#I need to figure out what shark I specifically would want Sam to be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ailtrahq · 6 months

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“People want an authority to tell them how to value things, but they choose this authority not based on facts or results –– they choose it because it seems authoritative or familiar.” -Michael Lewis, The Big Short.Renowned author Michael Lewis published his book, Going Infinite: The Rise and Fall of a New Tycoon, on the rise and fall of FTX on the first day of the trial of its notorious founder Sam Bankman-Fried (Bankman-Fried). The book has met with heavy criticism by commentators for its seemingly favorable portrayal of the millennial crypto founder. It’s funny because at its core, the story of Bankman-Fried is a very old-school, Big Short-esque tale of a privileged actor who leveraged, for his own gain, our society’s predilection to make value judgements on people not due to their track record –– or as Lewis put it, “facts” –– but rather based off of a set of heuristics and approval from “sophisticated” people. Bankman-Fried’s ability to convince those we trust to be the “smart people” of our society –– including Lewis –– is uncanny. But why did they fall for him? Perhaps, it is because Bankman-Fried was someone they understood. He was an insider, who –– like them –– saw crypto as a community they could capitalize on, rather than an an ecosystem to nourish. Crypto ColonialismFortune Magazine in their profile of Bankman-Fried, wrote that the Bay Area native doesn’t look like the most powerful man in crypto. But is that really true?If anything, a 20-something year-old man oozing social awkwardness, an MIT degree, and poor fashion-sense is the wet dream of many a modern “sophisticated” tech investor. Bankman-Fried could easily be a character on the HBO show Silicon Valley.Now compound that with his birthright –– two parents who are law professors at a modern basilica of commerce –– Stanford University, and you have almost messianic figure of modern capitalism. One need not look further than the praise given to him by Kevin O’Leary, saying “I'm a big advocate for Sam because he has two parents that are compliance lawyers." the Shark Tank investor said in 2022. O’Leary continued: “If there's ever a place I could be that I'm not going to get in trouble, it's going to be at FTX.” We later found out that the Canadian investor was paid close to a million dollars an hour to be a public spokesperson for Bankman-Fried.But beyond Bankman-Fried’s bona fides, the real selling point that captured investor attention was Bankman-Fried’s mission. Not “effective altruism” –– subscribing to trendy, faux empathic movements is certainly a good marketing move for elite financiers. But, what really excited his investors was his belief that crypto wasn’t a serious industry worthy of building up, but rather a great opportunity to grab a bag load of money from gamblers.As a Sequoia Capital’s venture capitalist put it in a now deleted profile on Bankman-Fried, “Yes, crypto eventually could replace money, and, yes, it can eventually decentralize the web,” the investor said. He continued: “But all those things are not true today. And, so, what is the thing that people do today? They trade. And if people trade, and people like trading, what is the business model that will make tons of money? It would be an exchange.”This quote shows that the investors of Bankman-Fried didn’t view the crypto community as serious. To them, crypto itself has the same societal significance to getting three sets of cherries in a row on a slot machine in a Vegas casino. Better to invest in the casino rather than the photos of cherries.Agree or disagree with them, the crypto, and specifically the bitcoin subsection, of the community is serious with their goals. They are largely a set of libertarian, hyper-principled people. They are profoundly serious about their view on how blockchains can be used to liberate the currently unbanked, protect the value of one’s labor from ever increasing inflation, and connect people around the world through payments, and specifically remove government interference in money.

As Erik Voorhees’ puts it –– in what is now one of the final debates with Bankman-Fried –– “what we are doing here is in effect bringing the same separation that occurred between church and state to state and payments. In effect freeing people around the world.” The earnesty of belief held by people like Voorhees doesn’t compute for people like Sequoia VC or Bankman-Fried. For them those beliefs were useful in that they got a community to work hard for close to no reward until the first few bitcoin bull runs. But the belief itself? For the jaded elite, a company mission often is a means to a single end: Enrich one’s bank account. To them, a mission is as significant as making a “charity,” or going on a service trip in high school to look good for an ivy league admissions officer. It is just part of “the game.”This is quite problematic, since their investments in immature crypto companies –– and overall childish behavior, like when FTX raised $420,690,000 from 69 investors –– is a large part of the reason the “crypto” industry isn’t respected by the general public.Moreover, Bankman-Fried regularly made statements criticizing bitcoin, for being “slow, and bulky.” Keep in mind, the bitcoin community not only birthed crypto, but are –– for better or worse –– perhaps the most ideologically pure people in technology. Moreover, Bankman-Fried sought to influence legislation that would impact the earnest bitcoiners. Since he was –– prior to FTX’s collapse –– one of the biggest Washington donors, he likely would succeed in lobbying the government to follow his view. But this here is a form of colonization. The crypto community was a vibrant ecosystem prior to Bankman-Fried’s entry. It was a bunch of misfits that came together to build something that was unique and important. A chance to feel empowered in a system they feel marginalized in. For Bankman-Fried and his cohorts to come into it aiming to make a percentage off of the trading fees of investors –– rather than create products and businesses in the ethos of bitcoin –– was their original sin. Should we be so surprised that it eventually fell apart?A Silicon SocialistIn a similar vein to a young child who asks “why doesn’t the government just print more money and give it to the homeless?” –– Bankman-Fried’s claim to fame was to make a lot of money and give it away. Like some benevolent patrician. Andrew Carnegie in board shorts. But was it really an authentic impulse for charity, or was his empathy just some kind of game strategy to increase his social capital?In a phone call with crypto reporter Tiffany Fong, Bankman-Fried said that he donated as much money to Republicans as he did Democrats, but did so quietly in order to gain favor with journalists who he felt were predominantly left wing. In other words, Bankman-Fried manufactured a public persona of humanitarianism, but in reality his raison d'être was to gain more power and cloutHis former business partner Anthony Scaramucci said that he saw Bankman-Fried as having a sort of “superiority complex.” So, perhaps in Bankman-Fried’s head he thought that he could single-handedly solve all of the world’s problems if only he had all of the money.Whatever the truth may be –– what is it that made Bankman-Fried think that he had the right to use other’s money at his own discretion? Or for him to enter a space that he, once again, had close to nothing to do with creating. What made him think that he should be the authority who decides what aspects are kosher or haram? Or write legislation for it?At its core is a belief he was the smartest person in the room. A belief certainly had the innate privilege to feel given his parents’ societal standing, and his undeniable analytical wit. But, what was missing in the matrix of Bankman-Fried was a soul. A soul that would allow for him to truly respect community that he was entering as a stranger. History is filled with examples of people similar to Bankman-Fried, who rose to power promising to be stewards of a new, more fair utopia.

When, in reality, the main change they’re looking for is to be the ones in power. Bankman-Fried took that trope and sprinkled in Silicon Valley culture. As Michael Lewis writes, for Bankman-Fried, most of life is just some kind of game. One which –– if most legal experts are correct –– he won’t be getting any restarts on.This is a guest post by Jacob Kozhipatt. Opinions expressed are entirely their own and do not necessarily reflect those of BTC Inc or Bitcoin Magazine.

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bottomvalerius · 3 years

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a note to myself: gotta draw Donna and Damien as little octopus people for MerMay and Sam as a shark uwu

#I originally wanted Valerius to be a slinky octopus man but like #no he is the little mermaid and Donna is the Sea witch that actually captures his heart #and also tentacles 💕💕💕#I need to figure out what shark I specifically would want Sam to be #maybe tiger ??? or bull ??? one of the more aggressive ‘I bite and then I talk’ sorta boys #rambling #I’ve never been into MerMay until like this year idk what it is

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mymoonagedaydream · 3 years

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Part 6

Summary: Why is it that being ‘just friends’ is always so much more difficult than it sounds?

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: Yooo it's the finale and my 100th post. What a time to be alive, stay safe and stay sexy guys, god love ya.

---

You and Bucky were friends again.

That’s how your chat had concluded, friends again. It might not have been exactly what you wanted deep down, but you knew it was the right thing for both of you, even if it was just while you sorted your heads out- jumping straight into any sort of romance without a buffer period would’ve been like surviving a shark attack and then booking scuba-diving lessons for the next day. You just needed a little rest.

That being said, when you started to hang out again, it became pretty clear that the two of you were still circling each other.

You could tell he was making an effort to get things back to normal but, whether for better or worse, that involved him reverting back to his usual, mega-flirtatious self. Buck’s teasing was almost enough to drag you kicking and screaming away from your inhibitions in small doses, so you were reasonably a little worried now that he was single and available to hang out with you and Sam almost every day.

Something was inevitably going to happen, you just didn’t know what.

You weren’t expecting a grand gesture or some huge, moving event to set in stone that the two of you were meant to be together, but you were definitely determined to wait until it felt right- or until you knew for sure that it would never feel right and it was time to move on.

Either way, you were just glad to have your friend back for now.

The only worrying thing was that you hadn’t heard from Cece. She knew vaguely when you were planning talking to Bucky, so you figured she’d be in touch soon afterwards, but you’d heard nothing.

That was, until you went round to Sam’s a few days later.

Pizza was ordered and a couple shitty movies were stuck on while the three of you goofed around, but the tone of the evening really shifted when Sam retreated into the bathroom for a shower. You and Buck were left alone.

He lowered the volume on the TV and pointed an apprehensive gaze towards you, which immediately set alarm bells ringing in your head. ‘So.’

‘So?’

‘I spoke to Cece.’

‘Yeah? Well that makes one of us, she’s been ignoring me.’ He winced slightly and grimaced, which made your stomach drop, a tingle of alarm travelling up your spine. ‘What did you talk to her about, Buck?’

‘Just... stuff.’

This was definitely not good. ‘What stuff, Buck?’

‘I’m really sorry.’

‘Oh jesus fuck.’

‘I didn’t mean to tell her that bit, I just-’ He shifted himself forwards, perching on the edge of his seat and grasping his hands together. ‘I just thought she deserved to know the truth. I swear I wasn’t gonna tell her it was you, but she guessed and I didn’t know what to say. Apart from my mom you’re kinda the only other woman I talk to.’

You put your head in your hands, horrified imagining what Cece must think of you. There you were giving advice and comforting her while in the background you and her boyfriend were playing the ultimate game of will-they-won't-they.

‘Are you pissed at me?’

Despite your panic, you struggled not to laugh at how timidly he asked you that. ‘About this specifically, or just generally?’

‘I guess both,’ he was obviously relieved at your playful tone, ‘but we can focus on this for now.’

‘No, I- ah fuck.’ You were struggling to string together your thoughts. ‘I’m not pissed, Buck. It’s not like we were best friends or anything, and she probably would’ve found out at some point, I just maybe would’ve preferred a little time between me comforting her and me being exposed as the other woman.’

He sighed loudly, still staring at you, obviously not knowing what to say next. It sounded like it wasn’t his fault, but you could tell he felt terrible for letting it slip.

‘You were right, she deserved to know. It was really mature of you to tell her.’

‘You think?’

‘Yeah, for sure. I’m impressed.’

‘Thanks.’ A smug smirk slowly spread across his face. ‘You know, that’s just one of my many great qualities.’

‘How many times do I have to tell you that being able to eat a Big Mac in one mouthful isn’t a great quality.’

‘That’s your opinion.’

The two of you carried on chatting shit, eventually straying far away from the Cece topic and never really revisiting it.

It was strange, even though you knew that she was somewhere out there probably hating your guts, it kind of felt like a loose end had been tied up. Bucky had told his whole truth and so could move forward with a totally clear conscience, Cece knew there was a real reason behind the break-up so- even though it definitely fucking sucked for her to hear- she could begin to properly get over it, and you now didn’t have to waste the next years of your life as a go-between for the two of them.

Hopefully, things were going to be much simpler now.

---

There were many instances in your friendship with Sam that had led you very close to homicide, and this night a few weeks later was one of them. He’d invited you for a night out with him and Buck, which sounded great, until he told you which bar he was taking you to.

Back to the scene of the fucking crime, just being there gave you Vietnam flashbacks.

The only solution you could possibly think of was to get so blackout drunk that you couldn’t even see your surroundings, never mind be haunted by them. It seemed like Buck had exactly the same idea, and Sam obviously just didn’t want to be left out, because he matched the two of you shot-for-shot all evening.

After a couple hours of hard drinking, Sam wobbled over to the bar to get another round- a good half hour passed before you and Buck realised that he’d managed to pull.

Well, either he’d pulled or some random girl at the bar had requested he give her a dental exam using only his tongue. Watching them go at it was like looking directly at the sun, your eyes started to sting after a couple seconds.

Once your corneas had been adequately burned, you let your gaze wander over the rest of the strangers holding up the bar, a couple of dudes catching your eye but none leaving a lasting impression. Bucky obviously noticed what you were doing.

‘Anyone you like the look of?’

‘Not really.’ You shrugged, making a huge effort to appear nonchalant. ‘You?’

His eyes stayed fixed on you. ‘Definitely.’

For some reason, your drunken self was absolutely fine with maintaining heated eye contact, in silence, for an unreasonably long period of time. The tension between the two of you just kept rising until it was pretty much off the charts.

It was you who eventually broke the spell. ‘You want to stop fucking me with your eyes?’

‘You want me to do it with something else instead?’

A dirty chuckle tried to escape your throat but you just about managed to stay composed. ‘I still haven’t decided.’

‘Haven’t decided or just don’t think I’ve been punished enough yet?’

You shrugged again, getting a cheeky smirk over the rim of his glass in return. Scanning your eyes over the bar one more time, you suddenly realised that Sam had disappeared, along with the girl he’d been eating alive.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’ Hovering out of your chair a little, you took a proper look around but still couldn’t see him. ‘Sam ditched us.’

‘Eh, let him have his fun. He was kind of a third wheel anyway.’

You collapsed back into your seat, raising an eyebrow at him. ‘You’re relentless tonight.’

‘And you’re hotter than hell and half of Georgia, what’re we gonna do about it?’

The look he was giving you made your head feel foggy, apparently copious amounts of alcohol and weeks of gradually building sexual tension was not a good mix.

You needed a minute.

After letting a brief excuse spill from your mouth, you jogged to the bathroom, figuring that leaving Bucky at the table a little confused was better than passing out or trying to shred his jeans off his body with your bare hands.

You steadied yourself on the sink, the same one that Cece had wept into a couple weeks earlier, splashed some cold water on your face and gave yourself a stern talking to. It was obvious what you wanted, at this point you were probably punishing yourself more than you were punishing him.

It felt right. It really did.

Squaring your shoulders, you took a deep breath and gave yourself a firm nod in the mirror. You’d never before felt so wobbly whilst simultaneously feeling like you could take on the whole fucking world.

You marched back into the bar and headed straight towards the front door, somehow managing to catch Bucky’s eye on your way out. A small follow me gesture was enough to tell him what was about to happen. He scrambled to his feet so fast it looked like someone had started a fire under his ass, the last few drops of his drink getting rapidly gulped down as his jacket was ripped from the back of his chair.

He met you out on the sidewalk. No words were exchanged, he immediately scooped you up into his arms and crashed his lips against yours. The next thing you knew, your back was firmly pressed against the cold brick wall, legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist.

Mouths connected with necks and hands grasped desperately at clothes, you could barely tell where you ended and he began.

He pulled away for a brief second. ‘Back to your place?’

‘What, you mean my parents’ house?’

‘Yeah, I wanna meet ‘em.’

You laughed far more loudly than intended before pushing him away and hurriedly making your way down the street, a hand firmly wrapped around his wrist. ‘In your dreams, asshole.’

---

You were unceremoniously woken up the next morning by an obnoxiously loud banging sound.

Figuring it was probably just your parents making sure you were still alive, you ignored it and tried to get back to sleep.

But the noise didn’t stop.

Slight irritation rose in your chest. You tried to yank the pillow out from under your head, with the intention of smothering yourself with it, but for some reason it wouldn’t budge. Something was holding it down.

A few seconds later, a combination of the loud banging and all your wriggling around stirred that something into action.

You were grasped firmly around the waist and pulled backwards, the length of this mystery presence’s body pressing firmly into the back of yours, a warm sensation spreading down your back and through all your limbs.

‘What the hell d’you want, man?’

The loud voice right next to your fucking ear was enough to knock you out of your half-asleep dream state, just in time for you to make full eye contact with Sam as he burst through the door.

‘Hey can I-’ He looked at you, then at Bucky, then calmly nodded and backed out of the room without another word.

After that, it quickly became apparent that you were not in your own bedroom. The dirty gym shorts on the floor and the ridiculously strong smell of cologne should’ve told you that straight away but, in your defence, you were very hungover.

‘Looks like the cat’s out of the bag.’

‘Well could you push it back in please, it’s poking the hell out of me and I’m trying to sleep.’

A low chuckle vibrated along your neck, making all your hairs stand on end. Buck somehow managed to flip you over in one swift movement so you were facing him, from which position he was able to pull your leg up, bringing your thigh to rest on his hip. Without a thought, your hand automatically moved up to rest gently on his cheek.

Lying there, nose to nose with him, it still felt right.

‘So,’ his eyes flickered open, a faint smile dawning on his lips, ‘have you decided yet?’

You settled yourself into him, letting his arms enclose you, feeling your whole body completely relaxing. You never thought you’d actually get here. It felt so nice just being close to him like this, but there was no way you could let him know that. He was cocky enough already.

‘Not yet, I’ll let you know.’

‘Fingers crossed.’

---

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---

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crashdevlin · 3 years

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Jump The Shark

Author’s Note: This is part nineteen of The Best Laid Plans series

Summary: When John gets a call from the youngest son he never got to meet, Y/n goes with him to find out what happened to the one-night stand John had back in 1990.

Pairing: Alpha!John x Omega!Reader

Word count: 3597

Story Warnings: angst...A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence, angst, mentions of physical violence, mentions of mindfuckery, mentions of ferality, pining, did I mention angst?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hadn't said anything. Not from the moment you and John found the truck. You climbed up into the cab and changed into jeans, a black and green plaid flannel and a pair of hiking boots. You dropped your suit skirt and blouse out the window going 80 down the interstate, and then you closed your eyes and listened to the Rolling Stones.

