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aboutcaseyaffleck · 4 years ago

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BOSTON BY CASEY AFFLECK

October 25, 2020 For the record, what follows is nostalgia, false memories, and generalizations. But it’s all true. I grew up in Cambridge, Massachusetts, across the Charles River from Boston proper. Cambridge was one of the most diverse, multicultural cities in America. It was a beautiful, colorful, vibrant place. People from all over the world lived there, all mixed-up together. It is the place I was born and will return to, God willing. It is the city with the smells and sounds and tastes and people I love the most. Despite how much I loved it, when I look at old photos, I often look like this:

I’m in the front in the blue shirt. My best friend was Michael, the tall kid in the red shirt, whose family came from Barbados. Through the middle school years, anytime we weren’t in school we were roaming the streets like Dickensian urchins.

In the ‘90s, Cambridge got rid of rent control. Families who had lived there for four or five generations were squeezed out. Now the city is gentrified; but when I was growing up there, it was scrappy and beautiful. It was mostly working people, except for West Cambridge—where wealthy families lived, where professors lived. Where Cornel West, Yo-Yo Ma, and the Governor lived. East Cambridge was working-class Portuguese families, butcher shops, funeral parlors, and tow yards. Cambridgeport, where I lived, was mostly poor, Italian, Black, Greek, and Irish families. North Cambridge had some big housing projects and the school where my mom taught fifth grade—in a gigantic cement structure called The Tobin School that felt like it was far away because I would have to take a train AND a bus to get there. In reality, it’s like three miles from where we lived.

This is me hanging out in her classroom:

As people and places evolve, the past always reveals blemishes unseen at the time. However, Massachusetts manages, as time unfolds, to be a place that was so often on the right side. Not always, but often enough that I am proud to be from Cambridge, Massachusetts, no matter what.

From Massachusetts came the first national publication denouncing slavery, America’s “first feminist”, and The Cambridge Woman’s Suffrage League, which formed in 1886. My high school had the first girl to play tackle football in that division. Cambridge voted-in the first openly gay African-American mayor in our country. Right now our mayor is a very popular and forward-thinking Muslim woman who immigrated from Pakistan named Sumbul Siddiqui. We have marvels of architecture, science, and tech. It was in Cambridge that the very first email was ever sent (and received). And every year the Red Sox stand up to the wealthier bullies from the Bronx. These are all things we are immensely proud of, but nobody is resting on these laurels.

I am going to tell you about the places I remember fondly, whether they are still there or not.

Luckily, the city’s history isn’t going anywhere, and it hasn’t lost all of its charms. It is a place best seen by walking. So just walk. It’s also seasonal. Different activities for different seasons. But if you can hoof it for a few miles do this: start at the Old North Church and go by Paul Revere House, through Faneuil Hall, by The Old State House through Boston Common, through the Back Bay, go left and pass through Roxbury, another left, and go through South Boston till you hit the water and go left till you hit the Children’s Museum. Sit down and relax. If you just want a path, walk that. Map it or wander around. The city is full of little back streets with lots of character.

MY BOSTON FAVORITES

When looking for things to do and see in the area, you can ask ten people and get ten different answers. You will get a long list of historical buildings, or you will get names of some of the country’s prettiest parks, or you will get pointed toward the campuses of some of the very best schools in the world. But for every Bunker Hill, there are ten other places you haven’t heard of. So I am going to tell you about the places I remember fondly, whether they are still there or not. The thing about Boston is you can miss all the best stuff, and you will still leave thinking it is one of the best cities on Earth. Have fun.

Pinocchio Pizza, Harvard Square. I asked my son to describe it. He says, “the food is good but the vibe is fire, old school; whatever, just get a slice and sit on the ground. That’s why I like it.” I have no idea why he wants to sit on the ground, but I guess that’s part of the charm of the place. We’re both vegan so we both scrape the cheese off and eat bread and sauce. That should tell you something.

Oleana Restaurant on Hampshire Street in Cambridge. Chef Ana Sortun is a baller. The food is Turkish inspired, and it is delicious. Always. Friendly people, pretty inside, and it is in a nice residential neighborhood. My dad lived in an apartment a few blocks away behind a Store 24 until he was evicted back in 1989.

Maharaja, Harvard Square. Incredible Indian food. And it has one of the only third-story views of Harvard Square.

Veggie Galaxy is great diner food. It is vegan. It has breakfast, lunch, dinner, milkshakes and other deserts. All day and all night food that is filling and really good.

Life Alive Organic will serve you the healthiest and heartiest meal you can find anywhere. It’s across the street from City Hall, the post office, and the oldest YMCA in the country.

Cantab Lounge, where my dad was a bartender, and then a janitor when he was too drunk to be a bartender. I drank six thousand ginger ales, sitting in the corner at a sticky table while he worked. Forever it was a bar for postal workers that opened at 10 am, where alcoholics ate hard-boiled eggs from jars that had been sitting on the bar top for two weeks. A couple of days after initially writing this, I got an email from the owner. It is being sold after tens of thousands of years. I don’t know why I care because I don’t exactly have any fond memories from the place, but seeing the brick-and-mortar of your childhood torn down is a kind of mid-life, coming-of-age moment. Life is change.

Darwins Ltd coffee shop and attached mini-grocer and sandwich spot. If you get a coffee and then walk west two blocks on Mt. Auburn St. you will discover on your right a nice little park with a fountain to hang out. It is called Longfellow Park. Or you can look to your left and you will see the Charles River, and you can stroll there.

Fomu for dessert.

Zhu Pan Asian Cuisine and True Bistro for good vegan food.

Newbury Comics is famous and cool.

Million Year Picnic is for comic connoisseurs. They are both great. And they were both plagued by roving bands of middle school thieves in my day. The most notorious was named Mathew Maher. He is now a well-known theater actor on Broadway and appeared in the comic book movie Captain Marvel. But back then he stole shit.

Harvard Coop is the best place to browse for books. Especially the kids section. We spend hours there and nobody kicks us out.

After the game ended everyone would come out and buy sausages [from me] on their way home, then I would clean up and go into a bar outside the park, where my boss was drinking and I’d wait till he was done so I could get a ride home. I was 12 years old. A couple of years ago I threw out the first pitch. Life is change.

The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum is my favorite museum in town, maybe anywhere. It was once her home and it features an indoor garden that is perfect. It also has a great collection of art from around the world. Back on March 18, 1990, two famous paintings were stolen from the museum. As I remember it, a couple of guys showed up in the morning in police uniforms and the guard let them in. They tied the guard up and took a dozen paintings—Vermeer, Rembrandt, Degas—and vanished. The FBI never found them and never found the art. There are two plaques below two empty spaces on the walls to this day. On some days, classical musicians perform in random rooms while you walk around. You won’t want to leave.

Fenway Park. Greatest professional sports arena of any kind. I used to sell sausages in front of the Cask ‘N Flagon, a bar behind The Green Monster.

It is the best baseball bar in the country. When everyone was in the park watching the game, and there was nobody buying food, I would go in and find a seat and watch the game with whoever I was working with; I have seen hundreds of games from every part of the park. After the game ended everyone would come out and buy sausages on their way home, then I would clean up and go into a bar outside the park, where my boss was drinking and I’d wait till he was done so I could get a ride home. I was 12 years old. A couple of years ago I threw out the first pitch. Life is change.

Plimoth Plantation is a living museum in Plymouth, which is 40 minutes from Boston. It is amazing. The actors working there are some of the best I have seen anywhere. If you are even mildly interested in history you have to go there.

Fresh Pond is where you can go running or biking. Two and a half-mile loop.

Or you could hit The Emerald Necklace which is a great run that hits many of the best green areas, Franklin Park included. When we were young we would hop the fence and swim in the water. That isn’t done anymore ever, and everyone has grown up and leading better, more responsible lives.

John Weeks Footbridge is a very pretty, very old, brick walking bridge that spans the Charles River. Watching the Charles Regatta from here is awesome. That is in the Fall. But it’s also great any night.

The King School is a grade school not too far from there. It has maybe the best playground in the city. If you are there in the summer you can just walk on. When I was a kid, the King School is where a girl went who I was head over heels in love with. I finally got a shot at winning her heart in my early twenties and blew it.

Mount Auburn Cemetery is beautiful if you like that kind of thing. Lots of cool people are buried there, and the trees and stones are really nice. It’s a maze but just walk uphill. You will reach a monument with a great view of the city.

The American Repertory Theater puts on good plays. I grew up going there cause a friend of my mother’s directed many of the shows and could sneak us in the back. I wasn’t the adult making that decision; had I known better I would have scraped together the ticket price and supported the arts.

Boston Common is beautiful but you have to avoid all the shopping around it. If you have to shop go to:

NOMAD on Mass Ave in Cambridge is a store that you shouldn’t miss. In a world lost to chain stores and general homogenization of everything, Nomad is the real deal. Deb Colburn has been curating this place since I was ten. It is her store, and she has been trying to wake people up to folk art from around the world since Reagan was in office.

Bodega is a hidden high-end sneaker and casual wear store that must be entered through an unmarked door inside a bodega on a nearby side street. It’s cool how they have done it. Great presentation. Kids will like it.

KIDS ACTIVITIES

There are lots of things you can force your kids to do—things they won’t like the sound of at first, but will ultimately enjoy.

IMAGE CAPTIONS, LEFT TO RIGHT

On a rainy day, hop on the T and ride around town all day reading comics. Then stand outside in the warm rain (kids from LA don’t get this much).

Looking at murals. Cambridge has great murals everywhere. They are old and, incredibly, not vandalized. This one has been on this wall near the river since I was a kid. The child is mine and he is sick of walking around Cambridge.

If you feel like a pilgrim hit the gift shop at Plimoth Plantation.

Playing chess at Leavitt & Pierce Tobacco. You can inhale the scent of pipe tobacco without smoking it, and rent a chess set, clock, and table for $2 an hour in a beautiful old, wood-paneled shop with great ambiance.

Going to the oldest YMCA in the country.

Kayaking on the Charles River. You can get your kayak on Soldiers Field Rd. Take it east under all the bridges until you get to the inlet at Kendell Sq. It will all be clear. It will take about an hour.

Climbing the stairs at Harvard Football Stadium.

Reading books at the Harvard Coop.

NEARBY BOSTON

If you wanna go a little farther, go out to Gloucester for the day. Swim, eat, walk around, go back.

Whale watching sounds like a lame tourist trap but seeing whales up close will change the way you think about life on Earth.

You can take the ferry from Downtown Boston to Provincetown. It is a great place to visit or stay a few days while in town. Ptown is the eastern-most point on the continent. I might be making that up, but it’s close. It’s an arm that sticks out into the Atlantic. It’s really lovely there with a great vibe all around. You can’t have a bad time and everyone is super happy to be there. The beaches are all beautiful. Sharks mostly only eat the seals and won’t come any closer to shore than two feet—but if you want to see a great white up close, we can make that happen.

Cape Cod has some great flea markets. If you plan on spending time on vacation with your family you can find some essentials, like a medieval battle helmet, at the flea market.

SALEM, MASSACHUSETTS

30 minutes on the local train line from downtown. Made famous by the Salem witch trials; a fun place to visit and walk around for about 128 minutes. Newburyport and Rockport lines, which depart from Boston’s North Station, stop at the Salem station. You can go into the homes of people who lived during the witch hunt.

The House of the Seven Gables, made famous by American author Nathaniel Hawthorne‘s novel The House of the Seven Gables, is a 1668 colonial mansion in Salem, Massachusetts named for its gables. The house is now a non-profit museum, with an admission fee charged for tours, as well as an active settlement house with programs for children. It was built for Captain John Turner and stayed with the family for three generations.

The Jonathan Corwin House in Salem, Massachusetts, known as The Witch House, was the home of Judge Jonathan Corwin. It is the only structure still standing in Salem with direct ties to the Salem witch trials of 1692, thought to be built between 1620 and 1642. Corwin bought it in 1675 when he was 35, and he lived there for more than 40 years. The house remained in the Corwin family until the mid-19th century and is located in the McIntire Historic District.

A MECCA FOR ARTISTS

Lastly, for centuries, Cambridge has been a mecca for artists, especially writers. Here are some spots to see if you like that kind of thing:

The corner of JFK Street and 1390 Massachusetts Avenue. This is a good spot. Here is why: America’s FIRST PUBLISHED POET was a woman named Anne Bradstreet who died in 1672 and lived on this spot! It went through lots of changes, and 300 years later, by the time I was walking around, it became a great burger place called THE TASTY. In 1996 or whatever, The Tasty appears in the movie Good Will Hunting in the scene when Matt Damon kisses Minnie Driver. It might have also appeared in the film Love Story back in the 70s. I mix them up. Now it is a CVS. God help us.

The Longfellow House. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow lived at 105 Brattle Street. The great poet taught at Harvard and lived in the Georgian mansion from 1837 until his death in 1882. Before the author, George Washington used the house as his headquarters during the Siege of Boston. The house is open to the public, and it is where I had my eighth-grade graduation ceremony. The mayor attended and forgot the name of our school in his address to the kids. I heard people mutter that he was drunk. I can’t blame him. I had my first drinks hours before that ceremony.

71 Cherry Street, Cambridge. The woman considered to be American’s FIRST feminist, Margaret Fuller, was born and lived here.

Henry and Alice James lived at 20 Quincy Street. The house was knocked down in 1930 and the Harvard Faculty Club was erected there.

W.E.B. DuBois lived at 20 Flagg Street. The writer and pioneer of civil rights rented a room in this Cambridgeport home from 1890 to 1893. This is blocks from my childhood home. He was the first African American to receive a degree from Harvard.

Robert Frost lived at 35 Brewster Street. Frost, who attended high school in Lawrence, Massachusetts, lived in the West Cambridge home from 1943 to 1963.

T.S. Eliot lived at 16 Ash Street.

E.E. Cummings lived at 104 Irving Street. He was an innovator. He also wrote a poem about “Cambridge Women”. He lived at the Irving Street home from 1892 until about 1917.

Also you can find homes of the genius Nabokov and the great and beloved Julia Childs if you look around.

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#casey affleck #quote #feature #boston

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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years ago

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Run To You - Chpt.1

Summary: Bucky has had the day from hell and all he wants is to buy what he needs and get home to his sick kid. Enter Steve Rogers in the wrong place at the wrong time and Bucky’s day goes from bad to mortifying. Master list is HERE :)

Content Warnings: A smidge of bad language, but really ya’ll should expect that from me by now lol

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Who’s ready to start a new adventure with me? I knew I wanted to write a kid!fic with Bucky and Steve but I didn’t expect it to go quite this way until I jokingly called a friend “Captain Clueless” and then couldn’t get that name out of my head in relation to Steve. I fell completely in love with this little universe as I went and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. XOXO - Ash

Chapter One

Bucky Barnes is not at his finest. He just got off a sixteen hour shift from his job as an ER nurse and can barely keep his eyes open. The shift should have ended four hours earlier, but a tour bus accident had them overwhelmed on what had already been a busy night. Bucky was looking forward to catching a few hours of sleep while Becca was at preschool but nope, he came home to a frazzled best friend/ babysitter and a sick four year old. It was always something with Becca, her immune system just wasn’t what it needed to be. Bucky couldn’t fault her for that, she had been born premature and that unfortunately resulted in a whole host of health issues for the little girl. He would never regret adopting her, it was the best decision he’d ever made, but some days parenthood wore on him.

Bucky moves the load of laundry Natasha had started for him into the dryer. It smells clean but there will forever be a slight stain from puke on the ladybug print sheets. He can try his heavy duty stain remover on it later, but he knows there is only so much that can be done for white fabric and bodily fluids. There’s a reason most of his scrubs are black. After checking in on Becca, Bucky begs Natasha to stay a little longer so he can run down to the bodega to pick up a few things for when Becca wakes up. He would have sworn they had an extra bottle of Pedialyte, but apparently they’d used it up during Becca’s last bout with the flu.

Natasha waits patiently, listening to Bucky complain about his shift while he quickly changes out of his scrubs into a pair of soft grey sweats and an old Blink 182 tshirt. She’s been his best friend since their first year of college when they met in Intro to Biology. The two of them have been inseparable ever since, both even choosing to stay in Brooklyn after college instead of going back to where they were from. Natasha’s family was from Russia but traveled a lot so she was happy staying in the city that felt like home to her, and Bucky would have done just about anything to avoid going back to the tiny town in Indiana where his parents were still selling drugs out of their trailer and making each other miserable.

