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arch-venus25 · 3 years

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The Head and the Heart, Part 1

Hello everyone,

I am submitting this for @just-the-hiddles‘s The Damnit Jim, I’m A Vampire, Not A Landlord Fic Frenzy. I chose prompt “1....You can pay your rent in money or in blood.” I was inspired by all the prompts and will probably use them throughout the series. Basically I use the prompts as guide-lines.

This is the first time I have written and shared a fic online-- or ever really! It’s also the first time I’ve written anything modern so please let me know what you think! I hope I’m posting this correctly--I created the title art--LOL I’ve never done this before. I’m aiming to update the series each Tuesday. So here we go...

Series Masterlist: The Head and The Heart

Summary: The twins are taking a night off from their graduate studies-- or at least Tessa is; her twin sister, Antha, is just trying to keep her out of trouble. What starts as a night of good old-fashioned fun and flirting quickly changes as they find themselves at the doorstep of the Hollow House Bed and Breakfast.

Characters: OFCs Antha and Tessa King, original characters/vampires

WARNINGS: 18+ for suggestive themes and violence, cursing, implied drug use, implied rape, stressful/scary situations, vampires, and characters with incredible hair-- you’ve been warned. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 2770

Part One: Faced with Foolishness

“Well, you know Tessa, she’s being Tessa,” Antha murmured into her phone as she watched her twin sister cozy up to her flavor of the month; Tessa flipped her box braids off her shoulder, the beaded ends flirtatiously tinkling against every surface they met. As if watching a photo negative version of herself, Antha mourned her nonexistent reputation. Had she not spent years hiding in her books she may have been able to rival her uninhibited doppelganger in white hot-pants.

“Why do you let her do this to you? It never goes as planned, and next thing you know I’ll be cleaning you two up and feeding you McDonald’s at two thirty in the morning!” She didn’t need facetime to picture Doug wincing through the phone, pushing his Buddy Holly styled Ray-Bans up the bridge of his nose.

“So what you’re saying is how could I let Tessa do this to you?” She laughed, rolling her Havana twists through her fingers to fight off the June humidity. Talking to her best friend helped her forget just how long she had been holding it in line to the bathroom.

“Ant, look I don’t like that bar—you want me to come get you?”

“And leave her? I can’t do that—listen, if we don’t call you for a ride home by midnight just come get us. I’m exhausted and I don’t think she will party that long. Besides, you-know-who just showed up.” She watched as Franco the Flake appeared, wasting no time to linger over her sister—Tessa’s flavor of the month, forgotten within an instant. Antha’s eyes rolled like marbles as she turned away to better hear her friend on the phone; some fraternity boys nearby began fist-pumping into the air as the bartender served up a line of shots for them.

“Ugh, the Flake… well I can hear things are getting started on your end—I’ll keep my phone on me, just don’t drive. Leave her car and I’ll get you two—there’s maniacs out there especially on Friday night.” He warned.

“I owe you,” she groaned and hung up. Antha finally arrived in the ladies’ room, only two women away from her sweet release. She watched as the women cornered the mirror like crazed wanton things, bending and zhuzhing, adjusting their “girls” to their perkiest potential through scantily low apparel.

“Heeeyy…” She quietly greeted the woman that exited the nearest stall. The stranger gave her a haughty elevator eye from head to toe making her feel severely underdressed for a Friday night out. When she threw on a sun dress today, she never anticipated her sister would abduct her after class and have them gallivanting across town. Tessa’s exact words were “Godamnit Ant, tonight we’re gonna have fun if it kills us!” A Cheshire Cat grin spread across her face as she floored the accelerator of her Neon, then cranked up the bass as the radio station started their basement remixes. Fun if it kills us.

Antha stared at her white sandals, her nail polish was chipped and at least three weeks old. Then she looked to her messenger bag hanging on the back of the door. It was covered in Community College film badges and club stickers, per her friend’s preferences. Antha liked her graffitied messenger bag. Like a billboard, it made her appear she had a life outside of her graduate studies.

She should have been at home, text books spread on her lap, feet up. She could hear Doug’s old Buick coughing its way up Momma’s drive, then fumbling outside the door, trying to knock with a third of Popov, case of Dogfish Head, and pizza in his arms. Then he would throw everything on the coffee table and announce “I brought Casablanca!” to which she would say “Oh, more white people movies?” and unphased, he would reply “Good god woman, it’s not Birth of a Nation!” Antha smiled, thinking of their weekly ritual of pretending to do research while gossiping long into the night until Zoey and Tessa would drunkenly Uber home. The distinct shamble, like the walking dead, would scrape up the gravel drive signaling their arrival.

“Hey, you almost done in there?” An annoyed voice yelled over the door, cutting through her reminiscing. Antha could see the reds of the stranger’s eyes between the door crack.

Instead of lounging on the couch surrounded by good beer and even better friends, Antha found herself being hustled by some Fireball-turned-up twat—all under the guise of having fun. “Yeah, sorry about that.” She replied and flushed. She tightened the belt holding in the billowy fabric of her flowy, mid-thigh, sunflower-printed sundress. It was passed down from her grandmother to her mother and so on. Looking like she walked off the set of a 90’s music video, she admitted that at least she was cooler than the other girls sweating in their skin-tight jeans and heels.

Some pretty young thing burst through the door past the line and vomited into the trash bin next to Antha while she washed her hands. It was only nine o’clock. That was a bad omen. When she caught her reflection in the mirror, she realized she pouted just like Momma in those sorts of situations. She dampened a paper towel for the poor thing and could hear her mother’s words repeating in her head: “When you’re faced with foolishness—you take care of it.” Her mantra: Take care of it. Antha’s mantra: Do what Momma says. Tessa’s mantra: If it ain’t fun don’t do it.

Antha applied her vanilla lip gloss as she thought on her mother. She made a promise as Momma was lowered in the ground that they would graduate. It was her dying wish that the twins became modern women with college degrees and to have options; to escape the laboring of farming and perhaps even the rinse and repeat of corporate Delaware. That’s all there was in their state: Farming or banking.

She tucked her shoulder-length braids behind her ears; she truly missed her dreadlocks, but ever since the time Tessa’s boyfriend mistook her for his girlfriend, she cut them off. She was always the one to compromise. Not tonight she decided. Tonight was going to go her way. They would wrap up this foolishness by midnight.

Antha sighed and knew it was time to face the havoc of the bar when a chatty patron pawed at her sundress asking if it was “vintage”. She replied, “Well it’s old as hell if that’s what you mean,” and hurried out the ladies’ room into the sweltering cacophony of nightlife.

Fighting across sticky tile and sweaty rednecks she made a beeline for the bartender. “Mar, can I get two?” She bounced on her tip-toes to cut through the crowd huddled around the length of the tacky wooden bar. Maria motioned to the other side because she couldn’t reach through. Antha continued to fight her way through the herd. She could barely hear over the din of the 2016 campaign commercials and sportscasting when Maria slid two cocktails toward her. The southern comfort and coke cocktails reeked with vanilla syrup, Tessa’s favorite. Antha stared into the melting rail drinks and realized she didn’t know what to order herself because she was always the water-boy for her twin.

“Hey, did you see what’s-his-face is in town?” Maria interrupted her thoughts.

“Sure did.” She groused and tilted her head in the general direction of where she saw Tessa and Franco last. Through the bodies, for a moment, the crowd parted and the two stared.

Stepping back from her esteemed role as the older sister, by barely two minutes, Antha admitted to herself that Tessa always looked good. Her off-the-shoulder top exposed a flawless ebony collarbone, shoulder blades, and arms. As if she was the Queen of Sheba incarnate, her tiny wrists were decorated with gold bangles. Her earrings matched the beads in her hair, reflecting light in her hazel eyes. A waterfall of thick box braids fell down her back and over her shoulders, past the tops of her thighs. Her years of dance complimented the country-chic white cut-offs that revealed just a hint of under cheek when she bent across the billiard table.

“If I were a man, I’d pray for her to bite my head off quick and painless.” Maria laughed, her ponytail frizzing from the heat of her work; her hands rapidly dipping then shining high ball glasses.

“But that’s not her style.” Antha replied wryly.

“You’re both good girls. Now you keep her out of as much trouble as you can—I’ll send Kyle ‘round to your table with beers, just let me catch up here!”

Maria was right: they were good girls. All of Tessa’s shenanigans aside, she never forgot cake for a birthday and with everyone’s break-ups she always had a bottle of Jack stashed with a shoulder to cry on. Tessa was the one that painted Antha’s nails and always lent her the best outfits when the event called for it. On occasion she was even known to deliver soup when her sister ran a fever.

Tessa was the heart of the operation and Antha couldn’t begrudge her just because she was the head.

For better or worse, they were sisters.

Antha reluctantly clutched the chilled drinks and felt a pang of relief in the sweltering bar. She couldn’t see her sister at the billiard table with the onslaught of shuffling patrons, so she decided to move toward her booth. She narrowly missed being covered in appletini as the DJ scratched in one more summer top ten into his rotation. Before she could move forward a voice pinned her in place.

“Your sister’s the worst, you know that?” A nice-looking guy glared at her. His teeth gleamed pink in the red bar lights. Antha bet he had a handsome smile on account of those white teeth, but he was not smiling now. She squinted through the hazy dance floor and recognized him as the guy Tessa arrived with before Franco appeared.

“Hey John, don’t fret, Tessa’s just catching up with an old friend—he comes into town every so often, don’t get upset.” She yelled back at his face as kindly as she could manage over the blare of the oncoming band tuning their instruments. For some reason he didn’t seem to believe her and his chest instinctively puffed up.

“John? I’m José!” He replied. Antha felt embarrassed for both her sister and herself. She grimaced unintentionally, realizing she had said it all with very few words.

She tried to defend their position with a weak excuse. “José, I’m bad with names and faces—” but he stormed off before she could piecemeal a string of bullshit. There goes another Mr. Last Month.

This was having fun. Antha doing damage control on last month’s flame, while Tessa stoked a new one. All of the nice memories of her sister evaporated in the heat of the interaction. She grumbled to herself, as she had grown tired of babysitting, not just Tessa but the men-children she dated. When she finally confirmed her party’s booth, she parted the shadowy sea of basic bitches.

Tessa was giggling like a school girl when her sister dropped the sweaty glasses onto the ratty old table. Franco at her neck like a leech. I hate this guy, Antha thought to herself. He turned his hot gaze on her, “Hi Antha, didn’t see you there.” His drawl was thick like humidity. She thought about giving her drink to Tessa’s date, but now that she could see he was it, she plopped down and selfishly sipped one of the nasty cocktails without offering the second.

“Oh hey Brian,” she said playfully, “where’s your camera?”

“Ant, now you know this is Franco, stop playin’!” Tessa tore her eyes away from him for a split second, but after she threw her daggers she was back ogling him like a dog does a bone.

“Sorry, it’s hard to keep all these blue-eyed, blond, gentlemen straight.” Antha marginally resisted saying yokel under her breath.

Tessa had a type. Beyond all logic, light eyes were the buckle in her knee, the hitch in her breath; and Franco was at the top of her list. Antha assumed he was the Porsche in her garage amongst a long list of Ford’s, but she honestly didn’t know the whole story. All she knew was that Franco showed his face sparingly and only after dark. He would disappear for weeks at a time, which earned him the endearment The Flake.

Now, Antha hadn’t dated enough men in her young life to sort them by color and size, but Tessa had. To her credit, her tastes were diverse, she did her research and knew what she liked. No one blamed her either. With that hair and those legs, Tessa could have anyone she wanted. The great appeal of Franco didn’t add up to Antha though. She found him suspicious. She thought his truck was too loud, his jeans too torn, and his eyes much too heavy.

Franco made idle conversation, inquiring after the twins’ classes as if he cared. His blond, three-quarter parted hair was glossy under the dim lights. When he pulled his tooth pick from the back of his ear and chewed on it, it made him look like an old-fashioned mobster—well until that Delmar twang spilled out of his hillbilly mouth. There was an allure about him; all of his parts matched, but his smile unglued those pieces. A smile that never quite reached his eyes.

Antha found herself sizing him up, drinking the disgusting cocktail faster than she wanted. I bet he has plastic zip ties and rope in his truck bed, she thought. She didn’t truly know why the image popped into her mind, it was just a feeling she got when his eyes were on her; made her feel like a snack, as if he would eat her alive right where she sat. No more Unsolved Mysteries for me this week, she insisted to herself.

“Mmmm-hmmm.” Was the best response she could offer when he spoke to her directly. Tessa continued chatted about her business management courses as he deeply stared at her. Antha figured there was no real room for her in the conversation so she took out her world cultures text and flipped to her last page. She liked hanging out, however her final thesis was demanding all of her energy. The page fell open to vampires in the section of Egyptian mythology. She thought how ironic as her eyes shot up at the man sitting across from her.

“So, there’s this bonfire by Slaughter Bay, I thought you ladies could come with.” Franco suggested lazily like it was too exclusive to be excited about. “You can shotgun babe and we can put Antha and her friends in back.” He eyed the textbooks growing damp on the table. Antha finished the first SoCo and started the second just to cope with him. “You could call up the girls.”

“Zoey… Zoey... Zoey!” Tessa dramatically said into her drink and then laughed. Antha couldn’t help but smirk as Tessa explained to him her girlfriend was like Candyman and could be summoned via a pint of beer. The joke was partially lost on Franco.

Before Tessa could agree to go Antha piped up, a little less shy now that her liquid courage had kicked in. “Sounds awfully romantic, but we can’t.” Before she could continue she was interrupted.