You had to open your eyes when your memories started attacking you.

Dean had been so sure that you were the one he wanted, the one he was looking for...but that was Dean Smith and Y/n Colt. That was a Stanford MBA and a former Miss Teen USA runner-up. The idea that he wanted to mark you was particularly hurtful and you were kinda glad you made him wait because you weren't sure if it would have reset like the first mark Sam gave you and the last thing you wanted was for Dean to be tethered to you when he could barely stand to be around you.

He only wanted you because he was someone else. He was someone else, but his soul was still stuck on you. You both felt that pull because you were connected but he didn't want you. Smith liked Colt, but Winchester would never love Y/l/n.

John just drove. It was obvious he had no destination in mind, he just pointed the truck West and drove. Part of you wished that he would go back to Mississippi but you knew that your semi-normal was gone...and it was better. You were a hunter and so were your alphas. No normal for you.

"It hit her hard, Sammy," you heard John whispering as he drove when you woke up a few hours into Missouri. "She hasn’t been that close with your brother in years and the fact that it was all fake is killing her."

A pang of sadness hit you as your brain called forth what John was talking about. The haze of sleep had taken the memory, but now it was clear why your heart felt like so many broken pieces shoved into a box in your chest.

"Yeah, we know that but he won't say it and she probably wouldn't be able to hear it now anyway." John sighed as Sam spoke through the phone. "Son, I don't know what we can do other than what we always do. If you need help, just call, but she definitely doesn't need to be around your brother for a while. All right. Keep me updated," John said before setting his phone on the dashboard. "I know you’re awake, 'mega. Can't fool me."

"Wasn't trying to fool you. Just letting you finish your conversation," you responded, sitting up and stretching as best as you could in the truck cab. "What'd Sam want?"

"Tell me that the whole deal in Cincinnati was the Angels fucking with us. Specifically fucking with Dean. They wanted to prove to him that he was always supposed to be a Hunter or something."

"And we just got pulled along for the ride? That was nice of them." You rolled your eyes and reached down for your purse, pulling out a travel mouthwash. "So, what, everything's dandy now?" you asked as you took a drink of the mint liquid, swished it around in your mouth and swallowed.

"You know, you're supposed to spit that out, right?"

"Only quitters spit," you said automatically. You ran your hand across your face as you dropped the bottle to the floorboard. Dirty jokes Dean told you as a teen were not what you needed to get out of your funk. “I’ve put worse things in my body.”

“Girl, we...we’ll get through this.”

“Not like we have a lot of options, right?” You licked your lips and shook your head. “I’m fine, John. I slept. I’m better. I’m fine.”

“When are you gonna learn that it’s useless to lie to me?” John asked.

“I’m sure it’ll sink in eventually,” you responded, chuckling. “I promise...I’m going to be fine.”

“I know you will,” John said, reaching over to pat your knee.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks passed and you were getting better at putting it behind you. The might’ve-beens dragged up by the Angels in Cincinnati were slowly being pushed back into the recesses of your mind and you were feeling better. Sam emailed John to tell him about some jerk in Ohio writing books about the boys’ lives, someone Castiel revealed to be a Prophet of the Lord who was writing The Winchester Gospels. There were books about the boys’ lives, their actions, their innermost thoughts, just hanging out on bookshelves around the world. You wondered if you were in any of the stories, the gospels.

John’s secondary cell phone went off as you pulled the truck into the parking lot of a coffee shop and he frowned as he looked down at the screen before he answered, “Hello?” A beat of time as you parked the truck and turned to him. “He’s not available. Can I help you?” He had a severe look on his face and you shook your head at him, confused by his reaction to the call. “What’d you say your name was? Milligan...and, uh, what are you callin’ John for?”

He made a fist and hammered it into his forehead. “Right, well, uh, I hate to have to tell you this over the phone but John is dead. He died in 2001.” Your eyes went wide and John put a finger up to quiet you before you could even start to question. “If you need help, then I can meet with you, kid. I’m, uh, John Winchester’s son, Dean. Windom, Minnesota. Cousin Oliver Café. We’ll be there tomorrow at 8am. See ya then, kid.”

“What the fuck, John?!” you exclaimed when he ended the call.

“Fuck.” He scratches his fingernails across his forehead and sighs as he sets the phone on the dash. “I recognized the area code, knew it was Missouri, thought it might have something to do with...with this case I had around January 1990. Anybody I interacted with back then, they would’ve known me before I got hit with that hex. So, that’s why I answered the phone like that and I’m glad I did because...because the kid on the other end of the phone is…” He trailed off and you gave him a pointed look.

“The kid on the other end of the phone is what?”

“My youngest son, Adam.”

Your eyes went wide, confusion and anger filling your body. “Your what?”

“I told you...I told you that I had one dalliance before you after Mary died, remember? When I was on that ghoul hunt and I went into rut and I-I was almost feral and I had one night where I couldn’t fuckin’ control myself and-”

“You knocked her up with pups?” you whispered. For some reason, it hurt a lot more than it should, especially considering you were only seven years old at the time.

“Only one. Adam.” He shook his head at himself. “She never told me. I didn’t know anything about it until 2001...and by then…by the time Adam called the first time, I was a young man again. I couldn’t show up looking like a twenty-five year old and start a relationship with the boy. So I just never called him back, kinda put him on the back burner. I figured I’d go see him when we found the witch and fixed me but I never found the witch and-”

“So, why’s he calling again now?” you asked, trying to be understanding. It wasn’t John’s fault. He should have told you. He should have told his other sons, but he couldn’t do anything about it now.

“His mom, Kate, is missing.”

“And he called you because?” you asked.

“Because the cops aren’t worried and his mom told him to try to get a hold of me if anything weird ever happened. She knew about the hunting.”

“So, your plan is to...pretend to be your oldest son and go meet your youngest son for the first time and try to find his missing mother...who most probably is just normal-missing, not supernatural-missing?” you asked, cautious of your tone.

“I can drop you somewhere if you don’t wanna participate in this, girl,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

“No,” you responded vehemently. “You don’t get to leave me behind, Winchester. Not ever again, remember?”

“Okay, then I’m gonna need you to back me on this and you’re going to have to call me ‘Dean’.”

You nodded. “I can do that.” You weren’t sure you wanted to, but you’d do it for him.

“Thank you, darlin’.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John was nervous. You could smell it in his scent. You leaned into his shoulder as you sat in the booth, trying to calm him with your own scent. You kept your head on his shoulder as he switched a glass of water out with a glass of holy water and set a trio of silverware on the opposite side of the table. “Just in case.”

“You really think-”

“I looked into him, ya know? Kid did real good without me in his life,” John said suddenly. “He’s real and he’s smart and he never had anything to do with this life. I’m scared it bled onto him anyway.”

You sighed and leaned up to press a kiss to his temple as the door opened and a tall, thin young man walked into the diner. He looked like a mix of Sam and Dean. “That’s him,” you whispered, recognizing him from the Facebook profile.

John, or rather ‘Dean’, stood and waved at the boy.

“Dean?” Adam asked, walking over. John nodded. The boy laughed. “Wow, you look just like the picture my mom had of-of John. You’re almost the spitting image of him.” He let out a scoff as he sat down, his eyes moving to you. “Who’s this?”

“My omega,” John said, a bit defensively.

“Y/n,” you said, offering your hand to him.

Adam took it with a smile. “Wow.”

You felt a cringe move through your body and you looked down. “What?”

“I just…” Adam cleared his throat. “There’s not a lot of omegas in Windom and none are as pretty as you.”

Another Winchester flirting with you was sending all sorts of bad signals through your body. You softly tugged your hand back and sat back down as Adam settled into the opposite side of the booth and picked up the water. You held your breath when he took a drink but the water went down easy so you relaxed a bit.

But not much.

He smelled wrong. John was lavender and orange and ylang ylang, Dean was lavender and honeysuckle and anise, Sam was vanilla and coffee and undercurrents of honeysuckle when he was in rut. Adam smelled like dirt.

Not grass and forest and mossy logs, dirt. Just dirt. He didn’t even have a secondary scent to him, no undercurrent or complementary smell. Just dirt.

There should have been some part of him that smelled like a Winchester, even if he wasn’t the same makeup of a Winchester as the ones you knew. He shouldn’t smell like that.

Adam didn’t seem to notice your musing or your deep breaths to try and find something else in his scent. He went off on a tangent as he ate his breakfast about how John and Kate met in the emergency room at the hospital room where she works and he went into rut after he got hurt and Adam tried to get a hold of John when he was a kid and John just never picked up the phone and he’s glad that ‘Dean’ answered the phone this time.

“At least I know why he didn’t answer when I was calling before. So, uh, what happened to John?”

“Heart attack,” John responded. “It was sudden.”

“Right, guess that makes sense. Heart disease is the number one killer of men his age in the US,” Adam said.

Your eyes focused on the silverware in the man’s fists. Not a shifter either then. But this was something. This was not a Winchester.

“Well, after we get done eating, why don’t you take us to the house and we’ll see if we can’t find something to tell us where your mom got to,” John offered.

“Thanks, Dean,” Adam said with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"He didn't react to silver or holy water," John argued as he followed Adam's car down the road.

"So? There's plenty of things that can alter people's perception of them that don't react to silver or holy water! Rakshasas, sirens, djinns, ghouls, do I need to go on?" you argued back. "He smells like dirt, John. That is not-"

"Maybe that's just-"

"What'd his mother smell like?" you interrupted.

"Passion fruit...and something else I can't remember."

"Not dirt. He shouldn't smell like that. He's not your son."

John sighed and scratched at his chin. "You might be right. He should smell more like one of us. He doesn't even smell like an alpha, honestly, but...if he's not Adam, then where the hell is Adam? And where's Kate? And why the fuck would whatever he is try to get me out here?"

"I don't know."

"Me either. For now, let's focus on finding Kate and we'll go from there." You held in a groan and focused out the windshield. "I know, 'mega. I'm just...I got this feeling...I lost my opportunity to be a part of this boy's life because of that witch."

"And that’s terrible, John...but you wouldn't have me if it wasn't for that witch so…"

“I’m not sayin’ I regret it, sweetheart, I just...wish I could have...met him once before I went after that bitch.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, biting your thumbnail. “Sometimes I wish things were different, too.”

“You wish I never came over when you were going into that first heat,” he guessed.

You swallowed, but you didn’t answer. The truth was, you had thought through a lot of different wishes and butterfly-effect ripples of how it would change everything. If John didn’t show up, you wouldn’t be a hunter. If Dean hadn’t pushed you to let Sam take you when those apple-pie assholes put you in heat, you would have just been Dean’s. If you never sold your soul for Dean, you might have been able to move on, find another alpha...a non-Winchester.

“I don't think I'd be myself if you hadn't shown up,” you answered eventually. “I'd have stayed stuck at Bobby's, never ended up with an alpha let alone two, and I would be dying from never getting a knot in a few years' time...it’s better you did.”

"I'm...glad I did, Y/n. I like the woman you are, the strong and beautiful omega you are.”

You smiled and your cheeks heated up at the praise. “Let’s just get this done, huh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t exactly happy that you were the one who had to crawl through the vents but Adam said, and John fucking agreed, that you were smallest and therefor the best choice. When you found the blood and pieces of skull and blond hair, you were happy to be small enough to pull your phone out of your pocket and text the news to John so he could break the news before you crawled back out.

“Call the cops. We gotta get out of here, though,” John said as he offered you a hand to help you up out of the vent.

“Wait, but-” Adam started to argue.

“We don’t mix with cops,” you responded, before stomping away from them, roughly brushing dust off of your jeans and shirt. “Come on, J-Dean. Let’s get out of here.”

“You don’t mix with-” Adam started to argue, but you pushed past him and stomped out to John’s truck.

“There was no surprise in his scent. There was no anger or sadness. I’ve lost both parents, John, there should have been-”

“Maybe he’s numb or-”

“Maybe he’s made of dirt or something!” you snapped. “That is not-”

“He hasn’t done anything wrong yet, ‘mega.”

You shook your head. “Yeah. Yet. You know what, John? I’m gonna go ahead and look into things that could be pretending to be your illegitimate pup.”

You barely looked at him as you got out of the truck and headed inside to start researching. When Adam showed up to find out what was going on with his missing mother and you and ‘Dean’ leaving before the cops showed up and “what the hell?!” John decided to explain about hunting as simply as he could. He didn’t explain who he really was, though. And then John decided to take Adam to explore other options of finding Kate.

It was a couple hours later that you came across a mention in an online lore forum that said ghouls, while normally scavengers who feast on dead flesh, could actually eat living specimens and have been shown to greatly enjoy fresh human meat and blood...and just like feasting on the dead, the ghoul can take the visage of their victim and their memories.

“Didn’t John say that’s what he was after when he was here before?” you whispered to yourself as you picked up your cell phone and dialed John’s number. It rang through until it went to voicemail. You called again. It went to voicemail again.

Panic fell over you. Your alpha was in trouble. Your alpha was in trouble and you had no idea where he was.

“Fuck!” You were almost shaking as you stood up and looked around aimlessly. What could you do? Another string of expletives fell from your mouth before you forced yourself to focus. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. Your soul was connected to him. You needed to find him.

It only took a flash. A flash of the dining room at Kate’s house, John tied to the table had you grabbing the keys to John’s truck and rushing for your alpha. You pushed that truck as fast as it would go to get it to the house on the outskirts of Windom. The truck tires screeched as you slid to a stop in the front yard. You grabbed your shotgun from the rack in the truck bed and ran into the house.

John was tied to the table, ‘Adam’ and ‘Kate’ standing over him as he bled from his wrists. “Y/n,” he groaned. “They’re ghouls!”

“I know!” you snapped, aiming at Adam’s head and shooting. Parts of his head exploded onto the wall behind him and Kate shrieked before running at you. You moved to pump the shotgun for a second shot, but Kate grabbed you and tossed you into the wall like you were nothing.

“Y/n!”

“I’m fine, John!” you shouted, rolling onto your hands and knees.

“John?” Kate spat out, her tone dripping with poison.

“Forgot to mention before you started draining me,” John groaned. “I’m the one who killed your daddy, sweetheart.”

“Witches are better than plastic surgery, bitch,” you said, sweeping the woman’s leg with your foot. She fell to the floor and you jumped up, grabbing the shotgun and shooting her in the head, too. You licked your lips and panted as you limped over to the table and pulled out a knife, getting him loose from his binds. “You okay?” you asked, grabbing a rag and ripping it in half, wrapping each half around his wounds.

“Yeah. You...you got here in time.” He sat up, his legs hanging off the table as you secured the wraps around his wrists. “How’d you know?”

“I figured out ghouls could eat fresh and then I couldn’t get you on the phone and...I…” You licked your lips. “I knew where to find you.”

“How?” he pressed.

“How’d you know what motel room I was cutting Sam’s mark off of me?” you asked in answer.

“You felt it?” he asked and you nodded. He reached out, barely wincing at the pull on his wrist, and pulled you in for a soft, sad kiss. “They were siblings, kids of the ghoul I took down last time I was in Windom. They called to get revenge for me killing their dad.” He looked away. “Killed Kate and Adam to get revenge first. I was hoping I wasn’t right about my life bleeding on his.”

“It’s not your fault, John,” you whispered.

He shook his head. “I know. Shoulda stuck around to see if the thing left behind little monsters for me to kill, but...I went into rut...and then I had to get back to the boys.”

“John...it’s really not on you.”

“He’s dead because of me.”

“He was alive because of you,” you insisted. “He had nineteen years before these things...he had nineteen years because of you. Please, don’t let this get to you.” You chuckled, ruefully. “I’m the one that’s supposed to be barely floating in an ocean of shit. You’re supposed to be my life raft.”

He smiled and nodded. “I am. I am your life raft, darlin’. Just...a little blood-deprived right now. I’ll perk up after a glass of O.J. and some protein. Come on. Let’s get outta here.”

You nodded and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, helping him off of the table and walking him out to the truck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @sunnyroadtrips @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 Hunter Tags - @atc74 @sandlee44 @spnbaby-67 @kalesrebellion @tumbler-tidbits @hoboal87 @stoneyggirl @kbl1313 @cookiechipdough @mrswhozeewhatsis @winchesterxfamilybusiness @holylulusworld @pretty-fortune @screechingartisancashbailiff @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits @imperiusimpala @supernaturalenchanted @blueaura @quxxnxfhxll

The Best Laid Plans Tags- @pink1031 @sharlynn @viinchester @kalesrebellion @fabinaforever11 @roonyxx @juggysgirlfriend @bobbie3939 @vicmc624

#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #reader-insert #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!john #omega!reader #john x reader

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musingsofanunorgainizedmind · 3 years

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Top 10 Things I Love About Supernatural

It’s been almost half a year since the show ended and now that the dust has settlIed, I just want to list ten reasons I love this show. Despite it’s flaws, it’s been quite the ride.

1. Team Free Will

When I first got the idea to make this list, I originally planned on doing entirely separate entries for “Sam & Dean” and “Destiel”. Except then I wanted to pay tribute to “Sastiel”. And then I wanted to do an entry for “Team Free Dads”. By that point, I was already halfway through the list and I hadn’t even moved on from the main characters. A few months ago, I made a post about why I love every single pairing in this group. Obviously, Sam and Dean are a legendary duo. Obviously, Dean and Cas have an unparalleled story. Obviously, Sam and Cas are an underrated team. As for Team Free Dads, I’ve always had a soft spot for father/mentor figure characters and and all three tackle the role in different ways. I love Jack, too. I love how everyone in this bizarro family is “broken” in some way. We’ve got the Allistair’s prized pupil, the spawn of satan, the boy with demon blood, and the angel who nearly obliterated all of heaven. But they help each other heal by being supportive and seeing the good in each other. They all love each other so deeply and when together, nothing can stand in their way. Not Michael, not Lucifer, and not God himself. They tore up the book and wrote their own story. And it was a pleasure to watch it all unfold.

