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quietmyfearswith · 4 years

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was your favorite ; bucky barnes x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 4,152 words

summary — in which bucky barnes still lives with his ex-girlfriend following their break up.

warnings —fluff?? angst?? ex to lovers, sexual innuendo (just one) cursing i think, sad!insecure!bucky

pairing — bucky barnes x fem!reader

a/n — it too has been long since i got to write for bucky???? anyway i’d love to hear feedback :D also if you choose to follow me please have your age/age range stated in your bio..

tagging — @la-cey @pedropcl @slutforcevans @iloveshawnieboi

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

Buck! Have you seen where my cardigan is?” Y/N was bent down over the dryer as she was ruffling through the pile of clothes she placed on the machine to dry but was too lazy to get it out and fold them. The super soldier being addressed to lifted his head from reading the newspaper to cast a worried glance on the woman, “I don’t know; I just did my laundry and I don’t think any of your clothes got mixed up with mine.”

With a huff she got up from her kneeling position, making her hit her head into the top of the machine, then walked away from their laundry room, groaning and rubbing the part of her head that hit the machine; joining his presence in the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water she pouted as she thought of where her sweater was. “Why are you looking for the cardigan anyway? And which one is it?”

Biting her bottom lip, she avoided eye contact with his blue eyes as she stammered out, “You know, it was the one you gave me.” Placing the paper down on the breakfast bar, he leaned closer and pouted at her, “I’m hurt, doll; I knew we broke up but I never thought you were petty enough to throw away my gifts.”

Squinting her eyes at him with a mocking pout, “Ha ha, you know it’s that I don’t treasure your gifts, Buck.” Feeling left out from the whole conversation, Alpine jumped up on the countertops and snuggled herself to Y/N’s stomach; letting her fingers scratch the white fur of the needy cat, “Al, can you go tell your dad how exaggerated he’s being?”

Scoffing, he snatched Alpine from his ex girlfriend's arms and covered his cat’s whole face with his metal hand as if shielding her from evil, “Don’t you dare play favorites! Not with my child who was mine first before she was yours.”

“Let’s be honest Buck, she always cuddles up to my side every time we watch a movie,” Y/N jabbed at him before moving to get her bag, slinging it on her shoulder. Bucky’s blue eyes followed her form from when she picked up her purse in the living room and was about to speak until the sound of someone knocking on their door cut them both off. “I’ll get it,” She placed a hand on his pec and tapped it, “I was leaving anyway.”

The super soldier was thankful that she quickly removed her palm from his chest so she wouldn’t hear how fast his chest was beating; despite having broken up a few months ago, he still gets flustered under her touch. “Hey Steve, how are you?” The Captain hugged her as he entered their apartment, “I’m good; you going somewhere?”

Nodding, she moved out of their apartment and waved the two super soldiers goodbye, “I am! Meeting up with some friends today; bye you two!” When she left the flat, Steve smirked at Bucky, “I got to say two more months of you two living together or not getting back together and I’m gonna lose this bet I have with Sam.”

Expertly, Steve dodged the crumpled up facial tissue Bucky threw at him as he scowled, “Why are you here anyway, punk?” Alpine jumped off Bucky’s arms and settled herself on her bed by the television as Bucky began cleaning up his mug and bowl. “Well jerk, I wanted to come over and talk about the mission.”

After placing all the utensils in the sink, Bucky looked at his best friend with a scowl, “What mission? We both don’t go anymore and just train the recruits.” Loving how riled up his best friend was being, the former captain chuckled loudly as he held his hands up since he got caught, “Okay you caught me. I was just bored at the compound and wanted to swing by.”

A soapy hand pointed to the door as the brunette said, “Well you swung by and said hi; now leave.” Planting his bum firm on one of the bar stools instead of leaving, Steve shot a serious glance on his best friend, “I will after I get the truth out of you.”

Childishly, the metal hand sprayed some water on the blonde who yelled out in surprise upon feeling his face dampen with water, “Real mature, Buck!”

“Says the guy who visited my home because he was bored and decided to play investigator on me!”

Laughing at his friend’s antics and frustrated tone, Steve sighed, “Come on, pal, be honest with yourself this time; why is it you and Y/N still live together even after breaking up?” After moving to place the set of cutleries to dry, Bucky was wiping his flesh hand with a towel as he looked at his friend with furrowed eyebrows. When he was met however with a mixture of worry and stern glance, the former Winter Soldier sighed as he relaxed his brows and he planted his palms on the granite top, “Well it’s beneficial for the both of us.”

“How is it beneficial? You guys are ex with benefits?”

“Idiot! Not like that,” Bucky quickly clarified, “Economically benefit, with inflation and capitalism increasing the cost of living, it helps us save big on rent.” Steve had his mouth hung agape in disbelief at the bullshit his best friend was selling on him. “Economically benefit? You both can afford a high luxury penthouse with both your salaries alone,” His arms opened wide as he referred to their current flat, “And you chose to live in this compact two bedroom apartment following your breakup? You’re not fooling me, pal.”

After grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge and handing one to Steve after he opened both, Bucky gulped down the grainy beverage he sighed out loud as he confessed, “Maybe part of me hopes we both can get back together,” He had to shoot Steve a look when the blonde squealed excitedly at his confession, “But we both just somewhat talked about how much of a hassle it is if we both moved out and during that time we just signed a new lease so it made sense at the time.”

“I didn’t need to learn the last part, you could have just said you wished to get back together and that would have made me happy,” Steve explained before drinking down almost half of the bottle. Rolling his eyes, Bucky walked to the living room and settled himself on the couch — Alpine too followed him and settled herself on his lap, her distinct way of seeking attention — as he stroked her fur and replied, “Well good thing I didn’t really ask for what you wanted, no? Hold on, what are you really here for, by the way?”

Taking the loveseat that was adjacent from where Bucky was sitting, Steve plopped down as he grabbed the remote off their coffee table and turned the television on, “Did you forget that I was coming over to watch the game?”

“And you couldn’t watch it on your own at your living quarter which is bigger and even has the latest television model?”

Steve threw his head back in laughter at his friend’s remark, “Well I could; but the thing is if I didn’t you would probably be grinching your life away,” He tipped his bottle to Alpine who was sprawled over his lap as his metal fingers were delicately scratching her belly, “By the looks of it, you’ve already achieved step one of being a grinch.”

His flesh hand grabbed for one of the throw pillows that Y/N bought first when they moved into this apartment and successfully struck his friend’s head, “Apologize to Alpine this instant!”

A scoff plus an offended look was Steve’s reaction before turning his head back to the game, “Dick! You knew I was kidding! Is this how you are with Y/N, hm? No wonder she broke up with you.”

It was a sensitive topic that Bucky never fully disclosed with any of the friends; somehow he felt that what happened between the two of them should stay with them. And there were many instances where Bucky wanted to tell someone what happened just so he knew how to reconcile with her — but somehow there was always a reason that prevented him from doing so.

“Punk, how would you go about asking your ex to get back together?” His question had the former Captain America smiling; even though his entire face was focused on the game on the screen, the pending conversation had his attention far more than the actual sport. “Well I don’t know, it would depend on how I broke up with that ex.”

Bucky knew what he was doing — he was fishing for more information regarding how things went down. And maybe he does actually have a suggestion. Without going into much detail, he answered, “The breakup seemed mutual and beneficial at first but as time went on it seems to not be the case anymore.”

“What kind of riddle is that, Shakespeare?!”

Somewhat pleased with his confused state, he chuckled, “That’s all the details you’re going to get about my breakup with Y/N,” Part of Bucky was offended with how his Steve let out a disappointed grunt but continued on, “Right now, what’s more important is I get back with her.”

It had been almost an hour and yet the only sounds that could be heard were the announcers detailing the game and the cheers coming from the stadium as the two centenarians thought about how to go about Bucky’s current dilemma. Until Steve broke the silence as he placed his empty beer bottle by the leg of the coffee table, “Why not just be honest and tell her you want to get back with her?”

“It’s not that easy,” Came his quick response; too quick, Steve suspected. Turning slightly to face him, he saw how Alpine now had Bucky’s attention as he baited his metal finger to the feline who was trying her best to bite on it, “It won’t be that easy, at least I think it won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I messed up,” He confessed quietly as he pursed his lips as he recalled how that night went.

“Bubba, did you happen to get the chocolate I asked to buy?” She asked after ruffling through all their cabinets twice, pouting as she failed to see the sweet she has been craving for. He was cleaning the litter box that was in their bathroom so his voice was faint but she heard it loud and clear, “I forgot to, bub; sorry ‘bout that!”

With a sigh, she closed the cabinet door and instead grabbed a glass of water before walking to the dining table, “It’s okay! I’ll just get some tomorrow or some other time.”

As he was washing his hands, he caught a faint glance of her disappointed frown on the mirror. For a few moments, he racked his brain for the other times wherein he saw her frown due to something he’s done. There were far too many instances that came into mind; Bucky didn’t like that at all.

Despite just drying off his hands with a hand towel, he could feel his flesh hand dampen with sweat as he approached her on the dining table and sit at the chair opposite from where she was — something that she noticed, tearing her eyes away from her laptop, making her feel that something was wrong, “You okay, Buck?”

“I think we need to break up,” Came his immediate answer as he stared at her eyes that showed sadness and grief. “What?” Was all that she could choke out as she pushed her laptop to the side so she could direct his attention to him fully.

“I think we need to break up,” He repeated, his voice sounded stronger and more determined than when he said it earlier; but it was just a front for his insecurities and doubts, “It’s something that we both saw coming, but we’re in denial of its approach.”

Tears were now freely falling out of her eyes as she struggled to get out a coherent response, “But Bucky, we can work it out. What is it? Where did I go wrong?” She was to add some more questions but she was stopped by her hiccups.

Both hands grasped hers and rubbed her knuckles soothingly to calm her down, “I’m sorry Y/N, but this is just for the best for the both of us. It’s better we part our ways now rather than later when my ivy has fully engulfed your brick walls that you have put up.”

Snatching her hands from his hold, she crossed her arms, “Don’t feed me that bullshit, Buck. tell me the real reason why you want us to split.” Gone was her earlier tone of sorrow and was now replaced with shaky strength.

When he just looked at her blankly silently, Y/N just bit her lip as she grabbed for her laptop as she scrolled for a certain email; and when she found it, she showed the screen to her now ex boyfriend, “Guess it was a wrong time to sign for a year-long lease huh?”

“We can still live together for the time being,” His immediate answer surprised the two of them and he decided to cover it up by explaining, “We don’t want to pay an additional fee for infringing the contract. Plus that saves us a whole lot of money for when we move out of here.”

Her mind was foggy with sadness which prevented her from thinking logically so she found herself nodding, “Okay, that makes sense.” She took her laptop from his look and began to search for a new bed frame and mattress. “I’ll move to the spare bedroom and get my things later on.”

Following her drying of tears, she now had a determined pout on her face as she began to scout new items for her bedroom, Bucky came to realize the weight of what he had just done. At the expense of her broken and devastated state, he spared his insecurities and doubts. But he didn’t feel even an ounce of relief, instead he just felt miserable seeing her become so detached from him; it’s your fault, you idiot, he scolded himself.

“Oh, okay. I’m just gonna lay down for a while,” She merely nodded when he stood from the his seat and grabbed Alpine that was on his playing with his toes; as he laid his back on the soft mattress were they both spent time and created some of their best memories, he couldn’t help cuddle the feline closer to him as he now looked back on those memories wistfully, “Looks like you’re gonna be my cuddle buddy from now on, Al.”

“Idiot!” Steve yelled after hearing the story and throwing the pillow back to Bucky with the cushion that was thrown to him earlier, “Let’s unpack what you did wrong here; one, you broke up with her because of your insecurities instead of working on it yourself or with her.”

Bucky had a deep scowl on his face and was about to rebut until Steve held a hand up to let him know he was not yet done listing things, “Two, you didn’t even really give her the option on whether she wanted to break up or what. And lastly, you decided to still live together despite splitting under the guise of not paying more due to infringing the lease and moving out, but you guys have two months left before you have to renew or end your contract! What the hell’s your plan after?”

When Steve said it like that, it did look even worse than it initially was. The former assassin could only groan out loud as he removed his hands from stroking Al’s whie fur and instead covered his face in shame, “I know! I was dumb, and still am! I just want Y/N back, okay?”

Steve silently chuckled as he took in his friend’s whine and Y/N’s stunned look as she had just arrived from going out. Noticing the lack of white fur ball on his lap, he removed his hands from shielding his face as he looked at Steve, and was puzzled when the blonde was smirking but did not have the cat.

“Where?” The question died on his throat as he heard her soft mewl and looked to his right to see Y/N cuddling Alpine in her arms, “Hi, I just got home.” The blank expression she had made it difficult for the two super soldiers to read her; Steve however knew that the two needed privacy in order to talk.

“Well I’m heading out,” The former Captain America stood up and patted his best friend’s shoulder as a way of saying goodbye and good luck, “See you both soon.” He kissed Y/N’s forehead goodbye and left the former lovers.”

“Do you want to talk about what I just heard you say or do you want me to forget about it, Buck?”

Being with her for nearly three years he knew that once her interest was piqued, it would be difficult for her to lose her interest in it as she would do anything to feed her curiosity. “What would you rather do?”

This was new, for the previous times they had confrontation he had decided for her; and to be able to choose for herself — and possibly for the both of them. “I’d like to talk about it; if it’s fine with you of course.”

He gestured for her to take the seat beside her — which she gladly took after placing her bag on the dining table and carrying Alpine with her. “I heard you saying you wanted me back — is there any truth to that?”

“Yes, there is,” He sounded a mixture of confident and desperate; but he didn’t care as he just wanted her back, “I want you back and it was a mistake on my part to let you go.”

