#not pictured: the disastrous aftermath

[abisalli]

surely, this is a good idea social media AU part 2 starring: the Core Four!

bonus: 

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟏𝟎   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   NAKAWE, OCTOBER 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

The costume party’s aftermath—and it had, finally, been confirmed to have been a costume party, a basic clarification that quieted some of the clamor around the princess’s attire—reinvigorated interest in the last several months of Leonor’s life. A disastrous spectacle had that kind of effect. It made observers ravenous, and they scavenged the bones of past controversy even after the latest scandal was picked clean. Old news received new scrutiny. Yesterday’s gossip, gossip from six months ago, took on a whiff of freshness by association. And, it was impossible to talk about Leonor’s unprecedented behavior without calling the obvious trigger for it all by name.  No one actually talked about Safya, however, because they wanted to talk about Renzo instead.

❧ i've had this scene in my head for a long time, and i am just ... i love the domesticity of it ! i love the juxtaposition of beatriz doing serious policy homework while she watches garbage television, mocking matias in one breath and calling him a genuine term of endearment in the next,

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

The costume party’s aftermath—and it had, finally, been confirmed to have been a costume party, a basic clarification that quieted some of the clamor around the princess’s attire—reinvigorated interest in the last several months of Leonor’s life. A disastrous spectacle had that kind of effect. It made observers ravenous, and they scavenged the bones of past controversy even after the latest scandal was picked clean. Old news received new scrutiny. Yesterday’s gossip, gossip from six months ago, took on a whiff of freshness by association. And, it was impossible to talk about Leonor’s unprecedented behavior without calling the obvious trigger for it all by name. 

No one actually talked about Safya, however, because they wanted to talk about Renzo instead. 

He was a man in triplicate: the evocative film actor to whom Uspana’s culture critics were warming thanks to an unexpected performance with international acclaim; the subdued, even sedated, interviewee whose quiet remarks revealed his humble upbringing; the tempestuous, aggrieved celebrity whom cameramen provoked in the streets. Popular attention focused on the latter without fail, and this predilection went into overdrive once he acquired an unlikely sidekick. They might have imagined their princess attached to other versions of him, smiling at film premieres and taking a sudden interest in arts patronages. It was astonishing to see her consumed instead by the one they knew best. 

How had she so quickly and thoroughly become part of this sensational scene—become comfortable clinging to the worn sleeve of his jacket while he shouted at photographers, offering them vacant and conciliatory smiles as she wobbled on foal’s legs. It was astonishing, and it was thrilling. Very few saw the sight firsthand, but published pictures and televised clips made, for the masses, an introduction. Abbreviated in the tabloid headlines where she now lived, Princess Leonor, their heir’s heir, their queen’s “little shadow,” had become “Princess L.” Respectable outlets still reported on her work alongside her uncle. Yet, Uspanians didn't much care. They were far more likely to see Princess L., illuminated by flashbulbs and inseparable from the man her aides refused to call anything other than “a friend.” 

Daytime programming uncorked these discussions and asked the questions neither straight newscasters nor late night hosts could truly entertain. Foresa led that pack for a reason. Her show was entertaining, but she invited Uspana’s midday viewers to join her conversation as if she were an aunt pontificating in their living room instead of a stranger on a screen. Laughing and ribbing her studio audience, she kept the tone light and playful. Her words themselves were flippant and careless and cutting—“a mishandled knife,” one of those culture critics had once said of her. A callous aunt attacking a neighbor might rub her relatives the wrong way, but Foresa’s targets were fair game. Shaming only went so far with the nation’s richest and most powerful, but it did make her humble viewers feel good. 

Queen Beatriz was no humble viewer, but she was a faithful one. Her schedule made it impossible to watch Foresa during her recurring daytime slot, but the queen had been one of the first people in the country to acquire home taping devices in the 1970s; she watched VHS recordings of daytime talk shows in the evening, preferring it to dignified evening news and late night comedy hours. Although her family knew well of her interest, the world of daytime television only had vague, unsettling hunches. Beatriz had met Foresa at a party once but pretended to have no idea who she was or what she did. It was plausible. She was still clawing her way out of obscurity at the time, trying to convince her channel executives that 1988 would be her year. At the end of the conversation, Beatriz commented innocuously on a segment in last airing. Foresa stood red-faced and silent as the queen abruptly walked away. 

She didn’t share her relatives’ discomfort with the shows, but Beatriz understood it. They all had thick skin. They were not, however, the kind of masochists who enjoyed hearing dozens of voices laugh while a nobody bullied them by name. Or, they had more discipline than that. Whatever curiosity they had, they stamped it out to protect themselves. If it was worth knowing, it would come summarized in a report the next morning. Beatriz didn’t fall into those traps either. What she had was a perverse ability to laugh along with the cruelty. She was shameless. No one said anything she wouldn’t say herself, but their room of writers and impeccable comedic timing ensured it was much funnier. That was what their queen wanted at the end of a long work day. She put her tired, abused feet into comfortable slippers, curled up with briefings for the next day of work, and pushed in a tape. She wanted to be entertained—to have light made of problems that aggravated and vexed, to be given permission to exist outside of her role as matriarch.

TRANSCRIPT:

[Television intro music]

FORESA (O.S.) | The royal experts are saying it’s a “suffocation” method. What an exciting term! And for something so boring. They’re just shutting up and hoping we all forget. The fire metaphor does suit the drama, I must say. I’d like to do my PR with that kind of flair.

FORESA (O.S.) | Anyway, look, I want to talk about them. That’s right. Because there is a “them,” isn’t there? You know it. We love it. Why be so coy—[Audience reacting] That’s what I’m saying! Come on, lovebirds.

FORESA (O.S.) | He’s had a good publicist for the last six months or so—her doing?—and this Sharon Greenwater—she’s Simerican, too, I guess—refuses to say a word. What’s he paying her for? To say “We’re waiting for the right project” or “He wasn’t charged for that, actually,” over and over again? [Audience laughs] Meanwhile, Princess L.’s been mute, too! So, we don’t know. Really, we don’t, but we can spec—

BEATRIZ | Do we know? MATIAS | Know what? About—? Ah. Well, she doesn’t talk about it—not to me. When she answers my calls, oh, it’s exactly what you’d expect. BEATRIZ | No, we don’t speak on the telephone. What does that mean?

MATIAS | Reticent, I suppose. I gather she doesn’t want me to worry, and she doesn’t want to be honest about things that she imagines I would find objectionable. Which, I do find that unfortunate, because I like to think that I’ve always tried to be— BEATRIZ | Uh huh.

FORESA (O.S.) | We always get these fun photos of them out and about. Doesn’t it just make you jealous? If I got hit with a flashbulb at one o’clock in the morning, on the way out of a party, no less, I wouldn’t look that cute! [Audience laughs] Eightieth birthday party, actually! Renzo Ledford is friends with the Josèp Amador. Small world, huh?

BEATRIZ | I like him. MATIAS | [scoffs] Of course you do. BEATRIZ | It makes sense to me. He’s real. Arturo? I did not get that.

FORESA (O.S.) | —thinking that we might get our royal wedding after all! Of course, I’m sure she’ll be wearing some kind of trashy sheer mini dress instead of a princess ball gown—and mini dresses, on a girl with legs like that? Someone break the bad news to her—and he wouldn’t wear nice patent leather shoes if his life depended on it, but still—

BEATRIZ | A man like that is not joining this family. MATIAS | What, now you wouldn’t have him? BEATRIZ | Ah, ah. He wouldn’t have us.

BEATRIZ | There are always contingency plans. A page from the Blanca playbook, I would think: stint at the Bancroft Center, cry for Inti Rivera at six o’clock, out to pasture, a foal or two— MATIAS | Birdie …

BEATRIZ | If you think your “help” is working, fine. Foresa is right. Still, oh, maybe she’s the exact same little girl—not a damaged orphan of a woman, like she seems—and is just waiting for old, gentle, credulous grandfather to make it all better. One more awkward phone call ought to do it. Doubtful but, well, it’s not my time to waste, is it?

[christian-oc-tournament]

Please vote based on the picture AND the description!

Daniel Grace [Shades of War @evelynmlewis]

Daniel is a talented hacker who recently signed up at the DNAA (Dralinian National Aeronautics Academy) in the hope of getting into their acclaimed Science division. The problem is that when he joined there wasn't a war, and now there is. Daniel now has to worry about being drafted into the Combat division if he doesn't get high enough marks. (my boy is NOT athletic.) Just when it looks like he's about to be forced to go die in war, his superiors approach him with a third option. Become a spy for them by infiltrating enemy forces undercover as tech support. Unfortunately Daniel is a plaything of his higher-ups in multiple ways and after the mission in book one goes disastrously he finds out that the original plan involved throwing away his life, and he becomes very bitter. Despite being acclaimed as a "hero" in the aftermath of book 1, he decides he will no longer do anything do help the war effort and it's not his problem, even if his help is desperately needed to save the country - he claims no longer to care about anything except his girlfriend, Cass. That turns out to not be really true, though, especially when Barir Stelmer (his foil) attacks his hometown. Part of Daniel and Cass's joint arc is unlearning their juvenile, unhealthy and self destructive obsession with each other and learning to love in a way that puts God first.

Daven [Artorbis @epnona-the-wisp]

Daven likes stories. And bears. Also food and tree climbing and his new younger sister. He thinks life is very fun except for when it contains things like chores and books with hard words that take actual effort to bring the plot out of them. Recently he’s been having nightmares—but Mama says that’s pretty normal for kids his age. His best friend is Granny—the old woman who lives in the woods. She seems to have lost her own grandchildren, but Daven is happy to fill in.

[ribbonsaikeaux]

The Aftermath

Faith and Julia smiled at each other adoringly; gently nuzzling each others' noses. Around them, doll parts are laid out and ready to inspect.

"This is so exciting!" Declaired Faith. "Our own little doll." She smiles dreamily, squeezing Julias' hand.

"Remember, we're taking turns on the parts okay?" Julia responds, returning the squeeze.

"I knooow." Faith says with a giggle. "You go first!"

So they started the building process. Julia picking out red hair and deciding on a peach collered tone for the plastic body; Faith picking out deep brown eyes and a cute little doll head with a button nose and slightly upturned lips. Satisfied, they placed the shell in the center of a ritual circle; sitting on either sidd and holding hands. The pair chanted, magic pulsing in the circle emiting a soft lavender light.

The doll blinked slowly, gently tilting its head; experimenting with the movements of its ball joints. Shakily, it stood, wobbling unsteadily for a moment before firmly planting its feet.

Faith tittered, clapping her hands excitedly while Julia leaned in and hugged the newly risen doll.

"Welcome to the world little Thread." She whispered in the dolls' ear.

"Thank you so much Misses!" Thread shouted jubilantly.

Time went on and the three started collecting memories. Days at the beach, picnics in the park, hiking through the forest, dinner with the witches' friends. Pictures taken and hung up or put on the mantel from all of their fun adventures. Everything was always so fun and loving. That is untill...

Thread looked up at Julia, fear growing in its eyes. The Misses were screaming at each other, but it couldnt understand why. The voices were too loud, the words too fast for it to understand.

"Misses, please stop!" It shouted in desperation.

Julia paused for a moment. "Go to your room Thread." She said in a low growling voice through gritted teeth.

"But Miss Julia it-" the doll was cut off as Julia grabbed its arm and drug it down the hall. The doll sobbed as it was dragged and tossed in its room, the sound of the door slamming echoing in its ears.

The yelling raged on outside Threads' door. Screaming and shattering and explosions threatening to rip its door from the hinges. The doll sobbed and cried; tears streaming down its face as curled into itself and rocked back and forth. Eventually, exhaustion overtook it and it fell asleep.

Thread stirred, its head pounding. There was silence in the house now. A very unsettling silence. It opened the door just a crack and peaked through it. Nothing. It slowly wandered out; taking halted steps down the hall out into the living room.

The scene was disastrous. Furniture was split in half, walls covered in scorch marks, shattered glass from broken picture frames and vases carpeted the floor. Almost all of the pictures of the three were ruined of destroyed, save one. Tears once again whelled in Threads eyes as it kneels down and picked up two halves of a picture of itself and its Misses. It was from the dinner they'd had to celebrate the first year of its Making. It was torn in a way that seperated itself and Miss Faith from Miss Julia.

Thread silently cried, hugging the halves to its chest as it wandered across the house, finding Faith in the Misses' bedroom.

Faith, whose face was red and stained with tears reached out her arms. Thread silently climbed into her lap and leaned against her chest.

"M-miss Faith? Wh-where's Miss Julia?" It asked through shuddering sobs.

"I dont know dear..." Faith replied, biting her lip to hold back her own sobs.

"Wh-when will sh-she be back?"

"I dont know dear..."

The two once again broke down crying in each others arms. Squeezing and clinging desperately to each other in their shared despair.

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

What happened when a meteorite the size of four Mount Everests hit Earth?

Billions of years ago, long before anything resembling life as we know it existed, meteorites frequently pummeled the planet. One such space rock crashed down about 3.26 billion years ago, and even today, it’s revealing secrets about Earth’s past.    

Nadja Drabon, an early-Earth geologist and assistant professor in the Department of Earth and Planetary Sciences, is insatiably curious about what our planet was like during ancient eons rife with meteoritic bombardment, when only single-celled bacteria and archaea reigned – and when it all started to change. When did the first oceans appear? What about continents? Plate tectonics? How did all those violent impacts affect the evolution of life?

A new study in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences sheds light on some of these questions, in relation to the inauspiciously named “S2” meteoritic impact of over 3 billion years ago, and for which geological evidence is found in the Barberton Greenstone belt of South Africa today. Through the painstaking work of collecting and examining rock samples centimeters apart and analyzing the sedimentology, geochemistry, and carbon isotope compositions they leave behind, Drabon’s team paints the most compelling picture to date of what happened the day a meteorite the size of four Mount Everests paid Earth a visit.

“Picture yourself standing off the coast of Cape Cod, in a shelf of shallow water. It’s a low-energy environment, without strong currents. Then all of a sudden, you have a giant tsunami, sweeping by and ripping up the sea floor,” said Drabon.

The S2 meteorite, estimated to have been up to 200 times larger than the one that killed the dinosaurs, triggered a tsunami that mixed up the ocean and flushed debris from the land into coastal areas. Heat from the impact caused the topmost layer of the ocean to boil off, while also heating the atmosphere. A thick cloud of dust blanketed everything, shutting down any photosynthetic activity taking place.

