#honored to see this fella drawn

[writeroutoftime]

a secret language

pairing: 1940s!bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: flower shop au - when bucky stumbles across your little flower shop, you're enamored. too bad he keeps coming in to buy flowers for his mystery women (using the prompts "you aren't over her, are you?/not even close")

warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff :)

words: 2k

a/n: a very very late entry for @ghostofskywalker's writing challenge from last year lol. when I saw the prompts for this challenge this was the first thought that came to mind. but life and writer's block gets in the way. now I know it’s not actually going on anymore but I just wanted to get this out, better late than never right? plus, I'm so excited for my first flower shop au! please enjoy!!

oOoOo

Tucked away from the hustle and bustle of New York City was a cozy flower shop, hidden in plain sight on the streets of Brooklyn. Most New Yorkers buzzed past the faded, yellow building without a second glance, too caught up in their own mind to notice. Those who did take the time to venture in, however, found a beautiful secret garden in the heart of a concrete city. A warm and cozy oasis for those that crossed the threshold. Who would have thought your life would have changed so drastically with one fateful customer?

oOoOo

The bell above the door jingled merrily followed by the thud of hurried footsteps. "I'll be with you in just a moment." you shouted over your shoulder, placing the finishing touches on the bouquet in front of you.

Finally satisfied, you turned to face your newest customer and found your breath drawn from your body. The slight crack of electricity in the air didn’t escape your notice. Shiny blue eyes met your own and a lopsided smile graced your sight. In that moment, you were thankful for the counter between you to hide the slight shake of your knees. You quickly gathered your bearings and wiped your hands against your apron, offering a soft smile to the man in front of you.

“Hello. How may I help you today?”

“Hi, doll.” he spoke as his foot bounced nervously against the tiled floor. "I'm, uh, looking for some flowers for my Ma. You see it's her birthday today and I, uh, kinda -"

"Forgot?" you filled in, hiding your smile as best as you could. The man in front of you hung his head sheepishly at your words but nodded his head. "Well, you've come to the right place." you gestured to the bouquets of flowers around the shop. "What kind of flowers does your mother like?"

The man’s brows furrowed, and his mouth opened like he was going to say something, but simply grasped for straws instead. "The...pink ones?"

It was at that moment you couldn’t help but burst out laughing, despite your best efforts at professionalism. “What?” the man asked, flushing slightly, though he laughed along with you.

“I’m sorry, but the pink ones? I’ll take it you don’t know much about flowers, do you?” you asked.

“You caught me, doll.” he smirked. “Mind helpin’ a fella out?” he asked, flashing you another charming grin.

Holding up one finger, you turned your back once more and began to create a simple, yet beautiful bouquet. Buzzing around your shop you grabbed some orchids, a few peonies, tied together with a touch of baby’s breath. Gently wrapping the flowers in brown paper, you smiled proudly at your creation before turning back to the eagerly waiting man.

“Violia!” you presented, holding out the bouquet, waiting to see his reaction.

The man took the bouquet carefully from your hands and looked at you with a dazzling smile. “These are just wonderful. Much better than the “pink ones” I suggested.”

“You’ve got orchids for love, peonies for honor, and some baby’s breath to tie it all together.” you explained, pointing out each flower as you went.

“Well, I’ll be. I had no idea that flowers could have so much meaning, but I’m glad I had such a pretty teacher to introduce me.” he flirted. “How much for the bouquet?”

Though he seemed to be like a heartbreaker, there was something about his tone that seemed rather genuine, you named your price. “Discounted for a first-time costumer, in exchange for your name, of course.” you giggled.

Rather taken aback by your charm, the stranger answered. “James, but most people call me Bucky. And you are?”

“y/n.” you answered softly, silently repeating his name over and over in your head.  

Grinning like the Chesire Cat, Bucky took hold of his bouquet, offered you a wink, and headed out the door, throwing a “See ya, ‘round, y/n.” over his shoulder.

You decided you quite liked the way your name sounded on his lips.

The next day proved to be rather quiet, only the occasional customer every few hours. Broom in hand, you spent some time tidying up the shop when Bucky burst through your door, a grateful smile on his face. “Hey there, doll. Just wanted to say that my Ma loved the flowers, so thank you again for saving me.”

Bashfully, you looked at the floor then up at Bucky. “Well, it’s my job and my pleasure. Glad I could help bring your mother some joy on her special day.”

There was a small silence that followed as Bucky took in your shop and all the flowers that sprouted from every corner. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, looked rather disappointed, and tried again. “So, uh, you mentioned all these flowers having meaning. What would you recommend getting a gal you’re trying to impress?” he asked, and your heart fell to the floor.

Of course, this handsome stranger would already have his eyes on someone. They were probably sweet and lovely and knew how to flirt with handsome men. As best you could, you swallowed the hurt and pushed forward. “Well, you could go with roses, but that’s a bit cliché and you may be coming on too strong. You could also go with sunflowers for loyalty.” you suggested.

“Then I’ll have one of your finest sunflowers.” Bucky decided, leaning against the counter with a smile as he watched you flitter about the shop preparing his order. “Thanks, doll.” he said when you handed him the flower.

As he turned to walk out the door, you watched Bucky pause for a moment as though he was thinking, but ultimately kept going. Leaving you only with the jingle of the bell and the ache of your heart.

oOoOo

This was a pattern that continued for the next few weeks. Every Thursday during lunch, you looked forward to seeing Bucky walk through your shop doors with that same cocky grin. The two of you settled into a routine that consisted of him greeting you sweetly before asking for yet another flower recommendation for Bucky’s mysterious girl.

Each week you couldn’t believe this girl had yet to accept Bucky’s advances. Was she blind or something? And you weren’t just talking about her looks. Over the weeks, you also got to know about Bucky bit by bit. You learned about his family and Steve. About his hopes, his dreams, and you knew deep down he truly was a wonderful person. And because of that, you wanted the best for him and continued to offer your suggestions.

You gave him daises for new beginnings.

Lilacs for youth.

Lilies for admiration.

Carnations for devotion.  

The only flower Bucky had yet to get for this girl was roses. He told you he was waiting until he knew she would return his affection.

Each and every time, you sighed wistfully as Bucky left with his flowers, wishing you could be the one of the receiving end. Sure, you spent your entire day around flowers, but there was something so much more powerful about being gifted them by someone who cared about you.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that everything fell into place. Lunch on Thursday came and went without Bucky gracing your shop with his presence. You tried to mask your hurt by throwing yourself into work, but you still worried and hoped he was okay. Finally, as the day was coming to an end, you heard the jingle of bells.

“Sorry I’m late, doll.” Bucky’s voice called out. “I know you’re about to close, but I was hoping you could help me out.”

Knowing you couldn’t deny him, you nodded gently and waited for his request.

“I think I’m ready to finally get those red roses.” he explained, his confidence growing.

It was like the words pierced your heart. His mystery girl must finally be ready to accept Bucky’s affection – took her long enough. Wordlessly, you forced a smile and began to gather a few red roses to make a bouquet. As much as you wished you to keep your mouth shut, curiosity got the best of you.

“So, who’s the lucky girl you keep buying flowers for?” you finally asked, not sure if your heart could take the answer. In all the weeks Bucky had come to your shop, you avoided asking about this girl, but you just needed to know.

Bucky smiled bashfully, running a hand through his hair. “She’s something special. She’s incredibly beautiful and wickedly smart. She runs her own place and is always willing to go the extra mile to help people. But I don’t think she’ll go for a guy like me.” he explained, sighing rather dreamily.

“You really aren’t over her, are you?” you asked, heart aching at the thought of Bucky continually pining after this girl, and thinking you would never get your chance.

Bucky watched you for a moment, leaning against the counter. “Not even close.”

Ready for the exchange to be over with, you finished the bouquet and presented them to Bucky. “Here you are. On the house, since it seems like such a special day.” you declared.

Bucky took the flowers from your hands and looked at them with a smile before offering them back to you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Is there something wrong with them, Bucky? You don’t think she’ll like them?”

“They’re perfect.” he reassured. “I’m just giving these flowers to the girl who stole my heart.” he told you with a wicked grin.

A few moments passed as you processed his words. The reality of what Bucky said hit you, but you forced yourself to stay calm. No, he couldn’t be implying what you thought he was. Carefully you cradled the flowers and looked into Bucky’s eyes. “W-what about your mystery girl? All those flowers you bought her?” you asked, lost for words.

“Well, uh, you see, doll. It’s been you, it’s always been you. From the second time I came into your shop I wanted to ask you out, but I was too scared. So, I bought a flower instead, and was still to scared to give it to you. I thought each week I would finally have the courage, but it’s taken me until now to tell you.” he confessed, cheeks and ears-tinged pink.

Your mind thought back to all the flowers Bucky had bought from you. There truly was no mystery girl? It had been you all along? Your heart swelled at the thought and a dazzling grin broke out on your face. “Oh, Bucky. You didn’t have to go through all that trouble and buy all those flowers you never got to give.”

“Actually,” he chuckled as he placed a leather-bound journal on the counter in front of you. “I did save them to give to you. All meanings intentional.”

Setting the roses aside, you moved to grab the journal and carefully flipped through the pages. You let out a small gasp as you saw that each page contained the flowers you had sold Bucky perfectly pressed and preserved. It was like a beautiful collage of a bouquet, telling you exactly how Bucky felt.

“I asked my Ma how to press them until I could man up and give them to you.” he explained when you remained silent.

“They’re perfect.” you whispered, tears briming in your eyes. “I have to say, I was getting rather jealous of this girl you were giving all those flowers to.” you admitted.

“Hey, don’t cry, shop girl.” Bucky comforted, brushing the tears away with the pad of his thumb. “You’re the only one for me.” he said before leaning over your bouquet journal and sweetly kissed you.

Your tiny shop swelled with love and warmth even more, and you knew this was only the first of kisses and bouquets with the lovely man before you.

[eriisaam]

So in honor of it being Year of the Snake time, I'm easily distracted with thoughts of drawing snek-boi Eclair. Specifically, a more up-to-date version. (I had concept art of an earlier version years before but I uh... deleted it long ago... I still have the sketch, but the post with them is gone, so don't worry about it. It was hot garbage anyways💦)

Previously, (without counting the aforementioned "we don't talk about the old concept one...") only his small form was revealed prior already, but not his fully-realized form, nor his in-between states.

So, what started as 'Maybe I should draw sneklair for the occasion' quickly turned into 'how big a snek we talking?' and that's the inspo for the latest round of poll time (now tagged for. I prommy.) The options this time?

Smol snek - Something to do with Eclair's 'ran out of energy/spoons/health' form, which you've already technically seen before (as a 'hat' alongside everyone else's 'low spoons' mini forms) but actually drawn out instead of FEH-sprited this time.

Swol snek - Lamia Eclair, or the aforementioned in-between state where he's both part-human and part-snake.

BEEG Snek - His fully-realized beast form, the extreme opposite end of the previously-revealed mini version.

Forget snakes, gimmie chicken - Tired of summoners and Eclair lately? We could try for a guy I hadn't drew in forever as a change of pace instead. Which guy? Some guy. :)

Snek on a string - Is this just the results button, or is this an actual option now? Well... :)

[mask-of-prime]

TLG: Proud of You

In honor of Hyena Appreciation Day, as well as the need to express my headcanon connecting Janja's relation to Shenzi's clan and leadership of his own clan at such a young age, I decided to draw and write a complementary fic of basically yet another one of those episodes The Lion Guard should've had XD Not once have I ever posted a drawing of Janja on here, you'd think I would've drawn him sooner lol

(Also, Sita and Saba are a common name headcanon for those extra unnamed hyenas in Janja’s clan)

Fanfic for this picture below:

Somewhere in the deserts of East Africa…

Growing up, Janja developed a bit of an inferiority complex seeing how differently the males -- especially the cubs -- were treated. The misfit youngsters were treated like outcasts among the clan; slow-witted, easily beaten by the girl cubs, just utterly hopeless in the eyes of the adults, particularly that of the mothers, who would ignore them most of the time. Janja's very own mother, Shenzi, was the coldest with him. He was her only child, a son, a problem.

During a planned meetup with his outcast friends, Janja overheard the adults muttering amongst themselves:

"Things sure have gotten pretty bleak since we took down Scar..." a male hyena said glumly.

"Ohh, you don't want Shenzi to hear that name." a female shook her head desperately, "You know how she feels about the whole thing."

Janja stopped in his tracks and listened to the lower members of the clan. He'd heard that name before, snippets of things about that lion murdering his brother and a legendary team of guardians, and something about one day selling the clan out, why the clan had long moved on from a prosperous land called the Pridelands to become nomads. Nomads with no true place to stay... The adolescent tilted his head for more details.

The male spoke up, "I know, but... remember when he led us to the top? Got the first line of the Pridelands' defense out of the way by destroying the Lion Guard, fed us leftovers, promised us more food when he got the throne? We were set for life when he was king!"

Janja was excited by this news. Too excited. What did Shenzi think was so wrong with this Scar guy? He'd taken off before the female had refuted by mentioning that Scar's faults had led to the gradual loss of respect for Scar's unreasonable unfairness, and ultimately his downfall. Dire information which could've talked Janja right out of a new plan…

……

"He really let the clan eat all of that yummy zebra?!” said a wide-eyed, young Chungu.

“And aaantelopes… Mmmm…” added a tiny Cheezi, licking his lips with his perpetually-always-out tongue.

“More than that, fellas! We was his second-in-commands basically!” Janja straightened his stance, but quickly faltered slightly in thought. He suddenly beamed, “But… What if a hyena was first-in-command? With me as leader!”

Two cubs, Nne and Tano, looked at each other doubtfully. The remaining two, Sita and Saba, listened intently with silence, tails wagging in support. Janja glanced to the side, tilting his head slightly.

‘Yeah… that’ll show Ma how good a leader I could be!’ he thought to himself, grinning at his genius scheme…

……

Janja slid into the entrance of the temporary residence the clan had taken up, excited to tell his mother the news.

“Ma! Ma!” he shouted. Shenzi turned around from facing the wall.

“Guess what?! I know a place we can stay! It’s got food, water, beautiful scenery…” Janja continued, bouncing.

“Where within miles of this place have you heard of a place like that?” Shenzi furrowed her eyebrows.

