nutsaboutbirds - Tumblr blog

[nutsaboutbirds]

like this for a one - line sentence starter !

[nutsaboutbirds]

i apologize for being gone for so long, i’m going to try and work my way back here and elsewhere however things have been rough and i’m incredibly nervous about coming back to write on tumblr. so, again: find me on wire or u can always ask for my discord because i am buzzing to write there.

[nutsaboutbirds]

❝     so,      how far up on the list of hopefuls was i?      ❞        pounding breath escapes in sticatto measures,   preserving energy,   whilst sam’s footfalls spring back with quick succession away from steve’s practised,  noticably reserved blows.   they are only practising after all.    his wrist parries by glancing steve’s knuckles away from his collarbone and delight ripples through,   grin glowing over his face.      ❝     if i wasn’t above the tin can man,  i’m gonna cry myself to sleep tonight.      ❞      /   &  @forgries​

[nutsaboutbirds]

her doorway lingers open;  ajar to let in a breeze  or  because she knew he’d find himself here?      whims of prophecy aren’t in her official skillset but he’s never known that to have stopped her before.    ‘a girl’s gotta have a few secrets’,  her trademark smile would have told him,  he can see it now as clearly as he can see his own hesitation.  

❝      nat  -      ❞      voicing his introduction is easier than stepping forward;  she would see he’s been crying,   then.     he doesn’t remember when that last happened.      &  he doesn’t think he could bare the kind way she’d look at him if she knew.   clearing his throat, sam tries again.     ❝      you,  uh,    wanna spar?     go for a run?      ❞     /   @vlyuvdova​

[nutsaboutbirds]

❝       sometimes i think i’ve got the hard legacy,      picking up after steve,    but that’s not really anything compared to what you must have to carry.      that must be lonely.      must be heavy,  in just your hands.        ❞      /    @shelassos​

[nutsaboutbirds]

❝         you’re so late i started making up scenarios in my head to explain your sudden but inevitable disappearance.      a sinkhole opening up.     got caught up brooding too much,  y’lost track of time.     got lost trying to turn left up a street that hasn’t existed since 1983.     you fell down and couldn’t get back up.     got busy trying to perfect your hair.        ❞         sam had nursed his own empty beer bottle for so long,  he’d given up and reclaimed ownership of the one he’d bought for bucky.   give him his dues though,  it’s halfway to empty and the condesation has all been left on a soggy coaster rather than sam’s hand,  so he’d curteously restrained himself for some time.  

      ❝         am i getting any warmer?        ❞    /   @zilmdat​

[nutsaboutbirds]

spectoral​.

this  kind  of  RELIEF      (    &    this  kind  of  reservation,  because  though  he  puts  steve  up  on  the  mantle  of  heroes  to  be  admired,  there’s  no  pleasure  or  glory  in  standing  solo  at  the  top  of  the  pillar,  in  managing  the  collective  grief    &    weight  of  the  entirety  of  the  population    )    :    slipping  away  from  the  world  in  which  real,  battling  stakes  could  hinge  life  or  death,  is  a  rare,  sunbaked  surprise.    a  raucous  puzzle  of  giggling  surges  up  from  the  onlooking  kids  all  decked  out  in  their  polyester  blends  of  iron  man,  black  widow,  ant-man.    bucky  plays  up  the  gig,  drawing  another  foam  arrow  from  the  quiver  that  barely  fits  its  way  around  the  round  of  his  bicep.    

