#literally one of the greatest seen on the grid

[irisbleufic]

REVIEW

Gatsby: An American Myth (Welch, Chavkin, Bartlett, Majok, & Tayeh; American Repertory Theater)

Something that most adaptations of Gatsby get wrong, whether film or stage, is the treatment of characters as archetypes rather than individuals. Symbolism drowns out most genuine attempts at capturing emotional connections and conflicts of personality. They forget that this story is not only a failure of the so-called American Dream; first and foremost, it’s a tragedy of failed roles and relationships. Almost every one of the players is attempting to be someone they are not, and even as they reach for what they believe they should want, they reveal with increasing fervor what they actually want. This is the heart of what makes Welch’s new adaptation so devastatingly, disarmingly unique, so true to its source.

The set design is literal wreckage. Crushed and warped automobile chassis scaffold the moving staircases, and concealed trap doors. The backdrop shows no clear incorporation of the infamous Eckleburg billboard; rather, it is made up of a dotted grid resembling headlights. These play out effects ranging from a downpour to camera flashes to, briefly and only once, a pair of eyes that make no effort to hide behind the owlish frames of glasses. The only thing infusing this jagged framework with meaning is the people who move through it.

The lighting design works with the set’s incongruences, deepening or excavating shadows as needed. The brightness, when it flares, is blinding. Jewel tones either enhance or diminish a costuming scheme that is composed of either very pale or very dark shades, no in between. And whether it’s the post-apocalyptic black and gray cabaret garb of the ensemble or the wealthy protagonists’ pale suits or the gunmetal and gray denizens of the wasteland, everyone’s trouser and skirt hems are conspicuously rimed with reddish dust. The visual effects are nearly impossible to describe without sounding like I had some kind of desperate fever dream.

So far, I realize that these descriptions of the set and lighting design sound like this production is about to fall into the trap of overplaying symbolism, but please bear with me. With all of that established, I can focus on what’s truly extraordinary here, what’s meant to and does shine unhindered. The acting, musicianship and vocals are all so precise that it was hard for me to believe this show is still in previews. It feels Broadway ready, West End ready, major international tours ready. If I was the production crew, I’d turn this loose on a massive scale from the get-go without a second thought.

Much like with Hadestown, the musicians are not down in an orchestra pit. They’re characters in their own right, present on the stage from start to finish on tiered risers that run up from the center on each side from one of the catwalks. I’m sure Chavkin’s involvement as director has everything to do with why this show feels so much like, moves so much like Hadestown. The company is on an equally small scale, about 23 - 25 people including the principals.

Costuming among the ensemble is delightfully gender agnostic. I mention a cabaret aesthetic earlier in this review, and I’m not kidding. If you had shown me the ensemble costume designs without showing me the principals’ designs, I would have assumed I was looking at a Cabaret revival. They’re the most talented dancers I’ve seen occupy one stage in more than a decade. The choreography relies on movements in eerie unison for a significant portion of the show, but not without allowance for individual flair within those constraints. The guy sitting next to me, when I spoke to him at the intermission, said he works as a choreographer in regional theater, and he’d never seen anything like this. I couldn’t agree more; the dancing is singular, and as impressive as the musicianship is, the dancing and unusual body movement are maybe the greatest achievements of this show on the living, breathing end of things. I could have watched the dancers for those three hours without any dialogue or vocal intervention and still understood the story. That takes so much fucking doing.

As for the principal cast, they’re constantly among the ensemble; when I say these are all triple threats in the purest sense of that terminology, I really mean it. You always expect a few of the principals to be less dance and movement focused, more polished on the acting and singing side, but this show gives you terrifying proficiency from every angle. Even the guy playing Meyer Wolfsheim is at the center of what I think is the most memorable dance number in the piece. I’ve just never seen such versatile principals all in one production. What’s even more extraordinary is that I had never heard of or previously seen any of them, and that takes some doing given how much live theater I’ve consumed in several decades of life.

Ironically, the musical composition is the one aspect of this production on which I’ll be spending the least time. I need not tell you why Welch and Bartlett were perfect for this job. They understood the assignment, and then some. There’s not a single weak number among the track listings, and I desperately hope they release a recording soon. The standout numbers all have something in common: they showcase Soleia Pfeiffer as Myrtle Wilson. You can tell that’s the role where Welch sank most of the sound that’s considered her signature style. I don’t even need to describe it; you already know what I’m talking about. What’s impressive otherwise is the restraint, the lack of over-reliance on that signature style.

The principals are fucking perfect. I’ve kept this review tautly professional without meaning to thus far, but from here on out is where I start bleeding feels all over the post. If you don’t already know who my blorbos are due to my writing history with a Gatsby-related novel (The Pursued and the Pursuing, 2021), you’re going to know by the time you’re done reading this. You’re going to know exactly who I love and why, who I hate and why, who I ship and why. But you’ll also know that I approach all three of those elements from a place of enjoying every moment of those characters, even the ones I hate. Nobody’s performance put me off or struck the wrong tone when taken in context of the novel and how the tragedy of how their relationships play out.

For a long time, I’ve been saying that there are certain support roles, certain sidekicks, that make or break the higher-profile person to whose side they’re stuck, ride or die, until the bitter end. Horatio is a great example that I’ve ranted about before; if your Hamlet production has a lackluster Horatio, then it doesn’t matter how good the Hamlet is. You have nothing if you don’t have the binary star system at the heart of that harrowing universe. I’ve seen other adaptations of Gatsby consistently fall apart because Nick Carraway is treated like the kind of voyeur who doesn’t matter, the kind of voyeur who serves as the audience’s eyes and ears, and nothing else. Anyway, this is all to say: Ben Levi Ross as Nick might be the most compelling argument I can make for the fact that the creative team behind this show understood the assignment. He’s awkward, warm, sincere, and reactive in all of the ways you need Nick to be. He’s not a passive observer; he’s in the middle of everything, and he knows it. There’s a self-deprecating response he makes when one character, Jordan if I’m not mistaken, quips that maybe he’s the reason for Gatsby’s parties for all he knows. “Maybe I am,” he says, and the tongue-in-cheekness belies a gutting meta-sincerity. We believe Daisy is the point, Gatsby believes Daisy is the point, but what’s borne out every breathtaking moment of this production is that Nick is the point. He always was. He’s also given his due as a gay man in context of the story for the first time ever. I might make some folks mad when I say Nick has always been gay; I’m going to point you to Myrtle’s apartment party and the hookup with Mr. McKee as textual evidence in the novel. The kiss with McKee, the hookup with McKee, is unapologetically here. His lack of belonging everywhere else he’s ever been, because he is gay, is unapologetically here. One of the most memorable numbers in the show hinges on the hope feels at being able to be himself in New York. Queer fans of Gatsby have been waiting a long time for this. Anyone who’s read the text closely and understood him has been waiting a long time for this. I’ve been waiting several decades as a reader, and I would’ve waited forever to have Nick so fully, lovingly realized.

One of the other things that Gatsby adaptations have persistently gotten wrong is the titular character himself. The invention of Jay Gatsby hides the underlying James Gatz, makes it feel as if that old self is truly subsumed, as if it never mattered. But Isaac Powell gives us a Jay who’s exactly as he should be, who can’t hide beneath his own attempt at artifice and reinvention worth a goddamn. He’s young (as young as Nick; they’re 32 and 30 respectively both in the novel and here), painfully earnest, and just barely keeping a handle on the criminal shit he’s had to do in order to get where he is. When he says old sport to Nick, it’s not an affectation; when he says it to Tom, it becomes a biting insult. This is a Jay who knows where and why he’s vulnerable; he latches onto Nick like a not because he sees a man close to Daisy that he can exploit, but because he sees another young man who’s equally vulnerable, equally an outsider, equally haunted by the things they had to do in the war. From the moment they meet, they are almost always touching—a hand on the shoulder, on the back, getting in social harm’s way for each other, eyes seeking each other without cease in the most crowded of settings. When Jay takes Nick to lunch to meet Wolfsheim (who has in this production taken on the function of Dan Cody as well), it’s not to have somebody else vouch for the artifice of who Jay Gatsby is. It’s taking Nick to meet his fucking father-figure, and all of the messy, sincere “if you hurt my boy, I’ll kill you” sentiment that Wolfsheim aims at Nick was the moment I knew just how much the Nick’s loss by the end was going to hurt. Jay’s love for Daisy is a ghost of itself, even if as painfully earnest as everything else about him. Meanwhile, his attachment to Nick is so disarmingly genuine from the start that you understand the true tragedy you’re about to watch untold: these men who need each other, maybe even were made for each other, each prove unable to step outside their parallel distractions from what they truly are to each other. Jay’s interactions with Daisy and Nick’s interactions with several male and/or gender ambiguous members of the ensemble have something in common, which is a shocking level of physicality. This show had an intimacy coordinator; that’s the level of no holds barred we’re talking about. When you look at Tom and Myrtle, you can see why that was merited, too.

Speaking of Tom (Cory Jeacoma), the treatment of him here is every bit as scary as it should be. There’s no attempt to make him palatable, unlike what I’ve seen done with him in other adaptations. He towers over everyone else in the cast, I mean everyone, to a physical degree that’s uncomfortable. The way his wife, lover, and friends all flinch when he gets too close to them speaks volumes to the fact that he’s an abuser in every sense of the term. Even Nick, the prodigal college friend from Yale, is on eggshells around him (which, by the hotel blowup at the end of the show, becomes a sneering, reckless contempt, one of the driving forces that drives Nick to put himself between Jay and Tom whenever real harm is on the table). At the same time, this is a Tom who sincerely loves his wife and was only ever using Myrtle as a fling. You can tell he never meant any of the promises he made Myrtle. When Daisy tells him she didn’t stop the car on purpose, it’s as if his wife’s unapologetic act of manslaughter (“It was her or me!”) is the thing that wins him back. They aren’t careless people; they are people who consciously choose, day in and day out, to use others until they’re bored or done with them. The ruthlessness of Tom and Daisy as a couple is impressive, played up to a level that I feel more adaptations should do without fear of exaggerating the text.

As mentioned above, Daisy (Charlotte MacInnes) is no delicate, nervous creature who can’t help her actions under duress. She knows what she’s doing every bit as much as Tom knows what he’s doing. They use people, hurt people because they get bored and restless and enjoy it. I respect a Daisy who’s in control of her actions every step of the way even if I don’t like her; it’s better than trying to depict her as weak and at the mercy of the men around her. She’s a pragmatist and a survivor. So many of her songs are about choices and being conscious of those choices. She is a person you should fear every bit as much as you fear her husband, and even Jordan knows she’s not safe in Daisy’s orbit.

As Jordan, Eleri Ward is one of the neatest personalities on stage. Like Tom, she’s noticeably taller than most, which gives her a commanding physical presence. She has no romantic interest in anyone; I fucking love that this production show her and Nick bonding on the basis of being queer and tired of everyone else’s shit. This is a more likable, relatable Jordan than I’ve seen in the past. This is a Jordan whose relationship to Gatsby is much more familiar and warm, much more akin to the friendship she forms with Nick. In fact, the queer-and-tired vibes that roll off several of the principals in this production are palpable.

Myrtle and Wilson (Matthew Amira) aren’t always played as effective foils for Daisy and Tom, but here? They unquestionably are. They do actually love each other in spite of the things they’ve done to hurt each other, and it’s a constant dance of daring each other, challenging each other. The most memorable duet in the entire show is between them, during Act II. The confrontation is positively electric. These are two people with deep, complicated history. Of all the couples in the show, they feel the most real, the most alive. It makes the loss of Myrtle so much more wrenching; she’s not just a plot device emblematic of the bad choices they’ve all been making. She’s not shallow or frivolous or anything like that. She’s a shrewd woman with complex motivations, and for the first time ever I find myself loving her and caring what happens to her. She’s thrust even further into the action in that one of her part time gigs is working as a maid at Gatsby’s parties, a conceit that works shockingly well and hastens the devastating consequences of her affair with Tom.

I’ve made mention of Meyer Wolfsheim’s (Adam Grupper) uniquely enhanced role previously, so I’d be remiss if I didn’t comment on him again. This is a man who does, in fact, seem to give a shit about Jay above and beyond using him as a tool in his criminal empire. It’s not necessarily a healthy father-son dynamic, but Wolfsheim is usually played as ruthless, opportunistic, inhumanly calculating. Here, he’s a charming, but unquestionably dangerous man moved by a young soldier’s plight. He seems conflicted between his love for Jay and his need to have Jay continue to hold the party line within their business relationship. Wolfsheim is deeply conflicted about Jay in a way that I haven’t seen any Wolfsheim be played previously. And, as I mentioned earlier, the actor has a showstopper of a song and dance number. That may be the #1 “I wasn’t expecting that, but I’ll take it!” moment for me in this show. And I say “may be” only because the moment that truly stopped my heart, will stay with me until everything else fades from memory, is perhaps only understandable in the context of my engagement with the text of Gatsby as a writer of transformative works.

