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august-bleeds-red · 3 years

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A Job Well Done - Part Two

Jason Voorhees, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair and Michael Myers wet their S/O’s whistle (NSFW under the line)

Part One (Brahms Heelshire, Thomas Hewitt and Vincent Sinclair) here

Jason Voorhees (2009)

Summer is dying, the leaves changing to auburn and yellow, and Jason’s machete lies forgotten against the maple trunk. The tree stands alone in a large meadow of long grass, painted gold from the fading season, its crimson coat of leaves like fire against the azure September sky.

So many colours, yet the only shade you have eyes for is white.

You trace the patterns of Jason’s mask with your fingertips, like you don’t know them by heart already, couldn’t conjure the image in your mind from anywhere in the world. His hand rests easily on your skirt, the tip of one finger just brushing your thigh. You take his hand in yours and press it against the swell of your chest, leaning forward to plant a kiss at the place on his mask where his mouth would be.

“Jason.”

He’ll never grow tired of hearing his name spoken in your sweet voice. You begin to push your fingers beneath the hockey mask’s edge, pausing to kiss the exposed skin when his body freezes in fear. You’ve only seen his face once before – the first time you met – so you understand his hesitation to allow you a second view. When you get to his mouth, you kiss his twisted lips with enough passion to still his breath, and his hands grip tightly to your upper arms, holding you so close you can feel his heartbeat against your chest. The mask falls to the ground, gazing with empty eyes at the romantic scene playing out next to it. You feel so small, so safe, wrapped in his muscular arms, the heart beating beneath his torn shirt pulsing with vibrant life for you alone. Your hand trails down the bulky layers of clothing and settles on the crotch of his pants, causing him to shift in embarrassment at the hardness beneath. He’s still not used to the idea that his attraction to you won’t be met with disgust on your part. You chuckle and rub a little harder.

“It’s okay, baby.”

Struck by a sudden impulse, you get to your feet and look around the empty field to check that it’s . . . well, empty. The only sounds for miles are the rustling of leaves and the calling of birds; not even the faintest rumble of traffic reaches all the way out here. You pull your dress off in one quick movement, revealing the modest bra and boy-shorts you’re wearing underneath. You’ve never been this exposed under open sky before, and your heart dances as you unlatch the clasp at your back. You stand before him exposed to the world, the sun on your shoulders, the wind gently ruffling your hair. He rises to his full, considerable, height, his eyes never leaving yours, and backs you up against the trunk of the tree. The bark presses into your bare skin, imprinting the soul of the woods onto you as Jason leaves his own marks on the side of your neck.

“Hold still,” you whisper against his ear, dropping to your knees in the damp grass, your fingers already making short work of his belt buckle. He knows what you’re doing, although he can scarce believe it’s really happening. You, so pure, so perfect, blessing him with your beautiful lips and unconditional affection.

He’s even bigger than you thought he’d be. There’s no way you’re going balls-deep with this one, that’s for sure.

“A shower and a grower, huh?” you smirk up at him, appreciating the bashful expression that flits across his features.

He tastes like the wild, of soft earth and clear spring water. He bucks his hips involuntarily and the back of your head bumps the tree behind you, making you wince and rub your scalp. Leaning over slightly, Jason cups the base of your skull, protecting you from further injury.

“So thoughtful,” you smile, returning to your task, the shadow of his large torso now shielding you from any prying eyes. Not that anyone would need two guesses to know exactly what you were doing. You take him in as far as your throat will allow, and then a little further, so you gag a little on the thick head. He moans, deep and long, and you feel a surge of strange power – this giant oak of a man, brought to such tender passion by your hands, by your mouth. You run the flat of your tongue up the underside of his cock, feeling the bumpy veins against your sensitive taste-buds. You imagine how incredible it would feel to have this inside you, to have Jason pumping into you, spilling his seed into you, making you his and his alone.

You can tell he’s trying not to lose control, but his knees are shaking from the exertion of it. You’re determined to snap that final straw. Keeping one hand on his shaft, you lick at his balls, sucking them in and rolling them between your tongue and the roof of your mouth. He braces his free hand against the tree and begins to rock his hips in earnest, and you let your mouth drop open enough for cockhead to slide in and out freely.

He cums almost without warning, just two short spasms of his hips and your mouth is full of bitter-tasting seed, spilling out over your lips and dripping onto your exposed breasts. The sight of you coated with the evidence of his desires is almost too much for him. Swallowing what’s left on your tongue, you smile and wipe your lips as daintily as you can with your fingers.

Jason’s fingers hover over your chest, clearly wanting to help with the clear up but unsure if fondling your breasts is the best way to do it. Collecting as much of the translucent fluid on your finger, you put it to your lips and suck, keeping careful eye contact with the stunned man the entire time. You laugh as he tackles you to the ground, his eager lips already working their way down your body, large hands pushing your legs apart.

Looks like it’s your turn.

Bo Sinclair (warning: Daddy kink)

It’s not often that Bo condemns you to the garage basement, but when he does, you know its going to be a good few hours before you’re released. The man has the stamina of a jackrabbit and can go at least four times before he’s fully satisfied, or at least until he gets hungry and wants supper.

You try not to think of how many less compliant girls Bo has restrained in the chair as he tightens the straps around your wrists. Now that he has you, any victims are given straight to Vincent for the museum, but you know there have been many who have passed through his room first. As you watch him secure your ankles in place, you marvel at how such a beautiful countenance can conceal such a dark and twisted history. But, for your sins (and his), you love him.

“That not too tight for you, is it, sugar?” he asks. “Hate to mar this perfect skin of yours.”

His large hands cover your wrists over the buckles, the sleeves of his shirt riding up just enough for you to see his scars. You shake your head and he flashes a wicked smile. The chair has a crank on its side that adjusts the height, and you can only watch as he turns it round and round, the entire mechanism dropping you further down towards the floor. Ah, so he was in this kind of mood. He’s already undoing his belt, the clinking of metal like an orchestral warm-up to the main event. Lifting one leg high, he plants it firmly on the other side of the chair so he’s basically straddling your shoulders, his head silhouetted against the ceiling light.

“You go ahead and open those pretty lips nice and wide,” he says, stroking his cock languidly and rubbing the tip against your mouth. You know he likes to sing for his supper, likes to work for it a little, so you don’t give up the goods immediately, rolling your head to the side and keeping your lips firmly closed. Bo growls and cups your chin firmly between his fingers.

“I said open,” he squeezes harder and your mouth opens a crack, giving him an in to force his cock onto your tongue and straight to the back of your throat. You cough and splutter a little, but he doesn’t want to break you when you’ve just started playing.

“Y’like that, huh, bitch?” he moans. “Y’like taking daddy’s cock?”

In this space, in this world of just you and him, the words send a thrill right down to your toes. He frames your head with both hands, keeping you in place as he fucks your mouth. The back of your head bumps against the chair and your fingers flex against their bonds.

Bo hisses through his teeth, gripping and releasing your hair as he thrusts. “Fuuuuuck, babe. You feel so goddamn good.”

Reaching behind him, he forces his hand under the waistband of your jeans, two thick digits probing your slit, coming away wet.

“Such an eager slut,” he grins, sucking your juices from his fingers with obscene pleasure. “You’re so wet for my cock in your little whore mouth.”

You whimper around him, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, your tongue slick with precum. His rhythm is becoming more erratic, the dirty names coming thick and fast in the way they always do when he’s about to cum inside any of your holes. In these moments, he might call you a slut, a whore, a filthy bitch, but you’re his, goddamn it, and he’ll mark you as his territory a thousand times to let the whole world know it.

You screw your eyes shut tight as he cums in the back of your throat, forcing his hips as far forward as possible to ensure you can’t spit any of it out. You’re gasping for air when he finally pulls away, mascara smudged under your eyes, your hair tangled from his grasping fingers.

His eyes turn soft as he bends down to kiss you, fingers toying with the straps. “You want outta these?”

You know the answer he wants to hear, and this time, you’re gonna give it to him. His grin turns wolfish as you shake your head.

“That’s my girl.”

Lester Sinclair

“No offense, sweetie,” you say as you pull away from Lester, “but you kinda stink.”

He pulls a face and sniffs unceremoniously under his arms. “Ain’t no worse than Vinny.”

Okay, not true – the worst Vincent smells like is an accident in a Yankee Candle shop. “Well, I don’t share a bed with Vincent. In the tub, mister.”

Since you moved into the Sinclair family home, the extra efforts Lester had made during your courtships seemed to have slipped slightly. Not that you minded, really – you loved him anyway – but it was nice when he wasn’t sporting Eau de Man Smell.

“Tell you what,” you purr, running your fingers down his shirt to rest over his belt buckle. “You hop in that tub, and I’ll do things that Vinny will hear from the House of Wax.”

Like a racoon into a garbage can, Lester rips off his shirt and hops in the direction of the bathroom, one foot already tangled in the leg of his jeans. By the time he emerges, skin pink from the hot water, towel wrapped around his waist, you’re waiting on the bed. His dark eyes sweep over your body, naked and ready for him, and the bed practically bounces off the wall in his eagerness to reach you.

“Lie on your back,” you instruct, pulling the towel apart to reveal his dripping cock. He watches you with thinly-veiled adoration as you start to lick the head, fingers squeezing and rubbing along the shaft.

“Baby,” he strokes your hair and you raise your head to meet his gaze. “Turn ‘round.”

A knowing grin on your face, you swivel to face his feet, giving him a front-row view of your soft, moist slit. His hands on your hips ease you backwards, far enough for his tongue to reach you, and you lean down to take his cock back into your mouth. At this angle, it slips easily to the back of your throat, just big enough to make you gag when you try and hold it there too long. You moan as his warm tongue licks at you, inside you, and the vibration of your voice sends a thrill running through his body. As you bob up and down, licking the head of his cock like a popsicle, he alternates between worshiping the folds of your pussy, and sucking on your clit. The sheer intensity of his administrations combined with the taste of him on your tongue has you almost whimpering with arousal. You take him in as far as you can and swallow around him, making his hips buck and drawing a choke from your throat.

“Ah shit, baby, that’s feels so fucking good,” he moans, breath warm against your sex. You cum first. Lester feels the muscles inside you contracting again and again around his probing tongue, and soon after empties himself into your waiting mouth. Adjusting your position to right-side-up, you snuggle into his side, his arm holding you close, and breathe a contented sigh.

Sure, it might be a little annoying having to remind him to bathe, but if this was the pay-off, it was fucking worth it.

Michael Myers (warning: Michael likes it rough)

As the door slams shut, every muscle in your body tenses in the fight-or-flight response you’ve grown to ignore when around your boyfriend. When he’s in a good or apathetic mood, you never hear him coming, but when his mood turns sour, the foundations of the house rattle.

He’s dripping blood as he looms in the doorway, six-foot-eight of chest-heaving, seething anger. Usually an evening of mindless slaughter is enough to sate him in a dark mood, but when that fails, it comes down to you. You love him – you’ll always love him – but in these moments, you can’t deny the fear that spikes at the back of your neck.

“Hey, babe,” you say, trying to keep your voice light. “You . . . welcome home.”

You try not to wince as the bloodied knife in his hand sails through the air to land with a deadly *THUNK* in the wall behind you, dark crimson oozing down the wallpaper. You’ll have fun trying to explain that to the landlord.

“Michael—”

He crosses the room in three long strides, grabbing you by the elbow and yanking you to your feet.

“Ow! Hey, what’re you—”

Grabbing the back of your head in one enormous hand, he smothers your lips with his, forcing his tongue in deep in a kiss that tastes of blood, his teeth grinding cruelly against your mouth. It has the desired effect, stealing your voice as he drags you through to the bedroom and throws you down onto the bed. Still trying to catch your breath, you watch helplessly as Michael rips down the zip of his jumpsuit, pulling it down over his shoulders. His mask is thrown into a corner of the room, his long hair falling loose around his face. You catch a brief glimpse of his hard, muscular body, straining against the fabric of the black T-shirt he wears underneath, before he grabs a fistful of your hair and wrenches you onto your back, not hard enough to hurt, but enough for you to know you’re to Stay Put. Your head hangs over the side of the bed and, from your upside-down perspective, you can see him working his long, thick cock into hardness.

Oh boy.

You just have time to open your mouth before he’s pushing inside, sliding easily to the back of your throat and then still further. Since you got together, your deepthroating skills have had to evolve quickly. Fisting handfuls of the bedsheets, you catch the smallest of breaths before his pace quickens, fucking your throat as he would your pussy, drawing out those deep, wet choking noises from you that get him even harder. He rumbles deep in his chest, hands wrapped around your throat to keep you in place, thumbs pressing on the spot where he can feel his cockhead bulging against your skin. He pulls out for a moment to let you gasp and cough before plunging in again, one hand at your neck, the other roughly fondling your breasts. You clutch at his thick wrist like a lifeline, nails digging in. Your eyes are streaming, your throat already raw from such a brutal attack, and you know this is just the first of many assaults.

Michael swears under his breath, voice low and animalistic, his body tensing like a marble statue as he cums directly down your throat, the taste barely touching your tongue.

Sinking to his knees beside the bed, you take a moment to catch your breath before rolling over and reaching out a tentative hand. His strong fingers grip yours – to stop you or feel your touch, you can’t tell – dark blond hair obscuring his face. Slowly, he draws your hand to his mouth, not to kiss, but to simply feel against his lips. It’s not always easy, having Michael Myers be the owner of your heart, but you’ve no desire to claim it back. Not when you know, in your soul, that you own his in return. He doesn’t push you away when you stroke his hair, even going so far as to move a little closer.

“It’s okay,” you say, your voice hoarse. “You’re home now.”

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draconic-ichor · 3 years

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In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 17: Lingering Touch

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood, penetrative sex, oral sex, breeding kink, heat, sex toys, overstimulation

Summary: Juniper wakes up after the Bloodmoon… but something feels different

Feedback appreciated. 18+

This is a smut heavy chapter folks….

Juniper awoke in their bed. Her muscles were sore and she felt incredibly hungry. She raised her hand to touch her face, but a sharp thorn of pain rippled through the bones of her arm. Juniper looked down, seeing her arm wrapped up in thick bandages.

She made a tiny sound of alarm, trying to sit up. Her memories were coated in a thick fog of the night before, the only thing that was at the forefront was the taste on her tongue:

Blood.

Was it her own? She was obviously injured. But oh god, what if it wasn’t. If her stomach wasn’t a yawning emptiness she might have retched.

Juniper heard the speakers rattle to life overhead.

“You awake buttercup?” Heisenberg’s voice sounded.

“Y-yea…” she answered.

“You sit tight and rest.” His voice ordered, “I’ll be up after I finish up down here, and I better not see your ass out of that room.”

As the speakers died Juniper huffed annoyed.

She shakily stood, making her way to the kitchen. She rummaged through the fridge and cabinets, desperately wanting to fill her belly and wash the taste from her mouth.

Juniper ended up making the biggest sandwich she’d ever made: it consisted of multiple layers of cheese and meats, even adding what little veggies she could find onto it.

She sat at the table, wolfing it down hungrily. She felt like her insides were hollow. As she neared the end of her meal Heisenberg came through the door to check on her.

He looked over the disorderly kitchen, shooting her an amused smile, “Hungry, kitten?”

She nodded, her mouth full of her most recent bite.

Heisenberg chuckled, striding past and sifting through the mess to make himself something.

Juniper swallowed, then asked, “What happened?”

Heisenberg gave a deep sigh, “Well…long story short, you turned into the big bitch again.”

Juniper grew quiet, trying to think.

Heisenberg went on, “I don’t know what you did, you fucking ran off on me. Found you in the stronghold, had a gunshot wound.” He gestured to her arm. Juniper felt it over swallowing again.

“D-Did I hurt anyone?” She asked tentatively.

Heisenberg gave her a long look before answering honestly, “I’m not sure Doll…but you were covered in blood…”

She read between the lines, nodding.

Shrugging Heisenberg picked up his plate to sit next to her, “It comes with the territory, buttercup. We all lose control early on.”

He reached out and took her hand in his gloved one, “It’ll get easier.”

Juniper nodded again, meeting his eyes.

The next few days went by slowly. Juniper felt restless and hot. Her skin felt sensitive and the hunger morphed into something more, a different emptiness and need filled her.

She sat down in the workshop, and Juniper was in a mood, the type of mood where she strove to be the biggest nuance she could be. It had long since worn Heisenberg thin, her status to him the only thing keeping him some semblance of calm.

“Buttercup…” Heisenberg hissed through clenched teeth, “You are really starting to piss me off.”

She pulled the tool she’d been lightly tickling him with away with a little whine. She wanted attention, wanted to be touched.

“How about you go back to the apartment.” It was more of an order, “Let me work.”

She begrudgingly did what she was told, returning to the apartment dejectedly. Sitting on the edge of the bed she fidgeted with the edge of her dress.

As the hours went on the feeling sharpened into a deep desire. Her body erupted into a cold sweat, muscles twitching under the skin. Her mind felt foggy and heavy.

Heisenberg finally entered the apartment, after he'd finished with the tasks he set before him that day. The second he was through the threshold Juniper was on him. She was unclothed, eyes dilated.

“Hello, Doll.” He gave a cocky smile as she started pulling his coat off. He let her as he slowly walked towards the bed.

Juniper pushed Heisenberg back onto the bed. He made a sound as he hit the mattress, chuckling once he got his breath.

“You ok buttercup?” He smiled cockily, watching as she practically ripped the rest of her clothing from herself.

“No.” She shook her head, crawling over him. Her eyes were dark and lustful, sweat gathering on her brow.

“I’m so horny.” She huffed out, “So horny it hurts!”

“Hey now.” He chuckled as she started to undo his belt. Juniper looked up at him almost annoyed before continuing.

“So am I going to be the pillow princess tonight?” He folded his arms behind his head showily.

Juniper struggled to get him undressed, her hands shaking a bit.

“You can be whatever you want.” She almost growled.

When his cock was free she found it with her mouth hungrily. Heisenberg made a sound of surprise as she lathed over him with her tongue.

She looked up at him with half lidded eyes, vision of a predator. His smirk faltered, her smell hitting him. She smelled sweet and alluring.

He licked his lips, realizing she’d been acting strangely since the bloodmoon.

Had its primal song sent her into a mock heat?

He didn’t have long to muse, she was on him. She trapped him between her thighs, letting out a ragged breath. Heisenberg rubbed up her legs softly, aware of her dripping core.

He smiled roguishly, thinking he was in for a good night.

Juniper bounced on him, seemingly unrelenting. Heisenberg’s eyes were shut, his jaw tight. His muscles would tighten with every movement of her hips. Her hands found his shoulders, beginning to buck faster as another orgasm inched ever closer.

Heisenberg had already come multiple times, concentrating more on holding himself together now then focusing on whatever she was doing.

Her walls clenched down on him, milking his cock. Juniper threw her head back, playing with her own piercings as she cried out.

Heisenberg writhed underneath her, unable to hide his sounds. He moaned loudly, gripping her hips as she kept up her onslaught. His thighs trembled with pleasure under her.

“F-Fuck buttercup!” He moaned out, huffing out hotly. His idea of the night was quickly turning over to survival.

Juniper couldn’t find real relief, her body searched it out with unending energy. His smell was driving her wild: a mix of musk and sweat. She ran her fingers through Heisenberg’s chest hair, drawing out a shutter from him.

Had it been hours? How many times did he spill out into her?

Heisenberg didn’t know, overstimulation and pleasure bleed together into a cocktail of primal passion that made his head spin. He was usually the one with higher stamina but Juniper was a force to be reckoned with in this state.

“Doll?” Heisenberg groaned out, when she didn’t stop he grabbed her hips hard.

Juniper mewled in protest.

“Doll, I need a drink.” He shook his head, “You’re fucking killing me here.”

She made a sound of distress as he lifted her off of him. Juniper pouted up at him.

“God damn.” Heisenberg tried to stand, his legs almost buckling under him.

He made his way to the kitchen, nearly falling into the sink. He bent forward, cranking his neck to drink straight from the tap needily. Water trickled down his chin, getting caught in his beard. Shutting off the water, he had a ragged breath.

He turned, seeing her still on the bed, rubbing her thighs together.

Sighing heavily he spoke, “How about I get that toy I made for you, hm?”

“Don’t go!” Juniper stood, worry making her shake.

“I’ll be quick.”

“Can I come with you.”

“It’ll be faster if you’re not hanging all over me buttercup.” He admitted, seeing her wilt.

“I’ll come right back and play with you for a while with the toy…Give me a bit of a breather.” He admitted, “Then I’ll be top for a while. See if that’ll help.”

She gave him a tiny nod.

He was true to his word, as he most often was, returning promptly with the toy in hand. He pulled up a char before the bed, sitting heavily down.

