#awww Michael what a lad

[monicaalexandraaa]

This is such a movie !!!!!! I’m obsessed. I love it all.🤩🤩🤭🤭🩷🩷

Pucking Rookie II

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8k words

From me: sloooooowwwwww burrrrrrrnnnnnnnn

Warnings: angsty, fluffy, douchey ex-boyfriend, a little violent

Summary: Harry is one of the most annoying people she's ever met. It's unfair he's talented, hot, and way nicer than her ex.

“So getting to the side of the ice before the puck is there is offsides?” Marc asked.

She nodded watching the Warriors center faceoff against the Bears on her TV screen. They were in the third period with only five minutes to go and the defenseman from the Bears was in the penalty box for a foul against the center. She thought it was a death sentence. “Correct.”

“They have that in other sports,” he sounded like a child remembering a fact from preschool. She smirked.

“Yes,” she laughed. “Are you sure you want to date this guy?”

“I want to date his dick,” Marc shrugged. She snorted and shook her head.

“Fair enough.”

Her phone lit with a message from Kael. He wanted to see her when she was in town with The Chargers. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but it would have been nice to get some of her stuff back. If he kept it.

“Are you speaking to Harry again?” Marc asked.

It was impossible to keep the smile from growing on her face. She rubbed a hand over her mouth to hide it. “Yeah...” she nodded. “It’s kind of hard not to talk to anyone on the team.”

“The fact you went a whole week without talking to that hot as hell man is beyond me. You’re a better woman than me.”

She snorted. They were coming down to the final two minutes and the goalie skated to the bench and another player glided across the ice. “So, when the team is down by a goal or two, they send the goalie off the ice so they can get another scorer in position. But it leaves the goal open. It’s risky.”

“You are seriously doing that team a disservice by not dating them,” he murmured. “If I was into women I wouldn’t let you out in public. You’re so perfect.”

She laughed. “I am not perfect.”

“Babe, you are stunning, you know hockey, and you make the best cookies I’ve ever tasted.”

“It’s not enough,” she told him sipping her water and standing up. But sure enough, The Warriors scored without their goalie in the next. She had to get to the rink for the night game. She smirked, wiggled eyebrows at Marc, and turned off her TV.

“You should bet money on these things.”

She put on her regular outfit for a night of taking pictures at the rink. Her hands had to be free (and yes, they would freeze) but she wore a thick sweatshirt below the jersey. It had Niall’s name on the back. She figured he was the least likely to make a big deal of wearing someone’s name on her back. She honestly hoped no one noticed that she picked it. She didn’t want to make it seem like she had a favorite on the team. Because she didn’t. And it definitely wasn’t Harry Styles.  

Truthfully, she stole Niall’s old jersey out of the bin in the locker room. It got ripped in a game where someone got a little too irritated with Niall’s good goal tending. There was a significant tear along the seam because Harry was the first one to get to Niall when the incident occurred. Harry accidentally tore at it while trying to get his hands on the opponent and wound up in the penalty box for two minutes because of it.

She spent part of the following evening sewing it carefully back together while watching a movie on Netflix.

Once her winter boots were on, she slipped her camera bag and press pass over her shoulder and neck respectively. She was ready for the evening. Marc walked her down to her car. They both waved at Michael who was pacing outside while smoking a cigarette. “Hey Sweetheart,” he called. Michael was about five years younger than her and way too grumpy for his own good. But he often perked up on her behalf. “Good luck to the team.”

“Thanks!” She smiled as if she had any responsibility for how well they did.

Marc made sure she got in the car safely and winced when her car took two turns to start because of the cold. Once assured her car would remain running, Marc went to Michael’s side and bummed a cigarette from him as she pulled out of the lot in front of the building. What a weird little family she was creating in a weird part of town.

Her car seemed angry that it was being asked to do its job, and she worried that one day it was going to die on her way there. If it did, she was nervous it would be a thing and Uncle Charlie would be pissed. She could see it now. But instead, she listened to her music, stopped to splurge for a coffee made by someone else, and headed to the rink.

At the very least, she was happier than she had been in a very long time. There was no weight around her worrying she wasn’t the perfect girlfriend, the perfect arm candy for her hockey boyfriend. She didn’t worry about looking weird or awkward. She felt more like herself behind the lens, at the rink, and at The Locker Room, and at her apartment with her new friends than she had in years.

Maybe she didn’t need any of her stuff back from Kael. If she never spoke to him again, then she would be okay.

*

“Niall you lucky motherfucker!” Asher yelled.

She wasn’t paying much attention as the boys finally arrived for their game. She was in the middle of a conversation with Uncle Charlie as she went over the pictures she was planning to submit to the news outlets, looking over the tiny screen in her hands. She showed off her non-athletic photography skills. This included the senior pictures she took of her cousin (Charlie’s daughter), and she told him which ones she thought were best. This naturally led to discussing the holidays. Her hope was he was willing to carpool to her parents’ house. It was selfish, mainly because she didn’t think her car would make it the three-hour drive out of the city. Not that she was going to tell him that.

But the boys interrupted before she could get that far. She turned, smiled brightly at her team of restless twenty-something-year-old puppies. She set her coffee on the ledge of the window of an office for one of the team assistants and gave the boys a proper wave. “Are you all ready for gameday?” She asked.

But no one was paying any attention to her greeting. Instead, their gazes were focused on the number on her body. The black-and-silver-lettering and logo was riveting it seemed even though it was on all their own jerseys as well.

So much for it not being a thing. “Sweetheart, I’m honored,” Niall chuckled. Were his cheeks pink in embarrassment? That was cute—he looked so nervous. Niall was adorable. She could see why Harry was so protective of him. In the time she had gotten to know him, she seriously didn’t know how someone so sweet and nice could be roped into a rough and tumble sport like hockey.

“What?” She asked curiously, hoping that if she acted confused, they wouldn’t make it a bigger deal than it needed to be.

It seemed there was little chance of such a thing. “You’re wearing my jersey,” his grin remained shy and so, so adorable.

Well, maybe she could use it to her advantage. “Well, don’t tell the others but you’re my favorite,” she winked.

But it wasn’t quiet and everyone heard it. The gasps and scoffs of disbelief echoed loudly as they entered the locker room to drop some of their stuff. First there would be game day entrance photos, the boys looking dressed in not quite formal but not so casual attire. The stuff that made hearts throb to look at them (and other organs throb if she was honest). They would pose as if they hadn’t already walked in, and no one would know except for them.

Niall turned a shade redder and headed in. “Don’t break my goalie,” Charlie warned.

“I would never break Niall!” She pouted petulantly at her uncle. “Why are they all up and arms about the jersey? It was free and I fixed it. Is it not allowed?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Sweetheart,” he chuckled. “It’s just a dumb hockey-guy thing,” he patted her on the back and headed into the locker room.

“Harry’s running late,” Lang said as he returned with just a duffle bag and an overpriced water bottle that was part of his sponsorship deal. “Hit some traffic or something. So, you might not get his game day entrance,” he told her with a shrug.

She nodded. “That’s fine,” she shrugged and snapped a picture of him while he wasn’t really focused, testing the lighting and frame once more now that she had a subject. “There’s enough of you guys to suffice as eye candy for the day we probably won’t need everyone’s picture.”

Lang laughed, covering his mouth. “Sweetheart, please say that in front of Harry while I’m around and you’re wearing that jersey,” he begged. She frowned unsure what he meant by that specifically. Instead, she shook her head and began ordering the captain and his teammates around to get the first part of her evening’s tasks done.

*

Harry showed up just as she took the last shot of the team walking into the locker room. He was pouring the last bit of his protein shake into his mouth while she examined her camera once more and sipped her coffee that she left on the ledge of the window. There was so much more activity back by the locker room as game time approached. There were team doctors, athletic trainers, assistants, and more milling around.

Harry hated being late. It messed with his pre-game rituals. But there wasn’t anything he could do about traffic. Plus, Hayden lived on the exact opposite side of the city. He really shouldn’t have bothered with trying to sneak a quick hook-up in before the game. But he needed something to take the edge off and nothing was working.

Granted the hook-up left him feeling unsatisfied as well. Although it wasn’t Hayden’s fault. She was lovely, truly. It was all Harry’s brain. Something was off and he couldn’t quite place it.

But one look at the pretty photographer wearing the number thirty-one on her body reminded him that he was much more aware of the issue than he was willing to admit. He blinked hoping his eyes were mistaken. But no, the name Horan was on her back.

“Rookie!” He called.

What the fuck was he going to say? It didn’t even make sense for him to be mad. She didn’t do anything wrong. God, Harry was an idiot. She was off limits. For all he knew she had one of everyone’s jersey and was going to rotate through.

It was probably not a good sign that she looked up when she heard that nickname, right? It wasn’t good to get used to knowing it was Harry calling her the moment she heard his teasing. But right then, Harry didn’t look teasing. His gaze was laser-focused on her torso (and not the way she would expect him to be focused on her chest). “Hi Harry,” she smiled, sweetly; hoping vehemently that this wasn’t about the jersey. “Do you want a game day photo?” She asked gently holding her camera up.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” He snapped.

This hoping thing ain’t shit. She thought. Glancing down at her outfit once more, she frowned. “I thought I looked cute,” she pouted.

Harry was all but half a foot in front of her. “You’re wearing Niall’s jersey.”

“It’s from the locker room, it was going to get thrown out, so I just sewed it,” she shrugged. “Is that not allowed? No one said anything.”

He seemed to bristle but settled at the same time. She really didn’t get what the big deal was. “S’fine,” he grumbled. “Y’do look cute. You always look cute,” he rolled his eyes and pushed the locker room door open with a little too much power. She shook her head and heard laughter from behind the door.

“Boys are weird,” she sighed and headed for the tunnel to get to the ice.

*

She texted Michael from her car when she got back to the apartment at one in the morning. It was dark, cold, and she had a weird feeling as she pulled into the small lot. He hurried out yawning as he did. He was wearing only shorts, a t-shirt, and slippers. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she frowned and hurried to the front of the building. He waited patiently for her to lock her car.

“S’fine, Sweetheart,” he shrugged and yawned.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. She really needed to find a new place, so she didn’t have to bother them. But she swore she could feel someone’s eyes following her as she closed the entry door to her building. Michael headed down the first-floor hall to his place without another word. She stopped at her small little mailbox, locked on the inside. Only a slit in the wall from the outside to get in. It was all junk and bills. She didn’t give her address to anyone. Not even Uncle Charlie had her real address. She mentioned some apartment complex on the good side of town. But when pressed, she immediately diverted and asked if he would be okay with shipping her Amazon packages to his house. It did the trick, fortunately. Her parents didn’t think much of it either because they knew Charlie was keeping an eye on her.

It was all she could afford after not working much because of Kael and his weird obsession with making sure she played the proper part of picture-perfect hockey girlfriend. This was a sketchy part of town, and she knew it and didn’t like living here either. But what could she really do? Making friends with Michael and Marc was easy and she was lucky. So very lucky to have people keep an eye out for her when she got home late and felt like she was being followed.

So, when she turned to the stairwell behind the little mail room and saw the very angry hockey player outside the door of her building peering through the glass, she practically jumped back a foot and immediately and nearly screamed.

She clamped a hand over her mouth and pressed the other one to her heart, dropping her mail in the process. “What the fuck are you doing?!” She whisper-screamed opening the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Harry hissed stepping inside. He gathered up her mail handing it to her. He continued glaring as he took in the run-down place. “Do you live here?”

“Yes!”

“Rookie, this is not a safe area. Why are y’living here?”

“Because I can afford it? What kind of fucking question is that?”

Harry looked so good having just played a grueling game that included overtime and a shootout. His hair was still damp from his shower. His face glowing that way he managed to do in the dead of winter that was so unfair to her. He smelled good—too good. He wore a black hoodie, black pants, and black sneakers. Like he was trying to blend in with the night. The only not good-looking thing about him at the moment was the sour expression on his otherwise extremely pretty features. The furrow between his eyebrows looked angry. The green of his eyes appeared darker, almost black to match his clothes. His mouth was pressed in a flat line.

But even angry, Harry looked hot. He had been angry all evening. Since he set foot in the arena. He didn’t relax when they all went to The Locker Room either. He hardly spoke to Niall and barely acknowledged his good goal tending. “Does coach know you live here?”

She shook her head. “Harry, shut the fuck up. Why did you follow me home like a creep!?”

“Because s’one in the morning and y’said y’were exhausted and that your car was a piece of shit! I was making sure y’made it home. I didn’t know home was even scarier!”

“Hey babe, everything alright? Michael texted you would be on your way up and to keep an ear out.” Marc called as he approached them descending the stairs.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she whispered and rubbed her temples.

“Holy shit,” Marc gaped.

“Harry, this is Marc,” she introduced the pair, but lacked any enthusiasm. “He’s my neighbor.”

Harry glared at him—even though he didn’t deserve it. “Hi,” he said curtly.

“I’m fine,” she told Marc. “Harry followed me home.”

“Great game today, man,” he looked awestruck; no longer concerned about her well-being at all and entirely concerned about the beautiful man in front of him. “That was a bogus penalty in the second period.”

“I said the same thing,” she nodded in agreement hoping it would remind Harry that she made her own little place here and he didn’t need to worry. That he was her friend.

Harry softened just a little. His shoulders untensed ever so slightly. “Thanks,” he nodded curtly, trying to remain polite to a fan when he wanted to shake the sweet photographer. “Rookie, show me your place,” he ordered.

“Michael and I keep an eye on her,” Marc offered sensing there was a deeper issue.

Harry eyed him up and down and then turned back to her. “Show me your place,” he repeated.

“No!”

“Jesus, babe, show the hot man your apartment!”

She pressed her fingers to her forehead and slid them down her nose and over her lips as she spoke. “Marc,” she sighed. “Go away.”

“Huge fan,” he held his hands up in surrender and made his way upstairs.

Harry was staring at her in disbelief. “You’re not living here.”

“Harry,” she sighed.

“I’ve had a shit day, Rookie. Don’t fucking test it,” he snapped and headed up the stairs figuring he would find it on his own because he would just know? She shook her head.

“Third floor,” she mumbled following behind him. He sighed with relief from ahead of her.

“Take that stupid fucking shirt off,” he said once the door was shut.

“Why are you so angry today?” She shed her camera carefully setting it on the small table. Then her badge. She dropped her keys on the table too. Quickly, before he could get angrier, she rid herself of the jersey and her hoodie.

Harry sighed again, relieved it seemed of what she didn’t know. Without broiling in irritation over his friend’s name all over the girl he had a massive crush on, he was able to focus a little more. Glancing around he inspected the small place. It was cute, adorable even. Just like her.

She bent to take her shoes off. “Do you want water or something? You’re so keyed up... Maybe you want a sedative?” She rolled her eyes at him.

He snorted. “Pass,” he continued looking around. “S’nice, really,” he murmured

“It is,” she agreed. “I don’t plan on staying here forever, but it’s what’s affordable right now. Not all of us make seven figures a year for their talent.”

He ignored her and wandered around the little rooms she had. On all of her walls were more photos she had clearly taken. It didn’t take much for him to figure out her style. It was natural and lovely. “S’cold in here.”

“Heat’s expensive,” she remarked. “Do you want some tea?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No, thank you, Rookie,” he mumbled relaxing more as he inhaled deeply. Everything was so intoxicatingly her in this room. It smelled so good. She smelled so good. “Is Marc in love with you?” He asked offhandedly.

“Not unless I identify as a man, which I don’t.”

He smirked, unable to hide the amusement. She was so funny, it was unfair. Beautiful, talented, kind, and funny. She was made in a lab and meant to tempt every one of Harry’s desires. “What ‘bout the guy that walked y’in?” He picked up the book that was on her coffee table and read the back of it, wondering what kind of books she was into and if she liked the same things as him. He set the book down carefully.

“Michael? No. He’s a baby.”

“He’s taller than you,” he murmured.

“He’s not in love with me. Well, actually, I do make him cookies. So maybe,” she shrugged.

He shook his head wishing he could focus on his own questions. But she was too quick and Harry was too tired.

On the wall of her living room was an array of small frames. Probably fifteen or so four by six photos that his mom would have put in a photo album. He recognized Charlie and Ray. A man he could only assume was Charlie’s brother and her dad as they looked like twins with different hair and eye coloring. Girls in their teens, a dog that never seemed to age even though the family around it did, and her gorgeous smile.

There was also a stupid fucking picture of Niall on her wall beside a team photo which made him want to yank it down and stomp on it like a psychopath.

Poor Niall did nothing to deserve Harry’s wrath. The team teased him the moment he went into the locker room telling him all about how she said Niall was his favorite. It wasn’t surprising. Niall was nice and sweet. He didn’t hook up with a bunch of girls nor did he go from city to city hoping to be entertained by a different girl. He was a nice guy. Probably the kind of guy she did deserve. Especially after whatever it was that Kael did to arguably ruin his life by losing her. He barely congratulated him on his saves in the game. Didn’t even buy him a drink at the bar either. To Niall’s credit, he didn’t take it too harshly. Merely smirked at him as he glared. Knowing it really had nothing to do with him at the heart of it.

But the picture of his best friend on her wall just made him grumpier all over again. It didn’t help that Harry was exhausted. He dreaded having to drive home this late. Especially when he was mad on top of everything else. But having seen where she lived, he was glad he followed her home. Didn’t care that it was creepy. It would have made him insane to know she wasn’t safe.

There wasn’t much he could do but turn his attention to her kitchen so he could avoid the stupid picture of his stupid friend who he didn’t like very much at present.

Right there on the fridge door was one of her family photos—clearly taken at a wedding or something. A quick glance showed she wasn’t in it which made him sad. How often was she left out of pictures because she was always the one taking them? Beside her family was the side-by-side duo picture of herself that he saw on her website. A photo of her parents’ dog next to that. A couple landscapes of the ocean and sun.

Right in the middle of all her photos was a picture of Harry.

He swore time stopped. All his anger towards Niall disappeared. Why was he on her fridge? It was the picture of when he scored a goal, from one of the first games she photographed this year. The one she sent him the first time she texted him. “Why’s this on the fridge?” He asked, straightening it alongside the others it. There was a magnet on the back and Harry felt his chest constrict a bit knowing he wasn’t on the wall, but he was in her house. She cared in some way enough to put him among her pictures of family and friends.

She shrugged. “I put all of my favorite pictures on the fridge,” she said it so simply. It wasn’t a big deal to her. The pictures belonged there and that was it. It just was.

His heart sincerely skipped a beat. Like if he were a cartoon, a graphic of a little heart monitor would appear in a cloud bubble, and it would show an irregular rhythm representing the way she made him feel. His gaze flickered to her briefly, but he was worried he would stare and never look away. He cleared his throat and looked toward her wall of photos. “What ‘bout the wall over there?”

“Those are nice pictures too, but I don’t really look at the wall much. It’s behind me when I sit on the couch, you know...? The fridge however,” she had a smile in her voice. “I love snacks and cooking and baking. So, I’m in the kitchen a lot. So, I like to look at my favorites.”

Harry felt softer. Relieved. Less mad and annoyed than he’d been in hours. Maybe even days if he was honest. Harry was one of her favorites. Even if she didn’t mean he was her favorite and merely the photo.

“Bunny?” He asked softly staring at the other half dozen or so of her favorites.

She didn’t miss a beat answering to the nickname that she didn’t really like. But she did really like the way it sounded when Harry said it. “Yeah?”

“Would y’ever wear my jersey?” His voice was quiet, he felt stupid for asking. The question wouldn’t leave his brain until he said it. Whatever the answer was, he had to ask it.

She frowned and sighed. Harry hated that. It seemed like a terrible question, and he was dreading her answer immediately. “I hate to say it, Harry, but I can’t afford a Styles jersey.”

He rolled his eyes. “Would y’wear it?”

“Of course I would, Harry. You’re my friend just like Niall is. And Asher, Callie, and Lang. I really only wore it because you guys were throwing it out.”

Harry rubbed a hand on the side of his face. He could live with that. “Alright.”

“Did I miss something?” She asked. But he knew how perceptive she was. She had to know how much it bothered him that she wore his friend’s name and number on her body today and not his. She had to know he had a crush on her. Even if he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Nope,” he shook his head not wanting to get into it further.

“Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?” She asked again. “You seem really out of sorts...maybe you need something without alcohol?”

“Sure,” he sighed. She could give him whatever she wanted. She wouldn’t be able to tell, but he was relieved now. He didn’t need anything else. “Tea would be nice...” She nodded, gently nudging him out of the way to get a pitcher of water from her fridge. “Can I stay here?”

“You want to stay in my crappy little apartment? After you went on and on about how unsafe it is?” She questioned filling the kettle on her stove.

Fair point, Bunny. “M’exhausted, Rookie. I told you I had a bad day.”

“I see that,” she pouted and scanned him up and down. “Of course you can. You have to take my bed though; the couch is too small for you.”

He shook his head. “M’not kicking y’out of your bed when I barged in.”

“Well... it was... kind of nice that you made sure I got home safely. I’m glad it was you, but I was pretty nervous... so if it wasn’t you...” she shook her head and looked at her hands wringing them awkwardly. “I’m sorry you got stuck here,” she pouted.

More of him softened somehow. It seemed impossible that she could make him feel any softer. He was certain he never felt softer than when she said that his picture was one of her favorites. The way she spoke was so gentle.

“I fall asleep most nights on the sofa anyway,” she shrugged, unaware of the thoughts rolling through Harry’s head. She probably hadn’t a clue how she made him imagine her adorable body curled into the small sofa with a blanket around her. What it would be like for him to come home from a game and find her snuggled into a sweatshirt with his cologne on it, the TV playing the post-game highlights, and her hands tucked under her cheek. Did she snore? Harry ached to know.

