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jamiedc-they-them · 4 years ago

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The Little Things (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: “Could you please do an agents of shield x reader in season 4 when the reader got taken by Aida early in the season and was replaced with an Lmd so when daisy and jemma are escaping the base and coulson is chasing them the reader is with may and sacrifices herself with her. So when daisy and jemma find her in the framework it’s just sad and a happy reunion?”

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Anniversaries where weird, they came around every year and yet you were expected to do something different for them; maybe a party or going out for the night or whatever.

There were different kinds too; Birthdays, holiday seasons, time since abandonment/ death.

Wait, what?

Daisy had been celebrating the last and final time she had been abandoned and sent back to sent back to the orphanage. At least that one made her runaway and meet you guys.

Speaking of you guys, she was currently looking at a photo of you and your father that you had in your room. She knew that the death of him still weighed on you heavily. She had wanted to find you and try and provide some comfort but had instead found an empty room with that photo.

“Hey,” Daisy said in greeting to her scientist best friend. Jemma looked at her with a smile in greeting, “Have you noticed anything different about Y/N?” Jemma furrowed her eyebrows in thought at the question.

“I’m….not too sure. I haven’t seen her much. Maybe she’s busy.” Jemma suggested, but Daisy could tell her friend was now trying to piece it together.

“I mean, sure. But, with what? We’re all trying to stop the Watchdogs here. To my knowledge, there’s not much else going on really.

“There she is.” Daisy said, moving over to you when you entered the lab in a more dejected fashion, “Hey, Y/nn.” She said, giving you a friendly smile.

Yours was timid, but it was expected, “Hey.” You said in your naturally soft voice.

Daisy fought the urge to look back to Simmons, despite knowing her friend’s eyes were on you both like a hawk, “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something….Are you ok?” She was blunt, both because she didn’t have another way to phrase it, and she just genuinely wanted to know what was hurting another of her best friends.

She knew Jemma was the same when someone she cared about was hurting, so she knew the British woman would back her up if needed.

You went to answer, but your eyes glossed over a little. She turned to see who it was, only to see Coulson talking to Simmons.

When Daisy looked back to you, she saw you gulp back those tears that had piled up. It was then that it hit her on what the issue was.

She softened her eyes and posture as it hit her, “Oh, Y/nn.” She said in a softened voice, as if not to scare a wounded animal.

“I’m sorry.” You said, as if at fault. But you had a slight laugh at the end of it, even if a teary one.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for! We should’ve noticed –”

“It’s ok.” You assured her, but you could tell she didn’t fully believe it, “Daisy, I’m fine, really. It’s just a thing I’m going through. I’m not just this, you know.” You told her. You then left, not wanting to be reminded of your dad any longer.

She watched you leave, but her gaze was worried. She was older, so it was her job to look out for you. She knew how you could be at times.

It had been a few days since that time, and the sister figures had done a decent job of dealing with this latest issue while also helping you deal with your own. Or, rather, they thought they had been.

They both watched as you walked with more of a confident one. Don’t get them wrong, they were kind of glad to see it. But they couldn’t help the nagging feeling they both seemed to share when they met each other’s gazes with a look.

The look that conveyed that both thought something was wrong. They just weren’t sure on what that was.

“She seems….happy.” Daisy didn’t really have another way to put it. Part of her did feel a little envois of it.

Fitz, seemingly realising this, approached her and put a hand on her shoulder, “Maybe she’s found some peace with it. Grieving is different for everyone.” He reminded her, gently. Trying not to cross a line that had been drawn in the sand the second Lincoln had died.

She put a hand on Fitz’s, squeezing it. She did appreciate her brother’s attempt at comfort, really, “I know….it’s just, I didn’t expect it this quick.” She admitted.

Jemma couldn’t help the nod, “Y/N always feels before she acts. She never did leave things on the best of footings.” She didn’t exactly want to talk about this behind your back. But, the three seemed to agree one thing, anyway.

This flip of yours wasn’t normal.

It was later still, and everything was falling apart. Jemma and Daisy’s hunch was right, you were an LMD (a Life Model Decoy. A robot version of yourself essentially) and so where most of the team. Everything was spiralling. But none so more than Jemma Simmons.

The woman had just ‘killed’ the love of her life in a bid of survival. Daisy had watched it happen, the two sisters at each other’s throats for a moment. However, they soon realised that they were all that was left of the crew and were the only ones capable of bringing everyone else back.

“Hey, Jem, we will get Y/N back, alright? I promise you.” She said, firmly standing by that belief.

“I can’t lose you, either of you, Daisy! Please don’t do this!” Jemma begged one of her sister figures, the one she could save right now to not risk it all and die.

“I made you a promise Jemma, ok? Now, I can’t get out of here without your help. But, once we do, we will find the others. We will find Y/N and we will bring her home.”

She held out a hand for Jemma, one that was then clasped as the two rose up off of the floor, “We got this.” She assured her.

She was sure of it; she was going to bring you all home.

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Jemma and Daisy had met you at the same time, on the BUS when the team was first formed. You had been with SHIELD for a while, but you always seemed to be a background extra type of agent, you just kept your head down and did the work.

This would be your first time as a main and in the spotlight.

Skye was new, thrown into the deep end and told to swim. So far, she had managed to, barely. But, barely being above water was always more preferable than being under it and drowning.

When she saw you, though, she saw someone else who was slightly over in their head and out of their element. Hell, even the people she’d come to see as the siblings she never had (Fitzsimmons, but that list included you) seemed it as well.

Still, you succeeded in your mission, bringing Mike Peterson in non-lethally. However, it was what happened after that made Daisy want to befriend you both.

It wasn’t just that you both shared the same sense of humour, or that Jemma was one of the kindest souls she knew.

No, it was the way you all took care of each other. It was the way Jemma seemed to notice that you were a bit shaken. So, in her own awkward way that she had back then, she took you into the lab and helped calm you by injecting you with something to calm you with.

She then sat with you and got to know you, letting you rant and get it all out of your system. However, what made Daisy smile the most was the way she didn’t mind; she was more than wiling to lend an ear.

Who was there to talk to Skye when she relapsed a little with some of her old coping mechanisms? Jemma.

Who was there to pick her up when she fell or failed at a thing Ward wanted her to do? You were.

Who was there when you had a panic attack or had a depressive episode? They were.

Your sister hood was born through all of those factors.

They had released the sleeping gas, and it had worked on some of the agents. Other than that, it had alerted everyone else to their presence.

LMD Mace (the new face of SHIELD) made a b-line for Daisy. She didn’t mind, she was more then ready to kick fake-Mace’s ass anyway. It would help her vent her frustration over this whole mess anyway.

Plus, she knew it was something you’d do, it was a trick you’d picked up from the academy; to channel your pain and anger into your opponents, but not letting it rule and ruin you.

Still, pain was pain and pain hurt. It especially hurt more when the emotional turned physical. For her, it was when she was shot in the back by LMD Coulson, then by LMD Mack. Two of her closest friends coming to bring an end to her.

No, she had the real versions to save. She had a family to bring back home.

So, she channelled all that pain and hurt; the abandonment and scars she had endured and gathered over her time before she met you all, and put it into her Quake that sent the both flying backwards and threw the glass, shattering that that wasn’t already in that state.

Slowly, she got to her feet. She was bleeding from the bullet wounds, but also the scratches and bruises were finally catching up with her. She made her way to the door, having to lean against the doorway to steady herself.

As she did, Jemma noticed her and helped guide her to the cart they were pushing. They then hatched a vague plan of Agent Davis flying them out. He hadn’t had much experience, but she didn’t care at this point.

Daisy hit the floor, groaning as she did so. A hand was offered to her, she took it graciously. Once she was up, she faced you once again, “Neat trick, where’d you learn that one?” She asked. The trick in question was a bit of foul play in terms of getting your opponent on the ground. Something SHIELD definitely would frown upon.

“Dad.” You said, wanting to leave it at that.

Daisy, with her experience of parents, nodded and let it go, “He would always take me out to a place like this and train me. Told me it’d help calm me when I was anything but. He only did it when he saw that I was getting stressed, though.”

“No other time other than that?”

“No other time. I got myself through those one’s though.” You said with a cheery smile. Daisy mirrored it, but it wasn’t as bright.

‘You shouldn’t have had to, though’ she thought to herself.

One obstacle she didn’t bank on (or want to) deal with, was LMD you. However, it seemed you were a packaged deal in his one; with LMD you came LMD May.

And, with that deal, came a remote detonator in your hands.

“Y/N….May.” She said, brain working overtime to try and find a way out of this that didn’t involve getting blown up, “You don’t wanna do this.” She said, opting on that one.

“We have no other option.” LMD you said, “Coulson told us to stay here and stop you if you tried to leave, we’re doing just that.”

“But you don’t want to hurt us, right?” Jemma asked, trembling smile on her face as she looked between you both.

“Coulson says that doesn’t matter.” LMD May replied with.

“That doesn’t sound like Coulson.” Daisy argued.

“Either way, we won’t have to regret this decision.” May said, putting her finger closer to it.

“Wait!” Daisy called out, “You have to feel something.” She tried.

“Y/N, I need you to look at me,” You complied, “You have to feel something right now, right?” She was tired, oh so tired. But she was so close.

She saw something glimmer in your eye, “Something.” You agreed.

“That’s love, Y/N. That’s love for us and the team, you’re family. I know you care about us, and that you don’t want to hurt us. Please Y/N….” She watched you as the conflict in you grew and grew.

They made their way up the ramp, Daisy almost collapsing as Jemma held her, shouldering her weight. She was bleeding badly, borderline passing out.

However, she had bought them the time they needed to start up the Quinjet and have it rise out just as the explosions rocked the base, “Thank you Y/N….I’m coming.” She said in a tired voice as she gulped, finally processing the fact that her plan had worked.

She found you sat in an unused Quinjet (something she’d then do herself much later on in time) and just sitting there. You were spaced out, as something had clearly hurt you.

Jemma was sat next to you, hand holding your own as you seemed to hold it like a lifeline, your head rested on her shoulder. Her head rested atop your own.

She made her way over, sitting on your other side and grabbing your other hand. She didn’t ask the cliché question; she just held your hand.

“My dad……he -- he….” You couldn’t get through it without choking on the words. However, it was all Jemma and Daisy needed to know as they both tightened their hold on your hands.

“We’ve got you.” Daisy promised you, “You have us.”

“….I know, thank you both. You guys being the closest things I’ve had to sisters and you’re all the closest thing I’ve had to a stable family.” You said, giving them all a teary smile. They mirrored it.

“Of course, that’s what friends are for.” Jemma pulled you both into a hug at the words.

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The framework was a world that they, obviously, didn’t know. They were outsiders here, having to adapt to a new world that they barely knew the rules of.

What they did know, was that HYDRA were in control and all of their friends were scattered all over the place.

So, they were off to a great start, it seemed.

Daisy had found May, but quickly learnt that the woman didn’t know anything about the other world. She was then called into a meeting. Following May, she found someone else she was looking for. That being you.

You were quieter in this world. You didn’t seem to really have any friends, you seemed to just keep to yourself.

She sat down in the chair and listened to the briefing, but you ignored her gaze as it flickered to you every now and then.

As she did what she could to really pay attention to the briefing on the target, she couldn’t help but wonder one thing: where you always like this? Was this a side to you she either didn’t know about or didn’t want to acknowledge?

You had, obviously, been in the field for longer than Daisy had. Still, she saw the way you handled yourself on the field like any other agent. They were still pieces of the person she saw, though, the friend she had made and the sister she had grown to know and love. It was in the blush you’d get at praise, or the way you would always give her an encouraging look whenever she was send off on a mission.

She had been found out trying to help Mack, only to find that he was forced into going with what she said. It had led to her being the cell.

AIDA had walked in, trying to offer a life with Lincoln. As much as she wanted it, she knew it wouldn’t be worth letting the rest of you all die. Lincoln wouldn’t want that.

So, AIDA tried something else, “You know….that Y/N sure is a tricky person to work out,” She smirked at the way Daisy fixed her with a dark look, “So many layers to unpack. Seemed her father was just the tip of the iceberg.” She seemed to enjoy the taunting.

“Leave her out of this.” Daisy tried to muster up as much hate as she could, but the beatings had taken it out of her.

AIDA, however, seemed a bit impressed, “Still got it, don’t you? That fire and spark, yet a caring and protective side as well?”

“If you touch even one hair on her head –”

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t hurt her. She’s living without her regret of opening up,” Daisy looked shocked at the news, “That’s right, she wished she was a little less open. Now, I wouldn’t have gone with that with everything she’s been through. But people can be surprising.” AIDA then got up, “Hope he doesn’t kill you.” With that, she walked away.

She was left in the hands of Fitz, hands that used to be caring but now were used for hurting. The darkness that Fitz had always struggled with had come to the surface, and this one seemed to relish in it.

She was alone, clinging onto what life was left within her. She was, at least, until the doors opened. Looking up, she saw not only May, but you as well.

A moment later, she had her powers back and the three of you were breaking out. She sent AIDA through the glass and looked at the body on the floor with a sense of triumph.

You were here, and you were on her side. Don’t get her wrong, she was happy May was too. But May wasn’t the name used to make her give into AIDA’s demands.

Turns out the robot was wrong, which Daisy was thankful for.

The way back was met with danger, but what was new? Well, mainly your cynicism.

They were talking about the Patriot (Mace’s alter ego in this world) having been killed in an airstrike. As you spoke about it, May revealed some key information on it. That being that it was her who had caused the death.

“You couldn’t have known.” Daisy comforted, looking at you as if expecting the same.

“She did, but she did it anyway.” She definitely didn’t expect that. May, however, nodded at it.

Seemed the cold and warmth you both had was swapped to a degree.

“What?” You asked her, finally confronting her on her staring and look she was giving you.

“Nothing.” She said, looking away.

You made it to the TV station, going in and uploading the footage May had that would put HYDRA in the ground.

When Daisy left the room after her talk with Ward, she saw you looking at the footage with an expression of anger. She approached you, “What’s wrong?” She asked as she came beside you.

“My dad was killed by HYDRA, turns out,” You said bluntly. Daisy was lightly taken aback by it, you had never been like that before in this type of fashion, “And only now am I just hearing about it.”

“I’m sorry.” She offered in a heartfelt gesture to try and find the sisterly bond you had back home.

You shook your head, “Yeah, well, I’m more pissed at just finding out now than the event itself. We were never the closest, so….” You said in a flat tone.

“Family is family.”

“Sure.” She could tell you just wanted to move on. So, she let that request be followed through with.

You had made it back to the base, where Daisy reunited with Jemma. She had a large smile when she saw that it was you, pulling you in for a hug. You may not have known who she was, but you returned it, for her sake. She seemed like she could need it if she was honest.

She pulled away, seemingly giving you a once over with a beaming smile at the fact you were there. As said, you didn’t know who she was, but this meant something to her, so you just let her have this moment.

Daisy and the team where waiting for you at the entrance to the base, you were coming home from a few months of undercover work and they all stood eagerly awaiting you.

The door had opened, but they had gotten their hopes up before only to be disappointed before. Still, they looked, and this time it was you.

You had a conflicted look on your face, but a smile was on your face as your eyes went glassy. Daisy was right over, embracing you, one you returned tightly.

“This is new.” She joked, in reference to how tightly you hugged.

“Just….I need this.” She complied with it, tightening her own hug as well.

Her family was whole once again, that was all that mattered.

She was then arguing with Jemma about how they unfortunately couldn’t save Fitz, when she said something that she wasn’t meant to, “We need to get everyone out first! Then we can save Fitz! Look, this Y/N isn’t the one we know, Jemma. I need my sister back the way she was.” She didn’t even think about it, she just wanted to get you all back home and get her family back.

However, at a scoff, they both looked and saw you stood a small distance away, clearly having heard those words as you shook your head.

“So, what, I’m the broken one?” You didn’t even give her a chance as you then walked away. Jemma took a shaky breath as she looked to Daisy, the two sister’s having a silent discussion about who should see you.

In the end, it was Jemma who had left.

Daisy sat on one of the spare beds, mind racing with thoughts of how to proceed. She knew that you guys needed to know eventually that this place wasn’t real, but she didn’t expect you to find out like that. Hell, she definitely didn’t expect the reaction she got from you, the scoff, and the look of anger.

A moment later, however, you came and sat next to her. She almost didn’t believe it, that you were here. But she only waited for you to talk. Now, she expected anything.

“So….was I like a square peg in ‘the real word’?” You asked, keeping your eyes straight ahead, but you decided to just be blunt in this moment.

Daisy chuckled a bit, lowering her head to the ground as she did so, “Yeah, or I thought you were anyway. Stupid, huh?” She chastised herself.

“Nah,” Now you both met eyes, “You….I only showed you part of who I was. But, there’s more to me than my dad’s death. I appreciate the help that you apparently gave me there, I do really appreciate it. But, that’s not the only thing I’ve got going on. Just like I’m sure that you’ve suffered a lot more than you’ll ever let on, which I respect not wanting to go into. But, there’s to us then one thing.”

She nodded, “I know, and I’m sorry that I did that. I just wanted to help.”

“I know you did, but I’m not always going to be that sad person you need to protect. I can do that myself, just like you can too.” You told her.

“Ok.” She said, finally letting herself believe it that she didn’t know everything about you.

She then moved it onto the issue at hand, “So….now you know….What do you think?” She asked.

You gave it some thought, “Oh, you know, it’s out there. Then again, most things here have been.” You gave her one of your soft smiles that she was used to.

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So, you had come around to it, and you were now all packing up to leave through a backdoor that Doctor Radcliff (one of the creators of this place) had left for you all to get out.

Now, you just had to get to that place. So, you all got the crew together, boarded the Quinjet, then went to that place.

That place was a factory, but you weren’t one to judge. Or, rather, this version of you wasn’t? Maybe? You didn’t know, no one had really told you. All you knew was that Jemma had approached this version of you the way you were here, which was nice.

On the way, Daisy had started to do that, you saw it was a pain and struggle, but she was trying. That was all you could thank her for.

You all entered the warehouse, with the gateway being a drop into lava. Not the best exit, but a way out was a way out.

Mack had then found out, and he wasn’t exactly taking it well. Like, not well at all. You, however, kept an eye out, it was going too well.

And it was, as HYDRA agents stormed the place and fired at you all. You all went for cover as you did what you could to keep them off Daisy as she held out her hand, her power opening the portal.

As you all did what you could, members slowly went through; May and Coulson were first, then a bleeding Fitz and Jemma, then it was all of you that were left.

As you made your way to it, a bullet struck you, taking you to the ground. Daisy wanted to stop and run over, but she then saw the look in your eyes that told her one thing; keep going.

You were bleeding, and you weren’t doing great on the moving department at first, but you then started to. Mack was still covering you, even grabbing your gun as a backup.

As you moved and Mack covered, she took a breath before putting her hand back out as the power left her hands again a hit the portal.

As it opened, she checked on you again. She knew some part of you would want help, but right now that part wasn’t the one that was there. This was the one that cared more about others, the one that let them be helped instead of you.

You finally made it to the portal, you gave her a look, “See you on the other side.” She smiled at you. Then, you fell into it.

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You were all out, and AIDA was defeated. You all sat at a bar, with your family. Daisy looked at your food, different from what you’d normally get.

“Look at you, being all reckless.” She joked.

“Maybe for today, sure.”

