#but I kinda like how I drew England here---

[hetalian-veteran]

Art Styles I Personally Think the Hetalia Characters Looked Their Best In (and Why) Part 2

Link to Part 1, Link to Part 3

Please note that I am referring to the show and not the webcomic. This is primarily because I didn't always have access to the webcomic and thus the show is what I've always been most familiar with. I will also refrain from talking about characters that have only appeared in one season.

Also, please keep in mind that these are just my opinions. And if you have any different ideas of what designs looked better, that's totally okay. At the end of the day, I'm just here to have fun.

America: Seasons 1-4

It was kind of hard to choose which design was best for America, seeing as they are all very similar to one another while also having different qualities that I liked. But I ultimately settled on the one from the first four seasons. I adore the WWII bomber jacket, as well as how the character in general was animated back then. Not to mention that the older art style just fits him so well. A lot of Americans have an "if it ain't broke don't fix it" attitude about things, so I find it fitting that, at least in my opinion, this also works for aph America. He looks great everywhere else, but I won't deny I have a nostalgia for the original. This was an exceptionally close tie with his design for season 5. Not to mention I once drew aph America fanart for an art project in middle school and got an A on it.

England: Season 5

Okay, I'm gonna be real here. This all came down to the eyebrows. Well, not entirely, but it definitely played a large part. I never had a problem with England's design in seasons 1-4, but those eyebrows though. They were so distracting. I understand wanting to give characters a prominent feature that makes you go, "Yep this is (insert character here)." But I think England's eyebrows were too overdone in the previous seasons. However, I also believe they were far too thin and lightened up in seasons 6-7. Season 5 had a good balance. Not too thick but not too thin. Also, I feel like his facial structure and design made him look kinda weird in season 7.

China: Season 5

So... I'm gonna be honest here. All of the other designs for China make him look like a young girl to me. Yes, he still looks sorta feminine in season 5, but not like he appears in seasons 1-4 and 6-7. In season 5 he actually looks more like an adult man to me. Not to mention his hair. Because holy crap that is some of the most beautiful hair I have ever seen put to animation

Russia: Season 6

This was a close tie between all his designs, but it ultimately came down the hair. Yes, I know, I talk about the characters hair a lot. But that really was the deciding factor for Russia. All his designs look great in that the long coat and vertical lines throughout give me the impression of a Russian nesting doll. Now, whether that was intentional on Hima's part or not, I cannot say. But it's a cool detail that I always notice whenever I see him. When it comes to his season 6 design, I like not only how innocent he looks (which is an important part of the design Hima intended from the beginning), but that his hair has some more fun detail too it. It looks so soft and fluffy, not like the previous designs that made it look like he had water dumped on his head.

France: Season 5

What can I say about this design that hasn't been said already? The only other character who had a bigger glow-up than France was Spain (who you can see my opinions on in a previous post). Literally everything here is an upgrade from his design through seasons 1-4. His hair looks so silky and soft, not like that yellow plastic we had earlier. Also, the hair ribbon tying it back looks so elegant and refined, fitting perfectly with the character. I also love the small detail of the ribbon being the same color of his eyes. It's a nice touch. His outfits this season are great as well. They are very simple, but still elegant, with soft, curved lines and balancing both warm and cool colors. Especially in his outfit during the Joan of Arc episode.

Canada: Season 5

I think I'm starting to have a favorite season in terms of character designs here. Canada just looks his cutest here, primarily because of his outfits. He has one of the most adorable and cozy wardrobes this season, and I want to raid this man's entire closet. I love the flannels and cozy jackets and hoodies that he has. As someone who grew up most of her life in northwest Montana (which, if you ask the rest of the US, is basically just lower Canada), I think I have to be a little biased here. Canada's design gives me the feeling of home in a way, and this is definitely a wardrobe that I embrace for a time growing up.

Austria: Seasons 1-4

The hair curl in his cowlick hits harder here, just getting that out of the way. There's more of a curl to it, which is more reflective of Himaruya's art style. And even though his wardrobe in the latter seasons is great, this one all around looks better to me. I like the royal blue lined with the deep red. And the cravat is just a fabulous detail that I love. Now that I think about it, everything about this design just feels very Himaruya. Like, this is one of his best character designs. There's also the placement of the mole on the bottom right-hand side of his face. In other designs, it's not as prominent. But here it's easier to see. I feel like it makes the design all the more unique.

Hungary: Seasons 1-4

THIS. This design for aph Hungary is top tier, and nobody can convince me otherwise. Something that has always intrigued me about Hungary is that she was raised primarily around men. So much so to the point where she saw herself as one growing up. But when she got older and realized she was actually a woman, she ended up adopting more feminine clothing and characteristics. Aph Hungary is a female character who balances both feminine and masculine traits. And her design from seasons 1-4 emulate this balance perfectly. Her long hair is a pale brown color, and her eyes a dark green. Unlike later seasons where she's given long, shiny, elegant hair and sparkling eyes. She's often found wearing either military uniforms or pretty dresses. We even see the evolution of her fashion from child to adult, where she goes from wearing her hair shorter to wearing it longer and with a flower. Her design encapsulates the idea that, yes, she is a woman. Yes, she is feminine. But at the same time, this is someone who has seen war and battle. (I might have to do a separate post about Hungary, because her design and character are honestly fascinating).

[gumnut-logic]

“Alan, calm down. It was an accident.”

It was said through gritted teeth. This was not something he expected to have to weather when training his youngest brother in basic mountain climbing.

But then there had been the incident with the hammer with Gordon...and John, while extremely athletic had absolutely terrified Scott with the mild hypothermia incident.

Virgil...well, Uncle Lee had taught Virgil with Scott so big brother escaped that.

Though come to think of it, Uncle Lee did have a scar.

But it wasn’t as big as this one was going to be.

“I’m sorry, Scott. I’m so sorry!”

He drew in a breath and let it out ever so slowly. “Calm down. We will handle this like any emergency. Scout’s oath, Alan?”

And he made his little brother recite it, thankful that it seemed to focus the fourteen-year-old.

“Accidents happen, it’s how we respond to the accidents that matters, now secure yourself and contact John.”

Scott did his best to attach himself to the ice face as well. It took him a few extra moments working through pain and the inability to move without it.

An ice pick through his calf did that.

It was an accident. Scott had moved unexpectedly and Alan had picked at the ice at just the wrong moment in time.

“Thunderbird Five, we need help.”

A simple, but concise message.

“Alan? What’s wrong?”

The tremor in Alan’s voice as he reported the incident hurt Scott more than the ice axe.

“It’s going to be okay, Allie. I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.” It was a wail.

“It happens. I’ll be fine.” Looking down was awkward, and yes, his climbing pants were an uncomfortable shade of red, but he had confidence in his brothers. They would be off this mountain in no time.

Fortunately, Virgil and Gordon had stayed back on the Island while Scott both took a break on Aotearoa’s South Island and began some basic training for his youngest brother.

Apparently, he would be off rota longer than expected.

“Should I try to bandage it.”

“No.” Scott shifted a little and regretted it. “Virgil will be here soon.” It wasn’t like his brother was far away at Thunderbird speeds. He could imagine Virgil flying down that ridiculous chute of his this very moment. Five minutes, maybe.

“I’m sorry, Scott.”

“Allie, it happens.” A swallow. “Did I ever tell you about how I learnt to drive?” Distraction was the key.

“No? Didn’t Parker teach you? Gordon still raves about his lessons.”

Another swallow. “Yeah, he did. Had to repair a lot of pink paintwork for his efforts.”

“What? You smashed up FAB1?!”

“Kinda.” Yeah, now it was really starting to hurt. hanging from the side of a mountain with blood dripping into the abyss wasn’t his favourite past time. C’mon, Virg, hurry up. “Parker was not impressed.” Scott flexed his own axe in one hand and dug into the ice and secured an extra piton which he then looped into his harness.

Didn’t hurt to be extra secure.

“How? Did Parker actually let you drive FAB1?”

“Kinda. Not really. He has another pink car.” A grimace. “Still goes fast.” And it had hit that tree rather hard. Sometimes he swore he could still hear the echoes of the lecture he received from both Parker and his father about driving too fast.

Cars were not planes and did not respond quite the same way.

Didn’t help that England drove on the wrong side of the road. It was all cack-handed.

He tightened his fist and loosened his shoulders.

“Scott, you okay?” That tremor still hurt.

“Virgil will be here any moment.” And as if summoned, a streak of green tore into the sky above them.

And planes weren’t Thunderbirds. The sight of the big green behemoth was such a relief.

His comms. “Hey, Virg. Need a hand.”

“Coming down.” Two spun slowly midair and opened her bay doors. A moment and the rescue rig, complete with two frowning brothers descended from her belly.

“He’s going to kill me.”

Another sigh. “No, he won’t. He’s Virgil. He will just run you through climbing safety ad nauseam.”

“Gordon is never going to let me live it down.”

A blink. “Yeah, you may be right about that.”

“I’m sorry, Scott. I really am.”

“I know, Allie, I know.”

-o-o-o-

[andydrysdalerogers]

Yours Submissively ~ Education

Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis

Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos.

And she has no idea.

Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, loss of virginity, (and a bunch of others that will come up)

A/N: the taglist is open!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Banners by me!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Devotion

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Steve and Belle had a wonderful honeymoon, visiting England, France and Italy for their honeymoon.  Steve made sure that Belle saw everything she wanted.  Belle made sure to keep Steve satisfied every night and morning.  They woke to each other’s touches and kisses, lazy sex in the mornings, passionate love in the evenings.  As they laid together the morning before their return home, Steve played with her fingers as they drew circles on his bare chest, the sheet covering his lower half.  “Ready to go home?” 

“No,” Belle replied from her position on her side, the sheet covering her chest but her bare legs out.  “Dunno how to be a wife so I’m a little nervous.”  

“Kinda glad you don’t, seeing how I’m your first for everything.” He picked up her fingers to kiss each pad.  

“Hmm, well Mr. Rogers, you don’t know anything about being a husband, so I think for the first time we are on the same playing field.”  

Steve chuckled.  “I guess you’re right.  So, tell me, what do you want to do?” 

Belle looked at him thoughtfully, “would it be wrong that I don’t want to go back to the school?” 

Steve looked shocked but then concerned.  “Why?  Is there a problem?” 

“No, its just.  It’s not my passion, amore. I don’t love it.”  

Steve understood that. When the shield lost it shine, so to speak, he moved on.  “So, what would you like to do?”  

“For now, learn to be a CEO’s wife.  Pepper and Natasha have informed me that there are a lot of things to learn, and I want to take the time to learn it before I do what I really want to do.”  

Steve was curious.  “I mean, sweet pea, you don’t have to stop your career to do that”.  

“I know but, Steve, you are an important person and I want to be helpful in that. When we settle, then I want…” she hesitated.  

“Want what my love?  You can tell me.”  

“I want to see about opening a restaurant. A little café where I can cook and stuff.”  She bit her lip and looked away.  

“Don’t be embarrassed, love.” Steve moved to cage her in. “I remember when you said it was your dream.” He began to kiss her neck and jawline, pulling the sheet away.  “I think I could help with that,” he whispered in her ear as he reached down to let a finger slide in her folds.  She mewled and her hips floated up. “Help with finding you a place.” He kissed lower on her chest. “Taste test. Marketing.” He tugged on one of her nipples. “I think it’s a great idea.” 

“Stevie, please.”  

“Are you distracted princess?  Tell me what you need. Because I love your idea.” He sank a finger in, and she moaned as he moved.  “I think it’s perfect.”  

“Sir, please!  Please!” 

“Please what, Isabella.”  

She looked up at her husband with big eyes.  She leaned up to him.  “I need you to fuck me as hard as you can, my king,” she whispered.  

Steve smirked.  “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint my wife.”  He took away his hand and sat on his haunches.  He stroked his cock a few times with the hand covered in her juices. He then lifted her legs to be around his waist as he lined himself to her and pushed in to the hilt.  Belle moaned loudly, and Steve rutted into her slowly but deeply, hitting her spot with every stroke.  Belle grasped his forearms as she tried to ground herself from the intense pleasure. “Feel what you do to me love?” 

“God, yes, it feels so good.”  

Steve slowly dragged his cock in and out, loving how Belle felt around him. “So tight and warm.  My perfect little wife. My princess.”  He thrusted harder. “My queen.”  

“Stevie,” she moaned, getting close to releasing, knowing he wanted her to hang on.  “I can’t.”  

“Yes, you can my love.” He could feel her throbbing around him. He changed the angle of his body, grasping her hands in his, pinning them beside her head. “I love you. Hold on for me.”  

He watches a tear slide, the pure lust in her eye. “I can’t.  Need to… please my king, please.”  

Steve couldn’t stand it any longer. He rolled over, never leaving Belle, placing her on top of him.  “Let go Mrs. Rogers. Let go all over me. Let me feel you,” he grunted as he moved her hips.  

She finally reached the peak and cried out as she followed orders, releasing the most amazing orgasm of her life.  She fell forward as her body went limp and Steve cradled her as he continues to push up, finding his own end and slowing.  He held her close as her breathing calmed, pressing soft kisses to her head.  “I love you Mrs. Rogers.”  

He felt her smile against his neck.  “And I love you, Mr. Rogers,” she whispered, pressing her own kiss into his neck.  

New York in the Spring is supposed to be a magical time in the city.  Still cool enough to wear a coat but warm enough to enjoy fashion week at Bryant Park.  Which is exactly where Belle found herself, mere weeks after she arrived back from her honeymoon.  Having been introduced to other wives of the elite, a couple of them dragged her to this parade of clothes and lunch for the last couple of days. She sighed quietly, bored out of her mind.  

“That gown is simply stunning,” a woman with white hair and immaculate makeup stated as she sat front row next to Belle.  She looked over at Belle.  “You are new to the scene, correct?” 

“Yes, I suppose I am. Isabella Da-err Rogers.”  

“Ah yes, the new wife of Steve Rogers. My, my, your photos do not do you justice, my dear.”  

“Oh,” Belle blushed looking down.  “Thank you.”  

The woman inspected her. “Mrs. Miranda Presley,” she offered with her hand.  “Editor-in-Chief, Runway.”  

“I love Runway,” Belle replied. “Your wedding issue is where I saw my dress originally before I went to Klinefeld’s.  Been reading it for years, although I don’t feel like I have the look for some of the clothes.”  

Miranda glanced at her.  She noted that she was dressed in an Alexander McQueen dress and Manalo boots, a simple yet complimentary Yves Saint Laurent coat around her. “Darling, you have good taste. What is it you are looking for?” 

“Just someone to help with my styling.  Steve insists that I hire a stylist since I’ve been taking on more serious interest in my husband’s work and associates.”  

“Ah, a CEO’s wife.  Yes, well, here,” she handed Belle a business card.  “Call my office and have them arrange an appointment.  I have some names and I could run them by with Nigel, my fashion editor and make sure they are a right fit for you.”  She grasped her chin to turn her face.  “You have exquisite skin and with that eye color, well, you are stunning.”  

