#apparently the things you learn at camp stick with you for life (ticks are very bad. take every precaution to not get one.

[genericminecraftpotato]

I love going to the bathroom in the middle of the night and there’s a deer tick in the sink. what are you doing there little buddy, you’re not supposed to be here

[13uswntimagines]

Chanukah party (USWNT x Baby!Reader)

This isn’t a request but @literaryhedgehog​ and I thought it would be fun. The basic premise is that reader is at camp during Chanukah, and the team feels bad (especially Lindsey) so they throw her a party. (thank you @notmia101​ for betaing this for us). 

You smiled at Alyssa as she described her winter plans after training camp. How she was going to visit her sister and her family for Christmas. How they were hoping for snow and how they were going to kill an innocent tree and desecrate its body with lights for their amusement. Her words, not yours. It was a game she and the other girls played every year, trying to make their Christmas plans sound as horror-movie-ish as possible. It was a way of trying to make fun of themselves so you could share the amusement and join in laughing at them. 

But despite their efforts, a little piece of you always felt left out because you couldn’t (wouldn’t?) participate. See, you were one of the few who didn’t celebrate Christmas. You were proud of your Jewish heritage, even if your family wasn’t the most ~religious~. But you were proud of the culture you had been raised in. You held its traditions very near to your heart and weren’t AT ALL bitter that the rest of the team had time designated to visit their family during their winter holidays while you still had training camp through the third week of December.  

You were kinda zoning out because you could only take so much of their cookie baking, their stalkerish man that watched kids while they slept, and their hiding of a stupid stuffed toy you were sure would give you nightmares (who the fuck thought having an ‘elf’ stalk your family all month was cute?!?!? Capitalism was a weird man). (Though you may or may not have paid attention to Lindsey’s plan to dress Ferguson like a little elf…) 

“What about you kid?” Tobin asked, nudging you out of your daydream. 

“What?” You shook your head, making everyone around you laugh. 

“Do you have plans for the holidays?” Lindsey repeated, her smile showing off her dimples. 

“Oh, um. Chanukah started a few days ago. It’s cool, they have an app with a menorah and everything. My family has been face timing me most days, but it will be over before training ends.” You shrugged, hoping they couldn’t see how much being away from your family during this time of year sucked (though you were glad to be included on the camp roster). 

Most of the veteran's jaws dropped, how had they not known that you were missing something so important to you? How had US Soccer overlooked a holiday (and inadvertently given you an ultimatum- celebrate or make the national team). 

“Then why did they schedule training camp this week?” Tobin mumbled. Again you shrugged. 

“There’s 23 of you and only one of me… it’s really not that big of a deal,” you smiled briefly and gave the same speech you had given since middle school, “It’s not like the ‘Jewish Christmas’ even though it happens around the same time some years, my family doesn’t even exchange presents, so I’m really just missing the party they’re throwing on the 18th.” 

“That still isn’t fair though. I mean, we get Christmas off automatically, even if we don’t celebrate it!” Christen huffed, throwing her hands up. 

“I mean, this isn’t like a new thing. We’re always at camp during this time. And next year the holiday starts in November, so it’s not something that can consistently be scheduled around. I guess it’s just a sacrifice I have to make to be the best right?” You said earnestly, shaking your head. You knew all of the arguments, you had heard them for all of your life. 

“But-“ Emily started to protest, but before she could get the words out you cut her off. “Don’t make a big deal guys, it’s fine. Really,” 

The team stared at you for a few seconds, several women opening and closing their mouths several times. You shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, breathing a sigh of relief when your phone rang, glad to have an excuse to get out of this situation. 

“Ok so we’re totally going to make a big deal out of this,” Lindsey said turning back around to face the team the second you were out the door. 

“I’m guessing you have a plan to woo your girl?” Emily smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not to. No. We are doing this as a team to be supportive of our teammate who is part of a traditionally marginalized culture that we need to be more supportive of,” Lindsey grumbled sternly, smiling when Christen nodded in return. “I’m googling “Chanukah for Dummies” right now. 

They were going to make this camp different from the others (and if she got to impress you that was just a bonus). 

…..

“Umm, why does it smell like something is burning?” Becky asked, walking through the hotel corridor towards the dining room. 

“Because Latkes are apparently more difficult to make than I expected,” Kelley said, tossing what looked like a stack of burned hockey pucks into the trash. “I didn’t realize the whole room was going to smell like fried food- do you think they’re going to fine me when we check out?”

“If they fine you, they better fine Em too. The stench from such a little jar is kind of amazing,” Lindsey huffed. 

“What did she do, get her sardines or something?” Becky asked, shaking her head, remembering the smell that she couldn’t quite place. 

“No. Something called ‘Gefilte fish’”. 

“But isn’t that usually for Passover?” Kelley asked, looking up from where she was trying to scrape burned potatoes off her pan.

“They said it was traditional, isn’t that what we’re going for?” Emily huffed, pouting. Lindsey rolled her eyes at her best friend. 

“I’ve got music!” Chrystal called, walking through the door in a star-patterned sweater. “It turns out there are not a whole lot of Chanukah songs. There’s a Spotify playlist that’s only 3 hours long, or so, so I supplemented it with a lot of Leonard Cohen and Paul Simon.”

“And I brought the sour cream and applesauce as requested!” Sam called, walking in after her, “also some apple juice and honey bourbon. I know apples and honey are a thing for Rosh Hashana, so I thought maybe we could make some cocktails?”

“I won’t tell coach if you don’t,” Kelley said taking the bottle and pouring herself a shot. “Someone else needs to take over the latke making. My attempts have all either looked like lefse, hashbrowns or just burned.”

“Lefse?”

“I had an ex-girlfriend from Minnesota. It was a potato tortilla thing her family sent her at thanksgiving. The point here is that someone else needs to cook or we are just going to be eating sour cream and applesauce on their own.”

“We could make french fries?” Rose suggested tentatively. 

“With bacon and cheese! Those are the best,” Emily exclaimed, only to have Lindsey (gently) slap the back of her head. 

“No, Sonnett. She can’t have bacon and I don’t think she’s allowed to have cheese and meat on the same plate…” 

“I think if we just batter potato pieces in egg and flour and fry them it would taste nice with the apple sauce and sour cream. And we’ve made french fries before so it won’t be so much of a… learning curve. Though you did a great try, Kelley!” Rose said, patting Kelley’s arm.

“You guys are useless. Did you even look at a recipe?” Megan shook her head. 

“If you think it’s so easy you try it.” Kelley scoffed. Megan raised her eyebrow at the woman, stealing the spatula from the defender's hand. 

“Tasty made here we come,” 

*****

“Happy Chanukah!” came from all around as you walked in. Lindsey was very proud. Not only had she gotten the team on track and ensured that they had all of the stuff google said would make the perfect Chanukah celebration; she had also kept you off their trail until this moment. The shock on your face made all the work on their day off entirely worth it. 

The room was decorated in tinsel with a shiny plastic menorah in the center of the table. Several people were wearing ugly sweaters with different “decorations” taped on. A sign on the back wall said “We survived, let’s eat!” Lindsey had decided against hanging up the posters Rose and Mal made saying “Stick it to the (ro)Man!” and “MaccaBEe mine.” The first one because she wasn’t sure it was appropriate, the second one because she knew it wasn’t.

“Ooo who brought the hotdog of the sea?” You asked, biting your lip to suppress a giggle as you walked over to the table to see the food on display. 

“What?” Lindsey’s eyes tried to follow yours, utterly confused. They didn’t get hotdogs. They most certainly weren’t on the list that Chanukah for dummies had given her. 

You smiled softly and shook your head, pointing to the tan balls that Emily had provided. 

“That’s what my siblings and I call it during Passover. Gefilte fish is kinda a love it or hate it thing…” you trailed off, scrunching your nose just slightly. 

“And you’re not a fan?” Lindsey smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“Umm, I plead the fifth,” You mumbled, shaking your head slightly. It wasn’t your favorite item in the world. 

“That was all Emily,” Kelley snorted, clapping you on the back, and you grinned devilishly back at her. 

“Well, it was very nice of her to be so thoughtful. She can try a piece with me,” 

Emily cringed at the idea, but nodded nonetheless. It was your party and if eating the smelly thing out of a jar made you happy, then that’s exactly what she would do. (She also stealthily shot Lindsey the middle finger while you were surveying the rest of the items on the tables). 

“Honestly the sufganiyot is my favorite,” you said, taking a step towards the platter, your lips ticking up at Lindsey’s adorable confused face. “sorry, the donuts,” you clarified, picking up one of the many powdered sugar-covered donuts in the stack, inspecting it to see what kind it was. The Jelly ones were particularly important for the celebration. 

