#please stop lying for clout; it’s getting old.

[theredtours]

Do you have clean demo?

No I don’t, because it’s very clearly a fan edit. It’s compiled from the original song, the karaoke version (in which you hear more of Imogen Heap’s vocals), and someone’s attempt to recreate the extended bridge instrumental from the 1989 Tour. It’s a good fake, but it’s still fake. No real 1989 demos have surfaced. But if you still want it even knowing this, you can find it on dbree, or on EJAM Music on YouTube (whom I highly suspect is the reason this is getting passed around). 💕

[smokeybrand]

Disappointed

Last year was absolutely bunk for hip hop. I tend not to really mention music on this blog, mostly because I don’t really listen to the radio like, but I did notice a trend that’s been irking me for the last half decade or so. Ever since asshole mumble rappers broke through with their Souncloud clout chasing, Hip Hop has been mired in this cesspool of pedestrian “creativity”. These records don’t deserve any of the airtime they’ve been getting and it sucks because other, legitimately good, MCs are getting passed over for the next Lil Asshole or some baddie with a BBW who doesn’t right her own sh*t. I’ve never been a fan of Cardi B’s music but, let’s be honest, she got as big as she did because she’s “pretty.” Thanks to that blueprint, I get to deal with insipid rhymes and superficial lyrics from admittedly stunning women like Coi Leray and Ice Spice. The latter literally said she doesn’t right complicated or insightful songs specifically so the most people in her audience, can vibe to the music. That’s fine, I don’t mind an occasional, insipidly vapid, pop-rap hit every now and again, but when it’s your intent to flood the market with that sh*t, we have a problem. How are you not a plant at that point? How are you not a shill? IF your verse makes every song you get on worse, why are you even doing music?

I got Sexxy Red out here, hoeing around, infecting me with audible herpes, while Drake is writing diss tracks at Rhianna because she became the mother of not his children. Bro, this is the bar right now? This trash is what the kids are making hot in the streets? I’m going to be forty this September. I grew up on Rap and RnB. Cats used to make records which stood the test of time. Why is Big counted as one of the greats when he only dropped two f*cking albums, one posthumously? What record out right now, or in the last five or so years, not released from and established artist or cats not named Cole or Kendrick, will EVER hit as hard as Juicy? That sh*t is f*cking thirty years old! It was Big’s VERY first single and still slaps harder than ninety percent of records out! Who is making music like that now? Drake? 21 Savage? F*cking Post Malone? I mean, we do get gems on occasion. Man on the Moon III was peak Cudi. I already mentioned Kendrick and J. Cole. Outside of these cats, what the f*ck is going on? My radio is full of Drill music, that Chicago sound, and it’s bullsh*t. I’m just going to say that out loud. It sounds like sh*t and does nothing but breed problems. This is that ignorant sh*t everyone THINKS rap is, that cats from my generation fought so hard against.

Look, I’m not trying to sound like three “old Head who thinks his era is the best and no new music is valid” but seriously? 2023 was the worst year for hip hop in decades and I don’t see it getting better anytime soon. Honestly, it’s not like I hate everything out nowadays. I have a fondness for Da Baby and, surprisingly, Lil Yachty got pretty good out of nowhere. TI’s kid, Domani Harris, is f*cking brilliant and needs more eyes on him as soon as possible. I enjoy most of Doja Cat, she’s come so far from being a cow and, as much as I sh*t on Ice Spice, I’d be lying if I said Boy’s a Liar pt. 2 was a straight bop. None of that makes up for the fact I got a DLC for Drakes last album, because the initial release was trash and the f*cking City Girls are a thing right now. The bar is so f*cking low right now, and we, as a culture, can’t seem to lift it up. It’s wild to me that creatives like Missy Elliot and proven wordsmiths like Method Man or Busta Rhymes, are overlooked in favor of Travis Scott and Lil Durk. Who the f*ck is Lil Durk?? Why the f*ck is NBA Youngboy a thing but I have to listen to some twenty year old tell me how whack Eminem is? Hip Hop, specifically Rap, is an art form. It takes talent, thought, and charisma to create a piece. If all you’re doing is throwing up trigger fingers and making “skeeyee” noises, please stop. You’re killing the culture and making everyone look like assholes.

[cyarskj1899]

Drake Slammed For Megan Thee Stallion And Serena Williams Lyrics On ‘Her Loss’

Drake is under fire for his Megan Thee Stallion lyrics on "Circo Loco" off his collaborative album 'Her Loss" alongside 21 Savage.

NewsOne Featured Video

Source: Amy Sussman / Getty

Drake is at the center of some heated criticism over his new song Circo Loco featuring 21 Savage. The Canadian Hip-Hop star made the internet raise a collective eyebrow on Thursday when the song premiered following the release of his new album Her Loss alongside 21 Savage.

In one verse, Drake seemingly threw a few lyrical jabs at Megan Thee Stallion, calling the Grammy-award-winning femcee a “b*tch” for lying about her shooting incident with Tory Lanez.

“This b**** lie ’bout getting shots, but she still a stallion/She don’t even get the joke, but she still smiling,” the 36-year-old celeb rhymes. Later in the track, Drake seemingly disses Megan’s graduation from TSU:

“Shorty say she graduated, she ain’t learn enough/Play your album, track onе, ‘kay, I heard enough,” he raps.

Megan Thee Stallion calls out Drake

Well, it didn’t take too long for the heated verse to travel back to Megan. After the song surfaced, the Houston native took to Instagram to call out Drake.

“Stop using my shooting for clout bitch ass N****s! Since when tf is it cool to joke abt women getting shot!” she tweeted. “You n****S especially RAP N*****S ARE LAME! Ready to boycott bout shoes and clothes but dog pile on a black woman when she say one of y’all homeboys abused her.”

Then, the “Hot Girl Summer” MC sent a fair warning to internet detractors, telling them to remember all of their favorite “h*e ass” rappers when the truth about the case finally came to light.  Megan will face Torey Lanez in court in the trial scheduled for Nov. 28.

Social media users slam Drake for dissing Megan Thee Stallion

Online, fans slammed Drake for featuring the questionable verse in the new song. Former CNN anchor Marc Lamont Hill lit into the famous rap star, tweeting:

“Started listening to Drake’s album. Was 3 tracks in when I read about the Megan Thee Stallion reference on Twitter. I won’t be finishing the album,” Marc Lamont Hill tweeted. “And please don’t tell me it’s just wordplay… or that it went over my head. I’m very smart. I got it. Doesn’t make it less gross.”

In a follow-up post, the political correspondentwrote: “If Drake released a song with “clever” wordplay that mocked the shooting of a male rapper, or any man for that matter, the same people defending him would be outraged. But of course, he would never do that…”

Another person noted how the verse was disrespectful, given the recent fatal shooting of Migos rapper Takeoff.

“Drake dissing Megan Thee Stallion is abusive,” the tweet read. “People joking about her allegedly being shot by a rapper is also violent & hypocritical; weren’t y’all just denouncing senseless violence in the industry regarding Takeoff’s passing? Mentally, I hope Meg feels loved & protected.”

Megan Thee Stallion wasn’t the only celeb Drake took a few lyrical shots at on the new album. The rapper also penned some questionable bars about tennis champ Serena Williams on another song off the project called “Middle of the Ocean.”

Drake called the 23-time Grand Slam champion’s husband, Alexis Ohanian, a “groupie.”

“Sidebar, Serena, your husband a groupie. He claim we don’t got a problem but. No, boo, it is like you comin’ for sushi” the rapper says around the 3:35 minute mark of the song.

According to TMZ, Drake may have dissed the Reddit co-founder because he has allegedly taken “subtle jabs” at him in the past. If you remember, Williams briefly dated Drizzy back in 2015, way before Ohanian was in the picture. Maybe he’s still yearning for his old thang? Who knows!

Ohanian responded.

Cleared.

SEE ALSO: 

The History Of The Hip-Hop Radio Mix Show

The Legend Of Eric Monte: The Genius Behind The Renaissance Of Black Television

10 photos

Drake Slammed For Megan Thee Stallion And Serena Williams Lyrics On ‘Her Loss’  was originally published on hellobeautiful.com

[chrsohee]

     𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 ! 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 . 

fashionably late ( what with the holiday and passing out from partying too hard [ read: heat exhaustion ] the day after ahahhaa....um...ahem. ) but very excited to be here nonetheless! my name is drew, i go by they / them, and operate on est ( gmt-5 ) this is a new muse so i’m still working out the finer details, and joined with the intent of experimenting with my writing so if things don’t make sense, its okay we roll with it! i prefer tumblr ims but i do have a discord if that’s more of your jam! so without further ado, here i introduce the girl who cried wolf : min sohee ! 

          dossier . biography . plots / connections . pinterest . playlist 

𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬

full name: min sohee pronouns: she/her dob and age: 12 / 07 / 98, 22 years old (international age please) birthplace: seoul, south korea occupation: up and coming journalist class of: 2016 secret: mythomaniac who frequently lies about everything and gets away with it because of pretty privilege (PM_14)

𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙

came from a family whose worth depended on what they’ve achieved: there is father the diplomat, mother the professor, brother and sister who were at the top of their fields. then there was sohee, who had a penchant for little hobbies but mastering none

she was quickly ignored, often shoved to the back for nothing she said had any worth to it

which in turn fueled her drive for any sort of attention she could get it, often relying on telling tall tales in order to get someone to listen to her : oh, i’ve been to paris before. yes, i met a french boy there, he was the sweetest. oh, mom, did you know that i got the top of my grades this quarter? father, did you know that i became the president of the student council? 

it worked more than anything else she’s tried before, so she rolls with it. no one had enough time on their hands to fact check her anyway, so she never stopped. the attention was gratifying, and for the first time eyes were on her. 

her parents were more than pleased to see her finally blossom to the min she was meant to be, but were far too distracted in their own endeavors to dig too deep into her life. 

she lied and told them she was accepted into korea university for law, for they never made it a secret that they wanted her to be a prestigious lawyer ( which is just another chess move in their plan to attain more power / influence, really ) 

instead she lied her way into getting a journalist job she’s not at all qualified for while studying in a regular college.

she thought since she’s moved out and is away from her family, she wouldn’t ever have to face them with the truth

upon finding out about the anonymous person spreading everyone’s business around, she’s determined to find out who it is before they get to her.

𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮

because of the fear that she’ll be found out, she often keeps people at arm’s length in order not to be caught slipping

the type to have many acquaintances that she parties / goes out with but never one to have a best friend or confidant. she’s too scared of being called out for being a farce. 

will often befriend people just for the clout they bring, will come to parties just to take a bunch of selfies, drink a bunch, then leave when bored. 

lying comes as instinctual to her, and she’ll shift her entire “persona” in order for certain people to like her

often times she’s not even sure if she’s happy living like this. some days while she’s drinking or eating something she told someone was her favorite but in reality, its something she couldn’t care less for, she wonders just how much of herself did she lose in order to get here

inherently she has a lack of self esteem that fuels this behavior: knowing that others wouldn’t like her because of how lackluster she truly was, or how loud, or how impolite. she’s too caught up in wanting to fit into everyone’s ideals. 

needs to be constantly on the move / doing something in order not to think too deeply about these things, or question her morality for that matter. 

needs love and a good wake up call lbr

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary - Chapter 29

Warnings: some violence

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @thorsbathroomchicken, @valkyrie-of-the-light

If you can, please leave even the smallest comment so I know someone is reading lol  <3

“I thought you said you knew how to do this?”  Esme whispers, as she nervously bounces up and down on her heels, arms crossed over her chest, hands vigorously rubbing her shoulders in a vain attempt to warm herself up.  Enormous poplars tower over either end of the McMann's front porch, effectively blocking out the sun and bringing a chill to the air.

“I do,” Yaz responds, as he uses a picking tool to manipulate the lock on the front door. He'd already used a high tech blocker to jam the security system; once inside no alarm would sound and no police or security would be alerted to their activity.  “It just takes time.”

“It's been fifteen minutes. If there's anyone watching, they're going to see us.”

“If there is anyone watching, they would have seen us by now.  I can't believe you even talked me into this.”

“I was getting tired of waiting around for Nik to make up her mind about whether she wanted us to check the place out or not.  What's with her dragging her heels? We are running out of time. Those kids are running out of time. We need information, Yaz. It's not going to fall into our laps.” “I thought you were going to get information tomorrow. On your date.”

“It is not a date. It's a ruse. To get what I what.  This clock is ticking. We don't have time to fuck around. Those kids have been missing for two weeks. And you know as well as I do, that they're on borrowed time. So it's time to pull out all the stops.  Go big or go home.”

'Tyler's going to flip his shit, you know that, right?”

“Tyler is a big boy that realizes that we need to get the show on the road. And that sometimes means  making....uncomfortable...decisions.”

“You really think he's going to be okay with his wife going out on a date with some random guy?”

“Again, it's not a date. I'm using this person to get information. Information we all desperately need, I might add.  This is the only way I'm going to get it, Yaz. And it's messed up and it's weird and it's going to get incredibly awkward.  But this has to be done.  He's got names. People who have way more clout and info than he does. We are so close to finding out just who has those kids and where they are.”

“You're crazy if you think Tyler is going to go along with this.  I wouldn't if I was in his shoes. I wouldn't want my wife putting herself out there like that. Pretending she's single, flirting with other men, having dinner and drinks with them.”

“It's for the job. He's not going to feel threatened over some two bit hood that I have to con to get info out of. He's forty years old, Yaz. He's far beyond being the jealous and irrational type.”

He smirks. “You keep telling yourself that.”  There's an audible 'click' as the lock finally gives way, and he shoots her a victorious grin as he turns the handle and pushes the door open, holding it for her and gesturing for to step inside first.  

“Oh so it can be me the attack dogs come after first,” she teases, slapping him playfully across the chest before stepping into the foyer. “Not too shabby,” she gives a nod of approval as she surveys the polished marble tiles, cove ceilings, and rich cherry wood accents. “I didn't picture McMann as the type to have wainscotting and antiques. He seems more like the leather and chrome type. Look...” she picks up a small knick-knack from the hallway table; a small porcelain figurine of a young boy with his dog. “...he even has Hummels! Talk about someone being a total mind fuck! Total study in contradiction, don't you think?”

“How do you even know what Hummels are? You don't seem like the type to collect frilly and pretty shit.”

“My grandmother used to collect them. She had a whole china cabinet full of them.  She used to threaten to beat our asses if even dared step a single toe in the living room where they were kept.   She was the type that had plastic on the couches and fancy hand towels in the bathroom that no one was allowed to touch. Oooo...look...mail,” she picks up a stack of envelopes from the table.  “Let's snoop.”

“What are we exactly looking for?” Yaz asks, as they fall in step alongside of each other, curiously watching as she thumbs through the stack of mail, then selects a handwritten letter bearing a New Zealand postal stamp.

“Anything and everything,” she tears into the envelope, plucking the stiff writing paper out from its confines, carefully opening it.  “Fancy,” she releases a low, impressed whistle. “Someone doesn't realize the art of good penmanship and snail mail died a long time ago.  This has to be from an older relative. Someone still hanging onto the past. Maybe Heather's grandmother?”

“Maybe. What's it say?”

“It's about the business. Maybe the grandmother's shop? The one where she was helping Heather hide out from her father? Where McMann found her? There's no name of the place or an address. The letter is personal. Nothing business like about it.  All about how sad it is that the end of the era has come and how the writer wishes things could have been different. But they accept the decision and won't contact them again. It's signed Nan.”

“Definitely the grandmother.” Yaz concludes.

“We'll take it with us,” Esme says, and then pauses before she slips it into her purse. Then drops all of the envelopes inside. “We'll talk all of them, actually.”

“You don't think he's going to realize his mail is missing?”

“Who cares. Let him think he's gone crazy and tear the place apart looking for it.  Let's start upstairs and work our way down.”

“You seem to enjoying this a little too much,” Yaz comments, as he follows her up the spiral staircase, loose floorboards sagging and creaking under their feet. “Were you a cat burglar at some point in your old life?”

“No,” she laughs. “I just get a perverse satisfaction out of snooping through peoples' shit and finding out the skeletons in their closet. Especially people like this. The ones who have the fancy house and the fancy cars and the designer clothes. The ones that look so perfect on the outside yet have the most twisted shit going on behind closed doors.”

“So about this date...”

She sighs.

“Sorry...about this 'non date'.  You honestly think Tyler is going to be okay with it? That you're going to let some IRA dude wine and dine you?”

“First all, I think you need to stop worrying about what goes on between Tyler and I.  Our marriage is good, Yaz. It's beyond good. It's amazing. We love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together and totally intend on doing just that. We have four amazing kids.  If we've managed to get through the past five and a half years, this bullshit with Michael McMann isn't going to break us.”

“But you're pretending like your single. You're flirting with this bartender. You agreed to go out with him.”

“It's for the job,,” she reminds him. “There's nothing scandalous going on. It is strictly business. I'm not running off to cheat on my husband. This isn't committing adultery. This is lying and conning someone into giving us what we want. What we need. And Tyler is going to understand that. Any rational human being would.”

“You realize that he isn't exactly understanding and rational when it comes to you, right? You realize it drives him batshit insane if another guy so as much looks as you when you're with him? He doesn't even like me checking you out.”

“You've been checking me out?”

“It's kind of hard not to. At the risk of sounding like a pervert, you're kind of hard not to notice. I so would have scooped you up if you weren't into tall, buff, Australian dudes.  I'm just saying that this is a horrible idea. You hooking up with this bartender. It can be done another way. Getting information. Why risk pissing Tyler off and causing issues between you guys?”

“He isn't going to be pissed off. He's a professional.”

