”

“And then what happened,” you asked, feeling bad for Steve.

“He knew if he stuck with me, he could run his mouth as much as he wanted. Nobody could touch him,” Bucky laughed. “It’s funny when you look back on it. Did you take steroids when you went through puberty, Stevie?”

You saw them funny side now, looking at them both. Steve was taller than Bucky by a good few inches, broader at the shoulders and had a wider chest. He was bigger than him now.

“He still can’t fight for shit,” Bucky added.

“Can confirm. Can’t beat his way out of a paper bag. Even I can’t help him,” Natasha commented.

“I don’t like hitting things,” Steve almost whined.

“Unless it’s in the bedroom,” Natasha remarked.

“What?”

“Peggy told me a few things. A few things you really really liked.”

“She did have a great ass for it,” Bucky reasoned.

You zoned out again, to build a picture in your mind of what Natasha was getting at, with you in Peggy’s place, and this time in Steve’s office, just like all of those little covert visits you paid him at the start of the year. You were bent over his desk, underwear bundled around your ankles. And he was standing over you with his thick, tan belt in his hand. Or would he used his own, bare hands? Would you be draped over his thighs? The possibilities were endless.

You bit your lip just imagining what he’d do to you, hoping that this side of him really did exist, wanting it to be true.

Grunting. That’s what ripped you away from the painting inside your head. Your eyes quickly focused, homing into the scene in front of you.

Somehow the debate over who was strongest had descended into an arm wrestling match between Steve and Bucky. They were hovering out of their chairs, elbows firmly placed on the table. Great veins in Bucky’s arm bulged as Steve grappled and fought to best his friend. Eyes closed, teeth clenched. Steve won.

“Woo! It’s a good day to be a nerd,” he quipped, slicking back a stray strand of hair from his forehead.

Natasha was completely straight faced, glaring at the men as they sat back down. “Pathetic,” she muttered, before turning her attention back to you, now wearing a smile. “So what do you get up to on weekends?”

“I just study, hang out with my roommate, Wanda, and her girlfriend, Carol. I can’t really do much else right now until I’m done with the semester.”

“You reckon you could take one weekend out?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I guess. Why?”

Part Five

#steve rogers x reader #college au #professor steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff

137 notes · View notes

pirirps · 7 years

Text

mythbusters starters: seasons 1 & 2

who are the mythbusters?

we’re what you’d call “experts”.

together, they have over 30 years of _____ experience.

we do this for a living.

i’m trying to locate a pig’s stomach.

_____’s SUPPOSED to be an expert.

that’s the shit!

the chevy impala is the ideal candidate for urban legend status.

so, the air force apparently called and turned us down on the jato rocket.

did they call us back again? just to deny permission? again? without being asked?

oh, fuck me.

[making gratuitous car crash sound effects]

oh, that’s the coolest toy ever.

we’ve got years of experience that keeps us safe.

i’m gonna have to have a grin-ectomy!

i mean, obviously it’s deflated, right?

[opens mouth to show a bunch of pop rocks going off]

what about mounting it in our skeleton over there?

oh, don’t make me say it!

once the belief is out there, you have to take some gargantuan steps to disprove it.

_____’s had two cans, he’s out of control! oh my god, he’s having another one! _____! _____, you can’t have those last two cans! oh my god, you’re an animal!

okay, i wouldn’t have called that he could drink all that soda and eat all those pop rocks at once.

i can’t answer the phone. i’m tying a pig’s stomach into a skeleton.

that’s what we call “a hell of a saturday night”.

another one bites the dust.

scotty, i need more power!!!

did you go to art school?

it has to be nice and fleshy and soft.

i come from the planet butthead.

that’s actually ____’s butt.

that’s probably the best shot you’ll ever see of your own butt.

it really looks great. i’m looking forward to spanking it.

think of all the twinkies that go into the actual production of this.

we’re doing in one night what most people spend their whole lives avoiding.

she’d have one big hickey.

a big butt hickey. that’s gonna be hard to explain.

we’re prepared to stake... uh... ____’s butt on it.

i’m trying to talk scientifically!

i was using my arms! if i didn’t have arms, i wouldn’t be able to free myself!

you were absolutely right.

agree with me.

i’ve only broken one bone in my body.

this would be cool if i could see.

our lawyer just isn’t cutting the mustard.

i won myself five bucks!

the coroner decided not to file an inquiry in this case because it was such a freak accident.

i love breaking things.

tub of body latex: $43. tub of gold pigment: $6. watching your friend get naked, covered in gold paint, and then jogging until they pass out: priceless.

this is the thing that made it all over the internet a few years ago.

we’re not gonna bring the pellet gun.

is this something that would be legal for us to do?

unfortunately, _____ wouldn’t let us shoot inside the building.

you need forty-two of those? good lord!

are you sure you wanna do the do?

i think it’s fine. of course-- it’s your neck, not mine.

we’re trying to recreate the mythical flight of ________.

_____ had a lot of help.

it’s been nice knowin’ ya!

cheers.

gimme a hug.

i think i’ll get a couple of tanks of helium and see what happens.

we’re gonna eat some bagels. we’re gonna eat some cake.

i think we have to drink a lot of water, ‘cause we’re gonna have to cough up about a half a dozen urine samples today.

we bought _____ over the web-- a bargain at $16.95 for ten!

i hope i don’t get pee shy.

i haven’t used drugs in weeks.

i think this is gonna cure me of my love for ____once and for all.

i think that’s a positive right there.

i just tested positive for opiates!

welcome to the club there, brotha!

so is it gonna be a girl or a boy, do you think?

i believe that’s what people do when they go out, uh, you know, uh, partying, or something.

you wanna make sure that you’re SHINY.

listen, you’re already naked and running on the treadmill covered in gold paint. there’s no such thing as shame anymore.

what’s the danger zone?

i could die if i’m not careful with this thing.

it feels like i’m being skinned!

______’s blood pressure fluctuations are obviously related to the latex.

tossing a ____ off the top of the empire state building is not as easy as it sounds.

is this-- is this excited ____? we’ve got a world first!

we’ve got a world first! it’s going out on television!

he’s totally [bleeping] [bleep]ing me.

wwwwwwwwwhoops!

[GLASS SHATTERING] whoops! haha! ha-- we should get out of here, that’s mercury vapor.

the fbi uses it to test weapons.

he wants to do his own narration.

i’ll do it. but you gotta do it too, or else you’re, like, a wuss.

okay. you go first.

OOOOOWW! agh! ... that didn’t actually hurt that much.

augh! you hit me in the same exact place!

it didn’t hurt that much before, but now it really hurts!

i always enjoy seeing ____ in pain.

go ahead. shoot me in the ass. come on, i can take it.

[on the verge of tears, clutching injured body part] i was prepared for the consequences.

any time we get to play with explosives and gunpowder and cool weapons and stuff like that, we’re happy campers.

there’s a significant chance that there will be an explosion.

[puppy voice] do you want the cookie?? is your cookie in here??? get the cookie!!!

what sort of foul play is this?!

i think it’s really quite obvious that i don’t tan, like, at all.

_____ wants to build the microwave oven from hell.

i’m gonna take all these microwaves apart and use them to build a super-powerful microwave gun that i can carry around and heat stuff up with.

fork in the microwave.

it’s like something out of star trek!

dude, you are the MAN!

in theory, this should heat up a cup of water four times faster than a regular microwave would.

[wraps entire body in tin foil]

i wouldn’t say _____’s an evil genius. i’m not sure he’s evil and i’m not sure he’s a genius.

my watch has stopped.

i’m looking for a human skull.

it’s his father’s.

this has to be easier than getting ahold of a skull. right?

it’s busted.

this pig’s gonna be one big bag a’ maggots.

____’s mustache is twitching.

usually, things don’t work this easy.

it’s the world’s most complicated lighter.

it’s my new secret escape hatch!

it’s taking him a while to do this. i think he’s having a little too much fun.

i’m excited. we’re gonna blow some stuff up and go home.

it’s kind of a lot. it’s kind of-- really a lot.

we can’t put gunpowder behind him and try to launch him, that’s just gonna blow him up.

cue the bomb.

will it work? that’s in the lap of the gunpowder gods.

if you catch him, i’ll give you a hundred dollars.

you wanna put some protection on, there?

he thinks he’s alright.

he survived! ___ survived!

one got away, and the other two have been quietly decomposing in a 1987 corvette for two months.

it just smells like standard death.

i see myself as a vegetarian for at least the next couple of weeks.

if my baby’s poo smelled like that, i would take it to a hospital immediately.

it won’t start, and it stinks of dead pig, but it’ll look good.

it’s alive!

science or quackery?

have we all been injected with mind-control chips?!

what happened to these men?

the authorities presumed they drowned.

the authorities presumed they drowned, but the myth says that they survived on a homemade raft.

people often cheer for the underdog.

officially, no one ever escaped and lived to tell.

i think i’ll fit. i’m not so sure about you.

let the break-out begin!

seems beer and fast food wasn’t on the menu at alcatraz.

i think i tweaked my back.

this is where it all happened.

it’s a lot of distance to cover in the middle of the night with all that equipment, i’ll tell you that.

it seems to simple an end.

he spent his life in and out of reform schools and prisons.

we’re escaping alcatraz at mach one!

wait-- was that a guard?

anything to say to the ducks back home?

well, i guess we’ll find a way of making it complicated, won’t we.

don’t let their looks deceive you. they’re actually quite deadly.

i asked for some volunteers this morning, and i came up with a couple.

that wasn’t so bad, was it? that wasn’t so bad.

don’t mess with me, duck. when i say quack, you’re gonna quack, right?

quack, damn you!

they just needed someone to talk to.

you ready to quack for science?

where were all those quacks when we needed ‘em?!

____, you wanna come over here and bend over?

we can do a little prison hazing ritual.

at this point, it looks like i’m not getting off the island. i’m gonna have to finish this life sentence.

dude, that’s a ____. i’m really impressed with these prison guys.

i give us a 60% chance of making it, a 20% chance of immediate catastrophic failure, and a 20% chance of slow descent into hell.

we’re gonna see if we can determine when, exactly, the government installs their mind-control chips.

you can proceed, but we’re watching you.

this is like a big, grown-up version of battleship! that’s cool!