Lindsey blushed a little. “We didn’t know if you wanted jelly or custard,” She said hesitantly, watching as your eyes got impossibly brighter. 

“Both are amazing, thank you,” You smiled softly at the midfielder, brushing a stay bit of powdered sugar off her pink cheeks. You held her gaze for a moment before seeming realizing you had an audience, and turning towards the rest of the team. “thank all of you,” 

It wasn’t the traditional Chanukah you usually shared with your family, but the friends who had become your family made it special nonetheless.

[aspiring-ginger]

Of All the Stars in the Sky (Jaskier x Reader)

Request:  Yay! So happy your requests are open! I love your wriring. Can you please do something with Jaskier? Maybe reader has been trained with a sword most their life and travels with Geralt and Jaskier. He could write a song about the reader (very original haha) or reader gets hurt and Jaskier worries for them. I don’t know, thank you ♡

Summary: Geralt & the gang are on their way to Vizima when some trouble brews outside of the city gates. Suspicions rise when the reader doesn’t show up to the New Narakort Inn as planned.

Warnings: Strong language, violence. Nothing unusual for the Witcher.

Word count: 5,808

Pairing(s): Jaskier x reader

A/N: Here ya go, anon! I got carried away and couldn’t choose one of the two options, so I just did both. Almost 6k haha. Reader’s gender wasn’t mentioned so I did my best to keep it gender neutral. I took some inspiration from The Witcher 1, as well as the Carnal Sins questline from The Witcher 3. Also thanks to my best friend for helping me write this (she doesn’t have a tumblr or I’d tag), thanks bb!! Some of you wanted to be added to my taglist so I’m going to do it by fandom, character, and series. Please specify which you want to be tagged in or else you’re getting everything lol. So anyone who commented on Forget-Me-Not chap 1 is going to be just for that series, unless you said otherwise. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy this one! As always requests, comments, and feedback is always appreciated. Happy Valentine’s Day!!

Taglist: @dandelionwitcher​ @thunderdog8​

Masterlist

There was a simple comfort found on the open road. Surrounded by nature untainted by man, nothing but earth and sky around you. Everything raw and untamed just as nature intended.

It was here out in the open where you found yourself currently, head resting on your bunched up cloak propped up on a log, angled up at the sky. Geralt and Jaskier were around somewhere, each tending to his own business. Geralt had been holed up in his tent, most likely replenishing his stock of potions and elixirs after your last hunt.

Geralt had learned quickly that any and all alchemy was to be done privately in his room or tent, away from Jaskier’s prying eyes. You had only been travelling with the odd pair for a few weeks at that point, still unsure of the limits and boundaries you had with the two. You had been sitting with them close to the small campfire Geralt had set up. It was a warm night, the boys both shedding their outer layers and rolling their sleeves to get as much air as possible. You were intrigued by the witcher’s alchemy as you had never seen anything quite like it before. Sure, you’d seen your share of healers’ work but this was something else entirely. Apparently neither had Jaskier, as he was avidly asking questions and inching closer by the minute. It wasn’t long before Jaskier’s relentless inquiries turned to bickering, and whatever unfinished concoction Geralt had been making was spilled. The ground sizzled when splashed, as did the boys’ exposed skin. While you pitied them both for the chemical burns, the rest of the week had been pretty entertaining. Stock full of pouting and theatrics.

You snickered at the memory as you stared up at the night sky. Jaskier’s childish actions that week had really brought the three of you together, and solidified your part in the rag-tag team. You had come to the rescue when ambushed by bandits later in the week. Geralt was unable to defend both himself and the bard given his current injuries, and you had swooped in at the last second deflecting a blade aimed at Jaskier’s throat. After that moment you had decided to stick with the boys for good.

“What are you laughing at? Something funny in the sky?” Jaskier teased, propping himself up against the log next to you.

You hadn’t heard him approach, jumping slightly at his words. He had been washing up at the nearby creek and you weren’t expecting him to be back so soon. The fresh smell of his soap- a mixture of sandalwood, sage, and a sweet fruit, cherry maybe?, hit your nose as he nudged your shoulder with his and laughed.

“No, just remembering something funny,” You smiled.

“Oh? Would you care to share? Geralt’s ‘locked’ himself in his tent so I could use a bit of a pick me up.” He teased, stretching his arms behind his head to mimic your position.

You jokingly hummed in thought, “Remember that time with Geralt’s potions and you managed to burn right through your shirt? What, a year ago now? You demanded extra special care for your 'terrible wounds’ that whole week! I swear I thought Geralt was going to tear your head off.”

“In my defense, that had been one of my favorite shirts from home, which was absolutely flattering by the way, and they really were terrible wounds! I seem to recall you coming to my rescue- my knight in shining armor with her noble steed,” He giggled and dramatically draped a hand over his forehead.

“I’m sure Blueberry just loved carrying your spoiled arse around,” You snorted.

Jaskier scoffed, “Blueberry and I have become great friends since then. She adores me!”

You heard your mare snort as if in response, and the two of you dissolved into a fit of giggles and laughter. You wiped a stray tear from your eye and sighed. You turned your head to look at the bard

“We’re finally headed back to Vizima tomorrow. Are you excited for a real bath and a soft bed?”

“How could I not? One can only travel on the road for so long before needing a well earned refresher. Even the witcher has his limits,” You hummed in agreement. “Besides! I’ll be debuting my newest song. This one will be a hit, I’m sure of it! Even better than the last!”

“Really? Even better than Toss a Coin?” You raised a brow in mock surprise.

“Let’s just say that I have a better inspiration this time around,” He turned to face you as well, throwing a wink in your direction.

You let out a nervous laugh and prayed to Melitele that the darkness around you hid the blush that dusted your cheeks. You cleared your throat and pointed up at the sky, hoping to change the topic.

“Do you ever get lost in the beauty of the stars? We see them every night, yet each time I look up they almost take my breath away. I get dizzy just looking at them all.”

Jaskier let out a low chuckle, “Wonderfully spoken, (y/n). Mind if I use that in a song?”

You rolled your eyes “I’m being serious! I just don’t understand how something so beautiful just goes unnoticed by so many.”

You heard Jaskier hum next to you and you glanced over to see his reaction. His face and body was turned to face you, a small smile gracing his cheeks. Firelight flickered in his bright blue eyes and you were overwhelmed with the scent of him again. Seconds ticked by as you were pulled in by his gaze. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes dart down to your lips. His face was so close to yours, you just wanted to reach out and brush his still damp hair out of his eyes, pulling his face close so you could-

You awkwardly cleared your throat, sliding yourself away from him before you could do anything foolish you would regret.

“I um, I-I’ll see you in the morning, Jaskier. Goodnight.” You scooped up your cloak and scurried over to your bedroll. Seeing as how you only had two tents between the three of you and you quite enjoyed the weather this time of year, you offered Geralt and Jaskier a tent each. You cursed yourself and you turned away in your blankets, trying to ignore the bard across the camp.

Jaskier sighed and called his goodnights out to you and Geralt as well. He glanced up at the stars with a wistful smile. It would only be one more day, maybe two, before he could finally follow through with his plan. He had connections with the New Narakort Inn where he arranged your group’s stay in the city. Hopefully by then he would have the lyrics finished and ready to perform. His previous attempts at flirting had failed to get your attention, so as a final resort he devised his whole plan to perform his new song to you, as a confession. 

He climbed into his tent, pulling out his notebook and scratching out a few words with a sigh. He made a note to mention your love for the stars, and you technically didn’t say no to his request to quote you earlier. He pulled out his lute and rehearsed the melody of the song, mumbling possible lyrics under his breath. You smiled as you rolled over, Jaskier’s calming chords lulling you to sleep.

You woke as the first rays of sunlight began to peek through the trees above. A light fog had settled in around you, refracting the light around you. It was quite pretty, actually. You sat up and stretched your arms out, then ran a hand down your face when you faltered. Looking down in confusion, you saw an extra blanket pooled in your lap. One sniff and you identified it as Jaskier’s. Since when did he wake up early? You supposed it had gotten a little chilly during the night, but it was spring after all. You wanted to enjoy your time outdoors before the heat would put you in a sour mood.

You sent a nervous glance at the two tents opposite you, pausing to listen if the occupants had woken up yet. Satisfied when you heard silence you pulled Jaskier’s blanket up to your chest and took a deep breath. You couldn’t hide your smile at his sweet gesture and a quiet giggle escaped your lips. You laid back down all giddy, burying your face into his blanket. It wasn’t long before you drifted back to sleep.

Jaskier emerged from his tent later that morning. Geralt had already started packing his things away, giving him a nod in acknowledgement. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out an apple and tossed it at the bard. Jaskier caught it, buffing it against his shirt before taking a bite. He wiped juice off his chin as he walked up to the witcher. Geralt raised an eyebrow at him with an amused smirk. 

