#IVE NEVER BEEN TO NEW YORK .... ive never even seen a play or musical live im sooooo hehe

[mikuhats]

soo fucking excited might go to new york to see a dolls house on broadway 😁😁😁☺☺

[batarangsoundsdumb]

hae interrogationes multae respondeant quia demens .

if you read this entire ask post you deserve a gold star and financial recompensation

Um, Obviously because when you’re adopted by a white guy you automatically become white duhhh

this is about this post lmao and yeah youre absolutely right, you have to hand your poc card in when you get adopted by a white guy.

Do you think Cass would listen to Yanni, the YouTube channel epic symphonic rock, or some other stuff? There's some cool mashups but idk if that's up your alley, I kinda feel like I'm pushing it with my weird taste of music by recommending an orchestra cover of metal, but i just love that sort of thing and mashups :P @harvestyourcherries 

i haven’t heard of that? but in my personal (correct) opinion steph listens to classical music, and then both modern and older, and then also stuff like black sabbath, iron maiden, but also hardrock and hardcore. i like the idea of cass just liking the most extreme screaming songs full of noise and then also listen to pachelbel’s 370th sonata yanno? THANK YOU for the rec tho

speaking of ur cass playlist hc...reminds of the time (yesterday) i found 2 playlists randomly on spotify from the same user. one was abt 3 hours of instrumental/classical "dark" & "nostalgic" music. the other almost 11 hours of nothing but hardcore bass/synth/electronic music. just an incredible tightrope act to put on in public. the synth one was also called like "psalms for synth sluts" which is Also incredible

tbh i LOVE synth SO MUCH like for no reason at all but then also cannot handle a poppy electronic beat lmao. but this seems like the kinda thing i’d do but just in one (1) playlist bc i just sort songs by vibe instead of genre? that’s how i end up with britney spears and billy ray cyrus in the same playlist. 

Oh, I want Kate Kane playlist next! It would be amazing if you could do one when you have time and will 🙏

how rude would it be of me to just say no? like sorry kate but idk you and also you seem way too keen on the us military for an institution that homophobically targeted you? (and also commits war crimes) but let’s unpack the fact that the institution that caused the death of your mom and sister and also got you blacklisted for being gay is still one you align with???

'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' --- when i tell you i fucking screamed LOL!!!!!!! i can imagine the cameraman not knowing if he should cut to commercial or keep it on these two weirdos fighting on stage (bruce definitely ruffled dick's hair/noogied him right?? 

about this post but yeah lmao. this cameraman just turns to like the audience to get a reaction and it’s just multiple moments of CLEAR shock.

you are the only funny person on this hellsite

how egotistical is it for me to say that i get this ask multiple times a month? bc it literally happens so often it’s hilarious to me.

Wish there was more john/Bruce content 😔😔😔 was so hungry I actually looked at canon media 😔😔😔 (Justice League Dark babeeeyyyyyy)

check out batman: damned for some mediocre content but at least it’s john/bruce (also very interesting story and stuff, just got very >:( over this weird part where harley quinn tried to r*pe bruce or something? it’s not for everyone)

dick grayson but he's nicki minaj

his anaconda don’t want none,,, unless...... 

Dick Grayson was never a cop, he played Marshall on Paw Patrol

you are SO right. also paw patrol is a fucking good show idc. that shit could’ve been the new steven universe on this hellsite.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CS1lI0bLI7-/?utm_medium=copy_link

...

why do people keep reposting my CONTENT. if you are not funny yourself don’t just grab shit off of tumblr and post it on insta,,, get a life. sidenote: should i start an insta and get all these ppl to take my content down that would be funny as hell.

Might I suggest for a Gotham City Meme: something about the true crime fandom thirsting for the rogues gallery

ok can i just say something slightly controversial?? no? i don’t find true crime ppl who are into criminals funny, that shits disturbing irl im not gonna bring that into my very chill universe.

i may have never seen a 'jason cleaning guns in sink' fic but i do know he WOULD

THANK YOU

bestie im sorry to say this to you but while you can, and people do wash their guns in the sink, that is a lot of lead in a very vital part of the kitchen.

people tend to do it in the bathtub.

WHY???? like damn why do you even have guns

i dont think i read many gun sink fics exactly but i have read lots of fics where jason cleanes his guns in the living room. usualy dissembles them and cleans them with a rag i think

lmao fair enough, like i think that’s a large part of what i remember as well.

if you say you've seen/read gun sink fics I believe you. I think those of us who didn't see them are lucky or maybe didn't search for fics by tags or something idk

i mean ive never sought them out but i HAVE seen them,, like definitely i know almost for certain.

saw your tags and I'm interested in Steph/Kara now. They would be the most chaotic couple <3

literally thoooo, i have a wip where they get together in a zombie apocalypse and like UGGGHhhh i am so in love with them.

I am the Breece anon. Thanks for the recommendation; am reading now. I’ve always been a hardcore Superman fan because I love my pure himbo farm boy. My logic is, if one Bruce is a Broose, then multiple Broose are a herd of Breece. And this is a hill upon which I will perish.

fair enough,,,, like moose, meese, goose, geese, bruce, breece. i get your logic and i stand by it as well. (glad you enjoyed the comic recs!!!!)

It's a beautiful day in Gotham, and you are a group of horrible Breece

OH my god dude lmao

there only being 42 fics on ao3 for tim and bernard is honestly so sad i need more

it’s like twice that now!!! we did it lads. (tho very sad that my fic isnt number one but like number 4 :((((  )

i'm too late you already did the poll lol but may i suggest bethy (bernard + timothy)

shit dude that wouldve been so fucking funnyyyyy. think ppl have just stuck to timber tho, tim/bernard kinda died down recently and i think it’s too bad, they’re a great couple and i love them.

Wait, hear me out

Bernothy @redlightofdawn

great recommendation (lmao this ask is from like a month ago) but very sorry to announce that NARDTH is the superior shipname

Wait, we know that bernard likes milfs (Tim's step-mom) but what about dilfs? gilfs?

Wait no, I regret sending that ask

these were two seperate asks and they’re HILARIOUS. in my personal opinion tho,,, milfs, gilfs, dilfs are just about vibes and bernard is just attracted to sexy ppl who may sometimes be milfs, dilfs, or EVEN gilfs.

crime in bludhaven would drop to half if nightwing had a boob window. in this essay i will-

WHERE’S THE ESSAY ANON, WHERE’S THE FUCKING ESSAY

Wait if Barbra and Tim r at opposite ends at all times what happened to Barbra once everyone’s Tim’s ever love before started dying lol

she won a lottery ticket and spent 2 weeks on a resort in the bahamas before returning home and finding out that the joker was arrested for tax evasion and then spent a month staying at her big tiddie goth girlfriend’s house before conner came back to life and she broke her pinkie playing table hockey.

Why is the opposite end thing so funny and compelling to me. Tim comes back from his depression quest for Bruce and Babs is now a literal god

lmao when tim loses his spleen barbara reaches nirvana.

Are you still taking music recs because I have three songs that remind me of Jason that I think you'd like

send to me or lose a toe

🌸 ⭐ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ⭐🌸😋

thanks, i wont tho on account of i wont.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMduBy3Sr/

⬆️

This is the whole of Blüdhaven and everyone anywhere.

Nightwings ass alone saves more people in a calendar year and does more for so society than most heroes do their whole career.Also u are one of the funniest tumblr pages out there. The vibes are unmatched and the memes and tags ✨send me✨.Thank u and goodnight @julia-flow 

fanksss also lmao.

That's going to be a little bit difficult to explain, but

There's some music that you listen to and you think, "oh my gosh, I can perfectly imagine Dick Grayson singing this song, with the same voice as the singer because that voice matches with Dick Grayson"?

oh yeah totally lmao. i have a lot of songs that i think are just entirely dick grayson yanno? kind of all of my playlists have that vibe, but i really find bleachers to fit with dick? idk.

"Lois lane/Superman" fics this, "Lois lane/Clark Kent" fics that, (/lh) let's get into the real good stuff. Some people ship Lois, Clark, and Superman as a throuple. Most popular fic tag for sure

yes totally, i think they’d be absolutely killer on ao3 and clark gets so fucking embarassed about it.

I miss your post, hope you’re doing okay!!

haha this was like 2 months ago, but i was doing fine then too! just didn’t have a lot of inspiration in terms of content.

Doot doot!

noot noot

I’m confused. What did DC do now? Like with nightwing? And another sibling? Please spoil everything for me

lmao they gave him a secret sister plotline where they had his dad cheat on his mom with tony zucco’s wife, bc dick’s life wasn’t traumatic enough yet.

sorry but it's so funny that batman is called "the dark knight" when the gotham city baseball team is called the gotham knights. it'd be like if a vigilante was running around new york called like "the scary yankee"

lmaooo no. but like yankee comes from dutch names or something so wouldnt it be HILARIOUS if gotham knights came from like german names and bruce would be running around called the dark KLAUS UND NIEK @graysonnightwing 

(not a batcest shipper) it’s so funny to me that the responses are “i’m a batcest shipper because i can differentiate fiction from reality and and it doesn’t bother me personally, but i understand why you oils think it’s weird” to “i wish all batcest shippers a very fucking die”

yeah lmaoo. i personally basically flipped my entire stance around to ‘i dont care please leave me and everybody else alone’ bc i think there’s really no point in starting a moral dillema over some fucking fandom bullshit. Please just,,, go home,,, log off, find a nice forest to have a little walk in and remember that somewhere in history, somebody probably died in the place you’re standing. and you will also die someday, and somebody will have to look at your internet usage and see you fighting multiple people anonymously while being named ‘nightwingsbuttchin200186′ like... calm down, we’re all gonna die this is not the thing to worry about.

so since like "wards" don't really exist in modern society almost all the batkids are foster kids, right? i used to work in the system and imagine: monthly visits from social workers and guardian ad litems, bruce having to get permission to take the boys anywhere out of state, calling their social worker at like 8 a.m. like "yeah dick broke his arm again... a gymnastics accident this time...." their poor social worker. bruce send her a huge bouquet and box of chocolates every month to stay on her good side

i imagine the social worker just getting into the case like ‘yeah let’s get this kid a good guardian’ and then ending up having to work with 22 y/o bruce wayne and his 50 y/o dad. and so this social worker is like ‘okay we can work with this, this is the best home i can find’ and then like it ends up landing on its feet and then the kid gets adopted and then they get a call a year later like ‘uhm so hi, this kid tried to steal my tyres can i adopt him?’ and like 3 years later. ‘okay so basically, my neighbours’ kid imprinted on me and now they’re dead, can i keep him?’ two years later it’s like ‘okay so this assassin child-’

ever since I saw that one post of yours, the meme that's something like "I know that abba's backup dancer got me" with a picture of discowing, I've been haunted. Every once in a while I'll be minding my own business then the image of abba's backup dancer dick grayson aka nightwing aka discowing will flash in my mind and I'll be frozen in place. Today at work I was in the middle of folding clothes and suddenly once again discowing entered my mind and I suddenly lost the ability to see anything except He. Thank you.

wow. the IMPACT.

Braver than any US marine man props to you🤝

this shit is about the time i wrote an article on batcest, like man,,, the fact that i didn’t get cancelled is MIRACULOUS. also like,,, uh if anybody on here did gossip on me,, send screenshots i’d love to see it.

Hello, just wanted to say your article was great. Thank you for taking the time to provide an unbaised answer. It should provide people with nuances they couldn't possibly conjure on their own.

May I ask where your username originates from?

yes you may (also thanks!!!) i thought it up when i was trying to find an original username bc i didnt want to be called like ‘timdrakes something something’ or ‘jason todd something smoething’ or ‘dick grayson something something’ yanno? so i thought batarangs, they sound so dumb and that’s my username story... now it’s my whole entire brand lmao.

yno that bit in kick ass where red mist asks kick ass if he wants a hit of his blunt, was that the inspo for stoner tim

no? it’s bc i think stoners are hilarious and drugs are great. (dont do drugs tho) 

How would u feel if someone actually wore one of those bruce or ollie pride shirts u edited

fenomenal next question.

Dick as lil huddy and Jason as James gave me radiation poisoning and now I’m screaming crying throwing up so thx for that

(Rico suave as Tim is perfect tho literally no changes needed)

i was so funny for that shit wasn’t i??? lmao i loved those weird ass fancasts

You're doing the Lord's work by providing us with all these Gotham/Metropolis citizens memes, thank you for being so relentlessly funny @nellethiel-aranel

you’re welcome!! i really enjoy making memes, but getting validation for my content and my memes is REALLY nice.

Bruce is such a slut in your memes and honestly i love that for him @rhodey-rhudert-rhodes-main 

he’s that much of a slut irl too dw.

Bruce and Alfred have an emergency pride flag for the batkids. Oliver Queen printed an emergency "I love my gay son" t-shirt and as soon as Roy told him he was dating Jason, Oliver started wearing that shirt everyday and Roy always cringes when he sees it. Oliver also has an emergency "I love my lesbian daughter" shirt just in case for Cissie.

lmao YES i had a post like this bc like all of their kids/family members are so gayy

stop bringing back batfam fancasts it is not real it is not real it is not- 😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀

oh yes it is my darling.

did discowing burn down the notredam because he hates the bees? @allulily

no he did it bc fuck the french.

im gonna beg for 1 thing and 1 thing only. please please please put physical by olivia newton john on dick's playlist

okay then beg. bc i wont. physical reminds me too much of glee and that hurts me mentally.

your playlist is sorely missing some Madonna. Specifically Into the Groove, Like a Prayer, and Vogue

i’m scared of madonna that’s why she’s not on there. she haunts me in my dreams.

suggestion: son of batman by aaron dews for dick’s playlist🤩

sorry, i listened to it and the vibe didn’t agree with me.

Hear me out, metropolis citizens sending rare pair fics of Clark Kent x Superman fics to Lois to edit

yes, absolutely hilarious. even more funny if they send like physical copies, no address attached and lois sends it back marked with red ink, SOMEHOW

Imagine all the smut Clark must of read editing the fics

clark reads smut confirmeeed

NOT LOIS READING SUPERBAT PORN AND EDITING IT A 2AM 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

hc that alfred is a meta that boosts healing factor of the people around him. if the bats are injured as much as they seem to be they would be doing bat stuff MAYBE half the year. no one including alfred knows about this. whenever the kids move out they inexplicably dont recover from injuries as fast and feel better whenever they visit the manor they just chalk it up to homesickness. bruce just thinks he heals really fast. alfred thinks everyone doesnt take care of themselves properly @finchcollector

that’s actually such a great idea, but i think that alfred would find out and learn how to concentrate it better so he can help more people, bc he’s great and i love him.

One of your dickfast posts reminded me of that tweet that goes: 'so you've had sex how many times? Yeah technically that's not a bromance' lol that's dickwally or dickroy

literally tho. like that’s all of dick’s friendships. once it gets past a certain time dick is like ‘wow i wonder what it would be like to make out with wally, wally come make out with me’ and wally’s like ‘we’ve done this like 40 times, dick, you know what it’s like’ and dick is like ‘sorry are you complaining?’ and they just make out.

superfam and batfam associations??

-batman and superman

-dick/barabara and supergirl?

-conner and tim

-jon and damian

pls enlighten me I am confused

nope,,, uhm batman and superman, but dick and superman as well, and then conner and tim, jon and damian and steph + babs with supergirl

I came across a fic in which Wonder Woman calls Batman "Stella" (like Stellaluna, the children's book) and I can imagine the batkids hop on the trend and maybe copies of the book appear at random places (aka, everywhere Bruce frequents)

sorry can’t reciprocate that was the name of my high school chemistry teacher and it gives me nightmares to think about.

good human what are your pronouns?

wouldn’t you like to know?

I need me some gothamites preferring harley over joker memes

everyone prefers harley over joker youre just very fucked up if you dont

don't understand why people try to add like veteran policy to the batfamily

dick pulling out his veteran batfam member card so he can eat first: step aside, peasants

Do you know the song Simmer by Haley Williams? It (the first verse anyways) reminds me of Jason? It's about rage.

damn yeah i LOVE HAYLEY!!!! youre right thoo

Okay so I like listen to your stoner Tim Drake playlist 24/7 but would he listen to skegss? Also I keep adding songs mentally it’s killing me 😩✋🏼 Anyways,, I literally love and worship your playlist 😃🤞🏼 And uh yeah have a good day ✨

stoner tim drake playlist is lyfeeee. also dont know who skeggs is? i’m stupid? have a good day!!

All the Robins (and Batgirl) decide to trade costumes for one night just to fuck with Batman and all the villains in Gotham. @subspacecadet 

batman knows it’s them youknow but like,,, what does he call them? he’s like ‘red hood?’ and 3 people answer and he’s not about to compromise some identities so he’s just Pissed.

I aspire to treat cops the way my dad treats them. This man is a 45 year old Asian immigrant to the US and the treats them like his pets. He talks about them like unruly children. Sometimes he pays off local cops to shut up and stop acting racist. And usually it works. I don’t know why but I can see Oliver Queen doing this

vibes... and also yes? oliver queen handing a local cop a donut to shut the fuck up lmao. but yanno i commit enough crimes to not really want to ever see a cop ever, so they kinda scare the everloving fuck out of me.

seeing as tim hasn't aged in years, that means he was 17 at peak emo tumblr era. im back on my emo tim bullshit and im not letting it go

emo tim had a wattpad account send tweet

People seem to think that batman is so dark and serious when the rainbow batsuit is right there. He wore it with no shame.

dude the 60s were a DIFFERENT TIME

dick grew up in a circus, jason grew up on the streets, and tim was probably raised by the internet

all of them cuss every other word and you cannot tell me otherwise

bitch i KNOW but dc has to change to an 18+ rating if they want to sell comix with swear words in them so we gotta deal with imagining the swear words in ourselves

thoughts on teen titans and young justice

haven’t seen teen titans on account of havent seen it and young justice was LITERALLY my favourite thing ever, tho i do gotta admit it’s not at all similar to the young justice comics unfortunately. i really wouldve liked to see timmy bart kon cassie and cissie animated on tv!!

ew ew ew how to delete batcest shippers I genuinely digust them

log off tumblr?

Okay as poc who was called racist for calling an Italian pastabrain: in the batfam are Italians bit Damian just yells various insults about the others being Italian. Just him yelling “What are you doing you moronic spaghettihead!” At steph etc

huh? i meant real italians. homeboy is telling steph he hopes she chokes on her fucking garlic.

I think it's dumb as hell to pull the batman is the best fighter in the batfam argument because like it's just irresponsible of Bruce to let his kids fight when they couldn't possibly be on his league or something

fair enough, but also like who cares they could all kill you just sit down and take a beating.

lady shiva, thalia al ghul and Selina Kyle are all milfs @notanothertimburtonenthusiastugh 

unfortunately, i have to admit,,, you’re right

why tf didn't someone give joker a death sentence already? like he's a mass murderer...give him the electric chair treatment wtf

idk i think plenty of people would have tried to murder him already (boring answer is: he is a popular character so they can’t kill him off bc he brings in lots of money)

There’s no such thing as “ copaganda”.

all american media is propaganda. happy to clear this up for you

is it bad that I find lady shiva owa owa

no. find her as owa owa as you want.

aight I'm guessing the order of your favs in batfam:

1. tim

2. Steph

3. dick

4. Duke

5. the rest

you’re wrong but it’s cute that you tried, i generally don’t have favourites, but i have a special place in my heart for steph, tim, dick and cass. bc they were like my introduction to batfam. but damian, jason, duke, bruce, babs and alfred are NOT FORGOTTEN OR UNLOVED

oh my god i was literally just readily willing to believe that italians werent white ty for clarifying it was a joke im so dumb sdkvjskdfs

i mean some italians aren’t white? italian is a nationality as well as an ethnicity, so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

since I saw so many people doing headcanons about the nationalities of batboys, I see Dick as an Italian.

dont know if youre serious or not, but sure.

super random but

jason 🤝 damian

old english

lmao fair enough.

tim absolutely has 1 gay uncle and his parents shit talk said uncle all the time so after bruce adopts him he specifically reaches out to this uncle to be like "heyyyy just so you know you majorly influenced my life yes i know i havent seen you since i was 5 and at the family reunion yes i know you dont remember my name idc thank you im gay too" and then they never talk again.

yuppp lmao that’s definitely something that could happen. i can also consider tim having no family members, like none. until he does like a dna test and he realises he has like an aunt living barely 2 miles away from him who’s like some illegitimate child of his grandpa.