Belle blushed at the compliment.  Miranda Presley was not known for her kindness, and she understood that Miranda just wanted to be on the good side of one of the most powerful CEOs in the world.  “Thank you, Mrs. Presley.  I will be in touch.”  

“You don’t have an assistant?”  

“No, not yet. On the list of things to do.”  Belle offered a weak smile.  

“Hmm, well… Emily!”  A young woman standing in the back rushed forward.  “Make a note of available interns that Mrs. Rogers can use.”   

“Oh no, Mrs. Presley…” she was cut off with a look.  

The assistant merely nodded.  “Of course, Miranda.”  She walked away quickly.  

“You will learn, Mrs. Rogers, that whenever someone powerful does a favor, you accept without question.  Just like if I needed something from you.”  The show ended and they clapped as the designer made his way out.  “Pleasure to meet you.”  She rose and walked away with her team following her.  

“Ohmigod, was the Miranda Presley?” Chloe Barber asked. “You are so lucky!” 

“I guess so.”  

“You guess so?” Brandy Levinson snorted.  “Girl, she never speaks to anyone, ever. You have been anointed.”  

Belle held the role of her eyes and just smiled.  “Lunch? Right?” 

“Oh of course.” The girls were leading her out as another called out for her.  “Belle!” 

Belle groaned internally at the sound of the voice.  She rearranged her face into a smile.  “Ms. Carter, what a nice surprise.”  

“Same. But please call me Sharon.”  The blonde flicked her hair over her shoulder and gave a tiny wave to Clint, who had been waiting by the door.  

Belle really rolled her eyes at the gesture but then sweetly talked to her lunch companions.  “Would you ladies mind if I met you at the restaurant?”  

“Of course,” they both nodded quickly and gave air kisses to Belle.  As they left, Belle waited until they were out of earshot before turning back to Sharon.  

“To what do I owe this pleasure,” she said sarcastically.  She caught Clint with the corner of her eye, watching her.  

“Just wanted to know how you were doing, being married and all.  I mean, you did weasel your way into Steve’s life.” She took a sip of the champagne she was holding.  

“I did not weasel my way into anything.  Steve pursued me. I’m sure you don’t know what that feels like.” Belle narrowed her eyes. “From what he has told me, he used you to get where he wanted and then left you as soon as he was done with you.” She smirked at the blonde as her face twisted in anger.  

“Why you little…” Sharon reared her hand back.  

“Ah ah, careful Sharon, we are still amongst the public.” Belle laughed bitterly.  “Now if you’ll excuse me.”  She moved to leave.  Sharon clawed her hand on her arm to stop her.  

“You think you are so special.  Princess to the king.  Listen here, princess, you are nothing special.  Just the orphan of a group of people who no longer exist.”  

“I honestly have no idea what the fuck you are talking about.  Let me go.”  

Sharon smiled sadistically.  She studied Belle’s face.  “You really have no idea, don’t you?  No idea why you were almost taken, why your security was upped.  Why Steve left you for so long?” 

“How… how do you know about that?” 

“I know everything Mrs. Rogers. You should probably speak to your husband about things.  Why your parents were murdered. How your father died.  They are coming for you." She pulled Belle closer.  

“Hail HYDRA.”  

She let Belle go and walked away swiftly.  Clint saw the distress on Belle’s face and rushed over.  

“Belle?  Belle?” 

“Did you know?” she whispered.  

“Know what?” 

“Sharon.  Did you know she was here?” 

“No, I didn’t.  What did she say?” 

“She said to talk to Steve.  That not everything is as it seems.”  Belle looked at him.  “Where is he?” 

“He’s in his office.”  

“I want to see him.  Now.”  

Clint ushered her to the car.  As he drove, Belle got lost in her thoughts.  She knew her parents had been killed in a car accident but were they really murdered?  And her dad, how did he really die.  She had no idea.  How could she, Isabella Davis-Rogers, be the heir to anything when she had no family bar Steve and Bucky.  

“Belle? We’re here.”  

“Thanks Clint.”  She exited the car and went up to her husband’s office.  The elevator ride up felt like ages as she went up.  Questions kept adding up into her head. What didn’t she know?  What didn’t she understand?  The elevators signaled her arrival to Steve’s floor and Devon greeted her. 

“Hi Mrs. Rogers.  Did you need anything?”  

“I just wanted a word with him.  Is he busy?” 

“He’s with Mr. Barnes, Mr. Wilson and Mrs. Romanoff-Wilson.”  

“Perfect.  Can you ask him for just a moment of his time?” 

“Of course.  Would you like me to take your coat?” 

“No, its ok.”  Devon nodded as she entered the office.  She returned a moment later to beckon her inside.  She walked in to see her husband and their friends seated at his conference table.  “Hi.”  

“Hi sweet pea.” Steve went to kiss his wife.  She didn’t reciprocate and he frowned.  “Is everything alright?” 

“No, everything is not alright.”  She squared her shoulders.  “What does Sharon Carter know about me and my past that I don’t seem to know?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Why does Sharon think that I was kidnapped for a reason?  Why does she think I don’t know how my father died?  And why, she took a deep breath, is she saying Hail HYDRA to me?” 

“What? “Bucky breathed out.  

Belle took in all of their faces.  Now she was angry.  

“What don’t I know?” 

A/N: I'm sorry...

NEXT

Taglist:

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@peaceinourtime82

@kmc1989

[suekreandtheidiots]

Yes, I drew a mid-2000s teenager line up, featuring some of Hallie and Lance's dearest peers. No, I don't regret a single thing. 😂

***

I know I posted some short descriptions before but II brushed them up a little and want to have them all in one place, so here we go!

From left to right:

Mark McGrath (*February 7th 1987, in London/England, 5'8 ft) had to repeat 8th grade and somehow started hanging out with the cool kids of the year. Went to a fancy English boarding school as a kid... and somehow ended up at a random public school in Scotland as a pre-teen. No one ever found out what made him into the person he was... and no one really dared to just ask him either. A certain mystery surrounded Mark, which was fairly entertaining all by itself. Mark was a cool, calm and collected fella, easygoing and pleasant to be around, never as loud and obnoxious as some others but well, how do they say? Still waters run deep. And dirty. Mark was the one to ask for "special favours", such as getting weed/speed/acid/whatnot. Mark knew everyone and everything. Mark was the guy one would call if they had to get rid of a body. Mark never judged. Mark just did what had to be done. (Liked Hallie a lot, in a very innocent and friendly way, and even though the two never got to know each other on a deeper level, they always got along well and were able to communicate very naturally.)

Calum Hamish Fitzgibbons (*November 6th 1987, in Aberdeen/Scotland, 6'7 ft) was a nice kid, actually. A teenager of his time, with the appropriate brush of occasional overconfidence, because he had the looks and the wit. A lot of his peers looked up to him... quite literally, because, at seventeen, Cal was already 6'7 ft tall. Cal wasn't bad, he was just spoiled. His parents were pretty wealthy and he was used to getting whatever he wanted, without asking or having to put in any effort. That being said, when he was pining for Hallie, he kinda just expected that she would see the light one day, but he never dared to make an actual move to try and win her over. Partly because he didn't see the necessity, and also because romantic feelings for a friend are an awkward thing sometimes. When Hallie didn't just fall for him like he had hoped, and even picked his best friend over him during his absence, he was raging for several reasons. Being a bad person isn't one of them... but a male (teenage) ego is often a fragile one.

Hallie Henderson (*April 2nd 1988 in Aberdeen/Scotland, 5'7 ft) has loved writing all kinds of things ever since she was a wee lass... and being at school only fuelled that particular love! She was a very sweet and clever girl, with interest in pretty much anything, but most of all music, world affairs and also pop and rock culture, as well as clothes and boys (oooh!). Hallie decided to relaunch the school paper (with fellow writing enthusiast Lucy Dunn and the help of a few older students) at the tender age of thirteen, and had a carefully curated (and actually quite popular) web blog ("Hendersonic!") as well, in which she wrote about all the subjects and things that moved her. Hallie grew up with Type 1 diabetes, which always had the potential to put a damper on her generally happy attitude, and she was also afraid of being perceived as "plain" and "boring", and once it became cool to be "not like other girls", Hallie decided to jump right into that and became a bit of a Pick-Me, but she never lost her heart of gold (even though she tried to cover that up with the occasional *edgyness*). Cultural trends come and go, but being kind-hearted is always in style after all!

Lancelot Malcolm "Lance" Abbott (*July 27th 1988 in Aberdeen/Scotland, 5'3 ft) was an incredibly smart and headstrong prodigy; bold, clever, persistent and outspoken. It always seemed like there was nothing that Lance Abbott couldn't do... which was true, in a way, but also got to his head, unfortunately. Lance may have been kind at heart, but that wasn't exactly the part of his personality that he decided to flaunt - Lance was arrogant, on the brink of being very insensitive and plain rude at times. Despite his short and slight build, he had a very striking and intimidating presence; even people older than him preferred to not get into discussions and arguments with the little Abbott. Aside from his academic pursuit, Lance was also very musically gifted. He has played drums from an early age on, taught by his legendary dad, Craig, and had a great understanding for music in general.

Diana "Di" Ballantyne (*December 5th 1987, in Aberdeen/Scotland, 5'6 ft) was a stunning and headstrong Femme Fatale in training, with a passion for make up and clothes, and a strong disdain for Hallie and Lucy... and anyone else she deemed weird and/or boring. There was no rhyme and reason to what and whom Diana deemed boring, though, she just wanted to vibe and refused to put up with people and things she had no desire to put up with. Used to date Lance for a few months until she realised that the wee Abbott is just as much as a pain in the arse as she is, and broke up with him when things became too much of a hassle. (Met Lance again while he was in med school, and both hooked up every now and then over the years, despite not actually being into each other. Honestly, don't ask. 🤣)

It's hard to sum up Lowell "Fozzy" Foster (* September 17th 1987, in Inverness/Scotland, 6'5 ft) in just a few sentences... he was an experience. Not at all a bad kid either, but, uhm... well, let's just say that Fozzy's loyalty and integrity had limits, namely any time he sensed that there could be something in for him, when there was a lass he liked involved, or when doing the right thing was simply too much of a hassle. Aside from all this, Fozzy was a music freak, too, which is what always brought him and Lance back together, despite their various quarrels. Fozzy came from a very musically gifted family - he is the son of Andrew Foster, a well-known concert pianist, and Fionnula Graham-Foster, an opera singer. Being taught by his dad from an early age on, Fozzy was an outstanding piano player himself but he never bragged about that and rather half-arsed his way into playing other instruments instead, so he'd appear cooler to his peers. Fozzy was fun company, up for anything and an entertaining fella all around, for sure... it was just better to watch one's back when getting involved with him.

Lucille "Lucy" Dunn (* February 21st 1988) relaunched the school paper together with Hallie (and a few others) when both were thirteen and she became one of Hallie's closest friends over the years. Lucy was sweet in nature, but also quite blunt and never really cared about what others thought of her. She often spoke out what the sensitive Hallie didn't dare to say. She was also a childhood friend of Fozzy and secretly liked him a lot more than she ever cared to admit. Lucy was pretty badass overall and a true friend to anyone who managed to gain her trust, and she would not take crap from anyone, not even her teachers. When she punched a fellow student in the face after he groped her, and she was about to get detention, Lucy made it very clear to the headmaster what she thought of that - she threatened to take the incident to the paper and the police... and managed to get away with a warning. She still wrote about sexual harrassment in the school paper and dropped names, which was a scandal all on its own, but that's a different story. That being said, it was better not to mess with the young Miss Dunn - no matter what, she would strike back.

Timothy "Tim" Irvine (*March 3rd 1988) was the good soul of the gang. Outspoken and eloquent and not at all shy to voice his opinions, but where others of the same age just blurted out with whatever came to their minds at the moment, Tim actually thought about what he said. He was true friend material, always eager to understand both sides in an argument and staying respectful, even when he was mad or didn't agree with something. Tim didn't love what Lance started something with Hallie while knowing that his friend had been into her for an eternity, while they were away on vacation, but he was very willing to cut his friend some slack because he also saw what he had gone through. He was definitely not okay with the way Cal, Fozzy and Mark wanted to pay Lance back and eventually had a fall out with them as well. Tim was the last person of the former gang that Lance sent a text message to ("I'm alright, thanks. Take care, mate!"), after the blow up, and before they all went their separate ways in late Summer 2006.

***

Some closes ups, the lineart and the sketch:

[enqmind]

I'm kinda losing steam, so have the first part of this. (Also, I've been working on this for over a month. I need some encouragement T-T)

The Once and Future Queen

Pre-Raphaelite!Konig/female model(?)!reader, 2.9k words

Warnings: (Likely) Historical innaccuracies, pretension, Dante Gabriel Rosetti slander (aka: accurately describing what he did), TF141 are here with bells on.

Reader notes: Light enough to be easily lifted by Soap, has a family, lives somewhere in England, working class, Victorian.

Part I: Walpurgia's Night

 König was not a poet.

 Neither in his native German, nor this bizarre tongue that felt like speaking three at once.

 He was a man of few words, it only made sense to him that those words be simple and straight to the point. This attitude only made his fellows in the Brotherhood look upon him with rather some disdain.

 With this he was fine, he wasn’t there to mince pretty words and use them to entice young women to fulfil his whims and stroke his ego.

 The whole concept of poetry was a rather strange one to him to begin with. It seemed too prone to misrepresentations to his mind.

 After all, one could not scream a painting of a lover’s embrace, or softly whisper a woodcut of a bloody battle. A bold statue of a conquering hero could not be turned dreadful by a tone of voice or a stuttering delivery.

 No matter how honest the poet, the reader could turn their words to lie in another voice. Be that spoken aloud or just within their own mind.

 It was a folly, he would say if asked. In a particularly thunderous mood he would claim it made men mad. Drove their confidence into levels that tipped straight over the precipice of insanity. That otherwise merely passionate men were made Narcissus with the products of their souls. Or worse, made monsters.

 He had stood there, at the side of a young, lost, woman’s grave. The earth there turned fresh despite her being buried there years ago.

 Simple folly then seemed like madness, and his work thus changed.

 The word of the Bard became ash in his mouth.

 Smitten Juliets, sweet Cordelias and even poor Ophelias losing their glitter and shine. Becoming naught but shadows flickering at the limbus of his sight.

 Never honest. Never real.

 Thusly, he became a Nazarene.

 Vicious Judiths, loyal Ruths and penitent Marys Magdalene became his bread and butter.

 Until he recalled that these too were written in verse, and so the word of the Lord became as cinders.

 An unguided man, he wandered this foreign land as lost and adrift as the island itself.

 Perhaps it was a misunderstanding that brought him to this festival, but he was loathe to confess that he had wished to become drunk upon this Ale as he considered matters French, Roman and British for his work.

 It was here he saw them, on the day of Pentecost that these English did call Whitsun.