“Get on your knees, in the bed.” He instructed, using his powers to pull his cigar case towards him. She crawled onto the bed, lifting her butt up in the air. She waited impatiently as he cut and lit a cigar. He took a long drag before mentally bringing the toy over to her.

She made a little cry as the cold metal speared into her. Heisenberg leaned back in the chair, watching as he used the device to piston into her, setting a quick pace.

A mixture of her own slick and his come ran down her thighs from her swollen cunt.

He kept this up for a long while, removing the toy to press against her clit from time to time. He loved to just sit and watch her fall apart.

The way her legs trembled and her back arched to get better angles. He’d never seen her so feverish to fuck, unused to being the one running out of stamina.

When he felt his strength return with a second wind he pulled the toy free of her. It fell wetly to the floor with a metallic clink. Juniper made a little sound from the loss of sensation.

Juniper started to move, turning to look at him.

Heisenberg stood growling, “Stay right there. Ass up.”

She complied, wiggling her hips a bit enticingly. He stood behind her, marveling at the artwork of flesh before him. He ran his palms over the plush of her ass and down her soft thighs, earning a mewl from her.

“You want to act like a needy bitch, you’ll be fucked like one.” He spoke huskily as he lined himself with her opening.

He speared into her without mercy. If she wanted to be fucked in oblivion he would do his damndest to comply. He set a fast rough pace, hearing her cry out every time he hilted fully in her flesh.

“Yea this is what you fucking wanted, wasn’t it?” He growled, pounding into her. She made a sound, lips open and wavering.

He smacked her ass hard, “Want my pups you, needy Bitch?”

“Y-yes!” She cried.

“Tell me.” He thrust faster, fingernails digging into the skin of her hip.

“I want your pups!” Screamed out as an orgasm washed over her.

Heisenberg groaned out, feeling her walls fluttering around him.

Her nerves were shot, pleasure numbing every extremity. He was finally fucking all thought from her.

“That’s it.” He moaned, feeling her finally submitting fully.

Their hips clapped together loudly, almost drowning out the wet sound. Juniper mewled under him.

He gave a few more savage thrusts, gripping her hips enough to bruise as he buried his cock in her. His balls tightened as he filled her with everything he still had, roaring out like a Lycan.

He fell forward, stomach pressed against her lower back. He dipped his head down and whispered in a gravelly voice, “Good girl.”

Heisenberg pulled out of her, feeling sore and aching. Juniper collapsed onto the bed, relief washing through her. He lay down beside her, the only sound the mixture of their labored breathing. Both were totally spent, mentally and physically.

“Warn me next time you feel…whatever the fuck that was…ok doll?” Heisenberg murmured with closed eyes.

Juniper gave a little rumble.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg #in the steel steeds heart #resident evil #heisenberg smut

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softkuna · 3 years

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playlist

› 𝚋𝚘𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘

› 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚢. 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜. 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚜. 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝.

› 𝟸𝟷𝟿𝟻𝚔

You had a shit day. You got pegged in the face with a volleyball so hard, you could practically taste the concussion as you sprawled backwards. Luckily, the medic ok’d you to keep playing. Unluckily, the whole ordeal happened right in front of a pro team’s scouting manager. The embarrassment alone made you want to hide under a rock until next season. To make it all sting just a little bit more, Bokuto and Kuroo had their own games to attend, so it wasn’t like you could curl up in Kuroo’s dorm like you might’ve before. Bokuto was only in town for a few days, too, and you were certain he’d be practicing or playing the whole weekend. So instead, you sigh as you walk onto the train by campus, shooting a text to the tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum.

🗨️We lost :( I think I broke my nose. And my careeeeeeer

Bokuto’s fingers rapid-fire replied, followed my Kuroo’s more casual pace.

🗯️BROKEN NOSE?!! ARE YOU OK???

🗯️Wait how did u lose? Aren’t they good luck????

💬That’s a broken leg, bruh.

💬Sorry babe. You’re not concussed, though, right?

🗨️I’m fine ^^” just pulled a hina

🗯️Hows a broken leg good luck? U cant play on that THAT SHIT HURTS 😱 😱

🗨️👀 👀 👀

🗨️Bo pls

As you sat on the train, you quietly snorted to yourself. Bokuto was an amazing player and an even better boyfriend, but sometimes you thought his muscles squeezed out a braincell or two.

💬Saw the clip on twitter. hows your face? I’m sure its still hot

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Kuroo, flirtatious as always, but your reflexive smile matched the tone of your text.

🗨️If hot = busted, then sure 🙄

🗯️HEY UR HOT 😘 😘 SHUDDUP

By the way their texts disjointedly pieced together before coming to a halt, you knew their matches started. You locked your screen with a sigh. Whether it was the ace’s ADHD-induced impulse thoughts or the blocker’s humorously blunt honesty, the two had always managed to spike your spirits high and block the anxieties that crept over the net. Without their distractions, the day replayed in 4K across the theater of your mind. Back slumped against the seat, you could feel the heaviness of it drag you down to the ocean floor.

But now here you were, walking to your apartment with no reprieve from the disappointment. Rather than doing your adult responsibilities like clean, cook, or generally care past a shower, you slept. It was a deep, blank sleep. The type where you know you’d wake up feeling that eerie calm in the dead of night.

Brightness blared next to your pillow – invading your vision as it violently vibrated against your hand. A loud ring attacked your half-concious hearing, jolting your heart like a jumpstarted engine. Quick reflexes enacted before you could stop the near Olympic vault of your phone into the wall across the bed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me… who the hell….” You tear the blankets off, shivering at the cold as you pick the device back up. Thank your lord and savior, Asahi, for gifting you an Otter Box for Christmas.

A gentle gasp left your lips as you saw a slew of missed texts from the dynamic duo. Oh no. Oh no. You felt horrendous. Your phone lit up as a photo of Kuroo with a French fry up his nose vibrated to life.

As fast as your fingers could, you slid to answer, “He-“

“-LLO WE ARE OUTSIDE ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?!” Bokuto hollered into the mic, practically blowing out the speaker with sheer vocal force.

“Holy shit, Bo! What? What do you mean?” Cautiously, the screen was brought closer to your cheek again, ghosting about a centimeter for your hearing’s safety.

“Don’t you check your phone, hot-stuff? We’re going for a drive,” Kuroo honked the horn, echoing through the window and phone.

Sure enough, the string of texts was about a drive and a half-planned plan of action. Thrilled enthusiasm rippled through you. You didn’t even think you’d get to see Bokuto this visit let alone with Kuroo! Praise the scheduling gods!

The phone squished between your shoulder and ear as hands searched for an outfit that wasn’t your hoe shorts and sports bra. You threw on Bokuto’s old Ace’s Way shirt, and on top a near ancient Nekoma varsity jacket. Both items of which were left in your apartment from a get together nearly a year ago, “I’ll be out in a sec!”

College was difficult. Especially when each of you had gone in somewhat different directions after high school. Kuroo, like yourself, played volleyball in university. And like yourself, nearly ripped his hair out when experiencing the hell that was Macroeconomics with Professor Mori. Bokuto was scouted play volleyball professionally, popping in and out of Tokyo to visit you two. At some point along the way and a slew of confusing budding emotions later, the three of you dove head first into a lovingly symbiotic relationship. It was hard when each of your schedules were chaotic, but worked out for the best as you all strove for your own goals while cheering each other on.

You grabbed your bag of random things including underwear, extra clothes, and some money. You never knew with the two of them what may happen and you learned from one wild trip to Osaka that Bokuto’s sense of direction was about as bad as you’d think it’d be.

Half jogging, you rolled your eyes to the red corvette. Kuroo loved that thing way too much. Through the window, you could see Bokuto lean across the console to open the back driver-side door for you. The grin he wore could’ve fueled the sun itself, “BABE! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! EDGE-LINE STRAIGHT SHOT! WER’RE GOING ON AN ADVENTURE,” His muscular arm stretched to you, calloused hands reaching for you to grab.

He pulled you you between the seats for a bear hug, wide chest nearly eating you whole. He was as toasty as always. Or maybe it was just your cheeks. Either way, you were happy to see him, “Missed you, Bo! Sorry for missing the texts.”

“You were asleep weren’t ya?” Kuroo turned in the driver side, a hand finding its place at the crown of your hair. The lazy pique of his own lop-sided smile greeted your playful glare, which melted into a nod and a sigh. The look he gave softened at the navy-coated aura rolling off you in waves. He stroked your hair once, poking your cheek as his hand passed it, “You’re here. ‘s all that matters. Now, Hoots over here can shut up about your nose, which is… a little fucked up, wow.”

“You don’t say?” Your expression dead-panned as Bokuto pulled back from you to examine the swollen cartilage. While you wanted them to see the game, you were absolutely glad that they didn’t. Bokuto would have barreled down the bleachers had he seen your wipe out in person. Actually, you recalled a snap from Atsumu; the camera pointed to the tile of a locker room, Bokuto’s howling in the background with a simple caption of ‘You good?’

Pulling away from the ace, you sat back into the middle seat, arms resting on the leather between the passenger and driver sides. Kuroo drove with his hands low on the wheel, long digits thwacking the steering wheel to a silent beat. You glanced between the two, suspicious of their matching expressions. You dared ask, “Why’s it so quiet?”

“Are you saying-“ Kuroo began.

“-you want some tuunesss?” Bokuto ended giddily.

He readily tapped a button on his phone, shielding the screen from you protectively. Kuroo’s gaze darted between the dash screen and the road, waiting for whatever shitpost song Bokuto most definitely was about to put on.

“Guys… what are you-“

A record scratch.

I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me.

“You’re fucking kidding me! Turn it up, turn it up!” Your hand bulleted to the volume, body squeezing past the two to crank up Cascada’s Everytime We Touch until the windows rattled. Kuroo and Bokuto shared a knowing, toothy smirk. Bingo.

“Forgive me, my weakness, but I don't know why

Without you, it's hard to survive!”

Duetting with the utmost of dramatics, you and Bokuto reached for some imaginary lover escaping in the distance, opposite hand grasping near your hearts. Kuroo snickered, forever and always amused at how weirdly in-sync the two of you could be. Watching both of you thrash wildly together was probably the most endearing thing he’s seen all day.

The silveret pumped his fists as you both scream-sang the modern masterpiece. His large hands enveloped yours with enough theatrics to shake the emotion into the chorus:

“'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling

And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly

Can't you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last

Need you by my side

'Cause every time we touch, I feel the static

And every time we kiss, I reach for the sky

Can't you hear my heart beat so? I can't let you go

Want you in my life!”

The palm of your hands smacked into their biceps at the last lines, letting the 2000’s synth twinkle into your veins. The vibes in this vehicle were immaculate. Waves that crashed over you, drowning you earlier in the day, receded, leaving sun-warmed sands to dance across. The ones who paved the way were a sarcastic cat and overzealous owl.

The song was coming to an end and you excitedly whipped between the two, “What’s next?! What’s the playlist?! Link it to me? Please?” You bat your eyelashes at them, Kuroo nudging his chin to the other. The ace hurriedly clicked a few buttons and opened a few apps, radiating delight itself, “Done!” Your phone buzzed with Bokuto’s link. The title of the playlist popped up, overpouring unadulterated admiration into your heart until it warmed up to your cheeks.

Tunes To Cheer Our Best Babe Up To.

It was silly, but on brand for the two. All of the songs were added within the last three hours by both boys. Each one of them an absolute banger.

It was Kuroo’s idea in the beginning. He remembered all the times in high school you’d cry after an exam, near inconsolable until he’d loan you his headphones. Just a few months ago, he caught you throwing it back to the beat of some pop classic after you failed your first semester’s final exams. There’s a video of it somewhere, but he won’t admit to the sin. You know it because you can hear him hyena-laugh in the hallway every so often as Bad Boy riots in the background.

Bokuto, with all the brilliantly rambunctious enthusiasm the world could give a single human being, added in every song he already had in his likes. All of which he sung with you on every trip until your voices hurt. He even added Mr. Brightside, reminding you of the time he screamed so loud during the chorus that he sounded like a donkey the rest of the day and into his next match. To this very day, the infamous ‘O ᴼO ᵒn ᵉ TᵒOᵘCʰ’ could be heard in the locker rooms by each teammate in unison.

You paused as the next song hit, mouth abruptly shutting as the two in the front recited, word-for-word,

“Man, fuck.”

“What's wrong Bo?”

“Man, these kids, man, talkin' shit, makin' me feel bad.”

“Man, fuck them kids, bro! Look around, hoots, look at life!”

“Man, you're right”

“Mmm, you see? You see this fine bitch right over here?” Kuroo’s long fingers pinched your cheek at the red light, laughing as you jokingly smacked it away.

“Yeah, woah...” Bokuto beamed at you.

“You see these trees man? You see this water?” You snorted as Kuroo’s hand waved to four-way intersection.

“I guess it is okay.”

“Come on, man, you got so much more to appreciate, man.”

“Man you know what, y-you're right...” The words, lyrics or otherwise, still brought a childish scrunch to the ace’s handsome face.

“You damn right I'm right,” Kuroo smirked, taking even the smallest bit of delight out of his perfected timing, “I can't remember a time I was god-damn wrong.”

“Man, thanks, Demon Cat.”

“Hey man, that's what I'm here for.”

Bokuto, half-joke-half-serious punched Kuroo’s bicep, eliciting a feral smirk as they went into the chorus. Bo’s arms crossed as he shook his shoulders to the beat. Kuroo threw down at the next red light, clapping to each beat. Just as the bass shook your heart in its chest, both players head-banged with all their might, car jerking with the force. You feared for the steering wheel and the threat of an airbag going off when both boys slam-drummed the vehicle’s surface. The sight of the two of them going absolutely feral elicited the brightest cackle from your belly.

They really knew how to turn your shittiest days into your new favorites. And you’d definitely be revisiting this playlist.

#i had fun with this one #🐈.kuroo #🦉.bokuto #🍯.hq #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#kuroo tetsurou #kotaro bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #hq koutarou #kotaro bokuto x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo testurou x reader #haikyuu x reader

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years

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Snowed In p5

I have an hour before work so instead of doing the responsible thing and cranking out my labs, I’m posting smutty fic. in my defense, I have none.

Pairing: Geralt x fem!reader

Warnings: smut. hella smut, unprotected sex, bit bitey, hair pulling? I’m new to writing smut so if there’s any more plz message me I really wanna know and be able to tag my shit accordingly.

Summary: How else does one get to sleep if not by fucking your friend that is totally not more than a friend? or Geralt finally does something about the tension between them?

There’s a bit of plot in here somewhere I swear. Not really, I just have a feeling G is competitive af. We’ll be back to our regularly scheduled emotionally indulgent programming next part so if you’re not down with the smut I’ll add a little summary on the beginning of the next one.

Part 4 here!

__________

Day thirty brought a restlessness that couldn't be soothed. If you weren't moving you felt like you were going to disintegrate to dust from the pent up energy.

You tried trudging circles around the barn in the snow, sprinting up and down the stairs, making Geralt spar with you until your muscles gave up and you collapsed, but you couldn't shake the need to move. You even went so far as to ask Geralt to hold you while you tried to sleep. You used the "it works for babies maybe it could calm me down" excuse and he must have bought it because he wasted no time pulling you into his arms. Regardless of how comfortably you fit tucked into his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, you only slept an hour or two.

Day thirty one was no different. Anxious, restless, and now pissy because of how tired you were. You paced most of the day, to Geralt's dismay. He finally ordered you to run the stairs because he couldn't "sit here and watch you walk a hole in the floor anymore". You'd rolled your eyes but you did it anyway, until you thought you might hurl. Then when the nausea passed you ran them ten times more for good measure. You even ate more than usual at dinner, hoping a full stomach would at least make you feel sluggish enough to stop moving.

Despite all this, you laid staring at the ceiling for hours, tapping your fingers on your ribs and wishing for even a wink of sleep.

Just when you were starting to feel lighter, ready to float off to blessed unconsciousness, you heard a deep moan and a giggle from the other side of the wall.

"Fuck me. I thought they were still fighting" You groaned, rolling over to face away from the wall and pulling your pillow over your ear.

Geralt grimaced, staring at the ceiling, "Made up an hour ago."

You snickered, "So you really hear all of it?"

He rolled his eyes, the movement just barely visible in the light of the dying fire, "Unfortunately, I can hear a room past them as well."

Another moan and the distinct sound of someone's ass getting slapped seemed to echo in the silence.

"I was so close to sleep" you sighed, silently wishing a curse on the neighbors.

Geralt frowned, you assumed because he heard something he'd rather not until he opened his mouth, "S'probly why they're so chipper."

"Hm?"

He glanced at you before elaborating, "All the… they're in a better mood because they actually sleep. After they… you know, fuck."

You snorted, praying he couldn't see the flush in your cheeks, "Is that how it works?" Your voice was dripping with sarcasm.

The neighbors were growing louder by the second, clearly so excited about the resolution of their fight that they didn't care if they woke the whole inn.

He shrugged, "Works for me."

His tone was too casual, too measured even for him. You narrowed your eyes in a desperate attempt to pull any more information out of the shadows on his face.

"To get to sleep you mean?" Your voice was nearly a whisper, tamped by what you thought he might be implying.

He hummed in agreement, finally turning to face you, his face completely unreadable, "Might calm you down."

If you'd wanted to play it cool your body betrayed you. Your heartbeat alone was a dead giveaway that his words got to you, and you didn't even want to know what he could tell with any other senses.

You blinked hard, trying to form a coherent sentence, "Ar- are you… uhm… offering?"

He propped himself up on an elbow and his entire demeanor changed, the usual mask of indifference replaced with a grin, "I am."

You heard a little voice in the back of your head yelling about how things could get messy but you shut it up, already feeling that coil tightening between your hips just from how he was looking at you.

You reached out to run a finger over his wrist, lightly tracing little figure eights over his skin, "I'd hate for you to regret it in the morning."

"I have a lot of regrets in life, very rarely do I regret sex."

He can tell. He's way too fucking confident not to know. Fuck it.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and looked up at him through your lashes, "Couldn't hurt to try."

He leaned over you, almost kissing you before moving to your ear, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispered, "Is that a yes?"

Fuck.

"Yes. Hell yes."

You felt the vibrations of the rumblings in his chest as he practically growled before nipping at your jaw. You gasped and grabbed onto the hem of his shirt, now that the tension had broken and you'd touched you finally could move.

He stopped you though, placing a soft kiss over the skin that stung from his bite before sitting back and pulling you with him, "Clothes. Off."

You obeyed immediately, shimmying out of every last stitch and letting out a soft moan as you saw him drop his small clothes.

He smirked, "That excited?" He asked as he resumed his position above you.

"Something like that. Your ass is great." You answered, not bothering with this charade of shyness anymore. He laughed softly, placing kisses on your neck and running his hand up your body to your chest. You moaned when he squeezed your tit but you yelped when he kissed his way down to the other one and licked at your nipple. He chuckled and took the nub between his teeth, biting down and pulling back just enough to earn another moan before he pressed his lips over the area and sucked.

"Ah fuck Geralt." One of your hands gripped his hair, but you didn't pull, not like you wanted to.

He left a trail of kisses to your other breast, "Pull all you want." He paused to circle your now extremely sensitive nipple with his tongue, "I like it." Before you could respond he bit the very tip and you moaned again, this time testing the waters with a light tug at his hair.

He hummed in response and continued his trail down your body.

You hadn't pegged him for the type to go down on his woman first, but oh how wrong you were. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing and exactly how it drove you wild.

He left little bites at your hip crease and on your inner thigh, coming closer to where you wanted him most, only to switch to your other hip.

"You're a fucking tease." You whined, breathless and so achingly turned on.

Almost before you finished your sentence, one of his hands spread your folds and he licked from your opening up over your clit.You shivered and gasped, tugging at his hair again.

He moaned against you and your eyes rolled back in your head, "Mmmmmm Geralt more. Please."

He obliged immediately, flicking his tongue over your clit in a pattern that made your whole body tingle and thighs squeeze together. Without missing a beat he pushed your legs apart and laid his arm over your hip, bringing his hand to your opposite thigh to hold you in place.

Still working your clit with his tongue he slowly pushed two fingers into you, curling and pumping at an annoyingly laid back pace. You bucked your hips up, or tried, and he chuckled, pulling his fingers away completely.

"Fuck you." You gasped, "That's just rude."

He licked over your opening with a broad tongue and pulled back, "Kinda the point, isn't it?"

"Geralt." You mewled in protest, pulling his hair again and earning a grunt in return before his mouth was back on your cunt. He added a third finger when he started again, stretching you out and damn near making you writhe. He coaxed moan after moan, whine after desperate whine from your lips and just before you came, he stopped completely.

Sitting back and surveying his work he grinned, "Not yet. You have to earn it."

Melitele's Tits. That's so hot.

You lurched forward, pushing him on his back and straddling his thighs, "Earn it? Like this?" You reached between your legs and gathered your own slick before gripping the base of his cock and pumping just as infuriatingly slow as he had gone earlier.

