#trad piece soon too [:

[8bit-mau5]

Traditional bust sketch commission for @corvidonline ! This lady is so pretty and i loved drawing her big wavy hair 🥺

If you enjoy my art and would like to keep seeing more, feel free to support your local trans artist by [tipping me] on kofi 💙

#artists on tumblr #traditional art #dnd #dnd art #dnd oc #Gabriel's arts #commission #i finished this at 5am so i wanted to wait til it was a more REASONABLE hour to post skdjhfh #technicallyi should post these in batches but i prefer to post as i finish things. cos if i hold onto stuff ill FORGET #Im 80% done with another traditional bust sketch from my queue and working on another #trad piece soon too [: #i wanna use my new markers i got with wally soooo bad. SOON!! #anyways. look at her and love her #i rlly enjoy drawing ruffles can you tell

[desirepathzine]

A couple of months before the Covid 19 pandemic sent me home from college, I was unable tot listen to anything but Head Like A Hole by Nine Inch Nails. Walking to and from class, sittng by myself, pounding through the blackbox speakers at 1030 at night when I could just lay on the floor and listen.

I'd been on the fringes of trad goth music for some time (the on-repeat listening prior to Head Like A Hole was A Letter to Elise by The Cure), but something about the mechanized anger of industrial was breaking me open in a different way. Powerful, vulnerable, LOUD.

I had been familiar with Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross' soundtrack work. One of the most foundational films of my youth was The Social Network, David Fincher's 2010 piece about the founding of Facebook, a movie that on release felt cutting edge and has only grown in prescience, feeling like an apocalyptic prophecy from a time before the site became synonymous with conspiracy theories and election fraud. The score to The Social Networrk was like nothing I had ever heard before. I, a homeschooled, deeply neurotic, deeply Christian tween was not in an environment conducive to listening to Nine Inch Nails yet (my mother regularly admonished me for the 70s punk that filled my iTunes library). But those sounds, sometimes desolate, sometimes manic, always compelling, were on constant rotation for years. I wrote many school papers and stared out many car windows to The Social Network score over the years. And always just kind of put the band itself off for another time.

That time arrived. I was 21, and feeling more and more like a person with something to say, ready to graduate into a world that I was eager to be a part of. That did not happen. In March of 2020, I was sent home for a two week spring break that turned into a forever spring break.

With nothing holding me together, confined to a house I had not wished to return to, and in circumstances that literally comprised my worst nightmares (I have long been a hypochondriac who used to have real and actual panic attacks about the outbreak of a new virus), one of the only effective ways I had found to cope was throwing myself into the music of Nine Inch Nails.

NIN as a band seems remarkably suited to pandemic times. Songs like "Every Day Is Exactly the Same" and "We're In This Together" felt almost too on the nose in the everyday banal struggles of the early Covid era in America. But for me, the most catharsis came from the bombastic rage of their famous Woodstock 94 set.

Trent Reznor and co. took to the stage absolutely coated in mud, fighting weather and faulty equipment, and smashed through a set of their early work, becoming the talk of the festival, and setting a high watermark for the culturally explosive year of 1994, perhaps the only time in history a band like Nine Inch Nails could chart as high as they did. The set features a rabid performance of Happiness in Slavery, two songs that were featured in classic films from the year (their cover of Joy Division's Dead Souls as featured in The Crow, and Burn from Natural Born Killers), Trent saying fuck on PPV TV and being quite pleased with himself, a sound issue riddled performance of their Grammy award winning "Wish" in which Trent still manages to scream the infamous "fist fuck" line into the mic, a tech team scrambling to dodge Yamaha DX-7s, guitarist Robin Finck getting tripped up in guitar chords and eating shit during Down In It, and in general, the sort of controlled chaos that I most strongly associate with Nine Inch Nails. The first time I watched this set, I was spellbound. Pretty Hate Machine, NIN's first album, was absolutely made to be heard live. As soon as I heard Trent option up into a scream on Terrible Lie's last verse, I was sold forever. To say nothing of the whirring rage of Sin, which remains my favorite Nine Inch Nails song most days.

I watched this performance, at minimum, twice a week. I too felt like a small screaming Trent Reznor, covered in mud, rolling around on the stage. It was cathartic, captivating, and a good way to mosh it out between zoom classes to finish my degree and anxiously watching the Covid case counter march steadily upwards.

Shortly before all hell broke loose, Nine Inch Nails was announced as an inductee into the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame. Normally, this entails an induction ceremony with a performance by the bands. (The 2020 class would have been particularly strange, seeing as three of its most famous entrants had passed on, Marc Bolan of T-Rex, Whitney Houston, and The Notorious B I G) . But nonetheless, I was looking forward to it.

Just as I did not to have a graduation ceremony in December of 2020, there was no cathartic reunion of past members for Nine Inch Nails. Just as some guy I didn't even know read my name from a list on a livestream, so Nine Inch Nails was given a slickly produced video package and a pre-filmed introductory message from Iggy Pop (it would've been cool if Iggy Pop read my name at graduation though).

I felt a sort of kinship, however small, in this fact. Culminations of years of hard work and promised celebration postponed and reworked again and again and again.

In 2021, as the vaccines rolled out and events little by little started to reappear, the Rock Hall museum reopened, and installed an exhibit for the 2020 class. There, right next to a Depeche Mode display, was enshrined a tribute to the Woodstock 94 performance, lovingly rendered with mud and all.

I immediately knew I had to see it. After some discussion, I begged it off as a graduation trip a year in the making, and in June of 2021, after vaccination, during a dip in cases prior to the Delta variant arriving in the states, my dad and I took a roadtrip to Cleveland. My dad, not a NIN fan by any means but a music lover who knows the kind of impact a band can make on a person, graciously escorted me up the country and listened patiently as I infodumped about my favorite band and made him listen to a lot of goth music in the car.

The day we arrived at the museum, I calmly took in the multitude of sights at the Rock Hall, moseying through relics of music history and reading all the plaques, but I was abuzz. I knew what floor the new inductees exhibit was on, and I knew when we were approaching. I sprinted off the escalator and there was the alcove, there was the installation, and blasting loudly in the little room was "We're In This Together". I had made it. I cried.

That in and of itself would have been a good full circle moment, but unbelievably, the story gets better. I ended up in Cleveland again a year later, seeing a q and a with NIN at the Rock Hall, where members past and present got together to celebrate the band's legacy, and the next day got to see all of them perform together, some for the first time in years, at the Blossom Center in Ohio. Sitting in a small lecture room with the folks who had made such a strong impact on my life and kept me going through some of the roughest times I had ever known was incredible. They were older, wiser, and all extremely gracious and very funny.

They resurrected the NIN Woodstock installation for the occasion, but I was too busy getting coralled into a VIP line to go to the Q and A and catching my best Discord friend after they tripped down the escalator to hug me to go see it. I hope other folks got to see it and have their full circle moment. It's crazy to think that a mannequin in raggedy clothes covered in fake mud with a DX-7 could have had such a big impact on my life, but every time I see a picture from my trip, or just the image itself out in the wild, I am overcome with emotions.

And now, as I enter yet another era of my life where things are uncertain and hard, I hold my two road trips very dear. As ever, thanks Trent.

[charlotteswebbbbb]

What's the vibe? #2

Okay I'm back.

Yesterday (8 Sept 2022), Queen Elizabeth II died at age 96. Our new monarch and head of state is King Charles III. The country is in a period of mourning until the 20th of September with many brands like Raf Simons and Burberry cancelling their LFW shows. Hackney Carnival and the Premiere League games scheduled for this weekend are also cancelled. The Queen's funeral on the 19th of September (which is a Monday) is a public holiday.

New Burberry? They want Daniel Lee of former Bottega fame to head up and refresh the brand. Isn't that a bit controversial considering how he left? Who knows.

Apple, this week have announced the new iPhone 14 in their various sizes (Pro and Max) and new iterations of the Apple Watch. Interesting technology evolution is that the phone can be used in emergency SOS situations where there is no cellular or wifi coverage by connecting to the satellites in space.

A few things to read:

The Thrill Is Gone: An Interview With Blackhaine - The Quietus

How restaurants became dinner parties - Grub Street

I thought dinner parties would be more in but perhaps not now that this post lockdown life is making everyone feel like the world is bigger and better?

Real Life is shutting down - probably one of the best publications with cutting edge thinking no longer had the funding to continue.

Things to look out for:

Bodies Bodies Bodies is out in the UK this week alongside Crimes of The Future. Official Competition has been out for maybe the past week.

The ICA is celebrating 75 years this year and was going to have a party - but now it's postponed to 2023 :(

People I love:

Lyzza - I'll talk more about her in the future but NTS show host and so cool.

Trends:

The energy bills are still going up to a cap of £2500 for the year, which was announced by new Prime Minister Liz Truss (swooping in on her first day on Tuesday).

Housing is still *still* continuing to be a huge situation for young people - and with interest

In Scotland this week Nicola Sturgeon announced rent controls.

With the death of our monarch in combination with "market forces" squeezing the life out of young people, I do worry about the rise of conservatism in social attitudes. We've seen this in the US with the Red Scare girls and the trad Cath moment on TikTok so I'm wondering how far these waves go.

This week a study has come out saying that we are on the way to five irreversible climate tipping points if we reach 1.5 degrees of warming.

Also bigger countries are thinking about giving up on 1.5 degrees as a target? Need to find the source for this but online hate speech increases with temperature. Asos looks to be flailing a little bit financially? Administration soon? Culturally - fast fashion is definitely at a turning point. There’s too much beauty! - Stella McCartney, Kate Moss, kylie baby

Headphones as accessories and retro style? I’ll expand on this next week but TikTok trends….

Celebrities are in disfunction right now? The Don't Worry Darling controversy of last week and celebrities such as Joe Jonas, Gwyneth of Goop and our constantly breaking the 4th wall actress, Julia Fox now talking about a new botox injection called XEOMIN? Please watch the link above, you're in for a ride. Maybe the general public is craving spectacle? Craving something authentically good?

Events:

Haunted Dancehall - 2 October 2022 - Ireland

Unsound Festival - Kraków, Poland - 9-16 October 2022

#what's the vibe #vibe #parsed

[bas-writes]

Long selfship talk under the cut, Ahoy! You guys shared so many beautiful stories and dynamics with me! Unfortunately, tumblr didn't let me @ some of you, I hope you will somehow find this post 😭

@sparkly-ginger said:

Oooh boi, oh boi, I selfship with Kid, Ace and Shanks I'm sorry I can't control myself 😔🤤. But not the three of them in the same timeline, I'm a lazy ass and I just follow the timeline I mostly use in the respective story I wrote (still writing lol) for each of them. For Kid I just love starting from Sabaody, for Ace I like to concentrate on his backstory as a new man of Whitebeard, and for Shanks his past before he met Luffy. Seems like I like imagining and writing things from the gaps Oda left 😂! But yeah I'm kinda obsessed with them, especially Ace who was my VERY FIRST anime crush even I didn't even know anything about selfship etc. 😏 BUT as I said I'm a lazy ass and I don't publish anything on my blog cause I can't bother trad them in english.... sorry folks. 😅

Two redheads and a freckle boy! I love how you made three separate timelines for them (though, not gonna lie, seeing this happening in one... hmm, it'd be possible, but smells angst too much 😅).

And no need to be sorry! ❤

@lazybutsmexy said:

DENJIRO!! I swear I got it bad for this man as soon as he appeared. Who gave him the right??? Tall, handsome, gentlemanly, a sprinkle of crazy and a swordman on top of all. How dare he enter my heart like that?? I do imagine being one of the courtesans in the pleasure house who gets more of his attention than others hehehe there's a bit of backstory as well, but I'm a bit too busy to write anything, so it will stay in my head 🥰 Also, Pell!! He doesn't get enough attention and it hurts my soul. He deserves more love and I'm here to give it all to him. (I hope to remedy that lack of content a little with my entry for your raffle, which I'll be posting soon hehehe)

I ABSOLUTELY UNDERSTAND YOU WITH DENJIRO, ALRIGHT?! He really just appeared and stole everyone's panties, ngl.

I just hope he will be as immortal as Pell cause lately... Who reads Wano, knows 😂

Waiting for that Pell piece 👀

@pirate-shrimpi said:

well... uh... the angy tulip? who would have thought haha. He got very cocky lately with all the attention he gets now.. but I am happy :D but then there is he other side that is just in love with a certain Orca and Penguin. <3

Kid fans eat well in Wano 👀 And the best is still in front of you, both in anime and manga 👀

Shachi and Penguin are so adorable 😳 They deserve this love!

@doublesohsandwich said:

As you may have guessed... I self-ship with Killer! I just love this big blonde man. I get heart-eyes when I see him lol Also, I've been following you so long and root for your self-ship so much that sometimes when Law and Zoro are onscreen I'll catch myself thinking "aww look at Bas's boyfriends, getting along!" 😅

Oh yes, I know well 👀 And can't blame you, Killer is my favorite Kid Pirate! Great husbando material, he can cook!

Haha, omg, this flatters me 😂 I hope it doesn't ruin One Piece for you ^^"

@selfshipcornchip said:

I used to selfahip with Luffy back when One Piece was on season 1 or 2. Yknow, 100 years ago.

I feel like everyone has their Luffy selfship phase at some point 😂 No wonder, he's a great character and a great inspiration!

@cherryblossom-chopper said:

I self ship with Usopp or Robin 😳😳

Oh, Usopp! So happy this boy gets some love and attention, he's so underrated 😭 What can I say about Robin, a wife material 👀

@kaizokuwritings said:

so if you don't mind... I'm shipping with Mihawk and Gaban, Mihawk because he's a charismatic and smart man, Gaban because he's funny and petty 👀💃🏼

Mihawk & Gaban is the new zosan lmao

I see, you have a taste for daddies mature with class 👀 Y'know, when I think about it now, I find them quite similar? Not in an obvious way, but there's something connecting them.

There's that truth we all do, indeed, have a type 👀

@elen87 said:

I don’t know much about self ships, I didn’t even knew they were a thing up until now?? but yeah, I’ve been in love with Ace since like 2003, I just love him so much, I was heartbroken after Marineford and after some time I just decided to kinda ignore that part I guess, in order to hurt less

Ignoring canon is a selfcare! Besides, there are always various AUs to explore, so no one would suffer ❤ Ace lives and is all healthy with you!

@theiriskriss said:

My heart and soul belongs to vista

Some things never change - and your dedication to Vista is one of them! 😊

@shirorabu said:

I’ll put my two cents in and say that Sanji is my love and my light ✨💖✨ and I’m here to give him the husband he so well deserves. My story is so so detailed it would take pages to talk about so I’ll spare the details. If anyone else from the replies wants to chat as well, my dms are always open ^^)/

I'm so, so glad Sanji receives the love from you! Was watching his Germa backstory with my sis today and we both cried so much 😭

And if you don't mind it, you can always slip into my dms as well, with no matter how many pages of details 👀

@salemzwitch said:

I selfship with Crocodile. I just like evilish bastard characters like him, something about them just makes me feel so soft

The bastards do have the charm 👀 Personally not the villain-ish type of characters fan, but I see a lot of fans of them and I can only root for you all! <3

#selfship #nakama selfship

[queenofspades20]

Goddesses and their Gods (3/3)

Here is the final chapter of my submission for @bonkywobble’s Halfway to 1k challenge. Had fun writing this. Might do some one-shots in the future.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader; Hephaestus!Bucky x Aphrodite!Reader

Synopsis: the wedding. Just some fluff. 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Fluff, some very slight angst (wedding nerves)

Y/n and Natasha sat on their spot on the beach, drinking some fun drinks and discussed their ideas for the wedding.

“I know pretty much all the gods and goddesses need to be there, but I don’t want to go crazy. Bucky isn’t the biggest fan of crowds and it’s our day, so I want him to be happy with everything, too.”

“Y/n, you know that god will be happy if you are. You could demand that everyone has to wear pink and he’d go along with it,” Natasha pointed out. She knew Y/n wasn’t the type to go overboard, despite what others might think.

“Yeah, I’m not really feeling that. I may be the Goddess of Love, but even I don’t need everything and everyone in one color. What about these two colors for the wedding?” She pushed a couple of swatches towards Natasha. [Pick your two favorite colors]

Natasha really liked the colors together. She could see Bucky being happy with them as well.

“I think they look great. Do you want to use them as accents?”

“Well, I want to use this color for the bridesmaids dresses for you, Wanda, and Pepper. As well as for color accents for the guys,” Y/n said, pointing to one of the colors. “And I want the other color to be used for the flowers.”

Natasha was impressed. “I think that would look really nice. What about your dress?”

“I’m going with non-white. I’m leaning towards a soft champagne or silver color for my dress and my flowers will be a mix of the two colors. I have to run this by Bucky too, to see what he thinks.” Y/n looked thoughtful. “I hope he likes them.”

“I’m certain he will. And I love that you are trying to get him involved. Do you really think he’ll help?”

“Well, we already decided on our cake and the menu for the reception. He’s been pretty involved actually. I love it. Him wanting to be involved makes me feel as if he really is excited for this.”

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“I know wedding stuff isn’t for everyone. Bucky has made some great suggestions too. This wedding is about both of us, the day we start the rest of our lives together.”

“You really are a romantic.”

“Well, it comes with the job,” Y/n laughed out. “I guess I was made for it.”

“You were. You and Bucky really make the rest of feel love. It’s like you project it out. It’s the best feeling.”

Y/n smiled. “I really lucked out with him.”

