#they end up in rhode island because it's a long running joke I had with my cousin who no longer speaks to me ajhgaskf

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

Could I ask for some Wingfeather falls road trip headcanons in these trying times?

Oh no Wingfeather Falls, my weakness

Yes absolutely, okay so, the most important thing about this is that they definitely 100% have a VW bus that they’re taking a roadtrip in. It is an old rickety thing and nobody’s sure where it came from or if it will hold together.

The uncles are the “chaperones”. Nia and Aurendelle are having a spa day or something and it’s portrayed in stark opposition to whatever the roadtrip gang are doing (ie. the bus is careening down a mountain hill while Nia and Aurendelle are sitting in a hot spring somewhere).

No one has a valid drivers license. No, not even Stan. Somehow everyone ends up taking a turn driving the bus at some point. Confusingly, the best driver is Leeli.

Their two options for sleeping are either camping out or staying in weird little motels that keep ending up being haunted by supernatural creatures. They keep falling for the motels and while a few of them are inhabited by actual weird creatures (they meet some of the cousins of the gnomes in Gravity Falls when Janner, Kal and Dipper get captured one by one as the gnomes try and find a suitable groom for their queen. Leeli’s crutch is found to be another weakness of gnomes) most of the motels’ “supernatural” creatures are actually the managers dressed up Scooby Doo style trying to attract tourists with the weird stories surrounding their motels (Stan is both impressed and offended someone came up with this idea before him).

Kalmar eats all the snacks the first day and they’re forced to stop at a gas station to buy more and after that they hide them and ration them out- or try to, somehow Kal and Mabel keep finding them.

They Must continue the tradition of ruining every tourist trap they come across. Kalmar and Fiddleford are delighted by this. Janner is deeply confused. Artham, Sara and Leeli get weirdly into it. Ford is also confused. Ford and Janner stand off to the side watching the others destroy tourist traps holding coffee and looking confused.

(Yeah, someone makes the mistake of giving Janner coffee, he ends up kind of addicted to it, “THIS is what grandpa always drinks in the morning?! It’s amazing! I can keep up with Kalmar now!”)

Fiddleford makes the bus rocket powered, which in turn makes it able to fly. Unfortunately, the brakes only work if you’re on the ground. He does also give it wings.

Mabel and Kalmar sharing earbuds and screaming pop songs while everyone throws things at them to try and make them stop.

Oh yeah, the bus only has three CD’s and one is a pop mix from the 2010’s, one is in Spanish, and the final one is a mix of songs from the 70’s-80’s. Mabel somehow manages to get the pop cd in first thing every morning and blasts One Direction’s “That’s what makes you beautiful” to wake everyone up. Stan, Ford, Janner and Sara keep trying to dispose of the CD but it always comes back. They leave it at gas stations, throw it out the window, run it over on “accident”, and mysteriously it’s always back the next day. They think they finally succeed when they don’t hear it for three consecutive days in a row, and then, suddenly, on the final day of their trip, it’s back. (this is based on a real experience I had ajghakljgdfs)

There is a Plot amongst the kids to use this experience to get Janner and Sara to admit their love to each other, go on a date and kiss. They try and keep it a secret but Janner and Sara aren’t dumb and they catch on pretty quick and play along because they’re amused. Dipper’s sole advice to Janner is “Don’t listen to anything grunkle Stan says about dating and girls.”

They keep going through portals. Ford tells them about each world they end up in and the kids keep making friends with aliens. At one point they lose Artham and Fiddleford though a portal and when they come back they’re decked out in steampunk gadgets and refuse to talk about what happened to them (absolutely nothing happened- they found an intergalactic shop selling steampunk stuff and thought it was cool so they got some, but they’re not going to tell the others that).

Stan keeps trying to haggle with every gas station clerk and motel owner they meet. It doesn’t matter if they’re an alien with six eyes and tentacles he’s going to get a better deal than this. Ford doesn’t know how he inherently understands the currency of every world they visit.

There is this one cop that seems to find them and pull them over wherever they go and they have to keep coming up with excuses as to why they were driving too fast/ran a red light/were weaving on the road. The cop pulls Leeli over because she’s driving TOO WELL for this one specific chaos bus and therefore its suspicious. (He lets her go immediately after she says hi to him because she’s polite. Everyone else is annoyed Leeli didn’t have to make up a story.)

One of the times they do camp out they tell scary stories and Sara’s is the best (“and the room was filled with nothing but FORKS.” *shocked gasps*).

The Wingfeathers are also introduced to marshmallow roasting and smores. Dipper, Janner, Sara and Leeli have the patience to slowly toast a marshmallow. Mabel and Kalmar do not and they simply catch theirs on fire and let it burn.

Fiddleford has to teach everyone about hobo pies and how to make them.

The bus inevitably breaks down and strands them. Stan teaches the kids to hitchhike while Fiddleford, Artham and Ford actually try and fix the bus. Stan and the kids get kidnapped. They show back up two hours later with tattered clothes and smoking hair and the bus is fixed and the others are like “??? What happened to you guys?!”  “Don’t ask."

THEY END UP IN PROVIDENCE RHODE ISLAND. For REASONS. This is not where they were planning to go. This is also the only time they end up staying in a hotel. They order pizza and prank call people all night.

They return home the next day via portal.

I filled two pages with these in the doc I was typing them up in so I should probably stop. xD I hope you enjoyed and these!

#the wingfeather saga #gravity falls #wingfeather falls #janner wingfeather #kalmar wingfeather #leeli wingfeather #mabel pines #dipper pines #ford pines #stan pines #artham wingfeather #fiddleford mcgucket #sara cobbler #I got into this ajghalksfjghdsfa #silliness #could probably write another two pages of these if I tried xD #this was fun #thanks for the ask! #they end up in rhode island because it's a long running joke I had with my cousin who no longer speaks to me ajhgaskf #good times

[chenswire]

overdue Episode 11 post

basically the chenswire part of my stupidly long twitter thread covering ep 11 with more delusional thoughts and I ended up TLing their last scene in CN I guess (scroll to bottom) i wish i had the energy to make 1morbillion gifs but i do not so.. Excerpts from my 200 image screenshot folder it is

So the ep starts off with a super pensive Swire which was very cute when will my wife return from the war energy

And then she breaks out into a super un-ladylike run whaddahell!!!! this sequence was sooo well drawn wtf. handsome

(Something here about how people were joking this part is summer chen because they call chummer 水陈 'water chen')

I like how relaxed the atmosphere was like this definitely isn't the first time something like this has happened, well I mean after all they are Professional Co-workers who do not fight 24/7 (they get into an argument immediately after)

When they break eye contact to turn towards Hoshiguma they basically don't meet each other's gazes again as they take turns to glare at each other its insane... Also Swire saying she should take over and Chen needs treatment... Chen you understand what that means right...

Another detail I love is how at the start they already show her battered jacket/clothes for us gamers to point at the screen and then later who those who don't know/didn't notice we have a whole close up of chen reacting to it...man.jpg And swire leaving right away once she knows chen is fine (and one of her good points. lol. lmao) you guys are sure so quick

Link to CN version of the PUUK GAI LUNG in Paci Plaza I love how she's like 'Chen you stay right there' at the end like she's going to idk fly over ASAP to whack her (as opposed to just 'hey, chen!')

Here's a clip of the last scene with CN dub because not only do we get 'ah chen' it just hits so different...

Hi~ Still there, Miss Ah Chen? Ah? What d'you mean by ah, huh? Aren't you a Dai Siu Ze too? Enough of that, don't you have something to tell me? What happened at Paci Plaza… I'll make sure to sort it all out and file for damages later.

Had a feeling they would go with the JP loc's 'aren't you an ojou too' since you know, anime, but keeping the 'ah chen' and that 阿什么阿 response the unparalleled casualness

You… Remember the Cha Chaan Teng at Sheung Wan? Trying to change the subject? The one near the LGD HQ, right? I used to stop by there on my patrols sometimes. Let me treat you to something there next time. Hmm~ If we go there… I want a steak tomato and egg burger! Wait, no! Like hell I'd want you to treat me to a meal!

the longer pause after 'you...' like she was considering something else before she decided to go with her 茶餐厅 MENTION!!!!! gives this a whole different flavour... chen outright offering the meal instead of swire guessing??? THE WARM SMILE CLOSE UP i feel like im intruding on something

Then send your bill to Chief Wei. I'm hanging up. Wait, don't hang up just yet! I heard you ran straight out of Rhodes Island in the end. What are you planning? Weren't you looking for their help? Ugh, stay down! Take a nap over there! You sure sound busy. Guess I should hang up. Tch… I'm not done speaking with you yet. Was leaving the little bunny (and the others) over there weighing on your mind? Well, whatever. (We'll just do this) Just let me help you clean up the mess over here.

It just sounds so much more casual in CN than the JP dub (which is excellent ofc) >let me do it for you instead of 'ill do it' (head in hands)

the opposite lighting and angle and chen looking away vs swire looking straight #KINO

Don't talk like you understand me very well, Miss S. Enough!!! How many times have I told you not to call me that!! Got it, got it.

You don't seem to get it, so I'll be nice today and explain it to you. Life is extremely precious. You're always risking your life chasing what's right in front of you. Stop doing that. Got that? Your advice… I'll take it.

That exasperated 'Enough!!!' i (turns into a plane and flies away) and the last line... it as 'thanks for the advice' which technically isn't wrong but you know the nuance of uh. kind of, almost, somewhat, accepting a... confession... (of her concern ofc) also CN chen lets swire finish speaking instead of interrupting which hehe... like i said..the flavour hits different. also that subtle movement as chen like eases in more and more between those lines aaaghhhhhhhhhh

their earlier argument was so explosive and quick, but now their banter is so tender and slow like bruh. what. even the act of chen putting down her sword to sit down in a comfortable position (loved that she sat like that One leg sitters rise up!!!) was so ??? the normally yolo speedrunner chen being so leisurely like damn. ok. ok. From 'you think you can order me around' to basically agreeing to an order (Londinium cannon vine boom) I thought Chen being this warm was more or less a delusion that I inferred through in game as subtext (since in game her expression then is usually like her default rbf face...) and seeing it here as 'text' in the show is like 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯 holy shit can't believe i got FED after four years incidentally i've been obsessed with a certain CN writer's fics lately because the way they write chen like a sad wet dog while showing warmth is crazyyy maybe i will blog about it next time because i was legit taking notes lmao

#arknights #chenswire #bentotexto #speaking of chen smiling that ep 12 shot huh. huhhhhhhhhhh

[cherienymphe]

I hope you’re prepared for an absolute thesis of a review…

I have never read nearly 10K words faster in my life. I wanna start out by saying that I went into this blind. I didn’t want to know anything, I wanted his identity and looks to be a surprise. That’s how much I trust you. And you delivered, no shocker there! The fic was actually so interesting from beginning to end. I love when stories start almost mundane, so unassuming and it really made me feel like I was actually that girl. I moved to Rhode Island and somehow found trouble immediately, and I don’t mean my car breaking down😭 But I just loved the premise so much. He does her a favor and the reader feels indebted. So she allows him solace, not knowing that he definitely was feeling more than friendly towards her, probably from the start. But I think his desire for her was cemented by her caring for him and letting him escape to her house. Her final nail in the sexy coffin was her cleaning his cuts. Even though she was reluctant, she showed great care towards him and is clearly comfortable around him, despite his occupation.

I always notice and enjoy how much you change the dialogue and sentence structure to match your stories. This one reminds me of your Killmonger fics a little bit because the writing style came off as casual and laidback. But then when you’re writing a period piece, the style matches the time period. I hope this comes off as the compliment that it is. I just mean that you make the reader feel like they’re in each story because the tone and wording always match the setting.

But back to the good stuff. I just knew he was fighting over the reader as soon as he got cagey about the answer. And that’s almost his fault because he shouldn’t have made his claim so obvious hehe. I love it though. She really was the last to know because all the other men around surely did. Especially when his friend hopped out the car like, “this the gf?” I died because she was oblivious but everyone else was in on the gag. If she didn’t have her blockers up to him in that way then it would’ve been clear to her too. No man is buying you a car just to be nice. And he came immediately to her rescue when her car gave out. That man is into her! But she didn’t want to be involved that way so she brushed a lot off. Him laughing at me all the time would’ve pissed me off a bit because what’s so funny? I wanna be in on the joke too! Little did she know, the joke was her not knowing that was her man.

You can tell that she was always feeling him though. She was always going over where he had touched her and thinking way too hard about it. And the way you wrote him was so sexy. He stayed looming over her head and staring her down. Him and Rafe would probably be buds with the way they stalk their prey and hunt them down. And waiting! He waited a freaking year for her to come to her own realizations and then lost his patience. But I love when a man is committed enough to wait, because he knew he had a claim on her, there was no rush. Everything was so hot, especially him breaking her handle off just to get in. That man is all in her life.

Him proving that she’s his was just golden. The way his thrusts were rough but his kisses were soft just made me melt. And his dang laughing again when he was just reminiscing over the reader not knowing her place was funny. He said oh babe, you’re about eleven months behind.

In conclusion, definitely worth the copay and you edging us for so long about this man. So if you all like debauchery and are a little morally grey when it comes to the law, run don’t walk to read this fic!

It's actually so funny bc he for sure showed up to her house that night with the sole desire to see how she could handle that life. He was testing her and she passed the test and her fate was kind of sealed then and yes about the dialogue! I like to transport y'all to the world/setting so I like to make the conversations and language authentic as possible.

"What's so funny" is sending me bc no literally...what's so funny 😭 everyone knew but her and I suspect that even if she'd clocked him earlier and tried to stop it before it started, her fate would've stayed the same. Reader was definitely into him but her whole thing was that she can't get involved with all of that but 🤷🏾‍♀️

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much!

#asks

[shuttershocky]

hihi, if is not much, can you please summarize what happened on Darknights Memories? Or maybe point to a summary of it? Cause i had the worst possible idea to take some time away from ak right around the event and now i go a little crazy with all the random lore i see from your posts that referenciate the event somehow.... also, maaaany thanks for your ak posts, theyre always a delight to read!!

Hi there!

Darknights Memoirs was an extremely lore-heavy event, closer to being Chapter 6.5 than an event really. While there are many, many, many things to cover, I'll try to summarize the most important parts.

this will be a rather long post

W is a young Sarkaz girl who killed the original W, a mercenary in Kazdel. The mercs the first W ran with all had a bounty on their heads, and W intended to collect them. Realizing there was no way she could defeat the original W's comrades (Hoederer and Ines) however, she joined up with them instead as the new W.

It is sacred tradition among Sarkaz that when you pick up a fallen Sarkaz warrior's weapon, you assume their identity, with all of what that entails. W killed the original W and took his weapon, therefore she is W now.

Ines is a psychic, while Hoederer is an extremely capable fighter. Though they and W don't get along too well, they stick together for years.

Some time later, W, Hoederer, and Ines are hired to protect a caravan coming from Rim Billiton, which supposedly unearthed a massive, ancient landship.

The three are attacked and nearly killed by elite Sarkaz soldiers working for the Kazdel leader, Theresis. They are rescued by the landship's owner, who is an extremely powerful Sarkaz Warrior. The Sarkaz Warrior turns out to be Theresa, the deposed King of Kazdel and Theresis' sister.

Theresa welcomes them into the landship, which she calls Rhodes Island. Her organization is called Babel, whose goal is the emancipation of the infected. W becomes fascinated by Theresa the moment she lays eyes on her, and begins following her around to see what the former King of Kazdel is really like.

Theresa is a goofball and can barely fix an automatic door even with Closure helping her. Her two assistants however, are much more serious. Kal'tsit runs Babel's medical mission and W sees her as a bitch. Doctor runs all tactical operations, and W, Ines, and Hoederer are terrified by them.

Ines describes Doctor as some terrifying kind of unknown being, one who cannot see other people as people. The entire Sarkaz Civil War is just some sick game for them, and all people are only chess pieces. At the end of the day, Doctor exists in their mind as the only "real" person, with everyone else just a piece to be packed away once the game's all over. Despite this however, Theresa vouches for them with absolute trust.

W also meets an 11 year old Amiya in raggedy clothes. She works as Kaltsit's assistant, but is otherwise just a little kid allowed to live inside the landship.

Some time later, having successfully escorted Babel through Kazdel, Hoederer says its time for them to leave. They part ways in decent terms, and Hoederer gets the mercs their next job as Theresis' agents.

Close to three years pass, in that time the Rhodes Island landship is attacked, Theresa is killed, the Doctor goes missing, and the Babel operators are scattered to the wind. W is not a part of these events.

The Usurper King of Kazdel dreams of a Kazdel becoming a politically powerful nation, but the only way for a war-torn country of the hated Sarkaz to be able to do that, would be if all its neighbors were brought down to its level. Hearing of an Infected uprising inside Ursus called Reunion, Theresis sends his men to aid them and bolster their numbers, hoping to stir up conflict in other nations.

Hoederer, Ines, and W work for Talulah, with Ines noting that Talulah isn't exactly Talulah. There's a shadow behind her that only Ines can see, and it terrifies her. This foreshadows the Deathless Black Snake of Chapter 8. Theresis also sends Garcin, a Sarkaz warrior who was part of the elites that nearly killed the three mercs years earlier before Theresa scared them off.

Patriot talks with the three Sarkaz, noting that he too mourns Theresa's passing, and wonders how the old country is doing. Decades before, Patriot took his whole clan out of Kazdel because he did not see a future in Kazdel's endless wars. Unfortunately for him, he ended up going to Ursus right when it was on the verge of becoming Terra's single biggest war machine.

Chernobog happens. Babel has reformed as Rhodes Island under Amiya's new leadership, and clashes with Talulah's Reunion among the ruins of the city. Seeing her chance to get revenge on Garcin and make herself Theresis' only link to Reunion, W secretly meets with her former Babel comrade Scout whose team has already been massacred by Reunion, and strikes a deal with him. Scout must go alone and kill Garcin and his entire squad by himself, and in exchange, W makes sure Doctor makes it out of the city alive.

Recognizing it was a suicide mission but also the only way Doctor could make it out of Chernobog when everything went to shit, Scout takes the deal. This is also why we see Scout make a farewell letter to the one Vanguard operator in Operational Intelligence, the same one who spies on Hellagur and Patriot's meeting.

Garcin sees Scout approaching his team and asks for the lone warrior's name to know who could possibly be this stupid. Scout gives it, but not before saying that he's already won.

Scout singlehandedly kills Theresis' entire elite Sarkaz team, including Garcin. A very heavily injured and dying Scout nearly kills Ines as well when she finds him making it out of the ruins, but she's saved by Hoederer who finally kills Scout. Hoederer calls Scout an old friend and tells him to rest easy. Later it is shown in Chapter 8 that W lies and takes the credit for killing Scout, possibly to impress Theresis, as Scout was a living legend in Kazdel and one of the last of its renowned stealth masters (dude was basically a ninja)

As seen in Chapter 1, W upholds her end of the deal and lets Doctor escape. Realizing that some of the Sarkaz warriors have betrayed her, Talulah suspects Ines and has her killed.

Hoederer is shaken and leaves Reunion, returning to Theresis who is now in Victoria. W is now the sole leader of Reunion's Sarkaz warriors, just like she planned.

Hoederer and his unnamed assistant (possibly Ines who faked her death) report to Theresis. Instead of killing him for running away, Theresis is satisfied enough by the trouble that Reunion caused and places Hoederer under house arrest with him inside their little Kazdel embassy in Victoria. We are also introduced to the main manager of Theresis' affairs, the Confessarius. The previous Confessarius (possibly the one who worked with Theresa) is Operator Shining.

