#the smithsonian. is not totally correct here

[aahsoka]

I just need to address this One section. Everything else I generally agree with but 20s fashion did not exclude corsetry. It just transformed into a different shape, focused on compressing the bust and hips. This also supports the idea that this wasn’t a deliberate move to make women thinner, because at this time it was still normal to use shape-wear to achieve a silhouette instead of modifying your body. Here are some examples of what a ‘corset’ looked like in the 20s (though there were quite a few other types of undergarments in this time):

You also. left out an entire sentence from that smithsonian quote that acknowledges that shape-wear was used (though clearly these ‘tubes’ were not always elastic or unboned as we see above and I disagree strongly with how they decided to word this; a “structured version of spanx” doesn’t actually sound more “freeing” than a corset? + Women could breathe perfectly fine in corsets… etc)

OP’s ideas definitely stem from the myth that the 20s got rid of corsetry, as no one with a naturally curvy body could achieve that boyish silhouette without it. So what can you assume except that women were modifying their bodies if you are also assuming they no longer used shape-wear? Arguably, it was the shorter, looser skirts that allowed for more mobility (as opposed to certain belle epoque styles like the hobble skirt, for example, though I don’t think its useful to view 20s fashion as a full rejection of previous trends; there were some fashion ideas that started in the 1900s-1910s that stayed and it was more of a gradual change. Skirts included) or things like the use of spiral steeled boning in shape-wear like in the advertisement above. Certain kinds of undergarments were less restrictive but some were more restrictive, and it would depend on your natural body type which kind you might choose to achieve this look. We still haven’t technically stopped using shape-wear ever, we have just at some point turned to modifying our natural bodies being the more acceptable method of fitting the fashionable shape.

Most women’s fashion trends were mainly driven by women. Men hated hourglass corsets (which were not necessarily constricting unless you wanted them to be; women worked while wearing stays/corsets/etc for centuries) and crinolines when they were in fashion too! I heavily agree that what women wear is generally not a big patriarchal conspiracy. There are certainly times when it intersects with patriarchy, but it is not typically an explicit function of the clothing. I believe acknowledging shapewear/corsetry as not being extremely restrictive garments (“forced on women by the patriarchy”) is vital to making this argument.

I cannot copy the link but if you’re curious about 1920s undergarments Nicole Rudolph has a great comprehensive video on them called “How Flappers Got Their Figure: the 1920s Silhouette” on youtube.

The fact that thinness came in vogue (as seen in popular culture, magazines, fashion models, etc.) in the 1920s when women got the right to vote is telling. We got real, tangible power and then were told to be thin to achieve beauty, and sickly thin too. The kind of thin with no muscles, no power. It is not surprising to me that our beauty standards keep women physically weaker, physically starving, and mentally exhausted. The beauty standard is nothing more than a tool to keep women weak, docile, poor, and too tired to act.

[blancheludis]

My first entry for MTH 2019, @marveltrumpshate​

Characters: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers, Howard Stark Tags: Marriage, Secret Identity, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff Words: 7.514

Summary: Married life has done wonders for Tony. He has mostly cut down on his working hours, he eats regularly, he takes care not to accidentally blow himself up in his lab. Life is good.

Then Steve comes home bleeding and that carefully built house of cards threatens to fall apart.

---

Steve is late. That in itself is no reason to worry, but Tony has become practised at estimating when Steve will stay late at work. It all depends on how much he fusses in the morning, how often he tells Tony he loves him, with words or kisses or smiles.

Everything was fine this morning. When Steve came back from his run, they had breakfast together, after which Tony did his best to make Steve late by joining him in the shower. Still, Steve seemed to want to linger when he went down to the garage to drive off to work.

Steve said he would be home by six. Now it is almost eight and Tony is getting nervous. He is being stupid, of course, because Steve can take care of himself, but considering that both their working hours are crazy, two less hours they can spend together in the evening is a real loss.

Dinner is cooking on the stove when Tony finally hears the door open. He glares at the pasta sauce as if it is at fault for him becoming emotional when he is missing his husband.

“Darling, I’m home,” Steve calls. That is something Tony will never get tired of. The pet names. The fact that they have a home together, that he is home for Steve.

“I'm in the kitchen,” Tony calls back and turns up the stove to get the pasta boiling.

“I’ll be right with you,” Steve says, accompanied by the shoe cabinet opening and closing. Contrary to Tony, Steve always puts his shoes away instead of just throwing them in a corner. “I’ll just take a shower first.”

Tony is not sure what compels him to go out in the hall. There is nothing wrong with Steve wanting to clean up before dinner. He has had a strange feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach all evening, however, and he needs to make sure that Steve is really there and all right. They usually greet each other before anything else too. Steve cannot be dirty enough to warrant an immediate shower before kissing Tony.

The light in the hall is still turned off, but Tony left the kitchen door open, so he can see Steve well enough. The pit in his stomach immediately widens. The first thing he notices is the cut running down Steve’s left temple. A smudge of reddish brown has Steve’s hair sticking together over his ear, and the outlines of a bruise are already visible against Steve’s pale skin.  

Tony freezes in place, unsure how to deal with the fact that his husband has come home visibly wounded. With actual blood sticking to the side of his face.

Steve’s expression does not help. It is a mixture of a grimace and pinched regret. He opens his mouth, no doubt to make sense of things but Tony gets there first.

“Why are you bleeding?” Tony does not recognize his voice, too flat and too hoarse. He still cannot move.

“I’m not –” Steve begins, then changes track with a sheepish smile as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. “That’s just a small scratch.”

“Small as in running along the entire left side of your face,” Tony clarifies. With a jerk, he steps forward, right into Steve’s space.

“Just on the temple,” Steve says and tries to move his head out of Tony’s reach. He does not fight, though, when Tony cups his jaw and holds him in place to better look at the cut.

It has been cleaned already and appears shallow enough to not need any stitches. Tony is no expert, of course, and he would prefer to wrap Steve’s entire head in bandages as to not risk to do just the slightest bit wrong here. Head wounds are dangerous, right?

“How did this happen?” Tony asks, a bad feeling spreading inside his chest. He knows how this happened. Not any details, but Steve’s line of work offers dozens of opportunities to get hurt every day.

“We were cataloguing some stuff down in the archive.” Steve smiles slightly, but his eyes are too attentive to make his bashful expression believable. “They should really take better care with how they stack the crates. Long story short, I was clumsy and knocked over a tower. Didn’t pull my head away quickly enough. Phil’s spent the whole time complaining about the paperwork he’ll have to fill out because of this.”

Crates down in the museum archive. Of course. And Steve is always so clumsy, Tony totally noticed that before.

Without a word, he pulls Steve towards the kitchen where the light is better. He half hopes that Steve will protest because seeing his husband hurt puts Tony in a mood to yell at something – preferably Steve himself for not taking better care of himself.

In the kitchen, he pushes Steve into a chair and says, “Let me see.”

Steve tilts his head obligingly, even while he protests. “It’s already taken care of. Don’t worry.”

Tony stills for a moment to better glare at Steve. “Don’t tell me not to worry when my husband is bleeding.”

It could be worse, Tony tells himself as he looks at the cut. He could have taken some serious damage and not come home at all. Tony might have gotten a call from Coulson or Barton telling him that, once again, Steve would not be home tonight. Even with obvious signs of damage, Tony prefers Steve to be within touching distance.

“Your husband’s a big boy,” Steve says, although he is kind about it. He likes to fuzz over Tony too.

Tony has no interest in being kind at the moment, however, and snaps, “Who is shit at taking care of himself. So sit down and let me get the first-aid kit.”

He has not yet moved more than a foot away when Steve’s hand reaches out and grabs his arm, holding him back. “Tony,” he says, almost a plea.

While Tony stays where he is, he is careful not to appear like he is giving in. “Steve.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, right until Tony’s eyes wander back to the spot of red on Steve’s temple.

“It’s really all right,” Steve says. “Coulson wouldn’t let me go home without making sure.”

That might be the case because Coulson is, above all else, very correct when it comes to proper protocol, but that does not change the fact that Steve is hurt.

“Where else?” Tony asks. He pulls his arm out of Steve’s grasp and crosses it in front of himself.

Steve does a passably good impression of being confused, pulling up his eyebrows and looking down at himself as if searching for whatever made Tony think there is more he is hiding.

“Where else what?” he asks, offering his hand again, hoping Tony will take it. “I’ve only got the one scratch.”

“Nonsense,” Tony snaps, making Steve wince, although he does not take any satisfaction from that. He is worried, not angry. Not much, in any case. “You were walking funny, so what is it? Your rib again? Or something more serious?” Treating this as a technical problem is easier than thinking about his husband being hurt. “You’re not bleeding, like, internally, yes? Because I’m not equipped to handle that at home.”

Steve’s eyes widen as he looks at Tony. Not exactly as if he thinks Tony has gone mad, but like Steve is not sure how they got here and how he can manoeuvre them back out. Employees of the Smithsonian do not regularly get internal bleeding while working. Steve knows that, and Tony knows that too. Which makes it clear that Tony knows something more. More than he is supposed to.

“I’m not – Tony, I got in the way when a crate fell to the ground,” Steve says, sticking to his story. “Where do you get the idea that I could have internal bleeding?”

It hurts, Tony realises. He loves Steve, more than he ever thought he could love anything, and he is reasonably sure that Steve loves him too. Yet he comes home with blood on his face and pain mirrored on his features, and lies to Tony. For some honourable reason, probably, but Tony is tired of it.

He turns around and fishes the first-aid kit out of a kitchen cupboard. They have several of them stacked around the house, Tony made sure of that once he noticed Steve's tendency to come home hurt.

“Did someone actually look you over?” Tony asks, ignoring Steve’s attempts to brush this off. “You might have a concussion.”

He is not equipped to deal with anything more than a scratch, and he is not willing to risk his husband’s well-being just to keep up a lie.

Steve shifts to put his hand on Tony’s where it is clenched around the lid of the first-aid kit. Despite having half a mind to ignore the gesture, Tony turns his hand so they can intertwine their fingers. The contact helps. It anchors Tony in the present, where Steve is sitting in front of him

Only then Steve opens his mouth. “I’m really all right.”

That is likely meant to sound reassuring, but it is the last straw for Tony. “You’re a shit liar,” he snaps and snatches his hand away from Steve’s again.

He turns to the first-aid kit and gets out butterfly stitches for the cut on Steve's temple. It takes effort to keep his movements measured instead of turning around to simply tug up Steve’s shirt to look for more wounds himself. He can get a hint when he is meant to back off, but he hates it.

“I’m not –” Steve begins but wisely shuts up when Tony whirls around to glare at him.

“Don’t they check you agents before sending you home after a mission?”

Steve’s reaction to agents and mission is easily visible, even if Tony had not been looking for it. His shoulders draw up, his entire posture straightens, ignoring whatever wound he is hiding under his shirt. Too late he remembers to look confused.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, too alert to be believable – not that Tony would have.

This is the last opportunity for Tony to keep up the status quo. He can make a joke about the museum throwing their employees at artefacts like lemmings over a cliff. He could feign ignorance like he has done for the past two years of their marriage – even before that, really.

Tony is tired of this, however, so he says, much calmer than he feels, “Steve, I know you’re not working for the Smithsonian.” A small smile tugs at Tony’s lips and he does not fight it. “That’s honestly the most generic secret identity, and I don’t know who thought you could pull it off. The only thing you actually know something about is art. And not even art history, just pen-on-paper art.”

If Tony had been actually interested in talking in-depth about whatever exhibits Steve was supposedly acquiring or caring for at his fake job at the Smithsonian, it would not have taken any time at all for Tony to realize that Steve was full of shit. If he had not known, that would have likely felt like a betrayal.

“Are you all right?” Steve counters, suddenly very calm. The genuine, exhausted smile has been replaced by something strained, pursed lips beneath watchful eyes. Between the two of them, it is really just Tony who can lie in any capacity.

Tony shrugs, although the gesture feels everything but nonchalant. “Don’t worry. I’m not angry you didn’t tell me, although I hope you would have at some point,” he says. His eyes are turned down, trained on his hands to keep them from fiddling. “I mean, you could have died at any time and I would have never known the real reason and that would suck. But I get it.”

He is starting to ramble. So much for being a good liar. The mere thought of losing Steve is too much to consider. He never felt whole before Steve stepped into his life and now he cannot imagine ever being without him again.

There are downsides, like Barton getting constantly in trouble, or Natasha regularly threatening all of them with bodily harm, or Sam and Bucky’s constant bickering, which has only gotten worse since they manned up and got into a relationship together.

Steve’s friends are part of the upside too, but mostly there is just Steve. Steve completing Tony’s life. Steve making Tony into a better person, Steve being there to catch him, Steve loving him.

He cannot lose that. He does not care for national security at all as long as Steve will always come home to him.

“Calm down, Tony,” Steve says, sounding like he is very far away, but Tony will always hear him.

Steve’s voice grounds him like nothing else in the world does. The unease is not gone, but Tony shakes his head and smooths his expression into something less desperate. Better to keep busy.

“Perhaps once I made sure you’re not going to die,” Tony replies flippantly, uncurling his shoulders as if that can erase the fact that he feels like he is going crazy. His hand taps an erratic pattern against his leg as he orders, “Take off your shirt.”

Steve does not move. His face is that painfully tense kind of collected that means his thoughts are racing while he is trying to stay ahead of them. At his side, his fingers twitch like he wants to reach out for Tony, but he ultimately keeps his distance. Tony tells himself that does not hurt.

“I feel like we should talk about this first,” Steve says, his voice too calm.

Tony really does not want to do that. That would mean admitting that Steve has lied to him for years and that Tony let him. They have a good system going on. They love each other, and if Steve occasionally stays away for entire weeks because the museum apparently needs him to go unearth some artefact from Egypt himself, Tony kissed him goodbye and made sure that he has Steve’s favourite food in the house for when he comes back.

They do not need to hash out why exactly Tony did not believe that story but went digging into Steve’s personal matters the second time he came home after these extended trips, showering Tony with love but lying about everything else.  

“What’s there to talk about?” Tony asks, wincing at how high-pitched he sounds. “You’re working for SHIELD. You’re some kind of special agent, along with happy-go-lucky Clint and ex-soviet spy Natasha. You didn’t think I’d believe she got her murder strut from ballet, right? And Coulson’s the one who makes sure you don’t get yourself killed on every mission you get sent on.”

He keeps his voice even. Too even perhaps, considering the topic. When he first found out, he was one wrong movement away from snapping. His husband, gentle Steve Rogers who could not hurt a fly, is supposed to be a secret agent, defending their country from dangers from all directions?

Then again, Steve has never been harmless. Put a bully in his path, or the slightest case of inequality, and the whole day is going to end in a mess of fists and arguments. That passion is one of the reasons Tony has fallen in love with Steve. It is just harder to swallow that Steve has made it his day job to put himself in danger on other people’s behalf.

Steve is staring at him, his mouth slightly open like he is prepared to argue but does not yet know how. His effort is already ruined by the too long pause and the shock on his face.  “That’s not –”

“No lies, please,” Tony cuts him off, trying to keep any accusation out of his voice. “I know you can’t tell me about it, but please don’t insult me by pretending it’s not true.”

Tony naturally wishes Steve had told him, no matter whether he is allowed to or not, but that is not the point here. Most of all, he is worried about Steve’s safety.

In front of him, Steve seems to shrink. The pretence of confused calm falls off him, leaving him just tired and worried.

“How do you know about that?” he asks, subdued as if he expects Tony to jump up and run out on him. “Since when?”

“Easy, I hacked SHIELD.”

None of that was easy. Tony’s first thought had been that his husband was cheating on him. Truly, that was the option that made the most sense. Steve went to work in one shirt and came back in another. He cancelled dates or just did not show up. His stories about work always seemed a little too practised. And if the Smithsonian really had working hours like that, it would be nothing but an abandoned ruin by now.

Steve was never at home and always had bad excuses for it. Or, worse, he had Clint covering for him. And while Clint is much better at lying, he never managed to hide the pity in his eyes when Tony was rejected again and again.

Cheating was the most sensible solution. Yet Tony did not want to believe it. Turns out, life is sometimes kinder than he expects it to be. Which, of course, left him with the actual possibility of Steve not coming home one day because he died on a mission.

“You –” Steve trails off, eyes wide enough that it looks they are going to fall out. “What?”

The sight has Tony almost laughing, if not for the fact that he did not trust his husband and went digging for his secrets. Really, Steve should not be surprised. Present Tony with a mystery and he does not stop until he has solved it, even if that means hurting himself in the process. He was convinced he would find evidence of Steve not wanting him, after all.

“Well, SHIELD and about every other government agency,” Tony replies with fake nonchalance. He expects Steve to take offence to that. “Some from abroad too. I didn’t exactly look at you and thought you’re a SHIELD guy. It took me a while but I found you.”

He found Steve and his redacted military records and his SHIELD file and a countless number of missions all over the world. He found his father’s signature on Steve’s contract. He found his own name in a section called Possible Conflicts of Interest.

Suffice to say it was a punch to the gut and Tony over-analysed every interaction he had with Steve for weeks, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nothing happened. Steve continued to go to work, and he continued to tell Tony he loved him with the same fervour. Tony learned to deal with Steve’s secret life. What really matters is the time they spend together.

“When?” Steve asks quietly as if he does not want to know, as if he is not done processing that Tony found out and never told him.

“Two years ago.”

They have been married for three. Tony thinks swallowing Steve’s lies for a whole year before he went looking for answers on his own is a lot longer than he would have believed himself capable of. Part of him did not want to know, of course, because he thought he was the problem.

Steve closes his eyes and turns his head as if he cannot bear to look at Tony any longer. “I – and you never said –” He stumbles over the words as if they hurt him. With visible effort, he forces his eyes back open. “You’re not angry?”

Tony takes Steve’s hand and waits until Steve looks at him. “No,” he then answers simply.

He had been angry, of course. At the same time, he had been so relieved that he was not going to lose Steve to some other lover that he almost made his peace with it. He naturally has been keeping tabs on Steve since then, and might have put a tracker in his phone. Just in case.

Steve believes him. Nothing else could explain the way he suddenly clings to Tony’s hand as if it is the only thing keeping him from drowning. With a long, halting exhale, Steve shakes his head. “I don’t know what to say. I never wanted to lie to you, but they’re strict about that and I thought you might be safer this way, and I didn’t want to –”

“Steve,” Tony cuts him off softly. It is usually him who starts rambling when nervous. To see Steve lose his head like that just makes him believe they will be fine, no matter their respective breaches of trust. “It’s all right. We’re good. You’re home.”

And Steve is right, of course, about SHIELD agents being contractually obliged to keep their employment secret. Since Tony is the son and godson of both founders, however, he thinks they could have made an exception for him.

That is something he will have to argue about with his father, though. Not Steve. Personally, he considers that topic done for now, although he has no doubts that Steve will want to talk to him about his liberal breach of government agencies’ servers. For now, it is more important to take care of whatever wounds Steve is still hiding.

“Now, take off that shirt,” Tony orders again and does not wait for Steve’s acquiescence before tugging up the hem himself.

