#I do sometimes think removing a 2000s style book cover from a 2000s style book can do it a disservice.......

[aroaessidhe]

ok not to go back to 2012 for a minute but look at these pretty new editions of the wicked lovely series.

art by Lea Yunk

[hwrryscherry]

 The one where the reader meets Harry as Jack

characters: HARRYxREADER!FEM

blurb: Harry is filming Don't Worry Darling in Palms Springs while Y/N is moving in in her new house in the neighbourhood where the movie is being filmed. Turns out the fate wanted to cross Harry and Y/N's way as a box full of books is very intriguing to Harry and Pride and Prejudice becomes Harry's new favorite.

word count: 2.7K

author's note: Heyy guys, it has been SO LONG and honestly I don’t think this is best work yet lol but anyway, I had the worst writer’s block of my life so it was so hard for me to write a single word. Honestly, I felt kinda pressured to write. I felt like I was pressuring myself for that so I had to take advantage of this block and take this idea out of my mind. I want to say something important too; I really want to say that the only story of mine that I’ll keep the face claim is HARRYxMODELY/N, just because I like to use the photos to make instagram posts sometimes. I will no longer describe types of hair as I used to say ‘’long strands of hair’’, it will be neutral for you to imagine yourself in the story. It’s all about you guys and how you can visualize the story and the character, if you want to imagine a face claim that’s cool but if you don’t want to it’s cool too. Feel free to read and visualize, it’s all about you. Thank you for the support on my account and my writing. I’m aware that I’m not the best lol, but I also think that I have so much to learn from you just as I have to teach. I’m so grateful for everyone who reads and like my stuff. Never forget that you’re unique, you’re loved, you’re so golden and treat people with kindness always.

   "Why is it so hot in here? It's fucking December!", you'd think to yourself as you drove your new car through the streets of Palm Springs. The thing is that after you moved from Columbia to reside so many years in New York while you were studying English Language and Literature in Yale, you just got so used with the usual colder weather from NY and it's just a different vibe from California. You had such a hard time to decide what you wanted to do after graduating, though. And after a few weeks and some long conversations with your family, you decided you would go to California. Palm Springs, to be more specific. You decided that because you remembered all the times you went there when you were a kid because your grandmother lived in there before she passed. You remember spending your summer vacation with her and how cool it was. It was in the early 2000′s and there was many kids on your age that lived on her street. You remember playing with them all day and then getting back into your grandma’s house and feeling that cinnamon scent that for some one only her house had. It wasn’t a usual cinnamon scent. It had something special in it. It made you feel so warm and welcomed. You remember helping her to bake the most delicious cookies, brownies and cakes in her kitchen. You remember the kitchen had a yellow counter, but the entire kitchen was white. All very pale and then the cheerful yellow in the kitchen that colored everything. You remember going to play bingo with her and how it made her happy to having you around. You both were so close and you had such a hard time when she passed, but the most important was she taught you so many things during your time together, and you’d never forget those things and her.

    As you drove, you’d remember those streets vaguely. You’d pass through the soccer court you typically used to go with the other kids and spent hours playing in there. You were vibing with the song in the stereo as you started getting closer to your new house’s street. It was Carolina by Harry Styles; you have to admit you’re not the biggest Harry Styles fan in the world, but you were definitely a One Direction fan when you were around 16, but you couldn't be considered a directioner either. You just listened to a few songs and thought it was good. But anyway, this specific song is one that you particularly like. It may have something to do with the fact that you’re from Carolina, of course. But it’s more about the vibe and the melody that by being animated it could actually cheer anyone up and the lyrics were undeniably good though, a little sexual, but good. It’s more about the vibe and the melody that by being animated it could actually cheer anyone up and the lyrics were really good though, a little sexual, but good.

    When you turned the right way into the street of your new home, you came across much more than you expected to see on your moving day. There were, as it seemed, paparazzi. Apparently they were shooting a movie right in your street, and it had also many people with many cameras and trailers that probably were dressing rooms. Naturally, you knew that thousands of films were shot in California, that’s obvious. But you didn't expect one to be shooting exactly on your moving day and specifically in your street, let alone that the street would be this crowded since the world is experiencing a global pandemic, ironic. You observed some of the people walking down the street, or should you call it a set? You don't know, but there were many people and many cars, at least they were all wearing masks. It had many classic cars, probably in the 40s or 50s style. They were colorful; vivid colors, though. Colors like yellow, blue and lilac was really present. To resume, the whole street looked like a movie from the 50s and for sure that was the intention because you could notice some extras walking around the set dressed up as 50s people used to.

    As you carefully drive through the street, you’d notice that from what seemed like a divine miracle, there was a vacant parking spot right in front of your house and you can’t help but smile when you see it. The first time you came here to see the house. You were with your family, and that was about four months ago. You just loved the house completely as it had such a different vibe from the place you used to live in New York, and honestly, just the thought of the house made your creativity activate as it had some really cool colored walls and you bought some colored mobile as well. Anyway, you stopped the car right in front of your house finishing the engine and grabbing your mask and putting it in your face as you'd use your hand to get rid of the seat belt and your other hand to open the car door and get out of the car.

