#has anyone listed all the jumps he did in a row????

[tsarinajissa]

Rewatching RonCap and LMEY before I have to go into work and it goes away forever.

This was just so incredible.

[fruitmins]

Victory | namjoon

➭ summary: in which Namjoon is a wolf hybrid who has a dark past with humans that ultimately landed him in a boxing ring, so he tries his very hardest to hate every single one of them. Even his mate, who happens to be a human nurse who works for the boxing ring. But everything changes when he finds you bleeding out with marks all around you..

➭genre: hybrid x reader, drabble, angst, mate au

➭warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of killing, he gets protective real quick, hybrid abuse, a couple had words, the ending…

➭note: finals week Tuesday. i hate everything

“You’re winner, by knockout. RM!” Muffled cheers filled his stiff bloody wolf ears as the announcer dramatically swung his arm in the air.

No one cared about the other unconscious hybrid who was in a pool of his own blood on the other side of the cage. RM didn’t either. It wouldn’t be the first time he would have killed someone in the ring. The only thing he cared about was victory. The victory that would land him dinner and a day off.

Despite it being in his stage name, RM wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t always like this. He used to care about other things before he was shoved into the cage. Forced to entertain and damage himself and other for human entertainment.

RM spit out a wad of blood that had gathered in his mouth. He didn’t smile at the cheers, because they weren’t necessarily for him. It was for the people who had won money from bets.

“Alright let’s go.” A nasty shriveled male voice told him over the screams as he was yanked by the air and dragged by two men with vest and face masks to his room.

RM thought they were bold for their harsh movements. He had just beaten a lion hybrid to a plump, surely he could take them out. They should respect him. But the taser had boosted their ego. Tasers did damage, especially after a bloody match. That was the only thing stopping RM from clawing their face off as they shoved him in his small room.

Unlike when he lost, he was put in a room with lights. There was a semi-comfortable bed and old tv. That’s what winners get. A bed, tv and dinner. Losers get a dark black cold space where you sit and are placed on a list till a nurse sees you.

Since this was RM’s fifth win in a row he was placed higher on the list and his nurse came only thirty minutes later.

He could smell you as you came down the hall. Your calm and sweet scent filled his nostrils rather quickly. It always stood out from the other nurses. One of the reasons were that unlike you, other nurses hated treating such a beast like himself. They always smelled nervous and afraid.

Of course another main reason was that your scent was stronger than anyone else’s to him. Simply because you were his mate. There was no other way around it. His wolf had practically screamed it at him the first time you came to treat him. He’d never forget the upset and startled look on your face when he had suddenly jumped away from you with a growl.

You didn’t treat him that day, but he made a promise to never frighten you again. Instead he’d stay still while you treated him, answering your questions about his lungs or feet when you needed him too. It started a habit of you blabbering to him, either about his match or things on your mind. Human Namjoon wouldn’t admit it, but something inside calmed him whenever you spoke. There was a sense of calmness from you that transferred to him whenever you talked for to long.

Which was exactly what you did the minute you entered the room.

“Good evening, Namjoon.” You said with a sweet voice as you peeked your head through the door. Once you saw his familiar muscular build you came in, shutting the door.

He silently bowed to you, something in him telling him to be respectful. Like everyone else you had a taser on you but never used it. For you, it was as if it wasn’t attached to your hip. And unlike everyone else, you didn’t call him RM. You called him his actual name. How you found out he didn’t know.

“Congrats on the win.” You said once your light body hit the edge of the bed. “I heard a bunch of people doubting you. That you could never get up to five wins in a row, especially against a lion hybrid.” Your voice was mocking as you playfully rolled your eyes at whoever you were talking about.

“But I didn’t doubt you..” there was proudness in your tone and your words made him tense. He shouted at his wolf not to dance because of your praise. “You know you could beat the record for most wins in a row. It’s only seven.”

It was always weird how you were so comfortable about the fact that he almost tortured people for a living. So comfortable around him when he had almost killed a man a half hour ago.

He always wondered how you got yourself mixed into the mess. You could have been a doctor with your skills. So why weren’t you?

He tried not to dwell to much on you. Caring for humans almost killed him. He couldn’t make the same mistake, even if you were different.

“I can’t believe they haven’t gotten you your dinner yet.” You stated as you treated his knuckles. He didn’t flinch at the alcohol that poured onto his cuts before your wrapped it.

“Anything hurt? Teeth? Lungs? Feet? Legs? Tail?” You asked him routinely as you held up a water bottle. Without asking, Namjoon opened his mouth as you poured the water into his mouth. He stared at you curiously as you filled some water in his mouth before stopping.

He didn’t swallow it, swishing the water around his sore mouth before spitting it into a plastic cup that you were now holding. Water and a bit of blood came back.

“No pain.” He spoke for the first time, his voice coming back rough and deep as you hummed. “That’s a relief.” You whispered and he looked down, trying to keep his emotions in check. Why did you care so much about his condition? Probably because he was making you money no less.

“I’ll cry the day you break a bone.” You huffed and his ears twitched. You had been saying things that hinted you cared about him lately. He didn’t believe you, not for a second. But it still caught him off guard. And somehow, he did not like the thought of your beautiful doe eyes being red from crying. He’d have to be extra careful.

“Why would you cry?” He couldn’t help but ask. You were a nurse for God’s sake. You even treated the people he beat. Why would him breaking a bone be so horrible?

“I don’t know, I’ve never been good with seeing friends or people I know hurt. My dad came home with a broken leg once and I almost threw up.” You answered unfazed by his sudden interest. But this made him more curious. Friend? Were they friends? Maybe he was overreacting.

You talked about your dad sometimes. Not a bunch but more than you talked about your mother, which surprised him since you were so girlish and respectful. Who taught you that if not a mother?

“This’ll hurt.” You state before putting some alcohol on a cut that was on his forehead. It stung a little, but he didn’t flinch. He just watched your concentrated face as you worked your magic. He could admit that you were pretty, but even pretty humans couldn’t be trusted.

“I don’t know why but, I feel more comfortable around you than the other hybrids. Like, warm and fuzzy.. Is that weird?” You suddenly spoke as you planted a small bandaid on the cut.

Namjoon didn’t answer, instead he just looked away shamefully. No, it wasn’t weird. It was because they were mates. They were bonding. Namjoon had let his guard down and bonded with his human mate.

—————————

Two days later, he got his sixth win.

There were louder cheers when he won this match. He could tell people were getting more hype the more he fought. Your words came back to him. The thought of beating the record on everyone’s minds. The bullied rookie no longer stood. People no longer booed when he won. They screamed and blasted confetti. He didn’t know why, but he had become a fan favorite.

But still, you were his biggest fan of them all. You practically came skipping into the room forty minutes after the win. He could smell your excitement down the hall, but something else he could sense in your smell.

Another hybrid. Male. Lion.

His wolf hated it. He hated it. The smell made his nose burn and the thought of some other hybrid being all over his mate made his jaw clench. Especially a Lion.

“Good evening, superstar.” You greeted him with a smile, despite his nasty expression. “Everyone’s talking about you breaking the record. No pressure but I’d be big if you do. Just one more and you’ll tie and that’s already a huge accomplishment.” You we’re quick to ramble this time as you sat at the edge of the bed.

He hesitated to meet you at the edge like usual. He’d go crazy if he smelt more lion. You noticed and frowned as you looked at him with a confused expression.

“You stink.” He answered your wordless question with in a rough and disgusted tone. He could fight through a lot of things (literally) but not this. It was actually starting to make him ill in the chest.

“I took a shower this morning..” you mumbled to yourself taking your confused eyes away from him to look down at your visible skin.

You wore a tight pink shirt and paired it with a medium length white skirt that somehow wasn’t stained. A skinny black belt held it all together that matched the flats you wore. No wonder a lion had scented you. He bit the inside of his injured cheek in rage. Someone had marked you their territory.

“No. Like lion.” He clarified in a deep voice. He couldn’t let you be walking around here with everyone thinking you belonged to someone you didn’t.

“Oh.” You chirped as if suddenly realizing something. You had forgotten hybrids keen sense of smell. “Jay was extra close today..” you uttered. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Extra close his ass. He seemed to be all over you.

“If it bothers you that much…you have permission to scent me.” You suddenly offer in a low voice as he watched blush creep up to your cheeks. He doesn’t know why you offered, or how you even know that’s what he wanted to do. But he doesn’t take a second to think about it.

He scoots himself so his directly behind you while you’re at the edge of the bed. He wraps his arms around you and settles his interlocks hands on your stomach. He hesitates before taking in the little of your original smell that he can sense before planting his face on your neck.

He sits there for a while. He can obviously feel how nervous you had become so he takes a while to let you cool down. He lets himself get lost in the warm feeling of holding you like a mate should. He gets lost in the fantasy that maybe things can work. And when he notices that you’ve calmed down too, he begins to nuzzle his face into your neck.

He can sense how shy your getting but he moves slow not going lower than your shoulders until he finally forced himself to move away.

What the fuck was he doing? Snuggling up to some human girl he didn’t even know. Human girls like you abused him every chance they got. Did he forget about the taser locked to your side. How could his wolf betray him like this? How could he put himself in danger? You worked for the boxing ring that abused his kind. As sweet and innocent as you seemed, you couldn’t be that innocent.

He sat there in silence for the rest of the check up in silence. For the first time he didn’t listen to you rambling about the match or your childhood stories.

He was trying to fix the damage he had caused.

—————————

Two days later he got his seventh win in a row.

He knew you would be thrilled and despite everything, he was looking forward to your praise. He knew you would be proud of him, even if he didn’t officially past the record yet.

At one point in the match he started fighting for you rather than his survival. His mind was stuck on you the entire match. Once he felt like he was losing, he thought about how disappointed you would be in him. How much you were rooting for him and wanted him to succeed. How much he needed to see you happy again. That was enough to have him win the match.

And when his opponent had the audacity to land a punch on his stomach… He killed him.

And like any other time. He didn’t care. He cared about the victory. And he would do it again if he had to.

He was so wrapped up in his own mind that he hadn’t realized a unfamiliar person had made their way to his room until the person knocked on the door.

His body stiffened.

You never knock on the door. You poked your head through first, but never full on knocked. He always wondered why you don’t. It was almost like you knew that he knew about your presence.

Something snapped in him when he realized your sweet scent was no where to he found. Instead someones terrified scent replaced you and it made him crazy. He knew your schedule. Including you, there were only three nurses. You worked the days he fought, another nurse worked the days he didn’t. And another nurse for the weekends.

You were scheduled today so where were you? He asked himself angrily.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked in a firm and deep voice. Not giving the person any permission to enter.

“I-I don’t know. She didn’t show up today.” The female voice answers in a shaky tone. This doesn’t make him any less angrier or anxious. “I’m subbing till she shows up.”

You were missing. You had disappeared and instead of looking for you they replaced you with some weak idiot. He quickly got worried and protective. Wherever you were you needed to get found now. And he wasn’t counting on humans to find you. With their horrible sense it would take days to find you and he wasn’t willing to go that long without knowing you were okay. Not after he let his wolf bond with you.

Despite it being forbidden to leave the room, and he would most liking be spotted by the hundreds of cameras he quickly decided he had to find you himself. He didn’t care about the victory anymore. He didn’t care about breaking the record. He cared about you.

He stood up from the bed and it was easy for him to swing open the locked door, not even having to use his claws to tar through the lock. The woman’s eyes widen in shock when his tall huff figure was suddenly in front of her.

“Use that taser and your dead by the time the buzzing stops.” He threatens her with a low and assertive tone. He doesn’t give the poor nurse time to reply. He knew he scared her enough and with how shaky her hands were she would probably miss him anyways.

Now, he just had to find you before they found him.

Despite it being one of the biggest illegal hybrid boxing organizations, the building was small. There were three levels, the main level, the security/employee level and the basement. The basement consisted of the loser rooms and mostly plumbing and electrical wires. The security system and employee work stations were the highest level. The main level consisted of the main area and the winner rooms.

And then there was outside.

Somewhere Namjoon and the other prisoners were forbidden. It was impossible to make it outside anyways. The guards that had guns instead of taser, combined with the electric fence made it clear that anyone who tried to escape would be dealt with.

Namjoon had heard many stories about great fighters who died trying to escape. The place made hybrids insane. But the only thing that seemed to make Namjoon insane was the fact that you were missing. He would step outside if you were there.

Namjoon had just gotten done searching most of the first floor when he smells it. Your scent. It’s faint and sour but it’s you. Something in him tells him to follow it.

Now, it’s a race. A race for Namjoon to find you before they capture him. Because he knows that by now they have noticed him frantically searching everywhere for you on the camera. A huge wolf hybrid roaming around was sure to catch eyes.

He follows the scent, desperate to find out what was wrong and it leads him to the basement. This was his least favorite place to be, but he quickly enters anyways.

There’s an open hallway that leads to the loser cage, and to the right leads him to all the plumbing. Despite how horrible it smelt, your scent got stronger.

His ears perk when he can now smell blood in your scent. Pools of blood. Your scent isn’t just sour anymore, he can smell your fear. It was so strong it felt like your scent was calling out to him.

He quickly changes his pace from speed walking, to fill on sprinting down the hallway and to the right. The plumbing room is more like a corner it’s so small, so he quickly sees your bloody figure laid flat on the floor.

His face turns red as his heart thumps and for the first time in years he’s feels like he might die. He can barely breathe and his body becomes shaky.

He quickly runs to you, plopping down on his knees and taking you in his lap. He can see your face now, which is dangerously pale and filled with scars and bruises.

You can barely lift up your eyes to look at him, but when you do a small painful smile makes it’s way to your face. “Joon…” you manage to say in a shaky voice.

“Who did this? I need a name, a species, a smell for fucks sake.” He growls and he doesn’t realize he is in tears till one falls on your face.

“Please, don’t do anything crazy.” You plead when you see the absolute rage and heartbreak expression on his face, his hands wrapping around you tighter as he holds you close.

“I have already,” he states again to your confused face and he swallows a lump in his throat before answering. “I accepted you as my mate.” He reveals with a shaky voice.

Your eyes widen and you slowly lift up your hand to caress his face and wipe his tears. He grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest. “So tell me, who did this to you so they can hurt as much as they hurt us.” He says again and you open your mouth to reply to him but something behind him quickly steals your attention.

You let out a gasp as your eyes widen and filled with terror. Just as he realizes a bunch of heavy footsteps have made their way into the small space you yell.

“No, wait! Please! He didn’t do it—!“

Before you can explain and anyone can take in your words, three tranquilizer darts are suddenly shot into Namjoon’s back.

His body stills and tenses up before his eyes roll to the back of his head and he collapses into your blood pool.

Your cries are the last thing you both hear before the world turns black and cold.

[rosemarycovet]

billy loomis/stu macher x ‘theater/musical kid’ reader

billy

-when I say you annoy billy I mean you ANNOY him😭

-out of no where you start singing and he just side eyes glances at you and roll his eyes with dramatic boom effects 💀

-billy comes to every one of your shows and is either asleep or always admiring you

-billy threatens anyone who is also signing up for the role you want

-he doesn’t want you playing in any romantic scenes that include you kissing/you having a romantic moment with your theater cast mate

-do to jealousy and him being possessive over you

-the only time billy allowed it was in Romeo and Juliet

-Sidney was playing Juliet and steve orths was playing Romeo but steve had bailed and never showed up for the play he barely ever showed up for rehearsal he only showed up when he felt like it so you had to put matters into your own hands and play romeo (if you know this reference Ily 😸it’s literally the photo as well😭✋) You were pissed not because you had to kiss Sidney

-no,you were pissed because steve had bailed now you had to remember your lines as romeo in under a couple hours and had to put a ridiculous wig on It did not look that good on you💀

-billy and randy were sitting in one of the front rows

-billy was falling asleep not paying attention until he hear randy say

“wait..is that (y/n?!”

-randy asked surprised

that caught Billy’s attention when billy realized it was you he was dying of laughter you could hear his laugh all the way in the audience you were so annoyed and pressed by his taunting laugh he actually started crying from how ridiculous you looked

-billy finds it attractive if how competitive you get to get the role you want

-as highly as it annoys billy that you’re a theater/musical kid it makes him happy seeing smile on stage it warms his dark cold heart

-some times billy even invites himself to your rehearsal insisting he should stay

“billy you really don’t have to be here it’s just rehearsal”

“no no no (y/n) you always insist I watch you rehearse ”

“I don’t tho-“

“shh shh shh” he cut you off putting his index up to your mouth shushing you

-you shake your head in annoyance joining your group

-billy rolled his eyes at your group as they rambled and practiced their lines

-but when you talk he was all eyes one you

-surprising to billy he actually liked watching you get into character he like watching you over exaggerate with your act/facial expression

stu

-stu is always fan girling when he sees you on stage in character

-when ever your on stage he has stars in his eyes (they sparkle for you)

-always cheering the loudest for you

-for every one of your shows he buys you a bouquet of flowers to congratulate you

-side eyes/gives sassy attitude to anyone who is trying to get your role

-he would gladly help you reenact/practice your lines/parts

-he thinks it’s fun getting into character with you even if he isn’t apart of the play

-he also finds it cute seeing you act/getting into character

-he loves helping you backstage get dressed into your character

-stu and tatum are your personal make up artist

-whenever the sheets of who got the parts are up on the boards stu yanks your hand running down the halls to see the list

-stu waited outside your class waiting for you to come out ‘c’mon (y/n/n’ stu was getting impatient waiting for you

right when you walked out of class stu yanked your hand “W0ah” you yelped out as you and stu zooming down the halls

when stu ‘politely’ pushed everyone out the way he saw the chart and you got the role you wanted both you and stu squealed as you jumped up and down

-stu was so happy that you were happy he loved seeing your cheeky smile

-stu would give stank face to any one who thought you sucked

-because in stu eyes you were his favorite and best ‘actor’

-you were his theater/musical geek

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

52 Pick Up: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Summary: This case involves a misogynistic man that thinks women is God’s gift to men, and you need him to help you solve this case. Meanwhile, Spencer goes through a *minor* crisis about your relationship, but he sees you for the woman you truly are.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

The class mentioned in the newspaper isn't the one you're looking for since after calling the number, the man on the other line was very helpful and wanted to better men instead of changing who they are. His message in the newspaper needs a little work, but he's clean.

News of another murder pops up, but this time, it's in broad daylight. Usually, the unsub would go to a club at night and would kill them so the body wouldn't be found until the next morning. A woman named Becky Williams was found on the sidewalk outside of her apartment. It looks like she was pushed or jumped, but that's why you're here.

Emily and Hotch are upstairs while you, Rossi, Derek, and Spencer are down by the street. There is a big blood stain where Becky was found, and you look up to see how high the balcony is. Instead of seeing police presence, you see Becky. The unsub is behind her. From where you're standing, it looks like they're talking, but you know they're arguing based on the energy they're both giving off.

His is angry red while hers is scared blue.

Two minutes later, he pushes her off the landing, and you take a step back so that she doesn't hit you. You close your eyes before she can hit the ground, and when you open them, you're back in the present time.

"What did you see?" Rossi asks.

"She was pushed. I saw them both arguing, and he pushed her off the landing. Have any of you been upstairs yet?"

"Yeah, and what's weird is that the cleaning supplies were set out, but there were no traces of them on her body," Derek says.

"Why would the unsub alter his signature and push her out of an eight-story window? Gutting and cleaning are what he has to do to find release. He wouldn't change that."

"Why not? He's changed everything else about himself."

"Did anyone see the unsub?"

"There were no surveillance cameras at the club. Becky's friends say she was talking to a guy with sunglasses."

"Sunglasses?" Spencer mutters to himself.

"I'm going to go upstairs and see if I can get a better view of Becky and the unsub." You walk upstairs to join Emily and Hotch. From up here, you can see them better, but the outline of the unsub changes the longer you stare at it. You fill in the blanks yourself like putting the fedora on his head or putting sunglasses over his eyes, but it's very messy. "I see them, but it's very messy. He's trying to be a million different people all at once."