Steve hesitates for just another moment and then works on getting his left arm out of the shirt without extending it over the head. That has immediate alarm bells going off in Tony’s head. A growl escapes his throat as he thinks about how he is going to find out who did this to his husband and make their life a living hell from behind the scenes. Nobody ever needs to know it was him, but he will not let anyone get away with hurting Steve.

He did not expect that to make Steve stop his movement or to look at him with sudden hunger.

“What about dinner?” Steve asks, entirely too eager for him to be talking about the pasta cooking behind them.

Realization hits Tony when he looks down and finds his hand pressed possessively against Steve’s stomach, always seeking out Steve’s warmth. That Steve is ready to jump into bed with him after the revelations of this evening is hopefully a good sign.

“Get your head out of the gutter,” Ton says nonetheless and peels his hand off Steve’s skin. He feels the loss of contact dearly. “I want to have a look at whatever other bruises you have gathered from not getting out of the way of a falling tower of crates. I mean, really, Steve?” He clicks his tongue. “The Smithsonian?”

Too soon to joke about it, Tony realizes when Steve’s eyes drop down, biting his lip. “I’m sorry,” he says, almost on the verge of withdrawing completely.

Tony cannot let that happen, so he cups Steve’s jaw and puts their foreheads together for a moment. “You can make it up to me later.”

That is as much a question as it is a promise, and Tony sighs in relief when Steve relaxes in his touch immediately.

“Now who’s thinking dirty?” Steve asks, the corners of his mouth just barely tipping up. His tone lacks the usual suggestiveness and comes out more hesitant, hopeful even.

“I always have dirty thoughts when I’m with you,” Tony quips, deciding that they need to get back to normal as quickly as possible. Nothing has changed, really, apart from Steve knowing that Tony has been aware for years of what he has really been doing at work. “But first we’re going to look at your bruises.”

Tony really, really hopes it is just bruises hiding under Steve’s shirt instead of more blood. He is not sure he could stomach that inescapable evidence of how much danger Steve is in on a daily basis.

Steve keeps looking at Tony for a moment longer, trying to see whether Tony is telling the truth. Then he leans slightly backward to give him more room to manoeuvre and tugs up his shirt. “I’m already bandaged up. It’s fine, I promise.”

True enough, a bandage circles Steve’s torso, sitting right under his left armpit. It looks like it was done by someone who knows what they are doing. Beneath that, however, are still streaks of dried blood staining Steve’s skin.

“I like to wash up at home,” Steve offers quietly when Tony cannot drag his eyes away from the blood.

He cannot deal with this. Knowing Steve is a secret agent is one thing, but seeing him hurt is another. One that has nausea rising in his stomach, and his breathing going shallow despite Steve sitting in front of him, telling him everything is all right.

Tony turns away abruptly back to the kitchen counter, where dinner is still on the stove and likely completely ruined.

“How about you take a shower while I finish dinner? I’m starving.” That is a blatant lie. The only thing Tony needs right now is to go to bed with Steve and be held so he can convince himself that nothing bad is ever going to happen.

Steve gets to his feed and comes up behind Tony, sneaking his arms around him. Like this, he can feel Steve’s ribcage rising and falling. They breathe together for a long minute until Tony turns in Steve’s embrace and buries his face against the crook of Steve’s neck.

“We’re really all right?” Steve asks, barely more than a whisper.

That is what gives Tony enough strength to straighten. “I love you, Steve,” he intones firmly. There will never be any doubt about that. “I’ve known for two years and I’m still here. Just promise me you won’t take any unnecessary risks. I need you to always come home to me.”

His voice cannot convey the sheer amount of urgency he feels, but Steve’s expression softens in a way that tells Tony he understands nonetheless.

“I promise,” Steve says and bows down to place a kiss on Tony’s forehead. “I love you too.”

They could stay like this forever and Tony would die a happy man. It is hard to imagine things not working out while he is being held safe in Steve’s arms. They will be all right.

They finally part when the air is beginning to smell burnt and smoke starts rising from the pasta sauce. Tony curses and whirls around to save how much of it as he can. Steve moves towards the pot containing the pasta, which is probably beyond saving now too.

“We should eat this before I shower,” Steve comments lightly, probably too polite to suggest they scrap dinner altogether and order some pizza.

Looking down at the burned blob of sauce, Tony feels something rise in his throat that he fears is a sob. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead of words laughter bursts over his lips, slightly hysterical but originating from deep inside his belly. Steve looks at him in shock, thrown by the sudden outburst, but soon enough his expression breaks and he joins in the laughter.

Minutes pass before they manage to calm themselves, constantly setting each other off again. Tony’s abdomen burns from the strain and at some point, they start holding on to each other. When silence finally settles, they look at each other, faces flushed and out of breath.

“Come on,” Steve says, “I do want to eat something.”

Tony wants to protest, but Steve is already getting plates out of the cupboard, so he decides to take his failure in stride and puts the sauce on the table.

“Does Clint actually use a bow and arrow?” Tony asks when they are both seated and pick at their food. The good mood has not vanished again and he desperately wants to keep it that way. “It’s in his file and I can imagine him in tights but, I mean, is that whole agency a freak show?”

Steve grins before he catches on and schools his expression into something more serious. “We’re not a freak show.”

To Tony, he does not sound entirely convinced of that himself.

“Says the guy who runs around with a modern Robin Hood, a murderous ballerina and a guy who can recite every regulation, even from a place he’s not actually working at, from heart,” Tony quips. Out of all of Steve’s friends, Phil Coulson, despite how mild-mannered he is, always seemed the most likely to work for a government agency. “What does that make you? Captain America?”

Not a single muscle of Steve’s twitches out of place. For once, he does not give anything away. “Dinner’s getting cold,” he says as if that is a concern. The food can hardly get any worse.

Tony taps his fork against the plate. “You can’t even deflect properly,” he says with exaggerated disappointment. “Where’s that James Bond charm? Do you want me to teach you?”

A hint of a smile appears on Steve’s lips, which Tony counts as a victory. “You made my favourite,” he says and puts a forkful of quickly disintegrating pasta into his mouth.

“Oh, I get it,” Tony says, amazed by Steve’s willingness to eat just to keep Tony from asking any more questions. “You slay them with your stubbornness. That’s a good strategy. But only in theory. Because if they already know something’s up you’ll –”

The rest of Tony’s words get drowned out by Steve’s lips on his, who has leaned over the table, food entirely forgotten. Without protest, Tony reciprocates the kiss. He has a long memory, so he can continue his teasing later. He has waited two years for this, after all. At one point, they should also talk seriously about this.

For now, though, they will enjoy dinner. Perhaps Tony will even let Steve serve dessert first. He is easy to please like that.

---

After dinner – or after they finally stopped pretending to eat – Tony sends Steve off to take that shower. He waits until he can hear the water running before he gets out his phone and calls his father.

He cannot get the sight of blood on Steve’s skin out of his head, and he feels the burning need to talk to someone about it. Preferably someone who can do something to keep Steve safe.

While the dial tone rings in Tony’s ear, he brings the pot with the ruined sauce to the sink and fills it with water, watering down the red remains to something pink. Tony shudders. Steve might be seeing that exact same colour in the shower right now.

“Tony, it’s late,” Howard says by way of greeting when the call connects. As far as Tony can hear, it is not meant as an accusation, and Howard does not sound drunk. Sometimes the old man gets into terrible moods and makes life unnecessarily hard on everybody. “Did something happen?”

Tony snorts in response. Too much is happening that he is not privy too.

“I’m so glad you asked,” Tony replies, a hard edge beneath the words. “Because my husband just came home bleeding, telling me some bullshit story about falling crates in a museum archive.”

There is a short pause at the other end, in which Howard breathes deeply. “Steve got hurt at the Smithsonian?”

If Tony had not allowed himself to be fooled for the first years of his relationship with Steve, he would laugh at what terrible liars they all are. It is like they want him to become suspicious. Or, if he looked at it in a more favourable way, they might not like having to lie to him.

“Not you too, Dad,” Tony snaps, rapidly running out of patience. He can joke around with them all day long if he has to, pretending to be clueless, but Steve was hurt enough to be unable to move his arm. That is serious. “Listen, I know he’s with SHIELD. I’ve known for ages.”

Another pause. This one is less amicable and much shorter.

“How?”

No more denial, no more lies. Howard is down to business, his voice hard, even if he does not appear to be surprised. They might have regular arguments about how to lead Stark Industries, but Howard knows that Tony is smart. Smarter than is really good for him, at times.

“I mean, you couldn’t keep SHIELD a secret from Mum and me,” Tony says without giving a clear answer. “And you were just one of the founders instead of going out in the field for days or weeks at a time and coming home with new scars.”

He remembers having been stupidly excited when he found out that his father worked for a secret agency. That was like something straight out of a story. Even more so when he learned Aunt Peggy was Howard’s partner. Aunt Peggy, who was as likely to pick him up from school to treat him to ice cream as she was to teach him how to pick locks.

“All of this is classified information,” Howard says with the long-suffering tone of someone who knows that the damage is already done – and that there will be more. They do know each other well.

“And I’m not going to spread it,” Tony dismisses easily. He has no interest in politics or accidentally starting a war by selling information to the wrong person. He just wants to keep his family safe. “I didn’t even when you killed my pet robot, and I was furious with you then.”

He has no actual interest in revising that old story. That robot had been the first of many, and it kept following everybody around the house for weeks. Howard had taken one look at it and declared it a waste of time, but never protested when the dog made his office into its favourite place in the house. Tony likes to think that was the point where he and his father came to an understanding about what Tony will do with his brain.

“I didn’t kill him,” Howard protests with the same old indignation that has accompanied this argument for years. “Someone was in the house and I needed parts. It’s not my fault it followed me everywhere.”

Tony and his mother had been on a trip. When they came back and found not only the dog dead but that someone had broken into the home and Howard fought them off all by himself, Tony was very disappointed that he missed the whole thing. These days, personal safety is of much more importance.

“It was programmed to protect the family, and it lacked some self-preservation,” Tony argues, not quite an absolution but a concession. In a sly tone, he adds, “A bit like Steve, don’t you think?”

Steve is both loyal to a fault and unable to shirk any fight presented to him. If Bucky’s stories are to be believed, he has always been like that, even when he barely reached up to the bullies’ belly button. He loves art but, considering his personality, it is laughable to assume he would work in a museum instead of becoming a real-life hero.

“Tony,” Howard sighs, drawn-out, as if Tony has ever been one to be impressed by reproaches. ”This is part of why we don’t tell spouses. There is nothing I can do.”

Tony is not just any spouse, though, and he has never stopped at anything before he got what he wants. Right now, he wants Steve save, and Howard is in the perfect position to make that happen – or at least to make it more likely that Steve will keep coming home to Tony.

“Oh yes, there is,” Tony says, voice full of fake cheer.

He holds the phone away from him for a moment to listen for the sound of running water. It would not do to have Steve listen in on this conversation. Once he is satisfied that Steve is still occupied, he puts the phone back against his ear.

His father is talking, likely holding a speech about why exactly Tony cannot get involved in this matter, but he does not bother to listen. He has every intention to be involved.

He clears his throat and seizes his chance to talk when Howard makes an irritated pause.

“Here’s what you will do,” Tony says, no more trace of joking in his tone. “You will triple check everything you have on every mission you send him on. You will give him every support he needs, even if he says he doesn’t need any.” Accounting for Steve’s stubbornness surely will be the hardest part. “And when he comes back, you will make sure he goes through medical, even if he just went out to bring a letter to the post office. You’ll check him from head to toe. I don’t care whether that means he’ll be home a bit later. I might be able to bandage a scratch, but I cannot do anything if he dies in his sleep because his headache was hiding a brain haemorrhage nobody noticed because he said he was fine and you believed him.”

Steve has come home wounded before. He does a good job of hiding it, but once Tony knew to look, he saw all the little signs. The nights when Steve would wear long pyjamas even in summer. The mornings when he surprised Tony with breakfast instead of going on his extensive run. The days when he got a day off just like that. The evenings when Natasha supposedly went too hard on him during their workout.

“Every agent is supposed to check in with medical after a mission,” Howard says, although that is mostly a token protest.

“You know Steve. He’s always fine,” Tony says, almost spitting out the last word. He wonders whether this is how Steve feels when he has to drag Tony out of the workshop after a working binge, completely dehydrated and tired, but naturally willing to go on. “And right now, he’s washing a lot of blood off in our shower.”

Red flashes in Tony’s vision again, causing him to bite his lip until he is back in their kitchen, his knuckles white around the phone. Now that Steve is aware that Tony knows, he might agree to let Tony build him some better body armour. Metal plating, he thinks. From head to toe. No skin exposed that could bruise or bleed.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Howard says. Then, expecting Tony’s protest, he adds, “You know I love the both of you. Steve refuses to get special treatment just because he is married to you, but I’m always looking out for him.”

Tony had nursed many doubts before bringing Steve home with him. About whether his bisexuality would be a problem now that he was serious about another man to whether Howard would come to love Steve more than his own son. Steve is the loveable type, the very dream of all in-laws. They do love Steve, and Tony’s marriage just brought them all closer together.

He has no doubts that Howard is looking out for Steve. He just wants to make sure that Steve’s stubbornness is not going to win.

“I know, Dad,” Tony says quietly, staring in the direction of the bathroom. “I just can’t lose him.” The very thought feels like a crushing weight on his chest.

“We’ll all do our best that you won’t,” Howard promises. His voice is softer than any journalist has ever heard from him. It is nice, to be able to know this side of his father. At some points during Tony’s childhood, he was sure they would never have a friendly relationship.

“Great,” Tony exclaims, his voice choked with emotion. As if on cue, he hears the shower door clang. “The water stopped running so I gotta go. Greet Mum and Jarvis.”

Howard hesitates before he answers and Tony almost thinks they will attempt to talk about his feelings – or rather his fears. Then, however, Howard simply says, “Take care, Tony.”

Tony is relieved when the call disconnects. He should probably talk with his mother at some point. She knows how it feels to wonder whether her husband is going to come home.

He quickly turns to clear the table, but has barely managed to load the plates into the dishwasher, when Steve appears in the kitchen door.

A towel is slung around Steve’s hips, leaving his torso bare. The bandage is untouched, and the skin beneath it is once again clean. No hint of red in sight. Tony breathes in relief, even though he knows it will be some time until he can shake the memory of it.

“Who where you talking to?” Steve asks as he comes into the room. He sounds curious more than accusatory, although he should know who Tony’s conversation was about.

“Bruce,” Tony lies easily and greets Steve with a kiss before he turns back to the table. “He’s going to get me better supplies and show me how to take care of more serious wounds than that scratch.”

He does not quite manage to sound neutral. Learning advanced first-aid has never been on Tony’s wish list, especially not to patch up his husband. He will call Bruce, though. It never hurts to be prepared.

“Tony –” Steve says, almost a warning.

“It’s already done,” Tony replies tersely and glares at Steve, daring him to argue. “I could also throw a tantrum because you’re constantly putting yourself in danger as if you don’t care whether you’ll be able to come home at the end of the day. I care, Steve. If you died out there, I –” That weight on his chest becomes unbearably heavy, making it impossible to speak or breathe. The mere thought of losing Steve has him wrecked.

Steve, who was reaching for the pasta pot, immediately abandons the movement and turns to Tony, spreading his arms.

“Come here,” he says. He does not wait for Tony but steps closer himself, pulling Tony into a tight embrace.

Tony is afraid of putting pressure on the bandage and whatever wound lies beneath it, but Steve just holds him tighter, showing no sign of discomfort, so Tony allows himself to relax into Steve’s warmth.

This is the safest place on earth. Steve hums under his breath and the sound, barely more than a vibration, mingles with both their heartbeats. That eases the weight pressing down on Tony, a little more with every minute that passes with Steve close.

“Coming home to you will always be a priority to me, Tony,” Steve says, nothing but utter conviction in his tone. “You might say I’m a shit liar, but when we married, Peggy sat me down and asked whether that would be a problem, whether I could be trusted to concentrate on my work. I apparently passed muster. But there is no mission that is more important than you.”

Tony knows that. Ten years ago he might have been convinced he would die alone, having had one too many bad experiences with relationship. He trusts Steve completely, however. He trusts their love. He knows Steve will always want to come home to him. Hearing it said out loud makes it easier to believe it too.

“What if aliens invade Earth and try to kill us all?” Tony asks, aiming for a lighter tone, even though he does not make a move to step away. He could spend all of his days being held by Steve.

“I don’t think for a second you wouldn’t be the very first in line to get closer to them in hopes of finding out more about whatever tech they brought,” Steve replies dryly, and he is not wrong about that. “So I could stay close to you and say I’m doing my part in saving the world at the same time.”

Tony imagines that. Him bending over some alien machinery, while Steve stands over him, always vigilant, to protect him from any incoming enemies. Perhaps he could build metal suits for the both of them to better fend off the apocalypse.

“You’re ridiculous, do you know that?” he says out loud, although he does not doubt that Steve knows the way his thoughts have taken.

Steve leans down and puts their cheeks together, pressing a kiss against the soft skin of Tony’s neck. “And you love me.”

“I very much do,” Tony agrees, feeling the warmth of that in every fibre of his being.

“How about we go to bed?” Steve asks and Tony nods.

Neither of them moves, however, unwilling to let go of each other even for the few feet to their bedroom. That is all right. Tony is right where he wants to be. Home.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Not an ask but more of a question.... I love your idea of a Poly Capone x Napolian x Reader would be, but how would the massive age differences work? Like....The reader with Al would probably have 73 years of difference between them.... But the reader would probably be able to get him upto speed with the future.... But with Napolian? He's got at least 100-200 year difference with both of them! That's mind boggling 😵😵😵

I love the way your mind works, that didn’t occur to me XD Oh, but don't thank me for the Poly Capoleon, that was all the requester! ^^ 

Hmmm, lemme think. I really like this question. 

Okay! Since they didn’t have the tablet, they have not been conscious until the night Dexter brought the tablet to the Smithsonian- so luckily neither Al or Napoleon are really supernaturally ahead of you, intelligence-wise like a lot of vampire-human relationships. Of course, Napoleon is still a famous general and Al is a criminal genius, but that's... sorta... more normal... I guess... 

Anyway! There is still, of course, a culture / time shock. With Al, they probably go through the same motions that Amelia and Larry did, with the 20′s-30′s slang and such (Amelia Earheart went missing about 10 years before Al Capone died, so they probably knew of eachother through newspapers and such.) but Napoleon was legit born into the ancient regime of before the French revolution. DEMOCRACY???! (Al would get a kick out of telling him about the American Revolution. Taxes?? NO. They bond.) 

Okay heres where I magically become a historian, watch. 

Al: 1899-1947 

Age - Due to Jon Bernthal being 33 when he did Al, and Al not knowing about his take down, death, or the fact that he becomes 'fat', we'll assume that the spot in his life that Al is stuck in as a cardboard mjseum piece is when he was 33. In real time, when Al Capone was 33, it was 1932 (Correct my maths if I am wrong, please XD), which is just after the Prohibition, but before World War 2- Great Depression time. 