    After closing the driver's seat door, you go around the car walking to the trunk where you use the car key to open it. When you open it, you are faced with two cardboard boxes. One was full of books. Books of all kinds, books of period novels, books of suspense, books of investigation and etc. Books that piqued your curiosity and made you want to finish reading it as quickly as possible. The other box was already full of clothes, those last clothes that you would finally be taking home. Your mother has done the biggest job in the moving issue; she was the one who was bringing the furniture and your things while you finished packing the rest of your things to leave New York. You try your hardest not to pay attention to the set of recordings and the people who walked back and forth, at the same time that you tried hard not to make any noise, because if you accidentally disturbed a scene, you would feel extremely embarrassed and would probably not even show up at the gate until the end of filming, but that was not the case. You removed the two boxes from the trunk just before closing it completely. You chose, perhaps, to enter the clothes box first. You bent down taking the box in your arms and walked to the door of the house where you used the key you received from the real-estate agent to unlock it before entering. You immediately noticed that some sunbeams reflected on the living room floor due to the white linen curtain that covered the glass windows. You observed the contrast of the sofa in such a light tone with the lilac wall just behind it. You walked with the box in hand by the door extension to the room where you placed the box on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. Returning out of the house, you can see the figure of a tall man dressed in a brown suit crouched in front of the box of your books. He had brown hair and properly cut. It didn't look like he was messing with your books, but he was definitely looking at them and it seemed like he was trying to read the covers of it for some reason. You slowly got closer to the man's body without making too much noise while you analyzed him, you crossed your arms upon your chest as you noticed the book cover he was looking at: Love is a mixtape by Rob Sheffield.

— This one is amazing! — You said, surprising the man that stand up fastly with the book in his hands connecting his green gaze with yours. He was tall, really tall by the way. His suit seemed perfect, just as his hair. He had a black mask on as a protection but the 16 year old teenager inside of you could never mistake those eyes. It was Harry fricking Styles. You considerated being quiet as you, yourself were pretty surprised now, but then you took your gaze to the book in his hand and then back at his face — It's like comparing love to a popular song that we usually search to define love. Just to find out that love is like oxygen, or love is a kind of drug, or a battlefield for some... — You said referring to the book with a tender smile on your face that Harry couldn't essentially see, but talking about a book that you loved caused this on you. And as you talked you didn't notice that Harry had a smile on his face as well. Maybe it was because you completely ignored the fact that he is Harry Styles and he was messing up your books as he's on the set filming a movie, or maybe it was the fact that he loved this book just as much as you did. He'd use to say this is probably one of the books that if he had to read just one book to the rest of his life, he'd chose this one and he usually had so much to talk about this book and so much to put on an argument about it but now he was completely speechless. He was just tongue tied. He was tongue tied about your reflection of one of his favorite books and how it looked so identical to his own personal reflection. He was tongue tied for the number of great books that he always wanted to read that was on that box. He was tongue tied at the owner of those books and her beauty, her intelligence of her voice and her voice as well so he just chuckled. A nervous chuckle as he leaned his head to look at the floor for a second before looking at you and holding out the book in his hands to you that calmly took it from his hands.

— I know! It's one of my favorite books! — Harry'd ultimately manage to say it as he observed you admiring the cover and running your fingers through it as a truly book lover would do — It's very interesting the interpretation you have of it.

— Don't you agree? — You'd interrupt him rising your head to examine at his face. He seemed paralyzed by some way, little did you know that Harry was mesmerized. He enjoyed the informal way you were speaking with him, and it genuinely felt like you already knew it each for years.

— That's the intriguing part. We have the same interpretation! — He'd say serenely, and then running his hand through his hair as he frown a little because of the sun that just hit on his glowing eyes.

— Well...Maybe you're just trying to imitate me to impress me! — You'd joke, with a mocking expression on your face making Harry giggle at your words and your face. It was the sense of humor to him.

— Oh really? And what makes you think I'm trying to impress you? — Harry'd say back with the same mocking tone that you formerly used. He'd observe your face go from playful to thoughtful in just as you to come up with a response.

— I mean...you were the one looking through my stuff, mister! — You say raising your eyebrows as you utilized one of your hands to take some strands of hair out of your face.

— Right... — Harry said with a defeated voice before as he compressed his lips together and moved his suit away from his shirt a little as he places his hands on his waist — I'm sorry about it, though. There was this box hanging here and I guess I was just intrigued! — He said shyly making you start walking towards the box walking closely to him causing him to feel a hot warm from your body as you passed. You'd bend over to grab the box but was stopped by Harry taking the heavy box from your hands — Let me help you with this! — Harry said as he held the box on his arms.

— There's no need for that. It'll ruin your splendid suit! — You'd say gently to him as he was standing up in front of you carefully holding the loaded box. Legitimately, he looked hot. He properly looked like a 50s husband helping with the moving with this outfit — And if you piss off your costume designer because of me I'll die! — You'd complement receiving a loud laugh from Harry's lips that shook his head while looking at you.

— She’ll be fine! — Harry'd argue back, then get a sigh from you before nodding at him as a statement.

— My house is right there! — You'd say using your right hand to point at your house, watching Harry turn his back to you and start walking towards it. You followed him through the door that was already open. Harry looked at the house immediately. It had a good vibe, and he wouldn't deny it. The choice of colors was exceptional, but he also noticed it was not very tidy, which would probably indicate that you were moving today.

— Where do I leave it? — Harry asked, referring to the box as he went farther into the living room.

— You can just leave it on the floor — You serenely said crossing your arms together and watching as he left the box on the floor and turned around to face you, but then deflecting his gaze to the ceiling before staring at your face again.

— It's a beautiful house! — Harry said as he moved his gaze through the room. He observed everything. He likes to observe. He likes to notice things that maybe other people didn't — Just like the owner, if I might say — Harry said cheekily and charming hearing your giggle invade his ears as you started walking towards the box of books that he previously set on the floor.

— The owner says thank you — You said bending down and starting to take the books out of the box and place it on the coffee table beside you as Harry watched your movements. You shyly looked at him thinking for a second and them smiling under your mask — For both compliments! — You said getting your attention back to the books. It's not that you don't want to give him your attention. It's that you genuinely think that he's just being nice, and he's probably not even interested in anything that you say.

— So... I have to go back to the film now but maybe you can give me your number so we can talk about your interpretation of my favorite book — Harry said shyly. His words took you by surprise actually but you couldn't hold back the smirk you had under your mask as you stand up again turning to face his green eyes. You noticed that he had his phone on his hand, hoping and waiting that you'd give him your number even though both of you knew that the book excuse was nothing more than an excuse as he was truly interested in knowing you.