Hoederer explains to their assistant that this is basically perfect, because now they can easily spy on Theresis' movements. Hoederer unveils a machine they can use to send messages to any of Kazdel's old communication towers, which W now has total control of.

The end of Darknights Memoirs shows that W has been acting as a triple agent (thus all the Revolver Ocelot jokes). She's double-crossing both Talulah and Theresis, because her heart and loyalty have been with Theresa all this time. Knowing that Theresis almost certainly was involved with his sister's death, W worked to make Theresis rely on her more and more, just so she can be close enough to kick the chair from under him when the moment is right.

We last see W in Chernobog helping a pair of kids survive in the ruins. One of them has picked up a sword from a dead Sarkaz warrior to defend herself with. W tells the young boy what it means to pick up a fallen Sarkaz’s weapon.

This ritual is very important to note, because the leading theory about the sole reason Rhodes Island is being led by a 14 year old girl, is that Amiya was the first one to reach Theresa and pick up her sword. 

#Arknights

[weirdestbooks]

The First Thirteen Part 1 (Oneshot)

The origins of the first 13 states in my books. Also the italicized words are the states that don’t have countryhumans, but exist as voices in America’s head. More will be explained in the hearing the states headcanon.

United States POV

December 7, 1787

"I hope that the states will ratify the Constitution." I said as I marched through the room. I was making my way up to New York to meet with Congress. I had been in Virginia with General Washington, trying to take my mind off of the ratification of the Constitution. Benjamin Franklin, who I had been staying with, smiled.

"Don't worry United, I'm sure they will." He said. I sighed.

'It will get ratified. Just wait.'

"I'm just worried, if they insist on using the Articles of Confederation I'll collapse and die, or British Empire will take me back easily. I know they want their states rights, but if the states have more power than I do as the federal government, then I'm not a country, I'm just an organization of thirteen countries who could very easily die if they refuse to get along. So I've very worried, because an option other than this Constitution will most likely end in my death." I ranted out, wringing my hands in worry. Dr. Franklin smiled.

'The Union won't fail. We'll show British Empire what we can do.'

"Those are reasonable concerns United, but have faith in your people. We wanted to be united and we will be." He responded. I nodded, but I just couldn't shake the worry from my mind.

'The states will unite. Even if they aren't ratifying the Constitution instantly doesn't mean that they aren't discussing ratification.'

'Yes, just relax. Things will work out'

I had to survive. I had to become a strong country so I could prove British Empire wrong. Just because I am a republic doesn't mean I am going to be weak. A republic can be strong and I'll prove myself to them all.

Suddenly I began to feel pain on my face, but they was something very weird about it. The pain was centered on my first stripe and one of my stars, instead of my entire face. I let out a gasp of pain, one hand reaching up to cover the star, were the pain was more focused.

'What's happening?'

'I feel weird.'

' '̷̢̬̟͇̹̫̠̲̩̬̳͛͒̀́̈́̔́͠͠L̸̢̧̛̰̲̟͌͛͛̉̈́̅͑͋ͅơ̸̢̝̘̞̈̀̽͗̽̀̑͘̚o̶̡̢͎͔͙̟͍̙̩̓͒̆͐͜k̶̠͛̒̂̓̐̐̾̐ ̶̨̬̠͖̏̉͐̒͊̆ͅa̶̢͎̮͇̬̰̥͉͙̦̘̪̥̮͗t̶̬̳̥̀̈́̈́͒̈̏̏̀̔́̾̌͊͠ ̴̧̨̛̟̪̤̬̭̤͎̎̈͜ͅĎ̵͙̣̳̭̰̙̲͔̻̝̓̋̈́̈́̄̽̏̀̊̄͘̚̕͝é̵̛͉̺̘͍̤̫͖̣̗͊͆͋̔̀̄̅̀̎̍ͅl̷̨̢̛̹͇̓̽̆̅̍̈́̚̚!̸̧̦̠̩̭̩̤̾͆̂̅̈́̔̉͝'̵̛̜̭͍̝̬͉̬̮̗̄͐́͌́̽'

My thoughts became louder and head ached so much that I was unable to understand what they were saying, but the tone of them was panicked and confused. I hadn't had a headache this bad since...I don't remember when, but it was a long time ago.

"United?" Dr. Franklin asked, standing up in concern. I groaned in pain as an image of Delaware's state seal flashed through my mind. I walked over to the couch and sat down as the headache grew and keep my balance was becoming impossible.

"United are you alright?" He asked as the pain grew. The image of Delaware's state seal grew more and more vivid, until I could pick out the details of the seal. The farmer and the militiaman, the wheat and the boat. Then I started to feel the pain flare up once more and then it was gone.

I pulled open my eyes, having closed the due to the pain. In front of me was a child, with a face that bore Delaware's state seal. Dr. Franklin looked at me in amazement. I looked at the countryhuman in front of me.

'What the fuck!'

'Oh come on.'

'This is just bullshit now.'

"Delaware." I muttered, looking over my son. "You're Delaware."

The child smiled and nodded.

"This must of happened due to the state ratifying the Constitution. Congratulations United." Dr. Franklin said, smiling down at me. They were ratifying the Constitution. I was going to survive. But then another thought hit me right then.

"I'm a father. I had a child. If this happens for all the states I'm going to have thirteen children!" I exclaimed in alarm. I already loved my son, but would I make a good parent? My former father was good, until those goddamn taxes.

'Great. I don't think this will end well.'

'Which part?'

'Thirteen children part.'

'How can he have kids if he's a man.'

'Magic countryhuman bullshit now shut the hell up before there's an existential crisis.'

What if I messed up the way he did? What if I destroyed my relationship with my children?

'Don't worry. You aren't British Empire.'

"United. Don't doubt yourself. You will make a great father. I'll help you for as long as I can." Dr. Franklin assured. I nodded, but I was still a bit panicked. I didn't expect to have a kid. How was I supposed to run my country and take care of my kids? What if my kids hated me? What if British Empire tried to use them against me?

'Stop thinking about British Empire. We're independent! He will only continue to control your life you you constantly think about him.'

"I think you will be a good Father Dad." Delaware said, continuing to smile at me before pulling me into a hug. I felt a smile tug at my lips before hugging him back.

'I hope the ratification of Pennsylvania is next.'

"We...we should probably tell Congress." I eventually said. They would want to know. The member of Congress would also like to meet their states. I just hope this doesn't lead to any infighting.

"Yes, they will want to know. I'm sure there are other people you will want to tell." Dr. Franklin said. I smiled.

'Vermont!'

'General Washington.'

'Alexander!'

"I can think of a few. I'll write letters to them once we get to New York. I have to figure out how to take care of a child." I told Dr. Franklin. I hope the reveal of my states getting countryhumans wouldn't lead to internal divisions. My people were very proud of their state identities. I just hoped they could be proud of their national identity as well.

————————————————-

December 12, 1787

Pennsylvania had just joined the union, gaining a countryhuman, or I guess statehuman, the same way Delaware did. Pain in Pennsylvania's star and stripe, followed by the statehuman coming into existence.

Pennsylvania didn't have a seal like Delaware did, so her face was a faded version of my flag. She also spoke German, which wasn't surprising, due to the large amounts of Germans that lived in her state.

"Ich möchte ein Staatssiegel.  Ich möchte nicht wie Sie aussehen, besonders wenn wir mehr Staaten haben, die keine Siegel haben.  Es wird zu verwirrend sein." (I want a state seal. I don't want to be stuck looking just like you, especially when we get more states that don't have seals. It will be too confusing.) Pennsylvania told me.

'Well that was blunt.'

'And a bit rude.'

That was another thing I had noticed about becoming independent. Before I declared independence I only knew English and French, and a little bit of Spanish. But I could understand German now. Did this have something to do with that fact that I didn't have an official language?

"Are you saying Dad's flag isn't good?" Delaware asked. Pennsylvania blushed.

"It is, I just want my own!" She said, switching back to English.

"It's alright Delaware. I understood what she meant. Besides, I want her to have her own flag as well, mainly because if all of you had my flag, well..." I said, trailing off.

"Yeah good point that'd be creepy." Delaware said.

"Ich werde mit meinen staatlichen Gesetzgebern darüber sprechen, mich zu einem Siegel zu machen." (I'm going to talk to my state legislators about making me a seal.) Pennsylvania said as she stood up.

'She's a day old and had the body of a ten year old.'

'And yet she speaks like she's thirty.'

"Pennsylvania, Penny, you can't do that. You look ten and you're a day old. We can send a letter and travel their after all of the states have ratified the Constitution if you still don't have a seal." I told her, the nickname slipping for. Pennsylvania looked thoughtful before crossing her arms.

"Fein." (Fine) she huffed out, sitting down on a chair.

"Be patient Penny. We'll get to it eventually." Delaware said.

"Says you. You already have a seal!" Pennsylvania said.

"Oh come on not all the states have seals." Delaware responded.

'Maryland and North Carolina need seals.'

'And Rhode Island got ahead by making a seal in the 1600s.'

"Like who?" Pennsylvania asked. Delaware blushed.

"Someone. I don't know." He said, embarrassed. Pennsylvania started laughing as Delaware's face turned more red.

"Penny don't laugh at your brother." I said. Fuck parenting feels weird. Why do I have to be the mature one?

————————————————————————

December 18, 1787

"Take him back. Why do we need him?" Delaware said after New Jersey came into existence.

'Del! You're supposed to be the mature one.'

"Hey Del fuck you." New Jersey said.

"Please don't fight. And Delaware how do you already hate him? He came into existence an hour ago." I asked, confused about why Delaware would pick a fight as soon as he got a new brother.

"Past grievances. He knows what he did." Delaware said. What does that mean?

'Wow he is petty about that.'

"Del I'm an hour old. There's no way I could of done whatever you think I did. We never existed before the ratification of the Constitution." New Jersey argued. Delaware rolled his eyes and then left.

"Können wir jetzt mein Siegel machen?" (Can we go make my seal now?) Pennsylvania asked. I sighed.

'She will not let that go will she?'

"After the other states come Penny. We have one out of thirteen. I'd rather not be on the road when one of you guys are born." I said.

"Aber es ist nicht so, dass der Rest der Staaten wichtig ist.  Der wichtigste Staat, ich, wurde geboren, also sind wir alle gut." (But it's not like the rest of the states are important. The most important state, me, has been born, so we're all good.) Pennsylvania said, causing New Jersey to bust into laughter.

'WHAT THE FUCK!'

'Well now that that's just rude.'

'WHAT THE FUCK!'

'I can't tell if she's being serious or if that's a joke.'

'WHAT THE FUCK!'

'SHUT UP!'

"Penny!" I said, trying to muffle my own amusement at the comment.

"Penny, I agree that every other state is horrible. The only thing wrong is when you said you were the most important. I could care less about you." New Jersey said.

"Jersey! You can't say that." I said. God I didn't feel like a good parent. What is I was fucking up and they didn't like me?

'Relax. You'll do fine.'

'The states are a part of you. They understand you.'

"I hate everyone." Was his response. I sighed. So far the states seems to be very unique. Delaware was mature, Pennsylvania was German, and New Jersey hated everyone. They were all so different. I was nervous about having to take care of thirteen children.

"Geht es dir gut, Vater?  Du siehst ängstlich aus." (Are you okay Father? You look anxious.) Pennsylvania said.

"I'm fine...just worried I'm not doing to be able to take care of you properly." I said.

"Well you do have help." I heard Vermont say from behind me. I turned around to see Vermont in the doorway to the room.

"Vermont? What are you doing here?" I asked, confused at why he was here.

"Helping. United, my country's land used to belong to yours. Technically your my dad, and I want to meet my siblings." Vermont said as he was walked into the room.

'Vermont's your kid too?'

'Well at least there's another mature one there.'

"I hadn't...I...I didn't realize." I said. Vermont shrugged.

"Don't worry about it. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to you have a crisis in the middle of your Revolution. Now that it's over and things are calming down, so your my dad." Vermont said.

"Then why weren't you born like the states?" I asked. The states caused a lot of pain in my head, and there is no way I didn't notice it. Vermont smiled.

"Papa, countries and states are different." He answered. That made sense. Things are so confusing right now.

"Hallo Vermont.  Bitte ignorieren Sie New Jersey, wenn er sagt, dass er Sie hasst.  Er hasst alle." (Hello Vermont. Please ignore New Jersey if he says he hates you. He hates everyone.) Pennsylvania said, looking up at Vermont.

"She's so tiny." Vermont said.

"Ich bin nicht winzig!  Del ist winzig!" (I'm not tiny! Del is tiny!) Pennsylvania protested.

"I'm not short!" Delaware said, walking up to stand next to Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania was taller than him by a lot. Vermont laughed.

"Sorry petit frère, but you are tiny." Vermont laughed out. Delaware huffed.

"I'm not tiny!"

——————————————————————————

January 2, 1788

Georgia was very soft spoken state. At first. She was actually very good insulting people without the realizing it. Delaware had to stop himself from laughing as Georgia insulted New Jersey without him realizing yet again.

"Del I know you hate me, but what are you laughing at?" New Jersey asked.

'How has he not realized he's being insulted yet?'

"New Jersey if you keep sayin' you hate everyone, you're goin' to make people mad." Georgia said.

"Like me, and Georgia." Delaware added, holding up a hand.

'Seriously, why does Del hate Jersey do much?'

'He doesn't hate Jersey, they just enjoy harping on each other.'

"Okay quit harping on me Del. I get it." New Jersey said. Pennsylvania and Georgia rolled their eyes. Vermont gave me a confused look. I shrugged. The four existing states seemed to have some sort of history together, despite the oldest of them being twenty-six days old.

"Did you guys exist before your became states?" Vermont asked. New Jersey's eyes widened slightly, but he, Georgia, and Pennsylvania denied it. I looked at Delaware, who was holding his head in his hands.

'Oh. That's...a question.'

"Del?" I asked. Delaware looked up.

"Vad?  Mitt huvud gör ont.  Jag tror att jag drabbades hårt." (What? My head hurts. I think I was hit hard.) Delaware said, his eyes looking glassy. Swedish? Why was he speaking Swedish? And why did he think he head been hit.

'Del?'

'Is he alright?'

"Delaware? Are you okay?" I asked. The glassiness cleared from Delaware's eyes.

"Yes. Why are you asking?" He said.

"Your started speakin' another language." Georgia said. Realization appeared in Delaware's eyes.

"Oh yeah. I realized that. Sorry, I've been having weird dreams." Delaware said. Why would weird dreams cause him to start speaking Swedish?

"Are you sure?" Pennsylvania asked. Delaware nodded.

"Why'd you think we existed before we became states Vermont?" New Jersey asked. Vermont shrugged.

"You seem to have a history, and I don't know, it just feels like you guys are older than you're supposed to be." Vermont said. New Jersey shrugged.

"I'm just as old as I'm supposed to be." New Jersey said.

'Well that's cryptic.'

'But he ain't wrong.'

"Do you know when other southern states are joining?" Georgia asked. I shook my head.

"The South wanted stronger state governments as opposed to stronger federal government. The rest of the South will probably ratify it after a lot of the northern states." I explained. Georgia looked disappointed.

"Hey, I'm a southern state, kind of, at least. I'll be your south buddy until another one joins." Delaware said, hugging Georgia. She smiled.

"Thank you Del." She said. Pennsylvania opened her mouth.

'Pleased don't bring up the seal.'

"Stop asking about the fucking seal Penny." New Jersey said.

"I wasn't even going to ask about that." She protested. I smiled. The states seemed unusually mature so far, but that might just be because their states and governments have been around for a long time.

I'll probably have younger and less mature states as time goes on and new states are added.

Hopefully I'll be ready for that. And hopefully things don't end the way they did with British Empire.

—————————————————————

January 9, 1788

"Hello Connecticut. My name was actually Republic of New Connecticut for a little bit." Vermont said as he greeted the new state.

"You should of kept that name." Connecticut responded. Vermont smiled.

"Well my people are also called the New Hampshire Grants." Vermont added on.

'No he should of kept that name.'

"Stop stealing people's names!" New Jersey called from the other room, were he, Pennsylvania, and Delaware were.

"I didn't chose them!" Vermont yelled back.

"Well now I don't like you as much. I though you were cool because you named yourself after me, finding out your name changed was disappointing, but since you don't pick it you no longer the best brother." Connecticut said, causing Georgia to start laughing incredibly hard, while Vermont looked offended.

'I don't think we're capable of being nice to each other.'

"Merci." (Thank you.) he said before leaving the room.

"I like Connecticut." New Jersey said, sticking his head into the room.

'Probably because they both like insulting everyone they meet.'

"Of course you do." Georgia sighed out, shaking her head, trying to stifle the remains of her laugher.

"What is that supposed to mean?" New Jersey asked, walking into the room. Connecticut raised an eyebrow.

"I think she's trying to say we're both rude or something." Connecticut said. New Jersey rolled his eyes.

"I'm not rude, I'm just painfully honest." He protested, causing Georgia to raise an eyebrow.

'There is a line between rude and honest, and you crossed it.'

'Well he does speak his mind. And his mind is rude to others.'

'So he's both rude and painfully honest?'

Connecticut raised up his hand.

"I agree with that." He said. New Jersey gestured towards Connecticut.

"See!" He said, smiling. I smiled. That was the first time I had seen New Jersey smile.

"Jersey you should smile more." I said. New Jersey looked shocked, then embarrassed.

"I didn't smile. I don't smile. I hate everyone and I'm incredibly rude." He said.

"What happened to painfully honest?" Connecticut asked. New Jersey frowned.

"Things change." He said before leaving the room.

"If things change you should change your hair. It could look better." Georgia remarked as he left the room, making Connecticut smile.

I love my kids, but the more of them that came, the more worried I became. The states seem to already have pre-existing rifts between them, and I didn't want to make things worse. I didn't want to hurt my kids the way British Empire hurt me.

This is gonna be split up into 3 parts, with the other parts each having 4 states.

#oneshots by weird #weird’s wattpad stories #countryhumans #statehumans #writing

[arknights-imagines]

The Christmas letter and gift prompt with Texas and a Male Operator S/O who was a part of the Texas family alongside her but ended up leaving and joining Penguin Logistics together with Texas would be nice. Thank you very much.

From, Texas

Christmas Letter and Gift event

Letting a sigh leave you, you - along with Exusiai and Croissant - step out of the van with cargo in your arms and a relieved expression on your face. A successful Operation, and even more fortunately, your last Operation until your Holiday break started.

“Yo, [Name]!” Exusiai’s energetic voice fills you with some vigor, and you nod as you turn to face her, “This is for you! Happy Holidays~!” Your eyes fill with confusion as she hands to you a grey envelope that's slightly crumpled around the corners. Shifting the boxes retrieved from the mission to one arm, you sent Exusiai a small thanks, “But you didn't have to get me anything-” “Eh? Me?” She blinks animatedly, before shaking her head, “This is from the Lupo ice princess! She had to stay back with Sora for a bit, so she told me to give this to you ASAP.”

Sure enough, when you flip the letter over, your name is written on the back of the envelope in Texas’ round, bold penmanship; there was no mistake, the envelope was definitely from her.

Unbeknownst to you, your eyes sparkle a little and your lips pull into a small grin at the mention of Texas alone, “I see, that makes more sense. Thanks Exusiai.” You nod to the curb just outside the entrance to the Penguin Logistics base, “You can head back inside, I’m going to stay out here for some air.”

Grinning, Exusiai sends you a playful salute before taking her leave - Croissant not too far behind. Now alone, you set the cargo crates down as you take a seat on the edge of the curb, opening the envelope and letting your eyes fall to the words printed on the lined sheet of paper inside.

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

Hey [name].

I would’ve just told you all this stuff in person, but I think we both know I’m not one for words. Plus, when I’m around you, I lose my train of thought, so I’m writing to you so I can tell you what I need to properly.