Also, jazz, blues, gospel, and folk music, swing jazz, and RADIOS are growing in popularity, but he's still sorta in the 20's state of mind. Which was flappers, automobiles, nightclubs, movies, bootlegging, and jazz. 

That’s the kinda mindset Al is in right now. 

He is also an educated man, so he probably knows his share about the French Revolution and Napoleons empire. 

Now, our(NATM's) Al acts really old fashioned, and no amount of teaching him about your world is going to change that. He doesn't like TV, he wants to play cards instead. Stuff like that, he acts like a Boomer except worse because he is older. 

(As far as some prejudice goes, I think Al is a total feminist, being a 20's man, he respects his elders and wont hurt children, and he doesn't have any particular racist feelings about any other ethnic groups. He of course wouldn't be used to the equal rights and voting rights and such, but he's just like 'Good on ya')

Okay! Moving on to Napoleon. 

Napoleon: 1769-1821

Age - Due to Alain Chabat being 51 when he played Napoleon, we're gonna say Napoleon is 51 as well in this moment in 'time'. So, he's about to die basically. The real Napoleon died when he was 51, in 1821. So this version of Napoleon, knows most of what happened in the real Napoleons life except his death. 

Okay! So, at this point in his life, he should be living on Saint Helena(And island South Atlantic) where he was exiled to by the British. 

He's going to have the most issue with modern world- its a culture shock for him! But he's also very intelligent, and our(NATM's) Napoleon is fasinated by everything. He wants to know all about your world, and Al's world! Flapper? Bootlegging? Radio? Meme? TOUCH SCREEN?? Take it slow, boy is ancient XDD 

He doesn't wanna go slow, though, he wants to consume all the information immediately, because he’s curious and also he hates feeling so behind, so you and Al may be in for a week or more of non stop learning in the archives (What better place to learn though, right?? The Smithsonian!!) until Napoleon’s head totally explodes. Just make him sleep and bring him lots of water. Al will have to carry him to a comfy rest place at multiple points. 

He’ll feel behind every now and then for the rest of his ‘life’ probably, but watching Al get confused about memes (And you assuring him that there is plenty you want to know about his time) makes him feel better. 

Both: 

Okay, I hear you saying ‘Yes, I just read all that boring stuff about history and culture- but age difference, Hannah,’. Yes, okay, we’re onto that now, I’m sorry XD 

Even without the... you know... being from different centuries, there is still a huge age difference. No matter how old you are, one of them is either going to be older or younger then you. Al is thirty three, and Napoleon is fifty one. Of course, in the ‘olden times’, especially Napoleons era, it wasn't a big deal for there to be huge age differences between a couple. So he isnt really bothered by it- except to ask you if you are okay with it, because whether he knows or is unaware about the new prejudices against age difference, he doesn't know how you feel about age differences and needs to- our Napoleon is a gentleman. 

Ordinarily in Al’s era, I think they were starting to get wierded out by certain age differences, but I honestly don’t think Al really cares except to tease either you or Napoleon a bit or a lot. Just good fun- and also he really liked it. 

They’re honestly perfect for age difference relationships XDD They’re both gentlemen! ^^ They’ll ask how you are with things every step of the way. 

I ah... might’ve gone too far with this question… haha. Thank you though, I had a lot of fun answering it! 

[ironwoman18]

The Worst Third Date Ever part 7

Chapter 7: Jealous

The valley parking guy brought back his car to the bar's door, Spencer opened the passenger door for her and then he put their paintings on the backseat, he got in and drove to the restaurant.

When they arrived he parked the car and went to open the door for her. She liked his chivalry and when he offered his arm for her to hold it.

She had to admit this was the first guy who did this to her, at least this much. They walked in and the waiter led them to a table next to an elderly couple.

The restaurant was Italian so they both picked a plate of pasta, Spencer wanted the bologna sauce and Max ordered the carbonara sauce.

While they waited they talked and laughed softly. Then the food arrived and both eat. They were starving so there was not a pause to talk very much.

He asked her if she wanted a dessert but she was full. Maybe a takeaway one could be better, then while he headed to pay Max walked to the bathroom.

In there was the elderly woman washing her hands. Max did the same and refreshed some of her makeup.

The woman next to her sighed "fifty wedding anniversary, can you believe it?" Said her looking in the mirror.

"That's pretty impressive. My longest relationship was 2 years" said Max looking at her.

"And how long have you been with that handsome man you were with at the table?"

"Oh Spencer and I aren't a couple. We are taking things slowly"

"I see... but be careful honey. He is very handsome and if you don't catch him with both hands firmly, you may lose him" said the woman looking at her "and I know you like him a lot, I can see it in your eyes" she blushed softly looking down.

"Ok thank you for your advice" the woman smiled and leave her thinking.

Meanwhile Spencer was paying when the elderly man arrived and stood next to him "today I celebrated my fifty wedding anniversary"

"Congratulations sir, I hope I would be that lucky to expend my life with someone that long"

"I'm sure your girlfriend will be that person"

"Oh no... s...she isn't my girlfriend, she want us to take this slowly, I understand that past experiences may make people reject a new one because they don't want to screw it up"

"Oh boy, I know you don't ask it but I will give you an advice. You need to make the bold move to ask her to be your girlfriend. She is beautiful and you don't know if, by taking things slowly, you ended up losing her for someone bolder"

Spencer looked at the man and nodded "thank you sir, I will think about it" the elderly man nodded and smiled then his wife walked by and kissed his cheek softly.

"Haven't you pay yet?"

"No the young man just finished" he said while Spencer got back his card from the cashier "good night boy"

"Good night sir, ma'am" he looked at the woman and she smiled.

Then he walked away to wait for Max, he was thinking about what the man said to him. He was right about it, but he was also worried that Max will get upset about it.

When she arrived they both headed to his car. Neither of them mentioned the elderly couple's words for them. Max asked him to take her back to her apartment so she could study a little then went to sleep.

He did as she told him and when they arrived to her place he stopped in front of it.

"Max" he said turning off the car and⁸ like to keep the painting I made" he looked at her.

"I would love to Spencer but only if you keep mine" she said looking at him.

"It would be an honor to have it" they both smiled and he reached the painting to her and she held it. She leaned in and kissed him gently then got out of the car and walked to the door. He stayed there until he was sure she was in.

Then he drove back home. When he got in he put the painting on the table. He will buy a framework so he can hang the painting properly.

Then changed into some comfortable clothes and lay down falling asleep almost immediately.

The next day he put on a short sleeve white shirt with black pants and his black jacket. He has to be at the Smithsonian at a quarter to eight, it was just seven o'clock so he ate a sandwich with his coffee then went to his car and drove there.

When he was parking she called him "hey Spencer, where are you?"

"I'm parking" he said turning off the car.

"Oh ok. I'm at the main building, at the auditorium"

"Ok perfect see you there" he finished the call and walked there. On his way there a woman stopped him.

"Doctor Reid?" She said.

He stopped and looked at her "yes, who are you?"

"I'm Veronica Smith. I'm the director of the art program of the museum. When I was in charge of the program for kids with disabilities I invited you here for a lecture about the art and the persons with disabilities"

"Oh yeah I remember. It was when I wasn't an active agent at the FBI two years ago"

"Right. I'm still grateful for that, because you open the eyes of our executives and the parents of those children to bring them here and learn art"

He smiles and nods "it's always a pleasure to help. Psychology is a huge area to help people to understand the impact of some activities in our emotions and knowledge"

She nodded and smiled "I'm totally agree..."

Meanwhile Max decided to walk out of the auditorium to look for him when she saw him talking to this woman. Immediately her mind when to what the elderly woman said last night.

'...but be careful honey. He is very handsome and if you don't catch him with both hands firmly, you may lose him'

And she felt jealous, she usually was not a jealous person but her relationship and her feelings for Spencer were different.

She decided to walk over to them, her body language could tell everyone that she was upset but her face was calm "oh hello Spencer, I was looking for you"

"H-hey Max" he could tell her voice was not her normal self and he could tell she was jealous "this is Veronica, your soon-to-be boss" he said the last part in a subtle warning tone.

She understood and relaxed "oh so you are Doctor Smith, right?"

"Yes and you are Maxine Brenner. One of candidates, I didn't know you and Spencer were friends" she bit her lip and just nodded. She cannot correct her because they are not a formal couple "well it was good to see you, Doctor Reid. I hope you could come over and give more lectures for our community"

He nodded "sure I would love to" he smiled and looked as she left then turned to Max who was looking down playing with her hands "hey you ok?"

"Y-yeah... j-just let's go" she said and walked back to the auditorium. She was ashamed of her attitude, this was not her. She must really have deeper feelings for him than she thought. Because she did not feel like this when she saw him kissing Cat, even though that was a hot kiss, but now just saw him talking with a woman with executive clothes make her jealous.

He walked in the auditorium following her "Max, where do you want me to sit?" He asked when they reached the stage.

"At the first row. Somewhere I could see you" he nodded and moved her to the backstage.

"Max, relax you will do it alright. You are a good teacher and I'm sure you will nail it" she nodded looking at him.

"Thank you and I'm sorry I didn't know what happened to me" he looked at her "and don't you dare profile me Spencer" he lifted his hands like saying 'I haven't say anything' and she runs her hand into her hair "we will talk after the conference" he nodded.

"Ok" he leaned in and kissed her cheek gently and left to sit where she told him.

The class started and he could see lot of mothers and their children taking note and the kids painting as Max was explaining to them. He smiled at that and she looked relaxed and happy teaching them.

He took some notes and saw her looking at him now and then. When he saw her looking at him, he just gave her a thumbs up and smiled at her.

After an hour the class was over and they clapped at Max. Then some mothers walked towards her to thanked her for the class, their children enjoyed it.

He smiled and when they were alone he helped her picked her things up. Veronica walked over at her and congratulated her. She told her, to plan a class for the blind kids. Because the Smithsonian had groups with different levels of the same disability. This was just the autistic children then the blind children and much more, so they have to test if someone can plan for all of them.

Max nodded and thanked for the opportunity and promised to do her best then Veronica left.

"Oh God... that was a surprised twist" she looked at him "thank you for coming Spence" she held his hand gentle.

"It's ok I'm glad you invited me here. I'm happy to see these kids learning something that will help them no just with their abilities but also to socialize" he smiled at her "do you want to visit the museum? JJ said she will bring her children her today"

"Sounds like fun" she smiled and they both were to leave her stuffs in her car and then went back in the museum. Then they met with JJ and her kids. Will was busy that weekend so it was just her with the kids and Spencer with Max.

"So you are my God father's girlfriend" said Henry matter-of-fact.

"Henry..." said JJ rolling her eyes.

"Um... he isn't my boyfriend" she said looking at him "but I was wondering... do you think we look good together?" She asked in a whisper just for him.

"Yes I do" he smiled at her and she smiled back.

Max and the kids where looking to a painting and she was explaining some stuffs to them. Meanwhile JJ and Spencer looked at them.

"So are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend?" Asked JJ.

"Yes. But she kept saying she want us to go slowly and then today she looked at me talking to woman and got jealous"

"That's a good sign Spence. It means she has deeper feelings for you and is afraid to lose you. So you should totally ask her to be your girlfriend"

He looked at her and smiled "you think so?"

She laughed "yes I do, go for her. You aren't the same shy kid I met when we started at the BAU and I'm sure you are more secure" she patted his arm.

"Thank you JJ" he wrapped an arm on her shoulders softly.

"Oh and by the way, Will wanted us to go with him this Christmas to New Orleans. His family want to see the children"

"Sounds like fun" he smiled as he saw Michael and Henry having a good time with Max "they love her"

"She is a great person and complements you" he nodded.

They stayed at the museum until noon then they went to buy some hotdogs and sodas. The kids played at the park while the adults chatted about random things.

After a while JJ and the kids left and leave them alone.

"JJ is great" said Max while they walked to her car.

"Yes she is. We became best friends almost immediately after we met. She was the first person who collected me Spence. Then it became common, especially Emily and other members of the team but mostly JJ" she smiled at him.

"She most feel really close to you to named you godfather of her children"

"Yes she does. It sometimes shocks me because, we both work at the same place and we both have the same odds to die at any time. And the common thought is that the godfather will watch over his godchildren if their fathers die"

"She most feel like you have more possibilities to survive than her"

"Could be" they reached to her car "um... by the way I wanted to talk to you about what happened today" she sighed.

"Spencer it was just..."

"A jealous moment?" She looked up at him.

"I told you not to profile me"

"I can't help it. It's like a second nature for me" she leaned on her car "what I wanted to say is..." he took a deep breath "Max, will you be my girlfriend?" She looked at him in shock. She did not expected him to ask her that. Especially after what happened "yesterday an elderly man who was next to us told me to ask you to by me girlfriend because there could be any guy. With a less risky job that could catch your attention and make you forget about me so I'm taking a leap of faith and ask you. Even when you wanted things slowly..."

"Spencer...?"

"Yes?"

"Just shut up and kiss me" he took it as a yes and just did what she said. He kissed her.

OOooOOooOO

Ok that's all for this chapter. Hope you liked it.

I am placing this few chapters in the late October and November.

Maybe after a Christmas chapter where hespend it with her family maybe even he will introduce her his mother, I will do a time jump to the events of episodes 9 and 10.

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

Kindergarten Crush

Prompt: thank ya girl @kpopgirlbtssvt for this!

Y/n is a kindergarten teacher who has decided to take her kiddos on a ~super duper~ field trip to the museum where she finds herself a little too interested in one of the exhibits.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word count:  5094

Warnings: language...maybe? Length also? I have a problem with over writing my stuff and I feel like it gets boring and too lengthy. Also my computer always fucks up the formatting so that might also be an issue. 

Here we gooooooooo

----------------------------------------------------------

“Alright come along my little ducklings!” You smiled happily, leading a small line of children off a yellow bus and out into the parking lot of the Smithsonian.

“Miss y/n how come we have to go to the museum? It’s soooooooo boring!” moans a small boy who huffily stomped down the stairs of the bus.

“Joey, that is actually a very good question! but we’re gonna have to work on your manners,” you smile while making sure to wave a stern finger at the cute little boy. “Can anyone remember what we were learning about yesterday and our word of the week?” you ask lightly, making sure that all children are accounted for before entering the large building.

Multiple children raised their hands excitedly, wanting to be the first to answer the question (most likely because you rewarded each child who answered correctly with either a small piece of candy or a cute pencil topper) You looked around, making a thoughtful face as you decided who to pick on. Your mind became set on a red haired boy named Connor. He had been quite respectful during the bus ride over and had been nice enough to give his early morning juice box to a clumsy girl who had dropped hers. “Connor? Would you like to answer?”

As the rest of the kids lowered their hands in slight disappointment Connor smiled happily and took a second before answering, “um we um we learned about uh the uhm the first airplanes! And then um the uh the word was um respect!” he answered happily.

You giggle at his slightly rough response and hand him a small piece of strawberry taffy, his favourite and gave a quick response, “Good job Connor! we are learning about the very first planes and how they’ve helped us in history. Your also correct for our word of the week being respect. Now can anyone tell me what respect means?”

Another round of hands shoot into the air and you waste no time before choosing the next student, “Charlie go ahead,”

“Respect is when you are super nice to someone,” the little girl smiles sweetly as she answers the question.

“Good job charlie, here you go honey,” You giggle at her cuteness while handing her a little kitty pencil topper that she gladly took before putting it into her pocket.

“Thank you miss y/n!” she yells happily, making you smile down at her with a grin of your own.

Before going into the museum you wanted to make sure that all your students knew how they needed to behave for the day so you whistled a fun little tune to get everyone’s attention (they were suppose to attempt to copy it back to you but most of them failed each time... it was extremely cute)

“Alright guys, we gotta make sure to be super respectful to all the people and exhibits. That means no shouting or touching things you’re not suppose to, so always ask beforehand okay buddies?”

The children all replied with a synchronized chorus of “Okay buddy!”, another one of your fun rituals.

A wide grin was painted onto your lips as you lead all the kids and chaperones into the museum with the hope of a fun day following beside you.

------------------------------------------------------

“Miss who are they?” one of your students asks quietly and points to the most populated and well maintained exhibit in the entire museum.

“That’s Steve Rogers and his best friend, Bucky Barnes. Mr. Rogers is Captain America and that’s what he looked like way back when he first started being a hero, same with his friend there.” your explanation was quiet and you spent a bit more time looking at the handsome face of the Winter Soldier when the old timey video paused to share a few facts of the metal-armed soldier.

You were pulled from your small day dream by an even smaller hand gripping your shirt, “Can we go closer miss y/n?” Conner asked, which was quickly followed by a small chorus of please’s by the other three kids in your touring group.

You nod kindly before responding, “of course guys, remember to stay near me though,”

The group of you go over to the small room, full of World War Two memorabilia and everything having to do with the famous super soldier known as Captain America. A video played on repeat as the sound echoed throughout the dimly lit room softly. The four children that accompanied you slowly spread out, keeping mind to stay close enough for your comfort as you slowly made your way around the room, being careful to read everything that was presented to you.

The history behind Steve Rogers was interesting, but after a little bit, you started to notice how interested you were in Bucky. He was, after all, your favourite Avenger so it wasn’t too surprising to you that he was what caught your eye the most.

Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable...

It was a sad story...the origin of The Winter Soldier.

Barnes, was the only Howling Commando, to give his life, in service of his country.

The video clearly needed to be updated... Though you knew deep down that, even though Bucky was alive, he’d had enough trauma and life experience for an entire soccer team. You couldn’t imagine what went through his head everyday and the extraordinary weight that he carried on his broad shoulders.

Very handsome broad shoulders at that...

“Miss y/n! Can you come help me be as tall as Captain America please?” Conner asks from across the room rather loudly.

It caught the attention of a few bystanders, including an extremely tall man who was giving you weird vibes with his hooded figure and dark clothing. You only glanced at the mysterious man before going over to the small boy looking up at the screen that held Steve Rogers height before and after the serum.

“Connor, I’m not even as tall as Mr. Rogers before the serum, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to lift you up enough...” you admit gently, not wanting to upset the small boy.

“That’s okay, I just wanna know what it’s like to be taller,” he smiles widely, making you laugh.

“I’d like to know what it’s like to be taller too, Connor” you joke with a light giggle before trying to lift him up as far as possible.

“Look miss y/n! we’re just as tall as Captain America,” Connor laughs, almost making you drop him. 

In your defense it’s generally just hard to lift anything with how small you are. 

“I wanna try!” 

                                                               “Me too!”

                         “Wait I wanna be tall too!” 

Your small group of kids all ran up at once as you gently put Connor on the floor, their loud voices ringing throughout the small room and earning a few glares from the other people trying to enjoy history. 

“Keep your voices down everyone, remember what we agreed to outside?” 

“Respect” they all chorused quietly, earning a breathy laugh from yourself and a chuckle from the strange man who had been looking at you earlier.

You squint your eyes in suspicion at the loss of distance that had occured within the last few minutes between your group and the tall stranger. It made you a little nervous and left a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you brushed it off as being a paranoid teacher. Although it could totally be a human trafficker... Maybe a modern day Ted Bundy? What if he was a weirdo who was gonna try and take your purse?

bzz..bzzz..bzz...

you were pulled out of your thoughts by the soft feeling of your phone going off in the pocket of your skirt. 

