#please nobody fight about this its all good fun

[fayewoodss]

what's harder to believe: Blizzard trying to convince us that Mercy is 37-39 or Valve trying to convince us that Sniper is 26-30

[stillfrownyclownlol]

Gonna throw up If I can't talk about them-

Bunch of Aiden analysis under the cut because he's just SO OBSESSED CODED AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT 😭 (I will be very weird about it)

The way it's so doomed from the start. He's already so fascinated by her. It's in the little jump he does when she sits in front of him, like a secret they're both in on, like her sitting in front of him is some obscure way of her inviting him into a conversation.

Why is he like this (not positive but not negative either)

He has such a cocktail of personality traits and, most certainly, mental disorders, and his own history that makes it so, when he's in love, that it WILL blow up in his face.

The fact that he's been homeschooled for his entire life- he has no idea. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. He doesnt realize that its not normal. of course he doesn't :( His parents obviously leave him alone for long stretches of time and he doesn't seem to mind this. He hasn't had the chance to develop his social skills at all-

It's why he's so, let's be real, creepy. Ash makes it very clear she's not interested and he just keeps worming his way into her life. He plots so that she'll go on the field trip, he follows her around, he goes to her fucking house on the first day. LIKE, HELLO? RED FLAG?

He's having evil thoughts here I swear 💀

And already so quickly after meeting her he makes Ash his priority. He asks to sit next to her, he engages and makes an effort to talk to her. Tries to joke around with her. Gives her a nickname. Touches her. He's so touchy.

And defends her!!! When Tyler gets pissed at Ash, he honestly goes off on him even tho he KNOWS Ash can defend herself- and he's so...dark about it. There's a threat hidden behind his words. He's MAD here, right? Tell me I'm not crazy, please-

He also very clearly has violence on the forefront of his mind 💀 He's the first one to actively attack the phantoms; not to defend himself, not to defend somebody else (well, he pulls Ash out of the way), but for fun. And he's disappointed when they don't scream. He's sadistic, he likes causing pain, it's something he relishes in.

I mean look at how he smiles!!! None of the other kids have such an...active ENJOYMENT in fighting the phantoms, but for Aiden, it's almost like he finds relief in it, some way to vent out his frustrations. He's eager for a fight, for a thrill.

That's how Aiden sustains himself, he pretty much operates under "I'm here for a good time, not a long time." Everything he does gives him a boost of adrenaline, no matter the consequences. He got into a fight? Eh, who cares about all the bruises, at least it got his blood rushing. Broke a bone while doing parkour or smth? Whatever, the way his stomach dropped when he was falling as totally worth it.

It's a very dangerous mentality to live with, obviously. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's an addict. More than anything else, Aiden wants something that makes him feel alive.

And what makes you feel more alive than love?

Like not to minimise or anything but he's known her for like. 2-3 months- and he's already SO scared of losing her. Like I just don't think he would have had this type of reaction with anybody else besides Ben. He would have absolutely lost his shit if Ash 'died'.

He's a straight up love junkie. He's obsessive. Nothing beats the high love can give you. It overrules everything else. If Ash (or whoever he's interested in) feels bad because of smth, he's done with it.

He LIKED dying. He LIKED the adrenaline rush. But he won't do it again. Not because he had some realization that he didn't want to die, that he still wanted to live and do things, but because Ash was upset. Because this, this rush of care from her part, the way she was so scared of him dying that she was shaking, nothing could fill the hole in his heart better than that. And now that he has a taste for it, he won't let go easy. He will keep on living- if it means Ash will be by his side.

Which is a very dangerous position to put her in. Ash already feels responsible for her friends, and she doesn't even know that Aiden has "put" his life in her hands, not that it's her responsibility, because it isn't, but she will certainly feel responsible if Aiden does something FOR her.

Like He's so fucking obsessed and he doesn't even realize it- like look at how he sees her 😭 THE HEAVENLY GLOOOOOOW, LIKE SHES AN ANGEL AND HE THINKS SHE CAN SAVE HIM. BABY SHE CANT, YOU HAVE TO SAVE YOURSELF.

He could spiral so fucking bad. He could do some absolutely heinous things. Because he just doesn't know. He doesn't know how to love truly, yet. For him love really is that rush of adrenaline, the knife carving out his heart, he could be putty in her hands, or her executioner. This love that can be so obsessive, that he NEEDS it to function, like its water, like its the air he breathes. Its a compulsion, a fixation, a longing that burrows into your very soul. Ash doesn't even know what she's getting herself into-

Godddddd, it makes me so sick/ pos, it's SO FUCKING INTERESTINGGGGGG. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

I literally cannot function around this drawing 🫠

The. The hand. That way he's grabbing her. He's pulling her back. Towards HIM. like "this is mine. And I'm not sharing." And that little fucking look in his eyes, he just looks SO fucking pleased with himself. And Ash looks so...resigned. they're so doomed-coded, i love them so bad.

I don't know how I was supposed to NOT make a killer au, when he's just...like that around her.

Love is a wonderful thing. But love is also cruel, it is vicious, it is possessive and obsessive, and it will leave carnage in its wake.

Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You cannot stop thinking about another human being. -Helen Fisher

[sunseed-fandump]

Every good circus needs a Big Top! And this here is the tent used by the Liar's Circus! But don't be fooled by its small size, the interior is guaranteed to blow any circus fan away! All forms of entertainment can be found within!

Nobody can put a price tag on FUN! So everything is free for the taking! Just step through the door!

Eat, drink, be merry! Let your emotions fly as high as the trapeze!

All that energy will soon be put to better use...

More information about the individual areas under the cut!

ARENA

This is the central area where most performances are given. From clowning around to acrobatic feats that boggle the mind, it's all done here! All paths around the circus lead back to this area, so it is also typically considered "the crossroads" of the circus.

The path to the Arena from the entrance runs through a gauntlet of concessions and gift stands. So many wonderful treats on display almost makes it feel like a dream.

Zoo

All manner of strange creatures are kept within the cages. Summoned from the great beyond lie beasts twisted by shadows and kissed by the forbidden reaches. Lions? Tigers? Bears? Those are nothing compared to what lurks behind the steel bars...

Games Square

Up for a challenge? The Games Square is the perfect place to show off one's skills. Tests of strength, dexterity, and intelligence can be found here. And don't worry about losing, everyone is sure to walk away with a wonderful prize! Just.. Be careful not to get lost in the hall of mirrors.

Playground

This area is for those who crave some good old-fashioned fun. The map really doesn't do it justice. A beautiful carousel spins all day long, filling the air with joyous music. Slides, swings, and various other pieces of equipment offer plenty of ways to play, play, play! So run around! Scream and shout! Let out all that pent-up energy!

Theater

Beautiful tear-jerking performances and awe-inspiring tales are spun on this stage. There's never a shortage of stories! All of them were written by the world's finest playwright, poet, director, actor, clown-- Huh? Who is he? Our beloved Ringmaster of course!

Staff Area

This is where Gingerbrave, Strawberry Cookie, and Wizard Cookie stay. Each performer gets their own tent, filled with all the basic comforts a hard-working cookie needs. Of course, they're tailored to the individual interests of each child as well. Wizard has a cozy little tower filled with books. Strawberry has all sorts of games to keep her occupied. As for Gingerbrave, he's got toys, crayons, and even a whole trampoline in there! The kids are certainly comfortable.

Ok, that's all cool but what's ACTUALLY going on in there?

The answer to that is simple, this plane exists to gather energy for Shadow Milk Cookie. Magic is tied to emotion. So the more excited the guests feel, the more life energy Shadow Milk collects from them. Everything here is perfectly harmless (to guests), as the point is to only illicit strong emotions of thrill, excitement, and joy.

Guests are free to come and go as they please, but when they do leave, everyone feels especially drained.

And if the circus faces a tough crowd? Well, fear is also a viably strong emotion to gather energy from.

The only Cookies in the tent who Shadow Milk Cookie does not collect energy from is the kids. As they need their strength to perform and complete whatever tasks are given to them.

Cookies who are labeled as "Intruders" will have a horde of phantoms, animals, and puppets come down on them from all sides, and that's not even counting how Shadow Milk can control everything and anything inside. So it's best not to pick a fight unless one is prepared...

[heartfullofleeches]

Maybe a better idea..... Farmer Flemish giant rabbit Yan catches Foxboy reader, but gives reader the choice that if he becomes the yans malewife he can live.

(That was the plan to some extent in the long run, but the chase is fun, no? Regardless, here's a blurb of the two lovebirds)

Male Flemish Rabbit Yan + Foxboy Reader

Warnings: Imprisonment, kidnapping. Reader's pronouns are not mentioned, but they are thought of as male. The term Wife is used.

-

That bastard....

"Let me out! Let. Me. Out!"

Rearing your legs as far back as the tight space would grant, your knees bump into your chest as you kick out. Metal grates dig at your arms with every slight turn and jostle of your body. Dirt and moulted feathers mat your fur, yet there isn't any poultry in sight for you to feast and console yourself upon.

Damn it... You knew it was too good to be true. That farmer was a fool, but a watchful and cautious one at that. He'd never leave the door to his pens open unless he was sick or injured. Maybe part of you had prayed that he was. Wrong as it may be to wish ill on someone making a living for himself, you were just trying to survive too.

"Let me out.... please.." Your voice wavers as the pains of hunger and stress exhaust what little strength you have left. Your balled fists slap pathetically against the metal cages as tears well in your eyes, daring to spill. You won't let them. You won't let him win.

"I said...GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

The gravel outside your wooden prison shifts.

"In due time, Love. We've got a deal to make first."

Dread consumes the emptiness in your stomach, pinning your limbs to the dirt covered floor as he at sinks to his knees. Your knees curl into your chest once more, body and mind subconsciously making yourself smaller as his larger figure draws into view - blocking your sight of the forest beyond his land. Your home. You don't even realize your crying till his fingers brush the wetness from your cheek. You have half a mind to bite them off as they get stuck between the grates.

You snarl- "If you wanted me gone you could've asked..."

The farmer presses a strong hand to his mouth, suppressing a laugh. "If I wanted ya gone, I would'a taken the sheriff's generous offer of a shotgun the last time I had him over. You know how he is about outsiders."

The bite in your stare remains - still, your legs quiver at the mention. "You aren't going to turn me over to him, are you?

He can't. The farmer is lenient towards your crimes, but that man.. That rabbit... He'll have you hanging from the town hall by nightfall.

"Please... I'll...I'll do anything...I'll work off my debt day and night, I-"

"Sweetheart...." The farmer rest a hand on the steel wall of the coop, gently petting its bars as he would your fuzzy little head once you agreed to be his. "It's okay. Nobody's gonna hurt you or make you do any hard labor."

"Then-" Your cracked tongue wets your splitting lips. "What do you want from me?"

The farmer cranes his head, meeting you eye to eye. The bags beneath his eyes seemed heavier than usual. How long had been out here waiting for you to return?"

"Cute little fox like yourself shouldn't be out here scrounging around for scraps or the occasional unattended hen. You should have a roof over your head, a comfy bed, all the food you could ever want."

What's he going on about? Another trap?... "If I'm not going to work for it... How does this deal benefit you?"

"I want you to be my wife."

"Wha?!- Ouch!-" Your head shoots up, ramming into the low hanging support beams. "Are you crazy?"

The farmer lets a chuckle slip. "Heh, I'd have to have lost my mind not falling for ya. Think about it this way, Sweetheart. You come home with me and I fill that belly of yours full of food. Or I call up the sheriff and he fills it with lead. Your choice."

Your howling stomach betrays any fight you have remaining. You don't have many options in this scenario. Push come to shove, you could possibly make your escape in the dead of night when he least expects it - taking as many of his hens as your arms could carry.

"Okay... I'll.. be your wife."

"Smart fox." The farmer stands - rounding the corner to the front of the henhouse. He lifts the wooden board that had fallen into place as you crawling inside hours ago. Your legs are too cramped and spent from all that kicking to fight him as he pulls you out by your tail and into his well built arms. The farmer presses his nose to your face, nuzzling your cheek as he walks off towards his home - carrying you bridal style.

"Welcome home, Hun."

[thirstywoso]

Forget about your girlfriend - Jessie Fleming x Reader 18+

W/C: 2.2k

Synopsis: Reader falls for Jessie after realising her relationship has ran its course

A/N: Just here for the angst, having a weird ass time at the minute and wanted to write something that wasn't so fluffy and was more shitty of reader

Warnings: cheating MDNI 18+, Oral, Fingering (giving and receiving) , strap (receiving), I can't think of anything else because if I'm honest I rushed the end of this and probably got repetitive because I'm so mentally and physically exhausted. Hopefully some better fics are coming I just wanted to put something out for y'all even if it was a rush job.

Your relationship had been on the rocks for awhile, the love you once shared had begun to dwindle, the fun you used to share gone, romantic gestures all but a distant memory.

You stayed though, out of convenience. A break up would be too much hassle and staying together would make you feel less lonely.

That was until Jessie had moved to Portland, you'd heard of her but hadn't ever met before. Yet you hit it off straight away, the way she knew exactly what to say to make you laugh.

How even when you were having an off day she could read you and cheer you up, she just got you in away that nobody had before.

Of course you felt guilty you loved your girlfriend, just Jessie added something to your life that you felt was missing.

That's what brought you to tonight, after innocent flirting and months of getting closer with Jessie you'd gone straight to her after a heated fight with your girl.

Your eyes were brimming with tears and she pulled you into a hug, tightly holding you. It's when you pulled back and looked into her deep brown eyes that you knew you were fucked, the tension all too much.

Pulling her closer your eyes dart between her lips and her eyes, a sudden rush coming over you, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Then it was too late, your lips were on hers and her hands were on your hips. Pulling you tight. Biting on your lip to ground herself trying to control the urge to pull you to the bedroom.

Your hands began roaming along her back not letting her pull away, until you needed to breathe.

"Do you want me to stop?.. if you do please say because if we keep going I don't think I will be able to stop myself" she states matter of fact.

