#no idea who the winner would be but the loser would be dream pop

[eggmeralda]

listening to the sort of music that would kill my onceler oc within an instant

[fandomscombine]

A Gingerbread Revelation

Husband!George Weasley x Reader

BG: You can’t wait to tell husband George of some life changing news. And you have found a nice way of popping it up while he bakes.

Inspired by Oliver Phelps’ baking on his insta stories

WC: 935

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

The sun is out accompanied with the winter breeze. You can’t help being giggly as you open the door to your house – the weather is great, and you have just received wonderful news that you can’t wait to tell your husband. Ah what a perfect day, nothing could be better.

Stepping into the doorway, you were bombarded with the smell of spices.

You make your way to the kitchen to which you spot your husband hunched over the kitchen island. Baking, no doubt.

Quietly you tip toed behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, breathing in his scent – cocoa, earl grey tea and the ever signature scent of the twins- a hint of fireworks. ‘Whatcha making, love?’ You muffled into his shoulder.

‘Gingerbread cookies.’ George pauses to kiss the side of your forehead. ‘Here, let me just put this last batch into the oven and we can get started on decorating on the previous batches.’

‘Yes chef!’ You teased, heading to the sink to wash your hands.  

While his back was towards you discretely ate a cookie as you came up with an idea on how to tell him the big news.

You were about to reach for another when George caught you. ‘Heey! No eating until it’s decorated!’

‘I’m hungry!’

‘Wait, love. You’ll need this.’ You look down as he ties a ribbon behind it to keep the apron in place. Chuckling when you realised that you both are now wearing matching sets. ‘Mr. Professional Chef and Mrs. Professional Taster Huh? Cheeky.’

‘Only stating the facts, dear!’

‘Hey I can cook!’ You said defensively.

‘Sure love, but there is no denying that I am the better cook, and in this instance, the better baker.’

‘Okay, but how about this…Who is the better decorator?’ You proposed. ‘The loser does all the washing!’

George considered this. ‘But there’s only 2 of us. How could I guarantee that you won’t for yourself just because?’

‘Pinkie swear, that we would be objective on who is the winner.’  You offered.

‘Alright.’ He sighed interlocking with your outstretched pinkie. ‘You’re on Weasley.’

‘You’re going down. Weasley boy!’

~

20 minutes had passed by and George was already done decorating his share of the gingerbread family – You wish you thought of you plan through. On one hand, yes this is a brilliant execution to share the news but on the other hand George’s family has twice the number of yours. So, he was basically done in under 15 minutes and is now coming up with ways to sabotage your designs.

You were currently working on the Ron gingerbread man when George bumped your elbow, causing the “R” of Gingerbread Ron’s Sweater to be a “D”.

‘Uh George!’ You exclaimed, trying to fix the damage but to no avail. You picked up the cookie and shrugged. ‘Guess you have to go by Don now.’ Before placing him back on the finished pile.

‘Oh love! I am so calling little Ronniekins by that now.’ Snickered George.

A few more minutes had gone by and you’re putting the finishing touches onto Gingerbread Ginny’s outfit. ‘Anddd done!’

‘FINALLLLY’ George stood up and lined your Gingerbread with his. ‘Okay now let’s see how we--- y/n? Love?’

George looked over and saw that you were once again working on another cookie. ‘Wait are we missing someone?’ He asked. Though the question seam to fly over your head, too focused on decorating.

George move closer to get a better look over your shoulder. ‘B….’ Glancing back at the pile of Gingerbread, he quickly scanned for Bill’s cookie. ‘But love, you’ve already drawn Bill’s, it’s right here----’ What he saw next, made him drop the gingerbread man.

BABY

The abrupt cut off had let you know that George had seen what was written on the cookie.

You placed the icing down on the table, and slowly faced him.

It was rare to see George speechless. It was hard for a talkative, energetic and chaotic person like him to catch off guard. So, when you do encounter the scarce opportunity like this, you cherish it.

The few times that was tongue tied was your first kiss, you accidentally hitting him too hard with a bludger, when walking down the aisle and now.

All you could do was smile and wait for him to fully digest the news.

‘ba….bab…baby.’ George finally manged to muster out, though softly like a whisper. Like he couldn’t believe that it was real. Like if were to speak any louder, he would wake up from this wonderful dream. ‘baby, y/n.’ He looks straight into your eyes, he faces hopeful. ‘Is this real? You’re not joking right? Please y/n, tell me you’re not joking.’

Holding his hands, you pull him closer. ‘It’s all real Georgie. You’re going to be a father!’

‘I’m going to be a father.’ He exhaled. ‘I’M GOING TO BE A FATHER! WE’RE GONNA HAVE OUR OWN FAMILY!’ George beamed; he eyes starting to get watery. ‘When you find out?’

‘Just this morning, at St.Mungo’s. ’ You confessed. ‘I thought it was just some common flu that keeps coming back, but instead it was actually morning sickness.’

‘Well I’m glad that you and the baby are alright.’ You wiped away the tears the escaped. ‘We’re having a baby!’

When words cannot fully express how he feels, George expresses himself through action.

Kissing your forehead, eyes, cheeks, neck and finally reaching your lips.

When you broke apart, you heard a crunch. And there beneath George’s foot, are the remains of a crushed-up cookie.

‘Guess I do have to draw another Bill Gingerbread man.’

 Taglist [All/General]: @ gruffle1

Special thanks for @flamingunicorn , @cuddlebuddydraco​   , @orangepumpkinpen​ and @reidandweep​ for helping me narrow down George’s scent! 

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia Reviews: The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers/A Day at the Aquarium

Last full episode before hiatus! The Kids have a sleepover in the castle that starts like the Princess Diaries 2 and ends in unspeakable horror, while the Plantars try to spend one final day together without getting sad. Sort of like everyone these days without the final part. One last ride under the cut. 

Whelp it’s the end for this batch of episodes which is sad, and i’ll genuinely miss covering these every week. Yeah I have other coverage incoming with Ducktales coming back, eeeee, and current Loud House coverage.. but it was still nice to have something to cover this summer and something to watch every week during this blighted year, as i’ve mentioned before there weren’t any BAD episodes just hard to cover ones and I think by the end I figured out how to do that.. mostly by stopping straight up recaps for more condensed ones. Point is I had fun, grew as a reviewer, and it was a good way to kill a few saturdays, sundays and one or two mondays, and that ain’t bad at all. So before we come back for halloween, let’s send off weekly amphibia coverage in style for now, unless it comes back in November and I look stupid, with this week. Let’s go. 

The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers

Well this one took a turn. It was also an excellent one as we got more insight into Marcy and Anne’s friendship with Sasha, and some truly excellent horror. Yes, horror.  The Plantar kids head to the castle for the evening for a Sleepover. Turns out the king finally did find something, as did Marcy who’s playing coy about what they found in the hidden library I forgot to mention last time because I was covering 4 episodes at once. Anyway King Keith David has a meeting with them tommorow. So the kids are staying with Marcie to have a fun night together while Hop Pop has a night without the kids to get something head to toe.. it’s better not to ask. They also annoy Olivia who goes off to drink.. juice. Yes the hard juice that comes with a lemon wedge and speedoed servant newt. 

It’s also our ambigously gay duo’s first sleepover without Sasha, but their confident they can do this themselves while Sprig is hoping i’tll be good as his first sleepover (And has a creepy closeup about formative memories) Cue a fun montage of everryone annoying olivia and getting into hyjinks round the castle from sillys tring, which is shot from critters, to painting moustaches. It’s fun stuff.  Then we go from fun stuff to...

As , in order to stay awake, as being the bastion of pleasantness she is Sasha refused to let them sleep till sunrise, Marcy and Anne initate a SCARE DARE! A SCARE DARE! is a scary dare where the person who dosen’t complete it goes in the book of losers. Which of course was Sasha’s idea, both in general concept and the dares done. What a well adjusted young lady!  So naturally our heroes go into the basment they were told to stay out of. They get pass Lady Olvia because she’s passed out drunk on hard lemonade, living the dream as it were. ,Anyway they.  find a bunch of tombstones, and then Marcy and Anne taking a selfie (Say desecration) wakes the dead... all because they were both playing chicken. One has to imagine how the kids talking with hop pop would go

So yeah the ghostly horror terrors chase the kids, who somehow end up in Marcy’s room. So she just has a passage from a floating graveyard contaning horrifying eldtirch ghosts to her room.. a room the king put in for her. Someone protect this child. 

So our heroes soon have to deal with the ghosts but luckily sprig’s mirror catching it reveals the mirrors, which were foreshadowed earlier by a hall of mirrors leading into the corpse room, making the ghosts solid and allowing our heroes to fight htem back. Our heroes are exausted, Marcy and Anne reveal that they also chickend out on the scare dare so it’s okay, and Oliva arrives. It’s go time.  Final Thoughts: A fun episode that quickly pivots into a great and nightmare inducing one perfect for spooky season coming up soon. I do generally wonder just WHAT those things are, and it’s great setup for whatever’s abotu to come. And while I didn’t mention it in the recap we also get sprig finding some sort of painting and it being of the king, a toad and a frog.. we don’t get to see it clearly so it could be someone else.. but.. it’s clear the king likely has ties to what happened before. But what DID happen before? what are those ghost things? what’s the king’s angle? 

Yeah I have no answers for now on what the king’s plan is, or how inocent he is or if that’s his dad, just that something’s clearly wrong. And the omonious chess metaphor told us that.. yeah I do think that bit was kind of a mistake as otherwise while we’d probably still question the king, we would be more conflicted as evidence piled up versus “yeah something’s clearly wrong. “ Then again we genuiely don’t know what his motives or plan is or how well intentioned he is or anything other than he SEEMS nice, and that said game could be a necessary evil for all we know. We just don’t have enough information, even with the ominus bits, to truly know what’s going on and what kind of villian the king is. If he is one at all the show could pull a massive swerve on us.. I mean I doubt it he probably is evil, but I wouldn’t put it past the show. For now let’s move on so I can do more wheel spinning and what not...

Day at the Aquarium

So it’s time for another audience with the king. Turns out he and Mar-mar found out a LOT. Or Marcy did at least, as the above makes clear the king may of known ALL OF THIS already, and just needed Marcy and Anne to think he didn’t long enough for his evil plans. But we do learn a LOT about the gems, the box, and what it does as well as how to fix it... 

So let’s not waste time since some of you probably don’t have episode acess this early and want to know: Turns out the calamity box is an interdimensional travel device, and, as far as the king tells us anyway, the king’s ancestors went around from world to world as explorers, possibly the group seen in the picture and just as likely the king himself hiding his role in things. Now how much of the explorer part is TRUE remains up in the air, especially since history also painted Columbus an explorer, including when I was in school, and not you know.. an idiot and a colonizing bastard. History is written by the winners after all so it’s hard to know what’s true, only that the book is likely real: While the king COULD’VE planted it to lead marcy, or had one made up, a fake would’ve been spotted immeditly as we’ve established Marcy is a master detective with batman level deductive skills. Or Elongated Man but I wanted most of you to get the refrence and his adaptation versoins so far haven’t been the kindest to ralph. Anyways, point is that con wouldn’t work on her so the book IS real, as is it’s info on the box.. i’ts just hard to tell what was left out or if this was written before utter diastaer and apocalypse insued. After all Gravity Falls Journal 3 is all fine and dandy about bill before the giant passage about bill not being trusted written in blood and Ford going into a paranoid tailspin after realizing his friend is actually a horrifing monster, literally and figuratively, so we don’t know WHAT could’ve been hidden in a nother book the king could’ve removed at any time before  Marcy got there or while she was away on a mission.  But yeah while we know there’s probably more to it this is sitll big information, the box connecting to 4 other worlds other than amphibia, which not only opens up the story possiblities but the fan fiction, and that each of the gems can be recharged at three temples, each one of the gems responding to a diffrent trait judging by the symbols, each representing our girls; Purple is strength, and thus sasha, Blue is Heart, Anne, and Green is Brains, Marcy. I do like thisd as it tells us more but only raises further questions, hooking the audience more. It’s great stuff. But our heroines now have a goal.. but unforutnately the Plantars need to go back and Anne can’t go with as Marcy wants her close. It’s harvest season soon and the Plantars have been away long enough. So they have one last day, though both marcy and the king are apologetic and the king offers them a large tissue and upon getting no response just gives it to them as next time we see them with it. it’s both a great gag, and a nice show of kindess from the king and possible diabolical mastermind. 

So the Plantars decide to spend their final day with Anne at the aquarium, as it always cheered her up. This goes south as eveyrhting from the eels to the giant kraken to the coral reminds them of their past and leaves the poor group sobbing. Even a water show goes sideways as Sprig sees an eel, but it does lead to the group fighting off the stingrays at the show in an utterly stunning fight sequence. Not the best i’ve seen this month.. but only because I binged what I missed of rise of the tmnt this month and that show’s final figh tis an utter showstopper, as are most of it’s fight, but this is easily on par with most of them. Fluid, well done and emotoinal. Our heroes get thrown out of course, but the thought counts and they decide one last throughly them memory is better than nothing.  The final scene is naturally an utter gut punch as we get tearfull goodbyes (sprig and anne forever). Their crying, i’m crying we’re all crying and Hop Pop promises they’ll see each other again. Because family always finds each other. My heart.. it’s too full. here have an apporiate song...

Let’s see how i’m doing. 

Yeah so two things: I’m not going to be able to stop sobbing thinking of this scene so let’s move on and how have I only NOW refrenced gilmore girls on this blog?

But yeah the scene is utterly moving as the Plantars leave and Marcy realises something. She likely was keeping Anne close because she just got her back... but realizes she’s being selfish. It’s not SAID on screen but it’s clear both in Hailey’s voice acting and from the animation what’s going through her head. It’s utterly captivating stuff. So she tells Anne to go with them.. offically because they should have someone they can trust keep an eye on the box, which is a good idea honestly given just giving it to a royal messenger is just asking for it to be stolen. So Marcy will stay behind and prepare, and since she mentioned it before likekly try to find Sasha as she earlier stated they HAVE to find her.. and given what we see with the recharging that’s both because she misses her friend no matter what she’s done, and because she’s vitally important, while Anne goes with the Plantars to get the box and have some more time before they say goodbye forever, with Marcy coming to wartwood to pick it and anne up for the first temple. Because nothing terrible’s ever happened when a plucky youth with a sword went to three seperate temples, especially involving a guy with a beard and full plate armor. 

Marcy stares off, sad her friend and possible crush is gone.. but unederstanding that this is what she needs, and that she can’t hold her here.. Anne needs to see her family off.. and we get a tearful reunion as Anne chases after them, passing her friends from “Scavenger Hunt”, and reunites with her family. But of course we can’t end on a happy moment, as we cut back to Marcy whose utterly sad.. and the King who says he has a proposition for her, one she’ll find most agreable. 

But yeah we end on that bit of ominus as we close till october. 

Final Thoughts: Yeah if it wasn’t obvious this was a great one. Great plot progression, great animation, great emotional hook, good jokes which I dind’t get into for time, and tons of stuff to leave fans wanting more just before the break, but without a HUGE cliffhanger. Sure we don’t know what the King’s planning, but that aside our heroes are still together outside of marcy, and we haave a lot to look forward to whenever the show gets back. I’m hyped. Your hyped. IT’s a good note to go out on, especially since last weeks eps were also excellent and it looks like things are about to pick up. When next we meet it’s an inconsequential, probably, anthology episode, though it should be fun, then whenever new episodes return, wether it be just in november or more likely in February, our heroes return to wartwood! And we’ll find out what everyone’s been up to. Hopefully Ivy didn’t leave sprig. We’ll see. Until then, you can check out this blog for more recaps, as I said i’m covering ducktales as it comes back monday and loud house whenever I can get my meat hooks on the new episodes, and until then say safe and go team venture!

[rosenallies]

If it inspires you maybe 14 with bratpack? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

14. "Let me take care of things for once, alright?"

So I have no idea how they do things for cdr in terms of if they film all the top 3 winning and then show the actual winner’s clip when the episode airs or what but for the sake of this let’s pretend that they definitely do<3 also it’s cc obviously but I’m using she/her pronouns for Kenny and synth because drag <3

——

Kendall’s body felt heavy as she clapped for Icesis, the smile on her face real as she watched her friend’s dream come true, but her head still spun, reeling at the fact that it was over for her. She’d come all this way with nothing but a single win to show for it. She never wanted to feel this way, Kendall Gender was a lot of things, but a sore loser she wasn’t. But it still stung to watch someone else walk away with something she had wanted so badly. If it wasn’t her, she had wanted it to be one of her partners, but they all failed in one aspect or another and not a single one of them would be taking home the crown.

Kendall’s eyes scanned the audience, her body softening when she laid eyes on Synthia and Gia,both standing proudly next to each other and waving to Kendall as if she had won. The disappointment she felt for herself dissipated, and was replaced with disappointment for letting her partners down. She was the last one standing and she still couldn’t follow through, she couldn’t imagine how disappointed they’d be in her.

The rest of the evening went smoothly for the most part. Interviewer after interviewer asked everyone the same set of questions, which was good for Kendall because that meant she could go on autopilot and just keep recycling the same answers until the end of the night when she found herself alone in the dressing room after Icesis and Pythia and probably mostly everyone else went off to party.

Kendall stared back at herself in the lit mirror, focusing on each detail of her face until a soft knock sounded at the door and Synthia and Gia popped their heads in.

“Hey superstar,” Gia said with a smile on their painted face.

Kendall snorted. “Hardly. How come you guys aren’t going out? I don’t mind going home alone.”

Synthia frowned and walked over to Kendall, took her face in her soft hands and kissed her on the lips gently.

“Knock it off, of course we don’t want to leave you. How are you doing? Are you ok?”

Kendall sighed, the same sigh that was her go-to whenever she wasn’t okay but was desperately trying to be. “I’m okay,” she turned to Gia, “were you ok? You know, not being up there after getting so close?”

Gia shrugged. “It is what it is,” they replied with a smile, though it seemed just as feigned as the smile Kendall wore.

Synthia grabbed Gia’s hand and pulled them closer, wrapping her arms around both their waists and squeezing them closer.

“Now, I’m a little offended that no ones asked if I’m alright not being up there, which is so clearly deserved just from my runways alone.”

Kendall and Gia both cracked a smile, Gia nuzzling up to Synthia and placing a kiss on her collarbone. “You deserved to be up there too, baby.”

Synthia hummed. “Thank you, but it’s okay, I came to terms with it in the weeks I spent alone in the house after going home before the both of you. Now, what’s gonna happen is we’re gonna go back to the hotel, Kendall’s room because they gave the top 3 suites when all the rest of us got was a double bed and we’ll order room service and take a nice bath together, okay?”

Kendall shook her head. “It’s okay, baby, we’re fine.”

Gia nodded in agreement. “We’re okay. Promise.”

“You guys always take such good care of me. Let me take care of things for once, alright?”

Kendall and Gia shared a look, both reluctant to accept Synthia’s doting when they were both so used to taking care of her. It was usually Synthia who sought out their caring and they’d give it to her with no questions asked, but it felt weird to he only the opposite end.

“But, baby,” Kendall cooed, wrapping a hand around her cinched waist.

She pulled away, a stern look on her pretty made-up face. “No buts I’m taking care of the both of you tonight, okay? Let me spoil my loves.”

Gia shrugged. “A massage does sound nice. Synthia has magic hands.”

Synthia stood up and kissed their cheek softly. “Thank you, Gi. How about you, Kenny? Please let me take care of you, it’s okay that you’re upset.”

Kendall, though still reluctant nodded. “Okay, fine. But I’m not upset about not winning, I’m just tired after standing up all day in heels.”

Synthia smiled, placing a kiss on Kendall’s cheek too, even if she wouldn’t admit she was upset, Synthia at least could try her best to make him feel better. “Whatever you say, baby, now let’s get out of here,” she replied, a gentle hand on Kendall’s lower back leading her outside of the venue.

[rhythmicpirate]

BFB AU where everything is the same until...

4:Now form 8 teams of 8! 8-ball:It’s to bad I don’t care about that number at all. Basketball:Wanna be on the same team because we’re both balls?

8-ball:Okay, but let’s not get anymore balls, 2 is enough. Needle:Hey Loser, wanna join my team? originally Coiny, Pin and Firey were gonna be in it but when those 2 started slapping I knew it would never work. Loser:Sure! Eggy:But what about me? Cake:Loser you said you were gonna be with me! Needle:There’s still plenty of spots left you guys. Loser:Yeah, why don’t we just be on the same team? Those five:*gasp* Loser, Loser, loser! Loser:There’s enough of me to go around. Snowball:Hey Pie, how many people have you killed? Pie:Uh...none? Snowball:Wimp. Lightning:Hold on, did you say that you didn’t kill anyone? I’ve killed, sadly dozens. Snowball:I knew I’d find a powerful teammate soon enough! We’re gonna go far lightning we’re gonna go so-*gets zapped* Lightning:I don’t want to be on your team, I wanna be on Pie’s team so I can learn not to kill anyone. Liy:Me too. I’ve killed before but it was extremely disturbing. Can the two of us be on your team? We wanna learn how to prevent death instead of causing it. Black Hole:Oh, oh, please show me as well. Pie:Sounds like a good idea as any. Firey:Speaking of good ideas, wouldn’t it be nice to have the winner of the original BFDI on your team. Tree:I agree and we need more people who are against murder for no good reason. Liy:Join us then! Pillow:Did someone say killing? Snowball:Noooooooooooooooo Pillow:Oh ok. Barf Bag:Lollipop I know you think my brain has been destroyed but I think I can prove my true abilities if we’re on the same team. Lollipop:How can you prove yourself if your’e truly infected. Barf Bag:*gasps* Oh my sap! Clock:Trust me, she isn’t worth your time. Join my team instead. Come join my team with Rocky. Clearly we don’t have a problem with barf. Barf Bag:You know what? I think I will. Pencil:All right FreeSmart, who are our 2 other members? Bubble:You mean 3 other members, since I’m just a Bember to you I might as well just leave to find a completly diffrent team. Pencil:Huh? Book, try to presuade her otherwise. Book:Actually, I think she may have a point. Your’e letting 2 complete strangers become members right away and...I dunno, it just seems like this team is starting to become toxic. Maybe we should play on diffrent teams for now. Ice Cube:Yeah. Book:I’m gonna join Pillows team, Ice Cube you wanna join? Ice Cube:No. Bubble:Me either, sorry book but I’m just worried she’d pop me. Pencil & Match:So your’e staying. Bubble:No. Pencil & Match:AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Dora:Dadadadadadadadada. (I wanna be on Geletains team, he looks like an island and smells just as delicious.) Geletain:Uh...thanks? Gaty:Stapey join my team. Stapey:Okay! Can I bring Foldy here too? Gaty:Sure, the more friends the merrier! Leafy:Hmmmm....I wanna help all the people who need a helping hand. And maybe you four are just the right people (Nickel, Fanny, Naily & Cloudy). Nickel:Let me geuss it’s because we don’t have hands? Leafy:Woody, you know how I told you how “there’s a life out there to enjoy so enjoy it” back in episode 1 part 1? Well I’m gonna help you enjoy that life! Bubble! I’ll help you too! Bubble:Yoylecake! Leafy:So long as you promise not to get rid of any of my gifts again. Bubble:Oh...okay. Yellow Face:Pillow, Puffball join now. Puffball:Okay Do-kay. Yellow Face:Pillow, we’d kill to have you on here. Pillow:Now that time I definitely heard you say killing. Lollipop:I’m going to follow her and discuss her so called “research”. Fries:Yellow Face, I really admire what you just did there. You’ve got amazing skills of persuasion! Puffball let’s join this team. Puffball:I am on this team. Fries:See what I mean? Snowball:You there, Pin. I know you popped Bubble back in episode 1, and in both parts too. Pin:Yeah? What about it? Snowball:You now legally have to join my team. Pin:Fine, but your’e getting Coiny too. Snowball:Great, we’ll have our own little slap man. And we don’t have any armless contestants. Coiny:Actually I just merged this team with Foldy & Gatey who have no arms, Stapey who has no legs and Bell who has neither. Braclety:Oh yeah, it’s time to join Ice Cube’s team and make my dreams come true. Gelatin:Ice Cube just joined our team...but there’s still 5 empty spots! Ice Cube:Yeah! Braclety:Yay! *hugs Ice Cube* Firey Jr:Dang it, I was gonna grab her while she was incapacitated. Grassy:No one picked me. Firey Jr.:That’s a great idea! Bomby I!....Bomby? Golf Ball:Based on my caculations we need at least 2 mechanical minds, to outsmart the other teams which are lacking in mechanical minds. TV, Roboty and Remote, you’ve been selected by my formula to form a successful team. Robot Flower:You’ve got one mechanical mind already, bossy bot. Golf Ball:And that’s why I’m not choosing you. Robot Flower:I’m gonna join 8-Balls team with David instead. David:Aw, seriously? Gelatin:Hey Donut wanna join our team? Donut:Sure whatever. Spongy:I’m gonna join this team too. Most of the members here haven’t called me fat. Marker:I’ll follow Spongy! Pen:Okay guys we need to stick together. Eraser:This dude is right! Pen:We need to find a team with 3 slots open or else we’re gonna split up. We have to stick together. Braclety:I can’t believe I got Ice Cube on my team. I still can’t believe this isn’t a prank. Blocky:Now that’s the team for me. Pen:Okay we lost Blocky, but you and I won’t split will we? Eraser:Of course not! Yellow Face:Homm! Free Food People! Eraser:And I think I know just the team for us. *Bomby joins Leafy team and Book joins Yellow Faces* Flower:Oh no! The teams are filling up! Hmmm...well I really want Loser on my team because he’s popular but I also really want Ruby on my team ‘cause she saw how beautiful I am. I choose both! Match:Crudiously, like Needy? *gets slapped* Needle:Don’t call me Needy. 8-Ball:Hey Clock, wanna merge our teams into one since they wanted 8 teams of 8 and not 9? I don’t really care for 9 either. Clock:Okay then, now we just need a one more member. *Saw, Bottle, Taco and Balloony remain* Basketball:I think we should avoid Saw, she might be a bit to dangerous. Liy:We’ll just be taking her then so she can learn to prevent death. Saw:Great! Now I’m on a team of 8! Thank goodness I can say 8 normally. Robot Flower:And Balloony would pop way to easily, we need someone more durable. Barf Bag:But aren’t all the remaining members more durable? Bottle:I may not be durabble but I am lovebale! 8-Ball:Fair point, let’s take her because no one else probally will. Bottle:Thanks! Naily:Yeah, you nailed it! Ballooony:And I’ll take Balloony, because at least he has arms! Tennis Ball:I’m gonna take Taco because I picked the Taco contest in Vomitaco. Remote:Yay! We got all 8 teams of eight done! Pen:Okay so these teams need names. Tree:Well...I don’t have any ideas. Liy:Well this team mostly formed to avoid causing death. Pie:Uh-huh. Lightning:But what would be a good team name for Death Prevention and Creating Trust? Firey:*gasps!* Wait a minute, abbreviate the later four worlds and you get:

DEATH P.A.C.T

Remote:Oh wow, that’s a pretty good team name. Golf Ball:Hmmm, if we want to win then our team name must have a better name then that.