“Hey guys this is one of the other groups, don’t go anywhere alright? I’ll be back in a jiffy,” You state quietly and walk a few feet away, turning your back from the slightly noisy children who were now trying to lift each other up to the height of the glowing screen. 

“Hey gretta, everything okay?” 

“Everything is fine, y/n. I was just calling to say that all the kiddos in my group are getting a bit hungry and was wondering if we would head to the park soon for lunch?” Gretta, who was a mom of one of your students was really your right hand during field trips like these.

She was always extremely helpful with snacks, reservations, carpool, everything really. Gretta was also a close friend of yours and it was always a comfort to have her around for support when times got stressful.

“Yeah, go ahead and tell the other group leaders to head down to the entrance in...15 minutes? That way we can all walk together,” you state, taking a quick glance back at your students. 

“alright, you got it boss. Everything going alright?” she asks gently, wanting to make sure you weren’t too stressed out. 

“Everything has been great so far. Although there’s this one dude-” “Ooohhh! Go get him y/n!” Gretta jokes, her heavy laugh having no trouble being heard from the small phone in your hand. 

“What? No that’s not what I was gonna say... He is really tall though,” 

“Everyone is really tall compared to you,” your friend laughs even louder, making you hold the phone away from your ear for a few seconds before returning to its original position. 

“Mean-” “But true” “Okay I’m leaving now,” “Love ya y/n!” 

You sighed heavily, a smile on your face due to the strange friend you had. The smile didn’t stay long before you turned around and spotted the sight in front of you. All your kids were laughing happily, one of them lifted in the air so high that she was taller than the height of their favourite super soldier. 

“Excuse me, put her down right now!” your brain was going a mile a minute as your feet furiously carried you over to the stranger who was holding two of your students. All of your students ceased their laughter as they see the angry face of their teacher. 

“What makes you think you can start picking my students up without even knowing who they are!? Honestly what kinda creep-” “I’m sorry, doll. Must’ve been quite the scare to see a creep like me helping your kids out,” The stranger apologizes as he puts the two kids back on their feet, pulling his hood down to show you a shiney, white-toothed, smile. 

“Oh my god...” you mutter and nearly choke on your spit as you look up at the man in front of you. 

“Miss y/n he’s not a bad guy! He’s the cool robot guy from the video,” Connor exclaims happily. 

“That’s me, alright. The Cool Robot Guy” he nods and waves, a shiny metal hand coming out from his hoodie pocket. 

“Uhm... Mr. Barnes, hello. I’m so sorry I yelled...it’s just, I thought you were-” “Nah I get it, some tall scary dude messing with little kids is a scary sight, you did the right thing. Also please don’t call me Mr. Barnes, it’s Bucky,” 

“Right, Bucky. It’s very nice to meet you sir, my name is y/n, these are my students- Charlie, Connor, Anna, and Fargo. We’re here on a field trip today to learn about planes but got a little distracted,” You laugh lightly, trying to cover up the embarrassment of telling off one of Earth’s mightiest heroes. 

“That’s quite exciting guys. You know, I get to fly planes all the time,” Bucky states, his smile growing at the gawking children in front of him. 

He continued to tell your small group of students all about his adventures from being a superhero, answering every single question they asked him. You had skillfully started to move the group towards the stairs, knowing full well that it was time to take the kids to lunch. There wasn’t a moment of silence as Bucky handled the curious children and their prying questions. He didn’t hesitate to answer anything that was thrown at him, which you admired wholeheartedly. The kids asked how his arm worked, what it felt like, if they could feel it. Anna even asked if he could take it off. That one made Bucky pause and you noticed the slight movement of the metal panels clenching in stress from the invasive question. 

“Um, no sorry hun. It doesn’t really work like that,” he answers quietly before looking back at you, “You’re pretty quiet, dollface. You got any questions for me?”

“No, sir. I think I’m okay just listening for now,” you smile politely, blushing at the nickname that had so beautifully fallen from his lips.

He gives you a wide grin and puts an arm behind his head to mess with his dark hair, “jeez, really making me feel old with all that ‘sir’ garbage you’re throwing around,” 

A laugh escapes your lips at his joking comment and you can’t help but to mutter a quiet ‘sorry’. It didn’t take too long to find the rest of your class and the parents who had agreed to help out for the day. When your group finally came into view, Bucky in tow, any idea of going to lunch was thrown out the window immediately as the small army of children began to shout in excitement. 

It was great meeting Bucky Barnes, but honestly you were so hungry. 

------------------------------------------------------

You were extremely nervous. 

Your hands couldn’t stop pulling at the soft fabric from the sundress that you had put on in hopes of impressing your date for the night.

That date being Bucky Barnes...

“Oh gosh...” Your hands roughly move down your face in a stressed manner.

“Why did I say yes? Why would I think, at any moment in time, that this, was a good idea,” 

“What if he hates my dress? This is my favourite dress...” you mumble to yourself, a sad expression falling onto your face as you think of how someone as dark and brooding as Bucky would like the light yellow dress you had on. 

As you were about to go to your closet to change into something more...Bucky, the doorbell to your small apartment went off, making you jump and let out a small squeak of surprise. There was no other choice but for you to go and open up the door to reveal the nervous soldier standing outside of it. 

“Hey, y/n. You look absolutely gorgeous,” He compliments quietly, looking down at your small frame before handing you a very pretty bouquet of baby pink teacup roses. 

“Thank you, Bucky. You look really nice too,” The smile on your face was bright as you smelt the lovely perfume of the cute roses you held in hand. 

It was true, Bucky looked really good. He wasn’t wearing anything fancy, just a dark blue Henley shirt with nicely fitting, black jeans. His hair was put up into a messy bun that suited his sharp jawline and gave a lovely view of his pretty blue eyes. 

“Thanks dollface, you ready to go? I got a whole day planned out for us. A movie, nice dinner, and then I was thinking coffee afterwards?” Bucky held an excited smile on his face.  

“That sounds quite nice, is it okay if we go somewhere that has hot chocolate though? I don’t really like coffee all that much,” You mumble out the last part, not wanting to be too much of a bother. 

“No problem pretty girl, let’s get goin” He smiles down at you once again and places a hand out for you to take, which you gladly do.

It was impossible to fight the large grin on your face as Bucky lead you out of your apartment, officially starting the most stressful, yet exciting date of your life. 

You really hoped it would go well.

------------------------------------------------------

“Buck stop! It tickles too much!” your laughing bounced around the room as the slightly scary man with a metal arm tries giving you a leg massage.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong though... So weird,” he mumbles, acting oblivious to the fact that he was trying to tickle you into into a coma.

It had started out as a calm day in when Bucky had called you to hang out at the Avengers Tower with him during the God-awful storm that had torn its way through New York. You had watched movies, gotten lunch together, you had even played cards just because Bucky didn’t believe you were better at gambling than he was. Now, you were both in his room, you laying across his bed on your stomach and Bucky straddling your lower back as he gently pushed his fingers into the back of your thighs.

“I’m gonna kick you in the face if you don’t stop right now James Barnes!” You warned, the venom that was supposed to be in your voice, falling flat.

“Oh no I’m soooo scar- OW” he shouts as the ball of your foot hits Bucky right in the chin.

His hands leave your thighs and go up to cradle his face. He slides off of your back, allowing you to flip over and sit up to properly face the hurt “man” in front of you.

“Oh you poor baby,” you mock worriedly and gently place your hands on his, “you want me to kiss it better, bunny?”

Bucky rolls his eyes at the nickname but still muttered out a quiet ‘yes’ which makes you giggle. It had been two months since you had met James Buchanan Barnes at the Smithsonian Museum of American History, and it had been the best two months of your life in all honesty. He was such a kind person.and every second you spent with him was another second your heart spent melting. Although the first date was a bit awkward because of your shy personality and overwhelming amount of nerves, Bucky still wanted to keep seeing you. 

“I’m waitin’ doll,” he mumbles, puffing his lips in a slight pout, and you couldn’t help but to just squish his face in your hands from complete adoration. 

“You’re just so adorable, I don’t wanna close my eyes,” you respond, lips copying the same movements as his. 

“sometimes you just gotta make sacrifices lovie,” Bucky states, pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Your face was the color of a goddamn strawberry at the sound of such a cutesy nickname coming from the former assassin. “Buck...” you stumble shyly, pushing your face into his shoulder to hide the embarrassment. 

“Nuh-uh, up here doll, my face is still wounded and I need you to heal me,” He argues, hooking his index finger to the tip of your chin and tilting your head upwards for Bucky to see. 

You puff out your lips and he lightly pecks them, a proud smile displayed on his handsome face. After one kiss, Bucky couldn’t help himself and decided to plant lovely little pecks all over, from eyes to nose, left temple to right. You laughed at his cute antics and tried to push his face away in attempts to make him stop. 

“Bunny stop it!” You giggle out, mushing his face between your small hands while trying to shy away from his kisses. 

Bucky laughed along with you as you held his face back, making it look incredibly silly. 

“Shweethart, you ghatta shtop,” he chuckles, pressing his fingers into your hips as his tap out. 

Your hands drop from bucky’s face, going to rest on his own hands that were still squeezing your hips. Both of you stayed silent, just enjoying the sweet moment at hand. Bucky Barnes was such a strange guy in your eyes, on the outside he was a hardcore, beefy, assassin. But, on the inside, it was like he was made of cotton candy and those cute little chocolate-filled crackers that were shaped like pandas. 

“Bunny can we go get food?” You ask, hand going to your stomach to feel the small grumble. 

“Of course, lovie,” Bucky responds, placing a soft kiss on the apple of your cheek and lifting both of your bodies up to begin the short journey to the kitchen.

Your legs were wrapped around Bucky’s hips, arms around his neck, and forehead resting in the crook of his neck. It was so hard to keep yourself from hugging Bucky, he was always so warm and even though he was super muscley, it was so comforting to be in his tight embrace. He had a specific way of hugging you too, he would wrap one arm around your shoulders and the other around your waist, pushing his face into the fluff of your hair. Your legs would be so close, sometimes he would pull you onto his feet just to lose those few extra centimeters of space and each time, after the hug was over, he would nudge his nose along your cheek before giving you a cute little peck on either your nose or lips. 

“You want a snack or do you want me to make you something?” He asks, setting you down on the counter and going over to the fridge, but not before giving your hips a soft squeeze.

“It’s okay bunny, I can make myself something,” you state, beginning to hop off the counter. 

Bucky stopped you, “It’s alright, I’m hungry too so I’ll just make something for us both. You want mac n’ cheese, baby?” 

“Yes please,” you respond in a quiet tone, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in a shy manor.

Bucky smiled happily at you, running the pad of his thumb over the exposed part of your lip and making it come out of its hiding place, “don’t do that lovie, you might hurt yourself,” he grumbles lowly. 

“Right, sorry buck. Can I go get my phone, maybe a ponytail to put your hair into as well?” It wasn’t like you needed to ask, but due to the fact that it wasn’t your house and that you haven’t met all who resided within the pristine tower, you felt it necessary. 

“Of course sweetheart, you remember which room is mine?”

“The one on the left with the big wolf on it,” you nod your head in satisfactory, when bucky gave you a thumbs up to signal you had answered correctly. 

Pushing off the counter, you head back to Bucky’s room, thankful that you didn’t run in to anyone on the way. You had yet to meet Bucky’s two best friends Steve and Sam, as well as many of the other Avengers. Although, you had, had the pleasure of meeting Tony Stark the first time Bucky had invited you to come over. Out of nervousness and really just wanting to make a good first impression, you had bought a basil plant for the billionaire. Tony had laughed at your nice gesture, taking the plant and giving you a kind hug afterwards. He had thanked you and told Bucky that you were more than welcome to stay as long as needed. 

It didn’t take you long to find your phone and a ponytail to put up Bucky’s pretty hair. But, you most definitely got distracted by the thought of wearing a Super Soldiers hoodie. That’d be pretty badass, you thought. So, before going back out to enjoy the tempting meal that was now giving off a very wonderful smell that drifted through the air, you ventured into Buck’s closet and began to look through his sweatshirts in order to find the softest one. It didn’t take you long, he didn’t have too many sweatshirts to choose from, but you settled for an extremely soft, navy blue sweatshirt with a small symbol on the breast that showed a little toy gun on it. It didn’t seem very ‘Bucky’ to you so you just assumed it had been given as a gift. 

You slowly made your way back to the kitchen, almost instantly noticing the extreme hail that was pouring down outside. It made you uneasy and nervous to drive back to your apartment, and as you walked into the kitchen, phone shoved into your face to see the newest weather updates, you spoke your unease to Bucky.

“Bunny, is it okay if I stay longer than we talked, I don’t wanna drive in hail and google says-what..” your voice fades away as you see two more tall men in the kitchen then there was before you left. “Uhmm,” 

Your heartbeat immediately picked up to an unnatural speed and you subconsciously took a few steps back, not liking the three pairs of eyes staring down at your short frame. 

“Hey y/n, I thought it might be time for you to meet these guys,” Bucky speaks softly, almost as if you were a frightened animal that might dart away into the forest to hide. 

“Um,” you shook your head microscopically in disagreement, why didn’t he warn you? 

Bucky took a few steps to reach you and gently put his hands on either side of your face, “lovie I know you get nervous, but Steve and Sam aren’t gonna bite, okay? They just wanna meet you because of how important you are to me,” He gives you a reassuring smile when you nod your head in hesitant agreement. 

“Okay, Bunny...kiss?” you ask quietly, wanting just one more thing to boost your confidence. 

Bucky lets out a gruff chuckle before giving you a gently kiss, something you happily melted in to, “Look really nice in my sweatshirt too, doll” he mumbles against your lips before giving you a few more pecks. 

A small smile made its way to your lips as Bucky turned to his two best friends, “Alright guys, this is y/n. Y/n, this is my best friend Steve Rogers and some guy who follows the both of us around,” He jokes, motioning towards the tall men stood across the room.

“Screw you Barnes. At least my girl doesn’t call me by the name of a little fluffy animal-” “I’ll kill you right now bird boy,” Bucky threatened the laughing man, an edge to his voice but a smile on his face. 

“Hello, nice to finally meet you, I’m-” “Steve Rogers, I know. I studied you in college and... I mean your Buck’s best friend too” you mumble out shyly, face going red in complete embarrassment. 

The three men laugh at your small demeanor, finding your shy personality charming, “I’m Sam Wilson, I’m the normal one of the trio. No serum or metal arm, I’m all natural,” he states, a wink following his smart comment.

“You’re one comment away from gettin something metal shoved into your eye,” Bucky grumbles, his metal arm making a light tinking, as it flexed in stress.

You knew how Bucky was about his arm, even if it was a comment from a good friend it still tweaked something inside his brain. You decided it best to slowly slide your fingers between his metallic ones and give a small squeeze, hoping to help a little bit. Buck looked down at you and gave a grateful, half-smile, silently thanking you for the small gesture. 

“Is the food done, bun-er um Bucky?” The correction didn’t feel good in your mouth but if refraining from calling Bucky ‘bunny’ helped ease the tension, you would tough it out. 

Bucky noticed it right away and gave you a confused glance, but quickly brushed it off and answered you with a nod of his head, “yeah sweetheart, I got it all plated for you,” 

“Thank you,” you smile up at him and tug at his arm, Bucky knowing exactly what you wanted, leaned down to your eye level. 

Before you could connect your lips to his, Bucky pulled away slightly, “What’s my name, dollface?” “Buck-” “No, try again,” “Bunny,” 

He smiled and leaned in to give you a quick peck, but you didn’t want to settle for that, so you put your hands on either side of his face and deepened the small kiss just a bit. 

“I think I’m gonna need to schedule a dentist appointment after watching all of this,”

Sams comment went unnoticed by the two of you. Both of your brains were solely focused on the lovely kiss that sent shivers down your spine and had you tightly gripping Bucky’s shirt. Buck gently bit down on your lower lip, causing you to let out a small whine. You were sure that this would have continued if it weren’t for the startling sound of someone clearing their throat in the background.

Bucky pulled away slowly, letting out a small, exasperated sigh,  “It’s on the table, sweetheart,” he smirks, feeling proud about being the cause of the flustered girl in front of him. 

Your face was beet red as you silently made your way over to the small table that was sat by a window, all of the men in the room followed you with their eyes before all going to sit down at the table with you. Bucky sat down beside you and Steve and Sam sat across, both of them leaning forward and putting their elbows on the table. Bucky immediately let out a light cough and began shaking his head, a signal to his friends that they needed to undo their actions.

“she’s really picky about table manners,” He smiles, putting a comforting hand down on your thigh. 

“That’s alright, so why don’t you tell us about yourself? How long have you been... Friends with B-” “She’s my girlfriend Steve,” Bucky laughs loudly, “not completely a secret,” 

“He asked me last week,” you smiled down at your bowl of cheesy noodles, “Made a whole day of it and everything,” 

“I would have never thought that Bucky Barnes, the guy who use to get any girl he wanted, has finally found his anchor,” The grin on Steve’s face could only be described as an ecstatic one. He was so happy that his best friend had finally found his person, and a good one at that. 

“She’s mine alright, stuck with me forever,” Bucky grinned down at you and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your temple. 

“I’m okay with that though. It just means you’re mine too. My bunny,” 

It had been a good day, and you knew there were plenty of more to come with just you and your Bunny. 

[dabblinginmarvel]

Searching for a Dinosaur at the Museum

Request: Hiya! Can I please request an imagine where Steve Rogers falls in love with a nerdy, sweet, innocent, short (I’m 4ft 10 1/2in btw LOL) Kindergarten teacher (I’m also a kindergarten teacher😂). They meet when she takes the kids on a field trip to the museum (the one that has all of the Captain America and Bucky stuff), they talk a lot and he asks her on a date + he introduces her to the Avengers as his girlfriend + Steve being soft for the reader + sweet kisses, cuddles, and hugs.💜

Plot: You and Steve meet in the Smithsonian as you take your class on a tour to learn about heroes and you two develop a relationship.

Blog Tag: @kpopgirlbtssvt

A/N: Hm, yeah, this got longer than I had anticipated. I also altered the prompt slightly. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Warnings: None, maybe mildly unedited.

Word Count Total: 2030

Long Imagine #25

Title: Searching for a Dinosaur at the Museum

Field trip days were some of your least favorite days of the year. Anymore, it was hard to get chaperones, with everyone off at work or just plain unavailable.

Sure, you didn’t have to schedule them, but some of your units benefited from the educational experience they provided. It was all for the kids, after all.

You looked up at the display on the wall, not paying a lot of attention to it since you had come through two days ago for educational purposes, instead thinking of the enormous NCIS news you had learned last night while watching the show. You were pretty excited about what had transpired to the point that you accidentally bumped into someone behind you when you backed up a step.

“Oh, dear, I am so sorry!” You spun around and found yourself looking up into the blue eyes of a tall, broad-shouldered man. He was wearing a ball cap pulled low over his forehead.

He smiled. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s okay, I wasn’t looking where I was going, anyway.”

You at him, eyes squinting a little in thought, then they widened when you realized who it was. “H-hi.” You stuck out your hand.

