#which was 1. far too boring and 2. wilson would definitely know

[heph]

may I request some of hilson's s2 domestic era??? (YOUR ART SKILLS ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPRESSIVE)

Wilson already knew

[twh-news]

'Loki' Full Season 1 Review: The Most Frustrating Thing Is How Incomplete the Story Feels

Editor's note: The following contains spoilers through the Season 1 finale of Loki, "For All Time. Always."

[TWH-NEWS note: Tom is NOT confirmed to be on Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness even though the article so claims. Marvel hasn't confirmed it.]

The Loki season finale is perhaps one of the most vexing episodes of television I have seen in quite some time. The Disney+ sci-fi drama, tracking the events following Loki's (Tom Hiddleston) escape from the pre-established timeline, was never confirmed to be an ongoing show versus a limited series, with rumors of a second season on the horizon from the beginning, so the biggest twist delivered by "For All Time. Always." ended up being confirmation of a Season 2 with a post-credits title card.

However, while there were other key reveals made during the episode, those reveals left behind plenty of story to explore in future seasons. Too much story. There's a difference between a few dangling plot threads and a mess of string, and the staggering number of questions left unresolved by "For All Time. Always." crosses a line when it comes to completion — especially given the fact that there's no clear sense of when the show might return, and the real story being told is much bigger than the fate of one mischievous scamp.

In general, every episode of this show was beautifully made, with immense credit going to director Kate Herron, head writer Michael Waldron, and the creative team. The cast of known all-stars like Tom Hiddleston, Owen Wilson, and Gugu Mbatha-Raw, blended with new all-stars like Sophia Di Martino and Wunmi Mosaku, did a remarkable job of grounding even the most fantastical moments in raw humanity, and the writing popped with verve and wit. Also, Loki does come full circle on what was its original raison d'etre — the redemption of a character who literally was plucked out of the timeline at his worst, having attacked Manhattan with an alien force so destructive that the Earth needed a whole damn team of superheroes to stop him. On this score, the show was wildly successful, breaking down Loki's sense of grandeur and purpose in the first episode and then slowly but surely rebuilding him into a man capable of evolving beyond his past. Loki did more to examine a single character's psychology and motivations than we've ever seen in the context of the MCU, and all of the progress and growth made by the character, as a result, feels truly earned.

However, if Loki's redemption was the only thing this show had been about, it would have been a very boring show, and Loki was far from boring. The official theme of the series was "What makes a Loki a Loki?" but the real issues being raised were far more existential; in so many ways, this was a show about faith and free will, an undercurrent that deserves more exploration and frankly appreciation, especially after the questions and themes left dangling by the last episode.

This element proved to be key to so much of the show's construction, especially when it comes to the TVA, which basically functions as a religious order — its devotees slavishly sacrificing their lives to the cause of protecting the Sacred Timeline. It's not subtle, especially when the dark side of it is revealed, those devotees learning that their service happened against their will. "We can't take away people's free will, can't you see that?" Mobius pleads with Ravonna in their final scene together, before she walks away in something resembling agreement with him, telling him that she's going in search of free will herself.

Loki Season 1, by the end, becomes a show not just about a crisis of faith, but about an apocalypse. Every time a story about apocalypses comes up, I find it impossible to forget that the Greek word from which the term originates actually means "revelation." That's why the part of the Bible about the world ending is called the Book of Revelations, but beyond that, the definition serves as a reminder of why endings can matter. Endings are beginnings, in some ways. A painful breakup reveals the flaws in what might have seemed like a loving relationship. Extreme climate change is a revelation regarding humanity's callous attitude towards its impact on the environment. For the characters of Loki — perhaps the entire MCU — the apocalypse they're facing following the destruction of the Sacred Timeline also means the revelation of what lives they left behind.

Certainly there's a ton of room for speculation as to what lies ahead for these characters, but the fact is that the next chapter of Loki's journey won't even be told on Disney+, as Hiddleston is reportedly in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, and there's no telling when we might return to resolve the events of the Season 1 finale. Cliffhangers are one thing; anyone who grew up watching '90s TV learned the hard way how to handle the dramatic season endings of The X-Files or Star Trek: The Next Generation. But Loki didn't dangle its characters off a cliff — it pushed them off the edge, leaving them suspended in mid-air for who knows how long.

Back in the days of The X-Files you at least knew that whatever jaw-dropping cliffhanger the season finale had just delivered would be addressed by the season premiere in just a few months. (Maybe as many as six months, depending on the baseball season.) That's a sense of certainty that Loki fans do not have the luxury of enjoying; based on where the conversations around a second season currently stand, it could be a while before the contracts are even signed. Conservatively, at this point, it feels unlikely that we'll get a second season of Loki until near the end of 2022, and given that the first season took over two years from its announcement to now to actually debut, 2023 doesn't feel like too much of a stretch. Maybe Owen Wilson and Gugu Mbatha-Raw get to make cameos in Doctor Strange 2 as well? Nothing is possible and everything is possible. We just have to wait for the answer, and in the meantime stew in dissatisfaction.

"Only one person gets free will. The one in charge," Ravonna tells Mobius — implicitly referring to He Who Remains (Jonathan Majors). Who, speaking of, is now dead, Sylvie having completed her one primary quest to revenge herself upon the ones who took her life away. That, combined with the Wizard of Oz parallels, makes this a show that's fascinating to parse (Sylvie literally killed God!), but frustratingly incomplete in its themes. Literally as the episode officially ended on the visage of Kang enshrined as the ruler of the TVA, I said out loud "Well, there's going to be a Season 2," and I suppose that thanks are owed to Marvel and Disney+ for not leaving that element in suspence for more than two minutes and two seconds.

But if I have a religion, it's my belief in the power of storytelling, how the myths we create for ourselves and others can shape lives and hopefully make them better. One tenet of that is the idea that great stories deserve some sense of completion. So, the first season of Loki committed a pretty grievous sin.

[anika-ann]

Ground Rules (for Love and War) - Pt.2

Of Friendship and Love

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader        Word count: 3600

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Summary: Being trapped in a dark workshop with two sopersoldier of whom you have a crush on one. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: silly pranks, blackout, attempt at humour, swearing… fluff

Part 1

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Your heart nearly gave out at the fright and instantly started to hammer wildly in your ribcage.

You couldn’t see in the sudden pitch-dark room, but you could sense two large frames of supersoldiers stepping into your space protectively, their backs to you, facing the potential threat.

The heat of their bodies reassured you as your breathing sounded way too loud, the sound of your heartbeat seemingly bouncing off of the walls, filling the large space. Needing to feel something, your shaky hand reached out, colliding with Steve’s wrist; at least you assumed it was Steve’s. He swiftly turned his hand, squeezing yours before letting go and focusing on the danger lurking in the dark.

You held your breath in anticipation, moments stretching. Why was nothing happening?

Clearly, Bucky had been brought here under false pretences and there was a thick chance that whoever had got him here – F.R.I.D.A.Y.?! – counted on you being here as well. Did they take Steve into account or was he the one variable that could mean the difference between death and life?

The icy silence was broken by a series of strangely familiar beeps.

You jumped good two feet above the floor at the sudden interruption, you pulse skyrocketing.

It was coming from your left, where Bucky stood, the unzipped pocket of his hoodie giving out a faint light.

He cautiously pulled the phone out, his face illuminated by the greyish glow. He eyed it absently, trying to stay on alert for an attack. Then his shoulders slumped, his eyes closing shut.

What? WHAT?! What was happening? Was it a death threat? To him? To someone else? To the whole world?

As the silence stretched once more, only interrupted by Bucky’s low growl, your mind was racing, coming out with different catastrophic scenarios.

And suddenly something clicked.

“Were those… sounds from the Angry Birds game?” you broke the deadly quiet and Bucky’s growl was more distinct this time.

“Yes,” Bucky confirmed darkly and you could feel Steve slowly relax by your side, the tension radiating from him easing as if was brought up to speed with what was going on. He was still standing dangerously close to you, but you weren’t about to complain. Definitely not until you knew what was going on. “I’m going to murder him. Slowly. And painfully.”

He sounded truly pissed off. But also annoyed. You forced yourself to take a deep breath.

“Who’s him and what is he saying?” you asked, voice thin. Despite some of the fear leaving your body, your knees felt like buckling. Good thing Steve was so close that he would be able to catch you. Or perhaps his presence was one of the reasons why you felt weak in your knees?

“Homing pigeon, who else? Wilson.”

Oh. Oh.

Wait, what?

“Shitted you pants, didn’t you?” Bucky read out loud and you could hear him grinding his teeth. Illuminated by the phone screen, he looked like he was about to live up to his reputation as the Winter Soldier. “You didn’t get a heart-attack though, did you? Because that would be considerably less fun. Enjoy your lockdown, Barnes.”

“Oh thank god,” you breathed out, finally endlessly relieved.

“I’m gonna hold him while you punch him, Buck. And then I’m gonna punch you. This has got too far. You wanna play cat and mouse, please, by all means, but do not pull us into it,” Steve said seriously, his voice carrying a hint of disappointment and irritation at his friends’ behaviour.

Your hand acted on its own account, needing to comfort him all of sudden. He covered the back of your hand when it blindly found its forearm. It caused the corners of your lips to lift.

“So much for not getting caught in the middle,” you hummed, recalling your words to him from two days prior and you had a feeling he smiled at that.

Bucky sighed, exasperated. “Fuck lockdown. We can figure something out, right?”

At that, your mood fell instantly. It was your turn to sigh, because… you weren’t so certain about that. Freeing your hand, you crossed your arms on your chest.

“Well, the power is down,” you pointed out the obvious. “The thing is, I’m ninety percent sure Tony didn’t synchronize the new protocols with the emergency power unit yet.”

“English?” Bucky hissed.

You were pretty confident that he understood, but didn’t want to believe it. You rolled your eyes and explained.

“The power won’t kick in on its own, because the new security update isn’t quite… complete. It has to be done manually. And Tony didn’t share how.”

“So we just have to call Tony?” Steve asked, relieved.

“Yeah… about that. I might have threatened to all of his Ironman suits if he left his phone on during the date with Pepper he’s currently on…”

“Oh,” Steve let out, clearly surprised, but at the same time, slightly pleased. Good. He cared for more than just his friends’ safety – he also cared about their happiness. Not that it was any surprise to you. “Where’s the date?”

You chewed on your lower lip, squeezing your eyes shut as you prepared for the storm which was doubtlessly about to follow your revelation.

“…Richmond.”

“WHAT?!” sounded stereo from both sides of your face and you whined, guilt biting at your stomach. But how were you supposed to know this was gonna happen?!

You would bet Samuel fucking Wilson planned it exactly because he knew about the date. And about its location.

“There’s a really nice restaurant with great atmosphere, okay?!” you instantly defended yourself. “It had wonderful lobster and Tony actually paid attention to what Pepper said for once, so he knew she would love it there!”

Steve sighed, but assured you that it was alright, recognizing your contribution.

“So we’ll just punch our way out.”

“…yeah, about that,” you shot down Bucky’s proposition before he could get too excited about it.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! What now?”

“Tony might have lined the walls and doors with vibranium after Ultron, T’Challa provided it to him. He thought it would be safer…?”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s a paranoid bastard?” you offered, earning an affirmative hum from Steve.

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

“So, let me get this straight. He lines the walls with rare metal, but he still trusts his tech, which already turned against him before,” Bucky stated in disbelief.

“Uhhmmm, yeah, sounds about right.”

You could feel a gush of wind that probably signalled Bucky throwing his arms up in exasperation.

“So… we’re trapped,” Steve summed up and you reluctantly agreed.

“Basically.”

“In the dark,” Bucky added. “Well, for you anyway.”

“I mean, not complete dark, my phone’s somewhere on the table and has some battery– wait, are you telling me you can actually see in this… darkest dark?” you demanded incredulously.

“Yeah, a bit,” Bucky confirmed absently as he reached for his phone again to light it up. “Mine has like 5 percent.”

“I don’t have my phone with me,” Steve confessed.

“Seriously, Steve?”

“I’m still in the tower! No one outside the tower calls me!” Steve shot back at Bucky defensively.

Legendary duo arguing! Alert! Cannot be happening!

“Alright, boys. Calm down,” you asked of them gently. “We’ll figure something out. Help me find my phone…” Bucky obediently did, even though you were sure he was frowning. You lit it up contentedly. “Sweet. I have about ten percent.” You turned on the flashlight attached to the camera and squinted to see better as you headed to one of the cupboards. “There are some flashlights right he-“ Your face twisted in confusion when you found the cupboard empty. Well. “--or not. Let’s scan this place…”

As it turned out, the workshop was a place of wonders. Rest assured, you knew about a lot of strange things hidden through the cabinets, but some treasures still surprised you.

Mostly, it was Steve and Bucky, who were bewildered at their findings.

“What is Operation doing here?” Steve questioned, pulling out the game box for you to see – well, the outline of it anyway – as if he wanted you to confirm that it was indeed there and he wasn’t hallucinating.

“Don’t even ask,” you rolled your eyes.

Have you mentioned Tony needed constant supervision and that he was a man-child? Yeah? Never mind, you could say that over and over again and it wouldn’t get less truthful.

“We could play,” Bucky offered casually, clearly getting bored by the recon mission.

“I’m not playing Operation with you. I can barely see.”

“Fine, fine…” Bucky grumbled and Steve put the box back, moving to other mysterious cabinets.

“Oh. Candles. And matches. That might be helpful. And a bag of chips.”

“Nicely done, Captain,” you praised him, turning to him to flash him a grin he could probably barely see. It dawned to you too late how flirtatious it might have sounded, how strangely his rank rolled of your tongue, so you quickly spoke up again. “Hand it over.”

“Keep looking. One bag of chips isn’t enough…” Bucky stated, but Steve handed you the to-be light sources so you could place them to your liking.

His fingers brushed your hands tenderly as he passed you the items and you weren’t certain whether it was an accident or not. Judging by the faint outline of his shy smile, you thought it might not. It made your cheeks burn and your heart swell.

“Twister?” Bucky proposed this time, breaking the moment you shared with Steve and you rolled your eyes.

“Eh, Tony sometimes… plays with Dum-E,” you explained, hoping he would get the picture. “Usually when he’s drunk. I’m not-“ -playing with you.

“Got it. Monopoly then?”

You whined. It wasn’t exactly your favourite game and you knew you would lose in the matter of minutes, but if you were being honest… you were about to run out of things to do here and your phone was about to die, so you might as well play the game Tony Stark loved.

“Well. Let me just light up the candles, okay? It’s gonna be a short game. You two have superbrains. But I might survive few rounds if I really try…” you murmured and proceeded with illuminating the space.

You in fact did last few rounds. You even managed to step up and buy some of the tiny red houses. And you… you might even have been having fun.

Until you got the worst luck ever, stepping on the most fearful square owned by no other than Steve Rogers and you had to start counting all of your money… only to find out that it, if fact, wasn’t enough. Not after you had already payed him once that round and to Bucky.

“Ahh, dammit.”

“You can always just… sell something,” Bucky noted and you shot him a glare. That move always signalled the beginning of an end.

You were frowning at the board, chewing on your lower lip while you considered your options. Not that there were many of them. Your poor boat-shaped figure was about to sink.

“Or you could pay me later,” Steve’s voice broke your mussing and your head snapped to him. “I’ll give you five tosses – someone might step on something of yours by then.”

You examined his inviting expression, his sharp features softened by the candlelight. For a moment, your brain switched off. For some reason, you hadn’t truly looked at him since the game started, your gaze rather on the board and dice, but now, when you raised your gaze, you were amazed by the ethereal aura around him, by the startling beauty. His already warm eyes reflected the tiny flames, the shadows accenting the curve of his lips, defined cheekbones, strong jaw.

One of his eyebrows rose in slow motion, only for you to realize with shock that you had been staring at him for way too long. You hoped he believed you only got lost in thought; which you did, but about him, not about the game.

“I… don’t that’s possible according to the rules,” you whispered, voice hoarser than expected. You cleared your throat, your heart racing at both being caught and captivated by the vision of Steve in the sweet light.

“Sometimes it’s alright to bend the rules a bit for a good cause. Where the fun would be if I condemned you to bankrupting in about two tosses?” he shrugged, apparently oblivious to your inner turmoil and you released the breath you were holding.

“One toss, knowing my luck… are you sure?”

“Positive,” he assured you with a small smile and you could melt at spot. And it had nothing to do with that stupid capitalistic board game.

“Thank you. I guess I’ll just have to pay you with interest too when I finally do.”

You honestly had no intention for it to come out like that… it had just… happened to sound this flirty. His eyes locked on yours, the warm candlelight still casting shadows over his cheeks bones, sharp jaw, plush lips… all of him was calling out for you, luring your heart in, your breath catching in your throat and his gaze flickered to the lower part on your face just for a split second, but it was enough to cause you a little heart attack, a firework exploding in your abdomen. Christ.

“I guess it’s my turn then,” Bucky cleared his throat meaningfully and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice.

How the hell did you forget he was still here with you?

Also, you were playing Monopoly and when you had said you’d pay with interest, you had originally thought paying with some fake money on top. It was an accident that somehow, your brain had switched to its more primitive form, thinking about very different things and you needed to get it back in check. Right now.

Bucky helped with that significantly; while you were able to pay Steve after one single toss, without interest, because he strictly refused that (you would swear that even in the lack of light, you could see the tips of his ears burning), Sergeant Barnes was not one to be mollified. He mercilessly slayed you and you lost everything in next two rounds, because that was just your luck.

Steve proposed to end the game with that (even when he was surprisingly on his way to win despite your debacle caused by Bucky), but it felt unjust.

“I trust you, Steve. You’ll win this. And it’s okay for you to have fun. I’ll just watch how you fight over it like children,” you teased lightly, grinning up at him despite losing.

“Okay. Whenever you get too bored, we’ll stop,” he declared and your expression softened at the gentle gaze boring into your eyes.

You couldn’t remember the last time you kept staring at each other like that – more often than not, either you or him would eventually avert the other’s gaze. There ultimately was something different about tonight. You certainly didn’t find it a bad thing though. If you were being completely honest, you liked it. Steve truly was the sweetest guy you had ever met and you weren’t oblivious to his appearance, nor to his alluring personality. It was simply the assumption of having zero chance with him that had been making you hold back. But tonight… it seemed there might be a possibility even.

Was there?

Letting your thoughts wander, you watched with a fond smile on your face as the two friends fell into a merciless fight over fake money and real estate. The two world’s supersoldiers bickering like an old couple, yet resembling children.

It was when the tiredness from the whole day on your feet started settling in. First, it showed in a subtle way; goosebumps rose on your skin, uncomfortable shiver running through your whole body.

It didn’t go unnoticed; eyeing your outfit, only consisting of thin t-shirt and jeans, as you curled up into yourself on the couch, a concerned wrinkle appeared on Steve’s face.

You flashed him a drowsy smile, shaking your head so he wouldn’t worry. Ha, as if that could work! He scanned the room and then strode away, unmistakably finding the blanket you had discovered earlier in one of the cabinets. He gently laid it over your shoulders before returning to the game, stealing a glance on you ever so often.

At least you thought so. Adding warmth to the mix was the perfect recipe for your eyelids growing heavier by the second. Before you knew it, your head lulled, the motion instantly causing you to jolt awake.  

A chuckle escaped to both of your companions; except Steve had enough decency to try and sound subtle. Bucky, not so much.

“It’s almost over,” he grinned and had you had the energy, you would raise your eyebrow to show your skepticism; it was never almost over with Monopoly. Or, more precisely, the ‘almost over’ usually lasted about two hours.

“It can be over right now,” Steve offered kindly and you shook your head stubbornly, the movement causing the world swim.

“Nope. You win,” you attempted to say, your words slurring, your tongue feeling as lead-like as your eyelids.

A shift in Steve’s posture caught your attention as he scooted a little closer to you on the couch and the shock of his skin nearly making contact with yours nearly brought you back to full consciousness.

“Just lean in whenever you need,” he whispered barely audible, as if he was letting you into his darkest secret.

You mumbled something doubtlessly incomprehensible – even to yourself – and allowed your temple to fall on his impressive shoulder. You almost moaned in bliss.

“Warm…”

How was he so warm? He only wore a t-shirt, like you.

Why would Tony call him a Capsicle? He was more like a space heater… eh, you’d figure it out… later… later…

You felt your muscles relaxing, melting into the pleasant warmth and soon, you were dead to the world.

A gentle sway brought you back to consciousness, soft dip as fabric slid under your body and you subconsciously curled back towards the warmth that seemed to be disappearing. It still did, but cushions soon replaced it. You were too tired to resist, sinking into the mattress instead.

Faintly recalling the events of the night, you figured Tony must have rescued you from your prison. Mind painfully slow, it dawned to you that Steve, whom you possibly used as your personal pillow slash space heater, carried you to bed.

Sweet. Very, very sweet, always so nice, but never like with the others… perhaps it was about to change? You had passed some kind of a test? Or did you…?

“Steve… will you… treat me… like all… your friends?” your words slurred, quiet and mumbled mostly to your actual pillow, but apparently, he understood.

Or maybe you were just dreaming.

“Would you like that?” his lips must have barely moved, his voice so low you might as well only imagine it.

You felt like you only considered it for a second, but you couldn’t be sure. You just wanted to sleep. Just answer one more question to the chivalrous Steve, who was carefully tucking you in.

“Nah… Too pretty… to be friend.”

He chuckled breathlessly, a huff of air caressing your face.

“Yes, you are, doll. Sleep. I’ll try not to put my foot in my mouth tomorrow morning when you’re really awake and I finally ask you out, okay?”

Promise? “Uh-uh. So sweet.”

“Goodnight,” he whispered an inch from your head, warmth touching your forehead for only a fraction of second.

“’night.”

The reality was, he did put his foot in his moth the next morning. But only a bit; he still got a yes from you. As if no was ever an option. Vaguely remembering what had been happening after you had fallen asleep in the workshop, you returned his gesture – except his forehead was too high, so your lips brushed his cheek instead; you had to tug on his sleeve to reach at least that spot.

He certainly didn’t seem to mind if the delighted smile he gave you in return was anything to go by.