“The Pridelands!” Janja hopped, “The Pridelands!! We could rule it again…”

Shenzi’s eyes widened at the familiar name. She furrowed her brows again, “Janja, we have food everywhere we go. All the dives we can-”

“Yeah, yeah, but I want a place where we can rest! No more sleeping in the rain, no more thunderstorms, no more bein’ kicked out. I can lead us there! L-Like Scar once di-” Janja suddenly felt a force swipe his face.

“DON’T YOU GO SAYIN’ THAT NAME IN THIS CAVE! YOU HEAR ME?!” Shenzi suddenly hollered.

Janja’s slapped cheek burned, tears filled his eyes. “Ma, I-I didn’t mean to say h-his-”

“Scar was a no-good, double-crossing tyrant, and I will not let no son of mine follow that act!” Shenzi ranted, feeling herself becoming overwhelmed with flashbacks of her failures.

Janja scowled, blinking the tears from his eyes.

“When did you start caring about some son of yours?” he finally said.

He stormed out of the cave into the hazy, orange sunset. Shenzi tightened her lip as she watched him leave, incredulous of his impertinence. She never knew it would be the last time she’d see Janja. Her son. Her only child…

……

Janja rallied the young misfit cubs of the clan and marched southbound to the Pridelands over a course of months. They settled in the Outlands for now, brainstorming as they watched the overwhelming amount of surveillance that populated the Pridelands, until Mzingo flew in and gave them the call to begin their takeover, their first move into the Pridelands. Tonight, they strike.

One year later…

Janja had learned by now that Scar was just as his mother said. Scar’s resurrected, fiery spirit had found a way to diminish Janja’s position as leader after he’d worked so hard to get to that point, Scar had rendered him fearful and submissive, and had finally double-crossed him and his clan. Luckily Janja and his clan escaped with the help of Jasiri and the Lion Guard. The aforementioned Jasiri taught him a better life as a hyena. She showed him a now prosperous land that he could stay in, with food and respect for the Circle of Life. It was way better than what Scar had done for the hyenas as king.

Initially thinking Janja to be in the Pridelands, Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed searched far and wide until they reached the Pridelands through the Backlands. They were quickly pursued by the new Lion Guard, a reinforcement to Pride Rock that they hadn’t seen since Scar had destroyed them...

“Halt! State your business.” bellowed a rough, feminine voice. It was Vitani.

“Where’s. Janja.?” Shenzi said softly.

Vitani silently tilted her head, as did her lionesses.

“We just want to bring Janja home…”. Shenzi pleaded, with a much firmer voice. Banzai and Ed shared her sorrowful look.

“Wait…” the lioness said, slowly recognizing the faces of the three hyenas that stood before her. She remembered them from her early cubhood, and with the recent help of viewing Rafiki’s paintings on the walls of the Lion Guard Lair. Narrowing her eyes, she took a few steady steps closer.

“I know you, you were the hyenas that worked for Scar… ran off during the fire…” Vitani lunged forward a bit to appear menacing. “What do you plan to do with Janja?”

Shenzi flinched and backed up, not wanting a fight. She was too old for this.

“Look, look, look, we don’t want any trouble with you lions. Not anymore. I’ll find my boy myself!”

“Her ‘boy’…?” Vitani muttered in thought, realizing the implied personal, familial connection. She perked up, calling to Shenzi.

“Wait. Try the Outlands. He’s Prime Minister Jasiri’s enforcer. If you see any Outlander, ask for her.”

“Prime Minister Jasiri?” Shenzi turned to the boys, who shared a confused look. Shenzi slowly turned to the Lion Guard Leader with a sheepish expression.

“...Thank you…” 

It had been years since she’d been thankful to a lion. Vitani gave a short, polite nod in response. Shenzi headed in the direction of the Outlands, a path she knew like the back of her paw.

Vitani and the Guard remained in their positions to carefully watch the hyenas until they became specks fading into the hazy summer air. The lionesses turned and marched towards Pride Rock as their mission ended.

……

The trio took in the unfamiliar scenery of the Outlands. Grass and flowers were beginning to grow, animals actually wanted to live there, and even the Elephant Graveyard, their old home, was looking good for itself. Shenzi found herself tearing up a bit. She never would’ve thought she’d see the Outlands in such a way.

Shenzi eventually did as she was told by Vitani, she asked a vulture by the name of Mzingo for directions, and he gleefully led them towards the entrance of Jasiri’s cave, which towered a series of caves that climbed up the walls of the canyon. The residence of the Hyena Resistance.

“Er, Prime Minister!” the vulture called from the entrance, “I don’t mean to disturb you during a time where you need much rest and time to yourself, but I have Visitors who have come to the Outlands for your guidance.”

Jasiri turned to the vulture. She glanced at the older hyenas and smiled warmly, knowing who they were from their features. 

“Bring them in.”

As Mzingo flew away to give the hyenas privacy, to the right of the inside of the cave, a hyena stood facing the wall, listening to Jasiri and Mzingo’s exchange. He heard a voice call him.

“Janja…?”

The hyena in question perked up, and slowly turned around. It couldn’t be… it was. His mother, father, and ‘uncle’ were standing at the mouth of the cave. They had hope in their eyes.

“...Ma?”

Janja’s heart sank. He couldn’t believe it, his family had come back after all this time, looking for him. However, a picture of the last interaction he had with his mother flashed in his mind. He pouted and whipped his head to the side, looking away from them.

“Why are you here…?” he grumbled.

Everyone frowned, including Jasiri. Shenzi stepped closer, figuring what Janja must be going through.

“Janja… You have no idea how sorry I am.” Shenzi teared up, “I shouldn’t have driven you away. I thought you could very well have been dead all this time…”

“Huh…?” Janja tilted his head, confused at his mother’s sorrowful voice.

“Mijo, your mother and I want you to come home and be our successor one day, we miss you.” Banzai said softly, putting a paw on Shenzi’s own paw.

Janja’s eyes were big, “What?! No way!”

Banzai glared incredulously, “Janj- !”

“I’ll handle this.” Shenzi interrupted, “Banzai, Ed, Prime Minister-”

“Just ‘Jasiri’, if you’d like.”

“Yeah,” Shenzi said a tad curtly, “can Janja and I talk in private? I think a heart-to-heart needs to be had.”

Jasiri guided the two to a quiet part of the cave. She and the rest of the group then gave the two their space.

……

“Ma, I don’t wanna leave!” Janja begged his mother, “Everything’s great here!”

“I know it might be hard for you to want to come back, I was harsh on you. We were all harsh on you… On all of you…” Shenzi glanced away in shame, “Because of me…”

“What…?” Janja’s ears perked up.

“Janja, ever since we took off from the Pridelands, I realized how much I’d been letting myself get herded around by Scar. I was slacking, not taking my job as leader seriously. All I did was submit to his power over the clan because he toyed with my intelligence.” 

Janja’s eyes widened, she said the very name she once refused to hear. He then glanced down, thinking about how much he’d gone through the same exact thing with Scar’s ghost, but that was going to be a hard one to explain. Shenzi continued.

“Once I broke free from Scar’s constant lies and games, I’d been pushing myself to lead the clan as I was always meant to. Just as my mother taught me, and how her mother taught her.” she sighed, “I let myself get carried away with tradition, and I had you and the other boys be treated unfairly. I lost sight of all the people I was hurting in the end.”

Shenzi placed a paw under Janja’s chin, caressing it. She observed how much bigger and angular his face had gotten. He had little whiskers on his chin like his father.

“I want you to be a better clan leader than I ever was, Janja.” Shenzi concluded.

Janja looked into his mother’s eyes. She had prominent eye bags, her face was heavier and a tad wrinkled in some places. Her signature spiky mane had a grayish twinge. It had been so long.

“I already got to be a clan leader, Ma.” Janja finally spoke up, “I learned so much. All I was going for was greed, until I was introduced to something better. Jasiri made me realize the meaning of the Circle of Life, and I realized now how much I preferred that life of balance and patience over fighting for my way through things and asking for nothing but trouble. I guess in the end I did learn to become a good leader, but through a couple of bad ideas, heh.”

Shenzi chuckled along with Janja, pulling him in for a hug. “You learned faster than I ever could, and I’m so proud of you for that. You’ve always been clever, Janja”

They pulled in even tighter, eyes squeezing out tears as their smiles became wider and warmer. Janja was so glad his mother was happy for him.

……

“So, you’re not coming home?” Shenzi asked, walking into the main part of the cave.

“Jasiri’s gotta have her leader of her enforcers,” Janja said, glancing back at Jasiri, who was slowly entering said main cave. Banzai and Ed respectfully followed her in.

“And… someone’s gotta be there for our little one along the way…” Janja smiled.

Shenzi gasped, looking over to the approaching Jasiri. Mouth agape. Her boy was going to be a father!

…She was going to be a grandma!

“Okay, you don’t have to come home for good, but you are still so coming home for visits so I can see my little grandbabies.”

Everyone broke into a cackle at Shenzi’s humored request.

The End.

[anarcoqueer1994]

4th of July, 1932

It was Steve's 14th birthday, not that anyone would remember, not when he shared a birthday with America's number one day to blow up things. Sarah even had to work today, regretfully telling him they would have a little birthday dinner tomorrow. She gives him a plate of deviled eggs to bring down. He doesn't give her trouble, he knows his ma has to work any shift she could get to support them. He'd bring in a little doing free lance drawing in the park, but not nearly enough.

Anyhow, the neighborhood was having a block party for the holiday, so he decided to go down and enjoy, knowing Bucky would be there. In fact, when he opened his door to head out, Bucky was already on his steps waiting for him.

"Happy Birthday, Stevie!" Bucky smiles at him before pulling him into a big hug, carefully maneuvering as to not drop the eggs. Usually this would be fine, he and Bucky hugged all the time. But Bucky turned fifteen a few months back and had had that growth spurt, putting him almost 8 inches taller than his friend. That's when Steve started to realize that he may like Bucky more than a friend, spending countless nights praying to God to fix him, to make that feeling go away.

But when Bucky hugged him, all those feelings flooded back in as usual, prayer not working. He wanted to pull away, remind Bucky that guys their age aren't supposed to be that affectionate with each other(at least that's what Mr. Barnes had said), but he didn't. He just leaned into it for as long as Bucky wanted.

When the hug finally did break, Bucky was beaming at his friend. "So ready to get down there? Mrs. Horvat made hot dogs, and I don't trust there to be too many for long."

The golden haired boy couldn't help but smile back drawn in by warmth radiating from his best friend. "Sure thing, Buck. I'm ready." Bucky throws his arm around his shoulder as they walk down together.

When they get to the festivities, Steve drops his plate off at a big table(actually crates with some old boards laid across them) on the side walk. They walk around, enjoying the day, gorging themselves on food. Steve notices that Bucky's arm barely leaves his shoulder the entire day. The increased height difference though, made him more conscious of it. It felt like Bucky was pulling him, closer than usual. But he couldn't find it in him to complain.

Unfortunately, Steve isn't the only one who noticed how close the boys are. Walking past a group of women, some being mom's of a lot of the guys they had gone to school with(both having dropped out to help their parents back home, who needed more than an 8th grade education anyways?) Steve heard one whisper to another "Do you think their mothers know?" The other replies "Seriously, boys that age shouldn't be so cozy..."

Steve could feel his cheeks going pink, self conscious as they keep walking. He pulls away from Bucky. Bucky for his part looks...sad, like Steve had hurt him by suddenly pulling away. He has been wrapped up in telling Steve about some pulp novel he had swiped the other day and was reading, he hadn't heard the comments.

"What is it, Stevie? Are you okay?" Worry coats Bucky's features.

"Uh...yeah Buck, just um...guys out age can't act like that, don't, um want anyone to think we are pansy's." Steve tries not to look hurt by his own words but is impossible when Bucky looks like he just got kicked in the stomach.

But he recovers, flashing a fake smile to his friend. "Yea...I guess you're right, Steve."

Steve decides to leave it at that even though he's known Bucky long enough to know his friend's feelings are hurt. They continue to walk the streets, conscious not to touch each other. Unfortunately this isn't enough for some of their ex-classmates.

A group of them sat on some front porch steps of a brownstone. There were a couple of guys and few dames, all who had been in school with the two boys. As they walked by, a boy, Danny Vesely, whispered something into a pretty little redhead's, Mary Anne Smith, ear, pointing at Steve and then to Bucky. Steve knows he should keep his mouth shut, but when he pointed at Bucky, it became personal. But before he can say something, Bucky is already in action. He had seen them point at Steve.

"What's so funny, Danny?" He snaps at the boy making the comment.

"Nothing Barnes, just commenting how cute you and your best girl look."

Steve turns red, looking at the ground. Steve knew he didn't look as strong or manly as other boys his age, his ma assuring him he was just a late bloomer. That didn't make it feel any better when he would be called a girl.

He can feel heat radiating of his friend, anger surging through him. Steve may be embarrassed but he looks up again, ready to back his friend up if their is a fight, putting on a tough face.

Bucky shoots back "You better shut your ugly mug!" Bucky looks ready to kill, hating that Danny is trying to humiliate him.... humiliate Steve.

"Calm down, Barnes. It's nice that you are defending you girlfriend's honor and all but you are being a little dramatic." Danny smirks. "I guess my big brother was right, all you guys who are light in the loafers are so dramatic."

Mary Anne and few of the other kids sitting there chime in in a sing-songy voice. "Bucky and Steve sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

Now Bucky is red as the girls start to giggle. Bucky knows he can't hit girls, but Danny and the three other boys laughing are fair game. He steps closer and before Danny can react, his fist makes contact with Danny's nose, causing it to bleed. One of his friends steps up to retaliate, but Steve steps between him and Bucky and by some grace of god actually lands a pretty hard punch in the face. But Bucky sees this and knows that the two other guys will soon be coming to back up their friends. He understands they will be out numbered and refuses to let Steve get hurt.

Without out thinking, he grabs Steve's hand, pulling him away from the group. They run until the others stop chasing them, hiding in an alley, and then...Steve laughs. The adrenaline of the fight and running away from guys together, felt good. Honestly doing anything with Bucky felt good. He feels silly for pulling away from Bucky earlier. Bucky smiles, because of course he does. Those mean words didn't mean anything, really, as long as his Steve was happy and smiling.

Darkness is starting to fall, and the fireworks show over the water was supposed to start soon. As they stood in the alley, still holding hands, Bucky spots a fire escape ladder. "Hey Stevie?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?" Bucky asks plainly.