Daisy’s and Tom’s daughter, Pam Buchanan doesn’t always appear in adaptations because she’s a toddler. Even in the novel, she a throwaway mention plus a single scene near the end where the nanny brings her out to meet Jay and Nick. She’s most often left as a throwaway mention without even grave of the scene where she appears. The scene in the novel, however brief, is memorable—and has been captured in all its fragile beauty for the first time in this adaptation. Jay and Nick both pay bewildered, wondering attention to this kid when she’s brought out. Jay drops to his knees and takes her hand when she greets him while Nick looks on in a moment of singular focus on both of them. The child who plays Pam here has a spark, an expressiveness that made me choke up even though she’s only on stage for a few minutes, if that. The tableau is one in which you can feel the shock of reality, however brief, touch on these men—Daisy’s and Tom’s reckless actions may yet do harm to someone who’s barely even begun to live her life, but who is just conscious enough to be a participant in it. They recognize that they, like this child, are probably in for a word of ruin—and that they have let it go on for so long that there’s now nothing they can do about it. For me, the deepest tragedy was watching Nick and Jay throw off that moment of heartbroken, horrified recognition prompted by Pam and return to the parts they’d decided to play out until the moment one of their hearts stopped.

Speaking of grief, of Nick’s grief since he’s the one who loses so much: there is only one person who loses more, and that’s Mr. Gatz, Jay’s father. They preserve his arrival at the house when Nick is the only person who stays around to carry out Jay’s funeral and burial. And when he arrives, the visceral shock of seeing his dark skin, braids, and beaded elements of Native regalia in juxtaposition with his otherwise period-typical Western garb underscore the tragedy of what young Jay was running away from, of what he never quite succeeded in erasing from himself. The burial scene shows Nick reverently bringing several of Jay’s folded shirts from the house and handing them down into the grave to Mr. Gatz, who places them reverently as possessions to accompany his son into thereafter. The cultural ramifications are all at once understated and devastating. Nick has moments with each of Jay’s father figures that are among the most complex and moving in the show. The program does not make clear the name of the ensemble member who takes on this most memorable of all Mr. Gatz appearances, and this erasure in and of itself is both unfortunate and telling. This is a world that never belonged to the majority of those who inhabit it, and Nick realizes it with heartbroken clarity after having this final interaction. Even though he’s an outsider, he’s part of a world that has erased and betrayed the man he loved so much at every turn.

The closing number, “We Beat On,” felt like it needed something more, but it utilized the final line of the novel to a deeply moving effect. The lights go down suddenly as the last word is sung; it feels like the song is half finished. When the lights came up, Nick and Jay were center stage in each other’s embrace, just withdrawing from each other as the entire company transitioned into final bows. That’s how I’ll remember them, always: touching even when they’ve already lost each other, borne ceaselessly back into each other’s arms. If Nick is Orpheus, then I have no doubt that he, too, will tell this story again and again until someday, somewhere, something gives.

[accio-victuuri]

I was so curious about the red string bracelet ( clearly seen in airport photos shanghai > singapore ) and charm XZ is currently wearing. i’ve been using mine for more than 3 years now because of him among other “charms” here and there. i’m referencing this post by FlowerField_博肖拾光机.

The bracelet composition itself is a red rope, similar to his old one. This kind of red string has different meaning depending on the culture but for XZ i would think it’s more of having a personal instrument of luck and protection. tied to a belief in Buddhism that this bracelet can ward off evil spirits. These bracelets are handmade. While making knots, they ( buddhist monks ) repetitively recite mantras for the goodwill of the wearer.

now for the charm, there are two meanings as both sides have 2 different designs. the first one being “fu” which means luck. traditionally it symbolizes goodwill & happiness— placing the character upside-down symbolizes it 'pouring out' or 'arriving. ' and upside-down fu character on your front door is a clever way to invite luck's arrival at your home.

the other side is a horse. i was wondering why, cause i’m 90 ( year of the horse ) and ZZ is 91 ( year of the goat/sheep. literally greatest of all time lol. it suits xiao laoshi ) so he should not be wearing it.

the OP suggested to use the 十二生肖 3合6合生肖 查询表 table. as per the grids, the match for sheep for “6” is horse and this is possibly why the charm he uses is this.

okay, let me try and explain it further…

Ancient Chinese sages believed that human life is destined, but destiny can be changed. One’s fortune is closely related to the mutual growth and restraint of each person's zodiac signs. Therefore, there is also a mutually reinforcing relationship between people. Finding the zodiac who is compatible with your own sign will be helpful to your life's fortune, interpersonal relationships, marriage and family.

The so-called Sanhe (3) and Liuhe (6) are the attraction and concentration of the power of certain elements among the Five Elements (wood, fire, earth, metal, and water). It can be seen from this that unity is the attraction, affinity and cohesion of the five elements. It is mainly based on the three combinations and six combinations of the earthly branches (i.e. "zodiac signs") of the year of birth.

In the 3 part of the table, for example in XZ’s case, sheep/pig/rabbit zodiac signs form a good triad together. Think of it as a kind of "bright combination", one that is fair and upright. It is the auspicious match of the three zodiac signs.

The three-in-one combination not only has a good fit, but also has thoughts, values, habits, actions. These people are usually so in tune with each other. The three-in-one zodiac signs are four years apart. As the saying goes, getting married four years apart is a match made in heaven. This is based on the "three-in-one".

As for the 6, known as your zodiac’s Liu He ( the six directions hence marked as 6 in the table even if there is just one match ). This is more of a secret alliance to that particular zodiac.

They may give strong support to the zodiac sign at work, or give timely advice/help the sign of the zodiac sign in terms of wealth, interpersonal relationships, or provide spiritual comfort. They co-exist harmoniously.

It makes sense. That luck charm added with the the strongest sign that helps the sheep which is GG ❤️

[raapija]

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm i'm assuming you'll have a lot of the normal people i would ask about in your inbox already............so

ferrucci, georgie boy, canapino??????? 👀

but actually...... josef newgarden, valtteri bottas, sergio perez and scott dixon??

(do as many or as few as you want 😅)

(I had this post almost done and then tumblr broke on me and didn't save my draft. 🥲)

Bestie, you got me 👹

This is gonna be a long one...

I legitimately think the drivers wouldn't even notice Fruit Cheese and Canapino missing if they left indy. After a couple weeks, someone would mention taht the air felt more pure and easier to breathe so they finally realuze Fruit Loop is gone. They have a big barbeque get-together and celebrate getting rid of him 🎉🎉🎉 Romain gives a speech on how much he despised him and everyone cheers. Kyle and Colton kiss in his honour, sementing the Boyfriend Teammates brand in indy history for good, thanks Fercoochie. (only good thing he did was make up a pretty good ship name.)

The drivers never notice Canapino's absence and he is forgotten forever.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

George.... I fear that you are slowly starting to brainwash me into letting go of my lifetime grudge against him... NOOOOOOO 👹👹👹👹👹👹

Bro is pretty fucking beautiful, I won't lie. And his friendship with Alex is very cute :>

I literally have 2 seconds worth of knowledge about Newgarden and Dixon, so I can't really talk about them 💀 All I know is that Scotty is like 70 yo and still driving like a madman ?? Kinda like Nando 😭

Josef is a pretty funny and charismatic guy, from the two clips I've seen of him on tiny cars with Hinch.... And also, I think this photo of him might be the greatest indy photo ever taken ?

Checo :((( I love him, but he has to get his shit together on track :(((

He is one of my original faves, I've liked him all the way from force india 😭 His little cute freckles ❤️

Also, Sakhir 2020 is definitely one of my absolute favorite races ever. The way Checo fought his way up from the back of the field to win the race was phenomenal. Insane. And the emotion on the podium and him sitting there alone crying.... and how that was his first win after so many years in the sport and it secured him a seat at red bull of all places !! And Lance and Esteban were there on the podium with him 😭😭❤️

Valtteri, my fellow Finnish weirdo ❤️

His run with Mercedes was everything.... The way he and Lewis were in complete understanding of each other and how Valtteri helped him every time. People forget that Valtteri is a multi-race winner and finished p2 in the championship in 2019 and 2020 (3rd in -17 and -21). He could've been a world champion, but Lewis was chosen before him, and he's never talked ill about him.

He's one of the genuinely nicest and funniest people on grid and has never caused drama. And he gets along with all his teammates ! Him and Zhou are adorable ❤️

[gal1antry]

Fanfic idea I never got off the ground

Name: In The Grid

Cypher discovers a similarity in all the medical documents of the radiant agents in Valorant.

For context: The First Light happened when all of them were young, some of the younger agents being literal children at the time. When the radiant scare started governments began to medically assess every individual for signs. The thing is, looking at the documents, Cypher finds that almost all the radiant agents with legal medical documents are diagnosed and marked with a certain symbol. A segmented globe and the symbol of shining light. None of the ‘human’ agents have this.

Cypher, the curious, nosy, bastard he is, does some digging, meets up with an informant at a café, seeks out some ‘doctors’, hacks into the greatest firewall of code he’s ever seen, and gets a whole lot more than he bargained.

Because, he unintentionally uncovers one of the greatest secrets of Alpha Earth.

Because, isn’t it strange how one earth can have so much of this vital material, while the other, mirrored in every way, scrapes by for scraps and jumps dimensions to take it for themselves?

Cypher discovers that Alpha Earth is also in a radianite crisis, but unlike Omega Earth, came up with a solution. A sickening, inhumane, insane solution, but one that has kept this Earth more than functioning, but thriving in overabundance.

It’s called The Grid. A catalogue of every single radiant on the planet, listing information from their names to jobs, to homes and day to day activities, to the measurement of the Radianite in each of their bodies and how it has grown as they’ve aged.

To an in depth procedure of how much can be optimally harvested when needed.

Harvested.

What follows is Cypher going on a rampage to try and understand where The Grid originated. Suddenly, deaths he’s seen on the news don’t seem too random anymore. The discrimination and hate crimes against radiants don’t feel like once-in-a-blue-moon events. He finds videos of children sitting in white rooms, crayons, paper, and candy sprawled before them, their parents just a room away, while a smiling unidentified individual asks them questions with a strange device gripped in their hand.

At first, he assumes Kingdom is the one at play, but Kingdom turns out to be equally a pawn in this system. They are being supplied radianite from The Grid, sure, but it’s all under more ethical pretense. Cypher points a gun at a CEO of Kingdom and gets full honesty and nothing at all about The Grid. Kingdom doesn’t know anything.

Eventually, he’s forced to reveal his hand. Valorant is becoming suspicious of his disappearances and confront him on the matter, and Cypher, reeling from revelations and coming to the conclusion that dealing with the people effected by it the most is the best choice, explains what little he knows about The Grid.

There’s distress, horror, and anger from the radiant agents. Reyna seems to be the most bloodthirsty about the revelation, knowing her sister is among those listed in The Grid. Other radiants end up sharing their experiences in the ‘white room’ and Cypher is finally given a lead based on their collective information.

This lead points him to a woman, and then a job, and then an operation working in its shadow, and then a harvest in progress.

Cypher tries to save a child who reminds him too much of his own as they’re ripped apart and turned into an ingot of commercial radianite.

This is Cypher’s final straw.

He kills everyone. He burns the warehouse to the ground. He attempts to release The Grid into the public internet space, but is apprehended and captured.

By the government, consisting of both Alpha and Omega individuals.

“Don’t tamper with our system.” They say.

“Fuck you.” Cypher bites back, and fights with tooth and nail to get the word out there, to Valorant on both sides.

But here comes the kicker. A moral dilemma. Radianite is needed. Both sides agree that The Grid isn’t the way to go about it, but if The Grid we’re to stop on Alpha, what would that cause? Alpha would collapse, of course, this sustainability is only a farce held up by murder, after all, but then what would happen to Omega who is already on the decline?

You can see, that it is here that I, the author, got horribly stuck. There is no way to make a happy ending out of this. Stop child murder, cause the collapse of worlds. Keep child murder, everyone lives with bountiful radianite and a horrid understanding of where it comes from.

This concept was going to end in tragedy no matter what side they, or I, chose, and I couldn’t follow through.

[russilton]

"but some people can’t stand it." tbh fans have always been weird about Lewis and his ships with his teammates. Nobody shipped Valewis when Valteri is probably Lewis' closest friend on the grid. It all goes back to Nico and the fall of Brocedes tbh, so much of Lewis' career is tied to him and that particular rivalry. Lewis is also super closed off (again thank you Nico), George and Mick are probably the two people he actually interacts with in some capacity. It's difficult to ship him with anyone tbh, I quite like Britcedes btw but I can see why people may not feel too comfortable.

People being weird is the tagline to fandom, you could present them with a perfect ship and someone would still hate it. In a way I appreciate the freedom it gives me to do whatever the fuck I want.

I don’t ship valewis either bc again, Monoshipper, but if you want valewis, anon, I should recommend @milflewis - I love platonic and especially bromantic valewis with my entire soul, but if you want romantic, Niamh is the way to go. You can also see @princemick for mick and Lewis. It’s not my ship, but Kyle would drown just trying to swim to that boat

I think with Lewis ships it comes down to a perfect storm of Lewis being genuinely quite reserved and protective of his interactive circles bc he’s got trust issues you can see from space, the fallout of brocedes, and people just not liking George and Val. Sewis is without a doubt popular for a reason, I love Seb as Lewis’ friend, but seb is also undeniably more popular than George or Val will probably ever be, and that’s why sewis is much bigger.

And that’s someone Lewis really likes, If you need proof of how some people prefer character over interaction, look at Ch*wis. If Lewis so much as stands near Charles half my dash gets filtered for the next few days. Val and George don’t get that hype, Val only gets slightly more favourable treatment now he’s not Lewis’ teammate anymore, and I’ve literally seen folks get mad at George for breathing (on radio). That’s the nature of fandom, people like what they like and gravitate toward it.