A Better Name then That

Golf Ball:I’ll have to remember to think before I speak in the future in case there is a hypothetical split in the series. Donut:Okay our team name has to be something solid, that stands out and isn’t dumb. Spongy:I agree. Geletain:I agree, We can’t ened up with something lame! Marker:Well since this team formed because Braclety wanted to be on a team with her biggest idol maybe we should go with... Braceletty:*gasp*

TEAM ICE CUBE!

Marker:You took the words right out of my mouth. Yellow Face:Nya...hmm. Eraser:What happened to the free food? Pen:What free food? Yellow Face:Mmmmm. Eraser:Where is the Free Food? Yellow Face:Mmmm...Free Food!

FREE FOOD

Pen:Woah, we’re the free food. Cake:Let’s be called the Losers! Pencil:No, we’re like the alliance right? Match:OMG that is so true! Ruby:That’s such a good observation pence-pence. Flower:Observe me please! Eggy:No observe me and my spots. Needle:There’s other people here to you know, and you call me Needy. Loser:Let’s compromise, let’s take the losers and take the alliance to get...

Losers’ Alliance!

Cake:It’s pronouced Loser’s All-lie-ance Woody:Eh-heh? Fanny:Woody is right. Everyone else is getting their names done fast. I hate it when people rush but I hate being last even more. Leafy:Fanny, take your negative attitude out the window. Cloudy:I don’t have my collection with me so she can’t. Leafy:Regardless, that’s not even what Woody is saying. Tell me agian Woody. Woody:Shashashashashashashasha. Leafy:That’s a catch name. Cloudy:I know something we can add. Shashashashashashashasha. Nickel:That is the perfect name! Bomby:Yeah! Shashashashashashashasha. Fanny:So many meanings which I don’t hate that much! Naily:Hm! Bubble get this to four. Bubble:Okay! Shashashashashashashasha.

Shashashashashashashasha

*The members of 8-balls and Clocks team are arguing.* 4:Do you have a team name? Clock:Can you just give us a Minute.

A Minute

David:Aw seriosuly? Bell:Aw ding-dong, looks like we’re the last to finnish! Stapey:Hey don’t view it as a bad thing Bell. Just view it as saving the best for last. Foldy:Don’t you mean saving the best 4 last. Snowball:That actually sounds like a good team name. At least the first part. Pin:So we’re the Best 4 Last then?

The Best 4 Last

4:So I believe you eight teams are all set to go. *Book, Saw and Teardrop wave their arms other wise* Pillow:Yep! Theyr’e all set to go! 4:That’s good.

Eraser:...Well isn’t it time to start the first contest? Blocky:Wait why are my pals over there while I’m over here? Pen:Gee, I sure wonder. Golf Ball:But I believe Eraser is right. I have deduced that yes, it IS time to start the first contest.

(To be contiued in part 2)

[darken-wolf]

Cheering up

THIS IS FOR ANYONE WHO NEEDS CHEERING UP. I’VE SEEN SO MANY PEOPLE FEELING DOWN. SO HERE YOU ALL GO! IT’S LONG SO ENJOY MY FRIENDS. <3 @setsuna-no-ai @anime-music-ships @choconanime

You let a sigh out as you finish your breakfast Leaning back in your seat you think about what you need to do today. You don’t know why, but you weren’t feeling yourself today. All you wanted to do was to go to your room and stay there for the rest of the day, but you knew you shouldn’t. 

“You okay, my dear?” Your head jolts up, seeing Lilia sitting in front of you with his tea in his hand.

You give him a smile trying to hide your emotions. “I’m fine, going to go study in the library today.” You spoke as you get up.

“You sure? we can hang out if you want.” Lilia spoke, looking at you concerned.

You shake your head. You knew he had his own homework to do so you didn’t want to bother him. “Don’t worry.”

You walk away and grab your school bag and walk out to the library. Maybe a little work would bring your spirits up. You walk around finding a corner to keep yourself apart from others before seeing your books out.

It was thirty minutes of studying, and you realize your mind was wandering towards everything else. You let a groan come out, and lean back in your chair staring up at the ceiling. You thought you were still by yourself before hearing your name.

“Y/N, there you are.” You glance over to see Azul giving you a warm smile.

You give him a confused look not knowing why he’s here. You scan the room instantly wondering if this was a joke or something. 

“You’re wondering what I’m doing here, aren’t you?” You look at him and nods not wanting to sign any contracts today.

“No contracts.” You said as you look back to your books.

“Why don’t you take a break and come have some tea with me.” Azul reaches his hand out to you, and you quickly shake your head not knowing the catch.

“No thanks.”

“No contracts, I swear.” Azul takes his hat off and places it on his chest. “Now, pack your things and let us go.”

You give him one more concerning look. It wouldn’t hurt to get some tea with someone. You nod towards him and start putting your books away. You sling your bag over your shoulder only to get it taken away from Azul.

“I’ll hold it for you, my dear.” Azul smiles, putting his hat back on.

You nod, and he places a hand on your back leading you towards their cafe.

You both take a step in the cafe, and Azul speaks making the twins look over. “Jade, Floyd.”

“Yes, sir?” Floyd pops up in front of them making you jump. Floyd spots you and a grin pop on his face. 

“Y/N, Welcome.” You wave at him nodding.

 “Floyd, give up the finest cake we have. Jade, make us some tea.” Azul spoke. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, taking you to a table and pulls the chair for you.

“Thanks.” You blush and takes a seat.

You weren’t sure, but he was acting too nice. Usually, it’s always to form a contract, but you shrug it off.

Your sadness was slowly lifting. You don’t know why, but Floyd and Jade made you laugh at your visit. The tea was amazing, and the cake was amazing. You were finally able to get away from them saying you needing more studying, but you decided to head back to the dorm.

A presence of two people came out of nowhere making you jump. Turning around quickly, you see Cater and Ace grinning at you.

“Y/N! We were expecting you.” Cater grins taking your bag giving it to Ace.

“Huh?” You were confused looking at him. Cater grabs your hand, pulling you after him.

“The tea party is about to start.” Cater smiles.

“Wait, I was on my way to my dorm.” You try to pull your hand away, but Cater had a firm grip on your wrist.

You give up not knowing what to do, you weren’t expecting to go to any tea party. “Everyone will be happy you come.” Ace nods holding your bag close to him as you three made your way to Heartslabyul dorm.

“There you two are! where have you been?” Deuce speaks once they enter the dorm.

“We told you.” Cater spoke, and lets go of your wrist.

“Riddle’s getting angry you’re late. You know you shouldn’t be late for the tea party.”

“We have our reasons.” Ace spoke.

“Oh thank god you’re here,” Trey walks out seeing them.

You noticed they were bickering, and you didn’t know what to do. You were about to leave without your bag before hearing Riddles voice echoing through the room.

“What is with this damn arguing!” The room got silent, and everyone turns to Riddle who walks in with an irritated look on his face.

“S-Sir, I apologize for our foolishness.” Trey bows.

Riddle’s gaze around at each one of them until he meets your gaze. You weren’t sure what he was going to say, you weren't supposed to be in the dorm without his permission, and you go to explain until he speaks.

“There’s our guest of honor.” Riddle pushes past the others and opens his arms towards you.

You give him a confused look before he hugs you and wraps his arm around your waist. “Now that’s Y/N is here, let’s get the tea party started.”

“Wait, what?” you couldn’t say anything while Riddle speaks to the others.

While Riddle shows you your seat, you can hear the other talking.

“What’s going on?” Trey asks.

“We’ll tell you later.” You couldn’t hear the rest of the conversations as Riddle claps his hands together making the four quickly take their seats.

____

How you got out of the tea party was a Miracle. Everyone wanted you to say longer. You didn’t mind. They were making you laugh from their arguing on who’s better at magic. Thinking about at that conversation, a chuckle comes out.

“What’s so funny Y/N?” You look up to see both Jamil and Kamil.

By looking at them, you knew you may get pulled in what they want to do.

“I was thinking about something. What are you two up to this fine afternoon?” You asked curiously. At this point, you’re up for anything to make you laugh.

“Leona walk talking shit about us to some of our dorm members. We’re going to teach them a lesson.” Kamil spoke, crossing his arms.

“Isn’t that a bad idea. Especially since it’s Leona.” You said a little worried.

“What do you mean it’s Leona? I can beat him at anything!” Kamil says shaking his fists towards you.

You let a slight chuckle, and you rub the back of your head. “I-I mean you can totally take him.”

“Yeah, he can,” Jamil spoke nodding.

“What are you planning on doing?” You ask, tilting your head.

“We’ll find out when I find him,” Kamil spoke, and walks off.

“Care you join us, Y/N?” Jamil asks. “I may need some help if it gets out of hand.”

“Sure why not.” You shrug. You knew this was going to be interesting.

The three of you find Leona eating outside with the other two talking. The moment Kamil sees him, he gets angry and shouts over to him.

“Leona! How dare you!” Kamil storms over.

You and Jamil give each other a worried look and follows him.

“Oh, look who it is.” Leona laughs before spotting you.

“Y/N, come sit with us.” Leona pats the seat smiling.

“Oh, like she would sit with a bunch of losers,” Jamil spoke, crossing his arms.

“Wait, don’t bring me into this!” Your eyes widen, shaking your head.

“Hey! We’re no losers! I got a better score on the magic quiz yesterday!” Ruggie jumps up starting to get angry.

“I know you did.” You spoke about to apologize until Jamil speaks.

“I challenge you to a duel!” He points at Leona who raises his eyebrow at him and smirks.

“We all know who’s going to win.” Leona scoffs.

“Yeah, I am.”

“In your dreams pretty boy.” Leona shoots a glare at him and stands up.

“Why don’t we talk about this.” You spoke, not wanting a fight to happen.

“Scared that you’ll lose?” Ruggie asks, raising his eyebrow.

You were about to go off on him until Jemil buts in.

“A three-v-three duel. The winner is the strongest dorm.” He smiles.

“I’m not even part of your dorm!” You spoke, looking at him.

“We need a third member. You’re representing our dorm today.” Jemil claps his hands together, “Now, let’s get started.”

You didn’t know why, but the thrill of an actual duel happening made you excited.

____

You slump down on the bench next to Professor Trein’s office. You let a sigh out glad to be out of his office.

Not even five minutes into the duel, Professor Trein arrives breaking up the fight. It all ended up with everyone in the dirt followed by a lecture of why they shouldn’t have fought.

You look at the door of the office as you hear his voice. You were so glad he let you out with a warning. It was between dorms, he told you not to get in between the two, but you had no choice though. You apologized, and now you’re here.

“My, my, such a dirty apple I see.” It was Vil, you recognized his voice instantly.

“I got into a duel.” You rub the back of your head. “Sort of.”

“Tsk, tsk, this will not do my apple. Come on.” Vil motions for you to follow him.

“What? I don’t want to bother you.” You shake your head as you stand up.

“You’re not a both Y/N, besides, we love to pamper you. Now, come, come.” Vil looks you up and down and nods. “I’ll have Rook draw you a bath, and we will handle the rest.”

You go to argue but stop. You do enjoy spending time with Vil and them. They always treat you to a spa day. You get to use their new creations that either go right or wrong. Either way, you always leave their dorm feeling wonderful.

“Actually, that will be great of you, Vil, thank you.” You smile and agrees as you start to follow.

“Thought so, we have a few new products we would like you to try. They’re made for you.” A faint blush formed on your face hearing that.

“R-Really? You didn’t have to.” You didn’t hear him say anything as both you of you are walking.

You let a smile out already knowing what he would say if he opened his mouth and rolled with it. A little spa doesn’t hurt anyone.

____

You stretch your bones as Vil walks you out. A huge smile on your face.

“There’s that splendid smile I’ve been looking for.” Vil smiles towards you.

You gaze over to him with and nods. “I’ve enjoyed the pamper Vil. I’m glad your new creations were perfect.”

“I wasn’t worried at all.“ Vil takes a strand of your hair and takes a whiff. “It's not apples, but it’s sweet for a person like you Y/N.” You blush seeing him giving you an amusing look.

“Th-Thanks.” You look away from his gaze and that made him laugh.

“Now, now, don’t act that way,” Vil spoke forcing you to look at him. “I didn’t make that stuff only for you. I added a little something for a special someone of yours.” Vil winks at you and your whole face turn red.

“Wh-What did you do? I-” VIl hands you a bag full of the newest products he used on you.

“Here is everything for my dear apple. Only use this on rare occasions.” Vil taps on one of the small bottles giving you a wink. “A little is all you need.”

You were too flustered to speak. He easily sent you on your way back and you slowly walked back thinking about what he said.

You immediately shake your head, trying to get everything out of your head. You keep at a decent pace, not in a hurry to get to the dorm. Everyone made your day. There were only two people you didn’t hear from.

You stop wondering where Ortho and Idia are. As you turn around you hear Ortho out to you. Looking over, you see Ortho running up to you.

“Ortho, evening.” You smile.

“Y/N! I found you!” He spoke, holding a piece of paper.

“What you got there?” You ask, looking between the two.

“Oh, Idia and I wrote a little something or you.” You can see the excitement in his eyes, and that made you smile at him. 

“Alright, what does it say?” You ask.

“Right,” Ortho clears his throat before holding the paper up.

“You brought us sunshine when we are drowning We gave you your smile When you were frowning.”

You open your mouth and closes it. You feel your chest tighten and you didn’t know why. Maybe it was because it was Ortho who spoke the poem. You couldn’t help but grins at him.

“That was lovely, Ortho, you and your brother did amazing.” You say starting to tear up. You quickly wipe the tears that are about to drop and put the bag down.

“Come give me a hug.” You open your arms and Ortho quickly goes into them.

You didn’t realize how adorable Ortho was until now. You don’t know how much blushing you’ve done today, but hearing Ortho’s and Idia’s poem filled your heart with joy.

“Thank your brother for me.” You spoke, pulling away from him. You see his eyes gleam, and he nods.

“It’s great that you like it Y/N! Did you have a good day?” He tilts his head, and you nod.

“I did, a wonderful day.” You smile.

He gives you the poem and wishes him farewell as he walks back to his dorm. You look down at the poem and reading it made you smile more.

You finally enter your dorm after a long eventful day and see the unexpected. 

All members were waiting for you. Drinks, balloons, food, cake everything for a party. You blink confused before Malleus speaks.

“I see you had an eventful day, Y/N. Let’s end it right with a party.” Malleus walks over taking your bag from your hands.

You didn’t know what to say so you nod. You take a deep breath wondering why everyone did this for you.

You talk to Silver for a while before he goes to freshen his drink and you are talking to Sebek. All you two talked about was your lessons and you nod talking about you need to study more for class. Then it hits you.

“Oh, no. I left my bag at Heartslabyul dorm!” You start to panic until seeing your bag in front of your face.

“Cater came by to give it to you.” You hear Lilia’s voice by your ear, and you squeal turning at him.

“Don’t do that!’ You shout, feeling your face burning.

Lilia laughs and shakes his head before placing the bag on the side table. “You’re so cute, you know that?”

You turn your head away from him before he wraps his arms around your waist.

“You told everyone I was feeling down didn’t you?” You ask tilting your head.

“Huh? What do you mean?” You see the confusion on his face, but you knew he was playing with you.

“Thank you.” You spoke smiling at him kissing his cheek.

He nuzzles into your neck and takes a deep breath. A shiver runs down your back and goes to push him away from the closeness between the two, but he tightens his grip on you.

“Sweet.” He takes another deep breath before looking at you. “Vil’s creation?”

You nod at him. He nods going back to your neck and places kisses. You bite your lip and looks at him.

“I need to thank him later,” Lilia mumbles softly. “Right now, we’re going to my room. I can eat you up there.” He whispers against your neck.

Hearing that you knew what was going to happen. Whatever Vil put in the bottle, got to Lilia quickly. You nod feeling your face heat up. You really loved today. All thanks to Lilia.

[livable4all]

What is rich-washing?

INTRODUCTION

What is rich-washing? It is when cultural products and advertising make it seem like everyone is rich.

It's similar to whitewashing, where a problem is covered up and made to seem fine, when it is not; or Hollywood whitewashing, where white actors take roles over people of colour; or activist whitewashing, where white activists are spotlighted over people of colour; or greenwashing, where things are made to seem environmentally good, when they are not.

Much has been written about the media biases regarding sexism, racism, ableism, homophobia, transphobia, harmful depictions of mental illness, and other biases that stereotype or denigrate specific groups of people. However, not as much has been written about classism in North American media and entertainment.

Rich-washing is a type of classism, but it is much more than that. 

Rich-washing completely flips the facts: in the real world, there’s a huge majority of financially precarious people at the bottom and a tiny minority at the top. 

And for those at the very top in the U.S., their wealth is growing. 

Rich-washing takes the bulk of people on the planet and makes them disappear –– they are over-looked, glossed over, cropped out of the picture, written out of the story.

Rich-washing is gas-lighting on a grand scale. It is so wide-spread that it is almost invisible. Like the dish soap ad used to say, we’re soaking in it.

Because it is such a blatant misrepresentation of the world, rich-washing has many harmful effects on people and the planet. It is important to expose this type of propaganda to reduce its harm.

However, the answer is not to change entertainment to only reflect social reality. No, this is not a call for censorship, but to point out how pop-culture is currently censored by those who hold the purse strings. Ultimately, the answer is to change our social reality to make it less harsh and more livable for everyone. More on this at the end.

Pop-culture is being censored by those who hold the purse strings

Most people are not rich but you’d never know that in today’s 21st century North American TV shows, movies, print media, social media and especially advertisements. (For whatever reason, entertainment in the UK has more social realism and much less rich-washing.) 

Images of the rich and super-rich have come to dominate everything in a massive cultural mono-crop of shining hair shining teeth shining cars and shining homes filled with shining gadgets.

Yes, there are exceptions (see end). However, these exceptions are mostly “drowned in a sea of irrelevance” (as Aldous Huxley said).

Ursula Franklin called this general effect “censorship by stuffing”. Specifically with rich-washing, the ‘rich’ images are so numerous that they obliterate every other view of society. 

“It is all too easy to confuse the sheer quantity of media with diversity of viewpoint. We do not notice that essentially the same messages are being repeated.” –– Mediaspeak, 1983

Get out the corporate pressure-washer, aim it at the public, turn it on max.

Or as Bertolt Brecht said: “The powerful of the earth create the poor but they cannot bear to look at them.”

Advertisers also don’t like it when the poor look at each other.

“In the 1960s... CBS dropped a number of popular prime-time shows such as ‘The Beverly Hillbillies’ and ‘Andy Griffith’ because they attracted the wrong audience –– elderly, low income, and rural viewers. Advertisers had become keen on young, affluent urbanites…” ––Social Communication in Advertising, 1986

One of the worst things rich-washing does is make people think they are in a minority when in fact they are a huge majority.

Most Americans, for example, live paycheck-to-paycheck according to Forbes.

Rich-washing takes an enormous psychological toll because it creates the idea that lack of income is some kind of personal failing, rather than a systemic economic failing that affects many, many people. That’s one reason why unemployment is a huge factor in suicides. 

“When the money isn’t there... feelings of deprivation, personal failure, and deep psychic pain result. In a culture where consuming means so much, not having money is a profound social disability.” ––Juliet Schor, The Overspent American,1999

Rich-washing also creates social solidarity and affinity with the rich, since proximity creates affinity. 

People get used to seeing things from the point of view of the rich and may also take on the idea that their own riches are just around the corner. This has political implications (more on that below). 

In addition, it’s common for negative characteristics to be attached to people who are poor. 

Laziness, criminality, stupidity, and lack of morals, are often characteristics attributed to fictional poor people. This has real world consequences.

Film critic Roger Ebert famously said that movies create empathy.

“...the movies are like a machine that generates empathy. It lets you understand a little bit more about different hopes, aspirations, dreams and fears. It helps us to identify with the people who are sharing this journey with us."

While many movies have indeed had a positive effect on society because of this empathy effect, entertainment products can also empower negative stereotypes. And when it comes to the war on the poor, Hollywood most definitely is not on the side of the poor.

“In a lot of films, especially coming out of Hollywood, less fortunate families are portrayed as imbeciles.” ––Chris Stuckmann, movie review of Parasite, Nov. 6, 2019

“It’s a central assumption of our pop-culture that people who have nice shit are good, and people in poverty are bad.” ––Cracked Podcast, “Why pop-culture hates poor people” 2015-03-02

“There’s class warfare, all right, but it’s my class, the rich class, that’s making war, and we’re winning.” ––Warren Buffet, quoted in Plutocrats by Chrystia Freeland, 2012

With all the vilification and humiliation of poor people in pop-culture, who would want to identify with the poor and not the rich? Who would want to identify with the economic losers and not the economic winners?

“…it is the general policy of advertisers to glamorize their products, the people who buy them, and the whole American and economic scene.” ––Elmer Rice, quoted in Mediaspeak, 1983

Advertisements are highly polished rich-washing because companies need their products associated with winners not losers.

But rich-washing sells more than just consumer products.

Rich-washing sells political ideas. 

Rich-washing reinforces policies and laws that benefit those at the top of the income pyramid. So it is not surprising when we learn that income inequality and wealth concentration have been getting worse.

Income inequality and wealth concentration in the U.S. increasing since 1980s.

“Ray Dalio, the billionaire founder of the world’s biggest hedge fund, says income inequality in the U.S. has become so dire that if he were in the White House, he would declare it a national emergency.” Barron’s, 2019 

Instead of looking at the big picture and wondering why is it that so many people are poor, people assume or are told that it is their own fault if they are poor. People point fingers at themselves, at other poor people (lateral violence), but almost never up at the top.

“If there was ever a system which enchanted its subjects with dreams (of freedom, of how your success depends on yourself, of the run of luck which is just around the corner, of unconstrained pleasures…), then it is capitalism.” ––Slavoj Zizek, First as Tragedy, Then as Farce, 2009

This type of deflection ––away from the rich and scapegoating the poor–– was also behind the witch-burning craze of centuries ago. 

Anthropologist Marvin Harris in his book on “the Riddles of Culture” noted: 

 “the principal result of the witch-hunt system (aside from charred bodies) was that the poor came to believe that they were being victimized by witches and devils instead of princes and popes.” ––Mavin Harris, Cows, Pigs, Wars and Witches, 1975

It turns out that if you get people fearful of imaginary things and suspicious of their neighbours, they are less likely to join together in a peasant revolt and storm the castle, pitchforks in hand.

“It is from us and our labour that everything comes, with which They maintain Their pomp [!]” John Ball of the violent Peasant Revolt of 1381

When it comes to numbers, it should be obvious that the one percenters at the top have a precarious hold on power. 

“Why has the response to rising inequality been a drive to reduce taxes on the rich? ... It’s not a simple matter of rich people voting themselves a better deal: there just aren’t enough of them.” ––Paul Krugman, The Great Unraveling, 2003

Rich-washing protects the status-quo by reinforcing the idea that most people are rich, and if you are not, it is your own fault. Rich-washing thus deepens poverty and enlarges the holdings of the super-wealthy.

Rich-washing can also push people into unhealthy behaviours –– everything from compulsive shopping and debt, to self-medicating, and even crime.

As it turns out, when people started watching TV in America in the 1950s, a particular type of crime suddenly rose: larceny (theft of private property). Researchers attributed the increase in larceny to feelings of “relative deprivation and frustration” and that upper- and middle class lifestyles were “overwhelmingly portrayed” on TV. (Impact of the introduction of television on crime in the United States, 1982, noted in Mediaspeak, 1983)

Another troubling by-product of rich-washing is how people become very vulnerable to scams and schemes. 

“We are no longer ‘family’ we are ‘warm prospects.’ ––anonymous reviewer of False Profits, 2015

People want to believe the promises of all kinds of scammers offering them the American Dream. (Check out Season 1 of The Dream podcast). Because of the shame and pain of being poor, because of being an outcast from the perceived norm of upper-middle class consumption, people are desperate to get some dignity and hope back. Many women get into recruitment marketing for “the sense of community, friendship, and purpose that comes with being a vendor.” 

However, less than one percent of Multi-Level Marketing participants make a profit. 

“Failure and loss rates for MLMs are not comparable with legitimate small businesses, which have been found to be profitable for 39% over the lifetime of the business; whereas less than 1% of MLM participants profit. MLM makes even gambling look like a safe bet in comparison.” (PDF) John M. Taylor, 2011 Consumer Awareness Institute paper at FTC.gov.

Ironically, the stories of big-time con artists and scammers have become popular entertainment themselves and are the subject of many documentaries, movies and podcasts. 

Finally, the biggest harm from rich-washing is to the environment ––our biosphere upon which all life depends.

“Modern economies expand, but the ecosystems that provide for them do not.” ––Steven Stoll, The Great Delusion, 2008

Mass consumption is a requirement of the current economic growth model and rich-washing helps keep it all going. So we end up with things like ‘fast fashion’, disposable everything, and planned obsolescence. 

“Left unconstrained by other forces, the free-market system is one of the most restless, destructive arrangements ever contrived ––tearing down and building up, obsoleting last year’s fashions and praising this year’s, ... and scheming always to reduce the arts and sciences to sycophancy. None of which is a secret...” ––Thomas Frank, The Wrecking Crew, 2008

Rich-washing irony ––who is ruining the environment: rich or poor?

“World's richest 10% produce half of global carbon emissions, says Oxfam” ––Guardian, 2015

Rich-washing has another sadistic effect on low income people’s mental health. The world, it seems, is waking up to the potentially catastrophic harm being inflicted on the environment. And yet poor people are still made to feel like pieces of shit, even though they consume the least and do the least harm to the planet. So really... f*ck off with your spectacle of sparkling gold-plated glorification of the wealthy, please.

Three reasons for rich-washing

As previously mentioned, one reason for rich-washing is that corporations want their advertisements to reach higher income viewers. Another reason for rich-washing is for political propaganda: it protects the status quo by pushing the idea that everyone is mostly rich, and if you are poor, it is your own fault. 

A third reason for rich-washing is that media creators, like everyone else, need to survive financially. Creators need to attract viewers. In most cases, this has led to an overwhelming focus on the rich and famous.

“Sponsors prefer beautiful people in mouth-watering decor, to convey what it means to climb the socio-economic ladder...” ––Mediaspeak, 1983

Today, due to an increasingly crowded arena and variety of cultural products, this is a bigger challenge than ever before. What’s going to get people’s attention? What’s going to be popular escapism? Very often this will be flashy settings, fancy costumes, a focus on the wealthy or the royal. Just how many shows about royalty do we need? Never too many apparently. 

And when a story goes for gritty settings and characters, this usually means crime, jolting action and high conflict.

As Jerry Mander wrote in his now ancient 1977 book about television, things like violence, death, jealously, lust, materialism, conflict, the loud, the bizarre, the shocking and the superficial are easier to depict on television than their quiet, cooperative, and nuanced opposites. He laments that this is the type of world that TV “inevitably transmits”. No wonder he argued for the elimination of television.

(However, it should be noted that people used to worry about bad effects from “penny dreadfuls” and pocket-books, although Mander points out that watching TV puts people in a passive state, but reading does not.)

