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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 07 part two

(Masterpost)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Lantern Lighting

Now we have the famous lantern scene, where everybody gets to express their character and have dates, ranging from disastrous to delightful, with the objects of their affection.

Wei Wuxian continues to be ridiculously good at drawing.

We’ve all seen Lan Wangji’s lovely first smile in the show a million times, so...let’s look at it again!

This scene is important not just because of the smile, but because there’s a distinct shift in the way they talk about their growing relationship. In the pond, it was “come visit me” and “never!” “I want to be your friend” “No need.” Basically Lan Wangji firmly saying no to Wei Wuxian’s offers of friendship.

This time, Wei Wuxian says “let’s do this together” and Lan Wangji says “I’m used to being alone,” which is not actually a No, just an explanation. And WWX says, you can change that. And then Lan Wangji DOES change it, sharing the lantern and the promise with Wei Wuxian.

Whoever painted this flower is even better than Wei Wuxian at plein air painting.

(more after the cut!)

Everybody’s wishes

Nie Huasang makes a practical wish. Wen Qing prays for her brother and Jiang Cheng notices how she’s like Yanli. Jiang Cheng isn’t very intense about Wen Qing, which could be a sign of his shyness but could also be a sign of his gayness or aceness. After all, later in life he’s an apparently wealthy clan leader who is hot as fuck, and needs an heir, since his nephew is a Jin. But he’s still not married, 16 years after breaking up with and uh, helping to kill and cremate, the girl he liked in summer school.

The Promise We Made Together

Wei Wuxian makes an ultra-idealistic wish/promise while Lan Wangji watches and falls the rest of the way in love with him, and silently makes the same pledge inside his head. Later they will each refer to this as a promise they made together, which is a really super high level of face-reading by Wei Wuxian, to understand that he really is speaking for both of them here. While making this promise, Lan Wangji brings out his Yin Iron Magic Bag and waves it around in front of everyone, but nobody notices.

Let’s take a moment to consider *why* this moment is so powerful for Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji is a boy whose emotions are always on the boil. He’s 100% upset all the time, at this age, and he keeps it clamped down all the time. His cultivation level is probably as high as it is partly because of all the work he does in emotion regulation. (note: if you haven’t read all the meta at @howpeacefulislwj , go read it; it’s awesome and hilarious)

Wei Wuxian doesn’t GAF about emotion regulation; he just expresses what he feels, all the damn time.

He is openly bored, lusty, playful, hungry, whiny. He straight up tells Lan Wangji “you’re boring and you have a stick up your ass” as part of saying he wants to be friends; no deference and also no falseness.

And he can see right through Lan Wangji’s reserve, barging into his loneliness and isolation without any regard for all of his wards. Wards are made to be broken.

(Unrelated note: Young Lan Wangji's rare moments of contentment seem to come from looking at something beautiful--the moon, falling petals, these lanterns, his mirror.)

But Wei Wuxian is also good. Lan Wangji desperately wants to be good. And here’s Wei Wuxian embodying this awful, amazing, tempting alternative path, in which all the interesting things in life get explored thoroughly, all the sweetness and beauty gets consumed unreservedly, all the pain and ugliness gets confronted and endured without hesitation.

In this moment, Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji “you can change,” and then offers up this prayer/promise that is just pure chivarly, speaking straight to Lan Wangji’s heart. Very simply, I want to spend my life doing right. Not 3500 rules; just one.

This infuriating boy, who breaks rules and who flirts indiscriminately and who pushes and pushes and pushes, reveals himself in this moment to be a hero at the beginning of his journey, and Lan Wangji sees it, and his heart goes right over the cliff.

The Girls’ Room

The girl cultivators all rush over to Yanli to get in her business about her betrothal, inspiring Jin Zixuan to act like a jerk to her and get even further onto Wei Wuxian’s bad side.

Talk Shit, Get Hit

Yanli’s wish was that Wei Wuxian would grow up and be good. He promptly launches his own personal Sunshot campaign, punching her fiancee so hard that the sun falls out of the sky and the previously well-lit scene transitions to full night.

So, in English, “don’t mention it again” is really mild, akin to “I don’t want to talk about it.” Wei Wuxian’s reaction makes it seem like Jin Zixuan said something really shitty, like “don’t you dare mention that woman to me!” So I’m assuming something is being lost in translation.

Lan Wangji tries to calm him down. He grabs Wei Wuxian’s sexy arm muscle and basically holds it until the Jiangs exit the scene.

Nie Huaisang has placed himself between the opposing factions, which is unusually direct of him. In the future he’ll stick to being an unindicted co-conspirator when Wei Wuxian starts trouble.

Ants in my Pants

Lan Wangji thinks kneeling can make Wei Wuxian cry, which is adorable of him.

He really relishes this opportunity to be a pedantic tool to his new boyfriend that annoying boy he hardly ever touches, and it really doesn’t work out for him, poor lamb.

Jiang Fengmian stops by to show exactly how deep his affection for Wei Wuxian runs, and to give him whiplash from constantly changing parental expectations. In a couple of hours he’ll be laughing over WWX & JC’s hijinks.

Wei Wuxian takes this opportunity to fantasize about bad things happening to the other boy in the fight, which is in no way foreshadowing of anything.

Douche Dads Conference

We now convene this meeting of the douchebag council. Jiang Cheng is also invited even though he’s a prick, not a douche. <--important distinction

This is our first time meeting Clan Leader Jin Guangshan. He's actually the most sensible and best parent in this scene, but his smug self-satisfaction hints at his true nature. This actor, Shen Xiaohai, has been active in cdramas for a long while now. I wonder what he looked like 15 years ago?

...Holy mother of god.

Jiang Fengmian is the worst dad and the worst husband here. His clan believes in letting children do what they want - uhh YOUR child wants to marry Jin Zixuan. “I wrote a letter to her mother, who arranged this marriage.” Uhhh she arranged for her sickly, low-cultivation-level, sweet and vulnerable child to marry the heir of a rich and powerful clan, with a powerful mother-in-law who’s looking forward to loving and protecting her. Basically she’s guaranteed her daughter’s safety and comfort, and even potential happiness, since her husband may learn to appreciate her (and in fact, does, thanks to soup and repeated beatings from WWX).

Mom worked hard and probably spent a fair amount of social capital to achieve this. And you’re going to toss that aside because the boy thinks he’s too good for her? What the everloving fuck, how are you a clan leader in the first place?

You can see that Jiang Cheng understands all of this and what a terrible choice his father is making here.

So do the other adults in the room.

Jin Guangshen: our wives are going to kill us

Lan Qiren: I'm looking at a couple of dead men

Jiang Fengmian pointedly won’t listen to Jiang Cheng or let him speak, showing that all his talk about being free is actually bullshit, that only applies to other people’s children.

Jiang Chang vaults off of the deck to tell Wei Wuxian about it. Hottt

Sorry Sis

Wei Wuxian goes to Jiang Yanli to sorta-apologize and sorta ask to be let off the hook for fucking up her engagement, which he absolutely did. He knows it, which is presumably why he bows to her in paperman form while hiding outside.

At no time has Jiang Yanli indicated to anyone that she doesn’t want to marry Jin Zixuan, as far as I can see, or said she wanted to be defended from insults with punching. Look how good SHE is at defending a person from insults, for comparison.

Yin Iron Blah Blah Blah

The senior Lans meet with Jiang Fengmian to talk about the Yawn Yin Iron. Yawn.

Jiang Fengmian addresses Lan Xichen as Lan Gongzi, which is adorable, since he is a big boy to everyone else. His family calls him Xichen and other people call him Zewu-Jun.

Farewell and Fuck You

The three Jiang kids come to say goodbye.

Lan Quiren says goodbye with a heap of criticism for Wei Wuxian and the horse he rode in on, and Jiang Fengmian basically says, yep, that’s what he’s like, all right.

Good thing Wei Ying gets so much verbal abuse at home he doesn’t take it very hard when he finds it in the field.

Wangji doesn’t say goodbye properly, which will be a recurring theme for the two of them.

I don’t know if this is because he has a problem with goodbyes, or is just being a jerk, or because he’s so bad at lying he doesn’t dare talk to Wei Wuxian lest he reveal his travel plans.

Indulgent Dad Continues to be the Worst

Jiang Cheng complains at Wei Wuxian for wanting to say goodbye to Lan Wangji, and WWX says he likes him because he is equal to WWX in fighting, whereas JC sucks. JC hits him tries to hit him--gosh, he DOES suck, comparatively.

Yanli, who has been keeping these boys in line all summer, sighs deeply at her Dad’s tolerance for their hijinks. OP has five brothers and this sibling-hijinks behavior is 100% accurate, except for the part where it is happening at someone else’s house in front of the hosts.

WWX pretending to be Lan Qiren where Lan Wangji can see him doing it, in front of Lan Qiren’s colleague and supposed friend, and just earning a laugh from the patriarch? Good lord. Dad Jiang tolerating this is shocking, particularly in the in-show culture where corporal punishment is as common as tea.

We’ve tried Nothing, and we’re all out of ideas!

Uggghh why are you like this?

Here in the real world, OP uses “positive discipline” with her child, and encourages other parents to consider it, particularly if your child is neuroatypical or asynchronous. That said, JF should be punishing the crap out of both boys for this behavior every time it happens, or should quit being a clan leader. He’s relying on Jiang Yanli to keep them in line while he gets to just be amused by them. And he’s letting Lan Qiren discipline Wei Wuxian instead of doing it himself. He suuuuuuucks.

Lan Wangji watches all of this. Lan Xichen reminds Lan Wangji that without Wei Wuxian, he’s completely fucking miserable. Lan Wangji still doesn’t plan to bring him along on his trip, though.

Time to return to our lives of crushing loneliness

Rabbits

At this same moment when Lan Wangji is staring down the barrel of future loneliness, Wei Wuxian is already deciding to leave the (forbidden) rabbits in Cloud Recesses “In case Lan Zhan gets lonely.” This small decision by Wei Wuxian - breaking the rules of Cloud Recesses for the millionth time - is kinder than he knows. Because what is the job of these rabbits? Let’s have a desaturated flashback.

Lan Zhan spent 3 years in the ice cave. The rabbits kept Lan Yi company in the ice cave. So...did the rabbits sneak in to keep Lan Wangji company in the ice cave as well? I’m going to say yes. By ep 43 they are following him to the gate of Cloud Recesses so they are very attached to him. Well done, Wei Ying.

Where my bitches at? Seriously, our warren needs bitches

(Is Watership Down still a thing people read? If not, just go ahead and assume all of OP’s rabbit jokes are about Watership Down because OP ain’t going to stop making them)

While Wei Wuxian annoys the bunny he has a flashback to the scene that happened 4 minutes earlier. The Untamed editors assume the viewership has the attention span of a goldfish, and I personally appreciate that they understand me so well.

Wei Wuxian figures out that Lan Wangji is going on the road alone, and tells the bunny immediately. The bunny is very concerned.

Writing Prompt: What do next-generation cultivators Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi wish for at lantern-lighting time?

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #the untamed gifs #cdrama #chen qing ling #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #the untamed spoilers

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powerosewaterpuff · 4 years

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this idea for a fic/short fic came completely from a tiktok from @ fixation_or_infatuation on tiktok who has such awesome content so P L E A S E go check them out!! and thank u so much for the idea bc legit this made me so happy hehe

(also soft dad Bruce rights ok? oK I CLOSE MY EYES AND EARS TO CANON AND SAY FUCK THAT NOISE BRUCE IS A GOOD DAD FIGHT ME ON THIS HE IS A GOOD DAD WHO IF HIS SON CRIED FOR SOMETHING HE WOULD TURN THE EARTH OVER ON ITS ASS TO FIND IT FOR HIM PERIOD POINT BLANK. HE LOVES HIS CHILDREN OK A Y?? OH ALSO U CAN RIP DICK BEING AN ESL KID OUT OF MY COLD DEAD HANDS OK? OK :) )

“-uce. Bruce? Bruce! Bru-uce! Bruce, I adopted a chihuahua and named her Georgina, what’d you think of that?”

“Hn?”

Bruce shot his head up, realizing he had made the foolish mistake of zoning out through an infamous Dick Grayson tale, that always required every form of attention necessary at all times. He could feel himself chuckle inwardly, as he saw his ward’s little pout as he chewed away at his tortellini, directing a solid stare of expectation at Bruce.

“You really need to sleep more, do you know that?” Dick hummed, raising a little eyebrow at Bruce, which was a facial expression that looked far too adult on his baby cheeked face, and it looked far to Bruce-esque for his own liking.

“Even if I didn’t know that, I’d always have you to remind me, don’t I?” Bruce teased, stirring up a bright giggle from Dick that simply filled his chest with a rush of warmth that he had never really felt before. He loved hearing his laughter, no matter where or when and whether it was a rarity or not, but it always felt just a little bit more special when Bruce had been the one to cause it.

“At this point, I would consider myself your own personal alarm cloc-Bruce, can I please wake you up singing Christmas carols tomor-Why? I have a beautfiul and spec-tac-u-lar voice, thank you very much!”

Bruce didn’t bother suppressing a teasing eye roll, as Dick’s voice sounded like glass being rubbed against a cheese grater when he tried to hit all of Mariah Carey’s notes. He did, however, nod slightly at Dick to congratulate him on his proper pronounciation of ‘spectacular’, which was a word that Dick usually had a hint of trouble with. It was a small action, but one he hoped Dick would understand.

“Anyways, can I ask you a question?” Bruce’s eyebrows curved upwards in question, just a smidge, as he pushed his plate of food aside and leaned closer across the table to give Dick his complete focus.

“You already did,” Dick rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort but Bruce cut him off, “However, what’d you need?”

Then, there was something Bruce never really thought he would see for as long as he would live. It was Dick Grayson, the beam of passionate sunshine himself, squirming shyly in his seat and chewing on his bottom lip. If Bruce wasn’t the master of supressing emotions then he would’ve been throughly surprised by this display.

Dick Grayson was simply not shy, not in the very slightest. He was bolsterous and bold with just a hint of cunningness behind it, but he certainly was not shy. This, of course, caused Bruce to begin categorizing all the possible problems there could be. He ran through them over and over in his head, trying to suppress an inexplicable feeling of dread and fear that was coursing through his chest only slightly, but still present.

Dick took a deep breath, and Bruce could feel himself holding his almost inadvertently.

“When Superman comes today, d-do you think I could get an autograph,” Dick spluttered out, saying it almost too fast that Bruce barely understood what had been uttered. He did feel himself take a massive sigh of relief, even though what replaced the dread in his heart was just a prick of bitterness. Dick had never asked for Batman’s autograph.

“If Clark’s alright with it, then I don’t see why not, chum.”

Then, like a burst of light on a cloudy evening, Dick jumped out of his seat and went around the table straight into Bruce’s arms for a full koala hug.

Bruce, who still wasn’t fully accustomed to such open and loving acts of affection, froze for just a slip of a moment but then melted into Dick’s hold, as he usually did. There was just something magical, dare he say, about his wards (sons) hugs.

Dick then propped his head onto Bruce’s chest, and beamed up at him with stars glittering in his eyes, “Thank you, B!”

Bruce yearned to say something, to say anything along the lines of; Of course, I would bring the moon down if you asked me too or I love you so much that your very laugh eases this knot in my chest that has never been able to budge.

Bruce only managed a meager, “No need to thank me, chum.”

Dick, who had been completely content with the answer given even though he shouldn’t have been, placed his hands onto Bruce’s shoulders and flipped into a handstand position. He then curved his body around enough to sit onto Bruce’s broad shoulders, which in full honesty, didn’t surprise Bruce at this point. He had become labelled as the ‘jungle gym man,’ which was a nickname graciously given to him by Dick himself.

“Now, ride my steed! To Alfie!”

Bruce prayed inwardly that Clark wouldn’t have to be a witness to this mayhem, because it really would lessen his fearsome status in the Justice League.

•••••••••••

Bruce was not jealous.

He simply was not and it didn’t matter how many side eyed stares Alfred shot his way, Bruce was a perfectly fine without a sliver of jealously.

It’s hero-worship, it’s just complete and utter hero-worship.

From the moment Clark Kent had stepped through the Cave’s doors, Dick had been unable to contain his sheer excitement as he bounced on the balls of his feet. The two had hit it off better then anyone Bruce had ever seen before, gabbering on about nothing and everything all at the same time. Now, Bruce was not upset about this, because Dick deserved someone who could give every inch of love he so generously gave back to him. Clark was just that person, as the Boy Scout himself matched wits with Dick far easier then Bruce had ever been able to do.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less.