The way he groaned set your body on fire, making you shivered in anticipation. You couldn't wait anymore, you leaned forward, placing a hand on the center of his chest for balance and lined yourself up over his hips.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you sank down on his dick. Of course you knew he was big, but this? This was heaven. You savored every bit, lowering yourself as slowly as you could, your fingers curling to grip at the hair on his chest. His hands roamed over your thighs and hips, squeezing at what he could reach of your ass.

When you finally bottomed out your eyes fluttered closed and a low groan clawed its way out of your chest.

"Fuck , Y/N…" Geralt breathed, fingers digging into your flesh.

Your eyes snapped open, a devilish grin on your face, "What? Do you want me to move?"

Before he could answer you clenched around his cock, getting a gasp and gritted teeth in response.

"What was that? I didn't hear you."

He opened his mouth to respond but you snapped your hips up and back down as fast as you could, grinding your hips against his in small circles. Whatever he was going to say turned into a string of curses that only spurred you on. You placed your other hand on his chest, rocking your hips slowly forward and up but swiftly back down.

Geralt looked completely undone, his hair splayed out almost like a halo and the firey need in his eyes made you move faster. Your thighs started to ache and your moans were coming out more like desperate whimpers. You leaned back, bringing a hand to your clit and one to your breast. You felt his cock twitch inside you and bit your bottom lip, changing the direction of your hip circles.

With a growl he gripped your hips and held you down against him, sitting up and turning to sit on his heels.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed at his jaw, letting him hold you to him without moving, "Did I earn it?" You whispered, almost hoping you hadn't with how good it felt to just be filled by him.

He let loose a breathy laugh, "Fuck you."

You rocked your body closer to him, gripping his hair in one of your hands, "Oh gods please do."

He bucked his hips against yours driving your whole body up in the air, and pulled you back down with one hand at your hip and one wrapped behind your back holding onto your shoulder. He set a rough, fast pace and you cried out every time your hips slapped against his.

You felt yourself losing all the strength in your limbs, almost unable to keep hold of his shoulders, and that familiar tingle creeping up your spine.

"Mm-f- fuck I'm close."

"Good." Geralt growled, snapping his hips up somehow faster and harder, sending you hurtling over the edge of your orgasm. You yanked on his hair as your whole body was flooded with electric pleasure, leaving you gasping for air. He came right after you, moaning soft and low as you writhed on top of him.

As your high began to fade, you rocked your hips against his more methodically, working him through the last of his orgasm. You gently tugged at his hair to tilt his head back, placing soft kisses along his jugular and over his Adams apple. His arms wrapped around your waist and held you tightly to him as his breathing slowed. When you made your way up to his chin and jawline he leaned you back onto the bed, pulling out and flopping onto the mattress next to you.

It was deathly silent as the two of you caught your breath. The predicament you found yourselves in seemed to dawn on the both of you, only you saw absolutely no sign from Geralt how he felt about it.

Later. Don't ruin this. Talk about it tomorrow. Or never.

"Did we intimidate them?" You did your best to make it sound like a joke, pointing at the wall to indicate the silence.

He snorted, rolling onto his side facing you, "No idea. I was distracted."

You giggled, shimmying closer to him and tucking your head under his chin, "Yeah, thanks for that. Good distraction."

He draped an arm over your waist, "What high praise…"

"Ssshhhhh," you leaned back and placed a finger over his lips, "I'm trying to sleep here."

He hummed against your touch, lips thinning into a soft smile.

It would have been entirely natural for you to lean forward and kiss him, even expected in such a situation, but you couldn't. That crossed the friendship line, as if it wasn't already blurred beyond recognition. Instead you nuzzled into his chest, snaking your arm under his and holding him close, savoring every moment. After all, when the heartbreak eventually set in you'd need something to cling to, even if it was just the memory of his touch.

__________

Uhm some of yall wanted to be tagged in the next part and i stg i could cry with how happy that made me! If anyone else wants tagged just hmu 💕💕

@ab-haya @fire-in-her-veinz

part 6 here!

#its not romantic its pragmatic #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia fan fic #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x reader smut #geralt smut #geralt x reader #geralt x reader smut #geralt x reader fic #the witcher #the witcher smut #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fic #geralt fic #geralt oneshot

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hollenius · 4 years

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Talking Heads: Are These Guys Trying To Give Rock A Bad Name?

Having fun trawling the internet for more old interviews and things with different bands & musicians. Here’s a Talking Heads one from 1977.

Talking Heads: Are These Guys Trying To Give Rock A Bad Name?

Nick Kent, New Musical Express, 25 June 1977

TALKING HEADS: it's a term they use up in the high-rise skyscrapers that house all the cogs in the corporate machinery cranking out network television for the American people.

The big-wigs in the boardroom – the William Holdens and Robert Duvalls of Network land – have a name for the lowest common-denominator programme non-personalities – the newscaster, weather-reporters, and other old warhorses who sit head and shoulders directly on camera mouthing out their obligatory tasks. These are the "talking heads" of American TV land; utterly boring, but necessary.

Talking heads with greying hair, dabs of make-up and dandruff removed from the shoulders of their suit-jackets, they sit austerely informing the public of the nation's daily occurences – the rapes and murders, the military campaigns abroad, the latest government manouevres. No opinions, no subjective slant to their reports – they simply precis it down, feed it out to those millions of tubes and when it's over they go away, back to the bar or to the suburban home, wife and kids.

David Byrne, guitarist and singer for the Talking Heads, an American rock group, has a song that he wrote and performs entitled 'Don't Worry About The Government'. It usually gets played early on in the set, with no prefacing explanation – just Byrne's reedy high-pitched voice almost stammering "This next song is called..."

And every time he introduced it to an audience in England, certain factions would snigger or boo or howl derisively because Talking Heads after all are a NEW WAVE group and if you are a New Wave group you must write direct anti-status quo, sloganeering songs of dissent. Just like The Clash or Chelsea or...

But Byrne's song isn't like that at all.

It's about an ordinary man who owns an apartment in some American suburb and who lives a quiet, fairly inconsequential existence, going to work in the morning and returning in the evening, who gains pleasure from life simply through drinking wine with friends or reading a book. There is no hint of moral castigation, no hint of cynicism, Byrne just places himself in his character's psyche and explains himself through his song.

It's a rare talent this, something much closer to the art of the very best short-story writers, a talent that only Ray Davies and Randy Newman before him, out of all the thousands of post-war song-writers, have bothered to identify with and explore perceptively.

"I just thought," said Byrne, "that lyrics could be used to strip down conversations, just normal day-to-day converstions and dialogues, and strip away all the phoney embellishments and posturing right down to essentials so that they would actually say something directly, without having to throw in all the 'Oh yeah, baby' or 'Hey, bitch I'm coming to get ya right now' or...

"Pa-a-arty," chips in Jerry Harrison, the Talking Heads' keyboard player.

Everybody laughs.

NOT AN easy band to write about, these Talking Heads. They mystify arid confuse simply because they so patently lack any dint of the arch brand of mystique that forms a patented cloak for the rock star enigma. Four intelligent, straightforward individuals, the very straightforward nature of their music and their image is somehow unique to the genre they have chosen to work within.

Not that the press haven't attempted time and time again to write about them, almost always in flattering terms.

They emerged as a live attraction in the hot summer of 1975 when Manhattan's CBGB's had suddenly been designated the centre-point of all new-wave rock activity, and were immediately slotted in with the likes of Television, Patti Smith, The Ramones, and Heartbreakers as the pace-setters right there at the vanguard of this brave new scene. Convenient tags like 'punk' and 'art-rock' found themselves strange bed-fellows in numerous articles consummated by the inevitable bandying of the term 'minimalism'.

New York rock critics, having witnessed the ugly death of the New York Dolls brand of gashed-up rock, latched on fast to this new austerely dressed-down form of the music, and the Talking Heads, suddenly caught in the swell, found themselves holding down the cover of the prestigious Village Voice with a photograph taken at only their third gig. Inside was a rave-review of said show with an extensive article.

Since then, coverage has been as extensive as it has been perplexingly unforthcoming in regard to mere bottom line info on what the band were actually all about.

What was disclosed was that the band was a trio then, led by the angular, neurotic-looking Byrne who carried all guitar, vocal and composing chores, while the bass-player was a slight blonde-haired girl called Tina Weymouth whose basic feminist features were undermined by a slightly asexual manner. Drummer Chris Frantz was baby-faced and pleasantly effeminate.

Their music, though, seemed incapable of being pigeon-holed and continually presented reviewers with a daunting problem.

Having witnessed the band on four separate occasions over this last highly successful European tour, it became at once apparent that the care of Talking Heads' repertoire – principally Byrne's songs – is not something that casual acquaintance can unveil. At first, they intrigue as much as they bemuse, but the deeper you dig the more you uncover. Like Television, Talking Heads must be divorced from pigeon-holed surroundings because there is nothing currently existing in the rock context that they can be favourably compared to.

Byrne's melodies are so insidious that they often totally by-pass the conventional quarters that rock music usually attempts to stimulate, instead going deeper, often lodging themselves in your subconscious. One song, after I'd witnessed the band only once at the Rock Garden, somehow kept manifesting itself in my dreams – this strange, utterly disarming descending chord motif would haunt me until I'd wake up desperately trying to recall it. It was only later that I even got to learn the song's title, 'The Book I Read'.

THIS IS how the band's music works – in a way that transcends conventional avenues of 'rock criticism' where parallels to established musical forms become redundant and trite. When one has finally achieved some intimacy and contact with the repertoire, the music alone is overwhelming at times. One song – Byrne's 'I'm Not In Love' – twists and turns, its twined guitar rhythms chattering and spitting like snap-dragons with sudden unsettling changes, its chorus brash and pointedly announced – before it charges off, climaxing in a devastating one chord richochet of sound. Each song takes on a personality of its own as one becomes more and more acquainted – the jagged paranoid thrashings of 'What Is It?' full of technical malevolence, the richly textured abrasive changes of 'No Compassion', that utterly disarming motif to 'The Book I Read'.

Similarly the lyrics make themselves apparent in this same insidious fashion, via sudden dazzling couplets or single lines that grab you as Byrne's introvert-gone-psychotic delivery tortuously builds up and up, eyes reeling like wild horses in a flood, his pitching often totally awry but his sheer intensity galvanising because this man is truly grabbing hold of his songs, each and every utterance, like a drowning man grabbing straws.

Byrne's performance is, in fact, full of the tortured passion and gut-commitment that many of us were hoping for and found so disappointingly lacking in Tom Verlaine's recent shows in Britain. Like Verlaine, Byrne is totally the master of his chosen medium, yet there is an edge to Byrne that is so much more human.

Where Verlaine is oh-so calculatingly distant, Byrne's thrashing desperate need to communicate his songs grants his music a whole other dimension of sheer humanity and warmth a million light years removed from the cold arch-romanticism of Television's guiding light.

OFF-STAGE, sitting with his cohorts in Talking Heads, Byrne exudes all the cooped-up mannerisms of a caged bird. He seems to be suffering from some arch nervous defect that would need a constant ingestion of valium to assuage. Twitching almost, he sits hunched up in a chair, ungainly like a parody of look-alike Tony Perkins. When he talks, his voice is weak and reedy and often his attempts to explain certain facets of his songs – particularly his lyrics – lead him into weird tangential awkward ramblings that cause other members of the band, Tina Weymouth in particular, to open displays of ridicule which make him even more edgy. He looks embarrassed and bows his head slightly.

Observing him, I can't help feeling concerned for his obvious discomfort, as if any form of socializing causes the man to undergo real psychic pain. He later admits to the gross discomfort of what is really just a fairly casual conversation, and claims that performing affords him infinite more relaxation.

"I can express parts of my personality on stage that I would never dare do in any other context."

Byrne's past remains obscured by the haziness of his own recollections. He talks about working in art galleries in the past, though he didn't in fact paint, while he claims his previous vocation while in college was to write up detailed questionnaires, until song-writing became an infinitely more agreeable pastime.

In contrast, the other three members of Talking Heads carry themselves in this social set-up with an ease and general open-ness.

Tina Weymouth appears fairly disinterested at first, more concerned with scanning the pages of the latest Oui, but is suddenly forthcoming when a question is either directed her way or else grabs her attention. Chris Frantz seems perfectly in sync with the whole interview routine, lavishing over most of his answers with great and entertainingly 'camp' detail.

And then there is Jerry Harrison, the newest member in the group, a veteran of only six months or less, but who has already obviously orientated himself into the consortium with great alacrity. Harrison is the most locquacious of the band and, with Frantz, the most forthcoming. His history as a musician is already full of worthy fodder for discourse, since he started his career as an integral founding force with Jonathon Richman in the Modern Lovers, about whom his reminiscences are nothing if not extremely witty.

"Well, you probably know that we started the Modern Lovers as a real cause – y'know, we were anti-drugs for a start, due to the fact that at that time in the States all the kids were just oohing themselves on quaaludes. So we'd go onstage and start our sets with this number called 'I'm Straight' which would immediately cause all the audience to start throwing things – oh, rotten fruit, bottles, cans, anything – at us."

The Lovers' history was short due firstly to their corporate snooty attitude to playing clubs of the ilk of Max's Kansas City – "We didn't want to be associated with the N.Y. Dolls or this or that...so we never played anywhere" – plus the traumas that followed the band being signed by John Cale to Warner Bros, who after financing an album (produced by Cale – it was finally released last year by Beserkley) decided to drop the band, leaving them penniless in Los Angeles.

Even when the album was being made, Harrison claims there were problems.

"Well this was around the time when Jonathan was starting to want to write and sing only happy songs (laughs). So there'd be continual arguments between Cale and him over how we should sing certain numbers. Cale would be saying 'Now, Jonathon, I want you to sing this in a mean way. And Jonathon would just look at him, y'know – 'Mean? I won't sing mean! I don't feel mean!"

"And he (Richman) kept going through changes of direction. Like one time he'd be totally into the Velvet Underground and early Stooges, and then he was suddenly enamoured with Van Morrison's Astral Weeks and he'd want to alter his whole style. Also he's a total astrology freak. You know that song, 'Astral Plane'? Well he was always having these visions – or so he said – and writing songs about them. Things like....oh God (he starts laughing again) 'I saw you by, the waterway, the waterway, the waterway' – just on and on. We'd have to tell him to forget it."

After the Modern Lovers broke up, Richman briefly went onstage backed only by a bunch of kids beating rolled-up newspapers in time to his songs, before disappearing altogether for a long spell to (according to John Cale) lock himself in his bedroom.

When Harrison is asked whether he feels more comfortable being in Talking Heads than Richman's motley crew he simply sighs, "Infinitely."

MUCH OF the conversation is taken up with the subject of the British New Wave and how the remarkably civilised T. Heads have found themselves having to cope with the more agressive elements at their concerts, particularly as they've been supporting the head-banger's friend, The Ramones.

Seems the atmosphere has never actually soured and that circumstances have been pretty agreeable all the way along.

From the other new wave bands of this country, T. Heads claim not to have incurred any particular animosity.

"Only Rat Scabies has caused a scene," claims Weymouth. "He appeared backstage at the Greyhound in Croydon and tried to get one of us to fight him. When we showed ourselves to be totally disinterested in that course of action, he contented himself with spitting on the floor and walking out. I felt rather sorry for him."

Meanwhile back in New York, the band have yet to break out of the New York club circuit set-up they've been working in for at least the last two years.

A record deal with Sire (whose head, Seymour Stein, is the only executive to have fully committed himself to the New Wave, having also inked The Ramones, Richard Hell, and now, apparently, The Dead Boys, – a Cleveland pastiche of England's punk excesses) has produced the single 'Love Goes To Building On Fire', an addictive though comparatively slight song from the band's repertoire.

A Talking Heads album however is scheduled for September release produced by Tony Bongiovi and with five backing tracks already in the can. Ten tracks are scheduled – all Byrne originals including 'Pyschokiller', 'The Book I Read', 'No Compassion', 'Happy Day', and 'I'm Not In Love', the only unfortunate matter being the probable exclusion of the band's brilliantly terse rendering of Al Green's 'Take Me To The River'.

The band are still a guaranteed sell-out at C.B.G.B.'s on any given night, a not inconsiderable feat as many other similarly prestigious local bands are unable apparently to do the same – and on their own minor league waterfront they've gauged a strong cult audience.

But then there is something extremely addictive about this band's music – potent enough to make Byrne an object of paranoid fear in the eyes of Tom Verlaine (who according to Weymouth is very nervous of Byrne's status on the New York scene – as perverted a compliment as anything that can be divined from Verlaine's psyche one supposes). Meanwhile Byrne is also considered the most singularly brilliant new songwriter currently in the States by John Cale, and even Lou Reed has lent a sizeable quota of suspiciously paternal advice.

Weymouth: "Yeah, I'd say he was actually genuinely trying to help us. I wouldn't say he was trying to rip us off, for example."

Byrne: "That's not true."

Weymouth: "How can you say that, David? I mean..."

Byrne: "Because he told me he ripped some of my ideas off. Not that I'm angry or anything."

How did the...uh gentleman go about this paternal business then?

"God...he'd invite us round to his apartment and insult us for a solid hour, particularly me. He'd always insult the clothes I was wearing, or my shoes. Then after that, he'd start to be more reasonable and actually have an agreeable conversation with us."

Byrne goes silent for a minute and then, for the first time, he seems calm and relaxed.

"Do you want to know...I'll tell you how much we've come on in the last two years, the real symbol of progress in Talking Heads, Now I can go round to Lou Reed's apartment and I can be rude to him!"

#talking heads #articles #david byrne #jerry harrison #tina weymouth #chris frantz #new musical express #nme #1970s

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glenncoco4 · 4 years

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The Moon

A/N: Second to last chapter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mount Ruapehu, New Zealand

She slowly wakens, stretching out her limbs as a soft smile spreads to her face. They were so tired when they got to their cabin last night what with being on a plane for over 14 hours having caught the red eye from LA to New Zealand. As their wedding reception was winding down, yesterday? Was it technically yesterday if there’s a 15 hour time difference. Anyway, she and Marty hadn’t planned on doing anything extravagant for their honeymoon but her parents and Callen and Sam had surprised them with an all expenses paid trip to a snow covered cabin in one of the only places in the world that snowed in September.

Slowly opening her eyes, she turns and is immediately met with two beautiful cerulean eyes, those that belong to her husband matter of fact. Her husband.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

“Good morning, hubby.”

A grin spreads to his lips as he closes the tiny gap that separates he and his wife. His wife. He burrows his head into her neck, inhaling the wonderful scent that is so uniquely her. They may have been jet lagged when they arrived last night but not enough to stop them from immediately making good use of the walk-in shower with out of this world water pressure and a perfect view of the snow falling outside. “So I saw this little bakery when we came in last night, I thought about going and getting some breakfast.”

“Aw, but I’m comfy.”

“How about you stay right here and I’ll go?”

“But it’s our honeymoon, shouldn’t we be doing stuff together.”

“Oh, we will be but if we’re gonna keep up our energy we’ll need sustenance.”

“Good point.”

He quickly maneuvers himself, now hovering above her. A look of awe crossing his features as he looks into her mismatched chocolate orbs. God how he loves this woman. “I love you so much.”

“I may love you, too.” She tries to play it off like his words are indifferent to her and not turning her insides into a raging inferno of passion.

“May?” Once he sees that playful spark in her eye, he attacks. His lips find their way to her neck and then her cheeks and then cover her face in sloppy wet kisses.

She can’t help but giggle as he continues to assault her with little gifts of love all over her skin. “Okay! Okay! You win. I absolutely love you, Martin Deeks.”

“Thought so.” He beams placing one last kiss to her lips before rolling off her and out of the bed.

Her eyes follow him as he gets out of bed giving her a full view of his glorious golden tone ass. “Dammmn, boy.”

“Oh, you like that do ya?”

“Once you get back with my donuts I’ll show you just how much.”

At those a fire is lit under him as he quickly dresses and runs out the door but not before giving his wife one more kiss before he goes.

XXXX

It’s been over an hour and he still hasn’t came back yet. She called him after hour one and discovered that he got so lost in the scenery that he hadn’t realized how truly far the bakery was from where they were staying. He had just finally arrived at the shop and she’s betting that there was quite a long line for breakfast which would explain why he’s not back yet.

At the sound of her phone chiming she smile when his face lights up on the screen. “Hey, where are you?”

“There was a ridiculously long line. But good news, just as I got to the counter they brought out a fresh batch of cronuts.”

“Okay, now my mouth is watering.”

“My mouth waters every time I see you.”

“Well every time I see you my lips get wet and not the ones on my face.”

“Fuuuck. Baby, you can’t be saying stuff like that when I’m in public.”

“Think of it as motivation for you to get back faster.”

“I’ll be there in 30 minutes!”

“I’ll be waiting.”