I dare you one of them sends clark superman/clark fic and clark corrects the shit out of it and then goes like ps his dick is not that big, just telling as someone who has seen it. internet either explodes or goes who tf did he not fuck at this point.

i think everybody would call clark a buzzkill and try to cancel him over that.

so you're telling me Tim Drake wouldn't buy Starbucks?

no. dunkin donuts all the way

One of my favorite things is imagining people finding out jason came back from the dead and being like "oh no does he have magic powers now?!?!?" and he just pulls out a gun and tries to shoot joker

now he doesn’t even have the gun :) lmao

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

bruce gets codename ‘ugh’ everytime. he hates it.

crazy that tim being a 17 y/o ceo and a stoner who does brand deals are all actual canon things written in detective comics comics and not made up for shits and giggles by you, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb @rowdeyclown

SO CRAZY HUH?

batman au where everything is the same but his utility belt is bright pink

absolutely, but i raise you, his boots light up like sketchers when he kicks people.

unbeknownst to the superhero fandom writers in the dcuniverse, clark and BRUCE are one of the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag on ao3. clark writes the best lois x superman angst, full of unhappy endings and scenes that are a so detailed you'd think you were in the middle of a superhero beatdown. bruce made an ao3 account to fuel "the do the butts match" thing, and makes batman/bruce fics from time to time. he wrote a superbat fic as a joke but ended up making it REAL porny. @concrastinator

dude they’re WAY too busy for that. Oliver Queen and Hal Jordan on the other hand are the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag writing what is Mostly porn.

When the dining table topic gets to politics, Steph says "eat the rich" as the solution

bruce just silently takes away her fork and knife while she’s talking.

[dirty-holy-things]

Christmas Tree Farm

Part III of the Invisible String Series

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV Read on Ao3.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x AFAB Reader

Rating: Mature, for slight references to sex and swearing.

Words: 6.6k update

Chapters: 4 / ?

Warnings: Very few. Swearing, subtle references to sex.

Author's Notes: This story is broken into two segments, with the first half being Reader and Bucky's first Christmas together, and the second half being Reader and Bucky's first Christmas spent with the Wilson's, their found family.

Summary: The winter holidays can be a challenging time for many, and you and Bucky were no stranger to lonely Christmases. But love has a curious, insistent way of melting away the ice that locks away and protects our hearts; and as time passes, both you and Bucky finally allow yourselves a little bit of that holiday cheer.

If you’d like to be included in any updates, please fill out my taglist form!

The city lights somehow shone even brighter, thanks to the addition of copious (or one could say, excessive) amounts of Christmas lights that likely threatened to upend the entire city’s power grid. Every storefront was decked out with tinsel and trees, each mannequin was dressed in their holiday best, and you couldn’t take two steps without being greeted by a vibrant advertisement for “This season’s must-buy holiday gifts!” While you certainly weren’t a Grinch by any means, you also hadn’t had much of a reason to celebrate the holiday through the past few years; that was, until you found yourself a 106 year old, semi-stable boyfriend with a secret love for Christmas that was comparable to that of an eight year old on a sugar high.

The city lights somehow shone even brighter, thanks to the addition of copious (or one could say, excessive) amounts of Christmas lights that likely threatened to upend the entire city’s power grid. Every storefront was decked out with tinsel and trees, each mannequin was dressed in their holiday best, and you couldn’t take two steps without being greeted by a vibrant advertisement for “This season’s must-buy holiday gifts!” While you certainly weren’t a Grinch by any means, you also hadn’t had much of a reason to celebrate the holiday through the past few years; that was, until you found yourself a 106 year old, semi-stable boyfriend with a secret love for Christmas that was comparable to that of an eight year old on a sugar high.

Bucky Barnes was an intimidating figure to those who saw him in the streets, but after nearly a year of dating, you had thoroughly cracked that hard exterior to see the gentle and romantic man who had been locked away and frozen for so long. People on the streets saw a powerful man with a gleaming metal arm; you saw a man who could pick you up with ease, throwing you over his shoulder before pinning you down and tickling you. Shoppers in the grocery store saw a brooding and intimidating figure; you saw him fall asleep on the couch, his frame protectively curled around his cat Alpine. You had once been like all those strangers, only seeing that which was on the surface, but you had come to know and love him as a whole person.

And as such, it did not come as that much of a shock when, shortly after Thanksgiving dinner, Bucky’s requited love for Christmas broke through for the first time. “Hey, doll,” he started, an inquisitive tone in his voice. “Where’s your Christmas music? Been goin’ through your records but I can’t seem’ta find any.”

“Don’t have any,” you called out from the bedroom, folding the last of his laundry that had taken up permanent residence in your top right dresser drawer. You strolled into the living room to see him still flicking determinedly through your collection, hoping against hope to find something that would put the apartment into the holiday spirit. “Buck, I’m pretty sure I don’t have any Christmas records — but I can play some music from my phone, if you want me to.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweets.”

He sank into the plush fabric of your sofa, sighing defeatedly. You laughed at his exaggerated response, before moving to sit next to him, draping your legs across his and nestling into his arms. You pulled your phone out of the pocket of your leggings, searching for a Christmas playlist, before you were distracted by Bucky’s lingering, pensive look. “What’s on your mind, Bucky?”

He sighed, metal hand tracing cool circles into your exposed skin. “It’s nothing, it’s silly.”

You frowned, not thrilled with his sudden withdrawal. “Clearly it’s not nothing. C’mon, Buck, you can talk to me.”

“I haven’t had a real Christmas since 1943,” he said slowly. “Hydra certainly didn’t celebrate, and after I came back from the Blip, I didn’t have anyone to share one with. I thought — I had thought, maybe, since I have you, we could do something for Christmas together. But, if you’re not really in’ta Christmas, that’s okay.”

You could tell that his casual tone was forced, you could pick up the subtle changes in volume and pitch. Your heart ached for him, as you thought about the loneliness that he had endured for decades, all of the holidays and joy and traditions and memories that he had missed out on; and while you weren’t a Christmas person by nature, by god, you were going to be one for Bucky Barnes.

***

You fully assimilated into the Christmas spirit and enthusiasm, trying to provide Bucky with every sweet, cheesy, moment of joy that he had been denied for so long. The weeks leading up to Christmas were positively filled to the brim, near-bursting, with holiday spirit and theme-appropriate music, the lyrics echoing throughout your apartment to the extent that you wondered if future tenants may one day hear ghosts of Christmas past — also known as the ghost of Bucky Past, as he sang along to every tune that crooned its way through the small, shared space. You had never seen him so indulgently and freely happy before, so you didn’t begrudge the fourth or fifth playing of the Holiday Hits records, or his subtly-insistent urging for a real Christmas tree.

It was the second week of December when you executed your ‘master plan.’

Manhattan wasn’t exactly known for its Christmas tree farms, so you had planned on making the long and laborious trek out of the city to fetch your own real tree. Bucky was more than happy to oblige, with the promise that he could fell his own Christmas tree; you had no doubt that your sweet, sensitive, and powerful super-soldier could fell whatever tree stood before him. But aside from your confidence in his physical abilities, you wanted to give him this Christmas moment, this Christmas memory — you wanted to give him the opportunity to bring his tree back to your shared space, and to create these Christmas memories with him. You wanted to break his pattern of ignored or heartbroken Christmases, and after he had confessed his love for the holiday that Thanksgiving night, you had been thinking about all of the ways you could make this year special for him.

Bucky had been more than thrilled by your suggestion to drive out of the city for an evening, particularly for a Christmas tree, and the two of you sank into the slow, gentle peace that steadily grew as the car carried you further and further away from the bustling city. You had picked a destination that was quite far from the city center, having seen the positive reviews online and the promise of free hot chocolate; and to be honest, you thought that the brief break from city life could do the two of you some good.

He had picked you up from your apartment, after acquiring this evening’s rental car; and his time spent battling lazy rental car representatives and New York traffic had given you the perfect amount of time to enact your vision for the apartment before his call rang through, informing you that he was here and waiting by the front door. Your drive out of the city had been filled with more and more Christmas music, cups of coffee, and a stash of chocolate chip cookies that you had decided would be appropriate fuel for the evening ahead. Bucky had eaten ten out of the twelve you brought.

The Christmas tree farm was illuminated with countless twinkling globe lights, a soft golden glow radiating around you and bouncing off of the freshly-fallen snow that crunched underneath your boots. Bucky grinned from ear to ear, in an easy way that you had never seen before, and you felt a rush of confidence and surety about your somewhat-secret plan.

Upon your arrival at the Christmas tree farm, Bucky had quickly picked out the prettiest tree in the entire lot; the branches were tightly packed and well-filled with needles that smelled of pine and childhood memories. The attendant who had handed him the axe to fell the tree watched in shock and awe as Bucky cleaved through the tree trunk with two strong strokes; you laughed quietly into your hot chocolate, bemused by your boyfriend’s blatant display of strength. Bucky strapped the tree to the top of the rental car with impressive speed, and it was not long afterwords that you were hurtling back into the city, towards the apartment that the two of you now called home.

Forcing the tall tree into the slim elevator was a challenge, one that Bucky took in stride; and after multiple curse words and sweaty exclamations of frustration, it finally fit to the point in which Bucky could abandon the advanced geometry he had been working at. The ride upwards was humorously tense, as Bucky observed you being pinned in by the tree, and you nervously awaited the arrival that you had planned for your sweet super-soldier.

Your front door now held a large wreath, bedecked with poinsettias and glimmering gold tinsel; the sight caught Bucky off-guard, as he recognized that this was a new addition. “I like the wreath, sweets,” he grinned, moving to shift the tree out of the cramped elevator and free you from its heavy, pine-scented branches.

“Thought some Christmas decorations were in order,” you laughed lightly, finally freed from the cramped elevator; and you briefly wondered how long that fresh pine scent might linger within the small space. Bucky kept the tree upright while you nervously opened the door, suddenly anxious that maybe you had taken the Christmas enthusiasm too far.

Bucky was a man on a mission, as he determinedly hauled the tree through the hallway and into the living room; you had previously cleared a corner for the tree, right next to your patio door, hoping that the ambient light from the city would help to illuminate the tree that would now fill the recently-vacated space. You watched him corner the tree into the wall, ensuring it was supported appropriately, before he turned to survey the apartment that was surrounding him.

You might’ve gone a bit overboard with the Christmas decorations, but you would’ve thrown yourself overboard ten times more to see that smile spreading across Bucky’s face.

The entrance to the apartment now displayed a vibrant poinsettia wreath, and a welcome mat that said ‘happy holidays,’ a sentiment ensconced by the image of ivy and red berries. The tea towels in the kitchen were red and green, boasting cheeky jokes about holiday cheer, and the glassware had been replaced with wine glasses and rocks glasses of emerald green crystal. The kitchen table was fully dressed for Christmas, with gold and green accents at every turn, highlighted with poinsettia blossoms. Your plush ivory couch was now draped with multiple blankets: one chunky knit, one soft and fuzzy, and a wool blanket with a plaid blend of emerald green, dark navy, blood-red, and gold. All of the picture frames and artwork on the wall had been wrapped over to look like Christmas presents, the fireplace was bedecked with mistletoe and holly, and even the bathroom hand soaps had been swapped out for holiday scents.

“Sweets — what’s, what’s all this?” Bucky asked breathlessly, surveying the unexpected sight before him.

“It’s our first Christmas,” you responded, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved to wrap your arms around his waist, savoring the combined scent of pine and that which was distinctly Bucky. “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes — and I want to make every kind of Christmas memory with you. I want us to decorate our tree together, I want us to sneakily wrap up presents for each other, I want us to wear silly matching pajamas, I want us to leave the decorations up for way too long just because they bring us back to this perfect moment.”

Bucky’s strong and irresistible hands guided your body towards the couch, your bodies collapsing softly into the cushions as his plush and chapped lips pressed into the soft skin of your neck, biting gently at your racing pulse. You could feel the excitement and joy radiating from Bucky, comparable to the blazing heat of the sun, or a fire, or any other brightly-burning thing, and you knew that your decision to go all-in for Christmas had been the right one. Grinning to yourself, you thought about the extensive, and… myriad applicability of mistletoe you had acquired, and how you might work this into a Christmas miracle of your own.

“I love you, doll,” Bucky exhaled against your flushed skin. “I’ve never felt so fuck’n lucky, to have someone like you lovin’ me.”

You allowed yourself a moment to sink into the weight of his words, allowed yourself to feel appreciated, valued, desired, wanted. “Loving you is the easiest thing in the world,” you whispered, your hands tracing gently across the sharp and chiseled planes of his face. “Loving you is as easy as breathing… even when you steal all of the covers, or insist on rewatching Lord of the Rings for the fortieth time.”

Bucky laughed, a deep chuckle echoing from his chest as he pulled you closer against his thickly-muscled body. “Looks like quite a lot of mistletoe here, doll,” he grinned, pressing a casual kiss against your forehead as he surveyed the state of the apartment.

“Oh, yeah, that was intentional,” you quipped, giggling as you leaned in for a kiss; only to have Bucky pull away, a devilish and almost dark grin on his face.

“Y’sure you’re ready for that?” He asked, his voice holding a shred of a threat and the weight of a promise.

“Bring it on, Barnes.”

*********************************************************

Christmas had grown to become a full-fledged, extravagant, blowout event with each year that passed. The holiday season started earlier and earlier, as you both plotted and planned for how to one-up the other with some sort of holiday surprise or thoughtful gift; and you eventually grew to ignore the odd looks of your neighbors as the poinsettia wreath was now regularly hung before Thanksgiving dinner was done cooking.

This year, however, was going to be different. After a handful of long-weekend trips down to Louisiana to visit Sam, Sarah, and their family, you and Bucky had decided to take an extended vacation - two weeks, to be exact. The two of you would be sharing both Christmas and New Years with the Wilson family, and you couldn’t possibly be more thrilled — or anxious.

Over the past few years, Bucky and Sam had settled into a brotherly sort of friendship, full of barbed comments, silent hugs, and quiet words of encouragement and advice; and after you met Sarah on your first Memorial Day trip to the small town, the two of you had taken to one another like lifelong best friends, sharing a love for merlot and a sense of worry for the two men who were dead-set on saving the world.

So it came as little surprise when the Wilsons invited the two of you for an extended stay; and you had eagerly agreed to the idea of both a vacation, and a holiday spent with your found family. Bucky had pretended to be resistant for a moment, mumbling something about ‘not wanting to share his time with you,’ but had caved easily when you pressed on the matter. He was likely just as eager to have a family Christmas as you were — but Sam certainly couldn’t know that.

You had spent nearly two months leading up to your trip relentlessly questioning Sarah and Sam about gift ideas, feeling an immense pressure to get things right. You struggled to keep up with the ever-evolving interests of AJ and Cass, and you felt the need to find something perfectly sweet and thoughtful for Sam and Sarah, as they had been so kind as to invite you and Bucky into their home for the holiday season. Bucky was able to sense your nervousness about finding the perfect gifts, and was able to remain fairly level-headed and reasonable as you perused countless stores. However, as empathetic and kind as your super-soldier may be, he was still prone to bouts of boredom or hunger.

“Look, sweets, we could get the kids gift cards and I’m sure they’d be more than happy —“ Bucky started, before you cut him off with an icy glare. You were in the fifth store of the day, and while Bucky’s patience with you had extended far past a reasonable amount, he was admittedly wearing thin.

“No gift cards,” you bit, cutting him off harshly, before rubbing your hand across his forearm gently in apology. “I know Sarah said they didn’t really need any more gaming stuff, but they’ve got a pretty good deal for the new Xbox here…”

Bucky chuckled lightly, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss on the temple, forgiving your earlier tension. “With the way you’re try’na spoil them, you’d think they were our own kids.”

You blushed, knowing he was likely right. You were prone to gift-giving and over-indulging the wants and whims of those you loved; Bucky knew that firsthand, and was fair in assuming this would extend to all you loved — whether they were currently in existence or not. “Just imagine if we ever do have kids, Barnes,” you said lightly, hoping the barely-concealed eagerness in your voice didn’t betray you. “Honestly, you’ll be even more of a sucker than me.”

“Me? No, not at all,” he huffed, arms crossing over his broad chest.

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from within, unable to picture a situation in which Bucky would be anything other than a marshmallow around children, particularly his own. “Between the two of us, you’re the one who will be a softie. Mark my words, Barnes, you’re gonna be wrapped around a tiny little finger one of these days.”

He chuckled softly, eyes flitting lightly across your body. “Y’call me Barnes an awful lot, sweets.”

You nodded, shoulders raising as if to say, so what?

“Makes me think you might like the name — y’maybe might even want it for yourself,” Bucky grinned, a simultaneously mischievous but sincere glint in his eye.

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging your shoulder into his chest. You returned your focus to the sale tags in the store, trying desperately — and futilely — to quell the reflexive, undeniable excitement that came with the idea of a life with Bucky.

Marriage, a home, babies, the whole nine yards — but you were in Target, you were getting way too ahead of yourself. That was a thought for another day, another time.

***

Your arrival at Sam and Sarah’s home had been just as warm and welcoming as you expected, with Sarah ushering you and Bucky upstairs to the spare bedroom that had basically become yours after the extensive number of vacations and visits. You and Bucky both slept well that night, as the long drive had worn you down, and for the first time in several months — if not over a year — you were up the next morning before Bucky Barnes.

It was Christmas Eve, and the excitement of this day was not lost on you; rolling away from Bucky’s solid grasp was a challenge, but you managed to do so without disturbing the sleeping brunette who had been wrapped around you like a weighted blanket. You laughed quietly to yourself as he sleepily grabbed for your pillow, pulling it inwards to cradle it between his arms.

You stealthily snuck out of the room, wanting Bucky to get whatever measure of rest possible, and made yourself decent before heading downstairs to find Sarah in the kitchen. She was dressed and ready for the day, and you slumped into a kitchen chair with a yawn.

“Coffee’s ready, I’d suggest y’get it before Sam and Buck are up.” Sarah joked with a sleepy smile. So far, only the two of you were up, and you gratefully accepted her recommendation for a cup of coffee, appreciating the warmth and rush of caffeine that it offered.

“Is there anything I can help with?” You asked, as the two of you sat down at the kitchen table together.

Sarah smiled into her cup of coffee, taking a long sip before responding. “I’ll probably have’ya give me a hand with the pancakes, you’re a good judge for when to flip them,” she commented, eyes wandering to the bay window that offered an exceptional view of the sunrise. “You can also help me by giving me a heads up about the boys’ Christmas presents.”

You instinctively felt the need to say no, to preserve the integrity of the surprise and excitement of Christmas morning, but you realized that telling Sarah wouldn’t spoil the surprise for the boys. You excitedly discussed the details of the gifts, both for the kids, and for Sam and Bucky, and despite the clock indicating an obscenely early time of 7:48AM, you still felt the Christmas spirit radiating in the cozy kitchen space.

You and Sarah worked together to prepare a full breakfast, consuming cup after cup of coffee until you heard the unmistakable sound of Bucky stepping heavily down the stairs and towards the kitchen. Stepping away from the pancakes for a moment, you quickly started to brew another pot of coffee; and as you returned to your station by the stovetop, you giggled as you felt Bucky’s arms wrap securely around your midsection.

“Well this is a Christmas miracle,” Bucky whispered into the soft skin of your neck. “You’re up and outta bed before me.”

You laughed, turning to faced him as he continued to hold your body against his. “We’re not even to Christmas yet, Barnes — who know what kinda surprises might be in store for you.”

Bucky hummed suggestively, his teeth barely grazing your skin as you shivered against him. Your body instinctively molded to his, and you were in the process of turning around for a kiss when you heard, “Ah, ah, ah!”

You pulled away from Bucky with a laugh, seeing Sarah standing by the sink, hands planted firmly on her waist as she stared the two of you down with the kind of glare that only mothers could possess. “Not in my kitchen! Save that shit for Brooklyn.”

There was an undeniable heat in your cheeks, and you could see the pink tinge that Bucky’s face took on as Sarah called the two of you out. He still kept his hands on you, but with less suggestive placement. “M’sorry, Sarah, I just couldn’t help myself.”

She rolled her eyes before tossing him the coffee mug she had just finished drying; Bucky, of course, caught it despite the lack of warning. “Well, help yourself to some coffee and breakfast - I suggest you get started before the boys are up, it’ll be a frenzy before too long.”

Bucky laughed and grabbed your mostly-empty coffee mug as he strode across the kitchen; he was filling the second cup as a thunderous sound echoed through the house, as Cass, AJ, and Sam quickly filled the remaining space in the kitchen. The boys were startlingly hyper despite having just woken up - you couldn’t remember the last time you woke up that exuberantly - and Sam yawned while making a beeline for the coffee pot that Bucky held in his metal grasp. The two men exchanged the coffee pot silently, but peacefully; and you and Sarah stepped back from the kitchen to rest on the couch, to enjoy the remainder of the morning and watch the feeding frenzy that was comparable to piranhas descending on the sun-streaked Louisiana kitchen.