“What, is there something on my face? Bad bedhead or something?” Jaskier tutted, placing one hand on his hip.

“Really, Jaskier?” Geralt responded not bothering to elaborate, but inclined his head in your direction.

“Wha-?” He faltered, “What are you talking about, Geralt? It’s too early to decipher your broody minimalism,” He swallowed thickly, fidgeting the apple in his hands.

“Thought your spoiled arse would be cold sleeping without a blanket.” Geralt shrugged, hiding a smirk. He left the bard sputtering to come up with an excuse.

Taking Geralt’s cue that he was done with the conversation for now Jaskier took another bite and sighed. He forgot about the witcher’s heightened senses and would have to be subtler in the future. He was pretty sure Geralt already took him for a fool, but he’d prefer not to fan the flames any more. His head shot up realizing that you could’ve heard their conversation, wincing at his carelessness. His shoulders slumped back down when he saw your still sleeping form. Seems like Geralt didn’t wake you on purpose. Ha ha, very funny.

He quietly padded up to you, careful not to make any sudden movements. You had his blanket snuggled right up against your face, a small smile gracing your features. Jaskier couldn’t help but grin as he felt his heart squeeze at the sight. He gently shook your shoulder and called out your name.

“Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty! We’ve got quite a day ahead of us. Up and at 'em!” You squinted your eyes at Jaskier for disturbing your sleep. He laughed at your pouting and strolled away to pack his things.

You stared forward for a few moments waiting for your brain to fully wake up. Your eyes shot open wide- you still had that damn blanket pulled right up to you- and you quickly shoved it off. You winced and hoped you didn’t look too silly in your sleep. You packed your belongings as well. You certainly didn’t feel like a sleeping beauty as you smoothed your rumpled hair back down.

When you had everything stuffed back into your saddlebags and pack, you went to greet Blueberry with her morning pets. It seemed Jaskier already beat you to it- he was feeding her the remnants of his apple and running his hand through her mane. He muttered praise under his breath as he untangled knots with his fingers. You swallowed and paused to gather your thoughts before coming any closer. If he kept this up any longer you just knew you wouldn’t be able to concentrate with his hands around your waist for gods know how many hours until you arrived in Vizima. 

You slung the bags around Blueberry’s back and gave her a gentle pat, giving Jaskier a curt smile. 

“I don’t feel all that great, so you can go ahead and take the reins today,” At least that way you would be able to hide your face if you were embarrassed. “And that way I’ll have better access to my sword. You know, in case monsters or bandits or something,” You justified. You didn’t know who you were trying to convince more- you or him.

You turned on your heels and briskly walked back to your spot. You felt ashamed that you let yourself get carried away with your thoughts. Stupid girlish thoughts. You sighed as you strapped on your light armor. You were a fool to hope Jaskier was anything more than a friend. You double checked your sword- inspecting the blade before sheathing it at your hip. You restrung your shortbow and slung it over your shoulder, and secured your small quiver at your hip. Bandits often patrolled the roads close to the city. Geralt would hear anyone coming way before you, but you wanted to be prepared.

The ride in was mostly uneventful, you spent most of your time dodging Jaskier’s lute case every time he whipped his head back to say something to you. You hadn’t been fast enough the first time, and he and Geralt would not let it go, relentlessly teasing you for being bested by a damn lute. At first it was funny and you laughed along with them, but after the 8th or so close call it got old fast.

You parted ways with Geralt and Jaskier at the city gates, following your usual routine. You would check the outskirts for work for either Geralt or yourself. You often took on hunting jobs or other contracts that didn’t directly involve monsters, since that was obviously Geralt’s area of expertise. Geralt would check notice boards within the city while Jaskier would secure room and board at the best inn he could find that would let him perform. He would take care of Roach and Blueberry and by the time he was done, you and Geralt would return and discuss your findings. Dividing and conquering was your best strategy to ensure you made the most coin you possibly could. 

As you slid off of Blueberry’s back, Jaskier informed you to meet at the New Narakort Inn. It was unusual for him to be so prepared, but you shrugged it off as perks of being a bard/entertainer. It didn’t take long to find a notice board in the outskirts. Most of the papers posted were generic notices to the public- “be wary of the merchant with the red hair, don’t give yer money to a witch!” Or complaints of missing livestock- completely useless. There were two promising notes, however. One claiming that Old Farmer Ned’s goats were being slaughtered by terrible beasts. You pocketed that one for Geralt. The other asked for a good amount of venison for some nearby butcher. You tore that one off for yourself.

As you perused the board in front of you, you paid no mind to the villagers milling about. You did begin to take notice as a commotion started to your left. 3 burly men dressed in matching rags and similar tattoos surrounded a young elven girl with their weapons drawn. She clutched a covered basket close to her chest and sobbed. One man held up his blade while the other gestured for the woman to hand the goods over. You couldn’t exactly make out what they were saying, but you guessed the elven woman was begging to let her go. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach as you glanced around to see if anyone else around noticed what was happening. You frowned in disappointment. Men and women rushed past with heads down ignoring the scene, some even cheering on the men and calling out racial slurs. The first man had stepped even closer to the poor girl, his sword held against her neck as the other men jeered. You sighed and rolled your shoulders back. There was no way you could let this happen, not when you could do something about it.

In the blink of an eye your sword collided with the first man’s, pushing it away from the woman. You held an arm out to her and gestured for her to get behind you.

“You know, you shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you. Apologize to the woman and walk away,” You threatened with a snarl. The girl ran behind you and clutched your sleeve in fear.

The other two men laughed and pointed their swords at you, the first one just rolled his eyes, “And what are you going to do about it, elf lover? You gonna stand up for this nonhuman filth? We deserve that basket. It should be ours. And once we take it, we’ll get to have our way with her. You want that too, you little shit?” He sneered.

You spat at their feet and swung your sword to disarm the man, kicking him in the groin. He crumpled to the ground as the other two stepped forward, swords swinging. You dodged one and parried the other. They circled around you into a flank position. The second man lunged at you. You stepped back and grabbed him, using his momentum to send him crashing into his buddy. The first man stood up and began to reach for his sword. You turned, smacking the butt of your hilt against the back of his head as he bent over. He collapsed back to the ground with a thud. 

The third goon shoved the second off with a grunt and came charging at you, empty handed. His fist smacked right into your chest knocking the air out of your lungs. You hunched over and gasped. The goon saw this as an opening and raised his leg to kick your face in. Your eyes trained on the ground saw his leg lift up, and you took this opportunity to sweep his legs out from under him. He fell to the ground and clawed at your leg. The other man came at you with his sword. Your blades clashed as you shook your leg in an attempt to get rid of the fool at your feet. With a strong kick of your leg, you forced your foot into the man’s face. You heard a sickening crunch and he screamed in pain. With your foot now free, you turned your attention back to the last man standing. You parried blow after blow, the man relentlessly swinging at you. He was quite sloppy, and you quickly found an opening to disarm him as well. You held your blade against his neck, drawing a bit of blood. The man trembled and raised his hands in the air in defeat. 

You spat in his face and shoved him to the ground, “You and your friends can go and fuck right off. Next time you think twice about who you’re robbing.” You drove one more kick into his stomach for good measure. 

The man scrambled to gather the other two thugs and their weapons before scampering off. They called out slurs and insults as they left but you paid them no mind. You bent over to pick up a jar that had fallen out of the woman’s basket. She had just been carrying groceries home. 

You turned around and offered the jar to her with a smile. She stared at you with wide eyes before thanking you profusely. She pulled you into a hug with a sob, choking something out about the kindness of some humans. You awkwardly patted her on the back and placed the jar back into her basket. She started to take out her coin purse insisting on payment but you just held up your hand and shook your head. There was no possible way you could ever take her coin. All you had done was step in to help a woman in need. Just doing what was right. You told the woman this and she responded with another sob. She shook your hand and hurried away with a wave.

You sheathed your sword with a sigh. The villagers avoided your gaze and went out of their way to give you a wide berth. At this point you just desperately wanted a bath, good food and drink, and some quality time spent with your friends. You went and picked up the notice you dropped by the board before you stepped in to help. All you had to do was speak to the butcher to negotiate pay and the amount of meat needed. Then you could finally head into town.

The sun was setting by the time that you made your way past the city gates into the Temple Quarter. It had taken much more time to track down and speak with the butcher, and you hoped that you had enough time for a quick soak before Jaskier’s performance. Even though you’ve heard him play countless times before, you couldn’t miss even a single performance. Seeing him lute in hand playing for so many people was simply put, a breathtaking experience. He was in his element, oozing confidence and charm as he circled the room singing his heart out. Faces in the crowd smiled and cheered along with his songs, clapping and raising their mugs in approval. Every time he would glance back at whatever table you and Geralt had chosen, your heart felt as if it was about to burst. He always looked you in the eye and winked before turning back to the crowd and each time the butterflies in your stomach went crazy. He was so happy and pure and every time without fail, he took that moment to acknowledge you. 