“Hello….” He shook your hand.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” You grinned. All too soon, the smile faded and you remembered your job. “Oh, shoot, I can’t stay long. I have something to take care of. I’m sorry.”

You took off seven feet to your small group of students admiring the Bucky Barnes exhibit. They were pointing at the pictures.

“Miss Y/L/N! What does this say?” one of your students yelled.

“Joey, please remember our indoor voices.” You looked up at what he was pointing at. “This word is endured.’ It means it was something he lived through.”

“And this?” He pointed at another word, but his voice was quieter.

“Liberated means freed.”

Monica raised her hand. “Why does that number say 1916 and his birthday say 1917?”

You frowned at the inconsistent data. “That is a good question. Someone may have made a mistake.” You knelt in front of her. “You made a good catch today. When you find something like that in a museum, it’s always good to question that. We can go speak to someone that works here and find out before we leave.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Alexei asked and crossed his arms over his chest.

“That’s right. I’m not afraid to admit that sometimes even I have to ask questions. Adults are still learning, too. A good student learns from life along with their teachers. Can you do that?”

Alexei pursed his lips, then nodded.

“Good. Thank you.”

A clearing throat came from behind you. “If I may answer your question?”

It was the man. Steve.

“Steve, these are a few of my kindergartners. We’re learning about real-life heroes.”

“Bucky would be flattered.”

“You’re included in that, Captain.”

You glanced at the kids, their eyes wide and you knew you had split seconds before one of them made a noise. “Remember, inside voices.”

“It’s Captain America!” Joey squealed, bending at the knees and squeezing his eyes shut along with his fists.

“And he can only talk to you if you stay quiet!” you raised your voice by two decibels. The kids stopped chattering, but stayed antsy. “Now, what is James Barnes doing with two birth dates?”

Steve’s smile didn’t falter as he glanced at you, then the kids. He knelt in front of them.

“Bucky pretended that he was a kid that followed the rules, but he lied on his form when he was drafted. It was easier to lie about a birth date when no one was paying enough attention.”

“It says he enlisted, too.”

Steve shook his head. “He was drafted.”

You thought for a moment, then raised an eyebrow at Steve. He stood and his eyes looked confused. “We will have to talk more later about this. I want my students to do reports on heroes and I am sure at least some of them would love to talk about Captain America and his best friend.”

Steve’s mouth upturned in one corner. “I’d be happy to help your students.”

You didn’t miss the faces your students traded between each other. “Alright, kiddos, feel free to keep exploring this exhibit.”

“Are you getting his number?” Alexei asked.

“We have to get that information for your projects, don’t we?”

The kids dashed off to the costumes exhibit, which was five feet away.

You smiled again. “Thank you. I see we have a lot to learn from you, should you be willing to talk about it.”

He dug around in his pocket and you eyed the children in your care. It was much easier on a quieter museum day like today to watch the kids.

“I don’t want to keep you from the kids, so could I get your number?” Steve asked.

“Sure.” You typed in your number and hit save. “I will see you later.”

He waved back when you waved over your shoulder at him.

It took an hour before the children were back on the bus back to school and another half hour after that before all of the kids were being picked up by their parents.

Alexei was the last to be picked up and he turned to you, a frown on his face. “Did we really see Captain America today?”

You nodded. “You sure did.”

“Will we see him again like we did today?”

You looked up, thinking. He looked up, too. When you responded, you told him you would ask Steve Rogers if he would be willing to visit the class and a grin grew on Alexei’s face. His mother showed up and Alexei ran to her. They both waved at you, which you returned.

When you returned to your classroom, you pulled out your phone. Two text messages were waiting for you.

- Hey, it’s Steve, I hope I’m not disrupting your class, but here’s my number.

- Steve again, when you get this, would you like to meet me at Torri’s by the museum? I’ll pay for milkshakes.

You smiled and texted him back, asking if he meant today.

- I’m sorry, Sam decided to ask for me. I was going to wait a couple of days. But if you would like to, yes.

You practically beamed and agreed to meet him there in a little less than an hour if he was willing. Most of that extra time was used to do end-of-class checks. Quick as you could once your tasks were completed, you gathered your grading folder, purse, and lunchbag. The door got locked behind you and you walked to your car.

Steve met you at the little mom and pop shop just as you got to the door. He opened it for you with a smile and you followed him to the counter, offering to pay out of courtesy, and then to a booth with your shakes.

“So, you’re okay with this?” you asked, stirring it with your spoon. It had been established in line that this wasn’t supposed to be a date, but more of helping the kids. While both of you agreed to it, you still felt a little empty about it.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yes. But I meant you’re okay talking about this?”

He nodded and readjusted his milkshake by spinning it around on the table with the tips of his fingers. “Yeah. first I want to ask what that face you made in the museum was all about.”

“I was just thinking of my grandfather.”

He leaned forward.

“The army had a history of screwing up not only the health help he got, but his records.”

“What did they mess up?”

“Oh, you know, information about his wife, his service records….”

“Service records?”

“Yep. They got those wrong. I worry Bucky may have gotten the same treatment.”

Steve thought for a moment. “It could have happened. Maybe he didn’t lie.”

You shrugged, then sipped your milkshake.

The two of you spent the rest of the evening going over some questions for the kids - it was all basic details, like getting Bucky’s exhibit correct. By the end, he had also agreed to come in and talk to the class.

The class talk ended up being a success and most kids wanted to do their report on Steve or Bucky, to the point you had to randomly assign heroes to kids to be fair.

Steve kept in touch with you and you both grew increasingly closer over the next two months until Steve asked the question.

“Would you like to meet my friends? They keep asking about you.”

“Oh, do they now?” you asked slyly. He wrapped his hands around yours.

“Yes. Would you be up for it?”

You nodded. “I would be honored.”

He took your hand. You bit your lower lip in a smile.

As it turned out, you met them after you held a Valentine’s party for your students. The drive was nice and you both had a lot to talk about. When you entered the building, you were startled by the welcoming party. All of the team had come to meet you two inside.

“There’s your girlfriend!” Tony Stark yelled. A smile grew on your face as Steve blushed.

“Is this old man bothering you?” Tony continued, causing you to giggle and shake your head. Everyone greeted you and introduced themselves before you moved into a common room. Drinks were brought in on robots and you could tell it was Tony’s invention, these server bots. You made eye contact with Steve and he rolled his eyes to you.

“Y/N, were you searching for a dinosaur in the museum?” Natasha asked and tipping her head in your direction. Steve opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off.

“Not originally. It seems he found me.”

The team laughed.

“Steve, if you lose her, I’ll take her.” Natasha held her glass up in cheers.

“Would you guys stop, I haven’t asked her out yet!” Steve blurted out.

That caused everyone to fall silent and you turned to him. “Excuse me, yet?”

Steve looked down at his glass and swirled the water. “Yet.”

You waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “Is there a place to talk alone for a moment?”

Steve gestured for you to follow him and as you left, you heard chatter behind you. You both turned a few corners and were finally far enough away from the team that hopefully your conversation would give you privacy.

Steve chewed on his lower lip before speaking. “I’m sorry about them.”

“Don’t be. I was already under the impression we were dating. They weren’t the only ones who had the wrong impression.”

His mouth dropped open in shock. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’m not used to the way dating is today. I thought you went out on a few dates before you made it official.”

“Before? Yet? Steve, when were you planning to ask?”

He shrugged. “I almost chose yesterday, but I didn’t want to make it seem like I chose yesterday because it’s Valentine’s Day week.”

“I wouldn’t have minded if you had asked because of Valentine’s Day.”

He stood up a little straighter and it made him so much taller again. “Really?”

“Really. Steve, would you like to go steady?”

“Aren’t I supposed to ask you that?” He smiled bashfully.

“Well, you haven’t done it, yet. So I’m asking.”

“Yes. I want to go steady with you.”

A male voice (Tony’s, you would later realize) yelled from around the corner, “It’s about time!”

Steve’s face crinkled with frustration and you took his hand to calm him. Slowly, he turned back to you. He took your face in his hand, brushing your cheekbone with his thumb. You closed your eyes and smiled.

Gently, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and your mouth opened slightly, wanting more than just a forehead kiss.

He must have noticed because the next thing you knew, he was kissing your mouth just as tenderly. The hesitation from him didn’t worry you and you kissed him back.

- - -

Masterlist on blog!

Permanent Tag List (please alert me if you change your username, want to be tagged for only one character, or if you want to be untagged): @abbybills22, @breezy1415, @coffeebooksandfandom, @cxptain-americaa, @deceivedeer, @dreamer821, @everything-but-the-not-natural, @elxrini, @fangirling-equestrian, @feelmyroarrrr, @hellomissmabel, @httpmcrvel, @iamwarrenspeace, @kudosia, @m4df4n, @marrvelle-fics, @mindlessnerd89, @ms-cellanies, @mylittlefandomfanfictions, @princessleah129, @space-helen, @susiejustsusie, @tea-with-loki, @thisismysecrethappyplace, @wired-girl @wkndfrvr, @wxnchestervevo (tag list is open!!)

Strikethroughs are blogs I can’t tag.

[psyched2b]

Baking, Not Recreational (James “Bucky” Barnes x Reader)

Here’s my submission for @loki-the-fox River’s Marvel Halloween Writing Challenge. Thank you so much for letting me participate!

A/N: @mermaidxatxheart Thank you for all your help with this, sweet babycakes!!

P.S. Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Platonic!Steve x Reader

Warnings: Swearing probably, a little bit of blood, lots of sass and some bets are made.

“Come on, babe!” you pleaded for one last time. “I’ve been planning this trip for weeks!” You gave your boyfriend the best sad puppy dog eyes you could muster. “This is the perfect time of year to go to the orchard. It’s early enough that all the good apples and pumpkins will still be there. And since I’ll be in DC the week of Halloween, I thought this would be a fun thing to do instead. Be festive and all that fun nonsense.”

“We celebrated last year,” Bucky told you, leaving down to lace up his combat boots.

You crossed your arms and popped a hip. “Eh, no. Not quite. We were in Wakanda, you just came out of cryo and were showing me your goats. There were no pumpkins, no costumes, no apple cider, and no donuts. APPLE DONUTS, Bucky! You can’t have Halloween without apple donuts!”

Bucky finished lacing up the last boot and stood up, a wicked grin on his handsome face. “You loved those goats,” he reminded you with a teasing tone. “And I seem to remember that we did have candy.”

You narrowed your eyes and scoffed. “No. You had candy. Something about not being able to enjoy life’s simple pleasures for the last seventy years?”

He offered you a sheepish smile, knowing that you were correct. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Releasing your defensive stance, you walked up to him and wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled yourself close. “How long will you be gone?” you asked, looking up at him, changing the subject.

Bucky met your gaze with affection in his eyes. “Just a few hours. Sam and I are doing a secret security check to see if we can break into Shield’s headquarters without being caught.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “You mean, you two are going to race to see who can break in first,” you corrected.

He smirked, rubbing his stubble covered cheek against yours affectionately, tickling you. “You know me so well. Plus, we both know Sam won’t make it through the first level of security.”

You pulled back and lightly smacked his chest with the back of your hand and scolded,” You’re so full of it.”

Ignoring you, he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

Pulling away, you waved his off nonchalantly. “Go have fun with your manly man competition,” you told him, moving to step into your own boots.

The doorbell rang and Bucky gave you a confused look.

In return, you gave him a devious grin, walking to the front door while shucking on a light jacket to protect you from the crisp fall air. “I have a date with a manly man.”

Bucky walked to the door with you and pressed his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your middle as you opened the door to greet the man who was picking you up.

You smirked at Bucky’s confused, “Steve?”

You and Steve had a blast at the orchard. It was a bit of a drive, but totally worth it.

By the time you were finished, you carried two 1 pound bag of apples each. Steve had to carry the pumpkins in one at a time because they were at least a solid twenty pounds each. You tried to tell him that you were more than capable of carrying your own pumpkin up the few stairs it took to get into yours and Bucky’s house, but Steve wasn’t having any of it, afraid you’d hurt yourself and have an angry Winter Solider hunting him down.

“What are you going to do with four pounds of apples?” Steve asked, rolling up the sleeves on his sweater and going to the sink, ready to wash his hands as instructed by you.

You grabbed the cutting board from its spot and pulled out a sharp knife to cut the apples with. “Apple pies of course.”

Steve dried his hands on the dishtowel. “Pies? As in plural?” he asked for clarification, eyeballing the massive amounts of apples.

“Mhm,” you hummed in confirmation, grabbing all the ingredients you would need. “I’m going to say at least ten.” You looked back at Steve and let out a laugh at his concerned look. “Don’t worry. I’m only keeping one here for Bucky. I’ll send you back to the compound with three and the rest are getting delivered to the VA.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “I was worried for a second. If you kept all of those pies here, Bucky would binge eat them.”

You rolled your eyes knowing he was right. “Yup, so that’s why we have to get them finished before he gets home.” You handed him a copy of the recipe.

He read over the instructions and looked back at you in awe. “How did you get this?”

You giggled and patted his cheek affectionately. “I may or may not have broken into the Smithsonian to get the Barnes Family Apple Pie Recipe. Not like they need it!”

Steve laughed. “I knew there was a reason why we kept you around.”

Together, the two of you managed to make 12 pies. Ten of which were already loaded into the back of Steve’s car. You decided to keep two and do a test to see if Bucky would be able to restrain himself from eating both in one sitting. You and Steve had a $50 bet on it, Steve saying there’s no way that Bucky wouldn’t eat both pies at once. Of course, Steve underestimated you and your skills at distracting your boyfriend. Poor Steve.

Steve had just finished carving his pumpkin and sat it down next to your on the kitchen island. He moved to stand next to you, wiping his dirty hands with a towel.

“I don’t understand how someone who is CIA can accidentally cut their fingers with a knife. Aren’t you supposed to be better trained than at?” He teased, nodding with his head towards your wound that you had covered with paper towel, trying to stop the bleeding.

You scoffed. “Says the one who added salt instead of sugar to the pie crust? Try me, Spangly Pants.”

“I’m not spangly,” he muttered as you heard the front door open, followed by familiar heavy footsteps.

“Bucky’s home!” you sang, giving Steve an evil grin. “I’m going to tell him it’s your fault I got injured.”

Steve gulped. “Alright, on that note, I’m going to leave. Protect the pies and all.” And with that, he was out the door, passing by Bucky.

Bucky turned and gave his friend a confused look, but didn’t try to stop him, instead, walked over to you and place a quick kiss to your lips.

“Hey, honey. How’s it going?” he asked, pulling away.

“All's good on this end!” you told him in a cheerful tone, casually sliding your cut hand behind your back so he wouldn’t notice right away. “How was the manly man competition with Sam? Who won?”

He sniffed the air, ignoring your question. “Do I smell pie?”

You snickered. “I swear, sometimes you’re a fucking dog.” Your boyfriend gave you a wounded look and you sighed. “There’s pie cooling in the fridge. But you have to wait until after dinner!”

Bucky smiled, eyes crinkling in the corners and pecked your lips again. “You’re the best!” He sniffed again and froze, eyes scanning your body. You knew you had been caught when his steel blue eyes landed on your arm that was still behind your back. With gentleness, he grabbed your arm and brought it forward and pulled the towel away and let out a low hiss when he saw the cut. His eyes then moved to the carved pumpkins on the counter and then back to you. “Did you seriously injure yourself carving a pumpkin?”

You let out a faux outraged gasp and pulled your hand back, holding it away from him. “How dare you assume things! I’ll have you know that this was a baking injury, NOT recreational.”

There was a moment of silence before he let out a loud laugh, pulling you to his chest and squeezing you tight. “You’re so cute when you try to be dramatic,” he cooed at you when he pulled away.

You just swatted at him, scowling. “I’m not cute. I’m downright terrifying.”

Steve owed you $50 and new pillows.

Sam never made it inside the perimeter whereas it took Bucky a total of 22 minutes.

Tags: @bettercallsabs , @thinkwritexpress-official , @geeksareunique

[caveartfair]

Robert Ryman died at age 88 on Friday.

Robert Ryman, courtesy Pace Gallery.

Robert Ryman, an endlessly inventive abstract painter who created Minimalist white compositions in virtually every imaginable combination of brushstroke and material, died on Friday at age 88 at his home in New York City’s Greenwich Village. A cause of his death was not revealed. His longtime gallery, Pace Gallery, confirmed his death in a statement, concluding: “We mourn his loss, but celebrate the never-ending legacy of his art and its impact on how we see the world.”

Ryman, who was born in Nashville on May 30, 1930, set out to become a jazz saxophonist. But after moving to New York following a stint in the Army Reserve Corps, he took a job as a guard at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in 1953 and became enamored with painting, especially the work of Mark Rothko. In an interview with Art21, he recalled:

When I first saw Rothko, I’d never seen a painting that way before. And I didn’t know what he was doing. I’d been looking at pictures all the time, and here was something that had a totally different feeling to it.

Untitled, . Robert Ryman Christie's

Ryman became friends with fellow MoMA guards Dan Flavin and Sol LeWitt, and while on the job met the art critic Lucy R. Lippard, whom he married in 1960 (they divorced in 1966). He was remarried in 1969, to the painter Merrill Wagner; Ryman had three sons—Will and Cordy Ryman with Wagner, and Ethan Ryman with Lippard—all of whom are artists.

Though he considered himself a realist, Ryman rose to fame at a time in the 1960s and ‘70s when Minimalism and later Conceptual Art and Post-Minimalism were emerging as correctives to the dramatic gestures of Abstract Expressionism. He had his first solo show in 1967, and many more quickly followed; in 1972, the Guggenheim Museum staged his first retrospective in the U.S. More recently, the Dia Art Foundation devoted a major exhibition to his work at its Chelsea space in 2015; a selection of Ryman’s paintings is also on long-term view at the foundation’s building in Beacon in upstate New York.

He created white paintings in virtually every conceivable format and material, from oil paint on square canvases and linen, to pastel, casein, gouache, polyvinyl acetate emulsion, acrylic, and more, on supports that included fiberglass, Gator board, aluminum panels, wax paper, wood, Lumasite, coffee-filter paper, and more, mounted on supports ranging from nails and braces to steel bolts, nails, masking tape, foam blocks, and more.

In a 1972 interview with the Smithsonian Institution’s Archives of American Art, Ryman said:

Nothing is there that doesn't need to be there. If I use a frame, a paper frame, or a tape frame, it's because that's part of the painting. It's not because it's some kind of decoration. It's there for a reason, to pull the painting out onto the wall and not to confine. My frames never confine paintings.

Conversion, 2003. Robert Ryman Phillips

Further Reading: What Makes a Monochrome Painting Good?

from Artsy News

[ozhawkauthor]

Happy Birthday, svmmersociety!

January 27 - “No — no. Just keep your clothes on.” with Steve/Bucky/Daisy for @svmmersociety

“You are very hard men to track down.”

“There’s a reason for that.” Steve folded his arms and tried to loom intimidatingly over the small woman who’d somehow leaped in through the open balcony window of their sixth-floor safehouse apartment. Bucky didn’t bother with the looming. He just held a gun in each hand pointed straight at the woman’s head.

“I say we just kill her now,” Bucky said emotionlessly.

