#B.B. Stone

[musicmags]

[rodpower78]

[americanahighways]

Music & Film Reviews: Rolling Stones’ ‘Welcome to Shepherd’s Bush,’ plus Sun Ra, Christopher Cross, and B.B. King

Music & Film Reviews: Rolling Stones’ ‘Welcome to Shepherd’s Bush,’ plus Sun Ra, Christopher Cross, and B.B. King @rollingstones #sunra @itsmrcross @bbkingofficial @americanahighways #americanamusic #americanahighways #musicreviews #jeffburger #writtenbyahuman #newmusic2024

Music & Film Reviews: Rolling Stones’ Welcome to Shepherd’s Bush, plus Sun Ra, Christopher Cross, and B.B. King A gargantuan crowd—like the estimated one-and-a-half-million fans who gathered for a 2006 outdoor gig in Rio de Janeiro—adds energy and excitement to a Rolling Stones show. But relatively tiny audiences also have their pluses. They inject a note of intimacy and allow the band to loosen…

[mollypondfromwritingspace]

Book Characters/ context part 1

HS Era:

Molly Murphy is a 15-year-old who has been given to her dad 2 years ago. She's currently in high school, trying to juggle homework, friends, etc., alongside finding out that her dad is a superhero and adjusting to a whole new life. She is very prone to getting into trouble, but is a good kid on the inside. She's very lively, and everything is either the best or the worst thing to ever happen to her.

enter love interest. Deuteronomy (Dew) Demerez is one of a set of triplets that go to her school. He's very smart, and sort of the calm to Mo's storm. He often gets pulled into her schemes, and will be the one to get her out of trouble a lot of times. He also is a secret romantic, writing love poetry in secret. Dew is very good with words and can talk his way out of (or into) just about anything. Eventually, they start dating, and she gets to know Dew and his brothers and his dad, like family.

There's Hector, who's very cocky, and thinks he can do what he wants. This only works up to a certain point, which he'll push every time. His intentions are (almost) always a way to help either himself or his brothers. Also, he's surprisingly good with money despite hardly ever having it.

There's Louis, aka Lou, who is spacey AF to the point where other people often think he's high, but that's Just How He Is. He's got a heart of gold, though, and is the most likely to help someone out.

Then there's Don, the boy's father. He's got the style of your typical dad (i.e., white New Balances, Hawaiian shirts, etc.) and is like a second (third?) dad to Mo. He's sensitive, caring, and gentle but also can be strict when he needs to be. He's raising the boys on his own, but he's doing his best and honestly doing a great job.

Speaking of dads, Drake Murphy is Mo's and her little sister's. Grayson, aka Gray, stayed with her dad her whole life , and she's now 11. Drake tries his best to keep up with both her and Mo, but the stress of going from going from 1 to 2 kids over 2 years takes its toll sometimes. He is a very loving dad, though, if a bit high-strung. He's also protective, almost to a smothering extent, but can be persuaded to back off occasionally.

Levi Palmer, Drake's best friend, helps out a lot. He's a relaxed, goofy guy who's almost the opposite of Drake, but they get along great. He's very level-headed and often ends up as the mediator when fights do happen. He's also a pilot and loves airplanes and flying. He teaches Mo how to fly an airplane before she can even drive, much to Drake's chagrin.

Gray is Mo's younger sister. She's a feisty, tomboy of a eleven-year-old with the biggest heart and the biggest mouth out of everyone. She loves sports, animals, her dad, and her sister.

Mo's classmates /other characters.

Julia Douglas is one of Mo's best friends. She's very outgoing, rebellious, and seemingly super confident, but on the inside is very worried that she's doing something wrong. She has a huge family, mostly friends of her dads that she calls aunts/uncles. (One of which marries her dad later on). Her dad and most of her aunts/uncles are actors, and Julia feels like she needs to follow in their footsteps. However, once she expressed a desire to do something besides acting, her dad threw a hissy fit, which started an arguement that ended with him telling Jules that she was getting ""too rebellious". Jules' response was "Oh really?" and then to start listening to punk music, dye her hair, and generally just do minor things to give her dad a heart attack once a week. So, as a comprimise, Jules was allowed to go to public high school. She still hasn't given up the punk "phase", and appears to genuinely like it, much to her dad's dismay. But also there are people like Beau Baker (aka "B.B") and Peter Perry ("Pete") who will help her and her dad through whatever happens. Also, her father Daniell ("Dan" or "Danni"), and his best friend (Pete) are dating at this point. Dialogue: Julia: "On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be if-" B.B.: "At least a twenty."

Julia: hmm. *starts to do it anyway*

B.B. : don't even think about it A comparison: Drake: prove to me that you can be responsible with this 2001 Nokia before I even think about getting you a smartphone. Vs. Danni: here's an iPhone 10 (or whatever's newest) go nuts, kid.

Marigold Wallace (or Mari) is another one of Mo's best friends. Her older brother Dickie goes to the same school as them and is super protective of his little sis. Mari is very annoyed by Dickie, but at home, they get along pretty well. She's also kinda annoyed by Julia, as Mari's more of a nerdy, almost honor student type, and Julia's more of a rebellious skater kid type. They're still best friends though, much to the amusement/bewilderment of Mo.

Anna Sullivan ("Anne") is one of Mo's classmates. She's often involved in schemes with her brothers, and is very smart. She is easily manipulated, usually by Aaron. She has 3 little brothers, Aaron, Shiloh, and Tyler, which are 3 years younger than her. They go to school with Gray.

Dickie Wallace is in the grade ahead of Mari. He's super stressed about getting into a good college, etc, and seems kinda upset that Mari doesn't seem to be as concerned as he is when it comes to, well, anything. He's super rule-following but secretly kinda welcomes Mari and her friends' "rebellious behavior" that he occasionally gets dragged into (aka 2 am Taco Bell runs because he's the only one that has a car). He mellows out a little after a while, partially due to their dad talking with him, telling him to chill. Turns out, the main reason he's so worried about Mari is that he knows that due to {circumstances I haven't figured out yet} he's probably not going to be able to go to college(realized somewhere at the beginning of the 1st book), so he desperately wants Mari to succeed where he can't. Mari, meanwhile, isn't even sure she wants to go to college but feels so pressured that she ends up going anyway.

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2nd era: . Mari comes home from college (either halfway through or with her degree) and has dropped out, because she doesn't feel like it fits her. . also discovers that Julia, now an actress, now has three adopted siblings (technically her uncle B.B. adopted them, but she's so close to them that they're practically her siblings) that she carts almost everywhere. When she's not with them, people are forever calling/contacting her to come to get them out of their hair. She loves it and them. She's kinda like an "enabler" (or at least that's what people call her lol) to them. She gave up acting for a while, but with her siblings coming from an acting background, she ended up going back to it. She's kind of mellowed out, is now a lot more chill, and is a lot more comfortable with herself.

. Logan Walter ("Lo") is 13 years old, and a sarcastic little you know what. He loves learning about things, especially history, and likes to make up songs to teach his younger siblings things. Julia says she'd be lying if some of those songs didn't teach her a few things too. She'd never tell him that though, he'd just try to sing to her 24/7 and she doesn't think she could handle that.

James Walter ("Jamie") is 11 years old, and the sweetest one of the three. He's also super spacey, and very gullible. He also is always eating random things or trying to, and anytime he's around, you'll always hear someone say, "Jamie, take that out of your mouth". Usually, it's Julia.

Diana Leeann Walter ("Dee") is only 9 years old, but you'd swear she was a teenager from the way she talks. ("Call me Dee-Dee, and you die") Most people are split about whether she got her sassiness from Julia or Logan, but everyone agrees that she's cute. She knows this too with an arrogance that only little kids can get away with. She can butter up anyone and everyone, especially adults. . Mo is now working security for one of the richest men in the city with Finnley Carter ("Finn"), the man who knew her parents well and looked after her a lot as a kid. Turns out, they both moonlight as superheroes. How did she get this job? Well, turns out, that this rich man is Samuel McMiller, Dew's great uncle. He knows about Mo's secret identity and was impressed by Mo's talents, (plus it helped that Finn, already his security man, and Dew, his nephew, talked Mo up a lot), and decided to give Mo a shot. Also, Mo and Dew get engaged and later married. Dew is Samuel's assistant/protege

Samuel McMiller is Hector, Dew, Lou's great uncle, and Don's uncle. As stated above, he's one of the richest (if not the richest) men in the world, and very much has the personality of an old miser to an outsider, but has a heart of gold, and loves to go on (and drag his family on) international/global adventures. He's very protective of his money, but even more protective of his family, or at least Hector, Dew, Lou, and Mo. Don and Samuel's relationship is rocky, to say the least. He sees Don as a man who hasn't lived up to his potential, and Don sees Samuel as an old miser who doesn't seem to care about anybody. Slowly, they've begun to set aside their disagreements "for the kids".

Speaking of adventures, a lot of times these pop up under the guise of checking out some international/global property he has either invested in/bought or is thinking about doing so. So he calls up Mo ("I'm going to need someone from security out there in case something happens, you're the only one I fully trust" etc), Dew ("Lad, if you're going to take over for me, you'll have to learn how to {insert applicable thing- somehow he always comes up with at least one}"), and whoever else he feels like (usually at least Don, Lou, and Hector), tells Levi (who has taken on a job as Samuel's pilot) to fire up his engines, and they're off on a presumably safe voyage. However, between the six of them, either someone does something to royally mess up a major thing, or something unrelated happens but they investigate anyway. By the time all's said and done, they're all exhausted and head off home. Mo always has the best stories to tell Mari, Anna, and Julia (and whoever else will listen) when they get back. Mari and Julia have each been on exactly one trip with them, and swear they have no idea how Mo handles them.

Finnley Carter is Mo's mentor, and is like a third (fourth??) dad. It's unclear what happened between him and Mo's mother, but it is clear he still wants to be a part of her life. Mo at first was wary of this, but after a while, is okay with him being there, especially when she finds out about him being a hero. That was when she was 14. Nowadays, he's like family to her and vice versa. Goofy, dorky, and a klutz, he doesn't seem like the hero type, but he can be downright scary if he has to be. He's got a kind heart and an incredible mind. He was originally hired as an accountant for Samuel and can count at the speed of light. He likes to joke that he's won every "guess the amount of _ in the jar " contest in the state.

Drake and Finn have a complicated relationship. At first, their personalities majorly clashed, and they were constantly arguing. Now, they've mellowed out, thanks to time, patience, and "the kids" (Mo and Gray, possibly Levi)

Gage Grant (G.G.) is Don's cousin, and, according to rumor, is the luckiest guy in town. Things, opportunities, and especially money seem to fall in his lap, without him having to do hardly a thing. He seems to be snobbish about it, which has distanced him from the rest of the family. In reality, he is deeply jealous of Don, who has a family, is close to Uncle Samuel (sort of), and seemingly has the whole white-picket-fence dream that G.G. has wanted his whole life. Don, meanwhile, thinks that G.G. is a snob, and is jealous that he never had to work for a thing.

Efry Dalesome is Don and G.G.'s other cousin. He's very oblivious, but very adventurous and often ends up in trouble because of it. Often, Don or G.G. will be dragged into his shenanigans as well. Efry has a heart of gold though, and always tries to make up for his mistakes. He's very well-loved by the family.

Gabriel Griffin is the city's greatest inventor. He and Bruce team up quite a lot, and he frequently makes inventions for Samuel McMiller. He and Don are also good friends, and Mo, Dew, Hector, and Lou all look up to him. He's quite absent-minded, and also has a heart of gold.

Era 3: Julia and her family get into various shenanigans. Also; a wedding happens eventually

in addition to Lo, Jamie, and Dee, several other family members can be developed more in this book

the main story here is that Julia's dad and her uncle Pete are getting married. The story would be centered loosely around Julia's feelings about it, as well as the Sibs'.

also, at some point after this, Jules and Mari get married .

B.B. is the Sibs' (Logan, Jamie, and Dee) father. He's clever, sarcastic, and is great with kids (which is great, considering he now has 3 of them). He was who Jules went to about half the time with any problem she had. Heck, sometimes she'd even just come over to nap. You'd think that would change as she got older, and as the Sibs entered the picture, but she only came over more, to the point that people often joked about Jules living there. B.B. and Danni are long-time friends, having met at the same audition way back when. B.B. is just about the only person who can tell Danni off (that he'll listen to anyway).

Peter Perry is the other person who can tell Danni off since he's Danni's fiancé/eventual husband. He's very down-to-earth, and a sweet, caring soul. He's the other person Jules can turn to, and often does, with just about anything. He probably knows more about her than anyone. Pete and Danni have been dating for a few years now, but they've been friends for longer than B.B and Danni. They're very close and have moved in together. He gave Jules the place he was living in, much to Jules' happiness.