"So, why did he pull out the cleaning supplies and then not use them?" Hotch asks.

"In all the other scenes, the bottles were arranged in a precise order. Here they're just part of the mess."

"Maybe she fought back. When Becky went over the railing, his routine had been compromised because he knew the police would respond. He struck two Fridays in a row, and if his routine's been interrupted, it might compel him to strike again."

"It's Saturday. The clubs are going to be packed tonight."

"Take a look at the classes the unsub might have taken. We need to generate a suspect pool as soon as possible," Hotch says to you.

"Okay."

Besides what you can see, no one is getting anything out of this crime scene since it's so different from the other one. Spencer has a theory about a new pattern that is emerging, but he needs Penelope to manipulate the sketch Detective Harding got. While you get the information for Hotch, Spencer shows Hotch and Rossi what his theory is.

"Garcia, are you ready?"

"Sending it now. Please be aware that thirty minutes with Photoshop does not allow for much artistic flourish," Penelope says over the line.

"Both times the unsub has gone to a club, he's had some costume, but now there's a theme." As he talks about the different objects the unsub uses, Penelope puts those things on the sketch. "A fedora and colored contacts or sunglasses. Each time, he's obscuring this area." 'This area' being the area around his eyes. "Now, yes, maybe he's trying to draw attention to him, but maybe he's trying to draw attention away from here."

"Maybe he has a scar or a birthmark which is easily identifiable."

"We need to get these out. Jordan, release these to the press," Hotch says.

Jordan gathers the press very quickly since they're eager to hear what the police have to say, and you're watching from the TV.

"We're encouraging women to be on the lookout for this man. He has been seen at Club Omega and at Suffragette City. We believe he may be attending similar nightclubs in the Midtown District. He may have a scar or a birthmark on his left eye. Based on witness descriptions and captured images, the suspect is white, mid-to-late twenties, and I repeat, he may have a scar or a birthmark."

"Hotch," you say when you approach him.

"What did you find out?"

"Of the twenty self-described pickup artist classes in the area, there's only one guy who encourages his students to dress like space cowboys. Are you ready to meet Viper?" you say and show him one of his fliers. "Like I said before, douche."

"You're up," Hotch smiles.

"Lucky me."

Viper is having a class right now, so you accompany Hotch and Derek to see the kind of bullshit he is spewing to his "students". He's in the middle of class when you arrive, and you stand off to the side and listen to what he has to say.

"Men are put on this earth to hunt women, and even though women deny it, they want to be hunted. They need it. It's part of our biological imperative as animals, and the competition the opposite sex puts you through is all to reassure themselves that they have brought home the best possible mate."

"Is he serious?" you scoff and cross your arms.

"It's just like you," Viper says to his students. "They want someone who's gonna make their eyeballs roll back in their head. My job is to help you slash past every defense, every excuse, every, 'why don't you meet my friend' trick that they're gonna throw at you. You may not have ripped abs or be able to afford table service, but if you're smarter and more interesting, then you will be a better predator. This is the jungle, my friends, and your prey wants to be caught."

"I'm going to throw up in my mouth," you groan.

"Will you listen to that language? He's training serial killers."

"Not only is he a douche, but he's a rampant narcissist and a misogynist."

Viper ends his class early when he sees you three waiting for him at the door. His students filter out of the small ballroom, and you approach him with a fake smile on your face. As Hotch explains to him what's going on, Viper doesn't seem all that interested at the possibility a serial killer attended his class.

"So, you think this unsub took my class?"

"He copied your 'the camera adds ten pounds' routine verbatim."

"Yeah, that's a good gag."

You're not so amused by his comments and behavior, and the quicker you get what you came here for, the sooner you can leave.

"If you could just give us your attendance lists, it might help us find him."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"My clients expect a certain amount of confidentiality. I won't compromise that."

"We can come back with a warrant," Hotch shrugs.

"Be my guest, but keep in mind, the money I make doesn't just pay for my fabulous lifestyle. It also keeps some very expensive lawyers on retainer."

"What club did you go to last night?" you ask.

Viper looks you up and down, and you get a sick feeling in your stomach. You've never wanted Spencer more than at this moment. All you want to do is punch Viper in the face. Derek sees the look in your eyes, and he takes over before you blow up on the man.

"It's a legitimate question. You seem to know a lot about our investigation."

"There are two things to learn about me. First, I outwit alpha males like you for fun and sometimes profit. How often do you have to rely on your badge to score, baldy? Second, last night, I was at Club Aqua, and I have a stack of tax-deductible drink receipts to back up my story. Now, you might not want to believe that my style works, and here in this harsh light, you have the advantage." He looks at you and smirks. "But meet me on my turf... Oh, the things I could make you do."

You open your mouth to say something, but Hotch pulls you back so you don't. He takes out his card and hands it over to him.

"If you have any questions, give us a call."

You're the first one to leave because if you stayed any longer, you might have gotten arrested for violence.

"You know I wanted to punch him, right? I was going to."

"I know," Hotch chuckles. "Keep your cool. We're not done with him yet."

You head back to the police station, and you make a beeline to Spencer who is confused by the look on your face. You pull him into a hug and bury your face into his chest.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I need a hug. Viper is a pain in the ass and a misogynist at heart." You tell Spencer exactly what happened, but before he can say anything to voice his concerns, you lean up and kiss his cheek. "I'm okay though. I handled it. Well, Hotch did, but I'll be okay."

Hotch called Penelope to ask for all of Viper's students as well as to send Spencer everything this guy supposedly teaches. It's best to start building a linguistic profile. It's going to take her some time, but you know she'll pull through.

Rossi walks into the station with a young woman who looks like she doesn't want to be here.

"Hotch, this is Melissa Foster. She recognized the sketch."

"I'm SSA Hotchner and this is SSA Y/N. Thank you for coming in. Are you sure you've seen this man?"

"Yeah, I gave him the scar."

"Did you meet him in a club?"

"No. I was a prostitute." Hotch leads you, Rossi, and Melissa to an empty conference room to talk. "This happened about a year ago, and I was in bad shape. My girl, Cheryl, told me if I put an ad in the paper, it'd be safer than walking the streets. One day I got a call to meet some guy at a motel. As soon as I walked in, I knew something was wrong. He couldn't meet my eye, and he paced for the first half-hour. I tried to get him to relax so I could relax, but all he wanted to do was rant."

"What did he say?" you ask.

"He said I was the help. I had customers like this all the time. They work out one of two ways. Either they want to tie you up, and you just say no or they want to be tied up, in which case you do it and you steal their wallet."

"He didn't want to tie you up, did he?"

"No. Do you know what I remember about the whole thing? It wasn't the pain that sent him running. It was the mess."

"There's no record of your attack. Why didn't you come forward?"

"I wasn't ready to tell it yet. I was this close to dying for two weeks, and when I got back on my feet, I realized I didn't want to live like that anymore. If he hadn't attacked me, I would have OD'd. He saved my life."

"I think we've got our profile," you say to your bosses.

"Thank you for your time. If you have any other questions, please give me a call."

Hotch gives her his card before she leaves, and Detective Harding gathers all of her men and women to listen to the profile.

"Our unsub is a confident alpha male. He's white, between the ages of twenty-five and thirty, and he's in excellent physical shape to overpower women as well as to feed his self-image. He has an obsession with cleaning. He probably works in some service industry and is convinced everyone looks down on him. His change in himself and his victimology reflects that," Rossi begins.

"This is the kind of guy who wants to stand out in a crowd. He's taken a class on how to pick up women. So, he'll repeat a series of well-rehearsed lines and mind games. He may be uneducated, but he's by no means stupid. Taking this class has given him the ability to read verbal cues and body language."

"One classic routine Viper promotes is called the push-pull. He'll insert himself between two women, and immediately after complimenting one, he'll deliver a subtle insult before paying attention to the other," Spencer explains before turning to Jordan. "Those are really nice earrings. I like those."

"Thanks," she blushes.

"My grandmother wears a lot of fake jewelry also. It looks nice." The officers chuckle at his demonstration, and Jordan blushes in embarrassment. "Ignoring the one woman puts her in direct competition with her friend and causes the other to pursue you more aggressively." He turns to Jordan with an apologetic look. "I was just demonstrating. I'm sorry."

"Well, we've mapped the hot spots he hits, and he frequents the same clubs that Viper does so we need eyes and ears in every single one," Rachel says to her team.

"Circulate the sketch as widely as possible. We'll need everyone aware that there's a killer out there. Thank you very much."

In order to work this as efficiently as possible, you have a feeling Hotch will need your team to go to one of the popular clubs and blend in to catch the unsub before he strikes. Hotch confirms this when he directs everyone to dress up for tonight.

"I think I might just stay home and man the tip line tonight. Clubs aren't really my thing," Spencer chuckles.

"Don't worry, I'll go with you. I'll need to fend off all the ladies," you chuckle.

"Actually, there is another angle we need to pursue," Rossi says. "We still don't know what made the unsub change his victimology and move into the clubs. The answer might be something in Viper's class, but to figure that out, we need to profile the teacher."

"You need to bait him with someone he sees as a challenge," Derek says and looks at you.

"We need to study his style up close and personal. It's gonna take someone that he's already attracted to."

You notice everyone staring at you, and you gasp at Spencer's words.

"Spencer!"

"You said you could handle it."

"Fine," you sigh and turn to Derek. "You fend off the ladies then."

"Okay."

This is really going to suck, but if it keeps the killer off the street, then you have to do this.

x

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[sadiecoocoo]

Halbarry Week

relationships - Barry Allen/Hal Jordan (Green Lantern), Hal Jordan (Green Lantern) & Bruce Wayne

tags - Whump, Angst, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Torture, Barry Allen Whump, Barry Allen Needs a Hug, Barry Allen-centric, Protective Hal Jordan (Green Lantern), Hal Jordan (Green Lantern) Needs A Hug, Tags Are Hard, Not Beta Read, hurt/comfort, hurt Barry Allen, Blood and Injury

summary - Barry is captured and tortured by a serial killer that the CCPD has been looking for. Hal, noticing his friend is missing, goes looking for him only to find his apartment empty and devoid of life. so, naturally, he freaks out and calls the league and makes them all do a search party of the entire planet.

lowkey too lazy to do a proper summary other than this.

word count - 6,165

read on AO3

Notes: Just a warning, I have not read a single DC comic in my life. Any knowledge that I have is from animated movies/shows and fanfiction. you have been warned (also I don't know any character names in Central's police force so i simply did not name anyone :3) anyways, I didn't finish this in time for Halbarry week, @halbarryweekfeed but I was doing this for the one bad day prompt!

Barry’s leg bounced up and down as he sat at the League meeting. His hands were clasped together and he was fidgeting with his fingers. Batman was standing and giving the briefing, a paper in his hand.

The others were all listening intently, aside from Hal, who never really seemed to listen to anyone. Which, Barry couldn’t really blame him. He was feeling rather impatient himself at the moment.

He had caught himself multiple times switching into relative time, his leg bouncing faster and faster until it seemed like everyone else was moving in slow motion. Whenever it did happen, he would force his leg to still, despite the mental agony it caused him.

He couldn’t count how many all nighters he had had in a row at the CCPD. There was some new serial killer on the loose, and it was all hands on deck to catch him. Sadly, all hands on deck meant zero breaks unless it was his day off, and being the Flash, that wasn’t really a feasible thing.

Hal nudged his shoulder, making him jump ever so slightly. He glanced towards the lantern to see a small, teasing grin. Barry rolled his eyes and pushed his shoulder in retaliation. He was sure Hal was getting a kick out of him of all people not listening.

He tried to tune in to the conversation. They were halfway through something about another meta-trafficking cartel being discovered. He frowned, it seemed like every day there were more and more of those popping up. At least Diana had already taken care of this one.

There was a list of kids that were found there, and a list that had passed through, but already been moved. He clenched his fist at the sight of the long list of names.

As they all moved on to a different topic, he started to zone out again. His foot tapped against the floor, eliciting a few pointed looks from a few other members. He glanced around the room several times, taking in almost every detail while barely processing it. He couldn’t count the amount of times he stared at the clock.

When the meeting finally ended, he didn’t waste a millisecond to get to the zeta tube. Within minutes, he was running around Central and headed towards home, only stopping to grab a box of donuts.

He practically collapsed on the couch immediately once he got home. He barely spared a moment to change back into civilian clothes. He ate a couple of donuts as he debated going on to sleep or powering through for a quick patrol.

The decision was made for him when he got a text from the CCPD. He groaned inwardly at the notification. He was starting to think he may never get the chance to sleep again.

As he looked over the text, his mood soured once again. Another victim from the killer was found. This was the fourth in two weeks, giving the killer a total of ten victims. 

Barry once again suited up and headed for the crime scene, stopping in an alley a few blocks away to change again.

Once he made it to the actual scene, an abandoned house near the suburbs, it was already getting fairly dark. He really hated how long League meetings lasted.

There were a couple of cop cars around the building, their lights flashing brightly. As he ducked under the tape line, he showed his badge and was let through.

He entered the building, placing blue plastic gloves over his hands. Barry frowned at the bloody state the room was in. The walls were covered with blood splatters, as if the killer had flicked a paint brush around.

There was a body near the middle of the room. He crouched down to examine the man. His gloves got bloodied as he gently turned the man’s head to see his slit neck. Maybe the killer really did try to paint the walls.

“This is what all the other scenes look like.” Another cop mumbled. Barry nodded. He hadn’t had the chance to get to the scene yet.

“We know any similarities between the victims?” He asked, looking up at the woman.

“Only that they’re all men and blonde.” She said with a shrug. Barry hummed. “Hey, maybe we could use you as bait.” She added with a laugh.

Barry rolled his eyes, but didn’t answer. He looked over the body again, finding nothing else of use, then stood up again.

“You know the drill, search for fingerprints and the like. Check to see if this isn’t just his blood.” He said, pointing to the woman. After receiving a quick nod, he went into another room to a similar sight.

There wasn’t another body, thankfully, but the walls still had multiple blood splatters. Other than that, there wasn’t much evidence of a struggle. All the furniture, though old and currently covered in blood, seemed to be in place.

So far all they knew about the killer’s M.O. was that they went blonde guys (Maybe he should use himself as bait…), and they liked to make a mess of things, though they killed their victims quickly.

All the bodies he had analyzed looked fairly healthy, only a few bruises indicating any injury at all, though one had a broken nose. The only injury that was constant in each victim was the slit neck and practically being drained of blood.

He stood in the middle of the room, turning to take in as much as possible. There wasn’t a pattern in the blood, just random splotches here and there. This just felt like another dead end.

Barry let out a rough sigh, shaking his head in frustration. He then left the room and headed out of the house.

“I’ll take a look at all of the evidence at home, hopefully I’ll have something next time you see me,” he told the other officer. “Send me any pictures taken.” He added. She nodded, muttering a quick good luck.

He stalked off back towards his home, walking a couple blocks before speeding away. This time, when he reached home, he didn’t bother sparing a second to debate sleeping.

He was out in seconds.

Hal kept on shooting glances at the empty seat next to him. Barry should have been here already, even if he had a habit of being late to everything. 

He would still always call or text Hal to let him know, yet his phone was devoid of any notifications from the speedster. He checked again anyway, just to be sure.

What’s worse, Barry had barely talked to him after the last league meeting. He had just zoned out the entire time, then left immediately. Hal was going to offer dinner (though Barry probably would’ve ended up paying anyway), but didn’t get the chance.

He wasn’t really sure if he was actually worried or not. Like he said, Barry was always late. He was honestly mainly annoyed that Barry hadn’t bothered to let him know. It felt like he was ghosting him, even though he knew Barry could never be that petty to do to anyone . It’s not like anything happened between them anyway.

If Barry was at the meeting or not, Bruce still started. Hal was almost jealous of Barry when the bat started to piss him off. He bet Bruce regretted not waiting for the speedster after that argument.

Once it was finally over, Hal decided he might as well go full Barry in on what he missed. He flew towards the man’s house, landing in an alley not too far away. He couldn’t count the amount of times Barry scolded him for flying right up to his door in full costume.

Once he made it to the door, he knocked and waited for an answer. After about three seconds, because Barry barely takes over one to answer the door, he knocked again. Half a minute, no answer.

Okay, maybe he was getting a little worried. The lantern got out his spare key and stuck it into the keyhole, only to find that the door was unlocked. Shit, he was definitely worried now.

“Hey ‘Bar?” He called through the house. He walked through the lifeless house, stopping in each room the search for the blonde. He frowned as the only sign of life that he spotted was the ruffled sheets of his bed. He hadn’t even made his bed, what the hell was going on!?

Hey, where are you? He sent a quick text, hoping that he’d see it. Then he added, I’m at your place, how’s a movie night sound? Just in case. He knew it’d be awkward to just go out and say he was worried about where he was just for missing one meeting.

When it was well past a minute and he was still left on delivered, his frown deepened. He walked over to the couch and plopped down with a rough sigh.

He was probably just busy with work stuff. He had mentioned something about a serial killer giving the CCPD trouble. Of course they would get their best guy to work overtime because of it. He was just making this out to be bigger than it is.

He could just wait here for an answer. He knew Barry wouldn’t really mind anyway if he stuck around for a minute or two. Maybe he should order some food for when Barry got back.

Purely because he was bored and felt fidgety, he checked his phone again. Still no answer. He sighed again, then thought he might as well check the news. Maybe he wasn’t at the CCPD and was taking care of one of his rogues.

He turned in the TV, then threw the remote to the side and leaned back. The reporter was in the middle of talking about the newest missing persons case. Barry had mentioned a few of those had been popping up.

He almost choked on his own spit when the picture of said newest person appeared on the screen. He stared for several seconds at the image of a blonde man with blue eyes and the best smile in the universe. And then he stared down at the bright red, bold letters under the image screaming MISSING . Then he looked down at the name below them.

Barry Allen .

Hal didn’t think he’d ever flown as fast as he finally made it back to the watchtower. Who knows, maybe he would’ve actually beat Barry there if they were racing. His chest ached with the thought.

Barry was missing, as Barry Allen . He wasn’t the Flash when he went missing, he was just Barry. And if he hadn’t already escaped in the fucking week he’s been missing, that meant he couldn’t use his powers.

A week. Hal could hardly believe it. How could he have not noticed that for an entire week his best friend was gone? How did he not notice the lack of the Flash stopping crime or running around the country each day for a morning jog?

The lantern ran through the halls of the watchtower, almost barreling into Shazam on his way to the monitor room.

Spooky was sitting in the chair in front of several screens. Thank god he actually listened during the meeting to know that Bruce was on monitor duty today, he really didn’t want to waste time going all the way to Gotham.

“Bruce!” He called, running up to him, “we’ve got a really big problem.” He said urgently.

Bruce frowned at him and turned away from the monitors.

“What’s going on?” He asked, thankfully not wasting time being annoyed. No matter how much Spooky might piss him off sometimes, Hal was glad for his straight to business behavior.

“Barry’s missing- like, missing missing.” He explained. Hal pushed Bruce out of the way and took over the keyboard of the monitor. He pulled up the news in Central.

The anchor had long since moved on to another topic, but Barry’s picture with those damning letters under it was still in the corner. He clenched his fists at seeing it again.

“I’ll notify the league.” Bruce said, sounding strained. Hal glanced at him, and the bat’s ever present frown seemed to have much more concern and worry than the usual annoyance.

“I’ll fly over Central. My ring might be able to find him if it locks onto his Speedforce thingy.” Hal said quickly.

“How long has he been missing?” Bruce asked as he typed away on the keyboard. A few messages went out to the rest of the league giving them the rundown.

“News said a week.” Hal answered. He was practically bounced in anticipation to keep moving. But, Batman needed to know all the information if he was gonna be able to find Barry.