[in a robotic monotone] i do not notice anything at all. i feel perfectly fine now.

it would seem that their technology is far more advanced than previously suspected!

you look funny.

just remember, kid-- if it doesn’t kill you, it’ll make a GREAT story later on.

#meme #*mine #rp meme #sentence memes #starter memes

150 notes · View notes

trashpandawriting · 7 years

Text

Expulsion Day. Short story, draft 2.

It seemed to always rain on Expulsion Days, Thomas mused as he stood among the crowd. Never a huge thunderstorm, never anything that threatened to disrupt the days activities, but enough that if you actually came out to watch it live you'd leave with damp clothes, shivering your way home. He had been to approximately 24 Expulsion Days, that was one for each month since he had turned 18 and could go by himself without needing parental permission. It was mandatory viewing on the television for all citizens - but his father had gruffly denied Thomas the right to go view it in person. But he was no longer a child, and so he came every month like clockwork to experience it in person, unable to get rid of the thrill of experiencing it firsthand. "Sorry, pardon me." He said quietly, pushing past the onlookers with their umbrellas and ponchos. He liked being up front for the spectacle, seeing the action unfold right in front of him. They regarded him with some annoyance, but allowed him to push forward regardless, and soon he had his customary spot right up front in the labeled "splash zone." "Thomas, over here!" He glanced in the direction of his name, smiling as he spotted who the voice belonged too and offering a wave. "Samantha, it's good to see you." He pushed his way over the smiling brunette, offering a smile of his own, "Excited for today?" "Oh you bet, look at this," She pulled out an umbrella, twirling it around for him to see, "It says "LET IT RAIN", I got it off some guy selling stuff outside the gates. Only 20 bucks! Very appropriate though, I think don't you?" "Very," He agreed, offering a thumbs up, "It's definitely going to rain a ton today I think, there was a lot that happened this month." Samantha nodded, closing the umbrella and sticking it into the ground in front of her to lean on, "Yeah, I had a couple of friends who took part in the rally down in Memphis. Hoo boy, can you believe it? I thought they were cool, you know? Turns out - they're just like every other dumb asshole." "Any of them coming today?" He asked. "Dunno, I guess we'll find out soon though - it's almost noon." Samantha offered him a shrug, "I hope so though, wouldn't that be sick? Could you imagine knowing someone who gets to take part in the Expulsion? Wicked cool. I couldn't imagine being one of 'em though, the idiots. How hard is it to be a good citizen? Morons.” There was an easy silence between them for a moment, and they both turned to look at the stage with impatience, waiting for the customary announcement that would signal the begin of the festivities. "LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, THE EXPULSION WILL BEGIN IN 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..." The two glanced at each other, matching each others smiles of excitement as the man who hosted every Expulsion, Chad Newmell came out wearing his customary black suit and red tie, flashing a smile to the waiting crowd that exploded in cacophony of applause at his appearance. "Welcome! Welcome, please, please save your applause, we have much to do, and you know we like to get you fine folks back to work as quickly as possible! Ladies and gentlemen... Welcome to this months Expulsion - and boy do I think we have some real treats for you this time! Now, we of course had a record low of riots this month - only three in our major cities, the worst of course being the awful Memphis riots. However, thanks to our fearless men in black and blue, we have rounded up a record number of agitators! Lets give them a round of applause shall we?" Thomas clapped heartily, and heard himself shout in approval as Chad Newmell began to list the numbers... two hundred and fifty-three in San Jose.... four hundred in Chicago.... and a record five hundred and sixty-six in Memphis. All together, one thousand two hundred and nineteen agitators to the country had been rounded up. His heart swelled with pride at the number, he felt safer already knowing that they had managed to put away so many disruptions. "Now... of course, despite that number, we can't expel all of them. Only the worst of the worst get to take part in Expulsion, the rest of course will either be taken to work off their debts to society, or be recruited into our military to protect our country from threats outside." Chad gave a smile at the approval murmuring through the crowd, "But that still leaves us... 34 agitators that have shown they do not wish to make, and keep our country great! And what does that mean for them?" Thomas' mouth opened automatically, his voice blending in with the thousands of others surrounding him, "EXPULSION. EXPULSION!" "Oh you all are a smart crowd, that is correct! It means expulsion, and we have got a treat for you this Expulsion Day. As always, our sponsors, Flexon Corporation have provided the fireworks for the festivities! The very same our boys in green uses overseas to keep our country safe, here at the Expulsion you get to see the big bangs and the explosions with no worry to your own wellbeing! It's fun for the whole family, thanks to Flexon Corporation! Now, let's bring out this month's expulsions!" Surrounded by armed guards, the line of 34 agitators marked for Expulsion began to line up on stage, and Thomas felt Samantha tap on his arm, as she eagerly began to point out those she knew, "See there? That's Jacob, oh, oh, and that's Katherine. Oh I knew she was a rat, pity about Rob though." "That sure is neat, Samantha, I can't believe you know so many people who get to take part today." Thomas offered her a smile, before turning to face the line of agitators that had now lined up, each holding the same expression of fear and misery. "Now, let's begin shall we?" Chad was speaking again, smiling with an open mouth, his teeth glittering beneath the stage lights, "When I say your name, please step forward to the box marked up here on the stage, and turn and face this gentleman, what was your name, sir?" The armed soldier dressed neatly in all black, leaned over to speak into the microphone Chad offered up, "I'm Sergeant Alex Nichols, sir. Honor to be here." "No, no... it is our honor to have you here, Sergeant Nichols. Sergeant Nichols here was selected to be our Expeller this month due to exemplary showmanship back in the Middle East. A record of 145 kills, that's gotta be a new record isn't it? You're doing your country proud, Sergeant Nichols, and for your courage... you have been given the honor of being our Expeller this month. Just stand back right there by the button, no don't touch it just yet, and let's get started! Ladies and Gentlemen, if you've got anything you wouldn't like ruined, now would be the time to leave or cover up! Our first agitator to be Expelled today is...one Miss Allison Shiner!" The blood began to pound in Thomas' ears as the first trembling woman stepped up the line, her teary eyes turning to look over at the raving crowd. Her arms were strapped to her side, bound with a thick black tape that went around her body to keep the Flexon Corporation Expulsion Kit™ in place on her body. Thomas took a minute to study her, a pretty little blonde with dark eyes and a thin frame but curves in places that would've made any man weep. Perhaps in another life he would've found her attractive, would've asked her to drinks. Asked her back to his house, and see if those breasts felt as good as they looked. But instead he looked at her with disdain, just another agitator bent on disrupting the good of their country. She wouldn't have given him the time of the day. Beside him, Samantha had opened up her umbrella, looking up at the stage with a ravenous look, biting her lip with anticipation. "P-please... please, I swear I'll-" "Now, now, Allison," Chad flashed her a smile, "You're doing this for your country, one last chance to honor the country that birthed, and took care of you. Do you really want your last words to be that of a sniveling coward, or do you wish to take pride in the civic duty you're taking part of?" "I-I..." The woman looked around wildly, her body heaving with sobs, "PLEASE." "Expel her." It was only seconds after Chad Newell said the words that Sergeant Nichols pressed the shiny red button labeled with the single word marked in white "EXPEL" next to him on stage, propelling the pretty young Allison into the sky to meet her maker. The crowd roared and Thomas felt the sudden yet familiar surge of electricity run through his body, leaving his body on fire and an erection growing in his pants. He peered up into the sky, squinting to try and make out where she had gone, and it didn't take long for him to spot her as the sky exploded into a flurry of fireworks and he felt the body that had once been Allison Shiner begin to rain down onto him and the screaming crowd. He lifted a hand up, touching the blood splatters that coated his face, before looking down at his feet where he noticed a solitary chunk of flesh, the blonde hair of one Miss Allison Shiner sticking out of it, sitting on his shoe. He kicked it off absentmindedly, licking his lips clean as he looked back to the stage with anticipation, while behind him the crowd roared in approval at the display. "The first ones are always frightened, aren't they?" Chad was speaking again, looking at the pile of flesh that once was Allison Shiner's face, "Oh well, we always have a few pleaders. Next up! We have a... Bradley Powell. Bradley could you come up here please?"

A man was pushed forward by the armed guards, falling onto the stage with a thud. He looked down at the crowd, opening and closing his mouth as though he were about to say something.

"Now Bradley here, it would appear is an unregistered journalist. And an unregistered journalist means only one thing, doesn't it?" Chad turned to the crowd, cupping his hand around his ear, "What does that mean everyone?" "FAKE NEWS, FAKE NEWS, FAKE NEWS!"

"And what do we DO with FAKE NEWS?" Chad was nearly screaming into his microphone, clutching it so tightly his knuckles began to turn white. "BURN IT! BURN IT DOWN!"

Thomas felt his legs quiver, he had never seen an unregistered journalist at the Expulsion before. Oh he had heard about what happened, had seen it on the television set like every good citizen. But he had never seen one live in person and he felt himself shaking with impatience and excitement at the thought of finally seeing it live. The man in question, Mr. Bradley Powell was blubbering on stage as two armed guards lifted him to standing position, "Please, you people need to listen to me it wasn't always like this - you don'-" He was cut off by one of the guards shoving a white rag into his mouth, and Thomas felt himself lift his nose up in the air to catch a whiff of the sweet smell of gasoline that had begun to permeate the air. The man, this fake journalist began to scream behind his gag as the two guards shoved him into the see-through plexiglass box that had been wheeled onto the stage, locking him inside. Tears streamed from his eyes and he looked out at the crowd in despair as liquid began to pour into the box alongside him, leaving his body drenched. "Now, Mr. Powell, that's enough of your lies, I think. Ladies and gentlemen, would you give this a man thumbs up? Or do you think he deserves and overwhelming DISLIKE?" Chad grinned at the crowd as it began to roar its answer, "It would appear, Mr. Powell, that the audience has given you a big thumbs down. Sergeant Nichols, if you would do the honor, sir." The Sergeant took a step forward towards the box that had been filled a quarter of the way up with gasoline; the smell of it wafted across the crowd through the box's open top and Thomas felt his toes curl in his boots, his heart pounding as he waited. The Sergeant lifted a hand in a wave and then pushed the sole button adorning the glass box that housed the one and only Bradley Powell. Flames immediately enveloped the man and what screams he may have had were cut off as the flames shot up into the sky as the crowd watched in awe, screaming their delight. Thomas however opted to stay focused on the box itself, watching with sick glee as the man writhed inside like a bug that had been trapped. A hand shot forward from the flames, and the flesh began stick to the clear wall and Thomas could only bite his lip with excitement as he watched the skin begin to melt.