David Simon, creator of The Wire, one of the most critically acclaimed TV series ever made, had this to say about the impact of advertising on media: 

“And how exactly do we put Visa-wielding consumers in a buying mood when they are being reminded of how many of their countrymen - black, white and brown - have been shrugged aside by the march of unrestrained bottom-line capitalism?” ––David Simon, The Wire, Truth Be Told (book), 2009, HBO

(Read more about The Wire below, under “Exceptions”)

Another irony about media rich-washing…

Low income people often consume a lot of escapist media because it is a cheap and easy way to get a break from the health-ruining, cortisol-producing daily grind of life on poverty incomes. Fictional and fantastical worlds are often the only affordable escape for those of meagre means. Thus, it is not surprising when people get an intense attachment to their favourite entertainment if it provides them with stress release, comfort and meaning.

“… a 21-year-old in Michigan, finds it easier to get excited about playing games than his part-time job making sandwiches…” ––Andrew Yang, The War on Normal People, 2018

The opening scene of the movie Ready Player One envisions an extreme dystopian version of this. Rickety trailers in squalid surroundings are stacked sky high. Those living inside wear virtual reality goggles to escape from their over-crowded lives into limitless virtual worlds. 

It’s important to note that escapism as a form of coping with stress and trauma has its place. The answer is not to take away people’s beloved forms of escapism. (E.g. the excellent book by Raziel Reid “When Everything Feels Like the Movies”.) The answer is for humanity to strive to create a healthier and less stressful world where people don’t feel such a tremendous need to escape from reality.

But you don’t need to watch dystopian movies to see that public spaces are shrinking and becoming more unlivable. Even city benches are designed to be a miserable experience. (You know. To solve homelessness of course.) It is no wonder people stare into their screens like never before. We are ruining the public sphere and forcing people into private spaces where the goodness or badness of those places is determined by how much money you have. 

The bright glare of rich-washing might be dimming

“Am I alone in being disgusted by excessive wealth? It seems like a moral failing rather than something to celebrate or aspire to.” ––Nigel Warburton Philosophybites (twitter), January 19, 2020

In 2019 there were three movies that ripped the shiny bandaid of rich-washing propaganda off the reality of mass income inequality: Jordan Peele’s US, Bong Joon-Ho’s Parasite, and the controversial Joker... a character study only remotely related to the comic book story. 

There’s been much written and spoken about these movies already. Suffice to say that poverty and the underclasses jump out of the screen in unexpected ways and the wealthy are not shown with shining virtuous haloes.

Even the super-rich (in real life) are starting to notice the current economic system is a disaster:

“At least a dozen billionaires have made public statements that call for the super-rich to pay more in taxes.” Forbes, Oct. 15, 2019

Meanwhile, support for a universal income benefit is spreading rapidly. (Thanks in no small part to Andrew Yang.) People are calling bullshit on the idea that there can ever be a living wage job for everyone who needs one. People are also calling bullshit on the idea that only paid work is real work. There’s a huge constituency of people who provide unpaid care for their loved ones. These unpaid carers have been diminished and ignored for far too long by both the political right (who are full of cheap platitudes about ‘the family’) and the political left (who are full of out-dated platitudes about ‘the workers’). 

People are also calling bullshit on poverty itself since it’s obvious that there is more than enough for everyone on the planet to live with dignity and health. There is no reason for poverty to exist at all ––other than out-of-control greed and massive economic lies. Both of which are propped up by rich-washing.   

Because of the increasingly obvious and growing gap between the haves and have-nots, cultural products might finally be moving away from rich-washing to something similar to what Brecht brought to the theatre 100 years ago:

“...the higher world of upper class sentiments is presented from the ruthless viewpoint of the common people.” ––Martin Esslin on Brecht, 1959

Rich-washing erases the vast swath of humanity from seeing any dignified reflection of themselves. It’s time to identify this assault on regular people.

To quote the Vancouver poet Bud Osborn*:

“north america tellin lies in our head make you feel like shit better off dead so most days now I say shout shout for joy shout for love shout for you shout for us shout down this system puts our souls in prison say shout for life shout with our last breath shout fuck this north american culture of death shout here we are amazingly alive against long odds left for dead shoutin this death culture dancin this death culture out of our heads”

*Bud Osborne 1947-2014, from Amazingly Alive and Other Poems, Vancouver, BC, 1997, Independent release, Lonesome Monsters

TO SUMMARIZE... 

Here’s the thing. Public spaces are becoming increasingly harsh. Jobs and incomes are ever more unsteady, unpredictable and unlivable. People’s anxiety is on the rise. Healthy ways to relieve stress are few if you are broke. So people turn to entertainment as a form of escape. But this subjects them to rich-washing which is harmful to individuals, to society, and the environment.  

Entertainment and advertising media have been teaching people that it is ok to hate, denigrate, or laugh at people in poverty. In addition, it has been teaching people who experience poverty to blame themselves, or even hate themselves.

“Propaganda offers him an object of hatred, for all propaganda is aimed at an enemy. And the hatred it offers him is not shameful, even hatred that he must hide, but a legitimate hatred, which he can justly feel.” ––Jacques Ellul, Propaganda, 1962

It is important to expose this type of propaganda to reduce its harm.

However, the answer is not to change entertainment to only reflect social reality. The answer is to change our reality so it is not so harsh for so many people.  

Art can’t be censored. But it can be bent by those who hold the purse strings for their own purposes.

There is no reason for poverty to exist. Letting poverty exist is the costliest, stupidest and most tragic thing society can do. As described in  Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, people first need to eat, we need shelter, we need health care, we need a material foundation before we can hope to have healthy, happy life. When people struggle to meet physical needs, they can’t pursue happiness needs. Or to put it another way:

  “Even honest folk may act like sinners, unless they've had their customary dinners”  (“How to Survive” from Threepenny Opera)

Ending poverty with a universal income benefit (aka Freedom Dividend,  Guaranteed Livable income, Universal Basic Income ) is the most affordable and doable solution for people and the planet. It is our best bet to create a livable economy, a livable natural environment, and a livable social and cultural environment for humans.  

In a world with income security for all, we might find our entertainment would drastically change for the better. Advertisers would no longer dominate entertainment. Creators would have more freedom to create. People  would no longer seek so much escapism.

Of course, we will not have utopia ––nor should we try to create a utopia.  But at least we would not be flinging ourselves into a  certain  dystopian future because we think there’s no other choice.  

A livable income for everyone gives us a choice.  #Livable4all - now- for people and the planet.

***

But wait! There’s more....

***

EXTRA SECTION 1: FAKE POVERTY TROPES

Fake poverty tropes in popular culture are different than exceptions to rich-washing (see examples next section). They are not. They are just story-telling short-cuts. They can be fun escapist entertainment, but they are ultimately rich-washing wolves in sheep’s (cheap) clothing.  

i) Rags-to-riches: When someone starts poor and ends up rich. In the past, these tales were called Horatio Alger stories, where hard work and honesty bring success to the hero. A sub-genre of this trope is the criminal rags-to-riches story. Riches are won through criminality, violence, hustles, or scams. This usually ends badly for the anti-heroe(s). However, usually not before a display of luxurious settings and wardrobes. Or in some shows, just piles and piles of cash, gold, jewels, etc.

ii) How can they afford that?:  This is when people with very marginal jobs and incomes somehow have homes and/or lifestyles that would be impossible with a similar income in real life. These are the kind of TV shows that leaves the audience wondering: “What? how can they afford that?”  

iii) Rich Relations: This is when financially poor characters live on the periphery of rich people. These characters might be broke and in debt, but they have close family or friends who are very well-off. Again, even though the main character might be ‘skins’, the audience is shown some fancy settings and aspirational fashion. 

iv) Magic Money Wand: This is when the poverty problems of the hero are magically solved when the hero gets a sudden windfall of money from a wealthy family member, friend, mysterious benefactor, or by winning something.

EXTRA SECTON 2: RECENT EXCEPTIONS TO RICH-WASHING

There are a few notable exceptions to rich-washing described here. Note: UK productions (except for one) are not included because, for whatever reason, the UK has an abundance of TV shows and films from a working class perspective. (See also the films of Ken Loach and Tony Garnett.)

The Wire began in 2002, was only 5 seasons, and is now considered a masterpiece of television. One reviewer describes it as being about “post-industrial collapse” and “institutional dysfunction” in an American city (Baltimore). Sounds bleak, but it was rare social realism with unconventional heroes and story-telling. It had low ratings at first. Apparently, showing that the “American Dream was dead” did not catch on right away. However, HBO, which relies on subscriptions, not advertising, was willing to “simply let it be” said creator, David Simon. He also describes just how much the mass media has failed America’s disenfranchised

The Wire (TV series)

“The Wire avoided victories, preferring to show corruption, failure and decay. ... The Wire was as much journalism as entertainment – a form of protest television.” ––Dorian Lynskey, The Guardian, 2018

The Wire began in 2002, was only 5 seasons, and is now considered a masterpiece of television. One reviewer describes it as being about “post-industrial collapse” and “institutional dysfunction” in an American city (Baltimore). Sounds bleak, but it was rare social realism with unconventional heroes and story-telling. It had low ratings at first. Apparently, revealing the “American Dream was dead” did not catch on right away. However, HBO, funded by subscriptions, not advertising, was willing to “simply let it be”. according to its creator, David Simon. 

“…how can a television network serve the needs of advertisers while ruminating on the empty spaces in American society and informing viewers that they are a disenfranchised people, that the processes of redress have been rusted shut, and that no one - certainly not our mass media - is going to sound any alarm?” ––David Simon, The Wire, Truth Be Told (book) 2005

Atlanta (TV series)

“...the show’s brilliance [is] at combining absurdist comedy with heartbreaking reality to create something entirely unique.” ––Yohana Desta, Vanity Fair, 2017

Atlanta is a mix of sharp social realism, sudden comic moments, gut-wrenching scenes and hard-hitting parody that includes a searing fake commercial for children’s cereal. It is like the Eduardo Galeano of TV, but with some Salvador Dali, Brecht, and comedy thrown in. Series creator Donald Glover needed to disguise his vision in order to get it made.

“I was Trojan-horsing FX. If I told them what I really wanted to do, it wouldn't have gotten made." ... My struggle is to use my humanity to create a classic work—but I don’t know if humanity is worth it, or if we’re going to make it. I don’t know if there’s much time left.”––Donald Glover interview, New Yorker, 2018

Black Mirror - Fifteen Million Merits (series)

“What archetype dystopian future does Black Mirror’s “Fifteen Million Merits” choose to model itself after? Orwell’s or Huxley’s? The answer ends up being: a little bit of both.” ––Den of Geek, 2018

Fifteen Million Merits stars Daniel Kaluuya (also the star of Get Out). The episode begins with a dystopian-lite near-future story. However, it quickly compresses the characters ––and viewers–– into a painful claustrophobic nightmare vision of a capitalist hostage-taking entertainment monopoly. 

Breaking Bad (TV series)

This was massively popular show that ran from 2008 to 2013. The main character is a chemistry teacher named Walt who was first motivated to be Bad due to a cancer diagnosis and fear for the financial future of his family. However, once he started down the bad path, he quickly accelerated to the far reaches of very bad badness. Partly this was because of his ‘almost-got-rich’ backstory. In one episode he goes to the house party of his former business partner who is now very wealthy. Walt’s feelings of poverty, failure, and humiliation are stark. In real life this pain is usually turned inward, but in the show it becomes grist for the monster that the character becomes.  Millions of people related to this character who lived under the fear of poverty in the land of plenty.

However, Breaking Bad is mostly a rags-to-riches fake poverty trope even though it was a lower-middle class character’s fear of rags that sparked his need and greed for riches. With its very individualistic focus, the story continues the myth of independence carried over from the fictional old wild west of heroes and outlaws. But in this case the outlaw is the hero.  

But perhaps its lasting legacy will be an oft seen meme showing how Breaking Bad would have had no story at all had it been set in a country with universal healthcare.  It’s accurate to say the real monster in Breaking Bad is a modern wealthy country without healthcare.

Shameless (TV series)

“Few shows have attempted to situate themselves in the living nightmare of poverty—the country’s quiet shame, the marginalized that the middle and upper classes don’t want to see next to the numbing comfort of Modern Family. Television ignores the poor just as Americans do.” ––Flood Magazine, 2016  

In a lot of ways Shameless is a big brash bold exception to rich-washing. The creator of the semi-autobiographical British version said “It’s not blue collar; it’s no collar.”  However, after 9 seasons, the US version succumbs to several fake poverty tropes. Nonetheless, it is unique, and its many fans find the characters in the chaotic, desperate, scrounging, scamming, and poverty-stricken Gallager family relatable. 

“I love how it addresses sex, drugs, poverty, absent parents, and other topics like those.” ––commenter, TV Criticism blog, 2014

Critics have questioned the series for its condescending stereotypes, for turning poverty into entertainment, for relying on too many nude scenes, and for their treatment of black characters.  

But the overarching message and source of comedy for this show is in the title, which tells us that if you are poor, you should feel shame. This family doesn’t feel shame about their poverty. They are ‘shameless’, some more than others, and comedy ensues from their rude, crude, shocking behaviour and occasional truth-telling observations about society.

EXTRA SECTION 3: WAY BACK EXCEPTIONS

In the 1970s there were many more TV shows featuring regular people: Sanford & Sons (set in a salvage yard); Laverne & Shirley (factory workers); and, in Canada, The Beachcombers (salvage).

There were even some down-market detectives including the very popular Columbo who wore rumpled clothes and drove an old jalopy. Fans loved how rich villains would be caught because of their arrogance and snobbery: they assumed Columbo was a bumbling idiot because of his humble presentation.

The Rockford Files detective (1974-1980) also had a shabby vibe. The main character (Rockford) had done time, lived with his father in an old trailer, and had no office or secretary ––just an answering machine on his cluttered desk.  He did, however, have a fast car and was played by James Garner, former star of the popular TV western Maverick. 

Rural set TV series were also fairly common. 

“Over one-third of shows in 1950 were set in small towns or rural areas, mostly Westerns and comedies.” ––Brookings Institute

The Beverly Hillbillies was popular comedy in the 1960s. It was a rags-to-riches and fish-out-of-water story. However, the show regularly made rich people look ridiculous even though the suddenly oil-rich hillbillies were also comic characters. But they were the heroes of their story. This show got cancelled despite its popularity as advertisers wanted younger urban viewers and not the rural and older viewers that show attracted. (Social Communication in Advertising, 1986)

Other rural set shows were Green Acres (inept rich people try to homestead with comic results), Petticoat Junction (another comedy), The Waltons, and Little House on the Prairie (dramas). There was also 17 seasons (1954-1973) of Lassie (a dog) with farming and wilderness settings.Going waaay back...   growing up Canadian in the 1960s and 70s meant watching The Forest Rangers and Adventures in Rainbow Country, both shows featuring child characters who showed off skills such as fishing, wood craft, horseback riding, and wilderness survival.  

EXTRA SECTION 4: THE WORLD’S LONGEST RUNNING SOAP 

“So I'm a British guy who had an overnight stay in Toronto to connect a flight, and I noticed Corrie is shown in primetime on CBC... I’m just astonished anyone outside of Northern England would give a toss about it.” Reddit comment, 2018

You can’t talk about exceptions to rich-washing without talking about Coronation Street, the world’s longest running soap. Set ‘on the cobbles’ of a small fictional corner of working class Greater Manchester in Northwest England, it began in the 1960s and is still going strong. (Update May 2020- the pandemic has in fact interrupted Corrie.) 

Coronation Street has grit, unlike US soaps, which would never have characters working in an underwear factory and organizing actions against management, or working in a fast food shops, barber shops, driving taxi, or grease pits fixing cars. With a few exceptions, most homes on the street look over-stuffed and very lived-in. The real living room of the street is the local pub, a cosy nostalgic setting, and nostalgia is a big part of the show’s popularity. 

The street has changed and expanded over the years, but it has changed slowly. Characters who come and go with frequency except for the core characters. This includes several very popular and very elder actors who get substantial storylines. In addition, “Corrie”, as the fans refer to it, is also known for having snarky battle-axe women characters. One of the oldest was Ena Sharples, and one of the newest, Evelyn Plummer. And unlike U.S. entertainment, younger characters don’t all look and sound like glossy over-polished models-slash-actors. 

In recent years Corrie has tackled numerous serious social issues such as suicide, homelessness, mental health, addiction, male rape, human trafficking, teen pregnancy, life after jail, and spousal abuse (to name just a few). These storylines are done carefully with advice from experts and advocate groups. They also frequently address classism. However, the show is not all doom and gloom. Coronation Street blends silly comedy, murderous villains, crimes big and small, and many ridiculous eye-rolling storylines. Fans heap an equal amount of complaints as praise. But big picture, Corrie is notable for the fact that it almost never got onto the airwaves at all. 

 Contrast between a working class UK soap and a US soap

Other Resources:

Books:

Deer-hunting with Jesus by Joe Bageant, who writes about populism in southern rural poor communities in the U.S. (and his hometown) and why they might vote against their own self-interest.

Somebodies and Nobodies by Robert W. Fuller who writes about abuse of power by those who have higher status or rank against those of lower status.

From Movie Lot to Beachhead by Look Magazine (1945) Written at the end of WWII, the publishers wanted to show how Hollywood was not shallow but could rally for a cause and be on the right side of history. A big contrast to today, when it comes to the war on the poor, entertainment is very much on the wrong side of history.

Upside Down by Eduardo Galeano “a crushing satirical expose of the glaring inequalities and injustices of a world turned upside down that many has come to be desensitized as ‘normal.’” (Goodreads review)

The War on Normal People by Andrew Yang (free audiobook on youtube).

The Rebel Sell - Why the culture can’t be jammed by Joseph Heath and Andrew Potter. “But these gains [civil rights, social safety net] have not been achieved by ‘unplugging’ people from the web of illusions that governs their lives. They have been achieved through the laborious process of democratic political action.” (All forms of counterculture end up being just another marketing opportunity).

Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman “As Huxley marked in Brave New World Revisited, the civil libertarians and rationalists who are ever on the alert to oppose tyranny ‘failed to take into account man's almost infinite appetite for distractions.’ Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance.” 

Websites Classism in Children’s Movies (a study) - Classism.org  A Guide to Basic Income FAQs - scottsantens.com/basic-income-faq

Podcasts

 Why Pop-Culture Hates Poor People  - Cracked.com 2015-03-02  “Movies don’t seem to understand what it’s like to make less than 200K a year…. If you look and live like a poor person, you might be a serial killer.”  

5 ways Hollywood tricked you into hating poor people  - Cracked.com 2015-02-23 

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The author was raised on books & nature and almost no TV and movies but became a telly addict & movie fan late in life.

[thestudyfeels]

Why Celebrities Are Worth More Than You

Before I dive (copy that? Because this post is gonna be so deep? Edit: I’ll take Jesus and one litre of bleach, thank you) into this storm of revelations, ANNOUNCEMENT!!! This is the first post in a series where I go all in on a particular topic and dig up hidden nuggets of wisdom from it. In other words, I rant. Hard. 

Why am I blessing you with this goodness?

This entire series boils down to improving your mindset. You’ve probably heard the legend that in the Solomon Islands, villagers practiced an, ahem, unique form of logging. If a tree was too large to be felled with an ax, the natives withered down the tree by cursing it for weeks. That’s the idea behind this series: repetition. The PRIMARY reason why I win a lot, is because I am a perennial liar and I won't take a no for my dreams. If I want to have ‘x’ trait, I’ll lie and say I have ‘x’ trait till I do have ‘x’ trait.

This is also known as the Reality Distortion Field, popularised by Steve Jobs. “Steve Jobs’s “reality distortion field” was a personal refusal to accept limitations and to convince himself that any difficulty was surmountable. This “field” was so strong that he was able to convince others that they, too, could achieve the impossible. It was an internal reality so powerful it also became an external reality.” (x)

The catch? The distortion field, and mindset in general, works MAJORLY through repetition. So I don't care if you think you’re the biggest, saddest wanker around, I’m going to drum into your ears that you’re a star and trust me, by the end of this series, every constellation out there will be pining for you.

So tea, I’M ON FIRE TODAY, so if you have a coffee (tea?) to drink, some time to invest on yourself, and a sturdy ol’ cerebrum to upgrade, then join in and watch out for this series (Letters From Solomon Islands, WHATTUP) on your dashboards. My people already know that the how-to’s are clickbait anyway (Coughs, chokes on the shade.)

Why We Adore Our Celebs

The other day I was stalking Tom Hiddleston in my bathroom (please don't use your imagination) and exactly one day ago I had been stalking Billie Eilish in there (yes nosy Eric, I'm bi, but again, don’t get carried away) and there was an interview talking about her rise to fame, and THAT, fellow denizens, got me wondering: Why do we have celebrities? (A profound question Nandini, you’ve done us proud.)

Before you spit something political like “capitalism!”, put down that crochet pattern for a sec. Close your eyes (welcome to woke therapy, ayo), and I want you to envision one of your role models- the people you look up to and would DIE if you get a chance to meet them. The icons you stalk excessively on Insta and have all the notifs on for. No, Sally, your crush on Zac Efron’s abs doesn't count. Sorry to crush your hopes.

Second, consider WHY you love this person so much. It could be anyone - an actor, influencer *smirks*, singer, that hot man down the street who helped you pick up your groceries that one time because you’re clumsy- yup, anyone. Now, trap that love here, in these pages, as you read. (Oh Sally, here’s toilet paper and a cookie, stop sniffling.)

Here’s some foreshadowing: In a nutshell, ‘celebrities’ exist because the rest of us are— excuse us, politically incorrect statement coming through— losers. Or better put, because we can't become ‘celebrities’ ourselves. Don’t run in with your frying pan just yet, James, I’ll do a thorough deconstruction. Stay put and listen up:

           Look around and you’ll find that most of the citizenry is living a life for others. Whether subconsciously, or consciously, it’s as if we’re pre-programmed to imitate and copy whatever the herd is up to. “Yo, whatcha up to, Nate, you out partying? I’ll see you in ten then.” “Lol, are you living under a rock? Do you seriously not know what Uggs are?” “I mean… yeah, I hate Justin Bieber too, of course I do.”

And that's not our fault, really. Society briefs us on the ground rules of fitting in pretty early on: get good grades, go to college, try to find a nice paying job– and we do it, like unquestioning muppets helpless in its domineering hands.

Because we all know the ramifications that’ll crop up if we don’t. If anyone even dares to be a bit different, they’re freezed out and ridiculed. They’re slapped with labels such as “insane”, “naive”, “misfit”, or the best one yet - “selfish”. Selfish for living true to themselves. Selfish for hustling hard and making THEIR dreams a reality. Selfish for having the courage to put their own desires before society’s. What. A. Big. Yawn. I’m sleeping on y’all.

          And that’s precisely where celebs beat us to the finish line.

Look, these ‘acclaimed’ personalities bubble up because most are afraid to be the most bona fide and best version of themselves. It’s much easier to plop on the couch, switch on the TV, and say, “Man, I could do that any day. And prob better too,” while trying to pick up the remote control with your two toes because you’re too comfy to get up right now.

Your role models, idols, and mentors – the entire bulk of these people have a willpower and fortitude that you could only dream of. They’ve hunted down their fears and faced numerous challenges to follow their dreams. They’ve chosen to remain true to their authentic selves even under constant judgment. Sure, they were all called eccentrics and crazy at one point or another, but— ok no, (edit: wow, I had a mood swing here, lmao) they ARE eccentrics. They ARE crazy. Wild for wanting to change the world. Mad for inspiring millions of people. They’re lunatics who had the audacity to dream big, shed the shells of doubt and insecurity, and dared to live their best life.

Moral of the story is: Celebrities, pop stars, and internet personalities aren’t just people who got lucky and wealthy. They had a special kind of fearlessness and self-awareness to get here, qualities worth examining for yourself.

So here’s your mental workout for this post —

Go and ruminate deeply about what makes you love the people you admire. What do they have or do that you want as well? Is it their spontaneity? Their courage and faith? Or is it their kindness and humanity? Or perhaps most importantly, their passion? Have you fallen in love with their excitement to go to work or does your heart melt at the gratitude they show others?

Find out what it is that makes your eyes sparkle and the corners of your lips turn up when you look at them. It is easier to find what you’d love to do from what others are doing than brainstorm on an empty page. *Sally looks up from the corner* “And then what?” *Me, smiles, sensing the crazy philo rant coming ahead* “And then, Sally dear, you live.”

The next step is a big one. You do what THEY did. If they’re passionate, YOU learn to become devoted to your dreams as well. If they don’t give up, you NEVER STRAY either.

You see, we have it in all of us to become great. And we can start wherever we are. Jen Sincero, an author and coach, put it well: “It’s not your fault you’re fucked up, BUT it is your fault if you stay fucked up.” So start where you are. Start NOW. Follow the advice Will gave to Louisa in his departing letter in Me Before You (I’m a soppy romcom fanatic) – “There is a hunger in you, Clark. A fearlessness. You just buried it, like most people do… so live boldly. Push yourself. Don’t settle. Just live well. Just LIVE.”

Love, the world isn’t as scary as we’ve all grown up to think it is. Passion, kindness, faith and magic breathes among us. You’re not a loser, darling, scribble over that insult so it says “lover”, and heal, knowing that the world awfully, I give you my word of honor (still an 18th century woman, y’all), wants you to win.

And I? I’ll be right here waiting for the day when there’ll be no such demarcation of people as “winners” or “suckers”; just conquerors with big hearts and unbreakable faith, all ready to make that small life count. 

Go win.

The End Card That Rambles On And Plugs Even More

🌚🌝 Further reading? 🌝🌚

Last post: 13 Lessons from the 2018 Chapter

if you don’t love yourself, read this. please.

+ Want to request a post? Leave your request in my ask box & I’ll get back to you asap!

Thanks for dropping by! It was a pleasure having you around. If you wish to stick for a bit, I’d suggest picking one of the related posts mentioned above.

I post new posts bi-weekly, and my wins, & journal entries throughout the week, so follow me if you’re into conquering life, leaving a legacy and being the baddest badass you can possibly be. I’ll be your side pal, cheering you along.✨

And that was it, it’s a wrap! Martha, shut the cams, Henry, pause the audio, and Nandita, I know you’re pretending to be deaf, but Mom’s yelling something about doing the dishes. Better skip along.

And you, fellow conqueror? Keep slaying life, doing the work and making it count. I hope you’re well, stay strong and go conquer life. ✧

I’m sending you so much love, see you soon.

— Nandini 💌 (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[kindofchaoticgood]

All You Sinners Stand Up (Sing Hallelujah)

In which Harry and Uma make a crazy-ass bet, Gil eats some crab surprise, and everyone else wonders whether Uma and Harry are just completely unaware of the fact that “best friends” don’t constantly flirt with each other or whether they’re just idiots.

“No fucking way!”

“Yes fucking way,” Harry counters, slapping Gil on the back. “You can do it, can’t you mate?”

Gil shrugs and gives a guileless grin. “Sure, how hard can it be?”

“You’re talking about eating month-old crab surprise,” Uma retorts, crossing her arms. “Even the hyenas don’t touch that shit.”

Harry leers at her. “Are you saying you have no faith in Gil?”

Uma rolls her eyes. “Don’t try to twist my words Hook. All I’m saying is that he’s gonna die if he eats it. No offense Gil.”

“None taken,” Gil pops an egg in his mouth and chews contentedly.

“Well, I have a little more faith in our dear second mate than you do …” Harry gives her a shark-like grin. “Care for a little wager, love?”

