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kayteewritessteve · 5 years

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If London Should Ring

Description: An elusive Hydra criminal finally comes out of hiding after months. Bringing Steve, Tony, Bucky and Sam to an exclusive weapons expo in London, alongside a rather interesting Secret Intelligence Service (SIS) agent. Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 11,700 ish. Bloody hell! This one got away from me just a bit...this is basically a mini series in a one shot.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG. Warnings: Curse words. Accounts and moments of violence. Mentions of dying and dead Hydra henchmen. And I think that’s it.

Requested: Yes, by the lovely @thedarklightwithinus who wanted a one shot with a British reader. So here it is, I truly hope you enjoy it! And sorry it’s so dang long, I just got super into it and couldn’t stop! ♥️♥️♥️ A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

Fury enters the large meeting room, a brown manila folder gripped tightly in his hand, as he makes his way to the front of the massive table. All the available Avengers already sitting around it, wondering why they are here, and what this impromptu meeting is all about.

Steve glances around the room, seeing only Sam, Bucky and Tony present. As Nat, Wanda, Clint, and Vis are all off in random places in the world, on different missions. And Thor is off—well, off doing Thor things probably, no one really knows where he goes, somewhere far out in space no doubt. And Bruce is in his lab, tinkering away on some project Steve would never be able to understand. So that just leaves the 4 guys in the tower, attempting to enjoy their off time—well as much as they can, knowing that at any given moment they could be called into a briefing and shipped out. Much like right now, he assumes.

Fury drops the heavy folder on the table with a thud and clears his throat, drawing all the attention to him. He flips the folder open and grabs a few pieces of paper, effortlessly sliding a few small, stapled stacks across the tables smooth surface, one to each man. All of them picking the packets up and briefly skimming over the few pages of information. Forgoing a greeting, in classic Fury fashion, he just begins to explain why they are all here. Not wanting to waste anyone's time, but mainly his own. “We finally got some intel on Surkov,” he starts and Steve instantly perks up at the mentioned name.

Nikolai Surkov has been a thorn in Steve's side for months now. He’d first encountered Surkov—or rather, first learned his name—while in Russia taking out a large Hydro facility that was testing, and producing, animal warfare. Taking regular animals and changing them into bloodthirsty killing machines. Steve was disgusted, to say the least, and it had left him with a few new haunting images to fill his regular nightly nightmares.

They’d gone in full force and had successfully managed to take control of the entire location within 20 minutes. Along with also managing to keep all the animals safe, up until the specialists and scientists were sent in and took over. The animals were all successfully extracted and then brought to safer locations. Locations where the specialists could begin humanely attempting to undo the damage done to them, and look at relocating them all to more permanent, safe sanctuaries. Where all the animals could live out their days, peacefully. But even with that facility being permanently shut down, they knew it was only a matter of time before a new one popped up, and took over where this one had left off. And to make matters worse, Surkov had managed to escape undetected during the melee. Slipping away into the night right before they could capture him for questioning, as he was the one in charge of the whole facility. And they knew he’d be valuable for intel moving forward, being that he was rather high up in Hydra’s organization.

After they’d cleared out the whole facility, they’d then spent weeks searching for Nikolai, taking out a few more, smaller Hydra bases along the way. But he’d basically vanished, and had clearly gone deep underground. So deep that even Nat couldn’t track him, though she had tried, but it always ended up in the same place. Either just missing him, or having not even been close to him to begin with.

So, 7 months later, and they still haven’t been able to locate him. Not even so much as a single clue as to his current whereabouts, or even a hint as to which country he may be residing in. And to make matters worse, the Avengers aren’t the only ones looking out for him. A few international government organizations are searching as well, but there hasn’t been a single hit on him. Anywhere. He had basically dropped off the face of the earth. But now, now they might finally be getting somewhere. Or at least Steve desperately hopes that they are.

“Our sources believe he will be coming out of hiding to attend a large weapons expo in London. But he’ll most likely be going under an alias, and in a disguise of some sort. It is a private, and heavily guarded event, and attendance is by invite only,” Fury looks to Tony, “and since you are Tony Stark, you got one of the elusive invitations. But before you go getting too excited about that, Steve is your plus one.”

Tony glances at Steve, smirk plastered on his face, “how do you look in a dress, Capsicle?”

Steve scoffs and crosses his large arms over his broad chest, “you’d probably look better in the dress.”

Tony nods, “true, I probably would. I look good in everything.”

Steve shakes his head then turns to focus on Fury, having a few questions bouncing around in his head. “So we don’t know for sure if he’ll even be there?”

“We don’t.”

“Do we at least know why he is coming out of hiding now, and for an expo of all things?”

“We don’t, but we can assume it has something to do with the world's top weapons distributors and manufacturers all being in one place at the same time,” Fury shuffles some papers around on the table. “The risks of him attending this event are high, but there is too much potential money at stake for him to not attend. He will either be there to make illegal sales of his own weapons, or he will be there to illegally buy weapons. And both options aren’t particularly favourable to any of us, so we have to take him down before he accomplishes either.”

Steve nods in agreement, having a Hydra high up in possession of major modern warfare does not sound appealing at all. Especially if that higher up is Surkov. He focuses back on the packet of paper in his hands, one section standing out to him. “We will be working with SIS agents on this?”

“A SIS agent,” Fury corrects Steve.

“Wait, MI6!?” Sam interjects, as he sits up straighter, and glances around at the other guys, “I thought they were only allowed to handle matters outside of the UK?”

“That’s correct, MI5 usually handles everything within the UK, but MI6 has been hunting Surkov for months, just like us. So I’m assuming they have a bone to pick with him, as they aren’t usually too pleased with criminals outsmarting them. And I’m guessing in their eyes, what MI5 doesn’t know, won’t kill them. So they have chosen to quietly lend us one of their top agents to help facilitate things.”

“Meaning they want us to have a babysitter while we’re there,” Tony comments.

“Essentially,” Fury nods. “Their agent needs to stay out of the limelight on this though, so once Surkov is in custody they will disappear as if they were never there.” The men all nod, understanding that the agent will basically be a ghost to anyone but them. There to oversee and assist, but gone before anyone even notices they were in attendance to begin with.

“So what’s the plan then?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“Tony and Steve will attend the function, same with the MI6 agent. While Sam and Bucky will be on the roof, watching the doors.”

“Okay, and when do we leave?” Steve questions. Fury closes the folder then picks it back up, “in 3 hours, so pack your suits boys, your going to London.”

Steve steps off the Quinjet, raising his hand to block the blinding sunlight as he looks around. Bucky, Sam and Tony joining him on the tarmac as their eyes also start to adjust to the bright light.

“Enjoy it while you can lads, the sun doesn’t come out too often,” a sweet accented feminine voice rings out in the air. Steve instantly goes searching for the source of the voice, feeling Bucky elbow him in the side as he makes a low whistle sound, just before Steves eyes lock onto a petite form.

The woman is standing about 20 feet away from them, in a simple grey pants suit, with a white blouse. Nothing too fancy, but it’s not the clothes Steve is looking at. She is absolutely breathtaking, and even in the misleading pant-suit Steve can tell she has curves in all the right places. And he instantly chastised himself for checking her out, they are here to do a mission, not gawk at the agent. A mission that could easily end badly, though hopefully it will end with a very connected, and very dangerous, man behind bars. So no, now is not the time to be ogling their liaison, no matter how beautiful she may be.

“That’s the MI6 agent?” Sam mumbles so only the guys will hear him.

“I call dibs,” Bucky whispers with a chuckle.

“Like hell you do, Tin-Man,” Sam scoffs. “Plus you’re far too old for her.”

“And you’re far too dumb,” Bucky retorts, childishly. Steve shoots both guys a stern warning glare, telling them to zip it and behave.

“You both don’t even stand a chance,” Tony chuckles as he shakes his head and makes his way towards the agent. Sam and Bucky hurrying to catch up to him. Steve just sighs deeply and slings his bag over his shoulder, following the guys towards where she currently stands beside an all black Mercedes GLS—But Steve only knows that because the back of the large SUV is currently facing him, and he can read the chrome decals with the model name on it.

You arrived to the airstrip 20 minutes before the Avengers were due to land. And to say you were excited to meet the legendary heroes was a bit of an understatement. You’d admired them all for years, maybe even longer, reading countless articles on them and their accomplishments. Even occasionally watching the odd news release on them, if you could find the time, that is.

When this opportunity was offered to you, you’d had to reign in your excitement level. Not wanting to look daft in front of your superiors. So you’d just given them a stiff nod, replying professionally that you’d accept, and then listened intently as they finished briefing you on the operation, before promptly exited the room once they had finished. And then the second you were out of eye shot you’d done a little happy dance, allowing your utter internal glee out for just a moment. Before you’d promptly reigned it back in and continued on with your day.

So now, 2 days later, here you are standing on the tarmac waiting for their aircraft to land. And desperately trying to calm your rising nerves and racing heart. You quickly wipe your clammy hands down the front of your pants, as you hear the first sounds of a descending aircraft. Then do a silent prayer to the heavens that you don’t make an arse of yourself in front of them.

You are a distinguished agent, one who has spent your whole life honing your skills and climbing the proverbial ladder. You are a top MI6 agent for a reason, you didn’t just fall into this position, you earned it. You can’t let 4 men—superheroes or not—get to you like this. You’ve done countless missions. Saved, rescued and killed many, many people. This should be a piece of cake for you. So then why are you still so bloody nervous?

As the ramp lowers, you shift your weight anxiously from foot to foot. But then quickly reprimand yourself, and force yourself to stand tall and steady. You watch as the four men start to walk off the aeroplane, you smile as they all start to squint or raise their hands to shield their eyes from the sun. It was a beautiful day out, the sun was out and shinning, which wasn’t a regular occurrence in this part of the world. But you weren’t complaining in the slightest.

Your eyes glance over each of them, pausing for a little longer on a certain blonde super soldier. You’d assumed he’d be rather dashing from the photos you’d seen, but you never expected him to be this insanely fit. Like drool all over yourself attractive. He was a dishy for sure. You giggle quietly to yourself then loudly say, “enjoy it while you can lads, the sun doesn’t come out too often.”

You watch as their eyes all search for you, each of them finding you rather quickly. You have to bite your lip to hide your grin when you watch Sergeant Barnes promptly elbow Captain Rogers. Then the guys all exchange a few words that you can’t make out over the general noise of the airstrip, but you can assume what they are chatting about. You.

Mr. Shark is the first one to make his way towards you, and you stand tall—as tall as you can, at least—and focus your full attention on him. But you are always aware of your surroundings, so you note that Mr. Wilson and Sergeant Barnes are only a few steps behind him, while Captain Rogers is still near the end of the ramp. And just as Mr. Stark reaches you, you stick your right hand out to him, “Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Harper.”

He playfully grimaces, “please, call me Tony, no need for the formalities. And it’s nice to meet you also, Harper,” he says the name suspiciously as he shakes your hand, a smirk playing on his lips. “Though I am curious if that is your real name or not.”

You smirk right back, “it is today.” Which is true, that isn’t actually your name, but you have to be a ghost here. And using real names makes that rather difficult to accomplish. So as far as these lads are concerned, you are Harper.

He playfully narrows his eyes at you, “I tried to look you up, couldn’t find any mention of you anywhere though.”

“I should think not,” you wink at him then turn your focus to the other two men, sticking your right hand out once again, “Sergeant Barnes and Mr. Wilson, I presume?”

Sergeant Barnes shakes your hand first, sending you a handsome smile, “just Bucky is fine, Doll.”

Mr. Wilson scoffs loudly at Bucky’s use of the pet name, and you almost burst out laughing at that. Being utterly thankful he drew the attention to him, and away from the flush most likely now on your face. You offer your hand to Mr. Wilson, who shakes it and also corrects his name, “everyone just calls me Sam.”

“Sam it is then,” you smile and nod.

“Okay, I gotta know,” Sam starts, leaning in slightly to whisper, “how did you end up in MI6? I heard it’s extremely hard to get hired with them.” He leans back and gives you a once over, but not in a creepy way. More of an assessment. “And you can’t be much older then what? Mid twenties, max?”

“Yes,” Tony pipes in, eyeing you up as well, “I’m also curious about that.”

“Guys,” a deep voice sighs, exasperatedly, from your left, “you all know she can’t give us any information on herself.”

You glance over to see Captain Rogers now standing near you. Finding yourself instantly and utterly gobsmacked by the ridiculously tall and insanely attractive super soldier. Your mouth promptly dries and your heart starts to race. He is even more of a dish up close. You tear your eyes away from the solid tower of a man, forcing them back to the three others. Not wanting to just awkwardly ogle him any longer, for fear he may think you daft, or worse, a slapper. You internally cringe at the thought and externally nod to the men, “yes, Captain Rogers is correct. As far as you all are concerned, I’m just Harper, your hired tourist guide, and nothing more.”

They don’t look too pleased with your response, but you can’t risk your true identity getting out. The fact that they already know what you look like, and that you are MI6, is already too far out of your comfort zone. You shake off your worry and then turn to face the tower again, extending your hand for the final time today, “Captain Rogers, it’s truly an honour to meet you, sir. Welcome to London.”

And once again, you internally cringe, but this time it’s at how eager and utterly star-stuck your voice sounded just now. Barely even registering in your ears as your own voice. You want to face palm, instantly. Your eyes catch the movement as the corners of his lips twitched up just slightly, instantly confirming that he had picked up on your flustered tone as well. Though luckily for you, he doesn’t draw any attention to it, and instead just grasps your hand firmly. And the moment his large, warm hand engulfs yours, you want to melt into a puddle. You never expected to have this sort of instantaneous reaction to a man, let alone Steve Rogers AKA Captain America. However, in your defence, you never actually expected to ever meet the man, let alone shake his hand.

“Please, just Steve,” he smiles, “and it’s an honour to meet you too, Harper.”

How did he...? Right, super soldier with crazy intense hearing. You’d need to remember that for the future. You smile in return, reluctantly extracting your hand from his, then gesture towards the SUV. “Well, now that the introductions are all out of the way, shall we be off?”

They all nod and then move towards the vehicle. Tony, Sam and Bucky all bickering about seating placement as they hop into the back. And you make your way to the right side to get into the driver's seat. Rounding the back to the car you see Steve going to pull open the door and you giggle at that, “you planning to drive us?”

He turns to you, his brow furrowed in confusion, “I’m sorry?”

You smirk, leaning in to whisper, “we do things on the opposite sides here.”

He quickly turns to look in the window, most likely now seeing the steering wheel, then chuckles and rubs the back of his neck as he looks back to you, “I’m still not entirely used to that. Clearly.” He pulls open the door for you, stepping back slightly so you can get in.

“I figured,” you smile sweetly, as you climb into the car. “And thank you.” He nods and closes your door then makes his way to the left side of the car.

“He forgot you guys do things weirdly over here, didn’t he?” Tony pipes up from the back and you glance over your shoulder as you click in your seatbelt, and just as Steve opens the passenger door you speak.

“No, I believe he was just being a gentleman,” you reply nonchalantly as you look up at Steve, who gives you a thankful nod as he takes his seat.

You may not know Tony Stark well—or rather, at all currently—but you can already tell that he’d be someone to hold something, even as small as this, over Steve for days. Where as it’s common knowledge that the super soldiers are gentleman, being from the 40’s and all. You glance back at Tony, who looks ridiculous currently sandwiched between Bucky and Sam, having refused to let them sit next to each other.

“And we do things the right way over here. Hence why the driver is located on the right,” you gesture to yourself then turn to face forward. Starting up the car, and driving off the tarmac, heading off towards the hotel where you’ll all be staying for the next week.

The first 3 days flew by, spending most of that time touring the guys around London, showing them all the sights, and keeping up the rouse that they were just here on vacation, and to attend the expo as guests. You wore a full disguise and acted as their ‘hired tourist guide’, when in actuality you were all out hunting down information on Surkov. Trying to learn if he was for sure going to be in attendance at the expo.

By the 4th day of reaching out to informants and your lads in the underground, you managed to figure out that he was in fact going to be there. And that he would be going by the alias, Dmitry Kalashnik.

Then the 5th day, was spent huddled in Tony’s room studying Surkov’s photos, going over the floor plans, and finalizing everything else. Making sure you were all on the same page, and everyone knew where to be, who they were looking for, and what their assignments were.

And now being the 6th day, also known as expo day, you were currently getting ready for the show. But you hadn’t seen much of the guys all day, everyone taking the morning to themselves to prep and prepare for the mission. Just as you’d done as well.

However, it was finally time to start getting ready, and even though this was a weapons expo, the dress code was posh as shite. You’d had to purchase a formal gown for the event, but luckily because this was technically a mission, SIS had covered the cost of the dress. So all you really had to do was pick one out that you liked.

The dress you’d ended up choosing was a nude Gemeli Power creation, that was form fitting and had somewhat sturdy wrap around straps. Though you’d partially chosen this dress mainly for the fact it would be impossible to fight in, and as you weren’t supposed to even be in the UK. Let alone working a job for MI6. You figured having on a dress that restricted your abilities and that you risked ripping apart at the seams in a melee, was a smart choice. Mainly just to help keep you in line, and remind you that you couldn’t blow your ghost cover.