 In this place to the North, far from capitals both ancient and modern.

 This dying breed, these men of Morris. Dancing with their bells and handkerchiefs and swords never meant for battle.

 It captivated König.

 Here was legend, myth and mimesis.

 Representation of ancient truths without the lies of verse, except only —perhaps— to gild the lily.

 He took his sketches of the five.

 The leader with his distinctive hat and fashionable beard.

 The man dressed in rich colours and shine, like a jewelled beetle.

 The one with the swarthy skin and bearing of a grand thespian.

 The fellow with the piercing eyes and head shaved like warriors from the far side of the ocean.

 The largest of them, covered in darkness with a skull blacked upon his face.

 The One Four One, the side was called.

 The crowd laughed and clapped and cheered along to each of the dances, enraptured by this tradition that was petering out to its end.

 How it was worth the scorn that König had heard his cosmopolitan brothers heap upon it, he did not know. To him, these men were like warriors without a battle to fight.

 König was a draughtsman and a painter, so he drew and he painted.

 Captured the likeness of these men and their dance. Portraits of them in their mismatched gear titled with their odd nicknames, no sillier than his own.

 It kept him busy, back in his studio engulfed in smog and soot. Now become home as well, for Morris men were far from fashionable amongst his former patrons.

 The Earth had nearly completed her circuit ‘round the blazing Sun when he received a letter from the man that the side called captain.

 They were planning to travel to a new village for the next Whitsun, and König was welcome to meet them there. Price would arrive first, then Soap and Ghost, and trailing along would be Gaz and Roach

 He was rather confused that the invitation requested he join them in late April, as Whitsun would not be for weeks to come.

 He said as much when he accepted their kind invitation, expressing that he would be honoured to join them.

 A simple note was the only response he received as he packed up his meagre home .

 ‘The crowning of the May Queen must be honoured.’

 Another of these strange island customs.

 He pictured an austere woman in the fullness of life, tall for her sex and as imposing as Demeter while she ruled the growing season.

 König sketched such things as he travelled by train and then coach and then buggy to a new village.

 Was this queen special? he wondered. The ur-queen of life and growth, perhaps. So important that the near last of the Morris must attend her coronation.

 He near vibrated with intrigue at the thought.

 Here would be true magic and mystery, unsullied by the madness of verse.

 Price met him at the village’s inn, on the day of his arrival, buying him a drink and then a plate of food after passing his gaze up and down the near starving artist.

 He muttered something under his breath about brotherhood, it dripped with such disdain that König did fear it might land in his ale.

 After, Price perked up.

 “You’ll enjoy this,” he promised.

 Any wondering König might have done about how they would fill the time until May Day was quashed by the villagers. After all, surely a large man like him was there to help.

 He had no heart to say no, and was press ganged into helping them.

 On the third day, his job was to help erect a pole festooned with ribbons.

 This was where Soap and Ghost found him. One large man became two, their third securing the pole so well that naught but the mightiest gale could bring it down.

 After each day of hard work the villagers fed and watered them well. Women presenting them with stews and puddings, men with bread and ale, the children with wild berries and juices.

 The three men of the side ate well, reminding König to as well when he became too absorbed in his sketching of the day’s events.

 On one occasion, Ghost and Price caught him by the arms, Soap taking his papers and charcoal, refusing to return them until he cleared his plate.

 He almost snarled, but the gnawing pain that had settled into his gut asserted itself and cut him off.

 Soap laughed and he and his comrades watched, quietly pleased as König ate.

 He was not a Morris man, but he felt like one in the waning days of the month. Working, feasting and resting together.

 He wondered if this would last, if he was merely an understudy for their absent members. Standing in their spot, keeping their mark ready until they could arrive.

 This uncertainty lasted until the twilight of Walpurgia’s night, the last sunset before the queen was crowned, when the quintuplet once again became whole.

 Pulled along like the sea, König followed the moon of the three to the place where buggies made their stop.

 He sat on the bench and kept watch for them as they passed the time with practice. It was difficult for him to maintain his vigil, fascinated by how they danced as though nothing were missing at all. The glint of their blades and shadows of Roach and Gaz danced as much as they did in the golden hour.

 Only the distant sound of horses kept him from putting the image to paper.

 Hoofbeats blended with the stomp of the rappers into one melodious tune.

 König watched as two figures leapt from the buggy, running at full pelt down the road. The sound of their steps and laughter joined the steady rhythm until they slipped into the dance, replacing shadows like they were always there.

 It was as the buggy drew to a halt that he realised that there was no absence for him to fill.

 A woman’s laugh rose from the buggy, drawing five wide smiles and a curious look.

 Gilded by the setting sun, she stood above them all —even Ghost and König — glorious like a queen.

 This must be her, the monarch of May. Surely she was who the One Four One came to honour, bringing with them a foreign pretence of a king to make record of the ceremony.

 She was not Demeter, far too soft and kind as Soap lifted her by the waist from the buggy, dancing them into a spin before setting her to the ground.

 Immediately she was surrounded and towered over, the side as her court and her court at her side.

 “And so the summer queen arrives,” Price greeted, laughter in his voice as he doffed his hat into a deep bow.

 It was a wry grin she shot back, curtseying low.

 “Of course Captain, this is not an occasion that one could afford to miss.”

 She turned her eyes to König, lit ablaze as the stars crept out to shine.

 “And who might this be?” she asked, looking him up and down as one might a castle.

 “A sixth for a five man band? Why, was including Ghost not challenge enough?”

 The man himself huffed.

 “Her majesty jests,” Soap declared with a conspiratorial grin. “T’was no issue with Ghost at all. Excepting, of course, his demeanour.”

 That earned the Scot a cuff around the head that hurt not at all, if his wide smile bore fair witness.

 Price beckoned König over.

 “To honour the occasion, we invited a titled man to oversee proceedings. A majesty in his own right.”

 A hand fell on his shoulder.

 “A delight, my queen, to present to you a king; König.”

 Those eyes flew wide, and pretty lips parted in a gasp, before she curtseyed low again..

 “Nothing but a pleasure, I’m sure,” she smiled, so beautiful that it made his hands twitch. “To meet you is like a gift from above.”

 She wore admiration on her face like another lady might wear powder and rouge.

 “You know my work,” he realised.

 “Yes. I had the pleasure of seeing it as I attended my lady during a trip to the city.”

 The smile she wore was enchanting, almost enough that he didn’t parse what she said. Almost.

 “Your lady?”

 “Away from here I’m a mere lady’s maid.”

 “A poet,” Gaz corrected, “one who pays for room and board by masquerading as a maid.”

 She gave him a look that seemed to sigh ‘not you too’.

 König’s heart fell to his feet.

 “Not much of one,” she murmured, looking up at him, embarrassed.

 “Tosh.”

 Ghost’s simple comment brought a smile back to the queen’s face. She tugged his shirt to draw him down for a kiss on the cheek.

 König watched them. He wondered how much of the platonic nature of her affection was pure falsehood. How deep could the lies of verse go?

 Price’s hand fell again onto his shoulder, the look in the man’s eyes somehow both concerned and warning in the same expression.

 “We’ll get your bags to your Mam’s and then circle back to the pub, hmm?” he said to her, hand tightening on the painter’s shoulder.

 König found himself almost frogmarched into helping as the others, including their queen, unloaded the buggy of bags and cases.

 “Later,” was the captain’s quiet warning.

 The Morris men and their queen conversed with bright smiles and open laughter.

 Even the taciturn spectre was light. He shared a story with the newcomers of how one girl (soft and kind with a sweet, dark, face) commandeered he and König to help her pick some upstart elderflowers. She’d sat on Ghost’s shoulders to reach blooms to pluck alongside König. A little princess who crowned them both in flowers and thanks.

 Gaz puffed up in pride when König called her a braves Mädchen.

 “Just wait until tomorrow. You’ll see her be really brave.”

 To a man, the One Four One nodded in agreement.

 “I just hope I can do her justice,” the queen sighed.

 Roach patted her on the back with a reassuring grin. The silent conversation between them enough to draw her shoulders back.

 “You’re right. Just… one more pass?”

 He laughed, it running through the group like a plague. Affecting even König through his veil of misery.

 He didn’t speak much, even as they made their efforts to include him in the conversation as though nothing were amiss. To them, he supposed, there was not.

 He was no fool. He was aware that to educated and uneducated men alike, his aversion to poetry was bizarre.

 The expression colouring Price’s countenance told him as much when the queen went into her family home to put away her bag and be smothered in love.

 König told him that he could not stand that which would disturb the grave of a young woman as she slept eternal.

 He had expected confusion, perhaps more scorn, but instead he was given sympathy.

 Soap put his hand on König’s arm.

 A frisson of disgust ran through the side.

 “We heard about that,” Price rumbled, “foul business.”

 “Were you friends?” A question asked by all, but spoken by Gaz.

 He threw his thoughts back to her gentle face and broken soul. They spoke as infrequently as they met. Even as she sat for him, but those silences were amicable. Amicable.

 “Ja.”

 Delusion as it may be, she and he were kindred spirits. This he knew in his heart.

 “I get how you feel,” Soap commiserated, “that guy’s a cunt.”

 It began slowly and then came out of his like a torrent. Chuckle into raucous laughter.

 How direct. How clear. How unpoetic.

 It was like a veil had been lifted.

 The defiler wasn’t a tortured poet, a grieving husband, Alighieri descending into hell.

 “He is a cunt,” König stated. “Ja. Only a cunt would do that.”

 The hand on his arm turned into an encouraging clap.

 “There you go. He’s a cunt. You gonna let a cunt like that ruin something for you?”

 That was wha he’d been allowing, wasn’t it?”

 “No. Not anymore.”

 “Good man.”

 They were swiftly joined by the queen and her family, familiar from about the village.

 The queen mother made shooing motions at them.

 “Get a shift on lads,. They won’t light the bonfire without the guest of honour!”

 The side gave their greetings and the group headed onward.

 The queen’s family was a curious bunch, asking questions about what everyone had been up to on their travels and an inordinate amount about König.

 “So… I hear you’re a painter,” her father had begun.

 “Ja. We’ve already had this conversation.”

 “... Right. I just didn’t know you were that painter…”

 The man awkwardly moved into interrogating Gaz with his wife.

 Odd fellow, but not unlikable.

 It was not an unpleasant walk, König found himself rather enjoying it. Somehow folded into another band without meaning to.

 He stole glances at the queen as they went, the dark shadow washed away. His heart was for from repaired, but now he no longer needed to second guess her quite so much.

 She fidgeted while he looked at her. Dutifully, he averted his gaze as he noticed each time.

 No wonder she was the guest of honour; even in dusty travelling clothes she was wonderful.

 He wondered if she would be willing to sit for him.

 Soon enough they reached the inn.

 The bonfire was small and rather hastily made. He didn’t doubt that they built much more impressive ones to burn traitors in effigy.

 Gaz and Roach were hurried off to place their bags in the side’s room as the innkeeper strode up to the party.

 “Ah, good. You’re here!”

 König could have sworn his heart stopped when the man put a hand on his back.

 “Light the bonfire so we can ward off the witches, then.”

 He looked at the innkeeper, nonplussed.

 The hand patted.

 “Happy wall purge is knack, König,” the man grinned up at him. He looked so proud.

 König nodded, a small smile playing on his own lips.

 “Frohe Walpurgisnacht.”

 He was handed a flaming torch and the gathered village folk cheered as the pile caught flame.

 “From now on, we’ll know our May Queens will be safe from witches!” the innkeeper called to further cheers.

 It was a strange feeling being the centre of attention like this, but it didn’t feel so unnatural as it should. Explaining the traditions of Walpurgisnacht to the queen and other curious souls wasn’t as harrowing as he’d have expected if told he’d be required to do so when he had arrived.

 He expressed as much to Price as the bonfire died down and the side bade the queen and her family good night.

 The captain shrugged and slapped him on the back.

 “Sleep, it’s a big day tomorrow.”

[a-trick-or-two-with-lepers]

A Decidedly Unserious Review of Hair 2001 (ft. Drew Sarich)

I’m back for another lunatic review. This time: the 2001 recording of Hair: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical. This is so silly. I literally decided to do this like two hours ago because @peppi-mint wanted to hear my thoughts on it. Well, peppi, prepare to get an earful because I had some THOUGHTS

(I’m so sorry)

Aquarius- um. This is literally so cool. The hip-hop beat sets the tone, which is vastly different from every Hair recording I’ve heard. And then the violins come in and it’s like YOOOOO. And then the broadway singing comes in and it’s like YOOOOOOOOOOO! And then the dissonant harmonies hit and it’s like YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I really like this. Very different and fresh and new and Y2K in the best way. I can’t stress how fucking amazing those harmonies sound.

Donna- Ok, Drew!! Give us that punk-rock energy! The electric guitar sound is really neat, and I kinda dig the reverb as well as the way Sarich sings most of the lines straight intentionally. Whereas the harmonies were highlighted in the last song, they act more as a part of the orchestra in this song, but it still feels full and tasteful. Really enjoying this so far.

Hashish- I’ve literally always skipped “Hashish.” It’s boring to me. I’m a sober loser. But THIS?! What are they doing to my boring hashish!! The instrumentation is so experimental and interesting to listen to. I like that the cast isn’t going over the top with the vocals, too. They’re supposed to be high, so going full belt and vibrato isn’t really the vibe.

Sodomy- I’m literally Debbie Reynolds-ing right now. This guy’s voice has me biting my lip for real. Catch me joining the Holy Orgy ™ any day of the week.

Colored Spade- This production is obviously informed heavily by black music. Which makes this song slightly more comfortable to listen to. I can’t really speak on it though- I’m white. All I can say is: it’s a bop. Also, the second half?? So fucking groovy. Yes I’m using that word unironically. It’s a good word.

Manchester England- Stripped down acoustic guitar… mkay I can get with that. Makes the full orchestration pop out more. Loving these glam rock vocals from Kyrre Kvam.

I’m Black- It was literally 22 seconds long and sounded like a car commercial with that fade in and fade out I’m lmao 😭Where’s my Ain’t Got No?!?!?!?

Dead End- Ok so I rarely hear this one in any recorded productions. I’ve only ever really heard it in college production bootlegs I watch on Youtube. This version has me saying WHY DID THEY REMOVE IT?!? It’s seriously so good. 

Air- The vocal affectation that Jeannie usually has tends to annoy me, which I guess is intentional, but I’m glad it’s more toned down here. The industrial sound of the instruments clashes with the light and breezy vocals in a really fascinating way. It’s like a big burly man wearing a flowery perfume. Thumbs up from me. 

I Got Life- Teehee if you take out your left earbud you get an a capella intro 🤭Anyway, I always love this song. This version is no exception. Treat Williams is still top, tho (Rest in Peace, King). 

