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pluto44 · 6 months

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ALTERNATE ENDING / WHAT IF?

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Lucy Gray

Warnings: none? just Snow being Delusional

Summary: Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray leave district 12. What kind of trouble might they run into?

Authors Note: Hii!! this is my first time writing anything like this. I wrote this after watching the movie and wanted more from Lucy and Coriolanus!! so i wrote this for fun. I’ve only watched the hunger game movies so some of this might seem out of character to the book readers out there? this is more of a what if? kind of fic. I changed a few of the details so that Coriolanus and Lucy would end up together. But don’t worry Coriolanus will still be jumping to conclusions, just for different reasons. anyways please enjoy, and i’m open to constructive criticism. i’d also like to know if you guys would like for me to continue writing more for this fic between Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray?

Word count: 1670

“You know what I won't miss? people” he muttered.

“People aren’t so bad,” she looks at him. “It's what the world does to them, like all of us in the arena. i think there’s natural goodness born into us all”Coriolanus let out a sardonic laugh.

“No really,” Lucy says. “you either cross that line, into evil, or not. and it’s our last work to stay on the right side of that line.”

Coriolanus shook his head. “it’s not always that simple.”

“I know. I'm a victor” she smirkes.

Coriolanus stops behind her, picking up and examining a pile of wood. Lucy walks ahead of him.

“Sure would be nice to not have to kill anyone else up north though, huh?” she grinned.

“Threes enough for me.”

Lucy stops in her tracks. “you killed three…? Who's the third?”

“what?”

“ The person you killed Coriolanus. you said you killed three people i only know about two."

He steps towards her. “Can you help me get this off?” attempting to change the subject.

“Do not lie to me.” They both stand there for a moment. Both waiting for the other to respond.

“there was bobbin in the arena and mayfair. So who's the third?”

He takes her chin into his hand, tilting it upward. “my old self. I killed him so I could come here with you.”

The rain was pouring. Coriolanus suggested that he and Lucy should stop at the cabin to wait out the storm.

“We’re gonna need food and we can catch some fish while we’re here”

“There's some rods under the floorboards if you wanna.”

“these ones?”

“mhm” she nods.

opening them up Coriolanus freezes. Staring straight at him were the guns the mayor had everyone looking all over for.

Lucy takes notice of his change in demeanour.

“what is it?”

“it’s the gun” he lets out a small sigh in relief, picking one of them up.

“the one you fired at mayfair. spruce must’ve known about this place. if you destroy that gun you're free. you can go back home. will you?” she says nervously, afraid of his answer.

Coriolanus takes a moment, admiring the gun in his hands. “no more loose ends” he smirks.

“besides me.”

His head shoots up. “Besides you? you wouldn’t tell anyone.” he chuckles.

“of course not” she nervously smiles. silence fills the room before Lucy breaks it.

“ i’m just gonna go dig up some katnis” she says, quickly opening the door again.

“Lucy Gray” he calls out.

“But it’s still raining?”

“Well I'm not made out of sugar”

Grabbing her coat and a knife she hurriedly runs out the door.

Coriolanus stands there for a moment, thinking to himself.

“Why was she acting so different?”

Lucy Grays POV.

I ran. I ran until my lungs felt like they’d burst and my legs felt numb. My vision was blurred, i didn’t know why until i realised i was crying.

My legs started to slow, making me push them harder. I didn't want to stop, but my body was forcing me to, until I came to a complete Halt.

Coriolanus was lying to me, and I don’t know why. I crouched down trying to catch my breath through my broken sobs.

“I can’t trust him. I don’t wanna leave Coriolanus, but why was he lying to me? Why? Why?” I thought to myself.

I sat against a tree so I could rest. I let the rain hit my face as I stared off into the woods, feeling completely numb.

End of POV.

When the rain started to subside Coriolanus began to wonder what was taking Lucy so long.

“She looked like she was in a hurry,” he thought to himself.

“Was she angry with me? Maybe she needed my help?… or what if she somehow fell into the lake?… or Maybe the mayor traced us here, and they found Lucy.”

Coriolanus was on edge. The thought of Lucy running into trouble without him being there made his heart ache.

Images of Lucy struggling and calling out for him flashed through his mind. Trying to find a more rational reason for why Lucy Gray was taking so long, was now out of the question. He finally had enough and swung open the door, with determination and his gun in hand.

“Lucy Gray?” He called out

“Lucy Gray where are you”

He looked towards the Lake looking for any ripples. Any signs of lucy. But none.

“Hello!” He yelled out walking deeper into the woods.

“Hey has something happened? because if something happened we can talk about it!”

“Are you hiding from me?”

*Silence*

“Luc-“

He cut himself off, taking sight of the bright orange scarf he gave to her. Fear washed over him.

“What if something happened to her?” He thought to himself.

He bent down picking the scarf up, when a snake appeared from under it. Biting him.

“Uughh!” He winced in pain.

“Lucy Gray!” he called out again. but he was met with silence.

Coriolanus was beginning to spiral.

“how could i let this happen.” he thought to himself.

All he could do was laugh in disbelief. While grasping at his head attempting to ground himself.

tears trickling down his face as he slowly pickes the scarf up off from the ground, and he puts it up to his nose, deeply inhaling the rose scent left by his mother.

“Someone must’ve hurt Lucy Gray. My Lucy Gray.” he thought to himself.

Coriolanus was angry with himself, Lucy Gray was all he had at the moment. After all of the lengths he went through to insure her safety, he failed.

*crack* The sound of a branch snaping caught his attention.

He quickly stood up, grabbed his gun and pointed it in the direction of the sound. slowly he stepped forward holding his breath. Anticipation weighing on him.

*crack* that sound again, but coming from a different direction.

He caught glance of someone running. He couldn’t make out who it was but all he could think about was Lucy Gray. So he pulled the trigger.

A scream followed by a loud thump from the direction his gun was pointed.

Coriolanus ran towards the sound. Not knowing who it could be. But he stopped.

“Lucy Gray?” his face went pale.

“Get away from me!” she yelled at him holding the wound on her left thigh.

He quickly gets on his knees to help, but she refuses.

“No! please” she pushes his hands away, forcing distance between them.

“Let me help you Lucy Gray please”

He reaches out his hands putting them on top of hers to apply more pressure and she winces.

“Ok, just keep a tight hold on your thigh like this, alright?” He looks up at her for her assurance, and she complies and hesitantly nods.

Coriolanus carefully picks Lucy up and begins to move

quickly.

“I'm so sorry Lucy Gray, I didn't know what I was thinking”

Lucy tightly shuts her eyes, groaning in pain.

“we’re almost there Lucy Gray just hold on.”

Approaching the cabin, Coriolanus kicks the door open, not wasting any time and carefully sets Lucy onto their shared bed.

He runs to his bag bringing it over to the side of the bed as he crotches down, levelled with her wound.

“Let me see” he says, reaching towards her hand before she flinched away.

emense guilt began to wash over Coriolanus as he looks down.

“I can't help you if you won’t let me touch you, Lucy Gray.”

She looks away from him facing the wall.

He sighs. “I'm so sorry. I don't want you to be afraid of me... Will you please look at me?”

She turns her head towards him in frustration.

“Who was the third?”

“what?”

“who. was. the third. Coriolanus.” her voice shook with anger.

“Tell me who else you killed, and I'll let you help me.” tears began to well up, as she tried to hold back her sobs.

Coriolanus’s head drops down to the floor. Silence filled the room as Lucy waited for his answer. Then he finally spoke.

“Sejanus,” he mumbled.

Lucy looks at him confused. “but he was hung at the hanging tree-“

“because of me.” he blurts out.

“I-.” he cuts himself off trying to find the words.

“I couldn't save him.… he was calling out for me. He needed my help and i stood there and did nothing. ” He says as he buries his head into the mattress while he grips Lucy’s dress, his knuckles turning white.

Her eyes soften. “His death wasn’t your fault Coriolanus. there is nothing you could’ve done differently that could’ve saved him.” she says caressing the top of his head with her free hand.

“I'm so sorry for doing this to you Lucy Gray.” he looks up at her.

She takes in a deep breath switching her tone of voice . “Let’s not talk about that right now. you’ve still gotta patch me up” she anxiously smiles.

“No Lucy.” Coriolanus stands up from the side of the bed and sits down next to her. taking her chin into his hand, and tilting it upwards he says, “What I did to you is unforgivable, and I'll spend the rest of my life making up for it.”

Lucy softens under his touch. Gently closing her eyes as he pulls her face closer to his. anticipating a kiss she holds her breath, but quickly pulls away.

“Lucy Gray.” he says softly, taking her face into his hands again.

“Open your eyes for me” he says, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

She takes a deep breath before slowly opening her eyes again, and is met with his.

“ I would never do anything to hurt you. you know that right." She nods her head slowly in agreement.

“good.” he pulls her in and their faces collide, melting into one another. Their lips moving with each other in sync. Lucy deepens the kiss eager for more. but he pulls away, leaving them both breathless.

“Now let me stitch you up.”

#the hunger games #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus x reader #fanfic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow #lucy gray x coriolanus #snowbaird #snow #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #tom blyth #coriolanus snow x reader #snow x reader

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sixohsixoheightfourtwo · 3 months

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tag game: 9 questions for 9 people

tagged by @phneltwrites one million years ago (december 2023)

last song: Tell You (Today) (original 12'' vocal) - Loose Joints . this is a disco deep cut that I heard for the first time the other day on twitter. anyway . really really good. i invite you to check it out if you enjoy a bop. go here for an absolutely wild 16-minute version described by the uploadeder as 'super wigged out and funky'.

currently watching: cooking crush. pit babe. the sign. (not up to date on any of these . Sigh.) khun chai (almost finished. love ittt). ossan's love 2018 (listen .... it's good actually). 1670 netflix. Treme (super underrated series about new orleans recovering in the wake of hurricane katria)

three ships: restricting this to the thai bl context 1. I gotta say both jiutian and tinncharn made me absolutely wild in the last few months so i think i have to include filmjam/jamfilm, tho I don't really have any thoughts on them themselves, haven't really engaged with any extra content, i juuuuust think they made good shows. 2. earthmix is probably the ship that I've ended up thinking about the most .. . the lore.....the lore ... !!! i simply cannot comment on this. 3. again i am transfixed by the LORE for OFFGUN....... they've prevailed they've traversed they've grown so much. hopefully they can continue working together for years to come. also you know what sneaky extra one. 4. forcebook. they just have a nice vibe!!! i like it when they hug after doing an emotional scene!!!!!!!!! i liked it when they yelled about their love for each other on top of that bungee jumping tower so sue me!!!!!!!

favorite color: green green green of the sludgy / earthy / olivey tones. I am getting big into earthy orange / terracotta as well.

currently consuming: turkish tea & halva

first ship: ok . how deep we gonna go. stuff I was reading in my early teens. martin / rose from the redwall books. (redwall was the first thing i Ever read fanfic for.) will / bran from the dark is rising. There's a surprising amount of fanfic for them! marcus / esca the eagle of the ninth. tbh several of those rosemary sutcliff books have these VERY intense masculine warrior bonds and it was uhh a Lot to process.

relationship status: n/a

last movie: leos carax, mauvais sang / the night is young

currently working on: wine qualifications!!!!!! honestly not that hard you just have to learn a bunch of stuff & also learn a particular framework to apply it. but also. like anything where you take an exam. you CAN mess up. & also applying for jobs that will work around this.

tagging the last 9 people in my notifs who didn't already get tagged in the last meme @waltermeadows @sirtomksy @luckshiptoshore @toranj @errantpixxi @heathyr @officialhagfish @annmariethrush @smashlampjaw

#2k23 the year we do the memes we are tagged innnn #tumblr life #tumblr memes #music #fandom life #alas i am doing this now bc im avoiding a more important task.#OH forgot to tag people. ok edited now. sorry people

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dresshistorynerd · 3 years

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An Introductory Timeline of Western Women's Fashion

I think a good place to start to get into dress history is general overview of the whole timeline. Understanding especially how the silhouettes change is really important ground knowledge to build the rest of the information on.

I'll start the timeline from Middle Ages and go till the first world war. I'll focus on upper class England/French sector, so keep in mind that before 17th century there were huge regional differences in fashion inside Europe and class differences too. There is a lot variance, changes and nuance inside any century and decade I'm about to discuss, but I'll try to keep this short and introductory and very simplified. I used a very scientific method of basically what makes most sense to me to divide the periods. I've made sketches what I would consider to be the basic silhouette of the period stripped mostly out of the detail and then I give couple of primary source examples.

12th century (Middle Ages)

Dress was simple one or more tunics over a chemise. They were overly long for upper classes, made out of straight lines. There were loose tunics often worn over another tunic, and tunics with laced bodice called biaut. In France bliaut sleeves often widened from the elbow, in England they often widened in frists.

13th century (Middle Ages)

Clothing was mostly very similar as in the previous century, though bliaut was mostly gone and new popular style was a loose sleeves surcoat.

14th century (Middle Ages)

Tailoring basically revolutionized clothing production, since clothes weren't made out of rectangles anymore and could be better made to fit form. Also functional buttons and lacing was popularized resulting in very fitted styles. The underlayer tunic, kirtle, became a fitted supporting layer.

15th century (Middle Ages)

Improvements in weaving technology and trade and growing prosperity in Europe showed in clothing as excess of fabric and variety of trends. Houppelande, a loose A-lined overdress lined with fur and fastened with a wide belt under chest, became a very popular clothing item, and in later decades developed into the iconic Burgundian dress (the red dress). Fitted overdress continued to be popular alongside the warmer houppelandes.

1500s-1550s (Tudor period)

In the renaissance era clothing became increasingly structured and elaborate. The bodice was heavily boned and the skirt was also structured.

1560s-1610s (Elizabethan Era)

Both structuring and elaborate decoration reach it's peak during Queen Elizabeth's reign. She became the defining fashion icon of the late renaissance.

1620s-1670s (Baroque)

In baroque era the bodice was still heavily structured, but more curved than the conical Elizabethan bodice. Otherwise though structuring was replaces with dramatic excess of fabric.

1680s-1710s (Baroque)

In the late 17th century there was a huge shift in the clothing industry as mantua, a loose open robe inspired by Japanese kimono, came to dominate fashion. Rigid bodice was replaces by structured under layer, stays. Stays brought back the conical silhouette of Elizabethan era.

