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roguerogerss · 4 years

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A Hard Day’s Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: You’re just about to go to bed, when you get an unsuspected visit from a certain supersoldier.

W/C: 2.2k

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood/injury, language, fluff.

(A/N: Hello again! Here’s another Bucky fic bbys! This has been unfinished in my drafts for the LONGEST time, and I finally got around to finishing it! Thank you so much for the support on ‘Safe Haven’! It really means the world to a small blog like me that people r enjoying my shtuffff. If you enjoy, pls remember to like and reblog! Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!)

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It was three in the morning, and the sky had gone a shade of dark blue when I finally decided that maybe it would be a good time to sleep. I was notorious for not turning the TV off before going to bed, and that night was no different. It was a comfort thing, even though I was fully aware that it was racking up electricity bills, and that I’d be sorry for it at the end of the month.

When I rounded the corner, from the hallway to my bedroom, the only source of light was coming from the still-open curtains, which I didn’t bother to close before getting changed. No one was awake, and I figured that, if anyone was, they might as well have looked. I set an alarm for ten, even though I knew that I would blank it and wake up closer to two in the afternoon anyway, and then I lay on my bed and looked at the ceiling.

It was quiet, peaceful, tranquil. I enjoyed being awake at ungodly hours because it meant that, while I was awake, the world was asleep. I felt superior, like I’d beaten the system and was on an entirely different wavelength from the rest of New York City. Like the birds that I could hear in the distance were my only concerns, and that they were the only ones who truly understood me in of myself. I could’ve laughed at myself for sounding so philosophical in my own head, but I didn’t.

The silence was soothing and unbroken until, was that? No, it couldn’t be. Grunts? Groaning? My face contorted as I listened to whatever the noise was getting closer to my window. It didn’t so much as scare me, it was more worrying. I sat up just in time for my window to be slid open from the outside, not noticing the blur of silver metal and flesh in my state of panic. I was on the verge of picking up the lamp that sat next to my bed to whack the creature with, before the all too familiar figure hopped onto my windowsill and the fear that I was feeling was alleviated.

Bucky motherfucking Barnes.

He held his hands out to me, like he was surrendering, but he still had this grin on his face that he knew could make me melt. I hated him for not knocking, even though I knew that he didn’t knock, that he never had and probably never would. He simply let himself in, and, most nights - all nights - I was okay with that.

“Hey.” Bucky said. He said it so passively, like he hadn't just climbed twelve floors so that he could crawl through my window. Like he hadn't just done it without breaking a sweat. Like this wasn't the first time I'd seen him in almost a month, and it wasn't nearly four AM.

"What are you doing?" I sighed. I sat back down and admired him in his place, with his back against the window frame. He was attractive at all times, from all angles, but I liked him best in the low light of the early hours of the morning. The hollows of his cheekbones and jaw seemed more visible, chiseled, and his skin seemed perfect and unflawed. It was almost like the scars and blemishes that he'd acquired from past missions and suchlike simply ceased to exist. His eyes seemed brighter, more blue, with the way that the dim light reflected in them.

"I know you're probably mad." He pulled one knee up to his chest, circling his arms around it, and stretched his other leg out so that his foot was touching the other side of the window frame. "I don't expect you to be fine with me. Was on a mission, three weeks long, that's why I haven't been around. I know it's late, but I needed to see you as soon as I could."

I stayed quiet as I tilted my head back to look up at the ceiling. There were little patterns on it that I hadn't noticed before. They were faint, because the building was old, and I tried to decipher what they might be. I made a mental note to myself to try to figure out what they were at some other point.

"I would've called, but I was pretty badly hurt and tired most nights. Thought seeing me like that might've upset you." Bucky continued, but I still didn't speak. I didn't want to. I thought maybe I wanted to be mad, wanted some reason to be, but now that he'd given me nothing, I decided to do the same.

"Can you say something? Anything, please?"

I took a shaky breath. It was supposed to be deep, long, but my lungs felt shallow and like they had shrunk in capacity. "I would've liked it if you'd called. Would've been nice to see you."

I was being cold with him and I knew that I was, it was no coincidence and certainly no accident. My eyes were still fixated on the ceiling, trying to concentrate on the unknown patterns instead of Bucky. "Would've been nice to see me?"

I nodded, feeling stupid and like I could've cried, and Bucky scoffed in response. "Tell me, you think it would've been nice to see this?"