“Something must be dampening his powers if he hasn’t escaped yet,” Bruce said, almost to himself. “Or he’s trying not to blow his cover.” He added as several screens popped up with different cameras around Central.

“No, Bar knows how to hide his powers and still use them. He would’ve found a way out.” Hal corrected. Which, wow, he didn’t think he’d actually done that right before. Correcting Batman on something felt like a dream come true.

“I called Iris too,” Hal added, “she hadn’t seen him since before the last league meeting.” He had started to fidget with his hands. God, he felt as restless as Barry during any meeting that could’ve been an email.

He really needed to stop thinking about Barry. It was making him worry more with each passing second.

Batman let out a hum, then pulled up another video camera. Hal blinked at the video feed of cop cars and flashing lights. He shared a glance with Bruce.

Soon enough, Barry showed up to the scene. Hal watched as he ducked under the police tape and showed an officer his badge. Then the blonde went into the old looking building after being pointed towards it.

“What are we looking at?” Hal asked. Bruce held up a hand, causing Hal to roll his eyes. The camera switched seconds later to inside the building.

Barry was just walking in, putting sterile gloves on after he shut the door behind him. Hal scrunched up his nose to the bloody sight of the room. There was a body in the middle, looking incredibly pale.

They watched as Barry did the usual looking over of the body, then handed him off to another officer. He went into another room.

“There aren’t any cameras in there.” Bruce supplied after a few seconds of him typing away. Hal grumbled something unintelligible at that. 

Though, it didn’t matter much, as Barry walked out a moment later. He was shaking his head with a worried expression.

The speedster walked over to the other officer, said something to her, then patted her on the shoulder. Afterwards, he left the building. Bruce switched back to the outside cameras and they watched as he left the scene.

“That was his last known whereabouts.” Bruce stated. Hal felt his fingernails dig into the palm of his hand, leaving little crescent indents in the skin. 

“I’ll check it out.” Hal offered with little hesitation. Bruce nodded and continued flipping through cameras around Central.

Hal rushed off back down to the city, hoping this time he’d at least find a lead.

Barry’s vision was blurry and unfocused. He felt insanely tired, and even more hungry. He wasn’t sure when the last time he ate was.

He was tied to an old, rickety chair. The ropes dug into his skin and left little burns there. He let out a quiet breath as he once again tried to strain the rope and possibly loosen it.

There was an IV sticking into his arm, constantly supplying him with some sort of drug that messed up his speed. He couldn’t vibrate to get loose and he couldn’t run away even if he did.

There were several cuts and bruises on his face. A large purple bruise had formed around his ribs after being kicked multiple times by his kidnapper.

The room itself he was trapped in looked like an old basement. The floor was concrete with several stains, some of which were disturbingly red. There were wooden steps leading up to a deteriorating door.

If he wasn’t so worried about his own wellbeing, he’d be really embarrassed. To be captured by the serial killer you’ve been trying to catch is some embarrassing stuff. Hal would get a kick out of it.

He hoped Hal had at least realized he was missing. Maybe it would be on the news by now. Wally was probably worried sick.

Barry flinched as the door to his little cellar opened. The wooden steps creaked as someone came down. He kept his head down, trying to pretend to still be unconscious.

Several times his captor had come down, purely to torture him. He hadn’t done this with any of his other victims. Barry got the sense that he was trying to send a message to the CCPD when they found Barry.

His captor approached the chair Barry was tied to. The blonde looked up through his lashes to see that the man was holding a metal pipe. Why did they always have blunt objects?

He nudged Barry’s foot, then, when the speedster didn’t react, he kicked him in the shins. Barry let out a gasp as pain flared up in his leg.

His captor, a man with a painted hockey mask and wearing all black aside from that, grabbed the roots of Barry’s hair. He held up his head and forced Barry to look in the eyes of his mask.

Barry looked wide-eyed at his captor, glancing down to the metal pipe. The masked man gripped his hair tighter and tugged. Barry let out a small groan. He was too tired to try and silence it.

“You gonna talk?” He asked in a gruff and muffled voice. Barry still wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but he wouldn’t say a damn thing either way.

He sneered at the man, fixing him with a glare that might actually rival Batman’s. In retaliation the man pushes Barry’s head back into the chair. There was a small thud when it connected 

Before he had the chance to recover, the metal pipe was swung agaisnt his nose, making a loud crack. He gasped as blood gushed down his face and over his shirt. Some got in his mouth and he gagged at the taste.

As his head started to lull, the man pushed him back against the chair again.

“Shit-headed meta,” the man said like a curse, “Fuckin’ say something!” Barry only stared at him.

The man let out a frustrated growl, then reared back. Barry clenched his eyes shut as he prepared for another blow. It hit his stomach and crunomed as spittle flew from his mouth. He coughed and gasped as he tried to breath.

When he felt like he could finally breathe again, the man had left. He warily looked around the room, but found nothing.

Barry let himself fall limp. He was tired. He wanted to sleep. He wanted his injuries to heal already.

He hoped someone had figured out he was in trouble.

Hal’s ring lit up the dark building. The cleanup crew had taken care of all the blood pretty decently, but he hoped his ring would pick up something that might help.

This was their only lead. He had called Wally and Iris and neither had seen Barry since he was labeled missing. Neither had any of his coworkers, both from the CCPD and the League.

The little search light of his ring lit up the area where the body was found. It made an outline like the ones in the movies. Hal had to force himself to not think of Barry being stuck like that.

He turned away and went into the other room Barry had. There were a lot of places that the clean up crew missed in this room. Various splotches were left in random places. They all belonged to the victim, there was nothing that could be the killer.

He could hardly believe that Barry fell victim to a serial killer. He must have been in a really shitty situation if he hadn’t found a way to escape.

Hal shook his head with a sigh. His brow was furrowed in worry. He placed a finger to his communicator in his ear, contacting Bruce.

“Hey spooky, you find anything else?” Hal asked. He would never admit out loud, but Bruce was probably the best detective in the world. If anyone would be able to get a lead, it’d be him.

Maybe. He responded after a moment. He sounded hesitant, like he didn’t have much hope on whatever he found. It’s a stretch, but can you scan the door knob? Look for any sign of drugs. He said. Hal guessed the man was watching him in cameras, so he nodded.

Hal went back into the first room and pointed his ring at the door knob on the outside. There were light green outlines that appeared like a black light looking for fingerprints.

“Found something.” Hal informed Batman. “You think he was drugged?” He asked, though he thought he already knew the answer.

He hadn’t put on the gloves until after he entered the room, the door knob was laced with something. It must have taken a bit of time to affect him. Bruce explained. Hal nodded with a hum.

“I’ll search for any other traces of it in the city.” He declared, bringing his ring up to ask about it.

It gave a couple of different locations. He frowned again. It might take too long to search all of them, he’d already wasted too much time already.

“I’ve got a lot of different locations, I’m gonna need help to search them all.” He said. There was a quick affirmative from Bruce.

Hal let out another sigh, then left the building. The killer would probably be keeping Barry somewhere in the suburbs, like all the other victims. He checked his ring again, then flew off in the direction it told him.

It was getting dark now. Soon it would be another full day that Barry’s been missing.

The chair Barry was still tied to was knocked over. His head hit the floor with a loud thud. He let out a small gasp.

The IV had been ripped from his arm on accident, and blood flowed from the wound and pooled on the floor.

The man let out a sharp curse. He then made a frustrated noise and kicked Barry in his side again. He let out a pained wheeze at the blow.

Even if he wasn’t being given a constant supply of the drug, it would still take way too long for it to wear off. He was still utterly defenseless.

Barry coughed several times, droplets of blood being splattered on the floor.

Then he was kicked again, this time in the face. His already broken nose flared up in pain. He let out a yelp as he tried to wrench his hands towards his face.

The ropes holding them in place dug into his wrists. He let out another gasp as he looked up at the masked man looming over him. A metal object was shining in his hand.

Barry stared up at the scalpel glinting in the dim lighting. He sneered at the man as best he could with a broken nose and bloodied teeth.

The man grabbed the roots of his hair and pulled him up. Barry scrunched up his nose and breathed hard. He tried throwing his best bat-glare at the man.

“You’re really fucking annoyin’, y’know?” The man sneered. Barry let out a huff.

“N-next time I’ll try to be nicer to my k-kidnapper.” He spat out in response, along with the glob of blood aimed at the man’s shirt.

He was thrown back again, his head hitting the chair for what felt like the millionth time. Then the man slapped his cheek and a stinging feeling creeped its way into joining the rest of the collection of pain.

“I’mma cut you up and paint the walls!” The man threatened, brandishing the scalpel and putting it dangerously close to Barry’s cheek. Honestly, Barry thought he might just want to get it over with.

The man cut the ropes tying him to the chair, cutting his wrists and ankles in the process as Barry tried to suppress a hiss of pain. He then grabbed Barry by the neck and lifted him up off of the chair.

Barry’s hands immediately clutched and clawed at the man’s wrists, leaving droplets of blood on him.

He could just barely see his eyes now. They looked crazed and gleeful. He wanted to gag.

The man squeezed his throat. Barry tried to suck in a breath, but it was blocked. He sputtered and gasped.

The speedster looked around wildly, trying to find something that could help him. He tried kicking the man’s shins but it did little to nothing.

He was tired and hungry. He was working on little to no fuel and his speed was still dampened.

Tears pooled in Barry’s eyes. He blinked them away and again tried to glare at the man.

There was an amused huff, as if the man thought it absurd that Barry was even trying. He gave one more squeeze on Barry’s throat, eliciting a wheeze from the blonde, then threw him against the wall.

Barry crumpled to the ground, his shaky legs refusing to support his weight despite how much he needed them to. He clenched his fists, scraping his fingernails against the concrete floor as he fought to push himself back up.

The man put his foot on Barry’s back, forcing him back down. He groaned as it disturbed his bruised ribs.

Barry looked back up at the man, only to be met with another kick to the face.

He let out a grunt, then fell limp. He blinked slowly, looking at the man out of the corner of his eye. He strained again, one last effort to get up, but his body slammed back into the ground.

He squeezed his eyes closed, expecting them to never open again. 

There were hands on him. They felt cold but gentle. They glided over his body and prodded around. He let out a whimper when they pressed into his side.

A hand moved to his face, gently cupping his cheek. He was pulled close to someone’s chest and held there.

“Hey, ‘Bar,” someone said, making him jump. “It’s gonna be okay.” They continued. They sounded a little panicked, but relieved.

Barry scrunched up his nose and tried to open his eyes. His vision was blurry, but he could make a familiar figure glowing with a soothing green light.

“Hey-“ Hal said, but it broke off into a small sob. “Hey.” He repeated. A small smile graced his lips then.

Barry opened his mouth to say something, but it only ended in a small coughing fit. Hal pulled him closer protectively. Barry’s head was pressed against his chest.

“Hey.” Barry rasped out. Hal moved the hand cupping his cheek to run through his hair. Barry leaned into the touch gratefully.

“I’m gonna get you to the tower.” Hal promised, moving his other arm underneath Barry’s knees.

He picked him up, holding him in an iron grip that somehow still felt soft. Barry felt himself be lifted from the ground, then after a few moments wind rushed through his hair.

He looked blearily up at Hal again. His jaw was set firmly, quivering occasionally. Hal was crying.

Barry had been asleep for several hours now. After Hal had rushed him over to the watchtower, they had to get him into the medbay. Apparently he had several broken bones, including his nose, which had been hit multiple times according to J’onn.

The speedster had been given a constant supply of the same drug that had taken him out in the first place. It was messing with his powers, but didn’t do a thing about his metabolism.

Hal feel Barry’s ribs when he had been holding before. The blonde’s cheeks had been sunken and bloody. The circles under his eyes had been several shades darker than usual.

Hal had almost killed the man that took him. If Bruce hadn’t met him there, he probably would have. Damn him and his no kill rule, if there should be any exception it should’ve been for him.

But no, now the psycho was in a cell in Central. His only consolation was that the CCPD took it a lot more personally since Barry was a victim.

Even so, he would rather take the fucker all the way to the cells on Oa than let him be anywhere near Barry. It felt like a stretch just letting him be on the same planet, let alone city, as Bar’.

Hal let out a huff as he stared into the viewing window into the med-bay. J’onn was still in there, tapping away on some document as he did a few final checks.

He had already come out and inform everyone that Barry was stable. Ollie had clasped him on the shoulder then and given him the most reassuring smile he could offer Hal.

Despite everything pointing to a full recovery in the works, Hal refused to let his eyes stray from Barry’s unconscious form. He only never looked away to glance at the heart monitor or to blink.

He perked up as J’onn entered the room again. His face was set in the ever present frown that probably only Spooky could read. It wasn’t really reassuring at the moment.

“He will be alright.” J’onn reassured with a soft nod. “There is nothing else to be done but wait.” He declared. Hal nodded silently as J’onn passed him.

Once the Martian left the room, he wasted no time in moving Barry’s bedside. He grabbed a chair and rolled it over to the bed. The lantern practically collapsed in it.

Now that he was actually in the room with all of the medical equipment, he could hear the steady beeping of the heart monitor mimicking Barry’s heart. He glanced over to it, watching the green line rise and fall in a pattern.

He turned back towards the speedster. The blood had been cleaned off his face, and his broken nose had been set. None of the bruises had healed yet, though. He imagined that if he took off the bandage covering Barry’s stomach and chest, he would see one nasty bruise.

Instead, he pulled the thin covers over Barry, lifting up his hand so he wouldn’t disturb the IV.

He looked pale, and those dark circles were still there. His brow was furrowed, as if he were having a nightmare. Hal would’ve been surprised if he wasn’t, though.

“Hey, Bar’?” He whispered, leaning close to the speedster. He placed a hand on his forehead, rubbing his thumb over Barry’s brow.

Barry let out a small sound. It didn’t sound very distressed, so Hal thought he must have been doing a decent enough job.

The blonde leaned into Hal’s hand. His facial features relaxed. Hal felt himself sag as his mission was accomplished.

Hal rested his head on the side of the bed, his arms crossed. He looked at the little bruises and cuts on Barry’s face with a frown that looked more like a pout.

Even after being beat up and almost killed, Hal couldn’t deny how beautiful Barry still seemed. He hated imagining how scared he looked when Hal first found him. No one deserved to go through something like that, especially not him.

Hal moved his hand to intertwine with Barry’s. He held it tightly, like a lifeline. It was weird, he was the one desperate to feel Barry’s warmth, and yet Barry was the one who was almost on his deathbed.

He squeezed the blonde’s hand. He thought he could feel the slightest twitch of Barry’s fingers in response, but didn’t dare to hope.

He knew he would be okay, he knew , but he had to see it. He had to see Barry open his eyes again and smile at him like he was looking upon an angel. Even though, between the two, Barry was the saint.

Barry stared up at the white ceiling of the medbay. He had seen it enough times to know where he was without needing to overlook the whole room. Which was good, because he thought that even just turning his head would make him pass out.

He felt exhausted and hungry, like he had just run a couple hundred laps around the earth. Everything felt sore, and didn’t think he even had the strength to twitch his fingers.

Nevertheless, he tried anyway. He clenched his hands into fists as he fought to sit up.

Barry flinched when another hand squeezed his. He quickly turned his head, eliciting a wave of nausea and dizziness. He let his head fall back onto the pillow and scrunched up his eyes. 

“Easy, Bar’.” A voice that Barry would always recognize soothed. Barry squeezed his hand again as he lazily turned to look at him.

“Hey,” he said, his voice scratchy. He smiled at Hal as brightly as he could. He didn’t doubt that he looked horrible though.

“I was really worried.” Hal admitted, frowning as he sat up. His hand stayed in its place though, and Barry couldn’t complain about that.

“You? Worried?” Barry teased, “Am I in the wrong timeline?” He said with a light laugh that devolved into a few rough coughs.

“Oh, shut up.” Hal shot back with an eye roll. He held a glass of water up to Barry’s lips and the blonde grandly took the offering.

“So what all happened?” Barry asked, “I was kind of asleep for a bit.” He said lightly, though he knew it would reach his eyes.

Hal let out a rough sigh as his face fell. His shoulders sagged and he pushed his face onto the bed again.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Barry fidgeted with a frayed end of the cover and waited patiently. At some point he moved his free hand to run through Hal’s hair.

“I guess we’ve both had a pretty bad day, huh?” Barry said, just to fill the silence with something more bearable.

Hal moved his hand to clutch onto Barry’s as the blonde messed with Hal’s hair.

“Pretty bad week.” Hal muttered in response. 

Barry’s eyes widened. He let out a rough and shook his head. He hadn’t thought he’d been gone for an entire week. How was he supposed to explain to anyone what happened and why the Justice League of all people came to save him.

“Shit.” Barry grumbled, sinked against the pillow. Hal let out an amused huff. He turned his head to face Barry again.

He smiled beautifully at the blonde, but it wasn’t as joyous or mischievous as his usual smiles.

He seemed to realize that his attempt at a grin failed miserably, and his features sobered. Barry returned his frown with a creased brow and concerned gaze.

“I thought you were dead, when I finally found you.” He admitted, closing his eyes mournfully. 

Barry looked down again at the frayed covers. He could never say it out loud, lest he wanted to break down sobbing as all the pressure came crashing down, but he thought he would be dead too. How ironic would that be? Some guy killed the great Flash when alien invasions and super villains failed relentlessly.

“You were so still , and the guy was standing above you. Both of you were covered in blood.” The Lantern continued. His voice shook as he spoke. Then the two relapsed into silence again.

Barry watched as a multitude of different expressions traveled across Hal’s face. It looked like he was fighting a war inside his head.

“I almost killed him, Bar’.” Hal admitted. He refused to meet Barry’s eyes. The blonde frowned.

“If Bruce hadn’t been there, that guy would be long dead.” His shoulders slumped at the admission. Barry studied Hal’s face, they way that his lip quivered and his eyes seemed glassy.

Barry placed a hand on Hal’s shoulder. He squeezed it gently to get his attention. The Lantern reluctantly looked up at him, misery painting his face.

“But he’s not dead,” Barry said once he was sure he had Hal’s attention, “And I’m right here.” He smiled fondly at the brunette.

Hal gave a reluctant smile in return. Barry moved his hand to cup the other man’s cheek. Hal leaned into the touch as Barry rubbed his thumb in small, soothing circles.

“We’re gonna be okay.” Barry promised.

“Yeah,” Hal agreed softly. 

End Notes: I kind of have a love hate relationship with this fic... it's my first ever halbarry fic, so I'm not too happy with how it turned out, but ik I just need to get used to their characters. until then, mindless whump and suffering!!! there's never enough whump :/ anyways, I'd love to see any comments, and I hope you have a lovely day <3

@itemreceived :)

[lunawings]

Animaniacs in Concert, 2/17/24 in Bristol, CT

Or, the story of how I ran into Rob Paulsen and immediately threw up.

Not on him, thankfully.

Where to begin? From the beginning, I guess.

I talk a lot about Japanese voice actors on this blog and I have almost no thoughts about American anime dub voice actors (no offense, I just don't know their work). However, if you asked me my favorite American cartoon voice actor, it's Rob Paulsen. I knew his voice before I even knew he existed, and if you ask me, he's one of the most recognizable male voice actors in Saturday morning cartoons.

He's probably most known as being Yakko on Animaniacs, and "half the Ninja Turtles" as he puts it. ("Maybe if I live to 102 I can voice all of them!") I also personally really liked him in The Mask cartoon, I think it's some of his best work. (Even though he was doing Jim Carey, he kind of wasn't at the same time. He made it his own.) But even beyond his leading roles, he just seems to pop up all sorts of places, and it always makes my day when I recognize him as additional voices.