Bucky had thought he was free of his family forever when NYU accepted him into their nursing program. It was his way out of a poverty stricken little town that people rarely escaped from. Bucky had left home at eighteen with no intentions of returning, and he probably never would have, but during his last year of nursing school he found out through Facebook that his thirty eight year old mother was pregnant. To no one’s surprise, his mom was still dealing, still with his deadbeat dad, and was too far along when she found out she was pregnant to have any other option than having the baby. It was a repeat of the situation she’d found herself in at sixteen when she had Bucky. Knowing what it was like to grow up in that house, Bucky couldn’t allow another child to be brought into such a toxic environment. As soon as his mom confirmed the news was true, he hopped on the next flight out to Indiana and started the process to legally adopt his sister once she was born.

When Rebecca Grace Barnes came into the world nine weeks early the doctors said it was a miracle she survived. She was so small, just barely three pounds, and needed to stay in the NICU for just over a month. Bucky had made arrangements with his professors to turn in exams and papers online, barely managing to finish up his nursing degree while biding his time before he could go back to Brooklyn with his baby sister. It had been a wild ride trying to get his nursing career started while caring for a newborn but Natasha had been a life saver. She and their other friend Clint had stepped up in a huge way, helping to watch Becca when he needed to work and daycare wasn’t open. Their schedules had gotten even messier recently when Becca started preschool. Bucky is counting down the days until kindergarten starts so their schedules will align enough for him to only lean on Nat and Clint one or two days a week at most.

“Are you even listening to me?” Natasha throws a balled up Minnie Mouse sock at Bucky who’s too tired to dodge and instead gets a face full of pink fleece.

“Yeah, Nat,” Bucky sighs, wishing he could take off his aching prosthetic but knowing he’ll need both hands for shopping bags. “I’m getting you a choco taco and a red bull this time. I got you.”

Natasha nods happily, completely unphased by Bucky’s eye roll. She’s getting her wake up juice and her crunchy chocolatey sugar, and that is all that matters.

Bucky rushes around the bodega grabbing everything he’ll need to deal with a sick kid, throwing things in the basket without even bothering to check price tags. His bank account will hate him, but he doesn’t exactly have time or options to find the best deals. Grabbing Nat’s items and an iced coffee for himself, he waits in line as an older man chats with the clerk while the teenager rings up his order. The television in the corner is playing the local news, apparently Captain America visited a rec center in Brooklyn recently. There are sound bites from elderly residents and young kids fawning over him, and one of the Captain himself extolling the importance of community and keeping kids off the streets.

Bucky thinks his eyes will get stuck in the back of his head with how hard he rolls them. “This fucking guy.” Bucky grumbles as he places his basket on the counter, unloading his stuff.

The clerk nods in silent agreement.

“I’m sure he was a ‘bright shining beacon of hope’ back in WWII but he has no clue what’s going on in the real word nowadays.” Bucky continues.

The clerk nods once again and Bucky, feeling particularly exhausted and grumpy, yells over at the TV, “It’s not all rainbows and sunshine Captain Clueless!”

“Captain Clueless?” A deep voice rumbles from behind him, “I’ve been called a lot of things over the years, but that’s a new one.”

Bucky sees the clerk's face go pale and the kid freezes, confirming what Bucky feared when he heard that rich baritone behind him. Oh fuck.

Turning around, Bucky prepares himself for the worst. Instead, he finds an extremely amused looking Captain America holding a bottle of water and a bag of swedish fish.

“I’m… I… I didn’t mean…” Bucky stammers. He doesn’t know how to politely explain I meant every word but never meant for you to hear it.

The register pings as the clerk frantically finishes ringing up Bucky’s order, trying to get both men out of the shop before the situation can get any worse. The sound startles Bucky and he turns around to see the green blinking $58.79 on the little box. His stomach sinks, there went grocery shopping for the week. But, he reasons, Becca won’t want much for a few days while she recovers and he’s no stranger to a ramen-only diet. They’ll get by, just like they always do.

Before Bucky can hand over his last three twenties, a sleek black card taps against the card reader and the machine starts blinking, processing it. Bucky spins around in surprise only to literally face plant into a solid wall of muscle. Muscle that smells like tea tree and mint, yum. Bucky moves backwards in surprise, bumping into the counter but getting himself away from the giant of man who’s also moving backwards after their collision.

“It’s on me.” Steve tells him with a shrug.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Bucky insists, “I insulted you.”

“You were just being honest.” Steve reasons, “I don’t get to hear people’s honest opinions all that much.”

“That has to be weird.”

Steve chuckles, “Pal, you got no idea.”

“Well, thank you. And I am sorry you heard that.” Bucky collects his bags, still dumbfounded by the whole experience.

“I’d like to hear more about why you said it. Whatever you think it is I’m missing about the twenty-first century. I’m just out for a run so if you don’t mind company on your way back to wherever, maybe we could talk?”

Bucky shakes his head. The man actually wants to learn how to be a better person after being insulted by a random grungey stranger in a bodega. “You really are Captain America.” Bucky murmurs, still stunned.

Steve chuckles again; a deep, throaty sound. “Yeah, guilty as charged. But you can just call me Steve.” Steve winks conspiratorially and Bucky thinks he might actually combust. No one should be allowed to be that good looking.

Bucky waits as the cashier rings Steve up for his things and Steve taps his card again to pay. “I thought it was weird enough getting a card that swiped when I came out of the ice, but now this one doesn’t even swipe. It just taps and poof, done.” Steve says with a faint tone of awe.

Bucky can’t imagine how many things Steve needed to adjust to after waking up from the ice. “Far cry from what you were used to, huh?”

“Well, it sure beats keeping coins in old coffee cans.”

Bucky glances over at Steve as they leave the bodega together, “You do that whole ‘awe shucks, man out of time’ thing really well. Is it real though? No offense, you can’t really be that well adjusted. You’re still human.”

Steve meets Bucky’s eyes for a moment, crystalline blue piercing into smoke grey-blue, assessing him. After a few beats he decides Bucky is someone who can handle the truth. “It’s a lot easier to do that than to curse up a storm every time some piece of tech pisses me off. Plays out a lot better with the whole Captain America image too.”

“I didn’t think Captain America even knew how to swear.” Bucky teases.

“He doesn’t, but Steve Rogers does. I grew up in Brooklyn, I know how to curse.”

Bucky laughs, swinging his bags idly as they walk in silence for a few steps.

Steve breaks the silence, reminding him of why they’re walking down the street together in the first place, “So really, why do you think I’m so out of touch? Because I thought SHIELD did a bang up job teaching me about the world and what I missed while I was out.”

“I’m sure they did, but SHIELD is still an agency with their own ideas and agendas. I promise you, you got a watered down version of real life. Do me a favor; when you get home look up what they say about The Great Depression and WWII. Do a little research on how we look back at those times. Then think about how it really was back then when you were living it. I would bet you lunch that the two don’t line up.”

“I never thought about it that way.” Steve admits. “I’ll look it up today, promise.”

They arrive on Bucky’s stoop and he climbs up a step, looking down at Steve instead of up at him. He wants to know what Steve thinks once he does some research but doesn’t know how to ask. Luckily, Steve beats him to it.

“I’m going to need your number if you’re taking me out to lunch.” Steve says casually, a light hint of teasing.

Bucky blushes, trying to remind himself that he was the one who threw the lunch bet out there. Steve Rogers would never just ask him out like that. “I… uh… um…” he fumbles anyway.

Steve takes a step back in retreat, his own cheeks flaming. “I’m sorry, that was. I’m sorry. You clearly have a sick kid to get back to, and I’m sure a lovely wife waiting for you too.” he motions at Bucky’s bags. “Thank you, for being honest with me.” Steve turns to hurry off and, thankfully, Bucky’s brain catches up with him.

“Steve, no.” he blurts out. “No wife. Sick kid, yes. But no, um, no one else. If you want my number, I’ll give it to you. My schedule is a little weird because of my job but I do want to know what you think when you get done looking things up.”

Steve smiles up at Bucky, soft and hopeful and genuine. It isn’t the All American facade grin he uses for the cameras, and it feels all the more special to Bucky because of it. Steve hands over his phone to Bucky so he can enter in his contact info and then sends him a quick text so Bucky has his number too. “So, I’ll call you later then?” Steve tries, sounding a little unsure still.

“Yeah, I’ll look forward to it, Steve.” Bucky looks up at his doorway, knowing he needs to get back to Becca but not wanting Steve to leave quite yet.

Steve takes the hint and gives him another soft smile and a small wave as he turns and heads off down the bustling city sidewalk.

Bucky stands there a moment, collecting himself and trying to process it all, before hurrying back upstairs to his little apartment to relieve Natasha of babysitting duty.

*** New chapters will be posted on Sunday and Wednesday nights until the fic is complete ***

#stucky #stucky fanfic #shrunkyclunks #modern au #modern day au #steve rogers #captain america #non winter soldier bucky barnes #nurse!bucky #parent!bucky #becca barnes #kid!becca barnes #adopted child #marvel #steve rogers x bucky barnes

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mhdiaries · 5 years ago

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Wave 3 Toralei Stripe Diary

July. Two. Five.

Ooh they’re telling math jokes now...

Q: What do you get if you divide the circumference of a jack-o-lantern by its diameter?

A: Pumpkin Pi!

The math geeks I’m stuck on this bus with think that this is funny. So funny in fact, that the harpy sitting in front of me shoots milk out of her nose when she hears the punch line. I don’t think it’s funny at all. I’d rather be listening to the music I have stored on my iCoffin but two hours into our five-hour ride home my iCoffin gave up the ghost. It should have lasted the whole trip and then some except that one of my math camp roomies “accidentally” unplugged my iCoffin charger last night when she plugged in her fright light. I don’t even know why a ghost needs a fright light. What? Was she afraid she would trip over something and go “bump in the night?” I realized what happened when we woke up this morning but we had to leave first thing so I didn’t have time to put a full charge on it. At least I got enough battery life to block out the two hours dedicated to the singing of “X Number Bottles of Ghoul Juice on the Wall.” To add to the misery the seats on this bus only have room for two monsters and Meowlody and Purrsephone are of course sitting together which left me stuck in a seat next to a troll named Teala who had never been away from her bridge for more than a day until she came to math camp.She cried herself to sleep every night. Not that any other monster but me noticed but then again I notice everything. I also noticed Teala wasn’t laughing at any of the math jokes either. In fact she seemed to be more miserable than I was. Well now, here I was thinking she was missing her bridge but if that were the case why didn’t she seem excited about going home? “Dish,” I said. She turned and looked at me for a moment and then stared back ahead. “Okay - suit yourself then,” I said and then tried to curl up in the seat to take a cat nap which I had almost accomplished when she said; “My boy-fiend broke up with me...by text...the first night of math camp.” She still wasn’t looking at me but she wasn’t crying either. “He was my first real boyfriend and...and I don’t know why I’m telling you ‘cause you don’t seem to care about any monster besides yourself and you’ll probably figure out a way to use this to make me even more miserable.” I didn’t show it, but that really hurt. Just because I enjoy the chaos that a good practical joke brings doesn’t mean that I’m intentionally cruel does it? I don’t think it does and besides; where’s the fun of kicking some monster when they’re already down? It’s a lot more fun to see the surprise on a monster’s face when they think they’ve got it all together and you can “help them” see that they don’t. So I said, “Guess you better tell me the whole story then so I can do a thorough job.” That actually brought a ghost of a smile to her face. Teala told me that her ex boy-fiend was applying to colleges and that he decided he needed to keep his “options open” in case he might meet his “intellectual equal” at school. At first I didn’t believe he actually wrote that and then she showed me the text. “Does he really think he’s that smart,” I asked. She kind of shrugged and said, “He’s scary smart but not as good at math as I am, especially withy differential equations.” She told me he really wanted to get into this one school because his favorite mad scientist taught there. I’d never heard of the school but I knew who the mad scientist was because Mr. Hack made use watch a bunch of his videos in class. The videos were deadly boring but the mad scientist had this odd accent and strange speech pattern. I used to mimic his voice in class to make Mr. Hack jump. I’d wait until Mr. Hack’s back was turned and then scream, “Huhhacckkk - theeese stuuudannts reeelease youuu wuh-ill ah-yuat wa-unce!” It cost me several days in detention and a trip to Headless Headmistress Bloodgood’s office the last time I mimicked the mad scientist but even Mr. Hack admitted he couldn’t tell the difference between the scientist’s voice and my imitation of it. We talked about a few more things and then Teala finally fell asleep. I was able to finally fall asleep as well but not before having to hear another math joke followed by an explosion of milk from the seat in front of me.

July. Two. Eight.

I went to MH today to pick up some pictures I left in the FearBook office. When I was done I went up to the belfry. It’s a good place to keep an eye on things without other eyes watching you. It’s also a good place to take a nap. Usually the hunchback who rings the bells...the bells...works up there but he was on summer vacation in France or somewhere so I had the place to myself; until Spectra came floating through that is. She thinks that she’s very stealthy but it’s almost impossible to sneak up on me and I heard the rattle of her chains long before she actually appeared. I pretended to be asleep for a moment then with my eyes still closed I said, “What do you want Spectra?” “Oh, hello Toralei. Did you hear the news?” Most monsters don’t trust anything they hear from Spectra. I know better. There’s always an element of truth in her “news”. You just need to know how to listen. Here’s an example; Spectra told me she heard that Nefera is moving back to town and will be taking over for Ms. Kindergruber in Home Ick. Not only that but Ms. Kindergruber is also going to quit teaching to become a roadie for her favorite rock and roll band. Now as much fun as it is to imagine Ms. K. climbing stacks of amps while wearing a sleeveless leather vest, bandana and steel toed boots it’s not going to happen. Although when compared to the thought of Nefera actually “lowering herself” to teach, it’s practically a done deal Ms K will be hitting the road. I’m pretty sure out of that confusing jumble of information the one true fact is that Nefera is moving back to town and probably sooner rather than later...now there’s a monster who enjoys kicking some body when it’s down.

July. Three. Zero.

Got an email today from Teala, the troll girl I sat with on the ride home from math camp. Apparently her ex boy-fiend told her that he got a call from the mad scientist he wanted to study under. The scientist told her ex that his test scores indicated a “skuhh-ill weeeakness in diffuhh-wrenntial eeeequay-shunns” and that her ex should find some monster that was intellectually superior and “geeet sah-ummm tuutorr-ing”. Her ex was certain it was the professor since “no monster could fake that voice.” He also apologized to Teala for being an arrogant jerk and asked if she would tutor him in differential equations. Teala told him that she would have to check her schedule. Sometimes it is just purrrecious the way things work out for the beast.

August. One. Three.

I bought a ball of dragon thread today for Sweet Fangs. It’s just about the only material that’s strong enough to survive more than one play session with her. I don’t know what I’m going to do when Sweet Fangs gets bigger because I’m probably going to need the whole dragon and I’m not sure mom and dad are gong to be good with that.

August. Two. Five.

M&P came over today. They’re like my sisters and I can’t imagine how boring unlife would be without them. We do just about everything together and some monsters even think we’re related but we’re not. Not that it matters since we don’t really care what other monsters think anyway. We are who we are and any monster or monsters that want to try and herd us better get ready for a long miserable day. Today we weren’t worried about being herded, today was a brainstorm session. Our mission, repay Cleo de Nile and her minions for not only ruining our perfectly planned graduation prank but also for taking away part of our valuable summer vacation by “arranging” our trip to math camp. Knowing that it was Cleo who got the better of us is almost as irritating as being wet or having my fur stroked the wrong way. I can’t believe that I actually helped her when she first wanted to be a part of the Fear Squad. Cleo didn’t even know how to do a cartwheel, much less a round off. So I took her under my claw and taught her everything I knew and since I’d been doing gymnastics from the time I was a kitten I knew a lot. I finally got Cleo to the point where she started to “get it” and instead of being a liability she started contributing. I figured that for all my hard work and leadership Nefera would make me the Fear Squad captain when she graduated. Only she didn’t - she passed it onto Cleo. I can still remember what Nefera said to me when I confronted her about it. “I didn’t want Cleo to succeed - I wanted her to be humiliated but since you helped her, you get to deal with the consequences.” Then Cleo acted as if she deserved to be the captain and that she automatically knew everything there was to know about leading the Fear Squad. She should have showed some humility and stepped aside. She didn’t so now it’s up to me to teach her some new lessons and I can’t wait for class to be back in session.

