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davidmann95 · 4 years ago

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Thoughts (if any) on DC's April 2021 solicitations?

Let’s take ‘em in order! I should be able to muster up a comment on just about everything one way or another.

Green Lantern #1: Oh this is gonna be bad. Heard only the worst about Thorne’s Future State: Green Lantern, and I assume Jo Mullein’s DCU debut will be wasted here to either function as some kind of ridiculous ‘popularity contest’ with Teen Lantern for who gets the bigger push, or as a way to put TL over with a few “good work kid, you got a future” comments. Also, and granted I don’t know how Morrison will end or this will begin, is the New Guardians angle being immediately dropped?

Robin #1: Dope suit, art, and premise, but it’s Williamson so I don’t care.

Batman: The Dark Knight #1: I’ll read this and I expect to like it, but between this being Kubert’s first big Batman project since Master Race, the ‘old but not quite retirement age yet’ angle, and the title, I’m concerned the shock ending here is that it’s actually a stealth DKR prequel.

The Next Batman: Second Son #1: So they really are committing here, though weird that this kinda makes Ridley’s Future State book basically a longform teaser for this. And I’ll get it as it comes out since it turns out this won’t be in that John Ridley’s Batman collection after all - sorry Dustin Nguyen, I love your stuff but I won’t buy an entire trade of material I otherwise already own just for one new story by you.

The Batman & Scooby Doo Mysteries #1: I got that whole great-looking Scooby Doo Team-Up run by Fisch for free on Comixology, I should read that sometime and see if this’ll be worth getting too as well, because it sounds like a hoot.

Challenge of the Super Sons #1: Glad people who want it are getting it, I do not care.

RWBY/Justice League #1: WILL BE GETTING A POST ALL ITS OWN

Action Comics #1030: His powers waning definitely won’t help the standard pre-run fuming by a lot of Superman fandom, but it’s an interesting pairing with PKJ apparently doing mainly cosmic Superman adventures so I’m curious where he’ll go with it. That it’s particularly cited as being tied to Death Metal might validate my suspicion that the new ‘everyone remembers their entire mainstream publishing histories’ thing will play into Johnson’s description of Clark really feeling his age at the start of the run. And Janin on covers even before he gets in on the book proper! And that Midnighter description!

Superman #30: This sounds like where Johnson’s gonna start with that worldbuilding he touted, and I’m curious; definitely reads in this instance like him shoving Clark and Jon into some swords-and-sorcery-esque territory he’s familiar with.

American Vampire 1976 #7: Not reading, don’t care.

Batman #107: I assume ‘the events at Arkham Asylum’ are the ‘A-Day’ ominously brought up in Future State solicits. Tynion Batman, Jimenez as the regular artist now, whatever the Unsanity Collective is, all entirely my shit. More importantly than any of that though, GHOSTMAKER BACKUPS. And drawn by Ricardo Lopez Ortiz, artist on Steve Orlando’s excellent The Pull! Dope!

Batman: Black & White #5: Any other issue and ‘Jamal Campbell doing a life story of Nightwing’ would probably be the highlight, but in case you somehow hadn’t heard Gillen/McKelvie are making their DC debut on a Batman vs. Riddler story here, absolutely wild.

Batman: Urban Legends #2: Even more excited for this now that I’m onboard for the Grifter and Outsiders stuff given how much those features pleasantly surprised me in Future State.

Batman/Superman #17: Injecting it isn’t enough anymore, I need to be on some kind of constant IV drip with this book. I was wondering whether it’d take the premise to further generational riffs or follow a history of mass-media Supermen and Batmen, but instead it’s veering off in a direction I never could have guessed and I couldn’t be more excited.

Batman vs. Ra’s Al Ghul #6: NOTHING CAN STOP THE ADAMSVERSE. NONE MAY DARE TRY.

Batman/Catwoman #5: Wondering how this Harley involvement plays in - I don’t imagine it’s quite what it seems given how King’s written her before. And love that Joker by Mann on the cover, major Clown at Midnight vibes.

Catwoman #30: No reason to assume this run won’t continue to rule.

Crime Syndicate #2: Dammit, I don’t think this book is going to be good, but I’m kinda tempted.

Detective Comics #1035: Wouldn’t be psyched, but Dark Detective was another pleasant surprise so I’ll give this a chance.

The Dreaming: Waking Hours #9: Again, not reading.

Far Sector #11: Sucks a little knowing we’ll never see that little ‘Young Animal’ label in the corner again after this wraps. At least it’s going out on its highest note.

The Flash #769: In a vacuum this would sound dope but I have less than no faith in this, and goddamn that’s a terrible cover.

Harley Quinn #2: I’m sure it’ll be fine, no interest.

The Joker #2: I wanna believe Tynion will be able to make this work, he keeps talking like he has more freedom on this than he has some other books, but everything about this reads like the price he has to pay for relative post-Joker War freedom on Batman.

Justice League #60: It’s Bendis/Marquez on Justice League, lots of people will complain but I’ll mostly dig it. More interested in Ram V briefly getting to write the main crew in the JLD backup.

Man-Bat #3: I’d ask why this exists - and as a matter of fact I still do - but checking out some of DC’s digital-first output recently I see Dave Wielgosz has something on the ball, so maybe he’ll be able to make this work? Perhaps I’ll check it out in trade someday if worth-of-mouth is on its side.

Nightwing #79: I maintain, this is gonna be huge. And clever move to make for how to justify Nightwing keeping up his standard way of business after Bruce loses most of his money.

Rorschach #7: A comic I will purchase and let’s continue leaving it at that.

Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? #109: DC’s highest-numbered comic (that hasn’t gone through an interim renumbering), astonishing. Not getting it myself, but respect.

Sensational Wonder Woman #2: Can’t say this sounds like my thing.

Suicide Squad #2: I’ve been swayed into checking out the Future State debut, but that’d have to really blow me away for me to follow into the main book.

Superman: Red & Blue #2: Sadly if unsurprisingly DC’s clearly not stacking this with AAA attention-grabbing names in the same way as this latest version of Batman: Black & White, but there do seem to be some interesting names from outside the usual big two roster here. And the main and Bolland cover may disappoint but holy cow that David Choe variant.

The Swamp Thing #2: I have no doubt it’ll be incredible but time and again I learn I simply don’t have it in me to care about Swamp Thing regardless of the objective quality of the effort put into him.

Sweet Tooth: The Return #6: Another one I’m not interested in.

Titans Academy #2: Oh lord so this is where they stuck Billy Batson.

Truth & Justice #3: I continue to have no idea what if anything the unifying idea of this anthology is supposed to be.

Wonder Woman #771: Wonder Woman as troubleshooter for mythological mishaps isn’t a permanently sustainable or desirable status quo but I’m down for it for as long as it lasts if it’s any good (though that Immortal Wonder Woman preview...concerned me, in spite of Jen Bartel’s jaw-dropping art).

So that’s 19-23 out of 37 I’ll be getting - if DC’s standard for success with Infinite Frontier is the proportion of their line people will be checking out, I guess it’s winning with me.

#DC Comics #DC: Infinite Frontier #Opinion

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ramblinganthropologist · 3 years ago

Text

MER Week Day 2 - Long time no see

Summary: It’s been a while since Alistair Shepard and Garrus Vakarian have seen each other. They’ve been busy on their separate planets, helping in whatever ways they can to get things back to as normal as they’re going to get. However, with some free time, they’re finally getting to meet back up. Problem is... somebody forgot to mention the testosterone. Whoops. Well, at least Shepard’s got a free offer of carapace ripping from his sister if things go south.

(Set after ME3, enjoy your t4t shakarian lol)

---

Babe: See you at 3 then.

The message still glowed on his screen, burned into his retinas from the night before. It was the last message in a long conversation that had lasted well into hours he should have been sleeping, but it had been worth it. After all, it was important to hash out details when your fiancé was coming to visit.

It was even more important to do so in his circumstances.

“Fuck…”

The words leaked out from between Alistair’s teeth as he glanced around – the time said it was sometime after 2:40. Like always, campus was busy, full of his fellow students going from one class to another. Most of them look tired – and he understood that fully. Between med school and fighting the reapers… some days it could be a toss-up, depending on what he was doing.

Most days, med school won. Maybe that was a good thing? Or maybe he was just a sadist.

Regardless, campus was busy. It was easy to blend into the crowd like this as he sought a seat on a bench under a tree. All he could do was look at the screen of his omni-tool, frowning as he read through the messages.

He shouldn’t have been nervous… but he was.

Maybe that was why he clicked onto a new message window, just as busy as the one with the one he had been glancing at. Even better, the other person was online. Something like hope sprung into his chest as he started typing, fingers flying with the speed of an ex-Alliance officer.

Some things were fading with time – this probably never would.

Al: Where are my anxiety meds when I need them?

Bo: Relax, he’s going to love it. And if he doesn’t, there won’t be anything left to bury afterwards.

Bo: Or whatever turians do when they die.

“Nothing like threatening my fiancé to get me to calm down.” He chuckled despite himself, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. However, a beeping drew his attention. Bo was attempting to video call him, which he was more than happy to accept.

Rannoch was as busy as ever on the other side of the line. He could see quarians and geth in the background, going about their business as his adopted sister focused her camera. Even after tweaking it, she was still a little skewed and not completely in the frame. However, she was allowed to be – her analogue sense of direction had saved his ass. She could be as out of focus as she wanted.

“I mean it, Al.”

He chuckled again. “I know, Bo. I guess I’m just nervous. I mean… we haven’t seen each other before…”

With his free hand, he gestured towards his body. Some days, especially in the early morning when he was half asleep, he was still unable to believe what was actually happened. It seemed more like a dream… at least until his voice cracked. It was doing that far less as his range settled, but still. At his age, it was kind of embarrassing.

Oh well, puberty was rough, especially when it was triggered for a second time in his 30’s.

“Told you that you should’ve sent him more dick pics.” Bo’s tone was flat as a pancake as she adjusted her camera – still out of focus. Now he was getting a view of Rannoch’s currently cloudless sky. Last time he had seen it, it had been full of Reapers. Honestly, he preferred it without them. Much friendlier. “Just relax. You know he thinks you’re hot as hell. All you have to do is use your commander Shepard voice and he’ll be eating out of your hand.”

Alistair felt his face color a little as he looked to the side. “I’m not going to use that in public…”

“You know what I mean. An Adam’s apple isn’t going to turn him off, so no sense worrying about it.” She paused, and he swore her eyes glowed. Maybe that was the camera angle? “And if it does…”

He could already see the threat – beating him with his own carapace was one of her favorites. He had never actually seen someone do it, but it was a classic at that point.

“Yeah, I know - death and calamity upon his head like you’ve only reigned down on the last guy who tried to take your crown.”

“He’s still recovering.” There was pride in her voice at that, and she should have it. After all, it wasn’t every day a human went undefeated in Omega’s underground Krogan wrestling tournaments. Surviving the reapers only brought better challengers, and it seemed to keep her well supplied with cannon fodder. “But anyway, just go for it.”

There was a pause, and her camera focused momentarily. “Also, since when did you start growing a beard?”

Oh, hail the mighty power of testosterone…

“Like two months ago, shaving sucks.” A beeping drew his attention – his heart raced at the sight of a new message. “Gotta go… I think that’s him.”

“Remember, just call me if you need his carapace ripped off.”

After the offer of violent assault, the call disconnected and left Alistair alone with his thoughts as he switched back over to his messages. Just like he thought, the message was from a certain someone he was waiting for. His heart jumped into his throat as he glanced around – nope, not there yet.

Babe: Almost there, got a little lost. I’ll never understand human city planning.

He always said that. Still, it made the ex-marine chuckle as he stood, waiting. Soon enough, they would be together again. It had been far too long, and the distance achingly wide. But now that the relays were working again, it was possible.

Note to self: maybe don’t take out the relays next time he saved the universe. It made travel a nightmare to say the least.

At least it wasn’t a long wait. Out of the corner of his eye, Alistair spotted movement that didn’t quite track for tired med student. It was too focused for that, and the pace was all wrong anyway. Plus, the whole carapace and being like seven feet tall thing helped, but it didn’t sound nearly as cool as the former.

“Alright, just… relax. Like Bo said…”

Of course, that didn’t help the butterflies in his stomach as he stood, adjusting his shirt. All the logic in the world couldn’t have saved him then as he watched the turian approach, clearly scanning the crowd for familiar markers. His heart stopped when their eyes met in the crowd, blue into blue.

Garrus was looking good for someone who had nearly died killing Reapers.

“Al?”

There was no mistaking the surprise in the turian’s voice as he made his way over to the tree. When he finally got there, his mandibles flapped like flags in the wind. The gears were turning in his brain, no doubt running countless calibrations. In a weird way, it was kind of cute.

At the same time, it was fucking nerve wracking. Talk about a conflict of interest.