You nod your head pulling her back in, arms running along her shoulder blades dragging down until your finger tips are running along her waist. Her actions mirroring yours as you fall deeper into each other.

She begins to pull off your shirt looking at you to double check you were still okay, your eyes meet and you violently nod your head. The look on Jessie's face sending a pulse to your core.

Without a second thought you began ripping each others clothing off discarding all over Jessie's apartment floor before she held your jaw pulling you with her toward her bedroom.

Getting through the door she twists you around pushing you as you step back toward her bed, your calves meeting the end of her bed as she shoves you backwards.

Your head falling into her pillows, her scent overwhelming as you stare up at her longingly.

"I'm going to fuck you so good, you forget your name" she says so causally

"This is your last chance to stop or I'm going to have you whimpering my name and not hers" she offers

"Prove it" you give

That's all Jessie needed to hear as her lips were back on yours in a heated kiss, that then trialed across your cheek and down your neck, feather light kisses and kitten licks of her tongue follow the column of your neck.

Your core beginning to feel like molten lava

"Please" you whimper out as her hand snakes between the two of you, slowly making its way to where you so badly needed her.

"Fuck" she gasps gathering the wetness on her finger tips "do you get this wet for her?" She almost laughs

"Just for you Jessie" you whimper out as her fingers circle your bundle of nerves.

"What's that baby? She doesn't make you this wet? Speak up for me" she mocks her fingers slipping inside of you.

"Fuck.. only you make me this wet Jessie" you moan, head falling back into the pillows eyes rolling back at the delicious stretch she provided you.

Jessie whispering sweet nothings in your ear as her fingers curl deeper "you look so fucking good like this" she groans into your neck" you cry out at her words needing more.

Grabbing onto her hair you begin to push her down, she knows exactly what you want as she trails kisses down your stomach. Blowing gently on your core she removes her fingers before sucking them into her own mouth. Tasting you for the first time, her eyes roll back drunk on your taste.

You laugh down at her "good?" You question.

"You wanna try yourself?" She responds with a nod, dipping her fingers back into you before pulling them out dripping in your arousal.

Wiping her finger tips along your bottom lip before thrusting them into your waiting tongue so you could taste yourself.

You gush at the idea of her fingers fucking your throat and you begin to make a show of cleaning them. Head bobbing up and down gagging on her digits.

She chuckles to herself as she leans down kissing your core, soft at first but then more hungry, kisses to your clit followed by swipes of her tongue through you folds until she is overtaken by want.

He tongue dives into you, furiously fucking you in a frenzy your entrance pulsing around her as her nose bumps into your bundle of nerves.

Your hands find her hair tugging at it as your mouth falls open a silent scream erupting from deep in your throat as she hits the spot you need her most.

Jessie groans into your wet heat adding her ring and middle finger once more, joining her tongue as they dive inside you making your toes curl and eyes screw shut.

Lifting off the bed your hips begin to buck into her mouth and fingers trying to pull her closer into you, your free hand screwing up the sheets beneath you.

Retracting her tongue she begins to suckle on your folds and make her way to your clit that she sucks between her teeth, flicking her tongue over it repeatedly.

Humming to herself at the shake in your legs and repeating the motion, you can't help but whimper as you feel your orgasm approaching.

Before you know it you are falling off the edge and Jessie is back by your head kissing you, overwhelming you with your own flavour.

Her hand is gently caressing your thigh and her lips begin to leave a trail of feather light kisses on your neck as you catch your breath.

"Wow that was something else" you manage to puff out with a slight giggle.

"You look so pretty when you cum y/n, I could watch the way your face screws up and mouth hangs open on repeat" she admits nipping at your ear lobe

"Then make me do it again" you whisper in a tone that almost sounds like a question.

"Mmm yeah?" She says shifting onto her elbow looking down at you. "You want to come apart on my cock?"

You nod your head pulling her in for a kiss, when she pulls back you let her know exactly what you want "Please Jess, fuck me"

She doesn't need to be told twice, grabbing one of her favourite straps from the draw she secures it to her waist before kneeling in front of you again as your legs involuntarily spread for her.

She rubbed the tip along your slit gently before leaning down to kiss you as her length slid past your entrance hitting your throbbing clit and back, repeating this motion as she gently rocked her hips into you as your kiss became more feverish.

She sucked down gently on your tongue as your hands found their way to her shoulders and raked gently up and down her back.

As your tongues battled for dominance you reached between the two of you finding the base of Jessie's newest appendage and angling it so the tip stretched at your opening on Jessie's next thrust.

"Please, I need you inside me, Jessie I want to be so full of you please" you beg her, knowing you needed to feel her stretch you open.

As your hands grab back onto her shoulders Jessie's cock fills you to the hilt, both of you letting out shuddering breaths.

The two of you realising how deep inside you she is, scared to move knowing that there is no turning back now. Your eyes flutter at the feeling of being full of her as she groans just imagining the way you are pulsing around her the same way you did on her fingers.

After a deep breath she pulls back until only the tip is stretching your entrance before slamming her hips back down causing you to grunt, enjoying your reaction she does it again her eyes rolling back at the hitch in your throat as she grinds into you.

"You're taking me so well pretty girl" she praises you as she fills you up again.

Your eyes roll back at her words as she quickens her pace, her finger tips making quick rhythm across your clit.

It had been so long since you had felt this good and the pang of guilt you had subsided pretty quickly once Jessie's lips attached themselves to your neck.

"Forget about your girlfriend" she whispers into your ear, you were so drawn to Jessie that you didn't even remember her name which you knew was so bad, but something inside you just didn't care.

"You are such a bad girl but look at you being a good girl for me" she whispers in your ear nibbling on your ear lobe for emphasis.

The pleasure from her strap nudging against your most needy spot and her little pants and words of encouragement in your neck drove you straight to the edge.

Pulling back she looked into your eyes her speed in thrusts and clit stimulation increasing

"That's it baby, cum for me" she groans as she grabs your ankles angling deeper inside you pushing you over the edge, her longing stare into her eyes driving you feral.

Your nails clawing down her back as you cum on her thick cock, she giggles slightly into your neck as she collapse atop you.

After some time you both start to move, Jessie peeling herself off of you and cuddling you into her.

Your hand traces soft patterns across her exposed skin, before dragging the strap on off of where she had secured it. Discarding it somewhere in the room before your hand found purchase between her legs once more, dipping your fingers between her folds you gather some of her wetness.

The slide of your fingers mixed with the way you could feel her dripping made you crazy, it wasn't long before you sunk your fingers in knuckle deep. Causing both of you to groan out.

"So wet for me Jessie" you half laugh half groan

"Does she get this wet for you baby?" Jessie smirks which you quickly wipe off her face with an overly eager curl of your fingers and a delicate kiss to the edge of her mouth.

Pumping your fingers in harder you kiss her, swallowing her moans as you feel her walls flutter around your digits.

A particularly delicious curl sent her eyes rolling back and her mouth agape, she looked so fucking beautiful so open and relaxed for you.

Kissing along her jaw and neck, biting, sucking and soothing with your tongue repeatedly as you add another digit.

Jessie stretching around you further, worked up from seeing you come undone and from the stimulation the bottom of the strap provided her clit it wasn't long until you had her on the precipice.

One powerful and skill full curl and scissor of your fingers sent her careening off the edge you'd placed her on, kissing her face and neck repeatedly as she shuddered and came down from her high.

Once you'd both caught your breath you were soon wrapped in each other warm embrace.

You hadn't felt so content and safe in such a long time that you began to cry.

"What's wrong baby?" She asks using the pad of her thumb to wipe away your tears.

"I think I know what to do" you say dryly

"...end things" you carry on noticing Jessie's raised elbow

Leaning down she places a kiss on your forehead and rubs your cheek

"Whatever you do or do not decide to do, I will be here for you" she reaffirms

"I love you Jess" you whisper

You think she whispers it back but your eyes were heavy and you drifted into a sleep tucked up in her arms, overwhelmed with her scent from the bed sheets and her proximity. You'd never felt so safe and cared for and you couldn't help the sleep taking over.

[teaboot]

Fun fight things I never see in fight scenes:

You are giving me important information from the sidelines and I can't hear you because my entire head inside this man's armpit

We are fighting and it is important that I focus on winning but I am hesitant to pull this maneuver because doing it puts me in danger of accidentally grabbing a dick or a titty

Someone's hand slipped up a shirt or down a waistband for a sec and we're both gonna pretend it didn't until we die

Dude you just got drool like all fucking over my face just now what the fuck

Okay I get that you're about to snap my neck with your thighs but also you totally just farted a bit which is reasonable considering the position we're in but still oh my God

If the last thing I experience on earth before I die is your ass in my face I'm going to drag you to hell with me

Someone is trying to give me advice right now and if they don't shut the fuck up I'm gonna kill them

I know the perfect maneuver to get out of this but if I go for it I'm definitely gonna dislocate my shoulder and I haven't decided if I want the win that bad yet

I just heard my knee pop and either it's fine or I'm going to spend the next six months in physical therapy and be in pain for the rest of my life

I thought I walked away from that ok but it's three in the morning and I just woke up out of a dead sleep because one of my limbs just started screaming

"You should ice that" Is the physical injury version of "Well its gotta be around here somewhere"

AW YEAH DID YOU SEE THAT I PULLED THAT SO SMOOTH IM SO GOOD IM KICKING ASS RIGHT NOW And ah fuck he got me

Hey bud you wanna maybe stop watching and lend me a fucking hand maybe

I Am Between You And Very Upset Person And If You Keep Pissing Them Off Then I Am Going To Get Stabbed

Nobody Expects To Get Licked

Oh God dude you smell so bad. Like you smell SO bad

Okay so like. I WOULD fight you but tbh you're actually super gross and I sort of don't wanna touch you. What is that stain from? You know what I don't wanna know, I don't wanna think about it

You are giving me important information from the sidelines but are missing some critical details that I cannot explain right now and you're getting frustrated that I'm not listening and I'm getting frustrated that you're angry at me for not doing something that will break both my arms at the same time

Sweetheart I love you to the moon and back but cheering me on is actually very distracting and I'm gonna need you to stop right now exactly right now please and thank you so so much baby PLEASE

Why do I smell like them now. Oh God I need a shower

WAS THAT A FUCKING BOOGER WHAT THE FUCK EW EW EW EW EW

haha nice underwear dipshit lol

[thepepsislvt]

Also, do you write for Kid or Killer…………? Is so PLEASE SOMETHING ANYTHING I BEG, EVEN JUST HCS FOR EITHER OR A POLY

-🌷 the Eustass and Killer (and barto ofc) obsessed Tulip

I ENJOY THEM SO MUCH AND I THINK ABOUT THEM SO CONSTANTLY YOU ASK I PROVIDE ❤️

nobody will understand how much i miss the pre time skip killer fit like he looks good in post timeskip but GOD.

Warnings: Cursing, kid being a dick

dating both Kid and Killer there will never be a dull moment

Kid is loud and rowdy and Killer is quiet

you and Kid bicker and poke fun at each other like you’ve known each other your whole life

When you and Eustass are at each other's throats it's Killer who comes and steps in to break the fight

Acts like a mom and is like “I don't care who started it I'm going to finish it”

Because you're too damn stubborn and Kid has such a thick skull Killer has to separate you more than not

Kid may not seem like he cares but he does

he shows it awfully though

he pull up to your bedroom door at an ungodly time of night before going to bed himself

he barges in and bangs on the open door just to wake you up

after your initial reaction which was to grab a weapon and hide under your bed you finally realize its just him

you crawl out and give him a nasty glare

“What is it Eustass? cant it wait until morning?”

“i made this for you asshole”

he gives you a new bracelet or necklace he made himself before leaving without another word

he leaves your door open just to annoy you

you slam the door before returning to bed

the noise from the door being slammed woke Killer awake and he knows exactly what happened

when you all wakeup you get an earful from Killer about being quiet at night because the crew needs to sleep in order to function properly

Killer is almost the exact opposite from Kid

any fights you have with him he will resolve in a normal, calm manner

he lets you sit in the kitchen with him while he cooks

you can talk his ear off and he wont butt in or interrupt you

he does get his piece in when you pause for a moment

most nights he cuddles with you since Kid stays awake pretty late

and if you do stay up late like Kid, Killer will sleep on whatever furniture available and just hold you in his lap

Killer is insecure about his laugh and face so when you first started dating he would only let you kiss his hands or mask

but slowly he warms up to the idea of you seeing his face and every now and again he moves his mask up his face more when you want to give him a kiss

when he does eventually remove his entire mask you cover his entire face in kisses and tell him hes perfect to you even if he doesnt think so

Killer loves it when you play or brush his hair

you help him style it and always puts it into a ponytail for him when hes cooking

Kid lets you kiss him only if you can reach his face

he will make you climb on furniture and jump around just to do so

when hes done making you work so hard he squats down only to tease you even more

“can you reach now, Tiny?”

“well now youre not getting a kiss for that”

“WHAT!? NO THATS NOT FAIR! I WANT A KISS AND I WANT IT NOW”

“Im not giving it to you for that!”

“GIVE ME IT NOW I DESERVE IT”

hes so demanding

when Killer sees Kid giving you shit for being shorter than him Killer will push the back of Kid’s head down so you can reach him

You kiss Kid’s cheek and then go hug the blonde while Kid complains that having Killer help is cheating

on nights where Kid is just worn out and actually decides to go to bed when you and Killer do its an amazing cuddle session

Killer has to separate sleep in the middle which he doesnt mind but only does this because you and Kid will Bicker about anything and everything

“STOP laying on me you big red asshole”

“well youre cutting off my oxygen when you lay on my chest” (you dont he just wants to have the last word)

“God you act like you cant bench triple my weight”

“you two fight like children just shut up and go to sleep” Killer had to physically move either one of you to the other side of him just so the poor guy can sleep

there are some nights you and Kid can sleep next to each other without fighting but you two are always up till 4 in the morning giggling and laughing about the most random ass things

“okay would you rather spend 24 hours in an abandoned mall with 10 cobras or 1 gorilla but you cant use your metal arm or devil fruit”

“Well obviously the gorilla because i feel like i could fight it without those”

“i didnt know youre that dumb”

“oh really what would you pick?”