August. Three. One.

There’s a meteor shower tonight, which will give us the purrrfect opportunity to practice the three D’s. Divert. Design. Demure. First I divert attention away from myself - although tonight the meteor shower should do that for me, next I design a “surprise” for my intended victim student and then after the unexpected happens I demure - “Oh my, what happened here?” More later...

Ended up scraping the three D’s tonight, mostly because the meteor shower diverted me. I was supposed to meet M&P at this coffee shop down close to the beach - it’s the only time I go to the beach since sand + water + fur = unhappy werecat - but they were late so I grabbed a catnipuccino and waited. The owner turned down the lights of the shop so it was almost dark and then the sky was falling. The ghouls showed up just as somewhere down the beach a monster started playing guitar and I said, “Just because we’ve got nine lives doesn’t mean we need to rush through this one.” And we didn’t.

#monster high #monster high diary #toralei stripe #text post #wave 3

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mysteryartisticwriter · 5 years ago

Text

What’s Stopping You? // Peter Parker X Reader

A/N: Oh look, an update or whatever. My procrastinating ass still hasn’t even finished the ones that were requested lmao. I’ll see what I can do tbh. But for now, have this.

Also, Peter and the reader will be 18 years old since Harley is 21 in Endgame because the reader needed to be legal so that Harley doesn’t really look like a pedo lmao

Reader - 18 years old

Peter - 18 years old

Harley - 21 years old

ENDGAME: TONY STARK LIVES AU

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED BTW (FOR NOW)

Requested: Nope

Warnings: Cussing and a jealous Peter Parker ;))

Not my gif!! (Please tell me if you, the owner, would like me to take the gif down!)

You remember meeting Harley in 2013 after your dad, Tony Stark, introduced the two of you. You didn’t have many friends at the time and you dad thought you and Harley would have worked out perfectly.

And you both did. Now, 2023 and the whole Thanos and snap thing had ended, everything seemed to be back to normal. Well, mostly.

When you came back and came to the battle against Thanos’ army, it was a lot to take in all at once. But once the battle was over, everyone was able to relax once more.

Natasha had been lost getting the soul stone with Clint, but a funeral had been made after the battle in her honor. You had loved Nat, she was practically your Aunt and when you first met her, you gave her the name of ‘Auntie Natie’. She loved it and thought of you as the child she could never had. You missed her dearly but without her sacrifice, the remaining Avengers wouldn’t have defeated Thanos.

Bruce, now known as Professor Hulk, had lost his right arm bringing everyone back. But you were forever grateful to him. Clint was now reunited with his snapped away family, but still distraught after losing his best friend. Steve had decided to go back and live the life Tony recommended him, being with Peggy. You supported him with his choice, but you knew Bucky and Sam would miss the old Captain America. Thor went with the Guardians to space and left ‘New Asgard’ in the hands of the new ruler, the Valkryie.

And your father, the famous Iron Man, Tony Stark had defeated Thanos by using the stones and snapping away him and his army. Luckily, he had survived but suffered the same fate as Bruce, losing his right arm. You’d rather have an armless father than none at all. He was extremely lucky but nonetheless, you were just happy to see him.

You and Peter Parker, known as Spiderman and your best friend since you met him in the first year at Midtown High as sophmores, were one of the people snapped away five years ago and now you were back as well as everyone else who was snapped.

Which comes to now, it was now a couple of weeks since then and Nat’s funeral, and your father was getting better, you met your little half sister Morgan (who you immediately fell in love with) and went to start college with Peter, Ned and MJ.

You and Peter had come back from checking out a few colleges that you might go to.

“Dad! Mom! I’m home!” You called out, throwing your keys on the table next to the front door.

“And I am also here!” Peter yelled after you, causing you both to laugh.

“(Y/n)!” You heard a little voice squeal out.

A grin formed onto your face as you kneeled and spread your arms for your little sister to jump into them. You spun Morgan around before attacking her with kisses on her cheeks and forehead.

Peter watched in admiration at the love you and your sister showed. It had only been a couple weeks and you were already wrapped around little Morgoona’s finger. He was too, but he could never match the love you two had.

Peter sighed internally, he’s been wanting to tell you how he felt since the moment you were being dusted away before him. How he urned to hold you in his arms too and kiss you. But you had been friends for four years, how could Peter ruin all of that just from his feelings? So he kept them all to himself.

“How’s my little gumball doing?” You asked Morgan after setting her down.

“Harley’s here! Harley’s here!” Morgan replied, jumping up and down in excitement.

Your grin only grew as you heard the name of your old best friend.

“Harley? Really? Then lead the way!” Morgan grabbed onto your hand and led you towards the couches, leaving a pouting Peter in the doorway.

Once you and Morgan got into the living room, you saw your dad, mom and a familiar brown/blond haired tall boy sitting on the couches facing away from you.

“Harley!” You said, joyfully.

Almost immediately, the said boy turned towards you and a smile broke out on his face.

“(Y/n) oh my god!” You then were tackled into a large bear hug by the boy.

Just then, Peter had walked into the room to see you hugging a random boy he hadn’t seen before. Jealousy bubbled in his chest as he saw the boy hold you, just like how Peter wanted to hold you in his arms.

Tony and Pepper saw the look on Peter’s face when he came in and smirked to each other. They knew the feelings he had for their daughter, although Tony was hesitant to agree to it, he realized Peter had the same look he himself had before he started to date Pepper.

Finally, you and Harley broke apart from the hug and smiled to each other.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” You said to him.

“You do realize it’s only been like two weeks, right?” You both broke out into laughter before you noticed your other best friend standing a few meters away from you two.

“Oh right! Peter, this is my old best friend, Harley! You remember him from Nat’s...funeral, right?” You were a bit hesitant to mention your Auntie’s funeral but Harley grabbed your hand in comfort when he heard your words grow soft.

Peter was not happy with this action but put on a face smile and held his hand out to Harley.

“Yeah...I remember you. I’m Peter Parker, (Y/n)’s best friend.” The brunette introduced, putting an emphasis on ‘best’.

Harley shook Peter’s hand and said:

“Harley Kenner, I am also (Y/n)’s best friend.” A few seconds of awkward silence went by before you broke it.

“Well...I don’t meant to be rude but, Harley, why are you here? I thought you went back home a while back?” You questioned.

Harley let go of Peter’s hand and turned to you.

“I did but I decided to come back for a couple weeks to help out with Tony. Besides, I couldn’t leave my best friend behind, could I?” Replied Harley, smirking in a casual way.

“Harley will be staying with us for a while until he can go back. But why don’t you guys talk while Tony and I make dinner.” Pepper cut in, getting up from the sofa and helping Tony.

“Can I go play outside?” Morgan asked, pointing to the play fort she made.

“Alright but be careful, don’t go any deeper into the woods.” Tony said. Morgan nodded.

“Can you come play with me, sissy?” The little girl asked.

“Okay but only for a little while.” Soon, you and Morgan were out the door, giggling.

It was just Tony, Harley and Peter in the living room and Peter still seemed to have the fake smile on his face but the ex-Avenger could see right through it.

“I’m gonna go help Pepper. Play nice boys, we just cleaned these floors.” Then Tony left to the kitchen, leaving the two boys in the room.

It was an awkward few minutes of nothing before Peter finally spoke up.

“Soooo....when did you meet (Y/n)?” The spiderboy questioned.

“When I was ten so maybe around 2013? But Tony was the one who introduced us, saying we would get along very well. Since I don’t live here, (Y/n) and I usually just call or text a lot.” Harley laughed at the memory.

“Yeah...Tony said that about me and (Y/n) too. But I met her in my sophomore year.” Peter’s jealousy only grew.

‘Okay so what if he’s known her longer? He lives in somewhere away from here so I shouldn’t worry about that, right??’ Peter thought to himself.

“Alright let’s cut to the chase. I saw the way you looked towards (N/n). You like her, don’t you?” Harley smirked at Peter’s shocked expression.

“W-well...I-I wouldn’t say I-I liked her....b-but she is very pretty and kind and smart...” Peter rambled on about his best friend and crush, making Harley’s smirk deepen.

“Aww...you don’t like her. You LOVE her. That’s adorable.” Harley almost laughed out loud when he saw the red face of Peter Parker.

“W-well what about you? Do you like (Y/n)?” Peter asked but dreaded the answer he didn’t want to hear.

Instead, a low chuckle escaped from the blond boy’s mouth.

“Nope. (Y/n) is my best friend, practically my sister so that would never work out. I love her, just not the way you do.” Harley’s words comforted Peter as he let out a sigh of relief out loud.

“Oh thank god-“

“But dude, you get jealous so easily that I can’t believe you two aren’t even together yet!” Harley exclaimed.

Peter almost faced palmed.

“Is it really that obvious?” Questioned Peter.

“Duh, I saw it, Tony saw it, Pepper saw it. Hell, I think even Morgan saw it!” The boys shared a laugh as Peter became less tense from Harley.

“I would have already asked her out by now but...so much has happened in the past month that it’s hard to find a good time to do so.” Peter said as he looked out the window to see you and Morgan play fighting.

You as the evil dragon and Morgan as the knight. It was an adorable sight and Peter found his eyes on you, your (h/c) hair seemed to glow more today and your (s/c) was smooth as a baby’s bottom. And most importantly, your bright and genuine smile was the cherry on top of your beauty. Peter Parker loved you. He just wished he could say it.

Harley looked to where Peter’s eyes were and saw the same sight that Peter was seeing, only he looked into Peter’s eyes and saw love, admiration and happiness.

“Well today might be a good time.” Harley said, interrupting the hero’s thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“Look at her, she’s happy, not really busy and there’s no battle happening right now is there?” Peter shook his head. “Then what’s stopping you right now?”

Peter looked at Harley then back to you. He was right, today would be a good time because there was nothing happening at the moment (besides you playing with Morgan). Peter took a deep breath and smiled as confidently as he could.

“You’re right.” Peter felt a hand go on his shoulder and saw Harley giving him a comforting grin.

“Go get her, Peter.”

...

“Also if you hurt her, I’ll shoot you with my potato gun.”

“Wait what?”

A/N: Lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my stories!

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pufflyhallows · 6 years ago

Text

A Blessing And A Curse

Pairing: Oliver Wood x reader

Requested by @pachuh: Hey! Can I request an Oliver Wood imagine where you are just a Gryffindor power couple and everyone loves you together?? Like he’s the quidditch captain and you’re super nice to everyone in the house and help everyone. Maybe do a part where you just cuddle in the common room and people ask you for favors and Oliver is just like NO go away. Lol soryy if it’s very specific, i’ve been thinking about this for a while

a/n: Thanks again for requesting it! I loved this idea and how sweet the fic turned out. I hope you like it too!

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,791

********

You didn’t know what Oliver Wood had done to make you so stuck on him.

But there you were anyway, completely in love with the Keeper.

Your days in Hogwarts for sure had gotten more cheerful and colorful after your very first date, a year ago. It felt like your life was a jigsaw puzzle and Oliver was the missing piece you finally found. And maybe you were crazy, but you could swear everyone else thought the same.

You lost count on how many times you caught one of your fellow Griffindors watching the two of you with a tender look on their face as you walked down the corridor holding hands. Even students from other houses looked at the two of you like you weren’t from this world.

You didn’t mind it, though. You thought it was sweet and it warmed your heart to know that other people could see the love you two had for each other. It was good to spread some positivity around.

However, you also noticed a different kind of reaction. One that intrigued you. Maybe you were indeed crazy, but you felt like some students admired you two. They looked at you as if you were... famous. That sounded insane, even in your thoughts, but you couldn’t help it. It did feel like that. Specially once you caught a first-year elbowing her friend to look at the two of you, and when she did, they both smiled excitedly at each other.

Oliver, on the other hand, never seemed to notice any of that. Well, he was too busy to even breathe. He was focused on the Quidditch Cup and you weren’t going to distract him with a silly observation.

But you had to admit to yourself it was quite cute hearing the two girls whispering at each other when you walked past them.

“Do you think we’ll have our own Olivers one day?”

“I don’t know, but I want to be like Y/N!”

You wanted to turn around and tell the little girl that she was perfect already, but soon they were running in the opposite direction. You couldn’t refrain a smile, though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What an agitated week. You were barely having time to sit down lately. With the O.W.Ls coming up, every fifth-year was really close to a mental breakdown. You, being a sixth-year and having already taken those exams, were familiar with the feeling. The pressure was insane and a lot of students were having a hard time trying to cope.

You empathized with them. You had been there, after all. And what you had learned from that time was that group studies were the best way of dealing with that pressure. Besides helping each other with the subjects they most struggled with, in a group study the students were able to let out their frustrations and insecurities regarding the exams. You felt so safe, accepted and understood in your group studies... You wanted that for those nervous fifth-years too.

And that was why you had been so busy that week. After a shy boy asked you to help him with a Potions’ chapter, you decided to start your little project. You asked him to tell his classmates that if they were having trouble with a specific subject, they could come talk to you. And oh boy did they come.

The three subjects that seemed to get most people in trouble were Potions, DADA and Transfiguration. History of Magic and Charms had their reasonable amount of lost students too, with the other subjects having a little less. You noted everything in a parchment roll and started carrying it with you. Everytime a student came to you and said they were struggling with a subject, you wrote down their name and which subject.

You were excited about your little project, but you realized you were spending less and less time with Oliver. It was already rare to have him all to yourself because of the Quidditch practices, but now it was nearly impossible.

“We need to win this one,” he whispered to you during a class, “If we lose to Hufflepuff like we lost to Ravenclaw, our chances of winning the Cup are gone.”

“I know,” you whispered back, “I’m proud of you for working hard. But I miss you.”

“I promise you we’ll have more time after this game.” Oliver realized Professor Flitwick had his back to the students, so he put one arm around your shoulders and gently pulled you closer to him, “I miss you too. You’ve been quite busy.”

“I have a lot to do. My project has been getting more attention than I anticipated.”

“Your project?”

Professor Flitwick turned around and Oliver quickly removed his arm from your shoulders, you immediately missing the physical contact.

The teacher didn’t take his eyes off the students as he explained the assignment, which unfortunately meant you had to stop talking to Oliver unless you wanted to be called out in front of the whole class.

Soon enough the Professor dismissed the students to have lunch. During meals was the only time you were sure you would meet with Oliver and be able talk to him, since this year you only had a few subjects together. Of course it also meant in the Great Hall you would be surrounded by friends and the entire school, so you couldn’t get as intimate as you two would like to. And when you had free time, you had to keep up with the vast amount of homework from your N.E.W.T.-level classes. Besides that, Oliver had Quidditch and now you had your project. So yeah, meals were kind of a big deal, but this time you had to use it for a different purpose.

As soon as you sat down at the Gryffindor table, you started talking to your friends and other older students about your project. You explained to them that you were starting group studies for the fifth-years’ preparation for the O.W.Ls. You asked if anyone could help as you needed a tutor for each group, that you divided by subjects: a group study for Potions, another one for Defense Against the Dark Arts, another for Transfiguration and so on.

You were happy to see how many people volunteered to help, even though they had a lot of work themselves. You showed them your notes and started writing down who was going to teach what. You got Charms and was really excited to meet with your pupils.

A feeling of gratitude took over your heart as you put the parchment roll back in your bag. You didn’t notice, but Oliver watched you with a proud yet discrete smirk on his face.

“That is your project?” he whispered to you as your friends chatted loudly.

You nodded, smiling at him.

“What do you think?”

“You’re so kind, Y/N. I’m really proud to get to call you my girlfriend.”

Oliver thought no one would notice, but as soon as his lips touched yours, Lee Jordan practically yelled:

“We’ve been blessed!”

“Mom and dad!” one of your friends cried.

You giggled, covering your eyes with one hand. Oliver blushed slightly, but that didn’t stop him from replying in a quite annoyed tone.

“You guys couldn’t pretend you didn’t see it, huh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bye, Y/N!”

“Bye,” you waved at the last pupil as you both left the library after the first group study session.

You felt so happy. Spending time with the fifth-years and seeing them encouraging and motivating each other made you feel slightly emotional, though, because it made you remember when it was you and your friends going through that together. It was how you and Oliver became closer.

You smiled to yourself, remembering that you two shared your first kiss at the library late in the night, hiding from Madam Pince.

