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warisaracket777 · 4 months ago

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smart mouth 1

Part 1 of 2.

❣ Professor! Bucky Barnes x F!student

❣ uni au, F! student is in her 20s (she’s meannnnnn to our boy, I’m trying to write an unlikable FMC ok)

❣ cw: this is just the build-up to a pwp ch. 2, mentions of university tenure system (sorry, I’m in academia), political science (derogatory), crackfic

❣ MDNI

❣ Word Count: 8.1 k

❣ Summary: The last year of your university career is spent figuring out your life and bickering with taking out your anger on a the new professor in your department. Completing your degree feels endlessly tedious amongst the pile of bills and low prospects of career advancement. So maybe you let yourself indulge in a little game of catch-and-release with a handsome professor who falls over his own feet trying to keep up with you. But sooner or later the man cracks.

❣ Author’s Note: heavily inspired by a professor I had in an undergrad class on “human rights in the 20th century.” The professor himself was a bit of a fuckwit, but still reluctantly very nice to me against all effort on my part. I just wanted to make him scream.

I honestly won’t ever watch superhero movies but I thought Sebastian Stan’s public personality is quite himbo-ish if not a bit shallow, so he was kind of perfect for this piece. (Sorry to his fans, but ain’t no way that man has read Marcus Aurelius. His copy of the book in that GQ interview advertisement had a perfectly un-cracked spine.)

smart mouth, part 1.

“Miss, would you mind taking those out of your ears, please?”

Dr. Barnes mimed at you with a tight-lipped smile, forefingers and thumbs of each hand plucking out wired phantom earphones. You look up him, cocking an eyebrow and trying not to give a smirk — too early in the class to start challenging the doofus — and repeat his motions back to him, making a show of rolling the wires around your slender fingers before shoving them into your jacket pocket. No need to start today’s little sparring session over such a petty attempt to annoy you.

There would be countless errors in his pedagogy or lecture for you to pick at during the course of the hour, no need to tear into him quite yet.

You pull out your notebook and pen, letting out a loud yawn before leaning back in your seat and hiking your feet up on the seat next to you. You’re front and center, your usual spot in every course. At the computer, Dr. Barnes was fumbling around, trying to pull up another one of his bland presentations that would inevitably regurgitate the reading material. You sigh, leaning back and lacing your fingers behind your head, scanning him as he’s trying to remember his password to his Google Drive.

Begrudgingly, you allow yourself to notice how handsome he was; especially so in today’s sky button down and perfectly tailored slacks. The sleeves were haphazardly rolled up, exposing a few veins snaking up his forearm before hiding again under a bunch of white fabric at the crook of his elbow. You follow along the hard lines, eyes dragging up Dr. Barnes’ muscular form and to his face — that creeping shadow from one or two missed days of shaving, angular lines framing downturned, pouty lips. You wanted to bite into them and see the blood rush to the surface.

“Alright gang, we’re up and running. I hope you all finished the book and the accompanying article about…” You tune him out, reviewing in your head the reading material and finding logical flaws with the arguments, preparing to play with Dr. Barnes a bit as he makes his way through his lesson plan.

Today was a particularly irritating day. Your boss at your part-time nonprofit job spent too much time berating you about incorrectly formatted documents, and you sat in on one too many meetings that should have been one email. Plus, you had a stack of reading you had to do for your lectures this week — for classes that actually nurtured your intellectual curiosity. Running on three cups of coffee, your meds, and a spiteful attitude (you had forgone breakfast in exchange for an extra five minutes of sleep this morning), you had skulked into the humanities building and jerkily settled into your seat without your usual patience. In retrospect, maybe this was why you were more ruthless than usual today. Unfair, if you really thought about it.

Dr. Barnes was a perfectly nice guy, when you were feeling generous. Not particularly bright, but still a hard worker who seemed to like teaching; rigorous intellectual interrogation wasn’t a prerequisite for a PhD, evidently. Armed with a travel mug of tea and that stupid leather messenger bag, he was always exactly five minutes early to class, bright-eyed and bushy tailed and ready to prostrate in front of dimwitted little college students in exchange for the raving course evaluations necessary for tenure promotion. He was overeager, if you were totally honest.

Today, his tendency to prolong out his lecture — lingering on obvious concepts that any high school half wit would have understood — was grating on your last nerve. That slow voice he uses to read verbatim from his presentation slides (a sign of insecurity, in your eyes, that an alleged expert needed notes to prompt his lectures) to the class reminded you of the way adults spoke to you when you were five, shooing you away so you wouldn’t insert yourself into their adult conversations.

You’re leaning back in your chair, feet up on the seat next to you, scribbling a few chicken scratches of notes you have no intention of revisiting when you catch an opening in his lecture to interject. Perfect.

“And so, several scholars in the field have argued that practices in these countries have been unable to achieve the same standard of human rights that we find here in the United States,” Dr. Barnes finishes reading off of his lecture slides and aims a bright, toothy smile at the class. “Any questions before we get to discussion of the material?”

Your hand and a corner of your mouth shoot straight up, smirk deepening when Dr. Barnes’ eyes sweep over the class before reluctantly calling on you. You can almost hear his silent prayer, begging for any other student in the class to speak. You feel that beginning sparkling sense of fated victory bloom when he calls your name.

“So, these scholars…” you begin, voice saccharine and playful, “what methodologies did they use to get to that conclusion?” You start easy, asking a question you know he can’t answer, like circling around your prey pretending to decide whether to go in for the kill.

“Uh, well. I’m sure they used comparative methods and used the United States as a control,” he says, so unsure. Your eyes positively gleam at the opening he’s left for you.

“You’re sure, Dr. Barnes? So you’re saying that the United States gets to define ‘human rights’ in these studies?”

“Yes, that’s explicitly in the lecture today,” he says. Aha. He thinks he can rely on his little notes to save him. Too confident.

“So the United States should be the final arbiter of ‘human rights’ in the international political stage, is that what your lecture is arguing?” Fingers formed in air quotes, you’re practically simpering at this point, staring at his expression — he was too satisfied and sure that he had averted a land mine.

Somewhere behind you, you hear a stifled chortle, which seems to have an unnerving effect on Dr. Barnes. You make a note of how his shoulders have a tendency to tense upward when he’s defensive, when he’s faced with a challenge. So, with pure delight in your eyes as you raise an eyebrow, you challenge him to do something. Anything.

He clears his throat before saying your name, real nervous and slow, gravelly. Almost sexy in how pitiful it was. But you continue to speak, steamrolling right over his short-lived moment,

“Because the United States is famously really good at upholding human rights, right Dr. Barnes?” You relish in that little indignant flash across his baby blues, satisfaction dancing through your body the sight of your professor, squirming under your gaze. You made him squirm, someone who was ostensibly a figure of authority over you; some idiot who, by the skin of his teeth, might be a passable researcher but in no way possessed the chops necessary to be a good teacher.

It was cute, the few false starts Dr. Barnes stuttered through before fake laughing — nervous, pink-tinged cheeks curving upward. You almost wanted to flush yourself, a bit too focused on the scruff of his shadow, wondering what it’d be like for it to drag against your skin.

You blink that image out of your head, poised and ready to give your final contribution to the discussion,

“Weird that this is a lecture about the United States’ role in global politics and not a single reading about imperialism was assigned. Pedagogically irresponsible, if you ask me.” You bless him with your brightest smile, uncrossing your legs and crossing them again in opposite order — the sarcasm and smugness practically drips from your gaze. Dr. Barnes’ eyes flash indignantly, but you don’t miss that swift glance down toward your thighs, exposed under the skimpy hemline of your miniskirt.

The sound of laptops shutting and shuffling zippers and paper draws the both of you out of your staring contest.

Dr. Barnes clears his throat again, running his metal hand through his hair and pushing a few loose locks back from his forehead. Your bratty little demeanor remains undisturbed, and you think maybe Dr. Barnes is holding your gaze just a smidge too long before he tears away from you and back into his surroundings.

“Don’t forget to schedule your one-on-one office hour with me so I can approve your final paper research topics. Instructions are on the syllabus!” His last few words are drowned out by the hubbub of chairs screeching against the linoleum and students filling out the door.

Dr. Barnes turns toward you as you’re shoving your notebook into your bag, his handsome face shadowed in a scowl so childish you almost want to reach out and pinch his cheeks. Almost.

“That was extremely disrespectful conduct, Miss —“

“Hey Barnes, you got a minute?” Dr. Barnes’ fuming was abruptly cut off by a cheery masculine voice. You both turn to see Dr. Rogers — one of these days you’ll be able to snag a seat in his research class.

“Stark is asking everyone in the Department to turn in their syllabi for next semester by end-of-business today,” he continues, “Need you to look over my reading list, Buck.” Dr. Rogers stops for a second, clocking that you’re still in the room and clearing his throat, sheepishly correcting himself,

“I meant Dr. Stark; don’t tell him I forgot the ‘doctor’ part, he’s insufferable,” Dr. Rogers speaks to you, slightly nervous chuckle escaping as he offers you a good-natured smile. You make a gesture of zipping your lips, returning Dr. Rogers’ smile as you turn to leave.

Dr. Barnes looks between you and Dr. Rogers before calling your name again.

Hm. Stern, as if he were about to reprimand you.

“We’ll continue this conversation later,” Dr. Barnes glares at you, clearly loathing that smug look you’ve schooled yourself into maintaining. You make a show out of shoving your earphones in and paying attention to your phone instead of him, happily aware that his eyes were boring into your skull as you turn on your heel and strut out of the classroom.

Flippantly, you glance back through the door, a false little smile lighting up your face as you utter a phrase you know won’t do anything but rile up your professor,

“See ya later, Barnes.”

If the academic utopia is meritocracy, you’ll eat your shorts.

✶

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Meeting re: research topic approval

Hi Dr. Barnes,

Can I stop by your office hours next Monday to talk about my research paper topic?

Thanks.

˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: re: Meeting re: research topic approval

Yes, please stop by on Monday.

Thunderbolt Hall, Room 616.

JBB

✶

You can’t help but snort as you close out of your email app on your phone, a bit taken aback by the bluntness of Dr. Barnes’ response to you. Half of the time, the man couldn’t stammer out two coherent sentences to answer your questions. The other half, his answers, delivered in clipped tones, were so cookie-cutter and shallow that you’d inevitably be left a little bored. Never were his responses so blunt.