“the snakes obviously”

“you dont know where they are though! one could drop from the ceiling and theyre harder to hurt! at least you can see the gorilla”

“Snakes are more afraid of you than you are of them if you leave them alone you will be fine”

“But if they bite you youre done for”

“Youre done for if you try and fight a gorilla!”

“i personally think i would intimidate it”

“Kid you cannot intimidate a gorilla, you would be better off with the snakes like they said now shut up”

you and kid do shut up for exactly 4 minutes and 56 seconds then start yapping again

Killer and Kid are the best boyfriends that anyone could ask for

[ironunderstands]

Would be waiting for acheron brainrot ramble here

Is it time for Acheron brainrot ramble? It’s time for Acheron brainrot ramble. Prepare for the most stream of consciousness post ever, I had so much fun writing this she has taken over my consciousness and puppeted me for my own ends, and commanded me to demonstrate how peak she really is. So enjoy, hopefully I can get others to love Acheron just as much as I do.

I think there are three reasons why I like Acheron 1) she’s really fucking cool 2) I love characters who guide/mentor others 3) She’s charming as hell.

Hoyo you aren’t allowed to make characters this good.

The music in her trailer, her aesthetic, the amount of fire fucking one liners. THE COLOR RED (I’ll get into it)

“Find me, your end, my origin.” Who cooked here who wrote this who’s the chef please where’s the restaurant I’m eating this up

“On the still waters of oblivion, I guide the wandering souls” GRAHAJDJWJKSSW YES YOU DO OH MY GOD I CANT PUT INTO WORDS HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS LINE SHUT UP EVERYONE SHUT UP. Like she literally is at the edge of existence fighting to help others find their future, I just. RAAAA

SHE CUTS A BLACK HOLE IN HALF?? HUHH AUGHH a black hole that’s the manifestation of meaninglessness in the universe, and she goes “nah” and fucking obliterates it?!!?

“I weep for the departed” Those who have died are gone, and slowly losing themselves even further. For decades, centuries, millennia, even, Acheron has witnessed this, and still cries for them, still guides them to the other side, even if the task itself is meaningless, because someone should do it, someone has to do it, and that someone is HER.

She saves Aventurine, she saves the Trailblazer, she saves the entirity of Penacony. Someone blessed by the manifestation of nonexistent dedicates her life to giving others a reason to live.

Aventurine asks her why people should bother living, if the dice are always weighted in a certain outcome, then why should we keep going? Aventurine asks her why people should bother living if the universe is meaningless?

He fully expects her to say people shouldn’t.

But Acheron doesn’t do that. The dice are weighted against us. Not just in game, but in reality itself. We will all die, you will die, the people you care about will die, I might die, it remains to be seen. However, before that inevitable ending, before the curtain finally closes, we have so many choices to make. If the ending is the same for everyone, it doesn’t matter, and Acheron tells Aventurine this.

Because the Nihility envelops everyone equally, the universe is equally meaningless for everyone, nobody is the special someone destined to have a destiny. Therefore, it doesn’t matter. Aventurine has no reason to live. And Aventurine has no reason not to live. She tells him his time hasn’t come, because it hasn’t. Until that dice roll, until his final breath, Aventurine can still make choices and he can still choose to live for himself, and that’s the answer Acheron gives him.

But she knows that’s not enough. Aventurine will still struggle to live for himself, after all he’s been through, after the mountain of expectations and hopes and dreams piled onto him. So she tells him his friend has already given him the answer. Aventurine pulls out the note written by Dr. Ratio. It doesn’t give him a plan, doesn’t inform him of what expectations he has for him, doesn’t list every single reason why Aventurine should keep going. Ratio tells Aventurine to stay alive and keep on living, because he doesn’t need anything more than that, there isn’t anything more than that. Her caring about Aventurine, Ratio caring about Aventurine, that’s enough to keep him going, because other peoples love is enough of a reason to exist, universe be damned.

existing. The Existence. AKSJAKKSNDKKWEN.

Like you don’t understand, you don’t understand. ACHERON IS ENVELOPED IN THE MEANINGLESSNESS OF THE UNIVERSE BEFORE SHE FINDS ITS EXISTENCE, ITS VALUE, ITS MEANING. Even if it can never be achieved, Acheron is willing to destroy herself completely as she walks farther and farther into the Nihility trying to find the Existence, even if it takes every from her she will find it. Only by giving up her existence can Acheron find the Existence and kill the Nihility. Only by sacrificing her own life and giving up her own meaning can she give it to others.

Red. She tells the trailblazer that when they can no longer see the world in anything but black and white, there will be a brief flash of Red for them.

Red is the Existence. Red is the color of her blade that allowed her to cut that black hole in half. Red is the only color left when she unsheathes her sword. Red is the color of the tears she cries. Red is the color of the words she speaks to us that truly matter.

Red is the color she cuts into reality. In a world of black and white, in which all the light has been swallowed by IX, and the path ahead is blurry, Acheron illuminates the universe’s future in bright red, creating color, creating life, creating Existence in a world devoid of it.

We will encounter the Nihility along our journey, just as we would encounter every other aeon. The world will seem meaningless, and it will be devoid of color, but when the Trailblazer needs it the most, there will be Red. A reason to keep going, a reason to exist, a reason to keep on Trailblazing, because the path of the Trailblaze’s end is also at the Existence, and we will meet Acheron there again. Whether that color will come from us or her remains to be seen, but it will be there for us when we need it.

However, I think we/the Trailblazer will be alone. As that flash of red isn’t the only thing Acheron tells the Trailblazer.

Only when left alone can people pick themselves up. Only when help is absent can people truly fight for themselves. Only when you are alone, can you truly understand your existence.

That doesn’t mean other people don’t matter, that you have to walk the world alone, that you can only exist devoid of others. Quite the opposite actually, other people can be your reason to exist, something to help keep you going. Acheron knows this, which is why she directs Aventurine to Ratio’s note. That’s the meaning he can find in a meaningless universe.

Moreover, people help each other, they provide the tools other people need to exist, the anchors that ground people in reality, the reason why you might want to wake up in the morning, they create the things and ideas that you need and enjoy. It’s when you are ripped of these comforts, stripped of the things that make you want to keep going, is when people fight for their existence. As in a world devoid of everything, can you truly appreciate the things you have, and acknowledge that since there is now nothing, you are the only something. When there is no one there to save them, fools pick themselves up, and that is Existence.

I love Acheron. I love her silly amnesiac tendencies, I love her beautiful design, I love that she’s a Mei counterpart, but most of all, I love what she stands for.

Acheron is the indomitable human spirit personified, she quite literally chooses to exist in the face of absolute nothing. When the world loses all color, does she paint reality in a bright red with her sword, writing her own destiny with each and every slash.

And for that, I will always adore her.

[thehuntfortrencherlostmedia]

Hello folks.

So, I waited a while to let everything marinate in my brain before writing this. Haven is an interesting album to discuss in the grand scheme of the Trench discography. Everything feels familiar & status quo, but different, new & exciting all at once. Its production is fantastic throughout and truly allows for everything to shine. It’s also their most cinematic album to date, which is saying something given what Astoria was inspired by.

So let’s break down each track, shall we?

A Normal Life: Already gushed about this one when it came out and my thoughts haven’t changed one bit. This just might be my new favourite opener. There’s just a little sprinkling of everything from all across their discography that allows this beauty to marinate and stand on its own.

Lightning & Thunder: I’m torn. I like it still, but I do think that when you listen to it within the context of the album it loses something. It was definitely made to be a radio single. There’s nothing wrong with that.

I’m Not Getting Better: Straight to the point, catchy & fun. I really have nothing else to say on the song.

Down To You: Arguably the biggest earworm on the album. This one gets in your head and it just stays with you.

Now or Never: The By Now of the record for me. Soft & yet full of momentum all at once. This is a dream worth fighting for, indeed. Also, while both INGB & DTY show off a more R&B/Funk flow, it really sticks on this song, and now that you’ve noticed it, you’ll be hearing it a lot throughout the record.

Into The Storm: Hello, Porcelain. But also… it’s own thing. It might not be giving up, but I don’t see it as surrender either. I see it as going with the flow, facing your problems head on. This is also the first true dive into Josh’s relationship with Amanda on the album, and how he’s so happy they finally figured out how to co-exist.

Ancient History: Oh hi, Astoria. You mind if I take elements of Burning Up & Yesterday and blend them into something new? And how about the past arguments in his and Amanda’s relationship don’t matter, and how it was nice to meet back up with her. It shows how time can heal relationships. Also, SAXOPHONE. That is all.

Stand and Fight: The actual Porcelain of the record. People thought they were gonna go in a This Meets War for this song, when instead it’s a slow burn that truly stays with you.

Turn & Run: Here’s how you do a sequel song and then make it stand out from its older brother. Much like the combos of Celebrity Status/Perfect & B-Team/Toy Soldiers, both sides of the coin make me giddy inside. And holy cow… welcome to the edge indeed. That hint of Fix Me screaming… I need more of it Josh. Please? I’ll be a good girl. There’s also a lot of Masterpiece Theatre II on this one. Easily my favourite of the short songs.

Worlds Collide: I go back and forth on this one in my head. There’s parts of me that love it, there’s parts of me that feels it’s too similar to the two tracks before it…. And then we have the end. And that just… made me smile. Also, I love Josh SCREAMING “Nobody’s Safe” and the fact they left in the vocal crack. That’s how you can tell his emotions are in full display here. So yeah.

Nights Like These: The comforting palette cleanser after three songs hit you with whiplash back to back to back. It’s very reminiscent of tavern songs, sea shanty’s & is just a warm hug of a track. Also, breaking down the fact that sometimes it’s nice to have just a cozy, relaxing night with friends. Feels like the Who Do You Love of the record too.

Remember Me By: Um, Micheal? Did you just possess Josh again? This feels so 80’s R&B I can’t help but love it. Also, Ian! Nice to hear you sing, bud. We’ve heard the other three all throughout this record and now we get your voice on top of the amazing percussion. Kudos.

Haven: So, here we are. The closing track. And, it’s good. It feels like they took The Killing Kind , Masterpiece Theatre III & End of An Era Abd threw them in a blender… and the result came out great, but… it does lack something to me? And if anything, it brings out the fact this album fits into the Relationship Theory too: It is about starting anew like I said ages ago but also about how their relationship (Josh & Amanda) isn’t perfect but he loves the imperfection now that they’ve figured out how to make it work. She might’ve broke his heart once but he reconciled & became stronger because of it. And now he can show that all across these 13 tracks.

So yeah. Haven’s likely my album of the year, and I do like it. But I do think that while it has some of the highest highs the band had ever reached, I do think they didn’t fully nail the Hero’s Journey theming & that it’s not as cohesive as some of their other work. It’s a sturdy S-, easily #2 or #3 in my overall rankings, even #1 depending on the day.

[c-is-for-circinate]

MCU Rewatch #3: THOR (2011)

General Impressions: I'm allowed to like this one for reasons unrelated to objective quality! I'm also allowed to dislike it for same!

Thor does a good job at a bunch of things. It manages to really succinctly outline what Asgard's deal is, who the major players are, and how this complete fantasy world works, while remaining in the context of a two-hour movie that mostly doesn't even take place there. It's very funny in places! It's not at all a deep movie, but it's entertaining and fantastical and that's fun. This is -- and was! -- the perfect movie to watch in a cold movie theater during a hot summer, munching popcorn and explosions, and that's a perfectly valid thing to be.

Anyway, for me the best parts and the worst parts of this movie were the same, ie Loki. We'll get there -- he was by far the most complex part of this really quite simple film, and that has its plusses and minuses!

All in all, there's nothing wrong with a simple film, and for the most part that's what I'll say about Thor: it was a simple film with good fight scenes, and nothing much was wrong with it.

OH. Except the sound balancing/editing. That was absolutely criminal and whoever was in charge of sound design for this movie should be shot, not just for their crimes here but for the many years of emulation to come.

The Hero: Like the movie, simple but endearing, with a genuine heart.

Thor is definitely not as compelling as Tony Stark, but he's likeable, and his emotional arc is definitely both present and the most genuine part of this movie. In a lot of ways, what we see here is that Thor is a big kid. He makes decisions without thinking about consequences. He does not bother to try and read a room. He's arrogant in a way that reflects his position, but he's also arrogant in a way that suggests he hasn't considered his position -- having his powers, hammer, and home taken away from him is a shock because he's never thought about the fact that he had them in the first place. Getting sent to Earth is more or less a boy being grounded by his father to try and teach him responsibility. Thor is almost a coming-of-age movie, except that it never quite feels like Thor actually gets there -- he's better, by the end, but not quite a man standing on his own two feet just yet. Breaking the Bifrost is a sacrifice on his part, not a decision carrying the weight of the responsibilities Thor will have as an adult and future king.

That said, I really enjoyed the sincerity of his confusion and grief over being told Odin was dead. He's a hurt little kid, asking his brother if please, can I go home. The scene with Selvig in the bar is one of the best in the movie, with Thor admitting vulnerability and doubt and regret over how he left things with his father. (And again, telling that all of these are feelings about his dad, with a man old enough to be a dad/granddad, and that's the energy Thor needs to lean on right now -- Selvig, not Jane, gets Thor's emotional breakthrough moments, because Thor is a tall handsome child who hasn't grown past needing a parent.)

Also, I vaguely remember some fan back-and-forth about whether Thor is kind of dumb, or very smart but trolling, or very smart and just ignorant of local customs. Upon rewatch, Thor may or may not be smart, but he doesn't particularly care. He does shit on Earth because he doesn't care enough to pay attention to whether it's appropriate. Nobody else is smashing coffee mugs, and the diner is totally lacking in raucous celebratory energy, but Thor wants to be raucous and celebrate, so he's going to do so whether it's appropriate or not. Doesn't matter that he's been driven around in cars his whole time on Earth, he doesn't spend thirty seconds to think about what might be appropriate travel, he's going to make assumptions. This is more of that self-centered teenager logic, where he doesn't bother to try and think about the existence of points of view outside his own.

