#and Marlene saying ‘well you /are/ Steve Grant’

[daydreamerdrew]

Marvel Spotlight (1971) #28

[emotionlesshoe]

hello there! i was so happy to discover that we are now 300 on here! it really feels unreal, but i'm truly grateful for each and everyone of you ♡ to thank you, i created a prompt list on which you can pick up to 3 prompts and send it with the character you would like me to write for (there is a list as well of who i can write for) i'm used to writing one shot with a female reader but do not hesitate to mention if you would rather have a gender neutral or male reader! i can write fluff, angst and smut, however you have to be 18+ to ask for this last one! once again i really want to thank you all, for the love you guys send to the things i create, the likes, the reblogs, the comments, etc. hope you enjoy ♡

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hp:

george weasley

fred weasley

oliver wood

theo nott

ginny weasley

sirius black

remus lupin

james potter

marlene mckinnon

lily evans

mcu:

bucky barnes

steve rogers

sam wilson

matt murdock

frank castle

steven grant

marc spector

pietro maximoff

wanda maximoff

yelena belova

natasha romanoff

scott lang

peter parker

peaky blinders:

finn shelby

michael gray

john shelby

tommy shelby

ada shelby

alfie solomons

lizzie stark

twd:

daryl dixon

rick grimes

alden

glenn rhee

maggie rhee

michonne

rosita espinosa

tara chambler

enid

star wars:

obi-wan kenobi

poe dameron

anakin skywalker

pedro pascal characters:

din djarin

frankie morales/catfish

javier pena

stranger things:

jim hopper

steve harrington

robin buckley

5sos

calum hood

luke hemmings

ashton irwin

michael clifford

bridgerton:

benedict bridgerton

anthony bridgerton

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“It’s not like I married him on purpose, you know?”

"You can't just come back into my life whenever you feel like it. It doesn't work that way."

"We shouldn't have done this... it was a mistake."

“If I told you, you’d hate me forever.” 

“Yeah, okay, so the car is totally crashed. But what are we gonna do about the goat?” 

"Please, just look at me."

“I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but… you need to know something.”

"Oh, good, you’re here! Hold this."

"I said it first. It’s mine."

“Put the gun down, dearest. I have news!”

"What are you reading?"

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

"Congratulations! You’ll get to meet my highly dysfunctional family for Christmas."

"It’s scary to bring a child into this horrible, horrible world."

“I love you! No time to explain – gotta go.”

“Oh man, I’ve had the worst day ever.”

"Tell me it's not true. Please." "I did warn you not to trust me."

"You looked like you needed a hug."

"I really thought I could trust you, that you would be better than all of them... turns out you're even worse."

"Is there a particular reason why you are... naked?"

"The silent treatment? Really?"

“Forgive me if I’m misreading things, but do you want to make out?”

"I don't like this."

"I know how it looks, but it's not what you think!"

"I dare you!"

"You have something in your hair, umm... Do you want me to get it out?"

"Put some clothes on for the love of God." "Is that my shirt?"

"Why is Santa looking at us like that?"

"I can go anywhere I want... just not home."

"I swear if you go out of that door right now, you better never come back."

"Go ahead and leave then, just like everybody else did."

"Please come home."

"I think I'm in love with you and it's terrifying."

"Were you watching porn?"

"What would you say if I brought back home a duck?" "Y/N... what have you done?" "Meet Buffy... the Quacker Slayer."

"Put a baby in me."

"Why is it so hard to let you go?"

"Have we met before?"

"Do you have a picture of me as your lockscreen?"

"Let's run away."

[cometoceantrenches]

its for the extra credits [4]

SUMMARY: Seventeen-year-old Amaya Sloan didn’t really like this. The situation was just thrust upon her. What was it you ask? Well, its to tutor Hawkins’ resident Bad Boy: Billy Hargrove. Though things take a turn and it isn’t just about tutoring anymore…

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Just when you think you can escape, fate thinks differently and decides to spite you… or play with you. It’s all the same in the end anyways.

A/N: This is more of a filler. I honestly don’t know where I’m going with this. :/ ALSO WHOOWEE IM BACK WITH THIS SHIT ASDFGHJKL I hope yall enjoy 

Lili jumped out of the white Catalina, her backpack bobbing up and down behind her. Amaya followed suit as she absentmindedly flipped her hair out of her eyes. She turned, expecting to see her younger sister waiting beside her but saw her running off towards the Middle School building.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” The older of the two called out making the other stop in her tracks. The seventeen-year-old ducked into the car through the open window and pulled out a paper bag filled with packed lunch. “Don’t forget your lunch, dummy.”

Lili’s expression melted into a sheepish one as she stepped up to her sister. “Thanks, ate.”

“Someone’s gotta watch over you.” Amaya shrugged. “Now go on. You’re gonna be late for your AV thing.”

The thirteen-year-old beamed up at her and ran off towards the school, seeing the rest of the Party near the entrance and joining them after. Amaya simply smiled to herself, slinging her bag onto her shoulder and walking to the High School building. At the entrance, she was immediately greeted by Nancy.