She smiled and shook her head. She didn’t know what else you had to show her that was new, but she was willing to see. She knew people couldn’t just be codified and put in a box. People were different, they grew and changed.

#agents of shield imagine #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d imagine #daisy johnson x reader #daisy johnson imagine

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josephloegering · 3 years ago

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The tumbling Pagan Rootless Christmass Trees

The Antisemitic Democratic Maccabees Catholic Dr Anthony Fauci and the Pagan Communist Medias, forcing upon us their Antisemitic Democratic Maccabees Catholic State's fake Jew and fake Christian Pagan Holidays, polluting the Earth and the Waters, and our Foods and Drinks, causing Global Climate Change, with their Toxic Poison Crude Oil byproducts, their so High Priced Plastic and Synthetic Toys for under the Pagan Popes rootless Christmass Trees, that unlike the mass numbers of suicides because of the previous Pagan Holidays, the mass numbers of suicides are so normal to them, they say get Vaccinated to have normal Holiday Season, begging People to donate Kidneys for their failing Kidneys, and demanding other to die to donate them Hearts and Livers, because their Toxic Poison Flu and COVID Vaccines destroyed theirs.

I am the Mighty El Yah, that they call Elijah, I am Yah Joseph Yahweh's Messiah, the root from Jesse, the Lion the Tribe's Judah's, the root unto the Trees Yahweh's, the Prophet alike unto Moses, all that stumbled upon me, tumble unto their graves

Yahweh's tumbled his from the Rabbi's contesting his upon him, thundered Yahweh, judged the end mine, the Earth's, and granted the goat unto the King's his, and exalted the horn, the Messiah his

יהוה יחתו מריבו עלו בשמים ירעם יהוה ידין אפסי ארץ ויתן עז למלכו וירם קרן משיחו

1 Samuel 2:10

The Plastics and Synthetics in their FDA approved Toxic Poison Vaccines and Toxic Poison Drugs and in the FDA approved Toxic Poison Foods and Drinks, are destroying their memories and their Kidneys so fast, most don't live long enough to suffer and die among the skyrocketing Hundreds of thousands, on their Dialysis Machines, because of the Toxic FDA's Toxic Vaccine and Toxic Drug and ad Toxic Food and Toxic Drink Additives, that they refused to stop forcing upon their own Peoples, poisoning their Immune Systems, which no matter how many unnatural Antibodies that Vaccines make them produce, their FDA poisoned Immune Systems, eventually fail, and causes the extremely Contagious Vaccine Breakthrough Delta COVID-19 Infections, and causes them to get infected with diverse extremely deadly Contagious Pathogen Infections.

שנה וחצי אחרי שתרם כליה - השר חילי ליווה את אחיו שתרם גם הוא

A year and a half after donating a kidney - Minister Hili accompanied his brother who also donated

https://tinyurl.com/95nuwhyw

The robust Antibodies caused by the fraud Flu and COVID Vaccines that block no Virus from Infecting the People, like real vaccines do, the robust Antibody activity is not targeting any Virus, they are targeting Body Cells, causing the escalating numbers Autoimmune System disorders to rise as fast as they vaccinate People, these Numbers of the Leading Causes of Death besides the runaway COVID-19 pandemic, and the runaway Influenzae pandemic, are skyrocketing because the fraud Vaccines are blocking no Virus from infecting the Body, as the Antibodies that fraud Vaccines produced are destroying Body Organs

Heart disease: 659, 041.

Cancer: 599, 601.

Accidents (unintentional injuries): 173, 040.

Chronic lower respiratory diseases: 156, 979.

Stroke (cerebrovascular diseases): 150, 005.

Alzheimer's disease: 121, 499.

Diabetes: 87, 647.

Nephritis, nephrotic syndrome, and nephrosis: 51, 565.

The Anti American Antisemitic Democratic Communist fake Jews and fake Christians and fake Muslims are running the Medias and US Government. On all the Tests that the Minneapolis VA Allergist ran, when he looked at my Medical Records, he said, "I seen this before, I give it a 49% chance that it is an allergy, and 51% chance the it is a Metabolic Disorder, I will not know which, until run the Allergy Tests" and when he ran all the Food Tests, but there were no Tests for any of the Crude Oil Product Additives in all the Medications and Vaccines and Foods and Drinks that out me in the ERs repeatedly, and the Minneapolis VA Allergist said it was not an Allergy, because I produced no IgE antibodies, and the Orthopedics Doctors said it was not Lupus, because I produce no lupus erythematosus (SLE) Anti- Smith Antibodies, and they said it was an Overactive Immune System, and when on my Hebrew Torah's Daniel's Diets that has no Egg Phosphates or D-Fructose Compounds or Sugar Alcohols or Beta-Glucans or Maize Cornstarch or Yeast or Yeast Extracts, all my blood and urine levels are normal, and because all my blood and urine levels are normal when on my Kosher Diet, CNN's TV Brainwashed Doctors and Metabolic Doctor lie with their flawed and false Sciences, saying it is not a Metabolic Disorder, because all my blood and urine levels are normal when on my Kosher Diet, and the they say that benefits of force drugging me to assimilate me into the Modern Democratic Society outweigh the risks of permanently disabling or killing me with the adverse reactions, and repeatedly put me in the ERs throwing all blood and urine levels like an Allergy so that VA Allergist said that I need sue them for repeatedly throwing all my blood and urine levels off like allergy

Repeatedly the News Media CNN and Politicians, had Judges and Doctors disable me, and many others, and murdered many of us, refusing both our Medical Rights and our Religious Rights, to refuse their Drugs, Vaccines, and Foods, and Drinks, that they kept forcing upon us, to force upon us their Antisemitic Democratic Politics, using Violence of guns, and shackles, and mace, and cuffs, and forced drugs and straight jackets, to repeatedly locking us up, for force drugging with everything on the allergy lists, repeatedly disabling or murdering us, saying that we cannot have a Public Trial, because we committed no Crime, like their Criminals, and must be repeatedly locked up, saying that we cannot live by Moldy Old Scriptures, and must be repeatedly force drugged, to assimilate us into their Modern Society, that repeatedly saying, that the benefits of forcing upon us the Drugs on the allergy List in our Medical Records, outweigh the Risks of disabling and or killing us, by the adverse reactions, and the US Government and Medias, blocking our Just Issues from their Medias, repeatedly refused to hear and Redress our Just Grieves, and armed and are still arming against us unarmed Hebrew Torah abiding Jews and Samaritans, our Antisemitic Democratic Soviet Communist Maccabees Zionist fake Jew enemies, refusing both my Medical Rights and my Religious Rights, to refuse their Drugs, Vaccines, and Foods, and Drinks, that repeatedly threw all my so the Minneapolis VA Allergist said that I need to sue them, for throwing all my blood and urine levels off like an allergy, and 50 Laws refused to sue them because they said it would Cost too much, the five Presidents and five Vice Presidents failed to Redress our Just Grievances to include the current Antisemitic Hate Crime Criminal Vaccinator President Joe Biden, that at as Vice President wrote me about the Matter, and Redressed noting, but made the Medical Communities attack me more and more violently, Daniel objected to the King's Provisions on both Medical and Religious grounds, and we demand the same Creator Granted Rights, among these unalienable Rights, being destructive of these Rights, the Rights to Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness, as the Whole Earth knows, and sees, that suchlike People denying us the Medical Rights and the Religious Rights, to refuse their Drugs, Vaccines, and Foods, and Drinks, the whole Candid Earth sees that they have lost all credibility, and are not worthy to rule among Mankind

The Antisemitic Democratic Fascist Right Wing are not the Government, like Antisemitic Industrialists from Nazi Germany, against the Antisemitic Democratic Left Wing Soviet Communist Big Government, and the US the Antisemitic Fascist Right Wing, calls themselves the US Cooperate Medias like CNN, and MSNBC, and CBS, and Facebook and Twitter, and the Cooperate Sports Leagues, and the Airlines, and the Cooperate Manufacturers, and the Cooperate Restaurants, saying that they are not the Government, and say that they have to Right like Industrialists of Nazi Germany, saying that they have the Right to censor us Jews and Samaritans, while jeopardizing the Public's Welfare for their own Political and Economic Gains, promoting their Toxic Poison Fraud Vaccines, and promoting their Antisemitic Democratic Evolutionist Schools and Colleges, that as US Government they censored out our Hebrew and Chaldee Scriptures saying that must have separation of Church and State, and they keep promoting their Antisemitic Democratic Doctrines, and to get us attacked and murdered like Nazi Germany, as the Cooperate Medias saying that we have no Medical or Religious Rights to refuse their Toxic Poison Fraud Flu and COVID Vaccines, that take block none from getting infected with any Virus like the real Vaccines for Mumps and Measles and Polio and Smallpox, and they lie claiming that their Toxic Poison Fraud Flu and COVID Vaccines are real Vaccines, saying that they have the Right to mandate upon us their Toxic Poison that unlike Moses and Daniel's diet, throw our blood and urine levels off repeatedly, disabling and or murdering us like Nazi Germans, because they say that we have no Medical or Religious Rights to refuse their Toxic Poison Vaccines and Drugs and Foods and Drinks

Them Deadly dangerous Psychotic Vaccinator Snake Oil salesmen Politicians from the house the thief's, and their paid Satan's Deadly dangerous Psychotic synagogue washed up Medias, and their Deadly dangerous Psychotic washed up Doctors and Dieticians, and their Deadly dangerous Psychotic washed up opposing Right and Left Wing Political Activists, are still making the violent overwhelming unstoppable Global Climate Changes worse and worse, by still using the British's, Margaret Thatcher's, Al Gore's, their allied BP's, British Petroleum's, flawed and false Greenhouse Gas caused Global Climate Change Sciences, to sell the Snake Oils, and to sell Crude Oil to make Plastics and Synthetics for their Toxic Poison burning, and blown down, and failing Windmill Generators and for their Toxic Poison burning, and blown down, and failing Solar Panel Farms, and for their Toxic Poison burning, and blown down, and failing Power and Water Grids, as that Toxic Space War age pollution is making the violent overwhelming unstoppable Global Climate Changes, bringing Dam Breaks and Flash Floods, and burning, and blown down, and failing Power and Water Grids, from Coast to Coast

All the Deadly dangerous Psychotic Joe Biden's and the Medias, multi Trillion Dollar Climate Control Infrastructure Rebuild, requires more mass amounts of Crude Oil Byproducts called Plastics and Synthetics, more than what caused the drastic unstoppable Climate Changes in the first place, because they are sided with Soviet Communists, destroying America and the fake Jew Zionist State, deliberately lying to the Public, just to stuff their own Pockets at the Public's expense

If you and or a Family Member to Aspirin or Tylenol or Ibuprofen, or Antibiotics, or Pain Killers, or any other Mediation and or any Vaccine, and or Food and or Drink, made from, and or containing Additives, made from Crude Oil, and you got anyone of the Medical Disorders that cause the leading causes of Death, sue the Oil Companies and Drug Manufactures and CDC and FDA, for the harm and death that caused by their Toxic Poison Drugs and Vaccines, and Toxic Poison Foods and Drinks, that Nature never intended for you to eat, or to have injected into you

As they spill more and more Crude Oil, destroying the Earth, to make all the Electric Cars and Golf Carts and Windmills and Solar Panels, come from Plastics, the Byproducts of refining Crude Oil, so that Joe Biden, and the Politicians, and the Medias, and the Climate Control Activists, are deliberately lying to the Public, and deliberately causing Global Climate Change, refining Crude Oil to make Toxic Synthetics and Plastics and Toxic Metal Alloys, as our Hebrew and Chaldee Scriptures did not use Crude Oil or Plastics or the Alloys, and they are causing the drastic unstoppable Global Climate Change with Crude Oil and its Products, as they Pollute the Earth, and the Waters, and the Oceans, changing the Oceans pH and Temperature with unnatural Chemical Reactions, so we demand that their Toxic Space War age Plastic Synthetic and Aluminum Food and Drink Containers, never be recycled for Food and Drink Containers, for our Hebrew and Chaldee Scriptures never use their Toxic Space War age Plastic Synthetics or their Toxic Aluminum for Foods and Drinks, and our Materials never caused Global Climate Change, and they have no recycle Containers for our non Toxic Metals, and Glass, and Pyrex Glass, and White Porcelain, and Pottery, and Leather, that our Hebrew and Chaldee Scriptures uses for Food and Drink Containers.

Modern Marvels: How We Use Oil Everyday (S15, E25) | Full Episode | History

https://youtu.be/oQnw2opVWVk

Here in North Dakota, with only 31 Unvaccinated Hospitalized out of 971 Unvaccinated Infected, and 130 Vaccinated with one shot Hospitalized, out of 3, 297 Vaccinated with one Shot, that Poisoned and Disabled them, and got them Infected, besides the ones the Fraud COVID Vaccine Shots Killed, the US Government and CDC and FDA, and Medias are deliberately lying to the Public, to mass murder their Religious and Political Rivals, to force upon us the Antisemitic Democratic Dictatorship, like Nazi Germans and the Soviet Communists did

4,268 New Infections, 3,279 Vaccinated New Infection, only 971 Unvaccinated with a New Infection, making it so that if you take the Shot, you are more likely to get infected, because the Toxic Poison Fraud COVID Vaccines poisoned your Immune System, as out of 4,268 New Cases, the Hospitalized is 161, minus the 130 Vaccinated Hospitalized, equals 31 Unvaccinated Hospitalized, and out of the 4,268 New Cases, 3,279 are the Poisoned Vaccinated, that were Infected, because they were Poisoned by the Deadly dangerous Psychotic Vaccinators, trying to open their Societies for their own Political Economic Gains at our expense, as the Deadly dangerous Psychotic Vaccinator Politicians, and Journalists, and Doctors, and Sports Athletes, and Hollywood and Bollywood fallen Stars, block from the Unvaccinated what we need to keep from being Infected by their deliberately Poisoned and Infected Vaccinated

My Brother had serious Adverse Reactions to the J&J/Janssen Vaccine, and my Mother had serious Adverse Reactions to Pfizer Vaccine, because the Antisemitic Hate Crime Criminals say that we have no Medical or Religious Rights to refuse their Mandated Vaccines

Along with many they call Jews, many of the Antisemitic Antichrist Democratic Right and Left Wing Soviet Communist Russians and Antisemitic Antichrist Democratic Right and Left Wing Soviet Communist fake Jew Zionist, were poisoned by the Toxic US FDA approved Toxic Additives in the Russian Sputnik V vaccine, and in the Pfizer Fraud COVID Vaccine and un the Moderna Fraud COVID Vaccine

The Soviet Communist lying claiming to be Jews are blocking forensic autopsies on the mass numbers of dead that they call Jews, dying from the Toxic Poison Fraud Vaccines, as the Antisemitic Democratic US and Zionist Medias, use their fraud Doctors, like Dr Jorge Rodriquez that needs to be jailed and tried for his and Medias Antisemitic Hate Crimes and Medical Malpractice, denying us Jews and Samaritan Medical and Religious Rights to refuse to take their Mandated Toxic Poison Fraud Vaccines, that block none from getting Viral Infections, and poisons them, and gets them infected, like their Toxic Poison Fraud Vaccines are doing here in North Dakota

Because of their deep and deepening War Debts, and Stolen Tax Slave monies, like in the US, like in Florida, the Zionist State Buildings are nearing Collapse on People that they call Jews, because the Antisemitic Hate Crime Criminals as mass murderers, they lie claiming to be Jews and Christians as Deadly dangerous Psychotic Vaccinator Snake Oil salesmen Politicians from the house the thief's, and their paid Satan's Deadly dangerous Psychotic synagogue washed up Medias, and their Deadly dangerous Psychotic washed up Doctors and Dieticians, and their Deadly dangerous Psychotic washed up opposing Right and Left Wing Political Activists

בית שמש: תקרה קרסה בבניין בעיר - דייריו פונו מהאזור

מפקד משמרת בכאות והצלה הורה על פינויו המיידי של הבניין בן ה-3 קומות, כאשר בהמשך מהנדס מהטעם העירייה שהוזעק לזירה אישר את ההחלטה. תושבים באזור הורחקו על ידי המשטרה - אין מפגעים

Beit Shemesh: A ceiling collapsed in a building in the city - its occupants were evacuated from the area

A fire and rescue watch commander ordered the immediate evacuation of the three-story building, with a city engineer who was called to the scene later approving the decision. Residents in the area were removed by the police - no hazards

https://tinyurl.com/h3rt22uz

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pathetic-has-been-rockstar · 4 years ago

Text

Finding Warmth

Pairing: Crowely x reader

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Square filled: sharing a bed

Warnings: none

Summary: Chuck is gone, Amara is in charge, and the world is finally free. You're heading to the bunker for the first proper Christmas celebration with Team Free Will, but you're forced to stop along the way. When the former King of Hell shows up, you manage to surprise him, and discover a new side of the demon.

Words: 2644

Beta: @raspberrymama

my work can be found on AO3, here! If you’re interested in the whole series, you just have to click here!

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The road to the bunker is pretty long, and the radio doesn't bring reassuring news. Apparently, there's a snow storm raging somewhere, and the roads aren't going to be open for long.

With a sigh, you peek at your car's clock. It's well past nine, and you're hungry and tired, so you decide to pull over at the first motel sign you see. You book a room, head to the gas station next to the motel and buy a couple of sandwiches, a cupcake and a couple of soft drinks. You're in the mood for some beer, but you're tired enough as it is.

Walking back to your room, you make a call.

“Hey there, Dean!”

“Kid! We were starting to worry. Where are you?” You smile at the concern in his voice. Since Chuck is gone and things have changed, he became almost overprotective in regards to his little found family.

“Still a state over. Snow storm raging, closed lanes. I've managed to snatch the last room in a motel, tomorrow morning things should be better.”

“Crap. I'm sorry. Anything we can do?”

“Nah, don't worry. I'll have some food and hit the bed, it's been a hell of a drive so far”, you quietly thank yourself for being reasonable and driving something maybe less fascinating but definitely more comfortable than the Impala. Dean's voice brings you back shortly.

“Take some rest and stay safe, ok? We'll check in tomorrow, but you keep us updated”.

“Won't miss. Night guys.”

You quickly hang up and walk in your room. It's pretty cold, close to the road, and the bed doesn't look really comfortable, but it still beats the idea of sleeping on some shoulder of the road.

Once you're done with your dinner, you try to turn on the tv, but it doesn't work, just like the heating, apparently. Bored and slightly frustrated, you make yourself a cup of tea using the courtesy set, then pick up your phone and send a text.

A moment later, a familiar British accent rings behind you.

“Hello, darling.”

You turn around in your chair, smiling at the king of Hell. As usual, he's clad in black, looking both impeccable and mildly bored.

“Hello, Crowley. How are you?”

“I'm curious, actually. How can I help my favourite non-hunter on this fair night?”

The day he won't tease you about the fact that you still refuse to label yourself as a hunter will be the day Hell freezes over, probably. You laugh it off, and make your request, hoping he's in a good mood.

“Do you have a way to bring me to the bunker that's not through a snowstorm?”

He tilts his head, looking at you.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I need to get to the bunker, but the snow...”

“Do I look like a bloody taxi service to you?”

Alright, he's not in a good mood. You shake your head, feeling the tiredness of the day washing over you, and you shift a bit in the chair.

“You don't have enough juice anymore, do you?”

