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spookymultimedia · 2 years

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The one that got away

Dwight becoms close friends with Andy after they break it off with Andy. While Andy is glad he's not with her anymore, Dwight is left still thinking about their relationship.

Dwight didn't know why he ever hated Andy Bernard. The months he had spent feeling annoyed and bitter didn't amount to anything. He didn't see Andy as a person but as a competitor for Angela's affections. Everytime he smiled at Dwight it looked, to him, malicious. Anytime he brought up Cornell it was like salt to the wound. 'Look at me I'm Andy Bernard. I went to college. I didn't grow up in a barn. Angela loves me. I've got a bigger dick than you and you know it. You hardly even have a dick.' Okay, maybe he wasn't thinking ALL of that, but Dwight definitely felt inferior. Angela seemed to just love him, thus, he felt inferior by those standards. Did he care about what Angela thought too much? He wasn't jealous, he was just angry that he had what he couldn't have.

When they discovered what Angela did they were stunned. They were utterly crushed. Dwight remembered everything perfectly. They both looked into each other's expressions and in that moment every ounce of anger and resentment had vanished and melted into mutual sympathy. Andy didn't know anything, he didn't know they had dated. He didn't know Angela was seeing Dwight on her own terms. He felt used and lied to. He started to wonder if Angela even loved him? Did he just seem that pathetic to her? Did anyone love him? Was he just unlovable? Dwight also felt used. Why the fuck would she say that she hated him and then turn around and do those things with him. Did they mean nothing to her??? Did she just see him as someone to fuck with. He was exhausted. He had enough with her hypocrisy. Andy gently pulled his car away, Dwight braced himself expecting to get hurt but he didn't hurt him. He parked his car and ran over to Dwight.

"Shit are you okay?? I'm so sorry. This was stupid. I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to be mad. Are you hurt?" Dwight shook his head, still in shock of what Andy had told him.

"Are you sure?" Dwight hissed through his teeth at the bruise on his thigh.

"Damn, you used your car. . .that's- that's kinda smart of you." He admitted and let out a forced laugh.

"I- I guess." Andy said hesitantly with worry glued to his face. "Did I hurt you?"

"Just a little." Dwight waved him off, tears burned at the edge of his eyes, not from any physical pain though. "I've had worse. I'm sorry about your car. I can cover that for you, you know."

"Nah, I deserve it for being an asshole over some girl." He walked with Dwight back up to the office.

"So. . . are you still gonna marry her?" Dwight asked in the elevator.

"Nope. Are you gonna go for her then?"

"I think that me and Angela need a long break from each other." Dwight's voice shook slightly. He wanted to scream and cry right there but he held back his emotions. It would be stupid to waste his feelings on someone who didn't deserve it. A tear rolled down his cheek but he blinked and wiped it away before Andy could notice. Andy did notice though, but he didn't mention it.

"Yeah, I understand. I honestly don't think I'll talk to her ever again." He sounded completely serious.

Weeks later the two men had grown closer, they might have even considered each other friends and the two getting along had annoyed everyone more than when they didn't get along. And no, they were not at all sorry for annoying anyone with their friendship. Yes, they were still a bit competitive, it was in their blood, but it never got violent or personal. It was all in good fun. They even started to hang out outside of work. They had way more in common than they thought. Andy wasn't malicious at all, it was all in Dwight's head after all.

Andy was funny, had a great taste in film, a great banjo player, an awesome singer and someone who Dwight enjoyed having long conversation with. He learned about his father's boat and his time in college. Apparently Andy was originally going to be a physical therapist but switched majors when he found his true passions. Dwight thought it was illogical but didn't say anything about it. Dwight told him about Battlestar Galactica and his time at the Renaissance fair. He offered Andy to come along with him next year.

He didn't tell Andy about how he missed Angela every night. He didn't tell him how much he missed her smile or how she felt in his arms. He didn't allow himself to cry. He was done with crying over her. He needed to man up and stop being a huge baby about it. Real men don't cry over some girl. He was fine. He was just fine.

Dwight was out with Andy one night, riding in the passenger seat of Andy's car listening to the radio. They had a great time and Andy was off to go back to hang out with Dwight for the right of the night. Not like a sleepover or anything, this was totally not a sleepover. Andy had control over the station. He claimed that it was his car so it was in his control. Dwight thought it was only fair so he didn't argue much. Somehow the topic of Angela's crush on Charles Miner had been brought up.

"Yeah, he'd be good for her I guess."

"He's way out of her lauge if you ask me." Andy debated. His tone was slightly bitter.

"I guess. Do you still think about her sometimes?" He looked over at Andy, the car lights lit up his face a bit.

"Not really. I'd rather just forget about her. She's not worth my energy." Andy started to sing. "Never gonna let her hit my stride, never gonna let her slow me down. Ooh! I've got to keep on moving."

Dwight laughed with him and smiled a little.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you ever think about Angela?"

"Pfff, no I don't" Dwight lied.

"Cool." He drummed his fingers on the wheel idly. Dwight grimaced when he saw the name Katy Perry on the radio.

"Ugh."

"What? I thought you liked pop music."

"Yeah, stuff like Imagine Dragons and Fallout Boy. This is for little girls."

"If you say so. I think some of her songs are pretty cool."

Dwight rolled his eyes. Andy drove off into an exit that lead away from the city and into the more rural side of town. The road was isolated and more curvy.

'I was June and you where my Johnny Cash. Never one without the other. We made a pact. And sometimes when I miss you I put those records on.'

A knot grew in the back of his throat. He recalled the times he has spent with Angela on this very road. The long talks they had. The times they laid out under the stars. The feeling of his hand on her waist in bed as they slept together. The sound of her laughter and feel of her lips. His eyes watered up. He swallowed and took a deep breath. He wanted to switch the song off but he felt frozen there, with his body refusing to move.

'All this money can't buy me a time machine, woah. I can't replace you with a million rings.'

He bit his lip and tried to keep calm. 'Don't cry, don't cry. Men don't cry. Only weak men cry.' The thought to himself.

"I take a left up here correct?" He looked over at Dwight. He noticed Dwight's face all twisted up. "Yes." He hiccuped.

"You okay bro?" He took a turn onto a dirt road.

'I should have told you what you meant to me, woah. 'Cause now I pay the price.'

He covered his mouth and started to cry. Andy swerved onto the grass and looked at him.

"Dwight?" He turned on the car light and looked over at his friend. Tears where streaming down his face. He hid face in his hands, his glasses crooked over his hand. Andy looked at him surprised. He had never seen the man cry before, well, except for after that duel over Angela. Was this about her? He got out of the car and met Dwight on his side of the door and opened it. "Hey, what's wrong?" He leaned down and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, unsure how much he wanted to be touched. Dwight pulled Andy into a hug, with his face pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around his waist with a killer grip.

"Woah- oh- okay." It was a physiclly awkward position with himself leaned into Dwight, practically in his lap. This was fine. He patted his back. He couldn't say this was the first time he had gotten this close to another man. Dwight was still crying.

"Let's head inside okay?" Dwight let him go slowly. Andy walked back over to the divers side and drove up to his house. When they got inside Andy opened his arms to him, "Come here."

He was still unprepared for the gusto of Dwight's hug. He hugged like a freight train. He topped a little but kept his balance. Dwight sniffled against his shoulder. "Are you still in love with Angela?" He looked over at his face. Dwight looked up at him with big hopeless eyes. His eyes where sapphire blue against his tears. His heart dropped for the man. Holy shit. "Oh. . .oh Dwight." He frowned and petted his back.

"I'm stupid aren't I?" Dwight mumbled.

"No, you're not stupid."

"I'd do anything for her. I'd wall through hell and back just to be with her."

"Like that Opheus guy with Eurydice?"

Andy quietly recalled the story, it was a tragedy.

"Yeah. . .God I'm stupid. She doesn't love me."

"Maybe not. . ." He let Dwight go. He went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of beet juice, after giving Mose an awkward nod in the hallway. Dwight sipped the juice.

"You probably think I'm silly for crying."

"What?? Hell no." He smiled. "Wanna watch that one Don Bluth movie with the magic mouse?"

" You mean Secret of NIMH? They aren't magical, they're highly intelligent. I don't know, you might think it's boring."

"Well do you like it?"

"Yeah I love it."

"Then I think we should watch it." Andy put an arm around his shoulder.

"Fine." He put in the VHS tape and sat on the couch with Andy. He was right, it was really long and only had like one song. Some parts where kinda creepy but he was just glad to see Dwight smile. After awhile Andy ended up laying on his side over Dwight's lap with Andy's head on a couch pillow. His belly was touching Dwight's lap. By the end of the movie Andy was half awake.

#the office #the office fanfiction #dwight schrute #andy bernard #dwangela #dwandy #just a little at the end #Spotify

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heartshapedcas · 2 years

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Was tagged by @castielsupernatural @emeraldcas and @pinkinthenightdean to do this! (Thanks pals mwah💖)

rules: answer some questions and tag 20 people you are contractually obligated to get to know better

name: Maddy!

star sign: sigh. Leo

height: 5'4

time: 11:15pm

birthday: August 6th (this question just made me realize how close I am to being 28! yikes!)

favourite bands/artists: lord huron, first aid kit, hozier, Allison ponthier, Phoebe bridgers, etc etc

last movie: watched the second venom movie with my cousin for her bday

last show: um. The originals, once again my cousin picks all my media for me, sorry for watching bad TV I run a supernatural blog

when did i create this blog: I made this sideblog in like, march or april of last year I think?

what i post: Supernatural! Things that remind me of supernatural! Nature! Music! Roadtrip things!

last thing i googled: big eden, to see if I could find a place to watch it online!

other blogs: my main is @sendmetothemountains

do i get asks: once in a while yeah and I love it<3

following: 746 (tons are inactive though I've had my main since like 2015)

average hours of sleep: usually 6 to 7 hrs

instruments: OOOOHHH OK I only really play my acoustic guitar <3 but I have a problem where I buy(or am gifted) instruments with the intention of learning to play them and never do, SO I also have a violin, banjo, 12 string guitar, mandolin, harmonica, djembe, an electric guitar, and the piano my family still has which I sort of remember how to play from when I took lessons as a kid! I love instruments

what I'm wearing: black shorts and a tie dye shirt that says keep choosing love

dream job: *nervous laughter* god I wish I knew the answer to this question

dream trip: roadtrip with the mutuals ok but also I've always wanted to go to Ireland and I've always wanted to go to Iceland! I also think it would be cool to do a cross Canada roadtrip, but I also want to do a roadtrip all the way down the coast, but also a roadtrip up to Alaska, honestly, idk, literally anything, any trip, every trip

nationality: canadian

favourite songs: a few all time faves: just like heaven by the cure, landslide (the chicks version), from eden by hozier, emmylou by first aid kit

and a few more current faves: long lost, ends of the earth, la belle fleur sauvage, love like ghosts, the birds are singing at night ALL by lord huron, angel by first aid kit, the man himself and forbearance by gang of youths, halls of sarah and this tornado loves you by neko case, ceilings by lizzy mcalpine, julia by hollie col, lafayette, hexie mountains, kalahari down by orville peck, bees by the ballroom thieves, make it holy by the staves, good legs by jensen mcrae. Ok. Forcing myself to stop, sorry

last book I've read: I haven't finished it yet but I'm reading Time is a Mother by Ocean Vuong!

top 3 fictional universes I'd like to live in: stealing Sophie's answer of the fictional cell universe she invented and also her tags answer of halloweentown. Also stealing Sammy and Mel's answer of lotr universe, we have no original thoughts here sorry<3

I'm assuming everyone has either done this already/doesn't want to, because I was tagged while I was away! But I'm gonna tag some pals anyway<3 if u guys want to and haven't yet! @theghostontheshoremp3 @tornadocountrymp3 @meatmensch @monstermoviedean @jasminecas @cuntcas @heartcastiel @queerstudiesnatural @tiarnanabhfainni @cashairytits @blushmp3 @novaklesbian 💓💓💓

#jay i tried to type in ur old url like 5 times and was so confused that it wasnt working rip fjdhdjdhssh #maddy.spam #tag thing

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randomcollectionitem · 7 months

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Chick Corea And Béla Fleck - The Enchantment

https://www.discogs.com/release/1446687-Chick-Corea-And-B%C3%A9la-Fleck-The-Enchantment

Please join me in mourning here at the funeral for my internet music nerd cool points, because I'm about to talk about how I like this album.

The Enchantment is a 2007 collaborative album between two relatively polarizing artists in the world of jazz: Chick Corea (a virtuoso pianist best known by most for his synth-tastic 70s and 80s jazz fusion with groups like Return to Forever and his Elektric Band) and Béla Fleck (a virtuoso banjo player best known for putting slap bass together with electric banjo shredding in the 90s with his group The Flecktones). They're both solidly in the "love it or hate it" world of music. Chick and Béla both came originally from the more traditional end of their genres (jazz and bluegrass respectively) and both leapt wholeheartedly into the world of weird and generally uncool music. As an ardent jazz fusion apologist I'm naturally a huge Chick Corea fan. I also love his more avant-garde recordings, and his more straight ahead jazz. As for Béla Fleck, I've always been more partial to his acoustic work, both his early bluegrass recordings and his more out-there modern acoustic recordings.

So where does The Enchantment lie? It's all-acoustic, which by 2007 was starting to become the norm again for both players and continues to be my preference for Béla's work, and features no additional players and no overdubs. Musically, I'd say it's jazz-adjacent. The general writing style feels very reminiscent of Chick's writing on My Spanish Heart and much of his other Spanish-influenced 70s work, despite Béla having the majority of the writing credits on the album (6 to Chick's 4, with the 11th credit going to Ary Barroso for their use of his classic 1939 tune Brazil). Interestingly it also won a Latin Grammy for Best Instrumental Album, which was not on my bingo card for things that would come up on this blog but apparently should have been.

An instrumental piano & banjo duo album feels like a dangerous sort of record to try and make, especially with the goal of the album being to feel like a true duo recording rather than an accompanist & soloist arrangement. I think it's testament to the profound level of skill and experience of both players that this record sounds like anything more than a mess. While the playing is virtuosic and frequently quite busy, it's very clear that both players are really listening to and engaging with each other. I don't like to get on my high horse about listening to music ~as a musician~ (whatever that really means), but this is an album where that sort of musical synchronicity and mutual respect really sticks out to me in a way that may be less apparent to non-musicians, who may focus more on the speed and precision of many of these parts. On a related note, I particularly love the unison lines on this album. It's fascinating to me how they can both play the same thing at the same time and blend while also still sounding radically like themselves and often quite different from each other, with Chick's playing taking a more fluid, flourishing style and Béla tending more towards very tight and precise lines. You can tell there's a deep level of listening happening between the players, and it's a pleasure to hear.