***

The remainder of Christmas Eve had gone smoothly and happily; AJ and Cass fell asleep close to 11PM, about halfway through The Grinch, and Bucky and Sam had carried them to bed despite weak protestations that they wanted to stay up to catch Santa. As soon as Sam and Bucky returned to give the all-clear, indicating the boys were soundly asleep, you and Sarah set to work on bringing out all of the gifts that had been carefully concealed.

You were stacking presents meticulously when you saw Bucky taking a handful of the Christmas cookies that had been left out for Santa; Sam had noticed as well, and he frowned. “Hey, man, I don’t see you in a red suit with a white beard,” Sam whispered loudly.

“Don’t see you in one either,” Bucky responded around a mouthful of a poorly-iced sugar cookie. The five of you had spent the afternoon baking and icing cookies for Santa, the neighbors, and the mailman; and while it was adorable and endearing, there was a distinct lack of artistic talent for cookie decorating.

“Bucky, share the cookies,” You laughed, nudging him to hand over the plate that he had taken hostage. Bucky grumbled, but you could see the way the corner of his lip quirked up; he was just as amused and happy in this scene as you were. The remainder of the cookies were shared, Sarah finished stuffing the stockings, and you placed the last present under the tree; looking at the last gift, you saw your swooping handwriting on the tag: To Bucky, with love.

“Is that everything?” Sarah asked, an exhausted but content look upon her face. “Last call for gifts, before Santa takes off for the night.”

Bucky coughed, giving Sam a side-eyed look that didn’t go unnoticed by you. “Should be everything,” Bucky responded cooly, but you could see the subtle flexing and whirring in the prosthetic arm that indicated a sort of nervousness within him. It was Christmas Eve, what could he be stressing about? Unless a gift had gotten lost in-between airports; but you had accounted for everything, you were sure of it. Shaking off the feeling as a side effect of exhaustion, you smiled when Bucky extended a hand to help you off the floor. “Ready to say g’night, doll?”

You nodded, and the both of you said quiet goodnights to Sam and Sarah before heading to bed for the evening. Tucking yourselves into the warm, soft bed, you saw the clock blink at 12:08AM. “Merry Christmas Bucky,” you whispered softly, planting a gentle kiss against his forehead, the soft glow of the moon illuminating the few silver hairs that had slowly appeared along his hairline.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he mumbled happily, from the warm space between sleep and waking, the space where anything good could feel true, the space where Santa might be real and the world might be kind.

***

You had forgotten how early kids tend to wake up on Christmas morning. A silent apology to your parents passed through your groggy mind as you worked to drag yourself out of bed, having been roused by the inescapable sound of fists banging on the closed door and children’s muffled screams of, “Wake up! It’s Christmas!”

Bucky wore his usual early-morning scowl; one that would’ve sent fear coursing through any rational person, but it was a look you knew and loved. He pressed the soft, downy pillow over his head, trying to muffle out AJ & Cass’s insistent excitement. “Too… early…”

You laughed hoarsely, your voice not fully awake just yet. “You try telling them that, see how far it gets you,” you suggested, as you grabbed for your glasses and the pair of pajama pants that you kept handy for decency’s sake. Bucky grumbled again, and glancing at the clock, you realized you couldn’t blame him. It hadn’t yet cracked 6AM, and while Bucky was the early riser out of the two of you, this was a solid hour before his internal clock would typically wake him up. “C’mon, Buck, up and at ‘em. It’s Christmas morning, there’s presents and coffee waiting.”

The two of you finally emerged from the door, disheveled and sleep-deprived, only to be greeted by the loud cheers of AJ and Cass, who informed you that everyone else was already up.

***

The den quickly devolved into a chaotic mess of torn wrapping paper, slackened bows, crumpled tissue paper, and more toys and electronics than the room should’ve rightly been able to hold. The adults sat back and watched as AJ and Cass tore through every present, shouting and jumping and screaming in excitement with each gift that was voraciously revealed. You had shrugged your shoulders in a subtle I’m sorry to Sarah, as the kids triumphantly lifted the new Xbox above their heads. She didn’t seem to mind too much, however, after watching AJ and Cass tackle Uncle Bucky to the ground with promises and threats of ‘kicking his old butt at Mario Kart.’

As the glitter and tinsel settled throughout the love-filled room, AJ and Cass proceeded to withdraw from the early-morning celebrations to play with their new assortment of toys, games, and electronics. You had finished your second cup of coffee and had sent Bucky to retrieve your third, while you and Sam plucked the remaining gifts from underneath the tree, to be distributed amongst the adults.

You passed Sarah a thick envelope that was tied with a silver ribbon, and watched as she pulled forth a stack of papers of various sizes — airplane tickets, hotel check-in details, Broadway tickets — and happy tears flooded her cheeks as she hugged both you and Bucky tightly, thanking you for the fully-planned vacation. “Oh, and it’s not written anywhere officially, but we’re also volunteering to babysit,” you added, and laughed as Sarah grinned and clenched her fist in excitement.

“We are?” Bucky asked, pretending to be surprised. You elbowed him gently, and he corrected himself. “Yes, of course we are.”

The gift-giving continued, with lots of laughter and happy tears. Sam and Sarah had gifted you the slate-blue Le Creuset you had been eyeing wistfully for years, and Bucky received a set of tickets to a symphony performance and dance night, featuring hits from the 1940s. “Might have’ta bust out the old uniform for this one, doll,” he said with a sly grin. “Used to look real nice in those slacks, y’outght’a have the chance to appreciate the view.”

“Oh, I can only imagine the number of girls you pulled in that uniform, Barnes,” you teased. He shrugged nonchalantly as a thick arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you closer into his relaxed body. “Hey, ease up — you’re gonna make me spill my coffee!”

Bucky planted a solid kiss against your forehead as he drew you in closer, albeit with more consideration for the scalding-hot beverage in your hand this time. “That’s ancient history, sweetheart. No need to worry about Dolores at the nursing home stealing me from you.”

“Y’sure about that, Buck? I’ve heard stories about you and a redhead named Dolores…” Sam interjected, a playfully antagonistic hint to his voice. Bucky retaliated by throwing a pillow at Sam’s head, with the kind of ferocity that could only come from a super-soldier. “Kidding, kidding,” Sam laughed, as the pillow hit him squarely in the shoulder.

Both you and Bucky laughed, and he plucked the cup of steaming coffee from your hands, taking a sip before commenting further. “Only one girl I ever truly loved, sweetheart, and she’s right here with me,” he said softly, his voice rough and gravelly, but full of sincerity.

You knew that Bucky loved you, and you knew that you loved him. Little else in the world seemed to matter past those two facts, but you also understood that your shared love existed in a complex and challenging world. A world that you struggled to find a place in, a world that had all too many places for Bucky to fill; the freedom of narrative had been stolen from both of you, but as you retrieved your Christmas gift for Bucky, you hoped you had found a way to give a piece of that narrative back to him.

You handed him a thin, flat box; meticulously and nervously wrapped, the tag unmistakeable; To Bucky, with love.

You watched him open it excitedly, and he pulled out two photos. The first photo was from the original Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian, the one that had stood for several years now. The second photo was one that you had taken yourself, of the recently-updated exhibit; specifically, the segment of the exhibit that documented Bucky’s history. You watched his facial expressions closely as he examined the differences, and you saw his jaw twitch and throat tighten as he focused more closely upon the second, most recent image.

“W-what’s this, doll?” He asked, his voice shaking.

You placed a hand gently over his, the one that held the image of the updated exhibit. “This,” you spoke softly, pointing at the inscription, “This is your legacy, Bucky Barnes. The true one. The one that matters, the one that countless people will read every single day. This is the story that everyone will know.”

Looking at the photograph grasped tightly within Bucky’s human hand, you read aloud the new inscription.

“Born in 1916, Barnes grew up the oldest child of four. An excellent athlete who also excelled in the classroom, Barnes enlisted in the Army shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. After winter training at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, Barnes and the rest of the 107th shipped out to the Italian front.

Captured by HYDRA troops later that fall, Barnes endured long periods of isolation, deprivation, torture, and experimentation; but his will was strong. In an ironic twist of fate, his prison camp was liberated by none other than his childhood best friend, Steve Rogers, now Captain America.

Reunited, Barnes and Rogers led Captain America’s newly formed unit, the Howling Commandos. Barnes’ marksmanship was invaluable as Rogers and his team destroyed HYDRA bases and disrupted Nazi troop movements throughout the European Theater.”

Bucky nodded, commenting quietly. “I’ve seen this part, at the Smithsonian.”

“Yes, that was the original; the one you would’ve seen. They also noted your date of death — but as you well know, there’s more to the story,” you added gently, drawing your finger across the image to direct Bucky’s attention to the new addition.

“Barnes was tragically captured by HYDRA operatives after what was perceived to be a deadly fall. Captain America and the Howling Commandos mourned their loss of their brother and companion, with the unit fully dissolving after the loss of Captain America.

Barnes was kept as a HYDRA prisoner of war for decades, before being freed through the work of his childhood best friend. Recruited by Rogers to fight against the Titan known as Thanos, Barnes fought valiantly alongside the Avengers and helped restore the world to its rightful state.

Barnes is recognized as one of the great heroes of our time, having successfully overcome the might of both HYDRA and Thanos. As a nation, and as a global community, we now look to Barnes as an example: an example of what is good, what is right, what is resilient, what is brave and unbreakable.”

Your hands were shaking as you finished reading the new inscription, the new addition to the exhibit; and while your hands were shaking, all of Bucky was shaking. You reached an unsteady hand out towards him, letting it settle onto his shallowly breathing chest. “This is how the world will remember you, Bucky. Not as the Winter Soldier, but as a hero, as James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier was never you — and nobody will make that mistake again.”

Bucky huffed, exhaling strongly, and you could see that he was fighting off the tears that were threatening to spill from his ocean-blue eyes; you reached to hold his hand, squeezing it tightly as you smiled up at him. His bottom lip trembled slightly as his free hand came up to stroke your face; you leaned into the cool feeling of the vibranium against your warm cheek and kissed the corner of his hand that lingered against you.

“How’d you manage to pull this off, doll?” Bucky asked, voice shaking.

You shrugged and smiled playfully. “I think you’re forgetting that I work for the Smithsonian Institute, Buck. I was able to pull a few strings, call in a few favors — and anyways, museums are pretty heavily invested in having the correct information.”

Bucky laughed hoarsely, the tears receding before they had the opportunity to fall. Sam and Sarah had watched on quietly, both of them feeling grateful for the acceptance and love that you and Bucky had found with one another. “Y’know, Buck, I was thinking that your gift was pretty impressive, but after this… I dunno, man. She might have you beat.”

You looked back and forth between the two men; clearly, secrets had been exchanged, and you had been left out of it. Bucky winced as he leaned over to retrieve your gift, agreeing with Sam. “Yeah, shit, I don’t know how I can follow that. Rewriting history? Jesus, you didn’t even give me a chance.”

Bucky placed a long, narrow box in your hands, and despite his previous comment, he still smiled excitedly as you picked at the red, snowflake-covered wrapping paper. “Whatever it is, Buck, I know I’m gonna love it.”

The lid to the box opened with ease, and the contents both shocked and confused you for a moment. Your fingers nimbly grasped the silver dog tags that rested within the box, the metal chain clinking against itself as you looked more closely.

JAMES B BARNES

32557030 T42 2B

R. BARNES

3092 STOCKTON RD

SHELBYVILLE IN

The tags had been unmistakeable, undeniably familiar, from the moment you laid eyes on them. Holding the tags tightly within your hand, you turned to Bucky with questions in your eyes, and on your lips, but he beat you to it.

“Yes, these were mine. But they’re yours now.”

You stuttered, still shocked by the gesture. “B-But Bucky, aren’t you supposed to keep these on you? Isn’t it like some sort of rule? In case — oh, god, in case anything ever happened —“

Bucky shushed you as you became increasingly worried by the thought of something happening to him, the thought of him disappearing without anything remaining to identify him as the man that you loved. “Shh, doll. Nothing’s gonna happen to me, and that’s exactly why I’m givin’ these to you. I promise, I’m never gonna leave you. I’ll never be far enough away from you to need these ever again.”

While Bucky may not have cried, you certainly did, unable to fight off the swell of emotions that hit you like a tidal wave — but a tidal wave of all good things. The weight of his words ad his gesture was overwhelming; he was handing you a piece of himself, entrusting it to you, and promising that you’d never again have to face a world without him in it. You thought about these same dog tags, how they had rested against his chest for decades, and now having this piece of him so close to your heart threatened to entirely overwhelm you.

“I love you, Bucky, god, I don’t even know what else to say right now, I love you more than anything —“ Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and you breath was a staccato rhythm as your gaze flitted between the dog tags and the man they belonged to.

Bucky grinned, and you could see the threat of tears had returned. “Just promise me you’ll wear ‘em — and that you won’t lose ‘em.”

You nodded and smiled sweetly at him, before handing him the dog tags so he could fasten them around your neck. His hands cupped your chin and brought you in for a gentle kiss, despite the protests of Sam and Sarah; but they sounded worlds away, because your whole world was right here, holding you, and would never let you go.

***

Taglist: @bdavishiddlesbatch @aleynaandrews @who-is-a-heretic-now

[teeth-and-tea]

ANIME & MANGA I HAVE BINGED IN THE LAST MONTH: May 2021

I've Been Hunting Slimes for the Past 300 Years and Now Ive Maxed Out My Level: incredibly long name aside, cute af slice of life that suffers Same Face Syndrome. I'm still happy to watch it because of how feel good and fluffy it is though, Im probably gonna forget about it in two or three years tho. 8/10.

Don't Toy With Me, Miss Nagatoro: I found out this was a webcomic first and suddenly all the HORNINESS made so much more sense. A Femdom, Degradation, Humiliation, Dacryphilia Bullies to Lovers story disguised as a high school rom-com which, I'm not going to lie, misses SKEEVY CITY by mere inches on a regular basis. However, I'm a Dom/Switch and this entire relationship sets off my dom brain center like New York City just shy of midnight. So if you're into that sort of scene, this anime is for you. If not, it's still fascinating but you're probably gonna be a little put off by how mean the Girl!Bully is to the guy MC. Unless you find out something about yourself, in which case, congrats! Stay safe, sane, consensual, and learn about the traffic light system on top of safe words, I promise you'll have a better life in general after that. Still Ongoing, currently 10/10.

Fruits Basket: IM GONNA CRY I LOVE THIS ANIME SO MUCH???? The original anime came out when I was in... I think middle school and my parents were really strict on what I watched so I never got to experience the first wave and I never bothered to watch the show ever after I moved out of the house years later. However, now that I'm much older I honestly can say this is one of my favorite anime to date, and all the characters are charming, lovable, with their own problems that I can connect to or sympathize with, and I love the MC which is always a treat tbh. Except Akito. Akito can suck a sandpaper dick. I'm only on S2 tho so no spoilers! Anime 11/10.

Monster Girl Doctor: went in thinking it was gonna be a monster girl who's a doctor with a homoerotic assistant (her name is SAPPHY okay sue me for thinking it) and ended up watching the entire dubbed harem series. Honestly, I've seen worse and this one has consistent follow-through on interesting characters and backstory enough for me to shove aside the blatant under-monstrousness of the female monsters and the harem-ness of everything else. Dubbing is honestly really good, which is a treat, and the monster designs are not the worst and the MC is tolerable. Honestly, I don't mind having watched it! The mix of cgi and the traditional animation together work pretty strangely though, and it often doesn't flow super well. 7.5/10

So I'm a Spider, So What: Dubbed version which honestly isn't that bad. Took me a bit to get into it, but after realizing that it's got a mismatched timeline a la The Witcher, it made so much more sense. Heavily done in cgi, and you can definitely tell between the 2D and 3D animations, but not the worst in the world. I went in not expecting much but it ended up being an Issekai I can stand and even enjoy. On god has a decent story... with the spider. I'd be a liar if I didnt say I skipped some of the human parts just to get back to the best part of the show. 8/10.

Somali and the Forest Spirit: I'm so fucking nostalgic for this thing it makes me want to go and hug my dad. About a human girl under threat of being eaten with a monster-dominated world. Very obvious "humans fear what they don't understand" message but instead of the humans learning tolerance it's what happens when they get annihilated first so like, kudos for the mangaka for having the guts to do that. I cried like a baby regularly. It's really good, I watched the dub and ID WATCH IT AGAIN!!! 9/10.

To Your Eternity: Oh my god. O h my g o d. Fell in love on the first episode, ngl. About if an immortal being learned how to be a person from scratch. I love it. HOWEVER. Keep a box of tissues on you at all times because you're gonna need them. I'm only on EP7 because that's all that's out right now but just know. I love it. Not for everyone but certainly for my "what do we define as human and the human condition" ass. 12/10.

Those Snow White Notes: A sports anime without any sports. About shamisen playing which is cool because I never realized how cool this instrument was??? Its neat af. OP1&2 are by Burnout Syndrom so know theyre fire. Gonna be real, its pretty alright, but not extraordinary. You can tell they were using the characters as archetypes rather than actually characters which kinda kills a lot of the emotional value you could've had, but I'm still gonna watch it. It doesn't make me cringe as hard as other sports anime tho so I consider it toptier in that regards but if you're a big sports anime fan you might be bummed out by it. Every single musical performance is INCREDIBLE tho. A solid 8/10.

Toilet Bound Hanako-kun: THE ART OMFG IT'S SO GORGEOUS. Listen, if you took coptic markers and gave them an animation budget with some manga panel direction thrown in there, that's this anime. It's beautiful. Gorgeous. I'm in love with the aesthetic every second. Story? Really good. Characters? I love the MC and his evil little twin brother asshat. Demons? Not super imaginative but I'm carrying on happy as can be anyways. Dubbing? A bit shaky at times but I found the voices charming if a little off for some of them. I'm already waiting for the second season with popcorn at the ready. 10/10.

Prison School: I watched this directly after Hanako-kun and it was like I got slapped in the face by sweaty unwashed titties and some fedora wearing schmuck's piss kink. No character is likable or redeemable. I finished it, but at what cost? 2/10 and only because a character shit his pants and I laughed.

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle: watched this right after Prison School and it was NECESSARY tbh. Its so CUTE and honestly, im not even kidding you, the fucking funniest anime I've seen in months. I watched the dub and the VAs are having the time of their lives working on this anime not just giving it their all but literally just going ham. Its great. If I read this im sure id be bored outta my mind but the VAs giving it a joyous performance make it an insta fave for me tbh. 9/10.

Sk8 the Infinity: i watched the dub with my bro and I can confirm that its a spectacular show because we both loved it and we have vastly different tastes. Incredibly SUSPENSFUL AND STRESSFUL for an anime about skateboarding but we finished it in a single sitting tbh. The last episode is not dubbed for some reason but we still loved it. Like if Free! was less obnoxious but the only fan-service here is Joe ♡ a beefcake who owns my lesbian heart. I think there's exactly one named female character tho and I legit couldn't tell you what it was if there was a gun to my head. So, over all, 9.5/10.

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime: I'm going to be entirely honest, I went in thinking it was going to be a boring isekai of no value. I was right about the Isekai part. It was honestly pretty interesting and focused on nation building like you're playing civilization rather than the usual "Get Stronger" narrative or "Get Some Pussy" narrative most isekais take which is delightfully refreshing. Granted there are flavors of that in this which means it doesn't alienate the big isekai watchers out there, but it's not the whole dish and it doesn't make me want to cringe the same way others do. You've got a slime MC just vibing and building a nation of monsters nbd. Does lose points for making the female monsters more humanoid than their male counterparts but makes them back by only doing perfunctory fan-service and nothing that makes me want to cry... except the butt sumo episode but in fairness it was all a terrible dream. Literally, the MC refuses to dream anymore after that. solid animation, decent voice acting, decent story, made me realize how HUGE this is in the Light Novel community???? There's like 18 fucking novels and that's WILD. 8.5/10.

MANGA:

Spirit Photographer Saburo Kono: a one shot special by the mangaka of The Promised Neverland! Honestly a really delicate touch of both super creepy and really touching, and I'm not gonna lie I'm bummed that this isn't a bigger project but the single chapter makes it a good taste for their style. I've been wondering if I wanna read/watch The Promised Neverland and now I think I will. 10/10

Deranged Detective Ron Kamonohashi: from the mangaka of Hitman Reborn comes this Sherlock and Watson derivative! Not even 20 chapters out yet with a sort of spotty schedule, I honestly love it even thought it's exactly as you expect. HOWEVER. Kamonohashi the "Sherlock" character uses mental pressure to kill all confirmed murderers and it's up to Toto the "Watson" character to save all those people before Kamonohashi kills them! It's just recently introduced a "Moriarty" family of crime lords (not a big spoiler don't worry it was obvious) so the tension surrounding Ron's past is amping up rn. Personally, I think the art is GORGEOUS, the characters engaging, and the story quick enough to keep my interest. Most mysteries are solved within a chapter or two so you're not stuck 20 chapters into one locked room mystery which is just peachy tbh. RN, 10/10. If this gets an anime, I anticipate a legion of fangirls who ship the two main characters along with their many friends. I've been alive too long to believe otherwise.