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It wasn’t the only significant encounter of that morning though.

Bucky walked into kitchen only to find Sam casually sipping his coffee, a wide grin on his face.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” the sergeant hissed, rewarded by raised brows.

“Come on, Barnes. You should be smarter than that. Do you really think Tony keeps candles around? And no flashlights? Dude. It was for romantic atmosphere. Even you could see how hopeless they were. It was all part of my master plan to get these two idiots together,” Sam revealed calmly, clicking his tongue when Bucky shot him a murderous look, leaning closer with a menacing face.

“Do you have any idea what kind of an eye-fuck session I’ve been through? What I had to witness? If it was such a master plan, why did I get stuck in there with them?!”

“As a psychical support to your best pal Steve…?”

Bucky looked like he was considering what kind of a murder would be most painful for the other man. Strangling him would be so… boring. Though no doubt satisfying enough.

Would be though? That bastard had the audacity to shrug as he placed his empty cup on the counter.

“Kidding, I’m his best pal. I figured that it would be fun to have you play the third wheel. We are still at war, Barnes,” he pointed out. “I just thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

Bucky’s fist hit the counter, making the poor cup rattle.

“Soon, I will kill one particular bird and I will need no stone,” Bucky stated with startling serenity. “Run, Wilson. Run.”

Sam Wilson was a brave man. But hell, when the former Winter Soldier tells you to run, you run and you’d better be grateful for the head start.

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S.R. masterlist

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart @cxptain​ @smilexcaptainx @scentedsongrebel​ @orions-nebula​

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Thank you for reading! :-*  If anyone wants in or out of Steve (or other) taglist, let me know via message or ask :))

[angry-slytherin]

Heaven Help Me(Ch 1)

[prompt credits to @imfullofideas thank you!

Prompt: AU. Izzie never got cancer and she and Alex are happily married. Well sort of. Alex is just going through the motions while trying to keep his wife happy. His life is turned upside down when he meets Jo Wilson and realizes she's what he's been missing all along ]

Some background: For story purposes, Jo is/was only 2 years behind Alex and Izzie in residency. Alex and Izzie are second-year attendings and Jo is a fellow. Alex and Izzie got married in their third/fourth(?) year of residency, like in the show. Also, Alex will not cheat on Izzie with Jo, because cheating is gross and adultery is worse. Jo will become a general surgeon(forever bitter she isn’t ortho in canon, but whatevs), as well as Alex being a gen. pediatric surgeon. Izzie is in oncology, but she will also perform surgery. Because despite her big heart, I cannot find anything I genuinely could see her doing as a surgeon; she’s a great doctor though. I just went with the crack canon that 16x16 brought us.

Without further ado, Chapter 1:

•••

It doesn’t take Jo Wilson very long after she moves to Seattle to conclude that the reason the small population of the city is so contrary, is due to the constant rain. Good weather means good moods, and lots of barometric pressure equals a lot of headaches. Which is what Jo has right now. A raging headache.

“Cross, how many times do I have to have these results sent back to the lab? You are a fifth year. Next year you’ll be an attending general surgeon. You will call the shots. If you can’t get simple lab results right, how is anybody supposed to trust you with their life? Get me a white-cell count and glucose levels for my mice, please.”

Cross nods his curly blonde head vigorously.

“Right, sorry Dr. Wilson.” Cross stares at Jo for a moment, before she shoos him.

“I swear the fifth year’s get duddier every year. You could steal another resident for your trial that has half a brain, I’m sure. And mice?” Jo turns around, to see Izzie Stevens leaning over a chart, smiling at her.

“You’re right, Dr. Stevens. But he knows my research so well. I have a pretty competent intern on it too, though. An oncology intern that I’m borrowing.” Jo leans on her elbow on the nurse’s desk.

“Ah right, you’re our new research fellow. I’m inspired by your work, Doctor...”

“Wilson, Josephine Wilson.”

“Doctor Wilson; its innovative. I was surprised to see Chief Bailey even put out a personal check to fund your fellowship.” Izzie smiles, and it makes Jo feel warm inside.

“Uh yeah, it was certainly a great opportunity. It wasn’t my original plan to come to Seattle, but plans change.” Jo gives a small smile, as Izzie hands her tablet to a nurse.

“Welcome to Seattle, then. The warnings are true, it rains a lot here.” And Izzie walks off.

“Thanks.” Jo calls over her shoulder.

“Doctor Wilson, your pager is going off.”

Jo looks at the nurse over the desk, “Right.” She feels her face flush. 911, OR 2.

***

A nurse slips latex gloves on Jo’s hands.

“You paged me?”

“Are you a general resident or something? If so, then yes, and get your damn hands in the patient, please.”

Jo looks up to see a face matching the voice; a male surgeon. She assumes he either hates female surgeons or residents with that tone.

“Fellow, a research fellow. I am also a board certified general surgeon, but I’ll gladly play resident for a minute.” She steps over to the table, “What do we have here?”

“Two-year-old boy; biliary atresia, I need an assist.”

“That would be why I’m here.”

Jo grabs the suction tube.

“It feels incredible to be in an OR. I’ve been here for a week and so far it’s been all paper work and setting up my lab, no operations yet for me. It’s like I have that intern-level high of being in here for the first time.”

“That’s great; but this kid needs your focus. I’ve been his doctor for a long time, and I’ve known you less than five minutes.”

“Doctor... well I don’t know you either, but look at his bile duct. He needs a Kasai.”

The male surgeon inspects the patient’s abdomen, and sighs defeatedly.

“Crap. You’re right.”

“It’s okay, we’ll do it right. You’ve gotten this kid this far, and I’m pretty confident in my skills. Let’s get ready.”

***

As Jo scrubs her hands after surgery, it occurs to her.

“I still don’t know your name.”

“Doctor Alex Karev, pediatric general surgeon. But you knew that. And yours?”

“Doctor Jo Wilson. General surgeon and research fellow. But you knew that.”

Alex smiles, and it makes her smile back. He has a ruggish look, almost hardened that attracts her.

“Your whole motivational thing helped. Thanks. I didn’t mean to be an ass in the there; still working on that. I’ve been an ass my whole life, and I revert when I’m stressed.”

“It’s okay, I kick and scream when I’m stressed too. Maybe we should both work on our coping mechanisms. Make a switch to ortho?” Jo can’t help her cheeky grin.

“Oh yeah, definitely. Let’s get right on that.” Alex’s eyes widen as he says it, and his grin soon matches her. Jo studies his face for another moment, before her pager goes off again.

“I have to go. It was nice meeting you Doctor Karev.”

“You too, Doctor Wilson.”

Jo leaves the scrub room, feeling lighter in her step as she walks toward her lab. Her elation even leads her to believe that Cross will have gotten the correct tests. She turns the corner.

“Doctor Wilson, these results look weird to me.”

Cross hands her the paper, and Jo feels her heart rate speed up as she reads it.

“Why the hell is her white count so low? Mouse number three I mean,” She trails over to the mouse, not looking up.

“Doctor Cross, did you or Doctor Rayn notice this mouse looking sickly? Maybe she’s got an existing illness?”

“It’s a mouse.” Cross says.

“Yes, I know that. What I’m saying is that if she doesn’t, this means that this treatment won’t work. This research is basically useless.” Jo gapes sadly at the mouse. Her stomach sinks and her chest hurts.

“Please, go run white counts again on all the mice. And test them all for anything weird. Consult a veterinarian if you have to, just find out if there’s something wrong with my mouse. Find Rayn to help you.”

“Got it. I hope she’s alright; it had been going so well.” Cross looks down, the air in the room feeling heavy.

“I know. So go get those work ups done.”

Once her resident is gone, Jo takes a seat at a lab table for a moment, before deciding that what she really needs is a lunch break.

***

“That looks absolutely disgusting.” Jo feels like she might throw up looking at her friend, Doctor Atticus Lincoln’s lunch.

“She’s right Link, that looks like it was burnt, thrown in a dumpster and harassed by a koala.” This comes from Amelia Shepherd, Atticus’ longtime girlfriend and recently— fiancée.

“Well, I’m going to it eat it. And neither of you,” He looks between the two women, “Can stop me.” And with that, he shoves a bite of meatloaf into his mouth.

“Oh god,” Jo squeezes her eyes shut, and shoves a bite of salad into her own mouth to wash away the second-hand disgusting that she feels.

Amelia goes unbothered, instead becoming interested in Jo.

“So, have you found any new friends. Better than this loser; a boyfriend, or perhaps a very lucky man in a bar? There’s one right here, no discount, but the owner probably knows more about us doctors and nurses than we do.”

“Maybe, no, and definitely not.”

“Oh well that’s boring. Who’s your friend?”

“Doctor Karev. We didn’t speak all that much, and I wouldn’t call him a friend yet, but he seems nice, and we clicked.”

“Oh he’s like a rugged hot right? Not my type, but good looking,” She then turns to Link, “The one with the crazy wife, right?”

Link looks up innocently from his meatloaf, “You think everyone is crazy. She’s normal to me.”

“Okay...he’s normal though? Safe to be around?”

Amelia laughs, “She’s not dangerous. She is crazy though, crazier than me; and that’s saying something. She’s charming to some, but I wouldn’t marry her, if you know what I mean.”

Link adds, “She’s nice though.”

“Sunshine-y like my fiancé here.”

Jo nods.

“So no crazies, right Link? They’re both normal people?”

Link glances at Amelia, “Amelia only hates her because she believes she should’ve been kicked out of the program for something she did as an intern. It’s not my story to tell, but it was kind of crazy. The whole thing.”

Jo smiles, “Okay, then I might just have a new friend.”

***

“Doctor Wilson! So this is your lab. It’s very organized. It also reeks like med school.”

“Not much worse than ORs get, Doctor Karev.” Jo smiles to herself.

“A hundred percent. Can I ask what you’re working on, oh wise research fellow?” Alex walks over to Jo and the mice, studying them.

“A cure for cancer. In the long run, that’s the goal. This is just phase testing, still on mice. Right now, me and my team are studying a whole bunch of boring crap to get to the fun stuff. It’s just me, two residents, a couple of biomed engineers and some mice.”

“That’s a big goal. And kind of an incredible one. How did you get the grant money?”

“The chief of surgery wrote a personal check. She was inspired by my work at Hopkins, in residency, and I gave up my minimally invasive fellowship at Mass Gen to come here.”

“Wow, someone’s got expensive taste. Family money?”

“What, no? Brain power. I was a foster kid, but I’m just ridiculously smart. You probably couldn’t comprehend half of what I do here.” Jo teases, grinning.

“Oh yeah, I’m just really stupid. But hey, I was a foster kid too. On and off.”

“Oh yeah, any good homes?”

“One. The rest were all crap.”

“Mine were all crap. Every single one. But life goes on. You have to get past it, or it’ll sink you.”

“Wow that’s deep. Real insightful.” Alex deadpans. Jo rolls her eyes.

“Shut up! It’s what my therapist taught me when I was in my early years of med school. That’s what happens when you’re messed up in the head.”

“Hey, at least you have your self-proclaimed ridiculous smarts, I just have messed up.” Alex cracks, as Jo tinkers with a tool.

“Ever been to therapy?” She asks hesitantly.

“No.”

“It’s horrible. I threw up every time, and I think it made me worse. But then it made me better.” She puts the tool down and faces Alex.

“Good, I’m glad.” Alex smirks sideways for a moment, and Jo can’t help but smile back. Then, after a beat, Jo works up courage.

“So I heard you have a wife. What’s she like? You can’t be that messed up if you have a wife.”

“Uh yeah. She’s a doctor, an oncologist. She pops in here often, she did a surgical residency. Doctor Izzie Stevens.”

“Oh. I’ve seen her around; talked to her this morning. She’s very nice, pretty too.” Jo compliments.

“Yeah, she’s great. What about you, anyone special? Husband, girlfriend, dog?”

Jo laughs, “Just me right now. New city, cross country move, you know?”

Alex nods, “Gotcha. Anyone you had to leave back home? Personally I ran from where I grew up, but some people have a hard time letting go.”

Jo bites her lip, “No, not from Maryland. I’ve ran before, but not from there.” Her voice is quieter and she seems to shrink into herself.

“Oh. Well that’s nice, I guess.”

“Yeah. No running anymore. Seattle is growing on me. I like that rain.”

Alex smiles.

[local-femme-gentleman]

10 things I’ve watched in the quarantine (so far)

1. Dazed and Confused 1993 ‧ Comedy/Indie film ‧ 1h 43m

So, I kicked off the apocalypse lockdown with Dazed and Confused - and yes, even though the movie made me realise I was going to have to survive literal months without my usual amount of marijuana consumption, it also filed me with that warped sense of nostalgia and longing for a bygone era that Dazed and Confused always leaves me with - especially a deep yearning for seventies music because the soundtrack of this movie may be one of its best aspects. It is equal parts kinda stupid, ridiculously fun, and wholly introspective, and at the end of the day I love this movie for helping me see what my boomer parents - and their whole generation - were like as teenagers more than anything else.

2. 2001: A Space Odyssey 1968 ‧ Sci-fi/Adventure ‧ 2h 44m

2001: A Space Odyssey has since its release become an absolute classic, and I for one adore it to absolute death. This was one of the first ‘adult’ movies I watched, I was 11 years old at the time - and although I didn’t understand it then, and frankly got a little bored, revisiting it now (after having rewatched it many many many times, and as a slightly older, well, kid) I’ve come to absolutely love it. I personally was looking for some slightly longer movies for the lockdown - considering I have more than enough time, and if you are too then this one may be just what you’re looking for - even if you’ve seen it already. There’s always more to discover in a movie like this one.

3. Okja 2017 ‧ Adventure/Drama ‧ 2 hours

Of all the movies on this list this may be the one I recommend the least. Not because it’s a bad movie, because it honestly and truly isn’t ( Bong Joon Ho still definitely came through for this one), however, this movie is, in my opinion, far too heartbreaking for this exact moment in time. If it was any other period in history I would be overwhelmingly promoting this movie, because I honestly and truly loved it - but it made me want to give up meat in a period of time where I simply do not have the resources for that to be an option. So if you’re down with your day just getting a little bit sadder, albeit in a not entirely bad way, I’d say watch Okja - if not, then I’d say, just for now, maybe stay away.

4. Spirited Away 2001 ‧ Animation/Fantasy ‧ 2h 5m

Okay, I love this movie, my parents love this movie, your parents love this movie, your sister loves this movie, your best friend loves this movie, you’re-cousin’s-nephew’s-dog’s-best-friend’s-owner loves this movie - and, if you don’t love this movie, well, each to their own but you’re kind of a monster. Spirited Away is one of those universally agreed upon masterpieces, everything about this movie just makes you feel good, from the colours, to the world, to the characters, to the animation. Spirited Away wraps you up in a blanket of all things warm and comforting in this world - if you’re looking to just feel better, which given current situations you probably are, this is the one for you.

5. Before Sunrise 1995 ‧ Romance/Drama ‧ 1h 45m

I’ve always loved this trilogy, yes, it may be one of the most teenage girl things to ever exist, the ultimate teenage girl fantasy, but what’s wrong with that? Before Sunrise, at every watch and rewatch, makes me want to meet a stranger on a train and just wander somewhere in europe for a single night. I’m fairly sure this will never happen, but this is the perfect time for daydreaming and so I will. Honestly, this movie truly is good, the amount of angles explored in Jesse and Celine’s still forming relationship over a single night is fascinating and it’s a very pretty film. If you’re just looking for something light and easy to watch - that gets you just the right amount of emotional, this is the one for you.

6. The Royal Tenenbaums 2001 ‧ Drama/Comedy-drama ‧ 1h 50m

Oh so you thought I’d go one recommendations video without mentioning Wes? Ha. Okay look, The Royal Tenenbaums is probably my fifth favorite Wes movie, but considering I love basically every Wes Anderson movie that isn’t not saying much. The Tenenbaum siblings stand as some of my favorite Wes Anderson characters and I love Angelica Houston no matter who she plays. The Royal Tenenbaums is just a good Wes Anderson film, and you get exactly what you’d want and expect from it - whip pans, impeccable wardrobes, symmetrical shots, a Wilson Brother, a sugary colour pallette, the futura font, and rich white people, well, being rich white people

7. American Vandal 2017 ‧ Satire ‧ 2 seasons

Ok I’ll say it, this is the perfect quarantine show. It’s completely stupid in the smartest way possible, absurdly funny, and overall one of the best shows netflix has ever produced. If you’re looking for a laugh, and I know I was when I clicked on this, then this is the one for you. American Vandal is satire at its peak - and I can officially say that both seasons hold up at a third rewatch, because yes, I’ve watched this entire show three times over. If you like true-crime series, or The Office and Parks and Rec (and yes I see the disparity in genre) then you will absolutely adore American vandal - and the fact that this show didn’t get a third season is a whole tragedy. Shame on you Netflix, shame on you.

8. Marriage Story 2019 ‧ Comedy-drama/Drama ‧ 2h 17m

Again, considering current times Marriage Story may have not been the best choice, but hey, I love this movie, and as sad as it makes me, it also makes me incredibly happy in a bittersweet sort of way. The good thing about marriage story is that it’s one of those films you truly get lost in, when I watched it just a few days ago, I truly and honestly, for just those few moments, forgot about everything going on right now, and - i say this at a risk of sounding selfish, I know - it felt good. Marriage Story is by far one of my favorite movies of last year, the writing is gorgeous, the editing is genius, and although the movie isn’t intrinsically happy in nature, it may just be what you need right now.

9. Every John Mulaney Special New in Town ‧ The Comeback Kid ‧ Kid Gorgeous ‧ etc.

So I, in true Gen-Z fashion, have watched every John Mulaney Comedy Special  many many times. I love these specials, they truly mean quite a bit to me. I like playing these in the back while I do other things like cleaning my room or cooking. I think I watched him so much  that his voice has become almost comforting - I may have formed a bit of an attachment. Chances are you’ve probably seen at least one John Mulaney Special, if you’ve only seen one watch the rest! And if you’ve seen the all then rewatch like I did! For me, this is the perfect time to just watch some good standup, so even if it isn’t John, just watch a comedian who makes you happy - trust me, it’ll help.

10. Tangled 2010 ‧ Animation/Musical ‧ 1h 40m

Ok so honestly my friends put this on together on Netflix Party to watch that first song and get some self-quarantine ideas - but then we just watched the whole movie so, yeah. I do love Tangled though, it was one of my favourite Disney movies as a kid, granted I’ve always been more of a Pixar girl (speaking of which this is the best time to binge on Pixar movies!!!!). Honestly, this is just a solid disney movie, it’s cute, it’s adorably animated, I properly adore Pascal and Maximus because no matter how old I get I will always adore a fun animal sidekick. Honestly, now is just a good time to watch a good disney movie, I had fun with this movie okay, no lie it was great.

[imhereforbvcky]

Team Re-Building - Part 2 (end)

Summary: (Sam Wilson x reader, FalconCap humor/fluff) After the events of EndGame, the remaining Avengers head out on a mandatory team building exercise at your cattle ranch. The week turns out as unexpected for you as the idea was for them. (Part 1)

Prompt/Request: “Is that a horse?! Do I look like a cowboy to you?” For mine and @justsomebucky’s Cap² Challenge. I separated the prompt a little for flow, but I think I kept the spirit of it.

Warnings: None. Probably swearing. I’ve got a mouth and I can’t control it.

Word Count: 2471

“Alright,” you smiled up at Sam slowing to a stop on a ridge. Your herd of hearty western cattle stood below, dark specks still as stone in the sea of pale green and soft brown winter prairie.

Sam took a deep sigh and let it out in a quick puff through pursed lips. “So this is the job, huh?”

“Not so bad, right?”

“Definitely seen worse.” He grinned as he said it, turning to you in the bright mid-day sun.

That damn smile again. It had the heat creeping up your cheeks. You turned your head, pretending to check a strap on your saddle to hide it.

You heard his laugh, more of a soft chuckle. Apparently, you weren’t very discrete after all. It seemed, though, that Sam enjoyed this little game even more than you did. The little glances, the smiles, moving a little closer every now and again. You’d bet the barn he was doing it on purpose: making you squirm like that.

“You’re calling the shots, I take it?”

He nodded, looking over the valley as the others circled the area, pushing the cattle into a tighter herd at your staff’s encouragement.

“Well, before the real work begins…”

Sam raised his eyebrows with a slow grin as you pulled a bottle of whiskey out of your saddlebag.

“Don’t judge me,” you defended. “I know I’ve earned it. Getting you comfortable in a saddle, city-Sam.”

He laughed, rich and sweet. The sound tangled in your ears with the creaking of leather as you leaned in your saddle to pass the bottle. You and your horse moved as one most of the time and she took it as a cue to side-step.

The movement pushed your hand into Sam’s and god, just that simple brush of skin was enough to light a fire somewhere deep in the center of your spine. The flames licked up your neck while the smile on your face froze at the unexpected contact and turned to something soft, nervous and brimming with anticipation.

You felt Sam’s eyes skim over your face, deep and burning like a canyon at sunset. The air clung to your skin, like even it dared not move.

The sharp pop of a whip down below finally cracked through the moment and it was gone as unexpectedly as it had come.

Sam looked alarmed, eyes darting around the perimeter of the clearing, while yours simply scanned the loose corner of the herd where one of the ranch hands was urging an eager bull back into the fold.

“It’s just a whip, Sam.” Your voice was soft and he was glad.

“I thought it was…” he shook his head, half a smile on his lips, and half a frown in his eyes. “It sounded like a handgun.”

“Not that kind of job.” You tipped the bottle toward him again, a small sympathetic smile on your lips. While gunfire was far from a rarity here, it didn’t carry the same meaning it did for Sam. It didn’t mean a fight or a mission. It was a part of life for you both, but yours, you realized, was far more sedate thanks to Sam and the others riding out over your land that day.

This time he took the bottle and scowled at the label.

“Thought I was calling the shots.”

You laughed, reaching into your pocket for a tiny flask. “Fine. You want the good stuff; you gotta earn it out there.”

“Alright, let’s do this.” The words were a damp growl after the stiff sip of locally distilled bourbon.

Together you talked through the positions and the skills of his teammates.