“But why did you let me go?”

“Because I was an insecure, self-doubting coward. Do you remember the day when I broke up with you?” She nodded her head as she scoffed, “Obviously, I do.” Her sass had him chuckling, lightening up the mood a little. “Well that day, I saw the look of disappointment on your face when I failed to get you chocolate. I thought that if I can mess this small thing up, what more when it comes to more important things — like an anniversary, a mortgage payment, important events, and things like that.”

Her hands reached out for his and gently kissed the knuckles to calm him down as he was now breathing heavily as he continued to open up to her, “I always knew deep down in me that you deserved to be with someone as great as you; and believe me everyday I tried to be that person. But slowly I saw not only how I wasn’t living up to be the person you deserve, but somehow I just wasn’t making you happy any more.”

Despite letting out what he had been bottling up, Bucky felt both heavier and lighter; lighter because now he had told her the real reason as to why they fell out and what has been haunting his mind for months now. But the fact that she now had a say on what goes on between them made him even more anxious compared to how he would be when going on dangerous missions.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through this battle alone, bubba,” Her statement coupled with her use of their pet name for each other had his heart twisting in a good way, “I wished you had reached out to me so that we both could work through this.”

“You’re not mad? Or disappointed? Or disgusted with me?”

She shook her head as she once again placed a loving kiss on his knuckles, “Why would I do so? You were dealing with anxieties and doubts, I can’t exactly blame you for those can I?” He shrugged his shoulders as he avoided looking her in the eyes, “But still,” Came his weak reply.

Clicking her tongue, she wrapped her arms around him, bringing his head to her chest so she could cuddle and comfort him as they were somewhat laying down on the couch, “Next time you got something going in your head, you talk to me, okay?”

He nodded against her chest and he couldn’t hold back the soft whine of happiness when she kissed his forehead, “I meant what I said, that I want you back.”

“Are you sure that’s what you really want?” She stiffened against his hold; Bucky stood up from where laid comfortably and took her with him, looking her straight in the eye with passion, “It is, bubba. I swear.”

“I don’t know, Buck,” She replied weakly and avoided looking him in the eye, “Maybe this is just your way of easing your guilt and making amends with your past talking. You don’t have to lie, not to me.”

“It’s not, I promise,” He placed his hands on her waist, grabbing her to situate her on his lap, “I love you and I never stopped, nor will I ever. You are someone I can never get sick of — I will always want to be with you, no matter if we do something fun and exciting or something mundane and domestic. I want all of you and want to share my life with you.”

“But what happens when you get those thoughts again? Will you leave me hanging again?”

Hating how small and meek her voice was, he shook his head as he kissed the tip of her nose, “I won’t. Like you said, I’ll work on it alone and with you. I love you, bubba.” She could see no sign of lies or deceit in his eyes and loved what she was hearing — he was a man of his word and knew that he wouldn’t boldly claim such a thing if he had no plans of following through with it.

“I can give you time to think about it if you’d like,” The proposition left his tongue as she suddenly kissed his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him even more closer. He smiled into the kiss as he rubbed her back soothingly, missing the heat that radiated off her skin.

“No time needed to think about it, bub,” She breathed out after pulling away from the kiss, her lips still against his, “I want you back too.”

“I hope you’d still want me back even after my final confession.”

She pulled away from him completely so she could take in his nervous smirk, “What final confession?”

Scratching the back of his neck nervously, he disclosed, “I took the cardigan from the dryer.” She laughed at his silly confession before asking, “Why’d you do it, bubba? It smelt like you and I dressed it up on one of my pillows because I missed you.”

Slapping her hand to his pec, she pretended to be upset before laying her head on his chest, “Well I hope it made your lonely nights better! I had an important reason to wear that today.”

“Oh? And what could that be, missy?” He tickled her sides to get her to speak; after a fit full of laughters she did, “Well I was going out with Rachel and she decided to bring along her friend in hopes of setting me up with them.” By wearing the cardigan, Y/N knew that the person Rachel invited over would be less persistent to pursue since the words “James Buchanan Barnes’ property” were sewn on a patch on the clothing article — a gift Bucky gave her when they passed the one year mark of their relationship.

“So you were cheating on me!” He jokingly accused her to which she pinched his ears as she reminded him, “Excuse you! I was being set up with someone before we got back together — it’s not cheating you know!”

He too laughed at their whole debacle before he stroked her cheek with the flesh hand saying, “I missed you so much, bubba.” She was about to share the same sentiments before they got interrupted by a needy cat who placed herself in between Bucky and Y/N.

“I think Al missed being in the middle of our cuddle sessions too, bubba,” She noted as the cat purred when she and Bucky were scratching the space in between her ears.

With a large grin on his face, he tickled Alpine as he kissed Y/N fervently on the lips, “Look Al, we’re one, happy, and complete family again.”

#quietmyfearswith #please dont steal my work thank you #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #james barnes x reader #james barnes x fem!reader #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader angst

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thosekidswhohuntmonsters · 6 years

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Princess

Summary: What happens when the reader accidentally lets it slip that she’s always secretly wanted to be called a certain pet name? Will Bucky ignore it, or will he be unable to resist his teasing nature.

Word Count: 1489

Authors note: just a lil cute oneshot to get everyone in their Bucky feels! Maybe ill write a part two..maybe I won't...let me know!

Read Part Two: Here

My AO3 My Masterlist

***please reblog/comment on my fics if you enjoy them! it lets me know I should keep on doing what I’m doing***

Leaning forward you rested your sore body against the cool granite of the kitchen island. You had just gotten back from your morning training session with some of the boys, and it had been a hard one.

The closer you’d gotten to Steve you’d learned that the whole “Serious, let’s always follow the rules, good boy” thing was just an act. However, the only time he was a serious hard ass was during training.

The man worked you all, and he worked you all hard. It made you feel like you were at some crazy boot-camp, your only saving grace that Bucky was always working out with you all too.

Daydreaming about Bucky was enough to drown out Steve’s rigidness and help you make it through training. The man was beautiful, and he was even more beautiful while working out.

Whenever you’d hear him moan and groan during sparring sessions you’d feel like you’d die right then and there and go off to heaven. It was like the man could make running a mile sinful.

After today’s particularly rough session you all had headed to the kitchen. Each of you waiting for breakfast to end your zombie like state and bring you back to the land of the living. As an added bonus Steve had promised to make you all smoothies, no doubt feeling guilty for working you all so hard.

“Glad to see you’re still alive there”.

Picking up your head you looked up to see Bucky standing across from you. His face still flushed and beautifully full of color. You tried to ignore how deliciously red his lips looked, “How do I know this isn’t all some dream and I’m really passed out on the training room floor?”.

Bucky grinned in response, glad to see that you still had a sense of humour before sunrise. He now leaned against the kitchen island too, “So you’d be dreaming of me then huh?”. The super-soldier had caught you, but you did your best to play it off.

“Did I say dream? I meant nightmare”.

Bucky’s smile never faltered, in fact it seemed that your teasing was only encouraging him. Before he could think of an equally good comeback, Steve placed two smoothies down onto the counter.

“Good work pushing yourself (y/n) I’m proud. Now drink up and take it easy for the rest of the day. And you did pretty good too punk”.

You didn’t know what made you happier, Steve’s praise or the food suddenly put before you. In an attempt to show your gratitude you placed a quick kiss on to the super soldiers cheek. Teasingly you said, “Thanks old man”.

Despite how many times you’d done this before, Steve still blushed. He wasn’t used to getting the appreciation he so rightfully deserved, but you never missed an opportunity. Steve smiled, “No problem doll”.

Soon enough he went back to making smoothies for the rest of the team, leaving you and Bucky somewhat secluded and on your own. Stark’s kitchen was humongous, and even though half the team was in it, it was so big that it still allowed you and Bucky to have some privacy.

“Did you see that? He called me doll”, you said with a teasing smirk. You were acting as if his little pet-name was some badge or honor. Bucky took a sip of his smoothie, “So you’re a petnames kinda girl then huh?”.

You found yourself blushing, “Isn’t doll just the 1930’s version of dude?”. You knew it was only some light teasing, but Bucky saying your name out loud already had an effect on you let alone him actually calling you a pet name.

Bucky laughed softly, “The 1930’s version of dude was dude. Steve calls you doll because he thinks you’re sweet. Now if he calls you babydoll that would be a whole other story”.

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach with this new topic of discussion. It felt as though you were in dangerous waters, but you kinda liked the rush. Unable to help yourself you asked, “And why is that?”.

“You call a girl babydoll when she’s got you wrapped around her pretty little finger”.

There was a glimmer in his eyes as he explained the reasoning behind the pet name. Clearly the conversation was not as innocent as it appeared. His full gaze was suddenly too much to handle, so you took another sip from your drink.

You knew that silence would give away your feelings so you grabbed for the first thing you could think of. Quickly you confessed, “I’ve always secretly liked princess…”. Bucky’s eyes widened in response.

He had thought from your body language that you’d change topics, not confess something like that. Slowly he repeated the word, “Princess..mhm yeah I like that. Now that’s what you call a girl who doesn’t know how much trouble she is”.

Your heartbeat quickened as you wondered if you were making things up, or Bucky was hinting at you. In order to keep things casual you asked, “Trouble?”. Maybe he was joking around with you and complaining or something.

“Trouble in a good way, like she has no idea she can bring a man to his knees without even trying”.

By some miracle you stopped yourself from nearly choking on your smoothie. You could feel Bucky’s piercing gaze, but still you wondered if you were just seeing what you wanted to see.

All you could muster was, “Now see that sounds bad”. To your surprise he didn’t back down or ease up. Bucky licked his lips, “No it’s good...and that’s why it’s bad”. You swallowed hard, the conversation taking a clear turn.

As a saving grace one of the new recruits had walked up to you both. Without knowing he had cut through the tension of the moment and thrown you a life-line. It was West, one of the recruits that had been training with you all for the last month or so.

He looked like someone that belonged on a magazine cover, or on a poster in some teenager’s dedicated shrine. He looked too perfect to be human, but also so beautifully human all in the same breath.

He smiled at you, “I don’t know whether to thank you, or hate you, for basically kicking my ass today during training”. His soft laugh lightened the mood and pulled you from Bucky’s dangerous siren call.

You smiled just as brightly, “I’ll con Steve into making you another smoothie if you want?”. It was your small attempt at getting West to do anything but hate you. He bit his lip, “How about after next session you let me take you out for smoothies, I’ll make sure they’re kale and everything so Steve doesn’t kill us”.

You were incredibly flattered by his offer, and somewhat shocked by it. West had a bit of a reputation for being a player and you’d never pictured yourself part of his game. As much of a rush as it felt, you still didn’t want to tell him yes.

“Only if you kick my ass next session, instead of me kicking yours”.

West nodded his head in agreement. It wasn’t the answer he’d been looking for, but it was much more exciting than a no. He gave you one last devilish smirk, “I’m always up for a challenge sweetheart”.

Bucky couldn’t believe how cocky the little twirp had been. He’d heard that West had had no trouble sleeping around with some of the other recruits, but it baffled him to think you’d be the same.

It wasn’t that Bucky looked down upon the other girls for sleeping with West, hell their body their choice, Bucky just resented the fact that West acted as if one smirk and a suggestive tone would be enough to get you on your knees.

“That was a pretty nice way of telling him no”.

The earlier tension had faded, and you were just happy to be around a man who didn’t think he was an adonis. You laughed, “I don’t think I can date someone who calls me sweetheart”.

“You don’t like sweetheart..I’ll remember that princess”.

The words had flowed so easily from his lips that it took you a moment to even catch on to what he’d said. Steve hadn’t been lying when he’d told you that back in the day Bucky was a ladies man.

Before you could respond he was already making his way toward the rest of the group. He’d stayed long enough to watch the look on your face as you processed someone calling you something you’d always secretly wanted to be called, but left before you could do anything about.

He couldn’t help it, Bucky was a goddamn tease. He’d felt as though he’d gotten a second wind after watching the clear look of desire across your face. Bucky smirked to himself...this was just the beginning.

***please reblog/comment on my fics if you enjoy them! it lets me know I should keep on doing what I’m doing***

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Sebastian Stan #Steve Rogers #Chris Evans

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probably-not-star-lord · 5 years

Text

Purely Physical (Loki x Reader)

A/N: I haven’t written in ages so like you’re welcome for this trash

Request: heyyy i love your writing and was just wondering if you were interested in a Loki x reader where the reader is just a random punk chick whos afraid of emotional intimacy and shes trying to tell herself the attraction she feels for Loki is purely physical, but even she herself finds it hard to believe, no matter how much she wants to...? in all these fics the girl is like very anxious and romantic and shy and i would love to read abt a different girl character for once...:)

Summary: You have never believed in love. The mere thought of being in a relationship with someone horrified you. That is, until you met Loki, of course.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, kind of implied smut, major thirsting for Loki

You’ve never been the relationship type. The whole idea of settling down with one person for the rest of your life scared the shit out of you. Most people wanted the domestic life that led to a white picket fence with kids and a golden retriever prancing around the yard. That was the kind of life made for people who planned the color scheme and table settings for their fairytale wedding in a binder all tied up with a silver ribbon. You couldn’t be caught dead wanting that kind of bullshit. One could say you feared commitment or had emotional intimacy issues, but, in reality, those just weren’t your kind of dreams. That was, of course, until you met the one.

Loki.

His long, black hair and cold fingertips fill your stomach with butterflies. You can practically see the reflection of a wedding arch in his piercing green eyes while you listen to him speak. He almost allows you to believe that you want to settle down and be with him forever. That’s not what you want. That has never been what you want. So why did Loki make you want all of that?