Don't Toy with Me, Miss Nagatoro: Yeah I read the manga after I watched the show. A slower build than the anime, but it works for the format, if theyd done the same with the show then I don't think it wouldve done as well. Honestly? Cuter tbh but just as horny. You dont start really LEARNING about your character until like, chap 65 tho and no real "drama" happens until like 75. A good chunk of the chapters are like 8pgs so its a breeze to get through. I love these slow burn idiots of the century. 9.5/10 because you can DEFINITELY tell the mangaka does hentai too.

Yugen's All-Ghouls Homeroom: one-shot by the mangaka for Food Wars, it's no wonder there's this constant perviness from the MC, a guy who can see and exorcise spirits. Takes place at an all girl's finishing school with KICK ASS monsters tbh, kinda bummed its not longer. The MC? Blatant monsterfucker who is also a CONFRIMED monsterfucker???? Idk i vibe with that single emotion. Everything else is hit or miss. 7/10 for monsters and cool concept, lost points for the MC very pointedly being okay with admitting he'd wait for the teenagers to be adults tho. Creepy af. Could live without that.

Hell's Paradise: I finished the entire 127chps in 3 days and I was really enthusiastic about it 90% of the time thinking about how deep it was and then I actually thought about it and I ended up being very neutral about the whole thing tbh. The art is fantastic tho, but DEFINITELY deserving of the M rating. Tits. Tits everywhere. But not tits to be ecchi over, no, monster hermit tits on beautiful women-ish figures. Now generally I give that a pass but a huge theme in the story is that men and women are "no better than one or the other" but like, lady tits are what you see 99% of the time. Men tits are few and far between. I call bullshit on most of the "deep" themes is what I'm saying, so it's like the mangaka was trying for those deep thoughts but missed the margin a little too far for my preference. That being said, the MC is a married man who loves his wife which automatically makes him my favorite character so like... idk so many good things, so many misses, but overall really spectacular themes and imagery. Unique but classic all at once. It's getting an anime and I have NO IDEA how much censorship they're gonna be doing but they're going to be doing SO MUCH. Oh yeah, and one guy is a plant/human hybrid who fucks a 1000 year old plant-hermit which makes him a canon monster fucker. And one canon non-binary character who I, a nonbinary, actually like. So like... gosh I've got mixed feelings. 8.5/10.

Choujin X: From Sui Ishida, mangaka to the mega hit Tokyo Ghoul comes this brand new manga!... Of one chapter, lol. Not really binge-y because it's just the one chapter out right now but I'm already keeping my eye on it. The grasp on anatomy in the art is PHENOMENAL and you can see Ishida flexing his art skill which is great. Can't give a true rating but I'm giving it a tentative 9/10 because I'm excited to see more.

Shag&Scoob: technically not a manga, its an ongoing webcomic I binged an subscribed to in one day and I just think it deserves more attention. Starts off funny with "what if Scooby Doo had a gun" and has been led to "what if all cartoons are aliens that survive and receive their powers by the humans that love them in an epic war with Martians." On god, its good. I finished the current series in a couple hours so it's a breezy read, highly recommend it. 9/10.

To Your Eternity: Yeah I watched the anime and then finished all current 143 chapters in like 3 days. GOD IM WEAK. I don't buy physical manga unless I know I want to remember the story forever and I'm already budgeting for the current books out. Yeah, this is a good series. That being said, definitely not for the faint of heart or those who suffer under common triggers like suicide, molestation, death, etc. It's all framed as bad and necessary to the story don't get me wrong, but it's there and has lasting affects on the characters. Incredible story telling by the creator of A Silent Voice. Keep tissues nearby at all times. 12/10.

[uomo-accattivante]

I recently came across a bunch of press articles and photos about Oscar Isaac that are so old, they appear to be out-of-print and pre-date social media. Considering they were probably never digitally transcribed for internet access, I’m guessing that the majority of current fans have never seen this stuff.

Even though a lot of these digital scans are challenging to read because they are the original fuzzy news print, I think there some gems worth sharing with you guys. Over the next several weeks, I will transcribe and share those gems on this page. Hope you enjoy them!

Let’s start with this fantastic 2001 profile piece done before Oscar was accepted into Juilliard:

South Florida’s rising star isn’t just acting the part

By Christine Dolen - cdolen@herald.com

February 4, 2001

As fifth-graders at Westminster Christian School in Miami, Oscar Isaac and his classmates were asked to write a story as if they were animals on Noah’s Ark. Oscar turned in a seven-page play – with original music – from the perspective of a platypus. Then he starred in the production his teacher directed.

He hasn’t stopped expressing himself creatively since. Today, Isaac is one of South Florida’s busiest young theater actors, and certainly its hottest. And not just because he’s a slender five-feet nine-inches tall with an expressively handsome face and glistening brown eyes.

Since making his professional debut as a Cuban hustler in Sleepwalkers at Area Stage in July 1999, he has played an explosive Vietnam vet in Private Wars for Horizons Repertory, a pot-smoking slacker in This Is Our Youth at GableStage, another Cuban on the make in Praying With the Enemy at the Coconut Grove Playhouse, the entrancing narrator of Side Man at GableStage, a Havana-based writer in Arrivals and Departures for the new Oye Rep and, most recently, a young Fidel Castro in When It’s Cocktail Time in Cuba at New York’s Cherry Lane Theater.

Beginning Wednesday, he’ll be juggling five roles in City Theatre’s annual Winter Shorts festival, first at the Colony Theatre in Miami Beach, then at the Broward Center for the Performing Arts. But that is not all: During the two weeks he is doing Winter Shorts, he’ll also be playing dates with the punk-ska band The Blinking Underdogs (www.blinkingunderdogs.com), which features him as lead singer, guitarist and songwriter.

Oh, and he just got back from auditioning for New York’s prestigious Juilliard School of Drama.

All this for a guy a month shy of his 22nd birthday.

Sure, you could hate a guy who’s that talented, that charismatic, that transparently ambitious. But the people who have worked with Oscar Isaac don’t. On the contrary, they’re all sure he has it – that magical, can’t-be-taught thing that transforms an actor into a star.

Playwright Eduardo Machado, who put in a good word for Isaac at Juilliard, says “he does have that star quality that makes your eyes go to him. It’s great that someone with that talent still wants to train.”

“He has a star quality that’s rare in a young actor,” adds Joseph Adler, who directed him in Side Man and This Is Our Youth. “Without a doubt I expect to be hearing great things from him.”

‘I JUST LOVE CREATING’

Isaac, who also makes short films, can’t say exactly why he was attracted to acting. He just knows it makes him happier than anything, that it’s what he was meant to do. And he’s been doing it since he was a 4-year-old putting on plays in his family’s backyard with his sister Nicole.

“I just love creating, whether it’s music or films or a character on a stage. I love taking people for a ride,” he says. “In Side Man, every night I would love being that close to the audience. I felt like I was talking to 80 of my closest friends.

“I could feel what the audience was feeling.”

His powerful, mournful-yet-loving monologue near the end of the play, he said, “worked every night. I knew it would get them. I’d hear sniffles.

“But it had less to do with me than with the atmosphere [created by the playwright and director].”

You could understand if Isaac, surrounded as he is by praise and possibility, had an ego as burgeoning as his career. Instead, he channels the positive reinforcement into confidence about his work.

“He has such a charm and an ease onstage, but he’s very modest,” says New York-based actress Judith Delgado, who shared the stage with Isaac in Side Man. “He’s hungry. He’s got moxie. I was blown away by him.

“He saved me a couple of times. I went up [forgot a line] and that baby boy of mine came through. He’s a joy.”

FORGING HIS OWN PATH

The son of a Cuban-American father and a Guatemalan mother, Isaac was never a stellar student. But he found ways of turning routine assignments – like the Noah’s Ark story – into creative challenges.

His science reports were inevitably video documentaries underscored with punk music. He acted through middle and high school, though he had a falling out with his drama teacher at Santaluces Community High in Lantana over his misgivings about a character. When she refused to cast him in anything else, he got his English teacher to let him play the dentist in Little Shop of Horrors his senior year.

His skepticism about authority and love of playing the devil’s advocate have long made him resist doing things the usual way. His post-high school “training” consisted of one semester at Miami-Dade Community College’s South Campus (where he met his girlfriend, Maria Miranda), touring schools playing an abusive character in the Coconut Grove Playhouse’s Breaking the Cycle, and working as a transporter of bodies at Baptist Hospital, where he absorbed the drama of people in emotionally intense situations.

“It was the most magnificent dramatic institute I could’ve attended,” Isaac said. “I was able to observe the entire spectrum of human emotion, people under the most extreme duress. I was mesmerized watching the way people interacted with each other in such heightened situations.

“I learned everything about the human condition, and it was real and harsh and brutally honest.”

Yet even given his propensity for forging his own path, something nudged him another direction while he was in New York making his Off-Broadway debut in December. Walking by Juilliard one day, he impulsively went in to ask for an application. Though the application deadline had passed, Isaac persuaded Juilliard to accept his, noting in his application essay that most of the exceptional actors he admires had acquired “a brutally efficient technique” to enhance their talent by studying at places like Juilliard.

Though he won’t know whether he has been accepted until the end of this month, his audition last weekend went well, he says. He did monologues from Henry IV, Part I and Dancing at Lughnasa, adjusting his Shakespearean Hotspur to a more fiery temperature at the suggestion of Michael Kahn, head of Juilliard’s acting program – though not without arguing that Hotspur wouldn’t be speaking to the king that way.

Isaac, not surprisingly, loves a good debate.

Adler, GableStage’s artistic director and a man who is as liberal as Isaac once was conservative, savored the verbal jousting they did during rehearsals for Side Man.

“He knows exactly how to pull my chain,” Adler says with a laugh. “Intelligence is the cornerstone of all great actors, and he’s bright as hell.

“He has relentless ambition but with so much charm. He’s very hard to say no to. He has incredible raw talent and magnetism that is very rare in a young actor along with relentless energy, perseverance and ambition. I see his growth both onstage and off. He’s mature in both places.”

Part of his growth, of course, will necessarily involve dealing with the rejections that are part of any actor’s life. His career is still too new, his string of successes solid, so it’s anyone’s guess how failure will shape him. But director Michael John Garcés, who picked him for When It’s Cocktail Time in Cuba after Isaac flew to New York at his own expense to compete with a pool of seasoned Manhattan actors for the role, believes his character will see him through.

“Oscar is realistic, but he’s so willing to go the whole nine yards,” Garcés says. “He didn’t go out when he was in the show here. His focus earned the respect of the other actors, some of whom have been working in New York for 30 years.

“He hasn’t had a lot of blows yet, when the career knocks the wind out of you. But he has talent, determination and focus, and if he has perseverance – my intuition is that he does have it – he could achieve a lot.”

FAMILY TIES

His father and namesake, Baptist Hospital intensive-care physician Oscar Isaac Hernandez, couldn’t be more proud. (Isaac doesn’t use the family surname in order to avoid, in his words, being “put in that Hispanic actor box.”)

“I’m ecstatic that he’s probably going to be going to the most prestigious drama school in the United States,” he says. “School will help him focus his energies and give him discipline. He’s got the raw material and the drive.”

Isaac’s mother, Maria, divorced from his father since 1992, is a kidney-transplant recipient who acknowledges that she’ll miss her son if he moves to New York. But, she adds, she wants him “to live out his dreams. He amazes me every day. He calls me every day. I’m very proud of him.”

Even the other guys in The Blinking Underdogs are fans of Isaac’s acting, though it could take him away from South Florida just as the band appears to be, Isaac says, on the brink of signing a recording deal (it has already put out its own CD, The Last Word, with songs, lead vocals and even cover photography by Isaac.

“Oscar’s the leader of the band, a great musician who amazes me and motivates us,” says sax player Keith Cooper. “I’ve been to see every one of his plays. He’s a phenomenal actor.

“I completely buy into his role in every play. As close as I am to him, I forget it’s Oscar.”

His South Florida theater colleagues credit that to Isaac’s insatiable desire to learn and grow.

Gail Garrisan, who is directing him in Donnie and One of the Great Ones for Winter Shorts, observes, “It’s not often that you find a young actor who is willing to listen and who doesn’t think he knows everything. He loves the work.

“He really brought the young man in Side Man to life. When I saw it in New York, it seemed to be the father’s play. When I saw it here, I felt it was his [Isaac’s] play.”

Oye Rep’s John Rodaz, whom Isaac calls “the best director I’ve ever worked with,” gave the actor his first important job in Sleepwalkers at Area Stage. They met when Isaac came to see Area’s production of Oleanna and the actor, knowing Rodaz ran the theater, introduced himself.

“He has so much energy and such a sparkling personality,” Rodaz says. “He knows how to move in the world. He seems to take advantage of every situation in a good way; he’s not a cold, calculating person who’ll stab you in the back.

“[But] he wants it so badly. Everything he does, he’s the leader. When I was 21, I was taking naps.”

Rodaz coached Isaac on his Juilliard monologues and found the experience energizing.

“I got chills just watching him. That happens so rarely. I was so exhilarated when I came home that I just had to go out and run. You just know he’s got all the tools.”

Christine Dolen is The Herald’s theater critic.

###

[we-are-inevitable]

hmmmmm jack and crutchie best friend hcs?? au or canon, whatever you'd like <3

OH YES OH YES OKAY THIS IS GONNA BE LONG SORRY ok im going modern au bc i love it BUT

they've known each other for a long time! they used to live in neighboring apartments, and would play together every day after school- until jack's mom passed away and he was put into foster care because his dad wasn't a very good dad.

because they were kind of young when jack left (around 8 or 9 years old), they didn't have any contact info for each other, so they fell out of touch for a long time.

during the summer summer before freshman year, Jack is adopted by medda, who teaches drama/theatre stuff in the highschool that jack will now be attending. its actually kind of close to the area of Manhattan where he grew up, but he doesn't put two and two together

not until he shows up to his homeroom on the first day of school and sees charlie in the front row

"crutchie?!"

"JACK?!"

big bro hug !!

(side note: everyone is really confused and slightly worried about jack calling charlie "crutchie" until they explain the childhood nickname side of things)

from then on, they talk to each other every day! of course it's kind of awkward at first, since it's been so long since they've seen each other, but by the end of the week they're both talking like jack never even left

okay now onto some random ones that ive been thinking of that AREN'T backstory:

they sign up for EVERYTHING together. drama, art club, school newspaper, student council, multicultural club- you name it

of course this means that they're pretty involved in a LOT of clubs and extracurriculars together when they're seniors

Jack: senior class reporter, art club president, one of the head officers for the school paper, honorary lead of the drama's art/stage decoration department, multicultural club treasurer !!

Charlie: senior class president, president of the national honors society chapter, student council vice president, has acted in the majority of the school plays/musicals, and also participates in a few different paralympic sports !!

obviously because they're so in so many clubs they rarely have time to hang out outside of school but it doesn't even matter bc they're in all the same clubs/classes anyway

charlie always comes to jack's art shows and art club fundraisers/benefits

and jack is present at every single one of charlie's games during sports season

they call each other brothers and no one seems to bat an eye even though they literally look nothing alike. like NOTHING alike. jack is brown with almost-black hair and charlie is pale with freckles and blonde hair. but if anyone asks they say they're twins because why not

they've been in an ongoing prank war since freshman year. sometimes months go by without anything happening and Then They Strike. one of the most memorable pranks involved temporary hair dye and a blue-haired charlie.

charlie quite literally beat jack with his crutch for that one but oh well

they make compromises with each other at least once a day and sometimes they don't work but also sometimes it gets both of them prom dates

"okay listen. crutch." "yes sir." if you ask out smalls, i'll ask out davey. deal?" "deal."

spoiler: it works, so now charlie has his gf and jack has his bf and everything is okay in the world

after high school, they don't end up going to the same college- charlie gets into a university and jack opts for an art academy instead- but since they're both located in New York, they just. move in together in an apartment close to Charlie's school and live together until they're done with school and are stable enough to move in with their significant others

LAST ONE BUT THEYRE EACH OTHERS BEST MAN WHENEVER ONE OF THEM GETS MARRIED AND WHEN THEY HAVE KIDS, CHARLIE'S KIDS CALL JACK "uncle cisco" AND JACK'S KIDS CALL CHARLIE "tio"

[mostlysignssomeportents]

All the books I reviewed in 2020

I know it's a little late for Xmas shipping, but I'm FINALLY getting around to publishing a roundup of all the books I reviewed in 2019!

Part 1: FICTION FOR ADULTS

I. AGENCY by William Gibson: A sequel to The Peripheral for the Trump years, about seductive bitterness of imagined alternate timelines, filled with cyberpunk cool and action.

https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/books/story/2020-01-24/agency-william-gibson

II. RIOT BABY by Tochi Onyebuchi: An incandescent Afrofuturist novella that connects the Rodney King uprising with contemporary struggle, pitting supernatural powers against dire politics.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/04/23/riot-baby/#Tochi-Onyebuchi

III. OR WHAT YOU WILL by Jo Walton: A metafiction about the desperate attempt of a character to pull his writer into a fictional world to save the both from human mortality.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/07/little-bro-with-snowden/#metafiction

IV. A BEAUTIFULLY FOOLISH ENDEAVOR by Hank Green: Sequel to An Absolutely Remarkable Thing - a madcap and sometimes brutal tale of social media influencers, alien invaders, disinformation, and runaway capitalism.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/08/absolutely-remarkable-thing/#carls

V. FAILED STATE by Christopher Brown: A legal eco-thriller that imagines the end of capitalism without imagining the end of the world - cyberpunk meets ecotopianism, with anarchist jurisdictions, show-trials, and rewilding.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/12/failed-state/#chris-brown

VI. AFTERLAND by Lauren Beukes: Eerily well-timed road-trip novel set after a prostate-cancer plague wipes out nearly every man on Earth, except for the protagonist's teenaged son, who is now being hunted by the (all-female) US government.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/28/afterland/#XY

VII. BALLISTIC KISS by Richard Kadrey: Sandman Slim confronts the worst demons of all - his own trauma and self-doubt.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/25/anxietypunk/#bk

VIII. SQUEEZE ME by Carl Hiaasen: Hiaasen was writing comedic whodunnits about improbable Florida Man types decades before the memes, and his Mar-a-Lago gator plague novel is a hectic and hilarious tale for our times.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#disappearing-act

VIII. The Ministry for the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson: KSR says it's his last novel and I say it's the book he's been training to write all his life. If you like your climate fiction wrenching but still uplifting enough to move you to tears...

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/03/ministry-for-the-future/#ksr

IX. SET MY HEART TO FIVE by Simon Stephenson: An absurdist robot-romp in the mold of Kurt Vonnegut about a robot who catches the disease of emotions and tries to treat it by moving to Hollywood to write screenplays about robots.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/01/cant-pay-wont-pay/#robot-rights

Part 2: NONFICTION FOR ADULTS

I. A PUBLIC SERVICE by Tim Schwartz: An incredibly practical, detailed guide for would-be whistleblowers (and journalists who work with them) to staying safe while spilling the beans.

https://memex.craphound.com/2020/01/08/a-public-service-a-comprehensive-comprehensible-guide-to-leaking-documents-to-journalists-and-public-service-groups-without-getting-caught/

II. THE MONSTERS KNOW WHAT THEY'RE DOING by Keith Ammann: A sourcebook for RPG game-masters explaining how different kinds of monsters can use a variety of combat tactics that add depth, texture (and challenge) to your games.

https://memex.craphound.com/2020/01/10/the-monsters-know-what-theyre-doing-an-rpg-sourcebook-for-dms-who-want-to-imbue-monsters-with-deep-smart-tactics/

III. SNOWDEN'S BOX by Jessica Bruder and Dale Maharidge: The incredible, true tale of how trust among friends allowed Snowden's leaks to safely transit from his home in Hawai'i to the hands of Laura Poitras and the journalists who reported the story.

https://memex.craphound.com/2020/03/31/snowdens-box-the-incredible-illuminating-story-of-the-journey-of-snowdens-hard-drive/

III. ABOLISH SILICON VALLEY by Wendy Liu: A personal journey from a fully bought-in believer in Silicon Valley's meritocracy to a ferocious critic who demands tech to serve humanity, not a human race in service to the tech industry.

https://memex.craphound.com/2020/04/14/abolish-silicon-valley-memoir-of-a-driven-startup-founder-who-became-an-anti-capitalist-activist/

IV. THE CASE FOR A JOB GUARANTEE by Pavlina Tcherneva: A fierce little book setting out an economic program to rescue the nation and the planet from a system that insists we can't even hope for a better world.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/22/jobs-guarantee/#job-guarantee

VII. SUBPRIME ATTENTION CRISIS by Tim Hwang: What's worse than having our lies destroyed by surveillance to manipulate us with ads? Having our lives destroyed by surveillance in order to fuel a fraudulent market in ad-based manipulation.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#wannamakers-ghost

VIII. MONOPOLIES SUCK by Sally Hubbard: There are plenty of *great* books about monopolies and the resurgence in antitrust, but Hubbard's is the most practical, providing the reader with excellent advice for actually *doing something* about monopolism.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/27/peads-r-us/#sally-hubbard

IX. BREAK 'EM UP by Zephyr Teachout: The most lucid, readable, infuriating, energizing book on the rise of monopolies. Teachout never loses sight of the systemic nature of the problem, even as she uses individual stories to tell the tale.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/29/break-em-up/#break-em-up

X. BOUNDLESS REALM by Fox Nolte: There has never been a better book about the Haunted Mansion (indeed, this is one of the best books ever written about environmental design in general). Nolte goes *way* beyond trite wisdom about "storytelling."