“At last...” you heard the familiar voice behind you in the now empty corridor. You turned around and met the eyes of your boyfriend. He was just standing there, his hands inside his pockets and that usual proud smirk on his face. His smile only got bigger as you approached him and threw your arms around his neck while he placed his around your waist in a tight hug. “How was it?”

“Good,” you replied, still holding him tight, “They said I was saving their lives. A bit dramatic, I would say. But I really liked them.”

Oliver slowly let go of you so he could look you in the eyes.

“That’s good to hear,” he said in a low voice, nodding, “But I missed you.”

“I thought you were with the team?”

“You did spend a lot of time at the library...” he smirked, “It rained. I cancelled practice. Been waiting for you in the common room for hours.”

“Oh... What time is it?” you frowned.

“It’s past curfew, that’s for sure.”

“Oh God, I totally lost track of time. I told Jamie I would only leave when he was done and I didn’t want to rush him, he was so close!” you explained, slightly excited about the student’s improvement.

“You’re cute,” Oliver smiled, “It’s okay. The common room is probably empty by now. We’ll have it all to ourselves.”

You bit your lower lip. “Is that so?”

He nodded, moving closer and pecking a brief, teasing kiss on your lips.

“C’mon,” he whispered, taking your bag from your shoulder and hanging it on his own, intertwining your fingers together right after.

Oliver was right. The common room was indeed empty. You felt thankful for the silence in the environment, after hours of listening to people talking. You weren’t complaining though, you had totally signed up for that! But it was still tiring.

You basically melted into the couch nearest the fireplace. Only now you could feel how tired you really were. Oliver placed your bag on the coffee table and sat down next to you. Without hesitation, you sat on his lap and rested your head on his chest. He seemed slightly surprised by your sudden change of position, but it didn’t mean he didn’t like it. He held you tight against him, wrapping his arms around you. It was amazing how comfortable both of you were like that.

“Hm,” you closed your eyes, “I missed this.”

“Me too.”

Taking advantage of the fact that his uncovered neck was really close to your lips, you placed a soft kiss there. Oliver instantly held you even tighter and you placed another kiss.

Your boyfriend started slowly playing with the ends of your hair as you kept softly kissing his neck. The atmosphere around you was perfect. You felt at peace.

“I wish I could sleep with you...” you whispered in his ear.

“We could sleep here,” he thought out loud.

“It wouldn’t be good for your back,” you shook your head.

“You’re worried about that and not someone finding us here in the morning?” he smiled.

“Well, we’re not a secret. Everyone here knows you belong to me,” you teased, placing yet another kiss on his neck.

When Oliver was about to reply, you both heard footsteps coming from the stairs to the dormitories. Your boyfriend sighed as you got off his lap to sit back on the couch.

“Thought you weren’t worried about people seeing us like that,” he raised an eyebrow, jokingly.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, but you had a silly smile on your face.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. Hey, Oliver,” you both heard the fifth-year boy greet you from the last step.

“Hey, Jamie,” you waved at him from the couch, Oliver did the same.

“Didn’t expect to see someone here,” the boy confessed, looking down at his pyjamas, “Specially you two.”

“Don’t worry,” you shook your head, feeling a little weird with that ‘specially you two’.

“I actually came downstairs to pick up my book that I forgot here,” he said walking towards one of the tables, “I couldn’t sleep, I kept thinking about that Charm I couldn’t do.”

“It’s understandable,” you nodded, “But you improved a lot today. I’m really proud.”

“Thank you,” the boy smiled, “Um... Since you’re here, Y/N, could you- could you show me how to do it one more time?”

“Um... Sur-”

“It’s late, Jamie,” Oliver interrupted you, “Y/N is tired. And I’m sure you’re tired too, maybe you should go rest now. Tomorrow you’ll try again.”

Although Oliver was polite and gentle, he sounded firm. Jamie shyly agreed and thanked you once again, to which you replied with a ‘see you tomorrow’.

As soon as the boy left, Oliver pulled you back to his lap.

“That was a bit cold,” you commented.

“Y/N, love, it’s past midnight. Your shift ended long ago.”

“Yeah, but... I feel bad,” you wrinkled your nose.

“He’ll be just fine. Don’t worry.”

Your boyfriend slowly came closer and pressed his lips on yours. You kissed him back as gently. One of his hands was now on the small of your back, the other moving up and down your thigh.

You placed your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, feeling your heart skip beats as your lips moved together.

Unfortunately, since the two of you were very busy, none of you noticed the mumbling coming from the stairs and it was too late when you finally broke the kiss.

“Beautiful!” Fred Weasley started clapping.

“A work of art!” George agreed, also clapping.

“Shh!” you brought your index finger to your lips, “You’ll wake the entire tower.”

“Why are you two up?” Oliver asked with a disapproval look on his face, “Tomorrow is going to be a long day. You guys should be sleeping.”

“We could say the same about you, Don Juan,” Fred remarked.

“Don’t think because you’re the captain you won’t have to work as hard,” George added with an authoritarian voice.

“Never thought that,” Oliver replied.

“Y/N, you’re good with Charms, aren’t you?” the younger twin asked, ignoring his captain.

“No, she’s not,” Oliver answered before you had the chance, “She’s terrible at it. The worst I’ve ever seen.”

You bit your lower lip to hold back your laugh as you softly squeezed his shoulder.

“Wow. You call yourself her boyfriend?” Fred pretended to be shocked. “And to think that I shipped you,” he shook his head.

“Fine, just pretend we’re not here then,” George said.

“Yes, don’t look behind. We’re busy too,” his older brother agreed as they both walked towards the book shelf and started moving things around, their backs facing you and your boyfriend. You couldn’t see what they were doing exactly, but you knew it wasn’t something good. Well, at least not to the person that prank was destined to.

“Is it a curse?” Oliver whispered to you, “Are we cursed?”

“No,” you looked at him, “We’re blessed.”

“Maybe it’s both. I’m lucky to have you, that’s for sure, but... I wish we had more privacy. People always seem to be around and... staring.”

“You noticed it too?” you asked surprised.

“You can’t really not notice.”

“I wouldn’t say they’re staring, though. It’s more like they like to see us together.”

“Staring,” he concluded, making you chuckle.

“Can you blame them? You’re so hot,” you smiled, pressing your lips on his.

“You’re one to talk,” he smiled as well.

“Say you love each other!” George’s voice popped the bubble you two were inside. You both looked at the other side of the room and saw the twins watching you with smirks on their faces.

“Oh God,” Oliver sighed, his head falling back.

“Let’s get out of here,” you whispered, although you were very amused, and took his hand in yous, dragging him out of the Common Room despite Fred and George’s protests.

No need to say that night was the first time you slept together.

And the first time you got a detention too.

********

#oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood fluff #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood fanfic #oliver wood fic #hogwarts #harry potter imagines #harry potter #harry potter imagine #gryffindor #slytherin #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #random tag #I'm stupid

1K notes · View notes

ladyhistorypod · 4 years ago

Text

Episode 14: Thanksgiving Special

Sources:

Susan La Flesche

The History Reader

PBS: New Perspectives on the West

Hampton University

Hampton Archives

Nebraska Studies

Further Reading/Watching: PBS American Masters, Smithsonian Magazine

Sacagawea

Brooklyn Museum

National Museum of the American Indian Blog

Native Mascots And Other Misguided Beliefs (NMAI)

National Women’s History Museum

Nat Geo Kids

Ted Ed

Further Reading: Smithsonian American Women: Remarkable Objects and Stories of Strength, Ingenuity, and Vision from the National Collection, I Am Sacagawea, Sacajawea of the Shoshone

Zitkala-Sa

Utah Women’s History

Women and the American Story

Akta Lakota Museum and Cultural Center

National Parks Service

Further Reading: Women in America, Extra and Ordinary: Zitkala-Sa (Smithsonian Libraries)

Click below for the transcript of this episode!

Haley: So how old are your guys’ parents, and did you ever growing up like regard them as like the old parents?

Alana: My… so my… Here's what's really fucking me up these days, is that Joe Biden graduated from the University of Delaware the same year my dad was born. So my dad was born in June of 1965 and Joe Biden graduated University of Delaware probably like May of 1965. So that's what's making me uncomfortable these days.

Lexi: You know when my mom graduated from the University of Delaware?

Alana: When?

Lexi: The nineties. (Laughing)

Alana: So my parents, they’re like kind of old. My mom was born in 1963, but my mom is also the third of four children.

Haley: Because my mom was born in ‘69 and my dad ‘67. And Robert’s parents… I don't know exactly when they were born but I know it's in the cluster of my parents. But my mom and dad were always regarded as like the younger parents. And it came up today because my sister's boyfriend's parents have always been regarded– my mom's like oh they’re older because my sister's boyfriend, Stephen, is the youngest of four. So my mom and dad got married three days after my mom graduated from college, but they waited seven years. Like they owned a freakin’ Subway and went backpacking in Europe before having me. Like they lived their life, if you will, and then they had kids. But all my friends, like growing up, all their parents are like five to ten years older than my parents.

Lexi: So my parents got married at twenty three.

Alana: Also ridiculous.

Lexi: They were born in 1972. No shade giving my mom’s age out, but honestly she's super young. We get mistaken for sisters no matter where we go, especially if we’re with my grandmother. They tell her she has two lovely daughters. I don't know if that's an insult to me or a compliment to my mother…

Haley: A compliment to your mother.

Alana: It’s definitely a compliment to your mother.

Lexi: My mother was invited to frat parties when she visited me in college several times.

Haley: No, your mother is smokin’ hot. Like my mother–

Lexi: She was the marching band MILF. Do you know the song Stacy's Mom?

Alana: Of course I know Stacy's Mom.

Lexi: The marching band, when we played it would sing Lexi’s mom.

Alana, singing: Lexi’s mom has got it goin’ on.

[INTRO MUSIC]

Alana: Hello and welcome to Lady History; the good, the bad, and the ugly ladies you missed in history class. by whipping sort of as always is Lexi Lexi what are you thankful for.

Lexi: I am thankful for you guys.

Alana: That’s gross. I am also joined(ish) by Haley. Haley, are you a white meat or dark meat kinda gal?

Haley: I really like– I guess like the– like a turkey leg? That’s dark meat. That’s my jam. I'm also not necessarily a turkey person.

Alana: And I'm Alana and I'm team captain of the cranberry sauce defense squad.

[Turkeys gobbling]

Alana: I don't think there is a good word for the people who were in the Americas before white people came to the Americas.

Lexi: There is not a good single word.

Haley: I also think that it's not us as non those people…

Alana: That's the thing. And that was the conversation that we had–

Haley: And I hate that I said “those people” because it shouldn’t be “those people” but like

but like for my grad school, we have a whole section of like repatriation, NAGPRA, all that lovely good stuff in our law class. And with our history and theory class there's always like this– kinda wanna call it a symposium?– We asked the question, and I think it was my professor who posed it, because she's like I have to talk about it and I'm a Jewish white woman. I know people like have their preference on Jewish people versus Jews and I want to be able to teach the correct thing. And everyone in the room said Native Peoples just because so many different tribes or groups don't consider themselves American. So that’s what I use. And I like that the like phrase and I’m probably– someone else probably saying this but I’m gonna make it up for myself right now; just go with what you know until you're proven wrong. Because like that's what I know and like for now.

Alana: But that's the thing that we were talking about not on the podcast, elsewhere, about how like I've never heard an actual Latinx person use the phrase Latinx.

Haley: I do not consider myself–

Alana: Except for on One Day at a Time actually.

Lexi: I feel like I always go with if I need to call someone something I'm going to ask them–

Haley: Yes.

Lexi: –What they identify as, and if I don't know them well enough to have that conversation maybe I shouldn't be speaking for them in any way… Or not speaking for them, but I shouldn't be like representing them. But it's really complicated when we talk about history because a lot of the words we use didn't exist then. Like Ida B. Wells considered herself Negro, and we wouldn't… we wouldn't probably use that word now.

Haley: Well like with pronouns. We don’t assume–

Alana: Exactly.

Haley: –pronouns. So like… Because I feel very weird when people like assume like my race or ethnicity. And I identify that… I identify with being Persian or Cuban more so than being a female if that makes sense.

Lexi: Right.

Haley: I've never… it's not like I'm non– like non binary. I identify as female but I've never been like a FEMALE.

Speaker 3: I feel like with gender it's so– so easy to once you decide to do it just start using they as a default when you're not sure what someone's preference is, and there's not that for race or ethnicity. There’s not like a default word where you can say a word and not be offensive. Like, okay. It's like the thing with the Washington Redskins which is now the Washington Football Team. There were a lot–

Alana: Which is what my cousin always called it. Was always calling it the Washington Football Team.

Lexi: Actually apparently they picked that because a lot of people did just call it that. But also it's not even in Washington DC so it frustrates the crap out of me. But apparently like a bunch of people were up in arms about it that were Native peoples but then a bunch of Native peoples were like nah it's chill. And so it's like you can't say that all these people agree on something.

Haley: Yeah.

Alana: Yeah.

Haley: That's where we go back to like–

Lexi: There isn't a single hive mind of all of these people you’re trying to represent. Everyone has these own little different versions. And so, you know, what I've been told by a lot of people is like narrow it down. Like for example if you're Omaha, you’re Omaha. If you’re Hoganashone you’re Hoganashone. Because that's how they like refer to themselves.

Haley: Yeah. Yes. And I’ve heard this too. Like– I’m gonna say this. I was on Tik Tok.

(Alana and Lexi laughing)

Lexi: Honestly cultural Tik Tok is very fun. Like culture-based Tik Tok.

Haley: I’ve landed myself on what was called by this group of Tik Tok– this flavor of Tik Tok– Native and Indigenous Tik Tok.

Lexi: Yeah I've seen that.

Haley: But I noticed that for the Tik Tok-ers who are in Canada would use Indigenous.

Alana: I will never tell someone of one group that something is not anti that group because I don't want gentiles to tell me what is and what is not antisemitic, I don't want men to tell me what is and is not misogynistic, I don't want… what's my other identity? Oh, I'm queer. I don't want straight people to tell me what is and is not homophobic–

Haley: “What's my other identity?”

Alana: “What’s my other identity?”

Lexi: “I can’t remember. I’ve got so many.”

Alana: What’s my other one? I’m like marginalized in three different ways and I don’t remember what the third one is.

Archival Audio: For our clinics are all specialized. Wednesday afternoons, for instance, we only see expectant mothers. But each one is a different problem, because each one is a different person. They feel they're special, too, and always seem amazed when they discover they have something in common with the other women, but that’s natural. After all, we all think of our health problems as personal problems.

Lexi: Today I'm going to tell you the story of Susan La Flesche, the first Native American to receive a medical degree. And as we discussed, we’re not sure exact on the terms people prefer. Susan lived a long time ago and regarded herself as Native American, that’s why I'm using that term, but I understand that some people may not use that term to refer to themselves. But she identified as that, so that's what I'm calling her. So yes, she was the first Native American to receive a medical degree. Susan was an Omaha woman. Her father Iron Eyes, or Chief Joseph La Flesche, the last Omaha chief selected by traditional tribal methods, and he was the son of a Frenchman and an Omaha woman so he was half French, half Omaha. And as a chief he believed the only way to save his people was to mix elements of their culture with Western culture and for his people to get an education. And it was these beliefs that shaped Susan's future. Her mother was One Woman, or Mary La Flesche, and Susan was born on the Omaha reservation in Nebraska in 1865. As a child Susan, witnessed a Native woman die because the local white doctor would not provide her care. This event sparked Susan’s interest in becoming a medical professional, with the goal of helping Native people. She attended a school on the reservation until she was fourteen and then she went to the Elizabeth Institute for Young Ladies in New Jersey. Can you imagine being fourteen years old and traveling from Nebraska to New Jersey on a train by yourself? That’s crazy. That’s absolutely crazy.

Alana: Goals. I wanna do it. I love trains. I love trains. I wanna do it.

Lexi: So I think she must have been really brave, because it just that's… that's pretty amazing. A long trip for a little girl.

Alana: Especially as like first of all it being a young woman which is already dangerous, no matter what, and she's also from this like marginalized community.

Lexi: Yes.

Alana: That it's like double dangerous, quadruple dangerous because she was fourteen.

Lexi: Yeah. It's crazy. It's crazy. Must’ve been really really brave. And really wanted to go to the school I guess. So she went there for three years and at seventeen Susan returned home and she taught at the Mission School on the Omaha reservation. At the school, she worked with Alice Fletcher, who was a white woman who was an ethnologist who studied and recorded American Indian culture. And she came to live and work with the Omaha because of her passion for archaeology so she wanted to study living people to better understand the past, which has been–

Alana: Ethnographic archaeology.