He gives you a cold glance, and doesn't even bother denying. He pulls up a chair and sits, stretching his legs under the table and looking at you.

“Why are you in a rush to get there, anyway? As far as I know, the Wonder Brothers are on holiday break.”

“Yes, they are. I'm part of that break.”

He looks surprised, then he pouts for a second before talking, like he does when something doesn't go the way he wants.

“Of course you are. Well... since you summoned me for a stupid request, I'll take advantage of it. Which means... I'm staying here.”

You choke a little at the idea. You're not going to complain about spending a night with him, but the idea of doing it like that, without anything to steal, hunt, or kill just feels a bit weird. It's also the first time that you two spend time together alone after the whole Chuck affair and his return from the Empty.

“The whole night?”

He nods, eyeing the bed with a smirk you know too well.

“You fear we'll run out of things to do, love?”

“Oh, please. It's freezing in here.”

“One more reason to take advantage of the bearer of Hellfire, love.”

You laugh off his swagger and take it for what it is: the very essence of Crowley, and a clear attempt to play his favourite game of making people uncomfortable. Then, you remember something.

“Yeah, sure. Hang on, I gotta pick up something from my car.”

You grab the keys of your car and rush out of the room, leaving a very bemused Crowley behind you.

That's not how he was expecting a nightly summoning to go... nor what he was hoping for. You don't seem particularly interested in replaying that only night in which you fell between his arms, but that doesn't mean he won't play his cards to get there.

He walks to the table and picks up the cup of what looks like tea, but smells like chemicals and bad food colouring, until he hears you stepping back in the room and closing the door behind you.

“Here.”

Crowley raises his nose from your cup of “tea”, which he was curiously smelling, and looks at you with a confused expression.

“... what... what’s that?”

“A box. Inside it, there’s a thing I’d like you to have on my behalf. It’s called a present, or gift. Mortals do this thing of exchanging them at Christmas. Remember that?”

“... you got me a present. A... a Christmas present.”

“Yeah.”

“You... got the King of Hell a Christmas present.”

“Former king of Hell, last time I checked. If you don’t want it I can always take it back, you know.”

Setting the cup back on the counter, Crowley’s stare shifts from your hands holding the box to your face, studying your features. You seem good willed enough.

“I didn’t say that”, he mumbles.

“Well, take it, then. Careful, it’s fragile.”

Crowley finally takes the box from you, brushing your fingers with his ones in doing so, and noticing the slight pink tingeing your cheeks for a moment.

The box is wrapped in brown paper, but you drew a geometric pattern on it, snowflakes-shaped. Then, watching more carefully, Crowley sees a pitchfork here and there in the middle of the snowflakes, and he smiles. You really put some effort in that, and you're glad he seems to appreciate it.

“You surely do have a certain sense of humour, kitten.”

“There’s not a single good enough reason to be dull”, you brush off his compliment, but it surely flatters you.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

With a snap of his fingers, the wrapping paper opens without tearing, making you smile. You stand, awkward, and watch Crowley carefully examining the wooden box in his hands, until he sees the name branded on it. Immediately, he grins. You certainly know him.

“Kitten, of all the surprising things you could have done, this goes easily up in the top ten.”

“I am surprising, after all.”

You shrug, awkward. You're happy that he liked the present, but you keep hoping that he won’t ask you the most obvious question, the one whirring through your mind since you decided to give him one bottle of the finest whisky in the world.

“Indeed. Just... why?”

“One of my clients saw a bottle you left at the store and asked me if I was interested in whisky. I treat him pretty well, so he sent me a couple of these, and I thought you might like it.”

“That's not what I asked.”

“It's just... tradition, you know?”

Crowley shakes his head, carefully setting the bottle on the table of the motel. You both are well aware that what you gave him is rare, coveted, and incredibly expensive. It surely is not a token exchanged to respect a tradition.

“No, it's not. And you put me in a difficult position, now. I haven't gotten you anything.”

You smile, a bit disappointed by the fact that he deemed that present as a formality.

“It's fine, actually. You must be terrible with presents.”

“Pardon?”

“Of course. You were a king, used to being revered and obeyed... when was the last time you gave someone a present, just because you felt like doing it? And don't mention paying Dean's bar tabs, that doesn't count. It must be something you picked out, not a deal.”

Crowley thinks about it for a second, then scoffs. You got him, and yet he's not particularly bothered. There's something in the way you tease him that he really likes. Perhaps it's because you're not scared of him, or maybe because you don't seem conflicted about him. No awkward shuffling and senseless musings about right or wrong. Even after your night together, you simply moved on, like you would have done with any other one-time lover... even if perhaps he didn't exactly appreciate that.

“Alright, kitten, you got me. But I'm sure that, if I had a chance, I could certainly surprise you with a nice present”.

“Ah, now. I gave you something... it's already impossible to be spontaneous.”

“I don't think this game has fair rules.”

You laugh and relax on the uncomfortable chair. “Of course it doesn't. Christmas is a very tactical time of the year. If I surprise you with a present, you will be forced to be nice to me until next Christmas. I'm an evil genius in a very hot body.”

He laughs, his eyes roaming your forms.

“While I can definitely see that... I'm sorry, love, but you lack conviction.”

“Meaning what?”

“I am quite the epitome of the villain... and that speech lacks the necessary emphasis to be believable. In fact, I think you like Christmas quite a lot, and you took real pleasure in giving me something.”

“I've never been so insulted in my life!” you mock him, making him laugh. You've always taken a certain pride in being the one able to make Crowley genuinely laugh, and his humour is one of the things you appreciate most of him.

He snaps his fingers and conjures two crystal glasses from thin air. They're made of crystal, finely etched, and you recognize them as a part of his personal collection, one you've often seen in his hand. He gives you a questioning look.

“... what is it, your highness?”

“I was wondering how upset you'd be if I were to share my present with you.”

You think about it for a second, then solemnly look back at him.

“You know... I think a quality check is in order.”

“Just what I thought. Let's see if mister Gordon and mister MacPhail have honoured fifty years of ageing.”

When Crowley pours you your whisky, you immediately take a deep breath of it, studying the articulate aroma. You rarely had the chance of drinking something this old, and you're always curious about it.

The first note is sweet, like apple and honey, followed by a hint of smoke, and that promise is kept when, after a proper toast with your favourite demon, you indulge your dram. The sweet and thick taste is balanced by a sour note, and it leaves a peaty finish on your tongue. After the first few sips, it's already going to your head, and you lick your lips. The smoky finish reminds you of something similar, far more tempting.

Something that's currently sitting in front of you, telling of a deal he made with the owner of a distillery in the Speyside, a couple of centuries ago. You try to engage in conversation, at first, but time flies, the bottle empties more and more, and pretty soon you're half asleep.

You almost miss his laughter when he stands up and places his hands on your shoulders, helping you up on your feet. You protest weakly, closing your eyes.

“Come on, kitten. Let's get you to bed.”

“... no... I don't want to, it's cold...”

“I'll see to it. Do you trust me?”

The warm voice purring to your ear is a dream, a promise of comfort and warmth that you’re not willing to give up, but you also know you’re not supposed to indulge.

“... I shouldn't...”

“But do you?”

You drop your head on his shoulder, rubbing your face against the fabric of his suits while you nod.

“... yes.”

“And thanks to Christmas magic, this time you won't pay for this mistake.”

Crowley laughs next to your ear while he effortlessly carries you to bed. With a snap of his fingers he takes off your shoes and clothes, substituting them with a comfortable flannel pyjama.

You curl up under the thin sheets, shivering in the cold bed, and close your eyes, trying to relax. You hear another snap of fingers and you feel Crowley slipping in the sheets behind you, wrapping you in a warm embrace.

You'd like to protest, but he's too warm, and you're tired. All you manage to do is let out a muffled sound, before snuggling closer to him and falling asleep right away. You enjoy the best night of sleep you had in months.

The following morning, you open your eyes and, for a second, you don't see anything. It takes you a moment to realize that you must have turned in your sleep, and your face is now pressed against Crowley's chest. One of your arms is folded between you, while the other is draped on his side. You pull back, suddenly awkward, making him laugh. Your breath hitches imperceptibly when you feel the soft rumble shaking his chest, but you hope he didn't notice.

“Morning, love.”

“I... hi. How... how are we... did we...”

Crowley runs a hand through your hair, pulling them away from your face. “We shared the only bed, yes. I think we could have done something more interesting, but you were drunk, and quite exhausted.”

“I wasn't drunk, just... never mind. What time is it?”

“Barely 9. We still have plenty of time to get to the bunker.”

“... we?”

The kiss on your forehead is so light that you wonder if you imagined the light prickle of his beard on your skin, but Crowley lingers there for a moment before answering your question.

“You surely need a copilot to get there in one piece, and you can't die while you're one up on me.”

You finally chuckle and slowly, very slowly, you disentangle yourself from Crowley. One of his hands moves on your side, and his fingers sink in the fabric covering your skin. The shiver running down your back has very little to do with the room temperature.

“... alright, you can come with me, then. Let me just take a shower and...”

“No rush, love. Actually, why don't we...”

Your phone buzzing furiously on the nightstand interrupts Crowley. You give him an apologizing look, then grab your phone and pick the call, groaning.

“Yeah?... yes, Dean, I... alright, sure. Thanks. I'll get going”. You hang up and turn to Crowley, blushing. “He... he heard that the roads are open, but the weather cast says it's snowing again this afternoon. We'd better get on the road.”

Before he can say anything, you stand up, grab your bag and walk into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. On the good side, you're so confused and excited that you barely notice the cold. On the bad side, you're so confused and excited that you almost try to use your mouthwash as skin tonic.

Crowley , still lying on the bed, smirks at the stained ceiling. He's seen how nervous you are around him, and he congratulates himself on his decision to come with you at the bunker. He's never been a fan of holidays, but it looks like things might change soon.

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Thank you for reading! I truly hope you enjoyed this little story. Every kind of feedback is very much appreciated, just as much as likes and reblogs!

Please, do not repost my works or part/s of it on different places, not even if you give credits.

#spnchristmasbingo #reblog #crowley x reader #spnfic #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fluff #christmas fluff #crowley x fem reader

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watchtower-feed · 5 years ago

Text

Mortal Sanity

SSA Request ✧ Joker ✧ Mortality Link @lady-of-fandoms: Aging indicator with the Joker? He found out who his soulmate was, and to gain immortality, had her captured and locked away. Batman and co. find out, and go to save her, but theres a complication, and the Joker sees the reader and starts aging. You can take it from there! Notes: Some graphic gore. I’m so sorry, lady! I changed your request quite a bit. I tried using this request to write a different kind of Y/N. Words: 2,514

When you live in a world full of superheroes, there are worst things than meta human villains, invading aliens, and psychotic clowns. One of them is having a soulmate.

Some say it’s better because your other half is easier to find, but they’re not the one who has a hero or a villain for a soulmate. You do.

You’re old. You’ve been alive since before Gotham. Your family was one of its first British settlers in the late 1600s. You are one of its original founders. You built this city and continue to care for it better than your own family.

Because they kept dying. One by one mortality catches up with them and each funeral strips away part of you, the side of you that grieves and fears death.

Whenever your spouses lay on their deathbed, you only feel disappointed that they weren’t the one. There was no way of knowing until you’ve spent time with them and seen the wrinkles on their skin next to your suppleness.

No one knew much about soulmates at all. Not until one of the three Fate Sisters visited Gotham in the late 19th century. You came across her by chance but to her, it was no accident.

“Your soulmate has not been born yet, child.”

You asked how much longer you had to wait but the Fates only give so little of their time. She didn’t answer and other people had crowded her. It took two world wars before another Fate passed through the city.

“Why are you so eager to meet them? There is still so much to do before your soulmate will be born.”

She was gesturing to the streets of Gotham, littered with people slumped over the gutters, children crying and holding their bellies, and mothers with babes sucking on their tits while they begged for money.

The war never passed through Gotham but its devastation has clawed deep into its foundations and stripped the people of their livelihood. Your eyes and your heart couldn’t take it.

You were the one who held the first meeting of the Court of Owls. You gathered every wealthy Gothamite, from old money to new business owners. The politicians were only later invited as a courtesy.

With the Court at your disposal, you built Gotham from the ground up, quickly turning it into the business capital of the country for anyone hoping to live the American dream.

But as the city’s population grew beyond your control, you had to cut your losses, divide the city into districts, and protect the wealthy. But unbeknownst to you, this was what set off Gotham’s descent into madness and the very creation of your soulmate.

The first sign of everything going wrong was the man dressed as a Bat. But his actions were in alignment with the Court’s will over Gotham and so you let him be. When villains in similar attire started to sprout all over the city, the Bat kept them in check. And so the Court did nothing.

And then the Clown entered the picture, causing devastations all over the city like you’ve never seen before. You watched buildings burn with children still screaming inside them, towers fell on people running amok in the streets, and the horrendous gas that left its stench at every street corner in Gotham.

The Clown is a plague and the Court has decided that he has to go.

After a meeting, you’re met with the final Fate sister. She has been waiting for you.

“Child, you’ve done well. You’ve loved and fostered this city like no other and I am truly misfortuned to be the one to tell you of your soulmate. Fate has been unkind to you.”

Your soulmate is the Joker.

Your knees suddenly go weak and your chest feels tight. Phantom claws are constricting around your heart. What you’ve waited for centuries is finally here and you don’t want it. Take it back.

The Fate sister holds your shoulders, “Stay strong, child. The worst is yet to come. I must tell you about your link.

“For years, you have not only eluded aging but also death. So long as you’re not in your soulmate’s arms, you will never die.”

Immortality is no stranger to you. Mortality even less. But the sudden prospect of knowing that the Clown himself is as immortal as you-- the image that Gotham would be plagued by his madness for eternity-- it terrifies you.

“I need your help.”

You’re standing in one of the meeting rooms of Wayne tower, interrupting a conference between Bruce Wayne and his major shareholders.

“Miss L/N,” Bruce treats you with respect despite your actions. He knows who you are. Knows what you are. “It’s lovely to see you but we are in the middle of something important here. You can make an appointment--”

“I need to talk to your friend,” you stare at Bruce and watch the subtle recognition dawn on his face. “It’s urgent, Bruce.”

You’ve always called him by his last name like you did his Thomas Wayne. It’s how you show your respect for his work and successfully making his father’s company his own. You only ever call him Bruce when you want to remind him that you’re older, much wiser, and more powerful.

Bruce clenches his teeth and shuffles the papers in his hand. He turns to his shareholders and gives them his signature playboy smile. “I apologize. We’re going to have to reschedule. It seems the Queen of Gotham needs me.”

Bruce loosens his tie as he walks around the table of perplexed and annoyed millionaires. He places his hand on your lower back, standing shoulder to shoulder, as he escorts you out of the room and into his office.

With the doors closed and his blazer off, Bruce’s demeanor changes. His eyebrows are no longer arched upwards but slanting down and his smile has been replaced by a deep scowl. His eyes pierce into yours when he turns to you.

“Start talking.”

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at Bruce but quickly unfold them and relax. You didn’t come to fight. “I’m not here on behalf of the Court, Bruce. I’m here as myself.”

Bruce doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t exactly know who you are. He only knows exactly what you want him to know, and what little you allow is only necessary for him to realize that you have Gotham eating from the palm of your hands.

But you’re extending your palm now as you finally reveal to him everything that you are, who you have been, and what you’ve been waiting for. Even Bruce Wayne couldn’t hide the reaction on his face. He’s visibly horrified.

“You’re not immortal, Bruce. But if the Clown kills me, he will be.”

“What’s your plan?”

You grimace at the man behind the Bat. “Why do you think I need your help?”

Being the Queen of Gotham and the leader of the Court of Owls has distanced you from the city. You’ve been watching it from your highrise and no longer know where the streets bend and what the people look like.

You’re ashamed to be asking for help from someone so inferior. But Batman is the best weapon you’ve got against the Clown. He and his little band of eager boys.

“Does the Joker know about your link?”

You turn to Richard Grayson, a child always on the outskirts of the city with no Gotham blood flowing through his veins. “Yes. The Fates has an obligation to humor everyone with links.”

“I’m surprised the Joker didn’t kill her,” Jason Todd snorts. A real child bred and raised by Gotham herself. Through the good and the ugly.

“He tried. But the Fates aren’t human.”

“Really? What are they?” Timothy Drake. Another Gotham child. Middle class with the potential to join the Court. Potential lost to the Bat.

You raise an eyebrow. “None of you have links?”

“Only mindless individuals would believe in such nonsense.”

Damian Wayne.

You can feel each of your muscles tense as you turn to him. Definitely not a Gothamite. “Sounds like something an ignorant person would say.”

“This is enough,” Bruce interrupts.

You brought them to one of the secret bunkers of the Court. Years ago, you had constructed a facility for the truly dire patients of Arkham. Under Bruce’s instructions, you had reinforcements built into it to hold the Joker for eternity.

The boys purse their lips at Bruce’s word and follow him out of the cell. But you’re not one of his wards.

You touch Tim’s shoulder on the way out, “The Fates are ancient beings, as old as the soulmate links. They’re immortal but they’re not gods.”

Tim is still processing the information when Bruce interjects.

“Do you remember the plan?”

You roll your eyes, “Stay in my penthouse with the mini Bat watching over me until you find the Clown. It’s not exactly a science.”

Bruce holds out his hand to help you climb up the ladder out of the bunker but you reject him and climb on your own. When you arrive at your penthouse you won’t have to deal with him any longer. His son, on the other hand, is a different story.

“How does it feel to be told your soulmate is a psychotic maniac?” he asks as he looks down at Gotham through your large windows.

You suddenly feel the urge to hurl his tiny body down the side of the building. You probably don’t have the strength to do it but you won’t die trying.

“I thought only mindless individuals believed in soulmates.”

“I don’t believe in it. But I want to know the kind of mental state of someone who believes they're destined to live the rest of their life with the Joker.”

You roll your eyes at his arrogant smirk reflecting off of the window. You’re holding a glass of wine in your hand and you lift it up to cover Damian’s silhouette with the red liquid, wondering if the rest of Gotham’s children are as bratty. Absolutely no appreciation for things that are ancient and sacred.

It took another week before they caught the Joker. He proved to be a hard man to find when he’s not ready for showtime. The Bat had found him while setting up his next attack on the city. Bruce himself dragged him to the cell and made sure the reinforcements were still in place.

You’re surprised Bruce even trusted you at all. You think that maybe he knew exactly what you were planning in the first place. That he felt he had no choice and it was better to play the ignorant fool and let you and the Court do the dirty work.

The Clown is awake when you enter the cell with a gun in your hand. The moment his eyes land on you, you pull the trigger and shoot him in the head.

His body slams against the side of the table and his head tips back but slowly he reels it back up again. His eyes go twice as wide as the bullet hole on his forehead. His pale bony fingers tap on his head and one makes its way into the hole. The Clown laughs hysterically as he flicks the bullet out.

“The Fate sister was being literal,” you grumble, “We have to be in each other’s arms to age and die.”

The Clown suddenly stops laughing and stares at you curiously. You watch his eyebrows move up and down. “You mean that oooold hag was telling the truth?” He takes a step closer to you with excitement pouring out of every muscle in his body. “If I kill you, I’ll live forever?”

You glare straight into the madman’s eyes and he looks back. His pupils are dilated and roaming every muscle on your face. Looking for the lies. You’re ready to touch him, hold him and then pull the trigger again, when suddenly, he lowers his face and looks at you with bored eyes.