But bacteria are hardy, and following impact, according to the team’s analysis, bacterial life bounced back quickly. With this came sharp spikes in populations of unicellular organisms that feed off the elements phosphorus and iron. Iron was likely stirred up from the deep ocean into shallow waters by the aforementioned tsunami, and phosphorus was delivered to Earth by the meteorite itself and from an increase of weathering and erosion on land.

Drabon’s analysis shows that iron-metabolizing bacteria would thus have flourished in the immediate aftermath of the impact. This shift toward iron-favoring bacteria, however short-lived, is a key puzzle piece depicting early life on Earth. According to Drabon’s study, meteorite impact events – while reputed to kill everything in their wake (including, 66 million years ago, the dinosaurs) – carried a silver lining for life. 

“We think of impact events as being disastrous for life,” Drabon said. “But what this study is highlighting is that these impacts would have had benefits to life, especially early on … these impacts might have actually allowed life to flourish.”

These results are drawn from the backbreaking work of geologists like Drabon and her students, hiking into mountain passes that contain the sedimentary evidence of early sprays of rock that embedded themselves into the ground and became preserved over time in the Earth’s crust. Chemical signatures hidden in thin layers rock help Drabon and her students piece together evidence of tsunamis and other cataclysmic events.

The Barberton Greenstone Belt in South Africa, where Drabon concentrates most of her current work, contains evidence of at least eight impact events including the S2. She and her team plan to study the area further to probe even deeper into Earth and its meteorite-enabled history.

IMAGE: Graphical depiction of the S2 meteorite impact and its immediate after-effects.  Credit Nadja Drabon

[phoebenpiperx]

Having recently posted my HSM4 fic here, I went back and reread all my old fics on fanfiction.net and thought others might be interested in them as well.

15 of the fics were part of a series called Extra Innings that were all written by me and a friend immediately after HSM2, exploring the relationship between Ryan and Chad that started with the baseball dance # “I Don’t Dance”. I also deal with Ryan's relationship with Sharpay a lot as well as his friendship with the other Wildcats.

See below for links to my HSM fics (in the chronological order of the show).

Inspiration= A missing scene from HSM1. Kelsi observes the Evans twins rehearsing.

Musical Auditions= Sharpay and Ryan discuss what musical they'd like to perform in next.

Fantasy Football= Ryan's decided to go out for the football team, and Sharpay realizes why.

Extra Innings stories

Wildest Dreams = Ryan is upset that his team didn’t win the staff baseball game, but running into the Wildcats—especially Chad—in the locker room afterwards cheers him up.

Hanging Out = After the baseball game, Ryan finds himself welcomed by a new group of friends.

Dancing Lessons = The dance lessons weren't going as well as either boy had hoped. Perhaps it was time to try a new tactic.

Fever = A sweltering dance lesson, a kiss, and the aftermath. [6 chapters]

Oh Brother! = Sharpay tries to come to terms with a recent discovery about her brother.

Advice = Ryan seeks dating advice from friends and family. A continuation of our other ChadRyan stories.

First Date = Chad and Ryan have a disastrous first date, but all's well that ends well. [The final Coda is rated Mature.]

Second Date: Bowled Over =Chad and Ryan's second date is comandeered by Wildcats.

Ryan's Musical Revue = Sharpay decides it's time to introduce Chad to Ryan's past lives...all the roles he's played.

Karaoke Night = Sharpay invites Chad and Zeke to join the twins at Wednesday Karaoke Night.

Clueless = After Gabriella calls him "Clueless", Troy tries to pay more attention to his friends...and discovers something about Ryan and Chad.

Back To School = The Wildcats return to school for their senior year after the summer at Lava Springs. Has everything changed, or is it back to the old routine? [3 chapters]

Freaky Friday = The students of East High get to walk a mile in each other's shoes during a school-sponsored Freaky Friday event. [5 chapters]

Family Courtside = Mr. Evans takes Ryan to a basketball game as he tries to deal with the fact that Ryan is dating Chad.

Double Skate = Sharpay goes on her first "date" with Zeke. [4 chapters]

RHPSM = Chad attends a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show with his friends. Chad/Ryan. Please note: coarse language and references to a rated-R movie -- may not be appropriate for younger readers!

--

canon to HSM3:

Obvious = It's obvious why Ryan and Chad are reacting differently to their high school graduation. Inspired by Hey Monday song "Obvious". My HSM4 fic is canon to this one.

A Last Huzzah = It's only days since graduation, and Ryan and Sharpay are discussing their summer plans.

Nov 15, 2008: Txting Txting 123 = It's November 15, 2008, and the Evans twins are communicating across the miles. [In November 2008, a law called Prop 8 was passed in California which took away the right for gay couples to marry! On Nov. 15, millions of people across America participated in marches protesting this law—I researched the marches in each of the cities mentioned so they’d be accurate.]

Just Desserts, a sequel to Txting Txting 123 = A sequel to "November 15, 2008 -- Txting Txting 123". Everyone's home from Thanksgiving and eager to talk about their experiences at the "No on Prop 8" rallies.

Spring Musical Awakening = The Evans twins are each cast in a production of their colleges' spring musical production of "Spring Awakening". Dialogue only, but based on an R-rated musical so beware. [2 chapters]

Concert Chaos = Ryan and Sharpay go to see JONAS in concert!

HSM4: The Reunion = It’s the 15th anniversary of the best class ever, but the returning East High Wildcats aren’t quite as happy as they should be. A lot has changed, but there’s some things that never do. Maybe getting the whole gang back together was just what everyone needed. [based on HSMTMTS s4; canon to HSM3 & my fic Obvious]

--

set post HSM2 – Rated Mature!

Dancing Now = After the Star Dazzle show, Ryan hooks up with Chad...fully aware that Chad isn’t really interested in HIM.

Only Time Could Tell, a sequel to Dancing Now = Immediately follows Dancing Now, showing how Chad redeems himself after betraying Ryan.

[blowflyfag]

WWE SMACKDOWN MAGAZINE: SEPTEMBER 2005

MNM

“WE’RE GOING TO BE BIGGER THAN ELVIS”

By Keith Elliot Greenberg

You might say that MNM is rewriting history one snapshots at a time. Each time one of the paparazzi snaps their picture, it helps their star shine just a little bit brighter. In fact, they enjoy having their picture taken so much that they named their fishing move the Snapshot. And similarly, every time they nail the move, it brings them one step closer to becoming one of the greatest tag teams of all time.

With each victory, the trio becomes more and more resentful of those who apparently dismissed MNM as a fad that would soon fade. In the August issue of Smackdown! Magazine, Nitro said, “We're going to be bigger than Elvis, bigger than the Beatles.”

When you make statements as pompous as that, it’s understood that many will root against you. But MNM expected contempt from opponents, as well as the fans they’d derided as “too weird, too fat, too stupid, too scared, or too damn normal.” Now the trio believes their harshest detractors are the same journalists and paparazzi profiting from covering the electrifying new tag team.

“I have plenty of admirers in high places who’ve told me what these weasel journalists utter behind our backs,” Melina says. “I heard that some even started a pool over whether we’d be on a losing streak by the time the August issue of SmackDown! On sale–and guess who’s on the cover?” 

To a degree, Melina’s self-righteousness is reasonable. After all, many observers initially tagged MNM as the team more famous for its look than anything else. Even before their first match on SmackDown!, MNM was trailed by photographers more intrigued by the threesomes' unique appearance than its achievements.

When Nitro & Mercury captured the WWE Tag Team Championship in their very first match, the popular consensus was that the gold would slip through their fingers right away. They were too arrogant, too shallow and too inexperienced to remain at the top of the tag team ranks. Somehow, MNM proved all their critics wrong. And, now, when the paparazzi appear, there’s a legitimate reason why the pictures are in such great demand. 

In April, the team came out of nowhere and captured the titles from Eddie Guerrero & Rey Mysterio–two proud Latino stars not accustomed to getting bested by untested talent. Although tensions had been simmering between Guerrero & Mysterio already, the loss sent their relationship into a tailspin. The two were soon bitter enemies, and when they reconciled for one night to challenge for MNM’s championship, the result was disastrous.

In the aftermath, Mysterio was plagued by troubling doubts, while Guerrero appeared to be possessed by demons. Meanwhile, MNM’s light only burned brighter. 

“That’s what we do,” Melina says, “We take the icons you people have chosen to worship, and we reduce them to nothing. We’re competitors, baby. And when you compete, some people lose and some people win.” “We happen to choose the latter.”

That was made abundantly clear when MNM tangled with Heidenreich and his new “friend,” Road Warrior Animal. The cocky young tag team held their ground against Animal–at one time one-half of perhaps the greatest tag team ever-refusing to be intimidated by his legendary status.

“The Road Warriors, The Midnight Express, The British Bulldogs, The Dudley Boyz, all those tag teams everyone talks about as being so great,” Melina says. “Yeah, they were probably all right in their day, but that’s the past. This is now. MNM is the tag team of the present, and of the future. Deal with it.” For Melina, that aggressive spirit extends outside the realm of tag team combat. Repelled by the notion that her fellow WWE Divas are paragons of beauty, Melina has used both violent language and sadistic behavior to diminish their status.

In one memorable confrontation with Michelle McCool, Melina actually asked her boys to remain backstage. Melina then tore into the athletic blonde with an aptitude that matched the newcomer’s managerial abilities. In the end, Melina survived a dropkick and a spear. But as her opponents straddled the ropes, punching downward, Melina shook off the bows, snatched Michelle, and defeated her with a powerbomb. 

Even among MNM’s enemies, there were immediate comparison to other females who established themselves in WWE as managers, but ultimately transcended the role.

Today, for instance, few recall that Trish Stratus actually entered WWE as the manager of T&A–the hulking duo of Albert (later A-Train) and Test. Like Melina, Trish drew fans with her good looks, but she had greater ambitions. After she struck out on her own, she dominated the Women’s Division.

Parallels have also been made to Sunny, the stunning cover girl who shepherded several teams to tag team gold in the mid-1990s. In the process, she gained a reputation as a woman who pretty much attained anything she desired. 

Others theorize that Melina’s career may most closely resemble that of Sensational Sherri. At different stages, Sherri managed Shawn Michaels, Randy Savage and Ric Flair, and also held the Women’s Championship.

Yet, those who focus on Melina fall into the trap MNM hopes to set–diverting opponents away from the strengths and weaknesses of Nitro & Mercury.

Mercury all but admitted this recently when he told a reporter, “While our opponents are busy thinking about Melina, talking about Melina, and, yes, fantasizing about Melina, Johnny and I can pretty much step into that ring and do whatever we want to them.”

Because of their early success, Nitro &N Mercury’s potential is sometimes compared with the records of other WWE newcomers who swiftly rocket to the top of their profession. But such comparisons mean little to them.

“We hear people comparing us to guys from back in the day like Kerry Von Erich, because he burst on the scene and won the Intercontinental title right away,” Mercury says. “But those people just don’t get it. Bon Erich already established himself years before when he beat Ric Flair for the NWA title. Unlike the ‘Texas Tornado,’ we walked into WWE cold. We came out of nowhere and shocked all the so-called experts.”

“I mean, sure there were Superstars like Kurt Angle and Brock Lesnar who came here and won titles right off the bat, but even those guys didn’t do what we did,” Nitro says. “Angle was an Olympic gold medalist; Lesnar was an NCAA Champion. WWE fans had no idea who we were that first night, when we debuted in Madison Square Garden. But we changed all that by winning the WWE Tag team titles that same night. Now, everyone knows who we are.” Perhaps it’s more appropriate to measure MNM next to Carlito, who won the U.S. Championship in his first SmackDown! match, or Christian, who earned the Light Heavyweight title in his WWE debut. Both came out of nowhere and very quickly grabbed the spotlight. And in both their cases, they have remained among WWE’s elite ever since.

“To all those people who say we got lucky, I have news for you,” Nitro says. “We were lucky the day we were born. Not everyone is blessed with the attributes we were given. And that’s too bad. But nobody says that life is fair. It’s not really our fault if we’re perfect in an imperfect world.”

It’s an attitude MNM carries on the red carpet and , as the results have shown, into the ring as well.

[doomxdriven]

While the Wandenreich Invasion as a whole was very destructive for the Soul Society, Gotei 13, and Amagai personally, it was, in a manner of speaking, fortunate for him in the long run.

Prior to the invasion, Amagai was preparing to carry out his own little scheme of retribution against Yamamoto, Central 46, and various elements of the nobility (Kasumiōji Clan being at the top of that list), but when the invasion happened, it forced him to put his plans on hold, and threw a wrench into a lot of what he had intended (especially his designs on Yamamoto, since you know, they got murked by someone else).

Had the Wandenreich not attacked when they did, thereby allowing Amagai to go ahead with his plans at the time, it would have wound up very disastrous for him, pretty much bar for bar with how things ended up in 'canon' (is it weird to refer to filler as canon? idk im not a scholar don't @ me).

Amagai would realize that, too ,in the aftermath of the Wandenreich Invasion, that he wasn't ready to carry his scheme out, and more than that, the realization that he still didn't have the full picture on a lot of things (one being the truth about his father and Yamamoto), leading him to adopt a far more steady, careful approach to his machinations within the Gotei 13.

Post Blood War, it's still unclear if Amagai will wind up achieving what he wants, but as time goes on, his chances only get better.

[bjax27]

|It started with a Cheese Grater!| Total Drama All Stars II

Word Count: 7,615 Words (This one, might actually be worth eating some pizza with)

Link to the previous chapter:

https://at.tumblr.com/bjax27/salty-sea-ships-total-drama-all-stars-ii/cco9m2rtaf0n

“Last time on Total Drama All-Stars TWO!” Chris said excitedly.

“Our campers were rudely interrupted in their sleep by yours truly! We had a beautiful blood moon in our last challenge and I couldn’t resist getting some pictures. By me, I meant our contestants of course! Each of the teams gathered at the dock, received supplies, and set out to explore our islands. The Glamorous Golden Eagles didn’t do much of anything interesting in the previous challenge, and they got second. However, it was the Otters who won their first game after two straight elimination ceremonies! In the end, our military brat Brick was sent home after a disastrous night out on the water, via crazy gal Izzy! This week we’re gonna dial things back and head to Chef’s kitchen for this week's challenge. Who has the guts to play in Hell’s Kitchen? Will our lovely season one competitors step it up? And lastly and most importantly who gets the boot after it all? Find out on this week's dramatic campfire ceremony on Total Drama All-Stars!” Chris flashed a smile and held up two fingers.