Though you had originally been looking at a red dress, but figured red would stand out too much. So you went with a flattering nude colour, it accented your skin tone perfectly and didn’t draw too much attention to you. You couldn’t be remembered by anyone tonight, but you still needed to look pretty enough to actually entice Surkov enough to chat you up.

You’re assignment was only to track Surkov down and distract him, while Tony slipped a sedative into his drink and Steve watched everything play out from afar, handling any interferences. Then when he started to feel the effects of the sedative, you’d be a caring stranger and help lead him outside for some fresh air, where Bucky and Sam would be waiting to collect him. And once that was all said and done, you’d slip silently away into the night.

You’d showered quickly, deciding to leave your hair down, and styling it minimally, then applied your makeup and gotten dressed. The final touch being a beautiful pearl ring, that held a teensy tiny secret, and that you never left for a mission without. And now all that was left to do was to make your way to the expo, as you’d be showing up alone. Instead of with the lads, as that would—once again—draw too much attention to you. You needed to pretend like you had no clue who they were, like you were just there on behalf of your company.

A company that was entirely made up by MI6, but that they used as a front for things exactly like this. In the eyes of the public, Ingenx Inc was a fully functional and operational legal weapons wholesaler and manufacturer. Yet in actuality, it was just an empty warehouse in the middle of nowhere, with the only staff members being the security guards that watched over the site. You’d never even been there before, yet you supposedly headed up the companies entire ‘acquisitions and procurement’ department.

As the hired car pulled up outside the venue, you quickly slipped in your ear piece, switching it on and then climbed out of the car. Adjusting your dress so it fell on your body smoothly and then made your way into the large venue.

Showing your invite to security once you approached, and giving them your Ingenx alias of Kelly Hartley. And then once they had found your name on the list, they ushered you through the doors and you entered into a grand lobby. Finding lots of poshly dressed people standing around in small groups, mingling and sipping drinks. You continued on ahead into the first of three massive ballrooms that were housing the expo tonight, with only one thought on your mind as you entered the massive room, lined with booths along all the walls and two rows down the middle. The game is afoot.

Steve wandered around in the second ballroom, keeping his eye out for Surkov as he went. But stopping every few booths when something caught his eye, to check out the weapons and ask pointless questions as to keep up the front that he was only here to scope out products for the Avengers.

Harper—as she claimed—was going by Kelly tonight and was in charge of searching ballroom one. Steve was in charge of ballroom two, and Tony had the third ballroom. Whoever located Surkov first would inform the others over the comms, and they would all convene to that ballroom and then the plan would be put into action. Steve raises a hand to pretend to scratch his ear and then inserts the comms device, turning it on once it was in place. Then he murmurs a quick, “can everyone hear me?”

“Aye aye, Captain,” comes Tony’s quick response. Followed closely by a, “you betcha, Pal,” from Buck. Then a, “loud and clear,” from Sam. But Harper is silent, so Steve speaks quietly again, “Harper, you out there?”

A moment later she finally speaks up, and Steve releases the breath he’d been holding. Worried that something might have already happened to her. “Yes, I’m here. My apologizes, I got stuck chatting up a smarmy git who refused to put a sock in it,” she huffs. And Steve has to attempt to not laugh out loud, as he isn’t currently talking to anyone, and that would only draw unwanted attention to him. “A what now?” Sam asks confused and Steve hears Bucky laughing loudly in the background. “And put a sock where, exactly?” Tony adds, through a chuckle.

A loud sigh rings out over the comms, and Steve figures that she is slowly becoming more used to the guys constantly asking what her British slang means. Her sigh is followed closely by her soft, slightly irritated, accented voice, “a smarmy git is like a,” she pauses. “I duno, like a greasy, unpleasant person, I guess? And the sock would have been for his gob.” Another pause, “you remember what a gob is, yeah?”

Tony chuckles, “that we do.” And Steve internally agrees with him, they had learned a bunch of new words over the last week, gob being just one of many.

During one of their ‘touring’ days, as she called them. Harper had been cut off by another car and had made some strange hand signal and yelled, “you tosser!” out the window at the other driver. Sam had promptly asked what a tosser was, and she’d just sighed and then explained that it meant ‘a wanker’. And even though Steve knew that the guys understood what she meant by that, Tony, being Tony, still questioned it further. Causing her to shoot him a playful glare but then explained that in some cases, much like being cut off, it meant an idiot with a total lack of regard for others.

Then, the next day she accidentally turned the wrong way down a one way street, and uttered a, “bloody hell!” when she noticed. That time, the guys didn’t need to ask what she meant by that, but yet in classic Tony form, he had said ‘language!’ and then, because she obviously didn’t know the context behind that phrase. Nor would Tony clearly ever let Steve live that down, he explained exactly where ‘language’ came from. Causing Harper to giggle uncontrollably but then, surprisingly, she hasn’t brought it up or joked about it since. Which did not go unnoticed by Steve.

“Anyone have eyes on him yet?” Steve asks over the comms. “Negative Capsicle,” Tony answers. “Nothing yet,” Harper replies, “though I have searched the entire room and he isn’t here. What would you like me to do now, Steve?”

“Stay there for now, Harper. If he isn’t here yet, the first ballroom will most likely be where he goes once he arrives. Tony, is your ballroom clear?”

“Yeah, he isn’t in this one either.”

“Alright, then let’s all convene in the first ballroom to wait it out,” Steve answers as he makes his way out of the second ballroom and heads towards the first.

“I just have to see a man about a dog, and then I’ll be there,” Tony replies, cheekily.

A snort followed by an angelic giggle plays through the comms, causing an involuntary smile to break out on Steve’s lips as he enters into the first ballroom. He was growing pretty fond of the sounds of her laughs. Or rather, just her in general. More fond than he should be after only a week around her. And with every passing day, the realization that he’ll have to leave soon sinks in more and more. Leaving him completely clueless as to what he is going to do about that. But for now he has to focus on the mission, focus on finding Surko—

His eyes instantly land on her as he enters into the first ballroom, and he is positive his jaw is actually laying on the floor now. He is speechless. Or gobsmacked, as she’d put it. He hadn’t gotten a chance to see her all day, let alone since she’s been in that dress. She’d been wearing loose fitting clothes all week, in an attempt to help mask her identity. He’ll admit, even in the ill fitting clothes she was absolutely stunning.

But like this?! This dress, the way it hugs her like a glove, and shows off just enough skin but also leaves some to the imagination. He can barely contain the urge to go to her, scoop her up and take her away from all of this. Somewhere he can keep her forever, and do everything in his power to make her happy, safe and carefree. He shakes his head, clearing the thoughts, and forces his eyes to move away from the goddess in front of him. He is supposed to be a stranger to her, and vice versa. He can’t blow her cover, nor his own. He has to get a handle on his emotions, his thoughts, and his eyes.

You’re standing in front of a booth that has a display of long range missile launchers. Listening to the vender explain all the features and you’re not going to lie, you want one. Badly. Maybe you could buy one for yourself? But would you really ever use it? Would you ever need to? Who are you kidding, of course you would, you’d honestly find any reason to use it. But what if you lose it in a melee? Best to get 3 of them, just to be safe—

Something large and royal blue catches your eye, and you glance over to see Steve, slowly making his way down the row of booths towards you. And your heart skips a beat as you take in just how utterly handsome he looks in his suit. So handsome it should probably be illegal. You’d write a letter to parliament later about that.

You glance around the room, noticing a few female eyes lingering on the ridiculously fit super soldier. But honestly, you’d have expected way more eyes to be on him. How are some women, and men, not even paying attention to their surroundings enough to notice him?! Who could not want to just stare longing at the tower of a man. He was utter perfection.

You shake your head, suppressing a laugh at your ridiculous thoughts, and then attempt to focus back on the man going over the missile launchers you so desperately wanted just 4 minutes ago. But now, now you don’t want 3 of them anymore. You just want 1 Steve. Bullocks! You sigh deeply, then thank the vender for the presentation as you step away from the booth. You need a drink now, or maybe 5.

And just as you turn, you collide with a wall of muscle, and know instantly who it is, without a shadow of a doubt. You glance up at the piercing blue eyes that you’ve grown so enchanted with over the last week. Then your eyes drop down to his lips, as the corners of them twitch slightly. Clearly he is suppressing a smirk right now. Cheeky bugger. Your eyes snap back up to his just as he starts to speak, “my apologizes, ma’am. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

You force your face to stay neutral, “that’s alright, neither was I. No harm done.”

“How’s about I buy you a drink to make up for it?”

You furrow your brows at him momentarily, you both were supposed to be steering clear of each other. You weren’t supposed to even chat him up, let alone get a drink with him. What is he doing? In your peripherals you notice people watching you both, realizing that if you decline the offer it may seem more odd then if you just accept the drink offer. Because honestly, who would turn down a drink with Steve Rogers? No one, that’s who. And if you do turn him down, people may question as to why you did. You nod, “that sounds like a splendid idea.”

He offers you his right hand, “I’m Steve Rogers.”

You shake it, “Kelly Hartley.”

“It’s truly an honour to meet you, Kelly,” he smirks at you, offering you his arm and reciting the flustered line you had originally used when you both first met. You have to bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing at this big beautiful bugger.

“Likewise,” you say as you place your hand in the crook of his arm, then he leads you towards the bar.

Tony’s voice rings out in your ear, “Cap, did you miss the part where we weren’t supposed to interact with,” he pauses for effect then continues on to say your name slowly, drawing attention to it. “Harper.” And just like every other time he has used your name, over the last few days, he always says it slowly and with a sarcastic emphasis on it. Making you well aware that he knows it’s not your real name, and that he desperately wants to know what your actual name is. But that is one bit of information that Tony Stark will not be getting his hands on. And that thought makes you grin, knowing that you are frustrating thee Tony Stark makes you proud.

You and Steve reach the bar and you reluctantly remove your hand from his arm, turning to him as he speaks, “what would you like to drink?”

“Surprise me, I’m easy,” you smirk up at him and he chuckles softly, then turns to the waiting bartender and orders you both a drink.

Turning to face you again once he’s finished. “So, Kelly, what is it that brings you to a weapons expo?”

“Same reasons as you, I presume,” you smile, and it’s slightly cheeky, “here to check out the merchandise, and possibly leave with some. If one catches my eye, that is.”

The twinkle in his eye tells you he caught your double entendres, like always. “Have any?” he pauses, then adds, “caught your eye yet, I mean.”

You glance around the room, nonchalantly, “a few,” then you lock eyes with him again, “one in particular.” Then you see the bartender put your drinks on the counter beside you and you pick yours up, taking a deliberately slow sip. But keeping your eyes locked with his the whole time.

“Oh?” He says, intrigued, also picking up his drink, “and which one was that?”

“A rather large, rather robust,” you lick your lower lip, your eyes flicking down to his plump lips before snapping back up to his eyes. “Long range missile launcher,” you finish, watching as his cheeks flush slightly, and you almost want to pat yourself on the back. Over the last week, Steve and you have had a very interesting friendship. You both had clicked instantly and within a day, you were curious just how proper America’s golden boy really was.

So you tested the waters, starting with a few small and slightly flirty innuendos. And you were not disappointed by his responses, at all. Yes, he’d blush like a schoolgirl, but he would play into them and respond in kind. It quickly became a game to you both, seeing just how far you could take the double entendres or innuendos, before one of you caved and either laughed or forfeited.

You were pleasantly surprised by just how quick on his feet he was—and you aren’t talking about his fighting skills. The games score was basically tied up at this point, you both being pretty evenly matched in the wits department. But there was one secret part to the game, one Steve was gormless too. And that was that you were also seeing if you could make him blush. And each time you did, you’d get a sweet. Looks like you owe yourself a sweetie now.

“Is Cap blushing?” Tony’s voice cut into your mind once more, “you two are playing that game again, aren’t you?” You bite your lip, and nod, knowing wherever Tony is, he’ll see your subtle reply. Then you glance around and catch sight of him off to your left, near a booth for miniature grenades, but your eyes don’t pause on him and instead continue on around the room. “And you didn’t invite me to join?” He gasps playfully, then continues on in the worst English accent you’ve ever heard, “I am completely and utterly appalled.”

You snort and Steve subtly shakes his head, then continues on with the charade, “I don’t believe I’ve seen those yet. I’ll have to thoroughly check them out before I leave.”

“Oh yes, you simply must,” you nod.

“Guys, I got eyes on Surkov,” Sam’s voice rings in your ear now, and both Steve and yourself tense up slightly, “he is entering the building now.”

And just like that, the game is over. We’ll just call this one a drawn. You hold up your glass in front of you, “thank you for the drink, Steve. But I must be off, though I do so hope you thoroughly enjoy checking the weapons out.”

He smirks, “same to you, Kelly.” Then you move away from the bar, and the insanely fit super soldier, and start to make your way around the ballroom. Heading towards the entrance as to position yourself where you may be able to catch Surkov's eye.

And just as you reach the booth closest to the door, you see him entering the ballroom. You position yourself so that your bum and exposed back are facing towards him, and then you glance over your shoulder as if looking for someone. But then you pause your ‘search’ when your eyes lock on to his, before giving him a very obvious, and very played up, once over ending it all off with a coy smirk as your eyes meet his once again. And once that is competed you promptly turn back around, continuing to look at the wide selection of artillery attachments, before picking up an advanced clip on thermal scope. Pretending to be ridiculously interested in it and all its features.

After a moment you feel a presence right next to you, closer than proper society would allow, and you glance over to see Surkov standing there. Checking out the accessories as well. And you almost laugh at just how easy it was to catch his attention. “Can you believe just how far weapons accessories have come,” you start, stepping a little closer to him as he glances down at you. “I could probably fit that sniper rifle stand in my handbag, but I’d wager 100 pounds that she could easily support the weight of a rather large,” you eye him up and down again, licking your lower lip, “man. If need be.”

He smirks at you, giving you a full up and down as well, “easily, you say?”

“Oh yes,” you nod, “very easily. Care to wager against me?”

“No,” he shakes his head and chuckles, “I only bet on sure things. Not against them.”

“Well darn,” you sigh, playfully. “I was rather looking forward to taking your money,” you smirk up at him, “seems you are too smart for my tricks.”

“So it would seem. Care to join me for a drink..?” He trails off, prompting you for your name.

“Kelly,” you stick your right hand out to him, “Kelly Hartley.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kelly,” he clasps your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I’m Dmitry Kalashnik.”

You deliberately think of Steve being the one kissing your hand—and maybe other places as well, you dirty birdie—the images causing an instant flush to take over your cheeks. Helping to play up your act of being interested in Surkov. “You, as well.”

He grins and then leads you both off to the bar, and once you get there he orders for you both. Not even asking what you’d like, but you already figured that’s what he’d do. He seems like the type to need constant control in every situation. So you’d play to his ego and give him exactly that.

You spend the next 20 minutes listening ‘intently’ to everything he says, answering the odd questions he asks here and there, and absentmindedly playing with the pearl ring on your finger. Spinning it round and round as a distraction.

You are still on your first drink, but he is now on his third. You’ve caught eyes with Steve a few times when he’d check in over the comms, letting him know with your eyes that you were okay. But other then that, every one stayed away and quiet, allowing you the peace to continue pretending to be focused on Surkov. You catch movement behind him, and hear Tony quietly say over the comms, “I’m ready when you are.”

Your eyes flick momentarily passed Surkov and lock with Tony’s, giving him the signal, before focusing back on the large Russian. He is yakking on about his homeland or something, you aren’t really sure anymore. You tuned out a while ago, but continued to nod every once in a while. Seemingly very interested in whatever he was saying.

And then your celly chirps from with in your small handbag, and you open the snap and go to grab your phone. But just as you reach your hand inside the clutch, it falls out of your hands and crashes to the floor. The contents scattering all over the place. “Oh bullocks,” you mumble and then quickly crouch down to collect up your scattered things.

Surkov places his drink down on the bar, then crouches down to help you pick everything up. His hands instantly finding the 3 condom packages you’d strategically placed in you handbag for this exact reason. He lifts them up between his fingers, a smirk playing on his lips and one eyebrow raised.

You instantly force yourself—though you’re not going to lie, it honestly doesn’t take much effort at all—to think of a certain blonde tower, possibly using those rubber johnny’s with you. And once again you flush, instantly.

Making you realize right away that using images of Steve to help you fake being flustered works surprisingly well, and you plan to exploit that new little trick further in the future. It could definitely come in handle in situations just like this. As long as the images themselves don’t kill you on there own—that being a very real possibility for sure. But is exploiting your attraction to Steve like this, creepy? Probably. Are you going to let that stop you from fantasizing about the man in the buff? Not bloody likely.

You internally shake yourself, forcing yourself to focus, and decide to play it up by coyly bowing your head, pretending to be embarrassed. You gather up the last of your things, placing them back in your handbag and then take the condoms from Surkov, making sure to graze your fingers along his as you do. “Better to be safe, I always say,” you place them in your bag as well, then stand back up. Instantly noticing that Tony is now gone.

“All clear,” Tony’s voice comes over the comms again, and then he chuckles out a, “and the condoms were a fantastic touch, by the way.”

You bite your lip to suppress the smirk that wants to form, as your eyes flick instantly over to Steve’s, seeing him raise a brow at you. The expression almost causing you to blush even more. You glance back to Surkov, who has a smug smirk on his lips as he replies. “that it is.” He picks his drink back up and takes a generous gulp. Just like you hoped he would.

