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sgiandubh · 10 months ago

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The door faces North

This has been, by far, one of the most complex investigations I have ever done in this fandom, and I am truly sorry for the long wait I had to inflict on many of you & for the uncharacteristic radio silence in DMs and comments. During this peculiar journey, I checked, double-checked and cross-checked as many details as I could and I carefully considered at least two different theories, of which I still think they do not exclude each other. I am now confident enough to make not only an educated guess, but also a daring bet on SRH's next whisky move.

Also, sorry for the length of this post. Truly sorry - think of the completely pulverized night sleep I had to give up, in order to bring this to you.

But first, a word on Marple's obvious PR tip on the Hopetoun Estate refurbishment and distillery old/new project. I am fair game enough to tell you the obvious: her overall recounting of the principals is roughly correct, spare perhaps one or two minor details. Correct, but dry - she limits herself to the technical documentation submitted by Golden Decanters and The Hopetoun Estates Trust to the West Lothian Council for approval. She correctly points out that S is not a visible part of the deal, at this point in time and she does a decent summing up of a very, very, VERY plethoric amount of bureaucratic information. She concludes, and I think she is partially right, that he might be interested in becoming an investor (I am taking things a bit further, though). But in doing so, she focuses on the development phase of the project only: the possible connections with SRH and his own spirits business are less, if at all, obvious.

I am going to give you my view of all this charade and, if I am going to mention (and probably repeat) some things already found by her, I am going to focus on the people: this is where the whole story starts to become remarkably interesting, at least to me. After all, I remember promising you some more clarity. Here's an honest, fair play take.

Little did I know, when I started to write about that (now defunct) company, Midhope Castle Distillery, Ltd (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/748597198794670080/the-info-provided-above-is-correct-but-outdated?source=share), that my investigation would turn to this:

... for it was to be just an almost random layer of a juggernaut matryoshka of defunct or still active companies, featuring roughly the same people and no less than 6 different name combinations centered around Midhope, Hopetoun, etc.

The following pics will give you an idea - feel free to open them in a separate tab, for clarity . I preferred this synthetic approach, because otherwise you will curse the shite out of me. But it had to be done, with or without Depon, Advil's Greek cousin (and before you ask a graphologist, this is my handwriting, and nobody else's 🙃):

The only explanation for the whole almost frantic Midhope/Hopetoun crisscross/hopscotch (LOL) combos I can think of is two people trying to secure one (several?) credit lines or to attract significant investors for their project and ultimately failing to do so. But I might be wrong (although I doubt that, thank you). Out of this entire maze ( I swear I now have a migraine), there are only two active companies remaining: Golden Decanters Ltd (renamed GD Spirits Ltd, in April 2022) and Midhope Ltd (renamed Skosk Ltd, in July 2023). It is on them I am going to focus my gaze.

GD Spirits Ltd was incorporated in Berwick-upon-Tweed, England (just across the Scottish border), probably for tax reasons, on March 11, 2015, the nature of its business being listed as 'wholesale of wine, beer, spirits, etc.'. It started with a team of two women: Julia Mackenzie-Gillanders and Ann Medlock, whose names we are going to see over and over again in all the eight corporate avatars. Later down the timeline (LOL for three decades and a half), on January 30, 2018, they were briefly (until July 19, 2018) joined by two very interesting professionals: Mrs. Margaret Boswell, an attorney at the very prestigious international law firm Gide Loyrette Nouel (Paris and London offices)...

...and Ken Robertson, former Corporate Affairs Director at Diageo Whisky, a subsidiary of the international Diageo group, one of the major players on the world spirits' market:

The second company, Skosk Ltd, was incorporated in August 2021, in Perth, Scotland, its nature of business being listed as 'distilling, rectifying and blending of spirits', with the clear intention to align with the exacting criteria prescribed by the 2009 Scotch Whisky Regulations:

[ Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scotch_whisky - sorry, I don't have time to wax lyrical on this, and neither do you]

This time, we only meet again the two distillerettes, Gillanders and Medwick. Up until now, at least, nobody else (attorney, former sales executive, whisky expert) has joined the platoon - TBC? I would not speculate and leave all options open.

There is little to 0 transparency on Skosk's financial situation, at the moment and to be honest, it looks very much like S's co-star (hehe)'s Irish business venture...

... but I was a bit more lucky, and the numbers more chatty, as far as GD Spirits was concerned:

Paging all shipper chartered accountants out there, but to me, it doesn't look great, at the moment. Cash is ridiculous, the net worth is hemorrhaging and the current assets are negligible, compared to 2020, when I think they managed to secure one or two credit lines, but not nearly enough for what they needed. Just enough to pay themselves and their external consultants and cover the operating costs, if you ask me.

The revised Planning Statement, of 8 February 2024, posted first by Marple, echoes my initial guess (COVID blew it up, see link to the first post) and the above assessment:

Mark this: 'Discussions are now proceeding with investors and there is a realistic prospect that work will begin in the near future (2024/2025) to implement the permission.' Given that they will start with the road and parking rehabilitation and upgrading, probably overlapping with the distillery building, it would make sense to begin this autumn at the earliest, with the most urgent: access to the site itself.

The initial Planning Statement, dated 9 July 2020 and re-posted on March 21st, 2024, tells a more detailed story. This is part and parcel of the current project as well, since the revision is just pointing out the changes operated, not the entire rest, which remains unchanged. You be the judge:

Also keep in mind this tiny, tiny thing: the Business Plan is 'submitted (...) under Private and Confidential Cover'. See where I am looking?

The initial plan was (and still is) for GD Spirits to produce their own booze, using Midhope's own barley (this is very important for the rest of my theory!). They even offer an overview of the real impact of their project on the local economy:

20 to 38 initial new job creations for a £ 15 to 30 million investment is not 'huge', madam Marple. Cumbernauld is huge. This? This is rather modest, if you ask me. But hey, what do I know about the labor market, right?

That initial Statement tells also the story they want to tell about the genesis of their idea, the scouting for the right location and a couple of other interesting details:

So they are telling us they started to look for the perfect location in 2018 and oh, hello, they found the Hopetoun Estate rather quickly, already starting the pre-planning application consultations as early as July 2019 (don't get me started, please):

If so, then why did they incorporate not one, but two different companies clearly linking them to the Estate (Hopetoun Estate Distillery Ltd and Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd) the same day and as early as May 23rd 2017 (and both dissolved in December 2022), as my above penciled timeline (LOOOOOL) shows? Who is really behind this project and why this entire ballet? It's like me pre-emptively looking for rental properties in (let's randomly guess) Lisbon, when it's just wishful thinking, heavily projecting and with 0 guarantees I will be posted there, right? I mean, I adore and deeply know Lisbon and I would be thrilled to go there. But I am not currently looking for any rental property, just like that, because that would be a #silly, rookie mistake. In their case, I think there's a different situation - again, you be the judge.

A first answer, as to who is really behind that project, was given by the UK media, back in 2020:

How odd, when we know that both Mrs. Boswell, the well-traveled attorney and Mr. Robertson resigned from GD Spirits in July 2018. Do they still say hi to the two distillerettes? Do they quietly keep an eye on the project? Are they silent partners? Business angels? Shareholders? Time to remind you that under UK law, there is 0 visibility on the shareholder's structure of a company. You just see the officers (Director, Secretary, etc), on the Company House website. On an umpteenth, last- second cross-check, it became apparent that Mr. Robertson remained involved in another company of the distillerettes, Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd (yes, the one mentioned above), until its voluntary strike-off, in December 2022.

Their best laid plans do mention OL, and how could it be otherwise? But all this £ 15 to 30 million hullaballoo for 20.000 people only (who counted them and how?), on a seasonal basis?

High-end restaurant, luxury B&B, event spaces, you name it. Interesting, to say the least.

And, for the people in the back, who still think SRH has a 100 years lease at Midhope (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, the stupidity!):

This is why he commented as a 'member of the public'. At face value, there is no public involvement into that project. Yet. But it is my belief there is a vested interest in all this, justifying the comment, the visit, those papers rolled in his fist, etc. At first, I thought that was a visit to Lallybroch by the Exec Producer of OL's Season 8, to discuss technicalities - and shared that privately with a wonderful friend only. I mean, why not and still perfectly possible. But then, as I could not sleep tonight and felt guilty to have you all waiting, I started to connect some tiny dots.

Like this one, for a start:

Yes, I know, Marple told you that FIRST, I would not dare say otherwise, because if I did there would be a transcontinental screech. That trademark application was filed at the US Patent and Trade Office in September 2023 and I thought (and still partially do) it was a potential rebranding solution to The Sassenach's EUIPO nightmare (much exaggerated by the fandom's toothbrush experts):

But you also know I am an idiot and I always check people's CVs, when I follow a thread. This morning, the one Distillerette I am particularly interested in is Mrs. Julia Hall-Mackenzie-Gillanders (née Scales) and not like *urv would be.

Her LinkedIn profile is exceptionally talkative, too:

... and a BA (with Honors) in Fashion Design, class of 2005, at the Northumbria University.

The Financial Times article 'From packing boxes to wine deals worth millions', you can read on her LinkedIn page, tells a very interesting story. It is the story of a shy underdog (lots of temple bells clinging, at the moment), who made it by sheer persistence. It starts like this:

'When a painfully shy young woman contacted a fine wine merchant and said ' I have no qualifications- can I help?', she got the job and today is signing deals worth millions of pounds.'

It obviously did ring a bell and if SRH knows she exists (she is married, *urv!), and I dare to speculate he does, it must have struck a deep chord. Would I do business with her? I wouldn't speculate, although I am not very sure. Would he? He'd probably listen very carefully to what she has to pitch, for a start.