Optimistic Otters

“I haven’t eaten this good in weeks, this food is so good!” Cody said excitedly.

“I know, they even have vegan and vegetarian options too!” Cameron picked up a waffle piece with his fork.

“This is what happens when you win. Learn that feeling, cherish it, and keep moving so we can keep winning!” Jasmine said, taking her seat down at the table next to Cody.

“She’s right, we don’t have time to lose. We just now got the numbers even again” Duncan added.

“Not to mention who wants to turn up food this good!” Duncan shed a single tear, and the butler wiped it away before it touched his plate.

“I don’t know if I can get used to that,” Duncan said, annoyed.

Glamorous Golden Eagles

“…and that’s why I needed to talk to you. No that sounds stupid, I can’t say that” Trent paced around the communal bathrooms anxiously.

Just then Harold entered. It didn’t take long to figure out what he was talking about.

“Still thinking about how to approach Gwen?” Harold asked, startling Trent.

“Maybe, why?” Trent stopped pacing and started to look at Harold.

“From the times we spent together during the Drama Brothers days, you were pretty cool Trent, just be yourself, man,” Harold said causing Trent to pause.

“Thanks, Harold, that means a lot. But it’s not that simple, I haven’t talked to her since that aftermath show. How do I even approach her anymore?” Trent worried. He sighed and before he walked out of the communal bathrooms, Cody came in.

“What’s going on Trent? Still feeling weird about the team switch?” Cody asked

“Yeah I am, I know that everyone on our team is super buddy-buddy, I mean, besides Harold, I don’t think I can say anyone is my friend,” Trent said glumly.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I’ve made any friends on my team yet. I feel like everyone knows who they know, and aren’t really making an effort to make new friends” Cody said, and Trent nodded in agreement.

“In due time, in due time,” Harold said as the boys left the communal restroom.

Colossal Cobras

“Morning girls, are we ready for today's challenge?” Sky asked, stretching her legs on the rug.

“I would say that I am but the last challenge was a disaster. We couldn’t do anything right” Bridgette answered.

“Girl, what’s with you and Dave? That brother is always trying to participate in challenges, he may mess up sometimes, but he tries” Leshawna asked.

“You really wanna know?” Sky asked nervously. She was more focused on stretching her body as she did every morning.

“Well, why else did I ask girlfriend?” Leshawna cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, I don’t really know. He was into me for so long and I thought maybe I was into him too, but any chance of us working things out was killed after he found out about my terrible ex” Sky said disappointedly.

“Well if it makes you feel any better, Geoff and I have been through it all together. If there is saving our relationship after the many fights we’ve been through, you should be fine” Bridgette comforted.

“Well, do you like him Sky?” Leshawna asked.

“I mean, maybe? I just want to win this competition, but he’s such a dork and he’s so cute, and I… probably like him don’t I?” Sky blushed.

“I needed some obvious hints to get with Geoff. I’m glad that the other Killer Bass guys helped me realize that I should give him a chance. We’re still together all this time later. I would be so down to help you out with this, after all that’s what teammates are for!” Bridgette smiled. Sky got up and hugged Bridgette in response.

*Cuts to confessional*

“At first, I wasn’t thrilled to be here, but this season just feels different. Back at home, I didn’t really have too many friends, I was always competing or training. It feels great to know someone has my back” Sky smiled happily. *End of confessional*

Sky, Bridgette, and Leshawna walked into the dining hall, to join their other cobra teammates, as well as some of the otters.

Just then, Chris appeared walking into the dining hall.

“Good morning Campers! Today's challenge will be a lot more laid back considering how much you’ve been through lately. Doing two physically intense challenges is definitely not easy on the body heh heh” Chris said walking over towards the door to the kitchen.

“You're telling me, Chris, my body has never been this sore before. Especially after the boat crash!” Dave whined.

“You guys crashed your boat? Hardcore! Who was driving though?” Duncan laughed.

“Oh, it was…” Scott just then got up and pushed Dave off of the bench. Dave landed on the floor with a thud.

“Oh, it was him? Can’t really say I’m surprised” Duncan laughed allowed.

“I didn’t crash the boat! It wasn’t my fault!” Scott protested. Chris was starting to get a bit annoyed.

“Okay! Enough! Now for today's challenge, campers you will be making pizza! You will have to cook a pizza with the ingredients that were delivered this morning. Anything goes as far as the dough the pizza is made with, its shape, or its toppings. As long as it’s recognizable as a pizza, it works! Each team will appoint a head chef, and anything they say goes as they’ll have the last word. Once each team has made its pizza, Chef, our former all-star Sam, and I will be the judges. You have two hours after you’ve gathered your ingredients and appointed a head chef. Once your pizza is finished, you can use the outdoor pizza ovens to cook it. Once you are finished with that, prepare your pizzas for presentation and wait til the time is up. Good luck campers!” Chris then exited the dining hall.

“Well, I know for a fact who we are not appointing as head chef” Trent snickered. Harold nodded in agreement almost instantly.

“I know right!” Gwen started to laugh following Trent’s quick remark.

“HEY! It’s not my fault, whatsoever. People just don’t know how to listen! I have absolutely no control over that” Heather protested, receiving no help from her remaining teammates.

“Whatever, let’s appoint a head chef already! Personally, I think it should be Sammy, she's a neutral party to all of us” Courtney commented.

The Golden Eagles all looked over at Sammy, which made her a bit uncomfortable, but she was happy that the team wanted her to lead.

“Okay, so it’s settled then, Sammy will be our head chef. Now, c’mon let’s go get some ingredients” Heather left the dining hall on that note. The rest of the team followed, except for B and Dawn who waited for a little before leaving.

Dawn motioned B over to her and whispered something to him.

“Aren’t you tired of being ignored like this? We ought to do something about it. After all, our contributions matter to the team just as much as everyone else. Just because we aren’t recognizable, or outspoken, doesn’t mean our word shouldn’t matter” B nodded in agreement, and the pair left the dining hall. Leaving it empty, as the Cobras had already left prior to the mini-team meeting.

Optimistic Otters

“The ingredients to my surprise are pretty extensive, from places all over the world as well. Oh, fresh cheese!” Cameron then opened a container that was labeled “fresh cheese” and an odor followed.

“Definitely smells like fresh cheese, that's for sure.” Mike covered his nose, and quickly placed the lid back on the larger container.

“Do you guys know what pizza we should make? I was thinking we went with a Margherita flatbread, something that shouldn’t be too difficult to make” Cody said aloud.

“Not a bad idea Cody, all those in favor say, I!” Zoey approved.

“I,” said Cody. “I,” said Cameron. “I,” said Mike.

“Well, if it wasn’t obvious enough, I’m for the Margherita flatbread idea as well. But what about you guys? Lightning, Duncan, Alejandro, and Jasmine?” Zoey asked as her teammates looked around for ingredients.

“I say we make a Chicago-style deep dish! Can never go wrong with that!” Lightning suggested.

“I too, like a good deep-dish pizza, Lightning. I am in favor of Lightning’s idea” Alejandro interjected.

“Well, I don’t each much of any pizza, but deep dish pizza sounds like a good time, I reckon” Jasmine joined in to nearly even up the debate.

“Well, that leaves Duncan. What’s your choice? And we have to hurry, we can’t spend all of our time deciding on what to make” Mike looked toward Duncan, as did the rest of his teammates. Duncan shook his head disapprovingly.

“As if it’ll matter anyway. We just need to make the food look amazing, and taste at the very least, good. A deep dish doesn’t have the best presentation, since all of the cheese is under the sauce. However, flatbreads look better and don’t offer as much food. Tough call honestly. But I think we should be different and do a deep dish. They won’t see it coming” Duncan concluded, and his teammates were taken back a bit, by his analysis of the situation.

*Cuts to confessional*

“As a convicted delinquent, you probably wouldn’t want to take my advice on anything food related. However, this is one thing I don’t like to play around with, I’ve watched too many cooking shows and competitions to know how this goes. Not to mention we’re feeding gamer boy Sam, and I don’t think he’s gonna care too much about what the pizza actually is” Duncan said.

*End of confessional*

“I say, we vote Duncan, as head Chef” Cody said shortly after, the team made their decision.

“I’m honestly not mad at it. His insightful words on our choice made it really obvious” Cameron joined in.

“I agree, this just makes too much sense not to” Zoey added as well.

“Okay! I’ll do it, now let’s go people! Get some tomatoes, flour, several kinds of cheese, butter…” Duncan listed ingredients as each of the competitors got them in the same order he listed them.

Colossal Cobras

“We gotta bounce back after that horrible loss, so who’s gonna step up and be a head chef?” Leshawna questioned, and each of her teammates exchanged glances.

Dave attempted to raise his hand, and this time neither Shawn nor Sky attempted to stop him.

“Dave? Well, if no one else want’s to volunteer I guess that’s fine” Leshawn shrugged.

“No, I will be the head chef!” Scott sneered quickly at Dave, before looking over at Leshawna.

“I find it awfully convenient, that you want to be head chef, now that Dave offered” Bridgette commented.

“Yeah, and what’s it to you, surfer girl? I think I can lead this team to victory, and Dave won’t be able to” Scott took a shot at Dave who felt threatened. Sky placed her hand on Dave’s shoulder.

“Okay, listen here country boy! That brother Dave already apologized for his mistake. You however have not. I think you should take the passenger seat for this challenge. Or else, we’ll have more of a reason to vote you off if we lose again!” Leshawna got in Scott's face, and he scowled angrily.

“In that case, I am completely fine with Dave being our head chef. Don’t say I didn’t offer you guys though” With that, Scott briskly walked past Leshawna, and walked toward the ingredients truck.

*Cuts to Confessional*

“My inside source told me that, Chris is a huge fan of Hawaiian pizza, which is already a controversial opinion. However, with Dave leading this operation, I will keep my lips sealed. If we do lose today's challenge, he is the obvious choice for elimination” Scott crossed his arms out of protest.

*End of Confessional*

“Okay, Dave. So what do you want us to do for you!” Owen asked excitedly.

“Well… I say we start with ingredients, but the question is what kind of pizza?” Dave asked. Sky looked over and was moments from speaking until she was interrupted by Tyler.

“Two words. Meat Lovers!” Tyler said excitedly, and the boys on the team were satisfied with that answer.

“Sky? You seemed like you were about to say something, what was it?” Dave looked on concerned. Sky looked over at Dave and started to blush.

“Oh, right. I was thinking about a cauliflower pizza with vegetable ingredients. How does that sound everyone?” Sky said. The boys of the team seemingly disapproved aside from Dave, and Scott let out a devilish smile.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I am all for it, as a vegetarian myself,” Bridgette said smiling. She then raised Sky’s hand to the air before quickly putting it down again.

“I am fully prepared to live off MREs when the zombie apocalypse happens, so I am down to prepare whatever. Your call Dave” Shawn shrugged.

“Okay, well, in that case, I think we should go with Sky’s idea. It’s super creative, and the other teams might not think of it. However, I do like a good meat lovers pizza, just not this time gents” Dave finished speaking. The rest of the team at first seemed divided, but more than willing to go with the idea.

“Not my first choice, but lead us to victory Dave!” Owen said excitedly, he then picked up Dave and squeezed him into his large frame. Dave squealed in pain, but Owen continued squeezing.

“Owen! Put me down! We have a challenge to win!” Dave was then gently put back onto the ground, and the team started their trip to the ingredients truck.

Glamourous Golden Eagles

Courtney and Gwen were on dough detail. Trent and Harold were making the sauce. B and Dawn were working on slicing the toppings out to the appropriate length. And lastly Heather was by herself working on grating the cheese. Sammy was watching over the entire operation.

“I’m glad we decided to keep it simple, nothing beats a nice meat lovers pizza” Sammy smiled, and Dawn looked over begrudgingly.

“Hey, what did I do?” Sammy asked, looking over at Dawn.

“Oh, nothing. Why do you ask?” Dawn immediately changed her facial expression and seemed much more pleasant.

“You cannot actually be this dense! Did you watch her debut season at all? She’s all for the animals, like the weirdo she is. This meat lover's pizza idea was terrible. SAME-ey” Heather protested.

Just then Sammy looked over disappointingly. She hadn’t realized that Dawn felt so strongly about animals and wildlife. In retrospect, it would’ve been better to ask everyone on her team, and not take a majority vote.

“I guess your right. I should’ve asked everyone. It’s my fault everyone” Sammy said glumly, and Courtney and Gwen looked at each other and knew what their next course of action was.

“Sammy you gotta stick up for yourself, Heather is just being unreasonable. It can’t be expected that everyone here knows one another” Gwen chimed in. Just then Courtney picked up a hand full of wet flour and tossed it at Heather. Heather, now filled with anger, walked over to Courtney with a cheese grater, and Courtney smirked.

“You did not just throw flour at my top!” Heather got closer and closer to Courtney.

“I did because you shouldn’t talk the way that you do. There are better ways to communicate issues with your team members” Courtney continued to smile in front of Heather.

“Do you wanna go?” Heather asked.

“Bring it on!” Courtney challenged.

Courtney and Heather started fighting in the very clean kitchen. Each dodging and weaving punches, hair pulls, and various items being thrown at them. At first, Courtney was winning in dominant fashion, unsurprisingly. Gwen looked on, having no idea what to do next, just deciding to cover her eyes. Just then Heather swung the cheese grater at Courtney and she landed a significant blow to the head. Courtney then dropped to the floor, the side of her head was bleeding, and she slowly began losing consciousness.

“Courtney!” Gwen, acted immediately, shoving Heather away from Courtney. Even Heather felt remorse shortly after, letting the cheese grater go after she got up from the floor. It all set in afterward, what she had really done.

The team was extremely disappointed with Heather, even more so than usual.

*Cuts to confessional*

“I am okay guys, I promise! Just needed some medical attention. Ouch!” Courtney winced in pain while tapping her head.

“Courtney, are you even okay to walk outside of the confessional by yourself?” Sammy asked from the outside.

*End of confessional*

“Gwen, pretty self-explanatory, but get her to the medical tent,” Sammy said. After a short pause, Gwen, tried to support Courtney’s head, while B did the rest and helped walk Courtney to the tent.