Bucky's flesh hand went to the side of his burgundy shirt, which I had seen before, and pulled it up just enough for me to see a large, swollen, red gash on his side. I knew that he'd been slashed by a knife, just from the look of it, but I looked away because I didn't want to see it.

I blinked down at my lap, and shook my head, at a loss for words and really just wanting to go to sleep. It was getting light outside, the intensity of the bird's screeching and bickering becoming increasingly more as the conversation went on.

"Of course you don't. Why would you?" Bucky sounded angry, like I'd personally offended him by not wanting to see the obscene laceration to his side.

"You could've still called. It's not obligatory for you to show me your wounds, in all of their glory."

"I heal overnight, sweetheart. If you get in a fight with someone, and they pull a knife on you, you're always left with more than one cut. And let's not forget that we never had any time to shower, so I was all dust and dirt and dried blood, plus a few stab wounds. Couldn't speak for a week, either, stabbed in the base of the neck and severed my vocal chords. Dr Cho managed to fix 'em up." Bucky had been staring out of the window, at the sky, which was orange and blue due to the rising sun, for the entire time that we'd been speaking. He hadn't looked at me at all, like he was trying to keep his composure and, if he saw my face, he'd lose it.

"Tell me, honestly, would you have wanted to see me like that?" I loved his voice. It was raspy and deep, but still managed to relax me, even when his words were harsh. Hearing him speak took me back to countless nights in my bed, when I'd be woken up by nightmares and Bucky would lull me back to sleep by simply telling me one of his stories from the 1940s. I was like a baby, latching onto his every word until they blurred together, became one, and I fell asleep in his arms.

"You could've texted." I said, lamely.

"Sorry."

"Don't be." I was done with the argument, and I made that clear in my voice and in my words. I wasn't unbothered by the situation at hand, that he hadn't visited, or called, that he'd seemingly forgotten about my existence and fallen off the face of the earth for three weeks, but I was so tired. All I could think about was going to sleep, but I wanted Bucky to be there beside me when I did.

"Are we okay now?" There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and a smirk adorned his face as he took his first look of the night in my direction. It wasn't a big gesture, but the look that he had about him made my heart flutter and beat erratically within the confines of my chest.

I smiled and lay back on my bed, with my hands clasped over my abdomen, ankles crossed, and head lulled back into the white pillows that were placed at the headboard. "Get changed and come here." I pointed to the white dresser that sat at the foot of my bed, and Bucky knew that I was asking him to stay the night, but he didn't seem to want to leave.

He got up, and I heard the heavy thumps of his combat boots against the floor. His footsteps were so loud and it was so late that I was sure that the couple who lived in the apartment directly below mine would complain about the noise the next morning. I heard Bucky opening the drawer, the one that was inexplicably his drawer, and I propped my head up on my hand to watch him.

He peeled his shirt off, inspected the gash on his side — which was already beginning to knit itself shut — and then discarded of his cargo pants and black boots somewhere on the floor of my bedroom. I didn't mind, instead, I watched the muscles in his back flex deliciously as he pulled on a pair of basketball shorts that I kept for when he stayed over.

I had one of his shirts, but he didn't bother putting it on for whatever reason, tiredness or just a general lack of desire to wear one. "It's rude to stare." He turned around, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he crawled towards me from the end of my bed.

Bucky placed a hand on my stomach, hiking up the big shirt that I was wearing so that he could press a kiss to the space above my belly button, the space below it, my hipbones over the pink and white cotton panties that I had on, the insides and outsides of my thighs, the backs of my knees. And then he pushed my legs open and lay between them, sighing as he buried his face in my chest.

One of my hands found his long, dark hair, which was freshly washed and smelled like apples, and the other found his jaw, clean shaven, soft.

"It's four in the morning." My fingers massaged Bucky's scalp while I stated the nonsensical words. I was unaware of what they were supposed to mean, what I wanted him to take from them, but I allowed him to interpret them in whatever way he wanted.

"Mm." Bucky hummed, like he was content or half-asleep, and then he propped his chin lightly on my stomach and looked up at me through his thick, dark lashes. His eyes were so striking that I couldn't help the way that my breath hitched, the way my tongue came out to wet my bottom lip, the way that I felt like butterflies were going berserk in my stomach. "What, you wanna sleep?"

