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frozenartscapes · 7 years

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Things I Can’t Believe I Haven’t Thought About Yet: Frozen’s Olaf V.1

Last night I reblogged this post and kinda got into a bit of a tag ramble:

#seriously having spent my childhood making snowmen i can tell you it's fucking hard to find twigs that even remotely resemble hands#most of my snowmen ended up armless because of this#...which begs the question: where'd they get the rocks and twigs for the first time they built olaf?#did somewhere in that goofing off montage did they go outside and wander around the castle grounds until they found what they wanted?#or did they have these from an earlier snowman build and just saved them for another use?#because if it was option one arendelle castle REALLY needs better night guards#either that or these two have basically ninja-level sneaking skills

And now I’m thinking about it. So where did little Anna and Elsa get the materials to make Olaf the first time?

Believe it or not, the snow is actually the easiest thing to get an answer for. Elsa. Elsa made the snow in the middle of the ballroom. But what about everything else?

The carrot we can assume they swiped from the kitchen. That must have happened off-screen sometime during their “let’s have fun in the snow before everything goes to shit” montage. We can also assume that the stones used for Olaf’s eyes and buttons are likely lumps of coal, which could have also been found in the kitchen/staff quarters areas as there are probably coal-based furnaces around those areas. It’s possible they’re charred bits of logs from a fireplace, but coal is the more likely option.

And now we get to the twigs. Because that is an excellent question to be asking: just where did an eight year old and a five year old get twigs from in a large, ornately decorated castle? There aren’t many places I can think of that would have twigs just lying around. Maybe an old broom? But the sticks making up his arms don’t look like they’d be used in a broom. I also doubt this was the time period to be decorating interiors with random sticks. None of the pieces are big enough to be considered kindling, either, so they likely wouldn’t have even been brought inside with the other firewood. So, as a result we can assume they got them from outside. It might just be that wooded courtyard we saw in FTFTIF, but still...outside. Through several main corridors, past several large and heavy doors, and outside into a courtyard that is encompassed by either more castle or a wall (likely) patrolled by guards.

So how in the flying fuck did these two giggling dorks sneak through the halls, gather up a carrot, several lumps of coal, and head outside to find the perfect sticks for snowmen hands/hair without getting caught? Seriously, if Anna had never been struck by Elsa’s magic the first thing I’d be thinking about if I was their mother and caught them in the act was ‘you got how far outside without a single person noticing???’ Where the hell were the guards? And servants working night shifts? We know the castle was fully staffed at this point, and unless the King and Queen sleep in their day clothes it probably wasn’t that late (maybe like, 11:30PM-1AM ish?), so people should still have been up. So what gives?

I like to think there are a couple options here. The first being that these two are fucking ninjas. When they aren’t giggling at each other’s antics, they are to be feared. Because one minute they might be in the ballroom, the next on the other side of the castle. And you’d never even know. The giggling is the only way you know where they are. And I personally really like this idea because it kinda calls back to the parts in the cut songs about them terrorizing their mean tutors and just getting into mischief. Like, Elsa might be able to be a good, calm, obedient little girl when she has to be, but don’t let that demeanour fool you: she’s the ring leader. And Anna’s perfectly following in her footsteps. So when these two get it in their heads that they’re going to do something - they’ll fucking do it. Just try to stop them. They’ve already snuck off back into the shadows where you’ll never find them.

The second option is also just as good: they both suck at being sneaky. Anna giggles her head off the whole time, and Elsa’s not much better. Anna’s really good at knocking over stuff, and Elsa will leave little hints of frost or snow around when she’s doing something she knows she shouldn’t be doing. But the castle staff know them, and know they’re just playing a game. So maybe the chef will leave a single, perfectly nose-shaped carrot on a stool in the kitchen so they don’t hurt themselves trying to climb the shelves in the store room. Or maybe there’ll be a few extra pieces of coal near the stove already bundled up in a cloth so they don’t get too dirty carrying them around. Or maybe even some twigs have been left on top of the woodpile nearby. And maybe the guards patrolling the grounds just pretend the infectious giggling coming from behind a suit of armour was merely the wind. Or Gerda will continue to walk past a set of curtains with two pairs of little feet poking out the bottom. Or maybe Kai will make sure to leave the ballroom unlocked.

Either way, both of these options also have sad connotations to them. The first option implies that after the accident, Elsa would have continued to use her sneaking around skills to make sure she didn’t make too much noise in her room. Maybe she still wandered around the castle at night or in the early morning but had to be sure to do so without drawing too much attention, for fear that Anna might be around looking to play. And Anna’s ability fell into disuse as she had no one to sneak around with, and she wanted to do anything to get her sister’s attention - hence, making noise.

And with the second option would come with guilt felt by all the members of the staff who had gotten complacent in allowing the princesses to play. Imagine how Kai must have felt if he had left the ballroom open for that evening and then everything had abruptly and devastatingly changed by morning? Anna nearly died, and Elsa had gone from a happy-go-lucky little kid to an emotionally traumatized heir who had her childhood cut incredibly short all thanks to one accident. Imagine the staff members who remained after that night vowing to never get that complacent again.

Wow, this went from a slightly amusing piece simply asking how two little kids managed to find sticks in a royal palace for building a snowman indoors to angst. Why does Frozen do this to me?

#i might make a part 2 to this btw #regarding olaf v.2 #because if that is coal that formed his eyes and buttons again #then arendelle could become a very wealthy nation from coal mining #if it's just sitting in its pure form underneath a layer of snow in the mountains #frozen analysis #headcanons

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amelia-yap · 3 years

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How did Ruby meet dragon Weiss? Was it similar to their meeting at Beacon?

i dunno. heres a thing.