“Heather! You are in the dog house for this challenge! I do not want to see you in this kitchen for the remainder of the challenge! Harold, Trent, take her out of here” Sammy ordered, and Trent as well as Harold walked Heather out of the kitchen. Heather walked away under her own power.

“Well, I guess it’s just you and me then Dawn. I am sorry about that, I should’ve asked everyone what they wanted to do. It’s still not too late to change the gameplan though” Sammy smiled, and Dawn approved.

“You are truly a sweetheart, you know that? If only you had received more attention as a child, then you would have reached your true potential” Dawn said casually.

“Uh- where did you-” Sammy was awestruck.

“Oh, it’s all over your aura. I thought everyone could do that sort of thing” Dawn shrugged. Sammy looked over at Dawn was casually slicing tomatoes, and didn’t know how to react.

“Ugh- such a disaster” Sammy slammed her head on the table and didn’t lift it up.

*Cuts to confesional*

“I almost feel bad for wanting to manipulate my team. However, I didn’t have to do much of anything this time, just throw Sammy off of her game since she was the only one left after that disaster. Courtney and Heather don’t mesh well together. Gwen and Trent have history, we’ll say. By the time Harold figures me out, he’ll probably already be eliminated. As for B, he’s too precious for this world, he can stay around. Poor boy, such a tragic past” Dawn strategized.

*End of confessional*

Just then, Trent and Harold walked back into the kitchen and looked over at what was left of the ingredients. Not much.

“Well, what do you suggest we do Trent? There is flour everywhere and no one here has even made the pizza dough yet” Harold walked over to the half-mixed bowl of flour and noticed some of Heather’s hair in it.

“Well, guys. I say we just make a nice plain cheese pizza. A majority of our ingredients are toast after that fight. We don’t have enough time to slice and cut toppings, since about an hour has passed, and we’re down several of our teammates. Let’s just see what we can do, with what’s left” Sammy lifted her head from the table, and sighed.

“Honestly, I think this is still salvageable. As long as we have something to present to Chris, Sam, and maybe Chef, we’ll be alright” Trent smiled sheepishly.

The four remaining players of the Glamourous Golden Eagles continued working on the now, plain cheese pizza.

Optimistic Otters

“Lightning, what is this?” Duncan asked.

“It’s the sha-sauce! What else could this sha-dang red stuff be?” Lighting protested. “Well, for starters, it looks really scabby and almost orange-colored. We can’t serve that! Not to mention, your like the only one who hasn’t finished their ingredients for our pizza yet!” Duncan said.

“I mean, if my opinion helps at all, it tastes a lot better than it looks” Mike shrugged.

“Well, if you wanna defend this sorry excuse of craftsmanship, and use it to help make our deep-dish pizza, then, by all means, go on ahead” Duncan protested, crossing his arms and moving around the kitchen.

“Zoey, how's the dough coming along?” Duncan walked over to her station. Zoey had just finished rolling out the dough with the rolling pin.

“Not bad, just get ready to put it into the pan” Duncan had approved.

“Jasmine, Cody, cheese is looking good. What kinds did you use?” Duncan asked looking over the bowl of freshly grated cheese.

“Isn’t all cheese just cheese…” Cody silenced Jasmine.

“We used a mix of mozzarella, and provolone, as well as bits and pieces of feta cheese to top it all off” Cody answered, saving Jasmine.

“Excellent, best news I’ve heard all this time. Alejandro, what do you have for me?” Duncan looked over at the cutting board filled with slices of tomato, pepperoni, and even a small mixture of buffalo chicken and red onions.

“Bro-migo! Since you didn’t assign me a specific task, I figured I would just have spare ingredients, we could use if need be” Alejandro said confidently.

“Not bad, at all. You get a pass today my friend. Now, let’s get to picking a topping for this thing, and finally, get to put it in the pizza oven, how about that?” The team rejoiced.

Colossal Cobras

“We did it! A nice vegetarian pizza. Time to put it in the oven!” Tyler exclaimed.

“I’m honestly surprised how smoothly this went, but we gotta get this thing in the oven first” Bridgette commented.

“Who's gonna do the honors?” Leshawna questioned.

“Well, I say…” Scott was about to interject.

“As head chef, I think it’s only fair that my man Shawn does it. He made the dough and even helped cut the toppings. He’s for sure got my vote” Dave said calmly.

Shawn smiled and lifted up the finished pizza which was already on the stone paddle and fully prepared to cook in the brick ovens outside. Carefully, he walked through the kitchen and made sure that he maintained a tight grip on the paddle as he walked outside.

Just then he notices Chris, Chef Hatchet, and Sam waiting at the judging table.

“Those babies are fired up and ready for ya boy! Just pick your favorite and put the dang pizza in there Shawn!” Chef broke Shawn's concentration, but not enough to drop the paddle. Shawn then carefully placed it into one of three brick ovens and briskly walked into the kitchen.

Just then Sam looked over at Chef Hatchet with a concerned look.

“What are you looking at tubby? I gotta make money somehow, even if it’s stupid comments like that!” Sam nodded at Chef’s response and he continued to play on his Nintendo switch.

As Shawn entered the kitchen his teammates awaited him.

Glamourous Golden Eagles

Courtney had just regained consciousness once again and awoken to Gwen standing by her bedside.

“What happened, where am I, and why aren’t you helping in the challenge?” Courtney asked. Gwen was surprised she regained consciousness so quickly, but the hit probably wasn’t as vicious as it had looked.

“Well Courtney, Heather knocked you out with a cheese grater, Chef had “diagnosed” you with a mild concussion, and then shortly afterward, you fell asleep for a little while, maybe around half and hour or so,” Gwen said.

“How is the rest of the team looking?” Courtney asked, feeling the bandages wrapped around her head.

“Not very good. Dawn and Sammy were basically the only ones who weren’t affected by this. B, left to go back and help once you made it here safely. Heather is outside, supposedly exiled for the remainder of the challenge by Sammy, and Harold as well as Trent have ensured it stays that way” Gwen gave a brief rundown.

Courtney couldn’t help but laugh hearing this. She slowly pulled the covers from the bed off of her and attempted to get up from the bed.

“Well, I suppose we should get back now huh?” Courtney smiled. As Courtney attempted to get up, she stumbled into an unexpecting Gwen. The two girls fell to the ground, creating an awkward situation. Gwen was inches away from Courtney’s face,

“I think you should sit this one out Court. You can’t even walk outside of the medical tent under your own power” Gwen who was under the pressure of Courtney’s body weight, attempted to stand up, and lift Courtney back onto the bed. With very little resistance from Courtney, Gwen was able to do so.

“Gwen, you know I hate being a sitting duck, but clearly your judgment is much better than mine right now. I can’t even fully stand up without someone walking with me. Just promise that you can lead these guys to victory. Oh, and tell Heather to eat some dirt” Courtney hopelessly laid back down into the bed. Gwen nodded and exited the tent.

As Gwen made her way back to the kitchen to see her Eagle teammates, she was immediately bombarded with questions.

“Gwen, how is she? I would ask B, but you know…” Sammy asked, and B crossed his arms into his chest.

“Well, she’s conscious. So it’s a start. I don’t think she’ll be any help completing the challenge though. She couldn’t even stand up under her own power” Gwen answered. Her remaining teammates frowned.

“Bummer, hopefully, she’ll be alright,” Trent said.

“Anyway, do we at least have a pizza to put in the brick ovens outside? Last I checked, we don’t have too much time left” Gwen asked aloud.

Just then, Harold had finished layering the sauce over the pizza dough, and Trent briskly walked over spreading the mozzarella cheese mix. The pair both raised thumbs up for approval.

“At least it looks edible. That’s a start. I just hope that we can finish this on time” Sammy buried her flour-covered hands in her face and looked dissatisfied.

“We’ll just see what happens. It’s completely out of our hands now. Based on everything that happened it could be so much worse” Dawn attempted to comfort Sammy to no avail.

Harold took the pizza and walked it outside to the brick oven. No one questioned him.

*Cuts to confessional*

“If I want to make things less awkward around my teammates, I’ve got to show I wanna win. But today, it’s safe to say someone’s going home on this team, regardless of my input” Trent shook his head.

*End of confessional*

Optimistic Otters

“I’ll take the pizza to the oven, bro-migo! It’s the least I could do” Alejandro said excitedly.

“It passes my inspection, so by all means, get it into the brick ovens outside,” Duncan said as he washed his hands at the sink.

Alejandro took the deep-dish pizza carefully out of the kitchen outside. Walking through the kitchen doors, and hearing faint sniffling behind the cabin. Deciding to place the pizza in the oven before looking to investigate.

“That makes three! All three pizzas at the very least made it to the oven!” Chris announced to the teams.

Alejandro, made his steps a little audibly louder than normal, trying not to scare the person crying. Eventually, he approaches a crying Heather a few paces further than behind the cabins.

”Chica, what’s wrong? Don’t worry, no one is anywhere near us, take a deep breath and I’ll listen, I promise. Alejandro placed his palm on her cheek.

“Ugh! You, the last person… I wanted to see, right now” Heather attempted to hold her emotions.

“Well, it’s not like you to be out of a challenge. Especially when you’ve got a team as stacked as yours! Now how are we gonna rematch in the finals if you’re crying the way you are right now mi amor?” Alejandro asked concerned. Heather wiped the tears from the remaining space on her cheeks that were not covered by the Spaniard's palm.

“I messed up, really bad. Like even worse than normal. This time I genuinely hurt someone” Heather stopped crying, but her eyes remained red and puffy.

“It can’t be any worse than you’ve called me before. However, I am listening” Alejandro took his hand off Heather's face, taking a seat shortly thereafter next to her.

“Well, Courtney and I got in a fight, as you can see by the flour all over my top” Heather started telling her story.

“Oh really now, I couldn’t tell by the runny black makeup marks all over it” Alejandro teased, getting playfully punched in the arm after his remark.

“Shut up! As I was saying, we fought. Things got really heated and I slammed a cheese grater on her head, causing her to get a concussion. Then Sammy temporarily kicked me off the team. I just don't know what to do, and I really wanted things to be different this time. I was sorry the minute the grater made contact with her stupid but smart, head” Heather concluded.

“That is bad, but listen, Heather, my mom would always tell us this whenever me, my brother, or my cousins messed up. ‘Que hagamos cosas malas no significa que seamos malos’ and the same applies here. Just say you are sorry to Courtney later. If she doesn’t accept your apology at least you can be at peace knowing you tried” Alejandro said. Heather wrapped her hands around Alejandro and pulled him in for a hug. Shortly after starting to cry again.

|Quick authors note| I tried to be nice with it, but using google translate was all I could do, anyway, this is what it says: (Just because we do bad things doesn't mean we are bad)

“It’s okay Heather, just take a few minutes, and we’ll walk back together” Alejandro embraced her, hugging back.

“Okay,” Heather said.

After a brief final preparation period from each of the teams, Chris called time and all of the teams met in front of the other judges.

“That’s all she wrote. Now, who would like to go first? Just kidding! It’s going to be the Glamorous Golden Eagles! Why? Because this is the worst they’ve looked all competition long!” Chris smiled after such a negative statement. Heather's ruined top with puffy red eyes to match. Sammy and Trent’s stressed faces and flour-covered clothing. Gwen and Harold ensured Courtney wouldn’t fall over, and Dawn and B were seemingly unaffected to top things off. The team wasn't anything less than a train wreck.

“As for the rest of you! Cobras, you're going second, last, and definitely THE least, the Otters. So the rest of you guys, scram! We don’t need everyone here watching us reveal scores” Chef yelled, startling Sam and causing him to drop his Nintendo switch on the table.

“Aww man, I was just about to three stock…” Chef interrupted Sam.

“Enough about the game tubby! You were paid to eat the contestants' pizzas, not play Super Smash Brothers!” Chef yelled once more. Sam took this as his sign to turn his Nintendo switch and face toward the Eagles.

“Wait, who do you main?” Harold asked.

“Rosalina and Luma,” Sam shrugged.

“Gosh! Seriously?” Harold scoffed.

“Well I've won countless tournaments with the pair so why wouldn’t I use them?” Sam shrugged once more.

“Anyway… what do you have for us Eagles?” Chris asked, unsure how to transition from such a random conversation.

“Well, it’s a cheese pizza!” Sammy said cautiously optimistic.

Harold placed the still-hot pizza pan on the table in front of the three judges. Next, B grabbed some hot crushed peppers and parmesan cheese from the inside of his jacket. Placing them on opposite sides of the pan. Then Dawn, placed some napkins down in front of the three to conclude their presentation. The three judges then grabbed a slice of pizza and placed each slice on their respective plates.

“First! The grease test.” Chris grabbed a napkin and placed it on his slice of pizza. The napkin was damp, but not completely soaked in grease.

“About what I expected at face value. Not too shabby” Chris then picked up his slice and felt the bottom of the crust until he was satisfied.

“A bit squishier than I would like, but it’s definitely cooked thoroughly” Chris shrugged.

“Alright, judges, let’s taste this now” Chris finished talking, picking up some parmesan cheese and placing some onto his pizza.

The Golden Eagles awaited ratings nervously. Chef was filled with disdain after only a few bites. Sam looked pretty satisfied. Lastly, Chris looked about the same the entire time he ate the slice.

“So, what do you guys think?” Sammy asked very nervously.

The judges walked away from the table and formed a quick huddle, discussing scores as well as thoughts and opinions. Once they returned, they all wrote their scores out of ten on a blank piece of larger poster paper.

“Just like how unoriginal the idea of a cheese pizza is, you have an unoriginal score to match. A six. I could take it or leave it. Not bad if this is the first time you guys have ever done anything like this” Chris shrugged.

“That was one of the most mediocre cheese pizzas I’ve ever had! four points” Chef shouted.

“It was good, not great. I would only get this pizza if it were a few minutes away from my house. 5.5” Sam concluded.

“With a combined score of 15.5 out of a possible 30 points, the glamorous golden eagles are a shoo-in for last place unless the remaining two teams crumble under pressure. Campers, you may return to your cabins, and you are more than welcome to take this leftover pizza with you”

“Thank you judges” Sammy frowned. Gwen took the remaining slices of pizza and walked off with her teammates.