— Well, it depends... — you said slowly as you took a deep breath before actually saying anything — If you agree to read my favorite books too, I'll give you my number!

— I'd be honored! — Harry chuckled after letting a sigh out feeling relief that you asked for something so simple that he'd love to do if that would make you happy — What's your name? — Harry said as he unblocked his phone screen and started to save your phone number.

— Save it as Elizabeth Bennet in there! — You said fastly with a proud smile on your face as Harry giggled and did as you ask and then looked at your face as he put his phone back on his pocket.

— Only if you save my name as Mr. Darcy when I call you! — Harry said knowing that after this, Pride and Prejudice would definitely become one of his favorite books ever.

[corbo-florbo]

Fantasy Booking: John Cena & Elias

Tagging the awesome @mith-gifs-wrestling and the amazing @adriennegabriella for this one, since they seem to enjoy my fantasy bookings so far!

So as of writing this, John Cena is coming back to Friday Night Smackdown on February 28 of 2020, and I’ve got a couple or few ideas of what I’d like to have done with him. I figured, why not start with one that seems like a continuation of a recent subtle ongoing feud with The Drifter, Elias?

Are you ready for a good time? The episode of Smackdown opens with a bang, as fireworks go off and fans cheer. Then the hum of John Cena’s music blasts through the arena, and he looks as happy as ever when making his way to the ring. 

Cena grabs a mic, and waits for the cheers to die down. “Boy, y’all sure did miss me huh? I gotta admit, it’s been a while. I left y’all behind while I pursued my acting career, but it’s okay, it’s fine, The Leader of the Cenation is back baby!” *cheers* “But it’s not all about to be sunshine and rainbows, I’m afraid. See, I gots some things to share with y’all, and I dunno how y’all are gonna feel about it.” John then turns his hat around to where the bill is facing behind him. “Y’see-”

A guitar strum silences John as the arena goes dark and the spotlight flashes on one sole figure making his way to the ring. That figure ladies and gentlemen, is Elias. “John, John, John. Oh, this is so us. I interrupt you, you interrupt me, it’s a whole thing! Sometimes I beat your ass, you beat my ass, you know how it goes! Why, last time you threw a package of nuts at me, and quite frankly, you said some mean things at me. When was that? Oh, uh... Wrestlemania! But it’s all good, John. I’m glad to see you back! Maybe this time we can duet, because I”m tired of playing with myself.” John grins at this. “Oh, you like that one don’t you, John? Yeah, that was pretty funny. Now, I’m not sure why you tilted your hat backwards, but I thought maybe we can show it’s all water under the bridge and have some honest to God fun! It’s Wrestlemania season after all!”

Elias steps in the ring and John leans on the turnbuckle opposite Elias’s end, with a Cheshire grin on his face. Elias strums and plucks at his guitar. “Hey John, why don’t you start us off with a rap verse, maybe? I think that’ll get the people of Boston in the spirit! What do ya say, Boston?” Obviously, cheers.

John nods, puts his arm around Elias’s shoulder, and as a melody emanates from Elias’s guitar, John opens his mouth, as though he’s about to rap, until a quick turn and Drift Away! Ladies and gentlemen, John Cena has taken down Elias with his own move! Why, John, why?!

The next week passes and there’s a new episode of Smackdown. Neither man is to be found until the main event, advertised earlier in the day as an explanation from John Cena. People sit, waiting for the familiar “My Time Is Now” but instead are met with “Basic Thuganomics”. Cena comes out, decked in the same wear befitting of someone dressed in early 2000′s hip-hop clothing style. 

“Word Life” brass knuckles wrapped around his fingers, microphone in hand, the Doctor of Thuganomics speaks. “Now, since I was so RUDELY interrupted last week by that weak, punk ass jobber, allow me to lay down the line right here, right now. Y’all cheering me were the same ones booing me all them years. No matter what I did, it wasn’t good ‘nuff for ya. It wasn’t until I used my profile to elevate others, you seemed to care. 2006. One Night Stand. Manhattan. Hammerstein Ballroom. I came out to toxic, nuclear heat and my shirt being thrown right back at me. Said I ain’t got no moves! I gave them moves! They boo’d that shit too! I’d give my all, yet I was so hated. Yet the children loved me. Guess what? Those kids grew up. Y’all even popped loud as hell whenever someone mentions my failed relationship with Nikki Bella? Y’all so easily worked it ain’t even funny! She and I are still tight, life just pulls us in diff’rent directions. Y’all hated me, now ya want me back. Now I’ve been gone so long, y’all miss me? Well, John Cena don’t forget, no he don’t! I remember clear as day, y’all as fickle as Daniel Bryan always said, but he back in the Kool-Aid now, talkin’ bout the Yes Movement comin’ back. Now he fickle too, but that’s okay ‘cause Cena here to collect. Talk about my golden shovel, talk about burying talent, well guess what? Anyone in my path gon’ wish they was dead. Cena out.” 

Cut to next week’s Smackdown, things seem to have gone back to normal. Elias is back, and is in a match with Mustafa Ali. Of course, he is a little paranoid of John Cena, which Ali takes advantage of, easily getting in the win. Elias doesn’t seem to even care or process the loss. He just...leaves. Like someone who left a haunted house, but the haunted house hasn’t left them. 

Main event time, and the Dirt Sheet is dunking on everybody. They continue to talk smack to The New Day in their ongoing feud. John Morrison dunks on Elias for his upset state, while Miz derides the outdated nature of John Cena. On the Titantron, John Cena calls them out via satellite, as he sees himself above fighting anyone on the roster on a measly episode of Smackdown. “I mean, I’m John F%#^ng Cena!” Miz and Morrison then challenge him to a 2-on-1 handicap match, now he’s got them too heated to go after Kofi Kingston and Big E of New Day, that they MUST beat Cena. And they must do it at the upcoming Elimination Chamber pay per view.