For me, I mean Lewis has naked framed photos of vals ass and secret pics of George’s tits, he takes ice baths with George and travels to tracks with Val, he posts about them both fairly often, but that tends to get swept under the “well they’re teammates” umbrella. Some people find that less interesting, I’m personally frothing at the mouth and shredding paper because of it, but that’s me.

The scars of brocedes run deep. I hate it with a passion, it’s one of the few ships I genuinely cannot stand. For some people I’d assume that means shipping Lewis with a teammate again is out of the question, but to me I think that actually adds to the allure of them.

Val taught Lewis he could trust a teammate again, that he could be friends with them again, that it was safe to be vulnerable and it wouldn’t be used against him. George compounds that by showing Lewis that even if he’s competing with his teammate, they can still love each other. They can still work together, they can still share a family, they can still grow together. George is louder than Val, different, he’s got a spark Lewis sees in himself and it also scares him because he remembers what he went through. But George has been with them since 2016, as long as cal, he hangs on Lewis’ every word even now and smiles like sunshine when Lewis glances at him, and Lewis has grown too, he’s not who he was in 2016, and he’s not Nico.

I love writing about Lewis and Val and George BECAUSE they are the tree that grew from rotten fruit, as a concept the three of them are about growth and change and recovery from trauma. They’re about understanding what George and Val go through as the teammates of the greatest of all time, but also them having to understand the unique fire Lewis was forged in and the pressures he is under. They are my addiction and I love teammate stories bc it’s the classic trope of together against it all, and of found family within Mercedes

[milk-breads]

​literally. i know most people tend to applaud maxiel for managing to have such a beautiful and strong bond in the cutthroat sport that is F1 but i also want to point out how mature daniel is for being able to handle it the way he did. i’m not going to say he never had any resentment towards max or what because i don’t know him but if he did then he never showed it. he was never salty or bitter at all (at least publicly) about how different the trajectories of their careers went. he didn’t even grow apart from max.

instead they supported each other all throughout, in fact their friendship became stronger when daniel left red bull. daniel saying “if it’s not me, i’m glad it’s him.” and “i have no problems saying he can go down as one of the greatest in this sport.” with no reluctance. max always telling people that daniel has so many things to be proud of and how he is a great driver. max sending daniel a text of support during japan, being one of the only people to have daniel’s back when he was getting backlash. daniel wearing a cape to show support for max at his first home race. max being with daniel all throughout singapore, easily one of the worst weeks in daniel’s career.

through the good and the bad they are there for each other, always. what they have is something bigger than F1. in a sport where everyone, especially your teammate, is your enemy and rival, max and daniel managed to go through all of that with one of the strongest friendships the grid has ever seen.

It's just so absolutely crazy how close Max and Daniel got despite the things that happened when they were teammates. Max is essentially the reason Daniel left and his career went spiralling. Max is the one who came in and became the golden child when Daniel was the WDC hope after Vettel. Max who watched Daniel with heart eyes from day 1. Daniel who taught Max they can be teammates and friends at the same time. And he left and they missed each other, went on vacations, and introduced each other to their friends circle, who watched one rise and rise, and the other struggle. And it all, ALL, comes down to "if it's not me, I'm glad it's him" and "thank you, Daniel" ALWAYS

[fcb-mv33]

People deadass were like "Michael's overrated he never had a wdc teammate Lewis did ergo Lewis better because he beat them" forgetting one of Michael's first teammates was 3x wdc Piquet *facepalms*

#

No because despite participating in less than half of the season, Michael still placed 14th above drivers who had participated in every round in 1991.

Michael came third in 1992 beating wdcs like Senna & future wdcs like Mika Hakkinen.

He came fourth in '93 in spite of 7 retirements.

He won 1994 & 1995 which speaks for itself.

The Ferrari of 1996 was like the red bull of 2018, it was quite simply a shit box, a tick time bomb but like Daniel & Max, Michael still managed to drag it not just into the points but into the podium places. He still came third just below the far superior Williams (younger fans be like; 👁️👄👁️, lmao yeah Williams were once one of the quickest on the grid, hopefully they will be again soon). In comparison, his teammate in the same car placed tenth overall.

Schumi I love him but he did commit literal war crimes on track that got him disqualified in '97 but he would've been second had he not.

The McLaren of '98 was a rocketship. Michael still placed second beating Coulthard's McLaren, if not Mika's. He also beat defending wdc Villeneuve & wdc Hill (we love to see it).

'99 saw Michael suffer a broken leg in a crash in Silverstone so he was ruled out for most of the season. Despite not starting seven races, he still came fifth. (Again beating Hill we love to see it).

2000-2004 the historic five in a row speaks for itself. He beat both past wdcs and wdcs in the making and unlike the mercs of the hybrid era there wasn't always such a gap between what the cars were capable of (you can argue '04).

Michael came third in '05, now wdc Alonso and future wdc Kimi taking first and second. Michael came second in '06.

People need to put some goddamn respect on Schumi's name.

‘Beating Damon hill you’d love to see it’ YES ANON WE ABSOLUTELY DO LOVE TO SEE IT.

But seriously I’ve nothing to add, to not respect this man shows how little either they know about the sport or that they purely ignore what he has done in Formula 1.

So 👏👏 to you anon🧡

[ricstappen]

Personally speaking I don't think he is undisputably the best driver on the grid, and I don't think the current points are a good way to find out who is anyway, but Max is definitely undoubtedly one of the best. I don't mean to say he isnt the best just that I think that finding out who is the best is complicated and I really can't pick a single best driver you know? Sorry for rambling I'm sleepy and I tend to over explain my thoughts.

My actually point though, is that, whether I can say he's the best right now or not doesn't change how amazing he is as a driver. I don't understand how people can say he's a horrible driver and doesn't deserve his wins. I get many people saying that just aren't fans of his, but there's a difference between talking bad about someone you don't like and just lying or ignoring the facts.

He has had an incredibly, incredibly successful career for his age and the amount of time he has been in the sport. He is the youngest driver to ever join f1 which is beyond impressive, he had very good starting years in f1 and has had very good years with redbull now. He won the drivers championship for fucks sake. That takes skill! And a lot of it! You don't just get handed one. Even with the last race. Even with how bad the FIA is at there job. Even with shitty calls. You can't ignore the talent that got him there. Because even if some things worked more in his favour than in Lewis's, he still had to be in a close second for it to actually benefit him you know? It wasn't handed to him, he still had to work for it. And I don't think the FIA and Massi purposefully helped him out, they just made a few bad calls but they always do, but even if they did he would still have to like work for it? Hand outs don't work if you don't start from a place of success anyway.

He is an amazing driver with a good history with a big amount of race wins especially for age and experience and he's gone up against and beaten some of the best people the sport has literally ever seen. You don't beat some of the best people the sport has ever seen by being a bad driver, you only do that if you're good and talented you know?

He doesn't have that many wins and poles because he is bad. He doesn't have a long contract because he is bad. They didn't out their faith in a 17 year old because he is bad. They did it because he's fucking amazing. Like literally amazing. I have watched him do some of the most beautiful over takes I have ever seen. He did this one gorgeous overtake from the outside in like his first year in f1??? And I still haven't gotten over it. I think about it all the time because of how fucking gorgeous and amazing it was you know? There aren't a bunch of drivers currently his friends because he gets stuff handed to him either. I mean realistically is he was a shitty driver who constantly won why would they be friends with him? I wouldn't want to be friends with someone who got handed wins so I doubt they would either. So that also says something. The praise he gets from his friends and fellow drivers say something. I fucking hate everyone in a position of power who works with redbull but their praise still matters too. Like Helmut Marko? He sucks. He's horrible. But also he constantly says good stuff about Max. Like Max is good enough to get Christian and Helmut to say good stuff about him that's genuinely impressive. He's an impressive dude. He drives great. Absolutely great. And I'm so annoyed people act like he doesn't cause even if you don't like him that doesn't mean you can just ignore such a talent. Such a good driver. He still drives well with a damaged car. He has won so much this season that even with the DNFs at the beginning they haven't dropped his points to a point where it would affect him. Give him a few years and he'll be even more impressive than he is now. Like. He hasn't had the greatest career but that doesn't mean his career hasn't been amazing so far and it's only gonna improve from the looks of it too. He's a star a true talented fucking star

Sorry if I sound deranged or like an idiot typing this I'm in a weird head space but I just need to get it out there that Max slaps and is fantastic and deserves better recognition from fans. He deserves SOOOO much more. Because it isn't fair that only his team really recognizes it.

ngl when I first saw an essay in my inbox I was prepping for a fight… I’m on near lethal amounts of cold medication so this was mostly a blur but yes max slaps and deserves more and thank you for sending 🧡

[quorras]

Character opinion bingo - tron and quorra?

TRON!!! MY BELOVED!!!!! Idk what to say!!! I love every version of him across all installations and I literally love his story arc so much too. I mean, Tron is the main character of the franchise. Tron in '82 is a wonderful display of the kind of warrior he is while also just being adorable the whole time, and I love that we actually get to see a bit of the progress of how he hardens through Betrayal-Evolution-Uprising. I wish we could've seen more about Rinzler, around or just before Legacy, because the juxtaposition of Rinz vs '82 Tron is so jarring and wonderfully painful. It's unfortunate how much he gets pushed to the side when he's literally the titular character (cough Tr3n cough), but where D/sney is too much of a coward to fill in canon, there are so many fics that have creative ways of filling in Tron's blanks that I genuinely love reading for the hell of it. Tron also has the most interesting dynamics/relationships in the franchise—I'd kill to know what Tron's inner dialogue when working with Flynn post-82/pre-Clu2 was, and same with him & Clu2. Idk man!!! Tron's just so cool and somehow very under-appreciated!!!!! I love him so much!!!?!?!!!

And, of course, QUORRA!!!!! If there's any character that deserves the hero of the Grid after Tron, it's probably Quorra, honestly. Legacy and '82 have nearly the same plot with different stakes but what I love is that Quorra is a completely new character not based on anyone from '82 (if anything, she's kinda to Sam like what Ram was to Flynn in her role? idk). I am not immune to the 2010s short black-haired action girl trope okay, I still think it's cool when done well. I think it's a bit unfortunate how sexualised she is in most prominent fandom work and promotional stuff (and I do feel bad about hearing about Olivia Wilde not having the greatest time on set). Quorra's so interesting to me because 1) ISOs as a concept are so cool and man I wish that was explored more, 2) her mentor-mentee relationship with Radia and later Flynn are clear indications of some sort of intellectual prowess that we don't get to see (but wish we did!!!!), and these influential Grid figures trusting her to such an extent is a clear indication that there's meant to be some greater role for Quorra one day, 3) the Uprising movie scripts! She's badass (if her tropes on TV tropes are any indication lmao) throughout, and I love that we get to see that consistently through Evolution and Legacy, and I can only hope Uprising would've given us more of that, and 4) After everything, the naive curiosity and brightness Quorra carries over having to be 'tough' and traumatised is another one of my favorite tropes and I only wish it was explored more. Idk man!!! There's so much to love about Quorra—I think more post-Legacy Grid repair fics need to include her more often. As always, just wish there was more canon content about all the big blanks in her story!!!!!

[ravnicaforgoblins]

Ravnica for Goblins

Alignment

Figuring out where on the spectrum of beliefs, morals, and neutrality your character falls can be a challenge. One individual’s Chaotic Good is another’s Lawful Evil. To help clarify things, most campaigns include alignment for significant NPCs, and one can often draw a line between that NPC and that alignment. This doesn’t apply to every NPC, but the more important someone is, the more they come to represent a specific section of the moral grid in a campaign.

Ravnica does this as well, with most of the alignment chart represented by a Guildmaster. This isn’t completely uniform, however, so there’s wiggle room for an NPC to lean one way or the other as fits the story. There are some pretty safe bets, however, who can be counted on to check certain boxes at all times.

Isperia of the Azorius Senate: Lawful Neutral

Isperia represents the goal of the Azorius; objective devotion to upholding the laws as they are written. She was elected to her position because of her ability to look passed right & wrong, instead focusing solely on interpreting Ravnica’s 10d6 of Psychic damage legal system for all disputes.

Lazav of House Dimir: Neutral Evil

Lazav is the Dimir at their most annoying but least murderous. Blatant disregard for everyone’s privacy, but preference for stealing, secrets, and information over assassination. Lazav infiltrates every Guild, including his own, always determined to stay several steps ahead of any potential threat. This is not to say he won’t kill people if necessary, but his is a cold, “bloodstained calculus” methodology. It’s never personal.

Rakdos of the Cult of Rakdos: Chaotic Evil

On this plane, Rakdos is the living embodiment of Chaotic Evil, a title he takes very seriously. It’s just about the only thing he takes seriously, as he prefers to live without rules and have everyone else do the same. Unrestrained hedonism and mayhem are his bread & butter. You do what you want, whatever you want, whenever you want, however you want, regardless of what anyone or anything else says. No restrictions, no inhibitions, no hesitation. Encouraging this kind of destructive chaos in the streets is the only thing keeping Rakdos from embracing more orthodox Chaotic Evil behavior of slaughtering millions, enslaving thousands, and bowing to no one.

