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shurisneakers · 3 years

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harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time). big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights for this specific imagery

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado.

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right.

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch.

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation.

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

[email protected] just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song.

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries.

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons.

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him.

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough.

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second.

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?”

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red.

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles.

A small smirk makes its way onto your face.

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there.

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them.

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground.

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder.

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats.

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand.

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under.

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place. He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it.

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt.

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then.

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower.

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place.

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them.

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.”

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine.

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack.

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door.

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind.

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel.

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited.

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist.

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest.

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.”

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment.

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind.

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.”

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing.

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly.

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this.

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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keepingupwithfundies · 4 years

Text

BuB 911: Brandon's Book and Kelly Jo's New Look

Chad surprises Erin with a gift. Brandon has a book signing for his new children’s book. Josie, Katie and Carlin doll their mom up for a special anniversary date with their dad.

-T

Chad comes home with a bunch of gifts for Erin. Chad wanted to show some love to Erin during her pregnancy. The kids help her open the gifts, so they got her a foot bath and a bunch of spa stuff for Erin to treat herself. Carson is four and wants to help out. Whitney says when you have two kids or more, all your stuff just turns into family stuff. They set up the foot bath and all the kids start putting their feet in. Evie tries to put her whole body in. The family has a good time, even though Everly ends up soaking wet. Erin says she is getting into the home stretch and cannot wait to meet Holland. Erin ask Carson if he'll spoil his future wife with foot massages, and he says he'll get her a foot bath too- and then says it will be for himself.

Brandon and Michael have been working on a children's book for three years, and it is finally done and it is time for a book signing. Brandon says it is crazy to see the book in hard copy after all this time. Gil says Brandon is a behind the scenes person, so it is nerve wracking to put yourself out there. Brandon reads Chapter 5 to the kids at the signing, and he tries to keep them engaged. Judson says he is good at reading books to kids. Callie says the book signing went really good. Brandon is excited they got the book done and it is out and available now. Michael is proud of him and excited to see the turnout.

At Josie and Kelton's, Kelly Jo arrives. Kelly and Gil have a big date planned for their anniversary. Josie & Katie decided it would be fun to help get her ready. Kelly says they don't do fancy dates often, so this is a big deal. Josie is excited to try a different look on her mom, who is not used to change. Kelly asks her about her company, and Josie says she has. Josie says she found wedding hair was her passion so herself and a friend started a business. She has three weddings on Saturday and six in the next year. Josie said they called it Effortless Beauty since they want your day to be effortless. Katie and Carlin arrive. Katie will do her makeup, and Carlin has brought some options from the boutique. Her kids all agree that she has a style, and it is exciting to see her change it up. Josie does hair, Katie does makeup, and Carlin paints her mom's nails. Katie talks about spending a week with his family, and it was fun getting to see his family in their element. The trip was a big first for Katie, and Katie says she hopes the relationship will keep progressing. Katie says they have had a fight, but they're still getting to know each other. Josie finishes an updo that Kelly loves. Katie and Carlin decide to try false eyelashes- which they did not learn in cosmetology school. It takes a minute to figure out.

The girls have finished with her look, and it is time to pick a dress. First, she tries a classic back maxi. They all love it. The girls all agree she looks stunning. Carlin leaves to go back home to watch her siblings, and Gil arrives to pick up Kelly. Gil is excited to get to see her. They turn Gil around, and Kelly walks out to surprise him. Gil turns around, and he is impressed. Kelly says she can't remember dressing up for a date for a while. Gil says she looked hot and different from how she usually does. Kelly says seeing Gil all dressed up with roses made her feel like a teenager again. They head out, and Josie and Katie agree that they're the cutest.

They head out to a fancy restaurant and are impressed with the Christmas decor and live piano. Kelly says they should do this more often. Gil has a surprise for Kelly that he pulls out of his pocket. It is a necklace, and Kelly loves it. Kelly thinks he had help, and Gil agrees that he did have help. Kelly says the fact that he wanted to pick some special for her is enough for her. They start eating and enjoying the date. Kelly says the big secret is commitment and knowing that they are committed no matter what comes their way. They're still best friends. Gil agrees and adds that you have to feel safe with each other, be close with each other and be willing to sacrifice for your spouse.

#BuB Season 9 #Bringing up Bates #recap

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j-elaine-hyde · 4 years

Text

America’s Sweethearts

Eric Fisher / Reader 💘

You sat in your office, leaning back in your chair, feet up on your desk. You absentmindedly tapped a pen on your calendar as you stared off into space.

“Hi. Are you y/n?” His voice startled you, making you almost fall backwards out of your chair. You scrambled to get up and recover.

“Yea. I am. How can I help you?” You pretended to not know who he was, but you knew. There was no mistaking the 6’7” left tackle.

“I’m Eric Fisher... with the Chiefs. I think your office sent me an email about partnering with Q4 on some really cool campaigns.” He was staring at you, but trying not to.

“Yea! Hi! Nice to meet you! I’m so excited you’re here.” You smoothed our your skirt, as you stepped forward to shake his hand. As soon as he took your hand in his you couldn’t help but be amazed at how gigantic they were.

“Please, have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”

He lumbered across your office to sit on the sofa. He grabbed a textured throw pillow and clutched it over his lap. “Oh... some water would be great. Thank you.”

You sauntered to the mini fridge on the other side of your desk and bent down (at the waist) to grab a bottle of water before walking towards him with an extra hip swinging walk.

He opened the bottle, almost chugging the entire bottle in one swig. “Thanks.”

“No problem... you’re welcome. So let me pull the file on this project and we’ll get this meeting started.”

You had his complete attention. You were very aware that he was watching every move you made. You could feel his eyes on you. Again you bent at the waist to grab the file off of your desk, lifting one foot slightly as you reached. You heard him shift in his seat on the sofa.

Your assistant knocked on the door, poking her head in.

