#the other day my godsister said i love myself more than anything else and the only thing i actually care about is being right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cuthian · 4 years

Text

Dancing in the Rain Chapter Three

Next Chapter, darlings.

Things are going to happen and happen faster from hereon out. Please keep checking the tags, and if you have any concerns, please shoot me a message!

Eternal thanks to @juuls for putting up with me.

Love, Annaelle

Chapter Three

PROJECT PHOENIX PHASE 1 PROGRESS REPORT

REPORT OF MEDICAL EXAMINATION OF TEST SUBJECT

NAME BARNES, REBECCA AGE 23 RACE CAUCASIAN SEX FEMALE

DATE OF FIRST INJECTION APRIL 20, 2008

DATE OF EXAMINATION MAY 26, 2008 EXAMINED BY ELISA SINCLAIR

CONDITION OF THE SUBJECT BEFORE FIRST INJECTION (DAY 0) EYES BLUE HAIR BROWN WEIGHT 67 KG LENGTH 173 CM

CONDITION OF THE SUBJECT AFTER FIRST INJECTION (DAY 38)

EYES BLUE HAIR BROWN WEIGHT 70 KG LENGTH 176 CM

MARKS AND WOUNDS (HEALING FACTOR)

—LAST INFLICTED INJURIES 48 HOURS AGO—

THREE BROKEN RIBS IN REMODELING STAGE OF HEALING (HEALING STAGE WEEK 6) – INDICATION OF ACCELERATED HEALING IN MINOR FORM

CLEAN BREAK IN FEMUR OF LEFT LEG (HEALING STAGE WEEK 3) – INDICATION OF ACCELERATED HEALING IN MINOR FORM

ONE DEEP PENETRATIVE WOUND ON UPPER ARM IN PROLIFERATIVE STAGE OF HEALING – FURTHER INDICATOR OF ACCELERATED HEALING IN MINOR FORM

SEVERAL MINOR PENETRATIVE WOUNDS ACROSS UPPER TORSO AND LEGS IN PROLIFERATIVE STAGE OF HEALING – FURTHER INDICATOR OF ACCELERATED HEALING IN MINOR FORM

CHAFE WOUNDS ON ANKLES AND WRISTS IN VARIOUS STAGES OF HEALING – FURTHER INDICATOR OF ACCELERATED HEALING IN MINOR FORM

RECOMMENDATIONS FOR FURTHER EXPERIMENTATION

SUBJECT IS SUITABLE TO PROCEED TO PHASE TWO OF PROJECT PHOENIX

MOVE SUBJECT TO SECONDARY BASE FOR INTERACTION WITH THE WINTER SOLDIER AND FURTHER CONDITIONING

DATE MAY 26, 2008 SIGNATURE ELISA SINCLAIR

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

Tony Stark’s Personal Lab, Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York, United States of America

30 April 2016Steve

Steve sat on a chair in the far corner of Tony’s lab, arms wrapped around his torso as he watched the others file into the lab. They’d spent most of the night combing through the data J.A.R.V.I.S. had collected and had, together, decided that it was in everyone’s best interest to call in the rest of the team to share what they’d found.

What they’d possibly found.

Steve understood why Tony… why Wanda thought that the terrorist group they’d been chasing might be Hydra. He saw the same patterns they did, he saw the kind of brutal effectiveness and zealotry that he’d only seen during the war in Hydra, and he saw.

He saw what Wanda meant when she had described her and Pietro’s experience with them, when she had talked about how they’d been meant to become tools to shape the coming century, to sow chaos so humanity would see they needed a strong hand to guide them. It sounded like things Schmidt would have said, like justifications Zola would have spouted for his sick human experiments—

He understood.

That didn’t mean he agreed.

There was nearly no direct evidence, nothing that pointed towards Hydra directly—no double salutes, no glowing blue weapons or secret bases with scarily advanced technology—nothing but rumors of misconduct, suspicious disappearances and something that, he had to admit, didn’t really add up with anything else.

Still, it was hard to believe that Hydra could’ve survived all this time—

That all he’d done would’ve been in vain.

“Why’re we here, Tony?” Becca asked when she walked in, rubbing her hand lightly over her belly. Thor followed her closely, waiting until she had taken a seat to press in behind her, letting her lean back against him. Natasha and Wanda were still sitting on one of the lab tables, leaning against each other tiredly, and Pietro was bouncing on his toes beside them.

Bruce and Tony were both wandering around the lab, tinkering and chatting distractedly.

“We should wait for Sharon, shouldn’t we?” said Tony questioningly, dropping the wrench he had been waving around for the last thirty minutes. “I mean, we’ve agreed to start trusting her, right? She’s gonna be our Becca for at least six months, she should be brought into the loop, shouldn’t she?”

Becca shook her head. “Sharon’s pretty sick, she’s not gonna be in today. Sore throat, ugly coughing, stuff like that. Brock called this morning, said he’s gonna take her to a doctor and let us know.” She leaned back into Thor again and winced a little, rubbing her hand over the side of her stomach where, Steve assumed, the baby had delivered a particularly hard kick.