The Obzedat of the Orzhov Syndicate: Lawful Evil

Hard to believe there can be something worse than an actual Demon given permission to encourage every sin imaginable, but that is what the Ghost Council are. The Obzedat exist to stretch, bend, and twist every law designed to maintain order, neutrality, or justice so as to benefit themselves. What’s worse is how the Orzhov play innocent when they do it. Unlike the Dimir or the Rakdos who accept and even embrace society’s interpretation of their actions, the Orzhov refuse to be seen as anything but humble, spiritual, gracious public servants. The very antithesis of what they actually are; arrogant, miserly, manipulative bastards. They will point out exactly which laws they are not breaking, which laws there is insufficient evidence to prove they are breaking, and which laws prevent you from punching them in the face right now.

Trostani of the Selesnya Conclave: Neutral Good

If there’s one thing to be said for Selesnya, it’s that they are rarely the problem. The Conclave is perfectly content to keep to their fields & forests most of the time and focus solely on building up their own Guild. In a city where every Guild has a problem with every other Guild, Selesnya is the only one who at least tries to get along with everyone else. They don’t tend to get involved in matters that don’t concern them, but theirs is always a safe haven for those who seek it. Trostani is made up of three dryads representing Harmony, Life, and Order. You don’t get much more Neutral Good than that. The only problem is that Trostani basically never leave their Guildhall, so their influence only spreads so far. The reason they can live so peacefully is because so little of the chaotic city life overlaps into theirs.

Besides them, everyone has wiggle room and gray area to move around in. Both Niv-Mizzet and Borborygmos are canonically Chaotic Neutral, but with their most prominent personality traits being vanity & anger, respectively, the “Neutral” part of that can go out the window quick. Still, almost every Guild has at least a semblance of a position somewhere on the chart to start from. You can basically count on a member of each Guild to be at least:

Azorius Senate: Lawful

This is the Guild that writes the laws of Ravnica, after all. They literally draw their power from this ancient legal code, so it makes sense that, whether an Azorius leans more towards Good, Evil, or Neutrality, they do so lawfully.

Boros Legion: Good

If the Azorius follow the intellectual letter of the law, the Boros follow the passionate spirit for which said law was originally written. Justice, not legal-ese. Sometimes the law is good enough, but sometimes it fails its citizens. A Boros should be an inspiring force for Good, whether Lawful or Chaotic depends on the individual.

House Dimir: Neutral

The best a Dimir operative can hope to achieve, morally speaking, is neutrality. If you are working for this Guild, you are lying & stealing. Odds are you are infiltrating another Guild to find/steal information to report back to your superior(s). Not every Dimir agent does this willingly, however. Maybe a character only became a Dimir operative after finding out their mentor was. Maybe a character had nowhere else to turn and no one else to depend on. Maybe they just needed House Dimir’s connections to get them close enough to someone in another Guild who wronged them. Whatever the motivation, cling to that gray area of neutrality like your life depends on it. It’s all you’ve got.

Gruul Clans: Chaotic

Gruul are many things. “Lawful” is not one of them. If you’re a member of a Gruul Clan, you’ve definitely got a bit of a temper on you and a strong disregard for authority. Now, a Gruul can absolutely be a force for good, or, conversely, evil. Maybe you joined the Gruul after your ancestral home was bulldozed over for a smelly Izzet facility. Maybe you had a mental breakdown after decades of trying to uphold law in a city where the laws mean jack shit unless there’s a guy in blue sitting at his desk. Maybe you got tired of planting trees and getting stepped on. Maybe you don’t like the pretentiousness of so-called “artists”. Maybe you just like hitting things. Whatever your reason, the Gruul will welcome another anarchist.

Golgari Swarm: Chaotic/Evil/Neutral

The Golgari Swarm are the first Guild where you’re really going to find a lot of diversity in alignment. Some definitely fall into the chasm of Chaotic Evil Necromancers, others stand firmly in the fields of True Neutral Rot Farmer, and some idly wander between the two. Necromancy is pretty normal in Golgari society, and “Evil” can be considered a harsh word to describe it. It’s definitely more normalized in the Undercity than it is on the surface. A lot of typically Evil behavior is like that for the Golgari, lest we forget that this society of giant bugs, necromancers, zombies, medusa, etc also run the sewage system and food stamps program for the city. That said, there are definitely Golgari with sufficient ambition/motivation to become ready-made Big Bads. What is a Lich, after all, but a wizard who says, “No, I’m too important to die!”

Izzet League: Chaotic

If there’s one predictable aspect of the Izzet, it’s that they are unpredictable. For a Guild whose founding principle is “I wonder what would happen if....”, it’s best to accept that you’ll never be Lawful. Your job, as it is, is to look at laws (nature, physics, etc) and poke at them with electrodes to see what happens. Your focus will always be on things that haven’t been written down yet, as opposed to what already has. It’s almost literally impossible to be Lawful and Izzet for that reason alone. As far as Good, Evil, and Neutral go; that’s up to the individual. This experiment could replicate food so we never have to eat Golgari rations again! Or it could replicate essential personnel to prevent understaffing! Or, it could even replicate.... ME (cue maniacal laughter).

Orzhov Syndicate: Lawful

The Orzhov, like the Azorius, draw their power and influence from the laws of Ravnica. Evil is expected, though not mandatory, but Lawful is a requirement. An Orzhov who doesn’t know their way around Ravnica’s laws is a loose end, and the Orzhov don’t allow loose ends to jeopardize their schemes & ambitions. One can absolutely be a Lawful Neutral Orzhov, also known as an Accountant, but such individuals rarely find their way into a life of adventure. A Lawful Good Orzhov can exist, but your greatest adversary will be the large majority of your Guild who sees you as a potential threat to their illicit activities. In which case, you’ll want to know those laws even better than they do.

Cult of Rakdos: Chaotic

Chaos is mandatory, evil is encouraged. By “Evil”, we mean “things people tell you are Evil”. Anything you would do while drunk you should be able to do at all times! There’s really only three rules in the Cult of Rakdos:

Rule #1, Rakdos is #1

Rule #2, JUST DO IT

Rule #3, Don’t be boring

Being Neutral breaks Rule 3, being Good breaks Rule 2 and/or 3, and being Lawful breaks all 3 rules. Which reminds me of the fourth rule:

Rule #4, NEVER break Rule #1

Truthfully, being Chaotic Good or Chaotic Neutral is perfectly fine as long as you don’t impede on someone else’s hedonism without a reason, or lack thereof. As long as you’re being free & crazy, that’s what really matters.

Selesnya Conclave: Good

As stated with Trostani, Selesnya is a pretty consistent force of Good, if nothing else. They don’t really do hate, you know? Life in the Conclave is pretty uniformly Good, so why make trouble? Why can’t everyone just be Good? In short; ‘cause they don’t wanna, none of your business, go hug a tree, and/or because fire is FUN. Lawful fits some individuals but can just get in the way for others. Neutral is pretty solid but some things must call you to act. Chaotic is if you really want to embrace being a Nature Warrior in a planet-sized cityscape. Selesnya is the Guild for goodie two-shoes, as if that’s a bad thing.

Simic Combine: Any

The Simic Combine is the one Guild that can honestly fall anywhere on the alignment chart. The Guild started out as Doctors, Naturalists, and preservers of life. Now it also operates large-scale bioengineering. You can have a Lawful Good Simic Paladin committed to preserving life and health, a True Neutral Simic Forcemage (Druid) dedicated to living a simple life bolstering plant growth, or a Chaotic Evil Simic Wizard who has decided on everyone’s behalf that flippers and gills are now mandatory. Just like science can be used for great Good, great Evil, or mundane routine, the Simic Combine can turn its experiments to any purpose, depending on the individual. And whereas the Izzet are firmly Chaotic, the Simic have the foresight to think ahead before they try an experiment. You can be anything you want in the Simic Combine, just plan it out.

[rabbitcruiser]

Chrysler Building (No. 2)

The Chrysler Building is considered a leading example of Art Deco architecture. It is constructed of a steel frame in-filled with masonry, with areas of decorative metal cladding. The structure contains 3,862 exterior windows. Approximately fifty metal ornaments protrude at the building's corners on five floors reminiscent of gargoyles on Gothic cathedrals.The 31st-floor contains gargoyles and replicas of the 1929 Chrysler radiator caps, the 61st eagles, a nod to America's national bird. 

The Chrysler Building uses bright "Nirosta" stainless steel extensively in its design, an austenitic alloy developed in Germany by Krupp (a German acronym for nichtrostender Stahl, meaning "non-rusting steel"). It was the first use of this "18-8 stainless steel" in an American project, composed of 18% chromium and 8% nickel. Nirosta was used in the exterior ornaments, the window frames, the crown, and the needle. The steel was an integral part of Van Alen's design, as E.E. Thum explains: "The use of permanently bright metal was of greatest aid in the carrying of rising lines and the diminishing circular forms in the roof treatment, so as to accentuate the gradual upward swing until it literally dissolves into the sky...." Stainless steel producers used the Chrysler Building to evaluate the durability of the product in architecture. In 1929, the American Society for Testing Materials created an inspection committee to study its performance, which regarded the Chrysler Building as the best location to do so; a subcommittee examined the building's panels every five years until 1960, when the inspections were canceled because the panels had shown minimal deterioration.

The Chrysler Building's height and legally mandated setbacks influenced Van Alen in his design. The walls of the lowermost sixteen floors rise directly from the sidewalk property lines, except for a recess on one side that gives the building a "U"-shaped floor plan above the fourth floor. There are setbacks on floors 16, 18, 23, 28, and 31, making the building compliant with the Zoning Law of 1916. This gives the building the appearance of a ziggurat on one side and a U-shaped palazzo on the other. Above the 31st floor, there are no more setbacks until the 60th floor, above which the structure is funneled into a Maltese cross shape that "blends the square shaft to the finial", according to author and photographer Cervin Robinson. 

The floor plans of the first sixteen floors were made as large as possible to optimize the amount of rental space nearest ground level, which was seen as most desirable. The U-shaped cut above the fourth floor served as a shaft for air flow and illumination. The area between floors 28 and 31 added "visual interest to the middle of the building, preventing it from being dominated by the heavy detail of the lower floors and the eye-catching design of the finial. They provide a base to the column of the tower, effecting a transition between the blocky lower stories and the lofty shaft."

The ground floor exterior is covered in polished black granite from Shastone, while the three floors above it are done in white marble from Georgia. There are two main entrances, on Lexington Avenue and on 42nd Street, each three floors high with Shastone granite surrounding each proscenium-shaped entryway. At some distance into each main entryway, there are revolving doors located "beneath intricately patterned metal and glass screens", designed so as to embody the Art Deco tenet of amplifying the entrance's visual impact. A smaller side entrance on 43rd Street is only one story high. There are storefronts consisting of large Nirosta-steel-framed windows at ground level, with office windows on the second through fourth floors. 

The west and east elevations of the building contain the air shafts above the fourth floor, while the north and south sides contain the receding setbacks. Below the 16th floor, the facade is clad with white brick interrupted by white-marble bands in a manner similar to a basket weaving. The windows, arranged in grids, do not have window sills, the frames being flush with the facade. Between the 16th and 24th floors, the exterior exhibits vertical white brick columns that are separated by windows on each floor. This visual effect is made possible by the presence of aluminum spandrels between the columns of windows on each floor. There are abstract reliefs on the 20th through 22nd-floor spandrels, while the 24th floor contains 9-foot (2.7 m) decorative pineapples. 

Above the third setback, consisting of the 24th through 27th floors, the facade contains horizontal bands and zigzagged gray-and-black brick motifs. Above the fourth setback, between the 27th and 31st floors, the shaft starts to appear.[154] At each corner of the 31st floor, large car-hood ornaments made of Nirosta steel serve as visually striking objects that make the base look larger. These corner extensions help counter a common optical illusion seen in tall buildings with horizontal bands, whose taller floors would normally look larger. The 31st floor also contains a gray and white frieze of hubcaps and fenders, which symbolizes both the Chrysler Corporation and serves as a visual signature of the building's Art Deco design. The bonnet embellishments take the shape of Mercury's winged helmet and resemble hood ornaments installed on Chrysler vehicles at the time. 

The shaft of the tower was designed to emphasize both the horizontal and vertical: each of the tower's four sides contains three columns of windows, each framed by bricks and an unbroken marble pillar that rises along the entirety of each side. The spandrels separating the windows contain "alternating vertical stripes in gray and white brick", while each corner contains horizontal rows of black brick.

Source: Wikipedia

[amydancepants-peralta]

i love your precious heart

(chapter seven of we’re the fortunate ones) ♥️

season seven: i love your precious heart

For the longest time, there was a part of Jake Peralta that genuinely didn’t believe he was deserving of any special kind of love or affection.  Years of rejection; from the revolving doors made up of fathers, step-fathers and short-lived relationships, had led to the once quiet inner voices growing louder - reminding him every chance they could that any state of legitimate happiness simply was not meant for him.

(Dr. Marcia, the therapist he’s been seeing once a fortnight for a close to a year now, has helped him to understand this.)

This New Year’s Eve, standing here on the fire escape that runs along the outside of the apartment he shares with his wife, is not one of those moments.

Their plans for the evening had skewed slightly from their original schedule, partially because Jake had heard the sighs of dejection Amy made when she’d returned yet another ill-fitting dress back into their wardrobe.  Her body is changing in a lot of ways this year - some of them rapidly, others sneaking up on her so slowly it drove her insane - and when he remembered that Amy hadn’t really had the chance to go shopping for a decent range of maternity clothes yet, Jake had moved quickly to devise an alternative plan that seemed both spontaneous and not-at-all-related to a lack of party outfit options.  