"Don't be stupid, Buck. Of course I trust you, punk." Steve replies like it is the most obvious thing in the world. Steve can't think of a single person he has ever trusted more than his best friend from preactically the day he was born. Their mother's had been friends and Bucky, who was a who was a whole 16 months older, wanted to hold "the baby" all the time. It was "his baby," Of course not realizing he was a baby himself, but as he got older, he never stopped wanting to hold "his baby," even if Steve was too dense to realize that.

Bucky drags him to the fire escape. "Follow me,Jerk." He smiles and of course Steve does follow him, They make it the top, until they are on tha roof. "What are we doing up here?" Steve questions.

"Watching the fireworks." Bucky replies simply with a smile that Steve can't help but mirror back. Bucky hesitantly takes Steve's hand again, and when Steve doesn't pull away, he laces his fingers with his friends, taking him to a spot on the roof that seemed clean enough to sit.

They wait for the fireworks, and when they finally start, Steve can only focus on Bucky and the way his face lights ups as the colors explode in the sky. He isn't sure what compels him to do this, but he rests his head on Bucky's shoulder. He feels the brunette tense for a moment, before he wraps his arm around Steve's shoulder.

He whispers softly "Hey Stevie?"

"Yea?" Steve's voice equally as quiet.

"Did you know that these fireworks aren't for the Fourth of July? Who cares about a dusty old country anyways? They are for you to celebrate the birthday of the best fella in the world." Bucky says in a matter-of-fact manner, you would be forgiven for thinking he actually believes this.

But he has been saying this to Steve every year since he learned to talk, so Steve was expecting this. It still didn't change the way Steve ended up blushing, this year feeling like there was more weight behind his words. "Thanks, Buck..."

"Don't thank me, it's true." Bucky insists before continuing. "One more question, Stevie."

"Shoot." Steve responds, head still firmly planted on Bucky's shoulder.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Bucky asks plainly, but Steve could feel Bucky's hand lazily stroking his shoulder.

Steve takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He know what he wants...and he figured after the events of today, he could ask. If Bucky is repulsed, he can play it off like a joke. In a voice almost too small to be audible, Steve answers "A kiss..."

Bucky's hand stills on Steve's shoulder before pulling away. Steve begins to panic, lifting his head off of Bucky's shoulder. He starts to make up a lie in his head, to brush this off, and never talk about it again. But when he looks up at Bucky, he had adjusted so he was sitting in front of Steve now, smiling. He softly replies "Okay." And Steve feels like his heart will beat right out of his chest and fly away. He wonders if Bucky would catch it for him.

His hands go clammy as he is watching Bucky lean in, slowly, almost too slowly. Steve closes his eyes, nervously leaning to meet Bucky, and their lips connect and it's better than the fireworks going off around them. It's chaste, and awkward, the awkwardness of a first kiss for both of them but unbelievably sweet.

When they pull away, both are smiling contently. Bucky takes his place back next to Steve, wrapping both arms around him now, threatening to never let him go. As they watch the rest of the show, he says "Happy Birthday, Stevie."

[aces-to-apples]

Written for Day 5: Fluff of Codywan Week 2020 @codywanweek

Here on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Category: Multi Relationship: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567 | Rex, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker Additional Tags: Background Padmé Amidala/CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker, Implied/Referenced Future Rexsoka, GFY

For best results please look at this Rex and this Cody before reading.

��tribute”

Another one of the local little chompers marched towards the dais with all the solemnity and determination of a verd’ika plucking their first set of whites off the assembly line. Cody met Rex’s eye and they both very carefully avoided grinning at the sight. Not only could it be bad for their relationship with said locals, it wouldn’t do to let their Jedi think they were, in fact, having a good time up there.

When the kid came to a halt a ‘respectful’ distance away, Cody nodded for them to approach and bent his head to receive the kid’s blessing and subsequent gift. He watched Rex do the same.

The celebration had been going for hours, by that point, and they’d amassed a pile of shiny little wearable trinkets to give any sovereign of Naboo a run for their credits and enough blessings to make them holier than most deities. It’d been a relief, at the start of the night, to hear that—aside from the ceremonial outfits they’d been bullied into wearing—he and Rex were free to redistribute the gifts as they saw fit. Something about sharing luck, or good vibes, or what have you.

Said ceremonial outfits, on the other hand, they were obliged to keep and maintain with honor.

Obi-Wan had smoothed over any offense they’d given with their lacklustre reaction to the news but Rex’s general had been less than subtle in his delight at their new possessions. Tano, at least, had just told them they looked nice and kept her own mocking to a bare minimum.

And it wasn’t that they were grateful, Cody had reflected at the start of the celebration, when he and Rex had stepped out under the light of the moons to deafening cheers, but. It wasn’t quite their style, no matter how well the two of them pulled off the intricate, and admittedly beautiful, get-ups.

Rex, by dint of his Torrent paintjob, had been immediately deemed the locals’ Goddess of War come again and draped accordingly in layers of blue fabric. Some of it was dark and blaster-resistant and some of it pale and so sheer as to be almost nonexistent. Bands of silver, often studded with precious blue stones, were wrapped around his wrists, forearms, biceps, and throat, and a silver cap affixed with yet more jewels and a pale blue veil had been placed on his head with much reverence.

After a great deal of muttered debate, they determined that Cody must be their war deity’s twin, the Goddess of Beauty. Not an insult by any means…

The traditional garb he’d been presented with, by contrast, was deep red with a long flowing cape and headdress of heavy twisted fabric. It came with its own set of jewelry, as well, shining gold and polished red stones, bulky and eye-catching around his wrists and throat and slim and delicate around his forearms and biceps. Something about the placement was culturally significant, but hells if Cody was going to ask what.

They’d already lost the battle against: 1) staying for several days to rest and recuperate, 2) accepting the titles of living incarnations of their local deities and all the celebration that entailed, and 3) keeping both the get-ups and the gifts for themselves.

No way was Cody going to invite more conversation about their cultural practices. He could win against droids and bounty-hunters and half-baked Sith, but apparently, he couldn’t convince a bunch of over-awed, Mid Rim locals that he and Rex weren’t tools of War and Beauty.

Tools of the Republic, sure, but nothing divine.

The leader of the city they’d liberated had just smiled gently and reassured them that belief on their part was not necessary, only acceptance of their gratitude. Which came with lots of shiny metal, sparkly rocks, and a pair of gowns that they had to either accept or throw into a sacrificial fire and publicly reject.

Obi-Wan had stepped in at that point.

He’d assured everyone that they had no interest in disrespecting their culture and asked for a debrief about the ceremony.

Wear the outfits, sit on the thrones, and let people fawn over them at least a little bit, had basically been the long and short of it. But, hey, they were comfortably cushioned, well-fed, and kept hydrated throughout the whole thing, so it could have been worse. Sharp-toothed little ankle-biters shyly kissing their foreheads and handing them shiny bits and bobs before scampering off weren’t much of a hardship.

“How’re you fellas doing?” Skywalker asked, strolling up to the dais with a grin that had yet to falter all night. “Getting into the spirit of the thing? Really feeling the divinity flow through you?”

Plenty vode had wandered over to check on them over the course of the night, mostly to heckle, but the Jedi had visited just as frequently. And for similar reasons, too.

The way Rex’s general had been eyeing him all night, Cody was almost worried for Rex’s safety. He’d heard plenty of complaints from Obi-Wan about Skywalker’s willingness to eat damn near anything; who was to say that he hadn’t acquired a taste for Mandalorian-adjacent flesh and wouldn’t gobble poor Rex up in just a few bites.

He was pretty sure Commander Tano was having some kind of intermittent crisis over at their table as well.

It was his responsibility, as both Marshal Commander and ori’vod, to bring his concerns to his superior officer and then ruthlessly mock all three of them. After Skywalker eventually got tired of making Rex blush and wandered away whistling a jaunty tune to a very raunchy cantina song, that was.

“So does that ‘angel’ of his know the two of you have started sharing blankets since your last stop-over on Coruscant or should I start planning your funeral now?” Cody said archly, watching his vod’ika visibly consider punching him. “I’ll be sure to wear this and lie about how smart and good-looking you are, like a proper vod.”

Rex pressed a hand over his eyes and groaned. “Angel knows,” he admitted, darting an unsubtle glance at his general’s shebs. “What I am afraid of, though, is that next time we stop over on Coruscant she’s gonna have a whole new wardrobe just like this one and it will just happen to be in my size.”

“Well, hey, get a full-coverage veil and you’re probably good to step out with them,” Cody said with false sympathy, gleefully imagining the uproar that would cause. “Just make sure they’re made out of that fabric that’s designed to ruin holos. Pakod.”

The ol’ boy made a sound like a malfunctioning mouse-droid.

“Is it too much to believe that I’d like to spend whatever leave I get wearing as few clothes as possible?” he wailed, quietly, with a desperation that made Cody think this was an argument he and the senator had gotten into before. With this revelation in mind, he snapped a few holos of his own while Rex was distracted and vowed to get them to the senator if Skywalker’s brain cell was too lonely to manage it. “Isn’t it enough that I have this already?”

“Oh, dear me,” a low voice said from behind Cody’s left ear, “I can’t imagine how terrible it must be to have two attractive, attentive lovers who wish to shower you with tokens of their affection. Truly, Captain, your misery must be exquisite.”

Cody turned his head to press a sloppy kiss to Obi-Wan’s cheek in gratitude for the pitiful sound his words had drawn out of his favorite brother.

“General,” Rex whined pathetically, “they keep getting me plants. Alive ones, dead ones, prickly ones, poisonous ones. My quarters are being taken over by non-sentient invaders.”

Obi-Wan made a little noise of patently fake sympathy. “My old master’s quarters were like that as well,” he commiserated, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin behind Cody’s ear. The noise of the locals around them changed in pitch, but Cody’d had enough to drink over the course of the evening to not feel worried by the change. If he was lucky, Obi-Wan would be shoved into a pretty outfit like this next. “It drove me mad that he never formally answered, let alone turned down, any of the suits. Just let the poor, smitten beings keep sending him gifts. So uncivilized.”

“Speaking of uncivilized,” Cody said, wondering if he could get away with pulling Obi-Wan down onto his lap.

Rex rolled his eyes. “If I don’t get to canoodle in public with my Jedi then you don’t get to with yours,” he huffed, leaning over to push Obi-Wan a few inches away. “Leave room for the Force, sirs.”

“‘Leave room for the Force’?” Obi-Wan repeated, nonplussed, while Cody found himself hung up on, “Canoodle?”

No longer quite so flustered, Rex shrugged. “Skywalker talks like a scandalized opera singer, sometimes, and Ahsoka says that when she catches the lads giving each other a tune-up. How’s the kid doing, by the way?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan said ruefully, “she’s seventeen and in the middle of a war and puberty. Thus far, I believe she’s coped by placing you all in the ‘dear friends and family whom deserve her utmost respect’ category of her mind, rather than allowing herself to see you as attractive young men. Tonight seems to be causing some kind of breakdown in that line of thinking.”

Cody turned to give Rex his full attention and clapped him on the shoulder. “Cheers, vod’ika, keep it up and you might have a full set soon!”

In response, Rex covered his face with both hands and groaned again.

“Remind me to send the good captain some appropriate literature about age of consent laws, would you, dear?” Obi-Wan murmured into his ear. He most assuredly was not leaving room for the Force between them. “Until then, I believe you mentioned being uncivilized?”

Cody made a mental note to remind him as requested before standing up, bowing at the local assembly, and following Obi-Wan wherever he led.

[subakuryu]

Heyo

First post here on tumblr, so I s'pose an introduction is an order. The name's Suba! I'm a fella who's restarting a journey into art in his late 20s because of the sudden passing of an artist by the name of @yark-wark @teamprototype here on Tumblr recently.

I was a serious consumer of their art for over a decade, and had only just begun developing an appreciation for who they were as a person the past couple years and months leading up to their death.

As such, a need to preserve their memory and inspiration within my own power pushes me to scribble in their honor. And hopefully... I will inspire others and make them happy just the same way they did for me and many others whom grieve so deeply as I did and still do.

___________

Below are my attempts to figure out how to draw one of my favorite character's of Yark's, Phineas. A "shkeel" which is an original alien race from their Team Prototype universe. On the 1st page, you can see I started with emulating eyes. Then when I managed a pair I liked, I tried to fill in the rest of Phineas which took over most of the page.

Next, after not feeling comfy with how I drew Phineas's left arm, I tried practicing drawing them en masse including his right mechanical arm. As well as bonus trying to draw his face from memory. Yuck...

Next I tried getting a feel for the shkeel's whole body and some attempts on getting his face / expressions somewhat. I'm kinda proud of the overall chest up of the middle scribble as well as the from-behind angle on the top right corner. I.... currently do not like having to deal with Phineas's artificial legs. Their shape and angling them to look like their actually supporting his weight will require my patience some other time. ^^;;

And finally for the end of this post... The next page is not Yark's characters. Well sorta? The two individuals depicted in pencil this time is @hunterbahamut 's Gene and Lan who are featured in many of his own Team Prototype AU stories which had gotten Yark's heart of approval on multiple, if not all, occasions. I had recently read his 'The Ribbon' which featured a scene with the two characters depicted below, this time in pencil because I wanted to try really hard on making it, at the very least, marginally presentable. Honestly having drawn them both, they're actually really fun designs to draw. At some point I'd like to try my hand at them again! I'm pretty proud that it turned out so well considering I haven't tried drawing seriously in YEARS.

Looking at it now... My main dislike from anything below is that I should shift Gene's anatomical right ear further to the side of his head on the top left pencil drawing. And I wish maybe I drew more of Lan's body on the bottom right. Got impatient so, eh... Little by little.

Thank you for taking the time to follow me through my process and feelings with these stepping stones back into the art world. I would appreciate any helpful constructive critique.

I already have more scribbles that I need to make a post about, but I wanted to make sure that this is a proper chronological archive of how far I'll have gotten since restarting.

RIP Yark. We miss you, and I hope to respectfully share you with others for a long, long while.

Take care, everyone, n see y'all next post!

[ace-of-games]

for the Critter asks: 21, 22, 44, & 45?

Aaaaaah I didn’t expect anyone would actually ask me! This is my first time, so thank you! :D And forgive me, as I'm terrible at picking a single favorite in most categories of life, and this got really long (oops).