Still, it was Garrus, and he was finally there. That was enough to put a smile on Alistair’s face as he reached out to take the turian’s taloned hand. It was just as rough and warm as he remembered, and his fingers still stretched as they laced together. It might have been a little sore, but muscle memory wasn’t letting him down.

“Hey, babe. Good to see you got here in one piece.”

Thank the universe his voice didn’t crack with that one. Maybe this was the thanks he got for saving it.

At least Garrus had the good grace to not look as though his jaws had stopped working. Alistair did get to watch his eyes travel downward in the classic once-over, though. All the while, his stomach bubbled. It felt as though a heavy weight was poised to drop on his head, and all he could do was stand there and wait.

Eventually, the turian squeezed back carefully, the blunt side of his talons sliding down his fingers. “So, I guess this is why you’ve been so shy about video calling me lately?”

“My voice was cracking really badly up until about a month ago, you were saved a lot of translator feedback.” He smiled, sheepish. “But… yeah. I didn’t really know how things were going to turn out and…”

His voice trailed off as he felt heat leak into his cheeks. “Here’s hoping you still think I’m hot?”

Yep, his voice definitely cracked at the end there. Maybe the universe had it in for him after all. At least Garrus didn’t wince too hard at the sudden shift – good old turian military training there. Still, he hadn’t said anything yet. That… wasn’t promising.

Maybe he should have sent those dick pics?

“You… what’s that called again?” Garrus cocked his head to the side in a gesture that always made him look cute and kind of bird-like. “On your face. Joker was always talking about his.”

Right, turian…

“Beard. And mine’s not quite as good as his yet I’m afraid but give me a few months and I’ll see what I can do.” He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, fingers ghosting over his amp. It hadn’t seen action in almost a year now, and it was still odd to feel it cool to the touch.

Much to his relief, Garrus nodded. “It looks good now. I mean, you look good in general and all… I thought turian reactions to hormones were impressive, but humans are something else.”

“Gotta love those secondary sexual characteristics, babe.” Relief flooded through Alistair’s system as he sighed in relief. “And I think you just saved yourself getting your carapace ripped off by my sister.”

Hooray – that would have been a nightmare to fix.

Now it was the turian chuckling as he reached down to press his faceplates to his forehead in an alien version of a kiss. It was a gesture that always got his heart racing, even if it was just a quick peck. He had missed that in their time apart – texting just couldn’t beat actual contact.

“That’s probably for the best. I’ve not had a lot of practice lately, might be getting a little rusty.”

Alistair chuckled as they started to walk through the crowd. “You, rusty? I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh, no, it’s true. Barely had any time to run calibrations even, I’m starting to worry I’ll forget.”

That time, they shared a laugh between them. Maybe this was what Alistair had missed the most in the time spent on different planets – there was just something about the interplay between human and turian laughter that made his insides feel warm. Or maybe that was just his reaction to Garrus in general. Right then, anything was possible.

Still, he felt his face color a little as he looked to the side. “I’m sorry I didn’t send any in-progress shots. Bo could confirm any embarrassing details if you asked her.”

“Trust me, I get it. Remind me when we get back to your place to tell you about how I didn’t tell my sister I was going on hormones until after she came back from basic.” Another squeeze. “Of course, if you wanted to test that new vocal range out in some more strenuous conditions first…”

Oh, there was nothing friendly about that gaze. And it was something Alistair could appreciate as he squeezed back. Home was well prepped for what they both had in mind – they just had to get there first. Lucky for him, he lived within walking distance of campus.

The chuckle that escaped his lips was definitely not of the innocent afternoon type as he leaned in so only the turian could hear him. “I think that can be arranged, Vakarian. Better pick up the pace, though.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

With that, it was off they went at a faster rate, not quite a run but definitely quick. With the sun shining and thoughts about what was waiting for him when he got home, Alistair was once again glad the whole universe saving thing had worked out for the better.

Now… what exactly was he going to do with the turian when he got home? The options were endless…

#merweek2021 #Alistair Shepard #garrus vakarian #ft. Bo Peep Shepard

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zrtranscripts · 3 years ago

Text

Home Front, Mission 17: Drone On

Take to the Skies

[mechanical work sounds in the background]

JANINE DE LUCA: Ah, is it that time already? No, Mr. Yao, I can do it. I have equipment here. No, you do not need to come down and help. Please continue calibrating the comms. Attention, listeners, Janine De Luca here. I've just been informed by Mr. Yao that it is time for today's workout session. Please take a moment to gather two or more tin cans, two bags, and if possible, a chair for exercises you'll be doing later on. Ensure the bags have strong handles. Once you're ready, commence warming up, perhaps by jogging on the spot.

Unfortunately, I'm rather busy attending to a task in Abel's workshop at present. Under the workshop, to be precise. I'm in a crawl space, stripping out old copper wiring for use elsewhere. Still, I have a portable mic, so we can conduct our workout as planned. In fact, being in a confined space has brought to mind exercises for those locked down with limited room, such as Runner Thirty-One, who is unfortunately trapped within a cottage pantry.

So on to today's first exercise: seated leg raises. For this, you'll need one sturdy chair and just enough space to stretch your legs. I believe Thirty-One has that much room in his pantry, along with several thousand legumes. If you don't have room, continue jogging. Otherwise, sit upright in your chair with your back straight and your hands on the chair on either side of you. Plant your left foot on the floor, then straighten your right leg so it extends in front of you with your hip flexed and your knee straight. Hold the leg there for a few seconds, then lower it.

We will raise and lower your right leg thusly for 30 seconds, then your left for 30 more. And start. That's it, keep going. 15 seconds down. You're doing well, everyone. Please ignore my working in the background. Very good. 30 seconds, listeners. Switch to your left leg. That's it, 15 seconds left, listeners. We are both nearly done. The wiring down here is from defunct pre-apocalypse electrics. There is little left to salvage. And exercise complete, as is my collection operation.

I shall trigger a music break while I emerge from the crawl space. You could continue exercising or relax, listeners. I admit I've let Mr. Yao pick out today's songs, so I imagine something cheerful should be about to play.

JANINE DE LUCA: Welcome back, everyone. I'm afraid I am far from done with the day's labors, so you will have to bear with me while I conduct essential work. Abel's machine shop has been rather cluttered for the last few months. Just before the superhorde, we recovered a crashed military drone from nearby countryside, an extremely advanced attack model. Mr. Yao claims it resembles a predatory bird, though I know few birds of car size. At first I was worried the drone was damaged beyond repair, but I have had ample incentive to work on it of late. Now while I rewire some circuits on the drone's underside, you've a round of torso twists to do.

Use the tin cans and bags you obtained earlier. Place one tin in each bag. Feel free to use more tins for a greater challenge. This ought to be a fine use for all those cans of condensed milk in your pantry, Runner Thirty-One. Of course, you wouldn't have been trapped by the horde if you hadn't disobeyed orders to go back for those cans. Now sit holding the weights very close to your chest. Twist from the waist to your left hand side, then twist back to the center, and then twist to the opposite side. Keep alternating twists like this for one minute. And begin.

Very good, 15 seconds complete. For camaraderie purposes, you may wish to know I am removing fused components from the drone. They are of a similar heft to your weights. That's it, 30 seconds elapsed. Patience is the key, listeners, in exercise and engineering. No matter how many panels need to be pried loose, one must persist. 15 seconds left, nearly done. And exercise complete.

It has been weeks of work, listeners, but I am close to restoring this drone, I know it. Air support in this day and age... it could bring us a major victory against the superhorde. Dr. Myers is concerned that I've been going without sleep for the project. For more than a few days, in honesty, but completion is so near. I need only... [components zap] Ah, damn! I need only bypass the power systems. The main battery still holds charge, but its connections are ruined. This wiring is delicate. I must concentrate. More music will follow. Rest or continue pushing yourselves and when I return, with any luck, some progress will have been made.

JANINE DE LUCA: Hello, listeners. You have just missed Mr. Yao, who has been down here on the pretext of delivering unsolicited cocoa. The truth is, weathering the superhorde, trying to plan a counterattack... the pressure has been intense. Bouts of flu and dysentery have other settlements low on medical supplies, beseeching us for aid. Tinkering in here is the closest thing to relaxation I've been able to manage. Hopefully you have found our exercises similarly restorative.

Today's next task: incline press-ups. If you're confined near stairs, find them. Adopt a press-up position with your hands shoulder-width apart on the second or third step of your stairs and your back straight. Bend your arms to lower your body until your chest is close to the floor, hold there for a count of two, then return to your starting position.

For those of you without stairs, like Thirty-One or Runners Nineteen and Twenty-Two who are trapped in the ale house toilet after a failed romantic escape, try wall press-ups. Stand before a wall with your legs together and your arms straight out with your palms on the wall at shoulder height, shoulder-width apart. Keep your back straight and bend your elbows to bring your nose close to the wall. Hold for two seconds, then return to your starting position.

There will be one minute of press-ups. Begin. 15 seconds down. I believe I am close to finishing the rewiring. 30 seconds down. The drone appears to be coming online. Excellent. 45 seconds down. I imagine wall press-ups are especially useful for Runner Thirteen, who is sheltering in an old police box, to Mr. Yao’s perplexing amusement.

And stop. The drone is ready for launch. With so little fuel, there is no opportunity to test it, but I have a plan in mind. The people need a victory against the horde. To be candid, I feel I need one, too. There will be a music break while I conduct the launch. Recoup or continue doing press-ups. When you hear from me again, we shall find out one way or another whether my efforts here have been in vain.

SAM YAO: Uh, hello? Hello, listeners, are you there? It's Sam in the comms shack. Janine told me to take over the broadcast while she launches her drone. Apparently, she's rigged up a remote to steer it, so she's got to focus on that. [paper rustles]Anyway, she's given me a list of exercises for you. Next one is... oh, planking. Janine says it's, uh, an excellent test of patience, inspired by Runner Twelve, who's stuck in the back of an overturned campervan. She's been planking to pass the time.

So lie down on your front, supporting your weight on your forearms and tiptoes. Keep your back straight and lock your core. You're going to hold that pose for 60 seconds. And go. Oh! Got an update from Janine. The drone just launched, and ah, I see it on the cams, rising from the workshop like a big scary robot eagle. 15 seconds down. That's it, plank like Runner Twelve. Halfway done. Huh, that's weird, the drone's just drifting over the horde. I mean, shouldn't it be, I don't know, shooting missiles or something? 45 seconds down. Keep your body locked. Imagine you're that drone soaring through the air like a plank. And done. Good job, everyone!

Yeah, there's still no bombs or missiles from our drone. It's uh, oh, it's losing altitude, drifting east toward Naxdale Settlement. Yeah, they've always been a bit twitchy over there. They keep claiming some mysterious beast is looting their stores. I mean, everyone knows it's just rats. Anyway, I'd better check in with Janine, make sure everything's okay. You guys know the drill, keep exercising or relax in the break and I'll be right back.

SAM YAO: Hey, folks! Me again. Couldn't get ahold of Janine. She must be busy steering the drone. Well, I guess we should just get on with our exercises. Uh, the next one is inch worming. According to Janine, it's Runner Thirty-One's favorite, even if he only has enough space to halfway do it in his pantry. Janine says it's the kind of bracing challenge that patience sometimes earns. Right.

So stand up straight, feet hip-width apart, then slowly bend forward, putting your hands on the floor in front of your feet as near as you can get them to your toes. Walk your hands forward, keeping your abs engaged, until your back is completely straight, then reverse it. Walk your arms back to your feet and stand up straight again. And well, just keep doing that over and over again for one minute. Ready? And go.

Hmm. Uh, you've done 15 seconds. Oh, that drone is getting really low. It's banking. Oh my God, it's going down!. Uh... uh, sorry, listeners. Um, yeah, you're halfway done. I'm just a bit distracted here. The drone’s careered right into the middle of Naxdale Settlement. Uh, I'm checking nearby cams. This can't be good. Uh, yeah, 15 seconds left, guys. Looks like the locals in Naxdale are surrounding our crashed drone. They look really agitated. Uh, good job, everyone. That's one minute.

Listen, I'm gonna raise Janine, find out what's happening. You just... hang in there. Janine's been slaving over that thing for weeks. If it's some kind of dud, she'll be devastated. Oh God, I hope Naxdale don't think we're attacking them. Okay, this could be bad, but don't panic. I'm just... just going to put on some relaxing music for you to cool down to while we get this straightened out. Oh boy.

JANINE DE LUCA: Hello, listeners. I apologize for alarming you and Mr. Yao. All is well, I simply chose to focus on implementing my plan before explaining it. Lost time is lost health in this case. The drone was never meant to fight the horde, you see. We lack the ammunition for that. No, the drone is packed with medical supplies. I gutted its weapons systems to make room. I have piloted the drone to our nearby neighbors.

