#I’ve also played pajama sam something somebody darkness

[hotvintagepoll]

Okay, but now I must know your opinions on Putt-Putt games! (Gotta disagree with you. Putt-Putt Goes to the Moon is clearly the Best of them all)

i haven't played all the games (including Goes to the Moon, sadly), but here are my unfiltered reviews for all the ones I have played!

Putt-Putt Saves the Zoo: a classic. a slowburn. the same every time but that adds to its aura of stability, the old world, a pocket out of time undisturbed. also there are cheese puffs and you can have putt-putt eat them over and over if you don’t care much about saving the elephant

Putt-Putt Travels Through Time: more hectic, meandering, a loop in a loop: the clues ever spiraling outward, the chaos of time unlocked vying with old prospector stereotypes and a deeply inaccurate Middle Ages. a singing hourglass asks putt-putt to resolve reality and he responds “and my homework?” Notable for its wagon wheel fruit snacks (edible if you want to sacrifice the entire old west portion and shoot your gameplay in the foot) and the talking floating lipstick wearing car i had a crush on as a 4 year old.

Putt-Putt Enters the Race: a!!! banger!!!!! yes you get stuck in the vegetable garden too long. yes you wonder why Outback Al, a supposed zoologist, doesn’t know what a baby yak eats. but there’s a cat stuck in a tree and a dog with buried treasure and sometimes the shed is on fire! this is riveting domestic drama and the cherry on top is the number of milkshakes one can order. (a lot.)

Freddi Fish and the Stolen Conch Shell: the most perfect of the freddi games in my opinion for channeling noir coral reef aesthetics into a chiming, dark-hue’d mystery. shady characters galore (also a monkey). an intense climax with true stakes. a squid with a cabaret act. freddi peaks. (the seaweed looks soooo edible.)

Freddi Fish and the Hogfish Rustlers: ok this one kinda beefs it ngl. yes there’s an old timey bar yes you can order a root bear soda. but the vibes? the QUEST? the menace of the deep? lacking. there is one cool part where you can intentionally drown a ship, but otherwise the aesthetic is too brown to really go full High Noon.

Freddi Fish and the Case of the Creature of Coral Cove: the character design in this suuuuucks I couldn’t tell you why I just hate all of them. BUT there is a taffy machine and I love the finale of running around the house flipping open secret doors and bribing dogs, so I give it points for that.

Freddi Fish and Maze Madness: aptly named because this game has been driving me insane for years. I played it last week and I’m still stuck on level 31. what the fuck. humongous entertainment said let’s make a game for 8 year olds so we can really let those little suckers know they ain’t shit because this thing is impossible

[fortuositywritings]

Tattoo Heart

Summary: Tony and you make a dumb drunk decision. He gives you a tattoo.

“Um, what the hell, Tony! You said it wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not! It’s well-proportioned. Really it’s the best heart I’ve ever drawn. I don’t know why you’re so upset. It could have been worse.”

“The heart isn’t the problem. You tattooed Wanda’s name on it!”

“Yeah, I can see why you’re mad.”

You poked your sore arm. Out of all places, he had to tattoo it on your arm above your elbow where everyone could see. Talk about bad placement.

You pout, “How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Baseball tee’s could make a comeback. You’ll be a trendsetter,” he suggests, not helping at all. 

You glare at him. “You’re paying for it to be removed.”

“I expected no less,” he concedes. You’re still touching the tender spot, frowning. He stops you. “Poking it is not going to make it go away.”

“Fuck! I’m never getting drunk with you again,” you vow. 

“You say that now, but come Friday night, whiteclaw in hand, you’ll have no recollection of this ever happening.”

“Getting a tattoo with your crush’s name on it is kind of hard to forget, Tony,” you spit out. He wears a sheepish smile. Speaking of the party on Friday, “Shit!”

“What?” Tony asks, clearly not processing the situation you’re in as fast as you are.

“Wanda’s gonna be there,” you remember.

“Well, yeah. It’s Pietro’s birthday party and they’re twins so,” he comments sarcastically.

“It’s a pool party. How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Just don’t get in the pool. Or you know what, just don’t go. Say you got sick,” Tony suggests.

“I can’t do that. She expects me to be there and I don’t want to let her down on her birthday,” you explain. Wanda had personally invited you to her party, saying you were going to be her partner for beer pong. 

“Fine. Don’t worry about it too much. We have all week to figure something out,” he reasons. You guess he’s right. No use in stressing too much.

