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randomfoggytiger · 7 months ago

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Kibbe Body Types, Part 2: David Duchovny

Gillian Anderson's Kibbe analysis here; beginner's guide here.

Okay.

So.

We're going to have to do this analysis a little differently.

David Kibbe has a thorough quiz to type your body correctly... if you're a woman. So... I'm going to have to go around the mulberry bush a bit to arrive at David Duchovny's Kibbe Type.

...Why don't you tag along with me? We'll find out together.

(Spoiler: I already know his Type.)

KIBBE BODY TYPES-- BUT FOR MEN

(**Note**: You can skip this section if extra reading isn't your thing.)

Kibbe identifies female bodies through their height, their hips, their chest, their waist, and their shoulders. However, male bodies are a whole different ballgame: width is the key measure-- of greater importance even than height-- as well as the softness or "fleshiness" of the frame.

THANKFULLY, Aly Art's got my back with this video.

Now: we must identify the yin-- soft, delicate, short, light-- qualities and separate them from the yang-- strong, tall, lean, vertical, angular, sharp-- qualities. Everybody has a blend of those two traits slapped on their skeletons; but Kibbe tried (tries) to keep it as simple as possible.

There are five basic body types; and those five types are divided into yang (sharp) and yin (soft) variants.

Dramatics-- 100% yang energy: tall, lean, strong, hard. They look angular and heavy. Typically have smaller eyes, prominent nose and chin, and thin lips.

Benedict Cumberbatch, Sean Connery, Charlton Heston, Ricardo Montalban, Errol Flyn, Daniel Craig

Soft Dramatics-- predominant yang energy with some yin added: softness and fleshiness added to their sharp, angular frame.

Dean Martin, Christian Bale, Matthew McConoughy, John Travolta, Nicholas Cage, Clark Gable

Flamboyant Naturals-- strong and hard, but with wide, blunted edges. They appear sporty or athletic: moderate to tall height, wider shoulders, and slimmer waists and hips.

Calvin Klein, Dick Van Dyke, Harrison Ford, Clint Eastwood, Tom Selleck (maybe), Michael Landon (maybe), Joe Biden

Soft Naturals-- like the FNs, they are wide, and blunted; but their width is softened by added fleshiness, appearing slightly less tall, less dense and more delicate. They sport plusher, softer cheeks, lips, torso, and thighs; and often appear "cuter" than FNs, Ds, and SDs.

Alan Alda, OJ Simpson, John Wayne, Robert Redford, Robert Conrad, Bing Crosby, Tom Cruise, George Clooney, Gene Kelly, Brad Pit, Gene Hackman

Dramatic Classics-- is an even, "average" mixture of yin and yang elements with a slightly more dominant yang presence. They have a very blended bone structure with tauter cheeks and more predominant facial features.

Carey Grant, John Ham

Soft Classics-- is an even, "average" mixture of yin and yang elements with a slightly more delicate yin presence. They have a very blended bone structure with softer lips and fleshier cheeks.

John Slattery, John Glenn, Gregory Peck, Bryant Gumbel

Romantics-- is 100% yin: smaller, shorter, softer, more delicate. No sharp angles. They appear gentler, less harsh, less "brutally" masculine than their Dramatic and Natural counterparts.

Colin Firth, Leonardo DiCaprio, Elijah Wood, Simon Baker, Richard Gere, Michael Jackson, Omar Shereef, Billy Dee Williams, Elvis Presley

Theatrical Romantics-- is 100% yin with a taut touch of yang to their features: narrow, delicate bones instead of fully-rounded, softly-widened angles.

David Kibbe, Orlando Bloom, Prince, Johnny Depp

Flamboyant Gamines-- an uneven mixture of yin and yang elements, with more pronounced yang in their angularity and sharpness. They have small, rectangular muscularity: angular facial bones, smaller shoulders and torso, some tautness to their physique.

Jimmy Kimmel, Frank Sinatra, Neil Patrick Harris

Soft Gamines-- an uneven mixture of yin and yang elements, with more pronounced yin in their rounded curves and softness. They appear the most "cute" of the types: an even smaller Gamine, with softer cheeks, softer noses, softer lips, bigger eyes, smaller hands, etc.

Fred Astaire, Robert Downy Jr.

THE MAN, THE MYTH, THE MONOTONE

David's frame is dominated by prominent, long vertical lines-- dare I say, blunt edges?-- and shoulders that appear-- or are?-- wider because of his narrow waist and hips.

Using this previous post as a rough guide to map out his features, DD has pronounced yin-- softer cheeks, rounder nose, softened jawbone, softer flesh over his muscles-- but not enough to cover or dominate the long, strong bones in his frame and overall musculature.

I have my suspicions, and they swing Soft Natural (not enough T-bone shoulder to fit Flamboyant Natural); but let's put this theory to the test.

COMPARISON IS OUR REPRIEVE AND JOY

But you ask: how are we going to type the Man, the Myth, the Monotone without a handy dandy reference guide?

Easy peasy. We compare him to other body types and notate the differences.

David and Gamines

We're eliminating Gamines first because their shorter lines, shorter stature, and more angular or rounded bodies are in direct opposition to his longer, denser lines.

Compared to DD's wider shoulders, denser frame, and squarer facial features, Jimmy Kimmel and Lucy Liu (and Theatrical Romantic Gillian Anderson) appear more"weightless", angular, and narrow.

Soft Gamine Winona Ryder and Halle Berry appear weightless as well; but their angular features are tempered by an added layer of softness that corresponds with the fleshiness of David's face.

David and Romantics

We have a look-a-like for this section: Richard Gere, a pure Romantic.

Compared to DD's wide shoulders, slim torso and hips, and more defined musculature (even at his skinniest), Richard is composed of rounded curves, more delicate facial and skeletal bones, and a soft layer of flesh over his torso, arms, thighs, and legs. Even at Richard's fittest, there was still a softness present in his body that could not be chiseled away or hidden.

The two Romantic Type women below-- Drew Barrymore, pure Romantic; Gillian Anderson, Theatrical Romantic-- again highlight the density of David's structure, bringing out a "heavier" presence than the Gamines had previously.

David and Classics

Is David a Classic Type? Frankly, no-- his bones are too long and dense to be moderate and balanced; and he, even more frankly, looks terrible in very quaffed, groomed, and buttoned-up outfits.

Compared to DD's length and width, Dramatic Classics appear more proportionate, their touch of sharpness blending in with-- not rivaling-- the balance of their frames. DC Carey Grant's more balanced edges bring out the angles in DD's face, more so than the Gamines or Romantics did.

By contrast, Soft Classics' proportionate frames contain a touch of softness-- Meryl Streep's yin calls forth David's, appearing more rounded instead of angular or blunt.

David and Dramatics

Compared to David, Dramatics' structure is more elongated, narrow, and angular. Dramatic Benedict Cumberbatch has sharper, more prominent features; less width across his shoulders and torso; and barely any yin to speak of in his face.

(I also suspicion Tea Leoni as a Dramatic; so sneaked her in here.)

Soft Dramatics have the elongated sharpness of the Dramatics with a soft, fleshy padding over the tautness of their features. Compared to SD Christian Bale's sharpness-in-spite-of-his-softness, DD's softer, blunter edges become more obvious.

David and Naturals

And last but not least, we reach the native soil of David Duchovny's body type.

Flamboyant Naturals are a close but not perfect match-- their elongated, blunt width not only matches but exceeds DD's shoulders, torso, arms, legs, and facial features. FN Harrison Ford looks denser, more muscular, and even more athletic when compared to his softer brother from a different mother.

Soft Naturals: finally, David is home! Soft Naturals have the width and length of the FNs Types softened and slightly moderated by an added, pronounced yin quality. Their face, lips, arms, torso, and slim waist appear less blunt (if no less wide); and the dense musculature of their frame is less noticeable in comparison.

LINES, SILHOUETTES, AND OTHER FASHION ADVICE

Now that David's found his SN kind, I shall pack him up a little box lunch of good wardrobe advice to take with him. ...Or that was the theory, except it is notoriously hard to get my hands on Kibbe Body Type advice for men.

I shall do my best to transcribe and transform Aly Art's excerpts (here) from David Kibbe's Metamorphosis book:

"Soft Natural: it is the overall combination of the very soft yin with the yang undercurrent. Slightly soft and fleshy body type on an angular frame combined with an appealing, innocent essence.

Height: moderate.... Bone structure: slightly angular bones, slightly broad shoulders, moderate to slightly short limbs, slightly leggy look also possible. Blunt or small and irregular facial contours-- nose, cheekbones, and jawline. Hands and feet are moderate and fleshy, or slightly small and wide. Body type: slightly soft..... Facial features: full and rounded. Round eyes, round eyes, full lips, soft cheeks. Nose tends small and wide; or slightly irregular, blunt or wide. If overweight, the body tends to become extremely soft and fleshy, with the waist thickening. The upper hips, arms, and thighs tend to collect excess weight most rapidly.

"Physically, you are basically angular in bone structure-- although this is softened by a fleshy body type and full facial features.... To disperse your soft yin undercurrent..., we want to develop an appearance that could best be described as fresh and sensual....

"Shape: Asymmetric and irregular curves-- elongated ovals, wide circles, ellipticals, and so on. Relaxed geometrics with rounded edges, easy swirls. You might not look as good in sharp geometrics; in wide, chunky, and boxy shapes; in plain, symmetrical shapes; in overly ornate shapes.

"Line and silhouette: unconstructed silhouette with shaping, particularly at waist. Relaxed lines with subtle drape and flow, particularly bias cuts.

You might not look as good in wide, shapeless silhouettes; in sharp, severe silhouettes; in symmetrical silhouettes; in fitted silhouettes.

"Details: details should be loose, relaxed, delicate, slightly intricate, and very creative. Any detail that suggests a bit of antique or the earth is excellent. Shoulders should not be sharp or stiff. Necklines should be loose and soft, not closed, restricted, or fussy. Simple draped necklines; soft cowls; soft notched collars; clean lapels; shawl collars; and so on. Waist should be defined, although loosely: there can be a slightly blousy effect with the top draped over the waistline, or a slightly dropped waist as long as the silhouette is fluid. Gathers and falls should be deep, full, and soft; sleeves can be full and flowing, or gently tapered at the wrist with minimum detail.

"Trim should be delicate and antique, shearing applique, and so on. You might not look as good in sharply tailored detail, in no detail, in overly fitted and fussy detail, in animated, perky detail."

Conclusion

David Duchovny's gonna do and wear what he's gonna do and wear. And that's just fine.

Thanks for reading~

And take care of yourselves.

Enjoy!