You try to convince yourself it’s all purely physical. Loki will casually be standing in the kitchen of the Avengers compound, gracefully leaning against the island, and you’ll visualize him thrusting into you with your bare ass on the granite countertop. During meetings, while a mission is being discussed, you’ll stare at his thighs and want to straddle him, wondering what it feels like to get him so worked up that he would have no choice but to ravish you right then and there in front of the other Avengers. It might be twisted, sure, but sex crosses your mind more often than the idea of a cute love story. Especially if the sex is with Loki.

Yet, sometimes, your mind wanders elsewhere. You imagine Loki curled up in bed with a good book, turning the pages and inviting you to sit beside him as he reads aloud his favorite parts. Sometimes he’ll be sipping coffee in the morning, delicately making small talk with Tony or Steve, and you wonder what his cool cheek would feel like against your lips for a quick, morning kiss. When his hands run through his hair you desperately want to know what his fingers would feel like interlocked with yours on a nightly stroll around the city. Despite your supposed emotional intimacy issues, you can’t help but feel something so fucking emotional for Loki.

Enraged with yourself, you turn to Thor, your closest friend out of the Avengers, for help.

“Y/N, I have no clue why you don’t just tell Loki how you feel,” Thor states, gesturing to something that isn’t there. “He would be delighted to hear it.”

You groan. “Yeah, maybe. But, you know me, I don’t work that way.”

“I don’t understand, Y/N. Everyone works that way. We were born to love one another!”

“Thor, let me put it this way,” you begin to explain. “I’m the kind of girl who lets some guy take her home to have decent sex and then I leave before sunrise. That might be referred to as the walk of shame by most women, but those are some of my proudest moments.”

Thor thinks for a moment before speaking. “Well, you can always just have sex with Loki instead of telling him how you feel.”

“I wish,” you exhale. “That man could have me any way he wants.”

“Perfect!” Thor beams. “Tell him that!”

You chuckle, patting Thor on the back. “Thanks, honey, but I don’t think I could handle the casual sex thing with Loki.”

“I thought you love casual sex...”

“I do! You know I do! It’s just...” You let out a deep sigh. “No matter how much I try to deny everything there’s always going to be something more with him, you know?”

“Yes, I think I understand.”

You nod solemnly. “Thanks, Thor.”

“Anytime, Y/N.”

Suddenly, without warning, a figure materializes in the room. It startles you at first, but Thor is immune to this sort of thing. The tall frame in the green outfit becomes recognizable once you have a second to adjust to the sudden interruption.

“If I may interject...” Loki says, pointing a finger. You study his finger and ponder the ways he could tease with it. “The Captain told me to retrieve you both for a brief meeting this afternoon.”

“What’s it about?”

His eyes study you for a moment, almost as if he is glancing over your figure. You’re sprawled across Thor’s bed, lying on your stomach, hugging the pillow that rests beneath you. Your sweatpants grip your curves nicely and the tight tank top you paired with them leave little to the imagination. He watches you adjust under his gaze, sitting up slightly with a small, confident smile. Loki has always liked your confidence, never becoming too shy or awkward around him. Bringing his thoughts back to the discussion, he answers your question. “I believe it is regarding an upcoming mission, one that I am not allowed to know many details about.”

“Huh, I wonder why that is,” you tease with a sly grin.

Thor laughs loudly. “You’re lucky we even let you stay in the compound.”

“Hilarious,” Loki says with a straight face. However, he struggles to withhold his smile when he sees you laughing. “Sometimes I consider going back to wanting to kill everyone when you make comments like these.”

Thor furrows his eyebrows in frustration. “Don’t say that brother, Steve could hear you and take your words literally.”

Loki glances outside the ajar doorway. “No, I mean it,” he insists, loudly. “I am certainly going to force my way back into being the King of Asgard then eventually rule over all of New York.”

“Shut up, brother!” Thor scolds, getting up from his bed and slamming the door.

Loki laughs at his brother’s anger, looking at you as you roll your eyes at him with a playful grin. “Was that really necessary, Thor? He’s obviously fucking with you just to get you worked up.”

“Sarcasm, I believe is what I was using,” Loki adds. Thor says nothing and sits back down on the bed. “Lighten up, brother, we all know you’re the true King of Asgard.”

“I don’t know,” you contemplate out loud. “I think I could see you being in a more...dominant role.”

Holding your gaze confidently, Loki smirks. “My dear, I don’t have to rule over a kingdom to do that.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, seductively licking your lips. “I mean, if you did just so happen to be a king, I would have to get on my knees for you.”

“You say that like you don’t want to get on your knees for me anyway, love.”

Thor coughs to gain the attention of the two of you. “I would prefer to not be here if this conversation gets any weirder.”

You chuckle, unembarrassed. Thor knows how you are and how attracted to Loki you have become. “Sorry, babe, my mistake. You can leave if you’d like.”

Loki motions to the door. “Perhaps it is better that you leave Y/N and me alone. I would like to have...a word with her.”

“This is my room!” Thor defends. “You’re the ones that should be leaving me alone. I don’t want the two of you to...have your word...in my bed.”

Sighing, you tilt your head at the god with an exaggerated look. Loki nods understandingly. “My room, then?” you ask.

The door to your bedroom is barely shut before Loki has you pushed up against it, peppering kisses along your jawline. You let out an excited gasp, one that he covers with his hungry lips. The pace of your heartbeat quickens as he kisses you, and you know that you can’t do this with Loki just once. You want his lips on yours until the end of time. Almost hating yourself for it, you push a hand against his chest. He stops immediately.

“What’s wrong, my love?” His worried eyes dart across your face, looking for an answer to his question. He brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear delicately and your heart nearly melts.

“Loki...”

“Yes, darling?”

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. “As badly as I want this...and you know I want this so fucking badly...”

He chuckles. “I do...”

“I can’t go through with this if...if...fuck.” Your words stop and you find yourself choking on what you want to say. This has never happened to you before. You’re usually so calm, collected, and sexy. There has never been a man that made you want a relationship and you should be completely satisfied having a good fuck with Loki, but you want more. “I can’t go through with this if it’s going to be a one time thing.”

“My dear,” Loki whispers, kissing your lips softly. “We can do this as many times as you like.”

Moaning quietly, you give in to the kiss. It becomes hungrier, more passionate, Loki’s hands traveling down your ass and gripping your thighs. He picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bed. As he sits, lips still on yours, you maneuver yourself to straddle him. It feels even more amazing than you ever imagined. You want to stay like this forever, and you curse yourself for desiring such things. Loki changed you, making you feel things that you have never felt before. The words can’t stay in any longer.

You pull away from the kiss. Loki smiles and locks his eyes with yours. Where you are, where you want to be for the rest of your life, it feels safe. You have never felt more secure than in Loki’s arms. It washes over you instantly, but you know the feeling has been there all along. You’ve never felt it before, and you sure as hell have never said it. But, here with Loki, you know that now is a perfect time. You have to let it out. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“I’m so glad you said something,” Loki admits. “Because I have been in love with you since the moment I first laid eyes on you...and I’ve been falling more deeply in love with you every day since.”

“Really?” You smile brightly, asking for reassurance. Loki nods. “I never thought those words would mean so much to me.”

“Well, to be honest, I didn’t quite think you were the loving kind.”

You laugh quietly. “Says you...”

“I became the loving kind when I met you, Y/N.” You blush for what is most likely the first time ever. Loki brings a hand to your cheek, the cold of his fingertips competing with the warmth on your face. He kisses you sweetly and you nearly melt into him. “And what about you, my love?”

“Only for you, Loki, only for you.”

#write #writing #fiction #fanfiction #fluff #angst #smut #mcu #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #loki #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki x reader smut

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dippedanddripped · 5 years

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“I’M SO OFF MY TITS ON COFFEE,” Stella McCartney admits, knocking back yet another cup in the foyer of a boutique hotel a stone’s throw from her home in London’s Notting Hill. “I had four school drop-offs this morning,” she explains. “I start at 6:30 a.m., and by the time I get to work [by bicycle], I feel like I’m literally done for the day. I’m a big hot sweaty mess, too,” she adds, having decided that a thick organic-cotton flying suit (no pesticides used in its production) was the way to dress for a Monday morning that started grimly overcast but soon turned sultry. “It’s just so difficult being in fashion, isn’t it?” McCartney sighs. “We have to pretend to be so perfect. I’m the one that comes in with a punk-rock kind of ‘fuck this perfection,’ ” says the woman who famously turned up, with Liv Tyler, to the Costume Institute’s 1999 “Rock Style” exhibition, both wearing jeans and custom T-shirts spelling out ROCK ROYALTY. “It’s not maintainable, it’s not wise, and it’s very old-fashioned. So there you go.”

McCartney does the school run five days a week with daughters Bailey, 13, and Reiley, 9, and sons Miller, 14, and Beckett, 11. “When you’ve got a job and you’ve got kids,” she says, “it’s when you get to see them, and you have to wake up super early and engage in that moment. Then I try and squeeze in some exercise, and then I go to work. And I try and get back for the bookending of being a mum.”

On weekends, McCartney spends more time with the family when they decamp to an estate in the wilds of unfashionable north Gloucestershire, the result of a house hunt born, as McCartney has explained, of “a desperate mission to find land so that I could ride my horse.”

McCartney married the dashing and protective Alasdhair Willis—the former publisher of Wallpaper and a creative guru himself—in the fall of 2003, and their aligned aesthetic passions run the gamut from the innovative indoor-outdoor architecture of the midcentury Sri Lankan architect Sir Geoffrey Bawa to old English roses. Over the past 15 years, the couple have transformed their handsome but once desolate Georgian manor house, sitting in bleak open farmland, into “a redbrick box within a garden within a garden within a garden,” as McCartney describes it, a breathtaking landscape of grand walled enclosures and allées of trees reflecting both her belief that “being out in a beautiful garden is nicer than sitting in a beautiful room” and her husband’s passion for such stately English flowering landscapes as Hidcote and Sissinghurst. “We planted a million trees,” McCartney told Vogue in 2010, “made another Eden.”

“You know what I was doing this weekend?” asks McCartney. “I was riding my horse barefoot and bareback, with my daughter [Reiley]. It was about as good as it gets.”

On a visit there in 2010 I was intrigued to discover—among the bridle paths, wild meadows, orchards, and Downton-scaled rose gardens and herbaceous borders—a series of reed-filled ponds that turned out to be the McCartney-Willises’ off-the-grid sewage system. “See?” says McCartney with her impish laugh. “Being an environmentalist can be sexy!”

McCartney has been environmentally conscious since childhood. “I was privileged,” she has admitted. “I grew up on an organic farm; I saw the seasons. My parents were vegetarians—they were change agents.” (That childhood idyll is evoked in her late mother, Linda McCartney’s, book The Polaroid Diaries, which also captures the world of McCartney’s American relatives, including her Eastman grandfather, who lunched at the exclusive Maidstone Club and hung de Koonings and Rothkos in his Billy Baldwin–decorated Fifth Avenue drawing room, where the infant McCartney amused herself with Joseph Cornell’s magical shadow boxes, alluringly placed on a child’s-height shelf.)

The great outdoors is also reflected in McCartney’s state-of-the-sustainable-arts London flagship store—which she designed herself, with a soundtrack that includes a three-hour loop of her father, Paul’s, demo tapes along with a Bob Roth meditation in the changing rooms. “The audio is important for me,” she says as she proudly walks me round it, “because it’s obviously such a big part of my upbringing.” There are papier-mâché walls made from “all of the shredded paper from the office,” along with a silver birch grove and a moss-covered rockery of giant granite rocks brought from the 1,100-acre McCartney family farm on Scotland’s Mull of Kintyre. “My personality is this sort of contrast between the hard and the soft, the masculine and feminine,” says McCartney. “I wanted to have life in the store—to bring nature into the experience of shopping,” she explains as she takes me up in the Stellevator to the floor where she fitted the Duchess of Sussex for the glamorous halter-neck dress she wore for the wedding reception following her marriage to Prince Harry. There are also pieces from McCartney’s “All Together Now” Beatles collaboration, inspired by a friends-and-family screening of Yellow Submarine that her father staged on the film’s 50th anniversary. “It just blew my brains because I hadn’t seen it since I was a kid,” she recalls. “It’s astonishing—just mental and so trippy and so childlike and so innocent and so heavy and so meaningful.”

Since McCartney’s 1995 Central Saint Martins graduation show, her brand has been defined by the urgent desire to do away with animal cruelty in the fashion industry. And while, 20 years ago, there were fake furs on the market, the only glues available were animal-based. “I imagine Vikings sitting around a pot, boiling down the last bones of the elk that they skinned for the fur,” says McCartney. “And I think, Wow—we’re still there.” Today McCartney uses renewable energy where it’s available for both her stores and offices; the eyewear she shows me in her store is bi-acetate, and her sneakers are made with biodegradable Loop technology; she uses regenerated nylon, polyester, and cashmere but also works with producers making innovative fashion fibers—building fake fur from sustainable corn fiber, for instance, producing vegan microsilk, and growing mycelium-based “leather.”

“I was always a bit of a freak in the house of fashion,” McCartney says. “My regime, my culture, has been different from day one.” In Paris, where she was appointed creative director of Chloé in 1997, she struggled with the perception that at 26 she was too young and unqualified for the job (“The Beatles wrote Sgt. Pepper when they were 26,” she told Vogue tartly), and her working practice was “totally at odds with the rest of the industry,” as she recalls. Even now, she says, “every single day in our office is this sort of daily challenge—a way of trying to perfect and persist and find realistic solutions within the luxury-fashion sector—and even in a more broadstream way with the collaborations with Adidas [initiated in 2004]. Each day,” she says, “there are questions that I ask that we try to find an answer for. And if we can’t, we’ll try again tomorrow.”