21. Who's your favorite CR1 PC?

They’re all so interesting in their own ways, but I think I’d have to go with either Keyleth or Vax’ildan. Keyleth is so kindhearted and just doing her best, and she comes up with such creative things to do with her spells and beast shapes! (I haven’t gotten to the “Keyfish” moment yet, but I’m looking forward to seeing exactly how that hilarity plays out.) And Vax, while very cool with both his look and his “dagger dagger dagger” move, more importantly brings strong emotional moments to the table—the sadboi times and the sweet/playful times. He's a prankster, but I just love how deeply he loves, you know? Also, honorable mention goes to Scanlan, I think. Similarly to Vax, he brings both the laughs and the tears. I don't know if I'll ever be ready to have my heart ripped out when he addresses his past.

22. Who's your favorite CR2 PC?

This question is EVEN HARDER than the last one! I'm pretty sure each one of them has been my favorite at one time or another. Caleb was an early favorite, as I'm drawn to fellow nerds. Jester soon followed as I realized the universal truth that everyone, everywhere, is a little in love with Jester Lavorre. (Sweetheart? Check. Playful? Check. Stronk? Check. Artistic? Check. Hilarious? Check. Just the best? Big ol' check.) Also, I didn't care for Beau much at first, but wow is she amazing. She's “just a regular human” traipsing around saving the world alongside all these magic folks, and she completely holds her own (and, honestly, grounds the others). She's quick, snide, insightful, and overall brilliant. Mr. Arizona Tea certainly grabbed my attention for a while when he first appeared, with his pastel goth aesthetic and attitude. He's got a fascinating view on the world, and he has been a boon that the rest of the Nein desperately needed (although, he can't always play that role and we're starting to see him loosening the “capable wise mentor” mask he wears over his boyish nature, which is cool). The others have all stolen the spotlight and my heart whenever the adventure has focused more on their respective issues: vulnerable Fjord, remorseful Yasha, wavering Nott/Veth, and of course, “leave every place better than you found it” Molly. So I guess overall, first place goes to Jester, then the Empire Siblings + Caduceus, then everyone else. I just adore them all.

44. What's your favorite CR one-shot or miniseries (Honey Heist, Cinderbrush, etc.)?

I looked back at the list of one-shots, and as it turns out, I haven't actually seen very many yet. However, I can say that I fully enjoyed the chaos of Crash Pandas, the school-but-magic vibes of Cinderbrush and Club of Misfits, and all the puns and glory of the Honey Heist series (probably my very favorite).

45. What's your favorite non-campaign CR content (All Work No Play, Handbooker Helper, etc.)?

All Work No Play, hands down. It's like a Game Grumps 10 Minute Power Hour, but longer and more personal and even more sickly sweet in its wholesomeness! I just want these fellas to cherish the fun and friendship they get to share. And they do! It's wonderful. (Honorable mention to Between the Sheets, as I have learned so much about them all and am grateful for its existence. Brian is an excellent host.)

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Al and Linda Lerner on Movies and Shakers: The Irishman

The contrast in the acting styles of Pacino, De Niro and Pesci are predictable, yet gripping in this mob drama. Director Martin Scorsese is in his element directing this finely tuned 3 and a half hour crime story. Even at this bloated length, it didn’t become belabored until the last hour. The film starts with an impressive long follow shot through the corridors of a nursing home introducing us to the aged Frank Sheeran and proceeds as a series of flashbacks. It’s all about power, politics of the Mob and the Teamsters Union in the ’50’s to the ’70’s. 

Pacino’s Hoffa is completely over the top, screaming, fuming, and fully engaged in rage. Compare that to Pesci and De Niro who rarely raise their voices. They know how to keep their emotions in check, yet they are seething under the surface. It’s great to see Pesci back after a 9-year hiatus. Pesci’s almost whispered instructions to carry out life and death orders are more than disconcerting. De Niro’s face is mostly a blank page until he has to kill the one man he cares most about. Seeing that pain etched on his face was the most touching moment in the film. 

The film is historical fiction. It takes poetic license adapting the biography of hit man, Frank Sheeran (De Niro), in I Heard You Paint Houses, by Charles Brandt. The title is a euphemism for being a killer. Sheerhan admits stealing, lying and cheating to gain the trust and then friendship of Teamsters Union Head, Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino). And then confessed to killing him. Sheeran lived by the code the Don, Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci) set to wield great power and protect his territory. The Teamsters had immense power over the trucking industry and their pension fund was the golden egg the Mob was after.   

This is the most expensive film Scorsese has made to date, costing over $200 million. The cost ballooned paying for all of the special effects used to de-age his stars to look 30 years younger for most of the film. Was it worth it? For the overall effect, yes. But, in the beginning of the film, the stars as their younger characters look kind of cheesy. The special effects get better as they story progresses through the years. 

The film is a treatise that is detailed to the max. The cars are vintage snazzy, the clothes are polyester pastels, and the restaurants where they eat incessantly are elegant old Italian with red leather booths where the mobsters were waited on hand and foot. 

Scorsese and writer Steve Zaillian (American Gangster, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Schindler’s List) give the actors the phrases and pauses that make their interaction all that more measured and believable. There is minimal dialogue when Russell, Frank and Hoffa talk to each other.  Gestures, furrowed eyebrows and head pointing are a signal for what these bosses want done.  Most of the shots are static medium or close-ups of people talking to each other. Scorsese borrows some of the classic techniques of other gangster movies, including newspaper headlines and captions over still frames of mobsters as they get bumped off. 

That’s also noticeable when Frank, Russell and their wives are taking a car trip to Detroit, following a route drawn on a map to stop for collections along the way. The wives in the back seat only seem to talk when they want to stop for a smoke or a bathroom break. Women are always take a back seat with these guys in this film.

The Teamsters had a lot of power and were every bit as corrupt and in bed with the mob. They were definitely violent, but not particularly bloody in the way they got rid of those who didn’t go along with their program. It was clean murder, in a way. Their MO was usually shooting someone in the head at close range, then throwing the weapon away. In the scene where Frank throws the gun in the river after a hit, he says there are enough guns down there to arm a small country, which got a laugh. 

Sheeran climbs up the ladder ingratiating himself first to Gangland Royalty Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci) and then to Hoffa who was mad with power. Pacino talks tough and acts tough, even though he is quite a bit shorter and less imposing a figure than real Teamster boss Hoffa. Scorsese tries to make him human showing how he doted over one of Sheeran’s daughters, Peggy (Anna Paquin). She hated her own father. Peggy saw him for what he was. Hoffa was nicer to her frequently taking her for ice cream. Seeing Pacino as Hoffa go crazy for ice cream lightens things up periodically. 

But Scorsese really showcases the power of these men in big scenes with a cast of thousands at a meeting of the Teamsters. There, Pacino, takes the reins and in a smoky grand ballroom surrounded by his faithful followers. And he does it again at a tense dinner to honor Frank in another display of power. Frank has now become a President of a Teamsters local. When Hoffa went to prison for 4 years his former “friends” pushed him aside and got cozy with the Mob. They had no use for Hoffa who wanted to take back control of the pension fund. Jimmy never stopped plotting his comeback to regain control of the Teamsters. 

Scorsese uses the historical backdrop of the times, including the influence peddling of Joe Kennedy,crime busting Attorney General Bobby Kennedy, the assassination of JFK, and the Bay of Pigs fiasco that affected the Teamsters and the Mob. 

To this day, Hoffa’s body has not been found. But Scorsese creates chilling scenes showing Frank torn between his allegiance to Bufalino or Hoffa being forced to kill him and how the body disappeared without a trace. 

Scorsese scores big putting three of the biggest known actors together in a lavishly produced crime drama that will stand alongside Good Fellas and Casino. This will also become another Scorsese crime classic where De Niro, Pesci and Pacino each get their own space to show their own unique brand. Don’t take this as a history lesson. It’s Frank’s take on what happened to Hoffa. Scorsese and his cast created a helluva movie, whether it’s true or not. 

 Netflix          3 hours 29 minutes               R

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[marvel-mistress-padawan]

Camelot California

Chapter One </> For many a petty king ere Arthur came

Ruled in this isle, and ever waging war

Each upon other, wasted all the land;

And still from time to time the heathen host

Swarmed overseas, and harried what was left.

And so there grew great tracts of wilderness,

Wherein the beast was ever more and more,

But man was less and less, till Arthur came.

-Alfred Tennyson <i/>

The sheriff’s badge gleamed in the sunlight as Arthur Boone stepped out onto the silent street. A warm wind blew across the empty road kicking up dust and a tumbleweed in the eerie stillness. Arthur’s boots thudded down the steps loudly in the relative quiet. He stopped in the center of the street, rifle held to his shoulder and ready. The curtains were drawn in all the windows. Two wagons were overturned further down the street as a barricade. Arthur wasn’t fooled by the serenity of the moment. He had three rounds in his gun and four men left to kill. There was only one way this could end. With a lot of blood and a few dead men.

Arthur had been drawing their fire long enough to know that the wagon on the left side of the street had two men behind it and one of those men was out of ammunition. The wagon on the right hid two men and both of them still had plenty of bullets left. His real advantage was that all the men of the Bartlett gang were terrible shots. They liked to make a lot of noise and waste a lot of bullets. It was how they kept people afraid of them, riding around like wild men whooping and yelling and shooting up the place wherever they robbed. At this distance though he could hit them sooner than they could hit him. If he played his cards right he could still save this town. All it would take was a good aim, a sharp bayonet, and a little faith.

He strode a few steps further down the all but deserted street and a shot rang off, skimming over his head by several inches. This was close enough. A second shot sounded off and hit near his boot on the dusty ground. A third shot landed somewhere far off and not any place near him at all. That’s good. Keep ‘em coming boys. Use up as many shots as you can while your target is still too far off. Arthur supposed that he should have been afraid. Most men would be. Fear wasn’t something that he was aware of very often. It was a useless emotion that did nothing but shut people down and make them ineffective and boring. He hated cowards. If it were time for him to die he might as well accept it and so should everyone else when it was their time. If it wasn’t his time to die, well then, he reckoned there was nothing to be afraid of.

“You ‘bout done hiding and ready come out and face me like men, or not?” he called out.

The street fell silent again as the outlaws conferred amongst themselves about what to do next. There were only a few options open to them. They could do the honorable thing and try to take him in a duel, one by one. It was unlikely they would chose that path but if they did he knew he was a better shot than any of them. Or they might try and make a run for it but with one of their people out of ammo it seemed like a risk that they would not take. No, they would all three come out shooting together and when they did he would need to be ready. He was well prepared for what he knew would come next. Ned was the younger and more impulsive of the Bartlett brothers. He would be the first to come out, guns blazing and not even bothering to take aim. He would be easy to take care of. Ned’s cousin Stan was a man in his thirties and would probably not stand up until Ned was down. Once Ned was down,  Stan would be emotional and that emotion would work to Arthur’s advantage. Garret and Fred were at the wagon to the left and since one of them was unarmed, if they were smart they would wait for Ned and Stan before making a stand. Arthur was counting on them not being too smart.

Arthur stood his ground in the center of the street and waited to see what his fate would be. Fred was the first to stand up from behind the barricade waving a white rag flag.This was not going to go down the way he had planned. Not in the slightest. Arthur took the shot without hesitation. Fred was wanted dead or alive. The white flag was probably a trick anyhow. Arthur’s aim was true as always and Fred fell back behind the wagon, blood pooling at his chest. With Fred down, this meant that Garrett would take his fallen friend’s gun. Arthur was outnumbered once again. It was no matter. Whatever was meant to go down would go down, no matter how many bullets he had or who had the numbers.

He heard a shout from Stan who came charging out from behind the wagon on the right, guns blazing. Arthur dove behind a watering trough before taking aim at the distraught gunman, Once again his aim was true and Stan fell down in the street. All that were left were Ned and Garrett and Arthur’s one round.

It was Ned who started shooting next. He fired from two guns as he made his way towards the trough Arthur had ducked behind. Perhaps it was rage driving Ned so recklessly close or perhaps Ned was counting on actually hitting his target in the end but none of the shots managed to hit Arthur. One of the rounds pierced through the watering trough and water began to drain out on the ground making a puddle at Arthur’s feet. He had expected the water wouldn’t hold in there forever and that had been the reason he had made an effort to draw their fire to this area in the first place. He had hoped it would drain a little sooner. The trough was still half full and Ned was only twenty feet away. It was now or never. Arthur moved his rifle to hang from the strap on his back and ducked down low enough to get a shoulder beneath the watering trough. He got to his feet and overturned the trough in one swift motion lifting it up with him as water spilled out onto the dusty street. Arthur didn’t wait for the water to settle. He shouldered the dripping trough and charged straight at Ned. He imagined that Ned Bartlett had never had anyone charge at him carrying a watering trough. Young Ned was too young to have fought in the war and had never seen a man charge into battle in all his life. A volley of bullets whizzed past Arthur and several rounds hit the wooden trough. The two clicks sounded telling Arthur that Ned was out of ammunition and with one last heft Arthur knocked Ned to the ground with the weight of the trough.

Arthur knew this moment was critical if he hoped to survive. Ned was on the ground out of ammunition but Garrett was still barricaded behind a wagon and now had a clear shot at him. Arthur put his bayonet to Ned’s neck and stood his ground, convinced that this was the only way. It took but a moment for Garret to expose himself and Arthur took the shot. Ned moved at his feet and Arthur reacted quickly by hitting him in the head with the butt of his rifle, silencing the empty street entirely.

He stayed where he was and waited for the townspeople to come out of their shops and houses. It took but a short time for the eyes peeking out between closed shutters and drawn curtains to see that the streets were safe once again. By the time Arthur had tied up Ned Bartlett, three men in suits were approaching Arthur alongside a group of common folks.

“Well, you’ve done it,” said the shortest and stoutest of the three. “We said it couldn’t be done and you’ve gone and taken down the Bartlett gang,” the man said with a big smile and a firm handshake. “I’m Mayor Howard Gustin. You seem to have single handedly saved our town a lot of trouble, stranger. You got a name?”

“Arthur. Arthur Boone,” he told them.

“What happened to the sheriff?” the taller of the three men asked, taking note of the sheriff’s badge that Arthur had pinned on himself.