 Bucky was working in his forge, finishing up some bolts for Tony. He wanted to get a head’s start on some of the projects he agreed to take on before the wedding, so that he and Y/n could have a nice extended honeymoon. He heard a crash from behind him. Bucky quickly turned around to see Steve trying to put the items back on the table he had knocked over.

“Sorry, Buck.”

“Don’t worry about it, Steve. Those are just some toys I’ve been working on. Thankfully nothing dangerous. What brings you by?” Bucky set the bolt in the holder he had created for them and made his way over to where Steve was standing.

“Wedding details. Y/n gave me a list to give to you. You get to make the decisions for these things.” Steve handed over a piece of paper. There were a few things on the list.

“That’s not too much. I think this wedding is pretty much planned out,” Bucky said, looking at the list.

“Big day is in a week, right?”

“Yeah. Y/n mentioned there were a few last minute things that would come up, but we have all the big details down. I can’t wait to see her at the altar.”

“You planned this pretty quickly.”

“Well, we didn’t want to waste time. I knew she was the one for me on our first date. She’s amazing.” Bucky got a happy dazed look in his eyes.

“And you didn’t want Tony to change his mind.” Steve smirked.

“Uh, duh. He can be pretty impulsive.” Bucky laughed. “Honestly, I don’t think he would change his mind on this. He’s getting his bolts back and Y/n is happy, which is what he wants. He wouldn’t do anything to make her sad, not intentionally.”

“True.”

“Any other reason you stopped by?” Bucky knew his friend well enough to know when he needed something more.

“Are we doing a bachelor party? Did you want one?”

“I don’t really care about it. I know Y/n is doing a night in with Pepper, Wanda, Loki, and Natasha. They’re just going to pamper themselves and relax. I’d be okay with doing something low-key like that. Just a night in with some friends.”

Steve nodded. “You, me, Sam, and Thor?”

“Works for me.”

“I’ll let them all know.” Steve moved towards the door to leave. “Any requests for drinks?”

“Just the usual. Let me know where to show up.”

“Will do, Pal.”

Steve left Bucky to finish up his work.

 The week went quickly and the last minute preparations were done for the wedding. Y/n and Bucky had their nights with their friends after the rehearsal dinner. Before they knew it, the day of the wedding had arrived. The morning of, Y/n, Loki, and the girls were all in Y/n’s home getting ready. The ceremony was going to take place on Olympus with all the gods and goddesses in attendance. Bucky and his groomsmen were getting ready at Natasha’s home, which was next to Y/n’s. The wedding was set to be in the early afternoon, with the reception planned to go through the night. Since gods and goddesses didn’t really need much sleep (if at all), they figured they would just party and celebrate with their friends until people decided to do something else. Y/n was feeling nervous all morning.

“What if he changes his mind? I can be a lot,” Y/n said, her leg bouncing with nerves.

“He would never. He loves you too much,” Pepper said, rubbing Y/n’s shoulder.

“He’s completely whipped for you,” Loki interjected. “In a good way, of course.”

Y/n couldn’t stop bouncing her leg. “I need to see him. Nat, I need Bucky.”

Natasha hesitated. “What about the tradition of not seeing the bride before the wedding? Isn’t that bad luck?”

“I never agreed with that tradition. I’ve seen plenty of people see each other before the wedding and had perfectly happy marriages. I don’t even know where that stupid tradition started.”

Pepper spoke up, “It emerged from a time when arranged marriages were commonplace, and was practiced to ensure the groom would go through with the marriage regardless of the bride-to-be's identity or appearance. I don’t think it would apply in this case.”

Y/n threw her hands up. “See? Pepper knows about these things. She’s the goddess of marriage. The tradition wouldn’t even apply to us because Bucky has seen me plenty of times. Nat, I need to see him.”

“Okay. I’ll run and get him.”

Natasha rushed out the door and ran next door. She knocked a few times before the door opened, revealing Steve. He looked at her quizzically.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping the bride get ready?” He leaned against the doorway, his eyebrow quirked up.

“Bride needs to see the groom. She’s kind of freaking out with nerves.”

“She getting cold feet?”

“I think she’s scared of him getting cold feet and needs assurances he still wants her.”

Bucky stuck his head through the doorway. “Why would she think I don’t want to marry her?”

“I think the irrational part of her is taking over. Thoughts of being the jilted lover. She needs you. Come over, please.”

“What about the trad—“ Steve started to ask, but Natasha interrupted him.

“It’s a stupid tradition that wouldn’t apply to you two anyways, since this isn’t an arranged marriage.”

“What?” Bucky and Steve asked together.

“I’ve already lived through this conversation once today. Just get your butt over there and calm her down.” Natasha was getting exasperated. “Your bride needs you.”

Bucky looked at Steve. “Make sure my suit is ready for when I get back.” He made his way out the door. “Let’s go, Nat.”

As soon as Bucky was through the door, Y/n rushed and jumped into his arms. He could feel her heart beating quickly. He tightened his arms around her and moved his mouth close to her ear.

“I’m here, Love.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“For what?” Bucky asked, pulling back.

“Making you come over here.” Y/n still wouldn’t look up.

Bucky put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. “There is nothing to apologize for. Are you okay?”

“I am now. I guess I just got stuck in my head. You sure you wanna marry me?”

“More than ever.” Bucky smiled at her. “I’m so excited to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days with you.”

Bucky started to let go of Y/n but she pulled him back into her. “Not yet. You calm me.”

Bucky tightened his arms around her. “Okay, Love. I got you.”

They stayed holding each other for a few minutes until Natasha, Pepper, Wanda, and Loki came back into the room.

“Alright love birds,” Pepper said, clapping her hands. “Time to break it up. We need to finish getting Y/n ready for the ceremony and Bucky, you need to get dressed yourself.”

Y/n and Bucky reluctantly separated themselves.

“See you at the alter?” Y/n said with a smile.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Love.”

The rest of the morning was spent getting ready for the ceremony. When everyone was ready, they made their way to the park in the center of Olympus. Y/n could barely contain her excitement.

Bucky and his groomsmen were at the altar. Tony, as king of the gods, was presiding. Y/n had decided to walk down the aisle by herself. It took everything in her to not run down the aisle to Bucky.

Steve kept his hand on Bucky’s shoulder to keep in place. Bucky kept trying to move forward to meet her and Steve had to hold him in place. Bucky was in awe of Y/n. Her dress shimmered in the sunlight. When she reached him, Y/n handed her bouquet to Natasha and placed her hand in Bucky’s.

“You put all the stars to shame with your beauty, Love,” Bucky said softly.

“I think I’ve blinded you,” Y/n replied with a light laugh.

Tony smiled at the couple before beginning. “Welcome goddesses and gods. We’re here to witness the marriage between Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, and Hephaestus, God of Metalworking and Fire.”

The rest of the ceremony went in a blur. Y/n and Bucky decided to say their own vows. There was not a dry eye in the crowd. They exchanged rings, with a special one being designed for Bucky’s metal arm that would stay no matter what.

“Alright, now with the exchanging of vows and rings, that means you two are now joined. By the power vested in me by, who else, me, I now declare you married. You may kiss each other, but knowing you two, keep it short. We don’t need a show.”

The crowd laughed and Bucky pulled Y/n into his arms. He dipped her low and gave her a dramatic kiss. Everyone started cheering as they stood up, kissing once more.

“I love you, Husband.”

“I love you, Wife.”

Bucky and Y/n made their way to the reception, where they danced the night away, surrounded by their friends and family. It was the perfect day for both of them.

Tags:

@i-alyssa

#BonkysHalfwayTo1k #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #Hephaestus!Bucky #aphrodite!reader #Goddesses and their gods

[midshipmank]

i wanted LWJ with a motorcycle & somehow ended up with this librarian!LWJ & art student!WWX au

LWJ is a librarian at a public library 

WWX met LWJ when he returned some books 3 months late

LWJ looked at him all judgy like “these are 3 months late,” & WWX promptly became obsessed 

WWX is now a much more responsible library user, mostly because he’s there all the time

but listen he’s not great at focusing in the library, that’s why he doesn’t even use the one on campus. so now he’s his usual amount of restless + distracted by LWJ

trying to figure out how to make a move 

meanwhile LWJ is just like “do not throw crumpled pieces of paper through the air”

some of those crumpled pieces of paper are failed sketches of LWJ

one day WWX stays all the way to closing because LWJ PRETTY OKAY? also he has an art theory paper due pls don’t talk to him about it

so anyway he’s there when the library is closing & LWJ is like “leave”

so he goes :((( but he’s so late LWJ practically follows him out 

which 

is when WWX discovers that that pretty white & blue motorcycle that’s always parked out front?

that’s Lan Wangji’s 

he absolutely loses his mind

all of his friends know about his ridiculous librarian crush by now & they all make fun of him for it

but anyway, the poor boy has it bad

he’s like “A-Cheng, you don’t understand, he could step on me & i’d thank him. actually i think i need him to step on me.” 

JC is like “i did Not want to know that”

meanwhile WWX is bemoaning the fact that he ever became a responsible library user

“how am i supposed to interact with him. i can’t return books late anymore bc i’m always there! what would my excuse be? & he’s already explained how to use their database to me 3 times, i can’t keep looking this dumb” 

JYL is very gently like “maybe just ask him out?” 

“but he doesn’t like me! i committed library crimes! i have to get him to like me first!”

then WWX sees a flyer in the lobby asking for volunteers. there’s gonna be an event in the kids section! for some special reading day! who tf knows, WWX doesn’t care, the point is, he’s good with kids. that would probably be appealing to LWJ. right? right? WWX really doesn’t know. LWJ is so hard to read. on the one hand, he’s the most tight-laced & responsible person WWX has ever met. on the other, he has a very sexy motorcycle. WWX doesn’t know what to do with that

but okay he has a plan

he calls up WQ & goes “can i borrow A-Yuan”

he already babysits A-Yuan every week, so it’s not that weird right?

WQ is like “i stg WWX if you are going to use A-Yuan to attract hot guys like in that movie with the people who love dogs....”

& WWX is like “i would never use A-Yuan like a dog! WQ do you even know me!” 

he gets A-Yuan, barely

anyway, he gets to the library ready to read to a bunch of kids & gets side-eyed by a lot of parents, but he still has fun!!

LWJ is, unfortunately, not the librarian supervising the event, but he is reshelving when WWX is off reading duty & A-Yuan gets the zoomies

ie, zooms right into LWJ’s legs

LWJ is, surprisingly, good with kids. WWX may need to marry him. he somehow manages not to make a complete fool of himself after this revelation

in fact, after this interaction, WWX thinks he may actually have scored some points with LWJ. he’s elated

he’s building all these elaborate future schemes in his head when suddenly he gets a call from Auntie Yu

she wants to know why his grade in his art theory class has plummeted. 

oh right. that class. that class that’s taught by that professor who hates him & that he honestly can’t understand a word of & honestly he hates art theory, he’s good at art, why does he have to take theory too? 

Auntie Yu lets him know in no uncertain terms that if he doesn’t improve his grades by the end of the semester, she will stop supporting him—it’s bad enough that they let him go to art school after he flunked out of his business degree anyway 

so—fuck. fuck. 

WWX throws himself into the redo paper he manages to beg off LQR. he has 3 days & he’s gonna make them count 

the first day goes well, if by well you mean that he raids the art section of the library & works himself until closing & tries desperately not to look like he’s dying in front of LWJ

day 2 goes........similarly, except he falls asleep at his desk & doesn’t wake up until LWJ tells him the library is closing, which? wtf? LWJ usually wakes him up when he falls asleep in the library. WWX has been asleep for hours. 

& also he looks like a wreck, which is not cute

he flees from the library only to find that the bus is going..... going......... gone

fuck. he doesn’t have a car. 

he’s staring down the road after the bus, trying to figure out which friend with a car is available for him to call when he hears someone say “Wei Ying?” behind him

it’s Lan Zhan.

how mortifying. 

he tries to laugh off his situation, but LWJ gets this set expression on his face & says, “i will give you a ride home” 

& WWX is like kinda definitely freaking out because this was not how his first ride on LWJ’s sexy motorcycle was supposed to go. WWX had a plan. he was supposed to be flirtatious & ask LWJ about his bike & then LWJ would offer to give WWX a ride & they’d go all around the scenic parts of the city & when they stopped WWX would be all flustered & breathless & he’d wobble getting off the bike & maybe fall into LWJ & maybe—

okay so his plan was more like a daydream, but at the very least, he wasn’t supposed to look like he’d spent the last 48hrs out of the sun, drinking unhealthy amounts of shitty coffee, wearing a ratty hoodie & art-grimed jeans. like, they’re not even grimey in a cute way

but LWJ is insistent & WWX is weak, so somehow he ends up on the back of the bike wearing LWJ’s helmet with LWJ telling him to hold on tight

he’s half-convinced he’s fallen asleep on the bus stop bench & is dreaming the whole thing

but soon enough, it’s over & they’re stopped outside of WWX’s shitty student accommodations

he gets off & is trying to awkwardly thank LWJ when LWJ says, “you’ve seemed upset these past 2 days”

“ahaha, yeah, i’m just writing a paper”

“for an art theory class?”

WWX is like ????? but then he remembers that LWJ knows what books he checks out 

“yeah. it’s a redo actually. professor Lan hates me.” he forces a laugh. why did he say that. being hated by a professor is not cute, especially not to sexy librarian LWJ. 

“my uncle has high expectations,” LWJ says. 

WWX brain short circuits. 

“your uncle???” shit shit shit Lan Qiren is LWJ’s uncle! LWJ’s uncle hates him! he has no chance now! 

“mn.” 

WWX wants to die

LWJ looks considering, then says, “it is my day off tomorrow. if you would like, i can help you with the paper.”

WWX is already the least cute, most pathetic version of himself he’s ever been in his life. he says yes. 

so they meet up at the library the next day & WWX apologizes profusely for making LWJ come into work when it’s his day off. he promises LWJ endless free coffee from the coffeeshop he works at (even if he has to pay for it himself—he doesn’t tell LWJ that part). 

LWJ is way too nice to him & also manages to explain this school of art theory in a way that?? sort of?? makes sense?? though not in a way that makes WWX like it. but LWJ seems neutral about it, so at least he’s not trying to get WWX to agree with it. 

but anyway, WWX manages to pull a passable paper together & in the process LWJ reveals that he’s noticed WWX sketching in the library a lot more than WWX realized, and that he likes WWX’s art. 

WWX is lightheaded

he stares at LWJ for a while & LWJ looks at him & says, “Wei Ying. you should be typing.” 

WWX gets the paper done by 5pm somehow. somehow! he sends it off to LQR with a groan of relief. he’s so tired his bones are aching, but he looks over at LWJ, art theory & citation king, who of course always looks perfect & beautiful, & goes, “i could kiss you.” 

instead of “i don’t know how i’m ever going to thank you for this,” which is what he thought he was gonna say

LWJ’s eyes widen slightly & his ears go red. WWX wants to smack himself in the face. he wants to eat his words. he wants to crawl into a cramped dark place like a disgusting little mole & never see the sun again.

then LWJ says, “have dinner with me first.” 

WWX gapes at him. LWJ looks back, ears still red but eyes steady. 

“okay,” WWX squeaks. 

they go to dinner. WWX still feels like trash, but they end up having a rousing discussion about art & WWX learns all about when LWJ studied art history in undergrad & how he actually doesn’t like the kind of theory his uncle teaches (“but you’re too good to ever tell him that,” WWX teases. “....most of the time.” WWX laughs in delight.) 

LWJ reveals that he brought an extra helmet today, in case WWX needed a ride again. WWX is embarrassed & pleased & wants to marry LWJ again. feeling foolish, he leans into LWJ flirtatiously & suggests they go for a ride—just for the view. LWJ looks at him so long his knees turn to jelly. then LWJ says, “mn.” 

they make out on some scenic ridge somewhere

the end! 

other things about this au:

WWX does digital painting mostly, his ideal job is illustration/comics; he has a instagram/patreon he uses for art commissions (some of which are pornographic—LWJ catches him sketching in the library one day, early in this tableau. it does not go well.) 

his instagram/patreon is mostly anonymous. it’s not that he minds people knowing he draws explicit stuff sometimes, it’s that he doesn’t want Auntie Yu to find out 

he draws LWJ a lot

not explicitly

(at least not until he’s got a life model and LWJ’s consent)

he’s not at the library 24/7. he has a coffeeshop job, classes, studio time for non-digital art, A-Yuan, and friends. but he’s at the library a lot.

this is undergrad for WWX, but he’s non-trad. he flunked out of a soul-sucking business degree in his first go at undergrad & was on pretty shaky ground with the Jiang family for a while. then he sold some of his art & Auntie Yu said they would support him through art school if it was the only thing he was good at. kinda stung, but at least he doesn’t have to pay tuition.

he’s desperate to prove he can make it as an artist

when anyone asks LWJ about his bike, he says he got it because it allows him to weave around traffic. yes, there’s more to it than that, but no he won’t go into it. (this entire au formed because i found out WYB rides motorcycles professionally & went, “wow that’s hot.” we have no thoughts here.) 

WWX did not have to try to make LWJ like him. LWJ liked him. & while WWX might not have gotten his ideal first bike ride, you better believe LWJ got his. he daydreams about scooping WWX onto his bike & riding off into the sunset

#posting as a bullet point fic bc while i wanna write it as a real oneshot i have other things i need to do & i think it works like this too #mdzs fic #mdzs #cql #wangxian #The Untamed #fanfic #my writing #idk what to tag it's literally been 4yrs since i posted fanfic here #my fanfic #author assumes art theory works similarly to lit theory in that some is great and some is bs #author clearly grew up in the les mis fandom #also has anyone read juliet takes a breath?