And what she has to pitch is also very interesting, in his world. A brief look at the Golden Decanters' website shows a first high-end single malt sourced collection of 4 exceptional expressions already sold out:

And when they mean high-end, they mean gold leaf labelling and all the tralala:

And, some last minute news, too:

Remind me, because I am an old woman, after this white night: wasn't The Sassenach (no comment, we agree to disagree and I am very skeptical), a blend?

We have these dots, then:

Bold Underdog ->spirits business->high-end collection of single malts sold out->business partnership with owners of Midhope Castle, fictional Lallybroch in OL, including a distillery and whisky production with Midhope/Lallybroch barley -> visit by the male lead and spirits entrepreneur (also the fictional Lallybroch laird) to Midhope/Lallybroch and vested interest in the estate's most recent business project....

What if The Sassenach would be included, for a start, in that new Blended Collection? And could it really be fanfic to imagine a future high-end, limited edition, Lallybroch whisky produced at Midhope, with Midhope/Lallybroch barley? It wouldn't be the first time, would it: after all, they did it with that limited tequila batch.

As I said, because I am (remember Someone? LOL) a 'silly cow', I was hoping he wouldn't do it. But my guess is he might very well do exactly that, with those people and under that label.

It's half past eight AM, local time and I need a strong, black coffee.

I rest my case (and I am bracing myself for the screeching). I will answer Anons later, after I come back from the hairdresser's. Appointments must be kept at all costs. Thank you all for your patience.

#boozewars #business #fandom #shitshow

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intothedysphoria · 11 months ago

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Steve started going to the gym the day after Eddie dumped him.

Technically, the two events were unrelated. Eddie avoided the gym like the plague so it wasn’t like Steve was going out of his way to meet him and they had a 30% membership discount the month of April, so really he was just taking advantage of a good deal.

Honestly, Steve worked out when he was stressed and he really needed that adrenaline hit to stop himself from crawling into the fridge and never coming out again.

He’d gotten up at 6AM, made sure that he looked semi presentable to be out in public and was just settling onto the running machine when the sound of Metallica started blasting from the Pilates room just opposite the regular gym.

After Steve recovered from his almost panic attack thinking that Eddie was actually getting fit, and the confusion at the instructor using fucking Metallica for 6AM Pilates, Steve decided in a bored, sad, slightly horny way, to check out the class.

Well, the instructor definitely wasn’t Eddie.

Eddie didn’t have those muscles.

Eddie didn’t have bleach blonde hair.

Eddie didn’t have a fucking tongue piercing.

Steve quickly decided he was in way over his head and frantically started to back away from the door but it was too late. The guy had already seen him and was gesturing him over.

Fucking shit.

The instructor was called Billy. Which was fun. He’d just moved to Hawkins from Los Angeles (why???????) and he was always up for new students so why didn’t Steve give it a go, he promised the Metallica was just a joke since it never failed to wake everyone up.

Steve was not a Pilates guy. That was all he learned from the hour long session. Well, that and when Billy’s tongue flicked out and did a little corkscrew, he looked like he’d be really good at eating- no Steve. Bad thoughts. No rebound.

Billy clapped a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder on the way out and Steve swore he started developing a semi.

This was not going to work.

He did what he always did when considering bad horny decisions and called Carol. The conversation was short and to the point.

“Babe didn’t Munson dump you literally like yesterday?”

She was popping her gum across the line. It was infuriating. Steve took a deep breath before responding.

“Well yeah but-“

Carol cut him off. She had a habit of doing that.

“Yeah but nothing babe.” Her voice trailed out of his phone like cigarette smoke, dancing across his room. “Either you let me key his dumbass weed van or you give up any dreams you’ve ever had about bouncing on blondie muscleface’s dick. Kay babe?”

Then she hung up.

Steve decided to go to Pilates class every day for the following two weeks. It kind of grew on him. Heather, the assistant instructor was bitchy and fun in a way he liked and her long acrylics reminded him of Carol. He made a mental note to himself to introduce her to Robin.

Things on the Billy side of things had not improved however. They’d gotten significantly worse. He was getting boners in public like a teenager, couldn’t speak in full sentences and his heart started doing that gooey mushy thing, especially when Billy told him he’d done a good job.

It’s a rebound not a crush had become his new mantra. Unfortunately, it wasn’t exactly true.

It was definitely a crush. A big one. Even bigger than the ones he’d had on Jonathan or Nancy or Eddie. And it was a problem.

He didn’t do a Clueless and start wearing revealing athletics wear or anything but he did start flirting just a little. To test out if what he thought had been completely made up in his brain or if something was actually happening.

Billy consistently responded with innuendos so intense, they would make Tommy ask him to cool it.

Ok. So Billy seemed to like him back. All Steve needed to do was ask him to dinner or something. No biggie.

He walked into next Mondays class with a mission which was immediately shattered by Billy wearing a signed Corroded Coffin t shirt. And Corroded Coffin was still small as shit, if Billy had it signed, he was friends with Eddie no doubt.

Running out of the class may not have been the most dignified option but it was the only one his dumbass brain could think of at the time.

He ran all the way back to his apartment onto his bed then cried. After half an hour he decided to check his phone only to be faced with a text from a number Steve must have just thought he’d blocked.

Eddie 💖🖤☺️

Can we talk?

Steve messaged back telling him to go away but five seconds later relented and said sure.

The phone started ringing immediately.

“Hey Steve. Why’d you run out of Billy’s Pilates class?”

Steve wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or both. He decided to keep his tone on the cooler side of polite.

“Did he tell you about that?”

There was a long silence for about five minutes before Eddie answered.

“Look Steve……….I know I wasn’t a gentleman when I dumped you. I shouldn’t have just run from the restaurant. That was a dick move. But I really do like Jason and I know for a fact Billy likes you. And you deserve each other. Really.”

Steve sniffled but didn’t answer

“Friends again?” Eddie’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Friends.”

Billy looked slightly frantic the next Pilates class. His hair was a mess and he was wearing a hat with a food stain on it somehow. His face visibly relaxed when he saw Steve.

Billy wasn’t a rebound. He was kind and friendly and opened the door to people who were struggling to get out. His hair was a stupid 80s mullet in 2024, his tattoos were atrocious and Steve thought it might be too soon to say it but he was pretty sure he was in love with him.

Dinner was a good start though, Steve thought as Billy laced their fingers together after the class. Dinner was good.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove ficlet

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qoldenskies · 1 month ago

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I wonder how much Splinter picks apart the memory of Donnie crawling to him and asking for guidance that day.

How apologetic he was for interrupting Splinter at all. The questions—are you mad at me, do you think I’m selfish—and how genuinely childish and young they were in nature. Whether Donnie would have told him what had happened if Splinter hadn’t interrupted him. How long it took before Donnie came to him for help. How when Splinter asked “Are you sure you have not upset them?” the answer was “Maybe, I think so.” “Have you done anything to make them angry with you?” and even with what his brothers had done to him, what Leo had done to him, Donnie still said “Probably.” Agreed when Splinter said they had a reason for treating him that way.

He had the same conversation with April months later, and yet the seeds of it had been here, too—had been there years before.

sometimes i am caught between feeling so bad for splinter and kind of hoping he internalizes the way he brushed him off for of the rest of his life. there's a good chance he will think of that conversation EVERY time donnie reaches out to him looking for a savior or protector, especially after april leaves and he's the only "safe person" in the house when donnie cant think straight.

in an attempt to be unlike of HIS oppressive family he went the opposite way and went for a more relaxed style of parenting, and he veered too hard in that direction and COMPLETELY turned a blind eye to such horrifying abuse happening. it kind of reminds me of like turtle dega nights where he's so shocked to realize the shit they just get up to. for like. fun. he's NOT in a position to shelter them without pushback and he understands that now, which is a big reason he leaves them to make their own decisions when it comes to kitsune.

its hard to find a line between acknowledging theyre independent in a way he cant really stop and need to be treated with that respect and acknowledging theyre children! just kids! his baby boys!!! he's so used to seeing them silly and unserious around him that he hasn't properly processed the weight of his passive neglect until all of THIS blew up in his face. and i think that's best shown through him dismissing donnie. they mostly fell out of conversation after that point, but im sure they exchanged a few words sometime in between (for the sake of realism, its something to acknowledge) and i think splinter would think of that a lot too. why didn't he notice donnie was starting to look up so beat up? getting thinner and thinner? just disappearing during leo's birthday?? staring through him whenever splinter shot im a quick hello on the way to the kitchen??? originally that conversation weighed on the back of his mind already (because i dont think donnie comes to him for comfort like THAT much, technically i think in cc that was usually leo's job. rooftop conversations and all that), but obviously he wouldnt correlate it with any red flags now. just like how april didnt WANT to assume they were doing anything wrong because the four of them were so close, malice just didnt feel like a REALISTIC thing to expect from them and they were acting normal to her!!

cannot even begin to imagine how he was feeling in cw ch1. hearing about most of what they did and seeing how tiny and roughed up donnie was is one thing, and seeing him cling to his robe and inconsolably sob and scream for his daddy is another. splinter probably cant help but wonder if this is what donnie had wanted the whole time. cant help but wonder if he would have reacted like this at ANY point before it all got this far. all he had to do is reach out, for once. to ask HIM if he's okay, for once.

and he didn't.

#ask #canary continuity #ive had a proper conversation between splinter and raph planned out for this next chapter for a While #i might have it start with mikey though. because i should probably address mikey being mad at his dad now that he knows lol #i'll see how it turns out #cw abuse #cw neglect

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bekolxeram · 6 months ago

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I swear this is the last time I bring up that air tanker in 2x14 voluntarily. The bottom line is, if you believe Tommy did fly that plane, that makes him not even superhero level cool, but Jonny Kim level cool. If you believe he didn't, then he's just as cool, always knowing a guy from all walks of line, ready to help out with whatever resource on hand the second Chimney says the word. At the end of the day, he saved the 118 and a bunch of civilians either way, and he did it again in S7 flying to that cruise ship. He'll always be our cool heroic pilot no matter what.