1720s-1780s (Rococo)

Mantua developed into the iconic Rococo dress in France, robe à la francaise (first example picture), and in England robe à la anglaise with closed bodice. Rococo fashion was characterized by the wide silhouette of the skirt.

Since Tumblr won't accept more than 10 pictures per a post I'll have to continue in a reblog. So to be continued!

#fashion history #dress history #historical fashion #historical clothing #history #western fashion history #medieval fashion #renaissance fashion #tudor fashion #elizabethan fashion #rococo fashion #baroque fashion #timeline of western fashion

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narakurosaki · 3 years

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title: buckled

summary: ed returns from the west with one thing on his mind—making love to his fiancée. what neither of them had counted on, however, was the consequences of edward failing to properly maintain his automail.

or, ed and winry have sex and edward falls flat on his ass.

rating: m

words: 1670

read on ao3!

His hands roam the familiar planes of her body; the map etched into his mind from two years of exploration laid out before his mind’s eye. The colors have not faded, nor have the intricate details or the notes scribbled beside key areas. Kisses to the hollow of her throat make her squirm. Ghosting of his fingertips along the inside of her thigh result in whimpers. He knows the areas that, when given adequate attention, make her wet like the back of his hand. He knows that she enjoys his mouth on her nipples, accompanied by a gentle grazing of his teeth, and that the pad of his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves between her thighs makes her cry out his name. He could locate a certain spot inside of her that, when stimulated by either fingers or cock, makes her scream. No amount of time spent apart would eliminate the knowledge he had acquired from his memory, and he’d proven this, time and time again whenever he’d returned home from his travels in the west.

His hands grip her exposed ass, knuckles slamming into the wall upon every thrust. He’d been home all of two minutes before they began undressing one another. He’d heard that distance made the heart grow fonder, but he was beginning to believe that it served only to make his dick harder whenever he’d arrived home.

He’d buried it deep within her after tipping her over the edge with his tongue. She’d struggled to stay standing, and the bed was much too far for his liking, so he’d hoisted her into his arms and went to town. It was nothing new for them—her bed, the bed he’d slept in prior to their relationship, the shower, the tub, her workbench, the sofa, the kitchen counter, the basement, and various walls within the home; they’d fucked on or against it all. And while Edward proudly proclaimed that his favorite places had been the tub, the beds, and her workbench, Winry declared her love for being pinned against the wall. “It’s sexy,” she had told him one evening, legs wrapped around his waist, the smell of sex in the air. “Making love while you’re holding me up? You’re strong, Ed, and that’s incredibly hot.”

He’s lost himself to his most primal desires. Never in a million years had Edward Elric thought himself to become some sort of sex-crazed maniac, but his first experience had created a beast. He’d felt repulsed by his urges, ashamed of picturing Winry beneath him, clawing at his back as she moaned his name. But, one Wednesday morning, when Pinako had set off to run errands, and Al had tagged along, Winry had pounced. He’d been munching on a piece of toast when she’d backed him into the counter and kissed him. “You taste like strawberry jam,” she’d murmured against his lips, her fingers tangling themselves in his loose hair. He’d dropped his toast on the floor after that and grabbed her by the waist. She’d led him into her workshop and planted her ass on her workbench, where he’d promptly fucked her. It was then that he’d realized their sexual appetites matched one another; he had nothing to be ashamed of nor feel repulsed by. Winry wanted him just as much as he’d wanted her.

He’s close, and judging by the way her nails skid down his back (she’d certainly drew blood), she is, too. He captures her lips in a messy kiss, failing to maintain any sort of rhythm as he thrusts into her. Her body moves every time he pushes inside of her; her breasts bounce against his bare chest, her thighs squeeze his waist tighter, and her mouth detaches from his to cry out in ecstasy. He can feel the pressure building in his lower abdomen, his balls clenching as he brings himself closer and closer to release. Her inner walls squeeze his cock repeatedly, his name uttered like a chant. He needs but a few more thrusts to give her what she so desperately needs.

It’s on his third that she collapses into him, lips parted in a silent scream. The sudden shift in weight forces him to take a step backward, even as he reaches his climax. The world goes dark as his eyes shut. Stars explode behind his eyelids, his fingertips dig into her skin, and he moans wordlessly beside her ear. He feels his flesh leg weaken as his tense muscles begin to relax.

What he isn’t prepared for, however, is the buckling of his prosthetic.

His automail collapses beneath the weight of two individuals. Edward falls backward, landing on his ass with his dick still inside of Winry. He feels the tip forcefully press against her wall upon impact. Atop him, Winry moans, distinctively different from what noises she’d made just a moment ago.

She hangs her head and places her palms against his chest, muttering a soft, “Ow…”

He stares at her, bewildered. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

“I think… my vagina might be bruised…” Her blue eyes look up, and their gazes lock. She’s clearly vexed by the situation. “What… what happened?”

Beneath her, out of the focus of his vision, is his automail. The prosthetic lies straight as a board upon the wood flooring. Ed tries to bend his knee but is unable to. His pupils constrict, mouth contorting as he struggles to find the appropriate words. “Um,” he cups her cheek, a (possibly) futile attempt at calming the storm before it erupts. “My leg gave out.”

The words are slow to register for Winry. Edward observes her, as though he’s watching her work with the gears in one of her automail pieces, carefully testing each one to find the source of the malfunction. While she would grin and proudly state, “Got it!” when working with the metal, he is met with a much different response: her brow furrows, she frowns, and her eyes hold the annoyance she feels. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Oh, how he wishes he were.

He shakes his head.

Winry groans, this time irked. “See, this is what you get for not letting me check it, first.”

“Oh, like you were complaining.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s been months since we’ve seen each other. Forgive me for wanting to have sex with my fiancée.”

Her upper lip is pulled into a snarl. “A routine check-up wouldn’t—”

“Take long? Yeah, yeah. Thirty minutes isn’t exactly long, but it’s long enough that my balls will start to hurt!”

“You’re being dramatic.”

He’s prepared to throw his hands in the air but opts against it. Truth be told, ten minutes would make his balls hurt beyond belief; it was extremely rare that he and Winry had forgone the physical act of love when both of them wanted it, no matter how busy they may be. And, out in Creta, he could simply jerk off in the shower, if need be. “You try having a dick and balls and doing nothing when you’re hard. We’ll see how you like it.”

Her eyes widen, a scoff tumbling past her lips. “Oh, so you don’t think having a vagina is just as difficult? The clitoris gets erect, genius! It aches just as much as your stupid testicles.”

“You don’t think they’re stupid when you’re touching them…”

Her face reddens. “God, you’re such a child! You lose an argument so you say something stupid to make yourself feel better.”

She unwinds her legs from his waist, moving into a straddling position, and pushes herself up. He falls out of her, still somewhat erect. They both stare at it for a moment before Winry groans and rolls her eyes. “I was really looking forward to you staying inside of me while we cuddled, but, no! You had to go and break your damn leg.”

He gapes at her. “Oh, like I did this on purpose?!”

She snatches the button-up shirt she’d removed from his body earlier and shrugs into it. As she works on fastening the buttons, she says, “You could’ve maintained it better!”

Sadly, he couldn’t argue. He’d slacked on oiling the joints.

She opens the door and beckons him to follow. “Come on, let’s fix it before I change my mind.”

“Change your mind?” He blinks, pushing himself off of the ground and onto his flesh leg. He leans against the wall as he hops in her direction. “When have you been known to change your mind about fixing someone’s automail?”

“Oh, don’t push your luck.” She helps him from the wall the positions herself beneath his arm, wrapping her own around his waist to support him. “I never had an idiot fiancé until now.” She sighs. “Of course I had to fall in love with the man who is known to neglect his automail and has the sex drive of a teenager.”

Edward purses his lips. “We’re both eighteen, y’know. Still technically teenagers.”

“You expect to magically lose your libido when you turn twenty?”

“Well, no. It’ll probably stay the same for the rest of my life. How could it not when I get to have sex with the most beautiful woman in the world?”

Even after two years of being in a relationship, he could still make her blush. “Now you’re just buttering me up to make up for bruising me on the inside.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs.

“Sheesh. Leave it to me to—”

“Fall in love with a weirdo, yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it many times before. But,” Winry leads him to the examination table where he takes a seat, “this weirdo loves you.”

“This weirdo is also going soft with his condom still on during his spur-of-the-moment maintenance appointment.”

He flashes a toothy grin as he removes the condom, ties it, and tosses it in the wastebasket across the room.

“Ew, Ed! This isn’t our bathroom! I have patients that come in here!”

All he can do is laugh.

#edward elric #winry rockbell #edwin #edward x winry #edward/winry #my fics #lmao here have this

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im-the-punk-who · 4 years

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Can you explain how a slave revolt in the Bahamas could have changed the history of America?

HELLO ANON FROM LIKE FOUR MONTHS AGO! I kept meaning to go back to this and then uhhh forgetting to do that. (Also thank you for indulging me and sending this sort-of-directly-asked-for-question lmao)

So. Here’s a brief overview of how a successful slave revolt like in Black Sails could have changed the history of not just America, but the entire world. And quite, well - easily - had the circumstances in Black Sails presented themselves.

First off, standard disclaimer that this is all conjecture based on my own research and knowledge of both history and Black Sails. It isn’t meant as a takedown of anyone else’s views, or the character’s actions. The strongest I would call this is a wishful critique of the choices the writers made to include the things they did in the way they were included, and the way those same writers chose to end the story they chose to tell. And maybe, a little bit, a frustration of how the inevitability of american history is used as a given in fandom to defend certain character’s actions - but it is not meant to invalidate the reasons behind those actions. Just to point out that those reasons were more emotionally than factually driven (Which is cool! And very real to the kinds of tragedies that play out in real life revolutions! Vive le realismé!)

Also quite obviously I’m not a professional in any way. I was eating soup from a can as I wrote this. I am now eating cookies for dinner. I am writing this because it’s fun for me. It’s fun!! If deep thought-experiment type analysis of media isn’t your cuppa, that’s fine - you can keep scrolling.

I’ve included major historical events from 1700-1740 since that is the general time period that Black Sails draws its history from. In particular, most of the later seasons’ historical references come from the 1730s. While I’ve tried to be as thorough as possible...there are so many ways history could have been changed by a tiny action that it would be impossible to cover them all. For brevity, I’m focusing on the history of the Bahamas, the Caribbean, and Colonial America. I’ll touch on other places as is relevant but like......it’s world history for a reason.

Okay, here goes.

So first and foremost, to understand how it’s destruction could have changed America, you really need to understand just how much economic power chattel slavery gave colonial empires and England in particular.

Slavery was the most important economic force in Colonial England, and not just in what the slaves produced. The slave trade itself was the most lucrative business in existence at the time. If you want to learn more about that, I highly recommend listening to this podcast, which does an excellent job of explaining how the economic buying and selling and bonding of slaves was of such value to colonial empires. This is important because the most powerful contemporary argument for the continuation of slavery was that it “could not be ended in the Americas until there was certainty that it wouldn’t create social or economic irritation.” (Thomas Jefferson, 1783.)

(Slavery in itself is not something that was unique to the british empire or even the Imperialist governments that created it. Most cultures have had some form of slavery. However, this was not the type of generational slavery that colonial empires employed. In most cases before the 1400s, slaves were not kept slaves solely based on the color of their skin - they were war prisoners, criminals, or debtors. In most cases, slaves could work to buy their freedom, and most importantly, slavery was not an inherited state that passed from parent to child.

What we think of in terms of colonial slavery is chattel slavery - which is the kind of slavery Europeans imposed on Africans starting in the fifteenth century. These slaves could not buy their freedom. They were viewed as property instead of human beings based on their race and their children were automatically enslaved in the same way they were. They were mistreated, and viewed as subhuman, without any chance of escaping the bonds which had been forced upon them.

Because of this new type of slavery that started in the colonial era, Europeans needed to justify why they were entitled to own other people as slaves. They needed to convince themselves and other people that there was some moral justification for chattel slavery. This is what led to all the myths of ‘happy’ servitude, racial inferiority, and any ‘benefits’ slavery imparted to slaves. These were all lies created by philosophical thinkers and plantation owners and politicians that let settlers convince themselves they were not committing crimes of immense magnitude against other human beings. For much of the colonial era, these were the norm in thinking and their vestiges still linger today. But these were used to justify slavery because of how important it was economically.

And of course there were always dissenters. Since slavery was first introduced to the colonies there were people who knew that this sort of treatment was just not very gucci. These people argued that slavery went against the very nature of a ‘just’ society. That benefitting off the mistreatment of other human beings was akin to spiritual robbery, and that “European colonies should be destroyed rather than create so many unfortunates!” (Louis Jaucourt, 1754). With your goddamn motherfucking chest Jaucourt. The Quakers of Pennsylvania were strong proponents of abolition since the 1670’s! James Oglethorpe(yes, that Oglethorpe) himself was a staunch abolitionist who went as far as to make slavery illegal in Georgia when he formed the colony in 1733.

The economic power of slavery was used as a justification to keep it intact for hundreds of years and many colonists were happy with this, but it’s important to remember that not everyone was. England and the colonists were far from unanimously in support of the practice. This becomes important later! Like, this is the basis for the whole argument of how a drawn out war in the Bahamas could have ended slavery and changed colonial imperialism.)

OKAY NOW THAT WE’VE GOT THAT COVERED.

Now let’s go to the people it affected. Enslaved black people have been fighting against their enslavement since they were taken from their homes and brought across the Atlantic in the 15th century. Starting in the 1700s, slave revolts started to see more and more success in these efforts, until in the late 1700s and early 1800s public opinion of slavery finally dropped enough that it was outlawed in the colonial empires of England and France. In the years of 1700-1740, there were several rebellions in the North American area including:

1712 New York Slave Revolt (British Province of New York)

1730 Chesapeake rebellion (British Chesapeake Colonies)

1733 St. John Slave Revolt (Danish Saint John)

1739 Stono Rebellion ((British Province of South Carolina)

1741 New York Conspiracy (British Province of New York)

And of course,

1728-1739 First Maroon War (British Jamaica)

This is the war which the war in Black Sails is based on. The treaty that was offered by Woodes Rogers in Black Sails is almost word for word(minus the pirates bit) the treaty offered to the Leeward Maroons in this war. There are references to the factions in this war and even some of the historical people involved in it. The major difference? The Maroon war was successful. The Maroons were so good at warfare on their turf that the British were unable to sustain any major victories against them. After ten years they offered the Maroons a treaty granting them governmental agency(although not independence). In return, the Maroons agreed to return any escaped slaves back to the British, and to help the British fight off “invaders”. The Leeward maroons led by Cudjoe(Julius, in Black Sails) took this offer to avoid more fighting because he believed in an honorable peace with the enemy. Queen Nanny and her Windward Maroons(The Maroon Queen and Madi in Black Sails) refused because like....bruh those terms suck. After a year she was pressured into relenting by Cudjoe, but within thirty years the Maroons had started another war, dissatisfied with how the treaty was being carried out.