“Hey girl haaayyyy!” Zoey appeared as if out of thin air and snatched one of the beers sent over by the bartender. “You goin’ nowhere without me—not after I Ubered across town!” Her two rando friends hollering and sloshing their drinks.

“How the hell do you do that?” Antha insisted, amazed that their friend appeared.

“Uhhhh, never you mind—we can make bonfire plans later—its ten o’clock, I’m here and Bieber is playing! GET UP!” Zoey declared, the glitter from her eyes dusting every surface.

“Keep an eye on my friends.” Antha told Franco as she abandoned her books to be dragged to the floor. This was the moment she decided she was getting them all out of there; she didn’t like the sound of a bonfire with him and she certainly wasn’t allowing Tessa to go on her own either. She sent a pre-written text message to Doug: “Get here.” Which was their code for its really going down, I need back up.

Twinning Taglist: If you want to be added or removed just let me know; please share with anyone that might be interested. I would love any and all feedback so I can learn and become a better writer. Thank you! I tagged some people that I thought would be interested in this. @myoxisbroken @just-the-hiddles @vodka-and-some-sass @nildespirandum @yespolkadotkitty @latent-thoughts @emeraldrosequartz @villainousshakespeare @hopelessromanticspoonie @caffiend-queen @poetic-fiasco @lokimostly @dianamolloy @marvelgirlonamarvelworld @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0 @cateyes315 @mooncat163 @nuggsmum @plastic-heart @myraiswack @wolfpawn

#landlord vampire fic frenzy #twinning vs vamps #arch-venus25 writes

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stranger-who-writes-fiction · 3 years

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Me, throughout the entirety of 6x05:

And I suppose I could just leave it there but NO, we’re doing a LIST. Of all the excellent things from “Prom Night!”

SPOILERS!

AV Club reviewer giving this episode the first ‘A’ of the season: :D

AV Club reviewer still insisting that “Midvale” was filler: D:<

Forever destined to disagree with the AV Club reviews in some way or another...

Okay, so! We begin with a very helpful reminder from Alex that things are different, in this Post-Crisis World!

(I mean, on the one hand, am I slightly distressed that key aspects of the Pilot and the WHOLE of “Midvale” are now gone, along with Earth-38? Yes.

On the other, Kara remembers her lived-experiences of everything that had transpired in the Earth-38 timeline, so they still sorta happened and have informed her characterization.

So...it’s fine. It’s fine. This is fine.)

I do love that, ‘Kara punched a meteorite out of the sky’ is now a Thing That Happened, though.

(Well perhaps NOT ANYMORE but I’m getting ahead of myself.)

KENNY LIIIIIIIIIIIIIVES!!!!!

“Scooby-Duo” listen, as someone who has already imagined all these kiddos in Hanna-Barbera cartoon style, running around Midvale, solving crimes and saving the day, I loved this description.

Alex being like, ‘DO. NOT. SCREW UP. MY PAST.’ ahhhhh we love to see that scary Older Sibling energy on full display.

And then Brainy and Nia are off to the past!

The only thing that could’ve made the utterance of ‘totes’ worse would’ve been the addition of, ‘magotes’. Thank goodness they exercised restraint in the writers’ room.

FORTUNATELY the terrible ordeal of reliving dated slang is offset by some truly excellent lines and line-reads throughout the rest of the episode.

For instance! Loved Brainy’s, ‘the perfect optical illusion’ and ‘off the dash, please.’ So great.

Other honorable mentions: ‘Damn it, Mitch!’ ‘That’s a LOT of exposure’ and I forget the line itself but when Cat’s like, ‘normal town my a--’ and then the cut to commercial break AAAAAHHHHHH so good.

Okay, back to the episode, Nia and Brainy, on the Legion Cruiser, AND THEN!

AND THEN AND THEN AND THEN!

OUR KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDS!!!!!

I love them. It won’t happen, but gosh, I want a Midvale spin-off so bad.

Like, the Crisis retcon made some space in the girls’ past for a spin-off to actually...kinda work.

(But sustaining the premise across multiple episodes/seasons would be tricky and there would always be the threat of running up against like. The current show’s continuity.

But hey! They could just ignore it, I guess! That’s what the Superman show is doing!) *insert frowny emoji here*

So the kids have gathered with Alex for milkshakes, which is delightful.

But ALL IS NOT WELL! As Alex reads about the ‘luckiest town’ and is like:

(Except with a lot more anxiety and frowning)

I feel as though we already knew Alex went to Stanford but I can’t remember if Kara’s (terrible) resume revealed that she went to National City University?

*Checks* Yes it did.

Another thing I LOVE is just. Alex as the Responsible One, whose anxiety is perpetually cranked to a 9.5, driving the Scooby-Duo around in the suburban mom van for super-ing jobs.

Also, ‘super-ing’ is an excellent verb, 15/10

Young Cat Grant! ....More on her later.

Nicole and Jesse did such a great job with the comedy in this episode--their initial attempt at a cover story/lie is so good.

And the masterful transition into an actual good lie that Nia knew would win Kara over...VERY NICE.

Kara being so obviously thrilled that there are OTHER ALIENS! WITH POWERS! HERE, IN MIDVALE! RIGHT HERE!

Fandom has ruined the whole ‘Kara has golden retriever energy’ as is their way but I must say...very much getting ‘excited puppy energy’ here.

Nia and Kara comparing powers was so CUUUUUUUUTE!!!!

As was the picture on Kenny’s desk of him and Kara. D’aaaawwww.

(But OH NO SADNESS...BECAUSE A BREAKUP IS IMMINENT.)

Okay in addition to all of the incredibly adorable content we also get lots of FAMILY FEEEEEEELINGS, which: Yes, good, yes.

But Eliza is only here as a PICTURE on Kara’s nightstand and a NAME on Alex’s badge, I am sad. :C

(Hope Helen Slater is in this last season at some point...need that soothing mom energy after all the Phantom Zone angst)

I think I’m out of order now but Kenny wanting to help Kara help people is just. The most adorable thing.

Spoiler alert: I use the word ‘adorable’ a lot in this list. Sorry...but also not.

The Brainy music when he’s in the school computer lab watching the printer is really great. I think we’ve heard it before, but it meshed so well with the whole vibe of both the character and the episode, just stood out nicely, I guess.

Okay, so. Do we think that Jesse could always do the baseball bat tricks, and the writers wrote it in, or do we think that he learned them for the show? My money is on the former.

Either way, very impressive.

And now for the truck situation! I kinda thought it would turn out that it was Cat’s doing, as she was trying to suss out the ‘super’, but nope, it was the blue dudes.

(Which makes more sense, since they have no qualms about endangering other people.)

And ON THAT NOTE, the blue guys! They are the perfect level of ridiculous, and they are wonderfully straightforward in ways that the Phantoms are not.

Also, I love that one of them is named Mitch?

Nia and Kara save the day!

After Kara busts the brakes and is like, ‘uhhh....they’re not working’

I noticed the Metropolis license plate and while yes it’s a little strange that plates are...apparently city-based in this corner of Earth Prime, stranger still is that Cat presumably drove clear across the country to check out this story. Right? Like, that’s the only way she has that plate out in Midvale?

Wait, wait. Totally forgot to mention Kara and Nia’s EXTREMELY OBVIOUS ‘don’t be suspicious’ sunglasses gambit at the Midvale College campus you absolute DORKS.

Right, so.

Remember those FAMILY FEELZ??? WELL!

We’ve got Nia’s call to her mom, which, oof. OOOOOF.

And then we have even MORE FEELINGS aka: The garage talk.

Okay. OKAY. So even though I’m a little sad “Midvale” no longer occurred in Earth Prime’s timeline, I am fascinated by the ways this new series of events have impacted Alex, Kara, and their past. (Also thrilled that Kenny lives, natch). Alex’s resentment and the burden of ‘protect Kara, PROTECT KARA’ have been left to simmer while Kara’s determination to help people has led to some...earnest but slightly careless secret hero work. The building blocks of the conflict introduced in “Midvale” are still there so while it might at first seem a little...repetitive, for Alex to lay all this out to Kara, it’s really just the reveal of a new boiling point; a post-crisis update on the scene in Midvale where Alex is like, ‘I had two parents before you showed up.’

AAAAAAAAAHHHHH IT’S EMOTIONALLY DEVESTATING I LOVE IT.

And then like. The new, but also not-new angle, of Alex leveraging her world-weariness against Kara’s youthful optimism/somewhat reckless desire to help, and then Kara throwing BACK that she’s explored other solar systems.

The LAYERS.

Also that Alex is like, ‘we need weapons, let’s tell mom and also call the DEO,’ classic Alex.

The garage talk ends with Kara determined to come clean to Kenny...BUT OH NO, THE HERO HIDEOUT IS SO CUTE, AND KENNY IS SO DEAR.

And the reveal that the almost-kiss in “Midvale” actually happened d’awwwww these kids.

Like. I am legitimately torn, here. I totally understand and support Kara in being honest with Kenny about the whole college situation--but also GAH. KENNY IS SO NICE AND CUTE AND EARNEST.

You know what ELSE is nice and cute and earnest?

Nia singing “9 to 5″ to Brainy to cope with stress and boost morale.

Heckin’ adorable, gosh.

Aaaaaand some other stuff occurred as the episode closed out but I don’t have them in my notes and BASICALLY I want the next hour like, now. Right now. Because this was WONDERFUL. FROM START TO FINISH.

So some Overall thoughts!

I said we’d get to Cat ‘CJ’ Grant later, so here we are: I...think I liked her? Overall? It was a performance that gradually won me over, is how I would describe it.

Absolutely wild that Cat built a media empire in a mere six years.

Also her whole, ‘I am going to find this extraordinary being and name them and kick Lois Lane into the classifieds’...I mean she eventually gets two out of three, there.

As I already started to mention, sad that Eliza wasn’t here! But it makes sense, since a lot of this, Kara is trying to keep on the DL.

Obviously, I am ALWAYS down for these flashback situations with the young Danvers. But it was also nice to take a break from the Phantom stuff. The plot here is simple/streamlined in a way the Phantom stuff...isn’t. I love the emotional character stuff coming out of the Phantom Zone arc but wow, the Phantoms are just. Needlessly complicated.

The little episode recap where Lena is explaining that Phantom Prime is like a bloodhound was like, ‘oh right, they do that too...in addition to all the other stuff that they apparently do.’

So, yes. Welcome change.

The change of scenery + type of action was nice too!

Though RIP to everyone’s hair, fighting against the moisture.

This episode also handled the Brainy/Nia relationship really well, IMO. Like, due to the whole, ‘trying to fit so much in, always’ approach to Supergirl episodes sometimes results in a bit of...one-sidedness, for various characters. Think for instance of Kelly needing to cheer everyone on in episode 2, but not having space for her own feelings/emotional needs in that episode.

I’ve felt that a bit with Brainy and Nia thus far--one will sort of take up more narrative space, so the relationship feels a little lopsided.

NOT SO HERE! They are both going through some stuff, they are both struggling to cope, they both come to rely on one another for help.

YES. GOOD. YES!!!!

Something I’m loving about season 6 overall is that so far, it doesn’t feel like the plot is stepping on character development too much. Like, it still isn’t a perfect balance, and some episodes manage it better than others, but compared to season 5? Leaps and bounds.

Everything was so nicely tied together and the dialogue was witty, the humor was delightful, EVERYONE WAS ADORABLE AND EARNEST AND DID I MENTION ADORABLE?* but they never lost sight of the themes and emotional through-lines and GAAAAAHHHHHH MIDVALE EPISODES ARE THE BEEEEEESTTTTTTTTT!

*Okay Alex was mainly stressed out but that’s to be expected.

TL;DR - Best episode of the season thus far? Best episode of the season thus far.

#SG post #long post #supergirl spoilers #supergirl season 6 spoilers #gif

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sound-of-the-cosmos · 4 years

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30 Day Whump Prompt Challenge: Day 10 (Manhandling)

Fandom: Detroit Become Human

Pairing: Family! Au (Hank is readers dad, Connor is just a good friend)

Summary: When Gavin won’t leave you alone, you decide you have to take care of the situation yourself. Things go wrong in a way you don’t expect them to.

Warning: Degrading talk, basically abuse (I don’t condone this-)

You dreaded work. While working at a police office wasn’t stressful on it’s own, it definitely made it hard when a certain co-worker wouldn’t stop trying to hit on you.

Even since day one, Gavin Reed has decided it was his mission to make you his bitch. You, of course, hated this with a fiery passion. Hank would help, and while he was far from a perfect father, he did help with dealing with people you didn’t want to.

Connor was Hank’s partner, and he’d become something like an older brother. He was the most patient with Gavin, but today he’d finally stepped in like he hadn’t before.

Gavin stands by your desk, trying to get your attention with some stupid story he was making up as he speaks. You were focusing on the report of the case you were to be assigned to the next day, and he slams his hands down. “I’m talking to you, goddamnit! Do you never listen to anyone?”

Rolling your eyes, you grab your coffee and begin to take a sip. He slaps it into the aisle, and you look up at him with both anger and wide eyes. “Are you fucking serious?” It was then that Connor walks up to your desk after witnessing your drink go flying.

“Detective Reed, I believe you’re bringing some discomfort to Detective L/n. I would advise you to walk away before things escalate.” While respectful, his words carried an underlying threat, and Gavin seemed to pick up on this, as he makes an angry noise before turning on his heel and walking off.

Sighing, you smiled up at Connor a little. “Thanks- I could’ve handled him though,” You run your fingers through your hair, and while nodding, he nods lightly.