“Morning, Amaya.” The brunette greeted, a small smile adorning her rosy features.

The two have been friends since pre-school. The two were of the same age, though due to Amaya starting her education earlier, she was always one level ahead of her. The Sloans lived across the Wheelers, making the two girls playmates since children. Nancy and Amaya shared a lot of memories with each other, always inseparable. Their friendship only grew stronger once Barb came into the mix. It was just the three of them against the world.

Things changed the second Barb disappeared. The eventual fight that all friends must experience came. It wasn’t really a screaming match, it was more of a heavy tension between each other. They spent less time with each other, making their relationship rocky, especially when Nancy broke up with Steve. In time, they made up and went back to their regular routine but there was always an underlying feeling that things will never be the same.  

“Good morning, Nance. Where’s Jonathan?”

“Here.” Jonathan came from the hallway next to them slipped into step beside Nancy. “What’s up?”

“I’m looking for Steve. He isn’t outside by his car like usual and I have his essay with corrections.”

Jonathan shrugged. “I saw him head over to the Middle School building. Maybe he just went to check up on the kids.”

“Yeah and he isn’t around this area to just jump attack you.” Nancy added, the three of them stopping at her locker.

Amaya chuckled at that. It was a thing Steve did often- jump out of nowhere and haul your ass off the floor. Most of the time he earned a slap to the shoulder. Once it was a punch because he decided to do it to Jonathan and the latter’s instincts kicked in.

“I feel like he will though.” Jonathan said as he waited patiently for Nancy to finish swapping her books, offering to hold her stuff so it wouldn’t be difficult for her.

As predicted, the said boy came up behind Amaya, this time clamping his hands down firmly on the girl’s shoulders only to have his foot stomped on by accident. She screamed in surprise as he immediately let go to release a howl of pain. The Filipina clutched a hand to her chest while Steve hopped up and down, as if his jumping would ease the pain off of his foot. Nancy and Jonathan were laughing, watching as Amaya landed a weak punch to the brunet’s shoulder.

“Speak of the Devil.” Nancy chuckled. “You really have to stop doing that, Steve.”

“I thought you guys would be used to it by now.” Said boy explained as he slowly set his foot down.

Their conversation was cut short when the bell rang. Nancy clicked her locker shut and the couple bid their goodbyes before scurrying off to their respective classes. At the end of the hallways, Amaya and Steve split.

“Oh wait!” The former jogged up to him and pulled out a rumpled piece of paper before handing it over. “I already added my corrections to it. Good luck!” She brisk-walked over to her Mathematics class, taking her usual seat near the back.

Classes went on as they usually did. A pop quiz here, some notetaking there and a few unanswered questions. The bell rang again, signaling the end of the current class and the start of the one before lunch. For Amaya, it was Chemistry.

She couldn’t help but feel a wave of dread wash over her like a bucket of ice cold water being dumped over her head. When she stepped into the classroom, she noticed that Billy was already on his seat, his feet propped up on his desk as he sent flirtatious winks over to Marlene Evans who was sat a couple of rows away from him to the right.

The blond’s view was obstructed when Amaya placed her things down in front of him. A low groan of protest escaped him. He let his head loll back, clearly unamused by the situation.

“Sloan,” He grunted. “You’re blocking my view.”

“Too bad Hargrove, that’s all you’re getting today.” The Filipina replied, neatly stacking her materials needed on the space of the rounded table the classrooms had. “Explain the VSEPR Theory.”  

Another groan of protest. “Sloan-“

“VSEPR-“

“Valence Shell Electron Pair Repulsion theory also known as Gillespie-Nyholm theory is when the valence electrons are placed far enough from each other to reduce repulsion against each other.” Billy drawled, inspecting the scratches of his worn-boots.

Amaya straightened her shoulder and inhaled haughtily. “Okay… correct.” To be honest she wasn’t really expecting that.

Unfortunately this didn’t go unnoticed by the blond. “Look, I know you think of me as an idiot, don’t say otherwise it’s written all over your face,” The corners of his lips tugged ever so slightly when her face burned red from embarrassment. “But that’s only because I choose to not pay attention to shit as boring as this, m’kay?”

“Why?”

“Why not?” He shrugged. “I’m passing anyway.”

“But you’re throwing your intelligence out the window..!” Amaya huffed. “You could do so much more and you’re just taking your chances for granted just because you don’t find the topic interesting.”

For a moment, she saw his eyes flash with both anger and fear- like a cornered dog bearing it’s teeth, trying to ward off hostiles, as if what she said had triggered something inside of him. And in that moment, she felt as if maybe there’s a Billy she hasn’t quite seen yet. Sooner or later that helpless look disappeared and was replaced by amusement and the old shit-eating grin returned to his face.

Billy gave a low whistle, straightening up a bit. “Y’know Sloan, I’m starting to think you have a thing for me. You’re just displaying it in a weird, not-so-sexy way.”

The red that dusted the said girl’s cheeks deepened into a bright scarlet. Dammit- even if she hated him and every fibre of his being, she couldn’t deny the effect his smirk had. She felt like one of those crappy teen novels that she came across in the bookstore. “Wh- I- You-“

“Aww, look at you. You’re speechless.”