Similarly, I'm really impressed by the mix on this album. While it may not immediately jump out, I can tell you from experience that this is not an easy sort of combo to mix. Piano has an extremely large sound that dominates the frequency band (particularly with a player like Chick, who tends to play wide across multiple octaves), whereas banjo has a small, clicky sound, very narrowly focused on a much smaller band of highs and high mids. It's tough to balance those in a way that sounds both even and natural, and I think Bernie Kirsch did a great job. I'm sure the legendary mastering expertise of Bernie Grundman (a double Bernie event!) helped here too.

The copy in front of me is the original 2007 US CD release on Concord. The album has never been issued on vinyl, and has never been reissued outside of a 2021 Japan-only SHM-CD release (a running theme you'll see on here with many jazz albums). The liner notes are simple but effective, with clear credits, a centerfold photo of the recording session, and some Special Thanks (including a shout-out to L. Ron Hubbard, who was also not on my bingo card for this blog but should come as no surprise since Chick was a devout Scientologist from the 70s on through the rest of his life). The graphic design and presentation of the whole thing is pretty ugly in that classic 00s way. And honestly I don't know that it looked great at the time either, but I guess Creed did mad numbers back then so what do I know? Regardless, the wacky carnival font and goofy digital collage on the front cover are sure to turn most modern listeners off right from the start. I can't imagine someone who isn't already a fan of one or both artists ever picking this up from the rack and giving it a shot.

That being said, those that do pick it up are in for a treat. There's a lot of great playing and songwriting on this, and while I doubt it would make a top 10 list for either artist involved I think that's more of a testament to the significance and reach of their careers rather than a slight against the album itself. If you like either or both artists I highly recommend giving this one a listen. If you're not familiar with them this may not be the most informative starting point, but it's certainly not a bad one. This is also an excellent listen for anyone who plays an instrument; there's a lot to learn here about top-level interplay and listening. Check it out if that sounds like your sort of thing. And until next time, may your graphic design stay tasteful and may your playing stay tasty.

#album review #chick corea #béla fleck #jazz #jazz fusion #latin jazz #The Enchantment #Concord Records #discogs #random collection item

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nat-20s · 3 years

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Part 8 of the wonderful! Au: the boys answer some questions! Up to you to decide if they actually clarify anything!

(also on AO3)

~*~

Martin: Hey everyone! I know what some of you are thinking right now: it's not Tuesday, why is this episode in my feed? I know significantly more of you are thinking: I don't consistently keep up with podcast releases, how much free time do you think I have, buddy? To answer your queries: this is a bonus episode! We're answering listener questions to clear the air and/or have fun. Also, I don't know, around 20 to 40 minutes a week, as that is the average amount of time per episode? Maybe during your commute? My husband's omnipotence has been gone for five years, we just have to guess at that sort of thing now.

Jon: For legal reasons, that last statement was a joke. In fact, to cover all of our bases, we do not guarantee that any of our responses are genuine.

Martin: Just because we say we'll answer things doesn't mean we'll answer truthfully. Though, honestly, I think we might make it more enjoyable if we do tell the truth. Like, I don't necessarily have a fun lie prepared for our first question from konspiracyking97: "What's their fuckin deal anyway?"

Jon: Is this referring to the oblique references we've made about being from a parallel reality and only ending up here as a consequence of ending one apocalypse and potentially starting another or the general premise of the show?

Martin: Oh, it's gotta be general premise, yeah?

Jon: In that case, I'm Jon, the other voice you're hearing is Martin, we're married, and we talk about things that are..nice? Good? Usually generally but occasionally rather specifically pleasant.

Martin: That pretty much covers it. It's not a complicated show. Uhh, next question comes from Shane: are either or both of you aliens? Nope!

Jon: Well..

Martin: No. We are 100% human people from Earth, we are under no definition extraterrestrial.

Jon: Eh..

Martin: Okay, first off, I know the tone of that 'eh' and "not fully human" is not synonymous with alien, so even if 100% is being a bit generous, we're still from the same planet as our listeners.

Jon:..

Jon: But. We sort of aren't though. Technically speaking.

Martin: No no no no no. I don't care if it's parallel, Earth is Earth is Earth, regardless of whatever nonsense metaphysics might be occurring.

Jon: So what you're saying is that if you got sucked through a portal and landed on an Earth where dinosaurs were still the predominant species, you wouldn't consider yourself to be an alien?

Martin: Nope!

Jon: I'm certain that they would consider you an alien. All of their mammals are probably shrew sized.

Martin: Sounds like a them problem.

Jon: Sounds like a-?! You know what, no, this will be an off the record debate, for now, I suppose I concede that the two Earths and our physiologies are similar enough that we might, maybe, not count as aliens.

Martin: Thank you. Anyway, our next question is from anonymous, and asks, "Is all of this an ARG?"

Jon: A whomst?

Martin: Alternate reality game. It's a method of storytelling that's interactive with audience, and usually has, I dunno, a certain suspension of disbelief to it where it pretends to be something actually happening in the real world until a dramatic reveal. A lot times it was used as a marketing gimmick, but others have done it just for fun. I can show you some examples after the show?

Jon: So it's in essence a more involved creepypasta?

Martin, delighted: Aw, babe, I'm never going to have a handle on what pop culture you are and aren't aware of, huh?

Jon: We were born within a year of each other, and I've told you that I was a deeply morbid teenager, you should probably be able to intuit some of things, love.

Martin: This coming from a man who has yet to see "It's a Wonderful Life", but has seen every film in the "Banjo Cannibals" franchise, including the Easter special. Jesus doesn't exist in the Banjo Cannibals universe, why does it have an Easter special?

Jon: The movies are rather shoddily translated from Russian, so I'm fairly certain the Easter component of that special was invented wholesale in the English version.

Martin: You say that like it answers more questions than it raises.

Jon: Yes, because it does. Oh, and to answer anonymous's question, no, this isn't an ARG. From my understanding of it, if it were, it'd be a poorly constructed one, as there's no real game element to any of this.

Martin: Hmm. Well, sometimes the game component is just trying to figure out what's going on with the story, or if there's any deeper content, and people are definitely doing that with this show.

Jon: That's not by design though. It's more a side effect of us having poor brain to mouth filters, I'd say.

Martin: Harsh, but fair. Oh, this next one is from Zac, no K, who asks, "Are you two actually even married?"

Jon, flat: We are, but it's under false names because this whole thing is an elaborate insurance scam.

Jon, incredulous: Yes, obviously, we're married. What did you hear in this podcast that would make you wonder otherwise, and how do we rectify it?

Martin: Clearly we need to up our quota for how "disgustingly in love" and "horrifically sappy" we are per episode. Which segues nicely into the next question from Gwen, "What's your favourite wonderful thing you've brought so far?" My answer: my husband. He's kind of my favourite in most things, you know?

Jon: Boooooo

Martin: Why, what's your favourite thing?

[Jon reluctantly sighs]

Jon, indulgent: being married.

Martin: A: serves you right for trying to pretend you're the less horrifically sappy and romantic one even though earlier today someone put a love note in the lunch they packed for me-

Jon:- Lies and slander! I have never, in my life, done that, even once.

Martin: Oh, sure, not even once. And you definitely don't reserve the lilac sticky notes specifically for my lunches because you know I like the colour.

Jon: I..I don't.. you're rather ruining my image here.

[Martin snorts]

Martin: Can't have the audience think that you are, on occasion, an incredibly doting husband-

Jon: -A title I would argue we both share-

Martin: - which is obviously why, even with it being your favourite thing you've brought, being married to me is just a small wonder-

Jon, audibly rolling his eyes: As I already explained-

[A Pause}

Jon: Actually, you're right-

Martin: Wait-

Jon:- I really should have brought it as a larger wonder-

Martin: Wait-

Jon: though I should warn you, I think I'd have far too much material for just one little segment-

Martin: No no no no no-

Jon:- In fact, I think I might have too much material for just one little episode-

Martin: Joo-oon-

Jon: I might have to do a whole series! Where would I even start? I mean I could talk about how every day I get to watch the early morning sun highlight your curls when I get up first, or hear you quietly humming and shuffling around the kitchen when you do, or I could talk about how the lunch notes only started in the first place as retaliation to the notes you would leave on the mirror for me to find, or how every time I get to see you at ease in a way that you aren't with anyone else, it takes my breath away, or I could talk about how cute I find the lines between your eyebrows that you only get when you're thinking something petty, but you know it's petty so you don't want to say anything-

Martin: Okay, okay, Christ, I give !up I surrender, and will cease my teasing on this particular topic.

Jon, probably making the :3 face: You don't have to stop. I mean, I could also discuss how very, very attractive I find your voice when it takes on a teasi-mmph!

[There's a pleased hum, then a pause.]

[The audio quality is slightly changed, as if the recording has been stopped and then started later]

Martin, giddy: Uh, heh, anyway, Eric asked what the least favourite thing we've brought was, and because of Jon's attempt to embarrass me live-

Jon, overlapping: It's definitely not live-

Martin:- on air, I'm gonna say it's my husband.

[Jon scoffs]

Jon : If the past few minutes are any sort of indication, I'm going to go ahead and saying that you are lying.

Martin, sighing contentedly: Maybe a bit, but how was I supposed to resist when your indigance gives you that adorable little nose scrunch? In reality, my least favourite thing was probably, um, mini golf? Which, I still don't think is inherently bad, definitely superior to regular golf, but when it's the only thing a next door two year old wants to do with you, the charm begins to wear off a bit.

Jon: Wow. A rather scathing review of a toddler.

Martin: Not so much a scathing review of a toddler as it's a scathing review of minigolf's inability to keep its appeal after the third time in the same week.

Jon: Mmm, the sound effects rather quickly go from part of the atmosphere to part of the irritation, don't they?

Martin: So what's your least favorite thing we've covered here?

Jon: Oh, love, I'm not going to pretend to have nearly enough memory of what we've covered so far to have a least favorite.

Martin: Really? Nothing that you regret or rescind?

Jon: Well, regret, certainly. It was one of the weeks where you went first, and your second item was mutual aid funds, and what they can do for marginalized communities, and I had to follow it with fucking Slapchop.

Martin, poorly suppressing laughter: In your defence, Slapchop, or whatever offbrand we have, is pretty useful, especially when either your scar or my arthritis is acting up.

Jon: I'm still not convinced you didn't somehow see my notes for the recording and decided you get revenge for the first year that we knew each other.

Martin, no longer suppressing his laughter: Yep, you got me! This marriage wasn't an act of insurance fraud, but it was a near decade long con to humiliate you on a podcast that about twenty people listen to. I'll draft up the divorce papers immediately, and then we can finally go our separate ways.

Jon: I'm glad you've at last admitted it. Such a weight off of my shoulders. Goodbye forever then.

Martin: Right.

Jon: Right.

[A beat.]

[There's a pfft from one of them, before both dissolve into giggles that lasts a good 30 seconds.]

Martin, slightly out of breath: I can't believe we're the kind of people that talk this much about speciality kitchen gadgets.

Jon: Sorry about that.

Martin: God, don't apologize. I'm, like, deliriously happy with our varying degrees of useful cooking ware filled life. If you had told 25 year old me that one day he'd be debating the merits of getting a tortilla press with his husband, he'd have wept, I tell you.

Jon: Funny, if you told 25 year old me the same thing, he would've said "You don't know the future,piss off" and then quietly have a bit of a panic at 3 am that night.

Martin: I bet you were insufferable in your mid-twenties.

Jon: First of all, who isn't, secondly, I was fresh out of Oxford, and third, I was insufferable in my late twenties, as you can attest to, and I'm insufferable now, as you can further attest to, so extrapolation would indicate that, yes, I was insufferable back then.

Martin: Probably a different kind of insufferable, though.

Jon: There are different kinds?

Martin: Of course! You used to be "prick boss" insufferable and now you're "smug in a way that I can't admit I find hot or it will go straight to your head" insufferable.

Jon, in the aforementioned smug tone: Oh, really?

Martin: See, see! Straight to your head.

Jon: Well straight is probably the wrong descriptor-

Martin: Oof, 4 out of 10 joke, babe.

Jon: That would be a far more convincing rating if you weren't grinning right now.

Martin: It's a genuine review, I'm just well known to be a sucker.

Jon: You and me both, darling.

Martin: Okay, if you're pulling out darling, you're clearly in too giddy of a mood to be focused on recording. Last question, from Jess, "You two mentioned meeting at work, but how did you actually end up together?" That's easy, Jon pulled me out of a hell dimension and then we went on the lam together to Scotland.

Jon: If that's not the way to tell a cute boy you like him, I don't know what is.

Martin: All right, that wraps up this bonus episode, and as the old saying goes, hiding from murderers in a cottage is more conducive to romance than suggesting you gouge out your eyes together.

Jon, cut off: Hey-!

#tma #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #post canon #wonderful! au #my fic

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nitewrighter · 2 years

Photo

Tagged by @spacepunksupreme to post about some albums I’ve been listening to!!

Station to Station by David Bowie: Admittedly as much as I post about David Bowie, I’ve tended to stay firmly in the Hunky Dory/Ziggy Stardust camp, maybe occasionally venturing out to Aladdin Sane. I gave Bowie’s “Thin White Duke” phase a wide berth because that seemed like the fucked up and evil David Bowie who most certainly was not my beloved Ziggy. And he did write this album during a fucked up workaholic coke-fueled mental health crisis---like he was consuming pounds of coke and eating only milk and bell peppers and he was convinced there was a demon in his swimming pool, shit was bad. Basically learning that that was going on while this album was being written prompted my more morbid curiosity. But listening to this album... especially Word on a Wing, it’s surprisingly vulnerable, and the general polish of the album is underscored by lyrics that are definitely hinting at him actively struggling with his perception of reality. It’s kind of Bowie wrestling with some demons, but he’s doing it with this art rock dance hall swag.

Doolittle by the Pixies: The lead singer’s voice is scrunkly. And the guitar makes me feely like i’m chilling on a deck chair next to an abandoned gas station on a slightly too-warm day.

The Horror and the Wild by The Amazing Devil: “Tell me you watched The Witcher without saying you watched the Witcher.” No but seriously, dark folk that offsets itself with no small amount of Joey Batey hamminess makes for a delightful album.

Ziltoid the Omniscient by Devin Townsend: Listened to this for the first time when one of my mutuals was blogging about it nonstop out of nowhere! Ya girl loves her concept albums that go whole-hog into ridiculous premises. There should be more puppets in metal. There should be more puppets in music in general.

Coyote Stories by The Crane Wives: I was listening to the Decemberists non-stop in college so their sound is very much in my wheelhouse.