"Look, look there he is!" Samantha nudged him, and they looked on in awe as they saw the man's head emerge from the flames, hairless, and blackened, the flesh peeling away from his head to reveal the skull beneath it. Where his eyes once were, were blackened sockets oozing a viscous white goo that Thomas realized (with no small bit of glee), must have once been Mr. Bradley Powell's eyes. "And that my fellow citizens, is how we deal with fake news. We burn it at the source! Right at the damned source! Now moving on... Mr. Jason Reynolds!" Over the course of the next hour, the stage and crowd became littered with bits of flesh, and the only thing Thomas could smell in the air was the fresh scent of blood combined with the acrid smell of burnt journalist. His coat was spattered with blood and he noted with some amusement, bits of flesh that seemed to stick for a moment before falling to the ground like some sort of slime. The sky was tinged with the smoke of all those who had been expelled, and the air surrounding the crowd had begun to get hazy. Beside him, Samantha was staring wide-eyed, streaks of blood running down her face, her umbrella long forgotten on the ground. "Now then, as we close this Expulsion Day... we have one little last surprise for you all. A surprise, and a reminder." Chad looked at the audience, his words hushing them into an eager silence, "We must all remember that these agitators, these would-be disrupters of our fine country can be lurking among us at any time. Our coworkers, our friends, family even. It our duty to remain diligent. It is our duty to disassociate from these would be terrorists. That being said... Miss Samantha Rogers? Miss Rogers are you in the crowd? I know you are." Thomas turned his head, looking at Samantha, "Gee Samantha, that's you isn't it?" She looked at him, her mouth opening and closing in panic, "I-I, no that's not me- I-" Suddenly a spotlight was directed on them, and she screamed, a hoarse desperate scream as two armed guards rushed over to grab hold of both arms. "I-I'M NO AGITATOR. I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THEM!" She began to howl, kicking in the guards grasp. "To do with whom?" Chad Newmell said as the guards tossed her to the stage. She sat there, her sweater and jeans soaking in the blood of the deceased, "To do with whom, Miss Rogers?" "J-Jacob, and Rob... and Katherine! I swear I hated them! I didn't do anything with them, I love Expulsion Days, please! I'm a good citizen! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?" Thomas could only look up at the stage with baited breath, squeezing his hand into a fist. He felt like his entire body may burst with pleasure, he could feel the strain against his pants zipper again. "You say that, but what do we all think, hm?" Chad gestured to the crowd, flashing his signature smile. "EXPEL HER, EXPEL HER, EXPEL HER." The crowd roared and Thomas felt his own voice join them, pumping his fist into the air as Samantha stared into the crowd, her tears washing away the blood streaks that had caked onto her face. They had become one singular animal in the search for more blood to close out this Expulsion, and they would not rest until the final drop had been spilled. "I'm afraid, Samantha, the crowd has spoken. You failed in your civic duty to the country, and to its citizens. There is only one recourse. Stand her up, if you would." The two guards pulled her up, and she could only blubber, pleading and begging to deaf ears. Thomas looked down, noticing her umbrella still sitting beside him. With a small smile, he picked it up and opened it, shaking off what blood and flesh had been splattered across it, before holding it up above his head in preparation. "Expel her." The shots rang out, long whistling shots that sounded like missiles streaming their way towards her. The blood rained down onto the vinyl umbrella that he held up, and he felt his body heave a sigh of relief as Samantha's now headless body fell to the ground with a thud. As the blood settled, Thomas felt himself twirl her umbrella looking up at the sky, unable to discern if it was still the smoke from the festivities, or if it was about to storm. Let it rain... let it rain. Yes, it sure did rain hard this Expulsion Day.

#short story #tw: violence #tw: blood #etc etc etc

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krycek-asks · 7 years

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Luis' Story Time: The first time I got a hug from Steve Fuckin Rogers

Or "Two times Luis hugged Steve and one time Steve hugged first." Originally written for @thelittleblackfox , a Luis' feel good story (If you make it to the end of 2k+ words coming out of Luis's mouth there's a gold star in it for you) (Sorry no 'read after the cut' when posting from my phone ha!) "The first time I stood in front of Steve Fuckin Rogers man I smiled so wide I felt my cheek bones crack, and I couldn't stop yo! I said somethin stupid like 'it's nice to finally meet you bro' or 'heard a lot about you brah, but like only the good stuff ya know?' Like there's any legit bad stuff. And he just smiled into that aura of kindness that radiates all around him, and that shit is gold yo, my prima Leticia is in tune with the spirits and she says the good ones are gold, literally, like they radiate gold and what could be more good than Steve Fuckin Rogers holding his hand out to you? I get into that golden warm haze and pull that dude in a for a hug and jeeeezus have you felt that guero's biceps? Practically gave myself a concussion on the dudes pecks. Course I told him that, a brotha likes to hear all his hard work ain't goin all under appreciated, and Scott's just standing behind him nodding at me all 'Right? Right? I toooooold you he was awesome' but silent talkin like with his eyes. And Steve Fuckin Rogers is the humblest dude you will ever meet, duckin his head all shy teenager or whatever age he's frozen in since that magic potion he drank or gamma ray or whatever made him wander the earth all ageless 'n shit, like the world's most buff vampire but instead of hiding from the sun and drinking blood, he shines that light right through you and eats like six burgers at a time as though his life depended on that shit, like he'd turn to ash without twelve million calories a day. So of course I introduce him to my tío Pepe's taco stand, ain't no safer place to discuss a job AND chow down on life giving suadero. Best salsa in town too. Just about closed the place down early that night with the sheer quantity of taco consumption yo! and everyone fallin all over eachother tryin to get Captain America a jarrito or a napkin or whatever. Of course Steve Fuckin Rogers pays for everything we ate and more. He can be a happy dude man, well when he's eaten anyways, dude is the definition of 'have a snickers' most of the time. Anyways so a couple months later and I'm helpin Scott do some serious ass swear to god legit Avenging. I mean I've met Norse gods and kissed Black Widows but nothin could prepare me for the awesome presence of the Winter Distract You With My Awesome Darkness While I Slice You Soldier saving me from some shit eating alien monsters with nothin but the butter knife or whatever the fuck he pulls out of all those secret little pockets in that kick ass black leather number he wears. 'Course he's just Bucky outside of the fight, like that dude could be 'just' anything ya know? Like who else appreciates how to properly braise leeks or fold butter to get just the right amount of lamination in a goddamn croissant huh? Bucky that's who. Anyways he's Steve Fuckin Rogers life partner or whatever, no need for labelling amongst friends ya know, so when the Winter Soldier gets his last filleting knife lost in the slobber of the most persistent of alien dickweeds and we're staring down the short track of our lives into the dripping maw of death it's Steve Fuckin Rogers who comes in at the last second to save the day, his glowing aura alone shredding that hell hound into shadowy fuckin bits that blow away in the breeze. I mean really it was that kick ass shield made of Infinitum or awesomium or whatever, but you hear me dawg. There was a group hug after, well it was more like I wrapped my arms around a single super being - those two were like melded into one yo, my arms barely got half way. It was beautiful. Tears were shed bro I ain't afraid to admit it but I'm sensitive like that. Daddy ain't afraid of feelings. So me and Scott start hangin around the Avengers club house more often and it is so tight yo! They got ping pong, Xbox, indoor outdoor pools, fuckin Nordic spa quality steam rooms ya know what I'm sayin? Like breathing eucalyptus through every pore in my body is a religious experience, and all this in midtown Manhattan yo! Stark knows how to treat his buddies right, get 'em back in fightin form asap. We'd do midnight ramen with Clint, Scott'd hang with Bruce around his lab exchanging science knowledge like they were playing poker or somethin, I'd hang with Nat and play Boggle or Scrabble but my girl she cheats in other languages I'm sure of it! But whatcha gonna do, call Black Widow out on some Eastern European word for yak's milk? 'sides she lets me use my chilango 'cause deep down she's a real sweetheart. Brunch Roulette with Bucky on Sundays - we pick the trendiest restaurant we can find that day and proceed to order everything we can stand, acting like real buffs, legit Michelin Four Star reviewers or whatever gets the staff jumpin. Dude loves cuisine and can talk about the thousand ways to cook over fire while slicing a tomato without even looking, nothing snags on my mans knives, keeps those muthas sharp ya know? But Steve Fuckin Rogers is a whole other story yo, saddest dude I have ever met when he ain't got no fight to plan for, and you can only run in one spot for a certain amount of time until you wear that floor down, or like literally break your shoes or somethin. And it ain't like he's havin a hard time adjusting to modern digital life, and dude seems happy enough eating whatever Buck puts in front of him, even gets this close to a smile when he can drag himself outside the clubhouse to join us for Brunch Roulette and makes the staff fall all over themselves if they fail to fill up Bucky's water when asked or turn his creme brûlée into scrambled eggs. I mean seriously yo, my abuela can make a perfect flan in her sleep and some of these posers can't tell the difference between a creme caramel and a Cadbury Creme Egg. But if left to his own devices he starts lookin through old photos from his Known Associates box or old sketchbooks from his apartment in Brooklyn from the dawn of time, aka the Great Depression. Tony calls them his Sad Souvenirs, and that golden aura? It just fades yo, like it's still there but limp or something. Bucky told me over mimosas, best ever wake up juice on the market by the way! He told me he tried to hide the Sad Souvenir box once, but Steve Fuckin Rogers just sat at their breakfast bar making houses out of an old bicycle card deck and they just kept fallin over and he'd get sadder and sadder and smaller and smaller until Bucky couldn't take it anymore and asked him to help open a pickle jar or some shit and put the Sad Souvenirs back while he was occupied being 'helpful'. I heard that story and thought of my cousin's girlfriend's brother's neighbor's dog's vet's husband out in Red Hook - dude owns a sandwich shop, best cubanos you can get bro! It was the pickles that reminded me of that heaven on a bolillo. But what does a sandwich shop have to do with Steve Fuckin Rogers you ask? Nothin bro, 'cept it's next to a pawn shop owned by a hundred year old dude named Frank that used to know my homeboys from back in the day! More to the point he knew Sarah Rogers, the living saint herself who used to walk the halls of the TB wards like the superhero she was, took care of her little slip of a boy and smacked down anyone who dared breathe wrong in his direction. Scott said he overheard Nat tellin Clint that she'd overheard Tony talkin on the phone to some Commando named Morita's kid about stories his dad told him about Steve Fuckin Rogers back in the day. Seems like the poor kid lost his mom to the very disease she'd been savin people from all those years ago, and he used to sing her favourite songs in this strange language but would shut up when caught out by his soldier buddies. Kept lookin in all the churches they crashed in while marching through the mud of war for rosaries too, but not just any rosary though he'd pray pretty hard regardless but he was lookin for something all specific like. Seems Tony's dad Howard sent some dudes out to try and track down Sarah's shit that was left behind at the sanitorium where people go to get better but mostly just pass on, but never found nothin. Scott said Nat said she asked Bucky about the singing but he wouldn't say a word about it, just laughing it off as though the Cap couldn't sing. But it got me thinking - so what if Howard Starks minions couldn't find anything? They weren't from the 'hood ya know? You gotta know people, trust 'em, if they gonna give up somethin precious. So I put the word out at Franks pawn shop, you know if they come across anything, or know who to ask. Well, a few weeks later I got a call from old Frank himself. Seems he remembered a neighbour of Sarah and her son who'd been in the same TB ward as Nurse Rogers but had survived! Attributes it to Sarah giving her something before she passed on, and she kept that stuff for her son Little Stevie, and don't you know Nat won't let go of that nickname even under threat of death, But Little Stevie turned into Captain America and drove a plane into the ice and never came back to Brooklyn so she passed Sarah's stuff down to her daughter then to her son to his daughter until Franks great granddaughter puts the word out and that's all she wrote man! Except it ain't cause the Cap came outta the ice and now I had to convince him to come out with me to Red Hook yo! And the quickest way to get Steve Fuckin Rogers to follow you is with the promise of the best cubano sandwich he's ever had in his life. Don't forget he's a food vampire bro! And dudes most relaxed after he's eaten his four sandwiches and a box of Girl Guide cookies from these niñas who set up shop outside - little hustlers know a target when they see one! Between the two of us we bought three cases to bring back to the clubhouse. But there's one more mission we gotta complete, so I say I wanna say hello to an old friend and we go into Franks place and don't you know Steve Fuckin Rogers recognizes Frank right away 'Hey Frankie!' he says like it's been a week or something, well I guess it hasn't really been that long for him being frozen most of the century and all. Frank gives some Brooklyn salute or somethin then gets right down to business sayin 'I guess you're here for your mothers things' The confusion on my poor mans face! Lookin from me to Frank back and forth until Frank takes mercy on him and pulls out what is now and forever known as the Happy Crying Souvenir box. It's got Sarah's rosary, a song book in Latin and one in Irish or something and a letter, a letter for Little Stevie and you know I teared up at that point yo, I said I was sensitive! But I was smilin' and Frank was chattering away about how he'd found this stuff and the golden aura starts to fill the place and I'm suddenly swallowed up by it, biceps crushing my neck but all gentle like, like being embraced by a huge warm teddy bear made of concrete, that's what it's like to be hugged by Steve Fuckin Rogers, and he just says to me in this super legit old school gangsta voice I have only ever heard in The Godfather, 'Thank you, Luis. An stop callin me Steve Fuckin Rogers' And when I get released and can finally take a breath I take his massive hand, look him in his eyes and say, 'Anytime Little Stevie' and dude just shoves me like a Saint Bernard pushing over his little chihuahua buddy, and it goes on like that and when we get back to the clubhouse brandishing cookies and happy stories from the hood we turn that shit into a party. Bucky was so happy he made me chilaquiles from my ma's secret recipe, as though you can keep a secret from Slice 'n Dice Barnes. I even got a kiss from Nat and one from Barton too, though dude was on a pretty crazy sugar high from all those cookies so he totally denies it. And that's the story of the first time I got a hug from Steve." ⭐️