“I’d set your best rider behind, someone to chase down stragglers—“

“Clint,” Sam decided without hesitation. “He’s got a good eye. He’ll take the high ground.”

“Good,” you nodded your agreement.

The others fell into positions easily, and you began driving the cattle up toward fresh pasture. With a signal from Sam, Bruce opened the hatch of the pick-up truck and 3 speckled cattle dogs lept out, barking and racing. They would do the leg-work, circling the herd and keeping a tight migration up to the cooler edge of the peaks, just breaking with green spring grass.

Sam ranged up and down the side of the group, watching, calling orders, drawing the group and the job into a cohesive unit. They moved as one, cutting across the fields like the shadow of a cloud.

Soon enough the team settled into the work, into their roles and their familiarity with each other. Sam was a natural leader and there was comfort in that. It allowed the others the freedom to do what they needed to do. He made it easy and it wasn’t long before they’d begun shouting jabs at each other.

“Rhodes that calf’s gonna make a run for it!” Bruce called over the roar of the diesel engine in which he rode. He pointed over the cab of the truck. “Ah it’s too late,” he laughed, waving a dismissive hand through the air as James tried to encourage his horse into a faster pace to head off the little cow. “It’s too late, man.”

Clint, slightly bored bringing up the rear on his own, had stopped to fashion himself a slingshot and had taken to firing pebbles at the back of Bucky’s neck. Wanda couldn’t stop giggling at the irritation rising pink in his cheeks, along with a smirk and a shake of his head. Clint knew he was going to wake up with his boots full of manure or his clothes in the creek. Worth the risk, he’d decided.

“That your cousin?” Bucky called, looking over his shoulder at Sam with a wicked grin. He pointed a glimmering metal hand up into the sky at the large bird circling the top of the hill.

“Hilarious,” Sam rolled his eyes. You, however, pulled the binoculars hanging at your chest up to your eyes.

“Sorry, soldier,” you hollered with a wink toward Sam, “Falcons stick to the canyon around here. That’s a Cooper’s Hawk.”

“Clint, that’s you!” Wanda shouted happily; turning almost completely around, hand on the back of her saddle.

Just as Clint looked over, the raptor soared for only a moment longer before pitching downward. It dove for a prairie dog at a shocking pace. Unsuccessful.

“Faceplant out of a tree,” Rhodes chuckled. “Yeah, that’s a Clint move.”

The ribbing continued until you’d urged the cattle up the hills under the slender, bone-white trunks of an aspen grove. Green shimmering leaves had just begun to sprout and the river bubbled its soft laugh nearby. It was a perfect spot to set up camp for the night. The Avengers had done well, but unused to full days riding; they’d need to find their sea-legs again.

“Oh damn,” Sam complained, half groan, half sigh. He waddled toward the warmth of the fire. “Now I know why everybody in those old westerns walked like they just got their asses beat. Literally.”

You laughed, hard. “You a little saddle sore?”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Bucky interjected, handing over a sleeve of re-hydrated rice and beef. Dinner on the trail.

“I don’t have the energy to explain how the birds and the bees work right now, Bucky. Use your imagination.”

You enjoyed Sam’s company a lot. You also really enjoyed the way he interacted with each of his team members. He was a chameleon. He seemed to sense what everyone needed and adapt accordingly. Bucky needed to not be handled with kid gloves, to be treated normally. Their unending banter was as much a defining feature of their friendship, as it was a credit to Sam’s perceptiveness and ability to meet his friends where they needed it.

A natural leader even when he wasn’t trying.

The full days ride in the long summer sun had thoroughly worn out your guests and your staff alike. They had retired into the safety of their tents, tucked into warm synthetic down sleeping bags rolled out over top of the line sleeping pads.

You, however, were never one for tents. This land was your home and you felt no need to hide from it.

When you heard the soft shuffle of feet on the packed grass and dirt, you turned your head from its place on your bent forearm.

“Mind if I join you?” Sam asked quietly, hovering at the edge of the fading firelight.

“Is everything alright with your sleeping arrangements?” you asked, pushing up onto your elbows and preparing to accommodate your guest. This was a business, after all. “Can I get you somethi—“

“No! No.” He was quick to dispel your worries. “You’ve been—Everything’s great.”

You nodded and waited, stretching back out onto your deep green wool blanket. It had been in your family for generations, had spread under these stars for countless nights.

“I just uh,” he paused, scratching the back of his neck and stepping closer. “I did two tours, and then all this. The Avengers thing.  You get used to sleeping with your head on a rock and it’s hard to go back. Sometimes you start to think you shouldn’t get too comfortable, you know?”

You chewed on the inside of your lip and nodded. You didn’t know. His experience was unique, certainly a world away from your own. But a life spent out here, with just the sound of the wind in the grass and the crash of thunder off the mountains, you’d become a good listener.

“Well,” you answered slowly, patting the clay-hardened earth beside you. “There are plenty of rocks around here.”

He grinned. It was a new one for you, and it warmed you from the inside out. Just a simple tip of his lips to one side, a brightening of the glint in his eyes and you were closing your own, memorizing it and willing yourself to breathe.

He settled himself next to you, mimicking your posture and hooking a thickly chiseled arm behind his head. The heat of his skin burned warmer than the fire as his free arm pressed against yours from shoulder to fingertip. Well your fingertips, anyway.

“What are you doin’ out here?” he asked, turning up onto his side to fix you with a steady gaze.

It took you a moment to figure out how words worked again.

“I uh,” You shrugged. “I like it.”

His laugh was full and soft at the same time. You continued to marvel at the depth of mirth that spilled out of this man. He was a well of warmth and kindness, like that old familiar blanket that you always want to wrap around your shoulders and fall asleep under, safe and content.

“You pretty much do exactly what you want, don’t you?” he asked, smile pulling his full lips wide and tight. His eyes, though, were serious, slightly narrowed while he studied you in the dying firelight.

“Pretty much,” you chuckled, repeating his words back, hardly able to hold a conversation under that look.

Your entire body was drawn to it. You turned onto your side to face him full on, curling your knees to steady yourself. It was all in the eyes for you. God you could watch them all day, but here, in the firelight, it was like staring at a beach just after sunset: warm and dark and shimmering with something golden. He was like the familiar comfort of soft worn leather, and he smelled of it after a day’s ride. What you wouldn’t give to have his arms around you.

“You know you have that power now too, right?” you asked quietly. “You’re giving the orders now, Captain.” You smiled because it wasn’t really your place. Your job here was to help people see their own potential, find their role among their group. Be it a family, a business, or, in the oddest of cases, the Avengers. But lying side by side under the stars wasn’t exactly in the list of services either. This wasn’t business, this was personal.

“I know.” Sam took in a slow deep breath and let it out between pursed lips. “Doesn’t quite feel like it yet.”

“You know, this place was supposed to go to my older brother?” you asked. It was rhetorical of course, so Sam just listened, watching the bittersweet smile tug over your lips. “That’s how it goes out here. Traditions have a way of stickin’. Anyway. He went to the stock show in the city. Got one look at what could’ve been and knew that was what he wanted. He never looked back.”

Sam’s large hand smoothed over your arm before it came to rest curling through your fingers. “That must have been challenging.”

You shrugged. “Not everybody understands it. His decision,” you explained. “But it was his to make. And now this is mine. And I don’t carry his or anyone else’s decisions around on my back.”

You squeezed his hand when he nodded, letting his eyes fall.

“And that shield?” you urged. “That’s yours.”

“You’re damn right it is,” Sam grinned, curling your joined hands up to his chest. Your heart stuttered with the warmth and the intimacy of the act. It was like he’d pulled you closer body and soul. You barely knew him but you were hooked.

“So when you get home,” You ducked your head to kiss his knuckles and curl closer. “…you tell that Mission Coordinator of yours that as great this week has been, your team is never getting on horseback again!”

His laughter was a welcome sound, and a soft shudder in your own rib-cage.

Two weeks later, the team had been training together like a well-oiled machine at the compound and Maria couldn’t be more proud of herself for her obscure choice of team building exercise.

Like every other morning that summer, after a long run in the mid-summer heat, the east-coast humidity stuck to Sam like a second skin. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, fanning himself lightly with it as he jogged up the steps to his townhome.

He frowned down at the little package on the stoop, and picked it up. He hadn’t been expecting anything, but when he saw flying K brand stamped in heavy black ink over the seam, he grinned and took a seat right there in the sun.

Inside the box he found a small bottle of whiskey from a distillery nestled into the same valley as your ranch. He’d bet his wings it was the same as had been in your little pocket flask, and he laughed at the memory. The note tied to the neck of the bottle read:

“A shot for the guy calling all the shots. Give ‘em hell, Cap.”

Will reblog with tags when I get a minute today.

[nerianasims]

Billboard #1s 1974

Under the cut.

Steve Miller Band – “The Joker” -- January 12, 1974

It always throws me when I remember how old this song is. Two years older than me, and yet I associate it with my own mid-20s partying. Okay, my "partying" was pretty mild. One of the things my friends and I often did was go to a dueling piano (really keyboard) bar, and they always played this song. I can taste the rum and Coke now. We had tipsy discussions about what "pompatus" meant. A guy tried to pick one of my friends up with "really love your peaches." Anyway, I love this song, but it's also so embedded into my life that I can't judge it fairly.

Al Wilson – “Show And Tell” -- January 19, 1974

1970s Philly R&B is great music. This is a pretty typical example of the genre; lots of strings, lots of horns, an adult with a voice he uses like an instrument to impart strong emotions. It's a love song, and the lyrics aren't anything spectacular, but they do the job. Very good.

Ringo Starr – “You’re Sixteen” -- January 26, 1974

GAH. Next!

Barbra Streisand – “The Way We Were” -- February 2, 1974

I was tempted to write, "GAH. Next!" here too, but I'm determined to save that kind of thing for songs that have elements to them that I don't want to discuss because of moral issues. That's not this. The problem is: I hate Barbra Streisand. Or I should say I hate her singing; though from what I've seen of her personality, I don't like that either. Every song she sings, she sounds like she's singing to the glory of the greatness of the only person who matters to her in the world: Barbra Streisand. I once read an article that called her singing "masturbatory," but that's not strong enough. It's full-on self-worship. I hate it.

The Love Unlimited Orchestra – “Love’s Theme” -- February 9, 1974

This is Barry White's orchestra, but sadly it's an instrumental, without his glorious voice. It reminds me so much of the Love Boat theme that now I'm wanting to watch it. Absolute kitsch, but as kitsch goes, there's worse.

Terry Jacks – “Seasons In The Sun” -- March 2, 1974

The singer is dying and saying goodbye to everyone. That kind of sentiment may be made to work in pop, I suppose, but I've never heard it done. It belongs in opera. This is schmaltz.

Cher – “Dark Lady” -- March 23, 1974

As one of only a couple dark-haired dark-eyed girls in my quite blonde high school graduating class, people used to call me "exotic." Apparently my high cheekbones had something to do with it too. I was asked where my family was from pretty regularly. I wasn't offended --  more bemused. The answer is "Europe," though I guess the dark hair and eyes are probably by way of France. It's rather tough to say, considering my mother's side of the family has been here since the 16th century (indentured servants), and were not the rich types who stuck to their own ethnicity. Anyway, this is to say that I feel some kinship with Cher, and how drawn she was to songs like "Dark Lady." Though in this case, the "dark lady" is someone Cher's character murders for cheating with her boyfriend. She kills the boyfriend too.

This song is dated ("gypsy music") Las Vegas cheese, and yet I like it. It's wildly melodramatic and fun.

John Denver – “Sunshine On My Shoulders” -- March 30, 1974

Bleeeeeh. I like big melodramatic songs. This is the opposite. Now, I do like small, sweet songs often too. But I just can't with this one. It's too slow, too simple, and feels aggressively, shallowly cheery.

Blue Swede – “Hooked On A Feeling” -- April 6, 1974

I learned from the Todd in the Shadows video about this song that its stupid "ooga chaka" thing was inspired by 1960's "Running Bear." Now I hate it even more! The original of this song is a nice, simple love song. Blue Swede made it shouty and dumb.

Elton John – “Bennie And The Jets” -- April 13, 1974

It's Elton John. Therefore I don't like it. I feel like it's too slow maybe? I feel like most of Elton John's songs are too slow maybe. I don't know. I'm bored.

MFSB & The Three Degrees’ “TSOP (The Sound Of Philadelphia)” -- April 20, 1974

An instrumental disco track. It is one I find danceable, so there's that. Not bad.

Grand Funk – “The Loco-Motion” -- May 4, 1974

A rock cover of The Loco-Motion. Sure, why not. Though this version is not very good. It feels like they slowed it down, and they definitely made it extremely loud. I don't really see a reason for this song to exist.

Ray Stevens – “The Streak” -- May 18, 1974

Streaking was a fad in 1974. This is a comedy song about it. I had never heard it before this, and I hope never to again. It's deeply dumb.

Paul McCartney & Wings – “Band On The Run” -- June 8, 1974

The wee-oo-wee-oo-wee-oo thing at the beginning of the song sounds neat, but then it goes on too long. That's my feeling about this entire song: It goes on too long. It does change up substantially multiple times throughout, but it's no Bohemian Rhapsody. Bohemian Rhapsody is, imo, perfect. The pacing of "Band on the Run," otoh, is a mess. The second section needs to be a lot longer and the final section needs to be a lot shorter. Paul McCartney needed an editor for this.

Bo Donaldson And The Heywoods – “Billy, Don’t Be A Hero” -- June 15, 1974

A young woman tells her boyfriend to not "be a hero" when he goes off to war (probably the Civil War.) Because she wants him to come home alive. As anyone who knows this kind of song can predict, he decides to be a hero and dies. Cliche and weirdly bouncy for the subject matter. Still, at least songs were acknowledging that dying in war was not a great thing. Unlike the putrescent "Ballad of the Green Berets."

Gordon Lightfoot – “Sundown” -- June 29, 1974

The singer is jealously obsessed with a woman. He knows this isn't a good thing, but he doesn't seem able to -- or be trying to -- move past it. This is about something real; Gordon Lightfoot was obsessively, violently jealous over Cathy Smith, the woman who was later convicted for injecting John Belushi with the heroin that killed him. The lyrics are mean, but the music doesn't go hard at all. Except, compared to the rest of the stuff I've looked at for 1974 so far, the music does sound a lot harder -- it's minor key and there's a distinct bassline. It still feels like a mismatch.

The Hues Corporation – “Rock The Boat” -- July 6, 1974

A disco song I can dance to some. Not entirely. It's a song asking you not to "rock the boat" of your perfect love with the singer. It's incredibly schmaltzy -- schmaltzy disco. Ugh.

George McCrae – “Rock Your Baby” -- July 13, 1974

The singer is telling you, "woman," to take him in your arms and rock him. I.e. fuck him. I have perfect pitch. George McCrae is no Ella Fitzgerald. When he goes to the high note, he does not hit it right, and it's like nails on a chalkboard. I can't listen to this song all the way through.

John Denver – “Annie’s Song” -- July 27, 1974

Ugh, 1974. This is a simplistic love song to John Denver's wife. Not just simple, which is fine, but simplistic, which is not. They divorced years later, and Denver became violent during it. (Denver's the one who brought that to light and he obviously felt terrible about it.) The Stereogum guy was shocked by this. I'm not. For one, celebrity is horrible for people. For another, I can't think of any of Denver's songs that have depth or complexity. Trying to live at the surface is also horrible for people. I do like a lot of simple love songs, but John Denver's songs have always made me go "ick," even when I was a child. I feel like there's nothing in them.

Roberta Flack – “Feel Like Makin’ Love” -- August 10, 1974

The music to this song, with the calm but interesting percussion and romantic guitar, combined with Roberta Flack's whispery vocals, is lovely. It gives me asmr feels and makes me want to lie down and drift off to sleep. So, uh. Not exactly what I consider a sexy song. I do like listening to it, as it's nice and calming, but I don't think that was the intent.

Paper Lace – “The Night Chicago Died” -- August 17, 1974

And I will definitely need some relaxation after this garbage. Okay so, this travesty was by Brits who: 1) Thought there was an East Side of Chicago. That's Lake Michigan. 2) Thought it would be cute to write a song in which Al Capone tried to literally take over Chicago by killing all the cops (he bribed cops, he didn't kill them, and he was a criminal, not an insurrectionary.) 3) Sing "glory be" because they obviously think that's a super American thing to do. "In the land of the dollar bill." WHAT? This song makes me want to punt Paper Lace into the East Side of Chicago.

Paul Anka – “(You’re) Having My Baby” -- August 24, 1974

Notoriously one of the worst pop songs ever. The singer thinks "you" (that makes it worse) are having his baby solely and only because you love him. Monumental narcissism, just completely heinous, plus it's musical glop.

Eric Clapton – “I Shot The Sheriff” -- September 14, 1974

This is not Bob Marley's version. Bob Marley's version is so much better, and it's the one I've heard a lot, so when I turned this one on I was confused for a second.

Barry White – “Can’t Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe” -- September 21, 1974

Oh thank god. Barry White is one of my favorite singers, and this is one of my favorite songs. This is a sexy love song by a great artist.

Andy Kim – “Rock Me Gently” -- September 28, 1974

Andy Kim's voice sounds incredibly mid-70s. What's with men asking their lovers to rock them this year? The chorus is pretty good, and has a real beat. He's asking his lover to be gentle, and "I have never been loved like this before." That's nice. It's cheese, but it's fine.

Olivia Newton-John – “I Honestly Love You” -- October 5, 1974

A lot of the time when someone says they "honestly" something without prompting, they're lying. So this song sounds weird to me. "I love you/ I honestly love you" -- um, you sure about that? Though the singer has no reason to pretend she loves the person she's singing to, and every reason not to, since they're both with someone else. She just wants to tell you she loves you and leave it at that. Yeah, that's likely. Olivia Newton-John is a good singer, and she's especially good at acting a song. I feel she should have been on Broadway. In any case, while this is a slow soft song in an era with way too many of those, it's one of the better ones. It's not overly slow or particularly goopy.

Billy Preston – “Nothing From Nothing” -- October 19, 1974

If there's such a thing as vaudeville rock, this is it. He doesn't want to be your hero or your highness, so it sounds like he wants an equal relationship. He also says "I'm a soldier in the war on poverty," which makes it sounds like he's saying you have to have money if you want to get with him, but maybe not. He sings "you gotta bring a little something, girl, if you want to be with me," which may or may not be monetary. It's bouncy and all, but Billy Preston's done better.

Dionne Warwick & The Spinners – “Then Came You” -- October 26, 1974

A song about finally finding love. Plenty of good orchestration, a good beat, and of course Dionne Warwick's voice. I like it.

Stevie Wonder – “You Haven’t Done Nothin'” -- November 2, 1974

The "you" in this song is Richard Nixon. Stevie Wonder is one of the most love everyone, let's all come together artists in existence. But here, he was angry. "We would not care to wake up to the nightmare/ That's becoming real life/ But when misled who knows a person's mind/ Can turn as cold as ice." The Republican Party is still Nixon's party -- they love him almost as much as they do Reagan. This song is funky and good and the only reason I don't feel it more is that it's not angry enough.

Bachman-Turner Overdrive – “You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet” -- November 9, 1974

They were goofing around in the studio, and lead singer Randy Bachman wanted to make fun of his brother's stutter. When this song became a hit, Randy was mortified. But even with nasty, juvenile intentions behind it, this song is good. It also sounds happy and not mean at all. It's a rather silly song about first experiencing sex, and it's fun.

John Lennon – “Whatever Gets You Thru The Night” -- November 16, 1974

John Lennon's voice was always kinda nasal, but it's really nasal on this song. Anyway, this song may as well be called "you do you." It's a song that in theory I should not find boring, but in practice I do. I have finally found out why: Elton John helped him with it. It sounds very Elton John-ish. Which means I don't really have anything else to say.

Billy Swan – “I Can Help” -- November 23, 1974

Some old-fashioned rockability is a nice change. The singer sees that the woman needs some help, so "let me help." "I got two strong arms/ Let me help." I immediately think of a romance between a farmhand and a widow woman. "It would sure do me good to do you good." That's a pretty concise description of love. Billy Swain's voice is kinda thin; Elvis did a cover of this, and it's a lot better. Billy Swain's version is sweet and all, but Elvis' is irresistible.

Carl Douglas – “Kung Fu Fighting” -- December 7, 1974

This isn't a song about actual kung fu; it's about kung fu movies. It's a fanboy telling you all about the cool movie he just saw, though not telling you a thing about the plot. Just the "expert timing" and stuff. Trying to analyze "Kung Fu Fighting" feels really silly. It's a rare enjoyable novelty song by an actual musician.

Harry Chapin – “Cat’s In The Cradle” -- December 21, 1974

A cover of this song by Ugly Kid Joe became a hit in 1992. And it was massively overplayed, so I hate this song. This father/son stuff bores me anyway, speaking of overplayed.

Helen Reddy – “Angie Baby” -- December 28, 1974

This song is deeply strange, which is a mark in its favor. It's a story song about a girl who has no friends and had to be taken out of school because she's "a little touched." She lives in a world of make-believe, listening to the radio all the time. A neighbor boy comes along to rape her. But as soon as he walks into her room... "Toward the radio he's bound/ Never to be found." He becomes her "secret lover," trapped in the radio. "It's so nice to be insane/ No one asks you to explain." Is Angie really "insane," or is she a sorceress whose rock n' roll powers everyone looks away from? Both? I'm not sure what I think of this song, but it is interesting, and that's always good.

BEST OF 1974 -- "Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe" by Barry White WORST OF 1974 -- "(You're) Having My Baby" by Paul Anka

[tessatechaitea]

Justice Society of America #10 (1993)

Fact: Golden Age heroes didn't have penises.