I, Jonathan by Jonathan Richman: An underrated gem! Earnest but with a warm sense of self-irony.

Genuine Negro Jig by the Carolina Chocolate Drops: This is one of my go-to albums to cook to. Banjo makes food taste better. It’s just science.

Heretic Pride by The Mountain Goats: My go-to soundtrack for stomping around the neighborhood and only semi-successfully stuffing back tears when I am being crushed by grief, anxiety, and existential crises. A girl, mayhaps, has been going through it.

Let It Be by The Beatles: Rungo Bungo!!!

Tagging @telltaletypist, @ohdarnitripped, @sine-luce-angor-minus, @tylwythwaffles, @callmeshei, @stealingpotatoes and anyone else who wants to do it!!

#music

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an-odd-idea · 2 years

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I wanna tell you guys about a band I just had the privilege to see live, because I am in awe

They’re called Tophouse, and somebody I know hosted them in his living room through a site called Host An Artist

This is the first song they played, so everybody sat up like “oh, they’re like good good”

https://open.spotify.com/track/5eNYCKvWR0rNpNH5VHVAqB?si=YPX8JlRKRNmQH058PPeLwA

Two of them just sorta put this together in a parking garage one day because they liked the sound in there

The recording does NOT do how good they are justice, especially the violin guy, it was insane, he was shredding on that thing, and the guys with guitars were super good, too, and one also played banjo and the other also played mandolin, and they had a kickdrum and a tambourine mounted on a kickdrum thing that you could practically feel in your chest. It was crazy

This is my favorite song they played

https://open.spotify.com/track/1WUOSqkLdvua0My35T9r1a?si=JiVvwnByQe2ov1FWXm4Kcw

But like seriously, I’ve been to Host An Artist concerts before, and usually it’s some dude with a guitar and he’s pretty good, but these guys, I could 100% see them being on a giant stage, they could sell out concert venues if they were well known

Also my boyfriend’s dad who plays the hammer dulcimer played with them on a few songs because they heard about each other through a mutual friend and thought it would be fun, so that was really cool

Sirens is also a crazy song, they did this super neat thing with violin guy and mandolin guy playing suuuuper fast together and it was so neat

https://open.spotify.com/track/7m0oMXWfTiyHeFuc4Ng8Bj?si=kZhZnDEsRXSZxiB3NnI3Ug

Yeah. This has been shameless advertising by me

#Spotify

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

Text

Banjo Riff // Platonic!Reggie Peters

IN WHICH: Luke rejects Reggie’s ideas for country music one too many times leading to the friendship fracturing and putting the bands future in question. Luke, with the help of his girlfriend the reader and his friends scramble to make it up to the bassist.

Warnings: Swearing, hurt!Reggie, Luke being an ass, fighting, angst, and fluff

Words: 3.2k

A/N: This idea has been sitting in my notes for MONTHS now. Song referenced is Lay Here With Me by Maddie & Tae (featuring Dierks Bentley)

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

If there was one thing Sunset Curve, then later Julie and the Phantoms would rely on, it was the battle between Luke and Reggie. Since the conception of a band between the friends, Reggie had always wanted to play a country song. He had learned how to play the banjo in preparation, but Luke rejected both the idea and songs as always.

"You said our sound was vintage '80s and '90s rock music Luke. The band evolved into a pop-rock sound-"

"Because our band changed from Sunset Curve to Julie and the Phantoms. I love you, man, but there's no way we're going country." Luke finally snapped with a heated glare on his face. Luke didn't mean to snap so severely, but it happened.

Luke watched as Reggie's face completely dropped into the kicked puppy expression that tore everyone apart. Instead of making light of the conversation, Reggie mutely nodded in response before turning to grab his bass for the band practice. Luke's stomach dropped at the rather odd behaviour, but Luke blamed his response on his current writers' block.

"Let's start with Flying Solo." Luke proclaimed, hoping Reggie's favourite song would cheer him up. Alex's curious gaze bounced between the two other males in the band just as Julie wandered into the garage.

Before Julie could even question the tension, Reggie had started the beat on the pad stationed on the keyboard. The young female immediately jumped into the first rehearsal song with ease. Every attempt Julie was about to question Reggie's uncharacteristic quiet, the bassist started a different song.

"What's his problem?" Julie questioned as Reggie packed up his stuff and practically sprinted out of the studio. He'd rejected the offer of a pizza movie night.

"Luke here decided to be an asshole again." Alex's tone of voice was sugary sweet in comparison to the glare he sent his guitarist.

Luke flinched at the furious expression on his bandmate's face. It wasn't a secret Julie and Reggie gravitated to each other in sibling bond. The two had been friends since infancy through their parents; Julie was there when the Peters started fighting. Reggie was there when Julie's mom passed away.

"Don't kill me!" Luke pleaded, scrambling around the piano from the intimidating Puerto Rican who had a solid punch. Julie's anger faltered at the guilt on the boy's face, "I was frustrated, and I shouldn't have taken it out on him!"

"What did Reggie do to deserve it?" Julie asked from the other side of the piano, acting as a barrier between the teenagers.

"He asked about the band doing a country song," Luke admitted with a grimace. His hazel eyes dimmed once more.

"What is your issue with country music? Your girlfriend is literally a country singer Luke!" Alex cried, stepping in between the two feuding bandmates.

Rock n' Roll Luke Patterson had been dating a well-known country singer for close to two years now. Luke had always been adamant that country wasn't all it was cracked up to be, but if you looked in the false bottom of the console in his car, you'd see a different story. Beneath the Eagles, Nirvana, AC/DC, and Gun N' Roses CDs, you'd find countless CDs of his girlfriend. He even had a playlist with a name that concealed the music in it.

Luke was a secret country fan, but he'd take that to his grave before he let anyone other than you know that.

"I don't have an issue! I don't think our band would benefit from branching into that music genre!" Luke argued with his bare arms crossing over his chest. Both Julie and Alex were about to respond when the studio gained another inhabitant.

"Would anyone like to explain why Reggie stormed into my house holding his songbook? He literally dropped it in my garage and tried to light it on fire?" You asked from the double doors with said book in your hand.

All three out of four members of Julie and the Phantoms recognized the book with a country landscape. The sight caused all their stomachs to drop at the obvious symbol of Reggie's hurt feelings.

"Funny story-"

"Luke Patterson...did you hurt his feelings about his love of country?" You asked through clenched teeth. Your response was Luke wincing at the anger blistering in your tone, "Did you ever think that country music is his comfort music? Fix this, Luke. Reggie, of all people, doesn't deserve your frustration."

You turned on your heel with Julie following in the attempt to find the forlorn bassist, most likely being hard on himself. You checked the beach house Reggie's dad had gotten in the divorce to no success. The school auditorium was empty, and so was the stable where Reggie worked part-time for the horses. You had returned back to Julie's house to sit on the porch to brainstorm.

"Isn't this the week he's with his mom?" Julie questioned with a furrowed brow. You could only shrug as Julie pulled up the calendar she shared with Flynn.

Reggie's parents had somewhat amicably divorced two years ago after attempts of reconciliation through therapy. Reggie had sat down with them to tell them how he felt with them fighting, if you recalled. They decided to do a trial separation for a few months and, in the end, had mutually agreed to divorce.

"I think Mr. Peters is taking care of his mother in a different state. She broke her hip, and now she's being moved into a retirement home." You offered the girl the encapsulated sunshine in just her smile.

"I suppose we'll try the Carter-Peters home." Julie breathed, bouncing on her feet to your car parked in front of her house. Julie's fingers tapped the screen in a chat thread she hadn't touched for months.

Your keen eyes easily read Carrie Wilson's name at the top of the thread that had been dormant since the end of their friendship. Apparently, Julie received little help in the frustrated sigh she released and the increasingly violent tapping of her screen.

"As usual, Carrie is no help," Julie announced with disgust in her voice. She squeezed the hand you placed on her knee before your hand returned to the wheel.

"One day, you'll have to tell me what happened between the two of you."

"Old news. Happened just before you moved back from Nashville." Julie once more avoided talking about the issues.

It was the same response every time you questioned the friendship that had fractured in the few years you'd been in Nashville. Before you left, Carrie and Julie had been attached at the hip, and when you came back, they were at each other's throats. Well, mostly Carrie was because Julie had too big of a heart to stand up to her former friend.

"Well, the beat-up van is still there." Julie caught the van, more of an eyesore, to be honest, sitting in the three-car driveway. The van was shared between Reggie and Flynn as a joint gift from their parents when Reggie's mom moved in with Flynn and her father.

"We both know Reggie-"

"Would walk to work through his problems. The number of times I've found in walking downtown…" Julie trailed with a shake of her half up half down hairstyle she left uncovered by a hat. Another symbol of her finding herself outside the grief that had concealed her.

"Oh, thank god." Flynn moaned from the front porch with her headphones resting on her shoulders instead of her ears, "He's been playing his old bass that makes that odd high pitch squeak noise. I couldn't take it. Get him out!"

You opened and closed your mouth with the inability to find the words, but Flynn knew already, "Doors unlocked. He's in his room."

"Thanks." You informed the fashionable teenager before brushing passed into the house. Not much had changed since Reggie had moved part-time into the house; his parents shared custody.

Flynn was right; the sound of that screech was like a bread trail to the last bedroom in the hallway to the left. The door opened a smidge to reveal Reggie sitting in the dim room with just his bedside lamp on. He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, Reggie." You breathed from leaning against the door jam, "I'm not sure what Luke said but don't give up on writing. Your songs mean something, Reginald."

"Then why doesn't Luke even read my lyrics? He barely read the title of my last one before tossing it aside!" Reggie whined before taking on a caricature of Luke's voice, "'Home is Where my Horse Is'? Reggie, stop putting your songs in my book!"

You couldn't help the snort at his interpretation of Luke, "That's a...uh...an accurate voice?"

Reggie didn't even crack a smile.

"Okay, maybe don't push Luke's buttons but imagine turning this hurt into songs!"

"Okay. Can I be left alone?"

"Sure." You sighed, turning to leave the room again, "But first. Don't get rid of this Reg. You have good songs."

You left Reggie's songbook on the dresser by his door on your way through the Carter-Peters household. Flynn sighed in relief when Reggie didn't continue using his old bass and even waved as you and Julie pulled away from the curb.

Reggie's eyes had stayed on the songbook you left on his second-hand dresser as if it would get up and bite him. All he could see was Luke rolling his eyes when Reggie had opened the book to show him a new song he'd written. Reggie was tired of only being known for playing bass.

"I brought you some leftover pizza." Reggie wasn't aware he'd been staring at the songbook for hours by then. He was only aware of Luke when he offered a peace offering in the form of Reggie's favourite food.

"I-"

"I'll go grab a soda from the fridge." Luke retreated just as quick as he had entered the bedroom. Seeing Luke was like rubbing salt in the open wound, and once more, Reggie's emotions flared.

Reggie was already at the fire pit in the backyard when Luke had argued with Flynn overtaking one of her sodas. The soda that had dropped on the back porch as Luke saw Reggie's fingers about to drop the songbook in the crackling fire.

"Reggie!" Luke shouted, ignoring the cold spray of soda on his bare arms. The hazel-eyed guitarist shoved Reggie away from the fire.

"What the hell, dude?" Reggie groaned, rolling onto his stomach to push himself to his sit on his knees. His blue eyes seeing Luke stomping the ignited corner of the songbook that had caused them issues.

"What the hell were you doing, Reggie?" Luke demanded with the songbook held tight in his grip. The glare on the messy-haired teenager directly pinned on his best friend, "Why would you try to destroy the book?"

"What's the point of having something our band won't branch into?" Reggie shrugged, moving to sit with his knees pulled to chest, "I've tried to keep the peace but Luke. I'm starting to understand why Bobby left the band."

Luke's heart clenched at the honesty Reggie was revealing, "What do you mean?"

"Screw the blood pact." Reggie grumbled, recalling the oath Alex, Bobby, and he had done to keep the truth from Luke, "Bobby didn't leave because he got an early acceptance into Juilliard."

Luke's eyebrows furrowed together, "What?"

"Luke...you tend to get possessive over the music we make. You brushed off Bobby's opinions, and we all didn't want to hurt your feelings. You've had a shitty time with your parents, but like Bobby, I feel like you don't appreciate our talents."

"What? Dude, you're killer on the bass! Alex's insane on the drums!"

"We know that. Maybe Bobby should have told you the truth on why he was leaving. I don't think you noticed but

"Luke. The songs we perform are all written by you. It was fine, but then when Julie joined, all of a sudden, you were okay with someone else writing with you. But you've never even looked at the songs I've written."

Luke silently listened as Reggie rambled on about how he, along with Bobby, felt underappreciated by the guitarist.

"And now you've been bit by the writers' block bug, but I think the band should take a break. Get our heads back on straight. Before we destroy the band, destroy our friendships." Reggie told his best friend with tears rolling down his face, "Just a week or two."

Luke's mouth hung open as Reggie circled around him to enter the household, but the telltale sound of the lock engaging broke the teenager. But Luke wasn't one to give up, so he created a group chat with Alex, Julie, Flynn and you. A single text that had all of them meeting at the studio.

"He quit the band?" Alex demanded, taking the songbook from Luke's hand, "What the hell?"

"One second he's in his room, and the next he's about to burn that! I may not like-"

"Luke, have you even read a single song he wrote?" You asked your boyfriend with your arms resting down on your knees. The boy in question half-heartedly shrugged with his eyes on his battered shoes.

"How are we gonna fix this?" Julie asked with a frown marring her pretty face usually lit up with sunshine. Her question was left to waft in the forlorn atmosphere in her family's studio.

"Give me that." You demanded towards the band's drummer with determination lit up in your eyes. Alex hesitantly handed over the songbook to your grabby hands.

The other individuals in the room watched as you settled into a chair with a stray acoustic guitar you'd left. Your eyes focused on the notes Reggie had placed around one of the unfinished songs. The soft melody was played a few times before you noticed Alex creating a beat with his drums.

"If I just tweak the song to make this piece the verse instead of a chorus." You mumbled under your breath with a pen scratching the paper. In a different colour, you jotted down the lyrics of a song you'd been working on previously. It was a song you'd struggled with the ending.

Alex huddled around you to add his own notes for the drums, "Definitely a song with a soft backing beat."

"Perfect. I just joined what he has with a song I'd given up a while back. The two songs are the last two pieces of a puzzle." You informed the drummer. Both of you unaware as Julie, Luke, and Flynn watched your brainstorming.

Luke felt out of sorts not being included in writing a song, but he thought it was suitable to not work on it. It gave Luke insight into how Reggie felt not being included in songwriting.

"I have an idea." Luke interjected with a grin, "Reggie's always wanted to see a real ranch. Do you think your uncle would be okay with us staying at the ranch?"