Even just thinking about him made your cheeks flush as you walked through the slums of the city. It was only a few more blocks until the Trade Quarter, where the New Narakort was located. You smiled as you saw the torches of guards posted at the gate over the top of the hill. You were so lost in your thoughts as you approached, that you failed to notice the shadow lurking in an alleyway nearby. It darted out as you walked by and grabbed you. A hand was clamped over your mouth before you could cry out and you were dragged back into the alley. The hand released you and you whipped your head around to identify your attacker. A strong blow to your face left you spitting up blood with a groan.

“Serves you right for helping out that disgusting nonhuman, you piece of filth!” You recognized the voice as one of the thugs from earlier.

You opened your mouth to respond, but instead a strong kick to your core knocked the words right out of you. You took blow after blow, spitting up blood when you got the chance. There were at least the same 3 men from before, but you were so disoriented you couldn’t even tell. They paused every so often to let you catch your breath and try to fight back before kicking you down to the ground again. Kick after kick after kick you struggled on the ground. There was a sharp pain in your right thigh as, what you guessed could only be, a dagger drove straight into your poor leg. You screamed out in agony and suffered another blow to the head. Each attack seemed to be growing in power as you clawed at the ground to try and escape. A sob escaped your lips as you felt the slash of another blade across your back. The men around you cheered and laughed, all taking part of the fun.

“You don’t mess with us, you elf loving whore!” The main attacker cried. With a laugh his final blow to your head had you seeing stars, and the world faded to black.

When you came to, you were alone. the moon was already high in the sky, and you couldn’t make anything out in the alley around you. You groaned in pain as you tried to sit up to assess your wounds. The dagger that was plunged deep into your thigh was still there, stopping most of the bleeding. That was good, but every time you even shifted, you cried out in pain. You had to take it out but you didn’t have any of your supplies on you, you left it all packed on Blueberry. The cut on your back scabbed up, but you probably opened it back up by moving around. Your whole face felt swollen, and you tasted blood. You were sure you looked like absolute shit.

You struggled to stand. Leaning heavily against the wall, you spat out more blood. You shuffled against the brick wall, hands clawing any groove you could grab just to pull yourself forward. You manage a couple of steps before you collapse down the ground. Fuck. You didn’t know how far you could go in the state. You let out a frustrated sob. Would Geralt and Jaskier be able to find you in time? Did they even notice you were gone? Your thoughts were racing as you heaved yourself up once more. You banged your leg against the wall and yelped- your vision going fuzzy for a moment. If you could at least drag yourself out of the alley, maybe there was a chance a guard would find you?

You heard footsteps approach and winced- were those thugs coming back for more? You looked up and saw a silhouette of a man.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.” You heard a soothing voice call out. You groaned and shifted against the bricks. “I saw what you did earlier, outside of town. You helped one of my kind. I wish to repay this kindness.” He stepped closer and slipped an arm around you, holding you up so your weight wasn’t on your injured leg. 

“Please, save your energy and don’t speak. My name is Palmar, I’m a trained healer. I’ll take you back to my house to patch you up. Do you live here?” You shook your head, “Are you here alone?” You shook your head, “We can send word to your companions once we get you safe. Is that alright?” You nodded. You then lurched forward, Palmar holding you up.

The journey to Palmar’s small house went by in a blur, the pain in your leg too strong to focus on anything else. When you arrived, he laid you down on a cot in the main room. It was small with only a fireplace, a table, your cot, and a hallway visible. Once you were propped up with pillows, Palmar lit the fireplace and several candles throughout the room to provide light. You finally got a good look at your savior. He was tall and scrawny, dressed in a simple shirt and pants. He looked young, maybe 30 years you guessed. The top of his auburn hair was pulled into a bun while the rest hung down to his shoulder. He caught your gaze and smiled, warm brown eyes filled with warmth.

“I assure you, I have treated many wounds like this. You are in good hands. I told you my name, but I’m afraid I didn’t catch yours,” He strode around the room, gathering various vials and bandages.

“(Y/n). I travelled here with a witcher and a bard- Geralt of Rivia and Jaskier. I was supposed to meet them at the New Narakort.” Your voice was raspy and strained.

“The New Narakort? A fine establishment. I’ve heard their stew is to die for,” He smiled again, undoing the straps of your armor and weapons. “I’m afraid this is going to hurt. Like a bitch,” He chuckled “I’m going to pull the knife out on the count of three, alright? Ready? One, two-” you braced yourself for the pain, crying out as he yanked the dagger out early. Palmar quickly cleaned out the wound. With the knife gone, he helped you strip down to your smalls. He cleaned and dressed the rest of your wounds, muttering words of encouragement as he went. As the pain finally began to lessen, you felt your eyelids droop with exhaustion. Palmar let out a small chuckle.

“It’s alright, my friend. You can rest. I will go fetch your friends while you sleep.” You furrowed your brow at him, not understanding why he was being so kind.

“I don’t understand, why are you helping me?” You forced your eyes open. You didn’t want to fall asleep without knowing the answer. Palmar helped you back into your shirt and lay comfortably on the cot.

“As I said before, I saw what you did for that poor woman outside of town. You stood up to those humans. No other human would’ve stepped in like you did. I am grateful. I was walking home when I saw those awful humans leave the alley and my gut told me to check it before I continued home- and I found you.” You sighed, happy with his answer for now. You couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer so you snuggled closer to the blankets. As Palmar stood to leave he whispered, “My daughter was killed by that very same gang. The one you stood up against. This was the very least I could do to help.” You slipped into a dreamless sleep.

You felt a clammy hand grab yours, and another shake you awake. You opened your eyes to a bright blue pair looking down at you in worry. Jaskier. 

“Oh, thank the gods. Geralt, they’re awake! Oh (y/n), you have no idea how worried I was for you! We waited at the inn and when it got dark and you still hadn’t shown, well Geralt said not to worry, but I just knew something wasn’t right! You’ve never missed any of my performances. I couldn’t let you break your streak, so I waited for you. And waited, and waited. Then this lovely man showed up and- gods! I’m just glad you’re alright,” Jaskier rambled, squeezing your hand tighter and tighter with each word.

“Jaskier, I’m okay.” You squeezed his hand back with a smile. 

“Blueberry is waiting outside. We’ll take you back to the inn.” Geralt said as he gathered your things and carried them outside.

Jaskier said something to Palmar in Elder as he helped you out of bed, which he responded in kind. You made a mental note to ask Jaskier about it later. They exchanged a few more words, and soon they had you out of the door and on Blueberry’s back. Palmar shook your hand one last smile and thanks before you were on your way. Geralt lead Blueberry by the reins while Jaskier walked beside you, his hand coming up to nervously rub you calf. On your uninjured side, of course. 

Your friends slowly lead you through the streets of Vizima, right to the New Narakort. Jaskier helped you inside and to your room while Geralt took care of Blueberry. Jaskier fussed over you, helping you wash your hair and settling you into bed, fluffing every pillow in the process. He bid you goodnight with a squeeze of your hand and blew out the candles, but he hesitated at the door. 

“Jaskier? What’s wrong?” You asked, voice laced with worry.

“You could’ve died. They left you in that alley to die and I could have lost you,” Jaskier choked out.

“Julian. It’s alright. I’m alright. I’m safe now. Don’t worry.” He snapped his head up when you called out his real name.

“(Y/n), I always worry. Every time you go out with Geralt on a hunt, or when you pick up odd jobs around towns. I worry. I’m always going to worry about you, because you’re my friend. Actually- hang on a minute. I’ll be just a moment!” He rushed out the room in a flash. Your heart ached at his words. You’re my friend. Just a friend. A bittersweet smile escaped your lips. It was obvious just how much the bard cared for you, but it still wasn’t enough. You sighed, swallowing back tears and waited for him to come back.

Jaskier was true to his word- he was only gone for two minutes at most. He burst back into the room, out of breath with his lute in hand.

“(Y/n), the reason I couldn’t have you miss my performance is because of my new song. Remember? I’ve finally finished it, and I couldn’t have you miss it, because…” he faltered, hands wringing nervously, “I wrote it for you.” You looked at him in surprise as he held the lute up and began to play. The melody was beautiful. It was somewhat familiar as you had tried to eavesdrop whenever you could in camp, but you had never heard the words before. He sang about a fierce warrior with (h/c) hair shining in the sun as they defeated their foes, their bravery and kindness unmatched. The beauty of their laugh and smile was enough to turn the heads of everyone as they walked into the room. Their love of the stars in the night sky, 'each time I look at them, they take my breath away’. He was quoting you, in a song he wrote for you. No, wrote about you. He wrote this song about you. Tears sprang up in your eyes as you came to this realization. Jaskier’s fingers slipped as he saw your reaction.