“Master Bruce?”

Bruce swiveled his chair to face Alfred, as he sorted out the rest of his paperwork.

“Have you seen Master Dick since our guest left? I’ve been unable to locate him since then.”

His jaw clenched slightly, as he racked his brain around everytime he had seen Dick between the forty minutes since Clark had left and that moment. He felt his heart sink when he realized he hadn’t seen a trace of Dick since the Kryptonian had left.

Fuck.

Bruce hurried up to the third floor of the Manor, and felt his heart that had sunk into his gut shatter at the sound of a faint whimper slithering up to his ear from the bathroom across the hall. He gently walked towards it, slowly but surely turning the knob only to peer his head in, as not to startle Dick.

Dick was curled up into a ball across from the sink, small sobs heaving from his little chest as he desperately tried to push the oncoming flow of tears away with his palm. His cheeks were marred with fresh tear stains and his eyes were a leaning towards the pinker side as fresh tears began to bubble to the surface.

Bruce wasted absolutely no time as he skidded to the floor in front of Dick, gripping his wards shoulders tightly. Dick raised his head slightly, looking all the more ashamed for being caught crying which weighed down on Bruce like the weight of the ocean.

“Dick, what’s wrong?” Bruce whispered, wishing he could erase every inch of sadness off his face, “Please tell me what’s wrong, chum.”

Dick bit his lip, chewing on it for a bit, which Bruce recognized as one of Dick’s nervous habits. He made a note of that, just in case.

“I-Bruce, it’s stupid, alright? I-I’ll get up, I’m sorry for sitting on the bathroom flo-.”

“Dick,” Bruce huffed, firmly pushing Dick back onto the ground as he moved his hands to cup Dick’s cheeks, still filled with baby fat, “Nothing you say is going to be stupid. I want to know what’s wrong, alright?”

Bruce was not one to plead nor grovel, no matter how much life pressed its dirty heels into his back he never swayed. However, seeing Dick crying was such a weak point to him that it unnerved and horrified him. (It was probably why his nightmares had all had one consistent theme of Dick being in some sort of danger that Bruce could not save him from.)

Dick practically melted into Bruce’s hold, and nuzzled his face into his palm as Bruce wiped away stray tears. Fuck. Bruce needed to hug Dick more, or just show any shred of affection. He just wasn’t used to having to show an abundance of physical affection to someone, and had forgotten how much he had craved for it when he was younger, starving and hungry for shreds of affection he wasn’t expecting to receive, until he simply became numb to it. Dick really deserved someone better, and Bruce knew this more than anyone else.

After taking a shaky breath, Dick peered up at Bruce as he blinked away tears, “Promise you won’t think it’s stupid?”

“I promise,” Bruce vowed as he rubbed his thumb across Dick’s cheeks comfortingly.

“Do you remember how I wanted Superman’s autograph?” Dick mumbled softly, sniffling slightly. Bruce nodded but mentality cursed himself a thousand times for not realizing that Dick hadn’t asked a single time for an autograph from Clark.

“I-I really wanted to ask him! I kept waiting and waiting but I just couldn’t do it, b-because I thought he might find me annoying. I really, really wanted him to like me, Bruce! I thought he might get upset or get annoyed by me because I talk so much, so I just couldn’t do it and I don’t even know why I’m crying! He was so nice to me but I just really got scared a-and my tongue got tied like-like a knot! Does that make sense? My tongue was like this big heavy knot and it was stuck to my mout-Why am I crying!”

Dick tried to suppress a rising sob, as he covered in his eyes in shame. Bruce gently let go of his cheeks and spread his arms out gently, with the offer standing clear. Dick flung himself into Bruce’s waiting arms and buried his face in the crook of his neck, as he continued to try to mumble out a few words and hiccup. God, it was enough to make Bruce’s chest ache, as he rubbed soothing circles into Dick’s back softly.

“Clark would never find you annoying, not in a million years. Dick, can you look at me for a second? Clark would never find you annoying, and I don’t know a single person who would,” Bruce stated firmly, as he cradled Dick in his arms and shifted him so he would be facing him, “Dick, Clark would give you a thousand autographs if you asked, and do you want to know something? There’s nothing wrong with being a little shy, and you have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing at all.”

Dick sniffled a bit, as he snuggled closer to Bruce but he stayed quiet, which worried Bruce more so then it should’ve.

“You know, I get shy sometimes too,” Bruce confided quietly, as if it would provide some sort of comfort to Dick. It proved to work as Dick sat up with a start, glancing up at Bruce wirh furrowed brows.

“It’s never this emotional, but you know what? I think it’s better you let it all out, then trying to bottle it up inside,” Bruce murmured, pushing Dick’s fringe back. He saw a pensive look set into Dick’s features, and was met with another soft hug.

Dick was going to being the reason Bruce’s heart burst, he was sure of it.

“You’re the best, Bruce.”

Oh well, Bruce didn’t need a heart anyway. Not if he had Dick with him.

•••••

Bruce leaned over his phone, dialing a number into it as he kept his ears open to the sound of the tap shutting.

He had gotten Dick to wash his face a bit, with Alfred stepping in to look after him while Bruce made some executive calls.

The phone beeped for a bit. Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Hello? Bruce?”

“I’m going to say this one singular time, are we clear? You are going to fly over here and give Dick the best goddamned autograph you have given a person but you are going to let him ask for it first, then you’ll be on your merry way unless he asks you to stay for dinner, clear?”

“I-.”

Bruce ended the call, satisfied with the answer he was given. It still stung just a bit that Dick wasn’t demanding a Batman autograph, but he would make sure his ward (son) was as happy as can be, even if it meant letting the Boy Scout take his place as Dicks, ‘Favourite Adult.’

It was worth it, if he could make sure that brilliant smile was always there.

Fin

(P.S. Later that night, when Bruce was tucking Dick into bed after shutting The Vevlveteen Rabbit and setting it onto the nightstand, he noticed Dick was happily gripping the signed Superman card tightly in his hand. He shoved back his exasperation, but couldn’t help but give a raise of the brow when Dick asked if he could buy a Superman backpack.

“You already sleep in Superman pajamas, I think the commodities can stop at that,” Bruce suggested, ignoring the fact that Dick probably had no idea what that word even meant, “Would you not want any other hero?”

“Nope, he’s my favourite. Oh-Besides you, of course!” Dick hummed, as he used his other arm to grab Zitka from behind him, as casual as could be.

Bruce, on the other hand, had just had a bombshell dropped on him. A happy bombshell. A pleasant bombshell. A bombshell nonetheless, though.

“I wouldn’t get your merch, though. I have the real thing, and he’s my bestest friend in the whole wide world. Don’t tell Wally that though!” Dick exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Bruce like the most important part of that sentence was the warning of not to tell Kid Flash, and not that Bruce was his ‘bestest friend in the whole wide world.’

(Not father. Never his father.)

Bruce was silent, but leaned over to give Dick a peck on the forehead and a rare but soft smile. One he really only reserved for Dick and Alfred. He couldn’t afford to be selfish, this was enough for him. This was absolutely enough for him.

Dick returned his smile with one that shone brighter then all the suns Bruce had seen in his life.

Bruce really adored this kid.)

AND THATS IT HEHE PLEASE EXCUSE WELL EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS FIC I WROTE IT AT 2AM AND WHILE I CONSIDERED POSTING IT ON AO3 (my account is ordinarilyspeaking btw :) ) I DECIDED TUMBLR IS WHERE IS POST MY 2AM THOUGHTS ANYWAY SO WHY THE FUCK NOT SO YEAH IM GOING TO GO PROCRASINATE MY ASSINGMENTS SOME MORE SO THANK U SO MUCH FOR READING HEHE!

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gosickoonmymode · 4 years

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"I don't want to go home tonight"

18+ Bloodhound x reader!!!

Summary: naughty fantasies in the shower and maybe something else too teehee

Added stuff: Reader and Bloodhound are gender neutral. Mention of BH having some kind of something, but it’s up to you to decide what that is (strap-on or organic).

Hot and heavy under the cut

It's late, you're exhausted from a long day of participating in the games, Bloodhound guides you through the moonlit forest trail. It’s lit enough to walk without too much concern, but still, you trip and stumble over a rock or root. Bloodhound catches you so you don't fall or run into something else, "Careful," they say softly, "stay close." They hold on to your arm as they continue forward, your heart is racing at their touch.

After a few more minutes of walking you see their cottage almost glowing beneath the moon. The floor has smoothed out, you tap their hand, "I got it, thank you," you reassure them, smiling. They let go and you both continue to the steps of the porch. You honestly wish they'd hold you longer but you don't want to be caught blushing once you're in the light of their home.

Bloodhound unlocks the door, opens it, and turns around to go back down the steps of their creaky porch, "excuse me a moment," they say as they pass you. You watch them wave their hand in the air, signaling Artur to them. The beautiful raven flies down and lands on their arm. Hound gives him a couple scritches and heads back toward the steps, "go on in," they say, gesturing to the open door.

You awkwardly walk inside after them, close the door behind you, and stand by it as Hound places Artur on a perch near one of the windows. It isn't as strange to be in their cottage, as you've been there a couple times before (albeit never for long and certainly never overnight), but it is still a little awkward. They take off their mask and gloves and light the lanterns and candles before showing you where you'll be sleeping. It's a simple room filled with potted herbs, the walls are a soft brown and the carpet is plush and some kind of darker earthy color. There's a bed with fluffy dark brownish-orange blankets neatly folded on top, and a small closet able to fit your shoes and bag. This room isn’t like the rest of their home, it isn’t adorned with hunting trophies, furs, weapons, or sigils (despite the one on the door). There’s a carpet instead of wood flooring, and the room seems almost untouched.

"Would you like to use the shower?" Bloodhound asks. They unfold the blankets to set them on the bed.

You didn't even notice the feeling of dirt and dust all over you until Hound asked that question, "yes please, that'd be awesome." You grab your pajamas and meet them in the hallway where they hand you a dark green towel. You follow them down the dim candle lit hall and to the left. They open up a clunky wooden door, inside is basic bathroom stuff like a sink and toilet, it’s very nature/rustic themed. There's another door with a curtain over it, they open it to reveal an outdoor shower. You get excited as they explain how it works, you've always wanted to try an outdoor shower like this one.

After they show you the ropes and reassure you that no bugs or animals will invade your space they take their leave. You get undressed and test the water, it's perfect. You can hear the crickets chirping and tiny critters all around you, see the tall trees towering over the fence, stars shining through the thick canopy. The full moon and torch on the wall bring relaxing lighting, it’s perfect for unwinding. You reflect on when you met Bloodhound, how you never really thought they'd want to be close to you, how it took over a year for them to even begin opening up to you. You’re still shocked that they offered for you to stay the night, typically Elliot is the one who wants to party, or Ajay offers her home so you two can stay up chatting. But now you're here, staying the night at Bloodhound’s cottage, using their shower...

...using...their shower? It hits you like a ton of bricks, you're actually in Bloodhound's shower. Their beautifully crafted, peaceful, comfortable shower. Where they get clean. Where they stand naked. Your mind wanders, you think about what they might look like beneath their clothes, you’ve only ever seen their face and hands. You wonder if they ever give in to any urges they get much like the ones you have now. You wash your hair and body, trying to focus on something else, you don't want to use up too much water. Still, your hand drifts lower and lower until it finds itself at your crotch.

Your entire body tingles at your own touch, you can't believe you're actually doing this in Bloodhound's shower. You think about them coming through the door, pinning you against the wall, sticking their tongue into your mouth. You jolt with pleasure, rubbing the most sensitive parts of yourself, imagining their rugged hand touching you in place of yours. You use your other hand to put your fingers inside, silently pleading for Hound to walk in and find you like this. Your fantasies are going wild, you can hardly contain your voice.

You're so deep in your head you can practically feel Bloodhound finger fucking you. You want nothing more than to kiss them, be touched by them, completely belong to them. You're trembling hard, "mmph...H..Hound..." you moan under your breath. You picture them pushing you to the ground, propping your ass up, and fucking you hard, rough, and raw. You hear them grunt and growl with each intense thrust, you feel them grab your neck from behind and squeeze, you gasp at them slapping and gripping your ass. You want it, you want it bad, it's taking all of your strength to hold in your cries. You almost don’t want to stop but your hands move faster, you curl forward, "ffck, I'm cumming... Hound..I’m cu....." You grit your teeth to suppress your voice as you climax, your body jolting hard. You lean back against the cold stone wall while you catch your breath. It's a bit embarrassing to be fantasizing about your dear friend like that, at their house, in their bathroom, but what's done is done. You shove your face into the water to compose yourself before shutting it off.

You grab the towel and wrap it around yourself as you walk back inside. You let out a deep sigh and dry yourself off. Once you’re in your pajamas you walk through the hallway to find a casually dressed Bloodhound sitting at their living room table. They’re wearing an off-white loose fitting shirt, light brown sweats, and a wrist brace. Their thick, wavy dark brown hair is hanging just above their shoulders. Their cognac eyes pull you in, how can someone be so beautiful? “Did you have fun?” they ask in an almost teasing tone, not shifting their focus from whatever they’re looking at.

“huh?” you reply, unsure how to answer.

Hound looks up at you with a smirk, “You were not as quiet as you may think.”

You feel your heart skip a beat before pounding against your chest. Bloodhound stands up and walks toward you, you can’t even slightly hear their bare feet stepping on the ground. You’re unsure where to look or what to do so you just stand there watching them get closer, your heart about to jump out of your chest. They stop right in front of you, one more step and you’ll collide. You’re bright red, panicking, any time they’re this close you can hardly breathe. You look down slightly and they place their fingers on your chin, “Look at me,” they say in a low yet firm voice as they guide you to face them. After a brief moment of eye contact they move in and kiss you gently. You can feel your body melting, you’ve wanted this for so long. They place their hand on your lower back and pull you in to kiss you deeper, your body nearly goes limp. They pull back and rest their forehead to yours, the two of you stand in silence for a moment, they move their hand from your chin and graze your arm with their fingertips making your spine shiver.

Their hand runs from your arm down your stomach to your crotch. You bite your lip as they tease you. You grip the back of their shirt and pull them toward you but they don’t budge, they just let out a soft laugh, “You’re awfully eager for someone who just pleasured them self.” You blush even more, they rub you a little harder causing you to gasp and grip their shirt tighter. They lean in to speak in your ear, “Do you want more?”

You nod and shyly say, “y-yes...”

Bloodhound pulls you into them, rubbing your crotch harder and faster. You moan and press your face against them, their hand feels so good, your mind is drowning in the moment. It’s a literal dream come true, having them this way. But suddenly they stop, let you go, and take a step back. You look at them with desperate eyes, they look back at you, pleased with your expression. “Are you willing to do anything I ask of you?” they ask, seemingly amused.

You know that anything means literally anything, but you trust them, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Are you tired?” They walk over to a wall and grab something but you can’t see what, “Do you wish to take it easy tonight?”

“No I’m not tired, not anymore anyway,” you anxiously reply.

They turn away from the wall and walk toward you, you see a rope in their hand, “You will tell me if it is too much?” they stop in front of you like before, stroking your cheek with their free hand.

“I’ll say it’s..cold?...too cold.....since it’s..warm tonight...” you can hardly think, you’ve never had the chance to use a safe word before, hopefully what your clouded mind came up with will suffice.

They grip the back of your hair and kiss you hard, then look you deep in the eyes and sharply whisper, “Run bráð mitt.” You stare at their stern expression for a second before frantically running for the door. You fling it open and jump off the top step of the porch, your bare feet hitting the cool dirt, and dart off into the trees. Bloodhound stands in the doorway looking out into the dark, a sly smile crosses their face.

The hunt begins.

#i've never posted something like this before please be nice #nsft #nsft text #fanfiction #bloodhound x reader #bloodhound apex #apex bloodhound #apex legends

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mothsamf · 4 years

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W I P I N T R O D U C T I O N:

M O T H S A N D M A M M O T H F I G U R E S

Seulame sighed, running her fingers through the morning waters of the creek.

“What’s up?” Leo asked, crouching down beside her.

“I don’t know. I guess…I kind of feel like I am water and the universe is the earth. All I can do is follow its path and let it push me around. I have no control over anything.”

Leo let out a breath, moving to cross his legs as he turned to Seulame. “Yeah, but as time goes on, the water starts to erode the earth, molding it to its own will. We all make a difference in the universe, even if it’s slow-coming and we don’t really see it.”

