#i guessed as much information as i could based on what i'd been told. played it super casual & just. hoped it would work

[pa-pa-plasma]

so my dad's phone got stolen the other day from his work truck & he explained what happened cuz he saw the security footage, and he didnt have any other way of calling or texting anyone so he naturally radioed his supervisor to tell him to do it, but his supervisor didnt text, just left a voicemail which is stupid, so i decided to text my dad's phone aka the thief this:

and apparently it was TOO effective because today (edit: March 16th, 2022, roughly 2 days later). the man showed up to the desk sobbing so hard no one could understand him. He returned the phone and barely got out that he stole it before leaving

Suffice it to say, I believe I put a grown man off of stealing for the rest of his life. If you're out there random man, I'm sorry I traumatized you. I was bluffing. We had no idea who you were, even with the cameras, and I'm not even sure if you would actually go to jail for taking some oldass phone from an unlocked truck. Thank you for cleaning the phone I guess. My dad barely recognized it.

[anglespin]

DUDE, THE DRAGONS YOU TAKE INSPO FROM ARE SO COOL?? Woahhhh, now I have two new games to reference from. Personally, I take a lot of reference from DOTA: Dragon's Blood and a little bit of Dragon's Dogma for the dragon heart/weakness idea. (Been having a dragon au brewing in my head for RE ngl) How do you think your Leons would've got infected? I'm just asking cause usually people do something along the lines of 'this guy got infected and turned into a dog hybrid'! Or something like that. (Genetics would apply to that too, possibly???) I guess this also applies to Las Plagas Leon, but honestly the way he could've got infected could be very different from RE4/RE4R if you want to go that route. (Honestly this goes for all you hybrid Leons in general, so if you wanna answer don't complicate it too much so I don't make your brain or something die bc of me 😭)

JUST WANTED TO ASK THISSSSS!!

Receives your heart and throws millions back at you ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

I havent really seen anything for those two games you've mentioned... I'd love to try Dragon's Dogma though I think?

I grew up on Dragon Age so those two dragons got a special place in my heart. The ArchDemon is crazy awesome and spooky looking!!! I also love Flemmeth's dragon design as well, but I didn't use hers for anything.

My plaga Leon specifically was infected through RE4-- just with a major twist and fuckery on my part.

Leon was given a Queen Plaga instead of a normal one in order to subdue his will far easier. Saddler had known based on what he'd been told by his people that Leon was formidable and unstoppable... so he ordered Menendez to "convert" him with one. Also Saddler was very interested in expanding the holy body's hierarchy (not in a weird, breedy way though) since the Queen had no host that could take it's will and power. This is based on the Remake version of events because I haven't played OG4 yet... I have it on my pc.

Krauser's own actually reacts to the Queen Plaga

The Plaga he was given hadn't been killed when he was treated... instead it had gone dormant in shock. The treatment wasn't in time and also the plaga was just too strong to be taken out. It re-emerges once he's in the United States during his quarantine post-mission.

The US government was indeed very interested in the Plagas once they were informed of them... and Leon having a Queen specimen was very... promising. Especially because the Queen is independent from Saddler and that means Leon can command soldiers. (Which is why I have BOW armor Leon... He's deployed with Verdugos on missions. Also I want to have Leon vs. Chris at some point w it cause it sounds SUPER COOL!!! Chris wouldn't know its Leon though hehe)

C-Virus.... I've always liked to use C-virus for shit so I was like: Government experiments on Leon a little bit in some super soldier program designed to use Las Plagas as biological enhancements. They create their own Verdugos and Leon can command them as a Queen bee can. They also discover that C-Virus and Plagas are pretty compatible. It gives Plaga Leon the ability to change as far as needed... and revert back without much issues.

Leon's DNA is used for alot of the projects so everything is actually traceable back to him

Plaga Leon is actually not that strong. Chris can still go toe to toe easily with him. He's only stronger when he's more transformed... then uhhh survive :3c

The BSAA heavily pushes into investigations of the US Government and eventually the DSO over Human Rights violations among other things involving the creation and use of BOW's for their own interests. Chris actually pressures Leon over it alot... but Leon is utterly terrified of saying anything because its extremely dangerous and top secret information (also he was ahem.. conditioned to not spare a peep).

The Magenta eyes were an intentional design choice because red is kinda corny imo and also i thought it was cool :3c

KSDFJSLKFJSL AAAA HEARTS!!!

[tblsomedoodles]

If it isn’t much to ask. Could you give us more information about Casey and Aprils kids, more specifically there personality’s and maybe interest?(I tried to look online for Marie’s but found nothing)

And give me an excuse to break out my comic books? I'd love to!

Alright, I'm going to rant a bit about comic book cannon Casey Marie first since that's who Adopted au CM is based off of (that and she's great lol)

Casey Marie is April and Casey's daughter from a tmnt comic series called "The Last Ronin" (if she's in anything else, i do not know. This is where i know her from.)

(it's a fantastic, five volume series with gorgeous art and a great, yet tragic, story. Basic summary without spoilers is that 20+ years into the future, the foot clan has taken over and walled off NYC controling everyone inside. One of the turtle's mission is to break in to NYC and take down the head of the Foot clan, Shredder's grandson, even if it kills him. I don't want to say more than that but if you like to read comics please read it!)

anyways! This is Casey Marie Jones as she's first properly introduced.

In "The Last Ronin". Her age is a little unclear but if i had to guess she's somewhere in her late teens. She was born after her father died thus ended up named after him. She runs a small resistance against the Foot and grew up idolizing a group of ninja turtles she never had a chance to meet. She even tried teaching herself ninjutsu but ends up gaining the remaining turtle (name redacted for spoiler reasons) as a sensei upon him seeing said attempt and not being able to ignore the mistakes that could get her hurt.

(i wish i had some comic panels from this part but, alas, they are in the 1 ISSUE i do not own of his series. so instead have a picture of her being cool on the cover of the 5th issue, post haircut of course.)

Personality wise, she's pretty cool. she cares very deeply for her family and rebel group (Which may as well be her family as well.) Shes stubborn, doing what she thinks is right regarless of what she's been told, but also can have a bit of a temper.

She's also a bit of a jokester, often seen teasing Redacted (that's just what i'm calling him now) (which he has no idea how to handle. Teenagers confuse him lol)

(he looks so shocked/offended lol)

She and Redacted end up being pretty close, and he's very protective of her. She's their friends' only daughter, of course he would be. By the end they're practically family.

OK!

Now that i'm done ranting about Cannon Casey Marie (b/c she's great) i'll move on to what Adopted AU Casey Marie (and Jackie) are like!

Casey would definitely be fascinated by ninjutsu growing up, to the point of getting Angie to teach her the stuff he got taught and eventually getting to learn straight from Leo (which i stated before but eh. I can say it again.)

She'd be stubborn, confident, and ready to fight over anything she deems worthy of it (nothing gets her to start a fight faster than someone picking on her little sister.) She's tech smart like her mom but would rather fight than do tech stuff on the sidelines.

Jackie (i'm making this one up as i go so it might end up changing some) is a little more reserved than Casey, but not by much. Looking at the two together, you'd think she was the calm/shy one, but she's not. especially whenever she's playing a competitive sport. She inherited her dad's love of Hockey and turns into an absolute feral gremlin as soon as her skates hit the ice. (she plays other sports too, but Hockey is her main.) (she also looks the most like April. so she's just this little Red head running around with a hockey stick, which i find absolutely adorable.)She likes ninjutsu as well, but as more of a hobby while Casey thinks of it as a career goal.

I think both girls would like art as well, but mostly just see it as something to do with Angie.

thank you!

[creweemmaeec11]

Avoiding Love Pt2

Second part! Enjoy!

First part

When the hero awoke the next day, he could hear shuffling in the room. When his eyes finally cracked open, the room was full of sunlight, meaning not only had he slept in late, the villain hadn't disappeared yet, based on the shuffling he heard.

The hero sat up, and saw the villain was leaning back against the table, facing the corkboard on the wall where he had hung up a couple different notes. He was looking better, and must have gotten a shower while the hero was asleep.

"I reached out to a friend who owed me a favor," the villain started conversationally as he continued looking over the corkboard, not sparing the hero a glance, "She just got back to me this morning. I had her hack into the powerplant computer systems and download a map of the building,"

The villain turned, leaning over a large piece of paper the hero hadn't seen before.

"basically the weapon were supposed to find-"

"What are you doing?" The hero interrupted, getting out of bed and taking a few hesitant steps towards the villain.

"What does it look like? Working the job obviously,"

His tone of voice made the hero's stomach suddenly drop. It was casual, though lacked any true emotion. Like a character acting in a play. A front of perfection and control that made the hero want to claw it away because it was just so *fake, fake, fake.*

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it..."

The villain didn't even react to the hero's words, he just hummed in agreement.

"You remember how I said the whole being in love thing was a waste of time? Well, case in point, think about how much time we've wasted over this."

"I-"

"Had supervillain never said anything, had you never found out, we would have probably been ready to get this stupid weapon by tomorrow. I could have just smothered the feelings out with you being none the wiser. Simple."

"Would you really have never told me?" The hero asked quietly.

"Don't ask stupid questions," the villain said flatly.

"But-"

"I'm done. This is why I stopped caring about things in the first place. It only creates problems; more complications, miscalculations and drama that nobody needs,"

The hero felt their heart shatter.

"I mean, I actually put in an effort yesterday!" He snorted indignantly, "do you have any idea how many people I'd willingly do that for? I can count them on own hand, even if you cut off four fingers!"

The hero winced.

The villain sighed, re-grounding himself, "so, you do what you're going to do. I'm going to finish this so I can get paid and go home,"

"Wait-"

"No, I'm not interested in-"

"IM IN LOVE WITH YOU TOO, OKAY!?" The hero blurted out.

The villain stared at them in silence for a few moments, processing what had been said before his face shifted, "and you call me cruel. What do you think your doing? I said to let it go, so what the hell are you trying to accomplish-"

The hero's eyes widened, "no, no! I'm not playing! I mean it!" He pleaded desperately, taking a step closer.

The villain faltered, furrowing his brows in confusion, "why would you..."

"Why do you think I was so hurt?! I found out you felt the same way, and before I could say anything, I found out you pretty much hate the fact you feel that way! But I was a jerk, I know you, I know why you reacted the way you did. You were so sure and afraid of rejection you didn't even want to give me the opportunity to turn you down. Especially when someone else exposes your feelings, I can't even imagine the panic- and I still let my emotions take the lead, even though I knew you weren't trying to hurt me. Instead of showing I was hurt it probably looked like all your worst fears were correct after all and just... I'm sorry, okay?"

The villain blinked, taking a moment to process the information.

"really?"

"Yes! Really I swear. You know me. I'd never lead you on or lie to you like this,"

The villain took a deep breath, irritation draining from his posture, though it was still guarded, "Okay. I'm sorry too, I guess. It was childish to avoid you, especially before even hearing you out," he admitted, earning a smile from the hero, "can we get back to this now?"

"No, not yet," the hero replied, taking another step forward so they were only an arms reach away from the villain, "because your still in your shell,"

"What-"

"I know I hurt you, and it took me months to draw you out of your shell the first time, but please don't block me out again. *please,*" he practically begged.

The villain faltered, a small smile appearing on his face as he relaxed fully, "I thought hero's were supposed to play by the rules," he muttered

The hero looked at him in confusion.

"Puppy eyes is cheating," the villain finished, smiling more as the hero's face lit up.

"Desperate times," the hero replied before jumping forward and wrapping their arms around the villains neck tightly.

The villain froze at first, before melting into the hug. He felt the hero burying their head into his shoulder. The villain rolled his eyes fondly, despite the hero being unable to see it as he began running a hand up and down the hero's back.

They stood like that for a few moments, when suddenly the villain heard a gentle sniffle, and he froze.

"Hey, what-" He began softly, attempting to pull back from the hug to look at the other's face, but the hero's arms just tightened around him, preventing escape from the embrace.

"I was so scared I was going to loose you over this and-" the hero began rambling, burying his head further into the other's shoulder.

"Hey, hey, shhhhh. I'm right here okay? I'm not going anywhere. You won't lose me that easily," the villain reassured, hand traveling up to card through the hero's hair, scratching at his scalp affectionately.

"Besides," he continued after a moment of silence, "we both know you're far too stubborn to let something like that happen anyway,"

The hero snorted, laughing, "yeah, that's true,"

There was another few moments of silence, the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall.

"I missed you," The hero muttered, voice dampened by the fabric of the villains top.

"Yeah, me too..." the villain admitted almost sheepishly. He felt the hero squeeze his shoulders slightly in response.

"But as nice as this is..." The villain continued, "We've already pretty much wasted 5 days. We should really-"

"I'm not moving." The hero stated matter-of-factly, "I'm comfy, and I missed you, and you owe me after avoiding me for 3 days,"

It was the villains turn to laugh, "I already said I was sorry darling,"

The hero felt his heart skip a beat.

*Darling*

The nickname had a different ring to it now after their confessions then it did before.

"I know, and you're forgiven, but now you still have to make it up to me sunshine," The hero replied, using his nickname for the villain in some form of revenge.