“  c’mon,  wilson.    ”    he  hollers,  voice  comedically  kicked  up  a  notch.    “    come  out,  come  out  wherever  you  are!    ”  

his  stalking  step  is  not  for  gaming    ;    it’s  all  lupine  predator  peeling  the  fletching  back  so  that  it  situates  itself  on  the  metalline  cusp  of  his  shoulder.    the  cresting  curls  under  the  clip  of  his  knuckle,  poised  to  loose  whenever  he  gets  eyes  on  that  glistening,  summer  sheen  of  sam’s  skin  makes  even  a  slivering  appearance  from  his  haven.      

the  problem    (    the  inherent,  diseased  PROBLEM    )    is  that  he  can’t  divorce  his  instincts,  the  steady  drum  of  his  heart  ruddering  against  his  chest,  from  the  toying  of  it  all.    there’s  nothing  light  about  what  they’re  doing  even  if  the  weaponry  is  spare    &    plasticine.    it  hitches  an  old,  calming  adrenaline  that  channels  through  his  veins    &    bursts  in  a  victory  march  when  he  lets  the  next  shot  fly  free  toward  the  trajectory  of  sam’s  temple.    

“    big  difference  is  now  i’ve  gotta  load  another  one  up.    ”      the  container  hosting  the  remainder  of  the  fake  darts  jostles,  clumsy  under  his  thick  fingers.    it’s  enough  time  that  if  sam  makes  a  run  for  it  he  can  get  a  decent  amount  of  space.    bucky  shrugs  into  a  half  trot  while  plying  one  up.    “    —-    waste  of  time.    ”  

❝    captain america never surrenders !      ❞     the gaggle of avid fans,   some no higher than his hip or bucky’s elbow,  have formed a rapt amphitheatre to their display.  even those pretending they’re too cool to care cast their eyes in a chalantly nonchalant manner.  their ‘civilian’ attire was enough to keep their cover at first glance but the shield and shooters give them up quickly.  not that sam minds,     least no one’s bothering him for his autograph when he’s under siege.

though he wouldn’t mind if everyone were to delete the picture of him taking a dart to the brain panel mere seconds in.  he’d really appreciate that.  

pride impeeded but not broken, sam takes the ultimate faux defense in hand as he slips to the left and away from the immediate line of fire.    one  ( unnecessary ) barrel roll over coney island’s weather worn wooden slats has him out of view and back in the game.  up and up, just like he’s wearing his wings.  over the boundaries between one stall’s trash and another’s, he embarks on creeping up behind bucky’s shoulder.

practising moon, noon and night has shown sam just how easy it is for any object to become america’s symbol of peace and freedom through out the known world.  one well timed flick has the plastic schucking its flimsy way through the air to clip bucky’s fingertips that bare another arrow.   ❝   really?    barton makes it look so easy.     getting slow, old man?      ❞

[nutsaboutbirds]

like this for a starter !

[nutsaboutbirds]

spectoral​.

“    it’s  budget-friendly.    ”      jessica  doesn’t  bat  an  eye.    she’ll  slough  the  same  pair  of  jeans  into  the  floor    &    only  change  out  a  flannel  with  the  elbow’s  blown  out    &    she  can’t  scrub  the  blood  out  of  the  collar  anymore.      “      &    i  can  buy  a  pack  of  ten  t-shirts  for  five  bucks.    something  tells  me  your  little  halloween  costume  isn’t  so  easily  replaced.    ”    

so,  she’s  a  BARGAIN-BARREL  HERO  with  a  bad  attitude    &    a  shelf  better  built  for  bourbon  than  for  the  high  shine  sheen  of  an  avengers  emblem.    so  the  fuck  what?      she  shrugs  into  the  answer,  still  hunching  her  gaze  in  on  the  fine-grained  detail  snowing  across  the  screen.    it’s  prickling  something  just  past  the  tip  of  her  tongue  that  she  can’t  manage  to  quash  into  place  with  the  pad  of  her  finger.    her  jaw  works  over  it,  souring  the  hollow  of  her  cheeks.    