“If that's not too much to ask." I giggled, watching intently as Bucky's eyes flicked over my face and his lips twitched in a tiny smile. He shook his head and kissed my collarbone, before rolling off of me and onto his side. I turned over to face him, and he held my face in his hands and smiled.

"'Course not. I haven't slept properly in weeks." He tugged my face towards his, looked at me with that lopsided grin that set butterflies loose in my stomach, and then captured my lips with his own. It was a sloppy kiss, one that indicated how tired we both were, but it felt nice. Nice to have him back, nice to have finally stopped arguing, nice to be laying in his arms. It just felt nice.

Bucky pulled back, as if to admire me in all of my half-asleep-messy-haired glory, and grinned lazily. “Goodnight, beautiful.” He dragged the comforter up to both of our chins and pulled me close, kissing me on the forehead then. “Sweet dreams.”

I sighed happily, the relief of Bucky being there making my heart swell. It was the same relief that came with Bucky’s return from any mission, whether it was long or short, or whether he had contacted me during it or not. I’d missed him - I always missed him - as much as I liked to pretend that I didn’t.

But he was home, he was here, and he made it clear that he wasn’t going anywhere.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #sebastian stan #captain america #fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #steve rogers #mcu fic #rogue writes #rogue does marvel

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norafinds · 6 years

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ATWWV - Karolina Żebrowska

It is very exciting for me to click publish on this interview with Karolina. I first spotted her exceptional style on Instagram, but almost immediately found her YouTube channel (which brings me so much joy!). I really wanted to get to know her so I just had to feature her on the Around the World with Vintage series. This lady has a great sense of humour and her vibrant personality really shines through her photographs and videos. She’s definitely one Instagrammer I’m dying to meet because I think we will get along like a house on fire! On top of her great personality I am in love with her versatile fashion choices - she wears anything from Victorian to reproduction and damn she pulls them off really well!

What did you study in Scotland?

I studied film and specialized in film directing. I did my bachelor on film studies back in Poland, but I was missing the practical aspects of filmmaking.

You said you started wearing vintage when you moved to Scotland, what decades did you start with?

As many people, I started off with being fascinated by 1950s and then realized I enjoy the 1940s styles and silhouettes more. So my wardrobe at the very beginning was sort of a mix of both – turtlenecks and circle skirts, buttoned up blouses with A-line skirts, depending on the mood. I think finding your style when it comes to vintage can be a long and confusing process that many people don’t realize!

Photo by Klaudia Balazy

What decade do you wear day-to-day now?

Now I’m leaning towards the more simple styles of the 1940s. I like going a bit extra every now and then, with hats, heels and matching accessories, but my wardrobe is a mix of original and reproduction/vintage style clothing at this point, so usually it’s not so over-the-top. I also hate heels, which in terms of creating an authentic 1940s look is a little bit tricky!

I know you originally fell in love with 19th c costumes and started making historical costumes, do you also sew other decades? How do you come up with the pattern and the details? Do you think it’s important for your sewing techniques to be authentic?

At this point I pretty much sew whatever I feel like at the moment, though the 19th century is usually a priority. For some reason sewing more modern clothing, such as 1940s style dresses, is much more difficult for me than making, let’s say, a Victorian bustle era dress. It might have something to do with a fact that it’s much easier to find free old patterns, because the copyright have expired and a lot of them are available online. On the other hand, 1940s and 1950s dresses and clothes could often pass as “modern”, so I feel like there’s a big interest in vintage patterns now, which makes it harder to obtain them. That’s why I often improvise when it comes to 20th century patterns, and that is also why it’s more tricky. When it comes to the sewing techniques, I used to choose whatever gives the fastest results (haha), but now I tend to focus more on how the garments were made back in the day. The techniques and tricks they used were usually thought through, often created especially for the particular silhouette, and affected the fit of the garment. That’s why they give you the most authentic results.

How do you find the confidence to wear antique or antique-inspired pieces when you’re out and about? How do people react?

I don’t wear my historical costumes every day, it’s usually only a matter of getting to a particular spot where a historical event/photoshoot/meeting is held, though it does require a bit of courage. It’s always a lot easier when you go around the city with a friend or a group of friends who are also dressed like it’s 1894, because the chances are you aren’t all insane. When I’m on my own though – it get’s a bit tough. My favorite method is pretending there’s nothing unusual with the fact that I need to lift all four of my petticoats when getting on public transport. My resting bitch face usually scares people off quite well, though there are times when strangers are chasing you with a camera without asking for your permission to take a picture. It’s moments like this when I think to myself “Well, this is why you don’t dress like that every day”.

