#and in the beginning she talks about how before she was in the dresden dolls she was like a living statue street performer

[wiypt-writes]

You Cut A Mean Rug, Doll Face

Bucky Barnes One Shot

Summary: It’s no secret that Bucky Barnes has women falling at his feet, but it’s very rarely the other way round. He’s the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, well according to Steve anyway. So, when you find him hiding to avoid a certain Private’s advances, it amuses you no end…until she shows up and you find yourself offering to be his ‘Fake Date’ for Stark’s upcoming USO Gala Dance.

Fake Dating in the middle of a war…what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Bad language words. Smut. (NSFW 18+)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N:  So this is written as part of @anika-ann​’s 1111 Follower Challenge. Congratulations darling! My prompt was Fake Dating.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

 **********

“Hey, Steve.” You greeted the blonde super soldier as you walked into the little make-shift kitchen, deep in the underground London SSR HQ.

“Afternoon, Agent.” He nodded and you rolled your eyes, picking a piece of fluff off your khaki green uniform jacket.

“Seriously, after everything we’ve pulled together we’re still at agent?” You raised an eyebrow drawing a soft chuckle from the man in front of you as he poured a coffee into one of the tin mugs on offer, holding it out to you.

“Sorry, force of habit. Y/N. That better?”

“Much.” You nodded, taking the mug with a thanks, pulling a face as you took a sip. “God, all the technology we have and I still can’t get a decent cup of Joe.”

“Maybe you should have a word with Stark.” Steve shrugged. “He seems to be able to lay his hands on most things, rationing be dammed.”

“Well, you’re the man with the plan and he’s the man that can.” A smirk pulled at your face as you watched Steve fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Anyway, where’s Barnes? Colonel Phillips is riding my ass about a report he hasn’t filed. Keeps moaning on about us being unable to run strategic operations if we don’t actually do any strategizing.”

At that Steve’s face broke into a grin. “He’s hiding.”

“Hiding?” You frowned. “Chester isn’t that scary, he’s a pussy cat if you figure out how to make him purr.”

“Okay there are so many things wrong with what you just said that I’m not even going to go into.” Steve snorted and you flashed him a grin as he continued. “He ain’t hiding from Phillips, he’s hiding from Private Lorraine.”

“Why?” You paused, mug hovering an inch or so from your mouth.

“Well according to Stark who heard from Jones who heard from-“

“Yeah, yeah, skip to the interesting bit about why Barnes his hiding like the cowardly lion” You cut him off and he raised his eyebrows, his smirk growing wider.

“She wants him to ask her to that USO dance gala thing Stark is hosting.”

At that you felt the heat in your neck, jealousy, at the thought of the blue-eyed solider you’d been harbouring a crush on for months, like some love sick teenager, dancing with someone else. You carefully held Steve’s eyes and licked your lips, hoping you hadn’t given yourself away too much.

“Of course she does.” You shrugged, clearing your throat. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why is he hiding?”

“He doesn’t want to go with her.” Steve shrugged, taking another sip of his drink and this time you did absolutely nothing to stop the grin that spread across your face.

“How come?”

At that Steve hesitated for a moment before he popped a shoulder again, slightly avoiding your eye line. "No idea."

You knew he was lying, he was notoriously bad at it, but before you could call him out, a deep voice spoke from the doorway.

"Sure your Ma told you it was rude to talk about people behind their backs, Stevie." Bucky grumbled as he walked into the room.

"Yeah, and I'm sure yours told you it was rude to do a lot of things that you still do anyway." Steve shot back and Bucky merely rolled his eyes, walking to the coffee pot and helping himself. 

"Well, I’m astounded." You looked at Bucky as he turned around, leaning slightly against the small units that lined the room. "James Buchanan Barnes is fanning a woman away."

"Yeah, I don’t make a habit of it, Doll Face." He eyed you shrewdly over his mug.

"Still, never thought I'd see the day." You hummed, sipping your drink.

Bucky rolled his eyes and gestured with his mug towards Steve. "Now you sound like him."

"So, humour me, Barnes. What is it about her that’s making you run for the hills?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment before he winkled his nose and answered you. "She’s not my type."

"Really? I thought every woman was your type." 

At that, Steve gave a chuckle. "She's got you there, Buck. I don't think I saw you without one before you shipped off."

"Shut up, Steve." Bucky bit back before he gave a low groan. "She's just..."

"Just what?" You scoffed. "Tall, blonde with big, come-to-bed eyes and pouty red lips? What's not to fall over? Dum Dum follows her around like a dog."

"Sweetheart, Dum Dum would probably chase a pig wearing lipstick if he thought he had a chance." Bucky looked at you his eyebrow raised and you heard Steve give a little snort of laughter. You turned slowly to him, and his eyes widened a little as you narrowed your eyes.

"What's your excuse?"

"His excuse?" Bucky paused, mug poised at his lips as Steve began to flounder over his words, a pink flush spreading into his cheeks.

“Yeah, he kissed her.” You informed and Buck gave a loud groan, placing his mug down on the side. "Peggy caught them, big time."

"She kissed me." Steve protested and at that Bucky sighed. 

"What has my life become? Seriously?" He shook his head, his eyes flicking between you and Steve. "I’m hiding because I don’t wanna go dancing with some broad whilst this punks beating ‘em off with a stick."

"Shield." You corrected as Steve made an exasperated noise in his throat.

"I’m in a nightmare, right?" Bucky finished.

"’Fraid not, Buckaroo." You placed your now empty mug besides his on the wooden counter. "But I suggest that you get your report to me on the Dresden raid or you really will be in a bad dream. Colonel Phillips wants them pronto and I'm not taking the flack because you're too lazy to do it."

Bucky groaned. "How am I supposed to think about that with all this other shit going on?"

"Nice to see you have your priorities straight." Steve scoffed and Bucky glared at him but before he could reply, a loud girly laugh filled the kitchen and you saw Bucky still.

"There you are!" Private Lorraine spoke and you exchanged a glance with Steve, a look of utter glee spreading across his face at his friend's discomfort. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Sergeant Barnes."

"Now what on Earth would give you that idea?" You quipped. As usual, she completely ignored you and watched as Bucky turned to look at her.

"Well, you found me." He nodded, a false smile spreading across his face.

"Yeah, I did. So, err, this dance, do you have a date or..."

Bucky took a deep breath, "well, the thing is..."

"Yes, he does." You blurted out, before you could stop yourself. You stepped forward and slipped your hand into his, ignoring the shocked look he gave you as you stood by his side. "He's going with me."

"You?" Lorraine looked at you, her eyebrows shooting up so high they almost disappeared into her hairline.

"Yes, me." You smiled. "So, you'll have to find someone else to go with. I think Duggan might be free."

"Well, suppose there's no accounting for taste." The blonde woman in front of you looked you up and down and you bristled under her glare, your nostrils flaring angrily. Sure, you might not have her model looks, hell, you might not even be conventionally pretty in some eyes, but you sure weren’t going to make her let you feel like shit. You'd been brought up by a loving family who made you realise your worth and that despite what anyone else said, you were just as good as them. You continued to hold her gaze and eventually she licked her lips and looked away.

"Well, erm, that's..." she clicked her tongue against her cheek, before deciding to cut her losses and she left the room.

The three of you stood in silence before Bucky turned to look at you, a smirk spreading across his face. "You, are a genius!" He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you swallowed slightly, feeling the heat in your neck. "I owe you, big time."

"Yeah, you do." You shrugged. "You can start by doing that damned report. And then you’re buying me a drink at the Gala, seeing as we're, you know, fake dating."

"You got it, Doll." Bucky saluted, flashing you a wink.

"Fake dating?" Steve muttered, and you turned to look at him as he shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. "I've heard it all now."

You cleared you throat, and removed your hand from where it was still in Bucky’s and swallowed. "I need to get going. That report, Barnes. Don’t forget."

"Anything for you, Darlin'." Bucky grinned.

You gave him a last little smile, and then turned leaving the room letting out an inward groan.

What the hell had you just got yourself into?

****

“Why did I do this?” You sighed, looking at your reflection in the mirror, shaking your head.

“Because you’re sweet on him.” Peggy matter of factly replied and you shot her a look in the mirror. She gave you a knowing smirk and you sighed.

“I just felt sorry for him, okay?”

“Sorry for him?”

“Yeah, you know what she’s like, she wouldn’t leave him alone.”

“Admirable.” Peggy nodded, stepping forward so she was behind you, reaching up to fix another pin into your up do. “So what’s your master plan? Act the part tonight and break up tomorrow?”

You shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far.”

“I doubt you’ve thought at all.”  The brunette looked at you, her perfectly shaped eyebrow raising slightly.

“You know, you and Steve really are a match made in heaven.” You scoffed, stepping to the side as you smoothed down the dress you were wearing. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it traced your curves perfectly and made a nice change from the uniform you spent every day wearing. “Go take your righteous indignation and discuss it with him. That is if you’re speaking to him this week, I can never keep up.”

At that Peggy pursed her lips. “We’re not discussing me and Steve, we’re discussing you and how you’re going to get through the next however long pretending to date someone you actually want to date.”

“Well, it could be worse.” You shrugged.

“How?”

“I could be about to spend however long pretending to date someone I don’t like.”

Peggy looked at you for a second and you held her gaze, challenging her to say anything more on the matter. Eventually she merely raised her eyebrows before she turned and looked at the clock.

“We should go.”

With a deep breath you took one last glance at your reflection, grabbed the small clutch from the cot in your room and followed her out.

*****

The small dancehall in London's Soho District was packed with soldiers and civilian staff alike, and you accepted the drink offered to you by a waiter as you entered the main room, the Big Band already playing a bluesy-jazz number as background music, whilst people stood around the room, chatting. It didn’t take you long to locate Bucky. He was stood with Steve and the rest of the Howlies by the bar, all of them dressed in their best uniforms. Taking a deep breath, those pesky butterflies fluttering away in your stomach, you made your way over with Peggy and she let out an annoyed sigh as the men all blatantly looked the pair of you up and down.

“You’d think they’d never seen a woman before.” She mumbled and you scoffed out a laugh.

“Well, we’ve been running missions with them for that long maybe they’ve forgotten that we actually have boobs and a vagina.”

At that Peggy stopped to look at you, and the pair of you started to laugh.

“You are so uncouth.” She shook her head at you, as you linked your arm through hers and continued your path towards your team.

“Like I said, I’ve been in the field with these bozos for over a year, guess their bad habits are rubbing off on me.”

“Well, as long as that’s all that’s rubbing off on you.”

“Agent Carter!” Your mouth fell open in mock horror, turning to look at her as she continued facing forward, her lips quirked up at one side in a barely there smirk. “Now who’s being uncouth?”

“Ladies.” Dum-Dum greeted you with a tip of his bowler as you approached and you nodded to him, smiling before you turned to look at Bucky.

“Wow.” His eyes flicked up and down your form again, and you swallowed, a warm feeling spreading over you as his eyes took in your outfit and when his eyes finally met yours he cleared his throat and you gave him a small smile. “You err, look great. I mean, compared to how you usually look.”

At that Falsworth, Dum-Dum, Dernier, Jones and Morita all snorted as Steve let out a groan.

“Thanks. I think.” You frowned.

“No, I err…I didn’t mean it like that.” Bucky hastily began to back track as Dernier mumbled something in French, of which you caught the words ‘stupid idiot’, Jones hastily agreeing. “I just, well, it’s different to how I’ve seen you before.”

“Well a tight dress and courts ain’t exactly practical for hiking through woods and mounting stealth operations.” You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. “But for the record, you look exactly the same as you usually do.”

At that the men all roared with laughter as Bucky sighed, dropping his head. “Guess I asked for that.”

Bucky watched as you gave him a small grin, before you turned to talk to Jones, and he took the chance to observe you properly. You looked good. You always did in his eyes but tonight, you were a knock out. Your dress hugged the curves of your thighs and hips, nipping in at the waist with a neckline that showed him just enough skin to leave him imagining what it would feel like to pepper your collarbone with kisses. Your hair was set in a perfect style, your lips rouged, you looked effortlessly stylish. He swallowed, sliding his finger in between the collar of his shirt and neck in an attempt to loosen the starched material as he suddenly flushed very, very warm. He felt timid, awkward, and that in itself made him feel a strange juxtaposition of irritated and amused. Bucky Barnes didn’t get nervous around women, that was Steve’s speciality. But here he was, flapping over how best to ask you if you wanted to get a drink whilst that punk was laughing away with Agent Carter hanging off his every word.

No, this wouldn’t do.

With a small cough, Bucky cleared his throat and dropped his hand to the base of your back. “You want a drink, Doll Face?”

You smiled up at him, blinking and nodded. “Yeah, thanks Buck. A gin would be great.”

Bucky waved over the bartender, placed your orders and had just turned back to you when he spotted the woman who’d thrown him into this mess in the first place, Private Lorraine arriving with some other poor, unsuspecting soldier from the unit. Bucky didn’t know his name, not that he cared.

“Hey,” he nudged you and you turned to face him and he jerked his head, “guess this fake date worked.”

You followed his eye-line and visibly bristled a little bit before you shook your head and shrugged. “Poor bastard.”

“You really don’t like her, do you?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Just a hunch.” Bucky smirked, passing you your drink, before he gestured with his arm for you to follow the group who were now moving away from the bar to find a table. “After you, Darlin’.”

*****

You had to admit, you’d had your reservations but as it turned out, the night was pretty fun. Whilst you’d been hyper aware of Bucky besides you, you felt reasonably relaxed. His arm had dropped round your shoulder at one point, pulling you in for a friendly hug, the way he often did out in the field, and you’d simply enjoyed being as close to him as you were.

Because, fake or not, a chance to date Bucky Barnes didn’t come along that often.