While Japanese voice actors are often young and excessively beautiful people you're supposed to swoon over, 80s/90s American cartoon voice actors aren't... quite... the same. And yet. I sorta do, in a weird way. I mean I've known Rob Paulsen's voice for as long as my brain has been making memories and that's a pretty huge impact on a person. A few years back, I stumbled upon a few videos of him on YouTube attending cons performing Yakko's World and such, and I just loved his personality and energy so much. So, I added seeing him perform someday to my mental list of goals to accomplish if I ever returned to the US.

Fast forward again to the 2020s, the Animaniacs revival comes out on Hulu (I don't care what anyone says I freakin loved it) and I hear he's touring again with Animaniacs in Concert. I looked up the dates and none of them were remotely near me. As I checked back one day, mourning the possible missed opportunity and debating how far I might go, a new show popped up in Bristol, CT. How random, I thought. I checked if it was doable for me, and it was! It wasn't feasible as a day trip, but still doable. And once I saw there was one FRONT ROW SEAT LEFT, the deal was sealed as I quickly bought the ticket and reserved a room at the only hotel I could find in the area, the Bristol Double Tree.

Fast forward to yesterday. I arrived in Bristol just after noon following an uber and FOUR different buses. I'd woken up way too early, I was hungry and tired, and not feeling too great. I decided food would be my first plan of action, and since I didn't quite understand how to order room service (the menu wasn't loading on my phone anyway) and there wasn't anything within walking distance, I decided to just head downstairs and eat at the hotel restaurant/bar.

As I was waiting for my impossible burger and fries, I decided to take off the Yakko's World hoodie I'd been wearing.

I bought it specifically to wear to the show, and I'd already spilled a little coffee on it this morning and didn't want to risk having to wash it again. So I tucked it behind me in the booth.

Shortly after that, another group walked in and sat at the table next to me. An older guy and some ladies. I wasn't paying much attention to them as I thought they were maybe a part of the wedding party I heard was at the hotel. My food came and I focused on that.

But then someone else walked in and joined them. Someone I very much DID recognize. "Oh there you are!" "Hi, I'm Rob!"

The next moment is kind of a blur so I'm not exactly sure whether I jumped a little or if I did the dramatic eyes widen slow turn, but I definitely had some kind of a visible reaction as I looked over to the table. It was then that I locked eyes with who at that moment I first realized was Maurice Lamarche, voice of Brain (from Pinky and the Brain) and many MANY Futurama characters (more than I realized as I learned later). He was the older man I mentioned earlier, and had been sitting there the entire time. And at that moment I thought perhaps he knew everything. (Both the fact that I recognized the new person who had just walked in, and the fact that I hadn't recognized Maurice himself until now.)

So I'm pretty sure I have at least mild prosopagnosia (face blindness) so it is hard for me to recognize people right away.

But there was something I could never fail to recognize, and that was the voice of Rob Paulsen, who was the person who had just walked into the room and joined the table with Maurice.

I'm not sure how they knew the women they were dining with, but they were all catching up, asking them if they were going to the show, etc. I listened a bit as Rob happily talked to them about the impact of the show and its fans. Such as how devoted fans would actually fly in to see them and how the average age of the audience was about 40 (hah ha... not yet but I'm getting there). He even mentioned Tress MacNeille at one point! Maurice was right in my view, but Rob was at an angle where I couldn't see him without turning my head but oh lord it was definitely him.

I had no idea what to do at this point. Do I say something? Do I not? Would it be terrible to just say hi and that I'm looking forward to the show??

I've been to a lot of events with voice actors in the past, especially in Japan, but I still just... cannot handle meeting famous people that I admire. Actually seeing them up close is intense enough, but actually TALKING to them? I don't know how anyone can do it.

I'm reminded of Amari in Idol Land PriPara, that episode where she meets Hibiki...

Yeah, basically me. For the people who visualize in their head while they are reading something, just replace whatever you imagine I look like with Amari and this story will fit very well.

All while this is all racing through my mind, I'm still shoveling french fries into my mouth while trying (and probably failing) to stay calm and act normal (even though I'm pretty sure Maurice is onto me) and I soon realize I've got a couple fries stuck in my throat (as often happens when I'm eating without paying attention, as I'm a very fast eater). I exaggerated a little in my previous post when I said I was choking, but it was hard to swallow and I realized I'd have to sneak off to the bathroom to deal with it without causing any more of a scene. I basically threw my credit card on the table and ran, though (which was dumb in hindsight, but I didn't want anyone to think I was dine-dashing).

In the end, after I came back, I decided to just quietly pay the bill and leave without saying anything, scrunching and hiding my Yakko hoodie the best I could. I didn't want to interrupt them during their private time, and for that reason I didn't try to take any photos or videos either. So I have no proof that this happened but it very much did.

And it made sense, I realized later. I already knew that the Double Tree in Bristol was literally the only hotel in the area, where else would they be!!?

After leaving the table I was so worked up I basically walked straight out of the hotel because I didn't know what else to do and headed to the Carosel Museum of New England where I killed at least two whole hours sitting on a bench looking at intricately carved 100+ year old wooden animals while nursing my exhaustion and caffeine cravings. (The museum isn't that big, I just literally did not know what else to do with myself.)

But I learned that most carousel horses are only decorated on the side that faces the customers. And since they were all hand-carved back then, the opposite side would often be carved by a less experienced carver in training or something. ISN'T THAT NEAT?

I thought that was neat.

Anyway.

Eventually I downed an energy drink I bought from a convenience store as I went on my way to the venue of the show.

I was still super early since I ran out of the hotel super early but there was already a crowd gathered outside. At first I didn't know this was the reason people had gathered, but the first 40 people to line up were eligible to sign up for a "meet-and-greet" with everyone after the show. And when I reached the front of the line, it was still open.

"Sure?" I said, not really fully understanding what I was signing up for. And so I headed inside.

The show opened with Yakko's Universe (SUCH A BEAUTIFUL SONG) and of course closed with Yakko's World as the finale. What came in between was quite random. Despite not being an actual cast member, the real star of the show was composer Randy Rogel. Rob of course voiced Yakko and his other characters, and Randy voiced... almost everyone else haha. Just using his own voice most of the time, but still. He sang as Dot a lot.

And it seemed like he picked the songs they played not necessarily by what songs were popular, but by what songs he and Rob had stories to talk about. For example, they did a bunch of songs from the failed show Histeria when Rob literally broke into tears (he was acting) while talking about how Randy had to actually, physically, go to a library to research the topics he was writing about back in those days. Randy also played an alternate version of the song LA DOT that had sat untouched in a folder for decades.

Rob's voice doesn't sound quite the same as it used to, as anyone who has seen the 2020 Animaniacs series would know, but he can still do it all! And considering he survived throat cancer, and came back to not only work again but sing live!? He sounds amazing!

Maurice Lamarche was also of course a part of the show, and although he only "sang" one song as Brain, his interactions in character as Brain with Rob as Pinky were probably the highlight of the whole show. (They did a whole "Who's on First" sketch talking about what countries to conquer, with Pinky misunderstanding "Hungary", "Turkey" and "Chili".)

Maurice also did a showcase of his voice, including so many other Animaniacs and Futurama characters I had no idea were him, not to mention frikkin Toucan Sam and the narrator of Lexus commercials.

The only thing that disappointed me a little about the show, was they didn't really do anything from the 2020 series, but I guess Randy wasn't as involved with the music in that. So, oh well.

I didn't take many photos/videos during the show, since I wasn't fully sure of the etiquette (still kinda have my Japan brain for these sort of things) and since I was in the front row I wanted to give them my full attention. I think there are plenty of videos online anyway, since at least one segment was one I'd already seen before.

So, after the show ended, people began to line up for the meet-and-greet, and it was then that I fully understood what I had gotten myself into.

Each of us would get about a minute to talk with them individually, get their signature, and get a picture if we wanted. I was really kicking myself for not bringing anything to sign! I really had no idea it would actually be an option! (In the days leading up to the show I had been looking at Rob's website where I noticed he normally charges $60 for an autograph, so I didn't think he would do it for free.)

But more importantly, I realized I was going to have to actually face them. TALK TO THEM. The exact thing I had run away from earlier in the day.

And again, I considered just running away. But I had taken a spot on that list. A spot that could have gone to someone else and it was too late to give away now. So, I told myself, I had to see this through. No matter what.

As the line inched closer I panicked over whether they would recognize me from the hotel or not as I rehearsed in my head over and over again all the things I could say. I was honestly juggling between two or three entire scripts by the time it was finally my turn and when realized... after all that...

I did not need to say anything.

Rob saw my hoodie ("It's me!") so he knew I was there for him, and he knew I was nervous. So he did all the talking. (After all, that is his job. Literally!) He took my hand and complimented my hoodie, my hair, and everything. He said so many nice things about me (I even got a "Hellooooo nurse!") and even broke the ice by introducing me to "his friend the Brain" so I got to shake hands with Maurice as well. (I STILL THINK HE KNEW. So I felt a little awkward then but other than that) it was just such a wonderful interaction. Rob was so nice and kind and I got the impression he really, really cares about his fans.

So I missed out on the autograph, but I did get a picture, and I left the entire experience feeling so warm and fuzzy and oddly complete. Childhood dream achieved.

It took me another four busses and an uber to get home today (I left around 8am, walked into my door after 4...) but it was all very worth it.

I'm mostly at peace with how things turned out, but if I ever get the chance to see them again, at a Comicon or whatever, I'll be sure to bring a Futurama DVD boxset for Maurice to sign and maybe try to acquire an old Animanics or Mask the Animated Series VHS for Rob!

You know, it's pretty ridiculous how easy it is to meet and get signatures from famous voice actors in this country. That almost never happens in Japan. I mean, I'm planning to go to an actual Love Live concert in Japan next month, and here I am oddly depressed I can't fly out to Seattle to see Chiemi and Coco at Sakura-con instead because I might get to actually meet MEET them there haha.

Even though it would be another disaster if I actually did.

Hahah...

[thefrankensteinplace]

Newsies UK Review (Dec. 3rd)

Brace yourselves because this will be long and rambling and will contain spoilers. I certainly haven’t covered everything or everyone, but I’ve covered a few of the things that particularly stood out to me and the people I felt particularly deserved a mention.

Just the whole set up. Shirtless Newsies getting ready for the day before carrying the banner started was a bonus, not least because it reminded me of carrying the banner starts in the film when they’re all in the lodging house getting ready. They were down on the stage rather than up in the scaffolding like on Broadway so I feel like you got a bit more of a scene setter and build up to it. And then one of them full on ziplines onto the stage, it was fabulous!! My friend who was with me described it as ‘a magic Mike entrance’ and whispered to me, ‘when are they gonna start stripping. Just the staging in generally was amazing. Having scaffolding all around so newsies could scale it at different points in the theatre as well as having the walkways between the seating was brilliant, because it meant all the chase scenes with Snyder could go through the audience and go up and down different levels, so like, Jack could run up a bit and escape then because they’d gone a different route, it was very clever. And during the World will know it meant that we had newsies marching on the spot right in front of us, sometimes turning to face us and I was grinning like a maniac, it was amazing!! There were 3 standing ovations. Three! I was expecting the one at the end, but the other two weren’t even at the end of the first act or something, they were both in sieze the day! One at the end and one at that moment when you think it’s about to end but they still have an extra bit to go. And it was one hundred percent deserved, the choreography was absolutely incredible. One of the guys did like a gazillion box jumps in a row, it was insane. Looking back at the cast list I think that was Ross Dorrington as Splasher but if anyone else who’s seen it could confirm or deny that would be great, as it is obviously hard to tell from a distance in the theatre. At first I thought this was gonna be instead of the ‘Ryan Steele spins’, but then we got those later on as well! There were even some break dancing style moves, it was ridiculously brilliant. I will say that I am a Javey shipper that has never truly understood Jatherine (which, disclaimer, may be partly because I’m a 92sies whore so I was a bit sore about the plot changes that introduced Katherine in the Broadway version, although I learnt to love her as I got used to the idea), but my god I changed my tune when I saw this performance. I don’t know what it was but there was just something different about Michael Ahomka-Lindsay and Bronté Barbé as Jack and Katherine. Part of me thinks it was just the way they kissed in something to believe in, y’know with his hands moving up her back and stuff, it was just *chefs kiss. But there was just something in their interactions as well, she was so snarky it was wonderful and you could just see it drawing him in. And like, when he strikes out at the beginning when he first sees her and she shuts him down I think you could see more of, her joy in doing that I suppose, and her amusement at him pursuing her that I feel was lacking slightly in the Broadway one. Like, you can tell more that her annoyance is kind of as much of an act as Jack’s postering is and I appreciate that because I feel you see the romance growing more rather than just being a sudden thing that happens. As much as I love Jeremy Jordan and Kara Lindsay I just felt it properly for the first time with these two. And he gives her a newsboy cap at the end which was super cute. Each of them individually were just astounding in their roles and really managed to bring a different flavour to both Jack and Katherine which was really lovely to see. Matthew Duckett as Crutchie is a fricking revelation. It was Marty Belafski who had my heart as Crutchie - he was the first iteration I saw and it was him that made me fall in love with the character. With Broadway, I already knew Andrew Keenan-Bolger, and loved him as Crutchie as well. Now it’s probably Matthew Duckett who just is Crutchie for me. I loved that he was taller than Jack for one thing, like in the original film, and that he was just generally like, a little grittier than Broadway Crutchie? He had a bit more of the Crutchie from the film who says, ‘I don’t want anybody carrying me. Never’, and who nicks food of Snyders plate to give to Jack. A little less relentless optimist and a little more world hardened, which I really enjoyed. And it doesn’t hurt that he had lovely shoulders which I had a great view of, as I was sitting in the second row from where they had a break in the seating that the cast used to run through the audience as such. Very annoyed that I just missed out on getting a pape from Crutchie himself. He waved one at us asking if anyone wanted a pape, and all of us just sat there in shocked, happy excitement, without realising that this was actually on offer to interact with the cast and not just like, part of the show. He threw it behind him into the audience members in front of us to our consternation and was then like, ‘yeah, now you want a pape’, and someone in front of me did then get one. It was amazing, and I can now say to everyone going, and if I go again, say yes to the pape! They actually mean to give them to you! I didn’t actually believe they would make Spot Conlon a girl but I stand corrected! Not only Spot but the whole of Brooklyn. In my humble opinion, not quite the same as Spot being a tiny but menacing little guy, but still very cool and great fun. And I loved that the girlsies were like, actually girlsies. Like, some of them had skirts and stuff, they were meant to be girls, not just, women filling in the men’s roles, which I absolutely loved! I think I would probably have preferred it if all the boroughs were just mixed to be honest, partly because it meant a lyric change to ‘we’re the girls from the beaches of Brighton’ rather than ‘we’re the boys from the beaches of Brighton, so we don’t get the alliteration which slightly irritated my brain although obviously it would have been weirder if they’d all sung that when they’re meant to be girls, but also because I just feel like it would have made for a more accurate representation, although if they’d done that I think I would have wanted them to keep Spot as a girl. Ultimately though, I did understand why they did it like they did, as it really packed a punch, and it made sense why Spot wasn’t in the cast list as they obviously wanted to keep this as a surprise twist. It honestly was a great moment. King of New York!! It was phenomenal!! They swung from ceiling lights!!! Honestly it felt like a little homage to 92s when Damien lucero spins on the ceiling fan, as there was a moment when some of them did spins from them, as well as them swinging about like Tarzan on them. Honestly, I did feel like the choreography from this as well as sieze the day was better than Broadway. There were just so many surprises. Although Katherine did tap a bit she didn’t seem to have as much of a ‘moment’ as Kara Lindsay got, when the newsies are encouraging her to dance, so that was a shame, but they did dress her up like the Statue of Liberty which was wild and amazing. The newsies bringing on all the props! It was so good. Hilariously Katherine thanked them when they put together her desk for watch what happens, but my favourite was when they did Pulitzers office because they were all just lounging around for a bit before Pulitzer and everyone came on. I’m pretty sure on of them was was sitting in his chair at one point before scurrying off. It was great. Cameron Blakely was wonderful as Pulitzer. A great voice, and I just loved his portrayal of the character. Some funny moments because it’s Cameron Blakely but still managing to be very sinister when it counted. The line that really stood out to me from him was when he grabs Katherine’s arm in the Bottom Line Reprise singing ‘too bad you’ve no family, but you can’t have mine’. Oof. Davey was glorious. He was just so soft somehow, which was very endearing, although I was slightly disappointed that he didn’t seem to loose any of his clothes on the way as is the Davey tradition in both the film and on Broadway. Having said that, he seemed less buttoned-up, in terms of his costume, to begin with than either of the previous David’s. His exasperation at Les, like when he’s staring at the Bowery beauties or when he announces that he has a girlfriend, was continuously on point. And his beginning of sieze the day was absolutely beautiful. I’m still annoyed that Davey has no solo song though. Medda was fabulous of course! I felt there could have been a bit more of ‘wink wink nudge nudging’ over the nature of her relationship with Teddy Roosevelt, but essentially she truly understood the assignment. And her Bowery Beauties costume she wore for That’s Rich was gorgeous. Being previews there were a few sound issues which was a shame, and they’d run out of programmes by the time I arrived (how a theatre runs out of programmes I’ll never know, but hopefully those issues will be sorted out by opening night. Overall, an insanely brilliant night out - glorious show, stellar dancing and singing, still so thrilled that Newsies came to the UK and that I had a chance to see it, 10 years on from the Broadway production I truly never thought it would happen and I’m so glad that it did.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Forever Begins Now - An Angel Reyes/OC Short Story.

Here they are, besties! Back again! I’ve tagged the usual beautiful people, but if you want in on the tagl list, you’ve only to DM me and ask. For those viewing this with brand new eyes, the prequel to the story, Edge of Seventeen is where it all began, and can be found here.

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,550

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Stunned. She was completely and utterly stunned as she stood there, the breeze in her hair and the warm sand beneath her feet, suddenly feeling a little shaky. As her mouth dropped open, Bella felt herself begin to tingle all over, staring at him wordlessly. Did he really just ask her to marry him?  

“B! Shit baby, don’t leave me hanging here!”  

“I’m sorry!” she blurted, shaking her head a little, her mouth widening. “I’m just... you really want to marry me?”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, laughing softly. “I ain’t in the habit of asking just anyone, you know! So, will you?”

Her reply was instant. And loud. “Yes!” Pulling him down to her level, she kissed him, squeaking with excitement, while Angel breathed an internal sigh of relief, happiness flooding him entirely. “Yes!” Oh, she could get louder. Jumping up into his arms, she felt herself swung around. “YES!” Louder still, but he didn’t care. She’d said yes. They were engaged.  

“I don’t have a ring, because I didn’t exactly plan this, but perhaps it’s better this way,” he began, Bella hushing him with another kiss.  

“That’s what I love about it, that it was spur of the moment!”  

“I meant that it means you can choose your own, but we can go with that, as well,” he grinned, Bella wrapping her legs around him, resting her forehead against his. “Do you have any fucking idea how happy you’ve made me? You’re gonna be my wife, wow. I can’t wait.”  

She was thoughtful for a few moments, her grin beginning to grow. “Has the club got anything big coming up, as far as outlaw endeavours go, anything you have to be present for?”

“Actually, no,” he confirmed. “He just did a drop a few days ago, as you know, so we’re good for a few weeks. Why?”  

“Let’s elope! Well, you can ask some of the guys if they want to come with, but fuck it. Shall we just go up to Vegas and get married?”  

The small smile he wore began to grow, spreading across his face. “To use your words, fuck it. Why not?”  

What had begun as a lazy morning soon swirled into an afternoon of activity, both heading back up to the house and dressing, Angel insisting he purchase a ring for her that very afternoon.  

“There’s no rush, big sexy,” Bella spoke, locking up the house. “It doesn’t have to be this afternoon, and goodness knows, it might not be. You know how indecisive I can be, and that’s just over where I want to eat dinner.”  

