#can't wait for issue 44 at the end of this month | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spn-fanfic-reblog-writes · 2 years

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Hi, dear!

First of all, happy birthday again! 🥳 Hope you're having a great day 🤗

Second, for your birthday challenge, I chose the characters Reader and Dean Winchester, and prompts 25, 30 and 44.

Can't wait to read what you'll come up with 😁

❤

Thanks for the request! You’re the third one! Yay!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Prompts:

25. Do you want me to stop?

30. If something were to happen to you… I don’t think I could take it

44. I might have slept with your robe while you were gone (Sorry!)

Magic dust

WC: ~3K

Warning: fluff. Smut. NSFW. 18+

Author Note: I chose to make them: Plus Size!F!Reader. I hope that is ok? Third one! Yay! I hope you like it. Tenses charged are an issue. Enjoy!

Author Note #2: I apologize. It’s supposed to be a drabble and went much longer. I wasn’t able to get the third one in but when I have more time, might see about doing a part 2. This was fun!

Y/N knew the brothers first by reputation then introduced by Bobby a few years back when she ran into a pair of lamias. The hunt ended well and Y/N enjoyed the craziness of the case with them as they did with her, so they have remained in contact since.

It had been months since Y/N and the Winchesters had hunted together. She had picked up a weird case in a typical suburban area that she couldn’t put her finger on, so she gave up after two weeks and called them for help.

They drove in and met at her hotel room. When they came up to the third floor and knocked, having seen your old Ford Escape was there, but Y/N didn’t answer. They exchanged a look between them and Dean pounded on the door as Sam called you. Still silent except for your ringtone coming from inside the room—one that Dean had recommended for their ringtone of Metallica he liked. Dean moved to the side and drew his gun as Sam backed up doing the same and then kicked the door in.

Y/N laid across the closest queen size bed to the door. A small open box fell on to the bed next to her. Dean ran up to and kept beside her to check her pulse, “She good.” Sam with his gun at the ready checked the small hotel room, “All clear.” He went and closed the door while Dean checked her out.

She was in a pale pink tank top and blue jeans tucked into calf-high black boots. Sam quickly searched in the closet and under the bed and drawers, “Dean.” A hex bag in his hand and anger began to cross his features. He opened and tore up the bag then trashed it.

Dean looked very confused at the bag then at Sam and motioned for him to look at her, “Y/N has pink stuff on her.”

Sam looked at him, “What?” He leaned over her and looked carefully, a fine pink powder dusted much of her face and neck. He saw a pen on the nightstand and took it using it like a stick to turn the box upright. “Whatever it is, it was in the box,” Sam stated.

Dean glanced at the box then back to Y/N. “Maybe after cleaning it off, she’ll wake up?” Dean questioned out loud and moved to the bathroom before Sam could reply to get a wet washcloth. He returned with a warm, wet washcloth and a dry one and started gently to wipe her face and neck off.

Y/N began to stir, her eyebrows slightly furrowed and with a quietly sleepy voice she said , “Stop” as she tried to move her face from the washcloth. She attempted to lift her hands but struggled. Dean smirked at her reaction thinking it was cute. “You got whammied, Y/N.” He said as he wiped where he had removed the powder with the dry washcloth. Her eyes fluttered for a few seconds. When she finally opened her eyes and saw Dean’s face, she smiled brightly at him, “Hey.”

Sam watched the exchange with a quiet chuckle.

“Hey, Sweetheart. Just trying to get this powder off of you,” Dean explained.

“Powdered?” Y/N slurred slightly.

Dean picked up the box with the wet washcloth and moved it to her nightstand away from her after showing her.

“Ugh. That bitch. I’m gonna hurt her,” she attempted to exclaim angrily but sounded more drunk as she slurred her words. She tried getting up but Dean pushed her back down, “No, we don’t know what this stuff did to you. You need to relax.”

“I’m fine. Jennifer said she’d send me some new evidence and apparently this is it,” Y/N looked sleepily annoyed.

She tried to motion to the chest of drawers the tv was on, “My, uh…” She looked confused and the brothers exchanged a worried look. She took a deep breath, “TV. Thing you write on.”

Sam looked and saw the pad of paper. He held up the small pad.

“Yeah, Jennifer and Mitchell…um—“ she suddenly yawned and shook her head. She slowly sat up and Dean leaned away slightly. Y/N blinked a few times. She looked at her hands and shook them out. “I’m tingly,” she looked so confused.

“You ok, Y/N?” Asked Dean, concern written all over his face.

“Brain fog. Haven’t been doing great lately. Thought a case would be a good distraction.” She looked at her pants and jeans but didn’t find anything on them.

Sam had been examining Y/N’s notes on the pad about the case. “Lawrence?”

“That’s them,” Y/N quickly responded. A sudden wave of nausea came over her, “Oo oo oo, I need to shower. I don’t know what this shit is but it ain’t good.”

“Need help?” Asked Dean.

Sam giving Dean a look.

“I think I do,” Y/N said worriedly. “Nausea. Dizziness is slowly becoming an issue…or an ear crystal dislodged?”

The brothers looked at her like she was crazy, “it’s part of your equilibrium. You have fluid with ear crystals that your brain recognizes for balance but if they move, it fucks upyour equalibrium until they get moved back in place.”

“Ear crystals?” Asked Sam.

Y/N looked more annoyed. “Google is your friend. Type in ear crystals.” She rolled her eyes, “It’s human biology, people.” She quickly stood up and instantly regretted it and the dizziness immediately worsened causing her to fall without realizing it.

Dean caught her easily, “Hey, Swerheart. You need to rest.”

“I need to shower,” she replied and stood herself back up. With a deep breath and took a slow step forward with Dean attached to her right arm.

Sam looked at Dean who shrugged and then Sam lifted the notepad motioning silently he will go check it out. Dean nodded as Y/N slowly made it to the bathroom.

Y/N interjected, “If you can, Sam, see if you can determine if the Lawrence’s actually did whatever this is and if so, find out what and if it can be reversed. I might have the ingredients in my backpack or know where to get them depending on rarity. If they didn’t, I don’t know.” She turned on the bathroom light with a grin, “Whoot. Ha. Ha.” She slipped from Dean’s grasp and leaned on the small bathroom counter slowly turned around and stared at the combo shower-bath, brow furrowed.

“Will do,” said Sam and he left.

“How you doing there, Y/N?” Dean asked watching her lean against the counter.

“The dizziness is subsiding,” Y/N said then added, “slowly.” She stood up with her lower back touching the counter’s edge. She looked at Dean, “Nudity an issue for you?”

Dean looked at her confused and stepped in the bathroom. He felt his cock stir some at the thought of seeing Y/N naked.

She explained, ”Could you help me get in the shower? Worried I’ll slip and fall.”

Dean gave his best confident smile and nodded, “Yeah, no problem.” He took off his jacket and threw it on the bed closest to the bathroom then went back and waited for Y/N to tell him what to do next. “What do you need me to do?”

“Would you turn in the shower and just stand there while I work to get undressed?”

Dean nodded and went to the shower turn it to a nice warm temperature and went back to his spot next to her but faced to the shower and away from the mirror to give her what little privacy he could offer. She looked at him and giggled, making him glance at her. “You’re sweet, Dean and it’s a chivalrous gesture, but nudity is nudity, a body is a body, and it’s only sexual if you want it to be, and none of that really bothers me. So, if you want to look then look.” She chuckled at him as she took off her jacket and put it folded on the counter next to her.

Dean looked at her surprised. He knew that she was unlike other hunters he’d met, men or women, and she wasn’t easily won by his charms. He had not ever thought of the human body that way. Not sexualizing it automatically but choosing to or not.

She held onto the counter and Dean’s arm as she kicked off her boots under the sink then stepped on the toe of her sock and pulled and repeated with the other foot.

“Huh? I never thought of doing that,” Dean said looking at her feet.

“I don’t always have good use of my hands so I have to figure out other ways to do things sometimes.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, very interested. Y/N never talked much about herself besides her interests and other typical conversation items. He didn’t know much about her personally.

She smiled at him and looked at him, “I really shouldn’t be hunting but it makes the most sense to me after everything.”

“Oh, I understand that.” He agreed.

She pulled off her tank top and sports bra in one go. Dean was unprepared for the sudden sight of her breasts— soft, a bit bigger than palm size for him , which was plenty, with surprisingly matching colored areolas and nipples to her top, and a pale scar on the outside of her right breasts—and her abdomen, soft, round with some pudge. He wondered how it would feel holding her or kissing her. His cock was enjoying the view a little too much and caused him to cough and turn away as he tried to nonchalantly adjust himself. Stop it. He thought to himself frustrated at how his body wasn’t cooperating.

While she noticed looking her over as she undressed, she mentally shrugged.

He heard her unzip her jeans and then they fell to the floor. “Would you check the temp, please? Don’t want it too hot, ya know?”

“Sure,” he replied as he reached through the curtain and checked the temp with his hands “It’s good.”

“Good,” she replied while she looked down to the floor.

Dean looked to the floor and back up her legs and noticed how muscular her calves were and her thighs were just thick with some stretch marks here and there. “Problem?”

“Just deciding,” she stated. She shrugged, turned away from Dean, and hooked her fingers in the band on both sides. She slowly took them down her legs and bent at the waist, flashing her ass right in front of Dean. She hid a cheeky grin from him as she did, completely intentional.

“Feeling better?” Dean asked when he saw her finish getting undressed.

“Tingly but dizziness seems to almost be gone.”

“You said that before,” Dean asked, curious, but was still faced away from her. “What do you mean by ‘tingly’?”

“Almost like everything is vibrating, not jittery or shaky,” she paused a minute. “Give me your hand. It’s ok. Turn around.”

He slowly turned around and saw she had her hand held out for his with a small grin on her face. “Let me see if I can show you. Give ne your hand.”

He hesitated but did as she asked. He put his hand in her palm face up and gently tapped her finger tips on his palm and slowly sped up the tapping. The sensation she caused him went straight to his cock. As she sped up, leaned on the sink and closed his eyes, every tap went to his cock and spread out like lightning.

She paused as she looked at his handand examined his index finger, “what’s that on your finger?”

Dean opened his eyes alarmed and looked.

She leaned down and smelled it, “Mmmm?” There was just a touch of the pink powder still on his finger from when he checked her carotid pulse. The urge to suck his finger became overwhelming and was so unexpected, she just reacted.

She engulfed his index finger in her mouth sucked it slowly up to the tip and rubbed her teeth against the tip of his sensitive finger releasing a quiet groan from his throat. Not realizing she had closed her eyes or even was holding his hand captive in both of hers, she opened them looking at his face as she repeated this again, sucking even harder.

Dean closed his eyes as the sensation over took him and moaned, “Oh my god, Y/N.”

She released his finger with an audible pop and a smirk on her lips, “Do you want me to stop?”

Dean opened his eyes and looked confused at Y/N, “No.” A moment later, “Wait” and pulled his hand,which took a few times before Y/N let him go, from her grasp. He sighs and crinkles his freckled nose, “You’re under a spell or some kind of magick. As much…” He takes a deep breath as he just lingers over her naked form, “As much as I would absolutely love to continue this, that would be taking advantage of you and I’m not that guy.” He slowly took a step back, concerned.

She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him, and then she turned around and picked up her pants digging in it. She took out her cell and dropped her pants, “Fine, I’ll call Sam. I’m sure he would.”

Dean yanked the cell out of her hand and threw it towards the bed, and came back blocking the door.

