#i REALLY want his guns to be number 2 double tap for some reason

[gothamcityneedsme]

im halfway-ish through the nightwing dlc and then im gonna play the robin one again and THEN i’m done with arkhamverse. i may make a few more posts about it whenever i finally go through my screenshots (there are a lot).

i also, just for fun, did a little more challenge stuff on red hood.  GOD he’s interesting to play.  although it’s weird he can’t do fear takedowns or weapon destroys.  he’s somewhere between underpowered and op as hell, because his guns are just insanely good, both in predator and in combat.

i did the gcpd building as him just shooting through the windows from the outside and it was just. insanely fun.  i kept swapping sides of the building and everyone inside was running scared an i was basically never at risk. it was awesome, especially after how long and difficult that building can get on other characters (im looking at YOU, my over thirty minute long 3-star run on nightwing where i couldn’t break glass).

[twotapbuz]

This fic was inspired by this post by @swampythesweetsketch. I’ll post the fics for the rest of 1010 as soon as I finish them.

You were hired to be a personal bodyguard for Eloni

Along with the standard supplies(1010-themed uniform, flashlight, pepper spray, body camera), you were given a watch that would alert you to Eloni’s location whenever he was in trouble

This along with the job wouldn’t be out of the ordinary if it weren’t for the fact that neither of the other members of 1010 had personal bodyguards

You would soon learn why after your fourth concert

You had been approached by two lost fans that were looking for the meet & greet table when your watch suddenly began to beep rapidly. “Eloni must be in trouble,” you thought as you excused yourself from the duo and quickly hurried to the idol’s location. Eloni had somehow gotten to an alley near the venue. You weren’t really sure what to expect. Had a fan tried to kidnap him? You had heard stories from other security staff about crazy fangirls trying to take them or at least pieces of them. You reached the alley and found Eloni being hoisted by a group.

“Freeze!” you said while holding up your pepper spray. This diverted the group and they looked at you. “Drop the robot, now.”

“And if we don’t?” mockingly replied one of the “fans”.

“I’ll send this video to Neon J and have you banned from any future 1010 events.” you tapped your body camera. The threat of not seeing “the loves of their lives” caused the group to practically drop Eloni and they all scattered.

“Thank you.” Eloni got up. “You’re the first guard to catch them before they threw me into the trash”

“No problem, just stay away from alleyways.” you began to write an email, informing Neon J that Eloni had been safely retrieved. “ We wouldn’t want to-wait... the trash?” you stopped and looked up at him.

“Yeah, they usually throw me into the trash. One time I got thrown into a nearby pond.” Eloni admitted, embarrassed.

“And how often does this happen?”

“Around every other concert.” Eloni began to lean on the alley wall

“Yeesh, no wonder Eloni needs a personal guard,” you thought. “Wow. I knew the fans were a bit crazy, but I didn’t think they would go this far.” you tried to pick out your words carefully, trying and failing to not upset the robot.

“I just don’t understand why they hate me so much?” Tears began to fall down Eloni’s face. you froze, unsure what to do, before moving to comfort him.

“Hey, I’m um really sorry about what’s happening to you… if you want, I could maybe give you some advice?”

“Really?”

“Yeah” you looked at your watch. “We should head back to the venue, Neon J is worried about you.” Eloni wiped the tears off his face and began to walk beside you

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s not a problem.”

You unofficially become Eloni’s PR Manager:

After that moment, you would help Eloni with his image before every event(it was the only time you would see each other as you had no reason to be near Barraca Mansion, and giving Eloni your phone number would be unprofessional).

“You’re supposed to be the funny guy of the group, right?” Eloni nodded. “Well, give me a joke. Let’s see what you got.”

“Ok. What did the fish say when he swam into a wall? Dam.” Eloni shot finger guns at you. You stared at him. “Why do fish live in saltwater? Pepperwater makes them sneeze!” Eloni said, less confident.

“...I see. In the nicest way I can say this, you need new material, Eloni.”

“What? But I spent hours researching jokes on the internet!”

“That’s the problem. Everybody has heard of these jokes. If you want to be funny, you gotta be original. Here.” you handed Eloni a piece of paper. “There’s this restaurant in Dream Cast called The Mind Palace that hosts comedy hours every Saturday at 7 pm. I was going to go, but something came up, so you can have my ticket.”

“Really? Thanks!” Eloni smiled

-----------

“So, how was the show?” It was the Monday after the show and you were curious to hear Eloni’s new material.

“It was great! They’re definitely gonna love my new material!” Eloni pulled out his phone and began to show you a video. It was 1010 doing a tour around Vinyl City. Eloni paused the video and pointed at himself. He was dabbing. Between the Eloni in the video dabbing and real-life Eloni looking so proud, you couldn’t help but chuckle and this adorably dorky display. Eloni liked your laugh.

While the new material definitely got Eloni some fans, it still wasn’t enough. So you began to inquire about some of his hobbies

“Another way to get people to like you is to seem relatable. Do you have any hobbies?” You asked

“I bake in my spare time”

“Perfect! We can make a YouTube account and post some of your recipes there. Cooking channels are very popular, I even follow some myself.”

Your advice ends up working and Eloni begins to have his own fan club

He’s given the same love that his brothers are.

You’d think this would be the end of your job, afterall, you were hired to keep Eloni safe from angry fans, but now they all love him.

Instead, the lack of necessity for your job is strangely never brought up by Neon J and you continue business as usual.

You’ve got a crush on Eloni:

You recognize that you’ve got a crush immediately

Ever since Eloni became popular, the two of you’ve had fewer opportunities to talk to each other as he was constantly approached by fans

Having to stand by and watch Eloni be constantly flirted with made it pretty easy to realize your feelings

You decide to ignore these feelings

After all, your relationship was purely professional

Ok maybe all those times you accompanied him all over Vinyl City were just excuses to hang out, but still, your relationship was professional 

And his number was saved in your personal phone and you two often texted each other 

Even if your relationship was more than professional, Eloni had a lot more choices than you and you didn’t want to ruin what you had

Eloni realizes he’s got a crush:

It first started when he saw a stage technician flirting with you. Eloni got annoyed by this, but he didn’t know why.

It took a while for Eloni to realize his feelings. He at first mistook his crush as just being glad that you were his friend

Eloni also began to think about you a lot. Not just about your advice, but he also began to be reminded of you wherever he went.

It wasn’t until the middle of a baking stream that he realized that he had a crush on you

Eloni tries to flirt with you:

Attempt #1, the 1010 style:

Eloni decided to make his move. 

“Hey, Y/N!” You turned around to face the green robot. “Have you thought of joining 1010? Cause you're definitely a ten out of ten.”

“That was a really good one! You should definitely use that during the concert.” You replied, unable to tell the difference between Eloni asking if his lines were good and him flirting with you. Eloni hid his disappointment, but I guess that’s what happens when you use someone as practice for your pickup lines.

Attempt #2, the sweet way:

Eloni decided to take a more “traditional” route by giving you a box of homemade chocolate. And by giving you a box of chocolate, he would place it on top of your locker and would tell you it was him when you opened it.

Eloni waited for you to show up, but you never did. He was about to search for you when he was suddenly stopped by Neon J.

“Troop, this is Emiro.” Neon J gestures to the robot next to him, “He’ll be your bodyguard for tonight.”

“What happened to Y/N?”

“Y/n had an allergic reaction to something they had been eating. Thankfully, they had an epipen on them, but they're taking the rest of the day off.” With that, Neon J left Eloni with the realization that you were probably allergic to the chocolate he made. He was definitely not telling you that he made it.

Attempt #3, third times the charm:

This time, the rest of 1010 decided to devise a plan to help their brother. 

They knew Eloni would probably never confess outrightly and while his feelings for you were obvious to Neon J and them, it would take a bit more effort for you to notice.

NSR was hosting a party on the anniversary of the company's creation. And with parties came a lot of security.

You and several other members were assigned to go undercover as party guests and report anything suspicious

This meant that instead of your usual attire, you wore a dress/suit 

You still had your watch(the Eloni signal) with you as it also doubled as a radio that you could use to notify staff of suspicious activity

You had been casually chatting with other NSR staff when your watch had started to beep rapidly

Eloni was in trouble

You immediately rushed off to find him, it had been months since he last needed to signal you so it must’ve been bad

You turned around the corner to where Eloni was, only to be met with Haym.

“Haym?”

“Oh hey Y/N! How's it going?”

“Hello, Haym. I’m sorry, but I can’t really talk right now. I’m looking for Eloni, but my watch says he’s right here.”

“Don’t worry, I know where he is!” Haym proceeded to push you into a nearby room. You try to open the door only to find that it was locked. You tried to call someone on your watch, but it was gone. Haym must’ve taken when he pushed you.

“Haym, what the hell is going on! Let me out!” You said while banging on the door. He was kinda your boss, but you had a much more casual relationship with the other members of 1010.

“Y/N?” A voice said behind you. You turned around only to find Eloni. You could tell because of the green eyes and cheeks, which dimly lit the darkroom.

“Eloni? Is that you?” You couldn’t really tell due to how dark it was.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good. Do you happen to know why Haym locked us into this room?”

“Well, my brothers thought it would be funny if….” Eloni hesitated.

“Please tell me this isn’t some messed up version of seven minutes in heaven.”

“What, nonono!” Eloni’s fans began to whir loudly

“Right, sorry. Not like I’d have a chance anyway,” you mumbled that last part 

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, Well it’s just you're a famous idol and you’ve got a lot of fans, you know?

“Who cares if I’m famous! That doesn’t make you any less incredible than you are. You’ve made me so happy and you helped me become popular! You were my first fan and I would love to go on a date with you! Eloni froze after realizing what he said.

“Wait, you like me?”

“Yeah”, Eloni blushed, I have for a while. I understand if you want to forget that this happened. I’m really sorry and I-“ 

You cut Eloni off with a kiss.

“Don’t worry. I feel the same way.”

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

“I’m going to the roof to stargaze. Would you like to join me?” Eloni asked. You had managed to unlock the door, and by unlock, you kicked the door open.

“Well I’m supposed to be out on the lookout for suspicious people,” Eloni’s face began to slightly falter. “But, my main objective is to keep you safe, so It’s best if I go with you. After all, you know how crazy fans can get.” With that, the two of you headed towards the roof. 

“Well, that was really cheesy,” Zimelu said, peering his head behind a corner, before getting smacked by Rin. 

[echo-three-one]

Run run run....

Table of Contents

Previous Chapter : Going Dark - Part 1

Chapter 23 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Going Dark - Part 2

John "Soap" MacTavish

London, United Kingdom

Soap never knew that the bloody guy would pull that trick off his sleeve. He's been sick of the same ringing he first experienced when they went out with Francine.

So he did what he could and quickly got up to his feet as soon as he saw Alex attempt to halt the hostage on his tracks. That bastard's going to pay for stomping on Alex like that.

With comms down once again, he had to act fast, stomping down the stairs, never leaving sight of the runner. He could sense someone following him and assumed it's any of Roach, Price or Jack. And it looked like Ghost caught wind of what happened too.

"Oi! Let's flank him!" Soap roared across the empty streets as Ghost and Roach split ways and ran toward their target.

They're not kidding when they said the Shadow Company is at par with the 141, the guy ran like a horse which Soap never expected from his build. He could see Ghost and Roach sprinting from his sides, one wrong turn and he's done for, but he still had one last trick. 

He raced to the emergency stairs as his heavy feet clanged against the metal. Soap followed, optimizing the steps on edges to gain on him. Going up the rooftops was his biggest mistake.

"Bollocks, he's still running!" he announced as he felt his ears crackling. 

"Well…. st….by…. do….airs.." His earpiece crackled through the static. It's recovering but they're already far off MacMillan's truck where their line connected.

He leaped. Soap almost stopped in his tracks as the runner courageously leapt across the huge gap and rolled on to the next building. He braced himself and continued dashing across the roof and did a mighty leap, his arms circled like he was swimming and he carefully placed his feet to perform a proper land and rolled.

That's going to hurt as soon as the adrenaline fades, but he quickly got up and made use of his remaining burst of energy. 

The runner stopped in his tracks as soon as Roach emerged from the opposite fire escape, raising a pistol pointed straight at him as he raised his hand in surrender.

"Nowhere to run now." Roach said, cautiously walking near him. He's aware that his phone is still inside his pocket and that they had no idea when it'll go off again.

He didn't talk, but he looked panicked. He was sweating all over and his face was beyond recognizable. It looked like he's out of options.

"Tell us Where Shepherd is…" Gary pointed the loaded gun on his head, the desperation in Gary's eyes were obvious.

"There's an abandoned plane graveyard near Afghanistan…" he whimpered. His voice was shaky enough to warrant the truth.

"What's he doing there?" Soap added.

"He's trading the blueprints for the I.P. Address… Please that's all I know" he begged and they quickly left the place, walking back to MacMillan's car.

"You got something?" Ghost asked as soon as Roach's feet landed on the dark alley.

"A place. In Afghanistan." Roach answered.

"And he also had the I.P. Address.." Soap added.

"But that's impossible… didn't Samantha already forget about it?" Ghost asked but there was a quiet pause. Their brains almost looked like working together.

"Holy Crap." Roach finally broke the silence.

And from that moment they realized the other reason behind Samantha's memory returning. One way or another, her memories were once again toyed with.

~

"So how was it?" Price asked the team that ran off to chase the runner.

"We got an address. An abandoned plane yard in Afghanistan." Roach replied. Soap turned to Alex as he sat at the back of the jeep tending to his wound. 

"You okay mate?" he asked walking close to his ally, who was wincing in pain.

"The guy's boots are heavy." He chuckled and so did Soap.

"Listen, Alex. We heard that Shepherd has the I P. address, did Samantha tell you anything about remembering it?" Soap asked as the whole team fell silent and turned to the two.

"Not really. What's bothered me is that she remembers everything except after when Shepherd explained his plans to her… Could it be that…" Alex trailed.

"She remembered because they undid their operation on her…" Jack continued. The whole group stood in silence. 

Price's phone rang and delivered them with more bad news. It looked like while chasing the runner, Shepherd had caught wind of their activity and had some of London police scour the nearby streets for them.

"Da, It's time to go, my comrades." Nikolai announced as soon as Price relayed the message. Their ride home was compromised.

"Where to?" He asked.

"I know a place." Soap said.

TRAIN STATION

It looked like Soap's hunch was right. None of the people onboard to Scotland mind about the faces of the fugitives flashed on the news recently. 

Their day packs had reserved clothes and they opted to change to something more civilian. Soap could smell the fabric conditioner France used to wash his newly bought clothes and couldn't help but miss her. If they weren't on a rush, Soap could've topped up for international calls.

"How long is this trip? 7 hours?" Price asked a civilian with surprised expressions.

"Wow. It's like a plane ride, but I'm still in the same country!" Jack cackled at the idea. He does have a different sense of humor. Just as Alex described him.

The rest of the team took this time to rest, they sat on the emptiest part of the train, away from the people that might recognize them and report their presence.

"I've contacted Samantha. It looks like they're having a small problem over there." Alex said.

"Someone saw one of us fugitives and tried to get inside the house to claim his bounty. At first they just talked him off but he's persistent now. So they decided to fly to our location and regroup there. And Soap, where exactly are we going?" Alex asked. Soap took a careful look around his team and felt nervous about his decision.

"Our old house. In Scotland. It's far off civilization. I think no one would look for us there." he muttered, gaining a nod from Price and Jack. Soap sighed in relief as soon as they thought of it as a good idea. Roach actually felt excited despite having to go there by train for seven hours. He immediately made that decision a few minutes ago without anyone's approval, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Hey, you three… Thanks for chasing that runner while we were out. Go catch some sleep. We'll watch over this train. It's going to be a long trip." Price nudged and Jack nodded. Soap gave a pair of earbuds to Price, the old man immediately looked at him with question.

"What's this? A hearing aid?" Price asked.

"Our runner wore that so it might be the reason he wasn't affected by his own blast." He muttered before crossing his arms.

"Thanks, mate. I'll let someone have a look at this." Price nodded and Jack immediately inserted with a suggestion.

"I know someone near Glasgow. A close friend of mine." 

"That's great. He's closer." Price agreed and Soap slowly drifted himself asleep, trying to rest his tired legs all while also trying not to worry about Francine.

GLASGOW, SCOTLAND

The never shifting scenery of the road home sent John MacTavish into a little nostalgia trip. The sound of trains screeching across the station reminded him of so many things from the past.  The road they're walking along now was the same road he's walked on everyday of his life, and now after a lot of years, he can't believe he's back.

"I don't see anything nearby,  are you sure we're not lost Soap?" Roach asked.

"We aren't. The house is just obstructed by the trees. They've grown taller since I last left." he replied enthusiastically. He looked obviously excited to see his home.

As soon as they reached the short curve, a huge cream-painted house greeted them from the distance. He could hear Alex and Roach's collective oohs and aahs every step they took closer.

"When you said old, I was really expecting it to be abandoned." Roach mused.

"It is, actually. My parents are off… somewhere else." he replied leading the way inside the house. The pool was already dirty and most weeds already outgrew the fences.