[twiststreet]

I'd be curious for more of your thoughts on that Hibbs piece. I've read him for years and often find him insightful, but this one seems very reactionary in a very typical retailer way ("blinkered" was a good word Kim O'Connor used). Particularly, he seems to pretend that Diamond is just fine as is and that DC had no reason to want to switch distribution. I recently swore off DC, but I've noticed since the switch that those comics have been on time at my lcs each week. Diamond, not so much.

Yeah, I don’t really agree with that (I missed whatever Kim said), though I really don’t know what’s going on at a retail level.  I haven’t gone regularly to a comic shop in years.   

(Setting aside the health stuff, which is the most striking thing in there:)  Hibbs is a retailer writing from a retailer perspective, so wishing that he was saying something else”... I mean, we know what we’re signing up for when we read it; we know how to slot it into our own personal worldviews. I’m not to going to complain that Hibbs isn’t going to tell me how long to cook a steak for, or that he’s not yelling that the Direct Market should be dismantled because if those were what I was looking to read, the egg should be on my face for pulling him up to begin with.

The question with Hibbs I think I always have is “how representative is he of retailers generally, as a store in San Francisco.”  (And I think people slightly overstate how non-representative he is because if you hear him talk about his operations, he makes clear he operates differently for different retail audiences, when he had that second store going-- I don’t know if that’s still a thing, but.  And also: I don’t fucking know what it means to be San Francisco anymore because what is that city even...). But generally, you know, you take that data point into consideration but still try to get at what you’ve signed up for, when you read what he says-- where are retailers’ heads at... You know, you go “well if Hibbs is at 8 then even adjusting -2 for factors x y and z, that mean Joe Median-Store might be at 6 and 6 is great / isn’t great, etc.”   

Hibbs has always erred slightly worried, on the spectrum of human reactions, so you know, (even though I personally tend to be drawn to that more than optimism), I’m not sitting here going “I bet DC’s going to license all their characters tomorrow because he says so” because it’s not like the first time I’ve heard that-- though it remains entirely possible, possibly a good idea for the suits (though probably not for anyone else), who even knows.  (Though if you’ve been listening to Rob Liefeld talk on Robservations about Heroes Reborn you’ll already know a significant challenge that would face-- that if they do a trial balloon, the people who already entrenched will do whatever they can to poison the trial balloon so as to make the case for not doing it and remaining entrenched...)(that becomes tougher after multiple waves of layoffs, though).

But what he’s talking about-- DC just did its own Heroes World...? As soon as I heard all that to begin with (and I didn’t pay close attention because the world was happening), my first reaction was “oh shit, Heroes World!”  So a comic retailers saying “this is looking the same after __ months in these specific ways” ... I’m going to pay attention to that.  I just remember how spectacularly unlikely it was that comics cleaned up the mess they’d made of themselves in the 90′s. It was a ridiculously unlikely set of events that turned things around, and I don’t think you can reasonably expect those events to happen again.  (Especially after the “we learned a lesson from the 90′s” part turned out to be a lie, which is something I know I was yelling and screaming about for years and I was getting called like “ungrateful” or something by the Serious Comic Voices of Seriousness for it, there were entire CBR blog posts about how I didn’t understand how great things were now, etc, etc, etc... I don’t think they pull that “we learned not to rip people off” lie again, not this batch of assholes.  Though who knows, maybe....)

I mean, sure there are criticisms of Diamond to be had, of trad retail to be had.  And there’s the giant black box of “how desperate are people right now” that hasn’t been reported on.  There was a time in ‘02-’04 or so  when a book distributor or somebody like that went down, and it almost took out Fantagraphics with it. And this seems worse than that! Where’s the money flowing here and whose debts are getting paid first?  I don’t have any idea.  There’s all these systems in play that have been knocked out by COVID, and who knows who’s owed how much money or how much product is sitting in a warehouse collecting warehouse fees, etc., like this is all a fucking disaster and there’s no reporting on it (comic reporters are too busy encouraging Damon Lindelof to make Watchmen TV shows) and there’s ... DC is a black box in a black box in a black box (he said, having waited for 3 years for DC to answer an easy question once). 

But even if DC had good reason to do whatever it did?  It doesn’t seem to matter much if the rest of the comic market’s built around Diamond and if no one has the health of the Direct Market on its radar.  And DC doesn’t if they fucking fired everyone who understands the health of the Direct Market as even being a fucking concept to begin with, which is extremely likely at this point.  Or ... I don’t know-- it’s the old comic problem of people wanting to argue that “the thing is bad an we need to replace the thing.”  Diamond’s bad and we need to replace it.  Okay.  With what?  And with comics, the answer is usually “moonbeams and hopes and hugs.”  There’s just a lot of wishful thinking out there that a Better Answer just shows up.  I don’t know about that... 

Comic retail’s built around selling Batman. For DC’s moves to be this impactful, that’s a problem at the core of the system.  The undoing was in the origin.  So i get that criticism,  and it’s well taken (except to the extent there’s an entirely speculative argument built around it that either (a) there would be some other system that’d exist but-for and (b) there’d be some flourishing of human creativity but-for). But that’s still a lot of people and a lot of human energy that’s at issue.  And the few life rafts that are out there, you’re not going to get a lot of people on them.  Digital is a joke (according to me, a digital comic publisher! hahaha)-- hibbs if anything overstates the possibilities there because as a retailer, he doesn’t want to bring up that we’re in the Golden Age of Comic Piracy.  (And ... I like being a digital comic publisher!  I’m having fun.  But). And bookstores-- bookstores are great, provided your readership expectation are 10-14 year old girls.  Which might be better for comics if that became the default comic as compared to 35-50 year old bachelors that’s the DM’s bread and butter, but... I think you probably have to be okay with a lot fewer people having gigs.  Bookstores can’t even remotely support the same level of human activity that comic shops can, by the look of things.  (You know at some point you have a larger cultural heat death going on, that’s the part I find interesting, but...)

I don’t know. Hibbs might be to an extreme.  I might be to an extreme.  But having seen people voting for Biden and then going “wait, he’s going to hire racist industry-controlled centrists??  we got nothing for our vote?  we’ve been betrayed!”... having seen people talk about what a great human being George Bush was (I saw a tweet fucking today that was like “George Bush was underrated because he was nice to a trans person once”)... I’ve become very cynical about the human memory or ability to learn lessons.  I don’t think people remember 1995-1999 in comics, and just... how ridiculous it was when that got turned around.  It was like watching them pull off a fucking heist to turn things around last time... Comics are selling-- people are buying comics.  So it’s not as bad as last time.  It’s nowhere close.  But... People overestimate how structured the industry is, and obviously the DC layoffs suggest that the people looking purely at the bottom line don’t understand and didn’t account for the unique levels of institutional knowledge required for the industry... Other media, you don’t hear about hand-selling as much.  When have you ever seen a movie because the guy who owns the theater told you it was good?? Or because you saw the director standing over a flea market table looking like they were about to cry...?  Like... I don’t know.  

I do know for me, I want to start thinking about a next project, and I’ve been looking again at what the Big Hit Books have been these last couple years (I kind of avoided new stuff when I was working on my things) and... You know, part of what changed things in the early 00′s was there were new voices with a new style ready to come in.  Now?  Jesus, I don’t know.  At first blush, everybody’s writing books nearly identically, and it’s just this massive level of bombast and confidence (good for them!) and huge splash pages and hyper-emotional narration and... it all just is this blockbuster schmear that’s very impressive but entirely skippable anyways.  None of it’s as a bezerk or strange or just weirdly interesting to me as 10 seconds of  a Metal Gear Solid video essay... it’s a lot of big splash pages of Thanos or Thanos-for-creator-owned-comics... But it all seems like halls of mirrors-- none of it seems very outward looking... You know, Kojima did halls of mirrors by the 4th game, too, but in Death Stranding, he had like Amazon deliverypeople, and you’d play the game and go “oh shit, this gig economy is making my formaldehyde-baby cry” and like... he had something besides the hall of mirrors to him.  (And I mean, the 4th game is a criticism of the hall of mirrors, according to a video essay I saw, but...).  Or you know, it’s like the thing that Rebuild of Evangelion 3 is criticizing, they’re doing unironically... I don’t know.  It’s weird; the books are weird; I keep wanting to ask like “what should I be reading here” because I’m mostly ignorant besides a Hulk or a Long Con or Sink or ... I never saw the end of Seeds but I thought Seeds had something...

Sorry to ramble.

#Worst Hobby or Worstest Hobby?

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “What Death Tastes Like” Part 3

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 1      Part 2       Part 4       Part 5

You’re done sampling the food that J brought over, quite annoyed he lied about the crepes; it was probably the only reason why you opened the door for him. Or maybe it was a different motive that you don’t like to think of because… what’s the point anyway?

“Crane said he added a new ingredient to your capsules,” The Joker brings it up. “I have no idea how he was able to get Cromyxillium since it’s just in experimental phase; I suppose he has awesome connections,” your guest chews one last bite of cashew salad.

“I know, he texted me but I didn’t answer back… I’m mad at him… I’m mad at everything these days,“ you admit and The King of Gotham piles up the empty styrofoam boxes, calculating how much money Scarecrow spent on a product that might be able to improve your condition.

Y/N watches him absent minded, too preoccupied with her problems to realize The King of Gotham is attentive to her words.

“I used to help my dad develop my remedy, still nothing works and he entirely immersed himself in this ridiculous task of saving me from terminal cancer. He ignored Evelyn for weeks until she left: she understood what he was doing up to a certain level; when it became an obsession…” and you sigh, aggravated by your father’s stubbornness. “I told him he has to patch up their relationship; I don’t him to be all alone after I’m gone…” you sulk and J grabs the containers, dumping them in the trashcan near the table.

“Yeah, Crane will probably be very lonely without you…” and J stops his innuendo when he comprehends how it sounds. “On a positive note,” The Clown Prince of Crime stretches, “I’m actually here to ensure you’re ok taking the capsules containing the new ingredient. Your father asked me to and I am notorious for being this…this selfless person ready to offer my services,” J over exaggerates his ability to sympathize with your situation. “He also warned me not to try anything funny. I don’t understand why I’m not allowed to share any of my funny jokes; doesn’t make any sense,” the distorted interpretation of your parent’s threat almost prompts Y/N’s smile.

“You probably pushed for this visit, taking advantage of the fact that me and my dad had a fight, hm?” you bluntly describe the truth and J can’t defend his absurd statements because your cell phone starts ringing; you glare at the screen, debating if you should answer or not.

“Is that him?” The Joker inquires and you nod a yes while deciding to accept Scarecrow’s call.

“Hello…” you sneak out on the patio as J figures he should walk to his car in order to retrieve the duffel bag fixed in advance for his sleepover.

*****************

Your conversation lasted for about 20 minutes thus The Joker jumped in the shower lacking any type of permission from Y/N; perhaps it could be the reason for your abrupt intrusion in the cozy bathroom.

“Can I take a shower with you?” he hears your question and for once J is uncertain of his reply, yet he is not the kind of person to show reluctance no matter the context.

“It’s your place, isn’t it?” he grumbles and distinguishes your silhouette beyond the steamy glass panels quickly stripping your clothes.

The Joker continues to scrub his skin, undisturbed by your request: he simply doesn’t care if you join him or not.

“I’m using your stuff,” J announces and your arms suddenly hug him from behind.

“You can use whatever you want,” your lips kiss the dragon tattoo on his back a couple of times and he doesn’t even turn around to peek.

“I gotta wash my hair,” he mutters and you brush your lips against his shoulder, sweetly offering:

“I can wash it for you.”

“I got it!” Y/N’s demand is cut off immediately; you’re so humiliated by his lack of interest you curse the dumb choice of being so straightforward: it’s not the first time he shows zero attraction towards his daughter’s best friend.

Your arms release the embrace and The Joker reprises his important chore while hearing you fumbling with toiletry items: you are finishing off your routine at an increased speed, willing to exit out of there as soon as possible.

A few minutes of silence, then The Clown Prince of Crime finally pronounces an insolent remark:

“I hope you saw a naked man before, Y/N! I don’t wanna be accused of traumatizing you. If it really makes you feel better, you can wash my hair.”

No smarty pants attitude rendered upon him and J gazes where you stood only to notice you’re gone: after quietly tiptoeing out of the shower, Y/N took her medications and prepared for the night ahead; she plans for J to sleep in the second bedroom at the small cabin, thus she will spend the night on the couch in the living room, watching TV until she’ll doze off.

“Miss Crane,” The Joker emerges from the bathroom in a t-shirt and shorts. “Are we cuddling on that couch or do we have further arrangements?”

“Spare bedroom,” you grouchily mumble, getting comfortable under the blanket.

“I thought we’re cuddling buddies,” he pretends to be offended at your affirmation mostly since pushing the limit is encoded in his wretched DNA.

“We’re not cuddling buddies!”  

“My bad,” he grins. “I guess I was misled by your actions at the mansion.”

He has such a nerve bringing that up!

“I’m not the type of person to force myself on women,” The Joker innocently informs, “but can I watch TV with you? I’ll camp on the floor by the sofa which is my way to hint I need a bunch of soft blankets to pile up so I won’t break my back. I mean, it’s not very nice of you to deny me access on the couch; must I remind you I granted you free passage in my bed when you asked for it?”

“Are you for reals?!” an increasingly fuming Y/N shrieks slowly rolls out of her relaxing nest. “You were horrible to me and then tried to make it better just because you worried I’d tell Emma or my father! Well, rest assured: I’m not a snitch! You truly don’t have to extend your good will to such lengths on my account! It’s not necessary, ok?! You don’t have to drive here to bring my capsules, you don’t have to bring me food. You don’t have to do anything!!”

“Watch your tone!” J growls, displeased with your feisty attitude. “Do I have to remind you who barged into my privacy to take a peek at me naked?”

Your eyes are big at his derogatory insinuation: he’s playing stupid regarding the incident.

“I barged into your privacy?!” you shout, aggravated. “How can…”

“Umm…” The Joker interrupts, “…your nose is bleeding.”

You didn’t even detect the blood trickling down your skin and you touch it, confused. The King of Gotham watches you a few hesitant steps before you unexpectedly collapse to the ground. “Hey!” his voice echoes in and out. “Hey what’s wrong?... … Can you hear me?”

There’s this high pitch taking over your mind and you can barely discern bits and pieces of a conversation J is carrying with your father. You’re not even aware you’re in a moving vehicle, that’s how much you lost grip on reality.

“What’s in for me if I bring her over, huh?”

“I compensated you!!  Two Nightmare ampoules, a small fortune on the black market! Get off your fucking high horse and bring me my daughter, would you?!” an exasperated parent admonishes.

“Maybe I will stop the car and let nature follow its course,” The Joker fights back Scarecrow’s affront, yet your dad has plenty on his plate .

“If you do such a thing and she dies, I’ll hold you responsible and trust me when I say you don’t want me to hold you responsible!!!” the serious ultimatum prompts your chauffeur to take a sharp turn on Highway 68. “Am I on speaker?” Jonathan checks without given his apparent opponent a chance to rationalize his behavior.

“Yes!” J snarls, pissed at the stupid rescue mission entrusted to him.

“Y/N, hang in there! I’ll get stuff ready by the time you arrive, alright?” Scarecrow encourages his daughter, afraid of the severe consequences of the experimental drug she ingested.  

“Mmmm,” you moan in your daze, not being able to respond.

“Keep her alert; we can’t have her sink into a coma! I have to formulate an IV mixture to flush the Cromyxillium out of her system!”

“She’s completely out!” The Joker states although there’s nobody at the other end of the line anymore. “Who’s we anyway?!” he huffs and elects to give it a go regardless. “Y/N, how many kids we would have had if we were married?... … … … … I think the precise answer is at least 4, am I correct?” J blabbers on since you don’t engage in the conversation. “Great…I’ll be held liable for your demise,” he bites his lower lip, vexed things didn’t shine too bright for him; in fact, no matter how hard The Clown tries the blame it on somebody else, he dug his own hole on this one.

****************

You’re not sure how long you’ve been in the darkness, but the sharp poke in your arm makes you groan in pain.

“I’m sorry honey,” your father whispers. “We have to keep the IV for an hour, then I can take the needle out.”

“D-daddy…” you find the strength to stammer. “Am I… am I dying…?”

“No… No… I won’t let you die…” Scarecrow kisses your forehead, upset you don’t seem fine at all. “It’s my fault, I didn’t think you’ll have a reaction to Cromyxillium, not the way I bound the particles with the rest of the molecules.”

“You didn’t test it?” The Joker intervenes into a dialogue he should steer clear off.

“No, I didn’t have time to test it!” Jonathan hatefully stares at the man he wishes to strangle on the spot. “I don’t have time for anything!! Do you understand? My daughter is dying!! I’m not even that kind of doctor yet she’s breathing nevertheless due to my capability of manipulating compounds! Y/N would be 6 feet under with traditional chemotherapy, which proves I am doing a few things right!!! If Emma was sick, I’m certain you wouldn’t run your mouth like you do now!”

J wiggles in his chair, definitely about to erupt at Crane’s justified tirade.

“I’m so cold…” you utter, the ruckus adding to your general discomfort.

“That’s normal, it means the intravenous remedy is working; I’ll bring more covers,” Jonathan strolls out of the room only to gasp upon his return: J is snuggling with you, totally oblivious to your parent’s stupefied question: “What the hell are you doing??!!”

