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shieldwinter · 3 years

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Stucky Fic Rec [Part Three]

Part Three of the fic rec coming at you! Sorry for it coming so late in the day - I was finishing up reading a fic that I wanted to add to this part! I do only add fics that I’ve read, and enjoyed, to this rec so (once again) there will be few, if any, ABO and Shrinkyclink fics! As always; I will provide the Google Doc link where I update the rec regularly, but if you’d prefer it formatted here on tumblr, it is under the cut! If you want to recommend fics, go for it!

Google Doc Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/10wqr5s-CzkFzLidQgt-y4-cjudHWwVeVPWCedMjK7t0/edit

Don’t Leave Me Asunder

Word Count: 31.1k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Veteran!Bucky, Amputee!Bucky Warnings: None Synopsis: Like many other war veterans, Bucky Barnes is alone. He doesn't talk to his family, he has no friends and his only human interactions are with his cleaning crew from Avengers Tower. Plagued by nightmares and pain, he lives each day in isolation. Until the Avengers bring their fight at home and Bucky gets to meet the famous Captain America. To his surprise, both their lives change forever after that.

Far Strayed

Word Count: 18.3k Rating: Mature Notable Tags: Post CACW, Pre Infinity War Warnings: None Synopsis: “They’re not going to stop coming after me,” Bucky tells Steve, somewhere in the air above Siberia. “Let them come,” Steve replies, furious still. After Siberia, instead of seeking refuge in Wakanda, Bucky and Steve go on the run.

All My Chances Again

Word Count: 20.6k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Time Travel, Endgame Fix-It Warnings: Smut Synopsis: I love him, Steve thinks into the spiraling ether; I love him; let me tell him. Give me the chance to set that one thing right. If I can’t rest for saving him, let me give him all of me and hope that it’s enough. Or; Steve gets lost in the time matrix, and begs for an out. Seems confession is good for the soul—or so he hopes.

I, Barnes

Word Count: 76.7k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Bi!Steve, Bi!Bucky, Period-Typical Homophobia Warnings: Heavy Smut, Talk of Suicide, Non-Consenual Vouyerism, Panic Attacks Synopsis: When Steve finally finds Bucky and brings him home to New York, their reunion doesn't go as planned. Bucky disappears into the bowels of the tower, avoiding Steve at all costs. Bucky believes himself to be broken beyond repair, unworthy of any contact with Steve Rogers. But having finally gotten a taste of being around Steve again, Bucky can't just leave - he needs Steve. In ways he believes prove he's a monster unfit to live.

If Steve Rogers Were Your Boyfriend

Word Count: 70.2k Rating: Mature Notable Tags: Cafe!AU, Barista!Steve, Author!Bucky Warnings: Abusive Relationship (not Steve and Bucky) Synopsis: When he's not editing a magazine he truly loathes or navigating a rocky relationship he truly doesn't deserve, Bucky Barnes writes a fantasy romance column with an unexpectedly loyal internet following about the barista at his favorite cafe. Barista Boyfriend makes these other worlds bearable, but the real world dreamboat isn’t remotely involved; Steve Rogers is just a muse. Everyone loves the column. And it definitely isn’t killing Bucky very gently in 500 word increments, not in the slightest. What kind of a writer can't keep fact and fiction straight? James Fuckin' Barnes, that's who.

Love Me Tender

Word Count: 13.1k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: Canon Divergence Warnings: None Synopsis: Steve is captured by Hydra, who for lack of any other containment options, activate the Winter Soldier and order the man to "take care of Captain America". They really should have been more specific. - OR: Taking care of Captain America is a task that the Soldier's body seems to remember how to do, even if he doesn't understand why.

Falling Back on Forever

Word Count: 24k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Revenge Road Trip, Identity Porn Warnings: Smut Synopsis: Bucky falls from the train in 1945. Steve jumps right after him. The Winter Soldier and the Midnight Patriot are the world's most feared duo, serving HYDRA and leaving a trail of bodies a mile wide behind them. But then they remember.

Wishes and Words

Word Count: 48.2k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Fantasy!AU, Prince!Steve Warnings: Smut, Past Torture Synopsis: Life is going great until the day Bucky Barnes finds Crown Prince Steven Grant bleeding out on his lands. Then it only gets better.

How Bucky Barnes Won His Second Pulitzer

Word Count: 11.6k Rating: General Audience Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Protective Steve Warnings: None Synopsis: It isn’t like him and Steve go out frequently. Sometimes he’ll stop by Bucky’s apartment and they’ll binge watch tv shows, or Steve will tell him stories from ��back in the day’. They’ve only gone out in public two or three times and it was merely quick runs to get coffee, or more popcorn. So Bucky really doesn’t understand where this Hydra asshole is coming from when he says: “The reason we took you is because we know the Captain will come running right into our trap.” (aka: bucky is an award winning journalist who really doesn't appreciate being used as bait for a beefed up, spandex-clad super soldier.)

Maybe This Christmas

Word Count: 24.8k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Christmas Warnings: None Synopsis: Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

6 Avenue Local

Word Count: 10.6k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: No Powers!AU, Veteran!Bucky, Graphic Designer!Steve Warnings: None Synopsis: It takes a moment for Steve to add up the features on the man in front of him: those blue-grey eyes, a cleft chin, high cheekbones. Sure, he's older, dirtier, taller, but there's only one person Steve knew who looked like that. "Bucky?" he asks. "Bucky Barnes?" It's been so long since he's said that name out loud. "Yeah, I..." Bucky pauses. "Oh fuck," he says. "I missed my stop." Steve smiles. “Wanna get a burger?” he asks, noting the happy coincidence that Bucky Barnes, of all the people in New York, fell asleep in the same subway car that Steve would walk into, and missed his stop. “Sure,” Bucky says with a shrug. “I could eat.”

Kingdom Come

Word Count: 8.2k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: Missions Gone Wrong, Angst w/ Happy Ending Warnings: Near Death Experience Synopsis: “It’s too late, Steve,” Bucky’s voice across the comm is flat, layered with static. “The deadlock’s irreversible. S’the only way.” Steve knows what nearly dying feels like; knows it better than most, and this—those words, that voice, this impossible burning that courses through him like the serum in reverse, this. This is so much worse than nearly.

Just Me, You, and These Shitty Cigarettes

Word Count: 39.8k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Modern!AU, Veteran!Bucky, Barista!Bucky, Artist!Steve Warnings: Smut, Dubious Consent Synopsis: Steve Rogers is pretty sure Natasha's new roommate is trying to kill him. Which he wouldn't mind considering he's been helplessly in love with him since they were thirteen.

Where All Roads Lead

Word Count: 46.1k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Time Travel, Historian!Bucky Warnings: Smut Synopsis: When Steve Rogers inadvertently touches a relic in the course of a mission gone sideways during WWII, he’s catapulted seventy years into the future. Before he's even sure where he's ended up, his search for help puts him in contact with Bucky Barnes, a historian and college professor who has built a career around studying Captain America. With Bucky's help, Steve means to find out how exactly he ended up in 2017, and solve the bigger mystery of how to get home. There's just one problem. The closer they get to their goal, the less certain Steve is that he wants to go home.

Énoument

Word Count: 77.9k Rating: Mature Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Meet-Cute Warnings: Smut Synopsis: When Steve first met Sergeant James Barnes during the New York invasion, he flipped Steve off for calling him a civilian, then roundhouse kicked an alien in the face. They haven't stopped talking to each other ever since, and Steve thought it was normal for him to latch onto the first person who befriended him after coming out of the ice. Nope, turns out he was just pining.

Closed Book

Word Count: 38.8k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Amnesia Warnings: Smut Synopsis: Bucky woke up with a headache, a mouth that tasted like something had died in it, and hands-down, swear-to-god, the most beautiful man he had ever seen asleep in his lap. Bucky was also, he realized after a moment, strapped down to a hospital bed with about six different monitors making unsynced, equally piercing, beeps. Beyond that he couldn’t quite see—there was a hideous floral curtain pulled around the bed, and while he could just make out figures moving in the room beyond it, the pattern made his head pound even worse the longer he looked at it. So. That was concerning.

#stucky #stucky fic rec #stucky fic #stevebucky #stevebucky fic #starbucks #wintersheild #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier

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fanfic-scribbles · 6 years

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On the Run: Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen: “What is Love” or “Baby Don’t Hurt Me No More”

Masterlist Here

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Avengers; MCU Captain America

Adventure/Romance – James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes/Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Violence, language, eventual romance, reader character with sassy/abrasive personality

Chapter Summary: You find yourself in a bad way, thanks to your new Hydra pal. He wants to be introduced to Bucky. He should be careful what he wishes for.

Special Chapter Warnings: Reader peril, described torture, violence being visited upon Reader, I don’t know how else to say ‘bad things happen to Reader’

Words: 5954

A/N: I would like to stress that the reader character does not have a super fun time in this chapter and dissociates during periods of torture/interrogation. I was descriptive of it so please take heed; if you need to skip this chapter that is a-okay. Now, that being said…everyone else, please enjoy. Long chapter is long.

Chapter Thirteen: “What is Love” or “Baby Don’t Hurt Me No More”

You are terrified out of your mind, aching from whatever they had injected into you to knock you out, and in pain with a promise of more to come. However, some things just can’t be helped.

Your personality is apparently one of those things.

“Seriously? A dungeon? Do you LARP in your mom’s basement?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” says the wiry looking dork who has brought with him a rolling tray of assorted sharp and blunt objects. Some of them make you want to wet yourself, like the freshly sharpened knives, needles with who-knows-what in them, and a fucking mallet. However, some of them are sort of ‘eh’. Like that old rusted knife that probably can’t hack its way through butter. Ooo, tetanus. So scary. If you were under ten and couldn’t get a booster shot.

Wait, have you had your booster shot? Shit, that might actually be a problem.

But of course, it’s the long, thin, curved knife that the douchebag’s hand hovers over. “I have it on good authority that no, I don’t,” you say and damn it, you're pretty sure he can hear the quiver in your voice. His smile at you confirms it and you look away. Right at Steve, who is strapped down in some kind of tube thing and doing his best concerned face, so you look at the ground instead.

The others are like him too– Sam, Natasha, and even two people you didn’t really expect to be meeting like this: Hawkeye and Iron Man. Most of them are worse for wear and all of them are strapped to gurneys that slant upwards, enclosed in glass covers that you would compare to Snow White’s coffin if these things weren’t filthy with dirt and blood.

It’s hard to avoid looking at everyone when they’re in a half-circle around you. You’re standing, in your underwear, in the center of the room– well, sort of standing. Your wrists are cuffed behind your back and there’s a chain that is wrapped under your arms and shoulders and goes up to the ceiling, while your ankles are chained to the floor to keep you from…wandering, you guess. All that and the most annoying part of this is the grate you’re standing on. The holes are just big enough that if you don’t step carefully your toes get caught in them and that hurts like a bitch and a half when you don’t notice and try to move too fast.

On the plus side, you’re not in an enclosed tube. On the minus side, you’re pretty sure you’re going to be the lesson for everyone who is.

The DM grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. “Focus, sweetheart. I doubt you want to be here all day.”

Your blood rushes at the nickname. “I’m not your ‘sweetheart’, you sack of shit.”

“No, not mine,” he says, looking no less delighted. He purrs your name and you stare at him head on. You’re a woman in the world. If he wants to be the creepiest man you’ve ever met, he’s got some work ahead of him.

Unfortunately he seems to be up for the job, by how he leans in. “That is your name, right?”

“Ugh.” Your nose crinkles at the smell of…an everything bagel? Whatever it is, it does his breath no favors. “Can you breathe somewhere else? I don’t need to know what you had for breakfast. Also, why the rush? You can go brush your teeth; I’ll wait.”

He hits you so fast it stuns you. Your jaw aches and you blink away the stars and immediate pain. Still, at least it’s not a knife. You look at him, playing as cool as you can.

“We have to start slow,” he says and pulls back. “I don’t want to break you before I get my information.” Before you can ask what information you, the creaky fourth wheel on this hellish road trip, can possibly have to offer him, he starts pulling on a smock. “My name is Richard, by the way. I can tell we’re going to be here a while.”