It was a couple of hours later when you both found yourself at the table with Steve who made an excuse he needed the bathroom and left. Bucky snorted as Steve headed across the room and shook his head.

“Bathroom, he must think we’re stupid. He’s gone to find Peggy.”

“Aww, don’t. I think it’s cute.” You smiled, turning to look at Bucky. “Don’t you? I mean we’re fighting a war and in the middle of all this bloodshed and horror, he’s found someone who…” you trailed off as Bucky was watching you, a strange expression on his face. “Or not…am I talking nonsense?”

“No, it’s not that.” Bucky shook his head. “I just, guess I never thought about it that way. But you’re right. Suppose none of us know how long we have left, especially at the moment.”

He trailed off, his eyes scanning yours for something, but what you weren’t sure. You felt your cheeks warm and you glanced down at your hands, before you turned to watch the dancing going on around you. It was crazy when you stopped to contemplate that, in the midst of all the devastation and destruction, life was still going on. Bucky was right, your time could be up in a flash at any point.

“Well, seeing as you put it so eloquently,” you looked at Bucky, jerking your head to the dance floor. “Wanna show me how it’s done in Brooklyn?”

“Do you mind if we don’t?” Bucky shook his head and your heart sank. “I just…well, I…”

“No, you don’t need to explain.” You hastily back tracked. “I just thought it might keep up appearances, that’s all.”

There was an awkward silence, Bucky studying you for a moment with an expression you really couldn’t place and then, well, it all became too much.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You made the same excuse Steve had given moments ago, and before Bucky could say anything, you rose from your seat and walked away, as dignified as you could, trying not to let the tears that were stinging your eyes fall down your face.

*****

Bucky watched you walk away from him, your movements graceful as you headed round the tables placed around the edge of the dance floor, taking care to avoid the groups of guests as you went. He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. This was a mess. It had started out as a bit of fun, you helping him out, because that's what you did, but he'd been a wreck all night. Frankly, being in such close proximity to you was making his head swim.

He'd wanted to dance with you, he'd really wanted to dance with you, but he didn’t trust himself because the truth was he liked you. A lot and he had done so for a while. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself to hold you on the dance floor without trying to kiss the life out of you. So he’d said no, and let you walk away, and the look of hurt on your face was now burnt into his mind. With an angry snort he stood up and stalked to the bar, signalling for another drink.

He stood there, nursing his glass for what felt like an age, seething at his own stupidity until a familiar voice cut through his murderous thoughts.

"Did HYDRA scramble your brain or something, Buck?"

"What?" Bucky's brow furrowed as he turned to look at Steve.

"You’re missing a girl's signals."

"Signals, what are you..."

"Y/N, you dolt." Steve rolled his eyes.

"What about her?"

"She likes you, has for ages."

"I don’t think so, Steve" Bucky snorted.

Steve sighed and leaned against the bar as Bucky necked his scotch. "So explain the look she had on her face as she stalked passed me before.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. "She wanted a dance, dames love dancing. I said no.”

“And why did you do that?”

Bucky took a deep breath and didn’t answer. But he knew Steve could see right through him, the punk always could.

“Buck, what exactly did you think I meant that night at the bar when we first came to England a couple of months back? About Peggy having a friend? I meant Y/N."

Bucky blinked, his mouth dropping open. "What?"

"She's sweet on you. Falsworth told me. I was trying to give you a hint."

Utter frustration lanced through Bucky's entire body and he shook his head. "How in the name of Hitler’s left ball was I supposed to understand that?"

"Well, I thought it was obvious."

"No, no it wasn't, Steve!" Bucky groaned, his eyes flicking around, trying to locate you in the crowd but he felt his heart sink as there was no sign. "Oh, I fucked up, big time."

"Suggest you go fix it then." Steve shrugged, his voice a little slow as he himself was busy looking at Peggy as she walked towards him, smiling. He stood up straight and clapped Bucky on the shoulder, before he walked off, leaving his sergeant alone.

Bucky anxiously continued to search the room with his eyes, and felt his heart jump as he saw a flash of colour the same as your dress, and your familiar profile as you walked onto the dance floor, your hand in Howard’s as the man smiled at you, pulling you into a hold.

Oh, fuck you, Stark!

Without wasting another second, Bucky necked his scotch and moved, striding around the dancehall towards you, not watching where he was going which was why he collided straight into Dum-Dum.

"Woah, Barnes, where's the fire?"

"On the dance floor, I hope.” Bucky sidestepped round the broad man quickly, his eyes entirely fixed on you as he weaved his way round the various couples all in the middle of a reasonable slow dance until he reached the pair of you.

He cleared his throat, gently tapping Howard on the shoulder as your eyes fixed onto his, surprise etched across your face.

“Mind if I cut in?”

xxxx

“Did it work?” Peggy asked Steve as the pair of them stood to the side of the hall. Steve glanced over the dancefloor, just as Howard stepped away from you, kissing your hand in an over-the-top gesture before he turned and walked away. Bucky approached you tentatively, and Steve saw you give the faintest of nods, before his friend took you in a close dancing hold.

Grinning, Steve turned back to Peggy, jerking his head to the floor. “See for yourself.”

As the pair of them watched you and Bucky for a second, Steve’s eyes then fell on Howard who had paused to talk to someone. Almost as if he could sense the Captain’s eyes on him, Stark glanced over, a smug grin crossed his face, and he gave Steve the thumbs up sign.

Steve smiled into his glass, the irony at the fact that Bucky had tried and failed many times to fix him up with gals in the past yet he’d managed to turn the tables in a single try, wasn’t wasted on the Captain.

xxxx

“Funny looking bathroom.” Bucky cleared his throat as he steered the pair of you round in a gentle dance.

“Oh, well I got waylaid a little.” You replied. “And seeing as we’re not actually dating, I didn’t think it was an issue.”

“It’s not, I just…” He was quick to reply as he drew in another deep breath before he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

 “What for?”

“Before, saying no the way I did. It was rude.”

You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you glanced up at him. “So, is that the only reason you’ve come to dance now? To apologise?”

“Yes, I mean, no.” Bucky stumbled over his words as he shook his head. “No, I wanted to dance. More specifically I wanted to dance with you.”

His admission settled like a bubbling brook in your belly. You wondered why, so you asked, "why?" 

Your mind began quickly doing the math, adding up the moments and signals between the two of you, wondering if what you dared to think was actually what he was thinking too. You were nervous but you remained close in your dance, your eyes flicking between his and his lips as he spoke, the words drowning in your ears, his voice sounding like your head was under water. 

“Because I like you, Doll Face.”

Then, you felt it, your body leaning in just a smidge as you tilted your head upward as his moved just a pinch to look down at you. Your lips brushed his and the electricity took off as he pulled you in for a deeper, slightly less modest kiss, the hand that had been curled around your waist moved upwards at the same time his other released yours from his hold, and calloused palms and fingers cupped your jaw and cheeks. Despite the roughness of his skin, his warm hands felt soft against your face like the finest silk whilst his tongue dipped into your mouth, kissing you in a way that your Pappy certainly wouldn’t approve of.

But you approved, boy did you approve.

The sounds of the big band drowned out the mewl that bubbled from your delicate throat to those around you, but not to Bucky. He heard the elicit sound clear as day, and that was enough. He wanted to get you alone, away from prying eyes.

He pulled back, casting a quick glance around before he looked down at you, "let's get out of here."

It was a suggestion as much as an instruction, and he waited as you blinked, before you gave the slightest nod and he took your hand, turned, and led you from the dancefloor.

****

How the pair of you made it back to your quarters, you had no idea, but here you were, stumbling into the small room, heated kisses being shared as Bucky kicked the door shut, his lips still fiercely on yours. Your fingers were now deftly undoing the buttons of his jacket before you pulled it open with a flourish, shoving it down over his shoulders and arms as Bucky was quickly pulling off his tie and opening the collar of his shirt. Before long, that was also discarded somewhere on the floor and your hands slid up his strong biceps, down his chest, tracing the taught muscle before your fingers hooked into the front of his uniform pants and you turned your attention to his belt, breaking the kiss a little so you could look down.

“Eager, Doll?” Bucky mumbled as his nose nudged at your chin, pushing your head up. His lips trailed across your jaw line, and then down your neck and you tipped your head back, your eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his lips on your skin, relishing the feel of his soft mouth and the delectable gentle scratching of his five-o-clock shadow.

His hands slowly slid up your sides, before they moved round the back, his lips pressing to yours as you felt his fingers gently guiding the zip of your dress down. Once it was undone, you stepped back and allowed it to fall into a pool at your feet. Bucky glanced down and groaned as his blue eyes scanned the stockings, garter belt, lace panties and matching bra.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His lips crashed back to yours as he backed you towards the cot at the side of the room.  As the back of your knees hit the metal side of the frame, he gently lowered you down, positioning himself over you, caging you with his arms and his legs as his mouth continued trailing soft kisses down your neck and her jawline.

You were powerless to stop the soft noises of pleasure you were making, try as you might, conscious of the fact the walls in the Quarter-Hall were thin, something you cursed on a daily basis as you could hear the squeak of the cot which belonged to the neighbour to your right as she turned over at night. Luckily for you, your springs were untested so to speak, therefore didn’t make a sound, unlike you at that moment in time.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Bucky suddenly stopped, his mouth hovering by your ear and you stilled, tilting your head to look at him. “I mean, this…well, it aint proper really, but…”

“Since when did you give a damned about being proper with a Dame?” You teased, fingers wrapping in the chain of his dog-tags, but there wasn’t a shred of humour in Bucky’s tone or on his face when he answered.

“When that dame was you.”

You blinked, and looked at his face, finding nothing there but a genuine softness and you were overcome with the emotions and sensations you were feeling and you yanked on the chain in your hands, pulling his head back down as you crashed your lips back to his.

“Yes, yes I do. I want this Bucky, I want it so much.” You mumbled against his mouth and he gave a groan, before he stood up, quickly, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out the small condom packet, one you recognised as the standard issued to all soldiers to avoid them catching anything when they were putting it about during furlough, so to speak, and he sat back down on the edge of the bed, bending down to unlace his boots.

Bucky was mentally cursing the damned things as he felt you stir behind him, the hard mattress of your bed dipping slightly, and he stilled as he felt your fingers gently brushing over the back of his shoulders. Your touch was feather light as your hands gently felt across his broad back and he gave a sigh, tipping his head back slightly to catch your lips in a deep kiss.

“Doll, if you want me to do anything to you tonight, I gotta get these boots off.”

“So take ‘em off.”

“Stop distractin’ me then.” His accent dripped from his tongue as he chuckled, and your lips curled into a smile against his.

“You saying you can’t handle a job with a little distraction?” You gave a tut, but pulled away a little to allow him to finally get the damned things off. “And Steve says you’re our best marksman.”

“Well, what does that Punk know?” Bucky tossed the boots to the floor with a thud, before he quickly raised his hips enough to allow him to slide off his pants. Then, in a flash he turned, pinning you back to the cot, smirking at the giggle that burst from your mouth. His hands trailed down your body, flicking open the clips on your garter straps without so much as a fumble, before the reached up and snapped the hooks at the front of your bra.

He took a moment to appreciate you, the soft, supple lines of your breasts a complete contrast to your toned shoulders and taught stomach, both the result of an extensive training regime.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He leaned over, kissing you softly, his lips tracing a track down your sternum before he softly took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue gently teasing, eyes flicking to your face to watch your reaction. 

You groaned at the sensation, rolling your head back on the pillow, hips bucking upwards as you let yourself go, barely daring to believe that his was happening, but just as you were questioning if you were in some elaborate dream, a low moan from above you caused your fluttering eyelids to jerk wide open. You could feel him hard, pushing against you and your hands moved round to his back.  You dragged your fingers up his spine, as his hand moved down, sliding into the waistband of your panties making your gasp as his fingers slipped into your folds. As he teased you, your hips began to move in time with his motions, groans falling from your lips as the heat began to build in between your legs, deep in your belly.

“Good?” Bucky’s voice was a rasp, and it was all you could do to do whimper softly, your head falling back further as your mouth dropped open, your entire body shuddering as the pleasure lanced through you. You reached down, grabbing his wrist and his eyes moved to yours, waiting.

“Want you.” You whispered softly. Almost as if he’d been waiting for that final bit of permission, Bucky’s fingers hooked into the top of your panties, gently sliding them down your legs, gathering your stockings as he went, a movement he had clearly perfected through goodness knows however many other clandestine liaisons. Discarding them to the floor, he wriggled his way out of his own underwear before he sat back on his heels and you moved, grabbing the packet he’d placed on the small bedside unit before.

Bucky groaned softly as your hands gently wrapped around his cock, sliding the condom down. It really shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was but he was almost ready to blow before he’d even started. Once it was on, he crawled back over you, his thighs gently parting yours a little further and with a steady, slow motion he slid into you, the sensation caused both of you to groan, your head falling back against the pillows as Bucky stretched you, his girth and length filling you completely.

"Fuuucckkk.” Bucky breathed out as your tight heat gripped him, his word little more than a whisper. He moved his hands to snake his fingers through yours, gently pinning your hands by the side of your head as he began to move his hips. He went slowly at first, picking up the speed slightly as you keened underneath him, his dog tags sliding in the valley between your breasts, the metal cold against your heated skin.

Your hips bumped together with every thrust he made and, with each rock into you, he was rubbing against that soft spot deep inside you. Your soft cries stuck in your throat, your senses completely overwhelmed as the fire in your body was raging white hot.

“James,” you whispered his name, and Bucky let out a low groan, his fingers tightened around yours as he gave a particularly deep thrust, making you purr in delight. He raised his head to capture your lips, plunging his tongue into your mouth before he released your hands, his own cupping your face as he continued to move.