“Oooo, jealous?” Y/N asked and slowly walked towards him, slowly swaying her hips with each step. He but his lower lip as he watched her approach. He did not back up and she reached out her hand to his Henley. “So soft.” She licked her lips then pressed them together as if putting on lipstick. . “You always look good in these shirts. I bet the ladies love them.”

She watched his face as she spoke and now she stood barely an inch apart. She slowly wrapped her hands over his shoulders. “I know you want me, Dean Winchester. I’ve wanted you for quite some time myself,” she ran her nails down on to his chest causing a quick inhale from him. “But, well, you intimidated me, I didn’t think you’d ever go for someone like,” she said in a quiet voice, “little ol’ me. Fucked up, scarred, chubby hunter who is still new to the scene.” She paused a moment to run her fingertips up and down the side of his neck. She pressed herself into him watching his face with a grin.

“Not like you and your womanizer reputation. Hot, delicious Dean Winchester, amazing hunter and fighter, and amazing in bed with a masterful tongue and talented fingers. That’s what I’ve been told by several other female hunters.” She pushed at him slightly and turned away from him to sit on the closet toilet seat. She put her elbows on her knees, legs spread out which drew his eyes where she wanted them, her dripping wetness.

“I found you very intimidating. You got it all, Mr. Winchester. Ridiculously attractive. I’m sure you’re just delicious,” she licked her lower lip then bit driving a groan from him. “Family. Resourceful. Physically fit and surpassing stamina. You’re very funny. No matter what Sam says, you’re hilarious. And a complete pop culture geek which I adore.” her smile softened as she looked at him and her eyes changed in a manner he couldn’t recognize, “Yeah, you’re a self-medicating alcoholic who eats way too much junk and has a rage that escapes you from time to time in the right places it seems, but I would take that all just to have you be mine.”

She stood hesitating, shook her head a moment then added, “Since I’m being so honest, if something were to happen to you, Mr. Winchester, I don’t think I could take it.” She let him go and stepped into the shower and remained silent.

Dean stood there surprised at her confession with an arousal that was trying to break free of his jeans, and worried it was the spell talking and not her. He was worried he was also affected by the spell.

She stuck her head, soaking wet hair and water dripping down her face causing droplets to stay on her eyelashes with a cheeky grin on her lips, “You're welcome to join me.” She but her lower lip and went back into the shower.

Dean was unable to say no anymore and gave into the invite. Quickly stripping, he closed and locked the bathroom door. Sorry, Sammy, he thought to himself right before he joined her in the shower.

An hour after he left, Sam came back to the room on his phone, “Ok. Thanks, Rowena. Will call if she doesn’t change by tomorrow afternoon.” He hung up and realized the shower was running but no one was on the beds. He heard moaning from the bathroom and scoffed. Oh my god, Dean. No, Sam thought and walked right back out of the room. He texted Dean telling him he was getting them a room at the motel and to call him when they were done.

Comments and Feedback are welcome!

Graphics: @firefly-graphics

Want to send in an ask? See the prompt list.

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notmanagingmymischief · 2 years

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I posted 3,348 times in 2022

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#you think you've seen anger? think you've experienced revenge? you aint seen nothing until you've suffered at the hands of nico belladonna

My Top Posts in 2022:

My toxic trait is thinking any of my favorite characters would even want to date me in the first place tbh

71 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

❝𝐉𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐮𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫.❞

This is a (one day late) birthday gift to my beloved, wonderful, amazing girlfriend @winters-witch-bitch. I hope you enjoy it mon amour; I love you so so so much, and I can't wait to spend as many more birthdays with you as the universe will allow me to.

See the full post

91 notes - Posted May 7, 2022

ᴀʟᴍᴀ ᴘᴇʀᴇɢʀɪɴᴇ | ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ɪ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴡᴀʏ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ - ɪɪ

sorry about taking an actual century to update this bitch oh my gods 😭💀

oh and the bits between the '~' are in Alma's pov because....flustered bird woman. :D

finally, yes i changed the pov--people complained and peer pressured me into doing it /hj *cough* @merci-bitch *cough*

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

title source: "heaven knows" by the pretty reckless

warnings: slight angst, light swearing, arguing

word count: 7.7K

taglist: @teddybear-named-george, @consciouschunkofmoss, @winters-witch-bitch, @holly-fire, @mxbeezkneez, @fxoehy, @evagreensimp, @crime-ninja, @vintageolives, @darlingimlostwithout, @vykanya, @missfalcon, @peregrine21, @feartheclipse, @inlovewithbilliedean, @nonbinary-cryptid-baby, @another-fantasy-world, @evil-feather, @aaron-despair, @badussy69, @marvels-writings, @thebijesus, @ahoy-gays, @jojalie, @sythaerin, @vintageolives, @iamawriterorsomething, @emiliaisdead, @sapphic-stress, @whutisthus, @when-i-miss-you, @sarahp-stan, @lexi1109, @spilled-ink-like-spilled-wrists, @picnicmic

if you'd like to be added to the taglist, please fill out this form! (it helps me keep everything organized <;3)

enjoy xx

After the night that Horace's dream had caused issues with you and Alma, your relationship had been...rocky at best, and obstructive at worst. Alma never raised her voice, which was a relief, but she was especially sharp for at least a month. With everyone besides you, she was completely normal, but anytime you asked her anything she'd tense up and her response would be unnaturally professional and snappy. Each time it would annoy you and you'd usually end up snapping something back, which would either end in Alma glaring at you, walking away, or it would begin an argument. Again, she never yelled, and neither did you, but her tone was enough to be intimidating and you could stand your ground without being loud.

Now, over a month later, you lean against the inside of your door, fists clenched and knuckles white as you hold back tears. The door is locked but you know that Alma is still on the other side as she mumbles "Y/n please, I'm sorry." You scoff, replying "If you were sorry you wouldn't have said it, Miss Peregrine," purposefully using her title instead of her name, knowing it'll bite more than if you call her Alma. It works and you hear her hiss quietly. A faint shuffling can be heard from the other side of the door before another sigh and a quiet "I'm not leaving until you let me in." Rolling your eyes you silently mock her words to yourself, grumbling under your breath. "Don't you have a house to run?" Alma doesn't miss a beat before replying "Everyone is outside, and the sooner you let me in, the faster we can get this over with." You consider her words, knowing she's right but also not wanting to give in, forever stubborn. Your mind returns to your latest argument, the one that had caused this whole problem, and another few tears burn in your eyes.

The day was going decently, you'd helped Emma with her squirrel and watched Enoch mess about with his dolls, before returning upstairs and going to the kitchen to try finding something to nibble on. You remembered seeing some apples in the fridge, so you padded over to it and began searching for them. A minute later you caught sight of one and with a noise of victory, snatched it and gently closed the fridge door, standing up with your prize in hand. But you jumped back with a gasp when Alma appeared out of nowhere, leaning against the counter behind the open door. She glanced over at you indifferently, but didn't say anything even as you stared at her for a moment longer. You honestly expected her to make some snippy remark, but she did no such thing, and eventually you hummed and also leaned on the counter across from her, not making eye contact even as you felt the woman watching me.

Finally she spoke; "And what might you be doing?" You let out a heavy breath, chewing the piece of apple that was in your mouth and swallowing before responding. "Oh you know. This and that. Nothing you'd care about, anyway," you said, staring intently at the pattern of the floor. You heard Alma huff indignantly and snap "Why are you always so...sassy with me lately?" This time you did raise my head, leveling her with a disbelieving glare. "Me? I'm the one with an attitude? You're the one who's constantly starting arguments over literally anything!" Alma's eyes hardened significantly and you saw her fingers tighten around the unlit pipe she held, muttering "I do not start arguments. You turn conversations into arguments." "Oh please!" you scoffed, setting your apple down and taking a few steps closer to the ymbryne. "I can't say anything without you biting my head off, Alma." At your advancing, Alma did the same, discarding her pipe and standing straight, using her height to her advantage.

But it didn't deter you, and you held yourself high and confident as you stared each other down. Before, you wouldn't have dared to speak like this to the ravenette, but by this point you were sick of her attitude. "You've really lost it now, haven't you?" Alma hissed and you smiled wickedly, replying "If I've lost my mind, then you're out of yours," eyes sparking. You heard the woman pull in a sharp breath and she stalked towards you, but you refused to let her get too close and began backing up, trying to keep some distance between the two of you. But Alma didn't stop until you were backed up into the counter, and even as your resolve stayed strong, the proximity still made your heart skip a beat. It was the closest she'd been to you in weeks and you were almost unused to it. Before you could think about it too hard though, Alma snapped "If I hadn't taken you in you'd still be starving and most likely dead by now." You took a deep breath, swallowing dryly and hissing "And I'm sure you regret it every day."

You said this, yet didn't expect Alma to reply "Maybe I do." Your face fell, lips parting in shock and eyes going glassy. Your brows pulled together tightly, staring up at Alma in betrayal, hurt beyond words. She realized what she'd said a moment too late and pulled away, already apologizing frantically, but you weren't having it--and without anything more than a "fuck you," you stormed out of the kitchen and up to your room, locking yourself in and sliding down to the floor in tears.

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen," you finally say once the memory clears, and Alma growls under her breath, spitting "Dammit y/n, I'm sorry! I've never regretted helping you, I was just upset and not thinking straight!" The laugh that bubbles up in your throat is derisive and sharp, and you shake your head, mumbling "Clearly." Neither of you say anything else for another long moment, but your resolve slowly begins to crack and eventually you whisper "If I let you in, will you leave me alone?" Quickly Alma says "Yes, I just need you to know that I mean it." You heave a great sigh, filling your lungs to capacity before letting it out in a pained exhale, and stand up, hesitating just a moment before finally undoing the lock. You leave it up to Alma to open the door, which she does as soon as she hears the click, and the instant it's open she's pulled you to her body and holds you tightly. You choke on air, at first trying to pull back, but she's stronger than she looks and eventually you give up, relaxing in her arms and loosely returning the embrace.

You breathe in her perfume and it calms you down, so when she murmurs "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” you believe her. You nod slowly, tightening your hold just a bit, which seems to relax Alma as the tenseness of her shoulders fades. With one last squeeze, the woman finally lets you go, but doesn't step back as she brings both hands to your face. The genuine emotion in her eyes make tears threaten to fall, but you blink them away and nod again, mumbling "Okay. Okay, I believe you. But can we just..." You taper off, unsure what to say next. Alma encourages you quietly, and you finish with "Can we go back to how it was before? I don't--I don't want to keep fighting, Alms." The nickname, though not official as it's only the second time you've used it, softens Alma's gaze even further and she presses her forehead against yours, breathing "Of course. Of course we can, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to get out of hand, I was just overwhelmed."

Understanding, you hum in agreement. You stand there for a moment longer, one of your hands coming to rest on hers, which she removes from your cheek and instead threads your fingers together, holding your hand tightly. But eventually you have to separate when you murmur "I think it's almost time to eat. I'll help you." Alma sighs and the little breath blows against your lips, before she nods and pulls back with one last peck to your forehead. She doesn't let go of your hand, instead using it to gently pull you along with her down the steps and into the kitchen. She finally has to let it go in order to start working, but the little smile she throws over her shoulder makes up for the loss of warmth. You return it, though she's already turned her back, and silently begin helping. The air between you is no longer charged as it has been for the last month, instead it's returned to the warm familiarity that it had once been. You move fluidly around the kitchen, mumbling quiet words to each other every so often, and you manage to make some sort of inappropriate joke that makes Alma blush and laugh loudly, having to support herself on the counter.