And to those listening from Naxdale, you are entitled to 1/8th of its contents. The drone's landing gear is permanently jammed, hence today's crash. You will use spare parts aboard to repair any landing damage and I will pilot it to the next nearest settlement, where this process will repeat. The drone has enough fuel to deliver to every settlement for miles. You will all get the supplies you need. And if anyone tries to take more than their share, well, the drone has a self-destruct.

We could not beat the horde with one damaged drone, listeners, but sometimes the key to victory is redefining your success conditions. No settlement near Abel will run out of key supplies. That is worth a little lost sleep, I fancy. Alas, we are out of time for today's exercise session. Naxdale, I will be in touch to help prepare the drone.

And everyone else, please do watch the skies. I promise when you need Abel Township, we will be there. That goes doubly for Runner Thirty-One and all the other runners out there in tight spaces. One day soon, we will be coming to rescue you, no matter what it takes, I swear. This is Janine De Luca, signing off for now.

#zombies run #zr home front #zrhf 17 #drone on #zr transcript

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destinyc1020 · 4 years ago

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I was reading the Elle interview Tom did back in 2019 and I’m a little confused... here’s a part of the article: “ While the internet begs to differ, Holland and Zendaya are not dating. He’s not romantically involved with anyone at the moment but is “definitely a relationship person,” he says. “I’m not the fleeting type at all; it’s not my way of life.” But for now, he’s happy putting all his waking energy into his work.

When we talk, he’s on a break from one of eight upcoming projects, The Devil All the Time, a gothic drama co- produced by his friend and Spider-Man costar Jake Gyllenhaal. “I’m finding it challenging, because I’m not sharing the screen with a big 80-foot water monster,” he says. “It’s just me and Sebastian Stan sitting there having an intellectual conversation. For me, the green or blue screen is like a safety blanket, because I know I’m not going to be the biggest thing onscreen.”

Do you or does anyone know when tdat wrapped filming? Because from reading this, the timeline of events doesn’t make sense cause I tought they were still together when he was shooting tdat or maybe I’m just interpreting it the wrong way 😅 anyways sorry to bother you with something that has happened a long time ago already...

I hope you have a comfortable chair, because this will be a dissertation lol... 😅

Tbh Anon, I have always assumed that this interview was conducted AFTER he and Z had already split up. But if it was conducted earlier in the year in 2019 when he was filming TDATT, then that definitely makes me wonder... 🤔

You know what has ALWAYS been interesting to me about this Elle interview? The fact that Tom was never really actually directly quoted as saying he is “single” and “not dating Zendaya”. The interviewer/article itself stated that, but I never saw that in a direct quote of his in THIS interview.

Link: https://www.elle.com/culture/movies-tv/a28074000/tom-holland-spiderman-july-2019-interview/

They have all of these other direct quotes of his sprinkled throughout the interview, but when it actually came time to him mentioning that he’s not dating anyone, the interviewer didn’t actually directly quote him. It’s just weird....

You see what I mean??

The interviewer/writer writes that he’s not dating Zendaya...in fact, he’s not romantically involved with ANYONE at the moment... But yet, why wouldn’t they directly quote him as saying that? Wouldn’t that be a juicy piece of a quote from him that you would add in the interview? 🥴 That’s just always been kind of weird to me that they never actually had a direct quote of his. What was even the question asked? Also, if Tom & Z were already broken up at this time...Why would he be gushing about Z and her acrobatic expertise in TGS out of the blue? We all know when Tom stopped talking about Z cold turkey lol..... But in this interview, he’s STILL bringing her name up. And based on the timeline of events from the Tomdaya Timeline of things we know happened....

Tom arrived in AL on 2/18/19 to film TDATT

Tom made a trip back to London in March for his grandfather's memorial service, but returned on 3/3

Then he was spotted in LA w/ Z on 3/10

He was spotted again in LA on 3/12, 3/30 and 31, 4/6, 7, and 13 (Spidey reshoots in April)

and then arrived in ATL for Chaos Walking reshoots on 4/15

Z attended the Met Gala on May 6th, and Tom followed the Met Gala account and then unfollowed the very next day

While prepping for the Met Gala, Z helps Tom with something technical that he needed help with

And we all know he was spotted on set with Z for Euphoria filming on May 12th.

So with all of THAT evidence, they definitely seemed like they were still dating at least until mid-May, 2019.

So if he did that Elle interview WHILE he was on set of TDATT, then he was obviously lying lol... That would be my guess. 🤷 Which, wouldn’t be a shocker, cuz he’s lied before! 🤣😂

Z was caught on the red carpet about to say “cuddling with my boyfriend”, and this was in June... What “boyfriend” was she referring to lol?? 😂 Even if they had split up already by then, she was obviously still in “girlfriend mode”... which obviously makes sense since she had just spent an entire press tour with her ex lol.

Either way, I keep telling you all these celebrities sometimes lie lol. It happens ALL the time.

Also, sometimes I just pay attention to direct quotes in interviews for magazines, because sometimes I’ll notice that an article or an interviewer will take “creative liberties” and will make inferences of things when the person/celebrity being interviewed wasn’t even quoted as saying that. Now if they hinted at something during the interview, then that should be written as a direct quote imo. Since I wasn’t there, I of course have no CLUE what Tom told the interviewer. But if they were freely quoting these other statements of his, it just seems odd to me that they wouldn’t quote that very other obvious quote about his love life. Anyway. it’s just something that stood out to me in that Elle interview. They never actually had a DIRECT quote of Tom saying: “I’m single” lol. Yet, they have him quoted as saying: “I’m not the fleeting type”, and that he’s “definitely a relationship person”. But no actual quote of him saying “I��m NOT dating Zendaya”, and “I’m currently SINGLE at the moment”? 🥴

Seriously??

But yet...they have him quoted as saying all kinds of OTHER stuff in the article. Idk... It’s just interesting to me.

I actually feel like his recent French article interview was more “directly quoted” than even this Elle interview in 2019 tbh.

So...go figure! 🤷

Feel free to believe whatever you want Anon lol. 😅

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milfweirdal · 2 years ago

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Weird Al 30 Day Challenge - Day 4

Day 4: favourite song parody?

Such a hard question oooourghhh . There are so many that I love. There are so many good ones. It's always gonna feel like I'm leaving ones out Gonna tryyy and narrow it down to five. I'm about to type a lot so I'm gonna put it under a cut lol

Spam because it's a parody of one of my absolute favourite REM songs and I think he really captured the delivery and vibe of the original. "The key is there to open the tin / the tin is there to keep the spam in" makes me laugh every time.

I Think I'm A Clone Now because it vastly improves on the Tiffany version. its an absolute bop to listen to with some of my fave al vocal harmonies. also because I really enjoy the narrative the lyrics present, like in a literal sense, of a guy and his clone befriending each other and getting famous and going on Oprah, but also like the meta-narrative of self-love and radical acceptance of one's origins in life which rly speaks to me. Oh and the "pair of jeans/genes" wordplay

Like a Surgeon - there is so much I could say about like a surgeon. The way he makes the lyrics fit and reference back to the original so damn well. The political commentary about for-profit healthcare in the US. The absolute GENDER of it all. 100% a classic and 100% a classic for a reason.

eBay - I have to mention this one because I think it's a really good one but also because it's extremely nostalgic to me and listening to it feels like getting a big warm hug from the mid 2000s internet.

And finally -

It's All About the Pentiums, baby

It probably would have been surprising if I didn't mention that one, y'know, considering the (waves vaguely in direction of icon and url)

It's the way he's somehow managed to write a song about computer technology that is only 25% dated 24 years later and in some ways aged perfectly (''you could back up your whole hard drive on a floppy diskette'' is arguably an even more sick burn now than it was then)... It's the way the guitars sound more powerful and driven than the original, it's his impeccable flow, it's the way he keeps upping the energy right up until the last moment of the song, it's the way he actually makes being a programmer in the 90s sound really badass. Severely underrated. Should be up there with his most well known songs imo.

(Augh it feels so weird leaving so many great ones out, so, honourable mentions to white and nerdy, word crimes, and trapped in the drive thru for their demonstration of sheer CRAFT)

#weird al 30 day challenge

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Galactica, Chapter 37 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Things looked up for Violet as she finally settled into the new normal of working in design.

This Chapter: One of New York’s most illustrious editors-in-chief turns 40--in style.

***

Shit.

It had been an absolute hell week, Courtney being run ragged all day, everyday. She’d missed more meals than not, barely slept, had gotten used to only using the bathroom when Fame was occupied.

It was really the first time that she and Miss Fame had to interact directly for more than a few words, and if Courtney thought she was high-maintenance before, she had no idea how weird it would get.

On Tuesday, Courtney had been torn a new one for ringing the doorbell when she had dropped off a package at Fame’s house, Fame looking at her like she was absolute vermin.

How was Courtney supposed to have known that it was a deathsin not to just let herself into her boss’ house, Fame explaining to her like she was a retarded toddler that she valued her family life and private time too much to be interrupted, not at all catching the irony of the fact that she was imposing on Courtney’s private time by forcing her to come to her house at 10 pm.

And now, a casual text from Adore that she’d be there around 7:30 reminded her about Bianca’s party and she was absolutely panicking. She had less than an hour to make herself presentable with literally nothing to wear.

She’d meant to ask Ivy about a dress, days ago, and then again yesterday when she was arranging the delivery of Miss Fame’s present to the Marie Claire offices, but it had slipped her mind amongst all the other things she had to remember.

She jumped up and raced into Raja’s suite, a cramp in her side, relieved to find the redhead still at her desk.

“Courtney? Are you okay?” Ivy rose from her seat, a concerned look on her face, ever the empath.

“I just...I forgot…” Courtney tried to catch her breath.

“Okay, take a breath. Whatever it is, it’s fixable. I promise.”

Courtney gulped. “I forgot that I’m supposed to go to this party tonight at the Guggenheim and it’s super fancy and my ride will be here in 40 minutes and I don’t have anything to wear and I don’t even know what the dress code means and I was just wondering if I could borrow something and I promise I’ll have it cleaned and returned by Monday but-”

“Courtney, breathe. Okay?” Ivy took her hand, inhaling deeply and then blowing out dramatically.

Had this job really killed so many of her brain cells that she needed assistance breathing now? Regardless, Courtney followed Ivy’s lead, taking a few deep breaths to slow her racing heart.

“Now,” Ivy began. “What does the dress code say?”

“Creative black tie?”

“Ah. Okay. Follow me.”

Courtney nearly cried with gratitude as Ivy led her into the wardrobe closet.

“Luckily, you’re a sample size, so this shouldn’t be too much of a challenge,” Ivy said. “It’s Bianca Del Rio’s party, right?”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, watching her paw expertly through the racks.

“Are you going for anything in particular?”

“I guess I wanna look…” Courtney racked her brain, unsure of what to say, when the word, “older” slipped from her lips.

Ivy paused, clearly not expecting that answer, and gave Courtney a curious look before nodding.

“I can work with that. Now, Bianca likes bold colors and dramatic silhouettes with clean lines, so I think something like this…” Ivy pulled a stunning, beaded blue cocktail dress out off the rack. “This will look good on you.”

Ivy was truly a gift from god. Not only did they find a dress that fit perfectly (they settled on a short, fire-engine red silk number with a plunging neckline), along with shoes, accessories, and a glamorous faux-fur wrap, but she even stayed to help Courtney with her hair and makeup, giving her a chic updo and dramatic winged liner.

“Ivy, honestly, if you ever need anything. Someone to cover your desk...a kidney...whatever...you know who to ask.”

“Good to know.” Ivy laughed, checking her makeup one more time, adding a little more glimmering highlighter to her cheekbones, and then proclaiming, “Alright, I think you’re done.”

“Thank you so much,” Courtney said again, pulling out her phone. She hadn’t heard from Adore in awhile, and wondered if she was stuck in traffic or something. She seriously hoped that she hadn’t rushed like crazy, inconveniencing Ivy and nearly giving herself an ulcer worrying, just to sit around waiting for an hour.

COURTNEY: ETA?

ADORE: Soon, I think. I’m on my way to Pearl’s, then we’ll pick you up. Do you want a gyro?

COURTNEY: I’M A VEGAN

ADORE: Oh yeah. Gross. I’ll text you when we’re close.

***

“Bianca! Darling!” Fame reached out her arms to pull Bianca in for a tight embrace. “Happy Birthday!”

She and Patrick had just arrived at the stunning event space a few minutes earlier, and were immediately whisked off to a VIP area with a private bar, where Raja and Raven were already relaxing on sofas, Sutan and Violet standing at the bar chatting with Detox and Jujubee.

It was perfect, removed enough from the chaos of the dance floor, but with a perfect view over the railing. And the speed with which Bianca had arrived to greet her told her that she’s given special instructions for the staff to alert her to Fame’s presence--exactly the kind of preferential treatment that Fame expected.

“Thanks, blondie,” Bianca grinned, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Fame smiled widely, fluttering her lashes. “So do you. I love this dress!”

“Yeah, your tits look great!” Raja chimed in.