“I got off my high horse and I’m keeping her warm,” J stresses the importance of his random deed. “It’s not cheap thought! I demand…”

“You demand nothing!” Scarecrow covers you with more layers, irritated The King of Gotham has the audacity to milk out benefits in these circumstances; the latest wants to protest Jonathan’s vehement denial while not being conceded the prospect of such luxury:

“Dad…” you reach out your left hand and he sits by you, keeping the shaky fingers on his face. “Did… did you call Evelyn?” you barely blink, exhausted from the intensive treatment.

“I will…”

“You have to; I don’t want you to end up alone… She loves you… You could have more children with her… or at least one more…”

Jonathan Crane inhales, flustered his daughter is worried about him when she should worry about herself.

“I could have more kids, but don’t you know you’re irreplaceable?” he kisses your wrist and pretends to brush off the agony building up in his heart. “Don’t cry honey,” he wipes your tears, then casually shoves The Joker’s arm since is wrapped around your waist. “Your help is no longer required,” Scarecrow hints and his advice falls on deaf ears: J has important news that might switch the balance in his favor.

“I also called Emma on my way here to report about Y/N’s ordeal; she’s cutting her trip to New York short and I received strict orders to make myself useful until her arrival. Now, unless you want to deal with another pain in the ass besides your offspring, I suggest you tolerate my presence!”

Jonathan curls up in a ball on the vacant side of your bed, relieved to see you’re napping. "I didn’t feel the urge to punch someone in ages!” he sneers.

“Likewise!” The Joker barks too from behind your shoulder. “How come she passed out again?” he switches the subject and Jonathan explains without any trace of enthusiasm.

“I included a serum that promotes nice dreams in her IV bag: she’ll be in a deep sleep and envision things she likes.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. I’m sure I’ll pop up in there then,” the excited Clown Prince of Crime emphasizes to your father’s disapproval.

“I said things she likes!”

**************

10:12am

“Hello Miss Crane,” you are greeted as you narrowly open your eyes; it takes a minute to recollect from the dizziness and confusion of last night’s episode.

“Where’s my dad?” you lick your dry lips, noticing J by the windows.

“At the lab; he’s consulting with some doctors or whatnot and left me in charge,” he effortlessly forges half a truth with half a lie.

“Where’s my phone? I want to talk to him.”

“I think I left it at the cabin, I was in a hurry to get you here.”

“You drove me?...” you skeptically interrogate.

“Yeah, you don’t remember?”

“No…” you stretch while touching the band aid placed where the needle used to be. “Where’s Emma?”

“On her way back to Gotham; she called several times and tried talking to you but you were out.”

“Was I?...”

“U-hum,” J shakes his head. “I reckon she promised she’ll assist with your birthday party next week and she’s terrified you’ll kick the bucket in the meantime. She didn’t precisely articulate these sentences, but I‘m her dad: I can read in between the lines,” the proud Joker blurs out, loving the shocked look you display. “Am I invited to the celebration?”

You signal a no and he’s not discouraged by your vehement denial.

“Can I bring Mara?”

“Absolutely not!!!”

“Oh, so I’m actually invited but not her?”

He takes advantage of the speechless Y/N, setting up the stage for his own benefit:

“I can work with that,” he glares at you, gratified. “However, I can’t show at a party without a date; it’s not dignifying for a man of my social status. This leaves us with only one solution.”

“NO!” you protest because you can estimate his proposal.

“Cool, then we have a deal Miss Crane: you got yourself a date!”

“I already have a date!”

“Who?”  The Joker smirks. 

“Sam is my date for my birthday.”

“Sam as in Bane’s son?”

“Yes,” you squirm under the blankets, uneasy at the concept of having J as partner for the upcoming bash.

“Pfft,” he huffs. “That’s a huuuge load of baloney,” your own words from last night are used by the obnoxious green haired menace. “I’ll pick you up Wednesday at 3pm, ok?”

“The party is here at my house!”

“Ok, then you pick me up at 3pm.”

“I’m not picking you up!” you scoff at his nonsense.

“Damn, you’re hard to negotiate with,” The Joker scratches his chin. “Fine, I’ll bring myself here.”

You contemptuously stare at him, appalled he keeps on insisting when you declined his plan. On top of everything, the whole universe is getting the confirmation today that Jonathan Crane’s genius is frankly skipping a generation since you enunciate:

“Don’t be late!”

Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me ON Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #the joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #the joker #jokerleto #joker #joker fanfiction #joker imagines #joker jared leto #joker suicide squad #joker x reader #dcu #mister j #Mistah J #dc #Jonathan Crane #jonathan crane x reader

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 152

Chapter Summary - Danielle says goodbye to her grandmother and Tom learns more about her from the experience

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

A concertina is like a small accordion.

The Willie Clancy is a huge deal in Irish traditional music and takes place every year in Miltown Malbay, Co Clare.

Bangor is in County Down and contrary to the belief that the Troubles are based solely on religion, they are far more complex than that and are more predominantly based on political beliefs, those who see themselves as part of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (Unionists) and those who see themselves as Irish (Nationalists). Bangor is 72%, Unionist.

The Falls (in Belfast) and the Bogside (Armagh) are staunchly Nationalist, and I mean 100% nationalist. You would not be harmed these days going to them if you are British or Unionist, you would just not feel in any way welcome.

The Parting Glass, as explained, is a traditional song recently covered by Ed Sheeran.

As an Irish person in Britain, I have to say I have experienced some acts of racism, but I live in a depressed town with high unemployment and little understanding, so it is par for the course.

As D-day for Brexit approaches, a "no deal" scenario keeps cropping up and with no idea what that means for non-national people in Britain, fears like those Danielle references are becoming more worrisome.

Copyright for the photo is the owners, not mine. All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1 @black-ninja-blade

Tom sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. He inhaled deeply and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was tired but he knew he had to be there for Danielle who was far more tired than he was.

Danielle had flown back from the US from an important meeting with the rest of the Safeguard group and had gone for a shower when her phone rang. Seeing it was an Irish number, Tom answered in case it was important. He took in everything the woman on the phone said on him revealing after that Danielle was in the shower. When she came back downstairs, slightly tired but in good humour, she noted Tom's face immediately and waited worriedly for him to tell her what was to be worried about.

“Tom?”

“When you were in the shower, a hospital called. It's your grandmother.”

That led to them being in the city of Cork where Danielle and a few of her family were waiting for the inevitable. There was little hope for Sheila, she was very much deteriorating in health.

Danielle was exhausted but she continued to be there for whatever member of her mother's family needed her. Tom tried to help but to be honest, there was little he understood of what her aunts said with their strong accents and their tendency to use Irish thrown in a lot of the time.

“Elle, love, you need to get some sleep.” Tom urged, seeing Danielle lean back against the wall, clearly exhausted.

“I will, in a bit.” She sighed.

“Elle, you have not even eaten today.”

“I am fine.”

“You need to eat. I am going to be the stubborn partner and insist you get something to eat.” He smiled.

Danielle huffed a small laugh. “Yes, boss.” She pushed off from the wall to go to the shopping centre across the road to get something to eat when a beeping came from the intensive care unit and a crash team rushed through the halls. Danielle looked at her aunt who walked out of the room looking worried. “She…Danielle, what's this?”

Danielle looked at the paper in her hand. “It's a DNR, a 'do not resuscitate' form. it translates as to leave her to pass away rather than prolong the situation really.” She explained. "It means when she goes downhill, just to make sure she is comfortable and allow her to go peacefully."

Her cousin, a nurse at the hospital walked over to her mother. “Mam…it's really for the best.”

Danielle's aunt inhaled deeply before nodding her head. “Okay.” As the eldest, she had the greatest say, so she signed the page.

Danielle gave a slight nod in agreement with the decision before going to her aunt. “We are just going to get something in the shop, do you need anything?” She smiled.

“You're grand, Danielle, Pet. We'll call you if anything changes.” Her aunt gave a tired smile. “Have you even had some time away from here?”

“Plenty of time for that at a later date. If it's alright, I may go back to the hotel for a shower.”

“Alright, we'll see you later so.” Catherine stated before going to find a doctor to give the form to.

Danielle could barely recall the journey back to the hotel and crashed as soon as she hit the bed. Tom ordered some food and urged her to eat after a while. With a shower to attempt to wake her again, Danielle ate and made her way back to the hospital, deciding to walk the short distance in the nice weather, Tom, who felt she needed more rest walking beside her.

“Are you okay?” He asked as they walked.

“Yeah, I mean, I'm not stupid. She's been going downhill for a while, I just... it's sad. I don't really know my Mam's side of the family so with Nan about to leave us, I feel like I have even less of a tie to home now.” She explained. “I suppose in one respect it's okay because I am building my life in England, but…”

“Home is home.” Tom added. “A lot of actors have left Britain and indeed Ireland and other countries to go to the States for work and they say it too. You build a life elsewhere, but you are from where you're from and holding onto home is a big thing. I feel it when I am away but it's the reason I love living in London, I am from England and I am fortunate enough to live there.”

“Do you remember when we met Lucas for lunch and he asked about Brexit?” Tom nodded that yes, he recalled such. “Do you ever think about it? I mean, I get occasional racist comments about being Irish, if they get worse or if the government decide to fuck out all non-nationals, I am not sure where that leaves anything.”

“Is that why you have not been willing to go look at houses recently?” Tom asked, noting of late that Danielle was not the least bit interested in continuing their house hunt.

“Well, it's scary investing in a second home there if all that is going to happen is I will be forced to sell soon.”

“You're in England with nearly a decade, I cannot see this going that badly, but if it does, you're so long in Britain, you could not possibly be forced to leave.”

“It's just worrying. I want us to know that if we do this together, it is not going to be a waste of our time. I want whatever we get to be the house we want, the one we still love in a decade.” She looked at him and smiled.

Tom smiled back at her and took her hand in his before kissing it. When he went to leave go again, she gently tightened her grip, telling him she wanted to keep the contact. Both enjoying the anonymity of the city none would expect to see them in.

*

It was the next day when the DNR form Catherine signed became relevant. After a goodbye and a kiss on the cheek to her grandmother, Danielle said goodbye to Sheila for the last time. She stood stoically next to Tom as the doctors walked out of the ICU with Catherine and Margaret, another of Danielle's aunts and gave their condolences to the family. Tom stayed beside Danielle, letting her know he was there for her. He had sadly lost his grandparents, so he knew the sensation, but the words she said on the road from the hotel resonated with him, she was losing her ties to Ireland and in many respects, Tom felt saddened for her, for very obvious reasons but part of him also hoped that Brexit would not chase her way as it was doing other Irish people.

The funeral was small, they went to West Cork to the small parish that her grandmother was from for the funeral, which he noticed was all done in Irish, Danielle reading a piece from the altar for part of it, Tom fascinated by the manner in which she spoke, her voice sounding entirely different in Irish. The whole affair was quiet, until after the meal in the hotel close by, after that, he was slightly startled by the show of music that took place. He looked to Danielle for an explanation.

“Nan was mad into music, so naturally, we remember her this way.” She smiled sadly.

“What's that little accordion?” He pointed to the instrument he had seen a few occasions before in lock-ins but did not know the name of.

“A concertina.”

“How old is that girl?” He asked in shock at the young child playing the instrument diligently.

“She is nine, she's been reared with music in the house and been taking lessons since she was four, her father is a huge trad man, goes to the Willie Clancy in Clare every year.” Tom gave her a confused look. “It's a trad festival, a week-long, with trad groups from all over Ireland go and just play together in one town in Clare, it's a big deal.” She smiled. “Mam would make sure we were there every year without fail, it was one way to guarantee she'd see her lot for a few days, Dad would just be happy in a corner with his whiskey and a good song.”

Tom smiled at the fondness Danielle had for her old family occasions. She clearly spent time with her cousins as a child as he had his, but again, the words she had regarding not having much by way of family ties to Ireland came to him.

For the most part of the evening, they sat in a corner, listening to the music and occasionally talking to family or old friends of her grandmother and grandfather that recognised “Bridget's girl”. Many got curious as to the English fellow she had and more than one checked was there Scottish in him, to Tom's surprise, that seemed acceptable to the majority of them and apparently negated a lot of his English-ness.

One man made it very clear he was less than fond of Sheila and Daniel O'Brien's granddaughter being with a British man. But Catherine shooed him off and informed him Sheila had met and adored Tom, talking fondly of the lovely man her Danielle had brought over to meet her from England, informing one and all Sheila's thoughts of him. It was the only time Tom really felt a moment of uncertainty and a tad unwelcome in the whole situation, he wondered if Danielle ever felt similar; the manner in which she rubbed his hand when Catherine defended him made him think it was something she knew something of.

When the evening turned to night and the celebration of the life of Sheila began to come to a close, Tom was startled when the final song was requested of Danielle, who to his utter shock, sung a song he had heard before but listening to the words, he realised were sadly poignant to the saying of goodbyes.

They were staying in the hotel the afters of the funeral were in, so with goodbyes to her family, he and Danielle went upstairs to their room. Inside, Danielle sighed and took off the clothes she had borrowed from a cousin for the funeral. Tom had hired a suit from a tailor not too far away, so he tidied it into the wardrobe for the night for them to return before their flight the next day.

“I am sorry about Sean Daly.”

“Who?”

“The fella that was not quiet of his dislike of Brits.”

“I was in Bangor for a while, I think it is safe to say, I have been in more hostile company.”

Danielle laughed. “Tom, Love, I hate to break it to you, but Bangor is fairly Unionist and Protestant, so you were under little to no threat there. If you said it was the Falls or the Bogside, I'd sympathise, but Bangor is fairly safe. So is Cork, but still. I know it's never pleasant to have people be so averse to you for no reason. I know I joke and comment on the whole Irish and British thing, but still, it's not nice when people say so aggressively.”

“Do you get it often?” Tom asked curiously.

“Not in London, it is more tolerant and multicultural but on some sets in more remote areas, comments occur, yes.”

Tom said nothing for a short time before getting into the bed, Danielle quickly following after and curling up against him. “Elle?”

“Mmhmm?”

“I didn't know you could sing.”

“I'd hardly call it singing.”

“But what was that tonight?”

“Mam and Nan loved me singing that song as a child and there is no way you decline a wish of the deceased. I sang it at Mam and Dad's funerals and she told me to sing it at hers, I couldn't decline.” She explained.

“Well, I have to say, I am somewhat startled, I never knew it. What is that song?”

“The Parting Glass, an old folk song, made more famous by being in an Assassin's Creed game and I am fairly sure Ed Sheeran covered it.”

“You sound different when you speak Irish and sing, your accent is stronger.”

“You're making me self conscious now.” She admonished before toying with some of his chest hair. “Thank you, Tom. For being here for all of this.”

Tom frowned at her. “Elle, I would be nowhere else, you silly woman.” He dismissed. “I am here for you Elle, no matter what.” He kissed her head. “I love you.” She just continued to lean against him and say nothing as she processed the act of burying her grandmother, a woman she always loved dearly and admired.

#i hate you i love you #chapter 152 #wolfpawn #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic

[bubbletimestories]

Once upon a cruel winter (Vampire!Bucky/Reader)

Summary: James "Bucky" Barnes intends to ask for the hand of his childhood friend, Reader. To be worthy, he must leave for a while, but promises to return soon. When love makes you impatient, blood always flows and a quiet love story can become a tragedy. Fortunately, time heals wounds and you sometimes have to accept putting yourself in danger to taste real happiness.

Warnings: blood, death (?), sadness, happy ending

Themes:  love, vampire, memories, new life, proposal

A/N. Translated with Google trad ^^’

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25338478 (eng)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25338385 (fr)

*******************************************************************************

1904. Germany.

Tossed on all sides on the paved path, you hang on to your hat, trying not to gasp too much. This car of doom is likely to cost you your life by backfiring, spitting thick black smoke at anyone who dares to be behind. Absolutely not embarrassed, the driver gives you an amused smile while slowing down to park, removing his thick protective glasses with the proud air of the one who adores his machine.

- So what do you think? It looks good, doesn't it? - Bucky…

Before his delighted look, you dare not tell him how much you hated this short trip. Truth be told, you don't need it, your greenish complexion from being so shaken speaks for itself and your friend apologizes flatly when he stops the car.

"Okay, it needs some repairs, but I assure you that in a while you will feel like you are on a cloud. "

The young man opens the door for you and reaches out to help you down, his hands firmly on the sides of your waist to lift you up with ease. Maybe it was growing up on a farm but he never seems to be pained to carry you and yet you are not a twig. As always, the same blush passes over your cheeks as your body slides against his to reach land. You've known each other for years, but you both understand that something stronger than a simple friendship now binds you. You're dying to touch his lips with yours, to regain his warmth but on the sidewalk, in the middle of passersby, it would not be appropriate. The city streets offer no discretion compared to hay bales.

- Miss Y/N… - Mr. Barnes…

James offers his arm to lead you through the park, adjusting his hat with one hand and continuing to smile. He can't help but be happy in your company, even if the subject he needs to address is not easy. As you take a leisurely stroll amidst well-kept lawns, he starts:

- Y/N… you and I have known each other almost since our birth. I could not imagine a better friend and I would entrust my life to you. - I... me too, James. There is no one I trust more.

You’re worried about your companion’s serious tone, but you cannot tell if the lump in your stomach is apprehensive or aroused. When the young man takes your hand, your heart misses a beat and you hold your breath, unsure of what he is trying to say to you. Caressing your fingers that he knows stained with paint through the fine white fabric, James searches his words carefully. This moment had to come, you both have thought more than once but it all suddenly becomes real. Blue eyes avoid you for a moment before James regains courage and decides to look at you, straightening up with almost solemn seriousness even if his features still express the same warmth.