2. The Suppporting Characters

To list every single supporting character I have loved and lost in this show would take way too long. I don’t know if it’s the writing or acting performances, but I love pretty much every single supporting character on this show. Even villains like Azazel or Allistair are top-notch villains. Hell, I even like characters like Metatron, Lucifer, Mary, and John! Characters like Rufus, Charlie, Crowley, Rowena, Kevin, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, Gabriel, Balthazar, Mick...how am I not supposed to love them??? All of their stories were cut so short. I’d watch a show about any of these characters. The Wayward Sisters were robbed. So many ships were gone too soon (Sam/Rowena, Dean/Jo, Cas/Meg, Etc.). So many heartbreaking deaths. I want to be best friends with all these characters. Why be a “dean-girl” or a “sam-girl” when you can be a garth-girl? A kevin-girl? A claire-girl? A bela-girl? There are so many great characters with interesting and compelling backstories and so much untapped potential. I could go on forever on this, but I digress.This show has one of the best supporting casts I have ever had the pleasure of watching.

3. The Themes

It’s no accident that I got addicted to this show at the time that I did. Namely, my Senior Year of College and 2020. Graduating college and entering the “real world” felt like it’s own sort of apocalypse. 2020 definitely exacerbated my worst tendencies. Messages like “family don’t end in blood”, “you can write your own story”, and “always keep fighting” really resonated with me. I could definitely relate to the feelings of insecurity these character’s felt and the ways they suppressed/repressed their issues instead of facing them. I could relate to the feelings of not fitting in and I could definitely relate to the loneliness. This show helped remind me that I’m not alone. That it’s okay if my values and identity don’t line up with the what I envisioned for myself. And, most importantly, that there is a light at the end of the tunnel and that I should never give up. If Dean, Sam, and Cas can keep moving forward despite their demons and despite how bad it gets, so can I. Regardless of how the story ended, these themes resonated with me and I’ll still hold them with me. A single episode can’t take that away.

4. The Fun Episodes

This show has so many legendary standalone episodes. Changing Channels. Ghostfacers. The French Mistake. Fan Fiction. Tall Tales. Bad Day at Black Rock. When this show goes for the absurd, it goes all-in. It takes the risks it needs to take, it gets completely insane, and it pulls it off. So many of these episodes could have easily been the moment that the show “jumped the shark”. Yet, time after time, the show delivered on it’s potential. I don’t know how much I can say about these episodes except that they made me laugh out loud, made me fall even harder for these characters, and that they’re the episodes I remember best. If I were to rewatch any episode, it would be one of the fun ones. This show knew how to not take itself too seriously and how to poke fun at itself. I’ve always had a soft spot for shows that can make me laugh and cry (X-Files, Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel, Doctor Who, etc.), and this show definitely nails the fun part.

5. The Sad Episodes

Death’s Door. Hammer of the Gods. Despair. Carry On. Abandon All Hope. In My Time of Dying. Swan Song. When this show wants you to cry, it doesn’t pull the punches. It gets downright devastating. No character is safe. Literally every character you love will either be forgotten or will die. Or both. The amount of trauma Sam and Dean have to go through is insane. Both have literally been to hell and back. Both have killed countless people, including innocents. When this show decides it wants to wreck you, it’s overwhelming. I sobbed when Bobby died. I sobbed when every single member of Team Free Will died for the final time (I still can’t watch any of those scenes). I still wish Jo, Ellen, Charlie, Kevin, Mick, and Gabriel had been given more time to tell their stories. Being a hunter means a life of endless angst. Being an angel or demon doesn’t get you off the hook, either. I remember going into this show thinking it couldn’t hurt me. My favorite character type is “mentor/father figure”. But holy hell...I don’t think every single sad moment was necessarily good writing, but when it was? Damn.

6. The Biblical Themes

I’m not a relgious person. But, despite this show being steeped in Christian mythology, it really touched on my feelings about the Old Testament in a profound way. Well, really just Ben Edlund and Robbie Thompson did. I’ve never seen a show really hit the overall feel of the bible the way this show does. The idea of Angels as mystical and terrifying creatures. The idea of God as a flawed father figure with a penchant for wrath. The sheer epicness of the biblical stories. The idea of family members constantly being turned on each other. Cain and Abel. Jacob and Essau. Moses and Ramses. Moses and Aaron. Abraham and Isaac. The bible is full of stories of family drama. This show doesn’t always give angels and demons weight. Sometimes it’s silly and stupid and cheesy. But when it hits right? It’s epic. This is more of a personal thing I love about the show, but definitely a plus!

7. The Music

The early seasons music is so good. I really miss the classic rock of the golden era of the show. I mean, there are still some great musical moments later on, but damn. I loved hearing songs I recognized and I loved learning new songs. I loved when the song and the scene hit perfectly in time (Death’s intro. Cas’s return in Season 13.). Also Supernatural wouldn’t be Supernatural without the ‘Carry On My Wayward Son’ song at the end of every season. Even at the end of a season I didn’t love, that recap would always get me pumped. Also Chuck singing Fare Thee Well? Dean and Lee singing together? Fan Fiction? All great.

8. The Cast & Crew

I never care about the actors or actresses in a show. I definitely don’t bother with the names of specific writers and directors or their styles of writing/directing. They’re just random people who happen to write for or play these characters I love. They’re not actually the characters. But these guys? Well, for one, I’m pretty sure half this cast actually is their character. At least to some degree. They’re also just...really cool people? Who are all friends? They make a point to do community service, to interact with fans, and to promote positive ideas. Jared’s Always Keep Fighting campaign. Misha and GISH. The fact that they all participate in fundraising opportunities and encourage fan engagement. Do they all have issues? Definitely. Have they said stupid things? Yes. But the good far outweighs the bad. They’re an entertaining bunch whether onscreen or not and I hope they all do well in whatever their future endeavors may be.

9. The Fandom

I joined this fandom late. To be honest, I thought this fandom was obnoxious before I found myself a part of it. Now that I’ve been in the trenches? It’s got it’s ups and downs like any fandom. There are some parts that are more toxic than others. A lot of people yelling that their opinion is the only opinion. But overall? The good outweighs the bad. And the good? The good is great. Some fanfictions I’ve read are better than actual books I’ve read and just as moving. The fanart? Incredible. I love reading all the metas about random aspects of the show I never would have noticed. I love the music videos and I love the analytical videos. In real life, I’ve made many friends through our mutual love of this show. Hell, even getting sucked into GISH once or twice has given me some solid memories and brought me closer to friends. I wish all fandoms were this much like family. I’m so glad I got to be a part of this fandom and I can’t wait to continue being a fan. After all, nothing ever stays dead in Supernatural.

10. The Chaos & Insanity

Season 16 has been a time. First, Destiel went canon. Then suddenly Sherlock was having a 5th season, Putin was retiring, and Georgia was going blue. Destiel going “canon” and Joe Biden winning the presidency will always be correlated in my mind now. Things in the fandom went from quiet to blaringly loud real fast. Carry On happened. The fandom went into a civil war. I can’t even remember half of what happened in Season 16, but it’s been a wild ride. There’s been ups (my personal favorite being the french dub and the Saileen wedding). There’s been downs (Jared’s controversial statements and the original scripts being leaked). At one point Misha Collins had sex with Bill Clinton???? It’s been a wild time. It’s honestly gotten me through the end of this pandemic. At least it’s entertaining. I would say that at least all the craziness is over, but is it ever really over? Every time I say that something else completely insane happens. But it’s been fun. I’m glad I started watching this show despite my reservations and here’s to whatever happens next.

#team free will #team free will 2.0 #castiel #jack kline #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam and dean #destiel #wayward sisters #supernatural #spn #misha collins #jared padalecki #jensen ackles

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whitehairedclea · 3 years

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Red Roulette part VIII

Helena sat in her office remembering Chang's words from last night. “As if I didn't know about my intuition, if it wasn't for my intuition I wouldn't open casinos in the States or raise such amount of money, you idiot” she thought. Then, for a split second, she remembered his hands holding her hand and her waist. Gently, yet firm enough to keep her from talking any more. She lit a cigarette and tossed the lighter at the corner of the desk. She quickly dispelled her memories, returning to the issue of the diamond. From the words of Chang showed that the guy did it on behalf of someone, and so probably the diamond has already been transferred to the client.

"Sebastian!"

A seconds later he appeared in the office waiting for an order.

"Bring the Spider over here immediately, maybe he will know something today that will be helpful"

"Of course, I'll get him right away," he replied and left the office quickly.

If someone did order the theft of the diamond, there must have been some trace of it on the streets. So many informants were fooling around deceiving every single profitable handful of information that such a fact of handing over the diamond could not have escaped them.

“ Mrs. Roulette! How nice ... "Spider began as soon as he entered, but Helena quickly cut off his greeting.

“Okay, finish this cirrus. Fast. Have you heard of any strange meeting last night? "

"Virtually every one in this city, as if you could be more precise"

“It's mainly about the diamond, so focus. Whatever you heard, whatever you know "

“Let's start 600,000,” he smiled.

She had no desire or time to bargain with him, so she just nodded, trying to trust her intuition that he was the only person who could move her search forward.

"I heard one guy brag about a huge amount of money earned for one thing, just one Job. Maybe not a diamond specifically, but quite a similarity"

"Well, who was it then?"

"One of the people coming to the Yellow Flag, long brown hair, possibly American, weird that’s why I remember and that's all I know."

This was more than she could figure out so far, so she thought she had found the lead. All she had to do was find this man and find out who told him to do the job. Time was running out and there was also a risk that someone would want to sell this diamond abroad. Probably worth more than all of Roanapur .

***

Sebastian headed for the Yellow Flag, a dingy bar on the main street. Inside, it was swarming with suspicious curiosities - dealers, bounty hunters, dirty workmen, prostitutes who could be hired upstairs. In all this hive, he was looking for an American with long hair.

"Hi Bao " greeted the owner "how's the deal?"

"So far so good, it's only been a week since the last damage, how r you ?"

"It's pretty good to say the casino is spinning somehow, little problems"

"Problems? What, boss has her period? " laughed, but after Sebastian's expression he retired to safer topics "so what problems?"

"I'm looking for a new stranger, he must have arrived here about two days ago, a long-haired brunette, an American, have you heard something about it?"

Bao rapped on the counter to indicate that nothing is for free. Sebastian took a bundle of money out of his pocket and asked for a mug of beer for that.

"My dear, if any connoisseur from Uncle Sam is going to roll through this town, he is sure to look into a lovely restored place like the Yellow Flag!" Bao moved closer to him so that no one would hear what he was saying "... how to tell you, the girls upstairs are definitely perfect"

Sebastian didn’t need more. He jumped up, throwing an additional tip to the bartender, and ran upstairs. Already on the stairs there were crowds of women who were Whiting for the client. Mixed voices of men and women came from everywhere. Every room felt occupied. Sebastian had to choose one to find the American.

One room caught his attention as there was no sound. He decided to try and blew the door open. Inside, a white man sat on the couch, counting quite a large mountain of money. It was obvious this guy was the one he was looking for.

In an instant, he took out the gun before he could react and pointed it at him.

"Dude what are you ?!"

"I would advise you to start talking before your brain will be on that wall over there!" he shouted.

The gun was now right at his temple.

"Who did you sell the diamond to?" Sebastian asked the distressed American.

"It's nothing personal man"

'I don't care, you stole my boss's diamond, who's not a very patient woman. If you want to get out of this, I advise you to talk, we will probably manage without you, but it will be faster,' he replied, unlocking the gun.

The American, feeling the barrel of the gun against his temple, understood how much he did not care about keeping the client's secret. He had money, keeping his life was a priority. Later he talked more than had to.

He was commissioned by an Italian named Dotti right after his arrival in Roanapur. He escaped from the Italian mafia and hid somewhere in the city, gathering his strength to take over the position of the then mafia boss. He couldn't announce his great comeback yet, so he decided to start marking his grounds with minor intimidations. Defecting Helena was to scare her and take over the casino as a new home. The plan might have worked if it had happened to someone else. Helena wasn't going to let go of such an insult, she would have pulled information about him from the city's canals to get him.

"THIS IS ALL I KNOW!" he shouted "really even the pasta makers don't know where he is. NOBODY knows, I got the money a moment ago together with the key to this room!"

There was nothing else to ask. He sheathed the gun and grabbed the bag of money, then threw them all out of the open window. Hundreds of dollars scattered across the crowded street. Seconds later, there were shouts of surprise and fights for every dollar.

"FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER WTF ?!"

'Enjoy you're alive. I'd rather blow your head off now" Sebastian replied and left.

He returned to the casino as soon as possible. It was the most important piece of information, the main puzzle to solve the whole case. They might have started working before it was too fast to spread around town that the Roulette casino could be brazenly robbed.

Sebastian shared with Helena all the clues he had obtained. Without a moment's thought, she rushed to the phone and started calling known informants if anyone had heard of Datti's location . Unfortunately, silence, no one knew him and no one heard of him since he hid from the Italian mafia.

"The little fish don't know anything or don't want to sprinkle ..." she said, looking out the window. Sebastian had the impression that she was running out of ideas on what to do next.

'Maybe actually wait for an intimidation attempt? There is a chance he'll reveal himself. ”Helena didn't let him finish, she held up a hand to silence him.

'I won't wait, Sebastian. It's a perfect night to spill some blood, "she said with a slight smile on her face, then added," If the little fish don't know anything, let's see what the shark says. "

'It means ?'

'We're going to talk to All-Knowing-Mr-Chang , I think it might be a good move.' her green eyes flashed.

Sebastian felt as if she was getting excited about this whole situation.

***

The private line telephone began to ring. Chang picked up "Cho , if they're Cubans again with cocaine in their veins, fire them, I won't play business with junkies," he dropped after a hard day. From this morning, one of the cartel people wants to sell him the idea of cracking down on cocaine in Japan. Like a drugged man, full of vision, he only wasted his time.

'Of course boss, it's just ... they're not Cubans. Red Roulette and Sebastian are here asking for a meeting'

Somewhere in the background you could hear Helena's voice, who didn't like the phrase 'ask'. She clearly tried to correct that she required this meeting.

'Let them in'

Chang began to believe that this evening was not going to be written off after all. "But there are still people in this town who can keep me entertained," he thought. A moment later he heard the clap of heels and a knock on his office door.

'Come in'

Cho entered first and signaled that they could enter. Helena straightened her red hair quickly and walked in with a serious look.

"Why do I owe such a great visit," he asked, comfortably leaning against the desk.

'I'll be short because I don't have time. I know who ordered the theft and it was Dotti , a former member of the Italian Mafia, but I have no idea where he is ' she came close enough to rest her hands on his desk. The red nails tapped gently impatiently. Her green eyes, full of fury, waited for his reply. It was only then that he noticed that there was a tiny mole on her face next to her left eye. Right at the tip , as if it was waiting to be spotted under the cover of red waves of hair. The long black dress sparkled softly in the light, and Chang wished she would take a few steps back to see her leg emerging from the slit. The louder tapping of her nails brought him back to reality. He wanted to laugh at wandering his mind, but quickly gathered his thoughts.

"Of course, I know where he is. Boss of the italian mafia still makes me laugh that he can’t find this Dotti guy. I'll help you with him, " he replied, standing to put on his jacket.

'You misunderstood me, Mr. Chang. I don't want you to help me deal with him. Just give me his location, I'll do the rest myself. '

It made the corner of his mouth turn into a devilish smile. The predator's gaze shone from behind his black glasses .

'Sorry, I misinterpreted your intentions. Then let me accompany you on this journey ”he offered her a hand, lowering his head as if inviting her to dance.

He was eager to see this confrontation unfold. And most of all, what she can do. As a new fish in town, she had to show that she could do more than sell information, otherwise it would be difficult for her. She could slide quickly to the very bottom of that Roanapur abyss .

'In that case, let's dance tonight' she smiled malevolently.

#mine

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thedeaditeslayer · 5 years

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Dead Doll's Eyes: Bruce Campbell Talks New Evil Dead and Calls Out Martin Scorsese’s Bulls—t.

You can choose to read the interview below or click the link above to listen to the ten minute recorded version.

Bruce Campbell burrowed his way into our hearts as a dashing B-movie icon with roles in a litany of cult classics, from Evil Dead to Bubba Ho-Tep.

After returning to his roots to play Ash Williams for three seasons of delightfully gratuitous gore in Ash vs Evil Dead, Campbell put away his chainsaw for good when Starz cancelled the series in 2018. However, much to fans’ delight, Evil Dead trilogy director and Ash vs Evil Dead producer Sam Raimi recently announced a forthcoming entry to the franchise with Campbell attached as a producer. Even better: although Ash won’t return to fight Deadites in live action, Campbell will lend his voice to an upcoming Evil Dead video game.

To accompany the rerelease of his memoir Hail to the Chin: Further Confessions of a B Movie Actor — now with an added “Requiem for Ash” chapter — Campbell is dropping by the Alamo City next week for a screening of Army of Darkness and audience Q&A. He promises it’ll be a good time — “There’s lots of stories about the making of that ridiculous movie.”

We caught up with Campbell over the phone, and he shared his thoughts on retiring Ash, teased some upcoming projects and even offered a few choice words for Martin Scorsese.

After Ash vs Evil Dead was cancelled you decided to hang up the character and retire him.

I did, didn’t I?

Unlike other actors who retire their characters, it’s not so much that you’re sick of Ash Williams, but that the demands of filming such a special effects-heavy series led you to reach something you’ve called “The Latex Point.” Could you expand on the on-set demands of Ash vs Evil Dead and why they’re so taxing?

Well, my wife sort of put a finger on it — as she so often does. She came into the trailer one day the last season of shooting, and I’m sitting there miserable because I had to put down plastic sheeting everywhere I went. I’d stick to everything because I was always covered with blood.

She goes, “I know what your problem is — you got Poopy Diaper Syndrome.”

I’m like, “What’re you talking about?”

“You’re like a 3-year-old or a 2-year-old sitting in a poopy diaper, and you can’t get out of your poopy diaper. No one will help you change your poopy diaper.”

So really, it’s that. It’s a series of lying face down in cellars. And it occurred to me multiple times. I’d be lying there literally face down, waiting for a shot, covered in blood in a dark cellar on the dirt, and I’m like, “Is this where I belong?” And the answer was “yes” for a long time, but it’s not a permanent place where you wanna be. Not as a 60-year-old man.