“This is here is Tim Peterson,” Howard explained. “He owns the General Store over across the way.”

Tim was still waiting for Arthur to explain himself and looking none too pleased about it.

“Well, unfortunately your sheriff got taken down when them fellas first rode into town. They were shooting things up something awful down by the livery and I thought it was time someone did something about it. I meant no disrespect to your sheriff by taking his badge. I just wanted ‘em to see it was the law coming after ‘em and not some young tenderfoot.” Arthur explained carefully.

“That does make sense,” The third man in a fancy suit spoke up. He wore a little nameplate pinned to his suit that said Angus Dewitt Pacific Bank and so no introductions were needed. “It’s a lucky thing you were there and armed and experienced. You are experienced? You’re Captain Arthur Boone of the US Cavalry am I right?”

“That would be me,” Arthur admitted somewhat reluctantly. He took the sheriff’s badge from off his chest and handed it over to the mayor with a nod. “You’ll be wanting to find someone else to wear that,” he told them though he was almost sure it wasn’t true. These people were too worked up to let him leave so easily.

“Well now hold up a minute,” Tim spoke up. “The last time those Bartletts were in town they stole a lot of stuff from out of my store. Sheriff Williams was a good man but he never could stop them. Suppose some other gang of outlaws takes it into their heads to plunder this here town? Don’t you think we ought to have a Sheriff who can actually do something about it?”

Angus thought over Tim’s words a moment. “I’m in agreement with you Tim. This fella should stay on.”

“I don’t know…” Arthur began. He wasn’t opposed to staying but he couldn’t seem too eager if he hoped to get a good salary out of the deal. “I was heading east for a job with the railroad. Pays good.”

“How much does it pay?” Mayor Howard wanted to know. “We can offer you room and board and match what the railroad pays.”

Arthur took a an newspaper clipping from his pocket with an advertisement for the the railroad job. A big smile crept onto Howard’s face. “Yes, we can match this. We can beat this. Will you do it?”

Arthur scratched his head as he thought over the offer. “I could, if I could just make one request?”

“Anything. Well almost anything,” Howard said.

“It might seem a bit silly but my Mama named me Arthur after King Arthur. You know the stories with knights and the round table and the wizard Merlin and all that? Well if I’m gonna stay here and try and keep the peace in this here town, seems like it oughta be named Camelot.”

“Camelot huh?” Howard almost laughed. “That’s not a bad idea at all. I’m all for it. What about you fellas?” The other two men nodded their heads. “Looks like the town council has put it to a vote and you sir are the new sheriff of Camelot.”

“My thanks to you,” he said, then he reached for young Ned Bartlett who was just waking up and pulled the lad to his feet. “I assume you have a jail cell I can check this fellow into?”

“This way. This way,” Howard led the way to a building further up the street.

It was a small building with an office and two windows in the front, a couple of cells in the back, and a living space upstairs. Everything was dusty and there were stacks of papers lying about from the previous sheriff’s work.

“It’s not much. Not like the officers of the law have back east,” Howard was saying. “But you’ll have free food at the hotel dining room, paid for by the town and you’ll have a running tab at the General Store for new clothes whenever you need them.”

“It’ll do fine,” Arthur said as he brought his prisoner to the cell and locked the door with the key hanging on the wall. “Now if you gentlemen don’t mind I’d like to get to work getting this place tidied up.”

The townspeople left Arthur alone while he cleaned up the sheriff’s office, filing all the papers from the desk, arranging the furniture, and wiping away the dust. All the while Ned Bartlett glared at him.

“You got something to say, Kid?” Arthur asked him after a long period of silence.

“You shot down my brothers like they was nothing. Ain’t you at least gonna bury them?”

“What makes you think they were something?” Arthur said calmly in return.

“They was my brothers! They took care of me and fed after my Pa got shot. They taught me everything I know.”

Arthur crossed his arms with a sigh. “Then I’m afraid they taught you wrong, boy. All they taught you was robbery and drunkenness and murder because that is all they know.“

Ned made a face and it wasn’t clear if he were about to cry or curse. Arthur didn’t wait to find out. “What they should have taught you was honor and sobriety and chivalry. That’s what my Mama taught me was important. That’s what’s important for this town.”

Ned glared at him with a hatred he could hardly contain. “Honor? Like when Fred tried to surrender and you shot him anyhow? Where was your damned honor then?”

“You and I both know Fred had committed so many crimes he was past redemption,” Arthur said. There was no sense in arguing with this boy. Nothing would convince him of the truth.

“Yeah, and you and I both know something else too. I saw how Sheriff Williams died. It’s a lucky thing your new Mayor friend didn’t see it or you wouldn’t be wearing that badge.”

“Then when the mayor was here just now, why didn’t you just tell him whatever it was you think you saw?” Arthur asked unconcerned. “Maybe because you realize no one is going to take the word of an outlaw.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll still go to hell in the end just like I will,” Ned said through clenched teeth.

“Maybe, but you’ll go there first. Stay cozy in that there cell. I’ll be back for you after I’m done building the gallows,” Arthur said and he left his prisoner alone.

[sakuranights1]

A New Story

This is a story about two artists - one is an older man who was famous for his beautiful art before he sadly lost the ability to create, and the other is a young man who is still trying to find his balance and style in art and in life, all while dealing with difficult issues at home at the same time.

This is an idea I’ve had in my head for a while now. I’ve got some other plot points set up for it, but I’ve never had he courage to begin writing it until today. Today, we honor the life and ambitions of our dear Monty Oum by starting new or finishing projects that we’ve been wanting to work on for a long time.

Enjoy!

Of the many places that could be used for inspiration, 15-year-old Daniel chose the one place he disliked the most. For unconscious reasons more or less, or so he told himself. It was not the worst place to go when struck with the unquellable urge to create, but there was only one aspect of it that he found himself feeling disdainful towards.

In particular, it was that man.

From the very first time he arrived at the park, the man was there. As though he blended in perfectly with the scenery, the tall, brown-haired man was always present, just as the misaligned benches, the small fountain in the center, and the unevenly cut grass were. Sure, other people showed up in the park as well - ideally, it was a great place to relax and take in the fresh air, a great place to go when troubles at home were wearing you down.

But the man was still there.

Was he dangerous? No, Daniel didn’t seem to think so. Rather, he was overly critical, and gave his unwelcomed input at any given opportunity.

“Shift the perspective slightly to the left. It will look much better.”

“You call that a cloud? I could tell you how to properly draw one, if you want.”

“That character’s eyes are too close together. You… do know about proportions, right?”

Daniel, unsurprisingly, began to question his own sanity. It wasn't as though he took a trip to the park every day, but the man was always there no matter what. It was baffling, to say the least. His curiosity got the better of him one day, and he finally asked a question that had been plaguing him for the last 2 or 3 visits they’d had.

“Are you homeless or something?”

Daniel revelled in the fact that he’d finally been able to render the annoyance silent, shocked even. But the man regained his composure much too quickly for Daniel’s liking and straightened his lapels.

“Actually, I was ready to ask you the same thing.”

Daniel had half a mind to make him eat his words, and he could feel himself flushing, to his mortification.

“Y-you’ve got some nerve! I come here to draw in peace, but you waltz over like you own the place and start criticizing my art! Every. Single. Time! Who do you think you are?!” The man took a step back and bowed politely.

“Travis Storming, at your service. And you are?” he offered a pleasant grin.

“...Daniel Mata.”

Despite the clipped response, Travis’s smile never faltered, and he straightened to full height before extending his left hand.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mata.”

Daniel stared at the offer of peace warily before hesitantly reaching out with his own left hand, taking it. He was caught off-guard when Travis gave a firm shake, nearly rattling his whole body. He finally was able to wrench his hand out of the bizarre handshake, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting downwards to Travis's right hand - somewhat fresh scars still visible despite his long sleeves - which hung limply by his side. He considered questioning the man’s motives, but his mouth moved faster than his brain could formulate a proper question.

“So what are you, an art critic then?”

His new companion mused the question with a slight hum. He cocked his hip and held his chin with his left forefinger and thumb, thinking the question over pensively. Daniel, meanwhile, continued staring silently, and was ready to pack up his belongings and leave before Travis finally answered.

“Nope!”

“That’s… not the response  I was expecting, given our… ‘history’,” he replied.

“Well, I say no, but I guess I could be considered something of a critic. I was an artist myself, not too long ago!” He grinned and placed his hands on his hips. For whom Daniel speculated to be somewhere in his mid thirties or early forties, this guy seemed childlike in nature. Creepy.

“I guess… no, yeah, that does make sense. Still, your critiques are completely unprompted,” and unwanted, “so why do you keep doing it?” Travis took a moment to consider this question before sitting himself down on the bench next to Daniel.

“I believe it to be an unconscious decision, on my part. I’d been an artist for so long… when the gift was taken away from me, I couldn’t help but be immediately drawn-in whenever there was an artist around.” Daniel opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off when Travis snorted, trying to hold back his laughter. “‘Drawn-in’, get it?” A few small chuckles escaped him, and Daniel sat back in his seat with a sigh.

“You’re strange, you know that?”

“Well, being strange makes me interesting, don’t you think? I would rather be labelled as an oddity than to be labelled as ‘boring’.” He held up a finger, as though trying to get a point across. “‘Boring’, or ‘ordinary’, do you understand?”

“...I haven't the slightest clue,” Daniel finally admitted, and Travis’s smile fell into a slight frown.

“I’m talking about your art, Mr. Mata! Here, look,” He pointed to the open page on Daniel’s lap, where he had been in the middle of drawing a large robotic fish in the middle of an oil-ocean. “That is odd, strange... but NOT boring! It’s interesting and unique - though it’s a little too-forward facing, so try turning the fella more to an angle - but it’s one that people will surely remember, as compared to a plain self-portrait or yet another picture of the landscape.”

“And in saying so, you’re telling me that I’m going to remember you in particular? Of all the faces I see everyday?” Travis’s face lit up with a smile, then.

“You already remember me, don’t you?”

With that, Travis stood and walked a few paces forward before turning slightly to wave at Daniel over his shoulder.

“Well then. Same time tomorrow?”

Though irritated by the man at first, Daniel found his agitation slowly ebbing away, replaced with something more warm and comforting. He smiled a little and waved back.

“...Sure thing.”

Travis had been long gone before Daniel willed himself to look back down at his drawing. He took a kneaded eraser and erased the fish, only to redraw it again at a turned angle, so it instead faced away from the viewer instead of directly at them. He buried his face in his hands when he realized that Mr. Storming had been correct in his critique - it definitely looked better this way. Against his will, he found himself looking forward to tomorrow, hoping to learn more from him.

[bylagunabay]

Saint Michael’s Sword Prayer

In PLAGUE, WAR and SPIRITUAL COMBAT

In three instances, St. Michael powerfully intervened to stop a plague, save a soldier from imminent death, and assist a priest hasten the expulsion of a demon from a possessed lady through the use of his sword. But before reading this edifying accounts, let us first pray to St. Michael …

 ST. MICHAEL’S SWORD PRAYER

O Glorious Saint Michael the Archangel, to whom was given

the Sword by the Eternal Father of the celestial realm,

fight all spirit of ruin in our country, in our families,

in our minds and in our hearts.

 O Glorious Saint Michael wield your victorious Sword on our behalf

so that we may overcome all destructive spirits that seek to lead us

away from Sanctifying Grace, and lead us to final victory.

 Come Glorious St. Michael, flash your Sword with a ray from the Holy Spirit

so that we may be worthy of the promises of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

 PLAGUE IN ROME 600 AD

During a plague which greatly depopulated the city of Rome, Pope Gregory I (Gregory the Great) ordered a penitential procession in which he himself carried a statue of the Blessed Virgin. As the procession reached the bridge across the Tiber, the singing of angels was heard. Suddenly Gregory saw an apparition of a gigantic archangel, Michael, descending upon the mausoleum of Emperor Hadrian. IN HIS RIGHT HAND, MICHAEL HELD A SWORD, WHICH HE THRUST INTO ITS SCABARD. Gregory took the vision as an omen that the plague would stop, which it did, and so he renamed the mausoleum the Castel Sant' Angelo (Castle of the Holy Angel) in Michael's honor.

(lenarpoetry.blogspot)

 KOREAN WAR 1950

(3.5-minute read)

By his intervention, St. Michael has been protecting many military personnel around the world from harm and death.

 One account of Saint Michael’s protection is that of a young United States Marine, who prayed to him every morning. Separated from his unit after a blizzard during the Korean War, he was caught face to face with seven enemy soldiers who had guns drawn ready to fire. Only thanks to the Archangel did he miraculously survive the ensuing shootout. The prayer the soldier said daily is known as the "Michael of the Morning" prayer:

 Michael, Michael of the morning,

Fresh corps of Heaven adorning,

Keep me safe today,

And in time of temptation

Drive the devil away.

Amen.

 That soldier, who renames nameless, recounted the miraculous tale in a letter to his mother as he recovered in a hospital. I quote verbatim the relevant portion of his letter …

 “We are going to have some trouble up ahead.” (St. Michael speaking.)

 He must have been in fine physical shape or he was breathing so lightly I couldn’t see his breath. Mine poured out in great clouds. There was no smile on his face now. Trouble ahead, I thought to myself, well with the Commies all around us, that is no great revelation. Snow began to fall in great thick globs. In a brief moment the whole countryside was blotted out. And I was marching in a white fog of sticky particles. My companion disappeared.

 “Michael,” I shouted in sudden alarm.

 I felt his hand on my arm, his voice was rich and strong, “This will stop shortly.”

 His prophecy proved to be correct. In a few minutes the snow stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The sun was a hard shining disc. I looked back for the rest of the patrol, there was no one in sight. We lost them in that heavy fall of snow. I looked ahead as we came over a little rise.

 Mom, my heart stopped. There were seven of them. Seven Commies in their padded pants and jackets and their funny hats. Only there wasn’t anything funny about them now. Seven rifles were aimed at us.

 “Down Michael,” I screamed and hit the frozen earth.

 I heard those rifles fire almost as one. I heard the bullets. There was Michael still standing. Mom, those guys couldn’t have missed, not at that range. I expected to see him literally blown to bits. But there he stood, making no effort to fire himself. He was paralyzed with fear. It happens sometimes, Mom, even to the bravest. He was like a bird fascinated by a snake. At least, that was what I thought then. I jumped up to pull him down and that was when I got mine I felt a sudden flame in my chest. I often wondered what it felt like to be hit, now I know..