I have always loved to explore, to have adventures -- simple as that. Wandering into the unknown, discovering new sights, walking on land that millions might already have, it was all exciting to me.

Whenever I got the chance to camp, I would immediately pack all the essentials I needed with vigor, no matter the weather. Staying still in one place for too long just didn’t sit well for me.

A gust of wind blew in my direction. The cold air stung my cheeks, so I pulled the red scarf I was wearing closer to my face, When I looked around, a blanket of snow was covering the ground and trees of all sizes. Everything seemed to be quiet. The only sound I could hear was my boots creaking in the snow.

The forest I was camping in appeared to be devoid of any wildlife, no foxes, no wolves nor bears I was used to seeing. I paid no mind and continued to explore and search for a suitable place to spend the night in. Which, not too long after, I spotted a cave within a good distance.

Happy I had shelter taken care of, I made my way towards the cave. The first thing that registered in my brain is that how the cave strongly it smelled of fresh pinecones. Crystals jutted out in random from every inch of the land, the ground coated with a thin layer of ice.

The cave itself wasn’t very large, but it seemed oddly well-preserved and clean, as if there was actually someone living in here-

“What do you think you’re doing?!” a voice cried out

A dragon.

Icy blue eyes narrowed at me, wings flared up in defiance.

A real, live dragon.

About 25 ft tall, standing right in front of me,

I blinked, unsure if I was hallucinating. It was not unheard of that dragon sightings could be found time to time, but to witness one with my very own eyes was wholly another question.

If winter could be personified, or in this case, dragonified? It would look like this. Brilliant pure white scales cascaded throughout its entire body like freshly fallen snow, horns in a shade of what painted the deep dark chilly nights, bright blue gemstones sprouted out of its back with the exception of a handful of rubies on its tail, illuminating a warm glow.

The most captivating sight however, was the scar streaking down its left eye.

The dragon in question scowled at my lack of response, “Leave. You’re not welcomed here.” Irritated, it started to walk away.

The soft thumping of the ground broke me out of my daze and I quickly burst into a jog in hopes of keeping up with the white dragon. Why were dragons so large? It wasn’t fair, humans were so tiny.

“So, um. My name is Ruby!” I yelled, in case it didn’t hear me or something, attempting to bring up conversation.

The dragon harrumphed, tail swishing like a disgruntled cat being forced to take a bath, clearly uninterested in what I had to say.

Besides being pretty, it had a big personality too.

___________________________________________________________

My right hand reached up to rub my neck, feet shuffling uneasily on the ground as I stood outside the cave. I couldn’t stop thinking about the dragon I met, albeit having made a less-than-stellar first impression breaking into her home.

In my defense, I didn't know there would be a dragon in there.

Against my better judgment, I returned after (an embarrassing) two hours, hoping I’d see White, preferably in a good mood now. There was something the dragon that interested me.

A cough caught my attention, and silver orbs met icy blue once again.

And like the first time, I was left speechless. She. She was now in her human form, a navy blue cloak draped over her shoulders with a dress and belt clipped on underneath.

“Are you going to come in, or die of hypothermia standing here?” the woman hissed, crossing her arms, “If you hadn’t noticed, the weather isn’t getting any better. I would rather not have a dead body in front of my doorstep.”

“Look,” the dragon lady finally grumbled, impatience bleeding out every corner of her voice,“I don’t understand why you’re back. Maybe you’re incapable of listening to instructions or just plain stupid, I don’t know.”

If looks could kill, the glare she’s sending to me right now is liable to destroy galaxies.

I tugged the hem of my sweater, smiling awkwardly like it would salvage the situation, “What’s your name?”

“I…” she hesitated, “I’m Weiss.”

“Awesome! You and I are going to be besties from now on, Weiss!”

“Y- What? No.” she deadpanned.

“I broke into your home.” I countered, grinning all the while, ” We’re practically like, best friends now.”

“Dunce, what kind of logic is that??”

My grin grew larger, “I dunno, it sounds like a legitimate reason to me.”

She scrunched up her nose, not willing to partake in my nonsense any longer, and flicked my forehead.

“Owie!” I yelped, hands shooting up to nurse the bruise,”Why’d you do that?!”

Weiss rolled her eyes, “Don’t be dramatic, Ruby. Now get in before you freeze out here for real.”

I immediately perked up at the mention of my name,”Aw, Weiss! You remembered my name!”

“I actually have a good memory. Unlike you, you dunce.”

Despite the barbs she dressed around her words, I caught her eyes twinkling with amusement.

And that was good enough.

#ruby rose #weiss schnee #whiterose #white rose #rwby #look i wrote this in one day so idk what im doing #this was actually for a story-based essay i had to write lmao #i don t know how to write fics even tho ive read a bunch of em hhhhhh #theres probably a bunch of grammar mistakes/weird sentence construction/weird pacing and flow/characters being ooc/weird wording of words #and other stuff #but bear with me lol #first person pov bc it's easier to translate #and yeah their meeting would probably be kaboom and stuff bc of dust but that be so weird if i submit that as hw lol #still can't decide if the crystals on weiss should be gems or dust #shrug #this is disastrous #writing is so hard jkhdgkjhgkdhgk #im thinking of picking up on writing again who knows #sorry if you read all that cringe but hope you enjoyed..?#if ye see anything weird feel free to correct me!#my brain and line of thoughts are scattered in pieces rn #to summarize all this bs:#ruby being the useless gay this time #the more i reread this the weirder this gets imma just pretend this post doesn't exist #also #weiss:#theres a weird pretty girl coming into my territory i want her out #oh is she lost or???ok fine get back in

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bubblyani · 3 years

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Mistletoe Scheme

(Bruce Wayne x Reader)

A Bruce Wayne/ Batman Christmas One Shot

Summary: Trapped in a Basement on Christmas Eve, an unexpected yet impactful conversation starts between Batman, and the civilian he was trying to rescue: You.