“Well then better we start now, don’t you think?” She saw his point. They headed down to Santo Padre, Angel not having the same funds in his bank account as he did in the safe within his bedroom, once which after they’d arrived back and he’d opened, Bella almost passed out at seeing the contents of.  

“Jesus on wheels!” she cried. “How much fucking cash do you have in there?”

He shrugged, taking out a ten grand wedge. “I dunno, twenty, twenty-five?”

“Thousand?!” Her eyes were almost out on stalks.  

“Outlawing is profitable, and I can’t put it in the bank, I only have me to spend it on, and other than my bike, I’m low maintenance, so it racks up. I’m taking a big chunk to Vegas with me, see how much I can fucking add onto it.” He always insisted on paying for everything, but Bella hadn’t ever had a clue before that moment just how well off her soon to be husband was. He could be dirt poor, though, and she’d love him just as much. “Oh, in case you ever need access to it, the code is my birthday backwards.”  

Leaving the house, they headed into town, hitting the first jewellery store at just gone 2pm. Angel could tell from the rows upon rows of generic solitaire rings that it wasn’t Bella’s vibe from the moment they walked in, his fiancé crinkling her nose and shaking her head before they walked to the next store. No luck there, either.  

“Do you have any idea what you’d like?” he asked as they walked to the next one, three blocks from the second.  

“I know this is going to sound frustrating, but I think I’ll know when I see it,” she began, offering him a cigarette as she lit one of her own. “I definitely don’t want something that looks like anything else. It has to be unique.”

“Just like you, baby girl.” He was thoughtful for a few moments, Bella running a hand through her hair, Angel catching a glimpse of the blue amber ring he’d bought her, for what he’d thought to be her nineteenth birthday, the ring he’d still wanted her to have after they’d parted, on account of the birthday he’d missed only being her seventeenth. “Hold up, come on, back to the bike. I know where we’re going.”  

A half hour later and they were parking up on a side street in San Diego, a short walk away from Nova, the jewellery store Angel had tracked down the blue amber ring to after searching high and low for a source on the elusive gem. Everything at Nova was handmade by the husband and wife who owned the store, the atmosphere warm, guests greeted by Sage, their Golden Retriever dog, who ambled out from behind the stained wooden counter, her tail softly wagging.  

The vibe was completely different to the usual highly polished, false light, buttoned up jewellery stores, the bright lights a few watts less offensive, the air perfumed with earthy incense, candles and salt lamps adding a cosy atmosphere to the shop.  

“Good afternoon, both of you,” the woman behind the counter greeted them with warmly, smiling as Sage enjoyed Bella giving her a thorough ear rub while perusing the trays of rings. “Just browsing, or did you have something specific in mind?”  

“We just got engaged,” Bella confirmed, the woman clasping her hands together, her bright, genuine smile widening.

“Many blessings to you! What a beautiful occasion. Well, these rings here are all a little more casual, but if you move to this display over here on the right, we have a collection more befitting of such.” Gesturing with an outstretched arm, her many dainty bracelets tinkling against one another, Bella stepped over, Sage ambling back to her bed behind the counter. Looking down at the display, it took all of ten seconds before she gasped and pointed. “That one! Oh my god, that one!!”  

“Ahh, the alexandrite. I know it sounds trite, but this honestly is one of my favourite pieces. The stone of love and inner wealth, how perfect that it should be the one you are drawn to,” the woman explained, unlocking the case and pulling the ring from its place within the cushioned display. “As you’ll notice, it is mostly a bluish green in hue, but alexandrite does shapeshift somewhat, in so much as in different lights it’ll appear purple, too. Very striking. It is natural stone as well, as opposed to man made.”

The stone itself was a wide teardrop, set on a platinum band with small diamonds, set either side of two diamond adorned crescent moons. It was beautiful and unique, just like the girl who slid it onto her finger. “It’s a little tight, but oh, I love it!” Bella cooed, holding her hand up to the light, watching it twinkle. Angel didn’t even care how much it was.

“Sold,” he told the woman, putting his arm around Bella and kissing her head. “Can you resize it?”  

“We can, yes. It’ll be ready tomorrow afternoon as I estimate in only needs to be stretched by a half size. We’d require a down payment, unless you wish to purchase in full right now?”

“Sure, now is fine,” Angel nodded.  

“Wonderful,” she spoke, taking the ring back and placing it into a small pouch, excusing herself and taking it into the back room, conferring with her husband, who Bella heard deliver the delightful statement of ‘Oh, tell ‘em to come back later. I can have this done in a couple of hours.’

“I take it from the bouncing that you heard that?” the woman chuckled, loving the excitement of the young woman before her, her energy infectious.  

“I did! Is four thirty okay?”

“Absolutely fine. Oh, and if it is of interest, we also have a wedding band custom made to fit it, apologies, I should have pulled that out as well!” Going back to the display, she took out the band, which was wishbone shaped to take the shape of the engagement ring, Bella looking to Angel.  

“Yeah, we’ll take that, too. Actually, I might as well get mine from here as well.” His choice was made just as swiftly, deciding on a plain, dark grey titanium band that fortunately fit perfectly.  

“Alright, that’ll be nine two, please, sir.” Bella’s eyes almost fell out of her head, turning rapidly to view Angel.  

“What? I don’t care how much it costs, if those are what you want, then they’re the ones you’re getting.” He considered it a good deal, since he’d been prepared to pay the whole ten grand he had on him solely for Bella’s engagement ring alone. The fact that he managed to get their wedding rings for that too, and have eight hundred left was a bonus.  

“So, you gonna leave buying your dress until you get there?” he asked as they walked down to the next corner, where there was a bar they intended to wait at.  

“Nope! I have something, haven’t worn it yet, and it’ll be perfect!” He didn’t ask for details, wanting to be surprised. Bella could barely wait, her little white lace vintage thrift store find having a very special debut outing, being that it just got promoted to her wedding dress. It was short and tight (two prerequisites Angel seemed to favour in her clothing) and sat off the shoulders, the sleeves flaring at the elbows. That and her ridiculously high leopard print heels, because even though perilous in height, she found them comfortable, and they’d boost her up somewhere close to her very tall fiancé's eyeline. And because of what he coined them, FMH’s. Fuck me heels. Whenever she wore them, his thoughts ran even more impure than usual.

After having something to eat and a few drinks, Bella moved to seat herself across Angel’s lap, sharing kisses, reminded of sitting with him in the exact same way on their first date, over a year and a half ago. God, how everything had changed in that time, Bella pondering it, thinking that although they’d only been back together for just under a month, it felt like they’d never been apart. And now they wouldn’t ever be again, making the ultimate commitment to one another.  

“You happy, baby?”  

She nodded, her nails scratching over where his beard met his throat. “I am, very much so. Kinda horny though, so I could stand to be happier. You need to take me home and let me bounce on your cock for a bit.”

He snorted laughing, grinning. “See this is why I love it when you drink wine, you get all lit and sex feral.” His term had her laughter booming, Bella picking up her glass of chardonnay and taking a sip. This was why she didn’t drink it often; two glasses and she was tipsy and horny. Three and she had to be restrained from undressing him in public.  

Later that afternoon, Bella got her wish, riding Angel into his bed, watching her engagement ring sparkling as she ran her hands in a sumptuous glide over his chest.  

“Oh shit, yes, fuck! Oh god, you’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard!” she panted, his thumb rubbing in a tight circle at her clit, his other hand gently clutching at her neck, Bella turning her head and sucking his fingers, biting down as she closed her eyes tightly, the tingles of her orgasm erupting like a supernova, riding him until his cock jerked and filled her with thick ribbons of cum, collapsing down on top of him.  

He loved how high her libido was, as Angel would be the first to admit he was the same, but if he was honest, she was on course to ruining him completely. That was the third time that day. She had to be satisfied by now.  

“Fuck me, ahhhh, yes, yes!” Nope. She wasn’t. So, with her hair wrapped around his fist, Angel absolutely pounded the hell out of her savagely from behind half an hour later, having her screaming in absolute bliss. He loved it, of course he did, but god, he was exhausted. Five times the day before, and they’d likely five that day, too. They’d meant to have left for the clubhouse over an hour before, finally arriving at just gone eight thirty, Angel whistling for everyone’s attention after they’d gotten furnished with drinks.  

“Hey yo, a little hush. So, we got some news,” he began, turning to look at Bella with a nod.

“We’re engaged!” she cried, flashing her hand, the clubhouse erupting, but no one more so than one woman, who’s squeal all about blew up her boyfriend’s left eardrum.

“God damnit, Amelia!” Gilly exclaimed, his girlfriend flying off his lap to throw her arms around Bella, quickly leaning to kiss Angel’s cheek before they both stood, mutually screaming in a pitch so high, the guys wished it was only dogs that could hear them, Nala joining in after coming from the bathroom and inquiring over the fuss. After being congratulated by his brothers and Bella having her sanity questioned, the girls sequestered themselves around one of the fire pits outside, Angel sitting down on one of the couches outside the clubhouse, wincing.  

“You okay there, mano?” Gilly asked, his entertainment gaining momentum when Angel took the glass full of ice he’d brought out along with his beer, and promptly rested it against his crotch. “So, you found the one pitfall of being with a woman twenty years younger than you?”  

“Don’t laugh at me, man,” he began, Gilly hissing as he shook. “She’s even worse this time around. Five times yesterday, four today. I love it, I thrive on that shit, but I’m fucking tired, and my dick hurts!”

He absolutely erupted at that, Angel looking pained, turning to softly butt his head off Gilly’s thick shoulder a few times. “Body is willing but the flesh is weak, huh? Never thought I’d hear you of all people complain about too much sex.”

“What’s it gonna be like when we’re actually married? I mean, I can do twice, three times alright, and that’s because at the moment I only see her three times a week. But soon, it’ll be every day. Five fucking times a day, every day? Fuck. She gon’ kill me.”  

“Yeah, but you got work, and when semester begins again, she’ll have college,” Gilly reasoned, Angel widening his eyes.  

“She’ll find a way, trust me!”  

“You need to tire her out, bro,” Gilly asserted, finishing his beer and picking up the fresh one he’d also brought out with him.  

Angel looked incredulous. “How? She’s like a fucking sexy Tasmanian devil. She got more energy than... than... something with a fucking god damned lot of energy!” Gilly couldn’t stop laughing, mostly at Angel’s facial expressions and wild gesticulating.  

“I dunno, man. Put a dildo on the end of a pneumatic drill and let that take over while you recover?”

Angel snorted, looking thoughtful. “It’ll cost me too much in electricity.” They both cracked up, Gilly shaking his head.  

“The fucking irony. You find the one and she’s even more sex crazy than you. That’s hysterical. Only you, dude. Only you could bag yourself a hot, eighteen-year-old mamacita and not be able to keep up with her.” In the interim of them being parted, Angel had eventually confessed the reason why to his brothers in the club. All had had taken the news with the kind of grace Angel hadn’t expected... except for Coco, who’d eventually earned a black eye for his continued jailbait jokes.  

“I can keep up just fine!” Angel spluttered, wincing a little, shifting the glass of ice between his legs again. “It’ll just kill me doing it is all.”

Once all talk about insatiable women was done, plans were made for the pending nuptials. The girls weren’t a problem, Nala being between jobs and Amelia working for herself, running an online store selling leather craft items she made herself, and guys got the go ahead from Bishop to leave whenever. He wasn’t going, Taza, Riz and Hank also staying behind to keep Romero Brothers running.  

“I appreciate it, you know. You staying back so more of the guys can come with us,” Angel spoke later that night, grasping Bishop’s shoulder. The president gave him the kind of uncomfortable smile that alluded to more beneath the surface.  

“Angel, I love you, mano, I do, but that ain’t the reason why I’m staying behind,” he began, Angel frowning as he took a seat beside him at the bar. “I don’t think what you’re doing is a good idea.”  

Angel’s frown deepened, looking baffled. “Why?”

“Because it’s a rash decision. You’ve been back with her for what, a month? Also, there’s your history with her, and I’m sorry, she’s a great girl in most other respects, but I don’t trust her,” he lamented, sipping his drink.  

He held onto his desire to feel rattled by his words and show such verbally, but still, his nostrils flared with displeasure. “With respect, Bish, you ain’t the one who needs to trust her, I am. And I do. She’s learned from her mistake; I know she has.”

Bishop sighed, scratching his stubbly jaw. “Are you giving it enough time to really see that she has? I don’t think you are. I just don’t wanna see you make a big mistake, Angel.”  

“Well, if you ain’t coming then it looks like you’re not gonna be, doesn’t it?” His words were sharp, and Bishop expected him not to be pleased by such a reaction. “Not that it is a mistake, and you’ll see that. Believe me, prez. You’ll eat your words.”  

He got up, shaking his head and muttering, leaving Bishop to honestly hope he was proven wrong. Heading back to his fiancé, they sat among the group who were going with them, making plans to leave early on Thursday morning in order to spend a long weekend there. A hotel was decided on, rooms were booked, and that was everything sorted, the group agreeing to meet at Bella’s place at 9am in two days' time.  

Throughout the night, Bella noticed that Angel’s enthusiasm waned slightly, something that she brought up once they’d arrived back at his just before 1am.  

“Tell me what’s wrong.”  

Turning to his side, he smiled thinly, Bella feeling a little wave of nervousness go through her. Was he having second thoughts?  

“Bish told me something tonight, something I didn’t take particularly well,” he began, taking her hand, kissing her fingers before continuing. “He said he thought I was making a mistake in marrying you, said he didn’t trust you after last time.”  

Her face dropped a little, Angel hating having to reveal that to her. She always like Bishop, and he didn’t want things to be awkward between them. In the interests of honesty, though, he had to tell her. “But I told him it isn’t him that has to trust you, it’s me, and I do, so it’s his problem, not ours.”  

Kicking off her shoes, she curled her legs up beneath herself, wrapping Angel’s arm around her as she rested her head against his chest. “I think people reacting negatively to what we’re doing, whether my past transgressions are factored in or not is something we have to expect, baby. This is why I’m not telling mum until we’re actually married. She’s going to go absolutely insane; I know she will.”

Angel quietly agreed, thinking that their actions likely would undo a lot of the good work he’d put in with building a relationship with Deb. Even though that part of him that was more emotionally mature than Bella probably should have prevailed in his decision making, knowing he should have been as he was, the grown adult, the crazily in love, ‘I want her to be my wife as soon as possible’ side of him won. It always would with her.  

“When all is said and done, B, this is you and me. Other people will likely disapprove, but it isn’t their life, it’s ours. Now, you coming to bed?”

“Mmmm...” she licked the side of his neck, jumping off the couch, stripping on the way to the bedroom. “Hurry up. I need to be under you for a while before we go to sleep.”

Angel groaned softly, leaning forward, butting his head off his knees before standing. “Yup, she definitely gon’ kill me. Pretty sweet way to go, though.”

“What was that?” she called.  

He chuckled, removing his kutte, grinning to himself. “Nothing, baby girl.”

[notasapleasure]

a meme!

Thanks for tagging me, @grimm-lynn :)

1. Are you named after anyone?

I think the intention was to name me after my dad's mum (who died when he was very little), but to spell it in a more modern way. Inadvertantly, it's also a portmanteau of my parents' first names.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I was very sick and very tired and very frustrated when the removal guys broke it to me midway through emptying the house that they absolutely couldn't take any of my garden plants over the Irish Sea because of fucking BREXIT. I was also very angry with my husband, who was meant to have checked this. In the end, we managed to palm the plants off on friends and family and we'll try to bring them over later, once we've looked at the paperwork involved.

3. Do you have kids?

No!! I have known for a very long time that I never wanted them and do not have even an iota of maternal interest let along instinct.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

It has its uses.

5. What sports do you play/have you played?

My weekend hobbies as a kid were horse-riding and karate, and I played field hockey at school, did long jump and 200m sprint. But then, y’know. Everyone else got taller and I didn’t really. I dabbled in rowing at uni, because it was kind of expected that you'd try it, but my late-night carousing rather interfered with the early mornings. Also, as mentioned, I am short. Since then I haven't really done anything regularly except about a year where I got into weights. I'd like to get back into picking up heavy things and putting them down again, but I resent the cost of gyms and I need to have a structured class where someone tells me what to do, I don't have the willpower or imagination for solo training.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people?

Hm, it's tough to describe (my mum would say 'their energy') but like...whether they're engaging with me, like really with me and curious about what we're talking about, or if there's that feeling that you're on the clock to prove you're interesting or whatever before they get bored.

7. What’s your eye colour?

Blue

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Weird things to compare?? But uh. Happy endings probably? Not in my scary movies though. I like scary movies with bittersweet endings. Though the more I think about this choice the more confused I get.

9. Any special talents?

I'm so bad at answering these things, my mind just goes blank and I'm like 'oh pffff I don't do anything special, there's always going to be someone who's better than I am'. Assigned Jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none. There are lots of things I like to do and I try to do them well. I guess I will say that you probably want me around in a stressful situation - I'm calm and I love coming up with solutions to things.

10. Where were you born?

In a county hospital in a large and rural county of England.

11. What are your hobbies?

Ok, well. Writing, obvs. Fic and poetry now and again. There's an original idea that's been rattling round my head for a few years that I keep saying *this* NaNoWriMo I'll do it! And then don't. Art used to be much higher up the list but I'm so rusty. I haven't painted in years (...has it been over a decade?). Gardening (I miss my garden so much SO MUCH rn). Baking and cooking. I go through phases of manic knitting interspersed with a little crochet, but I want to improve my sewing - I have my granny-in-law's sewing machine I need to learn how to use. If we get this amazing house we’re looking at I’m going to have to get good at DIY, too.

12. Do you have any pets?

Two greyhounds and six (yes. six.) ferrets.

13. How tall are you?

5'1"

14. Favorite subject in school?

Art and English lit.

15. Dream job?

Not to be all 'I don't dream of labour' but I for sure don't dream of working for other people/companies. As you can see from the hobbies section, I like to DO stuff and be busy, but I like to work on my own terms and I like project work. So my freelance editing and proofing stuff suits me fairly well right now, though I dream more of a UBI that would let me do more with my time that wasn't just about earning, but could encompass more volunteering and community stuff. Being on furlough during lockdown suited me so well - I did so much and recovered so much energy that I was much more willing to engage with strangers as well as friends through video chat etc.

Tag fifteen mutuals - FIFTEEN?! huh ok, I’m tagging y’all but no obligation, right? And Idk who’s already been tagged, sorry if you’ve done this already and I didn’t see! @stripedroseandsketchpads @notfromcold @erinaceina @bellaroles @batri-jopa @donnaimmaculata @notabuddhist @kheldara @blxcksqvadron @boogerwookiesugarcookie @elwenyere @thatonelemontreeiforgorabout @jimtheviking @weirdsociology @rapidashmascot

[thessalian]

Thess vs Resentment

Bed soon, but first, quick commentary.

I think I mentioned that I had to be commuting into work on Tuesday and Wednesday, because Scruffman was on annual leave. I said I’d email him to check in today. I technically didn’t have to because he’d sent me like three separate emails asking for reports that he’d apparently been sitting on since my annual leave last week, so like fuck does he ever ask anyone else to do those (he insisted that he asked others to send out reports when I was unavailable but one of those emails was dated 6th February so fuck that). But I did anyway, in a separate email, after I was done sending the reports and shouting “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?” at the walls. The nice thing was that his reply was thanking me for making the effort to come in and underlining our “You only have to come in if we really need a warm body in the office” agreement. Which is nice because I don’t like the commuting. It hurts. And I swear to whatever fucking god you like that if I have to do it two days in a row? I’m going to quietly murder someone.