Genre: urban fantasy, contemporary fantasy, low fantasy, new adult

Synopsis: Leo and Seulame don’t know each other, but someone has been watching them. After escaping from underneath a subway station together, the two come find themselves a target for a benevolent unknown entity that wants to give them everything they ever dreamed of. Leo wants nothing more than to escape the humdrum of his life, but Seulame is wary. When Seulame loses her job, however, the two find themselves following a map with the key to their happiness.

This story takes place in four parts: the city (Lachryphage), the road (Psychidae), the forest (Diphyllia grayi), and the sea (Anima mundi) and follows the adventures of Leo (disaster bi, sun child) and Seulame (general disaster, moon child) as they both work to overcome their childhood traumas that have made it difficult for them to navigate as adults. Basically, my children deserve to experience the childhoods that were robbed from them by visitations from all the local cryptids.

Trigger Warnings: depression, anxiety, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, homophobia, racism (first four are heavy themes throughout, while the other three are just implied or slightly referenced)

Disclaimer: this story is not about the two overcoming their mental illnesses through love and nature!!! Although there is some recovery from having someone who understands them and having a chance to escape their stressors and triggers, the two still have recovery that needs to be made in the form of therapists/medication by the end of the story! I am a big believer in seeking professional help when you are struggling and encourage anyone who feels like my characters to seek these out!

Some of my work is already up on my page here!

I already made a writeblr introduction last week that you can see here, too!

I would love to follow some more people that write similar things, or have some other awesome work they want to share, too! So like or reblog this and I will add you!

Also, thank you @nothingisliteral for the really awesome cover designs you see at the top!

I’m tagging all of my mutuals for this one post to help get the word out there, but will not from here on out. If you want to be added to my taglist, please message me!

@lousyloved @valiant-wielder @nothingisliteral @lastchanceepic @sometime-i-write @aelenko @sadsentinel @cinnamonboba-writes @dirtypawshistorie @adaparkwrites @vespatrix @gentlewaltz @mvisons @azzy-moon-stars @paopukuma @unnagi @winnieleighwrites @tindletalks @talesofsorrowandofruin @a-writing-cat @chordsofimagination @astarlightmonbebe @marbiclark @mp-golfin @fiddler-unroofed @saccharine-sunflower-seeds @vilhemina @flygutz @gildedgirls @islanderclown @acrimoneous

#writeblr #writerblr #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #spilled ink #wip #current wip #urban fantasy #urban #contemporary #contemporary fantasy #low fantasy #fantasy #depression #anxienty #mine #my writing

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

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COMING SOON! Riding High- A Frank Adler fic.

Series Summary: Frank Adler is a single man in his early 30s, simply doing his best to raise his genius niece Mary. After a passing comment from his well-meaning neighbour, land-lady and friend, he decides that before he enrols her into school she needs to learn some social skills and pick up a hobby to help her interact with kids her own age.

Felicity (Fliss) Gallagher is a single woman in her early 30s. An British Olympic Gold Medal winning Showjumper who was forced into early retirement due to a nasty accident, she’s now settled in South Pasadena running Sandybrook Stables, an Equestrian Centre which provide both boarding and teaching services.

Their worlds merge when Mary decides she wants to learn how to ride.

Both have a history, both are running and fleeing from their demons. Maybe, just maybe one broken soul can mend the other… Series Warnings: Bad Language words. There will be smut. Dark themes (can’t reveal too much as will give the game away at this point)

Episode Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher (yeah I’m a sucker for an OFC…)

A/N: So yeah, this one’s been buzzing in my head for AGES now. As you all know, I’m a Brit so I’m REALLY sorry if too much British horsey lingo slips into this…ASK away if you don’t understand. As means of an explanation in the UK we have 3 main types of stables. We have Riding Schools (which focus solely on providing riding lessons), Livery Yards (which are places where owners board their horses) and Equestrian Centres (which do both). After a bit of research it seems that EC also translates across the pond and means the same thing so…just bear with me on this and run with it!

Tagging all my SSB/CSI readers…if you want in or off the list PLEASE just tell me.

As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT!

And yes, the woman in the photos in the cover banner on and with the Chestnut is me and my wonderful, wonderful old girl who I lost 2 years ago…

“I’m holding you solely responsible for this.” Frank shot Roberta a glare as Mary bounced over to the truck, her blonde hair swinging slightly as she skipped.

“All I said was that it might be useful to have her interact with kids her own age before you throw her into a school, which for the record, I still think is a dumbass idea Frank.” “Input noted and duly ignored…” Frank rolled his eyes “She needs to go to school. Have some kind of variant on a normal childhood.”

Roberta took a deep breath and simply shrugged “On your head be it.”

“Come on Frank!” Mary shouted, standing up on the ledge of the truck “we’re gonna be late!”

“It’s 20 minutes tops to Pinellas Park…” Frank looked at her “We got half an hour, chill out Stack”

“My name’s Mary not Short Stack…” she sing songed back.

“Don’t I know it…” Frank said, looking at her before he turned back to Roberta “I’ll see you later.”

“Hmmm” she nodded, and with that he rolled his eyes again and headed to the truck.

“You know you’re not actually gonna get to ride anything today right?” he asked, turning to his niece.

“No, but I’m still gonna see the ponies.” she said, smiling. “Why can’t we bring Fred?”

“Because a horse might step on him.” Frank said, before he paused. “Actually, shall we take him?” Mary narrowed her eyes at him “That’s mean.” He chuckled, ruffled her hair and started up the truck. **** “Ok, now soften your outside hand…” Fliss called out across the paddock, as the woman riding the tall, black warmblood circled her “Yeah, you feel that. He’s taking the contact now, not leaning against your hand. So when you feel that softening, that’s when you need to push with your inside leg…and if is he isn’t listening a soft tap up with the stick…” She watched again from behind her Oakley wraparounds, smiling as the horse extended nicely down the long side of the school.

“Yeah, there you go!” she shouted encouragingly, “Now bring him round again and this time at the corner, pop him into canter…” She took a quick glance at her watch. She was running slightly behind, but what else was new? She would never leave a lesson, regardless, until her client had achieved something, even if it was what they dubbed a small victory. End on a high was her motto, and this was no different. Ever since Lucy had brought Captain out of his stable, Fliss could see the horse was in one of his awkward moods so she’d had to switch out her plan a little. It had worked and he’d settled after about 15 minutes of being an obstinate shit and he was working quite nicely.

“Good!” She shouted, pacing slightly “Now let’s see if we can extend this a little…” Lucy sat up tall, pushed through her legs and the horse bounded down the side. Fliss grinned, less than 6 months ago Lucy hadn’t even been able to keep the horse in a trot, now here she was producing an extended canter. Moments like this made her job so worthwhile…

“Ok, bring him back down…” she said, “And into trot…and walk…”

Fliss headed over to her client and smiled as she walked along side her “That was really good Luce…you happy?” “I’m over the moon!” The teenager grinned “I can’t believe it…he went so well!”

“Yeah because you rode him well.” Fliss smiled “You know, I seriously think you should consider a Dressage Competition.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do. I know you don’t have a horse of your own but you can borrow Cap if you want…have a think about it.” “I will, thanks Fliss.”

Fliss smiled, gave the horse a pat and headed back to the gate.

“Joanne?” she called, and one of her grooms appeared. “Can you just supervise Lucy cooling him off. I’ve got someone bringing their daughter in at 11 am that should be here any time soon.”

“Sure.” Joanne nodded “Oh, they back barn has been mucked out but I’ve not had chance to scrub the water buckets out.” “It’s ok, you can do it after lunch” Fliss nodded. “the automatics are getting installed in a month or so which should make it a little easier.”

She patted Joanne on the shoulder and made her way into the office. Reaching for a file she dug out a Registration Form and a Liability Waiver and set them on the desk before she took a quick glance in the mirror. Satisfied that her auburn hair was tamed and there was no hay stick in it she nodded to herself and walked back on the yard, just in time to see a tall, well build dark haired man desperately trying to control a blonde haired girl who was looking around in glee and pointing.

“Hi…” she walked over, momentarily stuck by how damned good looking this guy was. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt which perfectly accentuated his tone upper body. His chiselled jawline which was covered in a short, stubbled beard, soft spikey dark hair, and he flashed her a smile that made the corners of his aviator covered eyes crinkle. A smile that made her clear her throat. “I’m Fliss, you must be Mr Adler.”

Frank looked at the woman in front of him, glad that his glasses hid the fact he was blatantly eyeing her up and down. Dressed in a pair of long riding boots, tight navy blue jodhpurs with a white belt around the top, and an equally tight pink polo shirt he could see every curve she possessed. But it was the smile she flashed him that made him feel like some kind of teenage school kid again, and if he was honest the British accent was kind of a turn on too. It wasn’t the usual, posh one he associated with Evelyn, it was a little gruffer, but still enthralling.

“Frank, please.” he held out his hand, which she took in a surprisingly strong grip. “Nice to meet you Frank.” Fliss smiled before releasing him and turning to Mary “And what can I call you Miss?” “Mary.” she said, looking up “Are all these horses yours?”

Fliss chuckled. “No not all of them. 8 belong to me. 2 are my personal ones, then I have 6 that work in the riding school and the other 6 are boarders.” “Oh.” she said, looking around. “So which one can I ride.” “Mary…” Frank chastised her softly as he looked down at her, before glancing back at Fliss “Sorry, she’s excited.” Fliss laughed and shook her head “It’s fine, I love to see it.”

She turned to Mary and then in an exaggerated whisper so that Frank could hear said “I’ll let you into a secret, I always put the new kids on Monty because he’s awesome and looks after everyone…and he especially likes girls. He’s a ladies man. You wanna meet him?” Mary nodded eagerly and Fliss looked up at Frank, seeking his permission. He nodded and gestured with his head and she straightened up before leading Mary across the yard to the barn on the opposite side.

Frank stayed where he was for a moment, watching her ass as she walked before he mentally slapped himself and followed.

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @icanfeelastormbrewing @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan

#riding high #frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted #gifted fan fic

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valentinecult · 4 years

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Theory on Nagoriyuki’s Theme and Backstory.

So, in my previous posts, somebody managed to put out the lyrics of What Do You Fight For-Nagoriyuki’s Theme.

Reminder, I may or may not be right with my theory. This is just speculation and my interpretation.

LYRICS:

Everything in this world leads to soul enlightenment There is nothing wasted about our lives The snow falling in spring Moon hangs during the day One with self and time So what? Let's get to the bottom line If so, what do you fight for? You're denying your thirst Now it’s time to feast Break it out! Keep grinding dive in deep like cold steel I won't face my doom, SAYONARA! Well done! How dare you!!! Never too late to bend the knee When Hell freezes over! SAYONARA The world is starting to reject you If so, what do you fight for You must know your place Now it’s time to feast Break it out! Keep grinding dive in deep like cold steel I won't face my doom, SAYONARA Well done! How dare you!!! Never too late to bend the knee When Hell freezes over! SAYONARA I know the time of darkness will come some day but I will fight it till the day I die Break it out! Break it out! Dive in the deep! Like cold steel I will not face my doom, SAYONARA

~~~~

It is becoming one of my favorite songs to be honest. The music and its tone obviously is heavy metal, but there is a sense of calmness and self-control. Although, the lyrics are pretty hammy and full of burning passion.

It can be safe to believe that Nagoriyuki is a calm and collected person. There is a possibility that he is disciplined and passionate about his fighting skills. According to his biography, the man values Bushido (Samurai Code). Bushido Code of the samurai has principles that emphasizes courage, honor, and loyalty to their master, the daimyo.

The principles clearly almost coincide to the lyrics to a certain extent. The most important part of the lyrics that stood out is that the beginning of the song quotes that everything in this world leads to soul enlightenment.

https://ashlandtidings.com/archive/inner-peace-characteristics-of-an-enlightened-soul

Soul Enlightenment’s definition varies, but what is it like when a person is spiritually enlightened? The qualities of that is that the enlightened person is a being of pure love and light, kind and compassionate. However, those qualities aren’t enough to truly define you as ‘enlightened’.

You must purify your soul, heart, mind, and body. The back of Nagoriyuki’s kimono and the kanji written on his mask was written as ‘Heart’ and ‘Mind’, if I am correct. That matches the attributes of what one needs for spiritual enlightenment.

Even so, the lyrics quoted: ‘You’re denying your thirst. Now it’s time to feast!’

This could refer to Nagoriyuki’s internal struggles on resisting his vampiric urges. As stated before, it’s speculated that his hannya youkai mask is special limiter that helps suppress his impulses. So Nagoriyuki might be struggling to control his vampire side and he could be using the culture and traditions of Bushido to obtain spiritual enlightenment to maintain self-control. Not only is he trying to maintain himself, but he is obviously very determined to keep fighting. Keep fighting until it is his time to die. He might have a mindset of a warrior, someone who isn’t afraid of death, even though he is an ‘immortal’, a vampire.

Onto his backstory, there is no information on Nagoroyuki’s past. He is simply called a mysterious swordsman that wields a sword that absorbs blood, but Daisuke claimed that he plays an important role to the history of Guilty Gear.

If this is true, it is safe to assume that he’s seen a lot of pretty crazy events that transpired throughout the lore’s timeline. He certainly gives off the impression of an experienced warrior and a man with a story to tell.

I believe his situation is no different from Sol Badguy. Sol was a human but due to some...bad circumstances, he became a Gear and as a prototype, he is insanely strong. Too strong for his own good to the point where he needed to create a limiter to suppress the Gear cells and his Gear instincts. There has always been this internal conflict Sol has with his Gear side.

Nagoriyuki is probably a similar case. Long story short, he might’ve been human once in his lifetime, but something must’ve happened (probably the cursed nature of his sword) to where he became a vampire. As a vampire, you would obviously begin to act out on your bloodlust and impulse to drink blood. Upon discovering the traditions of the Bushido Code of the Samurai, he studied it and tried to obtain inner peace with himself and his vampiric side.

While he does come off as a loner, I have doubts that Nagoriyuki built that mechanical mask by himself. He likely had help someone within the P.W.A.B. or something. Who that person is, it’s unknown and I’m not going to speculate it for we still don’t know all the details of the Strive story.

However, unlike Sol, Nagoriyuki doesn’t seem like he’ll hesitant to remove his limiter and access his full power.

“I know the time of darkness will come some day but I will fight it till the day I die Break it out! Break it out! Dive in the deep! Like cold steel I will not face my doom, SAYONARA “

This part could mean that Nagoriyuki is well-aware that his impulses could overtake him at any moment if he is pushed to the extreme. However, the lyrics may imply that he isn’t backing down and will keep fighting those impulses until the day he dies. If anything, in the process of learning the Bushido Code, the man likely has an immense indomitable will that helps him maintain his humanity and self-awareness. He’s not afraid to face his demons and is determined to fight them.

I really believe that Nagoriyuki’s theme is all related to his ideals and personal struggles as a person. In principle, he may have this belief that everyone has reason for fighting. If you are fighting, you should a goal in mind. But in the process of striving and fighting for your goal, you must achieve spiritual enlightenment to reflect on yourself and fight your inner demons. This can sort of tie-in toward the theme of the game. The title is Strive and in lore, the characters are fighting for something, but before they do reach their goal, they must reflect on themselves as individuals. Basically, it’s discovering and awakening their utmost potential.

That concludes my theory on what I believe could be is Nagoriyuki’s personality and backstory. Like I said before and I’ll say it once again, this must be taken with a grain of salt and be viewed as a mere interpretation of mine, not a fact. The story mode may debunk my theory or not. This is all for the sake of fun and being hyped for the upcoming installation.

I have to say, his theme song is freakin’ awesome to listen to. I think I’ll make it my third favorite next to Colors and Society.

#arc system works #Daisuke Ishiwatari #Nagoriyuki #Nagoriyuki (Guilty Gear)#Guilty Gear #Guilty Gear Strive #ggstrive #theories #THEORIES ARE NOT FACTS #What Do You Fight For #Now It's Time To Feast!#Vampires #Sol Badguy #character analysis #I might be wrong #take this with a grain of salt

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mmguitarbar · 5 years

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A bad guitar, 1961

In a recent interview with Reverb.com, Fender CEO Andy Mooney laid bare his true feelings about the Jazzmaster and Jaguar, and let me tell you, they were anything but glowing. In the exchange, he brands Leo Fender’s original designs as “not very good guitars” at the time of release, declaring the mistakes of the past fixed in Fender’s latest entries into the offset line.

Mooney takes a hard stance here, but to be honest his perspective here is nothing new. These critiques have been around for years, and even with the informed views of dedicated users of the Offset Guitar forum, the main axe associations with high profile players like Chris Stapleton and Nels Cline, and my own work over the last decade advocating for the guitars in print and performance –– pardon the horn tooting –– opinions on these fascinating guitars among the general populace are still very much divided.

I don’t blame folks for holding these opinions because even I, Dear Reader, once believed the very same things. Back in high school I had an Olympic white Japanese Jaguar, a parental purchase spurred on by my love of the band Bush. The kindest way I could describe the guitar is problematic; the strings skipped off of their saddles, the bridge shimmied down, and it would not stay in tune no matter what I did.

Eventually I traded it in on something more reliable, unwilling to wrestle with the instrument. When I finally came back to the offset guitar 14 years later, I realized that insatiable tinkerer Leo Fender wouldn’t have released a guitar he didn’t think was ready, and so I pushed through my preconceived notions of its flaws to gain a better understanding of the thing. I came out on the other side with a deeper appreciation for the man’s work.

It seems to me that when a player has a bad experience with these guitars, it’s often because they’ve been poorly maintained. In cases such as these, I view it as an opportunity to educate and reevaluate. After a conversation or a quick adjustment, the player might still decide the models aren’t for them, but more often than not they seem to “get it.” And that’s enough for me.

So here I am, returning from an extended hibernation like a grumpy, shaggy bear; like the aging ensemble cast of a ‘90s sitcom, lured into a reunion for the cameras by the dangling carrot of a handsome payday, each secretly knowing that the end product would not be nearly as good as the show’s initial run; like a cherished childhood movie that, upon re-viewing for the first time in 30 years, has way more adult themes than your young mind could then comprehend, causing feelings of retroactive discomfort because you watched it with your parents in the SAME ROOM???

Prodigal namesake that I am, I have returned with my proverbial pen pressed to the also proverbial page of the Guitar Bar website to feverishly scrawl this open[ish] response in an attempt to give some context and gentle rebuttal to his comments.

“They were not particularly good guitars when they were first introduced.”

When the Jazzmaster and Jaguar were first released in 1958 and 1962 respectively, they were not only top of the line models, but top sellers as well. While neither model was exactly embraced by the Jazz community, they nonetheless found favor with a varied group of players and all but defined the sound of Surf music while still in its infancy. For a time, they seemed to be everywhere. Admittedly, perceived popularity does not a good guitar make, so let’s look at a handful of early adopters.

At first, session players and country pickers liked the models well enough to use them on stage and in the studio, including Wayne Moss, Hank Garland, Willie Nelson, and Luther Perkins, who has an engraving of the model on his tombstone. If more proof is needed, here are three separate performances of Roy Clark absolutely shredding “12th Street Rag” on a bone stock Jazzmaster and Jaguar. These videos remain favorites of mine because they show someone really digging in and playing fast melodic runs on guitars that people seem to think can’t handle that kind of vigorous right hand technique.

But if they were so good to begin with, why did sales eventually taper off?

A refinished ’65 from a couple of years back. I actually put the stock bridge back on this one instead of the sloppily installed TOM. It was awesome.

Previously, I’ve explained that the most common complaints with the model aren’t the fault of the design, but rather, trying to make that design do things it was never intended to do: wearing a set of light gauge strings. In the Jazzmaster, Leo Fender’s intention was to appeal to Jazz guitarists by creating a solid body guitar with the string geometry of an archtop: a pitched-back neck, a floating bridge, and a tailpiece, and most importantly, all specifically designed to work with heavy gauge flat wound strings. We’re talking 12s, 13s, and 14s.

Once lighter gauges (9s and 10s) became the norm in the early to mid 1960s, inadequate string tension reduced the downward force on the bridge, resulting in tuning problems and string skipping. It’s like going off-roading with bald tires: you can certainly do it, but expect to slide around a bit.

At this point in my career I’ve set up well over a thousand of these guitars over the course of my career, and in the overwhelming majority of cases, once you throw on a set of 11 gauge rounds and shim the neck as Leo intended, they just work. They were good guitars then, and they’re still good guitars today.

For more information on setting up these guitars, have a look at our Demystifying series and my May 2017 cover story for Premier Guitar.

“We’ve made them functionally better”

It’s true that Fender has devoted a significant amount of time and resources into solving the perceived problems with these guitars, including modified vibrato positioning, redesigned bridges, strategically placed nylon bushings, and even neck pockets angled at the factory to eliminate the need for shims. These are all good ideas, a few even great; as is often the case when chasing mass appeal, some have not been as successful as Fender might have hoped.

Take the Classic Player, which features an angled neck pocket and an Adjust-O-Matic bridge yet can still fall prey to the same string path issues of more vintage-correct models. The AOM style bridge was not designed with a vibrato in mind, with sharp, shallow saddle slots that can cause tuning problems of their own. And that’s to say nothing of the mismatched 12” radius bridge on a 9.5” neck, which causes the E strings to be higher off of the fretboard than the D and G in the middle and makes for an inconsistent feel across the neck.

My friend Brian’s wonderful later model MarrGuar. An amazing guitar that set up beautifully.

Mooney specifically mentions the Johnny Marr model –– indeed a killer guitar –– yet it’s worth noting that many of the earliest of the bunch left the factory with 56mm bridge string spacing, which turned out to be only a hair slimmer than the width of the neck. Many players reported problems keeping the outer strings on the fretboard, which eventually led to Fender adopting slimmer 52mm spacing in later production runs (linked in case you need one). Here’s a shot of a lovely black one with the worst example of this I have yet to see.

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Scroll to see the neck and bridge string spacing problems.

A too-wide bridge…

…causing the E strings to fall off the neck when fretted

Strangely, the earliest American Professionals which came a few years later had the same problems, sometimes necessitating the need for aftermarket parts and prompting another mid-run update.

As for the new American Ultra guitars, they may not be for me but I can understand why many of the features might appeal to other players looking for a more modern take on the Jazzmaster. With an additional lead circuit control knob, a re-purposed rhythm circuit layout for out of phase operation, rollers for individual pickup volumes, and an S-1 switch for series options, it could be argued that functionally they’re more complex than ever.

However, once agin Fender curiously employs a mismatched bridge radius, this time a 9.5” bridge mated to a compound 10-14” radius neck, which puts the D and G strings higher off of the fretboard than the Es. Generally, compound necks work best when the string path is treated as a cone, flattening as it expands. In this case, a 16” bridge radius would set up far better than that of the stock part. I suspect we’ll start seeing even these guitars sporting alternative bridges before too long.

So yes, while it’s good that we’re seeing R&D dedicated to making adjustments, some of those adjustments haven’t actually solved the problems, but rather, changed the nature of them instead.

“Now you can actually play them.”

I’ve made this point abundantly not only in this piece but in nearly everything else I’ve done over the years, but the fact is that Jazzmasters and Jaguars were always playable –– stock bridge included. Take it from an ardent Mastery user: the original bridge is as viable as any other, and once it’s adjusted correctly it’s as fun as it is functional.

Not only is there a wealth of great music made with them over the years as proof, you can refer to articles on this blog, numerous posts on both my personal Instagram as well as Mike & Mike’s showing that the stock bridge is dependable and musical. Hell, every offset guitar the shop sells goes through the same setup process to show off what incredible instruments they can truly be with just a little extra effort.

Closing Arguments

Would you play this stripped ’61, original bridge and all? It was a total beast of a guitar.

Real talk: I get that Mooney’s comments may be a marketing tactic to steer customers toward the current lineup in the Fender catalog, and just in time for the holidays at that. You know the old song and dance: newer is better! Fender does make a great guitar and innovation can be a good thing, so to this I say, fair play.

Still, I have to believe there’s a better way to say so without throwing heritage –– and our beloved vintage instruments –– under the bus.

You see, over the last five or so years, it seems to have become fashionable in Fender’s corporate culture to downplay or outright disparage the legacy of Leo Fender, with reps at NAMM overheard saying things like “Leo didn’t get everything right” and “we fixed his mistakes,” phrases repeated at the onset of the latest feature set or spec tweak.

At best, comments like those in the previous sentence (as well as those which are the basis of this response) make Fender seem out of touch, and at worst, could erode the trust of a very loyal legion of customers.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll be saying it for as long as it needs saying: the Jazzmaster and Jaguar are Leo Fender’s most brilliant and misunderstood designs. It may have taken us 50 years to catch up, but now a growing and dedicated group of fans have found a unique sound here unlike anything you can get from other more traditional guitars.

Speaking personally, no matter what other instruments are available to me, I reach for an offset first. I have found my musical voice in the Jazzmaster and Jaguar, and I’m never more comfortable or more adventurous than when I have one in my hands.

One last quote:

“I have Jazzmasters and Jaguars… I have four in a line on my wall from 1966.”

Andy, if you’ve read this and have found any of it compelling, I’d love the chance to show you just how good those guitars on your wall can be. All I’ll need is a few sets of 11s or 12s, a screwdriver or two, and maybe a couple Cold Ones to share between us. Burritos are good, too.

Oh, and parking validation –– it’s a bit of a drive up from Long Beach and the last thing I want to deal with is finding a spot on those notoriously crowded Hollywood streets.

A bad guitar. A very bad guitar

An Open[ish] Response to Fender CEO Andy Mooney’s Thoughts on Offset Guitars In a recent interview with Reverb.com, Fender CEO Andy Mooney laid bare his true feelings about the Jazzmaster and Jaguar, and let me tell you, they were anything but glowing.

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xwaywardhuntress · 5 years

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Rock & Roll Mystery (Part Three)

Summary: Round 2 of Scooby-doo featuring Y/N.

Pairings: Dean x reader, Fred x reader

Warnings: Based on the Scooby-Doo & KISS movie. This part is kind of short.

Word Count: 1700+

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Scooby-Doo or KISS. This is fanfiction only. Please do not redistribute my writings on other sites, horrible or not. Thanks!

Part One, Two

“Alright gang, let’s look for clues again and split up.” Fred suggested.

Immediately, Velma volunteered herself to be paired with Sam. Shaggy and Scooby were assumed as their own pair.

Fred made his way over to you, “Would you give me the honor of pairing up with me?” Such a gentleman.

You glanced over at Dean who was talking to Daphne. Of course, Dean probably wanted to be paired up with her. It looked like you were going to have to take blondie up on his offer with the two Winchesters paired up with the Scooby gang females. As you were about to answer, Daphne appeared out of nowhere pulling Fred away, “Fred, you’re with me.” Her voice was quite stern.

You blinked in confusion. Daphne had literally appeared from her spot with Dean to where Fred was in a blink of an eye.

Dean made his way over to you with a smile. “I guess that leaves you and me, sweetheart.”

The way the pairs were split up, you and Dean were given the task to check out the areas near the bigger attraction rides. It felt a bit odd to be walking around without some kind of weapon, but this was a cartoon, what could go wrong?

“Velma is really into Sam. I think they are cute together.” You joked.

Dean laughed, agreeing.

You continued, as you avoided looking at Dean this time, “Sorry you got stuck with me. You probably wanted to be paired up with Daphne. I know she’s on your weird fantasy to-do list.”

“Nah, I’d rather be with someone I know has my back if things go bad. I’m sure I’ll have other chances. Or maybe, I’m meant to be with someone else.” The older Winchester shrugged.

You couldn’t help but wonder about what Dean meant in the last part of his sentence.