“I’m well aware of that; I simply didn’t think the other officers would appreciate having to clean blood off of the desks and floors.” Slightly chuckling, you bob your head in agreement.

“That’s fair. After work though, I’m gonna talk to him. This has to stop.”

Work flies by, and before you know it, it’s 9:00.

You clock out for the day, and take a deep breath. You hated Reed for the amount of discomfort he’d caused you since you’d joined the DPD. All you wanted was to help make the world a better place, and the world just threw you a finger, sending him your way.

Stepping out of the DPD, you flag down a taxi, rambling off Gavin’s address. You were going to stop the problem tonight. You’d had enough.

Stepping out of the Taxi, you glance at the house in front of you. This was happening, and it was happening now. You walk up to the front door, ringing the doorbell. You were going to attempt to talk about how his actions, and how they made you feel. You had your gun and some pepper spray just in case things didn’t work though.

Gavin opens the door, eyes widening to see you on his doorstep. “Y/n, didn’t expect to see you here,” He smirked a little, and your stomach twists. You had to stay strong though.

“I wanted to talk to you about some things. Is it alright if I come inside?” You gesture with your head, and he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he lets you inside. You step past him, and he shuts the door behind you, locking it without you noticing.

“What did you want to talk about?” He flops down onto his couch, and you sit respectfully on the chair across from him.

“Listen; you may be a great guy, but the comments and whatnot at work really need to stop. It’s making it hard to work, and I’m sorry but I really don’t like you in that way.” You state truthfully, folding your hands in your lap, keeping eye contact.

It’s your last line that causes his eyes to darken. Standing, he growls as he begins to walk towards you. “You think you can come into my home,” He says, anger swimming across his features, “And disrespect me like that? He’s towering over you now, and your gut screams at you to get out of there. You don’t listen, too stubborn to even give it thought.

You stand, meeting his gaze steadily. “I do. I thought I should talk to you like an adult, but I’m beginning to see that giving you even that much credit was a mistake.”

Fury ignites his features, and he grabs your arm, pulling you away from the furniture. You cry out in alarm, but he slams your body into the wall, your face bouncing off before resting there once again. Your nose hurts, and you’re pretty sure it’s bleeding.

Your arm is wrenched behind you, and you cry out in pain. “Fucking bitch, what did I see in you? Maybe your body just made me think there was more to you, huh?” He grabs your hair, pulling you off the wall now, your back against his chest. He yanks your hair downwards, and you’re forced to look up at him in the corner of your eye.

“You’re nothing, do you hear me? None of the people we work with will notice if you’re gone.” He sneers, throwing you towards the couch. You try to catch yourself, barely doing so before standing up. Before you can do anything, he kicks the back of your knees, forcing you to kneel.

He then brings his knee to your face, and you can’t avoid the impact, nor ignore the fire blossoming from your nose and face. You crumple to the ground, and he laughs. “Look at this! One of Detroit’s cops can’t fight back, huh? You don’t deserve your badge; You’re no different than the whores that work at the Eden Club.”

He kicks your stomach, bringing you to almost vomit while coughing violently. This was a stupid idea, why did you try to talk to him? He grabs a fistful of your hair, bringing you up to look at him, his face contorted into a smug grin. “Not so tough, are you?”

He lets go, and you crumple into a heap under him. He grabs your legs, and begins to drag you. You scream, grabbing onto the couch, other pieces of furniture, or door frames as he pulls you further into his house. No matter how hard you held on, he would always pull hard enough to make you let go.

Your vision is blurred by tears. What was he going to do? You couldn’t reach your gun, nor your spray. You were fucked, completely screwed-

The front door slams open, Hank rounding the corner with Connor on his tail, both of their guns trained on Gavin.

Hank looked pissed most of the time, but that was nothing compared to the rage that overtakes his features once he sees the state you’re in. “Let her go, you fucking prick.” His voice is an octave lower than usual, and Gavin merely grins, bringing his hands up after letting your legs fall with a thump.

Connor runs past Hank while he keeps his gun trained on Gavin. Connor carefully picks you up bridal style, and you’re too dazed to complain. He grits his teeth; he’s almost certain that you have a broken or fractured nose, and a concussion.

Gavin was going to pay, because no one fucks with Hank’s kids.

At least, they don’t get to tell the tale.

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mayansmcx · 4 years

Text

Hell Hath No Fury - An Invitation (part 2)

The car ride starts off just like any other car ride between two people who don't know each other but now have to spend the next two hours together: quiet and awkward.

After a few minutes of tense silence, I decide to muster up the confidence I had right before we started our drive back. Luckily, charging head long into conversations in potentially uncomfortable situations is something I'm great at.

"So, how long have you known those guys?" I ask.

He looks at me quickly before shifting to lean against the door. His eyes are fixated out the window as he replies "Coco, man I don't even know how long. Feels like forever though. And EZ, I've known him since he was born."

"Brothers?" I inquire.

"Yeah but I got the better genes in the family 'cuz clearly I'm the sexier one" he says as he lays his hand on his chest in emphasis.

"Well I was just gonna say that, obviously. Poor EZ must have had such a hard time growing up with a GQ cover model as a brother," I laugh.

He seems more at ease too, "You say that like a joke, but we both know I'm fine."

I shake my head and chuckle and we return back to the previous state of silence.

"So..." he begins, apparently feeling like it's his turn to break the tension, "how long have you worked for Pena? I haven't seen you around much before."

"You make it a habit to know all of the Mayor's staff?" I start to joke. "But no, I've been here about six months now."

"What is it you do for her exactly?" He asks, his interest seemingly genuine.

"I basically oversee all her staff. Handle the day to day stuff, coordinate things for her, advise her on things. I'm pretty much her right hand." The answer never changes but the more I have to explain it, the more boring it sounds.

"So she says jump and you say..." he starts off before I jump in.

"I say 'how high? Through which hoop? Have you considered what me jumping through this hoop will do for re-election? Have you considered how jumping over skipping may impact our optics?'" I rattle on.

His eyes widen a second as he processes what I'm sure is my alarmingly unpolished personality. "How'd you get into working here?" he fires off another question.

"Well, in college I majored in Political Science. My dad got me into politics at a young age. I tried on a bunch of different majors: Nursing, English, hell, even Philosophy, but none of them kept my interest and I'd find myself debating constitutional rights and policy with the weird school protestors. After I graduated, I did a fellowship program up in Sacramento in the Capitol. From there I headed up the campaign for a Congressman and when he won election he brought me on as his Communications Director in DC. Shortly after that, he made me his Chief when his other one crashed and burned." I explain.

"Is the money good?" He asks

"Growing up my dad always told me 'you can do anything for money but if you spend 40 years of your life doing something you hate, you will never be happy.' But that being said, no, the money doesn't suck for the most part. I took a huge pay cut coming from DC to here, but I'm happier. Or at least I think I am." I tell him

"So why aren't you in DC?" He prompts further.

"That's a long, complicated story. Anyways, what about you? Are bar fights your favorite hobby?" I ask, hoping he'll gloss over me trying to change the subject.

"Not always," he says, "but sometimes people piss me the fuck off".

"So you're a hot head" It's not a question, but a statement.

"I like to think I'm just a passionate guy." He jokes.

"Ok, hot head" I laugh.

The rest of the ride, the tension dissipates. The conversation remains light; I talk a little bit about college and some of the things I've seen and done in DC, and he tells me bits and pieces of his story in return, neither of us delving into anything serious or heavy.

We work our way back into Santo Padre and he starts to guide me to wherever it is I need to drop him off.

"So where is it that I'm taking you?" I ask.

"The scrapyard. Bish will probably want to see you again, you know, to say thanks and all that" he tells me.

"That's fine" I tell him.

We eventually pull up into the scrapyard, which based on the signs is called "Romero Brothers Scrap & Salvage". I park and Angel and I both exit the car.

"This way." He indicates as he sets off to the main doors.

We walk in and see everyone dispersed around the room. EZ is behind the bar that Coco is sitting at, while Bishop and Taza are casually talking to other members on the couch.

"Hey Prez, we're back." Angel interjects when their conversation seems to hit a lull.

Bishop looks up and sees us both, stands up, and walks over to us.

"Glad to see you in one piece, Angel" He slaps his hand down on Angel's back twice. "And Lennon, thanks again for doing this for us.' He says earnestly.

"It was no trouble at all, my pleasure really. It's not every day you get to be on the inside of Fight Club" I smile, hearing Angel suck his teeth and bite back a retort.

"Coco says you scared the piss out of the badges." Bishop says, sounding amused.

"They got under my skin. When people get under my skin, my mouth runs faster than my brain can filter. The results are always amusing for someone, not always amusing for me though" I smirk.

"Sounds like you and Angel have that in common" Bishop says, a smile on his face.

"Seems so. Only I have the common sense to use my mouth and not my fists." I wink at Angel.

"I bet you do." Angel catches the innuendo I inadvertently made.

Rolling my eyes, I look back at Bishop who is now flanked by Taza.

"ANYWAYS," I sarcastically emphasize, "it was a pleasure helping you guys out." I tell the two leading members.

"Thanks again" Bishop nods, he starts to turn away before quickly facing me again. "We're having a get together tonight. You should come so we can express our gratitude properly. There's booze, and we'll even have Angel fight tonight that way you can see what it is that you released back into society." He smirks.

"Yeah, that actually sounds great. I don't get out much since Toni... uh Mayor Pena... is the only person I ever really see. Work is never done, ya know?" I tell them.

"'Toni?' You and the Mayor are tight?" Coco suddenly jumps into the conversation; I was unaware he'd been listening.

"Yeah," I say, pissed at myself for letting that slip. "It's not something I like to broadcast. I'd rather people know I got here on my own merits than thinking I'm just my friends lapdog. I met her during my fellowship." I explain further.

"That one up in Sac, right?" Angel asks without missing a beat.

"That's the one" I smile.

"Angel finally pays attention for once" EZ jokes.

"Tch, shut up, EZ" Angel shoves him.

I'm thoroughly enjoying this interaction, feeling incredibly comfortable in the presence of men who are well documented to be on the other side of the law when I see a black Escalade pull into the scrapyard.

"Seems you guy have some company, let me get out of your hair. I'll see you guys tonight. What time?" I ask the group.

"Eight O'Clock" EZ tells me.

"Alright, see you then" I smile brightly as I start to turn around. With all the smiling I've done today I thank god my parents invested in good orthodontia work when I was in high school.

"Shit!" I hear one of the men say as I press my hand on the door to swing it open.

As I make my way through the lot back to my car, I see the men start to exit the Escalade, but can really only make out the details of the two closest to me. The man coming from the back is well dressed in what is easily a designer suit. His hair is styled meticulously, and his face is well chiseled. The man next to him has two long braids and even from a distance looks intimidating. As I slide into my car, I make eye contact with them both. I start my car and begin to pull away. Looking in my sideview mirror I can see they are still watching me; it's almost as if they want to ensure I leave. A chill rushes down my spine briefly which causes me to laugh.

I've been in the room with serious power players before, two random men from a tiny city in the middle of nowhere are hardly any threat. I think.

#mayans fx #mayans fic #mayans fan fic #mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans #angel reyes #ez reyes #coco cruz #miguel galindo #nestor oceteva #sons of anarchy #soa #bishop losa

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emergenciesstory · 4 years

Text

Fight For you

Pairing: Boxer! Steve x Former Boxer! Reader

Words: 1262

For @star-spangled-bingo Square “Boxer AU”

A/n: I’ve had this in mind for a while, before the bingo boards came out, and this just solidified that I should post it. So much rewriting and editing late, Here is a soft fluffy little piece.

A/A/N: Texts in Italics

You maneuvered the streets like an old pro, sliding in and out of the coming traffic.

Steve: Will I see you after the match?

You: If not tonight then tomorrow, love.

You grinned at your phone, thinking about your surprise. Your phone buzzed again, making you roll your eyes playfully.

Steve: but I want to see you tonight

You laughed imagining the pout on his face as he sent that.

You: And I’m sure your trainer wants you to focus rather than text me. Fight hard tonight.

Steve: Just for you, Doll.

You smiled, slipping the phone back into your pocket and continuing on. Not too much later, you saw the lights of the fight club come into view. People were lined up surrounding the building as you knew the matches began a while ago. You nodded to Vision, The bouncer, and slipped around the side of the building to the fighters door.

“Y/n! We weren’t expecting you Tonight!” Wanda pulled you into a hug as you slipped into the door, checking something on her clipboard. “His fight starts in about five minutes, give or take.”

“I figured I could surprise him.” You smiled.

“Well, you know where to head, through the locker room, hang a left before the hold and you’ll be in the viewing box.” She gestured behind her, going back to her clipboard and giving you a smile as she answered someone in her Coms.

You gave her a squeeze and ventured on into the Locker room, mostly empty as most fighters moved to the hold or viewing box. Nat sat on a bench, legs crossed, book in hand.

“Don’t let word get out the dangerous black widow reads books in her spare time.” You smirked, grabbing the redheads attention.

“Don’t let them find out the Captains Girlfriend could probably take him in a fight.” She sassed back, without looking up.

“Touche.” You laughed, moving to the viewing box. You slipped through the door, the roar of the crowd muffled slightly by the glass separating the lounge from the secluded stands. Many of the fighters lied to watch but not be seen by obsessed fans and you honestly didn’t blame them.

“Little Minx, How are you?” Bucky’s deep voice rang out once you had come in, pulling you into his lap.

“I’m good, Buck. Not fighting tonight?” you asked, looking at his relatively untouched face. “Figured you’d be bleeding by now.”

“Figured I’d save him for you. Bring back Little Minx. Still time for you to sign in for next.”