Lexi: Yeah it's a thing that a lot of archaeologists like to do. When Fletcher fell ill, Susan helped her recover, and after seeing Susan’s skills and passions for medicine and health care, Fletcher urged Susan to travel east and pursue a degree in medicine. Susan enrolled in the Hampton Institute, which was a school in Virginia that was built after the Civil War to educate formerly enslaved people and had since become a hub for educating Black Americans and American Indians. When Susan was attending Hampton, a woman named Dr. Martha Waldron was working as a teacher and the resident physician at the school. Martha was a graduate of the Women's Medical College of Pennsylvania and suggested that Susan pursue further education there. Alice Fletcher, who had encouraged Susan to study medicine, assisted Susan by helping her apply for scholarships from the US Office of Indian Affairs and the Women's National Indian Association. In 1889, after two years in a three year program, Susan graduated top of her class from medical school. She spent one year doing an internship, which was similar to a modern day medical residency program in Philadelphia and then she returned home. At home, she became the primary care provider for about twelve hundred people, working at the reservation’s boarding school. In 1894, she married Henry Picotte, a Sioux man who had previously been traveling and working in Wild West shows. And they kept it all in the family with Susan's sister Marguerite deciding to marry Harry's brother Charles. So… that’s… that’s fun! After getting married, Henry and Susan had two sons and Susan opened a private practice which served both non white and white patients in her community. When Henry fell ill, Susan personally nursed him, all while working full time and caring for their two sons. At the age of forty, Susan became partially deaf, but kept working. In addition to being a doctor, Susan ran a children's library, worked as a Sunday school teacher, founded a quilting club, translated legal papers, and advocated for prohibition. In 1913, she opened a reservation hospital serving Omaha and Winnebago tribes. It was the first private hospital on a reservation anywhere in the country. Today, the building is a museum dedicated to tribal history and telling the story of Susan. In 1915, at just fifty years old, Susan passed away. Susan was important to her people because as aspects of their culture were taken away from them, she was able to draw a balance between traditional medicine and the practices that she learned at Western medical school. This worked because many of her people were still unsure about Western medicine, so by mixing their traditional healing practices with Western practices, she was able to develop a culturally specific plan of treatment. Her people grew to trust her and she began to be regarded as a modern medicine woman. She is a great example of why cultural representation is important and can impact public health. I also highly suggest watching the PBS video that I linked on the tumblr in the further watching. It’s super well made and it tells a really wonderful version of her story in a lot more detail than we're able to cover on our show and it has really good tie-ins to modern needs of communities like Susan's and interviews some modern female doctors and their communities which is really cool. That’s it. Short one.

Haley: I like– I like that story a lot.

Alana: I like that story too.

Lexi: Yeah there's not a lot about her like…

Alana: Right.

Lexi: People don't record shit, so it’s mostly just her accomplishments, unfortunately.

(Audio from Night at The Museum)

Haley: So my story is about– drum roll please– the retelling of the story of Sacagawea. And for all of you who might be screaming my name right now, saying Hey I'm not pronouncing her name correctly, hold the phone we’ll get there. I first need to do my universal apologies for pronouncing any words, even historically American English words, incorrectly because we all know me; words aren't the greatest for my speech mouth. And to start us off, I'm switching over to the like I said that actual pronunciation– Saka-Gawea. And it's Sacagawea because in my research there's not a soft G in the Hidatsa language, which translates to bird woman. So side note, there are a bunch of different spellings, but if we're going based on the true like translation– Sa-Ka-Ga is bird, and it's spelled with a G. So Sacagawea is Sacajawea but just like–

Lexi: Can I just say, that's way prettier than Sacajawea.

Haley: Yeah because like for some Sacagawea it's like you have the G, or you have S. A. K. A. K. A. W. E. A, or instead of the G. it’s a J. But there's no hard – or, there's no soft Gs it's only hard Gs. And as a person who has a really hard time pronouncing things from reading because of the dyslexia spectrum that we know to love, it's gonna– it's gonna be balls to the walls bananas.

Alana: It's like… Was it the first Night at the Museum movie or the second Night at the Museum movie where she was like a character?

Lexi: The first.

Alana: The first one. And then the museum like–

Lexi, whispering: And then she fell in love with Theodore Roosevelt

Alana: Oh yeah, and then she fell in love with Theodore Roosevelt which was so… oh NO.

Haley: I’m glad you brought that up because I cut that part out.

Lexi: That’s a whole can of worms.

Alana: But like there's that whole thing about them pronouncing it wrong but it's always Sacaga-wee-ah or Sacaga-way-a, and I’m like both of you are wrong.

Haley: Glad you brought up Night at the Museum because I had a whole tangent on that but then I was like roll back Haley your notes are already long to begin with.

Alana: You cannot expect me to not bring up Night at the Museum if it is even tangentially relevant.

Lexi: I love them, I hate them. It's an incredible thing.

Haley: Yeah.

Alana: Rami Malek!

Haley: Yes he was–

Alana: My first love!

Haley: Back to the notes. So for our listeners out of the United States, you may have heard of Sacagawea, of course with the Lewis and Clark exploring the west. However, I'm sorry– not sorry– to say that there's a solid chance that what you learned was completely incorrect and I'm looking at you United States education system. All of y’all education system just– the poop garbage, dumpster fire, whatever you would like to say. But let me pause for a second and explain a little bit why that story is kind of messed up because not only do we have like a white savior complex with like Lewis and Clark, we also just have a lot of sexism. Like sexism is painted in semen here. Like all over the board. No menstrual blood whatsoever to like brighten up this dreary painting of shit. Alana’s face right now is… holy crap what is she saying.

Alana: It's just a little bit like– Lexi what's the word that I'm looking for that is like… the sentiment behind it is that not all men have semen that not all women menstruate. Do you know I mean? That's my thing with–

Lexi: There's a single word? There's a single word for that?

Alana: There’s like a word for something… like reducing it to… whatever.

Haley: Yes.

Alana: And transphobia isn't quite right.

Speaker 1: That’s exactly why I use the phrase all semen in here. Because it's totally like heterosexual men explaining–

Alana: Cis heterosexual men.

Haley: Yes.

Lexi: The cis white boys?

Haley: Yes.

Alana: The cis white boys.

Haley: The cis white boys. However, it's a reason why the paintbrush is a phallic symbol, that’s all I’m gonna say. And while I will probably not tell the most accurate story, it's gonna be a hell of a lot better than what we've been given to because… I'm gonna be up front. There's so much more research I could have done and that's with all our stories. Like I think I put like three hours at least into like average for each story, sometimes more. I put in a lot more for this one. While Sacagawea was a Native people who symbolized peace and cooperation as she like navigated Lewis and Clark– with you know, the baby strapped on her back that like famous trope we have– through the west and like the Pacific… to get to the Pacific Ocean. There's a lot more to that story. First, because their crew was a crew of forty plus people; it wasn't just like the three of them moseying along like a hundred percent of the time, but we'll get to that. And even before then, I don't know about you guys but I never heard of like her growing up or her as an actual Native person. It was always “she’s with Lewis and Clark. Like she with the white people now,” never her life story as a whole, just this one small part, but I learned about Lewis and Clark's whole life story. And boy Howdy am I gonna talk about how she saved all their collective buttholes. So, while this story is both Native people’s legend and journals from the Lewis and Clark that we keep talking about. And we know that oral tradition it still history. So there are holes obviously with this timeline, but we know that she was born, or we think she was born in the Shoshone tribe in Idaho and was kidnapped at age twelve, possibly age ten. What I didn't know though is that when she was kidnapped– I knew she was kidnapped, but this is bad, I didn't actually know who kidnapped her, and it was a neighboring tribe. I believe it was the Hidatsa tribe? It was noted as a rival tribe. And from there she was sold into slavery and forced to marry Toussaint Charbonneau– C. H. A. R. B. O. N. N. E. A. U., we’ll go with that– a French Canadian fur trapper who had other quote Shoshane “wives.” So this wasn't… this wasn't great. Like it wasn't great to begin with, but we're just like still riding that train of yes you're not gonna tell a bunch of elementary school kids this story but let's not paint the picture and happy childhood. And in 1804, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark recruited no other than– I'm gonna call him TC, TC because I can't pronounce either of his names and I'm gonna keep fumbling on it– to be their wilderness guide. The geography of it was that the country almost doubled in size, but the history of it was the Louisiana Purchase was acquired by France.

Lexi: Acquired from France.

Haley: Yes. They were already on their expedition by the time they met up with TC and Sacagaweas. Sacagawea, who was sixteen and pregnant at the time, accompanied the men, and she was the only female of this shitshow of a shindig. And by shitshow of a shindig, this was like forty something other men with Lewis and Clark– like they had a whole rodeo. And we see this a lot that if people went on an expedition it wasn't just that group of people but they brought like their cooks, their wives, their children, people to like bring their food, i.e. like livestock because we didn't have fridges and such. So that like was not surprising to me. What was surprising was like that's a valuable teaching point, was just like to teach kids how did people move from place to place. And this is at the point where Clark notes that she was the most valuable member of their group, because although T. C. was like hired to give them like geography, he was like a noted French Canadian and a fur trapper, but noted as like he was not good at like navigating compared to Sacagawea and like the other Native peoples in the area. It was obvious and even Lewis and Clark were like “oh, she better” which she was. And she spoke both Shoshone and Hidatsa, and so she was like the interpreter for the white men, like literally. And that's the part like they got correct– and they being like the education system– that point was correct. She was interpreter, and shout out to the Brooklyn Museum for literally giving me the quote “interpreter for the group of white men”. Even the Brooklyn Museum’s not playing around. And obviously these white men weren't liked amongst the other Native peoples tribes, but when they saw a woman who wasn't considered to be a warrior– and that's like the key point– it wasn't just that they had a Native person with them. it was that she had a child with her, she spoke their language, and like didn't give off any alarm bells. Because also like there's that misconception that all Native peoples were friendly to each other. There are different like rivalries amongst tribes. That was just pure luck for them that that worked out. And so of course Lewis and Clark wanted to make their main man TC because his fur trapping knowledge and like how he knew the geography. And like I said that was… sure, he did some stuff. But Sacagawea basically said hold my beer, and she clearly knew where she was supposed to go. She clearly knew also just like the weather patterns, where to find food, and multiple occasions when they were like the Yellowstone area and it's really cold at night… we're in the parts where it's just snowing and dark for many many many parts of the winter. And she would like be able to not only like find but like somewhat grow or just like keep food in a way that like they would be able to sustain themselves with eating. So it was like a group effort by everyone. It wasn't just like Lewis and Clark being like “we got this, we’re gonna do it, we're gonna get to the Pacific Ocean in the middle of the winter.” Fast forward a bit– and there are a bunch of other stories of her being a complete badass, like diving into water when their canoe tips over and saving like all the important stuff; food, even like Lewis and Clark's journals.But we have to move forward, sadly, to the end of her expedition and just give her a well rounded story like I said. I wanted to hear this as a kid. And while the expedition ended in 1806, she kind of still knew Lewis and Clark. And let me do a side note here she did not receive payment for this expedition. Because like, yeah. That sounds like the right thing to do, I say with all my sarcastic cells in my body. There are a lot of them, by the way, so we're all doing a chorus of sarcastic singing. And three years later in 1809– another side note this is where at least my history kind of definitely has different stories, there's no concrete this is what happened… There wasn't Snapchat recording everything, I guess. Clark invited Sacagawea and her family to live in Saint Louis and he also later adopted her son Jean Baptiste, and he called him Pompy, and a baby girl Lisette. And it's noted that she separated from T. C. who was abusive, but after this point like our timeline, we call dates in history, we know very little. And again, with this debated topic, her death is in that category. So records from Fort Manuel where like she lived there at a time, she supposedly died in December 1812 from typhus. And going off what Native peoples’ oral histories because again, oral histories are histories, she lived on the Shoshone lands in Wyoming until 1884. And regardless, Sacagawea clearly became somewhat of a legend with her own story being told by writers, filmmakers, historians in a time where women especially Native and/or Indigenous women, were absolutely thought of as weak, not helpful, and sometimes even dangerous. So you might be asking yourself, “Haley, where do I find other resources?” Obviously check out our show notes, they are quite lovely, and honestly children's books. The most recent ones were kind of on point. They're all about like– especially now in 2020. And then specifically in the show notes look at the Brooklyn Museum and the National Women's History Museum. And that is my story.

Alana: Hey National Women’s History Museum, do you want to give me an internship?

Haley, singing: Manifestation.

(Archival Violin Music)

Alana: Zitkala-Sa was born February 22, 1876, that makes her a Pisces. She's technically an Aquarius/Pisces cusp. And Zitkala-Sa means red bird in the Sioux language. She was born on the Yankton Indian Reservation in South Dakota. Her mother was Sioux and her father was white. Her father abandoned the family and initially when I see white father, Indigenous mother… that is alarm bells in my head, but she did have an older brother, so less alarm bells. Quieter alarm bells. And just as an FYI, a blanket statement, we had the discussion that we're not really sure if we should say Native or Indigenous so I kind of use both, mixing it up. If you know someone who has an opinion let us know and we’ll use that going forward. I think that's kind of a good general statement for this podcast; is correct us if we're wrong and we'll change our ways. Because that’s how you–

Haley: Correct us with kindness.

Alana: Oh, yeah. Correct us with kindness. Be nice.

Haley: We have feelings.

Alana: We can’t handle it. Don't be mean to me. At the age of eight, so 1884 she left the reservation when Quaker missionaries came to recruit for their– massive air quotes– school and it was only a school if by school you mean forced assimilation centers, but we'll get to that a little bit later. It was literally called the White’s Indiana Manual Labor Institute, and the U. S. is still racist, I'm not saying that it’s not racist, but at least we're not racist enough to let something with a name like that slide. I feel like… baby steps, little progress. Zitkala-Sa’s mother didn't want her to go because her brother had come back from a school and she didn't like it but Zitkala-Sa begged and begged because for kids who had never left the reservation, it seemed like a magical place and it sounded so cool. Her mother did eventually acquiesce because there were no schools on the reservation and she really wanted Zitkala to have an education. But she later wrote that the second she got on the train to Indiana she regretted fighting so hard for it. She was forced to cut her hair and pray like a Quaker, which she hated. Pray like a Christian is like… that's intergenerational trauma in my heart. She actually hid from the people who were working at the school and they had to tie her to a kitchen chair and cut her hair. I don't know if it was actually a kitchen chair, I just wanted to make a Leonard Cohen reference. Hey Alana, are you Jewish? Yes. But she really did enjoy learning how to read and write and to play the piano and the violin. She was given the name Gertrude Simmons, which is a footnote that will only come up at the very end of the story. In 1887, she returned to her mother's home but she felt like she didn't belong there. And this was a common theme among children who had been sent to these– massive air quotes– schools because they felt like they didn't really belong to their Indigenous culture but they also weren't really like the white Americans. In 1895, she enrolled at Earlham College for a teacher training program and then transferred to the New England conservatory to continue studying violin. In 1900, she became a music teacher at the Carlisle Indian School but left because it reminded her of her traumatic experiences at a similar school. She basically came to the realization, she was just like “oh shit, they are designed to take our culture from us.” She was like “I couldn’t be part of that anymore.” In 1901, she published Old Indian Legends, which was a compilation of all of her previous writings and culminated in a lifelong project of translating Sioux traditions into English, because this is a quote from her from the beginning of the book, “America in the last few centuries has acquired a second tongue,” which is so shady. And I love it. “Acquired a second tongue” is just like. Mm. So also in 1901 she went back to South Dakota and took a job at the United States Bureau of Indian Affairs, which I will refer to going forward as the B. I. A., where she met Captain Raymond Bonnin, who was also a Sioux, but I couldn't find what his like Sioux name was, since he was also full Sioux, but probably not Raymond. But then they did have a son and name him Raymond so I’m not sure.I don't know. They were transferred to Utah, where Zitkala-Sa taught again, but not at a white school, at a reservation school where the children lived at home and she found that like to be a balance. In 1910, she met William Hansen who was a music professor at Brigham Young University, and in 1913 they completed The Sun Dance Opera which was about a Sioux ritual that the federal government had banned, which I think is… What a workaround. What a way to beat the system. She viewed music as a way to bridge the cultures that she was a part of and it did, and that culminated in The Sun Dance Opera. She joined the Society of American Indians, which is a group that lobbied for citizenship for Indigenous people and cultural preservation because nuance. Which is a thing that I am feeling recently. Just nuance. Tattoo it on my forehead, shout it from the rooftops. Nuance. She became the secretary of the Society of American Indians and started interacting directly with the B. I. A. where her husband worked. She was very critical and vocal of their policies because they wanted her to pray like a Christian which– (frustration noises). The intergenerational trauma, she just– she do be jumping out. And her husband was fired. Was it because of her criticism of the B. I. A? Maybe? Who’s to say? I can't say, but maybe. But they moved to Washington DC, where she started giving lectures about cultural identity and continued her work with the Society of American Indians. She even was briefly the editor of American Indian magazine. In 1924 she became active in the General Federation of Women's Clubs, which was like a women's rights group but make it intentionally diverse. It was grassroots campaigns to support women of all backgrounds, and we simply have no choice but to stan.