The hero felt the villan freeze, which was a very satisfying feeling.

"Can I convince you to let go long enough for me to pick out a movie and we can move to the couch?"

"If you're quick and promise we can cuddle while watching it. What happened to wanting to get the job done?"

The villain sighed, "I got a fair bit done this morning so I suppose one more day couldn't hurt,"

*Especially if I get to spend it like this* he thought, looking at the hero in his arms.

The hero pulled back suddenly, keeping his hands on the villains shoulders as he examined the others face in shock.

"What...?" The villain asked in confusion. Suddenly the hero smirked, expression shifting from surprised to amused and almost joyful.

"You didn't mean to say that last part out loud, did you?"

The villain blinked in realization. Oh no.

The hero giggled in delight at the bright red hue the villains face was quickly becoming.

"Sorry..." the villain muttered as he began pulling back fully, only to be stopped by the hero.

"Hey! No-! Don't you dare!" The hero replied with a smile, pulling the villain back closer, "Don't be sorry! That was one of the sweetest things I've ever heard! It just caught me off guard, but I liked it."

The hero grinned, poking the villains chest in a playful and almost accusatory way, "who knew you could be such a softie?"

The villain sputtered, "all I said was I wouldn't mind spending the day like this!"

The hero laughed again.

"Well, you better get used to spending days like this, cuz you're stuck with me now, so," he replied with a smile, causing the villains eyes to snap over to meet his in shock.

"Alright, you find the extra blankets and pillows and pick a movie, and I'll run and go get snacks, how's that sound?" The hero asked, placing a hand on the villains forearm and tilting his head like a curious bird, a quirk the villain would always find adorable.

"Uh yeah," the villain swallowed, trying to get ahold of himself, "sure, that sounds good,"

"Okay, perfect," the hero replied, before suddenly without warning he bounced up on his toes to kiss the villains cheek, gentle and quick.

The villain in question froze, eyes wide as he went statue still. He was fairly certain he also stopped breathing momentarily.

He wasn't the only one who was bright red, though his was certainly worse then the hero who also had a light blush on his cheeks.

"Ok, I'll be right back!" He chirped, before turning and heading out the door.

The villain could only stay frozen where he stood, watching the hero leave with a small dazed smile and look on his face, hand coming up to touch his cheek in disbelief.

He might have to actually thank supervillain after this.

Part 3

Master taglist:

@llamaly  @why-am-i-on-this-website-anyway @literally-just-kirby  @larinzz @sharraus @asrasmysoulmate @kaiwewi @akawrites000 @sunflower1000  @aroacewitchyacademic @aquarelle-sirene  @lbelle0527 @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room  @freefallingup13  @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers  @homosexual-having-tea @friiday-thirteenth @chocomarsgalaxy  @ravenshadow17 @daydreamed-snippets @stankyt0es @jinx1365

[mrsnazariowrites]

Almost Perfect (Part 3): Intentions

Perfect Match

Pairing: Damien x MC

Rating: PG; Word Count: ~1128

This is also a submission for @wackydrabbles prompt of the week #120. “How long am I supposed to wait?” It will appear in bold.

For more content, see my Masterlist! And if you’d like to be tagged, let me know.

“We’re going to move in together! Tomorrow!”

The rest of the morning had flown by after that with Nadia gushing about how Steve had popped the question, the housewarming they were planning and how amazing it was going to be. By the time they'd left, Maya had ended up running late for work. Damien had a meeting with a client in that area, so he'd offered to drive her.

As they sat in silence, Damien watched Maya fiddle with his stereo, trying to find her favorite station. She was pressing wrong buttons, muttering in frustration - getting clumsy, which was always a sign she was nervous. When she eventually gave up, he reached over and tuned it himself. She gave him a small smile and sat back in her seat.

After brunch, It hadn't taken long for the initial excitement to pass and for the reality of everything to settle in. Maya had been as surprised as him when they’d learned Nadia’s news, but she’d been happy for them anyway. Only Damien had noticed the brief look of worry on her face and he didn’t blame her.

"Guess I spoke too soon back there," Damien mused.

"You might say that."

"So, what do you think?"

"About?"

Damien glanced at her and noticed she was staring absentmindedly out the window, once again lost in thought. He just rolled his eyes. "The Notebook. I'd like to know your thoughts before I watch it."

Maya startled for a second, then saw him watching her with a cheeky smirk. "Ha ha," she deadpanned. "You're hilarious."

"Well, you were spacing out again. Not as much fun as your usual."

"Aww, were you worried?" Her cheeks turned slightly pink as she smiled playfully. "Or is that just your way of saying I should talk more?"

"More? God, spare me the horror." He mock-recoiled in fear and Maya just laughed, to which he couldn't help but smile. "So . . . how long am I supposed to wait for you to bring up Nadia and Steve?" Damien gave her a knowing look and she sighed. However much she'd play it off, she knew by now that it was near impossible to hide anything from him.

"I . . . I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "I knew they were moving fast, but I wasn't really expecting this."

He nodded. "Yeah, same."

Both the Park cousins were some of the kindest, most friendly people he'd ever known; always the type to see good in others. With that came a propensity to trust people too easily- something Nadia did the most often.

However happy she seemed with Steve, there was no denying that they'd had been dating for less than a month, had gone way past third base, been in each other's apartments. And now they were living together - way too fast in his opinion. It didn’t help that they still didn't know much about Steve and Damien still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a good reason he was supposedly so perfect at everything.

"But she seems happy and Steve treats her right as far as I know. Hopefully, he's the one this time."

He was about to say something else but then noted her now-relaxed demeanor as she leaned back, listening to the radio's latest pop song, and decided against it. "For her sake, I hope so too."

They passed by Eros’ building on the way and he eyed it, frowning. This was another reason why he’d offered to drive today. What Maya had told him at brunch about Eros wasn’t sitting right with him. Damien could understand them learning basic information, but her train route? How was this relevant for a matchmaking service - if that was actually what they were? The fact that he hadn’t found any information on them wasn’t helping either.

Obviously that didn’t mean he was giving up on his research. If all this turned out to be a sheer coincidence, Maya and Nadia could call him paranoid however they liked, but he wasn’t willing to risk the alternative.

Soon, they reached her workplace. “Thanks for dropping me off, Damien. I’ll see you later!” She waved to him as she headed to the entrance.

Damien nodded, grinning at her. “Stay safe, doll.” Her face seemed to brighten at that last word and he swore he’d forgotten how to breathe. He watched her enter the clinic before finally driving off.

-------

"It seems the experiment has failed," The imposing woman eyed the client's response to the survey, which they had just logged into their database. "Have it sent back for repurposing. And include all relevant files for analysis."

The employee's face paled slightly. But fortunately, her boss didn't seem to notice. "Y-yes, Ms. Contreras."

"Please, call me Cecile."

"Right! Cecile. I'll send the information as soon as possible." She adjusted her glasses nervously as she closed the file and prepared to re-organize all the files she had on this case. Each of them contained various notes about Eros' latest candidate; his traits, appearance, and then his behavior - before, during and after the date - similarities with the client, differences and so much more.

Then she looked at Hayden's photo on the corner of the file - at his calm, friendly expression; blissfully unaware of the truth behind what he'd thought he'd signed up for - and let out a small sigh. No, Sloane! This isn't the time to have a conscience. You have a job to do!

Cecile seemed to take her change in tone as disappointment with the experiment's lack of progress and she placed a hand on her shoulder. "You did everything right on your end, Sloane." Her tone was smooth and professional, contrasting the reassuring smile plastered on her face. "Hopefully once we've combed through its information, we'll be able to figure out what went wrong."

"Yes, of course." Sloane shifted uncomfortably, avoiding any eye contact with Cecile. "It's just . . . well, the candidate appeared to perform very well."

"Not well enough, apparently." She scoffed derisively.

For some reason, that offended her. But Sloane knew better than to show it. "I guess." Instead, she continued to keep her eyes on her computer. "I- I just wish it had gone differently." While she respected the client's decision, this wasn't how she’d hoped this would end. Even if they hadn't formed a romantic connection per se, they'd gotten along nonetheless. So Hayden had still given them results. For Eros to dismiss him over this seemed . . . excessive.

But technically, Cecile wasn't wrong either. Knowing the company's policy, this was the only logical step going forward. There was no way to question it.

“Don’t lose heart. Eros will succeed. One way or another.”

-----------

@lizeboredom @darley1101 @sfb123 @queenbirbs @bebepac @choicesfanaf @kat-tia801 @park-nazario @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @rookiemartin @sirbeepsalot @missameliep @allthatglitters2020 @moonlightgem7 @otherworldlypresents @xantheaugustine @rainbowsinthestorm @puppy-rollins @jessiembruno @flowerpowell @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @mrswalkerwritesagain @kimmiedoo5 @princess-geek @maxattack-powell @burnsoslow @gardeningourmet @choicesficwriterscreations

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter seven - “the king is dead”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.7k

synopsis: shuri has awful news. the reader is terrified but bucky is strangely calm. the world is turned upside down, and not in a good way.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: this was so fun to write omg get ready it’s finally getting interesting!!! (as always, OC on my wattpad @ / typicaldaze)

Months had gone by since that day at the lake. Countless therapy sessions had been endured, several hard questions asked, many many issues worked through. Bucky suffered through a few more anxiety attacks along the way, but they never hindered his resolve, thanks to (Y/N). They had made progress, good, solid progress. Bucky was pleased; (Y/N) was thrilled. It's hard to see change when you're the one going through it. However, to the person guiding that change, every step forward is recognized. She was proud. She was genuinely proud of him. He wasn’t “fixed,” he still had struggles, but he was a lot better off then before.

There was something peculiar, though. Their relationship was strictly professional, (Y/N) knew that. However, she couldn't help but feel as though along the sidelines of their progress, they had grown to become friends. She knew that, clinically, this was not appropriate, but there were no corporate guidelines she was working under. She was helping him. So, what would it matter if after all this was over, they were friends? What would it matter if his therapist also operated as his friend? Hell, she didn't even have an official therapist position here! Sharon just sent her to help. (Y/N) had decided she didn't care about the boundaries being crossed. Nothing ever went wrong with someone gaining a friend. It's fine.

Regardless, the two of them had thoroughly addressed the anxiety and the PTSD, and he now officially had both diagnoses. He understood himself and his brain so much better, and with (Y/N)'s help, he not only acknowledged his disorders, but accepted them. She taught him to not see them as the enemy, not something that was wrong with him. They were just a part of him, same as his brown hair or blue eyes.

Bucky was so much more open now. He was less on edge and more comfortable, especially around her. In all honesty, he was usually his most comfortable with her. He had coping skills and everything!

This was all grand and good, but (Y/N) hoped with everything in her that it wouldn't be ruined by the present disaster.

-

"I thought he was automatically supposed to be king?" (Y/N) asked, confused.

She was at her weekly meeting with Shuri for Bucky's treatment plan, and the young genius had just told her she couldn't make it next week due to T'Challa's coronation.

"He is," Shuri started, "but it's Wakandan tradition to open the position up to a dual. So, his rule isn't set in stone."

"Oh... What if someone... challenges him?"

"Then they will fight! However, I have no worries. T'Challa is a great warrior, and though I doubt anyone would challenge him, he would win if they did."

(Y/N) admired the faith Shuri had in her brother. She could tell their bond was strong.

"Couldn't you technically challenge him?"

Shuri revealed a kind of devilish smirk that only a sibling can muster. "Oh, I have thought about it. But I am much more useful in my lab, and T'Challa wouldn't know what to do with himself if he wasn't in charge."

(Y/N) looked back on the memory anxiously as she stared in horror at the look on Shuri's face. A wicked mix of fear, grief, and stress drained all the color from the princess' normally dark, beautiful skin. Shuri had always radiated confidence and composure; seeing this change worried (Y/N) deeply.

"The King is dead."

Her face became void of any expression and all she could process was fear. She thought she gasped but she couldn't remember breathing out again. Her brain was frozen. (Y/N) was in a foreign country that just lost its monarch. She was alone, and all the people she was relying on to protect her just had their kingdom invaded and taken over by someone with the word kill as part of their nickname. She was almost certain that this would be her end.

"Dr. (Y/L/N)?" Shuri said unsteadily. "Did you hear me?"

"Y-Yes I... What are we going to do?" her voice was weak and small. Pathetic and afraid.

Then, thoughts of Bucky crossed her mind. What would happen to him? He could fight, she supposed, but he doesn't have any weapons or gear and he'd be against an entire regime. What if they killed him? What if they tortured him? Different scenarios quickly flashed through her brain, but she could only one concrete thought.

I have to find him.

"My family and I have a plan, but we can't take you with us."

Any remaining semblance of hope dissipated from (Y/N)'s body, and she swore she could feel her veins quiver with apprehension.

"What?"

Her voice felt far away.

"It is not ideal, and I'd never leave you unless I had to. But Agent Everett Ross is here. It's a long story, but as you know, he can't find out about Sergeant Barnes. He can't know that either of you are here. If we take you with us, it could compromise everything we've been working for," the nervous princess explained.