Soap pushed the huge wooden double door open and was greeted by the same visage of their entrance way back when he was a kid. Same pictures hung on the walls of his adventures as a kid up to the recent photo of his graduation. His mom was always proud of him no matter what, but he couldn't forget the way she looked at him once he chose to enlist to the riskiest job ever.

The rest of the team helped themselves to discovering the inside of the house, looking at photos, sitting on the couches and grabbing a glass of water. Soap quickly gave them a tour of the house and that they're free to pick a guest room of their choice. It was appropriate that they'd feel comfortable after a tough day.

"Nice place you got here, comrade. Why'd you give this all up for a life that's always hanging on the ledge?" Nikolai asked, tapping his shoulder. 

"I don't even know." he muttered and Nikolai chuckled, making his way to the living room. The team was quick to adapt to the place. Roach and Ghost already chose their rooms and he assumed they already attempted to recover while the three older men gathered around the television and watched the news. Alex was by the telephone, probably contacting Samantha. He wanted to check on France himself, so he planned to go to his room and make a call.

"The New York attack stopped." Price discussed with Nikolai and Jack, the three began speculating about a lot of things. Soap would love to join in the conversation but he decided to update on Francine first.

His room looked the same as when he left, the same shade of blue wallpaper, the same color sheets that were changed weekly and the same things on top of his bedside drawer.

Dialing her number, which he subconsciously memorized, he immediately placed the receiver on his ear and anxiously waited for her to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" her voice sounded different over the phone, but it still sent shivers across his spine as soon as he heard it.

"Hey. It's me." he replied.

"Angelo?" she asked, her voice almost sounded like she's fighting herself not to laugh.

"It's John." 

"I know, silly. Who would mistake you for anyone else with that accent." she retorted.

"Do ya like it?" he teased, making sure he emphasized his Scottish accent well.

"Why'd you call?" She changed the topic. She wasn't budging on his teasing, but he knew she's already blushing on the other side of the line.

"Did Price give you the landing coordinates?" he asked.

"Yeah. Maxine looked it up on the map. It looks like a shady house in the middle of nowhere. Who are you?" she joked.

"Great. I'll see you here. I-" he hesitated. He wanted to tell her how much he misses her. But even with his oozing confidence, he felt like chickening out this time.

"Yeah. We're on our way. Take care out there John." She said and dropped the call. Soap sighed and plopped himself on his bed, deeply sighing at his actions. This girl was making him crazy… and the funny thing is he's all fine with it.

Next Chapter : Going Dark - Part 3

Notification Squad my Beloved

@smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @beemybee @whimsywispsblog @ricinbach

[male-reader-requests]

Unknown

Pairings: None

Word Count: 2,351

Warnings: This is a little short story so not a one-shot. This talks about Serial Killer stuff, specifically the Zodiac Killer. So uh, blood and gore. Be careful. I am also in the middle of getting together an actual update so don't worry!

-

I would not know them.

They would be chosen at random, by pure coincidence.

The game, the most dangerous game would be my game. The most dangerous game, the most dangerous prey, the most dangerous predator, they would become my prey. 

I do not know my target, so they will not know me. I will go at night, not caring for the dangers of being caught, for I would not be linked to them. I would not care for my appearance, for I do not need to impress them. 

I would find a couple, maybe they are together for a passionate night, or perhaps I've caught them just as they decide to split ends, but it will not matter, for no one will ever know. They would be alone, at a beach or on a lover's lane, but I would make sure it was clean, that there were no witnesses and no survivers. This will be my design.

I will shine a light, maybe my headlights or perhaps just a floodlight, at them so they are unable to see me. The light, if a floodlight, will be tapped to my gun. I will have a silencer, to make my act a bit more privet from prying ears.

 Whoever is in the passenger seat, whether a man or woman, will be shot once in the neck, and the driver I will shoot twice in the head. If the passenger lives I will shoot them again, perhaps in the chest, maybe in the stomach, I do not care is they survive anymore. 

I will shoot the driver again in the chest and again perhaps in the stomach, then I will shoot the passenger as many times and as recklessly as I want, for I do not care. In the end, I will unload an entire magazine into two people, and I will leave, leaving the two of them to rot unnoticed until morning. If either survives then that is their problem. 

In the morning, at around 6 AM, I will call the police, reporting a double homicide. If one of them survives then that will just be a blip in the system, a single count of homicide and a single count of an attempt at homicide. 

I will tell them I did it, but I will call them from a burner phone. I will proceed to crush said phone and throw it into a river, never to be seen again. 

I will be familiar in all the wrong ways, and I will be an ever-recurring nightmare.

I will become the Zodiac Killer of the 21st century.

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

Marissa sighed, looking at the mass of paperwork before her. Being a detective in California was surprisingly boring, especially when all you ever see is a one on one gunfight between rivals. Currently, the last thing she'd done that seemed even slightly interesting was her divorce, and that had been four years ago.

Light hair fell onto the desk before her, her head following. It was slow for some reason, there was nothing for her to do. Well, that was a lie. She could answer the phone ringing on her desk, she could fill out the paperwork before her, and she could go actually eat something, but here she was, debating.

She was drifting in and out of sleep, dozing as her partner August would say, but it was a warm afternoon, who could blame her?

A sharp crack came across her back, the pale woman yelping as her partner snapped her suspenders. August chuckled at her, obnoxiously slurping at cheap coffee in hand. Marissa glared at him, but it was halfhearted, holding no true anger.

"What was that for?" she asked, but she was eyeing the coffee in his hands, not really listening. She didn't really care, the snapping of her suspenders had become a greeting of August's ever since they were paired up, so she's grown used to it.

August just hummed, putting the coffee mug down on the cluttered desk, having to push a few papers so make room. The two of them hardly cared for germs, so when Marissa cupped the mug to herself he hardly batted an eyelash.

"We've got an assignment," August mumbled, his voice shadowed by drowsiness and a slight speech impediment. Marissa didn't move, truthfully she wished that August hadn't said anything. 

August, bless his heart, normally dealt with all the paperwork. This meant that they were almost completely ready to head out to wherever they were needed, and as much as Marissa just wanted to sleep she knew that this was probably important.

They would have to talk to the head of their department, an older man named Louis Ridgway before they could go, and Marissa truly wished they didn't have to. Ridgway wasn't a bad person, but he liked to make things seem far more interesting then they are. 

Marissa struggled with her jacket as the two of them made their way to his office, dodging interns, other detectives, and officers. Their department was always busy, considering so many people died in California, but it seemed there were even more people here now than there ever were.

August, used to Marissa's struggles, helped his shorter partner into her jacket, then opened the door for her as they entered Ridgway's office. Ridgway, all bushy eyebrows and droopy mustache, waved them over. 

He ignored the normal "sit down and listen as I tell you about the case" and made the two of them stand behind him as he pulled up a few things on his computer. Marissa, ever the nosey person, saw a few crime scene photos, the kind you'd expect to see with the yellow number cards and a bit of blood on the ground.  

The thing that really got her attention though was the other set of photos, ones that looked like carbon copies except that they had been taken with an older camera, the photos themselves obviously being older if the dates on the bottoms of them were right. 

Ridgway turned his monitor off, cutting Marissa's view. "There's been a murder," Ridgway said gruffly, ignoring how lame that sounded. There were tons of murders in California every day, even more, if you count car crashes and accidents.

"I want the two of you to check it out, see if it matches." Marissa blinked a few times, confused and tired, but August nodded, grabbing the pale woman by the shoulder and steering her through the crowded office area. 

Actually back to herself, Marissa looked at August in confusion, but the taller man just got into the driver's seat of the car, motioning for her to also get in. Rolling her eyes she complied, not that she really wanted to, buckling herself in.

She didn't know where they were going, who was murder, how many had been murdered, but she blamed that on her pension for spacing out. August probably knew. .....probably.

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

It was a 2-hour drive. It was a 2-hour drive for only 38 miles, San Francisco to Benicia, and Marissa slept the entire time. She knew she wasn't looking her best, but that never really mattered to her. 

Sleep rumbled hair and bags under her eyes the short woman got out of the car, accepting the lukewarm coffee August handed her with silent gratitude. The two of them got a few odd looks from local police, but that was more of their own fault, being in a completely different county tended to do that. Police were oddly territorial.  

One young man though, obviously just out of training from how much younger he was than the other officers, offered to bring them to the scene. He was all polite and charming, and Marissa was thankful, she and August had to deal with enough rude officers back at the department. 

The younger officer brought them through the yellow tape and through the mass of officers mostly loitering. The first thing Marissa got to see was a shit box car, obviously older than average and painted in a fading teal that patched out to show a bit of rust. She then noticed the blood. 

There was blood smeared on the passenger door, backseat door on the passenger side, and in the window of the passenger door. There was a pool, or what was probably a pool at one point, of dried blood on the gravel at the backseat door, but Marissa couldn't look further for her view was blocked by a stocky man.   

The man himself she didn't recognize, once she'd actually looked up, but she could tell by the way he held himself that he was the head honcho here, and that he wasn't very happy with the two of them being there. 

He was tall, taller than Marissa but then again almost everyone was. He was older than the two of them, his face was saggy in a way you only get from heavy drinking and it was twisted in a sarcastic sneer.

"Well, what do we have here?" His voice, like his face, had a strangely saggy aspect to it, and Marissa hated it immediately. As rude as it was she wished she could zone out now, but August had put a hand on her shoulder, forcing her focus.

"Detectives Shultcher and Lynn, we're from San Francisco." August and Marissa pulled their badges out from their pockets, Marissa ending up holding hers upside down. 

The saggy faced man seemed to sneer a bit less, but it never left completely. He smiled down at Marissa, then moved to look up at August. His smile was fake, holding no joy or happiness, only restrained rudeness. 

He stepped back, letting the two of them through, but you could see the hesitation in his motions, the way he didn't want them there. Police were oddly territorial.

At the actual scene itself, there was a woman and a young man, both of them must have been part of the forensics force. The two of them were collecting samples from the blood, off the car and off the gravel. They had a chest next to them, full of little sample bags. 

Marissa hated dealing with Forensics specialists. It may just be a bit of prejudice, but every single Forensics team she's dealt with in San Francisco were rude beyond beliefe and treated her and August like they were stupid, like they hadn't gone through any training.  

The two of them hardly even noticed August and her, quietly talking to themselves as they worked. The guy apparently said something funny, making the woman laugh lightly. They left the two of them alone. 

Splitting up August went to talk to the first responding police officers, leaving Marissa to survey the scene. This is how they always did it, this is why the two of them worked so well together. August always talked to suspects and officers, leaving the scene to Marissa. 

Marissa walked a perimeter, looking around at different angles, knowing that anything could help. As she looked around something started to bother her, this scene, this crime itself, was oddly familiar, oddly something she felt she should know. 

With furrowed eyebrows and confusion Marissa continued to look around, but as she got closer to the Forensics team she started to see all the things that looked familiar, making her even more confused. 

On the other side of the car, Marrisa saw that the driver's windowsill was covered in blood, so was the seat and steering wheel.  It was odd how familiar all of this seemed, but there wasn't much she could do until the Forensics told her about what they'd found.

Walking back over to August she zoned out, trying to place why all of this was so God damned familiar, but she was getting nowhere, only getting frustrated in herself. She drank the coffee that August had given her early, she zoned in and out of August questioning, and she debated on falling asleep as she stood there, but as per usual when she wanted to sleep she wasn't able too.

August, finally finishing up, guided the two of them over to the Forensics team, who were started to clean up. The guy noticed first that they were coming over, lightly pushing the girl in the shoulder.

The guy was all smiles, skinny with a pair of wireframe glasses. The woman was also skinny, but very tall, looking like a beanpole. The two of them told them about what they'd found, what they thought may have happened, and about the two victims.

Victim one was a young woman named Stacy Lamburdas. She lived not that far away, she was married, worked at a little restaurant, and had been the driver. She had been shot 4 times and did not survive.

Victim two was a young man named Darcy Monroe. He was one of the many people that Stacy had been having affairs with. He also lived not far away, working as a deliveryman for the post office. He had been shot 8 times. Miraculously he survived. 

Marissa was furiously scribbling into a notepad she had, taking down all the details she thought was important.

"It's funny isn't it?" the guy said, pushing his glasses up. Marissa raised an eyebrow in question, but she didn't look up.

"It's the 51st anniversary, and it's a complete carbon copy." Marissa now looked up, more confused, the woman seemed to notice.

"It's the 51st anniversary of the first killings of the Zodiac Killer, and this scene is very similar," Marissa stalled, his vision tunneling. The two Forensics kept talking, August keeping the conversation going, but Marissa wasn't paying attention.

This is why it was so familiar, why this all looked like something she knew.

The 51st anniversary huh?

Lord help them if this was a copy cat.

[spahhzy]

Ruby vs. The Department of Firearms and Explosives. Prt 2.

Loud Speaker: Now serving ticket number 12.

Ruby: *Looks at her ticket number she acquired from the Desk Clerk of the D.F.E.*

Runy: Finally Jaune let's go! *standing up triumphantly only to have Jaune grab her arm.

Jaune: Move you thumb from the ticket Rubes

Ruby: Huh? *Moves thumb that was covering the rest of the number to reveal ticket number 1271*

Ruby: I Really Hate The D.F.E

Ruby collapses in her chair as Jaune just put up his hoodie and closed his eyes. They were gonna be their awhile.

*3hours of waiting later*

Loud Speaker: Now serving Ticket # 1271

Ruby: Finally! Come vomit boy! The wait is over!

With renewed energy she got up from her chair with Jaune in tow and walked through the door...only to see another waiting area with a long line people that went from one corner of the room to the next before the line ended where she was.

Ruby astonished look back at the plague above the door which read 'Waiting Area #2* .

Ruby: Oum give me strength! *she thinks to herself before sighing and looking around only for something to catch her eye. A vending machine!

Ruby: Hold the fort down Jaune! *she runs off in a flurry of petals as Jaune just nods and waits for the line to move up listening to music on his scroll.

Ruby: *At the vending machine see's a 2 pack of chocolate chip cookies inside for 1 lien* Something to help with the waiting! *inserts the currency and enters the code before sticking her hand at the dispenser door waiting expectantly only for nothing to fall down.

Ruby: What...I press the right co- oh no * Looks up to see the cookies were stuck, the coil mechanism had jammed the cookies leaving them stuck at the edge, not enough to fall down.

Ruby puts her face to the glass whining and tears falling from her eyes.

Ruby: Let my poor treat go heathen! It's me you want they had nothing to do with this! *Shaking the machine a little but to no effort the cookies wouldn't budge.

Ruby: Even the vending machine from this hellish place is evil *Walks away sadly back to Jaune and her spot*

Suddenly a small child and her mother walked up past her to the vending machine which in turn said machine dropped the stuck batch of cookies unbeknownst to poor Ruby and the joy of the kid.

Jaune: You alright Rubes you look like someone stole the last batch of cookies on a saturday morning. *Ruby just put her head on Jaunes shoulder*

Ruby: This place is hell incarnate

Jaune: *chuckles* Eh look were almost their!* giving her a head pat as they waited in line.

*Beep! Beep! Beep!*

Ruby: hmm? *looking at her scroll to find it going off*

Ruby: Hi Yang, what- what do you mean their is a Grimm attack happening? Cinder? Beacon?

Ruby: I can't do anything right now Yang, I'm at the D.F.E , yes my poor Crescent Rose pretty much got impounded! *raising her hands in the air animatedly*

Ruby: Beacon's making me pay a fee! Yes a fee cause of the incident of YOU leaving Ember Celica around! Ye- oh you remember now!

Ruby: anywho my weapons license is expired and I gotta go get it fixed other wise i can't take it,Just stall Cinder for as long as possible the line is moving up now! Tell everyone to hang tight. *Hangs up the scroll as Jaune looks at her*

Jaune: Maybe this was Cinders plan all along? Get you here to this evil place while she goes on a tear throughout the school? *Ruby looks at him with narrowed eyes*

Ruby: No she's evil but not that evil... someone must have planned this. Someone who revels in making evil unneccessary diabolical plans.

*Far away in the grimm lands*

Salem: Creating the D.F.E is the best longterm evil plan I could come up with! *eating some popcorn and watching from her crystal ball The Rose and Arc suffer through the twisted machinations that was D.F.E. .

*back to the duo*

We find them both now taking the written exam for the Firearm License both seated next to each other as the proctor looks down the class room.

Jaune: Psst Ruby what's the difference between Single Action & Double Action?

Proctor: NO SHARING ANSWERS! *to which Jaune dropped his head to the desk*

Jaune: I don't even use a firearm!

30mins later.

Proctor: Alright Miss Rose you passed the written test with flying colors!

Ruby: Great can I have my new license now!

Proctor: ah ah, not yet you need to do the Live Weapons test now.

Ruby looks at the Proctor before looking at the tv monitor overhead reading 'Beacon under attack!' Before looking back to the proctor.

Ruby: Weapons test? Me? But....I gotta go save the world!

Proctor scoffing at her reasoning: I don't care if you were 80ft tall Miss Rose if I started making exceptions this whole place would fall apart!