Lexi: Intersectional feminism.

Alana: Intersectional feminism. We love it, we love to see it, we love to see intersectional feminism like in the twentieth century, before it was cool, if you will. She started a universal Indigenous movement that led to the passage of the 1924 Indian Citizenship Act which, as the name implies, gave Indigenous people citizenship but not necessarily the right to vote because that was still up to the states. In 1926, she co founded with her husband the National Council of American Indians to continue lobbying for the rights of Indigenous people. She died January 26, 1938 at the age of not quite sixty two and is buried in Arlington Cemetery with her husband. Her gravestone reads Gertrude Simmons and then Zitkala-Sa which makes me feel a little bit weird but at least it's on there. I don't know if she like had a choice what went on there but I think it's cool that it's on there. And she was the first Indigenous woman to write her own autobiography without the help of an editor or translator because she was just good at English. She was also very anti use of peyote, which is really interesting because she was like alcoholism on the reservations is a huge problem and so we need to like do something about our ingesting of substances. It’s like all these things are about nuance which is something that I'm again I'm feeling so so much about nuance. It's something that I've been working on in therapy for like three years. That's not true, for two years. That I'm just like we can have two things that coexist– that like it would be in everybody's best interest to be an American citizen, but that doesn't necessarily mean that all of these Native people have to abandon their rituals and their culture. It’s that whole melting pot thing which is such a like when you think about a kind of a weird image… put people in a melting pot. Anyway. That’s a fun note to end on. That’s all I have to say.

Lexi: I just want to add that I think I've mentioned this before on the podcast but I worked on a project at the Smithsonian Libraries called Women in America: Extra and Ordinary. I'm the one who suggested this lady because I thought Alana would like learning about this lady, and I just want to kind of talk about a little bit why I put her in the project. The thing that I love about her is that the Portrait Gallery has pictures of her that were taken when she was quite young. I believe in her twenties.

Alana: They’re gorgeous.

Lexi: And they're beautiful because they're so like real. Like–

Alana: I think my favorite one is– now that I've mentioned it Lexi, you probably have to use it in the graphic– but it's her having grown her hair back out with her violin.

Lexi: Yes.

Alana: And it's just like how it's like… Once you know the background of that, it's like this is how she combined these two cultures by like really enjoying playing the violin and also having her long traditional hair.

Lexi: She’s just so like… It's like she could be your friend. Like she’s just a real person. And so like, I don't know. They’re good pictures. Go look at her pictures.

Alana: Go to the show notes, look at the pictures, they’re great pictures.

Lexi: And– Okay, I think– Okay, this is the root of it. I think when you see pictures of Native peoples from that time, so many times it's like they're wearing like outfits that aren't even correct for their culture and they were forced to pose in like ridiculous like customized versions of their own culture. Like I've seen ones where people who weren’t Plains Indians were put in Plains Indians’ attire for pictures. But like she's just hanging out and I really like that. I just love her. So much.

Alana: She’s so cool.

Lexi: And her name means red bird.

Alana: And her name means red bird, and Lexi loves birds. Lexi loves birds.

(Turkeys gobbling)

Lexi: You can find this podcast on Twitter and Instagram at LadyHistoryPod. Our show notes and a transcript of this episode will be on ladyhistorypod dot tumblr dot com. If you like the show, leave us a review, or tell your friends, and if you don't like the show, keep it to yourself.

Alana: Our logo is by Alexia Ibarra, you can find her on Twitter and Instagram at LexiBDraws. Our theme music is by me, GarageBand, and Amelia Earhart. Lexi is doing the editing. You will not see us, and we will not see you, but you will hear us, next time on Lady History.

[OUTRO MUSIC]

Haley: Next week on Lady History, we're balling with some boss bitches. Get your bags of money ready, because we’re making it rain.

Lexi: Okay. All right.

Haley: Good night!

Alana: I gotta crawl out of my closet.

Lexi: Good night!

Alana: Good night I'll talk to you tomorrow!

Lexi: Bye bye.

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boeserbby · 5 years ago

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Only Time Will Tell- Brock Boeser 1.3

about/request: I really wanted to explore a relationship where you are ‘the other woman’ this is the result of that. I’m not sure how long this will end up so…. sorry.

warnings: cursing, i think that's it??

authors note: Sorry I took such a long time bringing this out, I didn’t know if anyone actually liked this or not. Remember that a lot of details in this story are made up or changed. Make sure to check out parts one and two, I fixed some mistakes and made some corrections.

timeline: march 2017

word count: 2614

Hockey used to be a life for not just me, but my whole family. Three nights a week we would hop in my dad’s old work truck to cruise over to wherever Charlie, and in turn Brock, played. Often times we would meet up with the Boeser’s to grab the best seats right by the ice. Here my mom would yell to “Shoot the puck!” or boo at whatever call she felt didn't fit the crime. My dad would grab a couple of beers while talking to some guys he knew from his work. Small towns mean most people there he knew so he would rarely sit with us the whole game. Sometimes I would sit by my mom and Brock’s mom and sisters. Sometimes there would be kids from school or members from the team who were scratched I would sit by instead. Wren was often the one scratched. He never made it to practice on time and when he did he would spend more time talking to guys on the team then practicing. He was nice and seen grew to be one of the guys on the team I felt fully comfortable with. He understood what it was like to be the younger sibling and live in the shadow of our elders. His older brother Josh was team captain and lead them to 3 state titles in a row.

After the game, all of us would go out to eat. The Boeser’s and the Y/L/N’s and whomever joined along from the team. Dad would tell Charlie what to do better, of course Dad knew what it was like to play hockey. He played for the University of Minnesota until a really bad accident his sophomore year took him out. Charlie, and me too (at least for a little bit), just wanted to impress him. Often times dad would rag on Charlie until they got into a mini fight. Charlie would hitch a ride back with Brock and his family. My dad would then spend the whole drive home complaining that Charlie was never going to be as good as him if Charlie didn't take his advice.

Although the bad seeped into the good. The hockey rink was were my family was one. We all would come together to scream when number 6 would skate out. Cause no matter how awful things were going at home, the rink was a time of escape. It was when hot chocolate would warm cold fingers in the late second period or the high of sugar rush from skittles in the second intermission. It was a time to giggle at the little kids they brought out between periods. They wouldn’t yet be comfortable on skates so they would slip and fall or miss the puck completely. I couldn’t remember what it was like when Charlie and I were that young playing, but I like thinking we were better than that.

After he had died, I didn’t go to many games. There was no more hot chocolate or skittles high. No little kids falling or scoring on their own net. We never went out to eat after the games. There were no more arguments between dad and Charlie. The nearby rink which once held the best memories was purposely avoided at all times. Life went on, but each day seemed to hold some emotional punch of remembrance. Like one day, about 3 months after he died I came home from school and my mom had cleaned out his room. Neat piles of his clothes and pictures were placed in bins labeled “attic” or “giveaway.” His first skates, his autographed Detroit Red Wings Steve Yzerman jersey, and so much more was packed away to be set aside. His posters, CDs and other trinkets were thrown out or donated to a thrift store. I remember yelling at my mom that this is his room. She told me she needed to heal and that dad had been asking her to do it for two weeks. It was time to move on.

Since moving I had gone to no hockey games. And the Vancouver Canucks were not a bad team. They had just been having a difficult time in recent years. That didn’t make city pride for them any less. Any game night and the always crowded downtown streets turned into an obstacle only the bravest could handle. I never purposely put myself in a position to make the drive down to the stadium in the past 2 years of living in Vancouver. Occasionally I was invited to games by friends and classmates. I managed to get out of it every time too, but somehow escaping this invite seemed impossible.

It was Brock’s mother’s last night in the city before she had to fly back down to Minnesota to care for Brock’s younger siblings. I was extended an invite due to my ‘gracious’ hosting, my mother called me and told me how Laurie, Brock’s mother, raved how I grew into such a beautiful and caring young woman. So there I was crammed in Rogers Arena with 18,000 or so people. Laurie was on one side of me wearing a new Boeser jersey. I, even though I lived there awhile, owned no such fan gear and instead dressed in a thick sweatshirt. Natalie tried to get me to wear her old Trevor Linden jersey, but I high tailed it out of there before she could fish it out of her closet.

I loved hockey growing up, but standing here made me feel so out of place. Life had changed so much in the past two years. I was no longer the little tomboy with scraped knees and a messy ponytail. I longer wanted to play hockey. Now, I had put hockey out of my life so much that welcoming it back in right now felt traitorous to everything I had done to avoid coming here. Laurie was cheering and dancing. I guess there is nothing quite like the debut of your child in the NHL. Warm ups had just started so every guy was on the ice. It was easy to spot him in the white 6 with the dark blue background. I got chills the first time I saw it. Boeser was spelled out in big letters across his back. I imagined at that moment seeing Charlie out there. He would mess around and probably fall trying to impress some girls he would see on the front row. But he would be here, and he would be happy.

“I’m gonna go grab a beer, want one?” I asked his mom. Canada drinking laws are sort of amazing. I remember getting carded at a bar when I first turned 19. There was a split second of panic before I remembered I didn’t really need to be 21 up here.

“No, hun, I’m going to facetime the girls so they can see Brock on the ice,” she said grabbing her phone.

People were still pouring in from the front doors. Lines were long for everything even the escultors. I recognized some people from college and waved. They sported brand new jerseys and held in their arms peanuts and beers and popcorn. “We are gonna win!” They all said. People were invigorated with the call up of Brock. I was invigorated to get a beer in me that's for sure. Fifteen minutes and 16 bucks later I carried my two beers back to our spot. Laurie was finishing up her call to Jessica and Paul, Brock siblings along with Duke. I waved and said hi to everyone.

“Kid, you gotta come back more often,” Paul said. Paul was Brock’s oldest sibling and he always acted like he was so much older than the rest of us. Add on to the fact that I was the youngest in our family friend group, “Kid” has been my nickname well into my early teens.

“I will soon, I have just been super busy with college and all.”

It had been mine excuse through out my time here. For the first 8 months my parents begged me to come home. At this point they didn't even call me anymore. I guess it's far cause I don't call them up much too.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay back home,” Laurie said. “Are you guys staying up to watch the game?”

“Only for a little bit, I work early in the morning.” Jessica said. West coast games ended way too late to stay up watching them in Minnesota. While it was only 7:00 our time it was 9 there so the game could last until 12 or 1 am.

We all said our goodbyes as the lights dimmed. The Canucks opening video was being shown on the big screen while music blared in the arena. This was pump up time. As our guys skated out people cheered loudly. This game was supposed to be good. The Ducks always had a little rivalry with us. Add on to the fact that this was Boeser’s first home game and we were on a two-game losing streak. The team, and the fans, were hungry for a win.

Unfortunately moral lasted until the ducks scored for the third time in the first period. Add on when Montour scored to make it 4-0 in the second, people began realising that not much has changed even with Brock. As the zamboni entered the ice for second intermission, Laurie turns to me.

“So, your mom told me your in college,” she started. God, she was fishing. Mom’s think they are clever trying to get information by stating the conversation at a wide base value and steer it to the cavity in the situation.

“Yep, I go to the University of British Columbia for journalism,” I said sipping water I got after downing both beers in the first period.

“That must be a lot of work, what do you do for work?” she asks.

“I actually write for Vancouver’s newspaper, they pay pretty good, and I do work study, so they pay for so much of my tuition that isn’t covered by my scholarships and then I get some of the money”

“What do you do for work study?” she asks.

“My English professor needs an assistant. I’m basically his gopher. If he needs a book from the library or a coffee I go get it. I transcribe his lectures for any kid who misses class. Sometimes I will tutor kids or help them find good sources for their papers. It’s not too bad, maybe three or four hours per day and I get like 6 credits towards my English major.”

“Gosh, that's a lot. He needs you to do all of that?”

I shrug, “It sucks sometimes but the professor is nice so…”

“Your mom said that you haven’t come home since moving here.” They way she phrases the end of it is hard to respond to. It's not a question, more of a statement. She didn't sound mad or upset like my mom does when she says it. Laurie just sounds concerned. Her voice feels like a hug.

“It’s just soo much,” I start. “Charlie’s gone and mom and dad are splitting up. Mom met this new guy and he is so proper. Dad hasn’t even called me in two months because I said I’m not coming home for his huge labor day party. Plus I just got so much going on.”

“It’s okay to be hurt by what's going on, but don’t hide from it. Your parents love you a lot. They just don’t know how to love each other with so much hurt.”

“I don't know how to love them with so much hurt.” I mutter.

Everyone is buzzing as the crowd makes its way out of the arena. We may have lost, but Brock put one in the beginning of the third to excite the crowd. Laurie and I hang back to give Brock time to get ready. The team could have lost 10-1 and she still would have been glowing with excitement for Brock. His life was changing, and he was no longer the little boy who fell over on the ice. Where most parents would have been freaking out, Laurie handled with grace, something she has done her entire life. No matter the situation Laurie put on her big girl pants and muddled through.

We meandered our way to the locker room, showing our passes to the security guard. In the hallway we waited as different guys from the team joined up with their wives or girlfriends. They all hugged Laurie telling her how wonderful her son is. Everyone loved Brock. Well almost everyone.

Brock finally made his way out. His hair was still wet from what I was hoping was a shower and not sweat. He and Laurie hugged when he reached us. It was an awkward second or two while we figured out if we would hug or not. Wrapping my arms around him felt weird, almost as weird as the time we kissed. Yet there was a nostalgia in it too; we went always so awkward. In fact I remember a time in my life where I never thought we would ever be strangers. I remember once when I was about 12 and Brock was about 13, I had a dream that Brock and I were dating. The next day I remember being shy and awkward especially when he called me “Kid”. I went all pink and Charlie would not let it go for a whole year. Finally, when Brock asked a different girl to the joint 7th-8th grade dance Charlie let it go. I spent the whole night crying and accepted Thomas Miller’s invite. He had braces and dark hair and spent all night trying to kiss me. After the second slow dance song I joined up with my friends instead. The next day I heard a rumor going around that he said not only had we kissed, but that I let him touch my boobs. Charlie had been mad and cornered me about it. When I admitted it false, he said he taught Thomas a lesson. The next week someone “anonymously” shared a picture of Thomas at a birthday party sucking on his thumb with a stuffed animal. From there rumors spread he wet the bed every night.

We always had each others backs. It made we wonder how things ended up so differently. We all walked out together. As I reached into my pocket to order an Uber, Laurie offered to have them drive me back to my apartment.

“It’s too late for a young woman like you to hop in some random mans car.” she insisted.

“”I couldn’t bother you guys,” I said.

“No bother,” Brock said. “Might be nice to see more of the city anyway.”

Thirty minutes later I lay in bed without make up and in an old, ripped up shirt from Natalie’s older brother that he left here. Natalie was already deep asleep when I got home with one of the Harry Potter movies on full volume. With school for both of us the next day, it was important to get as much sleep as possible. But as I laid there all I could think about was Brock’s hair and his cologne. I wished things could have ended better for us all those years ago. Maybe there’s time for change now. A girl could hope.

As I finally started to drift asleep my phone’s ping jolts me awake.

Brock Boeser has texted you.

Thanks for coming tonight. I hope to see you soon.

God, it’s going to be a long night.