(This is Queen Nanny. And yes, she is better than you.)

I also need to mention that Africans were not the only ones in North America hurt by British Colonialism, nor the only ones for whom abolition and an end to colonial empire was attractive. The Native Americans were also a constant frustration to the colonies, and, because it’s relevant to later things, I want to mention one incident in particular:

The Yamasee War (1715-1717)

The Yamasee were a Lower Creek tribe that lived in what is today Georgia/Florida. The war was fought over a bunch of different things, including trading systems and colonists depleting the game in the area, but also because of the colonists’ nasty habit of trying to enslave Native American people. Bummer. So a bunch of tribes(and I mean a bunch - there were Shawnee and Cherokee factions, as well as about half a dozen other distinct nations that joined in the fight in sort of that loose ‘hey you hate these guys? we hate these guys!’ way.)

Long story short, this war was a pretty significant factor in the colonists in the South not enslaving(outright) Native Americans anymore, and instead increasing the import of African slaves to the south. After this war the Yamasee split into two factions, one anti-colonist and one pro-colonist. The pro-colonist people called themselves the Yamacraw, and it was these people who granted Oglethorpe(yes, that Oglethorpe) the land which he used to found Georgia. Moral of the story, alliances between abolitionists and indigenous tribes were already in place in the colonies. Just waiting for a chance to be used.

(Tomochichi, the leader of the Yamacraw and very cool accessorizor)

(Yet ANOTHER thing to keep in mind is that before the end of the 18th century, both Haiti and Grenada would see major revolutions against their colonial empires. Slaves in all provinces and colonies were continually fighting for their freedom. What they lacked was a unifying force that supplied them enough power and cohesion to fight the empire man-to-man, so to speak.)

SO. INTO THIS SCENE, ENTER JAMES FLINT - ANGRIEST OF MLM SCALLYWAGS AND TACTICIAN EXTRAORDINAIRE.

(So cute.)

Anyway, the Golden Age of Piracy was largely over by the early 1720 - most of the pirates of Nassau took Rogers’ pardon and reintegrated as citizens of society. That or they like....died. A lot of them died. Gruesomely. Nasty business, piratry. So, if we assume that in Black Sails’ history that Flint and Silver managed to convince the Maroons to rebel ten years earlier, join with the pirates who did not want to assimilate, and start a revolution; now instead of two separate wars Britain is now fighting one much bigger, nastier, more expensive one.

Backed by people with a good deal of money at their disposal. Cha-ching.

Keep in mind that Britain had already been at war for almost thirty years with first the Glorious Revolution and the Jacobite risings(1688-forever) and the War of Spanish Succession(1701-1714). Their resources had already been depleted. And this was why the American colonies(and India) had become so important to them. Remember what I said about the economic importance of slavery? It’s because Brtitain was using the slave trade to refill its coffers after an extensive and costly military campaign.

So now, this new war is not only putting an additional drain on the empire’s resources before Britain has had a chance to replenish itself but it is also taking away the very source of income needed to replenish itself. (Since the war would target places heavy with slave trading.) In addition, the pirates handed a significant defeat to the British Navy that ended with the Navy retreating - turning tail and running from the island. This was actually a huge victory and one that was sort of downplayed in the show but would be incredibly significant in the event of a long campaign.

Rogers is not taking Nassau with the full support of Britain. He is only fighting with the traitors who did not return when the Navy withdrew. That is why he has to go to Spain in the first place.

The show has also told us that this rebellion is already starting to be widely known - pirates and slaves from Barbados, the Bahamas, as far as Massachusetts are coming to aid the rebellion in the hopes of freedom. This is not a small thing.

Even with the loss of the Walrus and most of the Walrus crew, there are still thousands of fighters on the Maroon Island. Slaves, mainland pirates - the defeat of the Walrus was a personal defeat but in the grand scheme of a larger war it was a small loss in what was ultimately a huge victory.

Rogers has been squarely defeated. Because of that, they now have Nassau as a base. The war now has two strongholds - one protected by the forest and one protected by a fort - into which they can store supplies, retreat, and organize attacks from. If they can free the rest of the slaves on the island of Nassau and either oust or convert the puritans, all the better.

The war at the point Rogers is defeated was far from a never-ending thing. In fact I would say that Flint is absolutely right - they are incredibly close to a decisive victory. England cannot afford to muster a large enough force to defeat two entrenched enemies working together - especially ones as well financed as we’re led to believe the chest would make the Maroons and Pirates. Even if Britain could somehow convince Spain and/or France to join them, both of those nations have also been severely depleted by wars of their own. And again, the more nations that Britain brings in, the more potentially disaffected people could be brought in to join the pirates(see, Haiti and Grenada specifically, both of which were French colonies at the time, and the Spanish colonies of Cuba, Puerto Rico, etc).

So from here, the smartest thing for the rebellion to do would be to hit large plantations: to both free the slaves and cripple Britain’s economy. Make slavery more costly to enforce than it is profitable to sustain, and build their numbers for the war as well, as well as like, you know, freeing slaves. Make it so that Britain could not sustain the cost of trying to fight it - as James said all the way back in 1705. Force a surrender on economic grounds.

So now, the power behind the empire has been broken. Even assuming a modest victory, the course of the entire world - not just the Americas - has changed. In victory, let’s say the Bahama/Caribbean islands are freed from British rule. Slavery in the americas will also never be able to get the foothold it does, historically.

With a free nation actively willing to target slave plantations and ships sitting between it and Africa, the colonial slave trade is finished. Now sure, they could use the existing slaves, but it would be oh-so-easy for the Pirates and Maroons, alongside their hopeful new Native and abolitionist allies, to target large plantations and cripple them.

If slavery never gets a foothold in the south, northern colonies never build the banks and mills and economic powerhouses that profit from the cheap produce, and most find another way to survive. Perhaps, if we’re going really all out, they start working with the native americans - learning ways to cultivate and grow crops with the land and in balance, rather than clearing thousands of acres for damaging cash crops.

I want to be really, really clear about this because it is incredibly important. Without slavery, the British empire would not have bee able to sustain itself. It would not have the power. And the more it tried to tax the colonists to recoup its losses, the angrier those people were likely to get, and perhaps join the Maroons and Pirates, or perhaps evens start the american revolution early - maybe even with the help of the newly independent Jamaican/Bahaman island nations.

This break in the power of colonial empires would shift world history into something unrecognizable as we know it. The empires would still exist, of course, but they would be set on their heels - France and Spain would see what happened to Britain and be less inclined to keep slavery legal in their own colonies. Power is split more evenly among the world, and indigenous and black/African nations are not wiped out in genocidal bids for power.

Which brings me to India. If the Indian rebellions learned of what happened in America and the Bahamas, or if america had drained enough of britain’s resources that the British East India Trading Company was not able to be as controlling of the area, this could have meant independence centuries earlier, as well as a much easier path to independence. Think about what could have been if the Indian people had been able to oust a struggling empire from its shores an entire century before it historically did.

(This bad boy is Mangal Pandey, who led the first major Indian revolution in the mid 1800s. In the movie adaptation his boyfriend best friend is played by Toby Stephens so I’m connecting the dots.)

Once the colonies of America and India are gone, Britain loses almost the entirety of its colonial power. (And this isn’t even including all the smaller colonies which could cloak their own independence in these big revolutions and the lack of (as much) of an indigenous genocide in many of these places. The economic disparity that defines Black experience in places that the British colonial system touched never gets a hold, and they are able to build their own economies in ways that benefit them and the places they live.

Think about the wealth of culture in ALL nations that would not have been destroyed, had Britain not been allowed to swallow whole swaths of land whole.

And, look. I know this is fiction. I know that of course, none of this happened, and that Black Sails is a fictional landscape. I know that so many things could go differently than I imagine them. I know that to extrapolate like this relies heavily on actually caring about a world that is completely different from ours and envisioning how that could come about.

I also know, that it is just as important to tell these sorts of stories as telling stories about how small acts could have changed things immensely, as it is to tell them about how society must stay the same. It is just as important to tell stories about ‘what if colonialism were able to be stopped’ as it is to tell dystopian stories about the end of the world. It may not be as much fun, but it is important to remember that our power doesn’t lie an indiscernible amount of time in the future, after the world has already gone to shit. It lies with us, right now. And that even if it is hard to see, our actions have the power to shape history.

#annyway have a BUNCH OF FEELINGS AND HISTORICAL FACTS BUNDLED TOGETHER AS FANDOM META #black sails #milos black sails meta #black sails and colonialism #james mcgraw #madi scott #uhhhhhhhh #historical meta #IDK MAN WHAT TO TAG THIS JUST INDULGE ME AND READ IT LMAO #long post #god i hope the readmore works lmao #Anonymous #black sails meta

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bestworstcase · 3 years

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yeeeeah baby ive always thought caine/cass should have been more of a thing in the fandom i am SO glad that ur really fully diving into them in bitter snow ... ur truly a visiony ... cass deserves to kiss all the women ! specially those who kinda annoy her a little bit. also if i may ask, what exactly was the nature of moiras relationship w cornain ... 🤔 if its not too spoilery !

i love Them 🥺

as for cornaīn! they vaguely knew each other growing up but were in no way close—it was just a, neasa dragged moira along to significant henge holidays and she and cornaīn were approximately the same age and both mischievously inclined so they’d play/get into trouble/hang out together a couple times a year until they were about 15 (which is the age moira was when she decided she wasn’t about church really, and stopped going). and then they fell out of touch for a while until tath died in 1669 (~4 years ago), prompting cornaīn to head to alcorsīa; her plan was to join the separatists but she just…coincidentally bumped into moira instead. cornaīn at this point was very much a mess and moira was really shocked to hear that tath had died (tath again being someone she kinda knew and was kinda friends with as a kid but was never close to)

so that’s the point where they really. hit it off. cornaīn ended up joining the zampermin’s crew instead of the separatists because moira was a sailor on it and the familiarity of having someone who also knew tath was really comforting i think? so they got pretty close and within a year had tossed the old captain (who i think was kind of a shithead) and took over the ship themselves. cornaīn (who unlike moira was very devout) played a big role in helping moira um. coax?? the ship, because basically it won’t fly if it doesn’t like the captain and they had to first win it over and then figure out how to make the flying magic. work. so between that and just the fact that they both adored sailing and loved the sea in general i think they got really close really fast.

so the timeline is basically… they meet again in 1669, are both on the zampermin by the end of that year, mid-1670 they toss the old captain and caine takes over as the captain with cornaīn as her first mate, early 1671 they figure out the flying, rest of 1671-1672 they go hard with the piracy and specifically target a lot of coronan prison barges to liberate people from those… and like late 1672 cornaīn is killed during one of those raids and moira is GUTTED. brings her back to socona and has a very nasty falling out with sirin. a little over a year later now in late 1673 (ie the present) she is still grieving and still carrying around a lot of guilt and questions about like, if she hadn’t picked that ship that day, could things have turned out different etc. the rest of the crew is also mourning or missing cornaīn in varying degrees; i think she got on pretty well with all of them. (pocket has big shoes to fill 😔)

so… that. they weren’t ever romantically inclined toward each other i don’t think; loose childhood acquaintances who re-met in their early twenties and bonded hard and became best friends.

#bitter snow

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cannedapricot · 5 years

Text

winter sun.

in which a boy who resembles the summer sun waltzes into your life on a cold winter’s day.

word count: 3.4k of fluff and slice of life again because i’m unable to write anything else kms

The first time you encountered Lee Donghyuck was on a day where little white ice crystals fell from the grey sky, tossing and turning in the air until they eventually came to a halt, falling on top of one another as they rest on the man made roads.

Even the trees were shivering in the temperature. They shook their bare branches every time someone moved passed them with heavy steps, ridding themselves of some of the freezing snow that built up on them overnight.

Shuffling along the snow strewn walkway, you attempted to nuzzle your red, numb nose further into the red, thick scarf that you had tightly wrapped around your neck. It was a gift from your grandma for Christmas, a set along with the red gloves and beanie hat from the multiple holiday seasons before. The color choice was bright and obnoxious, contrasting against the plain, white background you were walking through in order to get to your destination.

You scowled as your scarf loosens up and gets caught on the bag on your back, exposing the tiniest bit of your neck to the cold. Pulling your covered hands out of your coat pockets, you clumsily readjusted the woolen armor that was fending you from the bite of winter, making sure that it won’t come loose again on your journey.

A puff of hot air escaped your lips as you quickened your pace, wanting to escape the tormenting weather as soon as possible. As much as you loved snow, the temperature forced you inside for many of the cold days, cowering before the crackling fireplace.

The glass door creaked open as you pushed on it. It was as if it was whining about the weather with you. Letting out a sigh of relief at how warm the interior of the small, local coffee shop was, you make your way towards the back table, where two of your friends were already seated.

“Good Morning, Y/N.” Jeno greeted. The boy’s eyes curves up into crescents at the sight of your nose matching the rest of your attire as you stumbled over to him.

You collapsed onto the old, bouncy sofa opposite him. It let out a low pitched wheeze at the sudden weight as Jaemin, the boy situated next to Jeno, raised an eyebrow at you in amusement.

“Matching your clothing pieces with your nose?” He asks jokingly, sliding the hot mug of coffee he had ordered for you across the table. You scoffed, prying the thick, knitted gloves off of your fingers. Which were also, a matching red.

“At least I won’t get lost in a snowstorm being this bright.”

Jeno laughed heartily at your retort, earning a weird glance from the group of middle aged women from the table over.

“Let’s get onto this stupid project now, shall we?” You said with a roll of your eyes. Though the small smile you had hanging off your lips gave it away that you didn’t feel annoyed at all.

You had thanked the gods when your history teacher told you that you could choose the people you worked with. You may as well loose your mind if your were put with Chenle and Jisung again. They were fun to be with, yes, but did they do any of the work? Nope. At least Jaemin and Jeno did work.