Hair- The titular bitchular! (-Athena P on YT). Something about the way the sound is split between each ear in the intro (vocals in one ear, guitar in the other) is ticking me off. That’s just me, though. Overall, this sounds so fucking good and it’s such a vibe. I’m not sure if it’s Kvam or Sarich who hits those high notes but they hit, man.

My Conviction- Hehehehehe this sounds so out of place I love it. (It’s supposed to- just like Herod’s song in JCS)! Also how are these vocals from a man?? They aren’t my favorite but they sound soooo much like a woman that’s crazy. Anyway gender is fake

Easy To Be Hard- Um. Can we say elegant? Can we say… mystical? GORGINA?!? BRO when the,,, fuck what is it, a marimba or some shit comes in with that overarching angelic tone- fuuuuuucccckkkkk. So good. Also the shaker keeping the beat tastes good. I can taste this song. It tastes like a capri-sun on a hot day. I’m in love. Hold up- added verse? Why haven’t I heard this-

Frank Mills- Awwwwww this is cute. I like this woman’s voice. Very smooth and nice to listen to. What I’m noticing so far about this album is that they treat each song like it’s its own person, you know? Like- every tune sounds coherent and like it belongs, but it also sounds like its own thing with its own special instrumentation. It’s just. So neat.

Be In - Hare Krishna- The speaker shifting got me like 🫠so good. It’s like ASMR. Another thing I’m noticing about the ensemble vocals is that they’re so… earnest? They aren’t worn like clothing, they’re like a part of the individual. ... Any arrangement that can make me describe music like this deserves the world.

Where Do I Go- Fuck. I just love arrangements that do something new. This sound is so clean and genuine and beautiful. If I could insert John Savage’s vocals into this it would be perfect (No shade to Kvam- I just love the movie version of this song so much). This is probably my favorite song from the musical (I literally wrote a 30k+ word fanfiction based on its lyrics), and I’m sooooo utterly pleased with this interpretation of it. All I’ll say is that the end could’ve been a bit louder/more intense- it is an Act I closer, after all. More drums, please!

Electric Blues- TELL ME WHOOOOOO DO YOU LOVE MAN! *guitar* Ermmm I love Electric Blues I love it. I wanna inject this song into my bloodstream. This version doesn’t stray too much from the original, and it slaps. Always does. Also I just realized this came out before the Broadway revival. I wonder if the revival folks took a bit of inspo from this version 🤔

Black Boys- ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS (I love the staccato guitar chords, offbeat, percussion, tonal shift during the solo represented by the instrumentation, and just everything else about this).

White Boys- My eyes literally rolled to the back of my skull during that intro. So good!! So tasty! Also these VOCALS! Less energy than the others I’ve heard, but that’s not a criticism. It’s more reminiscent of the original cast recording. Once again, ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS. 🍽️

Walking in Space- dodo do do dodo dooooooo. (guitar). Again, the vocalists aren’t overdoing it, which is working. I’ll probably smoke marijuana to this song at some point. Looking forward to it. Also when she sang “ 🎶floooooooaaating, flipping, flyyyyyying, tripping 🎶” I was like 😶‍🌫️(that’s me floating flipping flying tripping). . I want to consume these vocals

The War- Don’t think I’ve heard this one in any other production? It definitely fits the vibe they’re going for. I’d love to know the context for it. Eh, actually, I think I can guess...

Three-Five-Zero-Zero- Listening to this is making me realize how important the bass guitar is as an instrument. Songs would sound so much less full without its constant, droning presence. Also, I would’ve loved to see them lean even further into the experimental vibe for this one so that the tonal shift would sound more stark. Regardless, it all sounds really good. Love the harmonies, especially at the end.

Good Morning Starshine- I have a poster of these three words in my room. Also, I like this version of the song. Very 2001. Kinda reminds me of that song “Walking on Sunshine,” similar vibes. Not my favorite version, but still a bop and very fun. 

The Flesh Failures/Eyes Look Your Last- Guitar is so yummy. I don’t like the chorus singing the first part. I’m just too used to it being a soloist or Claude. Also, it feels kinda too fast? Sorry, I have ridiculously high standards for this song. I think it’s one of the best songs ever written. Given that fact, it’s hard to fuck it up. So, this sounds really good still, obviously. Just didn’t hit quite as hard for me. I feel like they tried so hard to make every other song sound unique and they dropped the ball a bit here. It sounds like they’re trying to just get it over with… which is very contradictory to the song’s message. Also, why isn’t “Let the Sunshine In” a part of the title? Seems kinda important 😬

Hippie Life- …huh?

Aquarius (Bonustrack) - director’s cut- It’s the remix 😎

Overall, I was really impressed by this album. I’m glad I took a listen. It seems like a very approachable version of the controversial musical. I think it’d be a good album to show friends that aren’t into musicals but should still get to enjoy Hair. Some choices weren’t my style, but I’m genuinely so astounded and excited by others. Act I was better than Act II. Drew Sarich was great, and so was the rest of the cast. Ultimately, a very cool take on one of my favorite musicals of all time. Thanks again to @peppi-mint for recommending this to me- I’m so happy I got to do another silly little stream-of-consciousness musical review!

[69bitterbeingz]

IF YOU'RE GONNA BE DUMB || CH. 4

<- prev | next ->

DISCLAIMER: This is a reupload from my prev account! best to follow the fic through ao3 [linked below] to avoid any future issues PAIRINGS - johnny knoxville, bam margera, steve-o, chris pontius, ryan dunn x female reader WARNINGS - swearing, a little suggestive

ao3 version

Over the next few weeks, you fell into a routine of sorts. You’d wake up around midday to a text with just an address and nothing else; this was now the Jackass way of inviting you to stunt shoots - who needs formal invitations anyway? It was far more interesting showing up to a mystery location every other day. You’d turn up per instruction, witness the carnage, then everyone went to the bar to get hammered. Thinking about the amount you’ve drank lately made your liver physically hurt, but you'd just chalk it up to building a tolerance.

Today was following that same pattern, as you woke up to a text from Bam with just an address. Business as usual, so you hauled ass to wherever it may be. However, you were a little confused this time when you pulled up to a public pool. Most of the places they sent you to were fields or streets, where it's out in the open, so you were wondering what the hell they were planning and how they got approval to do it. Still sat in the car, you texted Bam for the confirmation.

[Y/N]: the pool??

Bam: yeah go inside

Alright then. 

You felt a little odd going through to the pool area in jeans and a long sleeve, but once you saw the cast and crew were all fully clothed, you felt a little less weird. Shit, there was a lot of people here too - there were even a few faces you weren’t familiar with. It was always 50/50 on whether it'd be a select few of dumbasses or the whole gaggle. You stuffed your nervous hands in your pockets so you wouldn’t fidget with your fingers, and drew breath through your grit teeth; this was sure to be interesting. You said your casual 'hey's to the production team as you pushed through to where the stars were congregated, Ryan being the first to notice you and giving you a curt nod.

“Hey, good to see you.” He greeted, shuffling over so you could lean against the tarped equipment.

“What exactly are you doing at a pool?” You asked your burning question, and Ryan hung his head with a smile.

“Exactly the kinda dumb shit you expect.”

“Right, shoulda known.” The longer you looked around, the more props you noticed; a parasol, a pogo stick…? And-- was that a fucking bike? What the hell was a bike doing in a goddamn pool? You didn’t have long to agonise over that strange detail as you accidentally caught Johnny’s eye, who was talking with some of the men you didn’t recognise. Johnny said something to the two guys, then motioned for them to follow as he made his way up to you and Ryan. Oh boy, looks like it's time to make a first impression.

“Hey, [Y/N]! Sleep easy, honey?” He pulled you in for a side hug, and you rolled your eyes. Johnny motioned to you as he turned his attention to the two guys awkwardly stood there. “This here’s [Y/N], li’l lamb’s started hanging out with us.” After your brief introduction, he looked back at you. “And this is ‘Danger Ehren’ and Dave England.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Danger Ehren? What’s with the helmet then?”

He smiled goofily and knocked on it with his fist. “Safety first.” 

“Makes sense.” You turned then to Dave. “I think Bam told me about you, you’re the guy who can shit on command right?” They all started laughing at the mention, and Dave shrugged.

“Sure, that’s my defining talent I guess.”

“How is that even, like… possible? Are you sure you don’t have something seriously wrong with you?” 

“I’ve lived this long so I’m assuming I’m fine!”

The conversation was cut short by a yell from the camera man, telling Johnny to go ahead and film his intro. Johnny gave you a pat on the shoulder as he moved off of you.

“That’s my cue!”

He went on his merry way, and Ehren nudged you to get your attention long enough to say, “get a load of this.”

You watched as Johnny and a camera guy approached the ladder for the high dive, and - to your despair - grabbed the bike on his way. Immediately, you were pinching the bridge of your nose and groaning, Ryan giving you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Jesus Christ, is he serious?”

“By Knoxville standards, this is pretty tame.” Dave interjected, and yeah, he had a point. Finally at the top of the high dive, he perched on the bike seat and looked into the camera.

“Hi, I’m Johnny Knoxville, welcome to Jackass!”

With no hesitation, he cycled off the diving board, and like a wounded bird, plummeted into the water below. Despite your exasperation, you found yourself laughing to yourself.

“This is so fucking stupid.” You knew you should be used to these antics by now, but somehow you were still floored by the shit they came up with.

“Just you wait.” Ryan assured, which gave you no confidence whatsoever. Emerging from the men’s changing room came none other than Chris Pontius, returning as your favourite lifeguard. A camera followed him as he gave his spiel about keeping everyone safe, covering up his usual goofy grin with a fake stern expression.

"These are the lifeguards at the facility here, but I am the personal lifeguard of these daredevils. And if they step on my feet while I'm rescuing, they're the ones that are going to need rescuing." As ‘Bunny’ gave his speech, Bam came marching through, skateboard in hand. He sported a cocky grin as he noticed your bewildered expression.

“What’s your issue?” He asked, sliding in between you and Ehren. 

“Well, I just saw Knoxville sail off a diving board on a fucking bike.” You glanced down at his skateboard, then gave him an exhausted look. “I think I can guess what you’re planning.” Bam ‘pshh’ ed, shoving your arm playfully. 

“Don’t be such a mom about it, enjoy it.”

“I’m allowed to think this is stupid. Because it is.”

“Only gonna get stupider!” He promised, the production team calling his name for him to go up. Before he left, he turned to you with a mischievous grin. “Kiss for good luck?” 

“You wish. Go on, do your stupid stunt.”

Admittedly, it was more entertaining than you thought to watch a guy skate off a high dive; you blamed it on the atmosphere. Doesn’t matter how stupid a stunt may be, if everyone’s whooping like idiots, you feel more inclined to do so as well. Soon, you couldn’t help getting into the spirit of things - what could you say? Idiocy sure is infectious. After Bam’s first stunt, he followed up by jumping with a parasol, but it slipped out of his grip half way through, leaving him to drop like a rock. Dave went after him, one of his legs folded up like a flamingo as he hopped off into the pool. Simple but effective. Then went Ehren and a guy you were introduced to as ‘wee man’, wearing matching red speedos and jumping in sync with each other, holding hands all the way down. Kinda cute in a weird way. With each splash into the pool, Chris made a show of ‘defending’ you from the water, which meant pulling you behind him like a human shield. He never failed to be charming, you couldn't help giggling - the best lifeguard. Next up on the board was Steve-O, and you couldn't help but gasp when you spotted the pogo stick he was carrying up the ladder with him.

“A fucking pogo stick? Those things are death traps! He’s gonna slip and crack his skull on the tile or something!” it was the first time you actually worried for one of them, eyebrows knitting to create a crinkle between them. Johnny nodded from beside you, arms folded.

“Yeah, that’s the hope.”

He cackled when you smacked his bicep.

Luckily, Steve-O made the jump in one piece, allowing you let go of the breath you didn’t realise you were still holding. Ehren made his second appearance, sailing off the diving board on his little scooter, and for whatever reason that was your favourite so far. Ah wait, nevermind, the guy running off the board at full speed was now your favourite so far. Chris perked up when the running man collided with the water.

“Oh, my turn!”

“What’s your gimmick?” You asked, but Chris only gave you a coy smile, winking as he walked off toward the board. That was ominous. You looked to Johnny for some kind of explanation, but he just giggled to himself. Ok, there was something going on here. At first you were confused about their secrecy, but you soon understood when - at the top of the high dive - Chris bent over and slipped off his thong. It was like your brain cells totally fried, and Johnny immediately laughed at your stunned expression.

“Like what ya see?” He asked, leaning over you, but you couldn’t respond, you were too mesmerised by Chris doing a canon ball totally starkers, with just his bunny ears left on. That was far more than what you were expecting to see when you got up this morning. Once he landed, he emerged from the pool with nothing but his hand to cover his shame. You couldn’t help staring still, until he caught you and blew you a kiss, flirtatiously waving at you. You’re not sure you can ever look at rabbits the same way. 

“That was… a lot.” You finally broke your silence.

“Honestly I’m surprised it’s taken this long for you to see anyone’s wiener.” Johnny remarked, placing his hand between your shoulder blades. You screwed up your nose, giving him an odd look.

“You say that like you guys whip it out for fun.”

“...Honestly…?”

A nudge to his ribs was his hint to shut up. At least Bam had the good graces to keep his shorts on, even if his shirt was nowhere to be seen - christ, men and their affinity for getting naked. This time, all he did was hang from the board and swing off into the water, but despite its simplicity it looked like a lot of fun to do. Last, but for damn sure not least, Steve-O made his return. In the most patriotic get up you’ve ever seen, he climbed the ladder with what looked like stilts under his arm.

“Oh my god, he’s gonna die.” 

Bam laughed, gently pushing your head. “No way, he’ll be fine.”

“No no, stilts plus high dive equals death, I passed high school math.”

“Nah, he went to clown college, he’ll be fine.” Johnny interjected, and suddenly a whole lot started to make sense. To your utter shock, Steve managed to get on the stilts while barely wobbling. With his arms stretched out on either side, he made it all the way to the end of the board and took his leap of faith, hitting the pool with a loud smack. You had to give him props, it was one hell of a spectacle, earning a round of applause when he made it out without any kind of fatal injury. While you were distracted by Steve-O, you didn't notice Chris until he was right in front of you, his face inches from yours with a wide grin.

“ You should do one, [N/N]!”

Is he trying to kill you?

“What? N-no, I don’t have anything interesting to do.”

Ryan shrugged. “Doesn’t have to be interesting.” Before you could respond, Bam started to snicker and hung his arm around Dunn’s neck.

“Nah, it’s alright if she wants to be a pussy.”

Damn your pride.

Somehow you found yourself climbing the rungs of the high dive ladder, barely hearing the general whooping and jeers coming from below over the blood rushing in your ears. This was stupid, why were you so easy to manipulate? If you were going to survive these guys, you’d have to learn not to be so easily swayed. After what felt like a million years of climbing, you reached the top. You’ve never really had an issue with heights, or at least you didn’t think you did, but now you were staring down at the pool so so far down with no railing to keep you steady, you were starting to think you might. How the hell was this so much more daunting than that stupid fucking ramp? You weren't even wearing roller skates this time, yet your pulse was starting to race as you couldn’t look away from the water, stood rooted to the spot lest you slip and fall and  die.