“Well, well… well I only care because I don’t want to fucking tutor you anymore when I know you’re capable of these fucking things.” Amaya snapped when she finally found her voice, but it was weak and cracked. Her arms flailed overhead for a moment.

Billy only chuckled. The bell rang once more and the teacher came in, signaling the start of class. Amaya only huffed again and turned in her seat to pay attention to the teacher. Shaking his head, a smirk still present on his face, the blond decided to do the same.

Mrs. Drake clapped her hands to capture the students’ attention. The lines on her face creased as she gave a small, somewhat cynical smile. “So students,” She practically chirped. “I hope you studied because I have a surprise quiz prepared for you.”

Her sharp eyes seemed to drill into the students she deemed “lazy” behind the moon-rimmed spectacles she wore. Like a vulture eyeing her prey, she narrowed in on the students who tensed or seemed to be anxious, squirming a little in their seats. All high students, no matter what year level, ethnicity or interests, agreed that Mrs. Drake fucking thrived on the pupils’ misery. Suppose it has something to do with the dismay brought when her son dropped out of college.

As the middle-aged woman handed out the printed exams, students gave each other sideward glances, a secret message saying one thing: she’s batshit crazy. Mrs. Drake shimmied to the front and cleared her throat.

“The whole period is dedicated to the quiz. Take your time, or not. Just make sure you don’t fail my class. And don’t let me catch you cheating. You may start.”

And with that, the class shot off into answering the exam. Time seemed to drag as it went on. Students scratched their heads, racking their brains for answers. The sound of pens scratching against the paper or the friction of the eraser was heard here and there.

Amaya took a peek at her surroundings. There were people who were tapping their pens against the table, their minds ticking. Others were flying down the whole page, returning every once in a while to correct a small mistake. The rest were either done or didn’t give a shit. Billy was one of the people who was almost done.

The girl took a look down at her own paper. She herself was almost done as well- just a few more questions to go. So she answered it. But as she did so, she felt self-consciousness bite at the back of her head. What if there were many questions that she had answered wrong? What if she got wrong answers as karma for thinking Billy is lower than her?

Waving it off, she finished the last of her questionnaire when the bell rang. Almost at once a whole wave of relieved students sighed, glad that their test was over. Some worried, thinking that they would fail while some were frustrated, being unable to finish on time.

Each student went out of the classroom after handing their exam over to Mrs. Drake. Amaya was one of the last people since she sat near the back. Billy had gone before her already so when Mrs. Drake gave her a pointed yet unreadable look, chills ran down her spine and gave her an uneasy feeling.

She was just two steps out of the classroom when a firm grip reached out to her arm. As reflex, her foot jutted out to stomp on her assailant only for her to trip a little towards the direction she stomped at. It was Billy who chuckled at her clumsiness, his cronies along with Carol snickering behind him.

“Can’t help but notice that you were struggling a little during the test, Sloan. Looks like I’m not the one who needs tutoring.” He drawled, letting her arm go.

Wait what the fuck? How would he know that? Was he looking at me? Amaya thought, quickly shaking it away as she stormed off in the other direction, towards the cafeteria where she would meet her friends. She heard Tommy H.’s boisterous laughter as she neared the cafeteria.

God they’re so annoying.

“Whoa Maya,” Steve’s voice snapped her out of her trance, making her bump into him. His arms reached out to steady her. “You okay there? You seem distracted.”

Amaya shook her head as she regained focus. “Yeah- just, Mrs. Drake and her tests.”

Steve let his tongue poke out as e made an overly exaggerated disgusted face. “Bleghhh.” He shuddered, making Amaya laugh a little.

“Come on weirdo. We gotta eat.”

For now, maybe she’d have to let Billy slide. But she’ll never forget how his attitude had suddenly shaken her up that day.

[je-suis-clarisse]

Capture (Part 2)