#txf #but not #Kibbe Body Types #Part 2 #David Duchovny #DD #randomfashiontiger #fashion #what is this fashion arc #I had questions and I wanted ANSWERS #sometimes it's as simple as that #felt like switching up the ending #it might just stick too

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xipiti · 1 year ago

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The first time Tony Ford played Dungeons & Dragons, he was a wiry Black kid who had never seen the inside of a prison. His mother, a police officer in Detroit, had quit the force and moved the family to West Texas. To Ford, it seemed like a different world. Strangers talked funny, and El Paso was half desert. But he could skateboard in all that open space, and he eventually befriended a nerdy White kid with a passion for Dungeons & Dragons. Ford fell in love with the role-playing game right away; it was complex and cerebral, a saga you could lose yourself in. And in the 1980s, everyone seemed to be playing it.

D&D had come out a decade earlier with little fanfare. It was a tabletop role-playing game known for its miniature figurines and 20-sided dice. Players were entranced by the way it combined a choose-your-own-adventure structure with group performance. In D&D, participants create their own characters — often magical creatures like elves and wizards — to go on quests in fantasy worlds. A narrator and referee, known as the Dungeon Master, guides players through each twist and turn of the plot. There’s an element of chance: The roll of the die can determine if a blow is strong enough to take down a monster or whether a stranger will help you. The game has since become one of the most popular in the world, celebrated in nostalgic television shows and dramatized in movies. It is played in homes, at large conventions and even in prisons.

By the time Ford got to high school, he had drifted toward other interests — girls, cars and friends who sold drugs and ran with gangs. Ford started doing those things, too. He didn’t get into serious trouble until Dec. 18, 1991. Sometime before 9 p.m., two Black men knocked on the door of a small home on Dale Douglas Drive in southeast El Paso, asking for “the man of the house.” The woman who answered, Myra Murillo, refused to let them in. A few minutes later, they returned, breaking down the door and demanding money and jewelry. One opened fire, killing Murillo’s 18-year-old son, Armando.

Within hours, police picked up a suspect, who said Ford was his partner. They arrested Ford, who was 18 at the time, the following day. He has maintained that the two men who entered the house were brothers, and that he was outside in the car the whole time. There was no physical evidence clearly connecting him to the crime. He was so confident that a jury would believe him that he rejected a plea deal and took his case to trial in July 1993. He lost. By October, at age 20, he was on death row.

Back then, death row for men was located in a prison near Huntsville, Texas, where hundreds lived in tiny cells. The men were allowed to hang out together, watch television, play basketball and go to work at prison jobs. And because they were locked behind bars rather than solid doors, they could call out to one another and talk. That was how, one day, Ford caught familiar words drifting down from the cells above him, phrases like, “I’ll cast a spell!” “Aren’t there too many of them?” and “I think you have to roll.”

It was the sound of Dungeons & Dragons.

#the marshall project #abolish the death penalty #dnd #dungeons and dragons

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ladyblueberrymuffin · 11 months ago

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That's the thing, it's so weird a lot movies made today are reboots when every original movie is kind of a 'reboot' already? It's just that you're ignoring it, because it doesn't have the name of the thing you like, but that's stupid, because you don't like the thing you like for it's name or external appearance, you like it for the substance.

You mash different things together, and add pieces of yourself along the way.

I would like to use my favorite book as an example. Beautiful Creatures is definitely not as popular as Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, or Hunger Games, and if you even heard of it, chances are you probably know it as that one weird Twilight rip-off Alden Erenreich starred in before he became a popular actor. But that's the thing, it is actually kinda freaking great? And a great example for this exercise.

I think what I love about it, is that you can tell the authors Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl were nerds like us when growing up in the 80s. Kami Garcia has stated that Harrison Ford was her crush when she was younger, and Margaret Stohl is a huge Han and Leia shipper, and you can tell. Years before Ereinreich became Solo, he already kinda was playing a character inspired by Ford, with this snarky small town boy, who seems gruff but is actually really sweet and tender, and is actually really funny and gets beaten up a lot.

And then the main girl? She's this sweet, but feisty girl, also quite snarky when she wants to be, but the authors aren't afraid to make her vulnerable too. They have a sorta antagonistic relationship at first, because she doesn't trust him, and her father figure, named Mr. Ravenwood might I add, hates the boy's guts, because he trusts him even less with his beloved adopted daughter. She has black hair and green eyes. She's Marion Ravenwood! It's Indiana Jones as a fantasy high school drama! Without the problematic age gap. They did the thing all those Disney remakes want to do, but fail because the problematic elements are kinda baked into the narrative.

Let's also not ignore that Kami Garcia has said that she would love to write characters from The Craft, and the main girl is a witch with green eyes, who's kind of a girl next door, who's antisocial, kinda depressed, and heaven help you if you endanger her, her friends or her family, because she can be ruthless. When I finally watched the Craft I was flabbergasted by how much Sarah Bailey reminds me of this character, to the point I actually looked into if the authors have seen the movie, and sure enough, they did. A big deal in the book is made of the fact that when she uses her magic her hair starts billowing in the wind, and she can cause storms and lightning strikes, which is very reminiscent of the epilogue of The Craft, where Sarah shows that she still has magic powers and scares off her bitter ex-friends. The element of former best friend becoming a dangerous rival is also present, with a redemption arc at that, something The Craft fans have often expressed Nancy deserved.

Also, the whole thing feels a lot like the Phoenix Saga. The fact that our main girl might become insanely powerful and turn evil is a big part of her character arc. And the book once again kinda improves on the inspiration by subverting this trope of "Woman with power become evil". The whole point of her arc is learning to accept the parts of her that are 'dark'. It's okay to break the rules sometimes, it's okay to feel angry, it's okay to not be nice to everyone. It's a very relatable arc if you grew up catholic. It's kind of a bold moral for a book written in 2009.

It's just cool seeing all these elements that combine into a bigger whole. It's really inspiring to see that professional writers are also just huge nerds like us, and their books are basically kinda crossover high school AUs of the stuff they grew up watching.

Nothing is technically stopping you from writing your own MCU reboot, or Transformers series. Change some stuff around, make the characters your own, and voila.

#booklr #writing

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tilbageidanmark · 4 months ago

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Movies I watched this week (#184):

A good woman is hard to find is a suspenseful Irish revenge-thriller. A beautiful, widowed mother of two small kids is struggling with the recent murder of her husband. Her transformation from a down-trotted, submissive woman into a fierce protector of her children is dark and emotionally-rewarding. 7/10.

🍿

4 more with 💯 score on Rotten Tomatoes:

🍿 "Oh, fuck!..." said the groom when he unveiled the scarf from his new wife's head, to discover that it's another woman.

Laapataa Ladies is a gentle Hindi drama about 2 newly-wed brides who get mixed up on a busy Indian train, who end up with the wrong grooms. It's nice to watch a warm-hearted story that takes place in very primitive villages, with simple people, and a Happy End. The strong feminist message is delivered subtly and without fanfare. [*Female Director*]

🍿 The Lavender Hill Mob is a classic Ealing Studio comedy about a bank heist. Alec Guinness is a meek bank clerk who decides to rob his own bank. The best part: At 3:33 Audrey Hepburn makes a 10 second cameo as 'Chiquita'!

Nearly 40 years later, the same director would make 'A fish called Wanda'.

🍿 Concrete Utopia is a new Korean survival thriller about xenophobia which got great reviews, but I didn't like it at all. A grim dystopian parable about life after a massive earthquake which destroyed all of Seoul, except of one apartment building that remained standing. Societal morals break down when life and death are at stake, and they cause everybody to become selfish and cliquish.

🍿 Similarly, the only reason I picked up the Korean thriller The Call is because of its score on 'Rotten Tomatoes'. But the Science Fiction element of time travel through a telephone which was connected to the future was so lame, I got the urge to click it off within 5 minutes. In the end I stayed for 30 minutes, but regretted it.

🍿

3 more by Luis Buñuel + 3 by Jean-Claude Carrière:

🍿 "Please, let your wife stay here for 2 extra minutes. I have to show her the Sursiks..." [But there were no 'Sursiks'...]

I've always loved Buñuel's last 3 films, maybe because they were so easy to watch. The fire and brimstone of his youth were distilled into accessible, vivid tableaux. The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, or "Six friends and the impossible dinner" is just delightful: You nearly feel sorry for these poor 1-procenters, who can't find a decent place to dine in. Their illogical dreams dredge out their childhood traumas, and there's no explanations to anything that happens.

It was the New 4K trailer which brought me back. Re-watch ♻️. Always 10/10.

Surprise Wikipedia gift to myself: After the international success of the movie, Buñuel and his producer traveled to the US in late 1972 to promote the film. While in Los Angeles, Buñuel, Carrière and Silberman were invited to a lunch party at Buñuel's old friend George Cukor, and the other guests included Alfred Hitchcock, Billy Wilder, George Stevens, Rouben Mamoulian, John Ford, William Wyler, Robert Mulligan and Robert Wise. (Resulting in a famous photograph of the directors together, all but an ailing Ford).

🍿 "For health, nothing beats donkey milk!"...

First watch: Los Olvidados ('The young and the damned'), his harsh and depressing Neo-realist Mexican drama from 1950. Hooligans and street urchins live a marginal life damned by poverty and hopelessness. A group of unfortunate juvenile delinquents try, and fail, to survive. (I didn't know that Buñuel studied hypnotism in his youth, but it makes sense).

🍿 My second expressionist silent film by Jean Epstein, my first adaptation of an Edgar Allen Poe, The Fall of the House of Usher (1928). It was written by Buñuel, his second movie after 'Un Chein Andalou', but he left the production after arguing with Epstein. Roger Ebert adored this film, but for me it was too experimental.

🍿 So this is a good time to remember the incredible talents of prolific screenwriter Jean-Claude Carrière. He's credited on IMDb with 158 terrific films, including masterpieces like 'Taking off', 'The tin drum', 'The swimming pool', and even Jonathan Glazer's 'Birth'.

He started his co-operation with Buñuel on 'Diary of a chambermaid', and for 19 years had co-written all of his later movies (with the exception of 'Tristana').

But Carrière was also the co-director of 3 short films, together with Pierre Étaix, 'the French Buster Keaton'. Happy Anniversary is a masterful comedic gem, about a husband hurrying around Paris, buying gifts and flowers for his wife, and trying to make it on time for the special dinner she prepared. It won the 1963 Oscar for 'Best Short Subject'. It's very reminiscent of Jacques Tati, and especially of 'Trafic'. And no wonder: Tati employed young Carrière to write novels based on his films! 9/10.

🍿 In Rapture (1961) Pierre Étaix receives a break-up letter from his girlfriend and tries to write back a response. Pure silence Keaton.

🍿 In the mysterious The nail clippers, Michael Lonsdale and his wife arrive at a luxurious hotel, and while settling in their room,he starts losing things, first his nail clippers, and then everything else.