Sure, maybe you were tiptoeing on that line between childish iconoclasm and outright insolence, but really, Dr. Barnes was an academic. He should be grateful that you were there to keep things interesting. At least your questions were generative for discussion!

Not that you cared, but did you push him too far during the last lecture?

Whatever.

Shoving your phone into your jacket pocket, you pack up your supplies and stumble from around the floor-to-ceiling bookcase, back aching from hunching over your books for the last two hours. Peter Parker is rounding the corner and bounding toward you as you hike your bag up your shoulder, two to-go cups in his hands. One for you, one for him. Thank God for that kid.

“Hey, Parker,” you relieve him of one of the coffees, glad you didn’t have to waste time picking up a source of caffeine before your next shift at work. “What’s going on?”

“Hiya. Locking in before my date with MJ later,” he takes a sip of his own coffee before slinging his backpack onto the desk and occupying the seat you just vacated — you would have complained that someone was using your sacred library work alcove if it were anyone other than Peter.

“Godspeed, buddy. Tell MJ I said ‘hi’ and that I’ll see her for Book Club next week.” You give Peter a goofy salute, stern face struggling to contain a smile, before making your way through the labyrinthine library stacks toward the more populated work areas in the front of the building.

✶

Bucky Barnes is spending his usual Tuesday afternoon deep in the stacks of the social sciences library, cobbling together research for the manuscript he was working on. Piles and piles of dusty leather-bound books surrounded his work station, which rudely occupied an entire table that could have sat several other library patrons.

That day was particularly irritating. Nothing felt right. The deadline for a draft of an article was looming large, and the pressure to publish as often and as much as possible was slowly closing in on him. Helping Steve formulate two undergrad syllabi proved to be a several hour-long endeavor, so Bucky lost an entire morning that he planned on devoting to catching up on his reading. Too many papers to grade, too many faculty meetings to attend, too many articles to review: Bucky was on the brink of burn out.

Despite the organized chaos that was his life as an untenured academic, a significant chunk of that day’s irritation can be attributed to that fucking smart mouth girl in his first lecture of the day. He’d dealt with his fair share of knuckleheads throughout his few years as a young professor, always with an open mind and a kind shoulder — qualities that he felt were essential for a good educator to possess. But you, he pictured you in his head with a sneer.

It was always something with you —

“Actually, that’s the wrong year, Dr. Barnes,” or

“You don’t sound so sure about that, Dr. Barnes,” or

“Dr. Barnes, are you sure that’s how you want to structure the lecture today?” Of course he was fucking sure. He’d been teaching this course for years and his teaching evaluations were top-notch, no thanks to you and your attempts to shake his confidence. Where the fuck did you get off on questioning his authority?

Bucky had spent maybe the first few weeks of the semester mulling over what he had possibly done to provoke you into being such a thorn in his side.

He supposed the first incident happened when he made the mistake of giving you a 98% on a paper and you had decided to grade grub him into oblivion. He thinks about that moment with a derisive snort. Little Miss Overachiever. Bursting into his office, absolutely incensed that a — and this is verbatim — “second round draft pick hire” had the gall to give you anything less than a 100%, the stones to ruin her perfect record.

If he were being perfectly honest, you were much more intelligent than your peers, and part of him understood that your behavior stemmed from boredom. University hadn’t been particularly challenging for you and it seemed to him that you were fed up with it. Figuring out how to fulfill every student’s needs in the classroom tended to be easy for him — his course evals were almost always glowing with praise for his pedagogy. But you. He just couldn’t figure out how to channel all of your spite into something intellectually productive, not only for the sake of peace in his classroom but because he (quite begrudgingly) wanted you to feel like you learned something. That was his fucking job, for fuck’s sake.

Bucky shakes his head, as if his brain were a goddamn etch-a-sketch and he could erase the image of you, sitting so pretty with that petulant smirk that seemed glued to your face. Without fail, always front-and-center. Ready to taunt him, make him flustered, like he wasn’t good enough to be your academic superior. With a deep sigh and a frustration that didn’t seem to dissipate no matter what he did, Bucky tries to knuckle down to finish his task in the library. He would not let some tiny little know-it-all distract him from his work. A know-it-all with a pretty face.

No. Focus, Barnes…

Bucky had started off that day bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, having completed his departmental duties for the week. He even had the time to edit both his and Steve’s syllabi for the course offerings next semester. His house was spic and span, not a spec of dust or a cat hair out of place — no thanks to Alpine. (Bucky loved that little fleabag to bits but goddamn did she shed like it was her full-time job.) The quiet of his morning routine was perfectly routinized to prep him for the bustle of the day. It was almost ritualistic, the warmth of his coffee mug — “Professor of the Year, 2020” garishly printed in university colors — and an apple as he reads through the queue of journal articles he’s behind on editing. Alpine would undoubtedly be inhaling her food (top of the line, grain-free, high protein, expensive cat food) after screaming bloody murder because her kibble landed in her dish at 7:01 instead of 7:00 am on the dot. After breakfast, Bucky lets Alpine go outside in the yard to chase around the critters in his herb garden, which he admitted was wilting at a faster pace than he’d like. Every so often Alpine would up look at him while he flipped through his textbooks, bright eyes blinking at him slowly as he sat on his porch with his one allotted cigarette of the day.

That morning had proceeded like every other morning, calm and restorative. Nothing was out of place, and Bucky was feeling pretty confident in himself that day. Finally. The stress of working toward tenure was wrapping itself around him like a vice, a near-constant suffocation until recently. Bucky thought he was getting a handle on his career, surefooted in his future at such a prestigious research university.

That is, until the venomous game you insisted on playing with him in every lecture finally knocked him off kilter.

˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

“Everyone read the assigned text for this week, correct?”

A weak mix of murmurs and ‘yes’s answered his question as an incessant noise started to permeate through the classroom.

Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap.

Dr. Bucky Barnes’ bright blues, followed the source of the tapping, up the slender hand of its owner before loudly clearing his throat, as was his wont, though he quite hated that habit of his.

“Great, can someone briefly summarize the author’s argument so we’re all on the same page?”

Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap. Perfectly polished nails wrapped around a pencil as its eraser end collided again and again onto the desk. Bucky’s quick to glare at you this time, one eye twitching as he called on some overeager student whose hand shot up immediately.

“Well, Habermas’ idea of the public sphere…”

You raise your eyebrows, but you don’t challenge him, placing your pencil down instead of tapping it harder. A-ha. Victory, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t quite understand why in that moment, but the thought of that small, ever-so-slight advantage he had over you in today’s game sent a burst of warmth through his chest.

Overeager Try Hard pulls Bucky from his slight victory, and he trains his attention on the kid again.

“…and so liberal regimes tend to emphasize intellectual exchange in the public sphere as a basis for the educated voter.” Listening to this kid was such a fucking effort today, but Bucky forces a brighter demeanor,

“Yes, that’s correct —“ Bucky is cut off by a loud snort, much earlier than he expected. His eyes shoot straight toward you, as if he was willing you to combust in your seat. All you can do is roll your eyes at him, like a fucking child, he thinks. He almost bares his teeth when you dismissively mutter,

“Oh, please.”

Bucky takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for about three seconds, desperate to keep his slender grasp on his self-control, before he draws out your name and practically snarls,

“Do you have something to say? Or can we both be adults and have a discussion without your attitude?”

A few mocking “ooh, she’s in trouble” ring out from the rest of your classmates, a low sniggering coming from Try Hard behind you. Bucky almost felt like he was winning — the teasing from your classmates, the brief shock at his assertiveness before your face breaks out into such a bright smile.

To Bucky’s great dismay, that mischievous, evil grin didn’t look anything like a conciliatory “You’re right, Dr. Barnes, I’m so sorry and I’ll never undermine you in my tight little skirts again” kind of smile. No, it was a “You’re in for it now, Barnes,” kind of grin, one that sent shivers up his spine in a way that left him almost… excited? Desperate for you to keep responding to him?

You only look at him, maintaining eye contact that felt much too intense for a lesson about what’s-his-philosopher-face and abstract political theory. Bucky swears he feels the tingles in his spine shoot straight to his heart when you respond in the most unexpected way: you back down.

“Aw, I’m sorry, Dr. Barnes.” That saccharine sweet voice, infused with the most malice he’d heard from you yet; and he almost short circuits when you push your bottom lip out into a pout. “Please, continue the lesson.”

What, no jab about his intellect? No undermining fucking snobby comments about his teaching methods? Bucky didn’t know how to respond, so he moved forward. “Just keep going, Barnes. Class is almost over,” he chides himself.

“Right. So,” Fuck. Stop stuttering, Barnes. “As we were discussing, Habermas’ ideas —“

Tap. TAP. Tap. TAP.

Bucky looks down at you again, no pencil in hand this time so his eyes travel down to the source of the noise. You don’t miss the way they’re caught on the skin left uncovered by your skirt, a sudden rush of heat flowing through your chest when your professor’s eyes slink down your legs toward the source of his annoyance. When Bucky’s eyes land on your boots, one of them tippy-tippy-tapping away in a deliberate attempt to make him go insane.

“Are you kidding me, right now, Ms. LN!?” Bucky blurts out at you, clipped tone threatening to burst into something louder, more powerful in impact because you have needled him one too many times. The sheer delight in your eyes doesn’t do anything but completely infuriate him.

“Oh ho ho! Look who’s finally developed a backbone,” you actually jeer at him. That domineering little smirk that he’s become so familiar with. You stop your tapping, leaning back and folding your arms across your chest. Bucky doesn’t miss the way your chest is pushed against your arms, making them look bigger, big enough to fit into the palm of his hand, maybe. Fucking God, Barnes. Focus.

“You’re way out of line today,” Bucky starts, ready to tear you a new one, let you know how fucking irritating it is to have a know-it-all in a course that he spent so much time, so much meticulous attention into developing.

“I’ll step back in line when you can teach, Barnes,” you scoff. You actually fucking scoff. And Bucky is seeing too much red to pay any attention to the taunting and chittering surrounding the two of you. And maybe, (just maybe) Bucky would grow to regret the words that spilled, unrestrained and furious as he slammed down his pile of lecture notes on the table:

“Listen, you and your smart mouth have been nothing but disrespectful to me and your classmates every single day of this semester. If you don’t like my teaching style, drop the class.”

“This course is required for my major, Dr. Barnes,” you state, too smooth, derisiveness barely concealing a deeper anger. “If I had it my way, I wouldn’t be wasting my time listening to an ‘academic’ so clearly devoid of intellectual depth.”