It’s Christmas season, which means Exusiai and the rest of them are gonna be even more rowdier than usual. Can't really blame them, you probably remember that the Boss didn't give us a Holiday break last year because we got caught up with some problems during our Operations with Rhodes Island. So now they’re gonna celebrate twice as hard to make up for the party we missed.

But I’m kind of happy about that. I’ll get more time to spend with you while the rest of them celebrate the whole night. [Name], thanks to all the work we’ve been getting, the alone time we have has been becoming less and less. I think we deserve a break. To be honest...there’s a lot I want to say to you.

We’ve been together for a long time, sugar. ...Have I really gotten used to calling you that? I know it started out as a joke because of the chocolate sticks I like to snack on, but I think it actually suits you nice. So, if it doesn't bother you, I’ll keep sticking with it.

Sorry. I’ve already gone off topic.

[Name], remember when we first met? Yeah, it was when we were still part of the Texas family. It’s kind of hard to believe that we’ve known each other this long, and even more unbelievable than that is that we’ve stayed with each other throughout all these years.

When I stop to think about it, I have you to thank for that, sugar. I can't count the amount of times we were so close to being separated, only for you to somehow find me again. It’s almost a miracle that we’ve never lost each other.

What we left behind when we left the Texas family...someday it’s gonna catch up to us. We can't run forever, and we can only run so far. I don't know if you’ve ever thought about that, but I have.

Despite that, I don't feel nervous about any of it. It’s not that I don't care, but sugar...when you’re around, I feel really at ease. I feel like I can take anything on as long as you're there with me. Maybe that doesn't make a lot of sense….sorry, I’m not that good at this.

The point I’m trying to get across is that we’ve endured a lot, and you’ve always been there to pick me up off my feet or fight alongside me. We helped each other get to where we are. If things had gone differently and you hadn't left the Texas family with me, I’m not really sure where I would be. You really deserve a pat on the back.

I feel like I haven't done enough to express how thankful I am for you. I can just say ‘thank you for everything’ and call it a day, but I don't feel like that's enough. You’re the only person I’ve ever held this close to my heart, the only person I’ve ever felt this way toward. So many times, it’s been you and I. You were my first friend, and now you’re my lover.

Lover. That word makes my stomach fill with butterflies.

Sugar, I don't feel like I deserve you. Maybe that's not the right way to say it...let me elaborate. There’s so many other people I think could love you much better than I could, people that express their emotions better, people that I feel like you would be much happier with, and yet...you chose me. For that, thanks. I’m really grateful.

I don't have a lot to give you, [name], but I think it's only fair that I promise to always stay by your side and find my way back to you, just like you’ve always been doing for me.

So even when our pasts finally catch up to us, I swear that we’ll always be together.

About being together - sugar, what do you wanna do for Christmas? We don't have to do anything if you don't want to, but I have a few things in mind. I actually got you a little gift that we might be able to use on Christmas day, but if you don't feel like going out we can just stay in and listen to Sora’s new Holiday album. I don't mind so long as I get to spend some time with you.

Thanks for reading this. It was supposed to be a Christmas letter but...it got a little sentimental, sorry. I hope I got my points across.

I love you, [name]. Thanks for sticking with me, I really mean that. We left a lot of things behind when we left the Texas family, and now that we’re both working for Penguin Logistics we’ve got a lot ahead of us. I’ll fight my hardest so we can stay together matter what gets thrown at us.

I’ll see you later.

Texas

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

As you finish the letter, snow starts to fall and the air around you becomes chillier, but all you feel is warmth hugging your body, as if you have a fuzzy blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Texas’ words may not be the most romantic, but the sincerity in her words and the meaning behind them make your heart beat faster.

Just as you were about to fold the letter back into the envelope and head back inside, you notice a few other things still inside the envelope - a small note as well as a pair of movie tickets; one for you, and one for Texas.

You grin at the tickets; they’re for an old vintage-style theatre in the city that you and Texas had passed by during one of your small dates together - under the stars, you and her had sat atop the top of one of the buildings in the city and pointed out things on the street below that caught your eyes. You recall the title of the movie as well - it’s the first Holiday movie the both of you had watched with Penguin Logistics all those Christmases ago. You’re a little surprised she remembers that day, you thought you were the only one between the two of you who had a vivid recollection of it.

Eyes going to the note, you hold the tickets in your palm as you read it, ‘Merry Christmas, sugar. I know the tickets are nothing very extravagant, but I hope they’re a good enough gift. I saw that that cinema was playing that old movie we watched a long time ago, so I felt compelled to buy tickets for us. It gives us something to do on Christmas Day.’ As the note closes, another van pulls into the driveway of the base, and from the car window you catch a glimpse of Sora, with Texas in the seat just beside her. You smile as you stand up with her letter tucked in your pocket; timing had never been so perfect. ‘I miss spending time alone with you, [name], but then I remember - I promised I’d make sure we stay together forever and I intend on keeping my promise. Forever is a long, long time, so I wont worry.’

#i hope i wrote texas alright 😭🥺 #arknights #arknights imagines #arknights texas #arknights x reader #texas arknights #arknights imagine #arknights fanfic #arknights fanfics #arknights writing #christmas event #imagine #imagines #writing

[kny111]

Slave Ships

Slave ships were large cargo ships specially converted for the purpose of transporting slaves. Such ships were also known as "Guineamen" because the trade involved human trafficking to and from the Guinea coast in West Africa.

Atlantic slave trade

In the early 1600s, more than a century after the arrival of Europeans to the Americas, demand for unpaid labor to work plantations made slave-trading a profitable business. The peak time of slave ships to the Atlantic passage was between the 18th and early-19th centuries, when large plantations developed in the southern colonies of North America.

To ensure profitability, the owners of the ships divided their hulls into holds with little headroom, so they could transport as many slaves as possible. Unhygienic conditions, dehydration, dysentery and scurvy led to a high mortality rate, on average 15% and up to a third of captives. Often the ships carried hundreds of slaves, who were chained tightly to plank beds. For example, the slave ship Henrietta Marie carried about 200 slaves on the long Middle Passage. They were confined to cargo holds with each slave chained with little room to move.

The most significant routes of the slave ships led from the north-western and western coasts of Africa to South America and the south-east coast of what is today the United States, and the Caribbean. As many as 20 million Africans were transported by ship. The transportation of slaves from Africa to America was known as the Middle Passage of the triangular trade.

Conditions On Slave Ships

Enslaved People

The Slave Trade Act 1788, also known as Dolben's Act, regulated conditions on board British slave ships for the first time since the slave trade started. It was introduced to the United Kingdom parliament by Sir William Dolben, an advocate for the abolition of slavery. For the first time, limits were placed on the number of enslaved people that could be carried. Under the terms of the act, ships could transport 1.67 slaves per ton up to a maximum of 207 tons burthen, after which only one slave per ton could be carried. The well-known slave ship Brookes was limited to carrying 454 people; it had previously transported as many as 609 enslaved. Olaudah Equiano was among the supporters of the act but it was opposed by some abolitionists, such as William Wilberforce, who feared it would establish the idea that the slave trade simply needed reform and regulation, rather than complete abolition. Slave counts can also be estimated by deck area rather than registered tonnage, which results in a lower number of errors and only 6% deviation from reported figures.

This limited reduction in the overcrowding on slave ships may have reduced the on-board death rate, but this is disputed by some historians

Sailors and crew

In the 18th and early 19th centuries, the sailors on slave ships were often poorly paid and subject to brutal discipline and treatment. Furthermore, a crew mortality rate of around 20% was expected during a voyage, with sailors dying as a result of disease, flogging or slave uprisings. While conditions for the crew were far better than those of the enslaved people, they remained harsh and contributed to a high death rate. Sailors often had to live and sleep without shelter on the open deck for the entirety of the Atlantic voyage as the space below deck was occupied by slaves.

Disease, specifically malaria and yellow fever, was the most common cause of death among sailors. A high crew mortality rate on the return voyage was in the captain's interests as it reduced the number of sailors who had to be paid on reaching the home port. Crew members who survived were frequently cheated out of their wages on their return. These aspects of the slave trade were widely known; the notoriety of slave ships amongst sailors meant those joining slave ship crews did so through coercion or because they could find no other employment. This was often the case for sailors who had spent time in prison.

Abolition of the slave trade

The African slave trade was outlawed by the United States and the United Kingdom in 1807. The applicable UK act was the Abolition of the Slave Trade Act and outlawed the slave trade throughout the British Empire. The US law took effect on 1 January 1808. After that date, all US and British slave ships leaving Africa were legally pirate vessels subject to capture by the United States Navy or Royal Navy. In 1815, at the Council of Vienna, Spain, Portugal, France, and the Netherlands also agreed to abolish their slave trade. Between 1807 and 1860 British vessels would capture slave ships and free the slaves; they captured 1,600 ships and freed 160,000 slaves in this time.

After abolition, slave ships adopted quicker, more maneuverable forms to evade capture by naval warships, one favorite form being the Baltimore Clipper. Some had hulls fitted with copper sheathing. This was very expensive work that at this time was only commonly done to Royal Navy vessels; however, it increased speed by preventing the growth of marine weed on the hull, which would otherwise cause drag. The speed of slave ships made them attractive ships to repurpose for piracy, and also made them attractive for naval use after capture; USS Nightingale and HMS Black Joke were examples of such vessels. HMS Black Joke had a notable career in Royal Navy service and was responsible for capturing a number of slave ships and freeing many hundreds of slaves.

There have been attempts by descendants of African slaves to sue Lloyd's of London for playing a key role in underwriting insurance policies taken out on slave ships bringing slaves from Africa to the Americas.

List of Slave Ships

Antelope, Spanish slave ship captured near Florida in 1820 with 283 slaves aboard, leading to The Antelope case.

Aurore, along with Duc du Maine, the first French slave ships that brought the first slaves to Louisiana.

La Amistad, general-purpose cargo ship that also carried slaves on occasion. A successful slave revolt on ship gave rise to a case that reached the Supreme Court in United States v. The Amistad.

Brookes, sailing in the 1780s.[25]

City of Norfolk, fitted out in New York City by Albert Horn.[26]

Clotilda, burned and sunk at Mobile, in 1859 or 1860.

Cora, captured by USS Constellation in 1860.

Creole, involved in the United States coastwise slave trade and the scene of a slave rebellion in 1841, leading to the Creole case.

Desire, first American slave ship.[27]

Duc du Maine, along with Aurore, the first French slave ships that brought the first slaves to Louisiana.

Elisabeth, sailing from Jamaica for West Africa.[citation needed]

Erie, the ship owned and captained by Nathaniel Gordon, the only American executed for slave trading

Esmeralda, captured 1 November 1864 off Loango, West Coast of Africa, by HMS Rattler (1864) and Taken to St. Helena to prize court by C.G. Nelson midshipman in command.[citation needed]

Fredensborg, Danish slave ship, sank in 1768 off Tromøya in Norway, after a journey in the triangular trade. Leif Svalesen [da] wrote a book about the journey.

Gallito, Spanish slave ship carrying 136 Africans when captured by HMS Nimble 16 November 1829.

Guerrero, Spanish slave ship wrecked in the Florida Keys in 1827 carrying 561 Africans.

Hannibal, an English slaver of the Atlantic slave trade.

The Hawk, The Hawk sailed for Calabar, with instructions to buy 340 slaves.[28]

Hebe, Portuguese slave ship carrying 401 Angolans when captured by HMS Nimble 13 July 1832.

Henrietta Marie, sank in 1700 near Marquesas Keys, Florida, excavated in 1980s.

Hermosa, a schooner whose 1840 grounding in the Bahamas led to a controversy between the US and Britain over the 38 slaves who had been on board the ship.

Hope, American brig that brought slaves to Rhode Island

Isabella, British slave ship that brought the first 150 African slaves to the American port of Philadelphia in 1684.

Joaquina, Spanish slave ship carrying 348 Africans when captured by HMS Nimble 10 November 1833.

Josefa, Spanish schooner carrying 206 slaves when captured by HMS Monkey 7 April 1829.

Jesus of Lübeck, a 700-ton ship used on the second voyage of John Hawkins to transport 400 captured Africans in 1564. Queen Elizabeth I was his partner and rented him the vessel.

King David, sailing from St Christophers, on St Kitts in the Caribbean 1749.[29]

La Concord, a slave ship captured by the pirate Blackbeard (Edward Teach), used as his flagship and renamed Queen Anne's Revenge. Run aground in June 1718.

La Negrita, Spanish slave ship carrying 189 Africans when captured by HMS Nimble May 1833.

Lord Ligonier. See Roots: The Saga of an American Family by Alex Haley.

Don Francisco, a slave ship captured in 1837. Sold as a colonial trader and renamed James Matthews. Excavated by Western Australian Museum in 1974.

Madre de Deus, 1567. John Hawkins captured this ship and transported 400 Africans.

Manuela, built as clipper ship Sunny South, captured by HMS Brisk in Mozambique Channel with over 800 slaves aboard.

Manuelita, Spanish slave ship carrying 485 Africans when captured by HMS Nimble 7 December 1833.

Margaret Scott, confiscated and sunk as part of the Stone fleet in 1862

Meermin, a Dutch East India Company ship active between southern Africa and Madagascar, whose final voyage in 1766 ended in mutiny by the slaves: around half the crew and nearly 30 Malagasy died, and the ship was destroyed.[30]

Midas, 360-ton Spanish slave ship captured by HMS Monkey 27 June 1829. Midas had left Africa in April 1829 with 562 Africans, but only 369 were still alive when she was captured, and 72 more died of "smallpox, diarrhea & scurvy" before Monkey and HMS Nimble could take Midas into Havana.[31]

Nightingale, clipper ship captured by Saratoga near Cabinda, Angola in 1861 with 961 slaves aboard.

Pons, American-built barque captured by USS Yorktown on 1 December 1845 with 850–900 slaves.[32]

Providencia, Spanish brig carrying 400 slaves when captured by HMS Monkey in 1829.

São José Paquete Africa, a Portuguese slave ship which sank off the coast of South Africa in 1794 killing over 200 of the enslaved men and women.

Tecora, Portuguese slave ship that transported the slaves who would later revolt aboard La Amistad.

Triton captured by USS Constellation in 1861.[citation needed]

Trouvadore, wrecked in Turks and Caicos 1841. 193 slaves survived. Project commenced in 2004 to locate the ship.[33]

Wanderer, formerly last slave ship to the U.S. (November 1858) until Clotilda reported in 1859 or 1860.

Wildfire, a barque, arrested off the Florida coast by the US Navy in 1860; carrying 450 slaves.[34]

Whydah Gally, a ship that transported cargo, passengers, and slaves. Captured by the pirate Captain Samuel "Black Sam" Bellamy and used for piracy, eventually grounded during a Nor'easter at Cape Cod and sunk in April 1717. 

Zong , a British slave ship infamous for the1781 massacre of 132 sick and dying slaves who were thrown overboard in an attempt to guarantee that the ship's owners could collect on their cargo insurance.

Source: Wikipedia / Slave ships

#slavery #slave ship #concept art #racism #neocolonialism #capitalism #white supremacy #info #information #resources #education

[ocw-archive]

Woody Harrelson, By Owen Wilson - Interview Magazine - September 28, 2009

Woody Harrelson could so easily have remained the adorable goof behind America’s favorite bar forever. It’s hard to believe now, but for a while playing Woody Boyd on the sitcom Cheers seemed like the summit of Harrelson’s career. [...] He talks to his friend and gambling partner Owen Wilson about The Messenger, as well as speeding, losing at poker, jumping out at roommates, and a number of other eccentricities he’s managed to pick up over the years.

OWEN WILSON: Hey, buddy.

WOODY HARRELSON: Hey.

WILSON: Where are you?

HARRELSON: I’m in the beloved state of Hawaii. Maui.

WILSON: Where?

HARRELSON: I’m at your house. [laughs] No, I’m up in my house.

WILSON: Sounds like you’ve had a good run of poker there. Last you said, you won three games in a row?

HARRELSON: Yeah, three times in a row. That never happens. But I’m also managing to pull the chute a little earlier and get the hell out before I give it all back and start writing chits.

WILSON: That’s always been the scouting report on you in poker: Not a lot of discipline. So I’m glad to see that you’re learning how to walk away.

HARRELSON: Yeah, I’ve got to look at your scouting report sometime.

WILSON: We’re probably the two worst players in that Maui poker game.

HARRELSON: It’s not that. We’re just the most trusting.

WILSON: We’re the most optimistic, the most hopeful.

HARRELSON: We believe in our own luck.

WILSON: It’s such a cast of characters that play in that Maui poker game. I remember our one friend saying it looked like the bar scene from Star Wars.

HARRELSON: Those guys are scoundrels, man. They sit there and pick you clean.

WILSON: I’m out in Malibu right now, and I was just thinking that you lived out here when you worked on Cheers, didn’t you?

HARRELSON: Yeah, I was out there until I was about 33.

WILSON: That seems like a long commute from here to Paramount Studios on Melrose.

HARRELSON: I never broke the 25-minute barrier, but I could always make it in under a half hour.

WILSON: Which is insane.

HARRELSON: Well, I had my motorcycle. I took the PCH [Pacific Coast Highway] to [Highway] 10 to Crenshaw [Boulevard], just trying to fight the traffic.

WILSON: Wow, that’s flying. When did you first come to L.A.?

HARRELSON: I came in around ’85.

I was on Cheers for eight years, and I couldn’t get another job, and I thought, I’m going to be Woody Boyd forever. Which is not bad, but I really thought I was capable of more.

WILSON: I remember you saying that you had already landed the role on Cheers and that you were rooming with Clem [Franek] and the Farrellys. I also remember you saying that when you first did interviews for Cheers and people asked you who the funniest guys you knew were, you’d say these guys from Rhode Island, the Farrelly brothers . . .

HARRELSON: I was always saying that. Who knew that they’d become these comedy phenoms?

WILSON: I remember Pete Farrelly saying that you guys would do things to try to scare each other.

HARRELSON: Yeah, I’d sometimes hide in his bathroom. . . I might wait an hour or so for him.

WILSON: Pete said that he’d come home and fix himself something to eat, go into his bedroom, start watching TV or reading. Then after an hour or two, he’d finally go into the bathroom to get ready to go to bed, brushing his teeth in the mirror, and suddenly you’d appear from the shower. [both laugh] This means you’d been waiting for two hours. That’s a real commitment to a joke.

HARRELSON: Yeah, it’s a little twisted. He finally put a stop to it. And one time he slapped me because he got so freaked out. He started screaming, “Never do that again! I could have a heart attack!” So that ended the fun of that one.

WILSON: When did you first get interested in acting?

HARRELSON: High school. I heard that if you were a terrific athlete, you could attract girls. So I had to look into some other possibilities. [laughs] I got into theater actually because of this girl, Robin Rogers. After she saw me do an Elvis impersonation in the library, she said I should be in the theater. And I was like, “If Robin Rogers wants me to be in theater, I’m going to be in theater.”

WILSON: You did a good Elvis impersonation?

HARRELSON: [In Elvis voice] Well, I, uh, uh, don’t want to brag, but, uh, uh, I surely did.

WILSON: Obviously you made the transition from doing theater to meet girls to something that you found you were good at.

HARRELSON: It really was specifically so I could hang out with Robin. I started dating her up until my freshman year in college. She came to visit me at college and got really upset because I had a paper that I hadn’t even started and she didn’t want to watch me peck away at my typewriter. She got furious, and our relationship ended. But, yeah, I found out I really liked acting.

WILSON: When did you decide to try to make acting your job?