Despite what she refers to as “a lot of resistance,” McCartney turned the Chloé gig (which lasted through the launch of her self-titled brand in 2001) into a triumph, tripling sales. Today, as we march inexorably to global Armageddon, her commitment to cruelty-free fashion and sustainability is fast becoming the industry norm. In recent years, for instance, luxury brands including Gucci, Prada, Michael Kors, Armani, and Chanel have declared themselves fur-free. “I’m hugely relieved,” says McCartney, “but I’m actually astounded that it’s taken so long.”

McCartney now gives scholarships at Central Saint Martins, her alma mater, for students who “adhere to our ethical charter,” and helps young designers navigate the complicated terrain of sustainability. “We’re in the farming industry in fashion,” she says. “We look at the biodiversity and the soil. It’s crazy. It’s basically exhausting. It’s much easier not to do it. So I kind of understand why the world hasn’t quite followed.”

BUT McCartney has far more ambitious goals for expanding her global industry reach. Last year, she bought back full ownership of her label from Kering, 17 years after the group’s then–creative director Tom Ford had urged the company to invest in McCartney’s fledgling brand. Following her move, “people began to show an interest quite quickly,” as McCartney recalls. “I was fortunate enough that Mr. Arnault was one of the people.” She’s speaking, of course, of Bernard Arnault, the all-powerful chairman and chief executive of LVMH, which acquired a minority share in Stella McCartney in July. “I think it’s incredibly exciting. It sends a big, big message to the industry if Mr. Arnault is asking me to be his personal adviser on sustainability at LVMH. I think that was one of the attractions for me—it is a big, timely statement, and hopefully game-changing for all of us.”

McCartney points out that the fashion brands with the biggest environmental impact in terms of scale are “the high-end luxury houses, and then the fast-fashion sector. They have massive impact in a negative way, and they can have a massive impact in a positive way.” These fast-fashion retailers, as she observes, turned from fur far earlier than luxury brands. “They’re more in touch with the youth,” she says, “and what the next generation of consumers actually wants. It’s a given for my children,” she notes, “that you have to show some kind of mindfulness or awareness.” (In recognition of the next generation’s activists, McCartney has launched the Stella McCartney Today for Tomorrow Award—video nominations via Instagram—“to celebrate,” as she says, “a new generation of change agents and eco-warriors under 25 who are kicking ass for Mother Earth.”)

She may have her work cut out for her. A week after our coffee klatch and four days before presenting her spring-summer 2020 show in Paris (“our most sustainable collection ever”), Arnault, addressing an LVMH sustainability event in Paris, called out 16-year-old activist Greta Thunberg for “indulging in an absolute catastrophism about the evolution of the world” in her electrifying appearance at the United Nations summit on climate change. “I find it demoralizing,” he added. It was perhaps no accident that McCartney raced to put together a sustainability panel (no questions, no photographs) of her own on the eve of her show at the Opéra Garnier—a panel that included Extinction Rebellion activist Clare Farrell, the legendary environmentalist and activist Yann Arthus-Bertrand, and author Dana Thomas (Fashionopolis: The Price of Fast Fashion and the Future of Clothes), who noted that “we wear our clothes seven times on average before throwing them away . . . we’re perpetuating this bulimia of buying, using, and throwing away.”

“What we’ve seen over the last few weeks and months,” McCartney said, pointedly, “is children and young people taking action.” The designer also addressed the issue of young activists’ rejecting the idea of consumerism. “If the youth of today stop buying into it,” McCartney added, “then obviously, the people at the top have got to deliver on that.”

Rayon, or viscose, an indispensable fashion fiber, for instance, is created from wood pulp. “This year alone,” McCartney says, “up to 150 million trees have been cut down just for viscose.” McCartney now sources hers from sustainable forests in Sweden. “I’m trying to create something that’s still sexy and desirable and luxurious that isn’t landfill,” she tells me. “Every single second, fast fashion is landfill.”

Does McCartney feel that she’s had an impact on the practices of other brands? “That’s not for me to say,” she demurs. “That would be so unchic of us. But we are a kind of incubator. I have sympathy for how hard it is to shift the massive Titanic ship away from the iceberg,” she says. “We’re a little agile sailboat, and we built the ship. And I think that’s easier than changing something that’s been going in one direction for so long.”

While she was at Kering, the company developed an environmental profit-and-loss tool that assigned a monetary value to environmental impact—something that led to McCartney’s decision (to give just one example) to stop the use of virgin cashmere, a material with 100 times the environmental impact of wool. (It takes four goats to make enough cashmere for a single sweater, resulting in a need for grazing land that has destroyed the steppes of Mongolia and led to desertification and sandstorms in northern China.) Her label now uses regenerated cashmere, made from factory scraps that are shredded and respun into new yarn, and focuses on alpaca (“a much more friendly material”) and traceable wool (four sweaters from one sheep).

McCartney also holds an annual forum for all of her suppliers to talk with them about what her company requires and to share information on recent advances. “A lot of people see change as something scary,” she says, “but the mills are interested in working with innovators.

“I think that in a sense we’re a project,” she adds. “We’re trying to prove that this is a viable way to do business in our industry—and that you don’t have to sacrifice any style or any edginess or coolness in order to work this way. At the end of the day,” she says, “we’re a fashion house trying to deliver on the promise of desirability. Without that, I can’t even have this conversation. So I have to try and find a healthy balance—and doing both jobs is a balance. It’s the same as being a mum. My other ‘family’ is work. And I have to find the balance between this conversation of fashion and the conversation of consciousness—and they have to complement each other.”

#stella mccartney #fashion blog #conscience fashion

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oceteva · 5 years

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The Forbidden Fruit | Riverdale ~ Daddy’s Office

[Hiram Lodge x oc]

Word count ; 4,138

Info | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Lauren glanced down at the rose gold Rolex on her left wrist as she carefully walked up the steep steps of her family's main business in town, Lanzetta Law Firm, in her heeled clear ankle boots and noticed that it was just a little after eleven in the morning. The brunette girl hadn't even realize that she had spent that long at the hospital and at home, where she had changed out of River Vixen uniform and into a burgundy plaid skirt along with a matching burgundy blouse and coat.

The Lanzetta teenager knew that her father would be in a meeting in an hour and she still needed to talk to him about if he had heard anything about what happened to Fred Andrews, so Lauren quickened her pace into the tall building that was located in the center of downtown Riverdale.

Lauren was extremely familiar with her family's law business since she spent a good portion of her childhood strolling through the hallways so she knew exactly where she needed to go without even have to look at any of the signs on the walls. It was like muscle memory as Lauren politely waved at the security guard at the double doors before she headed towards the receptionist desk.

"Hey, Georgia," the Lanzetta teenager greeted the familiar blonde woman, who had been the receptionist for the law firm for the past five years or so, with a friendly smile shining across her red painted lips. Lauren placed her hands against the granite counter before she inquired, "is daddy in his office?"

The blonde woman, Georgia, gave the teenager a bright smile in greeting before she murmured, "let me check." The receptionist turned her attention onto the computer beside her before she did a quick scan through the Lanzetta family's schedule. "It looks like your father is free at the moment," Georgia told the brunette girl before she added, "but he will be in meetings all through the day in about an hour."

Lauren silently nodded her head when she realized that she was right about her father's schedule before she told the blonde woman with her friendly smile shining across her red lips, "thank you for the help, Georgia." The Lanzetta teenager then said a quick goodbye to the blonde woman with the promise of getting lunch one of these days this week before she turned on her heels and strutted to the elevator.

Lauren patiently tapped her foot against the tiles in the silent elevator with only the soft classical music playing in the background as she rode up until it stopped at the twelve floor, where her father and mother's offices were located. The Lanzetta teenager waved her hand at the security team positioned around the waiting room before she continued on her way until she reached her father's office.

Lauren lightly raddled her knuckles against the dark cherry wooden door before she slowly pushed it open after she heard her father's muffled voice. The brunette teenager peaked her head into the large office but when she only saw her father, Lauren finally entered after she knew that he wasn't busy. "Hey, daddy," Lauren greeted her father once she strutted into the room before she walked towards her father's desk and placed a kiss to her father's temple like she always does.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Joseph Lanzetta greeted his daughter with a soft smile that is always reserved for his babygirl before he leaned back in his leather chair as he watched Lauren walk to the seat across from his desk. "Why aren't you in school, Lauren?" The older man inquired with a raised eyebrow and a hard voice as he hadn't been happy when he heard that she had skipped class this morning without a reason. Joseph only allowed his daughter to skip school if it had to deal with the family business.

Lauren released a loud huff as she leaned her head back against the comfortable and cool leather of the chair in her father's office as she thought back to why she wasn't in school right now. The Lanzetta teenager prided herself in being strong and able to keep emotions out of things but Lauren couldn't do that right now when the man, who was like a second father to her, was currently fighting for his life. "It's Fred, daddy," the brunette girl mumbled before she explained why she wasn't in school, "he was shot last night at Pop's."

The Lanzetta man slowly nodded his head once he got his answer and released the anger he had been feeling of the idea of his daughter skipping school. Joseph wasn't really strict with Lauren, but when it came to her education, he always put his foot down. Joseph always had the tendency to raise hell when he would find out that Lauren was skipping school - especially if she was with that biker boyfriend of hers. But now that Joseph knew that Lauren was just looking after the important people in her life, he relaxed before he commented, "ah, yes, I heard about that this morning."

Lauren immediately perked up at that information as it was what she wanted to hear. The Lanzetta teenager pushed herself to the edge of the leather chair and folded her arms over her burgundy skirt before she asked her father with a small twitch of her head, "if you heard, do you have any information about what exactly happened at the diner?"

Joseph couldn't help the small smirk that lifted up onto his face as he understood why his daughter had showed up in his office this morning. She is a Lanzetta, after all, the older man reminded himself as Lauren would, of course, have that interrogating lawyer spirit like her parents and that duty to protect her friends like he had instilled into her since she was a little girl. "There is a few talks on the streets to what happened or what could have happened," Joseph answered his daughter's interrogating question. Joseph lightly shook his head before he muttered, "but there is no clear cut answer, sweetheart, just different people saying it was a robbery, an enemy, or even just a random hit."

Lauren bit down on her bottom lip as she silently nodded her head. The brunette teenager was disappointed that there wasn't someone that knew what happened to the Andrews man. However, Lauren knew that didn't mean that she couldn't dig and find the answers that she wanted for the man who's like a father to her, so the Lanzetta teenager pushed away her disappointment before she asked her father, "do you have any of the guys looking into this right now? To see who could have done this to Fred?"

"No," Joseph stated as he fixed the sleeve of his navy blue Giorgio Armani suit before he continued once he connected his dark eyes back with his daughter's determined ones, "I don't but I can make the call if you really want this to be looked into."

Lauren immediately nodded her head as she uttered, "I do, daddy, thank you." The Lanzetta teenager pushed a portion of her brunette hair behind her ear with a loud sigh before she told her father why she wanted the family to look into the incident at Pop's, "you know much I care about Fred. He deserves more than what the police can do to get him justice."

Joseph gave his daughter an assuring smile before he promised to his heir, "I'll get in touch with a few of the guys to start scoping around for any information, then."

The Lanzetta teenager couldn't help but release a breath of relief at the fact that the Lanzetta mob would help find out who had shot Fred Andrews last night. Lauren was thankful as she wanted to help ease the pain that her best friend, Archie, was going through right now. It was just one less thing that the Andrews family would have to worry about, so Lauren would gladly do everything she can to find the monster that done this to Fred.

The thought of catching the Andrews man's shooter immediately brought Lauren back to the conversation that she had with her two best friends at the hospital. "Hey," Lauren called out to her father before she inquired, "have you spoken to any of the Serpents today?"

The Lanzetta man glanced up from the paperwork that he had been looking at for his meeting before he answered his daughter's question, "Tallboy called this morning but I haven't had the chance to swing by the Southside yet to see what he wanted. But other than that, I haven't." Joseph twitched his head to the side in curiousness for why his daughter was asking about the leather bound men and women before he wondered, "why? Do you think they could have done something to Fred?" The lawyer rolled his dark eyes at the thought of a certain Serpent before he muttered, "why not ask that punk boyfriend of yours?"

Not this again, the brunette teenager thought as she rolled her eyes right back at her father. This was a common conversation that she would have with her father over her choice of a boyfriend. Lauren never understood why her father didn't like her boyfriend since he has a close relationship with the Southside Serpents. However, Lauren didn't have time to question this right now - especially when her father never would give her a straight answer - so she only muttered, "leave Daniel alone."

Lauren wanted to focus solely on the whole Fred Andrews ordeal, so she ignored her father's petty words before she explained why she was asking about the Serpents, "it's just Archie mentioned that Fred and Hermione fired the Serpents who were working for them." The Lanzetta teenager twitched her head to the side before she continued her interrogation, "do you know what happened there? Do you think some of the Serpents were angry enough about getting fired to do something like this?"

Joseph sat there in silence for a minute or two as he thought about the Southside Serpents before he shook his head. "Honestly," the Lanzetta man began with a quiet sigh before he stated, "I don't think they did this. This isn't their style." Joseph had known the Serpents ever since he moved his family to Riverdale when Lauren was only two years old, so he knew the Serpents through and through. The Lanzetta lawyer knew the Serpents are capable of doing something like this, but Joseph just had this feeling in his gut that this wasn't a Serpent hit.

The Lanzetta teenager watched her father's facial expressions for a moment before she nodded her head as she accepted his answer and believed him. Lauren couldn't help but to be relieved that the Serpents didn't have anything to do with what happened to Fred. She had a special relationship with the a few of the Serpents - Fangs, Toni, Sweet Pea, and Daniel - so she was glad that they didn't do anything to the man who was like her second father.