Before you had the chance to ask, Dean spoke first. “Man, I still can’t believe we got to see KISS. Even though they’re technically the c-word, this is awesome.”

You chuckled, “Yeah, it would be cool if we got to see more of them. It would be way more awesome if we got to stick around for the concert too! I mean, they haven’t toured since 2016 and…” You continued rambling on that you’d been hoping they’d go back on another tour, since the last time they did you all were too preoccupied dealing with Lucifer.

Dean listened with admiration as he began to imagine the two of you singing aloud to ‘Rock and Rock All nite’.

You were both interrupted from your thoughts when two very recognizable screams were heard nearby.

“That sounded like Shaggy and Scooby.” You pointed out.

Dean and Y/N ran towards where they heard the screams, only to find the scarlet witch chasing after the pair of best friends.

“What the hell? She’s flying?” Dean questioned.

“She looks transparent too. A ghost witch?”

“Damn witches.” He shook his head.

“Dean! We need to get her attention away from Scooby and Shaggy!” You called out. Your thoughts went to wishing you had some kind of iron bar, especially if your speculations about the witch of actually being a ghost were to be true. Feeling as if something just appeared in your back pocket, you reached behind, pulling out the iron bar that you had just wished for.

Dean looked at you surprised. “Where did you get that?”

“I don’t know, but get the witch’s attention over here!” You yelled as you prepared to defend yourself, holding the iron bar like a bat.

Scooby and Shaggy had jumped into the water portion of the water ride to try to escape the witch.

Meanwhile, Dean had yelled insults at the witch, which did catch her attention, but also may have made her more irritated looking than before. “Do you have another one, by chance?” He asked.

You thought about having another one, which you ended up magically pulling from your other back pocket and handing it to Dean. “Here.”

“You’re going to have to tell me later how you do that.” The older Winchester commented as he too held the iron bar like a bat, ready to take on the witch as well.

As the witch flew towards you and Dean, the blast of rock music caught the both of you off guard. The sound vibration seemed to have passed you two but amplified as it reached the witch who halted in flight as she covered her ears.

From beside you and Dean, the rock music continued as four figures appeared. One by one, the KISS members made a grand entrance, identical to Sailor Moon and her sailor scouts. How did you know that? Dean wasn’t the only one with a nerdy side.

Dean looked very confused.

You did as well.

What really confused the both of you more was watching as each KISS member that announced their presence ended their time in the spotlight with a move that sent a magical attack, with or without a musical instrument, at the witch. The witch withdrew as the fourth member of the KISS band finished their magical entrance and attack.

You and Dean looked at each other bewildered by the sudden chain of events. You both would have to ask questions later as you spotted Shaggy and Scooby floating on top of the water of the water ride. They weren’t dead, but they were beat from the chase and had passed out from extreme fear.

- - -

After the KISS members led Y/N and Dean, who each carried Scooby and Shaggy, to the park infirmary, the whole gang was reunited. Fred, Daphne, Velma and Sam had all received the news of the attack, as well as had witnessed some of the chasings that occurred throughout the park.

Sam pulled Y/N and Dean off to the side. “You both saw the witch?” Both of you nodded. “So is it our kind of supernatural mystery? Or just the typical person in a mask?”

You looked at Dean as you both answered, “Definitely our kind of supernatural mystery.”

The younger Winchester frowned.

You continued to speak, “It was weird. She was almost ghost-like and floated above the ground…”

“Yeah, it was a good thing Y/N was able to get iron bars out of thin air.” Dean added. “By the way, how did that even happen? You did the same thing with the Scooby snacks from before.”

You shrugged. It just happened and honestly, you weren’t going to question it as it could come in handy in this mystery.

As curious as Sam was about your sudden ability to have items appear out of the blue, his main concern was the witch who may also have been a ghost. “So we’re dealing with a ghost witch?” Sam asked confused.

“Not entirely sure?” You questioned your own knowledge. “We didn’t get a chance to use the iron bars because then they…” You looked over at the KISS members who just entered. “…appeared and did some Sailor Moon moves that sent some crazy magical attacks towards the witch, causing her to leave.”

“Sailor moon moves?” Sam questioned.

“It’s another car-“ Dean cleared his throat. “c-word, where it’s five under aged chicks with really short skirts that fight evil and save the world.”

Both you and Sam looked at Dean surprised.

“And you’ve watched it?” Sam asked concerned for his brother’s hobbies now.

“What?! No!” Dean rebuffed as he started coughing. “Cross my heart and hope to –” He paused for a moment, realizing he probably shouldn’t say die aloud. “Look, I just saw videos about it and then caught this one…” He pointed to you. “…watching it one time in her room.”

Sam rose an eyebrow, still questioning his brother’s words.

Fred came up to the trio, interrupting the private discussion. “Hey guys, KISS wants to tell us all something. I think you three should hear it too.”

With everyone gathered together again around Scooby and Shaggy, who were on the infirmary beds, KISS introduced a woman who was covered everywhere besides her eyes.

“Meet Chikara. She’s a fortune teller in the park.” Starchild shared.

The fortune-teller introduced herself again, this time adding that she came from an alternate universe along with the KISS members. Unfortunately, due to certain circumstances, the KISS members don’t remember this other dimension as they were sent to Earth to protect it from the prophesied return of the Crimson Witch, the witch’s true title. Along with the band members and herself, the Crimson Witch hails from the alternate universe known as KISSteria. The Crimson Witch plans to use the Black Diamond that KISS uses in their song “Detroit Rock City” to summon the Destroyer to conquer the Earth.

Everyone had a hard time wrapping their heads around this new development, specifically Velma.

“The probability of an alternate universe called KISSteria is highly unlikely.” Velma commented, pushing her glasses up her nose. “You’re likely confusing this alternate universe with the theme park.”

As Velma continued to reason out how impossible it was for an alternate universe, Sam pulled Dean and Y/N off to the side again. “What do you guys think? Do you guys believe the story?”

“We’ve dealt with alternate versions of ourselves before. I don’t see why not.” Dean shrugged in thought. “To think there’s a world that is all KISS themed, that’d be awesome to check out.”

“Hm.” You began sharing your thoughts. “It could be true. Lately, Scooby-Doo and the gang have dealt with actual magic from what I’ve watched. This mystery could be another one of those actual magical mysteries.”

Sam agreed, adding on, “The last time we were here too, there was a real ghost haunting and people actually died, so I think the story could hold true. Who knows, us being here could’ve made it real like last time.”

“Alright then. We stick with the gang and make sure nothing happens to them.” Dean suggested.

Y/N and Sam agreed as all three of them turned their attentions back to the bigger conversation with KISS and the fortune-teller.

“Sam, do you agree with this plan?” Velma asked looking at him as if hoping he wouldn’t.

The taller Winchester was surprised by the sudden question as he looked at Dean and Y/N who both shrugged, “Sorry, what plan?”

Fred spoke up, “KISS got their memories of KISSteria back and are going to take us to defeat the witch before she has a chance to take the Black Diamond.”

“Hold your horses. We’re going to KISSteria?” Dean questioned almost too excitedly.

“How?” You asked the question that seemed to have been avoided.

Fred turned to KISS, “That’s a good question, Y/N. How are we going to get there?”

“Easy. We have a ship and a portal.” The Demon stated with a grin.

Next: Part Four (Final Part)

Here’s some fun gifs from the actual scooby doo movie:

R&RM Tag:

@22sarah08 @monkeymcpoopoo @shameless-danni @blackmissfrizzle @happylittlesuns @cheritzie @leahslovelylibrary @walkerchick007

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #Rock & Roll Mystery #spn fanfic #Supernatural #scoobynatural imagine

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beautymercurydragon · 5 years

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UWU

@extremely-pearlmethirsty and @purple-moonfang here are some cute ship canons for Emma and Rebecca because they’re cuties and deserve this: (mostly quotes I found on the interwebs/online) (for those who don’t understand, Rebecca is 15 in the fic right now while Emma is 13)

- One time, the two girls feel asleep inside Rebecca’s bed at the Le Grand Paris, all snuggled up to one another with their heads buried in the crooks of each other’s neck, nuzzling against there and (sometimes) pecking little kisses there while they’re sleeping. Chloe fangirled and took pictures, sending them to both Adrien and Marinette. (14 and 16.)

- Despite their height difference, Emma knows how to throw Rebecca over her shoulders and carry her around places. She’s a strong little lady. (all ages.)

- One time, when they both had bite marks on their necks, they begged for Maddie and Vivienne not to tell their parents. They threatened to do so, but Maddie said she wouldn’t tattle if they gave her $100 in Monopoly money. Rose ended up concealing their bites, and Chloe, Kim, Adrien and Mari never found out. Well, until they were 21 and 23, that is. (ages 16 and 18.)

- When they reveal their relationship to the other girls, no one is surprised. They knew Rebecca was bi and that Emma was lesbian. Well, all of them except for Maddie. She was oblivious AF the entire time and shocked. She was horribly ashamed and had a stupid breakdown to Tikki. (13 and 15)

- When it’s incredibly early in the morning and Emma gets up, Rebecca protests by wrapping her arms around her and turning her over to kiss her. Emma tries to fight it, but gives in because she loves her (and kisses). (19 and 21)

- Maddie was the clingiest sister/in-law/best friend ever when they got married. Taking a million selfies/pictures with them and ranting about how their kids would be cousins (she was like, seven months pregnant at the time with her own baby), along with how Rebecca was never ever going to escape her now that they’re sisters-in-law. She sings ‘Never Ever Getting Rid Of Me’ from Waitress on Stage to prove her point to Becky (better enough, name of a character from the musical lol, I am SCREAMING), with the help of Luka, Nino, and Ivan to do instruments and a track. Everyone else is cracking up from laughter, including her best friends, sister and sister-in-law, along with her parents and husband. (22 and 24)

- Kara’s dirty mind/jokes don’t harm/bother them. They’re both females, so both of them are immune to her humor. (all ages)

- Emma burns their marriage certificate, and when Rebecca asks her why, she says ‘Now, you can’t return me without a receipt!’. Rebecca sobs in panic and calls Maddie wailing, resulting in her cursing out Emma for twenty minutes straight. (21 and 23)

- Rebecca calls Emma an idiot, but she points to her wedding ring and says ‘Yeah, I’m your idiot - forever!’ and they both lose it laughing. (23 and 25)

- Rebecca protests that when she goes away for the week to do soccer camp, Emma will be alright - cue her sneezing from seventy miles away. Rebecca freaks out and says she’ll be there in an hour. Vivienne says ‘I think I’m dying inside’, and Rebecca responds with ‘then suffer in silence’. (15 and 17)

- Rebecca’s nickname for Emma is Emmiekins or Kitty Kat, and Emma calls her Honeybee. Chloe and Marinette melt from the cuteness like the proud mothers they are. (all ages)

- When they go to Sweet Scoops with the other girls, Emma asks for a milkshake with two straws. Rebecca blushes profusely and asks her why she’d do such a thing, amazed by her sweetness - until Emma slurps down the shake with two straws by herself and Rebecca is slightly disappointed, but also amused by her fiancee’s silliness. (20 and 22)

- When they’re out on missions at ages sixteen and fourteen, Maddie asks them ‘are you fighting or flirting?’. They respond with ‘Yes’. (all the time.)

- Emma complains at school in the morning (thirteen at the time) about how she didn’t sleep. Maddie tells her, ‘you know that means someone is thinking about you, right?’. Emma doesn’t believe her, and says, ‘Who would think about me in the middle of the night?’. Rebecca panics on the floor while Victoria and Vivienne try to soothe her from her very bi panic attack. (13 and 16)

- On their one year wedding anniversary, they have a party to celebrate and Emma says ‘One year later and we’re still in love’. Rebecca says ‘Yeah! In your face, those who said we wouldn’t last a year!’. Jade’s only protest is ‘I stand by my wedding toast I spoke without being drunk’ while eyeing Kara, who was hilariously drunk at the reception, who is now embarrassed. (23 and 25)

- Kara dedicates a whole new set of jokes to them, and they’re not sure whether to feel flattered or embarrassed. But when Kara brings up how Emma gets turned on when Rebecca curses, they both blush bright red and run the hell away. (14-almost-15 and 17)

- They dress up as Haruka and Michiru from Sailor Moon for their first Halloween as wives. Jade screams and cries because she’s so proud of them. (22 and 24)

- Rebecca and Emma say they both appreciate the little things in life. They then hug Jade, who screams ‘F**k you both, I’m not that short!’. Kailie and Kara burst out in laughter and roll over, Vivienne snickers but tries to hide it, and Maddie applauds them. (14 and 16)

- Emma calls Rebecca dramatic. She says she isn’t, while wearing a handcrafted/made dress with the Kitty Noire and Queen Bee colors with a red rose in between her teeth, down on the floor with a bouquet of 300 roses in all of the different colors clutched in her hands. Emma is blushing like mad while Maddie swoon-melts, Kayla laughs, and Vivienne smiles. (19 and 21)

- Rebecca says to Vivienne that Emma is incredibly cool, and not because of her status. Being the naive innocent bean she is, Vivienne tells her bestie that she doesn’t have to think lowly of herself and that she’s an awesome person too. Rebecca’s response is ‘I’m not ragging on myself, I’m channeling the side of me that’s extremely gay’ and Vivienne shuts the f up. (13 and 15)

- Rebecca says to Emma ‘would you date someone that looks and acts like me?’, and she responds ‘why do you ask, know anybody?’. Rebecca gets really pissed and screeches at the top of her lungs ‘Because I love you, you dumbass cat’. Emma says ‘oh’ three times and is shocked, then she tackles Rebecca onto the floor and hugs her, and they forget everything else, say ‘f**k it’ and start making out. Jade, Vivienne and Maddie remind them where they are (the hotel), but they couldn’t care less. (13 and 15.)

- When their first child (girl) is born, Rebecca suggests they name her Hannah. Emma, being the stupid, pun-making kitty chat she is, plays the Hannah Montana theme and dances around, while her wife and sister shake their heads and laugh at her. (ages 24 and 26.)

- Chloe and Vivienne see Rebecca with a car-sized photo frame that has a picture of Emma in it. They ask her what she has, and holding a cake box in her other hands, she answers ‘a cake’. Sabrina and Kim are crying from laughter in the background while Victoria says ‘subtle, Kim’. (I’m an iCarly fan, lol.) (Emma’s sixteenth birthday, she’s 18.)

- When Tom and Sabine sit down with their granddaughter and her GF for the first time, they call her their other grandchild and she cries of happiness. Emma consoles her and gives her a kiss, while Tom and Sabine are convinced they hurt Rebecca’s feelings. (16 and 13-almost-14.)

- Considering how many stupid things Emma says, Rebecca states that she’s morosexual, meaning she’s attracted to idiots. Emma then asks ‘why is the Pink Panther pink?’, and Rebecca pushes her into her bedroom, taking her clothes off and calling Em a f**king idiot. (ages 17 and 19.)

- Just having seen Emma’s swimsuit photoshoots, Rebecca requests for Vivienne and Nathaniel to draw works of art for her. When they ask what, she responds ‘Emma in a bikini’ and they die of embarrassment. (17 and 19)

- When they got caught inside a closet by their friends, Jade had a nosebleed, Maddie screamed ‘ships are happening’ and Vivienne came in, crashing down the door and screaming ‘where are the ships’ at the top of her lungs. (ages 20 and 22.)

- When she wasn’t sure whether her feelings were true or not, Emma goes to Juleka and Rose to ask them about her love for Rebecca. They ship it so hard and give her happy, kind and supporting advice and she is so very flattered.

- And finally, when Rebecca graduates from high school, Tom and Sabine are there, standing up and screaming ‘THAT’S OUR GRANDDAUGHTER!!! SHE’S GRADUATING!!!!’ and them along with Adrien and Marinette are so proud of her. Chloe, Kim, their other three children and Chloe’s parents are cheering for her too, watching the Dupain-Chengs and Agrestes with smiles. Rebecca tears up and hugs Maddie and Emma, then she hugs Tom and Sabine. Tom almost comes close to suffocating her by mistake, but stops when realizing. (16 and 18)

@extremely-pearlmethirsty you better respond to this post and tell me what you think, because I need feedback on these sweet little headcanons and the ability to make people melt XD. Do it.

(for newbies to my blog, go to the search by on my blog page and type in ‘miraculous ladybug next-gen’ to see more about it. The reference for each child is coming up later tonight for you all to see.)

@purple-moonfang this is adorable, isn’t it?

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 6 years

Text

Safe with me (Epilogue)

Summary: When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. As Bucky Barnes comes into your life, the game changes, and you realise falling for the man tasked with keeping you safe is the last thing you expected.

Characters: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. Brief description of smut. Mentions of depression.

A/N: The end has arrived! This Epilogue is a complete homage to CHAPTER 1, so I suggest giving that a quick re-read before diving in.

I am genuinely blown away at the reception this story has received - I never expected it and I’m SO grateful to each and every one of you. I’ve spent six months writing these characters and thinking daily about this story, and I’ll admit I’m feeling a little emotional about the end. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing.

SAFE WITH ME MASTERLIST PREVIOUS CHAPTER

*****

NEW YORK TIMES SUNDAY EDITION Features Section

The measure of a man By Anonymous

James Buchanan Barnes sits primly before me, mismatched hands folded on the table. Pushing a cup of coffee toward him, he unlinks his fingers, clasping them gratefully around the steaming mug.

"I don't really do interviews," he confesses. "Not sure what to say."

"That's okay," I tell him. "This isn't about being perfect or saying the exact right thing. It's just about being yourself."

He makes a face at that. "I don't think myself is something people want to hear about."

Looking into his nervous blue eyes, I give him a reassuring smile. "They absolutely will. People want to know the man behind the mask."

He doesn't like talking about himself, has never been overly comfortable in the limelight. Rolling his shoulders back, he takes a deep breath and gives me a tentative nod.

Like any good story, context is important, so we begin down the familiar route.

"Let's start at the beginning."

******

Crisp morning air wafts through the small kiosk, fluttering the bright covers of the magazines and newspapers lining the shelves. Taking a long drink of coffee, Riz smacks his lips and leans over his front counter, watching Manhattan's morning routine play out around him.

From out of nowhere, a giant stack of newspapers is hurled onto the counter and Riz tumbles back in surprise.

"What the - "

Bucky Barnes stands before him, wearing an old leather jacket and a delighted grin.

"Morning Riz, I need them all today. Oh, and by the way," he digs into his back pocket and pulls out a crumpled sheet of paper, tossing it carelessly on the stack. "Got something to show you."

The black ink is smudged in places, but there it is, the numbered boxes filled with careful block letters.

Last Sunday's New York Times crossword.

Completed.

Riz stares at the paper in astonishment. Looking up, he begins to laugh at the smug triumph on Bucky's face.

"I fucking told you I'd finish one," Bucky says, slapping his hand on the puzzle once more to reinforce his success.

Still chuckling, Riz reaches below the counter and produces a dusty rectangle wrapped in tissue paper. Bucky peels away the layers, grinning happily when it reveals a black picture frame. Riz gives him a friendly slap on the arm.