You both continue to chat, Surkov finishing off his drink and ordering another. And then after 10 minutes he starts to sway slightly on his feet, slurring his words and looking a little flushed.

“Are you alright?” You inquire, feigning concern. He just nods erratically in response, but doesn’t offer any verbal reply. “Do you need to go take some air?” You ask, as you tentatively take a step towards him. “You’re looking a little off colour.” He just silently nods again and you offer him your arm, giving him what little balance support you can, and then lead him towards the back exit. Which leads to a set of stairs and then some hallways and finally into a large courtyard, where Bucky and Sam will be waiting for you.

You throw Steve a look with a slight nod as you pass him, telling him to inform the guys that you’re on the way outside. And he nods back once, in confirmation.

You exit the ballroom into a long corridor, hearing Steve’s voice in your ear, “Buck, Sam, Harper is making her way to you both.” You smile to yourself at the sound of his deep voice, hearing Buck and Sam’s acknowledgement of his words shortly after. You go down the hall a bit then through a door that leads to a set of stairs. You caustiously and carefully help Surkov down them and then through another door, making a left once through. And then heading down another long hallway, towards the final doors that will lead you both outside.

But as you are slowly making your way, finding it rather hard to maneuver the giant half asleep man, you feel his hand shift on your arm. And then all of a sudden your back is slammed into the wall, his large right hand on your throat, firmly pining you in place. You were caught completely off guard, which isn’t like you, at all. You are usually always alert, always vigilant. And you normally never underestimate your opponents. But, unfortunately, this time you had. “Who do you work for?” He growls directly in your face.

You put both hands up in front of you, trying to show you aren’t a threat. “I-Ingenx I-Inc,” you stutter out, playing up Kelly’s fear. While Y/N devises a plan.

“Bullshit!” He yells, yanking you forward then promptly slamming you back into the wall. You quickly clasp your hands together, covertly removing the ring off your finger. “I’ll only ask one more time, who do you work for?”

And just as he finishes the words, you secretly slip your ring into my suit jacket pocket, and then turn your body quickly to the left, as your right hand comes up and your palm slams into his wrist. Knocking his hand off your throat and then you promptly elbow him in the neck, with your already lifted and primed right arm. And before he can even comprehend what is going on, you bend down, yanking up the bottom of your dress, and remove the small handgun you have strapped to your right ankle. Then aim it directly at his head. “I work for a very interested party, who wants nothing more then to see a disgusting prick like you behind bars,” you click off the safety, “now get on your knees and put your hands on your head. Nice and slow, Surkov.”

He glares at you and is just about to lower himself down, when a door near the end of the hall opens and a few rather large and unfriendly looking chaps emerge. Guns drawn and raised in their hands. And then they all take aim at you and begin to fire, you spin and quickly throw yourself into a small door alcove. Gun clasped tightly in both hands in front of your face, posed and ready to fire should any of them come for you.

You take a moment to try to steady your breathing, while bullets loudly embed into the walls surrounding you. Then with a deep breath in, you drop down to a crouch and lean out from your hiding place to return fire, managing to take out two of Surkov’s henchmen and then tuck back into the alcove to stand. Knowing that trick would only work once, you try to come up with any sort of plan to escape. You only have so many bullets on you, and at this rate you are going to use them all in no time flat.

You startle when you hear Bucky’s voice over the comms, having almost completely forgotten about your ear piece, “Harper, are you okay?”

“Is she not there yet?” Steve asks, concern laced in his voice.

You release one hand on the gun and raise it to your ear piece, “I’m okay, but I seem to have gotten myself into a bit of a jam.”

“Where are you? What happened?” Steve quickly asks, already sounding like he is in motion.

“In the lower hallway to the courtyard, the sedatives didn’t work, and he brought back up,” you rattle off then pause, leaning out again to return fire momentarily, so you can count the henchmen. And thanks to your stellar marksmanship skills, you manage to take a third henchman out while at it.

“How many?” Tony asks hastily, while you are in the midst of figuring that out.

Once tucked back into the alcove you continue, “there are only 7 of the buggers left, and all with truly appalling aim,” you scoff. “Though best be careful when you enter the hall, they do have full control of it at the moment.”

“Where are you, exactly?” Steve questions.

“Tucked into an alcove about half way down.”

“Good, stay there, we’re coming for you.”

You barely even have time to release a relieved sigh when a door, down near where you had originally entered the hall, bursts open, followed by the sound of another door bursting open at the other end. Then as if seeing land for the first time after weeks at sea, you catch sight of the iconic shield coming down the hall towards you. Watching as bullets ping and ricochet off it as if they were mere balls of paper.

And in no time at all, Steve is sliding into the already cramped alcove with you. “I heard someone needed some assistance,” he says playfully through a grin, though you can see the worry deeply etched into his face and eyes. He raises his shield to block you both from the hall, in case a bullet ricochets off a nearby wall.

The shield basically makes a small enclosed space for you both, causing you to become acutely aware of just how close you are to each other. Steve is almost the same width as the alcove and damn near just as tall, so there isn’t much room to work with currently. But you aren’t about to complain about having the handsome super soldier pressed up against you. Though you will complain that you wish it was due to more personal reasons, preferably ones that involve less clothes, and less of a potential for death.

“Splendid timing,” you smile up at him. Just then all the gun firing and commotion stops, and you hear Tony call from down the hall, “all clear you two.” Steve lowers the shield and you both step out of your hiding place and into the open hallway, the henchmen’s bodies all lying in various places along the hall.

“Is Surkov one of these?” Steve asks as you both make your way towards Tony, stepping over the bodies and checking for your guy as you do.

“No, he wasn’t in the hall when we arrived,” Tony responds and you glance up to notice him in his full Iron Man get up, minus the face piece.

Steve quickly lifts his hand to his comms, “Sam, Buck, please tell me you guys have Surkov?”

The comms channel opens up, and gunshots can be heard in the background along with Sam’s breathy voice, “we almost had him Cap, but the asshole brought heavy back up. If you guys don’t have anything better to do in there, we could really use a hand out here.”

Upon hearing the gun fire, you sigh deeply, knowing the smart thing to do right now would be to leave this to the Avengers. You really should head back to the expo and leave out the front. You aren’t even supposed to be here, and getting into a melee outside and in public isn’t a smart move. At all. But one glance up at Steve, and you know you can’t just walk away now. You owe it to them to help, and you also owe it to yourself to put Surkov behind bars. He has seen your face, if he gets away now you will have to forever be looking over your shoulder. And that’s not something you’re even remotely interested in.

So it’s settled then, you will see this through till the end. You bend down and quickly removed your heels, knowing they will only hinder you. Then you shed an internal tear for what you are about to do. “Bugger, I was really looking forward to wearing this again,” you mumble as you remove the hidden knife that’s attached to your left ankle, and then cut a vertical slit into the bottom of your beautiful, and expensive gown, then with both hands you pull apart. Tearing it to midway up your left thigh, instantly allowing you a way better range of motion.

You tuck the knife back away, grab your clutch off the floor then stand back up. Quickly retrieving your phone, then discarding the handbag, full of fake personal items, back on the ground. It was just a prop to distract Surkov, nothing in the handbag is of any value, or can help anyone locate you. Once that is done you glance up at Steve, who is just watching you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Like I’m going to let you chaps have all the fun,” you sass with a grin, tucking your phone into Steves pants pocket. “Hold on to that for me, would ya? It may come in handy later.”

Steve chuckles, “will do,” then he raises his hand once again and says, “on our way, guys,” as he starts to run towards the exit doors. Tony right in front of him and you hot on his heels.

Tony’s face piece forms back in place as the three of you burst out the doors, Steve's shield blocking you both as Tony thrusts up into the air. You glance up momentarily to watch him, and notice Sam up there as well. The guys clearly came fully prepared.

You focus back on the mission at hand, and start shooting any henchmen foolish enough to get in front of you. And as you are taking out a rather stupid henchman, you see Surkov hopping into a car. You reach up to click the comms button, “he’s getting away.”

“We got him,” Tony replies as he takes off at full speed to chase the car, Sam hot on his trail.

You, Steve and Bucky make quick work of the remaining henchmen and then are left in complete silence, no sight of Tony or Sam anywhere.

“What do we do now, Cap?” Bucky asks as he approaches you both, a massive assault rifle in his flesh hand. Steve is just about to click his comms device, most likely to ask where the two others are. But you halt him, then without breaking eye contact with him, you reach into his pocket and pull out your phone.

Receiving a curious look from Steve and then you glance at Bucky and see him shake his head, a smirk on his lips. “I believe now is the time that this,” you wiggle the phone, “will come in handy.” You quickly unlock it and then open the tracking app, bring up a map with a little red blinking light on a location a few blocks away. “I might have slipped my tracking device into his pocket,” you smile smugly at the lads, as you show them your phone screen.

“Can we keep her?” Bucky whispers through a laugh. And Steve only chuckles at his friends question, but doesn’t answer as he takes your phone to look more closely at it.

“They are 2 blocks over,” Steve comments as he hands it back to you, a smirk on his lips, “looks like we’ll have to leg it.” You giggle at his British term and then you all ‘leg it’ to the location where Surkov is.

And just as you reach the spot, you find his car crashed and on it’s roof, while Tony and Sam have him out of it and laying face down and cuffed on the ground—Which is a little anticlimactic and a bit of a piss off, if you’re being honest. You were really looking forward to catching the prick yourself, but he is apprehended nonetheless. So all and all, you are pleased. Sort of.

But now that they have him, your mission here is done. You slowly move away from the commotion and see a taxi nearing you. You lift a hand to flag it down, and just as you open the door you turn and lock eyes with Steve. Giving him a smirk and a small nod as you get into the taxi to leave.

This wasn’t exactly how you envisioned this night playing out, but you were happy it was all over with. And now you can go back to the hotel, pack up your things and then go home for a while. Or at least until you are debriefed and shipped off to the next mission location. But just as the taxi is pulling away you hear Tony’s voice ring in your ear, one last time, “hey kid, if you ever find yourself in New York, look us up.”

“That will probably be sooner, rather than later,” you giggle, then continue, “as I’ll need to trade this posh little comms device for my pearl ring. Keep it safe for me, will ya?”

“Pearl ring?” Tony asks, confused.

“Which pocket is it in?” Steve questions. And you reply, “his left jacket pocket. I’d be rather unhappy to lose it, it’s quite important to me.”

“Got it,” Steve replied after a moment, “and don’t worry, I’ll keep it safe for ya.”

“Thank you, Steve. Stay safe lads.” “You too,” Steve replies.

Tony, Bucky and Sam all say their goodbyes, and then with that you turn the comms device off and pull it out of your ear. And just as the taxi slips away into the night, one thought floats through your mind. You’re really going to miss those lads. But especially Steve.

3 MONTHS LATER - IN AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION.

You are running down a corridor, gun in hand, and chest heaving from the exertion. You are currently hot on the heels of yet another smarmy prick. One who thought it would be fun to attempt to plot world domination. These utter pillocks will just never learn.

You come to a corner, and halt, knowing to check before you go any further. You aren’t interested in gaining any new ventilation holes today. You raise your gun and peek around the corner, seeing the bloody idiot still running down the hall. You take a second to calm yourself then aim and shoot, hitting him in the upper leg, and knocking him down to the ground in a mess of limbs and curse words. You step out from behind the corner, and hastily make your way towards him, kicking the gun away from his reach once you get there.

“Good try, chap,” you say as you pat his shoulder, pressing your right knee down onto the middle of his upper back, “but you were a tad bit slow on the exit.”

He says some rather unpleasant things back to that, but you just ignore him and quickly cuff his hands behind his back, just as another person rounds the corner. You glance over your shoulder and see Tony, in his full Iron Man get up, and smile smugly at him. “Got him.”

“I can see that,” he replies through a laugh. “Well done, Harper,” he says the name sarcastically, just like before, which causes you to giggle.

You stand up, and pull the prick up with you as you do, then start to make your way back to the exit. “Ya know,” you drawl, as you hand the prick off to Tony, “you don’t actually have to call me that anymore.”

He smirks, “it’s sort of grown on me now.”

“Of course it has,” you shake your head. “So, how did I do?”

“Consider yourself hired,” he smiles and starts to pull the imbecile down the hall towards the exit, yelling over his shoulder as he goes, “that is, if you’re still interested.”

You grin widely, and once Tony is out of eye shot you do a little happy dance in the middle of the empty hallway. Then reign in your excitement level and make your way to the exit as well. Now you have to go home and pack!

1 WEEK LATER.

You walk into the posh lobby of the Avengers Tower, still not even able to comprehend that you now work here. You are now an Avenger, and you haven’t been able to wipe the grin off your face all week. You shake your head in disbelief as you make your way towards the front desk, Tony had informed you just to give them your name and they’ll set you up with a clearance pass.

You reach the desk and give the gorgeous woman your name, she quickly looks it up and then smiles up at you as she hands you your pass, pointing to the lifts off to the side and telling you the floor number. You thank her and then head for them.

The lift doors open up on the correct floor and you are just about to step off, when a body pushes you back in and enters the lift with you. And you are just about to show this prick why it isn’t smart to sneak up on an ex MI6 agent/current Avenger, when you realize it’s Tony. And he has a massive smirk on his lips, as if he knew you were just about to kick his ass into next week.

“You wanted your eye to match your suit colours, didn’t you?” You grin at him.

“I do always like to colour coordinate,” he chuckles and clicks a new floor button. “Welcome to New York, kid. How was the trip over the pond?”

“Long and uneventful,” you nod once.

“Everyone is gathered in the living space, he still has no clue that you are even here. Let alone that you now work with us,” Tony smirks wickedly at you.

About 2 months after the weapons expo in London, you’d gone to New York for a mission and had stopped off to exchange the comms device for your ring. Tony had secretly approached you and offered you a job with them, and you’d agreed to interview for it. Except, when it came to becoming a superhero, a regular, stuffy boardroom interview just wouldn’t cut it. So you’d finally had to cave and tell Tony your real name, plus give him all your actual contact information, and then he said he’d be in touch doon. So then 3 weeks later, he called you up about a small, simple mission that he would be doing alone. Hunting down a prick who was attempting world domination—Yeah, that guy you shot in the leg.

You had agreed almost immediately to do the mission with Tony as your interview. And holy shite! You might be an Avenger soon! But more importantly, you had managed to not squeal like an idiot at the offer! Though you’d only managed to hold it in until you hung up the phone. But that’s neither here, nor there.

The other Avengers all knew a new agent named Y/N was being interviewed, but not where the agent had come from. But it’s not like most of them would even know who you were, if they did know. However, Sam and Bucky both knew who you were, and were sworn to secrecy weeks ago by Tony, as he wanted to surprise Steve. That or they all just wanted to mess with him some more. With these lads it could be either or, really.

So he had no clue you’d even been offered a job, let alone taken it, passed with flying colours and had been hired on the spot. Nor was he currently aware you were even here. In the United States. In New York. In the tower. In the bloody lift, for crying out loud!

And now here you are, riding up with thee Tony Stark, AKA Iron Man, AKA your new boss. On your way to surprise Steve. And bloody hell! Can this lift not go any faster! You just want to get there already. “I can’t wait to see his face,” you smirk back just as the doors open up into a large, posh living area. Seeing all the Avengers lounging around, chatting and relaxing.

You smile as you see Bucky and Sam, both with knowing grins on their faces. You nod to them and then your excited eyes meet Steves curious blue ones, and you almost want to burst out laughing or bounce in place, because you are THAT excited to see him. You and Steve had kept in touch over the last 3 months, talking damn near daily either via text or over voice calls, when you both had the time for them that is. So you’d grow very close with the handsome super soldier, you’d even go as far as to say you were good friends now. Maybe even more.

He is just about to stand up when Tony loudly clears his throat next to you, “alright, as all of you know,” he glances at Steve, “well everyone, except Capsicle. This is our newest member,” he turns to you, “I’ll let her introduce herself, as her accent is much cooler than mine.” He smiles and gestures for you to go.

“Hello everyone, my name is Y/N Y/L/N,” you wave, “and I’m so utterly thrilled to be here.” Everyone comes over and introduces themselves, chatting you up a bit before they leave the room, heading off to go do whatever it is they do in their spare time. The last few to greet you are Sam and Bucky, both hugging you tightly and giving you a warm welcome then leaving as well. So now the only two left in the room are Steve and you. He comes over to you and you grin widely up at him, “hiya Steve.”

He chuckles, “hey Y/N.“ And the sound of your actual name falling from his lips, for the first time in person, makes butterflies instantly erupt in your tummy. “So, I was the only one who didn’t know, huh? And more importantly, when did this all come together?” He asks as he gestures around the room.

“Are you asking when this room was built?” You glance around, then continue to reply cheekily, “now that I’m not too sure about, you’d have to ask Tony.”

He shakes his head, but smiles at your horrible joke nonetheless, “I mean, when did Tony approach you about joining the team? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Don’t look at me, it was Tony’s idea to keep it a secret from you, and we all know what Tony wants, he gets,” you giggle. “But you remember when I visited last month, yeah?” You ask and he nods, so you continue on, “well during my visit Tony offered me a job. Then a week ago I did my interview and now here we are.”

“So you did well on the interview, I take it?” He smirks.