He can feel the tightness in his pants grow at the sultry tone of her voice.“Oh, dear God.”

She can hear him beginning to pick up his pace before he hangs up, making her laugh. Just as Kensi sits her phone on the table there’s a knock at the door. She knows he’s a fast walker but he’s not that fast.

The brunette comes face to face with the pixie redhead who checked them in last night. They found out that she and her boyfriend Eric run the set of cabins for her parents who decide to move back to the states but didn’t want to get rid of the business. “Hi, I just brought some more towels and wanted to check and make sure everything is good.”

“Yes, it’s amazing, Nell. Thank you.” Kensi offers her a friendly smile, accepting the fluffy towels.

“Oh and I didn’t get to tell you congratulations.”

“Yes you did, last night.”

“I wasn’t talking about your marriage.”

“Then what-“ She freezes when she realizes what the other woman is implying.

Nell cringes when she sees the brunette’s reaction. There you go again, Nell, opening your big mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, you just have this glow and I noticed the way you place your hand on your abdomen like you’re…I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“I take it you didn’t know.”

“Things have been so crazy the past few weeks, I actually hadn’t thought about it.”

“Well if you need anything just let me know.”

“Thank you.” Kensi gives her a barely there smile before closing the door and walking back over to the bed. Her brow furrows as she continues to try and deny what may be going on inside her body. “I can’t be pregnant…or…OH MY GOD!”

30 minutes later

Her attention turns from the snow falling outside the windows at the sound of the door creeping open. As soon as he steps in her eyes go wide, he’s shivering and covered in snow. “Oh, my god, Marty.” She gets up off the couch and all but runs over to her husband shedding him of his jacket and taking the bag of food out of his hand.

He can’t stop his teeth from chattering as his body tries to adjust to the warm room. “Told you it’d only be 30 minutes.”

“Baby, what happened?” Kensi cranks up the heat and walks over to the kitchen taking the boiling kettle of water and a mug, adding a few packets of hot chocolate mix.

She grabs the mug and then his arm quickly pulling him over to the couch and makes him sit before running over to their bed to grab the heavy blanket and comforter to warm her freezing husband up.

His body burrows into her warmth as he kicks his shoes off and cuddles into her. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She places a kiss to the top of his head, pulling them back to lay on the couch.

It’s a few minutes before she can finally work up the courage to tell him pretty shocking, but with the beautiful snow falling heavily outside, the fireplace crackling and their bodies clinging on to one another this is a pretty spectacular way to break some news. “So I have to tell you something.”

His head rests against her chest, his eyes watching the millions of tiny white flakes fall from the sky. “Don’t tell me you have another husband.”

“No, you dork. You’re my only husband.” Her brow furrows as she thinks for a minute. “Actually there were some pretty wild college nights so-”

He playfully pinches her side, wanting to move on from this conversation before the green monster rears it ugly head.

“Anyway. About 30 minutes before you got here there was a knock at the door and it was Nell, she brought us some towels and then congratulated me and said that I was glowing.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Not just that type of glowing, babe.”

“What do you mean?”

“She said I had a newlywed glow, yes, but there was something else.”

“What?”

“Lets just say I had to run across the street to the drug store for a certain item and when I used it it was positive.”

He sits up just enough so that he can look into her eyes. “You mean-“

A weary smile crosses her face unsure how he’ll take the news. They hadn’t really talked about kids before. “I’m pregnant.”

“Really?”

“I know it’s fast but-“

She’s surprised when his eyes begin to water and he bites his lips trying to control his emotions. But the strain in his voice gives him away. “Are you kidding?!”

“No.”

His lips crash into hers as he limbs wrap around her body, clinging to her. Places a quick peck to her lips before getting up and running over to the sliding glass door which confuses her until he steps out onto the balcony and yells at the top of his lungs. “WE’RE HAVING A BABY!”

She bites her lip as she watches the love of her life run back and forth across the wooden floor shouting for all of New Zealand to hear. But its only a few minutes before he’s running back inside to find warmth and take his place right next to his wife whose spread out on the couch. Yeah, life’s just full of surprises.

#Densi #Densi Fanfic #Kensi Deeks #Marty Deeks #AU #Meant to Be #NCIS: LA

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frobster · 4 years

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To Court a Little Spider: Chapter 1

Here it is, the winterspider a/b/o littlespace fic that I've taken forever writing! Chapter 1 is only 2k words so it really should not have taken me so long, but alas.

You're always welcome to comment, talk in the tags, and send me asks about these two!! I thrive on feedback and people offering up other ideas ♡

The ao3 link is here , you're also welcome to leave feedback and ideas there as well.

Enjoy!

☆☆☆

Everyone had their own ways of coping with stress. Some people went to the gym, some made art, some cooked, some tinkered. There was always a flurry of activity on the compound with everyone either gearing up for or winding down from their missions. Peter still lived with his aunt even as he went to college since they didn’t want to pay that extra money for housing. And while he probably could afford it, given his superhero salary, he secretly just wanted to stay home where he had May’s constant support and familiar surroundings.

There was enough stress in Peter’s life between being a college student and being a superhero that he didn’t want to throw anything new into the mix. But he still had to contend with being an omega and all the uncertainties that came with his designation. His bedroom was a special space where he could go to de-stress and avoid some of the triggers and annoyances that always seemed to invade his life.

When puberty hit years ago and Peter presented as an omega, he already felt sensitive to the fast-paced world around him. Getting bit by the radioactive spider and having his senses cranked up even higher was a painful adjustment that he still struggled with some days. It all became even worse during his heats, when May had to practically sound-proof and scent-proof his room to help him keep from getting too overwhelmed.

But for the most part, Peter had his own way of coping that helped him just like everyone else. He was a little hesitant about telling the team at first, worried people would react poorly. There was a lot of secrecy for a while, sneaking around and only letting himself relax either when he was alone on the compound or when he was home with May. His aunt knew and she supported him as well as she could, but she knew he needed a more personal, intimate form of care that she was unable to provide.

Peter had some sort of naive hope that once he was open about his coping method with the rest of the team, he could find someone willing to offer that level of care. Someone who could hold him and comfort him, take care of him in every way. He longed for someone to be both his partner and his caregiver; to tuck him in for naps and take him to bed for reasons other than sleeping.

As time passed and these needs grew, Peter didn't find the same level of calm or peace in his normal activities. Puzzles became tedious, coloring became boring, his snacks didn't hold that same novelty as they used to. He stopped allowing himself to be soft and tried to force himself to muscle through his stress. Whether the stress came from classes, from fighting petty crime, or just from being a pedestrian in New York City. Stress was a constant input in Peter's life and it didn't take long for him to feel close to crumbling.

So when a day came when the majority of the team was finally at the compound, since it seemed impossible to get everyone in the same place at the same time, Peter requested a meeting. He wouldn’t tell them what the meeting was for, but he stressed its importance and told them to take what he said as seriously as possible.

While everyone assembled in the common room, Peter paced around. He had to burn off his restless anxiety somehow or he would end up chickening out. This was such an important part of his life and how he handled his stress, he wouldn’t be able to handle them rejecting him.

But finally everyone was there, and even seemed a little worried about him.

“Okay, so, I know everyone here has their ways of coping with stress and all that,” he started, no longer pacing but still fidgeting in place.

Steve and Bucky were sitting side-by-side on a two-person couch, and Natasha, Clint, and Bruce were sitting on a larger couch. Tony, Sam, Thor, and others were off working elsewhere. He felt he could trust the people who were gathered around so his fear lessened slightly as they nodded in understanding.

“Well,” Peter continued, hesitating slightly. “Um. The way I typically cope with my stress, anxiety, all that, is..” He trailed off again and shrugged. May took to it so well. She didn’t quite understand at first, but they did research together and she tried her best. That was no guarantee the others would take it just as well.

“You can tell us,” Steve prompted gently, giving Peter a reassuring smile. Peter nodded and took a deep breath before continuing.

“Okay. I regress. Like, age regressing,” he finally admitted, his scent spiking with anxiety when he finally said it out loud. Bucky and Natasha both shifted and sat up, leaning forward like they wanted to reach out and reassure Peter. Their alpha instincts were likely screaming at them to comfort the distressed omega, and Bucky looked like he was fighting particularly hard to stay in his seat.

“If you guys don’t know what that is, that’s understandable. It isn’t exactly a popular thing. And because of that, I’ve been worried about telling you guys. There‘s a big stigma around age regressing and littlespace and all those similar topics, and I didn’t want you guys to hate me or be disgusted or uncomfortable with it. But I hate having to leave every time I get stressed out, and I'm stressed out all the time.

“May knows, she’s been with me from the beginning with all this. We did our research together and she helped me figure this all out. But she has her own life too and our schedules don’t line up very often so she can’t really take care of me like I need. I don’t want to be a burden so you guys don’t have to feel some sort of need to take care of me, I just wanted to let you guys know before you catch me, I dunno, hiding in a blanket nest with apple slices and watching Disney Kids wondering what the hell was wrong with me.”

Peter finally took a deep breath after his rambling. His scent was still stressed and his cheeks went red both from embarrassment and from talking for so long with barely taking a breath. Clint was nodding in understanding, Bruce didn’t look all that surprised, Steve looked thoughtful. Natasha and Bucky still looked like they wanted to comfort Peter somehow, and there seemed to be an unexpected glint of compassion in Bucky’s eyes as he looked at Peter. That look didn’t help his blush fade at all, and he started fidgeting in place again as he waited for an answer.

“Well, that’s alright,” Clint finally said, looking completely relaxed. Natasha glanced over at Clint and smiled before she relaxed too, reaching out a hand to rest on his knee.

“Yeah, there’s nothing wrong with that. We’ll do anything you need, anything to help,” she added.

Seeing the pair so relaxed and accepting immediately put the thought of caring parents into Peter’s head, and he was actually surprised at himself for having such a reaction. But he managed to nod, and he started to feel a little encouraged too. If they voiced their acceptance, hopefully the others would follow their lead.

“I agree. Age regression is a relatively normal way of coping with extreme stress, which you seem to have,” Bruce said, somehow being both clinical and reassuring at the same time. Peter smiled at his answer.

“Whatever helps, kid,” Steve finally said with his own smile. Steve was the only other omega in the room and his acceptance actually helped Peter the most. He wanted them to have some solidarity, some sort of connection.

The only person who had yet to respond was Bucky. Peter turned to look at him, nerves creeping back into him. He fidgeted and picked at the hem of his shirt, unsure how he would react if Bucky said anything negative. The others had all accepted him, but Bucky had been a wild card ever since he joined the team and Peter didn’t know what to expect.

“You said we didn’t need to feel obligated to take care of you. But do you want us to take care of you?” Bucky asked. His tone was level enough that Peter wasn’t sure how he should answer, but that gentle look was still on his face so Peter decided to be completely honest rather than attempting to pick the ‘right’ answer.

“Yeah, yeah I would like that. May can’t really drop everything and rush home when I want someone to make mac and cheese for me,” Peter answered with a slight shrug.

Clint laughed under his breath and Steve grinned. Bucky was the one who looked thoughtful this time, and he nodded slowly as he looked over Peter. The attention made him shy away and he turned back to the other couch instead. Until Bucky spoke up again.

"Is there anything in particular you would want from us?" Bucky was the only one still leaning forward and he seemed like he was making mental notes of everything Peter said.

There was a spark of hope in Peter's chest but he wouldn't let it grow yet. Bucky had never been particularly attentive to him. They got along as teammates do, but he wouldn't really call them friends, not like MJ and Ned.

"Uh, um.. I guess just.. be there for me? I don't like being alone when I regress," Peter stammered out. He did want more, he wanted to truly be cared for. But he wasn't about to outright ask for that when he just admitted to his regression.

Bucky nodded in thought, only focused on Peter and what he was saying. The rest of the room could've been empty for all he acknowledged the other people there. Peter found himself swaying in place like he was drawn to Bucky, had an urge to step closer, but he fought it back. That wasn't appropriate. Bucky was likely only asking these questions so the others also had the information.

“Of course. We won't leave you alone. Is there anything we should get for you, so we’re prepared? You mentioned mac and cheese, apple slices, blanket forts. Those are easy enough to get. You could send us a list, or just leave one out. I’m sure it’ll be obvious enough when someone stumbles across it,” Bucky added with a smile, finally officially showing his acceptance.

The relief that flooded through Peter was palpable even to Clint and Bruce, the two betas in the room. Everyone smiled and Peter nodded as he visibly perked up, his whole mood lifting as he realized that everyone was okay with his coping mechanism and were completely willing to help him.

It was a surprise to have Bucky so willing to help, so eager to help somehow. Even if he would only be gathering information and working behind the scenes since he never seemed very tactile or outwardly caring, Peter appreciated it.

“Yeah!” Peter’s voice cracked and he blushed again at his own excitement, especially since he didn't want to dive in too quickly, but Bucky laughed and shook his head, looking completely adoring of the young omega. “Yeah, I can make a list. Then you guys gotta find it,” he added with his own grin.

Peter lingered in place for a moment in case anyone had any questions before darting off again. He grabbed his backpack, since he did bring some of his supplies in case everything went well. Since it was still nice outside, he intended to lay out a blanket and sit under a tree, maybe read or maybe nap until it got too dark to be outside.

He intended to start his list, and maybe make one of activities too. Maybe puzzles would be more interesting again. Maybe he could put his drawings up on the common room fridge with colorful magnets. The possibilities swirled in his head and his chest fluttered with warmth. Peter felt hopeful, relaxed, far less terrified about the future and finding a new way to cope.

The meeting went well and he was actually looking forward to telling the others so he wouldn’t have to hide or awkwardly try to explain himself if they unknowingly found him in littlespace since he sometimes struggled with words when he regressed. There was just one thing that he wasn’t entirely sure about with going forward: Why did Bucky react the way he did?

☆☆☆

@leisurelypanda @spider-lovin

@problematic-trauma @quietgayguy

#winterspider #bucky x peter #peter x bucky #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #peter parker #little!peter #omega!peter #daddy!bucky #alpha!bucky #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o #uh i think that's all i need lmao #my writing #tcals

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creativity-is-rebellion · 4 years

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More Top 20 Must-See Horror Movies

Especially now we are in isolation, who doesn’t crave a good horror movie to watch? To that purpose, I have created yet another top 20 must-see horror movies, along with why you should be watching them. So get into your comfy clothes and blanket, grab some popcorn, and settle in to watch these horror gems (WARNING: May contain spoilers).

1) Ginger Snaps (2000)

I first saw this movie when I was fifteen years old, and, watching it recently, I was still impressed how it handles the perils of transitioning from teenhood to womanhood. Ginger Snaps follows the story of two outcast sisters, Ginger (Katharine Isabelle) and Brigitte (Emily Perkins), in the mindless suburban town of Bailey Downs. On the night of Ginger's first period, she is savagely attacked by a wild creature. Ginger Snaps is a terrifying movie with good character development, acting is convincing and it has a fast-paced story line. If you're into well-done horror movies Ginger Snaps is the movie for you. It is one of the best modern werewolf movies I have seen.

2) Annihilation (2018)

Drawing on mythology and body horror, Annihilation is an intelligent film that asks big questions and refuses to provide easy answers. It is Sci-fi horror at its best, boasting a very intriguing and unique idea whilst entertaining the viewer throughout the film. Definitely a must-watch.

3) Green Room (2015)

A punk rock band becomes trapped in a secluded venue after finding a scene of violence. For what they saw, the band themselves become targets of violence from a gang of white power skinheads who want to eliminate all evidence of the crime. Influenced by exploitation movies of the 1970s (and punk music of the 1980s), this horror-thriller is rooted in a gripping, grisly kind of realism without resorting to lazy coincidence or stupidity. This is again a fresh take on horror and worth a view.

4) 1922 (2017)

I learned from a great film critic many years back that your own best judgement of a movie is best discovered when you realise that you are still thinking of it many days later. This Stephen King film stays true to the iconic master with all the tell-tale signs of a Kings classic: A haunting grimness that lingers throughout the movie, a tragedy and of course, outstanding performances. The mother that returns from the dead leaves you in a crazy suspense of whether it is simply a dream, a man’s demented insanity, or an actual reality. Thomas Jane’s performance was stellar and totally believable as a farmer in rural America in 1922. He actually takes you through the movie as if you were part of him and what is going on. The message that Stephen King leaves you with is dreadfully powerful of how greed can destroy all. Definitely worth the watch, especially for Stephen King fans.

5) Evil Dead (1981; remake 2013)

Both versions of this movie are great, but I have a special fondness for the original, which was Sam Raimi’s directorial debut. The camerawork is amazing for a low-budget film, and the creepy atmosphere is eerily accurate. We feel Ash’s pain when his friend, sister and girlfriend are one-by-one changed into Deadites, and the ending keeps you guessing, and wanting, a sequel. I am quite a fan of the Evil Dead franchise actually, and have just finished watching the TV adaptation Ash vs. Evil Dead. I’m savouring the last episodes, and am sad that it got cancelled. I look forward to more from this franchise, hopefully in the not-to-distant future.

6) Get Out (2017)

This film is unique, telling the tale of young black man who meets his white girlfriend’s parents for the first time. Jordan Peele’s film delivers a chilling satire of liberal racism in the US. More than just a standard-issue thriller, this brutal, smart movie is impeccably made, as well as surprising, shocking, and funny, while also offering a compassionate, thoughtful look at race. Expect only the very best a film has to offer, with a nasty twist at the end that you won’t see coming.

7) Hell Night (1981)

One of the best things about this movie which follows fraternity and sorority pledges who spend the night in a mansion haunted by victims of a family massacre is that it stars legendary Scream Queen of The Exorcist fame, Linda Blair. Other than that, prepare for a fun, wild ride, the way every good slasher movie should be.

8) Insidious Part 2 (2013)

I actually enjoyed this sequel more than the first movie, as it was less plodding and more action-packed, with an intriguing antagonist in the form of the mysterious “Bride in Black,” who turns out to be the evil spirit of serial killer Parker Crane, who, as we know from the previous movie (SPOILER ALERT) has taken over the body of Josh Lambert, and is fighting for control of his soul. I enjoyed seeing the return of Elise Rainier, who was (SPOILER ALERT AGAIN) killed off in the previous movie. James Wan directed this second helping even more masterfully than the first. A must-watch.

9) Sleepaway Camp (1983)

This is a campy slasher gem, where they cast real teenagers, which elevated the drama of the plot somewhat. Sleepaway Camp tells the story of a young girl named Angela who goes to Camp Arawak with her cousin Ricky. Once the two arrive at camp, a series of events/killings leads the campers to discover that there is a killer on the loose. Sleepaway Camp is not in any way intense or fast paced. However, even though many initially might look at as a “rip off” slasher film, the movie does get creative when it comes to the brutal killings and certain aspects to the film that no one saw coming. Including the jaw-dropping twist at the end. I’m not giving it away. You just have to watch it.

10) Cold Prey (Fritt Vilt) (2006)

This movie takes full advantage of its snowy, secluded set-pieces, using Norway’s harsh winter landscape to masterfully build tension and heighten the sense of isolation. As horror movies go, Cold Prey is a slow-starter, committing the first third of its running time to investigating the signs of violence scattered throughout the hotel, allowing the characters to theorise about what pernicious acts may have taken place before the hotel’s abandonment. It begins at the intriguing yet deliberate pace of a psychological horror film as the sequestered friends, initially inebriated and giggly, explore the hotel and sharing secrets, but the movie’s party-hard atmosphere bursts open at the 40-minute mark to reveal a black horror centre. Slick and stylish, Cold Prey is a genuine pleasure to watch.

11) The Hills Have Eyes (1977; remake 2006)

Even if it echoes a better film (namely, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre), the original movie is still an important one to view for lovers of the horror genre. This is a sometimes ghastly - and occasionally absurd - shocker that really gets under one's skin. Though many critics initially despised the original outing, it has since been called one of the best horror movies of the 1970s. Scary-movie specialist Wes Craven made this viscerally-violent feature on a low budget, and some horror connoisseurs call it his best. Ultimately the "normal" people strike back with a ferocious blood-lust they didn't know they had, and the question is how much a "civilised" person can be pushed before one becomes a savage. Are the Carters really all that much "better" than Jupiter and his spawn? That is a question that you, as the audience member, are required to ponder.

12) The Dawn of the Dead (2004)

This remake of George A. Romero's 1978 sequel to Night of the Living Dead soups up the zombies, cranks up the gross factor to 11, and has a lot of cheeky in-jokes about its predecessor. In comparison with the original, out are the shrieking blondes and rampaging looters, in are smart, controlled Ana (Sarah Polley as a believable nurse not afraid to wield a fire poker) and Kenneth (Ving Rhames), who is exactly the kind of cop you want walking beside you if you are facing scores of the undead.