#Luis and his stories

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worldslyrics · 4 years

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SKYBOX Lyrics-Gunna Lyrics, Gunna Sang this song Which is very beautiful and attractive song. SKYBOX Lyrics is released on 2020. SKYBOX Lyrics-Gunna Lyrics song is a great choice for you, If you want to be a singer then Sing this hot and lovely SKYBOX Lyrics which is sang by your favorite singer Gunna. SKYBOX Lyrics-Gunna Lyrics

SKYBOX Lyrics-Gunna Lyrics

Uh (Taurus) Uh

Hey (hey), hey (hey), hey (hey) Put some diamonds in Chrome Hearts lens Bought a new Benz, lost some more friends Stretchin’ my hands, money all in F*ckin’ her friend, break her in bed Hundred in tens, count it in hands Trust done got thin, keep a FN I gotta go (go), I gotta spend I drove a boat, I’ll drive again Ain’t got no note, I ain’t got no rent I am a GOAT, I am a man (yeah) We in the low, we smokin’ dope (ah) We keep it close, you with the folks (oh) Give him a dose (uh), give me some throat Lil’ bitty hoe, you already know (you know) Bitch, we the topic, just ask for the toppings You know that they copyin’ you, whoa (you, whoa) They cleanin’ and moppin’, these bitches, they hop in I couldn’t fall out with the bro, uh Hotter than Taki’s, I like it, I cop it Ain’t nobody stoppin’ the Ghost, uh (nobody stoppin’ the Ghost) Smoke Lodi Dodi, we sit in the lobby We just rented out the whole floor, uh

Gettin’ high in the skybox, I can see, yeah (see, yeah) Hot spot and it’s plushed out, and it’s lit, yeah (yeah) Screwed, chopped, hmm, Gucci socks, got ’em drippin’ (drippin’) F*ck the cops (uh), we can’t be stopped, just admit it (‘mit it) Paint the town (town), and slime committed (‘mitted) Bloodhound (hound), mm, cold hard Crippin’ (cold hard Crippin’) Best part (yeah), we got all the vibes with it (vibes) Head start (start), you can’t catch up, so forget it (‘get it)

That’s no cap, I’m in the ‘Ghini (yeah) This really rap, this ain’t a gimmick (uh) I had to trap, now I got plenty I’m in the castle f*ckin’ a genie (genie) I popped a capsule, she wanna wrestle (whoa) I done got tackled, drunk on the Henny (Henny) Turned to a saddle, I had to handle (whoa) I’m ’bout to smack ’em both on the fanny (fanny) I put four twelves in the V12 (ooh) My Benz truck startin’ to rattle (whoa, whoa) She say she smell I’m doin’ well When I wanna f*ck, it don’t matter (uh-uh) Bitch, I’m a shark, I’m not a whale Lean in my cup and my bladder (my bladder) I got it on lock like I’m in jail Soon as they buck, they gettin’ splattered (get splat) I’m ’bout to drop and no, I cannot flop Climbin’ straight to the top like a ladder (a ladder) Niggas play tough when they talk on the internet But they ain’t ever gon’ hit ’em, uh I took a loss and and it made me a boss Like now look, I’m doin’ better than ever (I’m better than ever) They cause you to flop, Biscotti when I’m coughin’ I’m tryna get higher than ever (high)

SKYBOX Lyrics-Gunna Lyrics

Artist: Gunna Released: 2020

#worldslyrics #lyrics #songlyrics #latestlyrics #newlyrics

#Worldslyrics #Lyrics

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trapangeles · 4 years

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Lil Baby Feat. Gunna - Heatin Up (Official Video)

Stream/Download Lil Baby’s New Album “My Turn”: https://qualitycontrol.lnk.to/MyTurnYD