“That’s very unfriendly of you, Mr Barnes.” She didn’t look in the least fazed by the threat, as though confident that the guns he held were no threat to her. Steve had the feeling that they weren’t, somehow. The ability to leap six stories in a single bound was a strong hint that she was in some way powered, maybe one of the Inhumans they’d been encountering.

“I’m not much for friends,” Bucky replied.

“Suuuuure.” The girl looked from one to the other of them and snickered. “Riiiiight.”

Steve had to suppress a snort of laughter at her expression, somehow both disbelieving and suggestive at the same time.

“So you’ve gone to all the trouble of tracking us down for what reason?” he asked.

“Well, I’m Daisy Johnson.” She paused, as though expecting them to recognize the name, sighed when neither of them so much as blinked. “This is what I get for expecting two nonagenarians to use the Internet, I suppose. You might also know me as Quake?”

“I know that name,” Steve said, “it was on the same list as ours. The list of powered people who’ve declined to sign the Accords and are now considered ‘dangerous fugitives’.” She really didn’t look like a dangerous fugitive. She looked like a teenage girl going through an emo phase, wearing too much black eyeliner, all black clothes and lots of silver chains around her neck. There was something in her eyes, though, that told him what she looked like was just a disguise. And even the heavy makeup couldn’t disguise her beauty.

“Score, right?” Daisy grinned at him. “I admit it gave me a kick to be on the same list as Captain America and the Winter Soldier, not to mention several other former Avengers.”

“I also saw that name was missing from the latest list,” Steve said dryly, “which tells me that you’re probably working for SHIELD, or some other government agency.”

Daisy made finger guns and pointed at him. “Give the man a medal. Scratch that, i’ve seen your medal collection in the Smithsonian, you really don’t need another one. But yes, you’re completely correct. I’m working for SHIELD… and I still haven’t signed the Accords.”

“That doesn’t add up,” Bucky growled. “I reckon she’s a mole. Prob’ly wearing a wire…”

“No wires,” she turned her head left and right, pulling her hair back from her ears to show them that she wasn’t wearing any earbugs, knowing perfectly well that their enhanced vision would pick it up. “And I’m happy to prove it. Pulling her jacket off, she tossed it to the floor, following it rapidly with the shirt beneath. She’d kicked off her boots and was unbuttoning her jeans by the time Steve got over his shock at her just stripping in front of them.

“No, no, just keep your clothes on, please!” He cast Bucky a fulminating look. “We believe you. Buck’s just… wary. Too many times in the last year we’ve been tracked down in places where we should have been safe.”

“About that,” Daisy said, not bothering to rebutton her jeans or pick up her shirt, “I know how that’s been happening.”

“You do?” Bucky sounded eager, at last, lowering his guns. “We know it’s not my arm…”

“Correct, it’s not your arm.” Daisy pointed at Steve. “It’s him.”

“What?” Steve scowled. “How?”

“Totally Stark’s fault, though it took ages for Cou… er, the Director, to get him to ‘fess up. He implanted you with a tracker ages ago. Wanted to make sure he could keep track of you even if you took up on one of your harebrained schemes. That’s how they found you at the airport in Cologne, by the way.”

“Fucking Stark,” Bucky muttered. Steve’s expression had grown grim.

“Stark said that he wasn’t continuing the hunt for us.”

“And he hasn’t, nor has he provided the details of the tracker to anyone… except me. But the tracker is nonetheless still in you, and it still intermittently reconnects itself to various geopositioning satellites to ‘check in’. Secretary Ross has access to the ‘take’ from some of those satellites, and some clever dick at the NSA flagged the signal as something to check out. The second time they investigated the source, you were spotted on a surveillance camera.”

“God damn it,” Steve said fervently.

“So now, every time it connects to one of Ross’s satellites, there’s a tac team sent out to try and bring you in.”

“Where is it? I want it out,” Steve said, turning and striding over to the kitchen, jerking open drawers until he found a steak knife.

“Don’t be ridiculous, this is much sharper,” Bucky holstered a gun and drew a combat knife from a sheath on his thigh. “So tell us where to cut, doll.”

“Or you could stop being so dramatic and I could deactivate it?” Daisy pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and waved it at them. “Stark told me how.”

“Fine, you deactivate it, and then Buck will remove it.”

Daisy wrinkled her nose at them, seeing that they wouldn’t be dissuaded. “Fine. Here,” she called up the scan Stark had given her on the phone. “It’s in your butt.”

“Of course it is,” Steve growled.

“So drop ‘em, Cap,” she gave him a wicked grin. “I promise I won’t look.”

“I like her,” Bucky murmured quietly into Steve’s ear as he carefully incised a small cut into Steve’s ass cheek to remove the tracker.

“Me too,” Steve muttered. “She’s totally staring at my ass, isn’t she?”

“Yup.” Bucky glanced over at Daisy, who was watching with intense fascination even while wrinkling her nose at the blood. “Even though she said she wouldn’t look.”

“I lied, so sue me.” Daisy grinned at him. Bucky laughed outright even as the tracker popped out into his hand. He crushed it between his metal fingertips and tossed the bloody remnant into the garbage. By the time he turned around, the small cut in Steve’s ass was already healing.

“I think we’ll keep her around, what do you reckon, Stevie?”

“Well, the ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound could come in handy,” Steve deadpanned back, pulling his shorts back up.

“You wait until you see what else I can do,” Daisy smirked at both of them. There was a distinct edge of flirtation entering into their interaction.

“Think you’re gonna get a chance to demonstrate,” Bucky cocked his head slightly, “because I can hear someone trying to be stealthy coming up the stairs. Can I take it that Steve’s tracker might have connected to those satellites one more time before we took it out?”

Daisy nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. I was delayed getting here. It would have connected again about half an hour ago.”

“Oh well.” Bucky drew his guns with a grin.

“Any chance I could get dressed first?” Steve said plaintively.

“We’ll hold them off while you cover up, Cap, don’t worry,” Daisy had fortunately put her own clothes and boots back on while Bucky conducted his field surgery on Steve’s butt. She grinned at Bucky, reached for the door handle. “Ready?”

“Time to kick ass!” Bucky leaped forward with a feral grin as Daisy opened the door. She followed him out with a delighted laugh.

“Oh god help me now there are two of them,” Steve groaned, desperately tugging his clothes back on. “Wait for meeee!” he yelled after them.

[airoasis]

How great leaders inspire action | Simon Sinek

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/how-great-leaders-inspire-action-simon-sinek-19/

How great leaders inspire action | Simon Sinek

How do you give an explanation for when things don’t go as we anticipate? Or better, how do you explain when others are competent to reap things that appear to defy the entire assumptions? For illustration: Why is Apple so revolutionary? Year after year, after year, they’re extra revolutionary than all their competitors. And yet, they are just a laptop company. They’re identical to every person else. They have the identical entry to the equal ability, the equal agencies, the same consultants, the same media. Then why is it that they look to have anything distinctive? Why is it that Martin Luther King led the Civil Rights movement? He wasn’t the one man who suffered in pre-civil rights the united states, and he certainly wasn’t the only first-rate orator of the day.Why him? And why is it that the Wright brothers were able to figure out managed, powered man flight when there have been definitely different groups who were higher certified, higher funded — and they didn’t obtain powered man flight, and the Wright brothers beat them to it. There is anything else at play here. About three and a half of years ago, I made a discovery. And this discovery profoundly transformed my view on how I idea the sector worked, and it even profoundly changed the way in which I function in it. As it seems, there may be a pattern. Because it turns out, the entire excellent inspiring leaders and firms on the planet, whether it’s Apple or Martin Luther King or the Wright brothers, they all believe, act and keep up a correspondence the targeted identical approach. And it can be the whole opposite to every body else. All I did used to be codify it, and it’s most likely the sector’s simplest thought. I call it the golden circle. Why? How? What? This little notion explains why some companies and some leaders are able to inspire the place others are not.Let me define the phrases relatively rapidly. Every single person, every single group on the earth knows what they do, one hundred percentage. Some know how they do it, whether you name it your differentiated worth proposition or your proprietary procedure or your USP. However very, only a few people or organizations understand why they do what they do. And by means of "why" i do not imply "to make a revenue." that’s a outcome. It can be consistently a result. With the aid of "why," I imply: What’s your purpose? What’s your cause? What’s your perception? Why does your institution exist? Why do you get out of bed within the morning? And why must any one care? For that reason, the best way we consider, we act, the way in which we keep up a correspondence is from the outside in, it is apparent.We go from the clearest thing to the fuzziest thing. However the prompted leaders and the encouraged firms — despite their size, regardless of their industry — all consider, act and keep up a correspondence from the within out. Let me offer you an illustration. I use Apple because they’re easy to comprehend and each person gets it. If Apple were like every person else, a advertising and marketing message from them might sound like this: "We make first-rate computers. They’re superbly designed, simple to make use of and consumer pleasant.Wish to buy one?" "Meh." that’s how most of us communicate. That’s how most advertising and earnings are completed, that is how we communicate interpersonally. We say what we do, we are saying how we’re exceptional or better and we count on some type of a conduct, a purchase order, a vote, something like that. Here is our new law firm: now we have the first-class legal professionals with the most important consumers, we invariably perform for our customers. This is our new auto: It will get nice fuel mileage, it has leather seats. Buy our vehicle. Nevertheless it’s uninspiring. Here’s how Apple sincerely communicates. "the whole lot we do, we consider in challenging the repute quo. We consider in considering differently. The best way we mission the popularity quo is by making our products beautifully designed, simple to make use of and consumer pleasant.We just occur to make first-class desktops. Need to buy one?" entirely special, right? You’re in a position to purchase a pc from me. I just reversed the order of the know-how. What it proves to us is that persons do not buy what you do; folks buy why you do it. This explains why every single character on this room is perfectly comfortable buying a pc from Apple. But we’re additionally perfectly comfy buying an MP3 participant from Apple, or a mobilephone from Apple, or a DVR from Apple. As I mentioned before, Apple’s just a computer enterprise. Nothing distinguishes them structurally from any of their competitors. Their competitors are equally qualified to make all of those products. Correctly, they tried. A few years in the past, Gateway came out with flat-reveal TVs. They’re eminently certified to make flat-display TVs. They have been making flat-reveal screens for years. No person bought one. Dell got here out with MP3 gamers and PDAs, and they make fine satisfactory merchandise, and they can make perfectly good-designed merchandise — and no person purchased one. Actually, speakme about it now, we cannot even suppose purchasing an MP3 player from Dell.Why would you purchase one from a laptop enterprise? However we do it day-to-day. Men and women do not buy what you do; they purchase why you do it. The goal is to not do business with every person who desires what you could have. The goal is to do industry with individuals who feel what you consider. Here is the satisfactory section: None of what i am telling you is my opinion. It’s all grounded within the tenets of biology. Not psychology, biology. In case you look at a pass-section of the human mind, from the highest down, the human brain is surely damaged into three predominant accessories that correlate flawlessly with the golden circle. Our most recent mind, our Homo sapien brain, our neocortex, corresponds with the "what" level. The neocortex is responsible for all of our rational and analytical idea and language. The middle two sections make up our limbic brains, and our limbic brains are dependable for all of our feelings, like believe and loyalty. It is also responsible for all human habits, all decision-making, and it has no potential for language.In other phrases, once we be in contact from the outside in, sure, people can fully grasp sizeable quantities of tricky information like facets and advantages and details and figures. It just does not force conduct. After we can keep up a correspondence from the within out, we’re talking directly to the a part of the brain that controls behavior, and then we permit individuals to rationalize it with the tangible matters we say and do. That is where gut decisions come from. Normally you can supply someone all the details and figures, and they say, "i know what all of the facts and small print say, nevertheless it simply doesn’t feel correct." Why would we use that verb, it doesn’t "believe" correct? When you consider that the part of the mind that controls resolution-making doesn’t manipulate language. The satisfactory we are able to muster up is, "I have no idea. It just doesn’t believe correct." Or sometimes you say you are main along with your heart or soul. I hate to interrupt it to you, those don’t seem to be different body components controlling your conduct. It’s all happening right here on your limbic mind, the part of the brain that controls resolution-making and now not language.But if you don’t know why you do what you do, and people respond to why you do what you do, then how will you ever get men and women to vote for you, or purchase whatever from you, or, extra importantly, be loyal and want to be a part of what it is that you just do. The intention is not just to promote to persons who want what you could have; the purpose is to promote to individuals who suppose what you consider. The intention isn’t just to hire persons who desire a job; it’s to hire humans who suppose what you suppose. I perpetually say that, , in the event you rent persons just when you consider that they are able to do a job, they may work in your money, but when they suppose what you believe, they’ll give you the results you want with blood and sweat and tears.Nowhere else is there a better illustration than with the Wright brothers. Most individuals have no idea about Samuel Pierpont Langley. And again in the early 20th century, the pursuit of powered man flight used to be just like the dot com of the day. Everybody was trying it. And Samuel Pierpont Langley had, what we expect, to be the recipe for fulfillment. Even now, you ask men and women, "Why did your product or why did your company fail?" and folks constantly give you the equal permutation of the identical three matters: underneath-capitalized, the wrong persons, bad market stipulations. It is always the identical three things, so let’s explore that. Samuel Pierpont Langley used to be given 50,000 greenbacks by way of the war department to determine this flying laptop. Money used to be no drawback.He held a seat at Harvard and worked at the Smithsonian and used to be totally well-related; he knew all of the giant minds of the day. He hired the exceptional minds money would find and the market conditions were splendid. The new York times adopted him round in all places, and everyone was once rooting for Langley. Then how come now we have by no means heard of Samuel Pierpont Langley? A few hundred miles away in Dayton, Ohio, Orville and Wilbur Wright, that they had none of what we consider to be the recipe for success. They’d no money; they paid for their dream with the proceeds from their bicycle retailer. Not a single individual on the Wright brothers’ group had a school education, no longer even Orville or Wilbur. And the brand new York instances followed them round nowhere.The difference was, Orville and Wilbur have been pushed with the aid of a motive, by means of a purpose, via a belief. They believed that if they might determine this flying desktop, it should trade the path of the arena. Samuel Pierpont Langley was once special. He wanted to be rich, and he wanted to be noted. He was in pursuit of the outcome. He was in pursuit of the riches. And lo and behold, appear what happened. The humans who believed in the Wright brothers’ dream labored with them with blood and sweat and tears. The others just worked for the paycheck. They tell reports of how each time the Wright brothers went out, they’d have to take 5 sets of ingredients, when you consider that that’s how frequently they might crash earlier than supper. And, finally, on December seventeenth, 1903, the Wright brothers took flight, and nobody was once there to even experience it. We found out about it a couple of days later. And extra proof that Langley was once influenced by way of the improper thing: the day the Wright brothers took flight, he quit.He might have said, "that is an potent discovery, guys, and i will make stronger upon your technology," but he did not. He wasn’t first, he failed to get wealthy, he failed to get noted, so he quit. Humans don’t buy what you do; they purchase why you do it. For those who talk about what you believe, you’ll attract individuals who consider what you believe. But why is it important to attract those who believe what you feel? Whatever referred to as the law of diffusion of innovation, if you do not know the legislation, you already know the terminology. The primary 2.5% of our population are our innovators. The following thirteen.5% of our populace are our early adopters. The following 34% are your early majority, your late majority and your laggards.The one reason these men and women buy contact-tone telephones is due to the fact you can not buy rotary phones anymore. (Laughter) we all take a seat at various areas at quite a lot of instances on this scale, however what the law of diffusion of innovation tells us is that if you wish to have mass-market success or mass-market acceptance of an notion, you can’t have it until you obtain this tipping point between 15 and 18 percent market penetration, and then the procedure tips. I really like asking companies, "What’s your conversion on new trade?" They love to tell you, "it can be about 10 percent," proudly. Good, that you could commute over 10% of the customers. We all have about 10% who simply "get it." that is how we describe them, correct? That’s like that intestine feeling, "Oh, they only get it." The problem is: How do you find those that get it before doing industry versus those who do not get it? So it’s this here, this little hole that you must shut, as Jeffrey Moore calls it, "Crossing the Chasm" — considering, you see, the early majority will not are attempting something until someone else has tried it first.And these guys, the innovators and the early adopters, they may be secure making these intestine choices. They’re extra at ease making these intuitive choices that are driven by using what they suppose in regards to the world and now not simply what product is on hand. These are the people who stood in line for six hours to buy an iPhone after they first got here out, when you would have purchased one off the shelf the following week. These are the individuals who spent forty,000 dollars on flat-monitor TVs once they first got here out, despite the fact that the technology was once substandard. And, incidentally, they didn’t do it on account that the technology used to be so pleasant; they did it for themselves. It’s considering the fact that they desired to be first. Individuals don’t buy what you do; they purchase why you do it and what you do effortlessly proves what you believe. Correctly, persons will do the matters that show what they believe. The rationale that man or woman purchased the iPhone in the first six hours, stood in line for six hours, was for the reason that of what they believed concerning the world, and the way they wanted every person to look them: they were first.Humans don’t buy what you do; they purchase why you do it. So let me provide you with a noted instance, a noted failure and a famous success of the law of diffusion of innovation. First, the noted failure. It can be a commercial illustration. As we mentioned before, the recipe for fulfillment is cash and the proper folks and the correct market stipulations. You should have success then. Look at TiVo. From the time TiVo got here out about eight or 9 years ago to this present day, they’re the only easiest-great product available on the market, hands down, there is not any dispute.They have been extremely good-funded. Market conditions have been top notch. I imply, we use TiVo as verb. I TiVo stuff on my piece-of-junk Time Warner DVR always. (Laughter) however TiVo’s a industrial failure. They’ve not ever made cash. And when they went IPO, their inventory was at about 30 or forty greenbacks and then plummeted, and it is not ever traded above 10. In fact, i do not believe it can be even traded above six, besides for a few little spikes. Considering the fact that you see, when TiVo launched their product, they instructed us all what they had. They mentioned, "now we have a product that pauses reside television, skips commercials, rewinds reside tv and memorizes your viewing habits without you even asking." And the cynical majority mentioned, "we don’t believe you. We don’t need it. We don’t find it irresistible. You are scaring us." What if they had stated, "If you’re the sort of character who likes to have total control over each side of your life, boy, do now we have a product for you. It pauses reside tv, skips commercials, memorizes your viewing habits, and so forth., and so on." folks do not buy what you do; they buy why you do it, and what you do simply serves as the proof of what you believe.Now let me give you a victorious illustration of the legislation of diffusion of innovation. In the summertime of 1963, 250,000 folks showed up on the mall in Washington to listen to Dr. King speak. They sent out no invitations, and there used to be no internet site to check the date. How do you do that? Good, Dr. King wasn’t the only man in the us who used to be a high-quality orator. He wasn’t the only man in america who suffered in a pre-civil rights america. In fact, a few of his recommendations had been unhealthy. However he had a gift. He failed to go around telling persons what wanted to change in america. He went around and told humans what he believed. "I believe, I think, I believe," he informed men and women. And people who believed what he believed took his intent, and so they made it their own, and so they instructed people.And some of those folks created buildings to get the phrase out to even more individuals. And lo and behold, 250,000 men and women confirmed up on the correct day on the right time to listen to him speak. How many of them showed up for him? Zero. They showed up for themselves. It’s what they believed about the united states that obtained them to journey in a bus for eight hours to stand within the solar in Washington in the core of August.It is what they believed, and it wasn’t about black versus white: 25% of the viewers was white. Dr. King believed that there are two forms of legal guidelines on this world: those which can be made through a larger authority and those which are made via men. And no longer except all the legal guidelines which can be made by guys are constant with the laws made through the bigger authority will we reside in a just world. It just so occurred that the Civil Rights movement was the superb thing to aid him carry his rationale to life. We followed, no longer for him, however for ourselves. Incidentally, he gave the "i’ve a dream" speech, no longer the "i have a plan" speech. (Laughter) hearken to politicians now, with their comprehensive 12-factor plans. They are now not inspiring any one. In view that there are leaders and there are people who lead. Leaders keep a function of energy or authority, however folks who lead inspire us. Whether they’re contributors or organizations, we follow people who lead, not for the reason that we have got to, however on account that we need to.We follow individuals who lead, now not for them, but for ourselves. And it’s people who with "why" that have the capacity to encourage those around them or in finding others who inspire them. Thank you very so much. (Applause) .