The night of the match, Cena dominates. He takes both men out with ease. Miz, perhaps the easiest, but Morrison’s parkour gives him at least a sliver of a chance. Cena is the victor. 

More Smackdowns, more of Elias being afraid. Miz and Morrison act like nothing happened, pretending they didn’t just fight and lose to John Cena. Elimination Chamber didn’t happen in their eyes. They continue to emasculate Elias, who on the fifth Friday night, grows tired of them mocking him and takes them down, accusing them of being in cahoots with him. He’s greatly losing it, as is evident when he plays his guitar out of tune, or messes up lyrics. 

Roman Reigns, however, is tired of it all. He calls out Cena, challenging him at Fastlane, which Cena accepts. Not before he chastises Roman about how he had to elevate him at No Mercy 2017, about how while he isn’t as hated by crowds anymore, he’s still just “a guy”, and will never reach that level. That Roman’s 2017 win was just a fluke. Yet another nut joke by the Doctor of Thuganomics  before a low blow and an F.U. lays Roman out at the end of the night.

Fastlane 2020 approaches, and the two put on a 30 minute classic. Roman gets more vicious, and Cena becomes more dastardly. He constantly taunts and goads Roman most of the match, and at one point even HEADBUTTS HIM. That’s something you don’t do to Samoan pro wrestlers, yet Cena evades it all, wearing Roman down until he runs out of steam. Roman, staggering, falls victim to another F.U. before being gifted with Cena’s Five-Knuckle Shuffle, and goes for the pin. Cena wins, but his victory is shortly celebrated after Elias slams a guitar on Cena’s head, the last visual of the match being Elias glaring down at his handiwork.

Elias is not to be seen the next several Smackdowns leading to Wrestlemania, at least not live. In pre-taped segments, in front of chain-link fences, Elias rambles on about how John Cena lives rent-free in his head. In the final vignette of his ramblings, Elias declares at Wrestlemania that he will get his groove back, as he plays a new percussion instrument, one he calls John Cena before declaring the match needing to be No DQ. Meanwhile, Cena hosts mini-segments where he freestyle raps about how trashy a lot of the wrestlers signed to WWE are, along with old legends. Last Smackdown, he raps about how easily worked Elias got, that he doesn’t stand a chance because Cena declares himself the master of psychology, adding to his resume, added along with being  a doctor of Thuganomics.

Wrestlemania time, and Elias is easily dominated early in the match. It’s almost like Cena vs Lesnar at Summerslam all over again, until Elias goes in for a Drift Away and hammers on Cena. He even grabs his head, “slamming” it down on the mat before stomping and kicking Cena. Elias manically grabs at his own hair, before bringing chairs into it. 

Elias slams Cena with chair after chair, but like a superhuman, Cena rises again and again. He can even be heard that no injury, no chair could hold him down. Elias doesn’t stop though. He hits like he has lost his mind. It’s as though his brain is now the one drifting in and out, not him. There’s almost a rhythm to Elias’s shots. Then he sets it up for a con-chair-to. And another. And another and another, you get the picture. Cena’s lifeless body is rolled over and Elias covers him for a pin, and you see his hand move, but he does not kick out. Elias gets the win, and is tearing with joy. His first Wrestlemania win, and it’s one not for a title, but a peace of mind and a reclamation of his lost sanity. 

Almost as if knocked into his senses, Cena rises, clutching his head. He removes the “Word Life” armbands and wristbands and shakes Elias’s hand before raising it. Cena has reclaimed his own soul, seeing everyone cheer for Elias. The sight of what he missed was enough to wake him up. He had grown cocky of having won the world of wrestling, music, and film that he forgot what it was like, being someone looking to make a name. He remembers that same John Cena that made an impact after beating Kurt Angle and winning the respect of the locker room back in the early 2000′s.

Elias is able to move on to other feuds, no longer feeling the need as a drifter to bash other towns he rolls into, and even finds himself in main events every now and then. Cena reflects the night on Raw after Wrestlemania that he is done with wrestling now, but the WWE Universe will see him again from time to time. He leaves with letting everyone know the three most important words to him: Hustle Loyalty and Respect.

The end.

I hope you guys enjoyed it! I got two more Cena fantasy bookings, then I hope to jump into some fresher ideas later!

[pherryt]

Soooo anyway im a total angst hound and ur like one of the best writers in this fandom?? So I have s prompt if ur willing:: DCJ ABO where Dean (Omega) gets assaulted and his Alpha mates jimmy and Cas take care of him in the aftermath ... pretty please? 😘😘

Oh my goodness – I don’t know how to take that?I mean that’s…that’s just really awesome of you to say! I know I’m not the bestout there, but that was really, really nice to hear right now! Thank you so much!

Okay, so this is long. (over 2000 words - i’ve noticed a pattern. Anything DCJ and anything different world building wise like ABO and the prompt always manages to get LONGER)

Also, it was kinda hard, subject wise. So for both reasons, I’mgonna put the majority of this behind a cut – okay? I hope you like it :D

 _____

“Dean’slate,” Jimmy said, biting his nails.

“Dean’salways late,” Cas replied. “You know how he gets when he starts talking aboutmovies, comic books or cars.” Castiel tried to ignore his brother and continuedto write. Well, tried to anyway. Jimmy was right. Dean was late.But he didn’t want to be one of those stereotypical, over protective Alphas.

Besides,Jimmy was doing quite enough of that for both of them. And Deancould take care of himself. It would do nobody good for Castiel to become anoverly panicked Alpha. Someone was going to have to remain calm and levelheadedenough to run interference between Jimmy and Dean.

Theirswasn’t the typical mating and if their biology hadn’t backed them up 100percent – mating bites just didn’t work if you weren’t compatible or if youwere already ‘taken’. If it hadn’t worked, and the people around them hadn’tjust blinked and shook their head in confusion - but otherwise leaving themalone about their ‘unusual’ relationship – the trio would have had a lot moreissues then they already had.