HARRELSON: Well, I think it was because my buddy Clint Allen, who went to Hanover College with me, said that he was going to try out for Juilliard. And if he got accepted, he asked if I’d move to New York and be his roommate. I said, “Well, sure!” thinking the odds were astronomical that he’d get accepted. But he did. So I went. I was planning to bounce around and do regional theater and summer stock and eventually make my way to New York. But it happened faster that way.

WILSON: I’ve never done any theater acting. What did you like so much about it?

HARRELSON: We’re never going to be rock stars, which is probably everybody’s real dream. So that’s our only chance to get up in front of a live audience.

WILSON: Do people still send you plays or do you look for them?

HARRELSON: Well, mostly it’s been people sending things. But lately I’ve been looking for something to do that’s really cool. Dustin Hoffman said he would love to do a play with me, so I’ve been trying to think of one. Frances McDormand also wanted to do one. They both said this to me casually. But I take it very seriously, so I’ve been looking around. The thought of doing something they could all be in—and maybe Ben Foster as well. That would be pretty cool. WILSON: You and Ben worked on The Messenger together. It was some of the best work I’ve seen in a long time.

HARRELSON: Thanks, man. This fellow named Oren Moverman co-wrote the script. He’s a fantastic writer and director. When I first read the script, they wanted me to do a small part, and I really didn’t want to, although it was one of the greatest scripts I had read. They wanted me to play the colonel, which was more of a cameo thing. But when I said I couldn’t do it, they said, “What about this other part, Captain Tony Stone.” And I was like, “Ah, yes. I think that one is a fantastic part.”

WILSON: Did you do any research?

HARRELSON: Well, you might remember I was picking your brain, finding out all about your military service. And I got to go meet a lot of soldiers, a lot of people in the Army, which was a great experience for me because I’m not a big lover of these wars we have going on here, which I would consider oil wars. So it was nice to spend some time with the soldiers and realize their part in all this and how truly heroic they are, doing what they’re doing—all this for no money and just for the love of their country and fellow man, really putting their lives on the line. So I really became a fan of the warrior but not the war.

WILSON: Did you speak with anyone who actually had your job? The “messenger” refers to the characters that you and Ben Foster play, who are military officials who give news to the next of kin about a death.

HARRELSON: Casualty notification officers. Yeah, I talked to a few of those guys, and they say it’s the hardest job in the Army. You can imagine it would be pretty tough to have to go and tell people that news. There’s not really that much they can say. It’s incredibly difficult, so painful. What’s cool, though, is that the Army really got behind the film and supported it and let us shoot on the Fort Dix military base. They wanted people to recognize this part of the program. But I don’t want anyone to think this movie is a bummer. It is really quite uplifting. Oren Moverman is an amazing director. He did so many extraordinary things—like letting a scene go for nine minutes long. Your buddy Ben Stiller saw the movie and had lunch with him the next day. He wants to work with him.

WILSON: After the stories you heard from the Army, did you do any improvising?

HARRELSON: The script was pretty polished by the time I read it, but we did do a lot of improvising and we did throw in things, sometimes just spontaneously. Like in one scene I sing an army song . . . .

WILSON: I remember when you were working on No Country for Old Men. I guess you were doing a scene with Javier [Bardem], and you guys just started talking. It was that incredible last scene you were in with all of that tension. I remember you saying that you guys brainstormed dialogue together, and you came up with some ideas and wrote out a couple of pages. And you guys were excited and showed them to the Coens, and they said, “Yeah, this could be good.” But then you ended up doing it the way they had it. [both laugh]

HARRELSON: I actually saw so much good material in Cormac McCarthy’s book. There was cool stuff like “You keep looking at my eyes like you think if you keep looking at my eyes I won’t shoot you.” So I actually rewrote the scene, and Javier and I got together in the evening and memorized it, and then we went in the next day and performed it for those guys, and they were like, “Yeah, you know what? Let’s keep it the way it was.” [laughs] I think they did change one line, which for them is unusual, being such maestros, and I was being presumptuous. But I’m one of those actors who is going to come in with 2,500 ideas. You can shoot down 2,499, but one of them you’re going to like.

WILSON: Your body of work has been amazing. There aren’t many actors who have done so many different things. I mean, to go from Cheers, where the character had your name, and break out of that and then go from Natural Born Killers to The People vs. Larry Flynt and then Kingpin [1996], which you did with the Farrellys—that’s real range.

HARRELSON: You know, I was on Cheers for eight years, and I couldn’t get another job, and I thought, I’m going to be Woody Boyd forever. Which is not bad, but I really thought I was capable of more.

WILSON: What do you think was your real break into movies?

HARRELSON: It was really White Men Can’t Jump [1992]. I guess I probably would’ve just been Woody Boyd but for the fact that Keanu Reeves didn’t play great basketball. [Wilson laughs] That was the only thing that saved me.

WILSON: How did you get cast in Natural Born Killers?

HARRELSON: Well, we thought it was kind of weird because when I was cast in Natural Born Killers, the only things Oliver Stone could have seen me in were Cheers and White Men Can’t Jump. Even Indecent Proposal [1993] hadn’t come out. So it was weird that he cast me, but he just said, “I see something in your eyes.” I was glad to work with Oliver because I always thought he was one of the great cinematic geniuses—I still do. And I was really glad to get to do that part, although, ironically, when the movie came out, I thought the big problem would be that people wouldn’t believe my character. But the big fallout actually came from the violence in the movie.

WILSON: That film got a lot of criticism.

HARRELSON: The media rained down negativity on it. At the time, I really thought that was unfair because I saw it as a misunderstood romantic comedy. But if you’ve got to explain that something’s a satire, then I guess it don’t really work. [laughs]

WILSON: I was going to say that I can only think that Oliver Stone must’ve seen something in your eyes that I’ve seen a few times, like when I’m trying to collect from you on a bet that you’ve lost. You do have a kind of crazy gear that you can click into.

HARRELSON: Yeah, you’ll be seeing that in a couple days, don’t worry.

WILSON: Which one of us would you say is the better sport when he loses?

HARRELSON: I think I’m probably a better sport. You tend to really just freak when you lose. You have a real hard time with it.

WILSON: But I think that’s because we’ve always been good friends and love the competition. It’s the same with my brothers. We can just sit there for eight hours throwing pebbles at a tree to see who can hit it the most times and be endlessly entertained by that. You grew up with brothers too. There’s something funny about growing up with a lot of male energy—and now you’re surrounded by four goddesses in this beautiful family that you have.

HARRELSON: It’s the way I like it now. I can’t imagine anything different.

WILSON: Having three daughters must be a change of pace from being around a bunch of guys.

HARRELSON: I don’t know—they’re pretty competitive. [laughs] Well, dude, I know you must have little stand-up paddling in your immediate future.

WILSON: Whoa! Don’t be rushing me off the phone here! I’ve got a page of 47 questions and we’ve covered three of them! We’ve got to keep going. Really, I can do this all day. [laughs] But I was actually having flashbacks to before we were even friends, when I set up a lunch with [film producer] Richard Sakai to pitch you on a script idea or something. I remember, after about, like, five minutes, I just kind of stopped talking, like, I kind of gave up on my idea. You say that you still remember it being one of the worst pitches you ever heard. [laughs]

HARRELSON: It was so funny because you wouldn’t even commit to finishing a sentence. It was like, “Well, I was just thinking, you know . . .  Maybe . . .  You know?”

WILSON: It was definitely the soft-felt approach. I don’t even remember what the idea was that we were pitching you, but I was not P.T. Barnum exactly. [both laugh] All right, buddy. I look forward to seeing you down the road in Maui.

HARRELSON: I’ll see you then, bro. Take care.

WILSON: You bet.

Owen Wilson is an actor and an Academy Award–nominated screenwriter.

#2009 #interview

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter one: from rhode island with love

*chapter one of book two of course

Zelda smelled of old books and soapy perfume, something which made Sam reminisce about her old life on the West Coast. She had taken her seat on the arm of the couch, right next to Marla, and she let the toes of her shoes hover about an inch above the floor. She held the drum sticks in either hand and she twirled the one in her right hand. She dropped it at one point and she stooped down to pick it up from the hard floor beneath her.

She twirled the stick again, that time with two fingers. She had long, slender fingers which held and twirled the stick like a series of serpents: Sam took a second look at her hand to find deep dark green nail polish on her fingernails that shone under the daylight from the window across the room. The men in the front room burst out laughing at something and she tossed the stick in the air. She caught it as if she had twirled a baton. Zelda turned her head to the two of them with a glimmer in her eyes.

“Are you in a band at all?” Marla asked her with a bit of excitement to her voice.

“I am, yeah!” Zelda declared. “The Cherry Suicides, we're called. We're a tiny li'l gang of girls who play loud, raucous, and kinda sexy hardcore punk. Straight outta Narragansett.”

Sam hesitated for a second.

“Rhode Island?”

“Correct a mundo.” Zelda showed her a smile, one where her cheekbones actually resembled to ripe cherries right off the tree. She crossed her slender, toned drummer's legs as Billy emerged from the hallway once again, that time with little white cups in either hand.

“This is courtesy of Eric and Steve,” he declared as he handed the cup in his left hand to Zelda. He handed the one in his right to Marla.

“I'll be right back for you,” he continued with a gesture to Sam, and he ducked back into the hallway.

“Our goal at the moment is go on tour with either Black Flag or the Ramones,” she continued as she tipped the cup back into her mouth. She knocked back whatever was in there in three large gulps. Marla cradled her cup in her lap. “How 'bout you ladies?”

“We're artists,” Sam told her.

“Like, actual artists?”

“Yeah.”

“She's waiting to hear back from the school people,” Marla explained with a gesture to Sam. “I'm already in school.”

“Oh, that's cool! Our lead singer and guitarist, Morgan and Minerva—they're sisters—they tried going to school a couple of years ago and Morgan said she hated it. Min survived the two years and said, 'fuck it, I'm a guitarist.' I thought of doing it when I got out of high school but at that point, I met Min and she invited me to jam with her and Morgan. We've gone through about three bassists already.”

“Why's that?” asked Sam, to which Zelda shrugged.

“Our first bass player, Di—she didn't want to commit, like she wasn't comfortable with going out and touring, which I don't understand because that's the whole point of being in a band, if you ask me. Our second, Victoria, she had bad chemistry with both me and Morgan, like she called Morgan controlling—which is complete bullshit. Morgan's been my friend since high school and she's anything but controlling. And she called me enabling, which is... fucking weird.”

Sam chuckled at Zelda's gratuitous swearing: the way in which she did it sounded so natural and fluid to her train of thought.

“And now our current bass player, Rosita, she's been doing real good with us.”

“So third time's a charm?” Sam followed along.

“Apparently so! And it's funny you say that, too—what'd you say your name was?” Zelda knitted her eyebrows together.

“Sam.”

“Sam! It's kinda funny you say that, 'cause we actually have a song titled 'Third Time's a Charm'. It's gonna be part of our demo tape.”

Billy returned to the room with two cups in either hand again, and that time he handed the one in his right hand to Sam.

“Thank you,” she said with a sweet smile.

“The speed metal paradox—the boys are inexperienced with girls and yet complete and total gentlemen,” Zelda remarked.

“What kinda metal?” Sam asked her as she took a small sip of the cold water.

“Speed. Quick, to the point, sharp, and yet kinda... melodious. At least, that's what I always hear it being called in the past—year or so, since we started comin' to New York City from Rhode Island.” Zelda turned towards Billy. “I assume that's what you guys are.”

“Stormtroopers?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugged in response as he brought the cup to his mouth.

“I guess? We're just Stormtroopers, if you ask me and Charlie.”

“Charlie says Anthrax are just... y'know, Anthrax,” Marla replied with a shrug herself.

“Labels are for cans of soup, not people,” Sam declared.

“Yes!” Billy said with a point to her. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“We just call ourselves punk because we like punk,” Zelda explained as she twirled the drum stick in her right hand again. “We like punk—we like the Ramones and the Sex Pistols, and I like to play fast like Charlie. But we don't really go anywhere beyond that, though, for the same reason.”

One of the guys from Legacy, a slightly hefty boy with a round face and a sheet of lush curls spread down his face, emerged in the doorway right then with his hand up by his chest.

“Bill's in a room full of girls,” he joked with a little nod of his head.

“At least we take care of him,” Marla retorted, which brought a laugh out of him. He rested his large hands on the sides of the door frame for a second, and then he lunged for them.

“I didn't introduce myself, by the way—I'm Steve.”

“Better known as Zetro,” Billy added as they each shook hands; “if anything, he actually goes just by that. Everyone knows him as Zetro.” His hand dwarfed Sam to the point it made her think of a bear paw.

“Why Zetro?” Marla asked him.

“It's been with me since I was a kid,” he explained. “Let's just say I've got a thing for cartoons.”

“Us, too,” Zelda replied with a gesture to Marla and Sam, even though the three of them had only known each other for a few minutes.

“By the way, we're handing out cups of water because we have a couple of dudes runnin' around here who aren't twenty one yet, Frank and—”

“Oi! Zetro!” Another of the boys from Legacy emerged from behind him. He had smooth straight inky black hair, part of which spread over the side of his forehead and hid his left eye a bit, and a round little boyish face with smooth, slightly angled dark eyes. Even though Sam didn't want to think that, he looked as though he could have walked right out of the Chinese neighborhood of San Francisco.

“Zetro,” he repeated as he flipped back his hair with a flick of his head.

“Yeees?” Zetro replied with a flick of his tongue.

“We're outta cups,” he said.

“How are we outta cups?” Billy asked him.

“I asked Jon and he was like 'we're fresh outta cups.'” He nodded to the three girls on the couch. “So—keep those in hand, ladies.”

Zetro gestured over to him with finger guns.

“Rhythm guitarist Eric Peterson,” he introduced him.

“I'm half Swedish, half Mexican,” he explained. “My dad came here from beautiful Sweden.”

“Oh, wow, I feel dumb right about now,” Sam blurted out.

“Why's that?”

“I thought you were Asian at first.” Eric burst out laughing at that and smacked his knee.

“I thought you were Asian!” Sam insisted. “I feel so dumb for that now.”

“Don't be,” he said with a sharp gasp so as to catch his breath. “If it makes you feel any better, you're not the first person to think that.”

Marla and Zelda glanced over at Sam with raised eyebrows and little smirks on their faces; the latter giggled a bit.

“Well,” was all she could muster out from her lips. He was kind to her to top it all off.

“By the way, when's your gig?” Eric asked Zelda.

“At five,” she replied with a toss of her drum stick.

“Are we all going together?” Billy folded his arms across his chest.

“Who, us an' you guys?” Eric gave his hair another toss back with a flick of his head.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I think we are.” Eric turned to Marla and Sam. “Would you girls come along? We're gonna see Zelda's band at this little bar down the block. We're all walkin'.”

“At least we're walking!” Marla exclaimed.

“Yeah, I don't really wanna get back into the car again,” Sam confessed. “I don't think Aurora does, either.”

“Just goin' right down the block here,” Zelda repeated Eric's words, and she dropped the stick on the floor again. “I'm gonna get ahead of you guys in a little bit 'cause I'm in the band, y'know.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Zetro, “it's imperative you've gotta. It's important. It's necessary. It's, it's, it's, it's, it's, it's, it's, it's, it's, it's, it's, it's—”

“Yes!” Zelda cut him off as she picked up the drum stick. She stood to her feet and followed Eric out of the room. Sam and Marla climbed to their feet but they stood there for a second. Billy ran his hands over the crown of his head and he turned to them with a thoughtful look on his face.

“A metal show last night and now a punk show today,” he stated, “I'm kinda jealous of you girls.”

“And Aurora's comin' along, too,” Zetro added as he followed Eric out of the room.

“The three of us and all you guys,” Sam stated, “when we were driving together over here, I swore it all felt like a dream.”

“It is kinda like a dream, isn't it?” Billy showed her a little grin. He led them out of the room to meet up with the huge group of guys, and they all walked together up the block to the little dark lit bar at the end of the block. Marla linked arms with Charlie and Sam and Aurora strode behind them right next to Frank; right in front of them, Zelda broke out in a run at the second cross walk.

Sam peered behind her to see Scott and Billy side by side, followed by the other two guys from Legacy. Meanwhile, behind them, bringing up the rear was the boy with the yarmulke. At some point, he had removed his yarmulke and he revealed that little plume of white at the right side of his head. She couldn't see it for very long but it shone under the afternoon sun like a little pearl. He ran his fingers through his otherwise jet black hair as she returned to a forward position.

It was implied he was the other one under twenty one, or so she assumed. He looked under twenty one with his boyish round face and slightly prominent little tummy at second glance back at him. When they stopped at the first crosswalk together, she glanced back at him again. Even with his little tummy, his waist was slender and almost delicate, and even with his blue jeans, she could tell his thighs were toned and slim. Aside from the little plume at the crown of his head, he was quite striking and even if he was closer to her, he could have stood out in that small crowd of people: he had a prominent aquiline nose and brow, sharp high cheekbones, and smooth sensual lips, and add to this, he was long and lanky; quite tall for a youngster.

“Sam!” Aurora exclaimed over the traffic.

“Huh?” She whirled around to find them crossing the street, and she clutched her purse even though she had slung it over the opposite shoulder.

“Hey, it's Joey,” Frank remarked as they came closer.

“You sure that's Joey and not Zelda?” Aurora asked him.

“Zelda's not that tall,” said Charlie.

“Well, Joey isn't, either,” she pointed out.

But indeed, it was Joey as his thick black curls entered their view. Zelda meanwhile emerged from the side of the bar with a bottle in her hand. The men meanwhile, each showed the man there at the door way their ID cards: Sam gazed on at the boy at the back, and she knew there was no way he could get in.

“I should tell you ladies,” she started in a low voice, “I can probably get you both in for no charges if you'd like.”

“How's that?” Marla asked her. Zelda turned to the man at the front door and pressed her hands to her hips.

“I'm with the band,” she proclaimed. “And these two chicas behind me are with me.”

“Lemme see some identification,” he commanded.

“Here's your identification—” Without hesitating for a second, Zelda lifted up her shirt part of the way up her stomach and he stopped right in his tracks.

“Okay, okay, but none of that in a little while, okay, sweet heart?”

“We'll be the judge of that,” she sneered at him as she dropped the hem of her shirt, “and don't call me sweet heart.”

“Wait, what about him?” Aurora gestured to the boy at the back.

“It's okay, Aurora—I'm with all those guys, too.” His voice was even striking, like it didn't match up with his body. He looked so odd and he sounded so powerful, like he knew what he was doing and his body just dripped with testosterone.

“If you're underage, you can come in at least until nine—that's when the kitchen closes.”

“Okay, good.” Aurora gestured for him to follow them into the tiny but bright lit bar. The wooden floor looked as though it had just been polished and all the dark tables and accompanying spindly chairs looked brand new; at the right side of the room stood a small, cramped but bright stage with Zelda's drum kit already set up. Sam took another drink from her cup when Zelda herself darted across the wooden floor from the bar on the left side of the room.

“Morgan!” she called over the chatter of the gathering crowd in there. “Morgan!”

Joey, Frank, and Charlie had ducked over to the bar, as did the boy with the stripe in his hair. However, Sam watched him at the far end and by the mere look on his face, she could tell he wasn't asking for a drink like the three of them behind her. Aurora huddled closer to her and adjusted her bra strap with a jerk of her arm. Marla joined them and she gazed on at the bar herself.

“How old is he, by the way?” Marla asked Aurora; Sam followed her gesture to the boy with the stripe in his hair.

“Who, him?”

“Yeah.”

“He's—” Aurora paused for a second. “—seventeen. I think? Seventeen or sixteen. I'm drawing a blank on his name, too—Eric told me all of their names, but I forgot to write it down because Jon was trying to talk to me at the same time.”