With that being said, I have some thoughts about the CAL FIRE line from the news reporter in that episode. If you're not interested, please read no further. And if you don't want to see this kind of posts at all but still want to read my other content, please block the tag #aviation realism.

I know Bobby said "217 incoming" when he saw that C-130, only the news reporter mentioned it was with CAL FIRE. That's why I suspect the CAL FIRE line was shoved in after the actual scenes were filmed, because they realized or someone explained to them how impractical and dangerous for an urban fire department to own a giant air tanker and just dump tons of water all over the city.

I saw the same technique utilized for the tsunami arc in S3. Anyone who has taken geography in high school can tell that in reality, there is no megathrust fault capable of generating Indian Ocean 2004 or Japan 2011 scale tsunami off the coast of SoCal. So where did the tsunami come from? In 3x02, before Sue asks Maddie to "triage" the dispatchers, you can hear once again a news reporter saying the tsunami is triggered by an earthquake off the coast of Alaska. This takes the fictional tsunami scenario from having zero basis in real life, to possible in extreme cases and greatly exaggerated for dramatic effect.

I thank whatever divine intervention or persistent technical advisor that made the CAL FIRE line possible.

2x14 was first aired on April 15, 2019. What you might not remember or realize is that something notable happened across the Atlantic on the very same day: the Notre-Dame fire. The entire world watched the cathedral burned for hours while over 400 firefighters all over Paris tried to contain the flame. A certain f...... former US president then suggested on Twitter that "perhaps flying water tankers could be used to put it out."

The French immediately responded by pointing out that dumping large amount of water from an aircraft at low altitude could "weaken the structure of Notre-Dame and result in collateral damage to the buildings in the vicinity." A retired FDNY battalion chief also told the media that water bombing would likely make the situation more dangerous, as civilians on the street might be hit if you miss the target.

The entire internet was clowning on that stable genius for such an innovative idea all afternoon. Imagine if 2x14 aired later that evening with not even a smaller single engine one, but a large 4 engine airtanker somehow belonging to the LAFD, that would come off extra stupid, even meme inspiring. But with the CAL FIRE line, they could at least claim that it was the extreme and rare circumstances requiring additional assistance from other agencies in the area, and it was not part of 911-verse LAFD's normal operation.

If the writers had done their homework beforehand and the CAL FIRE thing was always part of the script, good for them. If it was indeed shoved into the scene last minute, then they should thank their lucky stars.

I can already imagine the headache Bobby is going to have working on Hotshots as a consultant.

#tommy kinard #911 meta #aviation realism #bucktommy

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charlesswife · 2 years ago

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Una Noche En Mónaco iii

Mateo con Una T - part ii

unem masterlist

pairing: charles leclerc x latina! reader

summary: after a one night stand between you and charles, he continues on with his formula one career. until two months later, you come back claiming to be pregnant with his child.

warning: charles is an asshole, likeeeeeee proceed with caution. angstttt (i tried my best lmao)

This is the last piece of flashback you guys need to know, everything else you will find out as the story continues 🤭🤭

May 2018

“Charles Leclerc is a fucking asshole and I never wanna see him again,” I said as I got into the car. I took a deep breath and wiped my tears.

“Why? What happened?” Steph asked, “Are you okay? What did he do? Do we kill him?”

I looked at her and told her what happened.

He told me to talk in the living room to talk. He was pretty chill.

“So…” I started, “Um… I’m just gonna be straightforward with you,” I see him nod, I took a deep breath and said, “I’m pregnant.”

He started at me for a second and said, “Really? Congrats! I didn’t know you were with someone already! You could’ve just told me this on the phone,” he laughed, “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that. Good for you!”

What?

“No, Charles. I’m pregnant… with your child.” His smile slowly faded away.

“Nope, I don’t think so.”

“What? What do you mean ‘you don’t think so’?” I asked him.

He got up from his sofa and started pacing around the room, “Question. Do you know who I am?”

“Charles… Leclerc?”

“And do you know what I do?”

“You… race?”

He stopped pacing and said, “Yup. Not mine.”

“But it is!” I told him.

“No,” He said again, this time more aggressive, “And do you know how I know this? Because why else would you come here to tell me this four days before the race? Either someone put you up for this, to mess me up or you are a con artist. So which one is it?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” I shamed my head.

“I don’t? Please, you are not the first one that has tried this trick on me. I don’t even remember your name!” he yelled, “And even if it’s true, what do you want me to do? You want me to love you? To marry you? I would never marry someone like you! How even old are you?”

“I’m eighteen…” I murmured.

“HA!” he laughed, “You probably got knocked up by some random dude and now you wanna blame it on me! The famous Formula One driver! What do you want from me? Is it money? Is that what you want?” He really knows how to hurt people with words.

My eyes started to burn, “I don’t need money from you,” I told him. Tears started to roll down my cheek, “I just want you to be there… for us.” My voice broke.

“Oh please, don’t do this, with your crocodile tears” He rubbed his face with his hands, “Besides, you don’t even look pregnant at all!”

I lifted my hoodie, showing my baby bump, and his eyes widen a bit. “We had sex on March, you would be at least two months along”

“Eleven weeks,” I corrected him.

“Eleven weeks, right? You look bigger than eleven weeks. You probably got pregnant before me and you’re trying to baby-trap me!” He yelled. But he was right, I’ve seen pictures online of women being eleven weeks pregnant, and I am bigger than them.

“No, that’s not true at all! Charles, you were my first time!”

“Wow,” he said in a sarcastic way, “Lucky me. Do you think I’m going to believe any of this? Do you think I’m that stupid?”

“So this asshole basically called you a baby-trapper, manipulator, gold digger, whore?” Steph was mad, and she had every right to be.

I stayed quiet for a second, technically he did, but he didn't use those exact words.

“Steph, let’s just go home”

April 2023

“Mateo come here so I can put sunscreen on you!” My kid dropped his little toy and came to me, “We’re going to go to the bookstore and then get some ice cream. Does that sound good, Mati?”

“Yummy!” he yelled.

After I was done applying sunscreen he started to jump around the apartment yelling “Ice cream! Ice cream.”

“Okay Mateo Alexander, let’s go”

The car rides with Mateo are always fun. He points at all the cars he sees or sings whatever is on the radio — he doesn’t know the songs but he likes to pretend he does.

Once we got to the bookstore, I got him out of the child seat and walked into the store with him in my arms. I approached the register and greeted Steph.

“Pascale is here,” she said. “She finally came with her two sons, I didn’t see their faces though.”

I rolled my eyes, “I’m going to check the store, keep an eye on Mateo, and don’t give him candy,” I warned her, she put her hands up in defense, “We’re getting ice cream later and you know how he gets if he has too much sugar in his system.”

Mateo yelled, “Ice cream!”

I laughed a bit as I was leaving. As I walked around the store, I helped a few customers here and there.

I was organizing a shelf when I heard my name. “Y/n?” My heart dropped to the floor. I turned around but I saw no one. Am I hallucinating or did I hear the voice of Charles Leclerc in my store, calling my name? “Oh sorry, I thought you were someone I know.” The voice came from the other side of the bookshelf.

I speed walked to another section of the store as I was texting Steph “Code Red, you know who is here. Get Mateo.” As I hit send, my body collided with someone else’s. The person grabbed me by the arms so I wouldn’t fall back.

“Wow!” The male voice said. “What’s the rush? Are you okay?�� The first thing that I noticed was his blue eyes and then his thin lips.

“I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “I would’ve seen where I was going,”

“It’s all good,” he said. “More than good.” He let go of me.

We stayed quiet for a quick second, “I’m sorry to be so straightforward but you are very beautiful, like breathtaking beautiful.”

“I’m Arthur, by the way,” he extended his hand towards me. I took it.

“Y/n,” I introduced myself.

“Y/n,” he repeated. “Do you work here, Y/n? So I know if I should come back again,” he laughed.

“I own this store,” I told him. “I’m usually here on the weekends,” As I said that, my phone beeped

Steph - I can’t find Mateo.

“Umm… It was nice to meet you Arthur but I have some stuff to take care of,” I said as I walked away.

“Wait! Can I get your number?” He yelled a bit.

“Come back next week and we should see!” I waved goodbye. What’s wrong with me? I need to find Mateo and get out of here before He sees him.

Charles POV

“It’s so nice to spend the day with my two boys, you guys are always so busy”

“Yeah, too bad Enzo couldn’t be here,” Arthur said.

“It’s fine, he’ll come next time,” Maman said.

Maman decided to take Arthur and me to her new favorite bookstore because “we needed to go there” I opened the door for her.

“What a gentleman, thank you, Charles,” She said.

“Yeah, thank you Charles” Arthur mimicked her.

The bookstore had a whole different vibe from the inside, it was like stepping into a new world. We were greeted by a Taylor Swift song that surprisingly I recognized. I Knew You Were Trouble.

“You guys go walk around, I’m going to the café,” Maman said, as Arthur and I were walking away, she spoke again. “soy Charles, don’t go too far. You have to meet this girl, she’s so sweet and she has this kid who is a literal angel. He reminds me of you actually. A lot.” With that, she walked away. I looked at Arthur, who only shrugged.

As I walked around the shelves I saw a very familiar figure.

Is that…? “Y/n?” The lady turned around. It was someone else. Something in my heart wanted to be Y/n. “Oh sorry,” I apologized. “I thought you were someone I know”

The lady left and soon after a small kid walked by, he was looking from side to side.