Andreally, who needed more of those?

Becauseas much as they loved each other, you had two Alpha’s and an Omega sharing thesame space, the same affections. It tended to create friction, occasionally. Theirplace was small, and with three men trying to out Alpha the other – well, itmade the place feel even smaller sometimes when the dominance games were playedout.

Ittook time, but they eventually found their rhythm, and each of them had an areaof the apartment which was unequivocably theirdomain. With that compromise in place, peace, for the most part, ruled. Despitethe stubborn tendencies of all three of them, or the insecurities Dean hadabout being an Omega.

TheNovak’s blamed his father for that.

Jimmy’shead perked up, derailing Cas’ train of thought, when he heard the roar of theImpala. The sound of it drifting up through the open window, even up threestories. It was a powerful car and Dean was proud of it. As he should be.

Casshook his head with a smile, finally looking up from his notebook, “I told youDean was fine.”

“Yeah,yeah,” Jimmy waved off his brother and darted into the kitchen where he’d kepttheir dinner warming. He dished out the steaming food to each of their plates,expecting to hear the door opening and the scuff of Dean’s work boots anysecond now.

Heplaced all the pots and pans and serving dishes back and took his seat at thetable, his brother joining him with a smile. Tonight was special. And they’djust been waiting for Dean to come home. It was most of the reason why Jimmyhad been so anxious about Dean being late. He glanced at the clock and hissmile wavered. He looked towards the door and then back at his brother.

“Doesn’ttake that long to get to the third floor,” Jimmy said in confusion.

“Maybethe elevator broke again?” Cas, ever calm, suggested.

Theyboth turned to face the door expectantly.

Deanknew he should have gone straight to the hospital.  But as soon as he’dmanaged to limp away from his…his attackers, all he could think of was thecomforting arms of his mates.

Butnow that he was here…he swallowed, a wave of dizziness washing over him as hestared out of the Impala’s front windshield and up to the window of theirapartment on the 3rdfloor, the light flooding out, warm andinviting.

Nowthat he was home, he was too ashamed to go inside, to admit how fucking weak he’dbeen. His breathing hitched, and he lifted a shaking, bleeding hand to coverhis mouth, though it didn’t stop the wrenching sobs or the tears that floweddown his face.

Dean’shead was killing him, his eyes were burning and now he couldn’t fucking breath. And that was only the tip of theiceberg. He looked and felt like a complete and utter wreck. He was bleedingfrom who knew how many wounds, he was sure some of his ribs were broken - possiblyhis left hand too, it sure as hell hurt enough - and he was afraid to put anyweight on his ankle again.

Deanhad literally collapsed into the Impala when he’d reached her and he just wasn’tsure he could make it another two feet.

Evenif he could stop crying long enough to find the courage to try.

Hewas a fucking mess and he knew it. And after what had happened…he just felt sodirty. He’d managed to get away – he still wasn’t sure how – before it could goany further but the intent had been clear. He felt sick.

Andif he felt this way, would Cas and Jimmy ever want him anywhere near them everagain?

Hewas stuck. Hurt and in pain – all he wanted was his mates. But with his shameand the fear curdling through him, Dean was afraid to reach out to them.

No,they loved him. He had to try.

Deanreached for the door and pushed at it weakly, groaning at the pain that shot upthrough his arm as he tried, the door refusing to budge. He dropped against itinstead, feeling dizzy again.

Wait.His phone. Did he still have it or had it fallen out of his pocket when…

Deanswallowed against another sob and bit his trembling lip to hold back more ashis hands awkwardly patted down his clothes, practically shreds. Finally, hecame up with his phone. But when he brought it to his face, he saw the screenwas cracked. He wanted to scream and toss the phone, but he didn’t have theenergy left for that.

Instead,he just let the phone slip out of his hand, let his lip slip out of his teethand sniffled, letting his heavy, burdened eyes close.

Thedoor creaked and shifted open slightly, a hand reaching in to grab at hisshoulder. Dean whimpered at the pain that shot through him.

“Dean!”the hand eased up but stayed in place so the door could be opened fully withoutworry of Dean falling out.

“Cas?”Dean tried to open his eyes. Instead, he winced and groaned, barely holdingback a scream as hands pulled him out of the car and jostled his ribs.

“Fuck,what happened?” Jimmy asked, panic, concern and anger in his voice.

Deanwinced and whimpered again, trying to shrink away. He hadn’t wanted them to seehim like this. What would they say?

“Jimmy,get the doors,” Cas ordered, appearing calm as usual, but Jimmy heard thetightness that denoted worry. A worry that Dean was too out of it to hear,though he was usually so attuned to the twins it could be scary.

Jimmyran ahead as Cas instructed and propped open the doors, running back to checkif his brother needed any help picking Dean up. Dean may have been bigger thanboth of them, but neither Cas nor Jimmy were weaklings. And right now, that wasa damn good thing.

Carefullypicking Dean up bridal style, Cas tucked Dean’s nose into his neck, hoping tosooth the roiling emotions that rolled off their mate in waves. “I’ve got him,Jimmy. I think you better get upstairs and get ready.”

Nodding,Jimmy darted up the stairs ahead of Cas, making sure every door was proppedopen that he could. There wasn’t much he could do about the elevator, though.

Heheaded straight for the excessively large first aid kit he kept in the bathroomand hauled it into the bedroom, yanking the blankets right off the bed. Once Dean’swounds were dealt with, they’d need the blankets to wrap him up in and neitherCas nor Jimmy were going to want to leave him long enough to search for cleanones.

Openingthe kit, he ran through his head what he’d seen – what was obvious and what wasmost likely and started prioritizing accordingly.