Word Count: 4.2k

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Mention of Blood.

Author’s Note: This idea came to me in an instant and never left my mind. Plus, this was a great chance to write more stuff for Bruce Wayne/Batman.I’m a sucker for dialogue. My last Bale Character fic for 2020. Started with Bruce, ending with Bruce heh. Can’t wait to treat you guys more next year. Enjoy y’all! And Merry Christmas!

Desperation. He held her tight with sheer desperation, for releasing was an option deemed non-viable. In fact, he did not wish to. He did not hope to. Not for anything.

If the end of days had dawned, he simply xwould not perceive. If danger lightly tapped him on the shoulder, he simply would disregard. Even if his head dared to crack open, he would simply let it do so. His hold on her was ironclad, and it was final.

Yet his hands, they were nowhere close to the famished, passionate nature as his lips. Those lips, that were willfully enslaved to hers, forming a strong bond that nature never dared to birth before. Sheer Desire certainly displayed its true colors tonight, and two souls were evidently responsible. Thus, he held her, in every manner possible. All in the desperate need to know her, to feel her. To make up for lost time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(An hour Earlier)

The snow fall outdoors seemed barely visible when the fluorescent light flickered with speed indoors. Even the infusion of Sleigh Bells and the joyous Seasonal Music blasting out of speakers all around the city, seemed barely audible. Certainly they all would be, when one was caught in the midst of nowhere.

The beeping of the timer was continuous, until it finally halted, resulting in a deafening blast.

BANG!

The door being the pitiful victim, broke open in an instant. However, instead of falling back down, the steel door remained at a 90 degree angle, revealing a thick layer of concrete standing right behind it. The Impact Mine was simply useless, leaving Batman full of regrets.

Upon the faith of his instincts, he pasted another explosive device on the broken door. And off went the continuous beeps. BANG! One more blast. Yet, all that awaited him was pure disappointment, when the door remained unmoved.

Running out of resources in his Utility Belt, it was evident he was forced to throw in the towel. He had to look upon the truthful face of bitter reality; Trapped in an underground Basement on the outskirts of Gotham city. With no way out. Not yet, at least. With a heavy sigh, frustration had caught up with the Dark Knight, and with a strange headache making its sudden appearance, he brimmed with the urge to curse out loud.

“DAMN IT!!”

Which she managed to do on his behalf.

Turning around slow, Batman watched the woman pace from one corner of the room to the other, her heels clicking out loud. And right then, he was reminded. How he was truly not trapped here alone.

“The signal’s no good…” she said, with the phone held against her ear, “...can’t get a hold of anyone...”

Batman nodded, “Wait here…” he replied in a hoarse tone, before making his away to the other corner of the basement. With the light brush of his fingers against ears of his cowl, a dial tone echoed within his mask. A call was made. The dial tone stopped as the caller finally answered.

“Alfred?” Batman began.

“Master Wayne-” The voice of Alfred Pennyworth reached his inner headset, “ I-trouble-hearing-”

Loud static noise attacked the line with confidence. And Batman began to grow restless. The headache grew even stronger.

“Alfred!” Batman growled, “Can you track my coordinates? Alfred?”

“-Sorr-Please wai-”

With one final static to spare, Alfred’s voice disappeared, leaving nothing but a pin drop silence in the room. The flickering of the lights paused, growing slightly dim in the process. Unwilling to display his own failure, the caped crusader inhaled deep.

“I’m afraid…we’re stuck indefinitely. But don’t worry…” He grunted, his eyes lingering on the empty wall, “We’re gonna make it out here alive”

However, the woman did not respond. Eyebrows furrowing underneath his cowl seemed inevitable for Batman. Would he possibly face eventual panic from her? A meltdown perhaps? He dreaded turning back.

Instead, he heard a soft chuckle.

“Well, bet you never had to go through this before, huh?”

He spun around upon her light hearted reply, and her seemingly friendly demeanor. His eyebrows furrowed once more.

She certainly was unexpected.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Never in this life did her lips taste passion at such degree. However, then again, never in this life did her lips meet his own until then. Was pure frustration to blame? Was it the fuel that strengthened this flame? Or could this encounter be worthy of the term “Fateful”? “Destined” ?

She indulged it, the manner in which his lips enveloped in with hers. She was simply the hand, finally uniting with him, who simply was the glove with the perfect fit.

With her fingers lingering in his hair with the utmost care, her other hand clung onto his strong neck. She pulled him close, until any distance between them proved non existent. For the first time, she was certain of what she longed for. More importantly, who she longed for.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(Half and hour earlier)

Any man, woman or child that managed to encounter Batman, let alone catch the mere sight of the man, would certainly be aware of a few special traits: His swiftness, paired up with his sense of utmost mystery. The traits that shield him when his arrival was far from expected, and his exit practically invisible. Camouflaged into the darkness of the night.

However, the mere concept of getting trapped in a confined space with him, was simply mind boggling. Even for you. Therefore, your query did not appear to be a ludicrous one. Was it not?

“Well, bet you never had to go through this before, huh?”

“You’d be surprised”

Batman responded, which threw you off guard.