“    ——–      &      i  don’t  fuck  around  with  guns.    half  the  time,  i  just  have  to  wriggle  my  goddamn  nose  to  send  the  bad  guys  pissing  their  pants.    ”  

“    madripoor.    yeah,  i  heard  about  that  guy.    sounds  like  a  real  asshole.    ”    this  is  a  degree  higher  than  the  cheating  husbands    &    bail-skippers  hanging  around  her  corner  of  hell’s  kitchen.    it  gives  a  good,  interested  itch  that  she  wants  to  follow  through  to  the  finish.      “    like  i  said    —–        ”    jessica’s  hands  hover  over  the  keyboard  before  rapping  out  a  series  of  patterns.    she  skims  the  cursor  to  a  folder  behind  her  drop  box  that  hosts  all  the  details  of  her  latest  cases.    “    i  don’t  fuck  around  with  guns  or  the  guys  who  sell  them.    ”  

click.  

“    but  the  dickheads  i  hunt  down  for  my  clients  sure  as  hell  do.    ”      a  cascade  of  windows  pour  open  on  the  screen  with  pictures  of  square  jaws,  of  sleek  haircuts,    &    of  the  ANVIL  LOGO  stamped  across  a  rucksack.      “    i  think  one  of  these  jarheads  could  get  us  where  we  need  to  go.    feel  like  playing  soldier  boy?    ”

❝      budget friendly?       you doing okay,    jones?      you need a real job?     don’t knock my halloween costume,   y’know it comes with dental and life insurance,  i know a guy who can hook you up with that kind of thing.      ❞         he’s the guy.    technically.      there’s a level of bureacy he hadn’t anticipated blocking a carte blanch approach to a new roster,   he’ll not have the same freedom that natasha and steve had when one half of the original team decided to retire,   but he’s found that fewer people argue with him now that he’s holding the shield.       -  fewer people question his decisions and motivations and intelligence,    sam knows better than to linger on why, it’ll only make him angry.

sam’s glazed over look borders on confusion when faced with a multi - million dollar mercenary -    security company should be jessica’s first clue to just how out of the loop he is about street level threats   but he knows the power brooker.     he knows how dangerous this can get within the blink of an eye.  ❝       look,  the second this gets into avengers shit or   captain america shit and you think you’re in over your head or somewhere a paycheck ain’t gonna justify : i want you to bail out.    tell me you can’t handle it.  if you don’t feel right.      ❞

the shield only protects him from harm.   he’s seen what it can do to those who get to close.   sharon.   lemar.   karli...   

     ❝       you think they’re not gonna get suspicious when i rock up?      ❞

[nutsaboutbirds]

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Episode 1 - New World Order

[nutsaboutbirds]

❥𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓   [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]   .

sentence starters based on lyrics from various songs by the band   heart .   some lyrics have been modified to be more usable .  change gendered language   &   add context to your needs .   happy roleplaying !!♡