“Okay,” Tony said. Then, “I have doctors on retainer for my staff. She could come here.”

“I’ll be sure to pass it along,” Becca said dryly. “Now why are we here?”

Tony heaved a sigh and spun on his heel, gesturing wildly at Steve, and Steve couldn’t help but smile, despite the grave subject. He pushed up, off his chair, and leaned against the table Nat and Wanda were sitting on. “We found something,” he said. “Well… Wanda and Nat found something.”

“Full disclosure,” Natasha said slowly, “We’re not a hundred percent sure, but…”

“We think Hydra might not be as dead and gone as we thought after all,” Tony blurted—again, Christ, Tony—before wincing and clapping his hand over his mouth again, like he had the previous night when he’d told Steve.

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away as a deafening silence rang in the lab.

“I—what?!” Becca sputtered, eyes wide.

Thor leaned forward. “This is a very serious claim,” he said calmly, although his forehead was creased with concern. “Steven has told me much about these foes. If they are truly undefeated…” He did not finish, but he didn’t need to—the implication of Hydra’s return hung heavy in the air.

“We never knew what they were called,” Pietro said, and Wanda shook her head. “All we knew was that they lied to us,” she said, rubbing her fingers over the scars Steve knew lay hidden beneath her long sleeves. “They took many like us; willing, young… foolish. Others…” She bit her lip and chanced a glance at Steve. “Perhaps not so willing.”

“Regardless,” Steve said, and he hated that his voice was hoarse and unsteady. “We’re not sure that it’s Hydra, but we’re sure it’s something. And it goes up high. What we’ve found indirectly implicates senators, actors, ambassadors… even the World Security Council. We already knew this was bigger than them trying to frame Sharon, but…”

He sighed.

“This is much bigger than we anticipated.”

J.A.R.V.I.S. helpfully projected digital copies of the files they’d managed to collect in front of the others, and Steve watched as everyone began to sift through the collected documents and articles in there, every single one of them paling significantly as they did.

Steve knew the feeling.

Bruce looked faintly green around the edges, and Steve would be more concerned about him potentially hulking out if he didn’t have more faith in Bruce’s self-control. “What are we going to do?” Bruce choked. “What can we do?”

“Steve,” Becca said slowly, trembling fingers hovering over the digital file, “Why is my—the—why am I in here?”

“There seems to have been more to the attack that took out your squad than we thought,” Tony answered for him, voice gentle as he approached his godsister. His voice and expression were haunted. “There’s been a lot of suspicious activity around there since then too, and it just keeps happening. And…” He hesitated, looking to Steve helplessly.

Steve sighed and moved towards Becca, settling on the seat beside her and taking one of her hands in his. “We found files, detailing… detailing torture and experimentation that sounds a lot like what was done to you while Al ’Qaeda had you.”

Becca looked downright nauseated. “So you think it was Hydra?” she choked. “That they experimented on me?”

“No,” Steve said, shaking his head. “No. I mean, I don’t know. I just know that there might’ve been more to it than we originally thought. Than you might’ve thought.”

Becca swallowed thickly.

Thor rested a hand on her shoulder, rubbing a thumb over the tense line of her shoulder soothingly. Becca didn’t relax, per se, but she did exhale roughly. “Okay,” she said quietly. “So what else do we have? What are we doing? What’s our next step?”

“We need more intel,” Natasha said simply. “Steve got an invitation to a gala in a few days where a lot of the potentially incriminated ambassadors will be. We’re especially looking to talk to Julien Beckers,” she pulled up a picture of a sandy-haired man in a suit and a tie and continued, “the Belgian Minister of Foreign Affairs. He’s implicated in a lot of shady stuff, and apparently loose-lipped when plied with enough alcohol.”

Bruce frowned. “That seems like a pretty poor quality for someone involved with shady stuff.”

Tony nodded vigorously and pointed at Bruce. “And that’s why he doesn’t drink at public functions. The trick will be to get him drunk without him knowing, without arousing his suspicions.”

Bruce nodded. “That’s easy enough to arrange. All we need to do is sneak someone into the serving staff and make sure there’s some kind of undetectable drugging agent in his drink.” He frowned. “It’d probably help if someone was distracting him too.”

Natasha nodded. “Which is where Steve comes in,” she said. “And…” she looked towards Becca. “You, if you and Thor feel comfortable with it.”

Becca blinked. “Me?” she said, pointing at herself quizzically. “But I’m pregnant.”

“Yes,” Natasha nodded. “Which is why no one would suspect us of actually running an op if you’re there. No self-respecting first world country would put their visibly, famously pregnant agent on an active op in the field.”

“With good reason,” Thor said, frowning severely.

“She wouldn’t be in danger,” Steve put in immediately. “I’d be with her the entire time, and we’re just going to a party to talk to someone.” He looked at Thor seriously, imploringly. “I’d never put her in danger, Thor. Either of them.”