“Oh! really?” You blurted, cheeks flushing, “I-I-”

“But yes…” he said, “…not like this…” He added, scanning the premises for possible clues. A sigh of relief left your lips. Rubbing your forearm, you felt yourself sinking down to the dusty floor. You could not help but trace a hint of awkwardness in the air. At least in your part. You may know of Batman, but you certainly did not have the privilege of knowing him. Thus, there you both were: Two strangers trapped together.

“Guess...” you began soft, “...there’s nothing to do but-WAIT!!!”

Your cry managed to send tremors through the room. Enough for the caped crusader to spin around and freeze.

“Batman…” you breathed, wide eyed, “Are-Are you bleeding?” Perplex was evident when Batman’s lips pursed. But the moment a thin line of red trickled down through his cowl towards his lips, he finally believed your query. And it frightened you.

“I …uh..” He struggled, rubbing it off with his gloved hand. “Did you...get injured?” You inquired with concern. “No…” Taking his hand away, he dismissed quick, “...it’s nothing” “What?” Your eyes widened, ”That’s even crazier!” You exclaimed, stumbling as you rose up with your heels, “ We gotta get that checked” “No, its fine…” “No, its not…” Your instant yet commanding response was surprising, even for yourself, “Your head might be injured, so we need to-” You paused, “ Oh!” A few seconds passed, while bitter realization coursed through your veins, “…but that...that would mean-” Batman nodded, “…taking the cowl off, yes” “Crap…”

You muttered with a sigh.With your hands resting on your waist, you were nothing but remorseful. What you requested from the Dark Knight seemed far worse than the most dire physical challenge. Simply worse than leaping into a pit of fire, or diving into the oceans deep. Compromising his identity, it was a Cardinal Rule that must not be broken.

However, your concern seemed to have overpowered it all. Obstinate, you were not intending to bow down so easy. But why? Could it be perhaps, in your eyes he was the Guardian that Gotham needed? Could it be perhaps, he was a man you always had admired? And could it possibly be that you did not hope for him to die unexpected, all in the sole attempt of rescuing you?

“Okay, how about this?”

You began, “How about you turn around, and take your cowl off-Just hear me out!” You pleaded when he attempted to interject, “If...the wound is in the BACK of your head, let ME clean it up. If not…YOU do it. Seems fair, right?”

Batman stared at you with a blank expression. You assumed his silence for the worst. “No wound or cut should be left untreated. Not even yours” the insistence in your tone was shocking. What had changed you, it simply was difficult to comprehend.

Batman remained quiet. You suddenly were regretful. Certainly you were blinded with obstinacy, and did not know your place.

“Fine…” A grunt left Batman’s lips, leaving you wide eyed and relieved. His cape swished with grace as he turned away from you to sit, “You a doctor?”

“Oh no!” You let out a nervous chuckle, “…my friend is…” you added, kneeling behind, watching him remove his mask, “I’m actually in Publishing… I’m a Literary Publicist. But…that does NOT mean I can’t be a Good Samaritan right- Ah! See?” You cried out, “It IS in the back of your-Oh my!”

Silence shushed you with judgement. And you did not care, especially when blood bubbled out slow from what appeared to be a cut already stitched in the back of his head, full of luscious, brunette locks.

A firm punch landed in your heart. For you could not help but wonder: How far must his body go, in order to save this godforsaken city?

“Everything alright?”

His query woke you from your thoughts. Without the mask on, slight clarity was present in his voice, yet the gruff remained. As he was on a futile attempt to mask his sound. You cleared your throat: “Yeah…Anyways, Let me…” you muttered, pulling the silk scarf that left your neck in a smooth motion. Though your neck immediately shivered upon meeting the chilly air, it did not seem as important as this. Folding it to the thickest layer, you placed the scarf over the wound with care.

The howling wind outside reached your ears with clarity as the silence seeped in the Basement once more. A Christmas Carol involuntarily landed on your lips as you began to hum it. “Angels We Have Heard on High”, to be quite specific. Why that exactly? You simply did not know. And given the silence shown by the other party, it seemed Batman did not mind your humming.

The longer you stared, the stronger your fascination grew for his hair. For there it was, Batman’s actual hair. And you were just a mere turn away from his real identity. Was it idiotic to be starstruck by that fact? Fascination merged with curiosity when you wondered of his face. Could it be possible he was actually handsome? With those beautiful lips he bore, you were not mad to assume as such.

You shook your head all the sudden with an embarrassed smile. For ethics grabbed your superficiality by the ear with disappointment. How dare you even objectify him as such? He is a hero, not Mr. Handsome. And more importantly, why must you think so fondly of his lips?

“If you don’t mind me asking…” you began, attempting to change thoughts, “What the hell happened tonight, Batman?” You inquired, “And who…the hell…was that guy?”

“Dino Maroni…” Batman answered, his voice raised a bit higher than before. Your eyebrows furrowed. “Maroni?” You repeated, “Like…‘Sal Maroni’ Maroni? The Mob boss?” “Dino is his distant nephew…” he explained, “…estranged, from what we’re guessing. Could be that he is trying to earn a place back in the Family” “Huh…” confusion was rife in you. “…He tried to kill Harvey Dent tonight” “HE WHAT?” “Ow!” “Sorry….” You whispered, when you realized your passionate response forced you to press on his wound hard, “….So, that’s why you were on his tail…” you understood, “Until he met me-…” “-kidnapped you, more like…”

Batman was right. Tonight was filled with unexpected events. You knew fully well when you accidentally bumped into a man who seemed to be running across the street. The sight of the passerby’s panic, confused you at first. But when the sweating man grabbed you by the shoulder and placed a pistol on your right temple, the panic seemed justified. The image of Dino spitting out threats to end you, especially at Batman, remained clear as day. No one dared to intervene, which gave him the leverage to flee, with you as hostage. Batman certainly did not take long to find you. Except he met with the unfortunate fate of being trapped alongside you when Dino and his men sealed the door.