“He's also your husband.  Maybe he'd be okay with it if it was just some girl off the street Nik brought in. But you guys have history. You're his wife. And no husband is going to like the idea of his wife being with another man. Whether it's for business or not.  Doesn't he at least get a say in this?”

“What he is going to say?”

“That you're insane and there's no way he's letting you do it.”

“I admit, when I tell him, he may get a little upset...”

Yaz stares at her pointedly.

“Okay so he may get very upset. But when he calms down, he'll realize that it's for the best. That things like this have to be done from time to time. I'm going to have a dinner and a couple drinks and I'm going to get the info we need. I'm not running off with some strange man to cheat on my husband. Give me some credit, would you? Sheesh. You don't really think that about me do you? That I'd do that to Tyler?”

“I don't think you would. I know you're crazy about the guy. But this is some serious shit you're wadding into. This guy is IRA. Not just a bartender. A bartender that's in a terrorist organization. And you're walking right into his bullshit. This is crazy. You know it is. And I agree that we need information, but...”

“You check the master bedroom,” she suggests. “I'll hit up the kids' rooms”

He captures her by the wrist before she can walk away. “Esme, I'm just worried about you, okay? This is some scary shit we're all getting into it. You're my friend. Tyler's my friend. I don't want to see this screwing things up for you guys. You two have a great thing.  He has a normal life. A wife and kids.  A house. All the things he'd never thought he'd have, you gave him.  And I don't want to see all that fucked up because of this Michael McMann bullshit. Just promise me you'll hear him out. When you tell him about tomorrow night. Don't just ignore what he has to say. Because I don't think you realize just how much he loves you. How much it would kill him to lose you. To lose what he has.”

“I'm not going anywhere, Yaz.  I plan to stick around. For a very long time.  Or least until you end up killing me for making jokes at your expense.”

He grins at that.

“Tyler knows I love him. He knows that I would do anything for him.  I'm not going to let anyone screw my life up.  I've worked too hard at this and put too much work into my marriage...into my family...to let the job mess that up. I promise.”

“Good,” he says, and then playfully tousles her hair. “Now lets get to work.”

****

McMann is already waiting for the them at the scheduled, a long abandoned school on the outskirts of town. A one story sprawling building; faded and chipped red bricks, broken and missing windows, weeds and grass to the knees, industrial sized dumpsters filled the brim.  The area itself is a disaster; most of the houses empty and boarded up, junk of various shapes and sizes filling the yards of the tenants who still remain.  A foul stench hangs in the air; rotting trash, pollution from the factories only blocks away, the smell of mould and mildew that comes with years of neglect and decay.

“That's him?” Mark mutters as they approach,  McMann watching them with narrow, darkened eyes, taking one last, long drag of his cigarette before tossing it aside.

Tyler nods. “Just remember what I told you. Just go with it.”

“Who the hell is this? McMann barks. “You're supposed to be alone. What the hell kind of shit are you trying to pull, Rake?”

“I was just going to ask you the same thing,” he retorts, and before McMann  can get out another word, Tyler is grabbing a hold of the front of his t-shirt and slamming his forearm into his throat; using his height and weight advantage to shove the startled man into the side of one of the dumpsters. The back of his head slamming off the metal with an echoing thud.

“What the fuck?!” McMann roars. “What the fuck do you think you're doing? Are you fucking crazy? What is wrong with you? We had a deal!”

“Everything you told me was a goddamn lie,” Tyler snarls. “Right from the very beginning. Right from the fucking start you've been bullshitting me. Playing me. You didn't think I'd find out? You didn't think I had ways of looking into you and figuring out what you're up to?”

“I don't know what you're talking about. I don't...”

He increases the pressure of his forearm; leaning into the other man. Until McMann is coughing and sputtering and his face turning a vivid shade of red.  “Don't lie to me,” Tyler hisses.  “If there was ever the time to tell the truth, this would be it.”

“You're crazy,” McMann manages through the gagging; spit rolling down the sides of his mouth, sweat beading across his forehead. His eyes wide with a mixture of fury and terror. “You're fucking crazy. I was warned about you. How unhinged you are.”

“I haven't even got to the point of being unhinged. I know about your little plan. All the bullshit you spewed to get me here. Away from my family. You wanted me alone. You thought it would make me vulnerable. You thought you'd be able to get the drop on me.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about you. You!” he barks the last word at Mark, who stands idly by with his hands shoved in his pockets, enjoying the exchange. “Do something would ya? Get him off of me!”

“No,” Mark says, and casually leans against one of the brick walls. “I don't think I will.”

“Your little friend showed up at my hotel,” Tyler continues. “What is she? Your little girlfriend? Your side piece?”

“What girl? Who...”

“She gave me the pictures. The pictures of your wife and your kids. The proof of life. And she gave me the pictures of my family. Of my wife, my kids. Didn't I warn you not to fuck with my family? Didn't I tell you it was the worst possible thing that you could do? Go after my wife and my kids? That I would kill you if you even thought about it?”

“I swear...” McMann claws at Tyler's forearm, struggles in vain to get away from the strong, solid body keeping him in place.  “...I don't know what you're talking about...”

“Tell me the truth,” Tyler orders.  “All of it. Or I will snap your neck right here and now and I'll leave you here to rot.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about!” he insists, his skin turning a hideous shade of purple, blood vessels popping in his eyes. And with his free hand he reaches up to grab a hold of Tyler's hair; yanking and twisting it.

“You stupid fucker!”  Tyler roars; the act dissipating, the rage suddenly all too real.

That simple and desperate act of violence and retaliation against him sends him over the edge.  Five and a half years of pent up anger and frustration.  The confusion he'd felt during those months in the hospital and all through those long and tedious days of rehab and wondering if he'd ever been even half the man he once was.  The guilt that he carried around over what he had put Esme through; her fight to keep him alive on the bridge,  the nights she'd spent sleeping beside his hospital bed, the animosity she'd felt towards him for having pushing her into a life she didn't  want. The lingering fear that he'll lose her. That she'll disappear from his life just as quick as she entered it. Leaving him broken and alone and raising four kids by himself. He wouldn't survive. He knows it.  He'd turn to the booze and the meds again and his life would fall apart and then he'd no longer even have his children.

His forearm slips from McMann's throat and his hand wraps around his throat. Knuckles cracking and turning white from the pure, brute force that he uses.  Nostrils flaring. Chest heaving from a mixture of rage and exertion. Eyes dark and crazed.  The eyes of a predator that has managed to catch his prey and will show no mercy.

“All right...” Mark is stepping alongside of him now.  “....take it easy....take it down a notch...this isn't what we came for...”

“You fucking lied to me,” Tyler's voice is low, menacing. Fingers pressing further into McMann's throat.  “I told you to leave my family out of it. I told you to stay away from my wife and my kids. And now they're caught up in this bullshit. Your bullshit.  And if anything happens to my wife because of you...”

“Hey...hey...” Mark lays a hand on Tyler's arm. “...look at me, kid....look at me...”

Tyler inhales sharply, breath slowly leaving his lungs and his lips, turning those furious blue eyes on Mark's concerned hazel ones.

“Nothing is going to happen to her, okay? She's going to be fine. She's safe. With you. Now just take it down a notch. This isn't what we came here for. Step back, take a breath, and get your shit together. Understand me?”

Tyler just stares at him. Just heaving. Fingers finally beginning to relax around McMann's throat.

“You kill him and then what?” Mark asks. “You kill him, you don't get what you want. You need whatever information he has. He dies, those kids die. And you know that.  That's not what you want, Tyler. You don't want the blood of those kids on your hands. So take a step back and calm down, you hear me?

He finally relents.  Hand relaxing and falling off of McMann's throat, stepping back as the man's body collapses to the ground in front of him.  

“Just take it easy...” Mark encourages, and rubs his shoulders in the same way a manager would do a boxer in between rounds.  “....just take a few deep breaths and take it easy...”

Tyler rakes his hands through his hair;  then bends at the waist, hands resting on his thighs. Eyes closed as he struggles to regain his composure. Sucking in long, shaky breaths. Releasing them slowly. Until he feels all of his muscles begin to relax; the rage and the tension disappearing first from his shoulders, then spreading down his arms and his arms.  

“You stupid sonofabitch,” McMann gasps for air as he struggles into a sit, back against the dumpster.  “Do you know who you're messing with? Do you know the people I know? The people I'm involved with? What they could do to you? To your family?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” Mark snarls. “I've calmed him down once. I won't be able to again.  Keep his family out of this. If you know what's good for you. You good?” he pats Tyler on the back.  “You think you can hold it together long enough to get some information out of this prick?”

He nods, heaving a sigh as he stands up. “I'm good.”

“What kind of information?” McMann asks, eyes narrowed as Tyler approaches him. “I've already told you everything I know.”

“You lied to me, mate.  Right off the hop. You told me that your wife was a shop keeper in New Zealand. That she was feeding you information while you were there for a job. I know that's all shit. I know who she is. I know who her family is. Who her father was.  You were working for him. He hired you to extract her.  She was a kid.  She was a fucking kid and you took advantage of her. She was weak and vulnerable and you were responsible for her and you preyed on her, you sick fuck.”

“We fell in love,” he tries to reason. “I never forced her into anything. It was mutual.”

“She was a teenager! She was seventeen and you took advantage of her. What the hell is wrong with you? You were thirty three. You were supposed to protect her. Bring her home to her father.  She was vulnerable and she trusted you and you took advantage of that. For that alone I should break your fucking neck. We both have daughters. Would you want that for your daughter? I sure as hell don't. And if someone like you ever even so as much looks at my daughter the wrong way. I'll do shit to them  that they couldn't even begin to imagine in their worst dreams.”

“She was almost an adult,” McMann continues. “She wasn't a child. She was...”

“I know about everything,” Tyler says. “I know that you started taking jobs for friends of her old man. That you'd take the money and not get the work done. I also know that you killed him.”  He's taking a shot in the dark with the last part; there's no proof that McMann is the one that did the hit himself. Or had one put on his father in law.

“He knew too much.  About me being part of the IRA. I told him I left and he found out I didn't and he was going to try and convince Heather to take the kids and leave.”

“You're still part of them?” Mark inquires. “The IRA?”

“No. I did leave. Two years ago. I have nothing to do with them now.”

“Why'd you lie about who has your wife and your kids?” Tyler asks. “We know it's not the IRA.  They deny having anything to do with it. They won't claim responsibility.  Why'd you tell me it was them? Do you realize what could have happened? If I'd just come in here believing what you said and caused all kinds of shit with them? How bad things would have gotten? You wanted me to take the fall for you, didn't you. You wanted me to come here and blow shit up and take a bullet for you. To cover up who's actually behind all of this. You were willing to have me killed to cover your shit up.”

McMann nods.

“Who has them?” Mark asks. “Who has your wife and your kids?”

“Her family,” he replies. “The Buckmans.”

“Whose in charge?” Tyler inquires.  “Of the family? Is it your wife?”

“I can't...I can't tell you that.  You have to understand.  If I tell you everything...”

“Is your wife in charge?” Tyler presses, and takes a step closer. “Don't fuck me around here, mate. You've lied to me enough. So unless you want me snapping your neck for good this time...”

“I'm not sure.  I'm not sure she's involved. At first I thought she was innocent in all of this. That she was just as innocent as the kids. And then things started not adding up. The more and more I thought about it, things didn't make sense.”

“Why? Why would she do it? Why would she do that to her own kids?”

“Revenge?” McMann suggests with a shrug. “For what I did to her father.”

“And because you've been sticking your dick where it doesn't belong?” Mark smirks. “Yeah, we know about that too. You're just one big shit show, aren't you.”

“Where are they?” Tyler asks. “Where are your wife and kids?”

“That I don't know.  I honestly do not know. I've got both of them after me . The IRA. The Buckmans.”

“Well you're well and truly fucked aren't you, mate.  And I'd give a shit if you didn't go after my family. Was it you? That sent that girl? Erin? Was it you that had someone take pictures of my wife and my kids?”

“No. I had nothing to do with that. I'd have no reason to do that. I needed you here. To help.”

“No. You needed me here to start a whole bunch of shit. And die in the process.  Then shit really hit the fan with your wife and your kids and you realized you did need me alive. That you needed me to do your dirty work. Because you're a coward. A fucking coward that preys on young girls. You were never going to try and get your wife and your kids back, were you. You were going to leave that all to me.”

“I'm not like you,” McMann says.  “I can't do the things you do.  I can't turn it off.  The emotions.”

“And you think I can? You think I like doing this? You think I like having to kill people? I do it because I have to. Because  I have no other choice. Because it's me or them.  Because I have a family that needs me  and going home in a body bag isn't an option.”

“Where are they?” Mark asks. “The kids.”

“I told you. I don't know. I'm not in on this. I have nothing to do with this. I would never do something like that. To my own kids.  I do need your help,” he turns pleading eyes up at Tyler.  “I do need you to find them.  To get them out.  You're the only one that can do it.”

“And if I was to leave right now?” Tyler asks “If I was to just say 'fuck it' and leave? What then?”

“You wouldn't be able to live with yourself,” McMann replies. “You have kids of your own. And every time you would look at them, you'd think about the kids you left behind. To die.”

Tyler gives a derisive snort. “Let's go,” he says to Mark, and then turns on his heel to head for the car.  “We're done here.”

“Don't you fucking walk away!” McMann roars, as he struggles to his feet. “Don't you bail on me, Rake! Don't you bail on my kids!”

“I'll find your kids,”  Tyler assures him.  “Just as long as you stay the fuck out of my way.”

*****

The McMann house is eerily quiet; nothing but the soft hum of the central air conditioning  filling the air. Outside is just as still; no breeze tousling the tree tops, no sounds of children playing in nearby yards or cars on the street. The sky gray and dreary; an imminent threat of rain.

Esme scours the little girl's room; the boy's had turned up nothing out of the ordinary and it had left her frustrated and feeling helpless. One moment it felt as if they were getting closer to finding out their whereabouts, the next it seemed as if they were taking a hundred steps backwards.

The room is the quintessential girls room. A white wood canopy bed with a billowing sheer panels; white with delicately embroidered pink and purple flowers around the edges. An obviously handmade quilt boasting panels displaying rainbows, unicorns and other mythical creatures. The hardwood floor covered in places by impossibly soft bubble gum pink shag throw rugs, a wall to wall bookcase filled with the little one's favourites and a wide selection of stuffed animals. A desk in one corner; covered with drawers and loose markers and crayons. A towering dollhouse in the other; filled with every possible kind of decor and furniture and several different Barbies.

She searches the closet; flipping through hangers of clothing.  Mostly dresses;  all flowing and made from expensive fabrics and boasting rich, vibrant colours.  A handful of more casual items; jeans, a few t-shirts,  a couple of zip up sweaters.  And she sticks her arm in as far as it will go; blindly feeling along the walls for any shelving or even tucked away spaces and corners that could be used as hiding spots.

Nothing.

Sighing, she closes the closet door and journeys to the dresser.  Fingertips tracing along the various toys and small figurines that sit on top of it.  Unicorns the current favourite; ceramic ones that have been hand painted, others made from glass, a couple constructed of heavy crystal, two with multi-coloured flowing manes and tails. There's a hair brush and a handheld mirror; antique by the looks of it, likely passed on through generations.  A small jewellery box that when opened, held a spinning ballerina and played a soft lullaby.

And suddenly the emotions hit.  Raw and powerful.  Thoughts of her own little girl. Of Millie and her brilliant blue eyes and her light brown hair done up in braids.  Of that bedroom back in Colorado that boasts all the little touches that make Millie the spirited and beautiful five year old that she is;  the paintings she'd done on her own and insisted be framed and hung,  the fleece Winnie the Pooh blanket that she'd been given as a baby by a neighbour in the old apartment; it was tattered and faded yet she still insisted that it be kept at the foot of her bed.  Family pictures on her dresser; even ones of her brothers who she was adamant she hated, yet always told them she loved them before bed.  And that stuffed koala; the one that her daddy had given her when she was only an hour old and had been tagging along with them everywhere they went.  He was missing one eye now; his fur wasn't as soft and it had lost most of its colour. But he is treasured and well loved.

The tears come now. Hot. Bitter. The realization of just how desperately she misses her family.  Just how far away they actually are. How messed up things are and how there's a very real chance that she may never see them again. Or, at the very least, be returning as a single parent.

She flees the room; nearly knocking Yaz clear off his feet as he exits the master across the hall.  And she's barely aware of him calling her name and asking what's wrong; tears blurring her vision and burning her cheeks, chest heaving with sobs as she rushes down the stairs.  She feels as if she can't breathe. She's nauseous. Dizzy. Desperate for escape.

She's sitting on the front steps when the door opens behind her. Clearing the tears off her cheeks with one hand, the other rubbing at her bare arms. She's tired. Emotionally and physically. The stress and the worry and the overwhelming loneliness just too much to bear.  And Yaz doesn't say a word. Just silently slips out of his jacket and drapes it over her shoulders before taking a seat on the top step beside her.

“Anything?” she asks after several minutes, thankful that he hadn't asked questions or pressured her to tell her what was wrong.  Just sitting there in silence; a comforting, friendly presence.

“There's no women's clothes,” he replies. “In the closet. Or any of the dressers.  No things belonging to a woman in any of the bathrooms.”

“This just gets weirder and weirder,” Esme sighs. “McMann said that his kids and his wife were both taken. On the same day. But if there's no sign she was even here...”

“Maybe she came back and got her things.”

“Which would mean she's not being held.  That she's free to come and go as she pleases. And no captor or captors are going to allow that.”

“Which points towards the idea that she's involved.”

Esme nods.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “You've been a little weird the last couple of days.”

“You call me weird three hundred and sixty five days a year. What makes the last couple any different?”