🍿

Amazing Belgian stop-motion animator Emma De Swaef X 2:

🍿 This Magnificent Cake! is an incredibly bizarre and unique piece of art. First of all, it's told with stop-motion animation using weird creatures made of felt. But the nightmares these disturbing characters share are absurd and very dark. Unexpectedly, it's a scathing indictment of colonialism, especially the Belgian adventures in Africa of the 19th century. Go in cold - You won't regret it. 9/10.

🍿 Her earlier story from 2013, Oh, Willy! was even stranger. The same type wooly characters, but in a nudist colony, dying and re-birthing, flying through space, and ending up breast-fed from a giant, hairy monster. Odd! [*Female Director*]

🍿

2 by Danielle Krudy and Bridget Savage Cole:

🍿 Blow the Man Down is a different type of a dark thriller. Two young sisters in a small fishing town in Maine chop a guy up and struggle to cover it up. It has feminine sensitivities, sea shanties, Margo Martindale as an ambiguous Madame of the local whorehouse, and June Squibb as one of the old ladies who work behind the scenes to keep the town sane. 7/10.

🍿 In their earlier OowieWanna, a 7 year old girl with a birthmark on her arm, is doing the laundry with her uncle. With Karen Black. [*Female Directors*]

🍿

4 more Israeli films:

🍿 White Eye - WOW! I never heard of, and didn't expect anything from this film, and I was shocked at how real and painful it quickly became! A simple heart-wrenching drama [shot in one continuing take] about a guy who finds a white bike that was stolen from him a month earlier. No spoilers: It must be experienced as is. Very Vittorio De Sica inspired. Best film of the week - 10/10!

This film was nominated for the Live short Oscar in 2021, but didn't win. It should have. (By now I've seen 4 of these 5 nominees, and they were all impressive: The Palestinian tragedy 'The present', also about a father and his daughter, 'The letter room' with Oscar Isaac, and the racial time-loop 'Two distant strangers'.)

🍿 Hole in the moon is a seminal Israeli film from 1965. It was the first avant-garde movie made in Hebrew and it ushered "The New Sensitivity", a cinematic movement of personal, artistic visions. Up to then, the Israeli film industry produced only compliant Zionist, nation-building products. But this script-less meandering film itself, a pastiche copy of French New Wave tricks and the worst from J-L Godard, was extremely pretentious, full of disjointed visuals, unconnected shots and indulgent nonsense. 2/10.

The director, Uri Zohar, was acclaimed like the Israeli Andy Warhol, and at the center of the Bohemian lifestyle in Tel-Aviv during the first decades of the state. Sadly, in the 70's he "found religion", turned his back on all liberal concepts, became a real-life ultra-orthodox Rabbi, fathered 7 children, and was entrenched in far-right Judaism up to his last days.

🍿 A Day in Degania (1937) is the first Israeli color film, a delightful documentary about life in Degania. Degania was the first Kibbutz, on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. It's a cheerful and innocent piece of early Zionist propaganda, when the term 'Colonists' to describe the farmers and settlers was not used in derogatory manner. It features a group of happy kindergarten kids, all running naked, and jumping into the water for a swim.

🍿 This is Sodom is a Biblical satire a-la-'Life of Brian' about Abraham's deal with a fast-talking God to save Lot and his wife. It was a huge commercial hit in 2010, being a typical low-brow 'Bourekas' movie, but mostly it was a terribly stupid farce. 1/10.

🍿

The Stranger Left No Card is a strange British little horror tale about an eccentric person who arrives in a small town. He is dressed in spats, top hat and old-fashioned clothing, and the townspeople consider him half-wit. My first film by Wendy Toye. This copy was especially crisp. 7/10. [*Female Director*]

🍿

Frankenweenie (1984) was the 11th and last of Tim Burton shorts before he moved on to feature films with 'Pee-wee's Big Adventure' and 'Beetlejuice' and 'Edward Scissorhands'. It was the original live-action, black & white homage to the old Frankenstein saga, which he later re-made into a stop-motion animation. Strong sense of 'olde-tyme' Pasadena streets of the late 50's, with palm-trees and lovely bungalows, and idealized family trops. 100% small time Disney.

RIP, Shelley Duvall!

(Also, this...)

🍿

"The pellet with the poison is in the vessel with the pestle, the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true, right?"

Finding that clip, I realized that I've never seen any Danny Kaye movies. But Watching The Court Jester is perhaps enough Kaye. This 'Vessel with the pestle' is the best scene in a what is otherwise a lame spoof of the 1950's Faux Medieval Fascination. (They had a popular chain of fake restaurants, 'Medieval Times', where actor-knights would joust and sword-fight before your dinner. Also, Disney popularized the Arthur/Robin Hood concept.)

But the clip is also an obvious copy of Moses Supposes, and the milquetoast Kaye is a parody of Donald O'Connor - for kids. (It even works in German)...

🍿

The Brilliant Biograph, Earliest Moving Images of Europe 1897-1902, is a fascinating compilation of hundreds of newly-restored, small documentary clips from 125 years ago. (Screenshot Above). Before the first automobiles, when you had to use horses and trams, boats and bicycles if you had to move around. 8/10.

🍿

A bunch of shorts:

🍿 A portrait of Ga, my first by experimental Scottish poet Margaret Tait. A simple portrait of her mother. Just lovely. Charlotte Wells said that her 'Aftersun' was inspired by Tait's poetry. [*Female Director*]

🍿 And So We Put Goldfish in the Pool are four middle school Japanese girls who live in a dead-end small town and are afraid they will never be able to leave and live life. Shot in a vibrant, music video style, it captures their young angst as if they shot it themselves. 8/10.

🍿 Yes-People, an Icelandic film that was nominated for the 2021 Best Animated Short. The dialogue consisted of only one word...

🍿 In The Hat an exotic dancer remembers in graphic details how she was sexually-abused as a little girl by a man with a hat. Highly disturbing, it's animated in dark and powerful style. 8/10. [*Female Director*]

🍿 Tom Waits for no one is a creative rotoscoping of his burlesque riff 'The one that got away'. It won an Oscar for Scientific and Technical Achievement in 1979. (Via)

🍿 The Burden, a Swedish stop-animated musical, a sad existentialist dirge about animals night-working at a supermarket, boiler room and other dreary places. [*Female Director*]

🍿 Plucking Tangerines, (2021) a completely random pick about a young British woman remembering the time her girlfriend left her. I just didn't care for it. [*Female Director*]

🍿

Another one I couldn't finish: Michael Showalter's Hello, my name is Doris. I tried it only because this was the comedy he made just before the terrific 'The big Sick'. But old lady Sally Field daydreaming about having sex with a young, hot guy was lame and unfunny.

🍿

Bad Faith: Christian Nationalism's Unholy War on Democracy is the scariest horror film I've seen this year. A documentary about the hidden racism at the heart of "Christian Nationalism". (But there's no mention of Nancy Maclean's work). 7/10.

The filmmakers are going to find themselves in concentration camps within a couple of years. :(

🍿

Throw-back to the Adora Art project:

Adora with Buñuel.

🍿

(My complete movie list is here).

#movies #bfi london film festival #BFI #documentary

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

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A Place in the Sun 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Summary: Trouble in the big city follows you back to your sleepy village home.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You have your prize; a limited edition and a surprise! With all pre-orders, the bookstore gave gift card. Now you have to come back. You giddily carry off your book into the vast mall and trace your way back to the food court. You only have to walk in circles a few times before you figure it out.

You join the line at the pretzel stand, perusing the many different flavours and toppings you can add to the classic twisted treat. You settle on the cinnamon bun pretzel before it’s your turn to order. You wait patiently near a group of teen boys using words you don’t understand.

As you rock listlessly, you peer around the food court. It’s getting loud in there. The tables are filling up as the heat of cooking food and bodies warms the space. You don’t think you’ll stick around. You’ve never been anywhere so full of people, it’s kind of scary.

As you turn back to the pretzel stand, you wince as you sense a speck at the edge of your vision. Dark blue and gone before you can look. You squint at a woman with several children clustered around her as you try to track the strange flicker. This place is chaotic, that’s all.

Your order is called and you step up to take the container. The smell of cinnamon makes your stomach growl. You hurry between the tables, sidestepping children and dodging around parked strollers. You finally get to the other side and recognise the same entrance you came in through.

The monstrous bronco isn’t hard to find in the parking lot. You secure your things in the passenger seat and climb up on the driver’s side. You feel almost like a child behind the large steering wheel, sat up so high on the axle that you look down on all other cars. In Hammer Ford, you walk more than you drive, more often, your dad is behind the wheel of the truck he’s had longer than he’s had you.

You roll down the window to let the air in and wipe the sweat form your hairline. You didn’t realise how sweltering you were. You balance the container in your lap and pop it open. You tear off a piece of the pretzel and nibble on it. You don’t want to rush back home, you don’t know the next time you’ll have this chance, even with the gift card as an excuse.

As you chew, your eyes flick up and more teen girls approach the mall’s facade. Or maybe they’re older. You can’t tell. Not with their highlighted hair and fake lashes. There weren’t too many people in Hammer Ford that went all out like that. One girl you know but mostly for selfies.

It’s both fascinating and intimidating to notice the difference between the city and the village. The more you do, the more you feel completely out of your depth. You watch after the group of girls, wishing you had some pals to bring you, and your eyes catch on a figure. You recognise the smooth stride before the blue suit or his vibrant eyes. It’s the same man as before; the one who caught your keys and growling in the bookstore.

As you bite into a particularly gooey morsel, his gaze flits over to you. You blanch, eyes rounding, and you quickly look down in embarrassment. You grab a napkin and hide your mouth. Look at you, the bumpkin in the ancient farm truck chewing on fried dough. It's kind of funny. You smile and swallow.

When you look back up, he’s gone. Oh well. He’s just a stranger.

You take your time and enjoy each bite. When you finish, you get out to toss the napkins and box in the nearby bin. You don’t want the truck to smell of cinnamon when you get back. As you get back behind the wheel, you pause. You wish you could bring something home for your parents. You suddenly feel very selfish.

You try not to dwell on it. You turn the engine into a roar and it settles to a rumble. You check your mirror and crane to see beside you. You shift and back out, angling slowly between the rows of car. The truck might be colossal but it handles well enough.

You roll through the lot slowly, waving other drivers ahead of you, not so eager to be back on the country roads. A honk blasts from the car behind you. Unlike the baritone blare of the bronco, it’s higher, almost tooting. You try to see the car but only see a sleek silver blue roof in your rear view.

You take your chance to exit and join the traffic towards the highway; from there, you’ll take the exit to the back roads. It’s busy. Lunchtime has cars clogging the lane way. It doesn’t break up until you head off onto the highway and you’re the only one signaling toward Hammer Ford. The sign itself is half obscured with overgrown vines.