- We are still young and I know you have no plans yet to start a home or become a housewife but... Y/N, I would like to ask for your hand. - Bucky…

You miss the words, as well as the breath, and you half sag against your friend by not daring to believe what you hear. You’ve dreamed that he’s been asking you for a while now and there he’s, announcing very seriously that he intends to marry you. This is a dream. However, you sense that there is something else and you dare not let your joy burst, not right now. Besides, James continues hugging you, guiding your steps to a bench where he makes you sit.

"I love you, Y/N, more than anything in the world and I want to marry you but I want to do that in the rules. Before making you my wife, I want to show that I am worthy of you, so I'm going to leave for a while in the East to help my father and complete a project that should save us from need. If this trip goes as I wish, I could stand in front of your mother with my head held high and ask for your hand. "

Kneeling before you, the young man watches the emotions pass over your face: surprise, joy, confusion, sadness. You hardly have time to rejoice that already he announces his departure and you cannot change anything. Even if you understand his motives well, the idea that he can leave you for an indefinite time bother you and you bite your lip while looking down. Bucky gently slides your glove to expose your left hand and slip a simple ring on top of it with a finely cut stone. The ring seems very cold compared to the heat of his fingers but it shines like the eyes of your lover and you smile.

"Okay ... I understand, you have to go. But promise me to write often and come back as soon as possible. "

Without paying attention to curious or shocked looks, you hug each other and let James drop a brief kiss on your lips, chaste but full of promise for the future, your future. It is promised, he will send you a letter every day if he can and he will make sure that he does not leave for more than a month, maybe two. The next day, he packs his bags for the East, leaving you behind, alone and impatient. Unable to show your ring or speak to your mother about your promise, you occupy your time as best as you can, scribbling sketch on sketch, watching for a new letter from your lover every day. Unfortunately, despite all your good will, impatience is gradually starting to gnaw at you and you slip into your missives how much you miss your friend. How to blame you, you are young, secretly engaged. Finally, several weeks after your separation, you decide to leave to join him or at least, to get closer to him. Without notifying anyone, you leave your small room and go on an adventure, your heart pounding. You briefly warned him of your arrival and even made an appointment with him after dark in a small wood nearby. This project is totally crazy but so romantic and you can't wait to find the one who never leaves your thoughts.

How can I describe the mixture of shock and joy that seizes James by reading your last letter, learning that you set out on your own on the roads to see him. Impatient but above all worried, he shows up an hour early, fearing he'll never see you arrive, thinking of all the dangers a young girl can run alone. Fortunately, you arrive safely and throw yourself into his arms laughing, letting him spin around and kiss you until you both run out of breath.

- You are totally crazy for coming here! - I wanted to see you, I missed you too much. - Tomorrow, I’ll put you on the first train, your mother must be mad with anxiety.

You’ll probably be scolded like never before but for now, you don’t really care, too happy to be with Bucky. You hug against him with a sigh of comfort, letting him guide you on a night stroll. The young man thinks that he will have to give you his bed tonight, that he will have to wake up early to get on the first train, but he is above all lost in happiness. You risked everything to join him, what better proof of love could you offer him? You chat happily, your bodies glued together and sharing the same heat. He tells you that his project is progressing well and that he will soon be back in town to ask you to marry properly, you will finally be able to unite before God.

A sardonic laugh resounds between the trees, as if the wind itself was making fun of you at night. In the shadows, two sparkling red eyes are watching you, the creature licking its drooling lips. A cloud passes over the silver moon, obscuring the landscape in shadow. It doesn't take more for the hungry being to pounce on you with a sadistic growl because it is not so much a rabid beast than a terror-thirsty monster. What could be better than a lovely couple to feed on? The long, sharp nails close on your dress, tearing it apart making you fall to drag you on the floor. The abomination hesitates, should it first open your throat or shred your lover? The prospect of your blood spilling excites it and a groan of anticipation escapes from its throat as it hits James hard in the face. Maybe cutting off his hocks will prevent him from joining you or running away and then the vampire can eat you two for a long time, all night long.

A piece of wood explodes against the back of the monster which turns in your direction, contemplating for a brief moment your face reddened by cold and anger while you are still holding the end of a log. With no weapons at hand, you did your best to divert the creature's attention and save your lover, how adorable. Right, you will be the first to shed your blood. The heavy body of the beast crashes on you while the agile fingers undo the buttons of your collar with excruciating care, too meticulous compared to the violence of its attack. The vampire exposes your throat, wondering if biting your breast would not be fun. A gunshot rings out, the ball crossing the creature's shoulder before it has time to make its decision. A furious hiss slides between the teeth of the vampire who straightens up to turn to its attacker. The barrel still smoking, Bucky keeps his revolver raised. He may not be able to give you much time, but he intends to protect you from this filthy being.

"Run Y/N ... Run without stopping"

He can't give you a gun, you'll have to be quick and he has to distract the monster long enough. James silently addresses a prayer before shooting a second time, aiming at the pale and grimacing creature's skull. Your lover's voice immediately triggers your survival instinct and you run away without turning around, running as fast as you can until your throat and muscles are on fire, until your eyes are clouded with tears and you collapse in an inn screaming like a lunatic that you have to save your fiancé. People lift you, rub you, put you to bed, whispering that it is too dark to try anything. Desperate, you get agitated and delirious until someone make you drink a mixture plunging you into a dreamless sleep. In the early morning, the villagers organize a hunt to find your lover, but they quickly realize that you have been attacked by a pack of wolves. Besides, there is no trace of your alleged attacker. On the other hand, they discover in the forest bullet impacts and, bathing in a pool of blood, a human arm.

*** Ten years. Ten years have passed since that terrible night, since you lost your loved one. You lived the next morning as in a fog, your awakening at the inn, the announcement of the macabre discovery, your mother who takes you in her arms when you get off the train. Officially, you were the victim of a wolf and you do not have the strength to deny this version, who would believe you? After these events, you closed in on yourself while the whole city was gradually aware of the tragedy. Poor child, what a misfortune ... And then people moved on, life resumed its course around you. Ten years ... and you still haven't forgotten him. Despite your mother's insistent requests, despite the numerous visits from suitors, you still and always refuse to marry or even take off the modest ring that cruelly reminds you of what you have lost. Part of you died in the woods that night and you don't intend to replace it.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay here? The park offers very beautiful landscapes and I will be bored without my dear little girl..."

You shake your head gently while kissing your mother's cheek, you do not intend to reverse your decision. It’s time for you to get some fresh air, to get away. It’s an almost vital need. So you get on the train, your equipment carefully stored in a small suitcase. Far from it all, you hope to be able to rest your mind, to drown in nature by painting canvas on canvas in the middle of the meadows. The little village where you have chosen to spend some time is very pretty and thinking that no one knows you here immediately brings you a feeling of relief. Without waiting, you get to work, setting up your easel to get lost in your thoughts and what should only last a few days stretches into weeks. Obviously, some people start to wonder about the young woman who never says anything and spends her days painting or drawing but people are too polite to ask you questions. Every day, it's the same ritual: you get up at dawn, have a light breakfast and go out into the countryside to let your brushes express themselves. At sunset, you can be seen walking around and after dark, you go back to bed to cry silently on your pillow.

This day is no exception and you take the time to clean your palette before letting your legs carry you without worrying about where they take you. The days are getting shorter and the night is falling faster and faster but you don't care, deep in thought as usual. However, you walk so much and so far that you have to face the facts: you got lost. Quietly, you try to retrace your steps but the landscapes are all alike and darkness settles in little by little without you having found the village. Arms wrapped around you, you shiver in your dress and walk at random, watching for a light on the horizon. Unwittingly, the images of the famous night come back to you, the shadows, the blood-red eyes but also the features drawn from your mother's anxiety when seeing her runaway girl pale, the dress in tatters. It would be a shame if you died when she took so long to accept that you do this journey.

In the ambient darkness, past and present mix, so much that you think you can see the sparkling pupils again, observing you between two bushes. But that can't be true, it's just a mirage of your mind that you don't even pay attention to. That’s why it’s such a shock to feel like you’re being brutally pushed back. You remain frozen as a cold hand closes on your wrist, a weight pressing your body against the ground. Someone or something has settled on you and behind the long curtain of his tangled hair, the being is watching you with a look of pure madness. These eyes reflect only one thought: hunger, a terrible, destructive hunger. But you also recognize something else in the blue of the pupils. A ray of moonlight briefly illuminates the face of your attacker, bringing out the salience of his jaw, the pallor of his skin, the sharpness of his teeth.

"Bucky …?"

The vampire raises your wrist and plunges his canines into it without fear of tearing your fragile flesh, violently sucking your life flowing down his chin in a scarlet net. The pain is invading your brain but the fear is struggling to clear a path, it's too much shock, you can't believe it. Your mouth articulates supplications to which the one you love remains deaf, devouring you greedily without even a glance. Finally, you lose consciousness, sinking into thick icy fog like winter.

***

What is under your body is damp and unpleasantly cold as if someone had forgotten himself in rough sheets. The pulp of your fingers feels the texture of the fabric, you may be on a bed or a sofa. To tell the truth, whatever, you can't really think because your body burns and makes you suffer. Unable to open your eyes, you painfully try to move, exhaling a complaint in the dark. The memories do not come back to you, it is not time yet, you must already become aware of your body which is only a blaze for the moment. Your groan does not go unnoticed and a firm hand raises you with all possible delicacy, before pressing against your lips the hard edge of a bowl.

" Drink "

Without thinking, you obey the injunction and open your mouth, letting a ferrous liquid run against your tongue, drinking more and more impatiently as the pain in your limbs decreases. The drink is taken away too quickly, but at least you’re now able to open your eyes. Although it is pitch dark, you can make out the outline of a bed, of a dilapidated cabin whose pierced roof still drips from recent rain. Kneeling beside you, someone steps back as he puts the bowl down, marking a distance between you as if he were afraid. Unless it is you who should fear him because you recognize the hair too long, the asymmetrical silhouette. Intrigued and not daring to believe that he is your lover, you reach for the young man before suppressing a hiss of pain. Your wrist, the very one that was brutally bitten, is wrapped in a stained handkerchief, forming a rudimentary bandage. No need to look at the wound, you guess it is awful.

Positioning himself as far away from you as possible, James watches you carefully, trying to make himself small so as not to frighten you. For him too, everything is extremely confused. When he saw you in the woods, he saw only a prey, a body of flesh and blood to be devoured savagely like the bloodthirsty beast he has become in the last ten years. But hearing your voice, feeling you in his mouth, it's like a black veil has torn in his mind. Blood is life, it's a little bit of the soul of the person, their qualities, their memories that we can taste and yours was a precious but painful wine. With each sip of the delicate nectar, new images poured in, testifying to a forgotten common past, a lost humanity. Without really knowing why, the vampire saved your life at the last moment, offering his blood to keep yourself from succumbing. He has been watching your bedside for three days now, hoping to get answers and not to go crazy, divided between his bestiality and the vestiges of an old life.

His eyes are on you, you feel him curious and worried in a corner of the cabin, watching for the least of your sighs. Now, you're sure, it's Bucky who’s standing just a few yards away, your Bucky. You know he has changed and, basically, you also know you have changed but whatever, it's the man you love and you get up to join him. Your legs waver, you stagger but hold on, placing a hand on the creature's unique arm, looking him in the eyes.

"I was waiting for you ... I knew you couldn't be dead." You notice his tense posture, his way of staring at you as if he was thinking, did violence to analyze everything. "You don't remember me, do you?"

A nod, shy. Obviously he’s confused. You will help him, he will become himself over time. For now, you’re just happy to have found him and hugging him, wrapping your arms around his waist to rest your cheek against his chest. You will have plenty of time to think later, quite an eternity to tell the truth. James shivers when he feels your touch, he can't remember the last time he had such a contact. But it is not unpleasant and in his heart where winter has reigned for ten years, a small bubble of heat begins to crackle. He puts his hand on your back with infinite care, feels tears running down his cheeks without him really understanding why. You close your eyes and smile, just happy.

"I will help you find what you lost ..."

You stay entwined until daybreak and even afterwards, when you fall asleep while the sun is racing. Over the nights, James gradually recovers his memories, his personality remained locked up all this time. He cuts his hair, straightens himself and if he stays quiet, a light smile is lighting his face more and more often. With him, you learn to tame your new existence, little by little. Bucky teachs you to hunt, to control your strength and your speed, to heal your burns when a cruel ray of sunshine touches your skin. Your wrist keeps an ugly scar but you don't care, it's just a detail. Of course, you quickly sent a letter to your mother to reassure her and warn her that you would not come back, not for a while. You told her you found James, but she probably didn't believe you, that's okay. After a while, you decide to live more normally, to build your own home on the edge of the forest. Now you live in a nice wooden house that Bucky built with his hands and this evening, you intend to offer him your hand. Or rather, you will offer him his because it is a prosthesis that awaits him above the fireplace. Maybe you will finally be able to get married.

#Fic #bucky #bucky x reader #vampire

[maekkelae]

I used to have a band called Lily Of The West - about the release

Right in the middle of the Weirdo Folk Trinity Medicine Show-Tour with The Black Elephant Band and Ozzmond the whole thing kicked off. The fourth of twelve shows was the end of it. The virus stopped us, stopped the venues, the audiences, the country, the continent. It took a couple of days to realize what it meant in further consequence. The general effects got clear pretty soon though. For us as tour creatures obviously right away, but overall perspectives as performer/songwriter were devastating. No work, no income for at least a couple of months, maybe half a year and this was (and possibly is still) optimistic. The individual troubles made the situation even worse. I had to move house, which seemed to be an easy thing as there was obviously a lot of time at hands now. More than enough to meet my deadline for handing back the keys latest Good Friday. Few days later lockdown was declared for Bavaria which turned it all ultimately into a massive mess. But let's skip the dirty details. April 25th last bits and pieces were moved into a potentially nice place that needed walls painted and floors renewed. Being the lazy person I am I decided to wallpaper the toilet with tour posters and flyers I collected over the past twenty odd years on the road. A nice way to keep them, save money on paint and best of all - one room less to paint. Among quite some other surprising discoveries I found a poster of Lily Of The West. An acoustic three-piece outfit I used to play in back in the early 90s. Strange thing. I mean I totally forgot I was playing in a band that was active for about three (?) years. Maybe four.

Memories slowly came back. Good ones. Not so good ones too, but that's it with bands isn't it? Either way I couldn't get this out of my head. When Uli of Kulturlabbet in Linköping, Sweden contacted me whether I was up for an online/stream 45 minutes concert and interview thing I thought it a good opportunity to play the song the band was named after on this occasion. I never sang the whole song then and like a lot of the things I've done twenty odd years ago I wasn't particularly sure if I even liked it. But I did. And I rehearsed. It turned out an intense love-hate relationship. For some days it sounded just absolutely awesome, then I felt it was the lamest thing one could possibly do. Five verses to play to an audience you do neither see nor hear with an estimated attention span of two minutes max? But few days later it seemed to be ok again. To cut a long story short - it didn't go particularly well once we were live. I mean it was ok, but not necessarily a life-changing experience. That was that.

Nevertheless, I thought it might be fun recording a demo of it. Just for the sake of it. Just to do something different than painting walls or floors, going nuts with unpacking and repacking boxes, getting hysteric with not finding anything or just sitting there watching myself and the outside world go apeshit. At least I had one room ready to live in and space enough to set up things. In less than a week I found the box with the recording gear and so the first night I spent in my new home I recorded the song in my bedroom. And I began to really like it.

Next thing to happen was me losing it. Thought the years of touring solo prepped me to cope with a situation like the current one. They didn't. Not being able to perform, not being able to even plan shows, this big black hole of  nothingness started to show some effect. Not nice. That's when my fellow Folk's Worst Nightmare Collective mate The Black Elephant Band came up with the BIG Release DAY plan. "What do you think of this: let's release simultaneously new material on #bandcamp. All of us who are doing solo stuff. Something like the quarantine tapes. Pushing it through the various social media channels. Might get more attention than just one of us. You in?"

I agreed.

The only song apart from a just recorded demo of an old trad folk song I could think of was a rendition of one of my fave Thin White Rope songs I recorded and re-recorded over a very long time and finally given up on. Never really found the energy to do new vocals which was my last concern with it. Seven or eight years ago that was. Now there was one week time to get this sorted.

Of course my computer crashed. Obviously for good as I know now. Of course I couldn't sort the latency trouble with a quickly installed recording software on my laptop. Of course I needed this to be done quickly. Whatever. In a way it worked. It was only when listening to the recording I realized "On The Floe" was also a song in our live set with Lily Of The West. Moreover I remembered reading an interview with Guy Kyser, of Thin White Rope, no clue where, in which he states the song is either about or an incident involving a lake in Sweden. At least that's my recollection of it. So in a way we're back to Kulturlabbet... It just all fell in place, turned full circle. It's a funny feeling watching things like this happen. As if someone or something beyond your control is pulling the strings on a secret master plan.

I owe The Black Elephant Band for his idea. It made me wake up and and start doing things again. Things I love and didn't do for too long. I also owe Frank Mollena for the mastering which turned a ramshackle home recording into a lovely piece of music. Most of all the whole process of getting this ready and releasing it reminded me of the power of music. It can turn a shitty day into a great one, take you from deep down to sky-high. It's just too easy to forget these things if you're running in circles. It’s just so important not to lose yourself in this, as difficult this may be at times.

Hope things will be back to normal very soon. Hope we’ll get the chance to meet again in real life once we survived this. Stay alive. Don’t go crazy.