Friday afternoon comes too fast.

You’re stressing as you look at yourself in the mirror. You look ridiculous. 

“You’re literally a genius and this was the best you could come up with?” you complain. You already feel yourself sweating. You hadn’t thought of what to wear. You only had your one piece bathing suit. Tony told you he had something and you trusted him. What he brought you, a long sleeve rashguard to wear over your bathing suit.

“Makeup was just going to wash off. We couldn’t chance it. This way, you can get in the pool,” he says. 

“I look like I’m going surfing, not a pool party,” you huff. 

“You look fine. If anyone asks, you burn easily. Now let’s go. Your girlfriend is waiting on you,” he rushes you along, grabbing your stuff for you. You throw on some shorts and slip on some sandals.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” you mumble, blushing as he pushes you out the door.

“Oh, I know. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if she was.” He closes the door.

Pietro opens the door for you and Tony. You both hug him and congratulate him on another year of being on this earth or as Tony puts it, “Congrats on being one year closer to death!”

Technically, their birthday is tomorrow but they always have a birthday dinner with their parents, so they celebrate with their friends either the day before or after. You and Tony hand Pietro your present for him. 

“Just don’t open it in front of your parents,” you warn. He decides to unwrap it right then. You roll your eyes at his impatience to wait until tomorrow. To his satisfaction it’s running shoes with a bottle of alcohol in each shoe. He laughs, thanking you for his present. He notices you looking around, searching for a certain somebody. He already knows who you’re looking for. 

“She’s in the kitchen,” he tells you, a smirk appearing on his face when you blush at being so obvious. You thank him and go find Wanda.

As Pietro said, she is in the kitchen fixing some appetizers to bring outside. What you weren’t prepared for was her already in her bikini, like she’s ready to jump into the pool. Her two piece bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination but you’re quite the daydreamer it seems. You’re snapped out of your trance by Wanda clearing her throat.

She wears a smirk much like her brother’s and you splutter an embarrassed, “H-hi! Happy Birthday. You, uh, you look good. Great! You look ready for the pool.”

She smiles, amused by your awkwardness. “Thank you. You look ready for the beach.”

You blush. “Yeah, I burn easily,” you lie and quickly move on, handing her the present you got her. “Here.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she says, but you shake your head. “Of course I did. It’s your birthday tomorrow. You can open it now if you want. Your brother did.”

“Unlike my brother, I can wait. Let me go put it in my room. I’ll be right back. Wait here,” she requests. You nod and she leaves with her present. You respectfully turn your gaze to the appetizers, not wanting to ogle her backside. 

“Cowabunga, dude! What the hell are you wearing?”

“No way. I almost wore the same thing. Good thing I didn’t or that would be embarrassing.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to see Sam and Rhodey, both clearly amused by their own jokes. You give them an unimpressed look and they laugh harder. 

“Haha. So very funny,” you deadpan.

“Seriously, Y/N, why are you wearing that? It’s like a thousand degrees,” Rhodey asks. 

“Maybe I’m insecure and you guys laughing just makes me feel worse? Maybe thought of that?” you retort, but neither buy it. They look at each other and start laughing. 

“Insecure, my ass. You almost give Tony Stark a run for his money in the size of ego,” Sam says between laughs. You just roll your eyes.

Wanda returns to find the guys pressing you about the long sleeves. 

“Hey, Wanda. I think you might have given Johnny Kapahala the wrong address. She’s gonna be late for the competition,” Sam jokes and you hate that you get the joke. Wanda doesn’t and looks adorably confused. All she knows is they’re referring to you so she looks at you for an explanation but you ignore her in order to throw your own remark.

“At least Johnny wasn’t afraid to swim at the beach,” you bite, making Rhodey and Wanda laugh and Sam take offense.

“There are sharks!” Sam defends himself, making you all laugh. 

The three of you help Wanda bring out the appetizers to the backyard. They’ve got a table and a bunch of chairs laid around. Wanda asks if you’d like a drink and goes to fetch one for the two of you while you greet other friends. 

“You didn’t want one?” You ask her when she returns with only one drink. “If we’re going to be beer pong partners, you can’t leave me drinking alone.”

She giggles and takes a swig from your drink. “Happy?” She asks when she returns the drink to you and smirks upon seeing the slight blush on your cheeks. 

You get a few more remarks about the rashguard but with a few drinks in everyone’s system, the pool is more enticing than poking fun at you. You didn’t plan to get in the pool but with a simple “come on” from Wanda, you’re cannonball jumping into the deep end. 