 I remember feeling strong arms around me, arms that laid me ever so gently on a pillow of snow. I opened my eyes, for one last look. I was dying. Maybe I was even dead, I remember thinking well, this is not so bad. Maybe I was looking into the sun. Maybe I was in shock. But it seemed I saw Michael standing erect again only this time his face was shining with a terrible splendor. As I say, maybe it was the sun in my eyes, but he seemed to change as I watched him. He grew bigger, his arms stretched out wide, maybe it was the snow falling again, but there was a brightness around him like the wings of an angel. IN HIS HANDS WAS A SWORD. A SWORD THAT FLASHED WITH A MILLION LIGHTS. Well, that is the last thing I remember until the rest of the fellas came up and found me. I do not know how much time had passed. Now and then I had but a moment’s rest from the pain and fever. I remember telling them of the enemy just ahead.

 “Where is Michael,” I asked.

 I saw them look at one another. “Where’s who?” asked one.

 “Michael, Michael the big Marine I was walking with just before the snow squall hit us.”

 “Kid,” said the sergeant, “You weren’t walking with anyone. I had my eyes on you the whole time. You were getting too far out. I was just going to call you in when you disappeared in the snow.”

 He looked at me, curiously. “How did you do it kid?”

 “How’d I do what?” I asked half angry despite my wound. “This marine named Michael and I were just …”

 “Son,” said the sergeant kindly, ” I picked out this outfit myself and there just ain’t another Michael in it. You are the only Mike in it.

 He paused for a minute, “Just how did you do it kid? We heard shots. There hasn’t been a shot fired from your rifle. And there isn’t a bit of lead in them seven bodies over the hill there.”

 I didn’t say anything, what could I say. I could only look open-mouthed with amazement.

 It was then the sergeant spoke again, “Kid,” he said gently, “every one of those seven Commies was killed by a sword stroke.”

 Link: https://ucatholic.com/blog/the-miraculous-true-story-of-saint-michael-saving-a-us-marine-in-the-korean-war/

 EXORCISM 2019

Fr. Michel Rodrigue, exorcist and founder and Abbott of The Apostolic Fraternity of St. Benedict Joseph Labre (Quebec, Canada), recounted his experience with St. Michael during a difficult exorcism.

 "I know the devil because of the exorcisms I’ve done in my life. During one exorcism, I didn’t have too much time because I had to teach a course to the seminarian. With exorcisms, you never know when you’re going to finish. It depends on the will of the Father. Sometimes it can take one day, two days. Sometimes it can be three weeks. Sometimes it can be two years. This is a ministry. When you begin this ministry, you never know when it ends.

 I went to pray to Jesus at the Tabernacle and said to Him, 'You must do something. I don’t have any more time, and I cannot come back again because it is far.' I also asked Saint Michael for his help. I was so tired and didn’t think I could finish. Exorcisms can be very depleting.

 When I entered the room and started the exorcism prayer again, Saint Michael appeared. He was so tall. I SAW HIM WITH HIS SWORD, A FLAMING SWORD, REACHING UP ABOUT FIFTEEN FEET HIGH.

 I said, 'Please Saint Michael, you’re my patron. Help me with this case!' He just smiled. Then I saw him lower his sword coming down and when the flame of Saint Michael’s sword touched this person, the wind of the devil left. [Fr. Michel made a swoosh sound]."

(Jesusmariasite)

[queenofcats17]

//Round 2 with Harvey at mah door// Bendy dies from Hurricane Harvey while trying to save Joey, Joey goes insane trying to bring him back//to where he needs a straight jacket but he gets out everytime//, Joey manages to bring Joey back, Bendy gets a new power(to control ink) and he and joey seem to feel each other's presence, emotions, pain and hear each other's thoughts. Joey learns that bendy cusses in his mind when he falls through a hole, and you can get creative with the rest.

Joey Drew was, for the most part, a well balanced man. Aside from all the black magic he regularly dabbled with, he was a fairly normal person. He worked hard, didn’t get into trouble with the law, and interacted warmly with his coworkers. However, he always seemed to be a few steps away from insanity. Everyone who met Joey knew there was something just a little bit off about him. Given the right trigger, he had the potential to be an extraordinary madman. The right trigger, as it turned out, was the death of Bendy the Dancing Demon.

Bendy and Joey had been in Texas for an animation conference. They’d known about the oncoming hurricane, but it was too late to reschedule. So they went anyway, Bendy taking extra precautions to avoid getting too wet, fully aware of what would happen if he were to get soaked.

“Y’know, I’m starting to think this is where I’m gonna die.” Bendy said as he peered out the window of their hotel room.

“Don’t even joke about that.” Joey hoisted himself to his feet with the aid of his cane. “I don’t want to see you die, Ben. You’re like my child.”

“Joking’s all I’ve got.” Bendy said, shrugging a little. “Now, we gotta get to the conference, right?” Joey wasn’t exactly in any shape to drive at this point, so they hailed a cab. It was hard to get one due to the weather, but managed to find one all the same. The rain continued to pour down on the drive over. Bendy practically latched himself to Joey’s side the entire ride.

“So y’all are those fellas from Drew Studios, huh?” The cab driver said.

“We are.” Joey said, smiling.

“I grew up watching those cartoons. It’s a real honor, meeting y’all.” The driver glanced back, returning Joey’s smile. “Now might not be the best time to be here, though.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Joey assured him. “We know how to take care of ourselves.” Bendy kept his mouth shut. He had a feeling this was going to end badly, but he didn’t want to spook Joey. The old man had enough to be worried about without Bendy telling him he had a gut feeling. Joey would immediately freak out and insist they go back. He put a lot of stock in this sort of thing.

“You feeling alright, Ben?” Joey asked, looking down at Bendy.

“I’m fine.” Bendy said.

They reached the convention center and went inside. After going through a bunch of boring meetings, they got to interact with their fans. This was always Bendy’s favorite part of any kind of convention. He loved meeting all his fans and seeing their faces light up when he talked to them. Bendy had always done what he did for the fans. Without them, there was no point in doing what he did. As long as someone watched his show and enjoyed it, he was satisfied. Joey was much the same. He did what he did because he loved seeing the smiles on people’s faces, and because he genuinely loved being an animator. Once the convention was over, the pair stepped outside, preparing to head back to the hotel. The rain was coming down even harder. It was coming sideways now. Bendy whistled.

“I’ve never seen rain this bad.” He said.

“It is a hurricane.”  Joey shrugged a little. “We’ll likely be alright so long as we get inside quickly. Let me see if I can get us a cab.” He fumbled out his phone, dialling up the cab company. Bendy kept an eye out while Joey did so. All of a sudden, he saw a stop sign hurtling towards the two of them. He was too short for it to hit him, but it looked like it could hit Joey square in the head. Before Joey knew what was happening, he was being tackled into the street. The stop sign soared over their heads, harmless now.

“Ben, what was-” Joey started to ask, then stopped. He could see Bendy beginning to melt in the thigh high waters of the street. Joey began to panic, trying to drag the little demon out of the street. But the rushing water was washing him away quicker than Joey could save him. Still, he tried, scooping Bendy up in his arms. It was like trying to hold liquid.

“At least, you’re safe.” Bendy smiled tiredly as his form began to unravel. “You can always make another me. There’ll never be another Joey Drew.” Before Joey knew what was happening he was left with a white bowtie in his arms. He couldn’t move, just sitting there staring at the bowtie. He was still there when someone from the convention center came out to head home. The employee called a cab and a catatonic Joey was taken back to his hotel room. There were questions, of course, as to where his ‘little friend’ had gone. Joey didn’t answer. In fact, he didn’t say anything to anyone, save for the one phone call he made to the studio.

“Bendy’s dead.” That was all he said before he hung up. He remained silent until he returned to the studio. He was flooded with questions from everyone, as he hadn’t been answering his phone. Everyone thought he’d been hurt or dead or worse.

“What happened?” Henry asked.

“He saved me.” Joey said, his voice monotone. “He saved me and we fell into the water and he was washed away.”

“He saved you from what?” Henry persisted, even as Boris and Alice fell away, their shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs.

“There…There was a stop sign. Pulled loose by the winds probably. It was probably headed for my head.” Joey murmured, pushing past Henry.

“Where are you going?” Henry caught his friend by the shoulder. Joey turned to him, solemn face breaking into a slightly unhinged grin.

“I’m going to bring him back, Henry.” He said, starting to laugh. “I did it once, and I’ll do it again! There’s nothing to worry about!” He detached himself from Henry, making his way unsteadily towards his office. Something in Joey Drew had broken. Henry had hoped this day would never come. Joey had always been a man teetering on the edge of madness, and now he was in too deep. He locked himself in his office for days upon end, only coming out to eat or drink. Everyone in the studio was concerned. They tried to intervene, but Joey grew violent when cornered. There wasn’t a lot that they could do. Until, that is, Henry managed to convince the studio employees to help him put a straightjacket on Joey. There was a lot of kicking and screaming, and Joey managed to leave a nasty bite mark on one of the arm of one of the interns, but they got in him the straightjacket and stowed him in Henry’s office until they could find a mental health facility to take them. However, Joey managed to escape the straightjacket and returned to his office. By the time they found him, his ceremony was underway. Henry opened the door to Joey’s office to find a disheveled Joey, seated on the floor, a bowl of ink sitting atop Bendy’s model sheet in the middle of his hastily drawn pentagram, his hand dripping blood into the bowl.

“Joey!” Henry started to step into his office, but was blown back by when a sudden wind began to whip through the small room. Joey’s voice rose in a frantic chant as the flames rose. In the bowl, the ink began to bubble. A body started forming from the ink, a familiar form taking shape. Joey almost cried when he saw Bendy standing there. Bendy opened his eyes, blinking owlishly. When he saw Joey, bruised and bloodied, a half fastened straightjacket falling off him, he sighed heavily.

“Joseph Drew, what the fuck have you been doing?” He asked. The ink on the floor began to rise up as Bendy stalked towards the head animator.

“I had to bring you back!” Joey said with wide grin. “I had to!”

“No, you didn’t!” Bendy snapped, the ink forming a wall behind him. “Joey, look at you!” Joey could, somehow, feel Bendy’s anguish. The demon had been frustrated by Joey before, but it had never been anything like this. Suddenly, Henry groaned. The ink that had risen up behind Bendy dropped to the ground.

“Henry!” Bendy ran to the doorway. “Geez, what happened?”

“Joey happened.” Henry groaned, getting to his feet. “How are you back?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Joey jumped up. “He’s back! I knew I could do it! I told you I could!”

“Joey!” Joey felt a surge of anger from Bendy.

“Y..Yes?” Joey felt his bravado, his excitement, fading.

“Joey,” Bendy sighed, pinching what might have been the bridge of his nose. “You need help. You’ve lost it.”

“I’m fine.” Joey said, smiling shakily.

“No you’re not.” Henry put a hand on Joey’s shoulder. “Please, we’re all worried about you.” Now that Bendy was back, Joey was a little bit calmer, less violent. He had accomplished his goal. Joey hesitated, and Bendy felt his creator’s indecision and fear. He wasn’t sure why he could feel Joey’s emotions, but judging from Joey’s still bleeding hand, the creator had added some of his blood into the ritual.

“Joey, we gotta get you help.” Bendy said.

If I go in, I’m never getting out. He heard Joey think. But Joey Drew went with them anyway. They headed to a psychiatric facility, and checked Joey in. Joey chest was tight as he entered the provided room, glancing back at Bendy and Henry.

“It’s for the best.” Bendy assured him. And then the door closed.

[almightyaeneas]

Mad Jack and Inner Jack?

So I keep seeing posts that this fella here, Mad Jack:

Is the same being as what we’ve been collectively referring to as Inner Jack:

Now I’ve tried to find any actual confirmations for this and came up short, but once the theory was brought to my attention I gotta admit the pieces are there, and they do add up.

So for some context, Mad Jack was a physical manifestation of Jack’s anger and frustration brought into existence by Aku. The point was that if none of his bounty hunters could kill Jack, then maybe Jack himself could. Naturally Jack won out in the end, but he did so not through continuing to fight a pointless battle, but by finding peace with himself and coming to terms with his rage.

Quite interesting in this whole ordeal is that Jack quite literally absorbed Mad Jack into himself. A physical form could not be sustained if Jack himself refused to give into his negative emotions.

Now this was all the way back in Season 1, and we haven’t seen Mad Jack since... But just because you conquer your anger once doesn’t mean it won’t creep back up again.

Case in point:

Now, it’s quite clear that whether or not Mad Jack and Inner Jack are the same being, this is where they manifested. Right after Aku destroyed the last time portal, destroying and and all hope the samurai had of getting back home. The teeth are especially notable here, because we’ll be seeing them again later.

Of course, right after this is where Jack loses control of himself and slaughters the innocent goats Aku had cursed. Jack is noticeably horrified when he snaps out of it, and since the sword is a holy weapon it nopes the fuck out of there and falls down a chasm and presumably back into the realm of the gods.

Therefore causing Jack to lose that last bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had, and he spends the next 50 years wandering around with no purpose in life. His restored rage is already causing problems for him.

So fast forward through those lost 50 years, to Season 5, and the first time we’re introduced to Inner Jack is during the initial battle with the Daughters of Aku, when Jack is hiding under the carcass of a beetle drone.

And my he makes quite a splash doesn’t he? Wreathed in sharp shadows, he exists only to torment and taunt Jack over his mistakes, even going so far as to suggest seppuku as “the only honorable thing left to do.” Whatever his origins, whether or not it’s just Jack hallucinating his most repressed thoughts, it’s evident that Inner Jack does not have his best intentions in mind.

However it’s episodes 3 and 4 of Season 5 that offer the most prominent foreshadowing for the potential reveal later on in the season.

Look at it, that’s only a face a mother could love. Brought on by Jack’s deteriorated state after being heavily wounded the previous episode, the Inner Jack here is twisted and filled with obvious malice. A product of his delirious mind, the hallucination mocks Jack over taking his first actual human life, “Real flesh and blood.” But the clue here is just how demented Inner Jack looks in this appearance.