#brock boeser #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser imagines #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #imagine

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alindakb · 4 years ago

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Letters to my Parents - Friday 19 May 1995 - by Alinda

Friday 19 May 1995

Dear mom and dad,

A lot has happened in the last couple of weeks. I don’t know where to begin so I’ll just start at the beginning. I’ve found out what the third and final task for the TriWizard tournament is going to be. I had to go down to the Quidditch field one evening together with the other champions. I met up with Cedric at the Entrance Hall and we walked to the field together. We don’t hang out that much, but we’ve become friends over the last couple of months. He’s the only other student who knows what it feels like to be a champion. And he was a bit taken aback when he heard how hard the second tasks was for me. And a little jealous of the fact that I’ve found the one I would love till the end of my days already. He’s been dating Cho Chang. He says he likes her, but that it would be nice to know if it was going to last.

We were both shocked when we reached the Quidditch pitch. The pitch was no longer smooth and flat but filled with hedges. At that moment still small and easy to step over, but in a month time they will be about twenty feet high, turning into a maze we’ll have to navigate for the third tasks. When I told Draco about the hedges on the Quidditch field he was just as upset as me. I assured him that Mr Bagman assured us that the field will be back to normal after the tasks and that we would be able to play Quidditch on it again. Not that Draco believes this. Adrian and Miles told him it would all be fine, but Draco just keeps shaking his head and complaining about how unbelievable it is that the pitch has been destroyed. Adrian joked that Draco is turning into a real captain, stepping into Marcus footsteps.

But back to the maze. The TriWizard Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze and whoever gets there first will receive full marks. And of course, the maze will be filled with obstacles, like creatures and spells. Cedric is allowed to go in first, together with me, as we have the most points at this moment. Viktor will follow ten minutes later and finally, Fleur will be allowed to enter. I’ve told Hermione and Draco about the tasks and they’ve made this impressive list of jinxes, curses, spells and charms I should learn to get through the maze. I don’t think I can learn them all in time, but Draco is positive and keeps telling me that he’ll help me and will reward me for every spell I master. And I can say, I love the rewards he gives me late at night when our roommates are asleep.

When we were dismissed, Viktor asked to talk to me and we headed out towards the forest. Viktor didn’t want to be overheard he said and I was fine with that. I wanted to talk to me as I was Hermione’s best friend and he wanted to know what was going on between her and Ron. He said that she talks about him just as much as she talks about me and Draco. I told him that they are dating and was surprised to see that Viktor didn’t like this news. He asked me if I thought he might have a chance with her, that she might leave this redheaded boy for him. I didn’t like to crush Viktor’s hopes, he’s a nice guy, but after all the pining towards each other I’m glad Ron and Hermione are back together and I don’t think Viktor will be able to come between them.

Viktor nodded his head and then changed the subject. He told me that I was a really good flier, that he watched me during the first tasks, and that he would love to fly against me one day. I told him I saw him at the Quidditch World Cup and that I wasn’t near as good as him. He disagreed and we made a deal that after the last tasks we would find time to set up a little Quidditch match with some of his friends and my Quidditch playing friends. Miles and Adrian are all up for it and already started to think who they should put on the team. I think they even approached Fred and George to asks if they would be the beaters.

I thought this was a nice way to end the evening, but all went a bit crazy. Viktor and I heard someone in the forest and when we looked around it turned out that Mr Crouch was staggering through the forest. He looked awful. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face was scratched, and he was unshaven and grey with exhaustion. He was muttering and gesticulating. It looked like he was talking to someone that only he could see. And then he fell to his knees, grabbed my robes and gasped the headmaster's name. He said he needed to see headmaster Dumbledore, that he’d done something stupid. And then he let go of me and started talking to the tree again.

Viktor promised to look after him while I got the headmaster. I ran back to the castle and up the stairs towards the headmaster's office. And just when I reached the stone gargoyle it opened and professor Snape stepped out. He wanted to know what I was doing there and I told him all about how Viktor and I found Mr Crouch in the forest and that he looked mad and wanted to talk to the headmaster. Professor Snape told me to calm down and explain myself clearly. So I took a deep breath and told Snape all about Mr Crouch. And just when Professor Snape said we should get headmaster Dumbledore the gargoyle moved again. The headmaster stepped out and as soon as Professor Snape told him I found Mr Crouch we all set off towards the forest.

When we reached the forest it was all quiet. Professor Snape and headmaster Dumbledore lit up their wands and searched the ground. It didn’t take us long to find Viktor laying on the forest floor. He was knocked out, but the headmaster woke him up with a simple spell. Then he used another spell to call for Hagrid and Snape went to fetch Karkaroff. Karkaroff was angry, he called it treachery and went on and on at Dumbledore about who unfair the tournament was with Hogwarts having two champions and ministry workers attacking the competition. And then spitting at the headmaster’s feet. This pissed of Hagrid, who lifted Karkaroff off the floor and slammed him against a tree. Dumbledore told him to let Karkaroff go and escort me back to the castle, to the dungeons. And lucky for Karkaroff Hagrid listened to the headmaster and let go of him.

Back in the common room, I spend half the night speculating with Draco, Blaise, Greg, Daphne and Millicent about what happened to Mr Crouch and what was wrong with him. Draco said it looked like he was under the imperious curse and was fighting it to warn us about Voldemort. All I know is that we hardly had any sleep that night and that I fell asleep on Draco’s shoulder during History of Magic the next day.

I’d also written a letter to Sirius about it all. He wasn’t very impressed with me, taking off with Viktor in the middle of the night. I had to return him a promise that I won’t go wandering around at night and that I make sure I keep myself safe. He told me again that my name didn’t get into the Goblet of Fire by accident and that the person responsible is on their last chance of attacking me. He told me to go and practice stunning and disarming spells. And maybe some hexes. His message was clear, focus on the third task and forget all the crazy business with Mr Crouch. He told me again to trust Dumbledore and Professor Moody, and asked me please to not break any more school rules and to keep myself safe.

From that moment on Draco, Hermione, Ron and I have been looking up hexes in the library or practising the Stunning Spell. Draco says he doesn’t mind, but I don’t like stunning him all the time. He always falls in the wrong direction and misses the cushions. Ron suggested to kidnap Mrs Norris and stun her. Hermione and Draco both agreed that was just a stupid idea, that we don’t need Filch to come after us for hurting his cat and that Ron could be my test subject for some time. He didn’t last long, complaining his back was killing him from falling onto it.

I felt like things were going back to normal. Well at least as normal as life can be with being a champion in the TriWizard tournament. But of course, I was wrong. It all started in divination. Professor Trelawney had her perfumed fire burning, even though it was a hot day. I cracked a window open to get some fresh air and set down next to Draco. Professor Trelawney dimmed the lights to show us her impressive solar system in a jar and explain something about the position of Mars. I didn’t catch much of it, as the heat and the nice breeze from the window made me doze off. Before I knew it I was flying on an eagle owl, soaring through the clear blue sky towards an old house set high on a hillside.

Inside the house, I ended up in a room with boarded-up windows. There was a chair, a giant snake and that traitor Wormtail. A cold, high-pitched voice spoke to him. Told him he was lucky, that his blunder hadn’t ruined everything. He still got tortured, but I didn’t felt sorry for him. I hate that man. He’s worse than the Dark Lord for betraying the both of you. But I did feel his pain as my scar burned on my forehead. I screamed until I heard Draco’s voice, screaming my voice, telling me to wake up.

The whole class was looking at me and I was glad that Draco pulled me to my feet and dragged me out of the room. He told Ron to go tell Hermione after class that we’re going to see Professor Snape, knowing she would worry if we wouldn’t show up for dinner.

During our walk down to the dungeons, Draco made me repeat my dream. He asked questions about every little detail. Like what kind of owl, how did the house look like, could you identify where it was, did you see the Dark Lord, etcetera. I know Draco worries, and answered all his questions, but all I really wanted to do was forget about the awful dream. It felt like the dream I had during summer and I don’t like that. It was like I was there in the room with Voldemort.

Professor Snape dragged us to the headmaster’s office when Draco told him that I had a dream again that hurt my scar. (it was funny to hear that the password for the headmaster’s office is Cockroach Cluster). When we reached the big oak door we could hear voices on the other side. The headmaster was having a conversation with the minister of Magic and Professor Moody. Snape shook his head and motioned to us to be quiet. It was a bit strange, listening in on a conversation because Professor Snape wanted to eavesdrop.

It turns out that Headmaster Dumbledore thinks that the disappearance of Bertha Jenkins and Mr Crouch are connected. Only the minister doesn’t see it that way. He thinks that Mr Crouch has finally cracked and lost his mind.

We didn’t hear much more, because it turns out that Professor Moody’s magical eye can see through doors, and he warned the room that Professor Snape, Draco and I were standing at the door because we wanted to talk to the headmaster. We entered but were told to wait until they had investigated the grounds. Professor Snape joined them, asking the minister all kinds of questions when they departed. I think he doesn’t trust Professor Moody and is still afraid the man will say terrible things about him.

Draco and I first took some time to talk to Fawkes, the headmaster's phoenix. He is a beautiful creature and we both enjoyed watching him. Draco wished he could have his own phoenix one day. And then all we could do was wait. But our attention was captured by silver light coming from a cabinet that wasn’t closed properly. We opened the cabinet and found a shallow stone basin. Draco told me it was a Pensieve, a device that can hold memories. His father also has one in his office at their home.

The silver light and strange liquid or gas (I’m still not sure what it was, it looked like light made liquid and like wind made solid at the same time) was fascinating. I couldn’t keep my eyes from it, and neither could Draco. We bent over the basin and looked into the liquid. I expected to see the bottom of the basin, but instead, we saw a room. And then my nose toughed the liquid and I was pulled into the room. Draco followed me and we both ended up on a bench next to headmaster Dumbledore. I tried to talk to him, but Draco told me he couldn’t hear me, that we were pulled into a memory and could only observe.

So observe we did. The memory was in a room filled with witches and wizards. In the middle was a chair with chains and everyone was looking at the door in the corner. After some time a man was brought in through the door, accompanied by two Dementors. I shivered and Draco took my hand. He whispered in my ear that they weren’t real, only a part of the memory.

The man we saw was Karkaroff and he was brought in for questioning from Azkaban. Mr Crouch was there and asked him for the names of Death Eaters. Karkaroff mentioned multiple names, but most were already captured or dead. Until he mentioned a wizard working for the Department of Mysteries. But he was still sent back to Azkaban, even after he mentioned professor Snape’s name. But it was agreed that Snape had turned sides in the war and was no longer a Death Eater.

Then we were moved to a differed memory. This one was the trial of Ludo Bagman. He was found guilty for passing information to Lord Voldemort’s supporters. Mr Crouch wanted to send him to Azkaban, but the crowd protested and they brought it to a vote. Nobody voted for imprisonment, they even complimented him on his win with Quidditch. Draco muttered that it was a disgrace, that Mr Bagman got away with his crimes just because he was a famous Quidditch player. I told Draco he could do the same once he became the star player for the English team. But Draco answered that he would never help the Dark Lord and therefore would never need to be acquitted.

The last trial we saw was for four people. When they were brought in Draco told me the woman was his aunt, his mother’s sister. And that one of the men was her husband. They were sentenced for torturing Frank Longbottom and his wife. Draco and I looked at each other and mentioned Neville at the same time. He was raised by his grandmother because of what Draco’s aunt did to his parents. Draco feels bad about this, I know. He says it’s fine, but he started to be kinder to Neville ever since we saw the memory of his aunt’s trail.

There was a boy that was sentenced for the same crime. He begged Mr Crouch to believe he didn’t do it. He called Mr Crouch his father. But this didn’t stop Mr Crouch to sentence him to Azkaban for the rest of his life.

When the boy was being dragged out of the room, Headmaster Dumbledore showed up next to us and told us it was time to return to his office. He pulled us out and we both started to apologise straight away. But the Headmaster only smiled and told us it was fine, that he shouldn’t have left the cabinet open, knowing full well how tempting the light is.

Headmaster Dumbledore told us a bit about the Pensive, but it wasn’t any new information that Draco hadn’t told me already. And then he asked me why Professor Snape had brought us to his office. I told him about the dream, with Wormtail and Voldemort. And that it hurt my scar when Voldemort tortured Wormtail.

Draco asked him if he knew why my scar hurts and he wasn’t happy with the answer. Dumbledore said he had a theory and no more than that. He thinks it’s because of the failed Killing Curse from when I was a baby. Because of my scar, I feel pain when Voldemort is near and when he feels a strong surge of hatred. Draco hates this, he doesn’t want me to be connected to the Dark Lord in any way. He says that one soul biding connection is enough for a person. I told him it’s not the same as our connection. I don’t feel Voldemort all the time, as I feel Draco. This calmed Draco down a little, but he is still upset about it all.

After that, we asked him if he thought that Voldemort was getting stronger. He said he thinks so, as there are more and more strange disappearing, just like the first time he rose to power.

I also asked him why he was so sure back then that Professor Snape had switched sides, but he didn’t want to answer that. He said it was between him and Professor Snape.

That was the end of our conversation and Draco and I left to go get dinner at the great hall. Everyone wanted to know if I was fine, as they all had heard I had fallen down screaming during Divination. I told them all that I was fine and we agreed to meet up later at a private spot to discuss what had happened.

That is about all that has happened. I now need to go and prepare for the third task and try to survive it. If I don’t, Draco has promised to kill me personally. I told him I would already be dead if I don’t survive, but this made no difference to him. He just said he would raise me from the dead with dark magic, just so he could kill me again. I know he doesn’t mean that, that he’s just worried, but I’m glad we can joke about it from time to time.

Love you both,

Harry James Potter

#letters to my parents #drarry #harry in slytherin #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #harry x draco #Goblet of Fire #triwizard tournament

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alenajade · 5 years ago

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❛ alexa demie, 19, cisfemale, she/her ❜ was that ALENA MONTANEZ i just saw hurrying across the quad? you’d think they would know what happens when a SOPHOMORE is late to class. then again, the FASHION major has been known to be pretty MANIPULATIVE. maybe being so VIVACIOUS helps keep them out of trouble. i heard that they are BISEXUAL and love DADDY KINK + SIZE DIFFERENCE

ayyye it’s G bringing ya’ll yet another lovable trash heap (i play Ezra too hi) ! figured I’d up my chances of being able to plot with as many people as possible if I had both a male & a female, plus I’ve been dying for a chance to use alexa as a fc so! alena is a brand new muse i’ve never played before & i’m super hype to develop her here for the first time ok so lemme just FINALLY get around to introducing this bitch real quick

OTHER KINKS: CHOKING, ORGASM CONTROL/DENIAL, BODY WORSHIP (REC), FORCE, PUNISHMENT + REWARD, ANAL, SPANKING, MARKING, BITING, HAIR PULLING, DOMINANCE, VOYEURISM, CLOTHES ON, GROUP SEX, SEXUAL PAIN, ORDERS (REC)(GIV), BEING FILMED / PHOTOGRAPHED

alena jade montanez was born that bitch.

was such a daddy’s girl up until age 6 when he left her, her mom, and her (at the time) 4, almost 5 year old little sister to pursue a new life with his mistress- after that, alena’s grandmother moved in with them, and her mom went through such a transformative stage that she had no choice but to pick herself up and make the decision to raise the strongest, most confident daughters she possibly could, because she never wanted a man to be able to break them the way the one she’d thought was her soulmate had broken her

and that’s exactly what she did

alena grew up in a small town in pennsylvania; her mom had wanted to move after the divorce, but decided it best for alena not to uproot her when she was already accustomed to the life she had there. her mom made sure she was involved in absolutely everything she could possibly do so she wasn’t bored out of her mind, often driving her miles and miles to bigger cities for gymnastics meets and practices, cheerleading practice/competitions, dance practice/competitions, etc

thanks to child support from her dirtbag dad, who never tried to maintain a father/daughter relationship with her or her sister after she left, and both her mom and grandma essentially revolving their lives around caring for the girls, alena never really wanted for anything- in fact, materialistically speaking, she was spoiled rotten

every toy, every lavish birthday party, every cute little outfit, and as she got older every expensive new makeup release she just had to have, alena always got, and she rarely ever had to make a fuss or ask twice, meaning she was bred into someone who absolutely despises being told no or being told what to do

her mom eventually remarried (alena would’ve been around 8) a dude who alena just never connected with or considered any kind of father figure, but he was loaded, and out of that deal came her step sister around her same age who she loves VERY much (wc!!)