Bianca was wearing a sinfully tight black bandage dress, the neckline showing off her breasts and glowing skin, the hem just above her knees, her legs one of Bianca’s best assets.

“You can barely see that you’re turning 40.” Fame grinned, which earned her a pinch from Bianca, the other still keeping her in her arms.

“Shush.”

“Please,” Fame squeezed Bianca’s forearm, “So, tell me the truth, do you like the ring?”

Bianca held up her hand, where it glittered on her index finger.

Yesterday, Fame had had Bianca’s birthday present delivered to her office at the exact time of her birth, 3:57 pm. Fame knew Bianca liked her statement pieces, so she had custom ordered a cocktail ring, but not just any cocktail ring. Instead of the usual single band, a stone in the middle, Fame had gone for a three part twist in gold, sparkling garnets adorning it.

“It’s perfect, I love it,” Bianca said.

“Wonderful!” Fame clasped her hands together. “You’re impossible to shop for.”

“No I’m not! I love stuff,” Bianca countered. “Plus, you know...I’ll never say no to a present that’s unavailable in stores…”

She grinned wickedly, dimples deep, hand drifting down to Fame’s ass. Fame swatted it away with a scolding look.

“Really, Bianca.”

“What, it’s my birthday!” Bianca said. “You gotta give me something.”

“Fine, a tiny something,” Fame laughed, leaning in and giving her a sweet kiss on the lips, then following up with a light smack to her cheek.

“That’s not where I like being spanked,” Bianca said.

“Oh my god, you’re impossible!” Fame exclaimed, breaking away and stepping over to the bar while Bianca laughed gleefully behind her. “Now come on, tell me about your presents.”

***

“And a drink for the lady.” Sutan smiled as he handed Violet a glass, his date taking it with a sweet smile and a thank you, Sutan putting his arm back around her waist as they walked around.

He had picked Violet up at her apartment, his heart almost skipping a beat as she had pushed the double doors open and walked down the steps, her dress of the night absolutely stunning, the back open and taunting with it’s promise of bare impossibly soft skin.

“So,” Sutan rubbed his thumb up and down, gently caressing Violet’s back, “are you having fun?”

Sutan was happy that she was there, enjoyed spending time with her, but as he got to know her more and more, he slowly realized how little she actually enjoyed big crowds.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Sutan bit his lip, hiding a smile at Violet’s quick but short reply.

***

Alaska giggled delightedly, letting Jinkx twirl her on the dance floor. If you’d told Alaska a few years ago that she’d have a friend who she could have this much fun with sober, she’d have laughed in your face. But, even though Jinkx didn’t mind it, Alaska really didn’t enjoy drinking around her. So when they were together, Alaska felt like it was the least she could do to hold off on the booze. What she did enjoy was being with her, sober or not, looking into her sparkling brown eyes as they tripped all over their feet.

“For a Broadway star, you’re really uncoordinated,” Alaska laughed, and Jinkx pretended to be offended, then giggled.

“It’s hard to be mad when you call me a Broadway star.”

“Well, you are!” Alaska said, wrapping her arms around Jinkx’s neck and gazing at her happily. She loved these moments, just the two of them having the time of their lives, dancing and laughing and ignoring every other person in the room. They always had fun, but tonight, Jinkx seemed to have an extra bounce in her step, radiating a kind of joy, and it made Alaska feel so grateful to be around her.

“Thanks Lasky...you’re the best.”

They whirled and stumbled around the dance floor some more, until they were both breathless and needed a break.

“What are we feeling like tonight? Ginger ale? Cranberry and soda?” Alaska asked.

“You choose,” Jinkx said, clinging to her arm.

Alaska ordered a couple of drinks for them and then turned back to Jinkx, who was looking at her with the cutest little dreamy half-smile. She couldn’t help the tingling rush that went down her spine as she lowered her eyes and asked, “So...what’s going on with you tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Jinkx asked, eyes widening innocently.

“I mean...you’re just very...I don’t know...” A smile tugged at Alaska’s lips. “...twinkly tonight.”

“Well...I wasn’t gonna say anything because...it’s kind of silly, but,” she lowered her voice, eyes shining. “I ran into her again. Ivy.”

Alaska felt her whole chest deflate, forcing a smile as Jinkx continued.

“At Zabar’s! It’s like the universe is just conspiring to help us get together, you know?” Jinkx giggled happily.

A lump rose in Alaska’s throat and she nodded, using all her willpower to keep the smile painted across her face. “Oh, wow. That’s...that’s cool. Did you talk?”

“Yes. You’d be so proud of me, I even got her number!”

“Wow. Awesome!” Alaska felt like she was going to throw up, shifting her gaze to the bartender, grateful for the distraction as he slid two ginger ales across the bar. She couldn’t help wishing that half the glass was Jack Daniels. She handed one of them to Jinkx and took her own. It tasted just dust.

“Yeah, but she was still a bit formal, you know? I think I need to see her in a more relaxed setting. Do you think she likes opera? Maybe I can ask her to Madame Butterfly?” Jinkx chattered, away, oblivious to Alaska’s shift in mood.

“You really think the Met is a relaxed setting?”

Jinkx threw back her head and laughed, squeezing Alaska’s arm. “Omigod, you’re right. I’m such a dingbat. What would I do without you, Lasky?”

“I don’t know…” Alaska stirred her drink.

“What do you think she likes?”

“Uh, I’m really not sure,” Alaska said. And it was true. She knew that Ivy was sweet, and professional, and did her job with a kind of calm efficiency. But she didn’t know her very well on a personal level, their professional paths rarely crossing directly.

“Hmm, maybe you can ask around? If that wouldn’t be too weird?” Jinkx looked so hopeful and earnest that Alaska couldn’t help but smile for real in spite of herself, immediately agreeing to help her on this quest to capture Ivy’s heart.

“Of course. I’ll ask around.”

Jinkx sighed happily, leaning on Alaska’s shoulder, eyes falling closed for a moment. “You really are my favorite person, Lask.”

“Back atcha, Jinxky.”

***

Adore walked into Bianca’s party, feeling like a million bucks. Everyone that was anyone and even some who were nothing were there, and Adore knew she looked better than all of them with her purple hair, her pouty red lips, her short black leather dress, fishnets, and best of all… Pearl, the sexiest fucking goddess she’d ever seen in her life at her side.

She hung on Pearl’s arm, enjoying the jealous looks she got; knowing that everyone at the party wanted to be in her place. She even got a nasty look from some models, who were clearly all in love with her girl, but Adore didn’t care.

Pearl was here with her and only her. Pearl glanced at her every few seconds with a smug grin on her face, like the cat that just ate the canary. Well, if the canary was Adore’s pussy. Which would mean the cat was… Well whatever, Adore wasn’t an English scholar. She was in love.

The only thing that sucked was that Courtney looked so fucking miserable. They’d been a little late picking her up, due to getting, well, sidetracked for a while at Pearl’s, and then stopping for food. She thought that Courtney would be a bit more understanding, but she’d barely spoken two words in the car, even Pearl picking up on her obvious anger.

And now, even though she was at the coolest party in Manhattan, she didn’t look happy at all. Adore caught her eye, offering a hopeful smile, but received only a resigned nod in return. She reached out to touch her hand.

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look?” Adore asked, hoping that a compliment and a charming grin would be enough to lighten her mood.

“You think?” Courtney asked, adjusting one of her straps nervously. “I don’t look out of place?”

“Bitch, you put all these other girls to shame,” Adore promised, and was rewarded, finally, with a pleased smile from Courtney.

“Thanks.”

“Pearl!”

Adore looked over at the group of giggling socialites who were approaching them, only slightly annoyed when they swept her girlfriend up. She pouted as Pearl dropped her hand, but smiled again when she doubled back to whisper into her ear, “I’m gonna try and squeeze some gossip out of these hoes, and then I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Okay, but don’t be too long!” Adore pulled her in, branding her cheek with a dark red kiss before taking Courtney’s arm and sauntering away, pleased with herself. She scanned the party, looking for her sister and finally spotting her holding court near the bar. She cupped her hands over her mouth to shout through the crowd. “Bianca! Happy birthday, you ancient whore!”

Bianca turned towards her sister’s voice, barking out, “You’re late!”

“Whaddaya mean, we’re right on time for a grand entrance!” Adore countered, laughing.

“Well-” Bianca stopped, completely losing her train of thought when her eyes landed on Courtney. She was wearing a short red dress, the first time Bianca has seen her in a color other than pastels, and she looked absolutely fucking stunning--legs a mile long, one blonde curl falling into her eyes. Damn.

“You look cute, B. Very boobalicious,” Adore said, giving her a hug. “Not bad for an old lady.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Bianca said, eyes still locked on Courtney. “Hi, Courtney.”

“Hi. Happy birthday,” Courtney said, giving her a sweet smile. “Sorry we’re late.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Bianca told her. “But here, uh...this’ll help you catch up.”

She took a couple of the signature drinks from a passing tray and handed them over. Adore immediately began to suck hers down, but Courtney hesitated.

“Um, what’s in this?”

“Courtney’s afraid of tequila. It makes her messy, right bae?” Adore bumped her hip.

“Something like that.”

“It’s called a Madras. Vodka, orange juice and cranberry. No tequila, but it will fuck you up. Be warned,” Bianca said with a wink.

“Well...cheers,” Courtney said, giving an adorable little laugh.

“Cheers.” Bianca took a sip of her own drink, then leaned in closer. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes shone, her fingers twirling that stray lock of hair.

“Yeah.” Bianca tried unsuccessfully to wipe the stupid grin off her face, and instead broke the tension with, “I’m shocked that someone who’s friends with my sister has such good taste.”

“Hey!” Adore exclaimed.

“Don’t be too impressed. It’s a loaner,” Courtney replied drily, causing Bianca to throw back her head and laugh.

“Fair enough.” She downed the rest of her drink, waving off a couple of acquaintances who were trying to get her attention.

“Be right back,” Adore said, scampering away towards Pearl, of course jumping the second the blonde so much as crooked a little finger.

Courtney reached out for her, but she was already gone. She sighed slightly, looking a little bit dejected, and Bianca cleared her throat.

“So listen, I heard through the grapevine that you’re looking for a way to avoid your, uh, Galactica employers while you’re here?”

Courtney looked up, startled. She seemed shocked that Bianca was still talking to her, and she stammered uncomfortably. “Oh. Yeah, no, I just-”

“Listen, it’s understandable, you wanna have a good time. Can’t do that while your boss is breathing down your neck, right?” Bianca flashed her dimples.

“Well...yeah,” Courtney admitted, laughing a little.

Bianca stepped closer, slipping an arm around her shoulders and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Fame and Raja are well contained, don’t worry. I made a VIP section since those two need a velvet rope to feel like they’re having a good time.”

Courtney giggled. “Like a rich person playpen?”

“It’s a prison of their own making,” Bianca affirmed, giving her a wink. “Trust me, they’re looking down on everyone the way they prefer, and they ain’t leaving.”

“Well...thank you.” Courtney bit her lip. It was hard to tell in this light, but it looked like a slight blush had crept into her cheeks, and Bianca found herself even more enamored.

“Anytime.”

A second later, she felt someone tap on her arm: one of the Marie-Claire board members, who she sadly couldn’t ignore.

“Sorry, I have go...do hostess shit,” Bianca said, regret flooding her chest, and Courtney nodded.

“Of course.”

She turned towards the middle-aged man and his young wife, saying her cursory hellos and giving air kisses, making small talk with them both. As soon as she could manage, though, she spared a glance back at Courtney.

The plan, from the moment Adore told her that Courtney was coming, had been to seduce this smoking hot friend of her sister’s. And she figured that the “rough break-up” that Adore’d reported would make it a sure thing. An easy and fun little fling--a birthday present to herself.

But now, something about the wistful, faraway expression on her delicate face as she smoothed down her skirt made her look vulnerable, in a way that gave Bianca pause. As stunning as she was--and fuck, she was an absolute knock-out--it didn’t make Bianca want to seduce her. Instead, it made her want to protect her. Ugh, why did her fucking conscience have rear its ugly head tonight, on her birthday of all nights?

“Thank you so much. Be sure to check out the raw bar!” she said, finally escaping and ready to head back to Courtney--but Adore beat her to it.

She watched as her sister came bounding up, Pearl in tow, and grabbed Courtney’s hands to pull her onto the dance floor.

Well, good. She should have a good time. Lord knows, anyone who worked for Fame deserved to blow off some steam. Bianca snatched another drink from a passing tray, trying to redirect her attention to the Welsh model who’d been giving her bedroom eyes all night.

***

Violet was having a surprisingly good time, taking small sips of her champagne. She had hurried home from work, almost ready when Sutan had texted that he was downstairs, the smile on Sutan’s face when he had seen her dress almost, almost, almost worth it’s price tag.