“I know Harvey Dent is not exactly ....Mother Teresa to Organized Crime in Gotham, but...” you paused, only to present an annoyed expression, “...on Christmas Eve? Seriously? When will those jerks give YOU A BREAK?”

A hearty laugh leaped out of Batman, surprising you. Amused, you laughed along. “Good point” He replied in mid laugh, hand reaching back to take hold of the scarf instead. The gruff in his voice had vanished, leaving his laughter to ring in your ears with pleasure.

Your own laughter faded as you leaned against the concrete pillar behind you. It was a wonderful surprise indeed. And with that, the luxurious desire for know more about him was birthed. Given the number of times excitement sparked in you the form of mini fireworks, it was evident your fascination for him had grown. More importantly, your attraction.

“I’m guessing you had plans...” he began. You tilted your head with wide eyes. “...before they eventually got ruined by Dino?” He finished, his voice heavy on smoothness all the sudden. Looking down at yourself, you chuckled. “Yeah…Office..Christmas...Party” you enunciated with dramatic energy, your hand smoothing the material of your grey belted robe coat. The robe coat that concealed the beautiful navy blue velvet cocktail dress you wore underneath it, along with pantyhose and heels, “Normally I never show up. But, tonight was supposed to be …” you paused, “...special”

“Hmmm?”

Chuckling again at his inquisitive hum, your eyes remained on your coat, “It’s silly…” you said with embarrassment , “I…I rather not talk about it”

“Hmmm…”

With a hum of acknowledgement, he maintained his silence. You smiled, looking at the back of his head. You sensed consideration in him, you sensed safety in him. But simultaneously, you sensed fear, in you. Fear that this would be the end of a possibly entertaining conversation. Your heart was proof, pacing quick, tapping you on the shoulder with impatience.

“Actually-” you began in softness.

“So you DO rather talk about it…” He amused, voice now almost of a velvet quality, and simply irresistible.

“Guess you ARE good at…making people talk…” you smirked, laughter erupting from you both.

“But anyways…” you added mid-laugh, “…there’s this guy…I’ve had my eye on…” you said, looking up. Batman’s laughter vanished right then.

“I mean…” you paused, with a sigh, “…he seems nice and all…I don’t know” shrugging, you continued, “I kinda thought maybe tonight I’d…I don't know…” you shrugged once again, “…make a move? Let him know I…like him? ” The second those words left your lips, a sourness remained.

“How long have you known him?”

“I don't know…6 months?” You answered so casually, “I’d see him in meetings, always around our colleagues, we never met in private…I don’t know…he’s fine” you stated, “ Seems like the proper guy, ya know?”

“So, what?” Batman teased, “You’re gonna meet him by the punch bowl, and tell him how you feel?”

“What do you think this is? Senior prom?” You giggled, where you heard him snigger in return, “And I believe there WILL be a Punch Fountain…A Champagne Fountain actually-Anyways” you said, before you lost your train of thought, “NO!…my plan actually had more CLASS than that, just so you know…” you added with pride, crossing your arms, “There’s this lovely balcony on that floor and…” your voice growing soft, “I’m pretty sure there’s gonna be a Mistletoe there”

“Are you su-”

“I AM sure! ” You interrupted him, laughter following suite. Joy was quite evident in your tone, “So hopefully, if everything goes right, I’d have him find me there, I don’t know…” you smirked, “…maybe accidentally trip, let him catch me and Voila!…that will be the moment…where our eyes would meet…and then our lips…leading up to the most…gentle first kiss ever…”

You finished with a sigh, your heart evidently immersed in the depths and the beauty of your own haven, your very own fairytale.

“Wow…heh” Batman’s voice shook you awake, “Your planning is really making the criminals look bad…” he remarked, with added laughter. To which you smiled.

“NOW I know you’re teasing…” you replied with a mischievous smile, “ I mean, come on! I could NEVER plan THIS…” looking around the chilly basement, your tone brimmed with sarcasm. Especially when you realized how you jested about the horrid disposition you both were facing.

“Well, you know…maybe with a little hard work…”

 “Oh, don’t you dare, mister!” You guffawed, “Besides, I really wouldn’t wanna see your bad side if I did”

With the laugher dying down once again, you both took in deep breaths. It certainly felt lovely.

“You really thought this through, huh?” Batman inquired with earnest. Shrugging, your eyes continued to familiarize with his hair :

“I guess…” you said, rubbing your shoulders all of the sudden, “Maybe if we’re lucky and we get out of here on time, I’ll still have a chance, But… I don’t know…”  To your disappointment, silence took centerstage once again with a smug look, ready to begin its haughty performance. Until Batman cleared his throat:

“ I know I’m a guy you just met but…” He began, “…should you even go through with it?” His query, forced your eyebrows to rise in unison. Once more, that beating of your heart began to quicken.

“What makes you say that?” You inquired, to which he shrugged his own broad and strong shoulders.  “Well, you said ‘I don't know’ 5 times already, and you barely told me anything about him”

With your mouth agape, You froze. Waves of realization crashed against the sand of your conscious. Did it take Batman, the greatest detective to deduce your hidden doubt? And did he, by any chance, rescue you from a possible regret?