Pulling a sleek laptop out of the bag you heaved through the snow, you started the discussion about King Philip's War in the 1670s. It was as if the three of you fell through a wormhole once the research started. The warm smell of coffee beans that had once filled the air disappearing as you dived head first into the war between the English Colonists and the Native American Tribes.

None of you paid attention to the chiming of the bell against the door whenever someone trudged with a trail of snow in their wake, opting to joke around with each other during break times instead.

But when a soft, warm breeze floated through the open door instead of the usual harsh, winter wind, you couldn’t help but look up from the Wikipedia page you were on.

There, standing in front of the fragile glass door, stood a light haired male brushing snow off of his dark coat. The said person met the barista’s eyes and when a smile broke out on his face, you felt the whole temperature of the room rise.

“Hiya Mark, sorry I’m late. A snowstorm just kicked up outside.” He voiced, an almost honey-like sound filling the air before moving across to the counter. Mark, the part time barista you had gotten familiar with thanks to the many times you frequented this particular coffee shop, clicked his tongue before meeting his friend.

“I guess we’ll have to wait it out before leaving, huh?”

“Does this count as overtime? You should ask your boss and earn some extra cash.”

“Lee Donghyuck, my boss hesitates when we ask for our paychecks in advance, do you really think he’ll agree?”

“Lee Donghyuck.” You breathed, voice barely a whisper as you processed the name in your head. Snickers were suddenly heard from the boys right in front of you. Snapping your head to glare at them, you found them trying to hide their mouths behind their mugs.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, taking a sip of your own caffeinated drink.

“The fact that you’re staring so boldly.” Jaemin stated, a dumb smile you wanted to wipe off on his face.

“Also, it’s worth mentioning that the redness on your nose spread onto the whole of your face. It’s matching the scarf even more now.”

It was hard to stop yourself from pulling Jaemin into a headlock right then and there, so you settled for a kick to his shin. As your meddling friend hissed in pain with Jeno laughing into his latte, you felt a pair of eyes on you. Directing your eyes towards the direction, you wanted the creaky floorboards to swallow you whole in that moment. Because Lee Donghyuck had witnessed all of this with a sparkle in his eyes.

The second time you, encountered Lee Donghyuck was on an awfully dreary day. The sun must’ve had a fight with the moon that day because the heavens were crying, sending a heavy shower over your little town.

Fat tears fell with a dramatic plop, spreading themselves out on the pathways. Lucky ones met with their friends and formed a puddle together, reflecting the sky and reminding everyone with their eyes on the ground about the grey sky above.

It was days like this that made you crave instant noodles. So you took the chance when the clouds seemed like they were starting to calm down from their sobbing fit. You threw on your old, neon green raincoat, which helped very little against harsh rain, and decided to head out to your nearest convenience store.

You danced around the puddles of water, twisting and turning in order to save your sneakers and jeans from getting wet. The last thing you wanted was the gross feeling of clothing sticking to your skin when it could’ve been avoided.

A pleasant tune flowed from your lips as the dainty bell rang above your head, announcing your entrance to whoever was in the store during the humid weather.

The unknown song you were humming echoed throughout the mini mart, following your figure as you took your time browsing through the aisles. Your eyes light up the sight of your favorite brand of noodles being in stock before sweeping a bulk bag of five into your arms. Having the goods in your clutch, you make a beeline for the checkout, wanting to start eating as soon as possible.

“Hello, Y/N” The cashier, Renjun, greets as you appear in front of him. You nod in return to his greeting, attention taken by the Chupa Chups that were to the part-timer’s right.

“Were you planning to eat one here?” The Chinese boy asks, settling your food down into a plastic bag. You hum, answering positive to his question. Renjun’s brows then drew together in a crease.

“Unlucky, the rain’s really coming down hard now, our tables and chairs are soaked.”

“What?” You flipped your head around to observe the furniture placed outside, groaning at the sight of water droplets falling onto the smooth surface with no mercy. Your acquaintance pats your arm in pity, handing you your bag.

“I’ll have to wait it out, this stupid jacket won’t do anything against this rain.”

So you found yourself leaning against the brightly painted exterior walls of the twenty-four hour mart, seeking refuge under the slight overhang as the clouds laughed at your misery. You cursed the weather under your breath, looking up at the heavens with frown on your face. How dare they delay you from eating your warm meal.

A hooded figure that came splashing through the wet conditions suddenly caught your eye and you immediately rose up from your sulking position, eyes on the newcomer in curiosity. You felt a familiar rise in temperature as the hood came off and the person turned to smile brightly at you.

“Terrible day isn’t it?”

Your eyes turned into saucers as the pleasant voice canceled out the snickers of the harsh clouds above. The boy at the coffee shop had once again slid into your line of vision.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, stuttering to get the word out. Turning your eyes away from the beaming male, you cringed. Why did you stutter? Why did your voice barely come out louder than a whisper? Why did your ears feel as though they were on fire?

“Nice coat.” Lee Donghyuck mentions casually, glancing at the neon choice with a glint in his eyes.

“It’s just as bright as your scarf from the other day.”

Great. He remembers. You mentally start beating yourself up, why does the cutest boy in town have to catch you wearing the brightest clothes in your closet every time you meet.

A small smile spreads across Donghyuck’s face. You were embarrassed, it was obvious. The red ears, the way your face scrunched up in regret, it was endearing.

He’d love to get to know you more.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back.” He says, clumsily pulling his fingers out of the pockets of the thick, dark jacket. You watch, confused as he makes his way into the mart, waving to Renjun as he does. The temperature drops down again as he disappears.

Donghyuck appears again a few moments later, emerging from the little store with a neon green umbrella in his hands.

“It was the only one they had, I’m not teasing you, I swear.” The boy reminiscent of summer explains, pushing the metal branches up to reveal a frog design on the plastic. Donghyuck steps out into the rain, the frog above his head shielding him from the wet bullets. He motions for you to step under the children’s umbrella with him and because the rain didn’t look like it wanted to stop anytime soon, you did.

Shoulders brushing against each other under the small frog, you were granted a closer look at the breath-taking boy. A quick peek up past your lashes made you realize that the small moles that were spread on his left cheek and his neck formed a familiar constellation you’d see in the night sky. Just when you though he couldn’t get any more ethereal, he did.

“See something you like on my face?” He asks , craning his head to meet your eyes. There it was again, the familiar heat climbing up your neck.

“I- Uh-”

“You’ve been staring at me the whole time we’ve been together.” His lips rose up in a teasing smirk, adjusting the frog so your shoulder didn’t get wet.

“Yeah, well, there’s a constellation on your cheek, and people like looking at constellations formed by the stars.”

You were well aware that the babble you had stumbled out made little to no sense. If Jaemin and Jeno were here, they’d be on the floor laughing at your feeble attempts at conversation.

A rosy hue powders Donghyuck’s cheeks, something you would’ve noticed had you not been wallowing in self-pity.

“I’ll take that you mean you like looking at my face.”

The two of you exchange names and numbers at your doorstep (though you already knew his name), agreeing to meet up sometime soon. But as the frog turned back to defend his master from the attack of the rain once again, you noticed how wet his right shoulder was.

Your shoulders was perfectly dry.

The third, fourth, fifth and rest of your encounters were history. The two of you met up often during the last few weeks. You learnt how to hold a decent conversation with the man you oh so adored, you even introduced him to your friends.

“Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin and Jeno, meet Donghyuck. You can call him Hyuck if you’d like.”

“So this is the dude you’ve been gushing to me over text about?”

“Jisung, you better close your trap before I tape it shut.”

And though you didn’t need introducing, you also got close to Mark and Renjun, the people Hyuck claims are the “most closest things he’s got to friends”. Renjun had rolled his eyes at his claim, pulling his same aged friend into a choke hold.

“Yeah right, stop putting on a front, Hyuck. You’d do anything for us.”

You treasured the time you spent with the glowing boy, always feeling as though you were in the middle of summer vacation instead of the winter semester.

It wasn’t until one day, when the sky sent dainty little crystals down to visit Earth again, when you finally came clean with your feelings for the boy that made it feel like summer whenever he appeared.

It almost felt like deja vu. The sky seemed sick of crying everyday for the last week and, as if an apology, sent fairies that took the form of snowflakes to flutter down make up for the grey weather.

Frost gathered on your glass pane and tinkering sounds could be heard as the fairies bumped into the transparent surface. You watched from the warmth of your bed as a blanket of white started to settle over the town for the second time in a row. The snow fell softly, nudging itself into every nook and cranny. Contrasting against the soft, sparkling background, a hurrying figure that donned a bright red scarf caught your eye.

You blew you nose for what felt like the hundredth time within the hour before throwing the scrunched tissue into the bin, where a pile had been forming. It landed just as Hyuck burst into your cosy room, shaking stray snowflakes out of his coffee colored hair.

“Hyuck, my carpet’s gonna get wet.” You croaked between your sniffles, already reaching for another piece of tissue.

“I had to get the medicine to a certain bedridden person asap, didn’t have time to shake it all off before entering.” The boy you grown fond of states, unwrapping the thick scarf you had lent to him.

Scoffing, you hid a blossoming smile underneath the tissue you prepared to blow your nose in. Acting like you were annoyed, you said,

“Well, if a certain person didn’t start a snowball fight yesterday, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Hey! You definitely started it first, I saw you roll the first ball.” He retorted childishly, flinging the box of pills onto your lap. Shrugging off the same jacket he wore on the day you first met, he wanders off into your kitchen, returning with a glass of water.

“Take your medication then get some rest. I’ll go make some soup, yeah?”

You grunt in response, receiving the glass Donghyuck offered you gratefully. He ruffles your hair before shuffling out of your room, making sure to close the door softly behind him.

Obediently, after swallowing the tasteless pill, you snuggle back under your blanket and lull yourself into a dreamless sleep. Falling asleep in peace knowing that Hyuck was now out of the cold.

You awoke to Donghyuck gently shaking you, fluttering your eyes open to the boy sitting on the edge of your bed with steaming bowl of chicken soup in his hands.

“Good morning, your highness.” He says as you sit up, the bed creaking from the shift of weight.

“Care for some soup?”

Laughter fills the air as you reach for the ceramic bowl. Instead of passing the bowl to you, Hyuck spoons up some of the hearty liquid and presses it to your lips.

Hesitantly, you accept this offer, though you were arguing as you did.

“Hyuck, give me the bowl, I have hands!”

“You’re sick, I don’t want your shaky hands to spill what I’ve spent the last few hours on.”

“I’m a grown person-”

“Says the person who threw a snowball at me first.”

Pouting, you turn your gaze out the window in mock annoyance. Donghyuck blows on the next spoonful before bringing it in front of you again, afraid that it was still too hot.

Giving in, you allow your friend to spoon feed you and slowly, the bowl became empty. The second Donghyuck placed the bowl down, you pull him down onto the bed with you, screaming in joy as he yelled out in fright.

“What the hell, Y/N?!”

“If I’m sick, you’re getting sick with me!” You announced, rolling around with the boy still in your embrace.

“Let go, I’m warning you!” Hyuck exclaims before his hands wiggled against your sides, resulting in a hysterical laughter bubbling out of you.

The squabble continued on for a while, the two of you messing with each other until your seemingly endless energy finally gave out. Flopping back onto your mattress, the two of you laid side by side, taking in big breaths to calm down from the laughing fit.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever thought of dating anyone?”

Hyuck’s question caught you off guard. Your eyes widened and your breath suddenly gets caught in your throat.

“Of course I have, why?” You ask, propping yourself up to face him.

Donghyuck sits up and looks at the wall opposite the bed. He was fiddling with his t-shirt, bunching it up around his fingers and letting it loose again only to repeat the action.

“The person you think about dating, can it be me?”

His confession came out rushed, his voice unusually quiet and the air silent afterwards.

Again, you felt it. The burning ears, the reddening cheeks and the tingling neck. The feeling when you first met the golden boy, it was still there.

It never left.

So you crawled up in front of Donghyuck, cupped his equally burning cheeks and brought his face up to meet your eyes.

“I mean, you don’t have to give me a reply now, I just- I just want you to think about the possibility because I really, really like you and-”

“I’ve always thought you talked too much.” You giggled, placing your forehead against his.

“I’ll date you.”

It was felt his breath hitch and saw his eye widen, the gleam you’ve grown to love sparkling as he processed your words.

“Really? Oh my god, you don’t have to feel pressured just because I asked, I just saw Jaemin holding your hand the other day and got jealous and wanted you to think about me as well-”

“Shut up, Hyuck. I’m not pressured to do anything. I like you.”

Donghyuck let out a excited screech before peppering your face with kisses. He pulls you back down on the bed, a big, bright smile that could rival your scarf on his face.

“Don’t kiss me or you’ll really get sick.” You warned against your new boyfriend’s chest.

“I’ll do what I want.” The boy reminiscent of summer tells you, giddy with happiness.

“You’ll have to look after me anyways.”

“Sunflower, I have class now, you’re going to have to let me go.”

“But you’re warm.” You wine, nuzzling your numb nose into your boyfriend’s arm.

Mark scrunches his face up in distaste as he passes by the table you were situated at in the coffee shop. Jaemin and Jeno both had equally grossed out expressions etched on their face.

“Alright, but if I fail Physics, I’m blaming you.” Hyuck scolds playfully, placing a gentle peck on the crown of your head.

“Gross. Is it bad if I miss single Hyuck and single Y/N?”

“When they’re doing things like this out in public? No.”

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mandowh0re · 6 years

Text

Trust

CH 1

Requested: No

Fandom: Avengers MCU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Female Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky while on a mission with Steve and Natasha to bring him back to the States and makes an unexpected connection with him.

Word Count: 1670

Warnings: Some swearing, quick description of killing (bad guys)

Comments: This is an AU, Bucky wasn’t the one who killed Tony’s parents, and the Accords were dealt with in a proper manner which I will lightly get into at some point. This takes place after Homecoming so Peter is included. Also, the reader’s powers are based around Starfire and Raven from Teen Titans, but I also tweaked them and such so they’re not completely the same. Also, I KNOW THIS FIRST CHAPTER IS KINDA SHIT BUT I PROMISE THIS IS GOING SOMEWHERE, I ALREADY HAVE SEVERAL CHAPTERS WRITTEN.

BIG thank you to @this-swede-loves-superheroes for being my amazing beta!

Happy reading!