“Are you lost?” I asked him. He stopped walking and turned around. I held my breath for a second.

“No,” he said. “My mommy works here.” He turned around and was about to leave, but I didn’t want him to leave.

“What’s your name?” I asked him.

“I’m Mateo with one T,” he put one finger up. “What’s- umm” he took a long pause for a second. “You?”

I laughed a bit. “I’m Charles.”

A big beep sounded and then the music at the store stopped.

“Mati come to the front please.”

“That’s me,” the kid said and then he left running. He stopped for a second and came back walking. “Goodbye.” He gave me a tiny wave and left walking again.

I felt my phone vibrate and when I took it out I saw a new message from Arthur

King Arthur: I think I just met the love of my life 🥴❤️

Me: 🤣🤣 in what? five minutes?

King Arthur: Sometimes you look at someone and you just know, brother.

Me: I know you are crazy 🤣🤣

————————————————————

👀👀👀🫣 I APOLOGIZE FOR MY LATE POST AHHHHH but how good was this?! I wanna hear your thought and theories!! What do you guys think is going to happen next? 👀👀

I’ll edit it properly later on after work, but here’s the chapter!!

I can only tag 50 people :( so the taglist for Una Noche En Monaco is closed 😭 I’m sorry 😭😭

@mac-daddy-210 @infinite-wanders @rbrsavage @itsyogurlkel @bbygrlllllll @nerdreader @imnotcryingyouare1 @killerangel88 @obx-mylove-things-blog @triorion @daniellarogers @insssanemind @bosinclairsgf @rb-danny @shyshva @booksobsess @ogfangirl @ravenqueen27 @masonspulisic @yunnie-f1 @simxican @ushygushybaby @graceverstappen11 @maximoff-xmen @severenswife @ferraribabe @pjofics @harrysdimple05 @mloyer @teti-menchon0604 @imagineadream @reidsworld @scentedskydreamer @christianpulisic10 @formulas-bitch @topguncultleader @hc-dutch @moonclaine @miureiz @tall-tanned-tattoo @madisontaxarn @bisexualbith @diasnohibng187 @im-just-here-toread @tyskills @rafaaoli @heavengirls111 @lighttsoutlewis @leclerc13 @c4ssi4-luv @livsans @ynbutbetter @marigoldgasly @vita-di-moda @sbrn0905 @yesshewrites1 @amsofftrack @fandomxs1 @ludmisorella @japanesekel @leclercsbae @padfootsiriusorionblackthethird @celestialams @dreamcarsound @bhiees @empathypostsf1

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takescrackseriously · 3 months ago

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Yandere Prospero!

He took me the longest, both in terms of planning and colouring.

His drawing is made up mainly of black so I had to use pen (at the time I made these I ran out of black paint). That's meant to be a skull mask in his hand. I drew it oddly. Not to mention the trouble I had with the colours. I already has Berenice for the red-black combo, so I used purple with Prospero's because in a panel with his spectre, purple was used somewhere.

In terms of personality for his yandere version, I'm still a bit loss. I feel like out of every single Nevermore character, he just isn't fit to be yandere. He isn't ever really shown to be immensely drawn to literally anyone.

Plus, he's aromantic. Now technically you could still write him being in a romantic relationship as long as you don't ignore his aromantism and personally I would love seeing more people explore more aromantic labels, it's interesting to read about. But another option is platonic yandere and those should also be explored more.

Okay, that's all for the yandere nevermore this time, I'll probably do more characters next year in April. Also, if anyone has any request for poorly done doodles of the yandere nevermores, please send requests.

Bye bye and please if you want to, write x readers, I need them :)

#nevermore webcomic #nevermore webtoon #edgar allen poe #nevermore #yandere nevermore #nevermore prospero #prospero nevermore #the masque of the red death #platonic yandere #yandere! prospero

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themulitipurposechannel · 3 months ago

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Fic: This is victory (hollow and cold).

Part: One

What if.. Mikey’s portal drags home a cold dead corpse.

I would like to preface this by saying I completely blame @goodlucktai for their amazing Incredible story, raised on little light for putting this idea into my head. Guys go check it out the fic, it’s amazing it makes me so so sad but there is also so many good things in it 😭. Personally speaking I don’t think there’s anything I can write that will ever come close to what Tai can do, but as a famous internet post once said, write your shitty pots. So here we goes ppl

Tw: major character death, grief, suicide idealisation, getting disowned, disassociation, starvation, slight description of injuries and inaccurate medical advice

But I promise, there is still hope even in this.

“Casey! When I get to the other side you close that portal!”

Everything stills. The world falls static.

“What..?” A foreign voice enters the fray. Ah. Cj thinks distantly. It’s mine.

A series of thoughts shoots through his mind. Faster than the battle drones Uncle Tello used to make, faster than the joy rides Uncle Mi used to give.

He sees empty eyes, forced smiles. Screaming voices stained with the weight only grief, hunger, thirst and stress can give.

He thinks of Michelangelo in the brief moments he has met the turtle, so bright and so energetic. And then he remembers his Uncle Mi twisted into something quiet, slow and outwardly peaceful.

He remembers Monty, so stoic and so very angry. Yet so very indulgent when it counts. Out in a blaze of guns and glory. Standard-issue shoulder pauldron shoved into shaking hands. You will do great things Princey. He remembers Monty’s mother. Whose name he never got, forever in a daze, staring at walls of nothing. A hallowed husk like so many of the living ghosts that wandered their dusty halls. He remembers Miwa. So tiny, so fragile. So young. Too young. No amount of their anything can ever replace or beat modern medicine.

His Uncle Tello, bitter, grumpy; burnt out and constantly overstimulated from the dirt covered and squishy pink hell they’ve found themselves in. But sometimes on better days he cocks his head to the side, with a face that almost smiles at Cj and says, “Come Jones Junior; I appear to have some scraps we need to dispose off.” Which is code for we’re going to give your Pa an aneurysm and make things go boom.

He remembers his family. Tired, thirsty, hungry, eyes on them constantly. Countless sleepless nights in hushed voices arguing, strategising, weeping. They thought he didn’t hear. But children always have the biggest ears and the longest standing shelter on earth is only so large.

First and foremost. Cj knows. He knows with heart wrenching certainty. If there was any way to make peace with the present Hamatos it would all be over now. They’ll hate him. They will. They will never forgive him for this.

Maybe if this was his Mom, his Auntie April, his Da-Uncle Mi, his Uncle Tello, his Grandpa Drax. Whatever else Master Raphael and Master splinter might have been to him. They might just forgive him but these people are not them. They have not been softened with a lifetime of knowing Cj. He doesn’t have that baby of the family privilege. He doesn’t have any privilege at all. It’s only been a day. Less than that technically.

Even just the thought of being hated by his family. Any version of them, curdles something in his core. Every fiber in his being lashes out and screams at the younger version of his sensei. (Oh but it was Leonardo wasn’t it? Oh, what has he done?) In ways he hasn’t done since he was 8 years old, because poor 8 year old Casey hadn’t quite figured out how to breathe through the hunger pains. I’m a healer. I’m supposed to stop these things. Please, I already let go before you can’t make me do this again-

“Leo no! There has to be another way!”

But this Leonardo says;

“We’ve tried everything Case, he’s too strong”

And deep down Cj knows that too. Much like the lies his family told him. “We can win” He knows otherwise too. Just like if he does this, he knows he’ll be left with nothing too.

But his family will still be here, surrounded by food, clean water, light, and endless amount of comics or magazines they could possibly want. They will be free.

They will never know gnawing hunger or sapping thirst, nor will they know the ever present hum of runhidenotsafe. They will never know the unique kind of suffering that comes from grasping for strength to just open your eyes and breathe in a world that has already long given up on itself.

Cj has seen the future. He has lived and breathed and sometimes, even thrived in an era where the krang came. Where the sky was a bloody brown instead of this clear dark blue and people were driven to insanity and killed from the common cold. Where the sour smell of rot piled everywhere. No matter how much or how hard you scrubbed.

He remembers his Sensei, his Pa, wise, comforting, always ready with a witty comeback or a brilliant plan. He remembers his Commander O’Neil, his Auntie April, rousing, quick and endlessly enduring, the steady voice of reason where even Sensei’s wit dulled. But they were tired, so very tired. The burden of leadership and grief and all the aches and pains of hunger and thirst that can never be quenched, already a fully dressed tomb just waiting for them to hang up their coats and admit futility to the unsurmountable cold.

He remembers how much his family loved him. How hard they tried to scrape together any piece of warmth for him. Tired Golden-Orange heaves himself into the air, to scoop Cj into his arms. Busy Blue who takes any meagre time he has to himself and spends it with Cj. Prickly Purple finds away to colour all his armour a shade of teal, even his siblings are still decked in occasional shades of grey. Overstretched Green always ready to pull her brothers back and scold; too guilty, too smothering, too harsh. Stop. You’re hurting the kid.

If Cj doesn’t close this portal, if he keeps this open, if he disobeys-the Krang will just come back through. And they will plunge the earth into a bloody, poisoned hell.

And he knows that if not Leonardo, then someone else in their stupid, selfless, self-sacrificial family will take up the mantle of resistance, unable to stand idly by at people’s suffering. Because these people are good, so very good. The Hamatos will fight, they will try. And they will lose.

The force of their ire will break him. The thought alone makes him sob, hiccuping in a way he hasn’t done, not since he was found shrieking over a cold Uncle Tello and had to be wrenched away, kicking and screaming. But still holding on. Even to the very last second and beyond. Because he is Cassandra Jones Junjor and a Hamato in every way that matters and he could never leave family behind. At least back then he couldn’t feel mom die

But the apocalypse.. that long, slow, painful march to inevitable death, will break him too. It wasn’t always bad, they had fun, karaoke nights, hilarious attempts to make birthday cakes for kids like him. But fuck.. that doesn’t change the fact that they still lost. That they will all still loose. Cj doesn’t know if he can willingly doom them all again because that’s what he’s going to do isn’t it? They were all so tired, so hungry, so thirsty. How can he let them go through that again?