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/09/boundless-realm/#fuxxfur

PART 3: GRAPHIC NOVELS

I. YEAR OF THE RABBIT by Tean Viasna: A graphic memoir of Viasna's harrowing boyhood during the rise of the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. It's a tale we've rarely seen through the eyes of a child, and brilliantly realized.

https://memex.craphound.com/2020/01/22/year-of-the-rabbit-a-graphic-novel-memoir-of-one-familys-life-under-the-khmer-rouge/

II. FEMALE FURIES by @misscecil​: Castellucci uses an obscure and anachronistic all-woman cast of DC Universe b-characters to tell an incredible, smart, pitiless story about #MeToo, comics, solidarity and betrayal.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/29/female-furies/#apokolips-now

III. LONELINESS OF THE LONG-DISTANCE CARTOONIST by Adrian Tomine: A memoir of intensely felt impostor syndrome, a forceful reminder that comparison is the thief of joy - and that the traits that keep an artist going at first go toxic over time.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/21/the-thief-of-joy/#tomine

IV. CONSTITUTION ILLUSTRATED by R Sikoryak: The Trump years were an unhappy crash-course in Constitutional law, but Sikoryak's genius adaptation of the Constitution in the style of dozens of cartoonists is a pure delight.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/27/ip/#r-sikoryak

PART 4: KIDS AND YA

I. SEND PICS by Lauren McLaughlin: A YA novel that's a thrilling revenge-play about "revenge porn," a cyber-heist novel that's also a sneaky and forceful book about teen girls' sexuality.

https://memex.craphound.com/2020/04/21/send-pics-ripping-brutal-amazing-novel-about-teens-sextortion-revenge-and-justice/

II. IMPOSSIBLE MUSIC by Sean Williams: A YA novel about a music-obsessed kid who loses his hearing is the frame for a book about ability, adaptation, music theory, family, Deafness and what dreams are really for.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/30/deafhood/#impossible-music

III. HARD WIRED by Len Vlahos: A 15 year old discovers the truth behind bizarre dysfunction of the world around him: he's an AI in a sim, and the guy he thinks of as his long-dead father is actually the research scientists who created him.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/31/ai-rights-now/#len-vlahos

IV. ADVENTURES OF A DWERGISH GIRL, by Daniel Pinkwater: Like every Pinkwater novel, it defies description, it is brilliant, and it is his best to date. Ghosts, Revolutionary War fleshbots, papaya juice, and supernatural beings from the Catskills!

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/25/dwergish-girl/#you-are-a-pickle

V. WITCH by Finbar Hawkins: A beautiful debut novel about a pair of 17th century sisters who avenge themselves against the witchfinders that murdered their mother. A superbly told historical.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/01/the-years-of-repair/#witch

FINALLY: I published *four* books in 2020!

I. POESY THE MONSTER SLAYER: My debut picture book, about a little girl who turns her toys into weapons and torments her parents by hunting monsters all night, with wonderful art by Matt Rockefeller:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781626723627

II. LITTLE BROTHER/HOMELAND: My multibestselling YA novels were reissued last summer in a gorgeous package with a (fantastic) new introduction by Snowden.

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250774583

III. ATTACK SURFACE: A standalone, adult sequel to Little Brother and Homeland. The New York Times called it "vocal and unflinching" and "ultimately optimistic"; the Washington Post called it a "riveting techno-thriller."

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250757531

IV. HOW TO DESTROY SURVEILLANCE CAPITALISM: A long pamphlet/short book that makes the case that Big Tech manipulates us and spies on us because they have monopolies - not because they've developed devastating, data-driven mind-control.

https://onezero.medium.com/how-to-destroy-surveillance-capitalism-8135e6744d59

[dearlazerbunny]

Let it Go (Ch. 2 of ?)

Pairings: platonic avengers team x reader, potential background loki x reader

Words: 3000

Genre/Ratings: -WARNINGS- there will be an (unsuccessful) suicide attempt by reader- chapter will be explicitly marked in advance. Drug (pills) and alcohol abuse, lots of negativity and self loathing. There will be an arc, but said arc is going to start in the eleventh circle of hell and inch up from there.

Summary: *not far enough into this one to give an accurate summary, so this’ll have to be updated eventually. enjoy for now!*

He had just gotten used to the noise.

When he first woke up, it felt like he was suffocating him- always there, always cars honking and lights flashing and music playing and people going about their lives- the city that never sleeps. Someone told him that, he forgets who. He figured out what they meant the second he stepped outside for longer than a minute.

 Now there’s just the wind stirring up dust, and occasionally toppling over a loose pile of debris. City workers push brooms along the street, trying to clear a path. Machines groan and creak as they haul away pieces of the city- days ago, that window was hundreds of feet in the sky- like its nothing. Another day. Just a little quieter than usual.

 t’s hard to believe, even though he has the scars on his shield and healing bruises on his ribs to prove the aliens did, in fact, try to invade New York and take over the planet. Led by a god. And then he’d teamed up with another god- he still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d never been particularly religious, but Bucky was- the insufferable bastard Stark, two assassins and a green giant and became an Avenger of planet Earth.

 This wasn’t what he signed up for in 1941. Nazis or aliens, punching them in the face still uses the same muscles. Metal torsos don’t have quite as much give against the knuckles though.  

 He wanders the streets with no real purpose in mind, other than helping out with lifting here and there where needed. The war roars to life in the back of his mind, overlayed with the eerily calm day. His eyes mark the battle: here, where he launched Nat into the air, her dry words echoing in his ears; here, where Thor had very efficiently covered his back. Here, where for the second time in his life he watched a man who didn’t deserve to fall hurdle towards the ground.

 And here- something happened here. His feet remember even if his mind doesn’t- they’ve stopped in the middle of the road. He squints, resisting the urge to cough on a cloud of dust that gets kicked up in his face. Something… his shield, doing far greater damage than his fist ever could, and then someone… screamed?

Her. A girl, in the middle of the road, eyes sunken and skin so taught and paperwhite he’d wondered if the ghosts of this battle were already coming to haunt him before it was even done. She’s screamed at him to duck, and her voice was so raw it triggered something in the back of his brain from basic training and caused him to hit the ground before he fully knew what he was doing. Something had flown over his head- he could hear it cutting through the air- a thunk, a screech that would likely be added to his rotating litany of nightmares- then nothing, save the battle raging behind him. A Chitauri he assumed he’d missed lay twitching on the ground just inches from his neck, and sticking from its chest- ice. Solid ice. So cold that his gloved hand still recoiled when he reached out to touch it.

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

The girl’s face had been a roulette of emotions- a hint of pride, a darkly sarcastic flicker of her lips, and then her eyes widened and- fear. He watched her watch him, clenching and unclenching her fists. By the time he had opened his mouth to call out to her, she was gone, leaving only a trail of what looked to be frost on the ground before she disappeared around a corner- and something that slipped out of her pocket, jostled from her sweatshirt as she made her getaway.

He didn’t have time to think about her after that. A second later, his comm had crackled to life in his ear, and Stark started barking instructions, and Captain America had straightened his spine and grabbed his shield, and got back to where he was needed.

Steve Rogers, though, still has her tucked in the back of his mind.

The frost is still on the ground. Not as white as it had been, but a few grains of ice still cling to the cracks in the pavement. Strange. Magic? After everything he’s seen the past few days he wouldn’t be surprised. He follows the trail, irrationally hoping she’ll still be tucked behind an overturned car or crumbling building corner.

She isn’t. But there is a neon orange bottle tucked amongst the wreckage, and as he reaches for it he has a flash of memory of it falling from your pocket as you run. The contents rattle. A prescription bottle- like the ones medical gives him never get touched and sit collecting dust in a corner of his closet. Neat rows of print declare it Klonopin, 0.5 mg. Take once a day at bedtime, take an additional half as needed. Ingest with food. In the upper left corner is a name and address and phone number- Christian Heysworth.

The girl in the sweatshirt doesn’t strike him as a Christian. He should probably drop the bottle- it’d never be noticed among the rest of the chaos- and walk away. Worry about his own life and his own mess.

He tucks the bottle into his pocket. It might be a place to start.

…

The knock on her door is crisp and succinct, with no room for error. A soldier’s knock. She knows who it is before she turns the lock, because Clint doesn’t bother knocking anymore. When the door opens, she tries not to look as tired as she feels. “Captain.” It’s an easy acknowledgment, and it gives him time to categorize the healing gash on her cheekbone, covered with a butterfly bandage; the bruise blossoming on her collarbone that peeks just far enough above the neckline of her shirt to be seen. She doesn’t need the attention, but he needs a reminder that not everything is different since the forties. Same soldiers, different decade. Despite herself, the corner of her lip flicks up in the tiniest hint of appreciation. It has been a while since someone’s cared. “What can I do for you?”

“I need a favor.”

Interesting. “With?”

“Something stupid, most likely,” His voice is just sheepish enough to believe him. From his pocket, he pulls an orange bottle identical to the ones SHIELD’s psych department keeps prescribing her and the ones she keeps using for target practice.

Oh. Something deep in her chest softens and clenches all at once. She knows these questions all too well. “Cap. If you need help with- well. I can try my best, but I doubt I’m the best person to-”

Steve’s eyes widen. “Oh, no, these- they aren’t mine.” He hands the medicine over and she appraises it with a practiced eye. Klonopin, schedule IV drug in the United States, dose as low as one milligram to sedate an average adult male within forty-five minutes, effects greatly compounded by alcohol- “I, um. I’d like to track down the owner.”

Her brain is humming. “Any particular reason?”

“It’s a long story.”

Wordlessly, she steps aside, letting him in. “I didn’t have much to do tonight.”

Eventually, there are cups of tea in front of both of them, though she’s only taken a sip and Steve hasn’t touched his at all. He tells her about the girl who leaves frost on the ground in the middle of Manhattan and saves him with a spear made of ice. From the way he speaks, its almost like he isn’t quite sure if she was real or not- just a ghost or a very strange guardian angel. It’s bizarre, but not even on her top ten list of bizarre things in this week alone.

“So. I want to… thank her, I suppose?” He laughs without mirth. “I’m not really sure.”

“Think she’s enhanced?”

“Hopefully not by force.”

It doesn’t even bother her, anymore, the implication. Her breathing becomes more controlled on instinct. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Don’t think about it. “Let’s hope. Is she on anyone’s radar? SHIELD?”

“I wouldn’t even know how to check. And if I did, I don’t have anything to go on.”

Natasha glances down at the bottle of pills. But there is Christian Heysworth. She reaches under the couch cushion she sits on to produce a laptop from the gap. It’s wafer-thin and high tech enough that pulling up something as inane as Facebook looks categorically ridiculous. There’s a few Christian Heysworths, but they’re quickly narrowed down by what little information she has. “Christian Heysworth: junior at NYU, frat boy, wouldn’t be surprised if he’s got a couple of DUIs under his belt paid off by someone in his family-” she glances up, sharp cheekbones illuminated in blue light. “What?”

“I just… what are the odds he’d be in SHIELD’s databases…?”

“Hardly, Cap. Behold the wonders of the internet. So, are we wringing his neck, or were you thinking something more subtle?”

She says it to get a rise out of him and is rewarded by an aghast expression. “I just need to ask him some questions, Natasha, not-” he stops when her quiet smirk lifts a little of the weight from her eyes and laughs with her. “Fine. But I’m doing the talking.”

...

Natasha Romanov has infiltrated thirty-seven countries in as many or more disguises and has never been caught. She is failing miserably at attempting to camouflage Captain America into a generic civilian. There aren’t enough sunglasses and baseball caps in the world to make him a more manageable height and physique, and his t-shirt- at least two sizes too small for him- attracts the eyes of every wannabe pro sports player and every girl and guy hanging off of their arm. Honestly, they expect her to work in these kinds of conditions? Thankfully pulling her top a little lower and batting her eyelashes nets her enough information to direct her to her “absolutely earth-shattering one-night stand.” They climb stairs in a dorm hall that could be nicer than some of the floors in Stark Tower. She has the urge to crack the tile with something sharp.

Heysworth opens his door in boxers and smoke still on his breath. Heavy-lidded eyes barely focus on her face. “Uh, hey. Can I help you?”

Steve comes up behind her. “Christian Heysworth? I’d like to have a word with you, son.”

“I didn’t do nothin’.”

“I didn’t say you did.” Steve’s blue eyes are cool when he takes off his aviators; primly folds them and hangs them on the collar of his shirt. “Recognize this?” He holds out the prescription.

“Uh, I didn’t really-” Heysworth stops. Belches. Squints up at Steve. “I- wait. Wait, holy shit, you’re fucking Captain America! Holy shit man, I can’t even-”

As he rambles, Steve looks over to Natasha, who shrugs. “You must have one of those faces.”

Captain America holds up a hand to the kid’s face. “Just answer the question, son.”

“I, yeah, okay, um-” he turns the bottle over in his hands. “Shit, is this what that bitch stole from me?”

“Language. Who stole from you?”

“I met up with some chick downtown who wanted to buy them, but then those freaking aliens started coming and I- you didn’t hear it from me though, ‘kay?”

Steve sighs. “Do you know her name?”

“Nah, chat rooms and shi- stuff. Sorry. I have her screen name?”

He agrees to trade for a selfie with the Captain, which Natasha promptly deletes as soon as he hands over his phone, transferring data to her own. “She’s communicating from this address,” she murmurs, showing Steve the area it triangulated before wiping that information too. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Uh-huh. Hey, are you-”

Steve neatly closes the door in his face. “I don’t think he looked at your face once.

Oh, Steve. What a pure soul. “To be fair, I don’t think anyone has been looking at yours either.”

Their trail leads them to the backstreets, to an alley so covered in grime it looks like the whole place should be condemned. And many of the buildings are- covered in caution tape, stairwells crumbling, and fire escapes rusted over. Wind whistles through shattered windows. Foundations are rotting. And yet there are a few minuscule signs of life- a door that’s scraped the ground so many times there’s wear on the concrete, a few piles of garbage here and there. “She’s off the grid.”

“Can’t be right. She was a kid, couldn’t have been more than twenty-”

“You do what you have to.” She gives him a look. “You know that.”

His face goes stony. “Let’s just find her.”

Natasha sets off in one direction, Steve in the other. They both know how this works. It’s a practiced dance. Search the bottom floors first, find faults in the buildings and stairwells so you can avoid them the next floor up. She picks a lock that has managed to stay fast despite rusting over, he leverages himself through a windowsill strong enough to hold his weight. Eerily silent save for scraps of trash and the skittering of mice. If you listen closely, you can almost hear the construction in midtown, slowly shoveling away.

Steve’s mark is almost laughably easy to find. There’s a door tucked in a second-level corner whose seams are iced over three inches thick.

Her boots crunch in frost spilling out from under a crack in the door. She punctures the air with a bird call, and seconds later Steve rounds the corner. He reaches down to run a finger through the snow. “it looks the same.”

“Do you want to do the honors then?” He tests the knob once, twice- the metal doesn’t even rattle, it’s too frozen solid. He opts to kick it in with a well-placed boot, wincing at the sound of ice cracking and then shattering into shards.

The apartment is empty. There’s a table along the far wall stacked with a few cardboard boxes to use as makeshift shelves. Packets of potato chips are shoved in one alcove, a few granola bars in the other. Empty soda bottles litter the floor. The table itself is mostly covered with alcohol: a whole skyline of glass bottles glinting in the light from the newly busted door. Some are empty, some are half full, a few have broken necks. An inspection of the crooked drawers attached underneath reveals nothing but a junkyard of pills, none of which are prescribed to the same person more than twice.

Natasha opens a few of the safety caps, rattling them like a scientist with an interest. “There’s enough in here to put even you to sleep.”

“Is she here? She would’ve heard the door.”

“Maybe.” A door leads off to a molding bathroom and a small hall closet. The next, a makeshift bedroom. A grimy mattress sits in the corner, covered in blankets so dirty there’s no telling what the print of them might’ve once been. There’s also a girl. She’s curled up in the center, drowning in layers of hoodies and sweatshirts. The second Natasha steps in the room she can see her breath. Another step in and the air feels like home. Whatever water was in the air has crystallized and fallen to the ground in a tiny hailstorm, surrounding her like a halo.

She also doesn’t move.

The spy moves with ruthless efficiency, ignoring the cold as she kneels by the mattress. Too many layers. Can’t even see if she’s breathing. She tugs her sleeve up over her fingertips before beginning to shove aside tangled hoods and t-shirts, digging for the collarbone.

“Natasha?”

“Here. She’s almost-” she cuts off with a hiss of pain, wrenching her fingers back like she was bit.

“What-?” the girl is still sleeping. Steve only spares her a glance before taking Natasha’s hand in his, checking for damage. There’s no blood, no broken skin. But the tips of her fingers are white and hard, paler than normal and cold to the touch. He recoils on instinct. “Frostbite.”

Natasha is muttering low in Russian, tapping her fingers together to move the blood, and Steve is momentarily taken back to a plane going down in the middle of an endless ocean surrounded by walls of blue. No going back, only going under, and nothing waiting for him but frost and ice and cold-

“Steve!” He blinks. Natasha’s face swims back into focus. “Get out. Contact the tower. We can’t move her like this and she needed medical yesterday.”

“I’m fi-”

“No, you’re not. I can handle this. Russian, remember?” She tries to give him a small smile. He doesn’t return it. “Get out and coordinate removal. That’s an order.”

Orders, some primeval part of Steve’s brain can understand. He turns and hopes he doesn’t run from the apartment, not even bothering to navigate the stairs- just jumps over the balcony to land in the courtyard below, chest heaving. Unconsciously, he glances in a nearby piece of glass, ensuring his breath isn’t fog. He isn’t cold. He isn’t. He’s fine.

He isn’t thinking when he puts a beacon out for JARVIS to trace. He isn’t flexing his fingers to make sure they can move. He isn’t drowning. He isn’t on ice. He isn’t, he isn’t, he isn’t-

In the apartment, Natasha swears and wrings her hand as pins and needles race down her arm. She’s handled plenty of frostbite, but it never gets easier. The girl is still unconscious, heartbeat dangerously slow. Whatever she put in her system, she meant to knock herself out for a long time. Or worse.

And Steve is on the verge of a panic attack and if your heart stops she can’t perform CPR, so she sits on the edge of your mattress blowing on her fingers as you keep causing the air around you to quietly freeze and fall, a tiny secret twinkle of ice in the middle of New York.

[dweemeister]

The Daydreamer (1966)

By the 1960s, Christmas television specials were in vogue in the United States. Yet this recent phenomenon had yet to yield a true cultural touchstone. On December 6, 1964, the first Christmas special mainstay aired on NBC. Produced by a fledgling animation studio, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer put Rankin/Bass, named after co-founders Arthur Rankin, Jr. and Jules Bass, into the public consciousness. Rankin/Bass’ brand of stop-motion animation (“Animagic”) was mostly outsourced to Japanese studio MOM Productions in Tokyo, under the direction of Tadahito Mochinaga. With the windfall of Rudolph, Rankin/Bass and MOM Productions delved into the realm of feature theatrical films. This review concerns their second feature film, The Daydreamer – a stop motion animation/live-action hybrid based on Hans Christian Andersen’s stories. The Daydreamer has starpower in its cast that no Rankin/Bass production had yet matched. But as one might expect from a Rankin/Bass film, there are narrative flaws abound. The Daydreamer, episodic in nature and alternating between live-action and animation scenes, suffers due to the inconsistent quality of the handful of Hans Christian Andersen adaptations it has and the kitschy live-action acting.