In that moment, you could have been anywhere. In a hotel, surrounded by the finest silk sheets that money could buy or on some far away beach in the corner of the world, but instead you were led on a hard mattress in a military base, knowing full well you were in for some serious reprimand if you were caught, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the man who was currently undoing you piece by piece as the two of you were tangled in your own private dance.

The more Bucky gave, the more you wanted, and as he hiked your leg up round his waist, his fingers curling round the back of your knee you choked out another pant of his name, “James,” as you felt yourself nearing that point where you’d drop over that oh-so-steep cliff edge. The tips of your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, causing him to groan loudly, his head tipping backwards.

“You feel so good.” His voice was nothing but a whine, and at his praise you gave another low, sultry gasp, your breath now coming in ragged gasps. “God, Y/N,” he moaned loudly as you titled your hips, pushing back up against him, his head dropping slightly. “You close?” he gasped and you nodded softly, your lips falling open and once again he kissed you, hard, his movements speeding up ever so slightly.

“Don’t stop.” You begged, shaking your head as you grasped at his back, “please, so good.”

Bucky felt you shudder underneath him and a few thrusts later your back arched and a soft cry escaped your mouth as your eyes fluttered shut and your head tilted back, mouth open in a now silent scream. He could feel you tightening, pulsing around him as you came and that was it, enough to tip him straight over the edge behind you, the surge and ecstasy of his relief causing his whole body to stiffen as his hips faltered. A groan burst from his mouth as he gave a few final, sloppy thrusts before he collapsed forward, his head burrowing into your neck.

You both lay still for a moment, before Bucky regained enough composure to prop himself up, placing a soft kiss to your lips and as he pulled away slightly, he found you looking up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, heavy lidded eyes blinking slowly in your sated state, and he smiled at the fact you wore that just fucked look so damned well.

“You okay?” He asked softly and you nodded, a smile playing on your lips before you kissed him again.

“More than okay.” You grinned, your nails gently scratching at the nape of his neck. “You got moves, Sergeant.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he kissed you again, his lips hovering over yours. “Well you weren’t so bad yourself, Agent.”

*****

 “Nice of you to show up.” Colonel Phillips looked at you as you walked into the briefing room. “Late night, was it?”

“Sorry, Sir. I didn’t get much sleep.” You mumbled, avoiding Bucky’s eyes as he looked down at the table, a grin on his face.

“Huh, I could have sworn I saw you leaving the dance early.” Dum-Dum quipped and you shot him a glare as you took up a seat next to Peggy who licked her lips, fighting a smirk.

“Whatever, I’m not interested.” Phillips sniffed before he tossed a file down on the table in front of Steve who reached over to take it. “We have word that HYDRA are intending to move Arnim Zola.”

“Do we know where to?” Steve asked, looking at the file before he glanced up and Peggy shook her head.

“No, this is hot off the press so to speak. Stark’s team intercepted their encrypted broadcast. All we know is that they’re nervous about moving, and that the route has been carefully planned to avoid any long, open distances.”

“They’re going through the Alps.” Phillips moved to a map at the side of the room. “Trying to maintain a cover so to speak. Our surveillance team still has Zola at his current location, but that could change at any time. Captain, I need you to co-ordinate and mount an operation to intercept that train and apprehend him.”

“If you know where he is why can’t we just bust in and get him now?” Bucky asked.

“Because you’ll never get there in time.” Phillips replied. “As we understand he’ll be moving out in a couple of hours. So we’re up against it. The window of opportunity lies about six hours into his trip where there’s a slight break in the mountain cover.”

“How do we know this is kosher?” Falsworth took the file from Steve. “They could be leaving a false trail.”

“We hacked a number of broadcasts, each saying a different thing.” Peggy answered. “But this one held the code words we know HYDRA are using today.”

“And our codebreakers have never let us down before, so I’m willing to take a punt.” Phillips nodded. “Get to it, we don’t have much time.”

There was a flurry of movement around the table as you all stood up, Steve barking instructions at you all to collect what you needed and head to the transportation hub immediately as Dum-Dum mentioned something about zip wires and ambushing the train from above. As you all sidled out of the room, a hand gently closed over your arm and you turned to see Bucky as he fell into step besides you.

“Just so you know, I don’t normally make habit of splitting before breakfast.”

“Oh, you normally eat first?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He smirked and you gave a chuckle. “I just didn’t want you thinking-“

“It’s okay, I get it.” You assured him, and you did. He’d left in a flurry that morning before he could get caught sneaking out of the small room you had in the female quarters and you didn’t hold it against him at all. 

“But, I’d really like to take you out, properly, I mean. When we get chance.”

“You asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah.” Bucky stopped, turning to face you. “A real one this time.”

You smiled and nodded. “I’d like that. Oh, but just so you know, I don’t put out on a first date.”

“No? Then what was last night?”

You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. In all honesty, you had no idea what had come over you last night. You’d never behaved in a reckless manner with a man like that before and taken him home so easily, for fear of getting yourself a bad reputation. That said, you didn’t really care either. You were in the middle of a war, running dangerous missions, any of which could be your last. Life was for living, and as long as you were breathing, you intended on making the most of it.

You opened your mouth to explain this to Bucky, but you stopped yourself and instead you simply smiled at him, your eyes looking straight into those steel-blues which were sparkling with mischief.

“Doesn’t count, it wasn’t a real date.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Bucky arched an eyebrow and you nodded.

“Yup, that’s how it is.”

“Well,” He took a deep breath as the pair of you continued walking, “guess I’ll just have to show you a real good time when I get the chance.”

You snorted and shook your head. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He grinned as you reached the end of the corridor. “But, first we’ve got a German scientist to catch. Think you can contain yourself around me long enough to run a mission?”

“Okay, first off he’s Swiss.”

“What?”

“Zola, he’s Swiss. I don’t know why you all think differently, it’s in all the briefings and his file-“

“Yeah, I don’t read those.”

“Well you should, you might learn something. And second -“ you held your hand up, finger extended, instructing him to keep whatever wise crack he was about to make to himself, “-you’re not that irresistible.”

Bucky blinked before he gave a laugh and shook his head. “You know, I actually learned a fair bit last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I learned that you cut a mean rug, Doll-Face.” He glanced around, before he leaned closer, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered into your ear. “And that you look even better with your clothes off.”

With that he turned and headed off towards the equipment store, leaving you staring after him, blinking with shock, but feeling an overwhelming sense of smugness that, even in the middle of all this bloodshed and fighting, you had something to look forward to when you got back.

#ann1111fc #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #reader insert #captain america fanfiction #mcu fanfic

[shotsbyshae]

Coin-Operated Boy

Warnings: Language

Words: 1.3k

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: There’s a reason you don’t tell Steve about the project you’re working on for Tony.

Song: Coin-Operated Boy by The Dresden Dolls

A/N: This is just a short little Fun Friday one shot for my friend @sagechanoafterdark​ 2k followers challenge. Congrats!! Thank you for hosting this and giving me a change to use one my favorite songs and an idea that’s been in my head for a while now. 

I will never cry at night again.

2023

Insane.

That’s what most would call it.

Unethical.

Irresponsible.

The list could go on, but you like to call it something else.

Extraordinary.

You don’t take any of the credit.

After all, you only assisted in perfecting the technology.

Separately their projects had failed, but once you mentioned Leopold’s work in regard to the quantum brain theory, Tony was able to correct the flaws which had been the downfall of Ultron.

Thus, Project Gray was born and Stark carefully and secretively scanned every member of his team – with your help.

‘This is why we started the project.’

The saying became a mantra for you in the weeks following the battle as you worked endlessly in the makeshift lab which you’d converted your basement into. The extent of casualties could have been much more severe and none of you were ready for that.

The basement is quiet with the exception of your fingers methodically moving along the keyboard, running a series of diagnostics tests on the latest hardware update you’ve installed. You have a ballpoint pen dangling from your mouth, your tongue flicking it from one side to the other.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t hear him come down the stairs, only feel the warmth from his hands as he squeezes your shoulders. Thumbs pressing against the knots there below your neck as you tilt your head back to look up at him.

“Hi,” you smile before lifting your head back to look at the screen before you.

“You’ve been spending more time down here than Tony does,” Steve responds as he moves to stand beside you, leaning back against your worktable.

“Well,” you smile turning your attention to him. “You know an assistant’s job is never done.”

“Especially if you’re Tony’s,” he remarks sarcastically, pulling the pen from your lips. “What does he have you working on now?”

“Same project,” you say, watching him toss the pen on top of some papers beside him. “Did you see Nat today?” He nods, looking curiously at the top piece of paper he just tossed the pen onto. “How is she?”

“Good,” he responds, not really paying attention anymore as he lifts the paper which now has his attention and holds it up for you to see. “What’s an old S.H.I.E.L.D. file have to do with Tony’s project?”

You stand up slowly, taking the paper from him and point at the name on the letterhead, “Friend of mine. He went to the academy and he’s helping me out on this project. He’s coming by actually to look at a few things for me.”

“Oh, he is?” Steve says it with a judgmental tone as you lay the paper back down.

“You sound jealous,” you smirk up at him as he pulls you closer.

“Only thing I’m jealous of is this project of yours,” he comments. “It gets more of your attention than I do.”

Leaning up you press a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away with a smile, “Just a little longer, I’m waiting on him to go over a few things – then I’m all yours.”

Steve’s hands cradle your face for a moment, “Promise?”

“Promise.”

He leans in, deepening the kiss you initiated as his tongue slips past your lips. His pure want – need – for you makes you weak and suddenly you’re forgetting why you needed more time.

The sound of someone clearing their throat from the stairs halts your mini make-out session and you both turn to see a man standing there.

“Sorry, I knocked, but no one answered,” he says, a Scottish tone in his voice. “The door was unlocked, I figured you were down here.”

“It’s fine Fitz,” you remark, patting Steve’s chest lovingly. “Steve, this is Leopold Fitz. My friend I was telling you about.” Fitz approaches awkwardly as you introduce them.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve says, offering his hand to the man.

“Captain Rogers,” Fitz greets, shaking his hand while looking at him curiously as Rogers eyes him suspiciously. “Nice to meet you.”

Steve only nods, “I’ll let you two get to work.” He turns and places a quick kiss on your temple before he heads back upstairs.

“So,” you glance over at the man across from you with a smile. “How are things?”

“I just found out I have a grandson,” he responds, almost jokingly. “He’s our age.”

You furrow your brow and shake your head, “Yea – no.”

“Agreed,” Fitz nods. “Seriously though, how’s the project coming along?”

“Good, I did diagnostics earlier,” you remark. “I really think this is it Fitz. I mean between you and Tony, the two of you – what you were able to accomplish.” The smile on your face is infectious and Fitz begins to smile too. “It’s incredible – I wish everyone could know.”

“So, you haven’t told Steve,” Fitz looks at you, concern in his eyes. “About what you did.”

‘Swapping Tony with a Life-Model Decoy of himself, fully equipped with memories, capable of showing emotion, feeling pain – yea, not exactly pillow talk.’ You think to yourself as you rub the back of your neck.

Swallowing the lump in your throat you shake your head, “No – he wouldn’t understand.” You fold your arms across your chest. “It’s the whole reason Tony started Project Gray – to prevent casualties. If that had been Tony out there that day with Thanos, he’d be dead right now. The LMD is the reason he’s alive – Steve can’t see past Ultron and what he did.”

“I get that,” Fitz agrees before continuing. “And Romanoff?” He keeps his eyes trained on you. “How’s her LMD – have there been any glitches?”

You shake your head, “No – she’s perfect. Which is great and awful at the same time, because had I known I could have sent her to Vormir instead –” Your voice trails off with the surge of emotions.

“You couldn’t have known,” Fitz tries to reassure you, his voice softer as he moves closer to your workspace. “I am curious though – did you create more than one model of Romanoff.”

“No,” you respond. “I have one on stand-by for Tony though – why?”

“May I see it – him?” his politeness is genuine and very Fitz-like, so you reach for the controller to raise one of the blacked-out panels across the room from the two of you. Inside stands a Tony Stark LMD, dressed in black work out gear, head tilted down to his chest with his eyes closed as if he’s asleep.

Fitz nods his head slowly at the sight before reaching quickly to snatch the controller away from you.

You stare at him in shock, trying to take back the device, “What the hell, Fitz?”

“You’re my friend,” he begins calmly. “I’ve helped you – supported you.” The look of disbelief on his face is alarming. “What the bloody hell are you thinking?”

“What are you talking about?” you ask him in exasperation.

“I knew something was off,” he begins to ramble. “Before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, they sent his picture out – he was a fugitive or something – I don’t forget a face, but that was nearly ten years ago. Theoretically, he shouldn’t be –” Fitz places his hands on his hips defiantly. “Does Stark know?”

“About what?” you throw your hands up in the air.

The man lifts the device in his hand without breaking eye contact with you and presses the button a couple more times, lifting two more blacked-out panels. You clench your jaw, folding your arms across your chest as Fitz places his hand back on his hip before he finally breaks eye contact with you to turn and look at the containers.

Inside one stands a much younger looking Steve Rogers wearing his classic Captain America suit, while the other contains an older Steve with longer hair and a full beard, the suit much darker in color compared to the other.

Fitz turns back to you with a look of disbelief and a huff of frustration.

“What – one wasn’t enough? How long has Captain America been a bloody LMD?”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #captain america #marvel #mcu #avengers #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #tony stark #Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. #fanfic #Afterdark 2k Challenge #leopold fitz #fitz #dorian gray

[scuzmunkie]

Love is Blind: Chapter 1

A/N:  Ok my lovelies, here’s chapter 1. Again, this is my first time posting on tumblr so be gentle with me.... I bruise easily lol. This is a slightly AU, Seth, Dean, Roman and Renee still end up with the WWE. I’ve tried doing as much research as possible when it comes to the blind community. Also the ‘Amanda’ character is supposed to be Amanda Palmer. If you haven’t heard of her you should check her out!! I tell you this because it pertains to the story. I’ll try my hardest to do weekly updates!! Please let me know if there are any mistakes!! I tried tagging everyone who asked!! If I missed you please lmk asap!! Enjoy!!