Daniell Douglas (Danni) is Julia's father. He's very egotistical, although that side of him has seemed to mellow a little since he started dating Pete. He's still very oblivious though and doesn't always realize when he hurts Julia's feelings. He also doesn't have a lot of common sense, and, while Julia used to hate it as a teen, she thinks some of the stuff he does is hilarious now. He can be caring when he wants to be and does love Jules in his own, weird way.

Somewhere in this, Jules and Mari realize they're in love with each other. Everyone else already knew it years ago.

[wisegardenbluebird]

MAYALL, EL BLUESMAN BLANCO

Eufemérides John Mayall cumple noventa años Francisco R. Pastoriza          Aquella generación de aficionados a la música que consagró a Beatles, Stones, Presley o Beach Boys, con los años, cuando el pop ya se lo había dicho todo, buscaron algo sustancial para llenar el vacío. Entre los géneros que vinieron a colmarlo, el blues fue uno de los más recurrentes y eficaces. Descubrieron entonces a…

[buck-star]

A love least expected | B.B

Bucky thought he found the love of his life in Steve, but little did he know that Steve going back in time would give him the opportunity to fall in love with someone who really loves Bucky.

Pairing: BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Fem!Reader, past Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Boyfriend!Steve Rogers

Wordcount: 6.184 Words

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, Bucky being insecure, Steve being mean, taking less care of themselves (Bucky), best friends to lovers, bit of idiots in love/mutual pinning, reader reads letter Bucky wrote to Steve (he doesn’t mind), more fluff, so much fluff, love confession

Authors Note: Thank you to my loveliest best friend @thevillainswhore for helping me find the pictures, a title and for always listening to all the ideas I throw at you hehe. I love you so much!❤️❤️ Dividers made by me.

Events: Trick or treat | Bucky Barnes, trick and treat, soulmates, best friends to lovers | hosted by me | Stevie BB 200 Follower Writing Challenge | Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, soulmate AU/ bit of idiots in love/mutual pinning, “Are you fucking kidding me?” | @steviebbboi | Writing Challenge | Soulmates AU, 🥐 ༄ؘ “ I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it.” | @elixirfromthestars

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The cold wind was blowing harshly, cutting into his skin. But the coldness outside was nothing compared to the one he felt inside him. His lips turned into a thin line, and the usual light blue eyes are now filled with pain and sorrow. His heart was broken, shattered in the tiniest pieces, and not even a sorry couldn’t fix what broke just a few minutes earlier.

The brown-haired man watched his boyfriend — ex-boyfriend — walking closer to the others. Time tracking, Bucky knew when he just heard that Steve would bring back the stones that he wouldn’t come back as the man he used to be.

The hug was too long, the gazes too intense, too hurtful. And Bucky knew it’s the last time he would hold his boyfriend — the next time he will hold him, it will only be his best friend. He couldn’t blame Steve; he didn’t want to. His heart was broken, but his feelings were still as strong as they used to be — as they always were, in the forties already.

While Bucky couldn’t imagine moving on without the man he thought would be the love of his life, he watched Steve move on without him. All the years, all what they went through meant not enough for Steve to be happy with him.

And once again, his mind ran wild. Was it Bucky who gave Steve a reason to move on? Maybe it was the winter soldier that made him less lovely for Steve. Maybe it was everything he did all those years. But why… why was Steve looking for him? He went to war for him and would even have walked to Austria for him. And now there was a man walking to the others; he did look like his Stevie, but he was so different.

Bucky wanted to call the other man’s name; he wanted to run after him and hold him. A few silent tears were rolling down his cheeks, his body shaking slightly, and he tried to hold back his sobs. With every step Steve was taking away from him, he felt his heart ripped out of his chest. There was nothing left.

The words Steve said earlier were still echoing through Bucky’s mind. ‘Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back.’ Until he gets back, but the way Bucky’s stomach dropped when he looked into the usual lovely blue eyes of his boyfriend, he could tell that things would be different when Steve would be back.

‘I’m gonna miss you, buddy.’ Bucky had to reply. He knew when Steve was lying, when Steve had something planned without saying it out loud. And this was one of these moments, where the slightly sad expression on the other man’s face gave away the truth. His lips curled up so softly that Bucky would have missed it; wouldn’t he have to find a little bit of hope for them in his boyfriend’s expression.

‘It’s gonna be okay, Buck.’ It was then and there the moment Bucky was sure that Steve wasn’t going to come back as the man he was going to leave. The man Bucky used to love will be back in the forties, being lost somewhere there; maybe he found true love while Bucky was in the war. Or maybe… maybe he would just go back to Buck and give them both a life they deserved without the pain the army and hydra caused.

But deep down Bucky knew the truth; he felt that Steve would change. Just the hope and the love made him believe that his boyfriend could come back to him and could be with him.

The further Steve walked away, the colder it got inside and around Bucky. He was shivering. The strong arms of the other man were still around him, at least the feeling of them. But with every inch of distance between both of the men, Bucky felt the warmth of the touch disappear, and he regretted even letting go of his boyfriend. But he had to; he had to let him go so at least Steve could be happy and live the life he wanted while he left Bucky with no more faith in love.

You were standing a bit away from them, watching your best friend literally break while he watched Steve. Your heart was aching, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and give him the comfort he needed, but you also didn’t want to embarrass him because he was crying and shaking from the pain he felt.

So, you decided to walk over to him and try to give him as much comfort as possible without jumping around his neck with a blanket to wrap him in it and keep him protected and warm.

“Hey, Buck,” you greeted him with a soft smile. His eyes were stuck on the other man, watching every muscle moving and the way his hips swung. You followed his eyes, your smile turning sad, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart shattering.

It’s not that you were in love with Steve; of course he was a good friend. But you know for Bucky he meant the world, that Bucky thought he found the love of and for his life in Steve. Still, he has to watch the person he used to love more than everything, leaving for a life Bucky couldn’t give to him.

You noticed the tears rolling down Bucky’s cheeks; his breath got heavier, and you could almost feel the way your best friend broke from the inside. The deep blue eyes were suddenly so empty; the smile that was always across his face was replaced by a thin line of his lips. The sweet scrunch of his nose that always got everyone’s attention was now replaced by the tears that were quietly falling down his cheeks.

“W-why…?” Bucky asked, his voice only a hoarse whimper. The self-doubts were crashing down on him like the heaviest building ever. Maybe he wasn’t enough; of course he wasn’t. Would he be ever enough for Steve, then he wouldn’t have decided to travel back to have a life with a woman — without Bucky. “Why doesn’t he love me?”

You swallowed thickly; there was no simple answer for that. You didn’t even know if Steve loved Bucky or not. With a soft sigh, you looked at Steve, then at Bucky, and took another step closer to him. “Sometimes… Sometimes love isn’t enough for someone to stay. But that’s not your fault; some people just can’t… they can’t appreciate what they get from another person. They think they can ‘do better’ even though they have everything they need. Sometimes it takes distance for one to notice that he was in the wrong.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up slightly. His eyes still on Steve as he placed the helmet on his head and stepped into the machine for time travel. “So, maybe he will come back to me… to us… to that here as the one he is now?”

The hope in Bucky's voice caused a cold shiver running down your spine. You really hoped for him that Steve would come back as the one he was. That he only needed to see that he loved Bucky and that he found everything in the man he could possibly find in someone.

But deep down, you actually knew that it’s not true. Steve wouldn’t be the one he used to be. But you weren’t sure; you didn’t want to break Bucky’s heart further, but lying and letting him think that Steve would be his old self? You don’t want to do it either.

“I-I don’t know,” you mumbled and watched Steve. He disappeared. Next to you, you noticed something — or someone — was falling down to the ground. Your eyes widened, and your heart shattered as the scream left his parted lips.

Bucky kneeled next to you on the dirty, cold floor, his eyes red and watery while he pants. It was his scream; it was his pain. He had to let go the moment the love of his life disappeared to live another life. He stared down; his hands were grasping the dirt under his fingers, and tears were falling down his cheeks.

“No…no…no…no,” he panted, repeating the words over and over again. His breath was heavy, and his eyes were unfocused. And then he started to shake his head; his eyes were wandering from the ground up to where Steve was standing and back to the ground. “Please… come back. St-Steve, please.”

You watched Bucky for a moment, considering whether to kneel down or give him a moment for himself. Your eyes were wandering over his shaking form, and when he started to repeat Steve’s name and begged him to come back, you got down on your knees as well.

“Bucky? I know it hurts, but Steve isn’t coming back,” you mumbled. You’re not sure what to say, but trying to hide the truth wouldn’t help Bucky either. “Can you look at me?”

Bucky swallowed, turning his face toward you. His eyes were red and puffy, his lips formed into a pout, and he stared at you with the most hurt expression you have ever seen on his face. He nodded, waiting for you to continue.

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be fine,” you said in a soft voice. You brought your hand to his soft, brown locks. Bucky relaxed slightly, the pain still visible, but at least he had someone who was there for him. You curled his hair around your fingers, stroking his neck softly. “Everything is going to be fine; you’re not alone. I know it feels like that; it feels like Steve took everything with him, but he didn’t. We’re still here for you, and you’re loved.”

Bucky nodded, leaning his head against your shoulder. His arms automatically wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer toward him. The brown-haired man’s fingers were digging into your skin, holding onto you to make sure you’re staying as close as possible to him.

“You stay?”

“I will stay. You’re my best friend; I love you, and I will give you all the hugs and cuddles you need, Buck.”

The days and the weeks felt so much longer and so empty without Steve. Bucky didn’t sleep much at all; he refused to eat and cared about anything but his letters. Since Steve left, he wrote a letter every day, putting all his feelings, all his pain, and all his love into them. Even though he refused to go out, he didn’t mind when you came over and gave him some company.

You sighed when you opened the door to Bucky’s apartment. The air was thick and stinging; you closed the door and walked further into the apartment. You got used to Bucky’s behavior, his less care for everything, but you wished you could help him.

“Buck? I brought some food,” you said as you looked through the door of his living room. His eyes were shooting up at you. He nodded with a slightly sad smile and held out his hands, curious what you got for him. “How are you feeling today?”

He shrugged, taking the bag and looking into it. “‘M not sure. Empty… cold?” Bucky’s voice was quiet, but he smiled softly when he noticed something you got for him. He took it and held it out of the bag, showing it to you. “I love these, my favorite chocolate.”

You watched him for a while before you walked through the room to open the windows and let some fresh air in. Even though Bucky tried to convince you to not clean, you always did it when you were there. Most of the time he even helped you, finding it easier to clean when he didn’t have to do it all by himself.

“When did you shower last time?” Bucky looked up, his face heating up as he turned his face away again. You sighed, knowing it was at least a week ago that he had a shower. “How about you get one yet?”

Bucky shook his head; fear was visible in his blue orbs. You furrowed, walking closer to him. He didn’t look at you, too ashamed to do so. Bucky’s breath hitched as you kneeled down in front of him and rested your arms on his thick thighs.

“Why not?” Your voice was sweet as honey. You knew it was the best way to talk to Bucky without making him more ashamed or making him feel worse.

“Becuase…” Bucky swallowed thickly. “What if I come back here and you’re gone?”

Your eyes widened, and your heart was beating faster. After Steve left, Bucky got more and more separation anxiety, but you didn’t know it would be that bad. That it would cause him to refuse letting you out of your view when you’re there — which you are around every day or at least every other day.

“I’m not going anywhere else,” you mumbled, drawing small circles on his thick. Bucky nodded, his eyes watering as he looked at you. His big hands moved almost automatically to yours; he placed them on top of yours and held them tight.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Bucky nodded at your assurance. He still refused to let go of your hands and move an inch, but he knew he had to take a shower at least. He didn’t even know why he still felt so low. Steve hurt him; he broke him, but he found something that’s worth living again. But whatever he tried, the thought of losing it made him curl into a little ball and feel the depression coming over him again.

“But… you stay here?” Bucky asked once again. You nodded, smiling at him before getting up to sit down next to him and giving him the room to get up. He sighed, his hands shaking, but he finally moved and got up to walk to the bathroom.

His eyes were darting between you and the bathroom, making sure you were still sitting on the couch. Your heart broke slightly about the insecure and broken man who used to be so happy and proud of himself. Someone who was never insecure about himself.

When he finally got into the shower, you started to clean his apartment. Starting with the trash that was placed all over the floor and surfaces. You then changed the sheets on his bed and opened the windows there as well until you reached the big pile of dirty clothes.

With a chuckle, you picked it up and ordered it to put it into the washing machine. You noticed a bunch of letters between some other stuff on the table; you listened to the sound of the running shower before taking them.

It wasn’t your best move, you know that, but you were curious who he was writing a letter — or a bunch of letters. You opened the first one; the first one made your breath hitch.

For Steve.

Your eyes widened, then they moved to the date on it; it was written one day after Steve left. You couldn’t stop the curiosity from boiling over and made you continue reading what Bucky wrote.

I miss you. I miss you more than I thought one could miss someone else. Are you coming back? Please don’t go away; don’t leave me.