"Thank you for talking with me, daddy. I know you're busy," Lauren praised her father as she slowly stood up from the leather chair and fixed her burgundy skirt. The Lanzetta teenager grabbed her black leather purse from the carpet ground before she stated, "I'll let Arch know that we'll be looking into things." Lauren slipped her purse up on her shoulder before she uttered, mostly to herself, with a small shrug of her shoulders, "I'll probably make a few calls to our contacts to get the ball rolling as quickly as possible."

Lauren gave her father a farewell smile before she turned around to head out of the Lanzetta office. However, though, before the brunette teenager could even take a full step across the room, the Lanzetta man called out, "wait, sweetheart." Joseph waited until his daughter was facing him before he continued, "while I have you here, I wanted to run something by you."

The Lanzetta teenager couldn't help but to be curious to what her father wanted to talk to her about. "Oh?" Lauren inquired before she headed right back to the leather chair across from her father and took a seat with curiousness shining all throughout her blue irises. "What is it?" The River Vixen asked her father as she got comfortable in the cool leather chair.

"I've recently been in talks with someone these past few days about a new business opportunity for the family," Joseph began as he folded his arms across his cherry wooden desk. The Lanzetta man twitched his head slightly to the side before he asked his daughter her opinion, "what would you think about conjoining The Velvet Room with a partner?"

Lauren silently nodded her head, to herself, with her brows slightly furrowed as she took in her father's words. The Lanzetta teenager knew that any new business for their trio of The Velvet Room - which was three separate locations for their nightclub, restaurant, and stripclub - was very good to continue their flow of money, so she was definitely interested in learning more about the person that her father had mentioned. "What exactly does this potential partner bring to the table?" Lauren asked her father as she knew that they needed to be smart about this or it could ruin the three locations.

Joseph brightly grinned as he watched his only daughter ask the important questions like a true business woman in the Lanzetta crime family. It made the lawyer proud that Lauren was so serious about the family business after only a year of being involved. "I've only talked with him over the phone a few times but he seems very serious about this deal," Joseph told his heir before he explained about the potential partnership, "he wants to join together with The Velvet Room locations with his alcohol distributor business in New York."

Lauren was now extremely confused. "We already have a distributor with the Constanza family supplying all of our alcohol needs for the clubs and the restaurant," the Lanzetta teenager stated the obvious before she inquired as she tried to understand why her father was looking into this potential partnership, "so, why would we want to join this deal when we are already getting a thirty-seven percent discount off of our orders?"

The Lanzetta man leaned back in his leather chair with a smirk playing on his lips as he loved when his daughter would think like this. It was one of the reasons why Lauren was quickly moving up the ladder after only just a year involved with the family business. "Well, sweetheart," Joseph began with a silent sigh before he explained why this deal was so beneficial for them, "our potential partner sells this up and coming drug called 'Devil's Tongue,' so the drug would come with the alcohol partnership for a small percentage of The Velvet Room and we can start selling without being under suspicion since there would be nothing but the alcohol distributor coming in and out of the three locations."

Lauren bit down on her cherry red lip as she took in the information about this potential partnership that would make them lots of money before a thought suddenly popped into the brunette girl's head. "And what about Jingle Jangle?" The Lanzetta teenager inquired before she commented, "we still have that partnership with the Ghoulies."

Joseph rolled his dark eyes at the thought of the other main gang on the Southside of Riverdale before he muttered in annoyance, "fuck those greedy bastards." The Lanzetta man hated dealing with those studded leather wearing kids - even though they did bring in good money from all of the Jiggle Jangle. Joseph wanted to take this deal partly because he wanted to end this partnership with the Ghoulies so he figured it was the perfect opportunity. "Anyways," Joseph continued as he told his daughter, "we need to stay up in the game, sweetheart. If we want our clients to keep coming back, then we need to offer something new and better to keep them happy."

That makes sense, Lauren thought to herself as she knew from her experiences of running The Velvet Room that the dancers at the stripclub are always mentioning that their clients are always asking for new product. However, though, the one thing that bothered Lauren was the fact that she had never heard of this drug and she didn't know if it would sell well or if it was just a scam to get a cut in their clubs. "What exactly is this 'Devil's Tongue' and how would we distribute it?"

The boss of the Lanzetta crime family shot his daughter a wide grin as he was, once again, proud of Lauren's thought process of the business before he explained what the drug were, "it's just like California Sunrise. You put it in your mouth and it dissolves." Joseph lightly shook his head before he continued, "but unlike all other forms of LSD, Devil's Tongue is made with the same ingredients as ecstasy for a more intense high, so it'll be perfect for the club scene."

Joseph made sure his daughter was following along before he continued to answer her questions, "and for how we would distribute it, I was thinking of bringing in some muscle with a couple of your cousins from San Fran to sell the drugs on the Southside and look into some of the bartenders and dancers at the clubs to sell directly to their customers like we have been doing with the Jiggle Jangle."

The office at the Lanzetta Law Firm grew silent for a few minutes as Lauren went through all of the information about this potential business opportunity. Lauren did like this idea of bringing in this new drug - especially when it would come through their alcohol distributor - instead of taking the chance of getting caught by getting Jingle Jangle from the Southside. They wouldn't even need to leave The Velvet Room to get their supply of Devil's Tongue.

However, even though this deal sounded perfect, the Lanzetta teenager didn't completely trust it. "I think before we decide anything, we should have a meeting with this guy," Lauren told her father as she crossed her arms over her burgundy coat, "we need to make sure he's the real deal and we can trust what he says." Lauren knew from everything that her father had taught in the last year that she could never be too trusting in people, so she knew that they couldn't come to a conclusion until they met the guy to get a feel of this potential deal.

"Smart girl," the Lanzetta man murmured with a grin stretched across his lips before he commented with a nod of his head, "I was thinking the same thing." Joseph leaned back in his leather chair before he told his daughter from what he had been told yesterday about their potential partner, "he's supposed to be arriving back into town tonight. I wanted to talk with you first to see what you think, but I'll give him a call soon to set it up."

Lauren nodded her head in understanding before she began to tell her father, "let me know -" However, though, before the brunette girl could tell her father to let her know when the meeting would take place, she was suddenly interrupted when her cell phone began to ring in the pocket of her burgundy coat. Lauren shot her father a small apologetically smile as she murmurs, "sorry, daddy," before she pulled out her cell phone and noticed that it was Betty who was calling her.

The Lanzetta teenager immediately pressed the green accept button on her cell phone as she was worried that her blonde best friend was calling with news about the injured Fred Andrews. Lauren brought the device up to ear while she anxiously chewed on her red bottom lip before she finally greeted the blonde, "hey, B, is everything alright?"

"Hey, Lala," the Cooper girl greeted her best friend back before she quickly assured Lauren, "everything is still alright." Betty glanced over to her boyfriend on his motorcycle before she informed the brunette girl, "I was calling because Jug and I are about to head to Pop's to look for Mr. Andrews' wallet and I figured you would want to join as well to see if we can find anything useful."

Lauren released a small breath of relief at the fact that everything was still okay with Fred. She was still so worried about the Andrews man since he was still stuck in surgery, so Lauren was glad that everything was still the same - even though that wasn't exactly a good thing. Lauren quickly shook her head as she forced herself to not think like that before she focused back onto the awaiting Cooper girl as she teasingly asked by hiding her worrying, "is the detective team getting back together?"

Betty let out an amused chuckle for the first time since she had found out about the injured Andrews man - which felt good through this stressful day. "Yes, we are," the Cooper girl affirmed what Lauren had jokingly asked before she inquired, even though she probably already knew the answer from the always determined Lanzetta teenager, "are you coming?"

"Of course, Ms. Cooper," Lauren instantly responded in a playful and posh voice before she immediately grew serious as she reminded herself what was at stake right now. "We need to find out what happened last night," the Lanzetta teenager stated the only thing that she could focus on at the moment before Lauren informed her best friend, "I'll meet you guys at the diner in twenty."

Lauren waited until the Cooper girl said that she and Jughead would see her soon before the Lanzetta teenager ended the phone call and slipped her cell phone back into her burgundy coat. The River Vixen then focused back onto her father, who was patiently watching her, before she uttered with a small chuckle, "duty calls."

Lauren stood up from the leather chair and fixed her leather purse on her shoulder before she informed her father, "we might have a lead on what happened to Fred at the diner." The Lanzetta teenager moved around her father's office before she requested, "but if you hear anything, let me know."

Joseph nodded his head as he also stood up from his chair and met his daughter towards the side of his large desk. "I will," the Lanzetta man promised before he connected his dark eyes with Lauren's blue ones and ordered in a serious voice, "be careful, sweetheart." Joseph didn't like not knowing what was going on in their small town, so the mobster felt a little on edge about this hooded man when his only daughter and wife were always running around Riverdale.

"I always am, daddy," Lauren uttered with a small smirk pulled on her painted red lips before she leaned up on her heeled boots and placed a gentle kiss to her father's cheek. "Have a fun day with your meetings," the Lanzetta teenager teased her father with a chuckle before she exited out of his office with the sound of her father's groaning trailing behind her.

Lauren tried to calm her racing heart as she made her way through her parents' floor and entered the elevator. The Lanzetta teenager just wanted to find out what happened to Fred Andrews and it was driving her crazy that the police were no help. Lauren had always made sure that her loved one were taken care of - like when she made sure Betty had the best pillows and candies when she broke her arm in second grade or when Cheryl lost her favorite pair of Gucci heels and she had bought her a new pair - so it was frustrating that this whole ordeal was such a mystery to everyone.

However, Lauren was not just about to give up - even though the police were doing a shitty job at solving the crime. The Lanzetta teenager knew that she just needed to keep her hopes high that she and her detective team of Jughead and Betty could find something that connected the crime at the diner.

The Lanzetta teenager felt like she needed to do this for Archie and Fred, so Lauren pushed away all of the thoughts about this potential partner for the family business and focused along with centered her mind with only the thought of finding justice for her father-like figure. Lauren swore to herself as she exited out of Lanzetta Law Firm that she would not stop until she got the answers that they needed to find out who shot Fred Andrews.

#mine #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fanfic #riverdale fic #Hiram Lodge #hiram lodge x oc #hiram lodge fanfic #hiram lodge fanfiction #riverdale series

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mnranger5 · 5 years

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“Falling” in the NorthEast, Boston, MA, Portland, ME, Boothbay, ME, Whitefield, NH, 9/27/19 – 10/1/19

More than once on this trip, we heard people say they “SUMMER” in the Boothbay, Kennebunkport and in the rolling mountains of New Hampshire and Vermont. One older gentleman, with a sweater draped over his back, sleeves tied around his chest, explained it on our evening ocean sail, as “Summering, as a verb.” Well, we here in the Midwest have our own term - it’s called “VACATIONING.” And since it is no longer summer, this trip is VACATIONING IN THE FALL. But, in the spirit of rebranding words to sound like an East Coast Hoity Toity, this blog is all about Dyan and I FALLING across the northeastern United States.

One of our bucket list trips was an east coast roadtrip which included indulging in an obscene amount of lobster and taking in the brilliant fall foliage in the White Mountain National Forrest. So, for Dyan’s birthday, I booked this trip for her. This turned out to be a wonderful getaway as we wandered around the NE with no real agenda. Having no plans really allowed us to get creative with the journey and we ended up stumbling on some very interesting locations and activities. And the people watching on this trip was priceless. Surely worth more laughs than the best SNL skit.

9/27/19

Like all our trips, we were up early. Our 6:50 flight took off just after sunrise and we surfed the clouds at 35,000 feet all the way to Boston. A quick little 2-hour flight of smooth sailing is my kind of travel!

We Uber’ed over to the Courtyard Marriott hotel in downtown Boston. This hotel is directly across the street from the TD Boston Garden, the venue for the concert we’d be attending later that night. With the room not being ready yet, Dyan and I ventured out into downtown, in search of a lunch-time lobster roll. We settled on Luke’s Lobster. We ate at Luke’s on our first visit to Boston, and we both recalled it being delicious. We ordered the lobster rolls, drizzled in warm butter and a side of clam chowder. The lobster rolls were fabulous, albeit pricey. At $25 for a hot dog sized sandwich, it’ll leave you wanting two more.

After lunch, we walked around a bit more seeing some of the Freedom Trail sites. We walked the entire Freedom Trail on our first visit in August of 2016, so this time we hit one main exhibit that had been closed for restoration. Old Ironsides, also known as, the U.S.S. Constitution. We toured the ship for nearly an hour. An absolute highlight for me that I had been hoping I’d get to see since our trip in 2016.

For dinner, we chose Bell in the Hand Tavern, American’s oldest tavern. This storied establishment has been around since 1795. Obviously, it’s been renovated, but the bones and stonework of the building are original. Of course, their specialty is cold drinks and seafood. Yes please. We got the best seat in the house, the table at the point of the restaurant.

Obviously, we ordered oysters and lobster rolls and beer. While we ate absolutely everything on our plates, they were probably our least favorite lobster rolls of the trip, and most expensive at $28/roll. The lobster was a bit dry, the buns weren’t griddled and the shredded lettuce under the lobster was wilted. Complaining about having to eat lobster…first world problems.

After dinner, we walked a couple of blocks over to an establishment where everybody knows your name. And they’re always glad you came!

Yep, the original Cheers! bar. It was here Dyan fell for unfiltered, “chunky” cider beer called DownEast Cider.

From there, it was over to the Boston Garden, home of the Boston Celtics and Bruins. A storied facility, like its well-known brother down the street called Fenway Park. But tonight, was not about Larry Bird’s basketball team or Bobby Orr’s hockey team. Tonight, was a different kind of birthday gift for Dyan. Tickets to The Chainsmokers & 5 Seconds of Summer (5SOS) concert! We had great seats too, sitting low on the side just off stage left. Opening act, Lennon Stella, was underwhelming, as she played to about 5,000 fans that were in the process of filtering into the area. Her set felt very small on the massive stage and worse, all her songs sounded the same.