In episode 4, Inner Jack is looking the calmest and most normal he ever has, reflecting Jack’s recovered state of mind and the benefit of actually having someone to talk to... Even if it is a brainwashed assassin raised to kill him. But there are a few things to note from this appearance. First, Inner Jack outright advocates for abandoning Ashi to a painful demise inside of the beast they’re both trapped in. Despite his more cordial demeanor and calmer appearance, Inner Jack still never has Jack’s best interests in mind.

Second, Inner Jack actually notices Ashi’s been taken by one of the creatures living inside the giant beast before even Jack himself does. Inner Jack is the one to alert Jack to Ashi’s disappearance.

That casts an interesting light over just what Inner Jack actually is. By this point we’d all been assuming Inner Jack was just a hallucination, a sign of how far gone Jack is after all this time. True, it’s possible that Inner Jack noticing was simply Jack’s own way of noticing Ashi was gone but... It does imply some degree of independence of Inner Jack’s part.

That he might not be just a hallucination.

Inner Jack takes a break for a few episodes, but his reappearance in episode 7 is where the pieces all start coming together in regards to his connection with Mad Jack.

Jack goes on a spiritual quest to reclaim his lost sword, and he comes across a monk who tells him to make tea. Once finished, Jack gives the monk the tea, who’s response to to claim the tea is terrible. That Jack is unbalanced. This is where Inner Jack manifests completely, and looking the most like Mad Jack he ever has.

A red color scheme, the color of rage and anger. Teeth like daggers, and drawn as this twisted, monstrous thing... This is the point where Inner Jack drops all pretenses, and starts acting exactly like Mad Jack. Right down to the voice. Screaming against the injustices of the world. That the monk is deceiving them. That he’s the only reason the two of them have survived this long. 

It gets to the point that Inner Jack actually hits Jack, and it’s a strike that lands and causes Jack to go tumbling through some panels. That’s no mere hallucination, even taking into account the spiritual journey Jack is on at that moment.

But perhaps the most damning thing? That Inner Jack yells at Jack, and calls him a fool. Just like Mad Jack.

It’s never explicitly stated, but the implications are there.

Inner Jack and Mad Jack share far too many similarities for it to be just mere coincidence. Though the latter was initially manifested by Aku’s magic, it’s important to note that he was explicitly part of Jack from the very beginning. His anger. His frustration. He may have been kept under control for the time being, but it’s always possible to lose control and give into one’s darker emotions.

Then it’s just a matter of confronting them and refusing to give in.

[ceruleanmusings]

Mulan

Title: Mulan Fandom: Beyblade Summary: Max introduces Crystal to the Disney film Mulan Note: can also be found here (x)

“Okay, the popcorn is finally done so we can start the movie!” Max announced as he carried a bowl filled to the brim with the steaming snack into the TV room. He dropped down on the couch next to Crystal who grinned and immediately shoved her hand into the bowl. A few kernels slipped through her grip as she unceremoniously shoved the handful into her mouth. Max laughed. “Remind me never to enter you and Tyson into an eating contest.”

“I’ kih hih aff,” Crystal replied, her words garbled. The sound of crunching filled the air as she chewed in a rapid manner, her hand poised above the bowl ready for another handful.

“And send him into a downward spiral,” Max pointed out. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want to deal with Tyson when he’s upset.” He lifted the bowl and pulled the abandoned blanket off the floor, covering their laps with the thick, heavy wool. “So, I was thinking today could be a Disney night.”

“Yay!” Crystal threw her arms up in the air, her eyes sparkled in excitement. The sight made Max beam. Ever since he found out that she hadn’t been to a movie theater or a seen any movies in her lifetime, he’d made it his mission to sit down with her and watch all his favorites with her. Thus, Movie Night came to be.

Every Friday night they’d take over the TV room, turn off the lights, and stuff their faces with popcorn as the movie cut through the dark. He’s seen them all about a million times so he didn’t mind when she’d ask questions, laugh hysterically, gasp aloud, or bop along to the songs. Seeing the wide-eyed wonder on her face was worth it.

Crystal eagerly leaned forward on the couch. “Are we watching The Little Mermaid again? Or Peter Pan? Cinderella? Ooh! Ooh! Emperor’s New Groove! I really like that one! It’s so funny!” She laughed as if she were watching the movie right then and there. “I just love Kronk! He’s so funny!”

“No, we’re not watching any of those today,” he replied. He chuckled as her body deflated and a pout appeared on her face. “I think you’ll really like this one. I picked it out especially for you.”

Her head tilted, her black and blue streaked hair cascading over her shoulder as she thought. “…The Parent Trap?” she finally guessed.

“No. We can watch that one next week though.” Max twisted in his eat, shoving his hand in between the couch cushions. He wiggled his hand and pulled out the remote. He pressed a few buttons and the screen turned red as the word NETFLIX flashed on the screen. “We still have to perfect that handshake, by the way.”

She hummed and grabbed another handful of popcorn. “Don’t let Tyson hear you or he’ll get jealous.”

“He’s a little preoccupied with Hilary at the moment so you don’t need to worry,” Max replied amidst the popping noise of him searching for the movie.

Crystal gasped and sat up straight. “Are they finally not being stupid and actually doing something besides looking pathetic at each other?” she asked. “It’s getting annoying.”

“Not that I know of.” He settled back against the couch, repositioning the bowl of popcorn on his lap. “The way I see it, their arguing is going to turn to actual conversation one of these days. It’s only a matter of time until Cupid strikes.”

“Or!” Crystal held up her finger as she, too, settled onto the couch, “we could trap them in a closet until they either kill each other or kiss each other. Either way, that’s a problem solved.”

“…Let’s try and come up with a less violent solution.”

She blinked. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Max only smiled as the intro screen came up. The tan background as soon covered in swipes of black smears and smudges as they spread along the screen, forming a drawn tree, hills, and clouds. Out the corner of his eye he noticed Crystal’s eyes briefly narrowing over the swelling intro music but said nothing. Instead he bit his lip and waited. Soon enough, a second later, the title of the movie appeared on the screen and Crystal’s eyes widened as her arm shot out, pointing right at the screen.

“Mulan!” She stated. Her finger wagged and she turned to Max as if to check if he was seeing what she was seeing. “Mulan! I know about her! There’s this very famous legend about her back home! How she took her father’s place in war and came back a hero and returned to the life she left!” Her hands fell into her lap and her eyes got wider, if it were possible. “I always wanted to be like her,” she muttered, a touch of wonder attached to her words. “They made a movie about her! …They made a movie about us.”

“Yeah, they did,” he said kindly, his smile widening at her. The movie had barely started and it already had her sucked in, rapt. “Do you want to watch more?”

“Yes!” she practically dove across him to snatch the remote out of his hand.

He popped pieces of popcorn into his mouth and watched. Truth be told, the movie nights were more for her than they were for them. He’d only heard bits and pieces of her background, only asking questions whenever she brought it up and never pushing past what she would share. Like Kai, she kept a tight lip on her past transgressions but what he did know was enough to last him a lifetime and try to bring some peace to her world. She’d seen and lived through so many horrors, two hours of her night dedicated to good, wholesome entertainment.

“Is that an actual thing?” Max asked.

Immediately Crystal paused the movie; he didn’t miss how she jabbed the button with her thumb. “What? Matchmaking?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Does that actually happen?”

“Not like that. Not anymore, anyway. Nowadays we’re arranged before we’re born to ensure that family lines continue,” she replied. She rubbed the side of her head with the remote and cleared her throat. “Kinda makes it easier. You already know the families that will be united, because that’s more the point. Uniting families. You don’t want to be stuck with a shitty one.” She snorted. “Trust me.”

He didn’t reply. She unpaused the film and in a matter of seconds was sucked back into the movie again. She was silent except for comments every now and then such as “China looks beautiful” and “oh, I like that song” and “that Chi-Fu fella better be lucky he can’t talk to me like that or....” He could almost see her mind whirling, comparing the China she knew to the China she was seeing depicted in the movie and the stories she’d been told, passed down through generations.

Every now and then she would stop the movie to explain something to him or answer a question he had, such as the importance of the dragon imagery and why she gasped aloud when Mulan cut her hair. He hadn’t realized there were so many rules and guidelines all tied around family and honor. His respect for her and for Ray grew substantially.

And then they got to the best part. “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” is the best song from the movie, hands down. He even had it on his “Get Pumped” playlist to get him psyched before a match or before one of his recreational basketball games when he was back in New York.

She had practically melted off the couch by this point, becoming a permanent fixture on the floor in front of the TV. Her nose would have been pressed against the glass if he didn’t warn her about ruining her eyes. The minute the song ended she rewound the movie and watched it again and again, getting more into it each time; smiling back at Max as if to silently ask if it was okay and each time he’d smile back and nod. He’d never hold her back from enjoying the movie in the way she wanted to watch it.

And then, when it got to the final fight, he was on the floor with her; wrapped up in the heroics that were displayed on the screen. Crystal didn’t blink, afraid she’d miss any and every single moment that passed in front of her eyes. Before long the credits appeared on the screen and she sat still, as if frozen in place. Then, oh so slowly, she lifted her arm and paused the movie.

“So? What did you think?” Max asked.

“…Canwewatchitagain?” Crystal asked in a rush that it took him a couple of seconds to understand what she had said. She didn’t even wait for him to answer, jabbing her finger in the remote to start the movie again. “But we’re going to need more popcorn. We should get that first.” She picked up the abandoned bowl and shoved it into his arms. “But hurry!”

“I take it you liked it then,” he commented, already halfway to his feet.

“Max…this is a movie with people that look like me. And they’re from where I’m from. All the other ones we’ve seen, the girls had red hair or…or were princesses and had families and lived under the sea and had…animal friends. I don’t have that.” She sighed and pushed her long hair back over her shoulder and then used the remote to gesture to the screen. “This is the closest I can get. Like isn’t the right word.”

“In that case, we can make it a double feature and we can watch the second one too.”

“There’s more?”

Max got fully to his feet. “I’ll be quick.”

He threw another bag of popcorn into the microwave and then dumped it into the bowl when it was finished. Crystal practically tugged him to the floor when he got back into the room and immediately started the movie over. As the title appeared on the screen she yawned and rested her head against his shoulder.

“Thanks, Max,” she whispered.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side as the image of the Great Wall of China appeared on the screen.

[boelca]

Fatesona Challenge! Day 10: C-S-Support - Joe/Scarlet

Write one support conversation with (canon fates units or other fatesonas) that would end in marriage with that character (i.e. S-Supports).

A/N Because I'm self-indulgent trash. Also it seems like I'm slightly sadist (technically a little masochistic too) since I like destroying my poor fatesona's heart huehue I’m not 100% happy with this, but I need to move on from this day orz

Support: Joe/Scarlet

C-Support Joe: Alright, you can do this, Joe. Just go up and ask her your questions. Just smile nice n' polite and be real *gulp* polite and nevermind the fact that she's built like an Amazonian warrior princess and could probably snap you in half like a twig... Okay, you know what? Let's, uh, maybe wait on this for a day... or two... or twenty-four... Scarlet: Hmm? Hey, you there! What's with the loitering? See something ya like? Joe: GRRK! Scarlet: Whoa, you okay? Joe: Y-YEAH! I mean, um, yeah! I'm totally fine, just handy-dandy! Never better!... Uh... Hi! I'm Joe! Scarlet: Name's Scarlet. Are ya sure you're okay? Ya kinda look a little shaky. Joe: Oh, I'm fine! I just, uh, um... *sigh* Hey, do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions? I've been burning with curiosity about a few things, and I'd really appreciate it if you could help me. Scarlet: Sure! I don't mind! Fire away! Joe: O-Okay! Um, I've noticed that your weapons are really... what's the word? Decorated? Yeah, decorated. Do you do that yourself, or do you buy your weapons like that? Or, do you hire someone else to do them? Scarlet: Nah, I make 'em shiny all by myself! The gal who taught me the technique called it mosaic, and it's one of my favorite things to do. Joe: Mosaic? That's so cool! How do you create them? Scarlet: Well, first, I...

B-Support Joe: Hello, Scarlet! Scarlet: Yo, Joe! More questions, I take it? Joe: Yup! But, uh, before I ask this one, I just wanna let you know that you can not answer anytime you want, and it definitely won't offend me at all! Scarlet: Hmm? Now you're making me a bit nervous. You askin' after my love life or somethin'? Joe: N-No way! I'd never just jump right into your personal life like that, I swear! No, I j-just wanted to let you know is all! Scarlet: I'm just playing! Haha, so what's your question? Joe: I'd like to know more about the knights of Cheve, if it's okay? We heard about y'all all the way in Izumo, and I'm just curious about what your company is exactly. Scarlet: First, the knights of Cheve and my company aren't the same thing, though my company is made up of Chevois knights. Second, what you've probably heard about is the resistance, which was started and is comprised of mostly my company, but is bigger than just my men. Joe: Ahh... okay! Well, then, what prompted you to be the, um, what's the word... driving force...? Yeah, driving force of the resistance then? Scarlet: I couldn't stand what King Garon was doing to his people, and I couldn't trust the Nohrian nobility to do right by the common folk, either. So, I took matters into my own hands to protect the citizens of Nohr. And citizens everywhere, really! I just can't stand by and let someone innocent get hurt, ya know? Joe: ...Wow... You really are like some awe-inspiring warrior princess, fighting for the good of her people! Scarlet: Hah! Warrior princess? I like the sound of that! Joe: Well, it's true! You're always so regal-looking, not to mention you're really a force of nature on the battlefield! You're seriously like a fairy tale hero! Scarlet: Haha, keep talking and I'll have to start asking after your intentions! Joe: *blush* ... *passes out* Scarlet: H-Hey!