Anyway, today wasn’t a great day because Temp was on her bullshit again. I mean, seriously on her bullshit. Once I’d finally sent like twenty reports to people, I looked at the typing queue and what do you know? A whole bunch of long-ass bits of typing from the most annoying people to type for, and a list of timestamps making it very obvious that Temp picked and chose the shorter things to type while leaving me with the long complicated bullshit. But of course I took them because they were basically right there, all at the head of the queue, and just loaded up my personal queue with those and a whole bunch of other mid-length or short ones that followed the long bullshit chronologically. And when I finally finished up with that and went to pick some more stuff out of the queue? Same thing - four bits of typing in the 6-7 minute range, a couple of 3 minute ones, and a 14 minute long monstrosity from the really aggravating guy I’d already typed two long and bullshitty documents for that day. (He’s a nice guy, don’t get me wrong. Just he has this thing about jumping around in the dictation doing the short dictations first which is fine for him but ends up with me having to switch spots on the document and it throws off my rhythm, plus he makes things longer than they need to be just in general.) So I took the first six and left the 14 minute monstrosity behind - I was doing enough long ones and I was not eating the rest of the afternoon with that just because Temp couldn’t be bothered. Thankfully it was gone by the time I went back to pick up more typing, so that was a bonus. Thing is, when I went to pick up a last couple of bits of typing about fifteen minutes before close of play? She’d done it again. Thankfully no more 14 minute monstrosities, but by this point, given that she’d been doing it all damn day? I was done. I took one longish one and the outstanding urgent reports and left her with the rest of it, citing “I don’t have time for your bullshit right now”. I mean, come on. I’m still in significant pain from the whole deal of having to commute to work two days in a row when my buses have been crammed with uni students and tourists (yeah, both of them; I have no idea). I do my share of the long shit, but I resent the fuck out of having to do hers as well.

I just resent the fuck out of this. She takes advantage of the fact that I will do exactly what I was asked to do - take things in chronological order unless there’s a really good reason, like “This is an urgent bit of typing”, or “It’s not marked as urgent but I’m being told they want it right the fuck now”, or even “I’m leaving in fifteen minutes and the longer ones always take longer than the actual time stamp says”. She’s been talked to about this at least twice; all I ever get is “Don’t stress about it”. Easy for her to say; it’s to her benefit if I don’t. And Scruffman doesn’t have time to keep track of that. It’s a nightmare and I’m fed up. I should not be in a war of attrition with my co-worker because she’s a lazy mare. She should just stop being a lazy mare! But that isn’t going to happen so I don’t even at this point.

Anyway, I was basically productive today, but when carrying an armload of laundry across the house to stick it in the washing machine hurts, you know it’s a bad day. But laundry’s done and folded and put away. I put the new sheets and duvet cover I got for my birthday on the bed, which is great because now I can wait a day or so before I next do laundry. I should probably do a load that includes my towels tomorrow, so that can be that. Of course, I do have to survive tomorrow, which means praying that Temp doesn’t pull her bullshit again. But the good thing about working from home is that I can actually do stuff like keep a metaphorical eye on the laundry, and switch the washer to dryer mode when it’s done washing, so I’ll have clean towels for bath without having to wait on said bath. ...It’s the little things.

Also I put an actually recipe post on the Cooking With Spoons blog, and tomorrow I’m thinking, if I have a spoon available, I might put the recipe for my tuna broccoli lemon pasta. It’s a good one for when the spoons are just lacking. And they seriously are - the only reason I’m not in bed is a need to vent and the whole thing where I had a two hour nap earlier in the evening so that should bring me to a “good night’s sleep” equilibrium.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

So, I went back tonight to the club that I hear they call the Jongleurs of Canada (well I’ve heard one person call it that, and it was John Hastings, but he is uniquely positioned to know, there aren’t a lot of people who’ve experienced both as much as he has), because John Hastings was doing a second weekend in a row, and I enjoyed him so much last weekend.

I have already admitted that he absolutely killed me with crowd work last week; I went in ready to judge anything that felt too “optimized for social media”, because I know I like his actual material but I also know he seems to be pivoting to more of the other stuff (I get that impression from his 2023 ComCom interview in which he admitted he’s hired a guy to manage his social media algorithm feeding, and his recent YouTube special that was club sets and crowd work from several different venues cut together, though to be fair it was funny). I went in last weekend, heard him do a whole set that was mainly crowd work with a few jokes thrown in every once in a while, I laughed so much, came out saying I should be less judgemental about shit like that because it was fucking great. It helps that he’s very good at it, though. Several other comedians were on before him, they also did a lot of crowd work and mainly simple jokes that didn’t tie together, and… well, it’s not always good.

I did get the impression, last week, that he’d planned to do a bit more material than he actually got in. I got that impression because he said a couple of times that he had jokes but kept getting distracted by the crowd, but it’s hard to tell how true that is. Normally I’d automatically assume it wasn’t true and was just something he was saying to engage the crowd (“You guys are so cool that I can’t even do my jokes, I just want to talk to you!”), but in this case, that crowd was fucking weird. There was so much going on in it. He did keep seeming like he was about to jump into something, and then he’d encounter another audience member who had some engaging story, and he’d have to pursue that. So I thought, maybe he really does have more material than this, and I didn’t get to hear it because he was too busy grilling the guy who got engaged to high school girlfriend after a car crash (it was much funnier at the time than it sounds now). I went back tonight to see his second weekend, in the hopes that I could hear some of the jokes he curtailed last week.

I went looking for that tonight, and he really delivered. I was right – last week’s crowd was at least a bit of an anomaly. This week seemed like more of a normal audience – he talked to a few people in it, managed to find a joke to make about a few of them because any comedian can do that with anyone, but there wasn’t anything special. This meant that this time, he was able to move on from talking to the crowd and tell us what he’d written.

The set was still very heavy on crowd work compared to a regular comedy set, and he still made me laugh repeatedly with the crowd work, even though there wasn’t anything really special about the crowd this week, so credit where it’s due, he is clearly very good at that stuff. But it was lighter on the crowd work than last week, which means he was able to get a little bit further into prepared material, and it was so good! He had so much good stuff! A few things I’d heard before, but a bunch of other things I’d never heard before, even though I’ve now heard all his Bandcamp albums and seen his recent YouTube special.

Fresh material, and it wasn’t all small, self-contained things! There were segues! There was one bit where he told a funny story about his friends, that built into a list that he related to himself, and then he told several stories from there that all related back to the list! Structure! That is structure! Structure, in the Jongleurs of Canada! Callbacks embedded slightly further than skin deep! And so much potential for how it could go further, I could see aspects of the list where he must have stories that he didn’t hit.

I didn’t even realize how often I listen to stand-up WIPs while drafting in my head the way I think they should structure the full show – I didn’t realize how much I do that until tonight, when I found myself automatically doing it repeatedly. There were all these threads, and he connected some of them in ways that downright delighted me because a connected thread is a rarity in the Jongleurs of Canada, but there were other threads that he just left and I kept thinking, I can see where he could pick that up and tie it back in. The finished show could have that thread all the way through it. He has all the pieces here of something that could be so great.

And then I remembered he’s not doing that. He’s not trying to build an Edinburgh hour, at least as far as I know. As far as I know, he’s trying to build another special like the one he put on YouTube a couple of weeks ago, where he cuts together crowd work and individual jokes from different club sets in different venues, with no real theme or structure. I might be wrong, I don’t know what John Hastings is doing with his life. But signs point to him doing that again. And that’s fine! It was good! I enjoyed his YouTube special (although it annoys me that he called it “The Times They Are a-John Hastings”, when “The Times They Are John Hastings” scans so much better and matches the original song title – it’s just occurred to me now that maybe that was meant to be the joke, and I missed it), it was fun. But it could be more.

And I know he knows how to do more! He has two Edinburgh hours on his Bandcamp page – titled “Adventure” (2014), and “Bootleg from 2017 Edinburgh Show” (2017, obviously) on this page – and I liked them both a lot. I enjoyed everything on that Bandcamp page, but those two shows are the best ones by far, I think. The ones where he did a whole hour that makes sense instead of cutting stuff together. I know he knows how to do it, he’s done it at least twice (I’m pretty sure more times, they’re just not on Bandcamp). And he could, but he’s not, because of Tik-Tok, and that annoys me.

I realize there’s an argument that it’s messed up if I sat through a really enjoyable club comedy night, tonight, and didn’t enjoy it properly because I kept thinking “Why isn’t this an Edinburgh hour?” But I honestly didn’t do that. I had a great time. I laughed a lot, I promise (at the headliner – not so much at the other acts). It was just a tiny thing in the back of my mind that kept sort of automatically sorting his ideas into an order that makes sense, I kept catching myself guessing how he’ll present this within the finished show, kept thinking if it’s this good in little pieces I can’t wait to see the recording of his finished show, and then I had to remind myself that it won’t work that way. It’s habit more than anything else at this point; I’ve heard too many Edinburgh hour WIPs where that is a logical way of looking at them, I’ve got used to seeing every show that way.

Honestly though, it was so much fun. John Hastings has good jokes and funny stories, even if he isn’t going to wrap them all around one theme and perform them for an hour every night for a month in a hill-ridden Scottish city’s darkened room. I had a great time, both last week and this week. I should possibly learn to get out of my head a bit when it comes to comedy and just let it be what it is. That might be the lesson from these last couple of weekends. Let comedy be what it is. It's fine.

[sjsmith56]

From There to Here - Part 16, Options

Summary: Bucky breaks into several HYDRA safe houses, taking cash and weapons. At one, he realizes he’s on security camera and quickly finds the safe, which also contains passports, many of them for him. Taking refuge in a motel the desk clerk agrees to help him book passage on a cargo ship to Europe. A veteran himself with issues, he helps Bucky acquire clothing, receiving the list of remaining American safe houses for his assistance.

Length: 5K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Grant Allman (original male character)

Warnings: HYDRA surveillance, trust issues, need to blend in.

Author’s notes: Despite Bucky’s confidence growing he realizes that at times he has to trust strangers to help him. This time he found help with a former veteran with issues who originally helps Bucky for the money but finds himself helping because it’s right. Grant will be in another one shot later in this collection, and referred to several times.

<<Part 15

💵💶

The farmhouse looked abandoned.  The grass around it was long and unkempt, and although there were several vehicles parked around it none of them looked like they had been used in a long time as they all had layers of undisturbed dirt on them.  A large NO TRESPASSING sign at the entrance to the property had already indicated that this wasn't a welcoming place.  As I drove past it slowly, I tried to see if there were any signs of anyone actually living there.  About a mile down the road, I found a place to park the car that hid it from anyone else casually driving by.  Opening the trunk, I unzipped the large satchel that held weapons, searching for a leg holster as I intended to make sure I was armed before I entered the house.  I also attached a sheath for a knife, knowing that being prepared for surprises would improve my chances of finding what I needed at this safe house.  Then I put the backpack on, as it had some food, the flashlight, a journal, and some lock picking tools that I found at another safe house.  If it was truly safe, I planned to spend the night.

Carefully, I entered the property and made my way back to the house, keeping out of sight by following the row of trees that had been planted in a line.  I wondered why they were planted like that but it was something I could think about later.  Finally, I got to a place where I could observe the house and determine if there was anyone inside.  The last place I found did have someone who tried to take me into custody with a syringe.  I turned it on them instead and watched as it knocked them out instantly.  There weren't many things that could knock me out.  I knew that because they often complained about me waking up too soon at the Ideal Federal Savings Bank facility.  If they had the titanium restraints then all they would need is a few minutes of me being unconscious for them to immobilize me.  I wasn't ever going to let that happen again.

For some time I watched the farmhouse until I was satisfied it was empty.  Carefully I went up the steps to the door and took the backpack off, opening it to take out the lock picking kit.  Placing the two picks into the lock I tried to use the one to find the sections of the lock to manipulate into place but it kept slipping back and I realized after some time that it might have been designed that way.  A sound from above my head got my attention and I saw a small video camera turning towards me.  Jumping up I tore it out and realized that I had little time now.  Someone knew I was here.

I wrapped my jacket around my metal hand and punched quickly through the window of the safe house.  Reaching through the broken window I unlocked it and slid it up then carefully climbed in, shaking the glass out of my jacket after I did so.  It smelled musty in the empty place, confirming it hadn't been used for a long time.  According to the list that the mercenary in Washington gave me there should be money, weapons and passports in this house.  I just had to find them.

Taking the flashlight out of my backpack I turned it on and began looking for a likely place for a safe.  I found it in the kitchen, of all places.  I noticed scrape marks on the floor in front of the fridge, indicating it had been pulled out and pushed back in multiple times.  Pulling it out this time I saw the panel on the wall and opened it, revealing a safe.  Taking aim I punched the door repeatedly with my metal fist until the dial mechanism fell off.  Reaching inside I was able to manipulate the locking mechanism into opening and found a treasure trove of documents and money.  Without delay I piled them all into the backpack, then I exited through the broken window and ran back to the car.  Quickly I took the holster and sheath off, tossing them into the trunk then I started the car and drove.  After an hour I saw a sign for a motel and pulled in.  Paying cash for a room I parked the car in front of it, took everything out and placed it in the room, then I parked the car down the road, walking back.  I don't really know why I did that; it just seemed like the right thing to do.

Inside the room I emptied the backpack and looked at all the money.  In various sizes, denominations, and countries, they were bundled up in various colours of currency.  Some of it was smaller than the American money I had been handling.  I looked closely at it and noticed it said Euros, making me wonder if it was the currency of Europe and wondering when Europe became a single country.  Others were the same size as American money, but different colours and had a picture of an older woman or man on it with the country listed as Canada.  There was a lot of that currency in that pile.  A large brown envelope had fallen out as well.  Opening it up I emptied it out onto the bed.  Passports, multiple passports, some with my picture in them, some with people I didn't recognize.  The ones with me showed me mostly with long hair and a beard but some showed me without, which puzzled me because I didn't remember ever getting my hair cut by HYDRA although there were broken memories of people shaving me.

Sorting the passports with my picture in them I found an American one, as well as a Canadian one, a German one, three European Union ones, an Italian one and a Greek one.  Surprisingly the European Union ones shared the same names and photographs as the German, Italian and Greek one.  The German one was the closest in appearance to me.  I read the fine print inside of it, surprised to find that I understood it.  When I read it out loud it sounded like German to me, so I obviously had been programmed with it.  Jakob Schmidt was the name, that was easy enough to remember.  A knock on the door startled me and I pulled the bedspread over the pile of money and passports. 

"Yes?" I called out.

"I'm the desk clerk," said the voice.  "Is your car parked down the road?"

I opened the door and the man looked at me.  "Sorry to bother you but I noticed you parked your car down the road.  Thought you might be expecting trouble.  There are a couple of guys checking it out."

He stepped back and pointed to where I had parked the car.  There were a couple of men, big men, peering into it.  I stepped back and motioned to him to step inside the room.

"There are people who want to hurt me, and I just want to live a normal life," I said, trying to choose my words carefully.  "If you were trying to do that, would you go to Canada or to Europe?"

"Well, Canada is closer," he said.  "But Europe probably has more places to hide.  You need a passport for both."

"I have that," I said.  "How would I get to Europe?"

"One of my buddies took a cargo ship there," he said.  "You can book passage on one going out of New York or Boston.  For about a hundred bucks a day you get your food, your room, and access to any of the ship facilities that they have for the crew.  It takes a while to get there, a week to ten days, but it's quiet and no one bothers you.  You have to book it online."

My hopes fell.  "I don't know how to do that.  I've been locked up."

"So, you're on the run?" he asked.  "Do you have any money?"

"I have lots of money," I said.  "You can have what I don't take with me.  It's all yours."

His eyes gleamed for a moment.  "I can book it for you.  How much money are we talking about?"

I wanted to trust him so much.  Going to the large satchel I reached inside and grabbed several bundles of cash, bringing them out to him.

"I have more but I'll give it to you only if you help me," I said.  "You can't tell anyone I was here because the people who are looking for me will kill you just for seeing me.  That is the truth."

"Who are you?" he asked, then he shook his head.  "Never mind.  I don't want to know.  Let's consider this a down payment.  Since they know your car I can sell you mine."

What choice did I have?  I agreed and he left, taking the bundles of cash I gave him.  Watching out the window I saw the two men who had been looking at the car meet up with two others, wondering if I would have to take them on at some point, not wanting to hurt anyone.  They started walking in the other direction and I stepped away from the window.  Looking at the pile of cash on the bed I made a decision.  I took all of the American cash and Canadian cash, putting it into the shopping bag I still had.  I would give all of that to the desk clerk.  I kept the American passport and the German one, as well as the European Union passport that matched the German one.  Those I put into the back pack along with the Euros.  The other passports were put back into the envelope and I stuck them into the backpack, intending to get rid of them later.  The weapons would have to stay here as I knew there was no way I would be able to get on any sort of transport with them.  All of the clothes I bought would go into the smaller satchel, my luggage for the trip.  The telephone in my room rang and I picked it up.

"Hey, this is Grant, the desk clerk," said a voice.  "Those guys have gone the other direction.  Why don't you come to the office and bring your passport?  We can book that ticket for you."

I hung up and took a deep breath.  This was the moment of truth.  Grabbing the American and German passports, and the room key I left the room and walked to the office.  Grant was at a computer, and he was looking at something. 

"There's a cargo ship leaving Boston for Lisbon, then on to Rome in two days with a spot still available," he said.  "I can pay for it by my credit card as I'm guessing you don't have one."  I nodded.  "I need your name and passport number."  I handed the American passport to him, and he looked at the picture then at me.  I could feel his fear increase.  "You're that guy, the one they're looking for.  This picture looks just like him."

"I never wanted to do those things," I said quietly.  "They tortured me and put me through a machine that made me obey.  I was a soldier in the army when I fell but they found me and changed me to turn me into their weapon."

I noticed he had a military tattoo on his forearm and gestured to it.  "Infantry, Afghanistan," he said.  "When were you in?"

"1943," I said.  "107th Infantry out of Brooklyn.  I was a sergeant, sniper."  My voice started to break.  "I don't remember much but Steve Rogers remembered me when they sent me to kill him.  I began to remember while we fought, enough that I knew I didn't want to kill any more."  I looked at him, in the eyes.  "One soldier to another ... I need your help.  If they find me, I'm not going to let them take me alive, and I'll hurt them, bad.  I just need to get to where I can lay low, get my memories back and try not to let them take me again.  I have more American and Canadian money, plus a bag of guns.  It's all yours.  I don't want your car but if you could drive me to Boston I would appreciate it."

"The money and the passports, where did they come from?" he asked.

"Their safe houses," I told him.  "I got a list of them.  You can have the list of American ones and break into them for the money.  You'll have to be careful because there could still be people there and they would kill you.  Those guys out there would kill you without a second thought.  They don't value life; they don't care.  They're evil."

"That's HYDRA, isn't it?" he breathed out dramatically.  "Okay, I'll help you.  I'll book this ticket and I'll drive you to Boston.  Do you have a passport that doesn't have the long hair and beard because that's what's going to tip people off.  You look normal right now."

I pulled out the German one and he looked at it then at me, nodding his approval.  He booked the ticket under Jakob Schmidt, entering the passport information.  Then he printed the ticket off and handed it to me. 

"What's your real name?"

"James Buchanan Barnes but apparently they called me Bucky," I said, offering my hand to shake. 

"Grant Allman," he said.  "Nice to meet you.  You hungry?"  I nodded my head vigourously.  "Alright, I'm off shift soon.  I'll order a couple of pizzas and bring them to your room.  We need to plan.  Don't worry about your car.  I have a friend of a friend who would be happy to take it off your hands.  I'll take care of it."

An hour later Grant came to the door with two large pizzas and a six pack of beer.  I was really hungry, and he watched amused as I wolfed down half of one pizza without a problem.  He told me about his experiences fighting in Afghanistan which just proved that war doesn't really change, just the location and the players.  I told him what I remembered about being in the 107th and the few memories that were starting to emerge about the Howling Commandos.  There were no questions about what I did for HYDRA, which I appreciated, ashamed of what I became for them.  It was all public record now, as one of the Avengers had released their files out to the world.  Grant said many were encrypted but all sorts of people were working on opening them and finding out how much HYDRA had secretly inflicted on everyone.