“I-it’s horrible isn’t it. I figured. I should’ve waited a bit longer- practiced it more.” He groaned, running his hand down his face. “(Y/n), I’m sorry. Obviously I need to work on this one a bit more but.. you have to understand that you almost died. I wrote this song and you almost died. I had to play it for you before I would lose the chance because… because (y/n). I love you.” His piercing blue eyes were filled with hope as he looked into yours.

“Julian- I love it. It’s beautiful and I love the song and I love you too,” your words were all rushed together- you couldn’t get them out fast enough.

Jaskier launched himself at you, careful of your wounds, and embraced you tight. You breathed in his familiar scent. 

“So since you love me back, does that mean I get to kiss you?” He asked with a smirk, legs straddling your own.

“Oh come here, you,” you laughed. Your hands grasped the sides of his face and pulled him close. You could feel his hot breath against your lips as he hesitated, before he pressed his lips against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut in content. If this is what it took to finally be with your favorite bard, you’d do it a hundred times over. Now you could finally call Jaskier your own.

[scenecipriano]

Such Horrible Things(6)

Chapter Six: When They Were Fourteen…

Summary: Roman and Remus Hartfield are identical twins, with Roman being only two minutes and fifty-two seconds older than Remus. The two are polar opposites, Roman the loud and boisterous twin who loved Disney and various musicals, and Remus the twin who preferred to keep to himself until he grew close to you and showed his true chaotic nature. But is Remus really the chaotic one? Or is it the brother that people least expect…

Warnings: Unsympathetic Roman, Blood, Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Mildly Unsympathetic Logan and Patton, Implied/Reference to Character Death (In later chapters)

TW For this chapter: Animal cruelty, death mention

AU Type: Human

Ships: Logicality, (Toxic) Roceit (In later chapters), and Dukexiety (In later chapters)

——————–

Roman was bored, hopelessly uttering bored. Most summers for him weren't bored considering he had Remus to torment, but no this summer his twin decided to go to art camp. Their papa tried to convince him to go as well, but Roman wasn't about to go to some stupid camp and get eat up with multiple mosquitos while being surrounded by annoying kids. Roman sighs as he stabs the pointed stick he had through the abdomen of the frog he had pinned down, its guts and blood splattering against the warm rock it was pinned to. If Remus were here, his arm would be in the frog's place. The fourteen-year-old couldn't help but snort in amusement at the thought.

   "Can hear him now, 'Please, Ro let me go! I'll tell!' he's always been such a bitch." Roman mutters as he stabs the frog over and over again, causing more of its blood to paint the rock a dark red.

    This would be something that would chill his papa to the bone, honestly, he didn't understand how a grown man could be so childish. 'I bet he screams like a girl, he does whenever he and dad decide to get freaky.'  Roman chuckles to himself as he drags the stick down, cutting the frog's stomach completely open, watching as its guts spill completely out.

    "Roman! Dinner time kiddo!" His papa calls.

     The teen stares down at the frog's mutilated corpse for a moment, the time ticking away. A smirk forms on Roman's face as he scoops the frog up, ignoring the bloody mess that was becoming of his hands.

     "Coming, papa!"

     Roman stuffs the dead frog into his pocket, he wipes his hands clean on the grass as to not distress his papa about the alarming amount of blood that was gathered on them. He pushes himself up from the ground and runs towards his house, a giddy feeling seeping into his chest, 'This is going to be fun...'

    As Roman stood at the sink, preparing to wash his hands, he took the opportunity to slip the dead frog into the silverware drawer, knowing that his papa was always forgetful when it came to setting the utensils out. Roman chuckles as he quickly closes the drawer back, washing his hands good to get rid of the dirt and leftover blood. Once his hands were cleaned and dried, Roman took his seat at the table where his parents were waiting.

   "So, how was your day today, Roman?" His dad asks.

    "It was okay, little boring without Rem here..."

    "Kiddo, you sure you don't want to join him at camp? I think you would have a lot of fun!" His papa chimes in.

     Roman sneers his nose up, 'What are they trying to do? Get rid of me?'

     "Patton, sweetheart you forgot the silverware again."

     "Shoot! You're right, I'll be right back!"

     A grin forms on Roman's face, he sits up straighter in his chair. Softly he begins to count down, he covers his mouth to muffle his laugh when a high pitched scream comes from the kitchen. He watched as his dad moved away from the table to check on his papa, a sound of disgust tells him that his dad has seen the heavily mutilated frog. Roman couldn't help the small giggle that left his mouth.

    "Roman Winston Hartfield! Did you put this frog in the drawer?"

    "I thought it was something cool, papa! Don't you like it? ...I did it myself."

    The way Roman spoke sent a chill up Patton's spine, he glances over to Logan who looked as equally spooked by their fourteen-year-old. Logan takes a deep breath and steps back into the dining room, he narrows his eyes at Roman.

    "Well, what you did wasn't nice, Roman. You're grounded, now go get that frog out of here and be sure to wash your hands again when you're done."

    Roman's jaw went slack as he stares at his father, 'He can't be serious?'

    "You're grounding me, over a harmless, prank? That's not fair!!"

    "Life isn't fair, Roman, now do as you're told or your grounding will last longer than a week," Logan scolds.

     Roman softly growls under his breath as he stands from the dining room table, he pushes past his father making sure to shove the older man a bit as he does. He grabs the frog, making sure to squeeze a bit more blood out of it, staining the silverware as he does. Roman stomps outside and hurls the dead frog across the backyard.

    "You want to ground me for something stupid? Fine, but I'm going to give you a reason to ground me you ass."

    Roman learned the hard way that cutting something's head off wasn't as easy as television made it out to be. That and all he had was a kitchen knife, but he was able to saw through the rabbit's neck. That morning when he heard his parents mixed screams, Roman smiled and for once it reached his eyes.

   "I don't want to go!!" Roman screams as he tries to pull away from his papa. When Patton tightens his grip, that led to his son screaming even louder. After the bunny incident and various other incidents that Patton really didn't want to talk about right now, he and Logan thought it was best that Roman see a psychiatrist.

  "You don't get a choice, Roman! Now stop fighting!"

   With one final tug, Patton was able to pull Roman into the psychiatrist's office, it was the same doctor that they had Remus seeing. Dr. Emile Picani stares at them with shocked brown eyes. Patton offers him an apologetic smile as he forces Roman to sit in one of the brown leather chairs in front of Emile's oak desk.

  "I'm going to assume this is, Roman?" Emile asks.

  "Yes, sorry he's... He's having a difficult time right now."

  Roman barks out a humorless laugh, catching both adult's attention as he does.

  "More like you and dad are having a difficult time, I told you that I didn't want to fucking be here."

  Patton softly scolds Roman for his language, which only led to the teen rolling his eyes at his papa's weak discipline actions. Emile clears his throat, capturing both of Roman and Patton's attention. He offers Roman a polite smile as he pushes his pink glasses up the bridge of his nose.

 "Well, Roman, it's nice to make your acquaintance. Patton, you can step out now I'd like to have a chat with Roman."

 Patton takes a shaky breath and nods, closing the door behind him as he leaves. Roman huffs and folds his arms over his chest, sliding down into his chair as he glares at the smiling doctors face.

 "So, why don't you tell me a little about yourself Roman?"

  Psychopathic tendencies are what Emile had called it. Roman had been seeing for a good two weeks now, and that was what the good doctor came up with was psychopathic tendencies. Sure, Roman lacked empathy, or a real conscience apparently not having a little voice in your head telling you right from wrong wasn't normal. Roman remembers his papa breaking down into tears, he remembers rolling his eyes at the man's theatrics, he cried as if Roman were dying.

 "Is there any way we can treat it, Dr. Picani? Medicine? Therapy?" His dad asked.

 "There are no known medicine for this no... but group therapy may help. This would give Roman a chance to interact with other people like him, maybe even help him cope with his issue."

  Roman remembered frowning at the idea, hating at having to be around annoying people for two hours, he remembers wanting to throw a fit, yelling at the adults that he didn't need therapy, but he's glad he didn't do that.

 Roman smirks and saunters up to his latest prey, making sure to replace the devious smirk with a soft smile that was similar to his papa's.

 "Hi, I'm Roman Hartfield it's nice to meet you!"

 The boy with a yellow beanie with matching gloves looks at him, his blue and amber eyes look directly into his green ones. The burn mark on the boy's face stood out like a sore thumb, but it didn't ruin his looks in Roman's opinion. The boy smiles back and offers a gloved hand to Roman.

 "I'm Eden Summers! It's nice to meet too, Roman!"