The zombies are a bit spryer in this film, and the pregnancy of one of the main characters is not the life-giving promise it was in the first movie. But the ending is what differs most from the original. If you're a fan of the horror genre, then this flick is a welcome, if derivative, fright-fest in the school of Romero's classics.

13) The Cabin in The Woods (2011)

What starts out as another five-band teen getaway to a cabin in the woods ends up becoming a fresh take on the trope, with puppeteers behind what is taking place, in a twisted game of Choose Your Adventure. The ending is fittingly grim, but you won’t be disappointed. Definitely worth one hour and thirty-five minutes of your time.

14) The Babadook (2014)

The feature debut of writer-director Jennifer Kent is not just genuinely, deeply scary, but also a beautifully told tale of a mother and son, enriched with layers of contradiction and ambiguity. It presents grief as a demon, questions reality, and creeps out the viewer by making psychopathology seem like something that could happen to anybody. The style of the film is not teasing exactly - it's too sad and lonely - but there is certainly a hair-pulling mixture of glum laughter and vast apprehension. Is the demon real? Does it matter? That’s for you to judge. Either way, if it’s in a word, or if it’s with a look, you can’t get rid of the Babadook.

15) Suspiria (Original and the Remake - 1977 and 2019 respectively)

Suspiria is a baroque piece of esoteric expressionism that you enter - and exit - without understanding so much as feeling. It's always fascinating to watch; the thrills and spills are so classy and fast that the movie becomes in effect what horror movies seemed like when you were too young to get in to see them. Director Dario Agento works so hard for his effects -- throwing around shock cuts, coloured lights, and peculiar camera angles -that it would be impolite not to be a little frightened. This entry stands out as it is a visually beautiful horror movie, a bright fantasy that lives off its aesthetic. If you are a horror fan and haven’t seen this movie yet, then you’re not living right. The remake is also worth a watch, something that is oftentimes unique in the horror genre.

16) A Quiet Place (2018)

This gripping, clever monster movie is one of those rare genre treats that seizes on a simple, unique idea and executes it so perfectly and concisely that it elicits satisfying squeals of delight. It's directed and co-written by Krasinski, who's best known for his work in comedy but translates his experience in that genre to the expert building and releasing of tension here. A Quiet Place is, in many ways, like an extended classic horror movie sequence, such as famous ones in The Birds or Aliens, wherein the heroes must try not to disturb packs of resting monsters.

At the same time, Krasinski uses his quiet moments like music, ranging from moments of restful beauty -- including a father-son trip to a waterfall, where it's noisy enough that they can talk and even shout -- to moments of pause. A loud noise can cause a jump, but it's immediately followed by tension and dread: Will the creatures come this time? The real beauty is the movie's primal quality, based on the most basic elements of life, such as survival and protection of the species. No explanation is given for the monsters' existence; they, like us, are just here. Images of water, sand, bare feet, crops, and plant life serve to underline the theme of life itself. A few overly familiar horror movie clichés keep it from being perfect, but otherwise A Quiet Place is so good that it will leave viewers speechless.

17) The Exorcist (1973)

Once famously dubbed ‘the most terrifying movie ever made,” this movie is steeped in urban legend, especially concerning the unfortunate happenings that occurred when it was being made.

If you think your teen is ready for this shocking film, keep in mind that some audience members in the '70s reportedly fainted after seeing Dick Smith's grisly makeup effects on Blair. In some extreme cases, viewers even required psychiatric care. Also, the moans, snarls, and profane utterances from Regan (most are actually the dubbed-in voice of a well-known older actress, Mercedes McCambridge) amount to some of the most chilling audio ever done for film.

Thanks in part to Linda Blair's wrenching, Oscar-nominated performance, The Exorcist was a huge hit, earning back 10 times its $10 million budget (a then-lavish sum, outrageous for a "mere" horror flick). Movie historians cite it (along with The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) as the conclusive end of old-school spook shows featuring Dracula and Frankenstein and bobbing rubber bats. If you haven’t watched it yet, you may have your horror movie fan card revoked.

18) The Final Destination Franchise (2000 - 2011)

If I had to list all of the movies in the Final Destination franchise in order of quality, I would say 5, 1, 2, 3, and 4. Fourth instalment withstanding, the series is a formidable addition to the horror genre, as the invisible killer, Death Itself, stalks its victims and kills them off in creatively gruesome ways after they initially cheat death. The fifth addition contains an awesome twist at the end which in hindsight you should have seen coming throughout the entire movie. Pay close attention. The only downside is (SPOILER ALERT) that none of the characters throughout the series really survive.

19) Let the Right One In (Lat den Ratte Komma In) (2008)

Please watch the Swedish version, and power through the subtitles. This is a horror movie that is tragic on multiple levels, as it deals with a lonely and bullied boy who so happens to live next door to a pubescent vampire. When her benefactor dies, we see how the main character’s life will also unfold, and what lies in his future. A must-see film that is more than just your average horror movie.

20) Terrifier (2017)

This movie definitely gets back to basics by paying homage to the original slasher classics. Art the Clown, who we are originally introduced to in the 2013 movie All Hallow’s Eve (also worth a watch), is a vicious horror movie villain who kills just for kicks. He also subverts the horror movie trope by using a weapon which was previously considered off-limits to horror movie villains, especially those with supernatural abilites (mostly, anyway). This movie also contains one of the bloodiest deaths in recent horror movie history. I like the use of practical effects over the often-overdone CGI. What is Art the Clown? Deranged killer? Demonic entity? Who cares? Its all good fun. Watch it now on Netflix.

I’ll probably be back again some time in the future with a further 20 horror movies that are worth a watch, because there are so many of them. To everyone, take care during these uncertain times.

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 5 years

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Fanon characterization of the Calypso twins between me and The Wild West Pyro:

We both have the strong sinking feeling that the twins are slowly going to lose it as the game goes on, so here’s our collaborated analysis of the two:

I’ll be in non-cool text, while The Wild West Pyro will be in italics, for easier distinction between us. [There will be slight edits and changes for cohesion]

“It would be pretty interesting if we found out the Calypsos/the cult started out with 'good intentions'.”

“Hell, you can see the populism kicking in there.What did the writers say? Ah. "Your poor bandits! You're kicked around and nobody likes you, but we can give you a purpose in life! We can make you feel appreciated and loved!" [This is a reference to the Danny Homan interview] Something of that line.”

“oh yeah! the twins are also providing them with food and weaponry. i mean i can see why a bandit desperate for something better would follow them.”

“I'm guessing how this goes: The Twins start off by winning people over by talking about how they want Pandora to be finally at peace after endless war and giving the bandits a new life where they're treated like actual people. Then once they've got enough people, they say that the Raiders have to go, the corporations have to go, with the Vaults seized the universe will see no more war. Actually, I'm predicting rn that they have a very, very cult-like end goal in terms of IRL parallels.What if they choose to "cleanse" the universe with whatever power Tyreen possesses? And once everything standing in their way is gone, they can create this ideal utopian peaceful universe where there's no corporations and no more fighting. Meanwhile the Eridians are panicking because they know it's a doomed plan and the Vaults do not work like that.”

“[this is very much a] large scale Opportunity situation. literally reverse uno card as to what jack was attempting”

“Yep. Paradise for the common man bandit. OTL parallels to what usually sparks communist revolutions or popular revolutions in general. So yeah, Tyreen could very easily justify herself in that she genuinely wants to bring peace to the universe, with all means necessary. Of course, internally, the Twins just want to be gods and play at being them and hold onto their power as absolute rulers presiding over an eternally-grateful populace.”

“definitely sounds like two teenage cult leaders to me ngl. i could see them not being too secure in themselves (behind the vvv confident personas they put on) and constantly second guessing themselves and reassuring that they're doing this for everyone's own good even as things just keep getting worse and worse. could [have] a tie-in to whatever tragic backstory they might have”

“Yep and yep. And there's this internal fear that they don't know what being a god entails, if they'll lose sense of who they are or not... but put that aside. All for the greater good! I'm actually thinking about this. People note that the Twins are basically streamer critiques, which is a yes. But if you want to take them to serious universe-spanning villain territory, I think that they'll absorb the knowledge from Elpis at one point. And they start to become more detached and more frightening, and a lot more eloquent as they really start becoming gods in the BL sense. While still being narcissistic attention whores who actually like killing people off with their powers but pretend to act benevolent. Essentially, you have the Greek Gods except there's two Zeuses, one is a girl and they've both got all of Zeus's worst traits cranked up to eleven.”

“oh god are they gonna dick everything that moves? oh no... cover ava's eyes! joking aside, that sounds accurate. especially given the borderlands universe loves to tie in its greek mythology. also also i am glad someone else agrees the twins are going to elpis. i refuse to believe they'd destroy it/blow it up before going there for the info. that shit is valuable! especially if you want to convince people you're gods?? accurately predicting the future is insanely good for doing that! plus all the other cool shit you can do by knowing exactly what's going to happen.”

“It also makes the Twins much more dangerous if they can see every outcome...unfortunately, Lilith is very good at playing 4D Chess by now.”

“lilith, putting on her sunglasses and cracking her knuckles: it's time to show them what a real military organization can do. ellie is her hype woman with the drink and a towel. also also lilith is probably kicking herself for not being fast enough this time to punch the vault symbol into tyreen's face.”

“Honestly, I'd love Lilith to turn out to be this really crafty, really charismatic guerrilla warfare commander. Like an Innie leader but they're hypercompetent, not a terrorist and also have Keyes's sheer talent for analyzing battles and tactics and adapting accordingly. Lilith sitting up in Sanc-III being BL!Keyes except a lady and specializing in ground warfare would be sick.”

“yes. fucking. please. gearbox please give lily all the character development, your girl deserves it. im glad because it does seem like she's getting there when you crash land on Promethea. and even the way she handles herself on the bridge is very smooth and confident.”

“tfw you can see the future and, yet, the lady you robbed of her siren powers is outsmarting you 24/7, 365 days a year despite you being able to see the future. also you're trying to fight fate and desperate to change reality so that you can't lose like the future said you would. joke's on you, you cannot fight it.”

“There is no changing it. bonus points if ty only saw the very end, so she is utterly clueless on how the middle bits play out. so lilith is kicking her ass across elpis and she's like ‘this is NOT how i saw this going’.”

“I'd seriously imagine that life in BL corporate society really is like life in Rapture or Columbia. The upper class profits immensely and reaps all the best goods, but they refuse to do the dirty work themselves so they rely on this huge workforce who they constantly cheat, lie and exploit. The few achieve huge power and stuff at the expense of the many. Looking at the Twins in the parallels of how revolutions go, they'll basically go from recruiting the bandits to recruiting the huge lower class of every planet. Looking at records from all the planets, we've got people being screwed over again and again, corruption and other nasties. The Twins claim that they want all corporations to go, to bring some form of unified government back to the galaxy. And it works- their army size quadruples overnight and goes from there. By the time we get to Promethea, the COV are already recruiting everyone dissatisfied with corporate life. If they successfully seize control of Maliwan like I predict, they'll be a force to be reckoned with. The Twins will use the masses to achieve some sort of theocratic revolution, [they] claim that it's all for everyone's good. But in reality, they want to be absolute rulers of the universe, gods worshipped and feared by all.”

“Oh yeah, the twins are definitely feeding (maybe literally) off the huge numbers of dissatisfied people across the universe- the mega corporations are evil, no doubt there are millions of people waiting for something better. tbh, if gaige wasn't booted from the main game, I could see a whole side story of her having started a revolution somewhere, and then joining up with the Crimson Raiders once her entire party just up and joined the CoV. And [I would] 100% bet the twins started a campaign against DAHL and Atlas and suddenly nearly every bandit on pandora joined up with them. (also Athena was sitting in a chair clutching at the armrests and janey was like "don't you fuckin dare, hon" and athena is like "but... Atlas...")”

[We talk more about Gaige’s anarchist revolution and trying to topple the mega corporations in a less cult-y fashion here]

“... Bonus points 2: The COV fire up the memories of Jack to rally everyone into opposing Hyperion and suddenly Athena is like "OK I'm not going, mobilize the army." And Janey is like ‘Here we go...’.”

[we joke around a little bit more about Athena and Janey here]

“I can imagine Rhys's internal conflict, knowing that he has to make the galaxy a better place but at the same time, maintain his corporate power and control because without it, he's doomed. Then again, Rhys is no stranger to doing shady stuff. I think a lot of the Twins's evil will be in how they treat their followers.There's all the smooth-talking and promises of the future. And then when you actually get there, you're brainwashed into being another unthinking, 100% loyal attack dog for them. And you follow everything they ask you to do for 100%, even if they use you for power experiments or cannon fodder. And the game will remind us that these people weren't all bandits - over the course of the story, the COV includes people like former corporate execs, entire families, people who were just trying to get by day to day. And now we as Vault Hunters have to kill all these ordinary people to save the universe. Tough choices, eh?“

“Oh geez, you know that's a really fair point. i know borderlands likes to push the 'morally gray' aspect of things, but holy shit that's dark. (not saying i don't love it though, i totally do lol) You’re probably 100% right that rhys is struggling internally. especially after being so closely tied up with hyperion and even fiona and sasha, seeing exactly what hyperion did to people not just on helios but the people trying to live their daily lives and survive on pandora. im sure he has a similar reasoning to himself as the twins: im doing this for the better of the people. i can help so many more people with this money and power. somewhat similar to handsome jack, but hopefully lorelei (if she's not evil) helps ground him and keep him from jumping into the middle-to-deep end.”

“I'm still betting that Rhys will remain on the good side, if a teensy bit unscrupulous. I mean, the whole thing about the Twins is that they're social commentary of livestreamers and influencers and the incredibly toxic influence they can have. There are countless aspects of that to explore. If streamers can mobilize their entire loyal fanbases to bully the crap outta some poor chump or buy things or let their fans believe that they know the streamer 100% as a person and not a persona, the Twins can convince people to go to war.”

“Oooh yeah, it's not hard to imagine they probably don't even need the brainwashing for a majority of their cult, just the select few who are either on the fence or against it, but are [still] 'available'. irl streamers can be seriously fuckin scary, man, im not surprised this is the route gearbox is going for. now, it would be severely fucked up if there was a scene where tyreen demands someone kill themselves on the spot and they do without hesitation. if you watch the moze gameplay there seems to be a hint of something like that going on over the radio/TVs, she mentions something about their sacrifice or something, then you hear a dude screaming/gurgling.”

“Everyone's thinking that Tyreen will be this laughable, entertaining villain. But I'm constantly seeing hints and estimating that she is going to be far, far more scarier than we give her credit for. For one, Jack was a presence largely relegated to audio. We only physically saw him in BL2 twice. The Twins run a cult, which itself is frightening already. And it looks like we'll be seeing them in person very often.”

“Oh yes, tyreen is fucking terrifying. i mean even that she can steal siren powers is already a huge "whoa what the fuck" in my book. that one line at the end of the HBC where she's like "you're my most loyal follower vault thief, you just don't know it yet"? fucking scary, how her voice drops and gets all serious for a split second and then the hologram just cuts out. i was like "wh- wait hang on-???" i definitely think she is putting up a persona and as the game goes on we're slowly going to watch her lose it. troy will probably grow a bit distant from her as well if he doesn't lose it, too. definitely think ty is going to try and kill him once he's of no use to her, because he's just been a pain in her side because she had to keep him alive as the brains of the operation. but once the operation is done... whoops. sorry pal. don't need you anymore. they're the main villains, i can't see her holding the bonds of family in high regard at all. she could totally write off his death as like ‘he sacrificed himself for the Great Vault, now we pray to him every day and sacrifice ourselves in his name’ or smth”

“She puts up this fun-loving persona as a streamer, but she then decides the Vault Hunters get to see her true self. It is not pretty. It makes Jack look like a kitten-cuddling fluffball, that's how bad the real Tyreen is. It makes Piston and Vasquez sound like friendly guys you'd take out for lunch after work. It makes Hector's goals look very reasonable and sane. Also, perhaps she kills him and we never see how she did it, which ups the scare factor. It's like Troy disappeared and we have no idea how she killed him and how long it took for him to die. We just find a lot of irreconcilable proof that Troy is dead now and we don't know how. That is the amount of horror I'm estimating.”

“Oh man I love this. That's so horrible (in a good way), I can 100% see it happening. Jack swore revenge for us killing the person he 'loved'. Tyreen herself kills the person she 'loved' and we start to realize holy shit this is the real deal. She can't even pretend to care like Jack pretended to care (he didn't actually care about Angel as a person, but he did say things to try and make Angel think he did, just putting that out there cuz I don't wanna sound like I support him lol). There's just a complete contrast between her and Jack during the final levels of the game. Jack stops joking around "you feel that, child killer?", he's dead serious and ready to kill vs Tyreen laughing or just being off the rails bubbly for her 'streamer persona' while looking utterly unhinged”

so yeah, the convo teetered off after this a bit, but the general gist is that Tyreen is going to go absolutely off-the-wall by the end of the main story. this is somewhat supported by the Danny Homan interview that states the twins are going to have their relationship warp and twist.Tyreen is going to start going crazy with all the powers she absorbs and realize once the plan is over she won’t need Troy’s expertise anymore, and Troy is going to get sick of being relegated to the side when he’s the one with the master plan. We both have the deep feelings the twins aren’t going to stay as charismatic as they are in the little bit of promo material we’ve gotten of them. which i get, because in a lot of the official trailers, Troy looks pissed. Tyreen is always super smug no matter what shot she’s in, but Troy... he looks very angry in some shots we get. even when Ty is holding his forearm in that one shot, he rips his arm out of her grip. For example: “How many IRL streamer "friends" get into ridiculous drama and feuds with each other? Answer: a lot. Could be mirroring that with the twins. A lot of people are saying that the new villains will never match up to Jack. This is our take, and we're proud of it, and very confident in Gearbox's new writing team. ”

EDIT: some edits made by The Wild West Pyro

#borderlands #bl3 #borderlands 3 #the calypso twins

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blankdblank · 5 years

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Ghosts Pt 6 - Jaqi Pt 3

No matter what they did you couldn’t shake the dream you kept having of this forest burning if you stayed another night. A hidden signal was given at dinner and you were grateful for it. Another two days you were looped into Estel’s games and shadowed by Glorfindel, options for various events in the city kept being presented to you by the aloof tall creatures around you. For all of Dis’ reassurances that it was especially peculiar for any Elf, let alone a Lord, to so openly follow a women without being of a relation or tasked by a relative to do so. But offers were given with emotional ranges far below the average spoon and were all avoided by you to follow the child seeming, past Elrond and his occasional flashes of what must be a smile for him, being the only one to crack the supposed calm they all exuded.

Behind you Frerin smirked to your back already making you roll your now yellow irritated eyes matching your frizzing hair in your braided ponytail, “I just think you should have left a note for Lord Glorfindel.”

You scoffed, “For what? So we could be ambushed along the way and he can insist upon carrying me all the way there?”

Vili chuckled, “I don’t know how you can’t see it.”

Dis chuckled at your exaggerated squatting steps as if gravity had increased for your next two steps as you groaned saying woefully, “How will I ever live without the daily attentions of a man who has the visible emotional range of a teaspoon.”

Dis, “You well get used to Elves in time. I am surprised you are not more so with the Vanyar living in that bubble of yours.”

In a turn to her you kept walking backwards, making Pinto in his parrot form on your shoulder shift closer to your neck, “My Elves smile, and laugh, and make fools of themselves. Somewhere between the Years of the Lamps and today all those wars have sucked the fun out of all these Elves. If he can’t be bothered to relax enough to smile around me then it’s shame on him. Vili loves you and boasts about it to every boulder we stop near.”

Vili nodded, “Aye, to ward off any dark omens. Tradition for carrying Dams.”

“See, there, right there, a man who isn’t afraid to spout off sonnets in your honor to a boulder, every boulder. I bet if we were in Erebor he’d force all the men to stop in awe at you.”

They grinned and Frerin asked in a low hum, “It seems you know our kin better than you let on. Erebor might be very comfortable for you then.”

After a moment of pursing your lips, “I do have to ask. And I mean this respectfully.” They nodded, “Your home in the Blue Mountains. It was your height-,”

Dis shook her head, “Ah, I can see where you are going, and no. Most of the roofs are a minimum of ten feet tall.” She wet her lips, “There are certain, not tricks, but rules to follow when carving homes out of a mountain. The Blue Mountains gave us less space and more trouble to reach our kin’s usual splendor. Limiting our guests greatly, however, still far grander than we expected after fleeing.”

Vili, “We do hope you will enjoy it in Erebor, and not feel you have to leave.”

“I will need something to do then. I am terrible with an empty schedule.”

Frerin, “Well Dale will need repairing.”

A slap of cold wind made you turn your head to find you’d taken a step from dirt into small snow drifts. “Hmm.” Reaching back you drew your wand noticing the bunching ponies behind you readying for the long cold ahead. Holding it forward you formed an invisible cocoon around you all carving a path in the snow easing a path for the now unnoticeable quartet behind you under the tops of the tall snow bank.