You roll your window further down and let the country air blow over you. The smell of the field and the crunch of gravel gives you a sense of nostalgia. Not like the smoky, rubbery atmosphere of the city. It was an exciting visit but after all that, home is a welcome reprieve.

You yawn over the wheel and glance over at the bag with your book in it. You might be too tired to start it today. Ah well. You want to savour it just like the pretzel.

As you relax into the seat and your mind falls into autopilot at passing the familiar gnarled tree, a sudden rev makes you squeak. It’s definitely not the bronco. If you lean to heavily on the gas, it starts to huff and puff and shake so much you think it might explode.

A streak of silver blue appears at your right, just visible along the lower edge of the window. Another car you hadn’t noticed until then. You’re so used to the backwoods being empty, you hadn’t bothered to check your mirror.

The car keeps pace with you and you try to lean over and see without veering. Their windows are tinted. Again, they rev and their tires speed ahead, zooming off as you keep your lazy pace. Even so, you barely have a chance to react as they turn suddenly and block the road ahead of you, setting their car perpendicular to your path.

You slam both feet on the brakes and brace the wheel, barely keeping your chest from hitting the rigid leather. You grip it tight and push yourself back against the seat with a huff. You blink at the car idling in front of you, confused and nervous. That’s strange.

Cars like that don’t come around here often. The Odinsons have a few vintage cars that outshine the locals, and that new resident with the bristly mustache zips around in his shiny red corvette, but you don’t recognise this car.

You could try to drive through the fields but you’d do more damage to the truck and the crops without getting very far. You just sit there and watch and wait. You have a bad feeling in your stomach. You check the lock on your door and crank up the window.

You remember that shade of paint. That honk back in the mall lot. Your father did say that city folk can hold a grudge, but for what? For letting another driver ahead of you?

You gulp and wring the slender steering wheel. There’s a tire rod in the back, on the floor. You can reach it if you need it but could you really use it? You weigh the question, the car ominously still as you wait for something, anything to happen.

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #series #au #backwoods #drabble #the 355

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angryschnauzer · 3 years ago

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Bubbles

Summary: After a long hot day at work and a nightmare journey home, you find your husband has a very welcome and refreshing surprise for you in the form of a full size jacuzzi in your back garden.

Pairing: Captain Syverston x Female Reader Wife (no race or size mentioned)

Fandoms: Sand Castle (Movie), Henry Cavill.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Established Relationship, Semi Public Sex, Fingering, Oral (Female Receiving), Unprotected Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Alcohol consumption.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications for future stories. All past works can be found on there or on my AO3.

Bubbles

It had been a long day. Work had been hot and sweaty, customers were grouchy and some even tried to pull the 'speak to the manager' bullshit, even though you were the manager. Traffic had been a nightmare, your car deciding that the middle of a heatwave would be the perfect time for the air conditioning to stop working, simultaneously with a truck of maple syrup hitting the central concrete barrier and spilling its sticky load.

Snerk. You snorted a laugh through the sweat. Sticky load… your husband would have made a whole bunch of dirty comments and jokes about being covered in sticky loads. You couldn't wait to get home to see him, it was the fact that he had now retired from the Army and would be happily waiting for you at home every night that made each day worthwhile.

When Sy had finally retired you'd wept tears of joy, every day was a blessing. You'd discussed what you were both going to do with jobs, your contract was up in 3 months time, Sy was drawing a military pension and had saved a considerable nest egg. He'd also taken to industrial upcycling; making lamps and coffee tables out of engines and car parts, which had been massively popular. You had to admit when you saw him in his workshop with his acetylene torch and welding mask on, cutting enormous chunks of metal in half and creating brutal beauty from the elements you were immediately turned on by the raw virility of the sight.

When you eventually pulled onto the driveway, a quick glance towards his workshop told you he'd finished for the day, and as you let yourself into your house you called out to him;

"Sy?"

"Out here" came his slightly muffled reply, and you realised he was probably sitting on the patio out back, nursing a beer.

"I'm gonna run upstairs and take a shower, the aircon in my car has stopped working"

"Darlin, come out here first… i got something that'll refresh you"

Rolling your eyes you started to unbutton your blouse;

"Really Sy, i'm all sweaty and stinky…"

"Woman…" he growled; "I said get out here…"

If any other man had called you 'woman' you'd knocked them out, but you knew Sy and for him it was a term of endearment. Quietly walking through the kitchen you reached the back door and patio;

"Sy…" you started to speak, but was cut short when you saw what he'd been referring to.

Sat on the corner of your patio, shielded from view by the trellis covered in Clematis blooms was an inflatable hot tub, bubbling away with your mountain of a man sat in it, arms spread out on each side as he held a beer and grinned at you;

"Told ya' i had something that'd cool you down"

Pressing your hand to the side of it you tested the water, smiling when you found it the perfect temperature;

"You bought a hot tub?"

"Rented. Wanted to see if we liked it before we made the investment. Why don't you get in and give it a go?"

"Sure, i'll just go get changed into my bathing costume"

Sy's glinted with mischief;

"Why? I ain't wearing one…"

You weren't sure;

"Its rented? Is it clean?"

"Spent all afternoon flushing the system and giving it a full wipe down, even though the rental company says they do it after each use… i know how you are with hygiene" he moved in the massive tub, moving to the side where you stood;

"Now are ya gonna get naked or am i gonna have to rip those clothes off of ya?"

A minute later you were climbing in, work clothes hastily discarded in a pile on the patio, Sy holding your hand as he guided you into the bubbly water and you immediately let out a long low moan as the jets of water soothed and massaged your weary body;

"Oh Sy… this feels amazing…"

"C'mere…"

His massive hands cradled your torso, pulling you through the water until you were able to straddle his lap, his mouth meeting yours for a fierce kiss. As your tongues danced together he smoothed his hands over your back, massaging the day's stresses away to the point where let your head tilt back. Resting in his strong arms you let your back touch the water, smiling as the warm summer breeze danced over your breasts, before that skilled mouth was on your breasts, sucking on one nipple then the other, before he shifted and you were floating on the water, his mouth on your pussy.

You weren’t the tiniest of girls, but you had utter trust in Sy that he could hold you up whilst eating you out. The man would easily heave around 10 foot iron beam railroad tracks to make into coffee tables, he’d pushed his truck home when the engine had died and that is no mean feat when it comes to a Ford F350. So with that knowledge safe in your mind you could thoroughly relax and let his tongue work magic on your clit as his beard tickled your folds. You came with a cry and he swallowed down your essence, before lowering you into the water and onto his lap.

As he lowered you you felt his hardness seek you out, sliding through your folds before you reached down and positioned him at your entrance, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you let yourself be slowly impaled on his shaft. With the worries and stresses of the day easing away with each blissful bubble that popped on your skin you sought out his lips for another kiss as you started to ride him, the friction palatable as the noise of the motor covered the sighs and moans the two of you were making. Sy’s hands firmly gripped your ass, pulling you up and down on his gnarled shaft;

“Fuck… You look so fucking good riding me Darlin’. Definitely gonna get a permanent one of these installed… might get you a coupla’ white bikini’s as i’d love to see these titties through the soaked fabric, would be such a treat…” he grinned at you; “A titty treat…”

Grinning at him you squeezed your pelvic muscles, finally shutting him up so you could concentrate as you chased your orgasm;

“Sure Sy, i’ll get a white bikini… you want me to do the gardening in it too? Watching me on my hands and knees as i plant the petunia’s?”

“Woman, i’ll fucking take you from behind right on the lawn if you do that” he growled, thrusting his hips up sharply and finding your g-spot. One of his hands crept around your hip and between your bodies, seeking out your clit as he ran his calloused thumb over the sensitive nub. From the way he was bouncing you on his lap you could tell he was getting close, his teeth gritted as he tried to hold off from cumming, but with no luck. His hands gripped your hips to stop you from moving in the hope it’d delay his orgasm. You watched as his eyes rolled back in his head and his head fell back against the side of the spa, thrusting his hips up as he swore out a litany of curses as his body reached its peak before he’d have wanted to;

“Fuck fuck fuck… ah god… i’m sorry… fuck…”

Cradling the back of his head in your fingers you stroked at the short hair as you dipped your head down and pressed open mouthed kisses to his neck and shoulders. With his eyes still shut he pulled a hand out of the water and raked it down his face before looking up at you, his blue eyes sparkling;

“Ah fuck i’m sorry Darlin’... lemme see about getting you sorted…don’t get off just yet…”

He slid his hand back between your bodies, his thumb back on your clit. His other hand moved to your breasts, using his mouth on one nipple as he pinched the other between his thumb and forefinger. Writhing on his lap you could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, Sy knowing exactly how to play your body like a guitar as you sang out your siren song that was a blessing to his ears.

As your orgasm washed over you Sy held you in his arms, letting you ride out your pleasure as he relished the feel of your body surrounding him. Slumped in his arms you nuzzled at his neck, happily riding the waves of pleasure that echoed around your body.

“You ok there Darlin’?” Sy purred, smoothing his massive palm over your back like a giant bear paw.

“Hmmn” you hummed, stopping mid response when you felt him shift and realised he was hard again; “Sy?”

He looked at you, a smirk on his face as he cocked an eyebrow;

“Darlin… you know when i blow my load real fast i’m ready for another round… your sweet little pussy massaged me back to full health” he pressed a kiss to your nose; “Now turn around and bend over, hand on the side… i’m gonna rail that juicy pussy from behind, see how many times i can make you cum before i shoot load number two”

Manhandling you in the water you let out a shriek as he thrust into you from behind, your walls still tight from your previous orgasm and he did exactly as promised, splitting you open from behind as his powerful thighs railed you harder than the transcontinental express. With his heavy ballsack slapping against your clit you were soon cumming again, Sy fucking you straight through it before he brought you to another orgasm soon after as he filled you with another sticky load.

As you both tried to recover from the energetic synchronised aquatics he pulled you flush with his chest as he sank down into the water, letting you lay back against his chest as your bodies were still joined. His hands skimmed over your torso beneath your breasts, cupping them tenderly;

“We’re getting one of these, right Darlin’?”

“Hmmm, absolutely”

You sat there for a good half hour, cradled in Sy’s arms as you told each other about your day, before your skin wrinkled and it was time to get out.

Later that evening Sy had driven the pair of you to the main hardware store in town that he’d rented the Spa from, and you’d ordered the parts and equipment for your very own one. As Sy had started getting deep into conversation with the sales guy who turned out had also recently retired from the Army you tugged on Sy’s sleeve;

“Honey, i’m gonna pop to Walmart next door”

“Sure thing Darlin, i’ll catch up with you in fifteen minutes”

Just as promised Sy found you fifteen minutes later as you browsed through the clothing section, and you spotted that he was swinging a small clothes hangar from his finger;

“What you got there?” you asked

Sy held it up and your eyes practically bulged out of your head; He had found the tiniest white bikini, that although was your size, was little more than three small triangles of fabric connected with the thinnest of strings;

“Exactly what we discussed… now i see ya got a bottle of tequila and some snacks, how about we head home and we can test this out?”