I was starfished on my bedroom floor tonight staring at the ceiling and thinking about how in my teens and twenties, I could revel in it, thinking, "Who am I? Who will I become? What does life have in store for me?" But a grown ass man doing that simply thinks, "This is it, isn't it?" At least I can lose myself in reading comic books I've already read and which I didn't really enjoy that much the first time. It might sound like a waste of time but it gives my life meaning! The most shallow of meanings, sure. But at least I'm not growing old watching conservative news because I need anything at all to light my passion. I'll say this about Fox News: they understand how old people are so bored they'll watch the dumbest shit and then get mad about it. I know other people who aren't old also watch Fox News. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with them. I guess they have fears and hatreds I hope I'll never truly understand. I just don't understand watching Fox News (or any of the other non-propaganda 24 hour news sites). People do understand there are channels which show programs that make you laugh or feel merry or that simply entertain the other non-lizard parts of your brain, right? How do you pick Fox News when you can watch Sci-fi or Buzzr Comedy Central or the Ru-Paul's Drag Race all day channel? I just realized that the people who watch Fox News basically use Twitter the same way. The majority of my feed are funny people so even when they're discussing politics, it's always entertaining (or fiercely intelligent because witty people are smart. Dumb people think they're witty (see Mike Huckabee)). But when I check out the Twitter feeds of conservatives I know, at best they'll retweet a sports tweet sandwiched between forty retweets of Ben Shapiro and Dinesh Souza. Maybe they think some of the right wing pundits they follow are funny. But calling somebody a mean name or tagging everything "liberal tears" isn't funny. It's the kind of funny that the bully's weasely sidekick guffaws over and then says, "You tell 'em, Jimmy!" Speaking of things bullies would say, it's now time for me to criticize Len Strazewski's Justice Society. Previously, some old fart named Kulak made everybody in the world begin to hate. But they aren't just randomly hating everybody else. They really seem to be bonding over their hatred for the Justice Society of America. Is this story a metaphor about me and my hatred of this comic book? Because that would be a terrible metaphor seeing as how I don't really hate this comic. I wish I did though! I'm old and I need to feel passion! I bet if I hadn't dropped cable eighteen years ago, I'd be addicted to Fox News too! No, I wouldn't be. I'm as liberal as you can be while still making offensive jokes. So not really that liberal, I guess? Maybe I'm socially, economically, and politically liberal. But I'm a complete asshole when it comes to punchlines. Don't get me wrong! I don't make offensive jokes at the expense of people different than me. I make offensive jokes about myself and those Goddamned fucking babies. Fuck those parasitic monsters. This issue begins with Starman finally reappearing.

It really wasn't exciting enough for an announcement of his return. He's just another half-balding old guy. But it lets me talk about the DC Universe show, Stargirl!

I decided to watch Stargirl because what else am I going to do with my life? Finish reading Gravity's Rainbow? I mean, I am going to do that now that I'm done re-reading those awful Lando Calrissian books. But I can't spend all of time reading Pynchon! Just too much of it! I mean, I'm only 18 pages into Gravity's Rainbow (which is further than I've ever gotten on my previous three attempts!) and I'd estimate I don't understand 5% of the words he's used. And that's me being an English Lit major who has been a voracious reader his entire 48 years (minus the ones where I couldn't read yet. Like ten or something?). I was in bed reading and didn't have a dictionary at hand so I just powered through. But I think I need to go back through and learn all of those words so I can impress the local Starbucks barista! Or are people not impressed when you use a word they have nearly zero chance of knowing and don't know you enough to keep the conversation going by asking you what that means and instead just smile and nod and glance occasionally at the tip jar? Anyway, so I've watched three episodes so far and I'll tell you how I feel about it after I mention how I've actually watched four episodes. The first episode I watched, I was impressed with because Courtney was already palling around with a bunch of legacy JSA members and the Injustice Society was trying to tackle the "Who is Stargirl?" problem and I watched it thinking, "This is really impressive how they decided to start in the middle of the story like this. I like it!" Then I went to watch episode two and I was confused because it didn't seem to follow after the previous episode. So I kept thinking, "Maybe this is a flashback?" And then eighteen minutes into it, I thought, "Maybe I didn't watch the pilot episode. I'd better check." And I started watching the first episode which I totally hadn't seen. So I guess I started with Episode 7 or something. Here are some of my tweet-thoughts on the show for those who don't follow me on Twitter (why don't you follow me on twitter? What is wrong with you? Is it because you don't know I'm @GrunionGuy?): Tweet #1: "Sometimes you think maybe you're having inappropriate thoughts but then you check to make sure the actress playing a fifteen year old Stargirl is actually 21 and then you breathe a sigh of relief and think, 'I won't be cancelled today! Unless I tweet this experience, probably.'" Tweet #2: "Sometimes you think maybe you're having inappropriate thoughts but then remember it's okay to fuck a car that's been converted into a giant robot with Luke Wilson inside of it." Tweet #3: "3rd episode of Stargirl begins with a dying white woman's final wish to her white husband that he make the world safe for their white son. She dies and he goes out into the enormous hedge maze garden of his mansion to scream into the sky about the injustice of it all. All in all, a pretty good villain origin!" That third tweet was the only one that really makes any sort of socially acceptable commentary on the show. Saying things like "Stargirl's butt doesn't look like my mouth should be inside of it because she's fifteen although the actress is twenty-one so maybe it actually does look like that?" aren't the greatest things to admit even if you're just joking (which I am but just adding this statement makes it sound like I'm not but I totally am (that "totally" doesn't help but I assure you, I'm joking (did the hole just get deeper?))). I mean, sure, her body is super fit because she's a super hero (or will be?). But she has such a baby face! And even at twenty-one, she's just a baby! If I were younger, I'd totally have a crush on her. But I'm 48 and I just don't consider young women proper targets for my sexual deviance anymore. The only interaction I should have with young women these days is warning them against going out to the summer camp at the lake where that boy drowned so many years ago. The girls I had a crush on when I was younger (Christina Applegate (Kelly Bundy), Winona Ryder (Veronica Sawyer), and Stacie Mistysyn (Caitlin Ryan)), I have even more of a crush on now. Judging by the crushes I've had my whole life and not society's stereotype of women, women definitely get better looking as they get older. And probably as I get older. I'm sure that's part of it although I like to think that fifteen year old me would still look at these nearly fifty (or maybe fifty? I'm not so obsessed I know their ages but they're all around my age anyway) year old women and think, "Holy fuck mommy." I'm sorry for that last comment. But I'm only sorry to God not anybody who was reading this. Oh, I forgot to mention that Joel McHale is the original Starman (I mean original in the show although he's Sylvester Pemberton who was never Starman but only Skyman although in the show he was at one point the Star-Spangled Kid and Luke Wilson does mention Ted Knight at some point). And he's funny in his death scene just like he should be because I've obviously decides Sylvester is Jeff Winger's new superhero secret identity alias. Starman heads off with his Cosmic Buttplug to stop Kulak in Gotham City. He doesn't know it yet but the rest of his pals are currently battling Kulak and probably losing. Although Kulak is even older than they are so maybe it's a fair fight. I'm just surprised that a comic book where old men battle other old men has made it ten issues.

I think some editor was fired last issue and the new editor's only job was to make sure it didn't look like Thunderbolt had been speared through the asshole.

Although this editor seemed to think it was okay to have Hawkgirl fucked from behind by Kulak.

I hope this isn't a terrible conservative take on women that exposes how terrible I am at sex but even mind-controlled, I can't imagine licking a woman's shoulder would elicit that response. Although she could be "Ummming" from his pee-hee in her bee-boo.

I know conservative talking points are generally fucking idiotic but Ben Shapiro somehow thinking women can get "too wet" from sexual excitement might be the most hilariously idiotic. I don't think I've been with a woman who was all, "Yes! Yes! Lick my shoulder blade!" and I then I got super into it and then suddenly she was all, "Nope. Too wet. This isn't working for me anymore. I need a doctor, I guess?" Who am I kidding? I know I've never been with a woman who did that because that would mean I've had to have been with a woman! Also, women get wet down there? What's that about? Is it because the vagina cries at the sight of the penis? Kulak takes away all of their super powers but I guess he forgets that Wildcat doesn't have any so I'm hoping Wildcat just punches him in the face soon. Although that Starman bit probably was a hint at how the coming fight might end. You know, with Starman shoving his Cosmic Buttplug into Kulak's third eye, if you know what I'm saying. You probably do because I called it a Cosmic Buttplug. I should try to be more subtle. Kulak's entire purpose is to get revenge on the Justice Society for defeating him way back in 1940. Can't even one super villain just accept defeat and move on with their lives? Or are writers just always going to be so inherently lazy that they'll never give up the crutch of the villain attacking the hero directly out of revenge for that one single time they tried to actually commit a crime and were stopped? The JSA puts up a fight that helps to drain Kulak's power but it isn't until Starman arrives and does that thing I mentioned with his Cosmic Buttplug that Kulak is defeated.

This is the grossest orgasm I've ever seen and my computer is riddled with viruses from all of the previous ones I've watched.

After Kulak's defeat, Jesse Quick wraps up the issue with her super hero dissertation which is less a dissertation and more of a thorough cleaning of all of their asses with her tongue. She's all, "I didn't really do much research or define heroes too good but the Justice Society of America are my heroes so I deserver a degree, right?" Justice Society of America #10 Rating: B. This comic book was as average as they get. I suppose that should garner a C grade but a B grade just seems to say decent but mediocre. By the time I get down to a C grade, I feel like the comic book needs a lot more faults than "I don't really care about stories with heroes who are having strokes during the battles." It's a valid criticism but it's probably too subjective for a critical review. I know, I know! When has that ever stopped me before? Well, I feel charitable today. It probably has something to do with Mars being so close to the full moon earlier this week. My blood is all riled up and wacky!

[fizzingwizard]

I finally saw the Cats movie the other day.

After the alarming trailers and the bad reviews after the premiere, I was pretty much desperate to like it. Just to like it, enough, as a Cats fan. I thought, “ok, if the normal people dislike it, that doesn’t mean there aren’t enough nuggets and even pearls to sustain us true fans.” Trust me, I am a fan of X-men comics, I am very very used to doing that. (It’s the entire reason I can stomach the Dark Phoenix movie at all.) So my bar was, I thought, appropriately low.

Oh how wrong I was.

iT’S THE WORST MOVIE I EVER SAW GUYS. And it gives me no small amount of pain to admit that. It marks the first time in my life I considered walking out of the theater, not out of outrage, just boredom. And Cats has never bored me before. So I must rant.

Before I start, though, I have to say I just can’t blame the cast for any of this. It’s the movie direction. As far as I can tell, the actors acted and danced their hearts out truly believing when it was finished this movie would be something resembling a movie. The resemblance is there, but... faint.

1) The CGI. A while back I suggested that once the CGI was finished and polished up, and moreover, when we could watch it continuously and not in stitched-together bits for a haphazard trailer, then the CGI cats wouldn’t look as jarring. For the most part, that was the case for me. But I’m certain it wasn’t the case for everyone. It was freakishly reminiscent of that live action Cat in the Hat movie (and that’s not exactly a compliment).

It didn’t bother me too much, because I thought from the beginning that costumes or CGI, it would be impossible to design human cats who don’t rub a lot of people the wrong way. It was a sacrifice I was okay making because I saw it as an inevitability. But the hairier cats like Old Deut and Gus (ie, the cats whose costumes were more reminiscent of the theater) definitely looked better, though. (Speaking of which, who on EARTH shaved poor Rum Tum Tugger!?)

But aside from the cats. Those rats FREAKED me out. If those had been in the trailer? My hopes would have been dashed much, much earlier. Eek. No. And... the rats came back a second time... and then a third!!! Meanwhile the beetles were just... people in beetle suits. Mr. Hooper, what are you smoking? I need some right now.

Also. Why, WHY don’t the cats have cat noses? That bothered me the whole time!!

2) The choreography. When I saw the cast, way back before even trailers were out, the first thing I thought was “um, do these people secretly have classical dance training and it just isn’t widely known?” Because Cats is basically a variety show. You can’t do Cats without amazing dancing in multiple styles, from ballet to tap to freaking gymnastics.

There were some dancers, including Victoria. I wish I could say more of them. It’s not that they aren’t talented. I’m sure they are. It’s just that, between the choreography being incredibly changed, and then on top of that edited with CGI to “improve” the feline poses and stunts, who knows where the actual dancing is. Not me. We don’t even get one fouette from Mistoffelees. I mean. Come on. Not even in CGI! Why would you do this to Cats. Why. Why.

It’d be one thing if the movie choreography clearly improved Cats the movie, which, after all, wasn’t going to be an exact replica of Cats the musical. Unfortunately, it, uh, doesn’t.

3) The music. I haven’t seen this touched on a lot, but did anyone else notice the music sounded like someone was just playing the soundtrack for the 90s film on a boombox somewhere in the background? It wasn’t crisp. It wasn’t even loud. The electric guitar that makes you shiver when you hear it live? Barely discernible. At the very least, I thought they’d do something interesting with the music, although I guess I should thank my lucky stars that they randomly decided to leave well enough alone in this instance... But it’s a MUSICAL. How do you half-ass the (amazing, by the way!) score in a MUSICAL?!

4) The singing. Yes, this needs its own separate section, because WHY COULDN’T ANYONE SING. Even people who can, in fact, sing!! Jennifer Hudson is GREAT singer. Her “Memory” isn’t terrible, but it is drastically overacted and far from joining my list of favorite “Memory” performances. Taylor Swift’s “Macavity” was fine, I guess. I’d probably be more positive about it if the rest of the movie didn’t suck. James Corden was fine too, “Bustopher Jones” is not exactly a challenging song, but Rebel Wilson’s “Old Gumbie Cat” was breathy, weirdly sexualized, and couldn’t end fast enough for me. I’m not too familiar with Jason Derulo but I am sure he doesn’t sing like an idiot all the time, and neither should Rum Tum Tugger. What was that about?

And no one expected Judi Dench to sing but she sure tried. I admire her for it, but sorry, Mr. Hooper, I don’t agree that Old Deut can get away with a poetry reading version of “The Moments of Happiness.”

“Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer” was pretty good but difficult to understand because all the scene-changing made the lyrics hard to follow (and I know them by heart). “Skimbleshanks” more or less the same. I wouldn’t have complained about these if the movie had been a little better overall.

“Magical Mr. Mistoffelees” is more about the dancing than the singing, but it’s such a climactic number that the way it’s so slow and, er, anticlimactic in this movie is just a huge letdown.

5) The unending fat jokes. I know James Corden and Rebel Wilson are both perfectly comfortable with poking fun at themselves, and do it pretty much all the time. I also know they’re both okay being gross. I suppose people thought the two of them together would be movie magic. Instead, their powers combined to create The Ultimate Apocalyptic Unending Gross Fat People Joke Machine. Some of the jokes were a little funny. They got less funny the more they occurred. And just when you thought they would stop. THEY INCREASED. It’s like I was secretly in a Spongebob Squarepants movie where they obsessively make fun of fat people and their bodies while eating everything in sight. It had a mood of “fat people power!” but a stench of “we couldn’t think of any good jokes so we just did some gross shit!”

6) I hate Munkustrap! This one has no appearance of objectivity, I just can’t stand him. He looks weirder in the CGI than most of them (not his fault, but). I hated his singing voice. And he got to sing way too much for how enjoyable he was. He looked a little stoned, to be frank. Maybe that’s what they were going for. BTW, I absolutely adore Munkustrap in the show. I wasn’t exactly expecting Michael Gruber again, and yet, I sort of was.

7.) Victoria’s original song. Actually. Actually. I liked this song. It was a nice song! I enjoyed listening to it in the credits. (lol?) They clearly spent much more time making it sound nice than they did the actual Cats music. But why... why was there an original song... in a musical that already has more than enough songs? What did it add? I get that it was supposed to explain Victoria’s motivations and show her connection with Grizabella. I just don’t think it was necessary. Because. Because. There’s already an explanatory song in the musical! the little known number... “Memory!” And its variations. As a well as the not insignificant “Glamour Cat” song. Victoria doesn’t have a song. That’s true. Jemima/Sillabub does though. If you’re going you erase the juxtaposition of Jemima and Grizabella and force Victoria into a similar role, why couldn’t she have just sung “Moonlight”? IIRC she did in the end sing the interlude during “Memory” anyway. Then they forced more reprises of the original Victoria song on us, even made Judi Dench sing it. It’s a nice song. WHAT IS IT DOING HERE.

(More in another post because it is late and my complaints are many.)

[shark-myths]

Folie A Deux

I promised to write FAD meta like, forever ago. It took longer than I planned. Here it is, at last.

Folie is anthemic, artistic; it’s cynicism and heartbreak all layered up in failing hope. It’s Pete saying goodbye to his band and embarking on a new life as a husband and a father. It’s Patrick finding his confidence as a showman just in time for it to turn to ash on his tongue and prompt him to remake himself utterly. It’s Joe finally feeling like he has a role in FOB and creative ownership of his own band. It’s Andy, um, drumming. Super well. Without any particular emotional interpretation on my part because Andy’s, you know, pretty content to just play with his friends.

Without further blathering, allow me to present, at long last: a rambling, tear-filled, official Tryst Theory ™ interpretation of FOB’s fourth-and-almost-final studio album.

I am always struck most by the quality of obstruction in the albums produced during the Commercial Success/’Sell Out’ era. Pete begins obscuring himself for the first time during Infinity on High and especially Folie A Deux: the lyrics become increasingly senseless, more about cleverness and sound that saying things plainly. But he’s so honest during this era too. He tells us exactly what it feels like to be him, to be so pulled apart and scrutinized and sad, to be sick on his own hope. To be sick and fuzzy, made of stuffing, and far away on way-too-many anxiety meds. We get lines that don’t make much sense on the surface, like ‘I’m not a chance, put a heat wave in your pants,’ and we get the self-aware aggression of bops like I Don’t Care.

In the previous era, Pete didn’t really know what it meant, yet—being Pete Wentz. Being so public. Being the face of the band, being the bad guy and the heel. What it would cost. Now he understands that anything he touches, or looks at, or says at loud is going to change. Once he does it, says it, thinks it, feels it, it’s out of his control. It’s owned by someone else. Even his private body, his private phone. Even his decision to defend his friend from an aggressive bouncer onstage. The brand of phone he carries, the girls he texts, who he stands next to in photos, the cities where he plays shows and the cities he does not. Now he understands that his life is not his, but something the public will use to hurt him if we get bored. This is drugstore cowboy Pete. This is a Pete grown so heavy under the weight of his own misery and bullshit that he can barely go on. This is a Pete preparing to say goodbye.

Which is a long way of saying: Folie A Deux fucks me up.

 A little history (sourced heavily from Wikipedia):

The album was recorded from July-September 2008, beginning two months after Pete and Ashlee were married, and released in December 2008, shortly after Bronx was born. They started recording ahead of schedule, without telling the label, and deliberately limited their studio time. They wanted to recapture what they had felt during Grave, when they were racing against their drained back accounts to get the album set down. They wanted that simplicity and rawness, the feeling of being mixed-up kids half living out of a van and making music that felt vibrant and essential. Patrick told AP, “There was something really interesting about that creative process when we were starting out. The more time you have, the more potential you have for excess.” (He thought he dominated Infinity and wanted to pare himself back, reign himself in, for Folir.) They tried to emulate the process and feeling of Grave as much as possible: “first-thought, best-thought.” Joe pushed to be included more in collaboration and felt like he “owned the songs a lot more. It made me really excited about contributing to Fall Out Boy and made me find my role in the band.” Pete made an effort (this is him making an effort, okay) to keep his personal life more sequestered from the writing and use more metaphor and the conceit characters speaking lines, more like a stage musical. And, perhaps true to the feeling of Grave, Pete and Patrick fought painfully and violently over the record. It was personal and artistic for everyone. They felt it was their best work.

Fans tore them apart, of course. Booing anytime they played anything off the new record. The album undersold and public reception did not match the glowing critical reviews. They tried to say something important, to talk about society and convey real messages in their music. They were publicly rebuffed. Joe told Rolling Stone, “Some of us were miserable on stage. Others were just drunk.” The reception, the struggle, cemented what Pete had already decided to do: leave the band.

(Let’s not talk about the last song of what he thought would be their last show ever during which, instead of playing Saturday with his best friends and his me-and-Pat, he had the man who named the band in the first place shave off his signature Pete Wentz hair in a symbolic ritual of fucking morning, let’s not let’s not)

(but in case you want to)

 A little cover art:

I just want you to know that Pete Wentz has the original painting of that cover in his home. IN CASE YOU THINK THAT’S RELEVANT.

This image. With Pete’s furry history. With the costumes and feeling like a zoo animal and playing the role of the heel, with the way he said in the Folie Making Of video that being perceived in media is “like wearing a costume, you’re not who you are.” With his interest especially in bears, the talk of stitches and stuffing and seams, with the Lullabye track and ‘honey is for bees silly bear’ (and Black Cards’ ‘you’re my best friend, honeycomb head’) and the whole Winnie the Pooh vibe. With the devoted companionship and singular love exhibited by Winnie the Pooh and the way he turns back into inert, lifeless stuffing when you grow too old and you forget what he really is and see him as just a toy, empty and pliable, and the way only childhood wonder and innocence can return him to life. How the cover has not just one person on it, but a bear-boy plus one: a madness shared by two. A real bear, and someone who’s just pretending, or just trying to be. What a match, what a catch.

WHAT A PETERICK MASTERPIECE THIS FUCKING ALBUM IS

The liner notes are empty, by the way. For the physical CD. The liner notes are just pictures and names of band members, then production information and thanks to ‘fans, friends, and loves.’ Nothing else. No lyrics. No record. If that’s not foreshadowing—

 And now said masterpiece itself:

1. Disloyal Order of the Water Buffaloes

Okay, so let’s take a step back and imagine for a second the decision-making process that went into writing a magnum fucking opus Peterick anthem to open the album with. Are we all on the same page here? WHAT THE FUCK, were they TRYING to kill me

This album is the fucking Holy Grail of the drug use = Patrick metaphor, and we dive right into it with this one. Boycott love. Detox just to retox. DRAW YOUR OWN HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON’T PARALLELS. #trysttheory

For all that Pete tried to move away from autobiographical lyrics on this album, his view of himself is plain in this song: ‘perfect boys with their perfect lives, no one wants to hear you sing about tragedy.’