You roll your eyes. Dick. Well, it’s appropriate. “Buddy, I don��t even know what I had for dinner last night. I don’t know what information you’re hoping to get when you probably have more of it than I do.”

“How about that chit chat you had with your boyfriend?” Dick leans in close again. “Hm?”

Well. Shit. Although you didn’t actually find out anything, other than you’d meet up in New York, which is a relief. Not that you’re planning on telling him that, but you figure the less you know, the better.

Dick punches you in the stomach. You gag and try to double over at the force of it. Try, because the chains keep you up enough and don’t give much slack for your effort to preserve those pesky things you like to call ‘internal organs’. You suck in a breath before Dick grabs your hair and yanks your head up. “Where is the Soldier heading?”

“There are a lot of soldiers in this world,” you wheeze. “Though I don’t think I know anybody on active duty.” You think of making a joke about Steve or Sam but ultimately quash it in case you draw Dick’s attention to them. They can probably take a hell of a lot more than you can, but the thought of anyone else being in this position because of you hurts your stomach more than that punch did.

Mother fucking conscience. The second science comes up with a way to surgically remove it you’re going to be first on the sign-up sheet. That thing is nothing but trouble.

Dick punches you harder, making you gasp and pant for air. “You know who I mean,” he says, still creepily level, like nothing about this bothers him at all. Mother fucking Nazis. If you surgically remove your conscience, can you give it away? They need it more than you do, you swear. “Where is the Asset?”

You take a few extra seconds to catch your breath. “You try putting your missing friend on a milk carton?”

Dick backhands you across the face right where he had punched you, only this feels impossibly harder, making you really see stars as a headache begins to swell. You can’t help the way your eyes tear up but you clench your jaw– ow, okay, bad idea. Still, you don’t cry out and that’s something.

“Where is your boyfriend?”

You spit out a little blood. “I don’t have one.” And a tooth. Oy vey; what a mess. “And, uh, if you’re looking to fill the position– buddy, you are going about it the wrong way.”

He presses his lips together into a tight, grim smile, and you weather the hits as they come the best you can. He keeps asking you the same question, ‘where, where, where,’ but you don’t even tell him that you don’t know. Avoiding the topic all together seems safest. As does denying all possible hints of whatever you and Bucky are to each other. You haven’t even gotten a chance to talk about it with Bucky; no way in hell are you talking it out with Dick. He is officially banned from Girls’ Night.

Thankfully, his hitting and occasional kicking is something you can mostly bear. Seriously, high school bullies are more inventive than this shit stain. You kind of sort of really hope it stays that way.

“All right,” Dick says, walking away and sounding as calm as if he hasn’t just been using you as a punching bag. The pain isn’t as bad as you might have thought. Less sharp, more of a constant ache all over, but you’re panting like you’ve gone a few rounds yourself. Fuck, does this make you Rocky? And is it hilarious or awful to cast the wiry white Nazi as Apollo? You’re gonna go with ‘awful’.

Dick comes back. Holding a tape player.

A tape player. Hydra, feared terrorists, ruthless assassins, and government infiltrators, are using fucking cassettes.

God, if Dick plays you his Excellent Eighties mix you’re going to throw yourself on his torture tray and hope something on there hits a vital organ.

“Please, no Air Supply, anything but that,” you say with as much drama as you can muster. It isn’t. Much, that is. You’re a little woozy.

Dick hits play. The tape is scratchy, but you can make it out just fine.

“Wanna tell us who your girlfriend is?” a raspy, strained voice asks. The person sounds pained to a point you can really relate with right now, honestly.

“No,” says your favorite deadly trash vermin. His voice lowers to a register and tone that, frankly, you don’t ever want to hear aimed in your direction. “And you’re going to regret ever finding out about her.”

Dick stops the playback and does an exaggerated shrug.

That’s…huh.

“But the important question is: did he post it on Facebook?” You ‘tsk’ even as that recording plays back in your head. And again. “Not official unless it’s up on the wall.”

Dick hits you again, and again, and again. You take it as well as you can but you’re still left dizzy and barely able to see, between the double-vision and the tears. He stops you from swaying and the weight of his hands on your shoulders makes you tremble. What is he going to do now? “This is your last chance before we get started,” he says, lowly. It’s pretty piss poor compared to Bucky’s looming voice, but Bucky isn’t here. This guy is. “Tell me what you and the Asset spoke about and I will show you mercy.”

Your stomach sinks. You think about feeding him some lies but he’d probably figure it out and then you’d be in even worse shape. Did Bucky even tell you anything of note? You’re pretty sure Dick doesn’t care about your shared emotional immaturity and Bucky only mentioned that everybody was supposed to be heading home. That he would be too. You almost tell Dick that– that Bucky’s going home where he’ll be safe and far the hell away from any Hydra douchebag who wants him– but would that give them a lead, an edge that they could use to hurt him? Is that something Bucky doesn’t want them to know? It’s best to keep quiet, in this case.

Dick pulls up his knife and holds it in front of your eyes. “Going once, going twice…”

You glare at him. “Going go fuck yourself.” You immediately try to brace yourself for the fallout but Dick doesn’t hit you. He does something worse.

He smiles.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he says and presses sharp steel into your flesh.

It’s a weird night. Bucky is silent, in one of his moods, and you’ve had a shit week so you’re not exactly Little Miss Extrovert yourself. Still, you’re going ahead with your plans to make a ‘decent’ dinner by foisting all the work on the guy who had the audacity to complain about the food you buy. Now maybe he’ll appreciate why you go for easy, oven-heated meals.

But as you walk out of your room after changing into something comfier, you find him standing completely still at the counter. As you move around him you see all of the potatoes have been peeled but only one has been chopped up, and another is gripped loosely in his left hand while he stares hard at the giant knife he holds in the other.

Great. This is totally reassuring. “Bucky?” you ask. He doesn’t budge an inch. Yep, totally great to have a former assassin holding a knife and probably having an episode. You take a small step forward, because nobody has ever accused you of being too smart and sensible for your own good. Bucky tells you the opposite whenever he can, in fact. “Bucky, seriously, if you want to check out your hair go use the mirror like a semi-normal person.”

He still shows no sign of life. It’s times like these you wish there was a manual– ‘How to Take Care of Your Formerly-Brainwashed Super Assassin.’ Granted, he’s not ‘yours,’ but he spends enough time at your house that you feel like you have to take partial ownership. Times like these you don’t really want to, but he’s still staring at the knife and you just hope he won't stick it in your brain. “Hey, Trash Panda!”

He flinches and turns his head to look at you with wide eyes. You find yourself a little helpless in the face of such blatant fear, but he schools himself back to his usual aloofness quick enough for it to be just a little blip. Thankfully. You are not good at feelings, though you sometimes try to make an effort at it.

“Geeze, we’re never gonna eat at this rate.” Your version of ‘try’ doesn’t mean you always succeed, but in this case you do get the knife away from him so you can start chopping the potatoes into mostly-okay pieces. Mostly. Bucky observes you quietly for a few moments as you struggle to keep the fucking food equivalent of a bar of soap in your hand without chopping your fingers off.

“That looks painful,” he murmurs.

“I haven’t cut myself,” you say. Yet.

“I meant for the potato.”

You give him the meanest look you can muster but he just looks smug which is totally unfair but even you won't joke about whatever dark place he just visited. So you punch him. Unfortunately, Bucky has turned and your aim is shit, so your knuckles collide with metal. Not terribly hard, but hard enough to cause a little pain, and hard enough to make you drop the knife in surprise, which you fumble to catch like the dumbass you are.

“Ow! Ow!” you whine to both hands, one aching, the other stinging. Bucky pushes you over to the sink to start rinsing the blood off and he quickly holds a kitchen towel to the cut. He’s shaking and for a moment you’re afraid the blood has triggered a bad memory, but when you look at him he’s silently ‘laughing’.

He’s laughing.

“You asshole!” You use your not-cut hand to punch his not-metal shoulder. Even on flesh it doesn’t go much better for you.

“Go sit down,” he chuckles as he bandages you up. “And try not to bludgeon yourself on the coffee table on the way, yeah?”

You’re set to argue out of sheer stubbornness but both of your hands are out of commission and at this rate you’re going to “Final Destination” your way into a truly ignominious death. A strategic retreat from kitchen hell might be in order. “I hate you,” you grumble and shuffle away.

Bucky ruffles your hair and flashes you a genuine smile you haven’t seen on his face before. “No you don’t.”

Dick makes a small but deep cut in your neck that makes you gasp for how much blood flows out. It’s not technically as bad as some of the others he’s carved into you– that one on your leg is tough to look at– but going out via slit throat seems like a real bad time to you.

But Dick is there, with a cloth and, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’d never let you bleed out so soon. We’re just getting started. Unless you want to cooperate and tell me where the Soldier– where your Sergeant Barnes is heading?”

The way he sneers, like Bucky doesn’t deserve a goddamn name, makes Rational Thought and Reasonable Discourse take a backseat. Right into the trunk. “Cancun. He needs a nice beach vacation.”

Dick slaps you. You give a half-hearted shrug. As much as you can while strung up, anyway. “Yeah, I told him the Bahamas look much nicer, but what can you do?”

He puts his fingers over a gash he made in your shoulder and pushes them in. You scream but he doesn’t stop and for seconds that feel like minutes that feel like hours you can only think I won't give him up I won't give him up I won't I won't I won–

But why? Why won't you? Not that you’ve ever made a habit of selling out people you care about, but you hate pain and you always figured you’d crack like an egg if anybody ever threatened you with so much as a papercut. The question is worth examining if only to find out why your sanity and self-preservation have left the building.

The answer comes in a flash of pain and isn’t that just the most appropriate thing ever? You actually laugh. Dick grabs a handful of your hair and yanks your head back. “What’s so funny?”

“Hell of a time to have a revelation,” you mumble, still chuckling. It’s sort of funny. You had assumed you care so much about Bucky because you can maybe, some day, sort of, perhaps, in the future, possibly, eventually, kind of come to love that insufferable asshole.

You hadn’t really stopped to consider that you’re already there.

Stupid fucking trash panda. But then what does that make you? Ugh. Best not to think about it right now.

Ice cold water is dumped over you and you yell out in surprise. Dick’s mom’s basement is already chilly but the arctic shower you just took is so cold that your body isn’t shivering so much as it’s spasming.

“Don’t worry,” Dick says, going through a toolbox he’s pulled up. “I’ll find something to warm you up.”

It’s hot and miserable. You’ve been trying to sleep for hours, but the night is relentless and you decide to stop sweating through your sheets for a few minutes.

You get to the living room and jump about five feet. Wow, okay, Bucky’s home apparently. “I thought you said you weren’t a robot,” you say as you approach him. He continues to stare blankly at the window. Out of the window? No, definitely just at. Shit, but that expression is too familiar to be good. Still, you stand next to him. “But normal humans don’t sleep like that.”

He blinks. “What?” he asks.

“Where’s your head at?” you ask back.

He presses the hot poker against your collarbone and you scream. It’s harder to tune this out when the cuts simultaneously burn. You’re starting to sweat.

“I told you I’d warm you up,” Dick says and pushes your head to one side, leaving a broad expanse of your neck wide open.

Bucky shakes his head. “Nowhere good,” he mumbles. His throat pulses with a swallow. “I shoulda stayed gone. It’s too fuckin’ hot.”

“Man, you’re tellin’ me.” you fan yourself. “I didn’t know you got back already. You’re lucky I’m wearing clothes.”

“I don’t know if I’d call that ‘lucky,’ doll.”

You choke on air. “Well, Mr. Barnes, I do declare!” you manage to say as he chuckles. It gets quiet again and Bucky looks a little less unnerved, but still not quite relaxed. He’s still…

“What?” he asks you.

There’s no nice way for you to ask this question. So maybe you shouldn’t. But he’s staring at you and ugh, you might as well just ask and deal with the fallout. “Does your head ever go anywhere good?” you say and lean against the couch arm. “You remember stuff before Hydra…is any of it good?”