"My friend, I never doubted you."

*****

He needs no real introduction.

Familiar to anyone who cracked a grade school history book in the last seventy years, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes is a quiet enigma. The American public first met him in 1943 as Sergeant Barnes, Howling Commando and right-hand man to Captain America. His lopsided smile became so well-loved, a comforting staple in the news cycle, the women on the home front declared it a national treasure. America swooned for him, cheered for him, prayed for him, and ultimately mourned him when the reports came home of his KIA status in 1945.

When he was resurrected in Washington DC, amid a whirlwind of gunfire and explosions, he was another figure entirely. Life ripped to pieces and commandeered for decades by Hydra's brutality, he bore only a faint resemblance to the grainy black and white pictures of America's charming hero.

The history books lean into war, into combat, into the tragedy of his service; it's where the facts are most prevalent, irrefutable and absolute. Barnes' first war was for his country and his second was against it, but both lead to an unfortunate truth – most of his life, has been death.

But, beneath that iron exterior lies something else. Focused on consolidating facts and figures, history so often forgets that war is comprised of a much more important number – the beating hearts and terrified souls of those on the battlefield. Soldiers are the flesh and bone reflection of a generation's ideals and Barnes is no different than the millions who came before and after him. Stretched across the burned-out fields and shattered cities of Europe, his first war was one who's consequences still reverberate decades later.

That was his first taste of battle. It was harsh and unforgiving, but in the grand scheme of things – it was blessedly brief.

His next experience would last a lifetime. As his world careened out of control, his moral compass was broken and recalibrated, setting a man full of soft smiles and boisterous laughter, down a path of unimaginable pain and torment.

Through the course of both his lives, he's been known by a million different names. James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky Barnes. Sergeant Barnes. The Asset. The Winter Soldier. Before we go any further, I want to make something crystal clear.

The man you will meet, is more than a number stamped on a paper-thin set of dog tags, clinking loose around his neck. He is more than the shadowy name in a ledger of Hydra weaponry, carefully and perfectly aimed. He is more than a salacious headline, blazoned across gossip sites for the world to read.

He is more. He is much, much more.

I want everyone to know him, because Bucky Barnes is worth knowing.

*****

Walking through the Tower, Bucky's giant stack of papers grows smaller. Opening every page to the Features section, he leaves copies scattered in every room he visits.

The coffee table in the common room. One in Steve's bedroom. One in Wilson's bathroom. One in Natasha's mailbox, because no fucking way would he try to sneak in her room. A copy in the library. One on each treadmill in the gym. One on Bruce's desk. Pausing outside Tony's lab, he sends the online link to Pepper and asks if she can post it to the official Avengers social handles. She responds with a winky face telling him it's already been done.

"FRIDAY, did you see it?" he asks excitedly, waving his last copy as he plops down on the sofa.

"Yes, Sergeant Barnes," comes the Irish lilt and Bucky wonders for the millionth time, how an AI can sound amused. "I found it to be an inspiring piece. She's a lovely writer."

"Yeah," he agrees fervently. "She's fucking awesome." Rustling the pages, he finds the article and folds it open, swallowing the lump in his throat when he reads the headline. Even though he has your story memorized at this point, he sinks into the words one more time.

*****

"Talk to me about growing up with Steve," I say, turning my phone to record and setting it between us.

Barnes looks to the ceiling and gives a low whistle. "Jesus Mary and Joseph," he says, "that kid needed a leash. Stubborn ass little ball of piss and vinegar, always getting me in trouble."

The pair met in a baseball field behind their apartment complex, when Barnes was seven-years-old, kick starting the most famous friendship in modern history.

"First time I met him, he was getting his ass handed to him. When I tried to pull him away, he was so wound up he took a swing at me. Got an arm around him and the little punk bit me. Still got the scar." Barnes extends his right forearm with a grin, showing me a faint pair of half-moons on his skin. "I knocked him upside the head, and then he wipes his bloody nose on his shirt and apologizes. Been best friends ever since."

Rogers is well-known for diving head-first into any fray, a behaviour an exasperated Barnes maintains he hasn't changed since that sweaty summer day in 1925.

"Look, he's a reckless idiot," Barnes states. "My best damn friend in the world and I'd do anything for him, but he's still an idiot."

Barnes is a colorful storyteller, spinning tales about their adventures through the streets and alleys of pre-war Brooklyn. While he talks, I find myself picking up on a theme, the word future cropping up several times. He doesn't notice until I ask.

"When you were growing up, what did you see in your future? How did you picture your life?"

Barnes raises his eyebrows at the question, falling silent as he thinks. He scratches his fingernail on the edge of the table for a few minutes, trying to articulate his thoughts. When it comes, I'm surprised.

"Not as a soldier. I never wanted to be a soldier." He bites his lip and when he speaks again, his voice is soft. "Guess I wanted what everyone wanted then. Get a decent job, put food on the table, buy a house someday. Find a nice girl to settle down with, maybe raise a couple kids. Grow old together." He gives me a wistful smile. "Always liked learning, would've loved to go to college."

The simplicity of his response is all the more heart-breaking, considering the trajectory he would later be set upon.

"All I ever really wanted, was a quiet, ordinary life."

******

The bruises littering your skin have mostly faded, the rope markings around your neck nothing more than a faint rash. Unconsciously rubbing the scabs on your wrists, you find the pain is gone, leaving behind a dull ache.

It's been over a week since that night and the entire experience still seems like a bizarre dream. There will be plenty of time spent parsing apart the details with a professional, and in fact Steve already booked you several months of weekly appointments with an experienced trauma therapist he knows through the VA. It's a relief to have that on the horizon, someone to help you work through everything.

Behind the walls of your heart though, a strange feeling emerges, one that is deeply frustrating. After everything he did, it kills you to think the traitorous thought, but your brain refuses to cooperate and there it is – there's a tiny part of you mourning the loss of a man you thought you knew. Not the man he really was – Jack deserved his violently bloody ending and you would never take that from Bucky. But Jack was someone you trusted, a mentor and friend, and you're bitterly disappointed in your inability to see the real man until it was nearly too late.

Nearly too late.

"But it wasn't," you say out loud, irrationally proud of the steadiness in your voice.

At Bucky's insistence, you've been comfortably ensconced in the Brooklyn apartment since you came back. Away from the bustle of the city, it's been heaven to hide away, resting and recovering.

Well, and of course – spending every possible minute with the moody, uncontrollable, uncooperative bucket of sarcasm that is none other than James Buchanan Barnes.

Waiting for him to come home, you wander through the comfortable apartment. Picking up his well-worn copy of The Book Thief, you tuck it carefully into the empty slot on the bookcase, tracing your fingers over the lettering down the spine, smiling to yourself.

Stepping back, you scan the familiar artwork on the walls, marvelling again at the cracked and peeling photos, at the beauty of Steve's sketches. Right then, your eye pauses when you notice two new additions.

In a shiny green frame, is an adorably childish marker drawing of a smiling Bucky holding the hand of a little girl with dark pigtails. Everyone is dressed head to toe in pink and the bottom is signed 'Gracie' in bright purple letters. The sweetness of the statement, of Bucky going to the trouble of framing and hanging artwork an adoring kid drew for him, makes your heart flip.

Above the drawing, in a simple black frame, is the other new addition. Peering closer, you find the selfie you took the night of Stark's party. Swallowing hard, you reach to touch the frame, losing yourself in memories of that night. The smooth motion of Bucky swaying, the feel of sinking into his arms, his quiet hums of pleasure sending ripples down your back.

"I had Stark get it off your phone for me," the husky voice is unexpected and you let out a bloodcurdling shriek when strong arms wind around you. Bucky chuckles, holding you tight, mouthing at the soft skin behind your ear. "Sorry, thought you heard me. Least you didn't attack me with M&Ms this time."

"That's only because we're out of them," you grumble, turning in his arms. Bucky grins, rubbing his nose to yours, before catching your lips with a sweet kiss. When he presses you against the wall, you feel every delicious inch of his heavy body and you shiver at the promise behind his hard grip. Smiling into the kiss, you slide your tongue against his, feeling the heat pool in your belly, before reluctantly pulling away. He gives a soft whine at the loss of contact, full lips dropping into a pout.

"Pathetic, Barnes," you sigh and he pouts harder. "Fine, you giant fucking baby. Ravish me then."

"Hell yes," he breathes, lifting you easily and tugging your legs tight around his waist. "Hell fucking yes."

*****

Ordinary was a sweet word, but it wasn't meant to be. Unknown to him, the darkest day of his life was drawing closer, one that would spin him in an entirely new direction.

Searching for more context around that horrifying day, I went straight to the man who saw it first-hand. He sheds the mantle when he talks about this memory, no longer Captain America – here, he is only Steve Rogers, a helpless young man watching his best friend fall to his death.

"I couldn't do anything. Nothing. I just watched him slip away," Rogers says. His guilt is palpable, the musings of a man shouldering far too much. "It pisses him off when I say it, but it's the truth. Won't ever forgive myself."

Barnes shakes his head when I mention this, adamant in his refusal to assign a hint of blame.

"There was nothing he could have done," he states emphatically. "Absolutely nothing."

While Rogers can recount every horrifying detail of that day, in this small fact, Barnes is lucky. I ask him what he remembers.

"It's funny. I remember wondering how the hell my hands could be so sweaty when it was so damn cold outside." He flexes the fingers of his right hand, considering them. "I lost my grip on the bar and I heard Steve screaming. I don't remember the fall itself though, must've passed out on the way down. Next thing I know, I open my eyes and I'm half-buried in snow. There was – the snow was red. All around me, bright red. My arm wouldn't move and I couldn't feel anything from the waist down."

Most of Hydra's files from the start of the Winter Soldier project have been lost, either as they changed hands over the years or through the natural decay of time, but those recovered allude to Barnes suffering catastrophic injuries in the fall that should have left him dead. His left arm was found hanging by no more than a few strips of muscle, his spine was shattered, his lungs nearly collapsed. There was no possible reason he should have survived.

But – running through his veins was something unexpected.

"Knock-off Nazi trash serum," Barnes drily refers to it. During his weeks spent as a POW in Azzano (the Hydra work camp he was liberated from in 1943), Barnes was an unwilling participant in a number of experiments conducted by that same Arnim Zola he was chasing that day on the train.

Laying in the snow, Barnes admits he thought he'd reached the end of the line. Every soldier entertains the possibility they may never return home, and Barnes made peace with that fact.

"Here's the thing. I had a family waiting for me in Brooklyn. A baby sister I promised to give away at her wedding. A best friend I left hanging on a busted train miles above me. I was 27-years-old, lost in another country, and I sure as hell didn't want to die. I kept thinking I had so much damn living left in me, so much I wanted to do."

His words are tragic in their familiarity, a prayer to be repeated by thousands of voices in the decades that followed, from Korea to Vietnam, from Iraq to Afghanistan. Generations of young men and women just like Sergeant Barnes, left broken and bleeding on foreign soil.

He cracks the knuckles on his right hand while he thinks.

"It seemed inevitable though, so I tried to get myself ready. Remember it being dead silent in that canyon, so I had plenty of time to think. Plenty of time to cry. There were definitely tears. But the longer I laid there, I started to feel warm and things didn't hurt so much. So, I thought hell, if I gotta go, maybe this is better than taking a bullet and bleeding out in the middle of a firefight." Barnes gives a hollow smile. "But right as it got dark, I heard dogs barking. Next thing I know, I'm surrounded by men shouting in Russian. Couldn't move a damn finger, couldn't do anything but lay there and panic. Took a boot to the head and passed out."

Here, he gets a distant look in his eyes. "The next time I woke up, it was – I don't understand it, I don't know how, but I guess it was months later. I was strapped to a table and the whole left side of my body felt like I'd been hit by a train." His lip curls. "And there was Zola, looking down at me again. Thought I was having a flashback."

It wasn't a flashback. On that surgery table, was the start of a waking nightmare that would continue unabated for the next seventy years.

******

The first night you spent together was marked with heat and urgency, a clear desperation to feel each other before the moment was lost. When Bucky pushed you away the morning after, it broke your heart, but the night itself, before all hell broke loose – it was beautiful and perfect and right. You wouldn't trade it for anything.

Now, though.

Now.

Fuck.

All his tight control and fervent attention to detail is one thing when he shifts into work mode – but in bed, when he turns that intense focus directly on you, he is devastating. Every stroke of his fingers comes slow and purposeful, building the heat in your stomach. Every kiss drips with love against your sweaty skin, full of unspoken promise. Every move of his body in yours is deliberate, wringing every last drop of pleasure he can coax from your body.

He was the kind of lover you dreamed about, committed to pleasing you above all else, making you feel everything again and again and then once more for good measure.

Never breaking his steady rhythm, Bucky now pulls you to your knees, your back flush against his chest. Wrapping his arm tight across your breasts, his tongue drags a leisurely line up your neck, his other hand slipping between your legs.

Breathless little grunts fall from his lips, warm panting against your skin with each sharp snap of his hips. Closing your eyes, you mirror his movements, clinging to the cool metal at your chest, desire crawling up your spine when you reach down and feel his fingers rubbing quickly.

Murmuring filthy little comments in your ear as he pushes into you, his words spark some unknown part of you that apparently lives for the sound of Bucky Barnes telling you how good you make him feel, how much he loves fucking you. Breath suddenly wrenched from your lungs, you tumble headfirst over the edge with a low, satisfied moan.

"There you go, that's it," he whispers encouragingly, sucking the smooth skin on your shoulder as you tremble in his arms, spiraling further and further.

You hope you never stop falling.

*****

Memories are a strange thing.

Through his time with Hydra, Barnes had his brain repeatedly wiped, cleared and cleaned out again and again. Since his return to the land of the living, thanks to intensive therapy and a determined Captain Rogers, he has broad strokes and frames of reference back in his life, remembrances before the fall settled firmly in his brain. But vestiges of his past still linger, and his time with Hydra has resulted in a sort of shared mental capacity.

"There's another guy in your life," I begin hesitantly and I see Barnes' lips twitch.

"That's one way to put it," he says.

When Barnes speaks of the Winter Soldier, his expression grows grim. The lines of his life are irrevocably tied to this legendary presence, a ghost sitting on the fringes of his mind, something more myth than reality. It is a heavy burden to bear.

"For the longest time, I tried to keep us separate. The Soldier was one thing. I was another. It was easier to blame all the terrible things that happened on him, rather than admit I played any part in it." I remind him he didn't – that's the fundamental issue with brainwashing, and he gives me a patient smile. "In theory, I know. All those years, it wasn't me. I know. But I still did it."

On a personal level, I own a single memory of the Winter Soldier, one that is overwhelming in its complexity. He was everything you've imagined. Hard. Violent. Angry. But behind that mask, I found a man I never expected. Gentle. Confused. Protective. Kind. The Soldier was a kaleidoscope of emotions, neatly packaged in the mind of a man who spent his entire life at the mercy of others.

I will not condone his past and neither will Barnes, but I highlight this simply to signal the opportunity for redemption. Earning that redemption has been a long process, one Barnes started by first bringing back his memories of their shared past. He recalls the experience of remembering cautiously, the process itself a memory that makes him flinch.

"There were days when nothing would happen. Mind would just stay white, it wouldn't show me anything. That was frustrating, but also kind of a relief. If I couldn't remember, then I didn't have to face up to the things I'd done. But other days. God." He blows out a huge breath and leans back in his chair, raking his hands through his dark hair. "They came back with a vengeance."

Sometimes the memories were hazy, surreal fever dreams that felt confusing in their reality. Other times, they were shockingly vivid, nightmares from which he visibly shudders as he recalls.

Not everything was returned, which is both a blessing and a curse. Some things his brain refuses to allow in, a coping mechanism he doesn't try too hard to unravel. He knows there are some things better left forgotten.

But where he can, as much as he can, he is adamant about making amends. He understands it won't change the past. That's not the point.

When he breaks it down for me, I ask a loaded question. Is there a measure of peace that comes with remembering? His nose wrinkles as he thinks, playing with the coffee mug still in his hands. One thing about Bucky Barnes, is that he never delivers a half-baked response. When he finally answers, his words have a philosophical bend.

"Yes. I've come to grips with the fact that all those years weren't something I could control. I don't like to remember, but I think I owe it to people." He nods slowly while he speaks, as if convincing his own heart to get in line. "If remembering is my penance, if my suffering gives others peace, then I guess yeah – I'm happy to pay it."

*****

Sucking tiny hickeys down his neck, you laugh at the sound of his pleased little purrs. Leaving one last purpley-red bruise above his heart, you settle comfortably between his legs and fold your hands across his bare chest. Propping your chin on your knuckles, you study him.

"Do you know my first impression of you, the day we met?"

Bucky raises a lazy eyebrow and grins. "Shock at how devastatingly handsome I was?"

"Don't get cocky Barnes, you're not that good in bed."

"Yes, I am," he promptly replies.

Wiggling against him, you rub your cheek against the bristly hair on his chest. "Hmmm. True. Anyway, I remember that day, you were acting all pissy and annoyed, big shocker I know, and I was looking at your scruffy face – "

"I didn't have time to shave that morning," he interrupts.

"And all your fluffy hair – "

"I was having a great hair day," he confirms.

"And that old leather jacket – "

"It's my favorite jacket, makes me look sexy and intimidating," he says.

"Buck, I'm trying to tell a story here."

"Right. Sorry babe."

"Anyway. You were standing there with your scruffy face and fluffy hair and that leather jacket, and I kept thinking you were the kind of guy who'd screw a girl in a bar bathroom, slap her ass, and never call."