He’djust finished getting ready when Cas made it to the bedroom, gently laying Deandown. Dean didn’t want to let go. Now that he had his mates, now that he’d hadCas’s soothing scent in his nose, he clutched at Cas’s shirt, afraid to be leftbehind.

Casshot a heartbroken look at his brother. “What do I do?”

“Ineed your help, but we need to keep him calm even more. So, get up there andsupport him – just, hold him and don’t let him thrash. I think he has brokenbones.”

Castielwas never more grateful that his brother was an EMT than that night. He helped wherehe could, removing the clothing he could reach, holding bandages and continuingto sooth Dean who kept zoning in and out. Occasionally sobbing, sometimesflinching and crying out in pain.

Butas they uncovered more and more injuries that made clear what had happened,they also heard their mate apologizing, could smell the shame on him as hebegged them not to leave him.

“No!No, no, no, Dean,” Cas protested, his voice cracking, “No, oh god – we’re notleaving you! We’d never leave you!  Don’teven think it - we’re not mad at you. We’re here for you. Always. We love you. Thiswasn’t your fault – you have nothing to be ashamed of!”

Castielfelt tears welling up in his own eyes and a glance at Jimmy proved his brotherwasn’t doing much better. He was biting his lip to keep himself in control,something he’d learned from Dean and usually made Cas laugh.

Nottonight.

Jimmyfinally wrapped the last bandage and promptly shoved everything off the end ofthe bed, wasting no time in dragging a blanket up with him, helping Cas layDean out properly and tucking the blanket around their mate gently andcarefully.

Stillholding on to Cas, Dean reached for Jimmy, needing both of them now more thanever before. “Don’t leave me,” Dean whispered again, burying his face in Jimmy’sneck. He tried to turn, to twist and cried out at the sharp pain.

“Shhh…it’sokay, we got ya. Don’t move, okay? Please, Dean?” Jimmy whispered. Between them,the twins managed to maneuver Dean so he was curled up in his blanket, snugbetween his mates so he could soak in their love. Jimmy’s hands curled in Dean’shair, holding him close, threading his finger soothingly through the usuallystyled locks.

Cascuddled up close behind him but afraid to touch Dean, afraid that his touchwould bring only more pain to the man he loved. He settled for being pressed lightlyagainst Dean’s back, dropping a kiss on his head and nestling in close there,breathing in Dean’s scent, trying to stay close enough that Dean could stillget his as well.

Itshould have helped, but Dean wasn’t really any calmer than before, though thetone of it had shifted. Worried, pleading…convinced his Alphas were going toleave him because he’d failed to fend off a group of Alpha’s who’d believedmight made right.

A fuckinggroup! Castiel and Jimmy had to restraintheir growls, because of course ithadn’t been just one or two. Dean was more than capable of handling himselfunder those circumstances. But instead, he’d had the worst of all luck, foughtback and failed. Dean didn’t accept failures and it must only be contributingto his current sense of worthlessness, made worse by the ever-taunting memoryof John Winchester and his disdain for all things Omega.

Noteven the fact that Dean eventually did getaway under his own power, kept things from getting worse, did anything toalleviate the shame and fear that twisted in their noses.

Notfor the first time did the Novak twins wish they could have a go at Dean’sfather.

Instead,they could only do their best to assure their mate. Surrounding him with lovingscents, touches and words.

Eventuallythe sobs died down.

Eventually,Dean’s scent smoothed out. The shame and worry, fear and self-loathing fadingaway. Not gone, but smaller now, which was a start.

Eventually,his breathing evened out as well, allowing him to rest in the arms of hisloving mates.

Theentire time, the twins whispered words of love and assurance, rubbed gently athis back and shoulders, played fingers through his hair, cuddled him as closeas they dared and took turns in scenting him and being scented.

Thedamage was done, but together they’d heal.

[kacydeneen]

Sen. McCain Leaves Complicated Political Legacy

U.S. Sen. John McCain said last year that he wanted to be remembered for his service to his country and that is how nearly every lawmaker and many of the journalists who covered him have paid tribute to him after his death.

But there is another reaction playing out over McCain's legacy as well, less mentioned in the running cable news commentary but present in comment threads on Facebook and Twitter.

Some on both sides of the political spectrum are refusing to join in the tributes to a man who styled himself as a maverick determined to go his own way and who left behind a complicated legacy over his more than 60 years of service.

McCain, 81, famously voted against the repeal of the Affordable Care Act, or Obamacare, but then eliminated the the individual mandate on which it depended when he supported the Republican tax bill. There was that time he shared a mean spirited, homophobic joke about then 18-year-old Chelsea Clinton in 2008, telling a fundraising dinner, “Do you know why Chelsea Clinton is so ugly? Because Janet Reno is her father.”

McCain worked across the aisle with Democrats such as Sen. Ted Kennedy, with whom he proposed an immigration reform bill, and with fellow veteran former Sen. John Kerry on reconciling with Hanoi. But in 2000, he refused to apologize for using a racial slur against his North Vietnamese prison guards, a stand that earned him quick censure.

“I hate the gooks,” he told reporters while campaigning for the GOP presidential nomination. “I will hate them as long as I live.”

Politicians who tried to breach the partisan divide found themselves facing accusations of betraying their beliefs. A tweet from New York’s Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, a progressive candidate for the House, in which she said McCain’s “legacy represents an unparalleled example of human decency and American service,” elicited attacks on the senator and frustration toward her. “No, no, no Alexandria. He was a war criminal, hands down. You are young, please reconsider your opinion,” wrote one follower.

And when civil rights icon Rep. John Lewis, Democrat of Georgia, tweeted that McCain was “a warrior for peace,” one reader asked of Lewis, “Weren’t you protesting during the civil rights movement? Do you think he would have supported you, as you were getting sprayed with fire hoses and beaten with batons? He would have defended the police.”

McCain himself left a letter to his country in which he appealed to his fellow Americans to love the United States the way he did, and appeared to criticize Trump without naming the president.