You noticed the few patches of tears in the paper; your heart was clenching while you continued to read further through the letter. Bucky told Steve everything about the day he left — that he broke down, that you comforted him, that he couldn’t sleep, and that everything felt so hard. Bucky’s heart was broken, and he put it down in the form of words; even though Steve isn’t reading it, he could at least get it out of him.

Don’t leave me alone in this new world. It’s more than I can handle; it’s so new, so different from the forties. Please don’t leave me alone in this new and modern world.

Your eyes watered at the desperation Bucky probably feels every day. Even though you knew that things changed since the forties, you hoped that it wouldn’t feel that bad for Bucky. Reading those words made your heart clench in your chest, causing you to shiver.

I love you.

Bucky.

Putting the letter away, you took another one, curious what Bucky wrote later. It wasn’t just a letter from a day later; it was one around a month later. You opened it and stared at the first words Bucky wrote.

Hi Steve,

it still feels different without you. I still feel that something about me is missing. It hurts to think about you, and sometimes I still even hear your voice.

You stared at the words; it was different. Bucky wasn’t as desperate as he was before anymore. It still pained you to know that Bucky was suffering so much because of the man he thought he would love. But on the other side, you knew that Bucky felt better now, at least a bit.

I feel less empty; it’s less cold. But I am still mad at you. I hope you’re being happy, but it makes me insane to know that I couldn’t be the one who makes you happy.

I’m mad that you left me alone in the modern world by myself. That you went back in time, that you looked like you didn’t care about me.

Your eyes were roaming over Bucky’s words. His thoughts were all written down on a piece of paper — his anger, his hurt, but also that he loved Steve. You continued to read this letter before you took another one, the one he wrote last night.

You listened closely, the shower still running, so you inhaled deeply once more and opened that letter as well.

Curiosity was stuck to every fiber in your body; you weren’t sure if you should read it. You shouldn’t have started to read them at all because they were private. But on the other side, it was also important to see how Bucky was doing; those letters said so much more than he did. He didn’t like talking too much about his feelings, especially not about Steve. So you were letting your eyes wander over the words of the letter.

I found that girl; she’s beautiful and sweet. I never thought I could look at someone and feel that way ever again, but she made me see the world in a positive way. Her eyes shine like the sun, and her laugh is the most beautiful I have ever heard. She's the light in my nights and the one I can hold onto if I feel like I fall.

Your eyes widened as you read the words Bucky wrote down. There weren’t many people who were around Bucky; it was actually mostly Sam and you. So the only person he could mean was you, and a shiver ran down your spine when your stomach flipped.

Bucky may have fallen in love with you. It was a while back since Steve left him, and you knew about the way Bucky changed that he slowly got over Steve. Even though he was still sad about what Steve did, and even though Bucky didn’t get himself to take care, he also changed slightly into a bit more of a happy self.

I still don’t get my ass up; I don’t find motivation to clean and take care of things or even me. Except she’s around, then she helps me. You know her; she was the only person who helped me get up and who stood by my side when you left me in this modern world to live another life. And she never — not once — left my side since that. She is my strength; she is my everything.

You put the letter back on the table when you heard the door of the bathroom opening. Bucky walked with a towel around his waist into the living room; his expression was soft, and a soft smile played around his lips. You had seen him like that — without a shirt and damp hair — a few times before, but this time it made your knees buckle, and you were glad that you were still sitting on the couch.

Bucky walked closer to you, looking around as he noticed that you really cleaned for him. Then his eyes landed on the letters that were still on the table; one of them was open, and he gasped softly.

“Y-you know you don’t have to clean…” He said, his eyes still focused on the letter. Emotions overcame him: fear, happiness, panic, and love. “Did you read them?”

Bucky smiled softly as he saw your reaction. He knew exactly that you read them, and he even liked it. So he didn’t have to hide his feelings anymore, even though he was unsure what you feel, if you would feel the same or were going to be mad about it.

You nodded, watching him walk closer. Bucky took a short and a pair of boxers from the counter, pulling them on before he focused his attention back on you. His heart was racing, and his breath sped up slightly the longer he waited for an answer from you.

“A-Are you m-mad? I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it,” he breathed out, sitting down next to you on the couch. One of his legs underneath the other while he watched you intensely. “I… we can just ignore it… I-I just… I know you could think I just fell in love because Steve left. But I guess I just needed to realize that Steve and I never worked the way I tried to see.”

Bucky often told you about his relationship with Steve. He loved the other man, but Steve was still stuck in the past. And even though he tried to hide it, Bucky always knew it. The brown-haired man loved Steve a whole lot, but the moment the other was turned into a big, muscular man — Bucky knew that Steve wouldn’t be as much in love with him any longer. He finally got the attention he always hoped to get; he finally didn’t have to feel insecure anymore. As much as Bucky tried, he could never help Steve with his insecurities as much as the serum then did.

“I know,” you mumbled, resting your hand on Bucky's thigh. You smiled softly at him, running your fingers over his knee. “I’ve seen the way you changed after Steve left. I still see it and also how you act around me. And I’m glad I read those letters, and I’m also glad that you fell in love with me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, and he wasn’t sure if he heard right or if that was just the most amazing dream ever. His blue eyes were staring into yours, holding your gaze as he waited for you to laugh and tell him that you just made a joke. But the moment didn’t come; instead, you inch closer to him and had the most adorable smile on your face.

“Do you need me to spell it for you?” You chuckled and brought your hand to his cheek. You brushed your fingers over his soft stubbles. Bucky tilted his head, leaning more into your touch. “I. L. O. V. E. Y. O. U. I’m in love with you too.”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes still holding yours as you literally spelled ‘I love you’ for him. He inhaled deeply; it was shaky and slow, but the smile on his face only grew the more the words seeped into his mind.

“You really do? Like, in a way that if I asked you out, you would say yes? Like in a way that if I wanted to kiss you, you would let me?” He asked; he was almost stumbling over his own words. The thoughts were racing in his mind, and he couldn’t help but imagine your soft lips pressing delicately against yours.

“I really do. I would definitely say yes. And would you like to kiss me… if I would let you. How about you try and find out?”

Bucky grinned at you, leaning closer to you. “You know, you're my rock in every hard time. You’re the star that brightens up my day. You’re the sun that warms me. And even though I still have some trouble taking care of things and even myself. Never doubt my love; I may not be good at cleaning and all. But I know that I love you more than everything; you know that, don’t you?”

You chuckled and nodded. “I do know that you do. And I would never doubt your love, my clingy, precious boy,” you smirked at him, causing him to growl in amusement. “I do love you too.”

Without another word, Bucky leaned closer and pressed his lips softly against yours. His hands found their way around your waist, pulling you into his lap while he intertwined his fingers behind your back and held you close. Your hands moved almost automatically to his neck, pulling him closer until his nose brushed over your cheek.

Bucky growled into the kiss; his lips were moving softly and slowly against yours. It felt different, like every kiss or touch the two of you ever felt before — this one wasn’t just a kiss with someone you hoped to be with forever; this was a kiss that meant forever. It was the start of your journey together, the start of the most special thing you could have imagined.

“Buc-“ you interrupted yourself the moment you heard the voice of Steve coming from your shared living room. Bucky and you were happier than ever; you had a lot of dates, and after a while you even moved in with him. He was the sweetest man you have ever met, and he feels the happiness back inside of him. But now you had to listen to your boyfriend talking to his ex-boyfriend, to the man he used to love more than everything.

Your heart was beating faster, and you pressed yourself against the wall behind you, scared of what you were going to hear. Bucky loved you; the two of you had enough time and moments to fall deeply in love with you. But you never thought what would happen the moment Steve would walk back into his life because you never thought Steve would do that.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I don’t know what came over me or what made me do that. I should have never left; I don’t… I just don’t know,” Steve mumbled and ran his fingers through his hair. The hair Bucky used to love running his fingers through and playing with the strands of Steve’s hair.

Bucky shook his head. He inhaled deeply before looking straight into his ex-boyfriend's blue orbs. “I accept your apology.”

Your heart dropped when you heard that; a shaky breath left your lips, and you had to fight the tears that threatened to break free. This couldn’t be possible; Bucky couldn’t leave you, could he? You tried to stay as calm as possible, listening carefully to the conversation before freaking out or breaking down.

“So you come back? You let me come back? I missed you; it was all a big mistake. I never cheated on you; I just needed to see that you’re the one for me, I guess. Bucky, please give us another chance. I will be better this time,” Steve said, his voice pleasing, and you knew without having to look at him how he looked at Bucky. You wouldn’t blame Bucky for going back to Steve, even though it would break your heart. If it was Bucky’s wish to go back to Steve, he would never dare to be between them and stop Bucky from being happy.

“Guess you didn’t cheat, but you’re still a traitor,” Bucky said, his voice calm and shaking. He shook his head as he looked at Steve, who had tears in his eyes. “I wish that you had thought this through before I went and fell in love with you.”

Steve’s jaw dropped as he heard the words leaving his ex-lovers lips. “Buck… you-you can’t be serious. I love you; I always loved you.”

You noticed the shaking in Steve’s voice, and you felt almost pity — wouldn't he have been the reason for Bucky being down and broken after he left. You heard Bucky shuffling; he was probably grasping his hair like he always did and turned around. Bucky inhaled deeply before turning back to Steve. “Did you love me when she was sleeping in the bed we made? Don’t you dare forget about the way you betrayed me. ‘Cause I know that you will never feel sorry for sleeping in the bed with her, for kissing her, for looking at her like you used to look at me,” Bucky breathed out.

“I-I didn’t..” Steve gets interrupted by Bucky shaking his head. He didn’t want to hear more; he didn’t want anyone to destroy his happiness ever again — not even his ex-boyfriend. “Please, Bucky, I need you.”

“I’m sorry,” the brown-haired mumbled. He wasn’t sure to tell Steve about you, to tell him about the love he found and the happiness he feels again. “I can't, and I honestly don't want to. You broke me and.. I—“

“You what?” Steve asked in a dominant and angry tone. His eyes widened when he thought about a possible reason Bucky couldn’t go back to him. “No. Don’t tell me you… Bucky, no.”

You took a few steps back before you walked with a few louder steps to let them know that you approached the room. Steve and Bucky looked at you. Steve’s eyes were widened with shock and disbelief, while Bucky looked at you with a soft smile and brightened eyes at you.

“Babydoll,” Bucky smirked and held his arms open for you to walk closer to him. Your eyes drifted to Steve for a moment before you let Bucky wrap his arms tightly around you. He pressed his lips softly against your forehead, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his waist — which you did. “How was the meeting? Everything fine, or do you need anything?”

You smiled softly against his chest. Bucky was always so sweet and caring when it came to you. He always made sure that you had everything you needed and that you got whatever you wanted or needed. Seeing your smile and the love you gave to him made his heart swell, and he just couldn’t help but feel in love with you every time.

“Everything is fine. Just wanted to get a glass of water and ask if you have any idea for dinner today,” you mumbled before pulling back softly and looking at Steve. His eyes were narrow, and he watched the two of you intensely. Steve swallowed thickly when he saw the way Bucky hugged you, the way he kissed your forehead, and how sweet and loving he was around you. “Hey, Steve.”

He nodded, watching you walk toward the kitchen. His eyes were glued to you. Bucky cleared his throat, getting Steve’s attention. The smile on Bucky’s face turned into a like again when he looked back at Steve, who shook his head slightly.

“Are you fu— kidding me? How much do you pay her that you made me suffer like that? Do you want me to get on my knees to beg you to take me back?” Steve asked, determined to get an answer that would make it possible for Steve to get his ex-boyfriend back.

“I’m not doing it to make you suffer. I love her, and she loves me. When you left, I went home, I sat in the corner of the room, and everything reminded me of you,” Bucky said before taking a deep breath.

He didn’t like to hurt Steve like that; he didn’t want to hurt him, but he wasn’t in love with him anymore. Bucky found you; he found his babydoll, someone who would never leave him — for no one else.

“I thought about what could make you go back in time, and then I noticed. Peggy, the way you looked at her in the bar. She was the first woman who gave you attention. It didn’t matter that I loved you more than everything because you got the attention of a woman — a handsome and nice woman,” the brown-haired man’s eyes roamed over Steve’s face, noting the ways his lips twitched. Bucky knew he was right; he knew that Steve loved the attention he got from Peggy; no woman had ever looked at him like that before.

“That’s not… I mean, yes, but that’s not true. I do like the attention I got from her, but that doesn’t mean that I love you less. I do love you the same.” Steve growled; he was annoyed. Not about Bucky but about himself. Maybe a bit about you too, but the most he was annoyed and mad at himself. “You can’t just date someone else. You still love me, don’t you?”

“No. I saw you disappearing; did you hear my scream? She saw it; she fucking heard it. Did you ever think about me before or while you did it? I wrote a letter for you. Every single day. And the only thing I thought about was you being happier,” Bucky mumbled, staring directly into Steve’s eyes.