“You're even weirder than usual,”  he teases, and playfully leans into her. “I'm serious. You've been acting all out of sorts. Are you okay?”

“No,” she admits with a shake of her head. “I'm not.”

“You wanna talk about it or...”

“I miss home. I miss the kids.  I miss my life. The one I had before all of this. Before Michael McMann showed up.”

“You'll get that back,” Yaz assures her. “We're getting closer.”

“How can you say that? We have nothing. If seems like with every two steps we take forward, we take ten backwards.”

“I can just feel it,” he says. “I can just feel that we're close. To something. We should get going. We should really be back at the hotel before Tyler gets there. He's going to wonder where the hell we went if we're not there. And I don't know if we should be telling him about this.”

Esme rests the side of her head against his shoulder. “Our little secret?”

“Our little secret,” he confirms.

“Think they'd mind if I used their bathroom? Those two extra large teas on the way here practically have my eyeballs swimming.”

He laughs at that. “You want me to wait here or go start the car or....”

“Just wait here. In case someone does see us here and decides to pop in for a visit.”

She steps back into the house, hurrying for the small three piece bathroom that she'd seen when they'd first started their search of the house.  While in there, she finds a bottle of anti nausea meds in the medicine and takes three; swallowing them down with a palm full of water and then hurrying out to meet Yaz.

She is three feet from the door when she sees it. Out of the corner of her eye.  The corner of an ornate cherry wood dining table behind a set of French doors.   And when she slips into the room for a closer look, she frowns at the odd sight of only five chairs instead of the usual six.

The chair, she thinks.

The one that Heather Buckman was bound to.  The one with the unusual carvings on the legs and the back and the very distinct cushion; burgundy with silver and gold flecks.

The one that matches the five still remaining in the room.

Her hands are shaking as she pulls her SAT from the pocket of her jeans. A sudden rush of adrenaline and the resurgence of hope causing the tremors.  And she snaps a picture of one of the chairs before composing a text to Tyler and sending it to his phone.

WE FOUND SOMETHING.

[draconicslime]

do not reblog ❤️

you know. i block anyone who says anything slightly ableist anymore, unless i feel up to correcting them. do you want to know why?

because when i do, there’s only a few possible reactions 80% of the time. and they’re not pleasant! i get:

ignored;

dismissed;

attacked;

or have someone in the comments say ableist things to me and then send my porn over messages!

anyone want to know some people to stay away from, even if this all happened maybe half a year ago or more?

how about that antifa-antifa person? oh yeah everyone i knew ignored me after i told them to stop interacting with that ableist!

this person told me that when i politely asked them to not use empathy in a bad way, i was trying to get “clout” and sound smart and said i called them ableist (i didn’t) which is triggering to them (lmao?) and told me to “go to hell kid!!! fuck you fucking go to hell!!!” for defending myself. They even vagueposted about it and said they would break anyone’s knee caps if they did what i did :3

or lee-anti?

who said it was acceptable to imply not showering = gross, dirty, and horrible because it was aimed at cis people? oh and, it was fine if they said it because they struggled too, fuck anyone else who has fucking trauma from being bullied for it. they kept claiming everyone who got upset at them wanted to “just start shit.”

plus they interacted with the person who told me i had no excuse not to shower, assumed me being neurodivergent and only showering once every week or two meant i couldn’t have physical disabilties that prevented me as well, and thought it was acceptable to bully people for not showering because they are “nasty disease carriers who ruin herd immunity?”

(and lee-anti conveniently only unblocked me later to reblog some posts i made about other important stuff and pretended it never happened?)

those two all happened on my old account that everyone hated me on and only ever listened to me when i said something they liked. which i deleted after several big exclusionists tricked me, another stupid autist, with their “ironic humor” posts and called me r*tarded.

that was after another group of ableists did the same thing! right-wing neo-nazis, in fact. please explain how much better your “ironic” bigotry is compared to real bigotry?

then on this account alone i got porn person who kept going on about me, a minor, not washing my ass because i said ableism wasn’t okay just because it’s aimed at cishets;

i got supposedly anti-ableism person who blocked my friend (for trying to point out ableism with associating “not going outside” = misinformed and gross) and then claimed i was my friend block evading when i got upset and said something to them;

and i got purgatorian-princess ! who had been ableist several times but the last straw for her was when I commented “trigger jokes? really?” on a post that used trigger jokes to call out racism and she told me ableism was not important right now (or something similar)

these peeps are just the clearest ones on my mind!

this was all months ago and i deleted most screenshots during a panic attack so i only have antifa receipts! go ahead and tell me i’m lying or exaggerating or talking about stuff that “isn’t important” i don’t care who believes anymore, no one ever wanted to :)

that’s all folks! followers feel free to ignore this or hate me for it! any panic attacks are worth getting this off my chest ❤️

[kaspbrak-tozier-reddie]

Once in a Lifetime - CB

(Part 1)

Requests are open

I did start writing this a few days ago then i watched the new TFIL video and decided to finish it 😁 this will be a 2 part imagine.

Warnings: mentions of Anxiety

———————————————————————

She hated flying, there was something about flying over open water that made her uncomfortable. Trying to keep her anxiety at bay, she edited the video that she was going to upload in a few days. She had cut too far off a segment, she hit the keyboard, “Dammit,” she muttered to herself. The man sitting next to her looked at her strangely. She felt his eyes digging into her so she looked up at him. He wore a grey business suit and carried a tatty black briefcase. Either a businessman or a lawyer, she thought. “Sorry.” She said to the man.

She looked up at him and met his judging eyes. Her purple highlighted brown hair made her stick out like a sore thumb. She hated being judged but loved her hair, it made her feel confident.

She silently wished she never agreed to this TFIL trip but she had promised her brother, Elton. Y/N had to meet Elton in LA before heading out to wherever they were going.

Turbulence hit the plane and Y/N gripped the arm rests like her life depended on it. Anxiety rising further and further until she was certain that they’d plummet to their deaths in the sea below.

***

“ELTON!” Y/N yelled the classic iconic line from Corey while running up to her her older brother and jumped into his arms.

“Hey sister.” Elton said while hugging her. “Can I introduce you to everyone?” She let go of Elton and watched as he pointed to each of the members. A boy with blue hair (mainly the front), a boy with blonde hair, a boy with brown hair and a girl with brown hair.

“So you got all the names right?”

“Sorry bro, I wasn’t paying attention.” Y/N said honestly.

“Right because you were staring at Colby.” Elton points back at the blue haird man standing in front of her. “Andrea’s the only girl. So that should be pretty easy. Sam’s the blonde and Corey’s the brunette.”

Overhead, their plane was called, Y/N followed behind the group of 5 silently. She was usually more up to it than this, maybe once she got a bit more sleep it would be a little easier.

***

Elton had her sit between Sam and Colby hoping that she’d talk about her love for adrenaline and supernatural. But alas she didn’t speak to the two during the full 2 hour flight.

“Is she okay?” Colby asked the older man once they got off the plane.

“She hates flying, once she calms down a little she’ll be alright. She’s suffered from anxiety from a young age, she’ll take control of it.” Elton replied. “Talk to her, if she sees that one or all of you are making an effort, it’ll distract her.”

Colby stopped dead in his tracks and waiting for the short girl with purple highlights to catch up. “Thought you’d might like some company.” Colby said to her.

“You thought right. Sorry if I haven’t spoken much, just a bit of anxiety. Normally i have a hold on it but we struck turbulence just 10 minutes before we landed and i lost my hold.” She explained to the young man beside her. “I love your videos by the way, i love supernatural shit as well.”

Colby was taken aback a little. He thought he’d have to produce a full on monologue but she opened up right then and there. He loved it.

As they waited for the motorhome to arrive the pair continued to talk. The more she distracted herself the better she felt and soon she had made a few insults towards Elton making the rest of them laugh. Elton pretended to be upset but he was thrilled that she was joking and laughing again.

“I watched Elton’s video where he trashed you car.” Y/N told Colby.

“Please tell me you disliked the video!” Colby whined.

“Eh, i thought it was pretty funny. Your reaction? Even better! So i liked it.” Y/N retorted. She heard how crappy his old Corolla was from Elton many times. Even watching his old roommates complain about the car in their own videos, it made Elton’s “prank” 10 times funnier.

The motorhome arrived and Y/N drags her luggage toward the vehicle. Colby stopped her, letting everybody else get on. “But it held emotional value!”

“I know i may have shed a tear, happy?!” Colby laughed and hugged his new friend and loaded her luggage into the motorhome.

She stepped on, closing the door behind her. “Ok everyone pick your beds.” Elton said. “I’m in the front as the driver and I will be swapping throughout the trip.”

Sam and Colby rushed from the back bed leaving the rest of us to claim beds, Corey top, Y/N middle and Andrea on the bottom.

***

As the trip came to a close Elton decided to hire a boat for the day and do water sports. Y/N was weary about the whole thing but this was once in a lifetime. Between her college life and her own YouTube thing, she couldn’t come out often. When Elton made a trip exclusively for her, she jumped at the opportunity.

She placed herself comfortably between Colby and Andrea. “Do you like bluey there?” Andrea asked pointing subtly to the blue haired man beside her.

“I don’t know, maybe?” Y/N replied.

“You sure? Because ever since you two started talking you become giddy. I’ve been a huge fan of you since you started youtube so i knew that you don’t act like that.” Y/N whipped her head back to Colby then whipped back to face Andrea.

“Nope don’t feel a thing but friendship.” Just as she said that Colby subconsciously placed a hand on her waist. Deep in a conversation with Corey, Elton and Sam. (Elton filming the entire thing). Y/N felt her cheeks become hot. “Okay, maybe i lied.”

“Thank you!”

“What were you lying about?” Colby asked, who clearly had been eavesdropping.

“Nothing!” Y/N yelled a little startled. “I’m just going to go up front with Sam real quick.” She walked over to Sam and pulled him towards the front of the boat.

“Woah, everything okay?” Sam asked, concern hitting his words.

“I like Colby and I don’t know exactly what to do. You’re his best friend so I just kinda figured ...”

“Wow! Um.”

“Sorry this is stupid. Just forget i said anything.” As she turned to leave, the blonde pulled her back.

“Hold up! I was just going to say to go for it. Colby likes you, if he thought of you as a friend he wouldn’t be putting an arm around your waist. You’ve surely seen the pictures of him with Andrea right? His arm’s around her shoulder most of the time.” She looked in her side vision and spotted Colby looking at her, his eyes trailing up and down.

“Oh.” She waved at him causing him to blush and look right away as if he wasn’t checking her out.

“Haha. Classic. He’s afraid. Most girls want him for clout or money. You view him the way he wants to be viewed, as an actual human.”

“Thanks Sam. Can you bring him here?” Sam nodded and moved to his best friend. The two tag teamed and Colby comes forward.

“You called.” Colby said faking a posh accent.

“I uh, saw you checking me out so don’t deny it Brock!” Colby laughed. “I like you a lot. I just, uh, thought you should know.”

“I like you too. Maybe when you’re on holidays next I can take you out?”

“I’d like that.”

The two walked back towards the group just as Elton started getting prepared to wakeboard. Once again Colby’s arm rested lightly on Y/N’s waist as she was talking to Andrea and filming Elton.

The memory of a few seconds ago started playing in her mind

Maybe when you’re on holidays next I can take you out?

Colby had said. Does this mean he’s willing to wait about 3 months for Christmas break?! She thought. No, can’t be, can it?!

***

The trip came to an end and the 5 arrived back in LA. Elton had to rush off as did the rest, except Colby. Colby opted to stay with the girl for 5 hours until her connecting flight. “You doyhave to stay.” She said.

“Seriously? What kind if boyfriend would i be if i let my girlfriend wait alone for 5 hours?”

“A bad one!”

“Exactly!”

“Hang on, boyfriend?!” Since the boat ride, Colby never brought it up ever again. Except the subtle touches, leg, hand, waist. Nothing was ever said.

“Oh i just thought - ”

“No no. I don’t mind. It’s just we haven’t spoken about dating since the boat.”

“Well, it’s just, i want to do it properly. Just you and me.”

“Who knew you were a romantic!?” The two laughed and sat in a comfortable silence.

****

A few hours later, Y/N’a flight was called, she hugged Colby good bye and headed down into the plane.

Just before she couldn’t text him, she sent a text

To Colby🖤 - no one’s next to me, whole row to myself baby!

From Colby🖤 - get some rest and I will see you soon

[nemossubmarine]

Warhammer 40k: Wrath & Glory RP #4

We pick up following Coco and Ranan who make their way through the city towards the Cathedral. Ranan picks up a sniper’s nest for them to assist in the curbing of the ork invasion. He is surprised to see the state of the Cathedral, and Coco merely says that shit went down. They take sides and get to sniping.

Ranan says he’s got few things to tell to Coco, and after that she can ask as many questions as she needs to. First thing, is that Ranan didn’t want this to happen, he loved James like his own, and he and Helios were friends, he bore no ill-will towards anyone in the group. Second thing is that there are questions he can’t and won’t answer, as he is trying to look out for his elderly mothers and other family members still on Coco’s family’s ship. Third is that someone on board provided Ranan with a vox caster he was ordered to exchange with the comms’ officer’s vox caster, and that someone most likely is on Coco’s team.

Coco is in disbelief about this, she has been living with the thought that she had made a mistake which led to her brother’s and his team’s death, but Ranan dryly remarks mistakes usually don’t end up with people melted with melta weapons. But he is sorry that he put Coco in this situation. Coco asks who was responsible, but Ranan says he wasn’t there when the party was attacked, he was delivering the vox caster to a location that he was told.

But basically Ranan is being blackmailed by someone named the Devil, and either the person on Coco’s team is blackmailed as well, or they wanted James to die. Coco can’t quite believe that someone would want Jim dead, as he was by all accounts a total sweetheart. But Ranan points out there was hardly anyone else important in the group worth going to trouble to kill, and that includes the Marines Errant who were merely soldiers.

Ranan says that Coco deserves to attempt to find out what happened, if she wishes to, and Coco affirms that she does. Ranan says he and Six are after Ranan’s blackmailer, the Devil, so Coco can join the team. Coco asks if Six is Hackney, and Ranan says she is, and then asks Coco to not hold her trapping them down in the sewers against her, as she was merely protecting Ranan, not knowing who Coco is. Coco promises she won’t, if Hackney doesn’t do it again.

Meanwhile, Izarak has been helping people around the city, keeping himself quite busy. [Insert #1] Izarak wakes with a jolt and realizes he’s been walking in his sleep. A Dark Angel has caught him, near the destroyed cathedral. Izarak thanks the Dark Angel for waking him and makes his way back to the bunker.

Meanwhile, Julo lets Larry and Alice know that they’ll mission is to assist another ship with a pickup. The three of them plus two gangers named Gunhildr and Cusmaan will be taking a smaller ship. Larry is doing the piloting, and he asks Julo to sit in the co-pilot’s seat, while the others are at the back (Gunhildr and Cusmaan man the guns, and Alice will be used to carry explosives if needed). Larry does some cool stunt tricks while flying, and Julo comments that he wasn’t lying when he said he was good. Larry tells him that he was second top of his class, and Julo says his teachers must be proud where he ended up in, and Larry clarifies it was not an actual school.

There’s few orc encounters, but they’re no trouble. In fact the whole thing is no trouble, until the ship is hailed. Julo instructs Larry to pick up, and he does, after which he hears a mechanical voice requesting assistance. There’s apparently a Mechanicus squad in engagement with some orcs on the ground and they could really use some assistance, and the gangers’ ship is the closest. Larry brings this up to Julo, who orders Alice to start getting bombs. It quickly becomes apparent he is planning to bomb both the orcs and the Mechanicus.

Both Alice and Larry attempt to persuade Julo out of it, but Julo seems rather overly paranoid, saying that this must be a trap. When the two try to bring up the fact that this could make the Mechanicus be indebted to the gang, Julo says they’re in so deep shit if they get caught that they’ll be instantly made servitors. Finally they manage to calm him down enough, and merely offer the assistance to the Mechanicus, no bombing required. (much tot he disappointed of Cusmaan and Gunhildr)

They get to the pickup place, where the pickup turns out to be a teenage girl, holding a backpack against her chest. She seems a bit apprehensive, but starts moving towards the ship. A beat-up man rushes after her, asking Lady Ada to wait. Julo orders Alice to stop the man, so Alice shoots at him, though she misses. Julo says that with her fists. The man reaches to grab hold onto the girl, and says she “can’t do this”. Alice grabs the man, tells him never to touch a lady and punches him so hard he nearly loses consciousness. Ada gets into the other ship and so the gangers’ mission is complete.

A day or so passes, and the warring moves away from Asphodel because of the arrival of the Imperial Knights from a nearby planet as well as two separate Mechanicus armies.

Hackney finally joins Coco and Ranan in their little snipers’ nest. She is quite surprised to see Coco, but Ranan says she is alright, and should be let in to the situation, to a certain extent at least. Hackney asks Coco what she knows of the Devil, and Coco must admit not much. Hackney informs that the Devil was an old friend of hers and Ranan, a woman now working in the shadows of the Dimmamar eccelsiarchy. Now that the cathedral is destroyed they don’t know where she might have gone. Hackney asks if Coco could contact the priest she was with at the sewers, and Coco thinks she could do it. Hackney tells to ask him of Origenes Antonius, a priest with rumored contacts to the Devil. It’s a place to start, at least. Coco sets out to find Izarak.