The young Hans Christian Andersen (“Chris”; Paul O’Keefe) is the son of a cobbler (Jack Gilford). Papa Andersen often has to face the verbal tirades of frequent customer Mrs. Klopplebobbler (Margaret Hamilton; it is difficult not to think of Hamilton’s portrayal of the Wicked Witch here). His struggling business often means he cannot pay the gangling Pie Man (Ray Bolger; yet another Wizard of Oz star). To take him away from these troubles, Chris will let his imagine run wild while napping. If he can only just find the mythical Garden of Paradise, all these troubles might vanish. One evening, the Sandman (voiced by Cyril Ritchard) promises him to guide him there. Along the way, Chris is subject to dreams that may seem familiar to the viewer. These dreams shift away from live-action into the signature Rankin/Bass animation – adapting “The Little Mermaid”, “The Emperor’s New Clothes”*, “Thumbelina”, and “The Garden of Paradise”. Elements of “The Ugly Duckling” and “Little Claus and Big Claus” also appear.

Among the many voice actors during these animation sequences are Hayley Mills (The Little Mermaid); Burl Ives (Neptune – I have never heard Ives’ voice so devoid of jaunt before); Tallulah Bankhead (the sea witch); Terry-Thomas (the first tailor); Victor Borge (the second tailor); Ed Wynn (the Emperor); Patty Duke (Thumbelina); and Boris Karloff (the Rat).

The film’s adaptations of Andersen’s tales differ in that Andersen himself becomes a character in each of the stories. The Daydreamer approaches the stories as if the ideas are only just forming in the young Chris’ head, to be written and published when he is an adult. Within these dreams-someday-to-be-stories, Chris is largely a passive character. He takes instruction from the central figures of his future tales, never really asserting himself or asking basic questions about the misadventures he goes through. Chris acts as if lost in his own imagination – which fits the conceit of the film. So when he awakens into the real world, the film’s pacing slams the brakes. In the real world, everyone except Chris is a caricature, somehow less realistic than the individuals appearing in the daydreams. The transitions between animation and live-action will take the viewer out of the film because of the unceasing manic acting in the latter, as opposed to the charming puppetry of the former. As such, The Daydreamer’s weaknesses lie almost entirely with the live-action scenes – too consciously playing to the audience and over-the-top in their absurdity.

In an era of American animation defined by Disney on the screen and Hanna-Barbera on television, Rankin/Bass carves out its own niche in how it tells its stories. The meta humor and fourth wall breaking of Hanna-Barbera’s works (a legacy of the duo’s work at MGM) makes no appearances here. Disney’s clean-cut fairytale endings also do not apply. The Daydreamer’s adaptation of “The Little Mermaid” does not have the gruesome premise as Andersen’s original fairytale, but it retains the ending’s heartbreak. There appears to be no alterations to “The Emperor’s New Clothes” – which includes Chris, but he just feels superfluous to the plot and to the tale’s keen comedy. Each of the film’s segments bring Chris closer to the final animated sequence, “The Garden of Paradise”. The adaptation of that tale sanitizes its deathly overtures for a devil-like creature, but keeps the ambiguous, open-ended conclusion. By maintaining the original conclusion, “The Garden of Paradise” is a curious coda for The Daydreamer – a film that ends as abruptly as its several transitions, like a daydream.

The Daydreamer’s live-action sets benefit, however, due to the fact many of its scenes were shot at the 1964 New York World’s Fair. The World’s Fair pavilions used in this film mimic a feel of small-town, nineteenth century Europe more realistically than a Hollywood soundstage might. The production design for the animated dream sequences, too, are mesmerizing. Perhaps this is best exemplified in “The Little Mermaid”. There, the special effects work make it appear as if the whole sequence was shot underwater, rather than a room that contained blue lights streaming into Neptune’s palace. Where are the strings and wires suspending the puppets in mid-air while they “swim”? To the animators’ credit, there are none to be found. Neptune’s palace is one of the grander sets constructed for a Rankin/Bass production; its imposing walls and generous empty spaces reflect a sense of regal grandeur. That royal otherworldliness does not extend to “The Emperor’s New Clothes”, but many of the same production design decisions carry over. Rankin/Bass and MOM Productions are obviously working with more money and manpower for these animated scenes than in the likes of Rudolph or their many holiday television specials. The sense of scale and grandiosity seen here in The Daydreamer and Mad Monster Party? (1967) would rarely, if ever, be replicated for television. And it is also obvious that the filmmakers put the money into the animation and for paying headline-worthy actors, rather than for any writers able to string the animated and live-action halves together.

Seven songs comprise The Daydreamer’s musical soundtrack. Composed by Maury Laws and Jules Bass, most of the songs are forgettable once your viewing is done (including Robert Goulet singing the title song over the opening credits, despite the fact I admire Goulet’s voice). But there are notable exceptions. Sung by Hayley Mills at the end of “The Little Mermaid”, “Wishes and Teardrops” brings the segment to a worthy close. Her loved ignored, the Little Mermaid sings this lament – backed with percussion straight from a ‘60s love ballad and timeless swelling strings – for herself:

Wishes and teardrops Won’t make him love me. He’s gone and he’ll never return. Does he know how teardrops can burn, When they fall for a wish That can never come true?

In the film’s final third, “Luck to Sell” injects a jolt of energy sorely missing from many of the other live-action scenes. The song itself is simple and the singing just avoids being flat, but when paired with the energetic choreography from Paul O’Keefe and company, it elevates itself from the rest of the soundtrack (save “Wishes and Teardrops”).

Not often will a viewer encounter a film with two sets of opening credits. I’m not writing about films that have an overture that transition to opening credits (an entirely different approach that modern filmmakers should utilize more), but two sets of opening credits that list the names of the actors involved. For the first set of credits, caricaturist Al Hirschfeld (uncredited) was hired to draw caricatures of the various actors and actresses appearing in, or lending their voices to, The Daydreamer. The Daydreamer is the second of three films that Hirschfeld was involved in. The first, appearing as himself uncredited, was in Main Street to Broadway (1953); his third and final film was as an artistic consultant on the “Rhapsody in Blue” segment (which was influenced by his caricatures) in Fantasia 2000.

Rankin/Bass’ ventures into feature film animation peaked several months later with Mad Monster Party? After that and the unfortunate production of The Wacky World of Mother Goose (1967; a traditionally animated eyesore), Rankin/Bass almost completely dedicated itself to its animated television specials. The Daydreamer, distributed by the now-defunct Embassy Pictures and currently owned by Sony Pictures Television (the ownership of the rights to Rankin/Bass’ features are exasperatingly scattered), has not been widely seen when compared to Mad Monster Party?, let alone Rankin/Bass’ television specials. If one can find a serviceable print of The Daydreamer, the viewing experience will be a valuable glimpse into the studio’s collaboration with MOM Productions. A Rankin/Bass fan that has only known the studio through its television specials will see their work operating with higher production values; Rankin/Bass novices can experience a dimension of animated filmmaking too often considered an afterthought.

My rating: 6/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

* “The Emperor’s New Clothes” was adapted twice by Rankin/Bass. The second adaptation is the heart of the television special The Enchanted World of Danny Kaye (1972), starring Danny Kaye. That adaptation of “The Emperor’s New Clothes” is distinct from the one that appears in The Daydreamer. The Danny Kaye special’s adaptation has a more developed storyline, completely different voice cast, and completely different soundtrack.

[chanelhamitlon]

but its always been you|| Thomas Jefferson x Reader

word count: 1550

warnings: cusing, lack of proofreading, mentions of death

A/N: my first Thomas fic🙈 (Modern AU like most of them) Idk how collage works pls 😭

Inspiration: Youuu - COIN (its really good omg)

QUICK NOTE: the cuts are usually to switch between y/n and thomas

tell me if you wanna be in my permanent tag list :))

Blessed are the forgetful: for they get the better even of their blunders.

"Jefferson,Thomas". He walked up the stage to receive his much deserved diploma. Four years of extensive studying just for this moment. He looked at the crowd and as if the world suddenly stopped. He focused on this one person. She had a camera up to her face, her hair glistening in the daylight. He looked like her as if he had seen a ghost. He snapped out of it as she lowered her camera. His girlfriend, of course. She smiled at him as the announcer calls on the next graduate. He walked down and towards her. Now that he thinks about it, he'd gaze out to her like this multiple times now, but he feels this is not because of her herself. He saw someone else in her. A high school sweetheart perhaps. He might've seen the gold flakes in her e/c colored eyes as he did with Y/n. He was sure he had long forgotten about her. She was special, sure but as high school sweethearts go, they stay in high school. He was convinced the countless exes he'd have were all to drown out her calling out for him once more. Just one more time at least. He'd like to think that moving to the other side of the world also helped with the cause. That was his number one priority; to forget about the one year they spent together.

You always thought that it wasn't anyone's fault that you and Thomas broke up. It was just not in anyones best interest to keep it going after high school and if the feelings last, he'd always say that he will find you. You lost faith that he'd come back of course. Whatever goes on in high school, stays in high school. You would go on several dates with people in college but you would always find yourself comparing them to Thomas. You focused on your studies, everyone telling you that you were smart; 'If only they knew how much I know about the things that really matter'.

You look at the clock '12:34 am'. Graduation was tomorrow or later. You were trying to fall asleep, and quickly at that, but you can't refrain from overthinking. Every scenario running through your head in a fast pace. Every outcome possible, you could have saved that relationship. Were you thinking of going back to New York to find him? It was nice as it is in California. You had your essentials, a good connection to your family online, but it was never really enough. You needed him.

The day came through fast paced. You would think that one of the most important milestones in live would be savored by time, running slowly. It was the opposite, time was never forgiving of you, years came by in a glimpse. You still felt like a kid, just not now. Graduation had such a surreal feeling to it, no one was never obliged to finish school of course, but you would think that something this sentimental would finally saturate the world with colors.

At the bus ride to downtown San Fransisco, your mind drifted off with ease. The music flowing to your ears made you feel like you were in a music video, those artsy kinds who would always try to incorporate daily life then proceed with a shot of a glamorous mansion. A song comes on, one of your favorites actually, Youuu by COIN.

' She moves just like you

She tastes like you

But its always been youuu...'

They say that music with certain themes will always trigger memories, flowing back to your brain. Even the ones you could have sworn you have forgotten. Thomas springs in to mind. He was a player in high school, of course he would have found someone new by now. That year was still pretty vivid to you though. All the sneaking around, all your firsts, the mini get togethers turned dates. You remember everything.

"Hey do you want to go out on Saturday?"Thomas' voice echoes through the walls of the almost room. He was staying with his girlfriend for the meantime since her parents were to insist on them 'not spending money on property' yet. Although Thomas was to never have a problem with money, his family was filthy rich at that. He was still deciding whether to stay here, with his girlfriend, in the suburbs, content with a stable income job; or to his family in New York City, a corporate job, and maybe even to you.

"What's the occasion?" Her voice sweetly said. Running her hands through his curls. "I wanna see you dance again." He said with a light chuckle. She laughed, "Come on... I don't dance THAT bad". He enjoyed moments like this. He truly did. The light touching and cuddling, just enjoying each others presence. He knew that she was human and he was truly sorry. He was sorry that she was being played like a pawn in the game of life. He was sorry that this was temporary. He was sorry that he was looking for someone. And he is sorry that that sorry that that someone wasn't her. They both noticed that the vinyl record had stopped playing. She stood up and changed the track record. Thomas sat up and looked at her. Her back was faced towards him. 'Even her silhouette reminds him of you' . The decision is clear then.

You started working a minimum wage job to pay the bills. You live in an apartment, sharing a space with your roommate, Reese. She was kind enough as it is, you both treated each other like family. She got you through when you were looking for a job. Now paying her back, you got her a little cake to celebrate her birthday. Going home from the cake shop, you stopped your tracks to see a rather tall man in the street, he was talking to someone on his phone. 'It couldn't possibly be him'. You wanted to think rationally at that moment, but you were overtaken by your emotions. You lightly tapped his shoulder. He turned around to reveal a completely different person. You quickly apologized to the person. You weren't lying to yourself at this point, you were pretty devastated that it wasn't him.

Unlocking your apartment door, you heard mild sobs in the far left to you. That was your roommate's room. You closed the door and headed straight to her door. Knocking three times, you opened the door to a disheveled Reese, frantically grabbing tissues.

"What happened?" You were still going to approach her, mildly forcing her into toxic positivity. You were ready to listen to her. "I'm moving out." In your role as her roommate, this was the only thing that should concern you, but you were close and so you thought that something had happened at home. "My dad died. I'll move home and live there from now on." You understand completely that that was what she needed to do. You offer to help her on countless things of course. That night was one of the gloomiest in the apartment. You slowly watched her pack away most of her stuff, sulking away most days, above all that, conversation halted and was now a thing of the past.

"Have you made your decision yet?" Trying to make conversation at dinner, Thomas' girlfriend asked him to whether they would actually last or not. Long distance never really works for anyone, might as well rip the band-aid off now. Thomas looked like he was burried in a million thoughts, he looked at her apathetically, without an answer. They ate away the evening, they were the opposite of this lively restaurant. She looked at him, wanting to ask him more; what's are you thinking is at risk? what's weighing your shoulders down? is there 'a someone'?

Just as Thomas was to suggest leaving the restaurant and just saying sorry for the melancholy he brought to the evening, she stood up and suggested a dance. 'That's what they came for anyway.' He gladly accepted and took the lead, whisking her away to the dance floor. There were about 3 other couples around them, lost in their own world. He wants to think rationally, he doesn't want to loose his mind and let his emotions seep through his walls. They were slow dancing now. 'She really feels like y/n'.

"Who's y/n and why do I feel like her?"

Thomas froze. He accidentally said it out loud. There's no stoping it now, just tell her the truth; rip the band aid off.

"She's a girl I used to date in high sc-"

"Every relationship in high school stays in high school Thomas. grow up"

Thomas didn't know what to say.He didn't know why that sentiment ticked him off that way. He didn't know why his body was suddenly in flames. He didn't know what to say so all he did was run; run far away. She didn't understand. If you would've explained where you came from she would. No, she wouldn't.

Just before they reach the car she caught up to him. He turned around looking so distraught.

"Ive made up my mind."

part 2 👀?

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

The Intern | Part Two

Summary: You move to New York to focus on your art but end up working as an intern at Stark Enterprises

Chapter Summary: you get an surprise visit on your day off

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 1600 and something (kinda short but i’m already half way through writing part three)

A/N: for the purposes of this story Stark Enterprise is set out like an office building in New York and the story does not follow the same timeline as the movies. Reader does not know Peter is SpiderMan. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Masterlist   Part One

- - - - -

It had been a week since your meeting with Tony and since then the two of you had become quite good friends. Tony would make sure he came to the desk everyday or found you at lunch with Peter to catch up with you both.  

Today was your first day off in a while and it was much needed. You’d spent the day in your loungewear, doing some painting and listening to old 80’s rock music. In the evening you decided to order pizza, and do some baking while you wait for it to be delivered. You were just getting the ingredients ready when someone knocked at the door. ‘Pizza is early’ you thought as you put down the flour and headed to answer the door. 

“Wow that was quick- oh” you said opening the door surprised to see Tony on the other side. 

“Sorry were you expecting someone?” He asked.

“No no, just thought you were the pizza guy” you laugh awkwardly. 

“No pizza here I’m afraid. Just me. Wanted to check in, see if you’re okay? Didn’t see you in work today”

“It’s was my day off. I’m back in tomorrow”

“Ah right. Good. Well, that’s great then” he turns and goes to leave. 

“Would you like to come in for a drink, and maybe some pizza? Seeing as you came all this way.” You ask, surprising yourself with your sudden confidence. 

“I don't want to intrude..”

“you wouldn’t be. Ive been on my own all day, it would actually be nice to have some company.”

“Thanks” he smiles and walks past you. You shut the door, silently cursing yourself as you realise that your boss, THE Tony Stark, has now seen you in your paint stained loungewear. You follow him into the open plan kitchen/living room of your apartment and wish you’d cleaned up first. Your paints, brushes and sketchbook still all over the coffee table from earlier and the kitchen messy with baking stuff. 

“Sorry about the mess” you apologise, fiddling with the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into this morning, attempting to tidy it up a bit. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not that bad”

You raise your eyebrow at him.

“no really, I’ve seen rooms in much worse states than this after some of the parties I used to have back in the day”

You both laugh and Tony walks over to look at one of the paintings hanging on your wall “this is nice” he says pointing at it and you walk over to stand next to him. The painting is of a beach with the sun setting over the ocean, the orange glow reflecting off the waves and ripples in the water. 

“its the beach I used to visit every summer when I was a kid. Some of my favourite memories happened there” you stare at the painting daydreaming about the past. Picnics with your parents, playing fetch with your childhood dog, swimming on really hot days. Tony watches you out the corner of his eye, smiling when he notices the content smile that has appeared on your face. When you suddenly take a breath and snap back into the present he turns his attention back to the painting. 

“this is actually one of the first paintings I ever did-“

“you painted this?” Tony interrupts, turning to look at you and you give him a shy nod. “wow, you have a real talent. When you said before that ‘painting didn’t pay the bills’, I presumed that just meant you weren’t very good”

You burst out laughing his blunt honestly which takes Tony by surprise. 

“no, no what I meant was, the art world is a hard one to get into as an unknown artist. I couldn’t risk waiting around for that big break.”

Tony nods, looking at you thoughtfully.

“can I see some more of your work?” He asks.

“yeah sure, I’ve got some stuff in a folder in my room” you say as you run off toward your bedroom. When you come back out carrying the folder of paintings you notice Tony sitting on the sofa looking through the sketchbook you’d left on your coffee table. 

“these are really good y/n, really I mean that.” He says, turning the pages and you take a seat next to him “you’ll have to paint something for me to hang in my office, that place needs brightening up a bit-“ he stops when he reaches a pencil sketch of Steve Rogers and you feel your whole body cringe. “this guy? really, you drew this guy?”

“what, I, uh..” You stutter “..he’s got a good jaw line. It’s very satisfying to draw” you shrink down into the sofa wishing it would swallow you whole, then theres a knock at the door.

“ah that will be the real pizza guy” you say jumping up to walk to the door but Tony stands in your way.

“no let me get it. You get us some drinks. I’ve been here a full five minutes and you’ve still not got me one” he winks at you and you roll your eyes playfully.

As you get glasses out the cupboard and put them on the counter you notice Tony is acting suspiciously. He walks slowly and carefully toward the door, and takes a long look through the peephole before finally opening the door. You presume he’s just always on high alert because of who he is. Being a high profile business man and one of the best known superheroes must mean he’s used to having dangerous people lurking around every corner. 

After pouring two drinks you move over to the sofa and place the glasses down on the coffee table and hiding your sketchbook under the sofa. Tony appears with the pizza and you quickly move your paints off the table to make space for him to put the box down. 

“thanks for grabbing the pizza, you’ve saved me the embarrassment of anyone else seeing the state of me right now” you say gesturing to your clothes, as he takes a seat next to you and you hand him his drink.

He looks you up and down, shrugs and says “I’ve seen worse” and winks at you. He holds his glass up for you to toast and you hold your glass up too.

“to you, and your weird fascination with Captain America’s chin” he teases you and you shake your head at him.

“I am not toasting to that” you laugh

- - - - -    

An hour later you’d both got through the whole pizza and almost a whole bottle of wine, talking and laughing the whole time as Tony told you about some of the things he used to get up to pre Iron Man. You get up to carry the empty pizza box over to the bin in your kitchen and refill both your glasses. 

“hey what’s for dessert” Tony shouts over to you.

“well I was just about to start making brownies before you arrived”

“I was only kidding about dessert but actually I would kinda love some brownies right now” Tony says, getting up and walking over to join you in the kitchen.

“well I guess we could bake some?” you say half joking but Tony grabs your apron off the hook on the wall and ties it around his waist which makes you laugh.

“what are you laughing at, I'm ready to learn”

“wait, you’ve never made brownies before? Not even as a kid?” You ask in disbelief and Tony shakes his head.

“my family weren’t really into that sort of thing” he shrugged. 

“well then Mr Stark, I am about to change your life” you say, handing him a wooden spoon and he smiles at you. 

Tony mixed together the melted chocolate and butter with the eggs and sugar while you measure out the flour into a bowl. You handed him the flour to add into the mixture but as he poured it in he dropped some of the flour onto the arm of his suit and you laughed covering your mouth with your hand. 

“oh you think thats funny do you?” He says and he takes a hand a handful of flour and chucks it at you, laughing. You gasp and wipe some of the flour off yourself before grabbing a handful and throwing it back at him. He grabs your hand mid air and pulls you slightly but you trip over your own feet and stumble into him. He catches you and the laughter dies down as you both look into each others eyes, faces dangerously close to each other. His eyes flicker down to your lips and he moves in slightly. But then he stops, and lets you go. Clearing his throat and taking a step back. You take a deep breath and brush some flour off yourself. 

“well, uh, this was fun” he says, slightly awkward “but, I should probably be going now”

“yeah, yeah..” you agree walking him to the door “it’s getting late”

He stops at the door and turns around to smile at you.