“   i’ve  never  seen  eyes  so  blue .   ” “   i  wanna  hear  you  say  you’re  sorry .   ” “   if  looks  could  kill ,   you’d  be  lying  on  the  floor .   ”    “   if  looks  could  kill ,   you’d  be  reeling  from  the  pain   &   you’d  never  lie  again .   ” “   i’m  watching  every  move  you  make .   ” “   you  don’t  want  to  see  my  anger ,   so  don’t  you  make  another  mistake .   ” “   that’s  a  promise   &   a  threat .   ” “   if  i  was  you ,   i’d  really  cool  it .   ” “   i  was  a  fool  to  believe  in  you .   ” “   i’ve  been  waiting  for  you .   ” “   i’m  pretending   &   that’s  all  i  can  do .   ” “   the  love  i’m  sending  isn’t  making  it  through  to  your  heart .   ” “   there’s  something  that  you  forgot .   ” “   what  about  love ??   ” “   don’t  you want  someone  to  care  about  you ??   ” “   you  might  need  it  someday .   ” “   i  can’t  tell  you  what  you’re  feeling  inside .   ” “   i  can’t  sell  you  what  you  don’t  want  to  buy .   ” “   something’s  missing   &   you’ve  got  to  look  back  on  your  life .   ” “   you  know  something  here  just  isn’t  right .   ” “   hey ,   i’m  talking  to  you .   stop  yourself   &   listen .   ” “   anything  you  want ,   i  can  make  it  happen .   ” “   we  can’t  go  on  just  running  away .   ” “   walk  those  legs  right  over  here   &   give  me  what  i’m  dying  for .   ” “   your  kind  is  a  dime  a  dozen .   ” “   you’re  wasting  your  time ,   giving  me  lip .   ” “   when  you  finally  come  knocking ,   there’ll  be  nobody  home .   ” “   what  he  doesn’t  know  will  never  hurt  him .   ” “   nothing  you  ask  is  out  of  the  question .   ” “   i  can  wink  my  eyes   &   melt  their  little  hearts .   ” “   i  know  i’m  losing  it ,   look  what  you’ve  done .   ” “   you’re  not  sure  what  you  want  to  do  with  your  life ,   but  you  sure  don’t  want  me  in  it .   ” “   you  found  a  new  world   &   you  want  to  taste  it ,   but  that  world  can  turn  cold   &   you  better  face  it .   ” “   who  will  you  run  to  when  it  all  falls  down ??   ” “   ’til  now ,   i  always  got  by  on  my  own .   ” “   i  never  really  cared  until  i  met you .   ” “   now ,   it  chills  me  to  the  bone .   ” “   how  do  i  get  you  alone ??   ” “   you  don’t  know  how  long  i’ve  wanted  to  touch  your  lips   &   hold  you  tight .   ” “   i  was  gonna  tell  you  tonight .   ” “   if  i’ve  fallen  for  you ,   would  it  be  so  bad ??   ” “   i  want  you  so  bad .   ” “   look  a  little  closer ,   now ,   if  you  dare .   ” “   what  in  the  world  did  i  do  to  deserve  you ??   ” “   you  took  it  just  a  little  too  far .   ” “   now  i  see  you  for  what  you  are .   ” “   when  the  truth  comes  out ,   you  ain’t  so  tough .   ” “   i  don’t  want  to  be  strangers  at  heart .   ” “   maybe  i’m  a  heartbreak  waiting  to  be .   ”

[nutsaboutbirds]

There’s just choices… and we all got them to make.

[nutsaboutbirds]

spectoral​.

“    whatever  makes  you  feel  like  you’ve  got  your  dignity,    ”    bats  off  her  sneer  in  a  wheedle,  a  verbal  pat  on  the  shoulder.    “      —–    sure  as  shit  look  like  panties  to  me.    ”      

“    i  wouldn’t  be  caught  dead  in  one  of  those  spandex  DEATH  TRAPS.    ”      her  hounding  shoulders  hunch  in  closer  to  the  screen.    it’s  all  blurry  grains    &    thick  noise.    her  fingertips  pattern  over  the  keys  to  zoom  in,  enhance,  zoom  in,  enhance.  ENHANCE,  ENHANCE.    it’s  almost  there  in  the  way  a  forgotten  word  hovers  on  the  tip  of  a  tongue.      the  shape  is  familiar,  a  shadow  that  looms  an  uncomfortable,  unquenchable  itch  that  suddenly  sets  its  flames  loose  at  the  nape  of  her  neck.    

“    i’ve  seen  this  before,    ”    bolts  into  the  silence.      she  taps  at  the  edge  of  the  screen,  at  the  angle  of  what  is  presumably  an  elbow  dipped  into  shade.    

“    that’s  a  weapon.    ”      a  DISTINCT  ONE    ;    his  body  is  in  the  form  of  a  person  about  to  draw  a  gun.    “    —–    i’ve  seen  this  before.    it  was  on  the  news  a  few  years  ago  because  it  was  so  out  of  left  field.    ”    jessica  swishes  the  cursor  up  to  the  browser’s  entry-point    &    taps  out  a  few  buzzwords  that  will  surf  for  her  story.    “    —-      there  was  only  one  country  where  manufacturing  these  is  legal.    ”  

❝  uh huh,   i’m sure one of our suits would really cut up your look.    i mean,  it’s not like jessica jones doesn’t have a standard outfit,       like say    --   grungey jeans, bad attitude,   basic t-shirt and a leather jacket to go with matching leather boots.      ❞         sam’s appraising head to toe glance is made all the more discerning by the rim of his glasses sliding down his nose.    