The second band of the night were the Ausie Punk Rockers, 5SOS. These guys were full of energy from the moment they hit the stage. Easily could be headliners of their own show, they rolled out all their hits including their hard rock version of Easier, one of my favorite songs. They did a sweet cover of Blink 182’s What’s My Name and closed their set down with an amazing rendition of Youngbloods. 5SOS was amazing, and we agreed we’d both go see them again.

The headliner was the DJ duo, The Chainsmokers. This is one of our favorites. While we aren’t part of the stereotypical rave or EDM crowd, we do love a good Chainsmokers remix on then Sonos while we’re cooking dinner for the kiddos! Anyway, the show was more like a spectacle. There were more laser lights, smoke, pyrotechnics, flaming drumsticks, motorbikes, giant suspended metal globes (which the bikes rode in), and great music than any show I have ever been to. The show was probably the best show either of us have ever been to. They opened the set with Takeaway (with Lennon Stella) before hitting just about every hit they’ve ever made, like Paris, Something Just Like This, Don’t Let Me Down, Call You Mine, This Feeling, Who Do You Love (with 5SOS) before closing with Closer. From 5SOS to The Chainsmokers, Dyan and I never sat in our seats. Boston got to see all my best dance moves! It was an incredible concert.

9/28/19

By 8AM, we were checked out of the hotel, and Uber’ed back to the airport to pick up our rental car. We rented from Alamo. Just our luck… Alamo had the ONLY line in the entire rental car reservation area. We waited in line for about 30 minutes before reaching the counter. Obviously, I rented as cool of car as I could get my hands on. Afterall, this was going to be a roadtrip and we needed to drive in style! So I selected the Mustang convertible class several months earlier. When it was our turn to approach the counter, the attendant asked me the car class I was looking for. I told her we reserved the standard convertible. She shot me the most dead serious look and told me the last couple at the counter had just upgraded to the last convertible. My jaw dropped as I searched for words. Then she flashed her pearly whites at me and said, “Just Kidding!”

Within minutes, we were headed out to the garage. Sitting right up front were two gorgeous Mustang convertibles. One was bright red car under the “Standard Convertible” sign, and the other was silver under the “Premium Convertible” sign. The silver was the 5.0L Mustang GT. The lot attendant was a 16 year old gal who likely had no idea the difference in the cars. She lead us over to the red car. I asked if we could take the silver car. She shrugged her shoulders. We picked the silver GT and got out of the garage before anybody knew any better.

Our road trip had officially begun! First stop, Salem, MA. Salem is a cute little town that 100% plays to tourists coming to learn about the town’s history. Specifically, Witches and the Salem Witch Trials of 1692 – one of the most tragic events of early American History.

There were dozens of historical sites to see in a one-mile radius stretching from downtown Salem to the waterfront. We only had time to hit a couple of sites, so the first site we visited is the Witch House, widely considered ground zero in Salem’s eerie history. In 1692, the home was owned by Jonathon Corwin, a wealthy merchant and politician. He was also the magistrate and judge in Salem who presided over the Salem Witch Trials. In short, Corwin oversaw the imprisonment of 150 people (witches, thought to be practicing witchcraft) and the death of 19 (18 of which were hung, and one pressed to death. Our second stop of the day was at The Salem Witch Trial Memorial, just blocks from Corwin’s residence. Each of the 19 killed in 1692 have their own granite slab indicating their demise.

Our reaction to Salem was mixed. Interesting, yes. Creepy, yes. Sad, yes. It is too bad all those people had to die because a couple of kids were acting out (acting like kids when they don’t get iPad time) and their parents thought somebody was casting a spell on them. Time for people to die. Sheash! Obviously, the story is tragic and cruel, but the entire town plays to the story. Virtually every shop in the historic area has to do with spooky costumes, Halloween decor, dark presences and witches. It really is a bizarre place to visit with a creepy vibe. Doubtful we’d ever go back.

Next stop on the roadtrip was Kennebunkport. This little gem of a coastal town is quaint, yet insanely overcrowded with tourist milling around. The two hotspots, The Clam Shack and Arundel Wharf Seafood had very long lines, so we settled on Alisson’s Restaurant because it had immediate seating. Talk about a sleeper! This place gets none of the seafood hype but delivers up some fantastic lobster rolls! Dyan got the regular lobster roll, while I ordered the lobster roll trio “sliders.” Finally a lobster meal that was filling!

Back on the road! By 3PM, we reached Portland. Our hotel, the Westin Harborview, sits beautiful perched up on the hill overlooking the Fore River dumping into the Atlantic Ocean. While waiting for our room, we had a couple of drinks at Top of the East, the rooftop hotel bar.

Later that evening, we walked from the hotel to the waterfront as we evaluated all the seafood restaurants. Obviously, we were having lobster again, but there was a lot of restaurants to choose from. The Fisherman’s Wharf had at least a dozen piers, all of which appeared to be working docks. They all had shops, businesses, seafood markets and a few restaurants. So many signs stating “Best Lobster Roll”, “Freshest Lobster”, “Most Lobster”, “Affordable Lobster”. How do you choose? We were drowning in choices. We took a walk down Portland Pier seeing neon lights at the very end. Must be another lobster joint… As we got closer, the establishment’s sign came into view. It wasn’t just any lobster joint. Nope, this was Luke’s Lobster’s flagship location – a brand new facility that just opened in June of this year. Winner-winner-lobster-dinner! Dyan and I got seated waterfront on the patio. We had an amazing view of the sunset at low tide.

9/29/19

It was another gorgeous autumn morning. After a delicious breakfast at the Westin, we headed north. With the heater blasting, and Dyan covered in our jackets, we cruised with the top down through the Maine Points.

One of our stops was at Bath, ME. Prior to the trip, dad gave me a tip that this is the location of Bath Iron Works (BIW), the defense contractor that builds the United States elite warships. While we really couldn’t get close to the ship, we did have a couple vantage points of the USS Daniel Inouye (DDG-118), and Arleigh Burke-class destroyer. This destroyer is widely considered the world’s most advanced surface warship.

As we crossed the Kennebec River, we got a different view of BIW, and saw a different ship currently being fitted. It was the USS Lyndon B Johnson (DDG-1002). The Lyndon B will be the third and final Zumwalt-class destroyer. With out of controls costs, and 29 canceled orders, the total project costs were spread over the three ships at a staggering price of 7.5 billion dollars per ship. Yikes!

On our way to Boothbay, we made a wrong turn and ended up at Knickerbocker Park, a small island on the Black River.

What a hidden gem this little park is. We used this pit stop to walk a bit in the sun, and warm up!

We arrived in Boothbay around 11:00, and proceeded to shop around the small town for about an hour. Dyan picked up a new wooden lobster marker for the family room picture shelf and also booked us a three hour afternoon sail to the nearby lighthouses on the Atlantic Ocean coastline.

But first, lobster. We needed some in our bellies. We had it narrowed down to two options. McSeagulls or Mine Oyster. Both on the water, both with seafood on the menu. However, McSeagulls had this great cover band on their patio belting out some 80’s hits. This was my kinda place. Mine Oyster on the other hand seemed to be known for their oyster menu – not my thing. I remained silent, hoping Dyan would succumb to the great tunes bellowing from the bar. Dyan chose Mine Oyster. Of course, she did. But this is her birthday extravaganza afterall, so whatever makes mama happy makes me happy! We were promptly seated at the patio overlooking the Boothbay Harbor. Full disclosure, other than for breakfast, we had lobster for every single meal thus far. We kind of wanted to try some other fresh caught seafoods. First up, Dyan got a small order of Oysters Rockafeller (sambuca flambéed spinach, garlic, shallots, bacon, cream and Swiss cheese) – the same style of oysters her and dad fell in love with while we were in Florida Keys for Alissa’s wedding. I tried one, but it just reaffirmed that oysters are not my thing! Dyan on the other hand was in Heaven. We also got an order of fresh Maine squid, fried up into delicious calamari.

But oysters and calamri weren’t very filling. The waiter told us that if we ordered the woodfired lobster dinner, he would personally guarantee that we’d never have better lobster in our life. EVER. That’s a hell of a guarantee. Obviously, there was no saying “NO” to that claim. And so, we had lobster for lunch, again.

It was served, pre-split for us. The shells and edge of the lobster were a bit blacked from the wood fire. But the meat glistened with a garlic/lemon butter. It was obvious this place knew how to prepare lobster, and from bite #1, they made good on their guarantee. We had had some great lobster on this trip, but the smokiness of the woodfire put this lobster in an entirely different category. There literally was no comparison to this lobster. The meat literally fell out of the shell and into your stomach…not sure if I ever chewed. Dyan and I spent 30 minutes peeling every tiny shred of meat out of every tentacle, tail orifice and claw. This was one of the best meals I have ever had in my life. And the fingerling potatoes served with it would have stolen the show on any other entrée except this one. They were roasted perfectly in a butter glaze. Crispy skin and soft creamy middle. This restaurant This meal could easily be the ONLY reason necessary to visit Boothbay. Just wow. We sat on the patio for two hours drinking cold beers and watching lobster boats coming and going from the harbor.

Next up, was our sail boat ride on the Schooner Eastwind. A perfectly relaxing sail for Dyan, but a working sail for me. Within 5 minutes of boarding, we broke dock and were out into the harbor. The captain and 1st officer needed assistance raising the sails.

Obviously, I volunteered. Me and another guy hoisted the main sail to full mast. Immediately, the wind caught the sail and we were heading south out to the ocean. The trip took us past Burnt Island Lighthouse and Cuckolds Lighthouse.

While no whales were spotted, some on the boat claimed to see multiple porpoises. We did see a seal swimming through our wake which was pretty cool. It was a perfect day for sailing – bluebird skies, temps in the 60’s with some decent wind. At the midpoint of our sail, we passed Cape Island, better known as Witch Island. This island was owned by Margret Hamilton, better known as the Wicked Witch of the East from Wizard of Oz. Apparently, she was a lovely woman and was known in the area for the being such a kind and sweet natured person!

After our sail, we headed out to Spruce Point Inn, our resort for the night. Our cabin had a front row seat to a gorgeous Boothbay/Atlantic Ocean sunset.

We had a very comical end to the night that Dyan and I just could not stop laughing about. It was 8PM and we were famished. We took the shuttle back into Boothbay for dinner. There was a quaint Italian restaurant, The Ports of Italy, that seemed to be the local favorite. We didn’t have reservations, so it was a bit of a wait. Great people watching, however. Like, better than the state fair or airport. Lots of old money and tourists made for an entertaining dinner. Because this restaurant is quite small, the tables are virtually on top of each other. After being seated, a younger couple was sat directly next to us. They kept looking over at Dyan and I, clearly judging what we were eating. I had this GIGANTIC plate of spaghetti in front of me and Dyan an equally large portion of lobster ravioli. We chowed like nobody’s business. We even ordered a second basket of bread just so we could mop up the sauce left on our dishes. Meanwhile, the other couple was eating dainty salads with their glasses of vino. They obviously could not believe how much food we had consumed. They didn’t disguise their non-verbals very well. Then we ordered dessert…not one, but two! Cheesecake and lemon cake. Obviously, those plates didn’t last long. And the looks from our neighbors just kept on coming. I could have eaten another basket of bread, but I refrained.

After dinner, we walked around town. Most of the shops were closed. It was cold, as temps had dropped into the 40’s. Neither of us had brought our jackets. There was a shop that was open a couple blocks ahead of us with people streaming in and out of. It was an ice cream parlor, and our hope was that they’d have some hot coffee. We walked in, stood in the long line and glanced at the menu. No coffee. We turned around and guess who was right behind us in line. Yep, the couple from the Italian restaurant. They must’ve really fallen off their rockers when they saw us in line – probably thought we were ordering our second desserts. What a riot!

9/30/19

As beautiful of a resort as Spruce Point Inn is, we didn’t stick around long in the morning. We were headed for the hills of New Hampshire by 9AM. We stopped for a quick breakfast-on-the-road at Dunkin Donuts which brings me to a rant about the Northeast. I am a pop drinker. At several locations in the NE (including this Dunkin), we stopped to get pop – Dr. pepper for Dyan and Diet Pepsi for me. Everytime we cracked a 20oz. bottle, there was no “PSSSSST”. The pop was perfectly flat - no fizz, no bubbles, absolutely void of any carbonation. It was like this nearly everywhere.

By the end of the trip, the common denominator for the carbonation-less soda was bottles with this symbol on the cap. Bizarre and disappointing because we probably wasted at least $10 on bad pop before figuring out not to buy pop with that cap.

The drive into New Hampshire was stunning. We drove winding mountain roads as we climbed in elevation. The fall foliage went from early signs of fall to full blown peak colors in a matter of an hour. Brilliant reds and oranges cascaded down the mountains. These are the colors that people rave about on NE fall road trips!

With the top down, we cruised along New Hampshire backroads that aren’t even recognized by the GPS. Around noon, we arrived at our stately resort, Mountain View Grand Resort, perched high on a hill in the White Mountains.

The resort, built in 1865, is a massive, sprawling compound complete with a golf course, farm (with animals), mountain trails, pools, tennis courts and axe throwing. The place is magnificent.

We were too early to check in, so we had a great lunch in the restaurant before heading outdoors to rent mountain bikes. Yep, we were about to go mountain biking dressed in our Sunday-best. And for the record, we aren’t bikers. Renting bikes had as much paperwork as buying a new car. The Activities Manager, Mike, asked us our skill level, which prompted a response like “This is our first bike ride in 30 years.” He laughed. He was planning to send us on Trail 1. He assured us it would be easy. He built up how much fun we’d have. “It’s a nice scenic view of the White Mountains.” We were sold! His parting words were, “Stay right on the Old Farm Road (OFR) until you see a sign for Trail 1, then take a left.”