"So... what of me and Bucky?"

"Again, it's a long story, but there's a... sort of fallout shelter - I guess you could call it - that was built years and years ago when the first tribes of Wakanda were constantly at war with one another. I will give you supplies and directions, and you two must go there and remain hidden until this is all over."

Fantastic. (Y/N) would get to play Cold War nuclear fallout in Wakanda.

"How will we know?"

Shuri gave her a somber look. A look of uncertainty and immense guilt.

"I wish I could apologize enough, my partner, but I do not know. I promise I will try to contact you as soon as I get any information, but for now we must hurry. We do not have much time."

With that, Shuri took (Y/N)'s arm and quickly led her her outside. It was late afternoon and the air was beginning to cool. They ran, locked together, until they met the Queen under a large tree among the outskirts of a nearby forest. The woman looked just as shaken up as Shuri.

(Y/N) could see bags of different shapes and sizes at the base of the tree. She could only hope whatever was in there was sufficient for survival.

Shuri immediately embraced her mother, but the moment was short lived as she then bent down to gather the bags.

The Queen placed her hands gently on the sides of the psychologist’s face. "I am so sorry, child. This does not involve you in the slightest yet you are swept up in the middle of it."

Shuri handed her mother the bags and they both geared (Y/N) up with all her supplies. It was heavy. Really heavy. She realized she was carrying supplies for two. Then, there was panic.

"What about Bucky?"

"Barnes doesn't know about any of this yet. I thought it best he heard it from you," Shuri expained, "and we cannot afford anymore delays. Us or you. You must go now, tell Barnes what is happening and go. I wish I could be more help, but we simply don't have the time."

(Y/N) nodded, trying to process all the chaos. She was internalizing every bit of it. As a result, she was once again, frozen.

"Dr. (Y/L/N)!" Shrui exclaimed.

Her head shot up, snapped out of it.

"Go! You must go!"

And with that, (Y/N) took off. She had been in Wakanda long enough to know her way around the castle's surrounding land. Her speed didn't last very long as she was carrying for two, but she tried all she could to keep going as quickly as possible.

Eventually she found herself outside of Bucky's living quarters. She didn't know what to do, so she knocked.

An array of different emotions went through Bucky's face. At first he looked pleased, but then he saw the horror etched into (Y/N)'s features, and the bags she was carrying. He could tell something was wrong.

"What happened?" he asked, surprisingly calm, while immediately taking some of the bags from (Y/N). He still only had one arm but that really didn't seem to matter to him.

She was out of breath, face flushed and eyes wide.

"The King is dead," she said breathlessly. "Someone... someone killed him a-and took over."

Bucky didn't look as scared as (Y/N) felt. In fact, he looked... totally fine?  She was so out of it she wanted to curl up in a hole and allow natural death. How was the anxious man she was accustomed to so at ease? The world was flipped upside down and (Y/N) had no control. She wished there was a word stronger than fear because she couldn't even describe what she was feeling.

"Okay," Bucky said, gently taking another bag, leaving her with only one to carry, "What did Shuri say? What do we have to do?"

She shook her head, trying to regain her breath and her composure. "There's um - there's a fallout shelter thing we have to go to. Here."

She handed  him a crumpled up piece of paper that Shuri gave her. A map with directions. (Y/N) knew he would've been better at locating it than she could at that moment.

"Alright," more of the calm voice filled her ears. "Anything else?"

"There are more details, but - we don't have time," she sighed, restlessly. Her voice began to shake ever so slightly. "Bucky, I'm so sorry. We have to go now. I promise I'll tell you everything."

"Okay," he said again. He bent down slightly, looking her directly in the eyes. " (Y/N), we're fine, okay? We're good, and we're gonna be fine. I will get us there. Are you ready?"

She nodded, steeling herself.

Bucky looked at the map, then glanced up in the direction of the shelter. He took (Y/N)’s forearm firmly. She gave him a look, confirming she was ready. And off they went.

[adamdrivewhore]

Disclaimer: acab

FLIP ZIMMERMAN X READER SMUT

tags/ Cw: smut duh, cheating, slight daddy kink, unprotected sex, dick riding, rough sex, demanding flip.

At your service

     It was a cold November night, the last remaining leaves twirling about in the air outside of your window. You shudder, flicking the blinds fully shut. You were just spooking yourself out. After all, this was your first night alone in the new house. Your long time Fiancé was currently away for work, and while you had spent plenty of nights alone at your old apartment, Colorado Springs was a very new area for you.

You took to the kitchen, grabbing a can of cola, figuring you'd just watch some television to pass the time before bed. Mostly to fill the silence you dreaded.

You heard a clanking noise against the window you had just been looking out of.

  "It's just a branch." You huff. Feeling a hot wave of doubt beam your forehead.

"Please just be a branch." You repeat, covering your body with a throw blanket.

The same clanking noise repeated itself, followed by the sound of what was seemingly footsteps outside.

"Oh, absolutely the fuck not." You cried.

   You darted for the telephone, dialling the non-emergency number.

The line rang about 2 times before you received a response.

  "Colorado Springs PD, Officer Zimmerman speaking."  Burley, a deep voice greeted you.

"Uh, Hey I'm (y/n). I'm alone in my home right now, and I've been hearing some weird activity. You know, coming from the outside of my home." You awkwardly say, gritting your teeth together.

  "Are you in immediate danger? Should I be contacting 911?" The unamused voice responded to you. You looked at the clock, it read 10:47 pm. This man was probably going to be off of work soon, and you were pestering him with your anxiety. Truthfully, your Fiancé should've been the one you were calling to feel safer.

   "Well, not Immediate, but I'd feel much safer if someone came and inspected my property." You whined into the phone.

"Alright, Ma'am. Can I grab a name and address?"

You felt a tiny sense of ease, "(y/n) (y/l/n). Sixteen Pine grove Lane."  You informed the officer and he told you he'd be by shortly.

You couldn't help but wait, head ducked under a blanket, only your eyes peering from the top to the doorway. "C'mon," You sighed.

A sudden beam of blue and red lights shone into your living room, dancing off of the shadows of the trees outside.

"Finally."

A few moments had passed, you could tell the officer had been walking around your property with his flashlight. You were still nervous nonetheless, patiently waiting for him to tell you everything was OK.

*BANG*

A loud thud came from the front door, resulting in a string of curses to leave your mouth.

"So sorry! I missed a step." A muffled voice announced, it was Officer Zimmerman.

You took a deep breath, easing your nerves once again. You opened the door to greet him.

"Fuck. You scared the shit out of me, Officer."

There stood a tall, dark-haired scruffy-looking man in flannel. Gun holster fastened around his shoulders. He was extremely good looking.

"I'm sorry, I guess the best way to calm someone down isn't to scare them even more," He chuckled, staring down at you, in nothing but a pair of pyjama shorts and a thin blouse, fabric dainty enough to outline your nipples just enough.

"And please, Call me Flip." He extended his arm out to shake hands.

You declined his offer and invited him in, instead.

"I'm (y/n), but you knew that. Would you like some tea, Flip?" You generously offer.

Flip wasted no time in obliging, he was already checking out the decor of your home.

"So there were no monsters outside, I take it?" You jokingly ask, partially joking***

"None that I could see, Sweetheart." Flip assured you, running a hand through his hair.

"Can I smoke in here?" He asks, placing his cigarette between his perfectly plush and pink lips. You nod, stirring the tea. "Sugar?" You motion towards the cup.

Flip opened the torch lighter, igniting his smoke. "Have any honey, Honey?" He smiled.

"Very funny, I'm engaged, though. And yes, I do." Though his words were trivial, you still couldn't help but be annoyed by it. He was sickeningly charming.

Flip took an inhale off his cigarette, pursing his lips over the paper.

'Oh to be that cigarette' you thought. Gazing at Flip, you had forgotten how much you were steeping his teabag.

"Hey, Miss, I don't mean to be picky, but the tea will be far too strong for me if you don't quit while you're ahead." Flip laughed, a hoarse chuckle coming out as he blew out his smoke.

You snapped out of your naughty thoughts with Flips' harsh reminder. As well as the painstaking fact that you were practically drooling over this stranger, while your Fiancé was off doing his Job.

"Oh, sorry." You coyly spoke.

"Is there anything bothering you, Miss?" Flip stepped closer, he ashed his cigarette into the tray you kept on your kitchen island.

'Fuck, he must've caught on to the fact I was thinking about him' You thought, cheeks reddened.

"Maybe I should get going?" He added.

"Oh, sure, maybe that's a good idea." You gulped.

Flip started towards your door, you following suit behind him.

"Glad I could be of service to you tonight, Ma'am." He said.

"Wait!"

You blurted, knowing you'd have to make a pretty damn good excuse as to why this stranger, who was a police officer mind you, couldn't leave your home quite yet.

He approached you once again. "Maybe you'd feel safer if I spent the night?" A smile peeked through the corner of his lip. His facial hair complimenting it so well.

"I think that may help, just a little." You pouted, seeing his large frame step even closer.

"So do I, Sweetheart." His gaze was locked on yours, he smelled of stale smoke and a burley cologne, in what felt like a poor attempt at covering the smoke smell.

Before you could speak again, his lips were softly greeting yours.

You decided to kiss him back, forgetting the pep talk you had given yourself moments ago in the kitchen. "Been wanting to do that since I first walked in, Sweetheart." He cooed, voice soft and slow like the honey he asked for.

You felt a throbbing sensation in your sex at his words, wishing for more.

"Oh, Flip." You whispered, pulling him in closer, this stranger, was somehow the most comforting thing you held in awhile.

He began kissing you once again, trailing sloppy love bites down your neck, moving the thin fabric of your blouse to gain access to your shoulder. "You're gorgeous." He spoke.

You pined at the flannel he was wearing, hoping to see what was under it. At this point, there was no stopping now. His jeans crafted to his body perfectly, accentuating his budge. You let out a soft moan as you felt his arm snake up your shirt, hands caressing your breasts ever so softly. "Flip, please."

"Please what, sweetheart?" He teased, using his other hand to play with the waistband of your shorts. You shivered at his actions.

"Please, Touch me." You were breathy, needy as ever.

Flip chuckled, picking you up and taking your body over to your couch. "Hmm." He smiled, pulling your shorts down, inspecting your now exposed cunt. "No panties." He took his lip between his teeth, whilst unbuttoning his flannel.

His body was fit, shoulders broad. A trail of black hair from his navel to his belt. You looked at him delectably.

Flip placed a long finger on your wet slit, pooling the juices around with his fingers before spreading your lips. "Aching for me, are ya, Sweetheart?" He had this smug look on your face. You clenched. Flip's thumb began massaging your clit, his middle finger toying with your entrance. You were spasming under him, igniting at his touch. He dipped two large fingers in your hole, stretching it as he saw fit. You shot your head back, "Fuckk, mhmm, Flip!"

"You won't be cummimg on my fingers tonight, baby." He growled in your ear, ripping his fingers out of you. You were a moaning mess at the loss of his contact.

You drenched him. "Goodness. So fuckin' filthy." He groaned, sucking you off of his own fingers. "You taste exquisite."

Flip unbuckled his belt, throwing his pants around his ankles. His erection springing up. You were intimidated by his size. You were intimidated by everything, honestly.

"Get on me," He ordered, sitting down on the couch.

You examined him in this position, how gorgeous he was, all of that waiting for you.

You propped yourself on his lap, glazing your soaking cunt over his exposed cock. This had Flip weak, his large hands digging into the flesh of your ass.

"Fuck, just let me pound you, Sweetheart."

You were drooling, obeying him you positioned him at your entrance. His palms guiding you onto him. "Mmmhmmm oh, fuck," Your eyes rolled back as you felt him sliding in.

He allowed for a moment of adjustment before gripping you mean, thrusts painful and plenty. You were practically gushing for him. Attempting to bounce on him, feeling his base as your pussy touched him. "That's it, baby." He coached, speeding up.

"Ride Daddy's cock, Sweets." He groaned.

You gasped, hands darting to your nipples, stimulating each to your liking.

"So desperate to Cum." He grabbed your wrists, forcing them away from your tits.

"I want you to, but from my cock alone." He grinned.

'Easier said than done.' You thought. No man had ever been able to achieve this with you.

Flip wasn't every other man though, not even your fiancé was able to get you this excited. You were putty in his hands.

"What did I say?" He asks, gripping your hips, holding you down on his cock.

"T-to c-cum from only your c-cock." You were fighting back your orgasm, unwilling to give him that satisfaction so quickly.

Flip growled, pounding into your mercilessly. "Cum for me, sweetheart." He guided, slamming with each thrust.

You were unable to hold it back any longer, moaning over him. Feeling your high in your stomach.

"It's okay to let yourself go, love." He whispered.

You clenched around him, walls gushing. "Flip, uh, I'm cumming, fuckk, oh god." Your speech slurred, releasing around him.

"Good girl."  He kissed your forehead, letting you come down before he gave his last few thrusts. "Can I c-" "Please" you interrupt him.