God he was fucked. How did she walk into the arena and do that? Harry thought of nothing but hockey and hookups. Now he wondered if she snored at night.

She carefully poured the hot water into a mug with The Charger’s logo on the outside and dipped the tea bag in and out a few times letting the water do its thing. She slid it across the small counter before she poured her own mug. They stood silently for a moment, sipping tea.

“I might have something of Kael’s for you to sleep in.”

“I’d rather die than sleep in that piece of shit’s clothes.”

She smirked around the edge of her mug and shook her head. “Are you cold?” She asked.

He shook his head. It was cold but he wasn’t cold. He would be fine with a few blankets. A warm body beside him would be good too, but he wasn’t sure he could convince her.

She put her mug in the sink and went to the bathroom without warning. After a few minutes, she returned. Her face was washed of makeup, her hair pulled back, and she wore a pair of sweatpants instead. She grabbed a pillow off her bed. “Normally I’d change your sheets, but... It’s too late. I hope you don’t mind.”

Wrapped up in sheets, blankets, and pillows that smelled like her? Fine by him. “S’fine, Rookie. Thank you.”

She grabbed more blankets from under her sofa cushion; a space for storage hiding in plain sight. She placed them at the end of her bed and then went to the sofa. “Make yourself at home,” she offered. “Night, Harry,” she yawned and settled into her pillow and blanket, nuzzling into the warmth just as he imagined, her hands tucked under her cheek.

“Night, Rookie,” he mumbled and climbed into her bed. He was practically asleep before he was fully settled.

*

It couldn’t have been more than a couple hours later—it was still very dark out. Her bed was warm, soft, and smelled so fucking good he thought he might sew himself into the sheets just so he never had to leave. But it was undeniably cold. Even in his hoodie and sweats.

He glanced across the room and could barely make out the shadow of his pretty crush curled into the sofa. She looked chilled and Harry felt so immensely guilty. He got out of bed, his feet nearly stinging on the cold floor. Without more thought he scooped her up. His arms looping around the back of her knees and the other around her waist. He tried to move her without jostling her too much. Her head fell toward him, pressing into his chest as he carried her back to the bed. He settled her under her sheets and blankets. He wanted nothing more than to cozy up to her, but he wasn’t going to ruin the progress he made that night. Instead, he slipped between the sheet and blanket, draped the pair of them in the other blankets.

She sighed loudly in her sleep. Like she was comfortable.

Harry didn’t think there was anyone cuter than her.

*

Harry woke up to her burrowed into his side. He didn’t dare move. If she wanted out, she would have to make the move. There wasn’t anything that would get Harry to remove himself from her warm body in the same bed as him. It was almost too warm, but well worth it.

“Jesus,” she whispered suddenly and scooched back in the bed. “Harry!” She hissed.

He smirked. “Good morning, Rookie,” he yawned. “Sleep well?”

“How did I get here?”

“Y’must have tucked yourself in with me,” he smiled.

She rolled her eyes, shook her head. “Shut up,” she mumbled.

“Y’jus’ looked cold,” he shrugged. “S’plenty of room.”

She sighed. “Well thanks, it was cozy,” her cheeks turned red. “Do you want something to eat?” She asked, immediately pivoting from their little late-night cuddle.

“Y’make breakfast too?”

“It’s actually my favorite meal...” she trailed off pushing the covers off. “I love going out to breakfast,” she got out of bed and grabbed a sweatshirt from her dresser. Harry sensed there was more to that, but as soon as he saw her sweatshirt, all previous thoughts left his mind.

Niall’s number and name on her body made him mad.

The words Glacier Wolves across the front in it’s hideous font was going to send him to an early grave.

“No,” he shook his head immediately. “Take it off.”

“You’re awfully bossy about my outfits, Harry,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s cold. I need a sweatshirt.”

Harry pulled the one he was wearing off. “Here.”

For a moment she eyed it. Harry couldn’t figure out her expression or the pause that lasted as she examined it. “Harry it’s like ten degrees out,” she pulled the hem down and walked toward her bathroom again.

He pouted, grumbling to himself as he put his clothing back on. “M’burning that,” he mumbled.

“I heard that!”

*

Harry left after breakfast. He didn’t bug her about her sweatshirt. But he did beg her to turn the heat on for a little bit. He helped her with dishes and not once did the conversation feel forced, awkward, or like there was a lull that lasted too long. He watched her take pictures of her food, then the way the light streamed in through the window, so it hit her coffee table just so. She adjusted her book to an open page and set a hot cup of tea beside it.

With a couple of snaps, Harry watched her while biting into his toast. “Can I see?” He asked.

“It’s nothing special. I just take random pictures sometimes for practice,” she explained.

He wiped his hand on his leg and held it out expectantly for the priceless equipment. It felt weird, awkward. Tentatively, she handed it to him. Not only had she captured the beauty of the early morning in her little place, she took another picture of Harry drinking tea in between bites.

He smiled. “Aw, Rookie, me?” He teased. She didn’t say anything, looked anywhere but him while her pink cheeks spoke for the emotions she was feeling. “M’not sure why but m’still really impressed,” he tabbed through the pictures she took on the little screen.

She must have faced the camera backwards because her pretty smiling face with the ice rink as back drop behind her illuminated the screen. Harry loved everything about the photo. It had her and his beloved hockey rink. “Can I have this one?” He asked.

“I was going to delete that,” she blushed. Harry frowned.

“No way, Rookie, y’look adorable. Let me have it, y’got me on your fridge.”

She looked away shyly, nodded silently. “I’ll text it to you.”

Harry was unbelievably talented and attractive. He could outthink his opponents on the ice and he was sweet enough to make sure she got home safe. Carried her to bed in the middle of the night to keep her warm.

It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t have him. Even if it was her own doing.

Around ten or so, Harry had to head out and she hated to admit it, but she really missed him almost the moment he left.

*

The following day she headed to practice taking pictures for the team’s social media posts. Ray and Charlie were at the center of the ice waiting for the team to file out of the locker room. She took a picture of her uncle and surrogate uncle. Then she setup for some detail shots while waiting. The score book and pen on the bench. A stick propped up behind the bench. She laid flat on the ice and got a shot of the coach’s shoes on the center of the ice.

“Hey Sweetheart!” Callie called from across the rink—first one on the ice. Ray threw a puck at him, and he shot it into the net. Charlie threw another and he pushed the puck back and forth near him. “Laying down on the job?”

She snorted, shook her head with a smile. “Come here!” He glided over and stopped in front of her without getting ice all over her and her equipment. “Put your stick flat on the ground,” she ordered. She reached out and touched the puck and pushed it in front of the slight bend at the end of his stick. “Take your helmet off, and your gloves.”

“You gonna tell me to take more of my uniform off, Sweetheart?” He teased but followed her directions.

“You wish.”

“I do wish, Sweetheart, I do.”

She shook her head while centering her view on the shot she wanted. “Don’t move.”

“Yes ma’am,” he sighed dreamily. He was enjoying her bossing him around too much and she couldn’t help but smile while she clicked the shutter taking several of the same photo.

“Okay, thank you,” she carefully maneuvered so she would flop awkwardly back on the ice. Callie immediately grabbed her camera and then took hold of her arm to help her up. Once righted, she brushed the ice off the front of her body. She was quite chilled from lying on the ground for so long. Plus her apartment was cold, naturally her car’s heater was chilly, and it felt like she never quite got out of the cold ever because of it.

“Can I see?” He said excitedly.

She turned the camera to show him. Her teeth chattered a little more than usual. Callie put an arm around her shoulders to add some warmth. He was tall and lean like most other hockey players. And undoubtedly attractive too. “You’re pushing it, Kian,” she shook her head but didn’t mind how warm he felt.

“No one calls me Kian except my mother, Sweetheart,” he reminded her. “You’re cold. Don’t read into it,” he took the camera from her and thumbed through the photos pressing the buttons beside the screen to view them. “Wow,” he murmured. “That’s so cool, Sweetheart. It looks really beautiful.”

She blushed with pride and ducked her face. “Thank you.”

“You know... I’m not sure what he did, but Kael is an idiot to lose you,” he affirmed clicking through more of the photos. “Can we take one?” He asked.

“Yeah, sure,” she turned the camera around and pointed where Callie needed to look. He squeezed around her a little tighter as she clicked the shutter. He immediately took the camera back and examined the photo. “Cute, Sweetheart,” he grinned and continued flipping through all her photos. Including the ones from her breakfast with Harry the day before. “Ooh... what’s this?” He cooed. “Did you and Styles have a sleepover?!” He gaped.

She took her camera back. “No,” she didn’t even blush. It wasn’t his business. She didn’t want Charlie to hear.

And she definitely didn’t want Harry to hear.

Harry slid onto the ice his eyes zeroing in on his teammate’s arm wrapped around her almost immediately. She felt a little awkward knowing that he seemed to be a bit territorial about her even though it wasn’t really within his right. He glowered at the puck that Charlie tossed to him, and it sailed almost immediately into the net from where he stood. “I can’t compete with him, Sweetheart,” Callie frowned. “Please tell me you don’t actually like Styles.”

“I like all of you, Kian,” she rolled her eyes, tearing her eyes away from his broody skating.

“But you like me most, right?” Asher appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“She likes you least,” Lang said assuredly skating by just as quick. She laughed and shook her head.

“I like you all equally,” she promised.

“Bull shit, you can’t sell a twenty-way-tie!” Asher frowned.

She loved her little family away from her real one. This team made her feel more loved and appreciated than Kael ever did. It was eye-opening in so many ways. Was it just because she took pictures on the team? Would they behave this way if she was just a girlfriend? Or the coach’s niece without special treatment? She got special treatment from the other girlfriends and wives of the Glacier Wolves simply because she was Kael’s girlfriend.

At about the same time she started to feel drained by her relationship (the last six months before it ended), she overheard two of the significant others talking about her in the bathroom. While she was using the bathroom... They said Kael was an idiot to stay with her. She was a leech and nothing more. For three years she had been nothing but a good girlfriend. She attended every game, catered to Kael’s workout schedules, practice schedules. She monitored his calendar and made sure his stunning, penthouse apartment was cleaned. She hosted parties for his teammates. For three years post-graduation she didn’t take photography gigs, skipped family parties, and let her degree sit on a shelf unused to it’s full potential.

Maybe The Chargers boys were just being kind because she was the coach’s niece. Maybe her skill really was subpar. Wasn’t she really just a leech in a new way now? Her uncle got her this job and they didn’t really need her.

Kael fucked her up good. Made her feel worthless. He didn’t value her skill and made her believe she wasn’t good enough in any part of her life. “Hey Sweetheart?” Callie asked, giving her a squeeze, bringing her mind back to the present. “You good?”

She nodded. “Sorry, just daydreaming.”

“About me?!” Asher grinned. She smiled. At least for now, this family she had was sweet. She wanted to believe they valued her for her and savor it for however long she could.

*

While the boys practiced, she went to the locker room and tidied up, brought the dirty uniform hamper to the laundry room, and brought the clean laundry back. She took more detail shots without the boys around. It was fun to get them in the shots, like the ones she took with Callie. But ever-like puppies, it was easier to get pictures without them milling around eagerly. She took some really nice shots of their locker space. With the right lighting, it would look like they were ready for battle—she could see it in her head, and she couldn’t wait to get the shots of their numbers alongside equipment on her computer to play with the settings.

But after about an hour of that, she ran out of things to do. She sauntered back to the rink and watched from the bench. Ray and Charlie stood at the center dictating where they should go and what to do next. It was mesmerizing. The beauty and graceful agility these tall, lean, padded men exuded was incredible.

“Take a picture it will last longer!”

The team burst into laughter as Callie called out to her. She shook her head but certainly did just that.

“Hey Sweetheart,” Niall grinned coming over during another break. “Heard you had Harry over. Hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

She smiled. “No, he was good,” she assured him. “It was nice he followed me home. To make sure I was safe.”

“Yeah, he’s decent like that. His sister Gemma made him a real gentleman,” he agreed. “He didn’t like you wearing my jersey,” he told her.

“I’m well aware.”

“I won’t say no if you wear it again.”

She laughed. “Will do.”

“Want to make him madder taking a picture?”

“Maybe tomorrow, Kian made him pretty mad today with that one already.”

“Who?” Niall furrowed his eyebrows. She shook her head and silently laughed. “Is that what the silent treatment was for?” Niall asked with a laugh and skated off to rejoin his team.

*

At the end of practice, she took shots of them leaving the ice, the empty net. In her head she had a series of photos. The sequence of a hockey game and maybe she would put it into motion one day. She sat on the bench looking at her camera screen and sifted through some of the multiples she didn’t need.

“Hey Rookie,” Harry said softly.

She looked up and smiled. “Hi, Harry.”

Dangling from his fingers were a pair of figure skates. All white, pink guards, pink anterior cushioning, and pink laces.

“I got you these.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“To practice.”

“Harry, I cannot accept that. I know how much ice skates cost. Those have to be close to 400 dollars.”

He shrugged. “That’s what a good pair cost.”

“Harry, I can’t even stand on the ice. Return them. I’m not taking a 400-dollar pair to ruin because I can’t even stand still while wearing them... And they’re practically giving me blisters from just looking at them. I don’t have the right socks..." Harry looked disappointed and he frowned. "But... that... that was very sweet of you,” she added. Because she hadn’t said thank you yet, and it was sweet. It was extremely thoughtful of him. “Thank you,” she added gratefully. “That was so nice of you.”

“Do you like Callie?” He blurted.

“Do you think I’m in love with every man I meet?” She countered.

“You two looked cozy,” he mumbled.

“I was cold,” she admitted. “He offered his jersey, but I didn’t want a repeat of the other night,” she quipped. Harry smirked and looked away from her. “I’m not dating hockey players, remember?” She grabbed her camera and bag ready to leave the rink.

“Yeah...” he sighed, rubbed the back of his head. “I know, Rookie.”

*

There was a knock on her door later that evening. She assumed it was Michael asking if she had baked anything after feeling a bit on the munchier side of life. It probably wasn’t Marc because he had a date with the hockey lover. But maybe it was an early night for them, so who knew.

Instead, Harry was there. A pair of skates dangling from his fingers once more. The guards were still pink, there were scuffs on the toes and heels. The interior was cushioning was a light brown. “They’re a good brand. Used, so they didn’t cost a lot. But full disclosure, they were the most expensive used pair I could find because m’not gonna let y’skirt on the quality because of the cost. They won’t hurt your feet with blisters being brand new.”

Harry, with used ice skates, was the last person she expected to see. There was a tug in her chest where her heart would have melted for Kael to do something as kind as that. But she couldn’t fall in love with Harry. It was just a bad idea. He was a celebrity. There were millions of women he could choose from.

“Have you had it with dragging me around the ice or something?” She asked.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, but... I want t’help you, Rookie. Y’should know how t’skate. Think of the pictures y’could take even if y’jus’ learn t’skate a little,” he shrugged.

That tug in her chest felt an awful lot like Harry worming his way into the center of her universe. But she didn’t want to do that again. Not really. She didn’t want to dote on Harry the way she did only for it to backfire on her. She still had a lot of time, but she felt behind. Kael made it so she didn’t have tons of money. She ‘didn’t have to worry about it’ because he made plenty. But it wasn’t about money. It was about her independence and now she felt like she literally paid the price. “I got y’some socks too,” Harry added.

Goddammit.

She was going to fall in love with him.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @boopookie @indierockgirrl @stylesfever @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @mads3502

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl

@emmie2308 @fruity-harry @somebunnybaby @avas-queen-black @mema10

@tulips4harry @sturnrc @sassamanda77 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @mp-269

@jmp1494 @fangirl509east

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[considermeharmless]

The Labyrinth Games - Part 2

Hello, hello, you wonderful people! The new day enfolds and it has quite a few surprises. Hold on to your seats! Status of the previous day, then today’s simulation right below the cut. OvO

Night 1

Now, how will some of these new characters act in the darkness of the night...

Hah! Don’t we all! XD

Hmm... Can’t say much about it. On one hand, it seems like a good strategy to avoid getting attacked by surprise, but he also runs the risk of being less focused on the next day! If he survives this long, that is. 

Uuuuuhhhh okaaaayyyy? That’s an interesting pairing XD

Wounds? What wounds? Up to this point, he got fishing gear and a hatchet but nothing really happened to him that we kno-... Wait. Could it be? I’m pretty sure he must have some fishing skills and knowledge but... Could he have messed up with the fishing hook and got his own skin hooked or something? XD That or he really had no idea how a hatchet worked x)

Awww :’c Is it because his little hunting gang (The Night Terror, Leticia, Ventis and himself) got dissolved at some point?

sHe aLrEaDy HaVe sOmE tHrOwiNG KniVeS!!! And she didn’t even need those to begin with!

HAHAHAHA!! Oh the irony! X’D But also... Kinda sad... I dunno, am I the only one to have some weird pity for TNT? Anyway, this coincidence in the wording is outstanding. 10/10.

Good for her to have found some food!

Sweet dreams. u3u

Always a lady with smarts!

Again... What infection? XD He slept through the day before! Infected with good rest??

Ah welp, that’s a shame ^^’ So far, he has had more killing/scary skills than survival ones XD

That’s... pretty impressive for sure. Although, very little surprises me to what this man can do x) But why in this context would you spare such a big threat after you defeated him, Michael?!

NOOOO VEN!! D: Was that really necessary, Chaos, hm?? You already scared Bradley man away and killed Donald! Calm down! And yikes, a molotov?! Who else are you gonna destroy in cold blood!

Cool! Remember to stay hydrated, kids and adults :D

There it is, people! The fried-chicken-feather-duster is no more!

You can now put down your pitchforks XD Oh and slow-clap for Sarah dying by trying to arm a bomb =v=

Day 2

Oh noooooo those 3 are too good at their jobs and too similar. This will probably either go terribly or beautifully.

Yeah, I bet defeating Bigby in a fight the night before must have left at least some little cuts or bruises that need medical attention TvT

What a bunch of peaceful events for Oswald today. He slept well during the night and now spends the day getting fruits!

NDUZHOJDNHOAJNSJND. Good on Mickey for getting away! Not good for the Night Terror though XD It has proven itself to be much deadlier. 

Oh no! XD Chaos and Mayhem?? Working together?! And poor Michael has done nothing but try to hunt for others with no success and cry since the beginning c’:

Oof. Wonder how this came to happen... The running away from Amish, I mean. Not the sprain XD 

O.O 

But why..? And how? But mostly wHY???

No idea where this trident came from but good for her if it gets her a meal!

Labyrinth Event

Oooo, Arena Events! Or Labyrinth Events, really. They’re always fun, wonder what this one will b--

CARNIVOROUS. SQUIRRELS.

Yep. You read it right. I know this, because I triple checked! XD Oh dear stars and planets the absolute madness... But anyway uhhhh sorry still reeling in the craziness of this meeeeean Michael for playing dirty! But a kill is still a kill TvT

OvO

Again... Madness... And also, what? “Separate”? You mean they were sticking together up until now? XD But alas, the Chaotic Lads from yesterday are no more...

Good for them! And impressive since “carnivorous squirrels” seems like a strangely catastrophic threat now.

AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

What-- what is this?? And why did you have to word it like that, simulation? “In agony”, I... QnQ But, but what if she had survived the attack, huh? D:

“there are too many”... So she died from the attack?! OnO 

“Beware of the creature with four mouths”, “Don’t trust Sarah Songbird”, “Don’t follow the voices inside”, HAH! The squirrels are the real enemies in the Labyrinth, now!

The God of Chaos too??? What are these rodents made of?!

... Well. Both Holly and her version of a different reality/universe, dead in the same manner. How fitting and tragic. TvT

Nice. At least some of them got away from the rats of doom...

Soooo, they were beside each other up until then? :’D Mugsy... You’re a sweetheart, but in these simulation and a bit in story too, you’re a taaad scary XD Still sad to see them both go though! And he had some explosives too...

*weak yay for the both of them after this tragically devastating rollercoaster*

The Fallen characters

So... so many... And such powerful ones too! The Night Terror, Sarah, Chaos, Mayhem, Luka... And the other ones as well! All so much more deadly than rodents or so I thought. 

... Maybe Mickey... survived because... y’know what? I’m gonna shush XD

Status of the day

What can I say? With how murderous the squirrels were, I’m not fazed by the little amount of kills the characters had between each others! Still, I’ll keep an eye on team 10... See ya tomorrow!

[trashyswitch]

The Irish Collaboration

Kevin and Daniel get together in person for the very first duel game of Super Smash Bros in the same house. Amidst the craziness, Kevin gets a great idea from the chat.

This is just a fanfic I whipped up in a matter of an hour. And don't worry: I felt like doing this. I'll be giving myself a break! I promise! I just really wanted to get this out!

Kevin had flown to Japan for a while to hang out with Daniel (Aka: RTGame) after COVID had been mostly eradicated. With both of them double vaxxed, Daniel and Kevin were allowed to hang out without needing to quarantine for 10-14 days!

Kevin and Daniel were now going to record their first videogame together. Well, obviously this wasn’t their first game together. But it would be their first game ever played in the same house! And wanna guess what they played?

If you guessed Super Smash Bros, then you are correct!

Daniel smiled and grabbed his switch controllers. “Alright. Let’s get this video started!” Daniel declared.

Daniel switched the live channel to the webcam and the video game Beside him, was Kevin trying to get his switch controller synced to the console.