You beam at the woman, laughing quietly along with her, but more just enjoying seeing her laugh again after so long without it. When Alma finally calms down, brushing a nail over her cheek as she still chuckles through her words, saying "That--That was brilliant. But I don't want you saying something like around to the others." You press your hand against your chest, dramatically exclaiming "I would never! What do you think I am, a heathen?!" Alma gives you what could be a scolding look if she wasn't still biting back another smile. You finally let a grin of your own break out, dropping your hand and turning around with a shake of your head to continue cutting up these vegetables for supper. You hear Alma shuffling about behind you but ignore it as you make sure not to slice yourself. You've been known to be clumsy when faced with sharp objects, so cutting yourself is a very real threat. "Did I ever tell you about that time when I just about killed myself?" You glance over your shoulder, the shock value of the statement making Alma's head snap to face you.

But you just smile teasingly and say "I was trying to help my mom with lunch and the knife slipped and caught my wrist. I ended up needing stitches but it just barely avoided hitting that big vein." Absently, Alma sighs and mumbles "The radial artery, yes." You nod, continuing your cutting while you state "But yeah, I was fine in the end." Alma hums quietly, and it's more tense than before, so you pause your repetitive slicing to set the knife down, coming over to stand at her side and leaning into her a bit, murmuring "I'm more careful now Alms. Don't go all quiet on me." The woman sighs heavily and casually tilts her head to the side so it can rest atop yours and replies "I'm sorry. I just...you had me worried for a moment." You shrug, understanding her worry. "Yeah, I guess I could've worded it a bit better. I just wanted to see your reaction honestly." The truth makes Alma grumble under her breath, miffed at the casual manner in which you speak, but her head doesn't move and she doesn't scold you.

Still, after a few minutes you pull back with a little nuzzle into the woman's shoulder that makes her let out a little huff of laughter, and return to the opposite side of the kitchen. The rest of the meal gets finished soon and without anymore bumps, until everything is on the table and Alma lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing her hands together anxiously. She checks her watch, as she's been doing incessantly for the past two hours, and you watch her stare at it with a tense expression before slipping it back into her pocket with a soft hum. You raise a questioning brow when she looks back at you, but she just brushes it off with a smile and softly asks you to get the others inside. You nod, brush your hand against hers as you pass her to head outside. Rounding up the kids doesn't take much effort, and they all run inside to get ready for dinner, changing if they're dirty or fixing their hair, etcetera. You do the same, changing into a nicer dress that's tight against your waist and chest, but loosens around your legs.

You smile to yourself as you make sure your hair is neat in the mirror, before skipping downstairs and entering the dining room, where Alma stands against the wall waiting for the rest to appear. She smiles over at you, and her eyes drop down to check out your outfit, smile softening into a teasing smirk as she mutters "That's a bit short, don't you think?" You notice the playful tone of her voice and a matching smile lifts to your own lips as you walk slowly towards the woman, replying "Only if you want it to be." Her eyes return to yours, amused. "And trust me, I have shorter. Maybe I'll wear one of them someday--although you might like that too much," you purr, winking with a grin at the shocked, then flustered expression that settles onto her face as the statement's double meaning registers in Alma's mind. As soon as it does she goes to say something, but you quickly cut her off with "It's almost time to eat, isn't it?" The woman lets out an annoyed noise, but checks her watch and, once finding out that you're correct, approaches the table and rings the bell that sits atop it's dark surface beside her seat.

See the full post

110 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

Y/N: *slams fist into their wall in frustration*

Alma: Y/n! Don’t do that!

Y/N: >:(

Alma: How would you feel if I slammed you against the wall?

Y/N:

Y/N: I’m...I’m not sure you always understand the consequences of your actions or words.

129 notes - Posted July 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

thinking about her again <3

See the full post

159 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #the fact that my number 1 post is me being gay for Diana says a lot about me

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dukereviewstv · 4 years

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Duke Reviews TV: Batman: The Animated Series 1x10 And 1x11 Two-Face

Hello, I'm Andrew Leduc And Welcome To Duke Reviews TV, Where We Continue Our Look At Batman: The Animated Series By Talking About Episodes 10 And 11 Of Season 1, Two-Face...

This Episode Sees Harvey Dent Starting To Transform Into The Duality Obsessed Two-Face When He Expresses Anger Issues That Are Being Caused By Another Personality In Harvey's Subconscious Called "Big Bad Harv"...

Big Bad Harv...

Going To Get Psychiatric Help At Bruce's Behest, His Psych File Ends Up In The Hands Of Mobster Rupert Thorne (Played By Officer Mooney From Killer Klowns From Outer Space) Who Decides To Blackmail Him In Exchange For Favors In D.A'S Office...

Will Batman Be Able To Save Harvey From Thorne? Or Will Big Bad Harv Take Over Completely And Handle The Problem For The Bat?

Let's Find Out As We Watch Two-Face...

The Episode Starts With A Dream Sequence As Harvey Runs From A Disembodied Voice Saying "It's Time"...

Woken Up By His Secretary, Carlos, Who Tells Him That Gordon Called Saying That They Started A Raid On A Derelict Building Being Held By Rupert Thorne's Men...

With Batman's Help, The Men Are Captured As Harvey Congratulates Gordon And The Police But When One Of The Crooks Kicks Mud In Harvey's Face, Dent Goes Beserk On The Crook And Has To Be Pulled Off Him

Reverting Back To His Regular Self After That, Dent Has No Memory Of What Happened And Just Simply Says That Maybe The Criminal Hit The Right Button...

Back At His Headquarters, Rupert Thorne Tells His Hot Mole, Candice...

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To Find Something Dirty About Dent's Past That Could Be Used In His Favor

Later At A Campaign Rally At Wayne Manor, Carlos Tells Harvey That The Judge Let Thorne's Men Go Because The Warrant Was "Incomplete" This Leads To Harvey Losing His Temper Again Because He Believes That The Judge Was Bought Off Like Everyone In Thorne's Employ...

Bruce Tries To Calm Harvey Down But All It Does Is Make Harvey Take His Anger Out On Him, It's Only When Harvey's Fiancee Grace Slaps Him...

With Bruce Advising Harvey To Get Psychiatric Help, Grace Tells Him That Harvey Already Is, Only For Harvey To Be Embarrassed, Despite Being Reluctant To Due To His Campaign...

Visiting His Doctor That Night, She Induces Hypno Therapy On Harvey, Where She Meets Harvey's Other Personality, Big Bad Harv...

And This Scene Frightens Me Every Time I See It....

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(Start At 0:37, End At 2:26)

Asking If There's Any Other Way, The Doctor Suggests Increasing Their Sessions And Doing Less Campaigning Which Harvey Agrees To Do As Long As It's Kept Quiet, But Unfortunately, Thorne's Mole Candice Is Right Outside The Door And She Heard Everything...

Months Pass And Harvey Is About To Recieve A Landslide Victory In His Re-Election But When He Gets A Phone Call From Rupert Thorne Who Tells Harvey That He Knows About Big Bad Harv, And That If He Doesn't Get Into A Car Outside In The Alley, His Political Career Wont Be Intact For Much Longer...

Worried About His Friend, Bruce Suits Up And Follows Harvey To Thorne At A Chemical Plant Where He Tells Harvey That In Exchange For Keeping Quiet About Harvey's Psych Record, He'll Want A Few Favors From The D.A'S Office...

With Thorne Asking If They Have A Deal, Harvey Has A Psychotic Break And Attacks Thorne And His Men...

Harvey Smash!

Batman Tries To Stop Harvey Not Realizing That It's Not Harvey He's Dealing With But Big Bad Harv...

With Thorne's Men Fighting Both Harvey And Batman, Thorne Eventually Grabs The File And Bolts With Harvey Going After Him...

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(Start At 2:26, End At 3:12)

I Usually Love Kevin Conroy But I Don't Like That No He Did There (Despite Knowing That Alot Of People Do) I'm Sorry But I Just Wish It Was Louder So I Could Feel His Anguish To The Situation Where Here I Just Don't Feel It...

Taking Harvey To The Hospital, Bruce Worries About The Mental Scars Than The Physical Scars While Candice Rejoices At Getting Rid Of Dent Despite Thorne Not Being So Convinced Harvey Is Gone..

Later At The Hospital, The Doctor Starts Removing The Bandages...

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(Start At 1:29)

So, Yeah, That Ends Part 1, So, Now We Move On To Part 2...

A Few Months Have Passed And Harvey Is Now Full Two Face, Hitting Rupert Thorne's Joints, Humiliating Him Just As He Humiliated Harvey With The Help Of His Boys, Min And Max (Voiced By Micky Dolenz Of The Monkees)...

And He's Not Using James Cagney Impression Voice For The 2 Henchmen?...

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(Start At 0:04, End At 0:10)

I Am So Over This Show!

I'm Kidding Of Course, That Would Make It Cartoony And God Knows We Can't Do That For 2 Seconds With This Show...

Infuriated That Harvey Took Him For $200,000, Candice Is Basically Like...

Because They Created Him While Rupert Places Out A Contract A Million A Face For Two Face...

Back In The Batcave, Bruce Has A Nightmare About Harvey...

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(End At 1:09)

Finding A Picture Of Two Face, Bruce Vows To Save Harvey By Any Means Necessary...

Getting A Visit From A Detective Leopold Who Wants Her Help In Finding Harvey, Grace Is Given A Transmitter Which She's To Activate If Dent Contacts Her...

However It's Revealed To Us, That Leopold Is Really Candice In Disguise...

Going Over His Profits, Two Face Opens His Wallet Only To See A Picture Of Grace Which Causes Him To Freeze For A Second...

Min And Max Offer To Bring Grace To Him If He Misses Her So Much, But When He Gets His Coin Out And Flips It, It's Lands On The Bad Side So It'll Have To Wait While They Pull Off Their Big Plan Of Taking Down Thorne Once And For All..

Back In The Batcave, Batman Looks At Two Face's Previous Targets Realizes That Aside From The Fact That They All Have The Number 2 In Them, They're All Fronts For Thorne's Activities, This Leads Batman To Realize Where Harvey Is Headed Next...

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(Start At 1:26)

Batman Is Woken Up By A Janitor Who Tells Him That Two Face Is Gone...

Driving By A Wedding Shop Where He Imagines Grace As The Bride On A Cake. Asking His Boys To Stop So He Can Flip His Coin...

And It Must Have Landed On Good Heads Because He Calls Grace And Says That He Wants To See Her...

Having Min And Max Outside Of The Apartment Waiting For Her, Grace Hangs Up Before Activating The Transmitter Giving Candice The Signal As Thorne Rages About The File Harvey Stole...

Arriving At The Abandoned Wild Deuce Club, Grace Sees Two Face Who Has A Cloth Over His Scared Side (Kind Of A la Phantom Of The Opera)...

As He Tells Her How He Is Now With Chance And She's Basically Unable To Accept It As It Wasn't Chance That Made Him D.A. Or Made Him Fall In Love With Her As He Removes The Cloth Telling Him That He Never Has To Be Afraid Of Her...

But It All Goes Down The Crapper When Thorne's Men Knock Out Min And Max And Thorne Enters With Candice, Who Tells Two Face What Grace Did Despite Thorne Saying That She Thought She Was Warning The Police...

Despite Thorne's Men Searching All Over, They Can't Find Thorne's File Which Forces Thorne To Go After Grace..,

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(Start At 0:43, End At 3:32)

Alot Of People Have Said That Joel Schumacher Took The Last Couple Of Minutes Of This Part And Turned It Into This Part In Batman Forever...

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(Start At 0:44, End At 0:59)

But Like The Part With Scarecrow In Nothing To Fear I See It As A Meer Coincidence...