Ruby just stared out into space thinking of what she could do if she was 80ft tall. The sound of a building being smashed to pieces before being shot multiple times by a sniper rifle filled her head before she laughed evilly only to have Jaune tap her on the shoulder.

Jaune: Were you daydreaming about destroying this place?

Ruby: why what ever do you mean! *innocent eyes stared at him as he chuckled before ruby turned back to the proctor*

Ruby: Alright let's do this dumb test.

Back at Beacon Team WBY & NPR were fighting for their lives.

Yang: what kind of villain attacks a school on a SATURDAY!?

Blake: The really evil ones keep firing!

Weiss: Where is Ruby!

Yang: She is at the D.F.E retaking her license test!

Cinder: *laughs evily at the mention of the D.F.E*

Yang: Was getting her to that hellscape part of your plan! You twisted bitch! No one likes to waste their Saturday at the D.F.E.!

Cinder: *Continues to laugh with more evil*

Nora: Why did Jaune go he doesn't even own a gun!

Cinder: *cackles maniacally*

Ren: Your evil knows no bounds! He was innocent damn you!

Grimm had begun surrounding them all threatening to overrun them before a large bang rang out through the air as a ursa major turned to dust.

Cinder turns to the cause of the sound and see's Ruby standing there aiming Crescent Rose at her head. few seconds later Jaune appears looking winded and tired.

Nora: Fearless Leader!

BWY: Ruby!

Ruby: Alright Cinder! You ruined my saturday, you made me waste 16 lien AND you made poor Jaune run 6 blocks.

Jaune: avenge me *collapses from exhaustion*

Ruby: It's go time!

*15 mins of POWs & Ows later*

Cinder: *cackles while hurt*

Ruby: Retreating!? Get back here!

Cinder: *creates a large flame wall before leaving the scene her evil snicker still lingering*

Ruby looks back to everyone before hugging Crescent Rose.

Ruby: Momma won't ever leave you around again, come on let's go make sure Daddy's alright.

*in the grimm lands looking through the crystal ball*

Salem: ah another successful unneccessary diabolical plan complete.

She takes out a pen and a notebook labeled 'unneccessary diabolical plans' before checking off 'Make Ruby Rose go to The D.F.E. on a Saturday'.

Salem: All in a days work.

We now resume our scheduled dose of gloomy times.

[danyka-fendyr]

Eight

Alright everyone, so this is just a little thing I made for @dreamwritesimagines writer’s block challenge. Because she is an absolute love, she let me write it about Matt Murdock rather than, say, literally any of the characters I was really supposed to write it about. I named it Eight because recently I’ve been getting a little into enneagrams because Sleeping at Last released an amazing album about them and I feel like Matt would be an 8. So many of the lyrics on track 8 describe Matt to me. It’s a bit short, but that’s because I still have homework to do, lol. I hope you guys like it! Dream was kind enough to let me use the prompts, “We’re not together, we’re bros- I’m gonna be his best woman at his wedding. “ and “You? You’re my superhero crush?” I love her brain, and I love her stories, so I feel very lucky to get to make this. Thanks so much Dream!

Warnings: None because for once in my life I’m not murdering anybody. Really just some pg-13 action type stuff.

Wordcount: 1864

I'm standing guard, I'm falling apart And all I want is to trust you Show me how to lay my sword down For long enough to let you through

-Sleeping at Last, Eight

Matt Murdock was undoubtedly a complicated man in every sense of the word. He usually looked like he had fallen asleep in an iron maiden, and not the band, he left at the most inconvenient times, and he slept with more women than one could reasonably count on both hands.

You were very unsure why you were friends with him. Frankly, it seemed like a terrible idea. You were definitely not the kind of person who found yourself friends with an insane person.

“I would disagree with that.” Matt interrupted you.

“Hey! I was trying to inner monologue.”

“Yeah, well, you were outer monologuing.”

“Not the first time.” You sighed, leaning forward on his couch to touch your toes.

“I can’t see what you’re doing but I can tell it’s dumb.”

“You’re so mean to me.” 

In spite of that, you sat back up, rolling over to lay your head in his lap. Matt didn’t have to think before sinking his hands into your hair, playing with it. You sighed, closing your eyes against the glow of the neon lights swimming across the walls of his otherwise dark apartment.

“You really have the worst view, you know that?”

You could hear Matt smile. “That’s not what you said the first time you saw it. You called it, ‘enchantingly urban,’ as I recall.”

“That was for your benefit. It’s crap.” You opened your eyes again so you could glare at him accusingly. 

“If it’s so bad then why do you crash on my couch so often?”

“Because my roommate, though I love her dearly, snores like Mr. Snuffleupagus if he was dying.”

“Big Bird’s got a gun,” Matt sing-songed.

“Was that even a thing when you were in school or is this just another result of the creepy amount of time you spend with children.”

“A. It is not creepy. I just happen to do a lot of pro bono work, and children just happen to usually be broke. B. I think you’re just asking that question because you’re trying to avoid the elephant in the room.”

“Wait, there’s an elephant in the room?” You sat up. “Matt, I think you’re seeing things. Oh wait...”

“That is really not as clever as you think it is.”

“Oh no, it is. And you love it.”

“Alright, you’ve got me there.”

“Seriously though. Is there an elephant in the room I just don’t know about? Because as far as I’m concerned we’re peachy.” You tucked your feet up under yourself, the material of Matt’s couch digging into your skin.

“The fact that you’ve been here, sleeping on my couch, almost every night this week.”

You frowned. “I thought you said you liked having me around.”

“I do. But having you around this much sometimes interferes with my...social life.”

“Oh, ew! Too much information, Matthew!” You recoiled, putting your hands over your ears.

You and Matt had been friends for roughly forever. Okay, so it hadn’t been that long. It had been a few years though. In the timeline of Significant Matt Life Events, you had met him pre-Karen Paige, post-Foggy Nelson. It had been a match made in heaven when you accidentally walked into him and he, with all the snark in the world, had asked you how you had managed to bump into him even though he was the blind one. He thought he was funny, but you weren’t as amused. Foggy asked you for your phone number, one bad date lead to a great friendship, and the rest was history.

“The elephant in the room is Foggy’s new girlfriend.”

“Um...I think she might take offense to that, Matt. Like, a lot of offense.”

If he looked about 2 inches to his left he would be glaring right at you.

“No seriously. I don’t get what you’re trying to get at here, Matty.”

“What I’m trying to say is that Foggy hasn’t dated anyone since you. I was just wondering...how you felt about that.”

It was at this point in time that you started dying laughing. It wasn’t really that funny, but in a way, it was. You? Heartbroken over Foggy Nelson, a man you had gone on one date with once, years ago? Unlikely. You said as much.

“Okay.” Matt sounded oddly relieved. “I just wanted to make sure. They asked us to dinner tomorrow night, but I was prepared to make excuses for you.”

“Ooooh, dinner? Sounds perfect!” You gave Matt your toothiest smile, even though he couldn’t see it.

“I’m not paying for you.”

You punched him in the arm. “Meanie.”

Dinner with Matt and Foggy’s new girlfriend was an interesting affair. Not because Foggy’s new girlfriend wasn’t nice. She was! She just also mistakenly assumed you were on a double date. You weren’t!

“So, Matt,” she started, taking a sip of her drink. “Enough about Foggy and I. How long have you and Y/N been dating?”

Matt looked more surprised than he probably should have given that they had been asked this question a few times.

 “Us? Dating. No.” Matt laughed. “I think you misunderstood. Y/N and I are just friends.”

“Yeah. We’re not together, we’re bros- I’m gonna be his best woman at his wedding. “

“Oh, I’m so sorry. You two just seemed so comfortable with each other, and...” She glanced down to where Matt’s jacket lay over your shoulders, your fingers intertwined over the table from where you sat on the opposite side of the booth in the cozy little Italian restaurant you knew was run by one of Matt’s old clients.

Now, listen. You know what it looked like. But there was a very simple explanation for all of this. You had gotten cold outside, Matt was a gentleman, your hands were also cold by proxy, you liked hand-holding, you liked Matt- Okay. So you liked Matt. Was that a crime?

That being said, it was none of anybody’s business.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Truth is, I’m already taken,” you said.

“Oh?” She seemed very surprised by that.

“Yeah. Daredevil has my heart. I love me a vigilante with a good butt.”

Foggy snorted. He was always very very amused by your innocent crush on Daredevil. You could never tell why, but you just assumed it was because he had a great sense of humor, even though he was rarely so entertained by your other jokes.

“You could say he’s a handsome devil,” Foggy chimed in.

“Ha! That’s a good one.” You grinned.

The night carried on in much the same way, though Foggy’s date seemed a little perplexed by the dynamic between you and Matt. You were pretty sure that at some point she went back to assuming you two were dating just because it was easier for her to handle. You couldn’t blame the poor girl. Even you got confused sometimes by the fact that you were not-dating Matthew Murdock. Matt liked to keep things confusing.

By the time you stumbled back to Matt’s apartment, you could barely keep your eyes open. You were a night owl, admittedly, but a night out on the town always left you feeling drained. Accordingly, Matt agreed to let you stay on his couch again. You could have loved him for that alone.

“Matt?” Your voice was quiet, hesitant as his keys jangled in the lock.

“Yes?” He opened the door, leading the two of you inside.

There is silence for a moment as you two shuffle your way inside, Matt’s cane tapping against the floor out of reflex. Your hands are still intertwined, and you don’t know how to say what you want to say next. You’re not even sure if you should say it.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Is something wrong?”

You take a shaky breath, stepping away from him and letting go of his hand. You can’t look at him right now, but that doesn’t really matter since he can’t tell the difference. You stare out his window instead, watching the neon signs buzz into the night.

“What would you say...if I told you I was a little bit in love with you?”

He doesn’t say anything, which in your mind is answer enough. Contrary to popular belief, you can actually take a hint. The message from Matt is loud and clear, ironic given all the silence surrounding you.

“I would say I’m glad I’m not the only one because I’m a little bit in love with you too.”

“You are?” You pivot to face him, eyes wide.

“Yes. I never wanted to say anything though, because I always thought you were still a little hung up over Foggy and...I don’t know. I date a lot of women and I didn’t want you to think you were just some passing phase or a replacement for someone or anything like that. I guess I just-”

You cut him off. You know it’s rude, but you can’t yourself. With greedy hands, you grab his face and press his mouth to your own.

Kissing Matt is a very physical experience. With him being blind, it’s like he’s trying to soak up as much of you as he can. Matt has all the prowess kissing you you would expect from a man with his experience, and it takes your breath away. His mouth moves against your own with an intensity you couldn’t have predicted, one hand tangling in your head. You feel his cane fall to the floor when the other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, skin on skin.

When you pull away, you can barely breathe, barely think. It is a rush to kiss Matt, and suddenly you have an idea of how he gets women into bed with him so easy. You would probably do anything he asked you to right now.

“I...If we’re going to do this, I have to tell you something,” he said.

“Yes. Anything.” Your eyes are still a little glassy.

“I’m the Daredevil.” He says it all in one go, spits it right out like he’s ripping off a band-aid.

There is a beat.

“You’re the what now?”

“I’m the-”

“No I heard you.” You pull yourself out of his arms, taking a step back in surprise. “You....You? You’re my superhero crush?”

“Yeah...sorry about that. I would have told you sooner, but I was afraid you would get hurt if you knew, but if we’re going to do this for real you have to know. I don’t want someone coming after you and having you be unprepared and-”

“Oh my gosh is that why Foggy thought all of my Daredevil comments were so funny?” You screeched.

“Yes, probably, but I don’t think you’re listening to me right now-”

“I can’t believe this! I just totally made out with my superhero crush. You felt me up!”

Matt sighed. At a certain point, he always realized he was never going to get through to you.

“Want to do it again?” He offered.

“Heck yeah!”

So you did. And that’s the story of how you somehow ended up dating your superhero crush. Who knew? Dreams really do come true.

[bishie-haven]

CecilCelebration, October 6: A Super Rare Snap!

Hi, Princesses and Princes!

This post...isn’t about what I was expecting to cover today. I was working on Day 6′s original topic to play catchup, however due to the wonderful technology we rely on, the file of the post’s content was corrupted, losing EVERYTHING. I’m legitimately crying right now, but I know that I need to keep moving. So, to make up for it, I’m moving two shorter posts up in my schedule so that we can actually make it to Day 7 ON Day 7!

So, what’s the new topic? We’re moving from 2011 to 2017, right into the era of Shining Live!

What’s the thing that people think of most when they hear about this tappy tap game? The songs? Nah. The beatmaps? Not really. The events? In some cases, yes, but not much other than that.

The big draw of the game? The cards you use to play!

And when there are multiple photos of lovable characters, you know what that means~

Ranking lists!

Yep, I’ve taken all the available photos of our prince, and I’m going to be revealing my Top 7 of his SRs and URs! Why Top 7? Because when Cecil became a full-fledged member of STARISH, he changed the number of rainbow colored boys from six lovable characters to seven!

This post will cover the Top 7 SRs, while the next will cover the URs. So, let’s get started!

#7: Shining Sports Day

While the outfit is pretty basic (white shirt, black sport shorts, jacket of team color), what really got it for me was the poses. In the Normal shot, Cecil’s parading around with megaphones, looking like he’s ready to cheer his own team on (cheerleader set KLab PLZ). And in the Special shot? Poor boy can’t handle the spice in the bread, it’s so CUTE! Get this guy some milk!

#6: Holy Night Santa Claus (Christmas V2)

I’m very soft for this Christmas set from last year, and Cecil’s card is no exception. Considering that (fun fact!) he never celebrated the holiday in his country and only started understanding it once he became an idol, seeing how caring he is about spreading the joy of it to children just warms my heart. The sweet expression he has while filling the stocking gets to me every time. ^^

#5: Marine Festival

I’m a sucker for sailor suits. Marine sets are one of my weaknesses. I just recently got the UR Otoya from this set, one of my dream cards. 

But back to Cecil. It seems weird that he would be a part of this, as the boy hates water along with the fishies, but this look fits him really well! And him with the bright green water gun? COME TO ME, BABY!

(But his side story...honey, I need to teach you the meaning of “double entendre”...)

#4: Odorokiman

MAN THIS SET WAS FOR HIM. I know this look is based off a planet people like to make puns out of, but this look is perfect for what we hear about in terms of his heritage and his magic abilities. The gloves and the cat head staff are two of my favorite touches~ (Also, have you seen him on your home screen?

The ribbons are HUGE!!!)

#3: Magical Halloween Live Show (Halloween V1)

I said that marine sets were a big weakness of mine? Well Halloween sets are an even bigger one. And aside from one or two cards in this set, this is my favorite out of the OG designs. Cecil being a witch wizard is just spot on, and the fact that he openly gets to use his magic in the Special shot is just beautiful! And the expressions...in the Special shot, I know that’s he’s showing off the petals he’s conjured up, but I bust out laughing because the way the card is framed with his eyes just screams to me,

“Look at this big stick I have!”

#2: New Year’s Feast: Happiness and Prosperity (New Years V2)

THIS is peak adorable levels for the prince, FIGHT ME. Cecil is known to love aspects of Japanese culture and explore new things relating to it. So to see him decked out in a kimono playing a good ol’ game of karuta (played it myself, really fun game, really helps while learning the language) is just great. 

And BOTH expressions on his face. They. Are. PRECIOUS. 

I want to squeeze him in a hug so BAD!!

#1: Happy Hearts♡My Dear Doctor

Now some of you may be wondering: “If I love the last one so much, why is THIS event card your #1 SR?” Well, mainly because...this card means a lot to me. For a few reasons:

This card was part of the first event that I ever attempted to tier on. I had gotten enough to get URs via points, but never enough to get past ranks that would just get you an extra SR. During the entire week of March this event was on, I was in uncharted territory trying my HARDEST to stay high. In the end, I had gotten #288 on the charts, enough to stay in Tier 2 and get a near max copy of the UR and a FULL copy of this SR. And to this day it remains my ONLY event card that I have maxed and crowned.

As much as I love music and the arts, I’m currently in my second year of college studying to get into dental school. And for me, when media that I love combines with something that I’m striving for in real life, it hits me right in the kokoro. As such, I love medical/dental themes. TO DEATH. I kid you not, at 5 in the morning, when I was getting ready for a 7:30 lab, I seen the first announcement of this event and I felt like my heart was going to lift out of my chest. And I know that they push the fact that Cecil is a nurse in this, I get it. But with the products they try to sell, the scrubs, and the background of that Special shot, I see him as a dental hygienist to the end. I DARE YOU, FIGHT ME.

The overall card is FLAT OUT CUTE. The boy’s arms are overflowing in the Normal shot, just wanting to share the love he’s promoting to his friends. And the Special shot? MY WORD. That gorgeous smile on his face while he’s clinging onto a huge tube of toothpaste? I love it. I just love it.

So, those were my Top 7 Cecil SRs! Stay tuned for my Top 7 URs in just a little bit!

See you later, Princesses and Princes!

[i4z-0892-il]

Monster House 3

Summary: Posing as Newlyweds Sam and Y/n set out to investigate what’s killing the visitors of a secluded Inn, and attempt to keep their working relationship professional.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word count: 6100 Oops, my keyboard slipped

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, suggestive themes, language

A/N:  TROPES. 