He remembers how much happier, and how much lighter they always looked in those old scarce photos.

Selfishly, Cj doesn’t know if he can survive through another 20 something years or however long they make it this time, through that hell again. Forced to slowly watch again, as the Krang chip away at his family. Chip away at the people he called his friends till everything, bright, lively and kind was carved out;Uncle Hiro I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry-

They will never love you again. A voice thunders, like the death roll of their final march just this morning where Cj was still breathing in corrupted air under rusty skies. If only he died there with them. Anything is better than having to do this.

I know. Cj shakes, trembling fingers wrap around the key. Casey can see the division between young and new, old and worn and knows he cannot let it blur and become one.

“Casey! Urgh-please!”

Anything. I will give anything, Casey weeps. Anything as long as they live. Casey squeezes his eyes shut.

And just like with Uncle Tello,

Casey finally lets go.

The portal to the prison dimension slams shut with a glorious boom.

Leo, I love you. I’m sorry.

I wish I got more time to know you.

They scream at him. It’s Muffled, like the sensation of sound in the aftermath of a live grenade. They hurl all manner of abuse and venom at his face. He thinks he might be crying. Or maybe he’s not. His head feels tangled like the heaps of crusty old wires, Uncle Tello will never get the chance to unravel.

The shattered body of their Leonardo lies between them, like territory lines drawn between begrudging survivor groups. Cradled by a shaking soft shell. The blurry shapes of familiar voices once desperately calm and patient now roar,cutting and rightfully angry. It falls on his ears. He tries to grasp it, he does. He’s ruined everything, the least Cj can do now is listen.

But exhaustion gnaws at his very bones. Head pounding.

Nothing can explain this.

Nothing will justify this.

Severe head trauma, and shattered, collapsed carapace. Possible bruised and punctured lungs via pieces of loose carapace as the overall structure caved in, resulting in internal bleeding in the lungs and eventual asphyxiation. Patient chocked on his own blood. The field medic immediately drones internally, years of experience and training unable to be shut off (or rather, trained to never shut off) as listless eyes drift down to meet the unmoving slider.

It seems the one-sided eye contact is what finally breaks the softshell’s stupor. “Don’t you fucking dare.” The teen snarls, teeth flashing in all the ways he used to bare it at unwelcome visitors. But never at Casey. Never for long.

Wake up Jones. This is not your Uncle.

The rest of the group falls silent, shocked to see their previously silent family member speaking.

“You don’t get to look at him.” Achingly gentle, the purple branded softshell sets Leonardo onto the tiled floor.

Donatello stands. “You.” He hisses, pointing at Cj.

“You did this.”

Somewhere, somehow Cj manages to gather enough of himself to incline his head slightly in agreement. It’s the least he can do for them.

“Leave.” Donatello orders.

And like the good soldier he is, Cj does. Disappearing into the tunnels.

No one stops him.

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scoops-aboy86 · 20 days ago

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♠️♥️ again [sorry for basically flooding your inbox] but one more!

YouTube duo Steve and Eddie typically do challenges for views: Wearing only pink for a month, sneaking into festivals, pranks, etc. One day they put up a poll for their fans to decide their next challenge and the top option is: Eating fast food only for two months. All the money they make is donated, and they each will be logging any changes or affects throughout the challenge. Steve chooses Jack in the Box, Omega Burger, and Dairy Queen as his choices while Eddie chooses Jollibee, KFC, and Burger King.

Eddie's always had a fast metabolism so he's able to make it through the challenge with only an extra pound or five, but Steve not only wasn't gifted with a fast metabolism, but he's got a big appetite. First couple weeks go by and he's reported feeling a little heavy, his cheeks bloated from all the sodium while Eddie is feeling fine. By the end of month 1 they do a side by side comparison wearing the same clothes as when they started and it's no secret that Steve's struggling to keep his jeans zipped. Month 2 comes and goes and by the end of the challenge that boy is plump, doughy, and hooked on onion rings 🍔🍟🌭

Haha this ask is from April, oops. 2067 words!

“And that’s a wrap!” Eddie taps the touchpad on his laptop ending the recording, then swivels away from the filming setip with a huge grin. “We did it man, challenge complete!”

Steve gives a little whoop, then presses a fist briefly over his mouth to stifle a burp. His other hand drifts lazily down to his midriff, where his polo has ridden up over the course of filming. He hadn’t been allowed to pull it down while double-fisting the last treats of the two month ordeal they’d assigned themselves.

Well, not allowed was a bit of a stretch. It had technically been in the stated rules, but the truth was he’d never spared it a single thought, too consumed with consuming more.

He burps again as he rubs over his belly, and it tastes like onion rings.

“Do we have any more?” he whines. “I don’t feel full yet.”

Eddie, already halfway through downing a fresh water bottle to wash the grease from his own taste buds, pauses with his head cocked to one side. “Steve, buddy… the challenge is over. You don’t have to keep eating that shit.”

“It’s not shit, they’re good,” he protests. “I like the crunch and then how it’s soft, and kinda sweet.” Another burp escapes him, stomach gurgling, and he drops his head back on the couch with a groan. His greasy fingers paw at his belly where it’s already peaking out over the shorts he’s had to unbutton a while ago for the final push, soft flab springing and settling outside the body-warmed metal teeth of the spread zipper. “Mm, yeah that’s better…”

Seemingly oblivious to how Eddie is staring at him, he rubs both hands over his newly freed belly, squeezing and massaging over the hairy skin with a sigh, rubbing at his red stretch marks. Spreads his thicker thighs a little further so they don’t touch—a feat that’s been increasing steadily in difficulty for the past few weeks—so his paunch can hang a little freer. He doesn’t even seem to care that the shorts are tight over the tops of his thighs too, practically painted on where they ride up. In the back, if he were to stand up (something he hasn’t done for a few hours now), they barely contain the lower curves of his ass cheeks.

“We do have more,” Eddie admits slowly, eyes locked onto his friend’s hands and the way his belly bulges around where each finger pushes into the heavy mass, a layer of softness despite how overfed he is.

For the challenge, of course. It’s just for likes and attention. They do this shit all the time. Have done for longer than they’ve really been friends, ever since Henderson introduced them years ago…

“Bring it,” Steve demands, and Eddie is out of his chair before he’s even quite registered why.

He should start editing what they’d just filmed. There’s graphics and stats and sound effects to add, everything they’d half talked over beforehand, right up until Steve had gotten impatient and whined to be able to just start eating already.

Right up until Steve had gotten hungry.

There are two stages to it: the regular non-italicized kind, and then the kind that comes with special emphasis, not to be ignored. When the latter hits, Steve’s inner mean girl really comes out to play. Sometimes Eddie lets it, because he finds that side of Steve really entertaining. Right now, he just… wants to give those drooping hazel puppy dog eyes whatever they’ve set their sights on.

And that’s the last greasy bag from the diner down the street. Steve leans forward with a grunt to snatch it from Eddie’s outstretched hand, sets it on his distended belly like a makeshift table, and rips his way in. Moans a little in satisfaction as the first bite hits his tongue and he chews quickly, getting it down while already bringing another to his lips.

It had been like this when they’d started too, minus the obvious bloat and all the grease spots and crumbs adorning Steve’s rucked-up polo. Steve eats like he hasn’t seen food in days, which is absolutely not true. Now that Eddie thinks about it, he’s been going pretty much nonstop since their last filming a few days ago. Always with a snack or something to drink in one or both hands, always getting extra at meals, always suggesting dessert after dinner and lunch and, last Sunday, even after brunch. If Eddie thinks about it too much it makes his head spin a little too close to something he’s been avoiding for a while, when it comes to Steve—because things are good. They’re roommates and best friends (a title he’s content to share with Steve’s platonic other half, Robin, because she’s cool and a lesbian and puts up with Eddie’s gay dick jokes with a hilarious amount of exasperation that’s never not funny) and their YouTube channel on top of their day jobs earns them just enough to cover all the bills.

He’s just standing there watching as Steve continues to stuff himself, breath coming heavier and heavier because they’ve already been going for an hour—and that was on top of Steve’s penchant for inhaling a big breakfast every morning. It’s not just dedication to the bit, Eddie has come to realize.

Steve likes this.

Maybe it should have been a clue when Steve had suggested adding this particular challenge to the poll in the first place, but viewers always liked it when Steve ate weird shit on camera. So maybe Eddie was a little slow on the uptake, especially after the first time Steve had offered a belly rub to help him with the ache after their first round of way too much greasy food and then, once done, had flopped back and said a little too eagerly, Okay now my turn.

“Fuck, yeah,” Steve is panting now. “Feels… full. Getting there. How do… how do I look, Eds?”

Eddie’s mouth is suddenly dry. Maybe because it’s been hanging open for a minute. “Big,” he says simply. Dazed.

Steve shudders. “E-eddie, c’mere…” And flaps one onion-ring laden hand until Eddie gets with the program and comes closer. Closer. Until he’s bracketed by Steve’s knees, his friend laid out before him and still feeding himself while maneuvering him into place, then—

One of Steve’s legs hooks around and pulls Eddie forward so fast he stumbles, practically falls on the guy. The diner bag squished between their chests, jarred enough to spill some fried treats and a spray of crumbs over Steve’s shirt and collarbones and the little peak of chest hair at the bottom of the polo’s v. Knocking against Steve’s full belly, causing him to groan and belch right in Eddie’s face. That leg still there, rubbing against Eddie’s flat ass through his dark jeans that he still fits into just fine… but Steve had been doing a lot of eating that the challenge didn’t even call for on his own time, hadn’t he?