With The Police Arresting Thorne And His Gang Along With Two Face Who Has Grace By His Side. Gordon Wonders If There's Hope For Harvey And Batman Replies Simply Where There's Love, There's Hope, Before He Tosses A Coin Into A Fountain For Harvey Ending Our Episode...

Now Before I Give My Opinion On The Episodes, I'd Like To Talk About Those Last Words Of The Episode...

"Where There's Love, There's Hope"

Those Lines Are Slightly Melancholy For Me...

Why?

Because After This Episode We Never See Grace With Harvey Again....

After This Episode And A Brief Cameo In Fear Of Victory, The Next Time We See Two Face Is In The Strange Secret Of Bruce Wayne Where He's Full On Two Face And Bidding On Bruce's Secret Alongside The Joker And The Penguin..

So, The Question Is What Happened To Grace? Did She Fall Off The Edge Of The DCAU Continuity?

Hi, Duke Here, The Following Was Going To Be A Long Winded Rant On Grace And What I Thought The Writers And Creators Did To Her, But After I Wrote That Rant, I Looked On DCAU Wiki And Discovered That They Moved Grace's Story With Harvey To The Comics...

Namely The Batman And Robin Adventures Comic, Where In Issues #1 And #2..

She Falls Victim To A Nefarious Plot By The Joker, Who Enrages Harvey By Suggesting That Grace And Bruce Wayne Are A Couple, This Leads Two Face To Kidnap Grace, Bruce And Dick, Threatening To Kill Them All...

But Realizing That He Has Succumbed To His Bad Side, Grace Stabs Two Face In The Face With His Coin Implicating That Their Relationship Is Over...

However, In Issue 22 Of Batman And Robin Adventures...

Two Face's Life Is Thrown Into Chaos When He Loses His Trademark Coin During A Breakout And Has Replaced It With A Quarter. Little Jonni Infantino, A Gangster Who Caused The Breakout..

And An Obvious Nod To Carmine Infantino, Comic Book Artist And Former Editor Of DC Comics...

Threatens To Kill Grace If Two Face Doesn't Provide Him Information On One Of Rupert Thorne's Thugs, Weird Tony Hendra, Who Was One Of Harvey's Last Cases As D.A....

Running To A Payphone, Two Face Calls Grace, Warning Her To Get Out Of Her Apartment Before Jonni Can Get To Her. Calling Bruce Afterwards To Tell Him That Harvey Saved Her Life, He Tells Her That He Will Send Alfred To Pick Her Up And Bring Her To The Mansion...

After That, That's The Last We See Of Grace, But It's Hinted That She Still Deeply Loves Harvey...

These Stories Are Good, But I Wish That #1 And #2 Were Portrayed On The Animated Series...

Mainly Because I Know There Are People Like Me Who Don't Go Out To Comic Book Stores And Get The Comics, So, In Turn People Like Me Are Confused About Where Characters Like Grace Are...

Not That There Are Anymore Characters That Leave The Show And Have Me Asking Where They Are, Like I Did With Grace But Still...

If Paul Dini Or Bruce Timm Are Looking At This I'd Like To Know Why They Went This Route With Grace And Didn't Explain Where She Was On The Animated Series For The People Who Didn't Read The Comic?

I Mean They Explained What Happened To Nora Fries After Sub Zero The Least They Can Do Is Explain What Happened To Grace After Two Face...

Anyway We Now Return You To Your Review Already In Progress....

God!

But Aside From My Problems With That These Two Episodes Are Very Good...

The Story And Characters Were Well Written And Their Take On The Character Of Two Face Is Brilliantly Written, Definite Props To Richard Moll For Amazingly Voicing Two Face In This And Many Episodes Of BTAS, All In All I Say See Them Both...

Till Next Time, This Is Duke, Signing Off...

#batman the animated series #BTAS #Kevin Conroy #Bob Hastings #efrem zimbalist jr.#richard moll #Mari Devon #John Vernon #micky dolenz #dc animated universe #DCAU

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onecrazysquirrel · 2 years

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Great morning in Christ to you all on this beautiful Sunday morning after Christmas day. I pray that you all had a wonderful Christmas and that the spirit of Christ is within your hearts and minds guiding you through your sleeping and waking hours. It is 5:06 AM here in Dayton Ohio 45° a real feel of 47° high of 51° and a low of 44° expected rain later today with dropping temperatures so bundle up as the day progresses. Praying for our street people y'all find somewhere dry to spend the evening and the night, God be with you all.

Momma and baby are undoubtedly still sleeping this early on the AM undoubtedly dreaming of the wonderful Christmas morning they just had, thank you once again to all of you who've helped we can't thank you enough. From what I was told it was a magical Christmas for the little one and Momma got some unexpected gifts too so great success. We have yet to replace her phone ( waiting on transaction processing ) but I was able to tell her that we were going to hopefully Monday, she was thrilled. I didn't tell her about the SUV yet because I need those funds on hand before taking it to the shop, so once they've processed we will be putting the truck in for repairs; I didn't want to put too much on her plate at once the poor girl is already nearly on excitement overload, thank you Jesus. Getting the brakes fixed well be a huge deal however and much safer for our little family than it has been so thank you so very much God bless you all.

Momma and I haven't spoken much of the other repairs needed on the rig but they're still there, it has an oil leak and needs a catalytic converter but the brakes are the main issue; oh and her short term tags expired, so God willing we will be able to get those updated asap.

Still working on appliances, haven't been able to do much with the weekend and the holiday because this site doesn't process at those times; that's why I'm hoping for Monday although it does say on the site two to five business days for processing so it could be closer to the middle or end of the week before the transactions go through, I'm praying for tomorrow however. Our little family doesn't seem too bothered by the lack of appliances yet although Momma does mention a toaster oven every once in a while, she doesn't seem to be very upset by not having it; we are still looking for basic things like pots and pans, they were able to find some plates and bowls at the thrift store Friday and adequate silverware which I forgot to mention yesterday. We just need to get them some cookware now. She says she doesn't care about a coffee maker, but something about the way that she says it tells me she'd like to have one; as much as she drinks coffee I believe that she should, besides it would be nice for her to have if she decides to entertain company. And a microwave to prepare the child's breakfast or heat up a drink on the run would be good for them to have as well, she says she used to use her microwave frequently so we know that would be a sound investment. These things will come through in time and I was given another agency to check with that I will be contacting tomorrow who might be able to help with at least some of the household goods.

Either way we're not worried so much any longer, God is at work and we watch as he performs miracles daily; we love you all and can't express our appreciation enough for your prayers and love and support. Thank you for your love through Christ and may the Lord be with you on all that you do.

If you would like to contribute and bypass the fees and processing time that it takes using this site please use one of the following methods. Try it using my code and you’ll get $5. CCRMRMW

https://cash.app/app/CCRMRMW

Earn $10 for signing up after you make a bank- or card-funded payment of at least $5 within 14 days.

Download the app using my referral link: https://get.venmo.com/k3Z8MOTT8lb

Note: "Family" so that we know where to allocate the funds.

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thefalse9 · 3 years

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Euro 2020 Team Previews: Group D

England:

In their first Euros outing in 1968, England finished third, of four teams. They’re still waiting to improve on that. Only Belgium and the old Yugoslavia could claim to have performed better at European Championships without winning one. England have been international football’s big underachievers since 1966, from home-soil heroes to the failed Golden Generation. The Three Lions have won one knockout game in the history of this competition. On penalties. As hosts. I'm not even kidding, look it up. Five years ago, they crashed out to Iceland; as the song goes, we’d seen it all before. What followed, though, was new: it led to a scorched earth rejuvenation of English football, led by some of the greatest minds in the game. Pep Guardiola, Jurgen Klopp and Marcelo Bielsa all arrived, followed by a cast of club legends making early forays into management. Together, they’ve helped to reshape the country’s tactical make-up into something more modern. An Icelandic volcano turned English football to ash, but from the rubble, something new and exciting has risen from it. There’s hope for the class of 2021. The Three Lions’ current pride isn’t an empty collection of big names – there are still titans of elite European sides, but vitally, there’s a balance that seems to have evaded the national team for 55 years. England finally have defensive midfielders and left-footers. A good grouping of the current XI are captains of their clubs. Importantly, the country’s youth-level champions of recent years are coming of age, giving Gareth Southgate genuine selection migraines. For many, England’s talent reserves are the envy of Europe as many sitting on the bench would have started for other nations competing in Euro 2020. Since 2018, the pragmatism of Southgate’s World Cup semi-finalists has come to the fore: they are prepared to win ugly, even if a squad packed with attacking prowess suggests otherwise. If we're being honest, the 12-month postponement of Euro 2020 may have even worked in England’s favor, too, as so many young Lions have received a year’s extra education before the big tournament. Mason Mount and Phil Foden have developed into legitimate superstars, Reece James looks like one of the best fullbacks in football and this new "Golden Generation" may actually be better than the last. Could the stars align? We haven’t seen a crop quite like this for some time, and while England doesn’t quite expect to win it all, there’s plenty of serious promise.

Euro 2020 may be a bridge too far for Southgate’s squad, but their journey over the last five years shows they’re on the right track. If they can shake off the nation’s tag as perennial underachievers in football, then maybe, just maybe, this fucking thing is "coming home".

Croatia:

In the past three years, Croatia seen a generational shift occur within their national team – never an easy task for a country with so small a talent pool. The situation was hardly helped by Ivan Rakitic’s sudden international retirement last September; the midfielder following forward Mario Mandzukic and goalkeeper Danijel Subasic in saying goodbye to the national team in the aftermath of the sepia-tinged summer of 2018. Yet, still led by Luka Modric’s effortless brilliance, the perennial dark horses remain a strong outfit, albeit a little green around the edges. Some squad members have already shown great maturity in stepping up, particularly 26-year old Dinamo Zagreb keeper Dominik Livakovic, whom has between fantastic between the sticks, and 23-year-old former Everton midfielder Nikola Vlasic. Dinamo’s Mislav Orsic is still floating on air after his stunning hat-trick knocked Tottenham out of the Europa League. Most encouragingly? Manager Zlatko Dalic can also rely upon one player the wider European public has yet to meet: striker Bruno Petkovic. Similar to Olivier Giroud in many ways, the hulking Dinamo centre-forward offers Croatia an important tactical variant as a hulking in-the-box presence amidst a sea of pint-sized technicians. Yet more vital is that Modric, the quintessential captain, who is still playing at the highest level after yet another fine Real Madrid season, isn’t tired of wearing the famed checkered shirt. They'll go as far as his mastery, wizardy, incredible ability and undying passion for his national team will take them. This team is green, but by no means does that mean they're incapable of making a semi-finals appearance. Croatia’s group is extremely demanding because it contains two hosts (England and Scotland) and the reawakened Czech Republic, whose players increasingly recall previous generations. That being said, reaching the knockout stages should not be an issue. The fact that reaching the knockout stage is now the minimum expectation from the Croatian public is proof of just how far this team has come. The big names may lack their forebears’ name recognition, but the talent remains for them to go far.