You scoff playfully, “of course I did. Have we not met?” You laugh and stick your right hand out, “Hello, I’m Y/N,” you jokingly introduce yourself.

He chuckles and shakes your hand—and of course you have the same reaction as the first time he did. The instant need to melt into a puddle. “Steve. And it’s truly an honour to meet you, Y/N.”

You giggle at the use of that darn line again, but before you can say a word back, Steve speaks up again. “If you don’t have any other plans, would you like to go grab a coffee with me?” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly then adds, “ya know, like a date.”

“‘Like’ a date?” You repeat, raising a questioning brow at him.

“Is a date,” he clarifies.

You smile up at this big beautiful tower of a man, and nod, “then that sounds like a splendid idea, Steve.”

He smiles widely and offers you his arm, which you instantly accept and then you both head for the lift. Off to enjoy your first date with Steve—a date for which you hope there are many, many more to follow. But as long as you have any say in the matter, there will be. Because you’d have to be off your damn trolley if you ever let this wonderful man get away now.

And If London Should Ring, looking for you to return, you’ll just tell them that you’re busy, from now until forever.

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@hopefulmoonobject @caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @imdiegohargreeves @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @badassbeckettswan @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @marvel13princess @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature

#au fanfiction #fanfiction #long post #long read #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x british!reader #british!reader #if london should call #one shot request #everyone lives happily in the tower #everyone is alive

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lhs3020b · 5 years

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Post Mortem

I promised some thoughts on the nightmarish debacle that has happened. Here they are.

TL;DR I am scathing about everything. Everyone who should have helped us, failed.

It's the morning after. They've won. Continuity Remain is dead; there isn't going to be any second referendum and Article 50 won't be revoked. You cannot imagine how I feel right now, typing those words. However, I have never sought to deny reality (however lovely denial might be) and reality is what it is. We've lost a referendum and two general elections; we're finished. There is no come-back from this. The country has made a sick, twisted, greedy, myopic and stupid decision - but that's the decision it's made. I have nothing good to say for what happened, except that it did happen.

Well, let's look at the one tiny silver lining: since the ship has now sailed, I can indulge my deep, seething pool of vitriol for our collection of useless opposition parties. I'd held back previously because I didn't want to add to the circular firing squad. But they've all shot each other now and the corpses have largely stopped twitching. So off we go. (Before we start, I won't be writing about CUK/TiG/Change-UK, because they were just annoying, and I can't be arsed. I think we've all spent enough time on that shower of idiots.)

Here's the core reason for why I'm so angry: all this was completely avoidable. The media will, of course, spin BoJo's victory as a paragonic triumph of political conservatism. Like that infamous Pravda article from the 30s, on the Soviet constitution, they'll fawn over BoJo and declare him a visionary and a victor, a veritable genius of the ages, dripping with lyricism and wit. He isn't. He's an over-promoted buffoon who lucked into the top office due to the self-destruction of his inept predecessor, aided and abetted by a lying and sycophantic media - and, by a collection of opposition parties whose sole interest was in fighting each other.

Here we have the real core problem. The people on our side only switch on for fighting each other. There's little sign that they actually really care about Brexit, or the wider state of the UK. But pursuing partisan vendettas against each other? Wheeeeeeeeeee!

Let's think back to the summer, when BoJo was faced with stalling polls and a hung parliament. He could have been ousted then - but, of course, the Lib Dems were adamant that they couldn't countenance the idea of Mr Corbyn as Prime Minister. They'd had this tendency for a while - it's not new - but it accelerated and was nurtured under Jo Swinson.

When she was elected as leader I was initially a bit sympathetic - it seemed reasonable to give her a chance. Unfortunately, it turned out that she might be the most rightwing leader they've ever had - I actually suspect now that she might be to the right of Clegg. And she went and turbocharged all of their most self-destructive tendencies. I think what she thought she was doing was clawing Tory Remainers off of the Tories. This ran into two problems; 1) there weren't that many Tory Remainers to begin with and b) most of them are more Tory than they are Remain. So they mostly stayed put, and they few who did leave (thank you, to those of you that did) just weren't enough. Meanwhile, the hard-right tilt scared off the Lib Dem's left-leaning supporters.

A while back I predicted they'd lose seats at this election; I'm sad to have been proved right. I am, however, grimly-amused that Swinson herself lost her seat. The other problem with Swinson's rampany anti-Corbynism was that it partially demobilised continuity!Remain. A lot of people sensed that she was more anti-Corbyn than anti-Brexit; that also implied no plausible chance of an anti-Brexit coalition. Hoenstly, given how overt and personal the vitriol between her and Corbyn got, it's hard to see how it could ever have worked. And there's no point voting for something that you know is impossible. I do wonder if maybe this switched some left-leaning people off, or perhaps even sent a few ditherers back to the Tories (under the assumption that any sort of government is better than no government, I suppose).

As for the Lib Dem campaign, it was a mess. At one point their leader went on air to deny killing squirrels (yes, seriously, this actually happened). She got all excited about thermonuclear genocide at one point, because that's not at all weird and creepy, amirite?! Then there was the bizzarity that was "skills wallets" (don't ask - basically, the sort of policy abortion that happens when a collection of wonks are locked in a room with a boxed set of the West Wing and too much cocaine).

[OK, I'll expand this one. Briefly, skills wallets were a weird continuing-adult-education idea, where you'd have a pot of money that you could access at certain ages, apparently to take some kind of training or re-education or something. Why the ages in question, why that amount of money, and why not just make adult-ed free at the point of use, were never really explained. Then there was the can of worms that was additional voluntary contributions - what I took away from this was it was the adult-ed version of pensions auto-enrollment. I spent the last four years fighting a corrupt auto-enrollment fund, so I have strong feelings here!]

As for general themes, really, the LD campaign didn't have one. There was a lot of "Corbyn, THE MONSTER, the monster, Corbyn!". And, kind of oddly, there wasn't actually that much about Brexit. It actually didn't figure very strongly in their campaign. You came away from watching it all with a) a bad taste in your mouth and b) a nagging feeling that these people didn't know what they were doing.

To be fair to them, their vote share did go up, a bit - from 7.4% in 2017 to 11.4% yesterday. Which is, uh, not exactly dizzying. And it seems to have happened in all the wrong places, so they still managed to lose seats overall.

OK, we've gawped at the piss-stained ashes of the old Liberal Party, lying in state where some eggregious family-member has dumped them, on a roadside verge in the middle of nowhere. (Perhaps some enterprising squirrel has buried a nut amongst them.) Let's move onto the other vast, soul-sucking black hole of despair, also know as the Labour and Co-operative Party.

Oh dear god. The Labour Party.

The Labour Party is Britain's perennial second party, and nothing that happened last night challenged its second-place status. Their vote share dropped by 7.8 percentage points on 2017; this is what produced the Tory landslide, essentially. The Tory vote went up a little, by about 1 point, but otherwise stayed largely flat on 2017. This time, though, Labour collapsed. They lost a swathe of seats across the country, including places like Bolsover and Blyth Valley, which were previously rock-solid.

What went wrong? Everything. Basically, the stars aligned against us, in every single way.

First of all, Labour's campaign was dogged by the antisemitism scandal. And you know what? It was bloody well right that it did. The leadership dealt with antisemitism by ... doing nothing. Anyone who tried to raise the issue instead would get "Corbyn outriders" dumping on them on Twitter. Apparently we're suddenly not allowed to be concerned about racism on the Left anymore? Frankly, fuck that.

What they should have done was a quick-and-brutal party purge, perhaps early in 2018, when there was still time. Take some initiative, get control of the narrative again, and get rid of people who are only going to shit all over your campaign. But, uh, no. That didn't happen. I'll note that the Chris Williamson show in particular went on far, far longer than it should have.

Then we come to Brexit itself. Corbyn spent three years equivocating on the issue. OK, I'll allow that in hindsight, perhaps strategic ambiguity made some sense back in 2017 (though note that they still lost that election too). It didn't by 2019. But Corbyn was still trying to stand in the middle of the road as late as the summer - and by doing so inadvertently opened up political space for the (brief) Lib Dem revival, which in turn shunted Labour onto the defensive. And as I believe Paddy Ashdown once said, if you stand in the middle of the road, you get hit by traffic.

Eventually, the Labour leadership reluctantly adopted a second referendum position, but by then the damage was done. Basically, Corbyn had convinced Leavers that he was a Remainer, and Remainers that he was a Leaver. Labour appears to have lost votes about evenly across both Remain/Leave areas(!). In a way, he actually did unite the country - just against him. Ooops.

The rest of Labour's prospectus was a mess this year. Home Office reform was de-emphasized (arbitrary deportation by the Home Office is a huge concern amongst ethnic minorities). Drugs-law reform seems to have fallen off the agenda. There was no obvious theme to the campaign - surprising given that 2017's "For the Many" theme did cut across. Instead the "offer", such as it was, appeared to be a largely-incoherent grab-bag of spending promises, some of them with very large headline numbers. (The £58 billion for the WASPI pensions thing stands out there.) A lot of people simply didn't believe the country could afford it. You don't vote for things that you fear will bankrupt you.

Also, in a way, there's a parallel to the skills wallets thing here. Labour would have been better off, I think, just doing something straightforward like saying, "If elected we'll raise disability, sickness and unemployment benefits by £x per week, and we'll get rid of the ATOS fit-for-work assesments". It would have the advantages of simplicity, clarity and a clear political theme. Instead we got this weird fiscal machine that would produce some of those effects, except via a complicated multi-part kludge (which probably wouldn't even work properly anyway). I don't know how this came about; presumably it was an after-effect of one of the party's unending internal power-struggles.

Corbyn himself is a controversial figure, from his past associations with the IRA (more vague than the press would have you believe, but still a drag on the doorstep) to the perception of socialist extremism. Again, let me note that the "but he's a Communist, because that starts with 'C' too!" stuff is disingenuous, but this perception exists, and the Party have not found any apparent way to challenge it. Honestly? If your candidate is a ship that's holed below the waterline, yes it is horribly-unfair and all the rest of it, but you do need to run someone else. (I see no point softening that punch ; while Corbyn's been leader, the whole UK has voted 4 times, at 2 general elections, 1 referendum and 1 EU Parliament election. Every time, Labour has bombed. It's hard not to see a pattern here.)

Finally, the Labour Party itself has failed to ever re-unite. It's effectively two political parties in one - or possibly three, depending on how you want to look at Momentum. On a fair day with a strong wind, the Parliamentary portion sometimes manages to move just-about-consistently, but nothing else seems to have that behaviour. Honestly I suspect a lot of people's real fear about a Labour government is not that it would be a socialist tyranny, but rather that it would implode within about six months. Labour has lost its way amongst a storm of factional infighting. To be fair to Corbyn, this isn't new. Ed Milliband's desperate tenure was derailed by internal struggles. Even the 1997-2010 period had the ongoing squabbles between Brownites and Blairites (remember them?).

So yeah, Labour's campaign was an absolute shambles this year, and the whole country is suffering now for that.

Lastly, let's have a quick look at the Green Party. Where were they this year? With Extinction Rebellion making headlines, the Amazon burning, Australia on fire and weather records being smashed everywhere - remember that day when we had summer back in February? - it should have been the Greens' year. Environmental concerns are going up in salience - people are starting to get genuinely worried. And, uh, where were they? I can't recall hearing a single peep from the Green Party during the election. Whatever it was they were doing, it seems to have completely failed to capitalise on the moment. Perhaps they should have been a bit more visible.

The only people who come out of this with any credit are the SNP. I haven't heard anything teeth-grinding about them - though, that might just be because I live in southern England.

Oh, and let's take a final kick in the teeth, shall we? If you add up the shares of the votes received by pro-second-referendum parties ... guess what it comes to? Yup: 52%, versus 48% for the pro-Brexit parties. 52/48 - aaaaargh! Yet, the 48% had a narrative that kept their vote all in one place, so they won an absolute majority at Westminster. Ours got scattered to the four winds by several separate inept campaigns and several useless party leaders. Had there been a second referendum, we could have won it. But we never got the chance, because everyone supposedly on our side were completely, perfectly, useless.

Sigh :(

#UK internal politics #diary of a disaster #We're surrounded by idiots

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ofrparker · 5 years

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✧ · ˚ . matthew daddario? nah, that’s just riley parker. you know, they’re the twenty-six year-old mechanic/musician from alderley edge, cheshire… still doesn’t ring a bell ? come on, dude ! they’re all over ME.MIAMI’S homepage. it’s impossible for them to stay off of it because of the fact that they’re super choleric & refractory. they’re not all bad though, ‘cause they can be individualistic & bold too ! you can totally tell they’re an aquarius… it’s almost scary. look, if you want to remember them, just think of a smashed guitar, band tees stained with motor oil, and taking a swig of jack daniels instead of using mouthwash in the morning and you’ll be golden. ( he/him, cis male. / sam, 22, she/her, est. )

so, this guy right here…riley ignatius parker-warrington…will throw hands if you call him anything other than parker. it’s what everyone calls him. you gotta be really special to call him riley and not immediately get decked for it. tbh most people probably think parker is his first name anyway so! moving on

parker was born to a wealthy family in a small but affluent village called alderley edge in cheshire, england. he’s the youngest of four sons so he has three older brothers.

his family, the parker-warringtons ( known more commonly as the warringtons ) are so stupid rich that it actually hurts to think about. they’re basically the british rockefellers. parker’s great x6 granddad started the family business back a couple centuries ago and nowadays they’ve got their hands in everything from business to architecture to real estate to education to oil…they own a lot of stuff. the warrington building in downtown london was completely made up just now is basically the rockefeller center of the uk.

parker spent his early years sheltered and pampered and homeschooled by tutors and nannies bc his parents never had time for him but it’s whatever he got over it really early on in life.

parker’s always been a huge troublemaker with a restless nature so his wealthy, uptight, lowkey shady af parents who are obsessed with the family’s image could never really deal with him and eventually decided to just ship him off to boarding schools all over europe, just one after the other after the other bc he kept getting kicked out lmao.

about the only thing he enjoyed about his childhood and schooling were his music lessons. he was taught to play piano, violin, and even the harp. other things like math and history and science didn’t come easily to him at all, but music? he was great at it and he’s always loved it. during his teen years while away at boarding school was when he first procured an electric guitar and learned to play. along with that, he also discovered punk music, aka the greatest thing in the entire fucking universe if you ask him. far as music goes, he’d found his calling in his early teenage years.

at school he was basically that rebellious kid in all the movies who wore doc martens with his prim & proper school uniform and carried around a pocket knife and cut class to go smoke while vandalizing school property and constantly started got into fights with all of the prissy prep school boys.

literally the only reason he actually graduated rather than flunking out was because his father was able to pull some strings aka bought his very last boarding school a whole new library wing. parker did actually consider running away a few times, but there was a part of him really reaaaaally deep down that actually enjoyed some aspects of school ( though he very strongly believes many education systems across the world need a serious overhaul and etc etc etc don’t ask him unless you want a lecture ). anyway, the moment he was done with school, he did finally skip out on…well, everything and everyone and ditched the country altogether, heading out first to seattle washington, then to los angeles, california, and then he finally settled in miami when he was twenty-two, so he’s lived there for the last four-ish years.

started his band, rabid porcupine, right after moving to miami. they’re a punk band, popular among the subculture and virtually unknown to everyone else. parker is the lead vocalist, guitarist, songwriter, overall face of the band but don’t get it twisted his whole band is important to him.

he went to school to be an auto mechanic while living in seattle, and so that’s actually his day job. his parents have threatened to cut him off many times and though they haven’t done it, parker has sorta cut himself off and chosen to be self-sufficient. he relies solely on the money he makes from his job and from playing in the band to support himself because he wants to be independent and he doesn’t want his family to be able to say that they gave him anything.

fun facts !

he hasn’t been home in like six / seven years but he still has the heaviest most posh british accent you will ever hear in your life + he knows he’s fulfilling a stereotype here but he doesn’t care he fuckin loves tea

his three older brothers are named sebastian, nikolai, & rian. he doesn’t get along with any of them but by far he has the worst relationship with rian, his identical twin who’s a few minutes older. unlike most stereotypical twins they’ve literally never been in sync and have never gotten along

most people think that he’s a jerk bc he’s incredibly standoffish and temperamental but he’s actually…not that bad? like he’s sure he’s permanently grumpy but he also holds the door open for people and says thank you to janitors and probably helps old ladies across the street and would literally rather die than be rude to wait staff in a restaurant

often struggles with verbalizing / explaining his emotions.

very observant and good at reading people

basically the walking talking rl embodiment of the jerk with a heart of gold trope.

knows he’s not the easiest person to befriend but if you are his friend, then he’s gonna be loyal af, the realest ride or die of all time

however, he tends to take the tough love route when he’s trying to help someone out. like just bc you’re his friend he’s not gonna coddle you bc you’re upset he’s gonna tell you how to how to deal with your problems & emotions

which is funny bc lmao he’s angry af 1000% of the time. will throw hands anytime anywhere

also took a lot of music lessons back in the day. he’s actually a very talented pianist who probably could’ve gone on to play professionally if he stuck with it but nah. he likes the guitar. you’ll probs never catch him playing the piano which is a shame bc he honestly is a beautiful pianist :/

he has a motorcycle which pretty much built it himself from scratch and it’s just…it’s literally his child ok he will freak if you so much as lay a hand on his motorcycle ok /f r e a k/ like don’t even look at it the wrong way

feminist af

parker is grumpy and angry and standoffish but look he really is and really tries to be a decent guy. anyone who knows him well would see that very clearly and honestly, that’s probably why they stick around even though he can be difficult.