Once it’s dark, you all begin to vacate the pool in order to play games. You and Wanda play two games of beer pong seeing as neither of you are very good and you think you’ll surely be sick if you play another round. 

You eat, you dance, you sit around and talk to your friends, and Wanda is with you the whole time. It’s midnight and you’re right beside her as everyone sings for her and Pietro. She hands you the first slice of cake, which you eat standing up just to stay next to her as she cuts a piece for everyone. 

It’s nearing 2am as people begin to leave. Wanda and Pietro make sure everyone is getting home safely, either taking a LIFT or having a designated driver. You and Tony stay later to help the twins clean up, which they greatly appreciate.

Almost an hour later, the house looks as if there hadn’t been a party. You and Tony wish them happy birthday once more before he pulls out his phone to call an Uber. The twins insist you two stay, that it is way too late and they’d feel better if you do.

Tony wiggles his eyebrows discreetly at you when Wanda invites you to sleep in her room. You spare him a warning glance before following Wanda to her room. She offers you some pajamas and hands you a long sleeved tshirt like you ask. You excuse her questioning glance saying you get cold at night. 

You change in the bathroom. When you return, you find Wanda also in her pajamas sitting on her bed with the present you gave her earlier in her hand. 

“You want to open that now?” You ask, amused at her eagerness to open it.

“I mean it is my birthday now,” she reasons. You nod, closing the door and going to sit next to her. “Or is this one of those ‘open when you’re alone’ presents?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What kind of presents are those?”

“One of those romantic ones like in the movies that show that you’ve always loved me or something,” she replies. Your palms feel sweaty all of a sudden with the way she stares at you. She reads the nervousness on your face and takes pity, continuing, “Or a vibrator.”

You burst in giggles. “Damn it. How’d you know?” you joke. 

It’s not a vibrator, obviously. You got her two necklaces, one gold with her name and the other sterling silver with her initials.

“I was going to just get you the gold one but then I thought maybe you wanted one to match all those rings you wear so, that’s why there are two,” you explain.

She puts the box aside and throws her arms around you, pulling you flush into her. “Thank you. I love them.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I could totally return those and get you a vibrator if that's what you want,” you laugh. She pulls back immediately, a frown on her face. 

“No, they already have my name,” she protests, pulling a chuckle from you. She hands you the golden one that says ‘Wanda’ and asks, “Will you put this one on me?”

At your nod, she twists around, turning her back to you and sweeping her hair up. You struggle with the clasp a little due to your nervousness, but you get it. Had you paid closer attention, you would have noticed how Wanda shivered at your touch. 

She turns back around and you admire her with your gift around her neck. “It looks great on you.” 

She leans toward you again and you assume it’s to give you another hug, which you wouldn’t mind one bit, but she doesn’t move her head to the side the way one does to hug someone. Her nose bumps into yours and you realize she’s going to kiss you. 

For some damn reason you pull away before her lips reach yours. She looks embarrassed and begins to apologize, “Sorry, I misread that. I thought with the present and the way you’ve been looking at me all day, shit.”

“No, you didn’t misread anything,” you reassure her. She relaxes. “Can we try that again? I was just nervous, but I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Wait.” You get up and make a show of shaking off the nerves and pumping yourself up before you sit back down. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

She giggles, grabbing your face and pulling you into her, kissing the life out of you. She moves to lie back on the bed and you follow her lead. You’re kissing and it’s getting hot and she tugs on your shirt. You remove it without a second thought. You begin kissing down her neck pulling sweet noises when you leave a love bite. She gasps and grips your arm, right above your elbow. 

You flinch in pain. The sudden intake of breath tips her off and she pulls her hand away. She asks worriedly, “Are you okay?”

You remember the tattoo and the fact that it’s not so hidden right now. You start to panic. “Yep, why? Are you okay?”

She narrows her eyes in suspicion, but you kiss her with the intention to make her forget. A minute later, she does it again, grabbing right on that spot. You try not to, but she hears the small groan and she pulls away. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. 

“Then why do you flinch every time I grab your arm?” She moves to grab your arm again to prove a point but you move it away.

“Nothing’s wrong with my arm,” you deny. She sits up and reaches for your arm. Once more you pull out of reach. 

“Y/N, let me see your arm,” she demands. 

“Okay.” You try to save yourself from some of the embarrassment by explaining, “But before you look, just know I did it on a drunken dare and I didn’t know until the day after what Tony actually wrote.”