“Oh, Buck, you know I gave up Boxing long ago.” The roar of the crowd pulled your attention, a new match coming up.

“That’d be my call.” You said softly, standing and heading to the reserved seats. A few fans noticed you step out of the box, excitement on their face as you waved.

“Fight!” you heard the announcer yell, looking to see your Boxer in the rink. His mouth guard flashed as he adjusted it, taking defense at first. You could see his mind running a strategy based on the other guys rhythm. He was tight, organized, you watched as the two danced around each other, neither landing too many harsh punches.

“That's Wilson, Code name Falcon. He’s been known to knock out the competition in round two.”

“He’s good.” You said to Bucky, who wrapped his arms around you. “Careful, you will be in a fight if Steve catches you.”

“Let him. You were my fighting partner first. The little punk owes me for meeting you.” He sassed. You heard the end of the match get called, both going back to their corners. Steve was listening intently to his coach, Tony, most likely warning him of the KO potential. You watched Tony glance up at the box, smiling when he spotted you. You placed a finger to your lips, and he nodded slightly, handing Steve back his Mouth guard without telling him you were there.

The fight began again, and you saw the change in fight style in Wilson, subtle but enough to throw Steve off his blocking pattern. You slipped down, flashing your badge to Pietro and moving to Steve's coaches box.

“Didn’t think you were going to be here.” Tony grabbed your hand, eyes trained on the fight.

“I wanted to surprise him.” you smiled, watching intently. “He needs to loosen up, his next hit is all over his face.”

“He’s not used to someone who changes patterns.” Tony sighed, “One of the reasons he might lose this fight.”

“Let me talk to him.” You said simply. Tony nodded as the round ended, Steve dropping back into his stool placed in the ring.

“Listen to me, loosen up.” You said in his ear, leaning over the ropes. Steve’s eyes shot to you, a stupid smile covering his face.

“You’re here?”

“Watching you get your ass kicked, yeah, I made it.” You laughed. You kissed his cheek softly. “Let go, use your instincts.”

“I’m trying.”

“No you’re not. You’re in your head. You’re predictable.” Steve nodded in understanding, hyping back up to go out.

“Finish him so we can go home.” You sassed, handing him back his mouth guard. Steve jumped up, a new sense of energy in him. You jumped down as the round started, smirking at Tony. You walked back up to the box, no longer watching the match, but knew by the sound of the crowd that it was almost over.

You waited for Steve in the Locker room, Chatting with Nat from where you sat in Bucky’s lap.

“Hands off my girlfriend, Barnes.” Steve's voice was laced with fake anger as Bucky leaned back, you still perched in your spot.

“Shouldn’t be my hands you're worried about, Punk.” He smirked as you pushed him, standing to your feet.

You got on your tiptoes, placing a kiss on Steve's cheek as his arms wrapped around you.

“Since you won, I guess it's my turn to buy at the bar.” Nat said, being the only one to not fight, and therefore win, that night, a longstanding rule between the fighters. You all gathered the last of your belongings and slipped out the back door.

“-Bringing an undefeated victor down, with a little coaching in the last round by Former Boxer and girlfriend, Y/n, Also known as Little Minx. Here they come now.” A reporter smiled at your gang, all coming to stand around, smiles on your faces. “Steve, Do you have anything to say about your latest victory?”

Steve looked at his friends surrounding him, and then at you before looking to the reporter and camera.

“Everything I do, I do for her. I’m so blessed to have amazing support, and be faced with the challenge in the ring brought by The Falcon.”

“Y/n, do you ever plan to get back in the ring?” The reporter smiled at you as Steve wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your head.

“If I get called back, I’d love to pick up my career again. But for now, I’m content in cheering from the sidelines, and may explore other more stable options, focus on my future, perhaps, even a family.” You smiled and said your goodbyes, Steve pulling you back from the group as you walked.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, Blue Eyes sparkling with hope.

“Starting a family with you?” You asked innocently. “I did.”

Steve’s lips captured yours before he picked you up, running towards your friends in pure joy, your laugh lighting up the path behind him.

#SSB2020 #Boxer AU #steve x reader

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buckybarnesbingo · 4 years

Photo

BBB Week 17 Roundup! This week includes, amongst the awesomeness, the Round Robin fic we did for the BBB Discord Party!

Congratulations to Faustess, Raz, and Peach, who each won a token (fabulous art by Raz!) in the drawing for who attended the party.

Reminder that our late signups are OPEN, and we will be accepting badge claims until August 1st.

Now go give these participants some love!

Title: End Of All Days - Chapter 25: Epilogue Collaborator: Minka Link: AO3 Square Filled: B5 – Mercenary Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: Descriptive violence Summary: Captain Steve Rogers had thought his military days were behind him, left in the bloody nightmare that was Saigon. Retired and working as a History Professor, the last thing he expected was to get caught up in a cataclysmic Slavic prophesy foreshadowing the end of the known world. With Cold War tensions running high, Steve finds himself in need of a guide and translator to get him behind the Iron Curtain and into the isolated snowdrifts of Siberia. It’s deep in the heart of Bucharest’s resistance fighters that Steve finds the ideal candidate, but swaying the enigmatic ex-operative known as The Winter Soldier proves to be complicated. Trust is hard-won, especially in the world of espionage, and with a KGB death squad nipping at his heels, the Soldier has countless reasons to stay presumably dead. As the lines between right, wrong and the supernatural begin to blur, Steve is forced to reconsider everything he’s ever believed, right from the sanctity of his own country to the very foundations of creation itself. Word Count: 116,780

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Title: Friday night and the lights are low - Chapter 7: Bucky/Loki Collaborator: HeyBoy Link: AO3 Square Filled: ? Ship: Bucky/Loki Rating: Teen Major Tags: art Summary: Bucky is a vet, recently back home and finally healed from his injury. In an effort to blow off some steam and meet new people, he hits the club every weekend. It turns out that this particular nightclub is also a favorite hangout for some local superheroes. Word Count: 1408

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Title: Your Wrists Collaborator: grimeysociety Link: AO3 Square Filled: B1 - Begging Ship: Bucky/Darcy Rating: Explicit Major Tags: PWP, Handcuffs, Rough Sex, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones Summary: In the middle of moving Bucky into her apartment, Darcy finds his handcuffs in his bedroom drawer. Word Count: 2594

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Title: Dragons of Brooklyn - Chapter 1 Collaborator: crazycatt71 Link: AO3 Square Filled: B1- shapeshifters Ship: Stuckony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content Summary: Steve & Bucky are the Alpha mob bosses of the Dragons of Brooklyn. Tony is their Omega and secret genius partner who runs the business lots of sex, some possessive behavior, and a little violence. In this chapter, dragon sex in the sky and teasing their Omega Word Count:

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Title: The Other Earth Collaborator: fightingforcreativity Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K5 - Great Depression Ship: WinterIronWidow Rating: Mature Major Tags: Amnesia, persumed dead, Family, mystical creatures, slight crack (later), bakery Au elements, mention of alcohol abuse Summary: Bucky had a cat, had a job at a local bakery and some odd jobs here and there. At night, he would look in the sky, trying to figure out the constellations, seeing the stars differently than he faintly remembered. At the same time on one of those stars far away, a star named Earth, Tony Stark held his baby boy, whispering, “One day, you’ll know you’re the world.[…]”(will be updated when I do more for this) Word Count: 368

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Title: Club Can’t Even Handle Me - Chapter 1 Collaborator: tisfan, 27dragons Link: AO3 Squares Filled: 27dragons - K3: Undercover in a Gay Bar tisfan - C3: free space Ship: WinterIron Rating: Mature Major Tags: undercover, gay bar, dancing, flirting, sex, rushed sex, anal sex, semi-public sex, getting together Summary: The Avengers have gone undercover to find a target who’s been frequenting clubs and bars. It’s probably just a coincidence that Bucky and Tony have been assigned to cover this bar, but that doesn’t make it any easier for Bucky to watch Tony flirting his way across the dance floor. Word Count: 1880

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Title: Club Can’t Even Handle Me - Chapter 2 Collaborator: 27dragons, tisfan Link: AO3 Squares Filled: 27dragons - K5: Kink - Rushed Sex tisfan - B3: Kink - Harder Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: undercover, gay bar, dancing, flirting, sex, rushed sex, anal sex, semi-public sex, getting together Summary: The Avengers have gone undercover to find a target who’s been frequenting clubs and bars. It’s probably just a coincidence that Bucky and Tony have been assigned to cover this bar, but that doesn’t make it any easier for Bucky to watch Tony flirting his way across the dance floor. Word Count: 3975

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Title: Somebody's been sleeping in MY bed Collaborator: LBibliophile Link: AO3 Squares Filled: B1 - Bed sharing [ficlet - 259 words] Y5 - Bodysharing [image edit] Ship: Bucky & Sam Rating: Gen Major Tags: bodyswap Summary: First he notices that the temperature is wrong. Then he notices that the bed is wrong. Then, he notices that the problem is actually something rather more fundamental. Word Count: 256

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Title: For All the Days I Shall Live Collaborator: tisfan Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C2 - Writing Style: Dialogue Only Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: none Summary: Tony is tired of waiting. Bucky doesn’t have any objections. The rest of the Avengers… might. Word Count: 431

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Title: A Chance Encounter Collaborator: pherryt Link: AO3 Square Filled: B5 - Tell Me Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Gen Major Tags: Post Winter Soldier, Canon Divergent Summary: Clint's on a vacation against his will. Alone. What could go wrong? Word Count: 7259

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Title: It's That Easy Collaborator: sarahbenial Link: AO3 Square Filled: B2 - Flowers Ship: Bucky/Darcy Rating: Mature Major Tags: Sexual content, Canon-typical violence, dissociation, suicidal thoughts Summary: Bucky's been seeing Darcy, secretly, for seven months. Unbeknownst to him, she's been holding onto a secret of her own. Traumatic events lead to the truth being revealed sooner than she'd intended. Word Count: 1721

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Title: BBB Discord Party Round Robin Collaborators: Rebelmeg, Fightingforcreativity, Ladydarkphoenix, Psychiccatpanda, Dreaminglypeach, Ibelieveinturtles, Liquidlightz, Menatiera Link: AO3 Squares Filled: Rebelmeg: Y2 - tech support LiquidLightz (LLightz): B3 - spa day Menatiera: U4 - hot water Dreaminglypeach: B1 - sharing body heat Ladydarkphoenix: U5 - “Don’t touch him!” Fightingforcreativity: B4 - Collateral Damage Ibelieveinturtles: K2 - Whiplash Ship: Stucky, hinted Stony or Stuckony, Pepperony, pre-FrostIron /FrostPepperony Rating: Teen Major Tags: round robin fic, dragon Steve, animal transformation, Loki shenanigans, cats, multiple ships, hijinks and shenanigans Summary: To say that Bucky had been surprised when a FREAKING DRAGON showed up at the summer BBQ at his beach house would be an understatement. How should the ex assassin have anticipated a dragon, who seemed to have followed his cat to the BBQ? It didn’t seem to be dangerous as of yet seeing as the two were happily sharing potato salad. When Tony showed up late, he nudged Bucky, “Hey Buckaroo - I brought - WHOA! I didn’t know you had a… cat.” Sure, it’s the cat that surprises you, Bucky thought, but Tony was still talking a mile a minute around the cookie in his mouth, “So, anyway, I brought that- fuck, is he your window cleaner, he’s gorgeous!” “Window cleaning is just one of the many services I offer,” the dragon said swinging it’s head around to stare unblinking at Tony. Bucky jolts back and stares at the dragon as he recognises the sound of that voice, then quickly pulls his phone out to text Steve… “where exactly are you right now?” Steve doesn’t answer his phone, obviously, but a telltale notification sound pings from somewhere inside the dragon’s belly, audible through the slightly open mouth of the creature, and Bucky has to rub the base of his nose, muttering, “of fucking course you do this reveal to me after we’ve been sharing a bed for weeks.” Word Count: 2330

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Title: Soft Collaborator: alwaysabrighterdarkness Link: AO3 Square Filled: U2 - Touch Starvation Ship: Stucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: Winter, Cold Weather, Touch-Starved, Cuddling Summary: It hadn’t been long after he had been recovered from the Artic that Steve had developed a deep, aching craving for things that were soft and warm or, preferably, both. For a man who was born and then built for fighting, to be able to withstand so much of the world’s harshness, maybe that shouldn’t have come as so much of a surprise. Word Count: 3352

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #bbb2020 #bbb weekly roundup #week 17 roundup

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uniteds · 4 years

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and the fact that he was willing to play through the pain for the club, especially cos he probably knows that we’d lose without him. but as a manager, having that mentality within your players is so harmful to them. jose started it, and ole continued it. someone needs to sit all the young players down and tell them that it’s harmful to their careers to play through injury, they shouldn’t feel the need to do it. play for the badge but you don’t have to be in pain for it

I honestly blame the new age marketing of United where they appeal to passion merchants on twitter, and the twitter culture of blaming losses on players not caring enough and attributing the wins to fight and spirit.

Like I have absolutely no problem and even encourage the United DNA aspect of things, but what people don’t get is that the United DNA is when a technically excellent team (like 1999 and 2008) had just the extra something in them to finish ahead of other technically excellent teams.