“You had all that paper with you, though,” Sam chuckled at that.

“That was all the legal, business nonsense,” Aurora pointed out. “The stuff you don't see that comes when you're handing in a demo tape or a recording of literally any kind and signing to a major label. The stuff that's like totally mind numbing, but—you know, somebody has to sift through it. Anyways, of the five of them, all I know is Eric and Zetro because they talked to me first and the two of them did all the talking no less.”

“I'm just—drawn to that little stripe in his hair,” Sam confessed with a gesture to her head.

“Yeah, it's—it's—” Aurora ran her tongue over her top row of teeth.

“It's odd,” Marla finished for her.

“It's odd and it's interesting, too,” Sam added. “Like, why does he have it? And right there of all places?”

“My grandmother from North Korea had something similar to that,” Aurora said, “like just a single part of her hair was gray and the rest of it was solid black, almost exactly like his. Except hers was—on the side of her head, like her temple, not over her forehead. It's a mutation, I think? According to my dad, she didn't have it show until she was like fifty years old, though, and that was when he fled the North and went to Seoul.” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and frowned. He just sat there at that little table with the yarmulke hanging out of his jeans pocket and the glass in hand: from across the room, Sam could tell it was club soda. He glanced about the room like the kid in the cafeteria whom no one wanted to sit with at lunch time. “Let's keep an eye on him—he looks lonely.”

“Yeah, maybe we should,” Marla added. “Poor guy's underage and he pretty much had to shout at the guy at the door just to get in.”

“I think Eric is underage, too?” Aurora recalled. “He told me their ages and he told me he doesn't turn twenty one until the middle of May. But he's almost like a high school student, though. He's a sixteen year old baby.”

“A sixteen year old baby who's already going gray,” Sam said in a soft voice.

“Exactly!”

He glanced to his left and he brought the glass up to his lips; Frank came over to him to talk to him about something and his eyes sparkled under the warm lighting of the bar. Sam thought about the man in her dreams, and she wondered about him. Zelda breezed past them with one of the bar backs.

“I told them I was going to get them into the club—” Sam couldn't hear the rest of it given she fell out of earshot. She watched Zelda weave her way through the crowd once more; she disappeared behind a large black speaker, and Sam caught the abrasive sound of a downtuned guitar in that direction. Several more patrons gathered around the stage and all around right in front of them: the three girls stood at the back of the crowd.

Every so often, Sam glanced over her shoulder at the boy at the far end of the bar. At least he was talking to Frank, who was underage himself. But he still looked so out of place there: out of place and alone.

Within time, Joey and Charlie joined them with drinks for themselves. Joey showed her a little grin and a raise of the brown bottle; he did the same for Aurora and Marla, too. Charlie meanwhile put his arm around Marla's shoulder and offered her a sip from his bottle.

“Quite the place to be, isn't it?” he asked her over the roar of the crowd.

“Absolutely!” she replied with a smile and an adjustment of her purse strap. He tipped the bottle into his lips and she thought about the night before. She was about to ask him what he had done upon leaving her place when that distorted guitar sliced through like a knife. Lead guitarist Minerva and lead singer Morgan were both little black girls with short bobs of black dread locks: Minerva had bright white dyed shocks that dotted her hair and a little red star tattooed on her shoulder. Morgan meanwhile had a big red ring on her right middle finger and long red and white striped acrylic fingernails, and she wore nothing but a black lace brassiere and a black leather mini skirt. Bassist Rosita had long black hair down to her waist and wore a black satin camisole over a pair of black leather jeans and matching black leather boots: before she took to the stage, she set a big floppy black hat atop her head and Sam could see a blue rose and a fiery red rose embedded at the brim.

The Cherry Suicides were loud and fast, and powerful, and yet they were straight to the point. Morgan had an abrasive voice that filled out the whole room: Sam was mesmerized by her and the way in which she ran her fingers through her dreads and down around her chest, and the way she closed her eyes at certain points. At one point, Rosita put one foot up and she showed off the inside of her thigh and the bell shape of her jeans. She had big narrow heels on her boots that resembled to knives. Zelda, meanwhile, was the only white girl up there and she barely moved her arms when she drummed.

Sam noticed a tattoo of cherries on stems on Morgan's right hip. Cherries on stems that looked to be bleeding. The Cherry Suicides.

She turned her head again and the boy with the little pearly stripe in his hair stood on the far side of the room with a little glass in his hand. He looked so out of place there in that club, given he was so young and the look on his face was one of confusion. Sam turned her head to Marla and Aurora, both of whom were in awe by the sight of them.

They began that song Zelda had talked about before, “Third Time's a Charm”, which was slower and a bit more heavy in comparison. Morgan crooned out about wanting to make her lover climax three times after he tried to use a knife, and that the third time was a charm.

Sam turned her head yet again, and for a fleeting moment, she pictured herself pressing her lips onto those smooth sensual ones. She shook her head at that thought.

No, she thought. No, no, no. Bad Sam. He's only sixteen!

He took a sip from his glass as Zetro and one of the guys from Legacy joined him so he was a little less lonely, or so she assumed. They huddled near the corner of the room like three boys in a strange place.

Third time's a charm after a dance with the knife. Third time's a charm after a dance right with your wet cock...

Joey, who stood on her left, took a swig from his bottle and flashed her a wink. She had no idea if he was tipsy yet, but he had already been loosened up from that single bottle. It was such an odd place to be right at that moment with the lyrics coming out of Morgan's cherry lips; Marla, Aurora, Charlie, and Joey on either side of her; and that boy with the plume in his hair, right on the other side of the room.

Zelda gave her right drum stick a twirl and she caught it between her thumb and her index finger as a final touch. Sam and Marla glanced at one another in awe as the crowd before them erupted into applause.

“They were badass!” Aurora declared.

“Loud and not giving a single fuck,” Charlie added, “that's pretty rock n' roll if you ask me.”

“By the way, you ladies want get something to eat?” Joey offered them. “I was talking to Kirk a little bit ago and he offered us to go and meet up with Metallica across the street.”

“So,” Charlie added, “again, we won't have to drive anywhere.”

“Big ol' party,” Marla remarked. Zelda emerged from the crowd in front of them with a glass in one hand and a soft blush in her face.

“Didn't even break out a sweat!” Sam said.

“Not even feelin' it, fellas,” Zelda boasted as she took a big drink from the glass.

“Wanna get sump'n to eat?” Joey offered her.

“Oh, definitely—I could use a bite to eat. I'll ask the girls, too.”

“From Rhode Island with love?” Sam asked her.

“From Rhode Island with love, kids,” Zelda echoed with a raise of her eyebrows and a raise of her glass towards them.

#fanfic #fanfiction #chapter 1 #chapter 17 #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #deadly nightshade #book two #anthrax #anthrax fanfic #legacy #joey belladonna #frank bello #charlie benante #billy milano #eric peterson #steve souza #also on ao3 #text

[winterromanov]

Maybe a college Bucky one where he’s being playing games out of town, and trying to study for exams and he’s just so tired but trying to keep going and reader makes him nap and relax and it’s just very Soft ☺️

pairing: bucky x reader (set in the same universe as this fic)

Trying to play football and also be a competent college student is an Incredibly Difficult Feat. You know this, because watching Bucky vault himself from away games to home games to mid terms to finals is about the most exhausting thing you’ve ever seen. If he’s not studying he’s at practice, and if he’s not playing he’s in an exam. It’s like watching a manic, sleep-deprived whirlwind, living almost entirely off coffee and takeout noodles.

He’s not taking care of himself. He’s pushing and pushing and pushing, trying not to let anybody down--as if he could ever do that.

“You don’t have anything to prove,” you say, as he crashes face-down on the bed in your dorm, the night before he leaves to play a game at Harvard and minutes after his Cold War history deadline. You’ve not seen him eat anything the last twenty-four hours. “Look--you won the last game. Steve said you could sit this one out.”

A vague mumbling comes from your bed. His face is smothered by the pillow and he’s too exhausted to even turn over, so you poke his ass with your foot. His hand reaches out, reflexes still ridiculously quick, pulling you onto the bed with him.

“Sorry, love,” you smirk, curling as close to him as your tiny mattress will allow. His arm pulls you close to his waist, palm splayed across your back. His heartbeat is unrelenting beneath his shirt, thudding between you. “Didn’t quite hear that one.”

His head shifts so you’re basically nose-to-nose, his grin sleepy and delirious. He’s gonna pass out any second. You’ve seen it many, many times before in the last hectic few weeks--you’re probably gonna see it a few more. “I’ll be fine after nap. Promise.”

“Don’t you dare fall asleep before I can force a pizza down you,” you warn, and he laughs, deliberately snuggling into the pillow and letting his eyes flicker closed. You can’t resist--running your hand through his hair, along his face. Kiss his forehead. “Goddamn it, Buck. You’re making it very difficult for me to look after you.”

“You being here is enough,” he says softly and before you have chance to reply he’s gone, lost in some dream. You slowly creep out of his embrace, making the pizza for him anyway. By the time you wake up the next day his body is a phantom shape in your bed but the pizza is gone--he’s left you a bright pink post-it note on the plate. Scribbled in his usual scrawl are the words thank you always favourite girl.

-

we won!!! harvard ain’t better than us at FOOTBALL

wish u could have been there

renaissance lit is being a bitch :(( well done you STAR. miss you more every moment so get back quick

should i hijack the bus and speed down the freeway

if you must

consider it done

love you

love you more than anything

-

The next game is thankfully a home one against Yale so you can at least keep an eye on him--you’re just protective, that’s all, not wanting him to burn out in front of you. There’s a lot of gym sessions and library cramming and a grand total of one dinner date at his apartment, where you made a pasta dish with as many vegetables as you could think of in as possible (his mom had sent you a message afterwards with immense gratitude because her son needed his greens, damn it). The following evening you’d wrapped yourself in one of his jerseys and sat in the bleachers alongside an injured Sam--injured and bitter about it--and waited in the lights and the noise for the game to begin.

“Bucky tells me you’re worried about him,” Sam interjects rather suddenly and when you blink back, he shrugs his non-injured shoulder nonchalantly. “Not that I blame you. That dude just doesn’t let up, does he?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shivering a little. The November air is cold, even wearing Bucky’s sweater. “He keeps telling me the season will be over before long, but I...I don’t want that to be a couple of weeks too much for him, you know?”

Sam hums thoughtfully. Around you, the crowd practically fizzes with excitement, covered with facepaint and aggressively chanting team songs at the opposing side. You’d never been to a college football game before you started dating one of the team’s star players, but you have to admit, the atmosphere is kinda addictive. Watching Bucky play is kinda addictive.

“If I know Bucky, and boy do I know him,” Sam eventually replies, squeezing up closer to you as more people gather into your stand. A girl is openly staring at you both--it doesn’t happen that often, but more so at games. People know Bucky, and Sam, so people know you. “He’ll get through this all okay. He always does, (Y/N). I’d been pretty damn surprised if he doesn’t make captain next year.”

You stare at the bright, clean grass of the field, and think of a boy so fucking exhausted from trying to balance his life that he can barely function half the time. Bucky would be an awesome captain. You just don’t want him to become a dead firework because of it.

-

The game ends up being pretty close but Yale just snatch the victory. It doesn’t mean that they can’t win the season, but. Bucky makes his way over to your stand at the end of the game like he always does, taking off his helmet and mouthguard. He also looks extremely deflated, like he always does when they lose.

“It’s okay,” you say, taking his face in your hands. He looks angry at himself. And you know what he’s thinking. I should have pushed harder. “Shit happens. You were still amazing.”

He kisses you over the barrier in a display of affection you were once too shy to give away in public, but you need him as much as he needs you. When you break apart you plant a chaste, gentle peck on his jawline, running your thumb over the shadow. 

“You two make me sick,” Sam interrupts the moment, arms folded. Bucky flips him off while smiling sweetly and you can’t help but laugh. “Honestly. Didn’t ask to be violated, but here we are.”

“Payback for every single time I’ve walked in on you doing unspeakable things with the girl from the top floor on our kitchen counter.” Bucky snaps back teasingly. You like watching the banter unfold between the two of them. You’d be worried if Bucky and Sam weren’t taking the piss at every given opportunity.

Sam gestures pointedly at his injured right shoulder. “I cannot believe you’d treat a fallen comrade like that. I’m disgusted.”

“And so was I when I saw the state of the kitchen counter.” Bucky gives you one last kiss, clutching your hand. “See you after I hit the showers, yeah?”

“I’ll be waiting.” Your promise him, and his eyes glow just a little brighter.

-

When Bucky facetimes you from Brown the very next week, he looks like he hasn’t slept for at least three days. His Ancient Chinese history exam is literally a day after he arrives back from the trip and he’s frantically cramming in his hotel room in Rhode Island, while also trying not to fuck up the team’s chances of winning the season.

“Just one more game after this,” his grainy voice says on the other end of the video feed, head lolling against the headboard of his Holiday Inn bed. You wish he was in your bed. God, you wish he was in your bed. “And the season is over and I don’t have to be away from you ever again.”

“I don’t think your mom would like it if I stole you away for Thanksgiving.” You joke, tongue poking between your teeth. His lips curve, half a laugh escaping from his chest.

“That’s why she personally invited you to stay with us for the holidays. She’s worried you might sneak in there first and drag me to Virginia. She already knows I’d go wherever you go.”

Your smile is kinda wistful. “Except when you go to Rhode Island.”

“Except when I go to Rhode Island.” He repeats, sighing dramatically. He rubs one of his tired eyes. “Ugh. Who thought coinciding pre-Thanksgiving exams and football season was a good idea, huh?”

“I have no idea, but I’m prepared to have words with them.” You tilt your head. “Don’t work too hard, yeah? It’s one exam. It’ll all be okay in the end.”

“I know, I know.”

You want to keep talking, on and on until the early hours like you do sometimes, because time is apparently not real when you and Bucky are on the phone together. But he needs sleep, and you need sleep, and occasionally you’ll do things for the greater good. “Good luck for tomorrow. Brown won’t know what’s hit ‘em.”

“They better not,” he jokes, “Will you be live-streaming the game?”

As if you wouldn’t. You can’t pretend that you always know what’s going on or any of the rules, but you always try to watch him if you can. He’d do the same for you, over and over and over. “Already got the tab open on my laptop and everything.”

Bucky’s grin is near effervescent, even through your patchy wifi connection. “I love you more than anything, you know that?”

“I may have had an inkling.”

-

hello y/n 

HELLLOOOOO

u know brown are the best losers because they lose and give you TEQUILA

omg are you drunk

never been DRUNK IN MY LIFE!!!! but im at this cool party and stEv e has found a girl and i miss u

i miss u so much . and like i just do generally 

whenever ur not ar oUnd 

oh sweet boy. you are very drunk.

im serious though

sometimes i think about how much i love you and it scares me

because then i th ink what it would be like if you wreent there 

and that makes me so fucking sad i cant breathe

y/n

y/n ???????????????

hellooo 

have u gone to bed

no, just messaging steve to make sure he gets you back safe. im not going anywhere. just please please look after yourself. love you always

-

“I’m sorry about those messages I sent you last night.”

You grab him in the tightest hug possible, his hold all still hanging off his arm, rain spattering down from dark clouds outside his apartment block. You hold him for at least ten years, you reckon, because the thought of him being so fucking sad he can’t breathe makes you so fucking sad you can’t breathe.

“You’re a terrible drunk who says things that make me emotional.” You laugh tearfully into his sweater and he grips you even harder, if possible. The shards of glass jabbed between your ribs start to dissolve as you inhale every single part of him.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “I know.”

-

His last game is the day of your renaissance literature exam and for once you’ve been the one not eating and relying on caffeine, anxiety lingering round your jittery bones like an irritating ghost. Your interactions with Bucky are a battle between you wishing him aggressive luck for what could be the winning game while he equally aggressively says your exam will go fine, they always go fine, it’s an easy A for sure. 

Your exam isn’t until the afternoon so you spend the morning pacing about your bedroom looking at a sporadic mess of post-it notes on your wall declaring quotes and context that you hope will just stick in your brain. When Lizzie from down the hall says there’s a package for you you don’t actually think much of it, too busy to deal with something you’ve probably forgotten you ordered from Amazon--but she makes some comment about how fancy it is, wrapped up in striped paper.

Your name is in print across the front so it doesn’t leave a clue on the sender, but as soon as you rip into it and find a bundle of things nestled between tissue paper, you know instantly. It’s kind of embarrassing you didn’t click sooner. 

Dear Y/N - you’ll ace it, favourite gal. 

You try not to break down in sleep-deprived and emotional tears as you pull out a brand new sweater in your favourite shade of burgundy, a vintage copy of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, three different kind of Hershey’s bars and a dumb little teddy bear wearing your college jersey. He’s sent you a fucking care package. He’s away at Princeton, and he’s sent you a care package, because exams drive you crazy and he’s just... Well, he’s Bucky.

-

i got your present

have i ever mentioned that i love you

i may have had an inkling

-

He doesn’t really leave you a choice, does he? Besides, the game is only at Princeton, and if you catch the train the moment you escape the uneasy warmth of a crowded exam hall you should be able to get there in time. 

You’ve never been to Princeton stadium before, but you grab one of the last tickets available and rush onto their crowded bleachers just before the game is about to begin. The lights are heady, the atmosphere is electric, and you’re about to watch the man you lovingly, completely, unrelentingly call your own play the game he loves almost as much as you at a stadium forty miles from home. 

hey steve, you text his closest friend, hoping he’ll see it, get buck to look at the front of the stairs near block d when you come out

y/n if this is what i think it means he’s going to lose his goddamn mind

:)

When the team runs out you notice the number five on his jersey straight away, a constant fleeting image in your head from the countless games you’ve seen him play. Even from a distance, Steve’s eyes catch your own and his arm starts gesturing violently in your direction, Bucky taking a couple of moments to catch on.

It’s a good job the game isn’t due to start for a few more minutes, because absolutely nothing can stop him from automatically sprinting to your side of the field and kissing you senseless, cameras and crowds be damned.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he says on a dizzy outtake of breath.

“Couldn’t miss the last game of the season, could I?” You gently push his chest, urging him to go back to his team. “And neither can you. Go back to them. I’ll be waiting.”

He steals your lips for one more second, giddy and pumped full of adrenaline. “I really lucked out the day I met you, didn’t I?”

His mouth is hot. Hot. Unmistakable. Real. Always, always real. “Not as lucky as me.”

my masterlist

send me a request

#big oof #ridiculously fluffy #soft bucky #college!bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe

[thesimonkshow]

My thoughts on Folklore

This is about to be a long ass Taylor Swift post, so strap in for the ride.

I along with many others were going about their business (looking at Adam Driver gifs) before my phone alerted me to the notification that Taylor Swift was releasing her eighth studio album Folklore the very next day. Chaos everywhere, my sleep schedule went out the window as I went into the Swifties tag to see how everyone else was dealing with this news. So I eagerly awaited 2PM (Australian time) for the album to drop and after a few listens (sleep got the better of me through my first listen due to my previous sleep schedule), I eventually picked out some album highlights.

The 1 - I love how freely she’s cussing on the album (a point that will be reitriated throughout), and I know Gossip tabloids and casuals will be shooketh because they’d think Taylor & Mr. Alwyn have ‘broken up’ due to Taylor’s personable lyrics but this gave me Better Man vibes. Remember when the Bridge said ‘You might have bern The One if you were a Better Man’ and this is basically that without the angsty fire.

Cardigan - I LOVE how Alternative Folk fits Taylor’s voice, it sounds like she’s telling us a story and we are entrapsed by her. It also works perfectly with the love triangle songs, which I had to understand a bit through a few listens.