The Villain: If I end up having Loki Feels by the end of this marathon I'm going to stab something. I refuse.

Anyway, Loki was the most complex part of this really quite simple film, which has good and bad sides! I can and will be objective about how well/poorly that complexity was rendered, but sitting here thirteen years after this movie came out, I can admit it: I really fucking hate the Evil Adopted Kid trope. It's a shitty trope and I don't like it, for personal reasons, and that is always going to color my experience with Loki in any movie where he shows up

That aside, Loki's actual motivations and plans in this movie were baffling and kind of a mess. The problem is that Loki is a complex character, with a lot of doubts, full of love and jealousy and insecurity and pride, but we very rarely get to see him from the inside. It feels like the movie was really invested in surprising people with the end twist of Loki killing Laufey in front of Odin, revealing that actually he was on Asgard's side all along! and does not hate his family! So therefore, for the movie before that, we had to be witness to everyone else's doubts about him and only seeing his actions from the outside, to keep that a surprise. I can see how it'd be effective on a first watch, when the suspense of 'what is this guy going to do and what side is he on?' can pull a viewer through the movie. On a rewatch, knowing what Loki's ultimate deal is, it just feels confusing and inconsistent. What exactly was your plan for when your dad woke up, Loki? Did you actually intend to leave Thor on Earth forever? Were you or were you not actually hoping to kill your brother? What the fuck was your endgame here?

I think there is probably a very interesting story here where Loki's plans seem muddled because he's muddled, awash with emotions and doubts and the inner conflict between love of his brother, twisting jealousy, the objective truth that Thor would be a terrible king, and the fact that Loki, like Thor, is also still very much a grown-up kid. He's making dumb decisions by the seat of his pants and his motivations are contradictory and messy. That tracks, with what we see, but we don't get to see that because this movie is too invested in its twist and its simplicity. Allowing Loki the time and space to be this complicated would steal the entire show from his simpler, genuine brother, and because the movie itself wanted to be simple and straightforward, there wasn't room to hold the layers of its complicated villain. No wonder the Tumblr girlies went wild for him.

The Ensemble: Weak romantic lead with an A+ comic sidekick, hobbled by needing to run two casts at once.

I think this is where we really see Thor suffer from the problem of having to establish two casts at the same time. The New Mexico side of the equation, Jane and Selvig and Darcy, simply doesn't get time for character development. We know next to nothing about Jane, except that she cares about her research and once dated a doctor. Why this research? How did she get into it? How long has she been in New Mexico? What university does she even work for??? It's true that we don't get a lot of details about, say, Pepper's backstory, but it doesn't matter because we understand from the very beginning how she fits into her life and also Tony's life. Jane is a brief three-day whirlwind in Thor's existence, and that's not enough time for him or us to understand who she is or why we should love her. It feels like the movie went through the motions of having a Lady Love Interest, and it doesn't work out great.

Darcy and Selvig actually fare better, simply because there's less need for them to be more than they are. All we know about Darcy is that she's a polisci major who's working a summer internship way outside of her field, but we don't need to know more -- she's there to be fucking hilarious and indeed she is. Selvig is there to help facilitate Jane's choices and Thor's emotional development, and he does his job well.

The Asgardians have a similar problem. Thor's four friends are basically interchangeable (Sif's only notable distinction being that she's a girl). Thor's mom...shows up? We get the impression that there's more going on with Odin than we've seen, but I wonder if some of that is just me remembering Ragnarok -- either way, given that Odin is literally in a coma for 3/4 of this movie, it doesn't mean much. Heimdall probably has more characterization than anyone else in Asgard other than Loki, and that is...not a lot.

It's a lot of just not very much, across the board.

The Franchise: We're already seeing the formula start to get built and tested in the moviemaking labs.

It's fascinating watching Thor on screen directly after two back-to-back movies of Tony Stark, because Thor has some of Tony's same growth arc with none of his fascinating complexity. On the surface they've got the same vague sketched outline: careless, self-involved privileged prettyboy must learn to think outside himself and care for others to become a hero. Thor takes that plotline in a very different direction, which means the movie doesn't feel same-y, but a more cynical viewer might wish to speculate about what boardroom or producer's office suggested that the writing team follow that.

I think Thor actually does better about wasting time trying to set up the future of the franchise. We don't spend a ton of time on Coulson and Hawkeye here -- if we watched this movie with no idea who they were or that they were here to set up anything at all, they'd function fine as Generic Government People (with an inexplicable thing for archery). I think the place where the setting-up hits worst, actually, might be with Loki: he needs to be complex and sympathetic enough to be interesting as the main villain of Avengers, but we can't resolve anything about him before that. (Not sure how far they'd planned the plot of Avengers at this point in the production run, but I wouldn't be surprised if they'd already called him as their bad guy.)

Thinking about the big thematic MCU premise of a superhero world without secret identities -- the choice of Thor as our next hero in the franchise, somebody who neither has nor needed a secret identity to begin with, is clever there. They're not going back on the freedom from overworked secret identity bullshit that they've promised, but they're also not stuck making a second movie about the lack of them, which would just end up looking like a retread of IM2. The secrets we do find here are all kept by SHIELD, which is clearly trying to keep superhero stuff in, and just as clearly is not managing it. (Loki also has a secret identity, with his discovery of his Jotunn heritage...hmm, much to think about there for the future.)

We pretty much lose all themes around the military-industrial complex here, and the movie is probably the better for it, considering what a hash IM2 made of the subject.

VERDICT: A breezy, light 6/10

Thor is in every respect a perfectly fine movie. It's simple, it's straightforward, it manages to do a bunch of things and establish a brand new fantasy setting without actually putting much depth into any of them.

I suspect that, as I get further on in this franchise, 'perfectly fine and no great flaws' is going to be the verdict on a lot of these movies, and I'm going to start dropping my number rating lower and lower every time something shows up that's simply fine. For now, with the context of only IM1 and 2, 'does light summer adventure flick competently with some sincerity and doesn't fuck it up' feels like an improvement over IM2's messiness, so that's where I'm rating it.

Except for the sound design. Anyone who thinks their battle sequences need sound effects roughly 800% of a standard dialogue scene should be forced to watch their own movies with the sound on a pair of unremovable headphones set to a flat however-loud-it-needs-to-be-to-hear-people-talking. Perhaps, after the deafness ensues, they will change fucking careers.

[booksandabeer]

Stucky Recs: Road Trips!

Well, well, well. Look at that! After only three months of constant whining about having no time to do it, I've finally managed to put together a new rec list! Yay.

The theme of this list was requested by multiple people and really, who doesn't love a good road trip story, right? And let me tell you, there are so many good ones, this post could've been twice as long. I'm actually already hoarding fics in my little folder to do a part two later this year.

But for now, please enjoy my effusive ramblings about the following 10 Road Trip fics + 1 Rail Trip fic:

🚗 you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all by biblionerd07 | T, 15K

Author's summary: Steve and Bucky aren't really much of a Steve and Bucky anymore these days. Steve's sure it's because Bucky doesn't see himself as the same guy who used to love Steve. In a desperate attempt to prove him wrong, Steve begs Bucky to go on a road trip together, the way they used to dream about, and does his best to remind Bucky of who he is.

A post-CW canon divergent fic that's in a lot of ways very soft, but with just enough of an edge to keep things interesting and the reader uncertain as to how everything will play out in it. This starts with a somewhat disaffected Bucky who has not (yet) regained all of his memories and a Steve who, in his desperation to reconnect with him, tries so hard but ends up saying and doing all the wrong things. As they travel around the country, they both find ways to let go and to unlearn and relearn each other. Features moments of heart melting yet tongue-in-cheek sappiness (so the absolute best kind of sappiness) and a fun background Sam/T'Challa pairing.

🚗 a black sky prickled with small lights by emilywithoutY | M, 26K

Author's summary: There's this: The July heat. A wide open road. An obnoxious country song on the radio. Bucky in the driver’s seat.

Or: Two hundred-year-old men and their Great American Road Trip

The ultimate, unashamed Steve-and-Bucky-visit-the-Grand-Canyon wish-fulfillment fantasy—and I mean that in the best possible way. The summer road trip vibes are impeccable. This is technically the third part in the Litanies series, but it absolutely works as a standalone. However, if you ask me whether you should read the entire series, the answer is obviously a resounding yes. It's not only one of the best EG-Fix-Its I've read but also comes with an additional fun and sexy twist on how to get these two to finally get their heads out of their asses. Anyway, in this installment, they have already done that and now they get to enjoy the road, their freedom, and most of all, each other. Includes: healing along the way, long overdue conversations, and the attempt to reconcile the joy of finally having all that time with the bittersweet reality of having all that time.

🚗 Blue Moon by what_alchemy | E, 15K

Author's summary: "Now are you gonna run away with me or not, Rogers?”

God, this story (this author, really)! I’ve read this fic so many times I’ve lost count. It features one of my favorite post-WS characterizations of Bucky. One where he's still—somehow after everything—a romantic at heart, but also clear-eyed and unsentimental enough about certain things to not shy away from laying out some uncomfortable truths for Steve and the reader alike (there’s one line in particular that is seared into my brain and every time I read it I personally feel so called out). Steve may be a bit more cautious and softer about it, but oh, he gives back just as good. Nobody is handling anyone with kid gloves here. A story about learning how to be together (again), defining one's very own version of 'Happy Ever After', and about being very much in love, and also very horny for each other.

🚗 Not Language but a Map (The Grammar of Sensation) by dorian_burberrycanary | E, 20K

Author's summary: Steve has never felt right running away from a fight, even if the fight is with unanswered questions. But it’s not running if it’s a road trip and the oldest, thorniest unanswered question is along for the ride.

If you follow my blog you will probably already know that I am head over heels in love with this entire EG-Fix-It Series. This third story is finished, but Steve & Bucky's road trip continues in part 4, which is currently being posted (updates weekly). I believe this fic can be read as a standalone but, really, why would you deprive yourself of even a single word of this absolutely magnificent series? Every word, every detail, every narrative choice feels deliberate and well thought out. It's a masterclass in subtle storytelling and yet so rich in its themes, characterizations and descriptions of people, places, and food. This fic will make you hungry in so many different ways. A lot happens between the lines which may require some patience at times, but when the emotional payoff hits—it really, really hits. I cannot recommend this enough. Spectacular all around.

🚗 where the days are longer by endofadream | E, 13K

Author's summary: And maybe that’s what they’re running from. Those ghosts. That minefield. The suffocating pressure to live up to who they used to be when who they used to be has now become stale, recycled words in textbooks and museums and clickbait online articles.

They fuck off to the coast, trying to put as many miles between them and D.C. as possible. New York is loud and claustrophobic at the best of times, but California has the open skies and roads that make Steve ease a little more into his skin.

I have such an immense fondness for this story. There are some very minor problems with shifting POV in the first chapter, but please don't let this deter you from giving this story a chance—it's got so much heart. This is a slow and meandering piece that can be best summed up as: Steve and Bucky being so very much in love. Set in some undefined period post-CATWS, in a world where the events of Civil War never happened, Steve and Bucky decide they’re tired of fighting and conforming to what everyone else wants them to be and just get in a car and drive all the way to California. There, they start figuring out how to live in the future while also accepting that they can never quite leave the past behind, and that time, indifferent to the tragedies of (not quite) mortal men, will inevitably keep marching on—whether they want it to or not. To quote directly from the story itself: They’re both men out of time, so they make their own.

🚗 Lightning in a Bottle by odetteandodile | E, 63K

Author's summary: The problem, Steve thinks, isn’t so much his motorcycle giving up the ghost on a lonely stretch of highway through a lonely stretch of the country. He doesn’t mind stretching his legs or the prospect of hitchhiking.The problem is the roiling black blanket of storm clouds slowly spreading itself over the landscape headed his direction…

Steve Rogers is looking to hitch on a highway abandoned by everyone smart enough to avoid a looming storm. Bucky Barnes is the professional storm chaser who offers him a ride. It gets more complicated from there. 

This AU offers an intriguing twist on the The Road Trip as a genre, Shrunkyclunks as a trope, and modern!Bucky as a character—it's an electric ride from start to finish—in more ways than one… *wiggles eyebrows* ...yeah ok, I’ll see myself out. It was either this or something about 'chasing all kinds of storms together' and I just couldn’t resist. Anyway, this story is a clever and unique take on canon events (not just limited to the CA movies!) and I don’t really want to give too much away and spoil all the fun, so I’ll just say this: If you are in the mood for a thrilling sci-fi/adventure/romance hybrid-story with beautiful evocative writing, characters that actually act like the smart, competent grown-ups they supposedly are, sex scenes that are both hot and emotional, and a touch of spy/mission fic to go along with a free crash course in weather phenomena—this is the fic for you!  

🚗 The Only Familiar Thing by brideofquiet | E, 39K

Author's summary: Steve takes a breath, steels himself, and asks, “Where are we going, Buck?”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You’re the one driving, Steve.”

And before Steve can protest, Bucky gives him that broad, toothy grin again. The worry pitted in his stomach ebbs, and he decides—what the hell? Why not? Steve pulls his helmet on and swings a leg over the bike. Bucky settles in behind him, and he cranks the engine to life.

A Post-CATWS fic, in which Bucky has returned to Steve after being on the run for a while. They are together, share an apartment in Brooklyn, and Bucky has regained most of his memories—so yay! All good, right? Well, things are going…uh...let's say they're going. See, Steve and Bucky are still very much in love—the thing is, they're pretty good at the being in love part but pretty awful at the talking about it (and everything else that matters) part. So much so that they accidentally on purpose non-communicate and out-stubborn each other into going on a road trip, where things will eventually—inevitably—come to a head. Throughout the trip, the tension between them builds and builds until finally they have to admit that sometimes being partners, lovers, best friends, and knowing someone better than anybody else in the world, still doesn't mean that you can *actually* read their mind. Sometimes you gotta use your words. The author skillfully manages to create a story that treats its characters and their conflict seriously, while also infusing it with a healthy dose of humor and romance to always keep the readers on the right side of 'frustrated' (i. e. invested, not irritated).