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9

“Okay, you’re clear to enter the building.” You hear Natasha in your ear as you walk behind Steve towards the dingy apartment building across the street. Natasha was perched on a building across the street keeping an eye out in case Steve’s friend returned early, as well as for anyone else who could make this meeting go south.

Luckily you didn’t catch anyone’s attention, both you and Steve were dressed casually; him in jeans, white tennis shoes, a blue t-shirt, a loose-fitting black jacket and a baseball cap; and you in skinny jeans, red converse, a black sweatshirt that was too big for you, and your hair cascaded around your face in an attempt to hide your face.

The plan was to get into Bucky’s (Steve had told you his name was James, but Steve called him Bucky) apartment before he came home. You would hide in the corner of the ceiling using your ability to fly, and Steve would be the one to talk to Bucky. You were only there to keep Bucky at bay if he became combative.

An hour went by after you entered the residence when Natasha spoke up, “He’s walking up the street.”

“Copy that.” Steve nodded to you and you quietly floated up to the darkened corner of the room behind the door, in the hopes Bucky wouldn’t see you there when he walked in.

“He’s walking into the building.” Natasha spoke into the comms. You curled into yourself to make yourself smaller on instinct. You looked at Steve, who was in the opposite corner of the room, and though to anyone else he looked calm, you knew better. He was on edge and nervous as hell.

Suddenly the door handle began to shake and when you heard the lock give, a tall man walked in. He was brunet, wearing jeans, a leather jacket, gloves, and a hat, but that was all you could see.

He caught sight of Steve immediately and slowly shut the door behind him.

“Do you know me?” Steve asked, taking a cautious step forward.

The man, Bucky, you figured, took a moment before answering, “You’re Steve. I read about you in a museum.”

Steve sighed, “I know you’re nervous, and you have plenty of reason to be,” A beat, “But you’re lying.”

The man took a deep breath, “Why are you here?”

Steve took another tentative step, “You’ve been pardoned by the UN. Nobody is looking for you anymore. I want you to come with me. I know people who say they can get rid of the Soldier, you can be free, Buck.”

Bucky didn’t relax, but he seemed to be thinking about the offer when his body immediately went rigid. More than it already was, and Steve noticed.

“Buck? What’s wrong?”

Bucky’s eye quickly flicked around the room before he grabbed a gun out of his belt, spun on his heels, and pointed it at you, all in one swift motion.

Luckily you saw his hand twitch before it happened and instantly dropped to the ground, and using your powers threw up a green shield in front of you, the irises of your eyes illuminating a bright emerald green.

“Bucky stop! She’s with me!” Steve grabbed Bucky’s arm and pulled him back, “She’s part of my team, she’s a friend.”

Bucky looked at you with wide eyes, like he was terrified, and you knew that you looked quite intimidating like this, so in an attempt to get the man to trust you, you pulled your energy back in. Your shield dissipated and your eyes returned to their normal shade of (Y/E/C).

It may have been a dumb move, and Steve was sure you lecture you about it later because the gun was still trained on you (albeit not at your head anymore), but you began to slowly step forward towards Bucky. You tucked your hair behind your ears to show your face, and smiled. Reaching out, you gently pushed the gun down. You looked into Bucky’s eyes, which were a brilliant shade of slate blue, and felt something inside you shift.

You felt like suddenly your soul needed his, and you hadn’t even properly met the man.

“Hi,” You spoke, “I am (Y/N). It is nice to finally meet Steve’s best friend.” He stared at you, and after a moment he completely lowered the gun, which Steve gladly took and attached to his belt. You smiled warmly at him and spoke again, “I apologize, I did not mean to startle you.”

“We have a problem,” Came Natasha’s voice, “There are some shady looking guys coming towards the building and they just scream HYDRA. Not to mention one of them has that stupid fucking tattoo on their neck.”

“Damn it!” Steve all but yelled, startling Bucky.

“What?”

“Hang on Buck, Natasha, can you get to the car?” Steve was pacing. Right now you were the only weapon in the room (besides the gun, but you had a feeling Steve wasn’t going to use that because in all likelihood it was probably stolen). You all weren’t planning on being intercepted by HYDRA. It came up as a factor, but a highly unlikely one. Bucky was a weapon, but it was clear to everyone not to let him fight. Nobody wanted the Winter Soldier to accidentally let loose.

“Yeah, give me a minute. I’ve been made and have two coming to me.”

“Guys, what’s going on?” Bucky was obviously nervous.

You turned to him and looked him in the eyes, “HYDRA men are here. We need to leave.”

Then suddenly there was pounding at the door and yelling in Russian. Bucky was stock still and stared at the door in fear.

Wanting to get his attention back to you, you gently placed your hand on his right arm, knowing from what Steve told you that his left arm was metal and you didn’t know if he could feel touch or not, “James, do you trust me?”

He looked at you, and you smiled at him, encouraging him to follow you.

“Come on guys!” Steve yelled from the window that he had quite literally just tore open, “We have to leave now!”

You looked back to Bucky, who gave a slight nod. You smiled and took his hand, pulling him to the window Steve had just jumped out of. You shot your energy out the window to catch him, making sure he landed safely. You turned to Bucky, but before you had a chance to get him out, the door gave in and 4 men rushed into the place with guns.

“Там солдат! Убить девочку!” One of them yelled. You felt Bucky tense and you quickly felt the familiar heat in your eyes take place as you threw a green energy bolt at the men, successfully knocking them all down.

“James, I know this is scary, but I need you to crawl out of the window and when I tell you to, I need you to jump.”

His head whipped toward you, “What??”

“Солдаты! Ты пойдешь с нами!” You heard from behind you, and you turned to throw another energy bolt at the men who were scrambling to get up again.

“James, please, I will catch you, I promise.” You beg.

“желание!” One of them shouts, and you see Bucky grab his head.

“Shit.” You whisper. You knew that word. Steve taught it to you, along with several others. It was the first word in the line of Bucky’s trigger words. You didn’t have anymore time.

“Ржавый!” Bucky groaned loudly and slammed his head on the window sill.

“James, look at me!” You screamed at him from where you stood, only 4 feet from him, and he turned his head slightly towards you, “Jump, now!” He looked at you with a terrified and pained expression, and then quickly jumped out of the window, but not before anger took over you and you whipped around to the men in front of you. You raised your hands and let the energy around them become that of a lethal state, the tendrils growing, before shooting out at a lighting fast speed and piercing each one of them through the heart.

You then turned and shot out of the building, quickly wrapping Bucky in a much lighter form of the tendrils that left your fingers just moments ago, catching him midair. You noticed his rapid breathing, noting that he was on the verge on panicking.

“James, it is alright. You are not falling. I have you.” You set him down on the sidewalk, and ushered him into the car.

“Drive.” You heard Steve order from the front, and that was all Natasha needed to speed out of that that city.

You curled yourself into your legs, trying to take steadying breaths.

“(Y/N)?” You looked up and saw Steve looking back at you from the front, worry etched on his face, “Are you okay?”

“I am fine.” You say shortly, and dropped your head back into your hands.

You hear a sigh, this time Natasha spoke, “(Y/N), you need to take a deep breath, calm down. You’re doing really well at controlling yourself. We can’t really afford to have you melt down in the car.”

You took a few more deep breaths before you felt pressure on your knee. Looking between your fingers you saw a metal hand placed there. You peaked at Bucky, who was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t read, but you could swear you saw a hint of understanding.

You continued to look into his eyes, caught in them once again, when you felt the heat leave yours, letting you know that your energy had settled down and you were now under control.

You looked back down at your knee, and wrapped your flesh hand around his metal one.

“Thank you,” He said in a low, gravelly voice, “For catching me.”

Looking back up at him, you smiled warmly at him.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

#trust #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x enhanced!reader #bucky barnes x enhanced! female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes posts #multi chapter fic

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butwhyduh · 6 years

Text

Let's Run Away

Tom Holland x Reader mob!au pt4

Warning: smut, guns, alcohol, gambling, boxing

Word count: 1670

Summary: In the 1920s, during the height of prohibition, in New York City, Tom holland, an unknown from London, tries to make his way around the New York crime world with his lover Y/n. When he owes an influential crime family money he'll do anything to pay them back. Is it too much?

Author note: Robbie- Sebastian Stan, Vinnie- Ian Somerhalder. Not representative of their real personalities.

Glad rags are going out dresses.

The Eager Beaver was a small potatoes joint. A lot of workers and lower ranking members of the mobs visited it. They paid both the Moretti and O'Neal's to keep it a neutral ground. The head bosses never visited the joint.

Across town was the Bee's Knees which couldn't be more different. It was a O'Neal joint. The mob bosses could often be seen working there. It was safer from the police because the mob paid well and New York City police knew they didn't have the power to take them down. They had nice tables and chairs. The dance floor shone high gloss. Unlike the Eager Beaver, that often had a mixture of all people wearing everything from suits to construction gear, the Bee's Knees had a code. If you came here, you came in your best.

Every Tuesday and Thursday they had a big fight. A boxing ring was placed on the dance floor and the stage was covered in tables to place bets. They often had 3 separate fights starting smallest to largest. Large quantities of money was exchanged at these events.

Johnny was going to raid the place. He had roped in Tom, Haz, Ollie, and Trev, plus 2 of his own guys. Robbie and Vinnie sat at a card table in the back of Johnny 's warehouse. The building was quiet at this early hour. Johnny came strolling in with a tray containing coffee mugs and a pot.

"Cuppa coffee, anyone?" He offered. Haz and Robbie both took a cup. "I have the plans here," Johnny said unrolling a set of blue prints. It was the Bee's Knees in detail.

"Alright, so we know that every Friday and Tuesday they have fights and a lot of money comes in. They don't pay until Saturday morning. We are going to take them for everything they've got. It'll be thousands of dollars in one safe. There are 3 locks and 2 guards to get through. We just need to get the keys during the fight and then come back later. We have about 8 to 10 minute to get in and out. I think we can do it in 5. No one will know who did it. I'll claim you helped me with a shipment to explain the money."

"Tom you need to be look out. Bring your girl to the fight and show her a good time. You will distract security if needed. Your girl could fake fainting if needed," Johnny said. Tom tensed at the idea of involving Y/n.

"Haz, bring someone too. You'll be doing the same. Tom will sit here," Johnny pointed to a seat near the office. "And Haz, here," he pointed to a seat near the back exit.

"Vinnie and Ollie will sit near the main doors. And Trev will distract the bartender for Robbie to get the keys. If all goes well then we just enjoy the fights before leaving. We'll come back around 2 to get the stuff. I'll explain that after we get the keys. Does everyone understand?" Johnny said looking at the group.

"I don't like involving Y/n," Tom said. Johnny nodded.

"You could leave her home alone for the Moretti to talk to her again," Johnny countered. "Or you two could buy your girls some dresses to show them a good time," he said handing both Haz and Tom some money.

Tom stiffly nodded. He hated this idea but what choice did he have? Haz smiled uncomfortably. He was going to have to ask Dot. And she couldn't know what he was even doing.

--------------------------------------------

Tom had stopped at a shop on the way home and bought a dress for that night. He knew what they expected there and Y/n had never been. He hoped that you wouldn't be mad at him when he got home. He cautiously walked in the tiny apartment. You stood at the sink washing dishes. You appeared normal except for the knife held in the band of your apron.

"Hey pretty girl," Tom decided to say. The last thing He wanted was to scare you and get stabbed. You turned around quicker than usual with your hand going to the hilt of the knife. "It's just me, love. I got you some glad rags," he sad offering the bag.

You took the bag and sat at the small rickety table. You pulled out a dress that was the most expensive and beautiful thing you had ever owned. "How did you get this?"

"I need your help tonight," Tom said before explaining the plan. You looked at him cautiously. Your hand ran on the fabric of the dress. It was softer than anything. He did say all you would be doing is watching a boxing match. You touched the spot on your cheek softly.

"Okay. We'll do it."

You stood in front of your mirror wearing the dress. It was butter yellow, knee length, hung loose from the hips down. The back was open to the small of your back. You ran a hand on the beading along the neckline. It was beautiful.

"Holy hell. I'm not sure if I can let you leave," Tom said grabbing your hips from behind. "You are gorgeous, love," he said as a hand ran up to cup your breast. The thin material provided little barrier.

"We have to get ready," you reminded him as he placed soft kisses on your neck.

"We have time," He said huskily pulling at the ribbon in the back. He unbuttoned it and the dress slipped to the floor. Tom ran his hands along your body as you watched in the mirror.

--------------------------------------------

This was your first time at the Bee's Knees. It was owned by the Moretti and very expensive. Of course, Johnny had paid the group's way. He stood proud of himself wearing a navy suit with a blue undershirt and striped tie. Tom had put on a classier and older black suit with white shirt and tie.

Tom had a hand firmly on your bare back to keep you close. He hated involving you. You smiled politely at all around. After shaking a few hands He guided you to 2 chairs near the office. You looked at the ring in the middle of the room. Men walked to the tables on the stage to make bets and back to their seats.

Men of wealth from all over the city filled the room and many had beautiful women on their arms. You felt poor but also excited. You didn't know if you would ever see this life again. Johnny sat down in a seat near the ring, turned in his seat, and winked at you both. Tom grabbed you both a glass of champagne, real champagne, from a waitress walking by. How they had gotten it from France with the laws against alcohol in New York was a mystery to you.

"Excuse me, sir?" Said a nervous man in a waiter outfit. Tom looked at him. "This seat is reserved. If you could move here," he motioned to 3 rows closer to the ring. Tom nodded and stood. You followed to your new seats. He felt nervous at the thought of being farther from the office. This wasn't part of the plan.

Soon the seats began filling up around you. Haz sat across the room with Dot who was gorgeous in a blue dress. Her red hair looked even more beautiful. Right before the fight was to began a group of people split the crowd and sat in the seats you had been in. It was clearly the Moretti family. The elderly man of the group was the leader and everyone deferred to him. You felt Tom tense next to you.

"You have that gun, right love?" He asked leaning into your ear. Your blood chilled at the thought of needing it but you nodded. You could feel the cold metal strapped to your thigh. "If anything happens get low and run."

The crowd cheered loudly. It was an odd sight to see people in fancy clothing cheering loudly. Two men walked into the ring. They were thin but very fit. This was the lightweight fight. You had never seen a boxing match in person. Generally the spots Tom watched the weren't the best places for women.