“Fuck,” Eddie gasps, giving in and plastering himself to his roommate, his best friend, his co-star. The guy who, on the surface, he has literally nothing in common with. Who Eddie has always found objectively attractive, and now that he’s writhing and panting and pushy underneath him Steve is somehow even more hot.

“Yeah,” Steve whines through a mouthful of more food. “Yeah, Eds, feels s-so good, get—” He wiggles his hips, weakly trying to press their cocks closer together, but his belly is in the way.

“Up,” Eddie growls, fingers curling under the waistband of Steve’s criminally tiny shorts that he’s fucking going commando underneath. “Let me up, Steve, so these can come off.”

The message gets across. Suddenly free, Eddie repositions himself and yanks hard on the shorts, dragging them from under Steve’s bubble ass and down his legs only to leave them dangling sluttily from one ankle.

Close enough.

Eddie leans down, caging Steve in, nipping hard at one of his earlobes. “This what you had in mind, your majesty?”

Even though Steve always complains about the King nickname from high school, back when they’d been passive enemies rather than friends, he doesn’t seem to mind it now. Just crams more in his mouth while nodding frantically, letting out a food-muffled, “Muh-huh!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Eddie spits in one palm and reaches down around the gut hanging in between them to take Steve in hand—and he’s already so slippery with precome that Eddie could’ve skipped a step there. “Thought I didn’t know you were sneaking snacks into your room?”

Steve gasps. “It, it was all fast food delivery, I didn’t break the rules, mmmh!”

Eddie had just cut him off by shoving the nearest hand with an onion ring into Steve’s open mouth, then covering it swiftly with his own. “Damn right you didn’t break the rules,” he growls, and has to hold back a groan as Steve bucks wildly up against him. Takes a second to rub Steve’s dick against his where it’s still trapped in his jeans, rough denim on fevered, throbbing skin. “I would’ve called you on it if you had. But the challenge is over now, sweetheart, so I have to wonder what wild hair got up his royal highness’s ass to make him feed himself til he’s bursting out of his own clothes. Are you that fucking greedy, Steve?”

That gets him a frantic nod, Steve’s pretty eyes rolled back in his head, working himself up to laboriously swallow behind Eddie’s hand now because he is stuffed, butting up against his limit and still trying to chew his way through it.

“Yeah, you are. Even looking like you do, that good boy smile that makes everybody swoon, playing it up on our channel because you just preen over the idea of all that attention… and you still want more eyes on you? Want more of you to put eyes on, get that attention by flaunting how you’re spilling out of what you’re wearing for everyone to gawk at? All it took was two months and already you’re so fucking big, even when you’re not shoveling more in. Fuck, I should’ve kept the camera on, you should get to see what you’re doing to yourself, gorging on shit you don’t need like a needy whore—”

Steve goes rigid, and comes.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie mutters, and yanks his hand off Steve to attack his own belt. Fucking—complicated—thing, he’s throwing it out after this, it takes so goddamn long to get his dick out and strip it with fingers still dripping with Steve’s pre, and reach his own peak. Strokes desperately with his head bowed in singular concentration while he adds to the mess on Steve’s heaving belly, the red stretch marks that he wants to lick, will as soon as he’s done milking white-hot pleasure out of his core that had been building without his realizing it for god only knows how long.

With an exhausted string of curses, he slumps to the side next to Steve, pressed against him on the couch. His dick twitches and slowly starts to go soft where it’s squeezed between Eddie’s body and Steve’s budding love handle, which surely the press of Eddie’s open jeans are going to leave indents in. Maybe if he’s lucky, Steve will let him kiss those soft marks before they disappear.

“I don’t think I could get up if I tried,” Steve whispers, sounding both spent and awed. “Eds. I think y’killed me.”

“No one’s going anywhere,” Eddie mumbles back, snuggling up. “You gotta digest, and then we’ll see about cleaning up this mess you made.”

Steve makes an indignant sound without bothering to open his eyes—Eddie knows, because he has one eye cracked open a sliver to check. (He also has a hand cupped over Steve’s gurgling middle, trying to gauge how long it might be before Steve wants more.)

“You helped,” Steve points out with a pout. “I couldn’t have done it without you. If I get fat, you helped. The way he says the words, it’s like he’s tasting them and finding he loves the flavor. Like he’s savoring it.

There’s still a ton of editing to do. That’s Eddie’s job. But… this can be just theirs a little longer.

The viewers can wait their fucking turn before they get their eyefull of Eddie’s guy.

Permanent tag list (ask to be added or removed): @hotluncheddie @hiei-harringtonmunson @sofadofax @victorclays @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

@ape31

#wg steddie #chubby steve harrington #scoops words #steddie modern au #ask #♠️♥️ anon

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nexility-sims · 1 year ago

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𝐍𝐎. 𝟐 ❛ 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 ❜ | DOWNTOWN NAKAWE, DEC. 1990

❧ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

❛ The last time all of Nakawe wept had been nearly fifteen years ago. Although many resented Mother Rowena before her death, mourning tended to cascade through the city. It swept even the most recalcitrant subjects into streets already flooded with their neighbors. They formed a white sea, dotted with colorful personal effects, carrying flowers, howling like storm wind, through which the funeral procession would float. That day in 1976 was recent enough that some felt themselves transported back. Arnaut and Matias had carried Rowena. They were paired, each clasping the other’s shoulder as they bore the weight. More grayed now, Matias struggled less then. Today’s chorus of haunting wails felt as familiar to them as the worn stones against their bare feet.

Leonor had been too young to appreciate death—what it meant that she would never again see the boisterous woman who smelled of cigarette smoke and smeared red lipstick on her face with exuberant kisses. She and Mateo stayed home with Rodrigo. Years later, she saw a photograph of her mother, limp and sobbing as Beatriz dragged her along in the procession. Anguish contorted her features in the moment it captured. Still, it was an expression Leonor recognized; she knew how distress reshaped Safya’s smile, dimmed her wide eyes, distorted the placid expanse of her brow. She recalled the image as her eyes trained on the hunched back of her mother’s body. In her periphery, she could also see Olalla and Blanca holding her grandmother. Beatriz departed the palace with squared shoulders and a calm demeanor, but now she could barely keep herself upright. The crowd’s sobbing receded, melting into an ambient hum around them. It was Beatriz’s desperate cries that pierced it. As she listened, wincing, Leonor wondered why she could not purge such ugliness from within herself.

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

❧ this scene has somehow been in the works, technically, since april of 2023—nine months since i started making poses, building the set, creating decos, messing with meshes and rage-quitting ... ! so glad it’s done :^)

TRANSCRIPT:

{Crowd sobbing}

{Mourners lamenting}

{Crowd continues crying}

{Beatriz wailing}

{Sobbing continues}

#ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.e02

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chuuyaspinkmotorcycle · 5 months ago

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Day 10: Gems/Crystals of @/Black00Cat’s (twt) SKKtober

“Only a diamond can polish a diamond.”

The first time Chuuya heard the Boss say that, he thought it was the dumbest thing ever, according to his fifteen-year-old intelligence.

The Boss’ saying was only logical, once he read a geology book, and he didn’t understand why the Boss told him that until years later.

Before that time would come, however, he was told by Ane-san about his birthstone: a diamond as well.

Cue his hyperfixation on gems, jewels, crystals – you name it – which led to him being the operations overseer of the jewel trade at age sixteen.

He’d gone on a deep-dive into birthstones at one point, finding out that April had not only diamonds, but also white quartz. Pretty cool, having two.

But then, once he found out Dazai’s birthday, he went down another rabbit-hole and June having three – pearls, moonstones, and alexandrite – is not fair at all.

But he digresses. Most of the information he learned in those early years of being in the mafia is still stuck in his head, engraved to the point that he can’t stop thinking about the significance of those gemstones.

Pearls are simple, a standard of wealth but also a call toward innocence and purity. His partner was never a saint by any means, but there were moments where Chuuya saw the little kid come out in him, heart alight as he beat Chuuya in a game or gushed about his newfound special interest.

Chuuya always found moonstones to be interesting – a symbol for love and passion yet was named that way for its resemblance to the moon. He can’t help but find that it still represents Dazai, though. Despite what the man believes about himself, he’s a light in the darkness to some, like Chuuya and that weretiger kid.

And, deep down, Chuuya believes Dazai has a passion for life. Ironic, he knows, but after seeing the man at his worst and the things he’s gone through to try to do good, he deserves some credit. In the mafia, Dazai’s need to die felt more like a cry for help to understand himself.

There were moments when Chuuya saw the light in his eyes as he talked about his favorite things. Dazai had been searching the mafia for the reason he was still passionate about the world despite its atrocities.

And, finally, there’s alexandrite – the perfect stone for the mystery that is Dazai Osamu. A soft yet vibrant green or blue in the light and a strong red or purple in the dark. It truly matches Dazai. The pendant around his neck now speaks for it, a symbol towards his goal to help others on the good side. No more is the teen dressed in black, eyes a wicked red as he sowed chaos. That darkness still lurks beneath, but Chuuya believes in Dazai.

—

Dazai, not one to be outdone in knowledge, had also done his research on birthstones after Chuuya blabbed about it one day.

That’s when he’d stumbled upon April’s two birthstones out of sheer coincidence. By this time, he’d already heard Mori’s diamond quote, and he can admit it did suit their duo well, but especially Chuuya. The redhead was brilliant from day one, a beacon of potential and worth. Perhaps Dazai’s always admired that about Chuuya.

And the second stone, a white quartz, also fit Chuuya very well. A symbol of strength – which, of course, Chuuya very much is – but also a stone to purify negative energy. Dazai doesn’t believe in the powers of gemstones but the white quartz does paint Chuuya’s vibe well.