The other man swallowed thickly. The hurt in Bucky’s expression when he told him about the day Steve left. Or the love in his expression when he looked at you. Or when he kissed you, Bucky was so soft and lovely that Steve wasn’t sure if it was all a game to make him suffer or if it was true. But with every following word, he knew that Bucky fell in love with you and that he really loved you.

“My friends told me one day I'd feel it too. And I do; I finally do. I feel with her what it is to be loved — to know that she will never leave me like you did. I could have tried to smile and hide the truth when you left. When I thought I was happier with you, she would have seen because she always knows how I feel, how I really feel.”

“Bucky, you can’t be serious; you just can’t.” Steve breathed out, the realization that the brown-haired man is now happier with you hitting him. So he added in a softer and quieter tone. “But yes… you look happier, you do.”

The brown-haired man nodded, smiling softly. He felt sorry for Steve, but it was his decision to leave; it was his decision to go back in time to live another life. Bucky looked over to the kitchen where you’re standing with your glass; you watched them. When your eyes locked, you smiled softly, and Bucky couldn’t help but feel his heart beating even faster for you.

Bucky turned back to Steve before he smiled at him as well — it was less happy and not reaching his eyes but assuring. “I knew one day you’d fall for someone new. But that’s okay, cause I found someone who made me feel loved like you never could make me feel.” Bucky said, his eyes wandering from Steve to you and back to Steve.

The other man huffed; he thought Bucky would wait for him to let him come back so they could be happy together. “I hope she’s making you happy. But if she breaks your heart like lovers do, just know that I’ll be waiting for you.”

Bucky’s body tensed at those words. He knew that Steve was hurt and wanted to hurt him as well, but he also knew that he’s happier with you now. He found the love he never thought existed; you would never leave him, and you love him with every fiber of you. With all the words and gestures, the love and affection you give him, you show him that you mean it, that Bucky means everything to you — just like you mean everything to him.

“She isn’t a lover of mine. She is the other half of me. She’s my babydoll; she would never do anything that hurts me,” Bucky mumbled before leading Steve out of the house. Then he returned to you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you tightly against his broad chest.

“Thank you; without you, I would have never felt that love, and I would never have been able to be strong enough to say no to someone who betrayed me. My babydoll, mine, all mine.” Bucky pressed his lips against your neck, then your cheek, until he pulled you into a soft kiss. A kiss that said more than words could ever express — love and affection for eternity.

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[torturedtypewritersdept]

the proposition of a lifetime - b.b.

✯ pairing:

best friend!bucky x fem!reader

✯ summary:

you're not very experienced with sex, your skill are minimal at best and you know your boyfriend wants to do more. so what's a girl to do? go to her best friend for training, of course.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of sexual tension, detailed descriptions of a blow job in a car, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) this was written way back in early 2023 i believe!

Bucky heard the faintest of knocks against his mahogany office door and as he glanced at the clock, he realized his sweet girl was just on time. Every Thursday at precisely three pm, you came to see him and the two of you had dinner together. It was a constant in the busy and the unknown and there was no better person to help you with your problem than your best friend, right? 

“Hey, pretty girl. How was your day?” 

He stood from the black leather beneath him and rolled the chair away from the desk with the backs of his knees. He was dressed in black slacks and a white button down shirt. His day had been long, you could tell by the pale blue tie that was once around his neck laying draped across the back of his chair. He smiled at you and brought his arms open, gesturing for you to place yourself in between them – a proper greeting. 

"It was okay. Listen – I was kinda hoping you could help me with something.” you replied as Bucky ran his hands up and down your back. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood up, his mind immediately wondered if you were in trouble, his senses always heightened at the thought of danger, especially when it came to you. He pursed his lips for a moment before he traced your features with his eyes – you seemed upset, sad even; or was it embarrassment that coated your cheeks with heat? He couldn’t put his finger on it. 

"Tell me how your day was – for real.” He replied, keeping his tone neutral. "Then, I'll offer up my services, sweetheart.” 

You chuckled and rolled your eyes as he gave you that classic James Barnes smile – it was kind and coated with sexual appeal and it fit in with the creases of his eyes like a puzzle piece. 

“Okay – fine. My day was fine, Buck, nothing special about it. I’m just feeling insecure, I guess.” 

You averted his eyes, knowing he was going to give you some lecture about how perfect you are or try to kill whoever had made you feel that way. 

“What’s making you feel insecure, doll? Or, is it someone in particular? You know whoever it is, I'll kill them – just say the word.” 

His expression was stone cold, the same one you had seen him wear only in the face of the world’s most dangerous mobsters and criminals – just before he killed them. 

“You can’t kill my boyfriend, Buck.” 

Your tone was flat.

“Brad? Or whatever his name is? Of course, I can.” 

He snorted out, laughing as if he actually took your little comment seriously. 

“Doll, what’s going on? What did he do?” 

You threw your head back and your hands flew at your face, wiping down it roughly. 

“He hasn’t done anything, Buck. It’s me – the problem is me.” 

“Come on, doll – talk to me.” 

Bucky urged. 

"It's sorta... embarrassing." 

You replied, shyly, rubbing at your hands until they were white. 

"It’s just me – just Bucky, baby. You can talk to me.” 

He responded, grabbing your hands in his. 

“I mean, I've already talked to some of my friends about it, but they can't help me the way I want."

"Okay.” He said, wondering what kind of help she could need, ignoring his more perverted thoughts and his brain switching into protective mode, again wondering if she was in some sort of trouble. 

"Thank you, Bucky.” You beamed, bouncing again. 

This time, it was all he could do not to stare openly at the motion of your unrestrained boobs; gawking at your nipples that you hadn’t bothered to cover up underneath your shirt.

“It's my boyfriend, Brad. He's... he wants... well, what every guy wants. I'm not sure I'm ready, but I don't want him to dump me."

Bucky forced words out of his dry mouth, doing his best to ignore his growing arousal. "If you're not ready for something, don't do it."

"Yeah, I know. But I think I might be ready for, um, other things."

He only nodded in response in an attempt to hide as he was about to choke on his words. The girl he had been in love with for so long was actually talking about sex with him? 

"If your girlfriend wasn't ready for, you know... sex... what would have been enough for you not to look elsewhere?"

You almost whispered the word "sex," and your face took on a pink cast at the same time. Your apparent embarrassment, as well as a wave of protective feelings, aided Bucky in repressing what he knew to be inappropriate lust for his friend. He pondered how to answer her question.

"If he's pressuring you, he's not worth keeping, sweetheart.” He said, giving in to his protective impulses.

"You sound like my mom.” You pouted, arms crossed under your breasts. "What do you think as a guy?"

‘I dont blame him – i’ve wanted to fuck you for so long, doll.’ He thought, but he pushed it aside, attempting to craft an honest, but also responsible answer.

"As much as I could get, I guess.” He said, wishing he had come up with something else. "But I would be pushing you – or, whoever I was with." 

He quickly caught himself at the end of his sentence in an attempt to smooth things over enough where you wouldn’t notice what he had just said. 

"Did you ever get a blowie from a girl?"

It took Bucky a moment to understand what you meant, as he had never heard anyone refer to a blowjob like that before. Several more seconds passed before he could formulate a response.

"There was a girl I dated who... we explored each other in, um, several ways." 

He all but stuttered as he tried to speak, but he could feel his semi-erect penis as he tried to formulate a coherent thought. 

"But she went down on you, right?"

You questioned.

"Yes, she did. But she wanted to, um, explore. I would never have pressured her to do it." As the words left his mouth, he cringed at the truth they hid. He had not directly coerced the girl in question, but he knew she had felt pressure anyway. 

"And it was enough?" 

You asked him point blank. 

"It was more than enough.” He grinned. "But if she had not wanted to..." 

He trailed off.

"I don't know how to, um, give a blowie.” You spoke, suddenly shy and your eyes locked on the floor. "I want to... I mean, I want to make him happy and all, but... what if I'm not good at it?" 

You looked at him doe-eyed and full of anxiety and he almost busted right there – just looking at you.

"I'm not sure we should be having this conversation.” Bucky replied, immediately regretting the words as they hit your skin and hurt filled your irises. 

"But I need your help. All my friends, at least the ones who've done it, say guys will like it no matter what. Some of them gave me pointers, and I've watched videos on the internet too, but... I think I need to practice first."

Your fingers stroked his forearm. Shining eyes met his, and he saw a plea in them. But his mind could not accept what his body, especially his cock, already had.

"I've heard some girls use cucumbers.” Bucky said.

"I've done that.” You said, "But cucumbers can't tell me whether I'm doing a good job or teach me to do it better. I need a man for that. A man who I know is a good teacher. I need you." 

Bucky’s eyes almost popped out of his head at your response. He never in a million years thought that he’d see this day or that it would play out like this – you practically begging him to teach you how to suck a dick – his dick. 

"Y/N, I can't... we can't..." 

His objection was half-assed. 

"Please, Buck. I need your help."

You begged again. 

"Okay. But no one can know." His erection throbbed in his jeans at his words, and his heart hammered. Deep down in his mind, his conscience attempted to object, but he ignored it.

"It'll be our secret, Bucky," You squealed, before hugging him, your firm breasts pressing against his lower torso, your lower abdomen against his rigid cock. He hugged you back, stroking your soft hair, not thinking about any possible consequences.

"We can go to my house.” He suggested, breaking the hug. "Maybe use pillows from the couch for you to kneel on.” 

"Can we do it in your car? Brad has one, and that's probably where I'd do it with him."

Bucky hesitated, watching you chew your bottom lip as you waited for his answer. What you proposed made sense, but he suspected it would be easier for you to learn, as well as more pleasurable for him, if they were both comfortable. However, now that he was committed, he did not want to mess up the chance to be the first guy his sweet girl went down on.

"Sure.” He said. "It'll be a bit more awkward, but it will prepare you for later."

"Thanks," You beamed, giving him a kiss on the cheek before running around to the passenger side of the car. He watched your ass and wondered if Brad knew how lucky he was. Bucky didn’t have to wonder – he knew. 

Your cheeks were pink again as you sat on the bench seat and stared straight ahead, hands in your lap. For a moment, his guilt returned. Had you not pushed out your chest at that exact same time, Bucky might have backed out. But the sight of those firm, round tits encased by only your thin t-shirt proved to be too much. He buried his doubts and slid into the car.

"If we're parking, we need some music.” He told you, turning the key to accessory so the radio would come on. "Is classic rock okay?"

"I guess," you shrugged, still looking out the windshield rather than at him. That allowed him to watch your boobs bounce with the shrug.

He turned up the radio, took your hand as gently as he could, and moved it to the bulge in his dress pants. Your fingers lay there for a second or two before you moved them away.

"I'm not... um... can we make out first?" 

You questioned awkwardly.

"If you aren't sure about this..."

He started, but you interrupted reassuring him. 

"I'm sure, Buck," you said, interrupting and turning your eyes to him. "I just think I need to, uh... work up to it, you know?"

"Sure, doll," Bucky replied, running a finger down her cheek. 

He leaned close to you, smelling the scent of vanilla as he did, pausing for a moment to breathe you in. You moved your head back and blinked. He sat back up and patted the seat beside him. You chewed her bottom lip, then scooted next to him. He stroked your soft cheek again. You sighed and did the same to him. Your eyes never left each other's as he lowered his lips to yours. Any trepidation you might have been experiencing seemed to vanish the moment your lips met. You grasped the back of his head and pulled his mouth tighter to yours. His tongue pushed between your lips, only to meet yours. He grabbed your waist, pulling you around to face him. Your free hand traced up his forearm and his free hand clutched one of your boobs. He marveled at the combination of softness and firmness. You moaned into his mouth when he found your nipple and lightly rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. He switched to your other boob and did the same thing. You moaned louder, which encouraged Bucky. Breaking their kiss, he grabbed the bottom of your shirt and started to lift it. He pulled the t-shirt over your head and up-stretched arms, mesmerized by your tits. They projected from your slender chest almost torpedo style, the tips capped with small, pink areolas and slightly darker nipples. Each more than a handful, he nonetheless did his best to grasp all of them as he dropped his mouth to one. Your fingers laced through his hair. You started to pull his face away, but reversed your effort as soon as he sucked your firm nipple between his lips and tongued it.

"Oh God, that feels good.” You groaned, pushing your chest out toward him. 

While he feasted on your magnificent breasts, he pulled your hand from his arm and into his lap. You hesitated, then your fingers closed around the length of his erection where it strained against the fabric of his pants.

"Your... thingy is very hard.” You whispered, your fingers tracing its outline.

"If you're going to suck it, you can say 'dick' or 'cock'," He told you, sitting up to look you in the eye.

"Your cock is very hard," you said, blushing. Still, your words were louder and more confident, and Bucky decided it was time to move their lesson forward.

"Take it out," He instructed, leaning his shoulders back against the seat.