England: Howard Stark sat at his desk, uncharacteristically quiet. Across from him sat Peggy Carter, her hands folded in her lap. Neither was looking forward to the meeting they were having today. Howard had made the phone call whilst Peggy had begun the investigation into Clarisse du Volde's disappearance.  Given her work during the first World War and the Civil War, how she had stuck it out to the end; they knew she wouldn't abandon her post to leave and lead a life of luxury, which she could have easily done. She had been a spy and also a nurse; she had done work with the resistance.  Clarisse wanted to help people  and she did so, no matter the cost to herself. Peggy knew that Elijah had lectured his good hearted daughter on her position. He hadn't broken through her thick head, but she had clearly not changed his position about offering himself up to help with the war effort.  Like father, like daughter. It was Peg who saw Elijah Mikaelson walk in and as he did so, she stood up. Howard followed suit. If Elijah was surprised, he didn’t say so. He was a man known for keeping his head and his emotions in check. However, Peggy knew that this wouldn’t go well. Not when they told him that Clarisse was a prisoner of war. They’d discussed the possibility of her death, but Peggy surmised that since Hitler was curious about the occult and the possibility of immortality, he would keep her alive. “If anyone can survive, it'd be her," Howard mused. "She's like Steve. Wily and spirited. Always thinking." He was always trying to consider the positives. He'd put his fortune on it. Still, he knew they were up against huge odds. Odds that, at this point, were not in their favor. Peggy was the realist but she wasn't about to burst Howard's high hopes. Nor did she want to face the possibility that the cheerful woman would never bother her again. “Old friend, how are you?” Howard asked, shaking Elijah’s hand as he came into the room, taking his hat and setting it and his jacket on the coat rack. “I’m well enough. But I suspect that since I’m here, I’m about to hear something I don’t particularly want to hear,” Elijah replied, looking at the both of them. Taking a seat, he brought his left ankle to his right knee, smiling appreciatively as Howard poured him a drink. Bourbon, Elijah nodded approvingly as he raised it to his lips. He might be a millennia old, but he did appreciate Stark's expensive and refined taste. Howard considered how to tell him when Peggy just put the ring down in front of the Original Vampire. As he looked over at her, he was once again in awe of the strength she displayed. If Peggy was frightened, Howard would never know it for her face was a portrait of mystery. For a moment, she paused, expecting something explosive. Instead, Elijah's movement was precise and fierce; much like a predator about to pounce. His eyes darkened for a moment as he looked to the ring, lifting it up and holding it between his fingers. As he looked at the engraving inside of it, he pressed his lips together and Elijah closed his eyes. There was a lethal edge to his voice as he spoke, yet Peggy also recognized a slight hitch, the one that revealed a minuscule amount of fear. Not remarking upon it, nor assuring him that they'd have it under control, Peg let him break the silence.   “Where did you find this?” “It was brought to us by one of the nurses that worked with Clarisse,” Howard spoke up, finally finding his voice. “She was taken after her shift was ending. We suspect she dropped it as a sign to us...and in turn, you.” “I told her to be careful…” Elijah murmured under his breath. If his temper was flaring, he kept it under a cool exterior. Peggy admired that. There had only been one moment where she wondered if he would break. Deep down, she wished Risse would come bounding in the door, her green eyes lively with her usual joie de vivre, but there was no chance of that. 'You'll keep me apprised?'' Elijah asked, his voice still that terrifying tone of calm, as he finished his bourbon and set the glass down. "Of course," Peggy responded. Already her mind was working in twenty different directions. Namely how to keep Elijah from marching into Germany and ripping the heart out of anyone who looked at him wrong. Elijah Mikaelson squared his shoulders as he took his hat and coat and headed out the way he came in, though his rage was white hot. Keeping her ring close and the small photograph of her in his billfold, Elijah began to plot. To Germany he'd go. But this required thought and a great deal of precision. Not to mention, stealth. As he climbed into the back of the car, telling his driver where to go, he drew out the photograph and looked at her smiling visage whilst he gave a smirk. It had been a rare moment of playfulness where he indulged her by posing for a few pictures. On the back was her calligraphic handwriting, 'Papa, I love you more than I do Clark Gable! Always and forever, your Risse.' With a tremor to his voice, Elijah put the picture away and murmured,  "I will find you, Risse. I promise." Somewhere in Berlin. "Oh good, you're awake." Opening up her eyes, Clarisse looked around. She was in a cell. Slowly rising up, she braced herself on the wall, willing the world to stop spinning. Every part of her body ached and she didn't even think about what had been done to her. She had no doubt that had she been aware. She would have ripped the offenders to shreds. She rubbed her finger, missing the feeling of gold on her finger. She hoped by now someone had turned it in. She didn't dare hope for a quick rescue, but she hoped someone would be aware. Her mind went to Elijah and she knew that beneath his fury, he'd be worried sick. She liked to think she knew him well. Still, thinking of him made her sad and she had to stop thinking of him before she began to cry. Her hand went to her neck and at least her necklace was still on. "Where am I?" She asked, eyes settling on the fellow across from her. "Berlin. We're Die Kuriositäten des Führers." She raised a brow. The Fuhrer's Curiosities. How...lovely. To be reduced to a sideshow act, essentially.   "They mean to figure out what makes us immortal." He continued. "They exploit our weakness, so I hope you're tougher than you look. It gets very lonely here. The girl who stayed in that cell before you died. I probably shouldn’t have told you that, but I think you should probably know."   "What are you? And who are you?" "You can't tell? I'm a werewolf. My name is Silas. I’m a Polish Jew, so if you don’t want to talk to me, I understand," he spoke to her, explaining the accent that she hadn’t been quite able to place. Still, she granted him a smile. Why that mattered, she just didn’t understand. Christ himself had been a Jew; would Hitler have put him in a camp too? She had many questions. Perhaps in her time here, she and Silas could distract themselves by asking the unanswerable. Still, he was waiting for her reaction, and she did so. "I’m Clarisse. I’m a Vampire and I don’t care that you’re Jewish," she replied, earning a smile back from him. "I could tell. You tried to bite the guard when they first brought you in. They gave you a sedative and something else. That was three days ago." Silas continued, reaching through the bars to shake her hand, which she met readily. Her eyes widened at that. Three days past? She sighed, pushing her hair back out of her face and sat down, doing so in a position where they could keep talking. At least she wasn’t alone in this ordeal. They spent more time deep in conversation, learning more about Silas and his life. He had been pulled from the Auschwitz camp and brought here. Her heart went out to him and she would have hugged him if she were able to. He chattered on and she learned about Hitler and his desire to become immortal. “He wants, quite literally, to take over the world,” Silas mused. “May that never happen!” Clarisse agreed and kept this all to her mind, trying to remember it all, so she could pass it along to Peggy. This fellow was worse than even Red Skull, she was certain of this. Or perhaps just on par. It didn’t make sense to her that men such as this could move up the ranks and become what they had. Why? And why had the world turned a blind eye to the plight of the suffering? War was a blight on