Flip groans, squeezing your thighs tightly, cursing loudly as he filled you. The twitching of his cock and the pressure of his load was enough to send you over the edge once more.

"Ugh, Oh, fuckin' Christ." Flip uttered, pulling his cum soaked Dick out of you.

You both collapsed on one another, indulging in the moments after. "Glad to be of your service, tonight, Ma'am." He joked, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

_______________________________________________________________________

[ruffsraven-writes]

Through the Odds | F.W. (The Hunger Games AU)

Based upon: The Harry Potter and The Hunger Games series

Pairing: Fred Weasley x OC (Autumn Rivers)

Era: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

POV: 1st person

WC: 1.6k

CHAPTER 2

“Hey, hey!” I snapped my fingers between his eyes. That's the only thing that I could do to keep him from plunging into a thought of nothingness.

“Right. Yeah. I'm sorry. Where were we?” he says, a trace of his previous screaming wounded his normal voice.

“About skinning the rabbit,” I say. “You could starve in hunger in no time. This place could be desolate to the untrained.”

It took seconds before his hand enclosed the knife and grasped the rabbit between his hands. I saw the wince in his eyes. Wherever he came from, the people there are not starving enough to kill creatures as much as rabbits.

I set up the snares, half-doubting if I could leave that boy alone in the camp without being killed. I decided he could.

I didn't even know his name. Maybe I was too cruel a while ago that I didn't handle his shock properly. His agonized scream and the way he was still holding that stick of his like it could save his life. 

Wisps of smoke met me as I journeyed back to our camp. Perfectly-skinned rabbits are laid above the fire, their juices making the coals hiss.

I sprinted back to the camp and stomped my boots on the coal, digging it on my heels as it died down the soil. I placed the cooked—almost burned—food aside and turned to him.

“Best way to get killed. If you want to, don't count me in.”

He realized what I'm talking about and began to apologize. He might be ruminating now how it would be different if I'm not the one who found him. Not surly, harsh, or indifferent.

“This arena is lethal, I'm just reminding you.”

“I know.”

This icy conversation is turning way more awkward on a silent night. I should remember that he came out of nowhere. No knowledge of Panem or the Games. He's not to be blamed for unconsciously putting a snare against him—or us, if he could endure me as an ally.

Why am I keeping him alive anyway? He's now playing as a fellow tribute. An enemy. Something to weed out of my path.

“I'll get you water.”

I left and made a mental note to ask his name when I came back. 

“Fred, I'll keep watch first. Here, take the sleeping bag and climb.” I tell him.

The sky was a deep black that signifies an evening of uncertainties. What all I had in mind is getting through with this until morning.

Fred settled on the branch lower where I'll keep watch, considering that his stature won't allow him on those fragile branches.

I positioned myself on a tree branch, watchful as my vision struggled to the dim.

Silence engulfed me like everything around me was lifeless, not even the rustle of leaves. So I strike up a conversation.

“I'm still clueless how possibly you end up here.”

He gave a hollow chuckle. “Neither do I. It's like falling in a dangerous portal of some sort. I would've asked you to shake me awake but everything's real enough to make me doubt.”

He paused for a moment, “Will I survive this?”

Words escaped me. I couldn't just tell him that he won't and I might be planning to get rid of him.

I pretend to be sleepy and yawn. “Just stay alive.”

“Want me to keep watch?” he asks. “I mean, I don't particularly know who to watch for but I'll inform you if something's off.”

“No,” I say. “I want you to keep talking. Just be quieter.”

He did. And I discovered that Panem was nothing like where he came from. At first, I thought we're nothing alike, not until he mentioned his brother. We exchanged conversations in hushed tones.

“I already miss home. It's not much of a thrill pranking people around but I'd like to tell them I've been here and seen worse.”

He tried to laugh or add humor in his voice. If a good laugh can help him cope up, who am I to ruin it?

“Speaking of worse,” I say, forcing a facetious tone. A silver parachute descended from where I sat and I grabbed it, knowing it came from the sponsors. Inside is a small can filled with ointment for burns and a letter from Haymitch. “Worse time to deliver this don't you think?”

Fred smiles and says, “You can use this to apply that.” He tapped that useless eyeglasses perched on his nose.

Taking my silence as confusion, he adds, “It lets you see in darkness. I've seen this in joke shops before. 'M glad this isn't a sham.”

“Why didn't you tell me earlier?” I laughed before snatching it from him. He's right. I can see perfectly like it's daylight.

“Dunno. I guess I'm scared because you could've eaten me alive earlier.”

“Sorry,” I say. “For how I acted. It's awful.”

“Don't mind it. I'm used to being scolded.”

We took turns using the night glasses and he continued talking while I dab generous amount of ointment across my burns. I let the coolness of night help the ointment seep through my skin. The ointment worked effectively that I couldn't help but think what convincing Haymitch did to give me this.

“I could've helped you heal those in a minute if I knew the right spell.”

Yes, magic spells. To levitate, yes. To conjure stuff, yes. To attack, very befitting. But to get us out of the arena? No. He told me he tried to apparate but the arena seems to condemn his magic.

He's still fiddling the wand between his fingers when I say, “Do you know how to perform a killing spell?”

“W-What?” His voice apprise horror like I've said something that could harm him.

The wand faltered from his hand and I found myself grasping for it in thin air with him. Too desperate. That wand could mean more than anything. 

“I'll get it,” he says.

“No, let me do it. ”

He's still lacking stealth and strategy. The moment his feet touch the ground, every creature would stir.

I secure my foothold on the branch where he's sitting on, prepared for a jump until his huge hands locked around my ankles.

“Autumn, stop!” he hisses and put a finger over his lips. My instinct told me to twist away from him but the loud scream resonating below us thwarts my impulsive actions.

More screams. Fred pulled me to his level. Arms circled around me as if he knew I'd jump at any moment.

I first saw the dying ember near the bushes before the screaming figure right beside it. A tribute.

One of the Careers, Glimmer, shot her in the throat. Her screaming ceased and the canon fired.

As if from a trance, I jolt involuntarily. Fred's body tensed, his hands around me felt rigid and mechanic. With his eyes wide, tiny blinks interrupting, shock and fear overlapped. The dying tribute's bloody corpse mirrored in his eyes and having the night glasses allow me to see deeper in the silent agony he must be experiencing right now. Stable reasoning stalled my emotions before I could throw my hands around his neck and hold him there and never let go. He has my brother's eyes.

A beautiful shade of brown, the color of warm earth, and the pigment of woods. It reminds me of home. And I might've been underestimated how clear this stupid glasses can be.

“Pathetic. Her stupid voice's still ringing on my ears,” Glimmer says as the hovercraft lifted the corpse. The others start restoring the fire she left and make a camp below us. Fred's fingers gave a slight tremble against my shoulder.

“Fred, come on, we have to go,” I say, squeezing his cold hands to life. “Fred!”

He didn't protest and listen to the plan I fabricated when the tribute got killed in front of our eyes.

Wait till they're asleep. Retreat noiselessly. The other has to distract, the other to kill.

From the beginning, I know it's ridiculous. Fred doesn't know well enough to distract them nor he could kill them without being reluctant.

Forget the plan. Fred escapes, and I'll kill. If I'd be dead by morning, I want him to stay alive until some shred of hope materialized and he could go back to his brother.

He has to go. He doesn't belong here. Not in this murderous place.

“Your spear was right there.” He points down the slender thing leaning by the tree and adds, “Do you want me to get their weapons?”

“No,” I say. “Wouldn't let you risk it. Just descend quietly. Don't let them notice you. Go to the woods and conceal yourself. Whatever happens, don't let them see you. Whatever happens. Alright?”

“Yes.” He wraps the jacket around himself and says, “You'll follow suit, won't you? I'll wait for you, Autumn.”

“Of course.”

Faint sunlight edges around the arena and sleep is almost impossible. The Careers hadn't seen us and now's the chance to perform the plan. Fred braces himself in each tree trunk, gripping hard and avoiding any sort of noise. In no time, he's on the ground, finally found his wand, and scurrying away with a last glimpse of me as if to say goodbye.

I ascend higher till a whistling perked my ears. My gazed roam around, did I rouse the Careers? No, they're still dead asleep. 

Then I saw her between the branches, body resting there with stealth as if the trees are her home and will always catch her whenever she hops. 

Rue.

She points above my head, and the buzzing starts, one of the tracker jackers flies around the nest, crawls on the entrance and disappears. I signal Rue through a sawing motion. She nods and hops from tree to tree, fleeing.

Fred and Rue are safe.

I grabbed the knife Clove used in an attempt to attack me and began sawing. 

***

Masterlist

[orionsangel86]

I was the one with the ask. I want to apologize. I didn't wanna come across as rude. I love your blog. It was an honest question, since I haven't seen any spoilers which indicate that Cas and Dean are gonna make up. Also I have only seen spoilers where they said that the conflicts goes on after ep 9. Last thing was that Jensen didn't mention Cas as a reason for Dean being sad. But I saw ppl saying that Dean is gonna be shedding tears over Cas. I'd like to know if there's any reference material.

Okay so the first thing I need to stress here as in all cases is this: PR is not showrunning. I know I know, we say it all the time. You can’t really rely on small soundbites from the actors taken from interviews and put into clickbait articles usually to satisfy a specific writers agenda depending on the article they are writing. 

The second thing to remember: People are going to hype up and sensationalise things on social media to gain attention, likes, notes, etc. You cannot rely on this information either.

What we actually know:

Misha said this: “Cas will return to the bunker and the boys. He’ll be sort of driven back into collaborating with them because we’re still confronting the big bad, which is God. But that tension between Cas and Dean will play out for some time, and we won’t really have a resolution to that. I think the audience, and frankly Cas, will finally understand what it is that’s upsetting Dean so much in episode 9. So we’re a ways off from that arc feeling like it’s resolved.”

This quote is from this article.

Then at DCCon the other weekend, the last question asked by Mel aka @/mishasdiary on Twitter, was basically to know if Dean and Cas patch things up and Jensen answered this:

“I will say this, there is an answer to your question in the show. It will be in episode 9 which we just finished. Let’s just say that Dean has a moment by himself, where he prays to Cas. That is a bit of a confession on why he feels the way he feels and why he treated Cas the way he treated him.”

You can see the answer here at about 58 minutes in (last question).

In your ask you sent me yesterday, you also referred to another article (link here) written with soundbites from Jensen. I believe you were referring to this:

"I think the state of his brother always worries Dean. That's who he fights for," Jensen Ackles told TV Guide. "When that support, that base strength in his life starts to waver and [he] starts to second guess himself, that will certainly affect Dean in a way of, 'I can't let him go down this road' or 'I need to figure out a way to help him out.' So it'll be a struggle, not against each other, but for each other. Sam is struggling to find a purpose and Dean is struggling to help Sam find purpose."

But this is standard talk from Jensen and it is also correct so I don’t see why anyone would read this and feel threatened about Dean’s relationship with Cas? Come on now, we aren’t like Bronly’s threatened by Cas’s mere presence. This is very true what Jensen is saying because the brothers are toxically codependent. But there is a true bond between them which has been poisoned over time. Yes Dean will be worried about Sam because Dean is always worried about Sam, but Sam is not part of the Dean and Cas break up narrative.

Jensen also had this to say which I thought was interesting:

[about Sam hypothetically dying] "That would have to be a bridge crossed when he came to it," Ackles said. "Right now, and for a long time, Sam's been the reason that Dean keeps fighting. If you take that away from him, then what does he have? Is there a will to keep going? I don't know how that would shape up from Dean's perspective. Maybe he finds something to fight for or maybe he finds somebody to fight with. Maybe he calls it quits."

So this is Jensen contemplating what life would be like for Dean without Sam, and he’s hardly saying “well if Sam died Dean would also want to die” because Jensen most likely knows that isn’t the case anymore. Bobo has been picking apart that particular arc ever since he wrote Red Meat. 

So anyway, brushing off Jensen’s interview aside as nothing even remotely alarming or concerning for DeanCas fans (because we do NOT see Sam as a threat to our ship), lets talk about the prayer. We got Jensen’s spoiler first, and given this was fresh in Jensen’s mind, only shortly after he filmed it, I reckon we can safely assume that what he has told us is at least somewhat accurate (though we cannot of course account for how this may be cut in the editing room).

Episode 9 is Bobo’s episode. Bobo is basically holding the mantle for the DeanCas emotional arc this season (and last season) so I fully expect this to be the next big turning point in Dean and Cas’s relationship. Jensen has confirmed that when Dean is alone, he prays to Cas.

This is already setting a super intimate scene. Dean rarely prays as it is. We haven’t seen him pray to Cas since season 9. The fact that he is alone and not with Sam also confirms the level of intimacy. We can assume that Dean sought privacy for this prayer.