Your eyes flitted up to the mischievous hazel of your boyfriend's scheming gaze, "My uncle adores having people on the ranch. He'd enjoy teaching Reggie the ways of ranch life out of a city."

"How are you gonna get Reggie out to Nashville without it being band business?" Flynn questioned from her position on the couch, "He did just ask for a break from the band."

"Uh...I could pretend to enter a music competition." You offered hesitantly as you'd never actually performed on a stage for the group. You'd kept your personal life separate from your successful career as a country musician.

So you conspired with your friends to make amends with the bassist.

One Month Later, Nashville

The beat-up van pulled into a parking spot in front of a building. The band had seen the building in pictures on your Instagram. Alex, Luke and Julie all shared a look Reggie couldn't catch with his mouth wide open at the city.

"So, where's this competition?" Reggie inquired with his steps in line with Julie. The distance between Reggie and Luke is still noticeable.

True to Reggie's word, the band had come back together after two weeks of a break, but the bassist and guitarist's friendship was still fractured. A particular cloud of awkwardness followed each attempt; Luke tried to branch it together.

"Uh, not here. Y/N invited me to tour the recording studio she uses through her label." Luke offered to the confused bassist. As usual, Reggie barely cast a glance at the guitarist.

"C'mon!" Alex called out from the open doorway with the new addition of you by his side.

Luke was quick to nearly tackle you in a hug and a lingering kiss on your lips. The band all made sounds of feigned disgust. Even Reggie joined in the usual banter within the group.

"Hey, Reggie, do you want to see how us country artists do it?" You quipped with your arm interlocking with his. The cold leather of his jacket raising goosebumps on your arm as you dragged him to the recording booth.

As soon as he was comfortable on one of the spinney chairs by the producer's side, he watched like a hawk. The band had never been in a real professional recording studio owned by a label. It was interesting to everyone, but mostly they all watched Reggie's reactions.

"I was working on this song." You spoke from inside the booth. With a nod, your producer began playing a portion of the song.

"Is...is that-" Reggie was cut off by as Luke interrupted him.

"Your song? Yeah."

Reggie stared at his best friend, "What?"

"You were right, Reggie. I didn't appreciate what you could bring to the band, and I'm so fucking sorry about that. You have excellent songs even if I'm not a fan of country music." Luke genuinely informed his best friend with his hands clasping his, "I want you. Both you and Alex to have a bigger role because we started this band together. We all share responsibility."

"So for now. Alex and I finished one of the songs you had written. I was wondering if you'd like to make it a duet? Release it as a single with a full writing credit."

Reggie absolutely beamed in response to your question. He was in the recording booth beside you in mere seconds.

For the week the band stayed on your uncle's ranch, Reggie was in the studio with you going over the song. It is a song you released as the leading single for your upcoming studio album with Reggie and cemented his career. It wasn't the last time you did a song with Reggie. In fact, he set himself up as a sought after country songwriter.

"Holy shit!" Luke shouted as soon as Reggie told him the success of one of the songs had brought interest to Julie and the Phantoms, "I could kiss you! I'll never doubt your skills!"

Reggie and Luke's fractured friendship healed with the promise of a yearly visit to the ranch in Nashville. Plus, Reggie impressed Luke and Alex with the banjo riff in a country song the band released on their third studio album featured by you. Reggie would always be thankful he had the chance to record ‘Lay Here With Me’ with you.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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#reggie peters #reggie peters imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #platonic!reggie peters #platonic!reggie peters x reader #julie and the phantoms #reginald peters #musician!reader x luke patterson #alive!luke patterson #alive!reggie peters

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bunny-hoodlum · 2 years

Note

62 for the questions!

Let's see, what makes me happy... I don't want to make this too mundane, so I'll be specific, but it's gonna be a lot lol.

I like a lot of food, from traditional to fusion, some Filipino, some German, some Vietnamese, some Japanese, most Mexican, Brazilian and Thai -- I'll pretty much always go for street food. Draught beer, specifically: Wit Bier, Dunkel, or Stouts. Refreshing cocktails, tarty or refreshing sweets, soft fabrics like flannel or teddy, the aesthetic of abandoned urban locations reclaimed by nature, 90s indie-alternative rock and the scene of that era, Modest Mouse lyrics, particularly:

"As life gets longer, awful feels softer. Well, it feels pretty soft to me. And if it takes shit to make bliss, Then I feel pretty blissfully."

Adventure Time, HTTYD, BH6, Steven Universe, Kingdom Hearts especially hits all of my dopamine receptors, Part 1 Naruto, Shippuuden is where I threw myself the most into fanfiction. 😅 I had a 'Yeah, this is cool and all, but what if???' mindset like forever ago, like 14 years ago. 😆 Except I got stuck writing one dumb Modern AU longfic and never did anything else. 😩

Seinen manga, graphic novels, indie films. As a basic bitch, I jump on acclaimed shit cuz it's already vetted. I'm not actually cool enough to know the indie-est of indie media. I enjoy things that have a literary quality to them and/or are weird as shit. I'm incapable of being as weird as I want, I'm pretty much a kuudere IRL, but I relish in batshit strangeness. I really need to watch 90s David Lynch stuff asap.

Tight, strong hugs and being tucked in make me stupidly happy. 😅 My SO's only tucks me in when I get sick, eheh.

Nintendo nostalgia makes me happy. N64 soundtracks like Yoshi's Story, Ocarina of Time, Majora's Mask, Banjo-Kazooie, etc.

And my mutuals and my readers make me happy!! 🥰 Because my life is on here now. 🤣💖💖

#ask answered #happyocelot #Thank you for the ask!#Bet you didn't ask for a whole ass myspace dump like this XDD

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futurebicon · 3 years

Text

Carolina

Marine Biologist AU that no one asked for but I wrote because I miss my second home. Probably two parts.

Very brief mention of a family members death

"Hi welcome to-" Leo stopped his normal speech when he was met with the two most gorgeous men he had ever laid eyes on. "Welcome to the Fort Fisher aquarium. I'm your tour guide Leo and this is Regulus." He somehow managed to snap out of his shock even though the greeting was all muscle memory.

“Two guides. Must be special." The red haired one laughed a laugh that made doves fly. "I'm Finn." He shook their hands.

"That and both of us wanted a break from sticky children trying to swim with the sharks and gators." Reg smiled.

"Sharks? Like ocean sharks? And ocean alligators?" The shorter one asked in shock and a lot more than a sprinkle of fear.

'Fuck he's adorable' Leo swore internally. "Alligators are typically fresh water reptiles but if you are asking if they are real sharks and alligators, than no. They're they’re hyperealalistic mechanical sculptures." He kept a straight face.

"Cute and funny." Finn flashed him a smile after another angelic laugh.

Leo had to remind himself to not die right then and there.

“Don't worry, Logan" Finn told the other one. "I'll protect you from the scary teeth, baby."

Now Leo was sad.

“Oh yeah, right after you stop ogling over our hot tour guide."

Now Leo was slightly less sad and confused.

“Actually." Regulus pulled out his phone. "Our manager just texted and said he needs someone in the gift shop. Have fun." He left with a pat on Leos back.

Leo glared as he walked away, they didn't get texts from anyone for any assignment. Hence the walkie talkies on their belt loops.

“So, follow me and we can start the tour." +++

“This is our 235,000 gallon tank." Leo stood over top of the two story tall tank. In here we have our eagle rays, round stingrays, whiptail stingrays, hammerhead sharks, sandbar sharks, sand tiger sharks, hammerhead sharks. We also have two moray eels and an abundance of fish including shanks and groupers. And a personal favorite, Sheldon the green sea turtle.” Leo stood on the rusted grate with ease as if he didn’t care about the hammerhead only a few feet away from his toes.

“Um, this is great and all but can we not stand on the edge without a railing?” Logan stayed as far away as he could an the 2 feet wide walkway.

“You’re completely safe don’t worry.” Leo flashed a reassuring smile.

“Okay yeah but-”

“Stop being a baby, Lo.” Finn poked his side.

“I’m sorry I’m scared of falling into a 23 foot deep death cylinder filled with sharks.” Logan defended himself.

“Alright we can go officially start the tour.” Leo laughed. “But we do have to walk across the tank.”

“We what?” Logan asked.

“It’s okay. Just don’t look down.” He decided to risk a wink.

“Listen to the hot guide, babe.” Finn kissed Logan’s cheek. “I’ll hold your hand.”

“I love you, Harzy. But I do not trust you enough to not try and scare me.”

“I promi- no I don’t. Fine.” Finn whined when his plans were spoiled.

“Alright, let’s go.” Leo laughed.

They got across the walkway with only a few exaggerated wobbles to scare Logan. And a very grumpy Logan when Leo told him there was another way around the tank.

+++

“So here we have our bald eagle Maverick.” Leo walked up to the opened enclosure. “He’s five years old and has been here since he was two. He was found on the side of the road nearly starved after being hit by a car. If you look at his left wing you can see it juts out a little. That is due to the bones fusing together incorrectly and it makes him unable to ever fly again.” He recited the well known script.

“Poor baby” Finn stuck his bottom lip out.

Leo blinked away the urge to kiss the sad look off his face.

“If we walk up here you can see the aquariums prized possession.” Leo smiled. “Luna the albino Alligator.”

“Oh my god.” Finn hurried over to the glass.

“She looks like you, lover. Pale as fuck.” Logan teased.

“Luna is one of just 100 recorded albino alligators world wide.”

“World wide?” Logan asked in shock.

“Yeah. It’s an extremely rare genetic mutation and due to the inability to hide from predators they’re numbers are next to zero. Very soon they’ll be no more albino gators.”

“What happened to that alligators toes?” Logan pointed at the dark green alligator.

“That’s Gantur. He still hasn’t learn that Luna’s the leader.”

“She bit them off?” Logan’s eyes went wide.

“Don’t underestimate her. Ready to continue?”

+++

“This is my favorite exhibit.” Leo’s face lit up as they walked up to the touch pool.

“Touch anything as long as you use two fingers and don’t pick anything up.”

“Are those stingrays?” Finn pointed towards the end of the touch pool.

“Yeah. They’re still babies and their stingers have been trimmed. Their barbs are like thumbnails and can be clipped monthly without any harm.”

“What are those?”

Leo’s face lit up impossibly more.

“These are horseshoe crabs.” He held onto one of the dark greenish brown banjo shaped creature.

“They are also called living fossils due to the fact that they haven’t evolved at all since the dinosaurs, around 450 million years. It’s mostly due to the fact that they didn’t need anything added or taken away for survival. They were made perfectly. Now their tails.” He pointed to the long stick like end as it moved around with the help of what looked like scaley gills. “Most people look at it and think it will hurt. But it won’t hurt at all. They are extremely, extremely clumsy and use the long tail to flip themselves back over.”

“Sounds like you.” Finn kissed Logan.

“Rude.” Logan scoffed.

“Horseshoe crabs aren’t actually crabs at all. They’re actually more closely related to scorpions and spiders. Watch.” Leo smirked and flipped it over.

There were five pairs of claws moving around as the gills moved up and down like abs, causing the tail to move with it.

“Here-” Leo grabbed Logan’s hand, he tried hard to ignore the way his skin burned. “Touch it.”

“Oh no I’m okay to just look.”

“Come on, just touch it.” Leo begged. “Please just touch it.” He pouted.

“Oh my fuck you’re adorable.” Logan voiced Leo’s exact same thoughts from before.

“Here” he blushed and bit his lib to contain the smile. “Touch it.” He guided Logan’s hand down to the center of the legs, desperately trying to not think about how close they were. Logan’s t-shirt touching his blue polo shirt with his name stitched in the side. The way he could feel Logan’s breathing against his side, the way his leg was pressed between Logans le- stop it.

“Eww that feels weird” Logan’s laughed raised goosebumps on his arm.

“You’re touch his mouth.”

“Ew ew ew ew” Logan pulled his hand away quickly as Finn cackled.

“You asshole” Logan laughed as he pushed Leo lightly.

“Sorry, but it’s funny.” Leo laughed.

“You are now my second favorite person on earth.” Finn put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Oh my god I’m crying.” He wiped his eyes.

“Wouldn’t mind if he stayed our favorite.” Logan smiled.

Leo blushed and moved onto the regular view of the huge tank.

+++

“So how’d you get a job here?” Logan asked Leo as they walked around.

“I’ve lived on the island my whole life and started volunteering here when I was 13.” He explained. “I’m going to UNCW for marine biology. Are you two just here for vacation? Even though it’s April.”

“No. We’re actually moving down here. My grandparents owned the arcade on the boardwalk and left it to me once they passed.” Finn told him.

“Oh. I’m sorry about their passing.”

“It’s okay. Didn’t really know them at all.”

“Well I’ll hopefully see you around.”

“Maybe you don’t have to hope.”

Leo tilted his head in confusion.

“We were just wondering if you would want to show us around the island.” Logan told him. “We’ve only been here for a few days and this is the first place we’ve been to. Not even the beach.”

“Oh that’s nearly a sin.” Leo teased. “I’d love to show you guys around. I get off in an hour.”

“Perfect.” Finn said happily. “Do you want to drive over to our house and then switch cars or do you need to change?”

“That’ll work. There’s a locker room and since there’s next to no one here considering the time of year Evan will probably let me leave early.” Leo couldn’t hide his smile as they walked into the brightly lit gift shop.

Logan let out a loud gasp and ran over to the 6 foot long jellyfish stuffie. “I want it.”

“It’s tentacles are going to strangle you, love.” Finn shook his head.

“Kinky” Logan wiggled his eyebrows.

Finn scoffed as three other people in the quiet store laughed.

“Oh hi again Regulus.” Logan smiled at the black haired man who was sitting on the countertop beside the register tossing a brightly colored foam ball with turtles on it between his hands.

“Hey” He smiled back.

“What’d they need help with down here?” Finn looked around the empty room cluelessly.

“He didn’t help me?” The girl beside him raised an eyebrow. “Hi, Rue by the way.” She waved before going back to glaring at Regulus. “Did Evan tell you to help me?”

“No.” Reg smirked. “Just wanted to leave Leo alone with his crushes.”

“Reg” Leo pushed him.

“It’s mutual.” Finn said and Logan nodded.

“Okay. I’m gonna go ask Evan if I can get off early so I can show you a tour of the island and then get changed and I’ll be back down.” Leo changed the subject quickly.

“They’ll show you a tour of their bedroom and then get you off early.” Rue said quietly but not quiet enough. Leo shoved her hard as Logan, Finn, and Reg cackled.

+++

“So are we ready?” Leo walked back down in shorts and a UNCW t-shirt.

A cropped UNCW t-shirt.