Scotland:

Don’t let anyone tell you that international football is irrelevant and that representing your country doesn't matter anymore in the age of mega-contracts, "Super Leagues", "Champions Leagues" and endorsement deals. If they persist, point them in the direction of Ryan Christie’s post-match interview with Sky Sports on the night that Scotland finally ended their agonizing 23-year wait to appear at a major international tournament. For about two minutes, the Celtic star did his best to juggle obvious exhaustion, joy and sheer relief while the tears flowed down in his face in an abject display of patriotism that would make even the biggest skeptic struggle to watch without wondering who was cutting onions or who opened the window and let all this pollen into the room. This had been a long time coming. The night of their play-off in Serbia was about as ‘Scotland’ as it gets. Even though Steve Clarke’s side put in a confident, and composed performance against visibly shaken opposition; given the lead through a Christie goal that looked to be enough for victory, Serbian star and all-together disappointment Luka Jovic delivered a sucker-punch equalizer in stoppage time. Long-suffering Scotland supporters at home feared the worst. And, as it were, the Serbians pushed Scotland to the brink in extra time. But Scotland stood firm, then David Marshall secured legendary status among the Tartan Army with a superb save from Aleksandar Mitrovic's effort to settle the penalty shootout at 5-4. Back in Scotland, there was utter pandemonium. Football can’t do much to make up for a year of loss and sacrifice, but it has at least reaffirmed its status as the most important of the least important things. For one night, Christie & company gave their country the gift of a priceless distraction in a year when we needed it most. Scotland’s hard-fought win in Belgrade lengthened their unbeaten stretch under Clarke to nine games – their best run in 44 years. It hasn't been easy, however. Clarke and his management team have had to tweak their system along the way and injuries have forced some previously unheralded players to earn caps. Others have been forced out for resting on their old laurels (sorry Leigh Griffiths), while others have been handed opportunities based on merit and ability (hello, Lyndon Sykes). For all that qualification represented to Clarke, though, he’s too proud for his side to just make up the numbers this summer. They probably won't make it to the next round. They were handed a rough draw this time around and the Czech Republic is a tough out. That said, Scotland is going to fight until they can't anymore. It's what they know.

Czech Republic:

Back in England for another major tournament a quarter of a century after their incredible run to the Euro 96 Final, the Czechs travel to the UK with a buoyant mood and a settled squad. They’re unencumbered by expectation, and bring a team of promising young players and hungry internationals from Europe’s top five leagues, so another underdog showing is the hope for the nation's fans and for manager Jaroslav Silhavy.

Tomas Soucek – he of the granite forehead, man-mountain shoulders and elbows that can be thrown like boulders – and full-back Vladimir Coufal already delivered solid performances for Slavia Prague, but not even the most ardent Czech fan would have expected the level both have reached in West Ham’s excellent 2020-21 Premier League campaign, thus leading both players to capture the imagination and incite the excitement of a country who is beginning to believe this team may have what it takes Meanwhile, the Czechs’ best forward, Patrik Schick – on loan at RB Leipzig last year – has finally sorted out his future by leaving Roma for Bayer Leverkusen. The 25-year-old looks settled at his new club, and by mid-April he had scored 13 goals in 29 appearances for the German outfit. He'll be expected to lead the line, and from all appearances, looks prepared to do so, finally living up to the potential and expectations bestowed upon him at a young age. That being said, no Czech side has ever been about individuals, not even in Pavel Nedved’s era: even in a loaded team, with Karel Poborsky and Vladimir Smicer, the Czechs were more than a one-man show and played united, hard-nosed football, stoked more in pragmatism and a cohesive identity than individual moments of brilliance. Team spirit, tactical preparation, defensive organization and a well-balanced squad tend to trump all when it comes to the Czech squad. Boosted psychologically by their promotion to Nations League A, Silhavy’s troops also know what to expect in this group: they’d already beaten England in qualifying when they pipped Scotland to top spot in their Nations League division. Their football is unlikely to be beautiful, but they will be tough to beat, and with their would-be stars in top-form coming into the tournament, do not be surprised to see the Czech Republic make the knockouts as one of the best Third-Place teams.

#euro 2020 #uefa #england national team #three lions #scotland #tartan army #croatia #croatian national team #scotland national team #czech republic #czech national team

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kaylusdraven · 6 years

Text

A response from the President of the Board of Directors of Deeply Rooted. Brandi Pearson 6:24 PM (1 hour ago) to me Greetings Sue, I am glad to see that you are still alive and willing to make yourself heard and seen, though I regret to add that you are mistaken as to when your banishment will be lifted. Perhaps in your haste to send us your suggestion the details have slipped your mind. Thankfully, I have gotten a little better at copy and pasting in the last three months so here you go: Ms. SueEllen Lamb, This is in regards to decisions made by the Deeply Rooted Board of Directors during an emergency held on September 29, 2017. Whereas you, Sue Lamb, knowingly worked against the interests of Deeply Rooted in defense of Tonya Millette and Kirk Anderson Whereas you, Sue Lamb, failed to warn the Deeply Rooted Board of Tonya’s plan to hijack the Deeply Rooted Facebook groups Whereas, you Sue Lamb, took explicit advantage of the hijacked Deeply Rooted Members page to post your own commentary on the then-revealed contents of the Deeply Rooted Board Members page The Deeply Rooted Board of Directors voted unanimously on these decisions You, Sue Lamb, are to be banned from Deeply Rooted lands and Deeply Rooted events until Beltaine 2018, effective immediately You, Sue Lamb, will not be considered a member of good standing for a period of three years effective immediately, which also prohibits you from serving on committee, as Clergy, or as a member of the Deeply Rooted Board. Since I sent you this the first time ( which was October 6, 2017) and I had confirmation that you received this and copied it to your facebook wall (October 6, 2017) your decision to continue to use the public Facebook page to sell the idea that you were coming to Samhain despite being banned could be seen as abusive and bullying behavior; hence, we had you blocked from the public page. Since then, you have registered for Yule, Games Guns and Crafts weekend, and Imbolc. Not only did you try to register you have also done your best to work around the restrictions that were set up for you. This kind of behavior can be seen as not only intimidation but as an illegal maneuver, all of this has been tracked and documented with not only my knowledge but also at my behest. As for there being no communication from the board of directors as to your participation online, you had asked that you have no further contact from any member of the organization. We have all been more than respectful of that request and will be more than happy to continue to do so. If you could point me in the direction of which post you would consider libelous, I would very much appreciate the chance to take a look at it and see what, if anything, should be done. Please consider this as confirmation that your continued use of online participation is considered inappropriate at this point in time and for clarification your banning is to continue until Beltane 2018, we have our Beltane weekend currently slated for May 4-6, 2018. Many blessings to you, Brandi Pearson President Deeply Rooted Board of Directors On Tue, Jan 16, 2018 at 12:12 PM, SueEllen Lamb <[email protected]> wrote: Good Day Board Members, As my ban has been over for a week or so, I see that I am still blocked from participating online in the community and that Mary under the banner of Deeply Rooted has a libellous post regarding me. That post has been on the public church page. Please remove the post that paint me as someone who has harassed and abuse community members. That is false, and a crime. It should be remove along with a public apology on the site. I understand that the board acted with thier emotions in my banning and not reason or facts and that by pointing this out, I may still receive negative outcome from your community. However as the person I am I will give you the benefit of the doubt that the Board understands thier mistakes made regarding the actions taken toward myself. I will wait a reasonable time for this mistake to be rectified. If after a reasonable time, that being no more than two months, if the libel is still there without a correction and the ability to interaction with the online community not fixed, I will persue other avenues to have the libel addressed As far as the continued harassment by Mary Frampton towards me I understand as an organization you have no interest in that. I am bringing it to your attention because the only interaction I have with her is through your organization. As it is her right to block people on her own pages it is not her right to do so for your organization's pages. As there is and was no board decision to prevent me from participating online, nor was it communicated in the letter of banning, that illustrates the continued harassment from Mary that I have received over the last year. I am asking that you take a look into this issue so it can be resolve. Sincerely SueEllen Lamb SueEllen Lamb <[email protected]> 7:22 PM (14 minutes ago) to board, Brandi Hi, No I am not mistaken, I have attended a local event titled Beltaine 2018. Read the letter again it does not give a specific date nor does is say deeply rooted Beltaine event, just Beltaine 2018 which I have attended. So again my ban is over. Unless it is in the Board's intent to not follow the letter of thier ban. I see nothing mentioned regarding the libel posted by Mary on the organization's website I hope that will be resolved. Thank you, SueEllen Lamb. SueEllen Lamb <[email protected]> 7:37 PM (0 minutes ago) to Brandi Hello, It seems as though my email has been broken up and did not at first receive all of your message on my mobile. As for asking about no contact from dr I did not not ask for no ability to stay current should I reconsider that state of the community and decide to return. At no such point does that exclude my participation in the online community. Especially since it was not a mandated board desicion for that. As for the post it is pasted below. Posting on events online events was not part of my ban and therefore allowed. It is in black and the restrictions set forth for me. I was ban from event of which I did not attend and ban from the grounds of which I have not set foot on. The ban was for Beltaine 2018, not tied to a date or to a specific organizations event. As it stands I have followed the letter of the ban as recieved from the Board. Deeply Rooted Church September 27, 2017 · As many of you are aware, Tonya Millette has hijacked many of Deeply Rooted's groups, and we are in the process of recovery. We've created new groups that are now the official Deeply Rooted groups, that are linked directly to this page (this page was not compromised). Below are links to the official Deeply Rooted group. Feel free to remove yourself from the old Deeply Rooted group, especially if you are currently not out of the broom closet, for Tonya's actions have exposed all members on that board to public display. http://ift.tt/2DOeNY1 As for the issues that this situation has arisen from, there has been a struggle within the DR leadership for many months now revolving around abusive, harassing and bullying behavior displayed by Tonya Milette, Kirk Anderson, and Sue Lamb. Many attempts have been made both by leadership and members to reason with these individuals, yet they refused to cease their destructive behavior. This situation came to a head at our Mabon Board Meeting. For those that would like to hear the Mabon Board meeting for themselves, you can find a recording at https://www.dropbox.com/s/42wqap9…/2017-Sep-24_10-08-06.wav… and https://www.dropbox.com/s/a1re7rj…/2017-Sep-24_11-44-48.wav… We have numerous online conversations documented, both public and privately (for those that wish to share) that can show the history behind this situation. I'm (Mary Frampton) glad and willing to answer any questions anyone might have, as are the rest of the board members (Wade M, Brandi Pearson, Shahara LeFay, Mike Hoeppner, Nick Wozniak). Please talk to everyone. You will get a clear picture of what's been going on and who is at fault. There are also many people on this list that have witnessed some of the situation as well Feel free to speak up if you wish. Kaylus Faobhor Share Most Recent 1414 1 Share Comments Melissa Galewski Melissa Galewski This is very long and I'm sorry Wade, you are probably the only one that remembers me and my fiancé Matt and my now ex- girlfriend Trish, we were the ones from just outside of Milwaukee WI but my ex has a large property near Ogema. We always managed to join you for Samhain. The last year we were there Tonya performed ritual with the help of a few other people. Those people were fine she however was not. At the very end of the ritual I was on my knees whispering words to the sitting personification of Death 's hem. Tonya violently jerked me to my feet telling me that she would speak to me after the ritual she would be my go between the Gods. It was HER job she was the master of the ritual. She dragged me out of the circle fast. Ignoring my cane and ignoring my cries for her to slow down over the terrain. I'm disabled. I cannot go that fast and I really can't go that fast in the dark. I fell. And she snapped at me to stop being dramatic. I worried the whole night that I did something wrong in " hogging " Lady Death like that. However I was the last one to make sure I could speak to her personification on her most holy of nights. There was also a more personal reason which I won't get into. I was only speaking to her for maybe a minute before Tonya dragged me out and I was horrified. I was so horrified that I did something wrong. I was so horrified I begged her not to tell you that I did something wrong and it was actually her and Lady Death that dragged me to my feet. I still don't know who lady death was but after I begged them not to tell you I made my way back to the fire. It got worse, we had brought a guest that year and Tonya nailed me again coming back from the bathroom. She dragged me back to the dark corner of the main building and started telling me about how she was so sorry to tell me this but my boyfriend was kissing another guy in the woods and feeling him up. When I started laughing she got pissed. I told her we were poly and they were doing waaaay more than that last night. And if she wanted to watch me kiss my girl friend she could come back to the fire. Instead she lambasted me for nearly a half hour about my relationship choices and how he was abusing me. I tried to leave the first five minutes into it. The bitch snatched my cane and I was stuck listening until I started yelling and Oakbear wandered over of all people. And she thrust the cane at me and walked off and I asked Oakbear if there was anything wrong with us being Poly just like the first time we came he said of course not. Just before we left she came up to us at the cars and pulled me to the side and said she was clergy here and Deeply Rooted really wasn't a place for male abusers and aggressive people like me. Maybe I could come back with therapy but not an abuser like my boyfriend. That boyfriend who is now my fiancé. We've been together fourteen years now. We haven't been out since though we have been out to the trailer during ritual weekends. To be honest we were looking at Circle Sanctuary but avoided it because of all the drama. We loved DR and then the drama arrived there and it stayed as I watched the Facebook group and that was only a glimpse. When she opened all the messages up it is indubitably clear that you need to clear the board to the very oldest and most essential members and most importantly Wade M never EVER give the ultimate power to kick people off the land and out of DR up to you. Period. 4 Manage 15w · Edited Deeply Rooted Church Deeply Rooted Church Wade M here, I am so terribly sorry that happened. My failure in dealing with this properly has apparently caused more pain than I knew, I will work to make sure this never repeats Tracie Sage Wood Oh hell what a wacko. I'm surprised you didn't snap and hit her with that cane Manage 15w Melissa Galewski Melissa Galewski Deeply Rooted Church Thank You Wade, I guess seeing how the abuse continued it seems I should have said something sooner but I was so ashamed and embarrassed and I saw that she stayed on as clergy and then as a ruling board member who eventually starte...See More Manage 15w Deeply Rooted Church Deeply Rooted Church I understand the need to back up your friend and the subsequent urge to attack the other person. However, there is absolutely no need to continue this tirade. If you had looked- this post is continuing to fall and your comments have bumped it up to the top of everyone's attention, and I am asking you to please stop. There is enough going without adding more to it. Deeply Rooted Church Shahara here: we have a Women's Weekend coming up October 13-15. Please consider joining us for healing, sharing and joy. (And henna!) If anyone is interested in particular workshops, to present or hoping to hear, please share. Also, we are considering starting either a Facebook or Yahoo group particularly for DR women; if interested please contact me, Mary, Brandi, Kim or anyone involved up here 😊 blessed be! 3 Manage 15w Peggy McDowell Peggy McDowell It was so nice to see you at the Renn Fair. 1 Manage 15w Jake Stephani Jake Stephani You guys seemed nice at PSG, I wish I knew a group that didn't go through stuff like this. Manage 16w 1 Reply Reyna Christian Reyna Christian Wow, I just don't know what to say....I love D.R. and everyone who's apart of it. So to hear what had happened is just crazy. How sad. 🙁 Manage 16w Trevor G. Hanson Trevor G. Hanson Looks like Al and I choose a good time to focus on life stuff. Hope you guys get stuff straitened out soon. 2 Manage 16w Ceiya Dawn Ceiya Dawn I am now thankful that I dragged my feet coming to join you in person. I hope all will settle soon. I look forward to joining you in person at a celebration. Manage 16w ======