Thin, soft fingers fumbled at the top button of his fly. Once you had it loose, you tugged, probably thinking that there would be a zipper. In what was probably less time than it seemed, you had his pants undone. He wiggled them down to mid-thigh, exposing his black boxer-briefs. Your fingers touched his dick through the soft cotton, and it jerked. You pulled your hand away a couple of inches and gasped, eyes darting up to his. He nodded to encourage you. After a deep breath, you ran your fingers up his length. This time, you did not stop when it moved at your touch.

"I've only felt Brad’s through his jeans. It's softer than I thought it'd be. But hard too. Really hard." 

You commented.

"Do you want to see it?" Bucky asked, and you nodded, eager eyes not leaving his crotch. 

He considered telling you to pull his briefs down, but he didn't want to wait. He freed his erection, which sprung straight up. You drew in a sharp breath, then touched his shaft with trembling fingers. His cock jerked to the side, but you never lost contact.

"Wrap your hand around it," He instructed, and you obliged. He groaned, fighting to keep his hips from thrusting up.

"It's bigger than I expected... and warm," you said, eyes meeting his, a grin on your face. "I didn't think... I mean, it makes sense but... this is... incredible." You gripped his dick tighter, squeezing it.

"Stroke up and down, doll.” 

You nodded then looked back down at his lap. Your fingers loosened and slid up and down the shaft a few times before wandering to the head.

"I love how soft the skin is even though it's so hard inside," you said before moving your thumb up the glans to the slit. "Is this cum?"

"Pre-cum." He said, resisting the urge to grab a fistful of hair and move your lips down to his crotch. "It leaks out when a man's hard."

"I didn't know that. So, when I suck your thing... your cock, it'll do that?" 

You questioned.

"Yes." 

He replied.

"Oh. Should I taste it now?"

"If you want."

You wiped up a glob of his fluid with your thumb and brought it to your mouth. Your tongue pushed out to taste it. A strange look crossed your face, and your gaze rose to his.

"It's... weird," you said. "Sweet and salty. And something like... soap? That's not it but...something..."

Shrugging, you sucked your thumb into your mouth, then pulled it out with a 'pop'. His cock twitched.

"Does cum taste the same?”

You questioned; intrigued with the idea of his manhood and just how it all worked. 

"Stronger, but similar." 

He responded, grinning ear-to-ear at your innocence and the part he was about to have in stripping it from you. He wondered how long it would be before you needed to ‘practice’ having sex before doing it with Brad – there’s nothing Bucky wanted more than to be your first everything. 

"I think I like it," you grinned. "But it's different than I expected. My friends who've tasted it said it's bitter or sour. But it's not." 

You commented.

"I think it's time for the next step." 

He said with a sly smile. 

"What should I do?" 

You questioned, awaiting his instruction.

"Kiss the tip."

You nodded, licked your lips, and leaned down into his lap. Your lips brushed the glans of his cock once, tentatively. The second time was surer. The third, you wrapped your lips around the very tip and sucked. His dick twitched in response, and you did it again. Bucky wanted to tell you to take more, but he saw that your position might be too awkward.

"Scoot back a little and lie on your tummy on the seat, doll.” He told you, and you complied, knees bent so your calves and feet stuck in the air. 

The change in position left your face hovering over his groin, and he nudged you downward. You took the hint, and seconds later, you slurped the entire glans of his penis in your mouth. He groaned, doing his best not to push harder on your head. He needed to let you do this in your own time.

"Move your tongue while you suck," He told you, and you wiggled it. "Yes... like that. Now take a little bit more down... watch the teeth.” 

You pulled up, alarmed eyes locking on his.

"Sorry..."

You trailed off.

"It's okay. It happens, especially for girls new to sucking cock. Try this, suck on your finger. Yes, like that. Now, scrape your teeth along it. It's a thousand times worse than that." 

You looked at him with wide eyes as you followed his instructions, apologizing again. 

"Sorry." 

"It's okay. But you have to make sure your lips protect a guy from your teeth. Here." 

Bucky took your finger, sucked it into his mouth, his lips moving up and down it. You shuddered, and what sounded like a disappointed noise escaped your parted lips when he removed his mouth from your finger.

"Now, you try," He said, holding out his index finger. You wrapped your lips around it and slid them to the base then back up.

"Good, now add suction."

You did as instructed, hollowing out your cheeks. He’d always liked a woman sucking on his fingers, and you were certainly no exception.

"Very good, sweetheart.” He told you a few seconds later. "Now add some tongue movement. Oh yeah, just like that."

You attacked his finger, sucking hard, lips sliding up and down its length, tongue wiggling. ‘If you could do that to a cock, you’d have boys eating out of her hand’, Bucky thought to himself. 

"Okay, now do the same to my cock," He said. 

You pulled your lips from his finger, grinned, and dropped your face to his lap, giving the tip of his cock a wet kiss. Bucky groaned, bucked his hips, and applied what he hoped was gentle pressure to your head. You didn’t resist, sliding your lips - no teeth this time - down a couple of inches of his cock. He groaned again. Slowly at first, you bobbed your head up and down, concentrating your efforts on the first third or so of his shaft. A few times, you took at least half of his almost seven-inch length, but much more than that caused you to gag and back off.

"That feels fantastic.” He told you, and you turned your eyes up to meet his. You held each other's gaze for several seconds, but your suction on his cock never lessened and your tongue never stilled.

"Try going faster," He suggested, and you nodded. 

Facing down again, you picked up speed. As you did so, the slurping sounds around his shaft grew louder. He ran his fingers through your soft hair, resisting grabbing a fistful and forcing you to go even faster. As it was, the tempo caused his novice cocksucker to take more in on each downstroke, and the times that you gagged increased in frequency as well. It was all as hot as hell, and sooner than Bucky would have liked, he realized he had reached the edge of no return.

"That's so good, doll, I'm really close. Concentrate near the head. Yeah, that's... wait... a little deeper... yes... perfect. Suck hard. God yes. Harder."

You sucked on the first couple of inches of his dick. You’d pulled up too far at first and slurped on the overly sensitive glans. But now your lips tightened just below, and your tongue massaged it gently. He shifted in his seat, groaned, grasped your head, and exploded. The first spurt of cum into your mouth must have taken you by surprise, because you sputtered around his shaft and attempted to raise your head. 

Bucky held it in place, however, his hips bucked with each shot and given that you did not struggle more and were not gagging, he figured you had adjusted and were swallowing it all. As it turned out, he was quite wrong. After the last little bit of cum dribbled out of his cock, he dropped his hands from your head. You bolted upright, lips clamped shut, panic in your wide eyes. Rivulets of mascara formed under your moist eyelids. Lower, cum seeped out both corners of your mouth, adding to the flow already running down your chin.

"Swallow it, sweet girl.” He instructed after a couple of seconds. You whimpered, shaking your head. 

"It's the easiest way, baby," he shrugged. "Otherwise, it'll just make a big mess. Well, a bigger mess."

You whimpered again, closing your eyes, and swallowing. It took two tries to get it all down, and you shuddered afterward. A drop fell from your chin to one sweet, young tit and started to slide along its curve.

"Show me your mouth," He said, adding, "wider," when you opened it maybe an inch. You did as he asked, and he saw a little white residue in a mostly empty mouth.

"Good girl," He said, patting your head. She gave him a weak smile and wiped her eyes. Another drop of cum joined the first on her breast.

"Here, I'll help," He told her, using his finger to push some of the cum on her chin up to her lips. The girl hesitated, so he thrust his messy finger into her mouth. She closed her eyes and sucked his digit. He fed her the rest in the same way, finishing up with the two drops that had made it to her chest. After a few moments you looked at him, settled back into the passenger seat and gave him a smile, lowering your hand to his thigh. 

“Thank you, Buck – I owe you one.” 

He smiled in return. 

“So what’s your plan, doll? Are you going to use all these new skills on that pathetic excuse for a boyfriend?” 

He asked with a teasing scoff at the sound or more so the idea of Brad and you being intimate – it made him shudder. You rolled your eyes before placing his cheeks in your hands and brushing your nose against his. 

“Silly boy – I broke up with him two weeks ago.” 

You whispered before Bucky let out a giggle and eradicated the space in between the two of you, colliding into your lips with his. 

[greenorangevioletgrass]

fever pitch (b.b.) - part one

previous part | series masterlist | next part

soundtrack: bewitched - laufeypairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!readersynopsis: you and Bradley find a secret garden and get acquainted... or maybe you already have?warnings: language, tension, fluff, angst but hypothetical?? idk, bradley is a dreamboat but what else is newnotes: the saga continues! i had a whole outline planned out, but then as i wrote it, it turned into a beast of its own and honestly, im just an employee here 🤷‍♀️ happy reading, and please let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks! i would love love loveeee to hear it from you &lt;3

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“Are we even allowed in here?” 

You and Bradley turn a corner from the club area into a narrow hallway. There’s a door that leads outside, thanks to the little glass pane, you can see a little terrace situation outside. Bradley tries the doorknob… and it opens.

“I mean, there’s no sign that says we can’t…” Bradley shrugs, offering his hand to guide you in.

Like Alice in Wonderland, you step into a formal English garden in the heart of this complex of townhouses-turned-clubhouse. In the middle of the bricks and noises of the city, there are beds of roses and manicured hedges and ravines over a stone arch. It’s small, but very intentional even with the mosses growing on the edges of the fountain in the middle. A Dionysus statue sits atop the fountain, as if pouring wine instead of water. A nice touch to celebrate festivities.

“Wow. This is straight out of the old movies we talked about.” You marvel at your surroundings. “Like… The Sound of Music or something.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, exactly.”

Bradley starts humming My Favorite Things as you stroll your separate ways around the garden, marveling at the evergreen shrubs and colorful perennials. You eventually meet each other again right in front of the Dionysus statue. It feels like a sign from the universe for him, so he asks,

“May I have this dance?"

He can't be real, can he? "Like a 'dance' dance?"

"Absolutely." He says it with such conviction that it's easy to forget that the deafening, thumping electronic music from the club is completely shut out from your little pocket of a park. And the only semblance of music you can hear is the rustling of leaves, the trickling of water, and the fluttering memories of Bradley's velvety tone.

So you take his hand. He pulls you in and leads you into a slow dance. You were expecting to just sway, this is surreal enough as it is, but as you dance around the fountain, you slowly notice… the slow and simple rhythm, the unmistakable one-two-three, one-two-three count… This is a waltz step.

“You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I try my best.” In a swift movement, he twirls you away and reels you back in with a spin. He just prays to God or whoever is listening that you can’t actually feel his racing heart as he holds your back flush against his chest.

(You can’t. You’re too busy calming your own.)

“So… you and your friends celebrating the success at Wembley?”

His voice tickles the back of your neck, and this sudden closeness is too much for you to bear. You strategically turn around so you’re facing him again. “Oh, no. This is just my night off. I still have… three shows left here.”

“So how long will you be in town for?”

“Another week.”

“And after that…?”

“Paris.”

“Right…” he nods. “And home is in… Los Angeles?”

The question catches you off-guard for some reason. You know he’s probably just asking where you live, but something about the way he asks it makes it sound like he’s asking about… ‘home’ home. “Technically, yes.”

He makes a face. That’s a strange answer… “What do you mean, technically? I’m sure you must have at least one home base somewhere, right?”

“I do, yeah.” You smile sheepishly.  “LA is my home base. But… it’s not like I have any emotional attachment to the city or anything.”

“Where’s that, then, if not LA?”

You give it a good thought… but you got nothing. “I don’t know. Ask me tomorrow.” Maybe it’s the romance of the setting—although his warm hazel eyes play a crucial role too— it makes you feel more inclined to be more honest than you usually do.

Bradley smiles. He’s so fascinated by you, but at the same time, he has an inkling that he might need to solve a few puzzles himself before you let him in. And he would gladly take his time to get there.

At the same time, slow-dancing to a hummed classic with this man away from a modern-day nightclub… It makes you wonder what kind of person he is. “And you? You’re an American in London. Where’s home for you?”

“Well, I think Virginia will always be home, but this place has really grown on me. I’ve been here for most of my adult life, and this city, the team, the people… I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

“Virginia, huh?” you smirk—imagining him growing up near the water, a sunkissed teenage boy shooting the shit with his friends.

“Yes, ma’am. Born and raised.”

It’s only at this moment that Bradley is so much like this garden. Seemingly out of place, frozen in time while the world moves all too fast around it. But at the same time, perfectly placed, a calm in the eye of the storm. Just for this little pocket of a park.

Just for you.

“Are you normally this… Southern gentlemanly? With the suit and the sweet disposition and the waltz…”

“Honestly? Not really.” He admits bashfully. “But, I don’t know. I feel like I’m in another era with you right now.”

“Oh?”

Bradley doesn’t elaborate right away. Instead, he asks you, "Do you believe in past lives?"

Your face lights up, and he knows he just asked the right question. "I don’t know. Do you?”

"A little…" he nods, thoughtful. "Maybe not in a religious sense where you die, you get judged, and then come back as a... worm or whatever. But.. I kinda like the idea that... no one is ever really a stranger, you know? That our paths have crossed at some point."