“Uh- yeah. Yeah. Um, yeah.” Finn stuttered failing to make it look like he wasn’t staring at Leo’s tan abs.

Finn on the other hand had no shame. His eyes raked his entire body as his mouth went dry.

“Alright. I’ll follow you guys?”

“Huh? Oh yeah.” Logan nodded.

“Get it Knut.” Reg cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted as they left the gift shop and headed outside to the 100 degree weather.

@lumosinlove

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #sweater weather lumosinlove #oknutzy #Carolina

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olivemac · 3 years

Text

1300 miles | chapter two | b.b.

Summary | Bucky Barnes is adjusting to civilian life, living in Brooklyn, visiting Sam in Delacroix when he can, and trying to figure out what he wants. When he meets Jo Landry, the tattooed lead singer of a New Orleans-based band, he thinks he might have found the answer. Too bad they live 1300 miles apart.

Time Frame | post-TFATWS

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc

Rating | explicit

Warnings | mentions of combat-related injuries, alcohol use, tattoos/body piercings, coarse language, gay male character, bisexual female character, recreational/medicinal drug use (weed), pet names (doll, Sarge), smut (f/m, mutual masturbation, fingering, very very slight dom!Bucky, praise kink), angst if you squint but not really, and all the romance tropes/fluff because I'm a sucker for it; more warnings to come; 18+ ONLY, minors DNI

A/N | Likes and comments always appreciated. :)

series master list | AO3 link | full master list

1300 miles playlist

Tag | @mrs--barnes

_____

previous chapter

_____

Jo wakes the next morning to a text from Danny: Did you fuck the Winter Soldier?

She rolls her eyes and responds: Fuck off. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore.

Danny replies with a leaf emoji and the words: Come upstairs.

Jo slides her glasses on and climbs out of bed. She pads into the living room as quietly as she can to find Bucky snoring on her couch with Toulouse perched on his chest. She can’t stop herself from snapping a picture with her phone.

Upstairs, she lets herself into Danny’s apartment. She’s met at the door by Greta, Danny’s PTSD service dog, a medium-sized German Shepherd who waits patiently for Jo to kneel down and scratch her behind her ears.

“Morning, pup,” Jo whispers.

“I’m out here,” Danny calls from his third-floor balcony.

“Coffee?” Jo asks.

“Cold-brew in the fridge,” Danny responds.

She detours to the kitchen before joining Danny at the small table on his balcony.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Jo asks. Danny always smokes the morning after a nightmare.

“They’re called flashbacks, and yes,” he responds, taking a deep drag of the joint.

“But they’re getting better, right?”

"Since you came back, yeah, they're getting better."

“Give me that,” Jo says, reaching for the joint. She takes a drag then exhales slowly. “You can always wake me up when you have a flashback, you know.”

Danny snorts. “I was afraid I’d wander into your bedroom to find you getting dicked down by an Avenger.”

“Please stop,” Jo groans. "You get that you're my brother, right? And this is weird."

Danny laughs, "It's only weird if you make it weird." Then he says, “Seriously, though, what’s the deal with Mister Tall-Dark-and-Handsome? I mean, if Sam trusts him, then he must be a good guy, but he’s literally a hundred years old, Jo.”

“He’s…” she pauses, “really sweet and charming underneath the brooding exterior. I really like him, Danny.”

“But?”

“But he lives in New York,” she whines.

“Yeah,” Danny says, taking another drag on the joint.

“‘Yeah?’ That’s all you’re going to say?”

Danny shrugs. “Some things are worth working for.”

Jo laughs, “Okay, why don’t you get back to me when you’re not high. I’m heading back downstairs.”

“Love you, Josiebean,” Danny says, using the nickname he gave Jo when they were kids.

“Love you, too, Daniel-San,” Jo replies. Danny laughs at the Karate Kid reference like he always does, and Jo kisses his forehead and pats his shoulder before leaving.

_____

Bucky wakes to the smell of coffee and bacon, his stomach rumbling at the scent. There's a warm weight on his chest, and when he opens his eyes he's greeted with the yellow stare of Toulouse.

He looks at his watch. It's a little after eleven. He usually wakes earlier, but he also doesn't usually sleep as soundly as he did last night.

He wanders into the kitchen in his borrowed sweats to find Jo standing at the stove in an oversized t-shirt, shorts, and out-of-season Halloween socks, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Her back is to him, and he takes the opportunity to study her naked legs. More ink peaks out from the hem of her shorts and covers most of her thighs. Bucky has the urge to drop to his knees before her and run his tongue over every intricate design.

Instead, he clears his throat, so he doesn't startle her, and she turns to face him. Her face is bare, and she’s wearing large, gold-rimmed glasses. Bucky can’t decide if she looks prettier like this or like she did last night, with her hair flowing down her back and her guitar in her hands.

"Morning," Jo says. “Sorry to shatter the illusion,” she continues, gesturing to her glasses and outfit.

Bucky smiles. He isn’t sure what the protocol is for greeting the woman you made out with and whose couch you slept on last night, but he decides he wants to kiss her again. He takes the few steps toward her and pulls her into his arms. This close, she has to crane her neck up to look him in the eyes.

“Morning,” he says. They’re so close and his voice is pitched so low that Jo can feel the word rumble in his chest. Butterflies erupt in her stomach.

Bucky leans down slowly and presses his lips against Jo’s. This kiss is softer and slower than the kisses they shared last night, and the heat that explodes in Jo’s lower stomach burns the butterflies away. Her fingers dig into his triceps, one arm yielding to her touch, the other firm against her digits. She sighs and opens her mouth to his tongue, letting him deepen the kiss.

He licks into her mouth, and Jo moans, her hands coming up to cup his stubble-covered cheeks. Bucky’s own hands slide down Jo’s back to her buttocks, pulling her hips flush against his so she can feel the effect she’s having on him. Jo gasps, and Bucky’s lips leave hers to trail wet kisses against her jaw.

When he pulls away, Bucky’s smile is almost smug. He likes all the sounds he’s able to pull from her, and he wants to hear more.

Jo turns back to the stove, catching her breath and trying to hide the flush she knows is rising from her chest to her cheeks.

“Breakfast — well," she looks at the clock on the oven, "brunch — is ready. Have a seat.”

Bucky places a final kiss against the back of Jo’s neck before sitting.

Toulouse rubs against Bucky's legs beneath the kitchen table. He reaches down to scratch Louie between the ears, and the cat lets out a contented chirp.

"He's usually not that nice to strangers," Jo says, watching the two of them from across the room.

"My sister had a cat growing up — big, fat orange thing that was missing half an ear. His name was Marmalade."

Jo smiles brightly and sets a plate of food in front of him. “Coffee?” she asks.

“Please,” Bucky says. “But I can get it.”

“No need,” she says, handing him a mug of fresh coffee. “You want oat milk? Sugar, maybe?”

“Black is good,” Bucky says, taking his first sip.

Jo sits across from him with her own plate and coffee cup. They spend breakfast talking quietly. Bucky likes the domesticity of it. He's gotten used to having breakfast at the Wilson's with Sarah, Sam, and the boys, but this meal with Jo feels more intimate. He has a brief flash of spending every morning like this, but he pushes it away as quickly as it comes. He's trying not to overthink whatever’s happening between himself and Jo. He’s not used to having good things in his life, but he wants to lean into this, take the risk.

"You said last night that you know who I am," Bucky says as they clear their plates from the table.

Jo is quiet for a moment, neatly stacking plates and coffee cups in the dishwasher.

“I may have seen a documentary or two featuring the Howling Commandos,” she says, closing the dishwasher and turning to Bucky. “And Sam and Steve may have crashed in Danny’s apartment for a couple of months when they were on the run following the Accords.”

Bucky is silent. He's staring at Jo with the same brooding intensity as last night, but there's something more in his eyes — a sadness she hadn't noticed earlier. She's seen that look before on Danny when he first came back from Afghanistan. It's the look of someone who's lost everything. But as quickly as it's there, it's gone.

Bucky clears his throat. “You knew Steve?” he asks.

“Yeah. I mean, briefly,” she whispers. “Let me show you something.”

He follows her into the living room where she pulls a box from one of the bookshelves. She empties the contents onto the coffee table; it's a handful of polaroids featuring varied combinations of Jo and Sam and Steve and Danny. Bucky sits on the couch and picks up one of the photos. It's of Steve with a German Shepherd; in the photo Steve is smiling brightly, and Bucky's heart aches at the sight.

"That's Greta," Jo says, sitting next to Bucky, "Danny's dog. She was just a puppy then. She adored Steve."

Bucky laughs through his nose and picks up another photo. This one features Sam and Jo sitting at a table in a kitchen that looks like Jo's but slightly different — Bucky assumes it's Danny's; Sam is clearly in the middle of a story, and Jo's head is thrown back in laughter. A stab of jealousy hits him in the chest — Bucky wants to make her laugh like that. He skims through the rest of the polaroids, finally landing on one of Jo and Steve sitting side by side at a piano, Steve's large frame dwarfing the woman next to him.

"He found out I can play a few '30s and '40s standards on piano," Jo says, smiling at the memory. "There wasn't a lot for him and Sam to do cooped up here for three months, so I taught him some basics."

Bucky stares at the photo for a while before he speaks. "You play piano?" he asks.

"I started on piano, took up guitar when I was ten, then bass when I was thirteen. I can also play drums, organ, banjo, mandolin, and a little violin," she says. "And I have a Bachelors of Music with a concentration in voice."

Bucky stares at her for a moment, then tosses the photo back onto the coffee table and reaches for Jo, pulling her onto his lap. She settles with her legs on either side of his hips and her hands on his shoulders.

"So, you have very talented fingers, then?" Bucky asks with a flirty grin.

Jo rolls her eyes and laughs, but she's secretly pleased with where this interaction seems to be headed. She was worried Bucky would feel like she had kept something from him by not telling him about Steve last night, but he seems to be taking it in stride.

"Thanks for showing me those photographs," Bucky says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "He gave up everything for me back then, so it's nice to see that maybe he had a little bit of happiness during that time."

"He wanted the same for you," she whispers, nudging her nose against Bucky's.

Bucky kisses her softly, then pulls away, staring into her green eyes. Jo slides her glasses off and sets them on the coffee table behind her.

She drags a finger down his vibranium arm and asks, “Can you feel that?”

Bucky licks his lips. “Yeah. It’s—it’s different from the real one, but yeah.”

Jo hums in acknowledgment but doesn’t say anything else. Their lips meet again, and this time the kiss is longer, needier. Bucky sweeps his tongue into her mouth, and Jo is certain she's going to have beard burn across her face tomorrow. But she doesn't really care.

Jo slides her hands into Bucky's hair, and he sighs into her mouth when she angles her hips against his just right, pressing against him slowly. His grip on her waist tightens before he slips his vibranium hand down across her backside to gently guide her movements. His flesh hand covers her right breast, palming her through her shirt.

Jo's hands leave his hair to slide beneath Bucky's t-shirt. He pulls back from her slightly and puts his hand over hers.

“I have scars,” Bucky warns.

“Okay,” Jo mumbles against his lips, trying for another kiss.

Bucky pulls back again. “They’re not pretty.”

Jo looks at him. “Bucky, do you really think I care about that? Do I look like someone who’s worried about conventional beauty standards?” she jokes. She smiles softly and brings a hand up to cradle his jaw. “You don’t have to show me. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” she whispers, leaning in to kiss him again.

He pulls away from her mouth to tug the shirt over his head before he can overthink it. He’s gorgeous like this, and Jo wants to touch every inch of him. She starts with his chest, and her fingers dance lightly across the scars on Bucky’s left shoulder before she presses a quick kiss to the spot where flesh meets metal. Bucky smiles at the gesture, then his lips are on Jo's neck. As he sucks a mark into the place where her neck meets her shoulder, Bucky slips his flesh hand beneath the fabric of Jo's shirt.

Bucky's thumb slides across her nipple, and he pauses, warm metal against his digit stopping him. Jo can feel Bucky's fingers against her breast, trying to work out what exactly he's touching. She leans back, her hands on Bucky's chest to keep him from following her and pulls her t-shirt over her head.

Bucky's fairly certain his heart stops at the sight before him. He’s not sure what to look at first: the small gold balls that adorn either side of Jo’s erect nipples or the intricate floral design inked on her sternum between and below her breasts, framing them perfectly.

“So…I have my nipples pierced,” Jo says, taking Bucky’s staring for hesitation or confusion.

Bucky licks his lips. “Fuck,” he mutters before running his thumb across her right nipple and taking the left one between his teeth.

Jo hisses and bucks her hips harder against his cock. He's hot and hard beneath her as she grinds against him. The feeling he had last night – of being on fire – has returned, but it's tenfold now. Every thought of taking things slow, every bit of doubt has evaporated in wake of his need to please Jo.

Bucky grips Jo's waist and flips her onto her back on the couch, coming to rest between her open legs.

“Is this okay?” he asks, pressing his bare chest against hers. His dog tags are cool against her skin.

“Very," she breathes.

Bucky's lips find Jo's again before trailing across her jaw, down her neck, and over her breasts. He lets his tongue explore one of her pierced nipples before taking the bud between his teeth and pulling slightly. Jo gasps, and her own hands slide from Bucky's shoulders down his chest and across his stomach, her blunt fingernails scratching against his abs as she goes. She palms his cock through his sweats, and Bucky's hips stutter. His eyes clench shut like he’s in pain, and he pulls away to catch his breath.

"Sorry," Jo says quickly, removing her hand. "We can slow down."

"No," Bucky all but growls, then takes another deep breath and opens his eyes. "No. It's just been," he pauses, "it's been a while since I've done this, and you're kind of driving me crazy, Jo." He lets out a breathy laugh, then seems to sober. "I just—I, uh, need to be in control of some things. If that's okay."

She smiles her understanding before kissing him, softer this time. Bucky leans into the kiss and sweeps his tongue into her mouth, tasting her. He props himself up with his vibranium hand, and his right hand moves back to Jo's breasts, teasing each nipple in turn.

"Tell me what you want," Jo says as Bucky's teeth bite gently at her pulse point.

Bucky presses his lips against Jo's ear and whispers, "Touch yourself. Please. I want to watch you fall apart."

Jo whimpers. She catches the look on Bucky's face as her hand travels down her body and into her shorts. His pupils are blown wide, barely a hint of blue visible around black. She knows her own eyes look much the same.

She hisses when her fingers meet the bundle of nerves between her legs, then slide lower. Bucky can't decide if he wants to watch her hand beneath her shorts or her face. He settles for moving his eyes between her face and breasts, watching them rise and fall with each breath she takes. Finally, he lowers his head back between her breasts and traces the outline of the tattoo there with his tongue. Jo moans and bucks her hips.