“Touché” You nodded in slow motion, a few seconds later. “Wow…” You chuckled, “..I was actually gonna go through with it, with just one foot in the water, huh? Damn!” Shaking your head, you exhaled with great depth. Along with your exhalation, there exited your blindness.

“To be honest, I don’t even know if I like him. I just…” Pausing, your hands clasped together, “ I was in love with the concept OF HIM” you said, grateful of how the truth had revealed itself to you, “But at the same time…Did I just miss my only chance? To finding someone?” You inquired, heart suddenly growing heavy. Countless nights of your fervent prayer for someone to love you, flashed before your eyes, causing you to feel sheer pity, “ I mean…” your chuckle grew sad, “I’m not getting any younger…And this job ain’t easy…oh!-I’m sorry” you said, involuntary sniffing as your nose grew itchy, “I’m blabbering here…”

“No need to apologize…” A soft, and empathizing reply exited Batman, “It’s not like I can’t relate to that”

With shining eyes, you beamed at the back of his head. It did not take long for a rush of warmth to embrace your soul. The number of times you laughed at comfort, with the help of this man for a few minutes, were simply more than what you would experience within 24 hours.  “I hope he wasn’t as understanding as you…” You said, "Cause if he was, then I missed a great guy”

“On the contrary, I think HE was the one who missed big tonight…” Batman replied, his velvet voice never failing to comfort you. His kindness was brimming, yet you did not mind being soaked by it.

“Thank you-Oh!…has it stopped?” Your eyes widened, the moment he took the scarf away from the head. He nodded. Excitement danced within you as you crawled towards him.

“Great, now we can finally clean this up…” Enthusiasm was rife, while you stood on your knees,“Ugh! I wish we had some saline-”

“No, really it’s alright”

The stitches have finally dried out, even faster thanks to the cold. The need to pat him on the head, or even run your fingers through his locks grew strong. However, that need retracted itself a few seconds later. You shook your head. What on earth was going on with you?

“I do have a bandaid though…” you stated with confidence, bending to your left to reach out for your purse, “…its in here somewhere-Oh Oh no..Agh!”

The unfortunate loss of balance, forced you to gravitate to your left, falling in the process with speed. You were certain your heart would fall out of your chest. But to your relief, your face nor your heart did not meet its fate with the cemented ground. Instead, you were caught by Batman himself. Right before him. Revealing his face.

His face. Your eyes widened. His face.

With a quick gasp, you closed your eyes shut with immediate fear within a split second.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” you whimpered. However, to your surprise, you heard him chuckle.

“Don’t apologize…” he assured, as his voice grew softer. Unlike his powerful demeanor, the man behind the mask seemed gentler than expected, persuading you to open your eyes with care. And once you finally did, your eyes indulged the sight before you. The face that simply stared at you.

Around your age, he was blessed with handsome features, that left you breathless. With the black paint that surrounded his eyes, it was a daunting task to trace the beautiful hazel green eyes he possessed.

“I won’t tell a soul…I swear” you found yourself whispering with sincerity. To which he nodded:

“I know…” he breathed.

The manner in which those eyes sparkled, his concern for his identity had vanished. And at last, all seemed clear to you. Bravery kept you calm, as you took one of his hands, placing it over your chest. All that, in order to confirm your suspicions. To confirm that the lightning speed of your beating heart was no hallucination. The stomach acting up with tickles, your overwhelming concern, your indiscriminate joy, amidst the danger. It was evident that Magic had stumbled into you. Finally. That very moment you had dreamed of.

Moving from your heaving chest, Batman’s hand proceeded to cup your face instead. Your breath could not help but hitch. And his touch was to blame, even with the presence of his gloves.

“That Mistletoe Scheme of yours…” He began in a low voice,“…You really upset that it got sabotaged tonight?”

“Honestly…” you paused, “…now that I think of it…it wasn’t that great. So…”

“Good”

Low but pleased, his response brimmed with the power to push you towards insanity. And it engulfed you whole, the moment he leaned forward, and kissed you.

No Christmas gift would ever succeed in providing the magic as his kiss did. If your body was akin to a Christmas tree, then his kiss was simply the electric switch, setting all bulbs alit. Those delicious lips were generous, offering you all that you longed for: Gentle. It simply was the word, with his lips pressed against yours with the softness of actual feathers, awakening every inch of stimulus in your system to life. Gentle was what he promised, as your lips and his, both embarking on their own pilgrimage, to heal one another. And to spark the magic you both had missed for simply too long in life.

Pulling away, your foreheads rested on one another, releasing one long, shaky breath. And all the sudden, his face began to grow very familiar in your eyes. However, you could not place his name. Who was he?

“Bruce Wayne…” he breathed, answering your silent query, “Nice to meet you”

With a dropped jaw, you uttered your own name in reply. This was certainly unexpected. However in all honesty, it did not matter either. Especially when his sheer humanity, and his lips won your heart over already.

Loud, static noise reemerged from his removed mask, causing both of you to jump. The voice of an elderly man followed soon after:

“Sir! Master Wayne!” He said, “I finally received your coordinates! Are you alright? We’re on our way”

Relieved beyond all measure, you both shared sighs and huge smiles.

“Merry Christmas! Bruce” you wished.

“Merry Christmas!”

With his shining eyes, Bruce swooped you in for a kiss once more. Infused with gusto, Impatience had replaced Calm, while Passion had replaced Gentle. Yet, you did not mind. Not at all. Especially when you shared his sentiments to the very core.