             ❝      least my thing is bulletproof.    only thing that’s indestructible about you is luke’s number on your speed dial.      ❞         oh,  he’ll run across town for jessica but he won’t even give sam a text back these days.

all attempts to jibe slink away as duty calls his attention,     again.     plucking his phone back,    sam runs his gaze over each and every detail he can spare.  there’s not much to go on,   maybe the suspicion of a street sign or the impression of a long nose,   but whoever they are  :  they know how to cover their tracks.     which makes the use of a gun not licensed in any sensible port all the more   ...   audacious.        ❝      madripoor.       this guy must have a link to the powerbroker.     so,   he’s switching careers from human testing  &  financing domestic terrorism to gun running,    jack of all trades.      ❞

                  jaw working in a way that would make steve proud.       ❝      we should find his seller,  only guy with a way to get in touch with buyer and supplier.    you know anyone in this area that handles shady weapons?      ❞

[nutsaboutbirds]

spectoral​.

@nutsaboutbirds​​  from here.  

the  plastic  chucks  him  on  the  underside  of  his  haggard  chin,  another  nick  in  the  cleft  that  he  scuffs  away  with  the  broad  square  of  his  knuckle.    he  lets  it  hang  there  for  a  minute,  scraping  in  the  coarse  bristles  darkening  his  jaw    &    shading  the  hollows  of  his  cheeks.    

“    must’ve  read  wrong,  wilson,  because  i’ve  never  been  FUN  a  day  in  my  life.    ”    a  telltale  dimpling  darkens  under  the  uptick  of  his  mouth  because  as  droll  as  he  comments,  he  can’t  keep  a  straight  face.      "    &    that’s  a  helluva  long  time.    "  

but  it’s  good  to  see  the  shield  celebrated,  whether  it’s  in  sam’s  capable  hands,  or  in  memory  of  his  best  friend.    

bucky  studies  a  plastic  hammer  adorned  with  a  tuft  of  glittery  fluff  before  hanging  it  back  on  the  hook.  

“    think  i’ll  go  with  the  hawkeye  thing.    guy  runs  around  with  a  bow  strapped  to  his  back.    how  hard  can  it  be?    ”      one  eye  squinting  closed,  bucky  tugs  a  foam  arrow  to  the  nock    &    lets  it  TWANG  out  in  sam’s  direction.    

midday sun spares no mercy for either of them,   a thin line of sweat keeps sam’s shirt kissing broad shoulders that duck away from bucky’s oncoming assualt,   but sam doesn’t mind it so much  ;    not when he gets to pick out that smile trying to force it’s way through a poorly put on playact.    

yellow light strips years away from a man whose face doesn’t share his real age,   anyway.    he’s incredibly fond of bucky like this.    although sam tries not to waste time agonising over bucky’s pain  (  god knows he does it enough for the both of them.  )   it’s hard not to when he misses a joke that anyone else would have laughed at,   ducks away from physical touch,  dances his way out of attention.     it’s agonising to watch bucky do and agonising to lose out to.    

he had    ...   considered whether it was a bucky thing or a sam thing.     did he think sam didn’t need comfort from his pains,   too?    that he wanted to be lonely,  as well?

dipping behind the cover of a corner,   sam braces his back flush up against sanctuary.    scant glances to check his perimeter as if bucky’s a real threat  ;  there are kids around,   he can’t let the show down.

❝       hey,   glass houses.    i mean,    what’s the big difference between a bow and arrow  and an   ak-47?      besides style.      ❞

[nutsaboutbirds]

spectoral​.

@nutsaboutbirds​​  from  here.  