Bucky presses his own hips against the couch, trying to find the smallest bit of relief. He's not going to last. It's been too long since he's been with someone this way, and his body feels like a live wire. He reaches up to push the fabric of her shorts aside, moaning when he realizes she's not wearing anything beneath them.

He feels Jo's fingers pull away, and he growls, "Keep touching yourself." She does, her fingers rubbing hard circles into her clit. "Good girl," Bucky praises, and Jo keens, Bucky's name falling from her lips.

He slips his own fingers inside of her. She's so wet and warm, Bucky is afraid he'll finish just from this. Or maybe it will be the sound of her moans that do me in, he thinks. Because she sounds lovely, better than she did on stage last night. And she feels perfect wrapped around his two digits. He adds a third, and Jo's whole body tenses. Bucky can feel her warm heat tighten around his fingers as her legs bend and draw in closer to her body. The sight of Jo coming pushes him over the edge. He's spilling into his sweatpants like a teenager, and he doesn't even care. All he can think of is the sound of Jo, the feel of Jo, the look on Jo's face.

Bucky collapses onto Jo's body, his full weight resting on her for a second before he props himself up again and looks at her. She's smiling sleepily, a slightly dazed look in her eyes, and he can't help but admit that it makes his ego swell to know he can make her smile like that.

"That was..." he starts.

Jo hesitates, then runs her fingers through his hair softly. "Good? Great? Amazing?" she says.

Bucky breathes out a laugh and rests his head on her chest for a moment. "All of the above," he replies. Jo hums, and Bucky continues, lifting his head again to look at her, "You're fucking perfect, doll."

Jo laughs, and replies, "You probably say that to all the girls, Sarge."

Bucky sobers. "No, Jo, I don't. Really." He brushes a strand of hair from her face. "When I said I haven't done this in a while, that was an understatement," he says. Dr. Raynor told him he needed to open up, nurture friendships (or whatever this is turning into), so here he goes. "I wasn't really planning on this happening — not that I'm not glad that it did..." He pauses.

"But you live in New York, and I live here. And we just met,” Jo finishes.

"I don't know how things like this work these days," he says. He's looking at her with such sincerity that Jo thinks her heart might burst. "I told you I wanted to do this right. Dinner, flowers, the whole nine yards.”

Jo cocks her head to the side and smiles. "Let's start with dinner."

_____

They lay in silence for a while, Bucky's head resting on Jo's naked breasts, her fingers running through his hair. Jo's starting to think he's fallen asleep when Bucky speaks again.

“I should probably go,” Bucky says reluctantly. "Sam was expecting my help with the boat today."

"I'll drive you," Jo says. "Just let me get dressed."

"You don't have to do that. I can call a cab."

"Delacroix's, like, an hour outside the city. It'll cost a fortune. Let me drive you."

Bucky hesitates, but Jo nudges at his right shoulder gently until he agrees. He presses a soft kiss to her lips before he stands and offers her a hand. While Bucky moves into the bathroom to change back into his own boxers and jeans, Jo slips into her room. She comes back out wearing jeans and a vintage Lilith Fair t-shirt; she's traded her glasses for contacts. Jo shoves her feet into her combat boots at the door and turns back to kiss Bucky quickly before they leave the apartment.

_____

The drive to Delacroix is quiet except for Jo's Paul Simon playlist thrumming from the car speakers. Bucky thinks he might actually like the music. Or maybe he just likes listening to Jo sing every word.

When Jo pulls up outside Sarah's house, Bucky turns to her from the passenger seat. “I don’t have your number,” he says.

“Give me your phone," she responds, smiling and holding her hand out.

Bucky unlocks his phone and hands it over. Jo saves her number before texting herself so she has his, as well. She deletes the text conversation and hands his phone back.

"There you go, Sarge," she says with a wink.

Bucky leans across the car's console and wraps his vibranium hand around the back of Jo's neck. He pulls her close and presses his lips against hers gently. Jo responds by running her fingers across the stubble on Bucky's jaw and sweeping her tongue into his mouth. A moan rumbles through Bucky's chest, and he tries to move closer to Jo's body, but he knocks his knees roughly against the center divider.

"Shit," he curses, pulling away. "It was easier to kiss a dame in the front seat of a car in the '40s," Bucky complains.

Jo laughs. "Kissing a lot of dames in cars, were you?"

"I got around," Bucky says, a grin on his face.

He feels like himself around Jo – not exactly the person he was before the war, but close. He almost feels like he could be a better version of that man; he wants to be that for Jo. For now, though, it's easy to flirt and laugh with her, watch her eyes light up and her smile brighten.

"I believe it, Sarge," Jo teases. Over Bucky's shoulder, she notices Sam standing on the front porch of the house. "I think I've stolen you away from Sam long enough," she says.

"Please, doll, steal me away anytime," Bucky flirts. He kisses her once more. "I'll see you Tuesday," he whispers, his hand lingering on her cheek before he climbs out of the car.

“Looks like someone had a good night,” Sam laughs as Bucky ascends the front porch steps.

“We are not talking about this,” Bucky grumbles.

“Oh, we’re definitely talking about this,” Sam says, clapping Bucky on the back.

______

next chapter

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sergeant barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky x ofc #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes romance #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff

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victoria-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Till Kingdom Come

Chapter Nine: Home on the Range

AN: I’m back! I had trouble writing certain parts of this chapter and at one point I gave up and started writing for the next two chapters. But finally this chapter is done. I also published a playlist for this story that had been sitting in my drafts. Listening to some of the songs I selected as you read through the chapters is just *chef’s kiss*. After this chapter I’m probably going to take break from the story since writing this particular chapter was so draining for some reason. But hopefully when I return I will be feeling rejuvenated and ready to write again.

Happy Holidays!!!

Word Count: 5.1k

Trigger Warnings: violence, racial slurs/dated language

Taglist: @nerds4life246

Chapter Ten: The Black Belle of the West

Sabine was fond of saloons just as much as anyone else, but tonight she visiting the establishment strictly for business. The bounty of Percy "The Fiend" Doyle had been issued by Sheriff Horace Lane, a man who usually offered the bounties that Sabine and the rest of the immortals took up. Working with him was quite the eye opening experience for Sabine. The sheriff was in the minority of accepting women and colored folks as a bounty hunters in a usually white, male-dominated occupation. It gave Sabine some comfort to know that there were some men who didn't let ego, bigotry, or ideas of femininity completely cloud their judgement.

Sabine swirled her bourbon around in its short glass as her eyes scanned over the saloon. The billiard room was so thick with smoke from cigarettes and cigars that it nearly burned her lungs, and the strains of piano music could be heard far off amidst laughter and chatter in the saloon. Laughter that came from rowdy men and pleasurable squeals from the working women lounging in the arms of their potential clients. Throwing back her shot, Sabine placed her glass down and began her prowl for the wanted man.

It was easier said than done.

There were so many people in the saloon that Sabine was having a hard time finding the outlaw. She moved from person to person, to table to table, until she found a familiar looking face. The unshaven beard, the wild, black hair, and the liver-spotted face. She took out the poster that she had been given, and compared the face on it with the man that she was looking at. No doubt, it was a match.

She stuffed the handbill into her chest and pulled the sleeves on her dress down to her shoulders. And with a vivacious smile, she strutted over to the table where The Fiend was playing poker with several other men.

"Anyone one you fellas named Doyle?" Sabine asked, placing her hands on hips.

"Who wants to know?" The Fiend questioned defensively.

Sabine shrugged, "You see, I'm new here and Charlie told me that you're a regular," she explained, playing the stereotypical vapid floozy. "And you always likes to see the new ones," she said, twirling a strand of her hair.

The Fiend looked Sabine over and smirked, "Never laid with a negress before, but I guess you'll do," he remarked, eliciting a few chuckles from the men around him.

The Fiend picked up his glass and downed his whiskey in one swift motion and excused himself with a wolfish smile, showing off his disgusting teeth. Sticking her hand out, Sabine sent the man an alluring smile and the man readily took it and she began to guide him up the wide staircase, The Fiend swatting her behind as they went. She tried not to tense nor flinch when she felt his hand, his action briefly transporting her back to her time on the Martin Plantation, but keeping her cool Sabine maintained her composure. The two of them made their way down a dimly lit hallway, where prostitutes lingered in their doors, smiling flirtatiously at him.

"Gimme a holler if you want a second inning, mister," one girl called, and winked at him, while another blew him a kiss.

They reach the end of the hall to "Sabine's" room and she opened the door, ushering him into it and closed the door behind her. Sabine smiled coquettishly at him as he began to undress, unbuttoning his shirt.

"What's your name?" he asked, pulling the shirt from his body.

"Lisa,"

"Well Lisa, I hope that you don't mind licking," he commented, his tongue darting out from his lower lip.

Sabine felt bile rise in her throat at the gesture, the very thought of his tongue making contact with any part of her made her want to gag. It was repulsive.

Sabine began tugging at her own clothes, "I don't pay no mind to that," she lied smoothly, allowing her dress to fall to the floor.

"Good girl," he cooed, eyeing her from head to toe. "You know, you're a lot prettier than the last one. Hardly had any teeth, and no tits," he described, shaking his head in distaste. "She was a flat thing, and I never liked flat. I wouldn't have mind all that, if she hadn't been such a bad fucker," he remarked, before letting out a sigh and plopping down on the bed. "I enjoyed seeing that bullet go between those blue eyes," he mentioned casually, tugging his boots off.

Sabine feigned shock, "You mean you killed her?" she asked, her voice slightly high pitched, placing her hand on her chest.

"Sure did!" he boasted, a large grin on his face. "She won't the only one too. Five other whores have been met similar fates all across this state," he informed. "I don't like to kill women folk, but if they disappoint old Fiend here, well I don't have a choice then," he went on. "Men are a whole lot easier to kill, they don't usually scream. When I robbed a bank in the Dakotas, I shot this lady and she screamed like a harpy. A shame that I wasn't able to strangle her instead," he finished, shaking his head and laughing lightly.

"It sounds like you've done a lot of killing," Sabine commented, feeling her disgust rise higher and higher at the sorry excuse of man in front of her.

"Oh darlin', it's what I do. I know it's probably not smart to talk to you about this, but if the noose ain't around my neck by now, then I don't think it'll ever be," he gloated, shrugging his shoulders.

She turned to The Fiend and smiled, "You sound like a very smart man," she complimented, watching him unzip his pants.

"What I am is horny," he corrected, staring at her hungrily. "Now come over here and let me get a better look at you," he ordered, beckoning her over.

Sabine walked over to The Fiend and he laid back on the bed, tucking his arms underneath his head. She planted her foot on the bed and slowly began to draw her chemise up.

"I'm sure many people are wanting your head, mister," Sabine mused, biting her lip.

The Fiend shrugged again, "I've got a bounty. About 7,500 dollars. Bunch of bullshit if you ask me, I'm worth a lot more," he proclaimed, puffing his chest out a bit.

"You know, I'd have to disagree,"

Sabine pulled her skirt up to her thigh, revealing her revolver in its holster. Before The Fiend could even react, she whipped out her gun and shot him dead center in the forehead.

"7,500 is far too much for you, bastard,"

High pitched screams and confused shouts rung out from behind her door and below her as she heard of flurry of movement downstairs. Blowing the barrel of her gun off, she slid the revolver back into its holster. Sabine picked up her clothes and redressed herself, mentally reciting the words she was about to say to the more than likely frenzied crowd that was going to be at her door in any moment.