“...Nope. Fuck this.” You said to yourself, then called down to the hooligans waiting for your demise. “ Fuck all of you! I’m coming back down! ”

You turned to climb down, but someone was blocking your exit. None other than Bam stood there, dripping wet and with an absolutely malicious look on his face. You took a tentative step backwards, pointing at him accusingly.

“ Don’t you fucking dare. ”

He dared.

He lunged at you too quickly for you to react, and within seconds you were hurtling through the air because some shirtless asshole decided to tackle you off the high dive. You crashed into the water, his added weight on top of you knocking the air out of your lungs and sinking you to the bottom of the pool. You managed to shove him off, and pulled yourself back to the surface, catching your breath as you clung to the pool’s edge for dear life. You could hear Bam surface behind you, laughing his head off.

“Fucking prick.” You hissed, spitting water out onto the edge tiles.

“What? Aren’t you glad you didn’t puss out?” He asked, his shit eating grin really getting under your skin. Though there it was again, the adrenaline rushing through your veins, the excited airy thrill in your stomach, the manic desire to do it again . Admittedly… yes, you were glad, but fuck giving him that satisfaction.

“Blow me, you’re dead to me.”

Chris came to your aid, hooking his arms under yours and pulling you to safety. His arms then dropped to encircle your waist as Johnny gave you a thumbs up.

“Chin up, [Y/N], it’s good tv!”

“You can blow me too.”

Since you were forced into a pool fully clothed, you had to duck into the women’s changing room to ring them out as best you could. Unfortunately, there was no way they were gonna dry any time soon, so you admitted defeat and slipped back into the uncomfortable damp. Weirdly enough, this wasn't the first time your clothes got totally ruined at a shoot; you should really start keeping a spare set in your car.

As you left the women's changing room, you bumped into Steve-O.

“Shit, sorry.”

“No, it’s cool.” He looked you up and down, obviously still soaked. “...You can borrow my shirt if you want, don’t really need it right now.”

You blinked owlishly. “Really?” And he nodded, motioning for you to follow him to a nearby bench. He tossed his shirt at you [a black long sleeve with some kind of angular white graphic, you had half a mind to nick it], and was gentleman enough to look away as you changed. The jeans still sucked, but at least your chest was dry again.

“Thanks man, promise to give it back.” 

“Yeah don’t worry about it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You coming to the party tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, racking your brain for a second.

Party…? Did you miss something?

“Uh… what party?”

Steve looked confused. “The party…? Did nobody tell you?”

“No??”

“Huh, guess we all just assumed someone invited you.” He shrugged. “Fuck it, I’m inviting you then. We’re all gonna trash Knoxville's place tonight, I’ll send you the address.”

“I don’t, uh…” You gestured awkwardly. “Don’t have your number, dude.”

“Shit, even after a month? Hand over your phone.” Like time was repeating itself, you obliged without question, and he clumsily added his number into your contacts. A strange sense of accomplishment filled your chest as he handed it back, like you got an achievement in a video game. “There, text me so I can give you the address.” Then abruptly, shirtless as the day he was born, he picked up his stilts and left.

Well... guess you had plans for tonight, not that these guys ever gave you a night off. You really had to start praying for your organs. You were left to wait for everyone to wrap up the shoot, idly flicking through the contacts on your phone. You had forgotten about the quest you set yourself all that time ago [i.e. four weeks], but now that there was only one left you needed to complete your collection, you were filled with an unexpected determination. Your eyes flicked up from your small phone screen to settle on the man in question, none the wiser as he chatted to the production team.

Tonight you’re getting Johnny Knoxville’s number.

[songs-about-girls-like-me]

chapter 11: school bullies

It was english class and our english teacher, Miss Diana, had quitted cause she thought someone from our class must have stolen her iPad. And it was 2010, a.k.a. "peak of the iPad era". They searched for the iPad for at least a week and then she left. Rumor had it, Mickey had stole it. He was short, not even short for a boy, even shorter, but he also was blond and the type of person to feel better than avergare because of it. He was one of our class bullies despite being so short and I didn't think he had it in him to steal from a teacher but, idk, maybe he did. I remember distinctly this one day at the end of recess when he was saying it wasn't true that Liv's dad was british and he told her that she was a liar, and kept asking why, if her dad lived in England, she lived here. But Liv's dad really is a brit and Olivia never bragged about it, but I think people were always really pressed about how she looked british and had a british last name. No amount of whiteness or blondness would make him british. That one Time I really wanted to punch Mickey but I guessed it was Liv's life, and she would never show reaction to any type of bullying which was also cool. She just said something like "My parents are divorced, idiot" which made her sound so metal. Eitherway, he wouldn't stop talking so we just ignored him until he got tired. Mickey had never bullied me much (I say this cause he would mock every single person in our class from Time to Time), but he had his moments. He had even teased me and Brody a little about liking each other at some point.

Our new english teacher was called Miss Claudia and she was so sloppy and her class was kinda crazy. She was from argentina and it was a bit funny having english class from someone with an argentinian accent. But that wasn't the matter. It was the way she would let us do whatever we wanted to, and the way she would write all the answers to a worksheet on the blackboard before we even had Time to answer, so that we could "grade our own work". Or the way she once got my first name wrong and literally called me "sexy". It was all almost camp (as in Susan Sontag, or Met Gala "camp").

That day we were copying down sentences in our notebooks to then fill in with the correct vocabulary words. I was sitting very close to the teacher's desk, Mickey was in the same team with me. MJ was not sitting with us, but was close cause she had moved her desk all the way next to Miss. Claudia's. Just cause she had wanted to. I didn't ask but I think she had had a fight with her friends again and wanted to be alone. I think she had cried before recess.

Mickey took my pencil out of my hand and started writing with it. I looked him in the eye and gave him a bad look, then grabbed my pencil from him. I knew he didn't have a pencil of his own. He had been borrowing my extra pencil for the last five days at least. I rolled my eyes and started copying from the blackboard again, but he took my pencil again, and this Time it drew a crooked line on my notebook when he snatched it out of my hand.

"Stop that." I got my pencil back and pushed his desk away from mine with enough strength to be a bit violent. I tried to ignore him and continued writing but 30 seconds later he was reaching over me, trying to get to my pencil case. "Hey. I said stop it." I was now almost yelling. I was always careful to not get upset cause I knew people loved it when they got on your nerves, so I always calculated my voice to sound angry or done with their bullshit, but not to sound frustrated. Even if I was.

"Calm down, Rees. Let me borrow your pencil"

"No, I told you to get yourself a stupid pencil." Still, he got my pencil case and took out my extra pencil.

"Stop." I got my pencil back but he took the other one from the desk. "Mickey! Get your own fucking school supplies, for real." I sounded pissed but not upset. But I had yelled that and the whole classroom had heard. Lol and I had cursed out loud in class.

"What did you say??? What is going on with you two?" My teacher had stood up from her desk.

"I- he-" Mickey was laughing and I stood up without even noticing. I talked in a matter of fact tone. "He doesn't have a pencil and has been borrowing mine all week and I don't want to lend him anything anymore." My camp-y teacher looked like she was on my side, even when I had cursed out loud.

"She said "all week", it's monday teacher!" He was laughing. "Come on, don't be stingy, Rees"

"I meant last week"

"She obviously meant last week, Mickey. Why don't you have your own pencil?" She had a comical tone in her voice for the next part: "This is a school! Really!" I was almost laughing now. I loved the "obviously". I loved miss Claudia even if she had called me "sexy" and now my classmates called me sexy, because of her. She was a bit out of it.

"Well, she should-" Mickey stood up now and was getting upset. "Like, why can't she lend me a pencil? She- Really." He wasn't laughing anymore and his tone had frustration in it. I was looking at him, expecting a better comeback just as the rest of my classmates. No one laughed but you could feel in the air how Mickey was now in the laughable position.

"Well go get a pencil to the other classroom or the principals office or something, you can't work without a pencil." Said our teacher.

I sat down and hoped he didn't ask for my stupid school supplies anymore. Or tried getting on my nerves again.

[ottiliere]

I just wanted to say that your art is really something else, I love seeing how fluid it is and the lines on everything is just so nice and appealing to look at,, I wanted to know if you liked johnny the homocidal maniac bc you drew dirk wearing a johnny c shirt and now I'm curious lol :0

1. jthm is one of my major inspirations, I read it when I was an impressionable child. I've talked about it here a few times here before! I think I tagged most of it as #jthm if you're curious.

+2. you guys are too kind hahaha. I use a lot of reference images and always try to make note of how bodies are moving in the real life as well as in animation, + I've always been captivated by "ugly" depictions of overwhelming negative emotions. this is in part because I very much enjoy vicariously feeling bad in a controlled setting... i guess its like watching a little tiny bomb go off behind glass. I like to try and capture this and evoke emotion with a lot (but not all) of the stuff I make. art doesn’t serve a massive purpose/provide a self-fulfilling gratification for me otherwise. thank you!

3. this is in part i think due to societal taboo around the subject (people staring at sh scars or blatantly asking what they’re from/acting super awkward about it if given a straight answer). people don’t know how to talk about this topic at all. its a big bad bogeyman and if you’ve never gone through mental health crises or been around people who have there’s a fundamental lack of tact or awareness of even how to handle that kind of thing. to me scars are just a part of life like they happen and they’re there and sure it can be the center of an art piece (vividly remember seeing art of aph england cutting himself on dA when I was 12 LOL it was so striking to me at the time) but i’m more interested in capturing day-to-day scenes or candid shots of life of whatever I’m portraying for the most part. and scars just happen to be on the dirks in my head and they’re kinda just... there. it’s life. no big deal. touched you view me as your favorite artist. have a dirk from my art folder.

[the-localwildlife]

How about POV for the ask game?

Ok, this one was really hard, but it was a lot of fun. I decided to do something from Jimmy's experience with Gord from Gord's POV. I kinda see Gord as an unreliable narrator, which is why certain parts of the story are different to the published story from Jimmy's POV. Thanks so much for the ask, sorry it has taken so long!

Gord liked Jimmy. He thought that was obvious. He did his best to be discreet, but that word had never been in his vocabulary. He wasn't sure what it was in particular that drew him to the scruffy little boy, but Gord was drawn to him whether he liked it or not. Maybe it was the status, or maybe it was the fact that Jimmy was economically challenged—an insult that originated with Derby but found incredibly endearing by Gord—whatever the reason, Gord took great comfort in Jimmy's company. He thought he had made it obvious that he liked Jimmy, but he was still yet to receive a kiss from the boy who held his affections.

He rarely felt more at ease than when his head rested on Jimmy's lap. Sometimes, his coarse fingers would play with Gord's delicate hair. Today wasn't one of those days, but Gord could imagine it all the same; the gentle massage against his scalp as Jimmy stared off at something unknown. “What are your plans for the summer, Hopkins?” Gord's eyes fluttered open, Jimmy continued to look away. "If I'm not expelled, probably stay in Bullworth." Gord hummed thoughtfully. It must be so dull to stay here for an entire year. "What about you, Vendome?" Gord smiled, happy that Jimmy was engaged in the conversation. "Me? I'm not sure. Daddy is going to the Chalet in the Swiss Alps for skiing, and Mummy is going to England to see her niece's wedding. Derby and some of the others want to go to Ibiza, it's très chic." "That must be a hard decision," "Which would you pick, then?" Gord asked, interested in what he had to say. "Ibiza," Gord noticed the way Jimmy shrugged. It was an impersonal decision. Nonetheless, Gord had a proposition he wanted to level at Jimmy. He hoped it might make him more enthusiastic. "A good choice. I hoped you would pick that one," Gord tried to maintain his level of excitement, even if Jimmy wasn't going to return it. "Why's that, Gord?" "Because I want you to come with me." The look on Jimmy's face told Gord that was the wrong thing to say. "Haha, very funny Gord," Jimmy looked worried, Gord maintained a positive smile. "Oh no, you can't be serious?" But Gord was serious, he told Jimmy so, and he did a terrible job of masking his hurt. Gord liked Jimmy, he was very genuine about how he felt. He was more than happy to pay to take Jimmy somewhere nice, he was more than happy to wait to kiss him, or call him his boyfriend. But Jimmy didn't seem so enthused. He left, and Gord followed, desperate to make sure they understood each other clearly.

[devilscreekballad]

Commission for BirbWaifu

With @birbwaifu ‘s permission, here’s the writing commission done for them <3

Thanks again for commissioning me.

If you wanna commission a story as well, check out the pinned post.

Enjoy

"Ya think they know?"

It wasn't an easy-to-answer question Nobu was posing there, but he felt a heavy weight lifting off his shoulders as the words finally left his mouth.

Charlie put his book down and pulled himself up into a marginally more upright position as they laid cuddled together in their train compartment's bed, reading.

"How d'ya mean?" he wondered, blinking down at the man resting against his chest.

Nobu drew a breath to answer, but paused. He knew the way he worded that question could mean a couple of things, and all of them had been weighing him down.

"About... all of it, I guess," he thus answered, looking briefly up at Charlie before listening to the other man's heartbeat again. "About me, 'bout you, us... this whole misadventure."

"I wouldn't call it misadventure, Nobu," Charlie said softly, playing lazily with the other's short hair. "I mean, look at what we achieved. But as for that... I don't think me family knows 'bout it. Nothing ya really put in the papers, right? An' what might make it into the papers... There's not really much o' a connection to us, is there?"

Nobu nodded.

"An' they already know 'bout ya," Charlie continued, gently caressing the other's cheek. "No one uttered a bad word 'bout ya since the wedding, so no need to worry there." Charlie shuffled and pressed a kiss onto the crown of Nobu's head. "And trust me, if anyone would have a problem with ya, Ada would rip'em a new one."

Nobu chuckled softly, and sighed.

"But what about us being together?" he wondered.

"Same deal," Charlie shrugged, giving Nobu's arm a squeeze. "But we'll find out for certain soon enough."

Something about Charlie's tone wasn't right. Nobu shifted a little to look at his lover once again.

"Yer alright?"

Charlie blinked once more, nodding.

"Am. Just still tryin' to wrap my head around everythin'. This was a bit bigger than anything we did before."

"It sure was."

And Charlie sighed.

"Wanna hear the punchline? The bit I find hardest to grasp is that ya actually love me back, and confessed first. All these years, we rode together and..."

Now Nobu sat up and smiled, bemused.

"We're both two oblivious fools, ain't we?" he said, now resting his head against Charlie's shoulder.

"Oblivious and both in bloody denial, Nobu," Charlie answered, taking the smaller man's hand. "But I'm glad you said something. I'm not certain I woulda had the courage to do so."

Now Nobu blinked.

"Ya really think so?"

Charlie nodded, smiling bitterly.

