edges retirement

anonymous asked:

You are so cool man. Okay, I just got into investing as in I opened an account with bank of america merrill edge for retirement but haven't done anything else. I know I should like buy safe stocks and stuff, but I am so wary of researching this. like i just don't trust sources that i google or magazines (my dad was interested in stocks and lost a lot of money so I just can't trust him or those magazines). I see that you have set up different markets (target retirement, inflation protected), (1/2

(2/2) and other funds. How did you get started? Where did you research? Like books or things. Thank you for your time!

Aw, thank you Anon! So, this is a little bit of a narrative, buckle up. (There is a readmore below! Read more!) 

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anonymous asked:

Bucky loses some of his edge after semi-retiring & becoming a dad. Normally he's still a pretty light sleeper but one day he's just tired enough to sleep through his kid using all of her glitter glue on his metal arm & you're just tired enough to let her do it. He wakes up a couple hours later to a glittery blue arm & his kid asleep on his chest. You're sitting across the room & w/ a shrug you're like "She was pretty careful about avoiding the gaps between the plates so I just let it happen..."

“I kind of dig it actually” he smiles, watching the glitter reflect in the light. 

Daddy Thursday™

@maxarmenta thanks for the prompt! lol what i’m not having an existential crisis

Seventeen. A number of possibility and uncertainty, at the cusp of adulthood and near the end of childhood. Pacifica celebrated it in true Northwest style with a bash that would have made any other teenage girl pale with envy. The balloons, the food, the sparkling cider, the music - and Pacifica was the centerpiece of the night, crowned with a dainty gold tiara. She swept around the hall in whimsical periwinkle chiffon, glowing in the chandelier light as she chatted and laughed with her friends. For all the guests, young and old, it was like a page from a fairytale, and Pacifica was the Princess of the evening.

As the guests filed out into the dark night amid a lazy snowfall, the facade began to crack around the edges. Her parents retired to their room with a kiss on each cheek, and Pacifica was left with the staff as they cleaned up. The teardown was quick and efficient: balloons were gathered and carried away; the silver serving trays were piled high with empty glasses; confetti and glitter was swept away; the music went silent.

Feeling useless in a roomful of people with purpose, Pacifica escaped up the staircase. However, instead of returning to bed, she stayed straight at the top of the staircase and pushed open the french patio door to the balcony.

The February air chilled her, but she stepped out onto the balcony in nothing but her sleeveless dress. She watched her breath curl into the air in a puff of smoke, and disappear just as quickly. It unsettled her, how minimal her impression was on the indifferent cold.

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Twice in the history of Extreme Rules and its predecessor One Night Stand was the vacant World Heavyweight Championship contested for with ladders involved. The first time was in 2008, where Edge conquered The Undertaker in TLC to win his third World Title. The second occasion was three years later, when the recently-retired Edge helped Christian defeat Alberto Del Rio in a Ladder match to win his first World Heavyweight Championship, just weeks after the Rated R Superstar vacated the gold.

“The time has come to tell you all something very personal. I keep my ear to the ground and I hear everything everybody says. And for the past year and a half the words ‘pipe bomb’ have been completely misunderstood and misused. It doesn’t seem anybody in the Universe understands what it means; anybody in this company doesn’t understand what a pipe bomb is. Basically what a pipe bomb is in its truest form is the truth. It’s honesty. You boil it down and then the essence of a pipe bomb is exactly what all of you lack, honesty. Seems the perception of me is somebody who is a little disgruntled and sat down on a stage in Las Vegas and aired his grievances and said 'pipe bomb’. I became the voice of the voiceless. And then maybe my ego was like a runaway train and I suddenly bitched and moaned and complained about respect and how I didn’t get enough of it. And then I turned my back on the people. 

Well, that’s a lie. Don’t be mistaken. I meant everything I said when I said it. Except the part about ice cream 'cause I look out here and the last thing any of you people need is more bars of ice cream. But I was shortchanged and I was disrespected, and sure, I could have just swallowed that bitter pill and accepted my position in the company like everybody else in the back, or I could have left. Instead I made a conscious decision and I sold out. To you. To you I sold out, to me I cashed in. See, I created this persona, this rebel, this anti hero that you all love to cheer for because I knew that you all love to cheer for your superheroes. Because here is the truth about Las Vegas, here is the truth about the WWE is that it doesn’t matter that if you’re the best wrestler, it doesn’t matter if you’re the best talker, it doesn’t matter if you’re the best overall performer, it doesn’t matter if you make the two clowns sitting to my left on commentary look like amateur hour. There is a glass ceiling and nobody is allowed to break it. That’s the simple story of this place. The more popular you are, the more money you make. The more you people cheer for any given superstar, the more opportunities you’re afforded. Why do you think a guy like John Cena, who has admittedly had the worst year of his career, gets title shot after title shot after title shot after title shot? Or why a lethal grappler, why a serious submission specialist like Daniel Bryan puts a smile on his face and settles himself, belittles himself with catchphrases. Or why a 400 pound monster, Brodus Clay, soils his hands by touching your filthy, ugly, little children to get in the ring so he can shuck and jive for you. Or why an invisible child, Little Jimmy, is better positioned on the flagship show Monday Night RAW than a workhorse like Tyson Kidd. 