The Last Great American Dynasty - The moment I saw this track, I knew it would be epic. I pictured her taking the piss out of the Trump family, but what I got was an awesome song about the woman who owned Taylor’s Rhode Island house and the antics she got up to. I love the descriptors she used when describing the weddings and the party’s Rebekah & Bill had and especially the bridge of antics Rebekah got up to later in her time. The ‘And then it was bought by me.’ Part of the bridge, I love a good twist!

Exile - OH MY LORD. When I saw Skinny Love Bon Iver on this album, I knew this would be something and low and behold it was. The concept of the man in exile in her intro caught my attention but seeing it up close and personal was amazing. The vocals interlaced with each other was perfection, especially as Taylor responds to Bon Iver. I really connected it to the struggles of Seth Rollins in the latter half of 2019, how he seemed to be exiled from the WWE, how his initial opponent Kevin Owens was having his flaws disregarded to drag Seth down, the ‘Always Keep Fighting’ shirt that he wore (raising money for mental health chairties) adding insult to injury for Seth, who had even briefly deactivated his twitter to clear his headspace following attacks/death threats from a fellow wrestler’s fan base. ‘I gave you every sign’ rings true here, the man was struggling and no one seemed to care.

My Tears Ricochet - My WWE ass was happy to see another Wrestler reference after The Man. So this was an interesting look, but I got another story that intrigued me, a man having been involved in a tumultous connection with the songs narrator showing up to her funeral to save face. Listeners drew parraells with the recent Masters drbarkle with Scott Borchetta, head of Big Machine Records with whom Taylor was once signed to, and I have to say it’s a good perspective to take.

Mirrorball - This one took a while but I ended up loving the fact she could sing from a Mirrorball’s perspective and still make an epic song. I loved the part about always fitting in with the crowd because at functions/discos where mirrorballs are used, the lights will change to fit the mood and being a reflective surface, Mirrorballs will reflect the colour change.

Seven - This was a nice ditty about a past friend Taylor once had. I really loved the line ‘Please picture me in the weeds before I learned Civility’ it gives a more sophisticated parraell to Never Grow Up.

August - This is the second in the love triangle songs, and I loved the storytelling aspect as Taylor paints the picture of an affair that Summer Nights would quake in it’s boots if it heard about it. She sweeps up the adience in the Mistresses POV, showcasing the sweetness of love and the sting of toxcisity.

This is me trying - Where are those who said Taylor Swift plays the victim in her songs? Because this is for them. Taylor states in this her regrets of wasted potential, broken relationships etc. at the end of the day no matter how many awards she has, records she breaks, or money she possesses, Taylor Alison Swift is a human being, and we should give her boundries to grow and flourish.

Illicit Affairs - This track title also intrigued me, and whilst it does what the title says, and discusses the highs and lows of the secret passions of mismatched lovers, the second verse & bridge stood out to me the most. The way Taylor’s voice went up on him in the line ‘Leave the perfume on the shelf that you picked out just for him.’ Drew my attention as she later did the same thing on the word high, this had to mean something. And given that we don’t know the narrators gender, this could also be a song about a closeted gay man who’s found love but is struggling to accept this relationship. Whereas the bridge reminded me a lot of the Adam & Hannah breakup in Season 4 of Girls in the episode Sit In where Hannah denounces Adam’s nickname of kid, which he had called her by since the first season, with the episode before that showing her heartbroken that Adam has gotten a new girlfriend behind her back and thus turns into a mess locked in her apartment for a day and two nights. it was a heartbreaking part of the show, one that shifted it into a new era for better or for worse, and the entirety of this reasonated with me.

Invisible String - Around this point was where melotonin kicked in for me on my first listen, so I’ve heard this less than the other songs, but I love how it discusses her relationship with Joe & how for better or for worse, he is hers. It continued the theme with them on Lover of not having a great picturesque love, but having ups and downs like any couple.

Mad Woman - The calmer sister of The Man, she won’t throw big production and actions around, she can take you down with words alone. The track stings brutally as Taylor takes down sexism as it exists in our world today, and even sadly paints a visual of how it must have been for women back in the day fighting for equal rights. ‘Does a scorpion sting when fighging back?’ Line was annother connection, as I was reminded of Vanessa Ives from Penny Dreadful and how the animal symbology that stuck with her was a scorpion, used to great effect in the Season 2 finale in a confrontation with Lucifer’s makeshift doll of her. The chorus line ‘And you’ll poke the bear till her claws come out, and you’ll find something to wrap your noose around’ stuck with me on my listens, and really shows how men will strike and then run away saying ‘it’s a joke, she’s hysterical’ etc. the part about women loving to hunt witches also reminded me of a Doctor Who episode called ‘The Witchers’ and also reminded some listeners of how Demi Lovato took Scooter Braun’s side in the Licencing debarkle, in fact in the first part of the bridge, the song also has a double meaning. It’s also about the state of affairs following Taylor’s songs being stolen from her. The part in the bridge about the wives knowing about their Spinster husbands having affairs and not wanting to show their anger for fear of being outcast like the titular woman is angsty but so lyrically genius.

Epiphany - I had to listen to this a couple of times but once I realised what it was about, I was in shock. This is about her Grandfather Dean who she mentioned in the intro who fought in a war. The song paints the war setting with the helmet, the flesh wound and the rifle within the first few words, and I especially loved the line ‘And some things we don’t speak of.’ because it talked about how some soldiers develop PTSD from their experiences, yet don’t want to discuss them for fear of being perceived as weak. Also the outro beat sounds like a radar scanning for a plane, and the beat of the drum sounds like bombs exploding, really adds to the War theme.

Betty - This is the final track in the love triangle story as it tells the story of James as he fights to earn back Betty’s love after he has an affair with Inez. The eventual pitfalls of Illicit Affairs have come for Inez which causes her to tell Betty of their affair, which is a nice link. This songs gives a classic Greese/Christine/Cheesy 80s Film meets Trixie Mattel vibe which I loved. I also loved the callbacks to August & Cardigan, along with the casual F bomb droppings.

Peace - This is another sweet love song for Joe which calls back to Cruel Summer, Cornelia Street & Dancing With Our Hands Tied as Taylor struggles with the connection she has established with Joe, and contemplates escaping, but eventually knows she’ll stay. How the entire world will be on them, but she’ll be by his side through it all. Similar to Invisible String but different all at once and a perfect penultimate track to lead to the last song.

Hoax - The sweetness brings us to the double edged sword of a closing track. Giving a shattering realisation that love can be tricky at times, the references to Call It What You Want ‘I am ash from your fire’, The Archer ‘You know the hero died so what’s the movie for?’ & ... So It Goes ‘You knew you won so what’s the point of keeping score’. Taylor loves Joe so much that when they fight it’s as painful as when she became Pop Culture Enemy #1 back in 2016. But no matter what, she says herself ‘Don’t want no other shade of blue but you. No other sadness in this world would do’ relationships are always painful, there is no happy endings all round, but there is still love to be found.

All in all this is an incredible album & @taylorswift you have created magic and I hope you know that myself & all the Swifties are so proud of you for flexing your writing skill and crafting such a stunning album.

#Taylor Swift #folklore #TS8 #Surprise Album #Taylurking #Bon Iver #Seth Rollins #Monday Night Messiah #WWE #Doctor Who #GirlsHBO

[mrsbhandari]

The Most Dangerous Weapon is a Charming Woman

Author’s Note: HELLO!! I figured that since its 12:04 and officially open heart day, I would make a lil something with ethan ramsey. I hope you enjoy!!

Words: 3553

Summary: Ethan has to go to a gala with Dalia, but they disagree about her dress color.

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk

————————

“Pink.”

“What?”

“It’s pink.”

“Yes.”

“But why is it pink?”

“Because I like it.”

“But I hate pink.”

“Well frankly, Dr. Ramsey, I don’t care.”

“But Naveen said we have to match.” At that, Dalia sent him a look. 

“That doesn’t sound like my problem. I’ve had this dress picked out for weeks and I’m wearing it whether we match or not,” she said, spinning on her heel and walking out of his office to indicate the end of their conversation. He sputtered but watched her leave, knowing there was no use in trying to change her mind. Shaking his head, he straightened some papers on his desk, an internal monologue running in his mind.

Pink? What would she even look like in pink? How am I going to match that? I have no pink ties and I’m not sure I have enough time to get one. What does the dress even look like? What kind of pink is it? God, I’m going to kill Naveen for this. Who is he to say that we have to match? Just because we’re going together doesn’t mean– Wait, are we going together? Alarm bells rang in his head. Does he want us to match since we’re representing the hospital? Pink isn’t my color. Am I overthinking this? I’m overthinking this. 

A knock on the open door to his office pulled his attention from the thoughts running through his head to his boss poking his head into the room. Ethan gestured for him to enter and tried to focus on him. 

“Naveen, what can I do for you?” 

“I’ve come to talk about the gala tonight, since you and Dr. Blaese are going together,” Naveen said, casting a knowing glance towards Ethan, whose eyebrows furrowed. “You’ll need to butter up some large donors, you know the drill. You’re a little bit…tense…though, so Dr. Blaese should help with that. Are you ready for it?” Ethan thought for a second before simply nodding and leaning back in his chair. Naveen gave a gentle smile and nodded with him before leaving the room, unaware of Ethan’s uncertainty for the night.  

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

A dinging from his phone on the nightstand next to his bed prompted a slight freak out as he glanced at himself in the mirror. The only person that actually gave him notifications was Dalia when she texted, so he quickly turned the device over to read what had been sent to him. 

Rookie: Almost there. See you soon. 

His heart beat faster in his chest. Almost here, she was almost here. This was the start to a night of mind-numbing pain caused by the boring talk of rich people with nothing better to do than spend money. Chatter of golf, food, and boating was definitely not something to look forward to, but he found himself excited to spend the night with Dalia, who brightened up a room with just a smile. She would undoubtedly pull in the big bucks tonight.

Realizing he had nothing to do but wait for her to get to his apartment, he exited from his messages app to go to Pictagram, ignoring the brief thought of its stupidity that crossed his mind. Dalia had signed him up for it, but she was the only one he followed. He mindlessly scrolled past the posts of random accounts and sipped some scotch he had poured before dressing. As he stopped on one picture, he almost choked on the alcohol. 

The picture was of Dalia leaning up against a brick wall, most likely outside her apartment. She was looking off to the side, emphasizing her slender neck as it stretched. The dress was pink, just like she said, and he started hating himself for saying he didn’t like it. It may not be his color, but by God, it was Dalia’s. The dress looked to be satin and hugged her curves, perfectly emphasizing what his fingertips ached to caress. Her shoulders were bare except for two thin straps, and her leg was revealed by a thigh-high slit in the fabric. His pants were tight and he found himself wishing he dressed up even slightly more to match his date. Date. His eyes widened at the term. Is she technically my date? He questioned, jumping when his doorbell buzzed. Jenner barked from the couch but shushed when he opened the door and saw Dalia in all of her beauty and the dress that almost killed him before he even left. She walked into the apartment without a word, used to coming over for late night studying and working on cases. Even if he did want to speak, he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to without closing his eyes.

“Hey, Jenner boy,” she cooed, keeping a distance as she pet him to make sure no hair got on her dress. “You ready, Ethan?” She turned to find him still gaping at her and raised her eyebrow. “What?” 

They had been having this for a while, this “will-they, won’t-they” between them that seemed to pop up really inopportune times: at the gym early in the morning as she stretches next to the treadmill in her sports bra and tight leggings; when her leg brushes against his at the diagnostics table; when she calls him late at night to talk about a case and adopts a breathy drawl to her words, influenced by her sleepiness. Dr. Dalia Blaese killed him in more ways than one on a daily basis, and controlling himself was getting more and more difficult every time he looked into her eyes. 

“You, uh….You look fantastic,” he stammered, internally cringing at how pathetic he must’ve sounded. She sent him a smile nonetheless and walked over to him, pressing close to his chest. His breath hitched as he breathed in her scent, intoxicated by it surrounding and clouding his senses. He noticed her hands were held behind her back and raised his own eyebrow, craning his neck to see what she was hiding from him. “What’s that?” 

She cocked her head and shrugged, which only pushed her chest out at him. He somehow managed to keep his head on his shoulders and cleared his throat, trying to summon a stern look to get her to talk. Finally, she sighed and took out a small clear box with a light pink flower inside, wrapped with a black ribbon. A boutonniere. 

“You don’t like pink, but you sounded upset about matching, so I got this for you,” she said, looking down at the box self-consciously. The tips of her ears were pinker than her dress and he found the sight endlessly adorable. He gently took the box from her hands and opened it, pausing to inhale the smell of the small rose before giving it to her so she could pin it on his lapel. He watched her intently while she pinned it, studying her concentrated face focused on not accidentally sticking him. After successfully figuring it out, she stepped back to admire her handiwork, gesturing for Ethan to turn around. He jokingly gave her a small twirl. 

“Happy?” he asked, hands on his hips. He blushed as her gaze raked over his body, stopping on his crotch where he was definitely still hard from seeing her. 

“Very.”

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

Ethan jolted awake due to Dalia’s hard elbow coming into contact with his ribs and he was pulled back into the conversation at the table about summer homes on the coast. Luckily, it didn’t seem like anyone noticed he had fallen asleep, but Dalia was staring daggers at him out of the corner of her eye. After feeling a slight touch on the inside of his knee, he knew that she was determined to keep him awake. 

Her voice was level as she spoke fondly of memories from her childhood on the beach with the older donor, Mr. Tierney, who seemed quite taken with Dalia. Her hand rubbed Ethan’s knee soothingly, luring him into a false sense of security before she meandered her touch higher on his thigh. His face flushed with the effort to keep a neutral expression despite the growing bulge in his pants, trying hard to not let Mr. Tierney know what was going on under their side of the table. She let out a loud laugh at the older man’s joke and took the opportunity to directly palm him over his pants. His breathing became shallow and he tried to focus with everything he had on the conversation at hand. 

“You’re a lovely couple, how long have you been together?” Mrs. Tierney, who was on her 3rd large glass of wine, asked, looking fondly between the younger doctors. Dalia offered her a sweet smile.

“We’re not together, actually! Although any woman would be lucky to have our famed Dr. Ramsey here,” she said, gripping him through the fabric covering him. The Tierneys laughed, oblivious to why the “famed Dr. Ramsey” seemed to be having such trouble breathing. 

“Hey, Dr. Blaese, right?” A young man walked up to the table and Dalia’s hand left Ethan’s lap. Despite the trouble she had caused, he found himself missing her touch. “I was wondering if you’d honor me with a dance? I’m Alexander McCallum, from Cal-Tech.” 

Ethan barely held a scoff in, but Dalia took Alexander’s hand and let him lead her to the dance floor. The sight of her perfect curves being subject to someone else’s touch made his blood boil as he watched them sway together, impossibly close. His hand was low on her back, fingertips brushing her bare skin with the low backed dress. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered something, prompting a giggle from her. He knew that laugh and the fact that it wasn’t him pulling it from her made his head foggy with envy. He endured another conversation with Mr. Tierney and his wife about boating in Rhode Island, casting glances toward the dance floor every few minutes to watch the quick process of Alexander’s hand drifting further and further down Dalia’s body until he was nearly completely brushing her ass. Ethan let out a loud sigh. 

“Lovely girl, hm?” Mrs. Tierney mused, finally picking up on Ethan’s attitude change the more he looked over at Dalia. Mr. Tierney got up to find more drinks for the table, leaving his wife with the doctor. Ethan meant to pay attention but it was so damn difficult when this random guy was groping his coworker and, he hated to admit, crush. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She’s been sending you glances whenever you aren’t looking, Dr. Ramsey. I think she likes you.” Ethan held in a laugh. 

You don’t know the half of it. “Maybe. Although it looks like Mr. Cal-Tech is definitely enjoying his dance with her,” he lamented, knuckles white with the grip on his fork. Mrs. Tierney laughed and Ethan’s head shot up to look at her in surprise. 

“Ugh, men. Always need a formal invitation, don’t you? If you want her, go and get her! Ask her for a dance!” she instructed, waving him off from the table. He gave another glance at the couple dancing.

“You and your husband don’t mind? I’m technically supposed to be trying to clean out your pockets right now.” He knew he shouldn’t have directly told her that, but she just smiled at him. 

“I control my husband’s finances and I think your hospital is deserving of a rather large donation as long as you get out on that dance floor and get that girl!” Ethan gave her a grin back and barely breathed out a thank you as he left the table to ask for a dance. When he got to the edge of the floor, he calmed himself and walked over to the couple. Luckily, the song had just ended, so he smoothly glided over. 

“May I steal her from you? She’s in high demand, and I’d like to have a chance,” he asked Alexander, giving a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Ethan challenged him, giving him a chance to fight back and cause a scene in front of the beautiful girl and rich donors of the gala. Alexander weighed the options and finally let go of Dalia’s hand, smiling graciously at her but glaring at Ethan as he walked away. 

“Couldn’t handle being away from me, Dr. Ramsey?” she teased, taking his hand and placing hers on his broad shoulder. She only came up to his chin, so she had to crane her neck to look up at him in their close proximity. “How were the Tierneys?”

“Fine, they’re planning on donating to the hospital, all thanks to you.”

“Thanks to me?”

“Well, the most dangerous weapon is a charming woman.”

“Isn’t it ‘wonderful woman,’ not charming?”

“‘Wonderful’ would’ve gone to your head.” He pulled her even closer to him, pressing their hips together so she could feel how hard he still was for her. Discreetly, he grinded against her, prompting a small moan to escape her lips. Hearing that nearly destroyed his self control, but after seeing Mr. Cal-Tech pouting on the edge of the dance floor and watching them, he decided that he wanted to have a little bit more fun with Dalia at the expense of the other man. 

He leaned down to whisper into her ear, making eye contact with Alexander, who was still glaring at him. “After this stupid party, I’m going to rip that dress off you.” He felt her heart beat faster against his chest. “We’re going to go to my apartment and I’m going to fuck you against the window so that the entire city can see who you belong to.” At this, his hand drifted down to grab her ass, fully in view of Alexander, who had escalated from mad to fuming. Dalia, none the wiser, moaned into his ear, spurring him on. “You’re going to be screaming my name because no one else is going to make you come as hard in your life as I am tonight.” The man on the edge of the floor crossed his arms, champagne flute in hand as he watched the display. 

“Dr. Ramsey, so naughty,” she said, pressing herself harder against him. He gripped her ass harder and nibbled on her earlobe, not caring about who saw. 

“Who does this ass belong to, rookie?”

“You, Dr. Ramsey.”

“Mm, that’s right. Are you wearing underwear?” he asked, voice low in her ear. She shook her head and he growled, growing impossibly harder in his pants. Dalia’s breath caught, so he guessed that she definitely felt his length pressing against her. “Mr. Cal-Tech doesn’t look too happy,” he taunted and she pulled her head back to look at him, amused fire behind her eyes. She swayed and spun them so that she could lift onto her toes and see her previous suitor, vexed and drinking champagne haughtily as he watched them together, obviously angry that it was Ethan groping her and not him. She muffled laughter against his suit jacket and looked back at Ethan, desire pooling between her legs and heating up in her stomach. 

“Wanna get out of here?” she asked, gently squeezing his arm in her hand. He nodded and escorted her off the dance floor, giving one last glance back at Alexander to see him chatting up another young doctor from Mass Kenmore.

----------------------------- 

Ethan barely closed the door to his apartment before Dalia’s fire was consuming him, heat surrounding him as she pressed him against the door and kissed him as if his lips contained the last breath she would ever take. He groaned into her, reaching out to touch any part of her that he could. His first contact was on her waist, but his hands quickly found themselves to her back, where he nearly broke her zipper trying to get the slinky fabric off. She grabbed his hands and backed away from him, sashaying her hips as she turned around and walked to his room. Like a puppy waiting for his treat, he followed, loosening his tie as he walked. He made a quick pit stop in the kitchen to take his boutonniere off, placing it gently on the kitchen counter before speed walking back to his room. He let loose a moan at the sight waiting for him. 