Now, Jensen goes on to say that Dean will explain how he feels and why he treated Cas how he did. This is already sounding like a proper explanation and potentially an apology. We will learn the mystery of why Dean (in Misha’s words) has been acting like such a prick. I never had any doubt that they would eventually explain it. I trust Bobo has planned this all out and knows what he is doing. He likes exploring Dean’s emotional responses - anger comes from fear and worry. Dean is terrified. That is usually why he acts out. Bobo has previously confirmed this and it was even stated in the show itself in Bobo’s episode 14x09 via Kaia. I think that Dean’s treatment of Cas is based on fear. This is why we are so excited (when I say “we” here, I mean me and the general group of wonderful people I scream with daily about this dumb show aka a bunch of meta writers or at least meta literate people). So Jensen has confirmed that we will get a proper explanation of WHY he treated Cas and also HIS FEELINGS on the matter. 

The MOST interesting part of Jensen’s spoiler, is that he called the whole thing a CONFESSION. Dude. The last time Dean confessed to anything was in a church and it almost gave me a heart attack. Since that scene was the closest this show has ever come so far to Dean actually coming out of the fucking closet.

So not only is this an intimate prayer to Cas, an explanation of his bad treatment of Cas and an admittance of his feelings over the whole thing, its also a confession. 

Interesting choice of words Jensen. Confession to what exactly? Because this is starting to feel suspiciously like a very profound moment between our two boys. It’s clearly an important scene. 

Then Misha on top of this, has confirmed that Cas hears the prayer. Which yay for starters, and also think about how he explained the situation:

“But that tension between Cas and Dean will play out for some time, and we won’t really have a resolution to that. I think the audience, and frankly Cas, will finally understand what it is that’s upsetting Dean so much in episode 9. So we’re a ways off from that arc feeling like it’s resolved.”

You have to read this entire paragraph as one: 

The tension will play out for sometime but Cas and the audience will understand what the deal is in episode 9. So we are a way off from that arcs resolution.

When Misha was talking about the resolution being way off, he was talking about the time between now and episode 9. He confirms that it is at least somewhat resolved in episode 9. That’s what I interpret as being implied here anyway. 

This plus Jensen’s entire answer was to the question “when will Dean and Cas patch things up?” Jensen answered “episode 9″.

Like??? How are people misunderstanding this and blowing it so far out of proportion? Bitter people are so desperate to cling to their negativity that they are totally misinterpreting the information they are being given. It’s extremely frustrating.

Anyway, the one other gripe you had was about Dean’s prayer being about Sam or because he is worried about Sam. Okay except that has come out of absolutely nowhere other than bitters who are actually threatened by Sam which I find utterly ridiculous. So what if the prayer is triggered by Sam? Maybe Sam is in a perilous situation and Dean doesn’t know what to do so he prays. I mean, is that really so bad? Dean usually IS motivated by Sam, so it’s not exactly a huge deal. The main thing to focus on here is that the prayer will be about Dean and Cas and THEIR issues. It will resolve THAT ARC. The arc that doesn’t involve Sam. 

Honestly, I don’t think that Dean’s prayer will be triggered by Sam though. Because Sam has never been part of this particular arc that Bobo has been writing. I mean maybe its possible that the whole thing could be triggered by Sam yelling at Dean to sort out his shit with Cas because they are stronger together and Sam is fed up of being stuck in the middle in which case GREAT because I would LOVE to see more exasperated Sam telling his brother to talk to his estranged husband. 12x10 is one of my all time favourite episodes BECAUSE OF SAM.

But again, I don’t think that an intimate private prayer confession from Dean to Cas will have anything to do with Sam because quite frankly, I can’t see how to fit him in a way that makes sense outside of my own 12x10 repeat above. 

So please, stop panicking over things we don’t know. Stop making negative assumptions. Focus on the good stuff and enjoy what the show is giving us right now. I’m still riding the DeanCas break up scene high because that shit was romantic AF and no one can tell me otherwise. I’m still amazed that in this shows final season Dean and Cas’s emotional arc is getting pushed into the A plot. In all the years of watching this show this has only ever been the case once before and that was in 13x01-13x06. This is a huge deal. Enjoy it and stop letting negative Nancy’s drag you down.

[punkscowardschampions]

Jac & Amelia

Jac: So, you got your room 🙌 What other wins did freshers bring you? 😄 Amelia: Yeah, thank god Amelia: it's been full on enough without adding travel sickness Jac: Never going to fly when class starts either Jac: it's just slightly more inventive than coming down with the 'flu' every Monday morning, but not enough Amelia: bit intense to start crashing on my new friends floors too, I don't want to be THAT gay Jac: 😂 Jac: I doubt they'd mind Jac: but having a base that isn't totally covered in crochet decor is a plus Amelia: now that freshers is over and they're going to 🤞 they never see those hook ups again maybe Amelia: still, not the first impression I'm trying to make Jac: Oh God, tell me about it Jac: I am not trying to have people I've got to avoid for the next 7 odd years Jac: not trying to make it like home like that Amelia: very relatable Amelia: even though I have no need to count that high Jac: Is your course 3? or 4? Amelia: depends if I want to go to Canada, Denmark, Italy, Poland, Sweden, USA or the UK for a year Jac: Oh wow Jac: 🦪 Amelia: that emoji is the gayest Amelia: so yeah probably Jac: Very O'Keefe of you Jac: can't give up the 🎨 quite yet? Amelia: 😂 Jac: I've met THE perfect girl for you, oh my GOD Amelia: because I'm going to travel to Edinburgh for 🦪 after dodging a 3 hour commute Jac: She's American, you could convince her Cork has a lot to offer beside 🦪 Jac: but actually, she is UNBEARABLE, and I'm trying very hard to be nice and give everyone a chance rn Jac: she does Art History, despite the fact she seems to know less about art than I do Jac: doesn't stop her 🔊 Amelia: 💔 you put your mean girl years behind you too soon, I'm SO proud though Amelia: and I'm sure Savannah appreciates it just as much Jac: 😏 I can feel the sincerity Jac: I know though, talk about completely crazy Amelia: if you want sincerity I can totally believe she'd follow you there as if nothing happened Amelia: are you okay? Jac: I think the prestige probably beat the off-chance I'd also be there but I appreciate the belief Jac: Yeah, actually, I am Jac: it went well, better than I could've or would've imagined before Amelia: alright, that's a relief Amelia: not that it's been playing on my mind or anything since the ✨ livened up my feed Jac: I would've got in touch sooner Jac: It did cross my mind, that you'd see Jac: I also didn't wanna encroach on your freshers' experience at all, that idea won out Jac: It must've been a shock for you and all Amelia: I get it, because likewise obviously Amelia: plus you seemed like you were coping, and it's not the same as before, you have people to go to now if you aren't so Amelia: I don't know, it seemed too dramatic to come at you all !!!!!! Amelia: which is why I didn't Jac: I wouldn't have bitten your head off Jac: but I see and appreciate that logic Jac: not to mention previous experience would say I actually would so Jac: She's changed a lot too, in those 2 years Amelia: good Jac: Yeah, turns out she had a pretty rough time of it too Jac: which, obviously, but I wasn't really in a space to think too much about that back then Amelia: was likely to be more 🥀 than 🌹 living with her dad, and everything that happened with her mum Amelia: I'm not surprised even if I couldn't be very sympathetic then Jac: I can't believe I was zoned out Jac: I didn't even know about her mum Amelia: you had loads of your own shit going on, it'd be more unbelievable if you were tuned into hers Amelia: I didn't know how bad it was, or didn't want to hear it, whichever Jac: Jess made it sound like the world and his wife knew Jac: I feel awful Jac: but her mum is doing better now, and they're trying to mend their relationship, so, that's positive Amelia: it always feels like that in my 🏠 but I would've told you if I'd realised Jac: It isn't your fault remotely Jac: like you said, sympathy about it wasn't at the forefront of your mind Jac: and you can't be blamed there Amelia: I'm genuinely glad things are getting better, the last thing she needs is to feel like shit for leaving her mum again if they aren't Jac: I know you are, you aren't a monster Jac: even if you and Savannah had your differences, and the obvious situation from there 'til now Amelia: that's enough sincerity though, the last thing I need is Savannah Moore trying to be my friend again Amelia: you can keep her Jac: 😂 Alright Jac: about that though Jac: things have changed, between us too Amelia: okay Amelia: what does that mean? Jac: Well, I told her, this time Jac: that I'm not straight Jac: and neither is she Amelia: she really has fucking changed Jac: She hasn't also come out, there's no label on it or anything Jac: but she likes me back Jac: you deserve to know, and would, regardless of where we were in our relationship Jac: I'm sorry if it's not what you want to hear though Amelia: thanks, I guess Amelia: for not waiting for the 💍 announcement Jac: Things haven't moved quite that fast Jac: although, yeah Jac: I know Amelia: It's still Savannah, I doubt she's had a TOTAL personality transplant Amelia: you probably wouldn't like her if she had Amelia: so I'll keep an eye out for that post and put my congrats on it Jac: No, she's still her Jac: and I doubt her plans include a 💍 that could be bought on a student budget Amelia: true Amelia: I'll send some 💐 she'd NEVER put in the 🗑 Amelia: just the 💌 I'll actually bother to write, you know, like a normal person Jac: There goes the mystery Amelia: because of course you wouldn't recognise my handwriting Jac: I've checked your homework over enough times Jac: I doubt anyone else is rushing to send us a bouquet so Jac: process of elimination Amelia: there you go then Jac: but I have told my brother and that Jac: on the off-chance you catch him and he's dying not to bring it up Amelia: bit rude of him not to try and gently break the news Jac: Assumedly either thinking I've imagined the whole thing all over, or it'll all fizzle out before there's any need to go there Amelia: or I'm thriving so hard there's no need to bring me down 1 week in Jac: Obviously that too Jac: but you know that wasn't my intention, yeah Amelia: it's obvious you're not thinking about me, don't worry Jac: Okay Jac: do you want me to leave you now? Amelia: Why would I want that? Jac: Plenty of valid reasons Jac: to process, to not, you just don't feel like talking to me at this precise moment Amelia: what's to process? the bit about her not queerbaiting you the entire time is new, the rest isn't Jac: That's not nothing Jac: it changes the whole thing Amelia: not for me Jac: Alright then Amelia: you were hung up on her every second, what's changed for you is that was a least a bit mutual Amelia: I don't need to process any of that, it doesn't involve me Jac: It's still new information, that's all Amelia: not really Amelia: I probably should have guessed anyway Jac: If I didn't, I don't see how you could've Jac: she didn't even then so Amelia: too late to become a 🔮💎💫 gay, I hear you Jac: 🕵 is definitely a better idea Amelia: maybe I'd just really love to be able to say 'it's just a phase, mum' about something Jac: You've had plenty Amelia: name one Jac: [that boy band I said they liked lol] Jac: for starters Amelia: that wasn't a phase that was me lying that I cared Jac: yeah, okay Jac: you knew all the lyrics 'cos you cover was so deep Jac: no need to lie, they had some tunes Amelia: I knew all the lyrics because there was about 5 lines repeated over and over Jac: uh-huh Jac: you had badges all over your school bag Amelia: because you've never fully committed to a lie, oh wait Jac: There's no need to be a bitch Amelia: 😂 Jac: No, I'm not super ready to laugh about that time in my life, as it goes Amelia: okay Jac: I'm going to leave you to it now Jac: Good luck with your first proper day, hope it all goes well Amelia: actually wait though Amelia: I didn't mean that Amelia: I'm sorry Jac: Alright Jac: I know you're upset, or pissed off Jac: but being a better person doesn't extend to being a punching bag for you to get that out Jac: you can feel it, obviously, but that's just unproductive for you, and not gonna happen from my end Amelia: I know Jac: and I know that's what I did to you Jac: so it probably seems fair, or justified at least, that you get to now Jac: but it wasn't right, and an eye for an eye, you know Amelia: no, it's not fair, I wasn't being, that's why I'm sorry Jac: You don't need to stoop to my lowest Amelia: I'm trying, okay Jac: Yeah Jac: and I accept your apology Amelia: thanks Jac: should I not have told you? Amelia: I think that'd be worse Jac: I thought the same Jac: unless you were going to block me on the sly, then you would have seen Amelia: maybe I should now, I don't know Jac: If you want to Jac: to take some time Jac: or more permanently Jac: it's up to you Jac: obviously my offer of being friends still stands but I understand Jac: as I said, this changes things Amelia: yeah, if we let it Jac: You can't help how this makes you feel Amelia: but why should I let her take everything again? Jac: Savannah isn't actively doing that Jac: but if you want to keep trying, so do I Amelia: we worked hard at getting here, me and you, that's not about her Jac: True Jac: You don't have to be friends with her now, that's not it Jac: just accept that she's my girlfriend, and a big part of my life Amelia: does she know? Jac: About what happened between us? Jac: No Jac: she doesn't know a huge amount about those two years, for me Jac: I plan to tell her everything Jac: but it's a lot to throw at her in a sitting, especially unasked, you know Amelia: it'd really fuck with her freshers, for sure Jac: Right Jac: all for having the hard but necessary conversations Jac: but there's a time and a place Jac: I don't want her to feel like I'm trying to make her feel bad for me, either Jac: like 'look what YOU did' because nah Amelia: too 🥀🥀🥀 Amelia: it can wait, neither of you are going anywhere Jac: That's my logic Amelia: she'll get why you waited Jac: I hope so Amelia: come on, it'll be harder for you to say than it'll be for her to hear, she's a LOT of things, but she won't want you to go through that before you're ready to Jac: You're right Jac: it just feels like secrets, and that feels like 10 steps back Jac: but it isn't that Amelia: I'm sure even she hasn't had time to tell you everything, she'd need to be chatting non stop Jac: True Jac: if you're ever done talking about yourself and your life, that's gotta be a sign you need to get out more, right Jac: there's always more to say Amelia: right Amelia: stop being so virgo-ish about it and give yourself a break Jac: 😂 okay Jac: I just need lectures to actually start Jac: so I can freak out on that instead Amelia: same Jac: are you more 😁 or 😱 Amelia: 😕 Amelia: over 😣 Jac: You'll be fine Jac: let me know how it goes though Jac: I'm interested Amelia: okay 🤓 Jac: Well there's a lot of overlap Jac: obviously, you can usually do them as a double discipline but I wanted to go pure Psych Jac: doesn't mean I'm not 🤔 Amelia: yeah Jac: 🤏🤓 fine Amelia: we're not strangers Jac: I remember Jac: so, what are your new mates like then? Amelia: great, obviously Jac: It's a good thing you aren't taking English Jac: that description leaves a lot to be desired Amelia: what do you want me to say? Jac: Isn't there anyone in particular? Amelia: there's a whole course full of people Jac: Yeah, I like one of my profs, he's really cool Jac: but I don't know anyone on my course that well yet either, they all seem nice enough though Amelia: of course you do Jac: it's so refreshing in comparison to the teachers at our school Jac: even if he acted like a base level human, it'd be a step up Jac: but he knows his stuff, and he's down to help me get ahead, what more could I want Amelia: literally nothing Jac: But I'm still not into dudes so I won't commit that cliche, don't worry Amelia: a real weight off my mind Jac: sure Amelia: 😏 Jac: I've already done loads of prep Jac: can basically chill in his class this whole term Amelia: you can but you won't Amelia: 🤓🏆⭐ Jac: we're not strangers Amelia: maybe we are 🤏 because reading's the only prep we were given but I've already done it Jac: Not really Jac: you just pretended you weren't 🤓 Amelia: no, I just actually wasn't 🤓 about school Jac: plenty of other things Jac: you can't hide the 🤓 Amelia: it's not 😳 I literally can Jac: not from me Amelia: that'd be 10 steps back Jac: try 10000 Amelia: no thank you, that sounds exhausting Jac: you've got a 🛏 Amelia: yeah, I don't know who's more thrilled, me or my dad Amelia: getting to pretend he's allergic to pets for another year at least Jac: result Jac: won't have to fake seduce him on your behalf either Jac: I'm most thrilled Amelia: Savannah is Amelia: undoubtedly Jac: Yeah, that ain't something I ever want to explain 😂 Amelia: she'd be less understanding about it Jac: None of us are understanding that Jac: sorry to your father Amelia: 😂 Jac: I think your mum would snap Jac: go full psycho Amelia: probably Amelia: they're very 😍🥰😘 right now Jac: that's nice Jac: bit gross but good Jac: she won't call you every 10 minutes Amelia: she can try but I won't answer Amelia: the friend I like best will be here soon Jac: Sounds promising Jac: I'll leave you to it for now, for real Jac: you better get ready Amelia: you're so Amelia: you Jac: what does that mean? Amelia: I don't need 👗👠💄 Jac: what's that, a humblebrag? Amelia: hardly Amelia: it's a compliment for you, you're cute for caring Jac: It's not cute, I just like to look nice Amelia: oh so you don't think I look nice? Amelia: rude Jac: everyone looks better for effort Jac: that's simple facts Amelia: anyway, I meant it's cute you care about my social life this much Jac: because I really need you being a loner to worry about Jac: no tah Jac: obviously I'm happy for you Amelia: you don't need to worry about me whatever happens Jac: It's not optional Amelia: okay Jac: I never stopped Amelia: you can stop now Jac: That's just what being friends is Amelia: I'm no expert Amelia: have to take your word for it, if anything Jac: I know you care about me too Amelia: but you're thriving so I don't have to worry Jac: I guess Jac: it's not just for the bad times though, is it Amelia: I hope not Jac: it's not Jac: come on Jac: pull yourself together and at least do 1 out of 3 👗👠💄 Amelia: fine, I'll put shoes on Jac: that's what I like to hear Amelia: 🙄 just because I'm ignoring my mum there's no need for you to take over from her Jac: I still can't do any handicrafts so unlikely Amelia: Savannah is unlikely to wear a homemade 🧣 so I think you're fine Jac: she loves anything thoughtful but I ain't gonna start there still Amelia: 💐 Jac: Naturally Jac: both our rooms look like a florist already Jac: makes up for the shabby walls and carpet you can't do much about Amelia: any time you'd like to fully lean into the 👵 I'll do you an embroidery hoop or something Amelia: very chic Jac: they do sell a lot of that sort of thing in the charity shops Jac: I'm sure your 🎨 will be better than whatever the actual 👵 decided to do 🖼 Amelia: SUCH a compliment, I have no idea how I'm not 😳 Jac: Charity shops are in Jac: I'm not going to call it thrifting, I'm not even half-American, wouldn't be able to take myself seriously Amelia: good, please don't Jac: vintage, upcycling, all acceptable Amelia: for my mother Amelia: I'll take how 'modern' my room here is Jac: I suppose that does make a change Jac: I love the buildings though, the architecture Amelia: 🎨 Amelia: yeah, would be inspiring if I had any time Jac: Is Cork by the coast? Jac: I know nothing about that area Jac: I'm like NEXT to the beach, it's incredible Amelia: it's one of the largest natural harbours in the world, if that doesn't make you want to come and visit me, well ?? Amelia: it has it's own lovely architecture Jac: You should work for the tourism board, honestly Jac: good speech, that Amelia: 🤷🏻 Amelia: I'm here for the 🤓 and you're already interested in that Jac: I'd go to Italy, if I were you Jac: but then, Denmark might have the most interesting criminal practices and laws, so that's a good choice too Amelia: you'll visit me there then, yeah? Jac: I forgot about Sweden, but those three are the real ones to consider Jac: and we can sort visiting when we're even a bit settled Amelia: okay Jac: we've only just left Amelia: thanks for that obvious reminder Jac: 😏 Jac: you know what I mean Jac: give me a chance to get my diary in order before you're saying I'm avoiding you or whatever Amelia: give you a chance to miss me, you mean Amelia: you've got one right now, because I have to go get ready Jac: Oh, if we had to wait for that, you'd never see me again 😉 Jac: have fun 👠👠 Amelia: 💔 Amelia: bye