“Sorry to bother you... but there’s a Muffin Wagoner on the phone for you... it’s something about craft beer? He said to pull you out of any meeting because it was ‘all caps important.’ Or whatever.”

You rolled your eyes. It was a friend that was a blast from the past. “Take a message. After you make sure no one has died. Thanks!”

“Muffin?” He had a smirk on his face.

“Yea... long drunken story? Anyway... so have you had a chance to check out our socials and kind of get an idea of who we are and what we do?”

“Yea! I’m super stoked. I’m really honored you guys wanted to work with me.”

Your meeting continued for two hours. You bounced back and forth between professional and personal. He was gorgeous and he knew it. His smile was incredible and gave you butterflies.

Again your assistant knocked on the door, “Ummm y/n?”

You mouthed ‘sorry’ to Eric before turning around in your chair, “Whats up?”

She rushed in and handed you a note before awkwardly rushing back out and closing the door behind her.

You opened the folded piece of paper and read it,

“muffin says 911. ALL CAPS EMERGENCY. Look at your phone. Damn.”

With a look of confusion you held up one finger to Eric before walking to your desk and grabbing your phone. You were scrolling through notifications of missed calls and a dozen or so texts as you sat back down.

“Everything ok?” Eric asked.

You read through the messages. They started with an excited friend surprising you by flying into town and landing at the airport. To him renting a car. To him going to your house. And him waiting at your house and being glared at by the neighbors. Finally him going to get drinks at a local watering hole and consequently getting drunk.

You text him back quickly, while forwarding his number to your assistant and the address of the bar and asking her to go fetch him and take him back to your house.

“On it boss!” She hollered from outside the door.

You placed your phone on the table and smiled at Eric.

“Everything is fine. Sorry about that. A friend of mine flew into town to surprise me and ended up going and getting day drunk. Whitney is on her way to go get him and take him to my house to sleep it off.” You were slightly embarrassed.

“That’s hilarious.... sounds like your friends know how to have a good time.” He laughed his big deep booming laugh.

“That’s one thing we’re really good at....”

“I hate to leave, but if you need to go...” he was squashing the throw pillow in his monstrous grip.

“No... we’re good. Whitney went to get him.” Then it registered that he said he hated to leave. “Wait...”

“I know this might not be the most professional thing to do... but... you’re gorgeous... and really fun... I’d really like to get to know you better... would you go out with me sometime?”

Your mouth gaped open in disbelief, your brain scrambling to catch up, immediately closing when you finally realized that he just asked you out.

“Oh! Um... I...” you were practically stammering trying to say ‘Yes’ without completely losing your cool and jumping into his lap. “I’d love to.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised.

#eric fisher #romance #fanfic #fiction

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kentonramsey · 4 years

Text

“That Shit Is Special”: A Conversation on What It Means to Be Black, Femme, and Friends

After centuries of being forced into the margins, to be Black, femme, and powerful today is a revolutionary act. And it’s through the strength of our community that we’re not only able to fight the good fight side by side, but rest our bones together when that fight takes everything out of us. For me, this community takes many forms, but as I reflected on how I’d like to celebrate Black History Month, it was my friendships that came to the forefront. My connections and the spaces they thrive—our kitchens in Brooklyn, our backyards and stoops, our group chats—are not only my home away from, but an extension of the safest place I know. My Black femme friends have stood in the gap for me, professionally, personally, and through some pretty dumb-ass moments.

Take, for instance, the day I was working from home and saw a rat (not a mouse, a RAT) take his morning stroll through my living room. I didn’t call my landlord or 311 or 911; instead I hit up my group chat and asked who in the entire fuck was home at 1 p.m. on a Friday that could take me and my puppy in until my fiance got home. First they told me how shitty the situation was, which validated my feelings, and then they jumped into action to get me to safer ground. Cut to me and my dog Blanche rolling into Ericka Hart’s house with a bag full of random-ass dog toys and snacks and me in sweatpants and lingerie, because that’s what I had on when he who shall not be named came to visit. I ordered Domino’s pizza and sat on her couch watching telly and scrolling Insta as if I were home while Ericka worked on projects and watered her plants and I remember thinking, Damn, ain’t nobody like a Black femme.

These bonds run so deep for so many reasons; I don’t think there’s a world in which I could get through my life without them. I could yammer on all day about the hows and the whys, but let me tell you ‘bout my gooodddd friendssssss! Yaminah Mayo is a writer, model, and a force, and while we share Black twitter roundups and memes all day long, we also talk about issues like how much we should be charging brands for social promotion. Where else can you negotiate social content creation AND get a thank you in the form of a Whitney Houston gif?! I’ll tell you where: Black femme sibling circles (as I’ve been known to call them, too intimate to not be fam).

When I produced my first large-scale event on my own, I was in over my head. I was expected to pull whole-ass rabbits out of hats and I didn’t even have a lucky rabbit’s foot to hold onto. But in stepped Kiyanna Stewart, founder of Blk Mkt Vintage, along with her partner Jay. I told them what I needed to make this event a success, and of course, Black women came to my rescue with zero hesitation. Spoiler alert: That event was the best and would have been an entire mess had it not been for Kiy and Jay.

Last week, I invited Ericka, Yaminah, and Kiyanna to join me for a photoshoot and discussion about Black femme friendship. We met in a Black-owned space, put on clothing by Black designers, and got our faces beat by a Black makeup artist (hi Tara Lauren!) Below, the photos and conversation that followed.

Crystal: Okay, so we all work in very different fields—entertainment, business, fashion, academia—and we all know that many of these spaces are very white, and very patriarchal, so why is it so important to have a Black femme sibling circle that you can call on?