But Jose came in and pretended the reason we kept losing was because we didn’t have the right attitude like his other teams, ignoring that we were some way behind them technically and he implemented no style on them in two years. He acted like players getting injured was them not wanting to play, and that the players who didn’t want to play through injury somehow didn’t care enough about the club. Ole came in and said we were gonna go back to being positive and players “were going to play for the shirt again” which implies they weren’t before, hence, continuing the stupid cycle where players now feel obligated to play for the shirt or whatever nonsense despite whatever they’re going through, and now with a club legend in charge, the media also started harping on about how xyz players don’t care whenever we lose and blame injured players like Pogba for not being there. the entire situation left a nasty culture at united where players push through pain for no reason.

#answered

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ryncorrect · 5 years

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university!au: day6 jae

following my uni!au with young k (idk how to link my own post asbajdnskmd im Dumb) so here another one with jae lol i think im gonna make one for each one of them buttttttt no promise bc my brain works in a very mysterious way LOL

anyway leggo

warning: this is lame lmaooooo

name: park jaehyung / jae

major: politic science

other activities: guitarist (and sometimes vocalist) of university band, member of music club, founder and leader of LOL SQUAD

everyone knows that tall skinny guitarist of the band i mean he’s hard to ignore tbh

he always wears loose T-shirt, ripped jeans, a cap that he puts backward, and round big specs to campus

professors hate his ripped jeans but can’t really say anything because oh well style doesn’t define someone’s grades and boy, does this kid actually get some braincells in him

well i mean at least he never fails his classes

he has this giant LOLSQUAD badge on his backpack because he’s proud af of his title as the club founder and leader

he actually started that club so he could to brag about his gaming skill to everyone who wanted to listen but he ends up getting his ass handed to him every single time they play together smh

if he’s not in class or hanging out with his game buddies, he can be seen following that Popular Student™ kang younghyun or as jae prefers to call him, “brian” or “brIBRI” because they both joined music club and are in the band

yes yes he’s well known and easy to spot

but…

“jae? park jaehyung?? who???”

everyone refers to him as “that foreigner student”, “the American guy” or “the gamer guy”, or my favorite: “chicken little”

i will never let that joke die im sorry but seriously he looks like chicken when he plays his guitar on the stage don’t @ me

there are only like 5 students in the whole university who know his actual name

anyways in this scenario you’ve always been interested in playing guitar but haven’t gotten a chance to learn and your friend kim wonpil invites you to join music club so you’ll have friends to practice with

“you know our jaehyungie, right? he’s really chill, you’ll get along well with him!!”

deep inside you’re like

who the heck is jaehyung

but wonpil is so excited to have you there so the next week you come to the club meeting

you introduce yourself to everyone and finally you meet him

“ohmygod the chicken little!!”

“whO THE HECK ARE YOU CALLING THAT”

“sorry- i mean the chicken guitarist- wait no-”

he glares at you, you laugh instead

scaring the new member challenge: failed

but yeah you’d seen him performing before and honestly you almost decided to become his fan

a l m o s t

at first he (jokingly) refuses to teach you guitar because you called him chicken little

and since then you keep calling him that just to mess with him

“hi chicken little”

“what’s poppin chicken little”

“why do you look so flustered, chicken little? do i make you nervous??”

he turns red chicken little is now an angry bird “gO AWAY NEWBIE YOU’RE SO ANNOYING”

jae’s a foreigner but he speaks fluent korean

he tells you that even though he was born and grew up in america he always speaks the language with his parents

but of course since he lives abroad there are lots of words or slang he doesn’t know, so you gotta be an ass and slip some difficult words when you speak to him

he gets his revenge by replying to you in english

whenever you two are having an argument (usually over stupid things) everyone in the club suddenly gets headache

wtf they’re not even making any sense

besides music, jae is the most excited when talking about LOL or social topics because well his major

honestly idk much about politic science so cmiimw

one time someone asks for his opinion about social welfare and he ends up starting a sudden debate session with the said person about social welfare programs in south korea and america and the difference between both countries

you mention human rights and he sNAPS

i mean he gives a full 15 mins speech about it

“yknow what im sayin?”

“dude… i honestly don’t get it at all”

because he be speaking in full english like wat

he’s just so passionate about everything it’s almost adorable

a l m o s t

and it’s not only his passion but also his small eyes, his laugh, his voice, or the way he occasionally lifts his head to look at you while playing guitar and you smile and he smiles because you smile first shnshsbshs soft

even the corners of his lips are so cute wow

oh fuck im emo i love him

but you adore him just as a good friend

he’s always been bubbly and friendly with everyone, not just you, so yeah it’s really easy to fall for him but you assure yourself that you’re nOT

are we having “in denial” shit again omg im so uncreative

anyway fast forward it’s ur birthday!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYYY

you decide to throw a small party at your place and invite 5 or 6 of your closest friends but damn on the d-day it rains so hard

if ur bday falls on winter then change it to snowing hard, if it’s spring then maybe there’s strong wind or something, whatever suits you fam lol

so no one comes to your party lol you are Sad

BUT THEN!!!! JAE SHOWS UP!!!!!

PARK JAEHYUNG

OUT OF ALL PEOPLE

no you didn’t invite him because idk

are we really that close??? ehhhh he probably won’t come anyway haha why bother

BUT!!!! HE SHOWS UP!!! IN FRONT OF YOUR DOOR!!!

he’s carrying an umbrella but it didn’t really help apparently because he’s soaking wet

imagine that view i mean nvm

“i happened to be near here and i remember it’s your birthday today so i think i’m gonna drop by to say hi and suddenly it’s raining too hard on the way but anyway happy birthday can you let me in first i’m cold”

ofc you let jae in i mean we can’t let the chicken catch the flu amirite

but you warn him that he’ll have to leave before 11 or your RA will kick you both out the dorm lol

after a towel, two cups of hot tea, and one shared piece of chocolate cake, you told him you were supposed to have a small party tonight but no one could make it because of the rain and he’s like “hOW DARE YOU HAVING A PARTY BUT NOT INVITING ME I THOUGHT WHAT WE HAD WAS SPECIAL” and you’re just like “lol shut up chicken here eat more cake”

anyways you two spend time joking and talking about random stuff and it’s probably not the best birthday ever but at least you don’t have to spend it alone and to be honest you’re happy that he’s here

then jae pulls out his ultimate weapon

i mean his guitar

he was soaking wet but the guitar is clean and dry and all fine like hoW EVEN

“priorities” -park jaehyung

he said he gonna play a song of your choice because he came empty handed and he feels bad about it

you blush and pick whatever song comes to your mind because you can’t really think of any, and he starts strumming his guitar and sings

and while he keeps looking at you, you find yourself too can’t take your eyes off him

the song ends and you’re about to clap your hands when he suddenly starts another one

wait you’ve never heard this song before

it’s a slow song and the lyrics are all like, the sky turns dark on the birthday of the brightest star so that it’ll be the only light in his world, how he feels regretful that he has nothing to give but his small heart, and he hopes that this lovely person will hold his hand as they listen to this song together, that this lovely person will feel warm beside him

guys just imagine the song okay i can’t Romance

it’s dead silent until you whisper, “is that… a song for me?”

jae’s face turns red and he starts panicking™ like “i made up the lyrics just now okay i know it’s fricking sappy and cheesy as hell okay i just uhhh want to cheer you up!!!! because you seem kinda down!!!!! let’s not talk about this again uGh WhatEvER leT Me LIvE!!!!!”

but you chuckle and thank him, it was the best present you can get from anyone

you two stare at each other for a second that feels like years and he finally breaks the silence, “you know,,, maybe i came here on purpose,,, maybe actually i want to see you,,,”

“and why is it?”

“because i think,,, i miss you,,, kinda”

and you don’t say this out loud but maybe you do know that

even if you say you’ll never

in fact you’ve already fallen for him a bit

or perhaps a lot

like a lot

then he leans in to kiss your lips and you kiss back and it’s almost not awkward at all, it just feels right as if you’ve kissed him million times before

a l m o s t

you two still blush real hard after

but yeah that’s how you two start dating

none of you two tell anyone about it but it’s pretty obvious, i mean jae always picks you up at your dorm, he walks with you to your class or vice versa (if your classes don’t overlap tho), you two keep stealing glances at each others, also—

jae with you: “hey,,,, come here sit with me u3u,,,,, did you have lunch??? oh i wrote a song last night check this out,,,, what are you gonna do this saturday? oml you’re so cute”

jae with everyone else: “HAHAHAHA FUCKING FUCK SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING PRICK ALSO BRIAN FUCKING KANG IF YOU STEAL MY FUCKING FRIES AGAIN I WILL LITERALLY SNAP YOUR FUCKING NECK”

welp actually he’s not always sweet with you, sometimes you two still argue about silly things using mixed languages but now everyone in the club knows better to just run away once it begins

because it’ll end up with you two fighting or you two kissing

yes im nasty and a disappointment bye

btw wonpil is excited af it’s almost like he’s dating you both

“it’s really nice seeing you two finally together!!!!!!! especially because jaehyung really couldn’t shut up about you ever since the first day you joined our music club”

“wait wha-”

“YOU SNAKE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET FUCK OFF”

I’m so in love with park jaehyung y'all hsnshsbsh aNYWAYS!!! 100 blocks limit has lifted from tumblr app AYEEEEE

#day6 #jae #park jaehyung #day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 fanfic #day6 reactions #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #this is embarassing smh #bye

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teshknowledgenotes · 3 years

Text

JAYZ DECODED NOTES

WHY?

Jay-Z is someone I look up to as a rapper and businessman, I wanted to read this book to gain some insight on his thought process. I found it really cool how he made a deal with LVMH, Louis Vuitton Moet Hennesey.

There were some real talents in Marcy. DJs started setting up sound systems in the project courtyards and me and Jaz and other MCs from around the way would battle one another for hours. It wasn't like that first cipher I saw: the crowds were more serious now and the beat was kept by eight-foot-tall speakers with subwoofers that would rattle the windows of the apartments around us. I was good at battling and I practiced it like a sport. I'd spend free time reading the dictionary, building my vocabulary for battles. I could be ruthless, calm as fuck on the outside, but flooded with adrenaline, because the other rapper was coming for me, too. It wasn't a Marquess of Queensberry situation. I saw people get swung on when the rhymes cut too deep. But mostly, as dangerous as it felt it stayed lyrical. I look back now and it still amazes me how intense those moments were, back when there was nothing at stake but your rep, your desire to be the best poet on the block. I wasn't even in high school yet and I'd discovered by voice. But I still needed a story to tell.

Just like beats and flows work together, rapping and hustling for me at least live through each other. Those early raps were beautiful in their way and a whole generation of us felt represented for the first time when we heard them. But there's a reason the culture evolved beyond that playful, partying lyrical style, and even personally knew the cats who were on the records, the content didn't always reflect the lives we were leading. There was a distance between what was becoming rap's signature style the relentlessness the swagger the complex wordplay and the substance of the songs. The culture had to go somewhere else to grow. It had to come home

. No one hired a skywriter and announced crack's arrival. But when it landed in your hood, it was a total takeover. Sudden and complete. Like losing your man to gunshots. Or your father walking out the door for good. It was an irreversible new reality. What had been was gone, and in its place was a new way of life that was suddenly everywhere and seemed like it had been there forever. Cocaine wasn't new and neither was selling it. There had always been older dudes who grew their pinkie fingernails out to sniff coke. There were always down-low dealers who partied with their customers as they supplied them. Melle Mel had a song called "White Lines (Don't Do It)" and of course Kurtis Blow called himself "Blow". but for the most part doing coke was something that happened at private parties, something you might've of heard about but had never really seen. Crackheads were different. They'd smoke in hallways, on playgrounds, on subway station staircases. They got no respect. They were former neighbors, "aunts" and "uncles" but once they start smoking, they were simply crackheads, the lowest on the food chain in the jungle, worse than prostitutes and almost as bad as snitches.

Most of these fiends were my parents' age or a little younger. They had no secrets. Skeletal and ashy, they were as jittery as rookie beat cops and their eyes were always spinning with schemes to get money for the next hit. Kids my age were serving them. And these new little kamikazes, who simply called themselves hustlers (like generations before us did), were everywhere stacking their ones. Fuck waiting for the city to pass out summer jobs. I wasn't even a teenager yet and suddenly everyone I knew had pocket money. And better. When Biggie rhymed about how things done changed he could've meant from one summer to the next. It wasn't a generational shift but a generational split. Look at our parents, they even fukn scared of us. With that line, Big captured the whole transformation in a few words, Authority was turned upside down. Guys my age fed up with watching their moms struggle on a single income, were paying utility bills with money from hustling. So how could those same mothers sit them down about a truant report? Outside in Marcy's courtyard and across the country, teenagers wore automatic weapons like they were sneakers. Broad-daylight shootouts had our grandmothers afraid to leave the house, and had neighbors who'd known us since we were toddlers forming Nieghborhood Watches against us. There was a seperation of style, too. Hip-hop was already moving fashion out of the disco clubs and popularizing rugged streetwear, but we'd take it even futher: baggy jeans and puffy coats to stash work and weapons, construction boots to survive cold winter nights working on the streets. As an MC I still loved rhyming for the sake of rhyming purely for the aesthetics of the rhyme itself -- the challenge of moving around couplets and triplets, stacking double entendres, speed rapping. If it hadn't been for hustling I could've been working on being the best MC, technically to ever touch a mic. Btu when I git the streets for real, it altered my ambition. I finally had a story to tell. And I felt obligated, above all, to be honest about that experience. That ambition defined my work from my first album on. Hip-hop had described poverty in the ghetto and painted pictures of violence and thug life, but I was interested in something a little different: the interior space of a young kid's head, his psychology. Thirteen year old kids don't wake up one day and say "Okay I just wanna sell drugs on my mother's stoop, hustle on my block till I'm so hot people want to come look for me and start shooing out my mom's living room windows" Trust me no one wants to wake up in the morning and wants to do that. To tell the story of the kid with the gun without telling the story of why he has it is to tell a kind of lie. To tell the story of the pain without telling the story of the rewards the money, the girls, the excitement is a different kind of evasion. To talk about killing people dead without talking about waking up in the middle of the night from a dream about the friend you watched die, or not getting to sleep in the first place because you're so paranoid from the work you're doing, is a lie so deep it's criminal. I wanted to tell stories and boast, to entertain and to dazzle with creative rhymes, but everything I said had to be rotted in the truth of that experience. I owed it to all the hustlers I met or grew up with who didn't have a voice to tell their own stories and to myself.