He looks thoughtful, not angry, so that’s something. “Sometimes.” He squints, like there’s something only he can see in the distance. His lips quirk into a slight smile. “Cool bottles, hot night. Steve laughing about something.”

From the way the smile molds to his face you assume there’s more to that than he’s saying, but that’s okay. He looks content so you go to the kitchen and turn the faucet on, letting it run until it’s cold while you grab a few things.

When you return to the living room it’s with two wet, cold dishtowels and fresh-out-of-the-fridge beer bottles. You’re already wearing your towel and when you drape the other one around the back of Bucky’s neck he lets out a satisfying little groan.

You plop down next to him. “Sounds nice, but it must have been hard not to actually get your drink while it was cold.” But as you hold the sweating bottle to your cheek, you can see the appeal.

Bucky grunts his agreement and holds up his frosty beverage. You hit yours to it and you both take long pulls, and settle in to suffer together.

Dick drags the hot point down your back and you scream and try to pull away but he holds you steady. Your blood feels like fire, molten streaming down your back. He says “hm” in a pleased tone of voice, like his little lightsaber fantasy has been satisfied. Fucking thank god, though, he walks back around to your front and puts the poker down.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” Dick says, pulling off his torture-approved oven mitts. “You’ve lasted almost six hours already.”

How is it possibly still the same day? You want to ask but all you can do is drool.

“What’s wrong? No smart comments?”

You roll your eyes and pull up some energy by the sheer power of your assholery. “Buddy…if I was…a…vegetable…I’d still be…smarter than…you.” You breathe deep and force yourself to stand upright. “No comments needed.”

Dick grins. “I’m glad to see you haven’t broken yet.” He smooths your hair back. “I’ll let you rest up a bit and we’ll pick this up later.”

You’re spent so you can’t even pretend to fight back when he has two of his buddies come in and unhook you. Everything is stiff and doesn’t want to move and you almost wish they weren’t taking you down. Almost. Though it’s not much better when they stick you in the most uncomfortable chair you’ve experienced outside of a Pier One or Ikea and strap you down.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed until you’re getting doused with cold water yet again and Dick says, “Rise and shine, sweetheart!”

“Buddy, words cannot express just how much I am not here for your “Flashdance” fetish,” you stammer through chattering teeth.

“It sounds like you had a nice nap,” Dick says and pulls up a chair. “I’m glad. Are you ready to chat, yet? If not, we can get started right away.”

This guy is such a tool. “What part of ‘fuck off’ confuses you?”

He holds his heart– or at least, the space where it should be– and mocks a sad expression. “Sweetheart, I thought we were friends. You keep calling me ‘buddy’.”

“You’re right, so sorry. It’s ‘Dick’, right?”

“Richard, actually.”

“Pretty sure that’s what I just said.”

He grips your thigh and digs his thumbnail into the long, jagged cut, dragging his thumb down and through, splitting the wound and making it bleed once more.

You don’t scream but you choke and gasp and hiss, “Son of a bitch!”

“I like that one. We’ll keep it open,” he murmurs. He smiles bigger and says, normally, “I prefer ‘buddy’.”

“Too bad, Dick.” Seriously, what does he take you for. Wait, it’s probably better not to know. “Though if you stop with the stupid nickname you have for me, I’ll consider dropping the one I have for you.” Unlikely to actually happen, but it seems charitable to at least offer to think about it. You’re nice like that.

“What, ‘sweetheart’? But you are one.” He leans closer. “Will you be my sweetheart?”

Your face almost twists right off your body, you’re so grossed out by the idea. “Ohhhh, ugghhhhh. Man, I’d rather sit through a six-hour lecture on safe sex as given by Captain America.” Actually, when you think about it, that sounds kind of hilarious. “Or I’d rather–” have Dick cut out your ‘sweet’ (gross) ‘heart’ out with the tetanus knife.

“You’d rather…” Dick prompts.

“Eh, I’m not gonna say it because you might actually do it.” Sick bastard.

“If it hurts, then it’s likely.” Dick smiles again and pats your cheek. The touch is light but it still makes you flinch. “It’s all right, I understand. You’re taken.”

You're not getting into that again, so you keep quiet. Dick stands up, looks at the ground, and nods his approval before going to the corner of the room to get something. You glance at the floor but it’s just the same old grate underneath you and flat floor everywhere else. Nothing special.

He rolls over a weird looking box-thing, with dials and switches all over the top and a bundle of wires piled on top. “I’m very excited to share this with you,” he says and starts untangling the wires, pausing to show you two circular pads. “It’s not the exact unit, but this treatment was your boyfriend’s favorite.”

You stare at them for a moment, until it hits you.

You’ve never killed anyone in your life, but if you had to kill him, you’d do it right now without hesitation, and you know it wouldn’t keep you up at night.

“Oh!” Dick laughs. That fucking monster laughs. “He told you about this.”

Not in so many words, which makes it worse. You’re not comfortable with this asshole knowing that, though, so you play it off with a little shrug. “Or I saw it on the news or in an interview or something. There was a lot about the Winter Soldier.” You look him right in the eyes. “Especially when he started kicking you guys right in the teeth.”

Dick smiles patiently and holds the pads up. God, is this how they looked when they hooked Bucky up? Did they smile, laugh, joke when they did this to him? You had a TENS unit, once. The day Bucky had seen you put it on your shoulders– well, it was the one time you had feared Bucky. Feared and been so sad for him. That expression on his face was not, is not, one you ever, ever want to see again.

Something that can hurt Bucky like that absolutely terrifies you. Is it just torture? Or will they do to you what they did to him? Will they strip you down and make you forget?

Also, fuck your life where you can think of anything as ‘just torture’.

As Dick is about to stick those wires to you, a door swings open in the distance. Somewhere over…fuck, you can’t even pretend to know. Or care. But some other guy calls out something in not-English and Dick responds likewise, and they converse for a few moments.

Dick sighs and puts down the wiring, and as much as you don’t want him to know how scared you are, you can’t help how your whole body sags with relief. “I have to go report in, but I’ll be right back,” he says and leaves.

You tug at chains and straps but they don’t get any looser and you certainly haven’t gotten any stronger in the past five minutes. Still, it seems better than sitting and waiting for Farquad to mosey on back.

You haven’t checked on the others yet– you’ve periodically forgotten that they’re there– and you still don’t want to. If they’re alive then they’ve been watching you get worked over and you’re not a fan of however they’re going to look at you. You don’t know how much they’ve heard but there have to get air in there somehow.

Unless they’re all dead…

Fuck it. You do a quick scan to make sure everyone’s alive and you ignore Steve’s attempt to keep your attention. Whatever he needs you to do, you don’t think you’re capable, and doesn’t that just suck. If Natasha and you were switched she probably would have snapped Dick’s neck by now. You’d be out of here, not getting–

Gunshots sound on the level above you and your heart leaps into your throat. You pull on the restraints– again, not any looser, but the thought of being trapped in the open while guns are going off is terrifying.

The door slams open and Dick runs in, blood on his face and looking alarmed. Well, that’s a sight. You don’t really get to enjoy it though; he scrambles behind you, grabs your chin and pins your head to his stomach as he presses his gun to your temple. And then you…wait.

Not for long, though. You didn’t hear anyone follow Dick down but there Bucky is, sliding out of the shadows like a ghost rematerializing. You’re speechless in the presence of him. He’s standing tall, suited up in all black, and already wearing what you assume is his best murder face. But then he looks around at his friends, trapped, and then at you, and if you were Dick you’d wet yourself at the look Bucky is giving him.

Then again, if you were Dick, you would have made very different life choices leading up to now, so, to each their own and all that.

“Put the gun down,” Bucky says, while wielding his own. At Dick. Who is right behind you.

Bucky’s murder face is suddenly way, way, way less attractive.

“No, that’s not how this is going to work.” Dick presses the gun even closer. “Stand down, Soldier.”

Bucky stares at him. This really, really sucks, but all you can do is hope it’s quick and…and…

Bucky unloads the ammo from the gun, letting it fall to the floor before he tosses the gun itself far away from him. But Dick doesn’t let up on you. “All of your weapons, Soldier. I’m not stupid.”

“That’s debatable,” you mutter as Bucky rolls his eyes. Well, at least you’re in agreement on that. But Bucky starts removing weapons from his person– knives, guns, holy hell are those bombs, clips, rounds, and things you’re glad you can’t identify. At the rate the pile of death is growing, you have to consider your trash panda is really more of a murder squirrel. The last thing Bucky throws on the pile is a knife smaller than the two Bowies already buried and it’s all so ridiculous you almost laugh. Almost, because Dick still has a gun to your head and that is not conducive to hilarity.

“Upstairs is almost cleared out,” Bucky says. “You should either try to kill me now or surrender already. You’re not walking out of here.”

“Well…not alone,” Dick says. He says a word in Russian that makes Bucky go stiff and wide-eyed. Dick says another and Bucky jerks, like he’s going for one of his weapons, but then Dick smashes your head with the gun and Bucky stops at your cry of pain.

You’re a little woozy but then Dick says another word and finally, finally you get it. And swallow your heart. “Bucky– no!” you shout over the next word, hoping Bucky will just fucking run or something, but he doesn’t, he stays where he is, why is he still standing there?! Dick grabs your head by your mouth and the silence is punctuated with the last few words.

Bucky goes slack– not falling, but he’s no longer so tense. His expression goes flat, and his eyes–

–you can’t look at them for more than a second. There’s nothing of him in there. No Bucky, no Trash Panda, no person.

The Winter Soldier speaks in Russian and you want to wake up now. Because this– this can’t be happening. Bucky can’t drop his weapons because of you. Bucky can’t be forced to listen to those words because of you.

Bucky can’t be lost because of you.

Dick takes the gun away from your head. You don’t feel any safer for it. “How many did you bring with you, Soldier?” he asks, breathing easier. You hate him with every part of your fucking salty soul.

“Twelve.”

Dick practically hisses. “Damn,” he says and walks around. You assume he’s looking at the others but you can’t stop looking at–…at Bucky. At where Bucky was. Still is. You feel dizzy. Passing out would be real nice right now.

“We have no time to take care of the rest. Shame. But…” Dick goes to stand next to Bucky. He puts his gun in Bucky’s hand.

“Let’s make sure you never want to come out of being the weapon you were always meant to be,” Dick says. “Kill her.”

Bucky takes aim and you can only stare dumbly at them. At Dick, smirking, and at Bucky, so cold and distant. Bucky never talked about what Steve did to snap him out of it. He only said that Steve had almost died because of it. And you don’t have that history. You don’t have that innate level of friendship and love. You have less than a year of memories, some good, some bad, and a lot of ‘maybe’s that could have been.

The shot rings out, and you wonder why you don’t feel any pain.

Until Dick crumples to the ground.

Bucky drops his hand, still holding the gun. “Moron,” he sneers at the body and then looks at you, back to his resting murder face and with life back in his eyes.

You…

You breathe.

Deeply.

Bucky is going to regret not shooting you because you are going to murder the FUCK out of him.

You keep the growing well of rage and upset down while he, with some effort, rips the lid off Natasha’s tube, unstraps her, and snaps something in Russian that has her running to Dick’s body. You even hold it together when Bucky puts his hands on you and braces you while he rips at straps and chains like they’re Silly Putty.

It’s when he’s helping you up and you start to fall, only for him to catch you by wrapping his arms around you, that you lose it. “You– you fucking jerk! You bastard!” You hit him. Not hard; you aren’t capable of it and you don’t really want to hurt hurt him, not really, but– “You asshole you scared the shit out of me!”

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair and, shit, he looks really good. Full-bodied and healthy, like he’s eating enough, and his hair is all soft, and is this some sort of weird halo effect from him saving you? Would you be eyeing Steve this much if he had shot the guy?

Ugh. That’s a gross thought.

“It was necessary.” Bucky is half carrying you because your body is in a state of ‘just don’t wanna’ that you feel you can’t be blamed for. “It’s good that you believed it, because he had to.”