"That sounds very unsanitary," he whispers, tapping your nose lightly. "But if you really want to try, I'll give it a go."

"What a saint."

"I really am."

*****

Just thinking about everything Barnes has experienced is enough to make my brain ache. Imagining what it must have been like for him, is baffling.

"All those years, through everything – how did you cope with it all?"

"I fought it for a long time, until they figured out how to wipe it all out – my memories, who I was. The longer I was out of cryofreeze, the more random thoughts would come back, but it was so confusing. I'd end up trying to compartmentalise it all. Separate it out, put parts of my life and my memories into little boxes in my head. It was the only way I could deal with it.

His ability to compartmentalise and separate himself from the situation at hand, would prove to be useful, a common coping method for trauma survivors. "I'd kind of retreat into myself. I got very good at finding safe spaces in my head." He gives a nonchalant shrug. "Knew if I didn't, there'd be hell to pay."

He must have learned new things then, other ways of coping. What gets him through the days now?

"I guess – it's like, you just put one foot in front of the other. Every day, you get up and do it and at some point, it becomes second nature."

"What was it like in the beginning?"

Rubbing his jaw, he shakes his head. "It was terrible. There were weeks I didn't want to get out of bed. Was terrified of what I might do, who I might see. And everything just felt – heavy, I guess? Not sure that's the right word. It was like my brain wanted to give up, but my body wasn't done yet. I hid from real life for a long time."

Known during WW2 as Combat Stress Reaction, Barnes was familiar with his symptoms. It took no time at all to diagnose him with one of the most disturbingly common conditions affecting those in service: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

"It wasn't something we talked about back then," he says. "But we all knew what it was. People just tried to deal with it though, they didn't look for help."

The world has changed for the better and now discussions around this topic are no longer taboo. Even then, Barnes says he initially found it difficult, because the idea of it – of help – was such a foreign concept. Now though, he's an enthusiastic supporter.

"We don't talk about it enough," he says firmly. "It's better now, but we need to be more open and honest with each other, so we can figure out how to live." Tipping his mug back, he drains the last dregs of coffee. "Humans are weird, you know? We make things hard sometimes and we shouldn't. You can't be afraid to ask for help. You're not alone."

*****

Bucky picks up his phone and gives a cursory glance at the list of notifications. The screen lights up with message after message, line after line, and he scrolls through nervously, before he realizes what he's seeing.

"Jesus H Christ."

Feeling your heart lurch, you look at him in alarm. "What? What happened?"

Slowly, he turns his phone screen to face you, eyes comically wide, face bone white.

"I'm trending on Twitter."

*****

Part of me expected Barnes to have a limited knowledge of culture and history. He likes to feign confusion at times ("honestly, screwing with Sam Wilson is a highlight in my life"), but in reality, he's one of the sharpest people I've met. Spending so much of his life as an undercover operative, he was required to keep up to speed on the world, always assimilating into new environments.

Finding a work-life balance is key though, so what are the things he does for fun, just for himself?

"Netflix," he declares. "is the greatest thing ever invented. You know Stranger Things, right? I love Eleven, that kid's my hero."

Agreeing wholeheartedly, I push him to expand. What else?

"Um, I like to eat? Tacos, pizza. Snickers. Breakfast cereal. Damn, yeah. Breakfast cereal. I could eat Captain Crunch every single day of my life. Captain Crunch kicks Captain America's ass."

On that note, he has a famous relationship with Steve Rogers, but what about the rest of the Avengers?

"Took me awhile to fall in with the team," he says matter of fact. "Didn't trust them and they sure as hell didn't trust me. But now? I'd take a bullet for any of them. They're – we're family."

Time for our interview is winding down, and Barnes is finally relaxed. With my final set of questions, I struggle to keep the smile off my face, but I can't help myself.

"You know you've got quite the status as a moody broody heartthrob, right?"

His eyes go wide at the question, a red flush instantly staining his cheeks. "What? No. No, that's – no. No. I'm definitely not – no. God no."

The look of horror on his face is entertaining and I wait for him to finish spluttering before I continue. "So, are you saying you're single? A free agent?"

He looks taken aback for a moment, but when realization arrives, along with a sparkle in his eye, he relaxes. He knows what I'm doing.

"I didn't say that."

"So – there's a special someone then?"

Barnes gives me that trademark smile and ducks his head. "Well, there's this girl."

"Tell me about her."

"She's a real pistol," he enthuses. "Smart. Funny. A real ball-breaker. Swears more than anyone I've ever met."

"She sounds like fun."

"She is," he agrees. Tilting his head, he fixes me with an intense stare and his voice grows serious. "She's got my whole damn heart, right in the palm of her hand. It's all hers. I'll spend every day if I need to, making sure she knows that."

At his words, my heart leaps. When I try to respond, I hear my voice crack.

"She's a lucky girl."

"Nah," he replies, bashful at the compliment. Reaching across the table, he picks up my hands and holds them tight. "I'm the lucky one. She makes me feel safe."

*****

"We haven't left this bed for a couple days. Should we go do something?" Drawing random little patterns across his skin, you pause at his nipple and give it a pinch.

"Nope, we're staying put," he says, shoving your fingers away and giving you a stern look. "That tickles."

"Does it?" Tweaking his nipple again, he yelps.

"Woman, don't you listen?"

"Sorry, couldn't hear you over the sounds of someone being a whiny bitch."

With an outraged growl, he rolls you over, using his knee to shove your legs open and pinning your arms above your head.

"Wanna try again?"

Batting your eyelashes at him, you mirror his earlier pout. "I was just saying how devilishly handsome you were and how much I love you."

Bucky grunts his approval. "That's what I thought."

Stretching up, you leave a sloppy kiss on his chin. "So, are we leaving or what?"

"Hard no," he shakes his head. "Made myself a promise, I'm not breaking it."

"Did you now? And what was that?"

"That if I got you back, if I didn't fuck it up again, I was keeping you in my bed for at least a week. Minimum."

"Hmmm," you say, trying to keep your face serious. "Sounds like a solid plan, except what if I want to shower?"

"Excellent," Bucky breathes, eyes lighting up at the question. "Then I'll join you. Never know what kind of trouble you'll find in the shower, when you're all wet and slick and soapy – yep, that's it. You're a dirty, dirty girl. Shower time you hussy, move your ass."

Scrambling off the bed, he tosses you over his shoulder and palms your bare ass, squeezing a handful. Giving you a playful smack, he stalks toward the bathroom, the sound of his happy laughter echoing through the apartment.

******

Recently, there was news coverage around the Avengers taking down a Hydra sleeper cell in upstate New York. The mission was led by Sergeant Barnes and was deemed a success, with the threat being fully eradicated.

That mission, was put in motion to save someone.

That someone, was me.

Here's the thing. In journalism, you need to remain unbiased and when I'm reporting on news, I'll always strive to report the unbiased facts. But if you haven't guessed yet, I have a more personal stake in this story.

Combine everything you know about James Buchanan Barnes, from annals of history to the words I've shared today, and you have a fact-based portrait of this remarkable man.

But facts are not what make up the measure of any human being.

Here's what else I know.

When he gets nervous, his palm sweats. He's terrible at sharing food and shamelessly blames his super soldier metabolism for that fact. When he concentrates, his nose scrunches up and when he laughs you can find little wrinkles circling his eyes. Sometimes when he can't sleep, he wanders down to the local rest home to visit with Alzheimer's patients, because he knows what it's like to not remember. He always keeps a crossword in his pocket because it keeps his brain sharp. He loves Rocky Road ice cream and fuzzy blankets and his favourite colour is actually pink. Bitter black coffee is his drug of choice and he could watch 'I Love Lucy' all day long.

Even now, as I hand you these snippets of his life and let you paint your own picture of the man so many still scathingly refer to as the Soldier, it's only a rough sketch. Like every person on this planet, Bucky Barnes is comprised of more complex layers and subtle nuances than it is possible to describe, a man full of contrasts. Made of unbreakable metal and soft touches, at times frighteningly rough and astonishingly gentle, swathed in despair and brimming with light. He's seen the blackest horrors lurking in the chaos of war and experienced first-hand the depravity of humanity, yet he remains one of the most compassionate people I've ever known.

The first day we met, I contemptuously declared "I don't do soft human-interest stories."

How times have changed.

Here I am, pen in hand and heart on my sleeve, so soft for this man I feel it in my bones. We live in a world where good does not always triumph over evil and where far too often, love is not enough. I am lucky beyond measure to have found Bucky Barnes. So here, at the end of my story, I leave these words, for him and him alone.

If Death sees fit to grant me his heart, I'll offer my own in return. Unreservedly, now and always.

*****

Bucky watches the shadows lengthen through the apartment as the sun sets. Eventually he'll get up and turn on a lamp to chase the dark away, but for now he's content to lay here with you humming sleepily, twirling a finger around his damp hair.

Sprawled together on his bed, tangled up in each other, the word flits through his mind. Bucky understands what he has now, what you gave to him. What it means to be –

Safe.

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #safe with me #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic

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dcarevu · 5 years

Text

Batman TAS: Moon of the Wolf

“If it’s a fight you’re looking for, try starting one with me!”

Episode: 43 Robin: No Writer: Len Wein Director: Dick Sebast Animator: Akom Airdate: November 11, 1992 Grade: B

This is perhaps one of the more infamous episodes of Batman TAS, being grouped with episodes like I’ve Got Batman in My Basement on several “worst” lists I’ve seen. But I don’t know, I didn’t think it was that bad the first time I saw it, and I don’t think it’s that bad now. Not a classic episode by any means, but it held my and Char’s attention, giving us some excitement and a pretty cool-looking villain. I can’t speak for everyone, but I think the werewolf-factor may directly affect people’s opinions, even though we’ve seen very similar through Tybrus and Man-Bat. If we can accept a giant cat-like creature created in a laboratory and a human-sized bat that flies around and turns back into a human, why is a werewolf suddenly just too much to believe? Probably because of how the story presents all this, which we will get into in just a second, but I did want to drop the bomb that I like this one, and all the complaints I have are pretty light.

So when the title card drops, we get some weird electric guitar that sounds like no other music the series has played. Think along the lines of The Last Laugh with how foreign that hip hop felt at the time. But now we’re more than 40 episodes in, and we’re so used to the orchestral stuff. On top of the werewolf, a lot of people seem to have a problem with the instrument choice, and I think that the episode could have gotten around it if the electric guitar was slowly inducted, reaching its most intense during the climax. That would have given us a little time to get used to it. Even though I like it, it was jarring to hear right away, right after the theme song we get to see every time.

After the title card, we start out at the Gotham zoo. Umm.. Okay. We’re starting at the zoo again? For the second episode in a row? The zoo really isn’t that interesting of a Batman location in my opinion. If I were writing this show, that would be a last resort setting. Y’know, not only is this the second episode in a row to start at the zoo, but it’s also the second episode in a row that deals with a human-sized creature of the night like this. Was this because of the time of year? Were these originally both planned for an October release? They must have had animals on the brain. Anyway, at the zoo a security guard’s dog starts going a little crazy, and a werewolf pops out from the shrubbery. This werewolf is incredibly awesome-looking, with gross slobber, these glowing eyes, and a very high intimidation factor. The werewolf gives the guard a hard time, but then Batman arrives on the scene, kicking the thing away. Batman does not typically pop up this early without some setup, so jumping into this type of action was a nice change of pace, even if other aspects we have seen recently. Batman fights off the werewolf, but it eventually gets away of course, because we’re still early in the episode. Going back to the Batcave, Batman tells Alfred that he fought a mugger wearing a werewolf mask. Looking at the creature, it’s pretty evident that this is no costume (or at least, no costume that your average mugger would likely be able to afford to run around and get into fights in), but more importantly, I don’t know why Batman doesn’t just assume that the creature is what it is. Bringing up Tyger, Tiger again, he just fought a humanoid-animal. It’s already been established that this kind of thing can happen in this world. Let’s move on from this! Batman notices some wolf fur on his gloves, and he actually ends up testing it, revealing it to be legitimate wolf-fur. But Batman thinks that it could just be an incredibly expensive costume. Look, guys, superheroes get brain-farts too. “What if that guy wasn’t wearing a mask?” Oh, I don’t know, I guess it would be exactly like what you’ve already experienced!

We get to see the identity of the werewolf as it arrives at this little shanty, and it turns out to be some guy named Anthony Romulus. The person in charge of him, forcing him to do his bidding, is Dr Milo, someone we saw in Cat Scratch Fever. He was honestly the last villain I ever expected to see again, and had no memory of him showing up here. Um. Welcome back, Milo? Dr Milo is a smug son-of-a-gun, and is using Anthony to…well, I think he’s just using him for money, as far as I can tell, and for doing his errands and chores (like killing the security guard). I don’t know why he wanted the security guard dead, because the security guard had no idea who he was anyway, but maybe he’s just tying up loose ends. Anthony explains (after turning back into a human) that Batman got in the way of the mission, and Dr Milo arranges a plan to get rid of the caped crusader before trying to deal with anything else. The plan is for Anthony (who is a star-athlete with plenty of money) to announce that he’s doubling up on a donation to a charity if Batman receives the check. We get a little more chatter on this in another scene where Bruce Wayne is shown to be working out with Anthony at the gym. I found this part to be fairly unnecessary, but it was harmless enough. Funny, though, how some of these characters that we’ve never seen before are all of a sudden shown to know Bruce when it’s their episode to become the villain. I like how they handled Two-Face much more, establishing him before the tragic episode. Now knowing about the check, Batman shows up to Anthony’s and is knocked out with gas. Dr Milo takes his utility belt and chains him down in this open area, which is to act like an arena where he will be torn apart by Anthony’s wolf-form (I’d love to know why these criminals always take his belt before taking his mask, by the way). While Batman is still unconscious, we get some exposition on why Anthony is the creature that he is through flashback, and this flashback is a bit confusing. There is a moment where is fakes you out because the flashback Dr. Milo starts narrating, and then it goes back to the present Dr. Milo. This makes it a little harder to follow in one watch, but I think Char and I handled it okay. Anthony’s werewolf origin is okay, but I did find myself questioning a few things. Not necessarily the writers, but the characters. Like, Anthony, why were you so quick to drink that substance which would ultimately transform you? Dr Milo said it hadn’t been tested. It could have immediately killed you. And for what, some gold medals? This puts a bad taste in our mouths over this character because of his willingness to cheat to succeed. He has his face in cereal commercials, being exposed to tons of people around the country and acting as a role-model to many of them, but he’s a filthy, rotten cheater. I also have to question Dr Milo. His plan is insane. Tricking someone to drink a solution that turns them into a werewolf so you can then control them by dangling the antidote in front of their face, getting free work and cash from it? I mean, whatever works for you, but there’s gotta be something a bit more inconspicuous. Throughout this, it’s hard to tell who to cheer for, but I think that at this point, Anthony has learned his lesson. It’s obvious that he finds Dr Milo’s work reprehensible. Dr Milo has absolutely zero redeeming qualities.

Shout out to the director (the show does little Easter eggs like this all the time, keep your eye out!)

Anthony changes into the wolf once the moon comes out (Milo’s scientific explanations never explain how the hell this works) and attacks Milo, throwing him through the wall of the shanty. Damn! Batman, before being attacked, comes to and finds a pin on the ground, using it to pick the locks that are keeping him restrained. I hope Milo provided that on purpose, and for the sake of me liking this episode, that’s what I’m gonna imagine. Otherwise, that is just way too convenient (and allows the writer to dance around Batman actually finding a clever solution). Now free, Batman and Anthony have a fight which moves to a rooftop where they are visible to the Gotham police force, being led by Bullock. It’s a really intense battle, and I couldn’t help but get into it. Oh, I’m aware that this episode is all style and very little substance, but hey, if it works it works. Not every episode needs to make me question morality and life itself. Just give me some dumb action every now and then with an awesome soundtrack and spooky vibes. Unfortunately, the fight comes to a close when Anthony is struck by lightning, and falls into the water below. Pretty stupid way to close out.

Oh, a highlight that I forgot to mention is when Bullock is interrogating the zoo security guard about the missing timberwolves. He pushes the dude right up against the cage, and we can see their jaws snapping, clearly getting agitated by the ruckus. “I want the truth before I decide to feed ya to your furry friends here.” Apparently the term “furry friends” can sound intimidating as hell if it comes with a slick accent like Bullock’s. Not only does Bullock get this moment, but when Batman and Anthony are on top of the roof, Bullock yells at the officers to not fire, and to let Batman handle the situation. This may have been to avoid conflict considering that, well, it’s a scary god damn werewolf which could easily eat all of them if it wanted, but I also like to think that after 40-ish episodes, Bullock develops the tiniest hint of faith in Batman. He’ll probably always be the cocky, sleazy oaf that we’ve known from the start, but it’s nice to see a little bit of development from such an unlikely episode. And that’s not worth nothing.

Oddly, looking back, Batman was never clued in on the entire steroid-situation like we were. I don’t even know if Batman figured out the identity of the werewolf. What an odd feeling. I don’t want to call it an oversight on the writing side of things, but this must be the first time that Batman just didn’t solve the mystery. Huh. Maybe Dr Milo is right, then, and he’ll get away scot-free. Then again, Batman is pretty smart. There are sure to be all kinds of clues lurking within that shanty.

I know I complained a lot, but that’s mostly because the logic was certainly not all there. I don’t grade these episodes based on anything but my enjoyment-level, though, so…

Char’s grade: B

Next time: Day of the Samurai Full episode list here!

#dcau #dc animated universe #moon of the wolf #btas #batman tas #batman the animated series #werewolf #halloween #batman #wolfman

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yensidwinters · 5 years

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Dallas’ Breakdown of the Frozen 2 Trailer