This is why the hustler's story through hip-hop has connected with a global audience. The deeper we get into those sidewalk cracks and into the mind of the young hustler trying to find his foturne there, the closer we get to the ultimate human story the story of struggle with is what defines us all. One of Big's genius lines wasn't even a rhyme it was in the ad lib to "Juicy" his first big hit:

Yeah, this album is dedicated to all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin, to all the people that lived above the buildings that I was hustlin in front of that called the police on me when I was just tryin to make some money to feed my daughters and all the niggas in the struggle

I loved that he describe what a lot of hustlers were going through in the streets dissed and feared by teachers and parents and neighbors and cops, broke, working a corner to try to get some bread for basic shit as more than some glamorous alternative to having a real job. Our struggle wasn't organized or even coherent. There were no leaders of this "movement". There wasn't even a list of demands. Our struggle was truly a something out of nothing do or die situation. The fucked up thing was that it led some of us to sell drugs on our own blocks and get caught up in the material spoils of that life. It was definitely different, less easily defined, less pure and harer to celebrate that a simple call for revolution. But in their way, Biggie's words made an even more desperate case for some kind of change. Che was coming from the perspective "We deserve these rights, we are ready to lead" We were coming from the perspective, "We need some kind of opportunity, we are ready to die" The connections between the two kinds of struggles weren't necessarily clear to me yet, but they were on my mind. Being misunderstood is almost a badge of honor in rap. Growing up as a black kid from the projects, you can spend your whole life being misunderstood, followed around department stores, looked at funny, accused of crimes you didn't commit, accused of motivations you don't have, dehumanized until you realized one day it's not aobut you. It's about perceptions people had long before you even walked onto the scene. The joke's on them because th're really just fighting phantoms of their own creation.

From the first time I rapped the line you like Dom, maybe this Cristal will change your life on my first album, hip hop has raised the profile of Cristal. No one denies that. But we were unpaid endorsers of the brand which we thought was okay, because it was a two-way street. We used their brand as a signifier of luxury and they got free advertising and credibility every time we mentioned it. But they didn't see it that way.

A journalist at The Economict asked Frederic Rouzaud the managing director of the company that makes Cristal: "Do you think your brand i hurt by its association with the "bling lifestyle?" This was Rouzaud's reply: "That's a good question but what can we do? We can't forbid people from buying it" He also said that he looked on the association between Cristal and hip-hop with "curiosity and serenity" The economist printed the quote under the heading Unwelcome Attention.

That was like a slap in the face. You can argue all you want about Rouzaud's statements and trry to justify them or whatever, but the tone is clear. When asked about an influential segment of his market, his response was essentially well we can't stop them from drinking it. That was it for me. I released a statement saying that I would never drink Cristal or promote it in any way or serve it at my clubs ever again. I felt like this was the bullshit I'd been dealing with forever, this kind of offhanded, patronizing disrespect for the culture of hip-hop.

When people all over started drinking Cristal at clubs when Cristal became a household name among young consumers it wasn't because of anything Cristal had done. It was because of what we'd done. If Cristal had understood this dynamic they never would've been so dismissive. The truth is we didn't need them to tolerate us with "curiosity and serenity". In fact we didn't need them at all.

There's a knee-jerk fear in America that someone especially someone young and black is coming to take your shit fuck up your brand destroy the quality of your life, tarnish the things you love. But in hip hop despite all the brand shout-outs the truth is, we don't want your shit. We came out of the generation of black people who fainlly got the point: No one's going to help us. So we went for self, for family, for block, for crew which sounds selfish, it's one of the criticisms hustlers and rappers both get, that we're hypercapitalists, concerned only with the bottom line and enriching ourselves. But it's just a rational response to the reality we faced. No one was going to help us. Not even our fathers stuck around. People who looked just like us were gunning for us. Weakness and dependence made you a mark, like a dope fiend. Success would only mean self-sufficiency, being a boss not a dependent. The competition wasn't about greed or not just about greed. It was about survival.

Back in the eighties and early nineties cities in this country were literally backgrounds. Kids were as well armed as paramilitary outfit in a small country. Teenagers had Uzis, German Glocks, and assault rifles and we had the accessories too like scopes and silencers. Guns were easier to get in the hood than public assistance. There were times when the voilence just seemed like background music like we'd all gone numb.

The deeper causes of the crack explision were in policies concoted by a government that was hostile to us, almost genocidally hostile when you think about how they aided or tolerated the unleashing of guns and drugs on poor communities, while at the same time cutting back on schools, housing, and assistance programs. And to top it all off they threw in the so called war on drugs, which was really a war on us. There were racist new laws put on the books, like the drug laws that penalized the possesion of crack cocaine with more severe sentences than the possession of powder. Three strike laws could put young guys in jail for twenty five years for non-violent crimes. The diseas of addiction was treated as a crime. The rate of incarceration went through the roof. Police abuses and corruption were rampant. Across the country, cops were invovled in the drug trade playing both sides. Young black men in New York in the eighties and nineties were gunned down by cops for the lightest suspected offenses, or died in custody under suspicious circumstances. And meanwhile we were killing ourselves by the thousands.

Almost twenty years after the fact, there are studies that say between 1989 and 1994 more black men were murdered in the streets of America than died in the entire Vietnam War. America did not want to talk about the human damage or the deeper causes of the carnage. But then here came rap, like the American nightmare come to life. The disturbing shit you thought you locked away for good, buried at the bottom of the ocean, suddenly materialized in your kid's bedroom, laughing it off, cursing loud, and grabbing its nuts, refusing to be ignored anymore. I'm America's worst nightmare, I'm young black and holding my nuts like shh-yeah. Hardcore rap wasn't political in an explicit way, bt its volume and urgency kept a story alive that a lot of people would have preferred to disappear. Our story. It scared a lot of people.

When the politicians can't censor you and the industry can't marginalize you call the cops. The statistics on the incarceration of black men, particulary of men of my generation are probably the most objective indication that young black men are seen in this country as a "problem" that can be made to literally disappear. No one in the entire world not in Russia or China or Iran is locked up like black men are locked up in this country.

I had to deal with the cops when I was hustling and that made sense. I had to ddeal with the cops before that too, because even before I started running the streets, I was on their radar just because of who I was. But when I was done with the streets and done with my one major brush with law enforcement after I left the streets, I still wasn't done with five-oh.

I got followed by hip hop cops for seven years but I sill have to ask myself why. Rappers as a class are not engaged in anything criminal. They're musicians. Some rappers and friends of rappers commit crimes. Some bus drivers commit crimes. Some accountants commit crimes. But there aren't task forces devoted to bus drivers or accountants. Bus drivers don't have to work under the preemptive suspicion of law enforcement. The difference is obvious, of course: Rappers are young black men telling stories that the police, among others don't want to hear. Rappers tend to come from places where police are accustomed to treating everybody like a suspect. The general style of rappers is offensive to a lot of people. But being offensive is not a crime, at least not one that's on the books. The fact that law enforcement treats rap like organized crime tells you a lot about just how deeply rap offends some people they'd love for rap itself to be a crime, but until they get that law passed, they come after us however they can. I was never on that nationalistist tip as an MC, but MCs I looked up to, like Rakim, Kane, and Cube, whatever their politics were unambiguously black, with no concession to any other standard of appearance. They didn't hate themselves. They knew how to be strong and stylish but stay black in a way that wasn't self-conscious or contrived. Just by being true to who they were, they obliterated the ideal of the light skinned singer with the S-curl which for a lot of kids of my generation took the edge off the kind of color consciousness that's always lurking for black people in America. Even when hip-hop aired some of the ongoing colorism among black people like Biggie rapping that he was black and ugly as ever the point is that we were airing it out, not weeping it under the rug and letting it drive us crazy trying to pretend it idn't exist. Just one more way that hip-hop kept us sane.

For my pops it was just as important to take in places as people. He wanted me to know my own neighborhood inside out. When we'd go to visit my aunt and uncle and counsins my father would give me the responsibility of leading, even though I was the youngest. When I was walking with him, he always walked real fast (he said that way if someone's following you, they'll lose you) and he expected me to not only keep up with him but to remember the details of the things I was passing. I had to know which bodega sold luandry detergent and who only stocked candy and chips, which bodega was owned by Puerto Ricans and which one was run by Arabs, who taped pictuers of themselves holding Aks to the Plexiglas where they kept the loose candy.

He was teaching me to be confident and aware of my surroundings. There's no better survival skill you could teach a boy in the ghetto and he did it demonstratively, not by sitting me down and saying "Yo always look around at where you are", but by showing me. Without necessarily meaning to, he taught me how to be an artist.

You could name practically any problem in the hood and there'd be a rap song for you. The hip hop generation never gets credit for it, but those songs changed things in the hood. They were political comentary but they weren't based on theory or books. They were based on reality on close observation of the world we grew up in. The songs weren't moralistic but they created a stigma around certain kinds of behaviours just by describing them truthfully and with clarity. One of the thing we corrected was the absent-father karma our fathers' generation's created. We made it some real bitch shit to bounce on your kids. Big mixing rage with double entendre (pop duke left ma uke, the faggot took the back way), we as a generation made it shameful to not be there for your kids. The burden of poverty isn't just that you don't always have the things you need, it's the feeling of being embarrassed every day of your life, and you'd do anything to lift that burden. As kids we didn't complain about being poor, we talked about how rich we were going to be and made moves to get the lifestyle we aspired to by any means we could. And as soon as we had a little money we were eager to show it.

I watched the coverage of Hurricane Katrina but it was painful. Helicopters swooping over rooftops with people begging to be rescued the helicopters would leave with a dramatic photo, but didn't bother to pick up the person on the roof. George Bush doing his flyby and declaring that the head of FEMA was doing a heckuva job. The news media would show a man running down the street, arms piled high with diapers or bottles of water, and call him a looter with no context for why he was doing what he was doing. I'm sure there were a few idiots stealing plasma Tvs, but even that has a context anger, trauma. It wasn't like they were stealing TVs so they could go home and watch the game. I mean, where were they going to plug them shits in? As the days dragged on and images got worse and worse old ladies in wheelchairs dying in fron of the Superdome I kept thinking to myself. This can't be happening in a wealthy country. Why isn't anyone doing anything?

To some degree charity is a racket in a capitalist system, a way of making our obligations to one another optional, and of keeping poor people feeling a sense of indebtedness to the rich, even if the rich spend every other day exploiting those same people. The highest level of giving is giving in a way that makes the receive self-sufficient.

Of course I do sometimes like to see where the money I give goes. When I went to Angola for the water project I was working on and got to see the new water pump and how it changed the lives of the people in that village, I wasn't happy because I felt like I'd done something so great. I was happy ot know that whatever money I'd given was actually being put to work and not just paying a seven figure salary for the head of the Red Cross.

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kastle09 · 4 years

Text

Why don't we love esport orgs?

I am a huge football fan (that's soccer football, not any other kind of football) and just recently I saw my childhood team, LiverpoolFC, win the Premier league title, our first division title in 30 years and first since the Premier leagues inception.

Like all the other fans, I felt the same mixture of emotions: relief, tears of joy, uncontained excitement, and great love and admiration for the players, the manager, and the club.

Thinking on it since, I've began to wonder why I don't feel that same love for esports organisations. I in no way feel the same kind of romanticism surrounding them. Why is that?

Players being bigger then the Team

While there are definitively Star players, important players that are match winners that have lead to Liverpool's success this season, no player no matter how good they are are bigger then the club. Stars will walk in and out of your doors and you will love them while they are here, and either you will cuss them when they jump ship or clap them off when they retire.

For another example think about when Lebron James made the move to Miami Heat. For Cleveland fans they were absolutely distraught at the time. But that doesn't mean you stop supporting your team. It just means you hold bitterness and resentment to the people that leave. The team always comes first.

In contrast to esports though, people tend to jump around teams on a constant basis, there isn't really the same semblance of loyalty, and it doesn't really seem fans care all too much either. As a fan of fighting games and Starcraft, both 1v1 competitive games, its almost expected that your hero is the player that plays your character/race and you are going to follow them regardless of where they go.

But even in team esports, it still hasn't held up. As an Australian watching the core line up of AZR, jks, jkaem, Gratisfaction and Liazz move from Renegades to 100 Thieves, I didn't really give a second thought about ignoring RNG and being a 100T fan. I just wanted to watch my team, and my team was the roster it wasn't the organisation.

So is that the key? Do teams need to form a bond by representing a region and that's how they can keep fans.

International fans and Club Identity

If you look at the past ventures in esports when we began doing long seasonal competitions from the ground up, Not only did they choose to go the franchise model, they also tried to tie it back to a City. The Championship Gaming Series in 06-08 took this approach as well as the Australian Gfinity (both now defunct I might add).

For a recent example take Blizzards attempt at forming a privatised league with the OWL with again having teams be City based: Seoul Dynasty, London Spitfire, Houston Outlaws.