"And you're saying we've met before?"

"Oh, yeah." Again with the conviction, this motherfucker. 

“Really?” You step away from him, entering a more cerebral dance than the one that you just swayed into. Your fingers barely touch the surface of the water on the fountain, and ripples it over as you walk by. "Where do you suppose we have met before?" 

He looks up at the sky, moving clouds and all, pondering his answer. "I was thinking the 40’s and 50's—you know, the Golden Age. But I think it's a little earlier than that, don't you think?" 

"Like... the Roaring Twenties?"

“Yes!”

His enthusiasm amuses and fascinates you endlessly, and you never needed much to fuel your active imagination anyway. "I like that. I can see you as... a former pilot who fought in World War I. And then went on to become a poet. Or a pianist."

"I think I'm better off as a pianist.” He’s not very good with words—he’s much better plunking the ivories to get the party going.

"Fair, fair. A jazz… pianist, maybe?"

"Ooh, interesting." Bradley smiles, picturing it in his head. "And what would you be?”

"I don't know. You tell me." You lean back against the stone arch, looking at him expectantly. His answer will determine how he sees you and thus, how you feel about him. And you want him desperately to have a good answer.

"I wanna say... the starlet, or the mysterious singer—" 

"Oh, come on. Even in my past life, I'm still a singer? Can't I be something else?” You groan in protest.

He chuckles, settling right across from you. "Okay, okay..." he looks at you deeply, pensively for a moment. "You're one of those socialites, who drank martinis and danced the Charleston until morning."

"Makes sense. I do love martini... and the Charleston." 

"Right? You'd be one of those girls who rebelled against daddy dearest and partied all night, maybe broke a few hearts along the way."

"Including yours?"

“I don't know. You tell me."

Now it's your turn to pause and take a good look at him. You try to picture it; how boisterous and bright he must be, getting the party going by playing ragtime or samba. And you try to picture toying with his feelings; those irresistible hazel eyes watching you longingly across the room as you give some random man time of day for no other reason but to spark his jealousy... 

"Nah. I think yours is the only one I didn't break. Not on purpose, at least,” you conclude definitively. The thought of leaning over the piano, sipping on cocktails while he croons out some love ditty—or sitting on his lap while he teaches you a Christmas tune at a holiday party seems way more appealing.

"What do you mean?”

"Well, you said so yourself about daddy dearest. He wanted me to marry one of his business associates, an heir to a shipping company or something.” You cheekily stroll past him, down the little path towards the fountain again.

Bradley smiles knowingly, just a step behind you. "Ah. And I'm just a lowly little pianist. What chance did we have, huh?"

You halt your steps and turn around to face him, a mischievous smirk on your face. "Would you have fought for me?"

To your surprise, he meets your gaze with a soft, unwavering look. "Without a doubt. I would have stood up to your father and told him that we were meant to be together, come hell or high water."

The phrase echoes in your head. Come hell or high water. It’s so loud, it sends you reeling and you had to sit down on the edge of the fountain. Suddenly the image of a screaming match flashes so clearly in your mind. Bradley's hand gripping years for dear life. The shallow sobs under the suffocating constrict of your dress. The tears blurring the sight of him leaving…

“But it didn't work, did it…”

He doesn't hear a question in your words —it sounds like a statement. And Bradley, ever the hopeless romantic, wants to say no. Of course it worked out, it had to. Maybe you ran away with him and lived a life of simple means. But it wouldn't have mattered, because it would've been full of music and dancing and love.

But the heartbreak in your eyes is so palpable, so...real. For a moment, it felt like the two of you actually lived it. You were just retracing the forgotten steps now. 

"No.” He shakes his head softly, sitting next to you. "We tried. We fought, but... we lost.” 

You know that, but it hurts to hear it anyway. Still, you can't help but continue the story. "I think I ended up marrying the businessman, do the right thing for my family. And let you go... play your music in Paris or something. Chase your dreams."

The life he imagined. Of simple means and abundant music... just no you. "I would have written so many songs about you..." he chuckles wistfully. As painful as it would've been to keep picking at old wounds, at least he would still have you in his life.

"I think I would've found your record eventually,” You pipe up, partly in self-consolation. Sure, it might be a stretch, but you're way beyond caring. You needed a piece of him, too. "And I would put it on every time I missed you. Which was every night."

The night is so still, even the leaves seem to give you a moment of privacy. Your little fingers barely touch on the edge of the bench as you sit and grieve for a tragic love story that never happened. 

Eventually, though, you take a deep breath and break the silence. "Fuck. I could write a whole album based on that."

Bradley laughs at your sudden interruption, glad that you snapped him out of his reverie and brought him back to reality. "Yeah? I would be happy to help you brainstorm." 

You throw him a look. It feels weird to return to this point of acquaintance after feeling like you’ve gone through lifetimes with him. But you’re glad to start anew in this life. "Is that your roundabout way of saying you wanna keep seeing me?"

"Maybe. Is it working?"

"I don't know. I don’t do maybe’s. You should ask me for real.”

Holy fuck. He closes his eyes for a moment as his heart skips. You always seem to keep him on his toes, do you? "Alright. Can I see you again? Maybe take you out to dinner?" 

"I would like that. Does tomorrow night work for you?" 

"Perfect." he beams at you. Fuck playing it cool, he just won himself a date with you.

"We should swap numbers so we can figure out the details.” You reach into your purse to grab your phone. And then, something dawns on you, making you smirk devilishly at him, "You wanna put your number in, or would you rather give me that friendship bracelet I heard you made for me?"

Bradley stops dead in his tracks. Of course that public declaration was gonna bite him in the ass. He was doing so well, dancing and talking and making an actual connection with you...gosh, he must've looked stupid right now. "You knew about that?" He grimaces.

"Of course. I have eyes and ears everywhere, " you sling coyly, letting him punch his numbers into your phone with great embarrassment. "That, and Natasha might have sent me a post on Instagram.” 

He sighs in defeat as he hands your phone back. "Goddamn it, Natasha…"

[persephone11110]

To Be Loved | B.B + J.S

T/W: 2+1 fic, past abusive relationship, hurt|comfort, cheater bradley, self esteem issues, dub con— sexual assault the reader never in the right headspace, coercion— bradley emotionally manipulates the reader into having sex bradley pulls the reader hair, he also chokes the reader despite her knowing she doesn’t like it , no aftercare, kissing but its fluffy, pre-top gun maverick, allusions to jake childhood

Summary: Two times Bradley makes you cry and one time he doesn’t.

important note: this fic is heavily about abuse, which can be very triggering I think I put a trigger warning for everything but If I haven’t please tell me. - PLEASE BE CAREFUL -

A/n: finally back with a fic i really wanted to a do a b.b x reader fic by im still on a Jake kick, so why not kill two birds with one stone?, also i wrote it pre- tpgm bcus i couldn’t figure out how to write jake being the boyfriend to his teammate ex girlfriend.

Word Count: 2.2k

—

one.

Its started a few days after celebrating another successful mission pulled of by the dagger squad.

You watched the brunette woman hanging off your boyfriend arm the entire night. Bradley spent his entire time in her face, laughing at her jokes—smiling at her when she suggests taking her home. “Remind me next time Rachel”. His words left a sour taste in your mouth after hearing them. Bradley says it with no hesitation— it rolls of his tongue so confidently that you believe he truly will do it next time. Little did you know that Bradley would stay true to his word.

You should’ve know better.

Past relationships taught you, you’d never be the woman men stayed for. Your the woman they leave for a prettier woman, a smarter woman— the woman who deserves to hang off their arm. Your the woman men need for a quick fuck—not an actual relationship. You naively thought Bradley loved you—that he enjoyed being with you.

Nothing would fix your relationship with Bradley, no amount of fucking— apologies could fix what you broke between you and him. If only you tried harder to keep him happy, to keep him. Why did you let her into you and his bubble— why didn’t you tell her off?

Probably because it been weeks since Bradley looked at you with a smile. Anytime you met his gaze he seemed so irritated with your presence. His jaw clenches whenever you go on for to long about your workday. There were more signs, weeks ago you stood in the mirror putting on his favorite lingerie set. Out of the corner of your eye, Bradley had been wrinkling his nose in digust.

You just wanted Bradley to be happy, hated being the reason of why he’s been so upset lately. You do anything to make Bradley happy again even if it meant him fucking another woman.

You get jealous when you find a newly bought engraved necklace in Bradleys nightstand. You’d been looking for extra batteries for the remote, you get startled by the perfectly wrapped necklace in the drawer. Running your fingers over the initials, small tears fall from your eyes. B+R— To be loved.

He bought her the necklace you asked for three christmases ago. You wanted to walk around with piece of him every where you went.

Sitting on the bed with the necklace dangling in your hands. Its a beautiful piece of jewelry for a beautiful woman— no wonder why he bought for Rachel and not you.

You slip the necklace back into its case, sliding it back into Bradley drawer.

“Darlin just your smile alone makes me want retire early”. He smiles into your hairline, “fuck”. he muttered, how Bradley supposed wake up in the morning and leave this gorgeous woman behind.

Bradley swore to you nothing whatever make him leave you, your body changing, pressure from his job—a woman.

—

two.

You don’t remember much of what happened. One minute Bradley has you forgetting your own name— making you screaming till your throat dry. The next minute your laying there in pool of your own tears, shivering with fear.

He pressed his hand down too hard on your throat. Bradley knows how much you hate any pressure being on it—“Me and Rachel do this all the time baby”.

“Just lay there and stay quiet baby”, Bradley shushes you and you can’t but stare in awe in at the affection hes giving you. For once your making him happy, for once its you on his mind instead of Rachel.

“B-Bradley?” your trying to lay still like he told you to but you can’t help the anxious feeling cursing through your veins when his grip on your throat gets tighter.

Can’t take a little pain Y/n?

“Baby stop whining, I know it been awhile but jesus”. He sighs, and you feel so upset at how pathetic you sound, he just wants to be happy and your not letting him. “Jesus Y/n stop moving”. he rolls his eyes at the sound of you whimpering.

Your face heats up in embarrassment, you weren’t good like used to be. You stifle the sob thats crawling up your throat threatening to escape.

Just stay calm.

Just stay quiet.

But you can’t, your vibrating with so much fear that it makes Bradley more angrier than before. “If your not gonna fucking stay still”, he hisses at you spit flying all over your face, “I’ll glady take myself over to Rachels”.

Your breathing picks up at the mention of her name, you don’t want Bradley leave again— you just got him back again.

You can’t tell if he’s touching you anymore.“Fuck Y/n”

The bed dips as Bradley crawls off of you, his footsteps are heavy with anger. You hear him moving around in the bathroom, the water turning on.

Bradley leaning over you staring at you with a confused look. You think he’s trying to figure out how to pick you up and take you to the bathroom with him.

But he isn’t.

He toss a rag at you, “I don’t want stains on the bed”, Bradley tone is harsh, he’s already walking back to the bathroom, he doesn’t stay to see if you give him a response. He doesn’t wait and see if your okay.

The sob you’d been holding back finally escapes, but it hurts when it does. You can still feel Bradley finger nails digging into your throat-it even hurts to swallow air.

Your skin hurts after you clean yourself with the dry washcloth Bradley gave you. You don’t have enough energy to stand and walk to the nearest sink and run the washcloth under water.

Your eyes must’ve been closed for a while

The bathroom door opens, Bradley standing in the doorway with his toothbrush in his mouth— shaking a towel through his wet curly hair. You meet his eyes and he seems so disappointed in you— you can’t do anything right Y/n.

He moves around the room, grabbing clothes from the drawer to make an outfit. You decide it best to lay there in silence— you can tell Bradley not in the mood to talk , especially not now.

When Bradley does decide to speak to you, he leaning aganist the doorway with his arms crossed over one another. You assume that he draws his eyebrows together at how disheveled you looked.

Your skin is paled and clammy- when’s the last time you’ve had water, food?

Your hair matted from Bradley pulling and tugging at it the entire time. Your scalp sore even when your trying to flip on the less sore side of your head.

“I’m going out Y/n”, his tone flat. Going out doesn’t mean spending time with Phoenix anymore, he’s missed months of Hard Deck nights. It means going to her house, laying in bed with her,fucking her.

He leans off the doorway walking away leaving you in silence. It sounds like Bradley almost stopped at the sounds of your sobs, like he almost cared that you were in pain. His footsteps become out of ear shot—your sobs get louder.

There’s no point of holding them back anymore.

—

three.

Jake Seresin can do alot of things without care, being asshole to his teammates— leaving them behind, picking up random women from the hard deck and having a one night stands.

What he can’t do is watch the love of his life struggle to believe that she’s capable of being loved.

“Just the thought of sex makes me uncomfortable”. Your head laying across Jake stomach, he running his fingers through your hair. “I might not be comfortable for awhile Jake, and if you don’t want that I suggest you—”. Jakes cuts you off, he presses a kiss into your skull, you began to fumble for words.