Listen to the single on Bandcamp

#bandcamp #Mäkkelä #i used to have a band called #lily of the west #americana #folk noir #folk music

[psyga315]

Rewriting Pooh’s Adventures

With everyone getting obsessed with rewriting, I decided to rewrite myself. However, I’m going with an old topic I used to touch up upon: Pooh’s Adventures.

Basic gist: Take a movie, insert clips of Winnie the Pooh, done. However, Pooh’s Adventures ends up having such a huge meta-plot involving villains having apprentices or the reasons behind the team ups that I can’t help but see some sort of nugget worth salvaging. So that’s what I’m gonna do. Rewrite Pooh’s Adventures to be a more streamlined story.

First off, some guidelines:

1.       It won’t be in video format. While Pooh’s Adventures is mainly shown through video, I feel like it would most benefit from something like written prose or comic format. Unless Sony Vegas suddenly becomes cheaper to access, the most people will have is a defunct application and a scramble to find an application that isn’t a free trial or overtly complex.

2.       No crapton of characters. I made a parody of Pooh’s Adventures where Pooh had 100 people that followed him, only for the number to get quickly decimated to about twenty or so. I’m not exaggerating the number at all. I remember at least one Adventure where a character outright states the absurd number of 78. As in “It’ll be just the 78 of us”. And that number grows with each character added. So, obviously we’re gonna stick to a low number, especially starting out.

3.       The Adventures in question are multi-chaptered “Episodes” of a long season. Not sure the approximate length, but 12 episodes seems like a good guideline.

With that out of the way, let’s begin:

This is a long post so...

PROLOGUE

It’ll be simple: Pooh and his friends at the 100 Acre Woods sans Christopher Robin. The set up might be a re-telling of Pooh’s Grand Adventure, but during their trip to Skull, they find Bowser there and he captures them, establishing his connection to Pooh.

EPISODE 1

Bowser then sells them to Queen Grimhilde who has them work alongside Snow White. Grimhilde has Ratigan and Fidget who keep tabs on her for Bowser. Prince Charming ends up getting replaced by Ash Ketchum, who had been separated from his friends as they faced a “legendary Pokemon”. And this inevitably gets to crossover shipping between Ash Ketchum and Snow White as she slowly realizes that Ash is the person she’s been wishing for, though Ash has cold feet about committing to a relationship, especially when he still wants to go on journeys.

Pooh is, for the most part, that kind of spectator protagonist, as are his friends. They witness the journey rather than partake in it. Of course, sometimes the characters take a course of action, like Tigger who Grimhilde easily manipulates into hunting down Snow White in trade for freeing him and his friends. This drives an already huge wedge in between Tigger and Rabbit and makes a conflict for Pooh on whether to trust one of his closest friends. Pooh, while not taking an active role, is going to be the most affected by these adventures.

The episode ends as usual, with Grimhilde dying, albeit the lighting bolt that broke the cliff is from Pikachu’s Thunder attack. Ash has a guilt trip over murdering someone in the heat of the moment (he realized he does love Snow White, but was too late to save her, at first) that he shut himself away. It’s here that he encounters newly appointed Conscience, Jiminy Cricket, who serves as Ash’s companion for his B-plots. Yeah, Ash is the deuteragonist for the story, at least for this first season. And yes, I do mean season.

Bowser, for now at least, is this overarching villain who always enters Pooh’s life in one way or another. Mostly through his associates or allies. As foreshadowing to his eventual final fight, Ratigan gets slightly angry, only for Fidget to calm him down and the two retreat. Upon hearing that Grimhilde is dead, Bowser mourns a bit for her before he mutters: “He won’t be happy to hear this”…

EPISODE 2

With Pooh and friends now freed from Grimhilde’s grasp, they go on a journey to find home. This lands them in France where they grab the interest of an inventor named Maurice, who instantly adores and wants to help them. They soon meet his daughter Belle who gripes about this man named Gaston and you know where this is going.

Ash, meanwhile, upon the advice from Jiminy, seeks to try and find someone to regain his strength. He finds Gaston and, upon hearing how he’s a hero to the town, effectively becomes a second LeFou and hangs on his every word. Though it isn’t until Ash eavesdrop on a conversation between Gaston and an old judge named Frollo that not only is Gaston a dick, but that Frollo, like Ratigan, is working under Bowser.

Gaston quips about how Frollo supposedly died at Notre Dame, only for him to chuckle and go “the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated”, all while he seemingly holds onto a wooden talisman. Ash tries to confront Gaston, only for him to beat him up and leave him for dead in the snow. There he’s taken in by the Enchantress and healed up. Jiminy recognizes her as a fey, akin to the Blue Fairy. She warns Ash that what he did against Grimhilde stained his heart with darkness and that it would take an act of equal value to cleanse it. In other words, Ash must revive or otherwise save someone’s life, even indirectly. She also warns him that dark hearts will attract other dark hearts, even if they are slightly tainted. In other words, Ash is gonna find himself bumping into villains more than Pooh will.

Speaking of, the experience at Beast’s Castle helps Pooh to better trust Tigger. There may also be a nod to the Christmas Special where they joke about that time a piano tried to kill them (may be in feature length though) and after Gaston is killed, Ash and Pooh reunite and go off on their next journey. Maurice helps Pooh out by inventing a means for easier transport. “I call it the Wah-gon.”

EPISODE 3

There, they go to Agrabah where we get a little more insight as to the villains as Jafar has a brief chat with a dark fey named Maleficent about Bowser’s plan to get revenge over Grimhilde’s death, with a brief aside that Bowser plans in involving him into the matters.

Meanwhile, Ash and Pooh are easily separated. Ash ends up with Aladdin and is concerned about his thieving considering the Enchantress’s warnings about dark hearts attracting dark hearts. However, he eases up as Aladdin hands a spare piece of bread to a child. Pooh ends up in Jasmine’s palace, where, like before, her father ends up being enamoured with the stuffed animals. Jafar easily spells trouble for Pooh and friends, especially after he mentions someone named Bowser Jr. as a potential suitor for Jasmine.

Details are rough here, but I do want to see a scene where Jasmine initially gets interested in Ash over Prince!Aladdin, if only to hammer in the point that Jasmine loved Aladdin for himself and not for his riches. There’s also a bit where Jafar, after getting the lamp and becoming a sorcerer, gloats to Maleficent about obtaining more power than her. They have a brief clash to which Bowser interferes and tells the two to knock it off. Maleficent merely glares at Jafar and leaves, telling him that pride comes before the fall. Jafar is soon defeated and with a free Genie, he decides to tag along with Pooh, just for a bit while he stretches his legs.

EPISODE 4

There’s a rather light-hearted episode about them encountering Alice and going to Wonderland. For the most part, it’s just a silly episode to break away from the more serious stories. Even a funny bit where Ratigan tries to recruit the Queen of Hearts, only to find she’s off her rocker and goes “okay, screw this, I’m outta here”. Because Wonderland is meant to be wacky. That said, there’s two important bits of information: one, Alice recognizes Pooh as Christopher Robin’s toy and explains about how he’s been busy with school but that he’ll always have Pooh in his heart. And two, Ratigan mutters that he’ll try “the other Queen of Hearts.”

EPISODE 5

Another light-hearted, but more serious story involves Cinderella. Having been through this before, Ash and Pooh resolve to beat up Tremaine, only for the Fairy Godmother to interfere and tell them that by doing so, they’ll increase the dark stain in Ash’s heart. For Tremaine to truly be defeated, they must instead help Cinderella. The group take her advice and leave to help her. The Godmother is happy at this change and waits to help Cinderella in her time of need…

Only for Maleficent to find the Fairy Godmother and kill her, taking her wand. Genie is the one that replaces her in the “Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo” sequence (citing he can’t stand to see a pretty woman cry) and stays out of helping her because he knows Pooh and Ash have it handled.

Ratigan is seen “helping” the mice, only to instead tip off Tremaine and her sisters about Cinderella. Pooh and Ash see Ratigan during the “break Cinderella out” scene and confront him, only for him to obtain control of Lucifer through a magical bell given to him by Maleficent. He uses Lucifer to nom at least some of the lesser important mice before being forced to retreat after Ash sics Pikachu at them. Ash still feels a little shook given how the last time he used Pikachu, he murdered someone, but Pooh reassures him that he’s helping Cinderella.

A dark idea I have that might not be featured because this is involving way too much than what is necessary is that Maleficent comes in Cinderella’s time of need and offers her power in trade for her allegiance to Bowser. In a moment of weakness, she accepts and burns the Tremaines, her hair turning blackish brown from the ashes. She goes full coocoo for coco puffs and embraces the teasing nickname she is given, renaming herself Cinder Fall. You can see why I’m not so keen on the idea, though if it sounds like a fun idea to you guys, I might include it.

Instead, Ash confronts Prince Charming (who ends up being the same Prince Charming that would have saved Snow White) about Cinderella and the two trade opinions. Ash tells Prince Charming that if he truly loves Cinderella, he has to be the hero and save her, while Prince Charming tells Ash about how he feels like marriage is an obligation, especially after his father passed away and it was made imperative that he married. Tempted to go further with this, go all Once Upon A Time, and reveal that he’s really the Pauper to the real Prince.

Tremaine also confronts Ash and tells her the backstory she had from the 2015 remake, where she had married Cinderella’s father and tried to make it better for them, only to realize that she had lived in the shadows of both the deceased mother and of Ella herself. She merely wanted to bring joy to their lives only to get slapped in the face and be indirectly told that she’ll never be significant in their lives. Ash shoots her down by pointing to the depressed Cinderella and telling her that rather than bring joy, she brought misery and despair and says how she will merely become a shadow that haunts Cinderella’s dreams.

So, after the glass slipper breaks, rather than bring out the spare, Prince Charming decides to go with his gut and accept Cinderella as the woman he fell in love with. Tremaine has one last talk with Cinderella where she breaks down and apologizes, only for Cinderella to forgive her. However, Tremaine is so wrecked with guilt that she feels like she can’t be forgiven, and goes into exile. Ash realizes how, like him, she too has a dark sliver in her heart that must be overtaken with an act of equal value. He goes off to follow her as Genie parts ways with Pooh to travel the globe.

EPISODE 6

This is a turning point as it’s a two-parter.

Pooh, following on a letter given to him by Alice, goes to the Darling estate, close to where Christopher Robin lives. However, they get a detour when Tinkerbell accidently puts pixie dust on Pooh and the happy thoughts of reuniting with him end up making him fly. Meanwhile, Ash finds Ratigan about to manipulate Tremaine to the dark side and confronts him. Ratigan ambushes them though and takes them to Captain Hook’s ship where they’ll be taken to Bowser to complete their corruption.

Thankfully, Hook has a one-mind track named Peter Pan and is busy fighting him instead of transporting them to Bowser. Once he gets more serious about killing Peter Pan, Ash believes it’s because he lost his hand to him and confronts him on it, only to be told that he lost more than that: Peter Pan killed his wife. Ash, having met him at some point during the battles between him and Hook, doesn’t believe him and that there has to be more to the story than that. Tremaine proves to be an effective lady on the ship and puts the pirates in line, helping Ash escape in the huge climax.

During said climax, rather than getting chased by Tick Tock like in the original, Hook tries to get Peter Pan to admit his murder. Maleficent appears and tells Hook to hurry up. The way she enters via green fiery entrance causes Hook to notice something off and remembers how his wife died: green fire. He asks Maleficent if she killed her. Maleficent gloats about it, telling him that she did kill his wife and blamed Peter Pan for it, if only to ensure that he’d side with Bowser. She reminds him that he’s only Bowser’s lapdog and that he should do as told if it’s good for him. Hook takes out a sword and swears revenge…

And then Maleficent explodes him with magic a la Watchmen. She groans and as Ash tries to fight her, she goes “ENOUGH OF THIS!” and uses the Fairy Godmother’s wand.  

EPISODE 7

Ash wakes up in another timeline where Hook survives, never knowing of Maleficent’s actions, but Peter Pan has grown old and has kids. He tries to tell Hook the truth, only for him to refute Ash. He has gone on too long without revenge and the fact that Peter Pan gets to have a happy life and not him drives him to the deep end. Tremaine, meanwhile, tries to get through to Peter’s son, who has grown upset with his negligence, something she feels like she has done to Cinderella.

Pooh, meanwhile, is on another timeline where it’s Wendy who grew old and had kids. Basically the plots for both Hook and Return to Neverland happen side by side. However, Pooh is able to get through to Hook a lot easier than Ash by simply being dumb enough to let Hook come to the conclusion that Maleficent killed his wife himself. He swears vengeance on them, gives up fighting Peter Pan, and takes them back to London just as Ash returns from his version of Neverland. When the wand is used, it split the realm into two timelines, hence why London is the same. Ratigan is there to try and capture them all right here and now.

Ash retaliates by having Pikachu fight him. The fight is where Ratigan loses his temper and goes all out. The two are evenly matched until Pikachu steals the bell from Ratigan and causes him to fall off of Big Ben (with a little help from Peter Pan, who ends up getting synchronized between Hook!Peter and RTN!Peter thanks to returning to London.) Ash, not wanting to have any more blood on his hands, uses Pooh and his friends as makeshift cushions to save Ratigan and tells him to run. He does… then finds Maleficent who monologued about using the wand for her own purposes. Thinking she wants to overthrow Bowser thanks in part to his anger, he tries to fight Maleficent… only for her to step on him and call him vermin.

Oh, and at one point during this two parter, there’s a nod to Ash never aging from Peter Pan and possibly an implication that Ho-Oh gave him that immortality. And also the words “all of this has happened before and all of it will happen again” becomes a pretty relevant phrase throughout the two-parter and throughout the next couple of episodes.

EPISODE 8

Wendy informs Pooh that Christopher Robin has gone on a field trip to the amazons, so that’s where Pooh and his friends go with the help of Hook’s ship. This is where Hook departs, telling them that if they ever need a lift to simply call him with a repurposed communicator device that Bowser originally gave him. There, Pooh meets Jane, Christopher Robin’s aunt, who is out wanting to research for gorillas. There, he also meets Clayton and Injun Joe. Having met the Neverland Injuns, Pooh assumes both Clayton and Joe are friendly. Spoilers: they’re not.

This time, Ash is with the heroes and Pooh is with the villains. The reason is that Ash sympathizes with Tarzan as he had encountered someone like him before (The Kangaskhan Kid) and also how Tarzan’s savagery had him confused that he’s the one he should be worried about, not Clayton. Meanwhile, Pooh gets friendly with Clayton, while Rabbit and Tigger’s schism gets to its boiling point, causing the two to split. Tigger encounters Ash and finds the gorillas. He then goes to Clayton and tells them the location of the gorillas. This causes Clayton’s true nature to be revealed, to which Rabbit and Tigger just grow further apart.

There’s a brief war between man and gorilla, though in the moment of this, Maleficent appears before Clayton and Injun Joe and tells them to accomplish their gorilla hunting mission for Bowser. To help, Maleficent uses the Fairy Godmother’s wand to turn the in Injun Joe’s heart to turn him into a vicious Beast named Injurin’ Joe. Yes, I’m going with that. However, Joe’s new powers get to him and rather than Clayton hanging himself, as soon as he’s defeated, Joe kills and eats Clayton. Ash fights him, only for Pikachu to come in and save him with a Thunderbolt to the chest, killing Joe. Ash’s flashbacks are triggered and he shakes. Keep in mind that he’s a ten-year-old and had not only witnessed death, but also murdered two people at this point. Needless to say, Ash isn’t all right in the head, but Tremaine comforts Ash. By this point, she’s become the mother of the group, much to Rabbit’s dismay.

Jane informs Pooh that Christopher Robin sadly was lost at sea during a storm. The group is devastated. Too devastated to even move on…

EPISODE 9

A group of sailors hired by Professor Porter escort the group home on the ship, only for the storm to kick up again. Jiminy, in the midst of this, recognizes a whale that attacks them as Monstro, the very same whale that ate Geppetto and Pinocchio. With no time to react, the group is nommed by Monstro and this becomes our Belly of the Whale episode. With the very real fate of being digested by Monstro, Pooh and the others must make do with the fact that Christopher Robin may have died.

Pooh is depressed knowing his journey is for naught, Piglet is upset that Tigger and Rabbit are fighting amongst themselves, Eeyore is depressed because he’s Eeyore, Ash is convinced he’s doomed to be a villain, Tremaine is confronting her cruelty over Cinderella, and overall everyone’s bummed out. That’s when they hear a familiar voice. It’s Christopher Robin! Turns out he isn’t dead, but rather saved by Monstro. Jiminy wonders how that makes sense since the last time he met him, he wasn’t so nice…

Turns out he wasn’t. He expels them out before the newly crowned Queen of the Sea: Ursula.

EPISODE 10

Ursula, after granting the group the ability to breathe out of pity, tells them about how Bowser wanted them alive. Pooh & friends to once again be Bowser’s slave and Ash & Tremaine to become fully corrupted. Ash is tempted to use Pikachu to thundershock her, but that’s when Ursula stops him, pointing out that with each kill he racks up, it’s another stain on his heart. When it becomes fully tainted, he’ll be one with the darkness.

She locks them up and gets ready to meet Bowser. However, Ariel, in the process of trying to nab the trident from Ursula, finds Pooh and his friends, then breaks them out. Ariel ends up being fascinated with Ash and Tremaine given they’re humans while Pooh goes over and takes the Trident from Ursula. The group fight Ursula and manage to defeat her, only for Maleficent to appear and attempt to capture Pooh and his friends… Then Pooh uses Triton’s trident and causes a disruption with the Fairy Godmother’s wand, splitting the group including Maleficent. They split across time once more…

EPISODE 11

Ash awakens in the Fairy Realm where the Enchantress finds Ash. Her not knowing who Ash is confirms he’s in the distant past of Sleeping Beauty. Pooh and the others end up in a cottage where three kindly old ladies and a growing girl take them in, the present time of Sleeping Beauty (the past). And lastly, Maleficent and Tremaine end up at her broken castle in the future (the present).