Seth Rollins x Blind OC

Word Count: 3000+

Warnings: Swearing, a small altercation, talk of parents fighting, talk of a parent leaving. 

Summary: Seth was Lily’s world, she was foolish enough to think that she was his. That is until he leaves her behind in pursuit of his dreams. What happens when fate throws them together again years after the heartache and tears? How can Lily see past the pain of the past when she can’t see at all?

+++

“Are you sure you really wanna go to school here?!” Amanda asked as she helped Lily unpack the last of her boxes.

Lily couldn’t help but laugh at the whine in Amanda’s voice. “I’m very sure, not only does it have one of the best music programs but I also have a full ride scholarship so.... yeah Ms. Palmer, I’m staying.”

Amanda and Lily had been thick as thieves since the first grade when Amanda poured her chocolate milk on a second grader who had been picking on Lily.

“What about the area? It’s totally foreign to you! How will you learn it with out me?!”

“I’ll take daily walks, plus I have Siri.” She said holding up her iPhone.

“Ok... what about your classes?! Who will show you around?!”

“Nice try, the dean has already assigned someone to show me around. Next?”

Amanda was stumped, she wracked her brain for any and every excuse to keep her best friend from staying.

“Well.... what about me?! What the hell am I supposed to do without you?! Ya selfish piece of crap!!” She asked in desperation, hoping that good ol’ guilt would keep Lily by her side.

Giving Amanda a reassuring smile, she held out her hand. Amanda took the outstretched limb and was engulfed into a tight hug.

“I’ll miss you too, Mandy. Truth is, you’re going to do great things with your life!! I mean, you and Brian are gonna go far!! I can see it now, ‘The Dresden Dolls are the first music group to win 20 Grammies in one night!’ You’re gonna be famous!” Lily proclaimed as she held Amanda. Her smile faltered when she heard the unmistakable sound of sniffing.

“Oh Manda-Bear, please don’t cry! I’m only a call away!”

“I know but it’s not the same... I know that it seems like I take care of you a lot but in reality you’ve always had my back! How will I survive without my Lily-Pad?”

By now both girls were blubbering messes when Lily’s phone went off. She quickly cleared her throat and answered.

“Hello?” She asked, proud that her voice didn’t break.

“Hi, Lily Adams?”

“Speaking, may I ask who’s calling?”

“Of course! I’m Renee Young, I’ve been assigned to be your campus guide for the next few days.” Lily let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She was relieved that the voice on the other end sounded cheerful and sincere.

“Oh yes, hi! Thank you for taking the time to help me out. I promise I’m a fast learner so you won’t have to worry about spending too much time with me!”

Amanda reached over and gave Lily a firm pinch on her arm.

“Ouch!”

“Are you ok?!” Renee asked, slightly worried.

The red head scowled at her friend, well tried to at least. “I’m fine, just stubbed my toe.” She quickly answered while flipping Amanda the bird.  

“Stop thinking you’re a burden!” Amanda whisper yelled.

“Oh sorry about that. Ok, Dean Anderson already gave me your address so I’ll swing by your place tomorrow morning around 9am to pick you up and start the tour! I’ll take you to where all your classes will be, the best hangouts and show you all the sights- er, sorry I mean, um”

“That sounds great! I’m so excited, thank you so much!” Lily answered trying to reassure Renee that there was no harm done.

“Ok, I’ll call you tomorrow before I pick you up! See you, I mean, talk to you then! Bye!!”

“Bye!”

Lily laughed, she could’ve sworn she heard Renee cuss before hanging up.

“Let me guess, she said something she felt was totally insensitive and started freaking out?” Amanda piped in once Lily set her phone down. She could hear the sarcasm dripping from her friends mouth.

“Be nice, it’s not everyday people meet someone like me. She was just trying to be polite. Now, what are the chances of you helping me decorate?”

“Hmm... buy me pizza and a beer and I’ll be your very own Martha Stewart!”

About two pizzas and four and a half beers later Lily and Amanda had almost everything put in its place, there was just one last detail.

“Do you remember when you got that?” Amanda asked as she watched Lily open the last box and gently run her fingers over the old keyboard.

“Of course, it’s one of my favorite memories. I scraped and saved for months only to have you surprise me by buying it for my birthday.” She smiled at the memory as she pulled it out while Amanda assembled the stand and small bench that came with it.

“It’s gonna be weird not having you play for me on stage anymore.” Amanda said with a sigh. Lily hugged her for the hundredth time that night.

“I know but you’re just as good at playing the piano as I am if not better. Plus people totally dig an artist who can sing and play at the same time!! I mean, Elton John does it and the audience eats that shit up!”

“I do like Sir Elton.” Amanda said earning a giggle from Lily.

They settled on Lily’s bed and spent the remainder of the night talking until sleep inevitably took them both.

—-

“Well, I guess this is it.” Amanda said trying hard not to cry.

“Oh my gosh, I’m not dying, we’ll see each other again!!”

The two girls held each other for what felt like an eternity.

“Ugh, ok, I’ve got a flight to catch and you’ve got a campus tour in an hour!! Scoot that cute tush back to your room. I’ve already laid out an outfit for you, complete with your favorite pair of aviators and I placed your cane right next to your clothes!”

“You spoil me too much. Thank you so much tho! I love you so m-much. Damn it!! I almost made it through th-that with out crying.” Lily said as she felt the dam begin to break. She felt Amanda run her thumbs on her cheeks wiping the tears away.

“I love you too, baby cakes.” Amanda began to walk away but turned abruptly and cupped Lily’s cheeks and whispered “Remember, you’re not just a blind girl, you’re an amazing badass who doesn’t take shit from anyone! Say it!”

“I’m a badass.” Lily mumbled.

“What?”

“I’m a badass!”

“Come again?”

“I’M A BADASS!!!” She yelled out, praying that her neighbors didn’t hear her.

“Hell yeah you are!”

With that Amanda kissed her on the forehead and went on her way. Lily counted the steps as she heard her best friend walk out of her new home. Before she could become a sobbing mess she heard her phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hi Lily, it’s Renee, just calling to let you know that I’ll be there in about 45 minutes.”

“Perfect, thank you again!!”

“No problem!! Bye!”

“Bye”

Grateful for the distraction, Lily sprang into action, quickly throwing on her clothes and aviators. With one hand she ran her fingers through her hair while the other felt around for her cane. Just as she straightened it out she heard a knock at the door.

“Coming!” She shouted as she felt for her phone and purse. “Ok Lily, you can do this, twenty one steps from your room to the door.”

Opening the front door to her apartment she was greeted with a soft sent of a sweet floral perfume.

“Hi!! I’m Renee!” She said eagerly stretching her hand out, rolling her eyes when she realized that Lily couldn’t see her gesture and gently took her hand giving it a friendly shake.

“Nice to finally meet you!” Lily said with an excited smile.

“Same here, shall we?”

“Lets.”

—-

By the end of the tour Renee and Lily had talked a lot and formed a friendship in no time. Renee transferred here from Canada and was majoring in journalism. She was currently in a relationship with one of the students on the wrestling team named Dean Ambrose. They walked arm in arm towards the final stop of the day.

“And this is where you’ll most likely be spending a lot of your time.” Renee said as she led Lily to the music department. There she showed her all of the practice rooms, the majority of them equipped with pianos.

“I can’t thank you enough for showing me around! I’ve had so much fun!” Lily said giving Renee’s arm a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all! I had fun to-HEY!” Lily gasped as she felt Renee’s arm being pulled from her grasp.

“Well, well, well,” said a deep, raspy voice “what do we have here?” Lily began to panic, it was bad enough that she couldn’t see what was happening, but she hated feeling useless! She frantically reached into her purse and pulled out her cane. She had put it in there once Renee took her arm. Before she could start swinging aimlessly, she heard Renee giggling.

“Damn it Dean! You scared the hell outta me!”

“I’m sorry doll, but you know I can’t resist sweeping you off your feet.” He chuckled.

Calming her breathing and lowering her cane, Lily began to notice the details about Dean. He smelt like leather and cigarettes with a subtle hint of soap, telling her nose that he had just recently showered. She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of them kissing. She scrunched her nose and giggled before she could stifle it.

Renee quickly pulled away from Dean.

“Sorry, Lily, this is my boyfriend Dean, Dean meet Lily! She’s starting here this semester!”

Dean looked Lily over, taking notice of her sunglasses and cane. Putting two and two together he reached for her hand, giving it a quick shake. Lily smiled, shaking his hand back as she felt the calluses on his hand.

“Welcome darlin’. “

“Thanks, nice to meet you. Renee told me you’re a wrestler?”

“Yes ma’am, you a fan?” He asked while Renee gently elbowed him.

“Ouch, what was that for?” He asked totally, missing Renee’s hand signals trying to quiet him.

‘She can’t see, why would she be a fan of wrestling?’ She mouthed.

Lily, sensing the awkwardness, spoke up in hopes of easing the tension.

“I am actually.”

If she wasn’t blind, she’d see both their heads snap in her direction, mouths agape. After a few seconds, Dean finally broke the silence.

“I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but how exactly? I mean it’s kind of a watching sport.”

“Well, believe it or not, each move has a distinct sound. My mom and I used to watch wrestling on tv together. My best friend Amanda and I also frequented the local indie circuit back home. She’d give me a play by play but most of the time I knew what was happening.”

“Well, hell darlin’, you should come check us out sometime!!” Dean bellowed as he wrapped his arm around Lily’s shoulders.

“Oh my gosh, that would be so fun!” Renee said, her voice laced with excitement, “You’d have so much fun!”

Just as she was about to answer, Lily’s stomach let out a growl that could put King-Kong to shame. She felt a blush slowly creep up her neck and spread to her face.

“Damn Renee, I think someone’s hungry.”

It was only then that both girls realized they hadn’t stopped for lunch and it was as nearly 6pm.

“Ok, I think now would be the best time to show you the cafeteria.” Renee said with a laugh.

“That’d be awesome.” Lily said just as her stomach decided to make itself heard again. Assuming Renee would want to hold Dean’s hand, Lily opted to use her cane instead of relying on Renee’s arm.

—-

As the three of them made their way to the cafeteria, Lily heard a new set of footsteps accompanied with a scent of smooth cologne.

“Thanks for leaving without me, Uce.” said an unbelievably deep voice.

“Sorry Ro, I was helping the little lady escort Lily here to the cafeteria. Lily, this is Roman, he sounds like a bear but deep down he’s a gentle giant.”

Lily turned in the direction of Roman’s voice, hoping to shake his hand, but was stopped short when she felt her cane snag something... or rather someone.

“What the fu-“ this person said followed by a thud. Lily couldn’t help but flinch and cringe a bit knowing that she was the cause of someone getting hurt.

“I am so sorry!” She said quickly trying to feel for whoever she almost took out. Her hands landed on a well toned bicep as well as an intoxicating scent of aftershave and sweat. Before she could help whoever it was up she felt them shake off her hands and heard an irritated growl.

“Get the hell off me!” He said angrily.

Lily felt her eyes water. ‘Way to go Lily, making a great first impression...’ she mentally scolded herself.

“Easy Seth, it was an accident man.” Roman said as he reached down to help his friend up, trying his best to keep his temper in check when Seth slapped his hand away.

“Right.”  He said as he dusted himself off, turning towards Lily as he spoke.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going next time?” He seethed. Dean, Roman and Renee all tensed at his poor choice of words. It wasn’t his fault tho, he hadn’t known that Lily was blind.

“Believe me, I wish I could.” She said with a sad smile.

Sensing that Seth was about to say something hurtful, Dean quickly got his attention, unceremoniously placed his hands over his eyes while shaking his head ‘no’ trying his hardest to signal to his friend that Lily couldn’t see. Of course Seth, being the hot head that he was, just shook his head muttering a ‘whatever’ and walked away.

Lily bit her bottom lip, in a desperate attempt to stop it from quivering, when she felt a large hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about him baby girl,” Roman said gently “he’s just pissed off because coach gave him a hard time today.”

Renee rolled her eyes saying “Please, he’s always in a bad mood. Are you ok Lily?” She asked, coming to Lily’s side and hugging her.

Not trusting her voice, she simply nodded and allowed Roman to lead her into the cafeteria.

Having lost her appetite she just moved her food around with her fork.

As she sat with her new three friends, they took the opportunity to study her, she wasn’t that tall, maybe 5’3”, deep red hair and ivory skin. She was a petite little thing. Roman, having enough of this awkward silence, spoke up. “So Lily, tell us about yourself.”

“Oh, well, I graduated from high school about two years ago and took time off to play for my friend Amanda. She’s a singer trying to get her music career started. Have you ever heard of the Dresden Dolls?” She asked. It was a long shot but you never know.

“No.” Both Dean and Roman answered in almost perfect unison.

“I have!” Renee almost yelled “Do they sing Coin Operated Boy?!”

Lily almost choked on her soda. She couldn’t believe that someone knew of them!

“Yes!! I played the piano on that track! What a small world!”

“That’s awesome!” Renee exclaimed, “where did you learn to play?”

“I started when I was about 6, my mom said I needed a distraction after my- I mean...” Lily cleared her throat and started chugging her drink.

Dean, having no tact at all, took it upon himself to ask what no one else would.

“After What darlin’?”

Lily sighed, it was going to come out any way, might as well be now.