“No, thanks, lady.”

Your grip on the gun loosens but you quickly hold it still. The Clown turns around with his hands behind his back and starts looking at the interior of the cell like an invited guest.

“Now, why would I want something as booooring as immortality?” He looks back at you with an angry expression. His lips upturned in distaste. “Where’s the punchline? Nobody likes a joke that takes too long.”

“You… you want to die?”

The Clown turns his whole body back to you with his arms spread out wide. The hole in his head is completely gone. “Of course! My greatest gig depends on it!” He starts hunching over the table and his hands act like they’re directing miniature pieces on a stage. “Me and the Bat under the moonlight, all of his so called ‘partners’ dead around him. And then finally he’ll kill me--” he turns to you, glaring, suddenly realizing that your link is an inconvenience. Then he rolls his eyes. “I suppose a third wheel could add some impact to the scene.”

You stare at him dumbly. Unsure of what to think. You’ve lived all these years building up a city but to what end? To meet this psycho lunatic in front of you who is more infatuated with the Bat than anything else? This is your soulmate?

No one knows anything about the Clown. Except you know he’s 18. He has been for years and has probably gone crazy because of it. He doesn’t know about the links, never knew that he should’ve been waiting for you. That there’s a future already planned for him.

The Clown has taken steps toward you, eyeing the way you’ve held down your gun and are now staring mindlessly into his face.

“So. Soulmate.” He peers down at you, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. “How about a teeny tiny winsy favor? You know, for love’s sake.”

✧ ✧ ✧

“You let him go.”

Bruce, dressed as the Bat blocks your path back to your town car after a meeting. You cross your arms over your chest. “The Court doesn’t want him prisoner.”

“The Court? Or you?”

You narrow your eyes at Bruce. You think he bugged the cell and heard every bit of your conversation with the Clown. You should have expected him to do so. But it’s not like it matters now. You turn away from him and check your cuticles.

“It’s your game, Bruce. Yours and the Clown’s. I’m merely a spectator.”

“I thought you cared about Gotham.”

A vein along your neck twitches as you clench your teeth. After everything you’ve done for the city. After all the hours you’ve dedicated to its development, and all the hope you’ve handed out freely to its people, what has it given you? Madmen.

“Gotham is my child,” you say sternly. “And just like any parent I need to let it learn to fend for itself.”

Bruce gives you a long look and narrows his eyes. “You’re sick. You deserve each other,” he says before walking back into the shadows.

No, Bruce, you’re the one who’s sick. Sick and dying every day. Always striving to make every minute count, when they’re all just meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Meaningless because everything is already written.

Unlike the Clown who’s writing his own destiny.

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#joker #dc #gotham villains #gotham #ssa #dc imagine #superhero soulmate au #dc imagines #joker imagine #dc fanfiction #dc reader insert #joker fanfiction #joker x reader #watchtower-feed

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lifesasickjoke · 6 years ago

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The Dirt

The Dirt - part 10

part 9

Pairing: Douglas!Nikki x Reader

Word count: 2710

Chapter summary: Today is the day where Nikki was planning on confessing to (Y/N), but he loses his chance when a certain British drummer interferes with his plans.

Warning: Swearing, drugs, the usual

Authors note: I'm alive

‘Sixx here?’ Nikki finally answered his phone. I've been trying to call him for minutes now. He told me he had gotten a new phone, meaning a new number, so I wasn't even sure I was ringing him.

‘Oh, good, right number. Hey, Nik I need to ask you a favour.’ I breathed airily into my phone, walking around with it through my room, gathering together all my clothes and matching them into different outfits.

‘Uh, who is this?’ Nikki asked uncertainty.

I sighed, ‘it's me, Nik, your best friend, (Y/N)?’

‘Oh, (Y/N/N). Sorry new phone, I didn't recognize your number.’

‘No problem Niks, but seriously need your help.’

‘Are you in trouble? Do you need help? Are- are you ok?’ suddenly Nikki sounded panicked. I laughed at him (in a nice way).

‘No no I'm not in that kind of trouble. I just need a ride to Vince's. Do you think you can pick me up?’

Nikki, unlike Mick and Tommy I have also asked, actually agreed to drive all the way out to Los Angeles to come to get me. I got ready for Vince's party in the hour that it took Nikki to drive down to our once shared apartment.

He moved out a couple of weeks ago to the new fancy mansion he had bought with the money he had made from being part of Mötley Crüe.

Everyone bought a new house, car and pool with their money, but being only an assistant to the manager didn't give me so many options with what I earned. Besides, I wanted to save the money I made for later on in life. I lied to Nikki when I told him I was thinking about buying a new apartment or house somewhere closer to the city centre, or on his suggestion, closer to him.

I squeezed my body into the dark red leather bombshell dress that stopped at my mid thigh. I just bought that last week to make myself feel better. I had to admit, I missed living with Nikki more than anything. I missed it that he would stumble in through the window at three in the morning (he and the guys nailed down to prevent the cops always busting in) and I missed out early morning convenience store raid for little snacks to get us through the day where we would just parole the city.

I then did my hair and makeup flawlessly and dug through my closet for some shoes.

Then I heard three loud honks from outside, it was Nikki signalling his arrival. I threw on the nearest jacket I could find and ran to the window and climbed out.

Nikki had pulled up in his Jeep, the door to my side was already open. I ran down the stairs and slid into the passenger seat.

‘Good evening my fair lady. Where could I take you for the fair price of a lunch date later on this week?’ Nikki mocked a cab driver, adding on a thick New York accent.

‘Redondo Beach please kind sir.’ I replied in a flawless French accent and stuck my tongue out at him.

Nikki and I gazed lovingly into each other's eyes for what seemed like ever with kind smiles plaster smack upon our faces.

‘I've missed you.’ I admitted, speaking first. Nikki’s smile grew even wider.

‘You’re right. It's been too long.’ he agreed, finally stepping onto the gas pedal and carefully driving towards Vince's party.

I scoffed in fake offence, even bringing a hand up to my heart to and clutching it to sell it more to him more, ‘it's been two weeks! Besides, I have even invited you over multiple times since then!’

‘I know, I know. I'm sorry. I couldn't find the time.’ he apologized, eyes briefly lifting from the road in front of him and onto me.

They seemed to quickly flicker over my figure.

‘Hey, you look really nice, but touch my jacket again and I'm burning all your makeup.’ Nikki complimented.

I couldn't help but smile.

‘Common Nik, admit it, this jacket looks so much better on me than on you.’

He side glanced at me again, the red traffic lights casting onto his face almost making it seem like he was beet red blushing.

‘You're not wrong.’

As soon as Nikki pulled up to Vince's house, (Y/N) had already been dragged away from him by Razzle who enthusiastically greeted her and the pressed multiple drinks into her hand and dragged her to the dancefloor by the waist.

Nikki blamed Vince for suggesting that they finally introduce Razzle to (Y/N). The crew was out in the town, lounging about and waiting for the next opportunity to cause trouble, excluding (Y/N) of course. She tried to prevent everyone from doing something they might regret when sober.

Tommy was hungry, so he and (Y/N) went to pick up some hot dogs from the stand across the road for everyone when Vince suddenly saw the frizzy hair that belonged to their British friend and invited him over to join them in their day out.

They came onto the topic of (Y/N) when Vince finally offered to introduce her to Razzle. Everyone agreed although Nikki was a bit reluctant.

He thought ‘what's the worst that could happen’, it's not like (Y/N) would fall for Razzle. Him and his British accent.

(Y/N) wasn't like the crowd of girls that were drawn like ducks to bread to Mötley Crüe when they were. Nikki thought Razzle would have no effect on her.

After five minutes of the acquaintance of (Y/N) and Razzle, Nikki could tell he was wrong.

Razzle upped his usual charm. It wasn't like (Y/N) fell right into his arms, it was just that she sort of did.

Nikki was in a bad mood that whole day, having to listen to Razzle tell cheesy pickup lines and terrible jokes and (Y/N) laughing her lungs out.

Dropping cheesy pickup lines and cracking terrible jokes to get (Y/N)s attention was Nikki's job. Now he had to sit beside her, watching the foam of his beer slowly disappear, in silence.

Ever since then, (Y/N) would ask if Razzle were coming every time she went out with the guys.

Today, she was whisked away by him again, and Nikki fell to the sidelines not being particularly happy, but also trying not to care too much. He honestly tried to distract himself. Why should he care about who she's seeing anyways? It's not like he was in love with her.

But he knew that was a big lie.

He snorted another line of cocaine before looking back up to the living room where Razzle was dancing with (Y/N) to a song his band, Hanoi Rocks, had written.

He guessed that Razzle had probably made up a lie for a pick up line, probably one that went along the lines of ‘this song was inspired by you’, but ever since (Y/N) had first heard this song, Nikki was forced to frequently listen to it because it was on all of her cassette and record playlists.

The song finally ended, and Nikki watched as Razzle tried to get (Y/N) to dance to the next one, but she politely refused and walked towards the couch where Nikki was sitting.

She caught his gaze, and her smile lit up. Nikkis breathe was honestly caught in his throat.

He hated this. He hated the butterflies in his stomach whenever (Y/N) teased him jokingly, he hated the rush of blood he got whenever (Y/N) wrapped two arms around him and snuggled into his side when they were both curled up on a couch, he hated it that he wanted (Y/N) to be more to him than a friend.

And especially now. He couldn't help feeling all sorts of things when (Y/N) was walking towards him. Her hips were slightly swaying (probably because of all the drinks she had or to the bass lines of the song playing) and the bombshell dress accented everything.

Her hair was slightly falling out of place and the lipstick was fading from her lips.

Mick beat her to the couch though, sighing deeply as he slowly sat down next to Nikki.

‘Goddamn.’ he cursed with a grunt.

That was when (Y/N) and Razzle dropped themselves on the couch as well.

(Y/N) let out a content sigh and Nikki's heart skipped a beat.

‘You okay there, Mick?’ Tommy asked. He was probably having the most fun out of all the people here at the party. He was pissed drunk, high, and had two beautiful girls hanging on his arms.

‘Yeah,’ Mick answered, ‘my back hurts from carrying this band all tour.’

(Y/N) scoffed and under her breathe replied with ‘yeah, right.’

‘Don't you love this guy?’ Tommy laughed.

Another girl from the dance floor came over for Tommy and squeezed herself into the last available space on the couch next to (Y/N), who politely moved to make more space.

Unfortunately, now (Y/N) was practically half sitting on top of Nikki who really couldn't stand it anymore.

Right then and there he made up his mind. Today was the day he was going to tell her what he had wanted to tell her for her all these years.

He could picture it already.

Nikki would pull (Y/N) away from the dance floor after having asked her to dance with him to one of the slower songs he knew where going to be played by Vince tonight (because Nikki begged him to include them just so he could have (Y/N) a fraction close to him that she would usually be) to the balcony that overlooked Vince’s garden, pool, and private beach section of the house. He would wait for a moment, maybe after he and (Y/N) had a lovely, deep and meaningful conversation about something, and then confess his feelings under the starlight. She would, hopefully, let him love her, and then Nikki would pull her into the best kiss he had ever given as the music and background chatter for the party slowly drowns away and just becomes a blur of the moment.

That was exactly what Nikki was going to do, and he suddenly felt at ease again after the last couple of years.

He had a plan and he was going to go through with it no matter what.

All that was left for him to do now was to let Vince know that he needed the slow music and that he needed it right this moment.

To seem inconspicuous, Nikki bent down and did one more line of cocaine, then as he scanned the room. He spotted Vince standing in a more secluded hallway of his house with another girl. Nikki suddenly got an idea to slightly win (Y/N) back right at this moment.

He elbowed Mick, also successfully catching (Y/N)s attention, and began running his own hands all over his chest and mimicked a woman's voice.

‘Hey, are you in the band?’

Mick followed to where Nikki was looking.

‘What do you fucking think?’ he mimicked Vince’s voice.

(Y/N) laughed at their exchange along with Nikki and Mick.

Tom Zutaut wanted to add something to this conversation as well.

‘Have you met my wife, Sharise? Do you wanna have a threesome?’ he also mimicked Vince’s tone.

Nikki stopped laughing as soon as the words that left Toms mouth made (Y/N) stiffen up just slightly. The comment even made Mick raises an eyebrow.

‘Tom, what the fuck is wrong with you, man?’ Nikki scowled. ‘She’s fucking pregnant, man.’

(Y/N) cleared her throat and sat up a little bit straighter. ‘Yeah, that is fucked up.’ she agreed.

Nikki watched her face carefully, knowing that she was offended by Tom’s comment but was too proud to show it.

‘Don't be a fucking dick, okay? Look at her, she's fucking pregnant.’ Nikki seriously warned Tom.

‘Don't be a fucking dick, Zutaut.’ Mick added as he leaned back on the couch.

‘All right. I'm sorry.’ Tom apologized, now seeing how offensive he was.

Nikki inwardly cursed when he noticed that Razzle was walking back towards the couch. He had left a moment ago with Vince for more drinks. Nikki liked Razzle and all, of course. What's not to like? He was a fun outgoing energetic person. It was just that he was getting too friendly with (Y/N).

‘Come with me and Vince to get more drinks, love.’ Razzle asked, taking (Y/N)s hand and trying to lift her off the couch.

(Y/N) groaned and weakly tried to fight him off.

‘Nah, I have no more energy left. The dancing really tired me out.’ she whined trying to shake Razzle off.

‘We can buy more drinks at the store, that will give you energy.’ Razzle insisted, managing to lift her off the couch.

‘No seriously, Razz, my feet hurt.’

‘Then I'll carry you!’ he offered optimistically. In one swift motion, he scooped (Y/N) up into his arms.

(Y/N) did not like this sudden act, and Nikki noticed.

‘Hey, man, leave her alone, alright? She said she didn't want to go so fuck off.’ Nikki snapped.

Razzles jaw clenched as he considered the ‘’threat’’ and then he gently sat (Y/N) back down.

The silent tension between Razzle and Nikki could have been cut with a cheese knife. I was awkwardly standing next to Razzle, who is a nice guy and only meant well when he asked if I want to come with him. His hand was still sort off resting on my waist from having sat me down. Nikki's gaze momentarily flickered down to his hand and I could see the glaze that he usually got when he was about to start a fight pass over his eyes.

I heard Razzle chuckle wearily as he saw Nikki's hard set burning gaze bore into his hand.

‘Alright, alright, I meant no offence.’ he told Nikki, slowly, as to prevent any provocation, lifting his hand off my side.

I could sense the fight Nikki would initiate.

God, I love him, but sometimes? He can be a real dick. Especially now! Every time I get close to a guy Nikki does something to drive them.

At first, I always thought that he just had a very good sense of which guy is a jerk and which guy is a good potential choice. But now I knew Nikki was making a terrible judgment. There was nothing wrong with razzle as far as I was aware.

Nik was about to say something too, but I shot him the worst look I could master and he closed his mouth.

I needed to leave this room. Nikki was actually killing me.

I’ve waited my whole life for him to give me a sign that he wanted to be more than ‘best friends’ but he never even indicated that he was even remotely attracted to me and rather than sitting around like a dumbass I have actually decided that I needed to eventually get over him. He's had his chance (although I never told him that I was giving him one).

Razzel was the most perfect guy to help me get over Nikki, but I couldn't stand being close to either of them at the moment.

With one last glance at Nik, I turned on my heel and left the seating area.

Such a big house like this I'm bound to find myself an empty room where there were no pairs of people who are making out.

I ended up in a small bathroom on the second floor, furthest away from the party, thankfully by myself. The occasional giggle from a passing couple and their loud echoing footsteps could be heard from the other side of the door.

There was a sudden knock. I lifted my head out of my hands.

‘Occupied.’ I answered.

‘I know. I'm here for you. We need to talk.’ The voice replied.

I raised an eyebrow and slid off the rim of the bathtub to open the door.

Tag list: @getthefckouttahere @kingbouji3 @fandomshit6000 @spookyfrances @kwyloz @triplehaitches @myheadisinvaded @wonderboygenius @kawennote09@inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @the-dopemusiccoffee @versaceismehoe @glitter-rian @miss-ncthing@flizaa @evanpeters3826 @divaanya @extremesadnerding@oskea93 @technicallyvirtualmilkshake @thatbandchick39@virtualsheepeat @sighsophiia @thexbasketcase @anon-1112@heavymetalprincessa @normanreedus5150 @prettysureimgayxo @candystoregirl @yoinks-i-don’t-feel-so-good @mother-fronker @animalsgal @supernaturalvikingwhore@tamedhearts @discodeacygotmorerhythm @16cxndles@kellinplayingbagpipes @abaldboi@scarecrowmax @vintageratdoctor @raversam @nessa-030201@nassauartist @cierrasixx19 @shamelessobsessions @redhotvinyl@hi-my-name-is-Riley @snatchedbylele @lighthousefromthesea@tarahell @fatheadthefirst @my-names-blurryfvce @mixer3818@toadspleen @kwyloz @shannonwardski @gofficialm @oskea93@allieburakovsky @lovesick-heart0 @erosbabygirl @ironicterm00 @emmaelizabeth2014 @k--i--a @sharon6713 @mazzello-lee-jones-malek @disrogbitch @calumstuffs @rebeccaphillips14 @tiktokviralsensation @wheresmyvodkabitch @captainloki1 @nikkisixxterr

The tag list is always open :)

Right well this one is terribly written I mean it's got no real plot no pictures and horrible dialogue but @discodeakygotmorerhythm made it all worth it.

But I promise as soon as my other laptop works again ill make all the gifs for this part and add those divider lines (apparently that's not an option on this computer)

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steve0discusses · 5 years ago

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Yugioh S3 Ep 44-45: Bakura‘s Back for More of This Nonsense

Man, I can’t believe we’re closing in on the 4th season of this show (still in shock I’m still able to make these.) Seems like just yesterday I felt like I had no idea what was happening, and now I’m like “they put in freakin Sans into Smash but not Bakura???” I’ve become one of those people now.

It’s been interesting how, because I have slowed down to watch these, I think I’ve been able to have a much more positive experience with the show. People have been talking about how binging has kind of changed TV from a place where fandoms could chat to a place where...you just watch it all in a weekend and hope no one spoils it and then wait for the next big thing to consume a week later.

But, when you’re watching a 15 year old anime you don’t have to worry about any of that. So it’s like a kind of nostalgic experience of a pre-streaming era despite the fact I’m totally streaming this.

But back to the show, now that the deep and reflective moments for Marik are over, my favorite storyboarder went home and left the rest of this to the night team who are clearly in a real rush to get this all finished. Again, the Yugioh whiplash is going from that high of “damn this is so goo-” then to the reality that the rest of the art direction in this show is “-acceptable. I meant to say acceptable. It’s perfectly acceptable”

Yugi Muto is still strung up by weird shadow magic restraints that must also be around his legs for some reason. I mean...it wouldn’t be so kinky if it wasn't also around his feet. More bits and pieces of Our Boy have been removed over the course of this endless card game, and he’s doing pretty good considering.

Joey has decided he’s had Enough Of These Damn Ghosts.

And so Marik decided that he’s been shamed by Joey Wheeler enough that he will just go away like Joey asks. This may be the only person who was actually bothered enough by Joey Wheeler to walk away in all of Yugioh.

(read more under the cut)

They....

Legit no one told her what had just happened.

They........