Buy Sam’s Scent Here from @scentsfromthebunker (And damn does it smell goooooood)

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Masterlist stays updated with each new chapter.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

After following the main trail for nearly half a mile it was quickly decided that the most effective course of action would be to get off the path. Neither of you were exactly sure what you were looking for, but you could both agree that whatever it was you weren’t going to find it sitting like a silver platter on a main path. However, actually stepping off of it and wandering aimlessly through the dense forest surrounding you was another matter. There shouldn’t have been a reason to worry, after all you were in the company of Sam Winchester, one of the deadliest hunters alive. If anyone should have been worried it should be whatever you were hunting. Even still the chill that slid up your spine earlier never really faded away.

Realistically that unsettled feeling could have been a number of things. You were nervous. Even though you wanted to find the thing that was snatching bodies, you also really didn’t want to find the thing that was snatching bodies. The classic double-edged sword! If you find it you could stop it and kill it, or it could stop and kill you- always a gamble. And you did not like that shit at all. Dense wilderness also put you on edge, but that was from growing up in West Virginia where there was more forest than not, and from knowing exactly what was out there.

Certain parts of the wild should not be visited. Of that you were sure, beyond shadow of a doubt.

Since you could remember you were told to stay away from specific parts of the forests surrounding the tiny town tucked in the mountains where you grew up in. Everyone knew. No one talked about it, but everyone knew. The Wilderness to the North-West was home to something far older and more dangerous than any gun in that town.

There were rules everyone knew to abide by. And only the very stupid or very foolish chose not to listen.

Don’t go into the woods at night.

Never give out your real name- or anyone’s.

If you feel you’re being watched stay calm and get out without a fuss.

Take nothing from the forest because it will want it back.

When you see the fog, leave.

Don’t listen to the whispers, ignore the strange knockings.

Close the doors and windows, and don’t look outside.

If something is following you don’t ever turn around.

In your youth you were both stupid and foolish.

The rules your father tried to drill into your thick skull never stopped you from playing in the forbidden woods. When you were little you’d run through those trees like it was your own personal playground, it was magical and enchanted and it was all yours. Everywhere you stepped in those woods was warm and inviting, like a little bubble of safety all around you. You talked to the trees, and though they never talked back you felt loved and safe.

Until you got older. Sometimes it was inviting like it was when you were just a kid, other times it was warning you to stay away.

It was September and you were fifteen when it happened- when it turned on you. Walking home from school you cut through the trees. You knew that forest like the back of your hand and the idea of shaving nearly twenty minutes off of your walk was just a little too tempting. It was still warm, and everything was golden with that afternoon hue, just before the sun starts to set, and you weren’t afraid. You were just over half way home when the shift happened. That sudden change in the air that made you stop, body frozen on the spot. The air around you dropping to a temperature so cold you could see the puffs of air coming from your mouth. Everything darkened like the sun had disappeared, but dusk wasn’t for another two hours, and it seemed like the treetops had closed the holes in the canopy trapping you and claustrophobic.

Something felt wrong, terribly, terribly wrong.

Heeding the words of your father you forced your legs to move, to carry on your way. Don’t run, don’t panic, don’t be afraid. So you kept your head down, looked straight ahead, and kept going. It wasn’t long before you felt like you weren’t the only one in the woods. And up slithered that cold, creeping hand of fear gripping the back of your neck at the base of your skull, wrapping around your chest like a spider-web making your whole body vibrate in alarm. Your pace sped up as you tried to keep your breath from shaking; as you tried to keep the panic and dread that filled you from your head to your toes at bay.

The thudding of your heart all but stopped when you glanced up and realized you had no idea where you were. It was like you had run straight into a wall of Evergreen or the trees had uprooted themselves and moved just to throw you off. You knew those woods, there was no way you could have gotten lost on a path you had walked more than a thousand times.Yet there you were, standing somewhere that seemed foreign and hostile. Swallowing down the blooming anxiety stuck in your throat you willed yourself to keep moving remembering not to stay still for too long.

Thick rolling fog slid in along the sides of your vision appearing from nowhere and suddenly everywhere. It reached for you with wispy smoke-like tendrils threatening to snag your ankles if you weren’t quick enough. It whispered your name, your name which you had so ignorantly given in your youth. Your heart raced in your chest, blood pumping furiously with adrenaline. Lungs sucked in short, sharp shocks of air as you tried to remain calm to the best of your ability, but you were only holding on by a thread.

When you felt eyes on you it was your undoing. Overcome with dread and fright you took off as fast as your feet could carry you. And the wilderness did not like that. Tearing through the trees they tried to reach out with sharp branches snagging your clothes, and slicing fine lines in your face. But you didn’t slow down, you couldn’t slow down.

It was coming.

It was gaining on you.

The Thing in the Woods.

Your heavy backpack full of school books, binders and papers slowed you down. Without second thought you dropped the dead weight, praying to God or whatever was out there that you made it out alive.

The forest moved, uplifting a root and grabbing your foot taking you to the ground tearing holes in the knees of your jeans, scraping up your hands and splitting your cheek open on a rock beneath you. It didn’t give you pause though, in full flight or fight mode you scrambled to your feet kicking up a flurry of dead leaves as you did. The snapping of branches and footsteps behind you dropped your heart into the pit of your stomach, your nervous system short circuiting as every fiber of your being turned to stone.

Everything fell deathly silent, no rustling of leaves, no wind, no birds or insects. Just the sound of blood pumping in your ears and your ragged breath coming out in wisps of cold mist.

Every limb trembled, quaking with terror as you did what you could to swallow down your panic and turn your head in slow trepidation knowing you had broken nearly every cardinal rule. Dragging your eyes along the forest floor you turned them up and a silent scream caught in your throat.

“Hey, Earth to Y/n-” Sam said waving a hand in front of your face, snapping you from your trance. Like a deer in the headlights your attention was on him, he was looking at you curious and concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” You answered shrugging off your discomfort. Shifting your weight from foot to foot, flustered under the scrutiny of his unsatisfied gaze, you turned your eyes anywhere but his face. Those damn hazel eyes would be the end of you, and you couldn’t stand him staring at you like he genuinely cared for too long. Only after you took a long look around did you realize that you had no idea where you were or for how long you’d been following behind Sam. You blamed it on the woods, they played tricks and you hadn’t been much of a hiker since your youth.

“So I think I saw a house or something just up ahead.” He continued, dropping the fact that you were so very obviously not good. That you hadn’t cracked a joke or made a comment you surely thought was witty for nearly fifteen minutes was clue enough but the spaced out, thousand yard stare plastered on your face sealed the deal. He wasn’t one to push, and you weren’t one to tell, you’d come around when and if you were ready. Even still it was a look he hadn’t seen before.

“Okay, lets go do a B and E.” You agreed with a clap before sweeping your arms to the side in a grand gesture. “After you good Sir.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head walking past you with an eye roll.

“You better be careful rolling them things that hard Sam.” You warned as you followed behind him. He turned his head, confusion creasing his brow. “You’re gonna roll ‘em so far into your head they’ll get stuck like that.”

That pulled a laugh from him, and those dimples you loved so much. You always liked to see him smile, and his laugh seemed to happen so rarely. So when he did it was like looking at the sun, radiant and warm, bringing life to all things.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he saw a house. Although “house” was a rather gracious term for what it was. It looked more like an old hunting cabin that had seen better days, held together by antique nails and the grace of god.

“Wow, this place is a dump.” You said stepping around him and into the small clearing to take in the sight fully, the fact that it was still standing on its own was impressive.

“Really? You don’t want to honeymoon here?” Sam asked as he dropped the strap of his backpack to his hand and knelt to unzip it. You stood with your hands at your hips studying the building that would surely crumble if someone looked at it the wrong way. After a short pause you turned your attention back to him.

“I thought about it, and no. I do not want to honeymoon here. As much fun as tetanus is- I think I’d rather not.” You stated. The corner of his lips pulled up as he grinned at you while extending a handful of silver bullets and a holster. He and Dean might have been content with tucking a loaded gun in the waistband of their jeans- but you were not. You knew how getting shot felt and you were not exactly the most graceful person on the planet either. The combination of the two was a recipe for disaster, and you were not trying to shoot yourself in the ass. It was a nice ass, you had full intention on keeping it that way. Strapping the holster around your thigh and snagging a silver blade from his small arsenal almost instantly made you feel better. Sam geared up and slung the bag over his shoulder again before standing and sweeping hair from his face.

“I don’t know. Clean it up a little, could be nice.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

“Yout sure? Hang some curtains over the boarded up windows there,” he said pointing to different areas on the house. “A porch swing there. And one of those little welcome mat’s that says ‘Leave’ at the door.”

Hand over your heart you turned charmed eyes up to him, sighing dreamily. “You’re right, it’s like a dream.”

“I knew you’d come around.”

“Oh, yeah Sam, let's build a summer home out of the cabin that’s at the epicenter of every single 80’s horror movie.” You snarked, nudging his arm with your elbow. “Maybe if we’re lucky a portal to hell will open in the basement on nights when the stars align.”

“You know that is exactly how lucky we are.” Sam stated with another laugh, and it cured your depression, acne, and alcoholism all at once.

“Alright, call the realtor. Make ‘em an offer they can’t refuse.”

From about a hundred feet back the place certainly looked abandoned enough. Boards covered nearly every window, most of which were missing entire panes of glass either broken in or fallen out. And it was in serious need of a new paint job, and probably an exterminator- there was no way termites hadn’t taken up residence. Thinking about bugs slowly eating away the foundation of an entire house might not have been the best way to calm your nerves, but it was a better alternative to what you were most assuredly going to find.

The heavy duty padlock and iron chain around the front door did nothing but confirm your suspicions. It was never as easy an explanation as say- a tool shed! No. It was never a fucking tool shed. It was always a house of horrors. Body parts stuffed into jars. Body parts sans the jars. Always body parts. You should have picked a better- less morbid profession.

“Think you can crack it?” You asked, obviously he could. It was dumb to even ask, but Sam gave pause to ponder anyway. He scanned the area, then back to the lock, weighing options.

“Maybe. You go left, I’ll go right, see if we can find a more subtle way in.” He answered finally. Nodding in agreement you walked along the wall looking for a point of access that wouldn’t be so obvious that someone had gone inside. Because that’s exactly what you needed, pick the lock, go in, monster-person-thing comes back to find the chain missing right off the front door. Good point Sam.

More boarded up windows, and fragile wall you might have been able to put a fist clean through if you were curious enough. And jesus fuck if you were not curious. Putting a hand on the wall you gave a little push, and there was enough give that it only granted credibility to your theory, and a little more excitement than maybe was healthy. But who didn’t want to just full on kick in a fucking wall? Crazy people. That’s who. Though that would have been arguably way less subtle than just cracking open the padlock. The argument being the cabin was falling apart anyway. The human foot sized hole would have been slightly more difficult to explain, so you tucked the urge away in the back of your mind. Begrudgingly.

Carrying on you reached a cellar door, and a set of tiny windows lining the bottom of the cabin, one of them was busted nearly completely open. Yahtzee. With a quick chirping whistle you drew Sam’s attention who rounded the corner of the house to meet you. A casual toss of your head to the side let his eyes trail to the window you were looking at.

“There’s no way I’ll fit in that, I’m way too big.” He commented without missing a beat. You snorted a laugh, biting the inside of your lips into a flat line, closing your eyes and shaking your head. How many times had he said that in his life? When you regained more control of your face and opened your eyes again he was looking at you with that perfected bitch-face, which while oh-so-judgy was still pretty damn hot. You shrugged, proclaiming your innocence.

“What? I didn’t say anything!”

He didn’t have to respond, it was clear as day what you were thinking. He moved to the cellar doors, like a normal thinking person and pulled to no avail.

“Guess it’s locked from the inside there Buckaroo.” You said peering over his shoulder, his eyes cut to you, there was that bitch-face again. With a huff he stood upright, you always liked standing close enough to him to really let his height sink in. Sam always made you feel so tiny and small, and little, like his huge frame could just swallow you whole. Not that you ever spent entirely too much time thinking about how easily he could crush you in his toned, muscular, perfectly sunkissed arms or anything. Or how he could lift you off your feet and over his head like you weighed absolutely nothing. Focus!

The cellar doors wouldn’t open which meant your plan was the most viable one on the table. And if Sam couldn’t fit through that little window it left one option. You were going to have to do it. A shudder of distaste and resentment snaked up your back. You were going to have to crawl through some busted ass window, in some creepy ass basement of a creepy ass cabin in the middle of some creepy ass woods. And god only knew what you might find inside- human jars, jars made from humans, blood paint. Eyeball soup. Buffalo Bill. Who the fuck knew. Suddenly your plan seemed a lot less fun than it did a minute ago.

“Okay, welp. Guess I’m going in.” You said shaking the jitters out of your body through your hands. Sam would never tell you that he enjoyed watching you screw your courage to the sticking place, but it was absolutely entertaining. You were kind of like a kid in a play getting ready to go deliver a monologue at the crux of the plot, who had stage fright and were bouncing up and down offstage with nervous energy. He had to hand it to you, you never backed down, and there was no denying he admired your bravery. In another life you probably would have been a Teacher or Optometrist, or some kind of niche artist. Definitely something softer, much less gritty and gory. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself, he had no doubts about you and your iron will. But if the life hadn’t found you and made the decision for you, he simply couldn’t see you as the dirt-under-the-fingernails, willingly-crawling-into-a-dingy-hole-towards-almost-certain-peril kind of gal. The sarcasm and your unabashed weirdness though? That would stay. No matter what life you wound up in, most assuredly, those two staples of you would remain. He wouldn’t have you any other way though, he loved your odd sense of humor, and eccentricities.

Crouching at the window you tilted your head at a near painful angle trying to get a better view of what you were getting yourself in to. Without asking Sam handed you a flashlight, tucking it into your hand unannounced bringing your eyes to scan him over quizzically.

“Where were you hiding that?” You certainly hadn’t seen it earlier.

“Backpack?”

“Boy scout.” You teased, because of course he would have packed for everything, he probably had a compass tucked away in there somewhere too. Sam rolled his eyes, a dimple creasing his cheek as he turned his attention back to the window.

No obvious dead bodies, so that was a plus. After shining the light around you set your mind in stone and handed it back to him so you could shimmy in through the narrow pane. There was a pretty steep drop from the window to the floor in the basement so you laid on your back, squeezing your head and shoulders through first, giving yourself a chance to grab a long wooden beam above you to hold onto for leverage, and so you didn’t drop like a rock to the floor. With a final huff you pulled the rest of your body through the open window, acutely aware of the sharp pieces of jagged glass that jabbed you with every movement. Don’t think about the spider web you just stuck your hand in. Or the other creepy crawlies lurking in the shadows just waiting to scurry over your fingers or up the leg of your jeans. And do not think about the inevitable squishing sound the floor is going to make when you step into a pile of human organs. Once in your dropped your hold and landed on your feet, kicking up a thousand years worth of dust as you did. With a hacking cough and a wave of your hand you brushed the dirt out of your face to little avail.

“Anything interesting?” Sam asked from the window, shining the flashlight directly in your eyes. Scrunching up your face you tried to block it with your hand.

“I don’t know Sam. I’m blind now, so it’s a little hard to tell.”

“Right.” He realized and reached an arm through the window handing off the light to you. Shining it around you were pleasantly surprised to find it more or less empty. Old dusty shelves lined the walls full of boxes, and tools. No mason jars full of eyeballs. Yet. Lighting up the doors to the cellar from your side you were relieved that it was just barricaded by a simple wooden beam.

Setting the light on a shelf, aiming it at the doors you went and freed the plank of wood from its slot. Sam pulled the doors open from the other side, and closed them silently behind him, taking a moment to replace the wooden board, ever careful to cover his tracks.

“Mind the dust.” You said, grabbing the flashlight from its perch. “Hey, Sam.” The second you gained his attention you flashed the beam of light in his face. “See anything?”

“Ha, ha. I get it.” He snarked snatching the torch from you hand as you stifled a giggle.

Following his lead you continued to search the basement, turning up bupkis. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a bunch of old shit that no one had probably used since the Inn was built. Save for the nice little stash of Moonshine tucked under one of the shelves.

“Yeehaw.” You said popping open the lid to the mason jar and taking a whiff, quickly turning into a sputtered cough as your eyes and throat immediately started to burn. “Good god, you could strip paint with this.”

“Yeah? Go ahead and try it, tell me what gasoline tastes like.” Sam replied with a chuckle.

“I’m not gonna drink it. You drink it.”

“No way.”

“I’ll give you five bucks if you drink it.” You insisted, there was that perfect bitch-face again.

“You’d don’t have five bucks.”

“Wow, rude. You don’t have to rub it in.” You said with a pout, screwing the lid back on the jar and tucking it back into it’s spot. Once the basement was clear you headed upstairs which was unsettling. Nothing but ratty old furnishings, more than apparent that a family had in fact lived there, but just up and left one day. Antique dolls on an old rickety shelf, children’s toys on the floor, deer heads mounted on the walls. There were still untouched plates sitting on the side table, and a book left open for place keeping. Easily the most alarming thing was the back corner which had a mess of iron chains and cuffs, and a few giant meat hooks hanging.