🚗 old college try by kafkian | E, 19K

Author's summary: Bucky wonders if it’ll ever stop feeling like stealing: Steve Rogers, Captain America, the hope of a nation tucked into Bucky’s right hand. It’s the heist of the century.

In which Bucky Barnes remembers himself, Steve, and what it means to be selfish – not necessarily in that order.

Another old favorite of mine. Set post-CACW, this fic starts with a recently defrosted Bucky and a somewhat unmoored Steve in Wakanda, as they try to figure out what to do next: Keep fighting the never-ending wars of other people or run away, see the world, and retire to a quiet life? Well, since this is a road trip fic, I think you can guess which option they go for. It's a beautifully written story about Steve and Bucky's journey across continents and decades, and their ultimate arrival in a life that they never dared to hope they could have one day. This was written in 2016, so right between the fanfic avalanche caused by TWS and the frenzy of EG-Fix-Its. Re-reading this for the first time in quite a while made me realize that—aside from being a fantastic story in its own right—it's also an interesting commentary on popular Stucky fics that came before it (you can see clear influences but also some gentle rebuttals to popular fanon of the time) as well as very much a product of its time. And I don't mean that in a negative or disrespectful way at all, but simply, that it also serves as a fandom artifact; a text that reveals and reacts to certain trends, shifting attitudes, and developments in Stucky fanfiction over the years. Either way it's definitely well worth a read.

🚗 The Long Way: A Stucky Fancomic by BeaArthurPendragon, LittleWolf82 | T

Authors' summary: After Thanos is defeated, Steve doesn't stay in the past. This is the story of where he and Bucky go next.

A little something different here: a road trip fancomic! And oh, it's only one of my favorite fic writers teaming up with one of my favorite artists—what's not to love? This is an EG-Fix-It that simply ignores the last five minutes that Ruined It All and instead tells the story of what could've or should've happened to Steve and Bucky after EG. A story that is infinitely kinder and truer to these characters. Sweetly told and beautifully drawn—an absolutely wonderful collaboration.

🚗 i need a forest fire by tomorrowsrain | T, 65K

Author's summary: In which Tony Stark makes a reckless decision, becomes a wanted fugitive, goes on the run with the former Winter Soldier, and learns how to forgive. For his part, Bucky Barnes is just trying to hold himself together. AU, post-Civil War.

This is the only fic on this rec list that does not have Bucky and Steve going on a journey but instead it's Bucky and...Tony. WAIT! Hey, come back! I know that for a lot of Steve and/or Bucky fans the idea of reading a 65K fic that heavily features Tony Stark does not really sound like an enticing prospect. BUT! Hear me out. This is a fic that runs with one of the core concepts of fix-it fanfiction, which is: What if these characters actually talked to each other for a change? And yes, it gets messy and complicated and often painful—nothing is glossed over and no one is let off the hook easy. What you get here is a fantastically written story that is simultaneously an intimate & slow character study of both Bucky and Tony, a grand sweeping road trip fic with a thrilling plot that will have you on the edge of your seat (there is a moment in this where I really thought it was all over), AND a decade spanning tale of epic love. If you're worried that there is too little Stucky or Steve in this, don't be. Even before he shows up around the halfway mark of the fic, Steve is very much present the entire time. It's incredible what the author pulls off here. This is one of my all-time favorite fics. I love it a totally not normal amount.

🚂 Will There be Any Freight Trains in Heaven? by phoenixflight | E, 56K

Author's summary: It's summer of 1934, a quarter of all Americans are unemployed, and record numbers of migrant workers are hopping freight trains to seek their fortune out west. What are two boys from Brooklyn to do?

Or, Steve and Bucky ride the rails, become socialists, and fall in love, in no particular order.

This story is a bit of an outlier on this list because not only is it the only fic that's set in the pre-war period, it's also not strictly a road trip fic, but a rail trip fic. Usually the road trips in these stories are either (1) a last ditch effort at saving a friendship/relationship, (2) a way of finding oneself and/or making peace with one's past, or (3) the 'we survived all this and here we are together in the future, so let's go and actually see some of that world we fought so hard to save' victory lap. The impetus for travel in this fic, however, is born out of sheer necessity. It's the height of the Great Depression and Steve and Bucky are really poor and really desperate—so desperate even that they're willing to leave behind Brooklyn, their families, and their lives as they know it to go look for work in the West. This is not a fic that's always easy to read, circumstances are dire, attitudes are, ahem, authentic to the period, and the nostalgia-tinted glasses about the good old days before the war will get firmly knocked off your face. It's also a story that will show you time and time again that sometimes you will find kindness, love and almost overwhelming humanity in the places you least expect it. And listen, if period accuracy and a very political Steve Rogers do not convince you, let me tell you that there's also a lot of pining in this. So. Much. Pining.

Ok. This was fun.

Next up: Short fics under 10K

[licorice-tea]

I’m A Ghost Of You, You’re A Ghost Of Me Pt. 2

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader, platonic Straw Hat Pirates & reader

Content: slow burn, canon typical violence (nobody actually gets hurt), throwing darts (just for fun), mentions of a g*n (no shooting), reader shoots an arrow from a bow (no one is harmed), reader has special skills typical of a one piece character, bars, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This one is kind of long and there isn’t much reader x zoro in it, we’re still building up to that lol. There is a mention of him and his relationship to the reader at the end of this chapter though! Oh, and since Usopp is a sniper, but so is y/n (just different weapons) I’ve made it so Usopp’s thing/weapon of choice is his inventions instead! It won’t change the story much at all, but I didn’t want to make it so there are 2 people with the same fighting style on the crew once the reader joins. One last thing- this takes place after the crew has taken down Arlong Park- their next destination is Reverse Mountain, but they just so happened to meet the reader on an island first.

Part 1 • Part 3

Monkey D. Luffy had charmed you from the moment you met him- and vice versa. The two of you, though you had very different backgrounds and aspirations, were both young, free souls with big dreams. He had just begun assembling his crew that would ultimately help him achieve his goal of becoming King of the Pirates. So far, the future king had recruited a swordsman and a navigator. Or at least, that’s what he told you when he found you; in a bar on one of the smaller islands of the East Blue.

It was a quiet day, and the bar was empty save for you and the bartender. You weren’t much of a drinker, but the heat was intense and the bar offered shade and a place to relax. So while the few patrons of the bar drank, you took to playing darts. Alone.

You hold the dart in your right hand with your left arm outstretched as if to focus your aim; poised to throw. Then after a few back and forth movements of your hand- as if to determine the path the dart would take once you let it go- you exhale softly and do just that. The dart flies in a near straight line, only falling slightly at the end of its arc to hit the dead center of the dart board.

With a small smile you hum to yourself and pick up another dart from a box nearby. You don’t even really aim this time though, just steady your hand and repeat those back and forth motions before throwing. This time, you use more force, and the second dart splits the first.

One of the few others in the bar, a tall and burly man in a marine uniform, approaches you after the 4th dart has split 3 others. He puts an arm on your shoulder, and gives you a scrutinizing sort of look as he sizes you up.

“You shoot, kid?”

“Yeah, a bow.”

“Ever thought about being a marine?”

You shrug off his hand, “No, thank you.”

He steps closer, “Oh, so you think you’re too good for us? Wont take orders cause you’re the best, right?” You can smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Sure, something like that.” You respond sarcastically while taking a step back. You’re not one to go looking for a fight, but he’s clearly trying to challenge or test you. Sigh, marines and their pride.

He huffs, then turns to leave and spits in the spittoon by the bar doors. The marine looks back over his shoulder and points at you. “Meet me outside when you’re ready to put your money where your mouth is, kid.”

You simply roll your eyes and take a seat at the bar, as you’re no longer in the mood for playing darts. The bartend comes around to your side to take your order.

“A shirley temple, please.”

He gives you a deadpan look, and when you don’t quirk a smile or admit to it being a joke, he full on laughs at you.

“You’re gonna run from that marine on nothing but a shirley temple, huh kid?”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s still waiting for you outside, no doubt about it. I hope you’re fast.”

You frown and rest your head in your chin, thinking of how you were going to get out of this mess.

Sometime between your confrontation with the drunk marine and your conversation with the bartend, a new group came in. You hadn’t noticed earlier, but you did now as they were clearly watching you. They must have been listening to everything go down, too, based on their expressions.

The bartend leaves your end to go take this new groups orders before eventually coming back to make your drink.

“…I’m not running from anything.” is the answer you settle on as he slides you the bright red shirley temple.

“Sure thing.”

You pull out a few berries from your pocket, but before you can slide them over he waves you off.

The bartend nods his chin to the new group of people, who you realize are still not so subtly staring and talking about you. “Those guys paid for your drink.”

They sure are an interesting bunch. There’s a boy with a straw hat, a girl with orange hair, one man with curly brows and another with a long nose. And they’re just looking at you, mostly (with the exception of the blonde with curly eyebrows, who is giggling with literal hearts in his eyes.)

You nod to the group as a way of saying “thanks”, but you’re not sure if you should approach them… Fortunately, the boy with the straw hat makes that decision for you when he gets up and comes to stand by you.

“Hey!”

“Hi?” You offer a friendly smile, but it’s nothing compared to his huge grin.

“My name is Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m gonna be King of The Pirates!”

All you do is hum in acceptance of his grand statement, “Well, I’m l/n y/n.” You extend a hand to shake, “Nice to meet you.”

“You’ve gotta go fight that marine!” the boy exclaims. He holds his hands in fists, completely ignoring your handshake in favor of making punching motions.

“I- No, I can’t.”

“Why not? You can beat him- I saw you throwing darts!”

“Well, sure, but I don’t want my bounty going up or anything… I’m not looking for trouble, really.” You laugh nervously.

“Psh! He insulted your bravery! And having a bounty is coo-“ He’s cut off by the girl with orange hair who slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry about him. I’m Nami… and you’re some kind of sharpshooter, right?”

You nod as you look between the two of them, then at the rest of their friends who were sitting on the other end of the bar but are now also making their way over.

“Well, y/n was it? I think what Luffy was trying to say-“ she then glares at Luffy, “before he almost outed us as pirates when a marine is outside- is that he’d really like to see more of what you can do.”

“Um… why? I’m not trying to be rude or anything, I just-“

“I want you to join my crew!”

You blink, shocked. “And why would you need me?” you say with a somewhat surprised laugh.

“I want a sharpshooter on my crew, and you have the best aim I’ve ever seen!” He says everything with such excitement, and you like it.

“Really? I’m a good shot, I don’t know about the best…” you giggle. “I’m not even a sharpshooter, I’m a painter; I just do this for fun.”

As you had explained: you didn’t really consider yourself a full blown archer. More like an artist who happened to have a talent for archery, and would use a bow and arrow as a means of protection. It was how you survived; not your dream.

Of course, being an artist whose work is known all throughout the world is a grand and respectable dream all on its own. You knew that- even if others had labeled you foolish or unserious for your passion. Sure, art wasn’t something dangerous that could earn you tons of glory, or even a career with a guarantee of money. But, that didn’t matter to you, because it was what you loved most in life. And, you had become enamored with the idea of beauty for beauty’s sake through many arguments with your parents over the purpose and need for art (beyond being a hobby.) You still doubted yourself occasionally, but the backlash somehow made it easier to believe in yourself when your confidence ran low.

That was over a year ago now, and you’d been making a name for yourself as a painter. You liked to travel between islands to find inspiration in a variety of places and people, but you got by just fine with the berries from selling your work. It was nice, having the freedom to do what you loved most… but this was your chance to follow your dream to someday be a master of the arts. And you felt in some odd way, that this small crew led by a boy no older than yourself; they were a part of that future.

“Ohhh, so that’s your dream then? Perfect! All of the Straw Hat Pirates have dreams!”

“The Straw Hat Pirates? So, you’re the captain then?” You can’t help but smile up at the boy with the Straw Hat. And it makes close to no sense at all, but you have a really good feeling about him- about all of them.

“Yep! Join us, cmon!”

“I… Um…” It’s not like you were really tied down at all. And how often did you meet people like these, who made you feel safe and appreciated even though you had just met?

Well, you did remember one time. But that was over a year ago, and you hadn’t heard from him since.

Nami shakes her head at Luffy once again, “Give them some time to think, would you! Not everyone can just run off with a pirate crew.”

Then, one of the other two crew members who had joined in on the conversation speaks up. “So… are you going to go fight that marine?” says the man with the long nose. “Oh, I’m Usopp by the way.” He gives a friendly wave.

The blonde responds for you; “They don’t have to do anything they don’t want to.” His eyes return from Usopp to you, and the hearts seem to reappear. “And I’m Sanji, it’s really a pleasure to meet you!” He takes one of your hands and shakes it with both of his.

You giggle and shake your head. “No, it’s ok.” You drain the last bit of your shirley temple, then stand up from your barstool. “I’ll do it.”

There are mixed reactions after the initial surprise from the whole crew- minus Luffy, he seems like he knew you would. But once the rest lose their shocked expressions Nami and Usopp both try to talk you out of it while Sanji cheers you on. Luffy simply crosses his arms and nods with a grin, and they all follow you out of the bar.

“But- but wait! You really don’t have to, this will just cause trouble!” Usopp tries to reason with you.

You shake your head, “It’s ok, he’s probably not even here anymore.”

And sure enough when you walk out onto the street, it’s nearly empty. No marines in sight- until you hear him.

“Hey, kid!” The voice comes from further down the street behind you, and you and all the Straw Hat Pirates turn to see who it belong to. Sure enough, there’s the marine- he seems to have sobered up a little, or enough that he’s not slurring his words or stumbling anymore.

As if this were some old western movie, you rest a hand on the bow slung over your shoulder. “Nevermind then. Can you give me a little space guys?” The Straw Hats back away and watch as the marine hurries toward you, stopping about 10 paces away.

“Here to defend your honor, huh?”

“No, that’s silly. I’m here because you interrupted my game of darts.”