Nearly a full day you led the path down the jagged downward slope leading down to the pass feeding towards the open now glowing doors into Moria. Anxiously the others watched your enchanted vial from earlier capturing the last of the creatures dwelling inside as the lake beast gripped on pitifully to anything it could in its struggle to keep from being added as well. Eventually failing to shrink and fly inside instantly lightening the lake greatly back to its reflective state coating it in starlight.

Through the gates you saw your other charms working as well, the long stretches ahead already rippling back to what it once was. Banners reappearing from ash, all stolen and moved items returning to their former homes freshly scrubbed. The dirt and grime coated walls and pillars returning to their silver marble glory with lanterns lighting along the way to welcome you deeper inside the sealing mines while you reduced the creatures inside your vial into ash.

All treasures you passed were sifted through and left in enchanted chests and sent to the former treasury now added to by centuries of adding from the spoils of pillaging. Through which you were passed a small chest by Dis who beamed up at you saying, “This is a trinket compared to what you have won us back in this short time. Moria, an alliance with Rivendell, the protection of my bairns.”

You opened the chest seeing the mail armor hemmed with fine intricate designs making Frerin say, “Mithril. The strongest armor there is.” Your eyes met his, “You may be needing it ahead.”

In your glance at Bilbo seeing the shirt he had already added and was now covering under his shirt you nodded. Set your bags down to head into the same room he just exited to change into the shirt and pants suit of armor you redressed over and returned to shoulder your bags and rifle again thanking the trio who beamed and guided you along to your next resting place.

Long and deep you followed the path until you reached the other side of the keep, an exit past Lothlorien. The fabled Elven Kingdom far from welcoming to the Dwarves, and yet atop your steeds, who were all to giddy to be free of the mountain again, you followed the path you had memorized. Around you the path seemed clear, on to a bend in the river you continued then stopped for lunch, atop the boulder overlooking the ones circling the others you finished your fish and passed your plate to Bilbo in his reach for it with a soft thanks.

Your eyes never leaving the trees as a line of Elves inched closer to its edge, the twitch of your ear at the sound of dirt crunching on your right made you subtly crank the trigger on your riffle you promptly turned and fired at the creeping warg beside you. Quietly the four sat eating watching the Elves looking on as you took out the two wargs behind it. An upward glance made the second swooping black dragon shift into your focus, again you brought out your wand in its swoop for the forest only to explode into daffodils making the Elves stare up in awe through your resheathing your wand while the expended cartridges melted into seeds for wild flowers burying themselves in the earth.

Lunch ended and your seats atop your saddles were reclaimed on the continued path to the river separating you from Southern Greenwood. Finally you were at the edge of it, the vast stretch of sinister looking trees you eyed and then led the path inside. Dark and claustrophobic this forest seemed to swallow you whole, never ending and yet a long since forgotten path uncovered itself for you leading to a vast stretch of land untouched by trees with a set of ruins taking its last breath before crumbling into the ground as the withered Dwarf Prince escaping across the bridge. Tearful reunions were had with extra time for setting up Bilbo’s smial to help scrub and reclothe their father while you and Bilbo inspected the lands.

Bilbo, “It looks abandoned.”

You nodded, “Elrond did say the King had fled North leaving it to its own defenses.”

Bilbo, “If it would ease your weariness you should set down here.”

A weak grin spread on your face and you dug out the pulsing orb while the Durins exited the smial ready to keep going, only to watch in awe at your vast kingdom settling between the shifting trees inside the new bubble charm stretching around the Southern portion of Greenwood. With smial set away the resting Elven Kingdom was left to a posted notice of the new location and borders drawn up for them not to cross to remain within your protection charms and you carried on for the rest of the path out to the other side of the forest.

The long barren rocky plains lay ahead and at a steady pace you followed them to the sealed front gates. A glance at your thestral ring showed you to the base of the tall staircase while the Durins waited at the front gates. The higher you climbed the more you could see the spreading light of your kingdom seeping through the canopy of now swaying trees to their echoing song on the breeze. The door was found, opened and closed behind you, it really didn’t matter if you were quiet or not, the singing in the distance had woken Smaug, who was now pacing in the great hall muttering about the powerful Elves he could sense in the distance. If he could pale he would have at such numbers out of nowhere, but a trilling whistle brought his eyes upwards to you and your extended wand earning a loud challenging roar ending with the sea of golden Lotus blossoms pouring through the hall.

A flick of the wrist and the gates opened welcoming the Durins inside with gleeful cheers. From the balcony you grinned joining Bilbo in returning to the treasury your charm was fast at work to cleanse, beside the Hobbit you waded through the gold pausing at a few trinkets along the way, chuckling as Bilbo passed you a small chest, “To add to your collection.”

You rolled your eyes, “Honestly. I don’t need any gems.”

Bilbo chuckled, “No one needs gems. They are lovely still.”

Chests were formed holding the gold binding itself in paper wraps with the gems and trinkets organizing themselves on the stair-like displays the chests made for them. Thrain stood on the overlook with mouth open, “What is she doing?”

Dis patted his arm, “Adad, she is cleansing our hoard and organizing it for us.”

His grin grew, “Ah. Very helpful this Wizard. Bewitching the mops and brooms to scrub the place too.”

When that was through you climbed the steps back to the halls ahead of you peering through the Royal Wing behind the trio of elated Dwarves naming each of their relatives’ former apartments until you reached the Elven suited quarters you were sharing with Bilbo. Through to the writing table you walked, leaving your bags in your room and wet your lips easing a stray sheet of paper and a pen you filled with the ink well corked on the table. The blank paper seemed daunting so you stuck to simplicity.

“King Thranduil,

Pardon my informality, we have not met, and I am not accustomed to conversing with Kings. However, I have been tasked with informing you that Smaug is dead and you should not worry about him attacking anyone. Also, Dis,”

You scratched that out rewriting,

“Princess Dis, has asked me to inform you your gems have been uncovered and she hopes that your former trade deal could possibly be discussed, should you agree to come and meet with us. Plus, I should also ask for a few moments of your time to discuss the Southern half of Greenwood.

I hope this letter finds you well,

Jaqiearae Pear”

Blowing on it you ensured the ink was dry before folding, sealing and sending the message off to Greenwood from the secret ledge with Pinto. Staring at your parrot in the distance you repeated, “I hope it finds you well?” You scoffed at yourself and turned to head back inside mumbling, “Hope at least he has patience for an ignorant old fool.”

Trees whizzed by and an open window freed the Parrot to fly inside. Around each corner he flew calling out, “Where is the King?” Confused pointed fingers from the Elves readying for battle all stared up at the red feathers on the grey bird soaring overhead with a message in his grip.

Finally a tall blonde turned and looked up in time to catch the message before Pinto circled and landed on his shoulder, using his beak to shift his hair out of the way so he could move closer. Unfolding the note Thranduil felt all eyes on him. The Prince broke through the crowds to read the letter hearing his Father read aloud, “Smaug is dead. Princess Dis has found my gems. Why would they want to speak about Southern Greenwood?”

On his shoulder Pinto tapped his beak on the King’s armored shoulder admiring his reflection making the King peer at him curiously before saying, “What an odd bird.”

Raising his head Pinto replied, “I could say the same about you. Twigs and berries in your hair.”

Legolas, “You can speak?”

Pinto gave a whistle then replied, “Of course I can. Do you have an answer?”

Thranduil caught his eye again and he nodded saying in Elvish, “Ten guards, Tauriel, Legolas, prepare your horses.” Walking out towards the stables Pinto held himself steady then whistled again when his steed came into view fully saddled. Glancing at the bird again he asked, “Does your Master send you with messages often?”

Pinto ruffled his feathers chuckling, “I do not have a Master. I have a Wizard.”

Thranduil’s lips parted, “You are a familiar then?”

Pinot chuckled again, “Handsome and clever. You’ll get along famously.”

On the saddle he glanced at Pinto then charged off through the woods off towards Erebor.

#Glorfindel x Reader OC #Thranduil x Reader OC #Fili/Kili x Reader OC #HP Crossover

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twdmusicboxmystery · 5 years

Text

9x09: Analysis

Okay, let's talk about this episode.

***As always, spoilers abound for episode 9x09. Don’t read until you’ve watched. You’ve been warned!***

The beginning was definitely freaky. As I suspected, from watching the trailer, are heroes got out of the graveyard fairly quickly, but watching the whisperer unlock the gate was super spooky.

Negan’s story:

Negan’s story was by far the most important where TD is concerned. Really fascinating symbolism. Let’s dive right in.

We see him eating a tomato. That's important because tomatoes were an important part of Carl’s story line and specifically Carl’s vision for the future. I think showing Negan eat the tomato shows that this is the beginning of him moving toward the Negan we saw in Carl's vision. In other words, a good Negan who will cooperate with TF.

He goes into Judith’s room. I noticed a little purple fan. I won’t say much about this now but I will tell you that @frangipanilove is working on a purple theory that I will share when she gets done.

Negan also takes a compass. The compass is super-important guys. As we’ve noted already, Henry is wearing a compass rose on his T-shirt and the compass is linked to the North Star because both of them help you find your way. Remember that, in Alone, which was a huge Beth episode, Maggie had a broken compass. So, we can definitely link the compass to Beth.

When he offers to give it back to Judith, she says, "Keep it. It will help you find your way." Not only is that very symbolic, but I think it hearkens back to when Carl pointed at the North Star and when Judith was a baby in S6 and said it would help you find your way home.

Well, putting Beth aside, I think that this does very much have a lot to do with Negan and him finding his way back to goodness and redemption, and TF. But we also can't ignore the parallels to Beth and the ways in which we can connect this to her arc. So overall, and still feeling like she may come through meetings arc because of all the symbols around him that have to do with her.

Judith, of course, catches Negan before he goes over the wall but ends up letting him go. One thing that really caught my attention was that Negan said he had if he stayed in Alexandria all he has is, "four walls and a bedpan." That's super important because it's a form of the title of 5x03, which was Four Walls and a Roof.

We’re not sure exactly what this means or how to tie it to Beth, but we have a few ideas. This form for four walls and a roof was a significant episode for a few reasons. There's a lot of bloodshed going on in that episode, it was in 5a, which was the major part of Beth’s arc, and the red machete was involved.

In terms of what the line actually meant in the episode, Father Gabriel said, "this is God's house." Maggie answered, "No, it's just four walls and a roof." I’ve always taken that to mean, by extension, that this is not God's house. It's simply a place where they kill to survive. And if Beth is the Christ figure, that means they’re symbolically saying that Beth is not there. Which in the plot, she wasn't. She was never at Father Gabriel's church. During that time, she was at Grady.

Another important thing, as @wdway reminded me, in 9x05, which was Rick's hallucination and final episode, in the part where he hallucinated talking to Shane in the squad car, Shane referenced this episode too. He said Rick needed to be strong again like he was in the church with that red machete. At the time, we honed in on the red machete reference. But he was obviously referencing what happened in Four Walls and a Roof. So, this is twice now this season that they’ve referenced that episode. It must be important. Maybe it’s a red machete thing. Maybe something else. But we’ll keep an eye on it.

Later, he kills her walker while sitting in the bed of a truck and eating. When he sits down, some walkers wake up in the back of the truck. One of them was burnt and was very ashy. Naturally, I want to connect that to, "we ain’t ashes,” as well as other burnt walkers around Beth (Still and Always Accountable). While he's fighting with the walker, the walker pulls itself loose and loses its legs.

So we have an example of the lost shoe/foot theme. Italso reminds me a whole lot of 4x01 in the Big Spot where Bob looked at the lower legs of a walker. So more callbacks to 4a. Then, Negan dropped his bag of food, fighting the walker and I noticed that she was an apple lying on the ground.

Let's just remember that especially an apple rolling on the ground is indicative of the Snow White/apple theory.

We saw the lost shoe/foot theme in Inmates with Beth, not too long before she went missing. We also saw it with Rick in 7x12, not long before he went missing and was presumed dead.

So seeing it here either means that Negan is going to go missing and be presumed dead, or else that Beth is close. (And I’m really not feeling like Negan is going to go missing.)

So let’s discuss what they’re doing with Negan here. There were a lot of signs in the background that suggest becoming the man you’re meant to be. So again, we’re seeing him move toward a different kind of Negan than we saw in the past.

Most of us in my group also noticed that when he was puking, he was in the clearing Abe and Glenn died in. Nicotero confirmed that on TTD, saying that, because he was kneeling where his victims knelt, that’s giving him a new, humble perspective, which may play into his change of heart.

Then something interesting happens. We start to see a TON of Beth symbolism around him.

So then he goes into a store to look for new shirt. This part was huge, guys. I literally had to pause live TV because I couldn't write fast enough to write all the symbolism down.

First, he tries to turn a flashlight, but it doesn't work. In other words, the batteries are dead. So we have the Battery Theory. He finds a crank flashlight and manages to crank that to create some light. On the floor is a green can of food which I'm pretty sure is okra. Remember, okra figured heavily in Alone. We saw on the table at Beth and Daryl’s candlelight dinner. We also see the flashlight flare I've noted before.

So that's still in play and we definitely saw that with Beth. I think that's important because, along with the bats, it’s another way to connect Beth to Negan.

Then he sees the corpse of a guy who obviously shot himself in the head. Guys, look at this comparison. This guy looks exactly like the guy Daryl saw him 5x10 with the dead deer.

You can't tell me that's a coincidence. There are callbacks to the themes, Beth episodes, including Alone, things that link Negan and Beth, and then finally a callback to 5x10. You know, where the music box woke up?

I’m also thinking the mannequins around the corpse are important. There’s one female mannequin, which could represent the mannequins and “Rich Bitch” corpse we saw in the golf club, or could just represent Beth herself, simply because it’s a female, not a male. The other two mannequins there are both little kid mannequins (Child/Baby symbolism around Beth.)

Then @thegloriouscollectorlady said something brilliant. She said, “this is Negan’s Still.” She’s SO right. Think about it. He’s wandering on the outside like Beth and Daryl were in Still. He ruined his shirt and walked into a dark place and finds a new shirt. There’s the flashlight flare, which happened in the golf club as well. There was okra. And dogs.

Dogs! Like Sirius/dogstar symbolism. There's three of them and they are wild and chase him. Not only is this a Siris reference, but it's a call back to Them and the feral dogs that team family saw there. In this case, Negan hides from them.

So the clothing store represented the golf club. The lighting was the same, racks of merchandise and clothing, even mannequins.

So, even as I thought all of this, I could just visualize the Asks in my inbox and the concerns people would have. “Couldn’t all the Beth symbolism around Negan simply suggest that he has a similar arc? That he’s trying to figure out who he is, become the strong person he’s meant to be, and possibly disappear like her?”

Well, let me first say that I wasn’t worried about that one way or the other. While I get the worry in that, it also doesn’t explain the million other symbols around Beth that suggest her return. It doesn’t explain the dialogue, the blue herons, the Christian/resurrection symbolism, the 8:00 clocks, etc.

But the interesting symbolism around Negan didn’t stop there. We noted a bunch more things that were callbacks to Beth and Daryl and S4, but after a while, we realized they weren’t Negan/Beth parallels. They were Negan/Daryl parallels. So Negan goes to the Sanctuary and says, “Home sweet home,” which Daryl also said at the moonshine shack in Still.

Then Negan breaks through a wall of the Sanctuary and finds a motorcycle (obvious Daryl symbolism) and cans of dog food.

So callback to 7x03, The Cell, and also the handcuffs and dog food Daryl found in S8.

And of course later on Negan was riding a motorcycle, just like Daryl, and when Judith shot at him and he wiped out on the bike, he did it exactly like we always see Daryl wreck when he does.

So basically, Negan was symbolically rehashing BOTH Beth and Daryl’s arcs from S4 to S8. So at that point, I don’t think it can simply be a matter of him following a similar path. Something else is going on here.

At the Sanctuary, Negan tries to force the Sanctuary to feel like home. He even puts together a makeshift living room, but he’s obviously not feeling it. He finds a walker he knew before named Big Richie. At first, he doesn’t kill him. Then he looks at Judith’s compass and does.

I think maybe he didn’t kill him because he promised Judith he wouldn’t.

Reminds me of Daryl almost covering Lenny with the white tarp because of what Beth taught him, but then not doing it; just another parallel to S4 and Daryl symbolism where he’s learning from what the female sheriff taught him. In fact, you could argue this is a lot like S4 that way too. Negan and Judith were separated just like Beth and Daryl. Granted, in Negan’s case, the separation was his choice. Daryl realized the Claimers were bad people and he didn’t want to stay with them, just as Negan realized he didn’t want to stay in the Sanctuary anymore. Then Negan and Judith--the female sheriff--are reunited. So this could be another way to point to Beth and Daryl reuniting. Will she shoot at Daryl and knock him off his bike? Probably not. But it’s interesting. ;D.

Meanwhile, Negan realized the Sanctuary would never be home again, so he kills Ritchie and returns to Alexandria. Judith is his home now.

But again, we saw this with Beth and Daryl in S4. They tried to make an emotional home with each other, but more tangibly, they tried to make the funeral home a permanent home. Daryl wanted to stay there and make it work. But in the end, they couldn’t, and after they left, they (or Daryl at least) reunited with TF. Just like Negan in this episode.

So it’s hard to know where this is going for sure, but I feel certain it has something to do with Beth and Daryl.

@wdway also noticed diamond patterns on clothing and in background. Remember Beth is the queen of diamonds and we saw several instances of diamonds around her in S4.

In terms of me REALLY wanting to read into things as foreshadows?

1) In TTD, they said something interesting. They did a segment on the dogs they used that chased Negan around. In describing the scene, they said that, unbeknownst to Negan, these dogs had been secretly tracking him. It’s pretty impossible to understand that from what they showed us in the episode, which means they wanted us to know about it. So if dogs = Beth because of Sirius symbolism, I feel like at some point, Beth will be tracking Negan or pose a threat to him. Which kinda throws the dogs in 5x10 into a new light, doesn’t it?

2) They also explained that the reason Negan threw up is because of drinking the water. It was bad water and made him sick. Um… Beth = water. So I want to say that it shows Beth is going to end up being a major threat to Negan. Both of these symbols suggest that. Just thought I’d throw that out there.

One other thing? There were a LOT of 10s mentioned in this episode. That points at S10 for something. Maybe it’s Beth. Maybe it’s something in Negan’s arc. But Lydia mentions 10s too, which might be a Whisperer thing. So don’t know what it means, but thought I’d mention it.

I’d also like to point out that at the end of 9x08, we saw Negan walk into the Sanctuary and whistle. There was a time jump forward to show something that was really a hint of things to come. Then, this episode they went back and showed Negan leaving his cell, leaving Alexandria, and other things that happened on his way to the Sanctuary. So just another example of how they can skip over things and jump forward, but they always go back and show us what we missed. They have to do that with Beth eventually. (And with whatever gave Michonne and Daryl their X scars.)

Daryl and Michonne:

I really loved this interaction between Daryl and Michonne. I thought it was really sweet.

It was obvious that Daryl didn't really trust Magna and her people until Michonne assured him that she would vouch for them. Then he was cool. She said burying Jesus would mean a lot to his loved ones. Daryl then says, "I'm sorry, couldn't do that for you." Michonne: "I’m sorry I couldn't do it for both of us. Thank you, for looking for him.” Obviously, they’re talking about never finding Rick’s body. And there’s an emphasis on how important burial and closure are. Not only did Beth not get a funeral, but remember she emphasized to Daryl at the funeral home how important burials are. How important they were to her personally.

But then Michonne says something downright tantalizing. She says, “And for after." This is really interesting because Michonne is thanking Daryl for something that happened “after” Rick’s presumed death. Remember that right after the bridge exploded and Daryl started off to look for him, they did the time jump. We don't know what came “after.” So, what she's thanking him for must have something to do with whatever happened during the time jump and gave them their scars.

On TTD, Norman talked about this, and it kinda freaked me out. He says that Daryl and Michonne shared an experience that no one in the group except them knows about. And that it’s a very, very DARK secret. Wow. That’s super-ominous. I have NO idea what that means, and it’s a little frightening.

But more than that, it doesn’t explain some of the mysteries we saw in 9a. It doesn’t explain why the Hilltoppers were terrified of riders showing up and booked it inside the walls. It doesn’t explain why Maggie, Tara, Diane, and the rest are so pissed off at Michonne, and why she seems totally understanding about the fact that they are.

So I don’t know if that’s all part of the same thing or not. Maybe something happened with Michonne and, specifically because the Hilltoppers don’t know what happened to her and Daryl, they don’t understand her actions, and that’s why they’re mad. OR, maybe we’re talking about multiple events we know nothing about. I don’t know, but this is a serious interesting twist of events.

But I loved Daryl and Michonne’s little bonding moment on the road. I thought it was sweet. Kinda melted my heart.