“Still wanna turn this place into a summer home?” He asked, the light glinting off the iron chains.

“Just remember my safeword.” You quipped, biting back a gag from the rancid smell coming from what you could only assume was at one point a kitchen. A large black mass situated in the center of the floor where the odor was coming from caught your attention, forming a pit in your stomach, and you grabbed Sam by the wrist directing the light to where you needed it.

A voice from outside distracted you from making out the shape in the floor, someone was outside. Sam cut out the light, which helped neither of you to figure out where to go from there. Hand on the grip of your gun at your thigh you waited for the inevitable stand-off as the chain on the outside of the front door rattled, lock falling away. Sam’s large hands covered your mouth and snaked around your waist as he pulled you backwards and into the crawl-space beneath the staircase. With a free hand you hooked your fingers around the frame of the slatted closet door and pulled it closed silently.

The storage area he pulled you into had to be the world’s tiniest storage space, if it were just you in there it might have been fine. But with Sam’s huge form crowding what little space was available it was awkward to say the least. The sharp incline of the stairs had his broad shoulders pressed against the flat of the ceiling, and the rest of him hunched over you practically bending you in half backwards. One hand pressed against the wall above your head, and legs at a crooked and unstable angle below you you were banking on him to keep you upright. With his arm tucked firmly at your back and his other arm outstretched to keep himself steady, hand flat against the wall behind your head it was all he could do to fit into the space with you. You were flexible enough, generally speaking, but you were not a contortionist and the Cirque du Soleil act he just crammed you into was… less than comfortable.

The front door opened and you could no longer lament about your tight quarters.

“No, I heard you.” Came a man’s voice, you tugged a finger on the slats of the door trying your damndest to sneak a peek through them, which was near impossible with Sam’s forearm against your jaw. Not that you minded so much, he was warm, and he smelled so nice it was distracting, like coffee, and vanilla, and cinnamon. He held you flush against him in a hard line down the length of his chest and abdomen, tucked between his solid thighs. Made you all tingly in the nether region, but there was no time for you to focus on his firm he was. Or the feel of his breath hot against your neck forming goosebumps on your skin. Or how the long strands of his hair tickled your cheek, and how you’d always wanted to know how soft it would feel knotted in your fingers. Or how hard your heart was pounding in your chest a little too excited to be so close to him.

“I said I heard you. It’ll be taken care of.” The Man said again, irritated. It was so dark in the cabin you couldn’t make out a thing, and you were trusting your instincts to tell you relatively where he was based on where his voice was coming from. “You just worry about your damn self, and let me do my fucking job. Or you can deal with it, but something tells me you don’t like getting your hands dirty...Yeah. That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Then there was silence, followed by a series of footsteps, heavy boots, going from the spot in the center of the room towards the kitchen. The sounds of rustling plastic, and a slow choppy drag of something weighty across the floor.

Your arm above your head was starting to cramp, and the way he had you bent backwards was already painful. Bracing yourself against the wall you twisted your body until your back was flush against his chest, careful to remain as silent as you could. Sam shifted to try to give you some room but, the poor man had nowhere to go. Under different circumstances he would not have minded your ass pressing against him in all the right places. But this was neither the time nor the place to get caught up in the scent of your shampoo, or the soft curves of your body moving against the hard lines of his. You shifted again, just trying to get a better view of what little there was to be seen through the slats in the door, but the friction of your movements was impossible to ignore. One large hand splayed out flat, low on your stomach between your hip bones keeping you still enough for him to keep his mind focused on anything other than the growing tension pooling in his core.

The feel of his hand sitting dangerously low over your jeans made heat bloom in your cheeks and elsewhere and at the moment you were grateful for the pitch black. The front door creaked open and the rustling plastic stopped long enough for it to shut again and be replaced by the sound of jingling chains and a padlock being reattached. Waiting until you were in the clear enough to make an exit from the tiny crawl-space was seemed to take forever, but at the same time it wasn’t like you were in much of a huge rush to move. After all you were a little more than content to stay exactly where you were. Sam let out a sigh, his forehead dropping to rest against the back of your neck, his warm breath sending a tingle down your spine.

“See anything?” His tone low and smooth, as if he was unbothered by the cramped quarters.

“Nothing.” There was no hiding your disappointment. The conversation you’d overheard was certainly of interest however. Pushing the door open you slipped out of the crawl-space. The drag of his long fingers over the bare skin peeking between the rise of your jeans and hem of your t-shirt sending sparks of electricity directly to your center. Sam stepped out behind you, having to adjust himself in his jeans, he could think more about the feel of holding you that close later, and he would be.

The flashlight clicked on and both of you moved directly to the kitchen which yielded- nothing.

Swatting your hands against your thighs in frustration you let out an irritated groan. The sink was backed up with blackwater, and the floor was mushy from water damage sourced from a hole in the ceiling. But there were no body parts. The lack thereof was starting to bother you, which was not a feeling you’d thought to anticipate. No one wanted to find human remains, but more than anything you just wanted to find some fucking human remains! Gank the bad guy, stop the killings, go home, take a hot bath and boom. You would be on your way to Netflix and sleep. But no! Of course it wasn’t that simple.

Upstairs was equally unfruitful. Although an unmade and dingy bed, along with some foul smelling clothes was more proof than needed that someone was living there still. Your money was on the guy you’d just heard downstairs.

The only problem left was how to get back out of the house without letting it be known they had been there. Someone would have to put the wooden board back in the cellar door-you. But you also weren’t quite tall enough to climb back through the window in the basement. There was, however, a wide open window in the bedroom, and Sam beat you to it.

“Ever thought about jumping out a window?”

“You read my mind.” You answered unenthusiastically. He pressed his forearm against the frame gauging just how far down the drop would be, deciding it was plenty safe. But you did not agree. “You’re kidding right?”

“It’s not that far.” He justified, but you were not having it. A twenty foot drop might not have seemed like much for him, but that extra foot he had on you made a hell of a difference. Not to mention the fact that he was a large wall of solid muscle, while you were small, soft and had squishy insides.

“Okay, sure- for you maybe, Gigantor. I jump down there I’m looking at a broken leg, or worse.”

“You’re not going to break your leg.” Sam reassured you, but the flat and unamused expression on your face was not something he’d be able to cut through that easily. A large hand slid along your jawline, warm and comforting. “I’ll catch you.”

You could have melted into a puddle on the spot. It really wouldn’t have taken anything more than a slight breeze to make your knees crumple beneath you. The genuine sweetness in his eyes made you forget how to breathe. Trying to get a handle on yourself, unless you drowned in those kaleidoscope eyes you scoffed. “Yeah right.”

“I promise.” He said, gaze intense and confident. Beyond shadow of a doubt you trusted him, you were sure you were also going to regret it, but you were about to find out.

“Okay.” You agreed, a little baffled that you were just going to jump out a window and trust him to break your fall. He turned to go out first, but you grabbed his arm, bringing his attention back to you, all nerves again. “Sam. You drop me and I swear once I’m out of the hospital you’re in for a world of hurt.”

Sam flashed you a dimpled smile and dropped out the window, landing on his feet, making it look easy. Of course, he always made it look easy. He was graceful and agile, like a cat. You on the other hand- not so much. You sucked in a breath and leaned out the window waiting for him to ready himself. It wasn’t the first window you’d jumped out of, not by a long shot. But any other time you were escaping with zero hesitation about what was on the other side, no time to think about it. Quick thinking jump, or die, so there was little room to question the best alternative. But you kind of just wanted to try to boost yourself through the window in the basement right about then.

“This is so stupid.” You hushed, rocking on your heels. He turned up to you, arms outstretched. Sucking in a breath you hoped you aimed right, and stepped out the window, slamming your eyes shut and bracing yourself for impact.

Impact came but it wasn’t you busting your ass on solid ground. Sam made good on his word and caught you, but you had a little thing called momentum and just kept going, practically tackling him to the floor below. He hit the dirt on his back, his arms wrapped firm around you. Eyes wide you sat up immediately, waiting for the inevitable ‘Oh god, I think you broke my rib!’ to come but he just laid out for a moment, and brought two thumbs up, head tipped back to catch the breath you surely knocked out of him.

“Hey, this was your idea.” You defended. He nodded with an exasperated grin, hands falling to rest high on your thighs where you straddled his waist. It didn’t take but a split second for you to relish the position you’d found yourself in, and took only another split second more for the wave of embarrassment to flood, as you scrambled to your feet. Not that you wouldn’t have minded staying perched on his hips a little longer, or much longer. But it was Sam, and you already shouldn’t have been thinking about him like that, and you were also a professional with a job to do, which meant you didn’t have time to wrap your brain in fantasies. No matter how mouth-wateringly tantalizing they were.

He took your outstretched hand to help him to his feet, and dusted off the foliage he picked up. When you turned away to look at your surroundings he took a moment to adjust himself once again. That was twice now he’d had you exactly where he’d wanted you, at exactly the wrong times.

Heavy fog began to roll in through the trees, and with it that sickening cold chill rolled up your spine, and you found yourself edging just a little closer to him.

“It’ll be dark soon. We should get back to the Inn.” You suggested, but it was more of a warning. The woods were telling you to get out, and you weren’t one to ignore the signs anymore.

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[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Future Looks Good

Ben Barnes x Female Reader

A/N: This week has been really tough on me. I’m bloody submerged with clients’ requests, journalists’ requests, and on top of that everybody seems to think I’ve got a magical solution to all of their problems...  Whatever. All of that to tell @benbarnesescape that i’ve only survived all this shit because I kept reading her Ben Barnes’ stories every night before I went to sleep. Thank you for the inspiration, darling, because I’ve been dealing with some serious writer’s block lately... Go check out her works, you won’t regret it! 

Word count : 1417

Warnings : none

God I’m such a sucker for that Billy Russo look. Goddamn. 

Ben friggin Barnes. Was he ever going to stop leaving you speechless everytime you thought it was a good idea to watch a movie he starred in? In your defense, you’d only seen two : and that’s because you weren’t given much of a choice. As much as you would rather go grab a couple of Spritz’es with your friends on Friday night, movie premiers were an obligation. Especially when your face – and body – took 80% of all the screening time.

Your apartment was glowing on the inside, Annick Goutal candles emanating warmth and woodish smell. Here and there you could spot a pillow, a wool blanket and a couple of soft furs scattered on the carpented floors. Britt had left early tonight – she had an early exposition tomorrow at the gallery, which you were thankful for, to be honest.

Five episodes of the Punisher were frankly a lot more than you could handle.

It all started quite innocently, when you thought about it. Britt came over with a nice bottle of Chardonnay and stories to spill about her ex. Indeed, it has been three weeks since she became single and you both had been enjoying it to the fullest – as a matter of fact, this was so far the only evening you decided to stay in. Once your sushi order had been devoured and the second bottle of wine had been opened – Cabernet d’Anjou this time – you were stupid enough to ask what Britt wanted for dessert.

‘Eye-candy, obviously,’ she smiled at you mischeviously, already switching from some random music channel to Netflix. Your entire body had literally gone cold at her statement.

‘Britt,’ you began warningly. ‘We are not watching the Punisher’.

‘Fuck yes we do’,  she exclaimed, a happy smile blooming on her lips. Seeing you wince slightly, she sighed. ‘Oh come on Y/N. You have no idea what you’ve been missing. This is like the greatest rave you’ve been invited to and for some reason you choose to ignore the invitation!’

Raising your eyebrows at her quite picturesque metaphore, you glanced at the screen, where Netflix offered you to stare at your friend Benjamin Barnes until you couldn’t bear seeing his sinfully handsome face anymore.

‘You know I don’t watch movies with my friends in them,’ you finally said. ‘Especially where my friends play murderers or bastards.’

‘Barnes is a bastard alright. Being that hot should be illegal,’ Britt smirked at you, pushing the red play button. You groaned, serving yourself another glass of wine. This was bound to be a long night.

You weren’t wrong. The clock just struck three in the morning, yet you still stared at your MacBook’s screen massaging your temples.

Just as you predicted, none of this little TV series binging was going to do you any good.

As soon as you met Ben for the first time, you promised yourself you were never going to fall for him. You guys had hit it off right away, getting along like a house on fire. Your chemistry on the screen was indeniable, and since you were extremely comfortable with each other, you accepted to act out a romantic relationship in a couple of steamy movies, including David Robert Mitchell’s new Bonnie and Clyde narrative. If you were going to be honest with yourself, it was right around that time that you realized you might have crossed that dangerous line. Without even noticing at first, you started falling for the man, admiring those beautiful sparks in his chocolate eyes, his easy and heartwarming smile, the way he cared for you in all those little ways, bringing you coffee, running back to his trailer to fetch you a sweater, taking you out for dinner when you learned that you failed an important audition.

Luckily, just when you realized how fucked up your feelings towards your best friend were, he was casted in the next big gig of Patty Jenkins. You had to temporarily part ways and you haven’t seen him for more than five months now.

This was doing your crazed heart so much good you started to think straight like a normal person again.

Until this fucking Punisher movie night.

So now, circling the rim of your glass with your pinky absentmindedly, you stared at Ben’s twitter page. You didn’t even know what brought you here, but you also knew you’d been staring at it for an hour now. Your dizzy mind, filled with flashing images of Billy Russo shagging that beautiful actress, begged for some stupid, irrevocable action.

Exhaling slowly, you clicked tweet. You fingers tapped the words against your better judgement, and it wasn’t long before you hit send.

Staring at the screen, your heart beating double time, you watched your tweet hit a hundreds of likes, retweets and ‘ahhh’ comments per minute, the sentiment of terror growing in your chest.

Scanning the tweet that you wrote, you gulped down the remainders of white wine from your glass. Had you just singlehandedly undermined the future of your friendship with Ben?...

Y/N-Y/L/N @y/n_y/l/n 2 min

I know I’m late to the party and all that but… #holyshit @benbarnes, who is that hot guy named Billy Russo that you’ve been hiding from me for so long? When are you going to introduce us to each other?

By the time you finished re-reading your tweet, it spread like plague, judging from the number of retweets. Your home fell silent, nothing perturbing the heavy atmosphere, but the sound of your computer cooling down.

Biting your bottom lip so hard it hurt, you clicked back to Ben’s twitter page, mentally cursing yourself for being so stupid. Damn Britt and damn her eye-candy cravings…

And then your heart dropped. 1 new tweet, was all it took for you to start sweating profusely. Barely remembering how to breath – God you were pathetic – you clicked on the notification.

Was it his answer to you? If it was, was it as poignant and mocking as you knew Ben could be sometimes?

Sweet baby Jesus, what have you gotten yourself into?

Your lips raw and blood-red by now, you braced yourself for the worst…

Ben Barnes @benbarnes 1 min

Oh thank God, @y/n_y/l/n, the pretty boy has been bragging about you for months now. How does tomorrow sound? He said he’d pick you up around seven-ish. He also says its a date.

You blinked, dumbfounded, re-reading his answer again. And again. And again.

Jesus Holy Christ on a bicycle! Ben friggin Barnes had just asked you out?!

Hold your horses, Y/N, you commanded to yourself, feeling your cheeks turn red. This must be some kind of joke… He wasn’t even in New York these days!

You suddenly felt a pit in your stomach starting to grow, bitterness making its home on your tongue.

You should have known better than to put yourself out there like that. This was worse than any mockery Ben could have come up with, this playing along for the public image thing…

If only he knew how much you ached for him all along…

Your attention switched back to your computer, your screen going alight. Another tweet on Ben’s page. Telling yourself nothing could be worse than what you were going through right now, you clicked on the notification – again.

Ben Barnes @benbarnes 1 min

What do you want me to tell him, @y/n_y/l/n? I ought to say, he’s looking pretty threatening with this gun he’s aimed at me, but I know you can turn him into a kitten just by saying yes. Don’t tell him that though, he’s afraid of showing his soft side.

A lump in your throat was hard to ignore as you laughed quietly, covering your mouth. Was Ben serious? Your best friend Ben, your partner in crime Benito Barnsoia, is actually asking you out on a date, being all nervous and basically telling you you’re the one?!

Excited smile quickly becoming a part of your normal  physique, you typed an answer, short and simple.

Y/N-Y/L/N @y/n_y/l/n  just now

@benbarnes, I am a sucker for guns. And kittens. But don’t tell him that. Seven sharp. My place. It’s a date.

Your laughter broke the silence of the room, resonating in its walls. Slamming your computer shut, you put your elbows on its surface, staring into the dimness of the room, you heart beating softly.

A date with pretty boy Billy Russo.

If he was your future, than damn it looked good.

[hecallsmehischild]

IZ Fanfic - Hey Spacejerk - Bonus

Surprise! So these fragments are not part of the story. However it took me a few tries to get the last chapter the way I wanted, and I wanted to put those efforts somewhere. While they didn’t fit exactly right, I really liked certain aspects of them. So consider them bonus snippets. No, there will not be more about them. They are just failed attempts at the final chapter of Hey Spacejerk.