[jpat82]

Halloween Party

Evening gouls and ghosties, up next is our Party.

It was the night of the party, you had put on your Halloween costume. The white tight fitting dress came to mid thigh, the red velvet hood and cape draped perfectly around your shoulders, hitting the back of your knees. You looked at yourself in the mirror, the red lipstick accented by the dark Smokey eye shadow you had put on. You smiled to yourself knowing jaws would probably hit the floor once they saw this.

You walked over and grabbed the basket from your bed, pretty little checker white and blue fabric placed delicately inside. You sat down for a brief moment to pull on your matching red pumps before raising back to your feet. You took a deep breath trying not to rush down to the main hall where Tony was hosting the elaborate Halloween party. It had been your idea for it to be a costume party, and you were elated when Tony agreed.

Your heels clicked as you walked to the elevator meeting Natasha there. She was dress as an angel, cloaked in pure white, soft feathered wings strapped to her back. She smiled coyly at you as you waltz up.

"My, my, y/n, I swear I'd eat you right up." Natasha smirked, licking her lips for the fun of it.

"Oh dear me, would an angelic face like that say something like that to little old me?" You retorted, the door rolled open and the two of you set in side, she pushed the button for the next floor down.

"Any idea what anybody is going to be?" She asked, looking at you through the steal reflection of the elevator door.

"No, I swear it would be easier to get information on Hydra bases then to find out Halloween costumes." You chuckled shaking your head, your hair bouncing lightly as you did.

"Very true." She smiled, the cab dinged and the door rolled to sides. Both of you stepped out in unison.

Colorful lights swiveled around, the monster mash was playing and you couldn't contain the grin that was plastered to your face. Growing up all you wanted to be a part of was a Halloween party, but never got the chance and now here you were. Not only one were you were surround by your friends but they were your makeshift family and to top it off it was Stark party.

As you and the master spy slowly descended the stairs together, you truly got to see what a Stark party was about. Expert decorations adorned the area, a professional bar tender behind the bar, men and women walked around with trays of goodies, whether it was drinks or food. Agents milled about and other people who were lucky enough to know Tony. A whistle caught your attention and you looked over your should as you hit the bottom step.

"Well hello ladies." Bucky purred, He was dressed completely in black, fake fangs poke out of his mouth as grinned over to you both. He slung an arm over both of your shoulders, walking you to the bar. "I'm going to guess that Nat is angel and you're little red riding hood."

"Nope, I'm Lucifer." You giggled, smacking him on the chest.

"Did you show enough leg?" Steve asked coming up to the three of you. He had on a cape, the under side was crimson and the back was jet black, the top corner of his face obscured by a white plastic mask.

"Phantom Of the Opera." You smiled at him, stepping out away from Bucky, grabbing his hands and holding them out so you could get a better look. "Love it, Steve."

"And in our defense, we've worn less on missions." Nat retorted.

"Hey guys," Bruce came running up, his clothes ripped, his skin was painted grey, with fake stitching across his face. Bolts stuck out of his neck, and his hair was a disheveled mess. "Have you seen Tony?"

"No, I left him with Wilson." Bucky stated, raising an eye brow at him. "And you are?"

"He's Frankenstein's monster." Natasha chipped in grabbing a wine glass and taking a sip.

"Okay." Bucky replied slowly.

"I'm going to go see what everyone else went as." You excused yourself, taking your drink as you pulled away from everyone.

You walked around the outside of the room, observing, you counted a couple cops, firefighters, a sexy nun or two. You spotted Clint from across the room, he was clad in straight red, two horns popping out of his head. You chuckled yourself, of course he would go as a demon since Natasha was an angel.

You spot Thor and Loki, obviously Dr. Jeckel and Mr Hyde and they were talking with their friend they had brought with them, Valkyrie who was dressed in normal clothes except the fact she held a giant wood stake in her hand. This is how you pictured Halloween parties growing up, people dressed up milling about playing into there chosen characters.

You spot Tony, across the way, dressed as Frankenstein, standing among two zombies, Peter and Shuri, who had chains draped from they necks and Okoye, who dressed as a zombie hunter. Giggling to yourself you stood off to the side, just watching with fascination, Scott had went as a priest, Wanda an old fashion witch and next to her was Vision covered head to toe in bandages.

You walked over to Agent Ross and Dr. Stranger, seeing as how the were dressed rather normally. Minus the fact you had never seen Dr. Stranger in anything other then his usual attire.

"Gentlemen, may I ask who you are?" You asked with a smile.

"Well, I'm Watson and this is Sherlock." Agent Ross replied with a terse smile.

"The famous detective?" You questioned with a smile, Dr. Stranger giving you a smirk and a quick wink. "It's an honor."

"Ms. Riding Hood might I give you a word of caution, there is a big bad wolf loose on the party." Stranger told you with coy smile.

"Oh really, I'll keeps my eyes out. If you'll excuse me Gentlemen." You said, walking away, chuckling lightly. A sudden breeze whisked past you, startling.

"Bet you didn't see that coming." Was whispered in your ear, you turned, and no one was there. But you knew from that accent it was the other Maximoff twin, Pietro. Who knowing him thought he be clever and go as a ghost, so suiting.

"Well, hello gorgeous." You hear Peter Quil call from off to the side, you almost jumped six feet from him. His brightly colored clothes, dirty and ripped, his white face paint smeared same as the red. He was the one thing you didn't care much for, a clown, an evil clown to be precise.

"Yeah, you stay on that side of the room." You laughed and continued your way back the bar, passing T'Challa who had an eye patch on and a fake parrot on his shoulder.

"Sam!" You called out, seeming him covered in fur. As you approached he turned toward you, oversized fake teeth in his mouth. "What big teeth you have."

"Better to eat you with." He replied with a coy smile.

You turned to look out over the party, a warm fuzzy feeling crawling in your chest. A man dressed in red with hints of black, slipped through the crowd. He had a bible, and a vial labeled as holywater, two katana strapped to his back. No one noticed as he looked around, his overdone white eyes on the hood of costume enlarged when he saw you spy him. He held up a red clad finger, pushing it to his mask before slinking off. You shook your head and sighed. 

"This is seriously going to be the most awesome night ever." You stated out loud.

@kitkatkl @octobermermaid @ajosieface @instantnoodlese @crystlblu @coffeebooksandfandom @thisismysecrethappyplace @the-wayward-robot @lokilvrr @purplerain85 @devilbat

[guessmonsta]

Hi your tendou soulmate post was so beautifully written! I'd been saving this request for so long! Could you do a scenario for tendou having a crush on his school's idol who everyone sees as charming and happy but she struggles with depression and tendou finds her crying and comforts her and afterwards she develops feelings for him? I've been having a really hard time dealing with depression and how people perceive me lately. Thank you for your time even if you don't get around to this request!