I’m also excited because I think the After theme has everything to do with Carl/Beth entanglement and leading to Beth’s return. And this means whatever caused those scars is also in the mix somewhere.

Daryl and Henry:

Henry still has a compass rose on his shirt and is in the jail cell when Daryl returns.

After that, we had such a supremely sublime Beth moment. After letting Henry out for a short time, but saying he needs to do his time and stay in the prison cell another night, Henry asks if alcohol always makes you feel this bad. Daryl looks at him in a considering way and answers simply, "No." Guys, he HAS to be thinking of Beth when he says that. Remember, they made a point of saying that she was a happy drunk, she held her liquor well, and she actually liked the feeling. So, alcohol didn’t make her feel bad like it did Henry. That's one major difference between the two of them. My heart just absolutely melted when he said that because I knew he had to be thinking of Beth.

They also discussed figuring out who you are. Henry says he's just he feels bad about what happened (getting drunk) but is just trying to figure out who he is not new in this new place (Hilltop). That's actually a whole lot like Beth too. They never said it quite that heavy-handedly with Beth, Beth and Daryl on the road together were very much was very much them trying to figure out who they were in the work of the tragedy of the prison family and who they were together and in this new setting. So Daryl understands where Henry is coming from.

Lydia:

When they captured Lydia, I was struck by the image of her blond wig/scalp being left behind, along with her knife. The camera focused on that a minute and it just screamed Beth. Beth’s blond hair and Beth’s knife.

Lydia talks about how the walkers protected them (because they wear walker faces, they can walk around with the walker herds and be protected) and so they protect the walkers, too. So the Whisperers believe their relationship with the walkers is symbiotic. That’s actually a whole lot like the what the wolves believed.

Lydia also says, “we were always going to kill you. That's just what you do know. Kill people.” That tells us a lot about the Whisperers’ mentality. They believe killing people to survive is the obvious thing to do. Not what our heroes and TF believe. She also says that her mother is "A good person” and “just one woman out there alone." That combination has to make Daryl think of Beth, who spoke to him about good people and was also on her own at Grady. And, you know, there’s the blond angle.

Daryl is being verbally abusive to Lydia, Henry tells Daryl to stop. Much like many others such as Beth, Henry is acting as Daryl's moral compass, trying to tell him what the right thing to do. When Beth was Daryl's moral compass, he listened to her. He's really not listening to Henry at all.

He was smart because he did sort of a good cop/bad cop routine. He yelled at Lydia to intimidate her, probably knowing that Henry wouldn't like it, and that then maybe Lydia would bond with Henry and trust him. So when they started talking, he sat outside the window listening and heard everything. Daryl is not so dumb. ;D

Daryl walking in and telling Henry (Beth proxy) about Jesus’s death felt a lot like him telling Beth about Zack’s death in 4x01.

Luke and Alden:

Luke volunteers to go out with Alden to look for Michonne and Daryl’s group. Luke made the joke that he was "two hand Luke,” as well as saying, “Do you need a hand? I have two of them." I feel like it’s a foreshadow of someone (maybe Luke) losing a hand.

Before they leave, Enid tells Alden to, "be safe out there." Definitely a foreboding foreshadowing. Because by the end, there captured by Alpha.

Luke and Alden talked a lot about music with an especial emphasis on singing. Beth anyone?

I couldn't help but notice that Alden has machete with a handle wrapped in white tape. I don’t think it's the red machete, but having the handle wrapped in exactly the same way the red machete’s was wrapped in mini series strikes me as important.

We also found out that Rosita is pregnant with Siddique’s baby. Euguen found out when finally professed his love to Rosita. Poor guy. But he also made an hour glass reference. Not only is that a time reference, but remember that in 5b, Carl played with an hour glass. I believe it’s yet another way to show the arc has turned over and Beth, who wasn’t in the show from 5b on, will reappear in this current arc.

Enid watching for Alden to come back reminded me of Maggie looking for Glenn to come back in 6a. Which I THINK shows that Alden will live. In that case, it was Glenn’s death fake out and he did make it back to her alive. Of course he died eventually, so I could be wrong about that. On the flip side, Alden s also the song bird right now. He’s the only one on the show that sings. So maybe that will lead to his death? Guess we’ll have to wait and see.

I won’t go into this too much, but we saw the Us vs. Them theme, and also a lot of bikes. There were bikes in the background several times, the bike Negan found and rode, which admittedly might have ONLY been a Daryl reference. But every time I see bikes, especially with an emphasis on the tires, I think of a prominent one we saw in 6x02 when the wolves attacked. That might make sense since we know the Whisperers are about to arrive. Maybe it’s a symbol that a bad group is about to show up at the gates. But a lot of us also suspect ties between the Whisperers and the Wolves, and a lot of the symbolism we saw in this episode kinda backs that idea up. Just saying.

Okay, that’s all I have for today. I really loved this episode, though. SO much symbolism that makes me very excited for what’s to come.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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firefield · 3 years

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David Bowie - Glastonbury 2000

Focusing very specifically on the positive, opens oneself up to accusations of sycophancy, certainly on dedicated Bowie forums where deeply held opinions from an individual’s discerning ear are woven inextricably into any given personality. It’s something that feels unique to the art of music and sound; moreso than say painting or photography, and I think it speaks to the power of music’s ability to shape the very memories of our own lives and how we chose to live them.

This criticism of this particular show is fueled by DB’s insistence that it be truncated, the reason being a dissatisfaction with the vocal performance due to the singer recovering from an earlier laryngitis diagnosis. Other suggestions from people involved with that decision claim otherwise - that the quality of DB’s performance was never in doubt, and that it was a purely fiscal argument with the BBC having plans that differed significantly from the Bowie camp’s expectations.

Regardless, where others seem to hear a disaffectation from the material, or a boredom even, I hear humility. No doubt, DB’s connection to that place, and to the man he was in 1971 when he first took that stage, must be profound. I think that humility is immediately evident with not only the choice of opening such a huge show with Wild Is The Wind, but in the performance itself. It feels to me like he chose a song he himself did not write, a song that is the very castle-on-the-hill of the artistic expression of intimacy, and he makes an extremely public and passionate attempt to scale up that mountain, accepting the bumps and bruises and scrapes right there in the open. The heat of the spotlights juxtaposed with the visible exhalation of breath into the cold. One man, one huge crowd of fans and non-fans alike. A word on a wing.

Another criticism is the “let’s play the hits!” aspect which is obviously valid, and something DB himself wasn’t thrilled about, described by his writings in the 2020 Glastonbury CD/DVD/LP set liner notes. He recognized that many that purchase tickets for a festival like that, do so with no knowledge of who all the acts are and all their material, and he felt an obligation to do his best to try to be inclusive of all. So with a few exceptions (like the wonderful arrangement of Let’s Dance) these arrangements are what you’d expect from this particular band at this time, and the songs are recognizable and certainly sing-along-with-able.

I’m not going to track-by-track this 2 hour show extensively. I’m nauseatingly long-winded as it is, so I’ll just point out a few things that struck me about the show and the recording. Earl Slick and Mark Plati really sound great together. For as short a time as they had to put this together, it’s impressive how complimentary their dueling guitars are - especially when you consider that the lines between who plays rhythm and who plays lead are not clearly defined. They both handle those roles at different times and they sound great together.

Changes was a given here with its inclusion in the ‘71 set. Great guitar stuff happening here.

THAT rendition of Life On Mars after a laryngitis diagnosis? Come on now. Extraordinary.

Did you catch how DB casually mentions Absolute Beginners is his “favorite song of the 80’s?” and that he hopes some of them know it? Very cool inclusion. Some of the Kate Bushian background vocals are a bit weird here. They work technically, but I could do without them in the verses.

You can feel the band really settling in here on Ashes To Ashes. Gail’s bass arrangement is fantastic, and Sterling’s drumming is killer. I’ve always been perplexed as to what the steam-hissing sound is during the chorus. Still don’t know the what or why of that. Is Garson triggering a sample? It plays through the coda too.

I like this version of Rebel Rebel, and you can see DB totally feel the crowds reaction to it. Everybody is rocking out, Sterling is pounding the snare like a time-stretched jackhammer on resilient concrete, the backing vox are solid and Earl plays that riff like he’s landing his Cessna on an airstrip on his personal island villa.

Bowie breathless on Little Wonder after slaying Rebel Rebel. Hang in there Dave!

So yeah, I get the criticism of Golden Years. If you take DB at his word, that they hadn’t played it in forever and only worked a week - it shows. Firstly without very specific notes to the live sound guy about how to treat all these vocal trade-offs in the arrangements, it’s gonna be that dudes nightmare. Clearly some parts aren’t totally thought out… the harmonica sound is “there” but just…. there. Gail’s parts are poorly mixed. The sound guy is playing constant catch up. The guitars aren’t as complimentary as you’d want for a song whose groove is paramount.

And Fame wipes that all away in an instant. When I first saw Gail switch to a 5-string bass and drop into that groove… hot damn. DB sounds fantastic here. And Sterling’s stutter-step drumming is just badass. Solid as a rock. The band is having so much fun and you feel it from literally everyone on stage.

All The Young Dudes cranks up the ROCK feel of the show significantly at this point; a trajectory that apexes with a totally slamming version of Ziggy Stardust that I’ll get to later. Holly and Em’s backing vox here are great.

Slightly shaky start to TMWSTW but they pull it together fast. Plati’s acoustic is a nice addition to the shows timbre. Some nice interplay between Earl and Mike. Sterling Campbell again with some stellar drumming. I love that snare sound.

Mike Garson is strangely absent on Station To Station and there are balance problems with parts of the vocals, but overall serviceable. I tend to focus on Earl Slick’s growling guitar leaning into the left channel. He has such a snake-like delivery when he’s playing under the vocals. As I’ve mentioned, I love Sterling’s drumming, but I miss Dennis Davis on tracks like this. Cold grooves like this was in his blood.

“I feel love in this room. I do!”

Ahhh. I hear a lot of joy in this version of Starman. Mike’s rolling piano is beautiful. What a great song choice for this venue, and the crowd loved it.

“I’m hot and sweaty, I wore a stupid jacket, and I’m too vain to take it off.”

Wow. You can immediately tell that this band is more familiar with and has toured Hallo Spaceboy. Nice to see this toss to fans of his newer stuff. A potent slice of menace to balance out the childlike charm of Starman. DB’s voice showing some fatigue.

Under Pressure was a certainty for this show of course and Gail nails her difficult synchronous parts with grace as always. I think DB is aware his voice could go, and is making melodic, timbre and amplitude choices carefully to pace himself.

“…and goodnight…”

Well, I love this encore opener of Ziggy Stardust. Sterling sets the tempo smacking his sticks together and it’s a dirty, sloggy, whore in the alley tempo and Earl just feels it right up. Again, Sterling’s snare sound is a shotgun slug. Earl and Mark fully unified, and DB pushing his voice and laying it all out there. So great. For those of you that avoid this show as lackluster, decontextualize this track from the show itself and crank it up. It slams.

WhooBoy, yeah. DB is tired here. Heroes probably would have worked better as a show centerpiece, and with a fresher vocal, but I’m not in love with this pedestrian guitar arrangement. This song needs abandon. It needs desperation. This arrangement sounds a bit like they just want to get through it. Maybe that’s too harsh, but it’s easy to find better live versions. Like straight from 1977, Bowie lets his vocal fatigue/strain work in the songs favor.

So the first time I ever heard this show was on a cassette a friend made for me, a boot of the whole show, and I just assumed as I was listening that Heroes would close the show. And then… uhhh… Spanish guitar from Earl? eBow-like guitar swells from Mark? What am I hearing here? Ahh. Let’s Dance. Sweet! Love this arrangement. They’d done it this way before, but back then, I think it was the first time I’d heard it. Man. DB’s voice is hanging on for dear life.

Again, assuming LD would close the show. And…. I’m Afraid Of Americans! Great rendition. Excellent keyboard touches all through this thing and gives DB a chance to growl through it without any intense melodic acrobatics.

Well, there you have it. Your mileage may vary as they say. Unavailable in its complete form officially until only recently, it’s a fun huge-festival type listen. Are there “better” shows? Certainly. But I enjoyed the hell out of this DVD/CD edition as well as the Bureau Supply edition on vinyl. Next up: Heathen.

EDIT: That slaphappy bass part on Ashes To Ashes is played by Mark Plati - Gail switches to rhythm guitar. That’s what I get for writing instead of WATCHING.

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justanothercinemaniac · 7 years

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Epic Movie (Re)Watch #190 - Robots (2005)

Spoilers Below

Have I seen it before: Yes

Did I like it then: Yes.

Do I remember it: Yes.

Did I see it in theaters: Yes.

Was it a movie I saw since August 22nd, 2009: No.

Format: DVD

1) From the very first scene of the film Robots is able to establish its wonderfully creative world through an incredible sense of visuals and place. You understand from the very first frame that we are in a different world.

2) There are so many jokes in this film I didn’t understand as a kid.

Mrs. Copperbottom [after Mr. Copperbottom missed the delivery of the baby]: “But that’s okay, MAKING the baby is the fun part.”

[Smooth jazz plays.]

(GIF source unknown [if this is your GIF please let me know].)

3) See note #2.

Mrs. Copperbottom: “Honey? What’s that extra piece?”

Mr. Copperbottom: Oh. Oh, no, they always put in an extra...[Takes a good look at the piece. Chuckles.] We did want a boy, right?

4) Growing up with young Rodney not only clearly illustrates his hope/optimism/creativity but it also helps get the audience fully invested in his character and driving motivations. When Rodney really starts inventing/getting into inventing - when he finds his passion - you just root for him more. There’s a little bit of Rodney in each of us I think.

5) Stanley Tucci is a treat as Mr. Copperbottom. He is able to fully communicate his love for son Rodney in just a few lines, but you can also tell when something is concerning him. He doesn’t get a lot of time to shine, but through Tucci’s vocals he is one of the most memorable character in the films.

6) Ewan McGregor as Rodney Copperbottom.

McGregor is able to translate what we have learned about Rodney up tot his point - his optimism, passion, hope and drive - and amplify it considerably. It’s this character who we journey with throughout the film. His stakes are our stakes and McGregor is able to get the audience on his side. There’s a certain sense of naivety to Rodney’s attitudes in the big city but what’s important is that these never come across as annoying but instead are a nice source of conflict. All in all McGregor is I think an underrated part of an underrated film and I truly enjoy his role here.

7) The scene where Rodney uses Robot City’s public transportation is incredibly imaginative. It’s the thing I love about animation at its strongest: pure imagination.

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8) Robin Williams as Fender

As Aladdin so iconically proved, Williams’ was made for animation. This film is no different, as his continuous energy and humor MAKE Fender as memorable as he is. A wonderful scene stealer with some great moments of friendship with Rodney, Fender is a lot of fun.

9) Greg Kinear as Ratchet.

Ratchet is a slick and fun villain made all the better by Kinnear’s cool vocals. You love to hate him as his charisma, style, and fun are reminiscent of Hades from Disney’s Hercules. Like the rest of the movie he’s just a lot of fun.

10) There’s this wonderful sense of old school slapstick and fun which permeates every moment of the film. It might not often support the plot but it’s just so freaking fun you don’t care. Almost like an old Chuck Jones cartoon, it’s just one great gag after another.

11) There is this incredible sense of place to Madame Gasket’s chop shop. Wickedly evil, as soon as we enter through visuals and even music the filmmakers establish that this is not a place you want to be in.

12) Jim Broadbent as Madame Gasket.

By completely letting go of any sense of ego Broadbent is able to be wonderfully villainous in this film. A cartoon villain in the best sense, more so than even Ratchet. You have to remind yourself that it’s Broadbent doing the voice regularly because he just embraces Gasket’s villainy so totally.

13) Amanda Bynes as Piper.

Like Williams and Broadbent, Bynes has an energy to her tailor made for animation. It infects her character and is a perfect fit for the part, making Piper a wonderful treat in the film.

14) So. Man. Butt. Jokes. So. Freaking. Fast.

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15) I’m suck a sucker for found family dynamics, which is why I am so invested in Rodney and the the Outmodes together. There is this nice family dynamic established among the Outmodes very soon after meeting them, but they chose to be with each other. They’re lost, rusty, weird, but they can be that way together. I dig it.

16) I love this.

Rodney [after venting to Fender]: “If you burden your friends soon you won’t have any left.”

Fender: “What are you, a fortune cookie!? That’s what friends are for!”

17) The scene where Rodney is fixing up all the bots in town is not only wonderfully positive but also filled with that strong sense of humor I mentioned in note #10.

18) This line always stuck with me as a kid, I’m not sure why.

Madame Gasket [to Ratchet]: “Think! Use those brains I stole for you!”

19) The entire gag where Rodney is posing as a count and Bender as his manservant is an excellent example of the film’s energy and humor. There is just this wild sense of fun which can be seen in the scene which defines the whole film.

20) So when the opening credits started I saw Natasha Lyonne’s name…

And I thought to myself, “Wait, she’s in this movie?” Well it turns out, she is.

21) Halle Berry as Cappy.

Cappy isn’t really a developed character, I don’t think. She exists primarily as a moral compass juxtaposition against Ratchet who he lusts after, as a plot device to get Rodney out of trouble, and a shoehorned in love interest which is barely developed. This is not a criticism of Halle Berry’s performance, as I do think she’s good in the part. But what can we really say about Cappy? What can we say about her personality? That she’s…good? That’s about it. She’s a good guy. I could choke this poorly developed female character to sexism in the industry but the film also gave us Piper and Aunt Fanny and Mrs. Copperbottom who are all memorable characters in their own right. I just don’t really see the point for Cappy unfortunately.

22) The moment with the dominoes is brief but another fine example of visual excellence.

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23) Mel Brooks as Bigweld.

Brooks is a legend of the film industry both in front and behind the camera. As an actor he brings his wonderful sense of enthusiasm to the part, but also plays Bigweld’s jadedness remarkably well. You can tell how hurt he is in just a few words, but when he decides to pick himself up by the bootstraps and continue on Brooks is even more fun in the part.

24) I love this. You really understand just how much Mr. Copperbottom loves Rodney in just a few words.

Rodney [talking to his dad on the phone]: “I’m really sorry I let you down.”

Mr. Copperbottom: “No no no no no. You could NEVER let me down, son.”

25) Rodney’s ride on Bigweld continues the excellence in imagination and visuals the film has shown through a gripping set piece. With a wonderful sense of creativity and madcap fun throughout, the scene even lands a few surprises your way which make it all the more enjoyable.

26) The upgraded team is actually something which I think is really freaking cool. I just dig the visuals of it.

27) …what just happened?

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29) I’m a sucker for bringing a twist to a trope, so the way this scene handles “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” is great.

Bigweld [when their friends are in trouble]: “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” … [Rodney grabs Bigweld and cuts loose a support their on, acting as a giant pendulum to take out the bad guys.]

Bigweld: “THIS ISN’T WHAT I WAS THINKING AT ALL!”

30) This ending is a little cheesy but I dig it. It’s really fun, with a nice energy and good heart to it.

Crank [after Rodney’s dad starts playing music]: “Well, there goes our happing ending.”

Fender: “No! It’s a fusion of Jazz and Funk. It’s called JUNK!”

Robots is an underrated animated gym filled with a nice heart and an insane sense of humor. It’s voice acting and visual design are standout elements and al in all the film is just incredibly fun. Go watch it if you haven’t.

#Robots #Robots 2005 #Rodney Copperbottom #Robots Movie #Movie #Film #Epic Movie (Re)Watch #Ewan McGregor #Stanley Tucci #Robin Williams #Greg Kinnear #Jim Broadbent #Amanda Bynes #Mel Brooks #Halle Berry #Natasha Lyonne #GIF

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selfignitingimagines · 6 years

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Pieces On the Ground

A/N- So this is something I’ve been working on here and there for the past few months, and I was thinking I’d split it up in a little series. This is based off of the song Find You by Ruelle, hence the title. Let me know if you guys would like me to continue (I already have more parts written so it won’t be months and months this time) and let me know if you like it!

“Lydia...Lydia!”

You hissed her name as you put the car into park, but she only mumbled something into your passenger seat and shifted. Her hair was done up into a messy bun, and curls had fallen into her face, so you couldn’t tell whether she was awake or just dreaming.

You sighed and reached forward to shake her shoulder. “Lydia!”

She groaned and and rolled over, gazing at you from under strands of hair. “Where are we?”

“Rest stop,” you explained, nodding toward the dimly lit building. “I have to pee.”

She wiped her eyes and glanced toward the clock. It read 12:17am, and after a day of driving and college tours, all she wanted was sleep. She had switched off with you an hour ago, leaving you to drive the Toyota, and you were willing to let her get some rest, but you wanted to make sure she didn’t have to use the bathroom too.

“How far from home?” she mumbled, already closing her eyes again.

“About thirty minutes.”