Follow Lil Baby Everywhere: https://www.instagram.com/lilbaby_1/

https://twitter.com/lilbaby4PF

https://www.facebook.com/4pflilbaby

www.iamlilbaby.com

[Intro] (Cook that shit up, Quay) 4PF look like we hit licks how we sell bricks We don't sell shit, we just make hits, yeah Turn up [Verse 1: Lil Baby] Keepin' my composure, never sober Never chokin', always smokin doja Fuck 'em if they gettin' over Got a Moncler coat because the kid the coldest I ain't changed, I stayed the same and maintained It's safe to say the kid gettin' older Forever gang, I'm never switchin' over Made a lane and niggas can't get over I can't match with rappers, they be bogus Really get a pack and keep the over Big dripper, stand up in the ocean Everybody trappin', we get loads in He ain't 4PF if he ain't got motion Made a half a ticket off promotion Shout out Swishers Sweet, they keep me rollin' But if we catch the opp, we gotta smoke him Ridin' 'round with Dracs like we OVO I got some racks and I want some more Still got them passin' the hood, call it give-and-go Keep a nigga main bitch in a figure-four Let me fuck when I want, I just come and go Man, these racks gettin' too big for these skinny clothes I might put me an M in some big Girbaud Let lil' bro hit the stick, had start gettin' old I spent five hundred racks on a Lambo' And didn't even know how to make that motherfucker go On my birthday, I just wanna lift the door Barely flex, but don't play with me, period Shooters follow behind in a Urus In the Rolls truck, I feel like a tourist I'm the one from the bottom who sold all my partners them pounds Used to drive in a Buick [Chorus: Lil Baby & Gunna] Hot, hot, hot, I'm heatin' up I fuck with slimes and I'm gonna bust (Bah, bah) He can't put on that drip, he ain't one of us How you ridin' in a Benz and a Tonka truck? How you got everybody lit, pipin' up? Oh, she bad with no swag, I can pipe her up Made my last one my last one, I'm wifin' her Count the money up fast like I'm typin' somethin' I'm the type to get active and never run (Wunna) [Verse 2: Gunna] Keep the Rugers, my niggas ain't scared of nothin' (Nah) And ain't no rules, you got racks, you can get it done (Yeah) On a light day, I keep me a honey bun (One hundred) Makin' hit after hit, call me Barry Bonds (Hits) For this Christmas, I bought everybody guns (Swear) Bustin' choppers and FN's for everyone (Grrat) Take that roof off the car, let her feel the sun (Wow) My bro go see his bop-bop five times a month (Yeah) Got this bitch out the college, she suckin' and swallow (Uh) I stick it in, she feel it in her gut (in her gut) We don't run from our problems, we stackin' up guala and guala I'm tryna get that mega bucks (Racks) We them drippers, lil' nigga, best watch your step (Them drippers) This top shelf, got forty designer belts (Drip) 4PF look like the new BMF Think I'm deaf, got stones in my right and left (Ice) How you crank up the car? Ain't no key in there Just pull up, spin they block, and get out of there (Get out of there) Wake up, have a hard time findin' what to wear Treat these hoes like a tire, I keep a spare Want a strap because I'm war ready (War) Check the trust account, it's more fetti (Yeah) Skydweller, Jubilee, and a Presi' (No cap) Hundred-fifty plain Richard Millie (No cap) I'ma milk the game until it's empty Lil cuzzo spit that flame until it's empty (Yeah) I am not a killer, but don't tempt me (Nah) Spendin' rate 'bout thousand to a fifty [Chorus: Lil Baby] Hot, hot, hot, I'm heatin' up I fuck with slimes and I'm gonna bust (Bah, bah) He can't put on that drip, he ain't one of us How you ridin' in a Benz and a Tonka truck? How you got everybody lit, pipin' up? Oh, she bad with no swag, I can pipe her up Made my last one my last one, I'm wifin' her Count the money up fast like I'm typin' somethin' I'm the type to get active and never run #LilBaby #HeatinUp #MyTurn #Gunna Music video by Lil Baby, Gunna performing Heatin Up. © 2020 Quality Control Music, LLC, under exclusive license to UMG Recordings, Inc.

trapLAXradio On The Air Now!

Recently Played Songs on trapLAXradio

The Latest Music, Videos, Ent……

#Lil Baby #Gunna #Heatin Up #Rap #QC

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nezzfiction · 5 years

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ENMY Chapter 83 - Life’s A Gamble

Chapter Synopsis: Salem’s war on Vacuo continues, while Team ENMY tackle some issues of their own within the city.

Series Synopsis: Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies. For her, that might very well be yesterday’s enemies. Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four will comprise Team Enemy(ENMY).

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below

Life’s a Gamble

Alea Iacta Est.

Yang’s body spasmed uncontrollably.

The bedrest her arm was tied to, threatened to break off from the violent bucking of her body.

“Neo…! Neo…!” she grunted repeatedly.

Her pleasure senses dialed higher with the blindfold on. Every little touch, every little run of Neo’s fingers across her skin, amplified over what felt like a hundredfold. Yang twisted and squirmed with ecstasy. Her toes curled into their bedsheets.

She would have leapt off the mattress, if Neo hadn’t been holding her down so firmly.

“I’m close…!” she moaned, breathless.

In response, her wife dug deeper between her thighs.

Neo’s irises blared red. Their Auras, as well as their souls, infused—becoming more entwined with each passing peak. The surge of gratification granted Yang a greater and greater high until…

“NEO! I’M CU—!!!”

Just then, the sound of a door being kicked open interrupted everything.

“Okay, you kinky lovebirds. Emergency meeting. We gotta hoof it to Temujin’s ASAP.”

“EM?!”

Yang felt one side of her blindfold lift up, and saw Emerald grinning down with a sadistic smirk.

“Did you finish?”

*Sigh* “…You totally timed that on purpose,” Yang accused.

“Nah. It’s not like I could hear you through the walls or anything. Now, up and at ‘em!”

The green-haired girl then, picked up a few of the trace underwear littering the floor and tossed them on Yang and Neo’s heads.

“Just two more minutes?”

Emerald whipped her gun out and pulled the trigger once. The shot cut the rope holding up Yang’s hand.

“Fine…”

Without another word, Emerald left the room.

Although Yang was clearly annoyed, Neo on the other hand, looked delighted at the little bit of torture. The petite girl playfully leaned next to her wife’s ear and gnawed on it sharply, before whispering with sweet seduction—

“tiL ToNighT.”

Neo then, got off and began to change. With extreme reluctance, Yang followed suit. When they were dressed, the two joined Emerald and Mercury outside.

“…? What’s eating you?” Mercury asked, while they started to walk.

“Not Neo,” Yang answered with an unsatisfied grunt. “So, what’s going on? Salem done getting ready to kill us?

“Nope. It’s actually good news for once,” Emerald answered. “Temujin’s finally in the last round of negotiations with Cinder and the ice queen. They put a rush order on the treaty when we told them the world was ending. Now, we just gotta be there for some formalities.”

“Do we really have to be there?

“Yeah, as if-boredom-could-kill-we’d-all-be-pushing-daisies as it is, we do. Once we’re done, you two can go back to having your kinky little S&M sesh. But for now, work.”

“Y’know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a little bit jealous, Em.”

“Yes. Everything you guys are doing, I want to do a million times over with Cinder,” Emerald let out a frustrated growl. “But the only way I even get to see her, is through some stupid ass meeting about some political mumbo garbo.”

“Did not mean to step on that landmine…”

“Like, can the world just take a hint? Just let us wrap this shit up, so we can head back to Atlas, so me and Cinder can FUCK! GOD!”

Our leader’s mind finally snapped like a popsicle stick.

“Right?” Yang side-mouthed to Neo.

“I mean, am I right? Merc! Back me up on this!”

Emerald turned to her partner expectantly to find him walking along with a complicated sway.

“Merc?”

“…Yeah. We needa fuck Cinder,” he mumbled absentmindedly.

“What’s with you? I don’t expect you to be happy-go-lucky or anything, but we did finally get to ice the last of your asshole family. You’re not gonna tell me you don’t feel satisfied with that?”

“That’s not it. Of course, I’m glad Jupiter probably has maggots treating his scrambled entrails like a smorgasbord.”

“Nasty.”

“I just,” he paused. “With the stuff that’s happened, and the wedding, I think…”

“…Yeeeessss?”

“I think I’m ready to talk about my dad.”

A hushed silence fell over them, as the other three stopped walking.

“Well, can’t say I saw that coming,” Emerald said, before pulling out a diary from her back pocket. “I was planning on giving this to you later, but now’s a good as time as any.”

Mercury took it and flipped through some of the pages.

“This is…”

“Your dad’s diary. We’re ready to talk whenever, Merc. Glad I didn’t have to be the one to push the issue.”

“Did you read it?”

“’Course, I read it.”

“Right. Don’t know why I expected you to lie about that.”

Emerald ruffled Mercury’s quaff.

“Silly butt face. You don’t have secrets.”

Following her lead, Yang gave him a friendly shoulder bump, while Neo booped his nose.

Mercury spent a few seconds fixing his hair and trying to stifle the happiness he felt.

After a few quiet breaths, the young man moved to join the rest of his team.

X X X X X

“I see. It seems despite word we’ve received on our end, Salem appears to have complete control of the situation,” Argent commented.

At the private keep, where the highest authorities of Vale once gathered, only a few choice officers of the Mistral-Vale Alliance now met. They were Prime Minister Argent, King Straw, and General Saru of the Armada. A sparse three occupied the circular conference room intended to hold at least a hundred.

And in the middle, a projection of a young girl and a short boy finished conveying the current events of Salem’s war with Vacuo.

“The Witch and I continue to add more Grimm to our cause,” Bean explained. “Host has tripled in size since initial battle. Time of next significant siege attempt, approaching.”

“Hm,” Argent scratched his silver beard in thought. “And I am correct to assume Salem’s position on our deployment has remained unchanged?”

“Affirmative. Currently, the Witch would like the Alliance to remain on standby. Building resources towards second campaign against Atlas would be my suspected intentions.”

“Or Salem simply wishes us mere mortals to stay out of her way.”

“That is…”

“No, it is fine, Bean. Let Blake know that our forces stay at the ready.”

“…I will, Prime Minister.”

“Take great care, Bean.”

The small boy paused. “I do not understand your meaning.”

“My apprehensions of our sinister overlord are no secret. Which is why, if you ever have need for our assistance, no matter how small, do not hesitate to ask.”

“…”

“Inna,” Argent addressed the hologram next to Bean. “I will trust your judgment. If you perceive the slightest hint the Witch is about to make either of you a sacrificial pawn—”

“I’ll get ma’ self and this little rascal off this rock, and back to Vale.”

“Repercussions be damned. We fight for the peace of Remnant, not Salem.”

“I hear that, Prime Minister. Copied loud and clear.”

“Good. Please keep us posted of the situation.”

“Roger. Inna and Bean, signing off.”

With a two-fingered salute, the holographic image of the two cut out, leaving the officers of the Alliance to themselves.

“So!” Straw clapped his hands, and rubbed them in business-like fashion. “I suppose we can count our blessings Salem has failed to call on our participation for this battle. The plan continues to proceed smoothly, albeit; not without its minor hiccups. It is just as Raven foretold.”

“Our part in this war is over,” General Saru added. “Salem will soon accumulate enough Grimm to make the Alliance obsolete. And when that moment passes…”

“Endgame,” Argent muttered with a finality. “Have we received word from Raven, yet?”

“You mean, since her impromptu departure for Vacuo?” Straw needled. “None.”

“That may pose a problem.”

“Not everything can go perfectly according to plan, Minister. This ‘Alliance’ was a desperate gamble from the very outset. We can only act as true gamblers do, and commit to our bet, as it were.”

“Indeed,” Argent nodded solemnly.

The older man’s callused fingers tapped the wood of his armrest.

Straw is right in more ways than one.