It’s finally here, you guys! After waiting for five and half years, we have a trailer for Frozen 2. And Disney certainly did not disappoint! A lot of things have already started circulating around here, and definitely a lot of points out there to give some thought, but for right now I intend to do a FULL breakdown of the trailer and give the initial thoughts I had when I first watched the trailer, expanding on certain thoughts or points, and including a few things I’ve seen and my take on them. So, get comfortable! This is going to be a lot. I don’t plan to go into TOO much detail with some things, as those will be saved for other later posts!

There is A LOT going on in the introduction/opening scene right off the bat. With Elsa looking out over a storming, raging sea and seemingly completely alone on a shoreline.

Now, I know many people have speculated that this could be her training and pushing herself, but my initial thought was: She’s trying to get somewhere/ to someone. And my thought on that still stands. The shore type is not at all anything we’ve seen in Arendelle. And, while yes, she could be somewhere else to do said training, I don’t believe she’d travel far enough for that sort of change to happen. Not to mention she seems rather ill-prepared for any sort of training, and not planning ahead is typically just not Elsa’s style.

And, seeing as she’s also with no one else on that shore, her goal being to get to someone (possibly Anna) to help them I feel is a more likely scenario. Now, the HOW and the WHY she’s there to begin with, not the slightest idea. Regardless, it’s clear she’s determined as all fuck to get through, and isn’t about to stop until she either gets where she needs to go, or dies trying. Although, even then, Elsa might not accept death as an option in the first place.

But, she’s definitely going through a process of trial and error. When climbing over the waves didn’t work, she went through it. And, when she was encountered a far larger wave, she tried going through it again, only this time with magic. Which, clearly didn’t work out.

I’ve seen a few people commenting on how it seems like her magic is weaker or not at it’s full potential as she could just ‘freeze the whole wave/ocean’. And, as a friend had pointed out to me, no. No, she couldn’t. Not because of a weakening of power, but rather simply a lack of power to go against the raw force of nature. Oceans during storms are insanely powerful, and how ice freezes on running water is FAR different than freezing calmer waters. But, its clear Elsa is sure as hell going to try to anyway.

The clip then cuts to Anna coming out to a balcony, in her nightgown, with...we’re going to call them Ice Floaties until further notice.

They seem to be almost literally everywhere. Outside, at least. And, just judging by the few near Anna, they don’t seem to be incredibly big. I can only guess what they are at this point, but they all seem to hold one of four symbols, which can be seen on the most recently released poster for the film.

My own thoughts were, if they do relate to the theme that seems to be continuing on in this trailer, they are referring to the elements; Air, Water, Earth and Fire. As to which is which, I couldn’t say. But, we’ve already been introduced to the water element from the very beginning, of course, being the storm and the ocean. We’ll touch upon the others as we go. Another small detail I noticed and thought was interesting is they seem to shimmer in a wave pattern, starting from the left side of the screen and moving across to the right side. Not sure if that’s anything important right now, or just the reflection of the moon, but I thought it was worth noting.

Next, of course, we get an awesome shot of Kristoff and Sven at the head of a reindeer herd. A true, valiant, pungent reindeer king. Now, from what we have seen, they do appear to be in whatever valley/new land/etc. the group seems to find themselves in. And, given that both of their expressions seem to be very similar/parallel to their expressions when they were retruning to Arendelle to help Anna at the climax of the first film, I can only imagine they’re again either racing towards something or someone important, or potentially charging towards an adversary. With a whole herd of reindeer to whoop ass.

There isn’t much more to take from this scene, however. The location itself isn’t ENTIRELY clear, and with no other context, it’s hard to take anything else away from it. Other than the fact that Kristoff seems to be sporting some sort of brown fur undershirt.

Once again cutting right on over to Anna! I’ve heard some people state she’s in a cave, but from what I can see here, I believe she might in fact be on a shore as well. The water on the left is far calmer than what we’ve seen, but the texture of the floor seems to be made up of those same rocks that we saw at the beginning. Which, if Elsa IS in fact trying to reach Anna, would make sense for her to be in a similar environment. I’m not sure what she’s currently holding in her hands but my guess would be a book, or perhaps the satchel she has in the next clip. Regardless of what it is, I believe inside it is what potentially could be what started this whole thing. Information, perhaps, they were either looking for or that they had used to bring them here in the first place.

Which brings us to Anna climbing up to a cave. Something I have found interesting at this point, is that with each of these clips, each of the characters have been shown alone. Whether it so happens to just be the shot angles or simply a brief moment where they are alone before another comes in, the fact that they are singled out and seemingly going against things on their own is rather interesting. Were the separated on purpose, or was it more a thing of bad luck that had they end up as they are?

It’s here, though, that I again bring up elements. As we saw with Elsa we had water, and here, we have Anna climbing a mountain, or as one could look at it, overcoming earth. A trail again made of an elemental force. It could be I’m reading too far into this idea, but worth prodding at every possibility. But, again, we have Anna still just as determined as the others to accomplish her task. And, I now also have to wonder the urgency of all that is happening, and what would have prompted this to begin with.

We now turn to yet another example of an element. Although, it’s clear this fire is no regular fire. Not just by it’s bright shade of pink and purple, but from the fact that it completely negates Elsa’s powers. The moment her ice touches that barrier of fire it melts, it evaporates. Which, at that current time and era, could not simply come from any fire. Which has me wonder further if perhaps there are other people who posses the ability to control certain elements. Which, if the themeing is truly a hint to us, is a strong possibility.

Especially when taking this scene into consideration, where air/wind seems to make a direct path to this boy and tosses him up into the air. Not much more to say on that aspect as now all four elements have been shown in one way or another in the trailer, but who the hell are these kids?

Is this a flashback for someone? Are these perhaps kids who are related to, or at least companions to other elementals? Are they perhaps just kids that happen to run into the group during their travelling? WHOMST?! That said, they are definitely kids. If anything, they seem to both be around the age of 14-17, so I don’t believe it’ll be anyone we know, nor will be related to anyone we know.

And then we have this beautiful scene. From their expressions and where they stand, my guess is this is the first time they may be looking over what they have to cross in order to get to whatever destination they’re aiming for. A look of amazement, and perhaps shock from Elsa, and something more of a determined, stoic expression from both Anna and Kristoff. We see Olaf with them here as well, which, given that we’ve only seen him twice in the trailer, there’s a nice question of where the hell is he during everything else? We see him only with Elsa in the fire, and no where else. Did he get taken? Did something else happen to him? Istfg Disney, if you melt this snowman there will be cONSEQUENCES!

Then, of course, we have this ending gem. Again, we don’t see Olaf, and oddly enough we seen nothing of Sven either. Are they perhaps together, then? Those two separate from these three? Or, perhaps are they just trotting up ahead before Anna happens to see...whatever is behind them. I don’t have much more thought on what it could possibly be, though. I know some have thrown around the idea that it could be Hans, but the only thing I could think of if it is him, is that he happened to follow them and is there to ‘offer’ his help. Not that I believe any would be very trusting nor excited for his ‘help’. But, who knows. What Anna is striking out at is as good a guess as anyone’s.

So, there are my overall general thoughts and wonderings on the trailer! As I said, I won’t go too into depth as of now with all points, but I wanted to get my thoughts out. Send an ask or reply, or even a reblog if you’d like to add anything or if I perhaps missed something! Thank you for taking the time to read this monster post, though! Stay lovely, snowflakes. <3

#frozen 2 #frozen 2 trailer breakdown #disney #long post tw

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pixieungerstories · 5 years

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Darkness - 3

violence warnings

In the last two months, Brie had settled into a routine. Weeding early in the morning before it got too hot. The flower beds were looking awesome. Brunch in her cottage around 10 when the sun was at its worst. Followed by nap since she got up around five. Mowing or pruning happened after two in the afternoon. The orchards were looking … better, but if she were honest that wasn’t saying much. They had merely gone from awful to shabby.

She had yet to see any signs of life from the house, although keeping in mind Mr Lynn’s story about the owner, she had respectfully not looked for any. She knew he was watching her, at least some of the time. Any time she did anything near the big tree at the front of the house, she came home to find an email waiting for her. It got to the point where she would let Mr Lynn know what she was planning to do near it and why the day before so she could deal with any objections that came up ahead of time.

Mostly she left it alone.

She had found a stone bench in one of the orchards where she could stop for water or snack breaks. It was surrounded by apple trees and creepy statues, but Brie was mostly able to ignore them.

Artistically, they were very good, the problem was the subject matter. There was a marble angel worthy of any museum, except he was engaged in sexual activities with tentacle monsters. Prometheus and the eagle, traditional enough, but Prometheus had one hell of a stiffy and was arched back over the rock as though he were enjoying the experience, complete with the O face. All the statues human sized and clearly enjoying themselves, it was just that they were engaged in all manner of taboo activities from the three men one high five away from an Eiffel tower to the three ladies engaged in cannibalism of a young man (complete with spilling entrails) as well as a fair amount of beastiality. The bench itself was big enough to be a sarcophagus, but wasn’t a box. It was a marble slab with vines carved into the edge resting on two pillars, which (in keeping with the theme) were a small naked man and woman bent double under the weight of it.

She supposed that when they were carved, they had been incredibly risqué, but these days a quick google search could find you much worse content. In the meantime, she felt it was her job to clear the ivy away. After all, maybe the owner would want to sell them at some point. She was sure there was someone on the internet who would be interested.

Supper was always in the pub. By then she needed some human contact. The pub was a family business, even it was a an odd family, and had the slightly dorky name: A Wing and A Prayer. The barmen were the three oldest brothers, who only ever went by their nicknames as they appeared to be named after turtles, Mike, Gabe and Rafe. The waitstaff was sisters and cousins to the barmen, Dina, Manny, Joe, Tabby and, of course, Charmeine.

Tabby had taken Brie under her wing and was always encouraging her to try new things and consider some community college courses. “C’mon, Gabriela! You need something to fall back on we you don’t want to garden any more.”

Brie would just laugh and shake her head. “I’m saving hard. When I don’t want to garden anymore, I’ll figure out school then.”

But tonight there was no visiting with the staff. The main road in town was getting new tarmac and the pub was full of road crew. Brie was late getting in and all the tables were full. Oh well, she could always sit at the bar. The food was divine, as always, but her enjoyment was rather spoiled by the dust covered asshat sitting next to her. She concentrated on ignoring him. She just finished her dinner and her drink and wanted to leave.

It was full dark out by the time Brie left. She figured she must be really dehydrated because that one beer she had nursed through supper was hitting her hard. She was glad she had brought her bike because there was no way she should be driving.

She was barely out of own when she got off the bike to walk. Her balance was shit. Beer never hit her this hard. By the time she had reached the corner of iron fence marking the edge of the property she was hardly able to walk.

That’s when the truck pulled up.

The loser from the bar got out.

“You almost got away on me.” he laughed. ‘I’m surprised you are still upright.”

And just like that, she wasn’t. She fell down over her bicycle and felt hands dragging her away from it. She was laying on her belly on the dirt road and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. The world was spinning. She felt sick. A boot was wedged under her shoulder and she was flipped onto her back. The moon was full and way too bright. She squinted, the light hurting her eyes.

Someone was undoing her pants. Brie tried to bat the hands away. She was barely able to lift her arms. The man was silhouetted in the headlights of his truck.

Her pants were gone now. He pulled out a pocket knife and flipped it open, slicing down her shirt and through her bra. He pushed her knees up and apart.

Brie was barely able to roll her head to the side. On the other side of the fence the woods were full of eyeshine.

The truck lights went out.

The weight from on top of her was suddenly gone.

Someone was screaming. It wasn’t her. They were screaming a lot. The was a wet splat and the screaming got more desperate. The screaming was replaced by someone pleading stop.

A large, warm, slightly damp and sticky hand cupped her face and turned her to face back at the night sky which swirled overhead like a Van Gogh.

A face appeared in her field of vision.

It was the devil. Big horns, red skin, glowing yellow eyes with wide pupils like a cats. Brie was dimly aware that wasn’t right. She managed a pathetic whimper.

The devil clicked his tongue at her and grinned revealing sharp teeth. He caressed her face, his claws gently pricking at her skin.

Brie shivered and closed her eyes. The last of her clothes were pulled away, then she was lifted on the dirt road and cuddled against a warm chest. The devil began to walk, she felt where he stepped easily over the iron fence. That was wrong. Why was the wrong? No. NO! He shouldn’t be here.

A deep bass voice rumbled, “I am taking you safely home, my lady.” She was pulled tighter against the chest. She could hear a deep slow heart beat.

--------

Mr Lynn arrived at the scene only a little behind the police, but ahead of the ambulance. He got to explain that it was his client that had heard the screaming and called the police. He got to watch the junior constable be sick in the bushes. He tried to ignore the man who had been disemboweled and whose entrails were currently decorating the fence. He was quite surprised by that, the master must be in a generous mood. Given the phone call he had received he hadn’t expect the man to still be alive.

He also got to identify the bicycle and women’s clothing as belonging to the grounds keeper. He accompanied the second police cruiser to the cottage and found Ms Moreno curled up, naked, on her front step. Mr Lynn narrowed his eyes, but the superficial scratches covering her body could have been explained by a naked sprint through the woods.

-----

Brie woke up in a hospital. She knew it was a hospital by the smell. Her head hurt and, after she slammed her hand with the finger heart monitor into her face, so did her eye. Actually everything hurt. Someone hurried over and pried open her eyelid to shine a light in her eye. Rude!

“You wake, pumpkin?” Iggy asked.

“No,” Brie grumbled.

Another voice asked, “Do you know where you are, Ms Moreno?”

Brie shook her head, it was easier than talking just now.

“Do you know what happened?”

Brie tried to concentrate. “I fell off my bike. No… I fell off the ground and my bike fell on me. There was screaming and the devil was there.”

The voices whispered to each other, “She is still drugged, but that might be all you get.”

“That isn’t good enough, we need a description of who did this.”

“Try again in four hours.”

“That’s a long wait, doc.”

“That’s a lot of drugs in her system, officer.”

“She still made it home.”

“You didn’t see how much gravel we picked out of her back. She didn’t make it home on her own. Someone took her home.”

“Right, her knight in shining armour strung up her attacker and brought her safely home.”

“Not entirely. She had been dragged through the woods.”

Brie managed to pry her eyes open, “What happened?”

Iggy opened his mouth to speak but the constable interrupted, “You need to be able to give a statement before we can tell you that.”

“Hurts.”

“We can’t give you any painkillers until the drugs are clear of your system.”

“I don’t take drugs. Hadda beer. One.”

Iggy rubbed her shoulder. That hurt too, “We know, pumpkin, no one thinks you were taking drugs.”

Brie nodded and went back to sleep.

------

Iggy drove her home the next day, after she had given her statement. She felt embarrassed and useless. “The devil did it,” was not a rational thing to say, so she had just left that part out.

The man from the bar had confessed to drugging her. He admitted he was planning a sexual assault. He couldn’t describe the man who had attacked him either. She was going to stay with Iggy and Tessa at least until the stitches came out. The scratches that covered most of her body were already mostly healed, but there was one that was going to scar.

The idea that someone was coming for her was worrying. The police could find no sign of the attacker. Mr Lynn was very supportive. Her anonymous employer was paying her wages until she was able to come back to work and promised her a severance package if she chose not to.

Her employer was very concerned for her well being, she was told.

Her family didn’t want her going back to Morning Side, and the whole week she was waiting for the stitches to come out Iggy lobbied hard for her to quit. The townspeople came to visit, bring flowers and food and assurances that nothing like this had ever happened in their town before.

The thing she didn’t know how to explain was that she wasn’t afraid. She knew she should be, but none of it seemed real. The devil did not come to save her from her rapist. The only logical explanation was that person or persons unknown had come for HIM, wearing halloween masks, and she had gotten away while they were settling whatever score they had with him.

That was the story the police were going with. It was the only rational explanation. Between the drugging and what had to be a halloween mask there was no way for Brie to identify them. The incident was widely publicized, including a bad picture of her from a friend’s facebook page. In the city people looked at her and whispered. If she went back to her cottage, she wouldn’t have people staring at her. She wouldn’t have to see the look on her family's faces every time they saw her.

She hadn’t told anyone she remembered being carried. That made about as much sense as the idea that she was rescued by the devil. But ultimately she knew that if the person who had gone after her attacker had wanted to hurt her, he would have done it. She had been completely at his mercy. And yet, she hadn’t been raped. Or injured that severely. Most of the scratches were superficial and gone without a trace before she even got out of the hospital. The last one was an odd unpleasant shape, but the doctors had assured her that with care the scar would fade and become unnoticeable.

Since who ever it was hadn’t hurt her at the time, she believed that there was no point in him coming back for her later.

There was a peace she had found in the cottage. The quiet. The trees. She missed it. Missed her home. Missed her garden. And it was her garden. She tended it. She never saw anyone else in it. It would be good to have something to keep her busy.

#terato #monster #monster boyfriend

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