Attempt #1: Child vampire stakeout

The hall light flickered as Dib kicked at the ratty brown carpet runner. Someone had drunk staple-gunned it in place so it sported several trip-hazard folds sticking up to catch unsuspecting shufflers. Though the competing stereos and crying babies might cover up an approach on floorboards that cracked like gunshots, it wasn’t good to take those kind of chances. A painful encounter with a Jersey devil had taught him that paranormal creatures living in plain sight often knew when they were being hunted and took detailed inventory of their home-base’s typical sensory input. They rarely missed subtle changes like, say, an unfamiliar set of footsteps. With that in mind, Zim had been sent up the side of the crumbly apartment building to watch for the target’s departure and signal an all-clear.

He lifted his hand up to his nose, his finger hovering just over the bridge of his glasses. Pushing his glasses up would send a cricket chirp to Zim, an unobtrusive check-in that wouldn’t compromise his position. A tap to the right glasses arm would open two way communication. A tap to the left glasses arm would send audio without receiving any. The new setup had drastically reduced their blunders in the last few months.

If Zim didn’t chirp the all-clear signal in ninety seconds, Dib decided, he’d chirp to see if things were still okay.

Of course things were fine. He scolded himself, jamming his hands in the pockets of his signature floor-length black trenchcoat. Zim would have alerted him if he’d run into anything he couldn’t handle. There had been that one situation with the fae… but they weren’t inspecting a mushroom ring this time. Zim would be fine.

There. Two quick chirps through the receiver in his glasses frame. All clear. Dib strode down the hall, giving a wide berth to the radiator that smelled like something had died underneath and took the stairs two at a time. Questionable-looking brown smears covered long stretches of the wall and the air was thick with the smell of marijuana. Up. Up. Up to the seventh floor and down the hall, passing doors with numbers crooked, upside down, or just missing.

Apartment 704 had the same tired red paint that every other door had, but none of the peeling paint or mold spots. Strips were missing, but the surface had been sanded smooth, and there wasn’t a sign of mud or stains. The door was already ajar. Cautious, Dib tapped the bridge of his glasses once, double checking with Zim.

Two fast chirps back and Dib entered, shutting the door behind him. Under his feet was a worn but clean little rainbow doormat. The walls, though beige, fairly gleamed. The threadbare carpeting was flush with the floor. Dib ran a gloved hand along the counter and pulled it back dust-free.

“Doubtful I could find any germs, even with microgoggles,” Zim marveled, poking his head into the fridge and freezer. “Nothing here. Empty refrigerator. Cleaning supplies in the cupboard, but no food.”

Dib glanced at a small bookshelf crammed with raggedy paperbacks. He pulled one out at random. “The Selection. Kiera Cass.” He stuck his tongue out. “Cover tells me it’s a princessy love triangle.” He slid it back in its place.

Zim grabbed it back off the shelf, inspecting it. “Love triangle. Terminology to describe a recurring concept in various mediums of storytelling where creature number one cannot decide whether to mate with creature number two or creature number three. Sometimes creature number two and creature three want to mate with each other, and creature number one is furious. But how can you tell just by looking at the picture on front?”

Dib shrugged. “Eh, publishers tend to put very similar visual cues on books that emphasize a particular ‘recurring concept’ in their storytelling.”

Zim inspected the book, thumbing through a few pages. “Note to PAK, begin database of published book covers for cross referencing.”

“I’d count that as less important than figuring out that you shouldn’t go shouting your name at the fae when they ask.”

“It was one time! I was not warned! When are you going to stop mocking me?”

“The day you stop reacting.” Dib pulled a couple more books to check for hidden compartments but his enthusiasm was fading. A couple anime and cartoon posters hung on the wall, their edges carefully repaired with tape. A twin mattress with overlarge mickey mouse bedding was crammed into the corner. No TV, no electronics, and according to Zim, no food.

Dib lifted the mattress. Underneath was a ziplock bag with a few dollars and coins in it, but nothing else. “Zim, you got visual confirmation of her leaving? ‘Cause right now we’re not getting more than circumstantial evidence.”

“She took the fire escape down.” Zim pointed at the window he had likely used for his own entrance. Dib approached, scratching a nail along a pane. A thick layer of jet black paint curled away under his nail. Blackout curtains hung on a bent rail overhead.

“I was expecting a hidden store of blood somewhere,” Dib admitted. “But it doesn’t look like she has the cash to get a hidden cold storage system, and you already checked the freezer.”

“Those are children’s cartoons, are they not?” Zim pointed at the cheerful bedspread. “Perhaps your informants overestimated her age.”

“That’s possible, but who knows how long she’s been whatever age she is, too.” Dib sighed. “This is a mess. No way to determine if she’s a threat or not from this.”

Zim cleared his throat. “Perhaps, Agent Mothman, we should consider waiting here and speaking to her when she returns. Perhaps she has something to say for herself.”

Dib slowly slid the book he was holding back in its place, keeping his eyes on the shelf. Stilted formality was a cue Zim had locked onto from their lessons about saying-what-you-mean-without-actually-saying-it. If she was anywhere, she was probably at the window, and he wasn’t going to spook her by glancing over. “You have a point, Agent Spiderlegs.”

Reason dropped: They’re way too competent, so it’s been a long time and that makes it harder to do exposition right. Also for what purpose are they here? Is it to protect this child vampire? Is it to recruit her? See if she’s a threat or not? Exactly what is their standing in the Eyeball by now? It kicked up more questions than I was willing to answer in a final chapter but MAN did I love playing with setting clues for a bit.

Attempt #2: PAK replacement trials

“Would you stop twitching already?” Dib squinted along the headlamp’s beam into the mess of Zim’s PAK. “Okay, so there’s a blueish glassy cylinder in here that’s filled with tiny bead-like things. Glass is cracked.”

A long string of Irken curses followed this observation.

“Right. I take it that’s not easy to get ahold of. Start figuring out how to explain to me what this does and I’ll see if we can’t find a substitute you can use to patch it up.”

“That is pure Meekrob valgrathstal! You cannot just substitute and patch like you’re repairing a ship’s hull! This is a component of my existence!” Zim screeched.

“Well we don’t have a lot of other options, Zim!” Dib flipped the PAK shut, rubbing his eyes. “That’s enough for now. I don’t think we can probe farther in until we have some materials to repair you.”

Morose, Zim twisted around to face his workspace. Reaching into the top drawer, he pulled out the makeup kit Dib had pieced together for him and began applying a white paste to his face. It was a temporary solution that served a double purpose as water repellent and a base over which Zim would apply a nosepiece, prosthetic ears, and tan foundation.

Dib plopped down on his bed and sighed. It was going to be rocky for a while on their new pay level, but Agent Darkbooty had thrown in a deposit on a mediocre apartment near Zim’s old base, as well as some used furniture. Hopefully in a few months they could scrape together enough funds to start experimenting with earthly substances that had a shot at operating as replacement PAK components.

The damage from the Tallests’ attack on Zim plus his internal battle for control had cost Zim dearly. Attempting to activate any sort of hologram triggered an agonizing shock, and until Dib could reach the deeper circuitry to remove the pain/pleasure conditioning hardware, they would have to rely on low-tech special effects to mask Zim’s appearance. And Zim could no longer initiate repairs on his own PAK, as the amount of time he could separate from it had been cut in half. In addition, he now he required something akin to sleep in order to function properly. For about five hours per day, Zim had to shut down all PAK functions except life support and lie comatose. It was up to Dib to “restart” Zim, and Mars have mercy if he was even thirty seconds late.

He wished Zim would cut him some slack when he slipped up. On the other hand, Zim was swallowing huge amounts of humble pie while learning, so maybe Dib just had to let the browbeating sessions go.

Reason dropped: was too much of a downer. Slipping too much into exposition. I wanted to reward the protagonists more than this.

[hgfstreamchats]

Halloween (2018)

Hello! Night human, hello! Are you playing music, or is it coming from somewhere else? It should be coming from my end. If it's not, well... Ah, good Follow the sound of the unexplicable Halloween theme for a magical adventure. I LOVE magical adventures! I like how some of the whipped cream disappeared mysteriously before they put the nutmeg on Very mysterious indeed. I assume the answer involves licking. The answer always involves licking. Is that considered humane? Just keep them standing around in the sun? I... have no idea what the exact setup is supposed to be, but presumably they're not outside all the time Wuh oh So the mask is supposed to be... a magic artifact now? Good old Pumpkin! It's... un-rotting! It's got things to do! Things to watch! Yes.  Things.

The slit between the nose and the mouth kind of weirds me out there. You too? "well, surely they don't mean us" "Not us! We're starting things on a respectful note, comparing her to her almost-killer and a caged animal all within under the space of a minute!" "we've traveled a very long way... we didn't feel like trying to contact you ahead of time or make an appointment or anything, though" unbiased as SHIT "Here's 3000 dollars, now let us make a rubbing of your scar." IKR? "how the fuck should I know" I kinda hope this guy is the first victim. "We did, but we were sort of hoping to snap off a few shots of you crying." Likewise. I have a bad feeling about those mousetraps I hope they go off on Podcast Man's person. Somehow. That sounds like a lie That's Pumpkin's polar opposite, the disgusted one. The one who kinkshames. Kast, I swear to various gods, I will destroy you. Victim #2 Starscream! Hello! I finally beat the blasted thing into working. I did not want to miss the shenanigans. You haven't missed much! And so you didn't! A couple of idiot journalists went to bother the final girl from the first movie I'm glad. Today requires dead teenagers. And upset Michael's fellow patients for no reason. Ah, that is always a good idea. Ah, that is always a good idea. This one is aware she lives in a horror movie universe, isn't she. Yeah. Is *anyone* going to approach her and her very obvious trauma in anything resembling a respectful way? Probably not! Doubtful. wow awww man She clearly is not handling herself well. "It's not like this is a difficult day for you or anything." What kind of person doesn't shrug off a whole lot of her friends getting murdered and nearly getting murdered herself? Shiiiit I mean, we knew it was coming, but "don't get murdered" Who gave that child a rifle? Oh good, the kid has a gun I bet it'll do him a world of good I bet he startles and shoots his own father. cool, cool, investigate by yourself Well, you guessed close, anyway! And who's in the backs....yep That's about right. "And, don't forget, just naked enough for """fanservice"""" Let's see.... known serial killer on the loose on the night he's known for being extra murderous... Yes, maybe you should cancel Halloween. What can possibly go wrong?! Oh, great Lovely! Ugh He's very strong for an older fellow. Maybe should have given him a little less fresh air and healthy food. So, that's four more corpses. Think they will cancel Halloween yet? Says the soon-to-be-corpse Whatever you say, Corpse Number 5. Just think of how squirrelly she will be when her stupid family gets murdered for not listening to her. :( And journalists intrude on her privacy to ask her about it. Does no one in this town lock their door? Apparently not? Ham, never eaten. Oh, jeez He doesn There's no effort needed to get in. Oh, I like this little human. Awww. Yes, leave the door open. Every door in this town must be left open, so murderers can get in. Welp. "If you're cold, they're cold. Bring them in." Wow. What the fuck. I hope he is stabbed nineteen times. Uhh. "a noise like... a murderer?" Oh goody, dry! fuuuuck cue murder ...really, dude So I guess she didn't QUITE check everywhere That kid is going to need so much therapy. Run, sensible child! Run! Again, they know that they have a murderer problem. Why does he have no backup? Backup is for losers I think he wants to be murdered. "Captured" "so in a way, all this is his fault" It is not paranoia, if there really is something out there to get you. If only some shithead hadn't dropped her phone in the punch bowl, or soup, or whatevr that was facepalm . . . . Oh, I've heard that one. oh my god. dude stop Look at that, she managed to not be killed for the moment. ...Well, that took care of that! Double tap. Is it Ben Tramer? .... Well, that's a problem. Damn it. So did he survive that after all?  Are there two of them now? Oh, he's not going to be happy about that. Now his mask has old man stink inside it. I admit I don't quite get how he did that through the grate He kicked the grate out. Ohhh His head was...overripe, apparently? I guess? That was a strange plot cul-de-sac ...I feel like taking the van would've been a better bet It's Pumpkin! Well, damn it Oh. No, no it isn't. Oh, no!  That guy I hated is dead now! Hopefully she didn't like him too much. I don't like that he gets to survive most of the movie and Fun Babysitter didn't. I feel like it's a bad idea to leave that remote up there. I feel like her just leaving the remote on the counter there is a bad thing urgh I hope she brought it down with her, at least Well, that gave you away. But what do I know? It's not my paranoia cellar. I feel like she should have forced him into a chute, for a clean kill. Oh, crap Don't be impatient... For someone planning this for forty years, she's done a poor job of building a trap house. That is a creepy target practice area Why have a scary mannequin room, if you know one day this situation is coming? Right? For that matter, why not install proper indoor lighting, to see who you're trying to shoot? That would spoil the jumpscares! When you're planning on facing off with your supernatural attacker someday and plotting things out to the minute, but you need to keep the atmosphere Spooky. About time. hey Hello and goodbye, Nude Human. Keep shooting him. I feel like this is a kill that should be confirmed before they relax. No more relaxing for any of them ever. But on the plus side, they no longer think Grandmother is crazy. Now they love Grandmother and her room full of non-jamming guns and canned corn! Grandmother who they all call grandmother for some reason. Why *did* she stock rations? Did she think Michael would just pop a seat down on the kitchen floor for a month on end and they'd have to wait him out? Perhaps she was planning for zombies as well, given she knows at least one creature that refuses to stay dead. She likes to cover all bases. Michael, zombies...got a couple of hobgoblin defenses lined up just in case. If one is going to be prepared, might as well cover all bases. Except when it comes to well lit rooms and moving the mannequins out. Who has time for that? Sigh. My computer froze and I missed everything after the spooky mannequin rom. What happened? They eventually got him into the basement, and lit him on fire. Which he'll almost assuredly walk off. Oh, good. Less good. And we hear his spooky breathing at the end of the credits, so... And Allison has a knife. Of course we do. I haven't been able to pull up a light note to end on, so I'm open to suggestions! Goose game! Goose game it is! How about a fun goose game highlight reel? Beautiful! He's enjoying the moment. Sun hat! put it in the pond! What did this old man ever do to anyone? He dared try to get work done. Tried to keep the goose out of the garden! Unforgiveable! Unforgourdable! I'm having this great idea for a game for you to stream sometime! I'm thinking the same thing! I thought he did too! no, no, it's floating back! Somebody do something! Oh this kid gets TERRORIZED What kinda scam is she running here! Clearly she knows how to make the money. oh my gosh I wonder if you could make him buy back his glasses... His evil delight is infectious. He is having too much fun. What kind of person walks right up to a goose to take a ribbon off it I want to play this, but I don't think it's on steam... yet. That's going to be a beautiful day when it is. Right? Well, that wraps it up, I'd say! I am very glad I did not miss out. Your streams are definitely a highlight. Goodnight, and thanks for the stream! Oh, hush! But don't, of course, never hush. Thank you for coming! Good night!

[pinknerdpanda]

Stardust and Sleepless Nights

Word Count: 1102

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean (mentioned)

Warnings: Fluff, innuendos, language, blushing Sam

A/N: This was a random thought I had at work today while watching this video. Also...this was supposed to be a drabble. :)

Beta’d By: @wheresthekillswitch and @hannahindie you are both wonderful!!

x

Stardust and Sleepless Nights

Insomnia is a raging bitch.

Every night for the last six weeks I've woken up, without fail, between 2:07 and 2:21 in the morning. And every night I get up, shuffle to the bathroom, grab a small glass of water and go back to my bed. Honestly? It's probably pretty normal for some people. Except I imagine most people don't spend the next 4 hours staring at their ceiling completely unable to go back to sleep.

I've tried everything I can think of: going to bed earlier, later, taking melatonin, counting sheep, warm milk. I haven't taken up Dean's very Dean-like suggestion of porn, but at this point I'm almost ready to give it a shot.

Frustrated, tired and annoyed, I throw back the covers, unwilling to let the night be a complete waste. There’s probably a gun that needs cleaning or book that needs to be re-cataloged. I rake my fingers through my hair, twisting it angrily into a messy bun on top of my head. I have come so near to chopping it all off lately, but every time I find a reason to keep it. Slipping on my robe over my pajamas, I make my way to the door, grumbling as I step into the hall.

The bunker is quiet; well, as quiet as it gets anyway. There always seems to be some sort of low humming frequency that fills in the cracks where there should be silence. I’ve always assumed it’s the antiquated generators and computer systems still chugging along to keep the place in working order. I don’t mind it, really. It’s kind of a comforting white noise that I’ve come to count on, especially since this insomnia nonsense kicked in.

“You wanna make sure you go really deep in there.”

The words from the other side of Sam's door stop me in my tracks. I hadn’t even realized I’d made it this far down the hallway. I double check the the large, wooden panelled door and the aged bronze numbers confirm my original suspicions; 21. Definitely Sam’s room.

“You don’t want to penetrate her from both sides,” the voice - one definitely not belonging to the hazel-eyed man - insists. “You’ve really gotta get in there all the way.”

Now, I love Sam. I do. But this is a side of him that I would have been completely ok with never knowing. And yet, here I am, lurking outside his door, like a creep mortified to have overheard...whatever it is I’ve overheard. Things like this cannot be undone. I will never not look at him and hear those words again.