Yaminah: It’s so important because sometimes Black men and masculine people just don’t have the range! It’s like they think they have a monopoly on oppression. Also, it’s important to know that what you’re going through is valid, like, Okay, yes, that’s totally racist! Yes, that’s totally sexist! No, you’re not being dramatic. It’s good to be affirmed. And whenever I win, I get to share that with y’all what I did, so you all can win too! We use our friendship for business practices, relationship advice, food, style…

Crystal: Yes! I mean, I can hit y’all up for anything. When I need to know if these shoes go with this bag, I can hit y’all up. When there’s a sample sale, I pretty much know everyone’s sizes at this point and can send pictures or just by like, “Bihhhhh! You need these silver overalls, I can’t take a picture but they’re $40. I’m getting em for you!” Or like, me and Kiy were going to a Roaring ’20s-themed party and she hit me up before like, “Chileee I been too busy to buy something, what you got for me?” And of course I was like, “Girl, come get this vintage Dior robe!” So for me, there is just no other connection that resembles and feeds my soul in the way these friendships do.

Kiyanna: Yes! There is something in particular about being affirmed and celebrated by people who share your experience. This (points to the group) is reliable, I can rely on these folks for their opinions. You’ve been through the same or you will be going through the same and that’s what makes these relationships unique.

Ericka: It’s the familiarity, too. Like, Yaminah, you are an honorary queer person,* and as queer femmes, It’s nice to be able to talk about my relationship without having to explain it, or to talk about cultural things like, “No, I don’t want to see that movie, because it’s super straight, I want to see a film with queer influence!” So it’s great to be able to bounce those things off of people who not only look like me, but also navigate the world in similar ways that I do. Also, I don’t have to say much! Like in the group chat when we’re being messy, I can drop a name or situation and y’all will be like, “Yeah, no, we don’t fuck with that either!” and I’m like, Okay, so I’m not losing my mind! It’s just so important to be validated by your people.

(*Ed. note: Kiyanna, Erica and myself are queer and Yaminah is not, but she is one of the bombest allies.)

Crystal: I think there is an added layer of magic with this group in particular, where I just feel so blessed—and I’ve told y’all I’m just so emotional these days so I might cry—but it’s just such a blessing to be able to look to people and not just exchange ideas but also actively think: How can I support the things that you do? How can I pay you and also get you paid for the services and talents that you share, in a world in which we are rarely adequately paid for all the magic that we create on this earth?

Like, I don’t know very many groups who can be like, “Oh, you need a venue? I have a friend who owns their own beautiful-ass vintage shop!” Or like, “Okay, I don’t know shit about academia and I still have questions around sexual education, let me hit up Ericka who is a whole-ass professor at an Ivy league!” Like, that shit is special. Andy Barnard said on The Office: “I wish there was a way to know we were in the good old days before we left them,” and whewwww that just hit so close to home for me, as I sit and look at us at this very moment. I know I will be talking to my babies about their aunties and the way you all have shaped the trajectory of my life. We will look back at pictures from this shoot and call them the good old days and maybe these pictures will live on in a place like Blk Mkt Vintage and someone else will be able to see how dope Black femmes were!

Ericka: And this shoot is so special. Look at the people that are working with us on this shoot! There’s a Black femme photographer and a Black femme stylist and a Black makeup artist and I’m taking pictures without even looking at myself in the mirror because I trust Black femmes. On any other shoot I’d be in the bathroom trying to fix things, but y’all are like, “You like fire!” So I get excited and I’m just like, Okay let’s do this, cause the truth is, some of these people will have you out here looking a mess—shades all wrong, angles all fucked up—but I’ve had nothing but trust today.

Kiyanna: I’m appreciative to be a part of this shoot—it also feels like an extra affirmation that it’s taking place here in the store. When Jay and I were thinking about opening this space, we knew it would be so much more than just a place where transactions took place. We wanted to make a space where community could be found and a place where you don’t have to look far to see yourself.

On this day, no matter where I turned or who I was talking to, I saw myself. And for that I will always be grateful. To know these people is to know that I have an army at the ready (and bail money, if ever needed) and an extra closet full of fly shit. To know them is to be surrounded by a bunch of fools who make me laugh until my sides hurt. To know them is to love them, and it’s my greatest honor to call them my people.

Big thank you to Ericka, Kiy, and Yaminah for dropping everything to shoot this editorial. Y’all are more than I knew I could have in a friendship and the pinnacle of what it means to have a sibling circle.

11 PHOTOS click for more

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Photographer: Makeda Sandford Styling Assistant: Share C Koech Hair & Makeup Artist: Tara Lauren Location: Black Market Vintage

The post “That Shit Is Special”: A Conversation on What It Means to Be Black, Femme, and Friends appeared first on Man Repeller.

“That Shit Is Special”: A Conversation on What It Means to Be Black, Femme, and Friends published first on https://normaltimepiecesshop.tumblr.com/ “That Shit Is Special”: A Conversation on What It Means to Be Black, Femme, and Friends published first on https://mariakistler.tumblr.com/

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sunshinesanggyun · 7 years

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~Get to know me tag~

Rules: Answer 30 questions and then tag 20 blogs you would like to know better.

Tagged by @thatweirdwinchester @ararioxero and @killmehobi

1. Nickname: Bella/Bellz

2. Gender: Female

3. Star Sign: Libra

4. Height: 5'5

5. Time: 7:58

6. Birthday: October 10th

7. Favorite Band[s]: Topp Dogg, Streetlight Manifesto

8. Favorite Solo Artist: Can’t choose just one sorry. Kendrick Lamar, Childish Gambino and Frank Ocean

9. Song Stuck In Head: Sunshine - Topp Dogg

10. Last Movie Watched: Saw 4. I’ve been marathoning it with my best friend

11. Last Show Watched: Code Geass

12. When Did I Create My Blog: May 12th

13. What Do I Post: Topp Dogg♡ 14. Last Thing I Googled: “Aura”....it’s a long story which ended with me and my best friend watching a video of how to be psychics lmfao

15. Do You Have Any Other Blogs: I recently made another one but I never use it

16. Do You Get Asks: Yeah

17. Why’d You Choose Your URL: Because I love my TD boys

18. Following: 71

19. Followers: 382

20. Favorite Color: Yellow

21. Average Hours Of Sleep: 7

22. Lucky Number: 12

23. Instruments: I used to play guitar but I kinda sucked, I really want to learn how to play piano because I have really long fingers