Just want to note that while Yugi’s leg burst out a stream of weird purple gas and Yugi screamed in pain, when his crotch disappeared, he did nothing but patiently look over at Pharaoh, who awkwardly winced. I guess the animation team knew better than to animate gas exploding out of that one particular spot, but it is still a rather funny contrast.

Marik has achieved his final form of so many veins, and it is a still frame every time it’s on screen. You cannot animate this. You cannot.

On the other end of the field, Odion has somehow made it down these extremely steep stairs, only to look up and see so many more stairs.

And back on the field is so many cards. So many cards, including the Card Poem. This awful Card Poem I tried so hard to forget.

Bro brings up that maybe this poem sounds way cooler in Japanese but like...I doubt it, right? Like this was a poem that the writers threw together in 5 minutes and were like “we’re never going to actually say the shame poem, right?”

But anyway more cards things happen but why talk about cards when this eventually happens.

I feel like Pharaoh was attempting to use Shadow Magic on Marik like just a few episodes ago so he could have done something now but...maybe he forgot? I dunno. Pharaoh didn’t feel like participating in this particular fight, maybe because his alter ego is holding on to life solely by having extra long emo bangs to count as lifepoints.

and so, Odion gives Marik a pep talk--and I kid you not, this is all Marik needed the entire time.

Yeah.

That was it.

Like maybe Odion had to be awake since Odion has a spell or whatever on Marik but still it’s like...all you had to do was say “This guy is not even a person, Marik--you are the person, just nix him and we’re good”

And so the two alter ego’s fight with eachother in the same body and that must have been a treat for everyone watching.

Man, it’s a good thing Mokuba already has so many PTSD situations under his several belts up to this point, because otherwise I’d be somewhat concerned about this very young kid who is privy to all this type of magical abominations every time his brother just wants to play cards.

and then...Yugi plays a bunch of cards and...um......

......don’t ask me what happened........

After the big group hug, Marik and Marik switch places.

This was because bad Marik was fused with a monster card--which turned bad-Marik into...the definition of a Monster.

So, if you kill the monster card then you can...

...switch places with your alternate half...

...yes...

Basically it’s a more complicated version of what Pharaoh did to Ryou and Bakura in S1, except in S1, Bakura played Ryou as a card and Pharaoh just slammed his hands on the table and was like “Screw it, Bakura! I’m so tired of this! We’re all so individually tired of this! I’m just going to use my Shadow Magic and switch you with Ryou and then we’re all going the HELL BACK TO BED!”

This time it just had to be so much more complicated although we have seen Pharaoh willy nilly switch souls before just two seasons ago.

So, just like Bakura did to his evil side in S1, Marik banishes his evil side to the shadow realm in a card game.

Which worked super good last time, amiright?

I guess we’re all just going to assume that this works now? Even though this absolutely did not work in season 1? Like Bakura went right back to a life of murder immediately?

Then again, Bakura’s an actual dude, and Marik’s alter Ego was a figment of his anger or something?????? Maybe that’s the difference? Maybe that’s why we can be rest assured that this works now?

Maybe they’re just tired of the Marik plot line and are like “listen, he’s kind of hard to draw and we don’t want to do it anymore. He’s dead now.”

For realsies though, from what I’ve been told, Marik never goes cray again and gracefully exits the show. But, if they ever want to continue Yugioh back in this direction, you can just have him snap at any time you feel like, we all know this type of exorcism is wholly reversible.

Anyway, the clouds are lifted and we are reminded that it is still hardly even lunch time.

It is at this point that Marik turns to his Brother and his Sister, who all three have no world skills outside of scamming museums and filtering sewer water, and waxes long about all the great times they’re about to have in the future.

Like what future though? You have to go to 20 years of actual real deal school, Marik, you can only read one Egyptian text. Hell knows how many people you possessed in order to get that motorcycle permit. You for sure aren’t ever allowed to play cards ever again. Like what are you going to do, Marik?

...dude what if he just goes back on the boat and just sails away for the rest of his life with his cultists who are equally unqualified to live in the real modern world. OMG what if that’s the real Marik’s Boat Time all along?

Ah.

I almost forgot about you, Bakura.

Just in time for the British Bake Off to start updating episodes on Netflix, just in time, Bakura.

And following this is actual real thing that happened which, if you told me about, I would have just assumed was a joke or an edit to make it appear like this is happening. But no, it’s strip time.

the hell?

Yo can you believe that like a week ago I was like quoting “One Week” for kicks in these recaps and then this week Marik is, indeed, “in the history of taking off his shirt” ?

Anyway, Marik reminds us that his only purpose in life is to uh...be a book. A book that no one can read because Pharaoh didn’t have the foresight 5000 years ago that no one would be speaking Egyptian anymore and also that his reincarnation would be a 14-16 yo Japanese boy who’s entire brain power is used for selecting cards and selecting matching belts.

I just...Pharaoh’s mind must have been in a real place 5000 years ago and that was before he ever became a ghost.

Also, it is kind of amazing how many times it has come up how illiterate Pharaoh is over the past season and he still hasn’t decided to do anything about it. Like, he’s just kind of hoping that someone else (probably Kaiba) will feed the answer to him like a baby because that’s just how this show has been up to now.

In this case he has a one-ness moment with the tablet and gets the sense of “It’s fine, we’ll figure this out later” which um...

I’m really happy that in this scene, Pharaoh is still tripping balls but everyone else is so used to him doing stuff like this, they just completely ignore it.

So glad I had 2 seasons to build up this back tatt in order to figure out that Marik’s back didn’t help Pharaoh at all. The tablet yes, the back tattoo--no, completely unnecessary. Congrats, Pharaoh’s mole people servants, you screwed up and did this weird ass ceremony on 12 yo’s for 5000 years trapped underground for NO REASON.

Anyways, preteens rejoice, Marik without a shirt is randomly 10 lbs more buffed now, which I’m pretty sure was never a thing when he was wearing that itty bitty pink hoodie. Like maybe the animators are just used to really buffed anime and this is them toning it the hell down, but uh...no actual 16 year olds will ever look like this, sorry to break it to you, preteens.

Man, the horny line running through this show lol.

Letsee, Yugi now has the puzzle, Ishizu’s necklace, the Ring, the Rod, the...

...where’s the freakin eyeball?

Did...where is it? Where is the nastiest of the golden objects?

Did Bakura never bring the eye with him to this trip? Like...is it just hanging out in his desk at home near his secret stash he super hopes that his Mom doesn’t find?

Guys, where’s the eyeball?

Anyway, now that Mokuba has decided Seto can feel joy and smile again, he gives Seto the A-OK to blow the hell out of this moneypit island that has already been violently blown up just a few years previously.

Like this begs the question, why even build this tower if you wanted to blow it up? But then again, that is the equivalent to a small child that builds block towers just to knocks them over, right? Like that part of Seto just never grew up?

So........

My bro, while looking this over, gave me the best spicy bro headcanon I’ve ever heard, and it’s absolutely too ridiculous for this blog that is mostly about what actually happens in the course of this show, but I’mma gonna share it with you anyway. I’m pretty sure this isn’t a common headcanon, but if my bro got it from some random fic he read off Ao3, I don’t know any better. So bro kinda squints at Roland, Seto Kaiba’s most incompetent bodyguard (if “bodyguard” is even an accurate description for the weird fake not-a-job that this guy has to do) and is like “do you feel like Roland has Noah’s hair color?”

and I was like “Bro, if you are suggesting that Roland is the illegitimate son of Gozobura because his hair is the same shade as the darker parts of Noah’s hair, that is one wild headcanon and I love it”

So--using Bro’s logic, lets say Gozaboro had a really stupid illegitimate son he had to hide from his wife. So he just...gives him a fake job. Considers “maybe I can use this son on A.I. Noah?” but Roland ends up being too much of a dumbass to intimidate Noah, so instead, he keeps Roland around on low-tier jobs so he gets keep an eye on him, torture him, etc.

And as the company falls out around him, Roland gets slowly promoted, as Seto and Mokuba fire basically everyone who worked with Pegasus and the Big 5. And Roland, who is just so bad at everything, forgot to attend the Pegasus coup (and would have no idea what is ever happening), so when the Kaibas returned from Pegasus’ island they still have Roland...sitting there at that long table covered in 4 identical idiot salads and orange juice he laid out for them in his patchy green moustache and his huge Gozaburo shoulders, they’re like “well.....I guess we have to take care of him now.”

And that’s the story my brother has in his head now every time Roland is on screen. It’s not canon at all that Roland is the secret 4th Kaiba brother but damn. What if he’s just the 4th Kaiba brother but has no idea, and Mokuba and Seto do, and that’s why they drag him all over the world with them? Hilarious.

I mean...Seto and Mokuba fire everyone. But they don’t fire Roland, their biggest dumbass. What a headcanon. (and if this joke ends up being real I’ll be very happy)

ALSO, new thing, the necklaces around their necks with the cute picture of eachother that they had up till now to remind eachother of their forever brotherly love--also keys used to blow up things very violently.

I should have expected this.

Anyway, lets check up on Mai---oohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Y’all this was WEIRD.

WHAT. THE. HELL.

So after that extremely insensitive joke that made us doubt if bringing back Mai was a good thing, lets have a reminder that we brought back someone else even worse, who, like a parasite, was devouring everything that they love.

(Bakura’s font color has been changed to blue stripes because before he was just too similar to Joey’s yellow and my white. Eventually I will find the right system for coloring everyone’s font legibly, although I know that the patterns are sometimes harder to read for people that aren’t colorblind.)

Ah, local nasty boy is back. I’d love if they had shown more of the food he ate, but they wisely decided to crop that huge spread out of frame. Bakura eating all of the donuts is canon though. Somehow every donut aboard this blimp fit inside of that small boy’s endless stomach.

PS Kaiba Corp makes their own milk. At some point, Seto Kaiba was just leaning back into his work chair, Mokuba on the couch watching TV, Roland completely unable to reload the Keurig, and Seto was like “But what if...I made CHEESE.” (BECAUSE YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THESE KIDS LOVE CHEESE) and Mokuba was like “OMG you could sell the company back to them at 2 times the price for each share” and he was like “I KNOW.”

and so he marched down to the nearest cheese fields to buy some cows, only to find out that the agriculture market is so strained you can’t sell the shares at a times-two profit now and he‘s like “Ah dammit! I have to do real business! This freakin blows!”

Makes you think.

Anyway, then Ryou throws some shade at us about “PS, I was in Hell! I love you, too!”

Anyway, so it’s about time we ended this season, so how about it? How about we take off, watch it all blow up as a symbolic representation of all the hopes and dreams Kaiba had at the beginning of this tourney, and end this crazy ass season?

Oh wait, that relies on Roland being able to do even one thing competently.

So, that’s where we leave off.

Really truly, honestly, we need to get everyone on this show matching cuff radios because the number of times they’ve needed to call Kaiba is insurmountable. Could have solved so many problems. Really surprised that Roland can’t like...call the Kaibas right now, but now that I think about it, we clarified several episodes ago that Mokuba forcibly kicked Roland off of the radio because he was unable to work it properly.

Good job Roland, the best Kaiba son.

Anyway if you just got here this is a link to read just the Yugioh recaps in chrono order

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vidkid20ssimblrlair · 6 years ago

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Episode 8: Trust Gotta Start Somewhere (Part 1)

"DJ totally lied. That gas station was freaking far, man!" I said bent over gasping for air.

"No, it wasn't. You're just gotten lazier and more out of shape since staying here," scolded my brother as we reached the Jones' front gate. "It's idiotic to get so comfortable in times like this. You would think you learned your lesson by now, but nooo! Not you!"

"Geez, will you lighten up already?! You’ve been picking on me the whole walk here. Give me a break!"

He continued, "It's also idiotic to be so trusting. I have half a mind to ditch both of you and this suicide mission and go back in the house and take a nice long nap!"

"And I have half a mind you're full of shit, I said smirking. "I saw your face back there when Vince held that girl in his arms. You know what you're doing is right, but you just won't admit it. Am I right? Come on. Admit it.”

“I’ll admit that you’re an idiot. How about that?”

I rolled my eyes at his usual insult and we continued up the driveway towards the house. When we reached the porch, DJ was there to greet us. Sitting on the porch still holding onto his crossbow and chewing bubble gum.

"Sup? Everything went ok. Where's Madison?" he said eyeing the two of us.

Matthew frowned, "Helping a complete stranger who threatened our lives. No biggie. You've seen Aaron?"

Really? She must have seen something in them then. You left her there alone?"

"Yes, because that woman is as stubborn as a mule!"

"Like you?" he teased chuckling. "Anyway, Aaron's upstairs. He was in the garden, but him and Mr. Omar got to beefing earlier. Had to break it up."

"What's new? Not surprised," Matthew grumbled. "Is he sober?"

"Doubt it," he frowned. "But want me to go after Madison?"

"No. Keep this under wraps. No one needs to know about any of this. Not yet anyway. If anyone asks, tell them we went back out on a supply run and needed Aaron to confirm something. Well, that's if Aaron can get out the door on his two feet."

We then promptly headed upstairs towards the doctor's quarters. A spare room and study in the Jones' impressive home. We pushed open the door to the narrow room and there was Dr. Aaron Pinto sprawled out on the couch with a vodka bottle firmly in his right hand.

"I'm not taking any more appointments today," he slurred in his quaint British accent. "Come back tomorrow when I can see straight."

"Damnit Pinto are you ever not drunk?" Matthew growled standing over the drunk Brit. "Get your sorry ass up and come on. We need you for something."

"Ah, Parker brother number one. I told you to come back tomorrow. Tomorrow when I'm not drunk out of my mind," he giggled. He put the vodka bottle to his mouth and shook it frowning before falling into a fit of giggles again. "All gone."

Matt swiped at the bottle causing it to sail across the room barely missing me. He grabbed the doctor by the collar shaking him and yelling, "If you don't get up you're going need a doctor! Now sober up you piece of shit!"

"Matt. Seriously," I chided. He let the man go and I bent down next to Aaron resting again on the couch. "Aaron. We need your help. Someone we met on the road got hurt because of us and they need our help. It's very important we get back there. Those people and Madison are counting on us."

Aaron rolled over staring directly into my eyes. He seemed to be mulling over my plea. He sighed. "I can't help you. I'm in no shape to help you and what's the point? We're all going die eventually. Why delay the inevitable?"

"But Madison is out there! Waiting for us!" Matt growled.

He shrugged. "Your girlfriend isn't exempt from fate, Matthews. If you're so worried why don't go to her and leave me be?"

"You little..."

"Aaron!" I yelled. "Listen to yourself. You're a doctor! Extending people's time on this Earth is what you do!"

He scoffed. "Have you seen outside? Who would want to live in a world like this? Extend lives? Ha!"

"You can't think like that. You gotta have hope, man. I certainly didn't save you to sit here and drink yourself to death."

He pulled out a flask. "I didn't ask you to save me, Parker. You're the one who made that mistake. Hope? What a bunch of rubbish."

"Aaron, please," I begged.

Suddenly, Matthew raised his hand and slapped Aaron across the face. The sound alone made me jump and the flask went flying up in the air. Aaron's eyes grew wide and Matthew seethed with anger.

"I'm sick of your bullshit. Stop the constant pity party! "Stop the 'oh woe is me I'm a terrible doctor," shit! My brother saved you and you're going honor that by not being a completely useless piece of shit! So get up, make your self presentable, and follow us! I will not take no for an answer! I'll drag you there if I have to!"

"Matt...please."

"No. He's wasting time."

"I'll help get him ready. Just please go outside," I said wearily trying to gain control of the situation. "Trust me. We will both meet you outside."

He left hesitantly, but he left to my relief. I looked over at Aaron who seemed to be frozen in place on the couch. I stood over him and he looked up at me with a strange look on his face.

"I'm not going hit you," I said sitting on the arm of the couch.

"Oh, I'm so grateful," he slurred rolling his eyes and rubbing his face. "Now you can leave to. Go."

"No. Look I know you had it rough. If you need to talk..."

"I don't want to talk. I want you and your brother to leave me alone."

I sighed. "You may have given up, but I'm not giving up on you or that girl who needs your help. "

"Well suit yourself. I'm going to sleep," he mumbled turning over and closing his eyes.

I looked down as my foot made contact with something and spotted a piece of paper. I picked it up. Cursive letters decorated it and I could smell a slight scent of lavender come from it. "What's this?"

"What's what, Parker?"

I began reading it out loud. "My Dearest Aaron. How I long for you....?"

I watch the drunken sloth of man raise up from his couch and throw himself towards me reaching for the letter. He was close to retrieving it, but not close enough and I pulled it away rising from my seat.

"Wait. Is this a love letter? From...Alex? Is this from your wife? I remember you saying you were married."

"No. It's not from her."

"Oh!" I said furrowing my brow. "You sly dog. From your mistress? I got you."

"No. Now give me that letter!"

I smiled. "Nope. I think I'll keep this. Give it to you when we get where we're going."

"And where is that, Parker?"

"The gas station. Get your medicine kit."

He stood up clenching his fist fuming. "This is blackmail!"

"No. Just insurance", I said winking. "I won't even read it if you come along. Trust me."

Previous Episode- Part 1 Part 2

Part 2 tomorrow. Already written. Just need pics.

#sims 3 dead on arrival #ts3 dead on arrival #dead on arrival season 2 #doa season 2 #sims 3 #ts3 #simblr #sims 3 simblr #ts3 simblr #sims 3 story #ts3 story

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wearetakingthehobbitstogallifrey · 7 years ago

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Gotham 4x12 (*shrieks* SPOILERS)

Before we begin can I just say that Bruce better shape the heck up by the end of this episode and apologize to Alfred. And Harvey and Jim better make up

-Jim goes into a "respectable establishment" and I keep missing the name of the guy he is looking for because I keep getting distracted by his rough voice

-Oh Waaaait he was looking for Harvey :( he misses his brother :(

-aaah the birth of Poison Ivy. Tag yourself I am both the guy who says what the and the girl who is like DON'T TOUCH IT YOU FOOL

-NOOOO Alfred is haunting a diner because he has nowhere to go because my poor stupid lost son Bruce kicked him out

-sidenote: as cool as Jim's voice is, Alfred's voice is 10000000 times cooler

-uh oh these fools are gonna pick on Alfred. They are sooo going to regret that

-Lee being a leader and telling the people of the Narrows that they need to band together is da best and

-I like Ivy's voice too...OMG she just turned a guy into mOSS

-ALFRED SCHOOLING THE THUGS IN BRITISH LITERATURE IS EVERYTHING BUT THEN

"Wallet, watch, jewelry"

"Absolutely NOT. I mean, you're a big man, but you're out of shape. And what, you're three beers in already?" BAHAHAHAHA THEN HE JUST DESTROYS HIM

-the other guys are lucky that Jim shows up before Alfred can rearrange their faces too

-AAAAAH NOO THE LOOK ON ALFRED,S FACE WHEN JIM ASKS IF BRUCE IS WITH HIM :( he is upset and almost ashamed looking (maybe for Bruce? Or for himself because he wasn't able to father/guide/guard Bruce like he wanted to? UGH

-Alfred trying to be like yeah it's not such a terrible place to live, rent is cheap, and Jim's face and inflection of one in "You live here?" It's just like wtf happened when I was busy being hoodwinked by Sofia?!