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Anomaly #48 by M59Gar

I received a letter today—but not through the mail. The envelope was left for me personally. This is not exactly what it said, but rather my interpretation.

We've met briefly twice. I feel compelled to write this to explain myself. Feel free to edit it or whatever, I'm not a writer like you.

I'm only an E-3 Private First Class, so I had no idea why I was spared the axe. I was basically a foot grunt in the Ohio Emergency Management Agency. The EMA handles prevention, preparation, and response for everything from weather crises to terrorist attacks. My particular department within the EMA is a bit less publicized, but, as you know, it's supposed to handle anything outside the bounds of normal. The problem is, I'm the only one still working here.

I didn't even have a desk. I spent most of my time driving from place to place and setting up equipment; we always did this in groups of four due to the unknown dangers. When the firings began, all I saw was our office building becoming emptier day by day. We started having to drive out to small towns across Ohio in groups of three, and then pairs. My partner that last day found transfer orders left for him on the secretary's front desk. He took the orders, grumbled, and headed out, while I was left to wander our darkened building in confusion.

The computers were all still there, but locked. Our equipment and gear remained. Fortunately I had a key to their storage rooms, but there was not a single officer, secretary, or grunt to be found. I figured it was only a matter of time until the new administration sent down transfer orders for me, too, and I just had to wait.

I actually stood the entire next day. Right there in the front area, I stood by the secretary's desk and waited. At any moment, an officer might come by with my orders, and it would not have been good for him to see me slacking off. At times, phones would ring in the back, but those offices were dark. Once the clock hit five, I waited another few minutes, but nobody came.

The next morning my legs still ached, so I said screw it and took a seat there in the lobby. For hours I sat staring at the clock and ignoring the phone calls echoing from the darkness. At some point, I picked up a magazine.

The next day was Friday. The orders had to come then, right? Nope. I stretched out along the chairs and went to sleep. If an officer wanted to bust my ass for that, I was beyond giving a shit anymore. By then, ten phones were ringing constantly in the dark.

Saturday, I drank. Sunday, I drank. Come Monday, I sifted through the mail that had been delivered through the wall slot looking for my transfer orders. Nothing. By then, all fifteen phones in the back offices were ringing constantly. Hungover as I was, I got pissed. I was a loyal soldier that always tried to follow the rules, but how much was a man expected to take?

I stomped back to the farthest office and picked up the phone. "JESUS, WHAT?"

The only response on the other end was a little girl crying.

That moment changed everything. I'd just assumed it was more government bullshit; I'd had no idea I'd been listening to cries for help for days and not answering. The rest of the EMA always transferred all abnormal calls to us, which meant they'd been transferring people to an answering machine all week. To that little girl, I remember saying with more compassion than I ever thought I had in me: "What's wrong?"

And she said, "Mommy and daddy aren't right."

The phone did have tracking information. Deshler, Ohio. I'd never heard of it. After a few half-answered questions and some Google Mapping, I told her, "I'll be there in two hours."

That was the first time I went out alone. It was against all our training, but I had no other option. I couldn't depend on civilians from other departments, and asking anyone outside the EMA would get me thrown in prison or worse for violating secrecy. I geared up as quickly as I could, throwing on every piece of gear I guessed I might possibly need and throwing even more in the humvee. It was lucky I brought the flamethrower, because I had to burn down a living church made of organs and bone. Then I had to burn a pile of flesh the parents of Deshler were making with their own cut-off limbs. Then, I had to burn some of the parents, too.

But that finally broke the control of the demonic flesh-church, and that little girl got her parents back minus one arm.

When that was done and I got back to the office a little after lunch time, I said the ultimate screw it and turned on all the lights in the building. After I found the central map of Ohio in what had been the operations area, I pulled all the phones out on long cords and sat them on a table next to the coffee maker. I was not authorized to answer the phones, but who was going to bust me?

Vinton, Ohio. A creek had turned into literal blood. I pushed a green pin into the map. Non-threatening as long as you use water filters.

Sabina, Ohio. The forest was dying around a strange new cave. I pushed a blue pin into the map. Localized phenomena, not too dangerous all things considered. Just don't go in the cave.

Brooksville, Kentucky. Sorry, you'll have to call the Kentucky office. They're not answering? It was a tough decision to make, but I couldn't help him.

Montrose-Ghent, Ohio. Corpses being found burned to death, but the people being identified by teeth are still alive and well? I considered it for a long time, and then put a red pin into the map. Possibly very dangerous and would require followup. If the citizens in the area called again convinced that the individuals with matching corpses were now acting strangely, I would know for certain they were being replaced.

And so it went as I tried to map the dangers. Along with the eighteen monitored anomalies that I'd inherited, there were forty-six ongoing incidents in Ohio. Yours was the forty-seventh. When you met me for the second time at that bar and I was piss drunk, it was because of the forty-eighth.

See, I'd been doing this alone for seven months by that time. For every minor success like burning down that living church, there were nine other total containment failures. I was one man. I managed to reroute all the office calls to my humvee and I spent every waking hour driving all across Ohio and back, but it was never enough. I began to realize that I could no longer intervene. All I could do alone was monitor. I was beginning to lose hope.

And the final nail in that feeling came when I actually managed to get the governor's office on the phone after months of trying. I got his direct aide, and I began to tell him about how my department was screwed and Ohio was bubbling over with dangers.

He said to me, "But your department still exists."

I said, "I'm the only one still working here. I can't—"

He cut me off and repeated, "But your department still exists, correct?"

"Uh, yeah, but—"

"Then the only thing you are authorized to tell anyone who asks is that your department still exists. You have no problem with the truth, right?"

I was sitting in my humvee watching a rising pillar of smoke in the distance as some small town burned. I'd driven through it and I'd seen the fire department sitting idle while the townsfolk worked together with buckets and well-water to put out the fires. It was incident #44, with a blue pin, and there was nothing I could do to help. "No sir, no problem with the truth."

"Good. The governor's considering a run for President in a few years, so let us know if any major incidents happen. We'll capitalize on that."

I frowned. "Capitalize on it, sir?"

"Contain it, I mean. Swiftly."

I wonder if he heard my uncomfortable swallow. "Alright."

And then I was left to continue my drive from site to site. As I took forest road after forest road, it hit me: they'd cleaned out the personnel from my department on purpose. They'd fired all but one—me—so that they could truthfully say the department still existed. The part they would leave out if anyone asked was that the department was only one Private First Class who could not prevent abnormal disasters on any meaningful scale.

Can I even possibly describe what that felt like? I'd been sold out. Given a duty impossible to handle so that I would fail. I wish I could write better. I wish I had the words. I was cold, and my heart felt like stone. That's why I turned her away when she ran up to my humvee and slammed her bare flat palms on the window.

I'd come to check out a possible anomaly, and I'd stopped on the road outside the small town in question at three in the afternoon. In broad daylight, she ran up to me in terror and begged for a ride out of town. She had long unkempt blonde hair and a silver crucifix on a silver chain around her neck.

Through the glass, I asked, "What's the problem?"

"People are divided," she shouted. "They hate each other!"

I was bitter, so bitter. "What's new?"

"You don't understand. They're all listening to the radio and getting crazy!"

It was no anomaly, just Midwest politics as normal. I thought to say something to her, but instead I just took off. She stood there defeated in my rear-view mirror, growing ever smaller as I watched.

On the way back to the office, I stopped on the outskirts of Columbus and drank. I sat at that bar and got friggin' wasted. That's when you ran into me, and that's why I said you were on your own, why I said we're all on our own.

There was nothing to do but keep driving. The next day, and the day after that. It was Wednesday when I sat outside a town square and watched hordes marching with torches in their hands and shouting angrily in unison as they protested or counter-protested issues unknown. I'd begun to listen to talk radio instead of music at some point, and concerned voices were discussing the rise in distrust, hate, and violence.

A female voice on the radio said, "They're all crazy. Literally lunatics. Where did this come from?"

I left that town square with its angry mobs and drove back to the office to sit in silence and stare at the map of Ohio with its green, blue, and red pins. It occurred to me that the number of anomalies in the state had more than doubled in the last seven months. There'd been no pattern so far—

The image of that terrified blonde woman and her silver crucifix would not leave my mind.

Where had I seen her? I'd deemed it normal and put no pin, but if I did—

I grabbed another map and overlaid a transparency of the river system.

Then I grabbed a transparency of Ohio's caves.