“Sweetheart”. Jake’s pushing himself from the laying position he was in, his head aganist the headboard. You can’t help but notice the flick the anger that passes through Jakes face , a lump fear settles in your throat-you can’t fault him for being angry at you.

“Did you really think I leave you just like that?”. You can’t tell if Jake really wants you to answer the question because he cares, or because he’s seconds away from hitting you. You figure its because he cares, since his jaw isn’t clenched, he’s not rolling his eyes at you and he hasn’t raised his voice yet.

“I’m sorry Jake”, tears glistening in your eyes—“I know you never would I-I don’t know, can you forgive me”. A couple of tears slide down your face, Jake raises his hand towards your face wanting to wipe the tears away. You almost flinch, forgetting that the man next to you isn’t him— the man next to you despite the rumors is the kindest man known to man, he would rather walk through fire than hurt you.

Its breaks Jakes heart to see Y/n look so distraught. Nothing will ever make Jake Seresin leaves his girl, not even death. He knows about his doll ex-boyfriend, he knows how much that asshole made Y/n feel so little about herself, Jake knew if he ever saw the son of bitch he throw his entire career away just to beat the shit out of him.

His Y/n comes first.

“Jake I-” you started.

“Baby”. Jake pushes himself off the headboard, pulling your head under his chin. “Gotta stop apologizing for things you didn’t do doll— I wish I could put my hands on the man who hurt you”. Jake laces his fingers into yours-“You shouldn’t be sitting here questioning my love for you”. Your head hangs low, your ashamed of yourself for thinking so lowly of Jake.

You can’t help it, he you told all the sames things just the words were different from Jakes. Its only a matter of time until Jake comes home smelling different, till he pushes you away– he can’t stand the sight of you.

Somehow you didn’t realized Jake had changed his positions again, his fingers under your chin forcing you to look at him. You and him hold eachother gazes neither one of you knew what to say to the other, Jake unsure of what to say afraid he’ll accidentally hurt your feelings, he seen what a abusive man can do a woman. Your afraid that whatever words that leave your mouth will push Jake into the arms of woman better than you.

“Thank you Jake”. you whisper, tugging at the dangling thread hanging from the hem of your sleeve. You hate being so insecure, its going to drive Jake away. At one point he’s going to grow tired of reassuring you every two seconds, grow tired of the no sex. He going to get tired of you.

Jake running his hand through your hair again. “Y/n you don’t thank me for loving you. If anything I should be thanking you for letting me in”. He sighs-your looking straight in his eye, and his expression becomes unreadable.“I love you - Y/n L/n, there’s nothing I mean nothing that will ever stop me loving you”.

You blush at how sincere Jake sounds, “I—”. your brain practically shuts down once you realize what Jake saying.

Jake forces himself to not show how frustrated he is, he isn’t trying to make his girl feel uncomfortable. It just angers him to know she has trouble understanding what he saying. Jake wonders what else Y/n isn’t telling him about her ex-boyfriend. What else did he do?

“Sweetheart don’t say it till you comfortable, alright Y/n?. Sorry got carried away reassuring you that I’ll never leave despite that negative thoughts in your head”. It was Jake turn to blush, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

God what did you do to earn a man like that?

Choking back a sob, Jake Seresin is the opposite of the rumors attached to him. You attack him like a koala bear, wrapping your arms around his back — legs around his lower back. He doesn’t lash out at you for the need of physical touch.

He’s whispering god knows what, at some point your loud sobs become quieter and your just sniffling. “Lemme grab the glass water Y/n, M’not leaving ya sweetheart”. Jake southern accent thick with emotion, he leans over to the nightstand grabbing the tiny glass of water. Pressing it up to your lips, “Drink it sweetheart you need it”.

Handing Jake back the empty you see how badly your tears soaked his sweatshirt. You feel bad and of course he notices your upset expression. “Sweetheart its fine, If you must know the navy hands out like candy- its a gift for being the best pilot”. He smirking by the end of that sentence and so are you.

Jake takes his thumb and softly wipes away the single tear falling down your face.“I love you so much Jake Seresin and I’m not saying it just because”. Your running your hands through his short blonde hair.-“You make me feel so loved and no one done that in awhile. Your great fucking man Jake”. You two smile at eachother- “Kiss me Y/n”, he whispers-your lips crashing into his.

Your kissing him all over the neck, his cologne smells like heaven— it feels so nice to be content with life, to be loved.

[tavolgisvist]

I think one of the most interesting things about Linda’s photography is her journey. She started off in Tucson with Hazel Larsen Archer – she happened to go to Hazel’s class who said, ‘Get yourself a camera, take some pictures and come back next week’. So, that was the first lesson and Linda found it a lot of fun. Then when Linda went back to New York and got involved in the music scene. She began taking pictures for music magazines like Rolling Stone and Crawdaddy. She would be at the front at a concert taking pictures of music she loved and was knowledgeable about. She once told me about the time she was taking pictures of B.B. King, whose music she adored. She felt very privileged to be in that position. Another photographer next to her was a guy who was sent along to take photos, and he asked Linda, ‘Who’s this? Who is it I’m photographing?’ And she had to tell him, ‘It’s B.B. King!’ Her love of music and photography really came together then. After we got married, her photography started to focus on family life with the kids, horses, countryside and landscapes. Whatever situation she was in she would use it for her art, and her craft naturally developed that way. At one point she heard about cyanotypes and became really fascinated by the whole idea of printing photos herself. She loved treating the paper haphazardly and the whole process of putting it out on the balcony in the sun to develop: she thought it was magic. So, I would say she was excited about all her photography, because it was her life. Q: Which artists from the 1960s had the most profound impact on Linda’s photography? Paul: I’m not sure it was artists from the 1960s, but before that Dorothea Lange was a favourite of hers. Linda’s tastes were formed by looking at artists like Walker Evans, Ansel Adams, Georgia O’Keeffe – she was a big admirer of O’Keeffe. Growing up she knew Willem de Kooning as her dad was his lawyer, so there was a family connection. Of course, she had studied History of Art in Tucson, although she confided in me that in those classes it was often a typically hot Tucson afternoon and they’d be in a little dark room watching a projection, so sometimes she might nod off. I imagine current students might relate to that, too! But anyway, Linda had a pretty wide knowledge of art. That was one of the things we both had in common when we first met. I was enjoying people like Magritte, which impressed her. One of my big show-off moments was asking, ‘Have you seen my Magritte?’ <…> Her family had a love of art, and there was a lot of art in her life from a young age. Her grandpa had come over as an immigrant from Russia and he was a bit of a painter. There was this family story that her dad Lee had a picture by her grandad up on the wall and a famous art connoisseur friend of his said, ‘I’d like to buy that, who’s it by?’ And he replied, ‘It’s by my dad and it’s not for sale!’ Anyway, the point I’m making is that art was always there. Her dad was a big collector of very good art and ended up being a lawyer to quite a few artists like Robert Motherwell and Willem de Kooning, so there were always great pictures around. I think that was a big influence. Then going to college in Tucson and taking the Art History classes. <…> It might sound simplistic, but if you’ve got a good photographer’s eye you will spot a good situation and a good bit of lighting anywhere. For Linda, it was often to do with the lighting, and our daughter Mary does it now as well. She’ll move you around saying, ‘The lighting’s better here,’ and she’s always right. <…> Linda was a very strong animal-lover, really strong – people will say, ‘Oh I love animals!’, but with her it was very deep. She had a kind of Disney-esque view of animals, so no matter what animal it was, it was ‘cute’. If it was a frog, it was a ‘cute frog’. If it was a beetle, it was a ‘cute little beetle’ – like me!

(Paul McCartney, Feb 2023, interview for lindamccartney.com)

[seefullforecast]

B.B The 100

Just a little excerpt from a potentially larger fic??

Stomping her way back to camp like a child, Amara was yet to stop crying. Very rarely did she get upset, usually she would do one of two things. Either lock herself away until the problem went away or try and use sarcasm as a form of defence. At the moment neither of those options were going to work for her. 

Since leaving The Ark she didn't recognise herself anymore. She was always crying, arguing with people or trying not to die. Everything felt hopeless. 

Every now and then she would kick a stone or purposefully stamp on a stick to try and take her anger out. In reality she wanted to hit something.

"Stupid Clarke." She mumbled between her tears. "Doesn't know what she's talking about." 

Her thoughts were scattered and her breaths were erratic. She stopped. She took a second to look up to the sky. She thought about the people on The Ark. She was down here so they could follow. It was everything her grandmother had ever hoped for. She touched the wristband she was still wearing and for a moment was grateful she still had it on. 

A noise in the near distance broke her from her thoughts. It sounded like a horn. Panic set in her blood. Immediately she thought grounders. That's when she took of sprinting through the woods. She didn't know if she was running away from something or towards it but her instincts told her to move and move fast. 

Her legs began to burn as she ran as fast as she could, pushing her body as much as she could. 

A flash of blonde hair crossing her path caused her to skid to a sudden stop almost falling in the dirt.

"Amara!" Charlotte shrieked.

"Charlotte?!" Amara was unsure why the girl was all the way out here.

"Move now! Go, Go!" Bellamy's booming voice came from behind the girl. He was also running. He grabbed a hold of the two girls and began dragging them in tow. The horn sounded again in the distance.

"There's some caves this way." Bellamy called back to the others as they all began to become separated. 

In a moment of stupidity, Amara glanced back to try and get a look at what they were running from. 

Clouds of yellow fog were following them and moving quickly. Amara watched as it engulfed Atom who was a little ways behind them. He yelled out in obvious pain and fell to the ground.

"Atom!" Amara tried to turn.

"Amara, Bellamy!" He cried to the two.

"We can't! Amara!" Bellamy had lifted the girl from her feet and forced her into one of the caves Charlotte had raced into as shelter from the deadly fog.

"Oh my god, Atom." She breathed in disbelief. 

"Get back from the entrance." Bellamy pulled her back to try and keep her from being burned. She looked up to him and nodded slowly. Bellamy took in her dishevelled state. Her eyes were red and her face was puffy.

"Amara!" Charlotte barrelled into the girls' side and wrapped her arms around the taller girl.

Amara took Charlotte's face in her hands and began to fuss over her inspecting her of any injuries.

"What the hell was that? Did it touch you, are you okay?" Amara spoke hurriedly and as softly as possible but was terrified and both Bellamy and Charlotte could tell. 

"We might be here a while, we should settle down." Bellamy placed a hand on Amara's shoulder to try and help Charlotte from Amara's pestering. The girls followed suit and made their way a little further from the mouth of the cave. Amara removed her jacket and wrapped it around Charlotte who lay down on the ground. The remaining two sat opposite each other with their backs leant against the cave walls. 

"What was she doing out here?" Amara questioned Bellamy after some time had passed.

He knew she was only concerned for the young girl but to him it felt gut wrenching to think Amara was somewhat judging his decision to allow the young girl to join the hunting party. 

"She was struggling having to listen to Jasper." Bellamy told her honestly. Amara just nodded. For whatever reason, Amara had become protective over the girl and almost felt responsible for her. 

"What are you doing out here? Alone for that matter, I thought I told you that the grounders..."

"I got into it with Clarke and was trying to get back to camp." She felt silly now about the whole ordeal as she thought back. Oh god, she hoped they were safe and that she could see them again to apologise for her little temper tantrum she pulled.  "Didn't really fancy staying with them longer than I had to." She confessed.

Bellamy nodded to her showing she didn't need to explain if she didn't want to.

Shortly the heaviness of todays events caught up to Amara and she was falling asleep as much as she tried to fight it.

"No!"

Amara's eyes shot open to the sound of a scream. She pushed herself from the ground and frantically looked for the source that awoke her. 

Bellamy was already by Charlotte's side by the time she had time to comprehend where she was. 

"Does it happen often?" Bellamy's voice was soft and unlike anything Amara had experienced first hand from him thus far. Charlotte had a nightmare, and from her screams it seemed distressing. "What are you scared of? You know what? It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is what you do about it." He told the girl who was already starting to calm down. 

"But... I'm asleep." Charlotte's voice was fragile.  "Fears are fears. Slay your demons when you're awake, they won't be there to get you when you sleep." Amara watched the Blake boy closely admiring his compassionate side. She could see now that it seemed like he was speaking from experience.  "Yeah, but... How?" "You can't afford to be weak. Down here, weakness is death, fear is death. Let me see that knife I gave you." Bellamy wrapped his hands around Charlotte's who held the knife.  "Now, when you feel afraid, you hold tight to that knife and you say, 'screw you. I'm not afraid.'" He told her pointing to the knife she now held.  "Screw you. I'm not afraid." Bellamy looked to the girl as if she could do better. She repeated the phrase this time a little more convincingly.  "Slay your demons, kid. Then you'll be able to sleep." Charlotte lay back down, most likely feeling much more empowered and a bit more relaxed to go back to sleep.  Bellamy returned to sitting across from Amara who was now fully awake watching him intently which he didn't miss.  "That was sweet." She told him truthfully.  He looked back to the younger girl who seemed to have dozed back off.  "Octavia is lucky to have you, Bellamy." He looked into her eyes. It was something his mother would always tell him. He was told Octavia was his sister, his responsibility and that nothing would ever change that.  "I didn't realise until you said something similar to Charlotte just now, but I remember." She spoke watching his eyes bore into her own. "You were the only person that spoke to me that day." Amara referred to the first time they met on The Ark when he was the janitor that found her crying at the window. "My mom, she had been sick for some time. For as long as I could remember actually. I knew it was coming that's why I was upset. She died that night." Amara opened up to him watching as he swallowed her words taking each one of them in, listening to each syllable that fell from her lips. "Nobody would look at me let alone say anything, it was suffocating." 