24. What Am I Wearing: brown leggings, a Childish Gambino shirt with the Because the Internet album cover on it, and socks with a raccoon eating a donut on them (socks are an important part of my outfit)

25. How Many Blankets I Sleep With: one

26. Dream Job: Wildlife Conservationist

27. Dream Trip: Japan/Europe

28. Favorite Food: Sushi

29. Nationality: American

30. Favorite Song[s] Right Now: 911/Mr. Lonely - Tyler the Creator, Feeling Whitney - Post Malone, Jelly - Hotshot

Since I’ve done a post very similar to this and a lot of people I follow have already done this, I’m not gonna tag anyone. If you want to do it though feel free to tag me, I always love learning about my followers :)

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savetopnow · 6 years

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2018-03-08 06 CELEBRITY now

CELEBRITY

Alexa Chung and Alexander Skarsgård Reunite After Their Summer Split

This Is Your Marvel's Jessica Jones Refresher Ahead of Season 2

The 7 Craziest Things Said by The Real Housewives of Potomac in the Season 3 Trailer

Jennifer Lopez's Favorite Leggings: How to Get Your Hands on Them

Gary Oldman's Son Gulliver Fiercely Defends His Father After Resurfaced Domestic Abuse Allegations

Hollywood Life

Younes Sends Sweet Message To ‘Beautiful’ Kourtney K. After Their Odd Unfollowing Spree

Tommy Lee’s Fiancée Slams Son Brandon Lee — ‘Violence Is Never The Answer’

Chip & Joanna Gaines Reveal The Sex Of Baby #5 In Adorable Video That’ll Melt Your Heart

Cecil The Lion Suffered 12 Hours Before Death, Book Reveals, As Trump OKs Big Game Trophy Hunting

Usher Spotted Out With ‘L&HH’ Star Hours After Filing For Divorce From Wife Grace Miguel

Media Take Out

Desiigner Caught Taking A PIZZ On Someone’s House!! (PICS)

Comedian Sinbad Appears To Be SNITCHING On Russell Simmons . . . Says ‘MORE WOMEN’ Are Gonna Come Out With RAPE Claims!!!

Shirley Strawberry From Teh STEVE HARVEY RADIO SHOW . . . Is Being Sued . . . For Being a ‘DEADBEAT’!!

People

Kim Kardashian West 'Took One for the Team' and Left Oscars Party for Early Morning Carpool

Superstore’s Lauren Ash Says Her Hot Cop Costume Got Her 'the Most Followers She’s Ever Gained in a Day'

Woman Allegedly Plotted to Murder Boyfriend with Samurai Sword After Finding Tinder on His Phone

Val Chmerkovskiy Gets 'Jealous' Watching Girlfriend Jenna Johnson with Other Dance Partners

Utah Couple Learns Their 3 Children Could Die by Age 11 From Rare Disease

Perez Hilton

Younes Bendjima Squashes Kourtney Kardashian Split Rumors With 'Beautiful' Shout-Out!

Trump Called Elephant Trophy Hunting A 'Horror Show' — But Now He's Lifting The Ban Anyway!

Silicon Valley Team Says T.J. Miller's Messy Exit Was 'A Long Time Coming'!

Fall In Love With The New Bachelorette — 5 Fast Facts About Becca Kufrin!

Jimmy Kimmel Is Giving Bachelor Arie Luyendyk Jr. A Hard Time Over His Quick Engagement To Lauren Burnham — WATCH!

Popsugar

Elizabeth Taylor's Unexpected Death Still Hits Hard Nearly 7 Years Later

17 Times Salma Hayek and Penélope Cruz Showed Us All What True Friendship Looks Like

What Will Camilla's Title Be When Prince Charles Takes the Throne?

Meghan Markle Had a Secret Bridal Shower in the English Countryside

7 Infamous Cults That Are Creepy as F*ck

Reddit Entertainment

What YouTube Pranksters Could Learn From ‘Windy City Heat’

Elizabeth Banks And James Gunn Reunite For Horror Pic

Don Johnson Cast In Verdi’s Historical Heist Drama ‘Vault’

Gary Oldman's Son Pens Open Letter Defending Father From Domestic Abuse Claims

'I deeply regret my actions:' Fyre Fest promoter Billy McFarland pleads guilty to fraud

TMZ

Pharrell Williams Gets the 'Girl,' Trademarked

Chrissy Teigen's Beloved Dog Puddy Dies

Tommy Lee 911 Call, Fiancee Freaked Out & Says Son Has Guns

Team USA's Jermaine Jones Ditching MLS to Retire in Europe, Then Coach!

Tommy Lee's Son Allegedly Lost Control and Knocked Him Out Cold, Fiancee Feared He was Dead

The Shade Room

Officer Who Arrested Meek Mill Is Listed On Philadelphia District Attorney’s List Of Corrupt Cops

Jhené Aiko Is Being Sued By A Former Tour Manager For Over $50K—But There’s A Plot Twist!

Just Take All My Coins Now! Rihanna Reportedly Launching A Lingerie Line

Bobby Brown Says Whitney Houston Died From A Broken Heart, Wants Death Certifcate Changed

Mom Of Two Set Up And Killed For Her Refund Check By Co-Worker

Us Weekly

Amanda Seyfried Is Proof That ’70s Curls Are Back

Eva Longoria Gets Baby Advice From These ‘Desperate Housewives' Costars

Too Cute! Elle Fanning Just Wore a Bow as a Top

Heather Locklear Back in Treatment After Arrest

This Is Why Becca Kufrin Will Be the Perfect Bachelorette

#celebrity

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nerdy-frog98 · 3 days

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So. Should I watch ‘9-1-1 Lone Star’ now, or…?

I’ve heard very little about it, so I genuinely have no idea whether it’s worth watching. Thoughts?