 Roman notices the scars that littered Eden's arms as he shook the boy's hand, he allows his smirk to return.

 'Things just got interesting~.'

--------------

~TAGLIST~: @sparrow-flightninggale @perhaps-im-dave-rolland

A/N: WELL WELL WELL LOOK WHO GOT CAUGHT-  And was led straight to a new victim

Also note! I’m not saying that all diagnosed psychopaths are evil! Roman just turns out to be very violent- 

[rwbyconversations]

RWBY LVL Up 2019 Expo Panel Summaries

So, first one of these for the 6-7 hiatus. This took place on the weekend of April 27th-28th, and saw two panels with the four RWBY girls. Most notably, the panel actually fielded questions from the r/RWBY subreddit prior to the Q&A. 

Saturday

Twitch VOD here. Keep in mind Twitch auto-deletes VODs so this link may be dead if you’re coming back to this in a few weeks The Twitch channel mentions a user called SoraKasaiSkyFire is going to upload them on Youtube. It’s a short little interview session done on the show floor.

This was Kara’s first time in Vegas.

The host is actually an long-time fan of RWBY and opens by talking about how Monty’s legacy has carried on. He highlights Grimm Eclipse and asks if we’ll see RWBY go into other games. Lindsay hopes for an MMO and mentions Amity Arena and Blazblue Cross Tag Battle. Barbara also mentions the Combat Ready board game and Vicious Circle, an unrelated RT project.

What jobs besides being a Huntress do you think your character would have? Barbara thinks Yang would be a personal trainer. Arryn thinks Blake would be a civil lawyer. Kara thinks Weiss would become a Broadway star, and Lindsay goes for Ruby going into a bakery.

If you could bring back any dead character at the cost of a living one, who? Lindsay immediately offers Pyrrha in exchange for Salem (Kara gets ticked off because she was going to say that). Arryn jokingly says “Kill Zwei,” while Barbara mulls over Torchwick. Kara says kill Jacques and bring back Pyrrha.

What advice do you have for people who want to get into the entertainment industry? Lindsay talks about how it’s overwhelming that RWBY took off when they envisioned it as a small passion project and says to keep an eye out for more side-projects.  

Sunday

VOD link here. They’re playing some Smash during the Q&A.

Host Guy’s shirt offends me on a spiritual level. The whole “Stars of such anime like RWBY, Red Vs Blue and Camp Camp” line makes me snicker. That’s my token anime elitism moment out of the way.

Apparently it’s a semi-infrequent thing for the VAs where they’ll meet people cosplaying as RWBY characters and the cosplayers won’t recognize them.

What is the current biggest flaw your character has going into Volume 7? Kara thinks Weiss needs to learn how to get along with her family. Barb thinks Yang is a bit too caring for her friends and talks about how Yang is particularly going through some self-discovery and her abandonment issues in relation to Raven. 

What advice would you give aspiring voice actors? Barbara talks about how hard it is to get into VA work, but there’s always something out there, even if it’s just a car commercial or a friend doing some small animation project. It mostly comes down to being in the right place at the right time. Arryn quips that she could use some advice herself.  

They get interrupted a lot by the Smash play. 

What was your favorite volume to record for and why? Barb- Volume 5 because of Yang’s arc with Raven. Arryn- Volume 5 as well, since that’s when Blake heads home and has to work through the eternal problem of Daddy Issues, (”Since that’s what everyone has.”) and that Blake got to rally the troops. 

How do you deal with emotion in the studio? Barbara explains how challenging it is. Camera acting lets you act through your body language and face, but with VA work you have to carry everything through your voice. Arryn mentions how Blake is very monotonous in the early volumes and how she had to take a few tries to get that level without it falling into sounding asleep. 

If RWBY’s Aura had a scent what would it smell like? Barbara thinks Yang’s would smell like citrus. Arryn goes for a newly opened book. Lindsay and Kara were too distracted by Smash to answer so Barb and Arryn opine that Ruby’s would smell like cookies and Weiss’s Aura would smell like a waterfall or hot linen. 

What are the best and worst qualities of your characters in your eyes? Barbara thinks Yang’s best quality is how much she cares for the people in her life, but that’s also her weakness since she needs to learn when to draw the line and work on her temper. Arryn thinks Blake doesn’t talk about her feelings a lot and had a bad problem to run from her problems, but she’s unfailingly honest when she does stick around. 

Which outfits of Team RWBY do you like the most? Barbara holds a soft spot for her OG outfit but bluntly says that she’s looking forward to the new Atlas outfits (they’ve really not been trying to hide that Atlas will mark new outfits for RWBY at least). Arryn has apparently seen Blake’s new gear but thinks her favorite Blake outfit was her PJs. 

What jobs besides being Huntress would your character have chosen? This got asked the day prior. The only new addition is Barbara and Arryn joking a mechanic Yang would be sexy.

I think this was actually my question- I asked Arryn if she thought Adam was ever a good person or if he was always a psycho. Arryn firmly believes he was always a monster who “dissected animals as a kid,” like Sid from Toy Story. Arryn also mentions the people who were bitter at Adam not getting a redemption arc, while Barbara talks about how people try and find the good in villains.  

They go off topic and talk about games for a long bit. Barbara used to love Smite and played in a few tournaments in-house in RT, while Arryn loves Animal Crossing and Borderlands. Lindsay has been undefeated for the entire Q&A to this point.

What’s the hardest challenge your character’s faced. Kara thinks just going to Beacon was a big challenge for Weiss, and also her confrontation with Jacques at the fundraiser. Barbara mentions confronting Adam at the end of Volume 6. Arryn talks briefly about going home to her family in Volume 4 before getting interrupted by Lindsay’s winning streak being broken.  

The guy host decides to ask a few questions exclusively to Ruby- she agrees with how Ruby’s Aura would smell. Ruby’s greatest challenge has been trying to find herself and move out of her socially awkward/lone wolf shell through becoming a leader and finding that inner strength, which manifested in Volume 6 with her arguing with Qrow.

Final question- any common fan opinions about your characters you don’t like? Kara refuses to let White Knight die and is sure that Weiss has a small crush on Jaune. Barbara isn’t very fond of when people’s headcanons or theories are proven wrong and they criticize the show because of it. “Difference between criticism and hate.” Arryn hates that some people still ship Blake and Adam. Lindsay doesn’t enjoy some people’s takes of characters being bad and that they shouldn’t be in the show, it’s more than just black and white for some characters (someone tell whoever’s writing Cinder that -_-).

[wazafam]

Despite a build-up of promise, the finale episode of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier failed overall. The finale found Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie) and Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan) squaring off in a final battle against the anarchist terrorist group the Flag-Smashers, led by Karli Morgenthau (Erin Kellyman), who were intent on assassinating the Global Repatriation Council on the eve of an important vote. As is usual with Marvel movies and TV shows, some plot lines were resolved, other stories were set up, and hints at brand-new superheroes from the comics entering the MCU were dropped.

The six-episode miniseries (or season, if it gets an order for season 2) tackled a number of complex topics along the way, some poignantly and others seemingly just check a box off on a list. Along with the central problem of the Flag-Smashers, Sam's individual struggle was learning to come to terms with being the first Black man to be Captain America while Bucky was dealing with laying the ghosts of his past as the Winter Soldier to rest. Helmut Zemo (Daniel Brühl) also featured in the series as Bucky and Sam's temporary ally – at least before Ayo and some of the Dora Milaje showed up for a subplot involving tracking him down and returning him to prison. Meanwhile, the Flag-Smashers and their cause were also given screen time, if not exactly clear focus.

Related: Captain America 4: Sam's MCU Future After Falcon & Winter Soldier Explained

It's a lot of plot to wrap up in a single finale episode, and while some of the lesser storylines were resolved earlier (or largely forgotten entirely), the finale had quite a few major stories and loose ends to juggle. Unfortunately, it failed in that aim. It's telling that overall, the first season of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is at a solid 87% on Rotten Tomatoes, but the finale is currently sitting at a dismal 59%. The general consensus is that the final episode was a letdown for a few reasons.

It's hard to overstate how little happened for an episode of 52 minutes. The attempted GRC takeover and battle is a whopping 25 minutes of the episode. Sam's speech is another four. And the credits, minus the brief mid-credits scene, eat up nine minutes of those 51 minutes. In essence, one single battle and follow-up speech takes up two-thirds of the entire episode. That's just poor pacing. For a series that dealt with a number of weighty issues, the finale being reduced to one big punch-'em-up fight was an enormous letdown and a regression in terms of storytelling.