humanity. It often solved nothing. For every dictator brought down, another rose up in their place. It was a vicious cycle. As she was about to respond, two of the SS marched in, pulling her out. "I can walk on my own," Clarisse hissed at them, wrenching her arms from their grips. It made no sense to run yet--she had no idea where she was going to go. At the very least, she would have to endure a week here; learn the ins and out, get to know those working here, and to learn the layout of the building. To do so prematurely would only serve as a mistake and they would never allow her to make the same mistake twice. Walking with them to wherever, she raised a brow as they entered the laboratory, scowling as they made her sit down in the most uncomfortable chair she'd ever sat in. If they were going to torture her, they had certainly picked the right chair to do so. However, she decided quickly to not cooperate, but also not to do anything to enrage them. She ultimately had what they wanted. They couldn't kill her--rather, it would be stupid to kill her. “We have done our research on you,” the woman spoke, looking to Clarisse. To her consternation, Clarisse simply raised a brow and remained silent. She would not give her the satisfaction of confirming whether her research was right or wrong. She was an actress. This was her moment to shine. Even if her talents were being wasted upon these tossers. These were the same people who would no longer hire Marlene Deitrich for God's sake! She wouldn't waste a bit of her talent on them. (Not that she was as good as Deitrich or Garbo or any of them.) “Born in 1772, the youngest of four living children. Your mother was pregnant several times but only had a few live births. And you.. you're not even a true Du Volde. You are...how would they have put it? A bâtard. Your true father was Louis Philippe II, Duke of Orléans. He was something of a libertine--just in case you didn't know. Your mother probably didn’t even know. When we took your blood, we did some testing." Clarisse stayed silent, not saying a word in response, though the word was offensive. Hearing the news of her true parentage was surprising, but she still kept her face blank. She refused to respond to anything they told her. She would not. If they thought by insulting her mother they’d get a rise out of her, they’d be disappointed. Though, she was surprised at the mention of Louis Philippe. She had never met him but had heard of him. He had been beheaded the month after Marie Antoinette. His own relatives and he had voiced support for the family to die. Still, she was curious as to how Vivian and his paths crossed. She had always joked she was royalty. Hearing this fact only confirmed it now, that she was right. Still, it was moot now. She listened as they continued to speak of her human life. It amazed her how much they actually had right. It was finally when they were silent that she spoke. “What a fascinating biography you’ve concocted,” she told them using some of the German she knew. “And you were turned in 1791.” The woman folded her arms over her chest. Clarisse couldn’t help but think she might have been attractive save for the black uniform and swastika emblazoned on it. If this was the master race, count her out. She was quite content to be an enemy of the Reich. For this, she went silent again. She did not want to speak of it, nor confirm it. Still, in those three days of unconsciousness, she supposed they’d confirmed what she wasn’t speaking of. The male gripped her chin suddenly, forcing her to look up at him and despite it not being ladylike, she spat in his eye. When he backhanded her, she laughed. If they wanted her to be the monster that they thought she was? Very well. “Was that meant to hurt?” she asked, smirking as he rubbed at his hand, cursing under his breath in German. “I’ve had children hit harder.” Clarisse leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs and looking around her surroundings more fully. It was a laboratory, one where instead of animal testing, they tested on herself and other immortal beings. She looked around for a telephone but didn’t find one, much to her chagrin. Their frustration was all too apparent as they strapped her into the chair, making it damn near impossible to break out. “We will find out how you became immortal,” The woman snarled. Clarisse bit on her bottom lip, feeling her fang make her bleed slightly. She was hungry. The scent of the woman before her was singing to the vampire, who could feel her eyes darkening and she closed her eyes once more, quashing her hunger for now. It was a mistake she wouldn't make again, because in the moments of her keeping her eyes shut, curtains were thrown back and the heat of the sun touched her unprotected skin for the first time in over a century. As they let the sunlight fill the room, despite the utter agony of her flesh burning, Clarisse refused to scream. The scent of her own charred flesh filled the place and howls could be heard all throughout. For a moment she wondered why, when she realized, she smelled like cooked meat. The wolves were likely starving. Cringing at the idea that she might be their meal, she surmised it to be a better fate than being a  Nazi plaything. Still, the pain was agonizing and she couldn’t even think straight. Seeing the two officials standing and taking notes enraged her to no end. They truly were monsters. How anyone could mistake her for a monster, she had no idea. But she was not that. No. She refused to accept that. She never could tolerate seeing someone suffer. But they thrived on it. If this was what being one of the Fuhrer’s ‘curiosities’ entailed, she would have no problem telling him to fuck right off. (She issued a silent apology to Elijah, who told her such coarse language should never leave her.)   When the sun began to sink low in the sky once more, the window was once again covered and blessed darkness surrounded Clarisse. They left her in the chair, going off to eat or to do whatever it was they were meant to. Her body was throbbing from the burns and she momentarily ached for the true death to come and claim her but that would be a betrayal to those who loved her and those she loved. She would endure. It was as simple as that. Besides, there were people out there who needed her help. Sitting idly would never do. When someone came and carried her back to her cell, she was amused to find that he had garlic on him and a silver crucifix at his throat. As if those things would stop her if she really meant to attack him. He lay her down gently and Clarisse was surprised, but she remained silent. The young man marched out and left a light on, that didn't cast much in the way but a lone yellow beam. "I am glad you're back," Silas spoke softly. "I am sorry you're in pain. I'd offer you my blood, but I think it would hurt you." "It would," she finally spoke after hours of silence. "But the thought is kind. However, I never leave home unprepared." Drawing off her necklace, pleased to find it still hanging around her neck, she paused before raising the vial of blood up. "That's handy!" Silas whispered to her and Risse chuckled for the first time in days. "My father told me to keep it in case of emergencies," she whispered back, opening it and downing the contents. It was one of a few vials she always kept on her person. She was simply grateful that they had not stripped her. Though they'd gone out of fashion some four decades prior, Clarisse was fond of her whalebone corsets. She'd gotten in the habit of wearing them again whenever she was on the field. Bullets ricocheted off the bone and the corset made it easy to hide things. In this case, several vials of blood. She would have to preserve them, using them only when she was desperate. But tonight, she would use this one. Downing the contents, she gasped feeling strength course through her frame, her burned flesh healing. She was as ever, appreciative. Even though he wasn't here, Elijah was taking care of her. Looking over at Silas, her emerald eyes shining in the dim light. "I know there are people probably out looking for me. But I'm determined to break loose before they get here. You in?" She asked, her smile widening when Silas agreed. "Then, let's get to plotting. Tell me everything you know."