Grinned you nodded;

“Just one thing…”

“Yeah Darlin?”

“We need to grab a few more of those… there’s no way that is gonna survive one wear with you around”

Nodding in agreement Sy grinned, taking the basket from your hand as he wrapped his free arm around your shoulders;

“See, that’s why i married ya’, thinking ahead…”

He pressed a kiss to your hair as he led you back to the display of swimwear, grinning as you pulled out numerous other cheap pieces of swimwear, knowing full well Sy would destroy them as thoroughly as he destroys your pussy.

#syverson x you #syverson smut #captain syverson #captain sy x reader #henry cavill

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from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 2 days ago

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This is something I’ve always struggled with in my thinking because the books give us answers that feint in both directions. I wish I had a better answer!

Ultimately, I don’t think it was common for women to regularly ride in Rohan’s army. If it was, we would surely have been told about other women fighting at Helm’s Deep or the Fords or the Pelennor Fields, and folks like Imrahil would not have been surprised to discover Éowyn among the Rohirrim because he would have expected to find women fighting in their army.

But there’s plenty of evidence Éowyn isn’t the first and only. In one of the drafts in HoME, Éowyn says the women need to ride now “as they did in a like evil time” during the reign of Brego. Appendix A says there were many “fair and valiant” women remembered in the Rohirrim’s songs of their Northmen ancestors, and Faramir also tells Frodo and Sam that historically the Rohirrim have been “tall men and fair women, valiant both alike.” Those references to valiance imply fighting to me in those historical eras. And, of course, Elfhelm and the dozens of dudes in his éored sure didn’t seem bothered by Éowyn’s presence even though they were aware of it. Nor did any other Rohirrim react to discovering her on the battlefield in Gondor by saying “this is an abomination, no woman should have ever been here!” or to Imrahil questioning whether Rohan sent women in its army by saying “we would never!”

So it’s always been my supposition that shield maiden is an old concept dating from the Northmen. They weren’t part of the standing, professional army, but they were trained to ride and fight. They came to musters when called and fought with the army in times of greatest crisis, and they defended the cities, estates and countryside during normal times if/when the army was away. I think that’s a fair interpretation of the books, and one that also seems reasonably consistent with actual history in some parts of the real world, per your article and things I learned in an ancient warfare class in college. There have always been women in war, from the common foot soldier to the warrior queen, though a lot of effort was taken to ensure posterity didn’t remember this fact or to try to paint those women as strange and particular anomalies (either angelic heroes sent by god or voracious heathens who overstepped their bounds, depending on which woman you’re talking about).

It doesn’t seem like Rohan had sent any shield maidens to battle during the living memory of our characters in the late 3rd Age, but that would make sense because the country hadn’t been engaged in an all-out war since the rule of Théoden’s great-great grandfather. So the *idea* of a woman in the army isn’t foreign or objectionable to the Rohirrim, but their *experience* of it is very limited because conditions didn’t necessitate it during the lifetimes of those in Rohan at the time of the story.

But if they have shield maidens and have traditionally included them with the army during times of great crisis, why then aren’t they in the army in large numbers and riding openly as women during the War of the Ring? I’m open to any theory, but — for me — I think the answer has to be Théoden.

When he sets the muster after Helm’s Deep, he specifically summons “all men, young and old to come in haste,” with no mention of women at all. And then he chooses not to bring all the available men to Gondor but rather to leave some behind to protect the strongholds of Rohan instead of entrusting even that entirely to the women. If Théoden had given different orders, we might have seen things play out very differently. But, when given the chance, he’s very specifically not on board with the concept in the way that guys like Elfhelm seem to be. And the best reason for that, I think, is the one you already alluded to.

Théoden was born in Gondor and raised by parents who specifically sought to import elements of Gondorian culture and practice into Rohan. There is ZERO evidence of women in battle for the Gondorians, and so perhaps Théoden was raised to believe this was a part of Rohirrim culture that should be left in the past. Native Rohirrim like Elfhelm saw no problem with it, but Gondor-influenced Théoden didn’t like it. Maybe he viewed it as something that was done in more primitive times, but thought that a modern and sophisticated Rohan shouldn’t have such inelegant practices as sending its women to war. (Incidentally, this thought process certainly happened in America, where a lot of women settlers were nothing like the meek little farm wives we are trained to picture. But as the country matured and settlements became towns and government and order were established and wealth and prosperity followed, many women who were used to toting guns and defending herds or working in manual labor were shunted instead into drawing rooms and parlors where they had less power and autonomy.)

That’s not Théoden’s best look, and it is very much to the credit of the non-royal Rohirrim that they don’t seem to share his prejudices. So I, personally, don’t believe Éowyn was the only woman who fought at the Pelennor Fields. But because Théoden excluded them from the muster, any others who were there would have also been in disguise, which is what leads the men escorting Éowyn’s body into Minas Tirith to tell Imrahil there are no other women among them — there aren’t…openly.

I don’t know if that’s a wholly satisfying answer, and it’s not breaking much new ground beyond what you already cited. But it’s what I’ve got! Thanks for thinking of me with your research. I do love a good scholarly article from time to time, and this is certainly an area of interest!

Defending the castle like a man...

I've just read this article : Defending the castle like a man: on belligerent medieval ladies.

One of my friend is practicing HEMA (historical european martial art) as well as forging. We speak often about it and I have many question, mostly because of my main character in my medieval romance. As in forging, strength is not all in fighting. Know how to do it and practicing is first and foremost (she is smaller and thinner than me. she can wield swords that I cannot lift).

She reads lots of things about medieval warfare and we have discussion about it, and more recently because of my main character in my medieval romance. She had send me this article. And while reading it, I thought about some of my mutuals and the quite recent discussion about Eowyn and Théoden. So this is for you : @torchwood-99 , @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras , @konartiste. @errruvande I thought about you as there is a good reference about Alfred's daughter.

Reading this, I thought about Théoden. Rohan seems to have a certain history of female fighters. Shieldmaiden is not a name coming out of nowhere. So... what led Rohan to, seemingly, forget about this role? When did it happen?

In this article, there are a lot of example of women who did fight in war and defend their territory. It seems there are more and more proof of that. Even more, it seems women were actually expected to know at least how to defend their castle and lands. "Do as their husband do". So they had to know how to fight or at least strategies and siege... And some knew how to use bows, crossbows and even swords. Still, they had been, most of the time, erased or played down.

It is not said if this erasing was all along or more recent, as it is noted that those women of war were common up until the 14th centuries. In any case, they existed, but in later ages, it was inconvenient for men to have their female kin show "men's virtue".

Did something equivalent happened in Rohan? Why would something like this would happen? I would be the first to say "Oh it's all Saruman/Grima's fault". But no. Theoden do not think of sending Eowyn to war. He does not even have the reflex to think about her as a leader for his people. if it had been Grima and/or Saruman, he would have think about it.

Could it be his gondorian upbringing? After all he grew up in Gondor, had a gondorian mother? Thengel did not seem to held his countries culture in high regard. So, could it be this? Or even before that?

In my glèomenn fanfic, Tirwald said it was legends and old story. Could it be even older? Something more recent, linked to another culture?

So... What do you think?

#women in war #shield maidens #rohirrim #sorry théoden this just hasn’t been a good day for you #on my blog #lotr

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morhath · 2 years ago

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book recs 8, 31, 37, 62, 69, 122 👀

8. a book you finished in one sitting

It's a novella, so obvi it's a little easier, but What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher. It came out recently, and it's a retelling of The Fall of the House of Usher. I totally fucked up my sleep schedule for this one, it's sooo good. Very spooky, cool gender stuff and worldbuilding. Seriously, I would read so much more stuff written in the same world as this book. Also: cool mushrooms and a cool lady mycologist!

31. a book that mentions a name in the title

Okay so originally I was gonna say this for #8 because this was also a one-sitting book, but then I realized I could sneak it in here instead--Kaikeyi by Vaishnavi Patel. This is a mythological retelling, of a mythology that I'm pretty much completely unfamiliar with! Very cool magic system, love the depiction of the gods as people who don't really have the same goals as humans, love the twisty politics. Awesome main character.

37. your favourite heist book

Okay so I want to say The Thief by Megan Whalen Turner--or really, any of the QT books, I think you could argue for all of them to count. However, I talk about those constantly, so I'm also going to say Provenance by Ann Leckie to change it up. You've all heard me talk about QT a billion times, but Provenance is amazing! I find the main character super endearing--very anxious, very in over her head. Ann Leckie always knocks it out of the park with worldbuilding, esp. social elements. The aliens are really cool in this one. This is a standalone in the same world as the Imperial Radch books, but you can totally read it without reading those--and in fact it would be really interesting to read in that order!

62. a book with a forgettable plot but amazing characters

Uh, this is all books for me, because I am forgetful and prone to skimming. (I would love to be able to switch it off when needed but literally can't.) I'm just looking at my high-but-not-five-stars reviews on The StoryGraph. Ooh, how about Aspects by John M. Ford? It's unfinished, so it's esp. hard to remember the plot, because there's no resolution. (The author died. In the version I read, there's a foreword from Neil Gaiman that made me WEEP.) However, I found the characters SUPER interesting, especially the romance subplot, which is something that can be hit or miss for me.

69. your favourite mythological retelling

Nice. The Witch's Heart by Genevieve Gornichec is a Norse mythology retelling about an often-overlooked female character. Okay I gotta do a few for this--I went and looked up mythology retelling lists to jog my memory and there were too many good ones. Sword Stone Table by Swapna Krishna and Jenn Northington is an anthology of Arthurian retellings. The one with Merlin time traveling to the 1980s and the one with the little Native American boy both WRECKED ME. SOBBING. Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia started slow but turned out to be great, and I found the setting so interesting! WAIT HOW CAN I FORGET A CHILDHOOD FAVE Goddess of Yesterday by Caroline B. Cooney has shaped so much of my taste in books/my own writing. It's set just before and then in the early days of the Trojan war and follows a young woman who goes through HORRIBLE things and then accidentally scams her way into Troy. Extremely cool god stuff, love how Medusa is handled. Okay okay one more: The Mere Wife by Maria Dahvana Headley is a modern retelling of Beowulf, where Grendel's mother is a woman of color who's recently left the military, and the real villain was white suburbia all along.

122. your favourite winter read

I don't really do seasonal reads, but I definitely like to hole up in the winter with various series I find comforting. Examples would be Connie Willis's Oxford Time Travel books or the Machineries of Empire series by Yoon Ha Lee. (Yes I'm probably a little sick in the head for the latter to be a comfort read. It's whatever.)