Of course the pins didn't make a coherent shape! I'd been looking at roads and coordinates, not rivers and caves—and yet I should have thought of it months before. Creeks turning to blood, cave entrances appearing and rotting life around it, it was all connected.

And that small town with that terrified blonde woman was right at the center. From that spot, all of Ohio could be reached through underground means.

There was only one black pin, a classification of threat all its own, and I pushed that black pin into the dot that represented her town.

I sat back and stared at the map, taking in the truth. Now what?

I had to go out there. Despite hopelessness, despite how afraid I was of what I might find, I had to drive out there. Was it time to call in reinforcements? I didn't know exactly what I was up against yet, so I tried to call friends and colleagues from other states.

Kentucky—no answer.

Indiana—no answer.

Pennsylvania—no answer.

West Virginia—still expending all resources struggling to contain the coal demon.

And those assholes in Michigan certainly wouldn't ever help an Ohioan.

Alone it was.

But it didn't feel like I was alone. On the hour drive out there, I had the radio to reassure me. Her voice was as concerned and scared as I was, and guest after guest confirmed what I was feeling: an insanity and blight was creeping across the land, leaving the trappings of civilization in place, but undermining us from below in ways that left us vulnerable to sudden collapse.

On that drive down dim forest roads, a peculiar chiming kind of urgent despair fueled me. I had every weapon and device I could think of in the back of the humvee, but I still felt unprepared. There was nobody to call for help and no backup, and the men in power would only make it worse by trying to use a disaster for their own ends. If I didn't find a way to stop the black-pinned anomaly, what might they do? Give themselves more power? Suspend elections? Declare martial law?

The radio echoed these concerns before I even thought of them myself. Her voice kept me focused.

It was two in the afternoon when I pulled up to that town square. A pedestal stood in the middle of a fountain, but there was no trace of the statue that might have been upon it. Traces of garbage littered the wide flat brick area, hinting that some great commotion had happened here.

With a gas mask on and my assault rifle slung back but ready, I got out of my vehicle and quietly circled the main fountain. There was no telling how a black-pin level threat might present itself, but I had some idea that it had to do with insanity and blight.

The first sign of life was a local resident passing by on the sidewalk; she was white-haired and frail, and she flipped me off when she saw me.

Okay.

Birds flew overhead and a squirrel ran up a tree. My test kit from the back of the humvee showed nothing abnormal with the air, so I took off my gas mask.

Looking in a window, I saw a general store in normal operation. I entered slowly, gun half-hidden behind me, and lurked along the back shelves while listening to two customers. They sounded normal.

I grabbed a candy bar and went up to the front counter, acting nonchalant. The owner was a gruff man in his fifties, and I began to feel a little nauseous as I got near.

He asked, "You local militia?"

Lying, I just nodded as I got change from my pocket. What was making me feel sick? It was a noise. Some sort of staticy disgusting sound; I looked past him and saw a radio with its power light on. He was listening to some sort of horrific channel that was emanating vile filth. I kept myself from wincing as I studied the bits of what looked like liquid gold that had oozed out of the speakers and onto the walls around the radio.

"You like him?" the shopkeeper asked. "He's got great points."

I nodded, lying again. He could hear words in that horrible noise that made me sick. That was it: that was the threat. I left the store, hurried around the corner, and vomited in the grassy alley.

That woman had said people were listening to the radio and acting crazy—now I knew she'd been completely serious. But what effect was it having on them? Life seemed to be going on as normal here, except old women were flicking me off and shopkeepers were happy to see supposed armed militia men that were neither police nor military.

I sat in my humvee for an hour listening to the radio myself, this time to a local channel that was increasingly turning to talk of resistance. This woman seemed to be talking in metaphor, though.

"The servants of Gold are all going insane," she said. "That's how he likes them. The longer they listen to his message of hate, the more agitated they become. Even good people will turn to violence if indoctrinated long enough. We have to prepare ourselves for what is coming."

The servants of Gold... did she mean people listening to that particular nauseating noise? Around three in the afternoon I left my humvee and visited another two shops to confirm: each building had a radio playing that god-awful noise.

And each radio was oozing liquid gold.

On touch, it was solid and cold. I could not lift the radios from their splotch of hardened gold, nor could I turn the knob to change the channel. Gold had crusted over all possibility of stopping the noise, and had even coated the power cord and fused the plug to the wall socket. I tried to use my combat knife to break through the gold and cut the power to one of the radios when the shopkeep wasn't looking, but I was only barely able to knick the stuff.

And every few minutes I had to go outside and throw up. That screeching and vile noise simply could not be tolerated for very long, and I was worried it was going to cause serious damage to me somehow. How could they listen to it? They were all nodding along to it, often in sync with each other as they did so, and customers often commented in agreement with unheard points.

When I felt sickest, I retreated to my vehicle, and the local channel made me feel better. "Perhaps it's innate evil," she continued saying. "Perhaps only those with evil in their hearts can hear the message of Gold. Those of us who are sickened by it must fight back as best we can. Everything the servants of Gold touch is tainted, and we must take a stand against them!"

Where was this message coming from? There was no identifying information. All I could do was listen, and listen I did. I sat and watched the townsfolk go by. Some eyed my military vehicle with distrust. Those people did not go into the shops that had been playing the message of Gold.

The sky began to darken to a grey-blue gloom when I awoke from a lull thanks to the snap of the voice on the radio. "The time is now! They march!" I rubbed my eyes and looked out across the square.

A wall of marching men was approaching from the distance. Many held torches. I checked my map to ensure this was not a town I'd directly visited before. How many rallies like this were there? And were they nightly? Other denizens of the town were fleeing past my windows.

I turned and looked back.

They weren't running. They were gathering.

The mob approaching from the other side of the town square were carrying buckets of water en masse, and I slid down in my seat and made sure my doors were locked. My vehicle had been built to withstand military assaults, so I was sure I was mostly safe, but it was still unsettling to watch people flow past my windows with angry faces and tensed stances.

The two crowds met at the center, forming opposing fronts at the empty pedestal. For a few minutes, the two sides shouted at each other in a cacophonous roar. Finally, one young man on the torch-bearing side jumped on the pedestal and tried to claim the space.

A bucket was swung and water flew up to douse the young man's torch. Made soggy, he backed down, and a surge of violence almost pushed forward. Older men at the front held their torch-bearing younger compatriots back. I expected a full-on riot to start any moment, but the two sides merely glared at each other—and then began to disperse back home. As quickly as the showdown had begun, it faded away, and I searched the crowd in the dim evening gloom until I saw her.

Finally getting out, I approached the blonde woman who had once asked me for help. "Hey, do you still need a ride out of here?"

She turned at my touch and reacted defensively, but then saw that it was me. "Do you have any silver?"

I noticed that her necklace and crucifix were gone. "No, why?"

"Can I sell you something?" she asked.

Confused, I asked, "Like what?"

"Anything. Anything I own. Clothes. Food. Keepsakes." She clutched my arm near my slung gun. "I need to buy more silver." She looked toward the pedestal at the center of the square. "They want Gold to stand there, to be our new Lord. We have to stop them. They're all insane."

"I don't have any money. Or silver."

Sighing, she hurried off before I could her ask her more questions.

I had no choice but to go home. That night, I slept fitfully. I needed to know more. Something was happening in that town that had to do with the poisoning of my entire state, but I couldn't see the connections just yet.

Thursday morning I was back early and asking questions. I listened to that woman on the radio talking of resistance and solidarity on the way up, and, this time, I found the half the townsfolk that were not listening to the vile message of Gold. They were immediately receptive to me, as if I was one of them, as if all good people of the world were immediately on their side, and they explained in hushed tones what had been happening.

A year before, a deathly ill homeless man had wandered into town. He'd brought with him a large book and a small statue. His only words in the local doctor's office had been, "Burn it."

But of course they'd opened the book and touched the statue instead of burning either one of them. The doctor and the mayor had, together, ignored the homeless man's warning.

The mayor had been the first to start talking about a new way of thinking.

Half of the town didn't understand what he meant. His ideas were nonsense and his words didn't seem to mean what he thought they meant. His rhetoric switched often between anger and fear, but the reasons were inexplicable.

Half of the town agreed completely with every word. Makes sense, they would say, and yet when asked to explain why, they would simply repeat what the mayor had said, making no more sense than he. In the months since, the divide had widened.

I understood. Either the book or the statue was the source of the infection, and it was some sort of viral or memetic mode of thought that naturally seemed able to infect only half the population.

While we talked, the radio played for all of us, confirming what we were talking about.

"It helps to keep us sane to know that we're not the only ones feeling this way," one young woman told me, indicating the radio. "Drowns out that hateful noise that Gold spews out on the radio day in and day out."

An older woman gripped my wrist. "Got any silver?"

"Does it counteract Gold's influence somehow?" I asked, thinking of the silver crucifix.

The old woman nodded. "In a way, yes."

These were the only useful facts I got out of the conversations that day. Much of the time was wasted talking about how horrible the followers of Gold had been to them, how hateful the things they said and did were, and how insane and hypocritical they acted. At long last, they gave me the location of the book, and I decided to investigate.

The book had been set upon a pedestal in the Unified Church near the town square. Previously, Muslims, Christians, and more had used it as a place of worship together. Now, it sat empty and dusty. The front doors closed behind me slowly, cutting off the afternoon light, but I had my flashlight on my weapon to guide me.

Past the pews and up the steps at the back, I stood under the dim multicolored light from the stained glass windows and held a lighter to the corners of the book. No investigation, no reading. Screw that. As old and dried out as it was, it caught fire easily and burned away in moments. I watched from a few steps back until the embers died out, and then I went and sat in my humvee, mission accomplished.

But that night, Thursday night, the townsfolk again gathered in the square to scream at and bait one another. Multiple splashes of water were thrown, multiple torches were doused, and several buckets and wet torch-sticks were thrown on the brick between the gathered crowds.

I hadn't done anything at all by burning the book. Damnit. Back at the office, I looked up the foreign words that had been on the cover, and I found out that they'd been Greek for The Journal of Alexander of Macedon. What secrets or instructions it had contained, I would never know.

Some of the townsfolk had also mentioned an eclipse as some sort of approaching problem, and I looked it up: the next one would occur in four days on August 21.

The next day, Friday, I drove up again and listened to the increasingly frantic talk on the radio. Someone's house had been burned down mysteriously in the night. They were alright, but their home was not, and tensions were rising. Some were demanding retribution.

That day, the showdown in the town square was earlier, at five o'clock, and I used the sudden opportunity to sneak back to the parts of town controlled firmly by the followers of Gold. I had a mind to find that statue.

Thing was, their houses were bare. There was no furniture, no belongings, just hundreds of boxes littering the neighborhood that were all from an online cash for gold site.

They'd sold everything they owned for gold. Literal gold.

The only object left in every home was a radio plastered to the wall or to the floor by hardened oozing gold. Why didn't they take that stuff out from around the radios if they were so desperate for it? I again used my knife, this time with more freedom since nobody was around, but I found that I couldn't even knick it anymore. It was stronger than before, and no doubt could not be removed by the townsfolk at all.

Now where was that statue? The resistance had described it as about six inches tall, so I figured it would be hard to locate. It wasn't until I passed it four times that I realized the tarp-covered form in the mayor's yard had to be it. I pulled the tarp off and stared up at it.

Six inches tall? That godforsaken thing was eight feet, and was carved in the form of an ancient hero in the style of Greek statues I'd seen in textbooks in school. It was pure gold from its bare feet to its ivy-crowned head, and I had the eeriest feeling that it might turn and look at me at any moment despite showing no ability to move on its own.