I wanted to avoid that Star Wars crap, where they’re holding these actors up with baling wire and cotton balls, you know what I mean? Feeding them their lines of dialogue through earbuds. I couldn’t do that. I could still pull the character off, so I wanted to finish while I could still do it.

And not have it kind of become…

Uh, sad. We don’t want sadness.

But you’re not leaving Evil Dead. You’re attached as a producer to a new movie, and it’s going to bring new blood into the franchise, including a director hand-picked by Sam Raimi. How does it feel to be able to step back, but still help usher in this new era?

Well, fantastic. Because, look, we can work with these directors. We can support them in the ways that we’ve always wanted to be supported. We can punish them in the ways that we should have been punished. We can hire actors that are good and well behaved, because I know what to look for. And when we get an actor, we can tell them how to best use their time and not party. We’ve learned a lot over the years, so we can share and torment these directors into making a good movie. There’s definitely a place for us. We’ll be there behind the scenes pulling the strings on these little monkeys.

How does it compare so far to the development process for Fede Álvarez’s 2013 Evil Dead? Or is it too early to say?

It’s too early, and every director’s different. Fede was very specific. I’d never worked with Fede, so I wanted to make sure he could work with actors. I sat in for only one day during auditions, and I could see how he would see a take, work with the actors, and the second take was better. After I saw two or three of those, I was like, OK — I’m outta here. This guy knows how to get a better take out of an actor. Done. That’s a huge accomplishment. And he was already very astute with special effects.

What you have to do is find out what the director’s strength is and encourage that, and find out what their weaknesses are and either fix that or discourage that. Some directors are great with actors but they suck at special effects, some are great at special effects but they don’t know how to talk to actors. It’s a really delicate dance. The modern movie is very delicate, because the modern movie has way more special effects now.

In Captain Marvel, even the cat was CGI most of the time he was onscreen.

Lemme tell ya, I’m gonna make a bold statement here.

The Irishman has more digital effects than the most recent Marvel movie, but you just don’t notice. Which why I call B.S. on Marty Scorsese calling out the Marvel movies. It’s like, bullshit! You just used more digital effects than a Marvel movie, and you’re telling me that’s cinema but the other one isn’t?

But the point is, I don’t buy it. I mean, I can’t wait to watch that movie, because I’m gonna be driven insane by Robert DeNiro at 42, Robert DeNiro at 47, Robert DeNiro at 31. It’s just gonna drive me insane, because I’m gonna look at it and I’m gonna be looking at dead doll’s eyes and, you know, they’re gonna do a good job, but they’re all gonna look like sharks.

Now that you’re no longer beholden to the intense schedule of TV production, are there any projects that you’re able to look at that weren’t an option before?

Well, one of two things can happen. I finally told my agent, “OK,” because I had to pass on some things in the last couple years that were decent projects, because I had a bunch of other random stuff going. If you open up your schedule, you can allow for stuff like that. All of 2020 is currently completely open. I have zero bookings for the first time in probably 15 years. I like booking my year — I like knowing what’s going on — but, in this case I’m gonna leave work open to fall off the truck from my agency.

But I also have a TV project that I’m pushing and a feature film project. I will go back under the TV knife under the right conditions, and I have a project that I would do that for. “Under the knife” meaning to sign a contract.

The beauty of it is with these limited series now, no one has to commit to shit these days. One season, two seasons, three seasons, you know. So, we’ll see what happens. I just wrote a feature film — a political satire — and I wanna make that next, so I’m in the process of shopping it. I’m hat in hand right now.

You’ve been in the director’s chair, both for Hercules: The Legendary Journeys and Xena: Warrior Princess as well as your horror comedy My Name is Bruce. Would you be interested in directing again, possibly for the movie you just wrote?

All the projects that I’m currently gonna be involved with now, moving forward, I’ll be directing in some way. Raising money for low budget movies — I have as much experience as anybody now, so there’s no reason to look for anybody else. I’ll just direct myself.

It’s time for the new sheriff to come into town.

Another thing that makes Evil Dead so compelling is the long-running team behind it. Even if it’s not Evil Dead, would you be down to act in future projects with Sam and Ted Raimi, or your Ash vs Evil Dead costars?

Well, I would be happy to work with any of them again, but I just can’t say. Sam, who knows? Sam’s off making these 10-minute shorts. I forget the name of the company, but everyone’s making shorts now, so go figure.

Kind of like YouTube — getting on that train?

Yeah, I don’t know. It’s all new to me. I’m sticking with the true-blue formats for now.

If you had the opportunity to reprise any other characters that you’ve played previously, like fan favorite Brisco County, Jr., would you be interested? Or do you want to focus on all new material and characters?

New stuff is always my favorite, but I would definitely do Brisco Rides Again, and I would definitely do more Burn Notice. We’re sort of circling the building now with Burn Notice. Maybe it’s time to save the world again. The world needs us.

You recently updated your memoir Hail to the Chin with a new “Requiem for Ash,” and are making appearances tied to the book’s rerelease. How do you integrate tours and press appearances without blowing out your schedule, and how do they differ from press junkets you do for film and TV?

The beauty of working with a company is when it’s time to do press, they’ve really got it down. I saved a bunch of my itineraries from Ash vs Evil Dead just because of how ridiculous they were, so I can look back and show my grandchildren “this was a press day in New York City.” So, you really got the support. The only difference is when you do low budget stuff, or even books, you’re kind of on your own, and it’s way more down-home. It’s Twitter, it’s Facebook, it’s Facebook ads or whatever. It’s no national TV — nothin’. It’s a whole different ball game.

You know, I’m a one-man band. I’ll miss a few interviews because I forgot or didn’t put it in my schedule or whatever. Someone’ll call, I’ll go, “What do you want?” They’re like, “We have a phoner.” I go, “Really? Ok, great.” This one I happened to remember. We do what we can.

A Conversation with Bruce Campbell and Screening of Army of Darkness: $29.50-$125, 8 p.m. Friday, October 25, Aztec Theatre, 104 N. St. Mary’s St., (210) 812-4355, theaztectheatre.com.

#Bruce Campbell

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readbythestarlight · 6 years

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c2e35

Ashley is gone again? Wehhh…

Sam’s ads are just… something else

Oh right, time for the elemental to fuck Algar up

Fjord this is dangerous don’t mess with the water genie dude to much plz

LOL Cad just like “OH GOD” when he sees Fjord’s creepy monster

“I would just like to throw my hat in the ring and say that I think he needs to die here, ja.” Cold, Caleb.

“A gortle.”

—

“I’m going to say I’m doing it too but I’m not really going to do it.”

Okay what kind of cool reward do they get for freeing two genies?

“I send Frumpkin, holding his breathing, shlooping up onto his chest. ‘He’s hungry, and so am I’.” lol Liam what.

Fjord taking on his face and mimicking him is the fucking BEST THING I’m dying

They are fucking this poor guy up xD

Decomposing his hand daaaaaamn you guys

“I just start backing away. ‘You guys are fucked up’.” lol Sam

This is the best thing

“AH turn undead!”

Fjord banish your poor shadow dude.

Nobody knows where they are and Matt is like OKAY GUYS THIS IS WHERE WE ARE

Fjord and Caleb’s obsession with the tower is so amusing to me

Jester afraid that her mom will be disappointed in her I CRY

Also I love Marion so much <3

Caleb is just like “tiME TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT FROM FJORD AND HIS BALL”

Jester that mask is not a good disguise darling

Oh god you guys this is a NICE ESTABLISHMENT control your pets

I wanna marry Marion. The Gentleman doesn’t deserve her anyway.

Uhhh they should take a rest and get their spells back before they head to wherever

He gonna stab that guard

Okay never mind he just bribed him

Mmm shifty figures, wonderful

lol Tracy is back

Tracy is the best

Fuck DODGE THE ARROWS BEAU DODGE

Oh daaaaamn look at that cool map!!

Matt you make the best stuff

Hmmm… some less than excellent initiative rolls

This is already off to such a bad bad start and they know it

What are they burning

They try to do the math before deciding it doesn’t matter Yasha has just totally eviscerated the guy xD

“ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma” I heard you back there Taliesin (I don’t know if he was doing the man-ray thing or not but I like to think so)

Caleb: “I heard them say burn it so I’m gonna buRN IT AND EVERYONE IN IT”

“This is not a moral group” lol Matt that is the understatement of the season

They’re gonna get awayyyyy

Do NOT jump on the boat

Beau is on the boat. Why is she on the boat. Why aren’t they smart.

They’re gonna commandeer the boat

“Vax is back, baby!” 40x40x40

Oh wonderful the guards are coming

This is just. A disaster.

Oh no, Travis and Liam are plotting and Liam had an “oh wait!” look

Okay but what about Cad he’s off hiding somewhere don’t leave him

Laura’s right this is THE dumbest thing they’ve ever done

Oh god Caleb

fire is a horrible idea

ohhhh okay

I see what he and Travis were planning now

“The AC of wood” lol

Disaster.

“Has no choice but to assume that you’re destroying a dock and stealing a ship now… because you are.”

Also Cad is still not there right I’m concerned

Cad why not make yourself look like one of the guards

Marius is the only even remotely intelligent one

Oh ffs

Hnnn okay come on Jester

Oh good boy Caleb. First time I’ve approved of suggestion probably.

Okay do they have healing potions or anything because I’m really scared for Fjord right now. I know he’s safe downstairs but even so. Jester has no more heals and Cad isn’t there.

Cad just sneaking around all chill like. He’s the most adorable boy.

Niiiiice shoving the boat free

Don’t leave yet tho guys what about Caduceus?

FJORD STAY DOWN

Guysssss Caduceus

TRAVIS

TRAVIS NO

fucking knocks himself out I’m fucking crying

Okay thank god

Poor Caduceus just chilling alone in the water

These poor guards are going to have PTSD

Hnnnn I’m really upset about Caduceus

Matt, sing-songy: “It wasn’t a very specific suggestion :D”

FrickleFrackle they’re calling reinforcements

These poor guards omg

Poor Cad is gonna be cranky and unhappy y’all go fucking get him

FUCK

IF HE GETS EATEN BY A SHARK

Or wait wasn’t there something about a sea monster….

Save Caduceus

Thank you, Fjord

Matt is so delighted by everything that is happening

Thank god they finally got Cad onto the ship

He’s a waterlogged and grumpy boy and I don’t blame him lol

I want them to keep the ship and just be pirates from now on

lol he dead

The episode had absolutely better be called “It Wasn’t My Intention”

or “The AC of Wood” I’ll accept that too

Awww yeah Fjord having some momentary calm out on the ocean

lol they left Nugget with Mom

“The Mist”

Ooooooh damn Fjord you clever sneaky boy

I can’t believe I didn’t trust him. I mean he’s still shifty as fuck. But I love him.

Captain Vanticai. The Squall Eater. The Swavain Islands.

Fuck I really want this to be a whole sea faring thing.

20 platinum nice + some gold and silver.

They’re all being very mean. Like damn guys. xD

“Well I’m glad we killed a half dozen people to know… what we already knew.” How is Nott like… the least awful of all of them?

Oh noooo she lost Professor Thadeus

I hope he leads a happy owl life

And I hope Marion gets some comfort from Nugget since Jester is now just… gone.

Good ep. Silly. Fun. And god I hope we have some ocean adventures.

#emi watches critical role #critical role #critical role spoilers

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lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean · 3 years

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La Pomme ~ Chapter 12

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 5,500

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

George was lounging in the warm bath water, trying to use breathing exercises to clear her mind and calm herself. It had been a long day, capping off a long almost-month inside the Supernatural Universe. There were so many questions she couldn't answer and she wished she could turn her brain off; focus on anything else.

"George?" She heard Dean's muffled call from the other side of the bathroom door. "You OK in there?"

"Yea," She answered quietly. "Just humiliated," She added with an eye roll.

"Don't sweat it," Came his unusually sympathetic reply. "We've all been there, or somewhere similar… or somewhere worse," He added off handedly, taking another bite of pie. It occurred to him suddenly that the two of them were alone and Dean had a thought. After a moment's hesitation, he swallowed his bite of pie and called timidly, "George?"

"Yea?" She responded curiously, her voice raised slightly to compensate for the sound barrier. There was such a long pause with no answer that she wondered if it had just been her imagination. As she was about to call out again, she heard him finally.

"Can I ask you something?" Came an inquiry so quiet she almost didn't hear it. He sounded uncharacteristically troubled and… nervous?

"Yea, sure," She answered gently.

"What do you know about Michael?"

"Michael who?" Came her quick, confused reply.

"The archangel? Asshole that's been wearing me as a suit the last few weeks?" She was suddenly reminded of the fact that she was living inside of a TV show and it stunned her into silence. "That Michael? Has he not been on the show or...?" The nervous huff in his reply shook her out of her stupor. She realized this must be a hard topic for him. Unfortunately, though, she didn't have any insight to give.

"Oh fuck, right, Michael," She swallowed and gathered her thoughts before replying with a sigh, "I'm sorry, Dean, I don't really know much. I hadn't started this season yet," She finished apologetically.

"Thanks," Came a sarcastic reply.

She frowned and defended, "Look, I have a life, dude! I get behind, I can't always tune in every Thursday! Trust me, no one is more sorry about that than me right now. Maybe if I had, I could have done something to prevent this insane situation." A heavy sigh dotted the end of her sentence pointedly. Then she had a strange, disconcerting thought:

Would you really have prevented this from happening if you had a choice?

The thought startled her and she guiltily refused to answer herself.

A welcome distraction for her was noticing the silence that followed her answer to Dean; George could tell he was still concerned. Reaching over and grabbing the door handle, she cracked it just enough to spy Dean sitting on the edge of the mattress, holding a take out box. He glanced at her almost imperceptibly and she could tell her eyes weren't exactly welcome, so she turned her head away but left the door open.

"Here's what I've heard/seen on accident," She started, pausing to think and then saying carefully, "He comes back somehow," She heard him bristle but kept going, "And you do something to trap him. Some kind of box… or maybe a walk-in freezer?" She was trying to organize the spoilers she'd seen and identify what was related to Michael and what wasn't. "I know that doesn't make a lot of sense and I'm sorry, but that's all I've got."

Dean sighed and shrugged, "It's alright, George. I'm just… feeling lost. Was hoping for some clues, but it's not on you to save my bacon." George gave a wry smile to the bath water and sat quietly for a moment.

Finally she turned her head to look at him and asked, "You want to know what I do know, Dean?"

Slowly, he turned to look at her with an intrigued eyebrow, "I don't know, do I?"

With an amused eye roll she spoke, "I know this--right now--this story line with alternate Michael? It's two seasons behind where you and your brother end up in my reality. And--at least as far as I remember--this alternate Michael isn't a starring role for very long."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at her in consideration, "Meaning?"

She shrugged and offered, "Meaning, you figure this out. Like you always do. You will figure this out and you will beat Michael and be onto the next big bad, whomever that is. Which, don't even ask because I really have no idea. Haven't watched those seasons at all yet… I think there's one episode where you meet Scooby Doo?"

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes, telling her matter-of-factly, "We already did that."

"No shit?! That already happened?" When he nodded in confirmation George 'ughed' loudly, rolling her eyes, "Damnit, that must have been one of the ones I just watched. What was it like?! Was Shaggy really high? Was Daphne really hot? Was Scooby just adorable?!"

Dean chuckled and answered, "Uh, yes, hell yes, and duh! It's Scooby Doo! Of course he's adorable!"

"Was it weird to be animated?"

He shrugged a little, "Eh, kin-"

She cut him off with a gasp, "Wait! Was all of you animated, like.. did you have all your-"

He shook his head and proclaimed, "That's none of your business!"

"Sorry!" George apologized defensively, then begged, "Tell me you and Daphne-"

"George!" Dean admonished with feigned offense, "I don't kiss and tell."

She scoffed and guessed, "Struck out, huh?"

Dean frowned and simply said, "Her and Fred are an item. I didn't want to break that up," to which George laughed in disbelief.

"Yea, I got it. I think things are starting to come back to me now," George teased him and he shrugged in defeat, unable to deny the fact that he definitely struck out with Daphne. When her laughter died away, she looked at him again and said, "I'm sorry I can't be more of a help. I know, I know, it's not my job to save you but that doesn't mean I enjoy not being able to." They were quiet again for a minute and she sighed, "If I could just call Ryan."

"Who's he?"

"She is my Winchester Wiki," She explained very matter of factly and Dean stared at her with an annoyed expression. With a smile she continued, "She's my friend and she's also a fan of the show; Got me back into it later in life and, well lets just say, she pays closer attention than I do. She'd be able to help you with this whole Michael problem without breaking a sweat. Oh and she's gorgeous," George tossed on and Dean raised a curious eyebrow. She caught his curious expression and asked, "You don't happen to have a phone with trans-universal long distance coverage by chance?"

Dean snorted and shook his head in bemused defeat, "Not on me." He was frustrated that she didn't have more insight on Michael, though somewhat comforted by the fact that-at least in her reality-he wasn't dead yet. That was something, he guessed.

"So," George smirked at him, glee in her eyes, "American's Next Top Model, hmm?"

"What, are you surprised? A house full of attractive models?" Dean gave her an obvious expression.

She shark-mouthed understandably and nodded, "Fair point. Allison cycle 12? Ooof. Hello!"

Dean considered her assessment for a moment, then nodded agreeably but offered, "Mercedes, cycle 2."

George had to remember who that was for a minute but then nodded emphatically, "Yes! Gorgeous and she was good. She ended up top three, right?"

They compared notes for a few minutes, until he finished the last bite of pie in the container he was holding. Then he whipped out his phone and muttered in her direction, "Finish your bath. I'm gonna text Sam for more towels."

When Sam got the text he snagged a pile from a housekeeping cart on their way back to George's room. They had also stopped by the car and brought up a few bags, per his request. Dean carefully handed George the towels through the bathroom door, so as to not accidentally see any bits, and then turned to Sam for a room update.