He scowls and draws his own weapon- a standard marine issued firearm, by the looks of it.

Before he can even load it or cock it or- whatever they do with guns, how would you know? You draw your bow and knock back a single arrow, but with great force. It hits the barrel of the gun, fully bending it away from the direction your arrow hit it.

The marine, the Straw Hats, and even yourself (though you felt too confident to look surprised) were shocked. For a single arrow to dent the barrel of a gun? Well, you must be one hell of an archer. Yet it was “just a hobby” as you told your new crewmates, and so they were all excited to see the prowess you would exemplify over your actual dream.

He takes two cautionary steps backwards first, then the marine turns and full on sprints away. The Straw Hats all laugh, cheer, and pat you on the back while asking how in the world you did that. You weren’t entirely sure yourself, but were still content with the outcome of the day.

“So now you’ll be part of my crew, right?”

“Yes!” You laugh, “I’d love to.”

You explain to your new crew, or nakama as Luffy calls you, that you just have to go get your bag from the inn you’re currently staying in. The five of you meet back at the docks of the island just a few minutes before sunset, and they show you to their boat; the Going Merry.

But before any of you can begin to board the vessel, Luffy stops and exclaims, “Aw man, where’s Zoro?”

You whip your head around to face Luffy. Did he say Zoro? As in, Roronoa Zoro- the bounty hunter who’d led you get away a year ago to follow your dream? The man you still felt you owed your future to, for what he had done for you…

“Probably lost. Again.” Usopp sighs.

“Sorry, did you say Zoro?”

“Yep, he’s our swordsman!”

You have no words, so you just hum in response. What were the chances of joining the same crew as your… savior? Ally? Friend? The definition of your relationship was not at all set in stone, so you can only rely on what is tangible for now; the growing smile on your lips, and the faster beating of your heart.

Maybe you would get the chance to repay him after all.

[c-rowlesdraws]

final very superficial appraisal of the live action one piece show:

👍:

-the set design was wonderful and had a cool sense of unreality to it (as in, the environments feel like built sets and it’s part of the fun), it was colorful and theatrical and captured the manga’s blend of piratey genre aesthetics (wooden boards, sailing ships, rolled-up old maps) and “modern” elements like t-shirts and neon signs in a really pleasing way

-the show clicks to the top of the first rollercoaster hill at the end of episode 3 and then goes at the start of ep 4 and it’s just one breathless ride to the finish. I didn’t want the show to end. I do not care about one piece and started watching kind of for the bit but now I’ll actually be really upset if it doesn’t get a second season. That’s how good the second half of this show is.

-I love how all of the characters with colorful hair have clearly-dyed hair where their roots are showing (as opposed to wigs), and in flashbacks to a few of them as children the child actors have the exact same sort of imperfect dye job. It’s wonderful. It adds to the theatrical energy of everything, like “we know you know this is artificial, but we trust you to suspend your disbelief and enjoy this fiction with us”.

-with very few exceptions, all of the actors’ performances are great. They are all cool and fun to watch and there are lots of sweet and funny and emotional moments that work because the writing is sincere. Nobody rolls their eyes for the audience’s benefit at how weeeeird their world is— they live here! I love that.

-the trap beat they did for Arlong’s theme music rules

-this story with its global ocean and seafaring/island-based societies is kind of like “what if Waterworld was like a big colorful carnival” and I love that

-the Snail Phones 🐌

Things I liked less below the cut - 👎:

-Zoro’s backstory bff being depressed because “a girl can beat a boy, but no woman can beat a man [in a swordfight]” was a disappointing line to hear two characters just… play straight in a world that up to that point had seemed pretty non-sexist? But this girl sincerely believes that, and this boy doesn’t push back at all. In this world of self-dismembering clowns and people with axes for arms, you’re telling me that there are no champion swordswomen for little kids to admire? Not one?? From skimming the wiki, it seems like in the manga Kuina’s views are influenced by her sexiest dad, but the show doesn’t include that context.

-Kuina dying offscreen in “an accident” was the only tragic thing in the show that didn’t land for me. It’s just so blatant and funny. You’ve got to get rid of her so she can motivate Zoro, because she’s dead in the manga and that’s how you motivate male main characters, with dead women, but… how? Doesn’t matter! There’s been an accident. Typical backstory girl bff behavior. Call that Fridge To Terabithia.

-Iñaki’s energy as Luffy didn’t always work for me. Some character behavior works in manga and anime, but seems awkward and jarring in real life. It’s very difficult to pull off wild limb-flailing anime exuberance in live-action— live-action Cowboy Bebop’s glimpse of Ed comes to mind. But also, I never really liked Luffy in the parts of the manga I read, either, so maybe I’m just not the target audience for a Luffy in any medium. Iñaki seems like a friendly and chill dude and he certainly gave this role 100%— and also Oda himself loved him for the role, so that says a lot.

-the whole thing with Arlong and his Fishman crew where they’re part of an oppressed and formerly-enslaved minority, so of course they have beef with humans (“but slavery’s been abolished!” shouts a human character), but they’re taking things too far and not just fighting for equality, but domination, which includes extorting, killing, and enslaving humans, starting with this poor little girl here. And since this group are clearly evil and have these big evil plans, it’s cool and great actually for the heroes, who are all humans/members of the majority, to kick their asses and kill a bunch of them. Like… I get there’s a whole thing here with Arlong being twisted by hatred into the very thing he says hates, and maybe we’ll meet more Fishmen later in the story who are just people and not bloodthirsty evildoers, but it’s not a great fictional look?

It takes me back to hbomberguy’s critique of RWBY’s portrayal of the Faunus, and the problems with making your bad guys out of an oppressed ethnic group who, the story says, might have a point, if they went about things peacefully, but are just taking things too far with this domestic terrorism stuff. The Faunus and Arlong should really be writing to their congresspeople instead!

[songoftrillium]

Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my actions before me. 

I am delighted to announce that Dead Mountain's release, initially slated for Halloween 2023, has been delayed!!! 

Wait, what?

This post is enormous, but please take the time to read it. Likes don’t increase visibility to others! Please reblog this to spread the word! 

When I started this project, my stance on Werewolf: the Apocalypse underwent a series of evolutions between then and now. In short, Dead Mountain, a chronicle meant to simultaneously provide a game module and queer inclusivity at gaming tables, has grown beyond its original design and size and into something much bigger and bolder than what I initially set out to do. It has become a more significant task than one person can accomplish alone. Of course, I could delay Dead Mountain's release a few months to get it completed, and I will still be releasing it standalone eventually.  I could also put it out, but what would come out would fall short of presenting Werewolf in a way I feel does the game justice.

In many ways, nothing changes; it just happens later. In its current form, however, Werewolf: the Apocalypse doesn’t provide a game that fully supports the scale and inclusivity this chronicle demands. The project rapidly ballooned the chronicle into something more resembling a corebook; while fun to imagine, it is more than I initially set out to accomplish. The volume of literature needing redrafts and the need for this to be a single chronicle alone are at odds with each other, and more than one person can write independently.

I plan to reapproach this in a way that has the team excited, and I think this will excite you, too. See the rest below the cut.

As work on Dead Mountain progressed and drew closer to completion, the things I needed to include to make it happen in a way that did its subject matter justice grew beyond its original scope. The more aspects of inclusivity, culture, and story that turned up missing from the newest edition out of the occasional paragraph, the more I came to realize that if I wanted Werewolf: the Apocalypse to represent what good I see in it, I needed to also make the game itself presented in a fundamentally different way than it has before. 

I have a challenge to World of Darkness writers: 

New players should only have to read for no longer than an hour to start coming up with character concepts. 

Every Werewolf corebook put to print is falling short of that goal. It would be unjust to force players to wade through the old literature to explore all the game has to offer, and I think y’all deserve better. The tribes they read about should focus less on everything wrong with them out of the starting gates and provide players and storytellers with something worth fighting for and motivates them to action.

Over the past few weeks, we have realized that the things we need to include to do justice to the subject matter of Dead Mountain have grown beyond the project's original scope. We want to ensure the game is inclusive, culturally representative, and accessible to new players. Given the available core literature released with the latest edition lacking coherent structuring, our writing has had to balloon beyond a typical RPG supplement size to provide a functional game representative of, and relevant to, queer culture. Therefore, we have decided to delay the game's release by one year to Halloween 2024. This extra time will allow us to create a game that meets our high standards and provides an enriching experience for all players, and make Werewolf: the Apocalypse a more accessible game, particularly regarding accessibility to new players and storytellers. 

My goal is simple: Nobody new to the World of Darkness and Werewolf with an 8th-grade reading comprehension level should do more than an hour’s reading (10,000 words) to comprehend Werewolf: the Apocalypse well enough to start thinking up character concepts. New players shouldn’t have to wade into problematic legacy literature to get the specifics of Garou society or to seek cultural representation. Storytellers should have guidelines on creating chronicles with their players and interlinking them with stories. 

A series of players guides and storyteller handbooks intended to streamline the flow of information to the reader, sorted by Garou ranks, both in terms of gaming power levels and depth of information relevant to Garou of that rank. New players want to know how to make new characters. Storytellers wish to know the kinds of NPCs appropriate to characters of that power and how to run games. This is not a corebook but a series of reference guides intended to keep the depth of the world we all love in the legacy game in an easily navigated format while only revealing the most pertinent information for a given Garou’s rank and a ready-to-go adventure to pair with that game ranking. With each successive release, more information about the world of the Garou, Garou society, their enemies, and the complexity of available storytelling tools will also evolve to grow the game in tandem with players and storytellers.

Book 1: Cliath — Contains enough information for new players and storytellers to get started, focusing on character generation, Rites of Passage, and culture.

Book 2: Fostern — Expanded Garou powers for the ‘citizenry and society (and not-so-nice things that happen in the background that they keep hidden from the cubs and cliath) of the Garou. 

Books 3: Adren — Explodes into an anthology of Tribebooks with expanded powers and tribal customs and detailed septs, camps, and factions vital for any Adren fighting for Gaia.

Book 4: Athro — exploration of spirit and history. The secrets that bind society and a more lucid view of what elders in the Garou Nation face, with expanded Garou stats covering both rank 4 and 5.

Book 5: Elder — The Storytellers guide, focusing on world-building and running one's own chronicles in the World of Darkness.This puts all prior ST info in one place with a master index and any extra systems errata needed.

Our small team consists of seasoned storytellers, writers, and werewolf academics working on making Werewolf more accessible to new players. We’ve been researching, playing, or running inclusive Werewolf tables for over 60 years combined, and are self-taught experts in everything Werewolf. Everyone on this project deeply loves the game and sees its inherent value and well-meaning beneath its 90s liberal veneer. Many of us have spent decades perfecting our craft and knowledge of this game, and we want the rest of you to see the Werewolf that we see in the pages.

We are using By Night Studios' edition of Mind’s Eye Theater: Werewolf as a baseline reference for this project. Much work has already been done to bring inclusivity to the game and encourage character investment in the world, and translating that to the tabletop will be a more inclusive baseline to utilize than any other corebook. We will continue the metaplot of Werewolf: the Apocalypse, with a handful of changes to tribes and factions of Garou. Due to the MET systems translations needing to be done, we still have our work cut out for us and plenty of writing to do. This game will be shifting the formatting to prioritize ease of identifying information pertinent to players versus storytellers while prioritizing keeping culture, mechanics, or cross-edition compatibility as best we can with updated sensibilities.

Stay tuned for another post this afternoon to learn more about our first upcoming book in the series!

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

The Blue Eyed Bandit

When a wanna-be cowboy rides in all the way from Tennessee, he’s laughed out of town, but Y/N can see something in him that others can’t, especially when their town becomes the target of ruthless gang of bandits.

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader

(Cowboy!Au, Angst, Fluff)

5.9k Words

Warnings: Extremely suggestive content, prostitution, flirting, drinking, bar fights, guns, stalking, blood, wound care, knives, makeouts, hickeys, description of injury, gun sucking, degredation, groping, (attempted) kidnapping

An: I’ve wanted to write a story about Johnny as a cowboy for a while XD This was inspired by a lot of things, but especially the Mexico episode of Viva la Bam! I specificly wrote this story to be set in the ‘1850s, though it’s not explicitly stated. I did more research for this fic than any other I’ve written before, on topics from wound care to desert fruits and breeds of horses! It was super fun to write so please let me know if you would be interested in something similar to this in the future!!

You were lucky. It’s odd to say that working as a prostitute in a parlor house would be the luckier of any number of options, but it was. Leaning against the dry, rotting wooden post that held up the roofed porch of Madame Evette’s Gentleman Parlor, your current place of board and employment, you rolled this idea of luck around your mind. There’s always worse options, like that brothel up the road that had half its staff wiped out in the last smallpox outbreak. Working here, you always had a hot meal, warm baths, proper living quarters, health insurance, and much more reputable clients. In fact, you had started to get familiar with your regulars because nobody new ever seemed to come there. Looking out at the high, sandy bluffs that framed the desolate, arid New Mexico landscape, you realized that this was a town that new people didn't want to come to, but whose citizens seemed to want to leave by any means.

Lost in thought, you hardly noticed when a man walked up to the creaky railing you were leaning against until he tipped his hat at you with a warm, half smile, “Howdy, ma’am.” It shocked you how cordial he acted to you of all people. Still, you met his eyes. “Hi.” You recognized him- one week ago, this wanna-be cowboy from out east rode into here of all places to pursue his wild west fantasy, and he was already the laughingstock of the town. Still, you humored him a little, “What can I do ya for?” While he was a little dorky, you recognized the charming air he had about him that none of your other clients seemed to possess as he made conversation, “Well, I was under the assumption that this is the place for a gentleman like myself to find some company and,” Holding out his palm flat to take yours, he spoke low and with an accent you couldn’t quite place, “I would be delighted to be graced with yours.” Part of you assumed this was some sort of cruel trick he was pulling, treating a woman like you as a common lady, but you gave him your hand anyways.