“Alright, I think my controllers are synced.” Kevin told him.

“Perfect.” Daniel reacted. “Did you bring your baby too?” Daniel asked.

“You bet I did.” Kevin grabbed his wii baby and placed him in between Daniel and himself.

“Alright! Gilbert will sit beside your little cursed one.” Daniel decided.

“Yay! Awww, look they’re playing!” Daniel reacted as he started bashing Kevin’s Wii baby.

“Awww, how sweet.” Kevin responded.

Daniel sat his baby down beside the knocked over baby, and started choosing his character. “I think I’m gonna choose...Obama.” Daniel decided.

“Oooh! Hahahahaha! I’m gonna choose...Turg.” Kevin decided.

“Alright! Go Turg! I believe in you, Turg!” He joked.

“Awww, thank you, thank you.” kevin replied kindly. “Now DIE!” Kevin shouted right as the game started.

“NO!” Daniel yelled.

And: Kevin and Daniel were off!

[5 rounds later]

Kevin growled as he was beaten again.

“Curse you and your amazing gaming abilities!” Kevin joked.

“Oh, don’t sweat it. You’ll win one, I’m sure.” Daniel told him.

Then, Kevin turned to read the comments people were writing.

{TICKLE HIM!}

{Get him back! :D}

{Go for the ribs!}

{Tickle him till he pees!}

Kevin widened his eyes and laughed.

Daniel turned to him. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh just some stupid comments.” Kevin replied, before turning back to the camera and winking.

A new game had just begun! King Dedede! Vs. Ganondorf! The players immediately started smashing each other.

Kevin turned to the comments and read them rather quickly without seeming too obvious.

{is he gonna do it?}

{LOL Tickle his little tootsies!}

{Is Dan even ticklish?}

{Tickle your lad!}

Kevin smiled and wiggled his fingers towards the camera. Then, he returned to the game so he didn’t notice anything.

“Dude, you’re not really even fighting me.” Daniel reacted.

“I know, sorry.” Kevin told him.

“I might have another win under my belt!” Dan reacted.

“Yeah, maybe.” Kevin replied.

As it would turn out, Dan would win yet again.

“Oooh! Man, I am destroying you!” Dan reacted, cracking his back and smiling.

“Not for long!” Kevin declared.

The next game was on! It was very much the same characters as before: Ganondorf Vs. King Dedede! The fight started out rather normally.

“Yes! Take that! And that!” Daniel declared.

“No!” Kevin yelled.

Daniel and Kevin were halfway through the game when Dan had struck.

“I am so- GaaAAH!” Dan screeched like a dog, and curled in on himself. “KEVIN!” He yelled.

“What?” He asked, squeezing his sides more.

“NOho! Kehehevin yohohou cheheheateher!” He laughed quietly at first.

“You’re the one winning all the time!” Kevin reacted.

“Ihihit’s nohohot- OHOHO GOHOHAHAHAHAHAHA!” His laughter jumped a few octaves as he was tickled up in the armpits. “QUIHIHIT IHIHIT!” He laughed more.

“Then quit winning!” Kevin declared.

Dan was laying on the other side, kicking the babies as he tried to push Kevin’s fingers off him.

“Okay, he’s ticklish in the armpits! The armpits are a bad one! Where else do I go?” Kevin asked the chat.

“Wahahait whahahahat!?” Daniel asked.

“The chat wanted me to get revenge!” He told him. “And LOADS of people wanted it.” He added.

“WHYHYHYHY?!” He asked.

“Oho, you know why.” Kevin replied.

Kevin moved to his stomach to see if it was ticklish at all. And sure enough, it was!

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP!” He begged.

“But tickling you is so much fun! And I’m not just saying that. Tickling you is actually more fun than I expected.” Kevin told him and the chat.

Daniel was squeaked and squealed the moment his belly button was even touched.

“NOHOHOHO FUHUHUHUCK!” He laughed.

“Just laugh it up, Dan. It makes the world a little more happier. Unless you don’t like happy, that is.” He joked, referring to his videos of destruction.

“FUHUHUCKING HEHEHEHEHELL! LEHEHEHET MEHEHE GOHOHOHO!” he begged.

“Let you go? And risk you beating me again? I don’t think so!” He teased. “Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle!” He teased.

“YOHOHOU’RE SOHOHOHO WEIHIHIHIRD!” He reacted.

“Why thank you, Dan! I know I’m weird.” Kevin replied. “And the chat is also weird for suggesting such a thing.” He added.

Dan was wiggling around, laughing hysterically and flailing his arms around. He had dropped his controllers onto the couch by now, and had completely lost all composure.

“WHYHYHY AHAHAHARE YOHOHOHOU SOHOHO GOHOHOOD AHAHAHAT THIHIHIS?!” Dan asked.

“I have a sister, Dan! I’ve had countless tickle fights before!” Kevin responded.

Dan pushed him off. “Wehehehe’re on cahahamerahaha!” He told him.

Kevin grabbed his foot. “And that hasn’t stopped people before, has it?” Kevin asked.

“NOHOHOHO! NAHAHAT MYHY FEHEHEET!” He begged.

“Oh? Not the feet? Not these pair of feet?” He asked, tickling them with his fingers.

“NOHOHO FEHEHEHEHEET REHEHEHECOHOHORDIHIHING!” He begged.

“Oh…” Kevin stopped and moved to the bottom of the couch. “Here:” He sat down on the ground in front of the couch and held onto his foot. “No feet shots.” He promised before resuming back to tickling his foot.

Dan covered his mouth and squealed, trying to keep his laughter in.

“Ooooooh, being resistant now?” He asked.

Daniel shook his head, throwing his bouncy hair around in the process, and kept his hand on his whole mouth.

“I see, I see. Looks like I’ll have to pull your toes back…” He pulled his toes back, “And tickle your little footsie this way!” He declared, tickling his exposed toes.

Daniel squealed again and tugged on his foot. “NO!”

“Ohohoho YES!” He started scratching and skittering quickly to finally get him to break.

“BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! GAHAHAHAD DAHAHAHAMMIHIHIHIT!” He finally laughed. “IHIHIHIHIT’S SOHOHOHOHO BAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAD!” He screamed!

“Kitchy kitchy koo!” Kevin teased.

“DOHOHOHON’T SAHAHAHAY THAHAHAHAT!” He ordered.

“Don’t say what? Kitchy kitchy kitchy koo? A kitchy kitchy kitchy koo!” He teased more.

“NOHOHOHO!” He laughed.

“Your feet are surprisingly very ticklish!” He reacted. “I’m genuinely surprised.” he admitted.

“SHUHUHUHUT UHUHUHUHP!” Dan ordered yet again.

“Shut up?! You expect me, the man behind the baby abuse and Jim Pickens killings, to shut up?!” He reacted.

Dan shook his head.

“In fact, I am just gonna further annoy you by singing my favorite song while I tickle you!” Kevin declared.

“WAHAHAHIT!” He begged.

“Nope!” He started singing. ♫Country rooooooaaad! Take me hoooooome!♫ he sang proudly with a smirk.

“STAHAHAHAHAP THAHAHAHAT!” Dan ordered.

♫To the plaaaaaaace, I beloooooong!♫ He continued to sing.

“WHAHAHAHAT THEHEHE FUHUHUHUHUCK!” Dan shouted.

♫West virginiaaaaaaaa, southern maamaaaaaa!♫ He continued to sing.

“HEHEHEHEHELP CHAHAHAHAHAT!” He finally begged towards the chat.

♫Take me hoooooome, country rooooooaaaad.♫ Kevin finished.

“YOHOHOHOU’RE BEHEHEHEIHIHING CRAHAHAHAZYHYHYHY!” Dan fought.

“Well, looks like we have to start it aaaaaaall over again!” Kevin declared.

“NOHOHOHO!” Dan begged and pleaded. “CHAHAHAHAT PLEHEHEHEASE HEHEHEHELP!”

♫Country rooooooaaaad! Take me hooooooooome♫ Kevin started singing all over again.

And Dan would wind up never getting saved by the poor chat. In fact, the chat room would only encourage it further with their comments!

{YEEEESS!}

{This is such chaos...I love it}

{Someone get them both a record deal!}

{Dan could be the next Michael Jackson!}

{♫COUNTRY ROAD TAKE ME HOME♫}

{I just joined...Wtf?}

[skul-the-terf-slayer]

WOO lore time this is nerve wracking (everything below this line is c! not cc!)

why is he talking about withers..........

"who needs a shield when you can just STAAAAAB"

im so excited bro tubbo-techno lore is so good. animosity pogchamp

I am doing algebra while watching the stream in order to feel productive, do you feel me? do you feel the vibe?

"every where I go I see his face *insert fake crying* jk we're gonna avenge him today chat"

TUBBO!!!!!! MY LAD!!!!! MY BRO!!!! HE'S HERE BESTIE!!!

bro they're gonna go mess Eret up leave them alone they have michael 😭

"how are you fellow person with..... aligned goals"

CRYING HE WENT QUIET WHEN TCEHCNO SAID IT WAS RANBOO'S AXE IM GOING TO SCREEHC

imm losing it these mfs are laughing and im here going analysis mode and crying

TUBBO AND TECHNO AGREE THAT TUBBO HAS NOTHING AND HE LOST HIS CHILD ADN TUBBO IS IN DENIAL AND HES GONNA SPEEDRUN THE STAGES OF GRIEF AAHHAHAHAAAA

AWWW YISSSS HE'S GETTIN VENGENCE

"I feel like I owe you an apology" fuckin. hng. THEY DO NEED TO TURN OVER A NEW LEAF PLEASE PELS EPLEASE EASPLE

YES YES YES UNDERSNAD THE CYCLICAL NATURE OF REVENGE YESSSS

fuck character development Michael first priority

oh my god I am getting ANALYSIS material im so into this

EREt! TALK TO THEM!

why does Eret sound so ominous bruv. tubbo is, so desperate to get his son back

ERET WHAT THE HELL WHY DID YOU TRUST SAM IM GOING TO GRRRRR SO TRUE TUBBO.

HES HURTING MICHAEL WHAT THE FUCK. HAT WHAT DGERL FSGDSL MURDERE

tubbo is so angry go you tubbo <3. fuck sam tho no offense but like full offense. give me Michael back RN.

HE'S A PRISON WARDEN ERET. PLEASE.

mans just making up random coords love that for him

tubbo :(( making sure michael isnt scared of him :(((

STOOOOP "now we've got the epic team up of tubbo and everyone who murdered tubbo"

I was waiting for tubbo to start questioning them tbh. im so happy he doesnt trust them like this is good lore shit. good analysis material.

TECHNO IS APOLOGIZING :D!!!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEE AND HE'S FORGIVEN

he's still mad at Eret- LMAO he's so mad this is kinda funny but Eret is apologizing <3

ayo where he comes from? they dont have multiple lives?

stop most of this vc is literally talking in bold or comic sans.

STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP "you get locked up a lot man" STOP I AM GOING TO HHNG.

SFLNSDFGNSDFSL

ayo eryn? sus.

that is a lot of liveblogging in one ask, but i'll try my best to respond to it all

1. he's talking about withers because withers deserve to be talked about

2. he's got a point y'know, a corpse can't kill you

3. i honestly enjoy people geeking out about stuff they love (unless it's hitler (ifykyk))

4. i do feel you. the vibe is being broadcast from the heart of russia to the pentagon with the force of at least 7 megatons of tnt

5. ranboo,,

6. WOOO THE BOI IS HERE!!!

7. everytime you do one of these liveblogs, i learn more names i don't know

8. that's kind of a weird way to describe murder. I think that's more how you would describe gout /ref

9. grieving still, i guess?

10. cope /s

11. hey, kind of how i did when i couldn't spell 'fingers'! :D

12. VENGENCE POGGG

13. how exactly did you manage to spell 'please' four different ways with only one of them being correct??

14. i'm having trouble 'undersnading' half the words you're saying right now

15. first priority in what exactly????

16. get that analysis bestie, you can never get enough!

17. I believe humans have been doing that since the fossil records, but go off, ig

18. 'bruv'. i think talking to me is slowly turning you british (remorseful)

19. i have no context for any of this, but i don't need it.

20. i cannot condone the murder of another human being, but the murder of pixels has no bearing on your criminal record, so take this knife and jab it into the aggressor's face

21. 'no offence but please die <3' is the energy i get from that

23. is he a good warden?

24. HOW TO GET YOUR FRIENDS LOST (NOT CLICKBAIT??(WORKING 2022!))

25. tubbo be a good boi :))

26. OOOF but lol

27. god this is reminding me of the fnaf fandom just tearing apart each game for even the tiniest little nugget of lore (no offence)

28. TECHNO HAS BEEN ACCEPTED!! POGCHAMP!

29. at least Eret tried?

30. wait, aren't they meant to have three lives each?

31. *first note of megalovania but in vibrato*

32. please, not on the carpet

33. how am i supposed to respond to a keysmash, exactly?

34. when the im- *gets nuked from orbit*

[peantutbutter]

69. “We are not going to steal someone’s dog.” with Michael, Gavin and Jeremy please!

 69. (nice) “We are not going to steal someone’s dog.”

Trigger Warning for brief mentions of animal abuse. Nothing is graphically explicit and everything turns out ok and the dog is rescued, but the thought of an injured animal is triggering or otherwise too emotionally distressing for you, go ahead and keep scrolling

The Mad Lad’s Animal Rescue Agency [ao3]

It’s odd.

As far as Michael knows, both Gavin and Jeremy are what he would consider cat people. Pets aren’t allowed in the penthouse, of course, but both get swept up in conversations about what they would name potential future cats, and both go out of their way to set out food and water for the strays of the city.

So when the two come to him cooing and gushing about a sweet looking pit bull they’ve met, Michael is a little astonished when they start telling him their plans for whisking her away in the dead of night.

“We’re not stealing someone’s dog,” he deadpans, and he can’t fucking believe that he has to say it.

“Awww, c’mon Michael, why not? Lookat her!” Gavin whines, shoving his phone in his face.

And, yeah, alright, she’s fucking cute — chocolate brown fur; a light pink tongue lolling out of her mouth; a tail that’s blurry because it’s wagging so fast; and large, shining brown eyes that are staring adoringly at Gavin in the selfie he’s taken — but Michael can’t just let his boys go off and steal a dog for no good reason. “Because it’ll shit all over the goddamn floor!” he argues. “Where are we gonna keep her, Gavin? We gonna make her ride an elevator every time she needs to take a piss?”

But the thing about Gavin is that once he gets something in his head, there’s really no stopping him. And with Jeremy involved, really, all Michael can do is hope to mitigate the inevitable collateral damage.

It’s ass o’clock in the morning when Michael pulls into what is possibly the most boring middle class neighborhood and parks across the street from a house that looks like the dozens of others surrounding it. He cuts the engine of their unmarked van and looks to Gavin and Jeremy making their last-minute preparations in the back. The entire vehicle smells like peanut butter and Gavin slaps Jeremy’s hand away from the bag of bacon he had fried up before leaving. “That’s not for you!” he hisses.

Jeremy pouts indignantly, but lets it be. They grab a pair of bolt cutters, while Gavin stuffs his pockets full of treats and clips various dog toys to his belt. A brightly colored rope dangles from his hips, and right beside it a squeaky chicken. He pauses for a minute, tennis ball in hand, and frowns thoughtfully, trying to figure out where to place it.

Ultimately, he sets it down, deciding that his skirt of toys is sufficient.

Jeremy pulls on a pair of gloves and grabs a leash dangling from a hook. They shoot Gavin an eager look, which he eagerly returns.

“You look like fucking idiots,” Michael says, because one: it’s true, and two: he apparently has a compulsive need to kill the mood if it’s stupid, like this one. Gavin and Jeremy just look at him, still smiling, mischief gleaming in their eyes. Michael rolls his eyes and waves his hand. “Go get the damn dog.”

The other two excitedly scramble out of the car and crouch-run their way across the street, like they’re on some sort of actual heist. Michael barely suppresses an eye roll. It’s not like the hazy moonlight or streetlamps are illuminating the street or anything. Idiots.

He watches them stealth their way to a chain-link fence. On the other side, Michael can make out what appears to be a ramshackle doghouse, and a tiny figure curled up just outside it. He can’t hear it, but he assumes Gavin whistles or does something to get the dog’s attention, because the figure’s head pops up and it pushes itself onto it’s legs.

Or at least it tries.

Jeremy is clipping away at the fence when Michael notices how the poor thing’s back paws are dragging uselessly along the ground. Her tail wags furiously as she crawls over to Gavin, but she isn’t moving very fast.

Oh. That’s why they’d been so adamant about doing this.

His knuckles turn white, and the steering wheel creaks under his grip. That familiar burn courses through his body, licking flames up and down his arms and legs. The vein in his jaw throbs, and he forces himself to take a deep breath. Going in and beating the owner senseless is tempting — “How does it feel, huh? How does it fucking feel? — but running in blindly, fists flying, would be reckless and stupid. And while he has his moments, tonight he’s the sensible one.

Or at least that’s what he tells himself. But when a light flicks on in the house while Jeremy is in the middle of unhooking the dog’s chain and latching their own, all of Michael’s self restraint leaves him. There’s a shadow moving throughout the house, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He pulls the baseball bat from the passenger footwell and tears out of the van.

Gavin exclaims loudly as Michael rips past.

“Get the dog outta here, I’ll cover you!” Michael yells, and his lifetime of hopping fences pays off as he effortlessly scales the wire structure. His feet land on the ground with a soft thump and gets into position on the other side of the sliding glass door. He chokes up on the bat, ready to swing.

Jeremy finally manages to slip the hook of their leash through the loop on the dog’s collar just as the door slides open. The man inside is screaming angrily, but Michael doesn’t hear what he’s saying. He’s more focused on how he’s going to make this dickbag scream for another reason.

The guy steps outside, not seeing Michael where he hides just behind him, and he reaches for something tucked in his waistband. The second Michael realizes it’s a gun, he pounces, striking the guy in the back of the knees and bringing the bat down on the guy’s back with a satisfying crack.

He fucking whales on the guy, letting all that righteous anger course through him. Each strike shakes his bones, and he’s pleasantly reminded why this is his primary weapon of choice. There’s something so deliciously personal about taking a guy apart with a big stick. He keeps swinging until he’s sure Gavin and Jeremy have pulled the poor pup to safety. The bastard is curled into the fetal position, and his gun, which Michael had kicked away, lay just out of reach.

The horn of the van blares — one of his lads letting him know they’re clear — and Michael brings the bat down for a final strike. It makes a wet crunch against the back of the guy’s head. He’s not one hundred percent sure whether the guy is unconscious or actually dead. He doesn’t particularly care. He’s got no love for people who beat their animals, and, frankly, he’s killed for less.

His arms burn, and as he wipes blood from his face, he realizes that the lights in the surrounding houses are flicking on. The sound of an approaching siren kicks him into gear. He scrambles over the fence — a feat more difficult now that his limbs feel gooey with exertion — and books it across the street.

The engine revs as Jeremy puts the key in the ignition. Sirens are growing closer, and tired civilians are emerging from their homes to see what the fuss is about. The doors to the back are wide open, and Gavin, gently cradling the dog, yells at him to “Hurry up!”

Michael flings himself into the back of the van, and Jeremy takes off like a bullet, tires squealing against the asphalt, leaving behind the scent of burned rubber.

They fly out of the neighborhood, and Jeremy takes a few random turns, shaking any potential pursuers off their trail. All the while, Gavin is cooing at the creature in his arms. “Who’s a good girl? Who’s a good Bella?” he asks. “Who doesn’t have to worry about that mean old man ever again? Yes, it’s you!”

He pets Bella until she calms down, mindful of her legs, which rest gingerly on the seat. Slowly, her eyes drift shut, and she falls asleep under his touch. He smiles softly, and Michael can’t help but do the same at the scene before him.

Then Gavin turns to look at him. “Thank you, Michael,” he murmurs, barely audible over the hum of the engine.

Michael shrugs. “Don’t understand why you didn’t tell me why you wanted to steal this guy’s dog in the first place.”

“Ah, well…” Gavin pauses for a moment, trying to figure out what he wants to say. “Lil J and I kind of figured you riding out your rage would be the best cover in case we got caught. And that’s something that only really happens in the moment. So we needed you going in blind.”

Michael stares blankly for a moment, blinking slowly, trying to understand the reasoning. “You didn’t tell me,” he says slowly, “because you wanted me to be pissed off enough to attack a guy in case he caught you.”

Gavin presses his lips together and nods. “Yeah.”

Michael scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You two are fucking ridiculous,” he says. Then his gaze travels towards the peacefully sleeping dog. “What are you going to do with her?”

Gavin shrugs. “Gonna get our medic to take a look at her and see what he can do. After that…I dunno, try to find a nice place for her to live. Fredo’s been saying he wants a dog, so maybe he’ll be willing to take care of her.”

“So you never planned on her living in the penthouse, did you?” Michael asks.

“Of course not, Michael boy,” Gavin answers easily. His eyes sparkle with humor. “We’re not gonna make her ride the elevator every time she needs to take a leak.”

[shadeofazmeinya]

Lads carving pumpkins!! They go out and get the biggest ones they can find and have a cute test where they make them as spooky as possible.

Awww this is so cute!!! I imagine Jeremy’s is pretty good, he’s a good artist after all. Michael’s is pretty standard “Hey, I’m doing a classic jack-o-lantern, they’re a fuckign classic for a reason” but it turns out pretty good. Gavin tries for something really complex and it doesn’t turn out really well but they can at least mostly make out what it’s supposed to be so the other Lads praise him on it. In between teasing him of course. They proudly display them in the window of the penthouse, where not many can see them but the Fakes know they’re there so that’s what counts.