She had never been to an event of this size without having to worry if catering ran out of ice, or if she’d need to get taxis for whoever got way too drunk. It was nice to just stand by Sutan’s side, nice to be allowed to just be, without having to entertain or constantly think about everything that could go wrong.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Sutan smiled, his thumb rubbing up and down the small of Violet’s back. He was talking to one of the models from Elite, Violet vaguely recognizing her from some of the headshots she had presented to Fame for the fall collection. “I’ll be sure to tell Marcel about that.”

“Excuse me,” Violet turned, her eyes falling on a man with a camera, the card around his neck instantly telling her that he was from OK! magazine. “I was wondering if I could take a few pictures?”

“Oh,” Violet didn’t know what to do, her stomach instantly tightening.

“Sure,” Sutan grinned, turning towards the camera. “Right girls?”

“I-” Violet didn’t want to be in the picture, didn’t want someone she didn’t know documenting where she was, didn’t want to risk it ending up online. “I don’t-”

“Oh of course,” Sutan took her glass, handing it off to someone. “There we go.”

“Sutan”

“Come here,” Sutan put an arm around the model, posing both of them.

“Please-” Violet could feel Sutan’s hand on her hip, holding her tight, keeping her trapped, her throat closing up.

“Should we smile?”

“No,” The photographer looked out from behind his camera, “just be natural.”

Violet pushed away, forcing Sutan to let her go as the camera went off. She didn’t hear Sutan say her name, a quick flicker of a question on his face, didn’t see him smile apologetically to the photographer and pose with the model, didn’t notice any of it as she made her way outside, escaping the only thing she could think of.

***

Juju strolled through the crowd with Raven. She appreciated the whole VIP setup as much as anyone, but this was a massive party, and they’d decided to come spend a little time where the action was, maybe dance a bit -at least as much as her poor pregnant body would allow. They were stopped by a group of models, Raven proudly showing off her engagement ring and letting the other girls fawn all over her.

Juju put up with the schmoozing for a couple of minutes--after all, those girls were potential clients, until she spotted Bianca nearby and politely excused herself from the group, knowing that Raven would be perfectly content with her little fan club.

Bianca was chatting up some sweet young thing (typical), and Juju couldn’t resist messing with her a little. She wrapped her arms around Bianca’s waist from behind, asking in a low, husky voice, “Tell me I’m your favorite, Daddy.”

It was a joke between the two of them, something that had started years ago when Juju and Detox were first dating. They’d shown up at brunch one morning in the middle of a heated argument about whether it was appropriate for her to call him “Daddy” during sex--ironically, only a few months before she got preganant with their first child. It wasn’t a kink thing, exactly, it was just that she thought it was funny, and especially so when she saw his freaked out reaction. The group agreed that right or wrong, if it bothered him then she probably shouldn’t say it. But Bianca, ever the good sport, had pulled the smaller woman into her lap and declared that if she really needed to call someone Daddy, she was ‘willing to take one for the team.’

Juju accompanied her breathy greeting by biting gently on Bianca’s ear, adding, “Pwease?”

Bianca burst out laughing, pulling her close and introducing her to a very confused looking girl. “Tayce, you must know my friend Juju Sanderson. The brilliant hairstylist who owns Jujubee’s downtown?”

“Oh, yeah! It’s an honor!” Tayce said, her brown eyes lighting up as a dazzling smile spread across her face. “I’ve been trying to get an appointment with you, but you’re booked up for months!”

Juju had to bite back her laugh when she heard Tayce speak--Bianca always was a sucker for an accent.

“Well, play your luck with Daddy here, and you might jump the queue,” Juju said with a wink.

“Among other benefits,” Bianca cackled. “You know you’re the only one who I’d let get away with that Daddy shit, right?”

“Yes, thank you. You’re a lot more fun than my husband.”

“In so many ways,” Bianca said, turning to Tayce and giving her a playful smirk.

***

Violet took a deep breath, letting it out through her teeth as she could finally feel her heart slow down, though the knot in her stomach wasn’t going away.

She knew she couldn’t help it, but it was impossible not to feel an inkling of shame travel up her spine, the feeling that she was being ridiculous impossible to push down.

Sutan hadn’t meant anything by it, taking photos a part of his life, being in the public eye something that simply came natural for him.

Violet took a last breath, pushing away from the wall she had been leaning against to go back to the party, hoping that Sutan hadn’t noticed how strange she was acting.

It wasn’t that Violet liked acting this way, that she wanted to feel the panic rising in her body whenever she saw a camera in a stranger's hand, but she couldn’t help it.

She was an adult now, she had her own life, her own money and even her own job and her own apartment, but it was hard not to hide, impossible not to react to the instinctive fear that welled up in her at the risk of being found.

Violet walked back inside, the noise and the amount of people feeling so much more overwhelming when she wasn’t at Sutan’s side. She made her way through the crowd, easily spotting both Fame and Pearl, avoiding both of them.

She was starting to think Sutan had left, Raja nowhere to be found either, when she saw him sitting at a table, surrounded by models. He was laughing loudly, his arm around one of the girls, several of the models’ phones taking pictures of everything that was happening.

Violet’s stomach did a flip, the panic from earlier rushing through her body. She couldn’t go over there, couldn’t be a part of that part of Sutan’s world, so instead, Violet did what she always did.

Turned around, and walked away.

***

[Raja?] Sutan put a hand on Raja’s hip, turning her around. Sutan had been sitting with a group of models, doing shots and having fun right up until one of them had touched his legs under the table, and he had abandoned ship instantly.

[Have you seen Violet?]

He hadn’t seen her in over an hour, and while Sutan was more than sure that Violet could take care of herself, he had started to worry.

[Sutan!] Raja grinned, stepping into his space, looping her arms around his neck. [Hello brother dear.]

[Hello.] Sutan smiled, once again reminded of how much he truly loved Raja. She was tipsy, her eyes swimming slightly, which was probably why she hadn’t responded to his question. [Have you seen Violet?]

[Violet?] Raja tilted her head, her hand fiddling with the hairs at the nape of his neck. [No?]

[Shit.] Sutan bit his lip, his hands resting on Raja’s hips.

[Maybe she just left?] Raja smiled, running her fingers through his hair. [There’s no need to worry.]

[Maybe...]

[She can handle herself.]

[Mmmh.] Sutan knew that Raja was probably right, but it still felt weird that VIolet hadn’t said goodbye, and if he was honest, he was disappointed that they wouldn’t be going home together at the end of the night. [I’ll send her a text.]

Sutan was just about to reach into his pocket, was just about to get his phone out, when he saw a photographer to his left, just outside the VIP section. The paparazzi always loved to get photos of him and Raja together, and while he was sure Raja hadn’t noticed, he made sure to twist her slightly to the left, getting her good side as he smiled at the camera.

***

“Every guy here is drooling over you, bae,” Adore giggled, spinning Courtney on the dance floor before accepting another drink from Pearl.

“Not just the guys,” Pearl added with a wink.

Courtney laughed. In spite of her hesitation in tagging along, she’d been having a pretty good time. The attention was fun, of course, but Courtney’d barely noticed the alleged guys drooling over her. She couldn’t help thinking about the way she’d felt when Bianca put that arm around her, the way her brown eyes had sparkled in the dim light. The way goosebumps prickled her skin as Bianca’s fingers grazed her shoulder.

Her gaze kept being pulled in Bianca’s direction. Eyes drifting over her enticing curves in that tight dress. And occasionally, to her absolute thrill, Bianca would be looking back at her. Every time their eyes met, her stomach flipped around like crazy.

It was silly, she knew that. She knew that Bianca was only being nice to her because she was Adore’s friend. A nice kid. That it didn’t mean anything deep. This was, after all, a woman who dated supermodels and Oscar winners. Like the gorgeous girl by her side most of the evening, who had a face that Courtney instantly recognized from last month’s British Vogue cover.

Still.

The reality of the situation didn’t stop her from pretending, even just to herself, even just for the night, that maybe there was something there, that warranted all these confusing feelings swirling around inside her like a tornado.

And later, when they were saying goodbye, she allowed herself to enjoy the way Bianca’s palm pressed to the small of her back. She even let her lips linger for a few moments on Bianca’s warm cheek, kissing her goodnight.

***

SUTAN: Did you leave?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: The party is still going.

SUTAN: Did you get home safe?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: I can’t find you.

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: Violet??

VIOLET: I’m fine.

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skinks · 4 years ago

Note

ok so i'm new to reddie & so this may be wack, BUT... there is a scene i cannot get out of my head where richie finds out eddie can sing---can like, truly, honest-to-god *sing*. idk when/where it happens. maybe the gang's mulling around in someone's basement or something & eddie's idly toying with the keyboard in the corner, & richie plops down on the beanbag in front of him, & thinking absolutely nothing of it, he says, 'Serenade me, Spaghetti.' (part 1)

(part 2) eddie rolls his eyes and switches it on. he tinkers until he finds the Wurlitzer sound. 'Ooooh,' he says, eyes humongous. 'Ooooh?' Richie echoes, curious. Eddie smiles mischievously. Then, in my head, he performs Stevie Wonder's "As" & richie watches in rapt & reverent disbelief & realizes his feelings sharply & suddenly & now desperately needs space to think etc etc. idk if anyone'd want to do something with this. i just wanted to share it tbh lol. hope all is well with u!!

All’s well with me thank you! WAY BETTER NOW because oh WOW HELLO holy shit, you say you’re new to reddie but already I’m obliterated.

I love this, I do like to hc that Eddie is a better singer than Richie, though Richie’s more enthusiastic. Like Eddie probably sings to himself under his breath when he’s alone, but when Richie and the others discover he’s got a set of pipes they encourage him to join in on car ride singalongs.

Fjdhhfhd and poor Richie, he’s just reclining with his hands behind his head when suddenly Eddie’s SINGING and all Richie’s arm hair and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck all stand on end. He’s always trying to get Eddie to join in with him when he’s making up dumbass lyrics to existing songs (Richie wants to be Weird Al), and the first time Eddie does what Richie always does with Eddie’s name, subtituting Richie’s name in some song, like he’s singing it to Richie—well, Richie goes home that day walking on air. Tosses and turns in bed grinning up at the ceiling, because what does it mean, what does it all MEAN

God now I’m getting soft thinking about them as adults, and they’ve been dancing around each other for months. They’re out at some bar on karaoke night with the Losers and Eddie’s been practically vibrating with tension all night, keeps swiping his hand over his mouth. Finally gulps down another shot, clambers over Richie and elbows his way towards the little stage area.

Richie—well, he watches him leave first, obviously, he’s a red-blooded human in love—Richie turns to see all the others looking far too innocent. Especially Bill, who still takes umbrage at being the only one to get drugged in Derry and keeps trying to slip them all something whenever they meet up.

Just imagine him!!! 🥺 Eddie dressed all fancy casual and clenching both fists around the mic as he stares, Richie’s pretty sure, at somewhere around Richie’s collarbones. He clears his throat and seems to deliberate to himself, and then undoes his very topmost button. Someone whistles—someone who isn’t Richie and it’s only Bev grabbing Richie’s arm and Stanley covering Richie’s mouth that stops him from immediately rising to the challenge.

Haha, Eddie says. Thanks. Oh god. Okay.

Richie has propped his chin in his hand and sighed watching Eddie commandeer an entire Manhattan boardroom, the time Eddie forgot to turn off Skype before his meeting, Richie left unobtrusively in the corner. Eddie had been in his element, zapping happily at graphs with his laser pointer. But now he’s reminding Richie of that time in Bill’s garage, Eddie shaking center-stage and two wheezing breaths away from a meltdown.

Then Eddie mumbles something about this being 30 years late, but here goes. His eyes raise from Richie’s collarbones to his face, and he busts out this nervous but SOLID rendition of September by Earth Wind & Fire. The entire place joins in on the ba duda ba dudas, except for Richie. The last time he heard Eddie sing it was 1992, wavering and plunging up and down the cracks of puberty, but still good. Still hair-raising. Eddie points from the hip in their direction and breaks through the noise of the crowd cheering to say, simply, Richie! Like he used to, all those years ago. Two familiar syllables shining in the wheeling rockstar darkness of a famous song, and Richie’s insides twist up with joy just as bad as his restless, lovesick teenage sheets. Because now he knows what it means

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all-hail-the-witcher · 5 years ago

Text

nobody likes a claggy bit of cheese

this idea came to me in mid november while i was watching an episode of the great british bakeoff and crocheting a scarf for my sister while eating a very very healthy college lunch of apple sauce and caramel corn. someone (maybe it was paul) said the word “claggy” and i was like Wow That’s British. and then someone else (probably paul again) said “stodgy” and i was like WoW ThAts BriTisH. and then i was like you know who would appreciate these Very British Words?? my dumb friend who likes to pretend he's british. and thEn i was like Oh Shit what if he hosted great british bakeoff that would be energy oh my god. and i was About to text him that when i was like No Wait! instead of a baking competition it would be a Mac And Cheese competition because that's like,,,his wholes pride and joy. and then i was about to text him that but then i was like wAIT! this has fic written all over it oh my god i can see it now. and now here we are.

also mikey in case you didn't realize, you are my dumb fake british friend and this is your present but i mean its more of your persona slapped on race and i called it a day. its not a mothman shirt but it'll have to do eye guess

anywaymst

enjoy this trash pile

_________

ship: eye guess its platonic ralbert

genre: pure ass crack

warnings: uhmmm, race is an idiot, poorly written british accents, paul hollywood stare, uhhh, albert is Annoyed, jack is an idiot who makes bad mac, spot get Angryyy, idk im writing there before the fic is finished, katherine definitely knows the mafia

editing: lol that's funny

words: enough to fill a few pages but not enough to bore you to death like the metamorphosis

_________

“CHEESE!”