A-Support Scarlet: Yo, Joe! Back at it again with some more questions? Joe: You know it! I don't know if I've said it yet, but thanks so much for being so patient with all of my questions. I normally would've read up on the info myself, but... it's kinda hard to read a book about something recent like the resistance that hasn't been written down yet, y'know? Scarlet: Don't mention it! I like talkin' about home, especially with someone as eager to listen as you! Makes the missing not as strong. Joe: You miss home? Scarlet: Oh, all the time! Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to be here and all, fighting the good fight, but I do miss my fellas back home. It's taken some getting used to not waking up to the sounds and smells of Cheve. Joe: ...Do you mind telling me more about Cheve, then? I know it's a small country south of Nohr, and I know that it's famous for its knights. What are some of the customs and such there? Scarlet: Hmm, customs? Well, in Cheve, we believe that those who die turn into stars. Stargazing's really popular among the Chevois because of it. Joe: That sounds so... hmm... not melancholy... more like beautiful, I guess? It's such a... pretty way to think of death. Also kind of comforting, I guess. Scarlet: Isn't it, though? To think that my mom and pop are still watching over me wherever I go... Shining as brightly in death as they did in life... I think it's amazing. Joe: I like that idea, I think... Yeah, I like that a lot... *DING DING* Scarlet: Aw, damn, sounds like it's time for training. Sorry I got carried away! Ya didn't even get to hear that much about Cheve! Joe: Oh, no! It's totally fine! I'm so happy that I got to know you better! I really enjoyed hearing about such an awe-inspiring belief, so please don't worry about it! Scarlet: Hey, why don't we go stargazing sometime, and I'll tell ya more about Cheve? Joe: That'd be great! I look forward to it!

S-Support Scarlet: Joe! Over here! Joe: Hey, Scarlet! Sorry I took so long! I... sorta got involved in an incident in town. Scarlet: Seriously? You? What happened? Joe: Er, well, there was this guy yelling at this other guy who owned a ore-cart... thing, and he just kept talking down to the poor guy, and, of course, the guy who owned the cart couldn't say anything because the guy who was yelling had these big ol' bodyguards, and I just... lost it, I guess? I walked up to the cart and kinda pushed the other guy away, and I started politely conversing with the owner until the other guy tried to move me, and then I sorta kinda threatenedtokickhisbuttwithmytome... Scarlet: Woah, woah! Really? Joe: Yeah! The guy who owned the cart ended up giving me a huge discount n' stuff, too, even though I said I didn't need anything for it. I wasn't planning on buying any, but then I remembered your mosaics that you make, so, um... here ya go. Scarlet: Oh wow, there's so many! You shouldn't have, you crazy-generous sweetheart! I'll have to give one of your festals the razzle-dazzle treatment for this! And since when did you get so upfront? You're usually more timid! I would've thought you'd've called the town guard or something! Joe: Normally I would have, but... I guess I've taken your words to heart, ya know? I don't want to just be a bystander anymore. I want to actually take an active role in helping people. I want to... be more like you.   Scarlet: Nah, you don't need to be like me. You're perfect the way you are! Joe: Haha, not really. I'm working on it though! I mean, like I said, I'm trying to be more like you, and who's more perfect than you are? Haha! Scarlet: ...Ya really think I'm perfect? Joe: Hmm...? *pause* Oh my sweet gods, did I really say that out loud?! Scarlet: That you did! Joe: I-I-I, UM, UH- Scarlet: Calm down now! Your face looks like it's hot enough to fry a fish on, haha! There's nothing wrong with saying ya think I'm great! I think you're pretty great as well! Joe: U-Um, wow, uh, s-so, um, Cheve! W-We were gonna talk about Cheve, yeah?! Scarlet: Haha, yeah we were! But, before I answer another question for you, mind answering a question for me? Joe: N-Not at all. Scarlet: What do you plan to do after all this is over? Joe: Hmm? W-well, originally, I figured I'd go back home and keep studying and working, but now... I'm not so sure. I think I'll just go wherever someone like me's needed. Wherever I can be most of help, ya know? I AM trying to become a better person, after all. Scarlet: Well, if that's the case, ya could always come back to Cheve, with me. Joe: W-With you? Scarlet: Yeah! I'd love to show you Cheve first hand, and I know you could help us with any loose ends that'll come after all this. Not to mention, I'd really hate to be away from the girl I love! Joe: That sounds so- wait, girl you what now?! Scarlet: You heard me! I think you're the greatest gal ever! You're sweet n' bright like starlight, and I always feel so darn happy whenever ya come to talk to me! Not to mention, the way you focus on me and only me when I'm talking makes me feel like the only person in the world to you! Joe: Sw-sweet mother of all things good and holy, Scarlet... I... I don't know what to say. Not even in my wildest dreams did I ever think you'd also... Scarlet: Also? Aw, do you like me, too? Joe: N-No!... I... ugh, gimmee a second... I thought I'd have longer to figure this all out... I-I don't like you... I love you. I, um, darn it all, I had a whole speech and everything planned out in case this ever happened- not that I ever thought it would but- Gods, how do those people in the stories always manage to be so smooth?! Scarlet: Haha, Earth to Joe! Still with me? Joe: O-Oh, yeah! I just... *sigh* Scarlet, you're so much better than me at this... You've flustered the heck outta me! But, um... If I'm starlight, then you're the sun. You shine brighter than anyone I've ever met, and I, well, I've been drawn to you like a butterfly to a flower since I first met you! At first, you were just this amazing and awe-inspiring knight right out of my books. B-But then you just kept getting better and better the more I got to know you... I-I really do love you, Scarlet, a-and I'd be honored if you let me accompany you when you return to Cheve. Scarlet: ...And you said I flustered ya? Gods, Joe, ya know just what to say to a gal! Let's you and me help end this war! Together! Joe: Y-Yes! Together!

[ladydeeklynn-blog]

Missed opportunities for brotherly moments in Supernatural.

The following will contain *SPOILERS* for season 10 and beyond... Including the recent events of 13 and 14. If you haven`t seen 10 and beyond yet and don`t want to be spoiled then...here there be dragons folks. YOU WERE WARNED so no whining about it...

SPOILERS

Okay, now that we`ve gotten that out of the way.

The first time I noticed it was season 10 and since then there have been multiple times where a brotherly moment; like a hug or a conversation that would have added a lot to the boy`s relationship; could have been added, but was not for  various reasons.(In season 10 I blame the writer`s insistence on shoehorning Castiel AND Crowley into the story-line which left less time for the brothers.) The result is, at least to me, a glaringly obvious hole in the narrative that leaves the feeling of something left wanting. Then again It could be just me feeling like this, I don`t know. 

Let me go on the record as saying I love Cas, and I loved Crowley.. but for me they are secondary characters. Secondary characters who have grown in importance and have added a lot to the narrative but still secondary characters.

 ( Note before you get up in arms, this is how *I* see them. Others may feel differently, and that`s just fine)  To me the whole show is about the brotherly relationship between Sam and Dean. I`m a bi-bro fan with a slight Dean preference.

Missed moment # 1: Season 10 -  SOUL SURVIVOR

When Dean is finally cured of being a demon.

I know that a lot of people weren`t happy that he was cured so soon.  I however was ecstatic. Now don`t get me wrong I think Jensen did an amazing job playing Demon Dean. I know that the actor himself was disappointed he didn`t get to play the character longer. I know he`s going to be happy to play Michael!Dean this season and stretch his acting legs. I know he`ll do a fantastic job. For me however I love Dean just the way he is, and my whole love of the show centers around the brother`s together. 

So for me the Demon Dean arc was great.. but it ended just in time. What wasn`t so great for me was the real lack of a decent brotherly moment right after he was cured.  I mean Dean died, he was turned into a demon, was gone for months, basically left his brother Sam to be killed by Cole Trenton, chased Sam around the bunker trying to kill him, and said some really heartrendingly mean things to his baby brother

 Sam went through the wringer on this one mentally and physically. He was desperate to save his brother and with help from Castiel he finally did.  Yet after he`s cured we merely get a `You look worried fellas.`  from Dean, and two separate conversations between Dean and Cas regarding Sam and Sam and Cas regarding Dean. But no interaction between Dean and Sam on screen. What they needed in that moment was a conversation and/or some kind of hug. 

I recognize it might be because Jensen was directing this episode himself, and in between the sequences for Cas and Crowley he likely did not have time for more interaction between the brothers. Nevertheless It left the aftermath of the Demon Dean thing feeling a little empty for me. In the subsequent episodes we got some bits of conversation about what happened, the lengths Sam went to to save his brother, and Dean thanking his brother for saving him among other things.

 That`s good.

 The episode itself, however, left things hanging a little.

Missed moment # 2: Season 11 - RED MEAT

This is one of my favorite episodes. I love both brothers, (Dean a tad more) but I love me some Sam whumpage. Sam get shot early in the episode, trying to save two hikers, a married couple Corbin and Michelle from Werewolves. He seemingly dies when Corbin, ( Who unbeknownst to Sam and Dean has been bitten by one of the Werewolves) strangles/suffocates the badly wounded Sam so that the Uberprotective Dean will leave his brother behind and get them to safety.  The moment that Dean thinks his brother is dead is heartbreaking, and even though we as viewers know Sam can`t possibly stay dead, especially in the middle of the season, it is still hard not to get drawn into Dean`s grief.

I mean look at that. Doesn`t it make you want to hug him? 

Jensen is such an amazing actor.

Later it is revealed that Sam wasn`t dead...just mostly dead. Corbin`s attack sent him into shock. He wakes up alone in a cabin, manages to kill two other Werewolves, drive the miles to the Impala, and get to the local hospital in time to save Dean from the wolfed out Corbin. Yay for bad ass Sam! ( Though how bad ass he can actually be seems to be seriously depended on the plot of the week)

This is where we get to out missed moment. Sam shoots wolfCorbin as he`s trying to strangle Dean. As soon as Corbin is dead Sam collapses in the hall, and all we get from Dean is.. “ It took you long enough” 

I wanted Dean crawling down the hallway to collapse next to Sam after he`s sure he`s alive or something. I could have done with a hug in the car afterwards as well, or just when they stepped out of the hospital to get back in the Impala to go home. After everything both characters went though in the episode, at the end there they could have added a brotherly moment.. instead it was left hanging and sort of unsatisfying or me. 

Missed moment #3: Season 12- Mamma Mia

Image borrowed from  Den of Geek- 

This is one of the ones that bother me the most.

Sam has lived for days, maybe weeks believing his brother is dead. He had been repeatedly tortured physically and mentally. He has no idea that not only is his brother alive, his MOTHER Is as well.  Dean, on the other hand,  most definitely not died, has found out his mother is alive and reunited with her, and has returned to the bunker eager to get back to his baby brother and share this news with him. What he gets is an empty bunker, a pool of blood and Castiel who has no idea where Sam is.. and oh by the way Sam has been kidnapped??

Dean, Mary and Castiel spend a lot of time trying to find Sam. I don`t know the exact timeline so I`m going to say a week or more. When they do find him, Dean goes in alone only to get captured himself. The reunion of the brothers was a pretty good moment, if a bit short and a little underwhelming..

A bloody, beaten Sam looks at Dean in shock. “ Dean..I thought you were dead”

Dean, hanging from shackles, reeling from the effects of the spell looks at Sam and smiles `Hey. Well I`m not sure that I`m not. Listen I`ll tell you about everything later...” 

Check out what I mean here.

But later Mary shows up just in the nick of time to save Dean from getting his eardrums punctured with an ice pick. Sam is, understandably shocked to see his mother alive. After a nice fight between Toni, Mary, and Dean eventually the British Men of Letters torture happy bitch gets knocked out and Mick Davies shows up to calm things down. Here we have everybody okay, Sam`s free, Dean`s okay, Mary`s okay... it needed a moment. Mary is seeing her baby boy for the first time since he was an infant, I kind of wanted her to hug him. I kind of wanted an all around Winchester hug. Later at the bunker, they have that funny family dinner where Dean gets some illusions shattered ( It came from the Piggly Wiggly LOL )and eats an entire pie. Sam and Mary have a nice conversation where Sam gives her John`s journal and finally have that hug they should have had before. Afterwards Sam lays on his bed staring at the ceiling fan and Dean sits on his own drinking beer in the kitchen looking at pictures. I kind of wanted them to sit together drinking beer, and clink their bottles together you know? Something to symbolize them being together again. 

Okay those are my main ones. There are a few others with good moments that could have been so much greater with the addition of a hug, or some more dialog. But this is just me being nit picky.

We know how Dean feels about those moments.

 Honorable mentions

1) Season 10- The Executioners Song

After Dean kills Cain and manages to retain himself while doing it he comes out of the barn and collapses into Sam`s arms. It was sort of a hug so I guess it`ll do. 

2) Season 10 - Brother`s Keeper

Caught up in The Mark and his desperation to stop himself from causing any more carnage Dean makes a deal with Death. Kill Sam and Death will send him where he can no longer hurt anyone else. Dean and Sam fight, and the younger Winchester gets a good beat down but Sam eventually gets through to his big brother. Sam agrees to let Dean kill him if it means putting a stop to him. Death gives Dean his scythe but after some powerful words from Sam ( and some amazing acting from both boys) Dean slices and dices DEATH instead of Sam. Afterwards he drops the weapon and worriedly asks Sam if he is okay, but I would have kind of liked a hug. I might have a Winchester hug fetish though LOL

3) Season 11- Don`t Call Me Shurley

Image from Pinterest

Amara`s fog has taken over the town and infected Sam. Dean however, seems to be immune. Dean refuses to leave his brother`s side, as Sam struggles and is close to being taken over by the fog Dean looks up to the heavens and yells `Stop this, you hear me you dick!` Just when he thinks all is lost he sees something shining in Sam`s pocket... it turns out to be the Samulet. As viewers hear Chuck sing `Fare Thee Well` Miraculously the fog clears, the people in the closet are okay, and so is Sam. Both boys are shocked. I thought though it would have been cool if Dean had grabbed Sam by the coat, and yanked him into a hug. 

4) Season 12- First Blood

The boys are arrested by the Secret Service and taken to a black site and locked up for two months to try to get them to talk. They eventually get out by making a deal with Billie the reaper. They sort of die in their cells, and wake up in the morgue together. I thought the reunion between the boys was a little lackluster there. I mean they hadn`t seen each other for months, could we have gotten a better brotherly moment? Still that sequence afterwards with them hunting those military guys in the woods was just bad ass.

Man I get chills.  Image borrowed from here. 

5) Season 12- Regarding Dean

Dean is hit by a memory erasing spell and loses all of his memories. Another episode I really enjoy. It has a nice mixture of humor, and angst. The brotherly moments were good, but Dean was a bit of a jerk to pull that trick on Sam at the end. It would have been cool if after doing that mean joke, Dean had just stepped off the stairs and given Sam a little hug. 

Okay so there we go... just a few missed moments..and a brotherly moments that were a bit underwhelming for me.

Next time I think I`ll do my favorite brotherly moments, and then some of Jared and Jensen`s best acting. Just to balance out the criticism. 

Peace out!