Just then, the Madame caught sight of this through the window and swiftly came storming outside with a broom, “Keep those dirty paws away from my girls!” The commotion seemed to draw a good deal of attention as some of the girls inside peered out the door in various states of undress to giggle at the spectacle going down on the porch, and then there was you, caught in the middle of all this. “This is a proper establishment! You can take those dusty boots of yours down to the whorehouse across the street!” She chased him out into the streets, and there went the cowboy, ducking down an alleyway, laughing to himself.

You and the rest of the girls spent the evening lounging about the well furnished parlor, drinking wine in your garters and stockings while you entertained tonight’s men. Despite what people may think, your interactions with patrons didn’t start in the bedroom- there’s some drinking and singing and fraternizing one would usually have to get past before the fun stuff started. But the whole time you were chatting up the fat cat town banker while he puffed away at his cigar, you couldn’t help but think back to your interaction with that cowboy from earlier. There was something different in the way he treated you- how he saw you compared to how the rest of the town did. Most of the men you tended to wouldn’t be caught dead in your presence outside of this place, but he felt no shame in the slightest to interact with you. In fact, he seemed to have taken a liking to you. The thought made your chest feel warm.

Then, out of the blue, there was this great commotion outside, loud enough to rattle the crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Oh. This couldn’t be an earthquake- earthquakes aren’t usually accompanied by the whip cracking sounds of gunfire. Oh. This had to be a saloon fight gone bad. You nearly fell to the ground as everyone in the parlor flooded out the front door for a chance to bear witness to this spectacle, and of course you followed shortly behind because while you were a lady, you were never one to miss a good fight. There was always something or other going on in this town, whether it be a shootout or a bank robbery, so most people were sort of desensitized to it at this point. Dashing out onto the dusty streets, all indigo from the night, so many people crowded into the little tavern next door that you would’ve thought the cheap wooden floors would’ve given out from sheer weight. The place was buzzing. You weaseled in, squirming past people. At first, all you could see over the heads of those in front of her was the town bartender Steve, the one with the shaved head, cautiously emerging from where he had ducked behind the counter, all pale under yellow lamplight. The bar in front of him was completely splintered and half of the bottles that sat behind it were shattered, sticky amber liquid draining down the walls and to the floor. The whole thing was pretty damn tragic- you knew Steve, and by extension knew how he had been busting his behind, having practically built this place from the ground up and kept it running with only a couple saloon girls for help. It was his way of fulfilling a passion you always found to be pretty selfless: making people happy. Albeit, it was through alcohol and cheap bar tricks, he still took it seriously, like it was his baby, and in one moment it was destroyed.

As you squirmed closer to the front of the crowd, that’s when you caught it. A blur of mauve then step on a chair, step on a table- crash! A man leapt out of a window with an armful of cash, green bills fluttering in the air with the sparkling shower of glass. Immediately, you recognized him, but anyone in town could with one look at that purple mink duster with the strange heart symbol on the back that hung from his shoulders or with a glance at that face that was just made for wanted posters. But just like that, he disappeared into the night. And there, on the floor at the feet of the people who had front row seats to all this, was the cowboy from earlier, and he did not look good. Well, he looked good, but he looked unwell, especially with the slowly growing red stain on his shirtfront. “My, my, my…you gotta deathwish, boy? Or are you just plain stupid?” A man standing at the front of the crowd glowered down at him like he was horseshit on his shoe, “Ana’body five miles round’d know not to mess with them bandits.” If it wasn't bad enough, he had picked a fight with the leader of the meanest gang of ruffians in the west, this ruthless fellow that went by the name Bam on account of all the chaos he caused wherever he set foot and that subtleness wasn't necessarily his style. Of course he didn’t know what he was getting into, but the bandit king was gone, and everyone had forgotten about the cowboy that was still bleeding on the hardwood, so you ran over to the bar for a wet towel. Still shaken up, Steve handed you the bar cloth he was unconsciously gripping and, as the townspeople filtered out, you went to tend to the man in the ground.

“Whats’re name, cowboy?” It was pity that urged you to help him, surely. As you peeled away the dark cloth that stuck to his skin, his chest rose with heavy breaths. He watched with half lidded eyes as you dabbed away the blood that was steadily trickling from where he was grazed with a bullet, swallowing as your hands ghosted over a faded tattoo of a woman’s name on his chest before he murmured in a voice still hoarse, “Johnny.” Smiling softly, you finished up cleaning his wound, “Well, what you did back there was mighty brave, Johnny.” Now that you got a look at him, you couldn’t deny that he was a pretty well shaped young man. Cracking an exhausted grin, he let out a labored chuckle, still polite despite the circumstances, “Well thank’y, ma’am.” Gazing up at you with those blood loss dazed eyes, Johnny murmured, a little embarrassed, “I’d invite you back to mine, but I don't think it’d be your style, considering. I, uh- I’ve been sleepin’ in the horse stables for the past week…” There was something undeniably endearing about that fact. You helped him to stand as you went to pull yourself up, “Well, what about tomorrow? We could have lunch together.” Stumbling to his feet, Johnny drawled, “That sounds like a fine idea.”

So you dressed up nice that Sunday in a dress you “borrowed” from one of the other girls that worked at the parlor with you- this vibrant pink dress, the color of ripe red pitaya fruit. The usually lively streets of the town were deserted on Sunday mornings, and since you avoided leaving the parlor during the day due to the looks you got on the street, Sundays were the only day you really went out for fresh air. Johnny was already waiting for you in front of the bar, still in the same clothes as yesterday, bloodstains and all. Seeing you fully dressed for the first time in a sort of ‘you clean up well’ moment, he looked you up and down before a smile crept onto his lips, “Why aren’t you at church?” You shrugged, “I ain’t exactly the churchgoing type, and if I was, they don’t take too well to my kind. You?” The two of you began to walk down the dusty streets, the midday sun beating down and warming your skin. Johnny walked in step with you, inching a little closer, “Well, neither am I.”

You ended up at this little oasis up on a hill at the outskirts of town- one of the few green places left in this god forsaken place. Sitting down on the grass under a Blue Jacaranda tree, you set your woven basket that you carried the food in down and you caught Johnny nearly drooling as you opened it. It was all food you found lying around the parlor- fluffy pink and white conchas, warm boiled esquites, and a package of salt pork wrapped in brown paper and twine. Handing him one of the pastries, he tore into it like a starved man. Noticing your surprise at his eagerness, Johnny stopped himself and added bashfully, “Sorry…In- In all truth, ma’am, I’ve been livin’ off’a bar peanuts for the past few days…” It was believable- that cowboy was looking mighty thin. Of course, he went right back to eating.

The two of you talked for a while. He told you all about the mishaps that happened to him on his journey there all the way from Tennessee, a part of the old Southwest territory, and about how before he realized he wanted to move out west to pursue his cowboy dreams, he was a writer for his town’s newspaper. There was no shortage of stories with this man, and you couldn’t complain because he spoke with this vividness to his words that just captivated you. Johnny asked you about what it’s like in your line of work. You told him that you grew up on a farm and came here for a better life, some life that turned out to be. But as long as you had a clean bed to sleep in and warm meals, you’d be pretty content.

“So,” You started after a silence, “How’s that wound healin’ up?” Swallowing what was in his mouth, Johnny loostend the top few buttons of his shirt and pulled the collar to the side over his bicep, exposing the half scabbed over pink flesh. Maybe it was just an excuse to touch his chest, the intimacy made more so that you were leaning over his body as he sat up on his elbows, looking down at you. Fighting back a blush from creeping onto your cheeks, you blinked and met his eyes, “It, uh…doesn’t look infected, no.” As you pulled away, your gaze lingered on his still open shirt, “Is that your woman’s name- on your chest?” Johnny glanced down at the name scrawled on his tan skin, “Nah. S’my daughter’s.” Never in your days could you imagine a man as young as him a father. Still, you couldn’t help but ask, “So she’s waitin’ for you with your lady back home?” Shaking his head, he smiled gently as if remembering something fondly, “Oh, no- my little girl’s all grown up. And my wife,” he wiped some crumbs off of the side of his mouth, his voice falling a little serious, “well, she left me ‘bout a year ago this November.” You asked for an inch and he gave you a mile. At this point, you couldn’t deny that you were interested in him, but you still maintained your stuff demeanor, “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.” Glancing up at the sky, you shielded your eyes with your hand, “S’noon. Church should be letting out soon.”

Conversation was light as you walked back in town and he dropped you off at the parlor like a gentleman. You made a resolution that this would be routine- outcasts like you needed to stick together after all, or at least that was what Johnny said. It was cute, in a way, all this wisdom he had. As the two of you were chatting as you passed an alleyway, you saw something out of the corner of your eyes- this dark figure and a glint of something diamond blue that sent chills down your spine. But when you turned to take a second look, the shadow disappeared.

That next morning, you and some of the other girls were relaxing on the porch in your frilly underclothes and chatting because you had no clients and, in your line of work, that is what you call advertising. Every now and then a man passing by would whistle at you and you’d have to go up to the rail and flirt with them a little, standing just where you did on that day you first ran into Johnny. His plight still occupied your mind. Poor guy- his daughter left him and so did his wife. He’s probably a very lonely man. Before you could get to thinking about how you would be more than happy to help him out a little with that loneliness, your attention was drawn elsewhere. It seemed that you were too slow to notice the panicked looks and the people starting to make themselves scarce until a hush fell over the street and the air was so tense you could cut it with a knife. Just as you could’ve sworn you could hear yourself sweat, that’s when you saw him.

This hulking, dark mass looked like a vulture on the prowl as he sulked past a roadside fruit stand. There was no question who this was. Your blood ran cold at the dark chuckle that reverberated through the bandit king’s throat at the poor, shivering man who owned the stand as Bam snatched something out of one of the baskets full of fruit, not bothering to pay for it. He was subtle and silent there, something nobody had ever known him to be. Flicking his Bowie knife out of its leather sheath, the silver blade glimmered under the hot southwestern sun like sparkling hot oil as he wasted no time carving the skin off of that pitaya fruit. Though his eyes were concealed under the shadow of the brim of his hat, you felt Bam’s chilling gaze on you from that predatory grin he wore as sticky, red juices bubbled up around the Damascus steel, smearing across his blade and dribbling down his fingers. As if to emphasize a point, he dropped the now discarded peel to the ground and brought the knife to his lips, a serpent-like tongue flicking out to lap at the last traces of sweet nectar from the sharp, glinting edge.

And he smiled at you.

A cool wind blew through the air as you and Johnny sat down at the top of the hill that Sunday. “You know, ma’am,” Sitting with his legs out, cowhide boots stretched out in front of him on the grass, he turned to you, “I never caught your name- your real one, I mean.” Glancing up from the basket, you shook yourself from your thoughts of your encounter with Bam that last week, swallowing before you replied, “It’s, uh- it’s Y/N.” A warm smile spread across his face as you spoke, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. “Y/N. That is a mighty beautiful name.” That warm feeling- that same feeling as before, swelled up in your chest as you stared out onto the golden desert that seemed to stretch on for miles in the early morning sun. “Johnny.” You cleared your throat, “Is this how you expected it to go? Life, I mean.” God knows that you didn’t. You came here looking for a better life. What a sham that was. It was rare that you really got to feeling sorry for yourself, but sometimes, and especially after what happened, it was hard. Feeling nauseated, you hadn’t touched a crumb of the food you brought for the both of you, while Johnny had eagerly gotten through more than half the basket by the time you spoke up. “If you’re askin’ me if I thought I’d end up a cowboy, traveling the land and rightin’ wrongs, I would say yes.” He added hurriedly, a little embarrassed, “But, so far in this town, that ain’t exactly what I’ve been doin’...”

“So, you’re not gonna stay?” Unconsciously, you had inched just a little closer to him, nearly laying your head on his shoulder as the two of you talked. This clearly didn’t pass under Johnny’s notice as his voice fell sweet like honey against your ears, “Well, I didn’t say that. What I mean is, “ He turned toward you slightly, so close to your face that his lips nearly brushed against your cheek as he spoke in a low, slow voice, “all I’d need is a reason to stay.” You only then just noticed how, with the way your face was tilted towards his, your lips were nearly, almost touching. And then they did. But it felt nice- different from the sloppy men who had stolen kisses from you before. It felt soft, and natural. Almost upon contact, Johnny sat back with wide eyes, surprised at his own impulsive actions, “O-Oh lord…” His voice got real quiet, nearly wavering, as he blushed softly, “That may’ve been the least gentlemanly thing I’ve ever done.“

You stopped him, placing a hand against the soft fabric of his dark, half unbuttoned shirt front and leaning back in to gently press your lips to his, your eyelashes fluttering shut. Johnny’s warm muscles were initially tense under your touch but as he relaxed into the kiss, so did his body, letting out a soft groan against your lips. You had never made a man blush before, much less react so earnestly. Reaching out to you, the cowboy’s hands found purchase in your clothing, calloused fingers tangling into your calico dress as he hurriedly undid the brass buttons. Your heart fluttered in your chest and your head swam from the passion and desert heat as you started to think that this was maybe what love was supposed to be. Johnny’s breath came out in hot pants against your newly exposed skin as he hungrily sucked mauve blotches onto your neck and chest, his facial scruff tickling a little as he practically devoured you. But he was gentle with it. So sweet and gentle.

Nothing could have pulled Johnny away from you then, not even the gunshot that cracked out loud in the town below while the two of you were still caught up in the heat of the moment, so you were the one who had to pull his face away from your bosom by his hair. You could feel his breath fanning out against your skin as you sat up to get a better look at the commotion. Howling and cackling like twin coyotes, off rode the bandit king away with his fair haired cohort, arms full of loot from their latest hit- the town general store. They had swiped a small fortune in gunpowder, dynamite, and tobacco. Of course, this drew the townspeople away from church early, especially when one of the two young men who owned the store ran out, shouting and brandishing a shotgun. He fired three or four shells in their general direction, but his shots didn’t come near the hides of the bay mustangs nor the bandits that rode away on them, kicking up dust.