[everyonesawhoregrace]

I'm feeling So Sad and I literally miss my cat so badly, could you please write a blurb about Tommy sensing that the reader's feeling kind of down and just going up to her and cuddling her (like a fucking cat yeah I have no shame)

awww i am so incredibly sorry about your cat. what an unfair loss - im sorry baby - and fuck shame, you’re emotional. sending good, wholesome vibes your way angel 

MY   E V E R Y T H I N G

You went MIA for the first time ever, and it wasn’t because you wanted to tease Tommy, or because you were feeling like being a bitch. But rather, the loss of your furbaby. He came to your door, begging for you to let him in. Being without you was a first for Tom Shelby. 

At first, your relationship was platonic. You were good company and someone who didn’t desire money. You were a safe place for Thomas Michael Shelby. And more than anything, you were a pretty face Tommy could look at. You were happy, and your cheeks were rosy, and you were strong, and womanly. Sexy.

Thomas grew attracted to you very quickly, he realized he needed you in more than a friendly way. He was forthright with wanting to fuck you, but you didn’t let the fool play with your emotions, or your body. 

Things got really good between the two of you, until finally, you two shared your first kiss. He clung onto you then, and promised to never let go. 

And he never did...

He stood at your front door with his head bowed, listening to the soft whistle of the wind. He wished, in that moment, that you’d allow him entry into your home. You were cuddled up in bed sobbing, wishing you could hear your little cats annoyingly cute pur again. You felt silly, but a loss is a loss, and this one hit home. 

Thomas didn’t know anything about the loss of your cat. And to the heartless man, you’d imagine he didn’t give much of a fuck. But the truth was, when your heart ached, his did too. But ten times harder. 

It was the fourth day of you barricading yourself in your house when he knocked on your door early in the morning. 

“Y/N!” He shouted as loud as he possibly could, “I swear to God, if you don’t open this fuckin’ door, I’ll get Moss’s boys to come and break the door down!” At this point, Thomas was worried you had slipped in the bath or something ridiculous like that. But hey, you were ridiculous like that. 

You walked towards the door in your four-day-old clothes and pulled open the door. Immediately, seeing you, Thomas grinned widely before noticing that you were completely disheveled. At first, he thought you were drunk, and then, he noticed that you were walking completely fine into your home. He frowned, entering your home. “Hey...” He began.

“Thomas-” You spun around and looked up at the lad. “I-I don’t wanna talk, I just, I lost my cat, and-”

“What?!” He shrieks, sincerely shocked. 

You gaze up at him, puzzled. “Yeah.”

“Oh my God, y/n.” Before you knew it, you were being embraced by the Peaky Blinders gang member. “I’m so sorry...” 

You sniffled, squirming a little under his arms. In that moment, you forgot how allergic Tommy was to your cat, and how you would have to tell him over and over again to not rub his eyes. You mouth went dry remembering that, Thomas would bring these disgustingly smelly sardines and throw them on the floor to get the cat out of your bedroom when you’d two make passionate love. 

In that moment, you realize that this just as much of a loss to him as it might be to you...

“Why didn’t you open the door for me?” He asked once convincing you to lay down in bed. He laid under you, running his hands down your back. It was soothing, and as you snuggle your head into his chest, you can’t help but deeply regret not opening the door for him so many days ago. 

“I just thought you wouldn’t care too much,”

“I was worried.” He whispers, looking up at the ceiling. Really worried. 

“I’m sorry.” She looked up at him, “I thought you were leaving for London on Tuesday.” Two days ago. 

“I was but I cancelled.” He defensively agues. 

“Why?” 

“When you didn’t open the door for me, I thought the worst happened. I couldn’t get on the train knowing I didn’t say goodbye to you. I needed to know you were okay.” 

“But you,” You catch your bottom lip with your teeth, meeting those baby blues, “You need to work...” 

“I need you more, Y/N.”

You sniffled, looking up at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t open the door for you-”

“Hush...” He saw the tears fill your eyes and quickly leaned down and kissed your forehead. “You have no idea how much I care about you...” He swore to her, shaking his head. “You’re my everything.” 

Your heart sits in your throat as you cling onto him. Your fingers rest over his back, he holds you tightly. You snuggle into his arms, resting your head in the crook of his neck now, he gently strokes your back. 

“I love you.” He breathes into your hair, kissing the top of your head. 

[calumhood-imagines]

“This is the opposite of what i told you to do.”

Anon: can you do 5. “this is the opposite of what i told you to do.”

Calum’s POV

“So, uh, Cal.” Ash grabs my attention. “Where’s Y/N?” He asks. “She’s, uhhhhh, what time is it?” I look at my phone for the time, “Probably sleeping at the moment.” “Is she coming to the show tomorrow?” “Dunno. She never confirmed nor denied.” I just shrug my shoulders, going back to my laptop. “Are you guys ever gonna go public?” Luke leans forward next to me. “We will soon I’m sure.” I shrug them off. “What’s the issue?” Mike asks. “She’s,” I close my laptop, “Just not ready to be in the spotlight next to me.” I sigh. “What is she embarrassed of you or us or the fans?” Ashton asks offensively. “It’s not that.... She’s afraid all she’s going to receive is hate, from the fans.” “Ohhhhhhhh..” The boys said in unison. “Fair enough.” Michael says. “Are you okay with that?” Luke looks at me. “I have to be. I'm okay with us private or public. It’s Y/N that has to get used to this kind of publicity.” 

Y/N’s POV

“The boys and I were talking,” He starts saying. I turn to look at him, “Yeah?” “They just kept asking when we are gonna go public. Y’know, our relationship.” He points from me to him. I pursed my lips together. “I know you’re not ready. Just want you to give it a thought.” He pats my knee, going back to watching tv. I lean back next to him, “How important is it for you that we go public?” His mouth goes into a frown, “I mean, it’s not that important to me, but I feel like I have to be a whole different person around fans and my friends in public. That’s what’s important, I want to be myself. And to be myself, I want to be able to hold your hand, and kiss you in public. I want to be able to hug you and have you sit on my lap in public. I want you to come see my and the boys play concerts with the other boys’ girlfriends. I want to be a normal couple.” He finally admits. I leaned forward, fidgeting my fingers, knowing he’s been feeling like this since day 1. “Just,” He grabs my hands to stop fidgeting, and holds them in his, “Just forget about it.” He gives me a weak smile. “It’s not that important.” He leans back onto the couch watching tv. I lean back onto him and his arms wrap around my back. The feeling of guilt starts forming in my chest. Once he kisses the top of my head and lays his head on mine, the guilt just builds and builds. 

Later that day, as I was finishing up dishes, Calum walks into the kitchen. “I’m going to head out. Have to get ready for the show. I’ll be back later tonight. Don’t wait up.” He kisses my forehead. Before he walks out the door, “Wait,” He turns around. “I’ll go with you.” His smile goes ear to ear. “You’re going to come?” I nod, smiling because he’s happy. “Yeah, I haven’t been to a show in a while.” He gets all giddy, rushing me to get my stuff and we head out. “Wow there’s already fans out here.” I look passing by the front of the venue. “Yeah, it’s always like that.” As he drives to the back of the venue to sneak in. He gets out of the car first and grabs his stuff coming over to my side. He looks around before opening my door and lays his leather jacket over my head, as we always did in public, so no one can see me. We ran inside and I ran right into Ashton. “Woah there.” He catches me. His facial expression changing when he sees me, “Y/N!! You’re here! That’s great!!” he hugs me, saying hi to Calum. I watch Ashton whisper in his ear and Cal just shake his head no. “Well, that’s ok.” Ash says out loud, patting his back. We follow him into the back room where the rest of the boys were with their girlfriends. We all said our hellos. The girls and I started talking and catching up while the boys did their thing getting into the zone. 

I turn to look at the boys doing some weird stuff, dancing and singing. The girls go back to their guys and sits with them. Cal comes sits next to me, wrapping his arm around me, smiling really big. “Good day today mates, I might say.” “We haven’t even done the show yet Calum.” Luke laughs. “I know, but so far, it’s been a good day.” He smiles down at me. “Plans for after the show boys??” Ashton sings. We all laugh at the only single person in the group. “Party??” He continues, raising his cup in the air. All the boys raise their cups in the air, standing up and cheersing. They all sit back down and I watch Luke and Michael taking pictures with their girlfriends. I watch Ashton jam out by himself, looking at himself in the mirror. I turn to look at Cal who was already looking at me, smiling still. “Whatcha thinking?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “Maybe.....” I turn to look at the other couples again. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we went public..” I turn back, to him giving me a funny face. “Are you okay?” He raises his eyebrow. “I was just thinking, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if people knew. I mean, I can handle the fans.” His eyes light up with happiness, “Really? Are you positive?!” I nod at him. He gets up and starts jumping up and down. 

Everyone starts focusing on Calum yelling in excitement. Ashton turns around, joining him on the jumping and yelling. Then Michael and Luke do the same. All 4 boys jumping and yelling in a circle, like girls. “What are we jumping about?” Michael asks thru the screams. “Y/N and I are going to go public!!!” Calum yells at the top of his lungs. The boys stop jumping and looks at me with their mouth wide open. The girls jump out of their seats, jumping up and down with Calum. After they finally run out of energy, they all sit down in exhaustion. All of them out of breath, “Great fucking day guys. Great fucking day.” Calum breaths out, kissing my cheek. “Yeah okay, just, don’t go screaming it out to the world just yet. Just let it happen. No more jackets over my head, no more stay in monthiversary dinners, no more not going to the clubs. Ok? We just let it happen.” “Anything for my gal.” He kisses me again. “Do NOT go screaming it into the world.” I point my finger at him and he laughs. 

The show begins, and they start singing a few songs. In the middle of the concert, they start doing shoutouts. “Shout out to my girlfriend of 11 months who is in the audience tonight!” My mouth goes wide when he says that. He points up into the right balcony where the girls and I were and says, “I love you Y/N.” Pointing and looking straight at me. “AWWWWWWWWWWWWW” The girls in the audience sing, looking up at me. “I hope you guys love her as much as I do.” He says as the girls start AWWWWing again. “Yes, love is in the air.” Luke says, looking up at the girls. Michael doing the same. “This is for you.” And they start playing Valentine. 

After the show, the boys are already back stage and we are making our way to them. I start filming as we enter the backroom. I saw Calum lying on the couch, on his phone. “Mr. Hood.” I say, and he turns to me, a smile forms on his face. I approach him with the camera on him. “What do you have to say for yourself? You went and screamed it to the world!” He starts laughing. 

“The total opposite of what I asked you to do..... This is the opposite of what i told you to do.” He just looks at me like he was planning it all along. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” He sits up, pulling me against him.  “I’m just a happy lad now. I feel invincible.” He starts hugging me. I slide down and sit on his lap, “I said,” I pout, “I know what you said. But it’s my turn to wear the pants in this relationship. I couldn’t wait to tell everyone. Is that a crime?” I look at his goofy smile. I kiss his cheek. “Guess we’re public now. At least, just 25,000 fans out there, for now.” “Oh, I just posted about us on my instagram.” He shows me his phone of his post of us. I punch him in the arm, “You went and screamed it to the world again!” “It’s a good day today mates. Good day!” He yells, raising his cup in the air, everyone else following. He looks at me, his face 3 inches from mine, “Great fucking day.” He smiles, leaning in to kiss my lips. I guess the other 2 couples were doing the same cause I just heard, “Fucking hell.” from Ashton. 

[elizabethrobertajones]

14x03 watching notes

Just finished watching and said, out loud and to no one: “Awww Jack.”

(This is not a spoiler, he’s just so sweet.)

-

Hallo, I am watching from bed despite having 3rd hand inherited a 2nd monitor over the weekend so theoretically my watching experience would be back to giant comfortable side-typing glory.

But comfy.

Easily accessible stuffed toys because Bobo Fucking Berens in Dabb era has made me cry more at this dumb show in the last couple of years than I cried in the previous ten.

Expectations: it's our Dean episode to make up for no Dean until now, and also Jody is there to see Sam's beard, and also Cas continues to be party!Cas, and Jack's shirts get darker and darker.

-

Side note: I think I was rushing out the door before I could talk about our lil Nougat of Denmark properly last episode where he was all, so we're killing my uncle then, and Cas was all D: D: D: D: D: who raised you. (Dean. Dean did. In this regard the boy is his father's son.) This, of course, is another Shakespearean irony than is being returned to Dean via Jack.

The point of this focus is very much to show Jack vs Cas mindsets on it when we're getting Dean returned to us, and I assume considerably more nuance is being added to the story. But for now, Jack being ready to kill his father to kill his uncle because his father was ready to kill him to kill the ghosts he saw of his enemies in Jack is more than enough of a pile of tragedy level angst to be working with.

I just need it to be clear that as far as I'm concerned, Jack is working in a completely different genre from EVERYONE ELSE around him, and the fact that it's the protagonist of a tragedy is fairly alarming, as it's a mindset that Sam, Dean and Cas have hurdled over since season 5/6 and though Dean still assumes he'll die bloody, he is at least capable of dreaming of a happy ending, and a lessening of the angst load has allowed that. Their personal stakes in the story are dwindling, in a sense, while Jack has showed up with like FOUR FATHERS and an evil uncle, which is so much potential family angst Shakey would have exploded. "Wait you can just addeth extra fathers thence addeth extra angst!?!?"

Yes my dude, yes.

-

*hits play* *Sam ruggedly cocks his pistol* You're stealing this whole shtick from Dean and I think it is time for the angst that you were the one dramatically cocking a gun and being the yes reductive heteronormative blah blah penis of the dynamic while Dean was not there to do it.

-

Oh no we immediately start with more Jack angst recap and aside from everything I just said I remembered that Bobo personally murdered me in 13x03 with the Jack n Sam stuff and here we are a year later.

Mr Stark I don't feel so good

-

THE BEARD EXCHANGE IS LITERALLY THE OPENING SCENE. BOBO I LOVE YOU. Thank you for breaking the tension and immediately drawing attention to how Sam has been busy and miserable. I think 14x01 set up well that every time he even had a moment to sigh his phone would ring again, and hence the beard appears as Sam eskews personal grooming and comfort in exchange for finding his brother. Jody is gonna draw attention to it at some point too because we have the promo shot of her nice peach fuzz-ing him, and I sincerely hope this is bookends to the episode and the next episode Sam is clean shaven with no comment except Jody prodded him in the face, and let me tell you only Bobo has me fantasising about the narrative framing of an episode like this.

God i'm a nerd

Anyway more seriously, this exchange coming out of the blue has a clear motive: Dean is up and about, still so freshly de-Michaeled he's in a waistcoat (and LORDY the only other scene he was in a waistcoat? 7x12's ending scene where Sam turns into such a moron in Jody's presence he's waving blushily at the door still AFTER SHE HAS GONE). Complaining about not being able to eat and sleep might be a sense of hyperbole to catch given the lack of elapsed time, but it also warns us that this might be how Dean reacts to being un-Michaeled. Or would he not, given he's up and about and snarking like his old self? How damaged will he be and how much can he repress into snark? He is playing off the very idea that this experience will have been damaging to his psyche and of course Michael did a ton of stuff which was expressly tuned to BE damaging to his psyche, then punched a mirror and shattered Dean's reflection for extra emphasis.

So all this question of how Dean is doing is loaded into the very opening line before he's even taken off his waistcoat, or of course, had enough time to truly eat/sleep/develop massive tells of the psychological trauma he may or may not have taken.

Obviously the show wouldn't be the show if he were fine, so I'm taking it as a question posed.

Then of course it slides into Bro Banter to prove it's Dean, remind us JUST how much we missed this snarky genre savvy fucker, and to make Sammy smile.

-

Also we're mocking Jared for being friends with that one Duck Dynasty guy who Jared's fans insist is the least awful of the bunch and also who you end up hanging out with when you're most embedded in the Texan stardom scene rather than living in Hollywood or whatever.

(God imagine being famous and from Atlanta and sticking true to your roots and you end up with the Queer Eye guyses as your BFFs instead)

-

Listen Bobo showed his socialist party membership card on twitter, he has no fucks to give about waving his politics around and I love him.

-

"If you're going to ask if I'm okay, you don't have to" (I am making fun of your beard, what more do I have to give you, bro?)

Buddy, I have been watching your face for over a decade and you have the sad tired pink eyelids of a Dean who is both tired and miserable.

-

Oh NO Dean walks into the main room expecting his comfy quiet library and war room full of 3 trusted family faces, and finds the bustle of Boss Sam's operation. The upcoming noise of these people before he turns the corner is an immediate warning that we should have expected this as dramatic irony for Dean's comfort levels from the start, and now he's back, well.

Panicked eyes.

He needs quiet recovery with his peeps, not alarming sudden change. A rug pull immediately after possession is a terrible thing to deal with. I've been wondering if this is a full reverse of season 6 for Dean - from the trustability of the hunter compound to the fact he lives in it, to the Samuel running it. But the effect is the same. Dean comes back from quiet time off to a change he can't handle and Sam in a new position in a family/hunter heirarchy. In this case, not Samuel's soulless goon, but a fully bearded Boss Sam King Of Hell Sir who Runs Shit competently in a way we the viewer trust implictly as Sam having Done Well, and also that the AU peeps might be a bit rough or untrained in some ways but 100% reliable in that they really do have no ulterior motive and every reason to think of Sam as an AU Moses who popped up and walked them to another land of safety and comfort.

-

Like, Dean, welcome back, you have Hamlet, Moses and Mobby to deal with. Cas seems to be the same as you left him, though. If somehow, impossibly, squintier.

-

"Right, Chief told us"

GOD I MISSED JENSEN'S MICRO EXPRESSIONS

You know how Michael sucks? No micro expressions. Guy doesn't have an anxious bone in his body.

This little bundle of neuroses I have chosen to love is full on having a meltdown on the other hand.

-

"Dean? Is it really you?" "Hey kid"

HUG. THE. BOY.

I suppose this is better than last year when he had a hug from a shapeshifter and had to wait to episode 6 for a hug from his father, but REALLY this season has been tormenting me with how bad Jack feels and even a hug from his gramgram isn't enough to satisfy how he should have been hugged by Sam, Cas and now Dean already this season.

We're only on epiode 3 and he's already got more hugs than he had this point last year. Deep  breaths, Lizzy

-

Children need a lot of cuddles to affect their development into sensitive people okay? Dean got a lot of hugs up to age 4 and Sam basically did not, and he's an awkward moose and Dean is snuggly. I want Nougat to have the same development into a sensitive lad because he has EIGHTEEN FUCKING PARENTS AND NONE OF THEM HUG HIM

-

CAS HEARD 'DEAN' FROM ACROSS THE BUNKER, ARRIVES IN A BLUR

-

GOOD NOUGAT, HUG DEAN.

But like, dude, Cas just showed up at a run and made the gooiest eyes at Dean who made them back, and now you're officially cockblocking, so naff off, kid

-

I watched with prayer hands and Cas just got gooier and Dean got sulky he didn't get a Cas hug and this is officially the worst. Bobo, you let me down, my guy.

-

I mean no, Cas's gooey eyes were

...

Cas doesn't do gooey eyes. He squints. Squintily.

Who is this guy

-

Lol Mobby aren't in the episode because they stayed back to clean up - Sam gets stammery to Jack. Is he scared to imply they're maybe banging because he finds it weird but everyone else present is an even worse audience to announce this to for one reason or another (historically coped much better with the concept of dad sex when discovering adam and also didn't drive the car off the road into a ditch on finding out mary banged ketch), or is he trying to protect Jack from the concept of Michael leaving a pile o dead bodies for one reason or another, knowing Michael is his rage button?

-

He was the one who dealt with Jack trying to stay back in the AU to fight Mikey instead of just coming home.

-

"Speaking of clean up, I need a shower" *gestures vaguely* *Cas opens his mouth like why did I have a reaction image here? Do you want -* *closes mouth* *dean leaves*

Guys. You fucking suck. Go take a shower together and work things out.

-

"Still okay, I promise" *bisexual finger guns at Cas*

cut to: Cas squinting after Dean like "is he implying something"

"..."

"I really feel like he was trying to communicate something to me"

"..."

"I have no idea what Dean just hinted loudly to me twice in short succession and now that he has gone to shower I guess I will never know what he was attempting to communicate to me"

-

"Where's Nick?" "Hopefully not in this episode. Let's just say he needs some time because he's in a dark place and hope that's ALL we have to say about him"

-

Oh no. "Sam. Dean. How is he really?"

Cas has a one track mind.

But then we get the shot of Dean opening his door and they're still talking about him over the top of it, but it's that same shadowed shot of himself silhouetted in the doorway, the inner darkness represented by his room... Sam went into his and stripped himself of the tools in his pocket but before he could sleep, Jo called and set them all off again with the next lead.

Now Dean opens his door and turns on the light so we can see his inner self in a moment of peace and privacy, but essentially with a voice over about how he's super not okay.

-

Just how we left it. You can't even tell that for the last 2 episodes/3 weeks Cas has been coming in and snuggling your pillow every time he's not in a scene because where the fuck was he inbetween scenes in 14x02

-

God I have missed lingering shots of Dean's room, equating his inner space to his inner feelings. *paws lovingly at the shot* Dean's room all tidy and orderly and as he left it, yet feeling somehow very very empty and off-kilter in an unfamiliar way because he hasn't been here for so long.