“thanks for the pizza, and for the baking lesson”

“no problem” you smile “i’ll bring some of the brownies in to work tomorrow” 

“Good night y/n” he says walking out the door

“Good night” 

You close the door behind him and press your forehead against it, replaying what just happened in your head. Did you really just almost kiss your boss? And did he almost kiss you back? Did you overstep your boundaries even inviting him in tonight? Would things be awkward tomorrow? 

You let out a frustrated sigh and go back to the kitchen to finish baking and tidy up the mess from your flour fight. You know there’s no point thinking about it tonight but you also know that you won’t be able to think of anything else. 

Part Three

Taglist: @brownbuble​ 

[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

Radio Friendly Unit Shifter: The Complete Nirvana Videography

Heart-Shaped Box

Nirvana had originally wanted Kevin Kerslake to direct this video, who had written the initial treatment in July 1992. By the summer of 1993, he had written at least five treatments, which included a shot of Kurt Cobain kissing William Burroughs and another of the entire band hanging by their necks from trees. Yet by the end of August, the band decided to go with Dutch photographer Anton Corbijn. The director seemed initially apprehensive about agreeing to do the video as he had heard Kurt Cobain could act overly detailed in production. He would say, “But then I looked at it and I thought that actually it was pretty good. I was very amazed by somebody writing a song and having those ideas as precise as he did." The video begins with the band standing in a hospital room around an old man receiving an IV drip, then moves to a surreal Wizard of Oz type of outdoor setting. The same old man in a Santa and later Pope hat climbs on a crow infested cross as they sing the song. The video also includes a young girl reaching for fetuses in a tree, while at the same time an overweight woman appears with human organs painted on her chest with a pair of wings. Many of these ideas were actually conceived by Corbijn, not the band as he always came up with the ideas on his own for any of his videos. Upon the promotion’s release, Kevin Kerslake sued the band for copyright infringement, as the case would be settled out of court. Upon its release, the clip became the most played video on MTV eventually garnering two video music awards for Best Alternative Video and Art Direction. Dave Grohl, Krist Novoselic, and Pat Smear accepted the awards as Kurt Cobain had already passed. New Musical Express named it as the 11th best music video of all time, while Time magazine called it the number 10 music video ever saying it was both “beautiful and terrible.” In 2016, Dave Grohl reunited with the young girl from the video, who had this to say about the reunion. “Today reminded me that I peaked at 6 years old but I was the most badass kid on the playground. Today was the absolute coolest. Or in Dave's words seeing each other today was a 'historic moment'! What a legend!”

Sliver

A music video for the song was released in 1993 to promote the compilation album, Incesticide. The video would be directed by longtime collaborator Kevin Kerslake. The clip begins with Kurt Cobain holding his young daughter up behind some cardboard as she dances along to the first few seconds of the track. The video moves to Cobain’s garage, where it shows the band performing the song. Dave Grohl is playing on the drums, even though he never played on the original song. Cobain only sings into a microphone, but he's never seen playing guitar. He is wearing a red mohair sweater that Courtney Love had purchased for him from a fan at a Nirvana show in Belfast, Northern Ireland. His whole garage is filled with toys and decorations the singer had placed in storage just before the release of Nevermind that he had collected over the years. The collection included a Chim Chim toy monkey that was given to him from the Japanese band Shonen Knife.

Come As You Are

This video would actually be the first one directed by Kevin Kerslake, who was hired after such a negative experience with the director on Smells Like Teen Spirit. The concept would be developed by Kerslake as Cobain could not come up with any ideas, so he let the director develop the video. The singer’s only requirement was that some kind of reference be made to the cover of the Nevermind album. The clip shows the band in a dark room as water falls around them obscuring their form. Other images include Cobain swinging from a chandelier, a dog wandering around the room, a baby swimming in a pool, and a pistol falling underwater. The end of the video shows the entire group lying on the ground as Cobain kisses the camera.

Lithium

This video originally had a concept of doing a short animated story about a female girl named Prego. This girl lives in a forest, when she finds some eggs and takes them to a king in a nearby castle. Unfortunately, both Kevin Kerslake and Cobain discovered that it would take four months to produce the video, so they abandoned the idea. Kerslake instead created a collage of concert footage for the video made up of their 1991 Paramount Theater concert and other footage from the 1992 film, The Year Punk Broke. Biographer Michael Azerrad would make this critical comment about the clip. "Although [the video] was enlivened by Kerslake's neat trick of using more violent footage during the quiet parts of the song and vice versa, it was something of a disappointment from a band and a song that promised so much."

You Know You’re Right

Chris Hafner directed this video released in October 2002 to coincide with the single of the same name. The clip shows a montage of The band in either concerts or interviews, but giving the impression that they are actually performing the song. The video would reach number two on Billboard’s music videos chart. New Musical Express would go on to nominate it for Best Music Video in 2002.

In Bloom

Two versions of this video exist. The first one showed clips of the band walking around New York City and performing at Maxwells in New Jersey. In the clip, one can see Krist Novoselic in some shots has hair and others a shaved head. The reason for that comes from the fact that he had to shave it as punishment for a mediocre performance during a show at the Pyramid Club. They made this alternate version for a compilation dvd on the Sub Pop label, Sub Pop Video Network Volume One. The second version, which most people remember is called the Nevermind version. This promotional clip would be directed once again by Kevin Kerslake and released in November 1992. Kurt Cobain’s original concept for it was to tell the story of a young girl born into a Ku Klux Klan family until she realizes the evil nature of her parents, but the concept seemed much too difficult to work out. He then switched it into a parody of 1960’s television shows like the Ed Sullivan Show. The entire video was shot in original cameras of the period in Kinescope, while the band did the entire song without a script. The actor playing the host was Doug Llewellyn, who had worked as the reporter interviewing people after their case on the People’s Court. Cobain wanted to make a funny parody video to show that there was another side to Nirvana. He felt “so tired for the last year of people taking us so seriously . . . I wanted to fuck off and show them that we have a humorous side to us.” The entire band would wear suits during their performance, while the Nirvana frontman had glasses that eventually made him quite dizzy. He would later say in a Melody Maker interview that they wanted to parody groups like the Dave Clark Five, but not the Beatles. He would never mock the Fab Four due to their influence on his songwriting. In the clip, Novoselic is wearing short hair, which he liked so much that he never changed it. They eventually destroy all of their instruments and the stage by the end of the song. In Bloom would go on to win the 1993 MTV Music Video Award for Best Alternative Video.

Smells Like Teen Spirit

This video would be directed by first timer Sam Bayer. The director believed that he actually got hired because the work on his résumé seemed so below average that Nirvana thought that it would represent the opposite of anything remotely corporate. The concept developed by the band was to stage a school concert that ended in a riot. The idea had been based on the films Rock ‘n’ Roll High School starring the Ramones and The 1979 film, Over the Edge. The clip begins with the band playing the song during a pep rally in a high school gym as cheerleaders wearing sweaters with the anarchy symbol on them cheer along. Every so often, the camera cuts to a janitor dancing alongside his broom. The video ends with the apathetic students going from the bleachers to the gym floor in a full-scale riot. The apathy from the students was actually real as they had been sitting on the bleachers all day. Cobain was finally able to convince Bayer that the students should be allowed to mosh at the end of the video. The singer said, “Once the kids came out dancing they just said 'fuck you', because they were so tired of his shit throughout the day.” The Nirvana frontman hated the directors final edit of the video so much that he went in himself creating what became the final version. Upon its release, Rolling Stone’s David Fricke would say that it was “the greatest gig that you could ever imagine.” The video would go on the win MTV Video Music Awards for Best New Artist and Best Alternative Video. In 1999, the video was named the number three music video of all time on a list put out by MTV. VH1 named it number 18 in the greatest television moments in the history of music as alternative music now became a “commercial and cultural force.” At the end of 2019, the video had been viewed 1 billion times on YouTube.

[madisonrooney]

hi it's your secret santa! first of all HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! i hope you have a wonderful day! how are you celebrating, if you are at all? safely, i hope! either way i hope you manage to find a way to have a great day full of love!! consider my christmas gift a belated birthday gift as well lol. anyway i loved reading your last answer, it was so thoughtful and sweet. i realized after reading that i barely know anything about dove lol so follow up q: what about dove makes you love her so much?

sorry for the late response! the last couple days have been v busy and ive been super tired and dissociative on top of it so i made a point to save this bc i wanted to give it my full attention!

first of all thank you!! i was going to do a virtual meet and greet with one of my favs from jersey boys but he got confused about timezones so we rescheduled but were doing it next week! then i went to a virtual walt disney family museum panel, had pizza for dinner and watched some liv and maddie, my mom made a cookie cake that we ate while watching the grinch musical, and then some friends and i watched the jersey boys movie together over skype!

im so glad you enjoyed reading my last answer! and oof thats another loaded question (i love it tho)

- like i said when first talking about what drew me to her and liv and maddie, a big thing is just how much passion and love she puts into her characters. ofc she puts passion into every character she plays, but its the passion she puts into characters like liv, maddie, and mal that means the most to me. that goes back to the fact that ive dealt with a lot of negativity directed towards me for enjoying disney channel, and then you have dove out here saying “yah im a teenager/twenty-something who not only respects what theyre doing on disney channel, but puts my all into it” not to mention she even won an emmy for playing liv and maddie in season 4! i hope that passion and talent has started to change the conversation about disney channel, and tbh i think it has at least a bit.  ofc, none of this is to say other people her age acting on disney channel arent talented and passionate, but idk, something about her has always stood out to me. i find her to be more animated and expressive than most. it can be hard for me to read emotions in live action movies and shows, so thats been really important for me. not to mention she was not only playing the lead but TWO lead characters on a four season show with distinct personalities but also subtle similarities. AND the main character in the biggest DCOM franchise in years for 5 years running now. PLUS the fact that there was a period where those were both happening at the same time. she was only 16 when she started all this and hadnt even had any big roles prior to it!! she had a lot of responsibility so it was amazing to see her not only pull it off, but excel at it.

- i just love like....her aesthetic?? shes always seemed to be a very old soul to me, into old jazz music and poetry and stuff like that. its just very charming. and for her to have that aesthetic on top of being a disney channel actress is a fascinating juxtaposition.

- this is kind of sappy and it gets tiring to hear it said over and over again but that doesnt mean it isnt true: i love how transparent she is about her struggles with mental health issues, trauma, and such. she has been for a long time but even more so over the last year or two. no shade to anyone else, but a lot of actors dont really give you a look into their personal lives, they just share and promote their product. im not saying theres anything wrong with that, its good to know what youre comfortable sharing, ive just felt all the more close to her with her being as open as she is, especially as someone who has gone through trauma myself, albeit different from hers.

- kind of connected to that, i love how important spreading kindness, positivity, and love is to her. thats another thing thats been said a million times but still, its very important to me.

for example. she’ll randomly tweet things like “i love you” a lot. im one to always think of the thought process that goes on behind whatever someone posts, texts, etc., bc personally i put a lot of a thought into pretty much anything i say or do before i put it out there publicly, probably bc of my social anxiety. even tho its a simple statement and takes her a couple seconds to post, she still had to have the thought “i want to remind my fans that theyre loved” or something along those lines. and she has this thought FREQUENTLY. to just randomly get a notification every few days or weeks or so of her saying something like that is just very heartwarming to me.

the reason i connected with miley so much when she helped me through my initial trauma was bc it felt like even if no one loved me, she loves her fans, thus she loves me. thus the person i love and admire the most loves me. even if its only one person, it can be enough. it was for me at the time. i feel that same way with dove. when she came into my life, i didn’t feel as unloved, but her love was still helpful to me.

- of course i need to specifically talk about her kindness in person too. dont get me wrong (ive been saying that a lot havent i lol), i totally and completely loved her long before i met her, but naturally, i love her 10x more after the experiences ive had getting to know her in person.

i could go ONNNNNNN about the experiences ive had with her, and i have lol, and if you already heard me ramble about this in the server i apologize, but the most important thing ive taken away from every encounter ive had with her is this: she always goes the extra mile. she always goes out of her way to make people feel special. what i mean by that is she could say/do HALF as much as she has when meeting me and i would still leave over the moon feeling loved. you can tell she does this in excess bc she really truly means it and cares about people like me, she doesnt have any kind of ulterior motive and isnt just going through the motions doing whats asked of her, she simply cares about me and the rest of her fans. some examples - the first time we met, i was sobbing (lol) and she hugged me for a really long time, rocking me back and forth, brushing my hair with her thumb, calling me sweetheart and honey. she even started to tear up a bit herself. - a couple months later, i went to my first liv and maddie taping. i was preparing to reintroduce myself (i looked a little different bc id been cosplaying as maddie the first time i met her) and ofc when preparing myself, i fantasized pretty heavily as i usually do and pictured myself showing her the pic of us on my phone, her gasping, jumping out of her chair screaming, and hugging me, thinking that was probably way more than i was gonna get. that is EXACTLY what happened. then she went on to tell me how my costume made her whole weekend. things like this would continue to happen where i would set the bar impossibly high and not only would she meet it but she’d exceed it. - our usual interaction from there on would start with her face lighting up when she saw me, her calling me some kind of cute name like love or baby, and then hugging me without me even having to initiate it. - when i saw her in mamma mia, i didnt know when id be seeing her again afterwards after pretty consistently getting to see her for 2 years, so i wanted to make sure we got some kind of closure. at the stage door, i reminded her how much she meant to me and just expected like an “aww i love you too” or something back, but she said “you are an angel in my life” and i will never forget that. obvs, i havent told her ALL the details about what she and her characters mean to me but like...she can tell. she can tell if im in a homemade maddie costume sobbing into her arms that theres something there, and shes VERY appreciative of that. - i thankfully got to see her at a meet and greet a few months later and every time i thought i should get going cuz i didnt want to hold the line up, she would just open her arms for another hug. speaking of being appreciative, she even said “thank you for being such a supportive fan.” as i left, i turned around to say one last goodbye. i made sure she wasnt with the next fan yet and yelled out “bye!” and she yelled back “I LOVE YOU!!” and blew me a kiss. again, its the little things. - i saw her at a small panel in new york a few months after that. she walked in the room when the lights were down as they were playing a clip, she quietly waved hi to everyone, then saw me and loudly whispered HI BABY!!! and stopped on her way to the stage to give me a hug. (then she looked at me from the stage and asked which way i thought she should cross her legs for the interview lol) - sometimes when she sees im next in line, shell give me a knowing smile or whisper “hi baby!!” or something like that. she saw me in the crowd after clueless and seemed to make a point to come to me last bc she knew wed be talking for a while, which we did. she even told me she’d seen me in the audience, asking if i was in the front on the left, which i was.

even all that is still just scratching the surface. weve “known” each other for 5 years now and every time i think she’s done the most she can do, she outdoes herself again. not to mention when im at these events, i see her treat all the fans she meets with all of that kindness too. naturally all of this has made me love her all the more.

- finally, lets just be honest here..........................shes REALLY fucking hot.

[kimjuncottton]

kpop fan profile lol

tagged by: @nctsworld thank you cee!! 

fandoms: lol well i would say i am an sm hoe lol

ult bias(es): suho!! hes my fave dude lol im also really weak for johnny, kun and jaebeom lol 

utl group(s)/soloist(s): exo, nct (all the units 🥺), got7, vixx, exid~

other groups/soloists: shinee, gfriend, red velvet, loona, winner, apink, lee hi, hyuna, sunmi, boa. i like a lot groups musically but i dont follow them other than what music that they release lol but these are the groups i really love the members from too lol

kpop albums i own: 😳 oh my god i was just talking about all the kpop albums i own with my bffs the other day lol....i dont actually know how many never counted. but i have all of albums for exo, nct, vixx, got7 and exid. and some for all the groups i mentioned in the previous answer lol

other kpop merch i own: well i got into kpop photocard collecting lol i dont know why but i really love it lol. um also i have light sticks for exo, vixx, got7 and wayv lol. also a bunch of posters, photobooks, seasons greetings, some figures for exo, i think thats the majority....i really have a lot of stuff lol

kpop concerts i’ve been to: lol omg cee i also saw wonder girls when they toured with the jonas brothers! lmao i didnt know really who they were at the time but i do remember them teaching us the dance for nobody lmao. anyway ive only seen them, got7 and ravi from vixx. but when i was in korea i went to a recording of the show and i saw astro, monsta x, lovelyz, gugudan, perform, also i saw the last kiss with leo from vixx and luna from f(x) perform!

biggest wreckers: well, no one has ever come close to taking suhos spot as my number one lol but like johnny and kun really up there lol. in nct theres taeil and taeyong who are my wreckers lol

favorite songs:  oh my god i have no idea lmao ill take the songs from my top most played songs ever tho i guess. boomerang (chinese ver) - exo is my most played song lol also from exo kokobop (chinese ver), history (kor ver), growl (kor ver), power (chi ver), thunder (kor ver), the eve (chi ver), vixx: dynamite, milky way and black out, nct: limitless (my fave prob), baby dont stop, come back (wayv), apink: im so sick, shinee: dazzling girl live & queen of new york (i wasnt expecting that), exid: ddd and no way. got7: eclipse and runaway.

favorite albums: oh boy....idk lol im not even sure my fave exo album lol. i think i listen to the war albums most tho. vixx’s voodoo and chained up! shinee misconceptions of us & odd, nct empathy, wayv awaken the world, nct 127 cherry bomb & limitless, exid street!, suho self portrait, baekhyun city lights, taemin want and fx 4walls.

kpop doppelganger: lol literally no one.

tagging: eh i will just tag @awoozi, @taeyonarahitori, @theresastarmanwaiting and @kim--jongdae ~ yall dont have to do it tho obviously 💖

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Our Home

Summary: This part is dedicated to the plan, to get rid of “The Mac.” Some day we will live in a home full of love and we’ll be happy, we’ll get there.

Bambam X Reader

Multi-parted: Part I, Part II, Mini-Part III, and Mini-Part IV.

Warnings: This story is going to deal with the elements of prostitution, abuse, arson, and murder. (Also it’s a punk au)

(This was kind of inspired by Matt Healy talking about his song The Robbers, but um,... then it took a completely different story of it’s own so enjoy the ride).

Waking up next to Bambam is unbelievable I think to myself as I slip out of bed. Looking around at our room, it’s hard to believe we are living together, finally. We own a home together now, but wherever he is I’m home. I can’t believe we’ve made it this far, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I get dressed for work, I fix up my outfit in front of the floor-length mirror in our room. Bambam comes up behind me, a big smile adorning his face. He wraps his arms around me telling me, “You look beautiful today.” I turn my head to stare up at him, “You say that every day.” He laughs, “I mean it every day too” I laugh and kiss his nose. A year and four months ago Bambam and I were living inside a nightmare, we found solace in each other.

In New York, it felt like I couldn’t escape the life I had been living. In the beginning, it was wonderful, the cash flow, the people I was with. Everything was the ideal version of what being a prostitute under an assortment of pimps. Like major sports, in this industry, you are traded to a different pimp to make more money. I’ve been traded so many times I lost count, at first, it was nice because everyone I was traded with was kind and caring. Until I met Millikan “The Mac” Gillions, he was the highest paying pimp and he had the most prostitutes under him. At first, it was incredible, everyone got along and we made bank each night. Or so I thought, I never had to lay with a pimp that was what my contract had always stated. If I wanted to make the amount he was offering me, I had to let him use me whenever he wanted. I agreed because I wanted the money, I regret this decision to this day. Every time I had to venture up those stairs, I knew I wouldn't be coming out the same way I went in. 

I was wrong to think nothing could ever break my stride. For a long time, I had a hard time admitting to myself that I was being sexually abused. By a man that is supposed to look out for prostitutes, was abusing and taking advantage of them. I made a promise to myself as I looked at the mirror after a session with “The Mac.” That I would get out of this situation and not let anything get in my way. That’s when Bambam came into my life and changed it forever. 

That was eight months ago, Bambam, my regular comes to the mansion every Wednesday and sometimes on Sundays. I’ve fallen for him and I know he feels the same way. I wave to him, “Hi, Bambam!” I exclaim excitedly as he struts toward me grabbing my hand and intertwining our fingers. As we walk up to my room, I catch the sight of “The Mac” and I give him a cute wave, playing my part. If only he knew what he had in store for him that night. 

---

The first time I meant Bambam was at a club in downtown Rochester. I told him two hundred for the whole night if he wanted to be with me. He agreed and gave me two hundred on the spot, I put it in my wallet and had him follow me to a private room. As he shut the door, I started to take off my jacket and he shook his head. “Can we just talk tonight?” I shrugged and agreed and sat on the bed next to him. But this wasn’t the last time he would ask to talk to me, rather it was the first of many. Each time he came in I found myself charging him less and less. He reminded me every time he came in that I was more than a sex object that I was a person who had feelings. After the third night he met up with me, I invited him to the mansion. 