Look at them, they’re doing it now. You’re doing it now! You’re falling for everything I say, you’re playing into my hands, but this is the way it is and this is the way you want it because this is the way you handle it. It’s easy, it's [???], it’s simple to digest because you people can’t handle anything complicated, you people can’t stomach anything interesting. This is the way it’s been since the beginning of the time. We’re all here in the circus to entertain you. And nobody’s ever been able to attain a modicum of success without you. 

Except for now. Until I showed up. I’ve become the most successful WWE champion of all time. Not of the modern era. No, that’s another little buzzword that somebody backstage wants you to say. They probably wanna put it on a t-shirt. But that’s the way you get noticed. You don’t get noticed until you start to move a couple of t-shirts around here. If I— if I competed in Bruno Sammartino’s era, I’d have been champion for 20 years, too. No, I’d have been champion for 30 years. Because wrestling one night a month at Madison Square Garden is easy. You never see a Hulk Hogan wrestle TLC matches against a superstar like Ryback. Because he had it easy. I wrestle physically demanding matches on free television, week in and week out. So much that my one year equals 30 of theirs. And I have attained this success, not— not because of you. I am successful not because of you. I am successful in sprite of you. 

Now, I’m the most honest man in this building, I’m the most honest man in this company 'cause everybody else has got the same, old, tired crybaby story. They’ll come out here and they’ll say 'I do it for the people, I do it for all of you. Let’s hear it for Tampa, Florida!’ Here’s some honesty. I watched Roddy Piper smash a coconut over Jimmy Snuka’s head and I sure as hell didn’t say 'Golly Gee! I can’t wait to go electrify the people of Tamba Bay, Florida.’ No! Because I don’t care about the people of Tampa Bay, Florida. 

There’s good guys and there’s bad guys in this world and make no mistake about it, ladies and gentlemen, I am a bad, bad man and I can freely admit it. But Ric Flair will come out here and he’ll cry his 182 year eyes out and say 'Oh, I did it for all of you’. ["Wooo!”] Now they’re wooing. Shawn Michaels can come out here and lose his smile and find his smile, but then in a— in a tearful Hall of Fame speech he’ll say that his entire career was just to gain your acceptance. Then a man like Edge is forced to retire and he’ll say that he misses competing for people like you. Now, these people, these men are either weak or they’re dishonest and they’re liars. It’s either one or the other. But I— I’m neither weak nor dishonest. I’m the best in the world. 

Two types of people on this earth. Those born to be in the spotlight and those born to pay to see the people in the spotlight. Ladies and gentlemen, there’s winner and losers. Guess which one you are. You’re born to pay to see champions like me, it’s not the other way round. And I’ll be the first guy to come out here and admit it, I’m honest. I have never ever done this for any of you. There’s superstars and there’s nobodies. I am a superstar, you are all nobodies. And I’m a real superstar. Those real superstars, hell, if they’re your friends, why don’t they come out here and give you the millions and millions of dollars they earn? Why don’t they lie in your pockets? 'Cause that's— that’s not your position on earth. 

Uh, I’m being told that we have to take a commercial break. I’m not done, let me explain something to you. Let me explain something to everybody in the truck. We don’t go to break when you wanna go to break. We go to break when the champ wants to go to break. Listen up and understand something 'cause the Rock’s gonna come out here and he’s gonna talk a whole lot. Well, I will now tell you the most important thing you’re gonna hear tonight. You do not matter, you do not matter, you do not matter. None of you matter. What you want doesn’t matter. 