Uma raises an eyebrow as Ashe, who’s been inhaling her food all this time and not been paying attention to any of them, finally starts to take notice of them. “Bet? What bet?”

“Harry wants to bet that Gil can eat his way through all the month-old crab surprise,” Uma says, not taking her eyes off of Harry’s smirk. “And I think that he’s going to throw it all up before he gets through half of it.”

“Oh, do not take that bet, sweetheart,” Ashe shakes her head. “That Gaston stomach is made of steel.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Gil muses, and Ashe winks at him.

“But month-old crab surprise?” Sierra twists her head over to them from where she’s sitting with Bonnie and Desiree. “That stuff is hard to get down even when it’s fresh.”

“Don’t tell Cook that,” Bonnie laughs. “Or you’ll be stomaching cold catfish-eye soup for three months.”

Everyone at the table takes a moment to shudder at the thought of the slimy liquid and slippery eyeballs.

“Don’t do it,” Desiree warns Uma, who’s still in an intense stare-off with Harry.

“Do it.” Jonas slides in next to his sister. “What are we talking about?”

“Harry and Uma are about to make a bet over whether or not Gil can eat all the month-old crab surprise in the Shoppe.”

Jonas considers this. “What are the terms? There have to be terms.”

A wicked gleam sparks in Harry’s eyes. “Tattoos.”

The entire table lets out a collective “Ohhh …” and Uma leans forward. “Go on.”

“Loser has to get a tattoo. Winner picks what it is and where it goes.”

Bonnie lets out a low whistle and Desiree shakes her head vigorously. “This is so not worth it—”

But Uma is already reaching across the table to shake Harry’s hand. “You’re on.” Her smile turns predatory. “You’re going to look so cute with PROPERTY OF UMA tattooed on your forehead.”

Harry cringes and Uma laughs evilly as Ashe snickers and Sierra rolls her eyes. “Yeah, this is totally not going to backfire.”

*****

“Prepared to lose tragically?” Uma challenges.

“Are you ready to be proven dead wrong?” Harry shoots back.

“I feel like their trash talk would be way more effective if Uma wasn’t practically sitting in Harry’s lap,” Marya mutters to Gonzo, who snickers.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Desiree asks worriedly as Gil stuffs a napkin down the front of his shirt like a bib.

“I’ll be fine,” Gil replies dismissively and then calls, “Bring out the crab!���

*****

“You know, there’s no shame in dropping out,” Harry whispers into Uma’s ear. She’s given up all pretense and is just sitting in his lap at this point. Gil is on his fifth helping of crab surprise, and has given up using utensils, so his hands are slippery with grease.

Uma snorts and the sound reverberates in Harry’s chest. “In your dreams. I have plenty of time.”

Gil pauses from eating and bellows, “MUSTARD!”

“How the fuck did I get stuck doing this?” Ashe grouses as she hurries forward and squeezes out half the bottle of mustard over the plate before slamming the bottle down on the table.

“As I recall,” Sierra says lazily from where she’s lounging back on her chair, “you said that you wanted a front-row seat to all the action.”

“I didn’t mean I wanted to do manual labor,” Ashe snarls as Gil starts devouring his sixth plate.

“Oh well,” Sierra smirks at her and Ashe flings a knife at her, which Sierra lazily dodges.

“If you spill blood on my floors, you’re cleaning it up!” Uma calls.

“Goddamn it!”

*****

“Are we sure they’re not fucking?” Bonnie asks in an undertone to Desiree.

Desiree looks over at where Harry is sprawled out on Uma’s throne; his arms securely around her waist as he chats with Claudine Frollo.

“I don’t even know with them anymore.”

“If he’s having sex with Uma, then that pirate bitch is going to die.” Jonas says matter-of-factly, tipping his tequila back.

Bonnie rolls her eyes and Desiree gives her brother a disgusted look. “You were doing far worse at their age.”

“Exactly! Men are pigs.” Jonas smirks at her. “That’s why I’m so happy that you’re a lesbian.”

“You do remember that biologically, I do have a dick, right?”

“Semantics, sister dear …”

Meanwhile, Claudine, Harry, and Uma were watching Gil eat his eleventh plate of crab surprise.

“This is so gross,” Claudine says with wide eyes as Gil lets out a guttural belch and then continues eating.

“You have no idea,” Uma murmurs, watching queasily as Gil uses his now filthy bib to wipe his chin.

Harry gives her a cocky grin. “Ready to admit defeat, darling?”

“Hardly,” Uma scoffs. “I’ll admit, he has lasted longer than I thought he would, but that doesn’t mean he won’t get tired.”

“Aren’t you guys worried that he might get food poisoning?” Claudine asks, eyeing Gil worriedly.

“Don’t worry, Claud,” Gil calls over cheerfully. “Gaston’s don’t get sick.”

Claudine looks panicked. “That doesn’t mean anything—”

“Oh, I know,” Uma replies breezily. “That’s why we have Bonnie on standby.”

Bonnie raises her hand. “I have coconut water, juice, and a bucket.”

“I won’t need any of that,” Gil says dismissively. “Bring out the next plate!”

*****

“Hey bud, how’re you doing?”

Gil looks up from his plate at Uma. Uma has a bright smile on her face, but he knows better than to trust it. Uma hates smiling.

“Why?” He asks, crossing his arms and trying to stare her down.

Uma just continues to smile down at him, but her eyes glimmer dangerously and Gil has to look away. (Damn it, he doesn’t even know why he tries anymore.)

“Just curious,” she leans down and lowers her voice. “I was also wondering—”

“Aha!” Uma jumps back and Gil shovels food into his mouth to avoid the conversation as Harry walks towards the table, pointing dramatically at Uma. “Caught in the act, you cheater!”

“Fuck you!” Uma snaps. “Did I say anything to you, Gil?”

Gil frantically shakes his head and tries to sink down in his chair.

“Oh please, Gil knows better than to cross you,” Harry sneers. “Admit it, you were about to order him to stop eating!”

Uma scowls. “How dare you accuse me of the truth?”

“Ha, you admit it!”

“Of course I admit it, I’m a villain, what do you expect?”

“Okay, no using authority to pressure Gil,” Jonas places a hand on Uma’s shoulder and steers her away. “You have to stay ten feet away from Gil while he eats.”

Uma glares at Harry and shrugs Jonas’s hand off of her shoulder before storming away.

Harry waves mockingly at her before leaning down and whispering to Gil, “I’ll give you all the answers to Yen Sid’s tests for a year if you finish this off-”

“Who’s cheating now?” Uma yells from her throne.

“Alright, the rules apply to you too,” Jonas says sternly, dragging Harry by his collar.

Gil heaves a sigh of relief, but then groans when Harry yells, “Think about it!”

*****

“You rigged this!”

“Come now, darling,” Harry cannot contain the massive grin on his face, and Uma sourly wonders how it’s possible for Harry to show all of his teeth at once. “How could I have possibly rigged this?”

She flounders for an answer, but then settles for glaring fiercely at him. “I don’t know, but when I find out, your hook is going to be shoved so far up your-”

“I just can’t believe he even ate all the crunchy rot,” Sierra says, eyeing Gil with a mixture of respect and disgust.

Harry claps Gil on the back, making the other boy growl and swat at him listlessly from his prone position on the table. “What can I say? The man’s a legend.”

“ ’M sorry, Uma,” Gil mumbles miserably.

Uma sighs and ruffles his hair. “It’s not your fault,” she levels a glare at Harry. “It’s his.”

Harry blows a kiss at her while Bonnie slides a glass of coconut water over to Gil. “Here. It’ll help with the stomach pain.”

“Cheers, B,” Gil salutes her with the glass, his head still on the table top.

“Now for the good stuff,” Harry levels a wicked glare at Uma. “Tattoos, here we come!”

“Bonnie, kill him.”

*****

“You suck so much.”

“You enchant me too, baby,” Harry grins salaciously at her and Uma scowls and crosses her arms petulantly.

Despite her best efforts, her plans to assassinate Harry had gone awry. Bonnie had just laughed at her, Ashe had told her solemnly that a bet was a bet, and even though Jonas had been extremely willing, Desiree had forbidden him from killing Harry.

So now she was probably going to be stuck with PROPERTY OF HARRY HOOK as a tramp stamp forever.

Fucking excellent.

The two of them are currently in Harriet’s tattoo parlor right now, in a secluded corner, far away from everyone else (thank the gods). After handing all the materials to Harry, Harriet had patted Uma consolingly on the shoulder before disappearing to scream at a customer who was complaining about the line detail on his tattoo. Right now, Harry is setting up the ink and the tattoo gun, humming “A Pirate’s Life for Me” all the while.

If Uma wasn’t been so pissed off at herself for taking the stupid bet, she would have teased him for being a cliché.

“So,” Harry turns towards her, tattoo gun in hand and a wicked grin on his face. “Ready for your tattoo, my darling?”

Uma groans and pulls her feet out of her combat boots before starting to shimmy her fishnets and shorts down. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“Wait,” Harry holds up a hand, his eyes wide. “I never thought I’d say this when you took off your clothes in front of me—” (Uma rolls her eyes) “But what the bloody hell are you doing?”

“I’m getting ready for the tattoo,”

“Where do you think you’re getting it? On your arse?” Harry gives her an amused look but leads her to the chair. “Just relax. It’s on your collarbone, so it might hurt a bit.”

Uma just grumbles in response, but then immediately flinches off of the chair when the freezing alcohol gets dabbed on her skin.

Harry raises an eyebrow at her. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she leans back in the chair, determinedly staring at a corner of the ceiling. “Let’s do this.”

*****

“You’re humming.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re humming.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

“Yes you are. You’re humming that song about being buried in the ground or some morbid shit like that.”

“ . . . No?”

“Yes, you are. No, don’t stop, it’s cute.”

*****

“Done.” Harry leans back, a satisfied grin on his face. “Have a look.”

Uma slowly rises up from her chair and peeks at the mirror, expecting the worst.

Instead, all she can do is stare.

The tattoo is placed just under her left collarbone, the skin around it tinged with red. But the red isn’t enough to distract from the three words written in flowing black script; still I rise.

She stares and she stares, and her eyes flick to Harry at several points, who is starting to look nervous.

“Obviously if you don’t like it, you don’t have to keep it,” he awkwardly says as Uma continues to stare at her tattoo. “You could always cover it up with makeup – or use Harriet’s tattoo remover, but I do have to warn you that it’s still liable to take a chunk out of your skin—”

Uma cuts him off with a simple, “Shut up, Harry,” and brings his mouth down to hers.

Harry is stunned for a second, but then tangles his hand in her hair and pulls her closer to him.

His lips are warm and chapped and all Uma can focus on is kissing him breathless because gods, her boy is fucking amazing—

The door to the parlor slams and Uma and Harry practically jump apart. Harry’s eyes are dilated and he’s breathing hard, but Uma is also trying to catch her breath.

She just kissed Harry.

She just kissed her best friend.

FuckfuckfuckohshitohshitFUCK.

“I gotta go,” she blurts out, but Harry’s staring at her with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid feelings are going to get hurt if she does this wrong so she just keeps talking. “Not because of you. Because Desiree asked me. She told me to come over to the house as soon as we finished with the tattoo because of . . . babysitting. Yeah, she wants me to babysit tonight, so I really have to go, right now, because otherwise she might just abandon them to go have sex with Marya, am I right?”

Now Harry is looking at her like she’s just announced that she wants to become a pretty, pretty princess and Uma has to get out of here as fast as possible.

“Anyways, gotta go,” she rises up from the chair, kisses his cheek (what the HELL is she doing?) and practically races out of the tattoo parlor, leaving Harry staring after her bewilderedly, his lips still tingling.

Well, bloody hell.

[justbwi]

Race Start

(i just can’t find a relevant gif but i mean...soft jungkook...am i right?)

Word count: 2904 

Pairing: jungkook x reader

Genre: fluff / highschool au

Summary: requested by @loudandweird “A fluffy scenario based on this please? <Jungkook x Reader> They both like to go to the arcade a lot and they suddenly change personalities. Both are super aggressive, loud and competitive while playing, like they are enemies, but once they exit the arcade, reader goes back to being loving and affectionate and Jungkook the playful and bashful him.

A/N: it’s been a longgggggggggg wait i’m so sorry my bun ;w; please forgive my piles upon piles of schoolwork and exam papers *bows* hopefully it’s worth the wait~ and I’ve make some changes with your request ;) enjoy ^3^

It is a misty Autumn evening, a time when the leaves turn gold, painting the streets in a shimmering afterglow. The wind gently weaves its fingers through the few loose strands of hair that is shielding your vision away from the school’s courtyard, where a couple of students still linger around even the bell has long rung.

You are warmly nestled on a bench standing under the protection of a maple tree, legs swaying back and forth in sync with the passing seconds. An uneasiness presses on your chest as you heave out a heavy sigh, its source tracing back to the collection of college application forms sitting by your side. You could certainly use some distraction at the moment just to stop yourself from overthinking over the strategies your professors have kindly suggested using. It is not like you already have a clear idea on what career you would like to pursue in the future anyways. Dreams and ambitions have not always been of a great importance to you, not that you have never thought of them since childhood, but it is the surge of helplessness with which they always come along that stops you from pondering over any possibilities. You cannot seem to pinpoint something you are particularly good at from which you can earn a good fortune. Throughout the few years of high school, you just do as you are told no matter you like it or not. You are definitely not sitting among the top academically, but at least you are doing fine and you have never failed a test before unlike someone whom you just so happen to be waiting for and whom you…

“Hey, Y/N,” the slightly high-pitched voice breaks you out of your own reverie. You look up to find a pair of doe-like eyes staring right back at you.

You blink as the boy in front flicks your forehead playfully seeing it takes way too long for you to respond, earning a couple of giggles from his group of friends standing behind him.

“Ah, Jungkook. You are here,” you reply in an almost unamused tone which catches his attention right away.

The group falls silent when they realise the change in atmosphere, waving a friendly goodbye in your direction before excusing themselves as if their presence could have annoyed you. You forcefully put up a smile and return the gesture. You most certainly do not want to rain on the parade of Jungkook’s overly-excited group of friends’ at this moment and you are grateful that they have left before you have the heart to ask them to. In fact, you do not have the mood for Jungkook either. You could have his day ruined n a bit since you cannot help sulking and getting drowned in a sea of thoughts from time to time. But he does not seem affected, not even in the slightest.

Jungkook takes advantage of your troubled state and pinches your cheek once again, knowing that you are not in the mood for retaliation, as he straightens himself before you and chants, “Let’s go!”

And just before you finish collecting yourself to be able to refuse, he is already taking long strides towards the school entrance, leaving trails of his infamous minty scent in its wake.

You follow the boy out, staying on his left almost as a routine. Jungkook does not speak for the rest of the walk and that makes you even more anxious than ever.

“Where are we going?” you giddily ask, the unknown destination stealing part of your attention span away from the trouble earlier on. You set your gaze over to the horizon, where the sun is about to set, its red glamour setting your whole body on fire. Autumn should not be hard to endure with the heat waves long gone, but your chest still feels heavy as if you were forced between two stone walls, slowly pressing in.

Jungkook chuckles in reply. It is surely untypical of him to act mysterious. In this relationship between the two of you, his name shouts nothing like little surprises the way yours will never get in line with the word ‘future’. You avoid thinking about what things will be like tomorrow because you hate to ponder on the unknown which tends to add onto your fear and worries. That also accounts for the fact that you are slightly envious of Jungkook, who seemingly has his future meticulously planned and acted upon. He is a talented musician, a known fact to the whole town ever since he was born a week before you. He has a wonderful voice that never fails to lull you into sleep when he crawls into your bed at thousands of dreary nights. His voice is not too high or too deep, just about right to your liking, like honey dripping your throat. You know that his gifts have to recognised someday, that his voice has to be heard all around the world, but somehow you want to keep this treasure to yourself. This soft and tenderness is encasing you at this moment and you hate to let it go.

“Y/N, we’re here,” Jungkook announces as a matter of fact, putting half of his body weight onto the sets of doors ahead, clearing the entranceway for your entry.

You steal a glance at the banner hanging high up on the wall nearby and five seconds are all it takes for you to figure out what is to ensue. This gaming centre is located right around the corner in the neighbourhood both you and Jungkook reside in. Ever since its grand opening, the two of you have been admiring its glory from afar but never have either of you the courage to take a look from the inside because well…school sucks and second of all, you guys were told that you were underage.

“Do you really think that looking at what I couldn’t have will make me feel better now?” You reply, unamused. Just as you are about to shy away from the unknown once again, the boy tightens his hold at your wrist and guides you to the opposite direction.

"Who says we are just looking at it from afar this time?" Jungkook smirks and swiftly makes you walk ahead, generously letting you have the first taste of freedom and this refreshing scene imprinted in your memory. 

You blink hard as you get adjusted to the apparently dimmer lighting inside. The interior is much bigger than the way you have always imagined it to be. Rows upon rows of gaming machines mark the boundary between the counter from where game coins are retrieved and the actual paradise yearning for your touch. The boy is long gone before you notice his absence as if he knew the way in and out here way better than you. He came back with a wide smile, the coins clattering against each other in a small plastic bag which is then nicely transferred to you.  

"Up for a race? Best of three. The loser of each game gets to decide which arcade they are going for next," Jungkook suggests playfully. 

"What race?" You reply confusedly and fail to figure out the answer yourself in his brown-tinted iris. 

"You are clearly struggling with college application. Let's just use that as a bet. If you win, you will have a night's out at Ruby's. My treat." He winks as he inserts a game coin into the dancing machine on his right. 

You step onto the panel when the screen goes black, anticipating the start of the song. "What if I lose?" 

Jungkook returns with a final game coin slipping through his fingers into the slot, his steps light as compared to the strong base pounding in the background. "I get to choose what you are putting in your college application." And that sounds ridiculous and fair to you at the same time - ridiculous because he could have come up with the craziest idea ever existed and you would have no right to fight your way through; fair because the bet is clearly laid at your odds -you are either going to have your stomach satisfied or your troubles solved. It does not sound terrible at all, does it? 

Before you have more time to ponder over it, the music has already begun and as far as you are concerned, you are several beats behind Jungkook. You frantically jump to the corresponding buttons when the arrows pop up on the screen again, stealing glances at the boy from time to time to see if he is doing better than you.

Despite your effort in catching up, the song ends on a note where Jungkook is proudly announced as the winner. 

"Dancing king right here, ladies and gentlemen," Jungkook smirks and bows to no one in particular. 

You come down from the game panel, panting hard. His infamous smirk seems to make your insides boil, sparking off fury that is threatening to eat you alive. "I am gonna get you," you sputter, the urge to win fuelling every vein of yours. 

The brunette chuckles at your change of tone. "Alright. You can choose the next game." 

You glance around. The shooting gun looks tempting but you think of how marvellously good Jungkook is at his video games and stop halfway in your tracks to the range, heading for the air hockey instead. 

"First to score ten wins," you plainly declare and move to the opposite side of the table. 

Jungkook nods and places the puck at the centre, his index fingers gradually sliding off as your body tense up in anticipation. 

"Ready, set..." the boy slurs, his gaze steady on the puck. "go." 

You eye his quick movement, his right arm outstretched in the hopes of scoring the firsl goal. Instinctively, you move your paddle right in front of the slot on your side of the rail in defence, going left and right to dodge the attack. Once the puck stops within your range, you lift up the paddle to capture it under as you glance up, mimicking Jungkook's smirk. You prepare yourself for a powerful strike, one that will tear Jungkook's tactics apart. He notices your change in posture, his eyes narrow to squint at the puck in movement. 

Ding. 

"Ten points to Gryffindor. I win," you chant, arms flown high up in the air. 

Jungkook chuckles dryly. "Don't tell me that one single score worth ten points, Y/N." 

"Well, you did not ask," you reply, not forgetting to shoot a satisfactory wink Jungkook's way just as he did a few mintues ago. 

"Where is the fair play we have always stressed on?" The boy argues with his lips pursed, pulling his best act of a poor puppy. 

You shrug and take a long stride towards another arcade machine nearby. There is nothing like fairness when it comes to the competition between the two of you. Knowing how ambitious you yourself are, you treat every bet seriously as if it was a matter of life or death. Sometimes, it is not the price of winning the bet that makes you devote all of you to the game but the sheer ounce of pride and satisfaction over the fact that you have defeated the almighty Jeon Jungkook which sound just right at the end of the day. 

You notice Jungkook take a quick turn to the left and follow him. "That's a tie for now. I mean I can only imagine you filling in the application form before my eyes. I like the sound of Entomology," the boy smiles, the crinkles at his eyes making the whole idea look less frightening than it should be for a person suffering from insect phobia like you. 

You shiver unknowingly. "I can literally taste the perfectly cooked rib eye steak, melting at the tip of my tongue. Shut up and pick your game, Jeon." 

"Here we are," Jungkook nudges you lightly, bringing you back to the real competition. 

The basketball arcade is the nearest to the entrance. You have certainly greeted it from afar but you long decided that you would never play a game that is at Jungkook's favour. His height, accompanied with his excellent reflexes, have never done you any good in all the ball matches the two of you have engaged in before. Apparently, they are not going to do you any good at this point of speaking either. 

Jungkook has finished slipping in five game coins before you can possibly back out. "Shoot at the same time. The one with highest count of goals win," he announces the instant rules and stomps his fist onto the 'start' button. 

Hurriedly, you step in between the boy and the machine, blocking his direct access to the basketballs falling behind the rail. You tiptoe and aim for the best shot as the net sways left and right. 

"Goal," you quietly wish as you watch another basketball striking in the same direction, swiftly hit yours and go straight for the scoreboard. Your ball springs back and slams against the protection shield instead. 

"Better luck next time, kid," Jungkook chuckles. Since you have your tiny figure sandwiched between the machine and him, the angelic laugh of his seems to vibrate against your back, making you hyperaware of the proximity. 

You blush, not sure if that is out of shame or the fact that Jungkook's breath is hot against the nape of your neck; the fact that his pants would sound way too sexy as he purposefully kneels down a little bit to grab a basketball, breaking apart your useless blockade. "Stop that!" You protest. 

"What exactly do you mean?" Jungkook asks with a smirk visible at the corner of his lips. 

You roll your eyes and make good use of this distraction to score more goals. Eventually, you pull off. You are not sure at which point did you start taking the lead in the game despite all Jungkook's advantages, but you did win after all. That's all it would ever matter. 

"I win," you say as a matter a fact with the widest smile you could have ever mustered ever since the arrival of those college application forms. You swear you have not been this pleased for a long time.  

Jungkook applauds, the same grateful smile reflected on his face. “Congratulations, my queen. Ruby’s waiting at your doorstep but not Entomology, luckily.”

You hum at the mention of Ruby’s and lick your upper lip subconsciously as you picture the smell of the freshly grilled steak, but that is still not ample to calm your nerves when the idea of college pops up in your mind. Now that you have won, you really did lose yourself an excuse on filling in the application. Suddenly, the idea of losing does not sound terrible after all if you could have someone decide your fate.

“Maybe I should just go for Entomology. I mean…I literally have no idea what I should be studying in college,” you sigh, arms thrown in the air in defense.

The sudden change of topic drains the surrounding light atmosphere alongside Jungkook’s smile away. “You know I’m joking right, Y/N,” Jungkook laughs dryly, the sound still came out endearing albeit forced.

“Or I could just follow your trail. I will just go and study music. Yes, I will definitely struggle with playing the right notes but that way I get to see you every day. That’s still a benefit, I suppose,” you reply and nudge the boy for an approval.

Jungkook grimaces. “For the sake of mankind, don’t do music. Save them the risks of being deafen, please.”

Rolling your eyes, you hit his shoulder half-heartedly. “I am serious, Kook.”

Jungkook shifts his body to look at you properly, his right hand on your head, patting you lightly as he replies, “Y/N, just do what you like. You have always been a wonderful painter, right”

“But, no one pursues drawing as a job in the real world…” You fight back weakly, knowing for sure that you will be happy studying Arts despite what the adults say.

Jungkook shakes his head the moment you utter your stance. “Van Gogh, you are way too young to be worrying that much. Y/N, you and I both know that you are a gifted child. You can always make something out of those ‘unrealistic dreams’.” He lowers his hand to caress your rosy cheeks, the corners of his eyes shimmering with something anew. “Or…you can always do what you are good at instead.”

His last reply sends you back to a confused state. You blink. “And that is?”  

“Me.”

“You know what?”

“Hm?”

“That’s actually a pretty good idea.”

Jungkook chuckles, his bunny-like smile a little too adorable at the moment that you just cannot resist the urge to kiss it away. You smile into the shallow kiss, slightly aware of the fact that both of you are still in a public area.

“Y/N,” the boy calls softly.

“Hm?” You coos as you weave your fingers through his brown strands the way he has always liked it.

“I can already tell that you are really good at this. I wonder how much you can improve when we get out of here?” His hands slowly glide across your back and down your hips.

“Up for a race?”

“Sounds just about right.”

[jae-bummer]

Unfair Advantage

Request: number 1 and any member of nct :)

1) “You think you could do better?”

Member: NCT’s Johnny x Y/N

Type: fluff

You giggled, leaning lazily against the token machine as your friend stuffed another dollar into the slot. “You’re wasting your money.” 

“Says who,” she grumbled, pouting as the machine spit her dollar back out at her. She snatched it as it fluttered in midair and immediately began to flatten out one of the folded ends. Running it back and forth against the corner of the machine, she cut her eyes at you. “You will humor me.” 

“Unsure if that was intended to be a threat or not,” you muttered, taking a swig from the drink you had been holding. “But I kind of humor you every day...you know, just like you existing in general.” 

“Words hurt,” she muttered, shoving the money back into the machine. “And you can pretend like I am an inconvenience all you want, but you would be lost without me.” 

“If that’s what makes you feel better,” you chuckled. “Then sure. I would be hopelessly lost.” 

“Damn right you would,” she grumbled, finally standing up straight again. “Now take one of the token cups.” 

You rolled your eyes, doing as you were instructed. She was right and you knew it. As much as you liked to feign inconvenience, she was your best friend and you would do anything for her. She brought you out of your shell and encouraged you to actively be more social. She deserved to be humored. 

Well, most of the time. 

Right now, it was up for debate. 

You glanced up at your surroundings and tried not to sigh. She had drug you to one of those restaurant/arcade combos. You knew the type. They were mostly intended for families or first dates, aiming to keep everyone happily distracted with their own gaming interests and a side of cheese fries. 

“Y/N,” your friend hummed, tapping her foot. “Which one?” 

Shaking your head, you looked back down to the tokens. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“I was asking you which game you wanted to play before you went all space cadet?” she chuckled. “Motorcycles? Maybe some giant claw machine? Oh, wait! I know!”

“Don’t say it. Don’t say it,” you hissed, quietly pleading with her. 

“DDR!” she gasped. 

“She said it,” you groaned. 

“And what kind of issue could you possibly have with the wholesome game of Dance Dance Revolution?” she asked, lifting her brows. 

“For one,” you hummed. “It is literally the only game that forces you to be physically active.” 

“No, there’s that jump roping game, and then the weird football training-”

“Two,” you continued. “You always pick a song I don’t know. Or something that is far past my skill set and requires four pairs of feet.” 

“You can start on an easy level,” she muttered. “You don’t have to start on expert to prove a point.” 