“She is right here,” Becca said impatiently. “And I can speak for myself.”

Steve abruptly looked at his best friend and winced. He had been out of sorts since Tony had told him about… about all of this, and so busy trying to figure this out that he’d just… forgotten Becca was sitting right in front of him and wasn’t going to let anyone—even Thor—tell her what to do.

“Sorry,” he said shortly. “I’m sorry. If you think you’re up for it, I could use your help.”

Becca looked at him intently, and he just barely managed not to squirm beneath her gaze before she asked, quietly, “And… you’re sure it’s safe? That nothing will happen?”

“As sure as we can be,” he nodded. “And Clint will be right with us, he can get to us faster than anyone should something go wrong.”

Natasha nodded intently, and Becca looked a little more reassured by that.

She looked up at Thor, questioning, and Steve looked away abruptly.

He’d… he’d been able to communicate with Bucky by just looking at him too, and he… while he was doing good, he still wasn’t great at watching someone else have what he’d lost.

“I’ll do it,” Becca said.

Steve swallowed thickly and nodded. “Okay.” He looked up at Tony. “Well. What’s next?”

Tony clapped his hands gleefully. “Shopping!”

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

INTERNAL MEMO “The Thule Society Future Debates: Results and Actions”

SESSION NOVEMBER 1991 VOLUME 1

COUNCIL OF REPRESENTATIVES OF CONTINENTAL FACTIONS

Monday, November 30, 1991

ASIA

The dissolution of the U.S.S.R. seems imminent. Local chapters of the Society have prepared for all eventualities and are imprinting new codes and failsafes into each of the Widows to ensure the continued longevity of the program.

EUROPE

The Society has gained foothold in Belgium after the general elections – traditional Christian parties and Socialist parties have lost significant amounts of seats in the House of Representatives to Society sponsored party Vlaams Blok.

Society partners are now hopeful to continue to gain access to several international agencies through their now established foothold in Belgian parliament.

AFRICA

Society groups have successfully destabilised government in Somalia and are currently feeding into the established chaos to continue spreading civil war into the surrounding nations.

NORTH AMERICA

The North American Society has learned of a potential opportunity to obtain the serum needed to proceed with Project Phoenix, provided a suitable genetic match for the Soldier can be obtained.

Recalibration and conditioning of the Soldier has been successful thus far – the Soldier will be sent to eliminate all targets and retrieve the serum. The Soldier’s new handler has assured the North American Society the incident from ’79 will not be repeated.

If proved successful, further responsibilities will be assigned.

Common Floor of the Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York City, U.S.A.

3 p.m., 2

April 2016Steve

“I hate this,” Steve said glumly, staring down at himself with all the air of a defeated man.

Becca snorted a laugh from her seat at the vanity, where Natasha was doing something complicated to her hair. She was already fully dressed, the one-shoulder dark blue gown she’d picked achieving the exact effect they were hoping for—she looked soft and unthreatening, but had a gun strapped to her thigh and a knife to her ankle, and Steve was pretty sure he’d heard Natasha mention something about narcotics hidden in the pearls in her necklace. “Don’t be dramatic,” she said, rolling her eyes at him in the mirror. “I’ve seen you wear much worse than a bespoke suit, Rogers.”

Steve pouted. “It’s just so…” He ran his hands down the soft fabric of the waistcoat. “Fancy. Expensive. I think this suit cost enough to have fed Bucky’s entire family for a month when we were kids.”

Becca shook her head at him and Tony, who had just entered the room, barked a laugh. “Far be it for me to break your socialist little heart, Cap,” he joked, “but you’ll stand out more if you’re less fancy.”

Steve glowered at him but accepted his fate and sat on the large pouf to tie his ridiculously shiny, dark leather shoes. Thor, who had been mostly silent through the entire process, chuckled at Steve’s reticence and pronounced, “I think you look rather dashing, my friend. Shame you could not be adorned in the Aesir formal wear I had fashioned for you, but… This will do.” Steve wrinkled his nose and Thor laughed, clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder companionably. “You cut an impressive figure, and you will do very well to escort my Rebecca to the gala tonight.”

Becca beamed at him from where she sat on her stool, Natasha’s hands still buried in her hair, twisting it onto the top of her head in a complicated mess of intricate braids and loose curls.

Steve grinned lightly and shook his head. He thought he may actually have felt more comfortable in the formal wear Thor had fashioned for each of the Avengers—he was far more used to standing out due to ostentatious and unconventional clothing than due to well-tailored and hideously expensive clothing—but he’d been outvoted.

“Plus, it’ll be a great opportunity to listen in on what Julien Beckers has to say,” Tony pointed out. “If he really is in with Hydra—or whatever it is,” he conceded when Steve made a protesting noise, “he might slip up if we get him drunk enough.”

“What if he switches to Dutch when he’s drunk though?” Steve pointed out reasonably. “I know a little, but mostly curse words and directions.”