-

It was all serious then guitar music started playing as Dean started stripping

and look

I saw the promo pics

you saw the promo pics

some person in the audience is like... why are we lingering on Dean getting undressed alone in his room while guitar music kicks up?

-

Is this what all that winking and finger gun action was about?

-

(Dean didn't wink but I took a lil break to chat with Mittens and the moment has evolved into him gurning at the door for like a minute trying to remind Cas that this means he joins him in the shower in 5)

-

"Fuck this shirt in particular"

I still think it was the audacity of wearing a bow tie that dragged Dean to the surface last episode

-

I love how Dean changes from this plain white t-shirt which is completely clean and shiny, into his normal dark dark brown shirt between scenes. I hope he got to shower. Whatever happened, this scar could have said "Ha ha ha I'm behind you", and he would have finished stripping down right to the skivvies then started fresh with his own boxerbriefs before freaking out and rushing to show the others.

-

But yeah, he's PISSED and embarrassed about Michael. You don't throw a guy's shirt on the floor like that unless you feel SERIOUSLY used, and here we end up with a creepy sort of STD metaphor, complete with the visual similarity to the clap: https://www.giantmicrobes.com/uk/products/clap.html

Bad fling, Dean?

-

Poker!witch gave Sam the clap in the episode which was totally not a metaphor about Sam getting the clap then beating poker!witch at his own game like nearly 20 episodes before he was possessed by Lucifer then beat him at his own game.

-

"Do the whole vulcan mind meld thing" Listen, James T Kirk, you can't just MAKE yourself one of the most iconic slash pairings of all time by comparing - wait

wait a minute

*Checks slash history books and sees them as a dictionary definition or two*

-

Anyway.

-

Dean's so eager for Cas to jump into his head. Just, like. Again. We all said it but immediately after that shirt throw? It REALLY emphasises that Dean sees Cas in this transcendant way to being used by an angel that got in his head. And left an STD mark on his arm. He can just immediately think, well, that sucked. But here's MY angel and I'm just gonna rev myself up and present my head for inspection and this isn't even a thing I'm concerned about. Hit me, big guy.

-

Oh come the fuck on Bobo.

I didn't have time to hit pause to have a heart attack about Cas putting his hand over The Scar, the one on the wrong shoulder, to get a clearer reception, because there's a HISTORY in scars, okay? They leave a mark and to the discerning poker and prodder like Cas that history can be read in the mark... And Cas sees... Michael being stabbed by a spear. Not just, like. Seeing Michael being stabbed by a spear, mind you. He sees it in a Bobo episode in a way wildly reminiscent of Patience seeing Claire/Kaia getting stabbed by a VERY SIMILAR LOOKING SPEAR and getting her Wayward introduction that way, when the whole Dreamhunter thing ended up being a massive Destiel parallel and Kaia getting stabbed already mirrored CAS getting stabbed by a spear (Michael's, natch) in 12x12, never mind the other stuff.

So Bobo has just built up a Destiel Dreamhunter sandwich, with Destiel nonsense either side, complete with bonus shoulder scar imagery, and a nice gooey dreamhunter centre.

Bobo, if you hadn't noticed, is really really really really reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaally bitter he isn't off writing Wayward Sisters and hanging with his girls.

There's still a bunch of stuff to add up here, about why and who and how it all connects, which would involve dragging in these other spear-y episodes to assemble the full picture, so I'm just gonna hit play now I'm recovered from the shock :P

-

Oh dude it was a hooded figure who even LOOKED like bad Kaia and tbh at this point I'd say maybe even was?

Like, how many pronged spears are out there anyway and Jody's dealing with it so is it local? Did Michael pop up on Kaia like hey so you and I are both from alternate universes, what do you wa - OW FUCK JESUS FUKKIN CHRIST -

-

"Dean, who was that?"

Dean recognised her, and Cas was mind-melded enough with him to know that Dean did... Good grief I can not handle Dean and Cas existing on an emotional plane.

It's enough to mean they're the ones who call Jody with a tip off for HER rather than months of them asking her to help THEM.

-

Introducing us back to the Wayward world - South Dakota mug, and a text that Claire is a little angel who has been training her gals and even did the laundry.

I'm so happy

-

Eyebrow raise

God, Kim Rhodes is the most beautiful woman on the whole show and that's saying something considering, like. Ruthie. Lisa Berry. Something about the way she uses her face is so full of intelligence and humour that I am HELPLESS in her presence

-

God damn I want that fabled Girls' Night episode. Billie comes along too on a night off.

-

Rowena calls her up for chats sometimes these days, they're actually really good pals.

-

Sam you fucking moron you can't even finish a sentence in her presence. Just slap Dean on his WOUNDED arm and throw the ball to him.

-

Everyone leaning over the phone... This is the closest Cas has ever come to Jody.

"Jody, that's the good news."

Jody recognises that gravelly voice and snaps to holyshitanangel attention. "What's up?"

The implicit thing here is that Cas and Jody know each others' voices and are on at least chatting acquaintance. I would like to think they're invited over for beer at the same time but we have no proof..................... yet. This is Bobo on a "fuck you" rampage so I'm just, like, gonna wait see.

-

Bad Kaia has been going around ripping heads off things. DAMN, GIRL.

-

Considering the placement of the pronging was ~random~, in the sense that she can meat fork you anywhere, that means the placement of it on the meat of Dean's arm where the handprint once was on the other is even MORE significant in a metaphorical sense, of writing about "the scar" in the way of giving it a mystical property tied into the wider framework of all these relationships and events at once. The amount piled onto a simple stabbing is unbelievable, and the use of the scar as the vector for all this is definitely the byline of the episode given the title and all. It's brought Kaia back to us, given Jody the clue she needs.

And more dramatic irony that Claire was just asking to help, and Jody was like DEFINITELY HUMAN, SO ALL MINE. HAHAHA. And now we know, no, it's not all "human", it's bad!Kaia and that makes her CLAIRE'S.

-

I keep stopping to seal clap

-

it's 7:20am

-

Cas is packing up to leave with them!!!

And Jack looms blurrily into the background in his darkest t-shirt yet. And he's been RAPIDLY cycling through them.

In a sense this is good laundry practice, in order that you have a full load of lights followed by a full load of darks.

Metaphorically, however, this is BAD.

Jack sounds pissed they're all wearing jackets and packing bags, and he's wandering around in an over-sized dark grey t-shirt (one of Dean's? AUBobby's? It doesn't look like his standard fare which fits his body, this makes him look SMOL), with no idea we were off to kill the wizard.

Let's be charitable and say he wants to meet Jody and hang out with Kaia again.

But more likely Bobo is once again messing with Jack's inherent darkness in his presentation, especially as right now, once again while Jack is being The Sweetest Little Cookie, meeting his grandparents for ice tea and looking through the family photo album with misty eyes, he is ALSO Prince Nougat of Denmark and this is causing some serious darkness slippage because, well, revenge. Revenge is bad, kiddo. Don't need a ghost of your dead father (hey Dean's back) to tell you that.

The accusatory tone is enough to warn us that Jack's not doing so well and I'm going to assume drags Cas away from a mission with Dean followed by cooldown eating pizza and watching flicks with the girls.

-

"Kaia's killer is in Sioux Falls" Buddy. "He, she or it can hurt Michael" BUDDY.

I suppose they're bringing Cas because Bad Kaia kicked their asses and they assume Cas is the same height as her pet/metaphor for Kaia's inner fucked-up-ness so he can probably fight it??

-

"Michael's my enemy too! I fought him. For MONTHS." JACK sweetie. You can't just go around like, having an enemy list. And comparing it with your collective fathers' list.

The line about bringing Kaia into it and being responsible for what happened to her is good, though. Jack's got a social consciousness and that is lovely because he keeps doubting his goodness but when it comes down to it he wants to meet his grandparents and feels bad that Kaia got dragged into things and killed.

Of course, not realising this is Bad Kaia, they're all off to get MORE revenge on that thing that killed her.

-

Aw, Dean, no, don't point out how smol he is. He's wearing a huge baggy shirt to emphasise it already.

"I didn't - I didn't MEAN to be a dick" Whoops. Well, you were. You also missed the part where Jack went from smol precious child to angsty teen.

Fun fact: Hamlet was supposed to be like 18 or whatever, but because a famous actor wanted the lead role but was like, idk, 50, Shakey bumped up Hamlet's age a lil so he could get away with it, making him more of, like, a giant manbaby who is still functionally a teen in all ways except he keeps getting portrayed by middle aged men.

So, of course, we have our one and a half year old Nougat who is a 29 year old actor now getting into his terrible teens, and if that isn't the funnest nugget of trivia...

... then you are not as much of a nerd as I am about irony, coincidence, and neat overlaps of thingies.

Point is: get me a version of Hamlet where the other expected actors are adults of course, but Horatio and Hammy and his squad are dumb teens.

-

Lol Bobo just randomly introduces a cool lady hunter who is dragging a random victim of a hex down into the bunker to be healed by an angel. That poor girl is going to have a story to tell.

A lot just happened in a few seconds but at least Jack, who has stormed off for his nth teenage sulk of the season, now has a Cas trapped in the Bunker with him.

Dean n Sam gonna get their asses kicked by Bad Kaia

honestly is this just a ploy not to keep Cas where Jack is, but to keep Misha away from stunt fighting?

Anyway Dean communicates most of the above to Cas silently, and tells him that he should stay with Jack and also heal this girl and they have the most married eye conversation about what  needs to be done, which is wonderful that they've been having these silent conversations all Dabb era but this is definitely the wordiest so far. I mean one of their more recent was just "Dean I can hear that cowboy music in your head" "what cowboy music?"

-

DEAN DOESN'T EVEN LOOK THRILLED TO BE DRIVING BABY AGAIN.

Sam mostly looks concerned he's hitting 80mph

I don't know anything about American speed limits but this is an alarming speed to me because in the UK 70 is usually like, the Most, and we don't have enough long straight roads that when there's no speed limit it's ever really recommended to go super fast because you will flip your car and die because all our roads are one and a half car length wide and extremely wiggly. And our motorways are congested enough you're more likely to be in a traffic jam than top speed anyway :P

-

I love that Dean measures people by their favourite Spice Girl. Hey Dean the 90s called, they want their pop culture relevance back.

You gay icon you.

(I'm reminded of 12x07 and Bobo and a similar conversation where Dean listed off all his manly manly historical faves)

-

Dean thinks Cas can handle it back home :')

-

"Something huge happened and you won't really talk about it!"

Okay Sam, he's traumatised and that's surface text.

You do realise the entire massive subtext is his repression and yet another metaphor for some huge queer experience and that this is the same conversation as 10x04 when he was grumbling into his chin about being embarrassed about what he did with Crowley? You realise that right?

Stop poking him about it, he'll talk when he's ready to open up. In the mean time he's feeling used and ashamed that this fling didn't go as planned after the whole first flirtation with waving his wings around and killing Lucifer where it all seemed fun to embrace his ~true self~ and have a crack at being a Flaming Michael Sword.

-

Also of course, we might just take him on his word that he really does NOT remember most of everything that happened because if he was truly repressing that much he wouldn't have been so gung ho for Cas to read his mind earlier but this mood pre-dates that so even if he remembered everything when Cas poked his brain, which seems unlikely as Cas saw it too, the wider sulk about his Clap Scar is more than just this.

-

It's a common experience, though, that Dean is repressed and moody, and Sam barrels in there trying to make him talk about it before he's ready, so the pressing is in character, regardless, that Sam doesn't trust that Dean is telling the whole truth and that there's some huge secret he's holding back.

The best part of queer subtext is that whether there is one or not it works - if there isn't, it's a metaphor for the obvious. If there is, same as above but the metaphor is concretely attached to whatever Dean is not telling Sam, and that in turn then becomes a part of the queer subtext, offered up on a platter to tell us more about how Dean is handling his post-possession shame of being, essentially, roofied after thinking he'd agreed to a consensual fling with a dude on his terms of entry and no strings attached, no walk of shame like he did when he was undressing earlier.

-

Poor guy can not catch a break. Shoulda hooked up with Aaron when you had the chance so your first time having a dude in you wasn't such a big deal, but just a nice booty call to keep in your phonebook. Now it's all Crowley this, Michael that...

-

"We need to deal with it." "Okay, I'm literally going EIGHTY to deal with it"

Dean, that's.

that's not therapy

"How can I be running from something when I'm RACING towards it" "I don't know, it's kinda your thing"

Sammy boy you have been trapped in the same car as Dean for way too long. Your analysis is getting deep. Deep deep cuts. Leave him alone.

-

I mean this is a guy who dealt with a gay panic by hooking up with Crowley and singing karaoke for him so.

-

"I  just *need* you to talk to me. Slow down."

Oh SAM you said a good and interesting combo of words there. Dean, go 70 instead of 80, give us some time to feel this out because I've been FREAKED and, for you, you got a time skip but I lived it all real time and it SUCKED, and I'm hurt too by this. Reminder: our family does not do well with LOSING each other, and this is every conversation we've ever had post-thinking that happened, and I did things responsibly and grew a beard and became Boss of a bunch of peeps and also King of Hell but we'll talk about that later... Like, slow down. I have my issues too. There's 2 of us in this car and you can't go 80 and time skip to the end of this conversation either. Not when I have 3 weeks of angst packed into it.

-

Also: classic Sam projection. Trying to get Dean to open up because HE has pain he wants to air, instead of just bringing up how he felt, he tries to get Dean to open up, and when this continues, as always, not to be how Dean deals with things, Sam gets upset because it never gives him the opening to talk about his shit until it's an argument...

You could have just started the convo, sorry about the beard, I really mean it when I say I haven't had a moment to myself for 3 weeks, it's been HELL and funny I should mention Hell, er, did you know you can kinda just declare yourself king these days... heh

-

At least he's using racing metaphors about wanting to catch up and also, like, catch up

Dean responds to the sport metaphors

-

Dean is like nah call Jody we're almost there. I skipped ahead.

-

Look, I'm delivering you to your boo, what more do you want?

Jody smiles at the sight of them in a way which is almost as revolting as Cas smiling at seeing Dean again

-

Hugs!

Send Jody to the Bunker to HUG OUR BOY

-

"How'd you do it?" "What, me vs some assbag archangel? Who would you pick?" "You, every time."

And this, guys, is how Jody is never, ever patched into their angst, because they present a narrative where Dean just kinda chucked off Mikey and sent him packing and it's all cool and he's a hero.

Jody has at multiple points threatened to beat Dean into submission in order to hear a true version of how he's doing and he has so far not given in and sat at her kitchen table with a box of tissues to sob through his crap, but I hold out eternal hope like the fool I am.

Anyway it's also telling RIGHT AFTER that last conversation where Sam was probing Dean so intensely, that this is the version of "I'm fine" that Dean is going with, and even though Sam KNOWS there's more to it, this is the wall Dean is projecting, even to him. Even when he knows Dean is freaked by it and doesn't know all the details.

-

Jody goes up like 18 pitches "Heeey I liiIIIiiike it!" she squeaks, forcefully tweaking Sam's beard because "nice peach fuzz" is too understated both for Jody and the volume of facial hair Sam has produced without comment until Dean came back and Jody showed up.

-

Dean has never been so offended in his life

-

*Jody continues giggling to herself while Sam desperately looks for a normal conversation*

-

AHAHA "I haven't been home since I talked to her........... I may be avoiding her"

Yeaaaah, bringing up that it's not just a normal human beheading and weird stab mark, but ALSO a KAIA-RELATED ONE maaay be... too much.

-

i'm going to be honest I've been so thrilled about everything I forgot to check what cast is flashing up on the screen

-

Anyway there is very much a subtext to Jody's avoidance of telling Claire what's going on that she knows how much she loved Kaia and how much of an issue this is - even if it's gonna be for revenge, because they don't know it's Bad Kaia - this is something where Claire's feelings make a MESS.

-

Bobo gets in Sam's serial killer thing, Dean is staring into the void like am I still even here or am I in hell. Is this a hell that Michael conjured. Mikey. Hey. Mikey. I figured it out. We're done here. Let's go back to regular torture. Michael. This is the bad place. Michael.

-

Dean stomps off into the woods because waiting for daybreak means being stuck in the same room as Jody and Sam flirting for a few hours.

-

Jody firmly pokes Sam in the chest with a map.

-

Sam.

-

A raven caws in the background, and Jack is wearing layers, the darkest shirt yet, a thick corduroy jacket in the style of early Sam, and is packing a bag.

-

He wrote a note and his handwriting is as disgustingly adorable as I thought it might be.

Alex wrote "Jack" with a cutesy backwards K in an autograph for someone who requested it at a con and I thought that was a cute detail but not how Jack would write and the real story - and I assume like with others they made him write it in character - is much more nuanced. His letters are competently shaped like he knows exactly how they should be, but shakily written, like he's not used to holding a pen, because, well, he isn't. He's not developed the muscle memory for it, just as he hasn't for fighting and all the other stuff, because in may ways he IS still a smol toddler with no life skills. His capital letters are huge and precise, like he knows he has to write them big, but disproportionate - putting so much emphasis on the titles of the people around him, the capital letters a metaphor for their influence on him. There's something clearly unconfident about writing and yet for all that obviously written by someone intelligent enough not to make basic errors of backwards letters and other things. He knows exactly how he is SUPPOSED to do it, but the execution is shakey, and disproportionate and generally looks unschooled and painfully revealing of his entire state of being.

-

Is this the scene where Bobo said out loud to an empty room, awww Jack.

-

I've been dreading that since the hiatus.

Maybe I should dig up that post and use it as the title for this one.

-

Triss is gonna die, Jack stopped by the stairs up out the Bunker in the war room, heard and saw Cas moving around, then in a fit of conscience or missing him already or something, stopped by to open the door and look in.

They have DEFINITELY expanded the Bunker set, in the sense that they've attached extra rooms to it or Wanek has sat down and made some parts more standardised, because they've shown off the corridor connections in every episode so far, and in this one we're seeing a never-seen-before connection which actually explains what is behind that window and how it fits. I mean, I'm pretty sure we've seen this particular room a few times, window and all, but never actual connections which show connected sets, so much as scenes starting or stopping there with no transition.

-

"She's been enchanted" "Like sleeping beauty" Jack says with awe "Awwwwwwwwwww" Lizzy says with awww

I honestly can't tell which moment Bobo said "Aw Jack" out loud about because we're getting such a series of them

-

Anyway, Hamlet, the great procrastinator, is distracted away from his mission to kill his uncle.

Not sure about the overlap of hearing things from the other side of a wall but I mean at least he's not going around stabbing people so

-

Jack also seeing all the important work they do for other people, even randos, and Cas getting involved in huntery business, distracted from emotionally nurturing him because of sleeping beauty there, and phoning rowena, doing the work to unknot a spell...

If we get Cas doing spellwork I'm gonna die, it's been Too Long.

-

Cas [squinting]: "Are you going somewhere?" Sleeping Beauty: "ooooww" Jack: "No."

Hon, that was so suspicious you are lucky this is Cas and not one of your other dads.

But. Aww Jack to an empty room.

-

"If I get a vote I'm team stick together" Jody remembers 9x19

Also Sam remembers bad!Kaia kicking their butts. They're on her natural territory

she is the Predator.

-

Sam keeps LOOKING at Jodio.

Look, I just

Cas keeps looking at Dean, Dean keeps looking at Cas

Jam won't stop looking at each other

-

That head is a Warning.

Come no further, mortals

-

I think Bad Kaia lives here

-

Vampires.

they really need to figure out how to biologically identify them except for teeth because they really come up against a lot of dead ones

-

Oh

"I brought tissue samples home, Alex ran them underneath the microscope"

Look, girls supporting girls, I knew what they needed to do before they did it lol

-

Dean: I was stabbed here

-

YAY I went frame by frame before the reveal and that is Kaia's face in there, the hood less spooky than before and more open to reveal her

-

Dean: bout to be stabbed here again

-

Dean finally has the moves to take on Bad Kaia after a season or two with the new stunt guy

but then her hood falls back and he's STUNNED

-

Now everyone is stunned

-

I think they've been using the Wayward Sisters Bad Place soundtrack for this but I'd have to check

the music is so very different and I'm not good at music ear thing

-

Cas: *eye twitches violently* Me: Cas why are you having trouble with this line Cas: "... marked.................... 'gross stuff'"

Cas, internally: Why did I marry into this family

-

Future MoLHunter 100 years later: "Man, this place is sweet, but the filing system is balls to the walls." Other Future MoLHunter: "Babe, you did not read the Winchester Gospels before your initiation?" F MoLHunter: "There is a drawer here marked 'hands of god' and the only thing in there is a pair of chopsticks and a ladel" OF MoL Hunter: Okay I will give you that. -

Me out loud to an empty room: aww Jack

He's so concerned about Sleeping Beauty, and he can't do anything about it but he's curious.

Maybe he CAN fix her and this is how he gets a lil power back.

I hope so because awww Jack being so concerned about her.

This is a Good Procrastination From Revenge

Hamlet, take fucking notes

-

"Is that your dad?" "One of them, yes." Aw Jack

Aw Bobo

Jack's flipping around on family - he's accused them of talking about nick/Lucifer as his father, he's disowned everyone but grampa and grammy Kline, and now he's fondly thinking of his three hero dads

He's really struggling to work out his place and what sort of family set up he belongs to and to be fair, he has so many fucking options and all of them are somewhat disastrous or tragic, so he's 100% in his right to be fuckin confused.

On the other hand Sleepy Beauty has no context so she's gonna assume Cas is gay married with a kid Jack's age and that's like, not untrue.