“Three,” you nodded, still ignoring her. Sticking out her hip, she crossed her arms, and stifled a yawn. “Are you yawning?” 

“Was that the third point or am I still waiting for you to finish?” she grumbled. 

“Three,” you repeated. “You are so bored with your own idea that you are yawning.” 

“Oh come on!” she gasped. “That was not a point until just now.” 

“Fine,” you pouted. “Three, I always look stupid.” 

“You never look stupid,” she grinned. “But admittedly, you sound kind of stupid right now. Arguing about why you shouldn’t have to play DDR.” 

“I’m guessing I still haven’t gotten my point across?” you sighed. “My point is...I’m going to go play Crossy Road, see you.” 

You spun on your heel, attempting to move quickly enough to disappear out of her sight. Much to your chagrin, you felt her thin fingers wrap around your forearm and tug you back toward her. “Just because you’re a bad dancer-”

“The hell I am!” you gasped. “That special kind of torture you call Dance Dance Revolution is neither a dance dance, or a revolution.” 

“That was poetic,” your friend chuckled. “Come up with that all by yourself?” 

“Remind me why I hang out with you again?” you sighed. 

“Because I keep you young,” she grinned. “Now come on.” 

“You don’t have to keep me young,” you mumbled. “I am young. Why do I need you to-”

“The less you complain, the quicker this will be over,” she sighed, trudging you through the brightly lit game machines. You glanced around at happy families joining together to play Mario Kart and boyfriends beating girlfriends at rounds of skee ball. 

“Here’s an idea!” you erupted, stopping just short of the machine in question. “You can play, and I’ll watch! Doesn’t that sound like fun?” 

“Oh loads,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “But you know what sounds like more fun? You playing with me.” 

“I’m not going to be able to get out of this, am I?” you groaned, finally coming to terms with your own defeat. 

“Not a snowball’s chance in Hell,” your friend grinned. 

“What a coincidence, since I’m already there and all,” you muttered. Taking the few short steps to the dance machine, you stepped hesitantly on the platform and winced at the bright lights pulsing around you. 

“I’ll even let you pick the song,” she squeaked happily, shoving token after token into the awaiting mouth of the machine. 

“Gee, how considerate,” you grumbled. “And for a second, I actually thought I had a say in this. Well played.” 

“Just dissociate,” she laughed. “You do it well.” 

“I find that offensive,” you sighed. “But true.” 

“Alright, so what’s the jam?” she asked excitedly, hopping up and down beside you. 

“If you ask like that, I may never answer,” you muttered, pressing quickly through the song roll. “Block B? Too fast. EXO? Too sexy. BTS? I would like to make it out of this with both ankles in tact...” 

“Ooo! What about this one?” she squealed, pointing wildly at the screen. You tilted your head in consideration and slowly began to nod. 

“NCT 127,” you hummed. “Makes sense. Not terribly complicated. A lot of arm motions...it can’t be THAT bad?” 

“Cherry Bomb or Limitless?” 

“Cherry Bomb,” you nodded, trying to convince yourself for just a moment of the possible fun you could have. 

Until the game started. 

“I’m not even on expert this time!” you hissed, your feet tapping chaotically at the flashing tiles beneath them. 

“This-this isn’t that....that bad,” your friend huffed, attempting to keep up as well. “It’s good-good cardio.” 

“Don’t talk to me!” you gasped. “Focus!”

“I can do two things at once,” she grumbled, her legs moving in directions you weren’t sure were entirely possible. “But judging by your score, you can’t.”

“How can you talk shit when you’re out of breath!” you groaned. 

“I always have enough energy to talk shit,” she smiled. 

You continued to stomp as if you were standing in a pile of ants. In most situations where music was concerned, you considered yourself to be a fairly rhythmic person. In this situation, however...

“When will this end?” you hissed, using the last bit of energy you had left to jump on two tiles at once. 

“Last...last verse,” your friend heaved, giving it her all. 

“Why do I even bother?” you groaned. “Your score is at least double what mine is.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser,” she chuckled. 

“Says the winner,” you grumbled, the song finally drawing to a close. You gasped for air as you leaned backwards onto the support rail, attempting to get your body back to situation normal. 

You heard a light clap sound behind you, followed by a long whistle. “Impressive.” 

Rolling your eyes, you clicked your tongue, and set your friend with a heavy glare. Hoping you could convey your annoyance with a facial expression alone, you were not amused by the sudden audience. “You think you could do better?” 

Turning around, you had your death stare on lock as you sized up the victim of your inevitable tirade. 

“Holy shit.” 

You were staring into the eyes of a face you had just seen on screen. 

“I think I probably could do better,” he chuckled, glancing up at you through his lashes. “But I would probably have an unfair advantage.” 

“You’re-you’re,” your friend stuttered, smacking you lightly on the arm. “You’re-”

“Johnny Seo,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief. Glancing to the man standing directly to the left of him, you swallowed. Hard. “And Yuta...Yuta Nakamoto.” 

“Are you fans?” Yuta smiled, tilting his head as he looked at the two of you. 

“Uh...yeah,” your friend said bluntly, her eyes growing larger by the moment. While both of you enjoyed listening to Korean pop music, you liked to think that you had your emotions in check if you were to ever meet an idol. Your best friend on the other hand... “I’m Y/F/N and this is Y/N.” 

“Cool, very nice to meet you” Johnny grinned. “You mind if we give it a try?” 

“By all means,” you scoffed, hopping down from the platform. “I’d love to see a professional at work.” 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Johnny smirked. “I’m hardly a professional.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Yuta chuckled. “I am as professional as they come.”

“Make it stop!” Yuta screeched, smacking at the buttons on the machine. “Please, someone, unplug it!” 

“Why were we being cocky?” Johnny gasped, holding onto the bar behind him for support as he stomped at the tiles. “This isn’t like the real choreography at all!” 

“Well, that’s weird!” you chuckled, crossing your arms as you watched the two men desperately try to salvage their scores on expert mode. “You would think that you may have...what was it you said? An unfair advantage?”

“I take back everything!” Johnny groaned. “Everything I’ve said in my life to bring me to this point is a lie and this was such a bad decision.” 

“I’m sweating!” Yuta screeched. “Why am I sweating?” 

“Hmph...I always thought he would glisten up close,” your friend said quietly, narrowing her eyes at him. “But those are legitimate beads of sweat running down his face.” 

“Idols, they’re just like us!” you laughed, elbowing her lightly in the ribs. “Is this even real life right now?” 

“I haven’t quite decided,” she whispered. “I feel like at any moment I’ll wake up and have to text you about this weird dream I had where we played DDR with NCT.” 

“Not a dream,” you muttered, just as a drop of Johnny’s sweat flew through the air and landed on your arm. “Definitely not a dream.” 

Wincing, your friend stared at the drop of sweat in question. “Unsure if you should be happy about that or not.” 

“Decidedly not happy,” you grumbled, wiping your arm on your shirt. “Sweat is sweat, whether it’s from an incredibly attractive man or not.” 

“You think I’m incredibly attractive?” Johnny gasped, glancing over his shoulder at you with a small smile. 

“Oh, don’t act like you’re surprised,” you muttered. “I’m sure you hear it all the time.” 

Johnny rolled his eyes before slowing his steps and stepping from the platform. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yuta gasped, leaning forward to rest his palms against his knees and catch his breath. “We have two more songs!” 

“I tap out,” Johnny muttered, walking slowly toward you. “I’m sure one of you will sub in for me?” 

“I don’t want to play on expert,” your friend muttered, shaking her head rapidly. “I’m not that stupid...I mean...uh...no offense.” 

“Non taken,” Johnny chuckled. “I’m sure Yuta would love the company though.” 

“My thighs are on fire!” he shouted, slumping against the machine. “Why did we do this? Why did we not play Crossy Road like I wanted?”

“That seems to be a common theme this evening,” you muttered. 

“Does he need some sort of medical attention?” your friend asked, lifting her brows. “He seems pretty distressed.” 

“He may just need a thigh massage,” Johnny baited. 

Your friend’s eyebrows raised even further as she subconsciously stumbled toward the DDR machine. “Yuta, are you okay?” 

“Let’s go,” Johnny grinned, taking your elbow lightly into his hand, and navigating you away from the game. 

“Where are we going?” you asked quietly, attempting not to draw too much attention to your departure. 

“Basketball?” Johnny asked. 

“I’m not very good,” you admitted, biting your lip. 

“I’ll help,” he smiled kindly, leading you toward the basketball hoops. 

Blinking rapidly, you had to silently remind yourself of the sudden turn your evening had taken. Just under a half an hour ago, you were not so proudly stuffing nachos into your face, and now you were going to play arcade games with one of the most gorgeous men you had ever seen. You knew when you moved overseas that your life would change, but you had no idea to what extent. To be casually hanging out with one of the country’s most loved idols was not on your list of things you thought to be probable. And yet...

“So, NCT’s Johnny,” you teased, leaning against the basketball machine as he began to slip in a few tokens. “What brings you out this evening?” 

“We didn’t have a schedule,” Johnny chuckled, shaking his head. “And could you please not call me “NCT’s Johnny?” Just Johnny will do.” 

“I can’t lie,” you sighed. “I had fully intended on calling you that for the duration of this interaction.” 

“I would prefer to feel normal around you, thanks,” he grinned. “Just a normal boy talking to a beautiful-”

“Whoa, whoa,” you interrupted, inadvertently placing your hand on his bicep. Freezing for a moment, you immediately withdrew your hand and felt your face grow hot. Johnny looked down knowingly at the spot you had just touched and smiled even wider. 

“What?” he asked. 

“You are about as normal as I am beautiful,” you hummed, trying to keep yourself calm. 

“I think you’re wrong there,” he chuckled. “But I’ll let it slide.” 

“Gee thanks,” you laughed. “Come to the arcade often to try to pick up a date?” 

“Can’t say I do,” he nodded, his basketball game beginning. He continued conversation casually as he picked up ball after ball and made it into the hoop. “I will say it’s nice to flirt and actually entertain the idea though. I’m constantly surrounding by my members. I hardly get to think about dating.”

“Ah, so this is a special occasion,” you nodded. “I’ll consider myself lucky.” 

“I’m the lucky one,” he smiled. “I just happened to hear my song from across the room and had to investigate. When I saw you, how could I possibly not wait to introduce myself?” 

“Your confidence level is baffling,” you chuckled. “I guess I would be confident too if I was-”

“NCT’s Johnny,” Johnny laughed in unison with you. “I get it now. You’re totally trolling me.” 

“Happy you’ve caught on,” you smirked. 

“I get this strategy,” he hummed. “Bully the guy you think is cute. I think I remember a girl doing this to me once in grade school.” 

“Why mess with a method that works?” you joked. You glanced up as the lights on Johnny’s game began to flash, signaling that he would be moving on to the next round. 

“Come here,” he cooed, grabbing you again by the elbow as he steered you toward the game. You felt as if you were in a cheesy romantic comedy as he reached around you and placed a basketball into your hands. 

“This isn’t really necessary,” you said quietly. “I was watching you play.” 

“And I want to help you learn,” he whispered, so close that you could feel his breath near your ear. “You said you weren’t especially good.” 

You remained quiet as he lifted your arms gently with his hands and helped push the ball from your palm. It landed with a successful “swish” through the hoop, causing you to grin. 

“See,” he breathed. You glanced over your shoulder, your face incredibly close to his. “You’re much better than you thought.” 

“Johnny, I can’t,” you groaned, walking through the prize area. 

“You will take my tickets and you will not argue about it,” he insisted, close on your heels. “The only way for either of us to get anything remotely satisfying out of this area is if we combine tickets.” 

“I am completely at peace with the idea of a Chinese finger trap,” you muttered. “And an eraser shaped like a butterfly.” 

“Actually, if you get the finger trap, you wouldn’t have enough for the butterfly eraser,” the prize attendant muttered, punching numbers into her calculator. 

“See!” Johnny gasped. “Take my tickets, please!” 

“Fine,” you grumbled, spinning toward him. He managed to stop quickly enough as to not slam his chest into your face, but instead caught you subconsciously in his arms. 

“Uh...” you whispered, trying to remain calm. “You have to pick out my prize though.” 

“Deal,” he said quietly with a small nod. Letting go of you, he weaved his way through the crowd, his tall frame disappearing amongst the couples wandering around in an attempt to find the perfect prize. 

You stood awkwardly in the midst of the circulating arcade-goers, unsure of where to actually wait. After a few moments of internal struggle, you finally saw Johnny’s face appear above the crowd, slowly navigating his way back to you. 

“So according to the relatively rude counter woman,” Johnny sighed. “I had enough tickets for this.” 

He pulled a plush lion from behind his back and smiled. “And I had enough left over for this.” 

From his opposite hand he held a small notebook with a matching pen. 

“Uh...thanks,” you chuckled. 

“Believe it or not,” he grinned, pushing both prizes into your arms. “You may find the miniature notebook to be a bit more useful.” 

“Johnny!” Yuta’s voice called over the crowd, interrupting your exchange. “Johnny! Let’s merge tickets!” 

“Ah,” Johnny chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at his rapidly approaching member. “I should probably deal with that. It was truly lovely, Y/N.” 

Before you could say anything, Johnny gave a small bow before sprinting in the opposite direction. Your own friend had reappeared just as Yuta had, her face red, and her bangs matted to her forehead. “How’d it go?” 

“Good,” you nodded shortly. You motioned to the prizes in your arms and sighed. If only you had gotten his contact...

Wait....

You glanced down at the notebook, almost incapable of catching your breath. “A bit more useful.” 

You flipped the cover of the notebook open and smiled. Surely enough, there were several letters scrawled on the first page, making up Johnny’s kakaotalk id. 

“A bit...what?” your friend muttered, attempting to glance at the items in your hands. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you grinned, shaking your head. “Let’s go home, okay?” 

[cbwalive]

CBWA GREAT BOGOTA BASH 4

Live from Bogota, Colombia

Welcome everybody to The Great Bogota Bash!!!! 

I’m Gorilla Monsoon alongside Bobby “The Brain” Heenan and Bobby what a we have in store

You can say that again Gorilla, tonight one man’s dream will be made and one man’s dream may become a nightmare because my money is on the boss Mr. Schneider and Roberto Gibson will be his servant tonight

Well that remains to seen Brain also tonight we have four title matches and what about the big battle royal where the winner of the battle royal will go on and main event to face the CBWA World Heavyweight Champion at our biggest event of the year Drug Wars 5

I have an inside scoop that told me a lot of surprises will happen in this battle royal, some old faces and some new

Well I can’t wait for that Brain as we now take you to the ring and the Fink

Ladies and Gentleman welcome to The Great Bogota Bash!!!!! The opening contest is scheduled for one fall and it is for the CBWA Tag Team Championship

Introducing first the challengers at a total combined weight of 534LBS here Councilman Tom Zenk, Big Bubba Bogota, City Hall!!!!

Do they look ready or what Gorilla?

That is certainly the case Brain but don’t discard the champs and here comes AuZZtin and listen to this crowd

And their opponents first weighing in at 247LBS he is one half of the tag team champions Stone Cold ZZ AuZZtin!!!!

I don’t understand why people like this guy Gorilla

Well all you have to do is listen to this capacity crowd and if you think they are loud now just wait till his tag partner comes out and here he comes and listen to that pop

His partner weighing in at 237LBS he is the other half of the tag team champions Roberto Gibson!!!!!

I feel like this is his night Brain even with all the cards stacked against him, look at the determination on his face

That’s gas Gorilla he’s a nervous wreck

Will you stop? Champs are in the ring as we are about to get this match underway and wait just a minute, you know what that music means?

Oh yeah Gorilla the boss is here and would you look at that suit wow!!!!

Definitely dressed to the nine’s but what is the purpose of this?

Um sorry to interrupt but as I said on Super Estrella I wanna make sure Mr. Gibson loses fairly so I have appointed a “special” referee for this match and don’t worry its not me I’m getting prepared for the main event, now this person personal called me and wanted to be apart of the show and what a better way to do so, so without further ado I like to introduce the “special” referee……………….Garth Lane!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Are you serious Brain? What is this? Garth Lane? We haven’t seen him in months

And look at him Gorilla, a new haircut new look, he’s somewhat normal

Yeah I wonder who has been taking care of him? And look at Roberto’s face as Mr. Schneider is loving this on the ramp

As the bell rings we are underway and its AuZZtin and The Z-Man starting this one off, I can’t believe Garth is the special referee, you wonder what else Mr. Schneider has in store for Gibson and this is only the first match as ZZ now nails The Z-Man with a Lou Thez Press now ZZ against the ropes and down with an elbow, quick cover here and Z-Man is up at 2, now ZZ with the arm and tags in Roberto who comes off the top and now a dropkick to The Z-Man, cover by Gibson and Garth a little slow with the count, come on ref

He tripped Gorilla

Yeah he tripped, I can see the writing on the wall Brain and now Z-Man drives his shoulders to Gibson to the corner, Bubba with the tag comes in and nails Gibson right in the ribs

Bubba has been waiting on this for a longtime now

Gibson is in a whole lot of hurt leg sweeps Bubba and tags ZZ in and here comes AuZZtin

This is not good for the challengers as Mr. Schneider is still on the ramp looking on

He looks a bit nervous indeed Brain as ZZ looks to ready for a gator stunner and wait Brain it’s the Miz with a chair and my god right between the eyes

Boy did he waffle him or what?

He sure did but the ref didn’t call for the bell, that’s a blatant disqualification

Oh and look at ZZ Gorilla he is busted wide open

He sure is Brain this is all but over as Roberto is trying to get ZZ to tag but he is being cut off by City Hall and look at this Brain Roberto has had enough

He has lost it Gorilla

He has just had enough as he is cleaning house and now wait a minute look at this Garth is grabbing Gibson from behind

Don’t you hit him Gibson that is an official

Oh!!!! A crescent kick to Garth, now to Bubba and the Z-Man

What is wrong with him Monsoon? He has lost his mind

He has just had enough Brain and now look at this Gibson dragging ZZ to their corner and now Gibson is looking for the tag, ZZ is coming through

He is a bloody mess Gorilla

He sure is but look at the heart as he is almost there to tag in Gibson and………….wait a minute what’s this? Gibson jumped off the apron Brain

Now what is going on?

ZZ is looking puzzled and my god Gibson just gave him the bird and he is walking away

What is this about Gorilla?

I have no idea, I didn’t know the champs were at odds as Gibson now is walking up to the ramp where Mr. Schneider is lets listen in

You win, go fuck yourself, I quit, good luck on your main event

What? Did he just walk out? 

Meanwhile in the ring ZZ is up looking for Gibson turn around ZZ and oh big Bubba Slam cover 1,2,3 you gotta be kidding me

Yes finally justice is served

Lets go to the Fink

The winners of the match and NEW!!!!!!!! CBWA Tag Team Champions, City Hall

City Hall the new champs but the bigger story is what Gibson just did, wait Brain im being told Kenny is backstage with Roberto lets go to Kenny

Roberto, Roberto what happened out there?

You know what Kenny, im sick of you I’m sick of Bubba, im sick of that worthless partner ZZ and most importantly im sick of John and his crap. I’ve had enough of this, I’m a hall of famer for crying out loud and this is how im being treated? I’m going back to Smokey Mountain at least they still respect me there and Schneider says he will fire me and I will never be in the CBWA again? So be it this is the absolute last time you will see Roberto Gibson in The CBWA and since we are PPV……FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!

I’m at a lost of words back to you Gorilla and Bobby.

Well I still don’t understand what is going on with Gibson, meanwhile what about ZZ? You saw the condition he is in and he still has a big match up ahead for the CBWA South American Title

And most importantly Monsoon the loser has to kiss the winners ass and as far Gibson goes its obvious Gorilla he couldn’t take it anymore, he knew he was in a lose lose situation you can’t blame the guy

Well in any event its going to be very interesting to see what is going to happen in the main event as you can see the ring crew is getting ready for our next match A Columbian Death Match, this is not going to be for the weaken heart Brain

You are correct about that one Monsoon this is going to be great, 2 men that hate each other with a passion to go this length both of these men are going to come out of this never the same

We are just ready but before we head to the ring Kenny is now backstage with the boss Mr. Schneider

Mr. Schneider what are your thoughts about what just went down with Roberto Gibson?

Well Kenny, as many of you know me and Mr. Gibson have never seen eye to eye and unfortunately when you are live on PPV a lot of real life things can happen, now as you also know we here at the CBWA always put card subject to change and this will likely be the case for the main event, however im going to do my best to get ahold of Mr. Gibson and see if he will obligate his contract and face Mr. Goldberg, the main event everybody wants to see

Thank you Mr. Schneider we will look forward for an update back to you Gorilla

Thank you for that update Kenny we will mostly definitely be waiting for the update, well the ring is ready its time for the Columbian Death Match as we take you down to the Fink

Ladies and gentleman the following contest is The Columbian Death Match!!!!! The rules are simple there are no rules the only way to win is by TKO. 

Introducing first weighing in at 263LBS Bogota OX!!!!!

Ox bringing out his own supplies her Brain

Is that a kitchen sink?

Sure does look like, everything but the kitchen sink? I think not as we go back to the Fink

And his opponent to be accompanied to the ring by his father Frank Converse, weighing in at 235LBS, here is Boltsy!!!!!!!!!!

Great ovation for Boltsy as the Big Man Frank Converse is by his side

I don’t see the resemblance Monsoon

Well a lot of people say the same thing as you Brain but wait look at this Boltsy charging with a light tube and oh my he nails Ox on the head and look at the glass flying everywhere

Get up Ox I have to pick up my Lincoln tomorrow morning

Will you stop? And look at this Ox is busted wide open

This is not good Gorilla

Boltsy now taking a barbwire bat and now he is grinding Ox’s head oh my god

He is a madman Monsoon

Well Ox made this so personal, as we know he costed Boltsy last month in the Intercontineal tournament and also denied his  dad Frank Converse a car at his dealership

Come on Gorilla we know that bum has no credit

Be that as it may Boltsy felt he had it out on him and look at Boltsy go as he is not letting up on Ox, now Boltsy has a table, this is all been Boltsy and what is that in his hand Brain

Is that lighter fluid?

Looks to be just that Brain and he is spraying down the table but from behind look out Ox has a that barbwire bat and from behind he nails Boltsy ands look at the bat

Oh my god it is stuck in his back

Ox trying to pull it out and oh this is hard to watch, finally gets it out and Boltsy back is gushing blood everywhere, Ox now taunting Frank who is outside looking at this and wait a minute Brain looks like the big man has had enough and he is now in the ring with barbwire chair

This is not fair, Ox look out

Frank is about to hit Ox but just a second he now turns his attention to Boltsy and what the hell did we just see?

He nailed his son with the chair Gorilla

And now look at this, Ox and Frank are now double teaming Boltsy, Frank is telling him to light the table, what is this Brain

It looks like a father has had enough of snot nose kid

The table is on fire and now Frank is setting him up for the powerbomb and oh my god he just powerbomb him through the table, Boltsy is on fire, the ring crew with the fire extinguisher are putting out Boltsy, give me a break are you kidding me? Bell rings and lets go to the Fink for the announcement

The winner of the match via TKO, Bogota Ox!!!!!!!

And now look at Frank screaming at an unconscious Boltsy as we listen

All I wanted was your love son, all I wanted was your love

You heard him all he wanted was his love but what kind of love is that?

That Monsoon is called tough love.

Lets now go backstage to Kenny who is with Foot Von Erich

Thank you Gorilla I’m here next to the challenger for the CBWA Intercontinental Championship

Let me cut you off right there baby, you are looking at the next CBWA Intercontinental Champion, I mean look at me baby, I’m in the best shape of my life and look at our current champion not in the best shape and he has a bum knee and he is about to go out there in a two at of three falls with me, now you tell me Kenny who has the upper hand?

Well that looks to be you Foot

Exactly Kenny, Hot Stuff you are a great champion no doubt the longest reigning CBWA World Champion, you are indeed great but you are old and your time has past and its time for The Foot to claim what his mine, now if you excuse me I have to go collect my belt baby

Well there you go Gorilla and Brain a very confident Foot heading in the two out of three falls back to you

Thank you Kenny a very confident Foot indeed as we take you to the Fink

Ladies and Gentlemen the following is schedule for a 2 out of 3 falls for The CBWA Intercontinental Championship

Introducing first the challenger weighing in at 257LBS Foot Von Erich

He wasn’t kidding Monsoon he is in great shape

Indeed he is Brain as you go back to Kenny with the champion

Hot Stuff you heard what Foot said how’s your knee doing and what are your thoughts going in this match?

Kenny I’m not going to lie, my knee is killing me so I guess you can say I’m going in as the one legged man in an ass whipping contest, but let me reassure all you fans something I didn’t go through the top stars of The CBWA to win this title only to lose it, I will prevail and I will walk out still the CBWA Intercontinental champion

There you have it Gorilla as the champ is heading towards the ring, back to you

Thank you Kenny and listen to this crowd as the champ is making his way to the ring, lets go to the Fink for the announcement

And his opponent weighing in at 234LBS,m he is The CBWA Intercontinental Champion, Hot Stuff Eddie Gilbert

Take a look at knee brace Monsoon he is definitely not at 100%

Absolutely not but as he said just a while ago nothing is going to stop him as referee Nicholas Patrick holds up the beautiful Intercontinental title and the bell rings and we are underway, collar and elbow tie up and whoa look at Foot with an arm drag

He is ready Monsoon

Absolutely he is Brain as he is now doing jumping jacks, the champ gives him a nice applause and another collar and elbow tie up and now this the champ with the arm drag and now he’s doing jumping jacks and look at Foot’s face Brain

Who does he think he is? How dare he embarrass Foot like that

Oh but its ok that Foot did it? Give me a break and now Foot coming after the champion and whoa what a dropkick 360 and over the top Brain

Foot you have to take your time, don’t let him rush you

You sound like you’re managing there Brain

Not at all Gorilla just advice if I was his manager this match would already be over

Sure it would be, back in the ring now and Foot gets another dropkick and now a backslide referee with a cover and he got him

What????? What happened?

The Champ caught Foot sleeping Brain and took the first fall as we go to the Fink

The winner of the first fall, Hot Stuff Eddie Gilbert

Gilbert takes the first fall and wait a minute Brain a cheap shot from Foot on that injured knee

There you go Foot take advantage of the knee

Will you stop you are supposed to be a buyest commentator, the champ is in pain and now Foot tells referee Nicholas Patrick to start the next fall, he rings the bell and now Foot is putting on the figure four the champ in pain has no choice but to tap out

We are tied Monsoon

Lets go to the Fink for the announcement

The winner of the second fall by submission, Foot Von Erich

Oh look at Foot he is telling the ref to start the next fall again

Come on Ref start the fall

You know he has to check and see if Gilbert is good to go

Who cares Foot is ready ring the damn bell

Well there you go bell rings and wait quick roll up by the champ 1,2,3

Noooo!!!!

Lets go to the Fink with the official announcement

Ladies and Gentlemen the winner of the third and the match and still!!!! 

CBWA Intercontinental Champion, Hot Stuff Eddie Gilbert!!!!