All that is left for us to do is to collect the remaining chips we can before the table is set—and the final die is cast.

Argent took out his scroll to check for messages again. The screen indicated no communications from Raven for the hundredth time.

What are you doing, Raven?

Is Temujin such a rogue element that you personally had to go to Vacuo?

…

Or is there something else?

Another secret you’re keeping from everyone?

Argent sank deeper into his chair.

A gamble.

Straw’s description felt too true and too simple for Argent’s liking.

I suppose that is our nature.

No matter what precautions we take, nor the measures we can spend years putting into place,

For us Children of Remnant,

Life may amount to nothing more than a simple gamble in the end.

X X X X X

“Hoh hoh, quite the predicament we find ourselves in,” Temujin gave a low chuckle.

With the sealings of an alliance between Atlas and Vacuo finalized, the two nations discuss the imminent threat approaching their world. This discussion included an overview of Remnant’s origins, the immortals, and the emergency restart mechanism already set mid-motion by the Tree of Balance.

“You don’t sound very worried,” Cinder’s hologram crackled.

“The world is always one step away from imminent self-destruction. If it isn’t this Tree thing, it’s the Grimm, or another war, or the other Kingdoms. This is simply the next problem. If I worried over every single time Remnant tried to off itself, I’d die of stress! Hahaha!”

“Is that so?”

Cinder didn’t believe Temujin for a second.

No, the old woman had some premature idea. It must be related to the Rakis siblings. What else is this woman hiding?

“Are there any more subjects which need addressing?” the Black Queen carried on, despite her misgivings.

“None that I can think of. When can we expect Atlas to honor their word?”

“The Atlesian Fleet has been undergoing deployment arrangements the second the treaty was signed,” Weiss spoke at Cinder’s side. “Atlas reinforcements will arrive as soon as possible.”

“How soon is soon, White Queen?”

“Very soon.”

“How can I be so sure this is no empty-handed promise? I can picture my people dying, and Atlas waiting until the last second to save them. And then, with our strength diminished, simply take the Kingdom the S.D.C. has coveted for so long.”

“Wha-?! Of course, not! Firstly, the S.D.C. no longer operates in such a—!”

Cinder raised her hand to interrupt her fellow regent.

“The thought crossed my mind, but the Kingdom of Atlas stands to benefit more from a relationship of mutual partnership than subservience. After all,” the Black Queen grinned. “Trust is a more important commodity now more than ever for us Children of Remnant.”

“Hmph. Cinder Fall,” Temujin spat, and spared a glance towards Team ENMY. More specifically, Emerald. “It seems your reputation matches the truth. Here’s hoping your tin cans at least make decent cannon fodder for our Kingdom!”

“Wha?!”

Weiss gasped again, but Cinder only let out a polite laugh.

“Well, then. If that concludes matters, my fellow Queen and I have the rest of our army to ready.”

“Your fleet has four days to get here, or Vacuo will sever this alliance.”

“Eight is the earliest they can arrive, and eight will be how long you will have to wait.”

“Six.”

“Six, it is.”

Even though the two communicated from separate continents, over the expanse of a whole body of ocean, the tenuous storm kicked up between them was no lesser had they been in the same room.

After a prolonged staring contest, Cinder gracefully diverted her attention to Team ENMY.

“I expect my ambassadors to carry on with their duties as previously instructed. They will remain at Vacuo’s honorary disposal, at least until our Fleet arrives.”

“If,” they heard Temujin scoff.

“If and when, they arrive. Do you understand?”

“We understand,” Emerald answered for her team.

“Be at ease. It is only an estimation, but our Fleet should arrive on the 25th at 17:00 hours.”

“…Understood.”

Cinder bade Team ENMY a subtle nod, before turning to Temujin once more.

“I think this will be the beginning of a supremely beneficial friendship.”

“Time will tell. The Queens should visit Vacuo one day. I can promise a warm welcome.”

“I can only pray such a time will arrive sooner than we expect.”

And with that, the transmission ended.

Team ENMY was making their way from the throne room, when Emerald established a hallucinated link with her teammates.

“You guys got that, right?” her voice resounded in their heads.

“Ease. 25. 17,” Yang replied. “Emergency channel: EZ 25-17.”

Neo didn’t show any signs, but she was quickly identifying the spies stalking them.

Two on the right.

She watched two figures trailing along what were supposed to be their team’s blindspots.

“I’ve got two more on our left,” Yang added. A slight pink reflected in her irises.

“How do you wanna ditch the escort detail? I doubt we can outrun them,” Mercury advised.

Emerald gave a mental shake of her head.

“They also know about my Semblance, so I can’t hallucinate them that easy. Besides, I need some quality time. We’ll run Plan H.”

“Wait, I don’t think I telepathically heard you right,” Yang’s voice chimed in. “Did you just say, ‘Plan H’?”

“Soft H. Like, lowercase h. Plan h.”

“Right. Well, you do remember the h in Plan h stands for hostile, right?”

Emerald telepathically shrugged.

“We got an official alliance with Vacuo and a favor Temujin owes us. I’d say we’ve earned some good grace that she’ll let this little bit slide.”

“How sure are you?”

“If all else fails, just play the ’newly-wedded goddaughter’ card.”

“Geez. It’s not even a minute after the treaty was signed.”

“Which makes it the perfect time to take advantage.”

Yang, Neo, and Mercury stopped walking and dropped back, while Emerald made a sudden dash towards one of the hall’s windows. Another second later, and she was gone.

“You sure you can do this?” Mercury asked Yang, paying careful attention to the empty sleeve of her right arm. “You can go ahead and join Em.”

“Nah, I got this,” she waved with a relaxed confidence. “’Sides, I got a new thing I wanna try out.”

As soon as Temujin’s spies made to chase Emerald, the remaining teammates of ENMY moved to cover their leader’s escape. A triple concert of simultaneous kicks rang out against the attempting pursuers, knocking them into the afternoon light.

“Is there a reason Team ENMY is showing sudden hostilities against palace guards?” a deep voice loomed from just around the corner.

A large, muscle-bound man strode into view with a strong purposed gait. The blue rings blemishing his skin pulsed with Aura. A thick air of intimidation leaked immediately from his simple entrance.

“Well, if it isn’t General Nai,” Yang snickered. “You know, my dad told me you’re the best martial artist in Remnant. Maybe, possibly, ever in history.”

“And yet, you show no signs of backing down.”

“Are you kidding? Why would I ever pass up an opportunity to fight someone so fun?”

“’Fun’, you say?”

“Oh, yeah. General Nai: one of only four to ever earn a Khan’s title during Vacuo’s war for independence.”

With a playful wink, one of Yang’s irises went from red to fiery pink. She extended her left arm, and beckoned him forward.

“C’mon. Show me what the ‘Fist of Vacuo’ is all about.”

X X X X X

Emerald made her rounds, making sure there was no tail.

One jump, ahead of the hitman~

One hit, ahead of the flock~♪

I think, I’ll take a stroll around the block~

She sung to herself quietly, while stealthily navigating through the streets.

Eventually, the girl reached her destination. It was one of the few places within the city she could find any real measure of privacy.

“Hey, Brig,” she greeted the blacksmith. “Any of Temujin’s goons hiding in the back?”

Brigid let out a sigh, before pointing the wrench she was holding to the inventory room. Emerald dropped a number of high-quality Dust crystals on the workbench nearby as a bribe.

Once she shut the door behind her, she then, immediately barricaded it with whatever furniture and tools were available.

Won’t hold for long.

Emerald worked her scroll, punching in the code to the emergency channel. Once connected, the images of Weiss and Cinder appeared. Apparently, they had been waiting since the meeting was adjourned.

“Are you alone?” Cinder asked.

“As alone as can be.”

“The others?” Weiss asked.

“Buying me time. Don’t worry, the scene won’t be big.”

“Scene?!”

“Won’t be big. Is this thing on?”

“Hah-hah,” Weiss huffed.

“On to the subject at hand,” Cinder called them to order. “I require an impartial assessment. Temujin is an unknown variable to say the least.”

“Emphasis on ‘least’,” Emerald snarked.

“How much can we trust her?”

“Not at all,” the answer came immediately.

“……That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”

“But I think we can trust she hates Salem. And nothing’s more trust inspiring that a common enemy—or common hate for some crazy bitch that wants to bring about the apocalypse and rule the world.”

“That much is true.”

“She’s got her secrets and her own motives. Wouldn’t surprise me if she had half a dozen schemes cooking backstage. But I don’t think she’ll try to screw us over.” She paused. “For now.”

“I see.” Cinder glanced briefly to Weiss, who nodded. “That will do for the moment. On to other matters of concern.”

Emerald gulped.

“The utilization of the Bridge Project. Explain yourself.”

Cinder was referring to the ability Yang activated in order to bring herself and Emerald back to Vacuo through the traversal of the Never Realm.

“Mercury and Neo were in trouble. I take full responsibility for ordering Yang to use it.”

“Hmph. As if we would believe such an obvious lie. You and Yang share equal parts of the blame, but punishments can wait until later. What possible fallout can we expect?”

“Honestly, Temujin probably thinks Yang learned that trick from Raven. She’s smart, but she won’t think it’s anything more than that. And I doubt the Rakis siblings know the full story of what it can do either.”

“And the more pressing point?”

“Yeah,” Emerald bowed her head slightly. “Yang activated it in front of Blake, which basically means she did it in front of Salem.”

“That’s a concern,” Weiss weighed in. “I doubt she understands the significance behind what Yang did either, however…”

“It does not change the fact an integral part of our strategy has been exposed,” Cinder finished the thought. “We cannot discount the chance Salem will look more deeply into the matter. Hopefully her war with Vacuo will occupy most of her attention.”

“From this point forward, you must do everything to keep Project Bridge a secret. Even if another similar situation arises, you should avoid using the ability again, or Salem might get suspicious.”

“Sure thing, ice queen,” Emerald muttered.

“This is serious.”

The tone of Cinder’s warning made the green-haired girl stiffen.

“I understand. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.”

“…”

“Hm?”

“……I miss you terribly.”

Emerald blinked a few times, before registering the words Cinder just said.