"With all that happened, I guess if you would not have said anything there and then... I woulda started tellin' meself that ya don't have the same feelings for me. 'Cause when all that crap didn't encourage ya to say anything..."

"It wouldn't have encouraged ya either by the sound of it," Nobu deadpanned, looking a little grumpy. "And yer the more courageous of the two of us."

Charlie awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Well... I..." he began, but Nobu gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"But I get ya. I... I think I woulda jumped to the same conclusion 'bout ya had I not said anything."

Charlie smiled and put the book away, turning to Nobu to gently kiss his forehead.

"We're a match made in... God knows where..." he chuckled, cuddling into the pillow.

Nobu did the same.

"Ya think we'll ever see the others again?" he wondered as Charlie turned off the small lamp. "I mean, they said they'll stay in contact, but..."

"I'm quite certain 'bout Mrs. Meadows. Can't imagine Blayne won't keep his eye on us, and she'll be the best way to do so. With O'Brian, Burke an' their brethren, I'd say it depends on what the world has in store for'em. Miss Florence will certainly write." Charlie hummed in thought. "I think the only real tricky one will be Lynwood, what with him moving to England. He'll either write eagerly or will get wrapped up in work again."

Nobu nodded gently. This sounded about right.

"Those were some weird weeks," he said.

Charlie sighed in agreement.

"That they were. But one can't argue we didn't end our career as outlaws on a high note."

"As if you'd actually give up on gamblin' and hustlin'."

Charlie laid his arm around Nobu, pulling him closer.

"I'll cut it down for ya, an' ya know that," he said, giving Nobu a loving squeeze. "But now we should sleep. I'd like to be awake properly when we meet me family."

"Yeah, not riskin' givin' them any advantage."

Both men chuckled, and Nobu leaned up to kiss Charlie's cheek.

"I love you."

"I love you too." Charlie returned the kiss. "Good night."

"Good night."

~~o~~

The next morning came, and Nobu woke to the conductor knocking on the compartment door, announcing that they'll reach their destination in less than an hour.

Nobu sat up, yawned, and looked down at Charlie, watching the other man's chest rise and fall gently. And after a moment, Nobu playfully ran a hand over Charlie's stomach. Charlie stirred awake, blinking blearily at his lover.

"G'morning," he slurred, squirming a bit. "Ya really took a liking to tickling me awake, didn't ya?"

Nobu sighed and searched Charlie's eye.

"I..." he began. "I guess I'm tryin' to tell meself this ain't a dream."

Charlie smiled and reached up to caress Nobu's cheek.

"I get that. I think I told ya that I'm still wrappin' me head around all of it." Charlie cocked his head. "But I get the impression yer really worried 'bout things."

"Am," Nobu admitted. "We got a new life ahead o' us, and..."

"Yer scared, no matter how much ya wanted it?"

Nobu nodded, and Charlie pulled him into a gentle hug.

"Look, Nobu, I can't promise ya that life will be outrageously easier now. But it should be a less rocky road. An' we've weathered so many storms together already, I think we can weather the next few as well."

Nobu nuzzled his face into the crook of Charlie's neck, humming gently. It took a moment before he sat back up, looking down at Charlie.

"Yer counting tellin' yer family we're together as one of'em storms?" he asked, all perfect innocence. And Charlie snorted a laugh.

"Oh, that depends on how obnoxious they'll be about it," Charlie answered, stretched and clambered out of bed. "But I ain't tellin' ya nothin' new when I say ou'll fit right in with the bunch o' altruistic hens that me family is."

Now Nobu laughed as well, watching Charlie get dressed.

"Ya warned me before," he joked then, getting up himself.

It wasn't until everything was packed and the train slowed as it neared the station that Charlie fell thoughtful again.

"Penny for yer thoughts?" Nobu asked.

Charlie looked at him, and then at the window, watching the scenery go by.

"Told ya, still lettin' things sink in. Right now it's mostly the fact that I haven't seen me family in person since Grace's wedding."

Nobu nodded.

"We sure got a lot to tell'em..."

Charlie smirked.

"I reckon those tales will be a good warm up till we get to the big reveal."

"Ya mean that we saved the world or that we got together?"

Charlie pretended to earnestly ponder this.

"Yes," he then said with a cackle, and earned a gentle elbow to the side for it. But Nobu chuckled as well.

"We should go then," Nobu said as the train stopped, shouldering his bag. "I'm certain I saw Ada and Oscar waitin' for us."

~~o~~

Now, Charlie was never the kind of person to get overwhelmed too easily. But arriving at one's family's home and being greeted by around a dozen-something friendly faces will very easily do the trick.

Charlie had barely gotten off the carriage when he was swarmed by various nephews and nieces, and while Oscar carried their luggage inside, Ada took the opportunity to have a small heart-to-heart with Nobu a bit away from the group.

"Whatever ya did after Potter's Springs musta been a big one to get Charlie to come home for good after all this time," she said, watching Charlie for a bit.

Nobu smiled askew.

"Don't be like that. Ya know how much he'd have loved to be here more often. An' yer one to talk. Yer always out an' about yerself." Then Nobu realized something and his eyes grew wide. "Wait, how do ya know about..."

"Potter's Springs? Josie wrote to me when that Pinkerton agent of yers got ya stuck in town for a bit." Ada smiled slyly. "Can't believe ya an' Charles worked with a bloody Pinkerton."

Nobu sighed.

"Neither could we."

"Did ya leave him to rot in the end?"

Nobu furrowed his brow.

"No. Truth be told, he... he's not that bad a person. And he quit his job."

Ada chuckled.

"Good call." She patted Nobu's back. "Come, ya gotta meet the other new members o' the family."

Nobu nodded and followed her, only to stop dead in his tracks when he realized something else.

"W-why did ya word it like that?"

With a smirk, Ada waved him to follow.

"I'll tell ya when Charlie's in hearin' range. Would spoil all the fun otherwise."

By all means, Nobu couldn't say that that sounded promising, but there was nothing else he could do but follow.

About ten or fifteen minutes later Nobu and Charlie had been introduced to all the new members of the family, and another ten till they were seated on a large and nicely decorated breakfast table.

Something that made Charlie squirm with a bit of embarrassment.

"Ya did this all for us?" he asked, to which his mother ruffled his hair after putting a basket of boiled eggs down.

"Ya been away from home for so long, Charlie, and ya pulled quite a stunt in New Hamelin." As you and Charlie blinked a little confused, Charlie's mother smiled and retrieved a newspaper from the shelf, handing it over. "We do get the papers out here, Charles. An' yer not goin' to tell me this kinda thing isn't right up yer alley."

Charlie cleared his throat quite abashed, putting the paper back down.

"Well, yes..." he began.

"Glad to see ya ended on a high note," Ada noted. "One last big thing before you an' Nobu settled down. So, what are yer plans now?"

Charlie quirked a brow.

"Get a job, I guess."

"As what?" Ada teased. "With yer skillset ya'd be best suited for politics, but ya got too good a heart for that."

Charlie snorted a curt laugh and leaned back.

"Yer kind as always, Ada. I was thinking 'journalism'. Maybe writing. Good respectable work, that."

Something about this made a smile tug on Nobu's lips.

There was some agreeing murmuring, some nodding and some eyerolling around the table, before Ada looked at Nobu.

"An' you?"

Nobu winced, taking a deep breath.

"I dunno yet. I-I mean I'm no good with words an' all, but... maybe I can find something at a bookstore in the city. A library. Ya know I like to read."

"Well, good to know Charlie will have someone to read what he put out," Ada quipped, grabbing the breadbasket and helping herself to a small tower of rolls. "But that aside, why don't ya tell us the whole story."

"Yes," Grace chimed in. "What happened that made ya finally decide to settle down with Nobu."

"Well, it's quite a long..." Charlie began, but then narrowed his eye at his sister. "Why did ya word it like that?"

Grace giggled in response, while Ada did her best to not start laughing out loud. Charlie cast Nobu a suspicious glance, and Nobu, albeit just for a moment, wished the ground would open and swallow him whole.

"I think they know," Nobu mumbled, and Charlie frowned.

"We suspected," Ada corrected. "Since Grace's wedding, the way the two o' yer been with each other..."

"Why didn't ya say anything?" Charlie protested, to which Grace spoke up.

"Charlie, that kinda thing is something the two of ya had to come to terms with for yerself," she said. "But to tell the truth, if ya wouldn't have gotten together by now Ada woulda set out to screw yer heads back on right."

Charlie and Nobu turned their gazes to Ada, who smiled back self-satisfied.

"Look at ya two," she said. "Ya've been workin' together so well since ya met, and one would have to be really oblivious to not notice that." He smile softened. "But I know yer both... yer both the kind of people who deny themselves that anything good can ever happen to them for a longer time. But..."

Charlie waved her off, taking a deep breath.

"We... already figured we're oblivious fools, no need to rub it in," he said, clearing his throat.

"That you are," Ada agreed, and smiled. "But we're all happy ya finally figured it out."

Charlie smiled at Nobu, and Nobu smiled back, nudging Charlie's leg below the table.

"But now let's eat," Ada called, "before it all gets cold."

"Can't argue with that," Charlie muttered, getting Nobu to chuckle.

~~o~~

"Charlie?" Nobu asked as they sat on a bank in the house's small garden, catching their breath after breakfast.

"Mhnn?"

"I've been thinking."

"About?"

"What do ya think?" Nobu smiled, resting his head against Charlie's shoulder. "About what yer family said. About us. We been so busy with wrappin' our heads 'round what happened in Devil's Creek, an' us being two godforsaken fools that we didn't even think about just what we're goin' to do now."

Charlie smiled, leaned his head against Nobu's and laid an arm around the other man.

"We still had a good answer to it, don't ya think?"

Nobu pondered this.

"Yes, but... I mean I can imagine ya writin' books, but I-I can't see myself sellin' any... or anything."

Charlie pressed a gentle, careful kiss to Nobu's temple.

"I'm sure ya can," he said, squeezing Nobu's shoulder. "An' we got time now. We're not on the run anymore."

"There's still people who have a bone or two to pick with us."

Charlie nodded with a sigh.

"I know. But we can handle them. Settling down doesn't mean lettin' one's guard down, now does it."

Nobu nodded.

"Are ya scared," Charlie asked softly.

"A bit. Not just about that... about everythin'."

"Me too, that much I can tell ya." Charlie looked forlornly at the sky for a moment, caressing Nobu's shoulder absentmindedly. "It's weird, innit?"

"Mhnn?"

"All the things we've been through an' this is what we're scared 'bout the most."

"Well," Nobu began, pondering. "I guess it's 'cause we've never been in such a situation before. It was always 'us and where we go from here for the next hustle'. Now it's... Us and where we'll go from here for us."

Charlie chuckles gently.

"Yeah, it is." Then he shuffled around, looking at Nobu. "Well, where do we go from here?"

Nobu blinked.

"Didn't we just talk 'bout that?" he wondered.

"I mean literally," Charlie said, leaning back again and looking up at the sky wistfully. "The world is big, Nobu. There's a lot of places to go an' see, an' about as much to stay there for a bit longer than we usually do. So, where do we go from here? See the world? Build a small house somewhere on the frontier? Go back to civilization?"

Charlie's gaze was gentle and free of any sarcasm as he looked back at Nobu. And Nobu just smiled, just as gentle and honest, before he cuddled against Charlie again, laying the other man's arm around his shoulder once more.

"I don't know yet. I guess I'll see," he said, entwining his fingers with Charlie's.

Charlie chuckled softly, giving Nobu's hand a soft squeeze.

"Yes... But... it's funny. I know one thing for certain." He smiled and cupped Nobu's chin, pressing a tender, loving kiss onto the other's lips. "I won't go anywhere without you by my side."

[just-benni]

i don’t wanna be okay without you

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: Y/N gets an undeniable job offer that Bucky wants her to take. But if she accepts, it will mean long distance for them.

warning: angst, bit of fluff, mentions of sex

An offer of a lifetime, and everyone was calling her crazy for considering any option other than accepting it. The job, although a temporary one, it consisted of everything one would want in a job. The pay was good, the other benefits, and above all, it was Y/N’s dream career. If she were to take it, it would give her beneficial experience and overall good exposure. There was just one thing making this offer too good to be true and it held her back from making a final decision.

Y/N’s thoughts were interrupted when Bucky set the car in park. She didn’t allow him to open the door for her like he usually would. Tonight, the two of them were not on good terms. They were both out to dinner with her parents when her father brought up the job offer. Bucky was kind enough to step in and talk to Y/N’s father about it, seeing that she were uncomfortable. Y/N decided to speak up eventually, the comment she made insinuating that she didn’t want the job offer. From there it went down hill. Bucky and Y/N’s father both had the same expression of shock, showing off the creases in their foreheads.

Her mother, however, swiftly changed the conversation and to Y/N’s relief, the job offer was not brought up again. That changed the moment she walked away from saying goodbye to her parents, Bucky had bombarded her with questions. Eventually, she snapped at him and the rest of the ride was filled with silence or Y/N commanding Bucky to slow the vehicle down. The silence remained between the two all the way up to their shared apartment.

It wasn’t until she stepped through the door that Y/N finally spoke, “I don’t wanna talk about it. Tomorrow maybe but not now, not tonight.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” she could see from the corner of her eye, Bucky shaking his head as he shrugged off his coat. “You realize that, right?”

He seemed almost disappointed in the hesitation. Y/N hadn’t recognize how much Bucky really wanted this for her. She wondered if that opinion of his would change after he knew the entirety of it; the reason that was holding her back from saying yes.

“I said I don’t wanna talk about it. Please.”

“We’re talking about it tomorrow.” His voice was husk, evident that he was still angry. Regardless, Bucky laid a kiss on her head. It was a forceful peck that made her flinch, not going unnoticed by him but he let it go.

He stomped his way down the hall into bathroom to take his shower. Y/N didn’t even wait to hear the click of the door to break down silently. She stayed upright, leaning against the wall, and forced her way to the other end of the apartment knowing she wouldn’t be able to hold back the sobs. She felt like she were already losing him.

It didn’t take her long to get those tears out of her system. By the time she gathered herself, she had taken off her makeup and changed into some pajamas, waiting patiently for Bucky. From how long he was taking, she could tell he was shaving. She feared that the longer she waited the more likely she would be to get in her head and back out from telling him.

He stood for a few moments in the doorway when he finally entered the room. He examined her head to toe, waiting for the right words to come to him. His face had that look telling Y/N he was sorry. She nodded, and patted his side of the bed all while managing to keep her voice from shaking, “Will you come sit?”

“Were you crying?” He discarded his dirty clothes into the hamper, slowly shifting his way over to Y/N.

“Why don’t you come sit.” He hesitated a bit, sat down on the bed. Not to the spot she suggested but instead to the edge of mattress on her side of the bed. Without hesitation, Bucky took Y/N’s hand and gave it an affirmative squeeze; the sincere gesture only made Y/N want to break down into tears again. 