A man acting as referee stepped in the ring. The two men squared up and bumped hands. A bell rang and the ref backed up. The two boxers began dancing and throwing their gloved hands at each other. The crowd cheered as they connected. You gasped as one particular hit rocked the fighter. He spit blood on the mat. Tom grasped your hand lightly.

Soon the bell rang again and the pair stepped back to their corners where they were given water and rags to wipe the blood. Waiters fluttered through the crowd bringing drinks and cigarettes to spectators. Soon the pair squared up again and the bell rang.

The hometown favorite swung hard to hit the jaw of the taller man. He rocked back slightly and got a jab to the ribs as punishment. He managed to dance away from the next hit. He threw a hook to the favorite's ribs. He exposed his face and got a hard jab to the nose. He bled freely on the mat. He swung wildly and the favorite jabbed him quickly in the jaw and the man went to the mat.

A gun shot sounded in the room and you froze. You felt your blood thicken in horror. Tom pushed you from your chair to the ground and wrapped his arms around you.

"We have to get out of here, pretty girl. Stay with me," Tom said pulling a gun from his waistband. You remembered the revolver on your hip and reached for it. "Safer if you didn't, love. Not enough space."

Taglist: @alilblogger @captainbuckyy @peterparkers-waffles @smexylemony @tony-starks-ego @oh-dear-tommy @highladyjel @spiderboytotherescue @hollandroos

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#tom holland #harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #haz #tom holland smut #harrison osterfield x reader #tom holland x reader #mob!haz #mob!au #mob!harrison #mob!tom #lets run away t.h.#taron egerton #bill skarsgard #robbie amell #sebastian stan #ian somerhalder #katherine mcnamara

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phanfic · 6 years

Text

Apple

Summary: Dan eats an apple. Phil can’t help himself. (loosely based off of that one really old Daniel Howell video, Cringe Attack, except here, they’re high schoolers.)

Warnings: making out

Word Count: 1670

It’s the first day of school, and Dan was lost. You’d think that having been at the high school for three years now, Dan should know his way around. But no.

Not his fault their high school was huge. Nor was it his fault his map was gone; he’d tripped on another student’s shoelace and dropped his map while trying to break his fall. Nor was hit his fault that the lady at the front door was too scary-looking for him to ask for another copy.

So instead of getting even more winded looking for room 231, he took a left turn, headed into an all-too-familiar hallway, which was empty, per usual, and he waited.

He waited for Phil.

Phil Lester was his boyfriend, and goodness, the thought of him brings out such an intense, mixed reaction within Dan. Obviously, the thought of his precious, beautiful boyfriend made him feel happy, feel lighter than air, but it also made him frustrated, too, because of how long they’ve been apart. They hadn’t seen each other all summer because Phil had been in France doing a study abroad program, and Dan, curse him, Dan didn’t do anything the entire summer other than feel sorry for himself and miss him. It didn’t help that Phil’s parents wouldn’t let him splurge on a better phone plan and forced him and Dan to limit their phone calls to a minute or two a day. It didn’t help that the family Phil stayed with had the worse WiFi service ever; more often than not it was down, and on the off chance that it wasn’t down, their Skype calls would be such low resolution that Phil would barely be recognizable and the call would rarely last over ten minutes before the signal would die. And it certainly didn’t help that Phil’s study abroad program lasted the entire summer vacation: the last time they were together, Dan had been pinned against the lockers of this very hall, and they were passionately licking into each other’s mouths before Phil had abruptly broken away and left to go catch his shuttle to the airport.

Point is, Dan missed his boyfriend.

And the thing is, Phil was perfect. Phil was everything Dan aspired to be and failed miserably at. Yes, Phil was tall, and so was Dan, but Phil was attractive, with his broad shoulders and toned muscles and sparkling blue eyes, and Dan wasn’t. Yes, Phil was nerdy, and so was Dan, but Phil was nerdy in a charming way, and Dan’s strange interests just made him less approachable. Perhaps Phil was clumsy and geeky and admittedly quite childish sometimes, but that just made him more adorable, and you should see how sexy Phil can be when he tries. And yes, Phil had a boyfriend, and so did Dan, but Phil made his boyfriend feel like he was the most important thing in the world. Dan, on the other hand, only felt like his boyfriend was the most important thing in the world; he couldn’t convey it, not in the same way Phil could.

But in this moment, Dan’s more concerned about how Phil knew the location of every single room in the entire school building, and Dan most certainly did not. But he knew where to find Phil: they’d met in this hallway every day before and after school for as long as they’d been together, and Dan knew that Phil will arrive eventually.

Suddenly, Dan was yanked from his thoughts by a pang in his stomach. In an effort to arrive at school earlier to be with his boyfriend, Dan had skipped breakfast, and now he was regretting it. However, he didn’t want to go buy food from the school cafeteria: he might miss Phil’s arrival and the school food tasted like crap anyways. So he searched through his bag for the apple he had packed to eat alongside his lunch, took it out, and took a bite, moaning slightly at the sweet flavor.

And this was when his boyfriend Phil, who had just finished scouting out the location of every class on his schedule, decided to arrive.

After spending the entire summer in France, Phil was eager to return; he’d missed Dan as much as Dan missed him, even though he doesn’t really show it. But not that eager, not to the point where he had no self-control. He could keep from running at his boyfriend as soon as he saw him, and that’s exactly what he was doing. He saw that Dan was distracted so he decided to approach slowly, quietly, to give him a surprise.

But he did NOT expect to hear Dan moan. At an apple, of all things.

It caused him to trip over his own feet, remembering all the other times that beautiful sound had escaped Dan’s lips.

As he hoisted himself back up he hoped that Dan didn’t notice, and proceeded to continue creeping towards him, pressing himself against the wall to the best of his ability. He thought he saw Dan sneak a glance at him from the corner of his eye but decided that he imagined it when Dan just continued to chew at the apple like nothing had happened. He stopped again as Dan let out another deep, sultry moan.

Dan saw, of course; Phil wasn’t exactly small-framed and he did wear bright, colorful clothing. But Dan didn’t react. Instead, he decided to put on a show, wrapping his lips around the apple and letting out another noise.

And as Phil approached Dan’s eating of the apple became less and less appropriate and more and more pornographic: before long, he’s stopped biting at the apple altogether and instead focused completely on running his tongue along the teeth marks, mouth open and panting, hunger be damned. And yes, perhaps it was strange to pretend to intensely make out with an apple, but Dan couldn’t be bothered to care at that point; Phil’s reaction made it all worth it.

And Phil, oh Phil’s self-control was definitely beginning to falter. He still wanted to surprise Dan, but the desire to ear him squeal in joy and excitement was quickly being overpowered by the need for him to be groaning into Phil’s mouth.

Phil made it to about two yards away before he snapped. He stood up to his full height and pinned Dan to the lockers, using one hand to hold Dan’s arms above his head. Dan dropped the apple in shock but he couldn’t give a damn; he was trapped between Phil’s lean body and the cold metal of the locker, Phil licking into his mouth relentlessly. He could do little more than try to kiss back and moan uncontrollably, but that’s fine; he’d missed the blissfulness of losing control, missed the taste of Phil on his tongue, missed Phil’s hooded blue eyes and how the way Phil looked at him in a way like he wanted to devour him whole.

His knees shook and his head spun and they separated for a moment to gasp for air, but then their lips were meeting again, and Dan could never get enough. It was too much and he swore he’d pass out but he still couldn’t get enough. Phil’s tongue licked into his mouth again, and again, and again—

The bell rang. Their mouths separated Phil let go of his arms in shock, having not realized so much time had passed, and now both of them were tardy for first period on the first day of school and both of them were a little bit horrified, the silence of the hallways ringing in their ears. Dan the first to return to his senses and remembered suddenly why he had come here in the first place, while Phil was still frozen in shock, still keeping Dan pressed to the locker with his torso. Dan stood on his toes and gave Phil a quick peck on the lips, and Phil pushed his surprise from his mind and took a few steps back, freeing Dan from his position against the locker.

“Phil, there was actually something I was going to ask you before…this happened,” Dan murmured softly, embarrassed by how loud he was earlier.

“What is it, babe?”

“…I need to get to room 231, and…” he shrugged, raising his hands to show Phil that they were empty, “I may or may not have lost my map.”

“Oh,” Phil grinned slightly, “It’s right here.” He pointed behind him, and Dan realized in shocked that they’d been snogging in front of the window of a classroom and that the entire class, plus the teacher, could have seen them. His face flushed in embarrassment.

“ONLY JOKING!!” Phil said with a laugh, and Dan was greatly comforted by the fact that he doesn’t need to enter that classroom after the fiasco that had just occurred, but still uncomfortable about how many people could have seen. “That’s room 193,” Phil continued, chuckling, “231 is on the second floor.”

“193 is my English class!” Dan realized, horrified again.

But Phil apparently didn’t hear his exclamation, or was purposefully ignoring it, because now he was dutifully telling Dan the exact route to room 231. “Once you get up the stairs, take a right, and at the end of that hallway take another right. It should be the fourth door on your left. Anything else you need, or should I head to class?”

Dan shook his head. “I’m good,” he smiled softly, feeling extremely fortunate to have such a caring boyfriend. He picked the apple he had dropped back off of the floor and looked for a wastebin, but didn’t find one. He shrugged.

“Guess I’ll just keep this as a memento.”

Phil laughed again, sticking his tongue between his teeth. “I’ll never be able to look at apples the same way.”

“And I’ll never have the courage to set foot into English class!”

“So what?” Phil grinned, “Wasn’t it worth it?

“After such a long wait?” Dan smiled, “Definitely.”

#smut #au #teenagers #school #establishedrelationship #submission #makingout

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missjugheadjones · 7 years

Text

Because I Like You

Word Count: 1670

A/N: this is a touch of Jealous/Protective!Jughead, but I have one more coming out here fairly soon that will be even more jelaous-y and protective-y and possessive-y than this so yay! *squeal* I hope you all enjoy lol!

MasterList

"Juggie, I'm going to be gone for a few hours so don't wait up!" Y/N yelled down the hall, half expecting her best friend to completely disregard what she said.

"Where are you going?" the beanie-less boy yelled, bursting out of his office slash bedroom, his hair falling over his face. Y/N chuckled slightly at the concerned boy, and picked up her bag off the counter.

"Out...?" she replied, and Jughead rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to play off his worry.

"Out where? With who?" he asked, trying his best to make his million questions sound as casual as possible, but ended up ultimately failing because Y/N smiled at his concerned tone he was trying so hard to conceal.

"Why does it matter?" she asked, putting her hand on her hip and eyeing the raven haired boy.

"Because there's a killer on the loose," he quickly shot. Y/N followed Jugheads eyes as he gave her a glance over, and she melted for a split second under his gaze, shifting on her feet. "And I don't know if I want you going out dressed like... that."

"What do you mean? Do I not look good?" she asked, looking down at herself. She thought she looked pretty good, she was wearing her favourite (black skater skirt, a white lacy crop top, a flowy nude cardigan, and short black booties/black plain tank top, skinny ripped jeans, and plain black sneakers).

"No, I think you look beautiful as always," he started, and Y/N felt as her heart skipped a beat, and tried to fight the blush creeping up her cheeks. "It's just... you look too beautiful, you're gonna get a lot of attention from guys if you're going to be out in public." he said, and Y/N rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"I'm going to the club with Ronnie and the Pussy cats, I'm sure I'm going to be getting attention either way, being surrounded by drunk men and all." she teased, but that only seemed to upset him more.

"All more of a reason for you to go change, do you want to borrow one of my jackets? That'll cover you up better, and maybe scare a few guys off." He offered, and Y/N chuckled.

"No Jug, I'm okay I-" she started, but Jughead shook his head.

"Yeah, I'll go get you a jacket." he interrupted, backing up slowly to his room, digging around for a spare and baggy coat for the (y/h/c) girl, but before he could find one, he heard the front door open.

"Bye Jughead, don't wait up!" Y/N called, and Jughead rushed out of the room and to the front door, where Y/N winked and slammed the door behind her, leaving Jughead to his own burning thoughts and feelings.

•••

Y/N opened the front door slowly, trying her best to avoid the squeaking noise the hinges made every time the door was used, but like clockwork, the door cried out.

"Shut up you stupid door, people are trying to sleep!" she whispered angrily at the inanimate object, closing it behind her.

"You know it doesn't understand you, right?" Jughead asked, turning on a lamp in the living room, revealing him sitting on the couch of their small apartment. "It's a door, just because you verbally abuse it doesn't mean it will do what you want."

"Yeah whatever, I can still try. What are you doing up?" Y/N asked, tossing her bag on the ground and taking her (booties/sneakers) off.

"Waiting for you." He replied, standing from the couch. "Do you know what time it is?"

"I don't know? 2 maybe?" Y/N guessed, and Jughead shook his head.

"5:30 in the morning, I was worried sick!" he slightly yelled, and Y/N rolled her eyes, making her way into the kitchen.

"You had no reason to be, I'm fine." She said nonchalantly, pulling a mug out of the cupboard and (hot chocolate/tea) out of another.

"You've been gone for 7 hours with no word to me, the only way I knew you were alive was from your instagram, which by the way I have a few questions about, like where'd you go after the club and who the hell were those guys you were with?" He asked angrily, and Y/N threw her hands in the air in surrender.

"I went back to Josie's with Ronnie, Melody, Valarie, and some guys from the club." she said, taking a sip of her (hot chocolate/tea) and jumping up onto the counter.

"Why?" he asked, and Y/N shrugged, kicking her feet slightly as they dangled off the edge.

"Did you really think I was going to be in a crowded club for 7 hours? I'm surprised I even survived the 3 I was there. Honestly if you ask me it was 3 hours too many, there were-"

"That's not what I was asking. Why did you take guys back to Josie's with you?" Jughead asked, and Y/N giggled. "What's so funny?"

"You're so angry, it's kinda cute." she said, and Jughead did his best not to look affected by her comment, which wasn't too hard, he was pissed.

"You didn't sleep with any of them did you?" he asked, and Y/N choked slightly on her drink, taken aback by the question.

"No, I'm very much awake right now, and I was very much awake earlier, and I'm not in a strange bed with a man I don't know," she said, and Jughead huffed out in frustration. "At least I don't think I am, this could be just a dream. This would be a very weird dream to be having, although I've had weirder. One time, I had a dream that you got kidnapped by aliens and I was chasing around this shiny purple UFO trying to get you back and-"

"Y/N, you know what I mean." Jughead said impatiently, but she just kept on rambling.