Great! We were off. OFR is a significantly long downhill dirt road out the backside of the resort. Within moments, Dyan and I were going WAY too fast on the loose gravel.

At this point in the story, I should mention that OFR has no clear signage. There are several forks in the road to other dirt roads. I recalled Mike saying “stay right”, so I called out to Dyan to take the right fork. It led us into the resort maintenance area…a dead end. We retraced our path uphill to the fork, walking the bikes up the steep road. This was the first moment I regretted jeans and a sweater.

We headed back down OFR approaching another fork. This time Dyan called out the right fork. The road meandered into the woods and abruptly dead ended after a quarter of a mile. Ugh, backtrack again. This was annoying.

As Dyan walked her bike uphill, I rode my bike hard in a standing position, to get more power. SNAP! My pedal flew out from under me as my foot slipped off causing me to nearly lose my balance. The chain had popped off.

Frustrating. I spent a few minutes getting the chain connected again, leaving my hands black with oil and nowhere to clean them off. After backtracking, we continued down OFR looking for Trail 1. We came across a an unmarked trail. Feeling like we had gone WAY TOO FAR on OFR, we decided to take it. It turned out to be Trail 3, and Intermediate blue rout full of up/downs and rocks to dodge. We obviously had gone the wrong way, but whow would we have known since the trails were not clearly marked.

As we huffed and puffed on Trail 3, we approached a fork in the road. To the right was Trail 5, but straight was unmarked. The unmarked trail turned out to be Trail 4, the most difficult trail on the mountain. It was So steep, there were points we had to stop and walk our bikes. My chain continued popping off, and Dyan’s bike wouldn’t shift into higher gears. She was stuck doing uphills in very low gear settings – which made the challenging ride virtually impossible!

Trail 4 was the most challenging because it was super steep. I swore under my breath a few times at the long meander downhill that OFR tool us on. This was the payback. An intense uphill with seemingly no end in sight. After 30 minutes on Trail 4, we arrived at a junction with a sign that said, Trail 1! Finally. Trail 1 gave us a nice easy ride out to the paved Mountain View Road where we could enjoy some of the beautiful scenery without having to worry what was over the next hill! By this time however, Dyan was beat from her gear shifter not working, and I was a filthy mess from fixing my chain a half dozen times. When returning the bikes, Mike made a comment about how greasy my hand were. I told him of our chain and gear shifting problems which caused him to react oddly. He actually blamed the problems on us stating that while Dyan’s bike was gear shifting hard, it must have been user error because “it worked for him.” He went on to tell me that I was obviously riding the bike wrong if the chain kept coming off. He was quite defensive, so Dyan and I headed to the front desk to check in to the room – we had lots of plans this evening!

First up, we had a wine tasting in the 1865 Wine Cellar. I can’t tell you the kinds of wine we tasted, but they were pretty tasty. They also served cheese, crackers and fruit, which was a nice little snack before dinner.

And speaking of dinner, we had reservations at Stickney’s Steak and Chop Pub, in the iconic Omni Resort at Mt. Washington – a quick 15 minute drive from our resort. This place is supposed to be a world-class steakhouse, but it ended up being anything but that.

We aren’t wine drinkers, but thought we might try it with our steak dinners. We asked the waiter for a sweeter red wine. Dyan and I chose differently based on his recommendations. Neither ended up being sweet at all. Mine tasted like jet fuel, and Dyan’s was like a glass of red vinegar (although, she didn’t complain about hers). After one sip, I ordered a Diet Pepsi.

For starters, we selected the crisp fried mozzarella, which was a giant brick of mozzarella with little fried coating. We also both got the filet mignon. I don’t know how you mess up a filet, but they surely did. No seasoning not cooked very well and just overall a tough piece of meat. That would be the worst $150 we spent on the trip. Dinner was a bust, but at least we got a good laugh!

10/1/19

I had expected today to be a boring drive on the interstate back to Boston to catch a flight home. However, the drive turned out to have some really fun impromptu stops which ended up being highlights of the trip.

Being that we were only 10 minutes away from the Bernie Sanders territory, we decided to make the trip west to the N.H./Vermont border town of Lancaster for breakfast. Then, we crossed the state line into Vermont and made our way down highways through the sleepy towns along the Connecticut River. Just outside of Lunenburg, VT, we crossed the Mount Orne Covered Bridge. This was our first covered bridge of the trip!

We continued south winding along the river and valleys, taking in the vibrant red and orange foliage that canvassed the mountains. It was the most beautiful fall colors we had seen the entire trip.

We joined up with I-93 in St. Johnsbury and headed southeast toward Boston.

It didn’t take long for us to start gaining elevation as we made out way out of Franconia and up Cannon Mountain.

Just past the very intense black diamonds of the ski area were signs for Flume Gorge. I recall seeing the first sign for the area and turning to Dyan and saying something like, “That sounds like a cool place!” Dyan looked at me and said, “I was thinking the same thing!” Neither of us knew what a Flume Gorge was, but we took the next exit, because we were now on an adventure to find out. The Flume Gorge could have been a trail, an amusement park ride, a historical site, a logging mill or maybe even a hotel or restaurant. We didn’t even know where it was. It could have been an hour away or maybe longer? Just off the interstate we got our first idea what and where the Flume Gorge was. On the exit ramp was a state park sign for Flume Gorge telling indicating it was less than a mile away. Sweet!

The parking lot was in the middle of the mountainous forest, and it was packed with cars. Hikers were milling around in their big boots, rain gear and cold weather clothes. Dyan and I looked like we were dressed for a summer day on the water. Shorts and flip flops. The cold damp weather was not going to stop us from doing or seeing whatever this Flume gorge thing is…

We approached the visitor’s center where mountaineers stood in line for tickets. When it was our turn, we asked, “What are we standing in line to buy tickets for?” The ranger pulled out a map with hiking trails leading to Flume Gorge. It was deep ravine with rushing water running through it creating multiple cascading waterfalls. It was a 2-3 hour round trip hike, but if we used the shuttle, to the base of the gorge, it was a 1.5 hour hike. The ranger told us it would be wet, slick and muddy. I looked down at my flip flops, and Dyan’s cute canvas shoes. Our eyes met, smiling, knowing there was no chance we were leaving that place without experiencing the Flume Gorge. We bought tickets.

Because we were pressed a bit for time (we did have a flight out of Boston in 6 hours, and were still a solid 2 hour drive from the airport), we opted to take a shuttle to the base of the gorge. The shuttle ride is super cool because it took us across the Flume Covered Bridge – the most photographed covered bridge in all of New Hampshire.

After a .5 mile hike up a steep trail, we reached our entrance to the gorge (which is actually the exit because it’s where the water flows out of the gorge). The granite walls shoot straight up in the air nearly 100 feet. The pathway through the gorge is a narrow platform that has been constructed to walk above water level. The water flows through the gorge, which is never more than 20 feet wide. If you have claustrophobia, this is NOT the place for you. The walkway raises alongside the gorge wall as it zig zags across the water giving visitors the best views of the waterfalls.

It took about 45 minutes to make our way through the 800-foot long gorge. And by the end, we were way up on top of the gorge, where the creek dumps in. This was one of the coolest stops on our trip.

By noon, we made it to the Mustang and were about to get back on the interstate, but first needed some fuel. We were in the run down resort town of Lincoln, NH when we stopped at Irving Oil. A Gas Station that will certainly leave an impression on you. This is ground zero to the Betty and Barney Hill alien abduction. The gas station is full of newspaper articles, pictures and documents explaining the events that had taken place. Complete with alien blow up dolls and visitor t-shirts this gas station was an experience that caters to the tourists.

The remainder of our drive into Boston was not nearly as eventful. We actually arrived a few hours early, so we sat at Constitution Beach Park and watched jets land over Belle Isle Inlet.

Around 6PM, we were wheels up en route to Minneapolis. There were some pretty good lines of storms over the NorthEast and upper Midwest, so our flight path diverted us way north over Sault Saint Marie in Canada before finally bringing us home. The flight was over 4 hours, which was nearly double our flight time to Boston.

This trip solidified Boston as our favorite Big City to visit.

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newmusickarl · 3 years

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Album & EP Recommendations

Album of the Week: Blue Weekend by Wolf Alice

Wolf Alice have already proven that they are quite adept at meeting high expectations. Having released their debut My Love Is Cool in 2015 to much acclaim and a Mercury Prize nomination, there was a lot of talk at the time as to whether the rock quartet could deliver with their eventual follow-up. With their sophomore effort, Visions of a Life, however they didn’t just deliver – they went one better. That record won the 2018 Mercury Music Prize, achieving further critical and commercial success.

So amidst all of the hype ahead of the release of their third album, Blue Weekend, there was always that lingering doubt – had Wolf Alice simply set the bar too high this time? Could they match the standard of the first two records, or had they simply peaked too early? Well, history should have taught us that when under pressure, Wolf Alice are more than capable of finding that next level – and find that next level they have indeed.

With Blue Weekend, the four of them have produced a record that manages to exceed even the highest expectations. At the time of writing, the record is currently sat on a 96/100 on Metacritic, with a 9.5 user score, suggesting widespread universal acclaim amongst both fans and critics.

“But is it deserved or just the hype machine on full tilt?”

Well to be honest in many ways, even that score (the highest of any album in 2021) doesn’t do Blue Weekend justice – yes, it really is that exceptional.

With this album, it feels like Wolf Alice have finally evolved from Britain’s most promising young band to Britain’s best band working today. They have always been the band where the four musicians sound like those from ten different bands, such is their ability to effortlessly switch their sound between genres, yet still remain fundamentally with their own sound. However, with Blue Weekend, the band have evidently honed and refined their craft, with this album more than ever bringing the stylistically different tracks wonderfully together and segueing them into a cohesive, beautifully-packaged flow.

But more so than that, the biggest change from previous efforts is just the greater artistry that is on display here. Not only does every inch of this record simply ooze with sonic majesty and lush production, but the once-shy frontwoman Ellie Rowsell has found her confidence and really stepped into the spotlight. She has always been a wonderful vocalist, but now songs are being built around her voice - whether it is her raw, spoken-word passages or her soaring, awe-inspiring high notes.

Opening on the stuttering riffs and gentle climb of intro track The Beach, the record soon begins in earnest with Delicious Things. Featuring a sumptuous melody and dreamy instrumentation, the track describes a starstruck Ellie encountering the overwhelming hedonism of the LA lifestyle, before a call from her mum back home quickly brings her back down to earth. It is quite the glorious start which then leads perfectly into Lipstick On The Glass, where Ellie’s whispery, near-ethereal vocals perfectly compliment the haunting imagery being painted in the song’s lyrics.

However, it would not be a Wolf Alice record without a juxtaposition of contrasting sounds, which is why the wonderfully buzzy guitars, punky vocals and hypnotic chorus melody of Smile is up next. This is then followed by the angelic harmonies of folky acoustic number Safe From Heartbreak – again it’s a track combination that shouldn’t work on the same record let alone the same sequence, but Wolf Alice somehow make it seem like the most natural fit in the world.

Next up is possibly my early favourite – How Can I Make It OK? – which stood out during its debut during the recent Glastonbury livestream, and I have since had on repeat. One of the record’s more pop moments, it is built on soft melodic synths and some catchy high-pitched harmonies. That said, it is once again Ellie’s vocal performance that steals the show here, as she belts out the heartbreaking line “I just want you to be happy” amongst increasingly grand instrumentation around her. It is a truly stunning track, but before you’ve had time to process it you are suddenly interrupted by the brilliant fast-paced punk energy of the album’s heaviest moment - Play The Greatest Hits. It is a bit of a whirlwind back-to-back listen but again it just oddly works.

Feeling Myself is another early favourite, one that ranks up there amongst Wolf Alice’s best work to date. Built on gorgeous, spacey synths and glistening guitars, the track enchantingly grooves between quite ambient moments and magnificent, goosebump-inducing splendour.

At this point we are then greeted by The Last Man On Earth, a track that felt like an instant classic when it dropped as a single and now already feels like a timeless masterpiece. A haunting piano ballad built around Ellie’s powerful vocals, it starts slow before eventually erupting into a glorious haze of soaring guitars and Beatles-like riffs. This is then followed by another single, No Hard Feelings, a beautifully subdued, two-and-a-half-minute break-up anthem, driven by a soft running bassline and Ellie’s quiet, gentle vocals – again, just stunning.

Ultimately by the time the blissful wonder of outro The Beach II rolls around, you will be left in utter amazement at what Wolf Alice have perfectly crafted here. This is an album that already feels special, and you just know over time it will only gain in stature. In fact, NME in their review billed it as a “stone-cold masterpiece” and I think that is the best three-word description of Blue Weekend you can find right now. As album trilogies go, these first three Wolf Alice records are right up there – and for my money, they have kept the very best for last.

All The Colours of You by James

Elsewhere this week, Mancunian legends James released their fantastic 16th (yes 16th!) studio album, All The Colours of You. Across the album’s 11 tracks, enigmatic frontman Tim Booth tackles everything from the current pandemic to post-Trump America with his urgent lyrics, as the band weave uplifting sonic backdrops that ensure you sit up and pay attention but don’t become too overwhelmed by the heavy subject matters.

Importantly too, this is not Tim speaking on these heavy subjects simply because they are topical – they are sadly built from his own experiences in recent times. This is highlighted with Recover, a heartbreaking string-tinged song, written for and about Tim Booth’s own Father-In-Law who tragically died during the first wave of COVID. It is a beautiful and stirring track that makes for a touching tribute, built on Tim’s haunting, expectedly broken vocals and tasteful, subtle instrumentation.