“After my dad left us. He didn’t like the fact that he was trapped with a ‘defective’ daughter so he took off with his 21 year old secretary, but not before having a huge screaming match with my mom. That’s one of the downsides of being blind, your other senses are heightened so I heard every word.”

A bastard tear fell down her cheek as she recalled the painful memory. She reached up to wipe it away but was beaten by Roman’s thumb.

“It’s his loss baby girl. He’s a fool for leaving you and your mom.”

“Thanks, um so. What about you guys?” She asked, changing the subject, “what do you guys look like?”

She learned that Dean was 6’4”, Caucasian, blue eyes, well built, with dirty blonde hair, Renee was just a few inches taller than Lily, hazel eyes, fair skinned as well with light blonde hair and Roman was 6’3”, Samoan, tan skin, brown eyes, long dark brown hair, and (according to Dean) was built like an Adonis.

“Wow, you all sound like you could be models!”

“Well, darlin’, when you’re rockin’ next to nothin’ when wrestling, you gotta look good.” Dean said as Roman laughed in agreement.

“You should come to one of our shows! It’d be fun!” Dean said, scooping the last of his chowder into his mouth.

“Maybe one day!” Lily said yawning. “Renee, I’m so sorry but would you mind taking me back to my place? I’m still a little jet lagged.”

“Of course!”

Roman helped Lily outta her seat and the four of them left. They said their goodbyes and Lily made her way up to her apartment.

“Alexa, play messages.” Lily called out as she threw her keys and purse on the table.

“You have one new message from Manda-Bear:

‘Hey Lily-Pad, just wanted to let you know that I made it back safely and I miss you already. You had better call me when you wake up and tell me all about your day or so help me I’ll jump back on a plane and come kick your adorable ass!! I love you... call me!!’

Lily smiled and made a mental note to call Amanda in the morning. She couldn’t help but feel completely alone at the moment. Not to mention she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t even been on campus for a full 24 hours and already she made a fool of herself. One thing was for sure, she was going to do her best to steer clear of this Seth guy.

“Alexa, what time is it?”

“It is 11:42pm”

Groaning she did the only thing that calmed her down when she was antsy. Sitting at the her keyboard she began playing the Moonlight Sanata. After 15 minutes of playing she was interrupted by someone pounding on her front door. She quickly ran to her door, not before grabbing her pocket knife, and swung open the door, stiffening when she was met with the same scent she smelt when she tripped Seth.

“Oh shit...” Seth mumbled under his breath.

“Can I help you?” Lily asked with a sigh.

“Yeah, I’m trying to sleep so could you keep the damn noise down?!” He said annoyed realizing that they were neighbors.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll do....” before she could finish she couldn’t help but hear Amanda’s words from earlier ‘you’re an amazing badass who doesn’t take shit from anyone’.

“Hello?!” He said, snapping his fingers in front of her face, a mistake on his part. With lightning speed, Lily grabbed his wrist and threw it back at him.

“Look,” She said pointing a finger at him, “I’m sorry about earlier and I’m sorry about the noise but you have no right to act like a prick! Now,” she took a deep breath, calming down “come in for a drink and we can start over.” Giving him her friendliest smile she moved out of the way to let him in.

A very stunned Seth stood there looking at her.  No one, let alone a woman, had ever spoken to him like that. It didn’t sit well with him. Not one bit.

“No thanks, I’ve got an early class.” And with that he retreated back to his apartment.

Embarrassed, she shut her door and went beck to her room. She wanted to be mad, she really did but being blind had its advantages. She depended greatly on her hearing when having conversations to pick up on social cues. She sensed something deeper in Seth’s voice, something he tried desperately to hide: insecurity. To everyone else he portrayed himself as a cocky athlete who was God’s gift to women, but Lily could hear past that. As she laid down she couldn’t help but feel an infatuation with him. She knew what it was like to pretend to be strong on the outside while vulnerable on the inside. Smiling to herself she decided that instead of avoiding him, she’d make it her goal to befriend him and lift him up. She closed her eyes and welcomed a dreamless sleep, excited for the new day.

@haven-raven012591 @wrestlingfae @calwitch @neversatisfiedgirl @lost-in-the-stories

#seth rollins #seth rollins x oc #blind!oc #female oc #dean ambrose #roman reigns #renee young #amanda palmer #the dresden dolls #angst #fluff #slow burn #wwe #wwe imagine #wwe angst #wwe fanfiction #seth rollins angst #seth rollins imagine #seth rollins fanfic

[vertigoambrosia]

i applied to three jobs today so i definitely deserve to watch true colors

this is a dumb thing for me to say at the beginning of this show, but dresden looks really pretty

who this new boy commentating

where’s alan

oh! this event theme is different - so far i like it

lol i already forgot jayfk’s actual theme despite hearinf it two or three times

a lil surprised they opened with the tag title match

lax stands for latin american exchange, but it is also the short name of the los angeles airport so i constantly have to remind myself that they are Not Californian

ACTUALLY santana and ortiz are from nyc :)

robert and julian are so cute

woah wait that’s not tommy announcing either! WHY THE NEW VOICES

(i would say i wonder what happened to rico, but half of the time he’s off on vacation so....)

(probably not the best decision to go on vaycay during fucking 16 carat)

dammit i can’t differentiate christian and andy’s voices

(i am very bad at this, to be fair - a lot of the times when i start a podcast it takes me forever to remember which voice is who)

omg this whole julian and ortiz sequence is fucking amazing

calling wxw ‘dub ex dub’ really bothers me for no reason

yaaaaaaaay monster consulting!

i got spoiled on twitter but good for them!

ok ngl i am already biased against audrey bride b/c she’s doing the tired as fuck ‘i’m a diva’ pose

also meh on the kill bill aesthetic but that’s not really important

i do hope this isn’tthe only time we see her though; we need more regular women and not just one time opponents

yeah ok cmj it’s not great on commentary to start with ‘i don’t really know her that well’

‘she’s not a barbie doll or anything, she’s showing women are capable of fighting’ shut the fuck up andy

[that annoyed me enough that i paused the video to type it]

see i wish we at least got like, a lil promo video from audrey, or millie before the match, because commentary keeps talking about their characters and skills but it doesn’t always come across in a first match

also: characters! i like them

also it means more to know these competitors instead of just ‘if kelly beats enough randos she’ll get another title shot’ - when we really know someone’s skilled/dangerous, the win means more

damn kelly has a nice fucking bridge

oh wow shortcut is in august this year? i was wondering why it wasn’t lisen on this tour

i guess they’re making it the tour opening now?

lucky makes me smile every time he exists

who tf is tko

ok that[s not fair actually he def appeared on a shotgun match once cause i remember saying almost the exact same thing

i like the idea of mack’s blue jacket, but with his trunks it’d be better in a much darker blue

LMAO RISE IS POOP EMOJI

i have no use for a track suit but a small part of me wishes i had bought a rise tracksuit

is that a yankees hat in orange? not like, mets orange

oh lucky

it’s not your turn yet!

he’s canadian why tf is he wearing that fake yankees hat

��the mack...what a sad story’ THE DRAMA

argh i want to ask what you guys think of this andy commentator guy but you all just watch the german version, don’t you?

there’s something about the..idk the speed or rythym of his speech that seems awkward for commentary

but also i might just not be used to his accent

lmao lucky’s so excited..but mack is too srs to acknowledge it

LMAO THAT DRAMATIC ASS TURN

haaaaay peeete

with his jacket open and shirtless, of course

oh shit!!!! oh shit!!! did rise just turn on mack?

awwwwwwwwwwwwww ivan hugged pete :3

now rise is, good

also love how lucky insists on his lil finger thing

the boyfriends are back together :)

i love marius to death but his raiden from mortal kombat look is kinda cringey as hell

marius vs glacier for joey janela’s spring break 3 book it

oh no the old andy dudes went to dresden!

it’s late and my attention wandered but i’m back

????

tlcf match?

is the fan going tobecome important later or is this the match equivalent of that painting

lmao wtf

i have to gif this later

that was a pretty fan too

i hope someday i can go to a wxw show adn sit down

wtf was andy trying to do with that ladder it wouldn’t reach anyway

tfw there’s only one ladder tall enough

ok this is fun and all but boys

wtffffff he just killed him with the chair

no andy i didn’t want you to get the ladder

get reckt andy

this is the only thing about ladder matches; there’s cool action, but then the setup that interrupts shit

gotta go get the ladder

gotta open the ladder all the way

whoops i got dropkicked and the ladder has fallen out of the ring

gotta set up the ladder again

hmm where did that ladder go

BOOOOOOO

BOO THIS BAD MAN

can you climb a ladder without your hands?

APPARENTLY?

BITE THAT TITLE SHOT

god that is actually terrifying

hahahaha fucking security

watch, andy will claim interference if marius wins

AUF DIE FRESSEN

[i probably spelled that wrong but you know what i mean!]

what wtf did christian just say?

‘he’s like the nugget, you can’t flush it, every time it returns’

i’m laughing so fucking hard

i mean i’m assuming it’s just something that didn’t translate well

but that doesn’t make it any less funny

marius nooooooo

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

lmao look at christian’s face he is Not Pleased

not that i don’t want ivan to have a match, but why did they keep it a 4-way?

though actually i guess i like having a multiman as a #1 contender match as opposed to a title match

sup eyeliner prince

look how happy ivan is to be back with pete!

and look how happy lucky is to exist and touch people’s fingers

i like mark davis but his nickname is dumb and so is his hat

omg rise are so cute now with bones and mack gone

i really like lucky and ivan being friendly rivals

lmao mark davis is all ‘fuck your lil curtsy spot’

what the fuck is going on here

did aj start calling that rains of castemere after he became buddies with jurn? did he do it to impress jurn?

mark davis if i stop insulting your nickname will you not kill lucky

he’s my baby boy

oh no ivan died

ilja made a motivation post yesterday and the belt wasn’t in it and now i’m irrationally worried he lost it

which like, it’s not like i’d be mad walter was champ

but i want ilja to have a nice long reign

ok this theme is a good entrance theme, but it does get tiring

i guess most themes with lyrics do pretty easily

oh, felix is doing a title match?

did ilja wrestle the night before or his is chest just like that now

*ilja voice* fuck me up walter

‘walter has no regard for human life’ ok andy that was sufficiently dramatic

HOLY SHIT THOSE PUSHUPS ILJA IS THE EMPEROR OF BEING EXTRA

*ilja voice*  sometimes the skin on my chest falls off but i consume it to recapture the energy from my cells

legit got worried at that sleeper spot

oh ok that’s why tas isn’t doing this one - he needed a night off from getting rekt

not sure why the ref bump was needed though

OH SHIT

walter u can’t win a title if the refs are dead!!!!!

awww now tas has to come out

*tas voice* BOTH OF YOU GO TO YOUR ROOMS

FUCK these near falls are killing me

jesus fucking  christ

it’s 2:45am and i have to go to work tomorrow but lol if i’m able to go to bed after that

[hellsangelsheavensrejects]

The Purgatory Files: Fear Itself

Warnings for violence, gore, and child endangerment.

Prologue

Sam Bennington knew that there was something weird about Purgatory. She had seen things, things that haunted her dreams, things that a seven-year-old girl should have never been subjected to seeing. She had tried once to tell her parents, but they had told her she'd been having a nightmare.

But she knew the truth.

There was a boogie man living in her closet. And it wanted to eat her, her brother, her sister, her mother and father, and even her dog. She didn't think it could do that, at least not yet, because it hadn't done it so far. It liked to make threats, and loved to terrify her. She was certain that the blood-soaked dreams she had every single night were created by its whispers.

They had moved into the house three months ago, and it had been waiting, peering down at her with yellow eyes, its black mouth peeled back into a rictus grin. It looked exactly like the boogie man she used to have nightmares about when she was little. She had thought she'd outgrown those nightmares, now that she was more grown up, but it seemed to have simply stepped out of her dreams and into reality.

She lay in bed in the darkened room, watching her closet, her heart pattering in her chest, cold sweat breaking out in prickles across her clammy skin. Her daddy had plugged a small night light into the wall beneath her desk, and it always illuminated the room until the boogie man came. Oh, it didn't stop glowing. Its light just didn't seem capable of breaking through the thick, suffocating darkness that crept into the room as It approached.

The boogie man stood over her bed and grinned at her. She pulled her covers over her head. It didn't make the boogie man go away, and didn't really help ease her fears, but it was better than staring up at it as it laughed at her and whispered nightmares to her. She screamed when the boogie man, with a sudden, powerful movement, yanked her blankets from the bed and tossed them across the room. It had never done that before. It had never been able to touch before.

Her parents came then, and this time, they saw the monster their little girl had tried to tell them about, but by then it was too late, because by then it was strong enough to kill. It killed Sam's mother first, gutting her. Then it turned on her father, flaying him alive with its razor claws. It killed her brother and her sister, and then it ate her dog.

But it did not kill Sam. It leaned down, smiling, its lips now red with blood, and took a long whiff of her.

And then it vanished, leaving her alone amongst the mutilated corpses of her family.

Wynonna

The copper tinged scent of blood hung in the air, greeting her before she crossed the threshold proper. Wynonna Earp wasn't any stranger to carnage. But the scene she was at gave the word a whole new meaning.  She was glad that she hadn't had the forethought to actually try and eat breakfast since the single cup of coffee was practically somersaulting in her stomach.

Harry

The gorge rose in the back of Harry's throat as he entered the bedroom behind Wynonna, flanked by the mountain of grey fur that was his dog Mouse. No matter how many times he saw this kind of gory tableau, he always had this violently instinctive reaction of nauseous horror.

Harry swallowed carefully as he took in the details of the scene. It looked like a horror movie, one of the really over-the-top gory ones that displayed every horrific detail in vivid technicolor. But this wasn't a movie. It was real.