"Everybody calm down, I mean no one else any harm," she would begin. "I am Corinna Vance, a legal representative of the Criminal Justice System of the United States of America. And this man here was a wanted man," she would explain, unfolding the warrant that matched Percy 'The Fiend' Doyle's description.

~~~x~~~

The sound of cheers, clapping, and the thumping of feet against wood reverberated in the air alongside the instruments being played. Strumming and singing to the rhythm of the tune, Sabine felt herself smile at the small audience who were clearly enjoying her performance. She didn't plan on doing this, not in the slightest, Sabine thought maybe around this time of the day she would be having a cup of coffee after finally getting up from bed from the long night she had. She had been tracking down another bounty given to her, this time she didn't even go under a pretense, she just sniped him from afar.

A well deserved rest was in store for her, she could taste it on her tongue.

But then, as soon as she rode into Hickory, Sabine was surrounded by children begging her to play on the banjo. And as much as she wanted to say 'no', Sabine could see the way their eyes lit up at the mere prospect of her performing.

And so she played.

So now that I am old and gray Listen close to what I say The white folks, they will write the show If you can't read, you'll never know

Sabine watched as the children swung each other around to the sound of the fiddle player, his bow striking across the strings as he rolled out the notes. She stared off to her side as she plucked the strings of the banjo with her skilled fingers. Bastien was sitting on their porch drinking from his flask, a smile was stretched upon his face at the cheerful kids in front of him.

Weeks had passed since the incident in Bastien's bedroom, and like with the 'river incident' the two of them mutually agreed in silence that nothing happened. Because technically, it was true. Yes, she and Bastien had a...heated moment that came close to a kiss, but did they do it? No. But of course that didn't stop Josef and Nicky from teasing her, because they knew something had gone down behind the Frenchmen's door.

Better git yer learnin' Better git yer learnin' Better git yer learnin' Before it goes away

Sabine and the fiddler drew the song to a finish, playing the same notes with much enthusiasm and joy. The last note rang out in the air and everyone from the children to the adults lounging around to hear Sabine play erupted in applause.

She did a little bow, "Thank you, thank you," she said, smiling herself. "Like the song I was just singing," she began, gazing at the young children in front of her. "You all need to get your learnin', so back to the schoolhouse," she ordered gently, and all the children simultaneously groaned. Sabine shook her head and wagged her finger. "I will be hearing none of it. Go on, off with you. Playtime is over," she informed, shooing them away with her hand.

Sabine pushed herself up from her seat on the porch step and turned around to see Bastien looking at her already.

"Quite a dark song to sing to children," he stated, with a chuckle. "'Ol' Massah found out, sure enough. And poor old Nick, he got strung up,'" he recited, putting the cap of his flask back on and tightening it.

Sabine walked closer to him, "It is true though," she responded, holding her banjo by the neck. "The penalty was death if a slave was caught trying to educate themselves," she continued, look down the road where the small schoolhouse was. "I'm glad they don't have to suffer or be beaten for wanting to learn," she added.

"I am too,"

She her turned attention back to him, "Why are you drinking so early?" she asked curiously. "It's only eleven," she pointed out.

"Well, in France I believe it's five o'clock," he retorted, slightly grinning.

Sabine snatched the flask from his grip, "That's not an excuse," she said letting out a laugh and running away from him into the house.

As soon as she crossed the threshold of the front door, Sabine felt a hand wrap around her waist and spin her around. Giggles bubbled from her throat as her surroundings whirled around.

"You two having fun?"

Andy's voice shattered Sabine and Bastien from being in their own little world and he quickly placed her on feet, grabbing his flask back with little resistance.

"Morning Andy," Sabine greeted awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck and making her way to the den area.

"Your hunting go well?" she questioned, glancing back down at her newspaper.

"Plentiful," Sabine answered, laying the instrument against the wall. She shrugged her knapsack off her shoulder before reaching into the bag and pulled out a wad of cash. "It's all here. All $7,500 of it," she beamed, walking back over to Andy and handing her the cash.

Sabine remembered bringing the body of the outlaw to the sheriff and him giving her reward. He promised that all the money was there, but she counted the money nonetheless. It was better to be safe than sorry in her opinion.

Andy smiled and nodded, "Nice job," she complimented. "I'd figured you would want to wash up, so I heated some water up for you," Andy explained. "Booker, if you would be so kind to take that pitcher to the washroom," she requested.

"Sure boss," he answered, and walked over to the stove, wrapping the pitcher's handle with a towel.

Sabine watched as his figure disappear down the short hall where the washroom was located, but stopped when she felt like there were eyes on her.

She glanced over to the oldest immortal who had her brow arched, "What?" she asked, removing her hat from her head.

"I've been hearing...rumblings," Andy began, her voice low as she folded the newspaper up.

"Rumblings about what?"

"That something transpired between you and Book while I was away," Andy answered.

Sabine scoffed slightly, "Josef and Nicky said something didn't they?" she questioned, taking off jacket. "What did the two gossipers say?" she asked again, turning around to go hang her things up.

"Nothing compromising if that's what you're worried about," she reassured. "Matter of fact, I'm not completely sure what is going on," she admitted, the chair creaking underneath her as she stood up. "I have an inkling due to Joe's teasing mood as of late,"

Sabine shrugged casually, trying to brush off Andy's suspicions.

She turned around, "It's Josef, when isn't he teasing one of us," she said, with a chuckle.

Andy approached her, "Booker is fond of you," she said bluntly, just loud enough for only her to hear.

Sabine's mouth opened and closed like a fish, trying to form words, "W-Well, I hope he would be, we've only known each other for a decade-"

"That's not what I mean and you know it,"

"Is everything alright?"

Sabine stared past Andy's shoulder and saw Bastien looking at the two of them with a slight frown.

"Yes," Sabine answered, flashing him a smile. "Just us two gals talking," she explained, moving past Andy. "Thanks again for the bathwater," she added, looking over her shoulder at the oldest immortal.

Andy let out a chuckle in disbelief, "Sure, no problem Sabine," she replied, shaking her head.

Sabine went down the hall and pushed the door closed, seeing her clothes that she forgot she left in there folded neatly. Sighing gratefully, she stripped herself from the clothes she was wearing and put them aside before she rinsed her hair. Next, she soaped her face and hands, humming to herself as went. She carefully rinsed her face before taking a wash rag to the rest of her. Finally, Sabine bathed her body and shivers ran down her spine from the chill in the house. She quickly dried herself as best she could and dressed herself in her clothes from the day before.

Dirty clothes in hand, Sabine left the small washroom and out to the main area where Andy, Nicky, and Josef were all seated at the table while Bastien was

Josef's eyes lit up at the sight of her, "My good friends, I think we have a genteel lady in our presence again," he commented, staring at her outfit.

Sabine rolled her eyes and did a little twirl, her skirt dancing at her ankles, "Yes, it is I, Lady Sabine," she announced, straightening her posture and lifting her hand in the air.

Doing a quick bow Sabine left the den, walking towards her bedroom to place her things down and return back to the main area of the home.

"You know that Juneteenth is approaching soon?" Sabine asked, tucking the sides of her blouse into her skirt a little more. "Last year we missed out on the festivities, too busy chasing down outlaws," she remarked, going to pour herself a cup of coffee.

"Ah yes! I can hardly wait!" Josef cheered. "Good food, good drink, music, and dancing. Who could ask for more?" he added, leaning back in chair with his arms behind his head.

"We could all use a bit of fun," Nicky chimed in, as Sabine looked up from her cup.

"But not too much fun," Andy suggested cautiously. “I am not trying to play nanny to any of you,” she joked, a smile reaching her lips.

Sabine went to join the group, "Oh come on Andy," she complained, pulling her damp hair over her shoulder. She walked past Bastien, lightly letting her finger trail across his shoulder, his body stiffening in response. "Bastien is our resident functioning alcoholic," she quipped, taking a seat next to him. "I think we'll be just fine," she added.

~~~x~~~

A light breeze swept through Hickory as Sabine did her afternoon chores outside.

She looked over the clothesline to see children sitting around Hans listening to him tell stories from his homeland. They were interesting tales that had the kids attention completely eaten up. Just the way he told them made them all the more captivating. His hand gestures, the voices he would give the characters, even the facial expressions he put into it. It made her wondered why he didn't teach at a fancy school somewhere instead of...being here.

Sabine pinned another shirt onto the line and lifted her eyes from her work again, just in time to meet Hans' gaze. He sent her a quick wink as he continued his storytelling, she chuckled to herself and shook her head as she bent down to pick up another article of clothing. The sound of a bell being vigorously rung echoed in the air followed by the loud chatter of children passing by her home.

Back to the schoolhouse they go.

Attaching her chemise to the line with clothespins, Sabine could see from the corner of her eye Hans' form strolling over to her.

"Afternoon Miss Vance," he greeted, from the other side of the clothesline.

"Afternoon," she echoed, wiping her hands dry on her dress.

"Hard at work I see," he joked, motioning to the drying laundry.

Sabine chuckled slightly, "Trust me, I've done harder," she replied, knowing the statement would go right over his head.

Hans didn't know that she was a slave, he didn't ask, so she didn't tell. Sabine always wondered if he didn't ask out of dignity or out of pity.

"Then let me grant you a reprieve," he said, sticking his arm out. Sabine glanced over to the clothesline and Hans chuckled. "I make better company than the laundry, I promise," he assured, a twinkle in his eye.

"I guess you have a point," Sabine agreed, her lips quirking up into a smile as she walked over to him.

"How about a ride to the nearby meadow?" Hans suggested, glancing over at her.

"That sounds lovely Hans," she agreed, before walking over to her horse.

Freedom was a beautiful horse, Sabine knew so. The animal was well built, a white stripe ran down nose, her coat a light brown that seemed to drop into a darker brown around her under belly and legs. Yes, Sabine adored the horse, it was her companion on her many bounty hunting trips. She stroked Freedom gently and in return the horse nuzzled her shoulder.

"Good girl," she cooed, giving the horse a pat and mounting it.

Sabine maneuvered her horse, guiding it to the front of her home where Hans waited on top of his own steed.

"Race you there," Sabine said, squeezing her legs on the horse's sides.

Freedom's light trot turned into a sprint as she took off, Sabine felt her plait bounce on her back as she sped off, looking back at the German with a wide unmistakable smile on her lips. Hans flashed his soft gray eyes at her, smiling back as he tugged on his reigns to catch up with her and ride at Sabine's side. Leaning her body back a little, let out a whoop as she felt the wind rush past her.

Soon, the two of them found themselves at a wide meadow full of flowers and tall, green grass.

Slowing her horse down, Sabine gazed at the scenery with a small grin and dismounted Freedom. Hans followed behind her, hopping off his saddle and dusted off a sprinkling of dirt on his horse's rear. Sabine lowered herself onto the ground and laid on her back, not caring if grass got in her hair. Without taking her eyes off the clouds in the sky, Sabine could hear Hans plop himself down next to her.

"Not that I'm not grateful," Sabine began, staring at a cloud that reminded her of a feather. "But why did you bring me out here?" she asked, lazily turning her head in his direction. "The porch is a very comfortable place to sit as you know," she joked.

"Too many prying eyes," Hans answered, staring down at her.

"What? My friends?" she questioned, with a chuckle. "They're harmless," she assured, giving a dismissive wave.

"You sure about that?" he asked back, letting out a laugh of his own. "What's his name, Samuel? I don't think he's that much fond of me," he commented, taking his hat off.

"Oh, Samuel is like that with everyone," Sabine replied, knowing that was lie.

"Miss Vance, I think you're lying to me," he stated, tearing some grass from the ground.

Sabine snickered, "Was it that obvious?" she wondered, resting her hands on her stomach.

"Just a little," he replied, pinching his fingers closely together.

"Samuel is...Samuel is something else," Sabine explained lamely. "He can be a bit cold towards people he doesn't know. I wouldn't take it personally," she instructed.

Hans hummed, "I'll take your word for it," he responded, stroking his beard, clearly not sold on the idea.

Sabine laughed lightly, "Anyways, did you have fun telling your stories today?" she asked, pushing herself up onto her elbows.

"It was wunderbar!" Hans answered, with a grin. "The children seemed to be hooked onto my every last word I said," he recalled proudly.

"I don't doubt it," Sabine agreed. "It makes me wonder why you're not a teacher in some big, fancy school in New York," she commented, looking at him in curiosity.

"I use to tutor children from the upper class for many years and life soon became monotonous for me," he explained, staring out into the meadow. "I kept hearing people say that 'The West' is full of opportunities and new experiences and I couldn't help myself," he went on, shrugging a little. "I know I'm a bit old, but I couldn't shake that sense of adventure off me," he finished, turning towards her with a grin.

"I think you're never too old to have a sense of adventure," Sabine disagreed. "You only get one life, why not live it?" she questioned, managing to keep a straight face as the hypocritical statement slipped past her lips.

"And what about you?" Hans inquired, lightly tapping her thigh. "The children have told me that you are quite the singer," he informed. "Your voice could take you places," he suggested.

Sabine scoffed, "Where would I sing?" she challenged. "In a fucking minstrelsy show to humiliate myself?" she asked, shaking her head.

"Goodness no," he disagreed vehemently. "And I wouldn't want you to subject yourself to that," he added. "I just thought with your singing-"

"There isn't a stage in America that would let my colored ass perform," she cut in. "Look Hans, you may not know this, but being a female bounty hunter sometimes isn't really the most grateful job. Whether it's because you don't have a cock or your skin is not the color of milk. But at the end of the day, I still enjoy what I do. It helps me provide for myself and my friends, takes me to new places, and meet new people along the way," Sabine continued, running her hand through the grass. "Plus, I get paid to kill white folks," she added, a smirk on her face.

"An added bonus I'm sure," Hans responded, with a chuckle. He began to play with his hands before looking at Sabine again. "May I hear you sing?" he requested, with a hopeful look on his face.

"What?" Sabine asked, raising her brow. "Come on," she complained, throwing her head back.

"I haven't had the pleasure of hearing you sing," Hans pointed out.

Sabine exhaled dramatically, "Okay, fine, fine," she conceded, pushing herself up completely.

One evening as I rambled among the springing thyme I overheard a young woman conversing with Reynardine.

Her hair was black, and her eyes were blue, her lips as red as wine. And he smiled as he gazed upon her, did that sly bold Reynardine.

"That's it, I'm not singing any further," Sabine stated, lifting her hands in the air. "If I sing anymore this week, I'm gonna have to start charging people," she quipped.

"But my appetite has not been sated yet," Hans pouted humorously.

Sabine grinned, "Too bad," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders.

"Where did you learn that song from?" he asked curiously.

"Some English fellow that I met this past winter," she replied, a faint smile on her face. "He was a...very pleasant man to be with," she commented, thinking of fond memories about Oliver.

"You meet the darnedest of people out here, don't you?"

"It's like I said, perks of the job," Sabine reminded.

A silence fell between them as another breeze swept through meadow, blowing strands of hair across Sabine's face. She turned her head and stared at Hans with intent. Something was off about him today, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Was there another reason you brought me out here?" Sabine asked, staring at him.

The smile on his face lessened at her question, "Actually yes," he replied, tossing some blades of grass back onto the ground. "I received a telegram from Texas. A friend of mine is having trouble. You've heard of Theo Beck, I take it?" he asked, returning her gaze.

Sabine shrugged again, "A little. Sheriff Lane told me that he killed his family and then robbed a bank?" she answered, wondering where this was going.

"That'd be him. He was suppose to hang last week, but he escaped from his cell the day before his execution. Now, my friend is a federal marshal and he's the one that set the bounty. Dead or alive. Everyone's been searching, and his last sighting was in Oklahoma..." he trailed off.

Sabine's mind quickly put two and two together about this conversation.

"You're leaving?" she remarked, both of her eyebrows raised.

"I'm afraid I am my dear," Hans confirmed, nodding his head.

"I feel like you just got here and now you have to leave," Sabine grumbled, crossing her arms.

"I have to Corinna, I might never see an opportunity with the size of this reward like this again," he explained, raking his hand through his hair. "You are the one who told me that we only get one life," he reminded, slightly grinning.

"Yes, but I didn't think your next adventure would be this soon," she retorted, throwing her hands slightly. "Who's going to teach me German now?" she questioned, shaking her head a bit.