-Ed being super impressed by Lee is my favorite thing look at his smile

-BOMB

-OMG WAIT WE HADN'T EVEN REACHED THE TITLE CARD YET THIS EPISODE IS GONNA BE LIT

-Lucius Fox is super brilliant I love him

-Jim is worried about whatever the heck is going on with the Alfred and Bruce situation and he promises to call Alfred and gives him a pat on the back and it just kills me because look Alfred is a bit of a recluse and for the past few years has lived almost solely for Bruce Wayne and like does he have any friends really? He has nowhere to go and no one to talk to :( please remember to call him, Jim

-LOOK I KNOW IT WON'T FREAKING LAST BECAUSE GOTHAM HATES LETTING US HAVE NICE THINGS BUT I LOVE ED SUPPORTING LEE AND I LOVE HIM PACING THE FLOOR FURIOUS THAT SOMEONE TRIED TO KILL HER (

-MY NAME IS BUTCH. BUTCH GILZEAN. OOPS

-omg Alfred is now the hero of the Narrows diner lol getting free drinks and the guy who just tried to mug him is like MAD RESPECT dude like you ran into a burning building to save people you ROCK and Alfred is like ?? ? Right, um, friends?? Aww and shares a drink with him

-Alfred then notices the waitress has a bruise on the side of her head. That she lies about. Someone is going down later, I can sense it

-lol Lucius and Jim on the case

L: you got a hunch

J: no, just a bad feeling

*creepy toy moves and makes a noise*

J: of course I'd happily be wrong

L, in a tone of the utmost disgust: who buys these things

-LUCIUS IS SO dONE WITH ALMOST GETTING MURDERED BY TOYS

-young guy: I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT MY FATHER WAS DOING

Jim, in THE flattest voice imaginable: there's a machine gun built into the wooden hand of this nutcracker here. Excuse me if I find that hard to believe

-ivy waking up in a new body with new powers and the first thing she does is find a sparkly dress and open a pint of ice cream nice

-uh-oh, wayne enterprises had a gas leak, betcha Ivy's gonna go after the company later!

-after she goes a after the sirens?! Wait does she hate all of them or does she remember that Selina is her friend?

-this girl is in love with Alfred's accent and I'm like SAME

-also I can promise you that Alfred is fixing to beat up the girl's abuser just watch

-EXCUSE YOU GOTHAM HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME CRY OVER ALFRED'S FRIENDSHIP WITH AND LOYALTY TO THOMAS WAYNE UGH MY HEART I NEED 575498 FANFICS ABOUT THIS AND I ALSO NEED BRUCE TO SHAPE THE HECK UP AND SEE EXACTLY HOW MUCH HE HAS HURT ALFRED AND HOW HIS DAD WOULD BE DISAPPOINTED IN HIM FOR THIS NOT FOR THE OTHER STUFF AND WHYYYY I CAN'T THE FEELS

-UGH HE TRIED ALFRED TRIED :(

-Lucius, sees poison ivy flourishing in a dead man's body: fASCINATING

Me: ... ... ..Gotham is a strange place with strange people

-OMG BRUCE IS BEING A COMPLETE IDIOT AND SELINA IS LIKE WHAT THE HELL. WHAT THE ACTUAL F. BRUCE WHAT ARE YOU DOING UGH

SHE SEES HIM AND SHE KNOWS HIM AND SHE KNOWS THIS IS LITERALLY THE OPPOSITE OF THE TYPE OF PERSON HE IS IN HIS HEART AND SOUL I HOPE SHE CALLS HIM OUT EVERY DAY TILL HE WAKES UP

-I can't stand drunk stupid Bruce who seems to think acting like a fool is gonna make him forget all the terrible things that have happened to him. I feel bad for him but good gravy son this cannot stand. At the same time I can see how this idiot playboy period of his life will ruin any conception people (maybe especially Jim) have of him as an intelligent, competent, intense young man who they might suspect of being the Batman

-Jim goes to Barbara for info, because that always turns out well

-OMG OMG OMG THAT ABUSIVE BOYFRIEND FRAMED ALFRED FOR MURDER WHAAAT HE KILLED HIS GIRLFRIEND AND THEN FRAMED ALFRED NOOO AND THE GIRL WAS SO SWEET OH MAN ALFRED IS GONNA BE DESTROYED OH GOSH HE JUST WANTED TO HELP

-IF JIM THINKS FOR ONE SECOND THAT ALFRED ACTUALLY DID THIS I'LL PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE

-I AM SO ANGRY RIGHT NOW

-OKAY I THINK JIM IS GONNA TRY TO HELP HIM

-WAIT ALFRED JUST PEACED OUT THE HECK IF THEY WERE GONNA TAKE HIM TO THE STATION ON SUSPICION OF MURDER WHY WEREN'T THEY GUARDING HIM. WHY DIDN'T THEY PUT HIM IN HANDCUFFS. IDIOTS

-aww Butch still loves Tabby

-BAHAHAHAHA I'M CRYING ED IS NOW LEE'S HYPE MAN MAKES UP INTRODUCTORY RIDDLES FOR HER LOL

-JIM'S FACE WHEN HE SEES THAT LEE IS THE DOC

-LOL ED CREEPS UP ON JIM AND STARTLES THE HECK OUT OF HIM

Jim: I should bust you right now

Ed: yeah yeah whatevs look your ex is awesome and I'm on her side now surprise

Jim: someone hired krank the toymaker to kill her

Ed: Krank? That is sooo Gotham

BAHAHAHAHAHA

-I love Jim and I love Lee and the angst between them now hurts so bad but...I don't see them getting back together and marrying...because Jim can be a knucklehead and Lee doesn't have patience for that. UGH WHYYY. maybe it will be this bittersweet thing where they will always be good friends and remember what might have been...or years and years and years down the road they might marry...but not now :(

-lol Ed in the background like um guys I am standing right here? Maybe don't talk about me like I'm in another room? Lol

-btw what is up with Ed's hair xD

-waaaaaait a second....

-OMG ALFRED IS GONNA MURDER THE KILLER BOYFRIEND OH NO HE IS OUTNUMBERED

-HELL YES!!! HARVEY TO THE RESCUE!!!!!!!! SORRY IT TOOK HIM SO LONG HE WAS IN THE JOHN

-Harvey: I love bar-tending, it involves two of my favorite things--drinking and ignoring people

HARVEY THAT'S NOT HOW THAT WORKS

-BLESS YOU THOUGH HARVEY I LOVE YOU THABKS FOR SAVING ALFRED'S BACON

-OH GEE IVY IS SUPER DANGEROUS NOW AND SUPER CRAZY

-OH BOY OH MAN OH GOSH YUP ED'S ALTER EGO THE RIDDLER HIRED THE GUY TO KILL LEE I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN

-JIM SHOWS UP TO SAVE ED BUT ED'S A STRESSED MESS AND HONESTLY THE WHOLE LONE WOLF THING SOUNDS DUMB AND JIM IS LIKE HUH YOU SURE ABOUT THAT

-OF ALL THE BEER HALLS IN THE CITY, HUH? (I love Harvey so much) aww he is drinking to the lady with Alfred my heart

-NOOOOOOOOO JIM AND HARVEY NOOO

Jim: I've missed you

Harvey: well I haven't missed you. Haven't missed begging you not to do something just to watch you go ahead and do it anyway. Haven't missed watching you bang Falcone's daughter while she uses you to get rid of Penguin

Alfred: *shifting in his seat* THIS IS SO AWKWARD

-UGH HARVEY IS LIKE YOU DON'T WANT ME AS A COP YOU WANT SOMEONE TO CONFESS TO YOU WANT ME TO BE YOUR PRIEST

AND JIM IS LIKE...HOW ABOUT ALL THOSE THINGS AND A FRIEND *HANGS HEAD IN SADNESS*

ALFRED CONTINUES TO DRINK AND WISH HE WAS ANYWHERE ELSE

LOOK THERE IS ANGST AND THERE IS ANGST AND I AM DONE WITH SOME OF THEM GIMME THE HARVEY/JIM BROTP BACK I MISS MY BROTHER COPS

-IN CONCLUSION ALFRED AND BRUCE ARE STILL ON THE OUTS AND SO ARE JIM AND HARVEY EVERYTHING HURTS

#gotham spoilers #monica freaks out over gotham #gotham season 4 #poor alfred pennyworth #jim gordon and harvey bullock need to make up #i can't wait for bruce's drunken playboy act to become more of an act than it already is #lee thompkins is cool #i wanna learn more about how alfred is so loyal to thomas wayne it is beautiful

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gone-to-fight-the-fairies · 7 years ago

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Head Over Hunt: Part 1

Request: Hi! 🙋🏼 i just found your blog.. you are awesome writer! I see your rqst are open.. could you do some Ketch x reader fics, where she is young hunter (like a sister to Winchesters). She and Ketch are taking some vamp nest together, and on their trip, they both kinda fall in love, but she is young and innocent, and Ketch being Ketch, try to push her.. eventually he gives in, and seek her... some fluff, kiss, smut end.. your call :) tnx

A/N: I wish Tumblr would let me cross out words in the title of posts because I wanted the title to be Head Over Heels Hunts, so now it's just Head Over Hunt.

Also, thanks @aquivercactus for sending in the request. I hope this is similar to what you had in mind. And I've planned at least one other part to this so I'll tag you when I post that.

Pairing: Arthur Ketch x Reader

Warnings: Blood, heavy make-out, groping, implied smut.

Word Count: 2143

The air was cold and chilling when you stepped out of the British Men of Letters owned Chrysler. The light coat couldn't stand against the winter air. As your back met the metal of the vehicle, a shiver ran up your spine. You could've stayed inside the car, where the heater was tuned just to your specific modifications. But the air suffocated you, the heat... it brought it all back; the fight with your brothers. The brisk air, as shallow as it made your breath, felt much more inviting. The chill distracted you from the shit show that was that afternoon. And, as the sun set over the mountains, and the storm clouds moved in, promising snow within the next hour, you wondered if you'd made a mistake in accompanying Arthur Ketch on this hunt.

"You seriously want to go on a hunt with that prick?" Dean had spat, staring down at you with more disdain than he held for Crowley these recent weeks since teaming up with the demon to stop Lucifer.

After the vampires infiltrated the British Men of Letter's bunker, both Mick Davies and Arthur Ketch had been more than impressed with your skill set. At their request, you joined the organization, a little more thoroughly than the Winchesters, since you agreed to go on several hunts with Arthur, alone.

You'd hidden it from your brothers. Claiming to stay at the bunker, or complete simple "errands" hunts while they continued to work with the Brits too, spending time with Mick Davies. But Sam and Dean didn't trust them, especially Ketch.

Dean had been close to shouting when you finally admitted to your brothers that this weekend you'd be hunting with Ketch. Dean had been close to shouting, the only thing keeping him in line was Sam.

"What Dean MEANS to say is, are you sure it's such a good idea?"

"No," Dean stopped his brother. "That's part of it, but I don't trust that British suit wearing monkey for a minute alone with you." He waged a pointed a finger in your face to emphasize his key point. "You aren't going."

Something on your face tipped Dean off. Maybe it was the alarm in your widened eyes or the way you bite your lip; Dean realized the truth.

"You've been already hunting with that creep!" Now he was shouting.

You kept your eyes on your eldest brother, ignoring Sam's shock dissolve into disappointment as you felt yourself losing your grip.

"I'm sorry I hid it from you guys. But I'm not a kid anymore. I can choose who I hunt with." Your tone was even, but lacked even an ounce of empathy, trying to keep your calm steady as Dean glared down at you like a disrespectful child.

Dean didn't say anything in response but turned towards Sam, who tried to keep his face stoic through the entire argument. "Aren't you going to back me up on this?"

"Well," Sam began, rubbing his neck, his shoulders shrugging in defeat. "I'm not completely against Ketch or any of them. They've already been hunting-"

"You're useless," Dean told him before turning back to you for the last time. "Point is, I don't trust him with my little sister. And if I have to pick you up myself and lock you in your room, then by Chuck I will." Dean threatened, standing above you in a dominating fashion.

You flinched as you accidentally scrapped your wounded knuckles on the zipper of your coat. Unaware that in your thoughts, you were zipping up your jacket to stay warm.

You avoided looking at your hand from the time it collided with Dean's face until now. He'd stayed true to his word; the moment he tried to stop you from leaving all of your rage expelled, and it was almost a blur of how you'd managed to get away. You knew your brother loved you, but he'd never treat Sam that way.

"They didn't have the exact disinfectant I was hoping for," Ketch's voice brought you out of your memories. His form illuminating in the gas station light, which should've put him at a disadvantage. But he'd never looked better. It made you wonder how unflattering you appeared. "but this should do the trick."

You took the small bag from Ketch, looking in to realize that he'd also purchased a few bandages for your hand. "Thank you."

"How did you say you received that cut, again?" Ketch's eyes were teasing you, trying to persuade you into telling your secret.

"I didn't," you spoke as you turned your back, walking around the front of the car to get back to the passenger seat. "But if you must know, I fought a band of pirates this morning."

"I see," Ketch played along, bobbing his head as he disconnected the gas pump from the car. "Pirates in the middle of Kanas, what a rare find."

"Exactly." You didn't fight the grin on your face, as you swung your body into the passenger seat, letting the bag rest onto your lap.

When Ketch returned to his seat, you turned towards him. "How much further until we're there?"

"Well, we still have to get through the rest of this bloody state before we reach Wichita Falls, Texas. The GPS says it shouldn't be more than," he tapped a few buttons on the digital screen embedded into the car "four hours. Wait," Ketch paused, cocking a brow at you. "you do this for a living, shouldn't you know how far away we are from our destination?"

"Dean always drives, so I don't really much pay attention."

It was a simple statement, but careless your tone, it reminded Ketch of how much younger you were than your brothers; than him.

"I never quite grasped the age difference between you and your brothers. I mean, Mary must've had you-"

"Mary isn't my mother." It was said with a deadpan. "You don't think we're all one happy, normal hunting family, do you?"

"I beg your pardon?" Ketch said, glancing at you with uncertainty as he drove the car out of the gas station and back onto the deserted road.

"They're only my half-siblings," you clarified for the man, eyes engulfed with the scenery behind the window. "John was a real slut."

Ketch was no longer watching the road, fully immersed in your background. You turned your gaze onto the road, realizing Ketch was gaining speed on the only other car on the road. "Look out!"

Arthur was quick to swerve into the next lane, missing the car by not even a yard. He sped past the rustic truck, leaving it long behind as he grew silent, griping the wheel. In the midst of almost dying, you hadn't wondered about where Ketch's head was at.

Ketch apologized, and seconds later cleared his throat, keeping his eyes glued to the road. He silently cursed himself for almost hitting that car.

It hadn't been the first time you'd enchanted him with your charm. It was why he never rejected Mick's suggestions for Ketch to hunt with you. He enjoyed your company; too much if he were completely honest. He was visually satisfied any time he looked at you, but it was something about your demeanor, the way you held yourself with a calm confidence that was nothing similar to the boastful way he presented himself. It was the first time in a long time Ketch had been interested in more than a woman's body.

But now, he knew he needed to keep his distance. Ketch had to put up a barrier. He couldn't let himself feel anything for you; romance's only purpose was to get in the way; to get you killed.

"So," Ketch attempted to defuse any previous interest he had, but after a few moments, he caved. "How did the Winchesters find you?"

"I actually found them. My mom gave me a number in case something happened to her, so when she died about six years ago I called, and Dean picked up. John was already dead, but I never really wanted to know him anyway."

Ketch remained silent, not sure if he should say anything to what you'd said. He wasn't use to anyone so forthcoming about their lives.

But you mistook his silence for judgment. "Sorry, not everyone has sophisticated British breeding."

Ketch frowned. "You truly believe I am that stuck up?"

"No, just that you have a stick up your ass."

The statement would've pissed Ketch off, should've. But the lowkey grin on your lips made him smile too. Damn, he'd have to learn to stop that.

"Ahhh!" The sound forced a shiver through Ketch's body as he beheaded the last vampire in his sight.

His feet were moving under him before he had realized, running through the cave towards the pitiful sound. Ketch called out your name repeatedly. Seeing red, he searched the tunnels, nearly praying to find you before it was too late.

"Ketch!" Another high-pitched scream. Ketch cursed, the sound bounced off the walls, confusing him of where you were located. He yelled your name again, choosing a direction and hoping it wasn't the wrong one.

After turning the bend, two figures appeared, grappling on the ground like wild animals for dominance. It only took a second for Ketch to realize one of them, was you. The opposing vampire was on top of you, leaning down over your arm as you reached for the discarded machete out of your reach.

Ketch was quick to act, pulling the monster off of you, giving it a merciless end as he gave it a few painful blows before carelessly chopping it neck until beheaded. Covered in blood, Ketch kneeled down at your side.

"Are you alright?"

You nodded until you grimaced in pain when trying to stand. Ketch turned on his flashlight, to see where you were hurt. You flinched back at the light, showcasing your torn arm as you used it to block the light. Ketch noted it was the same one with your worn knuckles.

Ketch took your arm lightly to view before taking your hand in his, ignoring every barrier he'd had in place. "You'll need stitches. We should leave now."

Ketch aided you in standing on your feet, escorting you out of the tunnel, careful to step over the vampires corpses before reaching the fading sunlight of the woods. Ketch attended to your arm immediately after reaching the car. Neither of you spoke, aside from Ketch's apologies whenever you flinched in pain from the needle.

It was getting late; it was dark when Ketch finished, using only the light from the car to stitch you up. You both agreed to rest a night in a hotel before making the drive back home. Exhaustion was the underrated choice of vocabulary for what you both felt.

"Your room's here, across the hall from mine. If you need anything, please let me know," Ketch said once in the hallway of your hotel, turning his back to swipe his key card in the door.

But as he stepped inside, he turned to see you hadn't moved, a partly disappointed expression on your features. "Is it your arm?"

"No, it's just- never mind. Night Ketch," you called, finally entering your room. You shut the door, leaving Ketch alone in the hall.

Ketch stared at the door, several possibilities developing in his mind. What if you ached for him the way he did for you? He couldn't reside in his room knowing it was a possibility. When he could have you all to himself.

The temptation was too great as he stepped into the hall, letting his door shut behind him. He stood in front of your door, debating if he should knock.

Before he knew it, his fist was tapping the door. You opened the door, a little wide-eyed before Ketch leaned in and kissed you.

You instantly gave in, letting Ketch press you against the open door. You swallowed a moan, hungrily kissing Ketch as he was still getting use to the idea that he was, in fact, kissing you.

"I just don't want to be alone tonight," you whispered between kisses.

"I'm here," he motioned for you to wrap your legs around him, instantly pressing his forming bulge against your core.

You moaned slightly, the anticipation going straight between your legs as Ketch walked you further into the bedroom as the door shut closed.

Part 2

Tagging: @blasted-with-salt @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @deaths-maiden @jensen-jarpad @mycuddlycorner

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ragehappysecretsanta · 7 years ago

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Author: http://madprincevagabond.tumblr.com

Recipient: http://tarathemun.tumblr.com

Summary: The plan was flawless, the Heist perfect, Ryan was certain everything was going to be fine. Until Jeremy got shot.

Warnings: Mature, gang violence, small amount of angst, fluff, kisses and cuddles, language

WordCount: 2868

"Everybody hit the fucking deck!"

The shout that came from the Maze Bank entrance was followed up by the loud report of gunfire. The civilians inside screamed and fell to the floor, cowering as they caught sight of Los Santos' most notorious gang.