"They refused to give you back, and I was pissed, so when they landed I snuck into the ship and beat the shit out of like three ugly grey aliens who had guns that shot out energy cells, and I was dodging all of their bullets-"

"Y/N!" Jughead yelled, effectively shutting the girl up. "How drunk are you?" he asked, and she giggled and shrugged again. "Did you have-"

"No I didn't sleep with any of them." Y/N cut him off, jumping off the counter but leaned back against it instead. "I don't see why it's any of your business if I did though, why should you care?"

"Because I'm your best friend, and I only want to protect you." he said, and Y/N scoffed, now getting slightly annoyed with Jugheads over protectiveness.

"I can protect myself Jughead, I don't need your supervision." she argued, and he glared narrowly at her.

"Obviously you do." He spat. "I'm only doing this to make sure you don't end up like Jason Blossom-"

"I still don't understand why you care so much, you don't care about anything half the time!" she yelled, throwing her hands up.

"BECAUSE I LIKE YOU!" he yelled, not thinking over what just came out of his mouth, but it didn't matter too much, because neither did Y/N.

"WELL I LIKE YOU TOO!" she screamed back, staring wildly at Jughead, who just processed what Y/N had said to him and was taken aback.

She paused for a second, taking her eyes off the boy in front of her to think about the argument that just went down and the words that were said. She stared off confused into space, a panting mess as she tried to catch her breathe and process the fact that Jughead had just admitted his feelings for her, or maybe she was so drunk she imagined it? But she just admitted her feelings to him, she knew that for a fact so if she imagined him saying that and she just yelled that she liked him that-

Her thoughts were cut off when Jugheads lips crashed into hers, and without missing a beat she kissed him back, her hands flying up to his face. She quickly pulled away from him, staring him in his eyes and he looked slightly panicked, worried he had done something wrong.

"Please tell me I'm not passed out somewhere drunk as all hell and dreaming this." she breathlessly asked, and Jughead smirked.

"Is that what you think is happening?" he asked.

"God I hope not." she replied, pulling him back down for another hungry kiss to which he happily complied. He picked her up and threw her on the counter behind them, moving from her mouth to her jaw, trailing kisses from there to her collarbone as Y/N tugged on the hem of his shirt.

"I've liked you for so long..." she said and he smiled against her skin, standing up straighter to look at her.

"Ive liked you since you moved here." he said, and she blushed and rolled her eyes, leaning down to peck him on the lips.

"Damn I've wasted so much of my life not doing that." she said, smirking down at Jughead, to which he chuckled slightly.

"Let's make up for all lost time right now, what do you say?" he asked smugly, and she nodded her head, crashing her lips with his again, continuing to tug on his shirt until he pulled it off himself. She reached to her own and pulled it off as well, and Jughead picked her up off the counter, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She giggled as he made their way to her bedroom that they both knew was going to be shared after tonight's events, which by the way, totally made up for lost time. ;)

Tag List:

@do-not-call-me-sunshine @gelattoes @xbobaaa @katshrev @farmfreshcoldsprouts @sgarrett49 @always-chocolate @nadya0128 @vegaslodgeprimary @rainbows-and-glitter-bitch @lost-in-wonderland-x @aezthetically @mrs-jughead-jones @nafa1604 @moonlight53 @mydelightfulcollectiontyphoon @bookloveaffair @twolittlehunters @reallyshortartist @adellyhatter-blog

#jughead jones #jughead fanfiction #jughead x reader #jughead jones x reader #fanfiction #cw riverdale #missjugheadjones

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ravenfire2908 · 7 years

Text

The huntress in the forest

Feysand fanfiction:

AU: Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian are sent to the mortal realm to hunt an animal to bring back a trophy to the Illyrians. But when they finally find an animal in the seemingly abandoned mortal realm, a young huntress steps in and takes their kill. Furious and curious, the three follow the lone huntress, the future High Lord seems a little more curious than his two friends though.

Word Count: 1670

-----

Three Illyrians crashed into the snow of the mortal realm. The air was almost colder than up north in their own camp, how mortal survived was a question neither of them bothered to ask.

Cassian drew a crossbow from his back between his wings, and though he had remembered the crossbow, he’d forgotten the arrows. He was about to curse when Azriel held out a quiver of arrows.

The three were on a mission in the mortal realm, one they weren’t exactly pleased about: Hunt an animal of the mortal side of the wall without being caught by human eyes. It didn’t seem like a hard task, not at first glance.

However, after hours of running and flying about the seemingly empty forest, their hope was running out. The three had covered massive grounds during the hours, even finding a small village nearby, but no sign of animal life.

“They’re probably all hibernating,” Azriel said low as he waited for his scouting shadows to return.

“Possibly, but not every animal hibernate,” Rhysand pointed out with a frown, a dagger was in his hand and at the moment he took joy in cutting words into the bark of a tree. Cassian is a flying chicken. Azriel is a squirrel.

The three grunted in unison and slowly went back to scope out where they had laid their little camp. The size of the creature they brought back counted, and though the few that had gone into this quest had returned with little more than squirrels and rabbits, the three aimed higher. Maybe a doe or stag, maybe a wolf or a bear. Though the latter seemed unlikely as winter was ruling the mortal lands at the moment.

After another few hours of hunting and impatient bantering between the three, they finally found something worth of a trophy. A mighty stag rubbed its antlers against the bark of a tree, seemingly unaware of the three Illyrians starting to sneak up on the creature.

They had been hunting close to the wall and didn’t think humans would come this close to the fae hated wall.

Cassian drew an arrow into the crossbow, the graceful weapon lined and his aim was almost perfect. But his shot was cut off by another arrow flying right by the hiding illyrians. The new arrow shot right into the stag’s chest.

The creature jumped back in fear and pain, but another arrow shot through the air, hitting it’s mark in the stag’s head. The creature dropped to the ground.

The three Illyrians stared for a moment before a low grunt had them hiding behind a bush. A girl suddenly entered the clearing, an arrow loose in her bow as she stalked to the dead stag. Golden brown hair fell from the fur lined hood, for a second they all thought her to be a male, but her slim for had suggested otherwise.

When the girl thought she was safe in the clearing, she set to work on the stag. She drew out the arrow from the skull and cursed loudly at the broken piece. The second arrow seemed in one piece. They couldn’t see her face from the shadow of her hood, but her aura was wild and alive.

Another minute of observation and the girl had tied the legs of the stag together and started to drag it in the direction of the small village they’d seen earlier. It wasn’t too far away, but it would take some time getting that big stag to the village or wherever she lived.

When the girl was out of sight and earshot, the three males rose from their spots. “That was close.” Azriel said, even he had been so busy with the stag before them that not even his shadows had noticed the female.

“Close!? She took the stag!” Cassian yelled.

“We’ll find another.” Azriel said low, already having sent his shadows to hunt for him.

“Rhys?” Rhysand stood utterly still, staring in the direction the girl had went, he didn’t even hear Cassian’s low mockery of him. Without another word, he set after her. “Rhys!” Cassian called after him before his brothers looked at each other with concern and followed him.

They find the girl closing in on the village, they could smell her sweat and even her tiredness and her lust to give up.

“A little closer,” She whispered low, and had it not been for fae hearing they wouldn’t have heard her. “Just a little. . . closer. . .”

She made her way to the outskirt of the village and stopped before a shack of a cottage.

“Does she live here?” Cassian whispered to his brothers.

The golden haired girl looked at the door with longing before setting to work on the stag instead. She drew a knife from her pocket and slowly started to skin the animal. Another agonizing hour the three males watched the girl sloppily and poorly skin the animal. When she was finally finished, she took the stag into the cottage. Small female yelps filled the air as the bloodsoaked girl came into the cottage.

“This should be enough for a week or two if we’re careful. I’ll take the skin and antlers to town tomorrow to sell them.” The three males listened from the open window, why it was open, they had no idea. They watched and listened to the family talk and prepare for what they assumed was a dinner.

Rhys twitched and jerked at every move the huntress made, as if he wanted to go in there. “Who are you?” He whispered low.

And as if an answer, the girl with brown eyes said, “Feyre, its dripping.” The huntress, Feyre, turned to the bloody stag on the table.

“Elain, I just skinned it. Go outside and it’ll look like a murder scene.” Feyre pointed her thumb at the door. But the brown eyed girl shook her head, she wasn’t about to go outside. “Where’s Nesta?”

“She’s in our room, she was tired from cutting wood this morning and went to bed early.”

The Illyrian’s eyes fell on the man sitting by one of the windows, his face was focused as he cut markings into the window frame. “Is something wrong, Rhys?” Azriel asked.

“If I’m guessing, that should be their father, he’s too old to be a brother.” Rhys sank back into the shadows of the forest, “Azriel, have your shadows watch the family for the night.”

“Why?” Cassian asked rather bored.

“I think the huntress is my mate.”

------------

The next morning the huntress went out of the cottage again, it was barely past dawn and from the what Azriel reported about the rest of the family, they were still asleep. Feyre rushed from the cottage with the antlers and the pelt, her steps were long as she rushed towards the village.

They followed her into the village with Rhys glamoring them to look like nothing but normal mortals. And thought Rhys didn’t show it, his two brothers knew Rhys was tampering with the merchant Feyre was selling the pelt and antlers to.

-----------

Later that evening, the three followed the girl through the forest yet again. They knew she wasn’t out to hunt big animals, the bow and new arrows were for defence. But as they followed they saw her looking for something.

A twig snapped under Cassian’s foot as he hid behind a tree with his brothers behind a bush. Feyre’s bow was loaded the second she turned around.

“Who goes there!?” She called, not a trace of fear, but rather confusion. Cassian looked at his brothers, but Rhys was already stepping into the moonlight. Before either Cassian or Azriel could curse at him, he was within view of the huntress. Her eyes widened and fear laced the air around her. Her lips trembled and they knew the words that was about to escape her, they were surprised when all she did was tighten her bow. “Who are you?” She asked.

Cassian and Azriel stayed back, obvious to the panic the girl was having. “My name is Rhysand,” Rhysand said with a feline smile he only used when trying to seduce women, it worked most times.

The girl scanned him, “What is fae like you doing on this side of the wall?” None failed to hear the tremble in her voice. “You’re not allowed here.” Her bow was aimed at Rhysand’s chest, they knew Rhysand could stop it or winnow away, but that didn’t stop the Illyrians from worrying.

“I am aware, though I have special reason to be here. Fear not, it will not be for long.” He was trying to calm her, to make her lower the bow.

“I could tell the village, and they would hunt you.” She said trying to sound threatening. That’s when they noticed the ash arrow that she had ready. On instinct, Azriel and Cassian stepped into the light. More fear laced her and she took a frightening step back.

“Relax, my warriors will not harm you unless you dare to harm me.” The bow lowered slightly, but the fear was still there, still ready. “Now can you not lower the bow?”

“And let you kill me, I’d rather not.” From the look Rhys gave her, they knew he was poking in her memories, trying hard to go unnoticed, and he was succeeding.

“We will not hurt you, you have my word.” fae cannot lie. The girl lowered her bow a little more.

“What do you want?” She asked then.

“Just to see who you were.” His feline smirk showed again, “I’ve been looking for you.”

#its not the best but i tried #Feysand #feysand fanfiction #feysand au #feyre #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #elain archeron #nesta archeron #cassian #Azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf fanfiction #acomaf #a court of mist and fury

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thegreenmountainstatehetalia · 4 years

Text

Basic State Relations

Mun: So let’s get the elephant in the room out of the way.

Vermont: What elephant?

Mun: Well, some people I know wonder if you states are related to America in some way or form or are like a bunch of teenagers.

Vermont: Oh Jeezum Crow (*), here we go.

Mun: Wow, I don’t have to coax you on this one?

Vermont: Let’s just settle this. No, we are not related to America. Were not his kids. And most of us are adults with a few exceptions. Most of us are barely related to a select few states anyways, which that in of itself is a stretch, but America is one we all agree we are not related to. I mean, for Christ’s sake, some of us are about his age or even older than him!

Best way I can describe the nature of most of the states relationships with America is that we operate kind of like an office department where us states are coworkers and America is the boss that sometimes gets overruled by us. We basically coexist with each other to keep ourselves afloat.

Mun: Okay, so then that leads to the next question. What do you mean by it’s a stretch to say some states are related to some? And who is considered related to who?

Vermont: Look, some of us, like Maine, Louisiana, and I just so happened to be related to each other because we have French heritage and partly got raised by France. Doesn’t mean it’s a solid blood relation, it’s more by circumstances which then developed into personal attachments.

There’s a select few where they are definitely related to one another and are willing to admit it. Like the Dakotas; they are twins that started off as one territory that then got split when admitted to the union. The Carolinas are sisters, not twins, cause North is older than South by a little less than 30 years going by the first successful English settlements. West Virginia and Virginia are twin brothers where no one knew why one colony/state needed to representations until... that war occurred and West split from the rest of Virginia.

Then you get a lot of states that were settled by England, but they don’t call each other siblings. It really depends on a state’s personal feelings and sense of family. Like Washington had some relations with England in the beginning before American settlement, but he doesn’t call himself a brother to the Carolinas or the Virginias. Or to bring it back to me, cause the Louisiana Purchase made a bunch of states, just because we have a common relation with France, doesn’t mean I call myself the older brother of a lot of them. The only one I will make an exception to in that instance is Louisiana herself, and that’s because we both personally are fine calling ourselves related and do have a sibling-like attachment.

Mun: Okay, so who would you say you feel you’re related to?

Vermont: Well, technically Maine and I are related. Like by actual reasoning. He’s my older brother. He had some of his first settlements by French in early 1600s when he was known as Acadia. Basically it’s like we share the same father but have different mothers. France had Maine with his mother, Passamaquoddy, and then he had me with my mother, Abenaki.

Then to a lesser extent I’m related to Louisiana. She was more by choice than anything due to her mixed heritage of Spanish, French and, quite frankly, a load of other cultures, that basically made it difficult for her to pinpoint who was responsible for her existence. Maine and I had a silent agreement to just consider her a little sister to us, and she was perfectly fine with it. Certainly gained us weird looks from the other states cause... well...

Mun: Well what?

Vermont: Look, I’m not going to sugarcoat things here. We were two white men and she is a black woman. Society then was not kind to blacks at all, hell, kind of is still true today. It was rough for all three of us in the union because we chose to consider ourselves related. The states then weren’t as mature as they are now. They didn’t understand then.