Is there a big vintage community in Krakow and in Poland?

I think it’s growing really fast. I used to recognize most of the people that dressed vintage or were retro/pin up inspired, but there’s more and more of them. Same goes for vintage themed events, vintage shops and fairs and so on. It’s actually very exciting.

How did you decide to use YouTube as your main platform? Do you have any background in video production or acting?

I actually started out with my own blog, just like you – but then gradually realized that YouTube and it’s format fit my needs best. I had some doubts at first, mainly concerning “putting yourself out there” – internet critics can be harsh and while you can pick your best shots for the blog, you’re suddenly becoming very self-aware when on a video. Do I do something weird with my face when I speak? Will they hate my voice? Is my English even good enough? I did some acting, filming and editing back in my high school days, so I had some background, which I think helps tremendously when you’re starting out with YouTube. The thing I’ve learnt though is to constantly stay up-to-date with the newest content, even if it doesn’t have anything to do with what you specialize in.

You successfully inject humor and popular culture into your videos - how did you decide on what kind of content you want to produce and how do you regularly come up with ideas for new videos?

I remember myself a couple of years ago, thinking “I love vintage style, I love the elegance, but there’s no way I could ever be like all those sophisticated Instagram ladies – I’m just too goofy for that”. What I used to think was my weakness turned out to be what some enjoy the most about my channel. They like to see vintage style being “normalized” or “modernized”. All the beautiful models we see on Vogue covers from 50s and 40s can give you a very wrong idea of what these eras looked like. Also, there’s no point pretending it’s not 2019. I can dress up all I want, but I will scroll through Instagram in my 1940s suit, and I will eat a cheeseburger in a Regency dress, because I’m hungry and have no time to change. I think it’s the contrast between the eras I’m talking about in my videos and the fact that I’m doing it now, in the age of memes and pop culture, that makes it all so funny.

When it comes to particular ideas, it’s usually pretty random. I sometimes come up with an idea and write it down on my phone. Then, when I have the time I dig the ideas up. Either that or I just start setting up the camera thinking about what I’ll be shooting today - unless it’s a topic that requires some deeper research or preparations.

youtube

Tell us a bit about the process of your video productions? Do you have a regular cameraman or audio person etc.

No, I do everything on my own. I think as long as it doesn’t lower the video quality significantly I’ll keep doing it myself, because working with other people always slows down the whole process. My sister is my camerawoman sometimes when we go outside, and it’s hard enough to work around our schedules. Most of the videos I do are also quite spontaneous. Very rarely I do some actual planning – usually I wake up and think “Hm, it’s been a while since the last video. I should probably shoot something today”.

How did you decide to do YouTube full-time? Does it free up your time to pursue other interests as well? Tell us about your book and any other project!

I never really decided anything, it just sort of lined up with what happened in my life – I just finished my master’s degree, moved back to Poland, didn’t have the slightest idea what’s happening next. But I kept doing the videos, because there were people out there waiting, and after a little while it was enough money to keep me going. To be honest I still see it as a sort of a “side job” – I’m hoping to be still working on other projects while “youtubing”. Last year it was my book on Polish 20th century fashion which I started working on around March and it came out in December. This year I have a couple of things lined up, but I’d rather not say yet. You’ll have to wait and see

Photo by Klaudia Balazy

What is the one thing you’d like the readers to know about you?

That I often dress up especially for my videos. Same with Instagram - I only post pictures of myself when I’ve actually put an effort into my outfit, which is not too frequently. The internet lies, I’m not that fancy every day!

#norafinds #around the world with vintage #atwwv #karolina zebrowska #interview #vintage #blog #blogger #youtuber #instagrammer

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aion-rsa · 5 years

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The Many Origin Stories of The Joker

https://ift.tt/2OhrRwu

The Joker has had many different versions of his origin told over the years, including in the new movie.

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This article contains some spoilers for the Joker movie. We have a completely spoiler free review right here.

The Joker is probably the most recognizable supervillain in the world. Loosely ased on famed German actor Conrad Veidt in The Man Who Laughs, the Clown Prince of Crime’s unique look and penchant for elaborate, themed murder has left a giant mark in the public consciousness. His real world origins are in dispute - Bob Kane claims the Joker was his creation, but Kane was so full of it that Jim Steranko, the legendary artist behind the groundbreaking Nick Fury: Agent of SHIELD, once went upside Kane’s head because Kane patted his face like some nobody kid. The general scholarly consensus is the Joker was created by Jerry Robinson and Bill Finger rather than Kane.