Tony snorted derisively and waved his hand lightly. “J.A.R.V.I.S. is programmed into the comms units, so he’ll provide translations if you need any.” He frowned at Steve and added, “I can’t believe you thought I didn’t think of that. I’m hurt, Steven, hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved his hand dismissively and slipped into his suit jacket. He moved to stand in front of the full-length mirror and looked at himself, rubbing his fingers over the light stubble that he’d uncertainly not shaved today. Natasha had insisted, said it made him look less threatening, less All-American goody-two-shoes, and Steve had long since learned not to question her.

He looked… polished. Older.

Not like himself at all.

Becca sidled up next to him, her dress falling over the swell of her belly in smooth, soft folds of dark blue fabric, hair piled on her head in a mess of braids and curls, and she leaned against him playfully, linking their arms together and grinning at him in the mirror.

“We look good, Rogers,” she grinned. “We’re gonna nail this bastard.”

Steve smiled tightly. “Absolutely,” he agreed.

She was right. All they had to do was get in, get some guy drunk, and get back out.

Easy peasy.

They had this.

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

CBS News (@CBSNews) 2 min.

BREAKING: Fire Breaks Out at The Liberty Warehouse in Brooklyn, leaving dozens of guests of the Schliemann Fundraiser Gala outside in the cold! Follow developments here: cbsn.ws/5Ght67

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

The Liberty Warehouse, Red Hook, Brooklyn, New York City, U.S.A.

9:47p.m., 2 April 2016Steve

The fire alarm was still blaring by the time first responders arrived and began ushering frightened, drenched guests dressed in expensive—and now ruined—silks and satins away from the terrace, out into the street and towards the awaiting ambulances. Most were clustered together in little groups, whispering frantically, pointing their phones at the broken glass on the sidewalk and the smoke billowing out from the windows nearest to the second-floor balcony.

Steve stood amidst the chaos and blinked, confused—unsure about what had happened.

Everything—everything had gone so fast.

One minute, he had been dancing with Beckers’ date, trying very hard not to tread on her toes, while Becca chatted happily with the man and plied him with specially developed alcohol provided by Clint, and the and the next, the fire alarm had been pulled, water was spritzing everywhere and he had lost Becca in the urgent throng of people.

He couldn’t see Clint either, but he knew the archer could take care of himself, even though he was somewhat of a human dumpster fire most of the time.

He frowned a little as he moved through the crowd of gossiping partygoers, glancing left and right to try to find Becca. His suit was uncomfortably wet, chafing against his skin as he walked—even his socks were wet—and he really just wanted to find Becca so he could call Happy to take them back to the Tower.

He wasn’t worried about her or about them getting separated—it made some sense.

When the alarm went off, he’d been on the dance floor and had gotten swept out the west fire exit with a group of others who’d been on the dance floor, while he presumed the people at the bar had been led out of the north exit.

He just needed to find someone who knew where the groups of evacuees that had been at the bar had been sent, so that he could find Becca.

The loud blaring of the fire alarm, coupled with the ringing sirens of emergency services, were loud enough to drown out anything Clint or Becca might’ve tried to say to him over the comms, and there’d been something about the building that interfered with their connection in the first place, so he couldn’t even call her, anyway.

A little annoyed, he pulled his phone from his pocket. He exhaled in relief when he noticed he had full bars, and he could text her despite whatever was blocking their comms; although he didn’t expect a response immediately—her phone was in her purse, and Steve wasn’t sure if she’d have thought to grab it off the bar when they were being ushered outside.

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he told himself sternly as he walked around the building slowly, coming across several more groups of guests, none of which contained Becca. ‘She’ll be somewhere around the corner, chatting up Beckers like nothing’s wrong.’

Besides, he reasoned, it wasn’t like she’d activated any of the distress signals Tony had built into her bracelet, earrings, or shoes.

There was probably a really good reason he hadn’t found her yet.

Maybe she was running around the building trying to find him.

Maybe she’d been taken into an ambulance because she was pregnant, to be checked for smoke inhalation, to make sure everything was okay.

He’d find her.

He rounded another corner and breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Beckers, facing Steve and talking to a woman with messy dark hair and a long, one-shoulder dress, who stood with her back to Steve.

Becca.

He exhaled sharply in relief and rushed forward, grasping at the woman’s shoulder and turning her around. “Becca,” he said in a rush, “I’ve been looking everywhere—”

He stopped short as the woman, who was taller than Becca, now that he looked closer, and very much not pregnant, blinked at him in surprise. “Sorry,” he said in an exhale, letting go of her immediately. “I thought you were…” He turned to Beckers, who was also regarding him with wide eyes, and demanded, “You were talking to my friend, earlier, before the alarm. Have you seen her? Did she come outside with you?”