"Bad news: no adjoining rooms. The best I could do was five doors down. Even more bad news: only one queen bed." Sam held up the room key with a feigned wince. "But listen, I don't think we should leave George alone, so I'll just crash on the floor in here and you can take the room."

"Wow, what a sacrifice," Dean chuckled knowingly at his brother and snatched the key from him. "Shouldn't we have Cas handle it, though?"

"No, why?" Sam protested a little too fast.

"Because he doesn't need sleep. He can keep an eye on the little deserter. Make sure she doesn't do it again?"

Sam frowned, "She's not going to. And if she does, I think I can handle it. How is she supposed to get any sleep with Cas staring at her all night?"

"I don't stare at people when they sleep," Cas interrupted. With a huff he clarified, "I stare at the wall."

Dean looked at the offended angel and shrugged, "It's not that bad. He's quiet. Honestly, it's kind of comforting when you think about it." There was an awkward pause and Dean added, "Sometimes he'll sing for you if you ask nice-"

"Dean," Castiel admonished him for sharing something so intimate. Cas only did that for him.

Sam looked between the two of their sheepish faces and then assured sarcastically, "Yea, a singing angel staring at the wall in the dark. Totally not creepy."

George came out of the bathroom wrapped in the clean towels from Dean. She was now looking a little sheepish as well, "Hey, sorry about earlier. All of it. I jus-"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Dean held up a hand to her. "Save it for the morning. You can spill your guts over breakfast. We couldn't get adjoining rooms, so Cas and I will be just down the hall; Sam will stay with you tonight. On the floor," He said pointedly with a 'behave' look toward Sam, who rolled his eyes in irritation. George nodded, barely listening, and let out a tired sigh.

Then she had a startling thought and groaned, "Shit. I'm going to have to put those crusty clothes back on."

Dean grinned proudly, "You're not the only one with surprise gifts." He took the bags that Sam and Cas had retrieved from the car and set them down on the wooden table.

"What's this?" She asked, grabbing one of the handles and peeking into the bag where she spotted the Friends logo hoodie she'd picked out at Target. "My clothes? My deodorant?! Oh Dean! Thank you so much! I would kiss you but you have pie like… all over your face, but thank you!" As she dug into the bags to search for the PJs, Dean looked questioningly at Sam and Cas who nodded in confirmation.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Dean grumbled, moving over to the sink to wipe his face. Sam shrugged in feigned innocence, laughing internally at his idiot brother.

"How did you get all the clothes I picked?" She asked, impressed.

"We got lucky; Sam happened to hear one of the employees complaining about a nutty woman who'd run from the store like a bat outta hell and abandoned all her stuff," Dean gave her a pointed stare.

She looked first at Sam, and then Cas and Dean, with immense gratitude, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Her spirits had been lifted a little. The fresh underwear alone was going to make her feel a thousand times better.

"They mentioned they'd already put back one or two items when we asked about it, so hopefully we got the right replacements." Sam warned her.

"I don't care! I can apply deodorant and brush my teeth; I'm sure I can put together at least one clean outfit with what's here! So I'm hap-" She suddenly stopped and froze, having discovered a strange item in one of the bags. "Wha?" In one swift motion she pulled out a pale pink lace bodysuit and held it up for them to see. With an annoyed, yet curious expression she looked at Dean and asked, "Someone care to explain this?"

Dean held his hands up in innocence and Sam inspected the garment in confusion.

"It looked nice on the mannequin and the Target associate who helped me pick it out said it was bold, yet feminine. Perfect for the new woman in my life," Castiel happily explained, sounding as though he was reciting someone else's words.

George blushed a bit, looking at Sam and Dean like 'is he for real?', unsure how to respond. Both men shrugged unhelpfully, avoiding eye contact with the item she was still holding, and remained quiet. Cas seemed so proud, she didn't want to ruin it.

Finally, she stuttered out, "Wow. OK, well… thanks. Very thoughtful of you, Castiel…"

"If you wanted to provide me with your exact measurements, the sales associate offered to help me pick out a 'matching bra and panty se'-"

"OK, why don't we quit while we're ahead, eh Buddy?" Dean grabbed up four of the remaining takeout boxes and motioned for Cas to do the same. He then reached for the pink, lacey material in George's hand, jokingly trying to take it from her.

She swatted him with it and held it out of his reach, "Hey! You're the old woman in his life."

He couldn't help but laugh in response, though he shook his head in annoyance, and then headed out the door with the angel in tow, "See you crazy kids in the morning!"

When they left George looked at Sam curiously, "Is it wrong that I kind of want to give Cas 'my measurements' and then watch him try to pick out lingerie?"

Sam smirked in amusement but nodded, "Yes."

"Oh, you're no fun," George chuckled and tossed the teddy back into the bag.

"Perhaps the wrong audience?" He suggested with a chuckle.

"Yea, that's fair," She agreed. While she rifled through the bags and grabbed out some black PJ pants, a light blue, short sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of underwear, Sam watched her quietly. To say he was relieved to find her safe and unharmed was an understatement. He'd also been thrilled by her admission that she liked it here, but, like Cas, he was curious what it meant. And what it could mean for him.

Does she like it enough to stay maybe? He cursed at himself for even thinking it.

"Uh, George?" He finally pushed through the nerves and forced himself to speak.

"Hmm?" She responded curiously, not looking up from her bags just yet.

He tried to adopt a nonchalant, yet comforting tone and asked, "When you were saying earlier that you felt… comfortable here? Like you belong? What did you mean?"

Pausing her rummaging, she glanced over at him, caught off guard by the question. Truthfully, she didn't know if she could answer it. She was quiet for a long time, trying to decide how deep she wanted to get into this.

Finally, she turned to him and said, "Back home I… I've always had this strange, out of place feeling. Major dysphoria my whole life and kinda irritatingly painful too, like... full body restless leg syndrome. I've always imagined it similar to how a trans individual might experience feeling like they were born in the wrong body, ya know?" Sam made a noise of confirmation and she continued, "Except, my body is fine--well, it's not the cause of this problem anyway," they chuckled together.

"It's more… my whole being was wrong somehow, like I didn't belong. Anywhere. I had trouble connecting with people and making friends; even my own family seemed so different from me. I felt like I was on a different wavelength than other people, and not in a snooty, I'm-better-than-anybody way but like a sad, I-have-hardly-any-friends-because-I-can't-relate way, so it sucked. Hard. My family wasn't much help; though they tried to help by testing me for every 'disorder' you could think of. Nada. I was just… inexplicably different and no one could explain why. I could barely explain what I was feeling. They--my parents--were surprisingly relieved when I came out after college. For them, my 'struggle with the fact that I liked boys and girls throughout my childhood' explained everything away so perfectly, that they wrote it off right then and there. But it never had to do with that; my sexuality was nothing I ever struggled with, I just didn't feel like I needed to tell them. And since I'm still queer in this reality..." She trailed off her point, allowing him to fill in the blanks, with a chuckle.

Sam nodded with a sympathetic smile, clearly reading on her face how painful her experience had been. Gently he asked, "And now, being here, i-in this reality, you feel...?"

Her head tilted to the side and, looking at him wide-eyed, she sighed deeply, "Now? God, now, I feel… normal? Or, at least what I can only assume normal people feel like." Suddenly her voice was heavy with deep emotional relief, "I don't know how to explain it… and I don't know why, maybe I don't even care why, but I feel so good for the first time in forever. Emotionally, spiritually, physically... The constant restless buzzing is mercifully just gone. Sometimes I think I feel it again--that terrible, agonizing discomfort--and my heart skips a beat. But then my brain registers that it really is gone and I still feel good! And that feeling is almost better than the best sex I've ever had."

Sam shark-mouthed in surprised appreciation and teased kindly, "So, I guess you did know how to explain it?"

George let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding with a chuckle and nodded, "Yea, I guess so. Honestly, I'm a little scared to go back," A few tears that had welled up as she was proselytizing spilled down her cheeks uncontrollably and she reached up to wipe them away, blushing lightly.

As George contemplated her admission in the silence, the guilt she felt over leaving them earlier was back. Why the hell did she leave if she'd felt so damn good here? She also felt like a stupid, impulsive child running away from the only people who seemed to care about her, at least insofar as they didn't want her to die. She felt especially guilty that Sam had stuck his neck out for her with Dean and she'd basically stomped on it.

Sam stood awkwardly, watching her with an empathetic grimace. He nearly leapt over to comfort her but… Christ, was this situation complicated. Maybe if things were different, maybe if she wasn't safer in her old reality, maybe if they hadn't handcuffed her to a chair and interrogated her, maybe if she hadn't spent the last few hours crying through an existential crisis, maybe if he wasn't terrified she would push him away in disgust? Maybe if she wasn't practically naked right now... maybe then he wouldn't feel so torn about walking over and wrapping her up into a bear hug.

After a moment of nervously wringing her fingers, George met his eyes and took a deep breath, apologizing, "I'm sorry I ran, Sam. I don't even really know why I-"

"Hey, you don't have to explain anything to me," Sam shook his head definitively, taking a few small steps toward her, now within arms reach. "I understand what you're going through-sort of, and you know, in reverse but still-I get it. Don't worry about it," He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it, "I'm just happy I found you."

At his touch, her heart skipped a beat and she felt her whole body flush, goosebumps forming on her skin. The sincerity in his voice and the look in his eyes nearly made her physically swoon. Was that an admission of something or just a subtextless statement of forgiveness? Staring into his eyes made her feel like she was on the downswing of the world's tallest roller coaster. She had to force herself to break eye contact before she could breathe again. He squeezed her hand once more before slowly letting go and as he did she had a realization.

"Thank you." Mustering up a smile through her butterflies, she clumsily grabbed the clothing she needed. "Anyway, I'm suddenly very, very aware of the fact that I'm naked-oh and have been since the three of you got here," She realized, blushing again. Jesus, I took a bath with Dean Winchester in the next room. Her legs felt like jelly as she tried to remain cool, calm, collect, walking toward the bathroom, "Uh, so, I should probably go put some clothes on, now."

Sam nodded understandingly and said with an earnest expression, "Hopefully not on my account." When George froze mid step and jerked her head towards him, burning red from head to toe, he faltered, "Er-uh-I just meant, you don't need to feel uncomfortable naaak-err-without-I mean you aren't making me uncomfortable while-without… clothes." George was relaxed by his shy, adorable stuttering, although at this point 'shy' surprised her. He'd been just as bold back at the bunker, more than once. He sighed and gave her a meek smile, "Uh, somehow this sounded less creepy in my head."

With a chuckle she put him out of his misery, "Relax, Ravenclaw, I understand. It's not on your account, it's on mine," She assured him, to which he nodded thankfully, a relieved expression on his face. She turned back to the door of the bathroom, pushing it open and stepping in.

When she exited the bathroom again, now fully clothed, the only light in the room was now the small, soft light above the bed. At first, the room seemed empty and George wondered if she'd scared Sam away with all her emotions. She was about to call out for him when she finally noticed a pair of big old feet sticking out from along the side of the bed near the window.

"Sam? What are you doing?" She walked over and found him lying on the ground on top of one solitary blanket.

"Just relaxing." He shrugged boyishly.

"On the floor?"

He clarified, "On my bed."

"Sorry, this tissue paper is supposed to be your bed?" She asked for clarification.

"Standard issue motel comforter. And, yea, it's perfect," He reached down on his side and pulled the right side of the blanket over himself. "See, you just fold the top over and it becomes a mattress and a blanket in one!" He seemed genuinely pleased about his makeshift accommodations, as though he was sharing a trade secret with her.

"Wow," she tried to sound impressed, "clever." She hopped onto the bed above him complimenting a bit sarcastically, "Quite the boy scout, aren't you?"

His head jerked up to look at her. There it was again. Another line direct from his dream falling familiarly from her lips. Hearing the pet name conjured images in his mind of the dream woman saying it. It felt identical.

But, how? That dream wasn't real. It was just Gabriel. George is a different woman, it's just a coin-

"Hey, can I ask you something?" George cut into his internal panicking with a soft voice suddenly.

"Yep?" He tried to seem nonchalant.

"Well… OK, I'm just going to say this because fuck it, I have nothing to lose at this point," She wasn't looking at him but sensed his nervous curiosity right away. Ignoring her own butterflies, she said, "Seems to me that the Sam I met at the bunker would have committed to that earlier 'unintended' innuendo." She raised a sideways brow at him, checking out of the corner of her eye to make sure he understood what she was referencing. When she could tell he did, she finally turned her head to meet his eyes and with a shy smile asked, "So, what gives?"

Sam considered her question for a minute; he wasn't sure where to start. Finally he folded his hands in his lap and shrugged sadly, "Actually, uh-about that, I feel like I owe you an apology."

Oooh, that doesn't sound good, George tried to hide her grimace. Her stomach started twisting in painful knots. What's that you were saying about nothing to lose?

"Por que?" She was trying to stave off a cold sweat.

"For… Well, I guess, how about handcuffing you to a chair and interrogating you for starters? For allowing you to be sexually assaulted by a demon? For letting you risk your life to come with us on this hunt? For hitting on you when you were obviously going through a difficult time? Take your pick."

She let out a breath of surprised relief and smiled curiously, "Oh… well in that case, let me just say: one, your brother was the one who handcuffed me to the chair--and it was understandable. Two, it's not your responsibility to protect me from the likes of Tim. He wasn't the first creep and he won't be the last." He seemed thoroughly unsatisfied by that response, so she tried to lighten it up by continuing, "And three, you didn't let me come on the hunt. Clearly I strong armed you." A tiny snort of amusement emitted from him and she smirked, then added curiously, "And, lastly, just to be clear… you were hitting on me?"

He huffed in humiliation, running his hand over his face, unable to look at her, "God, I feel like a real jackass." A blackhole was growing in the pit of his stomach. "Your world was literally turned upside down and you needed help not--not some weird, bunker dwelling asshole making advances."

"Uh, Sam," At first George laughed; the absurdity of the hottest man on television apologizing for hitting on her struck her funny bone. However, when it registered just how sober the tone of his voice was, the reality of the situation hit her again like a ton of bricks. She realized that part of her was still anticipating Jared to break at some point and reveal all of this had been an elaborate set up. It hadn't occurred to her yet that, for Sam, this was all real. His sincerity touched her.

She swallowed down the rest of her laughter, along with her typical smartass response, and smiled kindly, "Thank you for the apology and I appreciate the thought, I really do, but it's not necessary. You had no idea, considering I lied to you--which I'm also sorry about if I haven't already said that." That last part came out quickly upon realizing she might not have apologized yet. He gave her a kind smile and waved her off gently, so she continued, "So, please don't feel guilty. And I'll let you know if your advances are ever unwanted. Promise."

The deja vu hit him again so hard it knocked the wind out of him. His eyes snapped up to meet hers from his spot on the floor. A blush creeped across her cheeks as he stared curiously. She was back on the roller coaster, butterflies tumbling in her gut, but forced herself to keep eye contact, allowing him to conduct his search. She wasn't sure what he was so determinedly looking for but she hoped he was finding it.

A mix of emotions wrestled within him at the moment. Though he knew logically it made no sense, he was having a harder and harder time denying that he knew this woman, intimately--in every sense of the word. But, how?! And, holy shit, was she saying what he hoped she was saying? He could feel his hopes skyrocketing while he struggled to hold them down in self-preservation.

A huge yawn broke out on her face, ruining the moment and snapping Sam out of his stupor.

"Whoa, Jesus," She laughed a bit, surprised by the force of the yawn.

"Time for bed?" Sam tried to mask his disappointment at the disruption. She nodded agreeably.

"Listen, could you at least take a pillow, please? One pillow? For me?" Pulling the sheets back, so she could climb in, she yanked a pillow out and tossed it over the edge of the bed. She heard it land with an audible POOMPF right on his face. "Oops," she said with a snicker, reaching over to turn off the lamp on the table while he adjusted the pillow behind his head.

Sliding up under the covers, she settled down on her back. The deafening silence in the room allowed her mind to wander freely while she stared up at the ceiling. After a moment she rolled onto her side and peeked over the edge of the bed, surprised to find Sam's beautiful hazel eyes staring intensely back at her in the dark.

She whispered, "Sam?"

"Yeah?" Came a soft, low rumble, as he continued to stare back.

"How did you find me?" She wondered.

"Uh…" He turned away from her quickly and shifted nervously. He felt compelled to be honest with her; luckily the shroud of darkness made him bolder than he would have been in the harsh light of day. "We tracked you through the cab company mostly. Lost your trail at the diner and then… I'm not really sure. We were driving around and when I saw the sign for the motel I… uh, just had a strong feeling that you were here?"

"...uh huh." His answer surprised her. So much so, that she had to break eye contact and lay back down. She stared at the ceiling in shock.

What did that mean?

Though even as she asked herself the question, she had a feeling that she already knew. It was a feeling that didn't exactly put her at ease; raising more questions than it answered. She mulled it over for a few moments, before deciding she was too tired to pull at that thread.

She finally shrugged a little and said, "Good instincts?"

"Yeah… that must be it," He trailed off, having a nearly identical conversation with himself, and they fell silent again.

"Sam?" She said, choking back a nervous laughter. When she heard him respond with a curious grunt she hesitated. Finally, she blurted in a quiet, definitive whisper, "Samgirl. No question." When she could hear the smile behind another, practically silent--as though he was trying to hide it--grunt of confirmation she smiled wide, adding quickly, "And just so you know, that is the first and last time you will ever hear me utter that silly term of my own volition."

"Understood," He murmured in a teasingly serious tone, making her laugh quietly.

With another big yawn, she forced herself to stop engaging. Before rolling over, she tossed over her shoulder, "And don't tell Dean. He'll be devastated and we have a job to do." The sound of his joyful chuckling was the last thing she heard before sleep overtook her.

#sam winchester x original female character #sam winchester x original character #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic series #spn fanfiction

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standing-in-the-rain29 · 3 years

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Interview Tag

Rules: Answer the following questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better.