[mysterylover123]

Top 5 Shipping Moments of 2016

Well, until this year ends, this will be the last of these I do. So enjoy last year’s biggest shipping moments, for better, for worst, for whatever you choose. 

#5. SOUTH PARK BREAKS UP EVERYBODY

Season 20 of South Park is mostly a big disappointment (like a lot of 2016) but the biggest one has to be the drop-kick to the gut for most SP shipping fans. Okay, not Creek shippers. But as a Kyman shipper, the whole breakup thing was hard. Basically, 2 episodes in to season 20, the girls all broke up with the boys (apparently a lot more people were dating in the SP-verse than we knew about), leaving all of our beloved heroes devastated, from Kenny to Butters to Stan staring at Wendy’s ‘I can’t fix you’, it was a shocking and haunting way to end the second episode. And among all those straight breakups, there was Kyle staring wistfully at a picture of Cartman. Subtly has gone out the window. 

#4. HAMILTON’S WIDE RELASE CREATES TONS OF SHIPS

Whatever floats your boat, but Hamilton was nice enough to grant us not only the popular Laurens/Alexander, but also Alex/Eliza, Jefferson/Madison, and Lafayette/Mulligan. While Hamilton was released in 2015, these pairings really started up around last year, when people started getting a hold of the soundtrack. Suddenly you heard these songs even if you couldn’t afford a broadway ticket, and the show became a gigantic phenomenon. The biggest ship in the fandom is probably Alexander/John Laurens, but that isn’t to say it’s the only one; there’s shipping going on in all corners of the Hamilton Fandom. Bet you never thought you’d be shipping 18th century historical figures.

#3. ADVENTURE TIME’S BROKE HIS CROWN

Marlene brings PB to meet her dad. A fun bit of Adventure Time girlmance gone unsubtle. For Bubbline shippers, although this episode was more about Marcy’s substitute Dad the Ice King and his issues, the best part was all the Marcy/Bubblegum subtext. Seriously, the episode plays like Marcy is bringing her girlfriend to meet her dad. Then there’s the nicknames, the holding onto each other while flying, the line ‘you always know which button to press’, Marcy denying she has a boyfriend (well, technically not a boyfriend), and PB putting up with the nutty Ice King for Marcy’s sake. 

#2. THE LAUNCH OF LAPIDOT 

Sure, there were Lapidot shippers prior to them becoming barn mates, but 2016 is the year when Lapidot pretty much became the dominant ship in the Steven Universe fandom. No mean feat considering that the two don’t have nearly as much screentime as the other Crystal Gems. Yet fanfic about them dominates. And yeah, there’s a lot to work with in 2016; from Peridot begging Lapis’ forgiveness, to the two filling their barn with ‘meep-morps’, acting like a married couple (with their own kid Pumpkin, no less), and just generally starting to get along so well you could hardly see one without the other...it’s no wonder, really, that the ship has taken off like it did. 