*Cuts to confessional*

“That couldn’t have gone any worse. There’s no way the other two teams shat the bed so much that we get second place” Gwen facepalmed.

"I mean, I didn't think it tasted that bad" Courtney could be heard eating a slice from the outside of the confessional.

*End of confessional*

As the eagles walked off camera, the cobras came into frame lead on screen with their head chef Dave.

“Good afternoon judges! We have prepared an amazing vegetarian pizza. Including several vegetable toppings and a cauliflower dough base. Enjoy!” As Dave concluded his presentation, Sky and Bridgette placed the pizza on the table. Owen and Tyler then grabbed three empty glasses placing one in front of each of the judges. Leshawna then followed this up by pouring a blueberry açaí juice into each cup.

“Okay, so you can talk the talk, but can you all walk the walk?” Chris said, receiving a few confused expressions from the cobras.

“What he’s trying to say is, good work with your presentation, however, we have to see if the food is any good” Chef explained, and the confusion immediately went away.

The three judges, immediately three took slices from the pan without hesitation, placing them on their respective plates.

Without any further words, they all ate some of the pizza, analyzing the taste, texture, and location of the toppings.

“This is SO good! No further consideration from me, absolutely a 10. I’m sorry Hawaiian pizza but you have met your maker” Chris said in between bites. Eventually, he finished and took a swig of the juice.

“Not too shabby. Seven” Chef added.

“As someone who doesn’t eat much of any healthy alternatives, I must say this is simply exquisite. An eight from me” Sam concluded.

“I thank you judges, and if you are wondering what the juice is, it’s an açaí blend courtesy of Leshawna,” Dave said.

“Simply superb. For a combined total of 25/30, you have been guaranteed second place regardless of the pending results of the Otters. Now, this being said, I will NOT be offering you the leftovers of this pizza, as I will be having some of this later. Thank you. Now, come on in Otters, hopefully, you can match that energy” The Cobras cheered their way off camera.

“Yeah, baby! That’s what I’m talking about, that was so awesome!” Owen cheered.

“You know it Big-O! Up top!” Tyler and Owen slapped hands in the air.

“Now that’s how it’s done, keep this up and we’ll be winners once more,” Leshawna said.

“Now how about a round of applause for our head chef Dave!” Bridgette exclaimed. The group clapped their hands and Dave immediately blushed.

“Thank you everyone for giving me a second chance, I know it wasn’t easy to trust me after the last challenge,” Dave said. Bridgette nudged Sky.

“Dave. You were amazing, you helped lead us to victory and that counts for a lot in my book” Sky smiled.

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without you all” Dave remained humble.

*Cuts to confessional*

“We have a decent chance to win, and I scored brownie points with Sky! This couldn’t get any better, things are finally starting to go my way” Dave squealed with excitement.

“Dave is that you bro?” Tyler asked from the outside of the confessional.

“No, I think you’ve got the wrong guy… heh heh” Dave smiled sheepishly.

*End of confessional*

“Lastly, the Otters, let’s see what you got” Chris announced.

“Well judges, be prepared to have your socks knocked off because we made a meat lovers' deep dish” Duncan said.

Zoey prepared the pan in front of the three judges, soon after, Mike and Cameron came around with three empty glasses.

*Cuts to confessional*

“Since we didn’t have adequate time to make our own presentation as well as include a drink for the judges, we could at the very least match the Cobras” Cody confessed.

*End of confessional*

Lastly, Cody poured orange soda into each of the cups and quickly moved out of the way.

“Alright, so far so good. It smells great, and the sauce doesn’t look too bad.” Chris said.

“Ahem! Did we forget something here otters?” Duncan asked.

“Oh, quit your fuss, I’m right here! Just had to grab it out of the kitchen is all” Jasmine walked out of the kitchen with a block of cheese in hand, as well as a grater. She made sure that each pizza had an adequate amount of freshly cut cheese on top before back into place with her teammates.

“With no further interruptions, let the eating, commence!” Chris announced. He was the first to take a bite of the deep-dish pizza, and his face remained rather still throughout his time eating.

Chef and Sam were actually enjoying themselves eating the Otter's pizza. Once again, when the three finished eating, they called for a quick huddle. Afterward taking their respective seats, and wrote their scores under the table.

“I thoroughly enjoyed this one, so a nine seems appropriate” Chef shrugged.

“Likewise, I’m with Chef, so a nine will do it” Sam added.

“Okay, guess it comes down to me. Well for starters, I don’t know who made the sauce, and who approved it, but it could’ve used some work. However, I want to give props for creativity as well as execution. Even still, can’t go any higher than a six, sorry” Chris concluded.

*Cuts to confessional*

“Are you fu-” Duncan shouted angrily, before he threw his pocket knife at the confessional camera.

*End of confessional*

“Unfortunately, a 24/30 is not enough to win today, but a commendable effort nonetheless. Cobras win! Heads up, you guys are safe from elimination” Chris exclaimed.

*Several hours later*

“Glamorous Golden Eagles, what happened out there today? Seriously. I was worried about you guys. You guys are my stars of the show, the cream of the crop, the top one percent, the…” Chris was interrupted by Courtney.

“Will you just get on with it already? I don’t think anyone of us wants to actually be here right now!” Courtney exclaimed furiously.

“Okay, okay, okay, Courtney due to her unfortunate injury with a cheese grater catfight in the kitchen earlier, is immune to elimination. Injury trumps all everyone” Chris tossed a marshmallow at the side of Courtney’s bandaged-wrapped head causing her to wince in pain.

“That and, let's be real. Nobody and I means, nobody here is getting an MVP award. You guys performed terribly. Now get your miserable butts in line for the voting booth” With that being said, the eagles lined up one by one to prepare to vote.

The peanut gallery containing the Colossal Cobras looked on with anticipation.

*Inside the voting booth*

“Heather. No point in asking around” Courtney said.

“Two, count 'em, two for Heather” Gwen followed.

“In a roundabout way, I think Sammy caused a majority of this fight in the first place. Plus, exiling Heather was pretty mean” Harold shrugged.

“I’m genuinely torn about who to vote for. Do I stick with my guns, or do I make a move that will get me brownie points with one of my friends” Trent said worriedly.

*Voting concluded*

“Voting was very split tonight, but that’s not my choice to make! B and Dawn are safe. Also, the least harmed from today's action, I’d bet” Chris tossed the pair a marshmallow each.

“Trent” Chris tossed a marshmallow in his direction.

“Harold” Chris tossed another marshmallow.

“Bottom three, Gwen, Sammy, and Heather. Who will it be?” Chris said.

“Well, I can tell you this for sure. Our fan-favorite goth will not be taking the escape pod home, not yet anyway” Chris tossed Gwen a marshmallow and Courtney looked over with relief. “The final two. Sammy, you weren’t a particularly good leader today, you didn’t consult all of your teammates, and that lead to a huge fight in the kitchen. Furthermore, you exiled Heather for the remainder of the challenge, pretty petty to do, as she’s one of your stronger members. As for you Heather, you concussed Courtney with a cheese grater and was unable to participate in today's challenge due to said exile. The votes were close, very close” Chris said as he picked up the final marshmallow, discarding the tray into the nearby bushes.

The camera quicked panned onto Sammy and Heather's emotionless expressions.

“Courtney, I am sorry, even if you don’t accept my apology” Heather looked over, and Courtney just scoffed.

“SHHHSHHHSHHHHHHH! Your wrecking it, don’t say a word! I expected better of you, season-one veteran! Anyway, let’s start at the top. The person going home tonight will be…” Chris intentionally dragged his final statement out once more.

*Suspense building further*

“Sammy. Determined by a matter of one vote, you are our fourth contestant eliminated” Chris tossed the final marshmallow to Heather who accepted graciously.

“I can’t believe that you get to stay here another day! If it were my choice, I would’ve sent you home” Courtney said angrily. It was only a matter of time before an uproar occurred between all of the team members.

“Sammy,” Gwen said sadly.

“Your chariot awaits, SAME-ey” Chris taunted.

Sammy looked over at her former teammates and smiled. Walking over to the dock and towards the escape pod. She heard the yelling and screaming coming from various voices, all except B and Dawn of course. Gwen walked over to the dock, just moments before her exit.

“Gwen, I thank you for believing in me. Tell Courtney that fighting Heather anymore would be pointless, we all know she’s gonna win when it comes to a physical or mental contest” Sammy continued to smile, before shortly letting out a laugh.

“Oh, I will” Gwen started to laugh as well.

“Sammy! Wait up” Unexpectedly, Jasmine came sprinting down the dock, and towards the pair. “Jasmine!?” Sammy asked, very astonished.

“Yes, it’s me. I heard everything, and Sammy it’s alright. You did your best, even if the others don’t see that. Love ya heaps girlie, maybe we can take a trip to Maccas one day, you and I, as friends” Jasmine took the unsuspecting Sammy in for a hug. They quickly let go, and Sammy hugged Gwen, and then she walked over to the pod.

“What he doesn’t know is. I have the actual remote” Chef laughed deviously.

“Goodbye cruel archipelago!” Sammy yelped from within the pod, as it sped off.

The camera panned in on Chris as his chaotic background was constantly moving.

“With that, the unpopular twin is gone! Find out next time who’s going home on Total Drama All-Stars, two.” Chris concluded.

Voting Breakdown:

Gwen: Heather Courtney (Immune): Heather Trent: Sammy Harold: Sammy B: Sammy Dawn: Sammy Sammy: Heather

Sammy: 4 Votes (Eliminated)

Justin (Eliminated 27th) Topher (Elimination, via cheating, 26th) Brick (Eliminated 25th) Sammy "Samey" (Elimination 24th)

[brittlebutch]

Alright! So, that fic about that disastrous first day of school when Erin’s eight got me thinking: If Peg’s quietly enduring all that shit from the other moms to try to get her a good education, maybe she isn’t the only parent doing that. It’s possible Erin’s not the only kid who’s singled out for being “different,” and any other kid in a similar boat would probably reach out and try to make friends.

I started thinking about some solidarity happening in the aftermath of that, and I came up with a concept that you can absolutely take or leave: A physically disabled girl—I’ve been picturing, like, a limp—in Erin’s class/grade reaching out to make friends the next day, and the solidarity being instantaneous.

Again, there’s no pressure, feel free to take it or leave it—this plot bunny just wouldn’t leave me alone until I dropped it in your askbox, and (at least in my case, growing up) I feel like physically disabled/NT solidarity is a pretty common thing.

(And also the mental image of Erin bringing this kid home for a play date—and said kid immediately imprinting upon Hawkeye because A: he’s a cool, funny adult, and B: he’s like Erin, which means all three of them have a little in common—is both hilarious and fluffy as hell. Just—I could totally see him slowly amassing a gaggle of adoptive kids with every new friend Erin makes.)

—MASH!Anon

Oh love that; it's actually very similar to a fic that I was trying to write that never got done - Erin making friends with a young gay boy in her class when they're in 4th/5th grade; if i ever wind up circling back to finish that one, it would be So great to integrate this idea in there as well, since all of the fics in this series have been split up into 3s so far!

as a bonus i'll put in an exerpt of that WIP that i've dug out of an old notebook :3 (bullying tw tho)

[Context: Erin saw this boy being knocked around by some classmates and told her teacher, who broke it up, but the classmates shoved her into the mud as retaliation for 'trying to get them in trouble']

"Do you need help?" someone asks, and Erin freezes because she does not know if they are only waiting to be mean or not. She stays silent, and they sigh. "You do. Come on, I can get the mud out."

She doesn't really want to go with them, but she knows that the bathroom is the right next step anyway, so she follows, tense with anticipation for what they might spring on her.

But the boy only checks that the bathroom is empty before pulling her inside, turning on the sink, and examining the stains on her sleeves critically.

"It'll be easier if you take it off," he says, but Erin shakes her head fast. The last time someone asked her to take off her sweater so that they "could take a look at it", they had run off and hid it. The teacher said that maybe it was good that she took a break from it for a while, and only made the other kids give it back when Erin started crying so hard she almost made herself sick.

The boy shrugs, and pulls Erin over to stick her whole arm under the running water, carefully scrubbing at the fabric with his fingers, and it reminds Erin of Hakweye - the way he washes her sweater and his robe together in the sink, as gentle as possible to keep the fabric from all wearing out.

"I have to wash the mud outta my pants all the time when they push me," the boy explains suddenly, startling Erin with the sound of his voice. "My mom would get so mad if I let them all stain."

That's when Erin recognizes him. "You are the boy they were kicking," she says.

He winces - "Sorry," he mumbles. "Does it bother you that a homo's the one washing your clothes?"

Erin thinks of Hawkeye. "No," she says, but doesn't elaborate. She understands her parents' secret even more now, and this boy might be kind, and he might even be the same, but Erin doesn't know him enough to trust him. "My name is Erin," she adds belatedly.

"I'm Danny."

[bllsbailey]

Biden Takes a Blowtorch to Obama in New Book

Bob Woodward has a new book, War, about the inner dynamics of the Biden White House, some of which you probably guessed to be true in the long four years we’ve suffered under this man. It paints a picture that’s become familiar: an angry old man, not in control, and holding seething resentment toward pretty much everyone, including Barack Obama. It captures the baffling arrogance of Mr. Biden, who has never done anything remotely significant to earn such a demeanor. 

We learn how he refers to Donald Trump in private—“that f**king a**hole”—and how he rages against his former boss, even blaming him for the Russian invasion of Ukraine, and his lengthy diatribes against Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. It can all be grounded in one simple truth: Biden hates these men due to political differences, perceived lack of experience, like with Obama, or because no one listens to him, as with Bibi. 