"They arrested some politicians already," he said.  "They were already scumbags so no one was surprised to hear they were HYDRA supporters."  He shook his head.  "Makes me wonder how many wars we got involved in because of them."  He looked at me.  "I don't blame you.  You're alright.  They make you out to be some kind of killing machine but I've known guys that were over the edge and you're not."

"I still did it," I replied.  "They were the ones whispering in my ear, telling me I was making the world a better place, even though I knew deep down that what I was doing was wrong.  Whenever I questioned them or tried to get away, they put me through a machine that wiped away my memories, took away who I was, then they brought out the Winter Soldier.  He is a killer.  He's who they wanted me to be for them all the time."

"But you still questioned, and you still tried to get away."  He leaned forward.  "There is something good in you, Bucky.  You know how I know?  If you were still the killer, you would have put a gun to my head to force me to help you.  Instead, you asked for my help, and you offered me what you had in compensation.  I'm not going to lie; you gave me $6000 just to keep quiet.  That's a lot of money to a guy like me who's making minimum wage at a dead-end job.  The money doesn't mean anything to you, which means that being free means everything."

"I grew up in the Depression," I said.  "Never had much money.  Quit school and worked on the docks to help the family.  I remember that.  Then the war came and staying alive was more important.  If the money can help you then you're welcome to it, all of the American and Canadian money that I have."  I had a thought.  "Your friend, that's going to take care of my car ... can he take it towards Canada, to lead them away from here?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," said Grant.  "That's a really good idea.  Then we head out to Boston in my truck.  I'll have to give him some money to do it."  He smiled at me.  "But you're good for it, right?"

I went to the weapons satchel and brought out two more bundles of money, tossing it to Grant.  He nodded his head and smiled.  Right then and there he placed a phone call to his friend, telling him what needed to be done.  They agreed that a diversion would be needed to draw the attention of the four men away from the car long enough for someone to start it up and drive it away, leading the four pursuers towards Canada. 

"They're professionals," I said.  "Likely mercenaries but they could be true believers.  If they catch your friend's friend they might hurt him.  I don't want that on my conscience."

Grant relayed that information to his friend and smiled as he heard the response.  "No problem.  He has some dangerous friends as well."

We set the time for our departure to the following morning.  I ate the rest of the pizza and drank the rest of the beer as I was still hungry.  Then I gave him the car keys, Grant wished me a good night and told me to sleep well.  After he left I had the realization that he never brought up my arm.  Opening the weapons bag I found the rest of the money in it and transferred it to the shopping bag.  It was pretty full.  Looking at what I had for clothing I realized I should spend some money on buying more clothes for the trip.  Not having enough would look suspicious and might draw attention to me.  I didn't want that. 

The following morning I woke up early, feeling a sense of anticipation.  A knock on the door and a look out the window showed Grant waiting.  When I opened it up he gave me some news.

"One of the guys asked the clerk on evening shift if anyone new had signed in," he said.  "They showed him a picture of you with the long hair but I already told him these guys were up to no good.  He told them he saw the guy parking the car and walking in the other direction.  He pretended to be kind of dense as well.  So, what do we have to take out?"

I showed him the weapons bag and he opened it, whistling at the firepower in there.  Closing it he picked it up and took it out to his truck, putting it in the back of the vehicle.  Then I showed him my backpack, my small satchel and the shopping bag full of money.

"All the American and Canadian money is in here," I told him.  "I was thinking I should buy some more clothes for the trip so I don't look suspicious.  Do we have time to buy some?"

He nodded.  "Absolutely, I was thinking the same thing," he said.  "You can get a suitcase that's like a backpack, even has wheels.  They're pricey but handy.  We can even find a laundromat to wash them first, get the stiffness out of them."

"I know how to do laundry," I said proudly to his strange look.  "I wasn't allowed to do anything on my own with HYDRA.  But I did do laundry after I escaped.  Just followed the instructions."

Grant laughed.  "Yeah, that's all you have to do," he said.  "We should separate the lights and the darks though.  Especially if you buy jeans so the colour doesn't bleed."  He waved his hands.  "We'll deal with that later."

Looking out the window he gestured to me to come over.  A few minutes later a car pulled up in front of the car I had been driving.  Two men got out of the back seat and opened the car door of my vehicle, getting inside.  Immediately the four men who had been hanging around the day before approached the car with weapons drawn.

"Watch this," said Grant. 

An explosion of another vehicle near them distracted the four armed men, and the two cars took off.  One came past us while the other, the one I had driven, turned around and headed north.  The four armed men headed to their vehicle and took off in pursuit of my old vehicle.  As soon as they were out of sight Grant looked at me again, with a triumphant smile.

"Okay, we have a stop to make, then we'll head towards Boston."

The stop was a storage locker yard.  I had never seen such things.  Grant entered a code on the gate and it opened.  He drove towards a building in the middle, then opened the sliding door with another code.  Picking up the bag of weapons he put it inside another locker with a key lock on it.  Then he took the shopping bag full of money, after taking some cash out for me to buy new clothes, and put it with the weapons.  After locking everything back up we got back into the truck and began the drive to Boston, stopping for breakfast on the way.  Just like when I ate so much of the pizza he was amused at how much I ate for breakfast.  As we ate he used his phone to book a motel near Boston, explaining that it was expensive to stay in town. 

After we finished breakfast he drove to a big store called Walmart and we went through it, buying me several pairs of jeans, T-shirts, some long sleeved shirts that he called Henley's, some sweatpants, underwear, socks, and sneakers.   We also bought shaving gear, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and a large sturdy suitcase with wheels that was also a backpack.  Another stop after that was at the laundromat where I realized I really didn't know how to do laundry as he showed me how to separate everything by colour.  When that was all done we finished the drive to the motel, getting there mid-afternoon.  After we checked in and went to our unit he opened the door to the room and muttered.

"What a dump."

I didn't see anything wrong with it, having lived in some pretty bad conditions when HYDRA had control of me.  It seemed clean enough and was quiet.  He looked at me and grimaced.

"They made it seem nicer than this online," he said.  "Sorry, it's not the best."

"It's fine," I said, sincerely.  "During the war I slept in a slaughterhouse once.  That wasn't exactly The Pierre Hotel."

Grant laughed and patted me on the back.  "You're alright, Bucky," he said.  "I saw a burger place nearby.  Think you could eat half a dozen burgers?"

It was my turn to laugh and I enjoyed how good it felt.  The only laughter I ever heard while I was with HYDRA was always tinged with derangement and evil.  Since then the only times I had laughed had been around ordinary people, like the hippies in Eden, Megan in Townsend and now Grant in Boston.  For all of their insistence that their way was superior the people in HYDRA really didn't seem to have much fun.

The burgers were quite big, so I only ordered three, and a large order of fries, a milkshake, and a slice of apple pie with some coffee.  As I finished off the pie Grant leaned towards me.

"Is this normal eating for super soldiers?" he asked.  "That's what you are, right?  You didn't eat like this before."

"I didn't eat like this with them, either," I said.  "They barely fed me.  They used food to control me.  It was a reward, given sparingly.  Most of the time they fed me slop.  There was one handler ...." I stopped, as I struggled to put into words what he had done to me.  "I could only eat with permission, but he would put it in front of me, not letting me have it.  As soon as he gave me permission, I would wolf it down before he took it away from me, sometimes so fast that I brought it right back up again.  I completed a mission with him and almost died because I began throwing up blood and couldn't stop.  He was removed as my handler after that."

Shock and disgust were on Grant's face as I told him this.  It was strange how I remembered that handler, Higgins.  I could still see his face.  He called me "It."  I wasn't a person to him.  I was a tool to be wielded.  We walked back to the motel and each of us sat on the bed.  Grant turned the television set on and found a Boston Red Sox game, versus the Yankees.  I smirked, as neither team had been ones I cheered for when I was still in Brooklyn.  After the game was over he turned the TV channel to the movies, stopping briefly at what looked like movies about sex.  Glancing at me he shook his head.

"No, I don't know you well enough to watch porn with you," he said.  "You might think I was a pervert or something."

"I haven't had sex, that I can remember, since 1943," I replied.  "I'd be embarrassed to see what passes for sex now.  What else is there?"

Chuckling, Grant found a science fiction one, called Interstellar.  Although parts of it were hard to understand, as it talked about time, dimensions and such, visually it was incredible as it showed what a black hole could look like.  I vaguely remembered reading about them before the war when Einstein talked about them.  Then the different planets that the people in the movie went to, and the space station that was orbiting around Saturn, just amazed me.  It all looked so real, but Grant assured me it was all done on computers; CGI, he called it.  After it was over, we called it a night and both of us fell asleep pretty quickly. 

The following morning, after showering, which I thoroughly enjoyed, we went for breakfast then Grant drove the final stretch to the port.  He put the dock where the ship was located into his phone and it brought up a route, that told him which way to go, using a woman's voice.  It was incredible that they had this talking map on his phone and I told him.  He just shrugged, as it was commonplace to him.  As we entered the port he had to tell the guard he was dropping his friend off for the cargo ship Marietta.  He wasn't allowed to go the whole way to it but was directed to a drop off area.  At the drop off he put the truck into park and came around to the passenger side as I pulled the bigger suitcase and the backpack out.  I realized I had forgotten to give him one more thing and I opened the front pouch of the smaller backpack.  Pulling out two sheets of paper I handed them to him.

"The location of HYDRA safe houses in the United States," I said.  "Remember to be careful, check to see if anyone is there first.  Some may have security cameras so disable or destroy them.  I used my metal fist to break into the safes.  You might have to take more desperate methods.  Take it all.  They don't deserve to have any of it."

Grant took them, briefly looking over the list of locations and shaking his head at how many there were. 

"This could make me a very rich man," he said.  "I promise I'll do some good with the money.  You keep your head down and stay as anonymous as you can.  I hope that someday we meet again."

He stuck his hand out and I shook it.  Then I started wheeling the big suitcase towards the security check-in.

"Hey Jakob," he yelled, and I turned around, as we had talked about me getting used to my new name.  "Viel Glück!"

"Danke," I replied and waved.

Giving my ticket and German passport to the security guard I was waved in then I lined up at the gangway, along with the others who had booked passage.  They checked me in, accepting my explanation for my metal arm, and I turned to wave once more.  Grant raised his hand, and I entered the ship.  A crewman showed us to the elevator and told us what deck the cabins were on.  It was very basic, but it was mine for the next 10 days.  A bed, dresser, desk, nightstand, and private bathroom with a shower.  On the desk was a map showing where the cafeteria was, a library, a running track, workout room, and medical facilities.  There was a square window that looked out over many containers that the ship was taking to Europe.  I was travelling, by myself, and although I wouldn't let my guard down, I couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect of being responsible for myself.  It felt ... normal.

Viel Glück, Good luck in German, Google Translate

Danke, Thanks in German

Part 17>>

Series Masterlist

Please like, comment and/or reblog if you liked this Bucky one shot.

[crystalmaiden77real]

Which Writer made Dr. Starline most competent? Part 4

As for the last competent moments Flynn gave him,

10: He uses the Cores to make the glove able to make him go fast, jump high and be super strong. So he could kidnap Belle for example. Believable enough, he’s an inventor in Sonic and these Cores justify how he made it. It got him Tails’ fur sample for later, and and he needed it to even survive Eggman going to him in a mecha as he’d have been too slow to run away from it otherwise.

At first glance he seems overpowered but half of these backfired on him in some way and a lot of them still have his incompetence anyways.

Examples of Evan Stanley making him competent: While there are few examples keep in mind that she barely got to write him at all while Flynn wrote the vast majority of his stories and introduced him. Based on her track record in the below list if she got to write him the same amount of stories as Flynn did, the list may have been higher than his.

1: Issue 33 has him beat Shadow in a fight, smacking him with a log and sending him falling off the roof until he sees him again. Shadow’s too dumb to just Chaos Control to freeze time and instantly catch up to him with teleportation. If Shadow wasn’t made incompetent to make him look competent, he’d have killed him here, which obviously would change a lot about the rest of the comic. Hopefully this is why some fans said Starline was made overpowered, because while anything can be invented in Sonic, so his Tricore isn’t a stretch, even Shadow being powerless against him is a big stretch. Shadow teleported without an Emerald in Issue 6 so clearly he could’ve done it here.

2: In Issue 36, Shadow again doesn’t Chaos Control to Starline, so Starline just gets to look impressive effortlessly getting Tails and Rouge tied to a rollercoaster by hypnotizing Rouge into getting Tails here.

3: He was nothing but impressive with the Tricore and hypnosis. He ended up holding his own against Amy and Rouge and Tails all at once thanks to the Tricore. Eggman never made this thing, so of course he one-upped up the second Flynn had him invent it. Of course this is Flynn’s not hers because the Tricore and hypno glove showed up in his stories first, but still it took until Stanley got a hold of him for him to have a writer who would let him be nothing but competent for a few issues. Even though Flynn gave him the Tricore in the first place in Bad Guys, even in that arc Starline couldn’t go without a ton of stupidity. 12 moments of incompetence there, in just 4 issues.

Meanwhile Starline has just 2 moron moments under Evan with 3 issues, all constrained to 1 issue. With how much bigger 12 is than 2, anyone could see that Evan made him less incompetent. He had to be written by her to get competent again after Eggman hired him. I bet Starline barely went a story under Flynn without getting incompetent once and yet Stanley managed that for two issues in a row. So while Flynn writing way more stories for him could be said as why he’s got the most Idiot Balls in those, by comparing just a few of his stories and hers we’ve got a comparison here to see their frequency of idiot ball rate.

The SECOND Flynn comes back to write Starline he makes him incompetent and with Imposter Syndrome adding to the amount of stories he writes him in, things snowball from there. And most of his incompetence isn’t even necessary for stories later in the comic to happen, so it could’ve easily not been written if the excuse was that it was there for more stories. Remember, Starline had 19 Idiot Balls under Flynn until this point.

20: Issue 42 by Ian Flynn: Why doesn’t Starline just brainwash Belle into going with him? Why is he wasting time? Assuming that he wouldn’t get snuck up on and hit while he’s talking to her is OOC of someone paranoid enough to assume the bad guys' devices would misfire if they were booby-trapped or that Eggman couldn't fix the Metal Virus in post or that Eggman's plan that saved the world from the Metal Virus would've destroyed it even though Super Sonic was gonna be involved, which always means Sonic will save the day.

21: Imposter Syndrome Issue 1: Starline continues having a diary even though the entire last arc he was in went wrong because his goons read his diary. Guess what, Surge wants to read it later! An entire scene two issues from now could’ve been avoided. Since they go along with his plan and missions for them anyways, it wasn’t even necessary for him to make this mistake because it made no difference beyond making him look incompetent. Starline still keeps diaries in the same hackable place with no logical reason, considering that he could hide his video diary properly, put it on a flash drive in a bush, and then it'd still be accessible to him anyways, so it's not like him naturally not wanting to delete his video explains it being where it is, and that method of hiding would be effortless, so him being too lazy to do it doesn't explain it.

22: I thought Starline was planning on literally replacing the heroes, with robot doppelgangers. That's not his plan. Wasn’t that OBVIOUS immediately? It’d be so easy to ruin their reputations that way. He could easily wait until Mimic was captured again if he thinks he has to, or maybe capture and defeat him himself sending badniks after him with the Mimic DNA he might have left where he last worked with him, and then he could replace the heroes with robot infiltrators. Instead he’s gonna HOPE that some brand new people are gonna be considered better than already well-established beloved celebrities and replace them entirely. That’s never gonna happen! Why is a genius so delusional?! I don’t get why he wants that anyways.

23: At first Surge wanted an assassination, but Starline said no because he’s an idiot, at being a villain anyways. You’d think it’d be child’s play to send a character who can spindash into Sonic’s house when he’s asleep at night and spindash him to death at midnight, or at least send lethal nanobots over to him. Couldn't he have just gotten Surge to break a house in it to get in effortlessly? This incompetence actually was necessary because if he agreed to Surge’s plan, he’d have beaten Sonic and altered the comic after this point, as logically all she’d have to do is electrocute him in one touch when he’s sleeping. And if somehow one night where she fought Sonic couldn’t defeat him, he could keep sending her after him over and over and I’m sure he could make a Sonic tracker/spy to find out where he was if he slept somewhere else.

24: A whole scene happens near Tails’ house because Starline wants to know what Tails would somehow be able to know about Surge and Kit based on Belle and destroy any research he has on her - already flimsy logic for breaking into his workshop as they're nothing like Belle and he used the hypno glove to alter their motivations in life, while amnesia was the only alteration not caused by hypnosis. And amnesia isn't anything requiring his knowledge of Belle, who’s not someone with a tenrec/fennec brain to study, so he has nothing to gain from doing this either. He'd know Tails wouldn't ever make a connection between a good wooden robot and organic cyborgs who were hypnotized. But fine, Tails' enemy wouldn't need a logical excuse to get rid of his research, he'd just want to do it to do it. I’ll be generous then and not count this as an Idiot Ball on its own, as it’s technically smart to be paranoid, not stupid, because it means you’re overly prepared.

But he’s making the inane mistake of trying to break in DURING THE DAY! Sure he’d want to get proper rest along with Surge and Kit, but how is that worth the risk of doing this in broad daylight where Tails could see them early instead of waiting until midnight for just a minute long mission? He could just brainwash Surge to make her not complain longer than a second about it.

25: You’d think it’d be immediately obvious that Starline should program Surge to be unable to ask why they have their motivations or at least never feel like she should. It's not explained why part of his long-term hypnotizing statement wasn't, " You want to destroy Sonic for not destroying Eggman, " which would avoid this. She’d know “ why “ she hates Sonic, either she would’ve always assumed that because Starline “ made her “ she was programmed to hate him because he must have programmed her personality, and why would she be mad at him for that, or she’d have thought she hated him because of an excuse Starline would’ve given Kit to explain it away that Sonic keeps his enemies alive and well causing the “ Sonic Cycle. “ So she’d be thinking she already knows why she hates Sonic. This incompetence wasn’t necessary as it doesn’t lead to her killing him and she ends up going with his plan anyways, she didn’t need to ask why she hated Sonic for any later stories to happen.

26: Starline says that she wanted to complete one more optimization test and he wanted to push ahead into the main mission. Why would he expect her to believe that their roles would be reversed? He’s lucky she does. She wouldn’t buy this because he’s saying that his plan was what her plan was all along. She knows she's too stubborn to change her mind. And yet she buys it, so that’s just barely only a stupid moment for her. He could’ve just brainwashed her into believing him, so this wasn’t mandatory.

27: Imposter Syndrome Issue 2: Kit stammers and is told to be quiet and let Starline do his work, as she has her hand on his shoulder, and they go into an elevator, I guess, and he doesn’t see any hidden mics or cameras. Again, even the characters expect Starline to be smarter than he is. Not that this matters too much.

28: Imposter Syndrome 3: The whole reason the story happens is because, again, Starline let Surge and Kit keep their free will instead of having a part of the cybernetic giving them amnesia be that they have free will up to the point where they’d try to betray him. Maybe he could've gone with his " give them fake memories " idea to have them think from a fake memory that they couldn't get away with trying to find out how they were made. If he hurried up and gave them a fake backstory they would think they already knew how they came to be and be fine with it because that's how the backstory would be and not come here. Nothing about the comic afterwards would’ve been different if he hadn’t made this mistake because they go with his plan after this anyways.