Pouring them each a glass of sparkling apple cider (if Amy can’t drink, then Jake can’t drink - and he’s not interested in hearing arguments that suggest otherwise), he had googled events that were happening nearby, found one with fireworks, and with his brilliant detective skills had deduced that their fire escape will face exactly the right direction to watch the show without ever having to leave their house.  And maybe Amy had already been hoping that he would come to the same conclusion, or maybe she was just a really big fan of fire escape parties (he suspects, though, that it is the former) but either way, her dress had been swapped for sweatpants within minutes of Jake’s suggestion, and the relaxation on her face simply made her all the more beautiful.

They’d spent the entire evening rotating between the living room and the tiny space outside that Jake had stocked up with blankets and snacks, talking and laughing as they reminisced the year that was.  There had even been a sweet little slow dance, to a song playing on Jake’s phone as it stayed nestled in his pocket - and it would have been totally romantic, if it hadn’t been interrupted by some dude yarfing onto the street below.   Still, the feeling of holding his wife in his arms, while their baby stayed nestled in-between them, was something that Jake will hold onto forever.  

The breeze has grown colder now, the wind rustling through Jake’s hair as he waits for Amy to return from her seventeenth trip to the bathroom (sadly, not an exaggeration), and as he reaches into the storage box for another blanket for his wife, Jake finds himself looking back on the last few months with a smile.  Even now, there’s a tiny piece of his mind that is still incredulous that she is pregnant - that the two of them are having a baby.  In just four short months, there will be a tiny human that is part Amy, part Jake and wholly them, and he’s never ever been more excited for the future.  

He can still recall the moment it had all changed for the better - when Amy had turned to him with the brightest smile he had ever seen, and nodded her head.  He’d sat beside her on the floor of their bathroom for longer than he’d realised, staring at the plastic stick with it’s stamped lettering and two thin red lines that told him that Amy was pregnant.  His eyes had kept darting from left to right, his brain frantically trying to reassure himself that he was, in fact, reading it all correctly.  That the love of his life was carrying his child, and the world as he knew it was never going to be the same again.  It just … hadn’t made any sense, how easily it had all changed.  Every part of his life involved filling out some sort of paperwork or prior approval or whatever - it was a reality that he merely tolerated, but Amy adored.  But, in the blink of an eye (and a round of admittedly great sex), Jake Peralta was going to be a father.    

Deciding to start trying had been one of the most uncomplicated decisions of his life, and one that he hasn’t reconsidered for a second (it had surprised him at first, how easily it came to him - but that’s the thing about finally being in a secure relationship.  Even the things that terrified him the most, suddenly didn’t seem so bad when he knew Amy would be by his side).  But it had stunned him, how in just one moment, seeing the word pregnant on a little piece of plastic had made him fall in love with something (or someone, really) that he hadn’t even met.  

He had known, in approximately 0.0003 seconds after seeing their daughter for the very first time on the ultrasound screen, that he wouldn’t ever do anything that could hurt her.  That he will fight for her safety and security, with every fibre of his being, until the very last day of his life.  This tiny little shadow on the screen, with it’s echoing heartbeat and what thankfully looked to be Amy’s nose, was now the single-most greatest thing that Jake had ever done: and nothing was ever going to change that.  These past few months have made Jake understand his father even less, and appreciate Amy all the more, if for nothing else than the fact that she’d given Jake a second chance to show just how capable - and deserving - of love he can be.  

Hearing a soft grunt to his left, Jake turns his head in time to see Amy wriggling through the window frame, the swell of her belly turning what used to be an easy move into something that requires a little more finesse.  There’s a soft metallic thud that reverberates towards the empty streets below as both of her slipper covered feet hit the gridded surface, and she grins in triumph before making her way over to Jake.  

“Starting to get over this whole ‘needing to pee every half hour’ thing that I’ve got going on.”

Grinning, Jake leans against the balustrade of their makeshift balcony, ignoring the gentle dig of the metal against his skin.  “I mean, you know my feelings about water, hun.”

Raising an eyebrow, Amy shakes her head in response.  “Hate to tell you this, but all I’ve been drinking today is orange soda - and we both know that’s your genes at play here, Peralta.”  Amy winks at Jake’s responsive wince, cupping his chin in her hand as she pulls him closer for a quick kiss.  “It’s a good thing that I love you, huh?”

“Oh, it’s a very good thing, Ames.”  The best thing ever, actually, that she loves him.  She tells him a lot - even more so since falling pregnant, a side effect that has been hated by absolutely no-one - and every time feels better than the last.  

A car passes them below, the loud music pumping from the speakers and filtering it’s way up to the two of them, and Amy looks down at her sweats, turning to give Jake an apprehensive look.  “What a wild New Year’s Eve we’ve ended up having.  Maybe we should have gone to Terry’s party after all?  I mean, it is the last child free one we’re going to have for a long time.”

Slinging an arm around Amy’s shoulders, Jake pulls her closer to him, smiling as her hand wraps around his waist in a move that is absolutely second nature.  “No way, Ames.  I’ve got my two best girls here with me, and in five minutes I’m going to have the greatest seats in New York as that building over there lets off fireworks from their roof.  Terry’s party can suck it.”  

Right now, a bunch of fugitives could climb out from the sewer clutching diamonds from the biggest jeweller in town, and he wouldn’t move.  Bruce Willis himself could knock on the door, and Jake would tell him that he needed to come back tomorrow (please, please, please - come back tomorrow).  

This was his home - he’d built a world between these four walls, with the love of his life - the only one to run a hand over his scars, both physical and mental, and still call him beautiful.  His partner, in every way imaginable, and easily the greatest person he’s ever known.  And just when he didn’t think she could be any more magic, she’d begun carrying their child, and now he is absolutely certain that Amy is completely made of stardust.  

Even when her hormones are out of control, and she’s yelling at him for not mixing enough pickles into her ice cream.

There was nowhere he’d rather be, and nobody he’d rather be with.  Literally everything he needed, for the rest of his life, was right here in his arms.  

(Okay yes, technically he would eventually need orange soda and gummy worms and maybe some water if Amy insisted.  But there was a healthy stock of all that in their kitchen, and by ‘right here’ he obviously means their apartment.)

Amy hums - this sweet little hmmming sound that Jake knows to mean contentment ever since he heard it on their first night together, a sound that he’s heard a million times since then and just never, ever fails to transcend him - and she leans a little more of her body weight against him, blinking slowly as fatigue begins to set in.  There were countless books and testimonials that told them to get as much sleep as they could, because once the baby came sleep would become a long-lost memory, and Jake could tell that Amy was secretly dying to curl up into bed.  Baby-growing, it would seem, was a highly exhaustive task - and in all honesty the idea of curling up underneath the blanket with her for the rest of the evening sounded kind of amazing.   

Jake’s just about to suggest a retreat to their bedroom when he hears the first whoosh of a firework streaking through the sky, the subsequent explosion of light piercing his eyes as tiny blue stars litter their previously dark canvas.  Either the revellers had decided to celebrate early, or his watch was slow (entirely possible, he’d bought it for three whole dollars at their local bodega) - whatever the reason, Jake cannot help the smile that stretches across his face as more colours begin to light the sky.  

Now completely awake, Amy moves closer still to Jake, standing in front of him and gripping his forearms in her hands when they wrap around her clavicle.  From behind Jake can hear her tiny gasps as each bang and pop takes place, and after a minute he cries out in surprise, moving quickly to place his hands on either side of Amy’s pregnant belly in a protective stance.

Shifting her head to the side, Amy looks at Jake in confusion, pointing downwards.  “What’s with the sudden coverage, babe?”

Eyes wide and earnest, Jake nods in the direction of his hands, explaining - “I’ve got to protect the baby’s ears, Ames!  These fireworks are loud - and what if she’s asleep right now?  She’s part Peralta, and you and I both know Peraltas are NOT a fan of being woken up.”

Amy laughs, her nose crinkling up in that completely adorable way that Jake absolutely loves, shaking her head as her fingers link with his on either side of her bump.  “Our baby is totally fine in there, Jake.  But I love you so much for thinking of her right now.”  There’s a slight shift underneath Jake’s hands, and he can’t be sure if it’s a kick of just a general nudge from their daughter, but either way he takes it as a sign that their little one agrees with Amy’s statement.  Nodding; he smiles at Amy, suddenly feeling a little foolish - but perhaps, he’s just foolishly in love.  Above them, the fireworks continue to explode, only now they don’t seem so loud.

Moving one hand away from his, Amy cups the back of Jake’s neck, gently pulling him downwards for a soft kiss.  “Only five months in, and you’re already the greatest dad ever,” she whispers against his lips, pressing against them with her own once more.  He’s blushing by the time she pulls away, he can feel it in the sudden tingle of his cheeks, but all he can think about is the title greatest dad ever, and how much he can’t wait until those very words are emblazoned on a mug or some other kind of gift their child decides to buy him.  He wants it on hats, and shirts, on socks and a keyring and everywhere in between - because when it came to Jake and fatherhood, there was not a chance in hell that history was going to end up repeating.        

“Hey,” came Amy’s soft voice, pulling Jake out of his thoughts as her fingers return to the back of his neck and toy with the curls that live along the bottom of his hairline.  Briefly, he remembers that he meant to get his hair cut two weeks ago.  “You okay, babe?”

Taking a deep breath, Jake smiles and nods, waiting until Amy has turned to face him completely before tucking a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.  “Happy New Year, Ames.  I know I’ve said this before, but this year is going to be totally amazing.”

Amy nods back, giggling as Jake swoops in for a kiss.  “I’m going to remember this moment when we’re elbow deep in dirty diapers and our eyelids are being held up by toothpicks.”

Joining in on Amy’s laughter, Jake shrugs his shoulders in defeat.  “This is probably going to sound insane, and I’m definitely going to deny I ever said this when we’re in that situation; but even that sounds a little bit awesome, because it’ll mean that she’s here and we can hold her and talk to her and just love her for reals.”

“Totally insane, and I completely agree.”

It’s less than an hour later that both Jake and Amy are tucked into bed, the sound of Amy’s gentle snores lulling Jake to sleep as 2020 begins to stretch her limbs.  Their apartment is quiet, but filled to the brim with love - right down to the printed sonogram, sharing the space of a heart-shaped magnet with a photo of a young couple falling for each other - and there is a small room adjacent to the kitchen that is almost ready for it’s tiny occupant to arrive.  

As his eyelids grow heavy, Jake thinks back to all the years he and Amy had spent together, and how many times they’ve had to push back against all the things that have tried to keep them apart.  He knows now that it was worth it - all of it was worth it - because truly, the best was yet to come.  

[amityax]

Exampletron: The Tutorial Character!

Name: Exampletron

Age: 100 Vorns (About 8,330 Earth years)

Place of Origin: Cybertron, Pious Pools, Middle District

Alignment: Lawful Good

Religion: Agnostic (Ironically, despite teaching classes on Religion, he’s never thought about it)

Gender: Male Leaning, He/Him, 3 on a binary scale of 1 to 10, 10 being female presenting and 1 being male presenting.

Altmode: Projector

Faction: Strongly Neutral

Defining Quote: “Teaching the next generation is the greatest privilege a bot could ask for.”

Physical Description: About 5 Meters Tall, Padded Shoulders, Blue paint with green accents, blue optics, and helm fins that have a paperclip-like pattern on them. They are built Lightly, but are not frail. Small in appearance, but not a mini-bot or a mini-con.

Outstanding Physical Features: They’ve got big feet, and they’ve got small, decorational kibble wings on their back.

Favorite Thing: History, Wooden Rulers (the texture is so… interesting!)

Least Favorite Thing: Exclusionary Policies, Bad Teachers

Inventory: Caries no weapons. Has at least one ruler and one extra hand-held clock at all times. Laminated samples of things. A puzzle cube. A Personal Data Pad and a Work Data Pad.

Functionalist Class: Delta, Disposable Class

Job: An Academy Teaching Assistant and Part-Time Unofficial Tutor For The Newly Forged

Stats: Strength: 2, Dexterity: 4, Constitution: 3, Intelligence: 8, Wisdom: 5, Charisma: 8

Skills/Proficiencies: Proficient in History, Religion, Investigation, Insight, and Performance. Has a vast information base of most teachable subjects. He is a very charming person, albeit mostly unintentionally. It’s why the Academy lets him get away with stuff. Proficient in being loved. :)

Weaknesses: Low Insight, Intimidation, Deception, Athletics. Not very strong, not very hardy. Could not hold himself in a fight. He’s not a pacifist, he just couldn’t conceive the idea of getting into a physical fight with anyone, and therefore has never thought about it. In the only thing he has situational insight into is the minds and emotions of students. Sympathetic and perceptive of their needs, but his low situational awareness of everything else combined with his sheltered nature (he was raised in Pious Academy, basically), leave him vulnerable to malicious manipulation and the danger he unknowingly puts himself in when he strives for lawful change.

Personality/Character Description: A kind, jovial, knowledge-loving bot. He loves to teach students, and constantly expresses his gladness when he is able to do so, even though he is often relegated to being a board projector for others. He wants to pass on knowledge from himself to the next generation, and has a fondness for history in particular. Wants to teach so badly, he often gets himself in trouble. He has a good mind, and tries to follow the rules as best he can, but when it came to keeping himself out of social/legal trouble, he had heart where he should have had brains. He has trouble keeping his cool when assisting bad teachers who either butcher the material and/or are cruel to students. Honestly, is a bit oblivious to the corrupted state of society, and is unaware of the danger he is in by semi-unknowingly defying the norm.