#911 abc #911 #watch 911 with whitney #911 lone star #911 ls #buddie #tarlos

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tazco · 3 years

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I have a few questions .......... i know that COVID is still ongoing and people need to be safe, But i have being watching a lot of series since i have home (911 lone star - 911 - Station 19 - Grey's Anatomy - FBI - Law & Order SVU) Among others, And they not really social distancing like eastenders is, Is COVID worse in the UK that they have to social distance?

What the hell is up with Callum grandmother calling Ben ‘Whitney’🤬😡?????? I don't like that old lady what exactly is her purpose on the show to just insult people and be homophobic?????????????

The last time i checked Phil isn't exactly father of the day ,month ,year or decade he really needs to get over himself.

#ballum #ben mitchell #callum highway #eastenders

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taran42181 · 4 years

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Losing Sean to addiction and illness...one year ago......

I’m not sure why exactly I’m writing this. Maybe because there’s not a human on this earth, I can talk to the way I can to a blank page. It’s too many layers of things and just confusing to be honest. I’m writing this with limited editing. For an English major it’s not going to be my best work, but the only way for me to get my thoughts out raw and unfiltered is to not care about the silly nuances of grammar. Perhaps that is why I chose to call this blog “Ramblings” because essentially that is what it will be.

I’m sitting here alone, for the first time in weeks. I’m grateful for the chance to quarantine safely in my home with books, tv, food, water, heat, etc. I’m grateful for the extra family time and extra sleep. However, I need my me time. I can only take so much interaction before I need to retreat for a while.

So what is on my mind..what is on my mind..is that I’m missing my brother. Actually, I’m missing my childhood family as I once knew it. Two gone, One sick and one in another state. Such is life. I’m reminiscent. I cringe typing this, because so many people have it so much worse. So many people have so many more struggles and why should anyone give a damn about what I’m missing? We all have stuff do deal with in life. I feel, I post too much as it is, about my life on social media..but I’ll never stop acknowledging Sean or my dad. I’ll just keep the details of my feelings to this blog. I can write, which I love to do, without being a “Debbie Downer,” Sorry.

**********************************************************************************

Dear Sean, You are on my mind so much. I got to text with Paul and Eric out in Colorado and damnit, I’m thankful for them. I’m thankful for Rich, too. I’m glad you had friends that loved you for you. Friends that chose you as family. It means the world to me.

I’m thinking of you Sean, because this time last year, you were dying. You were laying in a bed at CMC, struggling to breath. I’m scared of the coronavirus and devastated and anxious for the patients laying in ccu beds on vents and their helpless families. I watched what irreversible ARDS can do to someone and its downright terrifying. It’s ironic that I’m hearing what it does, when just a year ago, I was watching it happen to you.

I tried for years to shield people from your less redeeming qualities; the severity of your mental illness and addiction. It’s so easy for people to judge without knowing the person behind it all. Some people are unforgiving and I wanted to protect you from them. I didn’t see things through rose colored filters. I was tough on you a lot. I was embarrassed and sometimes even afraid for you. I prayed you wouldn’t hurt or kill yourself or accidentally hurt someone else when you were using.

You started out in life as the funniest, happiest little guy I ever knew. You were my best, and for several years, only friend. You never minded hitting record on the cassette player and being my audience when I wanted to sing Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston songs. We walked home from school together every day, and we started neighborhood clubs together. You let me boss you around and played every game I ever asked. You always thought of me when you did things and included me. We both had trouble finding our place in the world at times, but had each other.

It broke my heart when you were 16 and I was 18, and I started noticing you had been acting weird. I had never lived with an addict, and I think it took all of us a little longer than some, to notice the signs. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from a bad choice. You made a choice, and honestly I know it was for the sake of peer acceptance, to try heroin. I’ll never forget the day I confronted you and made you call mom at work and tell her you had been using heroin and couldn’t stop. In hindsight that was a terrible decision on my part towards mom.

It would take days, months even, if I were to write about the years between this day in 1999 and April 1, 2019- the day you died. So, I won’t recount all of it. In short, you suffered all those years. We suffered as a family. We discovered you had many physical health issues, some irreparable. We discovered you had more severe mental health issues than the current mental health system was prepared for, and we saw your addiction spiral to an honestly impressive tolerance. I’ve yet to see anyone else compare. I’m not saying that as a good thing, just the reality. You were hurting, you hurt others and it was a vicious cycle. I won’t sugar coat it. You kept your distance and I tried to protect what I could of your reputation when people asked about you. The truth is your mental illness led you to some dark places and with that, you lost many friends and acquaintances. I know some people never knew you enough to form an opinion, other than a bad one. For their lack of insight into your issues, I don’t hold anything against them. I understand why people would judge harshly and detach from someone who was self destructing. However, I’m so grateful for the people that saw past the bad and remembered that there was a kind, compassionate guy in you somewhere. I’m thankful for the relatives that would ask about you, remember you at holidays and not take your isolation personal. They forgave your mistakes. They loved you and that never waivered. I hope you know that. I know you felt shame, Sean. You felt guilty and hated. I also know you just wanted to be accepted. It saddens me that some family chose to not come out here when you died. They chose to NOT be here for mom when you died. They chose to not honor you as a human being. This doesn’t refer to all of them. Only a couple. Some didn’t acknowledge your death at all! I understand and I know you do too. It’s hard with families and jobs and I hold no ill will. It’s hard, especially coming from out of state. Some of themy expressed their condolences and I was grateful. Some though, judged you and didn’t like what you had become. Maybe you had done or said things to them, and weren’t on good terms with them. Maybe because you didn’t bother to visit them or engage in their lives. Ha! If they only know what your life had become. Alas though, your death wasn’t important to them. Mom’s loss wasn’t significant. They couldn’t be inconvenienced to be here one day for mom, unless it fit their schedule. You didn’t have cancer, you didn’t commit suicide. I’m sure they were surprised it took this long. It makes me sad, but it’s their fears and ignorance that kept them away. I forgive and move on. Guess what though? your true friends and family showed up. I saw Mike and Lem and some other of your childhood friends. Eric, Paul and Rich. My friends from CMC and so many others. I’m forever grateful for each and every person who came to your service or called. Sean, the bottom line is that your life was complicated. My feelings on everything are complicated. ((sigh))).