Bucky swears he feels both of his eyes twitch as he takes a deep, shuddering breath, every drop of will he had channeled into remaining civilized. ‘She’s just a student. Don’t say anything you’ll regret,’ he breathes to himself, over and over. The air quotes you placed around “academic” were too far.

Before Bucky could figure out the most civilized, but strict response, you stand up and turn on your heel, careful to tap your boots as annoyingly as possible as you leave in the middle of the lecture. You stop by the exit, turning around and calling over your shoulder to Bucky, again in that deceptively sweet voice, “Whatever, Dr. Barnes, see you in your office hours.”

In a move that was nothing short of uncool, Bucky calls after you, lacing as much menace as possible, as if he was issuing an ominous warning: “Fine! See you then. We’ll be discussing your unruly behavior, Miss LN.” You return nothing but a simpering smirk, fingers wiggling in a facetious wave that boils Bucky’s blood.

He does everything he can to ignore how shiny your hair is as you turn to leave, short skirt hiking up that much further as you tap, tap, tap down the hall.

˚̣̣̣ ꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

Even the quiet of the library, with its warm wood and cozy chairs, couldn’t soothe his mood. Bucky decides he needs a break, maybe a cup of coffee to wipe the mishap of today’s lecture from his brain. Maybe he’ll go down to the library café on the first floor and see if they had any of those blueberry muffins he liked so much. He stands up and drags one of the large leather armchairs near him closer to the large, arched windows. A hot cup of coffee and his books next to the window. Surely that’ll return him to some kind of equilibrium.

Bucky sighs and gives a yawn, arms up as he’s stretching out his back before he makes his way through the maze of shelves lined with rich leather-bound tomes, each in its rightful place. He lets that thought calm him. Everything is where it should be in the library. No nagging smart ass student. No irritating boss, because Dr. Stark would rather spend time schmoozing with department donors than in a classroom. No distractions — just Bucky and his stack of books, ready to be digested and organized into coherent research. Nothing out of place in his library until he runs into you, that is. As Bucky rounds the corner toward the elevator, a flash of long hair and a familiar short skirt stops him in his tracks.

He pauses for a second before stepping behind the nearest immediate shelf, able to see you and Peter without being observed himself. Bucky doesn’t really process it in that moment, but a tug of adrenaline sends his heart rate up as he watches Peter hand you a cup of coffee. Your face — annoyingly pretty, Bucky thinks — lit up gratitude as your hands grab for the warmth of the cup. Peter leans in, surely too close for propriety’s sake, to hear you better as the last few whispers elicit a chuckle from him. He watches you give a stupid salute to Peter, and a strange, dark heat bubbling through him and tightening his chest.

That day, head hunched over a few archival parchment documents, all that pranced through through his brain were you and your little attitude and little fucking skirt, and the fact that you had picked the wrong fucking day to antagonize him.

Hours later when he retraced the events of the day before bed, Bucky still really couldn’t explain why he stopped so abruptly, why seeing you with that Parker kid was so frustrating for him.

✶

It’s fucking early. Too fucking early on a Monday for you to be dragging yourself out of bed to make your appointment with Dr. Barnes. Usually you wouldn’t bother getting out of bed before 11 AM, but today was a stacked day: meeting with Barnes, work, then a few hours in the library to finish a few assignments. First on the agenda: getting Dr. Barnes’ office hours appointment out of the fucking way.

Of course, you were aware that you were in for a rather unpleasant conversation with Barnes, but you knew that it was bound to come sooner or later. Your behavior wasn’t exactly exemplary of a bright student on track to attending an R1 research graduate program next year. Oh on the contrary, you recognized that your behavior wasn’t much of a deviation from that of a petulant child who had missed her afternoon nap — grouchy, mean, and desperate for calm. But you couldn’t help it. Every time Barnes wanted to explain something (something you already knew, most likely), he dragged out his words like you were actually four fucking years old, like you were just learning such big words and couldn’t connect ideas together with your own, undeveloped brain. Worse than the over-explaining, you supposed that his worst crime was that you had learned absolutely nothing from him throughout the semester. You didn’t feel intellectually challenged. In a course you PAID TUITION for, no less. It was completely unfair.

So, if he treated you like you were a dumb kid, then you’d make it as unpleasant for him as possible. He made it so easy to argue with him. Often wrong, always timid and slow to rebuke — quite honestly, sometimes you thought that you were doing him a service, pushing him into becoming a better teacher. Forcing him to prove his arguments rather than regurgitating outdated research that had no business being taught in the 21st century.

Obviously, this effort was to no avail.

The chill of autumn seeped into the brick walls of your tiny apartment, kicking on the creaky radiator that sometimes disturbed your sleep with its ghostly noises. Usually, the sounds and smells of your routine, the slowness of the morning, were enough to calm you: the burbling and snap of the electric kettle, fragrant coffee with a hazelnut creamer, your little mackerel tabby, Friday, mewing at you for her breakfast.

“Hi, baby,” you coo at her, all nine pounds of terror weaving between your ankles, “Momma’s gotta be out for the whole day today so you be good.” You scratch her one last time under her chin and pour kibble into her bowl, refreshing her water before you mentally prepare for the gruel of the work day. “Don’t try to chew through the treat bag again or we’ll have a problem.”

It was sluggish, the pace at which you pull on your clothes, guided by the weather app on your phone. With perfunctory, sharp motions, you yank on your knitted tights, skirt, and sweater, the second-hand cashmere a tiny comfort to you as you lock up and trudge to the bus stop, the weight of your school bag exacerbating your misery and irritation as your make your way to Thunderbolt Hall.

Earbuds blasted music through your ears, sunglasses blocking your stare. The scarf you’ve pulled close around your nose and mouth to keep in the warmth swishing in the air as you stomped through the university commons. Any excuse to avoid social interaction this early in the morning. Music gave you an excuse to keep walking, anyone stopping to greet you automatically assuming that you couldn’t hear them, couldn’t see them, or didn’t want to be bothered. Your sensory-deprivation contraption, you think, amused as you trekked toward Dr. Barnes’ office.

✶

Dr. Bucky Barnes hears the tap of your boots before he sees you. He’d been dreading this meeting, unsure of how you’d react to him reprimanding you for your behavior. He was determined to remain civilized today. Last lecture was nothing more than a student getting to him and him losing his cool. It was unprofessional. It felt fucking good, but unprofessional, nevertheless. And Bucky was nothing if not professional.

Nested at the end of the hall on the fourth floor of an old building foisted aside to be used by underfunded humanities departments, Bucky’s office was lucky enough to enjoy the warmth of the sun streaming in from two wide bay windows. Surrounded by furniture of dark wood, a cozy living room setup sat in front of the fireplace, which would be put to use as the northeast winter arrives in full force. Bucky tried hard to make it comfortable, bringing in a blanket and a few photos that he framed and displayed on the mantle. One of him and Steve the day they both graduate from their PhD programs. A photo of Bucky with a tight smile while shaking Dr. Stark’s hands, taken against his will on the day of his “welcome” party that the department secretary insisted was earmarked in the budget.

In the corner, a coffee machine whirred as it made his usual second cup of morning coffee. Bucky scoots in his fancy leather chair over to retrieve his mug, sipping on it just as he hears your knuckles wrap on his office door.

He waits a second, placing his mug down on a coaster before arranging himself behind his desk, ready to be the responsible adult between the two of you. He has his hands around his coffee mug, the ceramic warming his hands, and clears his throat one last time,

“Come in.” He watches the knob turn before your head pokes in, looking left and right before stepping in, leaving the door ajar. You’re stone faced, making your way slowly to the seat directly in front of Bucky’s desk and facing him. Bucky notices your skirt… barely catching his disappointment when he sees that your legs are covered in cable-knit tights. God damn, focus, Barnes. You cross, and uncross your legs, fidgeting with your bag in your lap, and raise an eyebrow at him.

He doesn’t respond, but just continues to stare at you, challenging you with an arch of a brow. You can make the first move today. He wants to know which way you’re headed.

“Well, Dr. Barnes,” you sigh, “we have a laundry list of shit to get through on the agenda, so where do you want to start?”

He snorts, amused and unable to conceal it, so he smirks and just says,

“Why not the easiest task? Run your research paper idea by me first.” Just as he couldn’t conceal the fact that he found you amusing, you couldn’t hide your surprise at his choice. But you quickly school yourself into a stony face once again.

“Sure. I’m thinking of juggling several ideas in my paper...” you explain as you pull out your notebook, flipping a few pages before turning to a sheet lined with pretty, swooping handwriting. Bucky notices the neatness with each flare of your pen, how organized you are and how it tickles something in his brain when he sees your long fingers wrap around a pen.

“…hello?” You snap a finger in front of Bucky’s face, shocking him out of his daze. Shit, what did she say?

“I’m listening, I’m listening,” Bucky lies, hurriedly trying to get a grip on himself. He was so determined to be in control of the conversation. “Your idea is good. No notes.”

Your face wrinkles, confused and a little frustrated. That pouty lip pushes out a bit, just the way Bucky liked to stare at sometimes when he caught you zoning out in class. Oops. Wrong thing to say, Bucky winces.

“That’s it?” You spat out your words with incredulity, vaguely aware that you had crossed a line somewhere and giving over to your intuition, you tense; ever so slightly, but enough for Bucky to feel his eyes flash in defiance.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” he says as his brows knit together, crossing his leg to rest one ankle on the opposite knee; he can still salvage the situation. But what the fuck would he say? “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to a word you were saying, I was too fixated on your fingers and what they could be touching?” The thought of it was enough to make him blush.

“I mean, you have no suggestions at all as to how I can improve my research topic?” Okay. Don’t panic, Barnes. Double down. Just double down.

“I think it’s brilliant, actually,”

“Figures.” You scoff, murmuring under your breath, and by this point, Bucky knows that he’s completely lost control of the situation.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Figures that you’d have nothing useful to say. Thanks for the meeting anyway.” You look at your watch before adding, all lofty and slow, “I have somewhere to be.”

You’re spinning on the heel of your boots — much too smug for someone dangerously close to receiving a referral to the Student Conduct Office — before you stop in your tracks at Bucky’s next command.

“No,” he spits out, “We have one more thing to discuss.” He’ll be damned if he let you out of this classroom without some acknowledgment that you were a pain in his ass.