“Really?” she couldn’t help but question.

“Of course. Do you think I meant it as a light remark?”

“No, no. Just… I miss you too.”

Emerald’s chest tightened so hard, she thought her blood might stop circulating. She would be the first to admit their relationship had its complications—especially with Raven involved. But hearing Cinder not only confirm her affections, but admit she felt the same way, brought a strange, unbridled happiness to Emerald.

“I want to see you so bad,” she choked.

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

“Very soon, I promise.”

Emerald held the scroll close and kissed the screen.

…

“Um,” Weiss’s voice crackled awkwardly. “Should I go?”

Just then, something heavy slammed against the door of the room.

“Take care,” Cinder said with a tender tone. “Try not to get into too much trouble.”

“I’ll try, but I don’t know. Someone might have to bail me out,” Emerald chuckled.

“If such a time comes, I suppose it will be one more reason to make my visit to Vacuo that much earlier.”

“I love you.”

“And I you.”

The door burst open, and at the same time, the communication cut out.

After the dust settled, and there were no longer flying pieces of debris, Emerald’s pursuers stepped into the backroom. One in particular, scowled with crossed arms.

“Done with your phone call?”

“No! You guys ruined a perfectly good moment! Now I know how Yang felt earlier.”

“’Scuse me?” Ilia offset her brow.

“Nothing. So, what happens now?”

“We execute you……is what I want to say, but Temujin said to just arrest you.”

“Yay~”

X X X X X

Nai’s Semblance was Poison.

It coated every inch of his skin and was fatal on contact, if he so choosed. One single touch, one slight brush, and it would’ve been over for any opponent. Not the strongest of warriors or the most talented of healers would be able to undo its lethality if Nai concentrated the dose.

Still, as if to spit in the face of the threat it presented, Yang ducked and weaved between Nai’s blows without flinching.

Her unblinking eyes fixated on his. A pink reflection of himself danced in the irises of the girl that was only shoulder high. An unnerving nature lent itself to Yang’s movements—made her aware, too aware of Nai’s next attacks.

It was almost as if she knew the larger fighter’s incoming sequence of techniques before he himself did.

What is this girl?

What in the world does she see?

…

Perhaps, capturing her uninjured is impossible.

Yang side-stepped back and forth. Nai’s combo missed by a narrow margin, before the fiery-headed girl slipped in close. A hard left hook staggered the man, and made him retreat some spaces.

No, it is impossible without injury.

Nai’s posture visibly changed. His center of gravity lowered and his rings oozed a dark-sea hue. A sharpness honed in the air around him.

Yang took notice, and steadied her breathing. Her confident smile didn’t diminish in the least. In fact, a growing excitement seemed to exude the golden boxer.

She beckoned him forth again with her single hand.

Nai didn’t fall for such blatant taunts, but he did answer the challenge.

A forceful charge exploded from the balls of his bare feet. Despite his stature, there was no questioning his agility. A gust of wind propelled from a mere feint.

Nai didn’t know if Yang had any way of looking into the future, like the Rakis siblings did. If so, the feint would prove an empty effort. But he needed to gauge his opponent’s abilities.

His lead hand drew back, and he saw Yang standing her ground, unfazed.

It is possible she possesses some form of Precognition.

Very well.

What I do does not change.

As Nai ripped one of the most vicious fists in his arsenal, he momentarily had a vision of Precognition of his own.

A body-weighted counter landed across his chin. His left punch met nothing but air. Yang sported a malicious smile, while her knuckles shattered skin and bone.

But the prophecy never came.

…

Nai’s punch stopped just short of Yang’s nose. The girl no longer wore an expression of enjoyment, but refrain.

Before Nai could question her, Yang raised her only arm in surrender. Behind, he could see Neo and Mercury doing the same.

It wasn’t two seconds after Emerald was brought into the building, did she give the telepathic order for her team to stand down.

“Sorry,” Yang winked her iris back to its usual red.

“Rain check.”

X X X X X

In an extremely large oasis, Raven made her way through the brush.

The land she walked was more akin to a jungle than anything else. Only the scenery around Shade Academy could have matched the terrain’s lusciousness. But then, the plant life around Shade was also green. In comparison, every blade of grass, every sheet of leaf, every branch of bark, was painted a jet black in this oasis.

And in the jungle’s cover, burning pupils stalked Raven’s footsteps.

She passed the monstrous Grimm without paying any mind. Many of which, were A-Class and higher.

She could feel their presence, as if they were pressing against her skin. Their snarls released an odor she could smell, as if they were breathing right in front of her nostrils. The disturbing noises they made could be heard, like they were scraping the inside of her eardrums.

Eventually, Raven made her way to a cave hidden behind a waterfall.

Named criminals and infamous warriors occupied the makeshift living space. They glared threateningly at the woman. Many of whom, knew her by reputation. Others, more personal than they would have liked with a few scars to remember her by.

As she continued to pass through the den of deadliest dangers, the woman finally came upon a couple of “friendly” faces.

“Bean, Inna. You two look well.”

“Are ya lookin’ fer Blake?” the cowgirl asked.

“Yes.”

Inna tipped her hat down one of the labyrinth’s pathways, and Raven descended further into the dark.

The caverns extended deeper and deeper into the earth. None of the desert’s air made it into this place, where the atmosphere was cool and moist. The echoing drips of water let Raven know there was an underground reservoir at the end of her stroll.

In the faint dark, she passed Adam leaning against the wall. The young man’s arm was in a sling and seemed to be suffering some second-degree burns.

Raven didn’t offer any greetings, and had to fight down the urge to laugh before she passed.

“Blake?”

In the middle of an underground pool, Raven saw Blake standing in its waters. Luminescent plant-life at the base providing the only source of light.

The swordswoman circled the rim to the young Faunus’s front, half-expecting to see the presence of Salem.

…

But to her surprise, a familiar smile met her in return.

“Raven, you’re here.”

“Yeah, Blake. I’m here.”

The cat Faunus waded to the edge where the other stood.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“So am I,” Raven crouched down. “So am I.”

She scratched Blake’s ears briefly, before petting her head. Her hands went to the towel nearby, which she used to wrap around Blake, as the girl came out of the water.

While Blake put on her clothes, Raven took notice of the great scratches carved along the walls. There were some pulverized boulders and dried stains of blood. She could easily imagine the girl venting herself on the surroundings.

“Where’s Salem?” Raven asked.

“I…don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I’d be skeptical too. Is it really me? Or is it Salem pretending to be me?”

“So, which is it?”

“I don’t think I can even tell anymore, to be honest,” Blake rubbed her arm uncomfortably. “I think it’s just me right now.”

“How do you know?”

“After… after what happened in Vacuo, I was upset. I was so upset, and angry, and sad.” The girl shook her head in dismay. “Salem kept trying to get into my head, after I blocked her out… after I saw Yang carry Neo away.”

“I see.”

“She kept telling me it should’ve been me Yang should’ve saved. She kept saying I was the one meant to be with Yang—and that it was me who she should have married.”

“…”

“But that isn’t true.”

“…”

“After what I did, I realized I was becoming the monster I was trying to protect her from. When did it become me, Raven? When did it all go so wrong?”

Raven approached, and braced Blake from behind.

“I wish I was there. I wish I could’ve seen it.”

“Seen what?” Raven asked.

“I wish I could’ve seen Yang get married. I don’t deserve it, but I just wish—”

“No more wishes for you, I think.”

The sound of the icy-chilled voice made Blake and Raven step back with their guard up.

“Seeing as you’re not quite ready for the task yet, I deemed it necessary to see this war through its completion—personally.”

The figure of Salem crept from the shadows, and it felt like the dull glow of the cavern grew significantly dimmer in her presence.

“You two have been proving rather disappointing as of late. It’s a shame really, but no matter. I fully intend to see our ambitions through.”

A dense darkness billowed from her. A darkness that surged her consciousness through all the Grimm roaming Vacuo.

“It’s time I wrote the last chapters of this story myself.”

X X X X X

In the dank prison cell of the Hanging Gardens, Mercury sat on the ground without his legs.

His attention rested solely in the diary in front of him. Every page he finished, he violently flipped to the next one. No concern at all was paid to situation he found himself in.

“…ffffFFFFFUUUUUUUUCCCKKK!!!”

“Seriously, Em?” Yang asked, while cuddling with Neo on the only cot.

“How long do they plan on keeping us here?! Hey! Guard! How long are we gonna be here?! Hey!”

“Dude.”

“What? They’ve held us here forever!”

“It’s been an hour.”

“……Oh.”

“You really haven’t noticed?”

“No.” Emerald replied. “Man, I do not do well in prison.”

“I’ll say.”

“Can’t you guys just bust us out of here?!”

“Well, yeah. But you don’t want us to actually break out, do you?”

“No! I just wanted to say it. Careful. I might ask you to seriously do it in an hour, but under no circumstances are you to do it.”

“It might happen just so I can get you to stop yelling.”

“Freakin—I can pick this lock! I could so pick this lock!” she shook the metal bars. “This might be the flimsiest jail cell in the whole city, and Temujin specifically put us in it. She’s good at torture.”

“My mom was a prostitute.”

Emerald turned around slowly, while Neo and Yang sat up from the bed.

“My mom was a prostitute,” Mercury repeated.

He dangled the diary, and let the pages fan through.

“Doesn’t mention a name, a hospital—I was probably just born in that stupid house. Nothing. She’s an anonymous. One of I don’t know how many! I probably have like millions of step siblings out there!”

“I dunno about millions. Maybe, thousands?” Emerald brought up, before being jabbed in the arm by Yang. “Ow!”

“My dad is such a FUCKING asshole! My mom’s probably not any better!”

“Probably not.”

“I don’t even wanna find her anymore!”

“Easier that way.”

“Why even bother?!”

“Why even.”

“Is that weird? Is it weird, I don’t give a damn about finding my own mom? Or that I wanna just leave all this crap behind and forget it?”

“Oh, Merc.” Emerald walked over and slumped down beside her partner. “Take it from a gal who shot her own parents.”

“You mean cuckoos pretending to be her parents.”

“Potato, potahto.”

“No one says potahto.”