That’s some high school nonsense, though it highlights how weak this presidency was and how it could be easily brushed aside. That vulnerability partially is why it was so easy for top Democratic Party donors and congressional leaders to push Biden out of the 2024 race in July. Nancy Pelosi, who isn’t even speaker, wields more power than Biden. The best is Biden seething at Obama over Crimea and having the stones to tell BiBi he has no plan in Gaza. Joe, negotiating with genocidal terrorists isn’t a plan either. Your way led to nowhere, a perfect analogy for your public career in its entirety, and you’re just as much a bumbling fool as Obama was abroad—talk about the pot calling the kettle black (via CNN): 

In his new book, legendary journalist Bob Woodward offers a remarkable look behind the scenes at President Joe Biden’s blunt, profanity-laced assessments and interactions with the world leaders who have shaped his presidency, from Benjamin Netanyahu to Vladimir Putin.  “That son of a bitch, Bibi Netanyahu, he’s a bad guy. He’s a bad fucking guy!” Biden declared privately about the Israeli prime minister to one of his associates in the spring of 2024 as Israel’s war in Gaza intensified, Woodward writes.  […]  In the aftermath of the October 7, 2023, attack on Israel, Woodward describes the roller-coaster relationship between Biden and Netanyahu. While Biden supported Israel publicly, he fought with Netanyahu behind the scenes over how Israel was conducting the war in Gaza.  “What’s your strategy, man?” Biden asked Netanyahu during an April phone call, Woodward reports.  “We have to go into Rafah,” Netanyahu said.  “Bibi, you’ve got no strategy.” Biden responded.  […]  Biden told Netanyahu on a call to “take the win,” though the Israeli prime minister pushed back. “You don’t need to make another move. Do nothing,” Biden said.  In the end, Israel launched a limited, calibrated strike against Iran, which Biden considered a win.  “I know he’s going to do something but the way I limit it is tell him to ‘Do nothing,’” Biden told his advisers, according to Woodward.  But Biden’s frustration with Netanyahu boiled over as the war continued to escalate.  “He’s a fucking liar,” Biden said privately of Netanyahu, after Israel went into Rafah, Woodward writes.  “Bibi, what the fuck?” Biden yelled at Netanyahu in July after an Israeli airstrike killed a top Hezbollah military commander and three civilians in Beirut, according to Woodward.  “You know the perception of Israel around the world increasingly is that you’re a rogue state, a rogue actor,” Biden said to Netanyahu.  Netanyahu responded that the target was “one of the leading terrorists.”  […]  After the disastrous US withdrawal from Afghanistan, Biden received a commiserating phone call from another member of the president’s club.  “Oh boy, I can understand what you’re going through,” Bush said to Biden. “I got fucked by my intel people, too,” Woodward writes.  Ahead of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Biden complained that Obama didn’t do enough to stop Putin in 2014, when the Russian leader invaded Crimea.  “They fucked up in 2014,” Biden said to a friend, according to Woodward. “That’s why we are here. We fucked it up. Barack never took Putin seriously.”  Biden added, “We did nothing. We gave Putin a license to continue!” Biden was angry: “Well, I’m revoking his fucking license!”  Biden has remained hands off with the Justice Department. But privately, Woodward reveals the president’s anger at the prosecution of his son, especially toward his attorney general. “Should never have picked Garland,” Biden once told an associate, Woodward reports. “This is never going to fucking go away,” Biden complained.  Woodward also describes a scene between father and son at the White House in the spring of 2022. The president was having dinner with a friend, when Hunter Biden came in, sat down and began talking about why he was the person with the most to lose from the midterm elections.  “Hunter rambled on about his personal crisis,” Woodward writes. “President Biden leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and sighed.”  It’s no wonder why nothing got done. Joe Biden was either too stupid to know what to do, or spent his time consumed with resentment that not one listened to him. What a burden that must’ve been. The portions about Merrick Garland I find especially entertaining since this man used the Department of Justice to interfere in IRS investigations into Hunter.

The Biden presidency is weak. The president is unqualified and lacks the temperament. The other reason Biden wanted the war in Gaza to end was that it was killing him with young voters in crucial swing states. Biden has been wrong on everything, especially on foreign policy, for 40 years. That’s why he’s not taken seriously. And he has zero standing in bashing Obama—both men are idiots. Both backed the Iran nuclear deal, which was a failure. Biden reportedly didn’t support the special operations mission that killed Osama bin Laden. 

Go to bed, Grandpa; people smarter than you are trying to keep the world together. Also, Biden’s security team thought Putin would use nukes in Ukraine. Really?

It was just an overall incompetent operation we had for four years. I’m shocked we’re all still here, to be honest.

[fujobrainrot]

Part 2: Devastation has come

Read part 1 here

This is still unbeta-ed. Concrit welcome.

-----

Summary: In the aftermath of John's confrontation with Sam, John and Dean try to keep going as usual, but nothing is ever that easy.

He almost had his baby back, safe in his arms. He felt his touch. Heard his voice. Now it’s all gone, all gone, his boy is gone again, off to god knows where.

Title is from Speech Bubbles by The Smile.

-----

1400-ish words, implied unrequited Johndean if you squint (will develop further), temporary character death.

John drives in a stupor. He distantly feels the cooling mud on his face where he ran his dirty fingers trying to wipe away tears, but he’s too out of his mind for it to properly register. He almost had his baby back, safe in his arms. He felt his touch. Heard his voice. Now it’s all gone, all gone, his boy is gone again, off to god knows where. Probably with Ruby at this point. John gnashes his teeth at the thought of her. The image of Sam drinking from her arm invades his mind and he wants to swerve into the truck coming in the opposite lane. Instead, he slaps the steering wheel and lets out an embarrassingly loud sob. 

After some amount of time that John is in no state to identify, he pulls up into the parking lot of Albany Motel, first on the phonebook. Room 104. He can’t keep his hands steady enough to put the key into the lock, but after a minute of trying, it opens from the inside.

Dean’s eyes are wide, panicked, darting all over John’s face and body, his mouth slightly open and his complexion pale, like he’s looking at his father’s ghost. After a moment he seems to come back to himself and pulls John into a tight hug, letting out a heavy sigh against his father’s neck. “Where the fuck have you been?” He pulls away and holds John’s face between his hands, takes in the mud streaks and tear tracks and harsh lines. He continues, softer, “Dad, where were you? Ah - are you ok? Are you hurt?” 

John doesn’t respond, doesn’t know what to say, just shakes his head. I went to kill your brother. Dean will never forgive him, and John could not bear to lose his oldest too. He holds Dean’s wrists and pulls them away from his face. “I need a shower.” 

He can see in Dean’s face that he wants to insist, and John knows he will, later. The thing is, John does want to answer him and be truthful, respects him too much not to, but the consequences would be disastrous. He hadn't told Dean why they came to this place, only that it was ‘a personal matter’. Dean, ever the devoted son, wanted to question his father then just as he does now, but he didn't. John thinks for a second of what that means about the way he raised him, if it was fair to his boy to instill such obedience. He's an expert at avoidance and denial, though, so he quickly shoves the thought away into the do-not-touch box in his mind. 

Dean stays quiet. He moves behind John to close the door and then pulls John's leather jacket off his shoulders, hangs it on the hook next to the door, then moves on to the thick grayscale flannel John wears under it. John himself barely contributes, Dean having to move him like a doll. 

“Where is your gun?” Dean asks. It's not in its holster on his father's hip. John hangs his head low for a second, then starts to walk towards the bathroom.

Hot water, the hottest it will go, runs down his scalp, face, shoulders, and back as he just stands under the spray, but it barely soothes his aching body. Everything hurts in, but in a weird way, detached and cold and distant. He washes himself mechanically, thinking of what to say to Dean. The truth will set you free, he's heard a couple of times, but not this time. John predicts two things about Dean's reaction: first, he will leave. John can already picture the disgust, disappointment and rage that will color his son’s face. Second, he will set out after sam. He'll go to the ends of the earth in this mission and will inevitably put himself in grave danger. John knows that Dean would gladly die to get his brother back. 

In his white boxers and gray T-shirt, his usual sleepwear, John sits on his bed. Across from him sits Dean, looking deep into John’s eyes, defiant. Dean always sleeps in a too-big threadbare band shirt, soft pajama pants, and socks, no matter how warm it may be. Usually, he looks young, small, fragile like this, but now, with a hard look on his face, a deep scowl, he looks like someone John wants to pacify. Maybe that’s just his sense of guilt speaking, though. 

“You just gonna sit there then? Pretend I didn’t just see you in the worst shape you’ve been in years?”

John sighs deeply and runs his palms up and down his face. “Yep.” He winces internally at how casual that sounds. He’s never been good with words.

Dean rests his forearms on his thighs, looking at the ground between them. After a long moment of silence, he gets up abruptly and paces away from John, running both hands through his military short hair in frustration, a habit John’s always found cute. 

“Alright, whatever, if you don’t wanna tell me, fine.” He turns around, lets his arms swing by his sides and then throws himself on his bed belly first, bounces on the mattress. “Jim called while you were out rolling in the mud and crying.” John chuckles at that. That’s another aspect of Dean’s he finds cute, the sarcastic way he phrases things when he’s aggravated. “He asked you to call ASAP.”

A few years ago, John would have punished him for such disrespect - at least argued - but things changed between them, starting when Sam left them the first time. He feels a pang of guilt for thinking so, but that whole situation was great for their relationship. John wasn’t constantly on edge anymore, and Dean didn’t have to keep playing peacemaker. They started talking more, laughing more. But Dean was still his soldier. There was still a clear chain of command, and that meant a certain level of respect had to be maintained.

The second turning point for their relationship was when Dean almost died. The fear he had felt made him want Dean in a different way. As a friend, an equal, a partner. Not by fiat, but by mutual devotion and respect. That meant listening to Dean, taking his criticisms to heart, no place for pride or hierarchy. Besides, the image of himself rolling around in mud and crying is pretty funny. 

--- 

The night seems darker than normal, like all the light has been sucked out, so dim that even Dean’s trained eyes can barely see anything. He recognizes the shape of his father though, one side silhouetted by moonlight while the rest of him stays hidden. Dean points his gun, four silver bullets in his white-grip Colt, to the mass of fur moving around and against John. His eyes move frantically, his hands sweating as he tries to aim, but it’s impossible, he won’t risk hurting his father. 

“Now, Dean, shoot!” John shouts, but Dean still can’t make out exactly what’s happening in front of him. He hesitates. Less than a second later a nauseating, wet sound breaks, and a guttural, punched out grunt comes from within John. The hairs on the back of Dean’s neck raise, his fingertips go cold, and his vision steadies - he shoots and hits the werewolf right between the eyes. As it topples over, John goes with it. The scene becomes clearer as Dean moves closer: one of the creature’s hands, the whole thing, is embedded in the center of John’s chest. 

Dean palms his father’s cold face, slaps him once, twice, calls his name, sobs it out, but John’s eyes don’t move. His mouth stays open. Not a single muscle twitches. 

---

Azazel’s eyes shine like gold.

“One month”, the demon says, nonchalant. “And the gun.” Azazel is the only demon with enough pull to accomplish what Dean’s asking, there is no other way. Dean does his best to force down the bile rising in his throat. Timidly, he nods. Presents the Colt, the Colt, for Azazel to take with cold fingers that linger against Dean’s skin in unnecessary contact. He tries to think of John as dry lips press against his own in a mockery of a kiss. The demon isn’t satisfied though, and grabs Dean’s jaw and pushes his tongue past Dean’s lips, runs it over Dean’s bottom teeth, reaches his palate with the tip, insists on pressing his tongue along Dean’s. It smells like sulfur and tastes like despair.

[gabenvrhappened]

TheOldGabeOr... Swimming Pools, Lost Boy and Fools by Troye Sivan

Favorite Lyrics (Swimming Pools): So tell me how I'm gonna get past this wave to empty swimming pools? ⬩ Cause I just wanna be at the start of after loving you;

Favorite Lyrics (Lost Boy): I say I wanna settle down ⬩ Build your hopes up like a tower ⬩ I'm giving you the run around ⬩ I'm just a lost boy not ready to be found;

Favorite Lyrics (Fools): I see swimming pools and living rooms and aeroplanes ⬩ I see a little house on the hill and children's names ⬩ I see quiet nights poured over ice and Tanqueray ⬩ But everything is shattering and it's my mistake;

Other Favorite Songs: Bite, Ease, The Quiet, Cool, Talk Me Down;

Apple Music is just the best music streaming platform ever, and I'll die on that hill. This weekend I was organizing some music to the point I know my last.fm would be proud of me (if I still used it, anyway). While correcting tags and covers, I remembered a song from Troye Sivan that I really loved and always hated that it wasn't made available digitally: Swimming Pools. I was meaning to get back to his songs, but his new album didn't stick with me (as of now, at least).

Then I remembered this song, and it felt like perfect timing because I was recently into Lost Boy and Fools and decided to fully come back to the Blue Neighbourhood album. I'm all about imagery, and by now, it's clear that I love a bad-boy love aesthetic and headlights at midnight. Another thing I love is pools. Once they're full, and you're in it, it's like you're in another world, back to your roots. But what can we expect of it when it's empty? To me, picturing an empty pool, specially in the dark of the night, waves the feeling of solitude and reflection. It can be daunting if your perspective is in the wrong place. It could be the freedom of new beginnings or the fear of the unknown.

Nostalgia is what I get from these types of songs, most of the time from things I never even lived. To Troye, a empty swimming pool is the desired aftermath of a love that went wrong. You don't have a place to jump headfirst, but you also don't have tides trying to drown you out. And here comes the glimmer of hope as you drain the things you thought were good for you but are not. That's life in all its beauty. The highs never last, and it's the same for the lows. Just like I'm so used to do, the feeling is that we should hold on to hope and visualize greener skies and lighthouses calling our names, so one day it'll be true.

However, what will we do once we get there? To me, Lost Boy completes Swimming Pools in a whole way. At first, we want to be found or at least to find our way. If greener pastures and lighthouses seem like a comfort, is it really what we need or what we think we need? Visualize a future of shared happiness, pretending we want something to settle us down when, in reality, that's not exactly what we want. I resonate so much with this feeling. I'm a very individualist person, and I like to be alone and have my own company, but I would love to have the opportunity to share something meaningful, so I'm trying to get into that. But now I'm living in a house with friends, and it's so hard to balance everything and an ever-changing schedule. And I want so bad to meet new people, but I'm always second-guessing the matches I get on dating apps, even while being so in the lookout once I'm outside in the wild. It's a contradiction feeling that I've been carrying for years, and I'm yet to learn how to master it. as if it's possible.

That's when Fools gets into the mix and ties all together. I believe that part of my mixed feelings come from disastrous love. I know we need to focus on the good part of relationships, but the end is always the freshest thing in our minds, and the break always screams so loud because of our catastrophic minds. Especially when you're a fool that falls in love with just one look, creating expectations of a perfect fancy, yet simple life. Again, with swimming pools, added to drinks, planes, and living rooms.