-

"My mom... but she probably hates me" "Why?" Jack says, horrified at the entire concept that a mom could hate a child, because, well, Kelly's love was COSMIC for him "because I left," she anvils

-

"I was sick of being treated like a kid, and i thought I could make it on my own" Oh boy. She's just expositioning how Jack feels and immediately telling him if he leaves he'll fall in with a witch, who curses her with an AGING spell which will make her old before her time.

I feel like there is probably... a metaphor........... in here...............

-

Also a reverse of Dean's aged down curse, because the girl and her other victims were hansel and greteled.

I had a sudden whim a couple of nights ago to see aged down Dean and current Jack hang out. Bring back Dylan Everett to go play basketball with Jack out on the front step.

-

"Gave us all nice things," she says, clutching at a HUGE EVIL EMERALD PENDANT AROUND HER NECK

Jack.................................

Is that cursed

-

"She said having us there kept her young" She put her own age into that locket

dang I should get a bonus point for bringing up poker!witch before he was relevant

I'm always curious about the show's implications about witches maintaining their youth by sucking it from others, because almost every witch we've met who had a focus on age was doing it for that reason, whether it was eating children or playing poker.

And we have a 300 year old witch chilling around who we don't know anything about when it comes to immortality, except that she has it and she bestowed it on Oskar so it's clearly a spell she can do rather than an inherent trait of reaching a certain level of magic practitionery.

-

"Then it started taking me too. Even faster than the others!" yeah because she killed the witch so she probably has to suck poor sleeping beauty dry in order to regenerate and skulk away and start over somewhere

-

PS: Sleeping Beauty is really doing an amazing performance here. I 100% am in Jack's shoes of being horrified and wanting to protect her

-

"Cas is going to fix this. I promise" Sweetie! Have you ever called him Cas rather than Castiel before? It seems weird. He even wrote castiel on the letter

-

Sam deducts Michael's entire plan off the clue that Alex couldn't detect the vamps in her sciencing, and based on having been attacked by super werewolves.

But why is Michael cleaning up these people?

Unless he's taking threats off the board who would be too cool and powerful and may challenge him...

-

"Doesn't change the plan" "but Dean - "

Dean walks off

Dean has no time for Sam suggesting maybe this is something awful because of Michael that Dean might know about or else be weirdly intimately connected to because of his weird Michael-based condition.

We have no clue what's going on and Sam doesn't like that and Dean's powering through and Jody is hovering in the background like WOW I can see why you leave me out of all your dumb main plot angst normally. Never done me one of these MAIN PLOT ones before. Can we go back to normal MotW where you're low key angsting in the subtext about whatever currently ails you?

-

Jody slaps Sam on the lower back

lower, babe. Lower.

-

Cas does magic, boom purple smoke!

Aw no she's still withered.

Jack, take her necklace off and smash it

because you did the good work of a hunter and talked to her and through being kind discovered what was wrong with her

-

Jody has a phone provider that gets her signal in the wilderness

-

"Claire's been doing so good, but anything connected to Kaia... she's a powder keg"

"FIRST LOVE STRIKES QUICK, AND TO LOSE IT LIKE THAT"

okay no Jody didn't shout it, but Bobo did.

ILY Bobo

I'm like 0% surprised but I am guessing other people who had been less trusting are throwing a complete party to have it textually confirmed like that. I felt like Bobo's intent especially when he went on the record in that stream AND he had been saying already that he shipped it right after Wayward Sisters, that he never ever meant to be coy about Dreamhunter, and confirming that Claire was madly in love with Kaia was a top priority on his fuck you list since he didn't get to write the show he wanted in order to work on this naturally.

-

Sam nods like fair enough, happened to me with Jess, but uh wow okay no i did not - yeah okay yeah

-

"He's not ready for this case" "maybe he needs it"

Jam jam jam jam

I mean

Yeah mature adults discussing issues together and working out how they feel about Dean rage-hunting Bad Kaia

-

hey look it's that one cabin that has been in like every episode of the show in the same way that one little stoney valley was in every episode of BBC Merlin

-

Has she lost her spear??

-

Dean, that was RUDE, you're so horrible to all these versions of Kaia

-

That zoom up on his face is one of the top 10 Dean Is Not Okay zooms of the show

-

So not like "bad cas" or "new bobby" are Dean's definitions for AU peeps - no word on what Charlie is to him, maybe because AU Charlie is a real issue for him to define as he couldn't help treating her like his Charlie.

But Bad Kaia insists that she is to Kaia what she is to me - they're joined in a different way. A way that back in Wayward Sisters was implied to be a dreamwalking connection of a very different sort, something anchoring our Kaia to the bad place and their connection was... weird.

-

"That was an accident. I was trying to kill the blonde" She's remorseful about killing Kaia but upsets them even more by reminding them that she was out for Claire instead.

How about we kill no one, bad Kaia

-

Oh no, Michael keeps sending monsters after her... Now she sounds like the original Kaia just because she's got "always more" things out for her. I suppose Michael learned of her through Dean, found her, and either wants to stop her or capture her because she has universe-crossing dreamwalking abilities, and woooow that will be useful to him.

-

NOOO SLEEPING BEAUTY DIED. THIS IS REALLY BAD. JACK COULDN'T SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVE HEEEEEEEEEER

waaaaaaaaaah

Stop fuelling Nougat having an interesting dark arc about his entire self and purpose and let him just hang around the bunker and watch TV and eat nougat and be hugged. Can we not just have a son who is okay and nothing is wrong with him?

-

Oh no even the random hunter (did I really catch her name as Brunhilda or did I imagine that?) is crying at Jack crying over Sleeping Beauty dying. Cas is contractually obliged not to cry or do complicated stunts but he looks miserable too.

Oh, jack figured out the pendant?

But can they actually save Sleeping Beauty?

-

Sam as usual getting in before I can - "Break her!??!?"

don't you dare hurt Kaia any more, she's already told you what she knows, Michael hurt her, you punched her out with the same face and then threatened her a bunch. She might be a snarky monster-hunting feral woodland weirdo but she's still Kaia-like and you have a history of being completely horrible to Kaia-like girls when you're in a bad place.

-

And it turns out Dean just wants the spear that pronged him, to figure out what it did and how to hurt Michael with it. To go on his own revenge mission that he denied Jack because, guys, we are now in competition for who gets to have the angsty anti-Michael revenge mission. Jack and Dean literally competing to be most angsty about it.

Jack is being considerably more productive even if Dean solved the Kaia mystery.

But yeah. Revenge sucks you guys.

-

Dean you need to eat a snickers and take a rest.

-

smiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirk because fuck you Dean for always hurting me and the other Kaia who is probably also me.

-

Jack is being much smarter.

The smartest cookie.

Who needs powers when you are a good cookie.

-

"She wasn't cursed. This was."

GOOD COOKIE.

-

I vote Jack gets to kill Michael. Dean has lost his Michael killing rights.

-

"You're no different from him. Threats, violence, anything to get what you want." "I am nothing like him."

Hon.

"Yeah you are. And you always have been."

I don't know if Kaia knows or if she's pulling a gambit, but acting like a mystic know it all and reading Dean stone cold in a villain way sure did take some of his rage away into that good old Dean self-loathing and fear, which was one heck of a good chess move regardless of if she can magically read him or not.

No I don't think Dean is these things but Michael is a means of exploring Dean's "blunt little weapon" sort of mindset that he has suffered from because of John's upbringing all this time, and Michael emotionally mauling Dean to the point of being a non-functioning worst version of himself who threatens Kaia (AGAIN) really is an on the nose way to display the sort of trauma that Michael tore into his psyche.

-

Crap I need to go to yoga, but this is too good to rush so even though I don't have much left, I will be back for proper notes in a bit!

-

Him smash magic glowy thing with hammer

just like i told myboy to do!

Cas's hair is ridiculously spiky.

-

"What happened?"

YOU MADE NOUGAT FEEL GOOD ABOUT HIMSELF THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED

Aww jack to an empty room

-

Sam I  have been gone for hours. How have you not tackled Dean to the floor and apologised to Bad Kaia

-

"I saw what you did to her, when you got angry. You shoved your gun in her face." To be fair, at the time Dean had also been emotionally mauled by the feels bear because Jack gave him a vision of Mary being tortured in Hell-equivalent and he was also fucked up beyond belief.

Kaias really are seeing the worst side of him all the time.

-

Bobo likes breaking Dean

-

That was enough to make Dean let go

Also to ask a really good question about how she knows!

I'm way more curious about Kaia than Dean yelling at her :P

-

Then she points out that he's angry and impatient because he's scared, like, duh, but sometimes he needs to be reminded that he can have "weak" emotions like that because he wants to be all tough and on the case and instead he's freaked out because Michael has messed him up completely. Like. Stay home. Help the boy with lore or something. Take a pyjama day.

-

Wheee full flashback!

The early evening light gives it a Bad Place colour tinge, which is awesome.

-

I can't believe Mikey shows up in his hat but not his jacket.

-

He says he's BORROWING Dean here. Hm.

-

Also, what I suspected, that he sensed her around and was just curious. Probably having a "what the fuck that's KAIA!?" from Dean inside him and being like Kaia huh? Time to chat.

-

Mikey do you literally not have your own version of that fuck off huge spear they stabbed Cas with a couple seasons ago, or do you just collect cool spears?

There's something more than usually terrifying about his face in this conversation.

And he now says there's a war coming and thinks something weird like Bad Kaia might appreciate being on his side.

Oh boy.

-

"Wild one" that's so cool

-

Michael really has some great lines for being a massive pillock

-

Omg he fight good too

-

AAH this is Kaia's memory and she's psychically implanting it in Dean's head

"Stop!" he says, clearly not enjoying watching himself beat up Bad Kaia and, like, realising exactly how awful it looks to do this when he has to watch himself from the outside and for all we know feel her pain too.

-

Of course Dean being desperate to get the spear to fight Michael could come across with a blur of ambiguity of Michael being desperate still to have it, whether to stop Kaia using it or because he just really wanted it and doesn't like being told no.

The concept that Michael just disappeared from Dean still lingers.

-

So many fights with a whole bunch of people this season. Maybe just because there's so many friggin characters

-

"Now you're in trouble" *Bad Kaia literally leaps through a window to avoid dealing with this* I love her

-

NICE STAB

thanks for saving Jody

-

Well that was quick

Also you're badass and terrifying and I think Claire might fall in love with you too >.>

-

"I'm used to it" Oh babe.

She literally raised herself in a terrifying doomy forest so

I mean at least this world has dry crackers and beans. SCORE

-

Jody has got a LOT of thinking to do about how to phrase any of this to Claire.

"So there's a feral Kaia living in the woods outside of town"

-

Awww Sam offering her a lift to the hospital

Bobo wants us to remember 9x06 and Dean having to tend Cas's broken hand maybe

-

Sam. Hug her right now. RIGHT NOW.

-

Nope Jody just looks really tormented

-

She's in a reverse Jack position - one mom to 3 hunters instead of one kid to 3 hunters :P

-

Hey look it is Jack and one of his fathers.

"Jules is off!" Hey look Sleeping Beauty was called Jules. Nerdylittleshit doesn't read these notes however so she will never know that I decided this character was named after her :P

-

Cas apologises for not being there for Jack, because it took this long to realise he's the father who's always at work while others have taken the stereotypically maternal role to Jack, Cas just gets to be the cool strong father who is usually dead, captured or just busy saving people and too busy for Jack as a result.

-

"It's okay," Jack says, sounding considerably more emotionally balanced about it than he had in 14x01 when everyone was neglecting him

-

"Today you PROVED that you have the mind of a hunter. And the heart of a hunter" Raised by the best, bitches!

-

Awwww Cas wants to be a hunter with Jack! They can get a terrible car and hit the road and do an easy case and bond as they go and eat crappy food at diners and

Jack develops Nephilim Flu in response to having a nice moment with a father because he's so unused to being treated with full attention.

-

Cas: *squints*

-

"Must be getting my first cold!"

I have a cold too Jack! Awww!!

-

Cas is going to make him some soup. This is too sweet. I don't even have words for any of this it's just gross. My teeth hurt.

-

Jack I swear to god if you stopped your revenge quest and it hurt you so bad inside you're about to cough up a lung I am going to LA to kick the writers' asses in person so if you dare be even the slightest bit consumptive

-

Oh thank god the scene changed before he coughed blood into his hand

-

Awww and then Dean admits Sam was right, while still being the one driving on the way back.

I wonder if they filmed these side by side. "Dean slow down" "Sam you were right"

-

"What Michael used me for" Ouch, hearing him say it like that... Sad sad thoughts.

He just wanted to skip ahead and have it all done because revenge makes you feel SO much better.

-

"Dean... you did what you had to do" Okay it's even worse hearing someone else justify it rather than hearing that phrase come out of someone's mouth. At least when they say it about themselves they're just in a bad place. I don't even know if this is a pavlovian response I'm having but really flipping it around to have Sam say it is a validation - Sam certainly thinks things are better off with a dead Lucifer and would have a favourable bias, because it got the job done and whatever Mikey is up to at least it's not Lucifer doing it. Because even if Lucifer were doing the exact same things it would just be intangibly but clearly worse.

-

"It wasn't a blink, being possessed."

Dean says to Sam, who has been possessed by an angel twice and when it was Gadreel, for almost as long as Dean was Michaeled

-

Dean's so freaked out because fighting the drowning sense of being possessed was so horrifying and made him feel so weak and useless and he didn't even win that fight, Michael just bailed and let him have it back. With the "I own you" hovering over him.

It certainly reeks of being haunted by a bad relationship. The sense the nasty abusive ex hovering around outside the place you work every night...

-

"And it's all on me, man" No it isn't, he got through because Lucifer told him how.

-

Well I mean if you wanna go cosmic consequences, yeah it is because Billie done told you not to go universe hopping and that's several billion dominoes you messed around with doing exactly that

-

But despite how I spent all of season 13 SHRIEKING at you not to do it while knowing full well you did, and how this is technically your cosmic hubris for doing that, I also don't actually blame you on a personal level, Dean. Just, like, so you know once I get back to the shrieking. Because ow you are very sad and in pain and if Nougat wasn't coming down with Nephilim Flu in the other scenes I'd basically rank you No 1 for wrapping in blankets and feeding soup.

-

You're still in the top 10. Jodi had a pretty bad day too :P

-

Oh COME ON JACK

*starts packing my bags for the ass kicking*

-

Aww Jack to an empty room

-

Um EXCUSE ME HOW MANY CONSUMPTIVE TISSUES HAVE YOU GONE THROUGH?

GO FIND YOUR FATHER RIGHT NOW

-

HAVE YOU BEEN DOING THIS FOR THREE WEEKS?

Well no wonder you've been in a panic to get Michael killed.

SHEESH.

Dean's back and he's gonna kick your ass because he remembers when Sam did this in the Trials and he is very very anti consumptive family members.

[chiefmauskateer]

Live blogging Eurovision not live

I ended up staying 12 hours at a board game thing so I missed Eurovision.

1. Eurgh this opening nonsense.

2. Hah, Heathrow drones

3. I would buy Malta's song for my car playlist. Good for her going for first and doing well.

4. These postcard things are so weird

5. Good lord her skin-to-dress transition is as as smooth as a cartoon drawing. O.o

6. I don't think Albania will break the curse of slot 2.

7. I think that is an illusion neckline? I am finding this woman's chest overly fascinating. 🤔 #whysosmooth #sounmoving

8. Will I like it Graham? Will I? Oh no. Maybe I will. I apologise for questioning you. Oh BLESS little Czech Republic singer's I'm-posh-trying-to-sound-cool English accent. This makes good noises for sitting in bars and stuff you know?

9. Yeah.. there is a reason the UK pay to skip the semis though isn't there, Graham?

10. Omg is Germany singing from the position of the UK? I hope so. I quite like their song - not necessarily their voices. I wish I should bob along to music like that and look as cool. 🙁

11. I am trying to remember whether Russia does well with public votes. Oh Graham implied they do. Oh. A ballad? Yay. I hope this build up actually builds. Ok mirrors.

12. 😲 The reflection moved itself! Lol shower door.

13. Visually very good Russia. Well done. The song is nice and edgy too. Great voice.

14. Omg I recognised Gautier from Big in France 🤣

15. "FLYING! WE ALL HOPE TO DO TO FLY!" "Let's fly! Yes!" - the penny dropped at that moment.

16. I got bored of Denmark and went to talk to my husband about Albania's illusion neckline. Now it is a man telling me to say Na na na. It is lovely and camp. Just missing some oomph vocally.

17. I didn't know Macedonia was split somehow? #whyishouldpayattentiontothenews

18. You have got me ready for this song Graham, I had better like it.

19. Good voice. I can tell from the dress - unless she tears the skirt away - that this will be a long number. 😐 Yep. Too repetitive for me. You let me down Graham.

20. Omg yes! He is a disappointing Jeff Goldblum, I just didn't want to say it first.

21. Sweden helped cowrite our song? Is that an indication of whether I will like theirs or evidence of sabotage? 🤣

22. Sabotage.

23. He could serenade me. 😘 He is fucking gorgeous.

24. Oooooo that wink! Take me now.

25. Michael Rice. Oh dear even his name sounds a bit naff. Despite Tim Rice being awesome.

26. Slovenia are wearing white. Love the late-90s/00s pop vibes. I don't think that guitar is making any sound though. Is this song about how she loves the lead guitarist of a band but he is too aloof and she is just a sweet naive fangirl? Just going by the fact this is not a duet and she doesn't take her eyes off him except when she closes them with quiet emotion.

24. Oh no I needed a bigger kiss than that for that song.

25. West Wickham? That is the village next to my home village! Woo tiny shout-out!

26. Standing up costume? Excellent.

27. Oh my. Has she any circulation in her legs? Maybe they work like flight socks.

28. Husband came in to tell me about UK sex workers from what he learned from PhilosophyTube and then she took off the jacket. 😆

28. She has such teeny hips.

29. Ok. So is the Netherlands the one that sparks joy or the one that did not? #mariekondomemespoilers

30. The vocals for the chorus is potentially sparking joy but I need it to build through the verses too.

31. Greece sounds like I do when I have my tooth guard in.

32. Just sing in your own languages. That is what is awesome about variety.

33. Good song though. Just not sure about the squawking and screeching between things?

34. Must be hard for Graham, knowing what each act is like already, praying for something amazingly good or amazingly bad to happen live.

35. Ah Israel is recycling Russia's mirror panels.

36. Bleurgh he does NOT have a good voice Graham. It is all throaty and weird. I don't understand what he is doing with his air. I don't think he is singing at a comfortable pitch either.

37. Oh I see it is because he actually cried? No wonder his voice wasn't working properly.

38. Norway's postcard already makes me fills me with hope. Ooo obscure language? Awesome.

39. Very cool. Love it. About time we had uplifting. Omg the dude with the obscure language job is hilariously brilliant. Oh yes! I love it. The subtitles can't cope hah. I would buy this one too. 💙 Love the origami spirit animals

40. Michael is the most British looking lad tho isn't he? Going for Will Young vocal stylings. The song is ok... Just doesn't have the Welly it needs to do really well. Hah there is the Swedish act's writing influence.

41. Awww what a sweet boy hah.

42. "If you win tonight will you come back?" "Hahahaha.... Ha... *Definite hesitation and inner tears*" "SAY YES" "OH! YES! 😬"

43. ICELAND. "Put granny in the hall and a blanket over the budgy cage" 🤣 omg. What is this? 😂 He is dressed like a dremora from Oblivion. Sing/shouts like one too. 😂

44. My meniere's would not cope if I was in the studio for this song. The strobes are even affecting how they look on screen.

45. "Iceland. They have very long winters. I would be angry too."

46. It is always weird when singers' eyes follow the camera panning sideways.

47. Ooo this chorus has promise. Camp and build it up Estonia. Do it.

48. No not like that.

49. Where does that guitar come from and go too?!

50. "She is just 16 years old. It's good to get some things over with early. Get on with the rest of your life". Yikes.

51. Just wear fitted trousers. More comfy than this boots and give the same visual effect. 🤷

51. I am always really uncomfortable with young teen stars singing about sexytimes like that. 😬

52. Azerbaijan usually pulls out a good one. Ok a good beat. Laser robots! 🤖 awesome a heartbreak song. The sort you can remix for clubs or have in the background of shops and hair salons.

53. Alexander McQueen robots?! Pricey

54. Graham: France has entertained. Diverse dancers is cool. Shame about the song.

55. Oh yes. I agree from a musical stance but visually brilliant and definitely a crowd pleaser despite the lack of bite to the tune and vocals.

56. I mean Graham. Look and listen to the vibe had gone for. That is why he went for the docks.

57. This would be good for Zumba.

58. Serbia's postcard music is fun. Hope it translates into the performance. Oh now I have to look at her dress. Oh. Yes. I see what you mean. Serbia's postcard music did NOT translate into the performance. 😑

59. That small bit of air guitar could have gone somewhere far cooler. 🙄 Instead we got a tiny bit of guitar and back to the way of the song with swirly galaxy effects.

60. Nice Swiss man is nice to look at. Song has a promising vibe too. Woo sex pop song.

61. Another goodun for Zumba.

62. Well done Australia! What a great performance 👏👏

63. "if Australia win it will still be hosted in Europe" - ok but is Tel Aviv in Europe?

64. Spain is fun.

65. Right. I don't know yet who won... Hm. I think Sweden, Spain, Russia and Australia stand a good chance from the audience vote.

I think I would have voted Sweden. And Cyprus, actually. And Australia. And Norway.