Dalia was laying on the bed in one of his ties and nothing else as she sent him a sultry look and beckoned him closer with a finger. Eagerly, he walked to her and grabbed a hold of the tie around her neck, tugging her up to him so they could meet in the middle for a heated kiss. He explored her with his tongue, aching to taste as much of her as he could. Before he realized that she was even off the bed, Ethan felt himself falling backwards, landing with a bounce on the bed to see Dalia standing over him, her beautiful body completely exposed to him. Her hands fell to his belt, looking up to ask him for silent permission. He gave a nod and she resumed undressing him until he was as naked as she was, their playing fields even. Unceremoniously, she straddled his thighs, closing him under her as she pressed bites and kisses from his neck down to the happy trail leading to his cock, erect and already leaking precum from the tip. 

“Mm, you look so perfect, Dr. Ramsey,” she said before wrapping her lips around him. A gasp left his lips at his name on her tongue and he shuddered, subconsciously thrusting into her mouth to feel more heat around his member. She moaned around him, sending another wave of pleasure down his spine and he curled his toes at the feeling. Moving her thumb and forefinger up and down the shaft, she gave kitten licks to the tip and his hands found their way into her hair, grasping at the locks as he felt his release barreling through him. He pulled her off of him with a loud pop to avoid coming too early, but the sight of spit dripping from her swollen lips onto his cock almost brought him over the edge. 

“I want to make good on my promise, Dalia. It’s what Mr. Cal-Tech would’ve wanted,” he joked, pulling her up to him to kiss her again. His hand found her core and he ran his finger between her folds, teasing her. She huffed against him and grabbed his wrist to plunge his digits into her, fucking herself with his hand. She gasped at the feeling and he moaned at the sight of her getting herself off, finding it to be one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. She nuzzled her face into his neck and tried to muffle her sounds, but he grabbed her hair and pulled her back. “I want to see you fall apart on my fingers, baby.”

“Fuck, ETHAN!” she moaned, clenching and spasming around him as she was sent over the edge by the feeling of his thick fingers stretching her and hitting the perfect spot inside her. He watched as her mouth fell open and her eyes rolled back, the vision of ecstasy in front of him as she rode out her orgasm. He groaned watching her until he couldn’t take the feeling of not being buried in her anymore. Grabbing her thighs, he lifted her off him and helped her to the floor before pulling her over to the window overlooking the city. Before she had time to appreciate the view, he bent her slightly and pressed her to the glass, widening her stance with his feet. He teased her slit with his tip but refused to enter her. 

“Beg for me, baby.”

“Oh, Ethan, please give me your cock. I want you to fill me up, please–OOH,” she moaned and screamed when he thrusted into her without warning. They both waited a beat to adjust to the feeling of each other before Dalia spoke: “Fuck me, Ethan.” Without another word, he pulled his dick almost entirely out of her before slamming his back in, prompting her to scream his name in pleasure. He pounded into her and the only sounds that filled the air were the slapping of flesh against flesh and their breathy moans as they both chased their orgasms. Ethan reached his hand around and found her clit easily, rubbing small circles as he continued to thrust into her, bringing her to climax for the second time. At the feeling of her walls clenching around him, he stumbled over the edge after her. 

“Fuck, Dalia,” he moaned, emptying himself into her. They both caught their breath, enjoying the view of the city laid beneath them out the window before he finally pulled out of her and helping her straighten up. He held her in his arms for a few more minutes, breathing in her shampoo and ignoring the sticky sheen of sweat covering them both. He pulled away from her, but kept holding onto her hand as he led her to the shower, ready to begin round 2. Before she got under the hot stream of water with him, she quirked an eyebrow. 

“Happy I went with pink?”

“Very.”

#open heart #n*sfw #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #fanfic #jealous #choices oh2 #oh2 #playchoices #oh #oph #oph2 #choices

[newstfionline]

Wednesday, March 24, 2021

Biden Team Prepares $3 Trillion in New Spending for the Economy (NYT) President Biden’s economic advisers are pulling together a sweeping $3 trillion package to boost the economy, reduce carbon emissions and narrow economic inequality, beginning with a giant infrastructure plan that may be financed in part through tax increases on corporations and the rich. The enormous scope of the proposal highlights the aggressive approach the Biden administration wants to take as it tries to harness the power of the federal government to make the economy more equitable, address climate change, and improve American manufacturing and high-technology industries in an escalating battle with China.

Hugs, at last: Nursing homes easing rules on visitors (AP) An 88-year-old woman in Ohio broke down in tears as her son hugged her for the first time in a year. Nursing home residents and staff in California sang “Over the Rainbow” as they resumed group activities and allowed visitors back in. A 5-year-old dove into the lap of her 94-year-old great-great-aunt for a long embrace in Rhode Island. Nursing homes, assisted living facilities and other kinds of elderly residences battered by COVID-19 are easing restrictions and opening their doors for the first time since the start of the pandemic, leading to joyous reunions around the country after a painful year of isolation, Zoom calls and greetings through windows. The vaccination drive, improved conditions inside nursing homes, and relaxed federal guidelines have paved the way for the reunions.

Miami’s South Beach confronts disastrous spring break (AP) Florida’s famed South Beach is desperately seeking a new image. With more than 1,000 arrests and nearly 100 gun seizures already during this year’s spring break season, officials are thinking it may finally be time to cleanse the hip neighborhood of its law-breaking, party-all-night vibe. The move comes after years of increasingly stringent measures—banning alcohol from beaches, canceling concerts and food festivals—have failed to stop the city from being overrun with out-of-control parties and anything-goes antics. This weekend alone, spring breakers and pandemic-weary tourists drawn by Florida’s loose virus-control rules gathered by the thousands along famed Ocean Drive, at times breaking into street fights, destroying restaurant property and causing several dangerous stampedes. The situation got so out of hand that Miami Beach Police brought in SWAT teams to disperse pepper bullets and called in law enforcement officers from at least four other agencies. Ultimately, the city decided to order an emergency 8 p.m. curfew that will likely extend well into April after the spring break season is over. Some tourists are angry about the curfew, which they say has put a damper on long-sought vacations for which they paid good money. Meanwhile, some officials say they should have enacted more stringent measures sooner—as was done in New Orleans prior to Mardi Gras last month—instead of reacting in the middle of the chaos.

England slaps 5,000 pound fine on most travel abroad (Reuters) Fines of 5,000 pounds ($6,900) will be introduced for people from England who try to travel abroad before the end of June in a tightening of the country’s border controls. Health minister Matt Hancock said the government’s original plan to review international travel in April and possibly permit it from May 17 still stood but the travel fines were included in legislation in case that would not be possible. In the UK, foreign holidays are currently banned. Europe’s airlines and travel sector are now bracing for a second lost summer. Having already racked up billions in debt to survive a year of travel restrictions, they are facing further strain and some may need fresh funds.

Tensions mount between Afghan government, powerful warlord (AP) Tensions are mounting between Afghanistan’s government and a powerful local warlord, with deadly clashes erupting in a rural province between his fighters and government troops. The government has launched an assault in central Maidan Wardak province, vowing to punish the warlord, Abdul Ghani Alipoor, after the defense minister accused his fighters of shooting down a military helicopter last week, killing nine personnel. Alipoor holds widespread loyalty among ethnic Hazaras, a mainly Shiite community who are a minority in Afghanistan but make up most of the population in Maidan Wardak. If Kabul considers warlords as agents of turmoil, their supporters see them as their only protection and support in the face of a notoriously corrupt government and violent insurgents. Many Hazaras, who face attacks by Sunni militants and discrimination by the government, see Alipoor as a hero, defending them against the Taliban and keeping local institutions running. “The government is incompetent, so people depend on Alipoor and support him,” said Mohammed Jan. “Alipoor serves his people. If our government would serve the people, everyone would support it and there wouldn’t be any need for an Alipoor.”

China Makes It A Crime To Question Military Casualties On The Internet (NPR) When China acknowledged this year that four of its soldiers had died fighting Indian forces on the two countries’ disputed mountain border eight months prior, the irreverent blogger Little Spicy Pen Ball had questions. “If the four [Chinese] soldiers died trying to rescue their fellow soldiers, then there must have been those who were not successfully rescued,” he wrote on Feb. 19 to his 2.5 million followers on Weibo, a Chinese social media site. “This means the fatalities could not have just been four.” The day after, Qiu Ziming, the 38-year-old former newspaper journalist behind the blog, was detained and criminally charged. If convicted, he faces a sentence of up to three years. “Little Spicy Pen Ball maliciously slandered and degraded the heroes defending our country and the border,” according to the annual work report published by the country’s chief prosecutor office this month. Qiu’s is the first case to be tried under a sweeping new criminal law that took effect March 1. The new law penalizes “infringing on the reputation and honor of revolutionary heroes.” At least six other people have been detained or charged with defaming “martyrs.” The government uses the terms “revolutionary heroes” and “martyrs” for anyone it memorializes for their sacrifice for the Communist Party. The detentions typify the stricter controls over online speech under Chinese leader Xi Jinping, which have deterred nearly all open dissent in the country. The new law even seeks to criminalize speech made outside China. Such is the case of Wang Jingyu, 19, who lives in the United States and is now a wanted man in his hometown of Chongqing, China. The authorities accuse him of slandering dead Chinese soldiers after Weibo reported him for a comment questioning the number of border fight casualties. “Cyberspace is not outside the law,” the Chongqing public security bureau said in an online notice after it declared Wang would be “pursued online” for his comments.

West sanctions China over Xinjiang abuses, Beijing hits back at EU (Reuters) The United States, the European Union, Britain and Canada imposed sanctions on Chinese officials on Monday for human rights abuses in Xinjiang, the first such coordinated Western action against Beijing under new U.S. President Joe Biden. Beijing hit back immediately with punitive measures against the EU that appeared broader, including European lawmakers, diplomats, institutes and families, and banning their businesses from trading with China. Western governments are seeking to hold Beijing accountable for mass detentions of Muslim Uighurs in northwestern China, where the United States says China is committing genocide. China denies all accusations of abuse.

Australian floods (AFP) Devastating flooding is ongoing across Australia, where an area the size of Alaska with some 10 million people is at risk for excessive rainfall and storminess. The flooding comes amid colliding weather systems gripping the country. Up to 35 inches of rain fell in just four days, and some places are seeing their worst flooding in 60 years. Nearly three times the average March rainfall has fallen in a number of locales, which Australia’s Bureau of Meteorology described as “phenomenal,” with additional rain and flooding expected in the days ahead.

Israel TV satirist says grateful to politicians but needs a break (AFP) As Israel heads into its fourth election in two years, the presenter of the country’s favourite satirical TV show has a request, and he’s only half joking. “I would like us to finally have a stable government and make a boring programme,” says Eyal Kitsis, frontman of the Channel 12 show “Eretz Nehederet” (“A Wonderful Country”). As much as Israel’s political turmoil may be straining the patience of the electorate, it has been television gold because “reality is crazy”, Kitsis told AFP. “Elections and politics have really become entertainment in this country. Our challenge as a satirical programme is to add a layer to it, to take it to the next level.”

Israel vote deadlock: Netanyahu appears short of majority (AP) Uncertainty hovered over the outcome of Israel’s parliamentary election Wednesday, with both Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and sworn political rivals determined to depose him apparently lacking a clear path to a governing coalition. Deadlock in the 120-seat parliament was a real possibility a day after the election, which had been dominated by Netanyahu’s polarizing leadership. With about 87.5% of the vote counted by Wednesday morning, Netanyahu’s Likud party and its ultra-Orthodox and far-right allies fell short of a 61-seat majority.

Saudi Arabia offers cease-fire plan to Yemen rebels (AP) Saudi Arabia on Monday offered a cease-fire proposal to Yemen’s Houthi rebels that includes reopening their country’s main airport, the kingdom’s latest attempt to halt years of fighting in a war that has sparked the world’s worst humanitarian crisis. The move comes after the rebels stepped up a campaign of drone and missile attacks on the kingdom’s oil sites, briefly shaking global energy prices amid the coronavirus pandemic. It also comes as Riyadh tries to rehabilitate its image with the U.S. under President Joe Biden. Saudi Arabia has drawn internationally criticism for airstrikes killing civilians and embargoes exacerbating hunger in a nation on the brink of famine. Whether the plan will take hold remains another question. A unilaterally declared Saudi cease-fire collapsed last year. Fighting rages around the crucial city of Marib and the Saudi-led coalition launched airstrikes as recently as Sunday targeting Yemen’s capital of Sanaa. A U.N. mission said another suspected airstrike hit a food-production company in the port city of Hodeida.

Rail and derailments (Vice) Freight rail is an essential vein of the transportation system in the U.S., moving 57 tons of goods per American each year. It’s also the safest way to move hazardous materials, but freight train derailments are more common than one might think: in 2019, there were 341 reported derailments on main line track, of which 24 were freight trains carrying 159 cars of hazardous materials. The labor unions in the rail industry have been calling this out as a symptom of a degrading safety culture, and warn that it’s only a matter of time before one of those derailments causes catastrophic damages.

#headlines #news

[notcanoncompliant]

Ain’t On the Surface

(WinterIron) I wrote this one a while back, please be kind lol

*************************

"You're leaving me for him?" Steve exclaims, anger quickly overtaking the hurt disbelief on his face.

James' jaw is so tight he's surprised his teeth aren't cracking. "No, Stevie." He pretends not to see Steve flinch at the nickname. "I'm leaving because you lied. You knew I murdered his parents, and you lied. You lied to me, you lied to Tony. There are other things, but, I just--" James hesitates, looks down, swallows. "You're not the guy I fell in love with, anymore."

He looks back up.

And that's it.

That's the end of the Great American Love Story, the legendary, 'star-spangled romance' that spanned almost ten decades. Through war, through incalculable violence and years of separation, after an impossible, insane reunion, and, fuck, an engagement--James winces internally--it's over.

He pulls off the ring and sets it down on the kitchen island between them. Steve makes a sound like the wind's been knocked out of him. His expression fits: shock, breathlessness, pain.

"It's over, Steve."

***

James isn't sure how long he's been hitting the reinforced bag; he'd lost track after the first hour.

Tony finds him.

"Hey, Armed and Dangerous, those bags don't grow on trees, you know."

James stops, halts the swing of the bag. He steels himself a moment, and then smirks over this shoulder.

"Yeah, well, a certain benefactor of mine has more money than God himself, and probably more brains than that; I'm sure he could find a way to make it happen."

It earns him a chuckle, and part of James preens in spite of his mood.

"Seems like a worthwhile endeavor," Tony says. He stops a couple feet from James and looks at him. His eyes are warm, but concerned; searching.

"You okay, Frosty?"

James gives him a tight smile, and turns back to the bag.

"I--uh. I ended things. With Steve." He chews his lip for a moment. Inhaling audibly, he turns back to face Tony, who looks dumbfounded. James shrugs one shoulder, sighs.

"It was coming a while. Just counting down to that last straw, you know?" He huffs a laugh.

"It never really occurred to me; us not being a unit. 'Til the end of the line', and all that." The ache radiates through James' chest, and he fights the urge to hug himself. He doesn't really want to bring Tony into this; it's not Tony's problem. It'd be easier to just push this aside for a little while and be superficial with the snarky genius.

He looks up, intending to crack some joke to steer them away from the storm that is James Barnes' personal life, but the words die on his tongue.

Tony looks...guilty.

Well, a mix of things, really: guilt is the most prominent, but there's disbelief and surprise, worry and....hope?

Before James can address any of what he's seeing, Tony's face shutters. His dark eyes go flat, tense, and his press-mask sympathetic smile doesn't reach them.

"Sorry, Buckaroo. That's rough stuff. I'd offer you a drink, but I don't have any of that Asgardian stuff laying around--I've got scotch. Wouldn't do much for you, but symbolically..."

James doesn't know what to say.

The billionaire keeps going. "Or vodka, if you're looking for a taste of the motherland--"

"Tony."

"--all I'm saying is we've got options, Barnes, options. They're limited to various kinds of liquor at the moment, but if you're looking for something in particular, I'm sure we could--"

"Stark."

Tony pulls up short, jaw clicking shut.

Bucky closes his eyes, suddenly tired. He wipes a hand down his sweat-tacky face, and looks to the side, over the other man's shoulder. Opens and closes his mouth wordlessly for a moment, and then:

"It was hard. But...you know something?"

He pauses. His skin feels too tight. Tony doesn't say anything.

"It wasn't as hard as it should have been."

The other man's silence is somehow both encouraging and nerve-wracking, and James can't quite work up the courage to look him in the face. He swallows, the click of his throat loud in the empty gymnasium.

"I feel like I should've been...devastated, broken, after...At just the thought of doing it," James says. "But I--I wasn't."

Suddenly, he needs Tony to know, needs to tell someone, that maybe Bucky Barnes didn't survive the fall from that train; not in the ways that count.

James inhales sharply, flexes his hands in and out of fists at his sides, builds it up...and then the wind goes out of his sails.

"It should've been harder," he finishes, lamely.

There's so much more he wants to say, but he doesn't think he could muster up the energy or the guts to pour it all out right now. He doesn't know if he could make it through the reveal, the truth of the matter.

Steve had wanted Bucky, that silver-tongued sniper, the childhood best friend and lover he'd known so well, and James had tried to give it to him. He really had. He'd stayed close, reminisced, fought and ate and slept by his side. The newness of the modern world had given him an excuse, something to blame for the growing distance and discomfort. But denial...denial's a weak veneer, and James has never been the type to hide.

(He'd laughed bitterly about it in private; the bullheadedness being the one thing he did feel comfortable attributing to the man he used to be.)

He is aching; not because he'd left the man he'd loved his entire life, but because of guilt--because he couldn't convince himself to stay. He's been beating himself to hell since the moment he looked up at Steve and felt...nothing.

"--ey, Barnes," Tony's voice cuts through the silence.

The soldier looks up at the other man.

The genius is projecting perfect ease, posture relaxed, both hands held up and open, his face just the same. His eyes are cautious, but the soldier can't really blame him for that. Not right now, when even James is a little worried he might fly apart.

Now that he's got his attention, Tony nods, licks his lips--the only sign of nerves.

"I didn't wanna do it without saying something," he says, "but I'm gonna put my hand on your shoulder, now; is that alright?"

After a pause, James nods shortly.

Then, as if in a dream, he watches his own hands reach forward to gather the smaller man to his chest.

To his intense (but foggy) satisfaction, there's only a moment of stiffness before Tony settles without protest. One of his arms slides up between James' shoulder blades while the other wraps tightly around the soldier's waist. He can feel Tony's breath against the side of his neck.

There's a hesitant, open energy between them, but neither man speaks.

James holds on for a while.

***

There are a few days of awkwardness after the embrace in the gym ("Um. Well," Tony'd coughed, "that's about all the Christmas spirit I think I can handle, Frosty," and he'd practically run from the room), but they fall back into their normal dynamic of easy, casual companionship fairly quickly.

James is incredibly grateful for the genius' quips and comments throughout leisure time and training alike, and the light conversation when Tony tinkers with the arm, because his other relationships are not rebounding nearly so well.

He only really has history with Sam and Natasha, and thankfully they're both of the mind to mind their own business, and interact with him per usual (Sam, slightly less so), but the others...the others radiate disapproval. They mostly just cold-shoulder him: avoid bringing him into conversations, find reasons to leave the room if he walks in. They're not giving him the stink-eye or anything, but they're not really going out of their way to be subtle, either.