“I can’t say that I have,” Beckers replied, looking convincingly puzzled. “She went to the bathroom shortly before the alarm went off, said something about the baby standing on her bladder. I didn’t see her again. Perhaps she is with another group?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, breathless, dread coiling in the pit of his stomach. “Yeah, probably.”

He turned away and looked around, feeling a little helpless when he still didn’t see her. His hands were trembling a little as he pulled out his phone again.

The message he’d sent to Becca was still unread.

“Fuck,” he said softly, before thumbing through his contacts until he found the one labelled ‘Sugar Daddy’—Tony thought he was funny—and pressed call.

“Spangles,” Tony crowed when he picked up. “What’s going on? Leave it up to you to ruin a perfectly good party by setting the building on fire, honestl—”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted impatiently. “Look, I’m—I’m probably overreacting. It’s pretty chaotic out here, but can you… Can you just have J.A.R.V.I.S. ping Becca’s tracker? I can’t find her, and… God, maybe we’re both trying to find each other and keep missing each other, but—for my peace of mind, can you just—”

“Yeah,” Tony said, and Steve could tell he was trying to sound calm. “Yeah, I got this.”

It only took a few seconds, but in those few seconds, the blaring fire alarm finally cut out, and Steve’s ears were ringing in the silence, his own breath absurdly loud in his ears, before Tony said, “Cap… Steve. Her trackers are all offline.”

The bottom of his stomach fell away.

There wasn’t a way to accidentally disable the subdermal trackers—they had to be cut out and smashed.

“Call in everyone,” he told Tony automatically, unthinkingly, swerving around to survey the crowd again, trying to see if Clint—probably still in disguise—was among them. “I’ll get Clint, we'll canvas the building and the streets, then get back to the Tower ASAP. Maybe she’s just… just around somewhere, or in the building still.”

“Steve,” Tony said, voice low and distressed, and Steve’s stomach twisted.

“I know,” he said shortly. “I know. Get the others.”

“Yeah,” Tony said shakily. “Yeah.”

He hung up and Steve looked around again. How the hell had this night gone so wrong so fast? And who the hell would want to kidnap Becca, of all people, at a gala with a guest list filled with foreign dignitaries and New York’s rich and famous?

And, Steve swallowed thickly, what would they do to her?

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

Start from the beginning:

In Hell We Stand By You:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Never Feel Alone:

(1) (2)

Decisions: (1)

Dancing with a Limp:

(1) (2)

Chances:

(1)

Starting Over:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Dancing in the Rain:

(1) (2)

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D Find the next chapter HERE on Tumblr :)

#stucky #Stucky fanfic #Bucky barnes #Steve rogers #Thor #Rebecca Barnes #avengers family #Lisa writes #dancing in the rain #IHWSBY sequel #my writing

5 notes · View notes

worstshowever · 7 years

Text

Alante & Nevaeh

“Alante & Nevaeh”

Season 6 Episode 2

Original Airdate: March 8, 2017

More Appropriately Titled: Kissin’ Cousins

This season has been full of mooks so far. Here are two more.

Alante emails “A small town guy with a big time love.” Nev immediately finds a way to make this all about him. He shares his dream car is a Cadillac Alante. Wow, big surprise. I learned something about Nev I neither asked for nor wanted to know. Alante is from Saginaw, Michigan. The crowd goes wild because 90% of America’s catfish are in Michigan. For eight (!) years, Alante has been in purgatorial relationship with Nevaeh. Ross and Rachel suggest she could be the female Nev. Please, for the love of God, I do not have the mental strength to handle two Nevs.

Alante has gone to meet her multiple times. However, something always popped up that prevented them from meeting, which is completely shocking and unheard of. He says she disappears for weeks at a time. I also do that, but that’s because I’m rude, crude, and socially unacceptable.

They get Alante on the horn. He met Nevaeh online when he was a senior in high school. They spoke for years, but it only got serious when they swapped heart and kissy face emojis.

*Looks into the camera like Jim Halpert*

I look into the camera like Jim Halpert for the following reasons:

1) Millennials are stupid. 2017 is stupid. The future is stupid.

2) The art of communication is dead. Aristotle would be horrified.

3) My mom literally just told me she needs attention.

Alante and Nevaeh have Skyped, but she’s always been in a pitch-black room. Nev musters up the strength to talk about someone other than himself. He asks Alante if he sees how suspicious all these moving pieces are. Alante says, “I try not to think of it like that.” I don’t think he’s thought much about the mechanics of this relationship.

Nev starts rambling some garbage about how this will be the one! She will be who she says she is! It’s mad trash. This is why you should sign my WhiteHouse.gov petition to have me replace Nev. Max completely ignores Nev’s barf-worthy sentiment because he, like myself, has common sense.

They're off to see the wizard.

They arrive in Saginaw. Surprisingly, Nev rings the doorbell instead of letting himself in uninvited. After chatting for a few minutes, Max does something very Nev-like and asks if Nevaeh’s tiny girl brain is capable of keeping up with Alante’s highly intellectual wit. Trust me, he’s no rocket scientist.