Just to confirm, I turned on my radio—and turned it off just as quickly as I nearly passed out. The evil radio signal was incredibly strong here at its source: the statue itself. It was not just a statue made of gold. It was the entity Gold itself, taller and stronger for all that the controlled half the townsfolk had nurtured it.

I hid beyond the trees for two hours to get proof of what I suspected. As the conflict in the square let out, many of those that bore torches now returned and offered up pieces of gold jewelry and coins and trinkets. These were absorbed into the statue on contact, and it grew slightly bigger as I watched from afar.

It was also guarded by twenty men with assault rifles equal to mine. That would be the local self-trained militia, policing their interests even though they had no right to do what they were doing. Who was going to stop them?

I drove home that night and prepared as much C-4 as my depleted department had left. I would blow that monstrous thing back to Hell long before Monday. Letting it survive until the eclipse seemed like a bad idea.

But I would need help.

"There are almost always men around that statue," I told my co-conspirators in a resistance meeting in the home of the blonde woman I'd met twice. Her name was Kara, and she'd sold everything she owned to buy silver. The only thing she had left now was a radio in the corner, and we met while it gave off soothing notes of confirmation and solidarity in the background. "I need to know when the next rally is ahead of time."

"They're not exactly planned," one of the girls said. "We just show up when everyone else is showing up."

"Then how does everyone else know when to show up?" I asked.

The girl pointed to the radio. "When she says it's time, that the other side is coming. She warns us."

"Who cares?" Kara demanded. "It's time to start killing anyone who believes in Gold. He's obviously pure evil, and his followers are insane idiots. Literal Nazis. Can't they see what's happening to them?"

I nodded. It was a little extreme the way she put it, but I did wonder how they could be so blind to the truth of what was happening.

Saturday's rally showdown happened at four in the afternoon. It was raining heavily, so the C-4 plan was a no-go. There were too many complications with the heavy downpour; notably, I couldn't confirm every one of Gold's followers was at the town square. Without torches, they were far more timid. With the torrents pouring down, the resistance was emboldened, and Gold's side backed down first.

That night, I didn't drive home. I stayed in town in one of Kara's empty rooms. We sat and listened to that supportive voice on the radio until the late hours. I don't remember sleeping, but the woman on the radio told us Gold's people were back with a vengeance because of yesterday's slight. At three o'clock on Sunday, we got our gear together and joined the flow of the resistance on the street.

I separated from the crowd and slipped past them. This time, though the ground was wet, the air was dry, and all of Gold's people were out with their torches. The mayor's house was unguarded, and Gold stood glowering over all the land, ten feet tall and in a more aggressive stance than before.

Absurd overkill was what I would call it. I used all the C-4 I had, and it took out the mayor's house completely and set two neighboring homes on fire. I laughed and clenched my fist in the air as the cloud of dust and soot rolled across town.

But when that dust settled, Gold was shining and undamaged—and his face was now towards my hiding spot in the woods. His blank Greek-statue eyes were on mine. He had not moved as far as I had seen, but still he had caught me. As the angry mob with torches surged back to investigate the explosion, I ran.

That had been my only chance.

We all stayed up the entire night listening to the screaming and shouting on the streets. Random houses were lit on fire as both men and women ran amok in secret, no one knowing exactly who was responsible and no one wanting to know. Each side assumed the other lit whichever fire harmed them anyway; specific individual culpability no longer mattered. When Monday dawned bright and hot, nobody had died yet, but the fever of hate had us all burning at the edge.

A fire-axe in hand, Kara recited to many of us in her empty living room, "The eclipse will peak at 2:30 PM, when the moon obscures eighty-six percent of the sun. We will still have some light, but it will be a dark time for us all if Gold is allowed to reach the center of town."

"The moon is at a disadvantage against the sun," one girl said.

An older woman replied, "Which only means we must fight that much harder."

Kara gripped my shoulder and told me, "Go hold the line. We'll need you. Try to block what you can with your humvee."

I nodded. I wouldn't let them down.

At 1:12 PM, I peered up with my sunglasses on and finally noticed that it was happening.

At 1:47 PM, the chanting of Gold's followers reached my ears, preceding the men themselves. I took up position behind my vehicle, and good that I did, for at least forty of them had automatic weapons. They held these at the ready as they appeared across the square. Others bore torches.

At 1:51 PM, the ground began to shake ever so slightly. I stared in horror as a gold form as tall as a house appeared from around the corner and stepped slowly into view.

Gold was animate, and he was approaching. His eyes were blank and his face was expressionless, but I could feel the hate coming from him in waves. What would happen if he was allowed to reach the central pedestal of this town? The men were screaming for me to stand down even as a wall of people approached behind me with weapons of their own. This place was about to be a killing zone; a massacre under the darkening sky; a human sacrifice of hundreds for a new God made of gold.

But the ground was shaking again, and I peered over my shoulder in surprise.

Behind me, behind the resistance movement with their guns and buckets of water, appeared a silver statue as tall as a house. Carved in the Greek style and bearing the form of a heroic woman or ancient goddess, it stepped forward in direct opposition.

"Help her!" Kara shouted to all of us. "We must help Silver reach the center of town!"

2:12 PM, and the eclipse would reach its darkest in nineteen minutes. I stared at Silver as she approached, and as she drew closer I felt the same bolstering energy that I'd been getting from the radio this entire week. The ground shook as Gold and Silver took steps closer at the same time, and the followers clustered around each roared for blood.

"Take the shot!" Kara screamed at me. "Shoot them!"

But I was frozen in place by shock and awe. Why hadn't they told me? And why hadn't I seen? They were seized by the same mania as the men with torches, just in opposition. None of us had seen it, while at the same time wondering why the enemy couldn't see their insanity. I let my gun slide back around my shoulder and instead gripped my head. Were there—had there been?—I smashed open a nearby window and leapt into a house.

As dangerous as it was to create the sound of gunfire, I shot the radio I found therein. Its signal went from reassuring words to silence, and I finally saw the truth.

Silver had oozed out of the speakers and hardened all across it, making it impossible to turn the radio off or change the channel.

Hate your enemy, they're insane. Bear fire / water. Your fellow citizens are monsters. Ally the men / women. Fight each other. Sacrifice at the apex of the sun / moon. Kill each other. Murder each other in the streets, turn the world red with blood, but above all, give me gold / silver. Make me stronger.

That was the real message.

One message.

Just one message, delivered two different ways.

It was the same being.

Gold and Silver were one entity with two faces.

And the pain in my head was echoing torture now that neither message held me enthralled. This was the blight, the poison, the cancer—a message oozing out into the land. It would start here with the sacrifice of a thousand men, women, and children, and it would spread once Gold/Silver knew how best to divide and conquer us.

My watch: 2:23 PM. Eight minutes. What to do? What to do? I ran back out into the square under a ruddy sky leaking blood upon us as a dark drizzle of madness. The two lines of followers faced each other with guns drawn, so many guns, so many weapons, each side screaming for the other side to start the violence and be the ones to blame. Meanwhile, Gold and Silver stood tall among them, nearing the center.

What object was I missing? What detail? There had to be some way to stop this.

Who hadn't I seen in all this insanity? Who hadn't I met? There had to be someone here who—

The homeless man.

The doctor's office!

I ran down the street and smashed through another window. There were four beds within, and one held the ill old man. He'd been here the entire time, and nobody had thought to ask his opinion. While the ground shook and the light from the windows deepened to darkest blood red, I screamed over the roar of the crowd: "Alexander! What do we do?"

He blearily opened his eyes.

"Tell me how to stop Gold and Silver!"

He blinked a few times, and then murmured, "Burn it."

"I did!" I shrieked in his face. "I burned your journal! I did that already!"

He shook his head, and his matted grey mane of hair exaggerated the motion. He touched my sternum. "Burn it."

I didn't solve his riddle. I'm not that smart. But what I did do was run to the gas station at the corner and fill a container with gasoline. At 2:29 PM, pulse racing near to knocking me out, I ran down the open space between the two lines and stood on the pedestal myself as bare gold and silver feet planted themselves on either side.

I knew nobody would hear me if I shouted, so I just did it.

I raised the container and started pouring gasoline on myself. The liquid rushed down over my hair and down my face; I tilted it back and shifted the flow mostly onto my back.

Then, I held up the lighter I'd used to burn the journal.

The screaming and shouting on either side of me died down as the folk that had been normal men and women now began to comprehend what I was doing.

I turned around and showed everyone the lighter. To my right, Gold stopped stepping forward. To my left, Silver stood motionless.

Silence fell.

What could I say? I was no speech-giver, no officer. "Look at yourselves!" My words echoed around the dead silent square. For a moment, they lowered their weapons. I could only think of how assemblies had been handled in school. "Raise your hands if you've been told to hate your opposition!"

Ever so slowly, people on both sides began to raise their hands.

"Look!" I said, laughing because of the incredible tension. "Don't you think that means something? Gold wants you hate them, Silver wants you to hate them? Let me ask you this: what did that sick homeless man bring to town?"

"A book," one of the men with torches called out.

"And a statue," Kara added.

I pointed. "That's it. That's it! One statue! Just one!"

People began looking at each other in confusion, something I took as a hopeful sign.

"They're the same!" I shouted as loud as I could. "You see two statues here, opposed and opposite, but they're the same! You've all given every single thing you own to make it stronger. It. One thing. One entity. And you're all about to kill each other in sacrifice to it like some sort of insane Mayan cult!"

I think I stood in fearful silence for nearly thirty seconds while people began to murmur to one another. I was deathly aware of the nearby torches and the lighter in my hand that might set me ablaze at any moment. The two statues stood tall above me on either side, and yet neither made a move to crush me.

The first act was done at random. A woman threw a bucket at Silver.

Where it struck, water spilled, and a section of the goddess statue began to dissolve.

To my right, someone threw a torch, and a bit of the heroic statue caught fire.

Seeing that, at 2:31 PM, instead of allowing that entity to lord over them, angry citizens defended their town by throwing torches and water, burning and melting one into a pile of molten gold and dissolving the other into a pool of inert silver.

I backed away and turned off my lighter.

The red hue in the sky faded as the eclipse reached its peak and continued on without incident.

Leaving the square, I entered a half-burnt-out house and washed the gasoline off with tap water, crying for some reason the entire time. I'd never been so close to death, and I'd never seen anything like that. Worst of all, I felt stupid for being so duped, for being so blind. It would never have come to all that if I had just been able to see the truth.

Exhausted and drained, the people went back to their homes for the night, this time with apologies, hugs, and commiseration. They would never let this happen again, they promised each other.

I sat in my humvee and watched the pools of silver and gold. I wasn't ready to drive. I wasn't ready to do anything. I turned up the heat to counteract the physiological effects of shock.

Afternoon became evening, and I watched the wanderer Alexander enter the square and scoop up a small handful of liquid gold and silver. In his hand, it formed into a humanoid statue about six inches tall. I got out and stormed across brick, ready to confront him with my weapon drawn, but as I rounded the fountain and the murky bloody waters it still contained from the earlier unholy rain, I could no longer see him. Statue in hand, he'd vanished.

And I was left with nothing else to do except drive home. On the way, I stopped by your neighborhood and saw that you had all collectively built a wall around your anomaly and were guarding it together. That sight made me feel better. Alexander of Macedon is still out there, and wherever he roams, the curse of Gold and Silver will rise again—but each community has a strength made of the hearts of the people in it. Together, they can beat anything, whether the threat comes from within or without.

That's my new plan. I'm not alone at all. Wherever danger appears, I will go and try to help the community handle it together. We may no longer be able to depend on government to handle these things, but we will always have each other.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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