29: Why does Starline let Surge talk after he sees her, instead of hypnotizing her instantly, when he knows what she'll say? If he had tried to do that instead of saying it's past their bed time when he'd know that's a boring waste of time, maybe she actually would've passed out if he instantly hypnotized her with no warning. Instead he might have telegraphed that he was going to hypnotize her and caused her to look away and sic Kit on her, by saying, " ends the same way. " This uncharacteristic recklessness on his part must be the whole reason this scene goes wrong for him because I can imagine him NOT making this mistake was why it always ended the same way before this! But he just had to stand there and comment that they keep having the same conversation. And again this incompetence wasn’t even necessary because they keep him alive and go with his plan anyways.

As you can see it only looks like Flynn was the one making him overpowered because he introduced Starline and got him to be competent a lot at first but then his competence took a nosedive making him paranoid and unable to think things through, repeatedly making mistakes because of it, so he didn't recover and be as cool as his introduction until Stanley wrote him, and barely made a fool out of him. So she gave him a convoluted plan, at least it still looked cool.

[dreamcatcherrs]

what catches their eyes/attracts them?; mcyt x reader

+ this is in no way factual information, only my very weird and specific opinions :)

dream:

free-spirited people

someone who isn't afraid to speak their mind

confidence, to a certain extent

someone he can be loud with

someone who will wake up in the middle of the night with him to go on a car drive to nowhere

the colour blue (dnf👀)

clean and fresh-looking clothes

satin fabric

big height difference

the smell of citrus fruits

large smiles

silver jewellery

small hands

smart people who aren't afraid to show it

george:

calm, laid back people

someone quiet, but still able to have a laugh

very friendly vibes - even when first meeting them

the colour blue (literally the only interesting colour he's able to see lol)

bright eyes

lip gloss

flower print

slightly shy people who are actually easy to interact with once you start a conversation with them

pastel-coloured nails, not too long

pink-tinted lips

ponytails

the smell of vanilla

puppy eyes

sapnap:

energetic people

someone who can hype up their friends no matter the situation

the colour red

like, a bloody red

soft skin

full lips

loose shirts over skin-tight tops

when shoelaces have a different colour on each shoe

corsets

a very subtle scent of perfume

thigh highs

someone who just wants to enjoy life with the people they're surrounded by

badboyhalo:

large, bright smiles that spread up to your eyes

freckles

button noses

rose-gold jewellery

french manicures

bangs

slightly shy people

genuinely sweet people

not the fake type that talks shit about people behind their backs and then will compliment them a few seconds after

someone who when they enter a room feels like a breath of fresh air to everyone else

someone completely selfless

the smell of lavender

shiny hair

technoblade:

people who aren't afraid to take the lead

glasses

intellectual people

like, for example people who know a lot of random stuff from a bunch of different things that they're interested in

or also just book smart people

slightly clumsy people (finds it cute)

gold jewellery

someone with some mystery to them

refreshing scents, like clean laundry or shampoo

cat eyes (eyeliner)

wilbur soot:

long legs

chokers

shy people

someone who gets flustered easily

glasses + thin bangs

the colours brown and beige together

baggy, comfy clothes

the smell of newly baked cookies

beanies

the kind of person that makes him feel like he can always talk to them - someone he can feel safe with

birth marks

accents

jschlatt:

smart people

the way they speak is just so clean without even noticing

fox eyes

people who aren't afraid to wear sweatpants in public

generally just someone who isn't afraid to do, say and wear whatever they want

someone who stands for what they think and have the balls to say it when needed

nose rings

simple yet flattering pieces of jewellery

long nails

someone who he can stay up all night with and never get tired of them

high heels

hip dips

corpse husband:

fishnets, of course

someone who give 0 fucks about what everyone else thinks of them

unique people

wether that be physical features or straight up the personality, it draws him in

chokers

chunky, black sneakers or boots

someone who can make him happy without even trying

a positive aura for the most part

as in he doesn't want to be surrounded by someone who’s negative or dragging everyone else down with them

the colour yellow

rings - lots of them

karl jacobs:

a walking ray of sunshine, basically

tbh, karl has a couple of things in common with what corpse is attracted to;

positive energy, uniqueness and rings

a palette filled with bright colours

like, almost rave style colours

that could be clothes, makeup, hair, nails, accessories

chunky, white shoes

selfless people

someone who as each day goes by becomes more charming to him

he likes the smell of candles from bath and body works, as we all know

the colour purple

skeppy:

big eyes

someone who’s able to make him laugh without even trying

tooth gaps

someone who has very playful, innocent vibes to them

and someone who can take jokes and pranks

people who walk confidently

the smell of strawberries

long eyelashes

someone who collects things others usually wouldn’t

someone who is very respectful to others

a mix between really comfy clothes and really feminine clothes

fundy:

someone who comes across as “different” than others

and don't you dare think of ✨I’m not like other girls✨ (I know you did -_-)

he just thinks people who think and act very different than others are very interesting

beauty marks

nicely shaped eyebrows

someone who finds mystical things interesting

fox eyeliner (yes, I put this in here because: furry)

someone who has unusual, yet surprisingly good taste in music

people who are constantly warm

red lips

the colour light brown, almost beige-like

quackity:

someone who gets his humour

someone like him, but more quiet and slightly shy

especially when on screen in front of an audience

sliver necklaces

the smell of flowers

dark, extreme eyeliner

loose clothes

freckles

piercings

someone who teases others and who can handle to be teased by others

the colour dark blue

punz:

the colour grey

a fresh fashion sense

yet still very comfortable fits

messy buns

someone who he just knows will be a cool person before he even talks to them

someone who just has that kinda vibe, y’know?

glossy lips

independent people

someone responsible and caring to others

tattoos

navel piercings

awesamdude:

cropped jackets

the colour neon green

hair put up in a bun

someone with a free nature

someone who is a complete wild card

like, someone who will jump over a fence just to get closer to a bunny they think they saw on the other side of it

loose strands of hair

clear nail polish

cargo pants

the smell of chocolate

slimecicle:

people who have comfort items

someone who knows random facts that no one else usually knows

people who have a unique way of thinking

passionate people

and when they talk about what they’re passionate about, they talk for hours

shorter hair

sweet and nutty scents

natural beauty

fluffy hair

honest people

but not brutally honest

the smell of coconut

eret:

eye glitter/shimmer

silky clothes that shine in the moonlight

platform boots/heels

long, flowy dresses

someone who does whatever they want

and who doesn't like being told what to do by others

the colours pink and dark purple

the smell of the ocean

someone who already knows how to live their life

stretch marks

foolish:

low-cut jeans

someone very silly who knows how to have a good laugh

someone very supportive of their friends

curtain bangs

long-sleeved sweatshirts

someone who loves food

puppy eyes

straight, white teeth

someone who is willing to help others in need

someone who doesn't talk badly about others behind their back

someone who knows what they want

jack manifold:

confidence

white, wide-legged pants

the colour light blue or just pure white

people who are very easy-going and fun to be around

someone who can fit into and understand anyones humour

an open-minded person who likes to hear from other people’s point of views when they have a different opinion than them

butterfly patterns

crop tops

oversized t-shirts

hair beads

tommy:

people who are just as loud as him

and at the same time knows when to be serious

the colours yellow and grey

people who are kind to everyone

creative eyeliner

fluffy hair

people who can get so lost in their own world, they almost forget about their surroundings

colourful accessories

someone who isn't afraid to be who they are

someone who has many passions and loves to talk about them

oversized hoodies

tubbo:

hoodies layered over skirts or dresses

frilly socks

people who are very adventurous, and wants to make their life as interesting as possible!

someone who can help him overcome some of his fears

charm bracelets

cute habits

the colours yellow and orange

dimples

the smell of almond milk and honey

people who twirl their hair unknowingly when bored or unfocused

ranboo:

someone who looks intimidating at first (he thinks people like that are cool as fuck)

but then is, like, the sweetest person he’s ever met

loves someone who can speak fluent sarcasm, just like him

he likes sass

glassy skin

fingerless gloves

people who act cocky for the fun of it

but actually don’t care about winning or losing or proving anything

simplistic earring placements

people who have hidden talents, and the more you get to know them, the more talents are revealed

people who don't gossip

____________________________________

tag list✰

@zayenz @terribletoothbat @0t0n1n @0125cm @yukiuheh @shinee-is-5-forever @regularnoceur @b01nk-b0w@christhebish@nutritious-emo-crackkk@bookishreid@giavanna-707 @reddiesmcdonalds@cosmins@vixxzial@autumnpleaves@paradigmax@meaganjm@shiningsunrises@moralofwalls@username1212131@gxldentaestuff@innitdream @televisionpresent38 @bubblyanis@zurami @highoffhockey @popinjaytaylor@196os@livsbaby@doubts-of-gold@bunlina@retrav @mcyt-is-my-life@aleaisntcreative @my-shitpost-of-writing @my-shitpost-of-writing @clownsdrowning @pissbabywastaken@shiningsunrises @tie-dyed-dumbass @death-by-rats@simpfordraco @bippity-boppity-boopa@neongreendaydreams  @vibin-by-myself@littlepotatos0w0@christhebish @pipp-poppz@btsiguess-kpop@prettysmallfries@hiyoko-kos@kenmxskitten@fudrudy@weepingartanimespy@rhino-zucchini@goldenstarofthunderclan@melonmarz@ubeicecreamisthebest@polaroidinurroom @ady-yoo@isimpforeveryone@edenhollandd@ineedtogetoutofhere@glitter-night @hamilsandersfam@mothheart-witch @wrong-exit@trashcanfullofdork  @hellfirepheonixx @marshmallow-babe@isimpforeveryone @ky50621 @randomcloud@wormie4k@dinonuggies50  @p4rty-t4ttoos@aspenthegremlin@book-of-anarchy @jeyacore @thetattooink@gogywasfound@millavalntyne@junob1ade@ubeicecreamisthebest@karida @i-have-paws-love@drvgonraja@eatasslikegrass@creamofweep@venusomega@lunarfedora@rowe-n @wreny24 @vincent-stargogh @floatingplanets​ @vernon-dursley​ @childhoodgrunge​ @fivxss @hexagonclash​ @crazyjuls12​ @littlebabysandboxburritos @shifted-dreams@lenamarie666 @reinyrei @sozvuchiy @weaslvy-mxlfoy​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @honeyglaazed @carisle-mikealson​ @ineedtogetoutofhere​ @twist3dtinkerbell@cracraforfandoms@angel-dazey @leia-starly @smiithys​ @squiddyyyy​ @c0wc0ww​ @animeweeb019284​ @m00-bl00m-k0le @stqrs-thoughts @jenlouvre @uhhhguiltypleasures​ @trappedchest​ @punzrights​ @trashgremlin36​ @cyberrsoot​ @elebeleb​ @k3nn3dis-crap​ @karlshoodies​ @rascal-in-banishment​ @heartbroken-writer​ @bartok-the-magnificent​ @ihavenoideashelp​ @goldiefox1​ @bethybop​ @helluhru​ @venuzblr​ @pha5ed5tar50 @cscooop​  @bethybop @lunareclipse-13 @http-strawberryy​ @mahitophobic​ @ahmya-4​ @dracoscumwh0re @darkdaria1 @jiminifiess​ @orchardangel​ @shyorchider​ @cupcake54492​ @natsueyama​ @honeyconnie​ @notacardigan​ @maybeshroom​

[sexhaver]

laundry list of actual complaints i have about elden ring so far:

it's a pc game released in 2022 locked at 60fps with occasional stutters that seem to be able to smell fear and will manifest exactly at the worst possible time to get you killed. i have a 3070 and ryzen 7, i should not be struggling with this

occasional but noticeable glitches. the worst one ive encountered so far is with Renna (the boss of Raya Lucaria). her first phase is supposed to have her levitating above a bunch of trash mobs in a yellow bubble, with one of the trash mobs singing to keep the bubble intact (indicated by them singing and having a yellow aura). she's totally invincible while levitating and you need to kill 3 of the singing mobs in a row to bring her down and make her vulnerable. sometimes, though, when you enter the boss arena, Renna's bubble just... isn't there. and neither are the singing mobs. i think you can still hit her with ranged damage but for all practical purposes the fight is unwinnable like this and the correct response is to instantly quit out and rejoin, which sucks if you summoned help already. also this happens to people fighting her for the first time who don't know it's a glitch and they waste half an hour trying to figure it out

also the glitch where you can set yourself on fire while holding a Shotel of Death and the mere act of rolling near someone in PVP will literally instakill them from full health in under 5 seconds while you stay invincible, that's fun

my friend has accidentally permanently locked himself out of Ranni's questline somehow even though online guides say he should be eligible for it and he isn't the only one

using hard souls golden runes from the item menu is such a fucking hassle. you have to look at how many runes you currently have, calculate how many more you need to afford the thing you want, look at what golden runes you have on hand, try and fail to remember how much each tier is worth, crush what you think is the appropriate amount (which requires selecting Use Selected instead of the default Use), then come up 30 runes short because you weren't paying attention to the last 2 digits. you can kind of sidestep this by pressing R3 in your inventory, which gives you the "compact" view and also stops the menu from closing between golden rune uses, but then that introduces the issue where you can't actually see how many runes you have total as you crush the items. just let us spend golden runes directly at shops or something, please.

also comparing your own armor to armor in a shop requires taking a picture with your phone. this is what the salty Horizon Forbidden West devs were talking about when they said the UX sucks

Festering Bloody Fingers (invasion item) getting used up even when you fail to find an invasion target feels really fucking bad. this is more of a minor gripe than anything because anyone deadass about invasions is going to get the infinitely reusable version anyways, but like, come on

when i pick up a new item i sometimes don't know where to find it in my inventory. is that deer skull i just picked up a helmet? no, okay, is it a fist weapon? no, okay, is it a key item? nope haha wrong it's in the first tab of your inventory halfway down next to the mimic veil, get fucked. just add a button to the pickup notification prompt that automatically opens your inventory to the item's description page

the map is kind of low-rez when zoomed in, does a poor job of conveying some vertical cliff faces, and occasionally straight up lies about the positions/existence of roads. i get that some/all of that is intended, but god damn is it obnoxious sometimes

horse platforming oh my fucking god. whoever at Fromsoft decided to make platforming sections that require a double jump and then tied said double jump to a horse that steers with all the fine precision of a blimp is the real masochist there, not whoever keeps sneaking in new variants of Poison status effects. oh im sorry, did you land on the right platform but facing the wrong direction? nope, no 180 degree turn for you, fall off the platform for even thinking you could pull that shit, do not pass Go, do not collect $200, good DAY to you sir

to be clear, i still think that even with all of these issues, this is very clearly game of the year and possibly game of the decade. i just don't want people thinking im some diehard fanboy incapable of seeing the game's flaws

[borderline-sociopath]

I made a list of all the smaller or bigger details that I found important on Young Royals.

Some of them are the happy ones but also the ones that devastate me included. They are in chronological order.

Episode 1

Wilhelm has these small manerisms he does due to his training. Like when he stands up, he buttons his jacket as is proper.

Wilhelm being seemingly annoyed by people treating him differently (like Alexander getting his bags), and especially when they want to photograph him doing vain shit.

When Simon starts to sing, the boy (Vincent?) ask him this ”ursäkta, skulle du kunna sjunga lite högre?” And in finnish and english its translated as ”louder”, but im adamant the boy meant it as ”higher”, as to mock Simons voice.

The way some of the characters slip in these english phrases in the swedish they talk.

Felices ”those” hands in Maddies hair…

Sara teaching Ayub how to formally arrange the cutlery on the table.

Simon comforting his mom about their standing in school

Wilhelm telling the other 1st yearers off for trying to impress him by copying.

Simon looking Wilhelm from head to toe and calling out his family for the money they receive.

Wilhelm introducing himself to Simon even everyone knows who he is.

Wilhelm nearly dropping his knife when making Simon smile.

At the initiation party Wilhelms cheer ”hur sjönk Vasa? Botten upp!” (How did Vasa sink? Bottoms up!)

Alexanders heart-glasses at the party

Simons neon halo at the party

Wilhelm singin Takes a fool to remain sane drunk af

Simon little shit trying to annoy Wilhelm by repeating August’s call.

Episode 2

Wilhelm glancing carefully at Simon after being saved by being forced on the table during eating.

Simon being seemingly terrified on the rowing boat

Rosh and Ayub teasing Simon on his rowing training.

Wilhelm holding it together until August leaves the room while speaking to Erik and then letting his reaction come.

”What do you mean intensive? He is hysterical!”

Simons and Wilhelms small glances after planking

While August invades the table Wilhellm and Simon are studying, Wilhelm is just sitting there like ”please kill me”

Nils throwing Madison with Hubba Bubba gum while studying and the girl beside her thorwing a pencil at Nils for retaliation (this kinda shit teens actually do!)

Wilhelms red lightstrip

Wilhelm having a nervous breakdown after waiting for his crush to answer

Wilhellms little mediation moment before answering Simon

Girls greeting the prince at the skatepark

Wilhelm wearing the red lightstrip

Wilhelms face when August is talking about how examplary Simon is.

Wilhelm indistically reaching to Simon during the jump scare.

Willes pinky touching Simons leg

Wille shying away just for a second before kissing Simon properly for the first time just because he has no idea what he is doing.

Episode 3

Wilhelm figuring out Simon cant read the notes

Willhelms realisation when he sees Simon in the changing room

Wilhelm trying to desperately invite Simon to spend time with him during parents weekend and ending up being a total mess

The rap song playing when the parents arrive

Vincents mom trying to tie his tie properly

Simons and Wilhelms looks while they all sing the Hillerska song

Wille being fed up with Augusts photoshoot

Wilhelm groaning while admiting to Erik that there is someone special

Simon messing up the introduction of Wilhelm and his mother

Simons impressions being ashamed when Rosh scolds him

Sara: ”Have you kissed the prince???”

Wilhelms panic slowly building before he is escorted to answer the phone.

Episode 4

Wilhelms whole appearance is changed after what happened

Wilhelm being made to walk first after the coffin

All the students watching the funeral struck with grief and Alexander being devastated

Wilhelm abandoning the official paper and speaking freely

Wille huggin the headmistress tight

Wilhelm exploding on the bodyguards for wanting to be left alone for just a moment

Malin refusing to let August in to see Wilhelm

Saras reactions and laugh when August kisses her.

Augusts and Wilhelms spontaneous shouting in the night

Wilhelms ”Fuck” reaction at the football field.

”Are you mad at me?”

Willes groan before he confesses that he remembers telling Simon he likes him

Simon sweeping away Willes hair after telling him he also likes him.

The song Live and Die by Gina Dirawi <3

Episode 5

Malin pretending there arent 2 teenagers behind the door giggling and making out

Simon: ”Tack Malin”

Simon asking Wilhelm to come to visit him in Bjärnstad ”Snälla~” (Please~)

Wilhelm picking up breakfast for Simon since he didnt get any

Sara looking straight at Wilhelm when Simon says he didnt sleep at home

”The water is cold today! So you know.”

Wilhelm and Simon circulating one another in Simons room nervous af

Malin and Linda sitting in the livingroom drinking tea pretending their dependents arent having sex in the next room.

Wilhelm finally standing up for Simon in the Society meeting

Closeup on Wilhelms face when he admits that he is afraid of losing Simon since he is the only one he can really talk to

Samurai Swords by Highasakite playing during the scene <3

The teacher calling Simons voice angelic.

Episode 6

No one ever bringing up the ”are you gay?” guestion on Wilhelm.

Wilhelm just wanting to be held rolling in his bed.

Henry trying to defuse the tension by asking if Wilhelm saw the game yesterday.

Wille resting his head on Simons shoulder and Simon caressing his hair.

Wille resting his head on Simons lap.

How are you? I feel like throwing up.

Simon greeting the queen shakily and her reaching her hand to Simon.

Besides denying himself being in the video, Wilhelm also stated that he does not want to be in a relationship during his studies.

Single tear rolling down on Willes cheek during the ”I dont want to be anyones secret” scene.

Wille holding back bursting into tears when walking back to car.

The phones light reflecting on Willes face when he hung up after his moms betrayal.

Simon closing his eyes to embrace Wille.

The Look.