The Fake AH Crew!

The smaller man who'd initially yelled stood at the bank entrance smiling down at the crying, trembling civilians as his companions rushed in and set about their heist. His aviator glasses hid his eyes but they could almost see the glint of joy and satisfaction there. His white Stetson sat atop his head like an eagle on a cliff, his ridiculous orange shirt, purple blazer and yellow slacks a reminder to all that Rimmy Tim didn't give a fuck about fashion.

"Gavin get on those cameras and get security down!" shouted a tall man in a nice suit. Several of the hostages swallowed in fear as they recognized the Kingpen of the city, Geoff Ramsey and leader of the Fakes.

"On it Geoffrey!" a younger man with dirty blonde hair cheered in a British accent as he vaulted over the bank counter, shoving a teller out of the way and set up a laptop, quickly typing away at the keyboard.

"I'm in, the police haven't been alerted yet and the banks security system is down," Gavin smiled at his handiwork.

"Great now move your ass and help us maintain these hostages while Geoff and Vagabond get the vault open!" another young man with curly red hair shouted at Gavin as he pointed his rifle at one of the hostages who whimpered in fear.

"Micoo, Team Nice Dynamite boi!" Gavin smiled as he joined Michael "Mogar" Jones as the two began ziptying each of the hostage's hands together.

"Yeah boi! Hey, bet I kill more cops than your dumb ass!" Michael chuckled.

"Bet you can't!"

Geoff rolled his eyes as he looked to Rimmy Tim who gave a nod to say that he would handle anything on the ground floor and keep the two bickering lads out of too much trouble. He ran past Michael who tossed him a duffle bag he'd filled with explosives and paused his bickering with Gavin to give Geoff a glance.

"I expect some of that to still be in there when you get back," he said darkly and winked. Geoff smiled and nodded before dashing down the stairs in the direction of the vault. The fifth member of the heist followed, the hostages scooting as far away from him as they could, his reputation as the most vicious killer in the state prominent in their minds. The Vagabond, the faceless mercenary who had a higher kill count than he could even remember. As he walked by Rimmy Tim he paused and glared down at two of the hostages who he'd noticed were staring at him in fear. Their faces went pale at the sight of the black skull mask he wore facing them, emotionless.

Vagabond crouched down in front of them and tilted his head slightly. Slowly he pulled out his knife and played with it close to their faces, the hostages whimpering and sobbing in fear as they begged with their eyes and shook their heads.

The Vagabond chuckled darkly as he stood and placed a hand on Rimmy Tim's shoulder tenderly.

"Ryan please, the hostages are staring," Rimmy Tim whispered quietly to Ryan "Vagabond" Haywood so that the hostages couldn't hear his name, blushing slightly. Ryan chuckled and leaned closer.

"A lion does not concern himself with the opinions of sheep Jeremy," he whispered back using Rimmy's real name. The two shared a smile before Ryan pulled away.

"I'll be back soon dear, try not to have too much fun up here without me," he said aloud and smiled. Even though he wore the mask Jeremy knew that Ryan was smiling, something about the way his icy blue eyes pinched up at the ends. Jeremy smiled back and shrugged as he reached down and slapped Ryan's ass.

"No promises buddy!" he said. The two laughed, which caused the hostages blood to run cold. Ryan ran after Geoff down the stairs and shot at a security guard that was aiming his pistol at Geoff's back. The Kingpen whirled around and saw the body falling to the floor.

"Nice shot Ryan!" he smiled his thanks, Ryan nodding as the two continued to make their way to the vault. With Ryan standing guard, Geoff went to work setting the charges, backing up around the corner and giving Ryan a fist bump as he detonated the charges. When the smoke cleared Geoff darted in and began filling another duffle bag he'd brought with him with money, Ryan following suit, the duo working quickly.

"Shit! Geoff we got pigs!" Michael's voice called through their comm earpieces, along with the sounds of sirens, gunfire and Jeremy's laughter. Geoff glanced at Ryan who smiled proudly.

"That's my Battle Buddy!" he said causing Geoff to roll his eyes.

"We're almost done here, hold em off for a few more minutes and then get the fuck out on my mark!" he ordered Michael.

"Got it boss," Michael called.

Gavin covered the hostages while Jeremy and Michael shot out the doors of the bank at the cops parked on the street, the LSPD who refused to return fire in case they hit one of the hostages.

"Like shooting fish in a barrel!" Jeremy laughed.

"And the best part, I'm getting WAY more kills than Gavin!" Michael laughed.

"Oi, just you wait you pleb! The heist isn't over yet!" Gavin whined from his spot.

"Yeah but this contest is!" Michael laughed as he put a bullet through the head of another cop who was dumb enough to stand up out of cover.

Rookies! Jeremy thought. That's when he noticed that one cop was hanging back from the main group.

That's strange, why would he be out there? Why is he holding that rocket launcher? Oh shit! That's a rocket launcher! he thought as he watched the cop load the weapon.

"Rockets!" he yelled as he slung his rifle over his shoulder and cartwheeled to the right, his old acrobatics training kicking in as he landed on his feet and immediately sprang into a back handspring with the momentum, pulling his pistol out of its holster as he backflipped and took a shot at one of the cops and landing the shot perfectly before landing and putting as much distance between himself and the bank entrance. Michael darted to the left and dove behind some cover just as the explosion rocked the front of the building, sending dust and chunks of concrete flying everywhere, the hostages screaming and diving for cover.

Gavin squawked and dove behind the front desk as another rocket hit, closer this time, blowing the doors into the building; hostages screaming and scrambling to get out of the way. The force of the second rocket exploding sent Jeremy sprawling to the floor, the shorter man rolling to the side just as a heavy piece of concrete landed where his head had just been. Peeking over the edge of the desk, Gavin saw the LSPD moving in.

"Guys we've got incoming!" he shouted as he leveled his golden gun and started dropping cops left and right. Michael not one to be outdone, especially by the Brit, raised himself to a knee and also started firing.

"Fuck you popo!" he shouted. Jeremy stood and pulled the pin from a grenade and tossed it to the entrance where the cops were.

"Geoff we have a situation," he said into his comm.

"What kind of situation?" Geoff asked worriedly. The grenade exploded and Jeremy activated his comm again.

"That kind," he said. He heard Ryan giggling which made him smile and Geoff groan.

"Fine! We're done here, time to haul ass!" he said. Jeremy confirmed and darted over to Gavin, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Geoff says time to bug out bud," he said.

"But I haven't caught up to Micoo yet!" Gavin complained. Jeremy rolled his eyes.

"Have fun dealing with your fucking kill count while we leave your dumb ass behind then," he shrugged and vaulted the desk as Gavin let out an indignant squawk, firing several shots and landing each one, the cops dropping like flies.

"Michael time to pull out!" he called.

"That's what she said!" Michael grinned. Jeremy groaned and was about to make a snarky reply when he felt white hot pain rip through his thigh and then his left shoulder as bullets struck him. Crying out in pain Jeremy collapsed to the floor and rolled behind cover beside Michael to avoid any more shots.

"Mother fucker!" he shouted as he propped himself up with a groan.

"Lil' J!" Michael yelled and crouched to check on Jeremy.

"That fucking slut! How am I supposed to play Xbox now you son of a bitch?!" Jeremy groaned in anger, his Bostonian accent started to emerge, but managed a painful smile to show Michael he'd be okay.

"Geoff we need to go now! Jeremy's been hit!" Michael yelled into his comm as he stood over Jeremy and took out the fucker who'd shot him.

"Jeremy's been WHAT?!" Ryan shouted.

"Fucking calm down it's not too serious but he needs a medic, we just gotta get the hell out now!" Michael shouted back.

"Let's go!" Geoff called and Michael looked up to see the two gents emerging from the stairs, Ryan whipping out an RPG, his prized baby which he dubbed "Darci" for some god-forsaken reason, out of nowhere and took aim, sending a projectile streaking towards the cops. Bodies flew and blood went everywhere, clearing a way for the Fakes. Ryan immediately rushed to Jeremy who was clutching his leg and shoulder and gritting his teeth in pain. Without hesitation he scooped the smaller man up in his arms and rushed to the door, the others following close behind.

"Merry Christmas motherfuckers!" Michael cheered as he tossed two explosives behind him, one in the bank with the hostages and one as he passed the cop cars, detonating both.

"Was that really necessary boi?" Gavin asked smiling over at Michael.

"No witnesses Gavvers!" Michael yelled as he turned to fire at the remaining cops behind them.

"Jack we need evac now!" Geoff called into his comm as the group darted down an alley, Gavin and Michael covering their retreat and Ryan carrying both the duffle bag of money and a protesting Jeremy.

"On it Geoff!" Jack's voice replied.

"Hold on Jeremy we'll get you help! Hang in there baby!" Ryan said worriedly.

"For fucks sake Ryan I'm not dying I just got nicked!" Jeremy groaned out through gritted teeth. They came to a halt at the end of the alley as a limo screeched to a stop in front of them. The window rolled down and Jack Pattillo's bearded face appeared.

"Get in fuckers!" he yelled. The group dove in as Jack hit the gas and took off, weaving through the streets of Los Santos, Michael and Ryan dropping proxi mines out the windows to block their escape, all the while Jeremy groaning in pain as Geoff and Gavin did their best to keep him still and stop the bleeding.

They made it to one of their safe houses, Geoff calling ahead to B-Team to have medics standing by to meet them. Ryan didn't even wait for Jack to come to a complete stop but scooped Jeremy up and flew out the door, running quickly into the safehouse and taking Jeremy to the medics.

"We'll take him from here, you need to wait. We'll let you know when you can see him," Caleb said gently but firmly when Ryan tried to follow the group of medics as they wheeled Jeremy into another room. Ryan growled dangerously but Caleb was unphased, glaring into Ryan's eyes with zero fear.

"You want Jeremy to recover? Then stay out of the way and let us do our job! We won't let anything happen to him Ryan, I promise he'll be okay!" he said.

"He'd better be or so help me Caleb they'll never find your remains!" Ryan snarled.

"Noted," Caleb said and turned to follow his team. Ryan stood there for a minute suddenly feeling very helpless and scared. The adrenaline from the bank heist began to die down and Ryan felt himself start to tremble with worry. A hand fell on his shoulder suddenly and he looked to see Geoff standing there with a reassuring look on his face.

"Hey, he'll be okay. C'mon and sit down while you wait. I'll stay here with you," Geoff said softly and guided Ryan to a nearby table and sat him down in a chair, pulling one up beside him and sitting next to his friend.

Minutes passed into hours and Ryan grew increasingly worried and impatient, fidgeting and then eventually pacing. Geoff wouldn't allow him to leave though, kept telling him that everything would be okay, that Jeremy would be fine.

"I don't hire mediocre medics to take care of my Crew Ryan. I only trust the best of the best to take care of you idiots," he said. Ryan nodded miserably and hung his head, trying not to fall apart. Jeremy had to be okay! Geoff made him eat some pizza and drink some Diet Coke, making sure Ryan took care of himself. He remembered what Ryan was like after what happened to Ray, a ghost of who he'd once been and he didn't want to see the man go through that again. It had been a hard time on every member of the Crew, but it had hit Ryan the hardest, the man refusing to eat and barely sleeping.

Finally Caleb walked back in with a smile on his face and said that Jeremy was perfectly fine and that Ryan could go back to see him. Ryan offered Geoff a thankful look and then dashed off in the direction Caleb indicated. He slowed as he reached the room, walking into the room and up to the bed, taking off his mask and dropping it on a nearby chair as he did. Jeremy lay there, sitting up and waiting for him, a smile lighting up his face at the sight of Ryan.

"Rye Bread!" he said happily. That was the breaking point for Ryan. His eyes filled with tears as he fell to his knees next to Jeremy, slowly reaching out and grasping the lad's hand in both of his.

"I thought I was going to lose you. I couldn't lose my moon and stars," he said softly, face wrinkled in pain and tears fell down his cheeks, his face long since cleaned of the paint. Jeremy smiled and pulled Ryan over to sit on the bed beside him.

"I wasn't hurt that bad buddy, and Michael had me covered. And thanks to you I got here before I lost too much blood. I'm okay Ryan, I'm safe," he said gently. Ryan sobbed, leaning in and hugging him, pressing soft desperate kisses to the lad's head and face, tears rolling down his cheeks. Jeremy hugged him back and made soft comforting noises as he rubbed Ryan's back, holding him tightly.

"C'mere," he said after a minute and scooted over on the bed, patting the space for Ryan to lay down with him. Ryan hesitated but when Jeremy said he was okay again and gently coaxed him he got into the bed beside the lad and cuddled up next to him.

Jeremy wrapped his good arm around Ryan's shoulders and pulled him close, his injured arm he used to hold one of Ryan's hands, rubbing it soothingly with his thumb. Ryan lay his head against Jeremy's chest, grateful for the warmth of his body and the peaceful sound of the lad's heart beat as he trembled, every now and then he hiccuped.

"Hey, I'm not dying on you okay? We're the fucking Battle Buddies, we take care of each other," Jeremy said looking down at Ryan with a smile. The gent looked up and sniffled leaning up and kissing Jeremy.

"Battle Buddies, forever," he spoke their favorite saying as he began to calm down.

"Battle Buddies forever. I love you Rye Bread," Jeremy said and kissed the top of Ryan's head, giving him a little squeeze.

"I love you too Jer Bear," Ryan returned with his favorite nickname for Jeremy and buried his head against Jeremy's chest, hugging him tighter, almost afraid that if he let go he'd lose Jeremy forever.

"Hey, you wanna know something?" Jeremy asked. Ryan looked up, his beautiful icy blue eyes searching Jeremy's chestnut brown ones.

"Hmm?" he hummed.

"When I get better, we're gonna fuck for a week!" Jeremy said and waggled his eyebrows. Ryan laughed and hugged Jeremy again.

"Looking forward to it dear," he said as he leaned up and kissed Jeremy again. The lad returned the kiss before resting his cheek against the top of the gent's head. The two fell asleep like that, cuddled up to each other in a tight embrace, both thankful to have the other.

#Ragehappy #Jeremwood #madprincevagabond #tarathemun #rhss17

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beatrice-otter · 8 years ago

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Fic: Hello, Piccadilly, Hello, Leicester Square pt 1

Title: Hello, Picadilly, Hello, Leicester Square Fandom: Wonder Woman 2017 Characters: Diana Prince, Etta Candy, Author: @beatrice-otter Rating: kid Summary: Diana can't go back to Themiscyra. She can only go forward into a new world and a new life. At AO3 and Dreamwidth

Etta knew before they made it back, that Steve was dead.

"But we could not call or send a message," Diana said, brows furrowing.

Etta sighed and took the strange woman's hand. "That's how I knew, dear. Steve was the one with all the codes … and Steve was the one most likely to be able to charm himself the use of someone's phone or telegram office if those codes didn't work."

"Because he was a spy, used to lying and manipulating?" Diana asked. "But Sameer is a con artist, which means he is also skilled at lying and manipulating. That is how we got back to England."

Etta looked Diana up and down, in the nurse's uniform that didn't sit quite right, at Sameer in an orderly's uniform. Charlie was in his regular uniform, and she presumed Chief was, too; she'd never met him in person but he seemed to fit the way Steve had described him. "I can see that," she said.

"But Diana," Sameer said, "Steve wasn't as good at lying as I am, but there were a lot of stories that he could tell that people would believe from a blond, blue-eyed American that they'd never believe from me."

"Exactly," Etta said. "Anyway, it was always a long-shot of a mission, wasn't it? And then we heard that something big had happened at Veld, but no word from you. That was … either Captain Trevor was dead, or he was badly injured."

"He is dead," Diana said. "He died destroying a plane filled with poison gas enough to kill everyone within fifty miles."

"He'll get a medal for that," Etta said. "Not that it matters, with him not around to enjoy it." She bit her lip and looked down at the floor.

"What is a medal?" Diana asked.

Etta looked up at Diana, but either the other woman was the best liar anybody had ever seen, or she was entirely sincere. More than ever, Etta wanted to know where Steve had dug up the strange woman.

But—she glanced around at her fellow secretaries, all industriously working away and studiously not looking at her or the strange party of people gathered around her desk—this was not the time or place to share stories.

"Why don't we find a better place to talk?" she said, standing up and gesturing for them to follow her out of the secretarial pool. Steve didn't have an office of his own, being so seldom in London and space being at a premium, but he was hardly the only Intelligence officer in the same straits and there were a few rooms set aside for them to use for private conversation when they needed it.

The private rooms were up a floor on the other side of the building. It had always been inconvenient, but it did mean that they were out of the way. The one Etta chose wasn't large, and there weren't enough chairs, but it had a door that locked and thick enough walls that you couldn't hear what was going on inside, which was more than enough for their purposes.

As she led them there, she could hear the men explaining medals and such to Diana.

"Captain Trevor never did say where you were from, Miss Prince," Etta said once they were all in and the door closed behind them. "And I'm rather curious to know myself, considering how little you know about, well, everything."

"I am Diana, Princess of Themyscira," the other woman said. "Daughter of Queen Hippolyta and Zeus. I came to Man's World to destroy Ares, the god of war, and I have done so with the help of Steve and these men."

"You … what?" The one explanation Etta hadn't considered was that the pretty woman might have come out of a loony bin somewhere, but that sounded like it almost had to be the case, now, didn't it? Except why would Steve Trevor, who was ordinarily fairly level-headed, have dragged such a crazy person along through a battlefield? Diana was gorgeous, but Steve wasn't one to let a pretty face carry him off.

"It's true, Miss Candy," Sameer said. "We saw it!"

"Aye, that we did," Charlie said. "She and Ares were throwing tanks around, and lighting bolts, and she can fly! We saw her, with our own two eyes!"

"And she came out of that battle without even any scratches," Chief said. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. I mean, deflecting bullets with her bracelets is a neat trick, but she walked across a field on fire without getting singed."

"I don't know that I believe the Ares she was fighting was really a god," Sameer said. "There's only one God, and his name is Allah. But certainly he was at least a very powerful djinn."

"God, hell," Charlie said scoffing. "It was the Devil, pure and simple."

Chief shrugged. "I suppose it could have been an Above Spirit, but why couldn't it really have been Ares?"

"Thank you, Chief," Diana said. "Why do you not believe me that it really was Ares?"

"Because they're all monotheists," Chief said. "They believe there's only one God. Most white folks—and Arabs, like Sameer—think that it's a betrayal of their god to accept that others exist. And that includes Zeus and Ares and all the rest. So they have to come up with some other explanation."

"Well, whatever Ares was, I'd like to hear the story," Etta said. "We've only heard dribs and drabs. But whatever it was that happened, they've pretty much shattered the Hindenburg Line. It's only a matter of time before the whole German Army collapses. The Bulgarians and some of their other allies have already sued for a separate armistice."

"And then the war will be over and there will be peace, yes?" Diana asked, anxiously.

"Yes," Etta said. "Then there will be peace. Though I don't know what kind of peace it'll be, with so much damage and bad blood on all sides. But at least we won't be throwing young men into a meat grinder for no reason. But like I said, I want to know what happened out there. And, she said, gesturing to Diana, "you can start by telling my what this Themiscyra place is, what Ares has to do with anything, and how Steve got caught up in you."

"It's a long story," Charlie said, "won't you be missed?"

"Besides, we need to find some place to stay," Chief pointed out. "This isn't the front, we can't exactly just camp outside of town."