It makes sense. It worked. Still. “You’re the fucking worst,” you mumble and lean into him, intending to rest your eyes for just a second. “Officially my least favorite trash panda. Even under that bastard that left a torn up garbage bag in the middle of the sidewalk.”

He chuckles. “I missed you too,” he says with a warmth that you’re convinced you’re imagining. Heroic rescue is a hell of a drug.

“No you didn’t.” Tears slip down your cheeks. “You weren’t ever going to come back. You would have stayed gone forever.”

He sighs. “It was better. Safer.”

After the past couple of days– actually, the past week plus, you have an itemized list on just how much bullshit that is. You can give a lecture on it, even without updating it to include right now. Luckily for him, exhaustion pulls you out of consciousness before you can start your presentation, but he is gonna fucking get it later.

Maybe you’ll make a PowerPoint.

User Tag List: @gravity-9-8 @grey-stardancer @asslikegilinsky @howdoesoneadult @projectxhappiness @jadepc @fandomlover03

#bucky x reader #avengers reader insert #avengers fanfic #james bucky barnes #reader insert #on the run #torture

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attract-mode-collective · 6 years

Video

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Exactly 79 Photos & Videos Concerning The Game Boy (plus other handhelds)

So... hope you’ve all been following me on Twitter, which is more or less the unofficial new home for Attract Mode. Mostly cuz Tumblr’s days are, alas, numbers, plus I haven’t warmed up to Medium as much as I had hoped to. Though I’ve actually spent the past two months republishing every single post that contains mainline Game Culture Snapshots, so it has remained somewhat useful at least.

Now, for a while there, I had been compiling every single thing tweeted. But because I’m now so damn active on that end… plus I’m busier than ever with other projects… I’m way behind with those digest posts, and the very idea of playing catch up legit gives me anxiety. Yet I have been sharing lots of cool things, which all deserve to be in the blog proper… and because a lot of them are specific to the Game Boy, I figure, why not just focus on that?

Like the above, which is a technique for producing full color photographs via the Game Boy Camera, and yet another thing that I can’t believe hasn’t made the rounds!

Sticking with Game Boy photography, here have a pair of mods that will greatly enhance picture quality. The first involves mounting SLR lens onto a Game Boy Camera (via ekeler.com)...

And the second has one shoving a Game Boy Camera into a SLR itself (via @MaxKriegerVG)...

As someone who was into video games as a kid, and also interested in photography, the Game Boy Camera was the first camera I was able to call my own. Am pretty sure this was the case for others as well?

I also remember seeing this ad in Nickelodeon Magazine (which I would eventually writer for, not too long later) and being absolutely gob smacked (via nintendroid.org)…

Though as much I loved Nintendo brand of FUNtography, I would quickly discover… as did everyone else I also assume… that taking pictures is serious business (via @PolandNintendo)…

Not only did I have a Game Boy Color, but I also had the Game Boy Printer (I still own both, for the record). Unfortunately my snapshots from Link’s Awakening have long since faded, but as with many things, you can find copies online (via gameandgraphics.com)…

Speaking of the world of print, coming soon is a handy guide to Nintendo handy game machine (via miki800.com)…

That one magazine ad featuring Princess Peach catch your eye as well? Well here’s a much better look at it (via suppermariobroth)…

I love handheld gadgets of all kinds, yet some of the popular ones confuse me. Like Hudson’s Shooting Watch; it makes no sense to have a gadget that can detect button presses without a game attached. Guess I’m not alone (via instagram.com/kazzycom)…

A realization I made while sifting through Game Boy related content is how popular the color yellow is with many. Cuz Pokemon? Anyhow, the final post from a blog that specializes in gorgeous photographs of gorgeous hardware, which I just brought up again very recently (via hard-aware)…

How your parents used to trade Pokemans online (via melonjaywalk)…

And no, Game Boys weren't the only things that one could connect to keitais ya know. And yes, Game Boys aren’t the only portables I’ll be showcasing (via anthony10000000)…

I own quite a few VMUs and am always looking to expand my collection… but nothing yellow, sorry. Instead, I want the one covered with dolphins (via anthony10000000)…

So my new favorites artist is Eri Kitamura, and not just cuz she makes pretty looking Game Boys…

She also makes pretty looking girls playing Game Boys (well, this one is technically listening to music)…

Was originally going to post the first thing from Eri that caught my eye, which is a Game Boy with a girl on it, but instead here’s a Game Boy with a girl on it playing a Game Boy…

Time for two more videos from the same individual responsible with the process for producing color photographs at the very top. And it’s what everyone has been waiting… specifically the backlit Game Boy Color mod everyone has been waiting for.

The process is detailed in this two-part video, and here’s the first one (it’s about 50 minutes long cuz spoilers: this shit ain’t easy)…

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And here’s part two, which is ONLY 40-ish minutes long…

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The author of the videos actually has a store, so if the process seems a bit too daunting, you can purchase a pre-modded unit for $250. Actually, this one is $260, cuz of the dual shells. Quite the price tag, yet somehow totally worth it (via instagram.com/esotericmods)…

Now might be a good time to mention how… remember that GBA with the GameCube finish from eBay a few months back? Well, I decided to get the one that resembles a Super Famicom, something I’ve been lusting over for years.

Well, here’s what the aforementioned seller had in his listing…

And this is what I got instead…

Yeah, that green shoulder button is not the right shade. After some complaining, I got the seller to admit that the one in the picture was hand painted; he didn’t know where it get ones that it’s exact color as on a Super Fami controller.

He also had a no refund policy, yet I bitched & moaned enough to warrant an exchange, for another Cube-esque model, one sans the stick. Cuz it’s comparatively boring to look at, here’s a version with the stick…

Again, mine just has the standard d-pad. As for my replacement… the colors of the A & B buttons are not an exact match, once again. But it’s close enough (am mostly just sick of dealing with that guy, aka johnnys_merchandise, whom you should all avoid btw), plus I have started to scour AliExpress for replacements.

BTW, my failure to obtain a modded handheld that channels another form of hardware has me wondering if I should go for something completely different instead (via instagram.com/wakuwakuisland)…

Up in the mountains, flower bloom amongst Game Boys & Game Boy Colors, whereas deep in the forest, you’ll find mushrooms and Game Boy Advances (via pxchinko)…

Some say memories are fuzzy, though for others, they're leafy (via lyosphe)…

I’ve looked all over for tinycartridge's original post, but no luck, so you can all instead have my personal copy of the earthy wallpaper that was shared years ago (and which I still to this very day)...

The Game Boy Micro, DS, and DS Lite are like family, and like siblings, there can the occasional squabble (via benkyo-es)…

@frankcifaldi: When I met this guy in 2003 and he told me he was going to make an extensive fan site about the Supervision, a Taiwanese Game Boy knockoff, I was like "sure dude." 15 years later he actually launched the thing??

Meanwhile, the Game & Watch Perfect Catalogue just came out, with the full low down on all 59 models. BTW, had no idea there were 59 in total until @ionadisco mentioned it…

How Game & Watches were sold in America; I fondly recalls this ad in-between the pages of Amazing/Spectacular/Web of Spider-Man (via suppermariobroth)…

And how Game Boys were sold in Japan, one day one apparently, which would explain this salesperson’s rather perplexed demeanor (via flashbak.com)…

Silly as it sounds, and as silly as he looks, the US version of Firebrand is nonetheless a warm & welcoming face from my childhood (via nintendometro)...

Mario dropping a knowledge bomb (via suppermariobroth)…

Here’s Peach seemingly kicking Toad’s ass in Super Mario Bros Deluxe, which I’ve been meaning to tweet for a while now, but now seems like the right time & place for obvious reasons (via nintendometro)…

A cute comic about someone finally beating a game after ten years, or at least I believe that's the case (you know, language barrier and all; via @desune593)

Sailor Moon seems to enjoy handheld gaming more so than in the arcades (via uglygreenjacket)…

It saddens me that ravages of time is robbing me of my precious memories, including the names of 90s anime, hence why I had to ask on Twitter who exactly is this (answer was Tenchi Muyo; via shxtfased)...

It’s SethEverman, just playing some pokemon blue…

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Speaking of music, it again saddens me that I wasn’t about to make the trip to Japan to catch chiptunes at Square Sounds, and various associated venues. At least @bit_shifter_ took this great snapshot of Glomag at Cyberpunks Osaka…

Meanwhile, here in NYC, we actually still have record stores. And you can grab Josh’s latest release, his first in 12 years(!) at Rough Trade (via bit-shifter)…

Though back to Japan; attended Square Sounds would have also afforded me the chance to check out Tokyo Game Show, where I could have gotten that VMU shaped USB drive that was being sold at the Sega booth (via miki800)…

A few weeks before TGS, there was an earthquake in Japan, in northern island Hokkaido. Many were left without power, but one person was able to keep up with the news, thanks to an old DS peripheral that basically provides bunny ears (via kotaku.com)…

On a semi-related note, here’s someone watching old ECW VHS tapes on their Game Gear (via heavyelectricity)…

Sorry, but the only other thing I have that’s related to Sega’s Master System on the go is this gif from a pizza ranch salad dressing (yikes) commercial, which was cross-promoting Sonic Chaos (via sonicthehedgeblog)...

I have no idea why I'm so amused by this Getty Image of a Neo Geo Pocket that was confiscated at summer camp. Or perhaps no explanation is needed? (via hellomrkearns)…

Speaking of the Great Outdoors, here’s my buddy Steve enjoying some Mario Kart 8 in the middle of a forest (via instagram.com/vitaminsteve)…

And speaking of Mario Kart on the Switch, Bowser seems like a pretty cool dood to have a car trip (via suppermariobroth)…

The Switch is so beloved that people are doing fan art, not for any particular game but the simple the act of playing with it (via annazees)…

Granted, one of the best things about the Switch is all the different ways in which one can play (via kanekoshake)…

If you enjoy your Switch on the go and are looking for a way to store games… and are a diehard Breath of the Wild fan as well… plus if you have access to a 3D printer (via miki800.com)…

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It’s a tribute to Star Wars… games… all of them… featuring Princess Leia focused on her DMG (via deviantart.com/robduenas)...

BTW, do you still have your Game Boy? If not, here ya go (via anthony10000000)…

When the realization hits that your Game Boy Color library is incomplete (via @Bootleg_Stuff)…

Back to my buddy Steve, who visited the Primark at the Staten Island mall and took pics of the game related apparel that, sadly, were no longer in stock by the time I was able to swing by. With the one thing I really wanted being this shirt…

This pair of Super Mario Land X Air Jordans is only $1,350.00 (via miki800.com)…

I’m sure you’ve seen him already, but for the sake of completion, here’s that grandpa from who rigged this bike with 11 phones to become a Pokemon Go master (via bbc.com)…

Yet another sign of our times, literally (via fuckdragonballz)…

This image features a PSP and a MacBook, both of which are from the mid-2000s, yet feels very late 1990s/early 2000s. Why? Those USB cables (via jcgraphix)…

And last but not least, here’s Paris Hilton with her DS in 2005 (via @ParisHilton)…

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ikesenmotonari · 6 years

Text

yay that ikesen oc thing. she’s a multifandom oc but hey im not creative so i might as well JAM her into another universe lets go lads

idk who to tag but if u have an ikesen oc go for it i wanna know bout em!!!

i was tagged by @nyktoon-ikemenlove thank you sweetheart!!!

Age? Height?

“Hi! I’m Melody Wyverne, but my friends if I had any would call me Mel, Mells… that fun stuff! I’m nineteen and I’m five foot two!”

She’s petite, on the curvy side. She’s 5′2″, or 155 cm; she is only nineteen and wants to go home. lmao

What’s your fashion like? [Time travelers – pre & post-wormhole!]

“Er, pre time-jump I was a fan of sleeveless hoodies and high-waisted jeans. I didn’t go out much, so I dressed comfortably. Now I wear kimono and hakama… it’s pretty. I sure hope it didn’t trouble people too much to make these…!“

The top one is an older doodle. thonk emojis

Where are you from?