And the little girl he had seen trembling in the front yard, wrapped in a blanket and accompanied by an EMT as she sat perched on the back of an ambulance, had seen it all. He didn't even want to think about how that sort of thing could scar a young child, to not only have her whole world ripped from her, but in such a violent and gruesome manner.

She wasn't talking yet. At all. Whatever she had seen had left her too damaged to speak.

Harry put a hand on Mouse's head. After he'd recovered enough from the bullet wound he'd sustained on his first day in Purgatory, he'd taken a train back to Chicago to collect the giant Foo dog, as well as to make sure his cat Mister was properly taken care of in his absence. It had been like pulling teeth, getting the manager of the little rat motel he got a room at to allow the big furball to stay with him, but he'd finally managed to get a little cooperation with a couple twenty dollar bills and a promise that Mouse would be a paragon of good behavior. It was a good thing the BBD had him on retainer. Mouse was quiet and somber. Whatever danger that had been here had gone.

The striking redheaded deputy-- Nicole Haught, he remembered-- was crouched by one of the bodies, her mouth tightened in a grim line. Dolls stood beside her. They both looked over as Harry and Wynonna entered the room, and Nicole rose to her feet.

Dolls' voice was low and cool when he spoke. "Good of you to finally join us, Dresden. Earp."

"Rush hour traffic was a bitch," Harry said when he could be reasonably sure he wouldn't expell the contents of his stomach when he opened his mouth. "There were three whole cows in the road. Don't you people believe in fences?" In truth, they had stopped by the motel to pick up Mouse.

Wynonna

In any other circumstance Wynonna would have easily popped off to Dolls abut her tardiness. Her thoughts flicked to the little girl. The one who had seen every goddamned thing that had been done to her family. That had been her and Waverly once upon a nightmare. The thought of doing so here, amongst all the stench and carnage of death, it seemed wrong. She nodded at the Marshal and slipped her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket.

Dolls watched Harry a moment, his eyes narrowing when he took in the excessively large dog standing silently beside him. Hmm.

Wynonna ignored Harry's attempt at a joke and nodded toward the body Nicole had just been looking over.  "What the hell happened here?"

Harry

“Four-person homicide. Two adults, male and female, aged thirty-five and thirty. Two minors, male and female, aged twelve and fifteen. All of them appear to have been killed with something sharp and bladed, but we haven't found a murder weapon yet.” Dolls' face was a remote mask as he started rattling off details, but something about the way he held himself told Harry that the BBD Deputy Marshall was deeply disturbed. He tilted his head towards the ambulance without looking at it. “Girl was a witness. She did manage to comunicate that she saw everything, but she's not elaborating yet. Actually, she's not talking at all.”

“That's because she's in shock,” Nicole said quietly, looking a little green around the gills. Harry could commiserate. “Seeing your whole family butchered will do that to a kid.”

Harry nodded, swallowing against another wave of nausea. He didn't want to do this. He really, really didn't want to do this. The Sight was a powerful, useful gift, but it always came with a price. Whatever he saw with his Wizard's Sight was forever burned into his mind, his memory, every horrific detail. But there was a little girl back there whose life had been forever changed, who would probably be in therapy for the rest of her life, therapy which likely wouldn't even begin to overcome the trauma she had endured.

And then there was the very real possibility that whatever had killed her family would come back to finish the job with her.

He would do this for Samantha Bennington.

“Let me walk through the house,” he said. “I can... see things that your team may have missed. Impressions. Memory imprints. Residual energies. That kind of thing.”

Wynonna

With her hands still in her pocket--no one could see them shake if they were out of sight--she nodded as Dolls went through the details of the case. Her gaze moved from the slaughter to Nicole and Dolls. That helped calm the somersaults in her stomach down to little fire drill rolls instead. Still there. Still messing with her. But easier to focus.

Harry spoke up and Doll's jaw locked, a small wave of annoyance running through him. The guy had a habit of coming into a room and ordering people around in a way that had no respect for the chain of command. Less than Wynonna, even. And while he'd gotten used to her brand of impulsiveness he wasn't a fan of Dresden's. "Gloves," he rumbled before the other man could take a step.

Wynonna barely registered the fact that there was a low key territory stand off between her boss and Harry, her eyes travelling back over the scene in front of them. On the wall was a bright, cheerful handmade poster: WELCOME TO PURGATORY! She turned slightly. "They were new?"

#nowmakeyourpeace #arc: The Purgatory Files #Fear Itself #to be continued... #Discord RP archives

[snapadoodlez]

12th Doctor series playlists: series 8 & ‘Last Christmas’

Here is the final playlist I’ve made in my Twelfth Doctor series playlist collection (until the 2017 Christmas Special, that is). This one is for Peter’s very first season as Twelve: Series 8 and ‘Last Christmas’.  Similar to my other playlists, it’s organized so that the listener can (more-or-less) relive the story by listening to it from beginning to end.  

The Spotify link can be found here:  https://open.spotify.com/user/sirenssongs/playlist/3edfNpeuti7HQDR1xcrYCt

As in Series 8, the emotional arcs here are Clara & Twelves’s new dynamic, Clara & Danny’s relationship, Twelve’s self-discovery, and the new Twissy chapter in the on-going doctor/master saga. Fair warning: this is the most heavily“Broadway” out of the Twelve Series playlists, but I think it works for re-telling the story.

I’ve included the full track-list and guide below the “Keep Reading” line. I know I’m going to miss Peter dreadfully, so hopefully this’ll be a nice easy way relive his incredible run as The Doctor. I’ll probably do an embedded version later and a master-post with all the ‘Twelve’ playlists soon:  In the meantime, enjoy!

*Note:  I realize the last song, “When You’re Home”, also starts out the s9 playlist: I thought it bridged the gap between the two really well, and I couldn’t decide where to put it. So both playlists it is! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

1. Sparks - The Who

“Any moment now, he’s a coming… but times change, and so must I.” “I think it’s going to be a whopper.”

2. Why Can’t the English? - My Fair Lady 

“Have you regenerated? I remember you. You're Handles. You used to be a little robot head, and now...you've really let yourself go.”

“Why do you keep talking like that? What's gone wrong with your accent? You sound the same. It's spreading. You all sound all English. Now you've all developed a fault.”

“Oh no, that's good... I'm Scottish… I can complain about things, I can really complain about things.” 

3. Just You Wait - My Fair Lady

“No. Don't. Don't smile. I will smile first and then you know it's safe to smile.” “Are you cross with me?” “I am not cross. But if I was cross it would be your fault and. Yes, I am cross.”

“Nothing is more important than my egomania.”

4. Poor Baby – Company

“Well, if neither of us placed that ad, who placed that ad?”

Missy plays matchmaker. * 

*In my head for this song, she’s droning on and on about the Doctor’s loneliness to Seb. Oh Seb... you sassy Interface... how I miss you.

5. I Don’t Know His Name - She Loves Me

“The Doctor regenerated in your presence. The young man disappeared, the veil lifted. He trusted you. Are you judging him?” “I am not sure who you think you're talking to right now, Madam Vastra, but I have never had the slightest interest in pretty young men... Just because my pretty face has turned your head, do not assume that I am so easily distracted.”

“When did you stop wearing your veil?” “When you stopped seeing it.”

6. Nobody Knows You (When You’re Down and Out) - Leslie Odom Jr.

“You look at me, and you can't see me. Have you any idea what that's like? Please, just see me.”

7. Something There - Beauty and the Beast

“Thank you.” “For what?” “Phoning.”

“I..I don't think that I'm a hugging person now.” “I'm not sure you get a vote.”

8. Roll Away Your Stone - Mumford & Sons

“Clara, be my pal and tell me... am I a good man?”

9. Mix Tape - Avenue Q

“Er… are you going to the leaving thing tonight for Cathy?” 

“Um……No, I'm not.” 

“Oh, okay, never mind.” 

“Good night.” 

“Change your mind…I'm going… I'll give you a lift. Why not?” 

10. Tonight At Eight - She Loves Me

“Are you going to look that terrified when you take me out for a drink?” “I… I absolutely promise I won't.” “Play your cards right and you might.”

11. Tango Tragique - She Loves Me

“I am trying to have a date. A real life, inter-human actual date! It's a normal nice, everyday, meeting-up sort of thing. And I would just like to know, is there any other way you can make this any more surreal than it already is?”

“I made a joke.” “A not-funny joke.” “Yeah, well, do you know what I'm making now?” “A fuss?” “An exit.” 

12. Ice Cream (Reprise) - She Loves Me

“Hello. I'm Clara Oswald. I'm a bit tricky, sometimes a bit up myself, but I think that's basically everything you need to worry about.”

“Hello.  I’m...I’m sorry.”

 “Also, I mouth off when I'm nervous and I've got a mouth on me. Seriously, it's got a mind of its own. I’m really worried it wants to go solo.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.  Or say something nice.”

13. Valley Forge (Demo) - Lin-Manuel Miranda (The Hamilton Mixtape)

"You loved the army.” "Yep. And then one day I didn't.” 

“When did you get to become so wise?” “Same way as anyone else. I had a really bad day.”

Danny has memories he’d rather forget.

14. An Open Letter (feat. Shockwave) - Watsky (The Hamilton Mixtape)

“Look, take him away. Shut him up, shut him down. Up or down, it doesn't matter to me. I've got a lot of work to do. Again. “ “Will you be okay?” "Why wouldn't I be okay? I was fine till you two blundered in.”

"How stupid do you think I am?” 

"I'm willing to put a number on it.” 

“Well, is there anything I can do?” 

“Yes. Yes, and this is very, very important. Leave us alone!”

“When this is all over, you can finish the job.”  “How do you mean?”  “Well, you've explained me to him. You haven't explained him to me.”

15. Enough - In The Heights

“Now, Time Lords, do you salute those?” “Definitely not...And you can get out of my Tardis!” “Immediately, sir.” “Doctor, this is stupid, this is unfair!”

“Do you love him?”

“No.”

“Really had enough with the lies.”

“Not in that way.”

“If he ever pushes you too far, I want you to tell me, because I know what that's like. You'll tell me if that happens, yeah?” “Yeah, it's a deal.” “No. It's a promise.” “Okay. I promise.” 

Clara is soooo over it.  And so is Danny.

16. Sunrise - In The Heights

“I am so…” 

“I know.” 

“And I just get nervous.” 

“Me too.” 

“I don't even know what I'm nervous of…”

“I'll show you. So, listen. If you listen to nothing else, listen to this...” 

17. Ain’t It Fun – Paramore

“There are moments in every civilization's history in which the whole path of that civilization is decided... Whatever future humanity might have depends upon the choice that is made right here and right now... Kill it. Or let it live. I can't make this decision for you.”

18. Get Gone - Fiona Apple

Don't you dare lump me in with the rest of all the little humans that you think are so tiny and silly and predictable. You walk our Earth, Doctor, you breathe our air. And you can damn well help us when we need it. 

Go on. You can clear off. Get back in your lonely, your lonely bloody Tardis and you don't come back. 

19. There’s a Fine, Fine Line - Avenue Q

“I'm done, I'm done. I am finished with it...It's over. I'm finished with him, and I told him that. What is that face for? Why don't you believe me?” “Because you're still angry. You can never finish with anyone while they can still make you angry.” 

20. A Hymn To Him - My Fair Lady

“No, that was me allowing you to make a choice about your own future. That was me respecting you.” “Oh, my God, really? Was it? Yeah, well, respected is not how I feel.” “Right... Okay...”

“Human emotions are confusing.” - Twelve (probably)*

*Note: for the purposes of this playlist, you can just replace “woman” with “human” and “man” with “timelord” for this song (Henry Higgins’  many issues in My Fair Lady is a discussion for another day);  For all it’s faults,  I can’t think of another song that exemplifies the whole “emotions confuse me” vibe as well as this one ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

21. The Party’s Over - Leslie Odom Jr.

“I just thought this would be a good one to...” 

“To end it. Yeah. It is. It's a good choice. A good one to end on.”

22. Don’t Wait Too Long - Tony Bennett

“To our last hurrah.” “Our last, yeah. I mean, it's not like I'm never going to see you again.” “Isn't it?” “Is it?” “I thought that's what you wanted.”

23. Style - Taylor Swift

“Was that Danny? What did he want?” “He's fine with it.” “Sorry..?” “Danny. He's fine with the idea of me and you knocking about... Oh, to hell with the last hurrah. Let's keep going...I've had a wobble. It's a big wobble, but it's fine... Now, shut up and give me some planets.”

“You can't really tell if something's an addiction till you try and give it up.”

24. You’ll Be Back – Hamilton

“Now, that was surprising. And I love surprises.”

Missy anticipates her return.

25. I Think I’m In Love With You - Jessica Simpson

“Okay, before all of that. Before all of the stuff That I did wrong… I love you.” 

“Danny, I love you. And you are the last person who's ever going to hear me say that.”

26. Without You – Rent

“It's a terrible thing. Just a terrible, terrible thing.” “It wasn't terrible...It was boring.” “Boring?” “It was ordinary. People just kept walking with their iPods and their shopping bags. He was alive, and then he was dead and it was nothing. Like stepping off a bus.” “He deserved better. And so did you.” “I don't deserve anything. Nobody deserves anything. But I am owed better. I am owed.”

27. No Good Deed – Wicked

“Danny Pink. Is dead.” “And?” “And fix it. Change it. Change what happened. Save him. Bring him back.”

“One last chance. And I don't care about the rules, I don't give a damn about paradoxes. Save Danny. Bring him back or I swear you will never step inside your TARDIS again.” 

28. Blank Space - Taylor Swift

“Hello. I hope you're well. How may I assist you with your death?”

“Who are you?” “You know who I am. I told you. You felt it. Surely you did.” “Two hearts.” “And both of them yours.”