Izarak in his travels through the city runs across some people wearing the same crests as he spied in the house he kinda broke into. He stops to ask if they need help, and the speaker asks if he could show them to a Mechanicus camp so they could step up communication. Izarak does so, and while he does, he asks where the people are coming from. One of them replies that they’re from the nearby Knight world of Dutonis, part of the Navaros family’s retinue. Izarak mentions seeing signs of violence in one house with the same crests, which worries the man he is talking to. The man excuses himself, saying he needs to contact Lady Rebecca or Lord Roberto.

He soon comes back with a screen where Izarak can see a woman’s face, which turns out to be an old friend of his, Lady Rebecca. Rebecca is pleased to see Izarak again, after so many years, though the circumstances could be better, as it seems that Izarak has ran into a scene of a crime, Rebecca’s god-daughter and the out-of-wedlock child of her husband Ada seems to have been kidnapped. A ransom letter has been sent, but there’s still time before drop-off of ransom. Rebecca asks if Izarak would be willing to help, as she is quite tied up with fighting. Izarak of course agrees. Rebecca tells him that some local gang seems to have been involved, so perhaps he could start there. If he needs any backup, he shouldn’t hesitate to ask, apparently Rebecca has quite a bit of clout (the Lady Rebecca part may have something to do with it). Before they part, Rebecca comments that Izarak has gotten older, though it’s not a bad thing, and Izarak replies that Rebecca seems to not have changed a bit.

The gangers’ time is mostly spent on looting and helping here and there. Alice and Larry decide to work on their own as Julo seems to have been getting antsier about them.

Alice takes to looting weapons’ stores. She is on her way back to the base, when an Arbiter calls out to her. She freezes, lets him approach her and then stabs him in the chest. The Arbiter is, to put it mildly, upset about this. But before this can escalate into violence, Alice defuses the situation by saying that she understood him having some bad intentions. The Arbiter says he was merely hoping to ask some questions, namely that Alice has been seen with a ratling, and would she know where he is. Alice says she has no idea. The Arbiter thanks Alice and asks if he may have her address so he can maybe apologize more profusely for scaring her? She gives him an address to a local bordel. 

Larry attempts to find a place where Astartes might have been fighting, in hopes of better loot, but the place he stops to search seems to be yielding a little. And then he is approached by a Mechanicus, a Skitarius in Martian colors and with sergeant’s pips, who says he isn’t judging Larry for looting, he just needs to ask a question or two. Larry says he is not looting (and it’s technically true as he hasn’t found anything of interest). The Mechanicus shrugs, and says that he is looking for a man who has stolen something from the Mechanicus. He describes Julo pretty much to a T. Larry says he is sorry, he hasn’t seen anyone like that around. The Mechanicus thanks Larry anyway and turns to discuss something with his companions in the Cant Mechanicus. As he puts his hands on his hips, Larry notices a familiar looking rune hanging from the man’s belt.

He asks about it, and the Mechanicus comments he got it from a Fenrisian friend. Apparently the man usually lives on Fenris, as an assistant to the Iron Priests, but he’s here until this mission is over. It turns out that Larry also has a similar rune, and that they’ve gotten them from the same person, someone named Gorm (whoever that is), though the Mechanicus admits that he hasn’t seen the man in years.

Larry asks if he could somehow contact the man, not to talk about Wolves, but in case he finds this thief. The Mechanicus says Larry can use the ship to vox him, and mentions there being a reward if the item is retrieved. Before the Mechanicus leaves, Larry asks him his name and the man says that since his Mechanicus name is a bunch of numbers, non-Mechanicus usually just call him Vivek.

Once Larry has returned back to the base, he sneakily gathers Alice and Iris (Iris being Larry’s Mechanicus friend) together into a toilet to have a meeting. Alice and Iris know each other, as both have been in the gang for longer than Larry, but have never talked much. Larry lets Iris know that Alice is alright, and then mentions that they really need to get out of the gang, as Julo has clearly gone off the deep end, what with wanting to bomb Mechanicus and being suspicious of Alice and Larry. He mentions running into a Mechanicus, who was offering a reward for returning the stolen item in Julo’s possession. He also says that it should be someone that would be familiar with Iris, namely someone named Vivek. Iris does recognize the name, Vivek’s an old friend, but is a bit surprised to hear him in Martian Mechanicus garb, as he left with a Wolf to live on Fenris. The Wolf’s name was something like Wulfr(?), Yffi(?), Uffe(??). But it seems like a good way out, provided Vivek can be trusted. 

Iris is a bit worried about leaving loose ties, and Alice mentions that if she wants to leave the gang, she’ll have to kill Julo, which she is apparently quite willing to do by herself. There might be some upset gang members for Julo’s death, but Alice knows few possible candidates to take over Clan after Julo is gone. So now this thievery-murder combo just needs to planned and put into action.

But more on that next time!

[golbrocklovely]

only the lonely survive // colby brock - chapter fifteen: and about forgiveness, we’re both supposed to have exchanged

A/N: hey guys :) here’s the next chapter. some crazy stuff happens in this, so let me know what you think. i’ll be coming out with another request at some point soon, so be on the lookout for that.

description of the story

taglist:  @ajosieface , @localsleeper , @julyrubyrose , @far-to-many-bands , @absolute-randomness-forever

trigger warning: cursing

word count: 2200

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After talking to Casey for over an hour about Colby and Brennen, I finally went to my room. Removing my dress from the other night and changing into pjs, I scrolled through my phone again out of boredom. I was gaining a lot of followers and subscribers, my dms were filled to the max, and people were tagging me in everything.

This is all a bit overwhelming.

I clicked on my username on insta and went down to my secret account: my Sam and Colby fan account. No one knew of golbrockloves, mostly because I never talked about it. I especially haven't brought it up to Colby.

How do you tell the guy you made out with that you have an instagram dedicated to him and his best friend without looking creepy? Exactly.

I slid down my feed, only to be met with pictures and videos of me. One video was a screen recording of my snapchat from yesterday, me and Colby in the store.

Why does that feel like such a long time ago?

The next couple pictures were from people's stories: screenshots of me and Colby dancing together, me and Colby next to each other in the kitchen, me and Brennen.

I bit my lip anxiously as I clicked on the comments. They weren't exactly bad, but they weren't great.

 snc3lifee who the fck is she?????

samnccolbby her @ is skyebennett

lovely_sncc is she dating colby or brennen?

saramcc OMG COLBY AND HER ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER

solby5vr she better stay away from colby!! HES MINE!!!!

dolansnc why can't colby stand next to a girl without everyone shipping her with him? jesus christ this fandom

 It was strange to see fans talk about me, as if they didn't know I would see what they were saying. Maybe having this fan account was a good thing: I could see how they all honestly thought about me without anyone knowing.

After reading more and more comments, I could tell most believed me and Colby were together. Or maybe me and Brennen. No one was certain. All they knew was that I was close to both. A lot of fans kept saying that I wasn't dating either one of them and that I was just friends.

While still lurking around on insta, I got a bunch of notifications from my personal account. I switched over to it to see I was tagged in multiple snippets of videos. Clicking on the it, I saw the face of Travis Marcus. He had uploaded a new video to his channel, titled "my truth".

Oh God...

I went to youtube and saw his video was slowly starting to trend. I clicked play and sat down on my bed.

Travis sighed, glancing up at the camera. "Hey guys, it's your boy Travis. Um, I have a lot to get off my chest right now. I'm sorry my energy isn't as high as it usually is. But, I needed to set the record straight. There is a lot of shitty things going around about me lately and I wanted to clear the air and tell you the truth."

"Skye, did you see-" Casey stated, dashing into my room. She stopped when she saw my phone in my hand. We both stood there watching Travis.

"So, as you guys know, I was recently accused of doing something terrible... of bullying another youtuber. I won't say her name because she doesn't deserve any more hate... or clout." His lips twitched, trying to cover up a smirk.

"As if he didn't tag you in the fucking video. Fucking asshat." Casey mumbled.

"One of her friends, Brennen Taylor, an old viner, tweeted that I made fun of her at a party recently. I just wanted to say that this is completely false. What actually happened was that I introduced myself to her. She claimed she was a huge fan and that she wanted to… get with me." Travis nodded his head uncomfortably.

What the fuck.

He continued. “I declined because she was extremely intoxicated. She then proceeded to get upset with me, made a huge scene, got kicked out of the party, and then I can only assume went to Brennen. He was also really drunk, which is why he tweeted in the first place.”

Casey gasped. “Are you kidding me? I'm gonna kill h-”

I hushed her, my eyes never leaving the screen.

“I have footage from that night, because I vlogged it. However, the audio got fucked up so I'm sorry for how muffled it is.” He admitted.

The screen changed to the night of the party. I saw myself standing in front of Travis, talking to him. The audio was complete garbage, low and muffled. I glanced over at the camera, only a moment later Travis nodded at it, smirking. Something I didn't see at the time. My face contorts for a second, he shrugs, and I shake my head, leaving immediately afterwards.

“Now, does that look like I was making fun of her? No. I would never do that. She was upset because I respectfully told her I didn't want to get with her after all her advances. She literally tried later that night to dance up on me, but I just wasn't into her. After I filmed this, she got kicked out for trying to hook up with another youtuber. I think she's desperate for views and just wants more followers.” He declared.

“So, don't give her that attention. And, don't send her hate guys. I wish her and Brennen the best honestly. Sorry this video is so short, I needed to get this off my chest. I hope you all can understand. Peace.” He threw up a peace sign, and then pushed his hand into the lens of the camera, the video fading to black.

Stunned silence fell over the room. Neither one of us could speak.

“Is this real life? I kinda feel like I've had this nightmare before.” I whispered.

“He can't be serious. Does he really think he can get away with this?” Casey shook with rage.

“Why wouldn't he be able to? He has almost a million followers. I just passed 2,000, if I haven't already lost all of them.” My voice faltered.

“I'm gonna call Brennen and see if he can help.” Casey left quickly, pulling out her phone.

I laid my back against my bed, closing my eyes. I took a couple deep breaths, trying to slow down my heart-rate.

That's it.

I sat up quickly. I went over to my desk and pulled out my camera. Setting it up on my tripod, I got comfortable in my chair.

I sighed deeply, then turned my camera on

"Hi everyone. I didn't think this amount of drama would happen to me so soon in my youtube career, yet here we are." I joked.

"I'm sorry if this video is a little all over the place. I'm not editing it. I'm just gonna post it as is.” I clapped my hands together, trying to stop their shaking.

I cleared my throat. “If you don't know, I'm the girl Travis Marcus made fun of. Or he claims he didn't make fun of. I need you all to know that he is lying. I'm not sure why when he could easily just admit he fucked up and apologize. Instead, he did this.”

“I want to tell you guys what actually happened that night…” I stated, looking directly at the camera.

I began to explain that party in detail: how Travis came up to me, how he flirted with me, only for him to make fun of my appearance and film it. I then went on to explain how I left the party because of him ruining my night, only to be told a couple hours later that he got kicked out of the party because he started a fight with Sam, Colby, and Brennen by throwing his drink on Kat.

"I have four witnesses, plus my best friend. And Big Nik's security team could easily corroborate my story. On top of all that, I have this."

I grabbed my phone, pulled open my dms on twitter, and found Travis' message to me. I showed the message to the camera, letting it focus on his words.

Travis: please tell Brennen to take down the tweets. Things are getting out of hand. I apologize for what I said.

"Why would you apologize for something that you didn't do? All of this could have been avoided if you wouldn't have made fun of me. I get you're 'famous' and have the ego the size of a tractor-trailer, but that doesn't mean you get to make fun of random people because they don't fit into what you think is attractive. Be nicer. Be kind. And stop lying to make yourself look good."

I reached over and turned off my camera. I paused, my breath hitching in my throat for a moment.

Holy fuck, did I just film that?

/  /  /  /

I felt cozy surface beneath me tremble slightly. Three times in a row. I opened my eyes, glancing around my dark room.

Was all of that a dream?

I slid my hand over my bed, finding the item that was vibrating. I turned it over, my eyes closing instantly from the bright light. Squinting, I saw messages from all different people. But the most recent made me smile softly.

Colby: are you up to talk?

I shuffled my body upwards, leaning over and turning my light on. I gazed over at my sleeping laptop, my camera still plugged in. The memories flooded back to me. I uploaded a response to Travis, and instantly fell asleep from anxiety induced exhaustion. I didn't even want to see if anyone supported me or not.

Unlocking my phone, I went to Colby's message immediately.

Skye: just woke up. i'm down to talk.

Moments later, my phone started ringing. I answered it. "Hey Colby."

"Hey. How are you doing?" He asked sweetly.

I chuckled. “I've been better, that's for sure.”

“How long have you been asleep? Everyone's been trying to contact you.” He stated.

I shrugged. “Right after I uploaded the video, I fell asleep. I was just too stressed.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” He apologized.

I held back a smile. “It's okay. I'm alright.”

“So, I guess you don't know what happened.” Colby replied.

“No, what did?” I questioned.

“Travis deleted his video.” He deadpanned.

I sat up quickly. “Wait what?”

“Well, after you posted yours, Brennen and I talked to Big Nik and we found out from him that his friend John was recording a snapchat during the fight that occurred with all of us in it. It shows Travis getting pulled out of the party yelling essentially what he said to you at everyone.” He informed me, continuing. “He cussed and screamed while he got kicked out, and John sent the video to Messy Monday, and they uploaded it to twitter. It's been trending for the past couple hours.”

“Holy shit. So, the snapchat proved me right?” I muttered.

“Yep. Travis took down his video. He's been radio silent since.” He laughed.

“He probably left a few choice words for me.” I said, rolling my eyes.

“If he did, let me know. I got some unfinished business with him.” Colby joked, causing me to let out a laugh. “Besides, before he deleted his video, Sam, me, Kat, and Brennen all came out on twitter and said that you were right. On top of that, apparently a thread was created of how rude Travis has been to fans. So... he's kinda done for.”

“I wouldn't be so sure of that. He'll be back in less than a month.” I scoffed, pulling my blanket closer to me.

“Well, even if he does come back, everyone will know you were right.” He reassured.

I picked at my blanket. “Tell that to his fans.”

“Enough about Travis. Is there anything I can do to get your mind off of him?” He requested.

I sighed. “Like what?”

“Go out with me.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“What?” I choked.

“Go out with me. Where ever you want to go, I'll take you there.” Colby promised.

“When are you taking me out?”

“How about tomorrow? Say eight P.M?”

A smile rose to my lips. “Okay... that sounds good.”

“Where do you want to go?” He inquired.

“If you don't mind it... I kinda want to stay in for a bit. Hide away from the world. Maybe you could come here? We could order take out and watch some movies. And cuddle?” I bit my lip nervously.

He agreed happily. “That sounds fantastic.”

“Good. I can't wait.” I beamed.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?” He mumbled, yawning.

I shook my head. “No. Besides, you sound like you need to go to sleep.”

“I'll stay up if you want me to.” He admitted.

“No. No, I'm okay really. You should get some sleep.” I declared.

“Alright. I'll see you tomorrow.” He responded.

“It's a date.” I smiled.

“Goodnight, Skye.” He whispered.

I giggled quietly. “Goodnight, Colby.”

<< CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 16 >>

[regencyresource]

( * &. ━ list of slang words from the 1920′s

presenting a long list of slang terms from the “roaring twenties" ! the age of mobsters and jazz ! the time of longing after married women and staring into green-lights to include in your literary ventures ! i claim no ownership for this list, it was sourced HERE.

A

Alderman: A man's pot-belly

Ameche: Telephone 

Ankle: (n) Woman; (v) To walk 

Ab-so-lute-ly: Affirmative, yes 

Absent treatment: Dancing with a timid partner 

Air tight: Very attractive 

Airedale: An unattractive man 

Alarm clock: A chaperone 

All wet: Incorrect 

And how!: I strongly agree! 

Applesauce: Flattery, nonsense, i.e.. "Aw, applesauce!" 

Attaboy!: Well done!; also, Attagirl! 