At the opposite end of the spectrum are Tony's friends. Rhodes, and Spider Kid, and a few others that don't live at the compound. They're people who are unfailingly supportive of Tony, and the billionaire must have said something, because suddenly, they're supporting James, too. They draw him into their midst without him realizing.

On weekends Peter visits, James has a teenager-shaped satellite.

On the rare days Rhodes stops by the compound, the colonel goes out of his way to trade quips with James over coffee, ropes him into his and Tony's easy back-and-forth schoolyard ribbing.

The first time Ms. Potts greets him casually by his first name ("James," she says, smiling warmly and professionally), he has to resist the urge to look over his shoulder to check for the person she was actually addressing.

Hell, even Tony's driver, Happy, acknowledges him with a casual nod when they cross paths.

James definitely could've struck out on his own long ago; he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself (his solo stint after his last escape from HYDRA was evidence enough of that). Now, with these steadily forming relationships...He's grateful for the reasons to stay.

He finally feels like he's living James' life, not trying to carry on Bucky Barnes' legacy.

*

Through all of this, Steve is...there.

James can't be around him, around the broken looks Steve keeps sending his way. He doesn't want Steve to figure out that James isn't hurting for the same reason he is. He may not love the man, or see him the way he used to...but he's not soulless.

But after a few weeks, Steve starts trying to reach out.

Little things: popping up in the gym at the same time James is in there by himself, appearing in the rooms he happens to be in. James is beginning to suspect Steve might be asking FRIDAY about his whereabouts.

This has the opposite effect of what he knows Steve's going for. It pushes James to go where Steve can't.

*

The first time he shows up at the door to the workshop after everything, without an prosthetic-related issue, he's not sure he'll be welcome. He is, after all, another reason most of the team has chosen to attempt to alienate Tony further, and even if it's not something he's doing himself, he's still kind of the root of another one of Tony's problems.

His concern (fear) is laid to rest as soon as he touches the indicated scanner and the door slides open with zero pause. He steps into the room, stares around in awe for a moment (he'll never get used to the future he sees in this room), and then his eyes fall on the man at the main work station, and his heart kicks in his chest.

Tony looks...really good. Great. He's digging around in one of the suits in nothing but a tight white tank top and old worn jeans, streaks of grease scattered over his exposed skin, a light sheen all over from the exertion involved in the physical labor of machine repair.

When Tony turns to reach for something, it puts James in his line of sight, and after a flare of surprise, he smiles with open warmth.

Fine, Tony doesn't look good. He looks loveable. And fuckable.

The genius calls up to FRIDAY to turn down the music and strides towards James.

"Hey, Tasty Freeze, what's up? This a visit or a hideout?"

He says it so cavalier, like he isn't being put through the ringer by the things James has done, and it makes James want to hug him again.

"Why can't it be both?"

"Touche. I'm at a good stopping point anyway--by that I mean FRIDAY and Pep are both demanding I take a break--so how about you give me another reason to stop for a while?"

It's innocent, definitely just the inventor offering to eat some lunch or just sit and shoot the shit, but a light flush that has nothing to do with work blooms across Tony's cheeks.

James' sharp eyes track the physical manifestations of this man's desire for him, the signs Tony always tries to keep hidden: the flush, the dilation of his pupils, the almost jitters, the aborted reaching motions and the way his eyes cling to different parts of James' anatomy when he thinks the soldier won't notice.

He notices. He's always noticed. But he's never pushed or mentioned any of it.

Now, he stalks forward into Tony's space, confident, but carefully monitoring the man's reactions in case the advance is unwelcome.

Tony's eyes go wide, but he doesn't step back.

God, he's adorable. He lights a fire in James that hasn't been lit since before HYDRA, since before all of the bullshit with the return of the 'Rogues'. Through all of his internal conflict, through all of his uncertainty about his place in this new order that's been established here at the compound, he's never really doubted Tony's support. It's why he'd opened up so easily after everything, and why he's here now, staring down at the smaller man, the smaller man who is actually so much bigger than all of the people who try or have tried to crush him down.

"I can give you plenty of reasons," James says, smirking as he pulls the genius into a kiss.

*******************

Everything Tag List: @the-amazing-spidertwink, @starkercrossedlovers, @silkystark, @hoeforthegays

(I hope y’all don’t mind I’m tagging you on this not-Starker nonsense)

#winteriron #starkerflowers fic #tony stark x bucky barnes #tony x bucky

[johannstutt413]

Liskarm knocked on the Doctor’s already-closed office door. “Doctor, are you in? I’m on shift today.”

“Oh, Liskarm! You’re here early.” The Doctor came to answer the door, noticeably disheveled. “Usually my assistant doesn’t come in for another hour.”

“Hmm. I wanted to set up my desk for the day’s work, but it looks like there’s something else I can do before that. Do you have a brush?”

She nodded and walked back to her desk. “I do. Your hair looks fine, though.”

“It’s yours I’m worried about, Doctor,” Liskarm lightly scolded. “You look like you haven’t slept.”

“Oh, I haven’t.”

She stared. “Doctor-”

“It’s fine, Liskarm, I promise; I have snacks so I can sleep through lunch, and I’ve got plenty of coffee for the day.”

“We’ll see.” Blacksteel’s thunder lizard shook her head as the Doctor handed her a brush. “For now, let’s focus on what we can fix. You can sit down at your desk for this.”

She adjusted her chair so Liskarm could simply stand behind her to brush her hair. Come to think of it, had she let anyone here at Rhodes Island touch her hair other than the salon personnel?... “Your Arts are electricity-based, so how do you fix your hair without it getting all staticy?”

“I don’t; it’s either too short to do much with it, or I tie it back and accept it. Your hair’s too long to help noticing when it’s off. A lot like Franka’s, actually.”

“Can I ask you something about the two of you?” When she didn’t object, the Doctor continued. “When I see the two of you together, it’s like you’re an old married couple. Is there a reason for that?”

Liskarm sighed. “Opposite personalities working together too long. Blacksteel paired us together because of our fighting styles, so we never had a choice in the matter. Here at Rhodes Island, we get more time to ourselves, and there are other Operators who work well with us. Honestly, Doctor? As much as BSW has done for me, I wonder if I’d be better off here...Maybe when I start my own firm, I can make an arrangement here like they did.”

“You want to start your own firm? That’s pretty cool. Is that just a career goal, or…?”

“Hmm...” She thought for a moment about how much she wanted to share. “How much do you know about the Vouivre, Doctor?”

Next to nothing. “I know Saria is one as well, and there’s an Alliance, but that’s about it.”

“I’m from a village that Alliance controls, and it’s in a dangerous place; to keep it safe, they hired a personal security firm, and while they do fine enough, they aren’t locals, so if we run out of money, that’s the end of it. I want to set up my own company to keep the town I grew up in, and the people in it, from ever having to worry about losing their protection. Your hair’s fixed.”

“And without pulling a single tangle...” The Doctor ran her hand through it. “Thanks, Liskarm. You know, as reliable as you are, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble getting your own firm.”

The Vouivre tapped her shoulder. “Is there a lint brush I can clean you off with?”

“Yeah, here. Why haven’t you started it yet? Is it the money, or training, or...”

“All of the above,” Liskarm replied. “I also need to prove myself, still...most people don’t expect much from me at first.”

She grabbed her hand as soon as the lint roller came down on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m a short Vouivre, Doctor. Getting into the field itself was an uphill battle; having a strong enough record to convince strangers that I’m someone they can look to as a leader will take more time, and BSW and RI are where I’m building that...I can’t clean off the lint while you’re holding my wrist, Doctor.”

“I know.” The Doctor let go, blushing to herself. “Thank you for fixing me up.”

Liskarm smiled. “It’s not fixing, Doctor, just tidying up. And...there. I’ll be at the other desk if you need me. The security team asked me to look over some procedures, but don’t let that stop you if something comes up.”

“Okay.” Somehow, that didn’t feel like it’d be an issue…

The shift went by as the Doctor had said; she snacked throughout the day, slept for a few hours around lunchtime, and powered through the rest with a little caffeine and a little of something...else. She didn’t have a concrete explanation, but if the Doctor had to guess, it was because she wanted to impress Liskarm. Compared to her, she had it easy - everyone knew she was capable and trusted her to do what she needed to, but her assistant didn’t have any of that to fall back on, just hard work and dedication. Hell, the Doctor wondered what she herself was dedicated to - the job, the people, the satisfaction of a job well done?

While those thoughts haunted her as she went to bed that night, she still slept like a child...until, that is, there was a knock on her door.

“Who would want to talk to me this late at night,” she grumbled to herself. “Did something happ- Liskarm?”

“I was worried you wouldn’t sleep well, but I guess that isn’t an issue. Well, I’m clearly disturbing you, so-”

The Doctor decided to take a chance. “You don’t have to go.”

“...” Liskarm didn’t move. “You want me to stay?”

“I know it’s weird, but um...” She couldn’t really come up with an excuse to keep her there, but she was realizing it wasn’t impressing the Vouivre she’d been worried about.

Her visitor shook her head. “Doctor, you really do need to get some sleep. You can’t even finish a thought.”

“That’s not because I’m tired,” she insisted, “I just...I really want to sleep with you.”

“You what.”

That woke her up “I-I mean I...No, no, that’s what I meant.”

“I’ve never...” Liskarm was now firmly rooted in place. “Are you teasing me, or-”

“No, I just...I don’t know anymore. If you want to tell HR about this, I won’t stop you.”

Still not going anywhere. “You’re serious.”

“I wouldn’t joke about something like that,” the Doctor sighed, face in her hands to try and hide her embarrassment. “Today was the first time we’ve spent together outside of strategy meetings or whatever, but you were so open and honest earlier, and you were so gentle with my hair, I...ugh, I’m such a terrible person.”

“What’s terrible about you, Doctor?” Liskarm took a step forward.

Unaware of this change, she replied, “I just feel so selfish right now. You’re just trying to do your job, making sure I’m okay, and here I am trying to take advantage of your dedication and trust and naivet-”

“I don’t think that’s what I asked.” She was now practically in the threshold herself; she set a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder. “Why would that make you a terrible person?”

“Because I was trying to manipulate you into staying the night so I could...I don’t know what I was planning, actually, but it couldn’t have been good.”

Liskarm moved the Doctor’s hands away from her face, the difference in their heights making it so that doing so left them looking each other directly in the eye. “If I said no at any point, would you have stopped?”

“Of course...I’m desperate, but not that desperate.” She shuddered. “The idea-”

“I told you I’d be there for you if something came up, didn’t I?”

The Doctor averted her eyes. “You did, but I don’t think you meant...you know.”

“I don’t if you don’t tell me,” she replied. “Doctor, please look at me.”

“Okay, but-”

When she did, Liskarm pulled her into a hug, still looking her in the eye. “If you’ll sleep better in my arms, I’d be more than happy to hold you close to me.”

“Oh my.” The Doctor hadn’t imagined this being the outcome for her slip-up. “And if...and if I wanted something more?”

“Then I can give you more.” She spoke at a whisper before craning her neck forward for the kiss she’d seen in her mind’s eye since that first hesitation. As with everything else in her life, romance was also best kept by-the-book, but she’d never found a man who made her want to open that chapter before.

But from the moment the Doctor’s eyes wandered when she opened the door, Liskarm was certain it was either now or never, and ‘never’ was a not a word she’d ever give heed to again.

#arknights #liskarm (arknights) #there are still some characters who haven't shown up yet #here's one of them #arknights fic

[random-imagines-blog]

On It {James Ransone x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: @h-a-j-i-m-e-ru​ Wordcount: 2048 Summary: An unexpected storm puts a halt to your roadtrip with James.

Since everyone was saying that It Chapter 2 was going to be a huge success, James had suggested that the two of you go on the trip that you’ve been talking about since your school days together. It had been something that you started to plan after learning more about the country in Geography class, and saw things in your textbooks such as the Grand Canyon, The Statue of Liberty, Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Now was the perfect time to do it. With the movie finished filming, reshoots already completed, he had the time before he would have to do the press junkets, and before his face would be as out there for the world to see. The last thing either of you needed was people interrupting your road trip around America, begging for selfies and autographs. He loved the attention that he got when his work was recognized, of course, but this was more about making memories with you, his favorite person in the world, than advertising his career.

“Is that rain?” You asked, on the third day of the adventure.

“Worried about a little bit of water?” James joked, though the skies ahead were starting to look ominous. You both were just now leaving New York City, having started off there by seeing the Lady Liberty herself, and taking in Times Square where James was able to remain anonymous. He let out a deep breath as you gave him a glare, and focused on making the correct turn to get to Connecticut. “Because we’re going to be there in just a couple of hours, and that’s if traffic is bad.”

You were tapping on your phone, looking at upcoming weather forecasts and winced at what you were seeing. James kept glancing over at you, growing worried since you weren’t saying anything in response. Nothing was coming out of your mouth except for little winces and then a groan, so he just turned up the radio which was playing an obnoxious pop song.

You finally turned it down after the commericals started. “James, I think we should stay in Connecticut instead of continuing onto Rhode Island today. What the weather apps are telling me is honestly pretty frightening. I’ve been searching up hotels too, and I found us a deal on a room in a bed and breakfast, is that okay?” As he was doing the majority of the driving on this trip, even though you had offered to do your fair share, you wanted to make sure this was alright with him before going ahead and booking it.

“Now that’s another day to add onto this trip,” James grumbled, but he instantly regretted it when he saw the look on your face. “Which is wonderful?” He added, but your look of disappointment didn’t change. “Sorry, you just know how I like to stick to my schedules.”

“You want to drive through a storm, that’s fine with me. For some reason, I thought being courteous here was the right thing to do,” You huffed, folding your arms in front of you. It was clear that being in the same car as James for so long was beginning to irritate you, and even more so was the fact that he didn’t seem to be bothered much at all.

During the drive though, the rain started to fall. It was in big fat drops at first, and you looked at James with an ‘I told you so’ expression. But James gave you the same smug look and pointed in the backseat of his car where, along with some trash from fast food places, souvenirs and your suitcases, there was an umbrella for the two of you to use while you looked around the city. You rolled your eyes and brought your phone out again, deciding at the very least you were going to book the bed and breakfast for you, since you weren’t crazy enough to go through a storm, even if you weren’t the one driving.

And, of course, the rain didn’t let up as you crossed state lines. “You’d better drop the bravado act, this is getting bad, James.” The fact that as soon as you said that, thunder rumbled throughout the sky and the rain started to fall harder and harder until it was getting tough to see, helped your cause. You weren’t setting out to piss off James, you just wanted the both of you to be safe, even if that meant going off schedule a little bit.

When you reached the city of Hartwood Connecticut, James finally gave in and asked you the directions to the bed and breakfast. “Y/N, you win, we’ll stay the night.” He sighed, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he tried to make out the street signs. You read off the directions, refraining from saying anything that might bother him further. The trip into the city became more about safe driving than sightseeing. You managed to steer James in the right direction and the car pulled up to an old house, three stories high, that would look cheerful on a sunny day but looked drab in the gray.

You started to shuffle through your stuff in the back seat, looking for your overnight bag that you used the day before. Over your shoulder, you noticed that James had turned off the car and was preparing to run out. “Don’t forget the umbrella,” You said, grabbing it and handed it over. Once he had it, he was out of the car and into the rain, circling around the car instead of running straight up to the door like you had half-expected.

“It’s freezing!” James announced as he opened your door for you, shivering beneath the umbrella.

“Oh James, let’s hurry then. Here, take this.” He took his bag from your arms and awkwardly held it and the umbrella and tried to keep it over you as you got out with your own bag. You noticed that he hadn’t pulled the umbrella out quick enough when he stepped out of the car, and the top of his head was damp from the rain. You wanted to stop for a second and admire how adorable he looked with his short hair plastered to his forehead, but he was right - the weather put a chill up your spine.

As luck would have it, it was a slow season for the Bed and Breakfast, and they had your room available immediately. Essentially, you would have to be out very early in the morning, but that wasn’t a problem with how tight James wanted to stick to the schedule. He smiled at you as he was handed the room key, grateful for your insistence. You knew that he wasn’t the type to say anything such as how wrong he was and how right you were, but you could see it in his eyes that he felt that way.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He chuckled as you both went up the stairs to the third floor where your room was. Smiling, you pretended that you had no idea what he was talking about.

The room looked as cozy as a picture, with floral bedding, home-made looking furniture, prints of artwork that could probably be seen in every bed and breakfast around the world as if they had a store just for that, and a small TV mounted on the dresser. James put his damp bag on the circular rug that went part-way under the bed and headed to the window to look out at the car. When you came up behind him, you could smell the rain on his clothes, despite the fact that he had barely been caught in it. You put your arms around him from behind and pressed your head to the space between his shoulderblades.  

“Once we unpack a bit, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” You told him, nuzzling him gently.

“First thing in the morning, we’re out of here,” He said, offering that as a compromise to staying here for the night rather than the original hotel in the next city. You nodded and let go of him and took a couple of steps back.

“You’re right, we should go early,” You sighed, not looking forward to waking up at the crack of dawn. His smile was reflected in the windowpane so you could see it. James had a lovely smile, and you felt that you didn’t see it often enough. “So I’m going to go and take a shower now, rather than wait for later. Do you want to join?” You asked the last question with a cheeky wink as he turned around.

“How? If the bed is this tiny, I can’t imagine what the shared bathrooms are like.” He said, making you laugh. You shrugged at his question, rummaging through your bag for your pajamas since it seemed like you two would just be staying in for the rest of the day.

“I guess I’m just going to have to find out.” James gave a nod, and sat on the end of the bed, picking up the remote and turned on the small TV. The door closed behind you, but he didn’t get up to turn the lock. He just fell back onto the bed, his head landing on the pillow. Because of the force, he supposed, a couple of feathers came loose from the inside of the case and tickled at his ear. You usually enjoyed nice long showers, so he knew not to expect you back too soon. For a little while, he played with the feather, and thought about this road trip that you two had been having.

Honestly, he had been excited about it since you brought up the prospect when the both of you were younger, before his acting career, before you got busy with yours. He thought about it when he got his driver’s license in the hope that he would be driving the two of you around sooner rather than later. As he picked up the feather and let it free fall once more, he frowned, thinking about how he had acted earlier to you. You didn’t deserve it - you didn’t control the weather.

He snapped up into a sitting position and looked around to try to find something to woo you with. The TV was playing an old episode of Happy Days, and that was extremely far from romantic. There were no flowers, no little chocolates, not even a coffee pot in the room, it was as simple as he could imagine. Something Eddie might live in, though his room would have medication bottles on every surface, he thought. As he thought this, he smiled, thinking that he had been really lucky to land the role, and it had been thanks to you. You were the Stephen King fan, you had goaded him into reading the book, which made him want to try out for the role. You really were the biggest part of his life.

James wasn’t able to find anything that he could use to woo you, so he laid back on the bed, once again playing with the feather until you came back into the room, hair damp against your head, skin slightly red-tone from the warm water. As he watched you come in, he sat up slowly, the feather sticking to the side of his head without his realization. So when you looked back at him, you had to stifle your laughter, sticking to a grin instead.

“Do you forgive me for being a grumpy jackass?” He asked, a nervous smile playing at the corner of his lips. You, wearing your cutest pair of pajamas, climbed onto the bed beside him, and blew the feather out of his hair. It flew up, but then landed right down on his lap, as if it didn’t want to leave him, which was pretty amusing.

“I guess so, chicken boy,” You giggled, picking up the feather and tickled his chin with it.

#James Ransone #James Ransone x reader #James Ransone oneshot #celebrity #celebrity oneshots #celebrities #celebrities oneshots #oneshot #oneshots #requested #jamesr