So, having touched on all the negative stuff, I want to tell you how much you meant to me and still do. I know you knew. I told you all the time I loved you and you told me. We had so much fun together. I wish more of the world saw the Sean that I did. You were kind, funny and loving. You only showed yourself at your best to your nieces and nephews. Somehow despite it all, you managed to be a positive in their lives. It breaks my heart how much the kids miss you, especially your buddy James. When you were doing well, you were amazing. Those times in between, when I know you tried harder than anyone has tried at anything, I cherished. You had so many positive qualities. I’ve still yet to meet someone that compares to your intelligence and quick wit. You are one of a the best writers I know and could play the best pranks.

Watching you die was the hardest things I’ve ever experienced. Even harder than watching dad die. Ryan and I have talked about the comfort we find in knowing you and dad are together. Maybe dad had to die first, to be there to bring you home.

******************************************************************************

For those of you still reading that don’t know what happened when Sean died.. I’ll tell you. A quick side story though... My mother has a neuroendocrine malignancy and parkinsonism. A tiring and frustrating combination of mysterious symptoms. Anyway, much of the last few years she has been in and out of the hospital. Thankfully, we are closer to a more accurate diagnosis and treatments, but her quality of life has diminished. She was a healthy, vibrant healthcare administrator and an active board member for various community organizations in Denver. Approximately 7 years ago, was the beginning of her decline. She still lives life to the fullest though, does not look for help or sympathy, and does her best each day. She amazes me and on her best days you wouldn’t know anything was wrong!

Anyway, about two weeks before Sean died, she had a bad episode in the middle of the night. Paramedics took her to the hospital. It was awful. The next morning, I called Sean to check on him. No answer. A couple of hours later, my mom now stable at the hospital, asked me if I’d talked to him. I told her I’d keep trying. I called and called. I went over to Sean’s apartment and although I had a key, I had to break the chain lock. When I got to his room, he was in bed. He had vomit all over him and was unresponsive. I called 911 and luckily was able to get him to wake up by screaming directly into his hear. When he came to, he was lethargic and disoriented. I wasn’t able to ascertain exactly what he had taken. My only regret that day is that I didn’t go to the hospital with him. Sean’s had many overdoses. I was frustrated and relieved he woke up and thought this would be another one of his hospital admissions. My mom and Ryan have resuscitated him in the past. He overdosed and was intubated several times over the years, before the days of getting Narcan at home. (And yes, he did get lots of “tough” love too. He was in treatment many, many, many times) Sometimes treatment was hard to get because of his co-existing mental and physical issues, but my angel of a mother never gave up on him. She was scammed out of money by a “recovery coach” and hit a lot of roadblocks through the years, but she always tried to keep him alive. She never gave up hope for him. She has been judged for this, but you find out what you would do when your in situations. Anyway, enough sidetracking.

Sean was taken from his room with paramedics and police to the hospital. I fully believed he would be ok. I had to work that evening and called the hospital to check on him. I wasn’t able to find out where he was or what was happening. My mom found out he had gone into respiratory distress and had been intubated. Sean, having been intubated previously on several occasions, had repeatedly told my mom he did not want vented ever again. I’m glad we weren’t there for them to ask us, because his honest feeling was that he didn’t want to be saved but we didn’t have a written dnr and we didn’t want to lose him. In any case, he was intubated and admitted. I went to see him the next day and when I spoke quietly to him, but he woke up and started trying to talk over the vent. I told him I loved him but I was leaving because he needed to rest. I reminded the staff of his high tolerance for sedatives and told them I’d try to stay away as to not agitate him. The nurse was very sweet and understanding.

The next few days I was there in between kids activities, school and work. I tried to visit him and my mom as much as I could. Fast forward, each day Sean got sicker and sicker. I left my phone in my car one day to get coffee at wawa and when I came back I saw the hospital had called. Sean had coded, but they got him back. I went over to the hospital. I took my mom from her hospital room to ICU to see him. They did a TEE but it was negative. They told me he was septic. He had a very bad infection in his lungs. He had what you may be hearing about now on the news, called ARDS. He was so hot that I could have literally cooked breakfast on his skin. He was on a cocktail of antibiotics. Sean had pre-existing lung issues and the night before I found him, Sean had taken drugs. Which ones and what kind, I’m not sure of exactly. He had sedated himself so much, that he went to bed, drank something in his sleep (he had a bottle of orange juice with him) and he aspirated. Had he not taken too much of whatever he did that night, he wouldn’t have been lethargic and under the influence. Had he not brought orange juice to bed, he wouldn’t have aspirated. Laying in bed for a day, after choking, and his breathing diminished, made for him too become too sick to recover.