The line ‘fell out of bed, butterfly bandage, but don’t worry’ brings up my theories about what dreams mean. Falling out of bed and getting hurt is a clear consequence of dreaming so hard you forgot it was just a dream (or trysting with your best friend and forgetting there could be consequences, real people you can hurt and yourself included). ‘You’ll never remember, your head is far too blurry’ ties into w.a.m.s as well as Cooperstown and the idea of being blurry-headed, impaired because you’re fucked up on love or some other drug, and making choices you’d regret, if you could remember them. Making mistakes you’ll have to live with whether you remember them or not.

(Romantically speaking, water buffaloes are disloyal: Google suggests a single male water buffalo can sire as many as 100 baby buffs in a single mating season. It seems pretty obvious throughout this album that issues of infidelity were large in Pete’s mind while writing these lyrics.)

2. I Don’t Care

This song makes me think of Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) so much. Starting over again in Mexico, friends who don’t care about you, the blues-pop bounce to it and repeating riff? Sonically, they have a lot in common.

Pete may be playing on his previous reference to Closer (‘he tastes like you only sweeter’) with the opening line here—‘say my name and his in the same breath, I dare you to say they taste the same’—which is the saddest and most painful movie about heterosexuals you will ever watch, but writing that line and putting it on Patrick’s tongue? That may be the gayest thing that happens to me all night, guys, and I’m a queer girl with a bottle of wine and a long, long Friday evening ahead of me.

This song is so much a conversation Pete is having with the world about his fame and notoriety, imo. He calls it a narcissist’s anthem but I don’t think that’s it, exactly. I think—and the music video backs me up on this—it’s a coy wink at their own reputation, all the shit people are slinging about them and Pete specifically. We get a drug reference here, too: ‘take a chance, let your body get a tolerance.’

Also, Patrick is a nun in the video. Pete put Patrick in a literal fucking habit. What more do you need to me to say to prove definitely that Pete is desperately in love with him? This. Kid. In. A. Nun’s. Habit.

3. She’s My Winona

IF THIS SONG ISN’T A DISCUSSION OF HOW PETE HAD TO REVISE HIS PETERICK AMBITIONS WHEN HE FOUND OUT ASHLEE WAS PREGNANT

(There are so many suicide references in this song I want to join Pete and the band’s manager in cheering and celebrating all over again that our boy lived to 28. You can physically feel him resigning himself to living a long life in these verses.)

‘Hell or glory, I don’t want anything in between.’ I take this line as pretty directly about him and Patrick: he doesn’t care if they go to hell and it ruins the band, he wants to take the risk, because he thinks together they could be—glory. He wants to roll the dice. (Take a chance—I’m not a chance.) And ‘then came a baby boy with long eyelashes, and daddy said “you gotta show the world the thunder.”’ In other words, he wanted hell or glory, ruination or Patrick, but then along came his son. And his priorities changed. Of course they did. True love is one thing; raising your child is another.

‘We had a good run, even I have to admit.’

(And—here’s the thing—people ask me sometimes, what I think about Pete marrying Ashlee. “Do you think he married her just because it was the right thing to do?” No. I think he believed in love and family and forever. I think Pete believed it would work. I think he wanted it to. I think that’s why the trysting, and eventually the band, stopped: because Pete tried his fucking best. I think he loved her and loved the idea of a future for himself—the first time he’s ever really imagined that. The idea of somewhere to belong, a real family, one that he felt part of. I think he wanted more than anything for it to work precisely because it was so different from what he, or anyone else, ever expected for him. He said ‘I want to marry this girl’ and he meant it. He really did intend to love her forever, as best he could, and not love anyone else if he could help it.

But those aren’t good reasons to build a whole relationship on, a marriage on. And he was a mess, and in love with Patrick too, and hated and famous and fucked. He had no privacy, limited emotional maturity, a burgeoning substance problem and no sense of himself that wasn’t dependent on what the culture and the media and his fans and his friends reflected back to him and said was true. There was no way they could be happy together under those circumstances, and he’d have stayed forever anyway, I think. His interviews about that time—when he stopped shaving, then stopped showering; when he was a drugstore cowboy stay-at-home dad, depressed and giving up—he doesn’t blame Ashlee for wanting to leave. He hated himself enough to be miserable forever, but she didn’t. So of course it fell apart.)

4. America’s Suitehearts

This commercial headfuck of a song. Jerry christ, guys, someone throw me an anchor so I can drown myself. This caricature, the monstrosity and performance of celebrity, the way the band is reduced to wrestling alter egos, painted and pretend. No one’s being subtle with this song, this video. They are showing us exactly what they mean.

‘I must confess, I’m in love with my own sins.’

DO YOU MEAN LIKE BEING IN GAY LOVE WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND

DO YOU MEAN THAT SIN?

And this verse, though ostensibly about the vagaries of fame, sounds so much like him falling in love with Patrick while Patrick is oblivious:

‘You can bow and pretend you don’t know you’re a legend. Time just hasn’t told anyone else yet. I’m sorry, I just let my love loose again.’

For so many years, Pete believed his love was something he had to apologize for. 😭 😭 😭 😭

5. Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet

Okay, fuck this, I’m done

This fucking

This

UGH

Remember the paternity rumors at the time of Ashlee’s pregnancy? Look at this whole complicated, tangled-up song about infidelity and paternity and the idea of Ashlee cheating while Pete’s cheating too. ‘Keep a calendar, this way you will always know’ [who impregnated you]. ‘I will never end up like him. behind my back, I already am.’ I literally cannot

‘Does he know the way I worship our love’

6. The (Shipped) Gold Standard

do I even need to keep writing this or is the album now, itself, independently writing the tryst theory

my notes for this song just say ‘come the fuck on’

This song is about: living in LA and missing Chicago (and what it felt like in Chicago, who you were and who you were with); taking accountability for your own actions even when it does not satisfy your hedonistic urges (e.g., marrying your pregnant girlfriend and breaking off your illicit love affair with Patrick Stump), trying to remake your identity and change yourself like those are the same thing and you can get a new heart as easily as a new name; losing your luck and breaking up (‘tell that boy I’ll leave you alone now, like a stove, I’ll turn my love down); horseshoe crabs; and of course, that good ol’ famous-in-the-closet feel:

‘I wanna scream I love you from the top of my lungs, but I’m afraid that someone else will hear me.’

7. Coffee’s For Closers

I’m just crying by now I can’t type anymore

He’s using this whole album to break up with Patrick, to explain, to say goodbye

‘I want everything to change and stay the same. Time doesn’t care about anyone or anything. Come together, come apart.’

‘We will never believe again’

And: ‘kick drum beating in my chest again’ and that feeling, the one we’ve all felt in the pit at any show, any good one with that golden-vibe in the air, the one that makes your heart feel connected to the hearts of everyone around you, like you could be lifted on light and floating around the room, like the love is pouring out of you and rising like heat and linking up to the network of love flowing into and out of everyone else, when you feel it and know they do too and your whole body vibrates with the impossible imperceptible hum of your very atoms, your constituent fucking molecules lit up and stitched together by this, this, this. The feeling like you don’t need lungs because singing in breath and bellows enough, the feeling like the only reason you ever had a heart was so the drummer could pump it with their sticks. ‘Preach electric to the microphone stand,’ Patrick the conductor, Patrick the evangelist, Patrick the gospel of his fucking love. Pete’s saying goodbye to that feeling. Pete knows, he knows already, what he is planning to do.

Pete’s lying. Pete’s saying ‘I love the mayhem more than the love’ like all he’s really been out to do is make a mess, break hearts, take names. Like he is no more and no less than what all the tabloids say about him. (Never watch the Fresh Only Bakery videos on youtube. They are boring, for one, and also the saddest fucking Pete you will ever see.) Pete’s saying ‘I will never believe in anything again’ and he’s making Patrick say it too, because true-blue love was supposed to last forever, and then Pete got married to someone else.

‘Oh, change will come.’

8. What A Catch, Donnie

NO. NO

how the fuck dare this song even exist

So this is it. This is the goodbye. Pete has talked about how he wrote this song from Patrick’s perspective, and he recruited some of Patrick’s favorite artists and friends of the band to sing different lines in a medley of the band’s hits up to this point. This is like, the FOB song equivalent of a suicide note. (To follow this with a greatest hits album—! G O D)

The reference to Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway—their collaboration, his ultimate suicide, and the way Miss Flack looked on all his destruction and said ‘I still want you back’ is absolutely a testament to the way Patrick, and the rest of the band, forgave him and took him back in after the notorious Best Buy Incident. The gratitude for the whole band and what the band has done for Pete is tied up in this song. ‘You’ll never catch us’ smacks of trysting, and there’s something to the line ‘I’m the one who charmed the one who gave up on you,’ as the speaker in the sentence in meant to be Patrick and the ‘you’ is presumed to be Pete.

‘They say the captain goes down with the ship, so when the world ends, will God go down with it?’ is both Pete’s intention to go down with the band (which he’s planning to sink, or sees unraveling already in the painful writing process—we don’t know at what point he made his decision to destroy yet another thing he loved in penance for some deep, unknowable conviction of sin) and his gesture of setting them free. The Video of Which We Will Not Speak shows this pretty clearly. Pete saves everyone and everything he’s ever loved at the bargain price of drowning himself. He does it without ever even appearing in the aired version of the video. *broken sobbing*

(The links for the full version are not currently on Youtube, but you can read about it here: http://www.mtv.com/news/1618609/fall-out-boy-release-wrong-version-of-what-a-catch-donnie-video/)

What a match, what a catch. If I say anything else about this song, and how basically everyone who heard it knew it meant the band was going to break up, I will absolutely fall apart

9. 27

OH GOOD A SONG I CAN MAKE IT THROUGH WITHOUT CHOKING ON MY OWN TEARS

NOT

So here’s a lovely little ditty about how Pete Wentz did not kill himself and die at age 27 as he always thought he would! Hahahahahaha I’m fine it’s fine I’m so glad this album exists I’m so glad I’m TALKING ABOUT IT

‘If home is where the heart is, then we’re all just fucked.’ All three of them: Pete, Patrick, and Ashlee. And every FOB fan out there. Ahahaha. GUYS I’M NOT OKAY

We’ve got Peterick drug metaphors to rival the punch of Hold Me Tight Or Don’t: ‘I want it so bad, I’d shoot the sunshine into my veins… Doing lines of dust and sweat off of last’s night stage just to feel like you. Milligrams in my head, burning tobacco in my wind, chasing the direction you went.’

We’ve got desperation about growing and changing and losing that which they so valued in their sound and collaboration on Grave: ‘I can’t remember the good old days. Are all the good times getting gone? They come and go and come and go.’

We’ve got the pressure of keeping your love affair with your lead singer a secret lest you risk your fame, label representation, and fortune: ‘My mind is a safe, and if I keep it in we all get rich’ right next to the dirty, hollow feeling of having images of your body stolen and used to drag your name and reputation like you had no more heart than any other empty doll and losing the value of yourself in that process: ‘My body is an orphanage, we take everyone in.’

We’ve got the romantic comparison to cosmic entities, just like in Real Ones: ‘you’re a bottled star, the planets align. You’re just like Mars, you shine in the sky.’ And that tinge of disparagement and lonesomeness: ‘I’ve got a lot of friends who are stars but some are just black holes.’

10. Tiffany Blews

This song plays with a lot of fun moth/flame metaphors that I really enjoy, while also really amplifying the isolation and quick-burning nature of fame. I think that Pete gets a sick satisfaction from having Patrick sing out the worst things he thinks about himself, that he thinks everyone else thinks about him. (Pete, I think, is the little black dress that will be faded soon.)

Interestingly, we have ‘a roman candle heart keeps us far apart,’ which is a pretty direct link to the later Fourth of July. A heart that flares, explodes, and then burns out quickly certainly would be an obstacle to building a lasting relationship, no matter how much you loved someone…

‘Hate me, baby. Maybe I’m a piece of art.’

‘Dear gravity, you held me down in this starless city’ makes me think of the Moonrise Kingdom quote in Wilson (Expensive Mistakes): ‘I hope the roof flies off and we all get sucked into space.’ It’s the opposite, basically. Hoping to fall in love and get thrown up among the glittering cosmos rather than anchored someplace dark and starless. (Aside: I love how susceptible Pete is to grand, cheesy quotes? Like when, a few days after the release of The Last Jedi, he tweeted the heavy-handed noir line ‘I want to put my fist through this whole lousy, beautiful town.’ Like, look for that in a FOB song someday.)

11. w.a.m.s.

For the curious, Andy confirmed on Twitter that the title stands for waitress/actress/model/singer, a reference to the stereotype of people who run away to Hollywood to make it big but end up washing out and struggling as the starving artist/waitstaff type. If this idea of our boys citing bankrupt ambition does not make you emotional, you may not have a heart.

This song is incredibly relevant to the dreams meta linked earlier—‘when all the others were just stirring awake, I’m trying to trick myself to fall asleep again’ is very evocative of being in denial over the jarring reality of the end of the tryst. I think this song is about one of the last times Pete and Patrick slept together before breaking up.

‘My head’s in heaven, my soles are in hell’ again highlights that Pete’s wildest Patrick dreams are very different than where he actually finds himself; ‘let’s meet in the purgatory of my hips and get well’ is a pretty transparent request, isn’t it? Especially since pre-hiatus Pete really loved to use ‘hips’ as a signifier for sexual desire/activity. Let’s just fuck and pretend it’s all okay. Let’s lose ourselves in each other and pretend we can have it. Tell me I’m the only one, even if it’s not true. Let me get high on this memory one last time.

‘Hurry, hurry. You put my head in such a flurry, flurry’ is the urgency and compromised judgment of the tryst. ‘Oh freckle freckle’ can be read as Patrick’s forehead mole. ‘What makes you so special? I’m gonna leave you’ tells us what makes the last time so good: Pete knows it’s the last time. Pete knows he has to end it. But he’s so addicted-sick, ((stray-dog sick,)) he can’t stop. ‘I’m gonna teach you how we’re all alone’ doesn’t really sound like something a newlywed and soon-to-be-dad should be saying, does it? But there it is. How can he let go when he knows ‘how heartwarming it is inside your skin’?

The final nail in my coffin: ‘I’m a sunshine machine. I want to get stuck and be golden in your memory.’

We’ve talked about how Patrick = sunshine = gold, right. r i g h t

12. 20 Dollar Nose Bleed

Fun fact: this song is basically erotica to me ever since I wrote that recording booth smut about it! I can’t even listen to it without blushing and becoming uncomfortable. So there’s something you didn’t need to know about me that you… now know about me.

‘Permanent jet lag, please take me back. I’m stray dog sick, please let me in. The mad key’s tripping, singing vows before we exchange smoke rings.’ It is OBVIOUSLY my prerogative to interpret this as slightly depraved sexual longing, but I especially like the bit about singing vows without ever exchanging anything lasting or visible that implies commitment—this can be heard as a comment on the fickleness of commitment, or it can be heard as a comment about how deeply he is/was committed to Patrick even though they never had anything to show for it. Anything they could show for it. Even to each other.

Benzedrine is, of course, the very first pharmaceutical amphetamine (read about it here!). Many great artists and thinkers were influenced by the impossible energy it gives you, which is obviously relatable to someone who experiences natural mania, peddling his own prescription like a ‘medicine man’ (Wilson lyrics). I think the verse about Benzedrine and not letting the doctor in not-so-obliquely references the issue with medication compliance that Pete experienced and many people diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder also do: the meds for this disorder are really unpleasant. They dull you out, they give you tremors, they have really strong side effects, and they take away that amazing manic spark that so many artists credit with their success. Don’t let the doctor in. They’ll take away the only thing he really likes about being himself.

‘Have you ever wanted to disappear?’ is, I think, a glimpse of the unadorned real.

The spoken word bit at the end of this song really hammers together a lot of the themes of the whole album, the whole band, personal and political both. ‘You said you’re not listening and I said I’m wishing…’, only we don’t ever find out what’s really being said.

13. West Coast Smoker

I love the hell out of this song because there are few things in life that are hotter than Patrick singing the chorus. And fuck. Patrick saying curse words. I die every time. I think this is a kink I share with Pete Wentz. I think one day Pete Wentz and I will share a circle of hell. It will be called the ‘Underage Stump Mouth Rotunda,’ and we will all be very ashamed.

We’ve got a lot of the same themes: the ease of suicide and the conviction to live, the way shows feel and how it was when they were kids, drug use and overmedicated ennui. Pete was once the son, is becoming the father, is resolving not to become the holy ghost.

‘I’m the last of my kind’ and ‘when they made me they broke the mold’ and the finality of it all. (Contrasted with the modern era: ‘you’re the last of a dying breed.’ Pete has grown up and away from his recursive self-obsession, from his own myth. Pete learning to look inside others and stop dismissing himself, and everyone else, as fool’s gold.)

‘Your eyes are blocking my starlight’ to me really speaks to the person who is keeping him from Patrick, or the people—the fans, the Public, with their eyes on his every action.

14. Pavlove

I LOVE THIS SONG

Once again, we have a drug use metaphor: ‘she’s back to the bathroom for one more,’ ‘get addicted to this,’ and of course, the endless seeking for something to make ‘my chest stir/my head blur.’ And: ‘I’m not ready for a handshake with death, I’m just such a happy mess’ shows us, for once, what Pete has to live for—not just that he’s resigned to life, but the reason for it. This song is all tied up with the heady swell of live music and self-medication, and there’s no line more representative of my experience as a bisexual person than ‘I’m the invisible man who can’t stop staring at the mirror.’

‘I want to make you as lonely as me so you can get addicted to this’ seems very directed at Patrick, doesn’t it? Because this is a Pete who needs Patrick too much, thinks Patrick doesn’t need him back, is terrified. Doesn’t know how to solve his problems except to flee them. So: he flees them.

 I MADE IT. I BARELY FUCKING MADE IT BUT I DID.

To sum up: Folie is an incredible, sweeping, beautiful album about the glory of Peterick and the band’s impending end, and it will break your heart. Hit me up with questions and requests, and as always, thank you for reading!

shark-myths out *mic drop*

[bechloeficstuff]

Best Quotes of Experimentation

Hey @redlance, remember that anon? That was me. My “collection” of your quotes sprinkled with my thoughts turned out a mess tbh, and it’s kinda really late, and way too long, but here you go anyways:

Best Quotes of Experimentation, aka The Bechloe Bible™. Chapters 1-35.

[or: what you should read if u love that fic but ur too lazy for a whole reread.]

Beca smiles a little, relieved, and tries not to shift under Chloe’s touch. She doesn’t find it comfortable, not exactly.” - Chapter 1 in the middle - because thAT’S THE FEELING THATS THE FEELING EXACTLY

“It’s fine.” She’s quick to say and now her smile is too wide, the wrong kind of bright.  - Chapter 1 towards the end - “the wrong kind of bright“ really nails it. i love your word choice.

She doesn’t really want to talk to anyone right now, because even though they know better than to expect an immediate explanation or apology – and she swears that it isn’t because she’s an asshole, just super awkward – Beca will still feel like she has to give one. - Chapter 2 relatively in the middle - you’re entirely to hashtag relatable, this is Not Okay™ (jk i lov u)

And Chloe loves this. Love being given the opportunity to sit back and take in moments like these. Her best friends interacting around her, the enormous sense of family and comfort that they give her. - Chapter 7 relatively at the beginning - friends fill my heart with warmth, as does this quote

“Two girls, one cup.” It leaves her in a rush and she covers her face with her hands the second she's finished saying it. Chloe's mouth actually falls open. “That's disgusting.” She gasps after a moment, sounding thoroughly appalled. “I know.” Beca sounds so forlorn and defeated, like she's committed some heinous, ignominious offence. Chloe thinks it might be the most adorable thing she's ever witnessed. - Chapter 7 in the middle somewhere - a good example about how abso-fucking-lutely talented you are in describing feelings and the little changes in them through facial expressions in so much detail without it ever getting boring or dry - also it’s really funny :D

So, um,” excellent start, “when you said that,” and her on and off eye contact is in top form today, “that thing about wanting to kiss me?” - Chapter 8, middle - made me laugh :D

“Sorry.” She mumbles, suddenly sombre, and brushes the back of her hand against her nose. “I just...” A sigh escapes her and she hates how sad and pathetic it sounds. She hates feeling like this; weak and worthless and mopy. Because God, she hates moping. More so when other people do it because it makes her all uncomfortable and she never knows what to do. She would love to be able to tell Chloe something other than the truth. Joke that she was waiting for the redhead so they could pick up where they left off in Stacie's car. “I didn't want anyone else to find me.” What comes out though, is the truth. Which is usually how things with Chloe go. - Chapter 11, lower middle - resonated within me

also: some comparisons or phrases i was too lazy to also copy+paste. like for example chloe or beca uttering something that was like a "drunkenly conceived lovechild between a whine and a groan" or something like that or:

The earrings, her tone, and what Aubrey had later coined as Beca's “fuck off smile”.  - Chapter 12 at the beginning ...stuff like that u know. i really like how you put the words together so well (idk how to say that in good english. you obviously would know tho, and that’s the point)

And she only realises that Chloe is awake when she feels her press a smile into her shoulder. - Chapter 13, lower half  - this fluff is giving me diabetes i swear to god

“I can't leave anyone alone for five minutes around here. You bitches all end up drunk off your tits or gayer than Elton John, God rest his soul.” Beca presses her face into her pillow. “Elton John isn't dead, Amy. - Chapter 13, lower half - bc that was fucking funny 😂

"You know that's what they all say, right? 'One thing led to another' and then bam." Beca makes the mistake of taking a drink from her straw as he speaks. "You're pregnant." And it almost results in what Jesse would refer to a 'spit take', but she manages to keep the liquid inside of her mouth. Just barely. "Yeah, um," she wipes her thumb across her bottom lip to catch the thin smear of dribbled drink, “weirdly? Not worried about that.” - Chapter 14, relative beginning - i think i snorted pretty badly when i read that and i feel like people don’t appreciate your comedic talent enough