B

Babe: Woman 

Baby: A person, can be said to either a man or a woman 

Bangtails: Racehorses 

Barber: Talk 

Be on the nut: To be broke 

Bean-shooter: Gun 

Beef: Problem 

Bee's Knees: An extraordinary person, thing or idea

Beezer: Nose 

Behind the eight ball: In a difficult position, in a tight spot 

Bent Cars: Stolen cars 

Big Cheese, Big Shot: The boss, someone of importance and influence 

Big House: Jail 

Big One: Death 

Big Sleep: Death 

Bim: Woman 

Bindle: The bundle in which a hobo carries all his worldly possessions 

Bindle punk or bindle stiff: Chronic wanderers, migratory harvest workers, and lumber jacks

Bing: Jailhouse talk for solitary confinement 

Bird: Man 

Bit: Prison sentence 

Blip off: To kill 

Blow: Leave 

Blow one down: Kill someone 

Blower: Telephone 

Bluenose: A prude

Bo: Pal, buster, fellow 

Boiler: Car 

Boob: Dumb guy 

Boozehound: Drunkard 

Bop: To kill 

Box: A safe or a bar 

Box job: A safecracking 

Brace (somebody): Grab, shake up 

Bracelets: Handcuffs 

Break it up: Stop that, quit the nonsense 

Breeze: To leave, breeze off: get lost 

Broad: Woman 

Bruno: Tough guy, enforcer 

Bucket: Car 

Bulge, The: The advantage 

Bulls: Plainclothes railroad cops; uniformed police; prison guards 

Bum's rush, To get the: To be kicked out 

Bump: Kill 

Bump Gums: To talk about nothing worthwhile 

Bump off: Kill; also, bump-off: a killing 

Burn powder: Fire a gun 

Bus: Big car 

Butter-and-egg-man: The money man, the man with the bankroll, a yokel who comes to town to blow a big wad in nightclubs 

Button: Face, nose, end of jaw 

Button man: Professional killer 

Buttons: Police 

Butts: Cigarettes 

Buzz: Looks person up, comes to persons door 

Buzzer: Policeman's badge 

C

C: $100, a pair of Cs = $200 

Cabbage: Money 

Caboose: Jail 

Call copper: Inform the police 

Can: Jail, Car 

Can house: Bordello 

Can-opener: Safecracker who opens cheap safes 

Canary: Woman singer 

Carry a Torch: Suffering from an unrequited love

Case dough: Nest egg 

Cat: Man 

Cat's Meow: Something splendid or stylish 

Cat's Pajamas: Term of endearment as in "I think you are really really cool"

Century: $100 

Cheaters: Sunglasses 

Cheese it: Put things away, hide 

Chew: Eat 

Chicago lightning: Gunfire 

Chicago overcoat: Coffin 

Chick: Woman 

Chilled off: Killed 

Chin: Conversation; chinning: talking 

Chin music: Punch on the jaw 

Chinese squeeze: Grafting by skimming profits off the top 

Chippy: Woman of easy virtue 

Chisel: To swindle or cheat 

Chiv: Knife, "a stabbing or cutting weapon" 

Chopper squad: Men with machine guns 

Chump: Person marked for a con or a gullible person

Clammed: Close-mouthed (clammed up) 

Clean sneak: An escape with no clues left behind 

Clip joint: In some cases, a nightclub where the prices are high and the patrons are fleeced 

Clipped: Shot 

Close your head: Shut up 

Clout: Shoplifter 

Clubhouse: Police station 

Con: Confidence game, swindle 

Conk: Head 

Cool: To knock out 

Cooler: Jail 

Cop: Detective, even a private one 

Copped, to be: Grabbed by the cops 

Copper: Policeman 

Corn: Bourbon ("corn liquor") 

Crab: Figure out 

Crate: Car 

Croak: To kill 

Croaker: Doctor 

Crush: An infatuation 

Crushed out: Escaped (from jail) 

Cut down: Killed 

D

Daisy: None too masculine 

Dame: Woman 

Dance: To be hanged 

Dangle: Leave, get lost 

Daylight, as in "fill him with daylight": Put a hole in, by shooting or stabbing 

Deck, as in "deck of Luckies": Pack of cigarettes 

Derrick: Shoplifter 

Dib: Share (of the proceeds) 

Dick: Detective (usually qualified with "private" if not a policeman) 

Dingus: Thing 

Dip: Pickpocket 

Dip the bill: Have a drink 

Dish: Pretty woman 

Dive: A low-down, cheap sort of place 

Dizzy with a dame, To be: To be deeply in love with a woman 

Do the dance: To be hanged 

Dogs: Feet 

Dope fiend: Drug addict 

Dope peddler: Drug dealer 

Dough: Money 

Drift: Go, leave 

Drill: Shoot 

Drop a dime: Make a phone call, sometimes meaning to the police to inform on someone 

Droppers: Hired killers 

Drum: Speakeasy 

Dry-gulch: Knock out, hit on head after ambushing 

Duck soup: Easy, a piece of cake 

Dummerer: Someone who pretends to be deaf and/or dumb to appear a more deserving beggar 

Dump: Roadhouse, club; or, more generally, any place 

Dust out: Leave, depart 

E

Egg: Man 

Electric cure: Electrocution 

Elephant ears: Police 

F

Fade: Go away, get lost 

Fakeloo artist: Con man 

Fella: A man 

Fin: $5 bill 

Finder: Finger man 

Finger, Put the finger on: Identify 

Flaming Youth: Male counterpart to a flapper

Flapper: A stylish, brash young woman with short skirts and shorter hair

Flat Tire: A dull-witted or disappointing date

Flattie: Flatfoot, cop 

Flimflam: Swindle 

Flippers: Hands 

Flivver: A Ford automobile 

Flogger: Overcoat 

Flop: Go to bed or fallen through, not worked out 

Flophouse: A cheap transient hotel where a lot of men sleep in large rooms 

Fog: To shoot 

Frail: Woman 

Frau: Wife 

Fry: To be electrocuted 

Fuzz: Police 

G

Gal: Woman 

Gams: A Woman’s Legs 

Gasper: Cigarette 

Gat: Gun 

Get Sore: Get mad 

Getaway sticks: Legs 

Giggle juice: Liquor 

Giggle Water: Liquor 

Gin mill: Bar 

Glad rags: Fancy clothes 

Glaum: Steal 

Goofy: Crazy 

Goog: Black eye 

Goon: Thug 

Gooseberry lay: Stealing clothes from a clothesline 

Gowed-up: On dope, high 

Grab (a little) air: Put your hands up 

Graft: Con jobs or cut of the take 

Grand: $1000 

Grift: Confidence game, swindle 

Grifter: Con man 

Grilled: Questioned 

Gumshoe: Detective 

Gumshoeing: Detective work 

Gun for: Look for, be after 

Guns: Pickpockets, Hoodlums 

Guy: A man 

H

Hack: Taxi 

Half, a: 50 cents 

Hard: Tough 

Harlem Sunset: Some sort fatal injury caused by knife 

Hash House: A cheap restaurant 

Hatchet men: Killers, gunmen 

Have the Bees: To be rich 

Head doctors: Psychiatrists 

Heap: Car 

Heat: Police 

Heater: Gun 

Heebie-Jeebies: The jitters

Heeled: Carrying a gun 

High-Hat: To snub 

High Pillow: Person at the top, in charge 

Highbinders: Corrupt politician or functionary 

Hinky: Suspicious 

Hitting the pipe: Smoking opium 

Hitting on all eight: In good shape, going well 

Hock shop: Pawnshop 

Hogs: Engines 

Hombre: Man, fellow 

Hooch: Liquor 

Hood: Criminal 

Hoofer: Dancer

Hoosegow: Jail 

Horn: Telephone 

Hot: Stolen 

Hotsy-Totsy: Pleasing

House dick: House/hotel detective 

House peeper: House/hotel detective 

Hype: Shortchange artist 

I

Ice : Diamonds 

Ing-bing, as in to throw an: A fit 

Iron: A car 

J

Jack: Money 

Jalopy: An old car

Jam: Trouble, a tight spot 

Jane: A woman 

Java: Coffee 

Jaw: Talk 

Jerking a nod: Nodding 

Jingle-brained: Addled 

Jobbie: Man 

Joe: Coffee, as in "a cup of joe" 

Johns: Police 

Johnson brother: Criminal 

Joint: Place, as in "my joint" 

Juice: Interest on a loanshark's loan 

Jug: Jail 

Jump, The: A hanging 

K

Kale: Money 

Keen: Attractive or appealing

Kick off: Die 

Kiss: To punch 

Kisser: Mouth 

Kitten: Woman 

Knock off: Kill 

L

Lammed off: Ran away, escaped 

Large: $1,000; twenty large would be $20,000 

Law, the: The police 

Lead, "fill ya full of lead": the term used for bullets 

Lead poisoning: To be shot 

Lettuce: Folding money 

Lid: Hat 

Line: Insincere flattery

Lip: (Criminal) lawyer 

Looker: Pretty woman 

Look-out: Outside man 

Lousy with: To have lots of 

M

Mac: A man 

Made: Recognized 

Map: Face 

Marbles: Pearls 

Mark: Sucker, victim of swindle or fixed game 

Maroon: Person marked for a con or a gullible person

Meat wagon: Ambulance 

Mickey Finn: A drink drugged with knock-out drops 

Mill: Typewriter 

Mitt: Hand 

Mob: Gang (not necessarily Mafia) 

Mohaska: Gun 

Moll: Girlfriend 

Monicker: Name 

Mouthpiece: Lawyer 

Mugs: Men (especially refers to dumb ones) 

N

Nailed: Caught by the police 

Nevada gas: Cyanide 

Newshawk: Reporter 

Newsie: Newspaper vendor 

Nibble one: To have a drink 

Nicked: Stole 

Nippers: Handcuffs 

Noodle: Head 

Number: A person 

O

Off the track: Said about a person who becomes insanely violent 

Op: Detective 

Orphan paper: Bad checks 

Out on the roof: To drink a lot, to be drunk 

Oyster fruit: Pearls 

P

Packing Heat: Carrying a gun 

Pal: A man 

Palooka: Man, probably not very smart 

Pan: Face 

Paste: Punch 

Patsy: Person who is set up; fool, chump 

Paw: Hand 

Peaching: Informing 

Peeper: Detective 

Peepers: Eyes 

Pen: Penitentiary, jail 

Peterman: Safecracker who uses nitroglycerin 

Piece: Gun 

Pigeon: Stool-pigeon 

Pinch: An arrest, capture 

Pins: Legs 

Pipe: See or notice 

Pipes: Throat 

Plant: Someone on the scene but in hiding, Bury 

Plug: Shoot 

Plugs: People 

Poke: Bankroll, stake 

Pooped: Killed 

Pop: Kill 

Pro skirt: Prostitute 

Puffing: Mugging 

Pug: Pugilist, boxer 

Pump: Heart 

Pump metal: Shoot bullets 

Punk: Hood, thug 

Pushover: A person easily convinced of something

Puss: Face 

Put down: Drink 

Put the screws on: Question, get tough with 

R

Rags: Clothes 

Ranked: Observed, watched, given the once-over 

Rap: Criminal charge 

Rappers: Fakes, set-ups 

Rat: Inform 

Rate: To be good, to count for something 

Rats and mice: Dice, i.e. craps 

Rattler: Train 

Red-light: To eject from a car or train 

Redhot: Some sort of criminal 

Reefers: Marijuana cigarettes 

Rhino: Money 

Right: Adjective indicating quality 

Ringers: Fakes 

Ritzy: Elegant 

Rod: Gun 

Roscoe: Gun 

Rub-out: A killing 

Rube: Bumpkin, easy mark 

Rumble, the: The news 

S

Sap: A dumb guy 

Sap poison: Getting hit with a sap 

Savvy: Get me? Understand? 

Sawbuck: $10 bill (a double sawbuck is a $20 bill) 

Schnozzle: Nose 

Scram out: Leave 

Scratch: Money 

Scratcher: Forger 

Send over: Send to jail 

Shamus: (Private) detective 

Sharper: A swindler or sneaky person 

Sheba: A woman with sex appeal 

Sheik: A man with sex appeal 

Shells: Bullets 

Shiv: Knife 

Shylock: Loanshark 

Shyster: Lawyer 

Sing: Make a confession 

Sister: Woman 

Skate around: To be of easy virtue 

Skid rogue: A bum who can't be trusted 

Skirt: Woman 

Slant, Get a: Take a look 

Sleuth: Detective 

Slug: A bullet or to knock unconscious 

Smoked: Drunk 

Snap a cap: Shout 

Snatch: Kidnap 

Sneeze: Take 

Snitch: An informer, or to inform 

Snooper: Detective 

Speakeasy: An illicit bar selling bootleg liquor 

Spiffy: Looking elegant 

Soak: To pawn 

Sock: Punch 

Soup: Nitroglycerine 

Soup job: To crack a safe using nitroglycerine 

Spill: Talk, inform 

Spinach: Money 

Spitting: Talking 

Square: Honest 

Squeeze: A female companion or girlfriend

Squirt metal: Shoot bullets 

Step off: To be hanged 

Stiff: A corpse 

Sting: Culmination of a con game 

Stool-pigeon: Informer 

Stoolie: Stool-pigeon 

Stuck On: Having a crush on 

Sucker: Someone ripe for a grifter's scam 

Sugar: Money 

Swanky: Ritzy 

Swell: Wonderful 

T

Tail: Shadow or follow 

Take a powder: Leave 

Take on: Eat 

Take for a Ride: Drive off with someone in order to bump them off 

Take the air: Leave 

Take the bounce: To get kicked out 

Take the fall for: Accept punishment for 

That's the crop: That's all of it 

Three-spot: Three-year jail term 

Throw lead: Shoot bullets 

Ticket: P.I. license 

Tiger milk: Some sort of liquor 

Tighten the screws: Put pressure on somebody 

Tin: Badge 

Tip a few: To have a few drinks 

Tomato: Pretty woman 

Tooting the wrong ringer: Asking the wrong person 

Torpedoes: Gunmen 

Trap: Mouth 

Trigger man: Man whose job is to use a gun 

Trouble boys: Gangsters 

Twist: Woman 

Two bits: $25, or 25 cents 

U

Under glass: In jail 

W

Weak sister: A push-over 

Wear iron: Carry a gun 

Wise head: A smart person 

Wooden kimono: A coffin 

Wop: derogatory term for an Italian 

Worker, as in "She sizes up as a worker": A woman who takes a guy for his money 

Wrong gee: Not a good fellow 

Wrong number: Not a good fellow 

Y

Ya Follow: do you understand? 

Yap: Mouth 

Yard: $100 

Yegg: Safecracker who can only open cheap and easy safes 

Z

Zotzed: Killed

Zozzled: Drunk

[angeltriestoblog]

18

Welcome to my first blog post as an 18 year-old! And yes, I am well aware that I can legally drink and could be sent to jail, thank you very much. (Not that I have any plans to, though.)

I reached this milestone in my life last July 5th. As I mentioned in an earlier entry, I decided to not go the traditional route and instead, opted for a trip to Korea last April and a week’s worth of festivities with family and friends.

I kicked off the celebration with lunch at a Korean barbecue place with my parents, then had a feast with my extended family (mother’s side) in Italianni’s.

I even got my cousin, Miguel, to go on with me on the ferris wheel nearby where I tried my best to admire the beautiful view of Manila Bay before us while screaming my head off.

For my actual birthday, I treated my closest friends from high school at yet another K-BBQ place for lunch, and then went to my favorite buffet place with my family for dinner. My friends Junelle, Danna and I also finally pushed through with our months-old plan of dropping by the karaoke bar relatively near to us, which served as a great release for pent-up emotions and a showcase of our non-existent vocal abilities.

This year, I also decided to go out on a limb and hold a project of my own. I was originally planning on giving away some of the old books I had piled up in my room to nearby orphanages, but with the time constraints I had, I couldn’t really afford to execute something so grand. So, with the help of my mom, I decided that it would be best to start small. We bought these tumblers from the nearby grocery and filled them to the brim with candies and chocolate bars, then gave them to the kids selling sampaguita at our church. I was really iffy about writing this part, because I know it’s easy to misconstrue my intentions for doing so: some people will probably just dismiss this as some put-on act of charity posted for clout. But, the experience was just so rewarding for me I had to. The children were all so appreciative, beaming at me, expressing their gratitude through belated birthday greetings and musings of how they could use my little gift for school – it kind of made me feel like my heart was on fire, but in the best way possible.

Anyway, now on to the standard realizations I make sure to include in nine out of ten posts.

This birthday in particular was a big deal for me, for obvious reasons. I had always regarded 18 as the age of independence and freedom: I equated it to having the liberty to do whatever I wanted, go anywhere I pleased with anyone at all, make the big decisions and know the answers to all the questions I’ve been asking my elders since I was a kid. I guess I forgot that I’m not the protagonist of the coming-of-age films I grew up indulging in, but a sheltered kid who has had most things done for her and thus has yet to acquire the basic life skills needed to survive The Real World. My parents said that I’m this way because they wanted to give me a life of convenience, and thus did anything that required me going out of my comfort zone, for me. All these years, I never found myself complaining about it or demanding that something be changed but for some reason, this stage of supposed adulthood has pressured me into thinking that there’s something terribly wrong with this because now, I have so much growing up to do.

Obviously, the biggest life change that I’ll have to deal with would be college: having to balance academics, extracurricular activities and different people in an entirely foreign environment sounded so terrifying for me. People would always tell me that grades have and could never be an issue for me: I was born the Smart Kid™ with a lot of potential, remember? I was generally a star student in all the schools I had attended, and everyone knew about it: I didn’t have to exert any effort to prove myself to those around me, because my grades did the talking. But, suddenly I’m about to enter this prestigious university with a rigorous screening process that takes in the Smart Kids™ from institutions all around the country. How am I expected to stand out in a place like that and get the Latin honors I can’t help but aim for?

Extracurriculars also have a huge bearing and apparently are an essential part of the whole college experience, which is weird to me since I’ve never really committed to a specific club all throughout my grade school and high school life. It seemed like more of a requirement to me than anything else, so deciding which one to join was like playing pin the tail on the donkey with my friends.

And, while I’m on that note: what about making new friends? I do appear to be outgoing and loud—especially if you’ve heard my piercing shrieks in my old Grade 12 classroom—but I’m only like that around those I’m truly comfortable with, and even that number has dwindled over the years. It’s hard to find people with the same interests as I do, and I’m growing more and more unsure of the fact that there are Ateneans who like K-Pop boy groups and laugh at the jeje memes I have in my camera roll. (I will cry if I don’t find anyone who can watch Japer Sniper videos with me.) I haven’t had to introduce myself to a new person in two years both IRL and online and I let them lead the conversation for a long while before I can think of warming up to them.

I also have to learn how to drive, which can come off as a surprise to anyone who’s known me for a while. I’ve always been the type to let go of the steering wheel and cover my eyes when the situation got out of control at the bumper cars. But, once I found out that ADMU isn’t actually the most commuter-friendly of schools, I didn’t really have a choice. On my first day of lessons, I was scared to my very core: my mind couldn’t stop bombarding me with stories of vehicular accidents and picture slideshows of cats that got run over. Although I did pass all four days and am now eligible to have my own license, I still have much work to do before I can take our Civic for a spin along Katipunan: please pray I learn how to parallel park without crashing into anything. I guess it would also be a bonus if I learned how to commute to and from places. I love going out, and I wish I always knew how to get to where I wanted to go and what mode of transportation to take instead of always relying on trikes and taxis all the time.