#1. CAPTAIN AMERICA SHIPPING WAR

AKA the alternate title to Civil War. Let’s face it, this movie ripped all of our hearts out. I’m sure it wasn’t just me. It doesn’t seem to matter who you ship in the Marvel Cinematic Universe; Civil War was dedicated to ripping out your heart and playing with it. Let’s see: Ship Pepper/Tony? They’re broken up now, and offscreen! You ship Wanda/Vision? Let’s have her run off and defeat him in battle! Natasha/Tony, Natasha/Steve, Natasha/Clint, Natasha/Bucky...honestly, it’s hard to say if ANY Natasha ship didn’t get their heart ripped out. Steve/Tony shippers basically got their hearts annihilated with a tank missile to the face. And hell, even if you are a hardcore Stucky shipper (like me), they still don’t exactly get a happy ending either! (stupidtriggerwordscryofreezerightthingbut stillhurtsbullshit) Bring on the fix-it fics!

[jazzworldquest-blog]

USA: Jack Kleinsinger's Highlights In Jazz 46th Anniversary Gala Thursday, February 28, 2019 8 PM BMCC TRIBECA Performing Arts Center

Tickets & Info

Each year, savvy jazz fans look forward to the annual Highlights In Jazz series. For almost a half century, the Jack Kleinsinger-produced events have brought together a multitude of beloved jazz musicians spanning an eclectic mix of generations and styles. The 2019 season is no exception, with four stellar concerts featuring some of the brightest luminaries in jazz today. The new season gets off to a roaring start with the Highlights In Jazz 46th Anniversary Gala, featuring pianist/vocalist Daryl Sherman, saxophonist Houston Person, trumpeter Warren Vaché, clarinetist/saxophonist Ken Peplowski, pianist Norman Simmons, bassist Boots Maleson, and guitarist James Chirillo. And as always at Highlights In Jazz events, a special surprise guest will be on hand. Listeners will be treated to unforgettable performances as these seasoned jazz veterans mix it up together and make the magic happen. “Producing all-star jams is my stock in trade,” Kleinsinger notes. “What you’ll hear at these concerts is different from what you’d hear in a club. These great musicians get together here to play with people they don’t play with every night of the week.” A mainstay of the New York jazz scene, Daryl Sherman has built a devoted following with her talent and creativity as a pianist and singer, and her distinctive take on the Great American Songbook. A frequent guest on Marian McPartland’s “Piano Jazz,” Daryl presided over Cole Porter’s Steinway at the Waldorf-Astoria for 14 years, and was legendary bandleader Artie Shaw’s vocalist of choice. She’s appeared with Bucky and John Pizzarelli, Bob Dorough, Wycliffe Gordon, Dick Hyman, Dave McKenna, Jay Leonhart, Howard Alden, Joe Temperley, and Vince Giordano and the Nighthawks, to name just a few. Saxophonist Houston Person is among the most in-demand tenor players in New York today. He’s known for his affinity with singers, honed during his 20-plus years with vocalist Etta Jones. Besides releasing dozens of albums as a leader in the company of greats such as Ron Carter, Steve Nelson, Cedar Walton, Bill Charlap, Joey DeFrancesco, Bernard Purdie, Les McCann, Benny Green, Grady Tate, Curtis Fuller, and other notables, Person has appeared on scores more as a sideman. Is there anything trumpeter, cornetist, and flugelhornist Warren Vaché can’t do? The New Jersey-born brass star has made his mark from Broadway pit orchestras to big bands to free-wheeling jazz ensembles. He’s appeared in the company of Howard Alden, George Shearing, Bucky Pizzarelli, Bill Charlap and dozens of others. Vaché lists Louis Armstrong, Roy Eldridge, Bobby Hackett, Fats Navarro, Tom Harrell and Ruby Braff among his favorite trumpet players. Saxophonist/clarinetist Ken Peplowski was still in elementary school when he landed his first pro gig, playing in a Polish polka band in his native Cleveland. From that moment, he knew the musical life was his destiny. Ken studied with Sonny Stitt, and played with classic bands like the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra and with Benny Goodman. He’s also collaborated with Mel Torme, Charlie Byrd, Peggy Lee, George Shearing, Hank Jones, Dave Frishberg, Rosemary Clooney, Tom Harrell, James Moody, Cedar Walton, and Bill Charlap. Ken has released several albums as a leader and appeared on more than 400 recordings as a sideman. Norman Simmons wears many hats, all of them gracefully: composer, arranger, pianist, educator, and more. In his native Chicago, he led the house band at one of the most renowned clubs of the era The Beehive, backing greats such as Wardell Gray, Lester Young, and Charlie Parker. Besides providing the arrangement for Ramsey Lewis’ hit “Wade in the Water,” Simmons is widely known for his work with legendary vocalists including Carmen McRae, Anita O’Day, Betty Carter, and Joe Williams, and for his special feel for the compositions of the great Duke Ellington. In-demand bassist Boots Maleson is a veteran of ensembles large and small, including the big bands of Harry James, Jimmy Dorsey, and Bob Alexander, the Vanguard Jazz Orchestra, and the Smithsonian Jazz Masterworks Orchestra. He has also accompanied Milt Jackson, Elvin Jones, Jaki Byard, Archie Shepp, Kenny Barron, Dexter Gordon, Stanley Cowell, Benny Carter, and Marlene Verplanck, and many others. Versatile guitarist James Chirillo has been heard with a spectrum of talent that spans Wynton Marsalis, Paquito D’Rivera, Wycliffe Gordon, Michael Feinstein, Tony Bennett, Joe Lovano, Marcus Roberts, Dick Hyman, Benny Goodman, Benny Carter, Eddie Durham, Eddie Barefield, Frank Wess, and Joe Wilder. The winner of a composition grant from the National Endowment for the Arts, James has also appeared on Broadway and movie soundtracks. With the Highlights In Jazz series nudging the half-century mark, Kleinsinger is justly proud of his ongoing legacy as a producer. Since the very first Highlights in Jazz event, “Every concert in the series has been integrated, has included a variety of younger artists and veterans, and has featured a renowned surprise guest. And every year we honor a living jazz great—let’s honor them while they can smell the roses,” he declares. This year’s honoree, Randy Brecker, will be feted at the May 16th concert. The HIJ series is a favorite destination for New York jazz fans and in-the-know out-of-towners. Besides the lineup of jazz icons onstage, there are often stars to be found in the audience as well—sports greats Venus Williams and Willie Randolph, actors Bette Midler and Alan Alda, and author Kurt Vonnegut, to name just a few. The secret to the longevity of the beloved Highlights In Jazz series? “We’re doing the concerts other producers don’t do,” Kleinsinger says, “and in the process we’ve outlasted everyone who’s ever done jazz concerts in the history of New York.” You won’t want to miss a single event in this new season of Highlights In Jazz!