“I’m from Canada, actually. I lived alone for a bit then my dad reached out to me and asked me if I’d like to spend some time with him in Japan. So uh, I just wanted to talk to him again and thought this would be a good way for me to intern somewhere… it might as well be his business right? Then the storm thing.“

Her mom is French, her dad is English. She’s got a ridiculously high IQ level and no social skills whatsoever, so she knows most Japanese and speaks it pretty okay despite her North American kind of accent. Is that a thing? thonks

Feudal era – pros and/ or cons?

“There are pros?!“ She’s not very happy being surrounded by blood and death…

Pros? Cool clothes. Cons? HAVE YOU MET THESE PEOPLE?!

If you’re not in your homeland/time, do you want to go home?

“Gosh. Absolutely.“

What’s your home life like?

“Well, I’ll run you through a usual day! Ah… well, I’d eat something, then play with my cat, talk to Avery for a bit, then… yeah I’d spend the rest of it at the garage, just working on my projects! It’s… I like working. It’s not healthy, and I’ve been told… but it’s nice, you know?“

Melody doesn’t go outside.

She scarcely leaves her property and the only close friends she has is a cat and a cyborg (a man with no arms). Her parents split years ago and she wasn’t properly socialized as a kid. Being raised as a certified genius? It’s… lonely. She doesn’t know how it’s affected her, but being thrown back in time is forcing her to look at things differently.

You just got your dream job! What is it? / Or, what’s your line of work?

“I’m a programmer on the side, but first and foremost, I make prosthesis for people. I have a background in medicine and engineering I suppose…”

Any other hobbies or skills? Do you use them / how do you use them in the Sengoku period?

“Not really… I can barely take care of myself as is, haha! Erm. I can’t use my skills much at all in this era. Other than some simple automatons, there’s also guns I can piece apart, but I’m more hesitant with those… all I can do is use my expertise in biology I guess. There’s a lot of injuries going around, and I’m glad I’m not completely useless.“

Where is your base of operations? Azuchi Castle? Kasugayama Castle? A pirate ship? Running all over the woods or in a secret monastery? Some other cool place?

“I woke up in a forest near Azuchi and stayed in a neutral tea house for a while before Lord Masamune pretty much dragged me to the castle. So I stayed there for a few months, and the warlords grew on me, but… I… got kidnapped. So I guess my base of operations is a pirate ship.”

Oh?

“…I don’t like it. Don’t get me started on their captain…”

How do you feel about killing and violence?

“I just wish there’s another way past it all. I don’t think I’ll ever understand the logic behind killing someone. I… I’m a doctor. Not a murderer.”

Have you learned to fight? If so, what’s your weapon and/or fighting style of choice?

“Nope, actually. But there’s some good guys on board that might be willing to teach me! At least, I hope so. The only thing I’m leaning towards are guns, unfortunately, but they’re the closest thing to a modern mechanism I can get. Eep… I don’t know how to fight! I don’t want to!”

What are you fighting for?

“Um, my life?!“ It changes. Eventually. ;3

What are your feelings about authority?

“As long as they’re not bullies? Fine.” She pauses. “Lord Nobunaga was different though. I didn’t understand him fully, but he doesn’t really make fun of me or anything. He’s just curious I guess. I don’t tend to question authority unlike some pirates.”

How do you handle someone invading your personal space?

“I just get really uncomfortable and back away if I can. I can’t bring myself to yell at people unless they’ve seriously whittled down on my patience. I didn’t know I had it in me, actually… huh.“

…do you invade people’s personal space?

“Ha…. haha! Yeah, sometimes. I get nosy okay? I didn’t even know what personal space was until I was eleven!”

Are you more open, or more reserved? Are you secretive?

“Avery says I’m an open book. I have nothing to hide, no secrets to keep. There’s not much that happened to me before, so I guess I’m some kind of blank slate? Gee, that sounds so harsh…”

Is this the first time you’ve been truly in love?

“Love? Have you spoken to these people?”

Eventually? Yeah. Yeah this is her first time.

What’s your style as a lover? (interpret this as innocently or not-innocently as you please ;) )

She’s sweet, affectionate and balanced. She knows when to handle time with her partner and time working on whatever independent activities. Though she’s quite a dense person overall and won’t realize if she’s even fallen for someone, she deeply and wholeheartedly trusts them. It takes a while for her to know this.

Also, she’s 99% submissive and slightly masochistic. As well as a rope bunny.

What are your favorite ways for someone to show you love?

Touches, fleeting ones. Tight hugs, any kind of embrace. Show her something unconditional, undivided. She’s been isolated for so long she convinced herself she won’t have someone to love, so she carries on merrily alone, not knowing how deprived she is of human contact. Hmm.

Take her on an adventure. Bring her out of her comfort zone. Show her what the world could be like… you’ll change her.

Do you use a petname or endearments for your lover(s)?

Not really, she would give nicknames if she could! She already says things like ‘honey’ and ‘dear’, but nothing too mushy unless it becomes super playful and joking.

How do you feel about…

Nobunaga? “He’s such a complicated warlord… I don’t know if I’ll ever understand him. But he’s shown some really keen interest in me. Is it because I’m a Westerner? Either way, Lord Nobunaga scared me and he still does. But after spending months in the castle and talking to him, he’s not actually as mean as I thought he was. I don’t know why he laughs at me though! I guess the things I do seem really silly to him!”

Hideyoshi? “Oh he’s super nice. He taught me how to make tea when mister Mitsunari and I put way too much leaves in. He tends to scold me for staying up though, but I can’t help my insomnia without my pills! It’s really comforting to know that Lord Hideyoshi is looking out for me though. The things he does reminds me of how Avery takes care of me, so I guess he’s like a big brother? Heehee.”

Masamune? “He was the one who brought me to Azuchi castle, and boy is he wild! His energy shocked me honestly, it’s like he never runs out of it. He’s so cool though! He kinda scared me too, and I’m pretty sure he can stab me once told to, but he’s been really playful. I didn’t know I’d have so much fun in Azuchi thanks to him. And he makes amazing food! Though he should stop bugging me to eat three meals a day…”

Ieyasu? “Aw man, I wish I can talk to him without him speedwalking away or trying to avoid me! He’s reading stuff about medicine, right? I’d like to know what he’s learning. It’s no doubt super different from modern medicine. I try to talk to him sometimes but Lord Ieyasu’s always busy… was it something I said?”

You know that question about invading personal space? Melody leans in to peer over at his books sometimes. She’s a bit too friendly to his liking.

Mitsunari? “I relate to him a lot. He’s really friendly and sometimes I’d spend my free time reading with him. Time goes by so fast though and either Lord Hideyoshi or Lord Ieyasu would step in to tell us we’ve missed dinner…”

Literally. They are so alike. They got along swell.

Mitsuhide? “S-Scary… have you heard of those rumors about him? I mean, in person he’s okay, but he’s just tall and intimidating to me. He did take me out to the marketplace once and show me around, which… well, nevermind. I guess he’s nice. Apparently Lord Hideyoshi told him to stop teasing me, but I don’t recall being teased?”

She’s dense.

Shingen? “Big man. Very tall, and… I think he was flirting with me. Whatever it was, he’s… really.. erm, polite and all, and I met him along with Yukimura and Sasuke at the forest tea house before I was taken to Azuchi. I don’t know him too well, but with what Lord Nobunaga told me, he must be a strong warlord…”

Kenshin? “I never met the guy. With a title like the ‘God of War’, I don’t think I want to…!” Fear.

Yukimura? “He’s… he’s kind of… what’s the word, gruff, isn’t he? I met him along with Shingen and I guess it’s a good quality to be honest and stuff. I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

She spilled tea on him. You can imagine the rest. Sasuke came in clutch.

Sasuke? “He’s super great. I wish I had more time to talk to him! He kinda saw right through my attempt to hide the fact that I’m from the future and he gave me helpful advice on fitting in and staying under the radar. Eep, sorry I got dragged to the castle, Sasuke! We can talk about astrophysics another time…! Seriously, I’m so grateful to him. Without his advice I’d probably be in big trouble.”

Kennyo? “He went near the tea house once and was feeding the fish in the koi pond. He’s scary, but… he’s nice. I served him tea and some dumplings. I had no idea he hated Lord Nobunaga so much…”

Motonari? “Ugh… infuriating. I didn’t know I could be so angry at someone before I met this guy. The nerve he has, to kidnap me in broad daylight, spit on Azuchi defenses, and then use me as his impromptu surgeon for the high seas! Hmph. … I… I don’t know. The more time I spend with him, I feel like I’m not going anywhere - you know, I try to get along, I really do, but I think he’s keeping me away? Like, he just tends to stay shallow with people. As annoying as he can get… I want to know why. He’s shown how playful he could be, and his crew loves him. He gives me the same vibes as Lord Nobunaga, actually… intimidating, but I want to know more about him.”

Any other friends/notables?

“I have a friend named Avery and he’s awesome! He took care of me ever since I was eleven, he was twenty-one at the time and now he’s thirty. He’s like a dad to me. Oh, and this isn’t too important, but he has metal arms. I made those! Er, the updated ones, actually. Just to make sure they’re functioning like real arms and all. The prototypes were made by my mom and he was severely injured, so the surgery took a while. He and I grew really close after my parents’ divorce. He lives a few blocks down, and he has eight dogs. Don’t ask ME why, you should ask HIM. … I miss him. I hope he’s okay.”

She also has a cat named Charlie. He’s a grey ragdoll. That’s… that’s about it.

hooray for my shallow motonari headcanons with trust issues

#oof #ikesen oc #my art

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brod-anthropology · 3 years

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Documentary update

Going okay! I mean not great, but we’re moving. Videoing in the aquarium was great, all of the animals were super active and the divers were out and I came at feeding time so they were very active and right at the front, and it was quiet too! Overall the shoot worked out in my favour! I am concerned that the quality of the footage isn’t the best, I had the setting on auto/the recommended but in a few of the videos it’s very grainy, and in some cases I know that that’s because of the dirt in the tanks from the cleaning but in other cases I think it’s the lights they used and the curvature of the tanks- there were specific tanks with the same lights and I noticed that they were the ones giving the weird texture, Im assuming it’s to do with that? Maybe they’re a specific type of LED or something? That and some of the tanks are slightly curved or warped (for the sake of the animals) which distorts the light the camera picks up. RIP me I suppose but I’ll work with it, it’s not like I’m not involved in that in anyway 100% some of the frame rates weren’t right or the IOS shouldn’t have been on auto for some and some were out of focus etc etc.. but it’s all a learning curve!

Audio wise, a bit rough. The music is very plain, it’s nice how ambient it is and it has delta and beta waves in it which doesn’t sound like it means anything but they’re 1. Supposed to prompt relaxation and calming in humans and 2. Fish really enjoy those frequecies for sound! So I kind of thought it was cool and somewhat appropriate to include them- I know my video is very negative and blunt but I think it being juxtaposed by very relaxing and tranquil music, it’s a weird sensory contradiction to be being given such bleak messages with such nice and tranquil music and visual. I mean we’ll see how it goes it might not be suitable but eh!

Interview wise, it’s terrible! I contacted the NMA (national marine aquarium) to see if they had any interviews or footage i could use or borrow, or anyone who’d be willing to be interviewed by me and sadly they couldn’t sort anything till the new year till, which is still cool that they’re willing to work with me in the future but obviously that doesn’t work within time limit. And I tried to contact tutors and lectures at the university but again, everyone’s so busy at the moment the few that have actually taken the time to respond to me either aren’t available or are only available after the new year, which again is lovley of them and I’d love to work with them in the future but still doesn’t fit within time limit. So now, I’m my options are: steal interview, record me/a friend, or no interview. Stealing (not stealing but you know what I mean) would mean good quality audio, maybe even by a well know voice, professional sound and quality and good writing but it also means that there’d be copyright issues and they might not say what I want them to, it would just be similar things and not what I’ve scripted. Me or a friend being interviewed would mean it would be scripted and it would be well timed, but it might mean it’s not the best acting and there’s no sense of authority or legitimacy to the voice (you know if some random 20 year old is talking about climate change vs David Attenborough, you know who you’re going to believe) but I guess that doesn’t really matter, no one ever really knows the voices in documentaries- but it would be limited as far as voice acting goes, none of us are professionals and I know that me personally am not entirely comfortable or confident being a voice actor but hey! If push comes to shove I guess I’ll get over it! I think the video would work if there wasn’t any interview or voiceover, but I guess for the sake of the marking and the module it would be better if I could have one rather than not- if nothing works then it’s not the end of the world but my aim is to have some dialogue at least.