I was tagged by @ladyknight-keladry ! Thanks for tagging me, though I fear my answers will leave much to be desired 😬😂 But let’s do it anyway! Here we go:

Nickname: I have a few. The most common is Jess. My mom calls me snugglebug, and my little sister likes to call me muffin-head lol

Pronouns: She/her

Star Sign: Aquarius

Height: 5’ 4”

Current Time: 10:38 pm ... I really need to go to sleep since I have work in the morning. Oh well!

When is your birthday: January 29

Favorite Band/Group/Solo Artist (I grouped these together): BTS, American Authors, Imagine Dragons, Red, Halestorm, Disturbed, Godsmack, Bad Wolves, Daughtry, Demi Lovato, Alesia Cara, The Score, Ava Max, Sam Smith, Daya, Adam Lambert, Halsey, GIMS, Tiziano Ferro, and many more lol My tastes vary with my daydreams at the moment :)

Song Stuck in my Head: My Head & My Heart by Ava Max. Specifically one line: “My mind’s got a mind, mind, mind of it’s own right now and it makes me hate me”

Last Movie Watched: X2 My mom, little sister, and I are watching the X-Men series, so, yeah. We already did Marvel, so we’re making our way through this series before moving on again lol

Last Show Binged: WandaVision. I waited until the entire season was done to watch it, and I binged all of then in two nights 😂 I’m thinking about waiting for TFATWS to finish too before watching? But ughhhhh it’s tough waiting! I love Bucky.

When Did You Creat Your Blog: July 2, 2013. OMG So long ago! My posts were ... interesting back then lol I went through phases, which I guess is t any different! But at least they are healthier?

Last Thing Googled: Toshiba tv reseating cables ... our tv has a wide blue line going down it, and I was trying to figure out how to fix it 😩😩 I’m gonna have to finagle and try things I’m it sure I’m good at. So ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it’ll be interesting.

Other Blogs: Nope! I’ve only had this one! Cuz I’m weird lol

Who Chose Your URL: Me!! I couldn’t for the life of me figure it out back then and randomly chose it because ... rain is awesome lol Haven’t changed it because I don’t like change.

Do you get asks: Sometimes? Not often, which is both good and meh. Meh because I do like the attention, I think. Good because I am so awkward! My mood changes a lot between hyper/confident so I say whatever and don’t care what people think (right now for instance) to overthinking/low self esteem where I don’t know what to say, don’t want to say something wrong, get an answer wrong, and so on. It’s rough. My mental health is a slippery slope. Whelp.

How many people do you follow: 167

How many people follow you: 186!!! Holy cannoli guys! Thank you 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗 I honestly don’t care if people follow me or not. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like the idea of making friends on here, but this blog is for me. My safe space where only one person in the world knows me in real life (and she’s never on lol), so yup.

Lucky number: uhhhh 29?

Instrument: Hah! That’s funny. Me? Play an instrument? Nah. Took a piano class in college as an elective ... played by ear and got by, but don’t remember any of it!

Currently wearing: I’m in bed, about to sleep, so my pajamas. Which is basically a huge shirt lol Not that you needed to know that ... I may delete later tbh

Dream job: Man ... I’ve spent most of my life trying to figure this shit out. All the stress. But if money wasn’t an option ... something with the ocean. With animals. Idk what exactly, or where, but I seriously love the ocean. It’s calm yet unforgiving. I don’t live by an ocean, but I would love to. Just ... not where hurricanes hit lol because fuck that.

Dream trip: Shark diving with great white sharks :) Or something my little sister wants, and therefore spend time with her and my family while having fun. Both are good.

Favorite food: CHOCOLATE! I love chocolate. No lie. So good. Pizza, macaroni and cheese, spaghetti, salad (yummmmmy) ... basically carbs, cheese, chocolate, and some healthy things lol

Favorite Song: Why. How could you? Why put me in this situation! My mind went completely blank! It changes constantly. Depends on many things. I’ll give you my top 5 songs from last year on Spotify: ON by BTS, What About Us by P!nk, Ya Habibi by Mohamed Ramadan (totally found this on accident while looking for Nicky/Joe Old Guard songs and omg yesssss!), Daechwita by Agust D, and Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi.

Top three fictional universes you’d like to live it: Sooo. I have literally no idea??? Are we talking movies, books, shows, all of the above?? Ahhh. Guys. This is stressful. It shouldn’t be, right? Idk. I’m going to skip because I have no clue, and it’s stressing me out. Sorry?

Alright! That was a wild ride. Now it’s time for me tag people. If any of my followers want to do this, go for it! And for those I tag, you don’t have to do it! Here are my tags: @alona-marinelli , @spookydefendordreamer , @justagirlwithhercat , and @just-a-rather-ace-ravenpuff . So like. I’m tired. And tagging isn’t hard normally, but right now it is, so sorry if I forgot anyone that I talk to, that reblogs me a lot, that I reblog a lot, or so on. If I forgot anyone, I’m sorry! Please do it if you want to, or not! You do you. All the love xx 🤗🤗🤗

#interview tag #sorry for spelling for grammar mistakes #I’ll edit this later #but I gotta sleep #night guys #me #alll the info #sorry not sorry #good mood at the moment #will most likely change #lol

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veliseraptor · 7 years

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this alternate pov of this fic is courtesy of @portraitoftheoddity because she mentioned wanting to see it and, well, who am I to deny such enabling? (yeah, I totally wanted to do it, so sue me.)

this is the closest I’ll probably get to writing something that would be tagged “Not Team Iron Man Friendly” on AO3.

cw, as with the original, for character death and hella angst.

There was a letter from Steve sitting on the table in front of him. Though calling it a “letter” was probably generous: no salutation, no signature. One handwritten line.

Loki’s dead. Don’t try to contact me.

He’d been staring at it for about a half an hour, now.

“What’s that?” Tony half turned to look at Rhodey (Rhodey, legs in braces, what a fucking disaster) and just picked up the piece of paper, holding it out wordlessly. He raised his eyebrows at Tony but made his way over and, adjusting his crutches, took it.

“Shit,” he said, concisely.

“Don’t really need to ask how,” Tony said. His voice sounded strange. What’d he said to Steve in Siberia? Ross won’t touch him. He won’t dare.

Apparently he’d misjudged that one.

Rhodey put the letter back on the table. “There’s nothing you could’ve done, Tony.”

“I could’ve guessed,” Tony said. “Fuck. Fuck. Ross actually…”

Guess you don’t have to worry about that vision of yours anymore. He didn’t like Loki. Sometimes Loki straight up scared him, and with what Vision had told him about Thanos fucking possessing him that made him even more dangerous. But...Jesus.

Ross must’ve killed him practically right after Tony’d left. Maybe as he’d been telling Steve that Ross wouldn’t do it.

How’d they even manage to kill him? Loki had always seemed practically invincible.

“Tony?” Rhodey said, sounding like he’d repeated it a couple of times.

“I need to call Steve,” Tony said abruptly, standing up. Rhodey gave him a look like he was insane.

“The thing he specifically told you not to do? Come on. You’re upset, I get it, but - and you need to remember that he’s a vigilante now. A fugitive. If you get caught corresponding with him…”

“Ross can go fuck himself,” Tony said. He reached for his phone only to realize that he had no idea how to call Steve. And fuck, he was mad at Steve, he didn’t want to call and offer condolences that his psychotic boyfriend was dead, Steve owed him an apology for keeping secrets it was not his business to keep-

Yeah, but you did throw Loki in a shark tank without looking back. Guilt made his stomach feel like it was full of rocks.

“And the UN?” Rhodey asked. “Are you going to tell them to go fuck themselves, too? This isn’t on you-”

Tony rounded on him. “You think Thor’s going to buy that when he gets back? I can just tell him yeah, I put your brother in the prison where they killed him but it’s not my fault, I’m sure that’ll go over great.”

Not just Thor, he realized with a chill. Loki had called Bucky Barnes his friend, and they did get along like two peas in a murdering pod. Barnes had a pretty good reason to hate him now already.

Steve wouldn’t let that happen, Tony thought a little desperately, but Steve had already proven he couldn’t control Barnes and even if he could...would he?

“I’m calling Ross,” he said finally.

“Tony,” Rhodey said lowly, “be careful.”

He wanted to call Steve. Tell him...Jesus, what? Sorry I got your boyfriend killed. Whatever Tony thought about Loki, Steve loved him. Like crazy, you could see it in his face. Tony tried to imagine what it would be like if someone murdered Pepper.

He’d never forgive them.

Steve was never going to forgive him.

“What the fuck were you thinking,” he said the second Ross picked up.

“Stark,” Ross said.

“You killed Loki,” Tony said. “You just made the stupidest move you could possibly make-”

“I had a dangerous war criminal executed,” Ross said. “And where did you get that information?”

“I have good sources,” Tony said. “You don’t understand, do you? You just permanently alienated Captain America, made an enemy of a master assassin, and invited the wrath of a literal god. Did you think this through? At all?”

“I did what was necessary for the sake of the world,” Ross said. “I thought you would understand that.”

Tony hung up and almost threw his phone across the room. You screwed up. You screwed up hard and you can’t fix it.

He remembered Loki snarling at him: You think you can wave your hand and throw some money around and fix everything. He couldn’t fix this.

You do not even comprehend what you will face, and your folly might well cost you your realm.

He might be right, Tony realized. The Avengers were already fractured, and this...this just about killed the idea of that ever changing. Which made him realize he’d kind of been expecting it would. That this wouldn’t last, eventually the band would get back together again, things would work out.

Not anymore.

And without the Avengers…

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. “Fuck, fuck.”

Tony locked himself in his lab, shut off all the cameras, and called T’Challa. “Can I talk to Steve?” He asked, fingers crossed, guessing.

“No,” T’Challa said. “He isn’t here.”

“T’Challa, please,” Tony said. “It’s important.”

“I am sure it is,” T’Challa said evenly. “But he isn’t here.” And he hung up.

Maybe an hour later he got a call back.

“Fuck you,” said Sam Wilson.

“Uh,” Tony said, taken aback.

“You think you get to just call up and ask to talk to him? After what you did? I don’t care what you want. You’re on your own. You don’t have the fucking right to ask us for anything.”

“I wanted to say-” Tony didn’t know what he wanted to say. The raw anger in Sam’s voice caught him by surprise.

“Save it,” Sam said, sounding disgusted. “I hope you’re happy being a government stooge, Mr. Stark.”

“Wait!” Tony took a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize. I didn’t actually think that Ross would kill him.”

“Really,” Sam said. “You didn’t? Cause I remember people telling you exactly that several times. You just didn’t listen. Or didn’t care.”

“Where’s Steve,” Tony asked.

“No idea,” Sam said, deadpan. “Gone. He took off about a week ago on his own. I guess he figured enough was enough. And you know what? I can’t even fucking blame him.”

He hung up. Second person in two hours to hang up on him. Tony stared at his phone. Gone. So Steve had walked off, Loki was dead, Natasha was missing. T’Challa had pulled back into Wakanda. Rhodey was injured and Vision was moping.

He’d just been trying to make things right. How had it gotten this bad?

He went digging in Ross’s files, looking for...something. When he realized what he was looking for it almost made him stop.

He wanted to know where they’d taken Loki’s body.

The first thing he found, though, was the video of the execution. He made himself watch it and threw up in a trash can afterwards. Was that what Steve had seen? How he’d known?

Tony kept trying to rehearse what he was going to say to Thor, but nothing he thought of sounded good enough as sorry I got your baby brother killed apology.

Maybe a month later Ross died from a severe case of bullet-to-the-head. Point blank range. Barnes didn’t exactly leave a calling card that said you’re next, but then again he didn’t exactly have to.

It occurred to Tony that his vision had come true after all. Loki had destroyed the Avengers from within. All he’d had to do was die.

#a wild fic appeared #remember this cold #(an au of)#the everything is awful au

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iwillbeinmynest · 7 years

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An Owed Debt- Bucky x May(oc) Chapter 19

Authors notes: Okay guys, this it where it gets real. I hope you can still love me after this. Also, I’m sorry it took so long to get this out. Enjoy, If that’s possible…

Notes/Warnings: Angst, violence, blood, fear, manipulation, death and mentions of death. This one gets pretty dark, my sweet Nest Eggs.

The walk down to Travis’ cell was nothing short of terrifying. Each determined step Bucky took was a warning to anyone in his way which, after seeing the threat in his eyes, wasn’t very many people. His eyebrows were pulled down like a hood over his eyes, his jaw was squared and set, and his fists swayed at his sides. He had a mission and he was going to see it through.

He pushed the door to Travis’ padded cell open wide and stood in the doorway, glaring at him. He stood there for a minute or two and no one would have known it but, Bucky was actually trying to calm himself down. He finally shut the door behind him and moved to stand directly in front of Travis.

“Hello, Soldat.” Travis started to grin but Bucky kicked the smirk off his face. Travis was flung sideways and, with his arms strapped down, there was no way to catch himself.

“Bucky grabbed fistfuls of his straight jacket and propped Travis upright against the padded walls. “Let that be your first warning.” He growled.

Travis, who was bleeding from his lip and from a cut across his cheek, flashed a crimson grin. “You want her, don’t you?”

“What have you done to her?” Bucky’s voice was low and even.

Travis sighed and rolled his eyes. He spit blood onto the cushioned floor before answering. “You people keep asking me that and my answer is always the same. I’ve had her fixed.”

“Be specific.” Bucky squatted to meet Travis’ eyes.

“She was flawed, only half of her was enhanced so the Good Doctor fixed her, fused her DNA with a formula to complete her transformation. She’s perfect, now. Well, accept for her past. But I’m working on that, as we speak.” His mouth stung from his busted lip as a crocodile’s grin spread wide across his face.

Bucky frowned and nodded his head. “You’re arrogant. I hate that.”

Travis chuckled. “I bet you do. I bet you hate everything about me. But not more than you hate yourself for letting me take her, I’d wager.”

“What did you do to Wanda?” Bucky demanded. He gripped Travis’ jacket a little tighter and pulled the fabric tight around the kid’s throat.

“Which one is that again? The red head or the the dark one with the magic fingers?” Travis ran his tongue over the cut on his lip.

“She’s the one who turned you into a sack of flesh before you woke up here.” Bucky clarified.

“Right.” Travis nodded slightly before resting his head against the dirty white wall. “I just pushed her out that’s all. Well, that and I made sure she can’t get back in. Nasty side effects, though. How’s she holding up?”

“Better than you.”

Travis only had enough time to loose his smile before Bucky’s fist collided with his face. Bucky wailed on Travis like there was no tomorrow. Relentlessly, Bucky punched him into oblivion. Hit after hit until he got bored and added kicking, too. Every pent up emotion, every ounce of hate he had for himself, he took out on the boy beneath him.

“Shouldn’t someone stop him?” Sam asked with a palm outstretched to the monitors in front of him. He stood with the rest of the team in the surveillance room down the hall. Everyone in the small room stood rigid at the sight of watching Bucky. They knew what he was capable of, they’d seen the reports, but to stand by and watch? That was truly unsettling.

Nat raised an eyebrow. “You want to give it try?” She asked. Sam closed his mouth and crossed his arms.

No. No one wanted to interfere with Bucky, right now. And everyone knew that if they tried they might end up sharing in Travis’ fate. It got to the point that, after about thirty seconds, Tony switched off the audio. Travis has started to scream and Bucky switched tactics and pulled out a knife.

Before anyone could protest, Nat turned off the monitors. She squared her shoulders to the shocked team and spoke plainly. “I know him, I know how Hydra trained him, you don’t want to see this.”

Steve shook his head and shifted his weight. “This isn’t who he is. Someone needs to stop him before he looses himself.” The air in the room shifted and a few of the team members cleared their throats or pulled at their clothes. Steve noticed the changed and looked around. “What?”

Nat stepped up when no one else would. “You remember that mission to Florence, when you got captured and Bucky saved you a day later?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah.”

“How do you think he got your location so fast?” She asked him. “He didn’t exactly ask politely.”

Steve finally understood; connecting the implied dots. He huffed and looked at his team. “And you all knew about this? And didn’t tell me?”

“You were in recovery for a week.” Sam defended weakly. “Couldn’t really find the right time to tell you. You were all he had. He wasn’t about to loose you. And as much as no one likes to talk about it, that,” Sam pointed at the black screen. “That’s who he is when he’s scared.”

May had been searching the halls for the stone room; the room with the chair. If she could find that room, maybe she could find something to fight off Travis with. She ran and ran and it felt like she had been running for hours until, finally, she burst through a set of double doors and found herself back in the very room where she had been strapped to the chair.

But she didn’t find the peace she had hoped for. Instead, she found a screaming and bloodied Travis, writhing on the floor. He lay next to the Good Doctor and twisted in agony on the stones that were still soaked from the massacre that had happened in there.

He reached out a shaky hand her way and screamed her name. “Please! Help me!”

May stood perfectly still.

“Please! He’s killing me!” Travis pleaded. When May still didn’t move his desperate request turned into vicious accusations. “You stupid girl! You have the ability to stop this! The Doctor gave you incredible powers and you choose to be a coward and do nothing! You can reach into his mind and snuff out the dull flicker of his life and still you stand there! You could kill him with the blink of an eye! I’ve done everything to make you whole and you betray me!”

As Travis let out another mangled scream May made a choice. She walked closer to him, slowly and crouched down on to her knees and leaned in close to Travis, cradling his face. “Can I really do all of those things?”

Travis managed a small grin and started bleeding form a new gash across his brow. He reached out to touch her face. “Yes, baby. You’re so powerful, you don’t even know.”

“Tell me what to do.” She said in almost a whisper.

Tears fell from Travis’ eyes in relief. “Place both of your hands on my head, reach into my mind and find my sight from there you can see his face. Then, take a deep breath and reach farther into his mind.” He smiled and rubbed a bloody thumb across her cheek.

“Okay.” A smile ghosted across her lips as her hands slid up Travis’ face, her fingertips landing at his temples.

She closed her eyes and focused. Travis’ mind came rushing into view and she saw the depths of who he was. She saw his past with Hydra. She saw her operation from all those days before; he had watched the whole thing. Then, she found his sight and her breath caught in her throat as she saw Bucky torturing the life out of Travis.