Alante tells Phoebe and Joey that he and Nevaeh spoke all day long until Jimmy Hoffa here suddenly disappeared for months at a time. She would reappear and pick up the conversation as if nothing had happened. Way to keep the upper hand, girl.

Alante has seen eight photos of Nevaeh in the last eight years. The stress of not knowing her is causing him hair loss. He was recently hospitalized due to the stress she brings him. I dead-ass don't even have a joke for this. Some people deserve to get catfished. We’ve seen plenty of bozos over the years deserve it. Nev definitely deserved it. Now this guy (eight years!).

Nev drives recklessly through a parking lot and then they arrive at their off-brand Starbucks. Alante sends Monica and Chandler all the dirty deets and we learn Nevaeh has two phone numbers.

*Looks into the camera like Jim Halpert*

I look into the camera like Jim Halpert for the following reasons:

1) He should know better. Midwesterners are smarter than folks from the rest of the country. Think about the mental fortitude it takes to endure a -30 degree winter. It takes some brains to do that and not die. As a midwesterner from the greatest state in the union (Illinnoying), I am ashamed.

2) I have nothing for this point. I did, but it’s in an argument with someone about how it’s pop, not soda. Politely, of course.

The google image search yields results. Nevaeh is really Audrey. She has 13,000 Instagram followers. As they look through her Facebook, a producer tells them how to insert their usernames into the URL to look at their friendship and see what they've posted to each other. They marvel as if this is a great hack. However, Facebook has a button called, “See Friendship.” This is a prime example of why no one, especially the kale eating, trendy exercise-doing west coast, can measure up to the great midwest. If you want kale in the midwest, you gotta farm it. But I digress.

Alante and Nevaeh have 46 mutual friends, which is a lot for a fake profile. All their mutuals are in Saginaw. They send out the Catfish miranda rights to all 46 friends.

They google the phone number, excuse me, ONE of the phone numbers and learn it belongs to a Latoya in Saginaw. They do their super cool cutting edge new hack and find she and Alante have 23 mutual friends. I don't think this means anything at all and has contributed nothing to this search but what do I know. I only went to one of Newsweek’s top high schools and one of Forbes’ top 50 colleges. Both in the midwest.

One of their 46 new best friends messages them back, so they decide to come on too strong and give him a call. Royon tells Rachel and Monica he was recently flirting with Nevaeh on Facebook.

Max then says something so white, it’s wearing a polo shirt on a golf course; “She’s hollering at guys in Saginaw.”

The next morning, Nev tells Max he continued on with Nev’s Catfish, written, directed, produced, and hosted by Nev and nobody else. He spoke to two more fellas from Saginaw. They both said Nevaeh flirted with them on Facebook. I do not know if the intended purpose of sharing this information was to show the wide net cast by this catfish or to needlessly slut-shame her, but either way, they achieved their goal.

They head over to Alante’s house. He’s hosting a barbecue. The guests of honor lucky enough to meet handsome, rational Max are Alante’s brother, Joe, and his godsister, Ericka. Ericka’s chest and shoulders are all tatted up and I think women who tattoo their chest are mad brave. She says she hopes Alante gets the closure he needs because eight years is quite a long time to string someone along. She is also positive Nevaeh is a girl. I love this juicy lil diddy, so keep it in mind as we continue on this adventure.

Joe and I have almost the same pair of glasses, so I’m going to trust whatever he says. As he puts nearly a whole hot dog in his mouth, he tells Nev he hopes Nevaeh can cook. Maybe I won’t trust what he says because that’s really not our top concern right now.

Ross and Chandler sit down to show Alante the deer they shot on their hunting trip. As they open Audrey’s (the real girl’s) blog, the recoil hits Alante right in the eye. Nev shows Alante his and Nevaeh’s mutual friends. He asks if he recognizes anyone. Wow, c’est incroyable, Alante recognizes his Facebook friends. Nev then takes a tone as if Alante was the one who asked such a stupid question. To kick him while he’s down, Nev tells Alante Nevaeh is flirting with other fellas on Facebook.

They show him Latoya’s Facebook. He does not recognize her. MTV plays an angsty song about pain and love lost.

Nev shoots the ole gal a very demanding text. Right as Alante falls apart emotionally, Joey and Monica decide to leave. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Cool glasses, huh? However, mine are gold all the way around.

In the car, Nev gets a call from Seiairah, Nevaeh’s friend. She asks to meet them. The goons are concerned this is a trap. A trap for what. You’re two grown men with an MTV camera crew. What’s gonna happen to you.

They meet Seiairah at what I can only assume is an abandoned gas station where teenagers smoke beer at night. Seiairah is good friends with both Nevaeh and Alante. She says there’s more to Nevaeh than they know and she wants her to come clean. She offers to call Nevaeh since Ross and Phoebe have been unable to get in touch with her. Sieairah does the job MTV is paying them a million dollars to do. Nevaeh will meet them at a park in an hour.