What a performance by the champion the will to come through as we take you backstage to Kenny

Thanks guys I’m here with The CBWA South American Champion Bogota Miz and Miz you are moments away with you kiss my ass match with AuZZtin your thoughts going in

My thoughts? Really? Really? My thoughts are you have to be the worst interviewer in the history of pro wrestling, my thoughts are simple, I’m the CBWA South American Champion, ZZ is posing as a wannabe badass who is going to give me an ass whopping, What!? Tonight I show the entire world who the real ZZ is and he will pucker up those lips and kiss my nicely tanned ass, I guarantee it because I’m the Bogota Miz and I’m……………Awesome!!!!!!!!

Back to you guys

Well certainly a lot at stake here as the South American title is on the line as we take you now to the Fink

Ladies and Gentleman the following contest schedule for one fall is for the CBWA South American Championship, introducing first weighing in at 245LBS Stone Cold ZZ AuZZtin

You see the bandage on his head Brain, I wonder what is going through his head

Probably not a lot the way he talks

Will you stop? I’ll have you thrown out of here if you don’t quit

Fine alright I get it Monsoon

Lets go back to the Fink for the introduction of the champ

And his opponent weighing in at 237lbs he is the CBWA South American Champion, The Miz!!!!!

The champ looking great

Where’s Maryse?

I’m not going to tell you again Brain and look at this ZZ is after Miz on the ramp he has The Miz now and bringing him in the ring, bell rings and we are underway and oh a blatant low blow by the Miz and now runs ZZ into the ring post, looks to me Brain that ZZ has opened that wound up again

Oh definitely has Monsoon

Miz now going after that open wound and the crowd trying to get ZZ back going, Miz with whip into the ropes and look at this

Oh boy what a great idea a sleeper hold Gorilla

Certainly is Brain as he is cutting off the oxygen to the brain

But there is nothing up there to cut off

Stop I mean it, crowd getting into chanting ZZ’s name as ZZ is starting to get up and one elbow to the gut and now another elbow and he breaks the hold and now ZZ is making his comeback, right hand to the champ

Get up Miz

The Champ seems to be in trouble Brain, ZZ whips the Miz into the corner and is stomping a mudhole in his ass and walking dry as our good friend JR would say

Come on Miz

ZZ looking for him to get up looking for the Gator Stunner but The Miz reverses it and nails the Skull Crushing Finale!!!!! Cover 1,2,3 get out of here

Yes!!!!!!

Lets go to the Fink for the announcement

The winner of the match and still CBWA South American Champion, The Miz!!!!!!!

Talk about an upset but Brain ZZ is still down and hasn’t moved, referee calling for EMT’s, The Miz has the mic

Hey don’t call them in here pucker those lips up pal here comes the full moon, what do you mean he’s not responding? Get out of my way

Oh look at this disgusting behavior as he puts his rear end on ZZ’s face, the real story though Brain is ZZ has not responded or moved since he took the finisher

That’s how devastating the Skull Crushing Finale is

As we look at the replay you can see the top of ZZ’s head go right into the mat, oh I can’t watch, EMT’s are getting ZZ on the stretcher we will keep you updated folks as we now go backstage with Kenny and the Boss

Thanks guys I’m here with Mr. Schneider hopefully with an update on the Main Event?

I indeed do have an update for you and I just got off the phone with Mr. Gibson and he informed me that he will be back and will face Goldberg for The World Heavyweight title, now if you excuse me I’m getting ready for this battle royal

Yes Sir, thank you sir, well you heard it first guys it looks like the Main Event is still on, back to you

That’s great to hear I’m sure Roberto went to go cool off and thought about his miustake

Or he realized he has no where else to go

Either the main event is on as we now get you ready for the battle royal as we take you down to the Fink

Ladies and Gentleman it is now time for the battle royal, now the rules are simple in order to be eliminated you must be thrown over the top rope and both feet must touch the floor, two superstars will start and every minute another participant enters the battle royal, the last man standing will be the winner and will earn a shot for the CBWA World Heavyweight Championship at the biggest event of the year Drug Wars 5 and now without further ado lets see drew number 1

Oh it’s the Deadman Brain

Turn the lights back on

Will you stop? Lets go back to the Fink to see who drew number 2

And now lets see who drew number 2

Its Party Jannetty another BS Service member this should be interesting and look at Party, is he telling the Underfaker to take the fall?

Party must of partied to hard if that’s the case

And look at this as the Deadman grabs Party by the throat and throws Party over the top and gone

What a moron Monsoon

Certainly is as you see the clock for our next entrant

Oh look Brain it’s the Shockmaster

We haven’t seen him in some time

Certainly haven’t and oh it looks like the Shockmaster hasn’t been in a ring in awhile as he trips over the ropes and Underfaker throws him out

Well it was nice seeing him for a sec

That’s for sure as we are counting down to our next entry

Its Bogota Bam Bam and he is running to the ring look at this Bam Bam and Underfaker going at it, Bam Bam come off with a closeline and he nails the deadman over the top 360 he’s out of here

Wow very impressive by Bam Bam Monsoon

Absolutely impressive by Bam Bam as number 5 is on his way……………..its the phenomenal one AJ Styles

And look at AJ Gorilla, taking his time very smart

Certainly is Brain as AJ is just about to enter the ring our next competitor is about to make his way down now

Its Brian Withers

A great competitor but talk about an entrance my god what is this?

This reminds me of the Dark Scorpion entrance Monsoon

Who? Anyways meanwhile in the ring AJ and Bam Bam are going at it as our next competitor is on his way

Its Greg Ganja

Ganja indeed he looks ready as he bypasses Withers and now  Bam Bam and Ganja are double teaming AJ now and he is almost over

Hang on AJ

He’s hanging as our entry number 8 is coming out

It’s the Repo Man

Oh no Bogota Repo Man and look at this Brain he is scooping out whatever that thing is that’s hovering Withers to the ring and Repo now hooking on Withers ride and towing it away

Wait a minute Withers is still on there

Well it looks like he didn’t make a payment he’s out of here as our next competitor is on his way

Its BS member Blaster Lashley

Look at the size of this man? He’s huge, now in the ring and he automatically eliminates The Repo Man, oh now look at this stare down of Bam Bam and Lashley as our next entry is on his way

Its Steve Ryder

The Powerhouse and I know Kenny;s personal pick as we are half way through and Ryder Ryderlines Bam Bam over the top, There goes Bam Bam, oh but from behind the big man Lashley, but wait Ryder with a suplex,

Is he really calling for the PileRyder

He sure is Brain. But im with you I don’t about this but look at the strength as he has him up

Wow

And down goes Lashley and now Ryder throws him over the top as our next competitor is on his way, it’s the Columbian Dragon and listen to this crowd

“si, si,si,si,si,si,si,si,si,si,si,si,si,si,si,si,si”

What are they saying Monsoon

Clearly its Si which is yes in Spanish Brain

I know what Si means I was just checking on your Spanish skills

Don’t worry my Spanish skills as the Columbian Dragon and AJ are going it, Dragon whips Aj into the ropes but is reversed and a beautiful dropkick

No Gorilla a Phenomenal dropkick

Please Brain as number 12 is on his way, wait a minute Brain is that The Eye of Falk?

Clearly he’s not in this battle royal

Guess again Brain, im being told he is in this battle royal and wait Ganja is trying to help him and gets thrown out by Ryder for his efforts and now Ryder grabs Falk gorilla press over the top he is out of here as we have The Columbian Dragon, AJ Styles and Steve Ryder in the ring as we wait for number 13, oh my god its Roddy Hart

Where did they dig him up Monsoon?

Well it looks like he has been working at the local Wal Mart as he still has his vest on for crying out loud, Hart makes it in the ring and is immediately closeline over the top by AJ, crowd not happy with that as we wait for the next entry

Would you look at this? It’s the Midnight Rider Monsoon

Midnight Rider indeed number 14 another but look at this Rider and Ryder are face to face and Ryder now kick to the gut and throws out the Midnight Rider, well that didn’t last long as we wait for number 15, its John Seenya, boy has Bolin gotten him in shape or what?

He looks like his old self Gorilla

And look at this Seenya and AJ are now going at and The Dragon and Ryder are also going at it as we await number 16

Its Foot Von Erich

Foot coming off his loss earlier today hoping to win this battle royal as he is helping out Seenya and trying to eliminate AJ and out goes Styles

No Monsoon he only has one foot out

You are right about that but I don’t Von Erich and Seenya knows that

Turn around boys

Flying forearm both men are out but wait Brain, did Foot’s foot get tied up on the ropes?

That is what it looks like Gorilla

A little controversy here, I don’t know Brian, Seenya definitely eliminated but Foot is making a case as number 16 is about to come out

Its Rico

Rico the number 16 competitor making his way to the ring and would look at this Brain is he winking at Steve Ryder? Oh big mistake as Ryder just annihilates him oved the top and out goes Rico, its still down to The Columbian Dragon, AJ and Steve Ryder as number 17 is next

What?

It’s the Ultimate One GODBOLD and look at this as he is sprinting to the ring as he is goes after AJ but AJ ducks and Godbold is out just like that as number 18 is out and oh my god Brain business has just picked up its Frank Converse

Oh my god the former World Heavyweight Champion and he and Ryder have locked eyes look at this stare down

Wait a minute Brain no way that’s Boltsy and has a lit barbwire bat and nails Frank who jumps over the ropes and out he goes, Boltsy chases after him as number 19 is out now and look at this Brain its Big Bubba one half of the new Tag Team Champions and look at this Bubba now going after The Columbian Dragon and wait a minute look who it is Brain

Oh my The Mayor is here

And now helping Bubba eliminate The Dragon what is that about? Now Ryder from behind closelines Bubba and out goes Bubba, its all down to AJ, Ryder and the man who drew number 20 and of course should of known its Raman Reigns

What an advantage he has

I smell a rat, so its Ryder Styles and Reigns, one of these men will main event Drug Wars 5 and challenge the champion as AJ and Reigns double team Ryder but Ryder nails both with a closeline, Ryder now with Styles and there goes AJ but wait from behind Reigns but wait Ryder sees it ducks closelines Reigns and Ryder has done it as we take you to the Fink

Ladies and Gentlemen the winner of the Battle Royal and now the number one contender Steve Ryder!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ryder points at the Drug Wars 5 sign as the pyro goes off

I can’t hear you Gorilla.

Thank you guys and what a great victory for Steve Ryder, I hope he lives up to his end of the deal and I get some finger smelling, anyways im here with the CBWA champion Goldberg and champ a lot has happened, at first we didn’t know if we were going to have a main event when your opponent Roberto Gibson walked out but according to Mr. Schneider Gibson will be here for your match, your thoughts?

I don’t care who it is Kenny, Gibson or Santa Clause I don’t care put anybody against me their next

Well there you go Gorilla the Champ is ready and heading towards the ring back to you

Thank you Kenny as it is indeed main event time as we take you once again the Fink

Ladies and gentlemen  the following contest is set for one fall and it is for The CBWA World Heavyweight Championship, introducing first the special guest referee, he is the head of creative of the CBWA, Mr. John Schneider

to the course of boo’s for Mr. Schneider

How dare you and these people Monsoon

He can’t hear Brain stop sucking up as now Mr. Schneider has the microphone

Earlier tonight we had what we call a shoot in the tag team match at which Mr. Gibson decided to walk out, but I wouldn’t let all of you people down that paid your hard earn money to see this match, so I was the bigger man and called Mr. Gibson and asked him to comeback not just for the money because I had to shell some out and pay him, but for the fans and he is a man of his words so without further ado allow me to introduce the number one contender, Mr. Roberto Gibson!!!

Well here comes the challenger and what in god’s name is this?

What Gorilla that is clearly Roberto Gibson

You know damn well that is not Roberto Gibson, it looks to be some imposter what is this? As the champs music hits lets go back to the Fink

And his opponent weighing in at 268LBS he is The CBWA Worlds Heavyweight Goldberg!!!!!!

Here comes the man Monsoon

The champ is jacked and ready but I still wanna know who this Gibson imposter is and look at the Champ Brain he even knows that’s not Gibson as Schneider calls for the bell and we are under way as this imposter guy is trying to intimidate the champion, are you kidding me?

Gibson sure does have some balls

That is not Roberto Gibson

You can fool me, that is Gibson

Will you stop? Now look at this goof strutting around and the champ has had enough with a devastating spear

Oh my god Gorilla, Gibson is cut in half

For the last time…. Oh forget now Goldberg has this imposter up for the Jackhammer and down he goes cover 1,2,3 and another victory for the champ and Schneider grabs the mic

And the winner of the match and still CBWA Champion Goldberg!!!!!

Well Goldberg is not sticking around for this as he heads to the back, Schneider turning his attention to this imposter guy

Now as for you Gibson…..

Did he just call him Gibson

See I told you that was him

Quiet lets hear what else he has to say

A deal is a deal and well you lost so starting this Thursday you will be my servant and the first thing I want you to do bring me my coffee

Yes sir yes sir I will

That’s a good Gibson, you see what happens when you cross the boss?

Well I’ve had about enough of this for Bobby “The Brain” Heenan I’m Gorilla Monsoon so long from the Great Bogota Bash!!!!!!!!!!!

[kashmiresims]

Winner Takes All

First Post | Previous Post | Next Post

Reggie had never been so frustratingly angry before. To learn that he was being blacklisted from a fraternity that he had the right to be in, to know that the object of his affections wasn't any closer to reciprocating those feelings, and to know his robot could likely not make the cut to get into the collegiate robotic championship all weighed his mind down until his thoughts were nothing but a whirlpool of darkness.

He was still consumed with them by the next day but had at least gotten to work on his robot after meeting with his father. That was one step closer to solving the latter problem.

He went back to the engineering building Sunday afternoon. No surprise, Shane Calhoun was also there fiddling around with his pathetic luxury gardening robot. Who needed such a thing? Was there a demand for a service so dull?

Information was a commodity—the ability to gain knowledge and use it against your enemies or in your favor. Now that was worth something. Shane of course, didn't say anything to Reggie and vice versa; both young men were on chilly terms, especially now that the mayor's election was so close and their fathers were toe-to-toe in the polls.

They had been classmates, not close, but cordial enough in high school. Shane didn't exactly put himself out there but then again, Reggie wasn't the most social boy either. He briefly looked to Shane, who was ignoring him and tightening up his robot chassis, and still felt a pang of regret for snapping at Alanna and driving her away—and into helping Shane the previous night.

Shane eventually left, docked his robot in its stand and Reggie took the rest of Sunday, well into the evening to finish programming his spypot to accept audio feed. He tested a recording, it sounded faint, so he cracked open the robot and adjusted the microphone to be near the bottom. Alanna had been right about the sound being more clear from that point.

Now it was Monday; he stayed in his apartment all day, playing Rush Hour and grinding out wins like it was nothing. Every win would gain an amount of in-game credit he could use to purchase custom car parts and upgrade the racing vehicles he used. He hoped that Violet_Fire would return soon so he could show it off, and then if luck permitted, win a race against them again. They were the only one, it seemed, to be good enough to make a race interesting—because he never knew for sure if he'd win against them.

Then just like that there was a *ping* and a chat box appeared in the corner of his screen.

Violet_Fire: Wanna race?

MegaZoom: k if ya wanna lose : P

Violet_Fire: Keep dreaming you N00b ;)

Reggie smirked. They were just trying to shake him up before he began. He went to main screen and started up a co-op game. Violet_Fire immediately entered into the instance and picked a classic car with a high-ranked engine they must have bought through in-game credits. Reggie's custom racing car, was a sports car with an engine that had top speed stats. He had put together and, it was in his opinion, a perfect racing engine for this game.

Violet_Fire: what is this?!?!?!

MegaZoom: :D

He wondered if they would chicken out and withdraw but they stayed in the instance. Stubborn as usual.

Violet_Fire: lets race the valley map

MegaZoom: why, so you can make tighter turns and try to get past me?

Violet_Fire: I don't need tight turns to beat ur behiney ;)

There was that word again. Alanna had said it the other night. What were the chances...the cosmic chances of her being his Rush hour rival all along?

MegaZoom: Wanna bet?

Violet_Fire: I do ;P

That took him by surprise. He was only joking around but now he was intrigued...

MegaZoom: What do you want if happen you beat me? Not that it'll happen

The ‘Violet_Fire is typing’ notice seemed to last forever before their message was submitted.

Violet_Fire: I want your custom car

That was untoward. You could trade cars in the game but Reggie's custom car was worth hundreds of hours of grinding and racing randoms. What would be worth the equivalent? He still wondered if Violet_Fire could have been Alanna Thackery, but was that information worth the potential loss of his custom car?

MegaZoom: If I win, how about you get on the voice chat channel and trash talk me without hiding behind a wall of text?

Violet_Fire: Fine lets do this

Though, Reggie immediately had a flick of nervousness in his gut and dryness in his throat because on the off-chance Violet_Fire was Alanna, she would surely recognize his voice! Would she think he was stalking her all this time? He had gone to some length to find out her class schedule but that was only recently when he realized how much he still liked her and it was handy to know where she'd be on campus so he could conveniently 'bump' into her. Evelyn Jane had done stuff like that in the past and he always thought it was dishonest but he could see the merit in it now.

Another *ping* interrupted his thoughts, Violet_Fire was impatient to begin and told him to start the game already. So he did.

He selected the valley map, which had its roads through tunnels, across rivers and especially tight turns. It wasn't his favorite but he'd won races on it before. The trick was to drift on the corners and his custom car had a sweet drift, fine-tuned to withstand the sharp curves of the road.  

The screen counted down 3...2...1 and Reggie slammed the up arrow on his keyboard, dragging his mouse to the left. His car peeled out and was hair ahead of Violet_Fire's. The first bend was a corner but not the sharpest and he drifted around it with ease. Annoyingly, so did Violet_Fire.  

His heart sank a bit as they passed him and took the fork in the road that was a shortcut on the map, but had more perilous obstacles. He didn't ever take the shortcut because of them. So he relied on his speed-tacular engine to make up the time as he made up the distance.  

He came up behind Violet Fire's car and gave them a bump of warning, but not enough to send the off road into a crash. He managed to get ahead after passing the start line. They had two more laps to go.

He maintained first place all throughout the second lap but then the third the tides changed when Violet_Fire spun out and took him down as well. All momentum was lost and it was a scramble to get the cars pointed the right direction and the speed up again. That dirty move put them back into first place and Reggie couldn't lose! He just couldn't! He was tired of losing all the time!

So instead of taking the safe path, he was desperate enough to try the shortcut to make up the lost distance. He was already behind and so he took a calculated risk to see if it would pay off. He avoided getting stuck on a collapsed bridge and drove through a waterfall, finally a dark tunnel with no light until he turned a corner. He sometimes ran his cars into the tunnel walls when he took that map shortcut. Finally, the light at the end of the tunnel appeared and he hit his booster. His sports car nearly flew out of the shortcut and landed in front of Violet_Fire, who must have thought their win was inevitable since he was so far behind and therefore didn't bother taking it in the first place.

He nearly flipped his keyboard in excitement after zooming across the finish line in first place. He'd get to keep his custom car, and talk to his biggest racing nemesis voice-to-voice. To find out if they were who he suspected they were. He quickly typed in into the chat box.

MegaZoom: I'm on the RH05 channel.

He flipped his headset microphone to ‘on’ and had to swallow a few lumps in his throat. It was just a race in a video game but his adrenaline was high. A second later Violet_Fire's avatar popped up in the voice chat—it was of a purple flame. Plumbbobs, what was he going to say?

"H...h..hi there," he stuttered out but lowered the register of his voice significantly.

"I want a rematch," came the clear voice of Violet_Fire. Definitely female, definitely familiar and his heart seemed to stop beating and all the saliva in his mouth dried up entirely.

"Sore loser much?" he finally asked. It had seemed like minutes between when she spoke but in all-reality was only a few seconds. He would never speak in this way to Alanna face-to-face but it would just make her suspicious if his online persona suddenly started being super nice for no reason.

"I thought crashing into you would have pushed you far enough behind, and I never would have thought you'd take the shortcut on the valley map."

Reggie laughed, "I knew you wouldn't."

"Anyway, I got on chat like you wanted. What now? Want me to trash talk you like you asked?"

"I didn't ask you to trash talk me! I just figured it'd be interesting to hear you do it with your own voice."

It was kind of surreal, to hear her talk so candidly. It made him wonder how calculated her words were in a regular basis; he’d always assumed her kind words were the norm but she was really quite brash behind the mask of anonymity.

"So, you're a girl,"

"How observant of you," she snapped back before he could get to his point.

"No, I knew when you first talked but I'm wondering if I could ask your advice on something?"

She made a long, low sound that gave of the impression she was apprehensive or even inconvenienced, "Suuuuurrreee."

"What is your idea of a perfect date?"

"Why are you asking?" she teased.

If she only knew.

But he was glad he had the upper hand and she didn’t know who he really was.

"There's this girl I like and was going to ask her out but I haven't been on a date for years..."

There was nothing but silence, and he dreaded she recognized his voice or figured out his identity but after a few moments, her voice rang through with a suggestion--"Take her stargazing."

"Stargazing?"

"Yeah, like cuddling under the stars or something. I know it's pretty nerdy and all but I'm just kind of fascinated about the galaxy, are we the only ones out here? You know? I had a telescope when I was little, but my sister kept hogging it and we'd fight over it."

It was even more evident the person he was talking to was Alanna with that fact. He knew she had a sister, and her sister was kind of unpleasant and snide from what he remembered. He could feel for poor little Alanna being bullied away from her telescope and her suggestion and anecdote only made her more adorable.

"Hey, it's okay. I mean we do play a lot of video games so that makes us nerdy anyway, right?" he tried to reassure her.

"Speak for yourself, video games are the new cool!"

He laughed as did she and he felt more at ease, like he was talking to her normally as if they were chemistry partners in high school again. Well, all besides his lowered voice, which he had been careful to maintain the lowered tone as he talked as not to arouse suspicion.

"How long have you been playing Rush Hour? You're pretty damn good." Reggie asked.

"I started about a year ago. My brother gave me a link to download the free trial and it got me kind of hooked on it."

Reggie recalled that Alanna had a brother as well.

"How did you get into it?" she asked in turn.

"I saw it was a recommended play in a gaming magazine and so went out and bought a copy. I've been playing since I started college."

"What college?"

"Sim State. You?"

"I didn't say I went to college."

He inwardly cursed for giving away info that he knew more about her than she knew he would know.

"But do you?" He asked, covering over his blunder, “I mean you sound like you could be a student.”

"I do and I am."

"Where?"

"I think...I've given enough personal info for one day. Good luck on your date and let's race again soon, Zoom." she said then added, "That is, if you want to lose!"

With that, she disconnected and he wasn't even offended by her last needling comment.

How could it be that a girl he thought was perfect had somehow become even more so? What was more perfect than perfection? Divinity? Was Alanna Thackery, in fact, a goddess?

He stood to stretch his legs because he'd been sitting for a while at his computer. The lightness he felt at winning, and knowing that the girl of his dreams was his one and only gaming rival made him feel as though he could lift off the ground at any moment--happy enough to fly if he could. He only took a few steps back until he felt the bed frame behind his knees and fell onto his mattress with a heavy sense of satisfaction. Something, something had gone his way for once.

His imagination ran wild thinking of what other games she could have played, a fierce spark in her eyes as she raced, the determined smile between her lips when she was focused on winning. He fantasized about this side of Alanna he'd never seen—the competitive, sassy, unapologetically candid version of her.

Picturing her, in all her perfection behind closed eyelids--made him smile and hope that his plan to ask her out would work. He could plan her idea of a perfect date and then she’d have no reason not to fall for him.

A different *ping* sound suddenly went off--a faint little note coming out of his headphones which he had taken off before standing up. It was a chat box on a tab he’d left open on a web browser. He sat up, and curiously went to check it out.

The web page was sitting on the student profile site--a place he often visited to see if Alanna had added any new pictures or updates he could use as conversation fodder the next time he saw her. She hadn’t messaged him though. It was, to his very ultimate surprise--Marshall Cosgrove.

Marshall Cosgrove: Hey u there?

Reginald Orbinson: Yeah why? What do you want?

Marshall Cosgrove:  Meet me at the coffee shop on the east edge of campus.

Reggie felt himself frown. Why would the Hoh Fruhm President suddenly be interested in meeting with Reggie when the day before he had made it clear that Reggie was never going to be allowed in?

Reginald Orbinson: Why would I?

Marshall Cosgrove: Cuz I have a proposition that could get you in.

He didn’t have to specify as to what Reggie could get ‘in’ and Reggie felt like his luck was on a roll that evening. If he got into Hoh Fruhm, everything would be right in the world. 

It was downright chilly outside, and Reggie could feel himself shivering in his jacket even. There weren’t any cricket chirping which had been a constant for the past three seasons. The night felt kind of lonely as he made his way to the edge of campus. He was to meet Marshall Cosgorve at the same coffee shop where they had seen each other the day before. Reggie headed toward the entrance, eager to get out of the cold but a voice stopped him.

“Orbinson.”

He halted and looked to the right to see Cosgrove backed up against one of the decorative fences that contained a tree with his arms crossed. The front of the coffee shop was a charmingly landscaped area that he didn’t mind sitting in between classes when the weather was nice. 

“Cosgrove,” he nodded and approached, waiting to hear what Marshall had to say, “Why the change of heart?”

Marshall merely glowered, as if he didn’t want to be offering Reggie a way in but he had no other choice, “To put it plainly, I need you to get some information on someone--I can’t use any of the guys at Hoh Fruhm because we are all being watched rather closely after today.”

“Why, what happened today?” 

Whatever it was that was bothering Marshall, seemed to explode as he threw his arms out, “We got raided! The police showed up on an anonymous tip that illegal substances were being used at our parties. They found pills, and now the charter is in jeopardy--Hoh Fruhm is on probation!”

“But not double-secret probation?” Reggie asked with a smirk. Marshall wasn’t amused by the reference and he slumped back against the fence.

“I’m sure I know who tipped the police off; the guy that left the frat a week ago--and the entire Greek Society like he was better than us.”

“Okay but what do you want me to do about it?”

“I want you to get some dirt on him. I’ll use it to ruin him. If he thinks he can just walk away and then drag us through the mud afterward then he has another thing coming. You get this information on him and I will let you join the vacancy he left behind.”

Reggie felt himself shiver but wasn't sure if it was because of the cold or the absolute hatred and determination in Marshall's voice. Reggie’s cleared his throat, he didn't know who this person was yet but it was possible that it would be impossible to deliver what Marshall wanted, "What if I can’t find any dirt on him?”

Marshall let out a scornful laugh, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree as far as the Calhouns are concerned. Nick’s dad is one of the slimiest son a bitches I’ve ever seen and you can probably agree since he’s running against yours in the election. So help me get dirt on Nick–he’ll go down like he should, and you get into the frat you've been wanting to all these years. It’s a win-win.”

Nicholas Calhoun.

Now there was a name that Reggie hadn’t heard for a long time. Reggie didn’t have to think long about the offer, because unbeknownst to Marshall, Nick and Reggie weren’t on friendly terms anyway. He had no emotional conflict in trying to cause Nick any embarrassment or hurt Marshall would have him suffer. It wasn’t like Nick Calhoun ever considered how much his words would affect young Reggie–getting every kid in school to laugh at him on a weekly basis when they were children.

But as much Reggie wouldn’t mind digging up dirt on Nick, he wanted more than what Marshall was offering for it.