“And what would that be?” you whirl around, quiet, frustrated, and a little taken aback by Bucky’s harsh tone.

“Don’t start,” he commands. You notice his upper arms, muscular, veiny, flex as he grips the arms of his office chair.

“What, you want me to apologize to you? You want me to say ‘sorry’ to the big man whose ego can’t take a little bruising?” you jab, but the confidence is not quite as striking as usual.

“Sit down,” he commands. Again. Much more assertive this time. He nods his head towards the seat you had previously occupied, and adds, “now.” You had frozen, midstep, with your hand on the door handle, cold brass against your palm making your pulse all the more noticeable.

Bucky is almost gleeful when he sees the surprise on your face at his directions. So surprised. So pretty. He watches you slowly make your way back into the chair, setting your bag on the floor next to you and crossing your legs before leaning back.

“Yes?” You grit out, slowly dragging your eyes up to meet his. Arms crossed, you dare to pull that face that gets Bucky so riled up. He clears his throat before beginning,

“We’re not done talking. Your behavior in class has been disrespectful and disruptive. I know for a fact that you don’t behave like this with other professors. What’s going on?” This was the mature thing to do, Bucky had thought. To sit down, ask his colleagues for help, and talk to you like you were an equal. “What’s your problem with me, huh?”

You don’t react, at least externally. You only smile, that fake sweet smirk that he can’t get away from.

“Why, I don’t know what you mean, Dr. Barnes.” Bucky has to take a deep breath, reminding himself not to get riled up. Not to let you get to him.

“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you,” Bucky responds, strict and to the point. He keeps staring at you, sure that he was in command of the situation. You watch as he gets up from his chair, making his way to lean back against his desk, directly in front of you. He crosses his arms, mirroring you. You don’t like the confident little attitude he has today. You didn’t know how to deal with this version of him. So you keep poking at him, in a way that you knew, that you were sure would rile him up.

“Aw, Dr. Barnes. Why don’t you explain to me what you’re talking about? As clearly as you can, please?” You keep the shit-eating simper on, but it fades into confused intrigue as he moves closer to you, invading too much of the air around you.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, and Bucky savors that innocent moment of shock on your face before he rests his hands, one on each arm of the chair you were sitting in, your arms and legs still crossed as you failed to keep your breathing even. A vague scent of man and aftershave sending an exhilaration through you and flooding you with a warmth. A familiar warmth you’ve only ever felt in your bedroom at night. After the long fucking library sessions and steaming hot showers, when you’d collapse into your bed utterly exhausted but mentally alert, you’d let your mind wander.

The closer Bucky got to you, the more you could see the little flecks in his blue eyes. He was angry. Furious, even. His mouth had set into a frown, and he was so fucking confused about how out of hand the situation had gotten, how out of control he felt in that moment. So he does what he feels is right, just like you always say what you feel is right. He leans in closer to you, nose almost touching yours as he breathes into you,

“I’ve been so patient with you, you know that Little Miss Smart Mouth?” Bucky looks down at your lips and back at your eyes, rasping, “Every fucking day. You come into my classroom and you torture me.” He watches you uncross your arms and legs, attempting to sit up straighter in your chair. He keeps waiting for you to push him away. For you to say something mean. To reject him.

But you don’t. You stare right back at him, demeanor so bewildered and at a loss for words, Bucky dares to let himself think that you were sexy. Pupils dilated, staring up at him, at a loss for words. Uncharacteristically quiet, and Bucky decides that he likes that look on your face, a little awed, a little defiant, but sexy. He watches you swallow, trying to grasp at words that usually come so easily to you,

“I —” Your stammer sounds so strange, and Bucky relishes in this moment, the chance to catch you off guard and unsure of where the dynamic between the two of you broke. He watches you, as you wonder how you have lost the upper hand.

“What, Miss L.N.? Cat finally got your tongue?” he teases, smirking down as he slowly, ever-so slowly, closes the gap between the two of you.

The press of his lips against yours is hungry. Electrifying. Hot. Bucky groans when you lean into the kiss, your hands coming up to cup his face and pulling him closer. Impossibly closer. He breathes you in as he kisses you, hands traveling up your back and bringing you to your feet. He feels a twitch in between his legs when you moan into his mouth, and he bites your bottom lip when you break the kiss.

Bucky stares at you as his chest heaves, your mouth swollen and pink where he had nipped you. Your eyes are glued to his lips, and he gives you what you want, with just as much desire and urgency as before.

“Can’t be a snarky little know-it-all now, huh baby?” Bucky murmurs into your mouth, fingers carding through your hair and working toward a firm grip at the base of your scalp. He gives a tug, and his cock hardens at the whimper that comes out of you when he turns your face to look at his, at the control he has over you in that moment, at the fact that you couldn’t escape him. You smirk up at him, still wild-eyed, and bite back,

“I don’t know, Dr. Barnes, guess you’ll just have to see.” You giggle, that girlish teasing giggle that drove Bucky fucking crazy. Your hands, just as greedy as Bucky felt, ran up the length of his arms, squeezing his biceps lightly before they settled on his chest.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he sighs into you before capturing your lips again, desperate, savoring the feel of your lips on his. His cock demanded so much more when he felt you smile into the kiss.

But no, he’s in control today. Even if he hadn’t planned for today to turn out the way it did, he was still going to be in control of this. Of you.

The moment you both come up for air, Bucky steps back, trying to catch himself, to calm down. Your eyes trail down his body appreciatively, the glowing smile on your face brightening when you land on the bulge in your professor’s slacks and Bucky feels his cock betray him, twitching under his boxers and hardening even more under your observant gaze.

“Dr. Barnes,” you look up at him through your lashes, glasses slipping down your nose bridge when your lips perk up, “I thought you were an unremarkable teacher before, but now I’m thinking you’re dumber than I originally thought.”

Bucky tenses up even more, arms cross as he leans back against his desk. It’s taking everything in him not to pounce on you. You seemed to obey his commands earlier, when he was losing his grip on his temper. Bucky could do that again, he could be what you wanted, if it meant you’d stay.

If it meant you’d let him get you off.

“Stop talking, Miss Smart Mouth,” he sneers at you, in command of his tone — low, seared with lust when he sees you bite your lip, obeying him. God, fuck. You were just turned on as he was, he knew it. “Strip.” he says, more demanding this time, still not moving from his position against his desk. You weren’t more than a foot away from him. He could just reach out right now, give you both what you wanted.

But Bucky was patient. He was going to drag this out. For himself. For all the times you’ve gotten on his fucking nerves, undermining his authority during class, in front of other students. For getting to his ego, of all things.

He was patient as you stripped, one garment after another peeling off to reveal smooth, glowing skin that he was dying to lay his hands on. A glimpse of your clavicle here, soft thighs there, Bucky wasn’t sure where he wanted to concentrate his stare. Jesus fucking Christ, he thinks to himself when his stare lands on your cleavage; soft, supple, begging to be bitten. By the time you were down to just your bra and panties, Bucky catches himself just in the nick of time.

“Wait, stop.”

You pause, looking up at him and arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, Dr. Barnes?” you ask, timid, in anticipation of what would happen next.

More often than you’d ever admit, your hands would wander under the cloud-soft cotton of your panties, fingers wandering toward your slit and smearing the wetness around your clit, determined to reach an orgasm that would put you into a deep slumber. You’d rather die than admit it, but sometimes, it was Dr. Barnes’ image in your head that brought you to your peak. His muscular forearms, lined with veins and evidently fortified by strength-training, would strain under your grip as he shoved himself in your imagination.

“Come here,” he gestures to you with one hand and moves to clear space on the desk before he taps the wood. The sight of his huge, toned body in front of you, out of reach and ready for you to touch — you felt the cotton of your panties dampen, just like you did on those nights you got yourself off to the image of Dr. Barnes. You take a step forward, hesitant, unable to keep your nerves reigned in.

“Finally found the stones to fight back, huh, Dr. Barnes?” you tease, attempting to get your head back into the dynamic you were used to. You were turned on, but not so much that you were willing to give up your dignity in that moment.

Unamused, Dr. Barnes taps the wood again. His next command is huskier, like he’s not willing to play your game anymore.

“Bend over,” he says, muscles in his jaw jostling with the strength it takes to hold himself back. He couldn’t describe it, this energy between the two of you. A heady, lustful sheen had blanketed the two of you in your own little world. He forgot who he was. He forgot that you were his student. He forgot himself, and all he wanted to do was scream.

#writing in hiding₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊#bucky barnes #smut #smut fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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astrology-by-sita · 6 months ago

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DON'T SLEEP ON YOUR SECT LIGHT

apart from the asc lord, the sect light shows who you are. It also shows how you "shine" . It's also your health, wellbeing, vitality and stamina.

The sun is about ambition, power and authority. Authority of course comes with responsibility.

The Moon represents the mind - desires! Again, the mind desires , not the heart. Indulging to much in desires can affect you negatively though .

The sun prefers to be in an active diurnal sign (air and fire).

The Moon prefers to be in a nocturnal receptive sign (earth or water)

If the sun is in a nocturnal sign it gets frustrated cause it is forced to slow down. The moon in a diurnal sign is confused, wanting to speed up while desires take time to materialize fully on earth.

The bound ruler of the sect light shows the limits within which the sect light has to act. The luminarias rule no bounds, so they're always answering to the limits of some other planet. The sun would rather have a diurnal planet as its bound ruler, while the Moon, nocturnal.

TRIPLICITY RULERS OF THE SECT LIGHT

Now the serious work. The 1st two triplicity rulers of the sect light show the quality of life, wealth, happiness. The 1st triplicity ruler is about the 1st part of life. The 2nd triplicity ruler is about the 2nd part of life. The 3rd one is only supposed to support so they call it "cooperating ruler".

You can check the condition of each triplicity ruler to determine the happiness and wealth of the individual. Is the trip. ruler angular or succedent?

If so then it's a good indicator. Is it a benefic or malefic?

You can determine the exact timing of when the 1st triplicity ruler hands over to the 2nd using the minor years of the planets based on their synodic cycle.

Sun has 19 years.

Moon: 25

Mercury: 20

Venus: 8

Saturn: 30

Jupiter: 12

Mars: 15

There's a theory that you have to subtract 1 year to determine the age of the individual in which the shift occurred. For example if Jupiter has 12 years as a 1st triplicity ruler then the shift occurred when the person was 11 years old.