They meet up with Alante and, shockingly, Nev breaks character and doesn’t storm into his house uninvited. Alante confirms he knows Sieairah and she has a big crush on him. Sieairah looked like she was 16, so naturally, Nev says something gross and disgusting. “A little young. She’s cute. Not sure what your hangup is on that.”

*Looks into the camera like Jim Halpert*

I look into the camera like Jim Halpert for the following reasons:

1) I am disgusted.

2) I am appalled.

3) I am legend.

Max does not touch this with a ten foot pole because he’s not a human dumpster fire.

The squad arrives at the park. Nev’s gross comment is followed by something equally cringeworthy. Nevaeh is Ericka, Alante’s godsister. I don’t totally know what a godsister is, I barely know what god is, but if you were raised together and/or have “sister” in your title, should you really be in a romantic relationship.

Ericka says this was a lesson Alante needed to learn. Eight years ago, Serairah had a crush on Alante. To prove he was a dirty dog, Ericka made the Facebook page to show her he talks to other girls. She says she continued the page for so long at Sieairah’s direction and chose her side over Alante’s as some sort of womanly solidarity. Nev calls her on her bullshit.

Nev takes Alante on a man walk to discuss man topics as men. Alante maintains he never had any feelings for Sieairah and never led her to believe he did. Handsome, thoughtful Max stays with Ericka. She tells him she never came clean because she wanted to let him down gently. What’s more gentle than a national television audience and the court of public opinion!

The next morning, Nev performs a classic Nev action and barges into the house without knocking as if he is claiming it under Taliban law. He calls Ericka to come over and “talk calmly.” Nev finds all women to be hysterical and incapable of controlling their emotions.

Ericka has arrived and she knocked like a normal person who wasn’t raised in a barn on the Upper West Side. She says, “If you hurt me, I’m going to get you.” Yes! We’re finally getting somewhere. I wanna know the petty reason someone stuck with catfishing for eight years.

Back when Bush was still president, Ericka began dating one of Alante’s friends. We learn he was a dog and Alante knew but didn't warn her. They dated on and off for seven years. At that point, it’s Ericka’s fault. Come on. This guy wasn't into Ericka and Alante knew but didn't tell her.

Ericka gets honest and says she loved the attention she got from being Nevaeh. The two establish their friendship is over and Ericka leaves in tears.

Three months later, Ericka and Alante are on the Skype together. His dad passed away and mourning brought the two back together. Ericka is expecting. Nev practices his best gotcha journalism when he asks who’s the father. He looks like a local Toledo reporter who once had New York City dreams. Nev was sure he was going to end the episode with an M. Night Shyamalan twist. Nice try, Nev.

Recommendation: 3/5 Would Recommend. I'm a fan of any episode in which we meet a middle (wo)man before we meet the catfish. Plus, this one had a good creep factor because of the godsibling aspect. However, their relationship was not high-drama enough to justify eight years. That's fucking insane.

Final Thoughts: I apologize for the quantity of rants and advertisements promoting the midwest. However, I do NOT apologize for what I said. Midwest is best. Follow me on Twitter @MaeveMcDonough I was just told by my boss to clean it up, so you know it’s good.

#catfish #catfish the tv show #catfish recap #catfish season 6 #alante and nevaeh #nev and max #max joseph #nev schulman #mtv #comedy #comedy writing #tv recap #reality tv #humor

10 notes · View notes

5point9million-blog · 5 years

Text

This Is The Day...

Well.. let me start off with this. My landlord called me yesterday while I was at work and asked me about my rent money. The backstory to that is that I stay in a place called Oxford House. That’s an organization that came together to allow housing for the recovering addict. Within these homes, addicts get together to help support one another. On top of the rules that you have to go to meetings, we also have to maintain the household. All the bills are split between the residing house members. So with that being said, because there are only 4 members in the house (including me), we have been slacking on playing the bills.

Now it is my understanding, that because this is a house regulated under this organization that there are certain particular members that should maintain membership by inviting potential roommates to join the house at all times. Truth is this isn’t my house and salesmanship isn’t my forte. So for me to be able to maintain a certain number of people in the house should only be my responsibility to a certain degree.

With the threat of the water being shut off, I took it upon myself to pay the first portion of the bill to keep it on. There have been talks of us moving within these past couple of weeks to a new house. Yet at the same time, we still have to live here. The landlord refuses to do repairs in the proper manner. Everyone is throwing blame on everyone else. And most of the members are talking about moving to a place that is not under the Oxford’s thumb (myself included).

It was discussed on Monday that we were (or are) short on the rent $280 and that money should be split in 4 ways and paid by Friday (today). I told the house that I do not have it because I already spent my money on the water bill. I told everybody this in group as well as individually. What really trips me out is the simple fact that 2 people in this house said that they won’t pay the money as well because the landlord already started the eviction process and just wants to get more money out of us in the long run.