She groaned once more and shifted in the uncomfortable seat. “Why’d you stop so close?”

“I really had to pee,” you insisted. “I’ll be right back. You don’t have to go too, do you?”

She shook her head, although to you it looked more like she was just flopping it around. You grinned and unclicked your seatbelt, and when you came back, you were definitely taking pictures of her to send to the rest of the pack.

“Lock the door,” you nagged, as you opened the driver’s side door and let cold air flow in.

“Turn the heat up,” she mumbled, but the only response she was met with was the slamming of the door. She huffed and pulled herself up, not even bothering to stretch her stiff limbs as she cranked up the heat in the car.

With her fingers still on the dial, she gave the rest stop and its parking lot one quick scan. It was brightly lit, and the area looked pretty nice, but she still watched you until you disappeared through the glass doors. Her eyes roved over the parking lot, which was empty, saved for one red pickup truck without a driver inside. It had a blue streak of paint over the side, as if something had sideswiped it, or maybe the truck had sideswiped something else.

The rest of the lot was empty, so Lydia simply locked the door, nestled back into the seat, tugged her sweater tighter around her, and drifted back off to sleep.

Inside the bathroom of the rest stop, you were just finishing washing your hands. Peering into the mirror, you examined your tired eyes and rubbed them with the back of your sleeve. Dark circles had appeared under them, but the long day had also been a lot of fun, and you didn’t really mind.

You flicked droplets from your hands as the water stopped running, and you grabbed a wad of paper towels from the dispenser to your right. After you tossed them in the trash, you walked out into the lobby and took a moment to stretch.

California travel brochures lined the wall, boasting things like water parks or deep holes that somehow qualified as roadside attractions. You yawned as you read over them, and stretched your arms out above your head.

You knew it was getting pretty late, and by the time you got back to Beacon Hills, everyone and everything, aside from the monsters that lurked there, would be asleep. You figured it was probably a good idea to head out, because you didn’t exactly want to get caught out in the dark with all the werewolves and wendigos.

You turned just as the doors on the other side of the lobby opened, and you glanced back to see a man walking through them. You didn’t really think anything of it, and your sleepy brain was too fried to get so much as a decent look at him.

When you turned, you planned on walking right through the glass doors and straight back to Lydia, on driving home and collapsing into her bed. Vigilance was the farthest thing on your mind when the man came up from behind and jerked you back by the waist. You barely had time to gasp before he was clapping a hand over your mouth, and you felt didn’t even realize the painful snap against your side was electricity.

Everything was suddenly sharp, and painful, and before you knew it, completely black.

She was still cold. That was the first thing on Lydia’s mind when she woke back up in the car, but as soon as she did, a sick feeling washed through her.

“Y/n?” she croaked.

As she wiped her bleary eyes and sat up, she suddenly realized the car wasn’t even moving. Her frantic look to the driver’s seat only confirmed her fears, and when she saw that it was empty, her gaze fell on the dashboard clock.

It had been a little after twelve when she woke up to find you pulled over, but now it was 1:32am.

Panic coursed through her as she threw open the door, and stumbled through the parking lot in her socked feet. There were no other cars in the lot now, and as she rushed under the dim and flickering lights, she knew she wasn’t going to find you. That didn’t stop her from bursting into the bathrooms and checking every stall, frantically calling out your name.

“Y/n?! Are you in here?! Y/n?!”

Please, she thought. Please, be here. Please be sick or hurt, just not gone.

But as she checked the last stall of the men’s bathroom, it was empty aside from the dusty toilet, and the one lone moth that had wandered in.

It fluttered around the dimly lit stall, bumping into the walls, seemingly trapped.

“No,” Lydia whispered, backing out of the bathroom and rushing back to the car. She ripped open the door and fumbled through fast food wrappers and empty water bottles, until she finally managed to find her phone.

The battery was dying, but as she dug around for the charger, she realized it was still connected to your phone. Her stomach began to twist itself into violent knots as it crossed her mind that if you really were gone, their chances of finding you would be a lot slimmer if you didn’t have your cell.

She dialed number after number, switching from Scott to Stiles in the hopes that one of them would wake up and answer.

Finally, after six minutes of pure torture, Scott picked up the phone.

“Lydia? What’s wrong?”

His voice was thick and groggy, and Lydia knew she had woken him up, but she didn’t care. “Y/n’s gone. We stopped at a rest stop, and I fell asleep, and I woke up, and now she isn’t here. I checked everywhere Scott. Both bathrooms and-”

“Lydia, slow down,” Scott commanded, now wide awake. “Where are you?”

“A rest stop off of 117. It was twelve something when I woke up and asked her what was going on, and she told me she had to pee. She got out, and I just fell back to sleep, Scott. But when I woke up, she hadn’t come back, and when I checked inside, she wasn’t there.”

“It’s been an hour?” He demanded.

“Yes,” Lydia whispered. “And something has to be wrong. I can feel it.”

“Okay, okay, I hear you. I’ll...I’ll call Stiles and Malia. Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out...and Lydia?”

“What?”

“That bad feeling...it’s not a banshee type of feeling is it?”

Lydia felt her throat go dry. “You mean a dead type of feeling?”

Scott didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and there was only silence on the line, until he reluctantly said “Yeah.”

Lydia swallowed, and stared up at the flickering fluorescent lights. “I’m honestly not sure.”

Scott sighed in relief. “That’s better than the alternative. Don’t worry. We’ll find out what happened.”

After the line went dead, Lydia walked out to the car in the abnormally cold night, and wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn’t find the will to move into the warmth and out of the breeze, not when there were still clues to find.

She closed her eyes and listened, trying to find any trace of you. Even after gaining control of her powers, she still wasn’t sure how banshee communication worked, and she had very little past experience to work with.

Meredith had delivered a message from her when she had been taken by the Nogitsune, but even then, that hadn’t done much good.

You had barely figured out how to use your powers as well, and with all the bodies the two of you had been finding lately, you hadn’t exactly had time. No matter how hard Lydia listened in, she couldn’t find a trace of you. All she heard was empty voices, whispering in the cold air, and none of them were yours.

“What happened?”

The slamming of doors caused Lydia to flinch, and she shifted on the pavement as Scott and Stiles rushed over. Your boyfriend’s brown eyes, which were normally wild with curiosity, were wild with worry.

“Mr. Tate caught Malia sneaking out,” Scott explained, although no one else seemed to be listening. “She’s going to be late.”

“What happened?” Stiles asked again.

“I don’t know,” Lydia whispered helplessly.

“What do you mean?” he demanded. “You said someone took her.”

“It had to be. She wouldn’t just walk out of here...but I didn’t see it. I was asleep.”

“You let her go in alone?”

“Stiles, it’s an empty rest-stop-”

“Yeah, apparently it wasn’t empty enough,” he snapped, causing Lydia to flinch once more.

“Stiles,” Scott scolded, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.

The Brunette shook his head, took a deep breath, and gazed around the deserted parking lot. “Okay, fine. Tell me everything you saw, everything you felt. From the beginning.”

Lydia brushed back the hair in her eyes, and nodded dutifully. Stiles watched intently as she explained, his knuckles pressed against his mouth in thought.

“...totally empty except for the truck. I couldn’t see the other side, but-”

“Wait, what truck?”

“Um, it was other there.” Lydia pointed to a parking spot several away from her own. “It was red, and there was no one in it.”

“Did you see the plate?” Stiles asked hopefully.

“No...but there was a streak of paint on the side of it. Blue, I think.”

“So she was taken by someone in a red truck with a blue streak on the side.”

He said it like a statement, but Lydia still wasn’t entirely sure. She may have been the one closest to you when you disappeared, but she was just as lost as Scott and Stiles. “I...I don’t know.”

Stiles’ lips twisted into a deeper frown, and Scott leaned in toward Lydia, raising his dark brows. “How are you so sure she didn’t just walk off to find a body? I mean, she’s done it before.”

Lydia shook her head. “This is different. Whatever feeling I got from her, it felt...not normal.”

“Going off to find dead bodies is normal?”

“It is for us,” she said softly.

“She’s got a point,” Stiles told him begrudgingly. “And if Y/n walked off to find a body, she would have found it by now. It’s been...what? Two hours since Lydia saw her?”

The Strawberry-blonde nodded, and tightened her arms around herself. “I should have followed her in. I should have just stayed awake.”

“Maybe not,” Scott offered. “They could have taken you too, or maybe done worse. We wouldn’t have even known something was wrong without you.”

She nodded gratefully, and while her fear wasn’t eased by his words, she could appreciate them. Scott squeezed her shoulder, and she leaned into him in the cool night air, accepting the comfort he had to give.

Stiles, on the other hand, had no comfort to offer. The only thing he could give Lydia was a stoic, determined look. “We have to find her. And if someone really did take her, we need to find out exactly what happened. You said the truck was over here?”

He crossed to the other parking space in about five strides, and stood on the empty asphalt. There was nothing special about the spot, and nothing that set it aside from the others, other than some trash on the ground.

“Yeah,” she said. “About three spots away.” “Was she here?” he asked, turning to Scott. “You could tell right?”

The Alpha nodded, and stepped forward. “But she could have just walked by it, Stiles.”

“She didn’t when she went in,” Lydia told him. “She went the other way.”

“But maybe when she went out…” Scott added.

“If she went out,” she corrected.

Stiles swallowed, hating the tone of voice she was using. She sounded like you were already gone, like there was no chance of finding you. “Maybe someone forced her...or took her by surprise.”

“She’s been here,” Scott informed them, staring quizzically at the ground. “But I can’t pick up much. It’s muted, like she was unconscious...and maybe in pain.” “What about inside?” Stiles asked.

“We can check-”

“I’m not going back in there,” Lydia snapped suddenly.

There was no venom in her voice, but it was shaky and scared, and Stiles felt a twinge of pity.

“What did you hear?” he asked softly.

She shook her head. “Nothing that would help.”

“Lydia, come on-”

“I’ll go in,” Scott offered, holding up his hands passively. “You two can stay out here. See if you can find anything else.”

He turned away, and Stiles and Lydia watched as his jacket disappear through the doors of the building the same way you had disappeared from her.

“You know, whatever you heard, it’s not going to scare me.”

Lydia scoffed in response, and Stiles crossed his arms over his chest. “What? It’s not. Not if it could help.” “It can’t,” she said firmly, glaring at him with a fire in her green eyes. “And you’re wrong anyway. I see the way you look at her Stiles.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And it won’t do any good,” she told him, looking away and gazing out at the parking lot instead. “You’re already terrified something will happen to her on a normal day.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” he said quietly. “And right now, she’s out there and she’s in trouble, and she’s alone. That’s what I’ve always been afraid of.”

“She can’t be that far,” Lydia said. “And even if she was…”

She trailed off suddenly, and Stiles looked over at her. “What? Even if she was, what?”

“Do you see that?”

She pointed a few feet in front of them, to the area where the truck had been parked. What she originally thought had just been trash on the ground, looked like a little something more.

She stepped off the sidewalk and walked over, only to crouch by a crumpled piece of paper. It was slightly torn, and wrinkled as if it had been crushed by something, but it was still intact.

“What is it?” Stiles asked, kneeling beside her.

His fingers itched to touch the clue, and he reached out, but she quickly snatched it up toward her face. “It’s a photocopy...of a book.”

“A book? What book?”

“I don’t know. These words look like...like Archaic Latin.” “Latin?” he repeated. “Well, what does it say?”

“It says...well, I’m not sure about a few words, but...oh god.” “What? What is it?!”

“That word,” she said, placing a painted fingernail on the paper. “Hostia. Which I’m pretty sure means the same thing as sacrificium.”

Stiles’ blood ran cold. “Please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it means.”

Lydia was staring intently at the page, trailing over the words, but as she read on, her expression only darkened. “Lydia?”

She looked up at him, her green eyes watering with fearful tears. “This is-” “Guys?”

The pair jumped, and they looked over to see that Scott had come to stand behind them. “Why are you on the ground?”

“What did you find?” Stiles demanded, rising to his feet.

“You were right about someone taking her by surprise,” he said softly. “Her chemosignals were all shock. And it smelled like electricity...like maybe someone tasered her. I don’t even think she had time to be afraid.”

Stiles swallowed thickly, and nodded. He had already prepared himself for news like that. “We found something too,” he explained. “It’s a photocopy of a book. Looks like it might have slipped out of a car or something.”

“What kind of book?” “Something written in Latin.”

“Archaic Latin,” Lydia corrected. “And it’s not just not a page from a book. It’s talking about a sacrifice.”

“A human sacrifice?” Scott choked.

Lydia shook her head once. “Not human. A banshee.”

“No,” Stiles said, paling even further than he already had. “No. No that can’t...we’re not even sure it came from the kidnapper.”

“Stiles, how can this be a coincidence?” Lydia snapped. “Whoever it was must have been looking for a banshee. He was watching us, and he took her.”

“And why didn’t he take you, huh?” Stiles demanded.

“Because she made me lock the doors,” Lydia cried, her voice breaking. “She made me lock them, and she was by herself, and probably easier to get to.”

Scott reached out to rub her shoulder, shooting a sharp look at Stiles. “This isn’t her fault.”

The smaller boy sighed, and nodded. “Sorry. I know.”

“Does it say what they took her for?” Scott asked quietly.

“I’d have to double check the translation,” she said, still clutching the paper. “But I think it’s some kind of ritual...I think it’s to bring somebody back to life.”

“Necromancy?” Stiles demanded, his voice echoing in the empty parking lot.

“Is that entirely crazy?” Scott asked. “I mean, death is kind of you and Y/n’s thing.”

Lydia shook her head. “It’s not. And there’s something else here. Something about the moon. I think it’s the full moon.”

“The next one is in four days,” Scott informed them. “That’s…”

“Too close,” Stiles finished for him.

Lydia bit the inside of her cheek, and looked between the two of them. “There’s something else I have to tell you. What I heard earlier, the voices, they were telling me about her. I don’t think it’ll help us find her, but they said if we didn’t do it soon…” “What?” Stiles demanded. “Jesus, Lydia, spit it out.”

He watched as her green eyes moved from him to Scott, and her pink lips parted and then closed once more. Whatever she was trying to say, it was a struggle, causing Stiles to huff impatiently.

Finally, Lydia took a deep breath, and fixed her gaze on Stiles. “If we don’t find her, she’s going to die.”

Stiles closed his eyes, trying to convince himself his world wasn’t falling apart. You had been through too much together for him to lose you, for you to just be gone like this. He knew he had to find you, but he also knew he couldn’t do it by himself.

He was going to have to tell his dad, and he didn’t even know where to start with that. You practically lived at the Stilinski’s. You were a part of the family. Stiles knew the Sheriff was going to be devastated, but he also knew that he was going to do whatever it took to find you.

Scott and Lydia would do the same, but for all their power, Stiles wasn’t sure if they could find you in time. If Lydia was right, and they really had four days to find you, that wasn’t a lot of time. Stiles knew better than anyone that they had lost before. He had almost lost himself when the Nogitsune was controlling him. But you were one of the people who had helped pull him back, and he wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers.

He was going to hold onto you the same way you had held onto him, and in that moment, standing there under the cold light of the stars above, he swore to himself that he would find you.

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #Find You series #stiles stilinski imagines

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wordsaboutmusic101 · 7 years

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The Power of the Playlist: How the Right Music Takes You From Zero to Hero

Blood rushing through her veins, the sound of feet pounding against the squeaky whirring machinery, weights clanging against each other and collapsing onto the hard ground, the heavy breathing of those around her, yet she hears nothing. Nothing but the heavy beats and motivating lyrics twisting through her headphones and wrapping around her body as a guide through her work out. She lands her gaze on the powerful figure in the mirror, with the intensity of a lioness in their eyes, growing stronger with every strum of a chord. This is the power of music.

If you asked me last semester if I have ever felt powerful at a gym, I would have laughed right on the spot. Every time I went to the gym I looked like a fish out of water, dying and miserable.

One day I was heaving a little more than usual at the gym, and I looked around to see if anyone could hear my pain, when I realized every person there had headphones in. I was the only fool suffering, so I decided the next step was to leave the gym and try again later, but with music the next time.

Fast forward to this semester and I’m in the gym again after months, armed with music that I believe can pump me up. What I hypothesized was, running on a treadmill for five consecutive minutes instead of one. But I ran for 15 minutes straight, music powering me, sending out waves of dopamine transmitters that propelled my psyche to keep moving forward. For the first time ever, I felt powerful at the gym. Music helped me achieve the impossible, and it started with the hard beats and heavy EDM vibes of CRAZY by 4 Minute.

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The sound of muted snares and warped horns paired with samples of clapping, glass breaking, and more, makes it easier to find a rhythm perfect for running. Once a person matches their pace with the strong beats this song offers, they won’t feel like they’re running anymore, they will feel like they’re chasing someone. At least, that’s what I had experienced. I began to think, I’m not the prey, I’m the predator, the lioness, the biggest power house. This song helps people realize that its not about keeping pace, its about making the pace. And I set a pace that finally had me running with a smile on my face.

The most important part of having a work out playlist is to have each song make you stronger and more powerful than the next. So when Gucci came on by my favorite “girl power” Korean rapper Jessi, I wasn’t just running, I was FLYING.

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Jessi owns the girl power image, and this song emulates that perfectly. She gives her haters a run for their money by ignoring their comments and loving herself, her music, and her opinions. She’s never afraid to speak her mind, whether it be through music programs or public appearances. This strength translates though her music with lines like “Cause I’m self made. Ain‘t no body ever made me”, and transfers power to her audience as well. So when Gucci comes on, no matter where I am, what I’m doing, or the time of day, I am empowered. And in this situation I’m empowered to run faster and harder than before. And surprisingly, even with sweat dripping down my face and sliding down my neck, in the words of the queen herself, “I feel like Gucci”.

As Gucci plays its last chord I start to tire out thinking about how anyone else could power me like Jessi does. But that thought was immediately retracted as strong base and a heavy EDM vibe made its way through my body.

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CL’s MTBD is a mix of crazy, wild, and fun. The track builds through the repetition of random sounds and sampling. The steady rise of the beat helps build a new pace for runners. As the music builds, the faster your pace develops, until finally, the base drops and the pace is set. Before, I could feel every step that I took on a treadmill, but now I can only feel the music trapped in my body, looking for a way out through the steps that I take. Every word pitched and every base thrown gives me the strength to run on. Any feelings of fatigue that may have started to creep in were completely obliterated as I heard “the base go BOOM”.

After MTBD’s last beat had dropped I was ready to call it quits. But just as I set my mind to cutting my exercise short, my playlist blasted THE girl power anthem of the year, “Gashina” by Sunmi

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I have already written a review about this iconic women empowering bop that can be read here. Gashina revolves around the importance of loving yourself, even if the person you love doesn’t reciprocate those feelings. It empowers women to find themselves and seek out individuality and independence. In fact, I ooze power as I listen to this song. Every time she repeats

“I’m gonna live like a flower, I’ll be myself Can’t nobody stop me now No try me”

I think of my own past and experiences and it gives me the strength to chase down the version of myself that I am strive to be. The version of myself that does not care about what others think, and is ready to bloom. Therefore, even though I was tired and on the edge of quitting, Sunmi found her place in my head and in my heart and pushed me to continue chasing after the image of myself that I could see in the mirror running before me, proud, strong, and powerful.

At this point I’ve been running for a record of 12 minutes straight. Music has transported me to a world of women empowerment and chasing down insecurities with self love and recognition. I’m ready to keep up with these girl power anthems when all of a sudden, Im transported into a different world. A world with 11 cute boys, strong vocals, and raps that could kill. Or in other words, the world of Wanna One.

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“Energetic” by Wanna One has a history with me and many memories attached to it. Wanna One is a South Korean boy group that was made on the hit reality tv show on Mnet called Produce 101. I have saw them all throughout the reality series, and watched all of the members overcome their individual hardships (including illness) to become a band and debut. There are no words for the amount of pride I feel when I hear this song. Although this song is not technically a “workout” song, it gets me moving more than any other song on my playlist. The adrenaline rushes through my body, and finds its escape through running. And somehow I find myself cranking up the pace to match the energy that is trapped inside my body.

It’s finally hit the 15 minute mark and the treadmill starts to slow as my time is up. I’m in shock. It felt like I just got on the treadmill, but it’s already time to leave. I never understood the power of music until I experienced it myself.

In brief, a playlist of songs that mean something to you, that empower you, and transport you to other realms can inspire you to keep chasing your goals, whether that be the distance of a treadmill or the dream you’ve held onto since childhood. As I write this review and ponder over the experiences I’ve had in the gym, and the experiences that I may have in the future, I’m lead to one overarching thought to myself.

“You can never delete this playlist.”

#wanna one #energetic #produce 101 #sunmi #gashina #hyuna #4minute #cl #jessi #gucci #universe jessi #playlist #workout playlist #kpop workout #kpop

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