Loving too much, however, it's always a problem. The weight breaks the ropes, and it's always your side that falls and shatters. Once I was born, guilt also born with me, so we walk sewed up together like siamese brothers. And then, the loop starts again, back to violent tide waves inside a pool that I want so bad to dive into, as swimming is the only sport I can do out of passion. Then, without me realizing it, I'm stuck in a blue neighborhood, facing the quiet that strings my heart, craving so much to find some ease into a chaotic life that I'm still trying to let go and be talked down.

[titanplumbingau]

Roof Leaks Here’s Why You Need a Certified Roof Plumber ASAP?

There's nothing worse than discovering a leaky roof, especially when unexpected rain showers decide to pay a visit. That ominous drip-drip sound can send anyone into a panic mode. But fear not, because there's a superhero for your leaky roof woes – a certified Roof Plumber!

In this blog post, we'll delve into the reasons why hiring a skilled Roof Plumber should be at the top of your to-do list when your roof springs a leak.

Leaky Roofs Don't Wait, and Neither Should You

Picture this: It's a rainy evening, and you're cosied up with a good book when suddenly, a drip of water falls right onto your book. Your immediate reaction? Panic! Leaks have an uncanny ability to show up at the most inconvenient times.

This is where a certified Roof Plumber swoops in to save the day. Their prompt response can prevent further damage and help you regain your peace of mind.

The Expertise that Matters

Not all heroes wear capes some wear tool belts! When it comes to your leaky roof, you need someone who truly understands the intricacies of roofing systems. A certified Roof Plumber brings a wealth of knowledge and experience to the table.

They can accurately assess the cause of the leak, whether it's a cracked tile, damaged flashing, or a compromised sealant. With their expertise, they'll diagnose the issue and implement the right solution efficiently.

Quality Workmanship Guaranteed

Imagine trying to fix a leaky faucet without proper plumbing knowledge – the result can be disastrous. The same principle applies to your roof. Opting for a certified Roof Plumber ensures that the repair work is carried out with precision.

Their workmanship is backed by industry standards and best practices, which means your leaky roof will be in good hands.

One Solution Doesn't Fit All

Every leak is unique, just like every superhero has their own set of skills. A certified Roof Plumber understands this and tailors their approach based on the specific problem at hand. They won't resort to a one-size-fits-all solution.

Instead, they'll craft a strategy that aligns with your roof's material, structure, and the nature of the leak. This personalised touch ensures a lasting fix that addresses the root cause.

Safeguard Your Home and Wallet

Ignoring a leaky roof can lead to a chain reaction of problems. From damaged ceilings and walls to mould growth, the aftermath can be costly and time-consuming to address. By enlisting the help of a certified

Roof Plumber right away, you're taking a proactive step towards safeguarding your home and wallet. The immediate expense of hiring a professional pale in comparison to the potential long-term costs of neglecting the issue.

Stress Less, Enjoy More

Life is meant to be enjoyed, not spent worrying about a leaky roof. By calling a certified Roof Plumber, you're not only getting a leak fixed – you're also gaining peace of mind.

No more sleepless nights wondering if the next rain will turn your living room into an indoor pool. With their expertise, you can confidently face rainy days, knowing that your roof is well taken care of.

In Conclusion

When it comes to roof leaks, a certified Roof Plumber is the unsung hero you need by your side. Their expertise, promptness, and dedication to quality workmanship make them an essential part of your home maintenance team.

Don't let a leaky roof rain on your parade – take action today and invite a skilled Roof Plumber to save the day!

So, remember: leaks wait for no one, but a Roof Plumber can swiftly come to the rescue. Whether it's a minor drip or a major downpour, their skills can turn your leaky roof back into a solid shield against the elements.

Don't hesitate; make that call and bid farewell to roof leaks once and for all!

Source: Roof Leaks Here’s Why You Need a Certified Roof Plumber ASAP?

[whatisonthemoon]

Moonie Opportunism During Typhoon Haiyan

▲ Pictured:  Tacloban City after being hit by Typhoon Haiyan

The Leyte Center for Development, Inc. (LCDe) is a non-governmental organization based in Tacloban City, Leyte, Philippines. During Typhoon Haiyan in 2013, LCDe played a significant role in providing relief and recovery efforts to the affected communities in Leyte. They distributed relief goods such as food, water, clothing, and hygiene kits to the affected families, set up temporary shelters, and provided psychosocial support to those who experienced trauma due to the disaster. LCDe's recovery efforts extended beyond the immediate relief phase. They helped affected communities to rebuild their homes and infrastructure, and also worked on disaster preparedness and risk reduction measures. LDCe was responsible for the distribution of fishing gear, farm tools, and seedlings. They also provided training on sustainable agriculture and livelihood skills to help affected families rebuild their lives. 

LCDe's work during Typhoon Haiyan was genuinely serving the people of Leyte. They focused on providing immediate assistance to those in need and also engaged in long-term recovery efforts to help affected communities rebuild their lives. LCDE's approach was community-centered and aimed to empower the affected communities by involving them in the relief and recovery efforts.

On the other hand, the Family Federation for World Peace and Unification (FFWPU) and the Universal Peace Federation (UPF) were criticized for their opportunistic approach during the aftermath of Typhoon Haiyan. These organizations raised money on behalf of typhoon relief, though it’s been said that their efforts were mostly for members of the Unification Church, of which 100 had lost their homes during this typhoon. They organized a "blessing ceremony" in Tacloban City and other affected cities in 2014, inviting the affected families to attend. The ceremony was marketed as a way to help the affected families find hope and healing after the disaster.

Local NGO workers not affiliated with the Unification Church claimed that the FFWPU and UPF's continued outreach efforts were only used to get affected Filipinos to attend their "blessing ceremony" and to promote their religious teachings. For many, this drew concern, as the Unification Church is known for its deceptive trafficking practices in the Philippines. Many saw their actions as both exploitative and insensitive to the suffering of the affected families.

During Typhoon Haiyan, the Philippine Government provided very little assistance as the shoreline flooded with dead bodies. As climate crises bring more frequent and disastrous weather to the Philippines, the government has had little to no response or plans for emergency infrastructure and aid. LCDe's work during Typhoon Haiyan was genuinely serving the people of Leyte, as they were present when the other local NGOs and the government were absent.  They provided both immediate assistance and engagied in long-term recovery efforts, and are still investing in communities recovery from this typhoon a decade ago. The same cannot be said about either the UPF, FFWPU, or any other UC-associated organization, whose “aid” was limited and exposed as a scheme to pump up their numbers, make it seem as though their efforts led locals to supporting the movement (to members and to politicians), and potentially create more trafficking victims, which the UC has done to thousands of other Filipinos in the last 30 years. 

Looking at the recovery efforts in Leyte reveal who the real enemies and friends of the people are. The Unification Church is no friend to the people of the Philippines. 

[thcorvi]

to end sirius black's loneliness, call 555— | s.b x reader

part i | part ii

pairing: sirius black x fem. snake reader

ao3, ff.net

a/n: this part is more sirius focused (loads of pads being a doting godfather with baby harry), reader shows up only at the very end. I'm trying to write shorter things so I can stop stressing over writer's block.

word count: 4.5K

summary: "Snuffles, I think I've found the perfect girlfriend for you to marry." Sirius blinked a few times. Pardon? That was the last thing he expected Harry to say at the moment. If it was Prongs, or Moony or even Remus' boss, Mrs. Lee, he wouldn't bat an eye. Ever since he had moved out of James' cottage, his friends hadn't stopped making small comments about every type of women they thought were 'oh, so perfect' for Sirius. Did he have some glowing sign on his forehead that read, 'Sirius Black is incredibly lonely and in need of company that lasts more than one night!'? Honestly…

The first time Harry brought it up was on a Monday afternoon.

The little boy was staring intently at Sirius, his head resting on the palm of his hand, as if he were deep in thought over— well , whatever what a four-year-old might find important at that age. It was adorable, Sirius thought, because the expression was so grown up, but his little cheeks were so chubby and baby-like , and his pudge little hands were so soft, that the man had an urge to bite it off.

Thoughts like those didn't even startle him any more, after all, Sirius had already been on his godson's co-parenting train for three years and who knows how many more yet to come. What his seventeen-year-old self would throw up for even picturing it, his twenty-five-year-old self didn't even bat an eye at it any more... Even worse, he fully indulged in it, guilt-free.

"Snuffles, I found the perfect girlfriend for you to marry."

Sirius blinked a few times. Pardon? That was the last thing he expected Harry to say at the moment, in fact, he didn't even know Harry knew what being married consisted of. Despite their conversations about Lily, Harry have always been surrounded by the most intimacy-avoidant type of bachelors to live — all in their special little way, of course, but scared shitless of serious relationship nonetheless. 

If it was Prongs, or Moony or even Remus' boss, Mrs. Lee, he wouldn't bat an eye. Ever since Sirius had moved out of James' cottage, his friends hadn't stopped making small comments about women who worked with them, or one of Harry's younger teachers, or whoever they were talking to that week, who they thought would be so perfect for Sirius to get to know.

Did he have some glowing sign on his forehead that read, 'Sirius Black is incredibly lonely and in need of company that lasts more than one night'? Honestly... Perhaps he was feeling a bit blue since he moved out, yes, the cottage was eerily quiet and that made him on edge, sure... But Sirius wasn't on his deathbed, he was only twenty-four years old, still extremely young—thank you, very much. If he wanted to find this oh, so great love of his life, he didn’t need to hurry now—if. Besides, he already had everything he needed; he had a job he loved, his family well and safe, and the precious little guy who eyed him from the other side of the desk.

Much more than Sirius ever thought he'd be able to have.

"Have you now, Haz?" he still indulged his godson, nonetheless. Not only because saying 'no' to Harry was something Sirius hadn't mastered yet, but also because the man couldn't deny feeling a bit curious over what Harry would consider 'perfect' for him.

Children always had the strangest ideas, and his godson wasn't trying to actually set him up, like his friends were—so this could be funny, instead of infuriating.

Maybe it was a mother of a friend, or one of the teachers at the Muggle pre-school he attended. It wouldn't be the first time a Potter had tried to pair him up with a teacher before, but Sirius wouldn't be daft enough to even think of considering it, after the aftermath of that disastrous first time.

"Mhmm, uncle Moony's lady friend."

Sirius took his attention away from the list he was reviewing in his desk. Moony's lady friend? Since when did Remus have any friends other than them? If the extroverted Sirius, who was all and about every single weekend, was considered lonesome, he couldn't even phantom what Remus would be called then. An eremite? A hermit?

Sirius searched his brain for any potential answer.

"Is it Lea from the supermarket?"

Harry shook his head.

"Mary from the bookshop?" No.

"Miss Neen?" No, again.

"Kiddo, uncle Moony haven't spoken with more than six women is his entire life. Aaand I just mentioned half... I don't know, I think you're making this perfect woman up..." Sirius teased.

"I'm not! Ask dad, he came to pick me up from uncle Moony's yesterday! She even bought me one of those chocolate oranges!" Harry argued.

Sirius put his hands up, "OK, OK ... So Moon's lady friend bought you chocolate... and what? I must marry her now, is that it?... That's been your evil plan all along, hasn't it?"

Harry giggled in his spot, shoulders shaking. The fact that the shop was basically empty at this hour of the afternoon, and that he had closed his office door earlier, made Sirius thank the gods momentarily; because the way that that little speck of a person has always been able to turn him into mush on the spot, would seriously tarnish his reputation forever... Not that James and Remus knew anything about this so-called "reputation" , but his employees and the rest of the wizarding world still respected him; they thought he was cool.

"You want me to suffer to indulge your addiction? 'Cos I can do it... Only if you're willing to pay the price of the… Hook!"

Green eyes widened from across the room, and Harry was getting up from his seat to try to gain leverage, squealing a, "Nooo! No, you don't need to marry her!"

His short legs couldn't save him from Sirius, who came jumping after him, picking Harry up and throwing him back on the couch. Harry's laugh intensified, whilst wiggling his legs, trying to break free. All in vain, as Sirius had already got him where he wanted, and started tickling the boy, who laughed and laughed.

It wasn't until Harry tried to say, between wheezing and callings, "Pads—I can't breathe," that Sirius let him go, plopping down beside him on the soft sofa.

The two were silent for a few seconds, Harry with his legs over Sirius' thighs as they both tried to catch their breath. Sweet Merlin, he seriously needed to start exercising soon—even Harry, who had smaller lungs than his, was already breathing normally and Sirius wasn't.

Yep, that's it. Jogging with James and quit smoking for good were this New Year's resolutions... since '82, OK, but Sirius had a feeling that this year would be the one he'd finally do it.

"She said my hair was metal and let me listen to music on her Walkman."

Sirius let a confused, "What?"

"Your future wife!" Harry replied, with a grin that was scarily similar to his father's, when he was up to no good.

"Oh, my future wife... I don't know, mate, based on what you're saying, sounds like she's more like your future wife than mine... Giving you gifts, complimenting that lion's mane..." he messed up the boy's hair.

A warm colour dusted Harry's cheeks, while he kicked Sirius' thighs with the hell of his foot, embarrassed. The older man yelped, giving the boy's calve a light pinch; Harry then took it as a challenge, trying to kick his godfather once more.

Sirius grabbed both of his legs by the ankles, grinning,

"Do you want a visit from the Hook again?"

Harry shook his head frantically, "No, no! I'll behave, I promise!"

The matter seemed to be buried there, as seconds later, Harry had got up and asked if he could play with Sid, one of Sirius' employees, in the front — the wife topic already forgotten.

The second time Harry brought it up was a week later, on a Friday.

That Friday in particular was an opening-the-old-bottle-of-expensive-liquor type of night. Remus had finally finished his first beloved manuscript, and they were going to have a family dinner to celebrate it... the only problem being that Remus himself was the best cook among them, and he wouldn't leave the bookshop until much tardier, so James was in charge of not ruining the dish until the werewolf got home... Well, at least they had magic, Sirius thought, and the risotto recipe Remus had scribbled down for them before leaving—step by step.

Sirius was sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by shopping bags, while flipping through a Muggle car's magazine. It was an old issue, not that interesting if he was being honest, but a bloke had come up to the store early that day and asked if they worked with 'the classics', so now Sirius was researching anything to do with those so entitled classics. Harry was sitting next to him, but on one of the chairs, as he sketched away in one of the empty corners of the table James had set up for him.

A nice, jazzy song was playing in the background, when Harry suddenly slammed both palms down the table, and said, "I forgot to show you something!", before bending down and shoving his hand inside his rucksack.