“What’s goin’ on, Y/N?” His question lingered with concern. “Seriously, you’ve got to tell me so I can help you.”

She wiped a tear and looked to the comforter. Anywhere but his eyes, she couldn’t handle his piercing blue eyes. They weren’t approachable at a time like this. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

“What is it?”

“Everything I told you about the job offer is true but the part I left out is that it’s located out of the country.”

“Oh.” His mouth dropped open and it was like he’d forgotten every word in the English language.

“If I say yes, they’ll send me out to London.”

“London, as in, England?”

“Yes.”

“You knew this whole time and you haven’t told me?” She sighed. “I’m not mad, Y/N. But something as important as that, it would’ve been nice to know sooner.”

“If I told you sooner, we would’ve had this conversation sooner. I know it was selfish and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but I wasn’t ready to talk about it with you just yet,” her voice couldn’t go any higher than a whisper. “That’s why I’ve been putting up this front the past few days. I don’t wanna take it.”

“No, it’s okay Y/N. This opportunity, you have to take it.”

“I can’t, Buck.” She finally looked him in the eye, shaking her head. Her voice cracked and tears flooded her eyes. “I can’t do it. I don’t want to be away from you.”

“It’s okay.” Bucky repeated it again and again while comforting her. He kissed her head and pulled her into his lap, holding her close and letting her cry into his shoulder. The thought of being away from Bucky kept the streams of tears going. Other negative thoughts trailed in eventually but she was so drained of energy and finding that she was out of tears. 

Y/N managed to rest her eyes and catch her breath from the breakdown she just had. What was only supposed to be a few moments turned into her accidentally falling asleep, still being held in Bucky’s lap. She felt him trying to move careful and slow when setting her to lay down. Half awake, she clutched his arm and stirred awake.

“You alright?” He swept a chunk of hair out of her face to tuck behind her ear. Bucky went to retract his hand but Y/N moved it to her cheek. “Want something to drink?”

“Not really. I just want you.”

“London, huh? It’s a good thing you’re a tea-over-coffee kinda person.” Bucky lips curled upward but he was only putting on a face to send some sort of approval her way. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

Their mouths met in a chaste kiss, then Bucky giving her another short one for good measure. He walked to his side of the bed and got under the covers. Both of them were now turned at their side, facing each other.

“I know you’re trying to lift my spirits but it’s not as great as you’re making it out to be. No life without you is a good one, I know that much.”

“It’s been a long day, Y/N. I need to process this and you need rest, desperately.”

“Tell me how you really feel. Because if you love me as much as you say you do then that means you must be hurting too.”

Bucky sighed, lying on his back now. He tried forcing himself further into the mattress, finding it impossible to get comfortable. “I’m feeling a lot of things.”

“You’re good at hiding it.” And she absolutely despised him for it sometimes.

“Tomorrow, Y/N.” She found his hand under the blanket and just kept it laid over his as they both drifted into sleep.

[morning, the next day]

Y/N woke up from a peaceful slumber which surprised her because of how emotional she was the previous night. Because she still hadn’t talked to Bucky about what he thinks, it left her final moments awake anxious filled.

She looked over to her side and relief washed over her, seeing Bucky asleep. Y/N weighing out the likelihood of going to London, she wanted to do one of her favorite things to do with Bucky: to lay in bed and cuddle, forgetting about commitments or how much time has passed. And a plus side, sometimes—majority of the time—cuddling led to some great morning sex.

She lightly kissed along his bicep, his chest, his neck, jaw, all along his face, and by then he’d stirred awake so she laid a quick kiss to his lips to finish it off.

“I’m surprised you’re not up before me.”

“It was hard to fall asleep last night.”

Y/N winced, feeling bad. “In that case, I shouldn’t have woken you. Sorry.” 

“You just wanna use me for cuddles, I assume?” Bucky could feel the vibration of her chuckle. It was a relief to hear her laugh. It was a drastic difference from the distraught state she was in last night.

Y/N draped one of her legs shamelessly over one of his. Her head fell onto his shoulder, just above his chest. They fit perfect against each other, part of the reason she loved it so much. And Bucky secretly loved it, no matter how much he acted like he didn’t want her affection. 

“You feeling okay?” He asked after nearly falling back asleep.

“Um, yeah. Better than last night.” She aimlessly drew shapes on his stomach and tracing over his prominent muscles.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking of how I won’t get to wake up next to you or be able to hug and kiss you.” After some silence she continued, “If we go long distance, it won’t work Bucky.”

“Don’t say that,” he scolded. “Why would you say something like that?”

“We have to be honest with ourselves.”

“It’s okay to have doubts but I’m willing to at least try, and so should you. Yes, it’ll be challenging. But you really think it’ll break us apart?”

“What then? Messages and FaceTime calls aren’t going to be enough. What if one day you decide you don’t love me anymore? All I want is for you to be happy.”

“You do make me happy. You.”

“You deserve someone who can give you their all, from here in New York, not from thousands of miles away.”

“Don’t say that, I’m—you’re it for me.”

“I don’t wanna go.” She didn’t intend to sound as whiny as she did. Bucky was ticked off by the conversation, separating from Y/N to begin his day.

“Why don’t I come with you?”

“And let your business with Steve plummet to the ground? No.”

“He would understand.”

“You’re not wrong about that but regardless, he needs you.”

“Then I’m gonna visit any chance I get. We’re gonna work this out.” Her mind instantly translate that out to, you’re going to London. “I’m making breakfast.”

Y/N remained in bed and browsed a number of apps on her phone for a few minutes until she finally decided it was time to join Bucky. She shuffled into the kitchen and sat at one of the barstools as Bucky was in the early stages of cooking something up. Breakfast was a specialty of his. 

She didn’t know how to start up the conversation, which was ridiculous considering it was Bucky. It was rare that she felt this sort of discomfort in Bucky’s presence, but he took it upon himself to ask, “How come you didn’t tell me sooner? About London.”

“You already asked me this.”

“Well I’m asking you again.”

“Part of me didn’t want you to know. I thought about not telling you even at all.” She thanked Bucky when he handed her a cup of coffee. Continuing, “I knew if you knew, you’d force me to go and I just don’t wanna be away from you.”

“It’s just 18 months Y/N, it won’t be forever.”

“Seems like forever. Like I’m gonna miss out on so much.” Y/N forced herself not to think about it, tired of all the emotions and tears. She sighed, “18 months.”

“Well if you think about it, the lease for this apartment is up in nine months.”

Y/N shot a questionable look his way. “I don’t think I see where you’re going with this.”

“I’ll renew the lease or have something worked out. That way, by the time you get back, we can figure out where we want to live and we find a house. That was the plan all along, no? It just might have to be delayed, that’s all.”

“Initially, the plan was to live with each other for 12 months and come out without killing or injuring each other.” Y/N wore a mischievous grin on her face. “Remember that conversation?”

“You hated me for a while.” Bucky laughed to himself. “It’s safe to say we’re compatible though, no? You haven’t killed me thus far. And you’re bareable to live with, long term. Maybe we can get a house that comes with a working dishwasher.”

“Ooh, yes.”

It was a no brainer they would end up together. Bucky would be the one she married and grew a life together with. Even their friends have complimented how well they fit one another.

Bucky stared at her with a prideful grin, making Y/N grow timid like she used to when they first started dating. “What?” She asked through laughter. “What are you up to?”

“You’re gonna do great in London.”

“But what if-“

Bucky read her so well, already on his way to be at her side and comfort her. “Don’t ‘what if’, I told you, you’re it for me, okay? Whatever you think—that I might fall out of love with you—it’s not gonna happen.”

Finally, relief hit her. Bucky has proven himself over again, it was no doubt that he was in it for the long run erasing over all her doubts. Y/N got choked up from his words and the intensity of his gaze. “I was really wrong about you.”

“In what way?” He slyly maneuvered her out of the chair and placed her to stand on her feet. Bucky tangled his arms around her to rest at her lower back.

“I thought maybe you’d be upset that I got offered to go to London. But I think you’re more supportive now than you ever were before. I kinda hate you for it because that means I’m going to London.”

“You’re going to London,” he repeated following a sigh, burying his head into her neck.

“Are you sad?”

“I don’t wanna think about it.”

“M’sorry, Buck.”

“I wish I could come with you.”

“No you don’t,” she teased. “You are such a New York boy. I can’t imagine you living anywhere else but here.”

They both laughed, Bucky pulling away. “You’re probably right.”

“New York pizza and the people, your people.” Silence broke out and when neither could muster a response, they opted out for a hug. She curled her fingers through his hair. “You’re not gonna need me?”

“I’ll always need you. Definitely.”

“Definitely? Oh, good.”

“But I’ll manage through video-phone calls.” Bucky specifically backed away to see her expression.

Y/N facepalmed, shaking her head a bit. “It’s called FaceTime, Buck.”

“Whatever. I’ll send you letters if I have to.”

“You really think we can do long distance?”

“I’m not losing you and I’m gonna put my all into this to make us work. Just 18 months and I’m yours again.”

“What do you have in mind? How are we going to make this work?”

“Well I assume you’ll be coming back for holidays so there’s that. I’m for sure going to London for your birthday, maybe mine too. Then throw in a few spontaneous visits here and there. It’s only a five hour difference so I’m up by 6AM usually, that means it’s 11AM over there and I can spend my time getting ready and making breakfast talking to you, if you’re not busy. Or by the time I’m out of work it’s about midnight over there. Oh! We have to get you those power adapters—“

“You’re it for me too.” Y/N leaned in, closing the space between them. “I love you.”

“I love you more. Come here,” Bucky raised her in his arms, setting her to sit on the counter. “You believe me when I tell you we can make this work?”

“I do.”

Bucky felt his heart squeeze, hoping to hear those words again one day.

He stood in between her legs with his hands reaching under her shirt, doing more wandering than they probably should have been. “It’s not gonna be easy or perfect in any way but I would rather us take up the challenge than for you to give up your dream because of me. I would never forgive myself if I let you stay here and waste your potential.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, love.” He horribly mimicked a British accent. The couple physically cringed at it which quickly translated into laughter.

“Might wanna stick to cooking.”

After that lighthearted moment, Bucky went back to making breakfast as she shuffled through yesterday’s mail. Then it occurred to Y/N. “Bucky?”

“Yes, love?”

“What about sex?” Bucky drops his spatula to the floor, the plastic clanking against the tile.

His eyebrows raised and from the reaction he gave off, she burst out laughing. Bucky laughed along with her and replied with a sarcastic remark. “On second thought, I don’t think London is a good fit for you.”

“Bucky!” She yelped when Bucky lifted her up, forcing her against the closest wall. “What are you doing?”

“You’re going to London so it’s only logical that I start makin’ love to you now.” He said against her neck, lightly sucking at the skin there. “Give you something to remember me by.”

The moment was interrupted by the alarm of the oven and his stomach gurgling. She cupped his face in both of her hands. “Sounds like a plan for today but food first.”

“Yes ma’am.” He kissed her sweetly, “Looking forward to it.”

[gumnut-logic]

For the spin the prompt:

Stab wound and cliff side with um...Scott & Alan. (You’ll throw Virg in anyway...)

(Seems to be a recurring theme here)

Okay, this happened. I hope you enjoy whatever it is :D

Spin the wheel and send me a character and a prompt :D

-o-o-o-

“Alan, calm down. It was an accident.”

It was said through gritted teeth. This was not something he expected he would have to weather when training his youngest brother in basic mountain climbing.

But then there had been the incident with the hammer with Gordon...and John, while extremely athletic had absolutely terrified Scott with the mild hypothermia incident.

Virgil...well, Uncle Lee had taught Virgil with Scott so big brother escaped that.

Though come to think of it, Uncle Lee did have a scar.

But it wasn’t as big as this one was going to be.

“I’m sorry, Scott. I’m so sorry!”

He drew in a breath and let it out ever so slowly. “Calm down. We will handle this like any emergency. Scout’s oath, Alan?”

And he made his little brother recite it, thankful that it seemed to focus the fourteen year old. “Accidents happen, it’s how we respond to the accidents that matters, now secure yourself and contact John.”

Scott did his best to attach himself to the ice face as well. It took him a few extra moments working through pain and the inability to move without it.

An ice pick through his calf did that.

It was an accident. Scott had moved unexpectedly and Alan had picked at the ice at just the wrong moment in time.

“Thunderbird Five, we need help.”

A simple, but concise message.

“Alan? What’s wrong?”

The tremor in Alan’s voice as he reported the incident hurt Scott more than the ice axe.

“It’s going to be okay, Allie. I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.” It was a wail.

“It happens. I’ll be fine.” Looking down was awkward, and yes, his climbing pants were an uncomfortable shade of red, but he had confidence in his brothers. They would be off this mountain in no time.

Fortunately, Virgil and Gordon had stayed back on the Island while Scott both took a break on Aotearoa’s South Island and began some basic training for his youngest brother.

Apparently, he would be off rota longer than expected.

“Should I try to bandage it.”

“No.” Scott shifted a little and regretted it. “Virgil will be here soon.” It wasn’t like his brother was far away at Thunderbird speeds. He could imagine Virgil flying down that ridiculous chute of his this very moment. Five minutes, maybe.

“I’m sorry, Scott.”

“Allie, it happens.” A swallow. “Did I ever tell you about how I learnt to drive?” Distraction was the key.

“No? Didn’t Parker teach you? Gordon still raves about his lessons.”

Another swallow. “Yeah, he did. Had to repair a lot of pink paintwork for his efforts.”

“What? You smashed up FAB1?!”

“Kinda.” Yeah, now it was really starting to hurt. hanging from the side of a mountain with blood dripping into the abyss wasn’t his favourite past time. C’mon, Virg, hurry up. “Parker was not impressed.” Scott flexed his own axe in one hand and dug into the ice and secured an extra piton which he then looped into his harness.

Didn’t hurt to be extra secure.

“How? Did Parker actually let you drive FAB1?”

“Kinda. Not really. He has another pink car.” A grimace. “Still goes fast.” And it had hit that tree rather hard. Sometimes he swore he could still hear the echoes of the lecture he received from both Parker and his father about driving too fast.

Cars were not planes and did not respond quite the same way.

Didn’t help that England drove on the wrong side of the road. It was all cack-handed.

He tightened his fist and loosened his shoulders.

“Scott, you okay?” That tremor still hurt.

“Virgil will be here any moment.” And as if summoned, a streak of green tore into the sky above them.

And planes weren’t Thunderbirds. The sight of the big green behemoth was such a relief.

His comms. “Hey, Virg. Need a hand.”

“Coming down.” Two spun slowly midair and opened her bay doors. A moment and the rescue rig, complete with two frowning brothers descended from her belly.

“He’s going to kill me.”

Another sigh. “No, he won’t. He’s Virgil. He will just run you through climbing safety ad nauseam.”

“Gordon is never going to let me live it down.”

A blink. “Yeah, you may be right about that.”

“I’m sorry, Scott. I really am.”

“I know, Allie, I know.”