Outstanding Non-Physical Traits of Character: An Incredible Memory and love of learning. Definitely more so than your average person, or even your average teacher. Very kind, and prioritizes his students' welfare above all else.

Goals: Wants to become a teacher. Wants to teach a history class. Wants to improve his students’ quality of life by improving society as a whole. Also pushed for peaceful, legal educational reform on Cybertron. He wanted to make teacher credentials available to anyone who could pass certain tests instead of building people to be teachers and throwing them into a teaching/tutoring career whether they liked it or not. He also pushed for the creation of “On The Grid” classes, which are basically online classes that can be taken anywhere, and more importantly, by anyone (which for a functionalist government trying to limit which types of people could and could not receive and education, was quite a problem).

Accomplishments: He once taught a long-running Intro To Pre-History course before being outed. Had the highest success and proficiency scores of any other teacher in the school. He is very proud of the quality of his historical evidence and analysis. He can and will name several “students of his” who became very successful researcher/educators of their own; Daybreak, Vertical Shift, Imperial, Nautical… he set up a few “Grid Classes,” but they were taken down by the government after “potential terrorist sympathizers” began to access them.

Failures: He was “barred” from his unlicensed teaching after the government put pressure on the academy to be “up to code.” He was devastated. He never got the majority of his reforms pushed through, and not many people cared about his cause; either they were uninterested in change, or his concerns were to “niche.” He's terrified of letting his students down.

Backstory: He has worked at Pious Academy since it was open. He was literally sparked for his job. Serving as a projector for other teachers to display things on by day and scouring the library by night, he listened in on so many lectures, and knew the school so well, he became the formats expert on all things going on. He was inspired by one kind professor who only taught one year at the school before leaving to follow his heart and pass on his vast array of knowledge on to the next generation. His light and charming personality endeared him to the management staff, and allowed him to do additional work, despite his Disposable Class. There was one point where he was teaching classes on his own thanks to his vast array of data and his sheer seniority, until some spoiled prick of a student found out his Frame Type and tattled (*Cough* Sentinel). The Academy is now very careful to keep Exampletron on a leash, for fear of governmental retribution.

Character’s Opinion: Exampletron believes that he needs to do what it takes to get his right to teach back by changing the education system such that knowledge and learning have the most priority in a school setting, putting aside all Classism for it’s sake. He pushed for reforms, and patiently waits for his letters, inquiries, pamphlets, and essays to be reviewed and discussed upon (they never are, but he keeps trying). He’s not a “revolutionary” per say, he thinks everything he’s trying to get done is obvious to everyone, it’s just no one’s bothered to address it yet, is all.

Philosophy: The students, their education, and their quality of life is the most important thing. Hands down. Exampletron thinks that knowledge, history, literature, and culture is all beautiful, and that everyone should have the chance to appreciate it. Teaching is the most rewarding experience there is, and watching your students become better is and should be the goal, always.

Friends With: Several of the staff, administrators, and students of Pious Academy. Doesn’t know anyone else, really.

Platonically Dislikes: One student who always purposely spills oil on his Projector Form, even after Oil consumables were banned from the classroom. What’s with that guy, anyway?

Admires/Looks Up To: Alpha Trion. He’s never seen them in person (obviously), but he is All Over historical accounts of his actions and his records. (It's like having a crush on a historical figure, but that historical figure is still very much alive and it’s awkward as hell for everyone involved.)

Mentor To: Specifically, Hardlight, and aspiring writer in the Architecture History class he assists in. He tutors her on the down-low about the Quintesseons and Age of Wrath, as that’s where her book is set.

General Enemies With: The assistant dean, Whippersnap. They’re always cruel and mocking after one of Exampletron’s attempts to get change or teach a class on the sly goes awry.

Best Friend/Amica Endure: A teacher named Inquiry. They’re not Amica or anything, but they’re still really good friends. Inquiry always asks for Exampletron’s opinion during his geography class.

Romantic Interest: Again, it’s Inquiry. He’s just not sure how to bring it up…

Hate Crush: Uh,,, no one, really? He is Black Aromantic. He doesn’t enjoy hating people, really, but understands that others find this form of romance attractive and/or cathartic.

Arch Nemesis/Mortal Enemy: Trunchable from down the hall. She is THE WORST teacher OF ALL TIME. NO knowledge of subject matter, downright CRUEL to the students AND the other staff. She enjoys cruel and unusual punishment for even the smallest of slights. She once forced another teacher to eat an entire full-sized oil-cake in a teacher’s meeting for stealing her slice of cake from the work fridge, and the teacher got so sick they had to go to the hospital to get their tanks pumped. No one can tell her off or fire her because she’s the daughter of some high ranking official, and to make matters WORSE she teaches THE NEW FORGES. UGH!!!! He doesn’t like hating people, but she forces his platonic hand!

Peacemaker For: Many, many, many student pairs (and one teacher pair). Study groups can be quite challenging when you have to play Peacemaker for not one, not two, but four intensely Black-waxing couples all at the same time. That was a trying semester for Exampletron. The teacher pair is the only one he enjoys Peacekeeping. Young bots, as a rule, are hell to Mediate, even for Exampletron.

Peacemade By: Honeytrap, an assistant dean, mediates Exampletron and Trunchable, basically whenever they’re in the same room. It is a platonic Mediation, but so what? It’s the closest thing you can get with Exampletron.

Author’s Plans/Goals For Character: Exampletron tries to set up a Grid Class at the wrong time in the wrong place, and sends one to many letters to his local senator, and he gets placed on the Government’s long, long shit list. Ironically, Exampletron’s knowledge of history didn’t allow him to realize it was repeating itself, nor save him of his corrupt overlords and the lengths they would go to keep their power. At the end of the Golden Age, during the terror and confusion of the Dreaded Rust Plague, Exampletron, among many other political dissenters of the Prime, both private citizens and public politicians, are kidnapped from their homes and forced through space bridges en-mass to random colony locations. And then, to quarantine off the planet, Sentinel makes the decision to permanently deactivate the space bridges. What timing, amiright? Exampletron lands on Caminus and not one of the infected colonies, thankfully. He didn’t achieve his goal of reforming Cybertron’s education system, but at least the Camiens let him get a job as a history teacher the way he always wanted! He still misses his old students, though (and Inquiry).

[bruciewayne]

fall from grace

percy jackson au, stevetony, getting together/ ill-advised one-night-stands, 3k

for ‘percy jackson au’ on @iron-man-bingo

--

Tony winces as the bunker explodes. Not all of it, just a section. Fury wasn’t going to be happy. All he hopes is that he doesn’t have to be on introductions. He likes Camp Half-Blood, okay, loves it, he used to be a year-rounder, now he’s just here when college is out, he’s been here longer than he hasn’t, and it’s fucking fantastic.

But he hates doing introductions. Or worse, finding. 

He’s not even particularly anti-social (when he’s not knee-deep in a project), there’s just something about brand-new demigods, having to explain everything over and over, that he hates. He’s not a person of great patience. Finding demigods is just a pain, especially if it’s one of the stronger ones, who aren’t even meant to exist in the first place, but when have the gods played by their own rules. Finding demigods means fighting monsters, it means weeks, months if they were one of the unlucky ones, in motels, following a trail of destruction to a volatile, hurting, kid.

Now, most would consider Tony to be fairly decent at finding (whenever he’s done introductions they’ve never really gone well, partly because Tony just attempted to make an interactive dictionary to get it over and done with, partly because the kid was a dick. From then on, he very, very rarely gets to do introductions, literally only if he’s the only experienced camper left.), but Tony just dislikes it. Greatly. He likes the chase, he likes solving problems and making things to solve the problems, the only thing he really has a problem with (because motels were like unhygienic sleepovers when with the right person and even the fighting gave him an adrenaline rush that usually could power him through a couple days in the bunker without any other sustenance) is dealing with the actual kid.

All the ones that he’d found were angry, and sad, and Tony never really knew how to deal with that - all he has to do is keep it civil and keep them calm until they reach Camp, but every damn time it was hard.

As he predicted (not literally) Fury storms into the bunker, fuming, mere minutes after the explosion.

“Everything’s controlled, it was meant to happen,” Tony says, the moment he enters.

“Stark.” It was the Tone. The very particular, very specific Tone to his voice that meant ‘you are going to be doing what I tell you with no complaints or I will put you on horse clean up for the rest of your years on this earth’. The Tone usually came with a demigod to go on a wild goose chase after.

“No, Nick, c’ mon,” Tony pleads. 

Fury doesn’t change his expression in the slightest, and Tony’s pleas are met with a stony silence and a couple sheets of paper are shoved in his singed arms. 

“0800, at the border, you’re going with Natasha,” he says, final, as he spins on his heel and leaves.

“Could just say 8 AM like a normal person,” Tony mutters under his breath. He gets a twig thrown at him.

Tony carries on grumbling as he sets about tidying the bunker as best he can while the smoke clears out. Whoever built this really wasn’t thinking with ventilation in mind. Ancient assholes.

Almost, as if someone’s listening to his thoughts (or maybe he’s just talking aloud again) lighting cracks outside. It’s the middle of July. And Thor (the kid, not the god), their resident lightning expert, is over at Camp Jupiter for the week. 

“Ancient assholes!” Tony yells.

This time, the lightning strikes directly on top of the bunker.

By the time he’s done, he’s almost missed dinner.

“Ah!” Clint says, when he sees him walk into the pavillion, “The prodigal son returns!”

“Fuck off, Arrow-Boy,” Tony grumbles, stuffing fries into his mouth. He’s way more hungry than he thought.

“Tin can,” Clint retorts, flicking a pizza crust at him. 

Tony pulls a face at him, grumpily.

“Don’t mind him,” Natasha says, materialising behind them, making Clint jump and spill his orangeade, “he’s cranky because we have to go find a demigod tomorrow.”

“I’m not cranky,” Tony says, just about resisting the temptation to cross his arms and scowl.

“Go take a nap, tin can,” Clint says, patting him on the shoulder.

After he finishes his dinner, he does just that, after, setting everything up for tomorrow - he stuffs a backpack (one that he made, the one that’s bigger than it looks) with everything he’ll need for a week and goes over the information - any satyrs who’ve tried looking for him failed and every time someone tries to bring him back he escapes and drops right off the grid.

One of the things that surprised him about this guy (they have a name, age range, known aliases, and a couple sketches) is that a wake of good follows him, not destruction, but insurmountable, impossible, miracle good. Although, there is a tiny trail of anticapitalism following him as well. A series of alarmingly good thefts that followed him across the country alongside great donations and a sudden dip in youth homelessness and a surge of college graduates from the working class over the year.

So. 

Good. Too good. Good enough to drop of Interpol radar and on to theirs. (There’s an arrangement. Tony doesn’t want to know.)

If he doesn’t get him, then he gets passed over to the Romans, if they don’t then the Norse lot have a shot, then it gets handed over to the East, and after all of them, finally, the big lads will step in. 

They’ve only ever gone up to the chain to the Norse (all incredibly strange, but then again, his father is a god, so, strange flew out the window on his fifth birthday, upon the realisation that Elon Musk is his half-brother - about a week after he went to Camp). Who decided the chain, Tony doesn’t know, but it is what it is. Meaning they get all the grunt work. He doesn’t mind it much because it results in the people up top thinking that they’re hot shit. (When they bother to take a look down, of course).

All Tony knows, looking at the information sheet and his ‘greatest hits’, is that this guy, Steven G. Rogers, is going to be an interesting person. Demigod. Robin Hood. Whatever.

-

The sketches never told Tony how hot the guy is. And he’s hot. Like, 10/10 would let him leave him on read, hot. He has this whole ‘vigilante/guy on the run’ look going on, slightly too-long hair that’s somehow the perfect length and a beard. Which is just unfair, because he’s about the same age as Tony, and Tony can’t grow anything properly - he attempted, one time, and all he got was people telling him that he has chocolate milk on his top lip. 

The age thing threw Tony for a loop, because there’s this guy, college age, still not at Camp, who’s made Forbes 400 his personal hit list, and succeeded, alongside with what he does with the money and with how long he’s managed to evade them, there’s something, okay, many things, that, for the first time, make Tony feel out of his depth.

But he’s always up for a challenge.

And by gods, has it been challenging. They’re about a week into this, they’ve followed him all across New York (he seems reluctant to leave) and they’ve only seen him once, in a back alley with some masked guy. Tony checked up later and that masked guy was one of theirs, Murdock, son of Nemesis. He refused to tell them anything about the guy, aside from ‘Leave him alone’.

Right now, they’re in a motel in Brooklyn, talking with Fury.

“Stark, Romanoff, get him,” is all he says, breaking the mist. Helpful. Although, Tony should know by now that a ‘Hey, this guy is like, stupid good, and even Murdock told us to leave him alone’ never worked. He’s starting to miss his smoke-filled bunker. Knowing his luck, and Clint’s dickheadedness, he’s blocked what ventilation there is in the bunker and shut the door.

Tony turns to Natasha to ask her to give him the remote - he’s bored, and Robin Hood’s nowhere to be seen, and it’s late, maybe there’s a good movie on - but he’s interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Room service.”

They’re on their feet in an instant, Tony’s slipped his gauntlet on (something a part of a bigger project - the reason there was a small incident in his bunker) and Natasha’s holding her knife, ready to strike, in front of Tony.