“We weaken our greatness when we confuse our patriotism with tribal rivalries that have sown resentment and hatred and violence i all the corners of the globe,” he wrote. “We weaken it when we hide behind walls, rather than tear them down, when we doubt the power of our ideals, rather than true them to be the great force for change they have always been.”

He wrote that although Americans sometimes vilify each other in public debates, they have so much more in common than in disagreement.

“If only we remember that and give each other the benefit of the presumption that we all love our country we will get through these challenging times,” he wrote. “We will come through them stronger than before. We always do.”

But is that still true or is the country so fractured, so angry, so polarized that Americans can no longer see anything in common with their political opponents?

On the left, detractors do not forgive McCain’s selection of former Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin as his running mate during the 2008 presidential race and his hawkish stances on Iraq and Iran. He joked about bombing Iran during a campaign appearance when he sang a snatch of the Beach Boys’ classic “Barbara Ann” substituting the words: “Bomb, bomb, bomb.”

During that race, he deferred to South Carolina over whether the Confederate battle flag should be removed from the Statehouse instead of calling for it to be taken down, a decision he later apologized for. And in a new book and documentary he expressed regret about choosing Palin over former Connecticut Sen. Joseph Lieberman, a Democrat who became an independent — though without criticizing Palin’s performance, which some people say opened the door for President Donald Trump’s populism and celebrity culture.

On the right, McCain was lambasted as a RINO, or Republican in name only, who defied Trump and his party on Obamacare, and was accused of being part of the so-called “deep state” — permanent government officials, who were working to oust Trump. 

Trump was angry that after the 2016 election, McCain had given the FBI a copy of a dossier detailing unsubstatiated salacious allegations against the president. McCain had learned of the dossier from a retired British diplomat while at a security forum in Canada, and later passed a copy to the FBI. The 35 pages of research memos written by Christopher Steele, a retired British spy, allege a conspiracy between Trump's campaign and the Russian government to help Trump win the election and include unsubstantiated reports of Trump meeting with Russian prostitutes.

“Upon examination of the contents, and unable to make a judgment about their accuracy, I delivered the information to the director of the FBI. That has been the extent of my contact with the FBI or any other government agency regarding this issue,” McCain said in a statement.

He disagreed with hard-line immigration policies emerging under Trump, who in an op-ed published in USA Today in 2015 accused McCain of pushing “amnesty” during his time as a senator.

McCain in his last book, “The Restless Wave,” countered that some politicians were racists. 

“Whatever their reasons, the cynical and the ignorant promotion of false information and unnecessary fear have the same outcome,” he wrote with his co-author, Mark Salter. “Decent, hardworking people who mean no harm are blamed for crime, unemployment, failing schools, and various other ills, and become in the eyes of many the objects of hate and fear.”

His Vietnam record was mocked by some — Trump famously said that because McCain was captured, he was not a hero -- and though he supported wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, he fought back against interrogation methods he called torture.

When Democrats released a report on the harsh methods in 2014, and most Republicans were muted in their response, McCain was not. He said he knew from his own experience that the abuse of prisoners produced more bad intelligence than good.

“Our enemies act without conscience,” he said. “We must not.”

The rancor between McCain and the president was on full display in the year after McCain was diagnosed with brain cancer and he became known as one Republican unafraid to stand up to Trump.

McCain called Trump’s summit with Russian President Vladimir Putin “a tragic mistake” and accused Trump of failing to defend America as “a republic of free people dedicated to the cause of liberty at home and abroad.” The antipathy continued to spill out after McCain’s death when Trump initially declined to release a statement honoring the senator and raised the U.S. flag over the White House on Monday while Congressional flags remained lowered to half staff. By the end of the day the White House flag had been lowered again.

McCain’s circle meanwhile announced the president would not attend his funeral.

His willingness to take on Trump might have contributed to the fact that more Democrats than Republicans had a positive view of McCain. Before the 2008 election, 15 percent of Democrats had a positive view of McCain, compared to 91 percent of Republicans. But last year, an NBC/WSJ poll found that 52 percent of Democrats and only 35 percent of Republicans had a positive view.

That personal dislike aside, McCain voted in line with Trump’s position 83 percent of the time, according to an analysis done by FiveThirtyEight. Whether that showed independence or a lockstep loyalty to his party despite disagreements is part of the debate.

His fellow politicians offered their own contrasting views of McCain.

“John puts things in terms of black and white, right and wrong,” then-Sen. Tim Hutchinson, a Republican from Arkansas, told The Washington Post in 2000. “If you disagree with him, you’re wrong. He doesn’t see that there could be legitimate differences of opinion that deserve respect.”

But former U.S. Sen. Russ Feingold, a Democrat from Wisconsin, wrote in The New York Times: 

“The fact is, as passionate as John was about his positions, he truly valued hearing all sides and was a good listener.” 

Sen. McCain Leaves Complicated Political Legacy published first on Miami News

[myfunkybdaytv]

Obasanjo Vs Awujale: A Delayed Showdown – By Azu Ishiekwen

Obasanjo Vs Awujale: A Delayed Showdown – By Azu Ishiekwen

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The book is nearly seven years in print but I didn’t get a hold of it until sometime last year. Someone very close, whom I had told I wanted to interview Kabiyesi Oba Sikiru Adetona, had sent a copy over to me in Abuja. He advised me to read the book before the interview.

I have since read the autobiography – Awujale – twice and was not disappointed. We have SaharaReporters to thank for an excerpt that removed the pin from the grenade. Anyone who has read Awujale might agree that it was a bomb waiting to explode.

The surprise is why it took so long.

In 17 chapters of lucid, clear-as-crystal writing in 275 pages, Adetona shares insights of his odyssey from the time he left Nigeria to study accounting abroad to his totally unexpected ascension to the throne at age 26; and from deeply personal family feuds to his adventure as Oba and businessman, and then from his deposition and return to his involvement in some of the momentous events in Nigeria’s contemporary political history.