Blankets tornadoed around the room as Race jumped off the bed in a half awake sleepy haze, barely landing on his feet in a fight stance, wielding his phone like a weapon in front of him. He glared into the dark corners (not that he could even tell where the corners were considering that it was pitch dark) of the room before stumbling out into the hallway, muttering madly about cheese.

“Cheese...blue cheese…..string cheese…...mozzarella cheese….” Race barely heard his own half-mad whispers as he opened all the cabinets, rummaging around in the same matter a hurricane floods a basement, in a mad search for pasta. When he came up empty handed he scowled, sat himself up on the counter and yelled for the next best thing:

“ALLLLLLLBBEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRT!”

CRASH! That would be Albert falling out of bed. Race kicked his feet against the cabinet impatiently.

WHOOSH! SLAM! And there was Albert’s door opening and closing at an alarming speed.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! The pictures in the living room began to shake, announcing his arrival.

“Race?! What’s going on? Are you okay??” And there was Albert, sliding into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of socks and boxers (despite the fact that it was probably 3 degrees out), weilding a single black converse high top. Race wasn’t quite sure how the shoe was supposed to help him, but he decided to ignore it. He couldn’t afford to get distracted by Albert’s weird antics when there was a legitimate crisis at hand.

“Race…?” Albert asked again, slowly lowering his shoe. “Is everything-” “We’re out of pasta.”

“We’re- what?” The shoe Albert had been holding banged to the floor. “You’re telling me that you woke me up at” he peered at the oven clock over Race’s shoulder, “three fifteen am to tell me that we’re out of pasta?”

“It’s horrible isn’t it?” Race slammed his head into the cabinet behind him. “Now I can’t make mac and cheese!” “W h y do you want to make mac and fucking cheese at three fifteen in the goddamn morning?!”

“BECAUSE ALBERT-” Race jumped down off the counter, “-I had a dream. A dream where I was competing on The Great British Bakeoff and I made my Famous mac and cheese. And Paul Hollywood, the man, the legend h i m s e l f, tasted my humble mac and said ‘Race. That is amazing.’ And gave me a handshake! And I was so honored that I awoke hungry for the wonderful, delicious, creamy taste of mac and cheese. So I wander into the kitchen and what do I find? A fridge full of cheese, but no pasta to be found!” He stepped closer to Albert, planting his hand firmly on his shoulder. “This is an emergency!”

Albert swatted away Race’s hand and rubbed his eyes, already turning back toward his room. “If Paul Hollywood deemed your mac and cheese so amazing then just hold a competition of your own and make other people make mac and cheese for you. That way I don’t have to go to Walgreens at three thirty.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t make us lose our security deposit.”

Race stood in stunned silence as Albert disappeared down the hall and his door closed.

“That sleep deprived idiot might actually be onto something,” he muttered, launching himself onto one of the bar stools and opening his laptop. He had work to do.

•••

“You know, when I told you to host your own mac and cheese competition I thought I dreamt that entire encounter, and, now that I realize that I definitely didn’t, I especially didn't expect you to make me host it, and I certainly didn’t expect you to make me wear this dumb costume.” He tugged uncomfortably at the dark blazer and black wig.

“Oi mate, if you’re gonna be Sue yew gotta start actin like ‘er!” Race glared.

“But Race-”

“Thas Paul Hollywood to you. I don want none uh this ‘Race’ business,” he crossed his arms and gave Al his best Steely Eyed, Paul Hollywood Glare.

Albert just rolled his eyes and stomped off.

Race sighed happily as he turned to survey the tent in front of him. He had called Katherine last night after his missing pasta crisis and asked if he could use her Dad’s Hampton’s estate to host a mock version of the Great British Bakeoff but for mac and cheese. Katherine, like any good rebellious daughter, had loved the idea and called several of her “contacts” that apparently “owed her favors.” (Race didn’t understand the life of rich people, it seemed very extravagant and two-faced) And that was how Race had come to be standing in a tent with what could very well be the set up of the Great British Bakeoff laid out in front of him with he himself dressed in his very best blue button down and jeans, a spitting image of Paul Hollywood. Well, maybe Paul Hollywood 30 years ago.

His friends that he had invited on to be the contestants of the show were setting up at their stations. There was Jack, Davey, Romeo, Mush, Blink, Finch, Buttons, Specs, JoJo, Spot, Crutchie, and Smalls. Katherine had opted not to participate and instead film everyone to make it seem more like the actual show.

Someone (probably Katherine) had forced Albert to stand next to him to announce the signature challenge that they had prepared.

“Alright bakers-”

Race shot him a side glance.

“-er, mac and cheese cookers?” he tried to amend. “Today Ra-uh, Paul would like you to make a nice, hefty batch of mac and cheese. You may use whatever ingredients you would like, but he would like it to be cheesy, delicious, and contain pasta. You have 45 minutes.” Race could practically hear the sigh in his voice. “On your marks, get set, ba-cOOK!”

Finally, Race thought as his friends scrambled around their respective stations, I’m going to get some good mac.

•••

It was becoming very clear very quickly that Race may not actually be getting any good mac.

He wandered from station to station, Albert following begrudgingly behind him, progressively becoming more and more disappointed in each and every one of his friends. Didn’t any of them know how to cook?

“Roight Jack.” He leaned on the one empty scrap of counter in front of him. “What are yew makin?”

“It’s a surprise.” Jack - well he assumed it was Jack, he couldn’t really be sure with all the flour flying everywhere - ran around his workspace, which was crowded with every ingredient imaginable, from shredded cheese to, was that maple syrup?

“Jack for the sake of the show yew gotta tell us what yew’re makin.” Jack must not have the braincell today.

From somewhere in the flour cloud a timer went off. Jack yelped and dropped what sounded like several pots with an amazingly loud clatter.

“If you really must know - ouch!! - I’m making - god fUCK! - baked mac and cheese with a - SHIT! - crispy top.”

“Alright well,” Albert dodged a flying blob of flaming cheese, “we’ll leave you to it. Hopefully we get to actually eat something edible.”

“Good luck,” Race turned away from Jack’s workstation and leaned towards Albert as they made their way to Mush’s station. “Do we ave a foire extinguishah here?”

“I think so?”

“Good cause we moight need it.” Albert looked at him knowingly for a long minute before the two of them snapped out of it and approached Mush.

“So Mush,” Race said, taking in the polar opposite of the mess of a station that had been Jack’s, “what ave yew got for us?”

Mush smiled, looking up from the block of cheese that he had been grating. “Today I’m going to be making my signature mac and cheese with three kinds of cheese.”

Race let out an audible sigh of relief. Finally something that sounded edible!

“Is that pleasing enough for you, Your Highness?” Mush winked mischievously and Albert giggled.

Race straightened up, checking his mouth for drool (there was none). “Yes, oim looking forward tew it.” He watched as the cheese mush was grating flaked satisfyingly into the bowl, his mouth watering at the very sight and thought of cheese. Oh cheese. Beautiful, rich, delicious cheese. “Oi would like tew sample some cheese if yew don't mind.”

Mush straightened up, putting his hands around his cheese protectively. “And I want someone to slap me so hard my eyes fall out. We can’t all get what we want, Susan B. Anthony.”

“Hollywood, moi name is Paul Hollywood.” Race glared at Mush, horrified that he would decline him the judge a cheese sample! Paul Hollywood always got ingredient samples when he asked for them! Maybe he should have put more effort into his hair today…

“I know very well who you are,” Mush went back to grating his cheese. It was as if he were mocking Race with every bit of shredded goodness that fell onto the glorious cheese mountain.

“I do believe you’ve upset Mr. Hollywood.” Albert smirked. Of course he had to join in on the make-Race-feel-like-hes-being-mocked party.

“I don’t particularly care about Mr. Hollywood’s feelings,” Mush put down the grater and reached under his counter for a pan. “What I do care about is the fate of my mac and cheese so,” he stared at the two of them, deadpan , “be gone Thots.”

“But-”

“I SAID BE GONE THOTS!” Mush pointed a wooden spoon at the two of them menacingly and Race half expected sparks to shoot out of the end like some kind of sorcery bullshit, but all he got was a cloud of flour to the face and twelve sets of confused eyes looking at him.

“Uhh,” he mustered every ounce of Paul Hollywood that he could, “thank yew Mush.” Quickly he turned away, brushing the flour out of his sharpied on beard and mustache while Albert stifled laughter next to him. “Shut up,” he muttered.

“But that was-”

“Oi said shut- oh hoi Smalls!” He tried desperately to regain his composure as they approached the final station.

“Gucci Prada my fuckin clown wig I- oh, uh, hi!” Smalls quickly put the spatula that she had been holding behind her back.

“What are yew makin for uh today?” Race took in Smalls’s station. There was a wide array of cheese on the counter, we well as spices and breadcrumbs and pasta. But something seemed...different.

Smalls looked down at her feet, suddenly very interested in the carpet.. “I’m making gluten free baked mac and cheese.”

“Why gluten free?”

“Because,” Smalls glanced behind her briefly before hissing, “because that was the only kind of pasta I could find in my cabinet that's why you feet fucker.”

Race’s toes tingled with happiness. He do it! He could say the trademark Paul Hollywood meme thing!

“Now, when yew make mac and cheese gluten free it tends to get stickey and lose some of its taiste. Ave yew tested this to make sure that wont appen?”

“Y e s,” Smalls rolled her eyes. “I put extra oil in it so the pasta wont get sticky a n d there’s lots of spices for added flavor.” She brought her spatula out from behind her back in a soldiers salute. “I won’t disappoint you, your Highness Mr. Paul Hollywwod Sir.”

“Yew bettah not,” Race laughed as he walked back to his very official looking director’s chair (he didn’t want to know how many people Katherine had had to kill to get this).

“Sue, how much toime is left?”

“TEN MINUTES COOKERS, TEN MINUTES!”

There were varying screams of frustration from around the room as his friends scrambled to get done. The smell of cooking cheese wafted from several ovens and stoves and Race smiled contentedly. Twas almost Mac Time.

•••

Ten minutes later, as promised, Race was standing behind a Very Official looking wooden table with a fork and a glass of water, ready to taste (or spit out, depending on whose it was), his friends’ mac and cheese.

“Oilright, Davey, why don’t yew bring up yewr mac.”

Davey strode up to the table confidently, somehow without a spec of food on his apron, and placed down a plate of gooey looking pasta. Man oh man he was excited! But no, today he was Paul Hollywood. No excitement. Only glares.

He picked up his fork and took a scoop of pasta, glaring at Davey for good measure as he tasted.

He chewed for far longer than actually necessary to give Davey just enough time to get nervous before giving his verdict. “Whot yew’ve actually done is quite noice, Oi rather loike the blend of the cheddar and the goat cheese, but what yew’ve done is create something that’s so soft that its lacking textah. It’s loike Oi need somethin crunchy to offset it.”

Davey nodded. “Okay.”

“But overall noice job.” He nodded, the silent cue for Davey to take his dish and return to his station.

Race surveyed the contestants and grimaced. “Jack bring yew’re flamin bomb up here.”

He thought he heard Jack mutter some half-decent curses under his breath, but not decent enough for him to repeat.

A few seconds later a lump of orange stuff with green (???) blobs on top on a plate was placed in front of him. “Roight,” he sighed. “What ave yew got there?”

“Well this is my baked mac and cheese with green goldfish topping!” Jack said proudly.

Race looked at the plate as if it were a flesh eating disease that could kill him at any second. And, knowing Jack’s track record with food, it just might. “Any reason why you chose green goldfish?”

“Adds a pop of color!” Jack bounced on his toes.

Good gosh. Race took the tiniest bite possible on his fork and lifted it to his mouth-

“Make sure you get a goldfish!” Jack insisted. “Really adds a burst of flavor!”

“Oh sure, sure.” Race picked one up before shoving the whole abomination into his mouth. He chewed for a few seconds before swallowing down as best as he could.

“Wow that is pitiful,” Race coughed. “The pasta is overcooked, and the cheese, yew’ve cooked it too much so that it’s become gummy, and all the moistah has gone into the goldfish and made them soggy.”

“Oh,” Jack sounded deflated.