Since I’m of legal age, I’m also qualified to register to vote. I’ve started immersing myself in current events and politics a few years back, and I witnessed several people my age get shot down by adults when they did so much as express their opinions. “Masyado kang bata,” they’d argue. “Di nga kayo botante eh, wag na kayong makialam!” (But, the indifference of the youth would still be met with biting remarks like, “Wala na ba kayong ibang gagawin kundi mag-Internet? Magkaroon naman kayo ng pakialam sa nangyayari sa paligid!”) So now, I feel a certain kind of satisfaction in finally getting a say in who runs my country. But, at the same time, there’s also an intense kind of pressure since I am expected to discern which candidate serves the people’s best interests and hopefully lead us out of the downward spiral we’re currently making our way through.

It was only very recently—towards the start of the final month of my vacation—that I realized how stagnant I still was a person. Must be surprising for some of you. I feel like I somewhat project this image of being constantly put together. Very rarely do I let myself be vulnerable around other people. This is probably why every time I turn to someone to talk about my problems, I’m always met with reassurance: I, of all people, would have it under control, they say. I have absolutely nothing to worry about.

But, that’s the thing: when we’re on social media, we have this tendency to present only our best selves, turning our accounts into heavily filtered highlight reels. This is not only pretentious but toxic behavior, because of its failure to put things into perspective and show that everyone has their own fair share of both good and bad days. My Instagram feed may be its busy and color-coordinated self at the moment, but it doesn’t show the many nights I’ve spent crying because of how overwhelmed I was by this sudden surge in responsibilities and my inability to handle all of them. I mean, things can seem way beyond your control when your brain refuses to shut up and calm down.

I guess my failure to prepare for everything could be traced back to the beginning of this summer. In hindsight, the goals I had set for my four-month break were all very short-term and not exactly centered on self-improvement. I looked through the bullet journal I was keeping at the time, and found items like “clean my room”, “delete Facebook friends and Twitter followers I don’t interact with” and “buy a new study table” – one word for April 2018 Angel: why? I easily could have used the time to learn a new language or pledge to write 10 posts, maybe even pick up an instrument so I could have started a career as a Soundcloud artist and gotten myself a record deal instead of going to college (Mom, Dad, I’m kidding.) But for some reason, I didn’t even think of setting my standards that high. I spent a lot of time lying on my back, scrolling through the same old timelines several times a day as if the constant refreshing would bring anything of substance in my life.

It's much easier to let the regret paralyze me, to beat myself up for all the mistakes I’ve made and wonder why I didn’t do better. But, we all know that won’t help me get anywhere. As of now, I’m trying my best to be more vocal about my problems with other people so they don’t build up inside of me until I spontaneously combust. I admit I’m also quite the emotional person, so I really want to work on having a rational approach to whatever I’m going through.

I found this thread of healthy coping mechanisms and emergency plans to use during times of distress floating around. In case you guys are too lazy to click on the link, it basically says that you should first identify the trigger thought or whatever is sparking the negative emotions, identify the unhelpful thinking style that you are subscribing to and counter them through coping thoughts and actions to bring your mood back to the center. Twitter user thecolor_teal also says that one important thing to note is that you should never believe in your thoughts without critiquing them.

I’ve been doubling down on the worrying and channeling all that energy on pursuing other interests and planning my life out. I’m on my fifth book in the span of two weeks (I have a post coming up on this, so watch out!) and I just hit the 2k word mark on this post, so I can pretty much say I’m on a roll.  I also came up with three main goals that I want to prioritize as I venture into this new chapter of my life. I read somewhere that publicizing whatever you want to work on, jinxes them in a way but since there’s no scientific evidence to back it up, I’m taking the risk. It could serve as a constant reminder of what I have to do, or pressure me into following through because I’ve put it up here to everyone to see: either way, I win, I guess.

1. Be more involved – maintain a firm stance of my own in issues concerning the country, give back to my community, continue to take genuine interest in the lives of those around me and do whatever I can to help them

2. Be more sociable – judge people less; get to know and interact with people from as many different social circles as possible; learn how to make the first move, engage in small talk (!!!) and not end the conversation with an awkward laugh

3. Be more street smart – be confident when on my own in public places, distinguish when I’m being fooled by people, learn how to get out of sticky situations without having to ask for help

I don’t exactly have everything down pat yet but at this point, it’s become somewhat comforting for me to think that I’m not expected to, and that no one my age knows exactly what they’re doing. We’re all clueless kids with no idea what the future holds and if we’re truly capable of handling it – we’re all hanging on to our empty attempts at reassuring ourselves. Anyone who denies this is probably just trying to make themselves feel better and I’d like you lot to know that we see through you! Despite the sheer hopelessness of our situations, I hope you all make amends with your right to not know whatever the heck you’re doing with your life right now and learn to trust the process. You’ve probably been through worse in the past, but here you are: beaten and bruised and still dusting yourself off from the last time life let you down but still alive and valid and fighting and that’s all that matters. We got this, fellow adult-er. And that is not to be mistaken for adulterer, by the way. That’s not something we should strive to be.

[romymdxcontexualstudiesfirstyear]

The censorship of women on social media.

Deep rooted in our society is the attempt to control women, it goes back centuries. Women being told to act proper, lady like and quiet themselves, in fear of being unfairly labelled a shameful name. For decades this attitude towards women continued until more recent times, women have found new ways to challenge this outdated idea of womanhood. In today’s society women can proudly express their trues selves online, whether its speaking out about an issue they normally wouldn’t feel able to do or simply posting a picture of themselves. Although women nowadays have much more freedom then before, do they really have complete freedom? On social media women can post and write whatever they please, as long as it complies with the ‘community guidelines’, this is where the issues start to crop up. An alarming amount of women’s posts that get removed are to do with their appearance, if it doesn’t fit into the ‘healthy lifestyle’ or the objectified version of women. The culprit of this is usually Instagram and TikTok, along with most social media platforms having their own ridiculous guidelines.

Rupi Kaur the visual poet, had a menstruation-themed photo series which she posted to Instagram, to challenge the taboos of periods. One photo in particular gained some attention which resulted in it being removed twice, the image under fire (See Figure 1) was of the artist herself, fully clothed lying down in bed, with 2 small spots of bloods visible both on her trousers and the bed sheets. The post was then removed twice for violating community guidelines, Kaur challenged these removals and eventually the post was restored where you can still find it today. On the restored post Kaur writes how she “thanks Instagram for providing the exact response her work was created for, deleting a photo of a women who is fully clothed and menstruating, claiming that it goes agonist guidelines when the guidelines state that its nothing but acceptable.” (Kaur, 2015)

Although the post is back up and has been ever since, the fact that it was removed twice despite that there was nothing within the image that violated guidelines, proved how women are controlled to fit the common place ideals that have been ingrained into society. It’s surprising to see the amount of people who think this type of image shouldn’t be on social media, as if a women menstruating isn’t natural, it’s made to seem dirty which it just isn’t.

Figure 1. Rupi Jaur photographed by her sister Prabh Jaur, exposing a small part spot of blood, a part of the period series to break the taboos of menstruation. March 25th 2015.

Out of social media women are censored for simple things we might take for granted now, such as reading a book or educating yourself. Once women were ‘allowed’ to read and write books men started trolling and claimed that women’s novels were dangerously distracting, unrealistic and even damaging to their mental health; Men would often deem female writers insane or secretly male. Joan Acocella an American journalist comments on the book ‘The Women Reader’ by Belinda Jack (see figure 2) “Women seemed stupid therefore, they were considered unfit for education; therefore, they weren’t given an education; therefore, they seemed stupid” (Aocoella, 2012) this statement holds a lot of truth, women were never even given the chance to educate themselves and when they did they were called insane and made fun of.

Male writers retaliated by publishing ‘helpful advice’ for women, targeted to keep women in their place; but women fought back. Publishers in the 16th century would offer cheaper and smaller books that could easily be hidden from husbands, book clubs started to form among women, discussing what made men fear women reading do much? The biggest reason being that women would then start to gain their own opinion, unguided or unbiased and they would think independently, another form of women being censored to fit this ideal that had been created just to put them down. The fear of women gaining education is still feared in more modern societies today, for example Iran’s ban of women studying certain topics like English literature, a way of controlling women to do and act how predominantly men want them to act and being punished if they disobey these rules, similar to the community guidelines on social media but in a more serious way.

Figure 2. Front cover of “The Women Reader” by Belinda Jack, the book introduced frustrated female readers over many eras, exploring the differences between men and women’s reading tastes.

The social media platform TikTok is particularly a culprit of censoring and discriminating women, policing their bodies and removing videos with women with “abnormal body shapes”. Raeann Langas, a body-positive influencer with a substantial following on TikTok aims to show people that all bodies are beautiful, regardless of shape or size. Langas posted a video of her and a friend dancing on the beach in matching bikinis, (see figure 3.) a few days after she posted the video she realised that the video had been taken down for violating community guidelines, assuming the app didn’t allow those types of videos she didn’t feel the need to challenge it. But after some digging she found countless videos of women in bikinis using the same #bikini nut the only different was they were all straight-sized women. She says “It was alarming to me that they were clearly removing certain types of people and body types, not the mention a majority of these videos kept up were highly sexualised and would be considered inappropriate for certain viewers.” (Langas, 2020

Langas brings up a great point here, for a post to be “accepted” on social media it is overly sexualised and pretty much objectifies women. You see it on most social media platforms, for example if a slender, “in shape” women posted a bikini picture on Instagram it would get high praise from both women and men, but if a women with a bigger body and stereotypically “unfit” shape were to post the exact some picture, the response would be name calling and making her feel like she is less than, and in some cases the post gets taken down for “violating guidelines”, censoring women who express their true self because society has deemed their body type unappealing and not fir for social media.

Figure 3. Picture of Raeann Langas with her friend at the beach, spreading body positivity. Malibu California, 2020.

Despite this unjust censorship women have experienced for far too long, there is also a positive side to it. International Women’s Day always brings to light the achievements of women and gives them to opportunity to continue to challenge the status quo by changing the shape of society. Alyssa Milano the American actress, singer, author, producer and activist is known for many of her achievements but especially her #MeToo movement that sparked up in 2017, Milano asked women on Twitter to write ‘#MeToo’ if they had ever been sexually harassed or assaulted. In just a few short days tens of thousands of women had responded, one small outcry became an army or supporting women. (Protesting women after Harvey Weinstein arrest pictured below. (See figure 4)

The MeToo movement is just a small part of the victory for women, women having the right to be free, uncensored is shifting the social norms, especially on social media. From my own personal experience getting the upmost amount of support from women on social media is so uplifting, it makes you feel seen and listened to, not just other women preaching about her rights. The more women taken control and break down barriers on social media the more freedom we will get, no longer being put in our place for expressing ourselves, we will no longer conform to the misogynistic views and objectify ourselves for anyone.

Figure 4. Picture above is participants in the march against sexual assault and harassment apart of the MeToo movement in LA Hollywood, November 12th 2017.

The cases I have brought up all support the same opinion that I have about women and social media which is that, misogynistic, sexist and old-fashioned views that have for years censored women are now the very thing that are now giving us the power to take a stand and challenge the status quo. Recent events of women being attacked and sexually harassed are terrible and should never have happened, I feel as if people have already started to stop talking about it and only support it while its “trending” and once it’s done being in the spotlight we get censored again because people don’t really want to talk about the real issues, only talk about them when its gaining them clout, which I feel is the real problem with the social norms we have created. Although it may seem like every step we take we get knocked back three, but every small victory makes up a brighter and better future for women, we need to continue to challenge the status quo, breaking down the barriers and make people uncomfortable until we are heard. Censoring of women may never stop, but we can learn how to make the censorship our own and command what we can and can’t post, no more of being put in our place, more of claiming our rightful place.

[lilulo-12fanfiction]

Paladins Chapter 4

Author’s Note: Thank you for the follows and faves and reviews! I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Please forgive any spelling or grammar errors. I’m not having it beta’d and sometimes I miss some. Also- obviously not following the show to the tee. This chapter I kind of rearranged events because well it worked better for me this way. Enjoy! I promise to try to not have such a long period between chapters. I had the flu and was sick for a while on top of life getting in the way.

Cami deadpanned when she opened her door the next morning and Oliver was standing there holding coffee and what appeared to be breakfast. She walked away from the door without saying anything and he followed her in and kicked the door shut behind him.

“Cami-“ he started to speak but she held her hand up to stop him.

“Ollie we don’t have to do this okay?”

“Do what?”

“The song and dance where you beg me for forgiveness? Where I’m mad until you wear me down. I get it okay? We aren’t what we used to be. As much as we want to pretend that nothing changed in the 5 years you were gone. You’re hiding something. And for some reason you don’t want to tell me. Or feel like you can’t tell me. You don’t trust me anymore and that’s fine. But I cant do this. It hurts to know that you have this life that you’re shutting me out of and I have so much I’m dealing with. You just left me there yesterday, alone. You actually left and this is the first I’ve heard from you since.”

“I have no excuse for yesterday. We had a moment and it freaked me out a little bit. It opened up something that I haven’t been willing to accept because I’m a coward. There is so much that I want to tell you...I just...I can’t. You will never look at me the same. I’ll lose you for good and I cannot have you walk away from me.” She hadn’t seen him so upset before. She placed her hand on the side of his face. He was being sincere. She couldn’t stop herself. She leaned in and their lips touched for the briefest of moments and a pounding knock on her door jolted them apart. She walked back over to the door and barely had it open before Tommy barged in.

“He cut me off.” Was all he said as he pushed into the apartment.

“What?!”

“Our father- he cut off my inheritance. No warning.” Cami’s eyes went wide. She threw her bead back and groaned.

“I’m gonna go” Oliver stood. “Cam- can we get dinner tomorrow? Continue our conversation.” She nodded her head. He kissed her on the cheek and quickly exited the apartment.

A little while later she made the decision to follow Moira’s advice. She couldn’t take it anymore. She pulled her phone out and texted her assistant Romano while Tommy ranted. She had spoken to him last night about her plan. The two of them were close. He was like her life assistant. She decided to have Oliver followed. She had an idea of where he was spending his time after looking through the Queen Consolidated properties but she needed to be sure. She couldn’t stress the importance of not getting caught. She was positive John Diggle would not be gentle. Romano knew he couldn’t tell them anything if caught. She promised an amazing bonus if he caught a beating. She was confident that he would go unnoticed.

She let Tommy vent for a while longer and when he seemingly got it out of his system she was ready to interject. “Listen, Dad cutting you off like that was a real dick move. No arguments there. But at the same time you have to see why he did it. Tee, you have so much potential and because you’re more focused on making him pay for being a crap Dad to you, you’re wasting it. He should have talked to you first or at the very least warned you, something. But we will figure this out. You can stay with me until you figure out your next move.”

“I’m going to stay with Laurel” he admitted. She nodded not even slightly surprised. “But thank you for listening and thank you for the offer. I will figure this out. I was just pissed.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “No matter how pissed off I am at you I’m always here. No matter what. We stick together.”

He pulled back and gave her a skeptical look. “So uhh what’s going on with you and Oliver? There was some heavy sexual tension when I got her.” She gagged.

“Never say sexual tension to me again. Nothing is going on” Tommy gave her a pointed look. “Okay fine I have no idea what’s going on to be honest.”

“Well it’s about time something happened. I mean you’ve been in love with him since you were like 3 years old.”

“I take it back. You can’t stay here, ever. Get out” he laughed as she smacked him all the way out the door.

Oliver was working out in the bunker when John walked in. His mind was spinning about that morning.

“How’d it go?” He questioned. He was certain Cami chewed him up and spit him back out. John admired the fire that she had. He also loved that she had no issue with putting Oliver Queen in his place.

“Surprising actually.” Oliver walked towards John. “She didn’t yell. She was upset. Really upset and I feel like a fucking scum bag for making her feel that way. She thinks I don’t trust her or don’t care. Which couldn’t be further from the truth. I mean I wasn’t lying when I told her last night freaked me out a bit and that I’m a coward when it comes to her. I’ve always felt something for her. But she’s Tommy’s sister.”

“She’s also an adult Oliver. She’s a woman who is clearly torn up about you. She has feelings for you. I saw the look on her face when she ran out of that party. She was devastated. And not for nothing but isn’t Tommy dating Laurel now? I mean he really doesn’t have anything to say.”

“I can’t be with her and not be honest with her. She knows me too well. She knows I’m hiding something. I told her that I was afraid she’d walk away. That she wouldn’t be able to deal with it and that she’d never see me the same way again.”

“What was her response?”

“She kissed me. I mean it was the shortest kiss in the history of man. Tommy was banging on her door literally the second her lips touched mine.”

“But she kissed you.” John saw a genuine smile on Oliver’s face for the first time. “Look man- if you don’t tell her, if you don’t bring her into the fold in some capacity you will most definitely lose her. Friendship or otherwise. I’ve seen how she looks at you. The fact that she even let you in her house today. She’s not going to walk away.”

“That then leaves the issue of telling her puts her in danger. What if someone went after her? Do I have any business being with her?”

“Don’t you think that’s for her to decide? You need to let someone else besides me in. You need to have someone to confide in. I can’t begin to even pretend to know what happened in those 5 years. But you need someone you can be completely unfiltered with. She’s it. ”

“I’ll think about it. But for now we need to discuss this Paul guy.”

Cami was pacing in her apartment. Oliver had been with Frank Bertinelli and then left with his daughter Helena. She didn’t know if it was a date or what it was. She hated herself for being so put out by it. She had no right to be. They had barely kissed and he didn’t owe her anything. She wondered if that feeling would ever go away. But what superseded those feelings were ones of worry. She knew Bertinelli was a mobster bad had been trying to book Moira and Walter for as long as she remembered. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Oliver had gotten himself into. She had sent Romano home a few hours ago. She didn’t need to know the details of what was happening at that restaurant.