“    yeah,  i  bet  those  star  spangled  panties  really  cut  off  the  circulation  to  your  brain.    ”    

she  sidles  up  to  his  shoulder,  a  pinching  glower  hovering  as  she  looks  past  him  to  the  screen.    her  fingertips,  peered  out  from  the  half  cuffs  of  her  gloves,  inch  in  over  the  sorry  denim  cloaking  her  thighs  at  the  itch  to  get  on  the  keys  in  place  of  him.    

“    at  least  that  would  explain  why  you’re  typing  like  a  goddamn  grandpa.    is  that  how  they  came  up  with  the  nickname?    ”    both  of  her  index  fingers  punch  through  the  air  in  a  mime.    “    FALCON?  because  you  hunt    &    peck  like  a  bird?    ”  

“    let  me.    ”    she  snatches  the  mouse  in  a  quick  maneuver,  smoothing  the  cursor  over  to  a  grainy-edged  figure  silhouetted  in  the  corner  of  an  equally  pixelated  photograph  stamped  right  in  the  middle  of  the  page.    a  jabbing  point  cuts  into  a  wavy  line  out  behind  the  shape.    “          —–    what  does  that  look  like  to  you?    ”  

❝      i don’t wear panties,        i’m a grown up.       they’re called undies if you’re over thirty.      ❞

all the subtlety,   grace,    poise,    charm,    kindness of a rottweiller ambles in between sam’s hands and the screen to which he isn’t about to argue.    reputation produced by local gossip rags and tabloids lead a tarred,  messy procession all the way back to the ‘assholes’ they’ve labelled the defenders,   which was a misnomer given half a block of midtown was still being fished out of a sinkhole,    unfortunately for her,     miss. jones had been given the worst of all.         a gracious and discerning person by nature,    sam had assumed that had been conjured up in bad faith.      now,   that he’s met her    ...

not that he would ever talk badly about a lady.    (  she sure is mean,  though.  he was just stood there.  )

peering doesn’t make the picture any clearer.   neither does leaning in.    or closing one eye,  then the next.   well, her opinion of him can’t get any worse, he sighs fishing his reading glasses out of his pocket.          ❝      ...     it looks like a guy.    but there’s no way to tell with this,   it’s just guess work.      ❞

[nutsaboutbirds]

“why do you want to help me?”

𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 :  𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜  𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 :   𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚊 & 𝚜𝚊𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚙 :   𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 : 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢     𝚌𝚌 : @bledyshka

❝ when i got out of the army, everything i did, everything i saw, everything i trained to do : i couldn't talk about any of it. and i don't just mean 'cause the military would'a come after me but, uh, i just couldn't talk for a while. ❞

small talk, jibber jabber, chit chat, stuff about the weather and the state of public transport, whatever celebrity break up was happening. he was a new yorker, all that was second nature. drop him in a bar & he could rant about any litany of topics someone gave him. his father had been a pastor, able to preach from a pulpit like he was telling a bedtime story or a parable for the ages, whatever his audience needed. sam learnt at an early age how words were as necessary to a person as bread and water. when he lost his . . .

❝ i couldn't talk about what happened or my grief so i figured the solution would be to say nothing. hope that one day, it would fix itself. & more than signing up for war, that stupid ass idea could have killed me. 'cause even though i thought it could never happen to me with all the training i got, all the shit i thought i had, i still got lost. ❞

muddled, maudlin memories dig in before sam twists his attention back to yelena. if he didn't live the life they had, sam wouldn't be able to believe she exists. those odd eyes suit the oddity she is, neither belonging here or there, adrift in between a duty to her country & a duty to herself. of all things, sam understood that.

❝ i don't want you to get lost. i get how being on the outside can be more confusing than being in. & the rest of it, the worst of that shit?

being a living legacy. being the person after. being made up to follow an image you can't complete. being alone in that? i get that, too. so, if you need to talk, if you wanna talk, if you want a friend - well, cap's and widow's work well together is all i'm saying. ❞

he smiles a little then, crooked, showing up the gap in his teeth. ❝ not to mention, helping's my whole thing. ❞

[nutsaboutbirds]

the only power i have is that i believe we can do better.  / captain america writing blog, curated by martha.