That piques her curiosity and she shuffled around you to take a look at your arm. You can’t watch, so you hide your face behind the palm of your other hand. You expect her to either laugh at you or get upset, but moments pass and you don’t hear anything. 

You get the nerve to look over your shoulder at Wanda. She looks indecisive about what she wants to say, but she doesn’t look mad. Finally, she says, “I guess I don’t have to ask if you like me or not.”

You groan in embarrassment, hiding your face again. She laughs and pulls you into her as she lies back down. “Don’t laugh. It’s embarrassing enough getting your crush’s name tattooed on you. I don’t need her to actually make fun of me.”

“Aww, you have a crush on me?” she coos. 

You pull away, giving her a deadpan look. “No, I get girls’ names tattooed on me all the time.”

“Having your crush’s name tattooed is embarrassing,” she agrees.

You narrow your eyes, thinking she's just making fun of you now and that was the last thing you need but she continues, “So how about we say it’s your girlfriend’s name?”

Your eyes widen. Wanda bites her lip nervously, waiting for your answer, and that’s how you know she’s serious. You blush, “That would be less embarrassing.”

“I think so too. So what do you say?” She asks, wanting a clear answer.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you answer.

She smiles and kisses you. You can’t help the giddy laughter that comes after. 

“You know, he didn't do too bad. It’s pretty well-proportioned.”

[wordsaremyenemy]

Hubcaps & Ashtrays [Loki X Reader] Part 1

Pairing: Loki x Reader Prompt: “The thing is, I wasn’t pretending." Word count: 2,300+ Summary: (Fake Boyfriend AU) You’re a school teacher, eighth grade ELA in fact. School isn’t even in session yet and you already want to rip your hair out. Good news, it’s right before Labor Day and there’s a four day weekend before school starts. Which means plenty of time to finish that pain-in-the-ass lesson plan that’s being avoided. Bad news, your family’s annual reunion is this weekend. Opting out really isn’t an option. Aunt Dot is turning 89 this year and even though it’s not 90 it’s still a big deal.

There’s no time to vet a decent guy before bringing him home, so looks like you’re going stag. Again. Which means Mom and all of your aunts are going to make damn sure that your love life is going to be center stage all weekend. Although, a night with friends might have the answer to all your problems in the form of Hallmark movies. A/N: Okay... so.... this is my entry to @justsomebucky‘s (to whom I apologize for taking so long, please don’t eat me) writing challenge from like months ago. Retail + Holiday season = no free time for little old me. Honestly it still isn’t finished, but I’m trying to get my ass in gear and do shit. I honestly shouldn’t even be doing this. I have laundry. And Christmas presents still to make. I have three done out of like twelve. (I’m crocheting and making dreamcatchers. I’m a mess right now.)

I have to give fair warning. This was the shameless self-insert I've been dreaming of. I still don’t think I’ve done it justice though. And though I kept the descriptions of the main character fairly... vague, or at least tried to. The readers aesthetic is very much what I consider my own to be. Meaning "Basic White Female Hipster" meets "Emo Punk Rock Queen." And honestly there's not enough love for punk. The title comes from Sleeping With Sirens’ “The Strays.”

Big thanks to the most amazing woman in the world, who’s read this more times than I have at this point, and very kindly beta-d this for me. I love you, babygirl. Thanks for calling me out on all my shit always.  Warnings: Mostly swearing

It all started Monday. You were running late, spilled coffee down the front of your brand-new cardigan, and remembered that you forgot to put deodorant on as you ran out of your Brooklyn apartment, nearly running over your neighbor-slash-best-guy-friend, Bucky. You end up fifteen minutes late to the very first staff meeting of the school year because you’d forgotten which way the conference room was. (It’s in a very peculiar place, okay? You would think it’s by the front office. It’s not. For some reason, it’s on the third floor right next to third-floor teachers' lounge.) At least you got to spend the rest of the day prepping your classroom.

Tuesday wasn’t much better. No big staff meeting, but you did have to meet with the two other eighth grade ELA teachers who were the co-chairs of the English department of the entire school. That was a trip and not in a good way. You’ve been teaching for four-going-on-five years. You knew what you were doing. Mostly. You liked to wing it the first week, get a feel for your students before you set down a structured lesson plan. Not that anyone really did anything that first week anyway.

Apparently, that wasn’t going to fly this year because Mrs. High-and-Mighty Jacobson and Miss I’m-so-much-better-than-you Atterbury insisted that everyone turn in their lesson plans for the first week by Monday. Great.