“Parents…are a waste of time.”

“Not true,” Yang interrupted briefly. “But go on.”

“Besides,” Emerald continued. “I’m your mom. So, don’t worry about this stuff, dummy.”

“Wow…” Mercury wowed.

“And Neo’s your sister. Yang is your sister too.”

“Wait, why are my sisters married?”

“Is that the part you’re gonna focus on?”

“It’s definitely the part that stands out.”

“Look, I’m gonna tell you what you already know, but you think you don’t know for sure.” Emerald took the diary out of Mercury’s hands, and tossed it to Yang. “Your family isn’t some sociopath cult of assassins. They weren’t your abusive dad or whoever your mom was. They’re this girl, and that girl, and me!” she pointed to Neo, Yang, and then, herself.

“We give a damn about you. Maybe even two damns. So, you do what you wanna do, and we’re with you. You wanna cry, Yang is totally the type to cry with you. Bleeding heart.”

“Hey!”

“You wanna search for your mom? I’ll help you find her. You wanna freakin’ stab some people cause you’re angry? Neo will go with you.”

YEAH!

“That’s all I’m gonna say. So, what’s it gonna be?”

“I wanna burn my old house,” Mercury answered immediately.

…

“When we get back to Atlas, I want all of us to burn my house down. I want to burn the Black Family’s estate down to the ground. I want to burn EVERYTHING!”

…

Yang set the diary she was holding on fire with her Semblance and threw it on the ground.

“YEAHH!!!” she roared, which prompted the rest of Team ENMY to roar.

““YEAHHH!!!””

The four looked to be in the throes of absolute lunacy while screaming around a small burning fire.

And it was in this situation which Temujin, Minerva, Nai, and Raven arrived to.

“…Them?” Minerva asked skeptically. “These four are the ones we are entrusting to save Vacuo?”

“Remnant…actually,” Raven sighed.

“The next generation—I like their spirit,” Nai nodded appraisingly.

“HAHAHA! Tis only fitting the ones with a gambler’s chance in hell to overturn a predetermined fate is a bunch of crazy idiots!” Temujin cackled. “Ah…”

“Shit.”

#rwby #yang xiao long #emerald sustrai #neopolitan #mercury black #enmy

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news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog · 6 years

Text

I miss the days before everyone was addicted to streaming services

FOMO, recognized by many as a soul-crushing feeling of missing out on something wonderful, is brought on by a variety of different circumstances.

The sensation is pretty common nowadays. It can hit when you see friends engaging in a Twitter discussion without you, or co-workers posting photos from a happy hour that you missed. I've experienced a ton of FOMO in my 25 years of life, but one of my least favorite forms is the FOMO that arises when people are bonding in front of me over a movie or television show I've never seen.

As someone who loves television and hates feeling left out, whenever this happens I find myself thinking, "GAH, I miss life before streaming services."

SEE ALSO: Learning to let go of your entertainment backlog

Now you might be thinking to yourself, well, if you really loved television you'd think streaming was the best thing since sliced bread DVD box sets. And I do. I have Netflix and Hulu subscriptions and spend so many hours in front of my television that I've surely left an imprint in my couch. But all the different platforms, hundreds of exclusive originals, and subscription prices in the world today really pile on the pressure.

I can't help but feel like a movie and TV show version of Ash Ketchum, in the sense that I GOTTA WATCH 'EM ALL. But I can't. So here I am, longing for the days before streaming — a time when tuning into the latest shows felt like a far more relaxed and even playing field.

The problems with streaming

Think about it: Today we've got streaming services like Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime Video, and HBO Now. And those are just some of the most popular.

I can't even think about Sling TV, and all the other cable alternatives out there right now, so for the purpose of this article let's concentrate on those first four. Each costs money and each creates its own original content, so if you don't have subscriptions to all of them, you're definitely missing out on something.

If you don't have Netflix, you're isolated from hundreds of originals, including one of the greatest romantic comedies the world has seen in years. You're also woefully behind in the Marvel Universe, there's a good chance you've never experienced Stranger Things, and you have yet to be blessed by the Fab Five Guardian Glow-Up Angels that are the cast of Queer Eye!

No Hulu? That means no Handmaid's Tale, no Casual, and where the HECK are you watching re-runs of The Mindy Project?

While I personally have access to all those brilliant programs, I don't have HBO Now, which means I've sadly never had the pleasure of seeing other great shows like Insecure or Veep. It means that during Game of Thrones season I walk into the office every Monday unable to participate in my colleagues impassioned discussions. And I'm fine with that, but it doesn't mean I don't feel left out.

Believe it or not, the most devastating streaming FOMO I have yet to experience isn't related to not knowing what's up in Westeros. It comes from not owning an Amazon Prime account.

For years I was perfectly content living a Prime-less existence, considering I almost never purchase anything on Amazon.com. But in 2017, everything changed. The Golden Globe-winning Marvelous Mrs. Maisel came out, and I, a die-hard Amy Sherman-Palladino fan since Gilmore Girls first aired in 2000, was unable to experience the magic. I don't feel I should be isolated from content simply because I don't want a Prime account. Like, put that shit on the CW or something, please!

After a week of listening to people rant and rave over Marvelous Mrs. Maisel's characters, writing, and performances my sadness transformed into anger, and my internal grudge against streaming was born.

It's not just TV...

Sadly, the stresses of streaming aren't simply confined to television — they're creeping into the music world, too. (Lookin' at you, Bey and Jay.)

Apple Music and Spotify are over there duking it out, while Tidal's keeping quality Queen content under lock and key, making non-members feel like they're shamefully living under a cultural rock for days on end.

Ugh should I download Tidal??? Having major FOMO rn pic.twitter.com/uK9gFCasiN

— Andrew🥂 (@_AndrewC17) June 17, 2018

Thankfully, I used an HBO free trial to watch Beyoncé's Lemonade live — because I fear that level of FOMO would have sent me to my grave — but I still had to wait until it was no longer a Tidal exclusive to listen to the actual album. 😒

So while music streaming gives you access to such an overwhelmingly wide library of music, there are cases like when Beyoncé drops an album, for example, in which you can't have timely access unless you pay for a certain subscription. It's straight up peer-pressure, and it's infuriating.

Hello? Is anyone out there?!

Beyond the basic FOMO, streaming stresses lie in the race to binge-watch after an entire original season drops, the overloaded queue, and the feeling that there's simply too much content to consume.

The fast-paced viewing life is fun sometimes, but once in a while I can't help but miss the days of waiting a week between single episodes to find out what happens next, knowing the rest of the world was doing the same. Now there's cable AND streaming to worry about!

While writing this article I began to wonder if I was alone in my love/hate feelings towards streaming, so I sought out some thoughts from my fellow binge-watching colleagues.

Turns out Entertainment Reporter Kellen Beck gets overwhelmed by streaming services, too. "I like streaming, but the pressure of watching everything is something I do not like," Beck said — a topic which he explored further in this piece about coming to terms with your massive entertainment backlog.

But Mashable Culture Writer Martha Tesema offered another perspective, explaining she personally feels far less FOMO nowadays than she did growing up without cable. She likes the fact that streaming lets her watch things on her own terms and that watch shows whenever, wherever. All very valid points.

The solutions

The way I see it, there are a few way to conquer the overwhelming exclusivity of streaming services. The first, and what I'm sure many seem is the easiest, is to succumb to the stress, pull out your wallet, and subscribe to them all.

But you know what? I refuse. In this frustrating scenario, you drop a pretty penny on streaming services for what? Dozens of exclusives and loads of repeat content that exists across multiple platforms? Not to mention an unbearably overwhelming amount of content that you'll likely never have time to even put a dent in... No thank you.

I'm a millennial, and I don't know if you've heard or not but if I ever want to buy a house I shouldn't even spend money on avocado toast — let alone splurge on more than two streaming subscriptions.

Another problem-solving trick of the trade I've been enlightened on is to simply share accounts. Find a friend, a family member, essentially anyone who's willing to save a few bucks and work out a deal to share passwords. Maybe you can pay for two services and share your password in exchange for their passwords for the other two services. That way everyone's happy!

And of course, there's always the Keep Creating New Emails To Take Advantage Of As Many Free Trial Sessions As Needed option. But honestly, that can become a lot of work.

The future of FOMO

When cable TV ruled the world visual entertainment felt more like a leisurely reward and less like a race to educate yourself for the purpose of keeping up with pop culture. There were still different packages and premium channels, sure, but you could pick what you want, pick what you didn't and it was done. Everything was in one place and it was glorious.

But it's 2018 and streaming — with all its frills, bonus packages, and competitive content — looks like it's here to stay for a while. It's messy but it's reality, so I guess it's time to stream on and embrace that FOMO, people.

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campuslately · 7 years

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Kanye West left college to pursue his passion in 1996. He attended American Academy of Art briefly and Chicago State University where he majored in English. His mother Donda West worked as a professor at the time. Can you imagine that conversation the nerve he had to work up to tell his mother he was dropping out of college? Many of us have contemplated the same thought, be it quitting college to follow your dreams or quitting your job to do it. That experience did its part in helping to define Kanye West and his music at that time. But what also shaped his early music was #Collegelife, #GreekLife, and #BlackCollegiateLife which in return helped to shape a generation and a culture. Kanye West first album “The College Dropout” was one of the first albums to talk about black collegiate life and greek life on a national level. Walk down memory lane with us as CampusLATELY names Kanye West “The Black Collegiate Wordsmith.”

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10 Reasons We Fell For Kanye West!

1.)He took the job he didn’t want to get closer to the job he did want. He saw producing for other artists merely as his entry point into the music business. Roc-A-Fella chief Damon Dash signed him in 2002 with the idea that he’d produce a compilation album for the label’s roster of talent, which at the time included acts like Cam’ron, Beanie Sigel and the Young Gunz, among others.

2.)Everyone who contributed to his first album was an underdog “at that time.” Kanye West pulled “his people” and a lot of his friends he grew up with in Chicago to help him create “The College Dropout” (GLC, Coodie, Chike, Really Doe, Olskool Ice-Gre, JB Marshall).

3.)He is a Poet!