In a number of instances, the details and candour were unsparing, with no room for indulgence, even for the Oba himself. For former President Olusegun Obasanjo though, it seems like a delayed time bomb.

I can understand Obasanjo’s anger and his concern to, in his words, “set the record straight,” especially in the part of the book brought to his attention that gave the impression that he maliciously disliked the Oba’s cousin and chairman of Globacom, Mike Adenuga; that he has interest in Obajana Cement Factory, and that he sometimes interfered with – or even misused – the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) on his watch.

If those who called Obasanjo’s attention to the book nearly seven years after an excerpt of it was published wanted to do him a favour, they should have given him a copy of the book to read first. That way he might not only have been obliged to respond, at great length, to the Adenuga part alone. He would also have had the benefit of knowing in full what Adetona said about him, especially his years in power.

From the book, the Oba appears to have formed his opinion of Obasanjo long before Adenuga applied for a GSM license, or before S.O. Bakare (mostly known by the name of his car marketing company, Oluwalogbon Motors) contributed to Obasanjo’s election campaign.

On page 174 of Awujale, for example, Adetona described Obasanjo as “a Judas” among the Yoruba, a name he called him twice in the book, the second time, according to him, straight in his face at a private meeting between the two of them in Aso Rock when Obasanjo was testing the waters for a third term.

In fact, on page 181, Adetona said he told Obasanjo that the former president was “no longer credible” even before he started his second term, in the presence of former Ogun State Governor Segun Osoba.

At least two recorded incidents appear to have shaped Adetona’s harsh impression of Obasanjo. It was Obasanjo, he said, who first tried to get the former executive secretary of the Economic Commission for Africa, Professor Adebayo Adedeji, to contest to succeed former military president, General Ibrahim Babangida, in 1991.

Adetona was initially opposed to the idea – as was Adedeji – because he said he thought Adedeji would be unable to find the money to run. But Obasanjo persisted and even travelled all the way to Addis Ababa twice to persuade Adedeji to run. He reportedly told Adetona not to worry about the money; that he, Obasanjo, would find it.

One thing led to another and it didn’t come off. It is not clear whether Obasanjo failed to keep his promise or whether Adedeji pulled out solely because Babangida out-manoeuvred politicians at the time.

Obasanjo’s lukewarm – some would even say hostile – attitude to M.K.O. Abiola’s victory at the June 12 poll, and the way he undermined Ernest Shonekan and canvassed an interim government, which he wanted to head, appear to have particularly annoyed the Oba.

Recalling what he said during one of the meetings he hosted in the early days of the Peoples Democratic Party and the Alliance for Democracy, Adetona said after telling the parties plainly that the next president must be a Yoruba man and one chosen by the Yoruba themselves, “I added further that I was giving the warning because I was aware that a ‘Judas’ had been found among the Yoruba, whom they (the Hausa-Fulani elements in the PDP) were trying to impose on us.”

He continued: “When they asked me who this Judas was, I replied that it was Olusegun Obasanjo.”

Obasanjo’s four-page reply to the Awujale did not cover this part of the book. It’s either his attention had not been called to it or he deliberately decided to focus on what he considered the most potentially damaging part. It may also well be that having grown a thick skin to public criticisms, he had come to terms with the ‘Judas perception’.

But as I said, Awujale is not a whitewash. Unlike what anyone who has read any of Obasanjo’s books, especially My Watch, would find, Adetona documented his own foibles, including how he bought a Benz on a whim; how he is a more successful grandfather than he was a father; how he almost killed himself with cigarettes, and the painful and distrustful relationship he had with his own brother.

He reserved a shaft or two for Chief Obafemi Awolowo with an honesty that grips you, and acknowledged with humility that even though he backed the wrong horse in the Ogun State governorship race in 1999 against Segun Osoba, he did so out of conviction.

Awujale is also not all bile for Obasanjo. Apart from acknowledging the role Obasanjo played in fixing one of the major roads to his domain, Adetona also recalled that it was Obasanjo who settled the rift between him and former Governor Bisi Onabanjo, the man who despised and dethroned him.

Who to believe?

Among Yoruba Obas in the last 50 years, the Awujale is one man who earned respect for speaking the inconvenient truth, even when it seemed dangerous to do so. He stood up to General Sani Abacha and his shenanigans, fought his dethronement in court and won, and never shied away from a fight, even with his subjects.

It didn’t mean he was always right, but you were never in doubt where he stood.

In a way, you could say the same of Obasanjo, except that he stands only where his personal interest lies – it’s Obasanjo first and last, and that makes him predictable.

In the rage of the controversy, not a few might be tempted to think that the book is about who owns Obajana Cement Factory, Obasanjo’s ingratitude to old friends, and his capricious use of power.

It’s all of that and more. For its detail and clarity, the book reminds me of the autobiography of the late Oba of Benin, Omo N’Oba Erediauwa, “I remain, Sir, Your Obedient Servant.”

Awujale is one of the most forthright accounts of the personal odysseys of a traditional ruler who through longevity and other circumstances of life has earned immortality.

It will take more than a woolly four-page letter coming seven years later to undermine the value of the book.

Ishiekwene is the MD/Editor-In-Chief of The Interview and a board member of the Paris-based Global Editors Network.

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Dare Gbadebo www.naijaonlinetv.co.uk

Author: Dare Gbadebo is the publisher with the trademark darebaba.net is a versatile writer who had his media training based on photography at PEFTI film institute and has written for many top media houses in Nigeria. Stay tuned for your favorite celebrity news political updates and paparazzi. Darebaba on social media Facebook | Instagram | Google+

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Obasanjo Vs Awujale: A Delayed Showdown – By Azu Ishiekwen Obasanjo Vs Awujale: A Delayed Showdown - By Azu Ishiekwen