You can also use the ascentional times of the zodiac signs in the same way. There's a table of those in Chris Brennan's book. And if you're lazy like me, astro seek website will give you those automatically when you choose the Traditional Astrology option.

It shows them like this. This is from Shakira's chart. Let's use her as an example. Aquarius sun in 11h as the sect light - air triplicity in day charts is Saturn, mercury, Jupiter.

Saturn period is 30 years so at 29 years old a shift occurred for her. It was when she released one of her greatest hits in English, Hips Don't Lie featuring Wyclef Jean. Her Saturn is succedent in the 5th house of creativity. YES it's in adversity and retrograde but in its own bound.

Her 2nd triplicity ruler of the sect light is mercury in Capricorn. It is angular ! The ascentional time of Capricorn in her latitude (10°59'North) is almost 31°. So when she was 30 years old, that angular Mercury took over. During that time she was on her Oral Fixation tour, in which she visited 6 continents, and performed for the 1st time at the Grammy Awards. She was awarded "The Best Pop Collaboration with Vocals" for her hit Hips Don't Lie.

She released a song with Beyoncé, and she did the soundtrack of the movie adaptation of the famous novel "Love In The Time of Cholera". Tbh her songs are the only good thing about that movie which butchered a literary masterpiece. Anyway i digress...

This is the main point of this technique. I hope i was clear in explaining it. Study your sect light in depth. I am still learning just as you are .

Triplicity rulers for day charts for all elements :

Fire signs : sun, Jupiter, Saturn

Air signs : Saturn, mercury, Jupiter

Earth signs : Venus, Moon, Mars

Water signs : Venus, Mars, moon

For Night charts :

Fire signs : Jupiter, sun, Saturn

Air signs : Mercury, Saturn, Jupiter

Earth signs : moon, Venus, Mars

Water signs : Mars, Venus, moon

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definitely-not-a-wasp · 5 months ago

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Max Ride Fancasts

Someone mentioned the Max Ride movie and I, who has not yet watched it, have decided rather than doing that, am going to make a Fancast using modern actors. While I am objectively correct about all of my choices, if you disagree with me, you should make your own fancast (this is blatant baiting into getting more fancasts. I want to see everyone's opinions about who should play these characters. Pretty Please <3)

To set the scene: the year is 2025. James Patterson has announced that he's been working with another studio for a Maximum Ride movie. Fans despair everywhere, but we all know we're going to watch it.

"What's the cast list?" we ask. "Are we going to get another blond buzzcut man for Fang?" we ask.

Before we learn any of that, we learn that it's directed by Justin Benson, and James Newton Howard is doing the soundtrack, because this seems like the most important piece of information for them to give you, and since it's MY fantasy Maximum Ride movie, I get to choose who's doing the soundtrack.

It takes much longer for them to release the cast list, because we already have the most important part (Michael Giacchino) covered.

Maximum Ride: Dior Goodjohn

First: look at her. She could totally lead a pack of feral teenagers in the woods. And, in contrast to the canon movie, she has some solidness to her limbs that look like she'd actually do damage if she hit someone, which I find important for Max— she's strong. She needs to look it. Second: her performance in the Percy Jackson Series shows that she can 100% play a suave, sarcastic, quippy character who solves her problems with punching, while her role in Are You Afraid of the Dark shows a much more emotive role, and I think the combination of these two roles showcase a really good vibe for Max's smarmy teenager who also wears her heart on her sleeve and is in over her head.

Fang: Teo Briones

Is 20 perhaps skirting the edge of playing a teenager territory? Yes, but since JP established that the flock looks older than they are, and the last guy to play Fang was over 20, I'm allowing it. From an aesthetic perspective, Briones has both the generally youthful look while still being angular, which I feel is really good for someone playing Fang. And he's made a lot of his films in the thriller/horror genre that emphasize his ability to do micro expressions, which would translate really well to a character who doesn't emote very much.

Iggy: Mason Thames

In a perfect world I think a blind actor would be best for this role, but that being said, this is a fancast, so I'm using celebrities. I think the general gangliness fits Iggy well, there's a smarminess to him (look at the smirks), and his performance in Black Phone shows that he can also play up intense emotions, which would be good for a character like Iggy who switches from laid back/carefree to really intense and angry fairly quickly.

Nudge: Madison Curry

Gonna be honest, the younger the actors get the less I'm looking at their film history and the more I'm going off vibes, and Madison Curry looks like a really good Nudge to me. She looks so nice and happy to be alive, in contrast to all of the older kids. Also, she was really good in Us 2019, which proves her ability to work in a darker genre.

Gazzy: Jackson Scott

If the Maximum Ride Movie was allowed to cast a 12-year-old to play a six-year-old, I'm allowed to do this. He'd blond, he looks rambunctious, and the exact type of person to blow things up for fun.

Angel: Charlotte Ann Tucker

Okay but think about how much sadder all of Angel's scenes would be if she actually looked like a chubby-cheeked six-year-old. Put THAT into the horrors and we'll all forgive her for what she did in the late series (become annoying).

Ari Batchelder: David Mattle

Since Ari is seven, but looks twenty, but acts twelve, I think there's a lot of directions his actor to go in, but I'm choosing David Mattle because, like Angel, think about how much sadder all of his scenes are if he looks like a kid. David Mattle also has a more angular face, giving him a slightly more serious appearance despite being young that would lend well to Ari, and his role from There's Something Wrong With the Children makes me feel like he could play a good antagonist, leaning more into a creepy/sadistic child in a horror movie rather than a military man that kills for the lulz and is also seven.

Jeb Batchelder: Ethan Hawke

Not only does Ethan Hawke look like a tired and slightly bedraggled full-time scientist, part-time father (about to get fired from that job), but his recent work in Moon Knight and Black Phone really display someone who is surface level very calm and reasonable while he does absolutely heinous things, which is a good thing to bring into Jeb's character. We need someone who displays the cognitive dissonance to behave like he's the normal one in the situation that he's directly causing and making worse, with the charimsa to have him getting away with it.

Valencia Martinez: Lupita Nyong'o

Now you see why I casted Max the way I did. Not only is Lupita Mexican, but I'm citing her performance in Us 2019 for this one, she can 100% play frazzled mother weighed down by the guilt of her actions and enduring the Horrors caused by them, because (again) Us 2019. Look at her. Look at her. Tell me she wouldn't make the best Dr. Martinez.

In conclusion: We would all watch this movie, even if it had the exact same cgi wing budget. also I think all that this proves is that my movie watching history contains mostly horror.

#maximum ride on main #maximum ride #Max Ride #Fang (Maximum Ride)#iggy (maximum ride)#nudge (maximum ride)#gazzy (maximum ride)#angel (maximum ride)#Jeb Batchelder #Valencia Martinez #fancast #Maximum Ride Fancast #If you make your own feel free to tag me I want to SEE THEM #Also the vibes of the movie I think would be the series of unfortunate events (netflix) meets the teen horror genre #specifically in that everything is quippy and a little campy up until a grown man hits a literal child and they go down hard #or said child is covered in someone else's blood and dry heaving from the smell #and then they try to go back to fun and campy but THEY REMEMBER. THEY FUCKING REMEMBER.

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black-arcana · 4 months ago

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GARBAGE Announces Summer/Fall 2025 North American Tour

Influential alternative rock band GARBAGE will embark on a 31-city tour across North America this fall in support of their anticipated eighth studio LP, "Let All That We Imagine Be The Light". "Happy Endings" will see stops at New York's Brooklyn Paramount, Washington D.C.'s The Anthem, San Francisco's The Warfield and more. Tickets will go on sale April 4.

For over thirty years, GARBAGE's powerful live show has captivated audiences and continues to inspire worldwide adoration. "Happy Endings" marks GARBAGE's first extensive headline tour in the U.S. in almost ten years.

"Let All That We Imagine Be The Light", set for release May 30, is the follow-up to 2021's critically acclaimed "No Gods No Masters", praised in The New York Times as a "thrumming mix of goth and orchestral pop." According to singer Shirley Manson, the new album was forged out of the need to find an uplifting thread amidst the swell of chaos and extraordinary upheaval in the world.

GARBAGE consists of all four original band members: Manson, Duke Erikson, Steve Marker and Butch Vig. Over the 30 years since their inception in 1995, they have sold over 20 million albums. Their unique sound, songwriting and electric live performances have cultivated global admiration, chart success and critical acclaim. They are considered one of the most influential bands of their generation.

"Happy Endings" tour dates:

September 3 - Orlando, FL - Hard Rock Café September 5 - Pompano Beach, FL - Pompano Beach Amphitheatre September 6 - St Petersburg, FL - Jannus Live September 8 - Atlanta, GA - The Eastern September 10 - Nashville, TN - The Pinnacle September 12 - Cleveland, OH - Agora Theatre September 13 - Detroit, MI - Masonic Cathedral Theatre September 16 - Philadelphia, PA - Franklin Music Hall September 17 - Washington, DC - The Anthem September 18 - Boston, MA - Roadrunner September 20 - Brooklyn, NY - Brooklyn Paramount September 23 - Pittsburgh, PA - Stage AE September 24 - Toronto, ON - History September 29 - Chicago, IL - The Salt Shed September 30 - Newport, KY - MegaCorp Pavilion October 1 - Columbus, OH - KEMBA Live! October 3 - Madison, WI - The Sylvee October 4 - Minneapolis, MN - First Avenue October 6 - Kansas City, MO - Midland Theatre October 7 - Dallas, TX - The Bomb Factory October 12 - Denver, CO - The Mission Ballroom October 15 - Seattle, WA - Paramount Theatre October 18 - Spokane, WA - Knitting Factory Spokane October 20 - Vancouver, BC - Orpheum October 21 - Portland, OR - McMenamins Crystal Ballroom October 23 - Saratoga, CA - The Mountain Winery October 24 - San Francisco, CA - The Warfield October 26 - Reno, NV - Silver Legacy Resort Casino October 29 - Salt Lake City, UT - Rockwell at The Complex October 31 - Las Vegas, NV - The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas - The Chelsea November 2 - Phoenix, AZ - The Van Buren

"Let All That We Imagine Be The Light" is unmistakably GARBAGE. All the hallmarks and signatures for which they are known are present here. Big angular guitars, precise, propulsive beats and cinematic soundscapes all lurk beneath Shirley Manson's unmistakable voice, her lyrics bristling with attitude. This is the sound of a group at the peak of their creative powers — characteristically harnessing sonic juxtapositions and moods to create an album that thrums equally with both light and shade.