Instead her SUV was parked within walking distance to the abandoned Queen Consolidated building in the glades. Oliver had spent a good portion of his day there and then John had joined him. She figured she had time to get in and get out with Oliver not here. She was ready to confirm her suspicions.She slowly made her way through the rundown building. It was a perfect cover. Why would anyone come here? She didn’t find anything incriminating. There had to be either and upper or lower level. She was glad in black leggings and black knee high boots, a fitted black vneck and a black baseball cap pulled down to cover her her hair and sheild her face. She was searching the building inch by inch when she spotted a door but stopped in her tracks. She felt goosebumps and the hair on her body standing on end. Someone else was there. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard the floor creek.

“Don’t take another step” a gruff voice came from whomever was behind her. She heard and arrow being pulled back. She rolled her eyes and raised her hands. “I’m not armed. You can put the bow and arrow down.”

“Don’t move” the command came again. She hadn’t expected to be caught. She let her intuition guide her next move like she had been taught by so many. Before the archer knew what hit him he was flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him after she had quickly dropped to a squat and spun her leg out. The heel of her boot was pressing into the hooded figures jugular.

“It’s not very nice to point a weapon at someone who tells you they’re not armed. Where are your manners?” She released her foot after making her point. As soon as he could breathe properly he stood up still shocked by what had happened but more shocked by who had done it.

“Cam.” Was all be said. She took the baseball cap off of her head. “Might as well drop your hood Oliver.”

“How did you know? How the hell did you figure out I was using the building.”

“You often forget who I am Oliver. One- I know you. I know when you’re lying. Two- we both know I’m way smater than you. No offense.” And three I’m a Merlyn. The resources I have are substantial and my name carries quite a bit of clout. You might be shocked to know I actually can be quite intimidating.” He sighed grabbed her by the arm and dragged her with him. He led her down to the bunker.

“Look what I found.” Cami wasn’t surprised to see John down in what seemed to be a bunker for Oliver’s extra curricular activities. “So who else did you tell?” He was angry. Cami scoffed.

“I told no one Oliver! And it’s really rich that YOU’RE mad right now! I should be furious with you!”

“I told you I needed time to open up.”

“About the Island Oliver. Not this. You never would have told me about this. Jesus. This is...I don’t know what this is. But this is what you thought would make me walk away from you? Because The Hood has killed people? Well those people were human garbage that the justice system couldn’t touch. Your methods may be extreme but you’ve made quite a difference.” Oliver was surprised.

“How did you know how to do that?” He finally spoke again. “What? Drop you on your ass? I told you my father had had me take all these fighting classes.”

“That was a little more than self-defense Cam.” She shrugged. “You know what my mother’s death did to him. You realize now I’m in right?”

“No. You’re not. I’m not letting you get hurt.” She rolled her eyes.

“I can take care of myself. And you don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do. You need help.”

“I have John.” She rolled her eyes at him. “He’s not me. Again- I have resources that he doesn’t, that you don’t. Oliver- you need me.” She was pleasding. She couldn’t let him do this without her. He was going to get himself killed. “She’s right.” John finally spoke.

“NOT helping Diggle. I’m taking you home.” Cami snatched her arm away. “You’re a mysoginistic asshole. I can drive myself.” And with that she stormed out of the bunker. Oliver signed and sat down as he rubbed his forehead.

“Oliver” John made his way over to Oliver.

“Don’t Digg. It’s not up for discussion. I needdd you to have my back with her. Talk her out of this. I don’t need her getting killed in the crossfire.” John held his hands up and backed away leading Oliver to his thoughts.

[abadpoetwithdreams]

Nirvana in Fire Episode 2 Reaction

(Hello, yes, it’s me again, the person who said she’d write a reaction post for every episode she watched and then went and watched SEVEN EPISODES IN THREE DAYS. I have regrets. I actually didn’t even want to stop watching long enough to write this, but I have to before I get too much deeper in. Everything below is written from my episode notes I made while watching episode 2 for the first time, so none of my later knowledge applies, here. I actually know names much better now, obviously. Also I continue to do really badly at not getting attached to anyone. Comically badly, really. I’m setting myself up for a lot of grief, I can tell.)

• So, episode two of Nirvana in Fire! We start this episode by immediately focusing on the princess (whose name is Ni Huang) which I was not expecting but which I welcomed wholly. After she had such a fun, powerful introduction, as well as that cheeky conversation with the Emperor, I am happy that her character gets even more fleshed out here. The fact that she is still unmarried is apparently a Big Deal, because until she is safely paired off with a suitable husband, she is a political wild card. Whoever marries her will essentially have her army of 10,000 men as a dowry, with all the clout that entails, making the Emperor anxious to arrange her marriage as quickly as possible. Unusually for this sort of story, though, he actually cares about her enough that he has let her put off marriage for a many years, so that’s rather sweet. He even seems proud that so many guys are interested in marrying her, which is cute. (He wavers between being proud that she’s so awesome and that so many people would want her, and being worried that so many people want her for the power she has.) In fact, even though this whole tournament for her suitors that he’s arranging seems like a final ultimatum, he seemingly is also going ahead and letting her have final combat with the top candidates, so I guess he’s potentially still letting it slide—for now.

• And why hasn’t she married, even though she is (as he friend so kindly tells her) no longer young? OH I CAN GUESS. *senses Doomed Romance looming closer*

• Side-note: I wish the Emperor’s eunuch buddy would stop smiling. He’s incredibly creepy. The performance reminds me of whoever played Osric in the Tennant production of Hamlet (arguably my favourite Hamlet: that perpetual smile that’s hilarious but also massively unsettling).

• Also Ni Huang has a younger brother? And he is going to take over the army now? Because the emperor is worried about the popularity and influence Ni Huang has among her own army? I’d say the Emperor is being needlessly paranoid, but I’ve watched various Asian period dramas before. He’s right to be skittish.

• Ok and then we get introduced to a general (??) who is immediately also on my list of faves in this show (I said I wouldn’t pick favourites. I SAID I WOULDN’T GET ATTACHED. GAH) because he is introduced with some great drumming music and while punching out two people at once, and also he has fantastic eyebrows and is maybe the only person on this entire show so far who has a Beard that isn’t an Evil Beard. Excellent. He seems very fierce and reminds me a lot of our hero’s surly teen bodyguard, and now I want them to fight.

• The prince who isn’t the Crown Prince (Yu, I have gathered his name is—see, I’ll get all the names gradually, I should have them all solidly by the end of ep3. Being able to keep track of a million names and complicated family trees is one of my Silmarillion powers) seems increasingly snakey every time I see him. This time it’s him praising the two guys the general beat up to his face, and then going off to scold them harshly and be really generally mean later. A harmless bit of two-faced-ness? Mayyyyyybe. But I’m guessing this is just the tip of the iceberg with this guy.

• He has really beautiful clothes, though. That red and gold. NICE.

• We finally come back to Chang Su—yeah, I know I was going to call him Lin Shu last episode because that was the first name I remembered, but everyone’s calling him Mei Chang Su so I’ve picked up on that now and will stick with that I guess… Or, actually, I’ll probably just start using all the names interchangeably and be both confusing and confused. It’s fine.

• Anyway, our mysterious man in white (side note: I adore the simplicity of his costume and how it makes him look even more washed out and ghostly when surrounded by the vibrant colors and detailed patterning of all the other men’s costumes) is hanging out at the Marquis’ house where he is reading and drinking tea in the garden, which just makes me like him more because that is how I, too, like to spend my time. His angry teen bodyguard is busy jumping from rooftop to rooftop and wire-flying through the air, as one does. The bodyguard’s name is Fei Liu and I adore him. More of this kid, please, show, and thanks.

• Chang Su sends Fei Liu out to play, and when Jing Rui wonders at that, Chang Su assures him it’s fine: Fei Liu has a good temper. Immediately I know something is up. Either that, or our entire premise that Chang Su is a brilliant strategist is a lie, because that teen murder machine is the angriest character in this entire show and you’d have to be an idiot to think otherwise.

• These boys, by the way—Jing Rui and … Something Jin? His happy sidekick— continue to be the nicest, most cheerful and pleasant duo. They’re in temperment like the Merry and Pippin of this show. Every time I see them in a scene with Chang Su I get intensely uncomfortable because I’m certain he doesn’t really see them as the friends they think they are to him.

• And then I get my wish and the general and Fei Liu have a mighty sky and roof battle, and it’s glorious. The cinematography is so good in this show, it really lets the wirework and choreography shine. Usually I prefer my combat more House of Flying Daggers over the top and less Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon over the top, but it’s working for me 100% here. The dancer in me digs it.

• “I will be sure to discipline him” -Yeah, sure you will, Chang Su. Suuuuure.

• The general seems suspicious, but that’s only to be expected when you are accosted by a strange, vicious, flying child in a garden.

• “There is nothing exceptional about me. Except for my stunning good looks.” -Chang Su, when questioned by the general. I might have added that last part.

• Fei Liu’s faceplant of shame against the wall made me laugh out loud. Gosh, I love this kid.

• And! It turns out Jing Rui’s brother with the sneaky face was eavesdropping for Prince Yu, and of course when he scuttles away to report his findings we cut to Chang Su looking immensely smug. Yup, he planned that whole fight out. This guy.

• Meanwhile, the Marquis is in the pocket of the Crown Prince, and reports to him the same news. But these guys go a step further and not only are they planning to win Chang Su over; they are planning that if they can’t win him, they will kill him! I’m just assuming Yu hasn’t thought that far ahead.

• “I took to the battlefield in my armor when I was seventeen years old. After witnessing bloody battles for seventeen years, all I have left is a heart of steel.” -Ni Huang, lying. But also continuing to be immensely quotable.

• Also her friend is a super-important intelligence agent? She has this fantastically dangerous attitude, so I can’t wait to see more of her. I love how competent these women are, and they aren’t presented as awesome warriors simply as window-dressing; they make their awesomeness seem earned and genuine and an core part of their characters, so well done show (or novel? I think this is an adaptation of a book? Either way, bravo, and bravo to the actresses for being so effortlessly cool).

• It’s another prince! Prince Jing, this time, and I love this guy immediately. He has a perpetually sad grumpy face but the more you see of his life the more it’s understandable. Guy has it rough. But he seems to be very close with Ni Huang, which is yet another point in his favor! His short, abrupt mannerisms are hilarious, when contrasted with his brothers’ constant waffling and wheedling and whining.

• Oh, and a thread I had questions about last episode gets pulled out a little more: Ni Huang’s friend in the intelligence force was one of those who investigated Lin Shu’s family all those years ago and who came to the conclusion that they were treasonous due to (what I am assuming was planted) evidence that Prince Jing thinks was bogus. He still hasn’t forgiven her, and she still hasn’t forgiven him for continuing to think well of the traitor who killed her husband. Supposedly. Furthermore, Ni Huang also still does not believe Lin Shu and his family were guilty, which hurts her friend’s feelings. Sheesh, I can’t wait for whenever the flashbacks start and we can ACTUALLY SEE what happened 12 years ago! Everyone’s lives seem to be divided into a before and after centered around that event, whether they realize it or not, but everyone also has different takes on what happened. The pay off had better be amazing, because the constant teasing is killing me.

• So now we come to what I thought was going to be the worst scene of the episode, where the Emperor makes poor Prince Jing just stand at attention, ignored, outside his palace and then legit forgets about him and we get all this backstory about how his father treats him harshly due to his sympathizing with Lin Shu’s family and inability to keep his mouth shut and I just felt so bad for this poor guy. But sidenote: the Emperor’s happy air-calligraphy as he admires the handwriting he was looking at when Prince Jing first arrived made me laugh. I really, really like whoever this actor is who’s playing the Emperor. I don’t think I’ve seen him before. But he gives what could easily be yet another trope-y Emperor role a lot of nuance.

• And then when Jing is finally allowed inside, the Crown Prince immediately starts haranguing him about how filthy he looks and why didn’t he go home to clean up first and I wanted to slap him. And then slimy Prince Yu cuts in to argue against the Crown Prince in an attempt to get Good Son Points from their Emperor Dad, and I wanted to slap him, too. My gosh, they’re a pair of five-year-olds.

• Also, Prince Jing continues to be very laconic, but I love that he is both quieter than his brothers AND plagued by the problem that he doesn’t know WHEN to shut up. Someone who speaks their mind like he does and who cares more about what is Right instead of what is Safe reeeeeally needs someone a bit more sneaky and pragmatic looking out for them. Someone like … CHANG SU? HMMMMMMM

• Jing Rui fiercely defending his buddy Chang Su from court politics, and then proudly saying his father is neutral in politics (oh poor boy) is so Good, it breaks my heart.

• And with that it’s finally the start of the tournament to find Ni Huang a husband! Fei Liu angrily fails at putting a ribbon in his hair in the background of a scene and I had to rewind to actually pay attention to what the boys were saying because it distracted me. Chang Su is still being the most polite little troll and is like ‘hey, how about we show up SUPER LATE’ all the while surely knowing that the two princes are desperate for a glimpse of him. He really wants to make a big entrance, ahahaha.

• Ni Huang’s baby brother is PRECIOUS. I ADORE HIM. “Princess Ni Huang probably doesn’t worry as much about this tournament as the young prince” PRECIOUS I SAY.

• I’m perplexed by how expressive Hu Ge can make his expressionless face be. He emotes a lot without emoting at all and it’s uncanny. There was a whole story on his face when he commented on how close Ni Huang and her brother are, and I REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHAT IT IS.

• And then this show briefly turns into a brilliant comedy where Prince Yu and the Crown Prince basically both race out of their private box to where Chang Su is and immediately start trying to win him over with a forcefulness that grows in awkwardness and eagerness until it’s basically a farce. It’s glorious. And once again I have to commend the acting in this scene, because what they’re saying isn’t even inherently funny; it’s the way they say it and the pacing and their expressions that made me rewatch this scene twice just so I could cackle over it again. Jing Rui increasingly offput by their posturing, Chang Su increasingly dying inside, Yu Jin completely oblivious. Hysterical. Also there’s a shot that makes me realize the reason why I like Chang Su’s face and specifically his eyes so much is because he has this weird resemblance to Buster Keaton, so there’s that.

• AND NOW WE COME TO THE WONDERFUL GRAND EMPRESS DOWAGER SCENE.

• JUST A NICE SCENE WITH A NICE OLD LADY AND HER DOTING GRANDKIDS.

• JUST A NICE HAPPY FAMILY SCENE. • YUP.

• NOTHING ELSE TO SAY HERE.

• … .

• Ok no, that’s all a lie, but I had been lulled into a false sense of security by the hilarity of the fighting princes, so I thought this was just going to be cute. And at first, it was. Well, after Lin Shu’s brief, unusually intense moment with Fei Liu where he orders him on exactly how he is to behave with the old lady, that is. “She’s the kindest grandmother in the world,” he says, his eyes drifting to middle distance, and I got a little choked up. But it’s ok, the moment is brief, just enough to color the next scene with poignancy, and I thought that was it. He gives his instruction, he goes in, everything seems fine (except for the fact that he seems legit scared to look his grandmother in the face, THIS POOR MAN), Yu Jin is a cheerful doof as usual, the Empress Dowager is DELIGHTFUL and her obsession with everyone’s marital status is charming (as is Jing Rui’s discomfiture, I like his hair-down look btw), Fei Liu makes an epic eyeroll and continues to climb in my esteem, and then—

• Dangit.

• Ok, so story time: I don’t know Chinese. Not at all. I am ¼ Chinese, actually, as well as ¼ Japanese, but I know more Japanese because I have never been in contact with my Chinese side of the family as much. Anyway, so I have always relied entirely on subtitles when watching Chinese media, but dramafever’s subtitles have seemed a little inconsistent to me. And I THINK they were in this scene. Because when Jing Rui introduced himself to his aged great-grandmother, she asked if he was “Xiao Rui,” according to the subtitles, and he said yes. Now, I figured something was up here because I could have sworn his name was Jing Rui? So I paused the episode for a quick detour to google, and apparently Xiao means small??? Which makes sense contextually and is super cute????? So this meant I was like ‘Aww, how sweet’ and then went back to the episode full of warm fuzzy feelings and a vague sense of accomplishment, hit play, and was armed with just enough Chinese knowledge to feel the moment when that kindly old woman calls Lin Shu “Xiao Shu” LIKE A FREAKING FREIGHT TRAIN OF PAIN. HIS EXPRESSION WAS MY EXPRESSION IN THAT MOMENT. AUGHHHHHHHHH

• AND THEN • IT JUST

• KEEPS

• GOING

• She comments on how thin and sickly he looks and I was like bye

• And then that horrid woman who I THINK is the Crown Prince’s mother (out of everyone it’s all the women in the court that I have the most trouble differentiating, which is weird because I should be able to tell them apart easily by their headdresses but idk) makes a joke about haha she said he’s thin and she called him small Su what a rascal that grandmother and meanwhile both Chang Su and I are over here dying inside and I’m like bYe

• And then she gives him a stupid snack that was his favorite when he was a kid because she can’t remember anything recent but by golly she’s going to remember what her grandkids like and that reminded me of my own great-grandmother who had this same memory problem due to a stroke but anyway he takes it and looks absolutely terrified by both the emotional battering he’s getting and also the possibility his cover will be blown, probably, and he wraps that thing up in his hands like it’s the most precious thing in the world and I was like bYE

• And then good ol’ grandma is like “Hey, Ni Huang, get over here and hold hands with your boyfriend” and I was like BYE

• And then when the Empress Dowager is getting distressed because the women are all telling her ‘Oh, that isn’t Shu, they aren’t getting married, she broke her engagement years ago’ Ni Huang is obviously hurting and tries to quietly slip away but HE GRABS Her HAND LIKE HE JUST CANT HELP HIMSLEF ANDHER FACE I WAS JUST AAAAAGHHHHHHHHFSLSLWHDKls:KdJk:SK;;;;;

• And my girl Ni Huang, she knows. She doesn’t know what she knows, but she KNOWS.