Wednesday started a little bit better. You remembered deodorant (you did on Tuesday, too; it’s the little victories). You didn’t spill coffee or run down Bucky. You actually had enough time to exchange pleasantries and be reminded to go over for your weekly movie night. There wasn’t a meeting, so it was pure setting up your classroom for the four classes you were teaching this semester. Of course, you agonized over that lesson plan but it was for the first week and you did just find out yesterday and surely it could wait until tomorrow, right?

Around lunch it gets hazy. Your mom texts you and reminds you of the upcoming plans you couldn’t escape that weekend.

It could be Aunt Dot’s last reunion, honey. You wouldn’t want to upset her, would you?

I told you last week, Ma, you text. I’m going.

You should bring that boy you’re always talking about. What’s his name?

You roll your eyes. Dirk. And we broke up months ago. I told you.

The next message comes a few minutes later. You pointedly ignore it and get back to your task at hand. Ironically, it’s also ignoring that lesson plan. Hopefully, there was going to be enough sangria at this weekend-long party to blur out the twenty questions that came with being single in your family.

You’re in the middle of packing for the weekend, jamming to whatever playlist you were last listening to on Spotify. It’s more on the punk side of your music taste than the pop side. There’s a knock at the door, causing you to jump.

“Y/N! Y/N, open up!” Bucky shouts from the other side of the door.

You pad barefoot to the door, clad in blue, fuzzy, penguin pajama pants and an old NYU tee that you definitely did not steal from Bucky a few heartbreaks ago.

“What?” you snap, opening the door in the middle of Buck’s persistent knocking. You’re surprised to find not only Bucky standing in the hall but Steve and Wanda too. Across the hall, Sam and Nat are standing in the doorway to Bucky’s apartment with their arms crossed. “Wait, shit. Is it that time already?”

Wanda grabs you by the arm with a playful smile and roll of the eyes, pulling you across the hall.

“No Vis tonight?” you ask, collapsing face first on the couch. Nat follows and flops down sideways in the armchair. You turn your head to watch Wanda as she answers.

“Vis is still away on business,” she explains with wistful eyes and a shake of her head. She was always like that when Vis was off somewhere that wasn’t wrapped around her.

“At least you have an excuse. I’m walking into this stupid reunion completely single. Again. And my mother is already on my case.”

Sam snorts, perched on the back of the couch by your feet. “Somebody needs a beer.”

“More like an entire bottle of wine,” Nat teases.

Bucky sighs from the kitchen, where he’s the sole person making pizza. “None of you are in here helping me make this pizza so I don’t want to hear anything from any of you if you don’t get something you like.”

That gets everyone up and around the island.

An hour later, everyone’s content and full of pizza. Even Steve, who always seems to be eating, has pushed his paper plate to the other side of the coffee table. Everyone’s gotten into their prime movie watching positions.

Nat is sitting sideways in the reclined armchair, bowl of popcorn sitting where her feet should go. Wanda’s on her stomach on the floor in front of her. Sam’s sitting on the end of the couch closest to them. Bucky’s on the chaise side of the couch; a picturesque view of relaxation. You’re in-between them, your head on Bucky’s lap, feet under Sam’s leg. Steve’s on the floor, between the couch and coffee table, leaning into the junction where your seat met Bucky’s.

They’re thirty minutes into the sixth episode of the Mystery Science Theater 3000 reboot, adding their own commentary to that of Jonah and his robot friends.

“So, whatever happened to that guy you went out with? The one that took you on a date to the opera?” Sam asks. "Why don't you just ask him to be your date? People do it all the time for weddings."

You make a face that doesn’t last long because Bucky’s doing that thing where he plays with your hair and make you fell all warm and cozy inside.

“Wasn’t her type,” he replies for you. He’d heard all about the disaster that was that date. Just like he’d heard all about the ones before it, too. From the day you moved in across the hall, you and Bucky had been inseparable. He was your best friend. Hardly a day went by that two of you didn't share your daily torments with each other.

It was actually Natasha you’ve known the longest. She’d been your roommate when you first started at NYU. It was rough at first. You were the furthest from a city girl, having grown up in farming community, but it was under Nat’s wing that you grew to love the city.

You’d met Steve shortly after, literally running into him one day as he was on his way to class. Turned out he was in one of your Education classes. You’d just never paid attention.