"I'll think you'll do just fine without me schatzi," Hans assured.

~~~x~~~

Sabine and Hans walked alongside their horse as they approached Hickory, deciding to give their horses a rest.

"Before I leave here, I want to give you something," Hans stated, before digging inside his coat pocket. He pulled out the German language lesson book that he had been going over with her. "Something for you to remember me by," he added, extending the book towards her.

Slowly, she pulled the book from his grasp, "Hans, are you sure about this?" she questioned. "We may never see each other again, I'll have no way of returning this to you," she pointed out.

"It's a gift remember?" Hans replied, a small smile on his face. "And when we do meet again, I expect us to have full fledged conversation in German, recalling all our wonderful exploits," he corrected, with an affirmative nod.

Sabine laughed, "I look forward to it," she concurred, clutching the book against her chest.

Hans stepped forward, gently taking her by the arms, "Before I depart I would like to also give you a proper goodbye,"

She arched an eyebrow, "'A proper goodbye'?" she repeated, wondering what he meant as he pulled her into his embrace.

"Yes, something that I've been wanting to do for a while," he continued, as he slid his hands around her waist.

Lowering his head ever so slightly, Hans planted his lips on her mouth. Sabine gladly allowed herself to lean into him, exhaling gently as she reciprocated the kiss. For that instant, they were totally unaware of everything and everyone around them. Hans' grip on her waist tightened, deepening their embrace. From the corner of her eye, Sabine saw a figure emerge from the front door of her home. Abruptly, she pulled away from Hans when she recognized who it was. Bastien. Clumsily, the book slipped from her hands, dropping it onto ground with an echoing thud.

Embarrassment was written all over her face.

"Samuel! I-I-didn't you see there," Sabine said sheepishly, her hands folding into one and other in a nervous, awkward motion.

"I can see that," Bastien responded, with harsh plainness.

Sabine glanced over to Hans, expecting to see the same wide-eyed expression as her, but instead Hans looked smug. Completely unfazed that Bastien had caught them in such a position. Sabine started to believe that's what made Bastien angrier as his nostrils flared and a vein on his forehead protruded out in anger.

Hans faced Sabine again, "Auf wiedersehen," he said, before kissing the top of her head.

The German climbed onto his horse and spurred it forward with his heels, sauntering past the town's wooden placard. As he left, Sabine could hear him humming a little tune to himself and she instantly recognized it.

It was the song Reynardine.

Chapter Eleven: Green-eyed

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nightmaresindreamland · 3 years

Text

Spring Smash Seminar Q&A

I’m going to go ahead and answer questions (that I HAVE received) about the event here for a more indepth understanding, since the other post is a bit lacking in clarity.

Q: How many muses can I enter in this?

One mun may have 4 muses enter.

Q: Can I have some muses from my multi and a muse from my singular muse blog join?

Yes. For example, you could have two from the multi and then the muse from your singular blog. Again, it’s 4 muses per 1 mun.

Q: What days is it on?

The event is scheduled from March 28th to April 1st. The event is annual.

Q: How do I participate?

All you have to do is visit the linked Shindan I post at 9am (MST), then post your screencapped results (preferably with a little in character blurb) publicly. I stop taking entries at 12am (MST) so that way I can queue up the next day’s results with the winners of that particular day’s games.

Q: What if my muse wouldn’t want to participate / can’t participate?

Then don’t.

Q: What’s a Shindan?

Here’s an example of one.

Q: Is it okay if I join late?

Yes. Just do the Shindan of the day that you join.

Q: I’m already participating but I want to have a new muse from another blog join. Is it okay if they join late?

Yes. Again, just do the Shindan of the day that they join.

Q: Is it okay if I only do one day or two days of the event?

Yes. This event is low-stress, low-effort, and just for four days. If you can’t make it to them, it’s not a big deal.

Q: Do I do the previous Shindans too?

No. This is because the Shindans are set to have a different result every day, and in character, the rewards already have been handed out.

Q: Is it okay to join if I don’t have a smash bros verse / smash bros related character?

Yes.

Q: Is it okay to join even if we aren’t mutuals / I don’t follow you?

Yes. Just post in the springsmashseminar tag or DM your results to me so I’m sure to see them.

Q: Should I make my own event tag for this?

I don’t mind, just so long as the tracked tag, springsmashseminar, is also tagged so I can see your results.

Q: How do I see other people’s scores?

I post up a ‘leaderboard’ of the scores on the first day, and document everyone’s there.

Q: My score isn’t on the leaderboard, why?

Because I haven’t seen it. To ensure I do, you should DM the post to me.

Q: What if I tie with someone?

If you tie with someone, you and the other person will be contacted to do a tiebreaker. These results must also be posted publicly, and before 12am my time (MST).

Q: How much should I write for this?

This is just a fun and silly event. Don’t feel obligated to write a million words just for one result. You can one-line, you can purple prose, do whatever you want. Just don’t feel obligated to hold up posting your results just because you haven’t made three paragraphs worth of indepth character narration.

Q: What do I do if I double with someone?

If a double has appeared, the person who has done their results second will be asked to change their character’s name. This is because Shindans are name-based RNG systems, and we can’t have two people getting the same results.

For example, in 2021, we had two Shulk’s enter. The person who did their Shindans second was asked to add more onto the name of their Shulk so their results could be different.

Q: Can I change my character’s name mid-event?

No. Whatever you picked for the character’s first Shindan must be kept throughout the entirety of the event, omitting someone doubles.

Q: What if my character is a duo package?

If you have a character like Banjo & Kazooie, who fight together or are always together, you can have them act as a team. This just means entering their name into the Shindan as ‘Banjo & Kazooie’. This counts as one entry, despite being technically two muses. You can also have them compete separately, but that’s up to you to decide because I don’t mind either way.

This is a special rule only for duo characters.

Q: What’s the point of me doing the Shindan when someone else has already gotten a perfect score?

You could get a perfect score too. This is all RNG. If you don’t take the chance then your chance of losing is going to be 100%.

Q: Other people are doing tiebreakers right now! Does that mean I missed that day’s event?

No. You only miss the day’s event if it’s past 12am my time (MST). You can still participate to see if you get a tie-worthy score too. This is all RNG. I call for a tiebreaker as soon as I see them so that way everyone who tied still probably has a chance to be online and able to participate.

More things may be added if I get more questions.

#springsmashseminar

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secretradiobrooklyn · 3 years

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Secret Radio | 7.24.21, 8.7.21 & etc.

“Better, Better, Back” Secret Radio | 7.24.21, 8.7.21 & etc. | Hear it here.

- Mort Garson - “Plantasia”

1. Jean-Pierre Djeukam - “Africa Iyo” - “Cameroon Garage Funk”

The main musician I think of from Cameroon is Beti-Beti, and this is a whole different thing. Endless props to Analog Africa for providing fiery track after track. This is the sweat from their newest collection!

2. Eyedress - “Jealous”

Paige hears something in this and when I unfocus my eyes I do too. (Literal?) high school skate kids gettin in their shallow feels. I will admit that the chorus “time-time” is killer.

3. Nahid Akthar & Tafo - “Takra We Gutt Bhar Le” (I think)

Nahid Akthar’s voice is so completely bewitching that the amazing arrangements almost sneak by. Tafo is the producer of this track I believe, and the narrative structure of the music is just so confident and encompassing. But then also: man, that VOICE. She’s right up there with Ros Serey Sothea in expressiveness and character.

4. Oruã - “Escola das Roas” - “Sem Bênção / Sem Crença”

My thanks to you, Marc, for pointing this band to us. I have fallen in love with this particular recording, it just gets more thoroughly better with every listen. Calvin Johnson mentioned this band in a recent K newsletter — they’re a Brazilian band who corresponded with Doug Martsch as mutual fans until at some point Doug decided his own band needed replacing and he brought them out as Built to Spill and also as Oruã. This track also has shades of Sonic Youth’s “Master-Dik,” one of my all-time ultra faves. It really hits me in the ’90s, and I rilly want to see how some of this music is performed live.

5. Jacques Dutronc - “Le Responsable”

I’m so thankful to have Jacques Dutronc in my life. His rock songs knock me into gear like nothing else — and the whole band has its own very specific flavor. It kicks!

6. Sleepy Kitty - “Alceste in Silverlake”

At very long last, there is a new Sleepy Kitty album on the way! It’s in line at the record plant as I type this. And this is a song from the perspective of a musician-seeking drummer in LA, crossed with the most brutally honest man in all of France.

7. Sakuran Zensen - “錯乱前戦ロッキンロール” (I Wanna Rock & Roll)

We only knew one song by this band (that we’ve played here) because the video was rad, but I looked to see what else was there and this song is just freakin great with me. The chords are really cool and his vocal delivery is just so over the top it’s impossible not to love. And the guitar solo is basically a full-on tonefest, which I appreciate more than a bunch of flying fingers. The video helps fill in the picture nicely too, I think, though I like the song while not looking at it even more.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPCqT3e89SU

- Mort Garson - “Concerto for Philodendron & Pothos”

8. Clothilde - “Fallait pas ècraser la queue du chat”

All hail the French instinct for chamber music instruments as pop instruments, and then as a kind of technicolor weirdness. The orchestration of this song is a work of art in itself, and that doesn’t even account for her self-harmonizing melody. If you haven’t already, picture a brunette bob and deep mascara.

9. Public Service Broadcasting - “Spitfire”

I can’t remember now how I found this music, though I think it might’ve been from Josh’s playlist? This is from 2012, but they have a new album coming out almost exactly a month from now. In Bound Stems Tim and I got really into interlacing snatches of other people’s words into the music we were making, and this is very congruent with that interest. I feel like this song passes tests as it goes.

10. Shocking Blue - “Send Me a Postcard”

I first heard of this band when I was learning everything I could about Nirvana, and I’d heard both versions of “Love Buzz” and knew they were both great, but we only recently caught this track. It’s the bridge between “White Rabbit” and “Territorial Pissings.”

11. Metak - “Tetrapak”

Our favorite Croatian band! Everything about this song is delightful. I feel like if this song was in English I’d probably cringe at the lyrics, but in this format I can only hear how much fun the song is to play. I am one-quarter Croatian, which means I can’t understand any of the lyrics either but I do see little ghosts of myself in the pictures of the band somehow. It’s weird.

12. Katerine - “Louxor J’adore”

-Anything I could say about this song is eclipsed by this excerpt:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uD7QuV6f_MA

The performance to the cemetery knocks me out

13. Erkin Koray - “Seni Her Gördügümde”

Whenever we’re listening to Anatolian psych, the songs with the most creative ideas and satisfying riffs and great vocal passages are always Erkin Koray. The four-piece arrangements are so good, and then he doesn’t hesitate to step up with his guitar to narrate a passage. Also, I really like how Turkish rock sounds so Indian and also Arabic and also French.

14. WITCH - “Chifundo”

Zambian prog rock! I haven’t heard anything like this track anywhere else in Africa yet. The thing is, this version of prog includes the exact flavor that Yes totally lacks, and thus I really love listening to this track in a way most prog rock doesn’t hit me. The time switches and the lead part over the top are just so smooth!

15. Ezra Furman - “Psalm 151”

We’ve been listening to a lot of Ezra Furman’s music lately, and it’s only getting better and more engrossing with every listen. We toured with Ezra Furman’s band about 5 years ago and every night was a pleasure. They’re finishing up a new album, which makes this a great time to listen to the others. This entire album, “Transangelic Exodus,” is a masterpiece as far as we’re concerned, and I find myself thinking the whole time too about Tim Sandusky’s production. Tim’s such a home town for us, and to hear his full attention on this album is just such a pleasure.

16. Ralph Stanley - “White Light, White Heat”

It was one of my favorite musical influence moments ever when my dad’s bluegrass band, The Prozac Mtn Boys, played VU’s “What Goes On.” Knowing that there is a recording of one of my dad’s true banjo heroes playing “White Light White Heat” is just an endless blessing. And actually hearing it is even better.

17. Kim Jung Mi - “Ganadaramabasa”

I know basically nothing about this track except that she’s Korean and this is from 1973. She’s got a real Diana Ross thing going on, and her band has a real Supremes vibe too… but it doesn’t sound like one of their songs.

18. Penny Penny - “Yogo Yogo”

We just got this record recently, and based on this track I wouldn’t’ve necessarily pictured the remarkable-looking guy who actually made this music. This is from the album “Shaka Bundu.” I’m sure it’s been cranked up and sent through some great house remixes — how could this not be? — but I like how this tempo operates at its own pace. It’s so truly and thoroughly ’80s, very 20th century. In the 21st century this tempo is practically cerebral.

19. Baris Manço - “Binboganin Kizi”

More Anatolian action. It’s really interesting to me how Turkish stuff was always associated with psych music but I didn’t really know how except for the opium thing, and I now understand that it’s in the chord relationships, well, and a lot of the vocal melody and delivery. In that way, Turkish rock pretty much defines what psych music sounds like. Wow. And check out that keyboard solo, so next level!

20. The Velvet Underground - “Countess from Hong Kong”

People are always asking Beatles or Stones and the answer is Velvet Underground. (And the Beatles, and the Stones.) They were just operating along a different balance beam than those other guys — performing different tricks for a different audience. While the Beatles were defining pop music, the VU were destroying it… but then later, they reveal their deep affinity for Western music, even as they never drop in to the blues-centric reading of it. It’s truly punk. I guess they are to punk what the Beatles are to pop — the definition of pop is whatever flows to or from the Beatles; punk is whatever flows to or from the Velvet Underground. Certainly more than any single band in 1976 or 7 or whatever.

21. Bella Bellow - “Denyigban”

The piano phrase that kicks this song off is surprisingly close to the opening of Bound Stems’ “Appreciation Night.” We got that phrase from the demo mode of Radz’s keyboard, and it’s surreal to hear a high-overlap version in a song from Togo. Her voice is so clean in tone and pitch, and what’s strangest to me is that I register the instrumentation in an almost Disney mode — but then realize that’s because Disney will draw on Caribbean and African elements at times as they establish characters and settings. Such an elegant song though!

22. Rail Band - “Mouodilo”

One of the first insights that got us into WBFF was the realization that James Brown had even more fundamental influence on the music of the world than the Beatles did — certainly in Africa. Hearing how his delivery interrelates with so many bands from all across Africa is such a revelation. This track just keeps winding around you til you can’t hardly live without it.

- Asha Bhosle - “Salma Jarir Jhalak”

All I know about this is that it’s in Bangla and it’s from a movie.

23. Unknown - “Chemirocha” - from “Love Is Love”

Several years ago, when African records looked interesting but we literally didn’t know anything about them, we bought a record called Love Is Love, in part because it was a beautiful cover and in part because the music seemed mysterious and full of possibility. Now, when I go to look for it online, I see no sign — I think it’s just a really small pressing from a… pirate group, I guess one could say? But really I think just hardcore music lovers. Anyway, it has this song “Chemirocha” on it, and there’s a story about this song that is really probably just best to link to because it’s so amazing. I guarantee you will find the information in this article worth your read:

https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/chemirocha-how-an-american-country-singer-became-a-kenyan-star

24. Sparks - “Do-Re-Mi”

We’ve known about Sparks, but we’re late to a close listen. We’ve been listening a lot in anticipation of — not the band bio pic but “Annette,” the new film by Carax, one of our favorite directors ever. For that matter: make sure to watch “Holy Motors” by Carax. It’s probably best if you watch “Lovers on a Bridge” before that, but if you have to go straight to “Holy Motors,” dive right in. It’s amazing.

Meanwhile: This take on the Mary Poppins classic is TOO MUCH — I can’t stop smiling at the end, when the bells start tolling over the crashing drums and crescendoing vocal waves as their third finale fades away. How can anyone make this song, the very definition of not-rock, rock so fully?

- Mort Garson - “Ode to an African Violet”

25. Bob Reuter’s Alley Ghost - “She Brought Me to the Wire”

I will forever be glad that we not only landed in a city where we could find out about the person and the works of Bob Reuter, but that we got to know and work with him. Bob Reuter was one of the definitions of St. Louis to us, and when he passed, so did some of that city. But also, he left music and photos and stories in Eleven and chapbooks that I truly hope last forever. He was the hard-living romantic that you hope lives in the heart of every hard-luck case… and in his one instance, it was true. Bless your soul, Bob Reuter.

photos by Bob Reuter from The Pageant and El Leñador

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