The man she was seeing wasn’t the man she knew. He wasn’t her family, he wasn’t the one who had cared for her. The man she was seeing was full to the brim with rage and hate and she hardly recognized him. This was The Soldier, with eyes like a great white shark after smelling blood.

She took a deep breath and pushed into Bucky’s mind. She found her voice and whispered to him with all the strength she had; which was more than she had anticipated.

“End this.” She said to him. “End this with me.” May pulled out of Bucky’s mind and ripped through Travis like a black flood.

She killed him.

She killed every inch of him from within his brain. She shut down his organs and felt them wither away. She unplugged every wire in his brain and fried it. She burned through him and ripped out every twisted thought about her. She only spared a few things for last. She saved his heart so he could live through his death. She saved his nerves so he could feel everything Bucky did to him.

Finally, when he was just a limp figure with a heart beat, she allowed him to hear again and whispered to the one part of his mind that wasn’t melted.

“Thank you for fixing me.”

Those were the last words Travis ever heard before she snuffed out his life and shut his heart down.

An Owed Debt Tags:

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Forever Tags:

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flauntpage · 6 years

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NBA Summer Vacation: Emotion of the Oceans

There is motion in the SVW ocean and by that I mean an awful lot of dudes are way out in the wild blue yonder this week. A few did it really well—I mean really well, like an impending humanitarian award is on the way well—and a couple should stick to spending the rest of their summers on the dry side, lest they wanna become completely washed in the annals of these hallowed, a-little-sticky-from-aloe-vera-sun-balm halls.

Marc Gasol

Marc Gasol, who just a week ago was keeping tabs on the organic garden he planted in his yard last summer vacation, was out in a dingy rescuing migrants stranded in the Mediterranean. There is no joke here. Marc Gasol spent the last week volunteering with the NGO Proactiva Open Arms and much of that was spent out in the open water recovering the bodies of migrants and helping to bring survivors safely to land. The NBA is a progressive league, it gets talked about a lot, but it is occasionally without due credit given to the players who make it that way.

Rating: Just Marc Gasol, absolutely doing the most.

JaVale McGee

A nice transition into our regularly scheduled tittering and trash talk on the way player’s choose to spend their offseason is JaVale McGee pretending to pick up his daughter’s play phone and totally tear a new one to the would-be caller on the other end.

Rating: 9021UH OH!

James Harden

What’s UP James Harden in a trashy, regular ass tank top, flipping the hang loose hand while laser strobe lights illuminate your face?! Turns out all it takes to set James Harden free is setting him loose on the shores of Ibiza with Real Madrid Captain Sergio Ramos and frankly it’s dumb of all of us that it took this long to figure out!

You’ll be happy my sleuthing skills have peeled back another layer in this euro-rave onion, specifically why is Harden wearing that top, because from Ramos’s own documenting of this night we can see they are not just at some regular party, they are at a FOAM PARTY.

Rating: The big buildup that lasts for close to three minutes before the beat drops and every whistle is blasting and the foam cannon is pilin’ up the suds around you like so many cloud castles in heaven.

Steph Curry

We cut live to Steph Curry now, jumping fully clothed off the top of a boat. While we are not here to judge all selfless actions this summer vacation we are certainly going to judge this one. He doesn’t have trunks? He’s got to do this in what appears to be like, athletic technology warm up pants that probably shrink wrap to your legs once you hit the water?

Rating: Oh (splash) brother.

Dwyane Wade

Wade is in China, and we can only hope it’s because he’s hot on the heels of the Mr. Hyde of SVW, China Klay. In any case, he’s paused on his hunt for a quick round of golf and I am not a fan nor knowledgeable of that sport but could they not get him a taller club?

Rating: Fore out of five.

Manu Ginóbili

Aside from being in Vancouver, this looks like a nice trip for Main Manu and the entire Ginóbili family. I like to think that he’s getting familiar with the places DeMar DeRozan once set foot in before coming to Toronto for the main event, so he will have some skin in the conversation when Deebo brings up all the things he misses about Canada.

Rating: I’ll let my famous saying about Vancouver speak for itself—“Once you’ve sea-n one wall, you’ve seen ‘em all.”

Giannis Antetokounmpo

Oh my goooosh, look at our little gladiator ROMEin’ around, checking off all the sights and staying, considerately to his GF and the general public, low to the ground. My only hope is that we get a shot of Giannis high-fiving Christ in The Last Judgement, on the ceiling of the ol’ Sistine. He’d only really have to stretch on tip toes to do it.

Rating: Watch out, Eternal City, there’s a new cooler, younger, taller, Pope in town.

Lou Williams

Paris continues to be big and so does standing or sitting on some type of plinth. The supposed 6th man of the year (Fred VanVleet was robbed) has chosen either onyx or ebony, could also be a big Bose speaker just flipped around, to stand on and do the funny gag. Look how happy he is.

Rating: 6th man to attempt this gag on this particular day, maybe.

Boban Marjanović

Here’s Boban in a quarry of some kind, stalking toward the camera with his socks pulled high. Wouldn’t it be incredible if he gets really into BMX culture this year and is constantly almost caught wheelie-ing the white hot sides of the L.A. River? The LAPD are stumped, who is this giant shadow racing away every time on a tiny bike, leaving wet tire tracks all the way back to the Staple Center?

Rating: They’ll find some fancy pegs in Lonzo Ball’s locker, L.A. Boban rides again.

Jaylen Brown

Jaylen Brown is in Bali doing tarps off and fanny pack on, doing the kind of nervous smile one does on vacation when someone has pushed you into something you aren’t quite comfortable with. Out of frame I am imagining a pack of monkeys glaring at him with their beady eyes, rubbing their little paws together over what kind of gear they are going to nab off this guy.

Rating: An up-to-date rabies vaccine and one long look at the warnings, I hope.

Mirza Teletović

Ah yes, exactly the scene the Turkish folk poet Yunus Emre was attempting to set in his 13th century banger "Mirza at the Grand Bazaar."

Rating: Gives a whole new meaning to telenovela am I right?

Willy Hernangómez

Here we got a great, extremely contoured shot of Willy’s back as he soaks up the sun in the ancient port city of Cádiz, Spain.

Rating: How sweaty are you getting just looking at this? The answer is extremely.

Tim Hardaway Jr.

Double feature for THJ! What I wouldn’t give to get this in a slow-mo video but you gotta take your summer refreshers where you can get ‘em, folks. This is the exact yin to Willy’s yang (get your god damn minds out of the gutters) up there.

Rating: How quenched are you getting just looking at this? The answer is extremely.

Taj Gibson

Somebody wants to be this summer’s solo banana boat boy! Taj is floatin’ in the ocean off the coast of Pesaro, which is way up on the back side of the top of Italy’s boot, on what looks to be a rescue device but is maybe just some kind of Euro pool floatie more streamlined than the traditional mattress. In case there was any doubt that he’s fully in the Eat portion of his Eat, Pray, Love offseason, here he is giggling and having some spaghetti,

Rating: He’ll be sad when it’s time to say goodbye to this trip.

Malcolm Delaney

The Hawks guard has scooted a little farther south for a break in Miami where he’s getting some assistance getting on, or else a chauffeured ride on, this jet-ski. No reason to be out here having fun but not being safe.

Rating: As the SVW rhyme goes—“A ski on land, hold a friend’s hand. A ski on the water, let’s not repeat Sean Kingston’s mistakes.”

Sam Dekker

Double Dekker’s just the latest to be captivated this offseason by the Greek Islands, but this dude’s on ‘em for his honeymoon. One thing’s for sure, I’ve never felt less cool than when I realized Sam Dekker and I have the same style of jumping off things into pristine waters, that is, somehow bunched way the hell up in our bodies and plugging our noses like little loser babies. Congratulations, Sam!

Rating: Enjoy all that water up your nose while Sam and I breathe easily from ours!

Matthew Dellavedova

Here we have my and summer’s natural enemy, Matthew Dellavedova, holding onto a hammerhead shark with his eyes squeezed shut, praying for the photo to get taken so he can put it down. You know what, Delly? Why even pick it up in the first place? How would you like it if someone was hanging onto you by the butt and the back and lofting you high above your home? Come to think of it that must be what dunking feels like, but without the debilitating terror because the ball is not a misunderstood creature. Not that you would know what it feels like to do that.

Rating: I won’t.

Cameron Payne

Wherever Payne is—and he looks as confused about it as I am—he should stay there as long as possible, in that exact same shirt, wearing those exact same steampunk shades, squinting off into the exact same middle distance, because lord knows what’s happening to and for the Bulls this season.

Rating: If thou gaze long into an infinity pool, the infinity pool will also gaze into thee.

Marco Belinelli

I promised myself I wouldn’t cry, but I can’t help picturing Bellinelli fluttering out this big, Turkish beach towel for two in a place called “Fliper & Chiller” on the Balearic Islands as the same welcoming gesture he will make to my eternal guy DeMar DeRozan this season back in San Antonio. Belli I’ve never needed you more.

Rating: Sobbing. But this beach looks nice.

John Wall

Like catching someone mid-sneeze, blowing out birthday candles, or the second they start to hurl going down the last huge hill on a roller coaster, the moment this photo was taken it became Summer Vacation For John Wall.

Rating: Extremely end of July.

NBA Summer Vacation: Emotion of the Oceans published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

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amtushinfosolutionspage · 6 years

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DGB Grab Bag: Kessel’s Hot Dog Hockey Card, Shootouts, and a Puck to the Dome

Three stars of comedy

The third star: Joe Thornton and Brent Burns – When they’re not challenging WWE tag teams, they’re mastering the weirdly specific sub-genre of commercials that involved them just randomly yelling at people.

The second star: Jonathan Ericsson – Just be a nice guy and toss a puck to a fan, what’s the worst that could happen?

(Via r/hockey.)

The first star: Phil Kessel’s hockey card – It was tempting to give this week’s obligatory Phil Kessel spot to this or maybe this, but instead we’ll go with his new hockey card featuring his day with the Cup. Yes, that one:

At some point, we’re going to have to disqualify Kessel from future appearances in the three stars. That moment is currently scheduled for one day after I write my last column. Besides, he had to be first star because everyone in his family is winning stuff this week. Hey, speaking of which…

Debating the Issues

This week’s debate: Wednesday’s women’s gold medal game between Team Canada and Team USA was an all-time classic. But should Olympic gold medal games end with shootouts?

In favor: No, of course not.

Opposed: No, of course not.

The final verdict: No, of course not.

The NHL Actually Got Something Right

The NHL does not award the Stanley Cup based on the results of a shootout.

Trivial Annoyance of the Week

The women’s gold medal game ended in a freaking shootout.

OK, I think the point has been made. But we all agree on this, right?

Actually, it seems like we do. In the moments before and after Wednesday’s shootout, the reaction was pretty close to unanimous. Just about everyone was dreading the way that game ended. American media. Canadian media. Analytics guys. Legendary American players. Canadian Olympians from entirely different sports. Me. You, assuming you’re a decent person.

So why did the game have to end in a shootout?

That’s not a rhetorical question; I’d really love to know why you’d ever use a shootout in a gold medal game. In the round robin or earlier playoff rounds, sure—maybe you don’t want one team to get trapped in a six-period marathon that hurts them for the rest of the tournament. But the gold medal game? Why?

It’s not about keeping the rules consistent, since they already make overtime longer in the final game. It’s not about needing the ice for the next game, since there isn’t one. It’s not about fatigue, you’d think, since it’s the last game. Or is it? That’s the only option that makes sense. But not much.

Sure, players are going to get tired in long games. We saw that on Wednesday, when Team Canada looked absolutely gassed as overtime went on. But that’s hockey. Conditioning is part of the sport. So is bench management. The shootout probably didn’t change the result of the game, since a Team USA win was looking inevitable the longer it went.

But that’s the problem—they deserved that win, a real win, not a gimmicked one that gives Canadians an out. Wednesday’s shootout was just about as good as a shootout can possibly be, with some dramatic stops and truly great goals. Jocelyne Lamoureux’s winner will become an iconic goal in international hockey history. But it was still a shootout. Shootouts suck. Sometimes they’re a necessary evil, maybe. But gold medal games are never one of those times.

The Canadian men will play for gold this weekend, and while there’s no chance they can match the drama and intensity of the women’s final, here’s hoping they at least get to settle the biggest hockey game of their lives by playing hockey.

And if at some point in the future, somebody tries to invoke Wednesday’s classic as a reason to consider using the shootout in the NHL playoffs, load them into a bobsled and slide them into a lake.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

It’s been an interesting week for Montreal Canadiens fans. Their current captain, Max Pacioretty, is expected to be traded before Monday’s deadline. And the guy who held the job before him, Brian Gionta, was the captain of Team USA at the Winter Olympics.

Not many players can say they’ve worn the “C” for the Canadiens; it’s a list that includes legends like Rocket Richard, Doug Harvey, Jean Beliveau and Newsy Lalonde. In recent times, the honor hasn’t been quite as prestigious, with names like Mike Keane, Vincent Damphousse and Pierre Turgeon taking their turns. But the Canadiens are so enamored with their own history that just holding the job confers a certain type of fame on a player. You wouldn’t think it would be possible for there to be any obscure former Habs captains.

But then you’d be forgetting this week’s player: Walter Buswell.

Buswell was a solid defensive defenseman who started his NHL career with the Red Wings in 1932. He spent three seasons in Detroit, racking up 13 points in 140 games, before being traded to the Bruins as part of a deal for future Hall-of-Famer Marty Barry. Boston flipped him to the Canadiens two days later for Roger Jenkins, and Buswell spent the next five seasons in Montreal.

Those seasons weren’t very good. The Habs missed the playoffs for the first time in a decade in Buswell’s first year, then lost in the opening round in each of the next three. It was a tumultuous time, with Montreal burning through five coaches and three GMs. By the 1939-40 season, Buswell was one of the oldest players left on the team, and was given the captaincy after Babe Siebert retired to become the team’s latest coach.

It ended up being a forgettable year; Siebert never coached a game because he drowned in Lake Huroan during the offseason, the team had a stretch where they won one game out of 20, and the Canadiens finished dead last, a feat they haven’t repeated in the almost eight decades since. It was also Buswell’s last as captain, and as an NHL player. Toe Blake took over the honor and held it for most of the next decade, while Buswell headed to the QPHL and was out of hockey entirely by 1941.

Be It Resolved

The trade deadline is now just three days away, and while the market is picking up, it’s still been fairly slow. That’s a bit of a surprise, given that there are a decent number of sellers this year. And you’d think there would be more draft picks in play, since this year’s crop is considered to be a relatively weak one. But so far, GMs don’t seem to want to move their 2018 picks.

But maybe there’s a way around that. And the key may be hidden in this week’s least interesting deal: The one that sent Eric Fehr from the Maple Leafs to the Sharks for a seventh-round pick.

Most Leafs fans’ reaction to the trade was something along the lines of “Wait, we still have Eric Fehr?” And they only kind of did—he’d been loaned to Anaheim’s AHL team, so he wasn’t even playing for the organization. But the Leafs wanted to free up a roster spot and a bit of cap space. The Sharks needed some fourth-line veteran depth, so they coughed up a late pick.

And it really was a late pick, because the Leafs don’t get the choice until 2020.

It’s relatively rare in the NHL these days to see a draft pick traded more than two years in advance. But maybe it shouldn’t be. Maybe that’s the way to loosen up the market a little bit. If NHL GMs are going to be tightwads with their next bushel of draft picks, then let’s start trading ones for future drafts.

Like, way in the future. Forget 2020. Who wants a 2024 first rounder?

There’s actually plenty of precedent for hockey trades involving far-off future picks. It happens in junior hockey all the time. Check out this year’s biggest CHL deadline trades; they’re full of future picks. Here’s a team trading nine draft picks that stretch all the way to 2023. Here’s a team giving up three picks, none earlier than 2021. Here’s a team trading their second-round pick in 2026. That’s eight years in the future. That’s so long that the Sabres might even be good by then.

How much fun would it be to see NHL teams trading picks from 2026? Do you know how to properly value a draft pick that far down the line? I don’t! I bet NHL GMs don’t either, which would lead to all sorts of unpredictable results when they sat down to work deals. Plus imagine tracking the ups and downs of a rival team, knowing your team owned their first rounder a half-decade from now. It would be great.

Granted, junior hockey isn’t the NHL. Draft picks aren’t as valuable, and teams go through cyclical and relatively predictable stages of contending that make trading away future picks a little easier. But it’s not like an NHL GM has never thought of acquiring future picks. In fact, it was pretty much the trademark of the best GM ever, Montreal Canadiens’ legend Sam Pollock. He built a dynasty out of ripping off dumb teams, stockpiling their future picks and then turning them into guys like Guy Lafleur and Larry Robinson.

If Pollock could do it, couldn’t the GM of your favorite team? Well, no, because they’re not as smart as Sam Pollock. But you think they’d be willing to try. And even a dumbed-down version of the Pollock strategy could probably break a few logjams.

So be it resolved, let’s stretch out the event horizon for NHL trades. You can’t give up your precious third-round pick this year? Fine, give us your second from 2021. You probably won’t even be the GM by then, so let’s get this done and hit the bar.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

With the trade deadline looming, GMs all across the league are sitting in conference rooms with their front office staff, plotting out the moves that will impact their teams for years to come.

But what do those highly private conversations sound like? As it turns out, we have at least some idea, thanks to one team that figured it would be a good idea to film a crucial decision and put it on the internet. Spoiler alert: It would not be the only bad decision they made that week.

It’s June 29, 2013, with the draft and free agency just days away. These fine folks you see here are the assembled brain trust of the Boston Bruins, who’ve just finished up their second Stanley Cup final appearance in three years. Everything is going well. Let’s see if we can pinpoint the moment that changes.

The star of our clip is, of course, then Bruins GM Peter Chiarelli. He also looks really miserable throughout this entire clip, which makes me wonder what he must look like today with the Oilers. Has anyone seen him lately? Are we completely sure he hasn’t gone goth on us?