Butch Vig says: "We used a lot of analogue synths and sound design on the album, as they seemed to fit the dystopian vibes we were all experiencing. We started recording the album with a clean slate, although given what's happening in the U.S. and the rest of the world, it's inevitable that the madness starts to infiltrate the songs. But we definitely wanted the record to have some hope, some light, to convey the feeling that people have the power."

Photo credit: Joseph Cultice

#garbage

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zenithabovemarshland · 2 years ago

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Just thinking aloud about fame, celebrity, and Pluto in Aquarius...

When Britney Spears was released from the conservatorship there were posts about how it's likely Britney might not be as internet-literate or socially appropriate as we'd like her to be, considering everything she went through. The posts encouraged others to be patient and understanding, and not to cancel her if she happens to make any mistakes.

Just now I saw a similar point about Gypsy Rose Blanchard. Now that she's released she intends to make herself very public online, but her entire life (32 years) has been spent in either one prison or the other. There are concerns for how she might adjust to the internet we know today, seeing as how she likely didn't get the opportunity to grow alongside social media the way the rest of us did.

In the 2024 Year Ahead Forecast from The Astrology Podcast they brought up the Pluto in Leo generation, and how that period of time and that generation relate to the making of our concept of "celebrity". They're also the generation that are holding on to power (like the presidents of the USA). Pluto in Leo gen is also unique because it's one of the only Pluto generations that is likely to live to their Pluto opposition, which is happening now. With this Pluto opposition, the pod talked about how the idea of who gets to be in power is likely to change. As well as our concept and relationship with "celebrities".

In 1991, Pluto in Scorpio (square to Pluto in Leo, if it matters. Whether it matters is still something I'm exploring here), Michael J. Fox was diagnosed with Parkinson's. I'm not actually sure how public illness was allowed to be previous to that. I just remember growing up how Michael J. Fox was something of a special case, and his celebrity status helped make massive leaps in awareness and research for Parkinson's.

Hollywood became big in the 1920's, when Pluto was in Cancer. While Pluto has been in the opposite sign, Capricorn, I feel like I've heard about a million celebrities coming out with illness. Justin Bieber, Selena Gomez, Bruce Willis. Recently, Celine Dion. If you Google it, there are lists of dozens of celebrities with chronic illnesses. Not to mention mental illness, which has become that much more public.

My feeling at this point is that there are themes of privacy, hidden and internal illness, and representation here that we've seen getting dug up from the Pluto in Cancer era. True crime stories from old Hollywood, being open about mental illness, exposing how child talents have been exploited by the industry, and of course, hidden afflictions to celebrities are changes we've seen around fame through the trine, Pluto in Scorpio, and opposition, Pluto in Capricorn.

Most obviously, though, who gets to be famous has changed the most in the last 20 years. It used to be only special, hand-picked people who got to be famous. Now it could be anybody with a cell phone.

I think of this blog post on the Aries Point by Ace (AliceSparklyKat), where they talk about how the angular points seem to manifest. They've noticed that celebrities whose Sun is at 0 degrees Cancer seem to be regarded as chameleon-like in their nationality, form, or culture, and those with 0 degrees Capricorn seem to be known for a peak example for one nationality, form, or culture. I wonder if this can be seen in this shift to influencer culture, particularly in the rhetoric that celebrities until now have been made to represent everybody. But now, after Pluto in Capricorn, we are much more aware of the consequences of not having fair representation of more nuanced, individual experiences. At first it was all about art and talent. Now, it's about the hard tacks of who gets what job and why, and the consequences of story. Very Cancer to Capricorn opposition coded.

Anyway, I feel like I've noticed a lot of celebrities becoming ill in the past, and now I feel like I'm seeing some "taboo" issues come up in influencer culture. I'm wondering about how this could be gearing us up for Pluto in Aquarius.

What do you think??? I really want to hear your thoughts!

#astrology community #astro community #mundane astrology #pluto in aquarius

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saturniandevil · 10 months ago

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October 2024 Important Dates

AKA my notes on The Astrology Podcast's October Forecast, hosted by Chris Brennan and Austin Coppock.

Here's a graphic from honeycomb.co showing the exactness of planetary transits throughout the month as well:

September Recap: We're starting the month in the middle of eclipse season (there was a lunar eclipse in Pisces on September 17th). Chris talks about how the biggest intensity of events usually occurs within 10 days on either side of an eclipse. For example, on the 10th there was the US Presidential debate, which fell in Harris's 10th house/North Node and indeed represented an improvement in her public image. The Vice Presidential debate also takes place today, October 1st, right before the next eclipse. Another Pisces eclipse story is the second assassination attempt on Trump--Chris & Austin connect these to the close square of Uranus on his natal Mars and on top of his natal Midheaven. Using nativities, Chris points out that for the past 20 years the winning presidential candidate has had an eclipse in an angular house, which would point towards Harris winning. However, using zodiacal releasing, Trump is set to enter a new era of prominence in April of next year--whether from presidency or another set is unclear. There are a lot of factors indicating this year's election (and the time between then and the inauguration period!) will be confusing and full of surprises.

Another eclipse story is Israel's attack on Lebanon--the pagers were detonated on the day of the Pisces eclipse. The current war in Palestine began under last year's Libra eclipse, and escalation with Iran occurred along an eclipse as well. They predict October 2nd may very well be the date Israel starts a ground offensive into Lebanon, with implications of a regional war (A/N: this episode was recorded September 29th). There will be another eclipse in Aries before the nodes move off this axis, but the Pisces eclipse's coincidence with the electronics attacks and assassination of Nasrallah may be foreshadowing another 2 years of conflict.

The Pisces eclipse also highlighted Saturn's transit through Pisces: the OceanGate submarine wreck was finally found (crushed during Saturn rx), as well as the sunken wreck of the Erebus, a 19th-century polar exploration vessel. In other water disasters, Hurricane Helene ravaged much of the Appalachian US, the worst storm in a century for many cities and small towns. There were also devastating floods in Europe, Nigeria, and India and typhoons hitting much of East Asia.

October 2nd - Solar eclipse in Libra

Immediately afterwards, the Sun and Moon move towards a square with Mars, boding ill for world events with its significations of war, anger, and aggression. Eclipses on a particular axis often indicate a series of events over about a year and a half (this one began early October), so we know already know which stories are going to wrap up to make way for something new. In our personal lives changes may be for the better--for example, for one viewer this indicates the end of a relationship making room for a new one. Mercury has just separated from a cazimi with the Sun (11♎), and Mars is waiting at 15 Cancer to square all of these planets after they conjoin each other. The changes will take place abruptly, jarringly, and painfully for some. Eclipses shock us, even when they're positive. Mars-Mercury indicates arguments, fighting words, and foul language (goes direct at 17 Libra/Cancer on the 6th). Be careful with your words, as this may represent a longer conflict than you realize, as Mars enters its pre-retrograde shadow period soon after:

Like all retrogrades, Mars brings revisions, repeats, and unexpected delays. With Mars hanging out in the same few degrees of Cancer & Leo for awhile, we'll be spending a lot of time and energy in those areas of our chart. Mars retrograde can work well for those born under one, though--for Mars rx natives sometimes it's when big projects finally come to fruition with them.

During the Mars-Mercury conflict, we will have some support: Venus (14♏) will trine Saturn (14♓) on the 4th-5th, and on the 8th she'll (18♏) trine Mars (18♋) with reception. She comes in to offer a bit of a salve after the chafing of Mars contacts. Also on that day, soon-to-retrograde Jupiter (21♊) will trine Mercury (21♎) with reception, soothing some of the previous hard aspect to Mars. These are the kinds of situations where a terrible accident occurs, but you miraculously escape major injury. This can also represent extremes of good and bad happening at the same time.

October 6th - Mercury square Mars (discussed above)

October 9th - Jupiter stations retrograde He's going to hang out in the same few degrees of Gemini for a long time. See eclipse above for some details on transits leading up to this.

October 11th - Pluto stations direct From the 11th-13th Pluto, while slowing down and stationing, squares Mercury as the inner planet moves from Libra to Scorpio. We've been having Pluto stations in Capricorn since 2008-9, and this is the last he'll be in Capricorn for the rest of any of our lifetimes. Mercury brings the underworld planet's hidden matters to light: think investigative journalism, mystery stories, and exposés on dark scandals. Conversely, we can also see manipulation, control, and suppression of information by forces who prefer to remain in the shadows. Pluto is like a doorway to the underworld: it both plunges things into obscurity and brings up secrets from the depths. This is one last burst of intensity in late Capricorn/cardinal signs for those of us who've been feeling its effects--think of molting, with its vulnerabilities and benefits alike. This also marks the end of the United States' Pluto return--an uncertain evaluation of the next 250 years.

October 13th - Mercury enters Scorpio

October 14th - Sun square Mars While the Sun (21♎) squares Mars (21♋) with Jupiter (21♊) attempting to mediate by trining the Sun, Venus (26♏) opposes Uranus (26♉). With Uranus-Venus we may see some surprises in our relationships. (Chris notes Mercury is at 01Scorpio this day, same as Kamala Harris's natal chart, so the news will probably be about her.)

October 17th - Aries Full Moon, Venus enters Sagittarius

Normally we'd breathe a sigh of relief that eclipse season is over, but the luminaries (🌙:24♈,🌞:24♎) are coming right off a square to Mars (22♋), and are headed right into a square with Pluto (29♑). Thus, by the end of the month, Mars and Pluto begin to oppose each other, an intense configuration that will stay with us for the rest of the year thanks to Mars's retrograde. Don't ignore the little issues that Mars is highlighting in your life; nip things in the bud or keep an eye on them because the problems will only intensify over the next few months. The Mars-Pluto opposition will go exact right around election day in the US, or early November. Thus this full moon sets an ominous tone for the months ahead.

Mars signifies cutting, separation, and conflict, while Pluto takes themes to their utmost extremes, making the small massive and the massive small (think of a mushroom cloud explosion borne from mere atoms colliding). Combined, this indicates annihilation, survival responses, severe overreactions, power struggles, aggression & confrontations, manipulation and control. Other keywords are ruthlessness, forcefulness, and lashing out at perceived enemies, real or imagined. Pluto really enjoys hidden power as well--we may fall for decoys of where the real power lies. Unfortunately this strongly overshadows the US election. Overall, with Pluto involved we can't see clearly, so paranoia and conspiracies abound. It can also indicate horrific acts coming to light, like CBS News publishing the first photographs of torture at Abu Ghraib during the Mars-Pluto opposition of late April 2004, and financial developments like the 2008 bank crashes.