So, fast forward the tape to yesterday. I get the call from the landlord and she tells me that I am the only one who did not pay this money and if I did not pay that she will have the police escort me off the property. She told me that I better find the money somewhere and I better find it by 11am (yesterday). So my last words to her was, “Well... I don’t have it.”

I got that phone call around 10:20am yesterday. I went on a 30 break at 10:54am. and never got any type of return call from her. So I said my little gripes to my godsister, Candice (who is one of the managers at Taco Bell & how I got the job in the first place), and did my job. I worked my hours, clocked out and then came back home. When I got in the house, I said “wassup” to my roommates as I came in the door. They returned the salutation but said nothing else to me about anything. We were supposed to get together with one of the Oxford reps and that was when we would present the $70. But I guess the meeting never happened.

Due to the fact that my hours are always switching from day to night. My sleep schedule is way out of wack. I ended up coming in the house, heading down here to my room and going straight to sleep. I ended up waking up around 2 in the morning and staying up until around 6ish. I got around 9. Got dressed and then went back to work.

I worked a straight 6 hours at work and then came home.

Nobody still hasn’t said a thing to me about anything.

In other news, so I talked to Trenny about a bunch of stuff. She was telling me about all the good news that she received that day. Most importantly was that (1) she has a job interview on Monday and it seems very promising. and (2) she planned on renting a car from Lyft so she can drive for them. The backstory to the second piece is that her cousin signed her up and had her all set to get the car but she didn’t have the money. She was supposed to get the car on Monday. So, fast forward the tape to Wednesday night, and I am talking to her on the phone. I believe this was around the time that I was typing the last post and I said that I got her on the line.

So we got to talking about how much the car costs and potential dates that she could get the car and if it was even plausible. Her plan was to wait until she got paid on the 2nd to get the car then. So I made the proposal to her that I give her the money for the car but she would then have to make up the money to pay her car insurance (because I already had the money put up for that). So she set it up that she would get the car on Friday (today) and she would grind it out and make up for the lost of the insurance payment. The insurance doesn’t need to be paid until Tuesday at the latest. So she has a couple of days to make the money.

I didn’t talk with her last night because I went straight to sleep.

I tried calling her on my break today, but I guess she was busy with “work stuff”. So I tried to call her back after I got off. Frustrated because I haven’t heard from her and didn’t know if she got the car or not. I text her simply, “Did you get the car??” She promptly texted me back, “Yes. I’m driving now.” So I text her back, “Cool. Call me later.”

That was around 6:30pm

It’s now 12:03am

So I tried to lay down and go to sleep but ended up laying here in bed for about 3 hours. Then I got up and did a bunch of stuff for 3 hours and now here we are. I don’t want to draw any conclusions but because of what happened 2 weeks ago, I am not even sure about our relationship any more. She told me that we didn’t break up but we just don’t feel the same.

I try to get my mind off of it and act as if everything is the same but deep down it doesn’t feel the same. She doesn’t talk to me the same way that she used to. She doesn’t call me the same way that she used to. And we really haven’t seen each other since that night.

Yet... I still have on the ring she gave me for our engagement. I still talk to her and treat her the same. I even made sure to not only pay for our phone bills but gave her the first payment on her car so that she can be able to make some extra cash. And she talked about all the opportunities that she will be afforded to to be able to help her kids and for her to move out... but she never mentions me and what she would do for me.

But I get it.

I am on my own level of getting myself together. I am listening to the speakers of A.A. every morning and talking to my sponsor. I am only a week and a half sober and there is a lot going on in this house and I need to focus on where I am going to be living a couple of weeks from now. So I can’t 100% blame her for the lack of contact or intimate talk. There needs to be some time and space from that night for things to ever be normal again. I am not even sure when would be the next appropriate time for me to even see the kids again.

I mean I know that they know that their mother still talks to me on the phone. Yet I don’t know what she tells them when I am not on the phone either. She might just tell them that everything is off and that she is just talking to me for moral support to help me get my life back in order.

I don’t know.

But that’s just the thing. I really don’t want to know. Partly because I know that I could do better. That this event was a perfect out for me and if she decides for us to be just friends then I would be perfectly fine with that. I would just go and promote my books. Get money and find some other chick... for real for real. Of course, I love her and I would do anything to be with her but I am not going to force myself back into that fantasy world that I used to live in either.

The world where all my everything is wrapped up around her and I can’t live or breathe unless she is happy.

No. I am going to continue on with life and just see where it may lead me. Again, like I said in the most previous posts, I am not sure what that may include but I am focused on improving myself. Next month, I plan on setting up a transfer of $2 per day into my saving account. Then when that reaches $60, I will pay FB the money that I owe them. Then I will continue to allow that said $2 to be taken out each day and that said money will go to promoting my book on FB to my target audience. It won’t be much but it will be better than nothing. Maybe I can generate enough side hustle money to get my branding together and really get my music career off and running....

like I said... I don’t know.

We will see.

With Love,

5.9 Million

0 notes