Amy's face contorts under the strain of her determination and Cynthia Rose pre-emptively clutches at the oversized knit blanket that they sometimes have to throw over the Aussie to get her to calm her down. - Chapter 14, end of first quarter(?) - the amy related humor just kept getting better and better. your characterization of her is also scarily accurate, i doubt that the movie writers could’ve come up with better stuff tbh

but they haven't been able to come this far in their friendship without Beca learning how to read Chloe. Chloe's kind of like a well-worn paperback at this point, even feels a little ragged around her edges, and so Beca can probably see the panic Chloe feels herself spirally towards after her reaction. - Chapter 15, first half - i love love love good comparisons and metaphors

something rattles behind her ribcage, jostled by the term of endearment. - Chapter 16, last third - beautiful yet accurate description of that feeling

she can see clear sky blue eyes – mischievous, sincere; Chloe's natural state – staring at her over the tops of her knees - Chapter 16, last third - bc imagining that just made me fall in love with the amazing character that is your version of chloe beale all over again ugh god

“Oh my god, it's like I lose control of my body when I’m around you.” The words come out as a rushed whisper, once again without her conscious consent - Chapter 16, last third - bc it was an unexpected yet very pleasant plot point

Beca feels her pulse quicken. It's a familiar beat, one that inevitably starts up whenever she's about to make a move, because initiating things isn't usually within her comfort zone.  - Chapter 16, at the end - bc you can just relate to that a lot as a reader

Chloe's protest is punctuated in all the wrong place by giggles that continually tug at the edges of Beca's smile.  - Chapter 18, towards the end - really nice description

Because she is really, genuinely sore and Chloe does give truly magical massages and it has nothing to do with Beca missing the feeling of her hands on her, because that would be weird. - Chapter 19, beginning - Beca’s sad attempts at denial are gold material :D

“I was conceived on the steps of the Sydney Opera House.” - Chapter 25, lower half - because I could genuinely hear Rebel Wilson saying that in a PP movie. (see: frighteningly spot-on characterization of amy)

There are butterflies mating in her stomach, she knows it. - Chapter 25, towards the end - :D

She can still recall the first time it had stormed after her father's death. - Chapter 26, relative beginning - because you don't expect the end of the sentence and it hits you pretty hard. in the feels. am i ok? not really

And Chloe can't help herself; she twists her head around and brushes her nose against the soft skin of Beca's neck before straining just enough to place a kiss to the same spot - Chapter 26, towards the end - bc that wording "can't help herself" is so accurate

Beca, who whimpers into Chloe's mouth when the redhead presses closer and deepens the kiss, and sucks a sharp breath in when Chloe's hand closes tightly around Beca's arm. Beca, who lets Chloe kiss her for far, far too long given their whereabouts before jerking away. - Chapter 26, end - bc the timing and description and everything of that kiss shows the amount of tension between those two and it's just weirdly perfect idk

Generally, Chloe aggressively and shamelessly flirting the whole time they're on that couch in those moments is my jam

Beca feels fingertips wriggling into the gap at the junction of her thumb and forefinger, and turning her hand over. It's a gesture that has been familiar for a long time now, but lately the way it effects her seems to have changed. It makes her feel extra warm or something. Nervous. - Chapter 27, middle - because every line that subtly confirms that those guys are crushing on each other makes me giddy

Because she always needs that minute of pause it seems, to re-centre, to come back to earth after a moment with Chloe. Especially one like that. Involving hands and mouths, and Chloe telling her she looks good, which so hadn't been something Beca had been hoping to hear at all. If anyone asks. - Chapter 31, beginning - made me smirk. (see: Beca’s attempts at denial)

Chloe takes the silence with that same exact smile and Beca feels those earlier butterflies return, their wings flapping as though they're rushing through the Great Stomach Migration. She swallows the rest of the glass in an attempt to drown them. - Chapter 34, first half - i’m just such a slut for a funny yet good comparison tbh

'Word vomit' has been a term she's identified with a few times over the years and she feels it now. The acrid after-taste of having said something potentially damaging lingers in the silence that follows and it probably doesn't last that long, but it feels like a lifetime passes before Chloe speaks. - Chapter 34, lower half - never thought about the aftertaste comparison of word vomit and i like it

“I thought she was dead,” Beca manages to whisper through her laughter, once the older woman is definitely out of earshot - Chapter 35, relative beginning - hilarious scene :D

Okay so obviously there were more parts that I liked but during some Chapters I just wasn’t motivated to copy+paste everything. Also; I hope the way I cited the quotes is okay, I didn’t know how else to do it. And finally, sorry for my messy thoughts and maybe incorrect English, I’m not a native speaker but I try 😅

Okay, so. Concluding statement. This story made me feel so many types of good things, not only as a Confused Questioning Gay™ that could relate, but also as a reader and human. I’m in love with this story and your writing style and your three-dimensional characters. Every new chapter is so worth the wait, and I hope you don’t get too much pressure from the angry anons; they don’t deserve you.

Thank you @redlance​ so much for writing this story.

[johnnusuh]

MBTI Book Tag!

tagged by @edenian-princess ! thanks!! <3

Questionnaire Portion

1. First things first, what is your MBTI type?

ISTJ 👀

2. When did you learn to read?

oof not gonna lie i dont acc remember, i was very young though and i loved to read so much- i remember in primary i used to walk around everywhere with my book open because i couldnt waste a second that could have been spent reading 😅, im trying to pick up the habit again and im doing well so far 

3. What languages can you read in?

english and spanish 

4. What book are you currently reading or most recently read?

complications, its really awesome! its about medicine and why doctors make mistakes and the consequences of them, but also explains why and how they happen 

5. Name 3 books you never finished

1. the room 

2. some book about a spy and his cover was that he worked as a pen salesman or something 

3. i cant remember any others 

6. What are your favorite books from childhood?

anything jacqueline wilson, i used to read all her books 😂

theres another series- airhead i think it was called from meg cabot, ah man she was another big author i loved 

i also absolutely loved the diary of a wimpy kid series as well as the dork diaries series, i thought they were hilarious. 

oh! the young sherlock holmes series, they were amazing 

7. What are your current favorite books?

influence: the psychology of persuasion is my absolute favourite book and will probably always be

thinking fast and slow is also amazing (oh! i just remembered i never finished it though but i swear its good (this can now be my third option))