“Oh, you know who I am. I'm Missy.” “Who's Missy?” “Please, try to keep up. Short for Mistress. Well, I couldn't very well keep calling myself the Master, now could I?”

29. Coin-Operated Boy - The Dresden Dolls

 “You see, Doctor? The power to slaughter whole worlds at a time, then make them do a safety briefing. Everyone who ever lived, man, woman and child, is now at my command. An indestructible army to rage across the universe. The more they kill, the more they recruit. Happy birthday.”

“All of this. All of it, just to give me an army?” “Well, I don't need one, do I? Armies are for people who think they're right. And nobody thinks they're righter than you. Give a good man firepower, and he'll never run out of people to kill.”

“Why are you doing this?” “I need you to know we're not so different. I need my friend back.” 

30. Who Am I? - Les Misérables

“I really didn't know. I wasn't sure. You lose sight sometimes. Thank you! I am not a good man! I am not a bad man. I am not a hero. And I'm definitely not a president. And no, I'm not an officer. Do you know what I am? I am an idiot, with a box and a screwdriver. Just passing through, helping out, learning. I don't need an army. I never have, because I've got them. Always them. Because love, it's not an emotion. Love is a promise.  And he will never hurt her.” 

31. History Has Its Eyes On You – Hamilton

“This is not a good day. This is Earth's darkest hour. And look at you miserable lot. We are the Fallen. But today, we shall rise. The army of the dead will save the land of the living. This is not the order of a general, nor the whim of a lunatic. This is a promise. The promise of a soldier!”

32. Unworthy of Your Love – Assassins

“Ten zero eleven, zero zero by zero two” “What did you say?” “The current coordinates of Gallifrey. It's returned to it's original location. Didn't you ever think to look?” “You are lying!” “We can, we can go together, just you and me. Just like the old days.” “You'd be clapped in irons.” “If you like.”

“Seriously. Oh, Doctor. To save her soul? But who, my dear, will save yours? Say something nice. Please?” “You win.” “I know.”

33. For Good – Wicked

“Me and Danny, we are going to be fine. Don't you worry. You go home. Go home. Go be a king or something.” “Yeah, I might do that.” “Or queen, you know. Whatever.” “Yeah, queen, that would be good too.”

“Doctor? Travelling with you made me feel really special. Thank you for that. Thank you for making me feel special.” “Thank you for exactly the same.”

Last Christmas

34. Little Saint Nick – The Beach Boys

“Hello? Doctor? You know it can't end like that. What do you want for Christmas?”

Here comes Santa Claus.

35. One Last Time – Hamilton

“Five minutes. You can miss me for five minutes a day. And you'd better do it properly. You'd better be sad. I expect my five. But all the rest of the time, Clara, all the rest of the time, every single second, you just get the hell on with it. Clear?”

“...When I wake up, you won't be there.” 

“Do you know why people get together at Christmas? Because every time they do, it might be the last time. Every Christmas is last Christmas, and this is ours... But now it's time to wake up.” 

36. When You’re Home – In The Heights

“No one ever matched up to Danny, eh?” “There was one other man, but that would never have worked out.” “Why not?” “He was impossible.” 

“The TARDIS is outside.” “So?” “So, all of time and all of space is sitting out there. A big blue box. Please, don't even argue.” 

“Merry Christmas, Doctor.” “Merry Christmas, Clara Oswald.”

#doctor who #series 8 #doctor who fanmix #playlist #twelfth doctor #clara oswald #clara #whouffaldi #twelve x clara #danny pink #clara x danny #clara x danny pink #missy #the master #twissy #last christmas #spotify #whovian music

[sinceileftyoublog]

Amanda Palmer Interview: There Should Be No Misinterpretation

Photo by Kahn & Selesnick

BY JORDAN MAINZER

“No one’s gonna tie surprise balloons / Onto your desk at work / And no one’s gonna ask how you’re doing,” Amanda Palmer sings on “Voicemail for Jill”, a standout track on her new album There Will Be No Intermission. She’s talking to a friend about an abortion, something you think may be the case throughout the song but that’s--importantly--revealed explicitly at the end. As someone who has had three abortions herself, Palmer didn’t wish to steep the subject in wink-and-nod metaphor or any sort of ambiguity. Let’s just talk about it, she’s arguing.

This lack of grey area exemplifies the album as a whole, a stark affair consisting of mostly Palmer and piano, alternating between long, but structured tales and instrumental interludes. The subject matter of the songs isn’t necessarily tragic, if something has to achieve a certain level of rarity to be considered tragic. Rather, they’re common even if not part of every life--miscarriages, cancer, and abortions--and as such deserve to have their stigmas eliminated, something Palmer helped to do the best way she knew how: by writing songs. Likewise, the live tour accompanying the record will be similarly minimal, Palmer’s voice and a couple instruments the vessels for telling vital stories.

Last month, I interviewed Palmer over the phone (in preview of her show at the Chicago Theatre next Friday). In addition to talking about Intermission and “Voicemail for Jill”, she spoke about working with John Congleton and crowdfunding using Patreon. Read our conversation below, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: How is the new record unique as compared to anything else you’ve ever released?

Amanda Palmer: It’s the most direct, for sure. [laughs] There’s not a whole lot of room for interpretation or misinterpretation, although I’m sure there will be plenty of people out there who try to misinterpret it. It’s about as forthright as my songwriting has ever gotten, and it’s certainly the most therapeutic record I’ve ever made. I’ve made some therapeutic records, but this one takes the cake.

SILY: Would you say that whatever ambiguity there is, it might lie in the perspective from which you’re singing?

AP: You know, I don’t know. I always think my songs are easier to figure out than other people do. A lot of these songs are just very direct storytelling. They don’t leave a whole ton up to the imagination. And that’s really deliberate. I didn’t want to couch these experiences in a whole lot of metaphor for a reason. It felt like I could do a better service to the world and to the sorts of people who will probably listen to my music who are already collected if I didn’t take the easy way out and didn’t decorate these subjects. That’s reflected in the record cover. It’s a very blunt, naked record.

SILY: That doesn’t mean that you can’t toy with different modes of storytelling. A song like “Voicemail for Jill” has that very explicit reveal in the end about the abortion shower. Do you think you were still able to change up the way you told the stories?

AP: That’s such a great question because I struggled for so, so many years trying to figure out how to write about abortion. The place I would always get really tripped up when trying to sit down to write about that subject was I just couldn’t figure out who was talking. For a subject as dicey and as personal as abortion that’s at once completely intimate and heavily political, I just couldn’t find a voice who was inarguable. I needed to somehow find that. It took me a really, really long time, and I always had a pot on the back-burner of my songwriting brain trying to figure out how to write a really, good, solid, unsentimental abortion song. Interestingly enough, it was finally landing on a perspective that worked for such a powerful and obvious reason, which we’re seeing reflected in all of the movements that are springing up right now, which is a woman telling the truth to another woman. Shamelessly.

SILY: A line that sort of sticks out to me--and maybe it’s no coincidence it becomes at the beginning of the record--is, “Isn’t it nice when we’re all afraid at the same time?” Is that solidarity in fear a very important theme of the record?

AP: I think that’s a question for you. [laughs] I think that’s why we make art. We don’t want to feel alone. That’s why we make it and why we listen to it and look at it. It’s why we continue to need it. Art does something that nothing else can really do. It doesn’t matter how educated you are. It doesn’t matter what your human experiences have been. It doesn’t matter what you believe. There’s this incredible core truth that art can bypass all of these systems and give a shared human experience that nothing else can give us. This record for me feels like my most direct contribution to that pile of stuff.

SILY: I want to switch gears to the structure of the record. It switches between stories and interludes, or short instrumental bits. The title was named after one of these instrumentals. Obviously, people are going to concentrate more on the words of the longer songs. But what’s the importance of the shorter, in-between tracks to you?

AP: They’re strategic breaks so that you can get more wine and Kleenex. [laughs] They’re there to give you a breather and also thread the record together so it feels like one album instead of a bunch of random fragments.

SILY: Is this the second album you’ve crowdfunded?

AP: Kind of. It’s interesting. Nobody has said that before. This record wasn’t really crowdfunded. You can look at it either way. It was either entirely crowdfunded because my entire life right now is crowdfunded, or it wasn’t because I didn’t use Kickstarter and I didn’t raise funds for this one standalone album. I’m using Patreon now, so everything in my life is crowdfunded from the album to the salary that I pay my assistant to the bananas I bought this morning for my kid. It’s all crowdfunded. And I love it that way. My audience has put in an immense amount of trust in me, and I pick my Patreon salary every month and spend it on the entire work of my life, which is the cost of this album and a huge studio in L.A. and a string section and producer and the mastering and the artwork. It’s endless. There has never been less of a beginning and end as far as that kind of stuff is concerned. My art and life and business has achieved a complete figure 8. I love it. It’s working beautifully.

SILY: It’s almost a model for other people to follow themselves if they see it working for you.

AP: Yeah, they are slowly, but I’m still an early adopter, and I’m also a weird kind of unicorn because I really deeply love being in constant touch with my audience. I love sharing my process. I love having very few boundaries between my so-called personal life and my work. And that makes it much easier for me to jump the crowdfunding hurdle. It doesn’t mean that it’s impossible for very very private artists to stand up and say, “I’m fucking sick of the major label system; all I want to do is put out a record every five years. Will you promise to contribute 25 bucks every time that happens?” The PJ Harveys and the Jeff Mangums of the world are perfectly capable of doing that and would probably be showered with hundreds of thousands of dollars. But there’s still a real emotional stigma around the idea of going directly to your audience instead of going up to the head office of a label.

SILY: Is this your second record working with John Congleton?

AP: Yeah. He’s my soul brother. There was nobody else I wanted to make this record with.

SILY: What does he bring to your creative process that’s unique and continues to help you grow?

AP: He brought two essential things to this record--and I’m so glad you asked, because you’re the first journalist who’s asked about John, and he deserves a lot of credit for this record. First of all, he and I have a rapport personally with one another which was an essential ingredient of an ability to go into a studio, sit behind a piano, and do this kind of material. There was no fucking way I was going to go into a studio and do this with a stranger. I had to be with a friend. It was just a non-starter. And John and I haven’t just worked together--we’ve worked together and have become friends. That was important. I needed to go in that studio and feel completely safe. To cry, to be frustrated, to feel completely un-self-conscious. I knew John could allow me that space and help create a harbor that I could dock in and do whatever it was I needed to get wherever I needed to get to make an album this honest. It's important to point out that there was nobody else in the studio. There wasn’t an assistant engineer. We locked the doors. It was just me and him. And mics and instruments. Later, we had lots of people coming in and doing overdubs, but when we were doing basic tracks, it was a lockout. 

The other thing was everything added to the record beyond the basic tracks. John and I had a really strategic, deliberate approach to how we wanted this record to sound. I have made records with full orchestration, full 30-piece orchestra with strings sections, full bands, full kicks, full everything. And I’ve also made a bunch of music with the Dresden Dolls. I’ve experienced the whole spectrum at this point of what you can and can’t do when you’re starting with a piano song. John and I discussed this over email and over the phone for a year. What we agreed on was that the album needed extra ornamentation, but it needed to be extremely minimal and it needed to have rules. We were going to create that set of rules and then stick to them like our lives depended on it. The rules were: No band, no strings, anything else goes. I trusted John. He hired Max Henry from the band Suuns from Montreal to fly out to L.A. to experiment with me in the studio to program and create extra sounds. My really good friend Jherek Bischoff, who orchestrated the last record, came in and did really minimal upright bass overdubs. We prepared the piano and he created all of those intermissions. That was it. And there was one other, Joey Waronker who played drums for about 25 seconds. He was off tour for two days and was like, “Sure, I’ll play drums.” Jason Webley played some accordion on “Mother’s Confession”. That was it. If you’re a music geek and really care about production, all of our choices in terms of the overdubs or adding extra vocals were super careful and very deliberate. Anything that didn’t support the story was jettisoned. We ended up leaving a lot on the cutting room floor. We were trying to leave with the most tasteful, minimal sound we could achieve.

SILY: How are you adapting this album to the live stage?

AP: Solo. [laughs] It’s just me, a piano, and a ukulele, and that’s it. There’s no support. No special guests. I’m not fucking around on this tour. I’m just getting on stage and delivering a really meticulous, powerful show.

SILY: Do you find it weird doing that in big theaters?

AP: Well, I have to do that in big theaters because even though I would probably prefer to do this in 300-seat clubs, I don’t want to tour this record for 5 years. I can sell about 2,000 tickets per city. Unless I wanted to tour this record every night in every city for 8 nights, I needed to play large theaters. But they’re not so large that they can’t feel intimate. I think it’s gonna work. And that’s part of the challenge. It’s a lot easier to play to a room of 300 people and make it feel totally fucking real. It’s harder to do when you’ve got 2,000 souls in a room. I think I’ve figured it out. Check back in with me in a couple months.

SILY: You’re playing the Chicago Theatre on your tour, and I think it definitely fits that description.

AP: Yeah. And you know, I watched Nick Cave play Skeleton Tree to a room of, I don’t know, 7000 people in Sydney. And he pulled that off. And I thought, “If he can pull that off, I can pull this off.”

SILY: Do you have a favorite song on the new record?

AP: Yeah, I think I do, but I think it’s gonna keep changing. [laughs] Right now it’s “Voicemail for Jill” because I’m putting it out tomorrow. I’m surrounded by it. I’m really really attached to and proud of all of the material on this record in a way that I never have been before. Unabashedly. But this song and what it means and what it says, it’s like if you held a gun to my head and said, “Okay, you can put out only one of these in the world,” that’s the one I would pick. As a survivor, that’s what I would stick in the life raft when escaping from a sinking Titanic. That’s the song that may help and heal the greatest number of people. That’s the one I’d give my organs to.