[batterymonster2021]

How great leaders inspire action | Simon Sinek

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/how-great-leaders-inspire-action-simon-sinek-19/

How great leaders inspire action | Simon Sinek

How do you give an explanation for when things don’t go as we anticipate? Or better, how do you explain when others are competent to reap things that appear to defy the entire assumptions? For illustration: Why is Apple so revolutionary? Year after year, after year, they’re extra revolutionary than all their competitors. And yet, they are just a laptop company. They’re identical to every person else. They have the identical entry to the equal ability, the equal agencies, the same consultants, the same media. Then why is it that they look to have anything distinctive? Why is it that Martin Luther King led the Civil Rights movement? He wasn’t the one man who suffered in pre-civil rights the united states, and he certainly wasn’t the only first-rate orator of the day.Why him? And why is it that the Wright brothers were able to figure out managed, powered man flight when there have been definitely different groups who were higher certified, higher funded — and they didn’t obtain powered man flight, and the Wright brothers beat them to it. There is anything else at play here. About three and a half of years ago, I made a discovery. And this discovery profoundly transformed my view on how I idea the sector worked, and it even profoundly changed the way in which I function in it. As it seems, there may be a pattern. Because it turns out, the entire excellent inspiring leaders and firms on the planet, whether it’s Apple or Martin Luther King or the Wright brothers, they all believe, act and keep up a correspondence the targeted identical approach. And it can be the whole opposite to every body else. All I did used to be codify it, and it’s most likely the sector’s simplest thought. I call it the golden circle. Why? How? What? This little notion explains why some companies and some leaders are able to inspire the place others are not.Let me define the phrases relatively rapidly. Every single person, every single group on the earth knows what they do, one hundred percentage. Some know how they do it, whether you name it your differentiated worth proposition or your proprietary procedure or your USP. However very, only a few people or organizations understand why they do what they do. And by means of "why" i do not imply "to make a revenue." that’s a outcome. It can be consistently a result. With the aid of "why," I imply: What’s your purpose? What’s your cause? What’s your perception? Why does your institution exist? Why do you get out of bed within the morning? And why must any one care? For that reason, the best way we consider, we act, the way in which we keep up a correspondence is from the outside in, it is apparent.We go from the clearest thing to the fuzziest thing. However the prompted leaders and the encouraged firms — despite their size, regardless of their industry — all consider, act and keep up a correspondence from the within out. Let me offer you an illustration. I use Apple because they’re easy to comprehend and each person gets it. If Apple were like every person else, a advertising and marketing message from them might sound like this: "We make first-rate computers. They’re superbly designed, simple to make use of and consumer pleasant.Wish to buy one?" "Meh." that’s how most of us communicate. That’s how most advertising and earnings are completed, that is how we communicate interpersonally. We say what we do, we are saying how we’re exceptional or better and we count on some type of a conduct, a purchase order, a vote, something like that. Here is our new law firm: now we have the first-class legal professionals with the most important consumers, we invariably perform for our customers. This is our new auto: It will get nice fuel mileage, it has leather seats. Buy our vehicle. Nevertheless it’s uninspiring. Here’s how Apple sincerely communicates. "the whole lot we do, we consider in challenging the repute quo. We consider in considering differently. The best way we mission the popularity quo is by making our products beautifully designed, simple to make use of and consumer pleasant.We just occur to make first-class desktops. Need to buy one?" entirely special, right? You’re in a position to purchase a pc from me. I just reversed the order of the know-how. What it proves to us is that persons do not buy what you do; folks buy why you do it. This explains why every single character on this room is perfectly comfortable buying a pc from Apple. But we’re additionally perfectly comfy buying an MP3 participant from Apple, or a mobilephone from Apple, or a DVR from Apple. As I mentioned before, Apple’s just a computer enterprise. Nothing distinguishes them structurally from any of their competitors. Their competitors are equally qualified to make all of those products. Correctly, they tried. A few years in the past, Gateway came out with flat-reveal TVs. They’re eminently certified to make flat-display TVs. They have been making flat-reveal screens for years. No person bought one. Dell got here out with MP3 gamers and PDAs, and they make fine satisfactory merchandise, and they can make perfectly good-designed merchandise — and no person purchased one. Actually, speakme about it now, we cannot even suppose purchasing an MP3 player from Dell.Why would you purchase one from a laptop enterprise? However we do it day-to-day. Men and women do not buy what you do; they purchase why you do it. The goal is to not do business with every person who desires what you could have. The goal is to do industry with individuals who feel what you consider. Here is the satisfactory section: None of what i am telling you is my opinion. It’s all grounded within the tenets of biology. Not psychology, biology. In case you look at a pass-section of the human mind, from the highest down, the human brain is surely damaged into three predominant accessories that correlate flawlessly with the golden circle. Our most recent mind, our Homo sapien brain, our neocortex, corresponds with the "what" level. The neocortex is responsible for all of our rational and analytical idea and language. The middle two sections make up our limbic brains, and our limbic brains are dependable for all of our feelings, like believe and loyalty. It is also responsible for all human habits, all decision-making, and it has no potential for language.In other phrases, once we be in contact from the outside in, sure, people can fully grasp sizeable quantities of tricky information like facets and advantages and details and figures. It just does not force conduct. After we can keep up a correspondence from the within out, we’re talking directly to the a part of the brain that controls behavior, and then we permit individuals to rationalize it with the tangible matters we say and do. That is where gut decisions come from. Normally you can supply someone all the details and figures, and they say, "i know what all of the facts and small print say, nevertheless it simply doesn’t feel correct." Why would we use that verb, it doesn’t "believe" correct? When you consider that the part of the mind that controls resolution-making doesn’t manipulate language. The satisfactory we are able to muster up is, "I have no idea. It just doesn’t believe correct." Or sometimes you say you are main along with your heart or soul. I hate to interrupt it to you, those don’t seem to be different body components controlling your conduct. It’s all happening right here on your limbic mind, the part of the brain that controls resolution-making and now not language.But if you don’t know why you do what you do, and people respond to why you do what you do, then how will you ever get men and women to vote for you, or purchase whatever from you, or, extra importantly, be loyal and want to be a part of what it is that you just do. The intention is not just to promote to persons who want what you could have; the purpose is to promote to individuals who suppose what you consider. The intention isn’t just to hire persons who desire a job; it’s to hire humans who suppose what you suppose. I perpetually say that, , in the event you rent persons just when you consider that they are able to do a job, they may work in your money, but when they suppose what you believe, they’ll give you the results you want with blood and sweat and tears.Nowhere else is there a better illustration than with the Wright brothers. Most individuals have no idea about Samuel Pierpont Langley. And again in the early 20th century, the pursuit of powered man flight used to be just like the dot com of the day. Everybody was trying it. And Samuel Pierpont Langley had, what we expect, to be the recipe for fulfillment. Even now, you ask men and women, "Why did your product or why did your company fail?" and folks constantly give you the equal permutation of the identical three matters: underneath-capitalized, the wrong persons, bad market stipulations. It is always the identical three things, so let’s explore that. Samuel Pierpont Langley used to be given 50,000 greenbacks by way of the war department to determine this flying laptop. Money used to be no drawback.He held a seat at Harvard and worked at the Smithsonian and used to be totally well-related; he knew all of the giant minds of the day. He hired the exceptional minds money would find and the market conditions were splendid. The new York times adopted him round in all places, and everyone was once rooting for Langley. Then how come now we have by no means heard of Samuel Pierpont Langley? A few hundred miles away in Dayton, Ohio, Orville and Wilbur Wright, that they had none of what we consider to be the recipe for success. They’d no money; they paid for their dream with the proceeds from their bicycle retailer. Not a single individual on the Wright brothers’ group had a school education, no longer even Orville or Wilbur. And the brand new York instances followed them round nowhere.The difference was, Orville and Wilbur have been pushed with the aid of a motive, by means of a purpose, via a belief. They believed that if they might determine this flying desktop, it should trade the path of the arena. Samuel Pierpont Langley was once special. He wanted to be rich, and he wanted to be noted. He was in pursuit of the outcome. He was in pursuit of the riches. And lo and behold, appear what happened. The humans who believed in the Wright brothers’ dream labored with them with blood and sweat and tears. The others just worked for the paycheck. They tell reports of how each time the Wright brothers went out, they’d have to take 5 sets of ingredients, when you consider that that’s how frequently they might crash earlier than supper. And, finally, on December seventeenth, 1903, the Wright brothers took flight, and nobody was once there to even experience it. We found out about it a couple of days later. And extra proof that Langley was once influenced by way of the improper thing: the day the Wright brothers took flight, he quit.He might have said, "that is an potent discovery, guys, and i will make stronger upon your technology," but he did not. He wasn’t first, he failed to get wealthy, he failed to get noted, so he quit. Humans don’t buy what you do; they purchase why you do it. For those who talk about what you believe, you’ll attract individuals who consider what you believe. But why is it important to attract those who believe what you feel? Whatever referred to as the law of diffusion of innovation, if you do not know the legislation, you already know the terminology. The primary 2.5% of our population are our innovators. The following thirteen.5% of our populace are our early adopters. The following 34% are your early majority, your late majority and your laggards.The one reason these men and women buy contact-tone telephones is due to the fact you can not buy rotary phones anymore. (Laughter) we all take a seat at various areas at quite a lot of instances on this scale, however what the law of diffusion of innovation tells us is that if you wish to have mass-market success or mass-market acceptance of an notion, you can’t have it until you obtain this tipping point between 15 and 18 percent market penetration, and then the procedure tips. I really like asking companies, "What’s your conversion on new trade?" They love to tell you, "it can be about 10 percent," proudly. Good, that you could commute over 10% of the customers. We all have about 10% who simply "get it." that is how we describe them, correct? That’s like that intestine feeling, "Oh, they only get it." The problem is: How do you find those that get it before doing industry versus those who do not get it? So it’s this here, this little hole that you must shut, as Jeffrey Moore calls it, "Crossing the Chasm" — considering, you see, the early majority will not are attempting something until someone else has tried it first.And these guys, the innovators and the early adopters, they may be secure making these intestine choices. They’re extra at ease making these intuitive choices that are driven by using what they suppose in regards to the world and now not simply what product is on hand. These are the people who stood in line for six hours to buy an iPhone after they first got here out, when you would have purchased one off the shelf the following week. These are the individuals who spent forty,000 dollars on flat-monitor TVs once they first got here out, despite the fact that the technology was once substandard. And, incidentally, they didn’t do it on account that the technology used to be so pleasant; they did it for themselves. It’s considering the fact that they desired to be first. Individuals don’t buy what you do; they purchase why you do it and what you do effortlessly proves what you believe. Correctly, persons will do the matters that show what they believe. The rationale that man or woman purchased the iPhone in the first six hours, stood in line for six hours, was for the reason that of what they believed concerning the world, and the way they wanted every person to look them: they were first.Humans don’t buy what you do; they purchase why you do it. So let me provide you with a noted instance, a noted failure and a famous success of the law of diffusion of innovation. First, the noted failure. It can be a commercial illustration. As we mentioned before, the recipe for fulfillment is cash and the proper folks and the correct market stipulations. You should have success then. Look at TiVo. From the time TiVo got here out about eight or 9 years ago to this present day, they’re the only easiest-great product available on the market, hands down, there is not any dispute.They have been extremely good-funded. Market conditions have been top notch. I imply, we use TiVo as verb. I TiVo stuff on my piece-of-junk Time Warner DVR always. (Laughter) however TiVo’s a industrial failure. They’ve not ever made cash. And when they went IPO, their inventory was at about 30 or forty greenbacks and then plummeted, and it is not ever traded above 10. In fact, i do not believe it can be even traded above six, besides for a few little spikes. Considering the fact that you see, when TiVo launched their product, they instructed us all what they had. They mentioned, "now we have a product that pauses reside television, skips commercials, rewinds reside tv and memorizes your viewing habits without you even asking." And the cynical majority mentioned, "we don’t believe you. We don’t need it. We don’t find it irresistible. You are scaring us." What if they had stated, "If you’re the sort of character who likes to have total control over each side of your life, boy, do now we have a product for you. It pauses reside tv, skips commercials, memorizes your viewing habits, and so forth., and so on." folks do not buy what you do; they buy why you do it, and what you do simply serves as the proof of what you believe.Now let me give you a victorious illustration of the legislation of diffusion of innovation. In the summertime of 1963, 250,000 folks showed up on the mall in Washington to listen to Dr. King speak. They sent out no invitations, and there used to be no internet site to check the date. How do you do that? Good, Dr. King wasn’t the only man in the us who used to be a high-quality orator. He wasn’t the only man in america who suffered in a pre-civil rights america. In fact, a few of his recommendations had been unhealthy. However he had a gift. He failed to go around telling persons what wanted to change in america. He went around and told humans what he believed. "I believe, I think, I believe," he informed men and women. And people who believed what he believed took his intent, and so they made it their own, and so they instructed people.And some of those folks created buildings to get the phrase out to even more individuals. And lo and behold, 250,000 men and women confirmed up on the correct day on the right time to listen to him speak. How many of them showed up for him? Zero. They showed up for themselves. It’s what they believed about the united states that obtained them to journey in a bus for eight hours to stand within the solar in Washington in the core of August.It is what they believed, and it wasn’t about black versus white: 25% of the viewers was white. Dr. King believed that there are two forms of legal guidelines on this world: those which can be made through a larger authority and those which are made via men. And no longer except all the legal guidelines which can be made by guys are constant with the laws made through the bigger authority will we reside in a just world. It just so occurred that the Civil Rights movement was the superb thing to aid him carry his rationale to life. We followed, no longer for him, however for ourselves. Incidentally, he gave the "i’ve a dream" speech, no longer the "i have a plan" speech. (Laughter) hearken to politicians now, with their comprehensive 12-factor plans. They are now not inspiring any one. In view that there are leaders and there are people who lead. Leaders keep a function of energy or authority, however folks who lead inspire us. Whether they’re contributors or organizations, we follow people who lead, not for the reason that we have got to, however on account that we need to.We follow individuals who lead, now not for them, but for ourselves. And it’s people who with "why" that have the capacity to encourage those around them or in finding others who inspire them. Thank you very so much. (Applause) .

[dorcasrempel]

X-ray data may be first evidence of a star devouring a planet

For nearly a century, astronomers have puzzled over the curious variability of young stars residing in the Taurus-Auriga constellation some 450 light years from Earth. One star in particular has drawn astronomers’ attention. Every few decades, the star’s light has faded briefly before brightening again.

In recent years, astronomers have observed the star dimming more frequently, and for longer periods, raising the question: What is repeatedly obscuring the star? The answer, astronomers believe, could shed light on some of the chaotic processes that take place early in a star’s development.

Now physicists from MIT and elsewhere have observed the star, named RW Aur A, using NASA’s Chandra X-Ray Observatory. They’ve found evidence for what may have caused its most recent dimming event: a collision of two infant planetary bodies, which produced in its aftermath a dense cloud of gas and dust. As this planetary debris fell into the star, it generated a thick veil, temporarily obscuring the star’s light.

“Computer simulations have long predicted that planets can fall into a young star, but we have never before observed that,” says Hans Moritz Guenther, a research scientist in MIT’s Kavli Institute for Astrophysics and Space Research, who led the study. “If our interpretation of the data is correct, this would be the first time that we directly observe a young star devouring a planet or planets.”

The star’s previous dimming events may have been caused by similar smash-ups, of either two planetary bodies or large remnants of past collisions that met head-on and broke apart again.

“It’s speculation, but if you have one collision of two pieces, it’s likely that afterward they may be on some rogue orbits, which increases the probability that they will hit something else again,” Guenther says.

Guenther is the lead author of a paper detailing the group’s results, which appears today in the Astronomical Journal. His co-authors from MIT include David Huenemoerder and David Principe, along with researchers from the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics and collaborators in Germany and Belgium.

A star cover-up

Scientists who study the early development of stars often look to the Taurus-Auriga Dark Clouds, a gathering of molecular clouds in the constellations of Taurus and Auriga, which host stellar nurseries containing thousands of infant stars. Young stars form from the gravitational collapse of gas and dust within these clouds. Very young stars, unlike our comparatively mature sun, are still surrounded by a rotating disk of debris, including gas, dust, and clumps of material ranging in size from small dust grains to pebbles, and possibly to fledgling planets.

“If you look at our solar system, we have planets and not a massive disk around the sun,” Guenther says. “These disks last for maybe 5 million to 10 million years, and in Taurus, there are many stars that have already lost their disk, but a few still have them. If you want to know what happens in the end stages of this disk dispersal, Taurus is one of the places to look.”

Guenther and his colleagues focus on stars that are young enough to still host disks. He was particularly interested in RW Aur A, which is at the older end of the age range for young stars, as it is estimated to be several million years old. RW Aur A is part of a binary system, meaning that it circles another young star, RW Aur B. Both these stars are about the same mass as the sun.

Since 1937, astronomers have recorded noticeable dips in the brightness of RW Aur A every few decades. Each dimming event appeared to last for about a month. In 2011, the star dimmed again, this time for about half a year. The star eventually brightened, only to fade again in mid-2014. In November 2016, the star returned to its full luminosity.

Astronomers have proposed that this dimming is caused by a passing stream of gas at the outer edge of the star’s disk. Still others have theorized that the dimming is due to processes occurring closer to the star’s center.

“We wanted to study the material that covers the star up, which is presumably related to the disk in some way,” Guenther says. “It’s a rare opportunity.”

An iron-clad signature

In January 2017, RW Aur A dimmed again, and the team used NASA’s Chandra X-Ray Observatory to record X-ray emission from the star.

“The X-rays come from the star, and the spectrum of the X-rays changes as the rays move through the gas in the disk,” Guenther says. “We’re looking for certain signatures in the X-rays that the gas leaves in the X-ray spectrum.”