• “Xiao Shu, you’re leaving?” *DEAD*

• Also that music came back

• Dangit

• I don’t even know what else happened in the episode after that. I had to go back and rewatch it for this post because I was so shook. Ni Huang, bright thing that she is, corners Chang Su and asks him to walk with her, and she starts probing at him to try to figure out why he behaved so oddly and why she felt so strange with him (ok the last is more me speculating based on the actress’ body language and expressions more than anything in the actual text, but it’s definitely what’s going on ok). And they are the perfect couple they’re both so sharp and even their colors compliment each other and I’m very distressed.

• And then the episode ends with a child getting beaten up. The end.

I’m exhausted. On to episode 3.

[hysterialevi]

In the Smoke pt. 8 (Cobblebats)

From Thomas’ POV

GCPD

Navigating through the halls of the precinct, I hastily made my way to Carmine’s room as police officers stared at me with suspicious eyes, almost grimacing whenever I passed by. Apparently, rumors were starting to float around that I was working with the notorious crime-boss, and multiple news companies had even received a decent amount of evidence, but so far, nothing solid had reached the surface. Yet. Though, it was still concerning. After all, where were they finding this ‘evidence’ in the first place, and who was giving it to them? Right now, the only person who I could think of was Penguin--considering his vested interest in me--and there were no other notable enemies that I knew of who would’ve pulled off such a blatant move. I supposed only time would tell.

Arriving at Carmine’s room, the muffled, high-pitched sound of a heart monitor reached my ears, and once I opened the door, I saw the man himself lying in a bed, practically dead. His face had been decorated with multiple, dark bruises, and there was a rather prominent one circling his neck from when Penguin tried to strangle him. There were also several burns charring his skin due to the explosion, and a generous amount of bandages had been wrapped around him as if he would fall apart without them.

Slipping my hands into my pockets, I quietly approached my old friend and sat in a nearby chair, waiting for him to wake up as worry started to fill me. Carmine was as tough as nails--no one was questioning that--and it would take a hell lot of effort to bring him down, but I was still anxious about his condition. None of us were as young or brash as we used to be, and our physical strength only deteriorated with age. No matter how strong Carmine was, everyone had their limits, and I was afraid he had been pushed beyond his.

Suddenly, a soft grunt broke the silence of the room. I looked up.

“...Tommy?” Carmine mumbled, barely able to open his eyes. A weak chuckle escaped him. “Damn, you’ve got some clout, don’t you? My own wife can’t get in to seem me.”

I cut right to the chase. “How you doing, Carmine? I know Penguin roughed you up quite a bit.”

He scoffed. “Roughed me up? The son-of-a-bitch threw me off a goddamn building. Or, at least, he tried to. Batman showed up, you see. Somehow caught me before I could hit the ground. I guess it’s true, what they say about the vigilante. He really will save anyone.”

“He doesn’t save everyone,” I corrected, “but he won’t let anyone die either. If he can help it.”

“A noble goal, but ultimately useless. Enemies don’t get rid of themselves, you know. Just look at me: I’ll be out of this tin can by tomorrow. It’s gonna take more than handcuffs to keep me down.”

I smiled at that, but it quickly faded away. Carmine noticed my troubled look.

“Hey, everything all right, Tommy?”

I rubbed my temple out of exhaustion, letting out a breath. “Carmine, I think Bruce is catching on. To what we do.”

“Is that so?” He didn’t appear to be bothered. “ And what makes you say that?”

“Well, nothing specific, but he’s been...distant, lately. Like he’s trying to avoid me. Just the other day, on the anniversary of Martha’s death, Bruce disappeared before I even woke up. Normally, we always visit her together, but that day, I barely got to see him for more than a minute. Everything he does now is just...so unpredictable.”

Carmine laughed at that. “I wonder where he gets it from.” His chest heaved slightly with a short series of coughs. “I wouldn’t put too much thought into it. The boy probably just wants some space. He’s always been a lone wolf anyways.”

“But not like this.”

He sighed in a reminiscent tone. “We can wish against it as much as we want, but kids grow up, Tommy. Little boys become men. Their naivety turns into experience, and their ignorance turns into awareness. Bruce is gonna learn the truth eventually, whether we like it or not. He may not act like it, but I know, somewhere in that tuxedo, he understands the situation. You might as well explain it to him.”

I wasn’t so sure of the suggestion. “Maybe I should’ve told him sooner, but by this point, I’m not even certain how he’d react. To know that I’m still working with the man who killed his mother.”

“Bruce has been exposed to the world of politics more than a few times,” Carmine reassured. “He’ll understand that you can’t always opt out of something, no matter how nasty it is. Hell, I’m not even the biggest fan of Ham anymore, but we’re twenty years in deep. You can’t just dig your way out of two decades of history. That takes blood and time. Both of which we can’t afford right now.”

I twiddled mindlessly with the end of my mustache in thought. “...you’re right. You’re right. Perhaps it is time to tell him. I just don’t know how.”

“It won’t be easy, and I can’t even guarantee it’ll end well, but honesty can do wonders. Believe me.”

Before we could carry on the conversation any further, I received a phone call from Alfred, the gentle buzz of my phone emitting a soft, sharp noise. Standing up from my chair, I answered the call and walked over to the window, taking in the dark view of Gotham.

“Master Thomas?” The butler sounded panicked.

“I’m here, Alfred.”

“Oh, thank goodness. Sir, I’ve come across something rather...disturbing. I was just tidying up the manor, you see, and I was getting ready to clean your study, until I realized someone had gone through your stuff.”

I lowered my voice to a worried hush. “What do you mean ‘gone through?’ And who is this ‘someone?”

“Well, from what I can see, multiple of your files pertaining to Arkham Asylum and Wayne Enterprises have vanished. And on top of that...” Alfred paused for a moment, clearly hesitant to tell me more. “Sir, the entrance to the Batcave has been opened.”

My body stiffened at the news, and I could feel myself slightly shaking.

“What--opened? How? Did they mess with anything else down there?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know. On the bright side though, your gear seems unharmed, and the Batsuit appears to remain intact. Whoever broke into the cave was mostly interested in the computer, and just like before, they only accessed documents relating to Arkham. Who on Earth do you think could’ve done this?”

It didn’t take long for me to think of a suspect. “Penguin must be responsible. He has to be. Not too long ago, he was just harassing Carmine for info about that place, and once he was done with him, he mentioned having to deal with the Waynes somehow. This must’ve been what he had in mind.”

Alfred let out an unsettled sigh. “We must be careful, sir. If Penguin really was behind this incident, then your identity is at risk.”

“I know. Speaking of careful, has Bruce returned home yet?”

“No. And I’ve not received any calls or texts from him. Has he, by chance, contacted you?”

“No, not that I’m surprised.” I dragged a hand down my face. “All right. This is getting out of hand. I’ll try to get a hold of him, figure out where he is. In the meantime, I need you to dig deeper into the break-in, and see if we can’t pinpoint the invader.”

“Of course, sir. I will do everything I can.”

“Thanks, Al. I’ll talk to you later.”

Ending the call, I shoved the phone back into my pocket and turned to Carmine, who was eyeing me with curiosity.

“Everything okay, Tommy?”

I headed for the exit and grabbed the doorknob, holding on for a bit longer than I intended. 

“...yeah,” I lied. “Everything’s fine. Look, I gotta get going. I’ll see you some other time, Carmine.”

“Sure thing. Try not to lose your head out there.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Leaving the room, I replayed everything Alfred just told me in my head over and over again, my heart racing with paranoia as I sped my way out of the precinct. Not only had someone potentially discovered Batman’s identity and rummaged through my stuff, they had also stolen all of the records about Arkham Asylum, and the debate was literally just tomorrow. If I didn’t fix this on time, the following days were about to be one hell of a shit show, and I was far from prepared. 

From Bruce’s POV

CHILDREN OF ARKHAM HQ

Oz and I attentively watched the security camera footage from Arkham Asylum, which included Esther, Hill, Falcone, and my father. They were all cramped in some tiny, padded cell, and Esther had been bound to a hospital cot against her will while everyone else surrounded her. There was also an unknown man standing next to my father, holding a syringe of some blue liquid.

“Subject Nine, Esther Cobblepot,” my father announced, “you’ve been declared criminally insane...and committed to Arkham indefinitely as a ward of the state.

“Please--” she begged in a shaky voice. I almost didn’t recognize her. “--I’ll sell you the land. Please, don’t do this--”

Hill approached the cot, snobby as always. “Hrmph. You had your chance. You should have made the deal we offered you. Give her the drug.”

Esther started struggling. “Thomas, we--we’re friends. Our boys play together--”

My father joined in. “You were warned, Esther. You know I always get what I want.” He turned to the third man. “Commence the procedure. Give her a dose she won’t come back from.”

Esther didn’t say anything in response to that and simply sat there, her head hanging low with defeat as the man positioned the syringe’s needle above her neck. Why wasn’t he doing anything? Was he having second thoughts?

After a second of silence, he snapped back into business and all of his sympathy disappeared as he slowly started to puncture her skin with the needle, injecting the deranged chemical.

Barely a heartbeat later, Esther was already shrieking at the top of her lungs like a madwoman and wildly flailing around in the cot, her face twisted with insanity. The footage abruptly ended there, and the screen went dark, leaving us with our thoughts.

I glanced over at Oz, who was dead silent. 

“...Oz?” I put a hand on his shoulder. “...are you okay?”

Even though the footage had stopped, he continued glaring at the black screen and clenched his fists, blinking rapidly. His eyes looked glossy, and I could tell he was about to snap.

“...mum...” Oz whispered, voice trembling. Suddenly, he snatched the beer bottle resting on his desk and hurled it at the wall with an enraged shout, the glass violently shattering all over the floor. I flinched at the outburst, a little scared.

“I’m gonna kill all of them, Bruce,” Oz vowed, furiously slamming his fist into the wall. “I’m gonna kill every. Single. Fucking. One of them. They think they can just...just do that to my mum and--and...” 

He trailed off and slid down towards the floor, breaking into tears as he curled up and his face in his knees.

Leaving the desk, I carefully took a spot next to Oz, saying nothing. He didn’t want to hear words right now. He just needed company. 

Pulling Oz into a comforting hug, the man instantly wrapped his arms around me and buried himself into my embrace, shaking uncontrollably against me. This was the first time I’d ever seen Oz like this, save for when he used to be bullied at school, and I wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation. So I just did what my instincts said, and continued to hold him protectively, letting him do whatever he needed.

After a few minutes of constant sobbing, Oz finally brought his gaze up to me, eyes red and face wet. His brow was furrowed in anger, and he wouldn’t let go.

“We’re gonna make them pay, Bruce,” he growled. “We’re gonna take back our city.”

[amazingjackthefactfinder-blog]

Southern Cut Calamity

Here comes the wave of applause doused with honor and glory. I’d like to say I do this strictly for the sake of spreading quality journalism to the masses but I’d be lying if I did. A portion of me craves the complimentary spotlight that comes with releasing a mouthwatering segment. This news team had broken ground on a gold mine of success. Each press release has been an excavation of a cavern leading to paydirt. Yet a common motif of dread is hovering around each developing accomplishment. When will the bubble pop? A moral question is raised as well upon the idea of one media outlet having enough clout to control the ebb and flow of public opinion. Will the tides eventually turn? I have to accept that my career as a reporter is leaving a mark on society that is permanent as skidmarks in a pair of granny panties. Its Monday now and of course it seems mundane but that’s how most days begin and i can’t discount the potential of more life altering news. I play a tape of an exclusive interview I had with congressman Luther Strange of Alabama. I hear his southern drawl dribble out his cheeks with long pauses as if I were waiting for his words to coagulate and clot into sentences. He talks of his road to Capitol Hill and the sacrifices he has made for the people of his state while being unwavering on his principles. Typical government suit, always overzealous towards the topics of conversation his constituents could care less about while casually duck diving beneath the questions that have any meat on their bones. I stop the tape and rap my fingers against my temple. What to make of all this. There is so much expectation from our listeners, I can’t give them a poppycock edition of 60 minutes. They would burn me at the stake, and I’ve already announced information would be released about the Alabamian senator. I open my web browser and decide to catch the next flight back to Huntsville International Airport where I was greeted not 3 days prior by the men of Luther Strange’s entourage. Something didn’t sit right with me as I left our previous pow wow. Luther’s last name wasn’t the only thing strange about our discussion and at the moment I had no other stories occupying my dossier. At times a reporter must trust his gut and follow intuition when no obvious scandal rears its head. Hours passed and I was experiencing severe jet lag but I arrived nonetheless at our original meeting place, the Huntsville Museum of Art, to investigate as to why the senator would meet in such a public place rather than in his plush office. The curator of the museum was at the door speaking with a group of collectors. Upon this visit I was able to make out his face and recognized him as Sal Gumby from the cover of a recent issue of Artsy People of Alabama. He must know something. Seeking out important leads becomes a sixth sense after you’ve been working the city beats as long as I have. He’s up to something I’m sure of it. I walk past him and nod in his direction, he doesn’t seem to remember me. That was his first mistake. His second was his undoing as he said goodbye to his peers and walked down a a corridor in solitude. The thick shag carpet although tacky made for a near invisible pursuit as I snuck closer and closer to my source. A sharp left was made and I followed mere feet away. That’s when I pounced and hit Mr. Gumby with a jawdropping question in the form of a lead pipe. He was out cold. Actually as i take a closer look I may have cracked his skull with the blunt force trauma of metal and inquisition. “Fuck” I say under my breath, why must I be so cavalier in my opening statements. Yup, he’s bleeding out faster than slit pig. I quickly open my bag and start foraging for the mickey mouse band-aids I know are floating around my pack. I hear a low moan and I worry someone might be alerted. Again with the pipe, the band-aids are a lost cause, and down goes Gumby for the eternal count. Well there goes my only lead. Now I’m stuck in the deep south with the blood of a beloved Art Curator on my hands and it’s getting close to closing time. I’m sure Mrs. Gumby will be expecting him home any minute now. I grab the iPhone from Sal’s pocket and begin to type. “Hello to my beautiful wife. I wish I could make it home for dinner tonight but alas I would like a divorce and never want to see you, the family, or any of our friends again. Please do not look for me and close the museum for good with no hope of anyone else entering. This includes you my newly divorced ex-wife. (That means lock the doors from the outside.) I will mostly remember you for your ability to follow instructions and never question my whereabouts, how fondly I will recall your embodiment of those traits. Please do not let me down or else I will be very disappointed during the pursuit of my new hobby, swinging lead pipes wildly above my head with an apathy towards safety. I will now live out the rest of my life however short it may be doing what I love, and that is I repeat, throwing caution to the wind and violently flailing a lead pipe near my own cranium.” That should clear things up for the wife and give me a way to present any proceeding case to a court jury with a dash of “reasonable doubt”. As i place my trusty bludgeon in the cold lifeless grips of a seemingly innocent art enthusiast I find the keys to his office have fallen on the ground. It seems today is my lucky day after all. I stumble to Gumby’s office still shaken from the recent homicide, but that was expected. I reach out to unlock the door but it pushes open as if it wasn’t locked at all. What do you know, it wasn’t locked. I’m beginning to think murder was a bit over dramatic at this point when i could have simply walked in here alone with little to no supervision. Now that I think of it I don’t even remember seeing security anywhere on the premises. Well it’s the thought that counts they say. I never have been good with idioms and that phrase didn’t seem to fit the situation but it sounded nice to me anyway. I snap out of my internal monologue and my eyes open wide as I am rummaging through Gumby’s desk. Nestled between the countless paperclips and other office supplies, a tuna sandwich and an old edition of a sports illustrated swimsuit magazine I see now what I have been looking for all day. I see a photo of the senator. He is standing next to what looks like a Nazi, a high ranking member of the KKK and none other than actor Paul Reubens, who plays the beloved Pee Wee Herman. In the foreground the senator, Nazi, and Klansman are all smiling giving a thumbs up while burning a manila envelope labeled “List of Cures for Cancer”. In the background Paul Reubens is holding up the “Shocker” symbol spray painting various ethnic slurs on the side of an old folks home. Unsure as to why the art curator had this photo in his possession but happy my off kilter excursion was coming to a close I left the office in comforted silence. I’m chalking this up as a win in my book. I don’t have to go looking for a senator who before today nobody was going to give a shit about and I have dirt on that very same senator who will soon be notorious as the racist nazi sympathizer who hangs out with a surprisingly crass, racist in his own rite, actor Paul Reubens. I can see the headlines now “Shocking Photo Drives Alabama Senator to Resignation and Paul Reubens Fans to Tears: We Did Nazi that Coming”. And just like a revolving door this investigation opens and closes with ease. Unrelated to revolving doors, this investigation also lead to the mysterious disappearance of Art Aficionado Sal Gumby. Alabama mourns the loss of its one artsy fartsy person.

Legal Advisory: Documents of this nature have never been admissible in trial court therefore none of my previous writing shall condemn me to death row or any fine/jail time. Any and all implications of guilt leading to my arrest on the charges of murder, attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, trespassing, breaking and entering, defiling a tuna sandwich, and/or attempted kidnapping brought about by this non-fiction story are considered faulty in concept and the person/s bringing forth these allegations will be prosecuted under the full extent of the federal and state laws regarding slander.