"A spy's secretary has a great deal of leeway, and nobody knows Steve is dead yet," Etta said. "And I'll figure out rooms for you all. But first, tell me everything."

***

The story took the rest of the day, largely because they kept getting side-tracked with things about Man's World that Diana didn't know or understand, and things about Themiscyra that the rest of them didn't. Etta decided that Diana would stay with her, and found rooms for the men in a dingy boarding-house that British Intelligence used to stash people they didn't want anyone looking too deeply at. They met again after supper, this time in Etta's tiny bedsit, because it had the most privacy.

"But what about your reputation, begging your pardon, ma'am?" Charlie asked as she ushered them in.

"Well, with Diana here in her nurse outfit, that should take care of some of it," Etta said. "Besides, we're all socialists here, so there's a lot less fussing about propriety and such."

"What is a socialist?" Diana asked.

"Someone who thinks rich people shouldn't be the only ones to get nice things and a comfortable life," Etta said. "I like money, I really do, but I don't see why having lots of it makes you better or more important than other people."

"Neither do I," Diana said. "Does that make me a socialist?"

"Hang on a minute," Charlie protested. "It's not quite that simple!"

"And it's also not important at the moment," Etta said. "We've got a bigger question: how to get Diana back home." She turned to the other woman. "I wasn't able to find out what happened to the boat you came to England on, and my authority as Captain Trevor's secretary is quite enough to find rooms for the night but not enough to commandeer or buy a boat for you. Or a plane, if we had a pilot. That will all take money."

"I am not going home," Diana said. She was putting a brave face on it, but Etta could see the pain in her eyes. "I cannot. I doubt I could find it if I looked for centuries."

"What do you mean, you can't find it?" Chief said. "It can't be that hard. All we have to do is retrace the trip you and Steve made to get to England. Etta, you know where Steve was in the Ottoman Empire, right? That gives us a starting point, it's got to be close by that."

Sameer shook his head. "No, that doesn’t make sense. The Ottoman Empire is mostly landlocked. And they've been beaten back across the board. The only large bodies of water they've got access to are the Mediterranean Sea, the Black Sea, the Red Sea, and the Persian Gulf. Those are all small and well-known with lots of people living all around for thousands of years. There's no way there's a secret island hiding out in any of those places. I'd buy it in the middle of the Atlantic, maybe, but not the Persian Gulf. Or even the Mediterranean."

"Besides," Charlie said, "my brother's a sailor. It'd take five, maybe six days for one of our modern ships to get from Gibraltar to England, much less the middle of the Mediterranean. Double that, at least—maybe triple it!—for a sailboat. Steve wasn't gone that long."

Diana shook her head. "Themiscyra is protected by all of the gods, particularly Zeus and Athena. There is a barrier around it which no man can penetrate—at least, normally—and it moves. The stars above change periodically, and they changed in the two days Steve was on our island. The place he arrived is not the same place we departed from. And it will very likely have moved again since then. Without the favor of Zeus, there is no way to find it … and without the favor of Athena, no way to cross the barrier."

“And do you know how to get the favor of Zeus and Athena?" Etta asked.

Diana looked down at her hands. "I knew when I came with Steve that I would probably never see my home again."

"You mean … you mean you're going to be staying here? For the rest of your life?" Etta wanted to comfort the other woman; she looked a lot younger all of a sudden, and it was obvious she'd loved her home. (Etta, herself, had been glad to leave her own home and never looked back, but then she'd at least known what she was getting into.)

But at the same time … just getting Diana into ordinary-looking clothes so she could pass for the few days she'd been in London had been well-nigh impossible. Every other thing out of her mouth was something strange and unusual. And good, too, Etta really liked the Amazon way of thinking from what she'd seen of it, but not conducive to getting her a job and a home and everything. And true, Diana was a goddess of battle, but there wasn't much call for them in peacetime. Which this would soon be.

Etta stared at the men, appalled. What were they going to do?

#fanfic #Wonder Woman #etta candy

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creativesage · 6 years ago

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(via Why We Should All Consider Taking a Midlife Gap Year)

By Kate Torgovnick May, at TED

When Caroline Harper suddenly found herself jobless in her mid-40s, she decided to step off the corporate ladder and travel to all the places she’d always wanted to go, from Antarctica to Egypt. Here’s how it changed her life — and her career.

Caroline Harper loved her work negotiating big contracts in the oil and gas industry. “I liked the almost Games of Thrones strategic feel of it,” she says. “You’d stay up for three nights in a row and do the difficult work at 3 AM on that last day. It was a stamina test, an intellectual sparring match with the other side. It was very exciting.”

But in February 2002, Harper’s company sold the part of the business that she’d built and run. “I was made redundant,” she says.

She was in her mid-40s and could have used her connections to find a similar role at a different company. Or, because she was lucky enough to receive a good severance package, she could have taken time off to sit on a beach. Instead, she did something less expected. “I’d worked all my life and never did a student gap year,” says Harper. “I thought, ‘I’m going to go see a bit of the world.’” But she planned to do her gap year in two parts: she’d travel for six months, return to the UK, work as a consultant for a while, and take off for another six months of adventures.

Harper had an extra motivation to seize the chance to travel. Both of her parents had passed away relatively young — her father at age 64 and her mother at 56. “They’d both hoped that when they retired, they’d go off into the world and do all these things. And they didn’t get there,” says Harper. “I had money and time — usually you have one or the other. So I thought, ‘I’ve got an opportunity to do it now, when I’m healthy and I don’t have any dependents. Why not?’”

The time spent traveling was transformative for Harper. In fact, it led to her leaving the corporate world altogether and joining a nonprofit, Sightsavers, which works to end preventable blindness around the world and promote the rights of people with visual impairment. Below are six reasons she believes, if circumstances permit, we should all consider a midlife gap year.

You’ll get to see all the places you always dreamed of.

It didn’t take Harper long to make her itinerary. She used a simple question to guide her: What places had sparked her imagination over the years? Her list tended toward natural wonders and archaeological treasures — Machu Picchu in Peru, a cruise down the Amazon, the Galápagos Islands, Egypt, a trip to China to see the Forbidden City in Beijing and the terra cotta warriors in Xi’an. Her favorite stop? Three weeks in Antarctica, retracing the path that explorer Ernest Shackleton had taken from 1914 to 1916. “It was just beautiful — the penguins, the seals, the whales. It’s just genuine wilderness,” says Harper. “There was a hurricane at one point, and we had to hide behind an iceberg. We were in this big research vessel with sonar and GPS, but even then, it was quite scary. I kept imagining, What was this like in a rowboat? What was it like to lead people through this?” It was a humbling experience that helped jolt her out of the status quo.

You’ll discover skills you never knew you had.

Harper knew what made her so good at her corporate job: her knowledge of physics and energy use, her ability to understand legalese, and her aptitude for high-pressure negotiations. In traveling, she began noticing softer skills she’d never thought much about before. “I discovered that I’m quite good with sorting out logistics when things go wrong,” she says. “I also discovered that I was fascinated by more things than I thought I was. My career had been entirely focused on the UK, which had never bothered me. But I realized then that my world was way too narrow. I wanted to be more international.” Harper found she was surprisingly good at connecting with people. “I could talk to villagers in the middle of Pakistan the way I could talk to presidents of companies,” she said. She wasn’t sure what all of this added up to, career-wise, but she knew she wanted to find something that could tap these newly identified skills.

You’ll see things that will make you want to take action.

Harper found further clarity in some of the most heartbreaking moments of her travels, such as seeing people with leprosy begging on the side of the road in China. “You see these things on documentaries, but it’s just not the same as seeing people there in front of you,” she says. “You realize what a large proportion of the world doesn’t live the way we do [in wealthy countries]. That had a big impact on me.” She realized she wanted to do something that would help people, and not just lead to bigger profits.

You’ll notice themes in your life you may not have recognized before.

After Harper’s father passed away, she had gone to the library to return books that he’d borrowed. When she opened them, she noticed the type was incredibly large — while she’d known he was losing his eyesight due to diabetes, his vision loss was worse than she thought. Her uncle had also experienced blindness — after taking a drug to treat arthritis when he was in his 50s, his retinas detached and he could no longer see. Harper saw how this affected both men. “With my father, it was a loss of independence that led to depression,” she says. “And I saw the impact it had on the marriage between my uncle and aunt — she turned from being a wife to being a caregiver. There just weren’t a lot of services available at the time. Many people back then assumed blindness was the end.”

Harper herself is very short-sighted and is fully reliant on glasses and contact lenses. “I can’t see the big letters on the top of the optometrist’s board without them,” she says. But she’d never actually connected the dots between all these experiences until she opened up The Sunday Times in late 2004 — toward the end of her two-part gap year — and saw that a UK-based nonprofit called Sightsavers was advertising for a new CEO. “When I saw the ad, I thought, That’s me,” she says. “I want to do that.”

You’ll open yourself up to taking other big changes.

Over the course of her travels, Harper had begun to suspect that she wanted to work at a nonprofit. She applied to a few such positions and reached out to headhunters she’d worked with in the past about finding this kind of role. They were not encouraging. “One even said, ‘You’re too old to make a career switch,’” Harper recalls.

But she decided to go ahead and apply for the CEO position at Sightsavers. She felt it was a role that would benefit from her business acumen and from her abilities to work with logistics and to talk to anyone. And it was exactly the kind of job she knew she wanted — international, purpose-driven, and related to a cause that she cared deeply about. After a series of interviews with trustees and with the outgoing CEO, Harper was offered the job. She started there in April 2005 and instantly loved it.

“When I first told people I was joining Sightsavers, the guys in the corporate world were all, ‘Oh my god, why are you going into the charity sector? It’s all sandal-wearers and people eating oats. You’ll hate it,’” Harper says. “But in the charity sector, it was, ‘Oh my god, how have they hired a corporate woman? She’ll be evil and money-grubbing.’” After making her career transition, she realized how wrong both sectors’ impressions of the other were. “Things are not as different as everybody says,” she says. “People are people in both sectors — they like to support one another and have success. The only difference is the end product: is it that you made profits, or that you restored people’s sight?”

You’ll realize that there’s no time limit on trying something new.

During her 13 years (and counting) as CEO at Sightsavers, Harper has focused on expanding the organization’s reach. Sightsavers now works in more than 30 countries, and among other goals, it has resolved to take on trachoma — an intensely debilitating but curable eye disease — with the support of TED’s The Audacious Project. Harper believes we can end trachoma, which has been blinding people for thousands of years, within our lifetimes.

Even though her gap year was well over a decade ago, those experiences may send her in new directions yet. When Harper was five years old, she remembers, she and her family went to see Tutankhamun’s treasures at the British Museum. “I queued for hours and hours to see them,” she says. “I was utterly blown away.” That led her to visit Egypt during her travels. “It still captures my imagination,” she adds. “I’m wondering, when I leave Sightsavers at some point in the future, whether I’ll go back and do a degree in archaeology.” Harper is no longer scared of making such a big change.

Perhaps that’s the most important reason for a midlife gap year if you can, Harper says — while you may think that your days of taking bold choices are behind you, you’ll see that it just isn’t true. “The personal situation has to fit, and that can be very difficult,” says Harper. “But the advice I give people is, ‘Don’t feel like your life has to follow a predetermined path.’ Employers don’t expect you to have a tram-line CV.”

Harper believes that her gap year helped her author her own fate rather than just react to what happened to her. “Taking it helped me not to rush decisions,” she says. “If I had rushed, I probably would have gone back into the private sector. I might have earned more money, but I just wouldn’t enjoy my life as much.”

Want to join Harper in ending preventable blindness? Become a champion of Sightsavers’ drive to end trachoma — one of the first ideas funded by TED’s The Audacious Project — and receive regular updates on how you can participate.

[Entire post — click on the title link to read the article at TED, and to view a video of Caroline Harper’s TED Talk.]

#womenwhoinnovate #ted #tedtalk #sightsavers #gapyear #midlife #careers #careerchange #lifechange #purpose #lifepurpose #mission #carolineharper

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sinceileftyoublog · 6 years ago

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Live Picks: 7/31

Nilüfer Yanya; Photo by Molly Daniel

BY JORDAN MAINZER

A band that’s been around for almost three decades and a new artist that just might.

Spoon, Huntington Bank Pavilion

When review aggregator Metacritic came out with their top music of the 2000′s piece, the best-reviewed band was, to the surprise of many, Austin indie rockers Spoon. Unlike, say, Radiohead, Spoon didn’t have any singular masterpiece (though Kill the Moonlight comes close). Rather, they were remarkably consistent, releasing four terrific albums that decade. Almost ten years and three albums later, and Spoon is taking a look back at their past two decades with Everything Hits At Once: The Best of Spoon, a greatest hits compilation. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking: Spoon doesn’t have any “hits” in the traditional sense. But they do have songs popular enough for presidential candidates to use to pander to millennials. More importantly, they have great songs and a diverse catalog, so in that sense, they’re ideal for a “starting point” retrospective that could win them new fans.

Likewise, in assembling the track list, lead singer Britt Daniel opted for songs that illustrate the band’s change and growth over the years. The title track and Moonlight’s “The Way We Get By” showed their rock minimalism. Though the first dancey song they did was probably Moonlight’s “Stay Don’t Go”, the band opts for Gimme Fiction’s way more known “I Turn My Camera On” to lead off the entire compilation. The next track, They Want My Soul’s “Do You”, is an interesting second choice--if you knew nothing about the band and heard the first two on the compilation, you’d think Spoon were a mostly upbeat pop band. Yet, we forget how catchy all of Spoon’s songs are, and “Do You” is one of their best, the song that let you know they were truly back to Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga heights after the comparatively middling Transference. Soul’s “Inside Out” is an aesthetic outlier, its twinkling synth harp contrasting with the direct gravel of Daniel’s strained scream, one of the band’s most beautiful compositions. And of course, Ga Ga represented the point at which Spoon collided the worlds of schlubby hipster stylings with a chic sound, and it’s represented by the slinky, unassuming “Don’t You Evah”, horn-laden “The Underdog”, and Motown jam “You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb”, the last of which I’ll always point to if anybody ever again calls the band “stiff.”

Naturally, with the curation, there are some bones to pick, mostly with representation. Of the three okay to very good albums released this decade, two have one representative, which is fine. But their first two great albums also have one-song representation, which is a bit maddening. Spoon has never made a bad album or arguably a bad song, but they have too many great ones to include newer highlights over beloved older classics. As such, I’d substitute “Black Like Me”, “Jonathan Fisk”, “The Fitted Shirt”, or “My Mathematical Mind” for the meaty but unnecessary “Rent I Pay” or acoustic lightweight “I Summon You”. (Though the latter is one of Daniel’s favorite Spoon songs.) Otherwise, what else from Transference would you have included besides the dark and chugging “Got Nuffin”? And the Hot Thoughts title track is probably the best representation of what that album sounds like even if “Can I Sit Next To You” or “Do I Have To Talk You Into It” are better songs.

Spoon embrace the tradition of closing a greatest hits compilation with a new song, “No Bullets Spent”. Appropriately, it’s not an entirely new direction, since you’ve come to expect a little studio experimentation even if not exactly what you’ve heard from them before. But it does combine the pop vocal effects of their post-Soul sound with the new wave minimalism of their first couple releases. “What we need is an accident / No one to blame, and no bullets spent,” Daniel repeats, trying to figure out the best way to overthrow an oppressive master. Once an underdog, always an underdog, I guess.

Album score: 7.5/10

The inimitable Beck & Kentucky rock band Cage the Elephant co-headline. Psych pop band Wild Belle also opens.

Nilüfer Yanya, Sleeping Village

When I first saw the credits for Miss Universe, the long-awaited debut album from British singer-songwriter, guitarist, and composer Nilüfer Yanya, I thought it would be a case of too many cooks: There are nine different producers on the record (though no more than two on each song). Fortunately, the vision is singularly Yanya’s. Her malleable sense of composition and performance allows her to take even songs she wrote when she was 14 or 15 and make them totally new.

Miss Universe is, first and foremost, an impressive debut because it follows a high-level narrative that would be shaky in lesser hands. Centering around feelings of anxiety, isolation, and our constant desire for perhaps unattainable self-improvement, the record starts with “WWAY HEALTH™”, one of a few spoken tracks whose voice adopts the style of a company’s automated messaging machine. (In the world of the album, the full name of the company is “We Worry About Your Health”.) We know well that our options for what’s going on in our lives cannot be boiled down to cut-and-dry call center options a robot can solve, and so the world presented here to us, led by the album’s titular character, is disquieting. Fortunately, in contrast, Yanya lives in the imperfections. Her voice sways between creaky falsetto and deep deadpan in the charging, synth-washed “In Your Head”; during the verses, it’s layered with slight delay. She employs a similar style on standout “Baby Blu”, which combines elements of quiet storm with a steady drum beat. “Don’t tell me the truth / Tell me it’s alright,” Yanya begs of someone, perhaps a customer of the fictional company from the first track, but portraying her position of doubt as desirable because she’s actually feeling something. Similarly, the looseness of the music--the saxophone-soaked finger snaps of “Paradise”, grungy rhythm guitar and arpeggio electric of “Paralysed”, rushes of sparkling synthesizer on “Safety Net”--gives off an aura of rawness.

Miss Universe is filled with anthems for the flawed. “What a mess I’ll be,” Yanya repeats on the propulsive “Heat Rises”. “I hope you melt on the way back to your place,” she seethes at someone on “Melt”. “They all say I’m not okay / Such a shame, never felt so good,” she quips on “Monsters Under the Bed” before a climactic moment, repeatedly singing, “The feeling’s...good!”, increasing in volume with the thump of a drum beat that could just as well be her hitting her guitar. (You envision her experiencing exactly what she’s singing about.) And the wonderful “Angels” references an ambiguous experience so great it’s causing angels to nose-dive from the sky in jealousy of the earth dwellers, the most provocative image on the album.

While the glitchiness of the penultimate “automated response” track, “Give Up Function”, is perhaps meant to exude nervousness, its presented choices of “please give up or try again” are, really, the only choices any of us have. This makes album closer “Heavyweight Champion of the Year” so moving. The track’s about Yanya struggling to realize when she’s reached limits within herself, basically when to make the choice laid out in the previous track. What she does know is that the idea behind the title character, which reads like the crown of a fucked-up beauty pageant, is a non-existent entity, and the album’s thankfully filled with sly paeans to such a non-existence.

Album score: 8.3/10

Miss Universe by Nilufer Yanya

Pixx (singer-songwriter Hannah Rodgers) opens. Yanya also does a free in-store performance and singing at Shuga Records at 7:30 P.M.

Judah Friedlander, Hideout

For the majority of Judah Friedlander’s 2017 Netflix stand-up special America is the Greatest Country in the United States, he pretends he’s running for President and engages the audience on hot-button issues with the pretense of patriotism so absurd it constantly contradicts itself. The result is a set of clever, deadpan jokes, often one-liners and quick-thinking crowd-work, that brilliantly dissect the current political climate by, well, appearing a bit too close to it. It appears that two years later, Friedlander’s found a format that works on a night-by-night basis, allowing him to establish a base of responses to predictable audience answers while riffing on individual idiosyncrasies. His current tour, the Future President 2019 tour, purportedly has “new material.” Of course it does: The news gets more and more Kafkaesque every single day. Somebody’s gotta make us both get off our asses and laugh.

Political comedian Arish Singh opens.

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