In fairness, it's worth noting that Covid-19 forced delays in production, but more, it also forced a number of considerable changes to the story itself. There was reportedly a virus storyline that had to be cut in light of the current pandemic and it's been confirmed that Julia Louis-Dreyfus's Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine was supposed to make her first appearance in Black Widow but it ended up being introduced in Falcon & Winter Soldier after release date delays forced the Marvel film to be bumped back by more than a year and release after the Disney+ show. The Covid seams were clear throughout the series: some plotlines were dropped completely and characters disappeared for episodes at a time, other storylines were rushed or lacked clarity, and the editing was at times jumpy. There was enough great chemistry between the two lead stars, gravitas provided by Carl Lumbly as Isaiah Bradley, and thought-provoking moments to mostly carry the series through the first five episodes. But in the finale, the wheels finally fell completely off. With so many stories that needed to be given time to bring them to a close in a satisfying manner, the finale felt like an episode centered on one fight and then cobbled together with the scraps of whatever footage was left.

One of the most surprising and disappointing elements of the finale was how painfully hamfisted and on the nose much of the dialogue was. Sam Wilson's speech at the end sounded less like an organic moment and more as if Anthony Mackie would turn to the camera at any minute and say, "In case you didn't notice, I'm laying out my manifesto as the Black Captain America" before winking and turning back to the other characters. Likewise, the callback dialogue between two Black male characters of, "Hey, it's Black Falcon!" "No. That's Captain America." was so absurdly unnecessary and cheesy that more than a few people on social media commented on how it made them laugh aloud – not the reaction one would want from the audience during what's supposed to be an inspiring and serious moment.

Related: How Did Marvel Get The Falcon & The Winter Soldier So Wrong?

Before the finale, Falcon and the Winter Soldier tackled complex issues like being Black in America and what it means to be a hero or a villain with a morally gray touch and often an ambiguous stance. That approach allowed audiences to debate scenes, think about the messages they sent, and draw their own conclusions. The entire point of the series through the first five episodes was to underscore that in a post-Blip MCU, the line between good guys and bad guys is thin, and the world is no longer so black and white. Thus, the finale delivering Sam's big moment as nothing more than a heavy-handed morality play was jarring. It felt like an episode written for the audience Marvel was worried hadn't quite gotten the first five episodes and the issues they explored. Unfortunately, in doing so, it undermined what the series had done to that point. One good thing did come out of Sam's pointed speech, however: It finally explained what exactly the Flag-Smashers were trying to stop the GRC from doing, a point that hadn't exactly been made clear in the series.

Both Karli and Sharon Carter (Emily Van Camp) got the short end of the stick in the finale. Karli Morgenthau's arc felt like a regression to Phase 1 of the MCU, when villains were little more than 2D constructs serving as walking plot catalysts and then killed off as soon as their function was served. Karli's character being underwritten and her motivations unclear were major issues throughout the series, but her being casually killed at the hands of Sharon Carter and dying quickly only served to underscore how little audiences ever truly learned about her character. Viewers were given a surface explanation of what she and the Flag-Smashers wanted, but not exactly why, what Karli's own personal motivations were, or what happened in her past to turn her into such a zealot. What could and should have been a poignant moment with her death turned into merely a plot point resolution to tick off the list.

As for Sharon Carter, her character has suffered in a similar way over a longer period of time. The MCU has never quite known what to do with Sharon, giving her moments of showing her bravery and heroism only to waste her potential or turn her into a will-they/won't-they potential love interest of Steve Rogers. In theory, she went on the run for a few years, disappeared in the Blip, then returned with everyone else a few months ago. In the interim, it was established she'd made a nice life for herself as an art thief and forger in Madripoor. However, it was later revealed Sharon Carter was the Power Broker and, in the mid-credits scene, that she'd gone full-on villain. While it's exciting to know that her character may finally get the interesting writing and screentime she's deserved, Sharon's heel-turn never felt fully earned, especially for a woman who well knew that she'd be a rogue agent and exiled for doing what she did during the events of Captain America: Civil War. In the unseen interim, there was an enormous change in Sharon's personality, evidenced by her unceremoniously killing Karli, who was still just a kid, a line Sharon never would have crossed before. If there was a story that justified Sharon's new ruthless coldness, it's not one the audience was privy to and so her turn to villainy doesn't sit right. Not yet, anyway.

Throughout the series, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier tackled fraught topics from dealing with PTSD and trauma to racism. Some of those topics it did great justice to, others, not as much. The series should be commended for swinging for the fences with some of the issues it explored; the show was timely, with many of the conversations it evoked necessary and long-overdue. It's well past time for Marvel to start exploring difficult issues with thoughtfulness and depth.

Related: Falcon And The Winter Soldier: Why Bucky Said He Failed Twice

However, the speed and ease with which a number of these issues were resolved in the finale did them a disservice. After a single, unseen conversation with Yori (Ken Takemoto) in which Bucky finally came clean about having killed Yori's son when he was the Winter Soldier, Bucky decides he no longer needs therapy, apparently magically cured. In just a few days, 90 years of trauma were seemingly resolved and put to bed, which isn't how it works. Likewise, after brutally murdering a man in an uncontrolled rage and then trying to also kill Bucky and Sam, John Walker, too, is suddenly restored to being of sound mind after one moment in which he sacrificed vengeance for heroism. While Walker making the decision not to punish the bad guys but to save the innocent (or as innocent as the GRC can be), is a big step toward redemption, the fact of his sometimes considerably unstable mental state remains. Neither that nor his very recent transgressions were so much as once mentioned in the finale, however.

But the finale failed Isaiah Bradley perhaps most of all. His story was tragic, horrific, and heartbreaking; the decades of torture and suffering and neglect he'd endured at the hands of the U.S. government shaping him into understandable bitterness and fear. Isaiah's life for decades had been a matter of trying to lay low and not attract any attention in order to protect himself and his grandson. Sam putting Isaiah's story out there for the world to see in the form of a statue and an exhibit without his permission was shockingly insensitive and disrespectful considering the last time they'd talked, the old Super Soldier reiterated that he'd be killed if his story were told. Regardless of whether or not that's any longer true now that Sam carries weight as the new Captain America, blindsiding Isaiah with the reveal did not come across as the heartwarming moment it was meant to be, but a complete lack of consent and out-of-character for both men.

It, like a number of choices in the last episode of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, might have made sense given more time to develop. The entire season could have used about two more episodes to flesh out some of the stories and characters instead of cutting contextual corners. While the series was a lot of fun overall and should be commended for its ambition, it was wildly uneven, no episode more than the finale. Hopefully, if there is a season 2 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, it will sort out the issues of the first season and its finale with more time and no Covid to work around.

Next: 7 Biggest Questions After The Falcon & The Winter Soldier Finale

Why Falcon & The Winter Soldier’s Finale Failed | Screen Rant from https://ift.tt/3tUFLqg

[republicstandard]

9 Top Tips For Surviving Twitter As A Right Wing Thought Criminal

Should you decide to enlist in the culture war hosted on the Twitter-dot-com hellscape (where every day is Hamburger Hill), there are some things that you need to learn and apply in order to survive to tweet another day. Welcome to boot camp, you scrubs and noobs.

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1. Choose Your Fighter

You, dear-never-ever-before-user of Twitter should take the time to read the Terms of Service. There are a plethora of words and behaviors that can get you booted from the platform and all of them are vaguely explained with the broadest interpretation possible. Once you've read Twitters soul sucking list of obligatory rules that severely limit your speech while protecting it for the people you cross intellectual swords with in the idea war, you are ready to build your player.

As Twitter is becoming pretty censorious, I'm also on: Gab: https://t.co/TrQ2JW4sAI YouTube: https://t.co/1NfMOYwkbF FB: https://t.co/zeAtcHTDcf WT: https://t.co/xs18l5Tpkc pic.twitter.com/EkVtklMN10

— Orwell & Goode 🇨🇱 (@OrwellNGoode) May 14, 2018

The limits are on the far end of infinity. You may choose to be a cute doggo, or perhaps an ms-paint frog or toad, an oft overlooked historical figure, a painting, or a parody of a living or dead celebrity with a morbidly hilarious twist. Your creativity in creating your avatar and name has a moment to really shine here but whatever you do, don't choose your own face and name because some of the people you talk to want to kill you. Or, at least completely ruin your life so that you will do it yourself. This is not an exaggeration. Rest in peace, Andrew.

2. Your first tweet

Oh good. You decided to stick around.

For the love all that is holy do not tweet using the hashtag #MyFirstTweet. It's very tempting, I know, but as it's your very first tweet, everyone you run across will already know it's your very first ever tweet on account of there being no previous tweets preceding it. The new friends that you make today will use this tweet to let their friends know that you have taken the monumental step of becoming a brand new Twitter user; so do make it snappy and full of wit, let your personality shine. For goodness sake understand that the monsters that want you dead use the search feature and the hashtag #MyFirstTweet to hunt down brand new baby right wing accounts to have them aborted. Much like they screech about needing the "freedom" to do to actual humans in the streets, wearing nothing but pink knit double peak hats and their own undercoat of rapist-repellent blubber.