In total, Chandra recorded 50 kiloseconds, or almost 14 hours of X-ray data from the star. After analyzing these data, the researchers came away with several surprising revelations: the star’s disk hosts a large amount of material; the star is much hotter than expected; and the disk contains much more iron than expected — not as much iron as is found in the Earth, but more than, say, a typical moon in our solar system. (Our own moon, however, has far more iron than the scientists estimated in the star’s disk.)

This last point was the most intriguing for the team. Typically, an X-ray spectrum of a star can show various elements, such as oxygen, iron, silicon, and magnesium, and the amount of each element present depends on the temperature within a star’s disk.

“Here, we see a lot more iron, at least a factor of 10 times more than before, which is very unusual, because typically stars that are active and hot have less iron than others, whereas this one has more,” Guenther says. “Where does all this iron come from?”

The researchers speculate that this excess iron may have come from one of two possible sources. The first is a phenomenon known as a dust pressure trap, in which small grains or particles such as iron can become trapped in “dead zones” of a disk. If the disk’s structure changes suddenly, such as when the star’s partner star passes close by, the resulting tidal forces can release the trapped particles, creating an excess of iron that can fall into the star.

The second theory is for Guenther the more compelling one. In this scenario, excess iron is created when two planetesimals, or infant planetary bodies, collide, releasing a thick cloud of particles. If one or both planets are made partly of iron, their smash-up could release a large amount of iron into the star’s disk and temporarily obscure its light as the material falls into the star.

“There are many processes that happen in young stars, but these two scenarios could possibly make something that looks like what we observed,” Guenther says.

He hopes to make more observations of the star in the future, to see whether the amount of iron surrounding the star has changed — a measure that could help researchers determine the size of the iron’s source. For instance, if the same amount of iron appears in, say, a year, that may signal that the iron comes from a relatively massive source, such as a large planetary collision, versus if there is very little iron left in the disk.

“Much effort currently goes into learning about exoplanets and how they form, so it is obviously very important to see how young planets could be destroyed in interactions with their host stars and other young planets, and what factors determine if they survive,” Guenther says.

X-ray data may be first evidence of a star devouring a planet syndicated from https://osmowaterfilters.blogspot.com/

[mariasmemo]

American Eclipse

Yes, it is coming. August 21st to be exact. Mark your calendar as the MMA will be hosting activities during the days before it and on the day as well. While we will not see a total solar eclipse, we will get a partial view – about 75% of the Sun will be “bitten” or covered in shadow.

There is of course much press surrounding this event. And, in June, David Baron’s book, American Eclipse, was released. This was something that was in the works for quite a few years – he first contacted me probably about five years ago concerning Maria Mitchell’s papers. It was great to see the final result after numerous contacts with David, questions, discussions, etc. Maria Mitchell viewed three solar eclipses in her life – the first being right here from 1 Vestal Street in 1831 when she was 12 ½ years old. She counted seconds for her father, William, which then allowed them to determine the exact longitude of the Mitchell House – 70.105 longitude. (The latitude is 41.281.)

David has already been interviewed on NPR (see our MMA Facebook page) and is making his book tour rounds – I am hoping he will come out to us next summer to celebrate Maria Mitchell’s 200th Birthday – Dava Sobel has said she would join us. Smithsonian Magazine also did an interview with David in the column “Small Talk” in its most recent issue. And thankfully, David corrected them on their maybe not entirely correct ideas about Maria and her influence on women in the sciences.

I am in the midst of reading the book. Maria Mitchell is one of about four astronomers who are featured so she plays a large role in his discussion of the eclipse of 1878. Maria travelled to Colorado to view the eclipse with her students – making a rather serous sensation – you know, all those ladies traveling out to the wild West by themselves with no men to protect them and traveling in open wagons and trains. Such horrors! (Well, at least that would have been the opinion in that period.)

So, to celebrate Maria – and of course the eclipse – check out American Eclipse.

JNLF

[trendexplainer]

Kermit the Frog: It’s Not Easy Being a Meme

When Jim Henson created Kermit the Frog in 1955, he surely had no idea that his puppet would go on to become a timeless cultural icon, a celebrity in his own right, and most recently, an internet meme sensation. Yet decades before Reddit and Imgur, Kermit was already the perfect candidate to become all those things. His simple character design has remained virtually unchanged for over 60 years, making him instantly recognizable and easy to edit and remix. His static ping pong ball eyes and relative lack of features make him dependent on body language, props, and captions to express emotions. And he has appeared in hundreds of episodes of The Muppet Show and Sesame Street and starred in dozens of films, so the internet holds a dizzying array of Kermit photos to form the basis of memes. Kermit has competed on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire and made the rounds on daytime and late night talk shows with multiple generations of hosts. There is not one, but two Kermit puppets behind glass at the Smithsonian. He is the most interesting frog in the world.

How could he NOT occasionally take over the internet?

According to Google Trends, the most popular Kermit meme is what Know Your Meme calls “But That’s None of My Business.” It typically features Kermit nonchalantly drinking a beverage and calling out questionable behavior or hypocrisy, asserting at the end “but that’s none of my business.” I think it’s meant to play Kermit as a gossipy casual observer, and often a condescending one. Many of these witty social observations originated in black internet subculture and made the rounds in those circles before reaching the internet at large.

There are two main incarnations of But That’s None of My Business: one of Kermit drinking tea in a 2014 Lipton advertisement, and the other of Kermit sipping milk through a straw in the very first episode of The Muppet Show (skip to about four minutes in, you’ll know it when you see it). This trend reached peak popularity in the days following June 20th, 2014, when an Instagram account was created to highlight the best of Kermit’s shade throwing and gained over 130,000 followers.

(I just want to pause here so I can imagine reading the previous sentence to Jim Henson in 1977 and wonder how he’d react to the idea of his character thriving in a bizarre, complex world Henson would never live to see.)

But That’s None of My Business enjoys blue-chip meme status to this day, but was given a brief boost on June 21st, 2016 when Good Morning America infamously tweeted a collage of popular memes and used the hashtag #tealizard to describe Kermit. Tea lizard! Predictably, Twitter lost its collective mind. Mocking of GMA as an out of touch corporate enterprise ensued, as well as the inevitable corrections that frogs are amphibians, not lizards. There was even backlash accusing GMA of whitewashing the Kermit meme by erasing its black comedian origins. In a strange turn of events, the social media coordinator for GMA tried to claim on Twitter that people have actually called this meme Tea Lizard, implicitly casting everyone else as out of touch.

Here’s the great thing about tea lizard, though: a year earlier, in the spring of 2015, scientists announced they discovered a new species of glass frog in Costa Rica that bears a striking resemblance to you-know-who:

Newly discovered frog is a Kermit look-a-like. #StopEverything #StillNewStuffInTheWorld http://t.co/8qZuTYoO3G pic.twitter.com/2e0gt5sIIf

— KariAnn Ramadorai (@KariAnnWrites) April 20, 2015

This does little to rebut the Tea Lizard truthers, and maybe we have to brush aside the fact that the original Kermit actually did look more like a lizard, but I still find it hard to believe that many people would call a fuzzy, toothless, scaleless creature—who again, calls himself a frog—a lizard.

The other famous Kermit meme has been dubbed “Evil Kermit,” and it’s taken from a screenshot of the 2014 film Muppets Most Wanted. It’s a shot of Kermit facing his evil look-alike nemesis Constantine, who is wearing a black Sith robe over his eyes. (I think it really speaks to Kermit's unique design that neither Kermit nor Constantine's face is visible in this photo but it’s still obvious who it is.) The captions always imagine the poster’s inner urges to make poor choices in the form of a two-line dialogue—essentially a version of the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. The tweet that started it all was posted on November 6th, 2016, and the meme grew in popularity over the following weeks, even inspiring a Miss Piggy version.

You’ll notice that the popularity bump from But That’s None of My Business has an immediate sharp decline, while the spike from Evil Kermit decreased more slowly. I have a few thoughts as to why. One, leisure time on the internet seems to increase in late December as people have time off work and school (see The Annual Cycle of Netflix Popularity). Around this time, a smaller Kermit meme—a Kermit aftershock, if you will—began to reemerge on Twitter thanks to the large following of the quirky high-concept account @jonnysun.

On December 12th, 2016, @jonnysun tweeted this:

when u give urself a gentle hug evrey night before u go to bed, reassuring urself that no mater wat, the day was yours bc u chose to live it pic.twitter.com/fTH8o5k3h9

— jomny sun (@jonnysun) December 13, 2016

This sad, fuzzy Kermit doll belongs to a 17-year-old girl from Finland named Pinja. In September 2016, she began taking photos of her Kermit in various settings and positions and posting them in a thread of tweets, which garnered attention in certain corners of Twitter. Sad Kermit originated in a tweet from Pinja about how much she missed one of her friends. When Jonny posted his own caption for Sad Kermit, he replied to it with a challenge for his followers to turn Sad Kermit into a ‘wholesome meme,’ meaning to lend it a positive and encouraging caption rather than a snide or sarcastic one. Many people obliged in the following days, and BuzzFeed has kindly curated the highlights.

@jonnysun the chalemge.. can u wholesome the sadest meme in the worlbd, i think.. no

— jomny sun (@jonnysun) December 13, 2016

I mention all this because December 12th also happens to be the point on the graph where the negative slope abruptly becomes less steep. The wholesome meme crusade wasn’t enough to stop the inevitable decline of Evil Kermit mania, but I think it did have an effect in prolonging it. I also believe (or at least I want to) that good natured humor—like the captions for Evil Kermit tend to be—naturally has stronger staying power than the condescension and criticism offered by But That’s None of My Business. Perhaps there is more social incentive to share a meme that lets people laugh at themselves or at life in general than a meme that chastises others, even if it’s also for laughs.

(If that’s true, it would be a fair criticism to point out that the snarkier meme was more popular. But I’ll remind you that trend popularity is based on how frequently Kermit was Googled as a percentage of total searches at the time, and the world got pretty busy searching for non-Kermit related subjects a couple days after November 6th.The election appearing to interfere with unrelated trends may turn out to be relatively common— it showed up at the end of How Google Trends Works too.)

My annotated graph would have you believe Evil Kermit was only 60% as popular at its peak as But That’s None of My Business, but of course it’s a bit more complicated than that. It turns out the spike for Kermit searches in April 2013 had nothing to do with Kermit the Frog, but is instead related to the conviction of abortion provider Kermit Gosnell for murder, manslaughter, and a host of other federal drug crimes related to his abhorrent cesspool of a clinic and his felonious practice of late term and even post-birth abortions. I did NOT see this coming when I set out to write a lighthearted blog about a Muppet and I don’t want it to take over this post. But clearly, using generic terms like “Kermit” to track meme popularity is subject to unintended and confounding interference.

Aside: I can’t fathom that there was a period of time when people named their sons Kermit. But lo and behold, there’s a whole side controversy over whether Kermit the Frog was named after a friend of Jim Henson…though I’ve never heard of anyone by that name born after The Muppet Show aired.

Anyways, I think choosing more specific search terms can shed some light on the popularity of the memes independently of the popularity of the Muppet himself:

trends.embed.renderExploreWidget("TIMESERIES", {"comparisonItem":[{"keyword":"evil kermit","geo":"","time":"today 5-y"},{"keyword":"but thats none of my business","geo":"","time":"today 5-y"},{"keyword":"kermit tea","geo":"","time":"today 5-y"}],"category":0,"property":""}, {"exploreQuery":"q=evil%20kermit,but%20thats%20none%20of%20my%20business,kermit%20tea","guestPath":"https://trends.google.com:443/trends/embed/"});

You can see three spikes we’ve talked about, but this time I’ve included two names for the tea drinking meme. Because every data point is normalized based on the largest spike, I don’t think it’s a bad assumption to compare the sum of the red and orange lines to the blue. In which case, But That’s None of My Business was more like 94% as popular as Evil Kermit. But that’s assuming there are no other aliases for the Evil Kermit Meme. One starts to get the impression Google Trends isn’t the best tool to do thorough mathematical comparisons.

So we’ve covered a case of mistaken identity with a murderer, a ridiculous Twitter gaffe, and a rare species of frog. What’s next?

Guerilla marketing, it turns out. In the midst of a summer of high-profile celebrity split-ups and divorces, Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy released statements on Facebook and Twitter on August 4th, 2015 announcing they were ending their long-term romantic relationship. But— of course—they would continue to work together professionally on their upcoming TV show “The Muppets” on ABC later that fall. This generated headlines in publications like USA Today and The Hollywood Reporter, but also in the style section of The Washington Post and CNN. (Miss Piggy even did a tell-all on Good Morning America just 9 months before they would forget who Kermit is.) Some reactions contained real emotion, as the news was meant to be taken as the end of a celebrity romance that spanned decades. A few weeks later, it was announced that Kermit had found a new girlfriend, a redheaded pig named Denise. All this internet buzz set up the character dynamics for the beginning of the new TV series when it premiered September 22nd, 2015 on ABC. These news articles were a show outside a show about making a show, because sometimes the Muppets just roll three layers deep.

I find it striking that this well-timed marketing stunt generated less than half as much interest in Kermit as the creation of an Instagram account that did nothing but post pictures of Kermit mocking social faux pas. Perhaps internet users saw the drama as the corporate stunt that it was, rolled their eyes, and moved on. Either way, it’s a startling reminder to modern PR executives that no amount of focus testing, brand development, and approved social media language will give them full control over what happens to their intellectual property.

Also striking is the fact that I just referred to Kermit as intellectual property and it probably felt a little odd to think about him in such cold legal terms. It did to me when I first typed it. But it’s true: as of 2004, Kermit the Frog is the property of an international media conglomerate called The Walt Disney Company. And by the way, so is C-3PO, Epic Rap Battles of History, and Good Morning America (which airs on ABC, yet another Disney subsidiary). We try to ignore the faceless corporations behind our beloved fictional characters the way we try not to think about how dirty our belts must get when we buckle them before washing our hands: often successfully, but not always. But the Muppets are different than virtually every other TV and movie character because the media and pop culture in general seem bent on pretending that the Muppets are real people.

Okay, yes, C-3PO, R2-D2, and BB-8 did appear at the Oscars last year and give a shout-out to John Williams. And sure, there is an entire attraction at Disney World premised on the droids being real. And yes, okay, fine, live Stormtroopers march around Disney’s Hollywood Studios. But that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction with the real world, and it’s the same for Disney’s other characters. Mickey and Minnie don’t give interviews to journalists and run official Twitter accounts. They don’t even speak! They interact with the real world by giving kids hugs, autographs, and photo-ops. Adults join in too, one reason being to have fun with their kids, a more cynical reason being the $95per person incentive they paid just for the opportunity. But I suspect most guests - kids included - know it isn’t real but play along anyways because there’s no other place where you can get a big hug from a 7-foot tall Pooh Bear. It’s special not because The Walt Disney Company or grown-ups say it’s real, but because we let it be real.

So it goes for the Muppets, but for some reason, we let them take their reality way farther into ours. It probably has to do with the way they entered the public consciousness through a variety show about making a variety show guest starring real human celebrities decades before wacky meta hijinks became popular. (One surefire way to attract praise and adulation from Hollywood is to affectionately and relentlessly lampoon it.) Audiences became used to seeing the Muppets interact with human stars. Next thing you know, the Muppets are being invited to speak in public and make TV guest appearances of their own. Kermit was evenbeing credited a the author of a best-selling book. The crossovers between Muppet world and the real world became part of their charm. But unlike Mickey, Pooh Bear, Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny, normal people like you and I can’t go to a theme park or a mall and shake their hands. The Muppets were accessible only to celebrities, which made them celebrities on their own.

Of course, the real reason non-celebrities can’t meet the Muppets in person is because it would be impossible to hide the talented voice actors and puppeteers who bring them to life below the camera, and seeing how the sausage gets made would shatter the layers of pseudo-reality they’ve fabricated for themselves. So rarely are the human performers behind the Muppets recognized for their work. They generally get press only when the story is about the current Muppet production itself rather than the actual Muppets. It has become totally normal for reporters to interview Muppets in character. It’s been argued that this practice makes reporters complicit in providing free advertising for Muppet movies and TV shows under the guise of arts journalism. Is the charade necessary for the Muppets to stay unique and relevant in our postmodern TV world?

I was thinking about the media and the future of the Muppets when just last Sunday, Sesame Workshop introduced Julia, a young Muppet with autism who will join the cast of Sesame Street on April 4th. David Folkenflik’s segment on NPR’s Morning Edition and Lesley Stahl’s segment on 60 Minutes include brief scenes where they talk to Abby Cadabby, Big Bird, and Elmo in character. Neither of them really needed to do this for their stories to work, but there’s something irresistibly charming about getting to interview Muppets. In NPR’s segment in particular, the in-character exchange with Abby set up how the Muppets describe Julia and her condition before Folkenflik moved on to the substance: interviewing the actors and showrunners at Sesame Workshop. With a format allowing for extended segments, 60 Minutes went more in-depth about how Sesame Street began as an experiment in educational television for children and how they continue their mission today. The Sesame Workshop conducts extensive research and consultation with educators and child psychologists to develop their characters and programming. They reached out to 14 autism advocacy groups for input into how to best portray the condition, and published books and digital content featuring Julia before bringing her onto Sesame Street. The Workshop hopes to familiarize non-autistic children with the kinds of behaviors autistic children commonly exhibit. And by showing how Julia fits into her group of Muppet friends, they hope to send the message that autistic kids can fit into their friend groups too. This is the latest of many difficult social situations Sesame Street has tackled to help today’s children better understand the world and treat others with respect. They’ve introduced children to wheelchairs, skin color, incarceration, and even death. As long as Sesame Workshop continues to pioneer new ways to make our increasingly complex world understandable to children, I believe Muppets will have no problem staying relevant. (The real question is whether or not local PBS stations will continue receiving federal subsidies to broadcast it, and for that, you’ll have to ask Ronald Grump…I mean…you know  who I mean.)

The Muppets of the movies are like the rude older siblings of the Sesame Street Muppets. Their mission is entertainment, not non-profit children’s education. Obviously, nostalgia lends a lot of power to the Muppets, which is one reason why the 2015 TV series was marketed towards adult audiences and dealt with less than family-friendly themes.

I don’t know if the rude older sibling Muppets will forever hold the respect of the public simply because they’ve endured the test of time, regardless of what they have to offer today.

But I do know this: if I saw Joy and Sadness from Inside Out at Disney World, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second to get my photo taken with them. To be honest, I think I’d be a little starstruck. I literally keep a Sadness plush doll on my bookshelf to remind me how much the message of that movie resonated with me. I’ve spent an unreasonable amount of time thinking about Inside Out, and it’s made me invested in the characters to the point where if I were offered the opportunity to simply pretend to meet them, I’d have no reason not to, regardless how silly it is. Maybe some people have a similar bond with the Muppets. Maybe this country has that kind of a bond with the Muppets, so our culture gives them attention whenever they have something to say. If we're really so invested in our relationship with them, maybe we have no reason not to as well. because we’re invested and have no reason not to. The Muppets make their share of problematic (and dare I say unfunny) jokes. But their timeless, cornball humor gave them a place in our culture long enough for them to become a fixture and even make fun of themselves along the way.

Iconic, self-aware, and eager to self-parody?

Kermit didn’t need the internet to become a meme.