#ritzyintros #posting for reference!

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objectivesubjectivity · 5 years

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Second Chances: “A” Albums

The following are “A” albums I wanted to give another shot at Top 100 Condenterdom and/or favorite “A” albums of my peers. This is their last chance to continue on in the quest.

The Beatles - Abbey Road

For what it’s worth, my mom was an avid Beatles fan and procured most of their records in her teenage years. However, a handful of these albums were met with a sharpie from her sister who decided, if her name was on the item, it was hers. I’m pretty sure Abbey Road was one of those albums because I don’t remember seeing it on our record shelves growing up. Perhaps that is one of the reasons I don’t find it to be, as a facebook friend once commented, “not so much an album as it is a magical ray of sunlight dropped from heaven to prove that perfection is possible.” Don’t get me wrong, it’s a very good album with very good songs and a killer ending opus, I just find it flawed in ways I don’t have the history to overlook.

And this brings up a larger conversation about subjectivity and objectivity. I have long held the belief that the more people agree upon a certain opinion, the blurrier the line becomes between subjective and objective. “Graceland” being a “good” album is nearly an objective fact. Motown at a wedding party: “good.” the final season of Game of Thrones: “bad.” These are purely subjective takes that have found enough consensus to almost become objectively true. But how we land on that subjectivity in the first place makes a difference. And, for my money, it seems to be a combination of personal history and social influence.

Think about it: Most of the opinions on the Beatles I come across stem from a deep history with the band. It helps that plenty of my peer group had parents who grew up in the hayday of Beatlemania and that adoration has filtered down through the generations. One might wonder, as Danny Boyle recently did, if one wasn’t to grow up on the fab-four, and was instead introduced to them much later in life, would this same reverence take hold? Or would they go down the Ben Shapiro “overrated” route?

And then there’s social influence. The more people that subscribe to a similar opinion, the wider that net becomes and the easier it is to access, often with less work. Take Nickleback for instance. I would put money down that most people who equate that band with the anti-Christ haven’t listened to more than a handful of hits. The general consensus is that Nickleback is “bad,” and so it’s much easier to stick to that opinion than to do the work necessary in actually forming it for yourself. Case in point: I personally received quite a bit of social media scorn for expressing enjoyment of Puddle of Mudd’s “Come Clean” (sorry, it’s an enjoyable listen).

So back to Abbey Road. Clearly, in the musical world, there is consensus regarding this particular album (although even the Pitchfork 10/10 review doesn’t understand the appeal of “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)”), which makes my subjective opinion stick out like a sore thumb. And that sore thumb feels immense pressure from the musical zeitgeist to heal itself and become part of the fold. It is much easier to plop down in the wide, comfortable hammock of belief than to bear the weight of the side-eye, scoffs, and shame when you choose the stubborn old rocking chair.

But I’m choosing to do the work on my opinions. Over 3 years worth of work. And objectively, I’m sticking to my subjectivity and leaving Abbey Road off the list.

R.E.M. - Accelerate

“Accelerate” initially jumped out at me because it accomplishes a rare feat: it actually sounds like a return to form. Mind you, the form it’s returning to is more “Monster” than “Murmur” but it’s light years away from “Around the Sun,” and to call that a welcome change would be a massive understatement. But it’s also light years away from “Automatic for the People” and “Life’s Rich Pageant.” And seeing that the latter didn’t make the cut the first time around, there’s no way this album’s gonna make it either.

U2 - Achtung Baby

This is a recent pick up and only got the second listen because a friend ranked it as one of their top “A” albums. In fact, I’ve only recently acquired any U2 albums at all. I don’t think I’ve spent enough time with them on the whole to make an opinion on which one of their albums I like the most and whether or not it belongs on this list.

Neil Young - After the Gold Rush

If you were to ask me, going into this week, what album had the highest likelihood of landing a spot on the list, I would have told you this one. I had only listened to it once (I grabbed a copy of it mid-way through phase one) but it made an immediate impression upon me and I was eagerly awaiting a second listen. So it came as a surprise that I was left feeling underwhelmed upon a second spin.

But then I happened to be at a friend’s party on Saturday and this friend put me in charge of choosing a record to play. There was a stack left on top of a speaker and hanging out underneath a stack of reggae compilations and a dusty copy of “Graceland,” there it was.

Perhaps I should add fate to that “history + social influence = subjectivity” equation because, after one more listen this morning, the contender list bumped back up to 119 again. Congrats, Neil.

Sufjan Stevens - The Age of Adz

This is a really good example of how loose and free I was at the start of this journey. This album is far too overwrought to warrant a possible Top 100 slot and yet, I dabbled with that thought way back in 2016. Also, he’s still got two albums on the contender list, so there’s no big loss here.

fun. - Aim and Ignite

This album is a great example of what happens when there are no wrong answers and that’s probably why it struck me so hard the first go around. But while that limitlessness brings about ample moments of unexpected brilliance, it also can feel like no one’s really helming the ship and there are only so many times I can find joy in getting lost.

Steely Dan - Aja

Ultimately, it’s too jazzy for me, but I don’t regret giving it another solid listen. And I love me some “Peg.”

Grateful Dead - American Beauty

This was a tough one. On the one hand, these are 10 well-crafted tunes that clock in at a respectable 42 minutes and make for a very comfortable (and comforting) ride. On the other hand, they’re played with a looseness and devil-may-care attitude that, honestly, feels a bit disrespectful. But then again, I’m not a dead head; I’ve never quite understood the thrill of a 10 (20? 30?) minute solo. And to someone who lives for those meandering discoveries, perhaps the sloppiness is as necessary as the thoughtful arrangement. Perhaps those moments of infallibility make it all the more human and endearing. “American Beauty,” is staying off the list for now but it’s probably not the last time I’ll give it a good listen on this quest.

Rancid - ...And Out Come the Wolves

There are only so many ways you can go from the 1 to the 4 or the 5. And the more I listen to this album, the more that sentiment rings true.

OutKast - ATLiens & Aquemini

It may be a couple years before I get to “Stankonia,” the OutKast album currently on the Top 100 Contender list, but I cannot listen to these albums without thinking about its strange and circuitous path and how that keeps its 24(!) tracks fresh. Both “ATLiens” and “Aquemini,” are stunningly forward thinking and ambitious, but their journeys’ aren’t nearly as thrilling or strange as “Stankonia.” And I can’t seem to get over that hump.

The Jimi Hendrix Experience - Are You Experienced

I don’t do enough drugs for this to make the list.

It’s also not fair to judge this album solely on the US version, seeing that the track listing on the UK one is vastly different. But both contain “Third Stone from the Sun.” And I just can’t dig it man.

What I listened to last week:

Top 100 contenders in bold.

The Beatles - Abbey Road

R.E.M. - Accelerate

U2 - Achtung Baby

Neil Young - After the Gold Rush

Sufjan Stevens - The Age of Adz

fun. - Aim and Ignite

Steely Dan - Aja

Grateful Dead - American Beauty

Rancid - ...And Out Come the Wolves

OutKast - Aquemini

The Jimi Hendrix Experience - Are You Experienced

OutKast - ATLiens

Albums listened to in total: 2,283

Top 100 Contenders: 119

Next week’s album: Aimee Mann - Bachelor No. 2 (Or, The Last Remains of the Dodo)

Think I missed an album? Challenge me! The list is alphabetical by letter.

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darnara-vas-rayya · 6 years

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Emergency Situation.

Hello all I do not enjoy writing this journal, in all honesty im disgusted. But this is a serious situation. TLDR: Dad's a fucking ass, shitton of debt he's in, if anyone can spare anything...i literally beg of you, even if its 50cents! Anything your willing to safely give to go towards food, electricity and gas meters can be done here; paypal.me/DarNara If you want something tangible in exchange for your money then please see below. If anyone wants to discuss this in private, my Discord is Dar'Nara#4818 My unending thanks to those who have already helped, i have made sure its been used wisely to get nessecary items (Food, electricity and gas meter top-ups etc...), so thank you very much! ;-; =================== The long version; An emergency situation has arisen. As some of you who i talk to regular will know, my dad has been an absolute asshole and got himself into huge sums of debt that he clearly has no plan to pay off. He's maxed out all his accounts, and almost dragged my mum down with him and had her in debt too. When i found out about this, i tried to help them both out. £3000 or so i used between them both and now mum is back in the green, accounts suspended whilst her credit rating goes back up and she gets things in order. Dad was in the green at least, still in debt, but not over-limit but now he's just spent what he was given and is back in the red. Waaaay in the red. >_< The emergency situation here is that, because he has done this there is now little to no disposable income for even the basics, like food. Dad has quite proudly said he will tell debt collectors 'he doesnt live here'. I cannot comprehend this logic. It is on a whole other level of stupid. From him saying that alone, after i helped him, i definetely got burned here and so would my mum have been too as he evidently doesnt even want to pay this debt off and is quite happy to spend everything and try and tell the law that 'he doesnt live here'. I've had a long chat with my mum about dads actions and made sure that when her accounts are un-blocked that she doesnt let him anywhere near them. His debt total? Near £10,000 now. Over 5 or more credit cards and a few catalog accounts. All likely with 49.9+% interest. And thats just what we know about! All over-limit and demanding their money immediately. This is an absolute clusterfuck and i'm at wits end here. Dad's been getting final notice calls and letters and we're at risk of having our stuff taken away by debt collectors! I've recently been made aware that i can get around that so long as i can prove whats mine and my mums, but what we wont get around is if the creditors want to take the house! Which they can! I've tried going through official channels, reporting this and hoping to at least get his ability to keep getting credit blocked outright as clearly he is a risk but nobody wants to listen yet clearly places are still readilly borrowing to him. His credit score i am 99% sure is <100. Not even a shady payday loan company would take that on surely?! But someone is.... I am out of money i can safely provide to keep things going. So here i am. Having to beg for money so we can keep the lights on and i can get food for everyone because dad sure as hell isnt buying it. He's also made it very clear that he wont be contributing anything more than £35/month to the electricity meter.....we go through about £59/week and he says if it gets shut off that he just doesnt care. And, i dont even know where he's getting this £35 either or how he's paying other bills like the internet and water bills, or his own phonebill. Though in all likelihood, he probably isnt. If your willing to give anything, doesnt matter if its just 50cents, it is highly appreciated and you can use this link; paypal.me/DarNara For those of you whom have already helped, you have my undying and unending thanks and appreciation. It really does mean alot and will have helped in some way! I feel so horrible about all this, you dont exactly expect your own father to do stuff like this. And as much as i'd like to just up and leave. I cannot. In the UK thats called making yourself 'intentionally homeless' since im not being 'physically abused'. I would not qualify for emergency housing and receive no aid from the local Council or police. Family who know about this have all taken a dim view on this but have said they're not going to help and i dont expect friends to put me up long term either. I do also have commitments to my mum and my sister who live here as well so just ditching them is not really an option and would only cause further issues. Anything given will be put in the following priority order. Food, then electricity meter, then gas meter (both are prepaid meters we use for electricity and gas/hot water meaning that money gets put onto a special card thing at a shop, it then has to go into the meter and credit gets added to it that gets used as you use the service its providing), then trying to save anything else incase any other shitty problem arises here. Again im really sorry to be asking at all, but this is such a bitch of a situation. If anyone wants something tangible for any money they give, i have got some stuff to sell in order to try help with this situation and will be happy to exchange this for money. The following things are available; 1.) Apple MacBook Pro - £200 (2012 model, 256GB Samsung SSD + 500GB hard disk - few dents around casing but nothing that affects performance - Comes with charger (UK plug)) 2.) LS240 SuperDisk Drive £55 (new) or £30 (used) (2 of these, one is brand new in box - Each will come with 1x new sealed disk to use with it) 3.) Official Mass Effect 3 signed Prothean Lithograph (61/500) - £50 (no frame) or £65 (with frame) 4 ) Official Mass Effect 3 signed Prothean Battle Lithograph (89/500) - £50 (no frame) or £65 (with frame) 5.) Official Mass Effect 3 signed Anderson Lithograph (103/500) - £60 (no frame) or £75 (with frame) 6.) Official Mass Effect 3 Reaper Attack Lithograph (44/500) - £60 (no frame) or £75 (with frame) 7.) Iomega Jaz 2GB Drive + 1 2GB cartridge + SCSI cable - £50 8.) Iomega REV Drive 35GB (Have 2 of these, 1 is Firewire connection and the other is IDE/ATAPI) - £50/each + 1 35GB cartridge with each drive. 9.) Various old computer parts - £30 for whole box (500GB-1TBhard disks, cables, etc...whole mix of things. Cannot garuntee working however. Just thrown into box and left.) If anyone wants any of these, kindly send me a private message and lets arrange something. Please be aware that shipping IN the UK is £11 via Special Delivery (no exceptions). Shipping OUTSIDE the UK - This STARTS at £19 and can go up from there. I will not send anything un-tracked.

#Some fucking humans are just intolerably stupid. I wish i could just leave.

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the-colony-roleplay · 6 years

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CAELAN “KIP” WHITMER | TWENTY ONE; SURVIVOR

House: Delma Security Class: 3 Status: Infected - Empatheia

HISTORY

Smart, reserved, and somewhat of a loner due to his preference to video games and weekends with icecream and sweatpants, over young people and socializing, Caelan kept mostly out of trouble. He also kept mostly off the radar of the majority of his grade, because he didn’t go out of his way to make friends at school, and they didn’t go out of their way to know him. He spent as little time on school grounds as possible, slipping into his desk just before the bell rang, and being virtually out the door the instant the final one went at three.

He spent most of his time with his best friend, Louis, who he grew up with but ended up going to a different high school, when Caelan’s parents decided to put him in a program for more advanced learners. Louis, who was at best, an overwhelmingly average student, went to the school across town.

Caelan ended up skipping eighth grade, (his second jump, as he’d skipped fourth grade as well) which only served to further separate him from his peers, because the kids his age weren’t that interested in talking to the brainy kid who ‘probably thought he was better than them’ and the older kids’ perception of him wasn’t much better. His parents told him that they probably just felt threatened by someone who was younger and doing better in the school work than they were, but Caelan was pretty sure they were just trying not to trip over him. He was still only about 5'3 at the time, and they were all fucking trees who played basketball. Which he ultimately resented because basketball was just about the only sport he was ever interested in, but he’d always been too short to play.

To be honest, Caelan wasn’t even convinced he was that smart. He still hated history, and had to work to remember all those stupid dates and names and titles, and he was pretty sure the only thing different about him was that he fucking tried. Maybe because he cared. But he wasn’t even sure he cared that much, to be honest. It was more to do with boredom.

But what he was good at, was computers. By the age of fourteen he could troubleshoot most of his father’s office technical problems, and had removed virus’ from his mother’s laptop at least a dozen times. Even his younger sister had begged him to ‘jail break’ her phone, which he did, even though she was ten and he was ninety percent sure she didn’t even know what 'jail break’ meant.

His spare time usually involved one of three things (and around the time he turned sixteen, jacking off probably could’ve been considered a fourth, because hel-LO hormones): playing video games, shooting hoops with Louis in his driveway, and creating phone apps. Because he’d realized, by the time he was in Junior year, that between his technical understanding and Louis’ creativity, they were something of a dream team.

And that, in an essence, became their goal. They would graduate high school, and figure out how to start their own business making games and apps and selling them to big companies—hopefully one day get hired on by EB Games or something.

As Caelan got older, he became less shy, (which he still attributes to his long-awaited growth spurt that caught him up to the rest of the guys in his grade) but not necessarily any more social. He did speak up more in class, though it was frequently drawling and sarcastic, and had the class chuckling and wondering when the brainy dweeb had gotten funny.

But at the very beginning of his twelfth grade, he was expelled for sleeping with his Chemistry T.A.

Of course, the news came as a shock to his family, because to their knowledge Caelan had never been a reckless type, but the older he got, the more bored he became—with school, with homework, with the general curriculum—and he discovered that sex was a brilliant alternative to monotony.

After that, three things happened that ultimately changed Caelan’s life. The first, was that in first year university at UofT, he was awarded a one year internship with EB Games in game creation, which would take London, Ontario born Caelan, on his first cross Atlantic trip to London, England.

The second thing that happened, was two weeks into his internship, and while he was having the time of his life in the UK, Louis died suddenly. They later found out it was due to a brain tumor, which was even more devastating to his family, as he’d been complaining about headaches but everyone had assumed it’d been thanks to the amount of time he spent in front of a computer screen.

The third, was after Caelan returned to England from Louis’ funeral, he was fired. Something had surfaced about the reason behind his expulsion from his first high school, and apparently his manager was an intolerant jackass.

Caelan was lost. Alone in a foreign country, his closest friend in the world dead, he struggled to find his center. Wrecked, he couldn’t bring himself to tell his parents about what had happened right away, but he knew his money would only last him so long. He still hadn’t told them when he went back to the office a week later to pick up his last paycheck and to clear out what was left of his things. He wondered how long he could last eating kraft dinner and hot dogs.