Let’s break this down:

Ash and the Enchantress come across a beautiful fairy with hawk-like wings. To his surprise, she is Maleficent. Yes. I’m. Going. There. Anyways, this is the eve where Stefan goes to kill Maleficent to be crowned king. However, he can’t go through with it and so cuts off her wings. Ash confronts Stefan about this to which Stefan comments how he is willing to do anything to be king, but killing the one he loves is a line he couldn’t cross. He says that Ash should be grateful that Maleficent was spared and goes off into the night.

Pooh learn about the situation from the fairies and realize how much of a dick Maleficent is. The fairies conveniently leave out the bit where she used to be good until Stefan screwed her over. Prince Phillip is revealed to be a cousin of Prince Charming. The plot goes pretty much like Sleeping Beauty/Maleficent, except without Stefan going crazy-go-nuts in-between scenes.

Tremaine and Maleficent discuss about what Maleficent wants, as she recognizes the wand from the tales she used to read Cinderella. A wand with infinite powers, even reviving the dead if need be. She asks why she holds such a power to which she tells her about Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother. Or rather, she tells her about how she held so much power and yet did nothing when Cinderella suffered under her heel or even before Tremaine entered her life.

Tremaine is both upset and angry at this, but this time not to herself, but at the Godmother. Maleficent rubs this in by telling her about the Enchantress and how she turned a prince into a beast, with the servants being turned into items just to spite them. She gives her the revelation that fairies used to be nice and good, hearts of pure light. Then man intruded on their lands and turned them rotten. Now they wish to exact revenge on humanity, with Bowser giving them the means to do so. What she left out was that the fairies only do so to rotten humans. Those with black hearts. Prince Adam was selfish and so turned into the Beast. Injun Joe was cruel and so turned into Injurin’ Joe. Only to those who are pure of hearts or have a chance at redemption do the fairies intervene and help them.

And that’s what the Blue Fairy does: intervene. And boy is she pissed. Maleficent murdered her own kin for power. Maleficent calls her out by showing the wand. What kind of all-powerful being just sits there and does nothing while people suffer? With the wand’s power, she will save everyone, starting with herself. Before the Blue Fairy can do anything, she casts the spell and goes back in time.

Ash, due to the time travel on Maleficent’s part, ends up getting warped back to the point where Stefan is about to cut off Maleficent’s wings, only for Maleficent, the Blue Fairy, and Tremaine to appear. Maleficent tries to kill Stefan before he can do the deed, but Ash stops her and shows her how he couldn’t go through with killing her in the past. That, deep inside, he truly loved her enough to spare her. Maleficent, however, is far too gone to reconsider and before she can attack Stefan, the Blue Fairy rams into Maleficent and forces her to the present.

By this point, Pooh & friends are at the scene where Phillip is captured and the fairies go to break him out. It’s revealed that this is before Maleficent has teamed up with Bowser, let alone team up with him. Pooh and Christopher Robin break Phillip out while Rabbit and Tigger, finally finding a common ground, beat up the goblins while Piglet and Eeyore get the wagon ready for the group to ride out on. Soon, Ash’s group emerge and the two Maleficents, as they share the same time now, merge and the result is a more powerful dragon, the likes of which not even the fairies can stop. The Blue Fairy, however, summons Charizard and Ash hops on him to fight Maleficent in a sky battle while Pooh and the others figure out how to defeat Maleficent. The fairies enchant Phillip’s sword, but it can’t pierce the scales. Pooh, however, figures out a weakness and as soon as Maleficent roosts, he climbs on her. She can’t feel Pooh because he’s stuffed with fluff and during the battle, Pooh slowly and surely starts to rip apart her scales, eventually leaving a piece of flesh where Phillip can impale her. For added cool points, this is right after Ash’s Charizard does that “fly around the world” Seismic Toss he’s known for.

With Maleficent dead, Ash looks at the remains of her: the Fairy Godmother’s wand. He frowns and mutters that she’s the one whose darkness overtook her heart. He picked up the wand and with that resolve in mind, he goes to Stefan and tells her about Maleficent, only for him to break down into tears and realize the consequences of his actions. Tremaine notices this and reconciles with Stefan, telling him that what’s done is done and that they can only work towards a brighter future. She announces her intent to stay with Stefan and Aurora. Blue Fairy takes everyone back to present time where Ash finds that Tremaine had lived a good life with Stefan and Aurora, having found her one true place and redemption.

It seems like the happy ending is achieved since Pooh is reunited with Christopher Robin and Ash seems to have resolved his inner conflict, buuuut there’s one more obstacle that comes in and attacks Pooh and Ash: the same legendary Pokemon that split Ash from his friends. It descends and transforms into a warlock, who declares that Ash killed his sister, Queen Grimhilde.

EPISODE 12

The man introduces himself as Maliss and wants revenge on Ash. Ash steps forwards and tells him to kill him if it satisfies him. To which he does… Only for Pikachu to take the bullet. Cue that scene where Pikachu talks and everyone freaks out. Thankfully, Pikachu is spared thanks to the Blue Fairy’s intervention, but she ends up weakened from it. She reveals the reason fairies only intervene for good humans and punish bad ones. The pureness of someone’s heart fuels the magic. If the magic is to benefit a cruel person, then the fairy is punished for it by giving their life force. Same goes if they punish a kind person. It was put in place by Mother Nature herself to keep the Fairies in balance. There’s also one other problem, one that explains why the Fairy Godmother didn’t just bring Cinderella’s mother back: life must be paid with life. Essentially, Pikachu’s wounds transferred over to the Blue Fairy.

As the Blue Fairy dies, she tells them to seek out a wizard named Merlin. Before Maliss can continue his onslaught, Mewtwo intervenes and teleports them to his hideout: Skull, the same place Bowser was at. It turns out that the reason Bowser was there to begin with was to try and strike an alliance with Mewtwo, only for him to rebuff. Ash tries to talk to Mewtwo, given how he met him, but he tells Ash that he doesn’t remember Ash. The only human he does remember his is creator, someone named Dr. Spengler.

He explains that, like the previous Mewtwo, he escaped, but was without purpose. That’s when the Blue Fairy came and told him to prepare for a battle against the forces of Darkness. He basically gets Pooh up to speed about how Bowser is this evil dude who has legions of villains and he won’t stop until the world’s in his grasps. Ash feels guilty over what happened and goes to sulk. The Blue Fairy’s wand activates with the Fairy Godmother’s wand and sends him to an alternate universe entirely for a brief moment. There, he meets an adult Snow White who is happily married, not to him, but rather the Prince Charming that was meant to marry Cinderella. Snow White finds Ash familiar, but can’t seem to put her finger on it. Ash wants to tell Snow White how sorry he is for not reciprocating her love, but realizes that she might not even know what he’s talking about, so he words it as a “I have a friend” situation. She tells Ash not to lose hope and that true love can break any curse.

Ash flashes back and, with that resolve in mind, he goes off to revive Snow White with love’s first kiss. Snow White wakes up and they have a touching reunion. Maliss comes by to crash the party, but Pooh, with the help of Mewtwo, stop him. Bowser then arrives, fed up with Pooh’s constant interference and how each of his allies fell to him. He attacks Pooh while Ash fights Maliss. It’s a pretty climatic showdown, but Pooh is shown to be on the ropes despite putting up a good “fight” (read: running from Bowser). That is until Aladdin shows up on Carpet and slashes Bowser with a scimitar. Then Tarzan throws a spear at Bowser. Peter Pan flies in with his knife. I’d add more returning characters, but Adam’s no longer the Beast, Wonderland is explicitly a dreamish realm with no desire to interfere with this war, Ash is pulling double duty for Prince Charming, Ariel can’t walk on land yet, and Phillip died of old age.

But the point still stands, Pooh may not have strength, but he has something Bowser can never have: friends. This is made poignant when Christopher Robin, the friend that kickstarted his adventure in the process, being the one to defeat Bowser by tipping him and having him on his back. Bowser retorts by saying how his circle of mages are his friends and that he will come back with many more. Before the group can finish him off, a large owl flies in and carries Bowser off, telling him that his father wishes to speak to him.

Ash, meanwhile, utilizes a weakness of Maliss: he uses a cape that turns people into stone. Ash grabs the cape and uses it on Maliss, turning him to stone. He falls down and gravity finishes him off. Ash feels guilty at first, but doesn’t have the same twinge of malice he had when he killed Grimhilde nor the fear when he killed Injurin’ Joe. He feels Snow White hugging his back and realizes why. He wasn’t fighting for revenge or in the heat of the moment. He was fighting to protect the people he loves.

With everything neatly wrapped up, Ash leaves with Snow White to find his friends, Mewtwo stays in Skull while petting a wolf he calls Aisling, and Pooh and Christopher Robin have a heart-to-heart about school and how Christopher Robin tells Pooh that while he won’t always be around, he’ll still have a place in Pooh’s heart. Roll credits, everyone lives happily ever after, right?

WRONG!

EPILOGUE

Bowser is brought to a world of darkness by the Grand Duke of Owls. There, he is brought face to face with a robed man he calls “father”. The man demands to know why some of Bowser’s strongest wizards have been put out of commission, to which Bowser tells him of Pooh. He is intrigued by the notion that Bowser was defeated by a fluffy teddy bear, but also embarrassed. He declares that Bowser’s son, Bowser Jr., will depart to far-east Asia to prepare for the oncoming storm. Bowser tries to protest, grabbing the man by the collar. The hood falls off, revealing a skeleton.

The skeletal man reassures Bowser. He’s training with a powerful empire and that when he returns with his betrothed, he will be the most powerful Koopa in the land. Bowser is pissed, but acknowledges what needs to be done. “I know… I must avenge Mother….” The skeleton then tells the Grand Duke of Owls to fetch him a potato sack. Confused, the DGoO obliges and goes over to fetch a sack. The skeleton then summon forth bugs to go over and infest the bag, eating the potatoes and eventually making the sack its home. It then rises and stands straight up before contorting the bag to make arms and legs, and finally, a head.

“What brings me to your service, oh Wiseman?” Oogie Boogie asks.

----

And yeah, that’s basically how I’d rewrite Pooh’s Adventures. Took about a good 6 hours to write up the first season. What do you guys think?

#Pooh's Adventures #Winnie the Pooh #Fanfic #Crossover

[swordsandparasols]

hi! what do you think about the romance the writer from Haechi is building between the Yeo-Jiand the Crown Prince? i just got spoilers from next eps, so it's seems it's happen more soon than i was thinking. i thought she was going more subtle. i just hope this don't overshadow her character. i wonder if it's to boost the ratings.

Based on Hwajung and what I’ve heard of Dong Yi and Yi San, I don’t think the writer is prone to letting the romantic plotlines over power the plot.  Haechi is also something of a bridge piece to Dong Yi and Yi San (Dong Yi is about Prince Yeoning’s mother, and Yi San about his grandson/successor) to form a bit of a trilogy, so I doubt she’ll break form too much.  Even though Haechi tends to be aiming for a slightly younger audience than her past works, she’s still very much a trad sageuk writer, and romance tends to be secondary there.  The main differences between Haechi and the other three is length-the others were 50 or more hour long episodes and Haechi is 48 half hour episodes, and the fact that the lead couple in Haechi is completely fictional (as a couple-Yeo Ji is a fictional character but Yeoning. obviously, is not) while the others were historical pairings with documented kids and all.

I don’t know how the shorter length will affect her style yet, but we’ll see.  I think the biggest factor  as far as “will the romantic plotline get more dominant?” is the fact that Go Ara was recently hospitalized due to an ankle injury and has to have a cast.*  This may result in Yeo Ji having to stay in the palace and closer to Yeoning than she has been to date, when she spends most of her time doing field work.  We’ll see.

*Apparently she’s injured the same ankle more than once before, but given Kim Nam Gil’s repeated on-set injuries in The Fiery Priest, I’m side-eyeing SBS hardcore right now.

#kdrama #sageuk #haechi+

[mcneelamusic]

Switching from Classical Music to Traditional Irish Music – Everything You Need to Know

Are you a classically trained musician who wants to learn traditional Irish music for the first time? Well then, you’ve come to the right place.

Making the switch from classical to Irish music can seem a little daunting at first, especially if you’re to believe everything you read online. Most of this advice would be enough to put anyone off. Don’t worry. I’m here to help.

If you’ve researched the topic at all, I’m sure you’ve come across several opinions stating that classical musicians can’t play traditional music authentically and will need to leave their formal training behind. Nonsense! There are far more pros than cons to being classically trained.

So what are they?

Keep reading to find out. I’ll show you the main pitfalls to watch out for when learning traditional Irish music. You’ll learn the nuances and stylistic elements to be mindful of and I’ll provide some handy tips and tricks for learning traditional Irish music. I’ll also dispel the common misconceptions about both disciplines.

You’ll be an authentic trad musician in no time.

Contents

The Quick Answer

Understanding the Genre

Technique

Find the Right Teacher

Aural Skills

Sheet Music

Expression

The Right Instrument

The Next Step

Musical Techniques

Music Notation Interpretation

Melodic Variations

Slow Airs

The Quick Answer

Once you are prepared to listen and learn, there’s nothing holding you back:

Learn to listen, and most importantly, learn to swing.

Go to as many trad sessions as you can.

Immerse yourself as much as possible in traditional Irish music.

Understanding the Genre

If you’ve listened to a life changing trad album for the first time and decided you want to make the switch to traditional Irish music, great. Now go listen to at least ten more albums so you have a better understanding of the music before you begin.

Find out who the masters of your chosen instrument are and listen to their music. Identify the elements of their playing that sound foreign to you. These will be the aspects that will need the most attention.

Listening is so important and something you can never do too much of. Immersing yourself in the tradition through listening will be of massive benefit to both your learning and playing. It’s also one of the least challenging and most enjoyable parts of learning a new instrument or genre of music.

Technique

Classically trained musicians typically have excellent technique. Whether it comes to posture, holding the instrument or the technicalities of playing. None of this will be a hindrance to your learning or playing.

Just know that when you go to a session, you’ll see people holding their instruments in weird and wonderful ways. This is particularly true for flute and fiddle players.

You’ll see flutes resting on shoulders, and fiddles held with a flat palm against the neck. You might not want to look too closely at the bow holds either.  

Personally, I’m a fan of good posture. It leads to less injuries further down the line. That being said, some of the greatest traditional Irish musicians hold their instruments the ‘wrong’ way and succeed in producing a beautiful sound.

Musical Techniques

When it comes to playing, there are certain musical techniques that don’t translate well from classical music to Irish music and should be used sparingly.

Vibrato is achieved by a different method on the Irish flute than on the classical flute for example. To learn more about this, take a look at my helpful blog post: Switching from Classical Flute to Irish Flute.

Don’t worry too much about these small differences though. A good teacher will soon set you straight. Which brings me to my next piece of advice…

Find the Right Teacher

Where’s the best place to find a teacher?

I always recommend starting with your local Comhaltas branch. Comhaltas Ceoltoirí Éireann is the Irish national organisation responsible for the preservation and promotion of traditional Irish music, song and dance.

These days however, they have branches throughout the world, making them very much a global operation.

If there’s no Comhaltas branch near you, I would still recommend contacting them as they may be able to recommend a musician who teaches in your area.

I know you might be thinking ‘Do I really need a teacher? Can’t I just teach myself?’.

You could try. You might even succeed. But, you might also miss out on the nuances and subtle stylistic differences that set traditional irish music apart.

A good teacher will set you on the right path and offer invaluable guidance and expertise. Lessons are a worthy investment that will equip you with all the necessary skills to take your playing to the next level.

Next, make sure that your teacher understands you’re already a fully functioning musician in your own right. You may need a little fine tuning. But as a classically trained musician (unless you’re learning a new instrument), you already know the basics.

This means your teacher can start to focus on playing style and the intricacies of the music right from the beginning.

If you’re struggling to find a teacher local to you, don’t despair! With online learning becoming so prolific, it’s easy to find a teacher these days who can carry out lessons via Skype or Zoom.

There’s also an abundance of pre-recorded courses available online for almost every traditional Irish instrument. They’re really handy if you can’t get hold of a teacher. They’re portable, you can access them whenever suits you and you can slow them down or stop and repeat tricky parts whenever you need to, so you don’t miss anything.

Aural Skills

Most classical musicians already have great aural skills in many ways. To learn Irish music you may need to retrain your ear slightly.

Many tunes are taught ‘by ear’ – in other words, aurally.

Here’s how it usually works in a lesson format:

Your teacher will play the tune through in its entirety to give you a feel for it and to allow you to absorb the melody.

Starting from the beginning, your teacher will play the tune at a slower pace, phrase by phrase.

You will be expected to play back the phrase as you hear it in a call and answer style.

Don’t panic if this sounds daunting. Your teacher will break the tune into manageable chunks and work at a pace that suits you. You can (and will) practice and improve your aural skills.

Eventually you’ll be picking tunes up by ear at a session without having to slow anything down at all!

Sheet Music

Traditional Irish musicians are not musically illiterate. Many trad musicians can and do read sheet music. We just don’t use it for performance purposes.

There are many handy tips available to help with memorising tunes. Listen to the melody repeatedly, but most importantly, practice, practice, practice. The muscle memory in your hands and fingers will work wonders!