And while the Joker’s real world origins are disputed and nebulous, his in-continuity origins are generally pretty thematically consistent. The real variation comes from a creator’s fundamental view of the Joker: is he a character within the Batman universe? Or is he a primal force standing in opposition to what Batman represents? Or are you...whatever the hell Gotham was? Let’s take a look.

THE RED HOOD: VARIATIONS ON A THEME

Most Joker origin stories hit several of the same notes. A man is involved in a crime in a chemical plant, falls into one of the tanks, and comes out a crazed psychopath with chemically bleached skin and a shock of green hair, often with a permanent smile of some kind.

In most of those, the man involved is a flamboyant criminal known as the Red Hood. While the Joker’s first appearance was in 1940’s Batman #1, his actual origin wasn’t fleshed out for more than a decade. In 1951’s Detective Comics #168, it was revealed that a dapper master criminal in a domed red helmet was planning a heist at Ace Chemicals. He was caught in the act by Batman and Robin and dove into a catch basin full of chemicals to escape them. Those chemicals deformed him, turning him into an evil-looking clown, so he leaned into the gimmick and became the Joker.

This origin is the foundation for a lot of variations. In Alan Moore and Brian Bolland’s The Killing Joke, the unnamed man who becomes the Joker was originally a lab assistant at Ace Chemicals who took up the most dangerous job known to man, stand up comedy, to make extra money to support his pregnant wife. When that didn’t work, he then signed up with some mobsters to rob his former workplace as the Red Hood. After his wife died and he was forced to stick with the robbery anyway, he jumps into a chemical vat to escape Batman, with the usual results.

read more: Every Batman and DC Easter Egg in the Joker Movie

And in Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo’s “Zero Year” from 2013, the story is basically the same, only with the Red Hood being a gang of criminals instead of just one. It’s the mysterious Red Hood One, the leader but possibly one of any number of rotating primaries, trying to escape Batman by jumping into a vat of chemicals as a planned heist of Ace goes wrong.

There are small differences to each of these origins, but they’re all fundamentally the same - one bad day turns a regular person into a super-psychopath. It’s worth noting that two of the four modern movie interpretations of the Joker also go roughly down the “chemical bath” route. While we never learn the exact details, it’s a safe bet something along these lines happened to Jared Leto’s nameless Joker of the DCEU before Suicide Squad. But other big screen Jokers took a slight detour...

JACK NAPIER

Tim Burton's Batman from 1989 followed a similar premise, only without the Red Hood aspect. Jack Napier was set up by Carl Grissom, his immediate supervisor in the mob, to die in a robbery at Axis Chemicals. Napier caught on to the setup and killed Grissom, but falls over the side of a catwalk and is accidentally dropped into a vat of chemicals by Batman, who was trying to save him. There, we get the added bonus of a bullet ricochet scarring and paralyzing the facial muscles of the vain and handsome Napier, hence the permanent grin.

read more: What the Joker Controversy Gets Wrong

This is also pretty much what his origin was in Batman: The Animated Series. Jack Napier is referred to by name several times throughout the series, and a gangster who Bruce is convinced eventually becomes the Joker is responsible for the death of Andrea Beaumont’s father in Mask of the Phantasm. However, this takes some piecing together, because to the best of my knowledge, it’s only ever referred to and not directly shown.

WANNA KNOW HOW I GOT THESE SCARS?

Not every origin story for the Joker follows that pattern. Or any pattern at all, really.

Heath Ledger’s Joker is probably the one that is most solidly planted in the current popular consciousness. Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight very pointedly did not give a clear origin for the character, opting instead to present him as a force of chaos, a kind of psychotic antibody to the Batman’s rigid order. He gives two vastly different (and terrifying) origin stories at different points in the movie, one where his father carves up his face because he’s a violent drunk, and one where he does it to himself to make his wife happy after she gets her own face disfigured by bookies. We’re never told if either is true, but that’s the exact point the movie is trying to get across - it doesn’t matter where he comes from, just what he’s doing. The Joker in The Dark Knight is less a character, and more an elemental reaction to the existence of Batman.