Johnny went back to the horse stables that night and realized just how much everything was looking up for him. He had a roof over his head, the favor of a lovely woman he would quite frankly lay down his life for, and hot meals every night courtesy of the man who owned the stable, a fellow by the name of Chris who he had gotten to know pretty well. In fact, besides the town bartender Steve, he was his only friend, but it was hard to count Steve as a friend because he was always tacking extra tequila shots onto Johnny’s tab while he distracted him with some trick he picked up in the circus. Still, he could let that slide because business was business. Chris, on the other hand, was just a sweet guy who loved horses, and he had taken such a liking to Johnny’s horse, Noami, that he let him sleep in her horse stall there free of charge.

So that explained why he was in the stables in the middle of the night, laying back against her shiny, chestnut coat as she slept with her head against his chest, snoring softly. Funnily enough, it was the horse sleeping against him that woke up first when a dark figure hopped the front gates into the stables. Blinking awake after she stood up, Johnny sat up curiously to catch sight of the silhouette opening stall doors. He thought about Chris- all those nights of charity and companionship, just for him to let some two bit their run off with his buddy’s pride and joy? Oh, no way in hell he was going to let that happen. A flash of emotions went through his mind as he threw himself to his feet and stood up to block the front gate. Johnny’s voice was nearly a growl as he gazed across at the bandit who was currently trying to make off with Jezebel, Chris’ prized palomino mare. “Y’aint leavin’ with her.” Though he didn’t initially recognize him, Johnny put two and two together quickly.

Bam was dead quiet, only visible as the tombstone shape he made in the darkness as he got low, light glinting off of the silver spurs affixed to his heels. Then, all at once it was as if the cowboy had taken a steam engine to the solar plexus, while in actuality it was a black suede wrapped fist that had knocked the air from his lungs. Still, Johnny stayed on his feet, coughing hard and hitting him with a poorly placed uppercut that knocked that hat clean off of his head. Bam sputtered, his mouth now bloodied and dripping onto the sand as he ducked down, taking a step to the side as his right hand reached for the gun afixed to his hip. It was no wonder the bandit king would fight dirty. Before Johnny could duck away, cold steel collided with his orbital bone in a skillfully placed pistol whip and he was knocked out cold. As the cowboy’s body fell limp to the ground, Bam huffed and spun his trusty piece around a finger before slotting it back in its leather holster, shooting a look at the man below him that spelled out that his resistance would not go unpunished.

When Johnny woke up, the first person to come to his aid was the stable owner himself. Chris picked him up under the armpits, lugging his half awake self over to a wooden chair in a corner and leaving him there as he went to fetch some medical supplies from his home next door, leaving the door open as midday sun flooded in. Blinking awake, the first thing Johnny did was look around to see if maybe what had happened last night was a bad dream and that the horse was still waiting in her stable, which was especially hard given the purple swelling around his left eye, but her stall door was wide open from the previous night. As Chris returned with a leather medical bag, Johnny coughed, his voice gravelly, “He- he got away with Jezebel…” This was a low point for him. It seemed that no matter how or when he tried to intervene, there was nothing this cowboy could do, even for the man who had shown him such charity. Kneeling down and threading catgut sutures onto the curved needle, Chris seemed forlorn, yes, but there was an appreciative inflection to his voice as he stitched up the split in Johnny’s cheek, “But he could’ve gotten away with a lot more if you weren't here. I’d say that makes you a hero in my book!” Turning it over in his head, he decided that maybe he had a point with that, but he still wasn't going to tell Y/N. She didn’t need to know. As the needle pierced the cowboy’s skin, he winced, sucking a breath in through his teeth. As Johnny peered down at the dried blood that certainly wasn't his that still remained on his knuckles, he swallowed hard, his voice still tense and very grave, “I’ll get’re back for you. Promise.”

So you heard no word of the stolen horses the next morning and went about your day without a care in the world, tending to clients as usual. You were especially busy that night, feverishly going from man to man, doing your thing and racking up quite a sum in commissions from all the whiskey you pawned off. In fact, you were so focused that you nearly jumped when you heard your name, “Y/N.” Madame Evette tapped you on the shoulder, drawing your attention away from the client you were currently entertaining, “Room seven. There’s a gentleman waitin’ for you upstairs.” It struck you as odd because while men who wanted to skip all the fluff wasn't that uncommon, it didn’t happen every night. Apologizing to the fellow you were talking to with a red lipsticked kiss on the cheek, you turned to hurry up the creaky staircase, making clicky noises against the wood in your little heeled boots.

Wandering down the hall of rooms upstairs, you cracked open the door of room seven to darkness inside from a put out lantern. Oh, poor guy- he must be shy. That makes the whole no canoodling thing make more sense. As you closed the door behind you, you noticed that there was just enough light from the moon trickling in the open window that you could still see a general outline of the man sitting in the wooden chair at the far corner of the room with his knees about a mile apart as you approached him, doing your little flirty routine, “So, what can I do ya’ for, handsome?” Wordlessly, the figure gestured down with two fingers and you knew what he was asking for, especially after he shifted his hips to sit lower in the chair with a huff. Getting onto your knees, you positioned yourself between his thighs, the floor chilling the skin of your bare legs. Reaching out, you started to undo his pants, and while the downstairs parlor was consistently noisy, the soft metallic clinking of a belt buckle was the only noise in the otherwise silent room. Your lips fell open and your eyes suddenly went wide at the sudden, unmistakable ice cold feeling against your forehead.

It was the muzzle of a revolver. The voice that rumbled out of the man above you was nearly a snarl as he spoke through his teeth, “You make one peep an’ I swear to god,” he pressed the tip harder against your head for emphasis and you could swear you heard a smirk in his voice, “I’m puttin’ this bullet in your fuckin’ skull.” Your heartbeat pounded in your ribcage as you felt your head swim and you thought that this is what it feels like to be a jackrabbit caught in the jaws of a coyote. Quivering, your gaze nervously trailed up his body, and you could feel the color drain from your face when your sight fell upon his glinting, all too familiar vulture eyes, flickering like blue hot steel. Click. The bandit king slowly pulled back on the hammer, his hand so close to your face you could see his fingers curl around the mother of pearl handle and read the words etched into the barrel as he tightened his grip with his finger on the trigger. And he chuckled this deep, predatory laugh, grinning down at you with a mouth full of fangs as he spoke slow, deliberately, “Now you’re gonna stand up nice n’ slow with those hands b’hind yer back- and you are gonna be real quiet.” Frozen in fear, you couldn’t move under the shadow that looked over you even if you wanted to keep your brain inside your skull, which you really, really did. “Y’takin’ me fr’a fool, whore?” Bam’s thick accent deepened with agitation as he spit his words, nearly barking, “I said,”

“Stand. Up.” A gloved hand roughly tangled in your hair and yanked you up on shaky deer legs, forcing you to weakly comply much to his satisfaction with the gun still snugly pressed against your forehead. Standing maybe six inches away from you, you picked up on the distinct scent of alcohol and tobacco on his breath. With how his gaze lingered at your lips, you could tell he was getting an idea of something else he could do with that gun, but he just nodded, relenting just slightly at your compliance, “That’s it, girl. Now turn around.” Standing up after you, Bam jabbed the revolver between your shoulder blades making you arch your back as he harshly grabbed your wrists and deftly bound them with the red bandana he wore around his neck. Pulling the gun away from your spine for a second, a warning shot cracked out through the ceiling that made you jump, your eyes nearly bugging out of your skull in fear as you yelped. But your terror was funny- so damn funny to Bam as he pushed you along, the burning hot muzzle returning to where it once was.

The scene downstairs was absolute chaos after that bullet went through the ceiling. Startled patrons and half clothed women scrambled outside, flooding into the streets and attracting quite a bit of attention, especially from the cowboy that was lingering outside the horse stables before he was set to retire for the night. Even though every instinct in him told him to stay away based on the outcome of his previous heroic efforts, Johnny’s body lurched forward almost involuntarily, dashing towards the chaos that Madame Evette’s Gentleman Parlor had become. Pushing past frightened patrons, he stormed in right as Bam was walking you down the staircase as you stumbled in front of him. Your panic-stricken eyes met Johnny’s (or at least, the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut) as he stared at the scene in front of him, his tone stern but his fear giving way to a trace of vulnerability in his voice after he swallowed hard, “Let her go.” The man behind you tugged you back hard by your bound wrists as the gun relocated to your temple, wedging you in place between the weapon and where the bandit king rested his head on your shoulder, nuzzling against your cheek. “Oh, no way…” Bam held eye contact with Johnny as purred into your ear, speaking melodically as he taunted both you and him, “I gotch’re woman…an’ I don’t feel like givin’ her back.” Adding insult to injury, with his torso pressed snug against your back in a crude imitation of intimacy, his free hand, which was sitting on your hip, slid up your body posessively, reaching to roughly fondle your chest as he let out a low, predatory growl, his gaze challenging the cowboy across from him.

If you could’ve seen the white hot fury in Johnny’s eyes. Blinded by rage, he didn’t even consider using the pistol tucked into his holster, instead lunging to tackle Bam to the ground. You slipped out of his tight grasp just in time, clamoring to safety on your hands and knees on the hardwood floor as the cowboy just wailed on the guy. The struggle between the two was like watching two bighorn sheep with their horns locked in conflict, a blur of instinct and emotion, all rabid and teeth and fists. Letting out shuddering breaths, all you could do was watch the violent scene in front of you with your heart pounding out of your chest, not daring to move an inch. The only thing that could’ve pulled Johnny off of the man beneath him was when the town sheriff stormed in, grabbing him by the back of his shirt collar and throwing him off of the bandit king, or what was left of him as he lay limp on the ground. He was beaten to a pulp, almost literally- just a wheezing, bubbling mess of blood and bruising with a few teeth missing. Pulling Bam up by his sweat soaked black curls, Sheriff Tremaine held him to dangle in the air, glaring at the man in his hand with unadulterated disgust, “You’n you’re little gang’re goin’ away for a while.” There was no doubt that he had witnessed the brutality the cowboy inflicted, especially with the blood still dripping off of his still raw knuckles, but it seemed that he would let it slide this time, glancing to you and Johnny and tipping his hat, “We’re gonna get to roundin’ up the rest’a these bandits.”

Without a proper leader, the most fearsome gang of criminals in the west were left with nothing to hold them together, letting the sheriff's men easily pick them off and throw them in the slammer where they rightfully belonged. Life, for once in that godforsaken town, was peaceful. And Johnny? Well, after he was credited as the man who took down the bandits, he was hailed as the town hero, especially after he helped rebuild the bar and returned Jezebel to her stall at the town stables. Even Madame Evette had taken a liking to him, permitting him to come and go to the parlor whenever he felt the need to visit you- on the condition that he got a new pair of boots.

[iamafanofcartoons]

20 Ways how you know you might like RWBY?

Remember, there is no best show ever. Every show has its ups and downs. We’re just going to explain why RWBY is a show worth watching, that’s it.

1) Do you like ATLA, TOH, SPOP and LoK? -> Chances are, you’ll also like RWBY. Its not the same, and its never meant to try to be the same. But it does carry similar things.

2) Do you like stories with badass women taking on the roles typically held by male protagonist?  -> Then you should like RWBY.

3) Do you like stories with found family themes AND positive Step-family relationships?  -> Then RWBY should be on your list.

4) Do you enjoy stories with in depth fantasy lore and history?  -> Then RWBY would be a fantastic show to watch, because it does have them.

5) Do you like analyzing shows that have lots of significant hidden details, foreshadowing, easter eggs, callbacks, and references?  -> Then you’ll quite like RWBY.

6) Do you enjoy watching character development?  -> Chances are then that you’ll like RWBY.

7) Do you like slow burn WLW relationships?  -> RWBY, because BUMBLEBY KISSED TWICE, BABY!

8) Do you like shows with badass soundtracks made specifically for the show with lyrics that even add foreshadowing and other fun details? ->  RWBY has that.

9) Do you enjoy shows that are all about hope and love in the face of despair and hate?  -> RWBY!!!

10) Do you like shows where all of the characters are based on fairy tales, myths, legends, historical figures, etc. with wee details added here and there to give clues as to who each person is based on?  ->RWBY

11) Do you enjoy shows that are more light hearted and fun but then also still get into serious topics like dealing with loss, alcoholism, PTSD, abuse, neglect, abandonment issues, etc?  -> RWBY

12) Do you like badass fight scenes where the animation just keeps getting better and better as the show continues? -> RWBY

13) Do you like Warrior Nun and other similar shows? -> RWBY could very well be enjoyable for you too

14)Do you like long form story telling where details come back from all the way in the beginning of the show? -> RWBY definitely does that. We’re on Volume 9 and they brought up stuff from back in Volume 1 during it.

15) Do you like shows that are even better when you rewatch them cuz you can then pick up on all sorts of details you missed previously that MAKE SO MUCH MORE SENSE NOW and make you love the show even more? -> RWBY is so damn easy to rewatch

16) Do you like stories that constantly subvert expectations in brilliant ways? Like in ways that MAKE SENSE? -> RWBY!

17) Do you like stories about HOPE that aren’t just naive and blind to everything and to reality? -> RWBY 100%

18) Do you like fantasy-mecha type weapons that can transform and badass n creative character fighting styles? -> Have I said it enough yet?

19) Do you like shows with INTERESTING villains that actually have interesting backstories and motivations that isn’t just simply cuz they’re “evil”? RWBY

20) FINALLY:   Do you like shows that take a very fanservice concept (girls fighting monsters) and gives them stories, personalities, development, and Bechdel-passing relationships, while it takes two male power fantasies (gritty edgelord who uses prolific violence and morally grey actions to pursue a noble goal, and tactical mastermind who makes difficult sacrifices for The Mission) and made them failures?...--> Again, RWBY.

Here’s something else to consider for you

https://yinyangofnevermore.tumblr.com/post/710346324045856768/so-youre-considering-watching-rwby-or-youre

Just remember. NOBODY is saying that RWBY is the best show out there.

We’re simply saying its a good show and that its enjoyable. So please? We’re simply asking you to give this show a chance.

#greenlightvolume10 #greenlightrwbyvolume10