I’ve also decided to go less along the dark imagery and try and keep the video predominantly my own footage. I think for me, it would get the message of what I’m trying to say (e.g: that our world is dying and we’ve ruined it, etc..) across better. Using very literal footage and imagery seems a bit on the nose to me, every knows what plastic pollution looks like and everyone is aware of it and how horrible it is and looks, and I think to show it plaina nd simple would do the exact same thing that happens when you see adverts on TV- you zone out. I think there’s an issue with desensitisation that comes with constantly seeing negatve images and being exposed to ‘horrors’ all the time. Don’t get me wrong, I think we should see it and we hsould HAVE to see it, but I think that nowadays we see it all the time so we stop caring as much, shocking images lose their shock factor and they become normlasied and therefore are recognised as normal- they lose their brevity. I think using nicer imagery and more tranquil, peaceful scenes and pleasant music 1. juxtaposes the nagtive messaeg of the video, 2. avoids lacklustre shock value (of, for example, a turtle with a straw up its nose, a bird wearing a plastic bag, etc..), and 3. gets across the message that ‘this’ (what’s being shown) is what is not only at stake and is in peril but is also what we should be saving.

#104

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forbesjames96 · 4 years

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kittymonks-fanfiction · 5 years

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Genderswapped Nations Review - Chapter 4

Welcome back to Genderswapped Nations, the fanfic where it’s possible for nine American minors in Germany without passports to buy nine plane tickets all heading to eight different countries at the same time using USD. There were less attempted sexual assaults last time, which is always a plus, but I can’t say that there won’t be any attempted crimes against minors this time around. What do I mean by that? Let’s jump in and figure that out.

Chapter 4: Substitutes and Suitcases

Believe it or not, this is actually one of the better chapter titles in Genderswapped Nations…even if, as you’ll find out later, the ‘suitcases’ aspect of the title has very little to do with the plot of the chapter.

The plane landed, and Ariana got off. She was immediately greeted by businessmen, who looked at her nicely at first but then looked confused. “What?” Ariana asked.

“We were expecting Mr. Kirkland,” one of the businessmen replied.

“Wait a minute…you’re not our boss who’s hundreds of years old and is the embodiment of the country we live in! Harvey, you said he would be on this flight!”

And wasn’t she just getting off a normal passenger flight? If they were expecting England, why would they intercept a thirteen year old girl?

“You mean England?” Ariana asked. “Shouldn’t he be here right now?”

“No, he left yesterday on classified matters,” another one of the businessmen said.

Oh cool, so nobody knows why he left to go to Germany. That’s why he…left businessmen at the airport so they could talk to him once he got off the plane with his genderbend? Sorry to say, but it’s not ‘classified’ anymore if these guys witness you getting off a plane with a younger female version of yourself after the fact.

“Oh, is that so?” Ariana said. “I’ll fill in for him until he gets back.”

Uhhhh, what? Why would this be the first thing she suggests? She’s only come to Britain so she can…um, avoid England (I think?). If he’s only going to be gone for a little while longer, why would she volunteer to take control of the entire country? Isn’t there a prime minister to do that? Isn’t there the UK Parliament? I mean hell, if you really want to prove that you’re an idiot, past me, you could even claim that Queen Elizabeth II is in charge—she’s not, but it would make more sense than what’s going on here.

“And why would we put a teenager in charge of Great Britain?” one of the businessmen asked.

“I can cook better,” Ariana said.

“Oh, well, that was the only thing that we thought was wrong with Mr. Kirkland. And since you are technically just him in a dress, I guess you could fill in for him for a while.” One of the businessmen decided.

“Great!” Ariana exclaimed.

This reads like a fucking parody. But no, this is real canon! She just shows up, volunteers to take control of the country while England is away, and they let her do it because she can cook better (despite the fact that she shouldn’t know that England’s a bad cook since she’s never even met the guy). This is like the plot to some Disney Channel movie, it’s insane.

This was also the case for the other girls; they all filled in for their counterparts while they were away.

And as if it couldn’t get any more ridiculous, the same thing happens to all of the other girls. Even Allison, who’s not even old enough to register for an account on YouTube according to its terms of service. Wow.

Later, Ariana got a phone call after she was brought to England’s house. She answered it, and was greeted by Louella. “Ariana, the countries are having a meeting. Get to Berlin.”

But…didn’t they just leave Berlin? And I’m sure that if England left Berlin right after Ariana, he should be back by now. And if he hasn’t left yet because of flight delays, then you’re going right back to him!

“Why do we have to have a meeting now?” Ariana asked.

“None of the other countries know we’re filling in for the real ones,” Louella explained. “We need to introduce ourselves.”

“Right,” Ariana said.

You couldn’t just use Skype or hold a press conference or something? They don’t hold entire world meetings every time a new president/prime minister gets elected. It makes it seem like Louella wants to hold this meeting just to brag or something. In fact, by the time this meeting ends, all of the nations are going to be home and ready to take control again! What’s the point?

She got money to board a plane to Berlin, and did just that. When she entered the meeting room, she noticed all the nations, except the gender swapped ones, were staring at her. When she sat down, Louella stood.

Well that’s a familiar occurrence. I have to wonder if Ariana was really the last to arrive though. How did the North Americans arrive in Berlin within the same day that they were asked to go there, even arriving BEFORE another European did?

“May I have your attention, please?” She asked firmly. The other nations gave her their attention, but many still had confused faces. “First, I want to discuss-”

“Why are we being bossed around by a thirteen year old girl?” one of the nations questioned.

I don’t know what nation this was supposed to be (I think I sort of headcanoned that it was Romano or Belarus or someone??) but I love them. They should be the main character of the fanfiction instead of Mary-Sue Ariana.

“I was getting to that,” Louella growled, before regaining her normal voice. “As you can see, a few of the attendees are the thirteen year old female counterparts of our respective countries.”

“So, where are the original ones?” another voice asked Louella.

They should know where they are if they had a meeting just a few days ago about Prussia kidnapping these girls in the first place. Obviously they’re away ‘rescuing’ the thirteen year old girls that have now replaced them.

By the way, past me, you missed a good opportunity to have someone freak out and think that the original countries were killed and these children are trying to replace them. It would have made this meeting have an actual point because that would’ve been funny as hell with Louella on the spot having to prove that they don’t have nefarious intentions and that the originals are probably fine.

“I’ve consulted the other gender swaps, and the original countries are away on ‘classified matters’.” The counterpart answered.

“Was that it?” Another country asked.

“I guess, I don’t really have any other important things to talk about,” Louella said. Some of the nations grumbled as they all stood up and left the gender swaps in the room alone. “How did I do?” Louella asked.

That was, without a doubt, the best political meeting I’ve ever witnessed in my life. Wow. If all UN meetings are like that, where they only discuss one point of business that only affects nine countries and immediately becomes irrelevant a few hours later, then I should really look into joining the UN. It would be a walk in the park. I am the Shenandoah River, after all. That counts as a nation that can be united with other nations, right? I have poisonous fish who can vouch for me!

“You just let some of them walk all over you.” Ariana said.

“You and three other people were the only ones who got to speak,” Kierra said.

“Yeah! Those meetings are nothing when I don’t get to speak!” Allison complained.

All of those are completely justified criticisms because really, the meeting didn’t have a point at all. And would you be surprised if I told you that this exact same thing essentially happens next chapter too??

Louella nodded. “Well, we should get going now. Be sure to visit Germany more often, okay?” She asked her friends.

She doesn’t have anything to say to these criticisms. She knows that it was a pointless meeting, she just wanted to make everyone respect her authority by forcing them to come to Berlin for two minutes for a pointless meeting.

Everyone nodded, except Francisca. “It’s very unusual that you aren’t speaking for once, Francisca,” Ariana teased.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with you? You’ve seemed worried this whole meeting.” Louella said.

“It’s just…” Francisca began. “I don’t think it was very smart to say out counterparts weren’t present. Some countries would take our ‘Substitution’ as an opportunity to take over our countries.”

This is almost a decent point, but the United States doesn’t get conquered every time the president leaves to go meet with foreign leaders. I’m American, so I can’t speak for Europe on this point. For all I know, the presidency in France could be trading hands quicker than a hot potato right now.

And hahahahahaha Francisca said Substitution like the chapter title Substitution and Suitcases oh how charming.

Kierra nodded in agreement. “I’d say the only one safe from that would be Iscah.”

“And why wouldn’t I be safe?” Allison questioned.

“Seriously?” Ariana said. “Just because you’re in the west doesn’t mean you’re safe.”

“So why is Iscah safe?” Allison questioned, but quickly took it back, remembering the night she hid in Ariana’s closet to keep away from the creepy girl.

It’s super funny, the way the fic just keeps telling us how creepy Iscah is even though Iscah never does anything creepy. I also have to point out the fact that not only is Iscah safe because ‘she’s creepy’, but it’s implied to be (I think) wintertime and, well…ask Napoleon how well invading Russia on foot during the winter usually goes.

Aaaand Allison should be safer from active ‘invasion’ compared to the European countries because if America’s already on his way back from Europe, then it would be impossible for someone currently in Berlin to leave this meeting to go to America and invade while he’s still on the plane. Since he left to go to the same place way before they did, it goes without saying that they wouldn’t get to America before he would. Not only that, but, the U.S. has the second largest military in the world. I don’t care how ‘evil’ you think you are, it would be a pretty bad idea to single-handedly troll a country that throws as much money at its military as the U.S. does.

“We should be getting back then,” Ariana said.

“Remember! Don’t forget to visit Germany!” Louella called as the nations walked away.

“If there is one, aru,” Yiesha muttered.

Oh god, edgy. Anyway, as you can see, it was by this point that I caught on to China’s verbal tick from the Japanese version of Hetalia and threw it in for good measure. It…doesn’t make much sense, really. That’s all there really is to say about it.

Meanwhile, England’s plane landed. He got his bags, and was confused not to find any businessmen waiting for him like they were told to.

So he straight up just told those businessmen to amble about aimlessly until he came back? But why? The mission was ‘classified’, so what were they there for?

He decided to walk back to his house himself, but when he got there, the door was locked.

Is that…unusual? Doesn’t he normally leave the country’s capital locked when he leaves on business trips? No wonder everyone thinks that their countries are going to get conquered, England doesn’t leave his door locked when he leaves!! Who knows who else could be leaving their doors wide open right now??

He rang the doorbell, aggravated enough to kick down the door but not wanting to harm his house.

And he doesn’t have his key? This almost seems offensive to people from the UK. This is the sort of forgetfulness you’d expect out of a character like America or Italy, definitely not England.

…unless the joke is that he’s old and forgetful, in which case…ha? There’s not much of a punch line if it’s a joke. It’s more of a nuisance than anything.

Ariana heard the chime of the doorbell, and ran to the door.

OH GOD I think I have whiplash, that POV change was so sudden.

But she was shocked, because when she opened the door, England was there, and he threw one of his briefcases at her about two seconds after the door was opened, assuming it was France or some other perverted intruder.

What the shit?? Why would he throw his suitcase at the first person who opened the door assuming that someone broke into his house? Does he not have maids and butlers? Why would he ring the doorbell if he expected a home intruder to answer?

Oh and by the way Ariana’s totally dead now. England might not be the strongest but he is a grown man and he threw that briefcase directly at her face. Someone needs to call the funeral home up the street.

He soon apologized as Ariana lifted the suitcase off her face and they recognized each other.

“That’s the same guy from Prussia’s house,” Ariana thought. “Prudence was lying!”

She may not be dead, but she definitely has some brain damage. Seriously, that should be abundantly obvious now. Nobody put two and two together and assumed that the countries were away looking for their genderbends since they couldn’t find the real guys anywhere in the capital buildings of these countries?