Trapped you may have been underground, smothered with the cold. And even so, no form of anger lingered in you towards Dino Maroni. Not any longer. For once in your life, you were ecstatic for a plan to have failed miserably. For this may have been Fate’s real plan after all.

——————————————————

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#christian bale #batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #batman begins #the dark knight #the dark knight rises #TDK #td kelly #christmas one shot #dc #batfam

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engagemachine · 3 years

Note

How would J react if Taylor swore infront/at him?

May 22nd: New update

Anon, I’ve been thinking about this ask for daaaaays. Had to write a fic. This is just part one (turned out a lot longer than I thought it would be--wrote it in one sitting) and I’ll post part two as soon as it’s done!

FYI: This takes place early on in Burn, probably sometime around chapter two, so Taylor is back in high school.

---

It’s still snowing outside when Taylor slides into her seat for third period English. She loves the overlarge windows in here, stretching along almost the entire wall of the left-hand side of the classroom. Black windowpanes showcase the little fountain in the courtyard, the stone benches seated around it, and the long, winding sidewalk where each senior from the class of 2002 got to lay down a single handprint in the cement to commemorate their pending graduation. Taylor thinks she would’ve liked that, to immortalize a piece of herself in that way, inscribing her name inside her handprint. Taylor B. It intrigued her, the thought of someone walking over her handprint years later, wondering who Taylor B was, what she was like, where she was now.

The fountain is frozen over, and the courtyard is blanketed in a thick layer of snow, still untouched. She wonders what it says about her that she often fantasizes about being the first one to run out and ruin it, leave her footprints behind, crunch through snow that is knee-deep, that no one else has sullied yet. There’s something about being the first person to disrupt the beauty of nature. Like stepping on a fallen dead leaf, the satisfaction of hearing it crackle beneath your feet. Or jumping into a still lake, watching the ripples that fan out across the water as you break through to the surface. Like leaving footprints in the sand at the beach, only to have them rinsed away by the incoming tide moments later. It’s a temporary disruption—and perhaps that’s the appeal.

Taylor settles into her seat and takes out her books. The classroom is unusually bright, the sky outside milky and pale as the snow piles up, falling softly in great big clumps. Mrs. Herndan leaves the lights off because they don’t need them.

Everyone is a little more animated than usual. If it keeps snowing like this, they might call it a half day and get to go home early. Taylor hopes that happens, that way she can order take-out and hang out with Mr. J. Maybe they can watch a movie together—something scary, so she has an excuse to cuddle up next to him, if he’ll let her. She’s been testing the boundaries of affection he’s willing to allow her to bestow, and recently she’s been surprised by how much she’s been able to get away with. Just last week she fell asleep next to him on the couch with her head on his shoulder—totally by accident—and he didn’t even move her. Just let her sleep there like that until she woke up, his hand heavy on her thigh, right above her knee, at which point she jumped up, all groggy and still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She swore up and down that she was sorry, she’d never do it again. She was so afraid he’d be mad, but he just looked at her kind of funny, like he was trying not to laugh, and she blushed furiously and hurried off to her room.

Class is kind of boring, and it’s hard to focus when everyone seems just as distracted as she is. Mrs. Herndan has to stop her lesson twice just to tell everyone to be quiet and put their phones away. Taylor is snapped to attention each time she does. She didn’t even realize she had been staring at the window.

When the bell rings, Mrs. Herndan shouts out their homework assignment for the weekend, but it’s mostly lost to the din of jostling bodies and excited chatter of weekend plans as everyone fights to get through the door at once. Whatever. She’ll just have check the syllabus when she gets home. They’re reading Romeo and Juliet and it’s really hard to understand. Maybe she can find a way to rent a movie of it from the library—there’s supposed to be a version with Leonardo DiCaprio, she thinks. Maybe that’ll help. Sometimes she wants to ask Mr. J for help—and in the past she has, like when she had to make that volcano for science class, and he knew exactly what to do—but Romeo and Juliet is way too embarrassing. All those thees and thous, the declarations of love. Like she could ever ask Mr. J to interpret that for her, not without dying from embarrassment first.

She gets twenty minutes into her next class before they finally call it on the overhead speakers—school is closed. She smiles to herself as she packs up her books, already imagining herself curled up on the couch with her sketchbook and a cup of hot cocoa. She should still have some marshmallows left over—as long as Mr. J hasn’t eaten them all. He’s always eating her snacks. Sometimes, in a moment of pure frustration upon stumbling onto an empty bag or box of secret snacks she had stashed away specifically for herself, she tells him to buy his own snacks, but he always counters with, I did buy these, giving her a pointed look, and, yeah, he kinda did. It’s his money, after all. Not like she could buy any of this stuff without him.

She’s pulling the rest of her books from her locker and shoving them into her backpack when she feels a tap on her shoulder from behind. She turns around to face Jennifer Bartlett—from her geometry class—who is holds out a pink envelope decked in glitter and little metallic hearts.

“You’re inviiiiited,” she sings, thrusting the card into Taylor’s hands. Taylor blinks at her.

“Me?” she asks. Clearly this is some kind of mistake. Maybe a joke.

“It’s a sleepover, so bring a sleeping bag, okay? And like, don’t tell your mom or whatever, but my parents won’t be there, so make sure you just get dropped off in the driveway and none of your parents try to come inside.”

“Oh,” she says, her mind still swirling from the invite. A sleepover. “Okay.” She forces her gaping mouth shut, quickly nods, tries not to look too overeager. “Okay,” she says again, a little cooler, smiling a little. “I’ll totally be there.”

“Great!”