Things start off with what seems like a reasonably straightforward problem: The team wants to re-sign Nathan Horton, but as Chiarelli puts it, “we’re having difficulty.” That was true; Horton was basically stringing the Bruins along, waiting out the clock to get to free agency. We eventually found out he wasn’t happy with the Bruins waiting to negotiate, but at the time, the whole thing was a bit of a mystery.

Still, it’s Nathan Horton. Good player, but he’s not going to make or break your team. No need to panic, right?

Yeah, not so much. As Chiarelli explains, signing either Horton or a reasonable replacement will mean they’ll have to move a player, and the guy he’s focused on is Tyler Seguin. At this time, Seguin is 21 years old, three years removed from being the second overall pick, and has already led the Bruins in scoring. But he’s coming off a disappointing playoff run, and now he might be on the block. Chiarelli opens the floor to feedback.

First up is Keith Gretzky, making his second ever YouTube section appearance. He apparently isn’t much a Seguin fan, accusing him of not wanting to pay the price. He’s followed by director of player personnel Scott Bradley, who suggests Seguin isn’t physical enough and relies on his skill.

“Sound familiar?” Chiarelli asks, in a pretty transparent reference to Phil Kessel. “Yeah, it does,” Bradley replies, and then there’s a weird jump cut where something is clearly edited out. I’m assuming it was somebody else going “It sounds like Keith’s older brother, somebody remind me if he turned out to be any good?” and then being dragged out of the room and thrown down an elevator shaft.

We see a shot of Chiarelli talking to Don Sweeney, which ends up being a bit of ironic foreshadowing given how this all plays out. Meanwhile, we get a voiceover by Denis Leary, which is weird, because I don’t even remember Bill Hicks doing this bit.

Chiarelli calls “Paul,” which is Horton’s agent Paul Krepelka. We only hear one side of the conversation, but we can tell from Chiarelli’s reaction that he’s not hearing good news. “Done,” he tells the group. We then cut to a shot of Jim Benning making the exact same face that every Canucks fan made last week when they found out about Jim Benning’s extension.

We skip ahead a day, and now Chiarelli wants everyone to weigh in one a potential Seguin trade. Bradley’s up first, and this time he’s done being subtle; he just buries Seguin. So does Bruins legend and team president Cam Neely. If there’s a dissenting voice in the room, we don’t get to hear it—these guys clearly don’t like Seguin, and they want him gone.

I mean, can we just take a moment to appreciate how insane it is that this was all filmed and released? As a fan I love behind-the-scenes stuff and as media I want as much information as possible, but it’s crazy that the Bruins would let this see the light of day in a league that obsesses over bulletin board material. The only saving grace is that surely everyone involved learned their lesson and never let themselves be filmed talking trade ever again.

All that said, now I kind of want to know what the Kessel trade conversation was like in 2009. I’m guessing it was just Chiarelli taking off his jacket Ric Flair-style and elbow-dropping a photo of Kessel over and over.

Chiarelli goes to work the phone, talking to an unnamed GM about first round picks and prospects. That’s where our clip ends, although you can watch the rest of the episode here. That clip doesn’t give us any additional insight into the eventual trade, which saw the Bruins send Seguin to Dallas as part of a seven-player deal for Loui Eriksson and prospects. We just skip ahead to Eriksson meeting Cam Neely, touring the rink, and waving a watch in front of Benning while repeating “You will sign me to a terrible free agency contract in three years.”

The epilogue: Seguin immediately blossomed into a point-a-game star, and is the sixth-leading scorer in the league since the trade went down. Eriksson, who’s never been anyone’s idea of a physical player, lasted three years in Boston. All in all, not good.

So what happened to the brain trust in the meritocracy-based NHL? Well, three (Chiarelli, Benning and Sweeney) are currently running teams, and two more (Gretzky and Bradley) have since been promoted to assistant GM. But at least they all learned a valuable lesson about the dangers of trading a top pick from the 2010 draft.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you’d like to see included in this column? Email Sean at [email protected].

DGB Grab Bag: Kessel’s Hot Dog Hockey Card, Shootouts, and a Puck to the Dome syndicated from https://australiahoverboards.wordpress.com

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furfoxsake22 · 7 years

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Airship

I had never intended to love this life that I started living. I had never intended to love working on this airship or the people on it. I love working with the mechanics of the engine and getting to meet all the new people. Even though I’m no longer in my old town, maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. My life was starting to get boring and I wanted to do something more. Even though I’m only 19, I felt like I was stuck there and couldn’t leave – like that was going to be my future for the rest of my days. Then, these air pirates showed up. Air pirates are exactly what they sound like pirates the pillage towns and travel around on giant airships. These specific pirates are called the Skyscrapers, they weren’t the worst pirates in the land but they were not nice. They showed me how exciting life can be and that you don’t have to be stuck in one place. I was excited and giddy the first few days on the airship, I started to get accustomed to the swaying of the ship and the routine that everyone had. Sitting in the engine room is boring when nothing interesting happens but at least I have Sam to talk to. Sam is the first engine room manager. He’s about 60, but even though he’s old he still is a great engine man. Speaking of which he’s sleeping at his desk so I’m stuck being bored. Of course, as soon as I said that one of the cooling pipes in the engine bursts. Cold water was being sprayed everywhere. “Sam pipe burst!” I see him jolt awake from the cold water hitting him. “What?! I’m Awake!” he gets up from his chair and walks over to the engine not seeming to be as concerned about the burst as I was. I started frantically looking for the pipe “Oh wait Sam I found it. Hand me a new pipe and I can fix it.” Stupid copper pipes always breaking. Sam handed the me new pipe and I crawled under the engine, Sam couldn’t do this part. He’s to old and to big, I grabbed the old pipe and twisted it off of the engine and its connector. Doing this while cold water is being sprayed onto you and directly into your eyes is not the easiest thing in the world but I managed. I placed the new pipe in and twisted it tight finally stopping the water. “Ha! Fixed it Sam” I was about to roll out before I heard a clanking sound “Althea before you come out can you figure out what that is. I have never heard that sound before” I looked back up into the engine trying to see if I could find anything. “I don’t get it I don’t see anything” I kept looking and then finally towards the center of the engine I was a little screw bouncing around on top of two gears. “Sam I hate your old assistant!” I reached up carefully and took a screwdriver and knocked it off of the gears so that it fell onto my shoulder. I grabbed the screw and rolled out from under the engine. “I’m going to give Landon a piece of my mind when I see him.” Landon was Sam’s old assistant the one who was helping him before I got on the ship. “Yeah, he isn’t very mechanically inclined” Sam said before taking the screw from my hand “Oh wait what time is it maybe it’s finally time for lunch” I pulled out my pocket watch and smiled “Yay! It’s finally time for lunch!” Lunch is my favorite time of day because, while Landon can’t work with mechanics, he can cook. I smiled and started to skip out the door “Althea can you bring me back something I want to continue my nap.” “Sure Sam.” I walked out the door and onto the deck. I have loved this ship since the first time I saw it. Its big balloon painted copper. The upper deck was right below the balloon itself. It held most of the crew quarters and the bridge. The lower deck, which is attached to the upper deck by steel bars, is where I am most days. The lower deck holds the kitchen and the engine room, as well as the hanger where our flyers are kept. Flyers are small two-person air crafts that are powered by fans on the undersides of them. The skyscraper can’t land on the ground so when we have to get off we take the small flyers. I walked a couple doors down to the kitchen and opened the door. There wasn’t a line at the door so I think I might have lost my chance to get anything. “Landon you still here?” I called lightly opening the door. I smiled seeing that he was cleaning up some dishes. Landon is only a year older than me and was my first friend on the ship. I ran into him while they were in the village. He was looking for food to cook. When the skyscrapers got into the town, they weren’t like other pirates they didn’t pillage or steal they just shopped and tried to find parts for their ships and they went to the pub too, but that is to be expected. Landon had been looking for food and I ran into him. We started talking and he told me about his trips with the Skyscrapers and how amazing it was living on the ship. He was the one that really convinced me to join the Skyscrapers I walked up to Landon while he was doing the dishes “Did you save anything for me and Sam? I know we’re late, but we had to fix the engine for the third time today.” Landon finished the spoon he was cleaning and turned around “I might have some food for you, but do you really deserve the food?” He pulled out two bowls from behind him both filled with stew. My mouth instantly started watering “Oh come on I told you I fixed the engine three times already. One time was your fault mister assistant. You didn’t tighten a screw enough and it finally popped off today. I almost lost my finger trying to get it out!” I know I was whining at this point but I didn’t really care I was hungry. Landon blushed and handed over the food “Fine then I guess you can have it since you had to fix my mess up.” You see I knew Landon had a tiny itty bitty teensy crush on me and I might have a small crush on him too, but for the moment I didn’t really want to act on anything because I’m brand new to the ship. “Thanks Landon. Maybe I’ll swing by after dinner and we can hang out for a little while.” I left and walked back out onto the deck. The air was so nice today the sky was almost completely clear, there were a few fluffy clouds that dotted the sky. We were flying over the mountains today, headed for god knows where. I hardly ever knew where we were flying. I only ever found out when we got there and either did our normal shopping or pillaging. I got back to the engine room and kicked the door lightly trying to get Sam’s attention so that he would open the door. Sam came to the door and opened it. I gave him the soup and walked over to the corner of the room where there was a large crate. I sat down and started to eat, enjoying every single bite. Landon was the best cook on the ship. I finished my food and someone came over the intercom “Everyone prepare we’re being attacked!” Whelp that’s not good. I jumped off of my seat and headed for the door. I opened it and instantly heard gunfire and cannons. I looked across the sky in search of this attacking ship. When I found it, it took everything in my power not the drop to the floor. The air ship was huge easily 3x bigger than us. It was painted all black with a menacing skull in red painted on the balloon. Canons were shooting out of the ship faster than we would have been able to reload. They were going to knock us out of the sky “Sam what are we supposed to do?! They’re gonna shoot for the engine.” He got up from his chair in a slow manner he looked forlorn. He knew what was going to happen. This ship was either going to shoot us out of the sky or take over the ship for its own and there was nothing stopping it from doing so. “There has to be something we can do. Anything?” Sam just stood there and shook his head. “No, I won’t accept that answer I’m going to find some way to help.” I opened the door again and left making a dash for the stairs to the upper deck. I stopped first right in front of where the kitchen was… or should I say used to be. Where the kitchen used to stand was now just a whole that lead straight through to the hanger on the other side. I stood as still as the ship would let me and could only stare and hope that Landon hadn’t been inside. I shook my head trying to get the horrible scenarios out of my head and continued my run for the upper deck. When I got to the upper deck I stopped and looked around hearing the semi-Silence. The cannons from the other ship had stopped but everyone on the upper deck was racing around trying to reload cannons and fix major problems with the ship or attempting to take care of the injured. I immediately started my search for Aya. Aya is the captain of the ship she is the one who tells people what they need to be doing and when it needs to get done so I just had to find someone bossing other people around. I ran around the entire upper deck looking for Aya but couldn’t find her anywhere. I headed for the bridge next. When I got there, I flung the door open and saw Aya standing at the wheel of the ship attempting to steer us away from the other ship “Aya, what can I do to help?” she stayed silent for a few minutes “We can do nothing. He will try to send this ship to hell. He is not a good man. He intends to kill everyone here.” She continued to stare out the window and watch the sky. “Why? Why does he hate us so much?” “He does not hate us. He hates me. When I was, young I pillage more than I do now. I pillaged his town and killed his family and his friends. He got away. He is the captain of the Black Shark, Eli Biggs. He is the worst pirate of the skies.” I could only stand there and shake my head. “Aya you should be trying harder. You care about this ship so much why are you going to let one person take all of that away from you?” I walked away and towards the door. “You know Aya I expected more from an amazing captain like you. I expected you to fight for your ship and try to prove that you’re the better captain. If you won’t do anything I will.” I pulled the door open and went back out onto the deck and then ran towards the stairs heading back to the hanger. When I got down to the hanger I found one of the flyers. I stepped on and strapped the belt around my waist and started it up. The fans on the underside of the craft started and I hovered about a foot off of the ground. I eased forward until I was right at the hanger door. I huffed and was about to lower the craft to go and open the door. Right before I hit the ground the door opened. I looked over towards the lever that opened the door. “Thank you, Sam! I’m going to try and stop all of this.” Sam just nodded. I took off out the door once it was fully open. I headed straight for the enemy ship the upper deck specifically. The closer I got to the ship the louder the gunfire became and the louder the cannons became as well. It shattered the silence that had surrounded the world ten minutes ago. When I landed on the ship everyone instantly turned their heads towards me. Oops, time to make a run for it. I jumped off of the flyer and ran towards the bridge slamming the door open. Inside I saw the person I could only assume was the captain. He stood facing the front of the ship watching the sky. He heard the door slam open and turned his head towards me. He had a look of disgust. I slammed the door closed behind me and locked it. “What is a pest like you doing on my ship.” I was frozen in place. His voice was as cold as ice and his stare was like piercing daggers. “Oh, you’re one of Aya’s little henchmen aren’t you. She sent a little girl to do her bidding” He turned completely facing me. The weight of both the pistol and the dagger in my belt felt reassuring yet frightening. “No she didn’t send anyone I came here on my own. I’m going to stop you in whatever way I can. I know why you want to kill Aya but she has changed. She isn’t killing people anymore.” I tried to defend Aya but I was lying. I didn’t know that much about Aya. I have no idea if she has changed or not. She could still be the same person she was. I wasn’t here for Aya though, I was here for Landon and Sam and every other Skyscraper on that ship. “Well then you wasted a trip. You wanted to be the hero in this story but you know you can’t be. The minute you injure or kill me everyone on the ship will be out for your head. You are in a competition of 200 to 1. You will lose. So, why don’t I help you and just take care of you here.” My eyes widened and I backed up pressing my back against the door. I trapped myself in here. I’m going to die in here. I pulled my pistol out and aimed it at him. He ran forward and I pulled the trigger. He managed to dodge it and grab my gun from me. I gasped and my eyes went wide. He pulled the trigger and I heard the bang. I didn’t feel anything for a second and I though he missed. Then I felt a red hot burning in my side. I looked down and saw a blossoming of red. “Welcome to the competition in which there are more players than just you.” He picked me up by my throat and walked to the front of the bridge to the window. I’m going to die here. I thought I could stop him but was out smarted. I guess Aya was right. There wasn’t anything I could do, but at least I tried. “You lose” He threw me forward and I hit the window. It shattered on impact and I fell through plummeting to the ground the was thousands of miles below. Free falling is an interesting feeling. The wind rushing past you and the clouds slowly getting closer to you. I wasn’t screaming. I really couldn’t right now I was in shock. I was just shot and thrown out a window to fall to my death. This was it I was going to hit the ground and I’m going to die if the blood loss doesn’t get me first. I angled my body so my back was facing the ground and I was watching the two ships. I started thinking about the regrets of my life, how cheesy. I didn’t tell my mother goodbye before I came onto the ship. I didn’t get to see my siblings grow up. I didn’t get to follow my life dreams. This isn’t the right time for me to die but there isn’t anything I can do about it now. Who knows maybe Aya will remember me. Her airship isn’t plummeting to the ground like she thought just me. I passed through a cloud and then another finally realizing the weather had changed while I had been on the enemy ship. It was cloudy and grey outside now. Funny how the weather changed to fit the circumstance. I closed my eyes and listened to the air whistle past my ears. “Althea!” my eyes shot open and I started searching the sky. Landon was trying to follow on one of the flyers “Althea I’m gonna help you but I need to slow you down first or I won’t be able to catch up to you. Catch this.” He threw a backpack towards me. I watched it sail through the air and towards me but it was going to miss if I didn’t move. I have to move. Move! I stretched my arm out to try and grab the bag my fingers just barely grazing it. I flipped over and tucked my arms by my sides speeding up my fall just a bit and getting closer to the bag. I wrapped my fingers around the strap and pulled it closer to me. I pulled the straps and buckled everything. With the speed that I’m going this is going to hurt. I pulled the cord and the parachute flew out jerking me back hard and knocking the wind out of my lungs and it felt like it was tearing into my side where I was shot. Landon slowly came up beside me and held a hand out to me. I took it and he pulled me on the flyer and as soon as my feet touched the floor I pulled the parachute off and strapped into the flyer. “Are you okay–not drastically bleeding or anything?” I started to shake my head no when my vision went fuzzy and I fell to my knees. “No Althea just hang on for a few….” I don’t really know what he said next. The pain became too much and I passed out When I regained consciousness, I was lying in a room much more lavish than my own, both on the ship and at home. The room was decorated in red’s and golds with jewels hanging on hooks on the walls. The closet was off to my right where I could see a deep burgundy ankle long coat. This must be the captains room. I started to close my eyes again but the door opened and I looked and saw Landon and Aya come in “Althea your awake” Landon moved closer and sat next to the bed and sat on the floor. “How are you feeling?” Aya asked while walking to the other side of the bed “Well besides the burning pain in my side not to terrible considering I was just thrown off of a ship.” Landon chuckled and Aya just stood the and watched “You should not have done that” I sighed “Yes I know Aya but what was I supposed to do let everyone else on the ship die or have it plummet to the ground.” She just shook her head and walked out “She was afraid of losing you.” Landon said as he got up from the floor to sit on the edge of the bed. “So was I. Why did you do that?” I sighed and tried to sit up succeeding after a minute “I wanted to do it because I saw that the kitchen was destroyed and I thought you were inside when if happened. I also didn’t want to have the entire ship plummet.” I said looking in a corner of the room so I didn’t have to look at him. “Althea are you saying you like me. I had no idea” Landon said sarcastically “Shut up. I just didn’t want to see you hurt okay” Landon smiled and hugged me “I’m not so there. No more dangerous stunts.” I smiled and hugged him back “Alright fine” Little did he know that would only be my first of many dangerous stunts that I pulled. Anything from jumping off of our own ship to standing in the way of firing pistols to almost breaking my hands in the engine. To say I had a knack for putting myself in dangerous situations would be an understatement. The dangerous situations just seemed to find me. Despite all of that I still managed to live another five years before Landon and I got married. We still live on that wonderful airship with Aya and Sam and everyone else. We both could never part from it and I don’t think we ever will.

#first time writer #still new to this

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