I stand here on the first RAW of 2013, your WWE champion and I promise you, in one year’s time I will stand in this ring on the first RAW of 2014 still your WWE champion. What fuels me is your constant disappointment in your self-appointed superheroes to be able to drag this title away from me. And now the Rock has come back, but it’s not gonna change the fact that I’m the WWE champion and I’m not gonna let the Rock tear down everything that I’ve fought so hard to attain. No, no, no, no, not at all. You know, in 2011 when I defeated Alberto Del Rio for this title at Madison Square Garden, I didn’t just beat Alberto Del Rio. I beat the system. And every time after that when I beat one of your superheroes, and I don’t care if it was John Cena, Ryback, Chris Jericho, Kane, Big Show, Dolph Ziggler, any of the ??? superstars that I’ve defeated, I wasn’t just beating them, I was beating all of you. And for 414 days that’s exactly what I’ve done. In your face, jerks. I have beaten you. I have stomped you out under my oppressive boot and I’m gonna do the same thing to the Rock because I don’t care if he’s back. You all do not get to win. You are losers. You do not get to win. You do not—" 

WWE showed an Edge retirement package, talked about Christian not wrestling anymore, had Ryback talk about depression and there is a possibility of DBry retiring. 

Whoever wrote this episode of Raw is severely suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder. 

As if You'd Let Me

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Prompt- Bucky feels like he’s a ticking time bomb. At any point he could snap and hurt his light. She disagrees.
The one where Bucky wants to break it off with the reader to protect her, but she doesn’t let him.

Words: 1,732

Warnings: Some language

A/N: First story, sorry if it’s absolute crap. On the bright side, it can only get better from here…hopefully. I feel very bleh about the end.

He’s been thinking about if for months.

Steve, Sam, and Natasha all call him ridiculous whenever he brings it up, but ever since his relapse during a mission, he knows he can’t pretend anymore. He can’t pretend as if he didn’t go through seventy years of hell that had messed him up beyond the norm.

“I’m a ticking time bomb.” Bucky had argued. He felt a little bad when Bruce winced. “It’s only a matter of time before I hurt her.”

“Buck, you’ve improved so much. You can’t let yourself think like that.” Steve interjected.

“It was only a small relapse, Barnes. You shook yourself out of it before you could do much damage.” Natasha added.

“Relapses are to be expected. She knows what she signed up for when she agreed to start dating you. And she knows what to do when that happens. So relax, enjoy this great thing you’ve got with her.” Sam explained.

Bucky shook his head. “Maybe girls know what to expect with normal soldiers. But as you all know, I’m anything but normal.”

He leaves before they can reply.

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Morning Run
Author: meangreenlimabean

Original Imagine Link:Imagine being one of the people who crossed paths with Soulless Sam.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2218

Fic: (Also on AO3)

There were only two cars in the parking lot when I pulled in. Not surprising, since it was before dawn, and not many people chose to pay extra for twenty-four hour access to the gym. One of the cars probably belonged to Wayne. He had retired from my precinct a few years ago. Like me, he doesn’t like small talk, so we both exercise outside regular hours to avoid the crowd.

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It is just so disheartening knowing that just over a year ago he was on top of the world in the WWE. Winning titles, main eventing RAW/PPVs, won the big one at WrestleMania, and just getting to live out his dream. I guess if you want to look at this positively, he thankfully gets to walk out on his own two feet and not in a wheelchair. Daniel Bryan had one hell of a career whether you want to admit it or not. He made a name for himself after getting fired from WWE only to be brought back several months later. He lost at Mania in 18 fucking seconds lol, but in the end that match is what helped him out even more. Through all the bullshit he went through he accomplished so much in such a little amount of time. He gets to look back at all those moments and realize that all of it was worth it. Like Edge said in his retirement speech, “If you ask me if I’d travel all the roads, hop on all the flights, all the sleepless nights, all the surgeries, all of the injuries, all of it….if you’d ask me if I’d do it again…….in a heartbeat.” And I bet Daniel Bryan will say the same. So in the end let us be happy that we got to watch this guy live out his dream and just enjoy what he loves to do…..wrestling. Thank you Daniel Bryan.