“Who are you?” England asked.

“Ariana,” the girl replied. “And you must be England.”

“Yeah.” The man replied.

They stared at each other awkwardly for a minute or two, until this silence was broken by a phone call.

What a fantastic exchange. This is exactly how I would greet my genderbent counterpart upon first meeting them and walloping them with a suitcase. At least Ariana’s completely fine after having been physically assaulted by a grown man though, that’s a relief.

Ariana walked over and answered. “Hello, England, Ariana speaking,” she said.

“This is the awesome Prussia,” the other line said. “And I’m coming over there soon!”

What the fuck??

“What?” Ariana asked. England ran over to his counterpart and yanked the phone from her hand.

“Hey! Who’s this?” he demanded.

England just telepathically knows that the phone call was bad news from Ariana’s only reply being a calm—and not incredulous—“What?”

“This is the awesome me,” Prussia repeated. “And I’m guessing this is England now.”

WHY DID HE ASSUME THAT ENGLAND WASN’T HOME YET??? It’s bizarre enough that it took him this long! Assuming that it would take him even longer is just insane!!

“You’re bloody right this is England now!” England shouted. “Now what did you just say to my counterpart?”

“Eh, nothing.” Prussia said. He hung up.

Hold on, what the hell just happened?? No, seriously! Does this imply that Prussia planned for the girls to take over their host countries? Did he place a diversion to keep the countries from getting home in a timely manner so he could single-handedly conquer them? What’s this Batman Gambit bullshit??

“So, what did he say to you?” England said in a normal but slightly aggravated tone.

“He said he was invading,” Ariana replied. “But I guess he quit out on it when he realized you’re here.”

“Probably,” England muttered.

Is this…a common occurrence? If our president leaves again anytime soon, can I call the White House and threaten to invade in the hopes that they’ll just give me the job instead? I’m way too young, but I’m sure I can cook better than our current president can. That’s all the work experience I need to run a country, after all.

Then, the phone rang again. Ariana walked over to pick it up, but England stopped her and answered it himself. “What is it?” he questioned.

“Hey, it’s France,” the phone said. “I just wanted to brag about how cute my gender swap is!”

“Really?” England asked.

Did…nobody else get a threatening call from Prussia? Just England for some reason? None of the countries actually bordering Germany? Like, say…France??

Not to mention that it’s squicky for a grown man to gush about how cute a little girl is to another grown man, like, 99% of the time.

(Note: The other 1% is just Maes Hughes raving about how much he loves his daughter. In all other contexts, it’s squicky.)

“Who is it?” Ariana asked loudly.

England covered the speaking part of the phone as h answered, “It’s just France.” Ariana nodded in understanding, and England brought the phone back to his ear.

There was no purpose for that little segment of England explaining who was on the line since all it did was repeat to the audience, “Hey, the person on the other end of the phone is France.” That was the perfect opportunity to tell a joke via Ariana’s reaction to this information and you blew it.

“Yes, she’s so cute! And by that background voice I just heard, yours must be dreadfully ugly!” France responded.

“That’s not true!” England vindicated.

Do I need to remind my audience of the ‘fun fact’ I pulled out in chapter one about England’s English VA?? I don’t like having to share that information more than I have to, but I’ll do it. I’ll fricking do it man.

He abrubtly got another phone call, and he made France hold as he answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, British dude, it’s America,” the phone said.

…British dude. I’ll let that speak for itself. Just…British dude. This man raised you when you were a child!!

“And I bet this is about your gender swap,” England sighed.

“Hey, how’d you know?” America asked.

“Lucky guess.” England replied sarcastically. America, though, did not catch this sarcasm, and instead continued to talk.

What are the chances that both countries would call England specifically at the same time to give him the same information? If England just got home, shouldn’t America still be on his plane going over the Atlantic Ocean? There’s no way a flight from Berlin to London would take the same amount of time as a flight from Berlin to Washington, D.C..

“I just wanted to say, my gender swap is awesome! She likes all the same foods I do, and she gets along well with Mr. Tony!”

Does…Does America usually call him ‘Mr. Tony’? Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I remember him being referred to as just Tony.

in the background, England could lightly hear the alien mentioned muttering swears, probably knowing England was on the phone. Then, America hung up.

That’s just it? No reply? He just hangs up when he’s finished talking? That’s cold.

England redialed France, and the French man asked, “Who was calling?”

“Who do you think?” England questioned.

France seemed to understand who England meant.

Great, now they both have telepathy.

“Well, anyway, I just wanted to say that my gender swap is better than yours.”

France hung up before England could protest.

How productive a conversation that was. It was so unnecessary that it hurt. When you have a German extremist kidnapping children from America, brainwashing them, and threatening to conquer Europe, is bragging to your rival over the phone really your biggest concern?

He unplugged his phone, and faced Ariana and said, “Still sorry about the suitcase thing.”

“No problem,” Ariana replied with a smile.

“It’s okay, I just have a broken nose and five missing teeth. All is forgiven.” “Besides, it makes me look more British anyways!”

I’ve finally caught on to the China ‘aru’ thing, even if the only China reference was one line by China’s counterpart.

Yes, because that was the only thing wrong with this fic.

It seems like it’s over again, right? You should know better by now that something like this is not the kind of ending I throw into the end of FanFics. Seriously, remember Chapter 2, ‘Conversation and Costumes’? It’s like that ending.

Oh, you mean how it ended on a cliffhanger of ‘are the countries going to accept the girls or not?’ Because no, this ending is nothing like that. The plot should actually be over now, with maybe just one more chapter where Prussia gets punished somehow for kidnapping a bunch of little girls.

And it’s weird that I capitalized both ‘f’s in ‘fanfics’. I don’t know why that is. Maybe I assumed it looked cooler.

Also, *spoiler alert* the next chapter will feature Allison and America! Because neither of them has said ‘I’m the hero’ yet, and I thought that would only be appropriate :3

Fan-fricking-tastic. Because America and his counterpart weren’t Flanderized enough as it was.

Well, that was chapter 4 and my god was it a clusterfuck of horrible decisions and insane world politics. Anyway, be sure to come back next time for more pointless meetings, senseless violence, and the beginning of World War III. No, seriously. I’m not exaggerating. And the abuse counter doubles, if you were worried that Alexis wasn’t being tortured enough as it was.

(CANADA/ALEXIS ABUSE COUNTER=5)

#hetalia #hetalia axis powers #fanfiction #fanfiction review #kittymonk's fanfiction reviews #fanfic review #writing review #genderswapped nations #genderswapped nations review #my old writing

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russellthornton · 7 years

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Rock-Steady Self-Respect: How to Fine-Tune Your Internal Compass

Want a sense of self-esteem stronger than an oak tree? Here’s how to respect yourself in any environment… Self-respect is an important tool.

If an oak tree represented your level of self-respect, that would be pretty good, right? Order, strength, solidity, the known. Well, perhaps. Without chaotic air currents and stormy clouds, the tree would eventually die.

Likewise, we all have many responsibilities in our day-to-day lives and crises happen from time to time.

The trick is to build order into your life, but to also harvest gold *wisdom* from the inevitable chaos when it comes your way.

This process is how you grow more and more solid over time in the real world. It’s also a never-ending journey.

Respect yourself using feedback

One cool thing about the human body is that it seems to know when you live in a self-respecting way or not. If you listen to this internal compass, you fine-tune your sense of what creates and what breaks apart your self-respect.

Learn self-respect by focusing on these key areas

In the past, I hated making mistakes. But now I understand that the feedback that comes from firsthand experimentation, gives you a huge advantage in life. Only by first learning where your weakness is, can you then sort that area out.

So treat this journey towards rock-steady self-respect as a life-long adventure and experiment. Test out these areas and over time you’ll be able to weather the strongest of storms.

#1 Self-belief. Self-doubt is fine in context, but at some point, you must let go and trust your own convictions. Listen to feedback and actively search for it, but also follow-through on the things you believe in. [Read: 15 feel-good secrets to feel better about yourself]

#2 Reality. We all should co-operate with others to get by. However, if you imagine how the world works or what people are up to, you may create false monsters.

Look at people and learn what it is they want. If you find yourself avoiding looking at a situation or person, you won’t know what it needs for you to achieve a win-win.

#3 Honesty. Ever been around someone you admired due to how totally honest they were able to be, even with their insecurities?

I got into a web of lies, which lasted from my teen years until my early 20s. Not only did this damage my relationships, but they also created way more insecurity than if I’d just been honest about my fears.

Speak your truth and you eliminate those webs. Part of this means letting go of controlling how others perceive you. An exciting way to live, as you’ll never quite know what might happen next, or even what you’ll say or do! Check out the Sam Harris book on this, called Lying. [Read: How to stop lying to yourself and to the people who love you]

#4 Relationships. If you have no friends, you’ll find it impossible to respect yourself in the long-term. Your brain constantly processes your situation as threatening, because humans are highly social creatures.

Without the support of someone who understands your life situation, you’ll be prone to depression and anxiety. So reach out and be consistent about it, until you hone in on the people you most like spending time around.

The same goes for intimate relationships, accountability groups, and family, each play different but important roles.

#5 Edge. Your edge is where discomfort and your deepest fears lie. Seek them out. Play right to the edge of your capacity so that you’re maximally engaged. Take up that public speaking class!

At your edge comes self-respect, aliveness, creativity, and connection. So, lean just beyond it—not so far that you fall into chaos, but enough that you’re shaking! [Read: 15 ways to live your life to the fullest]

#6 Body. Treating your body like a temple pays self-esteem dividends.

-Work out regularly and really push yourself. This is linked to being a super-ager and non-depressed.

-Stretch and sing when you feel restricted.

-Support your gut microbiome with healthy bacteria promoting foods like mushrooms, cruciferous vegetables and complex carbohydrates–and stay away from inflammation-promoting foods.

-Create a stand-up workstation, so you’re not sitting at work during the whole day.

-Stand with confident posture, not slouched over, and you’ll feel more confident.

#7 Past, present, and future. If chaos takes over an important area of your life, it can be difficult to have rock-steady self-esteem. For example, if a parent passes away.

Clinical psychologist Jordan Peterson, who teaches at Toronto University, asks you to map out your past, present, and future, focusing on the key areas for well being: career, family, relationships and health, as well as areas where there’s emotional intensity.

Being informal and imperfect’s far better than no map at all, so just write freely.

Then envision a future heaven and future hell. The heaven is where you aim to head towards, should you do the things you know you should do. The future hell is an extra incentive to not do the things you shouldn’t do, in order to avoid a personal hell of your own creation, years down the line. [Read: How to let go of your past and be excited by your future]

#8 Meaning. Believe that what you do do, and what you don’t do, matters. Listen to your internal compass for this. It tells you what is most meaningful to you.

Putting faith back into the value of meaning is a great way to fight against nihilism, which inflicts you if you approach life from the perspective that meaning is completely artificial or illusory. [Read: What is the point of life? Secrets to decode the big cosmic joke]

#9 Heroism. Take responsibility for challenging projects and endeavors that are really meaningful, even when you’re uncertain you’ll succeed. With more of the right responsibility comes a deeper sense of meaning.

Generally, look beyond immediate pleasure gratification. Instead, expect to work hard for everything you get, in conditions of uncertainty. Convert that chaos into order, like a compelling protagonist!

#10 Values. Knowing your values—and actually living up to them—is the crux of self-esteem. Breaking an important personal value even leaves you feeling ashamed. Use this negative feedback to pinpoint what your values are, so that you can honor them in the future!

For example, if you enjoy deep connections, you might feel a constant sense of low self-esteem if you only have superficial ones.

#10 Reading. I’m always amazed at how we are offered the chance to buy the best thoughts to have ever run through a genius’ mind in their whole life, for the price of $0.99 in digital format.

You are who you surround yourself with and that list includes those who lived hundreds of years before you.

Increase the quality of thoughts you are exposed to by diving into the greats. Take your time to understand the likes of: Tolstoy, Nietsche, Orwell, Socrates. It will profoundly strengthen your thinking. [Read: Reinvent your life: 12 must-read books to read in your 20s]

#11 Writing. Writing is thinking on steroids. It forces you to hone your arguments, articulate, and think critically.