Many teachers are also happy to use sheet music notation as a teaching aid. You don’t have to learn by ear all the time. Yes, you should always be listening to recordings as a guide. But no, you won’t always have to learn by ear.

The ability to learn by ear is an incredibly useful skill to have however, and one well worth honing. But you won’t be left in the dark if you struggle with this a little at the beginning.

Music Notation Interpretation

You may struggle slightly if you’re attempting to play a traditional Irish jig or reel directly from the sheet music notation however.

Traditional Irish music has an unwritten swing which can vary according to each regional style.

This swing exists in jigs and reels alike but you will never see it notated. That’s why listening to the music is so important. Only then will you understand the rhythm and phrasing of a tune, as well as where to place the accents.

While the signature ‘dotted’ rhythm of hornpipes is usually easier to identify on a page, even this notated rhythm is nuanced.

Some classical players can struggle with understanding the swing and natural rhythm of tunes. It’s not that different to jazz or blues. You just need to listen and feel the groove.

Melodic Variations

Another aspect of traditional Irish music playing that you won’t learn from sheet music notation is the use of melodic variations. It���s rare that you’d hear the melody of a tune performed the same way twice in a row.

Improvisation is a musical skill that some classical players may not be quite as used to. This one really depends on individual musical experience. But, like all skills, it’s one that can be practiced and perfected with time.

How can you practice your improv skills? I’m aware I’m starting to sound like a broken record here, but listening to recordings will give you all the inspiration you need.

Simply try playing along to your favourite tracks. Try to play something different each time, even if it’s just something small. Change the duration of a note. Play a different pitch or note in place of another. Use a different form of ornamentation. Then gradually build all of these ideas up together.

Sometimes ideas will work. Sometimes they won’t. Trial and error really is the best way to learn!

Expression

I sometimes hear trad musicians claim that classical musicians just can’t feel the music in the same way. I heartily disagree.

Any talented musician who is in touch with the music on an emotional level can play expressively. Listen to any classically trained pianist play a Chopin nocturne and try to tell me they don’t understand musical expression. This is an unfair and unfounded claim.

For most musicians, the sheer enjoyment of making music with others is so evident when they play, that musical expression is not a worry. The infectious energy of traditional Irish music creates such joy in those who play it.

Slow Airs

Slow airs or laments are tunes that truly allow musical expression to shine.

Airs are more than a beautiful, haunting melody. The most popular Irish slow airs are usually taken from the melodies of well known sean nós songs.

The best way to learn a slow air on your instrument is to listen to it being sung first. Try to match the singer’s phrasing on your own instrument. Find a copy of the lyrics and follow along as you listen to the placement of the words.These are all important aspects that should influence your instrumental playing.

The lyrics of the song, and the singer’s breath dictate the phrasing, while the overall text or message of the song will dictate the mood. It’s important to know and understand the history and subject matter of the air or song.

We’re not exactly a nation that’s known for our uplifting ballads. More often than not, the subject matter is heartache, unrequited love, banishment or death. This is important to keep in mind when attempting to play any slow air.

Have a listen to these two versions of the beautiful air Amhrán na Leabhair, sung here by sean nós singer, Seosaimhín Ní Bheaglaíoch:

Next, played on the Irish wooden flute by Conal Ó Gráda. It’s clear Conal understands the subject matter of the text and has listened to the phrasing as performed by an experienced sean nós singer:

The Right Instrument

While some instruments, such as the piano or violin, are universal and can be used to play any genre of music, certain other instruments are specific to traditional Irish music.

If you’re a classically trained flautist for example, I would highly recommend investing in an Irish wooden flute, rather than attempting to learn to play Irish music on your Boehm system flute. It can be done, but for that authentic Irish sound, a wooden flute is best.

Alternatively, you may have your eye on learning a brand new instrument entirely. If that’s the case, then you’ve definitely come to the right place.

McNeela Instruments has been specialising in Traditional Irish Musical Instruments since 1979, so you know you’re in good hands.

The Next Step

Our online store offers a range of Irish fiddles, bodhráns, tin whistles, Irish button accordions, tenor banjos, concertinas and much more.

Whether you’re looking to re-learn on your current instrument or take up a new one, we have something for everyone. Every good musician needs a good instrument in hand.

With a new instrument in hand and this new information in your head, you’re already well on your way to becoming a fully fledged traditional Irish musician – no one need ever know otherwise!  

[supernovellass]

𝗦𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝘀, 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻𝗲.

There was a specific roar that only came with the early hours that were spent in your local — the one where everyone knew one another, where everyone had toddled around with the patter of little feet, feet that now stomped out a beat upon the oak of the bartop. Trad music filled the room to the point where any and all conversation was contaminated by it, it was in every corner of each memory of laughter you held with your dear ones. The swell of music would dim into a gentle sway as the hours ticked far beyond closing time, into the minutes that whispered rumors of the rising sun, and they left you feeling as if you had no choice but to spill the darkest corners of your mind. 

We would do this every weekend, let Friday night leak into Saturday, just so we could keep each other's company a little longer. We were too young to have crossed the line into repeating stories of our war years — each tale was fresh, each detail of bravery garnered admiration, as if we were these indestructible things. No — our tales were too young to NEED repeating. That didn’t mean there was no fun to be had with them.

I’d found myself at the forefront of many conversations, though I never placed myself there, it seemed to happen with ease. 

“Nova, tell us about Mark again, go on!” 

The circle comprised of my friends would burst into howls of laughter, while the clueless tourist we’d proclaimed to be our best friend for life would stare with wide eyes at the girl who sat upon the throne of her peers’ adoration.

“Lads, give over, you know the story well.”

A glance to the newcomer who appeared overcome with grief. A slow spread of glee overcame my face as I lifted a pint to and from my mouth, a click of my tongue preceeding my followup. 

“He only ended up in the emergency room, with Daddy’s best pitchfork through his foot.” 

My laughter mixed right in with theirs’, exactly where it was meant to be. Of course, no more was said of the night in question, mystery dripping from the few details I’d allowed to air — logic would dictate that such a tale should cause people to flee, yet it never failed to land me a trip to a dimly lit corner of the pub, with an all too eager stranger, whose outgoing flight the very next day was their biggest appeal.

These nights were what filled my soul well beyond the brim, left me overflowing with enough joy to fuel a lifetime, and their endings wouldn’t be excluded from the merriment. Once I’d had my fill with my flavor of the week, I’d purr my farewells, and bounce back to more familiar faces to declare my exit. Enough uproar to rival a stadium, swiftly met with kisses dropped to crowns, fingers reaching to silence their protests with a hand to the mouth. We always parted this way — love radiating, smiles worn wide, and promises of tomorrow. 

With my sights set on the sun kissing the skyline, I made my way along the edge of a winding stretch of road that I knew all too well — strolled many times in this exact scenario, a light sway to my steps, my fingers curled around the dangling straps of my shoes. There would never be anything quite like the crisp feel of the air in the early morning, pinching your cheeks as if it were whispering away, teasing you for moments that might bring color to them. Lost entirely to the morning’s chill, a distant whistling snaps me back to reality, the noise drawing my gaze off to my left and into the depths of the trees. My steps slow, but don’t halt, as I do my utmost to squint my vision all the way into the woodland — a feat that surprisingly fails me, and leaves the confirmation of my suspicions to the next high pitched whistle that rings out.

  I pause all movement, all air to my lungs, turn on the balls of my feet, and stare off into the distance. Where the road was treated to the beginnings of the sun, the forest looked as if it had never known the light of day, and before I knew it, the shadows were engulfing my frame. The surface made of stones and twigs that cracked beneath bare feet should have been screaming at me with stabbing pains, but I didn’t feel them, only heard their cries spreading outward among the woods — there was nothing but a chilling emptiness beyond us, leaving me to be the only one to carry their tales. My palms brushed over cracks that decorated the trees I passed, reaching to them for guidance as I paved a path directly to the darkest point amongst the woodland, my feet carrying me forward without any need for permission. Soon, heels passed the threshold of an empty space which had no business existing in the middle of overgrown land, all movement ceasing as my eyes strained to rest on the opposite side of this unnamed place, all to find a piece of the darkness that moved. 

Lids fell shut, away from this site veiled by darkness, opening again with eyes that matched the pitch black that surrounded me.

“Brothers.”

#solos

[sweetlifetownsville]

Solicitor Barry Taylor's Former Business Mate Gets Two And A Half Years In The Jug

Labor influencer Wayne Myers getting jail time for his role in the Ipswich corruption scandal must be embarrassing for Big Bazza Taylor, the worlds most touchy solicitor when it comes to his business dealings. Mind you, Taylor did no wrong when he teamed up briefly with Myers in Townsville more than a decade ago, but unfair perceptions of guilt by association may be about to get worse for our much loved legal foghorn. Our receding floodwaters have revealed some home truths about the cupidity of our council, and the fallacy of the Bulletins tub-thumping agenda. Do you reckon that her call for a Qantas boycott was our mayors finest hour? Well, now the she who would be the Battlers Boedicia has gone one better threatening insurance companies with a big stick, which may well end with a more damaging push back than the Qantas call. But spite of all our tribulations, love was in the air during the week, when we endured that annual dork fest of bad poetry and unrequited lust known as Valentines Day and this year, animals got in on the act no no, you grubby lot, not like that, they just played it for laughs. But first Getting Even Since Indias gift to the desecration of Australian native bird life is the unpleasant Indian Mynah, somehow it seems only fair it is a native Aussie bird that is now taking its revenge on an unpleasant Indian miner.

The row over the state governments somewhat clunky internal factional power play about the protection of the Black Throated Finch habitat which is apparently threatened by the Adani Carmichael mine project is a right old knicker twister. The Astonisher iditor Jenna Cairneys dainties have taken a hell of a contortion, forcing her yet again into unintended humour. First we had two News Corpse journos in the same edition of the paper making exactly opposing claims about the birds. One, The Astonishers John Andersen, who knows about these things being a straight down the line bushie, quoted some of his widespread old timer country contacts that the bloody bird was everywhere, always had been, not just near the mine site. In the very same edition, the Astonisher had lifted a piece by tired old Courier Mail click-baiter Des Houghton trying it on that the bird would become extinct, killed off by feral animals (cats and pigs apparently) if the Adani land set aside for its protection area DID NOT PROCEED. Ando is the far more believable in this face-off, rather than the Alan Jones-Lite Houghton, who didnt explain how the dreaded cats and pigs would be kept out of the protection area signage perhaps?. The finch has become our own native Scarlet Pimpernel: They seek him here, they seek him there, Those pollies seek him everywhere, Journos seek him near, they seek him far, Under sun and under star, They try so hard, but they try in vain, For he eludes them yet again. But Bentley was there to record a meeting between avian cousins to solve the mystery.

Then enter the obviously discombobulated Astonisher iditor Jenna Cairney, the very same Jenna who gave a good laugh in a recent iditorial when she insisted the Bulletin only did fair and balanced reporting. Deputy Premier The Treacherous Trad came to town to talk about flood recovery measures during the week, asking what could be best done for the victims, but the Astonisher wanted to talk about the Black Throated Finch. Trad swatted away a few weak attempts to engage on the matter, somehow judging that the governments flood recovery measures were surely the overriding topic of the moment. Boy, didnt that make Jenna stampn her feet in rage, she saw red, and fired off a blistering iditorial, suggesting, (topically if unfortunately), that we were being sold down the river which is where a fair amount of Townsville ended just a few days ago. But then, right in the middle of this foot stamping tantrum, this little thigh slapper popped up from nowhere.

A moment,please (gasp, wheeze, splutter ahem, sorry.) Leaving aside the absurdity of this virtue-signaling boast, this twaddle comes from an iditor who wagged a finger at those who have had the temerity to raise questions about the handling of the flood emergency.

Even your southern betters arent buying that one they can apparently walk and chew gum at the same time, handling more than one story at once heres just one instance from the Courier.

Heres a newsflash, dearie the days of outfits like the Bulletin being the gatekeepers of information are long gone, and you no longer set the news agenda. Some Say The Council Over The Years Has Had A Lack Of Vision Any inquiry into the handling of the flood is should not be restricted to just recent events themselves, but should surely delve back into council building policy and approvals over many years, to see why so many inappropriately designed structures, both private and commercial, were allowed to be built on clearly identified flood plains. A Nest read sent is a photo that might help explain the problem he believes this is the TCC building where these decisions were made.

Mayor Mullet Jumps On The Boycott Bandwagon Again Ms Cairney, under your newly announced tough question policy, any chance of asking Mayor Mullet about her bogan bluster that if insurance companies use southern tradies to do repair work in Townsville, she will name and shame them.

Even your own reporter, Clare Armstrong (the soon to join the Sydney Telegraph), described this piece of electoral grandstanding as extraordinary. Embarrassing empty threat might have been just as apt. Talk about Qantas boycott redux this implicitly means that your paper, Jenna, will have to be the mayors bully pulpit in this naming and shaming exercise of companies that are major News advertisers, going about their legal business funded by shareholders, and who couldnt give a fig about Mayor Mullet and her barroom style bluster. You OK with that? Or is there the odd tough question you might like to ask your pal the mayor? Naming and shaming? The bottom line, if it is followed logically, is that Mayor Jenny Hill is on the boycott bandwagon again, threatening to call for a boycott of companies who legally, if not morally, use outside tradies for whatever reason (like legally binding existing contractual arrangements). Given her shoot from the lip bravado over several issues recently, Mayor Mullets big stick is in reality a squizzle stick: she must have quite a supply of used lying about. And You Can Add Casual Racism To Her CV, Too Another shoot from the lip, when talking about the two blokes who drowned while ruinning from the police.

You cant pick your family members? What the hell does that mean? Judge Jenny at her best. Sorry, what was that? Oh, yeah, right, forgot, Palm Islanders dont have a vote in Townsville local elections Well, remember, all you other folks, you can choose your mayor soon, up to you. Ghosts Of Mates Past Coming Back To Haunt Bazza Taylor

Big Bazza Taylor As reported here recently, solicitor Barry Taylor was once briefly in business in Townsville with convicted briber Wayne Myers. During the week, Chief Judge Kerry OBrien gave Myers two and a half years in chokey, to be suspended after six months, for greasing the wheels of corruption with council and contractor officials in Ipswich.

As reported here recently, back in the early 2000s, Myers and Taylor tried to start a local teleco company with the council, with Barry charged with roping in local bizoids to pony up $20k each for the venture. The then Mayor Tony Mooney saw the scheme was a financial rip-off, and knocked it on the head. While hes living down that little episode, Bazza now waits to see how big will be the embarrassment of another of his erstwhile clients, Craig Gore. The question here is which will be the biggest embarrassment , Gore refusing to keep his promise to return from Sweden to face trial on multiple fraud charges, (how he was allowed to go only God and a Brisbane judge know), or if he does show up (ring Tab Extreme Bets for the odds on that), is found guilty and cops an expected dozen or more years for his grubby rip-offs. Gore was squired around town by Bazza also in the 2000s, while the shyster was spruiking the completely impossible canal estate scheme in front of the casino. To the best of The Pies knowledge, Taylor had no stake in the venture Gore was only here for a short visit but if Bazza had any sense of shame, he wouldve been red faced when all that turned to highly questionable shit. Probably not, since he only hosted the grub to brown-nose his Labor pals in Brisbane. Wonder if Baz will lead the defence in the unlikely event that Gore does return. Probably not, not at Bazs prices. Puppy Love It was Valentines Day during the week, and public mawkishness was all around, it was unavoidable. But then The Pie discovered that zoos around the world they all regularly stay in touch to talk shop had decided that their animals had been left out of the annual love fest long enough. From San Diego to Sydney, to London and all points around the globe, this was the very punny result.

Lets get straight to the point anyone want a shag?

Stop! Youre making me tawny!

Talk birdy to me.

So glad we could support each other on this day, because as they say love is a cattlefield.

Of course I mean it! Id love you to the baboon and back.

Alpaca my bags.

May our love never tapir off.

Seal-iously, we think youre all keepers. A Warning Sign In These Trouble Financial Times

And our gallery of the week from Trumpistan

Finally The Pie normally likes to leave you laughing with a parting joke, but lets break from that rule this week, and ask you to think about this emotive tweets rarely penetrate the Magpie necessary cynicism , but, perhaps because he the father of a daughter, this one hit home for the old bird. Simply but shatteringly highlights the horror of being a school kid America, and the damage being done to an entire generation. It also shows why we are a far saner and safer society, natural disasters and all, here in Australia. A mother in Delaware tweeted this during the week. So my kids school had a genuine lockdown today. Some whack job called in a bomb threat Police came and everything was fine, Thank God! My guys seemed fine when they got home and they talked about it with me, and told me their versions of what happened and then went right into their homework and normal after school stuff, and all seemed fine. It wasnt until later when Vanessa was changing out of her school uniform that I saw this on her arm.

I say to her, why did you write that on your arm?She says, in case the bad guy got to us and I got killed, you and daddy would know that I love you, and she started to cry (as did I as I watched a little piece of her innocence get stolen away) To know that my 7yo was put in a position to think that thought is absolutely gut wrenching and its killing me inside.Its now been a couple hours, and I cant seem to shake this awful feeling, feeling of sadness, fear, and plain disgusts for this new normal our kids have to deal with on any given day..its a very scary and disturbing society we now live in, and its heartbreaking It certainly is. What have they wrought? Its unfathomable. .. A tumultuous week gone, and all The Magpies thoughts to those getting their life back together. Have your say about anything on the blog comments, they run 24/7. http://www.townsvillemagpie.com.au/solicitor-barry-taylors-former-business-mate-gets-two-and-a-half-years-in-the-jug/