#queen's thief #imperial radch #greek mythology #arthurian mythology #machineries of empire #reading #books #life #friends #clockworkcrow

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

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Broken Down (Pt.1)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: When your car breaks down on the side of the highway, you’re picked up by a kind couple who apparently have a thing for picking up hitchhikers, judging by the boy in the back seat. What started as a ride turns into a horror story.

Warnings: NONCON ELEMENTS (it’s Carl and Sandy and if you are reading this, you’re damn well aware of what they do - no full on rape though! Just noncon touching), murder/ serial killers, being held at gun point, description of blood and violence, typical Carl and Sandy stuff

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: There are parts of this that are from the movie directly and I do not claim to own those parts. All other original parts are mine though!

Part 2 out now!

____________________________________

It was no secret that Sandy was unhappy with her life with Carl anymore. She wasn't quiet about it- not even to him. Any logical person would think that she'd be scared to tell her serial killer partner that she was tired of killing people but she wasn't sure if she cared about the outcome anymore. She already felt dead inside.

"Carl, I'm done."

"C'mon, Sandy. It's not that bad." Carl tried to convince his partner, looking over at her from behind the wheel.

Sandy scoffed sadly, "I don't like when they cry."

"But they take the best pictures," Carl responded insensitively. They drove on in silence for a while down the highway, ever consciously looking for their next victim. "You know what? How about we try something new, huh? We can try to make this next one a little more interesting."

Sandy rolled her eyes and stared out at the landscape as it blurred past on their trek along the highway. That wasn’t what she meant and Carl knew it. She didn’t want to make things more interesting. She wanted out. She knew it was no use arguing, though. Carl always got his way.

You stood at the edge of the road, thumb extended as the occasional car passed by, to no avail. Your car sat dead in the turn out behind you. Your duffel bag was laid down on the ground by your feet, your dark blue floral skirt blowing against the material when the breeze blew. Of all the roads to break down on, it just had to be the one in the middle of nowhere Ohio - West Virginia border where almost no cars drove past. It was beginning to get dark and your nerves were starting to fray at the thought of being stuck in the woods alone at night.

Finally, a car drove up to you and you waved your hands to get their attention, put on your nicest smile, and stuck your thumb out. The vehicle slowed to a halt beside you and you saw three people in there, a woman driving, a man rolling his window down to talk to you, and a young man in the backseat. "What's a sweet girl like you doing out here stuck on the side of the road?" The man questioned with a smile.

"My car broke down and I just need to get into town to call a mechanic." You gestured back to your old yellow Ford that had started acting up a little ways back. When you pulled over to take a look at it, it just wouldn't start up again.

He looked over at the pretty blonde lady driving, giving her a look you couldn't see but she returned one that you couldn't quite read. The man turned back to you with a smile, “Well we’re dropping this fella off in Meade but I’m sure we could drop you in the next closest town. Shouldn’t be too far if you’d like a ride.”

A smile spread across your face, “Thank you so much.” You picked up your duffel bag and hustled over to the side of the car that was bordering the road, sliding into the seat when you threw the door open.

“What a good day for makin’ new friends, huh, honey?” The man said chipperly before turning around to look at the two of you in the back seat. “What were your names?”

“Y/N.” You answered warmly, glancing over at the boy beside you who sat stiffly, his jaw clenched tightly. You’d assumed he was with the couple but it seemed you may have been wrong.

He swallowed after a brief pause, his eyes widening in fear for a moment, “Arvin, sir.”

“Well, Arvin and Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you two. I’m Carl and this is my wife Sandy.” He patted Sandy on the shoulder and she gave him a small forced smile. Trouble in paradise, you thought. “Where you from Y/N?”

Your hands laid prim and proper in your lap, holding your skirt down from the breeze from Carl’s rolled down window, “Just a small town not too far from here actually. Barren Springs? Not many people have heard of it.”

“Can’t say I have,” Carl shook his head.

Arvin chimed in for the first time since you’d gotten in the car, “I've been through there for work before.”

“Yeah? You live nearby?” You asked, looking over at him. A blush heated your cheeks at the site of the handsome young man. His curly brown locks were messily pressed down against his head from the baseball cap that he had curled up in his lap.

Arvin just nodded a little when he made eye contact, “Coal Creek.” He swallowed hard, before his eyes darted away from yours and bounced off every moving object he could see.

“Oh, nice! I’ve only ever driven through it on the way to my grandparent’s house but it’s a cute little town.” You chipped, waiting for a response from Arvin but he only gave you a curt nod and fidgeted his hands along his legs. A thick silence settled over the car for a moment and you cast your gaze away from the attractive boy down to the mechanism that allowed the driver’s seat to adjust on the ground of the car, suddenly feeling like you overstepped with Arvin with your seemingly innocent comment.

“Looks like you’re set for a trip. You leaving or coming home?” Sandy asked, looking at you through the rear view mirror.

“Comin’ home,” You responded, replacing that polite smile and slightly higher voice you did when speaking to strangers, “A friend of mine from high school moved to Blacksburg with her sweetheart. I just went out there for their wedding.�� You smiled at the memory of their ceremony. It was one of those marriages that you just knew was meant to be.

“Awe, I just love weddings.” She said dreamily, gazing nostalgically out across the road.

You smiled and made a small noise of agreement. At the thought of weddings, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the idea of marrying the man sitting beside you. It was silly, you knew, fantasizing about marrying a complete and total stranger. Barren Springs didn’t have many good suitors to pick from and you had yet to make it out on your own into the world. It had been a long time since you’d been physically attracted to anyone as strongly as you were attracted to Arvin. Besides, you weren’t fantasizing about marrying him, per se, but more so just having a wedding with him. The thought of seeing him so handsome and dressed up and the way his eyes would sparkle with adoration when he saw you walk down the aisle in your dress. It was ridiculous! You could have laughed at yourself. You just wanted to think that maybe there was some possibility that he thought you were half as beautiful as you thought he was.

After some time driving in silence, with you sneaking many glances at the man sitting beside you, Carl spoke up, “Oh shit, my old billy don’t work like it used to. I’m gonna have to pull over and take a leak.” He trailed off, looking over at Sandy with a smile. She gave him a sharp look but slowed down. You wondered just how often of an inconvenience this must have been if she seemed so annoyed by the request. “Is that alright by you two?” He asked a little louder, directing the question at you and Arvin.

You and Arvin both got strange looks on your face, finding it strange that he felt the need to ask if he could use the restroom. “Sure,” Arvin muttered.

“Yeah, of course.” You added, eyes flicking between the man and woman up front.

“There should be a road up here on the right,” Carl directed Sandy, “Little further. Little further. Slow down. Right here.” The car slowed and rolled to a stop, rocks crunching beneath the tires. “This is good.”

You craned your head to watch the main road disappear a few dozen feet behind you and your nerves perked up. Arvin must have noticed the way you sucked a deep breath in, louder than usual, because he glanced over at you with a look in his eyes that told you that your sudden uneasiness was not unfounded. You watched as his eyes shot back and forth between the couple and then around at your surroundings.

You began to pick at the hem of your dress. Hitchhiking was something you tried to avoid at all costs and managed to do so successfully until this very day because the idea of getting in a car with a stranger made you nervous. You knew that in all likeliness, Carl probably was just going to use the restroom and then return and you’d be on your merry way. The little indecipherable looks he and Sandy kept shooting each other didn’t escape your notice though.

“I won’t be long.” Carl reassured, opening the door and stepping out. As he did, his jacket lifted and you saw the pistol tucked in the waistband of his pants clear as day and your eyes widened in silent panic.

A lot of people own guns out here, you tried to rationalize but it still didn’t sit right with you. None of this did. A rock the size of Texas sat heavy in your gut and you had an extreme urge to get as far from here as possible without raising suspicions. For one, it would be extremely awkward if you were wrong and you were freaking out over nothing. On the other hand, if they were planning to kill you, it could speed up the process before you could think up a way out of it.

You glanced over at Arvin and it was clear that he had noticed the gun as well because his jaw clenched tightly and his eyes followed Carl like a hawk watching a rabbit. Your hand slid across the seat and you nudged his leg, nodding ever so slightly towards Carl with wide implying eyes. Arvin breathed deeply and nodded, having seen exactly what you had seen. It was validating to know that Arvin didn’t feel right either but it was also even more unnerving because it meant the likelihood of danger was more likely.

Arvin rolled the window down to watch Carl more clearly and Sandy shifting up front drew your attention. You looked up to see her absentmindedly trying to light a match for the cigarette that hung between her lips. Finally, she got it lit and brought the flame to the tip of her cigarette. You watched her do this with intent, so much so that you jumped when Carl leaned through Arvin’s window and loudly announced, “Damn. That’s gonna be one fine sunset. You have to be patient with me while I get a few shots off. Hon, give me the key.”

He must have noticed the uncomfortable looks on yours and Arvin’s faces because he reassured, “Don’t you worry none. We’ve got some hooch in the back and… well, you got two pretty ladies with ya.” Carl raised his eyebrows at you and his partner before looking back at Arvin with a wink, “And Sandy’s good company.”

You fidgeted uncomfortably at the way Carl added that last part, not liking the way his tone implied certain things. Sandy turned around to shoot the pair of you a smile, one that both of you returned with a hard swallow in an attempt to not show that you were highly suspicious of whatever the hell this was. Your gaze went back to Carl, where the keys made a bulge in this back pocket and your heart fell at the sight. Those keys were your only chance of getting out of here.

The back of the car opened and you turned around to watch Carl retrieve a camera and a blanket, the gun still firmly in his waistband, before walking up to the side of the car and opening the door. Arvin flinched and looked over at Carl who motioned outside, “How ‘bout we all share a drink over this beautiful sunset. What y’all think?”

Your voice came out shaky, “Thank you but I don’t drink. It might be best if we get headin’ out sooner than later though. My ma’s expecting me home soon and I don’t wanna worry her.” Whether or not your words were lies was a moot point. Getting out of the car just felt like a bad move.

Carl shrugged, “Well, then, you can just watch the rest of us share a drink then. And don’t you worry. We’ll be on the road soon enough- just as soon as the sun sets. Your mama shouldn’t be too worried. Now why don’t you two come join us.” This time, it didn’t sound like much of a question.

Sandy had thrown her door open and stepped out onto the earth outside, slamming the door shut. You were surprised when she opened up your door and leaned against it, “C’mon, hon. You don’t have to drink any. Wouldn’t wanna miss such a pretty sunset, though, would you?”

With a partner on either side of you, you and Arvin looked at each other, knowing neither of you had a choice but to get out of the car. Reluctantly, you stepped out and walked around the back of the car towards the clearing that Carl was now leading Arvin too as well. He laid out the blanket on the ground and gestured for you and Arvin to sit down. Sandy followed shortly after with a mason jar full of a light peach liquid. She unscrewed the cap and took a swig straight from the jar, “I made it myself out o’ some strawberries I grew back home.”