But we didn’t care. We didn’t have a family in our lives for a long while. Hell, my mother died shortly after the English decided to settle in the 1660s, and Maine lost his mother before that due to smallpox. Fuck, Louisiana kept getting bounced around and poorly treated for so long she thought that was how all people acted. We provide each other what we were missing or needed the most, and we wouldn’t change that for anything. We have each other’s backs.

Mun: Sounds like you three get along pretty well.

Vermont: Well, took a minute for Maine and I. We got along enough for Louisiana’s sake, but for awhile we just didn’t want anything to do with each other on the account of we didn’t quite know if France technically cheated on Maine’s mother with my mom or not due to when Maine’s mother died, and we treated each other like we were the embodiment of that fact. It didn’t improve until shortly after I joined the union and Maine was technically considered part of Massachusetts. I mean, the rest of the states found out then that we were brothers, which in hindsight was hilarious because of the look on Mass’s face when she realized that, so we had to interact a lot. Eventually, we got along well enough that the whole France debacle is more level-headed debate and we both could agree that France wasn’t the greatest parent since he kind of neglected us in favor of Canada a lot.

Mun: I would ask a bit more about France, but that sounds like a whole can of worms that shouldn’t be opened quite yet.

Vermont: I’d prefer not. That’s whole other... topic to deal with.

Mun: Well, then I guess we can wrap up for now. Later we can go in depth with different states or your relationship with America or other countries as well as your history.

Vermont: I’m guessing it’s up to asks who people want to know more about unless no one asks for a while and then you pick?

Mun: Exactly!

Some Notes:

Jeezum Crow - a Vermont expression for “Jesus Christ”

Apparently, the lost colony of Roanoke is technically in present day North Carolina, and their first settlement dates back to about the 1640s, though settling was very difficult , while South Carolina’s first settlement was in 1670 at Albemarle Point (though I also saw that under North Carolina, so I’m having a little creative license here because of the confusion, and I wanted to be different from a lot of other people who consider them twins)

the war that Vermont is hesitant on saying while talking about the Virginias is referring to the American Civil War; I headcannon a lot of the states that were involved just won’t talk about the war due to a lot of psychological damage and every single one of them having done horrible things to one another that they don’t know how to cope with

Washington and Oregon were part of the Oregon Country and the land was given to America by Britain due to a compromise between the two that nearly escalated to war

I headcannon that Maine was also considered the short lived Acadia Colony by the French, which was around 1604

Passamaquoddy is a Native American tribe that was found in eastern Maine and New Brunswick, and most of which died from smallpox upon contacting the Europeans

Abenaki spanned a large area, but was split between the Western Abenaki (mostly Vermont) and the Eastern Abenaki (New Hampshire and western Maine), though some Abenaki tribes went into Massachusetts as well; currently only recognized in Canada

The Wabanaki Alliance was a very loose confederacy between several New England native American tribes against the Iroquois (who they were long time rivals and enemies of) and several European nations. All tribes that were part of the alliance all maintained their own sovereignty and independence from one another.

#hetalia #aph states #aph vermont #thegreenmountainstate #hetalia native americans #some history for y'all

0 notes

barksinthewoods · 6 years

Text

18W43

If I didn't mention it before, one item which I used for some time to help with the creeping drowsiness with a driving job was cough drops. The sensation seemed to help maintain alertness. With the colder temperatures in the air, I need to run the heat a tiny bit to maintain a steady level inside the cab, and with the way it generates heat, it means that the windows should be opened too - otherwise I'll begin to sweat in a matter of minutes. I have to imagine that this difference from having the windows closed at all time to keep AC contained in the summer is the difference, because after a few days of having a very drowsy spell at a very specific time of the day (leaing up to and out of which, everything was fine), I finally determined the cough drops to be the culprit. I've avoided having them for the last few days and haven't had the drowsiness hit me as it did before. I think the cough drops' expansion of the nasal passages leading to me breathing in more heated air is at root to this entire ordeal. It's basically the only thing that is different from months before. It was her birthday this week. The car's Check Engine light came on previously, so I arranged to take it to our mechanic and rather than try to do a drop off and pick up, I chose to simply go there when it was convenient and work it into the day. I assumed it was a gas cap issue since everything else sounded normal and when I checked it, it felt a bit loose. It turns out that it was a faulty thermostat, which is still a relief for a resolution given what all other possibilities an issue with a car of this age could be, but it was still $120 and 75 minutes to have the repair be done. This cut right into the middle of the afternoon, so any kind of plans we had to go somewhere nice for a meal were abandonded. We had shopping to do and collectively deemed it to be more important. Songs. Home plays were rather strong on the whole for most of the week, and I'm very grateful for it. A new clear for Reflection Into The Eden left me rather emotional; it was one of those days and times where everything just felt natural and I rolled along with the chart without as much as a second thought about it until it was over. At the arcade, our trip out lent itself to my second arcade visit of the week, and it turned out to be a good time to do it since I was just one credit shy of having the grind event finished with CB; she got to see the very end of it. That was nice.

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A 2029.F 751.527.120.17.137 0282 1469 2018-10-21T20:57:22:155Z 0/16 02.35- 0069- new world 43.65 D 1995.F 705.585.521.221.716 0066 2285 1060 115.56 2018-10-21T21:00:17:697Z 0/5 07.31+ 0334+ 136+62+100-93-241- 0061- 2016-11-16T23:56:42:398Z the deep striker B14 52.64 C 1916.F 680.556.405.53.310 0120 1820 1728 005.32 2018-10-22T20:31:05:350Z 0/1 夜のサングラス 69.73 A 1831.F 696.439.136.15.75 0155 1313 0906 044.92 2018-10-22T20:34:18:362Z 0/11 02.13+ 0056+ 39+22-20-2+11- 0000= 2013-11-25T02:01:03:862Z diagram 60.31 B 2042.F 733.576.292.26.215 0247 1693 2018-10-22T20:38:24:941Z 0/10 01.03- 0035- ピルスアドヴェンチュア 56.67 B 2158.F 793.572.344.56.292 0122 1904 1533 024.20 2018-10-22T20:42:56:549Z 0/5 00.95+ 0036+ 40+44-16-1+15+ 0000= 2016-07-29T21:44:38:753Z ドリームグライダー 59.06 B 2398.F 886.626.343.49.284 0116 2030 1787 013.59 2018-10-22T20:46:26:333Z 0/4 00.39+ 0016+ 27-70+25-2+47- 0053- 2016-05-06T20:42:43:470Z thunderbolt 36.95 D 2085.F 694.697.734.331.1287 0036 2821 1677 068.21 2018-10-22T20:49:10:404Z 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1424 2018-10-25T20:39:01:899Z 0/7 02.74- 0078- CaptivAte～裁き～ mix 64.46 B 2135.F 808.519.194.62.251 0121 1656 1173 041.17 2018-10-25T20:42:51:698Z 0/14 00.91+ 0030+ 16+2-19-8+8+ 0000= 2017-12-14T03:43:12:681Z remote control 41.67 D 2436.F 853.730.737.357.1066 0110 2923 2018-10-25T20:47:06:642Z 0/9 04.46- 0261- cynthia 34.40 D 1475.F 498.479.625.308.880 0104 2144 2018-10-25T20:49:45:826Z 0/9 02.45- 0105- solid state squad 57.41 B 2425.F 897.631.339.138.418 0224 2112 2018-10-25T20:54:12:643Z 0/14 01.47- 0062- somebody like you 64.61 B 1278.F 478.322.119.15.106 0121 0989 2018-10-25T20:57:27:802Z 0/10 00.66- 0013- vox up 54.73 C 2199.F 782.635.363.48.378 0161 2009 2018-10-25T21:01:29:074Z 0/11 01.44- 0058- passionate fate 59.24 B 1924.F 698.528.235.74.256 0090 1624 2018-10-26T20:35:53:500Z 0/12 04.25- 0138- super rush 33.08 E 1906.F 653.600.862.367.1259 0039 2881 1719 067.59 2018-10-26T20:38:57:923Z 0/2 01.54+ 0089+ 38+13+12-27-39- 0009+ 2018-08-23T20:37:41:351Z set u free 62.63 B 1795.P 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severelydroughted · 6 years

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NYC Met Museum Winter 2018

The following is a collection of notes about pieces I came across in the Met this past trip (Wednesday 31 January 2017), and what ideas these pieces inspired.

1. Bust of a Satyr. Poggio a Caiano and Michelangelo. Florence c.1440.bronze.

This piece was against a wall in a relatively dark part of the gallery, and was so small it could have been mistaken for shapeless rock from just 5 feet away. Upon closer inspection, the bust really captured my attention because of the facial features. I was--and still am--unsure of the expression this man wears on his face; to me he looks gleeful and full of life, as if he were frozen mid-laugh, but to my partner, he looked disgusted with a wretched scowl adorning his lips, beard wild from anger. Its small scale reminded me of a collection a few years ago from the Guggenheim that was a joint project between Peter Fischli and David Weiss that captured small moments in time and added some sort of humor to it. This may lead me into pursuing some sort of project dealing with a malleable material and the mixture of small things coming together to make a bigger thing, almost like a mandala where layers of small details add up to a larger, beautiful image.

2. Mural Fragment of a Male Mide in Three-Quarter Length. Michelangelo.

This was from a special exhibit that focused on the masterpieces of the sistine chapel painted by Michelangelo. This struck me as particularly interesting because the face looks like that of an older man, yet he has the body of a fit, young man. I am unsure of this image’s relationship to the ceiling of the SIstine Chapel, the delicacy and attention to detail are stunning. The smooth and graceful flow of the man’s robes as he moves is very elegant; from the pieces I have done this year and the year before which dealt with movement, I have never been able to capture the refined lines of a cloth or garment. Of course this is stylized, but I would like to further experiment with long exposure shots or even possibly photoshop to create something more similar to this static movement that is so often portrayed in Michelangelo’s painted works.

3. Arch from the Original Building’s Fifth Avenue Facade(+museum buddy).Calvert Vaux and Jacob Wrey Mould.c.1880

This little fragment of the museum’s past was tucked into a quiet, dark corner where only those who walked slowly enough would notice it. As you can see from the close proximity of the door to the right of the arch, it is not an element of the hallway that is very much presented as a primary attraction, which, just like the Bust of a Satyr, successfully captured my attention. After spending months learning about the facades of buildings of ancient peoples and cultures very much foreign to us, I have grown to pay more attention to the outward appearance of buildings (in this case no to outward). The seemingly segmented-arch with its circular elements caught my attention because it shared characteristics with the earliest from of open-spandrel segmented arched from china as well as the pointed features of an Islamic mihrab, and possibly even a hint of early gothic elements. This made me think about how crossing cultures (something that was done with religions in the early renaissance) can produce an end result that is more beautiful than it would have been had it been made up solely of one culture’s ideals. I have been working for a few years now with motifs and traditions revolving my culture, so trying to branch out more and include other elements from other cultures that are close to me (i.e. Arabic/Turkish) could create a wonderful contrast in the designs of my future compositions.

4. The Bow. Cast (in c. 1920) from a wax sculpture made c. 1896-99. bronze. This piece was in a separate gallery with other figures cast in bronze that had were posed in different dance-like movements. Many of them were similar but varied in size. This one caught my attention because it was somewhat more crude looking than the other statues in the gallery. The idea that something as graceful as a bow is presented in a way that is so loose and rough was very interesting and once again reminded me about the Peter Fischli and David Weiss collection because they had a very loose form much like this one.

5. The Dutch Fleet Assembling Before the Four Day’s Battle. Willem van de Velde II. c.1670.oil on canvas.

The delicacy and elecancy of this piece captivated me. The lighting, which emphasises the ship in the background more so than the one closest to us reminds me of photographs were a framing technique is that of using an object that is closer to the viewer, blurring it and then making it darker than the object farther away from us than the closer one. The warm colour pallet is also one I would like to play more with because I have found that throughout my time working with photography, I have been drawn to blue hues and cooler tones more than the warmer, dusty colours. Overall, this introduces the challenge of working with a different colour pallet, movement and lighting (when referring to photography).

6. Portrait of a Man, Possibly Nicolaes Pietersz Duyst van Voorhout. Frans Hals. c.1636-38. oil on canvas.

This piece, much like the previous, has a warmer colour pallet that I would really like to work more with. The expression of the man is also very interesting, he adaps a pseudo contrapposto, instead of being a typical portrait, which has a very stoic and static representation of a person, this presents the viewer with a more playful and animated view of the person in the painting. His seemingly standoffish expression changes when the viewer looks at the bigger picture: his hair is unruly and his face is flushed, almost as if this man was caught in the middle of boasting drunkenly about how richt and powerful he is. The simplicity of his garments also forces the viewer to pay more attention to the face, letting the viewers decide for themselves if he is trying to act above those around him or if he is an approachable fellow that likes standing a little funny.

7. Soap Bubbles. Thomas Couture. c.1859. oil on canvas

The first time I saw this, I thought it was a young girl who was caught daydreaming, but when I read the description provided by the museum, I learned that it was actually a young schoolboy who is contemplating the transience of life which is interesting because he is so young and is thinking, essentially, about death and the mortality of man. Creating pieces that have underline messages is difficult because, just like I did, viewers may not perceive the piece the way the artists intends for it to be. Just like my rose window piece, which was titled 558 to commemorate the victims of the Las Vegas shooting, the piece is not always read the way it was intended to. I want to challenge myself to work more on creating an easier way for viewers to understand what I am trying to convey without resorting to cliche elements.

8. Self Portrait with Two Pupils, Marie Gabrielle Capet and Marie Marguerite Carreaux de Rosemond. Adelaide Labille Guiard. c.1785. oil on canvas.

This final piece was captivating, in my opinion, because the painting is a self portrait of a female painter. In the 16th century, women were not allowed to/thought to be able to do something as complex as compose great masterpieces like those created by men. Her smug expression, as well as the inclusion of her female pupils, serve as a sort of biting of the thumb to the social norms of the time in a very humorous way. This piece was not so much inspiring in terms of the composition, but rather was interesting to me because of the smugness of the painter. With a contemporary lense, she can be seen almost as a feminist icon since what she was doing at the time would have been deemed extremely progressive.

#metropolitan museum of art #nyc trip #michelangelo #adelaide labille-guiard #the bow #frans hals #Willem van de Velde II #Poggio a Caiano #thomas couture #oil on canvas #bronze #inspiration

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