Dazai could always count on Chuuya to clear the metaphorical clouds around him. Teasing the redhead always puts a positive spin on Dazai’s day, after all.

The white quartz is also called a moon quartz, and isn’t that just coincidentally strange that they technically both have moon-related gems in their birthstones?

He supposes they really could be one soul in two bodies, an inseparable bond that will never let them truly escape the other.

#soukoku #dazai x chuuya #skktober #skk #day 10 #malaikawrites

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ambrossart · 1 month ago

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I know this is so random but can we get fun facts about steph price ? I find her an interesting character even though I hate her sometimes (well a lot of times) but at the same time i feel sad how patrick treats her . He abandoned her at the theater for Evelyn and he probably even told her he wasn't interested in her at some point

To be honest, I don't have too much written down for Steph even though I greatly enjoy her character. Most of this is just off the top of my head.

If I had to choose a faceclaim, it would probably be Sydney Sweeney.

Steph has an older brother, who’s currently serving in the military. They aren’t terribly close, partly due to the large age gap between them, but mostly due to their contrasting personalities. Her brother is very quiet and reserved.

While she doesn’t live on West Broadway, she does come from a fairly wealthy family. They’re upper-middle class for sure.

Steph is spoiled by both her parents. She’s basically treated like their only child (another reason she and her brother aren’t close).

She has two very fluffy cats and hates dogs.

Steph is currently the only sophomore girl who has her driver’s license. She drives a 1985 Ford Escort.

Steph and April have been best friends since elementary school. Steph likes that April lets her call all the shots in their friendship. That’s probably why they’ve remained friends for so long.

Steph considers herself the prettiest and most popular girl in the sophomore class, but Mallory Stone is actually the most popular—and the prettiest (at least according to the sophomore boys). Steph barely cracks the top five.

Steph hates Mallory, but not as much as she hates Evelyn.

She’s hated that girl since the fifth grade. Even back then, Evelyn was always doing the absolute most. Chumming it up with the teachers. Asking question after question after question. And Steph would just sit there thinking, Oh my god, just shut up already!

Steph thinks Evelyn’s nice girl act is fake and performative.

Basically, everything about the girl just grates on her.

And the whole Patrick thing is just rubbing salt in the wound.

Make no mistake, Steph does not want Patrick to be her boyfriend. She just wants to sleep with him. 🤷‍♀️

She knows all about Patrick’s reputation. She knows that he flirts and sleeps around with a lot of different people. Whatever. He can do what he wants. Steph doesn’t care about that.

The problem is Patrick isn’t sleeping with her.

Yeah, Steph is still technically a virgin. She and Patrick have done other stuff (which she always has to initiate), but they’ve never gone all the way.

Steph has tried everything, made an absolute fool of herself, but Patrick just doesn’t seem interested, and Steph isn’t about to beg. Her ego would never allow her to do that.

So instead she takes him out, buys him stuff, shamelessly tries to seduce him, and still… nothing, absolutely nothing. It drives Steph crazy.

And now Patrick is going after Evelyn? Evelyn??? Evelyn????

The girl has zero sex appeal. Make it make sense!

But she’s not jealous.

Yeah, she’s not jealous at all.

#sure steph sure #answered asks #thanks for the ask!#paper men #ambrossart

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thebibliomancer · 5 days ago

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Essential Avengers: West Coast Avengers #69: GRUDGE MATCH!

April, 1991

HAWKEYE Vs. the U.S. AGENT!

I guess it's been long enough for Hawkeye to get his ass kicked by US Agent again without it getting repetitive?

So, last times: Ultron had a plan to turn humanity into robots. But the Avengers West Coast thwarted it. Specifically, Wonder Man and Hawkeye. The other Avengers were just kinda fighting Rose Parade float robots.

And now that arc is done? Well... the Avengers West Coast book has to play catch-up to the east coast team.

But also, Hawkeye and US Agent going to punch each other because that's how they deal with feelings. Specifically, the feelings of dislike.

Is this Hawkeye's new outfit? I'd punch him, too, if he showed up dressed like that.

Okay, apparently it's new battle armor. Still looks dumb.

And just in case people were wondering, Hawkeye confirms that his bad case of being partially roboticized has been cleared up by Hank Pym.

He's here to kick US Agent's ass and US Agent allows the use of battle armor because he gets to use his shield.

Sure!

The two start fighting.

See?

US Agent has super-soldier powers so he has the stat edge but Hawkeye's quiver of mystery keeps the Agent on his toes, trying to guess what each arrow will do.

But how did we get here? Well, the book cuts back and forth between two narratives. The Hawkeye vs US Agent fight, 'natch. And what led to it.

APPARENTLY, I guessed wrong when I theorized that it was only the East Coast Avengers who were cut loose by the government, leaving the West Coast team as the officially, government-recognized team.

Oh, no. The WCA just had to catch up. They're also part of the UN agreement.

So after the Ultron thing, Avengers West also has to choose a new seven member roster and seven reservists.

The Avengers (West) have decided to vote on who will be on the team.

Also, Mockingbird is here.

Hawkeye criticizes her for trying to sneak back onto the team but she very rightly points out that if she is, its the same thing he already did.

Anyway, unlike the Avengers East whose roster barely changed when they reorganized, I'm sure there will be big changes here with Avengers West. There's several people hanging around who may or may not be on the team. Where the fuck is the robot Human Torch, for example?

Joined the team to big fanfare and then basically did nothing. Quicksilver may as well be on the team since he's been hanging around since the Darker Than Scarlet thing. Is Hawkeye on the team? He quit in a huff and he wasn't technically reinstated because there was no team leader to extend the offer. And so on. The Avengers West Coast are a mess.

Although...

Look at this transmission from the New York team:

Scarlet Witch is both in New York and in California. And Nomad is with the Avengers East. Probably was supposed to be Quasar but that's definitely a Nomad. What's going on with you, the Avengers?

Anyway, US Agent hasn't heard that the government was dumping the Avengers. So he's smugly certain that his place on the roster is assured.

Until General Hayworth shows up on the video from the Avengers with a very special message for US Agent.

Basically 'thanks for everything, Agent -- and good luck!'

The Avengers are the UN's problem now so the US government is not going to exert any pressure on US Agent's behalf. Its up to the Avengers whether or not they want US Agent on the team.

US Agent: "I've been stabbed in the back!"

I mean.... The Avengers criticize him for this sentiment but, yeah, kinda. The government kinda hung Agent out to dry. He was on the Avengers as an assignment from the government. They're not reassigning him. They just fired him. Publicly. Over a pre-recorded message.

US Agent is a dick but still. That sucks.

But the Avengers aren't really sympathetic.

Wonder Man: "As of today, you'll be an Avenger -- or an ex-Avenger -- on your own merits, and nothing else. If that's not good enough for you, you can walk right now. Got it?" US Agent: "I... got it."

And the results of that vote? Each current regular had to vote for five people. The top seven becomes the new team. The next seven becomes the reservists.

Hawkeye got four votes. Mockingbird got one, which she assumes was from Hawkeye. Tigra got four votes. Scarlet Witch and Wonder Man each got five votes. Quicksilver got two votes. Iron Man got five votes. US Agent only got one. Hank Pym and Wasp each got five votes. Robot Human Torch got three votes. And, somehow, Machine Man got one vote.

Which makes the new roster: Iron Man, Wonder Man, Scarlet Witch, Tigra, Hawkeye, the Wasp, and Dr Pym.

The reservists are Mockingbird, Quicksilver, US Agent, robot Human Torch, and Machine Man. So they need to find two more reservists.

Hm, so the new roster is... basically the old roster. That's boring.

Oh, but Wasp and Dr Pym announce that they're going to resign as active Avengers! Good job shaking things up, you two!

They probably should have mentioned before the vote but... whoops!

Hawkeye also needles US Agent mercilessly here. Snarking that he knows who was the only person who voted for US Agent and mocking him that if Quicksilver, Human Torch, Mockingbird, and some random robot man all die, maybe US Agent has hope of getting back on the Avengers.

US Agent is not happy with this. He's not happy with Hawkeye, he's not happy with how the government screwed him, he's not happy that nobody likes him, and he's not happy that Iron Man tells him MAYBE if he cleans up his act, he can be an Avenger again.

US Agent: "'Alternate'? You can shove 'alternate'! I'm out of this gang of losers -- as of now! If you deadheads were too stupid to vote for a real patriot when you had the chance -- I'm sure not going to wait around for the phone to ring. Don't call me -- and I won't call you!"

And he storms out.

The meeting wraps up not long after that and everybody moves out into the courtyard to chit chat.

Apparently, Scarlet Witch was one of the votes Quicksilver got, even though he asked her not to. Wonder who the other vote came from?

And Mockingbird thanks Hawkeye for the one vote she got but he scoffs.

Hawkeye: "Last thing in the world I want is my estranged wife sitting across from me at every meeting! I mean, I still love you and all -- but get real!" Mockingbird: "And you can get stuffed! You've got my phone number in Detroit, right?" Hawkeye: "Yeah, sure..." Mockingbird: "Well, lose it!"

You gotta feel sorry about Mockingbird. She's only in Detroit at all because Hawkeye had the idea to take over the Great Lakes Avengers. And then he got bored and ditched the team to go hang out with the Avengers West Coast until they let him back in.

She's basically left picking up the slack that he left. And his response to that is 'I can't stand to be in the same room as you.'

Speaking of defunct romances, Wonder Man tells Scarlet Witch that he's booked a table for the two of them at Spago's.

Scarlet Witch: "I'm sorry, Simon. I -- I've been meaning to tell you... I don't think we should -- well, date anymore."