Two months into our friendship we finally slept together. Not to be biassed or anything, but no one else can compare to Bambam. As we laid facing each other, I was so caught up in the moment that I ended up telling him about Gillions. Instead of interrupting me he just let me talk about “The Mac.” How he forces us to stay with him, how he sexually abuses us, and that there is no way out. He grabbed my hand and brought it up to his lips and stated, “You’re not going to stay here, we’ll figure out how to get you out of here, you don’t deserve this. You deserve luxury, and nothing but,... you got that?” he placed a kiss on my hand as I nodded.

That's when our plan started, the plan to take out "The Mac." Almost every Sunday, "The Mac" had us go out on the town to meet up with some regulars or gain more business. For Bambam and I, it became our planning period. The next Sunday, I called Bambam telling him what corner I was waiting for him was. He smiled at me as he parked his motorbike before strutting over to me and taking my arm in his. He led me to his Harley, he swung his leg over and gestures for me to do the same. I swing my leg over and wrap my arms around his waist, he looks back at me with a wink he takes off. 

He took me through Rochester taking me through his memory lane, telling me little tidbits about each place. His childhood was filled with such light, it makes me wonder what led him to here. It shouldn’t have been possible for him to have met me. I belong to the darkness and he lived in the light, yet in him, I feel such solace. The last place he shows me is an abandoned building, the lights were still on and the water still worked. Why did he save this place for last, what is so special about it?  He turns and looks at me with a glint of mischief in his eyes, "Wanna go in?" I nod as he brings me to the back of the building. He climbs through a broken window and holds out his hands waiting for me to grab them. My heart beating with adrenaline as he pulls me into the building. 

I look around and realize it's an old workhouse, Bambam pulls me into his side. He explains to me, “When I was little my mother would take me and my siblings here to see her work. We were so proud of her, she’s always been our hero. Suddenly, the building up and foreclosed, all of the workers lost their jobs without notice. We were destitute, to the point where I haven’t seen my siblings again. We were all finding jobs to keep our family afloat. I was fifteen when I joined a gang, at first it was easy money. Like stealing money from old shopkeepers, it didn’t stay like that for long. I’ve seen many men killed in these very walls, and I’ve shot every one of them.” I nod, not knowing what to say, but I can finally connect the dots of what led him to me. “The last job as a gang member I had was to burn all the evidence. Something in my heart hasn’t been able to burn this place.” He sighs, “My mom now owns a cafe, she’s doing better now. I sort of know what my siblings do… I guess the reason why I never set this place aflame. Is that this place was the last place the five of us were all together at the same time.” I move my hand under his jacket and rub his back, trying to comfort him.  

I see him blinking back the tears in his eyes, “I wonder if they ever think about me--.” That’s when I cut him off, “Of course they do, they’re your family, they love you Bambam. I know the crimes you committed were with good intentions. You wanted your family safe even if it meant risking your own safety.” He pulls me into a hug, as he cries against my shoulder. “Bambam,...” I coo as I run my fingers through hair, he lets out a small, ‘hmm’. I tell him, “Maybe when the next holiday comes up, you contact them and have your family over." He gulps, “I,... yeah, you always know just what to say (Y/n).” He sighs again before looking into my eyes, “But you’re my family too.” I shake my head with a laugh, “Bambam, I feel the same way” He kisses my nose as he pulls out a lighter. “Have you ever danced in the rain?” I shake my head ‘no’, “I guess it’s time to change that” 

He throws up a lighter as it spins upward into the air, it hits the fire sprinkler. The sprinklers shrill to life as he spins me around. He cheekily states, “Don’t worry I turned off the alarms years ago” I laugh, as he twirls us around. Our feet moving together like they were always meant to dance together. He spins me around till he reaches the record player. He turns on the record player soft classical music fills the air, “I didn’t know you liked this.” I whisper to him, talking feels like it would ruin this moment. He whispers back to me our faces drawing closer to each other, “There is a lot you don’t know about me, but I’m willing to share.” He winks as I pull him closer to me, “I would love to listen.” I whisper in his ear and he looks down at my lips, then up at my eyes, I wink as he pulls me in for a kiss.

We pull away and I can’t help but giddily laugh as he rubs his nose against mine. He laughs and kisses my nose again, “I got a plan” he tells me with a brilliant smile coming over his face. He takes me down a level, to a room that isn’t raining. “I’m going to teach you how to shoot a gun” My eyes get big, not ready for that realization. “I-I uh…” before my resolve becomes clear, “Okay!” I say, confidence growing in me as he goes to a cabinet and pulls out two guns. “This room was used as the meeting room back in the day. It's soundproof, don’t worry, plus the cops are downtown and were on the outskirts.” 

He leans a table against a wall for us to shoot at, he grabs a gun and hits it dead in the middle without even looking. My jaw drops, “Fuck,... That was kinda hot.” I let out our hair dripping water droplets onto the carpet. He winks back at me as I ask, “You really think I can do that?” He smirks, “I don’t think you can, I know you can.” I gulp, and nod, I try to shoot the same way he did before he goes, “No, no, no!” I give him a look, “I was just doing that to show off” I make an ‘o’ with my lips understanding what he meant before. Before I tsk, “Showoff” He winks at me, “Let me show you how you properly shoot a gun while you’re learning.” I laugh, “Alright, Babe.” He kisses me, “I like that,” I raise my brow, “Which part?” He rolls his eyes, “The Babe part, but I have to say kissing you is definitely a second best.” I shake my head with a smile apparent on my face, “You’re too cheeky,...” He laughs, “Maybe so,” he says with a shrug. 

The atmosphere changes from light-hearted to serious. As he positions my legs, correcting my stance before guiding me into my first shot. I almost hit the middle dead on with his hands wrapped around mine. My heart beating a mile a minute, not because I was shooting a gun, but because Bambam makes my heart all fuzzy. Simple things like this with Bambam makes my heart beat like it’s running a marathon. This moment reminds me of that famous scene in ‘Ghost’. Where Molly and Sam have their fingers intertwined as they try to make a pottery piece. I can still hear the soft classical music playing upstairs. Not loud enough to alert people that someone is in the building, but loud enough for us to hear.

He shoots a few more times with me, holding me steady. When he finally lets me shoot by myself, I end up missing the table completely and hit the wall. He laughs, but quickly cuts himself off when I look back at him with a glare. “Whoops?” He laughs and turns me around and kisses me, “You’re cute. Now just aim a little to your right this time.” I nod before turning around and hitting the table this time.

I end up running out of bullets in my gun, I sigh still not able to hit the center, but I’m not willing to give up. He handed me a gun full of bullets and that’s all it takes to shoot it dead on. He applauds and kisses me, “I’m so proud of you, that’s my Babe, now let’s play target practice!” My cheeks are bright red as he puts the table back down on the ground and sets up a few old beer bottles on it. He moves behind me and without fail, I hit each of them, “I’m so proud of you.” He kisses me yet again, “I think I love you” he whispers to me. My cheeks are scarlet as I put my face into his chest, hiding my blush. I whisper back to him, “I think I love you too, Babe.” His cheeks scarlet like mine before he spins me around. He tells me to hold on for a second before he comes back with two towels, handing me one to dry off with. The fire sprinklers sounding to a stop, the record player still looping around. He grabs my hand as we walk back up the stairs together, I look at him, and I can’t help but feel my heart skip a few beats.

We sway together as the record ends, “I know we only have one more hour together tonight, but I wish it was more.” I nod, “I wish for it to last longer too,...” I look in his eyes seeing galaxies floating around in them, I could look at them forever and never grow bored. My heart feels full every time I catch a glimpse of them. “Let’s get you home,” I sigh, I know he’s right, but I never want this to end. When we get outside of the building I mutter that “I’m cold.” Not a second later his leather jacket is on my shoulders. “But- You’re gonna be cold,” I say with my brows furrowed as he just shrugs. “With your arms wrapped around me, I’ll never feel the chill.” I shake my head as I put my arms into his leather jacket, that cheeky man.

My heart aching when I had to give it back to him, I kiss him one last time before mingling into the crowd. Eventually, finding one of my fellow workers, I sigh as we talk about who we were with. Mine was a supposed newbie, I wanted as my regular, while in reality, I was with,... the man of my dreams. I think to myself as the guards come and pick us up, they’re the reason we can never leave. They’ll track us down, only a few have made it without getting caught since they are at every exit in the city. If you’ve been caught once, you’re under their close watch.

---

I lock the door as Bambam pulls off his leather jacket. I whisper to him,“ Tonight everyone is out on the town.” He nods asking me if I'm ready to take this next step. As I nod he brings his hand up to my cheek and I lean into his touch. He tells me with certainty that, “I love you, you’re stronger now, I know you’re ready too.” I bring his face to mine, locking eyes with him, he holds my face with both of his hands. I wrap my arms around his neck and we pull each other into a kiss. When we part, I let him know that I love him too. With a wink, he tells me, “You’re my ride or die.” I whisper back, “You’re my partner in crime.” 

---

Two Sundays later, Bambam took me back to the abandoned building. He went over to the record player and switched out Tchaikovsky for Jim Croce. We lay on the top floor listening to Jim Croce’s acoustic ring throughout the building. I roll towards him as “Time In A Bottle” comes on and I sing to him. “I'd save every day like a treasure and then, again, I would spend them with you” He rolls over facing me, and for a while, we look into each other's eyes. The song starts to end as he sings back to me, “I've looked around enough to know. That you're the one I want to go through time with.” He carefully places his hand on my cheek, caressing it as we stare into the depths of each other's souls. He asks me, “You want to make this official?” I nod and without a second thought I let my heart talk for me, “I love you, Bambam.” He pulled me into his chest, “I love you too, (Y/n).”  

He looks at my eyes again, conveying an emotion that could never be explained but understood. “We’re going to get out of this situation,...” He trails off, and I peck his lips as we listen to Jim Croce's voice, filling in our silence. I look at him, “When we get out of this situation, we’re going to leave crime forever right?” He nods, “Yeah, but what do you wanna be once we are in Cali?” I smile staring off dreamily telling him, “I always wanted to write lyrics, and compose songs for others to enjoy. I write them all the time, I think it would be nice for someone to finally hear them.” Before I ask, “What about you, Bambam?” He grins at me, “I have always dreamed of being a tattoo artist, that’s why I have so many tattoos,...” He trails off dreaming about the future, before he tells me, “But,...” I lean my head to the side wondering what the ‘but’ was about, “I want you to in my future too.” I giggle, “You’re cute, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He perks his head up, “You’re apart of my future from now on till forever.” He giggles and kisses me, “I love you,” he tells me when we part, “I love you too, Babe” I rub my nose against his. 

---

It has taken eight months to get this plan perfect to the last ‘T’. He pulls out two pairs of rubber gloves, as I change into a suitable outfit for what we’re about to do. The thought that keeps running through my mind is no one else will have to worry about “The Mac" abusing them. Bambam pulls off his leather jacket, not wanting it tainted. I move towards him and peck his lips, tonight is the night. When everyone left, Bambam called me ‘out of the blue’, and I told “The Mac.” He agreed to stay here to watch out for me, to make sure Bambam didn’t get out of hand. I know full well he’d be asleep, his room is soundproof even if I screamed for help he would turn a blind eye. As long he is getting a part of the customer’s pay, who is he to get involved? I smirk, he fell right into our trap, Bambam hands me a gun after we put on our gloves. The same devious grin painted on his face, “It’s all yours, Babe.” We walk up the stairs careful not to make a sound, I open the door, our plan coming full circle. “The Mac,” lying on his bed blissfully unaware of his looming death with a single shot, he’s dead and gone. He was the reason why we were trapped in this life, and now he’s trapped in the afterlife. Bambam grabs his wrist with his gloved hands and checks his pulse, “Are you ready to live in Cali with me?” He asks me with this beautiful grin painting his face as if he didn’t just help commit a murder. We move towards each other, my arms wrap around him kissing him, he laughs as he kisses me. 

We loot his safe box, riddled with wads of cash. Lucky for us that he never believed in the banking system. We throw the cash into a bag, as we make a mad dash back to my room. Bambam throws his signature leather jacket on taking my hand in his. He brings it up to his lips and laying a gentle kiss on top of it. He looks up at me biting his lip, “Let’s burn this place to the ground, Babe.” I smirk, as we pour the gas cans throughout the mansion, that once felt like home. It is fitting to see this place burn like the literal hell this place has been. He smirks at me as he pulls out a match, grabbing my hand, with the bag of money we rush out of the mansion. He strikes it on the siding, the flame burning bright as he throws it. The match landing on a puddle of gasoline through the open window. 

Hand in hand we rush to his motorcycle parked two streets away. Adrenaline running through our veins as I grab his face in my hands and tell him, “Kiss me you animal.” He holds my cheeks and brings my lips to his. Standing next to his motorcycle we stand there making out. when we part I lay my head on his shoulder and whisper in his ear, “Let’s start our new life.” He nods as we ride out into the morning sun. My pockets are heavy, my heart is free, and my lover is in my arms, everything is alright, we’ll be out of New York soon. 

By the time we reached the city lines all of the guards had rushed to see the explosion. Now, we’re about a state away in Pennsylvania, leaning against a guardrail. On an old country road, the sun shining brightly onto both of us. He tosses the gun into the rushing river below, my hand finds his and he intertwines our fingers. “How does it feel?” I ask him, “Freeing.” He tells me softly, resting his head on top of mine, “Yeah,...” I sigh in agreement, this all feels like a dream. I know it’s all real, the blood of a scumbag is on our hands, but with Bambam by my side,... All that doesn’t matter to me, he kisses me, “Do you think we’ll make it?” He asks me, “Babe, I’ve seen your works of art, they would be stupid not to take you in. You’ll try anything once and I know you won't stop until you make it big.” He kisses my forehead thanking me, “What about me?” I ask nervousness riddled in my voice, “It’s not even a question,...” I tilt my head, “Why?” He smiles, “One month into our romantic relationship you played guitar in front of me for the first time. You sang your heart out, that sunny Sunday is something I could never forget. The longest day of the year, that sun didn’t go down until you stopped playing. That abandoned building is going to hold many memories for us, but some of which we can never tell. If you can’t make it with the big dogs at first, I know you’ll find a way to surpass them.” He turns my face to look him dead in the eyes, it’s like I’m looking into them for the first time all over again. With my free hand, I reach up and hold his cheek, I tell him confidently, “We can do this.” He nods, “I know we can'' he states sealing our promise with a kiss.

In Ohio, we stopped at The Rockies Eatery to grab lunch. We sat down in a booth across from each other when we noticed the t.v. They already are airing “The Mac’s” death as we order our drinks we’re entranced by the television set. He grabs my hand and his thumb starts rubbing small circles over the back of my hand. I watch in fear even though I know I killed him. Fear is too strong of a word to describe this feeling. But the memories that replay in my brain makes me sick to my stomach. It’s a memoir of his life, recanting his glory of playing on the NFL team the Buffalo Bills. That when he left he got mixed up in gang business, that's when they conclude his memoir telling the viewers that, “Millikan Gillions has been concluded,... a victim of gang killings. While some may say, he’s better off dead, others will mourn the loss of a man who was an all-star running back for the Bills. The sports world is taking a major hit as we mourn Gillions. Rest in peace, Millikan Gillions, this is channel twenty-four at four.” The rest of it drowns out in my ears as I stare at Bambam in shock, his face making a similar motion.

When the waiter comes back over he says, “Man, isn’t that something,... The Browns have a fighting chance without the Bills to stop them, right?” We laugh and I tell him, “The Browns might have it in the bag this year.” The guy agrees and asks us what we want for food. After we order, and he leaves I look at Bambam and we both sigh in relief. This has been one hell of a turn of events, he rubs my knuckles. My heart feels light in my chest as I whisper to him, “You’re my ride or die.” He winks at me and tells me in a low voice, “It seems like we got off scot-free,... We can rest easy in California now.” There are some things better kept as secrets, no one will have to fear "The Mac" again. We’re free, I think to myself as tears well up in my eyes. I blink them back as I stare into Bambam's eyes that are pricking with tears. The emotion we feel at this moment is indescribable like a huge weight has been lifted off of us.

[californiadreaminghq]

Oh good, you made it!

Did you guys know Rhea was coming? She brought Lana May, The Lollipop! And just on time! Grab a drink, find a spot, and make sure you finish everything on the checklist. The band is just getting started – you have 24 hours to send in your account! We’re so glad you’re here!

I. OUT OF THE STUDIO

NAME/ALIAS: Rhea

AGE: 20

PRONOUNS: She/Her

                                               II. ON STAGE

DESIRED SKELETON: The Lollipop

NAME: Lana May

FACE CLAIM: Elle Fanning

AGE: 21

OCCUPATION: Backup Vocals/Keyboard for The Gemstones

                                             III. INTERVIEW

Answer the following questions in your character’s voice:

If you could do anything in the world for a living, what would it be?

‘‘Well i’m already doing it, you silly! This has always been my dream. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be a member of The Gemstones? I’m young, I’m pretty and I get to sing and perform in such a wonderful band. What more could I want from life? I consider myself really blessed. Do you know how many other young girls come into this town with big hopes and dreams? But they don’t all get to sing and play like I do. So, I don’t want to be selfish. I’m truly happy with what I’ve got. But you know, if I weren’t famous, I’d probably be a seamstress just like my wonderful mama. I love fashion. I really do.’’

If you could travel anywhere, where would you go?

‘‘Truth be told, I’m really happy here in L.A. It’s the perfect place for me I think. But I guess maybe I’d go to New York City, I’ve heard it’s much bigger than all the cities here on the West Coast. It’d be a real adventure to get lost in New York. Or perhaps I’d go to Paris? I’ve only seen it on tv, but my oh my, it looks so glamours and chic. Audrey Hepburn makes it all looks so sweet.’’

What is one thing that makes you different than anyone else?

‘’My mom says it’s my smile. No other girl can smile like me. She says that the sparkle in my pretty blue eyes cannot be replaced with any jewelry. So, I guess maybe that? But everybody says that I remind them of cotton candy. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because of the way I dress. Does that count?’’

                                             IV. BACKSTAGE

Thumbelina emerged from a flower into this world, but Lana was created from the finest silk, sugar and gossamer - or so her mother’s bedtime stories oftentimes claimed. Born as Lana Mayor Young, she spent her idle childhood years in her hometown of San Francisco, as the only child of a local seamstress called Viola Mayor. The life of a single mother and a divorced woman had never been a fairy tale for Lana’s mother, but still the little Lana was loved and adored almost to the point of madness.

Vibrant dresses, heart-shaped sunglasses and pretty flowers in her flaxen hair, Lana lived a life most would be envious of thanks to her overprotective and caring mother. At school she was always among the favorite girls in class, simply drawing everyone in with her bubbly smiles, pretty eyelashes and saccharine personality that was practically contagious. Nothing ever seemed too hard or impossible for the young blonde; after all a girl with such a cherubic smile could solve any issue.

But when she wasn’t playing dress-up at her mother’s boutique store ( in hopes of imitating all the stunning clients ) or roaming around with her pretty Barbie dolls, Lana had the tendency to watch tv for hours upon hours and listen to the radio. There was something so undeniably entrancing about all the pretty girls in glittering dresses with shiny microphones in their delicate hands - and the way others looked at them made Lana all the more intrigued. They were revered and idolized and Lana almost immediately became enamored with the world of fame and music, and she wanted to be just like all the ladies on TV as singing in front of a tall mirror wasn’t enough for the little sweetheart.

And so it all started with the young blonde practically begging her loving mother with glistening tears in her eyes to let her join a local choir. At first, her mother had been rather reluctant to say yes to such a whimsical and peculiar wish, but then again saying no to Lana was practically impossible ( really, one cannot find a person strong enough to turn down such a delightful creature with bambie eyes ). Soon after that, she started attending regular practices and extra classes, hoping to improve her voice and make her wildest dream come true. But of course, it didn’t take her long to realize that being a part of a choir wasn’t even remotely similar to her perfect California dream.

However on one fateful sunny afternoon in Los Angeles ( while Lana and her mother were visiting one of her aunts ), a tall and older, but still rather handsome stranger in a black suit approached Lana, claiming she had the perfect face and personality for an upcoming band in his record label ( her voice was the least of his concerns ) and of course Lana was drawn to the whole idea like bees to honey. Convincing her mother was the hardest part in all of it, but too oblivious to see the potential troubles Lana almost immediately signed the pretty contract, more than ready to start a new glamorous chapter in her life.

And really, look at her now, with a new name that rolls off the tongue so smoothly, utterly fit for a stage. She has all she’s ever dreamed of and she lives inside of her pink little bubble, floating around like she’s in some silly dream. Her sweetness and charm are truly hard to ignore and she’s beloved and revered, but be aware my child, the sweetest apples are always the ones that start to rot first.

                                                 V. ENCORE

here’s a pinterest board !