You don’t have to publish a blog. Perhaps write on a notepad for 10 minutes a day. It’s hard to emphasize enough how crucial writing is, in training you to gather your own arguments and express them–from job interviews and general communication settings, to personal goals.

#12 Debate. Challenge yourself with opposing views. I’ve found time and time again, whenever I’ve been certain of how the world works, I actually made things harder for myself later down the line.

So now I question my approach to life. Say for example by checking out an author or YouTuber with a different opinion to mine, or watching debates between two intellectually matched people who disagree. This also makes my own arguments more sophisticated and informed.

Resultantly, whenever my worldview does get challenged, I don’t usually get destroyed. Because I’m willing to question my opinions and, secondly, I’ve often bombarded them so thoroughly that I can hold my own.

#13 Self-talk. We’re often far better at remembering negative things about ourselves than our small successes and moments of greatness, where we overcame fears and made an impact. So, don’t forget to reward and congratulate yourself often.

-Do something you love, like reading a book each night or seeing a movie with friends on a weekend.

-Keep a record of your achievements and amazing things people have said about you—a success journal is a positive reinforcement that you can open up right before an important public speech or during a difficult period of your life. [Read: How to build self-confidence: 16 ways to realize you’re worth it]

#14 Gratitude. I do this one nearly every day because I believe gratitude isn’t a talent—it’s a practice.

Don’t overlook the small stuff. Grab a five-minute gratitude journal and remind yourself of what you have to be grateful for each day. Over time you’ll build a ball of joyous energy inside yourself.

#15 Envy. We all sell ourselves in order to show the best within us. It’s good to aspire towards greatness, but know the more personal your struggles behind the scenes, the more universal. And the more likely it is that others are dealing with similar things.

There is no ideal life. Life innately contains suffering. The key is to move towards growth and truth, wherever you’re starting from. Shift your perspective beyond that perfect Facebook profile picture.

#16 Usefulness. It’s hard to give when you’re absorbed by your own troubles. Do something that is useful to others, or for a cause you believe in. You’ll feel self-respect for taking on the responsibility.

#17 Experimentation. Accept that anything challenging and worthwhile involves risks and learning curves. However, with the feedback gained from failures, you’ll be better able to handle similar obstacles in the future. [Read: A helpful reflection – What am I doing with my life?]

#18 River. Let go to the river you feel pulled towards. When you ignore what you feel drawn towards, you disown a part of yourself. Explore your curiosities and inclinations: travel to Nepal, learn necklace-making for an hour each night, take up surfing.

[Read: 18 ways to have high self-esteem and start winning at life]

Self-respect is like Bruce Lee advised, both fluid and powerful. Expect to work hard, but be honest, and move towards things that are more meaningful, and away from those that aren’t.

The post Rock-Steady Self-Respect: How to Fine-Tune Your Internal Compass is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.

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miamibeerscene · 7 years

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A Sour Beer Pickle: Can American Brewers Better Define this Beer Style?

CraftBeer.com

February 22, 2017

I’ve had many ah-ha/ awe-inspiring/ pee-my-pants-just-a-little craft beer moments, but one of my fondest memories was the first time I discovered New Belgium’s La Folie. I can remember the Colorado sun shining through the skylight of the Ft. Collins brewery’s Liquid Center, striking the taster-sized glass and causing the strawberry-hued beer to shimmer. The taste was unlike anything I had experienced before. For years after I would zealously describe the beer’s experience as if one crammed a heaping handful of sour patch kids in their mouth and then got punched in the jaw; only in the most exhilarating way possible, like if you were a UFC fighter and getting punched in the mouth was your jam and you fed off of it. Hit me again! I said hit meeee!

(MORE: Brewers Go Beyond Bourbon for Barrel-Aged Beer)

The beer was a complete anomaly back then. The purposeful introduction of souring bacteria and unconventional yeast deemed too risky for breweries; cross-contamination of these new cultures into the brewhouse could spell doom to the business. There were few other opportunities to try sour beers, especially from American craft brewers. Not so today.

Sour beer, the broad categorization of which is now worth a quality-controlled risk driven by the consumer’s desire for the funkier, the complex-ier, the sour-ier. The popularity of these styles, not just by consumers, but by beer-loving brewers is obvious. How do you pack 2,000 brewers into a 1,000 seat room during the Craft Brewers Conference? Put together a panel of sour authorities, sprinkle in a brewer or two from Belgium, and get the eff out of the way. Even today, my mother-in-law asks where to score a couple bottles of Red Poppy for card night with her gal-pals.

The explosion in breweries producing sours is a blessing or curse depending on whom you ask. The general term “sour” carries with it much potential for the consumer and brewery but does little to provide context for how the beer was produced, making it a crap-shoot on what consumers think they are ordering. The variety of beers marketed as sour range quite widely in production methods, production time and cost to produce. This is not to say that a two-week, stainless-steel, mixed-fermented gose can’t be every bit as mind-blowing as a beer spontaneously inoculated by native yeast spores floating in on a cool fall evening’s breeze, transforming wort into a multi-layered masterpiece in an oaken barrel over the course of months or even years. They are both sour beers, both potentially memorable beer experiences, but not the same type of beer and definitely not the same investment or price tag. We need to go beyond calling or categorizing any beer with a bit of acidity a “sour beer.” How do we do it?

(MORE: 9 Weird Brewery Names and the Stories Behind Them)

Sour ≠ IPA

Sour does not equal IPA. The craft beer world knows how to handle the broad category of IPAs. Double, triple or session IPAs; red, white or black IPAs; fruit, hazy or yes, even sour IPAs all have a single discernable base style as an anchor.

While the term sour is apt for any beer with a wide range of acidic character, it fails to fully explain the difference between two beers with “sour” on the label. Lambeek, Leipzig and Berlin all have beers that are listed under the sour side of a beer menu. Lambic/gueuze, gose and Berliner-style Weisse really have little in common with the exception of the wild, spontaneously activated, souring and funkifying organisms, all which likely bear no resemblance genetically to anything the other regions have. Sour beers did not originate in a single geographic area the way the United Kingdom is credited for India Pale Ale, traditionally, or U.S. craft brewers claim the style’s contemporary revival.

That’s a pickle for those struggling to provide context to these acidified ales without pigeon-holing or stunting the creativity that is so important to small and independent craft brewers or hindering the breweries’ marketing department’s job to move cases.

When you look at it that way, we’re lucky we have the term IPA to describe anything that is strongly hop-forward or bitter. Bitter beer is not all the rage; IPA is. It is that identifiable base style, which many believe is needed for sours. With 5,000 craft breweries in the U.S., many of them making very different sour beers, how do we categorize them while showing cultural and geographical reverence, but also offering easily understandable queues to educate the consumer? It’s a pickle alright — a sour beer pickle.

(MORE: What is Craft Beer?)

Sour Beer Pickle: Made in America

Or not. Maybe it’s not a pickle at all. Maybe you accept the term sour as a style, instead of a limiting taste descriptor that does no service to these diverse beers. These sour beers are some of the most ancient of ales, so why now is there some problem with calling them sour? The Belgians get along fine marketing their sour beers, don’t they?

Not exactly. Belgians don’t call their sour beers sour, they call them beer. Sour beer is largely an American term. We tried a Lindemans or La Folie and grouped them on a singular taste rather than considering the origins and/or process of either. We didn’t know any better. We just knew we loved that mouth-puckering acidity. We didn’t care that they were different beers. Over time, sour became a word that meant crazy avant-garde beers, beers worth waiting in long lines for and shelling out the bucks for.

Not every sour beer follows that blueprint or trend. Many lactic, mixed-fermentation, so-called quick-sours have proven just as popular as the one’s that need patience. A brewery known for both styles, as well as ales and lagers, is Avery Brewing in Boulder. Avery is renowned for super creative wild and mixed fermentation beers with layers upon layers of flavors. Avery has also had success with a “Tropical & Tart” witbier known as Liliko’i Kepolo, described by Avery’s Chief Barrel Herder Andy Parker as an after work beach beer – inspired by his days working on Kona.

(MORE: Stop Hoarding. Why You Need to Drink Beer Fresh)

Liliko’i is a bracingly tart, fruity Belgian-style Witbier, akin to the brewery’s White Rascal. It is designed, produced and meant to be enjoyed at a price reflective of the resources put into it. Here’s the kicker: Liliko’i is produced with no sour organisms what so ever. The tartness comes from loads of passion fruit added to the beer. It is an amazing beer, perfect for a float trip, or the beach or breakfast, but should it be in the same category as one of Andy’s barrel-aged sours that are fermented with a cocktail of souring bacteria and Brettanomyces that slowly changes a beer in one of the 8,000 curated barrels at their production facility?

Could the lack of education and clarification of the sour category work against it and turn consumers off completely? Could someone or some company pass a beer off as something it is not in an effort to capitalize on the sour beer bonanza? The concern exists and further makes a case to educate beer fans on what the beers are and how they are produced. Nobody wants to discover they paid too much for a beer, even if it was a delicious beer.

As Parker said, the growing number of brewers who are trying to figure a way out of this pickle are trying to do the right thing, and if these brewers are, “doing right by their beers and their customers, the desire and need to better define this category becomes a source of pride.”

Sour Solution?

The sour beer pickle is as complex as some of the beer it focuses on, and even Avery’s Andy Parker confesses he’s unsure of a solution. Added to the equation is an international beer community that already has taken steps to define and protect the terms that are so important to their regions beer makers. HORAL, a group of Belgian lambic producers, exist to promote their unique creation and act as a regulatory agency for the misuse of the term “Lambic.” HORAL uses a seal to identify what they deem to be traditional lambic producers. Could a governing body in the United States help identify these beers, like HORAL tries to in Europe? Many brewers, including Parker, respect these regional terms, avoiding their use out of respect to the history and believe a voluntary decision to identify a brewer’s own beers in a consistent and educational manner could help. Other brewers have adjusted the term out of respect to international names while providing clues to the consumer of what their beer is inspired after. For example, The Bruery’s Rueuze, a play-off of gueuze or Russian River’s Sonambic, a Sonoma-California lambic.

Others have looked to provide stats on the acidity of their beers, similar to how IBUs represent bitterness levels. Firestone Walker provides titratable acidity on some of their labels. Titratable acidity is a measure of how strong something acidic tastes (different from PH which just measure the total amount of acid in solution), but like IBUs, a singular number can’t show the entire picture. In addition, brewers don’t want to spark anther IBU arms race like beer lovers saw with IPAs.

(TEST YOUR BEER KNOWLEDGE: Beer 101 Course)

New Belgium’s blender, Lauren Woods Salazar, reports a growing number of craft brewers who want to identify American sours that do not infringe on international appellations. American-made spontaneously fermented beers reflect the brewers’ own regionality and styles with their own uniqueness in many cases. It is important to recognize that. Despite a fiercely independent community of now 5,000 brewers, there seems to be a collective source of pride for the brewers who are producing all types of acidic beers.

As professionals mull over the best course to wade through the complexities of the sour beer pickle, it is important for us as beer enthusiasts to work to educate ourselves on the vast world of sour beer. We all need to learn about these beers to be able to differentiate and appreciate well-made beers, without denigrating or miscategorizing them. Above all, we should be able to make confident choices. Fight the urge to suggest that two beers can be compared simply on the fact that they lend an acidic, tart or sour taste. Marginalizing a beer to a single taste discounts the entire reason we love craft beer: for its variety, approachability and the unique and intimate experiences each category, style and individual beer provides. La Folie remains one of the most interesting beers on the planet, like many other great beers in this broad category, the true experience is limited if we continue to lump them together because of a single note.

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Andy Sparhawk

Andy Sparhawk, the Brewers Association’s craft beer web manager, is a Certified Cicerone® and BJCP Beer Judge. He lives in Arvada, Colorado where he is a homebrewer and avid craft beer enthusiast. On occasion, Andy is inspired to write on his experiences with craft beer, and if they are not too ridiculous, you might see the results here on CraftBeer.com. Read more by this author

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