"Here," Harry reached out, stuffing a piece of white parchment almost up Sirius' left nostril. He jumped back exaggeratedly, making Harry laugh.

"Humpf, and what does this murder weaponry might be?" Sirius asked, taking the parchment and moving it a good few centimetres away from his face.

"It's a drawing, Pads," he replied as if it were obvious. "See, this one right here is uncle Moony, he's holding so many bags because we went to the shop. And this is—"

Whiffs of strawberry scented hair product attacked Sirius' nose, as Harry came up so close to him that wavy black hair began to tickle the older man's cheek whenever the boy moved around. Sirius patted the flies down, thinking that just like his father, Harry grew up with no sense of personal space and that if it were anyone else, Sirius would've done more than padding their hair down.

Perhaps he did have some deep-rooted intimacy issues…

"—I thought about drawing you two holding hands, but you never hold a girl's hands, so I decided not," Harry was still talking, gesturing to specific spots of the drawing.

Sirius then looked at the parchment in his hand, taking a closer look at the child's scribbles. To be honest, it wasn't that bad, Harry's drawings had improved a lot... Now Sirius could clearly distinguish who the humans were from the trees and other animals.

Painted in chalk was a field, a way too bright blue sky to be England, and in the middle several stick-figure people. Prongs was easy to recognize, by the messy hair, the glasses, and specifically the arrow that pointed down at him, written 'dad'. Beside him was Harry, holding a… brown ball in his hands—

"Why are you holding poop? Still having trouble reaching the potty on time?"

Harry snapped his head back with an angry look on his face, almost giving Sirius a ticket to St Mungus with a broken nose, "S'not poop! I just told you, it's chocolate orange."

Oh, he definitely still hadn’t mastered the potty.

"Harry has a poo-poo hand! Eww,"

As the boy hotly yapped something about Sirius being the one with the poo-poo hands, the man turned his attention back to the drawing. Remus was on the other side of James, really carrying several food bags in his arm. On the left, next to Harry, was another stick that since it had long hair, Sirius assumed was a woman, and leaning an arm over her head, was... he?

"Why am I using this woman as an arm rest?"

"Because uncle Moony said she's the perfect height for it. And look, she's frowning, because she is annoyed."

"Who is annoyed?"

James decided to show up just then, walking into the kitchen and shaking his wet hair all over the place, earning loud complaints from the other two.

"Now I am," Sirius said dryly, rubbing his shirt sleeve over his face.

Harry snatched the parchment from his godfather’s hand and turned to his father.

"Snuffles' girlfriend."

James' head had snapped around so fast, that all the drops of water Sirius had just wiped from his face, returned with strength.

"Pad— "

Before James could jump into hasty conclusions, Sirius put his hand up, "Don't —It's not that."

Great, Sirius thought, it was just what he needed right now. The two Potters banding together to make a mess of his life, not that they didn't do that already, but the Black men weren't known for having a large amount of patience.

"No? What is it, then?" James didn't seem to believe his best friend at all, looking at Sirius like one did at an insect under a magnifying glass.

"Ask your son, he's the one who's been saying he's found my future wife."

James looked from Sirius to Harry, taking in the annoyed face of one and the toothless grin of the other.

"I didn't say wife, I said girlfriend! But, daaaad ," the boy whined, "she owns a record store! And she likes me! And uncle Moony curses in front of her!"

"And is the perfect height to rest your arm on, which apparently is a very important quality for the woman of my dreams to have," Sirius rolled his eyes, pretending to be more miffed than he actually was, as he watched Harry hand over the parchment to James. Wait ...record store? And Moony being 'inappropriate' in front of a stranger?—

The adult Potter's cackles cut through Sirius' curiosity.

"Oh, this is pure gold. The woman of his dreams, you said?" James looked at Sirius, then looked at the drawing and burst out laughing again.

"Why are you laughing, dad?"

That was an excellent question, one that Sirius also wanted the answer to it, himself.

James then handed the drawing back to Harry, and shook his head with an idiotic grin on his idiotic face.

"Nothing, nothing. Life is just hilarious, sometimes."

The third time, it wasn't even Harry who brought it up — but his father.

It was on one of their weekly self-titled, "Grown-ups' Nights", which Remus had founded years before, when both of his friends had stopped on time, and James barely left their old flat, barely ate, didn't go out even if he needed to... He had to physically drag the two boys before and, now, every Friday night James would pay Molly Weasley a few Galleons — and her eldest, Bill, too when he was on Holiday— to watch over Harry for a few hours, while the three Marauders went off to do anything that wasn't G rated.

The men weren't as creative as they used to be in their Hogwarts years, and the adult world, as weird as it was to think about it, didn't have that many options for "adult fun" as it had for children—well, at least ones that didn't include anything sexual, or sort of illegal. James was an Auror, for Merlin's sake. And despise how much they loved each other, neither wanted to spend their Friday night seeing their friend pop a boner in the seat next to theirs... So you could usually find them at the Three Broomsticks. More specifically, in one of the back tables, where they'd always sat since their teenage years, sporting a few snacks and tumblers of Firewhiskey and Butterbeers on the table.

"D'you know, Moony... that Harry has been trying to set Pads up?" was what James had said mid-conversation, earning a high groan from Sirius on his left.

“For fuck’s sake, not this again!”

"Has he, now?" Remus asked. If he was surprised, he wasn't showing it; honestly, at some point or another Harry would start to pester Sirius about it too, it was in his blood... Well, no exactly blood, more at his home. They all lived tangled and messily put their noses into each other's business all the time, if there was a line somewhere, none of Harry's parental figures learned enough of it to pass it on to him priorly. "Is it... Miss Lynch?"

They both laughed out loud at Sirius' disgusted expression, after taking a big swig from his firewhiskey. Merlin had mercy on his soul! Miss Lynch was one of Harry's Muggle teachers, several years older than him, with a habit of wearing a horrid amount of perfume and smiling way too coquettishly at him every time he went to pick up his godson from school.

"Harry likes me, unlike the lots of you," Sirius scoffed, turning his face away theatrically. "Or not, since he's been yapping right and left about this witch since he met her—and all thanks to you, Moony."

Sirius had an ironic smile on his face.

He had a better sense of humour than that, Sirius swore. If they had made those exact jokes three months prior, Sirius would have topped it with one of his own, it'd be way too sexual and a bit disgusting, but just enough to make him and his mates laugh and have a good time… but it wasn't three months ago; they were making it now. And those jokes clearly came from a place of truth and worry, that was so annoyingly nonsensical in Sirius opinion. Goddammit, he was fine!

Remus frowned, one of his chips hovering mid-air, "Is it?"

"Yeah, hear this out Moony," James had a wide grin on his face as he laid his hand on Remus' shoulder, "Apparently, there's this lady friend of yours that is perfect for Padfoot... Perfect arm rest height, owns a record store, you curse in front of her... Ring any bell?"

There was a moment of silence where Remus seemed to ponder for a while, and then,

"Oh, Merlin—"

The werewolf couldn't help himself, and started to laugh through the hand covering his chewing mouth. James followed, throwing his head back and everything, making Sirius even more annoyed at being at the same time the butt and the one left out of the joke.

"That kid is brilliant," Remus said, between Sirius' grumbles.

The day Sirius met his so-called 'future wife' happened to fall on a gloomy Thursday.

His godson's picking-up schedule from pre-school was quite simple: Monday was Sirius' day, then the next it'd be James’, and that sequence would repeat on and on; and if for some reason, neither could get there on time, then Remus would leave the bookshop to pick up the little one for them.

Today was one of those days, where Sirius had sent a letter to Remus letting him know that he might not be able to make it on time, and so the werewolf was supposed to pick up his godson and stay with him at the shop until Sirius was able to get there.

His wristwatch read 16:30 by the time Sirius was able to even take a breather from the boring paper work, so he didn't even bother going to the muggle school to see if Harry was still there, since Remus was always the most punctual of them, the man knew he wouldn't be there any more. Since it was Thursday, and Thursdays were almost Fridays, which basically meant it was technically the weekend, Sirius decided he'd indulge a bit and stop by a bakery to buy some pastries for them to eat. Everything that his buff mate prohibited at the house on the weekdays. Remus would also like that, Sirius thought, since he probably didn't have anything besides his morning tea and that's it — that man had a horrid habit of not eating properly while he was occupied.

Opening the door to Remus' workplace with his shoulders, Sirius exclaimed, "I exchange goods for the nearest men's loo occupancy!"

The bookshop that Remus worked was located in a little street that vaguely reminded Sirius of Diagon Alley, but a muggle version. Scratch that, it didn't look that similar if he was being honest, excluding the fact that both consisted of a funnily narrow street with stores on both sides. It wasn't very big from the outside looking in, but the store had plenty of space inside; Lots and lots of wooden shelves dotted most of the space, books scattered at every corner, including Remus', who was standing behind the front desk.

He'd got this job exactly two years ago, which had solved most of his problems—well, at least the financial ones. The owner, Mrs Lee, a little lady Sirius believed to be bordering on seventy (not that he was certain, since he was gentleman enough to know not to ask a lady's age, and also because wizards and muggles aged differently), also had never had children, and since her husband had passed away, she was having trouble organizing the shop alone with only her niece to help. As an accident of fate, Remus had got lost in that part of London one day and ended up taking the vacancy the same day.

The werewolf didn't even lift his head to acknowledge his friend, muttering something incomprehensible under his mouth as he continued to write on a blue clipboard.

Placing the pastries box in a free corner of the desk, where there were no boxes of books waiting to be sorted, Sirius looked around… It was too silent… and his legs were devoid of little arms hugging it...

"Where is the prat?"

Remus sniffed the air, "Oh, you brought muffins!", then opened the box next to him. "Harry's at The Dark Side," he said between bites, already making a mess of himself with the blueberry bits.

"The dark side? "

Remus rolled his eyes slightly, "Dark Side is a store front to ours."

"As if that explains it!" Sirius put his hands on his hips as his concern level started rising to an alarming level. What Harry had taught him all this time was that he needed to take better care of his health, because his heart would kill him some day with how many stressful situations Harry had put him through. "Who's there with him? Remus, he's four! He can't wander around by himself!"

If the werewolf wasn't so focused on devouring what was his first meal of the day, he'd stop everything to laugh at his friend antics. Remus was one of the rare people that could say that he knew Sirius Black quite well, other than James, and yet moments like these took him so by surprise, that Remus couldn't help but compare him to the version of the friend he'd lived with in his teens. Sirius, despite everything, still liked to maintain the ‘cool guy' pose; the kind that always said, 'let the boy play', and flicked his wrist with little care, but when the boy was in fact playing , Sirius was the one who didn't take his eyes off him for even a minute; wand in hand, mouth slightly ajar, as if ready to save Harry from any imminent danger that he might face... from jumping on James', apparently, way too high mattress — his words.

"Calm down, dadfoot , he's fine. James and I are friends with the owner, plus I've got my eyes on him at all times," Remus said, "Can't you see his little head from here?"

Oh , Sirius actually could...

The bookshop's glass doors faced exactly the glass doors of the store ahead, and in the right corner, sitting on a counter similar to Remus', almost completely hidden by one of the shelves, was his godson; moving his head up and down... What on earth was he doing there?

The scene made Sirius want to let out a relieved sigh, so much so that he didn't even notice the mischievous grin that had spread across Remus' face.

"Harry is probably starving, he hasn't stopped a second since he got here... Why don't you go fetch him?"

Sirius didn't need to be told twice.

The Dark Side, the man had realized upon entering, was not a place of dark magic as he had previously thought, but a... music store. 

A bell rung as he stepped in, but no one had come to greet him yet.

"Haz?" he called.

From the loudspeakers, a husky voice accompanied a type of punkish tune, one that Sirius had no idea what it was, but he found that he quite liked it. The place smelled nice, was the first thing he'd noticed, something woodsy but sweet at the same time — nothing alike other music stores he’s visited before. Similar to the bookshop, most of it was adorned with rows of shelves, but these came up to his hips maximum and filled with vinyl records and LPS, instead of books.

Everywhere he looked he found something else that he liked; the vinyls on the wall, the band posters, the blue puffs on the corners and an electric Gibson lying around.

This looked like a personal paradise of his, even if Sirius wasn't as active on the music scene as he used to be in his teens... Man, his sixteen-year-old self would've never left this place, if he had stumbled upon it years before.

On one of the walls to the left, there was a mosaic of framed vinyls that had some sort of neon light underneath it, drawing your eyes to it. One in specific caught Sirius' attention.

"Bloody hell!" he hissed, when he realized that the 'A Night at the Opera' vinyl with two huge scribble on both sides, were apparently Brian May's and Roger Taylor's own autographs! Sirius ran his finger over the glass that protected the album, feeling tiny tingles of magic all over the place.

"Afternoon, sorry for not coming sooner. I hope you weren't waiting for too long," a female voice came from behind him.

Sirius stopped on the spot, wait ... he knew that voice...

"Oh, so you've found my precious, " she chuckled, but Sirius didn't get the joke, "Are you a big Queen’s fan? I still got some of their newest album on stock, if you want a recommendation."

He knew that voice, he knew that breathy laugh. It couldn't be...

Then, turning around hastily, like someone who never liked to be taken by surprise, his ‘ couldn't be' became 'it already is' very quickly.

If there was anyone that Sirius didn't think he'd run into on a Thursday afternoon, working in a Muggle music store specially, it was the little Snake! Merlin, he hadn't seen her since, what?... Probably his last year at Hogwarts, yeah, when she was still in her sixth with his brother.

Oh, god…

Sirius felt a sudden urge to start laughing as his brain started to connect the loose wires... Now it all made sense!... The jokes, the knowing grins and the looks that Moony and Prongs exchanged whenever the topic of "Moony's lady friend" came up.

Of course, who else could it be?

"My, oh my. If it's not the famous Sirius Black stepping into my humble little nook," she crossed her arms, an amused glint crossing her eyes. The total opposite of Sirius, who still had his mouth hanging open, the now woman didn't seem the least bit surprised to see him there, though her words revealed that she didn't actually know.

If his friends were with him right now, they'd be laughing at Sirius like they’ve never laughed before… After all the quips, all the eye-rolls and annoyance, the little motherfucker couldn’t turn out to be right at the end:

Harry had really found the perfect woman for Sirius.

part two