“Oh yeah, look at that. Let me spin her around, give you a real good look,” the voice says. That’s all I can handle. I spin on my heel and head straight back from where I came. Staring at my ceiling has to be better than this. Except, evidently, my sleep deprived brain is bad at depth perception and I manage to crash into the wall instead.

“Shit,” Sam’s voice is muffled, but his surprise is clear and I hear a lot of clattering. Before I can recover and continue back to my room, the door opens with a creak behind me.

“Y/n?”

I grimace before turning around. I really didn’t want to face him tomorrow at breakfast, much less now. I plaster an embarrassed smile on my face and turn to face him. The light from the room behind him casts his features in shadow, but I can tell by the white of his eyes, the embarrassment goes both ways. Busted.

“Heya, Sam. Sorry I uh...you know...woke you,” I gulp.

“I was up actually. I’ve been having trouble sleeping,” he leans against the door frame and crosses his arms. The grey t-shirt he’s wearing is stretched over his large chest and muscular arms. I gulp again.

“I guess Dean’s been giving you advice to cure your insomnia too,” I mumble half under my breath.

“What?” Sam’s tone is genuinely confused for a moment and then realization strikes. “Wait, the porn thing!?!? No! That’s not...I wasn’t…”

Holding up my hands and dropping my eyes to the floor, I cut him off. “Hey man, no judgement. You do you...I’ll just go the other way next time.”

Sam laughs and it’s beautiful. His whole body shakes and I realize it’s a sight I don’t see often enough. It makes me happy.

“No….that’s not…” he gasps between chuckles. “Come here. I’ll show you.” He steps back, making space for me to come inside.

I narrow my eyes, staring at him warily. He sobers slightly.

“There’s no porn. I promise.”

I huff a breath and follow him inside. His room is clean and organized and it smells like Sam. He sits on his bed and turns his computer toward me. I flinch impulsively and he chuckles again.

I glance at the screen and find a paused Youtube video titled “The Stardust Technique.”

Sam leans over and taps the spacebar, resuming the video, a small smile playing at his lips.

“So you just want to take this next section and paint the lightener on the inside of each section. Really get it in there and feather it in toward the bottom.” The voice from before narrates as a man with black and silver hair proceeds to paint a women’s hair. I look up at Sam, more confused than before.

“His name is Guy Tang. He’s a hair stylist and he does lots of tutorial videos,” Sam offers, his gaze fixed on the screen as the man takes another section of hair and continues painting.

“Sam, if the idea here was to raise more questions than answers, I think you’ve succeeded.”

Sam smiles, pausing the video again. “I know you were talking about wanting to get your hair cut the other day and I thought maybe if I found some videos and taught myself how…” Sam trails off.

“You’re teaching yourself to cut hair for me?” My voice has reached new levels of incredulity.

Sam blushes, dropping his gaze. “Well, I mean...I guess so.”

“That’s so nice.” I can’t keep the stupid grin from my lips. “But this looks like highlights.”

Sam’s eyes light up. “It’s balayage or handpainted highlights. It’s really popular right now and he has a ton of different techniques…” Sam blushes again. “I kinda got lost in a black hole of Youtube videos.”

“Thank you, Sam.” I smile broadly for a moment, but it falters. “But I really thought you were watching porn.”

Sam chuckles, his eyes twinkling. “Just hair porn.”

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags - Stay weird. I love y’all:

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[thatothercosplayer]

“Yo! Ikura-hakase here.” She waves. “I know things have been quiet lately, but there’s good reason for that. We’re hard at work on our first ever Summer movie! Exciting, right?” Ikura grins. “Unfortunately, until we finish, posts will be rather sparse. So, for now, I’m going to present a Top 5 to fill in the void of our absence!” 

A whiteboard rolls up out of nowhere, which has five long magnets covering up spots on it. 

“So, if you know anything about me as a person, you’d probably know I’m a huge Metal Hero fangirl. I mean...hello, I made Kyusha. But have you ever wandered what my personal favorites are? Well, wonder no more! I’m here to count down my personal favorite Metal Hero series! I’m going to set a few ground rules here. Given that there are two trilogies and a duology in the franchise, I’m going to limit myself to one entry each. So I can only choose one Space Sheriff, one Special Rescue team, and one B-Fighter team.” She blinks. “....that is, if I do put them in. And one more thing- this is probably gonna change. I mean, seriously, my favorites kind of change depending on what I’m in the mood for, but I love them all.  

#5 - Space Sheriff Sharivan

“I’m going to go ahead and get it out of the way- I love Gavan because he’s the original, and Shaider is....” Ikura pauses. “....well, Shaider, but when it comes to the Space Sherriffs I have to go with my boy in red, Sharivan. After all, I took a lot of my inspiration for Kyusha from him. Laser pistol? Finishers that end in ‘Crash’? Check, check, double check.” 

She clears her throat. “Anyways, Den Iga was a forest ranger from Inner Iga island. He was attacked and mortally wounded by the Buffalo Doubler, and sent off to Planet Bird by Retsu Ichijouji for some medical assistance. Impressed by his courage, Commander Qom of the Galactic Union Police (who Retsu works for) trains Den and eventually he becomes Sharivan, showing up in the last battle against Makuu to bail Gavan out of a tight spot. Afterwards, he remains stationed on Earth to fight against the Madou Space Crime Syndicate. They’re a totally different organization that definitely isn’t a pale imitation of the Makuu Space Mafia. Nope.” 

Ikura taps her chin. “Honestly, what isn’t there to like about Sharivan? His striking crimson electro-plate armor is sure to make an impression, and his spaceship turns into a giant robot thing that...admittedly, looks like a vacuum cleaner with legs, but still manages to look cool. Somehow. Not to mention, his theme is easily the catchiest out of the three Sheriffs. Heeeey booooy~” She starts humming to herself.

#4 - Tokusou Robo Janperson

“If Jiban is the Metal Hero franchise’s answer to Robocop, then Janperson is it’s answer to Robot Detective. Y’know, one of the more forgotten Shoutarou Ishinomori shows from the 70s?” Ikura clears her throat. “Anyways, what does Janperson do? Well....he fights for justice. Seriously! Over the course of his adventures he tears through four different criminal organizations. Damn! Janperson doesn’t fuck around!” 

“One of my favorite things is the way he announces his presence. The bad guys could be in the middle of a meeting or plot, then all of a sudden, a golden card with a star on it is embedded in the ground at their feet! It’s a JP-Card, which means Janperson has arrived to kick ass and take names! One thing that’s interesting for Janperson is that he follows in the footsteps of the Special Rescue trilogy and mainly fights criminals. Occasionally he fights runaway robots or killer cyborgs, but Janperson mostly goes up against assassins, mobsters, etc. That said, though, he’s still got a crazy big arsenal to boot! Cannons, wire punches, missiles, and lots and lots of guns. No wonder he defeats four criminal organizations- he mowed them all down with his weapons!”

“Now, as for his appearance, he’s purple, which makes him stand out pretty well. He doesn’t transform so much as he throws off his civilian clothes and put a combat visor on his face. That’s it. Because....well, he’s a robot. So, he’s kind of always on duty as a result. I really love his car- the main section can split into a helicopter, while the car becomes remote-controlled and has a giant frickin’ cannon in it! Subtlety, thy name is definitely not Janperson.” 

#3 -  Choujinki Metalder

“So remember the Kikaider duology? The tale of two cyborgs fighting against evil while struggling with what it means to be artificial life? Well, Metalder is their cousin, and he’s pissed. Created by  Dr. Ryūichirō Koga as a secret weapon in WWII, and modeled after the Dr.’s dead son, Tatsuo Koga. The Doctor ends up shelving Metalder due to his pacifism, and fucks off to the United States to go work for NASA. Then, Koga’s old partner, Kunio Muraki turns super evil and becomes the wicked God Neros, who creates an empire of machines. Dr. Koga discovers this, and Neros begins working to kill him. It’s been 42 years since he hid away Metalder, and he reawakens him. Giving him the name Ryusei Tsurugi, the Doctor dies to Neros’ forces, causing Ryusei to get pissed and become Metalder for the first time.” 

“Phew! That’s a lot to talk about. Metalder is a story about revenge. During his quest to defeat the Neros Empire, Ryusei befriends many people and learns a lot about emotions, life, and the world he fights to protect. In the end, he sacrifices his humanity in order to save the world, losing his ability to fight in the process.”

“If there’s one thing I can give Metalder credit for, it’s how freakin’ brutal the fights can be. Since Metalder is a cyborg, and he fights other robots and cyborgs, there are a lot of times where gets torn open, loses a limb, etc. Likewise, his enemies get pretty beaten up, too- they don’t always die in explosions. Sometimes they just get beaten until they’re dead. While there’s plenty of your typical toku tropes- y’know, explosions, calling out your attacks, and finishers- Metalder does just enough to make itself stand out a bit more from the rest of the Metal Heroes. While a bit on the short end, it’s a good watch.”

#2 - Jikuu Senshi Spielvan

“The planet Clin is destroyed by the Waller Empire, which is searching for its deity. Two children survive and escape to Earth aboard a ship named the Grand Nasca. The two grow up during the long journey and arrive on Earth to begin fighting against Clin to make sure that the same tragedy isn’t repeated. Along the way, Spielvan searches for his missing father and sister.”

“You wanna talk about space epics? Spielvan is probably the greatest example in the franchise. Seriously, I love the opening of Spielvan just because of the epic scope of it. Spielvan did a few things for the franchise that hadn’t been done up to that point; while previous heroes had female sidekicks, they never joined them in battle. Well, that all changed with Diana Lady, who fought alongside Spielvan pretty regularly.”

“The two claims to fame that Spielvan makes after that is his signature double bladed Laser Blade, which I also took inspiration from for Kyusha! Alongside that is the arc of Spielvan coming to learn that Hellvira, one of the Waller Empire’s strongest agents, was actually his brainwashed sister! Eventually he saves her and she joins up alongside them, becoming Helen Lady. Though....her suit is just a slightly different version of Diana Lady’s. Pretty lame, right? Well, regardless, Spielvan is freakin’ awesome. But.....it doesn’t beat my absolute favorite...”

#1 - Tokkei Winspector 

“I tried. I really tried to pick something other than Winspector for my number one spot. I love Solbrain, I love Exceedraft, but I have a soft spot for the original Special Rescue Police team. They fight criminals who are a bit too much for the regular police to handle- those that use superweapons, cyborgs, or other threats to commit crimes. Atop that, they also perform rescue in situations that are a bit too delicate for firefighters or other rescue services. The team consists of one human and two robots; Ryoma Kagawa, Fire, who acts as the leader and main investigator. His two partners are Walter, a green flying robot, and Bikel, a yellow motorcycle robot who speaks with a Nagoya dialect.” 

“Honestly, everything I love about Metal Hero can be seen on display in this series. The futuristic setting, the hard sci-fi influences, the cool gadgets, the intrigue, it’s all there. And what’s even better, despite not having any monsters of the week for the first time in the franchise’s history, Winspector has a lot more room to tell compelling stories as a result. You get stuff like fighting to get a cure for a super rare snake’s venom, defending a boy from a killer cyborg condor, chasing runaway robots, or taking out mad inventors. Don’t forget that the ever great Takayuki Miyauchi sings the theme for the series, which he also does for the two sequels, Solbrain and Exceedraft. Honestly, I could talk all day about this series. What’s great is that, even today there are spiritual successors in the form of Rescue Fire and GoGoV. Definitely worth checking out if you want a bit of a change of pace.” 

Ikura claps her hands together. “Well, that’s my top 5! Maybe one day I’ll have Keiko, Yuna, or Hikaru do one of these. Wouldn’t that be fun?? Anyways, that’s enough for now. I’ve got to get back to work.” 

[helloworlddemo1122-yahoopar-blog]

EXCLUSIVE: 'The Mummy' Director Alex Kurtzman on Building a Dark Universe and Dream Casting Jennifer Lawrence

Alex Kurtzman knows his way around a franchise. The writer-director-producer had a hand in creating million-dollar tentpoles out of Transformers and Star Trek, in addition to scripting the second installment in The Amazing Spider-Man series. With his latest, a reboot of The Mummy starring Tom Cruise, he hopes to not only resurrect the iconic bandaged baddie, but spawn an entire cinematic universe of Universal Monster movies, to be known as the Dark Universe.

"It's like childbirth," Kurtzman told ET of the anticipation he feels over fans finally being able to see his take on The Mummy (in theaters now). "The head is crowning, so you're just waiting for the whole world to see your child. It's exciting! It's been a long journey."

REVIEW: 'The Mummy' Is a Thrilling Start to the Dark Universe's Monster Mash

ET: In terms of building this new cinematic universe, which came first: the idea of rebooting The Mummy or this plan to build the Dark Universe?

Alex Kurtzman: The idea to bring The Mummy back. The Dark Universe was an agenda that kind of evolved as the script developed, in looking for ways to tell a new Mummy story while honoring the classic Universal Monsters films. One of the ideas that emerged was this idea that she [Sofia Boutella's Princess Ahmanet, the titular mummy] exists in a larger continuum of monsters and maybe was one of the earliest ones, but certainly not the last one. Once that began to take shape, we began to think about bringing other monsters into the world and folding them under one umbrella. That's how Dark Universe came to be.

Why is The Mummy the best choice to launch this universe?

The Mummy is so familiar to people. It has endured for so long, because it asks some really fascinating questions about life after death. And the mythology of The Mummy has always been so interesting. Because it is so familiar to people, we wanted to give them an entry point that was easy, and yet, we wanted to do it in a way that felt fresh and different. That's why we led with The Mummy.

Universal Pictures

This is, essentially, a reboot of two movies -- the original Boris Karloff The Mummy from 1932 and the Brendan Fraser franchise from the '90s. What were the things, while watching those films, that you wanted to hold on to?

To me, the defining trait of all monster films is that you are scared of the monster and you sympathize with the monster. I love that about the Universal Monster films. They are, in many ways, a genre unto themselves for that reason. I wanted to honor that. I wanted to find a story for our mummy that was different and interesting and sympathetic and complicated.

The mummy's power to mesmerize was something that, obviously, originated in the Karloff film, and I loved the idea of applying that to a Tom Cruise movie, because we know that Tom Cruise is always going to save the day. But the minute you have a mummy inside his head controlling him in a way that even he doesn't understand, everything becomes very unpredictable. I thought that was exciting. And there's a dagger that features very prominently in the Karloff film that we pay homage to in ours.

Did you ever consider a Brendan Fraser cameo, just as a little Easter egg for the fans?

We wanted to tip our hat to it, and there are two moments that do that in the film [including the Book of Amun-Ra, which Fraser's character use to defeat Imhotep in 1999's The Mummy]. We never really talked actively about bringing Brendan Fraser in, because he lived in a very different time period than the modern day and so he would be potentially not even alive. [Laughs] Unless he himself were a monster, it didn't seem like he would make a whole lot of sense. And if he were a monster, then we would have had a lot of explaining to do about why he was there.

Tom Cruise toplines so many franchises, with Mission: Impossible and the Jack Reacher movies and now Edge of Tomorrow and Top Gun are both getting sequels. When you are setting out to create a new franchise, do you ever worry about casting a guy who already has too many?

Not really, because I think what I love about Tom and the films that he has done is that he has this amazing track record of playing very morally challenged characters in a very likable way. For me, as an audience member, it's far more satisfying to watch somebody who's messed up and broken and discovers their better self than it is to watch someone who is perfect. And in order to really do that right, you need a movie star. And very few of them can do it. I've been a lifelong fan of his, starting back at Risky Business and Top Gun and Taps. To be able to take that and work with him, for me, was just too exciting to pass up.

I actually started thinking about whether franchise saturation exists because of Dwayne Johnson. Everything he's in becomes a franchise and now there are rumors he might get a Wolf Man franchise, too.

Who knows! But it's true. I mean, there are certain actors who bring with them this "I want to see him again in that story" quality. And Dwayne is obviously one of those guys. Tom is one of those guys. It comes with the territory with movie stars these days.

Universal Pictures

Can you tell me your best Tom Cruise-doing-his-own-stunts story?

It was easily the first time we spoke about doing the plane crash sequence, because I said, "Look, I think what I want to do is build this rotisserie set, which is a rotating set. We'll put the camera on a crane. We can move the crane through the set. It'll be really cool." And he said, "Yeah, that sounds great, but why don't we do it for real?" And I went, Oh man, I'm making a Tom Cruise movie. And then he told me about the vomit comet, which is this plane that we shot the sequence in and the plane literally plummets toward Earth and freefalls for 22 seconds and everything you're seeing in that shot is real. It's Annabelle [Wallis] and Tom spinning through the air. There's no CGI there. Just being given the opportunity to shoot a sequence like that, really could only happen if you are doing a Tom Cruise movie, because so few actors would want to do it for real. But he is always looking to deliver an experience for the audience that they haven't had before and immerse them in the reality of the moment.

When you have Tom Cruise doing most of his own stunts, does it make the rest of the cast who -- hey, maybe might use a stunt double in another movie -- step up and say, "If he's going to do it, I'll do it too"?