Soon though, money became a non-issue.

KIP TODAY

Caelan became Kip after D-Day. It’d been a nickname Louis had had for him, and even his mother had called him when he was a kid, and when the blinking strangers who would later become his first clan asked him, the name had just popped out. Apparently he’d been through too much to ever go back to his old name properly. Maybe he was trying to leave the pain behind.

To this day, he’s certain it hadn’t worked.

He knows, because he’s angrier than he ever used to be. More volatile and violent. Developing his infection certainly hadn’t helped either. He’d had enough of his own issues to deal with, before having to worry about everyone else’s. But now he’s trying to outrun demons above and beyond his own, and he’d lashed out against clan members more than once. Then, once he was taken in at Colony 4, at authority members also, which turned out to be considerably worse. In fact, that’s what had him shipped off here with one of the transfers just days before the turn over of the New Wave. He’d gotten in one too many brawls and Col4 Officials had grown tired of dealing with his emotional instability.

He arrived at Colony 22 only a few days before the Reformists did, and so he was still brand new when everything turned on its head, and he still has a lot of catching up to do. He doesn’t know much about how this place runs, compared to the last, but what he does know, is that the Reformist Elites are dicks.

In some ways, Kip is both very similar to how he used to be, and very different. On the exterior, he’s confident, sassy, and mischievous, with a sarcastic tongue and a great sense of comedic timing. He gets along alright with others most of the time, but he remains somewhat guarded and his swaggering shell is what protects the part of him that’s fragile. He’s much better in social situations than he used to be, but he still recharges most effectively when he’s on his own, or playing ancient video games in the lounge with a friend, as he’s more himself one on one than he is in groups.

CLOSED FC

RELATED BIOS: SIOBHAN ‘VON’ WHITMER

#tom holland #literate rp #abilities rp #mutant rp #original rp #delma #sc3 #empatheia #caelan whitmer #caelan kip whitmer #closed fc

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stevetervet · 4 years

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Tasmania

Marketing executives of Australia, I bring good news. Your advertisement campaigns are working on my five-year-old daughter. Ivy only needs to hear the words “Did someone say KFC?” and she’ll instantly launch into a chorus of I Love It by Icona Pop. When asked what she hoped would happen in 2021, she didn’t wish for anything existential or even material, but rather answered: “That I get to watch Holey Moley.” But there’s one brand which stands out among the rest. We’ll pull up behind a ute at the traffic lights and hear from the back seat those immortal words: “Oh, what a feeling - Toyota.”

And there were certainly plenty of those moments as we started the new year with a road trip around the island state of Tasmania - 240km south of the mainland across the heaving Bass Strait. Right until the last moment, it looked like the trip might be scuppered by COVID as clusters in Sydney and Melbourne prompted other states to shut their borders but on this occasion, we were in the right place at the right time and the Apple Isle lay before us.

Needless to say, there were a few raised eyebrows along the way when we declared we had travelled from New South Wales - at one point we were even removed from a queue and had to answer further questions from management before gaining entry - but Tassie’s welcome couldn’t have been warmer. The people we met were so friendly and as for the place: well, where do you start?

At the beginning, I suppose, and the absolutely stunning Cataract Gorge in Launceston. Photographs simply can’t do its forested cliffs, glassy lake and ancient boulders justice and the temperature of the public swimming pool in the centre of the gorge took our breath away for a second time as Rachel wisely watched on with the towels poolside. We emerged from the water shivering - and with fellow tourists peering down bemused from the chairlift above - but very much refreshed.

Launceston, the second-largest city in Tasmania, hadn’t been forecast as one of the trip’s highlights but it proved to have been rather under-sold. The macaque monkeys (behind glass) in City Park, the windswept Tamar Island Wetlands and the hands-on Queen Victoria Museum were free attractions you’d pay good money to see elsewhere and Riverbend Park, in the city centre, boasts the best children’s playground I’ve ever seen. It’s no exaggeration to say Ivy would have spent all day there, so vast and varied is the site. Peering down over the park are four huge grain silos, now converted into a plush hotel with a fancy restaurant on ground level. Pricey, yes, but quality grub.

When you’ve been to Peppa Pig World, the bar for any other ‘world’ is set pretty high but where Seahorse World in the Tamar Valley might have been lacking Grandpa Pig’s Little Train, it compensated with a genuinely interesting tour of the tanks and even a chance to hold a little seahorse. From this breeding centre on the banks of the Tamar, seahorses are shipped to aquariums all around the world so if you’ve ever seen one, it probably came from there.

Our four nights in town were spent above a pub - better than it sounds or than we thought when we first pulled up - but there was a change of pace when we hit the east coast.

We quickly realised the weather in Tasmania can change almost as quickly as Boris Johnson’s COVID response and so it was that we huddled on a beach somewhere along the Bay of Fires eating our picnic lunch wrapped in jumpers and waterproofs as some pretty mean waves pounded the white sand. Even us crazy northern hemisphere types weren’t about to try swimming here.

Conditions at our east coast base were more clement, and naturally we hit the pool hard but also made full use of the other sports facilities - putting green, table tennis and basketball court to name but a few. Ivy’s ping-pong skills have improved exponentially since the turn of the year and some of our rallies were even worthy of the name. But every now and then comes a wild shot from the other end of the table which forces you to take evasive action as if facing a Pat Cummins bouncer.

Down the coast we drove, into the spectacular Freycinet National Park where the views across to Wineglass Bay are postcard-perfect. Peer over the edge and it’s a sheer drop to the rocks and waves below, look down at your feet and lizards are scurrying for cover. Disaster was averted at the last minute when the family parked next to us managed to retrieve the stuffed toy whose temporary loss had sent a little girl into floods of tears. What looked like a little elephant had in fact only been dropped a few yards from the car park at the top of the cliffs.

Swansea was a handy stopping point after that - a bit different to its Welsh namesake - but it was now all about the long run into Hobart. Of all the driving we did in Tasmania, less than 5% would have been straight and flat at the same time and those sweeping bends and undulations were never more evident than on the Tasman Highway which hugged rock faces and followed the bends of the Prosser River on the challenging and invigorating approach to the state’s capital.

Hobart, with a population of 250,000 or so, must be the hilliest city I’ve ever visited. There were cars parked at angles that didn’t look natural and even a walk to the closest intersection could be enough to raise a sweat.

But on flat ground a stone’s throw from the waterfront, the Salamanca Market truly showcases Hobart in its best light every Saturday. From tourist tat and cuddly toys to ornate wood carvings and local farm produce, there’s something to lighten everyone’s wallet although by far the longest queues were at the coffee vans. Classic Australia. The pandemic has forced Salamanca to trim its stall numbers and patron capacity, although social distancing in a market is about as likely as it is on the London Underground. However, in a part of the world which is totally COVID-free at the time of writing, mingling in a Tasmanian crowd carries none of the worries it would elsewhere.

Our thoughts were constantly drawn back to the UK not only by the daily news bulletins - reporting daily infection rates higher than Australia has faced in 12 months - but also its role in shaping Tasmania as we know it today. Nowhere is that more evident than Port Arthur, the former penal settlement where thousands of convicts were shipped in the 1800s for crimes ranging from cheese theft to murder. The remains of the penitentiary and neighbouring prison buildings are beautiful; their stories by comparison quite chilling and utterly thought-provoking as to the physical treatment and mental disintegration of so many men, young and old, having been extracted from their homeland with no hope of ever returning. Walking around the site makes you acutely aware of your liberty, even more so in the current climate.

You see, for all the places we visited in Tasmania, for all the experiences, the food tasted and selfies taken, it was simply the freedom to choose and to move which we had to be most thankful for. With the majority of our friends and family locked down on the other side of the world, doing it tougher than ever, there was absolutely nothing about our trip to take for granted.

It’s said Australia is the lucky country, and that rings true to an extent, although political choices have more to do with the state of play around the world than luck. Australia’s consistently tough stance on international arrivals during the pandemic has been a huge factor in keeping the COVID numbers here so low. Two week in hotel quarantine, at your own expense, is mandatory. Around the corner from where we were staying in Hobart was one such hotel with two soldiers guarding each door. Rules are rules here and they don’t muck about. On the one hand, it’s reassuring that we are in such a safe corner of the world right now - but what about getting back to England to see those loved ones again? When will a journey of that nature be feasible and, more to the point, when will Australia relax its stance to the point where we know we can make a ‘normal’ re-entry to the place we now call home? Forget the quarantine, simply getting a plane ticket is like finding a needle in a haystack. We hope to see you all again soon, we really do, but it's just impossible to put a date on that happening.

Meanwhile, sun-kissed Hobart looked a picture from the top of Mount Wellington and equally from the water as we took a ferry to MONA (the Museum of Old and New Art). The exhibits here were all to an incredibly high specification but often weird for the sake of being weird. More rewarding was the time we spent outside in the grounds, watching a band on stage while chowing down on chicken burgers (in the case of the meat-eating members of the family).

Another ferry carried us and the car to Bruny Island, where the pendulum of Tasmanian weather swung like never before. One minute we were slithering along muddy unsealed roads in search of the Cape Bruny Lighthouse (where the winds were too strong to reach the top of the walking track), the next emerging into warm sunlight at the Truganini Memorial overlooking the ‘Neck’ - a narrow spit of land joining the north and south parts of the island.

After the best part of a week in and around Hobart, it was nice to put the hammer down and cruise through the straw-coloured Midlands on the way north. A long line of red bricks running the length of the high street in Campbell Town bore the names (and crimes) or convicts who had not even survived the epic voyage to Australia, dying in transit. There were reminders everywhere of Tasmania’s convict past; less so the treatment of its Indigenous people.

While we had already been exposed to the island’s varying landscapes and weather patterns, entering Cradle Mountain-Lake St Clair National Park can only be likened to walking through the wardrobe into Narnia. Gone was anything even resembling summer as harsh alpine vegetation stood out against steely skies, with a cold wind blowing down the back of the neck in the way that makes you instantly reach for hooded tops. The steep climbs and harpin bends were all worth it just to witness the spectacle at altitude approaching 1,000 metres above sea level. “It’s due to snow the day after tomorrow” said the girl behind the Visitor Centre counter as she handed over our shuttle bus tickets. You could spend days bushwalking around Cradle Mountain, if you like that sort of thing, whereas we chose the hop- on-hop-off approach and still copped a fair pasting from the wind, rain - and UV. The chance to see Tasmanian devils and quolls up close, as well as a wombat in the car park, further added to the experience.

Back through the wardrobe into summer, or at least a north coast variant of it, and the final stop on our tour at tiny-but-picturesque Boat Harbour Beach. With water so clear you could almost count the grains of sand on the bottom, and rock pools and caves to explore every time the tide flowed out, the beach in itself might have fully sustained our four-day stay had the temperature been a smidgen higher.

As it was, we ventured slightly further afield to The Nut at Stanley (where one of the information boards mused ‘when is a nut not a nut?’ - an important consideration for allergy sufferers), Sisters Beach (horizontal rain although not unpleasant) and to Burnie one night to see Little Penguins emerge from the sea and return to their burrows. In rather less salubrious surroundings than the corresponding experience on Phillip Island, the night sky was pierced by the luminescent green glow from a nearby BP filling station. David Attenborough meets Alan Partridge, if you will.

Soon enough, those penguins would be heading back into the Bass Strait and so it was for us, boarding the Spirit of Tasmania for our overnight crossing which marked the end of our Tassie adventure. Housed in a cabin at the extreme bow of the vessel, our plunging path through a sea that was even choppier than normal felt like taking a ride in a washing machine being hit with cannon fire, so loud was the metallic crash of the hull against the waves every few seconds.

So the mouth of Port Phillip Bay had never looked more welcoming and it was a relief to set foot - or rather, wheels - on terra firma back in Melbourne.

But what a journey. In the land that time forgot, the extraordinary diversity and natural beauty of this island have carved out unforgettable memories. The devil is in the detail and I’ve no doubt we’ve only scratched the surface.

Oh, what a feeling - Tasmania.

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the-chaotic-neutral · 6 years

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I’m so unprepared this year! Due to a lot going on in life, I didn’t have time to watch either of the semi-finals or even pregame with the official music videos! So that means I’m going into the finals 100% cold. I feel both unprepared and excited. I haven’t gone into finals without research and preconceived judgement before. I have no idea what each country’s songs will be like or what style their stage shows may take.

So here’s to art, entertainment, and surprises! 🥂

Opening performance by TK. Last year’s winner, Salvador Sobral, championed authenticity (sometimes to the ire of other contestants and fans) and it feels like

I’m watching the US broadcast this year, which is presented by Logo and hosted by Ross Mathews and Shangela. Since Eurovision is still relatively new to the USA, and very new to Shangela, this broadcast is a perfect entry for American viewers. Ross explains the basics along with the idea of the Big 5[foot]The Big 5 are the countries that have contributed the most amount of money to Eurovision which guarantees them a spot in the finals without competing in either night of semi-finals. They are [/foot]. It’s also available as a live stream on Logo’s Youtube channel regardless of your TV package, so it’s accessible to literally anyone to watch.

01. Ukraine – Mélovin “Under the Ladder” A vampire rises. The song isn’t great, and the performance suddenly loses some of its exoticism when it becomes apparent that he’s singing in muddled English and not Ukrainian. It gains some back when his entire set catches on fire (on purpose).

02. Spain – Amaia & Alfred “Tu canción”

Super cute! Simple staging and great chemistry between these two makes this performance so damn endearing! But they’re really early and not much of a spectacle, so I worry they’ll get buried by later performances.

03. Slovenia – Lea Sirk “Hvala, ne!” She’s trying to throw down tough and maybe come off like Pink, but that’s hard when she’s got a huge, goofy grin on the whole time.

04. Lithuania – Ieva Zasimauskaitė “When We’re Old” A slow, sweet ballad with holograms. Holograms can be a real risk in a show. It can be a neat effect, like when Australia used it for a Minority Report computer interface, and it can be the show-stealer, like when it’s a nude clone with wolves. This came of as middling, especially because she seemed to reign in her own vocals. It felt more like a verse of a song rather than a full performance.

05. Austria – Cesár Sampson “Nobody but You” Great job utilizing the stage and lighting as a single performer, but this song is not up for the job.

06. Estonia – Elina Nechayeva “La forza” Estonia has a history of visually impressive performances, and this is not a disappointment. With this, the world comes one step closer to the Diva from The Fifth Element. Her voice is great and her dress is all projection mapping! This is how you make a strong impression while pushing the vocals to the forefront.

07. Norway – Alexander Rybak “That’s How You Write a Song” Shoobidoo dap dap, shoobay doop hay, that’s how you write a song.

No it’s not. This an adorable performance with incredibly inaccurate instructions on song writing. Major props on playing the violin, and the whole thing is really endearing, but I think it’s too breezy to stick in this competition.

08. Portugal – Cláudia Pascoal[h] “O jardim” This is the home team, the current champions, so they have a lot to live up to. I don’t know if it’s authentic enough for Sobral but I’m loving it.

Anyone else get a total Lola vibe (from Degrassi) from her? These are not the same person.

09. United Kingdom – SuRie “Storm” I’m getting Annie Lennox redux. Her song is not the Tim Minchin song, disappointingly, but this is one of the best UK contestants in years. Many of the Big 5 countries, which can go straight to the finals, seem to phone it in or at least submit very generic pop. This is the first time I can remember actually enjoying the UK contestant.

10. Serbia – Sanja Ilić & Balkanika “Nova deca” (Нова деца) Amazons and the grim specter of death! And discotheque! Unfortunately the visuals are the best part of this group. Their song is meh and I don’t think I’ll even be able to remember what they sounded like the next morning.

11. Germany – Michael Schulte “You Let Me Walk Alone” Really touching, personal ballad. The stylized screen show behind him came off as far more effective than the holograms. I was really surprised at how honestly the whole thing came off touching. The song and accompanying performance are all about Schulte losing his father, and that personal connection does a lot to elevate this from just another pop ballad to a standout act. Also Schulte looks like Philippe and I had a son together, so I am very proud of my boy.

12. Albania – Eugent Bushpepa “Mall” This is clearly a grunge or metal band performing their first ballad before they go soft. Okay song, but could have been more specific to Albania or the band performing it or, well, more memorable in any way. And the disconnect between the look and the sound is jarring, disappointing, and lackluster.

13. France – Madame Monsieur “Mercy” Velcome to Sprokets. Just a reminder that this isn’t Germany’s submission. Okay, enough about their look. There’s a fundamental problem with this song here, though the song itself is good. It’s a really good song about real life baby born on a ship of refugees fleeing to Europe. This song would have been great on an album, but in a music and performance competition the nuances get smoothed out and the striking visuals take, no pun intended, center stage. I’ll probably come back to them as a band, but think that they’ll be lost when the voting starts.

14. Czech Republic – Mikolas Josef “Lie to Me” The year is 1994. The soundtrack is The Mask. The costume is Minkus from Boy Meets World. The inspiration is Fresh Prince of Bel Air. The performer was having fun, so I guess that’s nice. And that’s really all I can say about it.

15. Denmark – Rasmussen “Higher Ground” Do you like vikings? Do you like Silent Bob? Do you like when people take a theme (in this case, All Aboard) 100% literally? Well, have I got the group for you!