《If you ever need anyone, I’m right here. My dms are open 24/7 and I literally do nothing with my life. I wish you the best ♡♡♡》

Perfection was nothing but deception. That’s what Tendou Satori thought, at least. Issues run fruitfully through the veins of anything to ever take a breath of air, and to Tendou, a flawless being is a being that doesn’t exist. That’s why he found __ __ to be so interesting.

She was definitely out of the ordinary but nothing extraordinary, either. Although, she did walk the halls of Shiratorizawa academy like she owned the place and truth be told, she probably did. She had the face of an angel, the generosity of a saint and the grades to get her a one way ticket straight to a PhD. If Tendou knew anything, though, it was that you can’t be nice, smart and pretty all at once, and if you are, you’re a fake. __ was a fake, and a convincing one at that. Convincing enough to trick Ushijima Wakatoshi into befriending her. When Tendou had gotten the news that Ushijima, the emotionally closed off, socially distant captain himself, spent a two hour study session in the library with her after practice, he was anything but baffled. He reckons that was when he started taking an interest in her, Shiratorizawa’s princess herself.

According to Semi, anyone who spends three seconds around __ will instantaneously fall in love with her charisma. It’s what she was infamous for, apparently, yet for some reason, Tendou could never find himself striking a conversation with her. He figured it would be utterly pathetic and not worth risking his dignity for. He imagined it would be a one way conversation of her asking him pointless, small talk questions and him red in the face, blubbering responses like like a toddler. That was the last situation Tendou would like to be caught in, especially during the most stressful time of the school year. He really didn’t mind not getting to talk to her, though. As a self proclaimed introvert, he much rather liked sitting by the sidelines and watching her interact with other people, except himself. This ‘hobby’, as Shirabu liked to call it, might get him deemed as a stalker, but Tendou disagreed. He was simply just dismantling her for now, taking the puzzle apart piece by piece until it was shattered on the floor. Only until then, would he make a move and piece it all back together.

Tendou really didn’t know much about her yet. He knew she liked music quite a bit. Earbuds always hug out of the pocket of her bookbag and the face of it was covered in band pins. She attended all their home games but never stayed to talk to anyone afterwards. He reckoned she had a knack for the fine arts since she always seemed to linger in that wing, which brought him to the conclusion that she was taking several fine arts courses to compensate for a void in her schedule, most likely lunch, since he never saw her in the cafeteria. The only time he’s ever seen her in casual clothes was in the library after hours. She wore a t-shirt with a funky octopus looking animal on the front which made him realize she wasn’t as cool as she wanted people to believe she was. He made an inference that she came from a rich family, because as smart as she was, grades alone couldn’t get you into Shiratorizawa, not without a prominent extracurricular activity, that is, and she did none. Although she was the poster child of the dance team, but the whole fine arts department was gravely outshined. With all the minimal information Tendou had stockpiled, he came to the conclusion that this tragic hero’s flaw was undeniably depression.

It had to be, there was no way it couldn’t. It was a mischievous little devil that was easy to hide but quick to come out and just by staring at her, he saw its dead eyes in hers. The dark rings underneath the sockets, the glossiness, the agony. Tendou thought it was silly to judge a person based on their eyes, for all he knew she could just be tired all the time. Although, in this case, he knew she wasn’t just tired. There was so much more, a forest full of secrets and lies that she kept flourishing. Tendou couldn’t wait to chop all the trees down. His teammates would tell him he was being creepy, that his crush had become a full blown obsession, but he couldn’t disagree. At this point, he knew it was far too early to say that he was in love with her, but he was definitely intrigued with her. He was intrigued enough to spy on her, sometimes. Well, he wouldn’t call it spying, per say, more like uncomfortable one-sided observing. He found himself spending a lot more of his free time roaming the arts wing. He found out she was a marvelous dancer, a ballerina, much to his amusement, with movements that sent shivers down his spine. He reckoned that she had to have noticed him at this point, even for a second, at least. In the matter of three months he had become her biggest fan on the sidelines, and he kept mindlessly hoping that one day he’d get to talk to her.

And that day came.

But not like how he wanted.

Everyone imagines their first conversation with their crush to be something picturesque. A James Dean and Audrey Hepburn moment, if you were to get into specifics. Although, Tendou clearly wasn’t receiving that in this very moment. It was fourth period lunch and since he had nothing better to do than ramble with Semi, he found himself getting lost in the arts wing. Even if __ wasn’t down there, the school had some remarkable violinists he had never known about, if they were even violinists, that was. Although when he got there the hallway was barren, except for a dark, looming corner at the end of the hall. The lights were off somehow, but through the light of closed classrooms he could still make out the figure hunched over and bawling into the crevice of its sleeve. It was her.

Half of Tendou wanted to book right then and there. He was an incompetent emotional wreck himself and barely knew how to cope with his own cranial calamity. The other half wanted to approach her and comfort her in her most vulnerable state, knowing he’d never get a chance at this again. Although, all of him was absolutely thrilled. He had guessed right yet again. He stood there for a moment, frozen in his tracks, watching her with a blank face as she sat there and screamed. If Tendou had never seen this same situation played out in front of him before, he might’ve been horrified.

But he wasn’t horrified, and that was all the motivation he needed to approach her. She didn’t hear his footsteps, as boisterous as he tried to make them. She only noticed him after he was hovering above her for a solid three minutes, when he cleared his throat abruptly. She looked up at him, wide eyed, and screamed, making haste as she gave him an impromptu kick to the shins. He shot her a feared look, she shot him a feared look, and everything went dead silent until one of them dared to open their mouths. “I uh… Are you okay?” Tendou ended up muttering, breaking the looming, dead silence. “Do I look okay?”“Well you kick okay, that’s for sure.” She shot Tendou another glare. He did nothing but shrug. “Do you want to talk about it? Instead of, you know, screaming your lungs out by yourself?”“I’m sorry for kicking you,” Was her reply instead. “I get really anxious when people surprise me.”“Nah, you’re alright. I can take a blow.” Tendou shrugged again, waiting for any positive reaction, or any reaction at all for him to sit down next to her against the wall. She sniffled, and he took that as his queue for him to slump up down in a ball at her side. “Aren’t you on the volleyball team?” She inquired. She had reburied her head in between her knees, but Tendou knew she had stopped crying. The cracks in her voice had smoothed out, though the tremble of pain was still there. “Yes ma’am.”“Why do you care about me, then?”

Tendou really didn’t know why he cared about her.

“I don’t really know. I, uh, I see you around a lot though, I mean, everyone does but-” Tendou paused. He knew what he wanted to say but didn’t know if he should say it. He was already the weird kid who approached her in a dark hallway, he didn’t need another title. Her hands were gripping at the fabric at her knees. She had lifted her head up but refused to look at him, even when he was talking. He didn’t care, she was coming out of her shell. “-but I figured you must be hiding something the moment someone first mentioned your name. I hate to say it but…”“But what?”“But nobody’s flawless. Even people who think they can try to be flawless, people like you, they still have flaws. It’s like foundation for the mind, you know, you can use so much but the blemishes are still there.”“I thought…” __ peeped, looking up at him, finally, for the first time that day without a menacing look in her eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be the funny one on the team.”

Tendou snorted, and without thinking burst, out laughing. She kept giving him an odd look, but didn’t move. “Did I say something funny?”

“No.” He replied, shaking his head in the midst of giggles. “But see here, everybody has a reputation they’ve built up. Mine, I guess, is the funny guy on the volleyball team, or whatever. You, you’re the schools idol. The chick everyone’s parents are like, ‘Why aren’t you more like that __ girl! She gets good grades and dances!’ No matter who you are, everybody faces the same demons sometimes. If you really want my opinion, which I’m guessing you don’t, Look, look at your face. Do you know what kind of face you’re making at me right now? You look like you want my blood.” At this, she cracked a smile. Something inside of Tendou had burst.

“But __, I think you’re going to be just fine. Whatevers going on right now in your life, it’ll pass. You got decades ahead of you, and you’ll find your paradise along the way. If anyone can do it, it’s you”“I really don’t know what to say. I’m a bit shaken right now, to be honest? But, um, thank you, thank you so much. You must’ve gone through a lot too, I’m guessing?”“Yeah, but that’s for a different time.” Tendou shrugged, faking a smile down at her. He sighed and got back up on his feet, helping her up with him with a little bounce in his step.

“Listen to me now, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you look like you just hopped straight out of a horror movie scene. Go wash your face and get back to class. School’ll be over in three hours, and don’t try to push yourself to be lively. That’s not who you are today, and that’s okay. If you need me to beat anyone up, I gotchu. Tendou’s the name, okay?”“Tendou…” she bowed, eyes pointed at her feet. “For someone with such an odd reputation, you’re quite the character, you know that?”“Well, I’ve been told. It depends, do ya mean character in a good way or in a bad way?”“Good, good for sure. Um, will we ever talk again?”“Depends, do you wanna talk again?““Definitely. Maybe next time we don’t have to talk about my crippling mental state?”“Sounds like a deal.”

[maraschinocheri]

I know I'd happily read all the novels on Killian as Valjean. Oh Ginger, this is going to be something quite special. I can't wait to see it.

OH JOIN ME IN THE CAN’T-WAITING ROOM.

So! The novel I’m absolutely not writing about Killian stepping in as Valjean at cast change in June. Like the novel I absolutely didn’t write about Gblags’ Drink with Me, I’m just going to knock this out and not overthink it. Not least because I’ve said so much about it before, and because if I do think too hard about it, there will be Emotions Business. This is long, whoops. No one is surprised.

First, this is A Good Time to do it. Not necessarily because of the lack of roles in London now for him, but that is a factor. A bigger factor is that vocally and physically, he’s so ready now. He’s spent the last year and a half on cruise control vocally—Charlie is no stretch in terms of the singing, and Soul of a Man is a song-hill Killian could climb in his sleep; Jackie in Donegal wasn’t strenuous, either—and since The Commitments he’s learned how to take care of his voice. While in Memphis he made leaps and bounds as an actor, and while KB was no challenge in that respect, he at least has retained the stronger grip on himself he found. Since February of this year, he’s also made some definite changes that now have him quite fit; I think he is nearing some of the best possible shape of his professional life, and right on time, too.

But then he’s not entirely unfamiliar with the physical needs of the role, of course. I have no count of how many times he covered Valjean between between 2009–2011, but it was no doubt enough to give him plenty of information on the toll the role takes. The songs will not trouble him, that’s a near-as-dammit certainty; even if he doesn’t have the bell-like clarity now that you could hear in his Valjean then, there will be an even more wonderful richness and maturity to his singing that wasn’t there before. I’ve heard and read arguments that he was just too young, and I get that—there is a case to be made that he’s still too young now, but again, see below re: available roles in London, and a guy’s got to pay the mortgage—but there’s not been a better time than now, vocally; really, truly—everything since The Commitments has been building to this. Killian grew up in this show over three years, and left it soaring but still young; think of everything he brings back to it now.

So what do we potentially have to look forward to? Obviously a glorious Bring Him Home (I expect I will die, and so will be sure to plan for an aisle seat so my death and resurrection for The Final Battle cause the least possible distraction), but also a marvelous Who Am I?—he’s always sounded lovely in that one, though the last note always seems to surprise him—and a potentially thrilling Confrontation (his Confrontation with Norm Lewis is my hands-down all time favourite version of the song), and a soaring final note on One Day More. I don’t think he ever quite got a proper handle on Valjean’s Soliloquy, so I am very much looking forward to him working through it and finding his way. His weakness as a cover was the finale, but that I think was a product of youth, and he couldn’t find the elderly, desperately exhausted Valjean inside himself at that time. My guess is that it will be drawn out more easily now. Smaller moments to look forward to would be the interaction with Fantine and, to a lesser extent, Cosette; Killian’s an incredibly generous actor with women, and capable of showing great tenderness when called for and sometimes even when not. For my part, it will be a joy to actually feel invested in some of the early scenes of the show again. And I hope beyond hope for an excellent take on my favourite lines of Valjean, in the scene where he lets Javert leave the barricade. I’m not in love with the past few years’ blocking choices in that scene, but if anyone can make it work for me, it would be Killian.

The only thing I would have loved even more would be to have Thaxton back as his Javert—my DonnellyThaxton2K15 campaign banners still wave in the metaphorical breeze, as each could have no better foil than the other—but we can’t always get what we want. eta: Of course I wake up to find Hayden Tee will be playing Javert. I am very, very pleased. What I had written here about Jeremy Secomb is no longer relevant.

(On a side note, my hope is that in rehearsals they bring John Caird and Kate Flatt back in again, to rein in the Chris Key-based histrionics; the wonders they worked on Revolve 29 were incredible. I’ll just hope for the best. Killian knows the Brick, and well, and I think he will honour what he can.)