“The best stuff in Ohio. My girl’s got a real gift.” Carl winked at his wife, who handed him the jar. He too took a sip before passing it to Arvin. Arvin just shook his head before murmuring a polite decline. Carl tsked, “C’mon boy. Don’t wanna hurt my wife’s feelings.” Arvin’s jaw tensed before he slowly took the strawberry hooch from your host and tilted it till the liquid touched his lips, though you couldn’t quite tell if he actually let any of the liquid enter his mouth or not.

He handed the jar back to Carl, not offering you any and you wondered if he was trying to respect your comment about not indulging in alcohol or if he was trying to keep you safe. Regardless, you were grateful. Carl raised the jar towards you, offering it silently, but you put your hand up, “Thank you but I’ll have to pass. I’m sure it’s delicious though.”

“Alright, suit yourself.” He said with a shrug, taking a sip himself before screwing the lid back on and setting it on the blanket.

Sandy came to sit just beside you and Arvin on the blanket, looking up at her husband who was still standing. “Wouldn’t they make a cute couple, Carl?” She pondered out loud and you couldn’t help the blush in your cheeks at the thought. Arvin shifted beside you, most likely feeling just as weird about the comment as you did.

“Now, Sandy, no need to make the poor kids uncomfortable,” He chided lightly, turning around, “But, y’know, this is a real nice picture. Do y’all mind if I take a few shots for posterity’s sake? I mean, seein’ as we probably won’t see each other again after today.”

Before you could answer, Sandy was already scooting in close to Arvin and forcefully initiating a pose, “Alright, now you,” Carl pointed at you, “Scootch in just a little closer.” Your arms shook as they lifted your body enough to move a few inches closer to Arvin. “Perfect. Now everyone smile.” You tried your hardest to force a smile but you couldn’t get one out that was worth any photo.

Carl stood up, as if he was in thought, “I’m a photographer and I would love to get some posed shots if y’all wouldn’t mind. Now, Sandy, why don’t you step back for just a moment while we get these two together. Good. Now, Arvin, you put your arm around her- good! Just like that.”

Arvin awkwardly placed his arm on the ground behind your back, just close enough to look like the two of you were leaning into each other. Carl pulled away from the camera with a smile, “Sandy is right. You two would make a cute couple. Now, Sandy, why you don’t hop back in there. Perfect.”

Carl paused for a moment to ponder his next pose, “Now, Arvin, why don’t you lean back and touch my wife. Y/N, I want you to kiss him while he does it.”

The instructions slipped from his lips with such little reservation that you were convinced you misheard him for a moment. The man had been fairly polite thus far, if not a bit odd with his quips and pryingly friendly remarks, so the bluntness with which he just told you and Arvin to perform semi-sexual acts on each other and his wife took you off guard. “Excuse me?” You shrank back, ripping your body away from Arvin and Sandy with a velocity that almost jolted you.

When you did, your hand grazed a large patch of skin that had previously been covered with her fuzzy cheetah print coat. You whipped around to see her sitting behind you in nothing but her underwear and you quickly realized that you had grazed just beneath her bare breast. “What the fuck!” You jumped, moving away from the nearly nude woman.

Arvin jumped when her hand rested on his shoulder and moved away as well, looking between the man and woman who clearly saw nothing wrong with what they were doing. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here but we’re leaving.” Arvin pressed with a firm voice, standing up and offering his hand to you, pulling you up to almost be tucked into his side, his hand staying on your arm protectively.

Carl looked at him like he was some naive boy. “Boy, I’m giving you the opportunity to fuck my wife and that beautiful girl over there while I take pictures. You’re a damned fool if you turn this down.”

“You guys are sick. I will not be having sex with anyone here today!” You exclaimed indignantly at Carl’s implication that you were going to be just fine with this.

The older man looked over to you and waved his hand with a cocky knowing smirk. “I’ve seen you lookin’ at ‘im the whole drive. You’re tellin’ me you don’t want to make love to this boy right here? And what about my wife? You ever been with a woman?” Carl asked, eyes flicking back to Sandy, who wiggled her breasts and gave you a comforting look that told you she would help you through whatever experience you may have lacked.

You found yourself stepping backwards, away from Arvin even. Your head shook, a boiling mixture of terror, rage, and embarrassment burning inside you, “I-I-I already told you. I ain’t doing no-”

Words failed when Carl reached behind him and pulled out the gun you’d noticed earlier, pointing it right at your chest, “Now look, I hate pointin’ a gun at a pretty young thing like yourself but I’m gonna shoot you if you don’t start doin’ what I say. You and my wife are gonna give this boy the best time of his life and I’m gonna take pictures while you do it. That’s it. You understand?”

The world around you seemed to freeze while you stared down the barrel of his pistol. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t talk. Sandy moved closer to you, her lips coming to your neck in a gentle kiss that made your skin crawl. A single tear rolled down your cheek while you stared at the gun that was still pointed at you, Sandy’s hand moving to brush your hair off your neck so she had more access. There was nothing you could do. If you made any move to shove her off, he’d shoot you. If you made a move to run, he’d shoot you. If you tried to knock the gun out of his hand, he’d shoot you. All you could do for the time being was let Sandy do what she would until you could find the right moment to disarm Carl and get the hell out of here.

She looked up at Arvin with sultry eyes over your shoulder, “C’mon, Arvin. You ever thought about being with two women at once before?”

Arvin swallowed hard as he watched how you sat with tears welling in your eyes, trying your hardest not to break in this impossible situation. He stood in seething anger and fear, his heart breaking a little when your hands snapped up to grab her wrists as her hands crept around your front and unpopped the top two buttons of your blouse.

There was a click from Carl cocking the pistol and he took a step closer to you, “I told you I would shoot you if you don’t start playin’ along. This is your last warning. You’re testing my patience, girl.” Your legs were nearly giving out on you when Sandy popped open another two buttons, your bra clearly exposed for everyone to see. Your shirt was unbuttoned as far as it could go before disappearing into the waistband of your skirt where it was tucked in.

Arvin looked away from your exposed upper body, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable and violated than you already were. Suddenly, there was a small flash and the click of a camera and Arvin snapped his focus over to Carl to see him snapping pictures of you, half nude and trying not to fall apart. A coil of pure hatred had been building in Arvin since the first direction of sexual acts but now he was on the verge of tackling and killing Carl right now with his bare hands.

When he looked at you, eyes clenched shut now and silent tears pouring out the corners, he could see Lenora. Both of you were just fearful girls being taken advantage of by someone with too much power. He couldn’t save his sister but maybe he could save you. Arvin could feel his father’s Luger in his pocket but he wasn’t sure if he could draw it and shoot Carl before he could pull the trigger on you. His father’s words came back to him. Wait for the right moment.

Carl whipped his head over to look at Arvin and snapped at him, “I ain’t askin’ again, son. Get in there and start touchin’ those girls!” Carl took the gun off you for just a moment to point it at Arvin and encourage him to approach you and Sandy.

Now, it wasn’t that Arvin had no regard for his own life. The last thing he wanted to do was die, especially after how hard he’d had to fight his whole life, but he was more willing to risk getting himself shot than you. His hand had been gripped around his pistol in the pocket of his denim jacket, just waiting for the right moment to get the two of you away safely. In a second, he cocked the gun and drew it quickly, firing sloppily in Carl’s direction.

Two gunshots rang out.

You screamed, thinking that Carl had just murdered Arvin before your eyes and that you were next. Your eyes were clenched shut until you noticed Carl seethe in anger and pain, “Fuck! Fuck you boy!” And then multiple more gunshots.

This time, there were no more groans of pain, only the heavy thud of Carl’s body on the ground. His gun fell to the ground when his hand loosened and you dove for it, snapping out of Sandy’s grip. You landed hard, your bare chest and abdomen scraping painfully against the sticks and rocks when your body slid against the rough ground. You grabbed the gun and turned to point it at Sandy, who had also procured a gun from God knows where and had it aimed right at you. You didn’t hesitate.

Again, there were two bangs.

You fell back after you fired off your shot and in your panicked state, you couldn’t tell if you’d been hit, your arms had given up supporting your weight on the ground, or if the recoil from the gun was that intense.

There was the sound of another body hitting the ground.

Arving rushed to your side, falling to his knees and inspecting you for immediate signs of physical distress. “Are you okay? Were you shot?”

Your hands ran all over your body, trying to feel for any signs of being shot. You couldn’t feel any part of your body right now, the adrenaline distorting your perception of pain. Even the large bloody scratches on your chest, breasts, stomach, arms, and knees weren’t causing any discomfort at the moment. You shook your head, “I- I don’t think so. Were you?”

He shook his head, helping lift you to sitting, “No-no, I’m alright. We need to get out of here though.”

Your knees were shaky as you tried to stand up but they almost gave out on you when you saw the dead bodies on the forest floor. Carl had been shot three times, twice in the chest and once in the arm. Sandy was already pale with a bloody entrance wound in her throat.

“Oh my God… we killed them.” You were nearly hyperventilating, stumbling backwards. Arvin walked with you, holding you up until you stopped moving.

“They were gonna kill us. We had no choice.” He held you tightly by the shoulders, looking straight into your teary and panicked eyes.

“The police ain't gonna believe that.” Your entire life just crumbled to pieces before your eyes, all because you hitched a ride with some strangers.

Arvin shook his head, “That’s why we gotta get outta here. Leave ‘em. Don’t tell anybody about what happened.”

His words sunk in and you nodded in agreement. The honest part of you wanted to tell the police. Maybe they could help you but you knew that there was an equal chance they’d lock you up for murder as well. You couldn’t risk it. Running was the only option.

Carl’s gun was still in your hand and once you realized it, you wiped it down on your skirt before placing it back in Carl’s hand. “What’re you doin’?” Arvin asked, watching you meticulously place it as if it had just fallen in place.

“Makin’ it look like a murder-suicide. They can’t pin it to us if it don’t look like they were just murdered.” You explained, leaving the gun in his hand and taking a few shaky steps back as you stared at the corpse. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. You had never imagined yourself shooting anyone let alone fixing a crime scene to get away with murder. This was an extreme situation though. You had to shoot Sandy and Arvin had to shoot Carl. They were going to kill you two if you didn’t kill them first.

Arvin noticed the way your face had noticeably paled and how your eyes were glued to Carl’s body and the splatters of crimson liquid that pooled on his shirt and dripped onto the earth beneath his body. He stepped between you and Carl’s body and put his hand on your shoulder, the other gently on your face. His beautiful face blocked your view but you still struggled to fight the tunnel vision. “Hey, look at me. Look at me!” He urged, his grip on your face getting ever so slightly more firm when he noticed your eyes try to dart around his frame to see the body again. Arvin wasn’t hurting you by any means, just trying to keep you focused on him. “You did what you had to do, ya hear me? They was gonna kill both of us. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong. Now we just gotta get outta here, okay?”