Basically spent quite a bit of money. 🤐

[andreagillmer]

Rigged Market Socialism

Source: Michael Ballanger for Streetwise Reports   04/06/2020

With his portfolio “solidly anchored” in silver and gold, sector expert Michael Ballanger opines on how bankers and politicians can manipulate markets.

As a child, I used to get quite excited at the prospect of having my English “Gran” read me the Hans Christian Andersen book “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” I found the tale fiendishly amusing, as the charlatan tailor uses lethal doses of flattery and mystery to beguile the poor sovereign into really believing that he is wearing the finest robes ever woven. There is even greater irony in the crowds he passes during a parade as they “Oooh” and “Awww” at his comic preening, knowing full well that he is making a fool of himself but too fearful to do anything but play along. The ending is sublime, with the ultimate moment of reckoning coming “from the mouths of babes,” in the form of a young lad who finally blows the whistle with the innocent but true acknowledgement that, indeed, the emperor was parading pitifully through the town square clad only in his knickers.

I think that I admired and, in fact, envied the scallywag tailor in a manner not dissimilar to the way I am awed by this recent bevy of bankers and politicians. They stand in front of the cameras with their carnival barker bravado and serpentine smiles as they lift trillions of dollars from the future wallets of the taxpaying public and distribute it shamelessly among their capitalist cronies.

You will have to forgive me for defaulting back to the singular best description of the current environment, emblazoned for posterity into our collective psyche by Sir Winston Churchill when he said, “Never let a good crisis go to waste.” The sheer wisdom of that statement is exceeded only by its sheer cynicism, a practice to which I heartily subscribe.

To wit, that I have been (and continue to be) an irritating gnat in the ears of the Millennial Generation is neither a secret nor a placard. However, I place in these youngsters zero fault for taking such an equally cynical approach to the current global health crisis. They should be outraged by the actions taken by the Baby Boom geriatrics in charge of the “handling” of the outbreak, and indeed they are. Swirling around the twitterverse and the blogosphere are conversations about the COVID-19 pandemic that include descriptives like “Boomer Remover,” which, while in very poor taste in light of the death tolls, reflects the growing mistrust of youth in the global leadership, the bulk of whom would fall into the “boomer” demographic.

Ours is the generation that marched in the streets against racism and war, and then promoted the entire concept of “free market capitalism” for decades. We constantly amped up the frequency and volume of monetary inflation while blindly saying “support our troops,” without questioning why they were being sent off to foreign lands to combat enemies too elusive to confront and too abstract to hate. The banco-politico alliance told us that 9/11 was a “crisis,” so invading a sovereign nation was justified. In fact, the West has been at war in the Middle East now for nearly three decades and there are still terrorists blowing up civilians while young men and women are being returned in body bags to native soils in America, Canada and numerous other NATO lands.

Now, I don’t want to get too morose here but there is absolutely no reason to be surprised if there are crowds marching on the capital cities of the G20, torches and pitchforks in hand, demanding big changes in the “bailout and entitlement queue.”

What really irks me (and should irk you) is that the banco-politico alliance have not “let a good crisis go to waste” but, quite on the contrary, have not only seized it but actually may have created it. Conspiracy theories put aside, with central bank balance sheets all seriously impaired by last September, choked to the esophageal gills with the toxic waste of the last crisis (2008), it is quite possible that these cretins actually needed an excuse to launch a “shock-and-awe” campaign of unbridled money-printing, fully condoned by a terrified legislative and “all-knowing” leadership.

As I have written before, the crisis I identified in the 2020 Forecast Issue was debt, and the first inkling of trouble arrived in September, when JPMorgan’s Jamie Dimon first went public with the “trouble in the interbank market” comment during a CNBC interview, followed by the rapid and predictable response by the Fed (REPO). What started as a “temporary” event and “no QE” (quantitative easing) quickly morphed into “permanent” and “massive QE,” and that was before the pandemic even arrived.

No one will ever know for certain, but as Richard Russell would often counsel, “Follow the money.” This leads me to believe that while the elitists probably had nothing to do with the origin of the virus, they have certainly used it to their fullest advantage. Now the Fed balance sheet has grown (and will continue to grow) to unfathomable levels while the treasury departments of all nations around the globe are currently embarked on massive campaigns of debt monetization, the extent of which has become surreal in the true sense of the word.

I was hoping to be wrong in my cynicism, and see the recipient list for the handouts and bailouts not include the banks but, alas, it is not to be. As always, the money has to be channeled through the fee-starved banks because, after all, interest payments on loans held by these “poor banks” must be paid, and as the U.S. is in an election year, they can’t have mortgage defaults spiraling into the abyss while votes are on the table.

In the end, just as that emperor was able to walk without fanfare for what might have been seen as an eternity in retrospect, undergarments disguised as golden robes, the world has long been convinced that the wealth and longevity of the Western World, led by the U.S., was the direct result of “Free Market Capitalism.” That, my friends, is the greatest fallacy of the New Millennium. It did not “go slowly into that good night;” it fell to the ground in ruin, one crisis at a time.

Once the bastion of goodness, “Free Market Capitalism” is now a smoldering pile of rubble, while in its place rises a new world order of “Rigged Market Socialism,” where the wonderfully fertile process of true price discovery has been supplanted by interference, manipulation and price management. Ayn Rand wrote of it in 1957 with her epic novel “Atlas Shrugged,” a work that is now prologue to the events of the last eight weeks, with the phrase “Who is John Galt?” echoing throughout the chambers of policy debate and political strategies.

As greatly as I might resemble a Scrooge-like curmudgeon in today’s missive, I give thanks that my portfolio is solidly anchored in a balance of gold and silver assets whose prices are divergent but, on balance, largely positive on the year. To be down year to day anything less than the 22.79% drop in the S&P 500 is a bonus, but to be ahead is a testimonial to the utile effectiveness of a gold-centric portfolio.

Silver, by contrast, has been a dismal underperformer, for all the reasons I mentioned earlier, and despite recent strength remains in a bear market.

I usually roll my eyes when I read some newsletter “guru” taking victory laps for making a lucky guess at the short-term direction of the precious metals. But even worse is the guy that reminds you that he has “always advocated gold” while failing to remind us all that gold endured a horrific bear market from August 2011 to December 2015, with the HUI falling from over 600 to under 100. I try to identify swings in both gold and silver because you do not want to be 100% long anything all the time. However, never in my forty-plus years in association with the mining and metals arena have I come across a more opportune time to hold gold assets than now. I cannot underscore this. We are going to go through a near-term deflationary scare here first, but what will follow will be an inflationary firestorm, the likes of which will make Weimar, Zimbabwe and Venezuela look like Switzerland.

Year to date, gold has been like a dutiful Saint Bernard. It pulled all of us out of an avalanche of snow and continues to revive of us with the barrel of brandy around its neck. It has behaved, and continues to behave, exactly as it should. It is really important to understand that as we look back in time, we see an asset that not only responds to current demand, it also responds to the current policy initiatives of “those in power that would try to save us.” So, these desperate measures being undertaken by banco-politico alliances across the globe are the reasons that I am buying more on any weakness that appears.

Tactically, on the assumption that we will see a $2,000/ounce gold price by 2021, the biggest leverage comes in owning the marginal producers, but even more so in the developers. The developers that own gold ounces in the ground, but not yet mined, represent outstanding upside because if they are valued at $20 per ounce for a deposit carrying an AISC (all-in sustaining cost) of US$1,500/oz., they will get a $100/ounce lift as their profitability moves from $150 to $500/ounce. That one-million-ounce deposit valued at $20 million gets suddenly rerated to $120 million, and whereas the price of gold advanced 21%, the value of the company rose by 600%. This is the epitome of leverage in the world of gold mining.

While the list of companies that fall into the “developer/explorer” category is reserved for subscribers, there are a few that have been outstanding performers. Two of these “penny dreadfuls hit 2020 highs this week and both are gold deals. The same thing is going to happen when silver finally breaks out of its bear market. But for now, the marginal producers and nascent gold producer/developers are the place to be.

The chart of silver shown above, containing some Fibonacci levels covering the peak-to-trough crash, offers some guidance, and while I do not pretend to be a technical analyst by any stretch, silver has finally scratched its way above that first resistance at US$14.38/ounce, with the next two levels possible. To turn the near-term trend positive (i.e., something more than a dead-cat bounce), we need a solid close above US$16.08/ounce.

Back in November the Fed’s REPO actions began to accelerate, making it appear evident that the Fed was content to let the economy run “hot” for “awhile” in order to jumpstart productivity. This was a clear signal to many of us that all was not well with the U.S. economy, and while people shrugged it off as a temporary problem brought on by Trump’s Trade War (with everyone), I surmised that it was going to have unintended consequences, which it did.

The constant interference in the paper markets include the Crimex in New Yord and the LBMA (London Bullion Market Association) in London, and as I wrote about in “A Tale of Two Markets” last week, investors are moving rapidly up the learning curve with this insatiable appetite for physical gold and silver. Seeing a paper market offering at US$14.55 for an ounce of digital silver, but having to pay US$23.87 for a deliverable ounce of the same metal with six-month lag time, is the largest and most malodorous smoking gun ever left at a murder scene. The banks are playing a totally different game with a totally different set of rules, and it will not end well.

I wrote in the Forecast issue that I fully expect to see a reset in the U.S. dollar gold price, prompted by the very people who have been resisting it for decades. Continuing along the path of “follow the money,” look no further than U.S., the International Monetary Fund and Germany for the instigators of this collateral mark-up. The banco-politico alliance is not only out of new bullets, and not only are the old bullets having little to no impact, they have only one option left, and that is the gold holdings. They must re-collateralize their precious banks and they have only one means to do that—they must re-price their only remaining collateral.

With the bullion bank shorts still at uncomfortably high levels (280,000 plus), it could not come at a more propitious time.

Welcome to the New World Order of “Rigged Market Socialism.”

Follow Michael Ballanger on Twitter @MiningJunkie.

Originally trained during the inflationary 1970s, Michael Ballanger is a graduate of Saint Louis University where he earned a Bachelor of Science in finance and a Bachelor of Art in marketing before completing post-graduate work at the Wharton School of Finance. With more than 30 years of experience as a junior mining and exploration specialist, as well as a solid background in corporate finance, Ballanger’s adherence to the concept of “Hard Assets” allows him to focus the practice on selecting opportunities in the global resource sector with emphasis on the precious metals exploration and development sector. Ballanger takes great pleasure in visiting mineral properties around the globe in the never-ending hunt for early-stage opportunities.

Sign up for our FREE newsletter at: www.streetwisereports.com/get-news

Disclosure: 1) Statements and opinions expressed are the opinions of Michael Ballanger and not of Streetwise Reports or its officers. Michael Ballanger is wholly responsible for the validity of the statements. Streetwise Reports was not involved in any aspect of the article preparation. Michael Ballanger was not paid by Streetwise Reports LLC for this article. Streetwise Reports was not paid by the author to publish or syndicate this article. 2) This article does not constitute investment advice. Each reader is encouraged to consult with his or her individual financial professional and any action a reader takes as a result of information presented here is his or her own responsibility. By opening this page, each reader accepts and agrees to Streetwise Reports’ terms of use and full legal disclaimer. This article is not a solicitation for investment. Streetwise Reports does not render general or specific investment advice and the information on Streetwise Reports should not be considered a recommendation to buy or sell any security. Streetwise Reports does not endorse or recommend the business, products, services or securities of any company mentioned on Streetwise Reports. 3) From time to time, Streetwise Reports LLC and its directors, officers, employees or members of their families, as well as persons interviewed for articles and interviews on the site, may have a long or short position in securities mentioned. Directors, officers, employees or members of their immediate families are prohibited from making purchases and/or sales of those securities in the open market or otherwise from the time of the interview or the decision to write an article until three business days after the publication of the interview or article. The foregoing prohibition does not apply to articles that in substance only restate previously published company releases.

Charts provided by the author.

Michael Ballanger Disclaimer: This letter makes no guarantee or warranty on the accuracy or completeness of the data provided. Nothing contained herein is intended or shall be deemed to be investment advice, implied or otherwise. This letter represents my views and replicates trades that I am making but nothing more than that. Always consult your registered advisor to assist you with your investments. I accept no liability for any loss arising from the use of the data contained on this letter. Options and junior mining stocks contain a high level of risk that may result in the loss of part or all invested capital and therefore are suitable for experienced and professional investors and traders only. One should be familiar with the risks involved in junior mining and options trading and we recommend consulting a financial adviser if you feel you do not understand the risks involved.

from The Gold Report – Streetwise Exclusive Articles Full Text https://ift.tt/3aPLwfi

from WordPress https://ift.tt/2VeptIR

[goldcoins0]

Rigged Market Socialism

Source: Michael Ballanger for Streetwise Reports   04/06/2020

With his portfolio "solidly anchored" in silver and gold, sector expert Michael Ballanger opines on how bankers and politicians can manipulate markets.

As a child, I used to get quite excited at the prospect of having my English "Gran" read me the Hans Christian Andersen book "The Emperor's New Clothes." I found the tale fiendishly amusing, as the charlatan tailor uses lethal doses of flattery and mystery to beguile the poor sovereign into really believing that he is wearing the finest robes ever woven. There is even greater irony in the crowds he passes during a parade as they "Oooh" and "Awww" at his comic preening, knowing full well that he is making a fool of himself but too fearful to do anything but play along. The ending is sublime, with the ultimate moment of reckoning coming "from the mouths of babes," in the form of a young lad who finally blows the whistle with the innocent but true acknowledgement that, indeed, the emperor was parading pitifully through the town square clad only in his knickers.

I think that I admired and, in fact, envied the scallywag tailor in a manner not dissimilar to the way I am awed by this recent bevy of bankers and politicians. They stand in front of the cameras with their carnival barker bravado and serpentine smiles as they lift trillions of dollars from the future wallets of the taxpaying public and distribute it shamelessly among their capitalist cronies.

You will have to forgive me for defaulting back to the singular best description of the current environment, emblazoned for posterity into our collective psyche by Sir Winston Churchill when he said, "Never let a good crisis go to waste." The sheer wisdom of that statement is exceeded only by its sheer cynicism, a practice to which I heartily subscribe.

To wit, that I have been (and continue to be) an irritating gnat in the ears of the Millennial Generation is neither a secret nor a placard. However, I place in these youngsters zero fault for taking such an equally cynical approach to the current global health crisis. They should be outraged by the actions taken by the Baby Boom geriatrics in charge of the "handling" of the outbreak, and indeed they are. Swirling around the twitterverse and the blogosphere are conversations about the COVID-19 pandemic that include descriptives like "Boomer Remover," which, while in very poor taste in light of the death tolls, reflects the growing mistrust of youth in the global leadership, the bulk of whom would fall into the "boomer" demographic.

Ours is the generation that marched in the streets against racism and war, and then promoted the entire concept of "free market capitalism" for decades. We constantly amped up the frequency and volume of monetary inflation while blindly saying "support our troops," without questioning why they were being sent off to foreign lands to combat enemies too elusive to confront and too abstract to hate. The banco-politico alliance told us that 9/11 was a "crisis," so invading a sovereign nation was justified. In fact, the West has been at war in the Middle East now for nearly three decades and there are still terrorists blowing up civilians while young men and women are being returned in body bags to native soils in America, Canada and numerous other NATO lands.

Now, I don't want to get too morose here but there is absolutely no reason to be surprised if there are crowds marching on the capital cities of the G20, torches and pitchforks in hand, demanding big changes in the "bailout and entitlement queue."

What really irks me (and should irk you) is that the banco-politico alliance have not "let a good crisis go to waste" but, quite on the contrary, have not only seized it but actually may have created it. Conspiracy theories put aside, with central bank balance sheets all seriously impaired by last September, choked to the esophageal gills with the toxic waste of the last crisis (2008), it is quite possible that these cretins actually needed an excuse to launch a "shock-and-awe" campaign of unbridled money-printing, fully condoned by a terrified legislative and "all-knowing" leadership.

As I have written before, the crisis I identified in the 2020 Forecast Issue was debt, and the first inkling of trouble arrived in September, when JPMorgan's Jamie Dimon first went public with the "trouble in the interbank market" comment during a CNBC interview, followed by the rapid and predictable response by the Fed (REPO). What started as a "temporary" event and "no QE" (quantitative easing) quickly morphed into "permanent" and "massive QE," and that was before the pandemic even arrived.

No one will ever know for certain, but as Richard Russell would often counsel, "Follow the money." This leads me to believe that while the elitists probably had nothing to do with the origin of the virus, they have certainly used it to their fullest advantage. Now the Fed balance sheet has grown (and will continue to grow) to unfathomable levels while the treasury departments of all nations around the globe are currently embarked on massive campaigns of debt monetization, the extent of which has become surreal in the true sense of the word.

I was hoping to be wrong in my cynicism, and see the recipient list for the handouts and bailouts not include the banks but, alas, it is not to be. As always, the money has to be channeled through the fee-starved banks because, after all, interest payments on loans held by these "poor banks" must be paid, and as the U.S. is in an election year, they can't have mortgage defaults spiraling into the abyss while votes are on the table.

In the end, just as that emperor was able to walk without fanfare for what might have been seen as an eternity in retrospect, undergarments disguised as golden robes, the world has long been convinced that the wealth and longevity of the Western World, led by the U.S., was the direct result of "Free Market Capitalism." That, my friends, is the greatest fallacy of the New Millennium. It did not "go slowly into that good night;" it fell to the ground in ruin, one crisis at a time.

Once the bastion of goodness, "Free Market Capitalism" is now a smoldering pile of rubble, while in its place rises a new world order of "Rigged Market Socialism," where the wonderfully fertile process of true price discovery has been supplanted by interference, manipulation and price management. Ayn Rand wrote of it in 1957 with her epic novel "Atlas Shrugged," a work that is now prologue to the events of the last eight weeks, with the phrase "Who is John Galt?" echoing throughout the chambers of policy debate and political strategies.

As greatly as I might resemble a Scrooge-like curmudgeon in today's missive, I give thanks that my portfolio is solidly anchored in a balance of gold and silver assets whose prices are divergent but, on balance, largely positive on the year. To be down year to day anything less than the 22.79% drop in the S&P 500 is a bonus, but to be ahead is a testimonial to the utile effectiveness of a gold-centric portfolio.

Silver, by contrast, has been a dismal underperformer, for all the reasons I mentioned earlier, and despite recent strength remains in a bear market.

I usually roll my eyes when I read some newsletter "guru" taking victory laps for making a lucky guess at the short-term direction of the precious metals. But even worse is the guy that reminds you that he has "always advocated gold" while failing to remind us all that gold endured a horrific bear market from August 2011 to December 2015, with the HUI falling from over 600 to under 100. I try to identify swings in both gold and silver because you do not want to be 100% long anything all the time. However, never in my forty-plus years in association with the mining and metals arena have I come across a more opportune time to hold gold assets than now. I cannot underscore this. We are going to go through a near-term deflationary scare here first, but what will follow will be an inflationary firestorm, the likes of which will make Weimar, Zimbabwe and Venezuela look like Switzerland.

Year to date, gold has been like a dutiful Saint Bernard. It pulled all of us out of an avalanche of snow and continues to revive of us with the barrel of brandy around its neck. It has behaved, and continues to behave, exactly as it should. It is really important to understand that as we look back in time, we see an asset that not only responds to current demand, it also responds to the current policy initiatives of "those in power that would try to save us." So, these desperate measures being undertaken by banco-politico alliances across the globe are the reasons that I am buying more on any weakness that appears.

Tactically, on the assumption that we will see a $2,000/ounce gold price by 2021, the biggest leverage comes in owning the marginal producers, but even more so in the developers. The developers that own gold ounces in the ground, but not yet mined, represent outstanding upside because if they are valued at $20 per ounce for a deposit carrying an AISC (all-in sustaining cost) of US$1,500/oz., they will get a $100/ounce lift as their profitability moves from $150 to $500/ounce. That one-million-ounce deposit valued at $20 million gets suddenly rerated to $120 million, and whereas the price of gold advanced 21%, the value of the company rose by 600%. This is the epitome of leverage in the world of gold mining.

While the list of companies that fall into the "developer/explorer" category is reserved for subscribers, there are a few that have been outstanding performers. Two of these "penny dreadfuls hit 2020 highs this week and both are gold deals. The same thing is going to happen when silver finally breaks out of its bear market. But for now, the marginal producers and nascent gold producer/developers are the place to be.

The chart of silver shown above, containing some Fibonacci levels covering the peak-to-trough crash, offers some guidance, and while I do not pretend to be a technical analyst by any stretch, silver has finally scratched its way above that first resistance at US$14.38/ounce, with the next two levels possible. To turn the near-term trend positive (i.e., something more than a dead-cat bounce), we need a solid close above US$16.08/ounce.

Back in November the Fed's REPO actions began to accelerate, making it appear evident that the Fed was content to let the economy run "hot" for "awhile" in order to jumpstart productivity. This was a clear signal to many of us that all was not well with the U.S. economy, and while people shrugged it off as a temporary problem brought on by Trump's Trade War (with everyone), I surmised that it was going to have unintended consequences, which it did.

The constant interference in the paper markets include the Crimex in New Yord and the LBMA (London Bullion Market Association) in London, and as I wrote about in "A Tale of Two Markets" last week, investors are moving rapidly up the learning curve with this insatiable appetite for physical gold and silver. Seeing a paper market offering at US$14.55 for an ounce of digital silver, but having to pay US$23.87 for a deliverable ounce of the same metal with six-month lag time, is the largest and most malodorous smoking gun ever left at a murder scene. The banks are playing a totally different game with a totally different set of rules, and it will not end well.