16. Australia – Jessica Mauboy “We Got Love” And the Bland Award goes to… The only words I can think of to describe this is “Europop” and “gyrations”. There’s nothing more to say.

17. Finland – Saara Aalto “Monsters” The remix of this song could be a club hit, but not this version. As it is now, there’s not enough bass or and energy for a club and not enough complexity for a pop hit.

18. Bulgaria – Equinox “Bones” I can’t be the only one that sees this guy and thinks black Jack Black.

The song itself was not all that great, but as a group their voices sounded great together. Similar to France, I’m not a fan of this one but I am intrigued enough to keep an ear out for the rest of their singles.

19. Moldova – DoReDoS “My Lucky Day” They’re introduced as a folk-pop group but… well, that must mean something else in Moldova. They have the presentation of a Laugh-In skit and the emotional range of a Bar Mitzvah DJ team. Hard pass.

20. Sweden – Benjamin Ingrosso “Dance You Off”

SCENE I. A desert place

Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches

First witch

Performance of Bieber

Second witch

Face of Ephron

Third witch

Song of Timberlake

I’m assuming that’s how this performer was summoned. An amalgam of safe bets, it’s no surprise that the song is generic yet appealing. Coupled with a great use of stage lighting, I don’t really like this one but I’m betting it’ll be a contender.

21. Hungary – AWS “Viszlát nyár” Yet another country who’s music submission seems to be off by a decade or so. The look screams Fall Out Boy but the music is more of a mid to late 90s pop metal. Whatever their inspiration, I spent way too much time trying to remember what forgettable bands they reminded me of and had no time to actually pay attention to them.

22. Israel – Netta “Toy” Yasss! Netta! And then… Okay, so I am very much not crazy about the Asian appropriation, but I’m here for everything else. The whole kimono and maneki-neko motif is just not sitting right. Please, you can do but. But her amazing sneer, the bizarre incorporation of the chicken dance, and the dance-able Tel Aviv music is killing it! Also, it’s great to see my homeland with something that’s not some punchable dude-bros on a beach.

23. Netherlands – Waylon “Outlaw in ‘Em” When you think of the Netherlands, what comes to mind? High taxes? State supplied health care and other services? How about Ted Nugent tributes and awkward krumping? Well, it will from now on.

24. Ireland – Ryan O’Shaughnessy “Together” This is the reason that China lost the finale broadcast rights. The musicians are recreating the Broadway show Once while a So You Think You Can Dance routine plays out with two dancers. Honestly, I kind of loved this. It was intimate and sincere and lovingly executed. One of my favorites of the night.

25. Cyprus – Eleni Foureira “Fuego” Oh no! Cyprus has read from the Necronomicon and opened up a rift in time! Ash Williams, come save us! This is Cyprus expect a danceable track. Because that’s what you’ll get. Also, every year there seems to be a Beyonce impersonator. Just saying.

26. Italy – Ermal Meta & Fabrizio Moro “Non mi avete fatto niente” I immediately see this one as a real contender. Not because I love the song (I don’t) but because it’s engineered with brutal efficiency. It perfectly balances poignant lyrics, earnest performance, and a solid song. The lyrics come up on the video screen with stylized fonts, rolling through various languages in a brutal and brilliant method of bringing in the world audience. You could maybe find a performance that is better in each category, but none so perfectly balanced across the board as Italy’s.

And now we wait for the votes to come in and be tallied. There’s always a lot of confusion about how they work so I’ll break it down to the best of my knowledge for y’all.

The jury votes. Each competing country has their own jury of voters that rank a top ten list. Then points are portioned out to their picks, with a top 11th award getting 12 points.

Public votes. These are given out based on the call-in voting from across Europe. This are announced second as they completely reorder the competitors.

If that sounds convoluted, it is. And purposefully so. The system was designed to draw out the suspense of the announcement as long as possible. So really the jury votes set up a baseline that can be completely overturned.

And impressions of this year? Well, I’m happy that the “white dress and a ballad” phase seems to be over. No clear style came out as a successor so maybe next year we’ll see a clear group-think strategy emerge.

My top picks, in no particular order, are:

Estonia

Portugal

Germany

Israel

Ireland

And I want to draw attention to a few more musical performers from Portugal, that weren’t in the competition but performed in the opening and closing segments. Mariza, Sara Tavares, and Mayra Andrade all caught my attention. So if you’re actually looking for new music in the midst of this spectacle, those are a few people I’d like to draw your attention to.

After an insane amount of re-ordering, and a long stretch when it looked like bland-as-bland-can-be Austria might win, Israel won! I am so happy, as that was personal pick. I figured Italy would take a high place in the public vote, and they did with 3rd place.

However, I think I would have preferred that Germany (my precious boy) would have won, as I do worry about Israel hosting Eurovision and all of the possible repercussions. Between the security issues of the people to go, and the political statements of the people who won’t, it’s going to be interesting. So now we can all revel in the greatness of Toy (if not the Orientalism of the performance) for a year. In the meantime, I’ll start a betting pool for how many countries will pull out of Eurovision between now and then.

NEXT TIME IN JERUSALEM! !השלב הבא בירושלים

I watch Eurovision because I know you didn't! I was totally unprepared this year. Still had a great time, though. Eurovision 2018: Finals I'm so unprepared this year! Due to a lot going on in life, I didn't have time to watch either of the semi-finals or even pregame with the official music videos!

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dailynewswebsite · 4 years

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Why local governments will feel aggrieved by this spending review

Studying November’s spending assessment, native leaders can be left with many questions. They “stay to battle one other yr” maybe, however uncertainty surrounding native authorities funds continues.

Native authorities will see their core spending energy boosted by 4.5% in money phrases over the subsequent yr. This avoids catastrophe, however will imply vital council tax will increase. The £three billion allotted for COVID-related prices is unlikely to fulfill the unprecedented demand on native authorities’s funds.

Collectively, native authorities have been on the entrance line within the battle in opposition to the coronavirus, regardless of public companies missing resilience after years of squeezed sources. To finish a decade of monetary uncertainty, made a lot worse by the pandemic, native leaders had requested for a significant, multi-year funding settlement. Their calls have fallen on deaf ears.

The chancellor of the exchequer, Rishi Sunak, has now repeatedly did not hearken to native leaders whereas the Treasury successfully holds sub-national authorities in a state of perpetual dependency. A lot for English devolution.

It’s placing that the Treasury – so usually introduced as essentially the most political division in Whitehall – has been caught off guard greater than as soon as in the course of the pandemic. Creating well-functioning political antennae requires listening and studying. It takes cooperation, not hubris – and engagement, not coverage by diktat.

The Treasury stands accused of not seeing the larger image, however why?

Treasury management

In 2015, the then chancellor, George Osborne, introduced his “devolution revolution” as being about transferring energy away from Whitehall and kickstarting regional development and productiveness. If cash was spent nearer to taxpayers, then prime minister David Cameron added, it could be spent extra correctly.

However the UK has one of the crucial closely centralised methods of monetary management amongst OECD nations. Native authorities have restricted potential to boost taxes or borrow. Nonetheless, they’ve appreciable statutory obligations over a number of the most difficult areas of public coverage, together with social care. Care houses, for instance, rapidly grew to become the epicentre of the disaster, however native authorities needed to wait as help packages trickled in.

The primary wave of English devolution elevated the obligations of sub-national authorities however the Treasury continues to carry the purse strings. Devolution, in brief, is incomplete.

COVID-19 help packages – totalling round £6 billion – are estimated by native leaders to go away a shortfall of £1 billion this yr. Reserves are being pushed to their limits and native authority incomes have plummeted. As uncertainty continues, cuts to non-essential, usually preventative companies, are prone to comply with. It is a false financial system. A number of native authorities are in talks with the federal government about using capital budgets to keep away from potential chapter.

The present system presents restricted wriggle room. As this “spending assessment” exhibits, native authorities should play a ready recreation because the Treasury makes selections behind closed doorways and releases pots of cash that repeatedly include circumstances about the way it must be spent.

Extended uncertainty

Native authorities are advanced organisations working in an more and more fragmented surroundings. To ship public companies, they have to work with a number of authorities departments and supply brokers throughout a spread of boundaries.

For the previous three years, councils have acquired a one-year funding settlement. This short-termism is inefficient and makes longer-term planning not possible. Nothing is for certain in a world pandemic however central authorities’s unwillingness to let go of energy over monetary issues limits the choices out there to native authorities.

Levelling up will contain accepting that native leaders know their communities and must be accountable to their constituents for the selections they make. Whitehall is simply too distant from the fact on the bottom, and its insurance policies omit important native info.

Alarming developments in native and regional authorities funds look set to proceed. The acute part of this disaster is nearing its finish however, unable to plan, its legacy is way from over for native leaders and the communities they serve.

The long run

As we emerge from this disaster, the restoration can be sooner if individuals with essentially the most information of native challenges have actual energy to form outcomes. There is a chance to empower, as soon as and for all, native and regional authorities to drive development. This doesn’t imply being deserted by the centre however being trusted to take the suitable selections within the pursuits of their communities.

This significant devolution requires higher monetary autonomy. How can native leaders plan, when their funds are sapped no before they’ve been acquired and there’s no visibility over future years’ funds? Native authorities empowered with higher capability to manage their very own funds, however for which they’re additionally accountable, would face much less uncertainty.

The pathology of a “Whitehall is aware of greatest” mentality has been uncovered greater than as soon as throughout this pandemic – with the centralised test-and-trace system being prime of a rising checklist.

The Treasury sees itself as the motive force of devolution. However the system it created was cast in its personal picture regardless of the Native Authorities Affiliation’s issues that you just can not match “new and daring concepts into outdated frameworks”.

It’s price remembering that the Treasury’s historic mission is to make sure worth for cash and to guard public funds. Working with, and listening to, individuals on the bottom has the potential to economize and ship higher outcomes in the long term. An extended overdue rethink of centralised political traditions is required.

Sam Warner receives funding from Nuffield Basis.

Dave Richards receives funding from

Nuffield Basis ESRC

Diane Coyle receives funding from Nuffield Basis. She is chair of trustees of the Nationwide Institute of Financial and Social Analysis till Decembe 2020.

Martin Smith receives funding from Nuffield Basis.

from Growth News https://growthnews.in/why-local-governments-will-feel-aggrieved-by-this-spending-review/ via https://growthnews.in

#Growth News

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cathygeha · 5 years

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REVIEW:

This Earl of Mine by Kate Bateman

Bow Street Bachelors #1

Reading the book description I was taken back to reading a book my father shared with me – a book in which a woman in need of a husband also went to a prison to find a condemned man to marry. The two books diverged from there though neither husband actually bit the dust by the end of the book they starred in. Both men were definitely more than the bride expected and both were fallen in love with by their wives before the end of the stories.

In this book we have wealthy Georgiana “Georgie” Caversteed being hounded by despicable cousin Josiah. He wants her money and isn’t planning to take no for an answer. Thus, the reason for the marriage of convenience. Georgie has plenty of money but no desire to wed the men in the ton that she has met already. There was a frisson of interest when Georgie met Benedict “Ben” Wylde but she realized that it was NOT real since...he was a dirty prisoner...until she experienced the same feeling when she ran into Benedict at a ball the next time.

This book had the two falling for one another slowly while they also spent time trying to solve a case Benedict and his friends were working on for Bow Street. There is a side story of Georgie’s sister Juliet and Simeon and the lead into the idea that either Seb or Alex, Benedict’s friends, will get their stories in books to come. The book did not stand out to me as something new or different but it was an enjoyable way to spend the day.

Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more in the series? Yes

Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Paperbacks for the ARC – This is my honest review.

3-4 Stars

Book-buy link: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250305961

SUMMARY:

Introducing the Bow Street Bachelors—men who work undercover for London’s first official police force—and the women they serve to protect. . .and wed?

Shipping heiress Georgiana Caversteed is done with men who covet her purse more than her person. Even worse than the ton’s lecherous fortune hunters, however, is the cruel cousin determined to force Georgie into marriage. If only she could find a way to be . . . widowed? Georgie hatches a madcap scheme to wed a condemned criminal before he’s set to be executed. All she has to do is find an eligible bachelor in prison to marry her, and she’ll be free. What could possibly go wrong?

Benedict William Henry Wylde, scapegrace second son of the late Earl of Morcott and well-known rake, is in Newgate prison undercover, working for Bow Street. Georgie doesn’t realize who he is when she marries him—and she most certainly never expects to bump into her very-much-alive, and very handsome, husband of convenience at a society gathering weeks later. Soon Wylde finds himself courting his own wife, hoping to win her heart since he already has her hand. But how can this seductive rogue convince brazen, beautiful Georgie that he wants to be together…until actual death do they part?

EXCERPT:

Chapter 1.

London, March 1816.

There were worse places to find a husband than Newgate Prison.

Of course there were.

It was just that, at present, Georgie couldn’t think of any.

“Georgiana Caversteed, this is a terrible idea.” Georgie frowned at her burly companion, Pieter Smit,

as the nondescript carriage he’d summoned to convey them to London’s most notorious jail rocked to a halt on the cobbled street. The salt-weathered Dutchman always used her full name whenever he disapproved of some- thing she was doing. Which was often.

“Your father would turn in his watery grave if he knew what you were about.”

That was undoubtedly true. Until three days ago, en- listing a husband from amongst the ranks of London’s most dangerous criminals had not featured prominently on her list of life goals. But desperate times called for des- perate measures. Or, in this case, for a desperate felon about to be hanged. A felon she would marry before the night was through.

Georgie peered out into the rain-drizzled street, then up, up the near-windowless walls. They rose into the mist, five stories high, a vast expanse of brickwork, bleak and unpromising. A church bell tolled somewhere in the darkness, a forlorn clang like a death knell. Her stomach knotted with a grim sense of foreboding.

Was she really going to go through with this? It had seemed a good plan, in the safety of Grosvenor Square. The perfect way to thwart Cousin Josiah once and for all. She stepped from the carriage, ducked her head against the rain, and followed Pieter under a vast arched gate. Her heart hammered at the audacity of what she planned. They’d taken the same route as condemned prisoners on the way to Tyburn tree, only in reverse. West to east, from the rarefied social strata of Mayfair through gradu- ally rougher and bleaker neighborhoods, Holborn and St. Giles, to this miserable place where the dregs of humanity had been incarcerated. Georgie felt as if she were nearing her own execution.

She shook off the pervasive aura of doom and straight- ened her spine. This was her choice. However unpalat- able the next few minutes might be, the alternative was far worse. Better a temporary marriage to a murderous, unwashed criminal than a lifetime of misery with Josiah. They crossed the deserted outer courtyard, and Georgie cleared her throat, trying not to inhale the foul-smelling air that seeped from the very pores of the building. “You have it all arranged? They are expecting us?”

Pieter nodded. “Aye. I’ve greased the wheels with yer blunt, my girl. The proctor and the ordinary are both bent as copper shillings. Used to having their palms greased, those two, the greedy bastards.”

Her father’s right-hand man had never minced words

in front of her, and Georgie appreciated his bluntness. So few people in the ton ever said what they really meant. Pieter’s honesty was refreshing. He’d been her father’s man for twenty years before she’d even been born. A case of mumps had prevented him from accompanying Wil- liam Caversteed on his last, fateful voyage, and Georgie had often thought that if Pieter had been with her father, maybe he’d still be alive. Little things like squalls, ship- wrecks, and attacks from Barbary pirates would be mere inconveniences to a man like Pieter Smit.

In the five years since Papa’s death, Pieter’s steadfast loyalty had been dedicated to William’s daughters, and Georgie loved the gruff, hulking manservant like a second father. He would see her through this madcap scheme— even if he disapproved.

She tugged the hood of her cloak down to stave off the drizzle. This place was filled with murderers, highway- men, forgers, and thieves. Poor wretches slated to die, or those “lucky” few whose sentences had been commuted to transportation. Yet in her own way, she was equally desperate.

“You are sure that this man is to be hanged tomorrow?” Pieter nodded grimly as he rapped on a wooden door.

“I am. A low sort he is, by all accounts.”

She shouldn’t ask, didn’t want to know too much about the man whose name she was purchasing. A man whose death would spell her own freedom. She would be wed and widowed within twenty-four hours.

Author Bio:

Kate Bateman, (also writing as K. C. Bateman), is the #1 bestselling author of historical romances, including her RITA® nominated Renaissance romp, The Devil To Pay, and the novels in the Secrets & Spies series To Steal a Heart, A Raven’s Heart, and A Counterfeit Heart. When not writing novels that feature feisty, intelligent heroines and sexy, snarky heroes you want to both strangle and kiss, Kate works as a fine art appraiser and on-screen antiques expert for several popular TV shows in the UK. She splits her time between Illinois and her native England. Follow her on Twitter to learn more.

This Earl of Mine Blog Tour Q&A

Q: What inspired you to write This Earl of Mine?

A: Most of my books are inspired by real historical events, but for the adventure subplot in This Earl of Mine I was looking up something completely different, fell down a research rabbit hole, and stumbled upon an outlandish plot to rescue Napoleon from exile on Saint Helena using a submarine! I’d had no idea submersibles were even in use in the Regency, but a little digging soon revealed a tale far stranger than fiction—with plenty of smugglers, spies, and underhand skullduggery thrown in. Of course, then my writer brain couldn’t help but wonder WHAT IF . . .?