Single Beautiful Beaches is also another highlight that, although written off the back of the California wildfires that impacted Tim’s own local community, offers a dual meaning that gives hope to those dreaming of a post-lockdown getaway and fresh start. For me though, it is Miss America that strikes the biggest chord, with Tim’s passionate, necessary speech on the grim state of post-Trump America hitting home thanks to both the provocative lyrics and the gorgeous instrumentation.

Overall, this is an album that shows James still have plenty to say despite being almost 40 years into their career at this point. Where other bands of their era are phoning it in and just playing the greatest hits, James continue to endure by keeping in touch with the world and humanity around them.

Track of the Week

Great Mass of Color by Deafheaven

And finally this week, shoegaze-black metal outfit Deafheaven made a triumphant return thanks to a startling but welcome direction change. On this lead single from their forthcoming album Infinite Granite, the screams and heavy guitars are traded for stirring clean vocals and a more melodic, alternative rock sound. Already one of my tracks of the year, it’s left me mightily curious as to what the band have in store for this new record.

#wolf alice #blue weekend #album of the week #best new music #new music #new music friday #james #all the colours of you #tim booth #deafheaven #great mass of color

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christopherrobin33 · 7 years

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Storm trooper punk class reporting for dutie #cwphotography #stormtrooper #punk #tattoo #misfits #kyloren #cosplayphotography #starwars #theempire #firstorder #granitestatecomiccon #granitestatecomiccon2016 #thrasher #scenekid #thrash #metal #music #newhampshire #trooper #sonyalpha57 #50mm #dslrphotography @mattythrash @interchangema @granitestatecomicon (at Granite State Comicon)

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thefanspov · 7 years

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#Regram from @christopherrobinwetherell ・・・ If anyone knows the other cosplayers not tagged in this portfolio, then tag them in the comments to be given proper credit. ・・・ *Cosplayers* Catwoman: @thatwonderwoman.1 Punk Poison Ivy: @ladycorvid.cosplay Navi: @disneyprincesscosplay Boudoir Captain America Model: @closet.geekery Ariel: @makeupmermaid22 Beetlejuice: @cwoodward82 ・・・ *Conventions/Events* Rhode Island Comic Con in Providence, Rhode Island, USA RetroCon in Oaks, Pennsylvania, USA SuperMegaFest in Marlborough, Massachusetts, USA Granite State Comic Con in Manchester, New Hampshire, USA ・・・ #cosplay #cosplayer #cosplayphotography #cosplayphotographer #cosplayersofinstagram #cosplayphotoshoot #awesome #nerd #geek #instagram #instalike #pictureoftheday #picoftheday #con #comiccon #conlife #cosplaylife

#nerd #cosplayphotographer #regram #comiccon #cosplay #cosplayersofinstagram #instagram #pictureoftheday #cosplayphotoshoot #cosplayphotography #instalike #con #geek #cosplayer #conlife #cosplaylife #picoftheday #awesome

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jadesunling · 7 years

Text

Contemporary Zama (Sketch // Origin Story)

It was the 4th of July.

I knew of this bourgeois posh piggy CEO who ran a corporate shipping warehouse in the city.

What's a CEO, the businessperson who runs a company, the boss? Our day's version of a duke or a lord, or a knight. The peasants starve, the duke makes out well enough. But the duke is wealthy, and the people worship his riches, so they see the Duke as virtuous, their savior even, as they slave to maintain his power and strengthen the bonds of their own shackles.

He had three daughters who were all delicate and fine, like no one you'd ever seen in your life, all three of them princesses. Maybe it was because he was a handsome guy, and it was in the blood, or maybe their mother taught them how to take care of themselves in the same way. Who knows the reason, but the youngest of this guy's daughters was so beautiful that the magazines and the celebrities all looked just...like human candy canes, all caramelized, and rotten in comparison.

It was a matter of night and day. People photoshopped the entire world back then, they could tweak images of reality with the touch of a button, but this spirit creature, the youngest daughter, was prior to all of that. She was the kind of beauty who inspired people to use photoshop the way they did, to match the original. She was the image of Aphrodite, the OG, her life a manifest mirror of the ideal of beauty. All the rest were pale imitations.

At least that was the impression I had of her at the time. Sure time changes our memories, rose tinted lenses, and what have you. All that we can do really is remember what our feelings kept for us, and I tell you that she was it, the bee's knees, the dictionary's entry, the source.

So...this CEO guy had a nice multilevel house on the outskirts of the city. It was a scenic place, rustic really. There was a lake, a dark forest, and near an old avocado tree there was a faded wooden dock on the shoreline of the lake, and there were plenty of nights during the summertime when his youngest daughter would go out and sit on the dock to look out at the waves and the stars. There was a sort of magnetic and mysterious force to her. People would follow her, and she didn't care. They would set up live music, shows, festivals, punk riots, bonfires at the lake, but she was like an obelisk through it all, unaffected by the glamor, the sparks and the noise.

When she was bored she would try to leave her body. She would close her eyes, squeeze her hands and toes tight, and her spirit would rise up leaving her body an empty shell for a while even as the chaos around her went on. She never said much about it, but apparently you could tell just from talking with her that she would see things that other people couldn't see. She would see the world from above, in the sky. She could tell you things about the world, about yourself, and about the past and the future.

One evening, though, she did her trick as the party went on around the lake, she left her body, and something must have broken, on the inside somehow. She couldn't get back to herself. Her eyes rolled back into her head, she began to chant this strange melody in what sounded like a dead or made-up language, and everyone thought she was gone for. There were a few onlookers who could have grasped her, restrained her for her own safety, but she pulled out a dagger and held it out to ward them off. It must have been her plan, since the beginning of the evening, or else she may have carried the blade with her at all times which seemed less likely.

A few people in the crowd called the police and told them of the emergency, that an ambulance was needed as soon as possible. She started to tear up, and began to walk down the dock toward the cool waters of the lake, bound the way of Ophelia, perhaps in mourning over a lover or some other reason no one could possibly have known. She cried louder and louder, still chanting in her strange tongue. No one could draw her out of this eerie trance she'd fallen into. She couldn't be comforted. People were afraid to touch her.

Believe me or not, I tell you this happened at 3am. The devil's hour, the witching hour.

I was there. I knew her. She was my friend. Her name was Zama.

Her favorite meal, champagne grapes alongside a good multigrain bread and honey. Her favorite drink, a scotch on the rocks. She had this obsession with a Greek cthonic deity called Hecate, who if you look it up, was the Greek Goddess of magic, crossroads, ghosts, and necromancy. She was just...a strange, a really strange, estranged person. She lived in a different world, all the time.

A couple of days later city newspapers ran the headline that she'd been hauled off to the asylum after it happened. She'd tried to drown herself in the lake that night. The EMR team pulled her out and performed CPR, she survived, but she never really came back. It was as though her spirit had left her flesh and refused, once and for all, to return.

But on the night it happened, at one point or another, it'd begun to rain. It wasn't the violent, stormy downpour one might expect in these circumstances. No, it came down in cold sheets, but calmly, an effervescent haze in the dead stagnation of night. I remember saying to her, there in the rain, as she lay on the stretcher, "What happened?" Her body shook and writhed around, her face taut, like granite, and her eyes these solid, opaque, motionless marbles.

Her head fell to the side, heavy like a stone on its neck, and she looked straight at me, into me, through me. The moment, I've got to imagine, was like seeing someone burned alive in an electric chair or shot to pieces and delivered their last rites as they bleed out on a battlefield, an ocean apart from their home and their loved ones. She was dead already, and very much alone.

She muttered something like, "Poseidon, make me a Pisces?" her brow furrowed; "I'm in the lake, the cool waters now, no more. I'm the lake. Drown it out, babe. Just leave me to the snakes and the dogs. Oh, my innocence, it wasn't me. Clear. S'all clear, so let me be, just let me..."

A week passed, and I visited her at the mental ward, in the state hospital.

Of course everything was sickeningly hygienic, clean, bleached spotless, artificial and safe in the way only hospitals can be. She wasn't strapped down, but there were chained restraints around her ankles attached to a railing on the bed.

I reached out and touched her arm, and her eyes widened some. Her consciousness might have slightly returned, its presence still tender and tenuous, as the stem of a drenched orchid struggles to support its flowering body.

She raised her neck, inch by inch, the effort palpable.

"Just take what you wanted," she said. "My dresses, the silver necklace, all of the jewelry, none of it matters. My helmet. My bike. The books, the stupid records, love, death, beauty, the forest and the trees, I don't want this anymore. I just," and her voice trailed off.

"You're right, it doesn't matter. None of it matters, Zama. Come back. We're here for you..Just, come back to us. For fucksake, my God, what's happened to you."

"Yes," she said, "I'll give you what you want, but this thou art and lord your spirit is mine is the," She sounded drunk or high, but she wasn't. She was just, gone, beyond the world. She paused her spewing of nonsense and came to contemplation for a moment, before screeching out, "You are a frog! You belong in the water with these other frogs, croaky croak Croak CROAK, YEAH?!"

I wanted to save her, find whatever part of her had left its flesh and blood, help her back to her own humanity, but of course it wasn't possible. Her eyelids shut out the room again, and her chin came to rest on the mattress.

"Wait," I said. "Where are you, Zama? Where are you?"

It was no good, she'd blotted out reality and left again. She wouldn't listen. She couldn't even if she wanted to. There was some faculty gone awry, missing, never to return. Over the course of the next few weeks, I visited several more times, and it was clear that she could remember neither her name, my name, or anything about her identity. She'd truly never left the lake. Her spirit was somewhere there in the waves, under the dock or in the shallow murk.

Once I visited her as she ate in the cafeteria.

As I entered she jumped up from her chair, and for an instant I thought she might have recognized me. She looked at me, her mouth opened, then closed up again. Then she shook her head, sat down at the table again, and looked to be quite terrified.

One of the ward physicians walked in, saw her state of being, and said with a measure of authority, his voice steady and forceful, "Zama. What's happening? You're doing fine, today, aren't you? Is there something bothering you that we should go over?"

She replied matter-of-factly, a dearth of expression, "There is a disgusting frog, standing right, right there. Beside that woman there. Over there."

The man in his hospital gown, with his clipboard and hammish forehead creased with stress lines, looked at me, looked severe, and I took a few steps aside, not meaning to disturb anyone. I had been regularly visiting for quite some time, and the staff recognized me well enough not to be alarmed.

"And what does it want from you, the frog?"

"The water. The lake. Under the dock."

I shed a few tears now, as I knew there were parts of her mind with still the capacity to connect with some images, moments, movements from her past life, but that she would never be quite able to grasp her reality ever again, or at least that it would be unlikely.

"He said that he wanted to love me. He said that he would be mine. But he was gone, forever. But now he's here again. I promised, so now I must. He's right there, and he wants me to keep my promise. Do you remember my promise?"

I couldn't help it anymore. I burst out, "Zama! God damn it you beautiful bitch, come back to us! Do you not remember at all, what you told me, before you ended up here? A month ago, during the dancing, music, at the dock, before you pulled the dagger and jumped into the fucking lake." Of course now the doctor beckoned for a couple of strong men to drag me from the premises.

"Zama! Damn it, Zama. Remember. Remember who you are. You can do it. Don't give in."

The physician shouted, "That is enough. You're disturbing the patients. Gentlemen, please remove this man from the facility."

Then Zama bound across the cafeteria, pushed open the double doors leading to the adjacent hallway, and I followed her out the room, the two strongmen close behind us. There was something different in her face, I could see. Her eyebrows arched.

She seemed self-aware.

As we both ran through the corridor I said to her, "Zama, are you getting out of here?" She clenched her jaw and delayed response. We kept moving. I grabbed an empty gurney and some IV equipment and toppled them over and across the hallway to block our pursuers.

We made a couple of turns and reached an elevator.

"There could be police outside. You know that, right?" She nodded to indicate that she did. Then, at last, she spoke.

"When the elevator door opens, there will be a window across from us. We're going to break the window and exit the building. There will be iron ladder in the garden alcove to our right. We're going to scale the ladder to the top of the building."

I wanted to ask how long she had been planning all of this, how she knew there was a garden alcove with a ladder, but she then said, "Three men, outside the door. Stand behind me. Stand back. Brace yourself." It was as though we were gliding through a dream, and she held the loom in her very breath. The door opened, and there were, just as she had said, three men waiting.

They rushed into the tiny compartment and grabbed at her arms and wrists.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn't wish to hurt these men, but with her freedom at stake she knew what must be inflicted upon them. Her face wrenched into a state of pure concentration, a dark energy fomented in the static space around her body. There was a sonic wave, the three men, lifted from their feet, flew out, into the hallway, and one of them crashed through the window across the hall.

Zama stumbled out the elevator, and I followed close behind. Now likely due to the broken window an alarm system had gone off. Flashing red lights spangled the hallway, and emergency sprinklers had activated. I noticed beads of water glowed a cerulean blue as most of them evaporated into steam on on contact with her, and a few rolled off her skin, turning to wisps of smoke before they reached the floor tiles.

She turned her head back at me, a glint in her eye.

"Thank you."

We snuck through the shrubbery of the garden and climbed the iron ladder to the top of the structure. As we walked across the concrete rooftop, I said something like, maybe it wasn't such as great idea for us to be fleeing the authorities, and that we could have extradited her from the hospital through legal means.

She turned around and grasped me by the collar, terribly angry for a moment, staring through me with those same eyes she'd had on the ambulance stretcher at the lake, contraband gemlike eyes, dangerous eyes, with venomous, mantis green irises, and inkblot pupils dilated wide.

"Listen," she said. "You're the one who started the scene, and now the dogs of psychiatric hell are behind us. Do you want to end up here with me? No?" She shook her head. "Then let's get out of here already." Sirens in the distance, there were woods along a steep hill ahead of us, and wilderness beyond.

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