#amanda palmer #interviews #Kahn & Selesnick #john congleton #max henry #jason webley #chicago theatre #there will be no intermission #kickstarter #patreon #pj harvey #jeff mangum #the dresden dolls #suuns #Jherek Bischoff #joey waronker #nick cave #skeleton tree

[kayawagner]

Storytelling and Games

My #tableselfie for the class. I forgot to take it until the end, so we missed a couple students.

Last week, I had the privilege of speaking to an honors seminar class at Finger Lakes Community College. The class was called Storytelling and Games, and I was asked if I was interested in coming in to talk to the class about narrative in roleplaying games. Was I interested? Ooh boy, was I ever!

Of course, the closer we got to the date, the more nervous I got. It was a two-hour class that met once a week with about twelve students. I wouldn’t be overwhelmed by a large audience, but I still wanted to make sure I gave them a good presentation. My friend, the instructor who invited me, had let me know they were a bunch of awesome nerds, and whatever I brought in should be fine. While all of them were definitely folk of a nerdy flavor, only a few of them had actually played table top RPGs before.

So, what did I do? Well, first, I talked about the history of RPGs and how narrative was kind of an accidental byproduct of early games. I’m sure some grognard somewhere is screaming sacrilege, but RPGs were born out of miniature wargames. The theming of early games was on point right from the beginning, but rules that lead to the story the game’s theme promised weren’t really there yet. Obviously, something about the characters and the stories that did come out of games was captivating, otherwise those original players would have wandered back to minis and wargames.

As games evolved, the narrative they were advertising became more and more important. In the early 90’s, Vampire: the Masquerade debuted and they called the game runner a storyteller, right out of the gate. The rules still had some issues lining up the story of a monster’s struggle with its own humanity with the rules as presented, but the mechanics were getting closer. Then there was the D20 Boom of the early 00’s. In the shadow of D&D 3.0 and all the other publishers making D20 compatible products, an indie aesthetic arose in designers looking for something different. Slowly, the idea of aligning the mechanics for the story the game is promising became more prominent and part of many designers’ goals.

This wasn’t a history class, though, so I kept the lecture to a minimum. I wanted to frame the games I was presenting to them to show the evolution of the hobby and how modern games build the narrative into the core fabric of the game. What I really wanted to do was SHOW them how roleplaying games work.

The Games!

I split the class in two and gave one half Monster of the Week playbooks and the other half Masks playbooks. Both games have very strong, easy to understand themes and the playbooks do a good job of guiding character creation quickly. Because both games have a large number of playbooks, I could have stuck with one or another based on the number of students, but I felt it was more realistic to divide them into groups that were better representative of what an actual gaming table might have. We wouldn’t be able to get in a full game, but I still wanted to give them a taste of it all.

The Monster of the Week crew chose a Monstrous, a Crooked, a Spell-Slinger, and a Chosen. After they worked through their playbooks, we ended up with a Chosen that didn’t really understand that he was destined for something important, but kept being nudged by outside forces into saving the day. The Crooked was a pick-pocket who acted like he was made of Teflon because nothing bad could stick to him. The Spell-Slinger started off as a direct homage to Harry Dresden, but ended up with a little Karrin Murphy flavor in there as well. The Monstrous was a vampire that had decided humanity was getting too good at creating evil on its own, so out of self-preservation, she was working for the good guys to keep the world from going to complete crap.

The Masks players!

The Masks group chose a Transformed, a Delinquent, a Doomed, an Outsider, and a Bull. The Transformed was a metal dude trying to figure out how to still be a normal kid in his new body. The Delinquent developed his powers naturally and just used them to get even more rebellious with his illegal urban exploration. The Bull was an ex-football player that got experimented on, but ended up rescuing all the other kids getting experimented on with them. The Outsider came from the planet Glarfunk, was bright blue with bizarre hair, and never ever passed for normal. The Doomed, on the other hand, was normal enough that her primary enemy was a high school bully that was trying to kill her off.

Once we got the basics of the characters out of the way, we did connections. I did this to show how you can build the narrative of the game at the beginning by interweaving all of the characters together. With the Masks group, most of them revolved their connections around the Bull. During a regular game, I would have pushed them to spread their connections around, but they were all having so much fun making the Bull their social linchpin, I didn’t want to stop them. For the monster hunters of Monster of the Week, the connections weren’t as cohesive and took a little more prodding. In the end, they eventually came up with enough connections to logically explain why they were all in Houston working together to stop a cult trying to summon a major demon.

With the connections out of the way, I ran a quick scene for each group. With each, I tried to demonstrate how the story builds from the scene I set as the GM, but evolved from the actions they took. RPGs should be a collaborative affair, after all.

With the Masks kids, like you sometimes see with new players, I had to nudge them into acting on what they were seeing. They were all super into the world building during character creation, but weren’t sure how to dive into the game once we got rolling. The scene I set for them was a mall that was being attacked by someone or something. One fun thing that happened early was me being able to demonstrate how their ideas can help influence the game. I described the wreckage of a Build-A-Bear store and one of the players asked if they were going to be fighting a giant stuffed bear? Yes, yes you are. Eventually they started to get more proactive and after a couple of times around the table, I ended on a cliffhanger, letting them discover that their real enemy was a little girl on the merry-go-round, animating giant dolls and statues as her ‘friends’.

The Monster hunters!

For Monster of the Week, I gave them a setup where the cult they were fighting against had kidnapped a bunch of innocent civilians and was about to sacrifice them on the floor of the Houston Texan’s stadium. Right out of the gate, I had to have a talk about tone. Again, as you sometimes see with newer players, they were a little more bloodthirsty than the tone of the game calls for. The Crooked’s solution for dealing with the cultists was to blow up the stadium and the kidnapped people would be ‘acceptable casualties’. I pointed out that they are supposed to be the heroes and blowing up innocent civilians goes against that. If it had been a full game, I would have spent more time guiding them into the proper tone of the game, but that was a luxury we didn’t have. In the end, as is often the case in Monster of the Week, the dice made things go sideways anyway. When I ended it, the explosion didn’t go off like they had hoped and the vampire was being held by the cult leader as an acceptable sacrificial alternative.

I had a really fun time with the class and I hope to get the chance to do it again in the future. The students all said they had fun, and I’ve been told that a couple of them expressed that they really enjoyed their first taste of RPGs. Huge thanks to April Broughton for inviting me to the class and good luck to all the students!

Storytelling and Games published first on https://supergalaxyrom.tumblr.com

[dreamcaravan]

Grief, and then some

I never really met Jess. I interacted with her only once: she was scrubbing one of the communal washing machines in the laundry house at the show we were both working, while I was waiting for my clothes to dry. Cleaning the machines wasn’t her job, understand: she had to do it in order to be able to wash her clothes in them. She was obsessive-compulsive, and from what I understand clean was her compulsion. My partner, who works security at that show, once mentioned that she would hold her ID in a napkin when asked to show it.

These aren’t important details - they were merely memorable. They say nothing about who she was. Frankly, I don’t know who she was. These unimportant facts are all I have.

A few weeks after that particular laundry day, that show ended. I moved on to the next one, and so did many of the people I knew.

Jess was killed in a car accident on her way there.

My partner found out and told me about it halfway through the day, on the first day of the show. I felt a brush of shock, though I didn’t know her enough to grieve - but I knew we had friends that loved her, and that they would be grieving horribly. What I said to him, then, was “we need to go see Liz.”

Full disclosure: I haven’t known Liz that long, either. Though we grew up within hundred miles or so of one another, she and her husband are among my partner’s many friends and acquaintances that I didn’t meet until I joined him on the road at the beginning of this year. We’d spent a bit of time with them, and I had already come to like them very much, but they were still almost strangers to me. Usually that would hold me back - I’m not good with intimacy, I’m very uncomfortable with other people’s emotions, and I’m generally just an anxious and awkward person - but all those things were pushed aside, this time.

When we got there the two of them were, understandably, a mess.  Their faces were stained, and their hands shook as they lit cigarette after cigarette. They were exhausted, physically and emotionally, having wept themselves dry only to find they could still cry after all - and my heart hurt for them.

Liz sat on the tiny balcony at the top of their ladder-like wooden stairs, still in her work clothes, wrapped tightly around herself with her knees to her chest. “It’s never been my best friend before,” she said quietly, through the tears, and I climbed the stairs and held her and I said, “it has for me.”

I had been there, once. What I had needed more than anything then was for someone to tell me that they didn’t know how I felt, that it was okay to yell and scream and be angry instead of sad, that I could (and should) tell anyone and everyone to just fuck off, if that’s what I wanted to do. I didn’t get any of that. I got platitudes, pity, questions, awkwardness - and a dear friend who made sure I ate and slept and showered, and a few touching shows of concern from old acquaintances - but no one who could begin to see the pain that I was in, and certainly no one to tell me that “it gets better” was bullshit.

Seven years ago today, I had what was easily the most terrible day of my life. Suddenly, shockingly, horribly, the most important person in my world was gone - my absolute worst fear, realized, and my entire life turned on its side.

Here’s the most important thing: it doesn’t get better, it doesn’t get easier, time does not heal all wounds, and no grieving person wants to hear that it will. Grief makes us selfish about our pain - or at least, it did for me. I didn’t want to be told that anyone understood - they couldn’t. I didn’t want to hear that it would hurt less in time; I didn’t want it to hurt less at all. Didn’t those people realize that my best friend, my other half, my person, was gone? Couldn’t they see that I was irreparably broken?

They couldn’t, of course. No one who hasn’t experienced that kind of loss can comprehend its magnitude, and no one who has would wish it on them - but, I think, we wouldn’t erase it from ourselves, either. I don’t want an Eternal Sunshine or a Spotless Mind. The loss and the pain redefined me.

That’s why I had to go to Liz. I don’t remember what I said, and I don’t think I even said very much - but I needed her to know that there was someone who had lived the same nightmare. Even if I couldn’t make anything better, I hoped - hope - that I could at least be the proof that this nightmare was survivable.

I’ve thought about it a lot, trying to find the right analogy to help people understand, but it’s tricky. How can you make anyone imagine the unimaginable?

It could be like losing an arm or a leg: it’s not going to grow back. It’ll stop bleeding, and it’ll scar over, but that scar will be fierce and ugly, and there’s always going to be something missing. This is your life now, and you have to learn to live this way. It’s never going to go back to how it was - so you adapt, because you have to. You learn how to work around this tremendous gap in your life: you figure out how to do things differently, because you still have to do them, and sometimes you learn that you just can’t do certain things at all anymore, and you adjust your life accordingly.

(I never used to cry at movies, or at songs, though books did get me from time to time. Now I openly weep in the theater. I can’t help it. I sobbed for half of Les Mis. I cried the entire way through the Dresden Dolls concert I went to last summer. I can’t listen to the Radiohead song “Creep” - I can’t delete it from my iTunes, but I skip it every time. I change the radio station if it comes on, and I have abandoned my shopping and walked out of stores over it.)

Or maybe it’s more like losing a lung - or, yes, a chunk of your heart, but in the literal sense. That, I imagine, would be just as traumatic as losing a limb, but it’s invisible to everyone else: unless you tell them what it is, they have no idea of what’s missing, nor of the effect that the void has on you. Things that once were easy suddenly take an unimaginable effort. Every movement, every moment, is a struggle you’d never imagined it could be, and you can’t stop the pain any more than you can stop yourself from blinking.

Or, thinking of blinking, perhaps it’s like losing an eye: it’s instantly disorienting and surreal, and once the shock wears off, the way you experience the entire world around you has changed forever, in a way that you cannot possibly explain to anyone who still has both eyes. You can put in a glass fake and pretend to be whole, but even if people don’t notice quite what it is, the perceptive ones are vaguely unnerved by the sense that something about you isn’t quite normal.

It’s like all of those things, and it’s like none of them.

So much has changed, in these seven years. I want to say “and so much is the same,” but that isn’t true: very little is the same, really. My life has gone in entirely different directions than I thought it would, and I have developed drastically as a person. I’m more like him now than I ever was when he was here, somehow - and a part of his family in a way that I never was then, too.

What hasn’t changed is this: I love him as much as I did when we were sixteen and new. We adored each other, loving in the way that I imagine teenagers generally do: intensely, profoundly, absolutely, and without any sense of self-preservation. I wasn’t his first love, but he was mine, and I never imagined it would be anything short of forever.

When I look into the mirror in the room that was once his I see him in his glory: shirtless, slouching, critically admiring his own pale skin and sloped, sculpted shoulders - and then myself, behind him, wild-haired and doe-eyed (only slightly less so now than I was then), not a doubt in my mind that this present would be my future.

And it would have been. We knew that; it was understood. We broke up, lived far apart, saw other people, loved them, even - but we talked on the phone almost every day, often for hours. Get back together, rinse, repeat. I could have, would have, lived my whole life that way. No matter how satisfied I am with what my life has become - and I truly am, right now - it’s sometimes difficult not to feel that I’ve been robbed of the life I expected to have.

I have, from time to time, felt peculiar little echoes - something like his ghost, maybe. At Christmas dinner with his family, which I never attended during his lifetime but have every year since he left, I’ll have an urge to scoot my chair forward for him to squeeze past me at the tightly-wedged end of the table where the young people sit. Working beside his sister at their aunt’s bakery, which opened two years after his death, I have felt his hands on my hips to move me out of the way when my hands are covered in cookie dough. Afterwards I’ll feel a wash of sad surprise, and I’ve often had to excuse myself to let the tears run their course. It’s one of the things I’ve come to accept as a part of my life without him.

He’s been gone now for longer than I had him - even when I see him in dreams, there is a sense of urgency rooted in the awareness of his absence - and yet he manages to be the single greatest force in my life, for good or ill. I don’t mind this. It seems somehow right to me.

#grief