“If I can get you the information you want to bury Nick, I want a position in the frat--vice president.”

Marshall nearly growled in response, “I can’t guarantee that, those positions are voted on by the members every semester...”

Reggie whirled around, a knowing frown plastered on his face, “The Calhouns aren’t the only slimy son of bitches in Kashmire--your father orchestrated the entire election between my dad and Elm Calhoun. You haven’t been fraternity president all these years because of your popularity, so don’t  tell me you can’t rig your own house elections.”

Marshall’s livid expression let up slightly at being called out, seeming to mull over Reggie’s demand. Reggie wasn’t naive, he knew Marshall would try to find a way to screw him over once he got what he wanted, especially now that he’d demanded a place of rank within Hoh Fruhm. He half expected Marshall to withdraw the offer but to his surprise, the blond straightened up and nodded.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can move around--but only if you get what I want. Nick Calhoun will pay for what he’s done.”

“Shake on it,” Reggie demanded and Marshall lifted his arm, extending his hand. Reggie took it in a firm grasp and they shook. It was a good thing Marshall came to him for this task--Cosgrove likely banked on Reggie’s desperation to join the Greek society as a sure way to obtain what he needed but Reggie could do one better. He had a spybot and that made all the difference between failure and victory.

[fairyrink]

Bet On Me

Reggie x Reader

A/N: This is my first ever fic and I hope you all like it!! Requests for all other Riverdale characters are open!! (This is my first fic because Reggie is bae)

Word Count: 3369

Warnings: Swearing, slight angst, violence, heavy make-out session (is that even a warning?)

Summary: Reggie is dared to date Y/N, the sweet and popular untouched cheerleader. He does so, although not expecting to fall for her in the process.

School had started again, and with that so had the gossiping and the backstabbing. Summer had changed everyone. No, it wasn’t just the mysterious death of Jason Blossom, but it was also the puberty that managed to hit someone different every year. But then again, some people stayed the same; just like Chuck Clayton.

“God she’s so hot, why does she have to be such a fucking feminist?”

Chuck was the kind of guy who didn’t care about his actions or his words. I learned that through experience. So when he started to talk like that, I only liked to see who his next prey would be. My eyes followed his only to land on Y/F/N Y/S/N. She was the type of girl that everyone wanted to date. She wasn’t only kind, but also beautiful. Puberty hadn’t changed her apart from giving her the glorious body that she now owned.

“Just because she’s a feminist doesn’t mean that she won’t date anyone Chuck.” He looked at me with a frown, which was soon replaced by a challenging grin.

“Oh yeah? Then why don’t you go and give that theory a try Reggie? I bet you won’t even manage to score one date.” I smirked, accepting the challenge straight away.

“And I bet that I can last two whole months with her.”

“Alright Mantle, loser owes the winner one hundred bucks and lunch for a month.” Oh there was no way I was passing this up. Besides, who couldn’t resist Mantle The Magnificent?

“Deal.”

Reggie had to admit, he had never been so scared to ask out a girl. And as he got a good look at her from across the hall he finally realised what the whole fuss was about. Y/N wasn’t just some hot girl, no, she was way more than that. She was intelligent and excelled at every class, as well as managing to be a part of the drama club so that she could pursue her dream of being an actress. But it didn’t finish there, oh no, she was also a cheerleader, the co-leader if you will, which gave her the undeniable status of Cheryl Blossoms best friend.

And seriously where did Chuck get off on calling her hot? Y/N wasn’t hot, she was a goddess. A goddess that fell from the heavens into this shitty earth and into this even shittier town. Everyone knew that she had the charisma and the talent to get what she wanted but that was really it. And that’s when it dawned on Reggie that no one actually knew her. Not really. She was a mystery to everyone, and yet everyone acted like they knew her.

But none of that mattered. No, he had made a bet and of course, Reggie Mantle never backs down from a bet. Especially since it’s just asking some girl out.

Mustering up the last bit of courage he made his way to the Y/H/C haired girl who was putting away some books in her locker. He cleared his throat, getting her attention quickly. Her Y/E/C eyes looking up quizzically through her lashes - which he thought was the cutest thing ever - only for her whole head to tilt up to properly look at the tall male.

“Hey Y/N.” I smirked at her, whilst also leaning against the lockers beside me.

“Umm hi Reggie? What do you want?”

“I was wondering if you would like to come to Pop’s with me after school? You know to talk and stuff?”

“Right. And since when do you want to hang out with me Mantle?” And there it was. The sass that rivalled Jughead’s oh so well.

“Can’t a guy just ask a girl out with no ulterior motives?” I sighed, great so this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought it was going to be.

“Oh sure he can! Just not someone like you.” She fluttered her eyes at me sarcastically and grinned. I scowled, this was definitely not how this conversation was going to end.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you’re the biggest playboy in this town, right after Chuck of course, and that I will not go out with you, ever.” Ouch. Well she’s got a point.

“Look I know I don’t have the best of reputations but I really really like you. I like the way you always tuck you hair behind your ear because it’s always falling out of place, and I like the way you smile when you’re reading something you like and you think no one’s looking. Hell, I even like the way you always bite your lip during a football game because you’re worried that we won’t win. Please, just one date so I can prove it to you. If you don’t like it then I’ll leave you alone and won’t ask you out ever again.” By the time I finished my speech (which, by the way, I don’t know where I pulled from) Y/N was as red as her best friends favourite lipstick, her mouth slightly parted trying to form words.

“O-Okay. But just one date alright?” She quickly looked down when her eyes met mine and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at her shyness.

“Great! I’ll come and pick you up at 6:00pm at your house, okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I-I mean whatever.” And with that she quickly ran away leaving me with a satisfied smirk on my face.

Like I said, easy.

Y/N knew it was a bad idea when she agreed to go out on a date with Reggie Mantle. He was just a whole load of trouble and she didn’t need that. And if she were to be truthful it wasn’t even her fault. It was Reggie’s. Him and his stupid words and his stupid smile and his stupid perfection. She couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t interested because she was. She had had a crush on Reggie since she could remember and that silly crush then turned into more until he then developed into the hotness he is now and she just couldn’t call it a crush anymore. But she knew what Reggie had turned into, she saw it everyday when girls cried and he laughed with his friends. And that’s why she decided she couldn’t try and pursue her feelings. Reggie Mantle was bad news, so she had to keep her feelings for him a secret.

But secrets just don’t stay hidden when your best friend is Cheryl Blossom. So when she ran to her after getting asked out by Reggie, obviously the first thing she would say is: “Oh you are going to look hot as hell tonight!” And that is how she ended up missing her cheerleading practise. Just to look hot for Reggie Mantle.

“And done! Honey you are going to literally break Reggie. Oh he has never seen and will never see someone as hot as you. You are going to kick ass tonight Y/N, I know it.” Cheryl stood behind me proud, with her hands on her hips lightly nodding at my appearance. I looked in the mirror, assessing myself. I was wearing a short red skater skirt with a white fitting tank top under it. I had a simple velvet black choker that matched my velvet high heels. And to set everything I was wearing only one coat of black mascara with winged eyeliner and bright red lipstick.

“Cheryl you do realise we didn’t have to cancel practise today just for this, right?”

“Well duh, but you needed time to calm down because your star-crossed lover finally asked you out and because I’m a great best friend I will do anything in my power to make you comfortable.”

“You’re absolutely crazy Cher-” I got interrupted by the distinct sound of my doorbell ringing.

“He’s here! Oh and right on time. Dedicated? Check. Come on Y/N go and rock his world.” I gulped, realising that I was seriously not ready for this date.

Cheryl pushed me toward the stairs giving me her thumbs up. I sighed and walked down the stairs mentally preparing myself for what was waiting for me on the other side of the door.

“Hey-” Reggie didn’t finish his sentence as he looked at me up and down. His cheeks started to redden as he finally looked at me in the eyes. “Wow - I mean you look great Y/N.”

“Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself. Oh and are those for me?” I gestured to the set of roses he was holding in his left hand, whilst looking at his attire. He was wearing black trousers with a white shirt that accented his muscles in all the right places, finishing it off with a red bomber jacket. I tried not to squeal at the fact that we were matching and held my hand out to take the flowers from him.

“Oh yeah. I didn’t know what your favourite flowers were so I just got the best looking ones.” I giggled at his facial expression while I went and put the flowers in a pot.

“Well thank you. My favourite flowers are violets, but roses come in a close second.” I smiled up at him once I finished placing the roses in a crystal vase my mum left at the back of our cupboard. “You ready to go?” He nodded.

“You know, for a girl that doesn’t want to go on a date you seem pretty happy about it.” My eyes widened as he slowly started to smirk at me.

“W-Well you asked me to give you a chance and I did. Even if I didn’t want to it doesn’t mean I can’t try and have fun.” I stuttered, mentally slapping myself for lying so badly.

“Whatever you say Princess. Now come on, I’m going to give you the best night of your life.” I took his hand as we headed to Pop’s smiling the whole way.

“Y/N! Hey, Y/N! Have you seen my jacket anywhere? Y/N?” Reggie called out as he walked down the stairs in his house to the kitchen looking for his letterman jacket. Looking inside for his girlfriend of two-months and a half, he grinned finally finding what he was looking for.

He chuckled in a deep town as he leaned on the door frame and looked at the said Y/H/C making breakfast in his jacket.

Just his jacket on.

“Y/N, I’ve been looking for that jacket you know.”

“Oops sorry.” She giggled as she put a plate of eggs and bacon on the table. “I didn’t hear you.”

Smirking at his girlfriend, he made his way towards her to wrap his arms arms around her waist and kiss her gently on the lips. “I gotta go Princess.”

“Already? But I just made breakfast. And this is the last day we have together before your parents come home.” She frowned as she placed her hands around his neck.

“I know but I have extra football practise today and being the new quarterback I can’t miss anything. Besides, my parents are probably going to leave again anyway.”

“Come on Reggie… Stay a little longer, please? At least have some breakfast before you go.” She whined making him chuckle and shake his head in disapproval. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N… I’ve turned you into a bad girl haven’t I?” He asked making her giggle and shake her head. “No, Reggie, good girls are bad girls that just haven’t been caught yet.”

He quirked his eyebrow up at her, his in-famous smirk appearing on his face as Y/N him the plate of eggs and bacon.

“You’re crazy.”

“You love it.”

“You were great Reggie! I think you’re the best quarterback that we’ve ever had.” Y/N said as she hugged her boyfriend tightly.

“Trust me I know. There hasn’t been even one game we’ve lost since coach made me the new quarterback. And besides with a girlfriend who’s the best cheerleader how could I fail?” Reggie returned Y/N’s hug by picking her up and spinning her around, putting her down just so he could take off his helmet and kiss her softly.

After they both got changed in the changing rooms they met up outside ready to leave to go to the after party which was being thrown by none other than Cheryl Blossom.

“Y/N wait. I have something for you.” The said girl turned around curiously only to be met with a small blue box in front of her. Her eyes widened when Reggie opened it, as it revealed a necklace with a small infinity sign. She gasped as she saw the two engravings of her and Reggie’s initials. “Oh my God, Reggie it’s beautiful. But why?”

“I want you to always have me there with you. To know that I’ll support you through everything all the time. Think of it as a good luck charm.” Reggie grinned at Y/N as he turned her around and put it on her neck, gently kissing her neck before letting her hair fall back down.

“I love you Y/N.”

“And I love you, Reggie.” She said while putting her hands around his neck and kissing him. In a matter of seconds they started to kiss quicker, with more passion. Reggie bit Y/N’s lip, asking her for permission to enter. Y/N eagerly consenting by opening her mouth to let his tongue start exploring her mouth. She met his in the middle, their tongues fighting over dominance which Reggie soon won. Reggie brought her closer to him as he kissed her harder, grabbing her ass in the process. Y/N instead moved her hands up into his hair grabbing it and pulling it, making Reggie moan into her mouth. But before things could escalate anymore they were interrupted by a loud car beep. They both pulled apart quickly, Reggie groaning at the people who sat in the car.

“When you guys are done having sex in front of the school gates we’d like to go to Cheryl’s party.” It was none other than Chuck and Moose smirking at them both. “Come on, get in the car.” They both sighed, finally letting go of each other to walk up to the car. Reggie took the front passenger seat whereas Y/N sat next to Moose in the back. As Chuck finally started driving, he smirked at Reggie starting a conversation.

“So Y/N, I didn’t take you for a girl that dated jocks.” Reggie shot Chuck a threatening look, but Chuck continued talking.

“What do you mean?”

“Well you must know about our reputation and well our bets right?”

“Of course I do. I don’t get what this has to do with my relationship with Reggie.”

“Well you guys have been dating for three months now, I would’ve thought you would’ve left him by now. You know since you passed the two month mark.” Y/N looked at Chuck quizzically, not understanding where he was coming from.

“Chuck, shut up.” Reggie growled out, not ready for this conversation by any means.

“No Chuck, continue. What do you mean?”

“Well me and Reggie bet that he could only date you for two months but obviously he did way more than that. Tell me, did he also take your oh so precious virginity?” Y/N’s eyes widened, tears prickling her eyes as she looked at Reggie for any sign of what Chuck had just said of being a lie, all while she held the necklace that Reggie had just given to her. As she saw Reggie’s head down, not looking at her she scoffed trying to hold back tears.

“Stop the car Chuck.”

“Aw out so soon? But we haven’t even gotten to the party babe.”

“I said, stop the car Chuck.”

“Okay okay. Just calm down alright?” Chuck slowly came to a stop, letting Y/N get out of the car. The moment she was out she slammed the door. Making Chuck cringe but not say anything as he could tell her mood wasn’t one to mess with.

“Goddammit - Y/N wait!!” But she didn’t stop. She just kept walking away. Reggie turned around, scowling at Chuck.

“What?”

“Are you fucking serious now Chuck? Couldn’t you keep your mouth shut just for once in your goddamn life? I was going to fucking tell her in my own time!” Reggie was practically fuming, his hands balled into fists, struggling to not punch his so called best friend in the face.

“Dude, calm down. All I did was tell her the truth, not my fault she couldn’t take it. Besides, you’ve had your fun with her now, what do you care about her?”

“Didn’t it occur to you that maybe there was a reason I hadn’t broken up with her yet? Maybe that I actually liked her?”

“Ok Reg, listen. I get that you maybe are pissed that now you don’t have anyone hot to fuck anymore but it’s cool! I’ll find you someone real quick. And look on the bright side, you even won the bet.” With that Reggie punched him square in the face, Chuck’s face hitting the window of the car creating a crack in the window as well as blood flowing out of his nose. “Dude, what the fuck?!”

“I don’t want your fucking money. I loved her, Chuck.” And with that he got out of the car, running after Y/N in the night.

“Y/N? Y/N wait!” Reggie ran after the girl finally catching up to her.

“What do you want? You won your bet and proved Chuck wrong, just like you wanted. I’m no use to you now.”

“No it’s not like that! I mean it is but-”

“Oh just shut up Reggie. Listen to yourself, you can’t even lie.”

“I’m not here to lie, Y/N. I want to tell you the truth. So please, just listen to me.” As he said it he grabbed her arm, finally turning her towards him only to look down at her tear stained cheeks. His eyes widened pain flashing across them. She never responded so he continued to talk.

“That’s what it was, a bet, in the beginning. I had only approached you because of it. And that’s all it was supposed to be. But-but then I started to get to know you, and I wanted to keep learning more about you. Until I found myself thinking about you constantly and I just couldn’t get you out my head. Y/N it started off as a lie but I really did fall for you. And I’m sorry - God I am so sorry - for it to have started out like that but I am in love with you and my feelings won’t change. It’s not a lie. Not anymore. So please forgive me Y/N, I can’t live without you, I just can’t.” By the time he had finished pouring out his feelings to her he had his hands around her cheeks, his thumbs gently cleaning away the tears that were falling down like a waterfall.

“Fuck I hate you so much Reggie.” His eyes widened, slowly dropping his arms next to him, looking defeated.

“I hate how I actually fell for your stupid act and I hate how much of a dick you are. I hate how I’ve liked you for so long and actually believed that you were a good guy after all. I hate how even now I want to forgive you and I hate it how I still want to be with you. And what I hate most of all is that I still fucking love you.” She choked as she sobbed, her hand gripping his shirt tightly. Reggie held her tightly though, hands around her waist as he waited for her to let everything out.

“Reggie?”

“Yeah?”

“Forever, right?”

“Forever.”

[haughtbreaker]

Thank you so much for the reviews and comments y’all have been leaving. @jaybear1701 and I appreciate all of them. The posting schedule is going to have to be pushed back starting next chapter. Updates will be made on Mondays now to let y’all process episodes over the weekend. :)

“I was in your arms thinking I belonged there, I figured it made sense, building me a fence, Building me a home, thinking I'd be strong there, But I was a fool, playing by the rules The gods may throw a dice, their minds as cold as ice, And someone way down here loses someone dear The winner takes it all, the loser has to fall, It's simple and it's plain, why should I complain.”

    Nicole shook her head as the yellow convertible full of young, boisterous women went screaming down the road, their music turned up so loud that the bass rattled her bones even from a distance. Some things never change, Nicole thought. She couldn’t remember how many times she had stopped a car filled with bored Purgatory teens looking for a little excitement and inevitably finding trouble.

  Nicole had half a mind to call dispatch and have them tell whoever was on highway patrol to keep an eye out for the convertible. She doubted the number had changed in the past two decades. But she didn’t. That wasn’t her job anymore. She had left the cop back in Purgatory all those years ago and in its place stood a criminal defense attorney who hoped the young women didn’t end up with a reckless driving charge or worse.

  The sound of squealing tires pulled Nicole’s attention away from the disappearing blur. She turned and saw a red SUV peel out of its spot down the street. She thought she caught a glimpse of familiar brown hair and she nearly went into cardiac arrest. But the car and its driver were soon long gone before Nicole could be sure. She inhaled sharply, taking in the familiar scent of dust and gasoline fumes that always seemed to permeate downtown Purgatory, and marveled at how ridiculous she was being.

  What were the chances of seeing Waverly Earp the second she set foot in town? Slim to none, she knew. She barely resisted the urge to smack herself upside the head for being so foolish. And yet, for some reason, her chest continued to twinge as she watched the car drive away.

  Before she could dwell on it long, the hotel’s bellhop, a young man who barely looked 18, approached. Something about him looked… familiar… but Nicole couldn’t quite place why.

  “Welcome to the Wainright,” he said cheerfully, straightening out the ill-fitting red cap that sat crookedly on his shaggy hair. “Can I take your bags, Ms…?”

  “Nicole,” Nicole answered, feeling an inexplicable need to keep her identity a secret. Though, she wondered if the kid had even been born when she was last in town. She popped the car’s trunk. “I appreciate it.”

  Nodding eagerly, he retrieved her luggage and waited patiently as she checked in. He walked beside her as they moved through the lobby toward the elevator. Nicole had to swallow past a lump in her throat when they came across the grand staircase where Waverly had once taken Nicole’s breath away. In a shimmering seafoam dress, Waverly had looked like a -- what had Nicole written on her blog all those years ago? A mermaid, Nicole remembered. A perfect, radiant mermaid.

  She kept her gaze trained straight ahead even as the memory of Waverly’s smile, and the way it had made Nicole’s heart stutter out of rhythm, played crystal clear in her mind’s eye.

  “Are you here ‘n Purgatory for business or pleasure?” The bellboy interrupted her reverie when they stopped in front of the elevator.

  Torture , Nicole almost said. But she bit her tongue and plastered on a smile instead. “Pleasure.”

  “The wedding?” He asked knowingly as he pushed the call button. Off Nicole’s startled look, he added: “Lucky guess. It’s the only big thing happenin’ ‘round these parts, if you don’t count Christmas o’ course.”

  “Right.”

  “Bride or groom?”

  “Bride.” It wasn’t a lie, per se.

  They stepped inside the elevator. The boy pressed the number 4 and whistled. “Whitney Earp. I swear she is the prettiest, sweetest girl in the whole town.”

  Nicole couldn’t stop herself from smiling at that tidbit. Like mother, like daughter . The bellboy continued rambling when they got off on the fourth floor. “I’ve always had a huge crush on her. Don’t tell her I said that now.” He wagged a finger at her. “She and my big sis used to babysit me.” He eyed Nicole curiously. “How d’ya know the Earps?”

  She wanted to tell the kid it wasn’t any of his damn business. But being defensive would just call more attention to herself. And she wanted to keep as low a profile as possible.

  “Her mother and Aunt, we go a ways back,” she said. They finally reached her hotel room, and Nicole hoped the kid would drop his small-talk interrogation already.

  “Ms. Waverly’s terrific too.” He unlocked the door and led her inside, placing the suitcase on a fold-out luggage rack. “As for the deputy…” He made a face that coaxed a chuckle out of Nicole.

  “She’s something else,” Nicole offered along with a couple of dollars.

  “That’s one way of puttin’ it.” He gratefully accepted the tip with a nod. “Enjoy your stay, Ms. Nicole. If you’ll be needing anythin’ else, do lemme know. Name’s Nedley. Randolph Nedley. But everyone calls me Randy.”

  Nicole did a double take. “I’m sorry, did you say…?” She shook her head. “Are you related to Randall Nedley?”

  Randy beamed. “He was my papaw.”

  Was.

  Guilt surged within Nicole. She had gotten the funeral notice, but hadn’t been able to attend because she had been in the middle of a huge trial. If she was being completely honest, a small part of her had been somewhat relieved. She had wanted to remember Nedley as he had been -- gruff and unpolished and very much alive . She hadn’t wanted to see him lying in a box. Lifeless. A glaring reminder of their mortality. She also hadn’t wanted to see Waverly. There was only so much heartache Nicole could take.

  Did that make her a coward? Yeah. It probably did.

  “I was sorry to hear about his passing,” Nicole said earnestly. She made a mental note to bring flowers to his grave. “He was a good man. An even better friend. And a terrific sheriff.”

  Randy’s smile grew even wider. “You knew him?”

  Nicole nodded. “Used to be one of his officers.”

  Randy smacked his leg and hooted. “Well I’ll be hot damned. Small world.”

  “Who’s the sheriff now, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “My ma, actually, if you can believe that.”

  Nicole nearly choked on her own spit. “Chrissy?”

  “Yes ma’am.” Randy hooked his thumbs on his belt, now looking so very much like a younger version of Nedley that Nicole mentally kicked herself for not seeing it sooner. “Gonna follow in both their footsteps someday. Hopefully.”

  “I have no doubt you will.” Nicole smiled. “It’s in your blood.”

  Randy grinned and dipped his head forward. “Remember, if you need anything…”

  “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  He nodded one last time, pleased, and left room. When the door clicked shut, Nicole wasted no time. She unzipped her suitcases and meticulously unpacked. She took her time, pulling out her pants and shirts, underwear and socks. She laid them neatly in the hotel’s dresser. She made sure to hang the dress she brought for the wedding in the closet, which smelled like mothballs and must. She placed her toiletries in the bathroom. Grabbed the bucket next to the small coffee pot on the counter and fetched ice from down the hall. She did everything she could to avoid texting Waverly to tell her she was in Purgatory.

  Eventually though, Nicole had done everything that needed to be done and she found herself sitting on the edge of the mattress. A dull ache formed in her chest that crept down her arms and numbed her fingers. It was hard not to recall how she used to dream about becoming Purgatory’s sheriff, keeping the town safe with Waverly at her side. But it just… wasn’t meant to be.

  She pulled out her cell phone, which notified her that she had several missed calls and emails, most work related, and a couple of unread texts from her sister.

  Becky: Where are u????

Becky: It’s almost Christmas Nicole ffs

  Nicole rolled her eyes. She didn’t reply. Instead, she input the number Waverly had emailed to Nicole in reply to her wedding RSVP. Slowly. One-by-one. She wasn’t brave enough to call it. She took a deep breath and typed out a quick message:

  Hi. I’m here.

  Her thumb froze, suspended over the send triangle. She could still turn back. It wasn’t too late. It would be so easy to just pack up her bag and head back to her car. Drive out of town and never look back with no one the wiser. But she couldn’t. She was tired of that. So, so very tired of running and avoiding. It was now or never. Clenching her jaw, she pushed send.

    “I’m serious Jenn!” Whitney’s voice could be heard through the thick wooden door as Waverly pulled up to the homestead. She hadn’t expected it to be completely quiet, not with the construction, but she didn’t expect a verbal battleground.

  The drive back from town had done little to clear her mind and heart of the lingering ache 20 years of memories had dredged up, even when she’d driven right past the homestead and circled back around once or twice.

  “Oh my God!”

  Waverly could recognize the sound of her bridezilla daughter easily and she found herself momentarily tempted to dawdle just a bit, maybe drag her heels in the snow. It wasn’t an unfamiliar thought, as she’d done a few times in the past. When she’d hear Gus and her young daughter arguing, she’d always take a minute to check the tires or rearrange the grocery bags, really any menial task she could find before committing to an appearance.

  But just the idea of being alone, allowing the unpleasant memories to impregnate her mind… or even worse, the pleasant ones. The ones that engulfed her with the scent of spicy vanilla and the feel of silky smooth skin under her fingertips. The memories that were beyond senses, beyond touch, but the memory of what it was like to be loved.

  Not just to be loved, but the love that only came from someone you couldn’t live without. It was looking into those eyes and knowing how desperately Nicole had not only loved her, but needed her.

  So no, Waverly decided as she shook her head, she wasn’t going to hang around outside in the cold with phantoms of a life she no longer lived. Besides, she really needed a drink, and to talk to Wynonna.

    “They’re ruined.” Whitney could feel her stress level hitting the roof as she fingered one of the carefully crafted pieces of a centerpiece. They had been meticulously wrapping bottles with twine to be used as flower holders for the centerpieces, each one compiled of a bottle, 3 candles, and a small sand filled glass bowl with a succulent in it placed on a natural cut wooden slab.

  The already wrapped bottles had been put in a crate which had somehow fallen over. With Jenn being the closest, there was no one else to blame, and with half the bottles shattered, there was definitely a need for blame.

  “I didn’t even touch it!” Jenn was helping to pick up the bits of broken glass and twine.

  Whitney sighed as the front door opened, letting in her mother who gave her a look that could only be labeled as cautious. “This is why people elope!” She sighed in frustration, dropping the broken pieces and stalking off towards the kitchen.

  She was looking through the liquor cabinet when Waverly entered, arms crossed over her chest. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture, Mom.” She liberated a bottle of gin after a bit of digging.

  “Well I’m not here to give you one.” Waverly took the bottle from her daughter’s hand. “I’m just here to point out that these damn center pieces need to be finished and I’m not going to let you be drunk all day. It’s bad enough you’ve got those two in there chugging back $5 bottles of wine.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to lecture me.” Whitney complained under her voice, almost a whine.

  “And I thought you graduated kindergarten years ago.” Waverly narrowed her eyes, daring her daughter to respond.

  “Ugh!” Whitney gave up her search for vermouth with a growl. “This is just bullshit! That's a lot of work now in the trash.”

  “Hey.” Waverly stepped up to her aggravated daughter, sliding her arms around Whitney’s tense frame and hugging her roughly until she relaxed. “We’ve still got a few days. We’ll do what we need to do to get everything situated.”