Now this is actually a proven model for success if you look all over in real sports from Major League Soccer and A-League for soccer, Indian Premier League and Big Bash League for cricket etc. So it makes a lot of sense to try and copy.

One benefit is if you have less interest or investment,as a first time viewer when you tune in you automatically have a team you can identify with and to cheer for purely because you live in that part of the country.

The problem is esports is quite an international reach, A city itself, isn't really enough to sustain a team, it has to be representative something larger. Its probably why what more often happens is we are attracted to a philosophy and a style, and that's what makes us fall in love. Because of a particular way this team plays and more importantly what it represents to us.

I am obviously on the other side of the world to Liverpool, and if I think about my relationship with Liverpool. I haven't yet visited the city or to Anfield (Its on my bucket list to watch a game from the Kop end) but I identify with that club more then any other because of what they represent to me. Liverpool was a working class region of England during the industrial boom and its reflected in scousers as people.

I was growing up in the early 2000s among Man Utd fans and being ridiculed and jealous of how easy success seem to come to them, and how hard we had to work. But with that also came the beautiful moments of triumph, like Istanbul. There are picture perfect moments that represent what it is to be a fan of that club, there are Players that embody everything about what that badge on the front represents.

I think esports can deliver that feeling but I think there is a big reason why they are currently failing at it.

Neglecting history

Even though I didnt grow up in the years when Liverpool were dominant and successful, the club does its part to make sure for any new fans, you will learn and be proud of that history.

Club Icons like Ian Rush, Kenny Dalglish and Steven Gerrard are still attached to the club often in ambassadorial roles. Having the past generation let you know what the values of the club are, what's expected of you and reminding the current players exactly what being a part of the club represents.

But we don't do that in esports.

This is actually something Duncan “Thorin” Shields has talked about in a video before and I'll echo some of the same sentiments here. But esport teams, even the longest running and financially successful ones seem to never acknowledge the past very often.

A League of Legends example I think about is Hai Du Lam. I don't follow Lol very closely but I know Hai and I know Cloud9. Hai is what would be considered a Cloud9 Legend but because of the nature of it, Cloud9 seem disinterested in doing anything to celebrate something like that and especially with Hai forming his own team it doesn't feel like that relationship would be allowed to happen.

Keeping on Cloud9 for another moment because their CSGO team seem to illustrate this lack of understanding. The Cloud9 I remember, the one I feared was the NA Galáctico squads.

A team of absolute star players, a team that would constantly bash heads with Team Liquid and would stand head and shoulders above the rest of the continent.

This is the only North American team that has won a CSGO major. That team of Skadoodle, Stewie2k, autimatic, RUSH and tarik. Cloud9 have set a precedent with everything we have been talking about.

As of the writing of this blog, Cloud9s current squad (JT, motm, oSee, floppy and Sonic) is a poor reflection of that history. This is nothing against these players they are all capable players but if this team was named anything else, they would not even be giveing a second look at them. Would those fans who bought jerseys two years ago be proud to stand behind that team? No not a chance.

When you play for Cloud9 the expectation is be “Best in America” and at the moment they are 3-4 placings at best, behind where they should be.

Is it even a problem?

For a lot of people that are into esports there is always a temptation to compare ourselves to the established mainstream sports that exists.

Sometimes we have waved that flag in their face to go “pfft, who cares what you think, we do it better then you” while at the same time behind close doors try to emulate them more and more.

Maybe the real motivation behind this whole post was just an excuse to talk about how much I love Liverpool and how much I want to rub it in every Mancs face (especially you Tyson!) but I do wonder at the day where I would feel the same amount of emotion I did last Thursday when I woke up and actually cried because something amazing had happen. Will I ever be that invested about an esports team? I'm not sure yet.

- Krisna “kastle09″ Siv

#esports #opinion

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travelonlinetips-blog · 5 years

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New Post has been published on https://travelonlinetips.com/8-of-the-best-family-restaurants-and-cafes-in-cairns-and-port-douglas-2/

8 of the best family restaurants and cafes in Cairns and Port Douglas

The highlight reel from your family trip to the tropical end of Queensland may resemble a Disney box-office hit as you find Nemo on the Great Barrier Reef and swing through ancient rainforests like mini-Tarzans.

But you’ll need a separate foodie wish list (or your own genie in a lamp) to keep the family fuelled in between all the fun – and this list of family-friendly restaurants and cafes in Cairns and Port Douglas will be your best bet.

Muddy’s Cafe, Cairns

In between all the splashing at Cairns’ free lagoon, grab your famished mermaids and mermen and dry off at Muddy’s Cafe (right next door to the baby water play area and fenced playground).

You won’t need to whip out King Triton’s staff to encourage the kids to finish their meals with choices like crispy chicken slider, cheeseburger slider, and dagwood dog and chips. Keep up the tropical vibes with a strawberry, watermelon, rockmelon and pineapple juice or a mango, berry, sorbet and pineapple juice smoothie.

Open: 7 days from 7am till 8pm. Where: 174 Esplanade, Cairns. Hot tip: While you’re at it, make a splash at these other swimming spots.

Wharf One, Cairns

You’ll get a lot more than the bare necessities for you and your jungle cubs at Wharf One.

Mornings are best started with Wharf One’s dirty monkey: a banana smoothie with a sneaky shot of coffee. The little people’s brekkie menu offers up boiled eggs and soldiers, poached eggs and baked beans on toast, organic banana and Nutella toastie or French toast with banana and natural honey.

Before heading back to the jungle, try a fancy babyccino with chocolate powder, sprinkles, marshmallow and a cookie.

Open: 7 days from 7am till 5pm. Where: Wharf Street, Cairns. Hot tip: Once you’ve had your fill, head to the Fig Tree playground less than a one-minute walk away.

Prawn Star, Cairns

Unlike the Lost Boys, there’s no need to imagine your food when you board the Prawn Star! Take in the salty air as you chow down on the freshest prawns, mud crabs, cooked bugs, oysters and sashimi in the comfort of a floating restaurant at the Cairns Marina.

If your Lost Boys (and girls) are still developing their sea legs, avoid the plank and make your order a takeaway. You’ll find loads of tables and grassed areas nearby to set up a picnic (and possibly a food fight).

Open: 7 days from 11am till 9pm. Where: Marlin Marina, E Finger, Berth 31, Pier Point Road, Cairns. Hot tip: Mums and dads can order a bargain $5 beer or wine to wash the seafood down.

Ellis Bar and Grill, Ellis Beach

The menu items at Ellis Beach Bar and Grill don’t need an ‘EAT ME’ stamp on them. Big Alices can start the day with the brekkie bowl with cauliflower rice, BBQ mushroom, kale, kimchi, poached egg, chilli jam and guacamole; while little Alices can order mini pancakes or ham and cheese toastie.

Lunch and dinner highlights include a crab and calamari burger or smoked BBQ beef brisket. Kids will be left with a cheeky Cheshire cat-sized grin after gulping down calamari rings, battered fish, chicken nuggets or cheeseburger with salad and chips on the side.

Even if you’re late for a very important date, make sure you leave enough time to wander through the palm trees along Ellis Beach. Alice would recommend it.

Open: 7 days from 8am till 8pm. Where: Lot 13 Captain Cook Highway, Ellis Beach. Hot tip: They flip free pancakes for kids each Saturday from 8am till 11:30am.

Paradise Palms, Kewarra Beach

Even the grumpy old Mr Fredrickson from Up would be happy (okay, maybe not happy, but he might avoid his usual frown) if his balloon travelling house made it to Paradise Palms rather than Paradise Falls.

Either go for crispy pizzas all ’round – they come in kids’ size too – or order classics like burgers, seafood basket, chicken parmigiana or pepper steak; then pavlova with passionfruit if you want your dessert to be inspired by your surroundings.

Eager Wilderness Explorers can wander around the play village complete with super-slippery slide and climbing frame, play on the mini soccer field, or discuss recent badge wins in the Queenslander-style cubby. There’s even a fenced mini-adventure playground for under fives right near the restaurant terrace.

Open: Monday to Thursday 7am till 5pm, Friday to Sunday 7am till 9pm. Where: Paradise Palms Drive, Kewarra Beach. Hot tip: They also offer gluten-free bases for their pizzas if you need to cater to sensitive tums.

The Beach Shack, Kewarra Beach

The heart of Te Fiti might be in Kewarra Beach, so there shouldn’t be any need to leave this island (we mean, beach) for a long time, especially when the crew at The Beach Shack stock their menus with delights for the whole family.

Wednesday’s menu is rammed with tapas and slurpy oysters, so get ready to say, “I’m going to love you in my belly!”

And just like Maui, the shapeshifting demigod, your little voyagers can get up to mischief in the sand while you sip cocktails and take in the beach vibes.

Open: Wednesday 5pm till 8:30pm, Friday 5pm till 9:30pm and Sunday 3pm till 8:30pm. Where: 80 Kewarra Street, Kewarra Beach Resort and Spa, Kewarra Beach. Hot tip: The Beach Shack is open from May to December. Like the rest of us, they don’t like their food soggy, so the Beach Shack is closed during the wet season from January until April.

2Fish, Port Douglas

Forget a spoonful of sugar and grab a bucket of tasty prawns at 2Fish, the practically perfect seafood restaurant. Their menu is spot on with underwater delights like bug tails, crab dumplings and salmon chowder. Fishy kids’ taste buds will be high fiving over the grilled or battered fish or calamari served with chips and salad.

Before their grub arrives, the kids can test their crafty skills and draw on the paper tablecloth or get amongst the activity bag fun (note: no need to raid your Mary Poppins’ sized bag for dinner distractions this time!).

Open: 7 days, lunch from midday and dinner from 5:30pm. Where: Shop 11, Coconut Grove Complex, 56 Macrossan St, Port Douglas. Hot tip: Mary’s spoonful of sugar serving suggestion may not be enough. Sweet-toothed friends may drool over their dessert menu, too.

Port Douglas Surf Club, Port Douglas

The chefs at the Port Douglas Surf Club may have had a little advice from our French furry friend and extraordinary chef, Remy. They’ve kept some old faithfuls on the menu, but they’ve also mixed it up with coral trout tacos, taro chips and salsa, steamed pork buns and tempura prawn sushi.

Book a table on the big open deck and take in the Four Mile Beach views. Ahhhhh. The kids won’t need any encouragement to finish their meals as there’s an epic enclosed playground right next door to the restaurant.

Open: 7 days from midday till 8:30pm. Where: Corner of Mowbray and the Esplanade, Port Douglas. Hot tip: Walk off your meals along Four Mile Beach and grab some family holiday snaps along the palm tree-lined strip.

Want more ideas for kid-friendly food and babyccino options? Here’s a few to keep up your sleeve:

Waffle On, 64A Shields Street, Cairns | Pretty sure they’ll smell even better than Shrek’s mate Donkey’s waffles.

Gelocchio, 9/93 The Esplanade, Cairns | Just like Mr Geppetto remembers it.

Jaffle Head, 39 Lake Street, Cairns | The waft of melted cheese and precisely cooked toasty goodness would be enough to wake Sleeping Beauty herself.

Rusty’s Market, 57-89 Grafton Street, Cairns | Better known for their fresh fruit and veg and good value market cafe, Aladdin and Abu wouldn’t need to employ their 5-finger discount ways at Rusty’s.

Brewhaha Espresso Bar, 141 Barnard Drive, Mount Sheridan | The perfect spot for some hard-working dwarfs to caffeinate before a long day of work.

Apex Milk Bar, 24 Hoare Street, Manunda | One bite and you’ll be taken back to Radiator Springs where burgers and shakes are served with Flo-level smile and sass.

Mondo’s on the Waterfront, 34 The Esplanade, Cairns | You’ll be able to let it go with Mondo’s good vibes and marina locale.

Palm Cove Surf Club, 135 Williams Esplanade, Palm Cove | Eat your chips before the seagulls from Nemo start swooping and squawking, “Mine! Mine! Mine!”

Before you cut loose in the tropics, ask the locals for their tips. Adventure Mumma is all over the best things to do with kids in Cairns.

And just in case you need more inspiration, here’s a round-up of the 20 best things to do with kids in Tropical North Queensland.

No holding back now. Where’s your go-to family restaurant or cafe in or around Cairns?

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meljaxn · 7 years

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Chloe’s Hair Pt 2

Chloe’s hair Pt 2. I believe that she starts wearing her hair up around Lucifer as a way of signaling him when she is being ‘professional’. Both seasons seem to support this theory.

Her hair was down in ep.1 (pilot) when she and Lucifer meet and part of ep 2 (Lucifer, Say, Good Devil), so we know that she is okay with leaving her hair down at work before Lucifer starts assisting on cases.

But the hair goes up in ep 3 (Would Be Prince of Darkness). In ep 4 (Manly Whatnots), the hair went up and then down according to whether she was undercover as Lucifer’s date at the Player’s Club events. Ep 5 (Sweet Kicks)- it was again down at work when she tells Dan Lucifer is out of her life, but back up the next day when it turns out she is working with Lucifer again. Ep 6 (Favorite Son) it’s up. Ep 7 (Wingman)- up for Palmetto/work but down at auction for Lucifer’s wings—again undercover. Ep 8 (Et To, Doctor?) up for work, but down for Lucifer’s ‘birthday’ party. Ep 9 (A Priest Walks Into a Bar) it is up-- until she visits Lucifer after Father Frank dies. Ep 10 (Pops) again up for work, but down when she shows up drunk to seduce Luci. Ep 11 (St. Lucifer)—down when she wakes up at his place but hair up for work. Down again for charity fundraiser and at home when he visits her unexpectedly later that night. Ep 12 (#Team Lucifer), up for work, down at home—though Lucifer is there with her, and she is okay going off to take a shower so obviously there are no trust issues. Ep. 13 (Take Me Back To Hell) hair up the whole time.