What if someone loyal to Napoleon stole the plans for the submarine from the Admiralty? And what if London’s fledgling police force, The Bow Street Runners, were tasked with finding the vessel and foiling the scheme?

The main plot, of course, is the romantic one between shipping heiress Georgie Caversteed and Bow Street Runner Benedict Wylde. They try to piece together the clues, while trying to ignore the inconvenient attraction that sparks between them. (Spoiler alert: they succeed at the former, and fail miserably at the latter!)

Q: Is there one thing you would like readers to take away from this story?

A: You mean apart from a new appreciation of early19th century submarine development?! Why, yes! I firmly believe in happy-ever-afters for everyone, and while none of my characters may be perfect, they’re certainly perfect for each other. A successful romance should be a true partnership between equals, with love, respect, humor, and kindness. I hope that’s what readers see develop between Georgie and Benedict.

Q: Where do you go or what resources do you use to make sure your novels are historically correct?

A: I have quite a bit of overall historical knowledge from my life as an antiques appraiser and auctioneer; I’ve handled plenty of Regency-era artifacts, like scent bottles, reticules, clothes, letters, furniture etc. And I’ve visited (and lived in) plenty of historic houses when I lived in England. So I have a pretty good idea what that world is like when I’m describing it. I do lots of random research online too, though. I suspect I’m on a secret CIA watchlist because of my weird internet browsing history, which currently includes such gems as: ‘does Prussic acid smell like almonds?’ ‘18th century jewel heists,’ and ‘chloroform, first use.’

Q: Did you learn anything surprising while researching for this novel?

A: Apart from the crazy submarine plot, I found out what the chapel of Newgate prison looked like in 1816, discovered more about the founding of London’s first true police force, the Bow Street Runners, and found a new book boyfriend in the wonderfully roguish Benedict Wylde!

Q: Describe the hero and heroine of This Earl of Mine in three words each.

A: Georgie is resourceful, determined, and curious. Benedict is amusing, loyal and scoundrelly!

Q: What was the hardest scene to write in This Earl of Mine? Your favorite?

A: My favorite scene was the sexy banter between Benedict and Georgie as they listen to the terrible poetry written by Juliet’s fiancé. Almost every sentence is a double entendre, and Benedict is shameless in trying to say something utterly inappropriate to make Georgie laugh, and I just giggle every time I think of it. I hope readers can feel the ridiculously flirtatious, slow-burn teasing in that scene. Yum!

The hardest was the sexy scene inside the tiny submarine. It’s a confined space, and I had to think about the technicalities of which body part was where, and whether they had enough space to do the scandalous things I wanted them to do. (Of course they did!)

Q: Why do you write historical romance?

A: Because it can be total escapism. A reader can travel back in time to a different world and encounter situations that just don’t happen today. As a writer I like the challenge presented by the historical parameters; lots of great conflicts arise because of social, cultural, or economic factors. Plus, there are so many real historical adventures out there just waiting to be discovered. . .

Q: Is there another particular author that inspires you or that you enjoy reading?

A: SO MANY AUTHORS! Laura Kinsale, Connie Brockway (As you Desire is a favorite), Loretta Chase, Judith McNaught, Anne Stuart, Joanna Bourne, Tessa Dare, Eloisa James, Suzan Elizabeth Philips, Julie Garwood, Galen Foley, Kerrigan Byrne, Julia Quinn, Beverly Jenkins, Alyssa Cole, Joanna Shupe, Johanna Lindsey, J.R Ward, Janet Evanovich, Georgette Heyer, Mary Renault, Jane Austen, E.M Forster, Leo Tolstoy, P.G. Wodehouse, Antoine de Saint Exupery, Jean M. Auel, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, . . . Ok. I’ll stop now. But there are plenty more.

Q: What’s next for the Bow Street Bachelors?

A: Two more books! Those bad boys Alex Harland and Sebastien Wolff each get their own adventure and I can’t wait for everyone to read them! Alex meets his match in half-French jewel thief Emmy Danvers –AKA The Nightjar– in To Catch an Earl, (Bow Street Bachelors #2). And Seb gets a sexy cat-and-mouse game of his own when he’s forced to protect the infuriating Anya Denisova – a feisty Russian Princess who’s faked her own death in The Princess and The Rogue, (Bow Street Bachelors #3).

Q: Is there anything else you’d like to add?

A: Only that if you haven’t already preordered This Earl Of Mine, the paperback is currently at a special preorder price of $6.79, so snap it up in time for the release day, October 29th! Happy reading everyone!

Book-buy link: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250305961

#Kate Bateman #Bow Street Bachelors 1 #Historical Romance #Marriage of Convenience #St. Martin's Paperbacks #NetGalley

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nitemice · 7 years

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Hey, here's my latest post over on my main blog:

For those who have been wondering “what ever happened to Skye Sweetnam?”, here’s a surprise for you. Sumo Cyco is a punk rock/metal band out of Toronto, where Skye Sweetnam now resides as lead singer, under the alter ego of Sever. With MD13 (Matt Drake) on lead guitar and Thor (Ken Corke) on bass guitar, Sumo Cyco have produced two albums, a live EP, a number of cover singles and a tonne of music videos. I had intended to write a review of their first album, but by the time I got to it, their next album was just around the corner, so here’s a review of that instead.

When I first discovered Sumo Cyco, I was a bit horrified at the turn Skye Sweetnam’s musical style had taken. But after giving it a chance, I actually started to really enjoy it. And when you consider the transition from Noise From The Basement to Sound Soldier, you start to see how she got here; From punk pop, to punk rock, to punk metal. This evolution makes even more sense when you find out that some of the other members of Sumo Cyco used to be part of Skye’s tour band. Skye has said that her aim with Sumo Cyco was “to be able to sing any style..[and] to not feel constricted by genre”, which shows in the variety present on both Lost In Cyco City (Sumo Cyco’s first album) and Opus Mar (their second album). Sometimes it can border on screamo or growling, sometimes it sounds like rap, and sometimes it can feel more like power pop, but mostly it falls under the general banner of metal. Skye herself has classed the band’s music generally as “dancehall metal”, inspired by UK band Skindred . I’m no heavy metal connoisseur, but I can tell you Sumo Cyco produces a punchy, yet danceable fusion of punk metal with any number of other styles in any given song. So even if you don’t much like some song, you’re likely to find one you do (unless you can’t stand rock/metal at all, in which case, this is not the band for you).

As I mentioned, I was going to review Sumo Cyco’s first album, Lost In Cyco City, but I never quite got around to it. Suffice to say, I liked its unique blend of fiery, soaring vocals with shredding guitars and body-shaking drums. Surprisingly, it reminded me, in parts, of some of Paramore’s really early stuff, but with less emo and more metal. So when I heard they were crowdfunding a new album through PledgeMusic, I was excited but cautious. While I enjoyed their first album, much of the music Sumo Cyco had released before that had been much heavier, and I was worried this new album might tip into territory outside my comfort zone. Ultimately though, the main thing that stopped me from pre-ordering was the cost. Shipping to Australia, plus a poor exchange rate, meant a copy of the CD alone would have set me back just under AU$50, which is just too much for a CD. Instead, I spent the first few weeks after the album came out repeatedly listening to it on Spotify. Now that I’m convinced of its quality, I’ll be buying it directly.

Sumo Cyco also posted a series of videos explaining the meaning and writing process behind each track on Opus Mar. I wrote most of this review before watching those videos, so I could give you my uninfluenced impressions and interpretation of the songs, but I did watch them later, so I could give a more definitive comment on the message of each song. Before watching the videos, I was a bit worried that hearing their meaning might make me dislike some of the tracks. However, it turned out that it only made me like most track even more.

As with my other album reviews, I’ve listed previous songs each track reminds me of (by Sumo Cyco or just Skye Sweetnam), with the album they come from, a rank for each track on this album, as well as a short comment about each track. Plus there’s an overview of the album as a whole at the bottom.

1. Anti-Anthem

Reminds me of: My Name Is Rock N’ Roll [Lost In Cyco City], Interceptor [Interceptor] Rank on this album: 4 A perfect opening track, Anti-Anthem sets the tone for the whole album, with its blend of punk rock, heavy metal and modern pop elements. It starts with faux radio noise, which instantly reminds me of the previous album, which also used effects like this to open. It’s a bit of a misnomer, but the band claims this was on purpose, because it’s arrogant to declare your own song an anthem. But the meaning behind it runs deeper than that, being about the plight of stateless refugees, with literally “no place to go”. The vocals really open up towards the end, and the track closes with more sample dialogue.

2. Free Yourself

Reminds me of: Brave [Lost In Cyco City] Rank on this album: 1 Probably the catchiest track on the whole album, Free Yourself stuck in my head from the moment I heard it. With a heavy rocking intro, memorable chorus, relentless drums, and slick guitar riffs, this song is a perfect illustration of why I love this band. If you want to introduce Sumo Cyco to a friend, this would be my go-to track. It’s a fantastic anthem of self-reliance and looking to yourself for strength, rather than outside world.

3. Move Mountains ft. Benji Webbe

Reminds me of: (Let’s Get Movin’) Into Action [Sound Soldier], Like A Killer [Lost In Cyco City] Rank on this album: 9 Tracks with featured artists are often divisive, and Move Mountains is no different. On the one hand, it’s an epic song with a dead simple, yet catchy hook, thumping drums and bass beats. I think I even heard a Wilhelm scream in there! On the other hand, Benji’s vocal part stands in stark contrast to Sever’s. While stylistically similar, his sound is so different and just wasn’t something I much enjoyed. For me, Skye’s vocals are one of the main points of attraction, so anything that reduces that is bad in my book. That said, I understand that it was a really big deal for the band to have one of their idols perform with them on the album (Benji Webbe is the frontman for Skindred), and the track grew on me. I can imagine a really awesome superhero-based music video for this song, which I hope gets made one day.

4. Passengers

Reminds me of: We Ride [Lost In Cyco City], Mercy [Live Sessions 1] Rank on this album: 11 Passengers delivers heavily on the two big themes of this album: the need for social change on Earth, and trains. It paints a vivid picture of how the earth is being destroyed, and we are all just passengers, along for the ride. It implores listeners to stop ignoring what’s happening and “fight for the promised land”. Even though they’re Canadian, the band said this track was also partially influenced by the USA election of 2016. Musically, Passengers delivers shredding guitars and drums, with a strange Maroon 5-esque bridge with electronic vocals.

5. Brave II

Reminds me of: Crowd Control (Do What We Want) [Lost In Cyco City] Rank on this album: 5 Apart from its name, Brave II shares little in common with Brave, my favourite track from the original album. This song wears its meaning quite clearly on its sleeve, talking openly about the rise of conflict, extremism and echo chambers that exist in the world today. It encourages the listener to fight this wave of fear and anger with love, tolerance and open-mindedness. It would make a perfect backing track to a protest video. The band have said that the song was also influenced by the numerous shooting that have taken place in recent years in music venues, and is about having the guts to keep on doing what you want to, rather than living in fear or terror.

6. Sleep Tight

Reminds me of: Hypocrite [Noise From The Basement], Human [Sound Soldier], Cry Murder [Lost In Cyco City] Rank on this album: 7 Sleep Tight opens with a softly-spoken intro, back by an endless guitar riff, which gives way to smashing guitar, and screaming verses. The bridge has a weird disco vibe to it. This song is about how money serves as the unspoken motivator for many, and how it drives marketing and the media to pull the wool over our eyes, in aid of capitalism.

7. Rivalry

Reminds me of: The Ugly [Lost In Cyco City], Shot To Pieces [Noise From The Basement] Rank on this album: 2 Based on the experience of a fan dealing with suicide and depression, Rivalry is about facing your inner demons, and using music to fight the negativity. It’s solid rock all the way, with a punchy, pseudo-rap break for a bridge. Glitch effects and distortion add extra colour to vocals, which reminds me of the last Garbage album, except they work really well here.

8. Kids of Calamity

Reminds me of: Fuel My Fire [Lost In Cyco City], Danger [Danger] Rank on this album: 12 Like it’s compatriots, Kids of Calamity focuses on the need for social change in the world. Specifically, in the way the previous generation is leaving the planet for the next. It is a call to arms for this new generation, to rise up and be better.

9. Won’t Put Me Out

Reminds me of: Go Go Go [Lost In Cyco City], Permanent Holiday (Locked in the Trunk of His Car) [Live Sessions 1] Rank on this album: 6 With one of the calmest opening by Sumo Cyco’s standards, Won’t Put Me Out is a slow burn that builds through call-and-response verses. Ironically, this track is about being in the zone, on stage. There’s a great, stompy guitar riff that gives the track a vague tribal vibe.

10. Words

Reminds me of: Fighter [Lost In Cyco City], Ultra [Sound Soldier] Rank on this album: 3 Wordscombines fast, rapped verses with a simple, yet endlessly catchy chorus hook. The thing that sucked me in was the pop culture references in the first verse. The track, which is about the way people twist each other’s words when they fight, closes quite appropriately with distorted vocals seemingly glitching out.

11. The Broadcasters (Murdering by Radio)

Reminds me of: Where Do We Go? [Where Do We Go?], We Ride [Lost In Cyco City] Rank on this album: 8 The Broadcasters starts, unsurprisingly, with the sound of a radio tuning. It’s mostly rap, backed by a gruff chant, that builds to each chorus, with soaring vocals in the bridge.

12. Rally

Reminds me of: Limp [Limp] Rank on this album: 13 Rally opens with a racing guitar riff, which never lets up. A call-and-response chorus and crashing cymbals help keep the pace. The ending is a refreshing surprise, with light acoustic guitar and sweet vocals.

13. Building Castles

Reminds me of: Scary Love [Sound Soldier], Loose Cannon [Loose Cannon] Rank on this album: 10 Building Castles tries to end the album on a high, positive note, talking about the reward for pushing through times of struggle. With a complex instrumental intro, and a bridge that reminded me of Lady Gaga, or Yiddish music full of running arpeggios, musically Sumo Cyco furfills their goal. The train metaphor is completed as the song fades out to railway noise.

As a whole, Opus Mar flows really well. When I first listened to it, I didn’t even notice the transition between some of the track. It feels like one continuous musical journey, with endless variety and passion. In that way, it sort of reminded me of a live set, but much cleaner and crisper than live albums characteristically are. That said, each track stands well on its own, with some really coming into their own when listened to apart from the rest of the album.

Skye Sweetnam has always packed her lyrics dense with meaning and references, and with the amount of rap on Opus Mar, that’s truer than ever before. Yet every song still has a catchy, strong, and memorable chorus. All the song seems to be going at a million miles an hour; much faster than the last album, which had some pockets of solid, calm groove. Every track on this album also seems to have a bridge of one sort or another, be it in the form of a rap break, or a brief interlude in a totally different musical style, which really helps keeps some of the tracks feeling fresh. Skye’s voice have always been amazing, and this album is no exception. That said, her sweeping, sweet yet powerful vocals are far less common on this album. As mentioned, it has a lot more rap and gruff metal voice than the last album, which will not be to everyone’s taste. For me, the addition of these elements wasn’t as off-putting as the loss of what they supplant. Although the scarcity does make those rare moments all the more powerful.

Many of the trimmings of modern music are here: reverb, distortion, glitch effects and the like. However, while these sorts of tricks are often employed to disappointing or plain-out distracting ends, they all seems to fit quite comfortably here. They’ve been used in ways that suit the style of music, and are appropriate within each track.

One thing I was surprised by, and on reflection sort of impressed by, is the fact that there are no explicit tracks on the album. Despite the fact that the whole album is about the sometime frustrating and seemingly hopeless quest for social change, Sever never resorts to swearing to get her point across.

The two main themes of this album, as mentioned above, are social change and trains. While the reoccurring train motifs are little more than a novelty, the push for social change is anything but. Sumo Cyco has clearly chosen to take a stand with this album, and make a statement about how they view the state of the world today, and what needs to be done to improve it. Almost every song makes mention of how terrible the world is these days, and how we can help change that. There’s definitely a sense of doom and gloom to it, but what makes it so impactful is that there’s also a sense of hope and empowerment too. Although Sumo Cyco is from the “Great White North”, their message seems to resonate remarkably with what’s been going on in America. No doubt it’s applicable all over, and has been for a while, but it feels much more present in people’s minds now.

Overall, Opus Mar is a strong, impactful, timely and rocking album full of music with a message. It may not be what you expect to hear from the teen popstar we knew as Skye Sweetnam, but that doesn’t overshadow its quality. While there are elements of the previous album that I preferred, there are also elements here that are an improvement. Between the two is a fascinating fusion which I hope to hear on Sumo Cyco’s third album, whenever that may appear. In the meantime, this is a solid entry into a fast-expanding catalogue that I hope will make people, not only dance, but think.

RATING: 8/10 – ★★★★★★★★☆☆

But you don’t have to take my word for it…Listen to the album for yourself, and make up your own mind. Then you can let me know what you think of Sumo Cyco’s Opus Mar.

So, have you ever heard of Sumo Cyco, or Skye Sweetnam? What’s your favourite songs of theirs? Did you pre-order Opus Mar? What do you think? Did it live up to your expectations? Have I said anything you disagree with? Tell me & everyone else who passes through here what you think in the comment below.

To Infinity and Beyond,

Nitemice

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