“I don’t remember ordering anything,” Natasha calls deliberately loud, eyes trained on the door. 

“What about a demigod” 

The guy says ‘demigod’ like it’s an insult, in a sneer, almost mocking them.

He could have the guy they want, demand ransom for him, maybe, or lead them to him. 

Tony taps an ‘O’ in Morse code, and Natasha nods her agreement, never looking away from the door. She goes over, feet light and opens the door an inch, knife first, before swinging it fully open to reveal Steven G. Rogers.

“You’ll need something stronger,” he says, nodding to the knife, “and take longer next time, maybe the Romans’ll get me.” He leans casually against the doorjamb, and Tony’s gay enough to admit that even that action is hot. So is that little teasing smile.

He is not falling for some vigilante guy he doesn’t even know the middle name of. He’s merely appreciating his assets. His very, very attractive assets.

“You need to come back to--” Natasha starts, ignoring the jibe about her knife, yes it’s small, but it’s poisoned with eitr (they had a bet with Quill’s crew, one of the Norse, Gamora bet her knife and lost it to Nat), which will easily put a human, and a demigod to death.

“Camp Half-Blood,” Rogers says, tiredly. So he knows that he’s a demigod and that Camp Half-Blood exists, he’s definitely heard this before and he’s turning out to be even more interesting, so Tony jumps in.

“Good deduction, Rogers, now come to Camp.”

He fakes thinking for a minute, and then decides, “Nah,” and before Natasha or Tony can protest he adds something more, “I’m tired and bored of your lot chasing me, both of us have better things to do. You stop going after me. Understood.” He draws himself up to his full height and drops the smile, towering over them.

Neither of them are scared, they’re both small, and they’ve been trained to use that to their advantage, and they’ve been training at Camp since before most kids would be in the first grade, Tony’s been told that overconfidence is his ‘fatal flaw’ (amongst other things), but it’s two against one, and that one has none of the training, nor teamwork that they have. He has strength, he very, very clearly has strength, but other than that, he’s a blank canvas.

“You’re coming with us,” Natasha says, faux gently, they’ve dealt with people like this before. Angry, ‘the world has wronged me’ types, who put up a fight. Tony glad he remembered to take the tranqs this time. 

“Oh, for fucks’ sake,” Rogers groans, “no means no, asshole.”

“Can’t take no for an answer,” Natasha says, shifting her stance into the offensive.

Rogers has the audacity to roll his eyes, “Then learn basic consent.”

He makes the mistake of turning around - put your back to Nat when you’re not on the same side, be prepared for something become incredibly friendly with your lats and your trapezius (Tony speaks from experience).

She jumps up onto his back, ready to knock him out with the flat of the blade - Tony’s seen this a million times before, so he prepared himself for an unconscious demigod, but it goes in vain.

Before he knows what’s going on Natasha’s lying flat on her back with Rogers’ foot on her stomach, the knife is in Rogers’ hand, pointed at him. He raises the gauntlet on instinct.

“Go home, tell him I got away,” he speaks with an entirely authoritative voice that definitely does not go straight to Tony’s dick. He’s willing to bet that Rogers is a child of Aphrodite.

He tosses the knife on one of the beds and walks out.

Tony chases him out, instinctively, and almost crashes into him outside. Rogers gives him a look and before he knows it, he’s kissing him in a wild clash of lips and tongues. He’s shoved against the wall as Rogers noses down his neck.

“Rogers,” Tony breaths tilting his head back.

“We’re gettin’ friendly. Steve’ll do.”

“Steve, Steve--”

“You want me to stop?” Rogers-- Steve asks, with a teasing roll of his hips against Tony’s hardening cock.

“Fuck no,” Tony groans, “but I gotta know, why?” He’d like to state, for the record, that he is never this easy; usually, it takes much more than a rough kiss and manhandling to get him like this, but Steve knows what he’s doing.

“Why?” Steve murmurs against his neck, “You’re hot, and you’ve been eye-fucking me the moment I walked in.” He pulls away suddenly, “You’ve done this before, right?”

Tony grins, lewd, “Sure, I’d prove it, but on top of everything, I don’t want a public indecency charge as well.”

Steve’s eyes darken and he drags them into his room - the one next to Natasha and Tony’s. 

Tony proves just how non-virginal he is and Steve returns the favour, and Tony really, really wasn’t wrong in his first assessment of ‘knows what he’s doing’.

“That might have been,” Tony pants, trying to catch his breath, “the best orgasm of my life.”

Steve laughs and presses an absent-minded kiss to his shoulder, then trails his lips up to tease at the hickey he left earlier. “I get that a lot,” he murmurs, grinning up at Tony.

“From everyone, or am I just special?”

Steve seems to realise what he’s really asking, because he chuckles again, “You’re the only one of Fury’s minions I’ve slept with.”

Tony grins. He’s never had this much fun, outside of the sex, with a hookup before. “Well, you’re the only demigod I’ve fucked, period.” Even though godly relations counted for jackshit, he’s never slept with anyone at Camp. He’s not even sure if you’re allowed to have sex there.

“I don’t recall you doing much fucking,” Steve says, smirking.

Tony, ever the pinnacle of maturity, just mimics him, far too tired to think of something clever. He lets his eyes fall shut, comfortable in Steve’s arms.

When he wakes up, he’s alone, with a note and a flip phone left on the pillow where Steve was.

The phone’s demigod-proofed, call, text, if you ever want a real fuck - SR

-

“We lost him, got away right under our noses, but we do have a way to contact him,” Tony says to Fury when they get back. He knows that he should hand over the phone, but that feels like he’s breaking Steve’s trust.

“The phone, Stark.”

“Through me, you talk to him through me,” Tony insists. Steve’s not coming to Camp for a reason, and he trusts him not to drag him back, so Tony feels an urge to protect him, even though he’s proven more than competent at that.

Fury knows what battles to pick, so leaves him, with a reminder to get some rest.

Maybe he doesn’t hate finding that much.

-

They don’t try to chase him after that, but Tony still meets up with him, sometimes it takes him a week to respond, sometimes he’s out of the country, but he always replies. They don’t even have sex immediately the first time Tony texts him, they just hang out in a diner in Queen. Then they fuck for real, on some billionaire’s bed, because Steve’s just like that and it tops last time.

It takes Tony repeating a constant mantra of ‘he’s a thief and fairly shifty and what they have is strictly friends-with-benefits’ to slow down falling in love with him, but it seems sort of inevitable in the end. He’s entirely in love with the way he smiles and laughs and fucks and every single part of him, Tony’s so damn, overwhelmingly in love, he knows that he’s going to tell him, today, about a year into what they have. It’s not unrequited, if the looks Steve gives him is anything to go by. 

They’re sitting in a bandstand in a park near Camp, the closest Steve’ll get to it. He’s still the same, he’s still one bad fashion choice from ‘cryptid’, still Robin-Hoods-ing in his free time, but he’s shaved off the beard - the very first time, he’d tentatively asked Tony to do it. 

Tony’s learnt that he’s also an artist, that he used to be in the army, that he has a weird and shitty relationship with his parents, and even though there’s still a lot that he doesn’t know about him, all that changes a view on someone.

They’ve both long accepted that what they have can barely be classed as ‘friends-with-benefits’ now, in some unspoken agreement one early morning, this time in Steve’s apartment when they were lying in bed, half-awake together.

Tony leans in to kiss Steve, ready to tell him, so damn ready that it feels like it’s going to burst out of his mouth all by itself when a thunderstorm starts.

Steve groans and drops his head on to Tony’s shoulder. It’s adorable, seeing this six-foot man try make himself small enough to fit in Tony. They make it work. 

Steve stretches out an arm and flips off the sky. The sky sends a truly unnatural amount of lighting into the tree next to them.

This time, he yells a ‘fuck you’, loud and clear, before kissing Tony, deeply, swallowing his giggles.

When they pull away, Steve’s grinning, bright and wonderful. He opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted by a well-dressed businessman in a flash of lightning. 

Now, Tony’s only ever met his dad, Hephestus, and Apollo, and they were nowhere near this dramatic. Or well dressed. Or this important.

Steve just rolls his eyes at their untimely interruption, but there’s something under the annoyance, something akin to fear that puts Tony on edge. “Fuck off.”

“Now,” Zeus says, “is that any way to greet your father, Heracles?”

-

iron man bingo masterpost

tell me what you thought?

[blackcatmanor]

RWBY Vol. 7 Ep 8 Photo Review (Repost)

Tumblr decided to delete the actual post or something. I don’t know. I’m old man yelling at cloud right now. SPOILERS below 

Characters done right.

Winter is QUEEN this episode. Winter’s line about “You’d have to pay me” to smile was great, and I liked her losing her cool and explaining to Penny it’s because of the bad memories in her house. I wish they explored this more, like in a flashback to Winter and Weiss’ childhood. That would have been great, and given a lot of set up into the toxic pool of despair they were both about to go back into. It was interesting her scene with Penny because it created a good juxtaposition from a human who WANTS to be less emotional and robotic, and a Robot that wants to be a human. *cute and tragic vibes intensifies*. It made me weirdly hope for more interactions between Winter and Penny- in which they help each other find a balance between humanity and a sense of duty.

 Willow- I am so glad we got to see her. Though it started odd, like she was a total delirious, foggy drunk who forgot her daughter left, and suddenly she becomes super lucid but morose. The tone shift was weird but besides the first few seconds it was great. A lot was conveyed about her- that she’s fearful for her safety, she’s morose, but still cares greatly for her children. The deeper explanation of her putting cameras around could have again been serviced by a Schnee family flashback. Jacques was an authoritarian and awful parent, but not abusive. You can tell this because when Weiss was slapped in volume 4 she was surprised, like it was something that never happened before. However maybe in the past, Willow bore the brunt of Jacques’ authoritarianism, interfering when he was getting too angry towards the kids but causing the physical abuse to be directed towards her instead of her kids. This would explain why she seems concerned for her safety and why she would put cameras around- in case something happened to her there could be a way to bring Jacques to justice.

 Nevertheless, the scene was good. You can really tell Willow cares about her kids and her exposition about Whitley was decent as well. But I have a huge death flag vibe about her….if Jacques finds out she’s been spying on him her greatest fears may come true. #ProtectWillow.

Qrow: I like seeing tidbits about Qrow’s struggle as a recovering alcoholic, though I wish they would talk about it more directly. We haven’t seen him a lot, and maybe he could mention that he’s attending AA type meetings or something. I also desperately wish that Yang and Ruby would address it! They have not directly interacted with Qrow much this volume, especially Yang who hasn’t talked to him since like one line in Vol. 6. I wish they would have a nice family moment where the girls talk about how proud they are to see Qrow overcoming his alcohol issues, and give him a good reason to keep on the path!

  Speaking of Qrow:

SS Gayship:  The trashship vibes are intensifying. Qrow is totally gay for Clover and I am here for it! Okay maybe it’s just friendly and not romantic, but it’s nice to see Qrow have friends. However, seeing how much they playfully interact means that I am going to be PISSED if they just make Clover some sort of double agent and shatter Qrow even more. With Ozpin’s betrayal, his estrangement from his family, his bad luck semblance, I think we have seen Qrow beaten down enough- can we not continually punch this poor character?

 Robyn’s smirk at Winter when she says Jacques can’t buy trust like everything else is great. I am also here for shameless RobynXWinter vibes.

  Characters done wrong:

Klein- RIP. I’m annoyed that they got rid of Klein. Was the voice actor not available? It would have been better to see him being abused by Whitley and Jacques, or maybe relegated to menial work rather than head butler. Seeing the fallout of his actions is more meaningful than just hearing it. Furthermore, it would also pack more of an emotional punch to see Klein being punished for his involvement in Weiss’ breakout, but Klein needs the work so he has to continue working for them in a more menial capacity.

 Whitley- I’ve known for a while they are probably going to have a “rescue Whitley” arc but they’re going about it all wrong. Every discussion with him sucks and is stupid. He’s smarmy and flat as a character, with his only development coming from Willow later. The “revelation” that his façade of arrogance is really because he’s hurt Weiss left him behind in Volume 4 doesn’t make sense, because Whitley was like that before she even left. His façade should come more from fear of his authoritarian, abusive father. Willow should have said something like “he was always trying to be on your dad’s good side, to avoid….well you know. But after you left, I am afraid he may actually be starting to EMBRACE your father’s perspective on life. So please don’t forget about your brother!” Or something like that. The writers and animators continually miss the chance to convey Whitley’s secret desperation as well. They showed one flash of fear in volume 4 and one in volume 7, but when he’s talking to Weiss he should be trying to talk to her in code, or having pain on his face!

 Whitley is also the words worst Gmod player. The only person who can get away with the nonprop T-pose is Jeremy MonsterTruckin’ Dooley 

Story stuff done right:

The little distraction bit to get Weiss away from Whitley was cute and funny. And it was nice to see comedy in a situation that lent itself to comedy. Last week I thought this “dinner” might have been an ambush in disguise, with Jacques luring Ironwood into Watt’s trap, but seeing how it was actually a huge party with News cameras, tons of guests, and the crew without weapons it immediately became clear this dinner was never going to be outright hostile, but instead served as a backdrop for exposition and plot development. To that vein, using it to give a bit of comedy is totally acceptable and breaks up the emotional scenes as well as the politically tense scenes.