"I didn't know that was why you..." He slightly shook his head confessing to the girl.

"I'm not the best at all of this, it seems like every day Earth just really wants to put me through it, but you seem to be thriving. Earth suits you." She smiled to him honestly. 

"Thriving? I'm barely surviving." He choked a small laugh. "Between Octavia, trying to maintain order and avoid grounders I feel like there's not enough of me to go around." 

"You're doing good." She smiled to him tiredly. 

"Don't go all soft on me now sweetheart, it was only yesterday you tried to kill me with a tree branch." Bellamy tried to lift the conversation knowing neither of them wanted to continue down the path they were going. At least not tonight in this cave. 

"Relax you don't have a freckle out of place." She retorted as she lay back down on her side facing away from Bellamy. A few moments passed before she felt a jacket be draped over her bare arms. Bellamy lay his jacket over the shivering girl who had selflessly gave hers up for Charlotte. 

The two fell into a comfortable silence before Amara spoke up a final time with one last thought. 

"On a real note though." She began. "Would you rather be itchy for the rest of your life or sticky for the rest of your life." 

Like music to her ears, Bellamy laughed. He wholeheartedly laughed for the first time in a long time. He didn't need to answer Amara was happy enough with that as his response and was able to fall back asleep shortly after. 

[musicmags]

[readyforevolution]

Let's remember one of the Greatest Guitarist ever, Jimi Hendrix on the date of his birth.

Jimi Hendrix signature James Marshall "Jimi" Hendrix (born Johnny Allen Hendrix; November 27, 1942 – September 18, 1970) was an American guitarist and singer-songwriter. He is widely considered to be the greatest guitarist in musical history, and one of the most influential musicians of his era across a range of genres.

After initial success in Europe with his group The Jimi Hendrix Experience, he achieved fame in the United States following his 1967 performance at the Monterey Pop Festival. Later, Hendrix headlined the iconic 1969 Woodstock Festival and the 1970 Isle of Wight Festival. He often favored raw overdriven amplifiers with high gain and treble and helped develop the previously undesirable technique of guitar amplifier feedback.

Hendrix, as well as his friend Eric Clapton, popularized use of the wah-wah pedal in mainstream rock which he often used to deliver an exaggerated sense of pitch in his solos, particularly with high bends, complex guitar playing, and use of legato. As a record producer, Hendrix also broke new ground in using the recording studio as an extension of his musical ideas. He was one of the first to experiment with stereophonic phasing effects for rock recording.

Hendrix was influenced by blues artists such as B.B. King, Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Albert King and Elmore James, rhythm and blues and soul guitarists Curtis Mayfield and Steve Cropper, and the jazz guitarist Wes Montgomery. Hendrix (who was then known as 'Maurice James') began dressing and wearing a moustache like Little Richard when he performed and recorded in his band from March 1, 1964 through to the spring of 1965. In 1966, Hendrix stated, "I want to do with my guitar what Little Richard does with his voice".

Hendrix won many of the most prestigious rock music awards in his lifetime, and has been posthumously awarded many more, including being inducted into the US Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1992 and the UK Music Hall of Fame in 2005. An English Heritage blue plaque was erected in his name on his former residence at Brook Street, London, in September 1997. A star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame (at 6627 Hollywood Blvd.) was dedicated in 1994. In 2006, his debut US album, Are You Experienced, was inducted into the United States National Recording Registry, and Rolling Stone named Hendrix the top guitarist on its list of the 100 greatest guitarists of all-time in 2003.

[slavghoul]

First musical emotion?

TF: I grew up in an environment full of music, with a very open-minded mother who listened to a lot of pop and rock music and, above all, an older brother who was 13 years older than me. That's how much I was immersed in teenage culture as a child. I was 3 years old in 1984 when the glam metal wave invaded the airwaves and TV screens. These bands, like Kiss, WASP or Mötley Crüe, very strong visually for a child, attracted me irresistibly. And let's not forget Twisted Sister. I Wanna Rock is the track that remains the basis, the trigger for everything for me. A song that, at 3, 13, 23 or 43 years old, still has the same effect on me as soon as I hear it: to jump in the air like a madman.

First record bought?

If not Kiss, probably a Rolling Stones album. It didn't make much of an impression on me because my brother used to buy so many of them, so my money was mostly spent on Star Wars stuff. There are tons of bands I love, but I think the Stones are my favourite. Because they embody everything I love about rock, even though they weren't as sophisticated as the Beatles or Pink Floyd. Between 1967 and 1972, in their darkest period, nobody did it better than them: they had the look, the attitude, the style and, on top of that, the songs! Let It Bleed is incredible, with songs like Midnight Rambler and Live With Me. As much as I admire technical singers, virtuosos of harmony, Jagger remains unique. I've never tried to imitate him, but as a performer he is the absolute model.

First concert of note?

My brother used to take me to see local punk bands at a very early age, but I remember B.B. King most of all, when I was about 5 or 6, with my mother. It was a jazz festival, outside in the courtyard of a castle, a very cool atmosphere. As soon as B.B. King started playing, there was electricity in the air. Everyone got up and started dancing, I was blown away. And as I was the only one of my age, I could move around freely, so much so that I found myself in the backstage, in front of B.B. King himself! He invited me into his dressing room: "Do you play the guitar?" - Yes! - so don't stop!" And I took his advice. Even though I sing on stage, the guitar is still my favourite instrument, the one I play and master the most.

The band that best managed to avoid the pitfall of the image taking precedence over the music?

Kiss, unfortunately, was far from being up to the task musically. Alice Cooper, after two minor first albums, went on to make four incredible albums with the original Alice Cooper Group. Above all, he made a phenomenal comeback with Welcome to My Nightmare in 1975. After that, the show took over... The band that managed to stay straight and dignified, without compromising the artistic quality of their work, is undoubtedly Iron Maiden. All of their 80's production is impeccable, and if they had a slump in the 90's, they came back even stronger with the return of Bruce Dickinson, and have been going strong for twenty years! Their work ethic is exemplary. With Ghost, we take up Phantom of the Opera, one of my favourite tracks from their early period, and one of the few where I felt we could add a little something to it.

Best punk song in the world?

There are so many, because I was also brought up on the sounds of the Pistols, the Ramones, the Dead Kennedys... But as a kid, I never got tired of listening to The Great Rock'n'Roll Swindle again, especially the sequence where Sid Vicious sings My Way. His version is one of my favourite songs of all time. What could be more awesome than to see a guy slaughtering this standard while doing the same, shooting the shit, with the audience that came to see him! It was like the ultimate middle finger, and it made me happy, and it showed me the way.

The band that remains the grail for you?

Queen, because the show side, the big show, is the ultimate for me. In the early 70s, my favourite musical period, there were no big shows yet, like the Stones started doing afterwards. Queen is the same. Of course, their best albums are from the 70s, but the peak of their career for me is the Wembley concert in 1986. Magic wasn't a great record, but the show was breathtaking, dantesque, with a repertoire as vast as it was delirious. If Ghost could ever come close to the 1986 Queen, I would be delighted.

The greatest Swedish band?

ABBA, of course. No one will ever be able to stand in their way. The Beatles are the monarchs of English rock, ABBA the monarchs of Swedish pop. Björn and Benny are national heroes. I found myself at a huge, formal party when Benny suddenly sat down at the piano and started Thank You For the Music. There was silence in a second. This guy is a monument. You can't imagine what ABBA has done, not only for pop music, but also for Sweden and the Swedes. This band proved that you can move mountains.

Which Ghost song are you most proud of?

Cirice, probably. I often write my songs by singing into my phone a melody that is in my head. We were about to finish the album Meliora. And the co-producer tells me that a really heavy and powerful track is missing. I tell him I have this heavy, heavy, macabre sounding tune with a long intro and a crushing riff. He suggests I tweak it while he goes for a run. When he came back, I had written a chorus, lyrical, catchy. It wasn't the leaden track he was hoping for. But it won us a Grammy!

The most evil band?

Certainly not Mercyful Fate, as one might imagine. They, like most Norwegian death metal bands, more or less satanic, are the most charming guys I've ever met. They seem more like nice teachers than evil creatures. The scariest band is probably Von, a mythical American black metal band from Hawaii. These guys were really scary, with their terrifying size, they looked really dangerous. But I think the evil is mostly on the side of those who pretend to defend the good. For me, the most evil and unattractive musician is Ted Nugent. He's pro-life, pro-hunting, and claims he's only fighting for freedom. But the world he defends is about as free and tolerant as Vladimir Putin's. I refuse to listen to him.

[allthedesiredusernamesaretaken]

... sound of rebellion ...

Born on this day 99 years ago, the great blues and rock figure B.B. King, a guitar master with his own style. He gained the nickname "Beale Street Blues Boy", which was later shortened to "Blues Boy" and finally to B.B. King. He was a major influence on Eric Clapton and Rolling Stone magazine placed him behind only Jimi Hendrix and Duane Allman in its list of the 100 greatest guitarists of all time. I was lucky enough to enjoy his fantastic guitar play on concerts.

[overthestars-and-offtoneverland]

Mythological Creature AU: Part 2

Okay, going off this post.

So the Unfortunate Gen is really the first one with a lot of hybrids. Occasionally you'll see a few in SBG, but the SBG is the really the first generation that was doing the whole interspecies relationship thing.

Their offspring tend not to show nonhuman traits until they’re 13 unless triggered somehow.

In this AU, along with V.F.D as a whole, the Baudelaire children would be completely unaware that they're nonhumans until they slowly figure that out, having their first transformations within the story. Beatrice and Bertrand kept their wings hidden.

Olaf absolutely freaks them out the first time he shapeshifts. They have to get used to Monty's tail and the fact he can literally talk to all his reptiles. They get paranoid every time Josephine screams, etc.

Duncan and Isadora are their first nonthreatening first impression of nonhumans. Mostly because they were a lot more eased in to it.

Note: Hybrids don't have perfect genetics. They can get features from one creature much more heavily than the other.

Ex. Say a Vampire/Siren (Not to be confused with Sirin) Hybrid exists. They may look much more aquatic and only really have the fangs from the vampire parent. You know, like how real genetics get screwy.

So....

The Unfortunate Gen:

Violet: Angel/Sirin Hybrid (Violet is a late bloomer, hence not knowing her parents were nonhumans. Unknown whether her parents used magic to suppress her transformation. She grows her wings after being triggered by the stress of the events at Heimlich Hospital)

 Klaus: Angel/Sirin Hybrid (Klaus actually grows his wings before his sister does, his first transformation happening shortly after his thirteenth birthday as is traditional)

Sunny: Angel/Sirin Hybrid (Sunny is an incredibly unusual case as almost no Volunteers have been known to take their true form so young. However, during the events on the Mortmain Mountains, her insistence that she is no longer a baby is punctuated by her sprouting a small pair of wings to match her siblings!)

The Quagmire Triplets: Gargoyles (Creatures known to shift from flesh to stone, though this takes great concentration at a young age. Have wings but only in stone form. Known to be incredibly protective of loved ones)

Carmelita: Human (For now. Too young to know her true form if she is a nonhuman. Possibly slowly transforming into a Changeling due to being stolen by Esme)

Fiona: Selkie w/ Prophecy (Yeah, I do like the theory that Miranda is Fiona and Fernald’s mother. Thank you for asking. Since Oracles only pass down magic, Fiona would be the same, or similar, species as her biological father)

Friday: Human (For now. Too young for her true form and her mother passes for human. Starting to see flashes of her gift of prophecy. Can easily speak to Ink due to being a latent Tannin.)

Beatrice Baudelaire (B.B.) Snicket: Human (For now but believed to be an Algea hybrid. Though, the other half is up in the air.)

Obviously Olaf doesn't realize the kids don't know they're hybrids at first by the way. He openly wonders where the hell Violet's wings are.

Imagine him openly making an awful comment to Violet about her mother clipping her wings and not meaning it metaphorically.

He sees putting Sunny in a bird cage as funny rather than really dangerous because "C'mon her dad's a bird thing!"

And scariest, when he's about to drop Sunny.

"If you're so worried about her, just fly."

Again, any input is welcome.

Hope you enjoyed my mad ravings.