In our personal lives, this may be a period of extreme mental or physical exertion where you accomplish more than you thought possible. Austin cautions us not to react to negative things in a way that makes the situation worse, which is our impulse with Mars in Cancer. Sometimes we have to accept that events beyond our power--control what you can and accept what you can't. Uranus in Taurus will also get folded into this background tension via sextile with Pluto.

October 22nd - Sun enters Scorpio

October 25th - Auspicious electional date

This is a difficult month, but if you have to do something important, the 25th is a good time. A few different times will work; Chris likes around 3PM local time, adjusting until the Ascendant is at about 20 Aquarius. This makes the ruler Saturn in the 2nd house in a day chart, good for financial matters. The Leo Moon applies to a sextile with Jupiter, boding well for earthly events--as long as you can catch it when the moon is applying (at a lower degree; moving towards the aspect) rather than separating (at a higher degree, moving away). (Viewers on the West Coast of the US, for example, may have to move it back a day.) With 20Aquarius rising you get a nice, supportive trine from Jupiter in the 5th house, good for games and leisurely activities. Venus in the 11th house is also helpful, and in Denver they were able to get her near the Midheaven as well, though it's not a dealbreaker if you can't get that to line up. Venus in the 11th, ruled by Jupiter, does well with friends and alliances. Furthermore, though she is applying to a square with Saturn, in this chart it has her in contact with the Ascendant ruler, affirming and supporting you and the actions you take at this time. Not recommended for health or routine matters with a cranky day chart detriment Mars in the 6th house, and beware of Pluto in the 12th house of hidden enemies and self-undoing. Thus, it's not ideal, but we can get some things done.

October 28th - Venus square retrograde Saturn Venus would normally be happy to get out of her detriment Scorpio and into a neutral sign like Sagittarius, but she has to get past this square to Saturn before she can really party. However, this does put her in a whole-sign opposition to Jupiter while being received by him (in his domicile), giving a silver (copper) lining to everything else going on. When one benefic is setting, the other is rising for us.

October 30th - Mercury opposes Uranus (not pictured) At 25 of Scorpio and Taurus respectively, this may be an "October surprise" news scandal (or events in our personal lives).

#transits #forecast #october 2024 #solar eclipse in libra #mars retrograde #mars square pluto #mars in cancer #venus in scorpio

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bandcampsnoop · 2 years ago

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10/20/23.

Several years ago, I went through a punk phase. I mean a specific kind of almost "math punk". Short, choppy, angular songs in the mold of Devo. The Coneheads, Ausmuteants, and Isotope Soap are all examples from posts that serve as examples.

Madrid, Spain's Waldo Faldo fit nicely into this genre. These songs are short and catchy. When I saw the cover art, I kind of assumed this was a band from the 1980s and some of the unsold 7"s were being put up on Bandcamp. But no, Waldo Faldo are a current band. "Nueva Especie Humana" is their 2nd 7" single. It looks like it is self-released.

#Waldo Faldo #Madrid #Spain #Devo #The Coneheads #Ausmuteants #Isotope Soap #Bandcamp

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capitalnumbers · 21 days ago

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What's New in Angular 20: Top Features You Should Know

Angular 20 introduces a powerful set of updates that improve performance, simplify development, and future-proof your applications. Key highlights include signal-based reactivity, which replaces complex RxJS for faster, more predictable state management, and zoneless Angular that boosts performance by removing zone.js. The update also features enhanced error handling, smarter debugging tools, and dynamic component rendering to help developers build scalable applications more efficiently.

Developers will benefit from a cleaner angular.json setup, improved scroll handling for smoother navigation, and stronger support for dynamic templates. Additionally, the release deprecates outdated lifecycle hooks, encouraging the use of modern features like signals.

With better diagnostics, customizable global error handlers, and simpler configuration, Angular 20 empowers teams to develop large, maintainable apps with ease. If you’re using an older version, now is the ideal time to upgrade for better speed, reliability, and developer productivity.

#Angular20 #WebDevelopment #FrontendFramework #AngularUpdate #DeveloperTools #SignalBasedReactivity #ZonelessAngular #AngularTips #TechUpgrade

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insightglimpse · 1 month ago

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Wondering Why Angular 20 Outperforms React for Enterprise Web Apps?

While React is great for lightweight apps, Angular 20 is tailored for enterprise-scale projects. Here’s why:

SSR and Hydration: Angular’s optimized hydration boosts SEO and load times better than React’s SSR setup.

TypeScript First: Angular 20’s out-of-the-box TypeScript 5.x support ensures enterprise codebases stay clean, scalable, and secure.

Built-in Tools: Unlike React’s modular setup, Angular 20 ships with a full CLI, routing, and debugging suite.

Code Splitting: Angular’s component-level splitting is now faster and smarter.

👉 Angular 20’s full feature list is here: Check It Out

#angular #insightglimpse #best tips

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sheetmusiclibrarypdf · 1 month ago

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Remembering Eric Dolphy, born on this day in 1928

Remembering Eric Dolphy, born on this day in 1928Best Sheet Music download from our Library.Eric Dolphy: The Singular Voice at the Edge of JazzPlease, subscribe to our Library.Browse in the Library:Eric Dolphy DiscographyLifetime releases ( – June 1964)Posthumous releases (July 1964 – )As sidemanEric Dolphy quintet, Stockholm Sessions, SBC studio, November 19, 1961 (colorized)Browse in the Library:

Remembering Eric Dolphy, born on this day in 1928

Eric Dolphy: The Singular Voice at the Edge of Jazz

Eric Dolphy stands as one of the most revolutionary and tragically short-lived figures in jazz history. A multi-instrumentalist virtuoso primarily on alto saxophone, bass clarinet, and flute, Dolphy carved a unique path that stretched the boundaries of harmony, melody, rhythm, and instrumental technique. Operating at the explosive nexus of hard bop, modal jazz, and the burgeoning avant-garde of the early 1960s, he was a fearless explorer whose music sounded like nothing before it – simultaneously complex and deeply emotional, abstract yet rooted. His influence, though concentrated into a mere five years as a leader, resonates profoundly through decades of creative music. Biography: The Brief, Intense Journey (1928-1964) Born Eric Allan Dolphy Jr. on June 20, 1928, in Los Angeles, California, music surrounded him from an early age. His parents fostered his talents; his father built instruments, and his mother sang light opera. Dolphy began on clarinet at age six, later adding oboe (a rarity in jazz) and alto saxophone. He studied formally at Los Angeles City College and played in Roy Porter's big band alongside future luminaries like Art Farmer and Hampton Hawes in the late 1940s. After a stint in the U.S. Army (1950-1953), Dolphy returned to the vibrant LA scene. He became a crucial sideman, contributing significantly to albums by Chico Hamilton (notably Chico Hamilton Quintet with Strings Attached, 1958, showcasing his flute and bass clarinet) and working with Gerald Wilson. His unique voice began to emerge, characterized by angular lines, wide intervallic leaps, and a deeply vocalized tone. The pivotal shift came in 1959 when Charles Mingus invited Dolphy to join his band in New York. Mingus, a fellow musical visionary, provided the perfect crucible for Dolphy's burgeoning ideas. He became a central figure in Mingus's groundbreaking ensembles, featured on seminal albums like Mingus at Antibes (1960), Charles Mingus Presents Charles Mingus (1960 - featuring the explosive "Fables of Faubus"), and Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus (1963). Mingus valued Dolphy's ability to push boundaries while maintaining a strong connection to blues and gospel roots, famously calling him "a saint."

Simultaneously, Dolphy became an indispensable collaborator for John Coltrane during Trane's own radical evolution. Dolphy's influence is palpable on the iconic Africa/Brass sessions (1961), Live! at the Village Vanguard (1961), and the controversial Olé Coltrane (1961). Their musical kinship was profound; they shared a relentless quest for new sonic territories and spiritual expression. This association, however, also drew harsh criticism from conservative jazz critics who labeled their music "anti-jazz," a charge both vehemently rejected. Despite the critical friction, Dolphy began leading his own sessions. His debut as a leader, Outward Bound (1960), announced his arrival with startling originality. This was followed by a prolific period: Out There (1960), Far Cry (1960, featuring Booker Little), and the European recordings Eric Dolphy in Europe (Vols. 1-3, 1961) documented his rapidly evolving conception. He formed a vital partnership with the brilliant young trumpeter Booker Little, tragically also destined for a short life, resulting in the legendary Five Spot recordings in 1961. Dolphy spent increasing time in Europe from 1961 onwards, finding audiences more receptive to his innovations. His final year, 1964, was remarkably productive. He recorded his masterpiece, Out to Lunch (discussed below), with a young Freddie Hubbard, Bobby Hutcherson, Richard Davis, and Tony Williams. He also recorded the powerful Iron Man sessions and toured extensively. Tragedy struck on June 29, 1964. While on tour in Europe with Mingus, Dolphy fell into a diabetic coma in Berlin. Mistaken for a drug addict (he was famously clean-living), he received inadequate medical care and died at the age of 36. The jazz world lost one of its most original voices at the peak of his creative powers.