Oh yeah, for sure. It's not really an option, because if he's in the scenes with other people and the intention is to use long takes where you're actually seeing Tom in the middle of the action, then anyone else who is in the shot with him needs to be doing it for real. So, that is Annabelle on that plane. That is Jake [Johnson] running across those rooftops, dodging explosions. It was deeply challenging, because for sure, they had been used to [stunt doubles]. You know, Jake hadn't even done stunts before this movie! But they really rose to the challenge, and I think Tom brings that out of everybody.

You are building the Dark Universe around villains, which is unconventional, because you expect the villains to be vanquished at some point, if not the end of the first movie then certainly in a sequel down the road. Does that mean we will be seeing a number of different mummies, Draculas and Creatures From the Black Lagoon?

What I love about the classic Universal Monsters is there is an assumption that these characters are broken, without any expectation that they are going to get fixed. Because if they get fixed, they won't be monsters anymore. I think that, given the fact that Universal Monsters were the first shared universe ever -- it started with Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man -- we have license to do a lot of that. That being said, we really want to make sure each movie, at least at the outset of Dark Universe, is a standalone monster film, is a satisfying film in its own right. And if in the context of that, we can open the door to the larger Dark Universe, then great! But it's really important that you go to the theater and enjoy that movie and don't feel like you're being sold on something so big, you know? Just go have fun at the movies.

Universal Pictures

Have you already started thinking about The Mummy 2? The ending leaves it open, in terms of whether we will see Sofia's mummy again or bring in a new villain for the next one?

There have been lots of conversations about it. As we were developing the first movie, many ideas emerged that didn't make it to the film and so you start keeping a book of those, a list of those ideas. So, absolutely, anything's possible. And, certainly, Tom's intention is to return to another one.

When you're building a cinematic universe like this, you have to plan ahead, but you don't want to plan too far ahead and put the cart before the horse. I know you and Universal have revealed many of the titles they want to tie into this, but how many of them are actually broken out into detail?

We have Bride of Frankenstein written as a script, so that's now done in great detail. We are in the process of writing Creature, Wolf Man, [and] Van Helsing. There's quite a lot going on. And you're exactly right. The idea is to build these stories and there are lots of really talented writers with some really excellent new takes about what these movies need to be. But you also want to leave room for surprises and for evolution. We see how the movie works and we go from there. I come out of television [Kurtzman created "Fringe" and is executive producing the upcoming "Star Trek: Discovery"], where you want to put stakes in the ground for the larger ideas, but then also leave yourself room to be surprised. And that's what we're doing here.

What role will you, specifically, have going forth in the Dark Universe?

I'll be working with Chris Morgan and Chris McQuarrie and David Koepp to think globally about the universe and produce the films and work with the directors that we hire. And we'll see -- I'm kind of open to whatever's best for Dark Universe.

Sort of like the Dark Universe's showrunner, then?

Yeah, but more collectively than that. Because you're talking about extremely experienced guys. McQuarrie and Koepp were my heroes growing up as a screenwriter, and I want to make sure that we all can contribute to the vision of this. Then each director who comes in gets to put their own stamp on the films that they make. So, hopefully, you will come to expect a consistent tone from the universe, but I love the idea that each director puts their own signature on the movie.

Universal Pictures

Will all of the movies be set in the modern day? A lot of people were confused when you mentioned titles like The Phantom of the Opera and The Hunchback of Notre Dame, in terms of doing them in a contemporary setting.

They are going to predominately take place in modern day, but it is inherent in the monsters that they have a very deep history that goes back potentially centuries or even millennia. And the past will always play a big part in these films. So, it's not as clear-cut as "It's modern day." There will be some movies that have some structural surprises about how they play out.

In a recent interview, you named names of actors you'd like to bring into the universe: Michael Fassbender, Charlize Theron, Angelina Jolie. You mentioned Jennifer Lawrence, too. Is there a dream role you have for her?

Um, yes. But I can't tell you! [Laughs]

I have a suggestion: Gender-flipped Creature From the Black Lagoon.

Ooh, that's interesting! All right! We'll put it up the pipeline.

[pcwpolwrestling]

PCW Rewind: Extreme Political TV-1/11/2012 - Tea Party vs. Occupy Wall Street

PCW travels back to 2012 for a series of flashback shows illustrating the rise of the American Heartland/Independent/Les Miserables movement.

In this episode: it’s the Tea Party versus Occupy Wall Street, Independent Valora Salinas gets a title shot against then PCW Champion Daniel-San, Jon Huntsman drops out of the American Patriots race to determine the challenger to then CEO Barack Obama, and Snooki (of Jersey Shore fame) name drops current PCW CEO Donald Trump.

Featuring current PCW wrestlers: Ray McAvay, William Daniels Bryan (then Daniel-San), Texas Jack, Starz N . Stripes (then Kevin Scott), ‘The One Man Hollywood A-List’ Stone Chism, Yamamoto Tanaka, and Average Joe.

PCW Extreme Political TVWinter Sports Ice ArenaWillow Grove, PAMonday January 11th, 2012 Host: Johnny Suave

MATCH #1- joined in progress. PCW Tag Team Title Match:‘The Self Proclaimed Savior of the Middle Class’ Big Labor and James the Jeep Worker (D) © vs. John and Ronnie Walker

This is a rematch from last Thursday when Big Union obliterated the Walker Brothers and then offered them a rematch.

Last week:Big Labor cuts a disingenuous heel promo about how, as the Self Proclaimed Savior of the Middle Class, he hated to deliver the Scabbuster to a fellow middle class member.  Of course, if the Walkers were part of a union- that class A, asskicking, they just received would never had happened.  Big Labor says he’ll give Walkers a rematch any time, anywhere.

Big Labor lays out Ronnie Walker with a Scabbuster and then turns to John Walker and smiles.  He lifts Ronnie up a second time and hits him with a second Scabbuster.

Suave: “JUST PIN HIM ALREADY!”

Big Labor makes the cover…1…2…NO!  Big Labor pulls Ronnie up at the last second.   He calls for a microphone and tells the Walkers they showed some guts in showing up here to get their ass handed to them a second time.  Big Labor tells John to pledge his allegience to the true Savior of the Middle Class…

Suave: “That’s Self Proclaimed Savior of the Middle Class.”

…or else he’ll spike his brother a third time.  John turns to the crowd for help.

Big Labor: “You don’t put your faith in the hands of some rabbling scabs.  You put your faith in me.”

John is about to answer when…

Charlie Blackwell (American Heartland Coalition)  HT: 6′ 4″  WT: 215 / HOME: New Braunfels, TX / FIN: Tazzmission (Katahajime) MGR: Kenzie Blackwell

Mike the Mechanic (American Heartland Coalition)HT: 5’10”  WT: 202 / HOME: Cleveland, OH / FIN: Jumper Cables MGR: Tequila Sheila

Bobby Bare‘s ‘Pour Me Another Tequila, Sheila’ plays as Tequila Sheila leads Blackwell and his Les Miserables along with Mike the Mechanic hit the ring to battle Big Union.  Sheila hands Mike the Mechanic the jumper cables and he knocks out James the Jeep Worker (D) with them.

Blackwell ducks a right hand by Big Labor and puts him in the Katahajime.

Suave: “BLACKWELL’S CHOKING OUT BIG LABOR!”

Down comes the California Teacher’s Union…’The Foul Pole’ Andy Golatta (D) HT: 6’5″  WT: 245 / HOME: Warsaw, Poland / FIN: Foul Pole MGR: Gov. Jerry BrownMalibu Dusty (D) HT: 5’9, WT: 195 / HOME: Bakersfield, CA / FIN: Picket Line MGR: Gov. Jerry Brown

…but they’re intercepted by the Tea Party…Average Joe HT: 6′ 2″  WT: 220 / HOME: Defiance, OH / FIN: Average SlamNRAHT: 6′ 2″  WT: 269 / HOME: Richmond, IN / FIN: Gun Rack (modified torture rack)‘Tin Cup’ Ray McAvay HT: 6′ 2″  WT: 185 / HOME: Salome, TX / FIN: Seven-Iron MGR: Tromeo and Dr. Molly Greenwald

…The Tea Party brawls with the CTU until…

Occupy Wall Street (D) NateHT: 5′ 10″  WT: 190 / HOME: Minneapolis, MNShaneHT: 6′ 1″  WT: 185 / HOME: Newark, NJAdam HT: 6’0″  WT: 200 / HOME: New York City, NY

…shows up…the referee for their scheduled match appears and clears out the ring.

MATCH #2- Six Man Tag Team Match The Tea Party (R) vs. Occupy Wall Street (D)

[…Average Joe  rolls onto Nate connecting with a knee. NRA tags in McAvay. McAvay rolls onto Nate connecting with a knee. Nate gets up. Nate springboard DDT’s McAvay onto the mat!  Nate locks McAvay in the Occupy Grapevine submission.  The referee checks for a tap out. … … McAvay is fighting the hold.  Blackwell in the ring with a double axe handle and Nate breaks the hold.  Nate sends McAvay out of the ring.  McAvay is in the wrong part of town as Shane swings a Steel chair and blasts him with it.  McAvay is bleeding as a result.  Nate does a handspring and hits McAvay with a bodyblock, what a move!  McAvay with a Salome suplex on Nate that drives him to the floor.  McAvay bites Nate’s arm. ]

Suave: “HOLY CRAP!”

[Back in the ring, McAvay hits the cobra clutch suplex.   He follows with an arm wrench and Nate is in trouble.  McAvay with a frog splash on Nate.  He picks Nate up and hits a stomachbreaker.  Tromeo tells McAvay to finish him off and throws him the seven iron.  *WHACK*  Seven iron shot on Nate! McAvay covers…1 …2 …3 ]

WINNER: The Tea Party @ 16:06

Leader of the PCW Executive Committee Harry Reid (D-NV) charges down the ramp with the Democrats in tow and they attack the Tea Party.   O’Beck Bahama, PCW Television Champion ‘The One Man Hollywood A-List’ Stone Chism, Big Union, The CTU, Axel Rodd, ’New Age Sensitive Guy’ Blaine Thomas-Taylor obliterate the Tea Partiers.

Finally, the Republicans respond in kind and send their wrestlers to the ring.  PCW Security tries to sort it all out as PCW goes to commercial.

BACKSTAGEPCW Investigative Reporter Woodward Bernstein reports that Jon Huntsman (R-UT) is dropping out of the Republican race to challenge PCW CEO Barack Obama in November.

Huntsman: “This race had degenerated into an onslaught of negative and personal attacks not worthy of PCW and not worthy of this critical time in American history.”

Huntsman endorsed the Massachusetts Redblood Mitt Romney (R-UT) and then took a shot at current PCW CEO Barack Obama (D-IL) for engaging in “class warfare” and added that he felt it contributed to the divisiveness in PCW.

This leaves five main contenders left in the race to be the Republican to challenge PCW CEO Obama (D-IL):

Newt Gingrich (R-GA) Mitt Romney (R-MA) Rick Santorum (R-PA) Ron Paul (R-TX) Rick Perry (R-TX)

Suave: “Last week, Valora Salinas finally got her wish- a title match against PCW Champion Daniel-San (I) which will take place this Saturday at South Carolina Slaughter.  Here’s how it came about.”

Last Thursday on PCW Politics is War on P-SPANDaniel-San: “All she wants is a chance at the PCW title.  And as the PCW Champion, I’m willing to give her a shot.”

Reid and Pelosi are stunned.  Daniel-San sets the match for next Saturday’s PCW South Carolina Slaughter show and says “may the best man…or woman win.”  Valora escapes from Big Labor and Chism and low bridges both men.  Reid and Pelosi run for it.

In the ring, Daniel-San soaks up the crowd’s applause- not seeing that John Creese and the Cobra Conservatives are sneaking up on him.  Creese signals his gang and they attack Daniel-San.  The Cobra Cons deliver a vicious beatdown of the PCW Champion until Valora hits the ring and makes the save.

PCW Champion Daniel-San (I) talks with Woodward Bernstein.  He explains that the reason he is giving Valora a title match is because he’s obligated to defend the title and she deserves as much as anyone else.    Mrs. Miyagi adds that he’s not going to take her lightly before getting cut off by the champion.  Daniel-San then adds that Valora has won titles before and it’s time to see just how she’ll handle a big time match.

Bernstein then asks about the sneak attack on him last week by John Creese and the Cobra Cons.  Daniel-San evades answering the question and walks away leaving Mrs. Miyagi puzzled.

Suave: “That was weird.  And totally out of character for Daniel-San.  What’s going on?”

MATCH #3- PCW Television Title #1 Contender’s Match w/Special Referee: ‘The One Man Hollywood A-List’ Stone Chism (D) and Special Enforcer: ‘The Japanese SuperDestroyer’ Yamamoto Tanaka (D) O’Beck Bahama (D) vs. New Age Sensitive Guy Blaine Thomas-Taylor (D)

The match is delay when Chism grabs the microphone from ring announcer Kimber Marshall and rants about the fact that he holds a title but O’Beck Bahama is considered the Democrat’s number one wrestler.  Chism says he’s getting tired of being disrespected and demands that Bahama relinquish his #1 slot to him.

Bahama, of course, tells Chism to stick it in his ear.  Chism attacks Bahama while ‘New Age Sensitive Guy’ Blaine Thomas-Taylor tries to play peacemaker.  Thomas-Taylor gets a Hollywood Blockbuster from Chism for his troubles.

Then Tanaka attacks both Chism and Bahama and there’s a three way brawl in the ring.  Finally, PCW Executive Committee Chief Harry Reid (D-NV) and former PCW Competition Committee Chief Nancy Pelosi (D-NV) rush down to the ring to separate the three.

Suave: “There is no love lost between Chism and Bahama or Tanaka.  None at all.  Chism’s responsible for costing both Bahama and Tanaka the PCW title at one time or the other.”

Finally, PCW Security hits the ring and tears Tanaka, Bahama, and Chism away from each other.

Suave: “For all the stuff about the Republicans squabbling, don’t forget that the Democrats have their loony wing as well that doesn’t get along with the others.”

Suave references the Andrew Sullivan article in Newsweek  which has on the cover this week the caption “Why are Obama’s critics so dumb?”  and then turns it over to Steve Hunter for a new feature on PCW…

Steve Hunter’s Three Sentence Political Commentary- because three sentences is all you need to get your point across.

TOPIC: Andrew Sullivan’s Newsweek article

Sullivan’s article in Newsweek is thoughtful and well worth the read.

The same can’t be said for the idiotic caption on the cover that could have come from the editorial department of MSNBC.

Really Newsweek, I thought only Fox did stupid stuff like this…allegedly.

BACKSTAGESnooki aka Nicole Polizzi of Jersey Shore fame tells PCW Investigative Reporter Woodward Bernstein that Donald Trump should be the next President of the United States.

Snooki: “I thought Trump was gonna run.  But he’s not, right? I would endorse him and vote for him.”

Snooki continued to ramble on until PCW Women’s Champion Valora Salinas (I) ran in and decked her with a steel chairshot.

Bernstein: “Thanks…I think.”

MAIN EVENT: ‘American Citizen’ Kevin Scott (R) w/’The Massachusetts Redblood’ Mitt Romney (R-MA) Texas Jack w/Rick Perry (R-TX) Jim Schmidt w/Ron Paul (R-TX) The Right Rev. Randy Richardson w/Rick Santorum (R-PA) K-Roy w/Newt Gingrich (R-GA)

Richardson, urged on by Santorum, starts the match on fire and nearly eliminates K-Roy right out of the box.

Schmidt is sluggish from the get-go and ends up being the first one eliminated.  Not a good night for the Ron Paul-ites in the audience.

After Richardson’s hot start, it’s Texas Jack who gets it in gear for the first time in months and starts to kick serious ass all over the ring.   He hooks up with K-Roy and they brawl from one side of the ring to the other.

Like Mitt Romney, ‘American Citizen’ Kevin Scott plays it cool and stays out of trouble for the most part.

Richardson runs out of gas and gets tossed by K-Roy.  Newt Gingrich cheers while Rick Santorum does not look pleased.

Towards the end of the match, Romney is talking with Johnny Suave at ringside and calls the Gingrich super PAC flick the ‘biggest hoax since Bigfoot.  Then Romney calls ‘McCain-Feingold a disaster.  Suave then reminds Mitt that McCain is his biggest, high profile endorsement and sure enough, McCain comes out.

In the end, Kevin Scott gets distracted and allows K-Roy to push him over the top rope and out of the match.

McCain and Romney talk as they head to the back.  Scott is not pleased.

Down to K-Roy vs. Texas Jack; Newt vs. Perry.

Texas Jack on his game but K-Roy is even more sharp tonight.   Texas Jack misses a Texas Lariat and K-Roy hits a K-Bomb and makes the cover.  Newt jumps in the ring and assists the referee in making a proper 1-2-3 and K-Roy wins the match.

Winner: K-Roy @ 11:26

Suave: “Not the greatest night for Romney.  Newt gets a little momentum headed into Saturday’s match at South Carolina Slaughter.   We’ll see you Thursday night for PCW Politics is War on P-SPAN.”