And now for some quick dips in the shallow end of the pool: First, I am so ready for the costumes, too; I love Valjean’s Monsieur Madeleine garb, and oh, the waistcoats. I will die, but what a way to go. Second, while we may never again know the glory of Killian’s Enjolocks, my hope is that they don’t wig him poorly as the older Valjean. And please, don’t let him pull a Lockyer and pretty much shave his head. Third, we could get the beard back. I am delighted. Not least because it would be so much better than the fake beard on Sexy Jesus Valjean back in the day:

Almost last and very least, when I jokingly said the time is now, the day is here, I really wasn’t joking that much. A quick survey of the West End season coming up doesn’t offer many open doors for Killian—the parts are really just not there—and while I would never call the role of Jean Valjean a stopgap, it is at least something comfortable on more than a few levels while he gets his feet back in London. And if he stays a full year—no guarantees of that, of course—then he will walk back out of the Queens almost exactly 10 years after he first took the stage before an audience, Swing'ing the Joly track on the first night of LM 08–09.

(I would love to know what the young SuperSwing who’d been cleaning his bathroom when he first got the call to cover Valjean that night would think if you’d told him he’d eventually be taking over as principal in under a decade. To tell the truth, that SuperSwing would probably say you’re shitting me, but also be thinking to himself, well, yeah, obviously, that’s the plan. The unprofessional professional is as ambitious as any other lad, after all.)

Anyway. This is far too long already, but I will say this: Killian knows how much he owes to this show, and has never stopped loving it, and his investment in it has already been rewarded by the promotion to Enjolras, by the featuring in the 25AC and the film, by the Oscars—it goes on. When he urged the powers that be to give him more to do as Swing rather than just shift him to Grantaire in his second year, I think that was the first step of so many that brought him to this point, to this glorious point.

During my DonnellyThaxton2K15 campaign ridiculousness, I said essentially this, and I hold to it: a return on [Killian’s] part would be a chance for [one] of the many, many London casts’ most emotionally-invested actors to leave everything [he has] on the floor. I also said it was a dream, and one that has little to no guarantee of coming true, but it’s deliriously good fun to think about. Occasionally dreams force themselves true, and I am so, so thrilled.

[auskultu]

Yardbird Jimmy Page says, 'Open Your Mind'

Hit Parader magazine: WHEN YOU were a session man, were you playing bass or lead guitar?

Jim: Lead guitar.

HP: Was it difficult to switch to bass when you joined the Yardbirds?

Jim: It was at first because I tended to play it like a guitar. With the bass you just play a sort of root thing. I was just leaping around all over the place with great speed and I had to stop doing that. I managed to simplify it. But at first I was playing far too quickly.

HP: I read somewhere that you were going to play lead soon?

Jim: I already have because Jeff was taken ill. Chris took over bass.

HP: Who were some of the other people you have accompanied?

Jim: Them, the Kinks, Georgie Fame, I did some stuff for the Rolling Stones. Actually, we just did a lot of things for fun for Andrew Oldham. In fact, it really was good fun. But I've never been on any of their records. I was on the Who stuff. Petula Clark, P.J. Proby. Nearly everybody who didn't have their own backup group.

HP: How would you describe your style of guitar playing?

Jim: My style has always been very similar to Jeff Beck's. We knew each other for about 9 years. We've always liked the same music and we had the same tastes. As a result, it's been quite easy to fill in for him. When we get the two lead guitars going, it should be pretty good. Because it'll be like two identical people playing together.

HP: What's your opinion of the Paul Butterfield Blues Band?

Jim: I haven't seen them live. But their album is pretty good. As a harp player, Butterfield is really great. He's better than anybody in England. Lots of people speak of Mike Bloomfield, but there are a lot of guys in England who play that stuff.

HP: Beck is an excellent guitarist, but why isn't more of his solo work heard on records?

Jim: How far can you go? We've been told our latest album is too far advanced. There's too much electronic stuff on it. But I think it's all basic. We cut a single with Jeff. It's a Bolero thing. It's very exciting and strange. It's either going to be a monster or a bomb. It's an instrumental based on the classical Bolero piece. Beck's guitar-playing is exploited quite a bit there. But how much can you do that the public will accept? You either make a commercial record or a musicians' record. You've got to draw the line somewhere.

HP: Are there some good blues bands in England?

Jim: There's one called John Mayall's Blues Breakers. Mayall himself is terrible. And then Eric Clapton is good, but he's in the Mike Bloomfield bag, and that's that. And there are lots of good guitarists in minor bands.

HP: Would you say blues is still a big rage in England?

Jim: No, not really. It's still got a market; it's the same thing as in America.

HP: Are you basically a blues guitarist?

Jim: Before the Indian thing was exploited, everyone said I played like an Indian. Mainly because I was interested in the music so many years back. I had the albums and I sent to India for a sitar. I had one long before George Harrison. I tried to learn the actual classical music. It's very difficult. There are so many sides to it. I tried to adapt that to my guitar playing.

HP: Why have musicians latched on to these Indian sounds?

Jim: Because it's so esoteric. Everybody thinks they understand. They get a new sound and they say this is it. But really, they don't know what's going on, I'm sure. I've heard people in groups playing sitars and they don't know what's going on. They don't even tune them up right. Apparently, George Harrison has become deeply interested in it. He plays a sitar on their new album and he was getting along very well. People like Brian Jones just got it for the one record and I doubt if they'll ever use it again.

HP: There are a lot of Indians living in London, aren't there?

Jim: Yes, there are quite a few. Strangely enough, when you speak to them of Indian music, they don't seem to know anything about it. The only thing they know is the western music or the Indian film music, which is completely different from the classical. When you ask them about it, they recommend you to the Asian society or something. I met Ravi Shankar and that's how I got my information on how to tune up the sitar.

HP: Will you be writing material for the Yardbirds now?

Jim: With them, not for them. When one of us has an idea, we all chip in on it until it's finished. I wasn't on the last two, but 'Shapes of Things' and 'Over, Under, Sideways, Down' were all made up in the studio.

HP: What kind of equipment do you use?

Jim: When Chris is on rhythm guitar, we use any old amplifier because it isn't that important, but on bass we have a big set-up with 2 or 3 speakers.

On this tour, we've been given Jordan equipment. It's all transistorized equipment. We're sort of experimenting with it. It hasn't worked out properly on the lead guitars. But it's been sufficient on the bass. On bass, we've got 6 speakers to 8 speakers. In England I've been using a Showman Fender amplifier. And a Fender concert amp which is a smaller one with 4 ten-inch speakers. I link them up together so I get double the power. Through one you get the bass frequencies and through the other I use feedback and the treble frequencies. This is about the best set-up I've had so far. But Jordan is working on some new equipment which should prove to be great. I play a Gibson Les Paul guitar, Chris has an Epiphone bass and there's another Gibson floating around. Eventually, it will be all Gibson because we bought them and never bothered to change them. They're quite adequate.

HP: How did you finally end up with the equipment you've got now?

Jim: We just worked on it. I've been playing guitar for a few years now and I just work on this certain line. You do as best you can. The only problem being we blow up quite a few amps. We did one show and I had 4 amplifiers all linked up. It must have been about 400 watts all together. Those were Vox amps. They just can't take the volume. The speakers blow and then you don't get any sound at all. The Jordan ones didn't blow up, but they don't have enough volume. I've never broken a guitar, but I've been through nearly every make. I've never found a guitar which is exactly what I want. At the moment, I'm happy with this Gibson. I've also got a Fender Telecaster. I find every guitar's got a sound of its own and you can use them all and get something out of them. I haven't used the Telecaster on stage yet. Actually, all my guitars are in England because I came over playing bass. I switched to Jeff's guitar. His is very close to mine because they're both Les Paul models. Normally, we all travel by plane and the equipment goes by van. We have two road managers, one for the equipment and one for us.

HP: Have you found a big difference in British youth and American youth?

Jim: The Americans are a little more narrow-minded. The English, at the moment, are completely broad-minded. This wasn't the original concept of the English, was it? You can shock people in America very easily. If people are shocked, that's their bad luck. They should open their minds. In England, you could walk around in the nude and you wouldn't shock anyone. They'd think you should be put away, but they wouldn't beat the guts out of you. Also, the age of consent is 16. You can marry at 16. The attitude over there is completely free, just like the attitude toward clothes.

HP: Are you really that concerned about how you look?

Jim: I'm not really concerned with clothes. People put that on my shoulders. In actual fact, I'm pleased to see people walking around in outrageous things. They're throwing off the chains of a society that was. It's probably making England completely decadent, but so what. Billy Graham was just over there in England and if you walked around with him, you'd have seen it look all pretty decadent. I'd have to agree. He didn't make any impact at all. Actually, it's a forecast of the end of society. But I don't care because I'll be dead before it ends. If we've come this far in five years, it should really be something in another five. I'd like the new society to be a peaceful one but it won't be, because violence seems to be the answer to every problem. Every fringe society must be experiencing this. We walk around with long hair and someone shouts something, so you give them an answer back which is a little sharp and which they don't quite expect. Then they can't give you an answer, so they come to fists. What sort of mentality is that? I can't argue with a person like that.

It must be terrible for someone to have to fight in a war. I haven't had to think about wars. It's just something I haven't had to contend with, really, I hadn't realized what a big problem it is. I've just seen the horrors of it.

HP: Well, England doesn't have any big thing going now.

Jim: No, this is it. We have no conscription whatsoever. I'll never be drafted or anything.

HP: They won't send you over to Africa to beat up some people or anything?

Jim: Well, they don't do this. People wouldn't do this. If they had a mass conscription now, I dread thinking how many people would go. Because it would only be 40% of those who would have gone before they dropped conscription. People don't want to know about it anymore. They think, well, why should I waste two years of my life and probably lose my life in the process. They just don't want to know anymore.

They've got a regular army where you join and you jet paid every week for doing it. And you just do maneuvers and things.

HP: They have that here, too!

Jim: Yeah, sure, but yours is more of a reality because they get drafted over to Viet Nam. Basically, I must be a coward, but I just couldn't shoot someone. I guess it's different if they're looking at you with a gun and you're looking at them with a gun. You'd have to do it, though. I'd just be violently sick afterwards. I'd never forgive myself, anyway. I'm not the sort of person who's the violent type. I've never never had a fight in my life. I've never put my fists up to anybody. I've never needed to. Only, as I say, through the long hair problem people have said things. But it's never developed. Even if you say come on then, they still won't do anything. Basically, they've still got no guts. But even if they did, I'd run a mile. It's funny because you think, well, what are they going to do, and they don't do anything. So they just wasted the whole time laughing at you. Perhaps they just laugh to reassure their own masculinity.

HP: Why do you think there's such a big concern with clothes?

Jim: I don't know. It's a projection of one's character, I suppose.

HP: Is Carnaby Street a real madhouse?

Jim: It's so easy to send that Carnaby Street thing up. It really is. It's really a street with lots and lots of clothing shops. It's quite a revelation if you've never seen anything like it before, and I'm sure nobody over here has. There's nothing like that. It's just teen-age fashions, bizarre styles. You go there on a Saturday and the kids are there spending money. This is all part of the game, I suppose. Yeah, they spend a fortune on clothes. I don't know where some of the young ones get it from. You see them walking around and they must have spent twice what they've earned.

HP: Do they have things like charge accounts over there?

Jim: No. Not on Carnaby Street, anyway. They won't take checks or anything, not from the kids. Not unless they know you. But there is a big leaning towards clothes and fashions. It's an extension of their character. People have become more aware of the fact that, if they dress up and they look really elegant, I'm not saying Carnaby Street, but if they've got a very clean-cut suit on and still look pretty hip with it and not just sort of middle class, it has the affect on a girl.

HP: What's the biggest thing you dislike about America?

Jim: You see, the only thing that I've seen is violence, but I've only been doing concerts. I don't get out to walk around and meet people very often. If I was walking around the street, I probably wouldn't see any violence whatsoever. So, it's difficult. You see, I haven't seen much of America on this tour. But, when I had my holidays before in Hollywood, I enjoyed it. I thought it was great.

HP: You spent your holiday in Los Angeles?

Jim: Before I joined the group, I spent my holidays for the last couple of years in Hollywood.

HP: What are some of the things you enjoyed in Hollywood?

Jim: The weather. The weather's pretty bad in England. I met quite a few people and made some good friends. I liked the Sunset Strip; there's quite a bit happening there. I got to see groups I could never see in England.

HP: If you had a choice, where would you like to live?

Jim: Miles away from anybody. That's what I'm going to do when I get back. I'm buying a house. It's about a half a mile from anybody else. It's got a river, five bedrooms. That's for when the group slows down a bit. But we'll be working hard for the next year. There's so many things I'd like to do that I don't have the time for now. Things which are very important to me, like painting. But it's best to work now and make all the money I can.

HP: What kind of books do you like to read?

Jim: I used to study religion when I was in art school. But I stopped.

HP: Was that how you got interested in Indian music?

Jim: It may have been subconsciously. But I didn't just read about it and then go onto it. At the moment, I read sort of very strange things like I, Jan Cramer. Things which are a social comment. This Cramer is a beat painter in Holland. I like Henry Miller, too.