She likes him as a friend and his friendship has helped her get through all the turmoil lately. But she just doesn't love him the same way.

Wonder Man tries to take the rejection gracefully. But there's only so graceful that you can take a rejection when your reaction is to fly away from the scene as quickly as possible.

Wanda sadly goes over to bask in Hank and Jan's functional relationship. Because, dangit, she wants to believe that superheroes can have those!

And, whoops, Hank and Jan clarify that they're not leaving the Avengers to spend more time together.

Wasp: "We took stock, and we decided we like each other as much as we ever did -- maybe more -- but that romance, let along re-marrying just isn't in the cards. So we're going our separate ways."

Jan is going to travel, maybe head back to New York eventually. Hank is going to do research. His first love, according to Hank.

... My god! It's a full on snap-back!

I thought the Thomases were going to Yes And the plot threads Byrne left. Just roll with them. And that seemed the case. Wonder Man and Scarlet Witch still seemed like they were headed into a romance. Hank and Jan were together again.

But the Thomases were just waiting to reverse a bunch of stuff! Wanda and Wonder have broken up. Hank and Jan have broken up! Wasp who just kinda joined the team over a time-skip is leaving the team! US Agent is getting kicked off the team and Hawkeye being put back on the team!

If only Vision was still on the Avengers West, maybe the Thomases would fix him, too!

I feel a bit of a hypocrite. Rampant snapback is one of my least favorite things in comics. But also the relationship things getting reversed... weren't my favorite developments.

I can take or leave US Agent and Hawkeye.

Although the funny thing there is that Byrne did not particularly want to write US Agent either. Gruenwald asked him to put US Agent on the West team and Quasar on the East. Which is probably why US Agent's early tenure on the team had him just not around a lot.

Anyway, speaking of the guy, US Agent shows up and challenges Hawkeye to a rousing round of beating the shit out of each other because they are manly men with a grudge and US Agent doesn't want to leave the Avengers with regrets.

The two agree to meet in half an hour near Portugese Bend.

And that's how we got to the two punching each other.

During the fight, Hawkeye has been trying to keep US Agent guessing which arrows he's using because his strategy for the fight is to get the Agent's shield away from him.

But US Agent manages to snatch it back from a grabber arrow and then tosses an explosive arrow back at Hawkeye, exploding the ground at his feet.

The explosion knocks Hawkeye on his ass but his new battle armor holds.

US Agent asks Hawkeye what they do now. As in, dude, do you really want more of this?

Hawkeye: "We -- keep at it -- til they bring a stretcher for one of us -- maybe both of us!"

Wow. Rare situation where US Agent is the reasonable person in the room. Or the outdoors area, anyway.

US Agent calls Hawkeye an idiot, that this fight isn't going to go well for Hawkeye. Agent has Actual Superpowers. He's not peak human like Captain America. He can bench press ten tons. If he actually punches Hawkeye in the face without holding back, Hawkeye won't have much of a face.

US Agent is also now realizing that this fight was a bad idea. He claims not to be a sadist, so he doesn't actually want to escalate things beyond this point. He tells Hawkeye to just let things end here.

Or, rather, to walk away. Which does move things from 'this is dumb, lets both stop' to 'YOU give up. You.'

Hawkeye: "You've said your piece? Okay, then I'll say mine. You keep yappin' about Cap... Well, maybe Steve Rogers can't juggle elephants, but he's still worth a hundred of you. I understand you -- because I used to be a lot like you. Who knows? Maybe, deep down, I still am. We both started out as bad seeds -- but at least I was honest about it. I didn't hire a bunch of 'Bold Urban Commandos' I could beat up on, just to make me look good. You've been a louse right from the start, Agent -- and I'm not wastin' another arrow on you!"

Which, no, doesn't mean he's agreeing to end the fight. Which is what US Agent initially interprets it as.

It means that he's throwing down his bow and his quiver and taking off the armored helmet and gloves and he's going to try to fisticuffs the man who can bench 10 tons.

Hawkeye has had better ideas.

US Agent goes looking in the shrubbery to find Hawkeye, who jumps out and jump kicks Captain Palette Swap. And then he starts punching the Agent in the head.

Hawkeye: "You think -- you're such hot spit -- 'cause you got a good deal -- at a super-powers sale -- and hired that Taskmaster creep -- to teach you how to fight -- Well -- some of us were fighting the bad guys -- while you were still running around barefoot -- all over Custer's Grove, Georgia!"

US Agent catches Hawkeye's fist and tosses him away.

US Agent: "In case nobody ever told you before, fella -- you've been fighting out of your league all these years -- and it's high time somebody straightened you out!"

Problem: they were closer to the cliff edge than US Agent thought so he just threw Hawkeye off of the cliff.

Even though Hawkeye threw away his bow and arrows, he has a few spare arrowheads stored in the armor harness. He uses a grappling hook to grab a tree but the tree rips out of the cliff edge and Hawkeye hits the beach hard.

US Agent comes down in a panic to make sure Hawkeye is okay but Hawkeye just keeps throwing punches.

And an enraged US Agent is now no longer worried that Hawkeye may have gotten seriously hurt. So he starts swinging back.

US Agent, punching Hawkeye repeatedly: "You don't even know when you're licked! Why don't you just --" Hawkeye: "Why - why don't you -- g-go sit on it -- ?!" US Agent: "I've had it with you, archer -- you and all your holier-than-thou Avenger buddies! You've all been against me -- ever since day one -- and I'm good and sick of it, do you hear me? Good and sick!"

He at least pulls his punches so he doesn't break all of Hawkeye's bones. That's... almost like restraint. Real restraint would probably have been walking away at some point. But neither of these idiots is capable of it.

Case in point, US Agent pulls Hawkeye out of the ocean and Hawkeye throws another punch.

So US Agent kicks his ass some more.

And now that Hawkeye is well and truly unable to foolishly continue the fight, US Agent decides to drag him out of the water, leave him on the beach, and fuck off.

It's now - that the fight is already over - that the Avengers show up to interrupt the fight. Iron Man even blasts a warning shot at US Agent and tells him to take his hands off Hawkeye.

US Agent tells them to butt out of his grudge match because its none of their business. But Wasp declares it is Avengers business.

For one thing, Hawkeye is now on probation for being a prideful idiot. And US Agent can forget about ever being an Avenger again.

-looks ahead in time- Hah.

US Agent has already gotten his angst out over not making the cut so he's not growling or screaming or punching over being told he's preemptively unininvited.

But Iron Man, as clearly a new member of the Avengers who has an unbiased perspective of this, cough, has something he wants to say to the Agent.

(Yes, Iron Man is still pretending he's not Tony and everyone is still rolling their eyes whenever he does.)

Iron Man: "Since I rejoined after you came, I think I'm in a position to say they gave you every break. Hawkeye can be a hothead, sure -- but at least he earned his right to be an Avengers, years ago. What did you ever earn, Agent? Nobody here denies your courage, but you bought your super-powers -- then got yourself force-fed down their craw. This is a team -- and you've been a grandstander -- a troublemaker -- ever since you came aboard. Maybe, if we were convinced you could change -- that you'd ever become a real part of the team, instead of a loose cannon -- ! What do you say, Agent? Does anything of what I just said make any sense to you?"

Yeah, he's unmoved. Unrepentant. Unreflective.

And Hank Pym snarks that the Avengers West are now three short of a full reserve team.

Hawkeye is fine, by the way. Fine-ish. Able to get up on wobbly legs and try to re-start the fight again, like an idiot.

Hank has to tell him to simmer down and Hawkeye admits that, yeah, he's been acting like an idiot.

Scarlet Witch decides to close things out with one of those classic 'but what if x goes bad, could we ever hope to stop x?' fearmongering things that superheroes love to agonize over, for the dramas.

Scarlet Witch: "What worries me is U.S. Agent. I pray that being bounced doesn't turn him against more than just the Avengers West. Men like him live close to the edge -- and if he ever turned bad -- it would take every ounce of power we could muster to stop him!"

Uh... no? I think between Iron Man, Wonder Man, Scarlet Witch, and Hank 'shrinking things makes my problems smaller' Pym, you have a lot of ways to easily deal with a rogue US Agent.

Stop sensationalizing, Wanda.

There is an epilogue. Although, epilogues are usually meant to comment or close out whatever happened. This is more foreshadowing a future plot.

A cybernetic man called Jawbreaker jumps off a boat docked at Los Angeles harbor so customs won't search the chest he's carrying.

He's intercepted by a very Japanese man called Taifu, who wants the chest.

Jawbreaker refuses so Taifu shows him why they call him Taifu.

It's because Taifu means Typhoon. So Taifu blasts winds out of his big sleeves and slams Jawbreaker against a nearby warehouse wall.

But he's then cold-cocked by an invisible woman (note the lack of capitals) who calls herself Kuroko or the Black One.

Because she's dressed as one of those kabuki stagehands that maybe inspired the look of ninja.

Kind of a funny gag. She has invisibility powers so she dresses as a stagehand which are invisible to the audience.

She tells Jawbreaker that the doctor sent her and since Jawbreaker is also working for the doctor, that eases his suspicions.

He picks up the chest and Taifu and the two head off towards the next issue.

Kuroko: "All that matters is that what is within that trunk -- will soon make us masters first of the Pacific Rim -- and one day of all the world!"

All three of these characters are newly introduced, by the by. Jawbreaker, Taifu, and Kuroko.

The new arc is coming and we've already got enemy in-fighting. That's record speed.

But most importantly of all, this is issue 69 which is the funny sex number. Haha, Avengers West Coast 69.

Follow @essential-avengers because I was able to wait the entire post before commenting on the issue number. Like and reblog and comment and print out this post and put it under your furniture for the Borrowers to read.

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