  Whitney sighed softly, trying to take a calming breath. She knew her mother was right, but her nerves were on high alert. Scheming had been fun until she was faced with having to tell Jesse everything. Why hadn’t she consulted him in the first place? There was no reason for it and she was going to be in for a fight.

  Excitement had turned to guilt which then blossomed into anxiety. Adding that to the anticipation of waiting for… the phone on the counter buzzed, catching both her own and Waverly’s attention. Thankfully her mother turned to return the gin to the shelf and grab a bottle of vodka because seeing the name Nicole Haught crossing her screen might have been a little alarming to say the least.

  Hi, I’m here, was all the message read. 20 years and all she had to say was Hi I’m here ?

  Pursing her lips, Whitney felt her heart skip a beat. She was in the same town as Nicole, the woman who had supplied the egg, her biological mother. She’d been wanting this moment since finding the journal. Maybe her life would make a little more sense after meeting her. The woman who contributed to her DNA. Her tall stature and unforgivingly red hair.

  Would Nicole think it was an insult to her? That she dyed her hair?

 Whitney shook her head, looking up to see eyes watching her. She couldn’t risk sending a message while her mother was right there. “I’m gonna... go back to Shorty’s… pick up more empty bottles.” Her words were too delayed, dripping with deception and she had been the daughter of the very investigative Waverly Earp for 20 years.

  Waverly’s eyes narrowed. “Is that all you’re going to be doing?”

  Whitney froze, her blood running cold. She could hear the thud of her heart in her ears and she gave a tight smile. “Of course.” She laughed and she could hear her own guilt. “What else would I be doing?” She begged herself to just shut up, stop talking like a moron.

  Waverly crossed her arms over her chest, saying nothing.

  “Seriously, Mom. We need bottles.”

  A single eyebrow rose. “And you’re not going to say… sneak off and see a certain deputy who’s on duty right now?”

  A wave of relief crashed through Whitney and she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading. “Well… I mean I’m going to be in town anyway. It would just be rude to not stop by.”

  “I knew it!” Waverly cheered herself, turning back to grab two glasses from the cupboard. “You can’t fool me.” Pouring a small amount into one glass, she paused, unsure if she should be pouring the second. “Where’s your Aunt?”

  “Sulking in the barn. I think she’s trying to contact Xavier.” Whitney whispered, passing by her mother so she could get her bag and coat.

  Looking at the one shot, Waverly quickly swallowed it with just a slight wince. She noticed even the James family’s whiskey was no longer on the shelf and she sighed, taking the vodka bottle with her as she moved to the front door where Whitney was wrapping up. “Hey… Aren’t you taking the posse?”

  “No. They need to keep making centerpieces.”

  “Are you ok to drive?”

  Whitney nodded. She wasn’t even buzzed anymore, a fact that was almost depressing. “I’m good. Please make sure they don’t destroy everything.”

  “Mmmhmmm.” Waverly looked at the two that were drinking more than gluing. Practically nothing was going to be done while Whitney was gone and she knew it. She stood in the door, watching her daughter pull away before she looked to the barn where she saw someone moving inside. With a sigh, she took a pull from the bottle of Vodka before heading out the door towards the barn.

    Nicole’s nerves jumbled and jittered with each step she took down Main Street, still waiting for Waverly’s reply. Perhaps chugging down a cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso at the hotel’s cafe hadn’t been the best of ideas. Now her heart wouldn’t stop racing and she felt like she’d pass out from anxiety.

  She tried to focus on anything but her still silent phone, taking in the town after two decades away. At first blush, it appeared as if nothing had changed. Purgatory still seemed like the same mundane municipality that time forgot. Every so often, however, Nicole noticed something different. Nothing astonishingly groundbreaking. But small, blink-and-you’ll-miss-them changes that signaled some form of movement, even if only incremental. The ancient laundromat had been rebranded the Sixpence All the Cleaner Coin Laundry, with more modern machinery than the beat-up, ‘70s-era washers and dryers that Nicole had used. The buildings on the block that included the bank, the surplus store, and the antique shop all had their facades brightened with new paint.

  Hell, even Nicole’s old apartment building was graced with newish shutters, navy blue popping out against red brick with more vibrancy than the previous faded gray. She paused across the street from it and trailed her eyes up three floors to the second window on the left. The curtains were drawn and she wondered who lived there after she had left and whether they had ever repaired the leaking bathroom faucet that Nicole never fixed.

  It was a shitty little place, Nicole recalled. The floors creaked. The rooms were drafty as hell and the radiator heater never seemed to work. She swore she’d seen sheets of paper thicker than the walls. It was nothing like the high-rise condo she now owned in Chicago, with its sleek, modern appliances and pristine views.

  And yet… the cramped little apartment in Purgatory had been home. Never more so than when Waverly was there.

   Nicole sat on a rickety chair at her equally unsteady kitchen table. Waverly stood in front of her, facing sideways so that Nicole was at eye level with Waverly’s bare hip. It was a sight Nicole would normally welcome with a cheeky come on, if not for her shot nerves. For the past 10 minutes, she had been pressing an ice pack to the muscles just behind the jut of Waverly’s hip. Nicole’s fingers had gone numb from the prolonged cold and she hoped that meant Waverly’s flesh was similarly desensitized.

  “You ready?” Nicole asked, reaching up to caress the small of Waverly’s back with her free hand. She heard Waverly take a deep breath before covering Nicole’s freezing hand with a warm palm and squeezing.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Waverly said, glancing down at Nicole.

  Nodding, Nicole removed the ice pack from Waverly’s skin and set it down. Working as quickly as possible, she ripped open an alcohol swab and cleaned the rubber stopper of the glass vial on the table. It was filled with a yellowish oil. Next, she picked up and uncapped a syringe with a long, 18-gauge needle.

  “Jeez, that thing is huge,” Waverly commented, a slight tremor in her voice.

  “Don’t worry, baby,” Nicole reassured her as she pulled back the plunger to the 1cc mark. “This is just to draw out the progesterone, remember?”

  “Right.” Waverly bit her lip, eyes still worried.

  “It’s gonna be okay.” Nicole gave Waverly what she hoped was a reassuring smile before focusing back on the task at hand. She pierced the rubber stopper of the vial with the needle and injected air into it. Turning the small bottle upside down, she carefully withdrew the correct dosage of progesterone. She triple checked that she had the right amount. Her hands shook as she pulled the needle back out and removed it. She replaced it with a smaller one and flicked the syringe to dislodge any air bubbles. Waverly caressed her shoulder. That fleeting, but reassuring touch was enough to ground Nicole. She pushed up on the plunger until a few drops formed at the needle’s tip.

  Nicole looked up once again at Waverly, who watched her with a soft expression on her face.

  “Okay?” Nicole asked.

  “Okay.”

  Nicole wiped the side of Waverly’s left buttocks with another alcohol pad. Once it was dry, she picked up the syringe, holding it like she was about to throw a dart at Shorty’s. She inserted it in one swift jab. Waverly inhaled sharply and Nicole froze.

  “Wave?”

  “I’m good,” Waverly breathed out. “Keep going.”

  Swallowing hard, Nicole pulled back on the plunger to make sure she didn’t hit a blood vessel. No crimson blooms entered the vial. She sighed in relief and slowly injected the progesterone, pushing past the muscle’s resistance. Once she was done, she carefully extracted the needle. Waverly pressed a piece of gauze to her skin while Nicole disposed of the used needles in a sharps container.

  “C’mon.” Nicole stood and led Waverly to the couch where a heating pad was ready and waiting. Waverly lowered her good side onto the cushions and Nicole sat next to her, placing the heating pad on the injection site and massaging the area as gently as possible.

  “I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Waverly murmured.

  “Yeah, baby, we are,” Nicole said, heart expanding at the unadorned affection in Waverly’s gaze. “You and me. We’re gonna get through this together.”

  Smiling, Waverly ran her fingers through Nicole’s hair, lightly grasped the back of her head and leaned forward to place a tender kiss on Nicole’s lips. “Ready for your turn?”

  “More than ready.” Nicole nuzzled the tip of Waverly’s nose. “Let’s make a family.”

  The buzz from her cellphone broke Nicole out of her reverie and she nearly jumped straight out of her skin. She dug a hand in her pocket to retrieve her phone, shaking so hard that she nearly dropped it once she freed it from her jeans.

Meet me at Shorty’s. 45 minutes.

Heart in her throat, she read the text again. Then re-read it. That was just enough time to get cleaned up at the Wainright before heading to the saloon. Nicole glanced back up one more time at her old apartment before turning on her heel and walking away.

She freshened up quickly in her hotel room. Washed her face and brushed her hair. She debated changing out of her jeans and sweater, before shaking her head at herself for being ridiculous. Nicole didn’t want to look as if she was trying too hard. After one last glance at the mirror, where the few strands of gray in her hair and the slight wrinkles on her face somehow looked more pronounced than ever before, she headed to Shorty’s.

Her heart pounded harder the closer she got to the bar, until the roar of blood in her ears was all she could hear as she pushed past the wooden double doors and stepped inside. It was just as she remembered it, the smell of alcohol sharp in the air and an old country song twanging from the jukebox. She didn’t recognize any of the patrons or the servers behind the bar. And no one paid her any mind as she moved further in and slid onto a barstool in the same spot she used to sit when she visited Waverly all those years ago. She ordered a classic martini.

Just as the bartender set the glass in front of Nicole, someone completely unexpected sidled up to her. The strength of his cologne alone should have given him away.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat drug in,” came the grating voice of a person she hadn’t missed once in 20 years.

Nicole resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she swiveled toward the intruder. “Champ,” she said, terse.

Champ Hardy look like a bloated version of himself from 20 years ago, with his slicked-back hair and a scraggly goatee. The years clearly had not been kind.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face ‘round these parts, Haught.” He sneered. “And just what the hell do you think you’re doing here, huh?”

Nicole clenched her jaw so hard she thought her teeth might crack. “That’s none of your goddamn business.”

“Oh I beg to differ.” Champ moved into Nicole’s personal space. His breath reeked of stale beer. She resisted the urge to clothesline him again, for old time’s sake. “Because if you so much as upset Waverly…”

“Dad!” A new voice cut in.

They both turned as a young woman approached, long brown hair trailing behind her. There was… something ...about her. Something so unexpected that it made Nicole’s heart clench and she had no idea why. When their eyes met, the woman hesitated, but only briefly. She focused on Champ and clapped him on the shoulder

  “What are you doing here?” The young woman -- no, Champ’s daughter -- asked him. “You’re supposed to be trying on your tux. Make sure the alterations are all fine.”

  “Right,” Champ nodded, moving away from Nicole. “I didn’t forget,” he said in a way that completely belied his claim.

  The daughter’s eyes drifted to Nicole. “Who’s your friend?”

  “No one,” Champ said. “She was just about to leave.”

  “Actually,” Nicole interrupted. “I’m just getting settled in.” She smiled at the young woman and offered her hand. “I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught.”

  “Whitney,” she replied, ignoring her dad and grasping Nicole’s hand with a warm, dimpled smile that felt achingly familiar to Nicole. Her grip was firm, yet gentle. “Whitney Earp.”

  It felt like the floor bottomed out from beneath Nicole. A wave of vertigo made her unsteady even though she sat firmly on the barstool. “Whitney Earp,” Nicole repeated, her voice sounding hollowing in her ears.

  “That’s right,” Champ butted in proudly, placing an arm around Whitney’s shoulders. “Whitney Earp . My daughter.”

  Whitney made a face and wiggled out of Champ’s grip. “You really should get going, Dad. You don’t want to be late…”

  They continued talking, but Nicole stopped listening, her stomach sinking with the realization that what she had once feared was true.

  “I’m serious, Becky. I’m not cut out for that crap,” Nicole sighed in frustration, pulling the rental car into the parking stall. The town’s parking lot was nearly full as it always was on a weekday in the municipal area. The few stalls along the street had been taken and she cursed the nature of small towns.

  “So you’d rather waste your life being a cop in some backwater shithole? You got a damn 178 on the LSAT, for Christ's sake.  If I'd gotten that,  daddy would have given me a corner office. ”

  “You have a corner office…”

  “After damn near 10 years!”

  Nicole just felt...tired. “I already told mom and dad this. I have a life here. I love Purgatory.”

  “No you don’t. You’re just there for her!”

  “You don’t know anything about my life.” Nicole rolled the window down a crack just to get some air before turning the car off. She’d been gone for three months. A quarter of a year and she couldn’t stay away anymore. Even if she had to pound down the door, she was going to talk to Waverly. She didn’t care that the youngest Earp had changed her number not long after she had left.

  They were only supposed to be on a break, why the hell did she cut off communication? She should have come back then. She shouldn't have let the anger build so much. She had thought the distance would give them a chance to think … absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that bullshit.

  “I know that when you got here you were moping around like a baby until we gave you casework to do,” her sister started in again, “and don’t even pretend you didn’t enjoy helping dad with that deposition last week. You were made for this, Nic.”

  Nicole sighed in frustration. “I don’t really want to talk about this with you. I have to go.”

  “Nic, wait.”

  Nicole hung up the phone, looking at herself in the mirror, running her hands through shoulder-length dark brown hair. Hopefully Waverly wouldn’t hate it. She’d allowed her sister to talk her into it, citing a change was necessary, that it would make her feel better. It hadn’t. She felt like she had lost a part of herself, like she was changing who she was. New hair… bullshit paralegal work for her parents’ firm...

  Waverly was going to hate it.

  Taking a deep breath, she nodded. The thought of entering her apartment after sitting stagnant for 3 months made her cringe so she'd gotten a room at the hotel. She’d check in,  shower and head over to Shorty’s. Or maybe the homestead. Maybe that would be better, to be away from the public for whatever could possibly happen. Waverly did have quite a tempter.

  “JUST STOP!”

  At first she’d thought she’d imagined it, but when she realized it was real, Nicole froze, the familiar voice sounding across the parking lot.  She turned to see Waverly’s rigid form walking right past her car, apparently not recognizing her and stopping at the passenger side of a very familiar pick up.

  “I really don’t know why you’ve got your panties in a twist.” Champ strolled up beside her, twirling his keys around his finger.

  “I’m fucking pregnant, Champ.” The strength of the curse word sounded strange as Waverly crossed her arms over her chest.

  The breath was robbed from Nicole’s chest at the words. Pregnant. She looked back and forth between Champ and Waverly, small puzzle pieces clicking together and revealing a very sickening picture.

  “Well duh.” Champ gave her a look that was very Champ. “You knew that already. You took like 20 of those stick test things.”

  “What the hell am I going to do?” Waverly’s voice wavered. Even from where she was sitting, Nicole could see the tear slipping down a flushed cheek. “I can’t… it’s not…” She shook her head, unable to find the words. “What the hell was I thinking?”

  Champ unlocked the door with a roll of his eyes. “So get rid of it. I mean they got doctors for that, don't they?”

  His nonchalance was sickening. Nicole felt nausea bubbling up in her stomach, fueled by anger and jealousy with a hint of grief. It was taking everything in her to stay seated,  her hands balled into fists, nails biting crescent marks into her palms as she fought the urge to punch his lights out.

  Waverly showed no such restraint.  “You asshole!” Waverly pushed Champ roughly, knocking him back a few feet. “How can you… how…” She shook her head, ripping open the door. “Take me home.”  She growled, slamming the door closed.

  Champ looked around to make sure no one was paying any attention before he shook his head. “Chicks,” he complained, jogging around to the other side of the truck and getting in.

  Nicole felt herself shaking, unfurling her hands to see tiny wells of blood. She could barely breathe, barely think, barely even make sense of the train of thoughts and images running through her had. Pregnant. After almost a whole year of trying and failing, injections and implantation,  all it took was… Champ.

  It was like her heart was breaking into a million pieces. She couldn’t bare to talk to Waverly, not now. Waverly got what she wanted and she didn’t need Nicole to get it. With a shaky hand, she picked up her phone, dialing a familiar number.

  “Are you going to hang up on me again?”

  Nicole watched as the truck pulled out into the street, tires screeching as it headed out of town, tears slipped down her cheeks. There was no way she could stay,  but if it meant watching Waverly and Champ raising a kid together…

  “I’m coming home.” she decided, feeling a Waverly sized chasm forming inside her.  Starting the car, she pointed it in the directing leaving Purgatory. She could hire someone to pack up her apartment.  She didn't ever need to come back.

   Whitney grimaced as she watched Champ leave. She really hadn’t wanted to talk to Nicole with him there. Slipping behind the bar, she noticed Nicole was sitting there with unseeing eyes, obviously lost in her own thoughts.

  Not that she could blame her, Whitney decided as she looked Nicole over. She was… beautiful. Older now, obviously, but she looked… like money. Her clothes, make-up, jewelry… they all spoke of a well-off life, away from towns like Purgatory.

  No ring, Whitney noticed with a small smile. Not that she hadn’t known anyway. Thank god for the internet.

  “Did you want another drink?”

  Nicole jumped, shaking her head to refocus her eyes. “I’m sorry?”

  Whitney pointed to the empty martini glass. “Did you want something else?”

  “Yeah.” Nicole looked longingly at the empty glass before nodding. “Whiskey.”

  With a small chuckle, Whitney grabbed a shot glass, setting it in front of Nicole and grabbing a bottle.

  “So… You’re Whitney Earp. Quite a popular girl around here. ” Nicole picked up the glass, licking her lips in a brief pause before drinking.   

  Whiney nodded, refilling the glass as it was slid forward. She had a million questions. Why did she leave? Didn’t she want a daughter? How could she have left her mother pregnant?

  “I hear congratulations are in order. You’re getting married.” Taking another pause, Nicole looked at the shot longingly before shooting it back.

  “I am.” Whitney rose an eyebrow, refilling the glass. She hadn’t planned on getting her new-found mother drunk, but maybe she could get more information that way.

  “Married… are you even old enough to be getting married?”

  Whitney snorted. It was something everyone brought up. She knew she was young, but she loved Jesse. What difference did it make if they got married now instead of dating for years before they were considered old enough to wed. “I’m 20 thank you.”

  Nicole paused with the shot halfway to her lips, her brow furrowing. “20? Are you supposed to be working behind a bar?”

  With a laugh, Whitney shook her head. “Drinking age is 18, Ms.Haught. This isn’t Chicago.”

  The shot pausing once more, Nicole’s brows rose. “How do you know I’m from Chicago?”

  Whitney could have smacked herself in the head. Instead she bit her bottom lip. She was such a horrible liar. What the hell did she think she was doing with all this? “I have a confession,” she started. When she got no response, she laughed nervously. “I know exactly who you are.” She admitted, watching as Nicole’s eye… eyes that looked exactly like her own, doubled in size.

  Well… she’d committed now. Whitney reached into her back pocket, pulling out the photo and setting it on the bar. “You’re Nicole Haught,” she repeated from their earlier introduction, “and I guess you dated my mom.”

  Nicole’s hand shook as she lifted the photo. She didn’t say anything, instead just quickly drank her shot, waiting for Whitney to fill it again.

  Filling the glass, Whitney felt a little guilty about what she was about to say. “I sent the invitation.” She winced as the shot almost made it to Nicole’s lips before it froze, eyes locking with her own. “I changed the contact info a little bit on it... I guess what I'm saying is my mother doesn’t know you’re here.”

  The shot glass fell from tapered fingers, hitting the bar in a splashing thud.

[card-gays]

Which of your ships could you see getting married and/or having children? And which ones would, at most, just move in together and maybe get a pet?

I love this question!!! But some preamble first: some couples are in lifelong romantic relationships, but don’t actually want to get “married” in a legal sense. Which I only mention bc I do have some ships like that~ And, since I definitely have too many in general, I’m only gonna do a few here. Other than that, you can feel free to ask if there’s one I don’t mention that you want an answer for. ^^ One in particular I left off was Prideship. Which sounds funny considering it’s My OTP, but I know I’m gonna have a mile long answer for it, and I wanted these to be about the same length so.. lol

(Also, prepare to see how different combos weirdly change my ideas for whether or not certain characters have kids/get married.)

So here we go- 

THE COMMITMENT CHART!!

Peachship (Anzu/Yugi):- Anzu and Yugi I can easily see going from dating to getting married. They’re not exactly traditionalists, but they plan on being committed long term, and they love the idea of saying so publicly to everyone they know with a huge commemorative party. So why not! Like, especially after they’re both well established in their careers enough that Yugi can work from anywhere and just location hop with Anzu if she’s going to be abroad for work for more than a few months, or if they need to move so she can work at this one really prestigious theater… Either one of them would absolutely pop the question once they’re sure they’re happy living like that. And the Mazaki-Mutous would be a wonderful couple. As for kids… idk. I know Yugi’d be happy as a homemaker, so that’s taken care of, but I think Anzu would have to have branched out into acting or something first. I’ve heard being a professional dancer and a parent is really difficult, what with the travel, and while she’s said over and over her dream is dancing, her not mentioning kids makes me think Dream First? So I imagine her dream would have to shift to a different career before she’d consider it. After that? Probably yeah.

Rishid/Otogi (Totemship maybe? god help me):- Rishid and Otogi seem like they would be a really really really fun couple, but while I don’t have a hard time seeing them being a serious couple, the endgame couple/marriage headcanons elude me… because I don’t have a very firm grasp on Otogi? ^^” So I can definitely see and headcanon as far as “they date for a few years, have a great time together, and definitely get as far as moving in and getting a dog", but that’s about it. They are absolutely a pair that’d just be enjoying it as it happens, so I can easily think of them as being a long term committed couple, I just need to work on seeing the details. This is absolutely an open invitation for you guys to throw some headcanons at me. xD

Identityship (Rishid/Ryou): (I don’t get the ship name but I saw someone already made one and I’m taking it for now xD)- Okay so… I don’t even know how, but this ship’s really gotten me wrapped up in it. and it’s gonna have to be it’s own post because it’s A Lot. I think it takes awhile for them to get to the Dating stage because they’re both really careful people due to their pasts, and they both really want to be sure it’s not going to be anything that could get between Rishid and Malik’s bond as siblings. But the moment they’re sure everything’s in the clear, they’re near to inseparable. Ryou is a Cuddler if ever I’ve seen one, and Rishid never really had a chance to realize that was something he is Totally About until that first time cozied up on a couch for a movie. They probably move faster than they should for a bit, moving in right away, letting their ~pillow talk~ bridge into talking about their future a lot relatively soon, but somehow for them it just Works. Probably because they’re both totally honest about it. The only hiccup I can see is imo Rishid would absolutely want children, whereas Ryou’s got some anxieties about being 50% responsible for a small human bean. But, considering Ryou’s roadblock are fears capable of being worked through, instead of just not wanting any, I can see him getting on board with the idea all by himself the easiest if he’s with Rishid. I mean… the guy’s not only got experience helping to raise a kid, he’s got experience helping to raise a kid who is partially possessed. As far as well equipped partners go? Rishid’s got that pretty darn covered. (and as for the fears Ryou’s got about what kind of parent he’d be? Rishid’s right there with all the reassurances anyone could need) Their wedding would be simple, I think, but sweet. The people closest to them, a few of their own traditions mixed together in a lovely ceremony, and then Lots of pastries. (who knew Rishid shared his weakness for cream puffs…)

Visionship (Isis/Mai):- Okay so like…. these are No Kids Please people to me. Like they enjoy them, love them even, but… from someone else. Their nieces and nephews (in the traditional sense but also their friends’ kids) are adored and spoiled beyond belief by Isis and Mai, but they are not having kids. They’d rather travel the world and live in peaceful luxury, feeding each other fruit while sunbathing as people look at them in envy and awe. Or blowing exorbitant amounts of money on clothes and makeup and jewelry and perfume. Backpacking across Europe or relaxing in Spain, etc. They’d have a wonderful life together, with 0 regrets to the path they chose. Funnily enough, they are also probably the first of all of them to actually get married. It’s formal, it’s gorgeous, and honestly almost everyone cries when they first look at each other to walk down the aisle together because they are So In Love. The reception is a Party And A Half though. So whichever one of them (or both, if both) wanted to wear a dress definitely has a second one to have a great time dancing in…. Mai probably throws the bouquet, just so she can make sure Malik catches it and watch him have a meltdown trying to hand it to someone else.

The next three are just different combos of the same three people (Yugi/Ryou/Jou), and actually could all function together, so I’ll list them in one go!

Wishship (Jou/Yugi):- I see Jou and Yugi bouncing back and forth on the idea of a formal marriage because it’s not That important to Yugi (though he does want a cake) and Jou’s never really considered it so long as they’re gonna be together anyway. That said, they are fairly sure about wanting kids. Yugi’s always been an “either way is fine” kind of guy, and since Jou is really about adopting some precious kid of his own one day, Yugi is completely for it. If they did get married, they’d probably pick something fun and informal. Small and sweet ceremony, “reception” at a rented out arcade (thanks, Mokuba!)… Who’s ready for some laser tag? Family and friends of the grooms divided up into two teams, with Jou and Yugi as team captains. The losers still get cake but the winners get bragging rights. GO! (the fate of the match actually comes down to Shizuka, a sharpshooter, and Rebecca, the princess of finding cover)

Heartship (Ryou/Yugi):- By contrast, Ryou and Yugi are very sure about wanting to get officially married, and probably talk a lot about it well before the actual engagement. They know they don’t want to get married right away, but hey, they’re comfortable talking about ideas for it anyways…. They land on saying their vows beneath the projected ‘sky’ of a planetarium, with a similar motif for the reception. Their engagement and wedding bands, too. It’s all very sweet, though the vows get kind of existentialist. xD But because (as mentioned above) Ryou’s got some anxieties about it, and because it’s not super important to Yugi, I’m not sure about them with kids. Which is fine. They adopt some cute pets and have fluffy-children instead, plus they make great uncles to their friends’ kids! It’s a wonderful life.

(side note: Atem would be a bit jealous of the planetarium vow idea when he first hears about it. it’s Such A Good idea. Kaiba would offer off-handedly a honeymoon on the rebuilt space station when Atem mentions it. And Atem nearly drops his fork in surprise because they’d never talked about…. that’s the first time he’s…)

Jou/Ryou/Yugi (Cuddleship?):- This is where it all kind of comes together. xD Jou would consider the whole wedding thing a bit more seriously with Ryou involved, because while for Yugi it’s not a very big deal (so he wouldn’t mind if they didn’t do it), it is a pretty big deal for Ryou. So while the three of them initially plan to just be long-term committed with each other, with Yugi and Ryou being married officially as well, their planning would lead him to wonder if, you know, there really is much of a difference between what he wants out of not getting married and what he’d get if he was officially married. And the thing is? There’s really 0 difference for him. So if it really makes a difference emotionally to Ryou, yeah, he can do that. And (answering the very first question Ryou has when he says it) he can happily do it, wants to do it. “It’s just a promise made in front of a bunch of people, instead of in private. I’m okay with that.” Tbh he probably sort of catches some excitement for the idea before he even decides to tell them about it. He still doesn’t get the difference, personally, but he’s really excited and all about what it itself means and how happy Ryou and Yugi will be to plan it with him. As for kids….. okay, anxiety aside, Ryou honestly loves them? They’re messy and expensive and loud and all but made to give you a heart attack… but he loves them, and he’d want to have one. And with two other parents around to help, after a couple years, he feels comfortable bringing it up himself and saying he’d like to talk seriously about possibly adopting a baby. (they do. and name her “Amane”)