Funnily enough, Steve really made your connection to everyone else in the room. It was Steve who found you the job at the school he was teaching at. He’d graduated the year before, miraculously found a job, and was already the students’ favorite art teacher.

It was through Steve that you met everyone else, but it was fate that you met Bucky. You'd been looking for a place of your own and he'd happened to know one with affordable rent that wasn't far from work at all. The rest was history.

So, Bucky had heard all about the failed blind date with Loki Laufeyson.

You'd been set up by Nat. After getting tired of hearing about your lack of love life after you'd ended the only serious relationship you'd had since moving to New York, she'd taken it upon herself to set you up with the occasional guy to get you to stop bellyaching. There'd been decent guys. Each one was better that the last, like Natasha was getting better about picking out these guys.

Loki had seemed like exactly your type. Tall, dark-haired, and handsome. Proclivity for the color black.

And, okay, to say it failed...is a little harsh.

It was actually a little bit cool. You dressed up in your best date dress and did your hair nice. Went above and beyond on your makeup. He was actually early picking you up at the agreed upon place. (There was no way you were giving him your address.) He was a gentleman and opened doors, pulled out your seat at dinner.

There was just something about him. The first thing you noticed was his accent. (He was British, which gave you shivers.)

The second was that he was more slick-looking than the guys you usually fall for. More eloquent, too.

Honestly, it wasn't his fault that your heart refused to fully give up your teenage crushes on the likes of Andy Biersack (Mostly now -- Juliet Simms was a lucky woman) or Ronnie Radke (more circa "Situations" from his Escape the Fate days, or maybe even early Falling in Reverse -- though you had to admit, Coming Home was a bomb ass album.)

You just liked musicians. It's a thing. Everyone you've ever seriously dated was in some kind of band.

Loki was hot and he had the looks...but the aesthetic just wasn't there.

Back to the really cool part. The opera.

You legitimately had never been to an opera before. So, you hadn't known what to expect. What you got, however, was a heart wrenching tale in sung Italian. You didn't have to understand what they were saying to understand what was going on. But the story had been amazing. So much better than anything you could've read out of a book.

But there was just no chemistry between the two of you.

Which you'd told Bucky.

What you hadn't told him was there was a second date too.

That one was a little bit better. Loki seemed more relaxed than the time before. Just a button down and slacks compared to the full-on suit and tie this time. You'd gone with a skater dress and Vans instead of the heels from the last time too.

It was just a dinner this time. Not as fancy as the last place, but still expensive. You actually struck up a decent conversation. It was mostly about how you'd both been forced to go on awful date after awful date by friends (or family, in his case). He didn't like disappointing his mother.

By the end of the date, you were sure there wasn't going to be a third. It seemed as though you were wrong originally. Loki looked the part, but in reality, he seemed to be like everyone else before him. There was just something missing.

You're brought out of your head by Nat's annoyed voice.

"I really thought he'd work out too. Have to admit, even I didn't see the opera thing."

"What about Bucky?" Wanda asks. There's a knowing grin on her face like she knows something you don't.

You look up at your best friend to find him smiling like he's holding back laughter.

"Yeah, what about Buck, Y/N? You guys have always been really close," Steve adds.

This time, you do laugh with Bucky joining in. "Do you want to tell them or should I?"

"You can," he says sobering up.

"We've tried that," you explain. "Very early on. Before I even met Dirk. It was actually really fun. We went to a Panic! concert. It was great. We even kissed. But guys, we're just friends."

"What do you mean you kissed?" Natasha hisses.

And that's when everyone's attention turns from the movie to you and every minute detail about your date with Bucky.

It's only a couple hours later that you're standing in the kitchen washing dishes as Bucky picks up the living room. Everyone's gone home for the night.

"You could always hire someone," Buck suggests, as he sets a couple of glasses beside you to be washed.

"Do I look like Deborah Messing? This isn't one of your rom-coms, Buck. Stuff like that doesn't really happen in real life."

He laughs. "Come on, Y/N. You know I'm only joking."

"Face it. There's no way for me to find a date for the weekend. Not this late anyway. Besides, I'd rather not be that person that brings a different date to every family function."

"Why is this such a huge deal anyway?" Bucky wonders.

You stay quiet for a second, wondering that yourself. It wasn't that you weren't happy with your life. Honestly, you didn't think you cared that much about your relationship status. But then again...