she was head cheerleader at her high school, she was also voted prom queen, but she never wanted to be one of those bitches who peaked in high school,

so that’s why, even though she partied way 2 much and sucked way 2 much dick to actually be learning anything in hs, she got good grades and always aced her tests because she knew she wanted to be able to go to college and eventually move away- she chose noru bc it’s close to home so she can still visit her mom and her grandma, and ofc bc of its party school reputatuion

she’s a full on bratz doll personified okay she has a passion 4 fashion or whateva, she loves makeup and she’s loved making her own clothes from the time she learned to sew at just 11 years old, which is why she’s at northridge studying fashion- her main goal (is to blow up, and then act like she don’t know noboday) is to eventually get accepted for transfer to the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in los angeles and get out of PA altogether

she hates PA because... well, she feels fucking haunted here. literally and figuratively

lemme explain: my girl sees ghosts- like either she was born with something wrong with her (CW: f u don’t wanna read abt this spooky stuff or don’t believe in the paranormal u can go w/ that & skip this whole part but) she sees ghosts, str8 up, bc it’s been this way all her life, as long as she can remember

the house she grew up in was crazy haunted and that means she saw a lot of creepy messed up shit happen growing up- but the rly fucked up part comes in how, even after her family moved out of their house and into a new place right before alena turned 16... the creepy haunting shit didn’t stop, it got worse, with family belongings going missing, cupboard doors and windows all being found open in the middle of the night, incessant footsteps, whisperings, and unexplainable banging sounds.

instead of a new environment solving the haunting problem, it was like whatever energy had been in their previous home had somehow attached itself to her. alena started having horrific bouts of sleep paralysis literally every time she slept too deeply or for too long- this has continued into her early adulthood, and because of this she:

!!! literally, doesn’t sleep- like, gets as little sleep as humanly possible, as a person could possibly function on, and she does it with the help of her rampant caffeine addiction and (TW: drug use) stimulant drugs- you will never catch alena smoking pot or wax bc it will make her sleepy and she won’t feel safe

that also means she never spends the night with anyone because then they’ll know how fuckt up she really is, so she prefers to keep things surface-level with most people, putting on an individualized performance for anyone she is attracted enough to to pursue, but never letting it get any deeper than casual sex

loves and is so fiercely protective of all the women in her life!!! is more likely to be leery of or mistrusting with men, but ofc there’ll be exceptions

and YEA that’s p much what i have for her so far, like i said she’s brand new so i wanna do most of her development here in this group but i had to get something up !!

i’m working on a connections page for her but some stuff i’d love off the top off my head are !!! ofc her younger sister (would be not quite 2 years younger than alena, so freshman age/ just turned 18) and her step-sister (would be the same age as her, 19 going on 20), best friends / squad, (she’s a cheerleader but she’s not a captain or anything bc her focus is on fashion now that she’s @ uni), an ex bf/ gf / fling (or 12 ), fwb, enemies w/ benefits, frenemies, exes who hate each other but still fuck, a professor / administrator she fucks on the reg (bonus points if they’re older and/or married), anything ur lil heart desires ok hmu <3

#noru.intro #this is sO long and also so long overdue pls #love me and her anyway #tw drug use #tw ghosts #feel like i can FINALLY do replies and plot for her so pls get @ me

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goldenpoison · 6 years ago

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Morgan’s 5th Birthday

The day Morgan turns 5 is one of the most hectic day in Tony and Steve’s life to say the least. One reason is that a new urgent mission just popped up waking the couple at 4 am in the morning. The second is that it was a busy Monday, so that means, school for the three children. The third and final reason, was that the restaurant they reserved for dinner got cancelled for some bizarre reason.

Now, at 4 pm in the middle of the grassy field by the avengers facility, Steve fresh out of his suit, is running around and organizing picnic blankets and pillows. He and Tony have planned a little movie night out under the stars the second they got the call from the restaurant. They were going to set up a make-shift movie screen with a projector, have picnic blankets and pillows for everyone to sit on, and there’s going to be a table full of food just enough for the avengers who are able to come. “Hey Bruce, how’s it going with the projector?” Steve asked. “All set, Cap!” Bruce, who’ve decided to remain in his Professor Hulk form, replied. Rhodey giving two thumbs up beside him to assure Steve further. Steve let out the breath he was unknowingly holding. He can finally check off a box from his to-do list. ‘Finally, one task done, a couple more to go,’ he thought.

Near the piece of white fabric that’ll act as a screen, is Sam trying to help Happy arrange the cheeseburgers in a presentable way, note the key word: trying. Next to it is a plate of s’mores with sprinkles, because the birthday girl just spontaneously had that idea the last time they were eating the snack while on a camping trip. Just to the left of it are two accomplished assassins yelling profanities at a chocolate fountain about it “not spewing out the diabetes-causing sweet that everybody can’t resist.” That is, until they finally figured it out after a couple of death threats. Which they immediately tested for “maximum level of taste and experience.” Leaving Bucky with chocolate near his mouth and some drips on his shirt, and have proceeded to rate it 4 out 5 stars, the missing one for the difficulty in setting up. A couple of frustrating minutes later, Wanda came out of the kitchen with Vision with carbonara and some punch, finally completing the food table. As the couple set down the dish and drink, Steve ticked off another box, then proceeded to get the plates and other eating utensils they’ll need. By then, it was 5 o’clock, a few minutes before Cassie and Pepper arrive with the little one. 15 minutes to be exact, as Pep texted him. The three of them were out to some fun time in the mall where Morgan’s favorite cartoon were doing some concert. Coincidentally enough (wink, wink), the entire performance was sponsored by the Stark Industries.

Tony meanwhile, had to pick up Peter at school because he got detention for not paying attention at class and instead making some new and improved “superhero solution” as his teachers called it. “Y’know to be completely honest, everytime you get detention, I always look forward to your Pop’s monologue about the topic.” The comment received an eye roll from Peter, who is obviously so sick of the infamous detention and getting in trouble talk courtesy of Captain America. “So, you got detention,” his father continued, mocking his husband, complete with a hand on the side of his waist for extra effects. At this point, he was ready to yeet himself out of the surface of the earth and into the sun. “Can we just go home in peace, please?” Peter pleaded. Tony let out a chuckle before agreeing. The thing is, Tony sometimes doesn’t tell Steve if Peter got detention if it’s only a minor thing, but he always suspects that he knows though.

The father-son duo showed up a few minutes after Clint and his family arrived. Harley rushed to greet the two with a grinning face. “You guys have no idea how stressed Pops was earlier.” “Did he turn on his angry mom mode?” their dad asked with an amused smile. “Yep, the whole package, complete with his ‘eyebrows of disappointment’ towards Sam and Happy who are arguing about whether or not they should stack the cheeseburgers in a pyramid,” the older boy responded, sending a mischievous smile to his little brother. As the three came closer, finally getting the chance to see the little quick set-up, Peter started to imagine the joy on his baby sister’s adorable face. First thing he saw were the people there, not too many, just the family, well, extended family. There was their Dad, Steve, smiling and his eyes encouraging them to come over, Sam and Bucky chatting with Wanda and Vision, Natasha and Bruce hanging out with Clint and his Family, and Scott, Hope, Rhodey and Happy finishing up the homey little tent, adding some tiny details and making sure it’s stable. The sun had already started to set, so the dainty fairy lights shining among the stars in the dark blue sky.

Just as Peter finished to take it all in, he hears a familiar gasp of surprise. Turning around, he saw his little sister beaming with excitement in the middle of Pepper and Cassie, who were both holding her hands, carrying She-Ra merchandise. The little girl ran up to them, Harley picking her up off the ground. “Wow!” Morgan exclaimed, eyes big and round, and full of admiration. The family came closer to the cake in the middle of the food table. “You like it, Ann?” Steve asked their daughter. The birthday girl nodded enthusiastically, eyeing the cake and the bowl of strawberry, marshmallows, and wafer sticks around the chocolate fountain. “Can I blow the candle now? Can I? Can I? Can I?” Tony laughed and started to sing happy birthday. Soon enough, everybody was singing and cheering on the now 5 year-old. “What’d ya wish for?” Harley asked after she finished blowing out the candle. “You’re not supposed to tell your wish!” she said, raising her arms. Though after about 5 seconds, a low whisper, or so what she thought was a whisper, can be heard, “I wished that my birthdays always will be this fun and always with my family.”

For the rest of the night, the family (that includes all the other avengers), ate and watched a couple of Disney movies, starting with Frozen, then The Lion King, and then lastly, The Little Mermaid. A lot of good laughs were shared that night under the stars. Sam, Rhodey, and Scott were belting out let it go, Happy, Bruce, and Morgan were full out sobbing during that scene in The Lion King (the rest either has a few tears pouring out, while some were crying on the inside), and by the time Rafiki went and talk to Simba, the birthday girl was already asleep, drooling on Tony’s sleeves, muttering a sweet good night and an I love you 3000 before completely drifting off.

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iron--spider · 6 years ago

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My Endgame writeup or whatever

Okay

I’m gonna try to go in order of what I can remember. I might not hit on everything. Up front I will say—it played better than actually reading the spoilers did. But is that even saying much? I don’t know. I have a very strange feeling about all of it and I absolutely have not processed it yet. I just keep coming back to this thought—I just don’t know. I genuinely don’t know

- I loved the Nebula and Tony bits on the Benatar. He was such a sweet, sweet calming dad. I wanted more of all this. They rushed through it.

- Uh. How did Carol know. Why did they skip her finding out where he was? I need more lol. I also wanted the scene where she originally arrived. Don’t assume shit about us, Marvel, just don’t skip important scenes.

- Side note: the pacing in the beginning is....bad. Really bad lol.

- I liked the Tony arriving back bit. I like everything about Robert’s performance here. How he said “I lost the kid” with such emotion (though does Steve know who he’s talking about?)

- Next scene was some of the BEST work I’ve ever seen out of Robert. Seeing him so skinny like that was horrifying. The look on his face when he saw Peter on the screen. Ripping out the IV, everything he said to Steve, pulling out the housing unit and dropping it in Steve’s hand and then collapsing. Oscar reel. That’s my baby and I’m proud. Damn.

- “up until a couple minutes ago I thought you were a build a Bear” lmfao

- uhhhhh the killing Thanos.....yeah whatever. It was weird. And annoying.

- If I could rewrite this movie, the five years later is exactly where I would start :) A misstep, in my opinion. I don’t believe Tony would trust himself to have a child after losing one.

- “your mom never wears stuff I get her” lol

- kid is super super cute but not a good actress. I had no idea what she was talking about most of the time because she spoke so low.

- Paul Rudd fucking nailed every single scene he was in. He was amazing and a star player to me. His face in the Cassie scene. So good.

- Nat was great in every moment she had.

- The scene with the photo. God. Tony was so absolute in his opinion—he was not going to do this time travel heist. It was risking too much. No way. Get out of my house if you’re gonna talk that way. But then that picture. He takes one look at it, this dead kid that still holds such a big piece of his heart. And the next scene he’s cracking time travel.

- Pepper probably always knew this was a possibility. Their conversation made me cry.

- I hate professor hulk. It’s so stupid. Hate it lol.

- Thor just...made me sad. He wasn’t a joke to me. He was so obviously devastated and sad and just....not himself. He couldn’t forgive himself. It hurt to see him like that.

- Love when Tony drives up so fast and gives Steve his shield back.

- Here comes my favorite parts of the movie honestly. I love the whole team figuring shit out stuff once they were all together again. Tony and Nat laying on the table together with pillows. Everyone eating snacks and talking. This is the kind of shit I wanted ALL. ALONG.

- I felt offended when they were trying to explain the time travel to the audience. It’s so obviously bullshit. It creates massive, massive plotholes and it’s bad. Bad.

- But I enjoyed it lmao. The 2012 stuff was so wonderful. The Hulk getting mad and wanting to smash the elevator and Tony being like “stop, stop” lmao. Tony checking out Steve’s ass. Steve checking out his own ass. 2012!Steve saying “I can do this all day” and our Steve being like “yeahIKNOW”. Scott giving 2012!Tony a mini heart attack and 2012!Thor being so concerned lol.

- Steve and Tony journeying to 1970 was great and I adore them being a team a lot. But I’m not here for the redeeming Howard. Don’t like that guy. Don’t. Like him. Only glad it gives Tony a bit of closure.

- Uh Nat and Clint killed me. I was a wreck. They were my original ship and that just....I really miss her and she didn’t deserve that. My beautiful girl.

- The scene when they’re back and discussing her death was so hard. Thor particularly hurt me with how he couldn’t accept it.

- I knew the whole last bit was coming and it just felt like this sense of impending doom. I hate that it happened, I hate that that dickhead came out of nowhere right when they were fixing shit.

- Okay. The last battle was really good. Steve with the hammer was great. But I wanted Tony to do more. They didn’t let him do enough there at all. I loved the shot of the big three looking at Thanos before they started to approach.

- Everyone cheered and freaked out when the dusted started coming back. Peter got the biggest cheer.

- That little sweet angel running over to Tony and picking him up. Starting rambling on about what happened because he’s got to fill his dad in. Tony looking at him LIKE THAT, just....struck by the fact that he’s back, unchanged, right here, in front of him. His kid. The kid that made him want to have kids. The hug was gorgeous. So sweet how Peter was like “this is nice”.

- Loved the ladies bit and Peter just like :o

- Pepper in her suit. So cool. I wanted more.

- Peter protecting the gauntlet. I love you angel baby. He was so good.

- The whole fight for the gauntlet right there in the end was so tense. I thought I would hate Tony’s last line because reading that felt contrived but it worked because of the way he said it. I didn’t like how long it took Thanos and his army to dust away. I thought it took away from Tony a little bit.

- The death was. Awful. It was better than I thought it would be, because he did get to whisper “hey babe” to Pepper, hold her hand, smile a little. Peter broke my fucking heart. But I hate the whole “you can rest now”. Pepper would fight for her man to the ends of the earth. It’s clear to me that they wanted to do this for shock and to subvert our expectations. It didn’t need to happen. It really didn’t. Like someone wrote on here, he could have lost his arm and it would have been shocking but we could have still.....saved him. It was so hard to see him like that. I was crying so hard I couldn’t really see much of it honestly lol. But I saw enough. It hurt like hell. It’s one of the worst if not THE worst death I’ve ever witnessed on screen.

- I went kinda catatonic after that. I don’t remember details. I was really mad that they put those words in Tony’s mouth about happy endings and not always getting that even if you want it. Fuck u russos and writers. Was Peter in the room for the message? Idk. He should have been.

- Annoyed they tried to make Thor be funny after that goddamn memorial.

- “proof tony stark has a heart” lord they really had to......hurt me in that way again.

- Uh the Steve ending is a huge, huge disservice to him. He’d never. He’d never lol. That means he ignores all these events he could stop. Yes, Russos, it fucking does mean that. That’s what u did to captain America.

- Like I read on @jess-b-thot’s blog, this movie should have fucking ended with Tony’s face, not Steve’s. It’s Tony’s story. Not Steve’s.

Ummmm when RDJ’s title card came up the whole theater stood and clapped. I was still crying. I cried so loud it was so embarrassing. I don’t really know how I’m feeling now. @whimsicalethnographies has said the word ‘adrift’ and that feels right. It definitely had some moments I enjoyed, but it was not a worthy ending. Tony was spectacular throughout and continually reminded me of why he’s my favorite and why I’ll just MISS him so desperately. Everything he says is memorable, everything he does is important. I want to etch every expression on his face into my heart. He also looked so beautiful and I just cried whenever I saw him because I can’t imagine that beautiful, precious man being gone. It’s a horrifying thought. He’s just so important, the beating heart of this universe, and they killed him for an emotional shock. That’s why I can’t accept it or accept this movie. They shouldn’t have done it. He deserves the ending Steve got. And since this was his last movie, he should have gotten WAY more to do in that last battle. That was a Steve fest. Moral of the story, Tony deserved better. But that was always the story. Tony deserved the world but the world didnt deserve him.

And yes, Iron Dad is canon. Tony would have stayed in that life he made, but he saw that picture and he couldn’t. If there was even a chance of bringing the kid back, he had to take it. Tony’s love for Peter saved the universe. I hope Peter knows that the whole world was saved because of him. Everyone is back because of him. And Tony is gone because he loved Peter enough to change the fabric of time and space to get him back.

They deserved more time.

#endgame spoilers #my thoughts #long post #aka i’m devastated #idk how to BE #and ffh can never address this well enough for me

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