Yeah. I went there. Bring it.

3. Follow carefully

Despite the disgusting urchins that lurk about bandying their rotund degeneracy on #findom, the mountain of actual pedophiles that will try to convince you they are the good guys, and the entirety of #blacktwitter, Twitter is actually a very friendly place and you are bound to make lots of wholesome friends fast; especially if you have never ever been on the platform before, not even once.

Exercise restraint in your tender first few days and resist following back your new friends too quickly as this will result in a “shadowban" or will prompt Big Brother to underhandedly investigate your phone number under the guise of checking to see if you're human, as if robots can't be programmed to use a phone. I suggest just a few follows per hour- keeping it under 100 for the first day. Apparently, according to Ze Bluebird Gestapo, having like minded friends is the same thing as terrorism and you will be gulaged for it. Yes, I'm mixing up Nazi and Communist metaphors in the same sentence. Don't @ me.

4. Personal Security

You need to download and use a VPN. The animals you will run across will pull cute little stunts, like e-drag you into an argument by calling you completely true things as if they are an insult, and acting as if per capita is a flavor of snow cone only people who hate communism can taste. and then drop a link as if they are proving a point, but in reality is an IP address snatcher which is used to find out who and where you are, instead of just answering the question about why 13% of the population commits over 54% of all violent crime.

Next you will want to turn on the double authentication feature, because as soon as you say something true, some cyber-SJW is going to start jaw-jacking from the monumental sugar rush from powdered donuts and 17 cases of orange flavored Mountain Dew and try to hack your account. In the same vein, make certain your email address is hidden and that you aren't using @YourRealEmailAddress as your handle. For your password, use a ridiculous combination of letters and numbers that have no connection to your actual life- which the hideous banshees and their he-minions are trying to end. Am I hammering that point home enough?

Remember to self care today. And be kind. And always punch Nazis.

— Emma Evans (@TrancewithMe) June 28, 2018

Finally, delete the phone number you used to set up your account. You may need it later and it would be sad if it were already occupied.

5. Get a Thesaurus

I've said it before but it bears repeating; get a thesaurus. Contrary to popular belief, you are in fact allowed to talk about objective biological realities, religion, the various systems of government in the world, criticize certain groups of rootless manipulative cabals of wandering tribal people without getting suspended if you follow three simple rules.

Frame and maintain the conversation.

Use uncommon synonyms.

Subtlety can be volatile.

It goes without saying that a debate isn't won until it changes someone's mind. Minds can't be won if the conversation gets deleted. Since mein feind maintains control of the flow of information via control of the media, what you say on twitter could be the final straw that bends the balance of someone's mind to the right. We want that, we need that, especially as the left gets more unhinged.

Understand that the globo-tech complex is happy to assist in the restriction of speech through the creation of algorithms and databases in which words are input and some alert dings off in some rainbow diversity cheeto cheese powder crusted dungeon sticky with sips drips where some slack eyed Gollum pushes the ban button; and you're suddenly on the other side of a suspension. One such word is “retard” and there are many more. Aside from minority reporting, there are particular words and phrases searched just to report wrong-thinking accounts. A small price to pay to cleanse the universe of criticism that may mean people have to self-reflect and experience personal growth and take responsibility for their lives, the horror.

Take what you want to say, leave off the slurs, play around with synonyms and you can take a blatant violation of ToS and turn it into poetic philosophy. If you're intent on low brow trolling, I don't blame you, but I'll miss you when you're gone.

6. Engaging the Enemy

Never engage a hostile. There I said it, my legal obligations have been met. You cannot blame me for what you do with the following entirely hypothetical thought experiment. This article is satire and not for use by anyone, ever. I warned you.

If have attracted a swarm of busy-body detractors through the use of hashtags, do yourself a solid and check their bio and follower count. If their bio contains and reference to #resist just block them, they are there for one purpose and it's to bait you into a violation of ToS. Similarly, if they have 0 or 1 followers it is a sock account of a #resist account. If they have less than 50 followers they have nothing to say, no one likes them anyway, and they just want your attention.

Doxxxing is officially endorsed by Twitter dot comhttps://t.co/aPr8KZAO65

— These tweets are endorsed by this site. (@EndorsedTweets) June 21, 2018

To engage a hostile blue check mark I recommend to avoid placing your extra-spicy tweet on the thread under their tweet. Instead, drop a teaser; then quote tweet the azure-ticked parasite and drop your main show, curtain call, and encore onto your own wall. Most of the people who sit around deriving sexual pleasure from the fantasy of Nazi scalp-hunting haunt the timelines of these verified whine bags, just waiting for you to show up to report your ‘spouts of hate’. Or, as I like to call them, incontrovertible but inconvenient truths.

7. Types of bans and what to do

You are going to get banned at some point. Deal with it.

Shadowban: this is triggered by following too fast, liking too much, retweeting too often, being too active when new, using too many hashtags, using popular hashtags in multiple tweets, and just for the random inconvenience because you're found to be guilty by association. Your options are to take a break, or power through it. There is some theory that these shadowbans are on timers of 1, 3, 5, 12, and 24 hours and that tweeting resets the timer and extends the discomfort. If you have triggered one you will experience a sudden drop in interaction and may think that your friends are ignoring you. They likely just aren't getting your notifications. If you want to check, DM a friend and ask them to tell you if your notifications are coming through. DO NOT use a shadowban checker website, it's believed that these are run by la resistance, and may put your account at risk; or at least in a database to be watched closely. In any case, shadowbans are usually temporary and you'll be back to normal before you know it. It's worth noting that more shadowbanning occurs during certain news cycles like mass casualty events, terror attacks, and when the President does something noteworthy.

Permanent Shadowban: On rare occasions the shadowban never goes away. I don't know what to do about it but if you have some verifiable information regarding this, please contact me or Republic Standard.

12 hour, 24 hour, and 7 day temporary restrictions: Oooh you bad bad boy! Looks like you broke ToS and had to delete some tweets. You should have followed my advice. Tsk tsk. You can DM your mutual followers, participate in DM groups and you can share tweets from the timeline to the DMs, and block accounts. You cannot like, retweet, or share pictures nor can you follow anyone. There's nothing you can do about this; you're stuck like Chuck, whoever he is. There's no use getting your panties in a twist over it though, it's a good time to get to know your friends a little better one on one and perhaps even explore the possibility of meeting in person. It's an isolating online experience but you do have a little time to reflect on what you can do to refine your technique.

Suspension: Sadly, anything after 7 days and you're gone. Finished. Never to be seen from ever again. No coming back from this, George. It's over. Finito. Buh bye. Later gator. Basically dead. Sayonara. Ciao.

Aren't you glad you remembered to delete your phone number?

8. Opsec

I wish I didn't have to go there, but I have to go there. Even if you have a pure, hate-free, friendly account that never runs the risk of crossing ToS, you still aren't out of the frying pan.

Being right wing has painted a big old target on your back and some of the people aiming arrows at you are going to look a lot like friends, and potential lovers.

Infiltration isn't a new tactic. On anonymous Twitter it's not even particularly hard. Despite the fact that most people who try are hilariously bad at it, some aren't. Despite all the accurate memes about the left being dumb and useless, when it comes to operational security the left is a decade ahead of the right. Whether you agree with the ideas of real-world rallies or not, we have to come to the understanding that social media platforms are not secure places to organize such things. Unite the Right organizers just managed to doxx themselves because they could not get this very simple idea into their skulls. If it isn't on a website you control from the code up and you are operating military grade hardware, it's not even remotely close to secret. Stop thinking that it is.

Hey hey hey time to get doxxed by antifa from using discord YEEEEAAAA BOIIIII https://t.co/zZ3kO54Wmg

— Pikawubz (@pikawubz) May 8, 2018

Don't share your photos, too much detail about your location, or too much detail about your life. If you choose to trust someone, make sure it's mutual. As difficult as it is to imagine loyalties do change. Ideological commitment under certain conditions like bribery, threats of doxxing, or a broken heart, can be overcome. Don't forget that this is an ideological war and the stakes are high.

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9. You are not alone

You've made it this far, and this following section truly is the most important part. You have found a warm community of the brightest minds, kindest hearts and most determined people I have ever known to exist. Yeah, we have our in-fights and squabbles; what family doesn't? Helping one another to discover truths that have been hidden from us, fight for a future we want and need, through tough times, and sharing laughter, anger, fears and frustrations bonds us together. If you are ever in a situation where you feel isolated, reach out. If you feel despondent, reach out. If you are being threatened, reach out. We are here for each other. You never have to be alone again.

Happy tweeting. See you in the trenches.

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