Jack Kleinsinger’s HIGHLIGHTS IN JAZZ 2019 47th year Thursday, February 28, 2019 - 8 P.M.     •    Highlights In Jazz - 46th Anniversary Gala     •    Vocalist Daryl Sherman     •    Saxophonist Houston Person     •    Trumpeter Warren Vaché     •    Clarinetist/saxophonist Ken Peplowski     •    Pianist Norman Simmons     •    Bassist Boots Maleson     •    Guitarist James Chirillo Plus, surprise special guest!  Mark your calendar for other concerts scheduled for the 2019 Highlights In Jazz season: Thursday, March 28, 2019 - 8 P.M.     •    Satchmo & Sidney Revisited David Ostwald’s Louis Armstrong Eternity Band     •    Tubaist David Ostwald     •    Trumpeter Alphonso Horne     •    Saxophonist Adrian Cunningham     •    Trombonist Dion Tucker     •    Trombonist Dave Gibson Plus:     •    Bechet’s leading disciple Olivier Franc     •    Stride piano master Jean Baptiste Franc     •    Sidney Bechet’s son Daniel Bechet Produced in Association with the Sidney Bechet Society Along with surprise special guests! Thursday, May 16, 2019 – 8 P.M. Salute to Randy Brecker Jazz Millennials Saxophonists Peter & Will Anderson Singer Veronica Swift Plus: Jazz Masters Pianist George Cables Bassist Buster Williams Drummer Kenny Washington Guest of Honor: Trumpeter Randy Brecker and surprise special guest! Thursday, June 20, 2019 – 8 P.M. Remembering Erroll & Randy The Erroll Garner Project Pianist Christian Sands Drummer Ulysses Owens Bassist Luques Curtis A Randy Weston Tribute Saxophonist T.K. Blue and the Weston Alumni Band Bassist Alex Blake Percussionist Neil Clarke Special guest trombonist Steve Turre  and surprise special guest! All Shows At BMCC TRIBECA Performing Arts Center Borough of Manhattan Community College 199 Chambers Street, New York, NY 10007 http://tribecapac.org By car take FDR Drive south to end, through underpass onto West Street, north to Chambers. By Subway take 1, 2, 3, 9, A, C, E, J or M train to Chambers or N, R to City Hall stop. Walk west on Chambers. Box Office 212-220-1460 Ticket Prices $50.00 $45.00 (student rate with valid ID) or by mail order. $180.00 per subscription Tickets can be purchased in advance at the box office. You are now able to use your credit card at the Tribeca PAC Box Office located on 199 Chambers Street, or by calling (212) 220-1460 and now online at Tickets.Tribecapac.org Please send a check made payable to: Highlights In Jazz Please mail orders to: Highlights In Jazz 7 Peter Cooper Road, Apt. 11E, New York, NY 10010 (Please enclose a self-addressed, stamped envelope) http://www.highlightsinjazz.org , Highlights in Jazz Media Contact Jim Eigo Jazz Promo Services 272 State Route 94 South #1 Warwick, NY 10990-3363 Ph: 845-986-1677 / Fax: 845-986-1699 Cell / text: 917-755-8960 Skype: jazzpromo jim@jazzpromoservices.com www.jazzpromoservices.com

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