He continued to deteriorate until they could not longer keep him vented. (side tracking again, if your family member is intubated for any reason I strongly suggest you research what you can and know your rights and options). It came to a point where we had to make a decision. Sean was “out of it’ for most of the time, but he would wake up at times. It was agony because we knew he didn’t want to be vented but he needed it to live. The Palliative care doctor decided we could slowly wean him off things that made his judgement cloudy. Not immediately, but when and if, he was coherent enough, she would talk with him directly. We ask him and he communicated with head nods and pointing. He even tried writing and then he tried and pointed at letters on a keyboard. The day came around and Ryan, mom, me and the Palliative care doctor spoke with Sean. His intensivist told us his lungs would “never recover.” If he were to be take off the vent, the only way he could live was to have a permanent trach. My mom having health issues, and at the time, still a patient herself, wouldn’t be able to care for him full time. He would be likely left to live out years and years, in a nursing home on a trach. If he was healthier and this was reversible for him, it would've been a no brainer. Unfortunately, he had a lot stacked against him. The doctor explained to Sean what happens if we take the tube out. He kept motioning for us to take it out. She explained without the trach he would stop breathing eventually. He indicated in several ways, he clearly understood. For Sean, living each day was a struggle. I think even if he had a better chance at recovery, he still wouldn’t have wanted it. She asked him if that's what he wanted several times and each time, he indicated yes. I had to leave the room to not lose it and break down. So it took a while but they slowly weaned him off of the vent. He asked for Mountain Dew, his favorite. He couldn’t swallow or drink so we put the smallest amount on a one of those little mouth sponges, and gave him a taste. He coughed and coughed, but smiled. He wanted his music, so we played his favorites for him. Frank Turner, Billy Brag, mainly. (much of the music he introduced me too is now stuff I listen to regularly) The three of us spent the next several days with Sean, watching him die. We told him stories, he listened. He tried to laugh. He cried. We cried. He slowly and painfully left the world after three or four days. I can’t even remember how long it took. I told him I would get a tattoo to match one of his. He pointed to one on his arm, that he wanted me to get. The day after his death, I got the tattoo. His breathing became more difficult. His skin burned and burned and even with cooling packs, they couldn’t help him. It devastated me to see him suffering at the end of his life, even though the nurses tried their best to keep him comfortable. Each time he had what I now know is called “Cheyne-stokes” respirations, we would think the time was near, but he kept on. We told him it was ok to go and that dad was waiting. My angel mother prayed over him, with him. She sang to him and I’m damn positive she delivered him to God herself and helped him transition peacefully between the two worlds. I don’t know where she got the strength. She never left his side until the last day. I wasn’t as strong. I couldn’t handle hearing his breath sounds without crying. I’m glad my mom and Ryan could, but I know it wasn’t easy. So, if you’re still reading this long story. wow. and thank you . I feel better for having wrote it out. It’s so much to talk about. I have some really great friends that let me vent to them during it all and have been there for me still. More angels that walk this Earth. <3

I know this is jumbled and all over the place. Half talking to Sean, half talking to whomever is reading. I apologize, but it has been cathartic for me to get it out.

Sean, in the end, I love you. Your life mattered. You had many positive impacts on people. You are missed. We are grateful for having had you for 35 years and I won’t ever forget you!!

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celebritylive · 4 years

Link

Nick Gordon, the ex-boyfriend of Bobbi Kristina Brown, has died. He was 30.

Gordon’s brother, Jack Walker Jr., confirms to PEOPLE that Gordon died Wednesday in Florida following a drug overdose.

“We are devastated by the loss of my beautiful brother,” Walker Jr. tells PEOPLE in a statement. “He leaves a void in the hearts of my family and his friends. Nick’s battle in life was not an easy one. I will be forever grateful that my God afforded a small moment at the very end of Nick’s life, and I was able to hold his hand as he journeyed on.”

Sources told The Daily Mail that Gordon had suffered a number of heart attacks on New Year’s Day and was rushed to the Intensive Care Unit at Altamonte Springs Hospital, where he eventually died.

Walker Jr. expressed his heartbreak on Facebook shortly after the devastating news, first writing “GOD WHY I DID I HAVE TO LOSE MY BROTHER ON NEW YEARS” and “All I can do is cry.”

He went on in a separate post: “I love you so much big brother I hope you heard me talking to you at your bedside you are with me and I can feel it I love you I love you I love you watch over me and your nieces.”

“S— wasn’t suppose to go like this … you were best friend and I never in a million years thought I’d be writing this for my ACE I was there through every step we all love you no matter what and we’ll all stay strong for you , New Years didn’t have to start like this and you just told me you HAD to see me for New Years but I’m blessed I got to talk to you last night you will forever be my best friend nobody will ever take your place.”

RELATED: Nick Gordon Found Liable for Bobbi Kristina’s Death, Ordered to Pay $36 Million to Her Estate

Gordon’s sudden death comes three years after he was found liable in the wrongful death case of Whitney Houston‘s daughter, Brown.

The 22-year-old was found unconscious and unresponsive with drugs in her system in the bathtub of the Georgia townhouse she shared with Gordon in early 2015.

As a result of the case decision, Gordon was ordered by a judge to pay $36 million to her estate.

RELATED: Nick Gordon Will Not Be Charged in Domestic Violence Case After Girlfriend Denies Incident

In recent years, Gordon found himself entangled in legal drama after his girlfriend Laura Leal accused him of a physical altercation.

According to a March 2018 arrest report obtained by PEOPLE, Leal had told authorities that her boyfriend struck her in the face while she was driving, adding that he also pulled her hair and “stated to her that he should make her wreck the vehicle.”

In April 2018, however, Leal, under oath, “denied being struck or touched against her will” by Gordon in statements written in a letter to the judge, according to a statement from the Seminole County state attorney, first obtained by The Blast.

RELATED: Nick Gordon Arrested for Second Time in 2 Weeks for Seeing Girlfriend Despite No-Contact Order

Due to those statements contradicting her original ones, prosecutors decided not to go through with a trial following the review of body camera footage, the 911 audio, sworn statements and jail call recordings, and announced that Gordon would not be charged.

“With no independent witnesses to the incident, prosecutors do not have a good faith basis on which to proceed to trial,” prosecutors said in the statement.

Gordon was previously arrested in June 2017 on domestic battery and false imprisonment charges after Leal filed a police report alleging her boyfriend had beaten her and held her in her home. The charges were dropped in August of that year.

Leal was Gordon’s latest high-profile romance since the passing of Brown.

from PEOPLE.com https://ift.tt/2FcRZTn

#Celebrity

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newsbiteswithjennysok · 5 years

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Aug 13, 2019

1. Riot police and protesters clashed at Hong Kong's international airport on Tuesday after flights were disrupted for a second day as the political crisis in the former British colony deepened. Thousands of black-clad protesters jammed the terminal with used luggage carts to barricade entrances and could be heard chanting, singing and waving banners, with some adorning eye patches in solidarity with a woman injured in earlier protests who lost an eye. Amid chaotic scenes officers armed with pepper spray and swinging batons confronted the pro-democracy activists and a number of violent scuffles broke out, resulting in arrests. It comes as Beijing has made ominous declarations this week branding anti-extradition bill activists, in their 10th week as 'mobsters', as a military presence, including tanks, started to amass on the Chinese border, in the nearby city of Shenzhen, amid fears of a military crackdown.