“Overall the textah is a bit claggy, and no one loikes a claggy bit of cheese.”

“Right, right.” Jack stroked his invisible beard.

“Overall its dreadful and Oi’d loike it if you removed it from my sights, preferably to the bin. Next!”

•••

Almost a half hour later Race was practically done testing all of the mac and cheese, save for Mush’s and Smalls’s. Along with Jack’s trashpile, Spot’s had also been notably horrible, it was somehow burnt and undercooked at the same time? Race didn’t even want to know. Crutchie’s and JoJo’s though had been surprisingly decent, and both were in the running to win.

“Oilroight Smalls, bring up yewr mac why don’t yew.”

A few moments later a plate of mac and cheese was dumped in front of Race with no class whatsoever. “Here you go Mr. Paul Sir.”

Race stabbed his fork into the pile of noodles. “This was the gluten free baked mac and cheese, roight?” “Yes your highness.”

Race rolled the noodles around on his tongue for a few long moments while his taste buds analyzed the flavor combinations.

“Roight so, I warned yew about this bein tasteless roight?” Smalls quirked up her eyebrow. “It’s tasteless isn’t it.”

“Yes. Get it away from me at once.”

“Of course, your lordship.” Smalls snatched the plate from the table, even curtsying to Race before making her way back to her station, picking up a fork, and digging into her own mac and cheese.

“I don't know what you’re talking about Mister Colonel Hollywood Sir, this tastes great!”

Race bushed imaginary crumbs off of his table. “And Oi’m goin tew pretend Oi didn’t hear that.” He pointed to Mush. “Mush, bring up yewr creation, if yew pleathe.”

“But of course!” Mush placed down his plate of mac and cheese in front of Race, who dug in immediately. “What you have there is parmesan, cheddar, and american cheese with elbow pasta. Enjoy.”

Race let the glorious noodles glide over his tongue as his palate was enveloped in a wonderful cheese flavor. He was amazed. He was astounded. Hell he was even speechless! What did Paul Hollywood do when he was speechless? Oh right!

“Well done Mush,” he stuck out his hand for the famous Paul Hollywood Handshake. “That’s a really great plate you’ve made.”

“Oh, thank you sir!” Mush smiled joyfully as Albert tried to sneak a bite of the mac and cheese. Race swatted his hand away with his other hand.

“In fact, it’s the best that Oi’ve had today, and Oi announce yew as Star Cooker!”

The room erupted into cheers and everyone ran to hug Mush while Race quickly finished his mac and cheese. His plan had worked perfectly. The next time he was out of pasta at three am he knew exactly who to call.

•••

“Hello? Do you need help burying the body?” A tired voice answered the phone.

“Mush, it’s Race. I’m craving mac and cheese and I don't have any pasta. Can you-”

“NO!”

_________

so how bout that huh

anyway sappy boi hours heh i love mikey and im real happy that were friends cause he's the absolute best and i cant wait to meet him next week eeee

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the tag list

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@deathcast-s

@the-poodles-of-pulitzer

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters

@humanracoon

@irondad-spiderson-duo

@albert-eats-cookie-cake

@nico-nat

@localfakeitalian

@carryyourownbanner

@writing-makes-me-antsy

@racetrackyeetgins

#saphie scribbles #newsies #newsies fic #ralbert #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #this is not a christmas fit its just a christmas present #*fic #heh #luv you my milky tot #;)#grandpapi #papi #suburban papi #oatmeal aesthetic dad #daddy #cricket feet #u make my feet tingle with happiness #SIX DAYS MAN

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thottiewinemom · 5 years ago

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50 Questions Tag

Tagged by @halfwaythereroyal thank you❤️

i’ve got fuck all else to do so:

1.) What color is your hairbrush?

i don’t really brush my hair in quarantine i think it’s black and green? idk

2.) Name a food you never eat

Ripe mangoes, the smell...i instantly vomit

3.) Are you usually too warm or too cold?

I have hyperhydrosis, waaaay to warm

4.) What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

drinking a truly lemonade watching phineas & ferb

5.) What’s your favorite candy bar?

reese’s!

6.) Have you ever been to a professional sports game?

few and far between, but yes

7.) What’s the last thing you said out loud?

"fuck me!” because my truly fizzed all over the carpet

8.) What’s your favorite ice cream?

cinnamon! but i’ve only seen it at the marble slab near my parent’s house

9.) What was the last thing you had to drink?

how many times am i going to mention my truly in this post LMAO

10.) Do you like your wallet?

okay listen, i’m a bartender outside pandemic circumstances so all my money is in single dollar bills and technically my wallet is just a large makeup kit. so yeah, it’s cute

11.) What’s the last thing you ate?

risotto

12.) Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

yes! i found artists making tshirts and donating to BLM projects and there was a really cool streetwear company and their designs were so cool

13.) What’s the last sporting event you watched?

uhhh...no clue

14.) What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

butter with peanut m&m’s in it, sweet and salty is the way to go

15.) Who’s the last person you sent a text to?

a groupchat called “Perverts and Rhexars luv xx” ...don’t ask

16.) Ever go camping?

when i was a kid yes! i used to go with my dad a lot

17.) Do you take vitamins?

i ONLY take children’s gummy vitamins, pills make it less fun

18.) Do you go to church every Sunday?

19.) Do you have a tan?

i used to, lost it after living in cloudy nyc for 3 years

20.) Do you prefer Chinese or pizza?

new york dollar slice all the way

21.) Do you drink soda through a straw?

yes so it doesn’t stain my teeth

22.) What color socks do you usually wear?

it’s either solid black, or game of thrones/star wars patterns, there’s no inbetween

23.) Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

i was raised in texas so, yes of course

24.) What terrifies you?

being a failure in comparison to my family’s expectations (cue Mulan)

25.) Look to your left, what to you see?

my juul ontop of my nintendo switch

26.) What chore do you hate the most?

laundry

27.) What do you think when you hear an Australian accent?

so weird but i think of when little mix did that accent challenge and jessie couldn’t think of “jamaican”

28.) What’s your favorite soda?

if i ever drink any it’s ginger ale, is that even a soda?

29.) Do you go in fast food or in the drive through?

drive through, there’s rona out there...

30.) What’s your favorite number?

8, it was my water polo number when i played, and that’s how my body is shaped LMAO

31.) Who’s the last person you talked to?

not a person but my mom’s dog, i was complementing how squishy he looks

32.) Favorite cut of beef?

i don’t eat red meat

33.) Last song you listened to?

super rich kids by frank ocean

34.) Last book you read?

do fics count? (yes they do @ all you amazing fic writers) i read Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk for the film class i just finished last week

35.) Can you say the alphabet backwards?

no i have baby brain

36.) Favorite day of the week?

wednesday, pre-rona that was happy hour & trivia at the bar night after classes with my friends

37.) How do you like your coffee?

not too much sugar and soy milk

38.) Favorite pair of shoes?

my doc marten’s

39.) Time you normally wake up?

i am simultaneously a night owl and an early bird so i’ll wake up at any time my alarm says it’s time to get up. i can sleep until well past noon though

40.) Sunrise or sunsets?

sunset! alexa, play golden hour by kacey musgraves

41.) How many blankets on your bed?

5? a heated one, a sheet, a light knitted blanket, my duvet, a tiny fleece that i sometimes throw over my face to keep light out, and my “I 💜 1D” blanket. listen i live in a basement in nyc it’s frigid at night and i CRANK the a/c in the summer

42.) Describe your kitchen plates?

the plastic teal ones from target lol, i’m very clumsy i can’t do ceramics

43.) Describe your kitchen at the moment?

messy, i’ve been baking all day

44.) Do you have a favorite alcoholic drink?

gin mule, extra lime

45.) Do you play cards?

with my family yeah

46.) What color is your car?

like bright cherry red

47.) Can you change a tire?

i can, but i’ll definitely break one of my nails. if i can call someone and wait i’d do that instead

48.) Your favorite state, province, country, etc.?

state? texas for the price, new york for the experience. country? austria, i went after i graduated high school and that city felt so alive

49.) Favorite job you’ve had?

definitely my bartending job since it’s steady and really good money but i sometimes get contracted to photograph concerts and a free show never hurts

50.) How did you get your biggest scar?

i was drunk at an outdoor concert my friend and i collided way too hard on the hug and her jacket zipper caught my arm. so now i have a battle scar from a t-pain concert.

tagging: @huliabitch @niceboypaolo @finelinebaddie @wanderedcreature

#this was fun

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funnynewsheadlines · 5 years ago

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I Made These 80 Costumes Using Stuff I Had In My House

I'm a Philly-based comedian. I live alone with my cat, and I have not touched another person in eight weeks. But I have built a sense of community. When the quarantine started, I randomly posted online that if people sent me Halloween costume ideas, I would recreate them using just what I had in my house. Since then, I have posted at least one costume every day, and sometimes as many as four or five. I also integrate my cat, Scrappy, into my costumes whenever possible. She might have a stronger following than I do. The Instagram I started for the project, and have an engaged following, also I have a steadily growing request queue.

More info: Instagram

#1 Cher

There’s even been some celebrity engagement. I did a costume of Justin Long in Dodgeball, and he left a clever emoji in the comment section. I’m also a big fan of Justin Long’s podcast, Life is Short with Justin Long, and the “shorties” in the podcast’s Facebook group have cheered me on as I tried to recreate some of Long’s more iconic characters. I portrayed the O.J. Simpson prosecutor and author, Marcia Clark, and she reposted the costume on her wall (where someone made a hurtful comment about my eyebrows, which are admittedly very distinctive). Fran Drescher’s nephew, Lyle, another comedian with roots in the Philly scene, texted her my Nanny costume, and she said it was really cute.

#2 Zoolander

#3 Eleven

Humor has always been my coping skill. I’m a goofball. With so much uncertainty in the world right now, it’s really exciting that I am able to add some levity to people’s days. A lot of people were putting up their Christmas decorations as a way to spread some cheer, and I thought, “I don’t have any Christmas stuff, but what if I made every day Halloween?” I’m a comedian, so brightening people’s days by being a goof is all I’ve ever wanted to do. A lot of my friends in both the Philly and Minneapolis comedy scenes have been supportive of the project. My family has been really into it too, and I like to send my costumes to our group text before I post them online, so they know they saw it first.

#4 Joe Exotic

#5 Harry Potter

For my 100th costume, I did a live Zoom show, where I created the costume in real-time, while viewers called in with guesses about what the costume would be. It was a lot of fun and gave me the fix I used to get from doing stand up for a crowd. Viewers were also able to donate to my Venmo. Even with all of the gigs I lost when the pandemic hit, that live show let me pay my rent this month. Many open mics and shows have moved to an online format, and it has actually been pretty fun to get to watch comedy from my bed, couch, or toilet. Navigating the online format was challenging, but my friends Joshua Machiz, Jordan Berger, and Johnny Hart volunteered to be my production team, so I only had to worry about the artistic elements of the show.

#6 Poison Ivy

#7 Rocky Balboa

I’m thinking of doing a live show every 50 costumes since it doesn’t look like I’ll be performing on stage for a packed house any time soon. I figure I can donate a portion of the proceeds to a different non-profit every month, and hopefully, my little 'quarantween' community can make a real difference that way.

#8 Marlon Brando

#9 Sarah Jessica Parker

#10 Barbara Holland

#11 Britney Spears

#12 Jack Sparrow

#13 Billie Eilish

#14 Weird Al

#15 Tommy Wiseau

#16 Jessica Rabbit

#17 Krumm

#18 Lydia

#19 Robbie Rotten

#20 Charlize Theron

#21 The Crow

#22 Sean Connery

#23 Adam Sandler

#24 Eevee

#25 The Undertaker

#26 Aang

#27 The Joker

#28 Tom Hanks

#29 Wednesday Addams

#30 Loki

#31 Cousin Itt

#32 Kylo Ren

#33 Lucy

#34 The Grinch

#35 Daria

#36 Abraham Lincoln

#37 Beetlejuice

#38 Yeon-Kyo

#39 Dr. Evil

#40 Kermit The Frog

#41 Charlie Chaplin

#42 Carmen Sandiego

#43 Velma

#44 Selene

#45 Pamela Anderson

#46 Momo

#47 Waluigi

#48 Audrey Horne

#49 The Hamburglar

#50 Ruby Rhod

#51 The Nanny

#52 Jimmy Neutron

#53 Yoshi

#54 Darla

#55 Trinity

#56 Tifa

#57 Belle

#58 Jared Leto

#59 Evil Willow

#60 Ripley

#61 The Jesus

#62 Man In The Iron Mask

#63 Leia

#64 The Dude

#65 Tina Belcher

#66 Dr. House

#67 Val Kilmer

#68 Benjamin Franklin

#69 Miss Frizzle

#70 Tusk

#71 Pee-Wee Herman

#72 Marla Singer

#73 Olive Oil

#74 Big Patty

#75 Count Von Count

#76 Princess Peach

#77 Carrie Bradshaw

#78 Judy Garland

#79 Joan Of Arc

#80 Leeloo

from Funny – Bored Panda https://ift.tt/2YIIExG via IFTTT from Blogger https://ift.tt/2SMxP9T

#funny news #funny videos #funny news today #funny photos

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daveofthedead13 · 5 years ago

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30 Days of Writing Challenge - Day 18

Day 18: Post 30 facts about yourself.