The penthouse was brightly lit with colorful furniture and large open windows, the only stain in the otherwise flawless home was the scum that is Morgan Edge whom stood over the bar pouring tumblers of scotch for himself and Kal. “I have a new job for you. For only you. It would take a man of your caliber to execute such a request.” Morgan went on in his raspy, weak tone that had been faded out by many cigars and scotch over the years. “There’s this club- you ever heard of it?” the card along with the glass of scotch was handed down to Kal who sat on a winding couch made of white leather. “Yeah, I have. It’s only the hottest most covert club there is. I had to use my talents to get in.” Kal admitted, then reverted his green hues to the flat-screen television in front of him. However his attention to the football game had crawled toward the back of his mind and his interest in what Morgan wanted was peaked, not that he would show it. He’d rather play aloof and make Morgan beg for his help. “Well this club had made quite the splash all over my business. We’re soaked in its venom. I want you to help me convince them to tie in with us.” Morgan decided he had been hovering long enough and finally took a seat- but this didn’t help Kal’s demeanor, he still looked standoffish. “You know, I’m really getting sick of this job. It’s not that fun anymore. I may retire.” If Edge could, he’d rip Kal’s head off, but he couldn’t and so he settled for biting the inside of his cheek to keep calm and not yell. “What if I did something for you? In return for your service?” Kal looked from the corner of his eye and snorted as if to say there was nothing in this world or any other that he could offer him. “I know about that burn on your chest, I know about the red kryptonite on your finger. What I don’t know is why you continue to wear it even though it’s killing you. But what I do know is I could help…. I have some of the best doctors in my pocket, you wouldn’t have to be in pain anymore.” Very observant, Kal thought. It was the burn that keeps him from wearing the ring for too long. His biological father, now nothing more than an artificial intelligence hosted from an ice fortress in the artic, burned a symbol into his torso. He wished for him to return home and to start his destiny, but Clark rebelled against it when he destroyed the ship which resulted in a sonic boom and injured his mother, killing her unborn child- his sister. The longer Clark wears the red-k  the more it effects his judgement- Jor-El uses the burn to force Clark to remove the ring but Clark never leaves it off for too long before slipping it back on and reabsorbing its influences over him. He has to stay numb after all that he’d done, he just has to. “Fine – there is something you could do for me,” Kal smirked, turning off the television and pivoting his body so that he was looking directly at Morgan Edge. “I’ll help you get your club- and you help me kill my father.” 


The club was just as lit as it were any other night. The DJ had the best beats, as if compelled to spin the sickest music ever. The dancers all had bodies of goddesses, especially Seraphina whom had just sashayed out on stage with a huge snake draped over her petite frame. Kal swallowed thick, his heart accelerating as he was drawn closer to the stage. Suddenly a hand went around his shoulder to stop him from getting any closer and though Kal could just as easily break his entire arm, he didn’t. “Trust me, I know she’s pretty. But we have rules here.” Kal turned to face this guy, though he didn’t want to miss a blink of what this girl had going on. “Yeah, I’m sorry, buddy. I don’t do rules.” A smirk touched the corners of his lips, eyes sparkling like he’d just asked a woman to marry him. It was hard to believe such nastiness left a mouth that looked like his; pouty lips, perfect bone structure, and eyes that shimmered like sapphire. “I’m here on behalf of Morgan Edge. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. He’s your competition, but not anymore. He’d like to extend a hand – join you guys and share all profit.” Kal looked back onto the stage, wanting to nothing more than to sit down and let her entrance him, but unfortunately he had business to do. “Yeah- we don’t need Morgan Edge’s connection. He’s a con-man. He’s dirty- he has blood stains between his grubby little fingers that dates back decades. Tell your boss, thanks but no thanks.” Kal ignored him- still watching Seraphina glow. “Look, you can stay for the show. Just don’t make me have to get ugly by the end of it.” That drew Kal’s attention back, his face a mixture of amusement and impatience. “What was that? I’m sorry. Did you just choose plan: B? God, I love plan: B. it means I get to unleash this…this insatiable anger that lives inside me, clawing, fighting to get out. And once I let it take over – there’s no turning it off.” The stage light glinted off of a desert eagle that was now pointed right between Kal’s eyes. Though not a bead of sweat came to surface, Kal looked as indifferent as he did 30 seconds prior to the gun being shoved in his face. “Cowboys and Indians, it’s been a long time since I’ve played this game.” Boyishly savage, Kal gave a picture-perfect smile and then punched a hole through the man’s chest. The gun had gone off and the bullet ricocheted, killing the man who was slipping money into the dancer’s thong, blood misted her face and Kal turned apologizing with mocked shame as he dropped the messy heart from his fist. “But at least you got the money first, right?” and there it was, that smirk as cool as the ocean but as dark as its bottom.

Before Kal had even the slightest of chance in turning back around to face the crowd and demand order, gun fire had commenced and there was an all-out war. Bullets were bouncing off the super-powered assassin like it was target practice, every single man and woman bearing a firearm was using it. The entire room had filled with smoke and only then did the bullets cease, however when the fog cleared everyone was surprised not to find a body riddled with holes. Then on stage materialized a man, his clothes all torn, his skin charcoaled, but his smirk still intact- and to his left under his arm was Seraphina, his hostage. “Your guns don’t work on me. Let’s play us a new game? Cowboys and Indians is fun, but hide and seek is so much better.” In a flash he was gone. 

Outback in the warehouse where they conducted their seediest of business, Kal stood a few feet from Seraphina who he let go and left unharmed. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not here to hurt you – or anyone. My boss wants a piece of this club.” after a moment of nothing but gasps and the sound of a pounding heart, Kal retried. “You’re safe, I promise.”