You swallowed hard and nodded, your eyes squeezing shut tightly for just a moment to ground yourself. In your brief moment of meditation, you tried to focus on anything to ground you but the only calming thing you could process was Arvin’s comforting hands on your shoulder and face and the way you could feel his gaze still on you with so much concern and determination, even with your eyes closed.

When you opened them again, you breathed out, “Okay.”

Arvin glanced down and noticed the thin trails of blood that were starting to dribble down your torso from the deeper scrapes and at first reached out to button your shirt for you but hesitated, his hands shrinking back when he realized he wasn’t sure whether that was the appropriate response. You flinched back a little when he reached for your top out of pure instinct but quickly relaxed. You glanced down, just now noticing that your shirt was still unbuttoned. “‘M sorry, I just…” You trailed off, unsure of how to explain your new reaction in light of the trauma you’d just gone through. Your fingers nimbly began to button up your shirt but you hissed when the fabric tightened around the copious lesions.

“No, it’s alright. Here, take my jacket.” He was already shrugging off the denim jacket before he finished speaking.

You put your hand up, clutching the opened fabric of your shirt together in your hand in front of your chest instead of buttoning it properly, finding this way you could keep the fabric from sticking to your wounds. “I can’t take your jacket. I don’t wanna get blood on it.” Arvin’s eyes followed yours until they landed on the small spots of blood already seeping through your thin blouse.

Without allowing you to protest, he slung in over your shoulders, engulfing you arms and all. “It’s fine, really. I insist. You can’t go walkin’ ‘round all exposed like that. I can try to help you clean up if we find any rags.”

You sighed when the fabric covered your arms and his scent engulfed your senses. Yet again, you found yourself numb to the world, if only for a second, but this time because all you could experience was Arvin Russel. Tunnel vision made him your only view and all you inhaled was the scent of clean musk, wet earth, and the faint scent of car grease. “Thank you.” You whispered, gripping onto the open sides just enough to keep the garment from slipping off your shoulders.

Arvin just nodded reassuringly before wordlessly taking off towards Carl and Sandy’s car. You followed curiously. He searched around frantically and, while you were unsure of what he was looking for, you were curious to see what he’d find. For the most part, there was nothing out of the usual, until he came across a roll of film in the glove compartment. With trembling hands, he unrolled the small canister and looked at the negatives. “Oh my God-” He trailed off in horror.

“What is it?” You asked, reaching for the film. The images nearly made you throw up. Even though they were difficult to see because they were only negatives, it was still fairly clear what they were. Pictures of men and Sandy filled the roll but they got progressively more violent and graphic, sexually and gorily. At first, they were just sitting together but then Sandy was topless in the next one and then they were kissing in the one after that and then the man would be naked in the following. Eventually, there’d only be a pool of what you assumed to be blood where his genitals should have been before finally just shots of a motionless bloody corpse that used to be whoever that poor man was.

“Shit… we were next, weren’t we?” You asked, images of you and Arvin facing this same kind of torture flooding your mind and making your stomach churn. The guilt you had felt for shooting Sandy was melting away and you actually felt almost glad you and Arvin had ended this pair of monsters. They couldn’t hurt anyone else the way they had brutally slaughtered these other men.

“I think so. Fuck, there’s a bunch of ‘em.” Arvin pulled out at least four other canisters, too scared to open them. It was safe to assume what they were photos of and you really didn’t want to see anymore.

Your hands shook so much you could barely keep your grip on the negatives, “We need to give these to the police. If we prove they were serial killers, maybe they won’t send us to jail. It was self-defense.”

Arvin really did appreciate the fact that you so badly wanted to be good and honest. Killing people wasn’t easy and he was pretty damn sure you’d never done it before. Hell, before today, neither had he. Maybe it would be easy for you to get off without any charges if you came clean but he was sure the police would be looking for him for killing Preston Teagarden any moment now. The note he’d left for his uncle and grandma back home was pretty much sure evidence that he was the murderer. If the two of you went to the police, he’d be practically turning himself in. He couldn’t do it.

“I-I can’t go to the police. I can’t tell you why but I can’t. If you want to go to the police, you can’t tell ‘em I was here. Tell ‘em you was by yourself.” Arvin looked up at you from where he sat in the passenger seat.

You looked down at him, realization dawning on your face. “You did somethin’, didn’t you? That’s why you were hitchhiking. You were runnin’ away.”

Arvin got quiet and looked down at the ground where your white shoes, now scuffed up from the encounter, made contact with the soil and leaves that covered the ground. He shouldn’t tell you the truth but for some reason he really wanted to. There was an energy radiating off of you that felt safe and understanding and maybe he shouldn’t trust you but gosh did he want to. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he answered, still avoiding your gaze, “I- I didn’t want to but… he hurt my sister real bad.”

Your silence scared Arvin. He shouldn’t have opened up, especially to a girl that was practically a stranger. Being nearly killed by a pair of serial killers creates a strange bond between two people though. Arvin’s heart stopped beating until you finally spoke again. “I believe you. It’s okay.”

The surprise was clear in Arvin’s scared eyes when he finally looked back up to you. You didn’t look scared of him like he had feared. You actually looked almost sad for him.

Inside, you were. Arvin Russell was a good man - you could just feel it. From your brief but intense experience with him today, you could tell that he was a kind, polite soul but there was clearly a fire that burned inside him, an urge to protect those he cared about. You had seen first hand that he was more than capable of protecting himself and others, even at high stakes… and now so were you. You were no different than him now so you were in no position to judge for what he may have done.

“If you don’t want to go to the police, we won’t. We can get as far from here as possible and keep this our secret.” You assured, uncomfortable by how comfortable you were with the idea of running from the law.

Arvin took a moment to try and figure out the next step. Whatever it was, it needed to happen fast so you two had enough time to put space between you and the crime scene. He thought to the next closest town and groaned, “What’s wrong with your car?”

“I don’t know. It just started actin’ up while I was drivin’ and when I pulled over, it wouldn’t start up again.” You thought back to the vehicle, which still sat on the side of the road no more than three miles back.

Arvin stood up from the passenger seat and you stepped aside so he could have some room. “I know a little ‘bout cars. It might not be too bad a fix. Walkin’ back and fixing up the car wouldn’t take as long as walking the next ten or fifteen miles to Falksville.” Arvin was right. You were right between Coal Creek, where apparently Arvin was on the run from, and Falksville, the next town over. It would take hours to walk there.

“Alright,” you agreed. You walked to the backdoor and opened it to grab your duffel bag, handing Arvin his bag as well. Before the two of you started your trek back to your car, you couldn’t help but look back at the crime scene - the two dead bodies lying motionless, knowing you did that, the way that you had manipulated the scene, the way that you were running away with Arvin to literally flee the police. The weight of the situation weighed on you with a heavy sigh.

A hand rested on your shoulder, “We did what we had to.” You tore your gaze from the scene, the image burned into your memory for the rest of your life. It was difficult to argue with those beautiful brown eyes that looked at you like you were someone he genuinely cared for, not like you were the stranger to him that you actually were.

You stood up a little straighter, cast one more look over at the scene before turning around to face the road. “I know.”

The walk took almost an hour and neither of you tried to hitchhike your way there. Once you arrived, you attempted to clean your wounds with a pile of napkins you had hidden in your glove compartment and a water bottle while Arvin tinkered under the hood of your car. it didn’t take long for him to figure out the problem and with the help of the tool set your father insisted on you keeping in your trunk in case of an emergency (like this), he was able to get the car up and running.

“Alright, try it now.” He instructed from under the hood. You sat in the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition whenever Arvin instructed to see if the car would turn over. You twisted the key again and the car struggled at first, the pulsing mechanical sound of the car trying to turn over tearing through the quiet woods. Just as you were about to admit defeat this round, the roar of the engine came to life and just like that, your car ran again.

A big smile spread across your face and you jumped out of the driver’s seat to stand beside Arvin, both of you looking down at the engine beneath the hood. “I can’t believe that worked! Thank you so much!”

Arvin reached up and shut the hood. “It’s no problem. We should get goin’ though.”

You nodded in agreement, “Where do you need a ride to?”

He thought for a moment. Arvin wasn’t quite sure. He had been hitching rides to Meade so he could see his old home but you weren’t going anywhere near that way. He didn’t want to ask you to go so far out of your way but then it occurred to him…. “Where are you goin’?”

“Back home. My parents are expectin’ me home tonight but I can give you a ride where you need.” You answered as if it were obvious. The best way to act normal was to do exactly that: act normal.

Arvin chewed his tongue, “You don’t live too far from here. It might be easy to link you to the crime if they catch you.” He didn’t want to scare you but he also didn’t want to see you get locked up.

You rolled your eyes, “If that were true, they’d have to suspect every person in a thirty mile radius. It’s illogical for the police to single us out. You can stay at my house for a few days, if you need.”

Arvin just shook his head, “I got some things I gotta do. Look, I really think you should get away for a little while so they can’t connect you to the crime but I understand if not. If it’s not too much to ask, though, would you mind possibly given’ me a lift to Falksville so I can hitch a ride there? I ain’t got much money for gas but-”

“I ain’t lettin’ you hitchhike your way to Meade. Not after what just happened. I can give you a ride there.” You leaned against the hood of your car and looked up at him sincerely.

“You sure? What ‘bout your parents? Ain’t they expectin’ you?”

You just shrugged, “I’ll call ‘em in Fawksville and tell ‘em I decided to head up to Meade for a few days. Shouldn’t be a problem at all. That way I can give you a ride up to Meade and then you can take the bus there to wherever you wanna go.”

“That’s real kind of you. Thank you.” His hands twitched in his pocket, wanting to reach out and hug you but physical affection had made Arvin nervous ever since his mother got sick.

You nodded your head back to the car, “Hop in. We can head out and get as far as we can tonight. Either find a hotel or we can switch off when we get too tired.” Arvin listened and wordlessly slid into the passenger seat.

The two of you drove off into the night, the stars beginning to shine brightly in the lightless woods. You weren’t quite sure what your life would be like now and neither was Arvin. There was blood on your hands and there would be a constant paranoia that one day the cops would catch up with you and throw you in prison, even if you ran away like Arvin had suggested.

And then there was Arvin. Handsome, altruistic, and brave, you were bonded to this stranger by the horrors you had endured and the blood you had shed. Though the two of you were strangers, there was a closeness that you felt to him that seemed impossible to feel with anyone else- a bond between survivors that would always be there, even if you never saw each other again. Something told you that this man would be a salient figure in your life, though.

As you drove off down the highway, the only sound being the faint crackling radio, you tried to leave the horrors of the road behind you but there was a feeling in your gut that this was far from the end.

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