-o-o-o-

[lycomorpha]

The flora of AC Valhalla - Part 1: some botanical considerations

Least yellow sorrel from AC Valhalla, which I’m currently drawing

My last few posts have been about the botany of Horizon Zero Dawn. But right now I’m sneaking in to talk about Assassin’s Creed Valhalla (Ubisoft), before my collaborator Maria & I get back to freeze-rime root. (Maria is off rn and I can’t be left alone for 5 minutes, apparently). I love ACV and I’ve been drawing fungi and plants from that world too, but it’s a very different environment to HZD.

This post is about the botanical anomalies of ACV - as much to get them out of the way before any real botanists get mad at me as anything! Then next time I’ll share a quick survey of familiar flora from one of my favourite locations – the Temple of Ceres in the Forest of Denu (aka the Forest of Dean)

Lichens in AC Valhalla - probably oakmoss (Evernia species) or a Ramalina species if I had to guess

Video game botany in 9th century England

I don’t wanna dwell on them but there are some plant-related things in this game that may vex actual botanists (I am not a botanist, being an artist-pharmacologist is weird enough on its own). So I want to say; yes, we know about those things, but it’s more fun not to get hung up on that and to enjoy the wildlife as we find it. So let’s talk about that stuff before we get into the weeds (or in this case, the ancient woodland wildlife).

Location

ACV is set somewhere familiar to me – the UK, where I live. A lot of the plants are very recognisable, but familiarity can trip you up. It’s easy to assume you know what something is based on where you find it, without looking closely enough at a plant’s characteristics.

However, it’s not always familiarity causing me double-takes. Many plants have a much more widespread distribution in-game than irl and several of the plants (and a few animals) didn’t appear in 9th Century England where ACV is largely set. Much like Maria (who is a botanist) doesn’t begrudge AC Odyssey those Opuntia and Bougainvillea that prematurely appeared in her homeland… I’m just gonna mention it when it happens & move on. I do not grudge over this kinda shit tbh. Besides, when it comes to animals and skulls, what’s to say they didn’t arrive via trade with Vinland - an area of the game on the north American continent I think - or Europe?

Possible Mule deer skull on a cursed zone marker. Not a species I’d expect here - maybe traded via Vinland? Didn’t stop me sketching it anyway. I drew it from memory before the screen cap so I miiight have made that string of bones a tad oversized. Also I didn’t capture how the skull is attached to the post - only worked that out after zooming in....

Seasonality

It leads to some cognitive dissonance seeing oaks and beeches in their autumn colours next to spring bluebells, summer flowers, and winter fungi in ACV. I kinda like that in some ways - it means we get to see all the good plants/fungi regardless of what quests we’re playing and when. (Big fan of moors & autumn, glad everyone gets a chance at seas of pink heather or fiery bracken). I also imagine seasons are hard from a design standpoint - the UK flora changes so distinctively in time, but the game doesn’t have a fixed time of year or months to go on. It’s open world and the story has no particular season attached to quests, for the most part. (Yes I know… Yule & Ostara in the settlement, Samhain in Gloucester, these are festivals that come with dates... Listen. Half my family are pagan, I’m very done about how accurate those aspects are or aren’t. Pls let’s never speak of this again.) Anyway… Given seasons aren’t essential the story, I think it’s fair enough to somewhat smoosh them into one (sorry botanists) even if it looks a bit weird. And hey, bluebells in autumn woods = all the best colours at once, whoop whoop!

You get all seasons at once around Ravensthorpe

Scale

The size of some plants in ACV is… unexpected. But as mentioned in past posts; if you want to interact with a plant/fungi/insect it has to be big enough for players to see. There are also many plants we don’t directly interact with in the game that are very much larger on screen than they are in reality. Again, I’ll just mention it as and when… (And point at this post to say ‘yes we know’ if any botanists pick me up on my shit, heh.) But truly, I wish we had giant brittlegills and wood sorrels that were as big as me bc THAT would be awesome.

Surprisingly large sorrels & ginormous winter chanterelles

OK that is about as many things as I can think of for this post. Now I’m gonna get on with enjoying the ACV botany!

[balenciagastones]

hi im kinda new to this can you pls explain to me why everybody hates lauryn? all i know is she wants kyle to be a dad and he isn't

here we go! putting this under the cut so i don’t flood people’s dash who don’t care <3

okay so bit of backstory first cos im gonna try and do this in chronological order, she is chloe goodman’s sister and she used to go out with marcus rashford’s brother, apart from that she was pretty much a nobody. i also dk how much you know about kyle but basically he’s been with annie for agessss and they have 3 sons together. at the start of 2020 it came out that lauryn was pregnant with a mystery england footballer’s baby and it was kept a secret who it was for ages and just said that they were in a whirlwind romance and the baby was a miracle because she has endometriosis and pos meaning she would struggle to conceive naturally. it was outed cos of pap photos that have been said were staged by her, pretty much the whole of this has been staged by her tbh but it was later announced that the baby daddy was kyle walker and all hell broke loose tbh.

all throughout her pregnancy and a bit after the baby was born she wouldn’t reveal the gender but constantly baited it and hyped it up and drew a lot of attention to the baby’s gender (a little bit of backstory to this is that annie obviously has 3 boys as we said before but she always always wanted a girl and has always been v public with that fact, she also had a miscarriage which wasn’t talked about until after the baby was born but hindsight makes this whole gender situation worse but back to the story). her sister was also pregnant at the same time as her and was public saying she was having a girl so lauryn used to post stories with girls’ baby clothes and pink things in basically to just bait she was having a girl when she knew all along it was a boy, there’s literally no reason for this apart from her wanting to spite annie and imply that she was having a girl baby with the man she loved to hurt her for no reason.

cut forward to when the baby is born and she starts to promote these bracelets which have different ones for different situations, so she has one for anxiety, one for sleep, one for fertility (you can see where this is going) and there’s a few points with these scam bracelets. first off she came out and said she was wearing one at the time she slept with kyle so this baby perhaps wasn’t so much an accident on her part as she was manifesting fertility and that she’d become pregnant basically, take from that what you will but it was clearly her intention to fall pregnant with his baby when she knew he was with another woman long term and had 3 little boys with her. and the second part to it is just what an absolute scam those bracelets are, they’re not cheap and they target vulnerable groups of people and profit off their struggles which is obviously so immoral and disgusting when a fuckin bead bracelet clearly can’t make you fertile or make you sleep better or any of this shit, it’s taking advantage of people in desperate need and taking money from vulnerable people, it’s awful.

so now the baby is born and she’s said it’s a boy but hasn’t announced the name and allegedly didn’t pick the name until he was 4 months old or something, but she decides that they need a name to call him so decide to say his name is junior. now you can immediately see the issue with this, she’s been banging on for the whole of her pregnancy that she’s a single mother and he’s not involved blah blah blah then calls him junior, which ofc people asked if the name was kyle junior and she as much as said it was and started referring to him as junior until she posted a video of the baby holding a necklace that said KW. obviously calling your baby junior implies that they have the dad’s name and are the jr version of the dad so when she posted the KW necklace alongside a caption that said ‘for those asking why it doesn’t say JW, KW are his true initials’ ofc everybody assumed his name was kyle walker junior, and she let this go on for 6 MONTHS. she wore this necklace that says KW everywhere it’s lit in all of her instagram photos, it literally came across as a trophy just shouting that she got knocked up by kyle walker and just using it as a constant reminder to anyone and everyone that her baby was half famous footballer kyle walkers regardless of whether he was involved or not, baring in mind in the same breath she’s continuing to go on about how she’s a single mother and doing it all on her own. her saying she’s doing it all on her own is a load of shit too because her family helps her constantly and she always has someone looking after him with her and she lives in a big fancy house so she’s putting across she’s struggling and a single mother out on her own but that’s not the truth.

she also kept giving questionable parenting advice out on her story and endorsing products and methods that weren’t the most effective and weren’t recommended, even a blanket method that im sure was said to be harmful and she’s promoted many products that she shouldn’t have just in the name of money and fame and clout, she isn’t qualified to be giving out parenting advice to the scale she is and i understand she’s gotten experience but she talks like she’s a professional and holds q&as giving advice she’s not qualified to give and considering she promotes half dodgy products, it’s not the best situation. two more random things before we’re caught up to what’s happened today, she put the baby in a city jersey then the next week put him in a liverpool jersey just to spite kyle LMAO and they all went on holiday to dubai and im pretty sure paparazzi isnt allowed in dubai that’s why all the celebs go there but she was papped there so she must’ve set that up too lmaoooooo. but now we’re at today.

basically it started by kyle posting a picture of his own personal football boots that he played in for the final match of the season im sure, and he had printed on the names and dates of birth of all 3 kids he had with annie, and as you can quite imagine, lauryn wasn’t very happy with this. so she went straight on her stories preaching how horrific it was that he didn’t include kairo’s name on his boots and he’s done nothing but he cute and innocent and kyle was ‘bullying’ his own son which is obvs the wrong word to use but she’s daft and has been throwing around the word bullying, and talking about how she won’t let their son be left out, baring in mind she constantly says how she’s a single mother and prides herself on that she doesn’t have him involved and that he’s a horrible person etc etc. so all of her little minions who love her started replying to her story saying he was disgusting blah blah blah and decided as a collective with her encouragement to spam his page with kairo’s name and demand justice for kairo or something so after he got a few comments he turned the comments off from the post about the boots so they went to his first post before the boots which was a memorial post for the victims of the manchester arena attack. fully grown women commenting on a memorial post for such a tragic event demanding to know where kairos name was or spamming his name letter by letter, first off it’s just batshit crazy but second off how disrespectful?? from lauryn as well to encourage it and think of nobody but herself and want the attention because realistically it wasn’t gonna achieve anything but slightly irk him that he had to turn the comments off.

she’s also been encouraging people to email puma themselves and demand to know why they did it as if they had any input on what kyle had on his personal boots, puma probably had no idea about any of this and certainly didn’t do it on purpose to cause a storm so there’s no reason for them to be complaining to puma. she posted a list of what she wanted to happen including kyles post to be removed, the boots to be pulled (i don’t think she realises they were just personal boots for kyle and not a product for the general public to buy), a public apology to kairo and a public statement to be put out, none of which would solve the greater situation or help the situation that’s already been caused.

she posted saying kyle was bullying the baby and mentally abusing him which is disgusting to be throwing around when that’s not the case at all cos in reality kyles just trying to mend his relationships with annie and his family while keeping lauryn and the baby out of it like she keeps going on about, but then when it comes down to it she uses his surname, posts about it 24/7, wants his name on his boots, uses him for clout, walks around with a KW necklace on etc etc etc. most recently she’s created a petition to get pumas attention to do all of what i listed before and i think about 600 people have signed it so far.

i think that’s all although im sure anons will chip in if ive missed anything, that’s if anybody’s actually read this far 😭 so yes, more than you bargained for probably anon! story time with han! xx

[allthingshetalia]

I absolutely adore your writing style🌸 I'm curious how a female s/o would react, if Arthur accidently sent her back in time, so that she would end up meeting Pirate!England. Would he still love her as much as the modern Arthur does?

💕Ohhhhhh how interesting!! I love unusual prompts! Thank you💕

Well pirate Iggy is quite different than modern Iggy

He is actually kinda scary

So his s/o maybe a little freaked out by him because of his crude language and aggressive nature

Modern Iggy would be very worried

He doesn’t want you to see that side of him

Because he has changed since then

But pirate England would probably fall in love with you

I mean they are still technically the same person- as are you

So whatever drew him into you before is bound to do it again

Lil scenario!

“Captian, we found a little rat on the ship.” A large man chuckled. His grip on your arm tightened and you were absolutely positive you were going to have a bruise.

“Let me go!” You shrieked. You tried pulling you arm away from him, but he just togetherness his grip. A choked, scared whimper left your throat. He opened a large wooden door and pushed you inside. You immediately fell to your knees and you scraped your hands against the rough textured floor. You winced when you felt the skin of your knees break. Heavy boots sounded next to you.

“Oh a woman. How interesting.” The familiar voice of your loved caused your head to snap up. You stared at him in awe. He was no longer in his normal sweaters and trousers. He wore a large tunic and tight black pants, that were tucked into calf high boots. He had a red silk belt, that was holding his holster of his gun and sword. “You may leave us.” He stated, turning to the man who had carried you in here. “Get up.” He grunted. He leaned gained his desk and you quickly shot up, wincing as your sore knees moved.

“Arthur.” You started. He looked at your with a furrow brow.

“How do you know my name?” He asked. He made sure to keep his identity a secret, even though he was feared. People called him all sorts of names like, shadow, grim and even death. He found he rather liked most of the nicknames given to him. He was a country afterall. He couldn’t risk being found out.

“This is going to sound wierd. I am going to ask you to not kill me, just because I sound crazy. But in the future we are married.” You said slowly. You weren’t scared. Even though you probably should’ve been. He held a straight face before laughing obnoxiously.

“That is by far the worst getting out of trouble excuse I have ever heard!” He snickered. He grabbed his gun and your heart drop. He didn’t make move to shoot you as he scratched the bridge of his nose with the barrel. “What are you really doing here hmm? Trying to steal a little gold? Or maybe a map?” He questioned. He waved his gun around intimidatingly. You wracked your brain for an answer.

“You’re a Country.” You shouted. His actions immediately stopped and he stared at you with wide eyes. “You absolutely hate worms. You like the smell of saltwater and you became a pirate for the sole reason that you wanted to wear a hat and carry a sword everywhere. Your favorite color is red and green- but you can’t wear it without feeling like a Christmas tree. Your constant best friend has been flying mint bunny, who is sitting on your desk right now.” You finished and looked at him expectantly. His mouth almost hung to the floor and he looked at you with amazement. He turned his head back and indeed their was a green bunny on his desk.

“How do you know all that?” He murmured.

“I told you, we are married.” You sighed.

“Tell me more.” He leaned forward and outstretched his hands and you placed your hands in his and he pulled you a little closer to him.

“Well in the future you become addicted to tea. Oh and you can buy sugar from a store! You don’t have to run around stealing it all the time.” You giggled as his face was one of wonder. “Your mortal enemy is Francis, but you secretly would miss him if he stopped talking to you.” He blushed and rolled his eyes. “You are going to go through many, many, many rough patches, but trust me when I say everything will get better.” You smiled softly at him. He relaxed slightly at the affirmation.

“When do we meet?” He asked.

“I can’t tell you that. It’ll ruin all the wonder.” You giggled. He saddened a little.

“Are you a Country?” He asked slowly. You shook your head ‘no.’

“But you cast a spell that makes me live as long as you do!” You smiled. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Speaking of Magic. Future you is working on a spell to send me back into the future.” You said. “But until then I was wondering if I could hang around with you? It won’t take that long- I hope.” You chuckled. Arthur quickly nodded his head.

“Absolutely! I promise to keep you safe and away from harm.” He smiled. You leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re still a gentleman.”