The financial hub has been rocked by protests over the past months against a now-suspended bill that would allow people to be extradited from the city to stand trial in Communist Party-controlled courts in mainland China.

The mass display of opposition to the bill has morphed into a wider pro-democracy movement that has thrown down the most significant challenge to Beijing's authority since the former British colony returned to Chinese rule in 1997.

The protesters have continued to urge the government to respond to their five demands, including a complete withdrawal of the extradition bill, an independent enquiry into alleged police violence and universal suffrage.

Apart from the rallies at the airport, around 500 medical workers reportedly staged silent protests in 13 public hospitals today over what they claimed was the excessive use of force by the police during clashes over the weekend.

Many medical workers were also wearing eyepatches in answer to the campaign. The protests were staged during lunch breaks and have not affected the operations of the hospitals, said local reports.

The city's leader today warned that protesters were pushing the city down the 'path of no return'.

2. Her Disney days may be far behind her but Bella Thorne still knows how to Shake It Up. The 21-year-old multihyphenate announced on Tuesday that she is making her directorial debut with a pornography film for Pornhub. She was at the helm of the X-rated movie titled Her & Him which she describe as a 'beautiful, ethereal film.'

'Her & Him is a modernistic, sexually explicit Romeo and Juliet-like depiction of two star-crossed lovers who have unbridled sexual longing for each other.'

Porn stars Abella Danger and Small Hands star in the flick as there were some tense moments documented in the clip including the male star reading a google search on the female performer's phone which read 'how to kill your boyfriend and get away with it.'

The film will hit the big screen for the first time next month as part as The Oldenburg Film Festival in Germany from September 11 to 15.

Shortly thereafter fans around the world will be able to watch Her & Him as part of the Pornhub Premium service.

3. Miley Cyrus pushed for 'therapy' before Liam Hemsworth split and pop star only began dating Kaitlynn Carter after both women left their spouses. Miley attempted to save her marriage to Liam Hemsworth for 'months.' She began dating Kaitlynn Carter after both women left their spouses. Liam, 29, finally addressed the split with a somber post on Instagram. They reportedly separated in June but were last pictured together in July.

4. Whitney Cummings said someone tried to blackmail her with screengrabs from her Instagram Stories after she mistakenly uploaded an clip to the site that showed her bare breast. The 36-year-old actress/comic opened up about the incident in a series of tweets Monday, one in which she showed off the shot of herself, in which she sat naked in a tub while holding onto a sponge. She claimed that the initial post was four months ago, and she's since been hounded by the would-be extortionists.

‘In April I accidentally posted an insta story that showed nipple. Once I realized, I deleted,' she said.

The Washington, D.C. native continued, 'The people who took screen grabs are trying to get money from me, some said they have offers to sell them, some are asking for money to not post the photo.'

The 2 Broke Girls star said that the crooks who tried to illegally make money off her miscalculated what they had - and what it was worth to her.

'They all must think I'm way more famous than I am, but they also must think I'm way more easily intimidated than I am,' she said. 'If anyone is gonna make money or likes off my nipple, it's gonna be me. So here it all is, you foolish dorks.'

'When a woman in the public eye is extorted, we have to spend time, money and energy dealing with it, hiring lawyers and security experts, and living with a pit in our stomach about when and how we will be humiliated.

'Because some of them might be dumb kids,' Cummings said she didn't want to name the people who were giving her trouble.

'I wouldn't want the stupid ideas I had when I was a teenager to follow me around forever,' she said, 'or else every time someone Googled me, they'd see me shoplifting a NO FEAR t-shirt.'

Cummings seemed to have her trademark sense of humor intact amid being threatened, as she reposted a shot her comedic colleague Bert Kreischer shared of his genitalia following an injury.

'I hate what those dorks tried to do to you – here’s an embarrassing picture of my testicles after I fell on a waterslide,' Kreischer wrote, to which Cummings wrote, 'This is what a true friend looks like.'

5. A Minnesota man who organized a meth-fueled 'death party' for his sick wife before her death was sentenced on Monday to three years in prison. Duane Arden Johnson, 59, from Searles, was initially charged with third-degree murder over the death of his wife, Debra Lynn Johnson. Debra, 69, died of methamphetamine toxicity on January 24 in the couple’s home in Searles, an unincorporated community in Brown County, according to the Mankato Free Press. Duane Johnson agreed to plead guilty to the lesser charge of felony neglect, the news outlet reported. A Brown County judge sentenced him to three years, with credit for 201 days already served. Johnson told authorities his wife begged him to take her home from a nursing home to die.

Johnson told cops that his wife couldn’t sleep anymore because she was shaking so badly and he didn't want to see her suffer.

He said that he promised her a party and that they had been 'rocking out' for three days.

Johnson said that his wife did not want him to call 911 as she did not want to be in pain anymore, according to the probable cause document.

He claimed the 'death party' started about five days ago and consisted of him playing rock music, especially their favorite song by Quiot Riot called 'Metal Health.'

Johnson also told police that Debra had wanted him to have sex with her before she died so he 'accommodated that request' and they had sex for around an hour and a half.

He claimed that he had been using methamphetamine for several days and that he had also given some methamphetamine to his wife around two days previously.

He indicated that his wife had smoked the methamphetamine and that she wanted to 'party' before her death.

Johnson claimed that his wife may have passed away around 8.30am that morning and he also told police she was on numerous medications.

However, he said she had not been taking them for a few days since she had quit eating and drinking. He said during the 'death party' he would go outside to get ice and feed it to her, as if they were ice chips.

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