I will say, though, I HATE the fat lady character. What’s with the voice? Is it supposed to sound like Ms. Piggy? This was kinda lame but at least Jaune’s slow mo “YESSS” and then their grimace was kinda funny. And it was a nice twist to have her covered in the food, making it seem like the plan failed, only to have the lady throw her drink on Whitley in a fit.

  Faunus discrimination- This volume has been better about building a world that has Faunus discrimination, and the introduction of Marrow has been a big part of that. In this episode, they had one small tidbit with a Faunus guy working as a waiter, literally serving the Humans, but I wish they would have teased out the Faunus discrimination a little more. In this kind of wide setting, with TWO Faunus main characters and a Faunus waiter it would have been a great chance for a few scenes building the culture around Faunus hate.

These are snooty elites so maybe they don’t outright berate the Faunus people, but maybe they try to quickly grab a drink and shoo the Faunus waiter away, or they don’t make eye contact and awkwardly talk AROUND them. Maybe they gawk at Marrow’s tail or Blake’s cat ears before having to be turned away by their friends. Think of how people treat people they are uncomfortable around- homeless, mentally ill, etc. Often people aren’t outright rude to them but reactions can run the gamut from gawking, to awkwardly minimizing interactions, to trying to pretend like they don’t exist. Some of that would be nice, but at least they are taking steps to correct the lack of Faunus hate in previous volumes.

Misery in Mantle. 

There is 1 homeless person shown in the episode, which is a 100% increase than prior episodes. 

  Story stuff done wrong:

So the council is only 3 members? That seems kind of small  for a huge kingdom like Atlas. I wish there was at least 5 members, and we could see them speaking for different regions. Instead it seems like there are three members of the upper crust elite and that’s it.

The insertion of Robyn at the dinner was odd, but it seems like Jacques is trying to butter her up. He commends her “vigor” and when she said the people of Atlas are suffering he says “Quite right.” It seems like he’s trying to use Robyn’s frustration as a way to get her on the Anti-Ironwood team. This would at least make sense of why she is here other than to have her scream in between the conversation. 

What was with the ending? I don’t get it. Watts disables the entire heating grid, which causes the rain to turn to snow in Mantle. Is this bad? Does this mean they are going to freeze to death? Probably? It wasn’t clear. People looked confused about the snow, and the kid seemed excited which makes me think it hasn’t happened before, but they didn’t seemed scared or really concerned.

[katsens-writing]

Meeting the Team

Summary: You’re a SHIELD agent doing some research on your future co-workers... until you run into one of them.

Word Count: 2.1k (give or take a few)

Content: Fluff, maybe a little angst? Let me know if I need to add any!

A/N: This. This thing right here was supposed to be just a simple, short and sweet meet-cute. Three stories and three weeks later, I’m done. This and the second story, Meeting the Agent, are parallel running stories but you should read this one first. The third story is called Meeting the Sergeant. It should be read before or after Meeting the Team and Meeting the Agent. Let me know what you think! I might make more from it...

~

     As soon as you got through security at the museum, you went straight to the exhibit you were looking for. It’d been a while since you had been to the Smithsonian, but you knew the way from memory. You smiled wistfully as you walked past other familiar displays and cases. Weaving through them was like walking down memory lane for you. Finally reaching the exhibit you had come to see, you opened your notebook and pushed the brim of your black baseball cap up with the end of your pencil. You remembered the first time you went to see the Captain America exhibit with your mom. You must have been only four or five then, but you loved it so much that you wanted to go there for every birthday and special occasion. By the time you went to see it on a class trip, all the museum employees in that wing knew you by name. Eventually, you guys moved away when your mom was assigned to an embassy. You hadn’t been there in years when your mom heard from some old work friends back in D.C. that the Smithsonian had added an Avengers exhibit. As soon as she heard, she immediately booked some plane tickets to go see it opening day, as a surprise for your birthday. The second you saw it, your jaw dropped in awe. After walking through it you whipped around and told your mom that you were going to be an Avenger one day. You remembered your mother’s amused expression as you marched off to the Captain America exhibit.

     When you got your acceptance letter from the academy years later, you both jumped up and down screaming and crying. Just a month after that, you said goodbye to your mother and moved back to the States. Two years later, your mother wept in the audience as you walked across the stage to receive your badge from Nick Fury and shake his hand at the SHIELD induction ceremony. When you met her for lunch last week in Prague and told her about your new assignment with the Avengers, you could’ve sworn she was going to pass out. Now here you are in D.C., reading up on your future coworkers. You already knew so much about most of the team, but you wanted to refresh your memory before meeting them.

     You read over the story of Captain America again, even though you practically had it memorized even after all these years. As you walked through his exhibit, your eyes fell on the section dedicated to the Howling Commandos. You remembered hearing talks of the museum restoring the mural of Captain America and the Howling Commandos, so you quickly jotted down a reminder to check it out later before you moved over to the panel about them. You read through the brief articles on display about each of the commandos, for fun more than anything.

     ‘Caporal Jaques “Frenchie” Dernier, France, born January 2, 1911. Explosives and demolitions expert. French resistance.’

     Frenchie? You thought with a smirk. How original.

     ‘Private Gabriel “Gabe” Jones, United States. Born August 14, 1918, in Macon, Georgia. Translator and Communications Specialist. United States Army, 92nd Infantry Division.’

     I remember learning about him in high school. You blinked thoughtfully. I think he was the one that arrested Zola.

     ‘Corporal Jim Morita, United States. Born October 20, 1919, in Fresno, California. Marksman and Medic. United States Army, Nisei Squadron.’

     Brigadier James Montgomery Falsworth, Great Britain. Born January 2, 1914, in Birmingham, England. Tactician and Marksman. British Armed Forces, 3rd Independent Parachute Brigade.

     Huh. He had two kids. You blinked, pleasantly surprised.

     ‘Sergeant Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader “Dum Dum” Dugan’.

     Your eyebrows rose a little and you tried to stifle a laugh but it ended up coming out as a small snort. That’s a mouthful. No wonder he went by Dum Dum Dugan.

     You kept reading. ‘United States, born April 11, 1912. Transport specialist. United States Army, 69th Infantry Regiment.’

     You tilted your head curiously at a series of panels you hadn’t seen before, covered in newspaper articles, headlines, and various official reports. Drawing closer, you realized they were a replacement for the old panel ‘A Fallen Comrade’. You began reading the first panel titled ‘James Buchanan Barnes: War Hero, Winter Soldier, Avenger’. You casually scanned the headlines and titles until one caught your attention. Your eyes widened in shock and you froze as you realized just what exactly you were reading-- you had been there.

     You had been working for SHIELD for almost a year when it fell. You were in the control room when Alexander Pierce ordered the manhunt for Captain America and declared him a fugitive. You were in that same room when Captain America revealed over the P.A. system that Hydra had taken over and you did everything you could to fight back, passively and physically. After the helicarriers were launched, you and your coworkers managed to retake the control room, but it was too late. You contacted the aerial commander and told him to gather all SHIELD pilots. You lowered your head, a wave of guilt washing over you. One of them must have been Hydra. They never made it off the ground. 

     You were literally forced to watch helplessly as Steve fought the Winter Soldier on the helicarrier and your heart stopped when you saw him plummeting to the earth, watching in horror as the fiery wreckage rained down upon him from the sky above. You were five floors below where one of the helicarriers crashed into the building. The impact was bone-shaking and caused your Hydra captor to stumble, allowing you to gain the upper hand. After subduing him, you grabbed his radio. Without hesitation or authority, you took charge and immediately organized and coordinated search and rescue teams. You scattered the teams all over the SHIELD compound, the river, and its banks to look for any survivors, before joining one yourself. Now with SHIELD reforming, you were one of the first agents to return. After having already proven your loyalty, you were an easy choice for your new assignment.

     You shook your head to clear your thoughts. ‘James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, aka the Winter Soldier, possibly the world’s deadliest assassin and Hydra’s greatest weapon and asset.’

     You winced as you read that part. Why did they have to include that? You wondered. He’s not some tank or fighter jet.

     You continued reading. ‘Originally suspected in the terrorist attack on the Sokovia Accords Summit that led to the deaths of many ambassadors and political figures, Barnes was later found to be innocent, another victim of the real culprit, Sokovian nationalist Baron Zemo.’

     Your eyes narrowed as you read exactly how much the article had on the summit bombing. You were one of the few who knew the whole story. After SHIELD had fallen, you went to work for Stark Industries, where you met up once again with Maria Hill. When the news came out naming Barnes as a suspect in the bombing, you were one of those assigned to keep tabs on Steve, though you never found anything... as far as anyone knew. When Maria quietly slipped off the grid without a word to anybody, you were the only one to notice, and you made sure of that by covering her tracks.

     You never really believed that Stark honestly expected you to turn in Steve if you located him, not when he knew your history. He knew how painful it was for you to track Steve and how it reminded you of when Hydra had taken over SHIELD. He knew that for you it felt just as wrong tracking Steve then as it had before, yet he still assigned you to the task. You smiled to yourself, in spite of the painful memories. You would never forget the day when Tony received the call saying everyone had escaped from the Raft; you could hear Ross yelling at him on the phone from two rooms away before Tony sauntered into the main office with a barely concealed grin on his face. He definitely looked far more amused than he should have, considering.

     After you finished reading the new panels, your eyes drifted back to another old one about James. ‘Born in 1917, James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was the oldest of four kids. He lived in Brooklyn where he was an excellent athlete and student. He enlisted in the Army shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor and was assigned to the 107th. His unit was sent to the Italian front where they were captured by Hydra. Separated from his unit, Barnes was starved and tortured...’

     You blinked your eyes and looked away; you knew what happened after that. Your eyes fell on a display of pictures of Captain America, Bucky, and the Howling Commandos. You drifted over to it. Scanning the pictures, you couldn’t help but smile as your eyes fell on one of Steve and Bucky at one of the allied camps. They were standing side by side with lopsided grins, but Barnes looked like he’d just woken up from a nap.

     “Ugh, of all the pictures they had...” you jumped at the sudden voice behind you and spun around to find a man shaking his head, looking down at the ground. “They just had to pick that one.”

     The man lifted his head, revealing his face that had been hidden by the brim of a grey baseball cap, and your eyes fell on a familiar lopsided grin accompanied by a pair of startlingly blue eyes. The man looked a little embarrassed. Your own eyes widened and your mouth opened slightly in surprise.

     “Bucky!” you gasped softly.

     The former assassin just stared at you blankly for a moment. Realizing what you had done, your face reddened in embarrassment. You began to apologize, but Bucky simply waved it off. Shaking his head with a grin, he reassured you.

     “No, it’s ok, really. People just don’t usually recognize me.” His smile faded slowly as his eyes shifted to the notebook in your hands, tilting his head curiously.

     You looked down at the notebook you had forgotten you were holding and quickly pulled it closer to yourself, realizing how you must look. “It's just some research I’m doing for work,” you quickly offered.

     Bucky’s face scrunched in thought before it lit up. “You must be the new SHIELD agent assigned to the compound.”

     “Yeah, I am,” you replied, relaxing a little, but still a bit uneasy.

     “I thought you weren’t due in until next week?” Bucky looked at you, still curious.

     “Well, I wanted to get some research in. I like to learn a bit about who I’m going to be working with,” you shrugged, a little embarrassed but not apologetic. Looking into coworkers was a habit you had formed in the aftermath of SHIELD falling, out of caution and perhaps a little guilt. You had been caught off guard and you vowed you weren’t going to let that happen again.

     “Well that makes sense,” he nodded thoughtfully, almost like he understood what you were thinking. He shook his head lightly and with another lopsided grin, he held out his hand. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes. Or Bucky.”

     You took his hand and shook it, your gaze rising to meet his with the slightest hint of awe. “Y/N. Agent Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

     “Y/N,” Bucky repeated, a smile growing on his face. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

     You lowered your eyes to the notebook in your hand, fidgeting awkwardly. Bucky cleared his throat, almost making you jump again.

     “Well Y/N, if you have any questions, I’d be happy to help. The information here isn’t exactly complete...” his voice trailed off.

     “I noticed,” you replied, glancing to the side at the section about the bombing at the summit. Clearing your throat, you turned back to Bucky. “They don’t really have anything on Black Widow or Hawkeye.” That didn’t really surprise you, after all, what good is a spy with their face on display at one of the world’s busiest museums?

     Bucky arched an eyebrow with only the slightest hesitation. “Well, if you would like, I can fill you in on the team.” He glanced down at his watch then rubbed the back of his neck before completely throwing away caution. “Heck, I can even introduce you to some of them if you want.”

     Bucky looked up at you and grinned again, his eyes shining, and you just couldn’t help the smile spreading on your own face as your shoulders relaxed. “I would appreciate that, thank you.”

     Bucky looked down at his watch again. “Great, I’m meeting Clint- that’s Hawkeye- for lunch in an hour. You’re welcome to come,” he looked up at you and hesitated. “In the meantime, have you seen the Howling Commandos memorabilia exhibit?”

     You nodded. “Yeah, it’s been a while though. Are you sure Clint won’t mind the extra company at lunch?”

     “He’ll get over it,” Bucky replied with a grin and you couldn’t resist a small chuckle. Turning back to the direction of the memorabilia display, Bucky nods his head. “Shall we?”

     With a smile you walked alongside the super soldier, laughing and asking questions as he told stories about the items on display. You may not have learned much about the team like you had wanted to that day, but as it turned out, you learned more than you could have ever hoped.