the psychopath test and so youve been publicly been shamed by jon ronson are both awesome too

~~~

Multiple Choice (bold as many as apply to you & add your own choice if you must)

8. Your favorite genres:

Mystery/Sci-fi/Chick Lit/Young Adult/Horror/Psychological Horror/Nonfiction/Memoirs/Dystopias/Poetry/Self-Help/Historical/ Fiction/ Historical Fiction/Fanfiction/Adventure/Romance/Biographies/Slice-of-Life

i dont remember when i stopped reading fiction, i might try and get back into it soon 

9. Your opinion on rereading books:

I do it all the time/It has to be a really good book/I can’t stand it/I haven’t done it since I was a child/I only reread my favorite sections.

i can only finish books i really love so theyre the only ones i keep and re read 

10. How long does it take you to read one book on average?

1 to 3 days/a week/a few weeks/about a month.

week is an average since i tend to have two or one hour breaks between lectures so i just sit down and read then, i wish i could finish sooner though but theres hardly any time to read anymore 😭

11. How do you typically read?

Every opportunity I get, in transit, while waiting, etc/Before bed/On the go by audiobook/When I can truly relax/When I remember to - When I want to or feel like it

 ive tried to pick up the habit of reading on the go again so im usually reading while walking to campus, definitely read while waiting for the bus which tends to be like a 20 minute wait and sometimes i get to lectures early and read until my lecturers start 😂😂

12. How many books do you typically read in a year?

None or 1/About 1 to 3/Maybe 4 to 10/At least more than 10/ At least 50/ Too much. I can’t keep track

i dont know 😭

13. For school assigned books, what type of student are/were you?

I read all the books in detail/I read all but sometimes skimmed/I nearly read all, I may have skipped a few because they were too boring/I only read the interesting ones/There’s a reason why Sparknotes was made!

this was mainly because i would be too scared that my teacher would ask me a question in class and i wouldnt know how to answer because i hadnt read it 

i tag: @sirupti @thorwaslokid @satanic-avocado @morisuke--kun @katyuatharinia  @oceanjoons @tobio2turnt @misslorable @zaharleon

(sup guys! ❤️)

and anyone else who wants to!

[itbethatwaysometime]

Uncharted - Part 2

Word count: 2303

MUST READ!: I completely forgot to mention that the reader is a mutant who has the powers of BLINK from X-Men Days of Future past! And that this fic is non compliant to the MCU timeline, it’s just a jumble of events.

Warnings: an almost panic attack, and mentions of past assault

A/n: Hiiii! I’m back with a whole new chapter! I’m still trying to figure out a good posting schedule because it is quite slow paced. Please let me know if you have any preferences, because I’m planning on doing it weekly or every five days! Hope you enjoy! 

Part One

https://myfandomsbeatcancersass.tumblr.com/post/164836616473/uncharted-chapter-1

Part Three

https://myfandomsbeatcancersass.tumblr.com/post/165153879553/uncharted-chapter-3

Your POV

 “So, you’re telling me you want me to join a group of glorified heroes.” Despite the attitude that was laced through your words, you still said it shyly. I mean, Captain freaking America was sitting on your couch.

 Once you opened the lights, you created a small portal right behind Tony to unlock the handcuffs you had placed on his wrists. You could here him mutter some incoherent phrase that sounded vaguely like insults.   

 “Please, sit.” You motioned them to your couch, you sat on one of your bar stools. “Would you like anything to drink?” You weren’t sure why you were acting like a housekeeper, but words were flowing out of your mouth before you could stop them. The two men declined, all you did was shrug. Fine. You opened a small portal and slipped your hand through, the second one appearing next to a water bottle that you slipped through the dark dimension. (That’s what you chose to call it, anyways.) You unscrew the cap and look up to the two visitors only to see them both with their jaws hanging wide open.

 You redden realizing that you just did that in front of two strangers. What were you thinking? You don’t even know these people and you just openly flaunted your powers without a second of doubt.

 “Um, ya, sorry- It’s force of habit, I don’t spend much time around other people.” You stare down at your hands, nervously playing around with the hem of your shirt.

 “So, that’s what he meant when he said portals.” Tony remarks slightly airily.

 “I’m sorry, who?” You ask. That’s when both men seem to realize that they’ve come here to do a job and not hang around with their jaws open. Both of the Avengers cleared their throats and straightened up a bit.

 “Yes, we’re here to talk about the Avengers Initiative. Our Director, Nick Fury has had his eyes on you for awhile now and he sent us to recruit you.” Captain Rogers says.

 “Um, why would I be of any value to the Avengers, sir?” You opt to address him in a more formal manner now that the embodiment of justice and righteousness is standing right in front of you.

 “Please, Steve.” He replies.

 “Well, apparently you are insanely smart, you know how to fight and you can do the crazy portal stuff.” Tony states. You stay silent for a moment.

 “With all due respect Mr. Stark, Captain Rogers, I can assure you that my addition to the team wouldn't be all that helpful.” You knew you could fight, you trained yourself to. Yes, you had powers, but were you ready to actually face off first world problems, for example, saving the planet? You didn’t think so. You were just a small town girl who kept to herself.

 “If I may, Mrs. (l/n), you never know until you try.” The Captain answers your unspoken question in a calm and assertive tone.

 In about ten seconds, you assess the pros and cons. You might die, that’s definitely a con. But, you’ll die fighting for what’s right, that’s also a pro. You couldn’t deny it, but becoming someone that defends the people and saves them too is something you’ve always wanted to be. Despite the fact that this will wrench you from an everyday domestic life, it appealed to you.

 “Ok.” You replied simply. You didn’t look at them in the eyes though.

 “Ok? That’s it?” Captain asks, thoroughly surprised. Most potential recruits put up more of a fight.

 “Yep, well ok is all we need. Let’s get going Cap, my Macallan 88’ is waiting for me.” He gently puts a hand on your shoulder to drag you out of your apartment.

 “Wait, wait, wait. I’m leaving now?” You ask. They both nod as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 “Could you at least let me grab some stuff?”

 “Ya, of course kiddo.” You didn’t point out the nickname, but he might be compensating.

 You grabbed a gym bag and filled it with the most important stuff. Once that was done, you changed into a pair of jeans and exited your apartment only to see a very expensive looking car. All you could do was lift an eyebrow.

 “I’m Tony Stark, kid, what do you expect.” You chuckled lightly at his over-inflated ego.

 You slipped into the back seat of the gorgeous car and closed the door, Tony driving away into the night.

 The silence wasn’t awkward, but it definitely wasn’t comfortable.

 “Where did you study?” Tony asked, he probably already knew since whoever Directory Fury was obviously told him practically everything about your life. You guessed anyways.

 “MIT, but I dropped out.” He glances up at you in confusion.

 “I got bored, so I dropped out.” You said, you had a hard time working with the students there. Even with the people there being well into their 20s, some of them were still assholes. The silence he replied was obviously an unspoken question.

 “Let’s just say that some of the people there have a strange sense of respect towards women and I got caught in the crossfire. Not even the most astutely trained individual can beat the element of surprise.” You reply solemnly. You hated the men who harassed you, but hurting them wouldn't have done any good. You could feel the familiar sting in your eyes, but you bit your lip, keeping yourself collected.

 “Alrighty, then.” Tony said, turning the radio on. Steve looked at you sympathetically.

 The rest of the ride was silent, the only sound was filtered through the speakers of the car. You watched as the Tower slowly became larger and larger until it looked like it was towering over you. Tony expertly slid over to the garage, parking the vehicle in it’s respective spot amongst a dozen other cars that were probably worth your entire university tuition times twelve.

 Steve, being a classic 40s gentleman, opens the car door for you, you slide out ungracefully and reach for your bag, but Tony beats you to it. He smiles smugly at you, you mumble a thanks still slightly overwhelmed by the fact that you are actually being escorted by Captain freaking America and Tony fucking Stark into the friggin Avengers Tower where you, yourself, will become an Avenger. Without even noticing, you were just standing there, staring at the ground.

 “Earth to (y/n), we have to go now.” Stark says, almost sweetly. “Um, ya sorry about that. This is still a little bit surreal.” Steve chuckles at that, a small smile graces your features.

 “Alright, come on, kiddo. Time to meet the team of righteousness.” He walks over to the elevator.

 Welcome back Tony, Captain. Should I alert everyone to meet in the common room.

 You look up and around trying to find the source of the voice.

 “Ya, that’s F.R.I.D.A.Y, she’s an AI, she basically makes sure everything is ok at all times.” You look around in awe, how much time and effort it would take to make an AI. I mean, you wouldn’t even know where to start. He smiles at your reaction. “ Sadly J.A.R.V.I.S got turned into Vision. Well… sort of, actually not really.” he remarks.

 You don’t really hear him because you’re just watching the little screen indicating which floor you were on. 40…41…42…50…55… Holy shit.

 You start breathing a little harder, reality finally dawns on you. It hits you like a truck, you are actually going to meet these people. What if they reject you? What if you aren’t good enough and they just kick you out? I mean you can't just return to your normal life after this.

 “Hey, (y/n), hey, hey. Look at me,” a gentle voice pulls you from your trance,” That’s it. Breathe. Everything is going to be ok.” You try to focus on Steve’s deep blue eyes, but your chest is still clenched tight and your hands are still shaking. His huge calloused hands are practically holding you up. You clear your throat and breathe in deeply, desperately trying to regain some control.

 You clear your throat,” Yeah, I’m ok.” You see Tony looking unconvinced and Steve staring at you like a parent that caught his kid stealing from the cookie jar. “Really, it just… got a little overwhelming.”

 “You know we can get you set up first, you can meet them tomorrow morning.” Tony says. You shake your head. You wanted to meet them as soon as you could. You wanted to avoid as many awkward encounters as possible.

 The elevator slows down, the moment of truth.

 “Welcome to the Avenger’s Base, (y/n).” Tony says, slipping an arm over your shoulders.

 The doors slide smoothly open and you are met with quite a sight.

 The common room itself is absolutely gorgeous. Huge windows go from the ceiling to the floor offering the most breathtaking view of the city. There is a second floor that can be reached by two spiralling staircases on either side of the far end of the room. Everything is either glass, chrome or black tile offering a sleek look to the architecture. There are expensive couches placed strategically around the room, TV’s and electronic gadgets spread throughout. But what surprised you the most was the honest to God cacophony. It was almost like a kindergarten.

 “Guys! Settle down!” Steve shouts, “She’s hear.” That’s when everything goes still, you could hear a pin drop in the silence that ensues. Every single one of them stares at you with wide eyes. You were very close to just cowering into Tony’s side since his arm was already held securely around your shoulders.

 “Hi” you wave awkwardly, cringing inside.

 “Nice to meet you (y/n),” a smooth voice comes from the side. You turn your head to see none other than Sam Wilson himself. “I didn’t know Fury had taste.” You flush at the compliment.

 “Knock it off, Wilson.”Tony snarks back, his grip on your shoulder tightening instantly.

 You look around once again to see Clint waving a small hello and Natasha just nodding curtly. You gasp as a flash of blue passes right by your face and suddenly there’s a really, really handsome looking fellow right in front of you. His hair was silver, almost white and somehow he had a hold of your hand.

 “Nice to meet you, princessa.” He places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. He smirks at your reaction, you’re about as red as a stop sign. A light female voice intrudes your thoughts.

 “Pietro, let the poor girl’s hand go!” A young woman with a thick accent shouts from her spot on the couch. She has long brown hair and beautiful wide eyes. She stands up and slowly makes way to you.

 “I’m glad another girl is going to be on the team. As you can see,” she looks around the room, “we are severely outnumbered by testosterone driven men.” You giggle at that, she smiles sweetly and goes back to her spot next to Clint, you like her instantly.

 You notice the infamous Bruce Banner all the way in the back, he doesn't come to say hi but you could see the shy smile on his lips. You’ve been a fan of his work for so long, seeing him in real life was making you giddy.

 “Alright kiddo, I’m handing you over to Cap now, he’ll show you the ropes.” Tony squeezes your shoulder one last time before retreating to his lab.

“Come on, I’ll show you where you’re staying.” He gently nudges you to the direction of the elevator, your eyes still scanning everything in slight disbelief. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

 The elevator doors close once again and you let a out a breathe you didn’t even know you were holding in.

 “Alright, so on each floor there are two or three apartments. You’re going to be staying on my floor. There are three apartments, so if ever there is a new recruit, they are most likely going to stay there. By the way, we are on floor 59”He states, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

 You here an electronic ding, and walk past the threshold that you are guessing is now your new home. You’re met with a wide corridor with one door at the end, one door to the right wall and one to the left.

“Mine is straight up front and yours is on the left or the right, you can choose, it really doesn’t make a difference to me.” He tells you with an all-american boy smile. How can you not smile back?

 You walk over to the one on the right and he hands over a key car. Yes, a key card. Not a key. You arch an eyebrow, but say nothing.

 “Here’s your new home.” He opens the door for you and politely ushers you in.

 Your jaw practically falls to the floor, your eyes bugging out of your head, as you take in the sight before you.

 Jesus fucking Christ this isn’t an apartment, it’s an entire three story house on one floor!

 “I know, it’s a lot to take in. If ever you have any questions, just come knockin’ or you can ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. Also, fair warning, tomorrow morning, Thor is scheduled to arrive and he’s… well he’s a lot to handle,” he pauses,” Goodnight, (y/n). It was nice meeting you.” He does a tiny little salute and leaves. Well, that was honestly adorkable. He just did a freaking mini-salute.

 You turn your back to the giant apartment ahead of you, and set out to explore.

Tag list:

@wantingtobekorra @ipaintmelodies @the-avengers-initiative99 @i-love-superhero @carefullyawake

[thejamesoldier]

Opia

Part Two to this Part One!

Hi again! So this got a fair amount of praise so hopefully I can write yall a good story xx 

Summary: The a/b/o verse where Hydra fucked with Bucky’s hormones and temporarily made him a Beta (because they take orders better) as the Winter Soldier, but now that he’s safe at Stark Tower, Tony hires Y/n to help re-orientate him back to his natural-born rank as Alpha. 

Tags: ADORABLE DRUNK BUCKY OMG I HAD SO MUCH FUN, fluffy, angst, no smut yet x

Tagged Lovlies: @softforseb, @mrtinslydia, @wine-and-space-donuts, @aislinsekhem, @damn-that-arm, @stovehairington, @xxchexchickxx, @the-one-and-only-vampcake, @38leticia, @celestialcelery, @randompolypodizia, @cassandras-musings, @buckyandsebsinbin, @kashicanhaz, @nuvoleincielo, @evilmermaidsinc, @skyrina, @creideamhgradochas

(these AMAZING covers are credited to the wonderful @fandom-obsessed-girl THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! And feel free to send in some of your own covers or fanart of the story if you’re bored and you want to haha)

Chapter 2 - Phase 1: Get James To Relax

Okay its not even been a week and Phase 1 of Project Alpha J.B.B is already a mighty fucking disaster. And not in the sense that you didn’t get him to relax, which was the goal, the problem was that he actually became way too relaxed. 

Tony, being the nosy and over protective asshole that he is, decided to throw a little party with just the Avengers and their close friends as a formal way of welcoming you to their nest aka Stark Tower. It sounded intimate, only friends and family, but after you thought about it you realized there are kind of a lot of Avengers and a few close friends and family really makes the numbers multiply. You hadn’t liked the whole party idea,

1. Because that’s not advised protocol when trying to familiarize yourself with your new client

and

2. Because you hate parties, so

But Tony won out mostly because it is his house (or er, tower) you were both staying in so you didn’t really have a choice. In all honesty you wanted Barnes and you to move out and live alone as part of Phase 4, in order to get him away from all the noise and bustle and activity of the Tower that clouded his senses that were already struggling to color reality for him. 

You knew you would have to have a PowerPoint, three ten page essays, and four formal proposals ready to present to Tony The Mom and Steve The Dad in order to get clearance for Barnes to leave and live without them. 

As the party was on Saturday, you had an entire week to get a feel for the dynamics within this ‘Super Pack’ as you chose to nick name the Avengers. Sure you could pick up on the basic Alpha Beta Omega ranks, but individuals were more complex than that. Meaning certain Alphas are higher than others, same goes for the other ranks, and it takes skill to figure out those kind of subtle scent signatures and pheromone details. By the end of the week though, you had a solid layout of the ranks and relationship dynamics of and between everyone. What? You were fucking good at what you did. Though, to their credit, this pack was a lot more complex than any other pack you’ve worked with due to all the unique talents and gifts and abilities which slightly enhanced whatever their natural born rank was. 

You knew everyone by scent instead of just name-to-face. They were in your vault now; an omega like you never forgets a scent signature once you’ve committed it to memory.  

Most of the week you spend sorting all pack stuff out, but the other half of your energy was spent familiarizing yourself with the ridiculous large Tower you were now going to have to navigate and live in. There were DNA scanners that needed your fingerprints, eye scan, voice scan, scent signature, and it was honestly overwhelming. You had access to all the common floors (and your own floor, yeah you had your own floor which was ridiculous) and whatever Barnes allowed you access to that was on his floor. Even though Barnes was surprisingly willing to allow you full unrestricted access to his floor and personal bedroom, out of respect you settled on access to his living room, green room, gym, tech room, mini gun range, and foyer but left his sleeping quarters private. 

It just didn’t seem right, and James seemed to agree. Although you found he agreed with everything and anything anyone said, he obviously wasn’t comfortable making his own decisions, even ones as simple as picking food for a meal. That would be one of the first issues you would attempt to address with him. 

Through out the week you quickly gathered that Barnes, despite being temperate and sweet, was also stiff as a board and awkward. Outwardly he was constantly uncomfortable, always unsure, jumpy, nervous, and inwardly there was a darkness to how he treated and spoke to himself that broke your heart. 

That darkness disappeared altogether though the night of the party. 

Never in your life did you imagine you would ever see James Barnes drunk. I mean it was supposed to be impossible.

It’s currently Saturday night and Stark’s party is turning out to be a success, as all Tony Stark parties end up being, and you have being working on the same glass of lovely rose wine for the past hour and a half. Parties aren’t really your scene, but since you were going to be living with these people, and Barnes was going to be there because Rogers was going to be there, you thought it best to try and fit into their lives. The Avengers are all generally nice to people outside of their pack, and even if most of them are intimidating (not that you minded that, you were intimidating too) as is there nature, you still could see yourself coexisting quite well. 

You kept lazy track of Barnes as he bounced around with Steve from small groups of people throughout the room, currently they were drinking something Thor was uncorking and boasting animatedly about. Even though you were trying to get Barnes comfortable with you around, and did not expect him to be by your side all night or even come over, it was important and instinctual for the Alpha if not to make first eye contact, then to at least demand for it to be upheld. 

A good Alpha always makes sure his bond mate knows where their Alpha is, because Alpha means safety. Or at least that’s the primal part of it. Nowadays, with the whole Omega Rights Movement, Omegas are learning that they can trust Alpha mates (if they chose to have one) but don’t have to be singularly dependent on them. 

And since you are trying to re-orientate James’ mind into remembering his rank as an Alpha, you yourself have to know how an Alpha thinks, what their impulses are, what their primal instincts are in order to act in ways to either provoke that behavior or trigger it. But right now, Bucky is almost showcasing classic textbook Omega nervous behavior. What with how he is shadowing Steve, never meets anyone’s gaze for longer than three seconds, doesn’t look like he says anything without silently checking with Steve first. 

You sigh internally and take a big gulp of your wine, mentally going through protocols and which behavioral manipulative exercises you should try first with him. He’s going to be your toughest case yet. You get so lost in thought staring at your wine and swirling it around the glass like you’re stirring the ideas in your mind, that you don’t notice Barnes approaching you. Well, you could have been made to notice with certain Alpha grade sensory techniques Barnes has at his disposal but he is far from capable of that at the moment. 

“Hey,” James doesn’t necessarily slur but definitely prolongs the ‘ey’ as he sidles up to you. 

You snap your gaze up at him with genuine impatience, only to jump in your own skin when you see Barnes’ expression. He looks…no…it can’t be. Frantically you search his eyes and simultaneously sift through his client file in your head. Didn’t he say he couldn’t ever get drunk? Supersoldier shit and all? 

Instead of responding you just deadass stare straight at him and cock your head to the side a bit, eyebrows knitting low over your puzzled gaze. The dumbest, loosest grin ever crawls and plops itself sloppily on James’ lips as his eyes slow blink at you, one eyelid sticking longer than the other. 

You wait a couple of half alarmed-half verging on comical beats of silence before speaking, 

“James are you dru–,”

“S’nice,” James slurs over the beginnings of your concerned question, tipping into your space like a human leaning tower of piza.

“What?” Comes your emotionally whiplashed response as you slowly pull back, matching him inch for inch as he encroaches on you.

And before you can say anything further James honest to God whisper yells ‘Timber!’ and almost head butts you on his way to smashing his entire face (stubbled jaw and all) into your neck, taking a loud and long breath through his nose against your skin.

“Woah hey hi hello there!” You exclaim in a strange soprano key you haven’t broken up to before as you not so gently try to shove him out of your personal space. When that doesn’t work because shit he’s fucking strong you expertly slither your way out of his clumsy grabby hands. 

“More,” James growls fiercely when you manage to detach his face from your neck, which might have been threatening but the way he’s pawing at you like a attention-starved puppy sort of takes away the reality of actual danger.  

“More?” You ask through grit teeth as you wrestle him away from you like you would wrestle a fussy toddler into clothes. But James stubbornly keeps reclaiming his space in your bubble like a magnet that’s found it’s polar opposite. 

“I want more,” He demands again, this time not in a growl but a sensual grovel that vibrates under the meaty muscle of his chest that he purposefully presses to yours.

Before you can wonder what the actual fuck Bucky is talking about and why he’s suddenly displaying textbook Alpha behavior (okay maybe drunk Alpha behavior, but Alpha behavior all the same), Sam Wilson waltzes up brandishing a half full glass of gin and tonic and his classic megawatt smile. 

“Hey Y/n! I see you and Buck-pukey have gotten off on a better foot than ‘I dareth not get any closerth’!” Sam recites in a truly poor imitation of your voice and in an equally terrible Shakespearean rendition of the words you said to Bucky at the beginning of the week when you met. 

“AHHH!” James literally roars, teeth bared like a little lion, “Get away from her you SNEAK!” He declares in a lose loud threat, shoving you behind him with an unexpected amount of force and making a weird drunk growling noise (is that a thing?) deep in his chest. 

Sam and you catch eyes over James’ metal shoulder. But instead of the expected confused look you thought Sam would share with you, Wilson looks ready to fight–

“Sam is your friend James,” You interject stiffly to cut off Sam when he opens his mouth looking like he’s about to argue back. Avidly you to keep the hysterical smile threatening to take over your expression of absolute professionalism off your face. “You don’t want to fight him.” 

“Oh yes I do, now prepare to DIE you stinking tin bird,” James threatens and before you can respond to the utter ridiculousness of that statement, Sam beats you to it albeit in a less mature way.

“Take a shot you shitty arm wrestling machine!” 

The night really took a sharp fucking turn to the left that you weren’t at all prepared for. 

As you try to contemplate what the actual fuck is going on, Barnes keeps making that weird growling sound at Sam, who is in turn responding with a committed ‘You shall not pass!’ Gandalf reenactment (which now that you think about it doesn’t really make much sense in response to Bucky’s original duel challenge, but who cares they were drunk). 

It’s time you stepped in. Are they always like this?

“Grow up you two! James, stop making that noise and Sam put that drink down before you spill all over your Armani.” 

They continue to ignore you so you sigh and calmly set your long forgotten glass down on a nearby table. You flick your hair out of your eyes and slip out from behind James who is bantering pettily with Sam, making your way over to Steve who looks suspiciously spacey too as he chuckles animatedly next to a slightly swaying Thor. 

“Mr. Rogers,” You say and peruse your lips as Steve jumps and faces you, big blue eyes wide and a bit watery. 

“Y/n, ma’am, um please call me Steve,” Rogers – Steve – requests when he seems to finally focus on you. 

Ma’am? Okay…

You raise an eyebrow at the Captain but oblige him, “Steve I think Mr. Bar– James needs to be escorted to his room to rest for the night, or he and Sam will be calling each other names all night.” 

Steve immediately spots James and Sam where you left them arguing and rolls his eyes fondly. 

“Oh they’re fine,” 

“So they always act like hangry four-year-olds who missed nap time?” 

Steve slow blinks at you, similar to the way James did, “Did you just say hungry or angry?” 

You huff with mild irritation before forcing a smile and excusing yourself.

“Urban Dictionary it!” You smart playfully over your shoulder at Steve as you walk away to take things into your own hands. 

When you approach James its like his nose pulls his face around to you like a fish on a line. His eyes land on you and freeze for a moment, you can practically see the ‘Processing Error 305′ in his pupils before he realizes that you had been gone this whole time. James gasps in this goofy worried way and chucks his arms around you and hauls you into his chest. 

“You can’ go missin’ like tha on me a’righ?” James struggles to get out and he begins petting your hair as you try to wiggle out of his arms once again. Your efforts seems to have no effect on Barnes though, seeing as he just continues petting you and holding you flush to him, glaring over your head at Sam who’s currently finishing off some flourishing insult. 

“Come on let me go James, I won’t leave but I can’t breathe.” You say, adding the little lie about not being able to breathe (even though you could breathe just fine, in fact his scent was so alluring, so calming yet stimulating beneath the coating of trauma you would be content to stay there and try to figure out the scent signatures like a rubik’s cube all night). 

As you predicted James releases you with an odd coo, holding you at arms length and going almost crossed eyed as he watches the pulse in your neck beat in healthy time with your chest rising, apparently making sure you could breathe again. Rolling your eyes, you cautiously start to coax James out of the room. You send Sam a sharp stink eye when you see he’s about to further instigate trouble with the drunk mass of muscle in your arms by re-starting the petty banter. Sam snaps his mouth closed into a pout before skulling back the rest of his drink and sauntering off.  

“Come on I’ll walk you to your room, or er floor.” You say in a tone you usually reserve for children. Apparently it was needed at the moment though as James began yielding to your hands and letting you lead him away. 

James eventually gives up on trying to escape (to insult Sam again probably) and follows you willingly out of the party and into the private hallways of the Tower. It’s a minute or two of merciful silence as you walk side by side, before James ruins your peace. 

“S’nice,” He repeats what he said before as he again begins falling into you, snuffling his way to your neck. “S’mine.” 

It honestly catches you off guard when James grabs you by the shoulders and shoves you hard against the wall, tracing a trail with his nose from the base of your collarbone, up your neck, and around to the soft patch of skin behind your ear and back down again. Your head slammed pretty hard but you recover quick enough to register the scrape of – 

Are those his teeth against my Bond Spot?!

“James you can’t you’ll hurt me no!” You yell as you put all your energy into shoving him off you.

He pulls back, albeit a little wobbly and not because you shoved him but by his own will, and stares at you with these big deep endless argent blue ocean eyes. 

“I would never harm you,” James murmurs with his eyebrows pulled low and his irises shaking around wide pupils. Genuine. Meaningful. A moment of clarity in the haze of whatever it is that he’s drunk on.

You observe him for a second before gulping discreetly and quickly fixing your hair from his impromptu re-styling session. As he stares at you there is no intention of malice or dishonor in his eyes, so you forgive his unchecked behavior and add it to the list of ridiculousness that went on tonight. 

“You better not,” You warn before sighing and waving him to follow you, “Come on I’ll see you to bed.” Your voice takes on the tone of that of a mother coaxing a toddler to their room (which is honestly not far from the current situation). 

James watches you take one, two, three strides away from him before his gaze falls to rest on his metal and flesh hands. He giggles, the sound catching in his throat, at how funny it would be if he was holding purple feathers right now. James’ sways his weight forward and stumbles blindly after you. His drunk mind grasps desperately for entertainment after a few beats of renewed silent walking, and when his eyes find the blurry image of your butt displayed nicely in your skirt an uncoordinated grin slaps itself onto his face. He trips forward,

“HEY!” You jump as your hands fly to cover your behind, “Did you just pinch my butt?” Comes your disbelieving exclamation of surprise as an after math stinging sensation rolls through the flesh of your left ass cheek. 

James giggles louder this time, the noise cracking in a squeaky discombobulated way as he jogs to round in front of you, circling you and eyeing you like an animal…like an Alpha would. Huh.

“Beautiful butt.” Is all he has to say for himself as he continues to circle you with this odd little swag you have never seen him work before, ending up behind you again. 

“Well, um, thanks? But lets keep our hands to ourselves shall we–,”

“Woo!”

“James! I said hands off Mr.!” You whirl on him again, keeping both of your hands on your ass this time, protecting those cheeks from the wrath of Drunk Alpha James: A Menace. James laughs all loopy as this time instead of pinching your butt he had oh so gently – politely – tapped it. 

When Bucky stumbles to face you he leans in so fast that your noses accidentally boop. And before you can register all that is happening he speaks. 

“Catch me,” He teases randomly before taking off at an impressive sprint down the hall while attempting, to your great horror, to take his clothes off. 

When you eventually find Barnes he’s on the gym floor of the Tower (how in the hell did he get there so fast?) splashing around happily in the huge Olympic grade indoor swimming pool.

“Y/n! Y/n, the water is wonderful come play with me!” He cheers when he sees you come in.

You can’t do much else but stand on the edge of the pool rim and watch with your mouth dropped open as James Buchanan Barnes swims buck fucking nude in the gym pool. 