"I'm almost thirty," you point out as you rinse the pizza pan in your hands. You can feel his eyes on you, like he's about to ask you how your age has any relevance to the conversation at hand. "I know, I know. But it's different for guys. Women have a prime window for creating a family. And I know I don't have to, that women shouldn't be expected to have children -- yada yada. I'm about all that. But I want to. I had a plan. And it sort of fell apart, I guess. And my mom is on me all the time now. And maybe I'm not really all that happy with where I'm at anyway."

You wash and rinse the two cups and you're done, draining the water and drying your hands off on a dish towel draped over the oven handle.

Bucky gives you a gentle smile and pulls you into a warm hug and kisses your temple. "Hey. It's no time to give up. You might not find a date for this weekend, but that doesn't mean you won't find a date for the rest of your life, Doll."

You lean into him and breathe deep. Sometimes it sucked that you and Bucky weren't meant to be.

[ethanalter]

‘Crashing’ Pete Holmes Interview HBO

Pete Holmes as a struggling comic in ‘Crashing’ (Credit: HBO)

Honesty may be a lonely word, but it’s also an essential ingredient of Pete Holmes’s brand of comedy. The 37-year-old comic has a history of using his stand-up sets, as well as his popular podcast, You Made It Weird, to tackle deeply personal subjects. Now he’s bringing that honesty to HBO in the form of Crashing, a semi-autobiographical series created and starring Holmes and produced by Judd Apatow. While set in the present day, the show is predicated on a story from the creator’s past when his marriage fell apart at the same time he was struggling to launch his comedy career.

Kicked out of his house, Holmes’s TV counterpart (also called Pete Holmes) couch-surfs in the living rooms of such established comics as Artie Lange and Sarah Silverman, who also play themselves. Holmes tells Yahoo TV that liberties have definitely been taken in translating his real life into fiction, but revisiting that part of his history has offered a fair amount of catharsis. “Re-living the heartbreak was difficult; you’d be shooting it and thinking, ‘This is really heavy.’ But then editing it, you make it funny, too. So it’s fun in that regard, and also healing.” Holmes also revealed what it was like to purposely bomb in front of a live audience and why he hopes that his short-lived late-night talk show, The Pete Holmes Show, attains Ben Stiller Show-like cult status.

When I spoke with Judd Apatow about Crashing, he suggested this is a very personal story for you. How did you go about transforming it into the events we watch on the show? The story is really, really personal. It’s been fictionalized, certainly, and changed. If you just tell things exactly how they happened, first of all, legally, that’s a nightmare. Second of all, it’s not as interesting as you might think it is. You need a master like Judd to elegantly, efficiently, and hilariously bring it out. Judd very naturally thinks in stories. One of the first things he did was to tell me, “Just write 10 pages on everything you remember about that time.” So I e-mailed him a document that was filled with truly embarrassing admissions and sad things. I have no problem delving into the tragic to find really, really funny things, and he and I have that in common. My parents still have no idea how this is a comedy! [Laughs.]

You have to tell them, “No, this is funny — trust me.” Yeah, I know. I think when it’s not your son [it’s funnier]. My dad thought the show was going to be like The Odd Couple, with crazy hijinks happening and a different roommate each week. I suppose he’s not entirely wrong. There are hijinks and it is certainly very funny. The pilot kind of does the heavy lifting in terms of getting most, though not all, of the tragedy [out of the way] and then it gets rolling and gets really funny.

Did you always intend to play a version of yourself on the show? The initial conceit of the show was to have everybody playing themselves. That was very important to me. I wanted to create this world where the only person that regressed was me. I’m playing the 2007 version of myself, but everybody else is the 2016 version of themselves. Which is funny because someone like T.J. Miller, who appears in the second and third episodes, is a real person and a real friend. When I actually got divorced in real life, we went to Pittsburgh and spent a week there, just cheering me up and having fun. The difference between T.J. in real life and T.J. in the show is that when I was with him in 2007, he wasn’t famous yet. But on Crashing, he’s playing the post-Deadpool T.J. whereas I’m [pre-fame] Pete. So it’s a little confusing, but once people get into the show, I don’t think they’re going to be saying, “I don’t get it — where’s his podcast?”

Was it strange to put yourself back in the place of being a comedian who isn’t established as you are now? Oh, yeah. I was joking with Judd that the scenes [in the pilot] where I had to perform at an open-mic and bomb was the most painful part. [Laughs.] There’s 300 people there, and they’re extras. Your body still kind of goes into that fight or flight response, and you get that back sweat. And even though you know it’s the story that you’re not supposed to be good yet, it still bothers you a little bit. Still, I think the whole process was a little bit therapeutic. I wish everybody could have an opportunity — maybe they could on a smaller scale — to recreate some of the trauma from their lives like the pain of starting out in stand-up and going to a club where they don’t know you and don’t even want you. [Reliving that moment] I was like, “I don’t know how I did it.” If I was 37 and starting as an open mic-er it would be a real challenge.