Season 2—Ep1 (Everything’s Coming Up Lucifer) Hair up at work, down at Lux when she is undercover at AA meeting. Ep 2 (Liar, Liar Slutty Dress on Fire) hair up. Ep 3 (Sin Eater) Up at work, hair down talking to Dan about divorce. Ep 4 (Lady Parts) Up at work, but hair comes down at tiki bar. It goes back up after the fight. Ep 5 (Weaponizer—sidebar, Uriel was an utter dick and I think he died because he interfered with God’s plan for Lucifer and tried to kill Chloe, God’s miracle. Not to mention he was going to kill Mum and Maze too) Hair up at work, down for car accident (after work) and down when she read book to Trixie at bedtime. Ep 6 (Monster—hard episode to watch and I often skip it because it hurts to see Lucifer’s self-loathing and knowing he has to forgive himself or go insane) Hair up at work. Down at home decorating for Halloween. Ep 7 (My Little Monkey—BTW, another hard episode to watch because of Lucifer and Chloe both being in turmoil and Maze and Linda in distress after Linda knows the truth) Hair up at work, but down at home when she makes Lucifer a sandwich. Ep 8 (Trip to Stabby Town) Hair up. Ep 9 (Homewrecker) Hair up for work, down when she comes to Lux to tell Lucifer she saved his home. Back up for dinner—that may be her version of dressing up, or maybe feeling that things were maybe getting too personal. Ep 10 (Quid Pro Ho) Up at work, down for her visit to Lux (aborted kiss). Ep 11 (Stewardess Interruptus) Up whole time even for the kiss (which she wasn’t expecting). Ep 12 (Love Handles) down at home, up for work, back down for frat party (undercover) again. Ep 13 (A Good Day to Die) down in hospital. Up for ep 14 (Candy Morningstar) except at mediator’s office where she impersonates Candy (and no makeup, like she doesn’t care about appearance). Up for ep. 15 (Deceptive Little Parasite). Up for ep 16 (God Johnson) then down for faux date with the doctor (again ‘undercover’). Up for ep 17 (Sympathy for the Goddess) except at the tequila party where she is again undercover. Up for 18 (The Good, The Bad, The Crispy)

The change in hair styles from the early episodes might be due to a switch in crews when they moved to Vancouver from L.A., and the make-up department decided on a ‘work’ look for Chloe. So if it was them (and not the writers) then maybe the hair will come back down in Season 3 since they’ve moved production back to L.A..

As a bonus, I tracked which episodes Lucifer show his devil/work face. In Season 1- eps.1 (pilot), 2 (Lucifer, Stay, Good Devil), 4 (Manly Whatnots), 5 (Sweet Kicks), 7 (Wingman), 13 (Take Me Back to Hell). He demonstrated super strength a lot but I can overlook that part. Also, Dan really should be getting clued in that there is something strange with Lucifer too. Like when he disappears out of his office with Amenadiel without using the door.

Season 2—red eyes in Eps 1, 3, 6 (both red eyes and then full devil face at the Linda reveal). Then 10, 11, 12, 13, 16, 17 (most often provoked by interaction with his mother and in 16 with his ‘father’ but full devil for his visit to Hell in ep 13)

Also, after Malcolm and seeing Lucifer bloody and risen from the dead, Trixie has stopped trying to hug Lucifer. In fact, it seems like she really stopped after Maze moved in and the two of them started getting tight. She is still happy to see Luci but it feels like she has suddenly grown up quite a bit. I also wonder if she senses Chloe’s reserve and it has rubbed off.

And poor Dan. Hugged by Lucifer and he ends up with badge and gun ‘borrowed’. Hugged by Amenadiel so he could have the ‘key’ planted on him. Hugged (and more) by Charlotte so she could use him for intel against Chloe in the trial.

Another thing I noticed—Lucifer was comfortable with Delilah (pilot) and Candy (at the end when she is herself). The relationships aren’t presented as necessarily sexual, so I think it was like and maybe trust (certainly with Candy). It struck me because he is so very uncomfortable when others (besides Chloe) hug or touch him outside of a sex.

Has anyone else noticed that Chloe has also had to shoot a LOT of people? Jimmy (pilot), Malcolm (Take Me Back to Hell), and the drummer (Candy Morningstar) she shot to save Lucifer-- at least in part. But she also had to shoot the Spider (Priest Walks Into a Bar) and the Ruiz brother (season 2 finale). The taser in S2 ep1 might also be considered as a shooting.

#chloe decker #lucifer on fox #lucifer morningstar

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noahromeroarchives · 7 years

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But even if we won't admit it to ourselves, We'll walk upon these streets and think of little else. [x]

Noah realized he hadn’t actually had a destination in mind when he and Lia had parted ways. His classes were over, and he was here with his knapsack, still in uniform. The chances of him visiting the common room in the next few hours were extremely slim-- Lia had been headed in that general direction, and he was hardly about to take the chance of appearing in the midst of whatever she was going through. His nerves were too shot to even consider starting on his class work, so he adjusted course from the library, which was across the castle from the Gryffindor Tower and made for the outdoors. Stuffing his robes into the bag, Noah found an empty courtyard and settled onto the stone steps there. He gave himself a moment to listen to the burbling of the fountain as he packed his cigarettes absently against his palm. This wasn’t sitting right with him. He hadn’t expected it to, but today’s wordless farewell had left him with a sense of apprehension he was unfamiliar with. The cigarette hung unlit from his lips for almost a full minute of mute reflection before he could be bothered to light it.

By the time Noah made his way into his dormitory after a few hours in solitude at the library, nearly all of Gryffindor was silent. Whatever was looming at the bottom of his bed gave him a moment’s pause, and he drew close to find a neat stack of sweaters. His sweaters. The quiet seemed to ring in Noah’s ears. Too-quiet. There was no note, no indication that she had even returned the clothing herself, but the finality of it seemed to hit Noah like a bludger to the chest. That was that, accounts were settled, there wasn’t a reason for him to contact her. He placed the sweaters into his trunk, unusually finicky about keeping them as pristine as he’d found them. Figuring it was too late now to put any real thought into it, he tried to get some sleep. Noah stared awake for hours instead, mind unhelpfully flashing through scenario after scenario. Himself apologizing as they stood outside Politics, time turning back in order to do so. Apologizing when he saw her next, or pointedly waiting for her in the common room tomorrow morning so they would have a chance to talk. Even have a blowout fight if they had to, just to clarify precisely what the return of his sweaters meant. He’d known even when he had pretended even to himself that this was just another squabble that would blow over. He knew what it meant when every breath seemed to ache.

Noah would have had to be blind in order to not notice the way his classmates had taken to watching his every move. The abrupt end of Noah and Lia was apparently far more interesting than anything else a fully-restored magical castle and surrounding grounds could possibly offer. There were one or two brave souls who attempted to coerce information out of Noah, though even he couldn’t see why. He had never been a conversationalist, and the fact that he stonewalled each and every question or wayward comment about Lia-- however indirect-- meant that people were quick to keep their inquiries and their opinions to themselves. Even after his own staunch refusal before, Noah found himself disturbing the unspoken seating chart of Politics. Lewis had moved to sit beside him next class, and Noah silently packed up his things and relocated. That sense of guilt last class had become some grim sense of deja vu, and Noah would be damned if he felt it ever again. Lewis seemed to pick up on his intentions, and although she still worked with him in class, didn’t attempt to sit with him again. No one had to ask why Noah felt the need to be left alone. He wasn’t entirely sure that he had an opinion on the matter to voice in the first place, only really identifying a restless sort of curiosity that had him taking note of everyone who was in a room when he entered it. It was partially hopeful, but another part really seemed to want to be miserable. The biggest change he noticed was how much quieter things were. He had time to study and even get in some extra play with the chess club. He tried to pretend it didn’t make him feel lonely. Grace had reached out once, businesslike. The brief conversation left Noah feeling simultaneously better and worse, which he figured sounded about right. His birthday was uneventful, but Noah wouldn’t have had it any other way. Rowan Goode had rather tartly informed him over breakfast one day that Lia was having a party for her birthday, and he could come if he so chose-- Lia certainly didn’t care. Noah had no choice but to accept that as a gracious invitation, but found himself staying in that night. His roommates stumbled home from the party, drunker than skunks. He told himself he’d made a good decision because of how much studying he was able to get done, but the reality that seeing Lia and being drunk seemed like such a lethal combination he was not yet ready to face. He was apparently not yet ready to face her at all, right up until their Defense exam. Halfway through his essay about the Patronus charm, he’d been letting his gaze wander throughout the hall as his mind groped desperately for some word when he settled on Lia. Her shoulders were hunched and she was scribbling furiously away at her own exam. They were seated a few desks apart, with Lia staggered forward. Her hair was up and it caught the sunshine that fell from the high windows. It was an unfortunate time to be reminded that he missed the way she smelled. She was angled just right, so that Noah’s eyes could follow the slope of her nose, the way her lips twisted thoughtfully to the side. The proctor cleared his throat and gave Noah a mistrustful look. Small favor that it wasn’t her who’d seen him just staring like an idiot. Feeling his neck generate enough heat to warm a muggle home all winter, Noah’s chin ducked and he returned to his own essay. He tried very hard not to make any sort of eye contact right up until he arrived at Kings Cross, although being home wasn’t exactly a reprieve.

He had been dreading coming home. Taking a chance on something that had been so uncertain really wasn��t his style and even mentioning a girlfriend to his parents didn’t seem like something Noah would ever do. Now there wasn’t a girlfriend in the picture, Noah still suspected that would be a conversation, too. He shouldn’t have worried. Noah had a new sister to meet, after all. There was a literal precious infant to draw attention from the fact that he was more reserved than usual. He had to suppose Piper was even cute in her own terrifying way. It took Noah nearly a full week to even attempt to hold her. The experience was one he considered on par with defusing a bomb-- you seemed to get used to it.He was convinced he’d given his parents the slip, until, of course, his father cornered him days before Noah was due at his mother’s. “You shouldn’t keep everything all tucked away inside you,” his father advised, guessing rather than being told just what had gone wrong. “Having someone around to open up to can’t be all bad, can it?” Noah, unsurprisingly, didn’t offer any sort of answer to that. By the time he got to his mother’s house, Noah sorely wished for something to do. Half the summer was over, and it really looked like no one was looking to hire seasonal workers mid-season. His was convinced the remainder of the holiday would be spent being largely bored out of his mind, until he was rather forcibly recruited by a cherubic librarian to shelve books at the library. The quiet suited him, and the Dewey Decimal System was straightforward, but didn’t leave him a lot of time to let his mind wander. No Head Boy badge arrived, just his supply list for seventh year, and the fact of it didn’t bother Noah as much as it would have a few months ago. His drive in that line of his life had tapered off significantly. It really wasn’t worth how much he would have had to give in order to show up Cheshire, and even now Noah wasn’t sure they were even still friends.

Noah couldn’t remember a time where he wasn’t excited to go back to school. This year packing his trunk did feel more like a chore than anything else. He told himself there were a multitude of factors involved. He had almost no new materials for his classes. Being halfway through his NEWTs, his classes had been finalized last year and most of the work was just continuing from where they’d stopped. He was already dreading both the courseload and the work that would be waiting for him as a prefect. The student body had quadrupled over the summer, meaning he’d be responsible for that many more patrols. There was nostalgia, too, since it would be his final year. It was hard to get excited about something drawing to an end, wasn’t it? His mother took him to Kings Cross, but only after a breakfast in town in lieu of walking him all the way to the train platform. Neither one of them was big on dramatic goodbyes, so this arrangement suited them both admirably. “Noah! Hi!” His head turned reflexively to the redhead who seemed to appear at his elbow. Dangerously close to it, Noah reflected absently as he thanked himself for not elbowing Lewis full in the face. That’d be a scene he didn’t need, no matter how many passersby were capable of a quick episkey. “Hey, Lewis. What’s up?” Noah asked, taking a step to the side to put the preferred amount of space between himself and the Ravenclaw. He scanned the teeming crowd as she answered, knowing exactly who he was looking for though he was hard-pressed to say why. “...Did you have a nice holiday? I wouldn’t know, since you didn’t call me.” Noah’s brows knit for a moment, focusing on Lewis only to find she had inched a bit closer again. Lia hadn’t been so far off the mark after all. That really sucked. He took another step back, starting the appropriate mental gymnastics to explain why he’d never bothered to call someone he had no interest in. And then his gaze hooked on that familiar face. A deep breath in didn’t do much to remedy the fact that the entire train station felt airless. Noah’s hand lifted to rub absently against his solar plexus. Not a physical ache, he knew, but he could try. Lia drew closer and he felt rather than saw his unwanted companion’s head tilt to assess Lia, and then him, and Lia again. Lewis began to address Lia with the confidence of someone who clearly didn’t care if they lived or died, only to be interrupted mid-greeting. “Piss off.” Noah stared impassively back as Lia strode past. Not surprising in the slightest, but still more subdued than he’d been expecting. He took the opportunity to offer a weak ‘what can you do?’ shrug as a farewell and put some distance between himself and Lewis. He was on the train for want of something to do, managing to direct a few startled looking first years before stowing his belongings in the Prefects’ car. It was fairly deserted-- everyone had people to see before being stowed away for a whole ride’s worth of meetings. Noah didn’t mind the quiet, having discovered he wasn’t in a sociable mood.

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