30 facts?! Okay, here we go...

I’m 5’7”.

I was born with REALLY blond hair, but it’s gotten darker as I’ve gotten older.

I always wanted to be involved in filmmaking. As an actor, then a director, then as a makeup artist. I’d still want to do all these things, but I don’t have the time to make it happen.

I’ve always been a goofball, for as long as I can remember.

I’ve only had one girlfriend.

That said girlfriend is now my wife.

This year will be 14 years together.

The earliest thing I can remember drawing was the house from Blue’s Clues.

The earliest memory I have is Christmas when I was 3 because we had a home movie of it.

I play three different instruments: guitar, bass, and drums. I’m not very good at any of them.

I have over 60 different sets of dice for D&D.

I’ve been typecast as a doctor at a haunted house for four years in a row.

It’s hard for me to do long driving by myself. Longer than 30 minutes? I start falling asleep, especially if it’s a straight boring road surrounded by corn.

The first rock/metal album I ever got was Sinister Urge by Rob Zombie.

Prior to that I listened almost exclusively to Weird Al.

The first song I ever learned to play on drums was Frantic by Metallica.

The first song I learned on guitar was Breaking the Law by Judas Priest.

The first (and only) song I know on bass is Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes.

My first concert was Iron Maiden with Dream Theater opening for them.

I do special effects makeup, mainly wounds and gore for the haunted house.

One of my favorite duties at an old job that many may look down on is roadside mascot at Party City. I just listened to music and acted like a goofball while dressed like Ghostface.

The game that I could always go back to would probably be Guitar Hero: Warriors of Rock. That was the peak of the series and I wish I had a way to go back to it.

Whenever my D&D character Gob gets emotional, it’s so easy for me to feel what he does. Gob is me, and I am Gob.

One song in my playlist that stands out, due to it being so different from what I listen to normally, is Fujiyama Disco by Silent Siren. It’s an all-female Japanese rock band and totally worth a listen.

My first pet death happened while I was on vacation. My parents didn’t tell me about it until we got home.

The first horror movie that ever scared me was Child’s Play 2.

My brother used to give me nightmares by whispering into my ear, “I’m the leprechaun…” and I’d have nightmares about the horror movie character The Leprechaun.

I broke my brother’s nose once by hitting him in the face with an old corded telephone. I was like 5 or so.

I’ve been to Tokyo twice. The only repeat thing we did was go to the Pokemon Center.

When I get old, I want to have a long Merlin beard.

#30dayswritingchallenge #writing challenge #writing prompt #day 18

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spooky-scary-imagines · 6 years ago

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Hi :) would you write one where ChopTop met the reader the the radio station along with Strech*idk if i spelled it right* but the reader dressed similar to him and was in a band herself makeing ChopTop love struck and just his stuttering getting worst and forgeting what to say witch the reader finds cute maybe it would get slightly nsfw to to the ebd but you can pick its ok if its just fluff :3 *sorry if its to long*

((Sorry this took so long! Gotta love my boy Chop-Top and this prompt not only gave me an excuse to rewatch his intro scene but it also seems super fun! It is a challenge to figure out dialogue for him tho because he’s so bizarre in all the best ways. This one didn’t end up being too romantic but I’ve been thinking about maybe writing a continuation for this just cause there’s so much more I can do with it. So let me know if any of y’all are interested! Tagging: @i-cant-get-with-it

Chop Top meets hippie s/o @ the radio station:

It’s been a pretty rough week at the station. Your good friend Vanita had gotten a terrible call-in the other day. Initially she thought it was a prank, as the men had been obnoxious all day, but even she couldn’t ignore the terrible screaming and shill grating of metal on metal. Not when she saw that article in the paper that seemed to match the call-in. She had told you about the plan she devised with some old sheriff, about playing the tape over the radio. To you it seemed like a bad idea and a great way to put a giant target on her back, but she was insistent that she had to do it and make a difference. Despite your worries, you couldn’t just leave her alone, so you decided to stay with her after that night’s broadcast.

Tonight had done nothing to ease your concerns, angry callers had been cursing out the station and since Stretch first aired the tape. L.G. seemed to be the most upset by it, talking about how much trouble Vanita was going to get into, though anyone with eyes could tell how soft he was on her. Sadly, it didn’t seem like the feelings were returned quite the same way. At least not yet, you thought, as you watched her turn down his offer to grab some coffee with him. Guess you two were sticking around for this “Lefty” guy.

Shortly after L.G. left, you heard the phone ring. You went to reach for it, but Stretch got there first. “Hello?…Hello?…Lefty?” You could guess from her side of the conversation that she was being met with silence. You raised an eyebrow and she looked at you, equally confused. The mysterious caller hung up. “What the hell was that all about?” you asked.

“No clue,” Stretch shrugged, “We get some weird callers sometimes, but-.” As if on a cue, you two heard a small slam from the other side of the station. Vanita’s eyes flicked to you. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Stretch had been gone for a suspicious amount of time, when you decided you needed to go after her. You stood in the doorway of the hall leading to the lobby. From there, you could hear Stretch and a strange male voice, talking manically. “Hi, I know what you’re thinking. This is weird. Hope I can handle it.“ You peered out into the lobby, there you saw Vanita nervously backed against her desk, across from her was an odd man. He appeared to be in his 30s, dressed in patched and campy hippie clothes, the odd look topped off with a shappy mop of black hair and lavender Lennon specs. Though a somewhat tacky outfit, it reminded you of the way you and your bandmates dressed, especially when hanging out around at festivals. He started getting up and moving towards Stretch, and you walked out from the doorframe. Both sets of eyes looking your direction.

“Uhhh, hey man…what’s up?” you asked, awkwardly trying to redirect him. He turned to you, and looked you up and down, face unreadable.

“Wh-Who the hell’re you? I thought it was j-just the DJ?”

“Well it isn’t space cadet! Who the hell are you?”

“I-I-I’m just a fan,” he turned back to Stretch, “Me and my little brother, Bubba, we listen to this show e-every night.” He turned back to you with a sick grin, “Music…is my life.”

You smiled at that, “Oh? I dig it. I’m in a band myself.”

His eyes went wide at that, and the barely contained manic energy in him seemed to ramp up, “O-Oh yeah? Wh-What’re you like? Something h-h-heavy? Like-like Iron Butterfly!”

You chuckled. Despite him being kind of a freaky-deaky dork, you had to admit the spaz was kind of endearing and a little cute. “Kinda. We’re more like Vanilla Fudge or Quicksilver Messenger Service than anything.”

“Far-Out! So-”

“I hate to interrupt,” Stretch cut in, “But the station is closed for the night.”

The man turned back to her, a strange glint in his eye and a sick grin that made you shudder. “Well, y’see, I wa-wanted to phone in my request but, but I al-al-always get too nervous, y’know?” He paused for a reaction before continuing, “But, well, since I’m here. In-In flesh-and-blood…I figured I could just give you my request now right!

Stretch looked to you for help and you just lifted your hands in a shrug-like gesture. “Uh, sure, sure. You can tell me your request and then you need to leave.”

The man chuckled, and started heating up the coat hanger he was holding with an old rainbow lighter. “Al-Alright…How about Cold Stone Fever from uh, Humble Pie! Or uh…” he picked at his scalp, ”In Da Vidda da Gadda babey. Heh heh yeah…” he turned to you, “Real, uh, heavy stuff, y’know.” You hid a laugh behind your hand, at his goofy smile and the fact that he got both song titles wrong.

Then that menace was back in his eyes, “Or…how about s-something like that, uh, Lefty r-request record you played today? How’d it go again?” You and Stretch’s eyes went wide as the man screamed and growled in mimicry of the terrible sounds of the attack. You looked at each other in mutual fear at this man standing between you and the exit. “Wh-What was that anyway? R-Rambo III soundtrack?” he chuckled at his own joke. “Could you play it again? Or, uh, m-maybe you co-could get me a copy!” He grinned, “You could both sign it. To-To-To a far out fan!”

He seemed to respond better to you so you spoke up, “We, uh, actually don’t have a copy. Sorry sir. But we could, er, play your other requests.”

Something dark passed over his face that you couldn’t quite place. He looked to the side in the records vault. “Hey, uh, is this where you keep the golden oldies? And mayb-” The rest of the sentence was cut off when the lights suddenly flipped on, revealing a horrifying giant wielding what looked like a chainsaw. You and Vanita screamed, she ran off towards the back rooms while you ducked out of the way into the far corner of the room behind and hid on the far side of the sofa. You heard the man from earlier hollering in pain and wailing at the giant to “Get the girl!” You saw the giant run after Vanita through the door, and you peered out from your hiding place. You watched the man from before scream and clutch at his head. “He dented my plate! My brain is burning! Nam flashback! Nam flashback! Leatherface, you bitch, I’ll…Oh just look what you did to my Sonny Bono wig. Oh, God damn it!”

You listened to the man’s cries of pain and rage from your hiding place as you resisted the urge to help him. Judging from what you could make out from his rant, he was clearly with the man trying to kill Stretch. Oh god…Vanita…what have you gotten yourself into? He eventually managed to get to his feet and began to go through the records vault, muttering something about dogs hunting. You covered your ears and tried to block out the terrible sounds coming from behind the door leading to the recording area.

You heard a door open from the other side of the room. “Hey! What the shit?” L.G was back! Maybe he could get the police and everything would be okay.

“Lick my plate you dog dick!” the hippie yelled, flipping L.G. the bird. It would have been funny if the whole situation wasn’t so terrifying.

“What the fuck you think you’re doing in here, you crazy-looking little son of a bitch? Get out of here!” You wanted to scream at L.G. to run out of here and get help, that these guys were totally buggin and super dangerous. But you stayed quiet for fear of revealing your position. This turned out to be a lethal decision as the man lunged at L.G. brandishing a hammer. “Time for incoming mail!” he shrieked, slamming into hammer into L.G.’s skull, “Ho Chi Minh!” Over and over you heard the sickening thuds through your covered ears. You squeezed your eyes shut but you couldn’t pretend it just wasn’t happening. Hell, the same thing was probably happening to Stretch right now .

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt the warmth of the tears sliding down your face, but someone else did. You open your eyes to see the killer’s leering face less than a foot from your own, “H-H-Hey there, rock’n’roll b-bunny! T-th-th-thought I lost ya t-there.”

“Please, don’t kill me,” you sobbed, “I’m, like, really sorry for whatever’s making you upset.”

This seemed to make the man nervous, and he started picking twitchily at the edge of a metal plate embedded in his skull. “I-I…I ain’t g-gonna, er, kill you. J-Just…” he looked around the room frantically, as if trying to find a solution to his problem. He spied the hammer over by L.G.’s corpse and his face broke into a grin. He scrambled to grab it, whipped back around, and started getting closer to you, arms out ahead of him as if you were a spooked animal. And I guess in a way you were. “N-Now do-don’t move or-or nothing. It It ain’t gonna h-hurt.”

Your soft sobs turned into bawling, “NoNoNo Oh God PleasePleasePleasePlease Don’t do this Please don’t do this!”

You noticed some emotion flash across his face that you couldn’t figure out. “A-one and a-two and a-three!” and the hammer fell down on your skull. You collapsed, yet you kept fading in and out of consciousness. You heard footsteps coming through the door to the studio and what sounded like the two men having a one sided conversation. “Did you get her, Bubba? Did you get that bitch? She was my fave…but-but she knew! And now…nobody knows!…L-look what you did to my plate, you bitch!…Y-You got her? Di-Did you get her good?…Slap me five!

You heard footsteps coming closer but you couldn’t see what was happening as you felt yourself getting dragged over to a damp section of floor. “I got some too. Bonus bodies! Look at that beef,” you vaguely felt a slap against your thigh, but it was as if you were made of cotton. “Help me get it out of here!,” said the hippie as you felt yourself be hoisted onto the larger man’s shoulders.

You were tossed in what seemed like the back of a truck, though you were so dizzy it was hard to tell. Finally you succumbed to your head injury and passed out. The giant, Bubba, left to sit shotgun and only Chop-top stayed by, standing over you with a dopey look on his face. “Don’t wo-worry baby, we’ll b-be home soon,” he gave you a sloppy peck on the cheek and ran back around to the driver’s side. “Alright Bubba! Let’s blow this pop stand!” he yelled, and sped off back to where the rest of the family was waiting.

#YEE-FUCKING-HAW #chop-top sawyer #bubba sawyer #texas chainsaw massacre #slasher imagines #slasher

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