Music Style: Beyond Category Dolphy defied easy categorization. He emerged from the bebop tradition – citing Charlie Parker and Bud Powell as early influences – but rapidly pushed beyond its harmonic and melodic conventions. His style is often associated with the "free jazz" movement, yet he rarely abandoned chord changes entirely. Instead, he operated in a unique space: - Harmonic Expansion: Dolphy treated chords not as rigid structures but as springboards. He employed "superimposition," playing lines implying alternate harmonies over the existing changes. He liberally used chromaticism, dissonance (especially minor seconds and major sevenths), and wide intervals (leaps of ninths, elevenths, thirteenths) that were jarringly unconventional at the time but imbued with intense logic and emotion. - Melodic Angularity: His lines were famously jagged, avoiding predictable scalar runs. He favored unexpected leaps, intervallic sequences, and motives that developed with almost compositional logic during solos. This created a sense of constant surprise and restless energy. - Rhythmic Fluidity: Dolphy’s phrasing was extraordinarily flexible. He effortlessly stretched and compressed time, overlaying complex rhythmic patterns over the underlying pulse. He employed asymmetrical phrasing and sudden bursts of notes, creating a highly conversational, almost speech-like quality. - Vocalized Sound: Perhaps his most distinctive characteristic was his sound. On all his instruments, he achieved an intensely vocalized, human quality: - Alto Saxophone: Sharp, piercing, sometimes strident, capable of searing cries, guttural growls, and tender whispers. He pushed into the altissimo register with unique control and expression. - Bass Clarinet: Dolphy was arguably the pioneer who established the bass clarinet as a serious solo voice in modern jazz. He extracted an astonishing range: deep, woody lows; resonant mid-range; and surprisingly agile, flute-like highs, often with a vocalized vibrato and multiphonic growls. He used its full range melodically and texturally. - Flute: He brought unprecedented power and edge to jazz flute. Eschewing its stereotypical sweetness, he employed percussive attacks, overblowing to create harmonic distortion, and rapid, complex runs. His flute work was often fiery and intense. - Emotional Range: Despite the intellectual complexity, Dolphy's music was deeply felt. He could convey profound anguish, ecstatic joy, playful whimsy, and serene beauty, often within the same solo. His music was never abstraction for its own sake; it was charged with human experience. Improvisational Language: The Architecture of Surprise Dolphy's solos are masterclasses in motivic development, harmonic daring, and narrative flow. Analyzing his "licks" reveals less about stock patterns and more about his unique process: - Motivic Development: Dolphy rarely played aimless streams of notes. He would introduce a short, angular cell – perhaps a minor ninth leap followed by a chromatic descent – and then immediately vary it: transposing it, inverting it, changing its rhythm, or combining it with another fragment. This created a sense of organic growth and logical progression within the apparent freedom. (Listen to his solo on "Hat and Beard"). - Wide Intervals as Building Blocks: Leaps of major sevenths, minor ninths, and perfect fourths/fifths weren't just ornaments; they were fundamental components of his melodic language. He used them to abruptly shift register, create tension, and outline complex harmonic extensions. A line might leap up a minor ninth, cascade down chromatically, leap up a tritone, and resolve with a bluesy inflection. - Chromatic Enclosure & Approach Notes: Dolphy saturated his lines with chromaticism. He would approach target notes from half-steps above or below (enclosure), creating momentary dissonance before resolution. He used chromatic passing tones extensively within scalar passages and arpeggios, blurring the diatonic boundaries. (Analyze the opening phrases of "Out to Lunch"). - "Outside" Playing with Purpose: Dolphy was a master of playing "outside" the harmony. However, it wasn't random. He often: - Superimposed Alternate Scales/Modes: Playing Lydian Dominant over a dominant chord, or whole-tone scales over altered dominants. - Implied Polytonality: Suggesting two different keys simultaneously within a line. - Targeted Dissonance: Using specific "wrong notes" (like the major seventh over a major chord) for deliberate expressive tension, knowing exactly how and when to resolve them (or sometimes leaving them provocatively unresolved). - Rhythmic Displacement & Asymmetry: Dolphy constantly played with the listener's expectations by starting phrases on unexpected beats, stretching phrases across bar lines, or inserting sudden bursts of 16th notes within a more relaxed flow. This created a thrilling sense of rhythmic unpredictability. (His solo on "Epistrophy" from the Five Spot is a prime example). - Vocal Inflections: Growls, bends, scoops, and extreme dynamic shifts were integral to his expression, making his instruments truly "speak." This was particularly potent on bass clarinet and alto. Harmony and Chord Progressions: Stretching the Canvas While Dolphy frequently played over standard forms and blues changes (e.g., "Miss Ann" on Far Cry, "245" on Out There), his approach to harmony was transformative: - Reharmonization & Superimposition: As a soloist, he constantly reimagined the underlying harmony. As a composer, he built complex, often dissonant chord structures that pushed beyond functional tonality. Pieces like "Out to Lunch" and "Straight Up and Down" feature ambiguous, shifting harmonies that create unique atmospheres. - Modal Exploration: Like his contemporaries Miles Davis and Coltrane, Dolphy embraced modal frameworks, which provided more open harmonic spaces for his linear explorations. Tunes like "Glad to Be Unhappy" (on Out There) and sections of his originals utilized static or slowly shifting modal vamps. - Bitonal & Polytonal Suggestions: His lines often implied multiple harmonic centers simultaneously. A bass clarinet line might suggest one key while the piano comping remained in another, creating rich, complex textures. - Dissonance as Color: Dolphy employed dissonant intervals (minor seconds, major sevenths, augmented fourths) not merely for shock value but as essential harmonic colors, imbuing his music with a unique tension and emotional depth. The opening chords of "Hat and Beard" are a perfect example – complex, dissonant, yet strangely compelling. - Non-Functional Harmony: In his most advanced compositions (like much of Out to Lunch), Dolphy moved towards harmony that wasn't based on traditional tonic-dominant relationships. Chords followed each other based on voice-leading, coloristic effect, or melodic contour, creating a sense of suspended tonality. Influences: Roots and Branches

Dolphy absorbed diverse influences, synthesizing them into something entirely new: - Charlie Parker: The foundation of his bebop language and alto saxophone fluency. - Bud Powell: Harmonic sophistication and rhythmic drive. - Thelonious Monk: Unorthodox harmonies, angular melodies, and the use of space and dissonance. Dolphy deeply admired Monk and recorded several of his tunes. - Ornette Coleman: Dolphy acknowledged Coleman's impact in liberating melody from strict chord changes, though Dolphy maintained a stronger harmonic awareness. - Classical Music: He had a deep appreciation for 20th-century composers like Igor Stravinsky, Béla Bartók, and Edgard Varèse, whose use of dissonance, complex rhythms, and extended forms resonated with him. He reportedly carried Varèse scores on tour. - Bird Calls & Nature Sounds: Dolphy often spoke of transcribing bird songs, incorporating their unpredictable contours and intervals into his playing. Legacy: The Enduring Ripple

Eric Dolphy's impact on jazz and creative music is immeasurable: - Legitimized Woodwinds: He revolutionized the role of the bass clarinet and flute in jazz, inspiring generations of players (David Murray, Don Byron, Michel Portal, Anat Cohen, Marcus Strickland). - Pioneered Avant-Garde Expression: He provided a crucial bridge between bebop/hard bop and the free jazz movement, demonstrating how freedom could coexist with structure and deep musicality. - Expanded Harmonic & Melodic Language: His vocabulary of wide intervals, chromaticism, and motivic development became essential tools for subsequent improvisers across styles. - Influence on Composers: His compositional approach, blending complex structures with improvisational freedom, influenced figures like Anthony Braxton, Henry Threadgill, and Steve Coleman. - Spiritual Heir: He became a revered figure, a symbol of uncompromising artistic integrity and boundless creativity. His tragic death cemented his status as a visionary cut down too soon. - Enduring Relevance: Decades later, Dolphy's music sounds remarkably fresh and challenging. His recordings remain essential listening for anyone seeking to understand the evolution and possibilities of jazz. Major Works and Compositions While primarily an improviser, Dolphy was a distinctive composer: - "G.W." (Far Cry): A complex, episodic tribute to Gerald Wilson. - "Out There" (Out There): Features cello, showcasing his interest in unusual textures. - "Serene" (Far Cry / Out to Lunch): A beautiful, flowing ballad demonstrating his lyrical side. - "The Baron" (Far Cry): Dedicated to Monk. - "Iron Man" (Iron Man): A powerful, multi-themed piece. - "Mandrake" (Iron Man): Quirky, angular theme. - "Burning Spear" (Iron Man): Energetic and driving. - "Hat and Beard" (Out to Lunch): A dissonant, fragmented theme dedicated to Monk, featuring Bobby Hutcherson's vibes and Dolphy's bass clarinet. - "Something Sweet, Something Tender" (Out to Lunch): A unique ballad featuring bowed bass and Dolphy's flute. - "Out to Lunch" (Out to Lunch): The title track, a complex, shifting composition. - "Straight Up and Down" (Out to Lunch): A bluesy yet abstract piece with a distinctive rhythmic feel.

Filmography: Capturing the Ephemeral Documentary footage of Dolphy is precious: - Jazz on a Summer's Day (1960): Features Dolphy briefly with the Chico Hamilton Quintet at the Newport Jazz Festival (flute). - Eric Dolphy: The Last Date (1964): An essential, poignant documentary filmed in Holland just weeks before his death. Captures him rehearsing and performing with Dutch musicians (Misha Mengelberg, Han Bennink), offering incredible insights into his personality and musical process. Includes stunning performances of "Epistrophy" and "South Street Exit." - Various European TV Clips: Shorter performance clips exist from German, Danish, and Swedish television broadcasts (1961-1964).

Discography: A Concentrated Brilliance (Selective Highlights) - As Leader/Sideman Leader: - Outward Bound (1960) - New Jazz - Out There (1960) - New Jazz (with Ron Carter, George Duvivier) - Far Cry (1960) - New Jazz (with Booker Little) - Eric Dolphy in Europe, Vols. 1-3 (1961) - Prestige (Recorded live in Copenhagen & Paris) - At the Five Spot, Vols. 1 & 2 (1961) - Prestige (Live with Booker Little, Mal Waldron, Richard Davis, Ed Blackwell - ESSENTIAL) - Iron Man (1963) - FM (Recorded 1963, released later - with Prince Lasha, Sonny Simmons, Woody Shaw, Bobby Hutcherson) - Conversations (1963) - FM - Out to Lunch (1964) - Blue Note (His undisputed masterpiece) - Last Date (1964) - Limelight (Recorded live in Holland just before his death) - With Charles Mingus: - Mingus at Antibes (1960) - Atlantic - Charles Mingus Presents Charles Mingus (1960) - Candid (Includes "Fables of Faubus") - Mingus Revisited (1960) - Limelight (aka Pre-Bird) - Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus (1963) - Impulse! - Town Hall Concert (1964) - Jazz Workshop (Featuring the large ensemble "Meditations on Integration") - With John Coltrane: - Olé Coltrane (1961) - Atlantic - Africa/Brass (1961) - Impulse! - Live! at the Village Vanguard (1961) - Impulse! (Includes "Chasin' the Trane" and "Spiritual") - With Others: - Chico Hamilton: Chico Hamilton Quintet with Strings Attached (1958) - Warner Bros. Read the full article

#SMLPDF #noten #partitura #sheetmusicdownload #sheetmusicscoredownloadpartiturapartitionspartitinoten楽譜망할음악ноты #spartiti

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