I’m curious — how did you ensure that you’d bomb onstage? Did you deliberately write bad material? Or was the audience of extras instructed not to laugh? One, stand-up is so hard. Even if you are trying, you probably won’t do that great. We treated our background actors well, but there’s still a cattle call element. There’s 300 of them, so some production assistant with a headset is going to, at some point, bark at them to stay in line or be quiet or whatever. It kind of feels like a schoolroom in that way, so it’s not a great [environment]. Also, the alchemy of stand-up is so specific. The darkness and coldness [of the club], and also the alcohol can help. That’s when people want to unwind. But if you’re performing at 2 p.m. in a hot room and there’s a group of actors there who aren’t your friends and aren’t on dates, they just want to make a fast buck and they saw this ad on Craigslist, it’s hard to turn that into a good show. I didn’t have to work very hard to bomb! [Laughs.]

Holmes crashing on comic Artie Lange’s couch in ‘Crashing’ (Credit: HBO)

Judd also taught me something he learned while making Funny People, which is that if you want the audience to stop laughing, just keep telling the same joke over and over without warning them. That way, you’ll get the comedian acting believably, but the audience will make certain sounds and groan and it’s not fake because they’re actually feeling it. What was more remarkable was that Artie Lange and T.J. had great sets [in the same setting]! I was in the easier position where I was supposed to do badly, so the pressure was off. It still sucked, though. I wanted a stiff drink afterwards.

Related: Judd Apatow Talks Final Season of ‘Girls,’ His Next HBO Series, ‘Crashing,’ and the Return of ‘Love’

You mentioned your podcast earlier, and that medium has been one way that contemporary comedians are connecting with their fans. We seem to go through cycles where stand-up comedy becomes intensely interesting to people. Is podcasting the key to the current fascination with stand-up? In the past, “comedian” was a very convenient job for the lead in a sitcom to have, because it explained very quickly why he was funny, and why he probably had an OK amount of money. You didn’t wonder why he was able to go on vacation or eat in a nice restaurant. When Jerry took that girl up to Vermont on Seinfeld, nobody thought, “Why does this guy have all this time off?” Our show is a little bit different in that we want to talk about what it’s like to start out as a stand-up, to see the comedian’s origin story. Judd and I were really excited by that.

More to your question, I think, if you look at someone who I admire very much like Louis C.K., being a comedian is the perfect excuse to be very honest. And that’s been encouraged by the rise of podcasts. We now know what it’s like to upload a comedian into your brain through hundreds of podcasts. I barely know Marc Maron, but I feel like I know him so well from listening to WTF. With the advent of podcasts, we’ve gotten a taste for blood — you know what I mean? The premium is higher than it’s ever been for humor that’s authentic and transparent. And with our show, we’re bleeding on the page in some ways. We’re telling secrets. It’s comedy soaked in something relatable and true, and I would argue even a little bit mythic.

Prior to landing at HBO, you hosted The Pete Holmes Show in the post-Conan spot on TBS. Looking back on that series now, how do you feel about your experience in late-night TV? I’m actually wearing Pete Holmes Show pajamas right now! [Laughs.] I wish I had taken more pairs of them — these are getting kind of dingy. I’m the type of comedian that will blame the audience. I’m not saying I blame the audience of The Pete Holmes Show, but I’m very quick to say it was an algorithm — it was a ratings thing and it was the structure of TBS at the time. I know TBS has changed since then, and I’ve had a couple of people [casually] tell me that our show would have done better in the climate they’ve created now.

But I wouldn’t have changed a thing; I’m so proud of it, and I think we did something special given the parameters and the budget and everything. We were shooting nine episodes a week, often months in advance. I’d come out and say, “Hey, it’s Christmastime,” and it was August! I’ve said before that we did exactly the number of episodes we could’ve done before we would’ve started eating ourselves. I really want Netflix or somebody to put it out — we had to take it off YouTube for some legal reason. I’m holding out for the Ben Stiller Show later-appreciation thing. We’ll see if it happens!

Crashing premieres Feb. 19 at 10:30 p.m. on HBO.

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