I wrote in the Forecast issue that I fully expect to see a reset in the U.S. dollar gold price, prompted by the very people who have been resisting it for decades. Continuing along the path of "follow the money," look no further than U.S., the International Monetary Fund and Germany for the instigators of this collateral mark-up. The banco-politico alliance is not only out of new bullets, and not only are the old bullets having little to no impact, they have only one option left, and that is the gold holdings. They must re-collateralize their precious banks and they have only one means to do that—they must re-price their only remaining collateral.

With the bullion bank shorts still at uncomfortably high levels (280,000 plus), it could not come at a more propitious time.

Welcome to the New World Order of "Rigged Market Socialism."

Follow Michael Ballanger on Twitter @MiningJunkie.

Originally trained during the inflationary 1970s, Michael Ballanger is a graduate of Saint Louis University where he earned a Bachelor of Science in finance and a Bachelor of Art in marketing before completing post-graduate work at the Wharton School of Finance. With more than 30 years of experience as a junior mining and exploration specialist, as well as a solid background in corporate finance, Ballanger's adherence to the concept of "Hard Assets" allows him to focus the practice on selecting opportunities in the global resource sector with emphasis on the precious metals exploration and development sector. Ballanger takes great pleasure in visiting mineral properties around the globe in the never-ending hunt for early-stage opportunities.

Sign up for our FREE newsletter at: www.streetwisereports.com/get-news

Disclosure: 1) Statements and opinions expressed are the opinions of Michael Ballanger and not of Streetwise Reports or its officers. Michael Ballanger is wholly responsible for the validity of the statements. Streetwise Reports was not involved in any aspect of the article preparation. Michael Ballanger was not paid by Streetwise Reports LLC for this article. Streetwise Reports was not paid by the author to publish or syndicate this article. 2) This article does not constitute investment advice. Each reader is encouraged to consult with his or her individual financial professional and any action a reader takes as a result of information presented here is his or her own responsibility. By opening this page, each reader accepts and agrees to Streetwise Reports' terms of use and full legal disclaimer. This article is not a solicitation for investment. Streetwise Reports does not render general or specific investment advice and the information on Streetwise Reports should not be considered a recommendation to buy or sell any security. Streetwise Reports does not endorse or recommend the business, products, services or securities of any company mentioned on Streetwise Reports. 3) From time to time, Streetwise Reports LLC and its directors, officers, employees or members of their families, as well as persons interviewed for articles and interviews on the site, may have a long or short position in securities mentioned. Directors, officers, employees or members of their immediate families are prohibited from making purchases and/or sales of those securities in the open market or otherwise from the time of the interview or the decision to write an article until three business days after the publication of the interview or article. The foregoing prohibition does not apply to articles that in substance only restate previously published company releases.

Charts provided by the author.

Michael Ballanger Disclaimer: This letter makes no guarantee or warranty on the accuracy or completeness of the data provided. Nothing contained herein is intended or shall be deemed to be investment advice, implied or otherwise. This letter represents my views and replicates trades that I am making but nothing more than that. Always consult your registered advisor to assist you with your investments. I accept no liability for any loss arising from the use of the data contained on this letter. Options and junior mining stocks contain a high level of risk that may result in the loss of part or all invested capital and therefore are suitable for experienced and professional investors and traders only. One should be familiar with the risks involved in junior mining and options trading and we recommend consulting a financial adviser if you feel you do not understand the risks involved.

from https://www.streetwisereports.com/article/2020/04/05/rigged-market-socialism.html

[askthetotallynotsquad]

soft soft soft boyfs ft. angry Christine

Ava: sure I guess (but we aren’t going to make Christine like super mean Bc we all know she could never be that mean to Jerem)

————

Jeremy: Christine...I had something to um- tell you

Christine: Yes? What is it? *holds Jeremy’s hand uwu xd*

Jeremy: you’re really nice and kind and very pretty but um...im breaking up with you-

Christine: Wh-wHat? Did I do something? I’m terribly sorry-

Jeremy: no! You didn’t do anything wrong- I just- I think- I like guys-

Christine: oh... we can still be friends right? Who do you like can I help hook you up?? *::DD*

Jeremy: yeah of course! And uh...I maybeeeeee like Michael-

Christine: I KNEW IT!! YESSSSS OKAY IM HELPING YOU HOOK UP WETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT

Jeremy: IM GOING TO GET SO EMBARRASSED!

Christine: That’s part of the plan!!!

Jeremy: wow thanks! I was never prepared to tell mic- *turns around* OH HEYYYYY MICHAELLL

Michael: hi! do you wanna like- come over after school or-

Christine: MICHAEL JEREMY LIKES YOU

Jeremy: UH- CHRISTINE! WHAT THE HELL

Michael: *dndkdkkks red lad oops*

Christine: nOW KISS!! *speeds away*

Jeremy: uh- she’s obviously joking-

Michael: o-oh... *:(*

Jeremy: why? Do you like me?! Because if you do that’s totally fine-

Michael: I’ve liked you since second grade. *:/*

Jeremy: *kisses the michael* I am so sorry- I’m kinda dumb-

Michael: oh shush *djdjskmskaks v v v v v long kiss uwu*

Jeremy: I-I-o-oh..wha- *v stuttery (idk) boye*

Michael: so jeremy- wanna go out for lunch? just the two of us?

Jeremy: u-uh sure!

Michael: *kisses jerem’s cheek uwu* rad.

Jeremy: I am definitely dreaming

Michael: *giggle uwu* are you sure?

Jeremy: if Michael mell just kissed me then yes

Michael: I’m the one dreaming man. This has been my dream since second grade

Jeremy: to be with me?! Oh my god- *big blush man*

Michael: *teehee bigger blush man* I’m such an idiot

Jeremy: don’t say that! *hugs the michael*

Michael: awww you’re so small- *hug uwu*

Jeremy: shush

Michael: how can I shush when the most adorable person in the entire world is hugging me???

Jeremy: you’re making me look like that one dude from veggie tales!

Michael: *teehee giggle* bob the tomato?

Jeremy: yeah that one! And I’m gonna say something that will sound very weird but I’m a weird person so uh- you look like a really nice person to cuddle with-

Michael: aw you’re so precious- *picks up the jerem firnrjr* we’re going to my house so I can cuddle you for the rest of the day

Jeremy: definitely dreaming- and if I’m not- this is just the best day ever

Michael: *skrt skrt drives home* *brings the jerem to his room didndkd* I can finally- I LOVE YOU JEREMY HEERE

Jeremy: I LOVE YOU TOO MICHAEL MELL *v v excited boye*

Michael: *uwuwuwuwuuwwu cuddle uwu* you’re warm

Jeremy: this is the best feeling ever-

Michael: aw really?

Jeremy: hell yeah

Michael: I’m so tireddd and cOLD *kiss uwuwuwuwu*

Jeremy: *big blush man* *cuddles the michael uwu*

Michael: I love you... *falls asleep on the jerem uwu*

Jeremy: love you too *v happy boye*

Later: hello

Snowstorm: hi (ITS SNOWING BC I LIKE CHRISTMAS OKAY?! OKAY-Ava)

Dan: (It should probably be said it isn’t June in this story)

Michael: hhh *clings onto the jerem while he’s asleep*

Thunder: hello y’all

Jeremy: *sleep*

Michael: *a wakens* jeremyyyyyyyyy *:((*

Jeremy: *awakens, also v v v tired* yeah?

Michael: coldddd *shoves his face into jerem’s shirt*

Jeremy: awe!! *puts the blanket over him*

Michael: *hugs the jerem* it’s freezing *:(*

Jeremy: it’s okay Micha! It’s just snowing- *gasp* ITS SNOWING

Michael: ughhhh *rolls off of jerem and hides in his blanket siemdndkdd*

Jeremy: I’m sorry- being with me is very complicated..

Michael: no- I love you so so so much- but it’s FREEZING

Jeremy: *hugs the michael* love you too

Michael: I’m screaming you’re so perfect

Jeremy: *giggly boye*

Michael: *b o o p*

Jeremy: *gasp*

Michael: *pokes the jerem’s cheek* squish

Jeremy: *falls back asleep*

Michael: *s l e e p*

Later: teeehee

Jeremy: *is wearing Michael’s hoodie bc he can*

Michael: jEREMY CAN WE WATCH CORALINE

Jeremy: SURE

Michael: IM GONNA MAKE FUN OF YOU IF YOU GET SCARED *puts on coraline teehee*

Jeremy: wow thanks

Michael: *kiss uwu* no problem

Later: TEEHEE

Jeremy: MICHAEL DONT GET ANY IDEAS OF USING BUTTONS FOR MY EYES

Michael: jeremyyyyy I’m going to sew buttons to your eyes while you’re asleep *teehee*

Jeremy: I swear to god I will leave

Michael: you’ll feel baddddd

Jeremy: oh shush

Michael: *v long kiss uwu*

Jeremy: I never knew you would do that-

Michael: well I just did baby boy *uwu*

Jeremy: this escalated quickly-

Michael: wanna play Santa run three

Jeremy: I swear to god you’re probably high again but sure

Michael: I swear to god I’m going to win teehee *casually goes onto coolmathgames*

[andreagillmer]

Rigged Market Socialism

Source: Michael Ballanger for Streetwise Reports   04/06/2020

With his portfolio "solidly anchored" in silver and gold, sector expert Michael Ballanger opines on how bankers and politicians can manipulate markets.

As a child, I used to get quite excited at the prospect of having my English "Gran" read me the Hans Christian Andersen book "The Emperor's New Clothes." I found the tale fiendishly amusing, as the charlatan tailor uses lethal doses of flattery and mystery to beguile the poor sovereign into really believing that he is wearing the finest robes ever woven. There is even greater irony in the crowds he passes during a parade as they "Oooh" and "Awww" at his comic preening, knowing full well that he is making a fool of himself but too fearful to do anything but play along. The ending is sublime, with the ultimate moment of reckoning coming "from the mouths of babes," in the form of a young lad who finally blows the whistle with the innocent but true acknowledgement that, indeed, the emperor was parading pitifully through the town square clad only in his knickers.

I think that I admired and, in fact, envied the scallywag tailor in a manner not dissimilar to the way I am awed by this recent bevy of bankers and politicians. They stand in front of the cameras with their carnival barker bravado and serpentine smiles as they lift trillions of dollars from the future wallets of the taxpaying public and distribute it shamelessly among their capitalist cronies.

You will have to forgive me for defaulting back to the singular best description of the current environment, emblazoned for posterity into our collective psyche by Sir Winston Churchill when he said, "Never let a good crisis go to waste." The sheer wisdom of that statement is exceeded only by its sheer cynicism, a practice to which I heartily subscribe.

To wit, that I have been (and continue to be) an irritating gnat in the ears of the Millennial Generation is neither a secret nor a placard. However, I place in these youngsters zero fault for taking such an equally cynical approach to the current global health crisis. They should be outraged by the actions taken by the Baby Boom geriatrics in charge of the "handling" of the outbreak, and indeed they are. Swirling around the twitterverse and the blogosphere are conversations about the COVID-19 pandemic that include descriptives like "Boomer Remover," which, while in very poor taste in light of the death tolls, reflects the growing mistrust of youth in the global leadership, the bulk of whom would fall into the "boomer" demographic.

Ours is the generation that marched in the streets against racism and war, and then promoted the entire concept of "free market capitalism" for decades. We constantly amped up the frequency and volume of monetary inflation while blindly saying "support our troops," without questioning why they were being sent off to foreign lands to combat enemies too elusive to confront and too abstract to hate. The banco-politico alliance told us that 9/11 was a "crisis," so invading a sovereign nation was justified. In fact, the West has been at war in the Middle East now for nearly three decades and there are still terrorists blowing up civilians while young men and women are being returned in body bags to native soils in America, Canada and numerous other NATO lands.

Now, I don't want to get too morose here but there is absolutely no reason to be surprised if there are crowds marching on the capital cities of the G20, torches and pitchforks in hand, demanding big changes in the "bailout and entitlement queue."

What really irks me (and should irk you) is that the banco-politico alliance have not "let a good crisis go to waste" but, quite on the contrary, have not only seized it but actually may have created it. Conspiracy theories put aside, with central bank balance sheets all seriously impaired by last September, choked to the esophageal gills with the toxic waste of the last crisis (2008), it is quite possible that these cretins actually needed an excuse to launch a "shock-and-awe" campaign of unbridled money-printing, fully condoned by a terrified legislative and "all-knowing" leadership.

As I have written before, the crisis I identified in the 2020 Forecast Issue was debt, and the first inkling of trouble arrived in September, when JPMorgan's Jamie Dimon first went public with the "trouble in the interbank market" comment during a CNBC interview, followed by the rapid and predictable response by the Fed (REPO). What started as a "temporary" event and "no QE" (quantitative easing) quickly morphed into "permanent" and "massive QE," and that was before the pandemic even arrived.

No one will ever know for certain, but as Richard Russell would often counsel, "Follow the money." This leads me to believe that while the elitists probably had nothing to do with the origin of the virus, they have certainly used it to their fullest advantage. Now the Fed balance sheet has grown (and will continue to grow) to unfathomable levels while the treasury departments of all nations around the globe are currently embarked on massive campaigns of debt monetization, the extent of which has become surreal in the true sense of the word.

I was hoping to be wrong in my cynicism, and see the recipient list for the handouts and bailouts not include the banks but, alas, it is not to be. As always, the money has to be channeled through the fee-starved banks because, after all, interest payments on loans held by these "poor banks" must be paid, and as the U.S. is in an election year, they can't have mortgage defaults spiraling into the abyss while votes are on the table.

In the end, just as that emperor was able to walk without fanfare for what might have been seen as an eternity in retrospect, undergarments disguised as golden robes, the world has long been convinced that the wealth and longevity of the Western World, led by the U.S., was the direct result of "Free Market Capitalism." That, my friends, is the greatest fallacy of the New Millennium. It did not "go slowly into that good night;" it fell to the ground in ruin, one crisis at a time.

Once the bastion of goodness, "Free Market Capitalism" is now a smoldering pile of rubble, while in its place rises a new world order of "Rigged Market Socialism," where the wonderfully fertile process of true price discovery has been supplanted by interference, manipulation and price management. Ayn Rand wrote of it in 1957 with her epic novel "Atlas Shrugged," a work that is now prologue to the events of the last eight weeks, with the phrase "Who is John Galt?" echoing throughout the chambers of policy debate and political strategies.

As greatly as I might resemble a Scrooge-like curmudgeon in today's missive, I give thanks that my portfolio is solidly anchored in a balance of gold and silver assets whose prices are divergent but, on balance, largely positive on the year. To be down year to day anything less than the 22.79% drop in the S&P 500 is a bonus, but to be ahead is a testimonial to the utile effectiveness of a gold-centric portfolio.

Silver, by contrast, has been a dismal underperformer, for all the reasons I mentioned earlier, and despite recent strength remains in a bear market.

I usually roll my eyes when I read some newsletter "guru" taking victory laps for making a lucky guess at the short-term direction of the precious metals. But even worse is the guy that reminds you that he has "always advocated gold" while failing to remind us all that gold endured a horrific bear market from August 2011 to December 2015, with the HUI falling from over 600 to under 100. I try to identify swings in both gold and silver because you do not want to be 100% long anything all the time. However, never in my forty-plus years in association with the mining and metals arena have I come across a more opportune time to hold gold assets than now. I cannot underscore this. We are going to go through a near-term deflationary scare here first, but what will follow will be an inflationary firestorm, the likes of which will make Weimar, Zimbabwe and Venezuela look like Switzerland.

Year to date, gold has been like a dutiful Saint Bernard. It pulled all of us out of an avalanche of snow and continues to revive of us with the barrel of brandy around its neck. It has behaved, and continues to behave, exactly as it should. It is really important to understand that as we look back in time, we see an asset that not only responds to current demand, it also responds to the current policy initiatives of "those in power that would try to save us." So, these desperate measures being undertaken by banco-politico alliances across the globe are the reasons that I am buying more on any weakness that appears.

Tactically, on the assumption that we will see a $2,000/ounce gold price by 2021, the biggest leverage comes in owning the marginal producers, but even more so in the developers. The developers that own gold ounces in the ground, but not yet mined, represent outstanding upside because if they are valued at $20 per ounce for a deposit carrying an AISC (all-in sustaining cost) of US$1,500/oz., they will get a $100/ounce lift as their profitability moves from $150 to $500/ounce. That one-million-ounce deposit valued at $20 million gets suddenly rerated to $120 million, and whereas the price of gold advanced 21%, the value of the company rose by 600%. This is the epitome of leverage in the world of gold mining.

While the list of companies that fall into the "developer/explorer" category is reserved for subscribers, there are a few that have been outstanding performers. Two of these "penny dreadfuls hit 2020 highs this week and both are gold deals. The same thing is going to happen when silver finally breaks out of its bear market. But for now, the marginal producers and nascent gold producer/developers are the place to be.

The chart of silver shown above, containing some Fibonacci levels covering the peak-to-trough crash, offers some guidance, and while I do not pretend to be a technical analyst by any stretch, silver has finally scratched its way above that first resistance at US$14.38/ounce, with the next two levels possible. To turn the near-term trend positive (i.e., something more than a dead-cat bounce), we need a solid close above US$16.08/ounce.

Back in November the Fed's REPO actions began to accelerate, making it appear evident that the Fed was content to let the economy run "hot" for "awhile" in order to jumpstart productivity. This was a clear signal to many of us that all was not well with the U.S. economy, and while people shrugged it off as a temporary problem brought on by Trump's Trade War (with everyone), I surmised that it was going to have unintended consequences, which it did.

The constant interference in the paper markets include the Crimex in New Yord and the LBMA (London Bullion Market Association) in London, and as I wrote about in "A Tale of Two Markets" last week, investors are moving rapidly up the learning curve with this insatiable appetite for physical gold and silver. Seeing a paper market offering at US$14.55 for an ounce of digital silver, but having to pay US$23.87 for a deliverable ounce of the same metal with six-month lag time, is the largest and most malodorous smoking gun ever left at a murder scene. The banks are playing a totally different game with a totally different set of rules, and it will not end well.

I wrote in the Forecast issue that I fully expect to see a reset in the U.S. dollar gold price, prompted by the very people who have been resisting it for decades. Continuing along the path of "follow the money," look no further than U.S., the International Monetary Fund and Germany for the instigators of this collateral mark-up. The banco-politico alliance is not only out of new bullets, and not only are the old bullets having little to no impact, they have only one option left, and that is the gold holdings. They must re-collateralize their precious banks and they have only one means to do that—they must re-price their only remaining collateral.

With the bullion bank shorts still at uncomfortably high levels (280,000 plus), it could not come at a more propitious time.

Welcome to the New World Order of "Rigged Market Socialism."

Follow Michael Ballanger on Twitter @MiningJunkie.

Originally trained during the inflationary 1970s, Michael Ballanger is a graduate of Saint Louis University where he earned a Bachelor of Science in finance and a Bachelor of Art in marketing before completing post-graduate work at the Wharton School of Finance. With more than 30 years of experience as a junior mining and exploration specialist, as well as a solid background in corporate finance, Ballanger's adherence to the concept of "Hard Assets" allows him to focus the practice on selecting opportunities in the global resource sector with emphasis on the precious metals exploration and development sector. Ballanger takes great pleasure in visiting mineral properties around the globe in the never-ending hunt for early-stage opportunities.

Sign up for our FREE newsletter at: www.streetwisereports.com/get-news

Disclosure: 1) Statements and opinions expressed are the opinions of Michael Ballanger and not of Streetwise Reports or its officers. Michael Ballanger is wholly responsible for the validity of the statements. Streetwise Reports was not involved in any aspect of the article preparation. Michael Ballanger was not paid by Streetwise Reports LLC for this article. Streetwise Reports was not paid by the author to publish or syndicate this article. 2) This article does not constitute investment advice. Each reader is encouraged to consult with his or her individual financial professional and any action a reader takes as a result of information presented here is his or her own responsibility. By opening this page, each reader accepts and agrees to Streetwise Reports' terms of use and full legal disclaimer. This article is not a solicitation for investment. Streetwise Reports does not render general or specific investment advice and the information on Streetwise Reports should not be considered a recommendation to buy or sell any security. Streetwise Reports does not endorse or recommend the business, products, services or securities of any company mentioned on Streetwise Reports. 3) From time to time, Streetwise Reports LLC and its directors, officers, employees or members of their families, as well as persons interviewed for articles and interviews on the site, may have a long or short position in securities mentioned. Directors, officers, employees or members of their immediate families are prohibited from making purchases and/or sales of those securities in the open market or otherwise from the time of the interview or the decision to write an article until three business days after the publication of the interview or article. The foregoing prohibition does not apply to articles that in substance only restate previously published company releases.

Charts provided by the author.

Michael Ballanger Disclaimer: This letter makes no guarantee or warranty on the accuracy or completeness of the data provided. Nothing contained herein is intended or shall be deemed to be investment advice, implied or otherwise. This letter represents my views and replicates trades that I am making but nothing more than that. Always consult your registered advisor to assist you with your investments. I accept no liability for any loss arising from the use of the data contained on this letter. Options and junior mining stocks contain a high level of risk that may result in the loss of part or all invested capital and therefore are suitable for experienced and professional investors and traders only. One should be familiar with the risks involved in junior mining and options trading and we recommend consulting a financial adviser if you feel you do not understand the risks involved.

from The Gold Report - Streetwise Exclusive Articles Full Text https://ift.tt/3aPLwfi