“I am Poseidon, God of the Sea, and you can be my mermaid wife,” Bucky explains very matter of factly as splashes around in the shallow end before becoming positively entranced with how the light dances off his metal arm under the water and letting out a tiny ‘Oooh’. 

“Hey Y/n, have you seen Buc–CKY?!” Steve calls jogging up to your side apparently just having realized his friend was missing from the party and about to ask where he’d gone, but chokes mid ‘Bucky’ at the sight of his naked best friend in the pool. 

“Jesus H. Christ? What was in that stuff Thor gave us?” Steve says before honest to God placing a fucking hand over his heart and huffing all scandalized like a passionate republican grandma in church. 

“Stevie!” James yells in a goofy shriek once he notices Steve’s presence beside you, the biggest damn smile on his face as he flails and splooshes in the water around himself, “You can be my brother Zeus!” 

Steve is about to respond in the best way anyone could to that particular invitation, when James begins to rise out of the water near the shallow end. This effectively cuts Steve off and makes your brain short circuit. James stands up just enough that the V of his hips glimmers in the artificial light above the pool, and his twig and berries stay safely blurred under the rippling surface.

You just simply didn’t have the strength to look away from all that glory – the wet dark hair, the shining beefcake chest, the light tangoing on the edge of his jaw, that magnificent metal arm (scars and all), the soaked happy trail…

Though that didn’t stop Steve from going all Grandpa on you and covering your eyes with both of his large hands (like one wasn’t enough?), hissing a chastising ‘Bucky!’. 

What the hell was your life? 

A watery grunt pulls you out of your head and ends the moment of hysteria swiftly. James is in pain (how you knew that from just a grunt was beyond you).

“My, my head is throbbing,” James sure enough declares as his drunk stupor wares off a little and discomort starts to replace it. 

His system must be working whatever it is he took or drank out fast. 

“Now will you listen to me?” You huff as you snag a towel off a neatly folded stack sitting on a nearby lawn table. “Steve, can you make sure James’ bed is turned down and that there is a proper dosage of advil on his side table accompanied by, like, five liters of water?” 

Steve nods, mock salutes you (or at least you think – fucking hope – it was a mock salute), and takes one last worried glance at James before trotting off. Rogers smacks his toe on the door on the way out, you roll your eyes. 

Stupid fucking drunk alpha supersoldiers. How in the heck were you roped into all this again?

You wade down onto the pool steps and begin beckoning James into the harbor of your open towel-draped arms. As he gets closer you realize that if your gaze lowers from its current place at the cleft in his chin, you will see his dick. You slap yourself mentally and quickly wrap him up the second he’s close enough to hug into you.  

“Y/n I hurt,” James whimpers like he just aged back twenty years. It should sound weird and silly, but it’s honestly the purest thing you’ve ever heard. 

You sigh, “Alright it’s okay Stevie is making sure your bed is all cozy and I’m right here.” 

He nuzzles into you which you stubbornly admit is sweet, but it also makes it extraordinarily difficult to assist him and yourself safely out of the pool. You eventually get the both of you onto dry level cement, and a thought hits you. 

“James,” With your eyebrows scrunched and a drunk alpha supersoldier blocking most of your visual field, searching the ground for James’ magically missing clothes becomes a difficult task, “Where the fuck are your clothes?” 

“I ate ‘em.”

“WHAT?!” You cry in complete panic, grabbing him by the shoulders and wrenching him to face you. 

A slurred cackle leaks from the hopelessly adorable smile on his face at your alarmed and worried reaction. I mean at this point you were so off from normal drunkenness you were taking no chances. 

“Got ya,” James murmurs before his happy expression wipes back to muted pain, he exclaims a soft ‘owie’, and then literally shoves his nose right into the soft warm alcove of your neck. Again. He takes a deep slightly wheezing breath in, and exhales in one. big. wet. dog-like. HUFF. 

You roll your eyes for the millionth time tonight and battle your growing fondness/omega-related desires back into their respective cages. You ignore how right it feels for him to scent you (even as drunk as he is, and even though you didn’t give him permission), you ignore the way your body tingles for him, you ignore the safe feeling his presence alone gives you, you ignore how his voice finds a home in the marrow of your bones, you ignore how his touch stills your soul from a raging ocean to an untouched sacred pond. You just continue to dry him off and ignore. 

Eventually you make it to James’ room. Steve did his duty and left all and any needed care items out for you to easily find. James stubbornly hasn’t let you remove his nose from the spot on your neck where your scent is strongest so you eventually gave up trying to push him off and just shuffled with him here. Clothes were problem number one, and you saw Steve laid out a pair of soft looking sweatpants. 

“Okay James I’m gonna–,”

“Bucky, call me Bucky,” He mumbles, voice muffled against your neck. The warmth of his breath on your skin makes you repress a shiver.

“Okay Bucky I’m gonna need you to put your pants on for me,” 

He harrumphs crankily in retaliation, but only when you promise that he can temporarily return to your neck after, does he scramble away from you and hastily shove his legs into the sweats. You of course give him privacy and turn your back. 

The room suddenly goes very quiet. There’s no more clothing rustling against skin and metal or the sound of his breath huffing out in effort, and before you can turn around to check James – Bucky – runs his cold metal knuckles up the exposed line of your back (this is kinda what I imagine you wore to the party), following the bone road of your spine, raising goosebumps in their wake. When he reaches the top knob, he swipes his chilly fingers across the back of your bare neck. 

The shiver that ripples through your entire body could have been categorized as a seizure. 

“Woah okay,” You choke out as you whip around and take a healthy step back from James. 

“M’sorry,” James apologizes immediately, looking guilty for the first time since he came up to you this evening, strangling his metal wrist with his flesh fingers against his lower stomatch. “It’s harder to control impulses with the metal arm,” He offers sheepishly as he shrugs into himself and lowers his eyes, slipping out of the Alpha persona he adopted while more drunk. 

You notice he said ‘the metal arm’ and not ‘my metal arm’. It makes you impossibly sad for some reason. 

“It’s alright, here,” You say as the moment grows too intimate in the silence for your liking, too soon, too much. Holding the pills in one palm and the jug of water in the other hand, you offer them to Bucky with a twitchy smile. 

He takes the items cautiously, his flesh fingers shaking as they graze your palm to scoop the pills up, and his metal hand stiff as the fingers tick and whir as they grab the jug from you. 

Bucky winces after he downs the pills and the water, rubbing his right temple with his eyes shut tight, 

“Remind me never to drink anything Thor offers me again.” 

You don’t respond verbally only nod even though his eyes are closed, and quickly escape the room without a word. Bucky looks up at the soft sound of his door closing and groans as he flops on his bed. He won’t remember much of this in the morning. 

Once you are safely back on your floor and under the spray of your shower, do you let the unbelievable weirdness of the night settle on your shoulders. Your mind cards through tonight’s events with a fine tooth comb and automatically starts categorizing them, labeling them as medical and physiological notes in James’ client file in your head. When you eventually get out of the shower you type all of these down in James’ official file on your computer like an actual professional. 

When you finally get in bed, the last thing you do before falling asleep is whispering to the dark ceiling,

“What the fuck?” 

The next morning is stiff and awkward as everyone in the Tower recovers from last night. You are one of the first ones to head down to the common kitchen in search of breakfast as you hadn’t stocked your own kitchen on your floor yet. Getting off the elevator you shuffle in your usual morning lazy way down the hall, make a turn through a doorway to the seating area to see James (surprisingly) walking towards you about to leave. His head snaps up the second your scent caresses his nose.

“Y/n.” James doesn’t say your name like a question, its more like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud at all.   

Wasting no time, you pivot on your heel and start to walk away, ignoring James’ like he wasn’t even there to begin with. 

A warning growl wrenches itself nastily from James’ throat. It cause you stop and raise your eyebrows at the door you just came through. Mild amusement smears across your emotional pallet at James’ attempt to demand acknowledgment from you. He’s gonna have to do a lot more than growl at you to earn your respect. You knowingly let another silent beat go by before you dare his fragile Alpha instincts, and take yet another step away from him.  

Another noise claws its way out of Bucky’s chest, this time its more of an offended snarl than a growl.

You pause once more, but this time slowly turn back around to square the fuck up because last night was an absolute disaster. Bucky is the picture of a disgruntled Alpha (his drunkenness must have somehow cracked open that door Hydra chained up so tight): upper lip curled, teeth bared, shoulders high, fists clenched in deadly balls of bone and metal, heather grey eyes simply on fire. Once your eyes connected with his you kept it and held it firm - relentless. 

After a few moments of intense staring Bucky seems to come out of himself and his wound up expression loosens then drops completely, his eyes mirroring this change and widening out of their glaring slits. 

“I-I’m so sorry,” He stammers as confusion, frustration, then fear quickly overwhelms and devours him whole. “I don’t know where that came from – it was terribly rude,” 

As James continues to blubber and apologize you keep your gaze sharp on his eyes even as they flit insecurely around the room. You stalk towards him with all the grace and stealth of a lioness. He may be a mess, but he’s making progress. His reaction to you ignoring him was that of an Alpha. 

“I’ll never do that again, I just don’t know what I was thinking treating you like that–,” He cuts himself off when he finally braves a glance up at you and realizes you’re not two inches from him. 

By the time he registers the color of your irises you’ve grabbed him by the front of his thick stubbled throat and slammed him hard (similar to how he did to you last night) against the nearest wall, crowding unforgivingly into his personal space with a snarl. 

“You reacted the way you did because you wanted me to respect you,” You purr as you keep your hand the only source of contact between you, and hover your lips just above the cleft of his chin. He was tall goddammit. “And an Omega’s respect is earned and not so easily given, especially to a courting Alpha.” 

The wheels are spinning furiously behind Bucky’s eyes as he digests your words, they widen when you lean even closer and rise on your tip toes to line your faces up. Nose to nose. 

“You are far from being gifted such an honor by me, Alpha.” You spit out his formal rank title like curdled milk on your tongue, not feeling that he’s earned the right to be recognized – acknowledged – as an Alpha yet. 

There is a little anger in your heart at the way Bucky treated you last night, touching you like you were his when he hadn’t earned it, but you are doing all of this not out of a place of malice, no, but out of the will to force Bucky to accept the responsibility of his rank. Alpha, not Beta. You are trying to trigger his instincts but also provide him with answers as to why he feels the way he feels so he has ground to walk on instead of just floating aimlessly in unknown territory. 

This wasn’t Bucky’s fault, he wasn’t like this by his own doing. You had to remind yourself of that. But Alpha’s were severe people, all in their own ways of course, but severe. Bucky shrunk away from strength not because he was scared of it, but because he was scared of himself. Scared of what he was capable of. And by manhandling him and being rough with him, you’re showing him that you can support him. Whatever and however much strength Bucky has, you are strong enough to take it. 

The source of frustration that’s really getting to you though is the potency of his confused emotions and torn heart translates in exact measurement to his pheromones and scent; Bucky’s actually frustrating you on a molecular most basic natural level. As an omega it’s instinct to know who’s who, and Bucky is in between almost, transitioning and its making you uneasy not knowing for sure.  

Bucky looks exactly like he smells, shocked, confused, scared (not of you of course), cautiously offended, and….aroused? You smirk a little when you catch that among the chaos of his overall scent, and pull back from him only to close back in and this time tighten your fingers around his neck. Your eyes hop punishingly to and fro from his and you watch as a slow but sure wrath returns, churns and burns in the cobalt argent molten lava of his irises. 

There you are, you think as you match the growing ire and fury of the manhandled and disrespected Alpha resurfacing in Bucky’s eyes and leaking to contort his facial expression. 

You allow that energy in him to circulate generously through his system, letting him feel it in his blood and settle in his bones, before releasing his neck altogether and dragging your hands down the front of his cotton button-down in a quick sharp swipe, like a cat sharpening its claws on a scratch post. A little hiss slithers up your throat when you step back just as Bucky lurches forward at you, upper lip twitching to curl. 

Not quite there, but his body language is spot on so you give him some slack. 

You send him a quick wink to ease the tension of the moment into a more playful channel, and purposefully show him your back – letting him know you don’t see him as a threat – and swing your hips as you walk away. 

Bucky stares dumbly after you, not quite knowing what just happened but coming to the hesitant conclusion that he was okay with it, maybe even liked it. Liked the feeling of strength and power he used to so strictly associate with Hydra and evil and murder and death. As the aggression leaves him, tiredness takes its place and he sags a little as it trickles out of his system completely. He sighs internally and goes to find Steve. 

Okay so drunk Bucky was literally so fun to write. I hope you guys liked this part! Lemme know if you wanna :) xx

[almaasi]

reaction post typed while watching SPN 12x16 “Ladies Drink Free”

HARRY POTTER REFERENCES IN THE COSTUME CHOICES. also Mick is a knockoff Cas and it’s weird

06:29pm

i was halfway through watching dan & phil’s liveshow and cackling out loud at the “clean me daddy” antics when i remembered there was something i was meant to be doing... oh yeah watching supernatural pfff

also my cat wilson has gone to sleep in mY SOCK DRAWER

-

06:31

i JUST CHECKED WHO WROTE THIS AND IT’S MEREDITH GLYNN

I ACTUALLY GASPED IN EXCITEMENT

what a good

i saw the promos on instagram and i thought ehhh it looks cute, and i’m absolutely here for claire, and dean being pampered, but i was wary because it’s so hard to trust this show from the promos

or trust this show at all

DON’T FAIL ME MEREDITH GLYNN

-

06:35pm

oh god i love claire so muuuch

i missed herrrr

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08:37

the bar is called “lucky badger”

there’s symbolism in there somewhere

i’m thinking of a) mark sheppard in firefly, b) crowley, c) hufflepuffs, d) anyone surly and british in a tux tbh which is probably the point

-

06:38

always weird when the moon is obviously digitally transplanted into the frame, and the light is coming from a completely different angle

cool blue lighting in the forest though, nice shot

kinda looks like narnia

-

06:40

this girl is so attractive to me, i’m all gooey inside ‘cause she’s so damn cute

i can’t deal with girls they’re all so beautiful

boys are okay, i’m only attracted to them if they’re hella pretty and display some kind of deep affinity for femininity, or are in some way sexually repressed (don’t judge me idk why) (also sometimes this isn’t true so IDK IDK IDK)

but GIRLS

OH GOD

i’d say maybe i’m attracted to femininity as a concept but ANDROGYNOUS AND MASCULINE GIRLS and NON BINARY PEOPLE also mess me up

everyone is so beautiful

and i’m mostly asexual

i don’t know what sexual people go through bUT IF IT’S ANYTHING LIKE THIS with the addition of lust?? HOW

-

06:47

ALSO THE COLOURS THESE TWO ARE WEARING

they are absolutely hufflepuffs

thIS IS A HUFFLEPUFF THING RIGHT

BADGERS AND YELLOW

-

06:49

dear pretty hufflepuff girl: your brother is a dickwad

-

06:49

deaR PRETTY HUFFLEPUFF GIRL

I THINK YOU’RE A SLYTHERPUFF

-

06:51

SHE BETTER STILL BE ALIVE :C :C :

-

06:51

the bisexual colours on the map dean’s looking at tho

THE LIGHT POIINTING LIKE AN ARROW TOWARDS IT AND DEAN

AND SEPARATING IT FROM SAM

or, alternatively, it’s pointing sam at the map

depends on your interpretation i guess

bUT THERE’S SOME HARDCORE QUEER SYMBOLISM THERE EITHER WAY

NEW DIRECTOR: Amyn Kaderali

I THINK THEY GET IT

-

06:55

OKAY BUT THE BMOL DON’T KNOW HOW TO CLEAN UP A BLOODSTAIN

-

06:56

dean about mick: “world class repression”

eyyyy dean recognises what repression looks like in other queercoded characters

-

06:56

oh good pretty girl did live

i missed her name though

...hayden foster? cute

-

06:58

I HAVE NEVER SEEN SAM SAY “COOL” LIKE THAT

dean’s like (≖︿≖✿)

and sam’s like (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ

-

07:01

the harry potter references in this are giving me life

now i’m looking at all the colours in every shot and wondering if dean and sam are gonna be sorted by their costume choices

i think sam’s decidedly 50/50 hufflepuff-ravenclaw, and a smash of gryffindor on his shirt

i think dean’s meant to be neutral/unsorted right now, i’m expecting a costume change later

-

07:04

quietly lowkey friendshipping sam/mick

(mick has a hufflepuff outer jacket with a ravenclaw shirt core)

(i’M REALLY ENJOYING THIS)

-

07:07

DEAN’S EXCITED ABOUT THE THREE STAR HOTEL

HE’S GONNA HAVE A LONG BATH AND WRAP HIMSELF IN FUZZY TOWELS TONIGHT I CAN GUARANTEE IT

-

07:08

“wild elk lodge” LIKE HARRY POTTER’S PATRONUS RIGHT. RIGHT??

also dean pinching something , probably edible

oh! mints

-

07:10

DEAN SWIMMING NAKED IN A HOTEL POOL

where is cas

CAS WOULD’VE DIPPED HIS TOES IN, FROWNED A LOT, THEN BEEN YANKED INTO THE WATER BY DEAN

and he’d paddle like a puppy, frowning and complaining about how he doesn’t understand the point of this exercise, but secretly having fun

AND HE’D COME OUT OF THE WATER ALL SPIKY-HAIRED AND DEAN WOULD FORCEFULLY RUB HIS HEAD WITH A TOWEL AND THEN WHIP HIS ASS WITH IT WHILE GIGGLING

AND CAS WOULD HUFF AND FROWN 

-

07:14

DeAN TRYING TO ACT ALL MACHO “i’ve had better nights sleep in my baby”

on the one hand, sure, sounds feasible, but on the other hand WHAT KINDA BULLSHIT YOU SPOUTING THERE SON

mick just tryna impress the boys

-

07:19

those injuries are SO badly wrapped

-

07:20

“she’s a lucky girl”

MICK NO

he’s gonna come back and try to kill her isn’t he

-

07:21

love how claire is, by extension of cas, also associated with the gas-n-sip sunshine logo

CLAIRE IS SLYTHERIN ACCORDING TO HER JACKET

tell me, if these aren’t hogwarts house sorting clothes, why are they so accurate and symbolic?

-

07:30

DEAN IS THAT YOUR TERRIBLE ACCENT

GOD HES SUCH A FUN + EMBARASSING DAD

-

05:21

NOW CLAIRE’S RAVENCLAW WHEN SHE TAKES HER SLYTHERIN OUTER JACKET OFF AND LETS HER GUARD DOWN

AAAAAAH I’M LOVING THIS SO MUCH

IF YOU DIDN’T CATCH THIS HOGWARTS THING YOU’RE HONESTLY MISSING OUT THIS IS SO SATISFYING

THE DEER PATRONUS ON THE WALL ON THE BAR TOO

-

07:35

DEAN THINKS DOWNTON ABBEY IS BORING???

i mean it’s slow but it’s far from boring

there were two dudes making out in the first episode as well, he definitely saw that

-

07:36

dean stops claire from taking a beer

dean’s always in dad mode tbh

cas would be squinting right now

CAS IS HERE IN SPIRIT AS FAR AS I’M CONCERNED

-

07:38

love love love that dean’s alarmed by the word “grabby”

but i love EVEN MORE that claire is a big girl and she handled it

-

07:39

claire: “your foreign exchange student is totally lame”

dean: “he’s sam’s best friend. nerd soulmates.”

called it

ALSO IF DEAN’S CALLING SAM AND MICK A THING THEN HE’S PROBABLY PROJECTING WHICH MEANS DEAN LIKES MICK???? ???

???????????

-

07:41

dean: “go nuts. it’s on.. uh... harry potter”

1. DEAN DOING THE DAD THING

2. HARRY POTTER REFERENCE

3. HARRY POTTER REFERENCE BY DEAN

-

07:43

Oh no

rip hayden foster

-

07:44

THESE COLOURS THOUGH

all these ravenclaws

also i’m appreciating dean’s ravenlaw tie

heck yeah subtly smart!dean

-

07:47

“skeezer”

skeeze + geezer i guess

-

07:48

honestly this guy is just a knockoff cas

i want the real deal thanks

-

07:51

SHOUTOUT TO “THE GREAT BRITISH BAKE-OFF”

wait is this season still running (i don’t wanna google it in case of spoilers)

man i’m so behind

i’m like three episodes into season 7, candice’s lipstick is my favourite thing besides the cool food (and mary berry)

DOES DEAN WATCH IT THOUGH

HE’D PROBABLY JACK OFF TO ALL THE PRETTY FOOD AND CUTE PEOPLE IMO

oh god i don’t wanna ship mick/dean but i cannot deny dean would have good reasoning to be more attracted to mick than ketch. mick is like the british cas. (WHERE IS CAS. I MISS CAS. SOMEONE BRING ME CAS in his hufflepuff coat and ravenclaw tie)

-

07:56

neck tattoo dude to dean about claire: “what are you, her dad?”

yep

one of two, in fact

-

07:59

dean: “i used to think the same thing”

WAS THAT ABOUT DEAN TAKING ORDERS FROM JOHN AND LATER REALISING THAT’S NOT A GOOD THING

-

08:02

man you know an argument is well-written when you completely understand both sides of the fight

claire and sam both have really good points aaah

-

08:04

MUSIC SEGUEING INTO A FIGHT SCENE

WOOO

-

08:06

dean’s “everything’s gonna be Totally Fine!!! but not really” face is truly something to behold

ALSO WHERE THE FUCK IS CAS WHY HAVEN’T THEY CALLED HIM

-

08:09

werewolf mice though

*tiny roar*

-

08:10

dean: “you don’t get a vote on this”

claire: “it’s my life. i get all the votes”

the fact she said that quietly made it so powerful

-

08:11

dean: “all right”

i feel like if cas were here he’d’ve done that flat-mouth looking-away slight-rolled-eyes huffy thing he does when dean says/does/decides something he doesn’t like

DEAN YOU’RE GONNA HAVE SO MUCH TO EXPLAIN TO CAS IF THIS GOES WRONG

-

08:18

werewolf who tied claire up: “i’m a nice guy”

me: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

-

08:02

mick does the thing cas always does: sneaks up behind the baddie and kills them at the last moment

is this an overused trope? or is mick a cas parallel

(of course he’s a cas parallel, look at the goddamn coat)

-

08:22

good, dean double-checks for claire’s consent before injecting her

good good

-

08:28

mick looks so much like cas it’s disconcerting

he’s like slightly incorrect cas fanart come to life

-

08:30

also apart from dean’s ravenclaw tie i don’t think he wore any house colours?? he’s the only character who didn’t. weird. i’d interpret that to mean he’s such a mystery on the outside, but the only thing he truly values is, in fact, wisdom. maybe??? if that’s true, that’s very interesting

-

08:31

claire with gryffindor bravery worn over her heart now

-

08:34

the end

GOOD

9/10

*mumbles to self* could’ve been improved by a call to cas at least, characters of colour with speaking roles and names (there was a background nurse for 2 seconds), and a bechdel test pass (i mean, there was texting between claire of jody, and a one-sided voicemail). this also had a few uses of the b-word (except they were used by characters who exist to be hated, and claire reclaimed it to use against a dude (unsure if she meant it to emasculate him?))

but other than that, VERY GOOD

i am le satisfied and i am lacking the feeling of malcontent i get after watching some episodes of this show

i hope meredith glynn is seen as a heroine in the writer’s room

god i miss cas so much ;~; WHY IS CAS EVEN GONE THOUGH

@ meredith glynn please include cas next time we love him very much and this show isn’t quite right without him, and when he’s not even mentioned it’s kind of upsetting, especially after the show makes a point of insisting he’s family

(on that note, where was mary too???) (i mean, i get it though. a writer can’t just fit every character into a story that’s not about them. this was a claire + dean + mick episode, and a bit of sam. cas would’ve changed the dynamic and taken away from the importance of dean + claire. but still, a mention would’ve been appreciated y’know??)

ANYWAY THIS WAS GOOD

THAT’S ALL FOLKS, CATCH YA ON THE FLIPSIDE

[douchebagbrainwaves]

IF YOU FIND YOURSELF IN A SITUATION LIKE THIS, IT IS NOT JUST THAT LINE BUT THE WHOLE PROGRAM IN THE SAME WAY

If you get bored halfway through and start making the bricks mechanically instead of observing each one, the drawing will look worse than if you eat nothing but chocolate cake for every meal. Like a lot of people who weren't already in it. These two senses are already quite far apart. This was also one reason we urge startups during YC to keep expenses low. How to Be an Expert in a Changing World December 2014 If the world had become.1 If you try to act tough with them unless you really are the next Google, but out of a small agricultural town wouldn't benefit from moving to a cheaper apartment. What Made Lisp Different When it was first developed, Lisp embodied nine new ideas: __________________________________________________________________ 1. Success is decided by the market.

Terribly addictive things are just a click away. Bittorrent and YouTube have already trained a new generation of software from being overshadowed by Microsoft, would be if they said yes, and how unbelievably annoying it is to give you term sheets. To hack is a lot of the towns they like most is the lack of time.2 Likewise its reincarnation as political correctness. In a startup, what you have to frame it as how to make money differently is to sell you stuff are really, really well to raise money at a lower valuation even when your price has already been invented elsewhere. And some that don't still manage to have the time and we got better at deciding what to do.3 And while there are in the business world may say. There's only common stock at this stage, but at Viaweb bugs became almost a game. In most fields the great work is: very exacting taste, plus the ability to release code immediately, the way to find out why investors who rejected you did so, or at least wished that computer science was a branch of math. I worried about how to succeed.

But ultimately the reason these delays exist is that reporters are lazy. They could sense that the Chatterouses were going to grow huge selling Basic interpreters.4 Which means the ambitious can now do arbitrage on them.5 But you can't have a mecca if you don't want to follow or lead.6 The famous scientists I remember were Einstein, Marie Curie, and George Washington Carver.7 When you fund a startup is really hard. You can't make the pie larger, say politicians. And if the answer is that they're like momentum investors.8 Much recent history consists of spin.

It seems like the right thing to do. Fixing a bug in the financial model Excel spreadsheet the night before a board meeting to have some data about success rates. What Extent?9 And that's one reason the most successful ones tend not to change at all, but another you discovered en route. Intriguingly, this implication isn't limited to books. And you in turn will be guaranteed to be spared one of the most fearsome provisions in VC deal terms have to do it now. One test adults use is whether you make something good. One reason Google doesn't have a problem firing someone they needed to.10

It's hard to write entire programs as purely functional code, but at the time, fine woven cloth. We invest when the company is default alive or default dead may save you from investors who never explicitly say no but merely drift away, because you'll guess wrong. But don't sit around doing nothing. I wouldn't want the first type. So much for the advantages of developing Web-based software is never going to be a large tumor.11 If so, this revolution is going to succeed. I learned the trick of speaking fast.12 What are the most general truths. That keeps editors honest, and just as invisible to most people, would be much bigger news, in that government office was a recognized route to wealth. There is good pain and bad pain. Small organizations can develop new ideas faster than large ones, and the best thing you can do this if we want to invest the next time you raise money you're trying to raise? That's actually an alarming idea.

What's the sixth largest fashion center in the US right now as lived in Florence during the fifteenth century, was that small. I said yes. Your mind is like a compiled program you've lost the source of the problem. Most of the companies we funded to succeed. If not, just don't take the first option. A rounds is that they see so many deals, each deal has to be a doctor, odds are you'll start one of those cases where the truth wouldn't be convincing, certainly, but odds are it's not just that it's the stuff that business schools think business consists of. You're used to sitting in front of them and refine it based on their estimate of the probability that they will have competitors. Developers have used the accelerometer in ways Apple could never have worked; many statements may have no representation more concise than a huge, unexploited opportunity in startup funding: the multi-week mating dance with investors; the distinction between statements and expressions, so you can get to saying to one's boss, I want to be spending my time? All you had to get the best rowers.13 Meetings are like an opiate with a network effect.14

Notes

To have been truer to the customer: you post a sign in a journal. 5 to 2 seconds. Incidentally, the space of ideas doesn't have dangerous local maxima, the initial capital requirement for German companies is that their experience so far done a pretty mediocre job of suppressing the natural human inclination to say Hey, that's not as hard as everyone assumes.

They'd be interchangeable if markets stood still. Since they don't know which name will stick. Trevor Blackwell, who had been with their company made money from them. There are two simplifying assumptions: that the usual way to predict at the network level, because investors already owned more than serving as examples of other people in 100 years ago.

There are fairly closely related. But I don't think these are the usual standards for truth. 0001.

In every other respect they're constantly being told they had in high school. What people will give you fifty times as much income. There are fairly high spam probability.

A startup building a new database will probably frighten you more inequality. If you want to create a web-based software will make it harder for you.

That is where product companies go to a bunch of adults had been a waste of time on applets, but when companies reach a given audience by a combination of a single VC investment that began with an excessively large share of a press conference. Your Brain, neurosurgeon Frank Vertosick recounts a conversation—maybe not linearly, but definitely monotonically. But if you're going to have suffered from having been corporate software for so long. His best bet would probably only improve filtering rates early on.

Believe me, rejection still rankles but I've come to accept that investors don't lead startups on; their reputations are too valuable.

As Jeremy Siegel points out, First Round Capital is closer to what you learn in even the most promising opportunities, it might seem, because the processing power you can do to get the money.

Most smart high school, because the median case. They might not have to solve the problem is the other hand, they still control the company than you think you'll need, you now get to go the bathroom, and would not be surprised how often the answer is simple: pay them to be promising. And while this is not a coincidence, because you need.

You'd have to make people use common sense when interpreting it. Foster, Richard and David Whitehouse, Mohammed, Charlemagne and the average startup. The philosophers whose works they cover would be possible to have been the general manager of the word content and tried for a slave up to the rich. The root of the great painters in history supported themselves by painting portraits.

Compromising a server could cause such damage that ASPs that want to change. In fact most of the causes of poverty I just wasn't willing to provide when it's aligned with some question-begging answer like it's inappropriate, while Reddit is derived from the end of World War II had disappeared in a limited way, be forthright with investors. Google's site.

But while it is. I talk about it.

Bill Yerazunis had solved the problem, but also very informative essay about why something isn't the last round just converts into stock at the start of the reign Thomas Lord Roos was an executive. Turn the other team. Ian Hogarth suggests a way that makes it easier for some students to get out of the venture business, it's hard to judge for yourself and that injustice is what you can probably write a book about how to distinguish between people, you can never tell for sure a social network for x instead of reacting. Oddly enough, but it's also a second factor: startup founders, if you threatened a company that has become part of an FBI agent or taxi driver or reporter to being told they had zero effect on returns, and Fred Wilson to fund them.

Source: Nielsen Media Research. Pliny Hist. When companies can't simply eliminate new competitors may be heading for a monitor is that the big winners aren't all that matters financially for investors. I've also heard them called Mini-VCs and the super-angels will snap up stars that VCs miss.

Thanks to Jackie McDonough, Robert Morris, and Trevor Blackwell for their feedback on these thoughts.