Jennifer bounds off down the hallway, joining a group of giggling girls waiting for her at the end, and Taylor looks down at the envelope in her hand, her name on it and everything. Taylor B.

She bites her lip and smiles.

Taylor can’t get home fast enough.

The bus takes forever, and they have to divert into South Side because of an accident near Paramount Park.

When she finally hops off the school bus and bounds for home, perhaps she takes off a little faster than she should. One moment her backpack is bouncing behind her as she races down the sidewalk, and the next, she’s spread-eagled and lying flat on her back, staring up at the gray sky as snow drifts down in soft little clumps around her. Oof. That hurt. She didn’t hit her head—thankfully—but she managed to scrape her cheek on the icy pile of snow packed into a miniature wall along the edges of the sidewalk. She thinks her cheek might be bleeding.

She doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing: the fact that she fell, or that the bus driver didn’t stop to help.

She winces as she gets up, wipes the blood from her cheek, brushes the ice and snow from her hands, wipes her palms on her jeans. The bus hisses as it pulls away, and Taylor’s cheeks burn. Maybe no one saw?

Her right leg kind of hurts, and she hobbles the rest of the way home, her excitement not dampened as she crashes through the front door, making it halfway through the kitchen before she remembers to shimmy out of her wet boots. Her socks are wet—there was a lot of slush on the sidewalks the closer she got to home—and her feet leave little wet prints on the kitchen floor before she gets to the carpet.

“Mr. J!”

He’s not in the living room, and he’s not in his bedroom, either, when she throws open the door and scans the bed, his empty desk. She frowns, pokes her head around the doorframe to her own bedroom. Not there, either.

“Mr. J?” She goes back to the beginning of the hallway, knocks eagerly on the closed bathroom door. She can see yellow light bleeding out from the crack beneath the door, doesn’t know how she missed that before. “Mr. J, you’ll never guess what happened at school today!” She waits a beat for him to say something—a grunt, even, some form of acknowledgement that he hears her, she’d take anything—but when she’s met with silence, she barrels on. “I got invited to a slumber party!” she gushes. She has both palms pressed flat against the door, is bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I ran all the way home to tell you, I can’t believe it!” she squeals. “It’s this Friday so we have to go to the store A-S-A-P so I can get a sleeping bag, okay? I mean—if it’s okay with you that I can go. But I’m sure it will be because I really want to go and I’ve never been to a sleepover before.” She sighs, taking a breath. He still hasn’t said anything, so she turns her back to the door and leans against it. He has to come out eventually. “And you won’t even have to worry about dropping me off because I can just take the bus, okay? I looked up Jennifer’s address at the library at school and I already wrote down how to get there, so I won’t get lost! Oh, and maybe I should get new PJs, too? And do you think that—”

The door is jerked open so suddenly she doesn’t have time to react, and she’s falling backwards before she can catch herself, straight into Mr. J’s chest.

He’s holding her underneath her arms, and she tilts her head back to look up at him—upside down—as he looks down at her. His greasepaint’s bright. Fresh-applied. She can smell its gummy texture.

She smiles up at him, a little unsure. A little frightened. His eyes are so dark. “Jeeze,” she says, lightly, trying to dissolve the tension. “You have to give me a warning, Mr. J.” She tries to laugh a little, but it comes out stilted, and the look he pins her with makes the smile slip right off her face.

“Maybe I would if I could get a word in,” he replies. He gets his arms behind her and pushes her off him. Taylor’s cheeks burn as she stumbles a few feet into the kitchen. She knows she talks a lot when she’s excited. She’s like a faucet that won’t turn off.

“Sorry,” she murmurs. She keeps her head low, a little afraid to meet his eyes. He’s in a bad mood—but she’s determined to go to this party either way, and she won’t stop prodding until he says yes. She glances up for just a second to catch the narrowing of his eyes, and then his hand is reaching out, closing around her jaw in a way that makes her flinch, pulling her towards him.

“What’s this?” he says. His eyes on her skin burn, and it makes the cut on her cheek throb in memory.

“It’s nothing,” she says, annoyed, maybe a little embarrassed. She doesn’t want to have to tell him that she slipped and fell. Also, can they please get back to talking about her slumber party? She impatiently reaches up and pries his hand off her—he lets her. She ventures a few steps back, watching him, and her back hits the counter with a thud. “But about the party—it’s okay if I go, right?”

He ignores her question in favor of taking a few lumbering steps closer—towering over her—and his fingers around her jaw are much softer this time when he takes it in his hand, tilts her head to the side so the cut on her cheek winks at him in the light that streaks out from the bathroom.

He sounds almost curious when he asks, “Did someone hit you?”

His question feels like a gut-punch. She looks up at him, eyes widening in surprise for a moment, and then her gaze narrows, and she’s a little more forceful this time when she pries his hand off her jaw.

“No,” she snaps. She can’t believe he thinks she got bullied. “I’m not a loser. I know how to fight back if I have to,” she scowls.

He looks at her for a long moment, his eyes hard and calculating, but she makes a point to meet his stare head on. She’s not going to flinch away. After a beat, he grins a little—some secret smile, like he’s in on some joke she’s not privy to.

“Of course you do,” he says.

“So can I go to the slumber party or not?”

Mr. J raises his eyebrows as he thinks about it. “Dunno,” he says, “I seem to recall your last little, uh, party, didn’t end so hot. Maybe you remember,” he muses, leaning down low, so their faces are level, “—or maybe you don’t, since you were high as a fucking kite.”

Taylor balks at him—he never curses, at least not around her—and she can’t help the way her mouth parts in shock. She can feel the threads of hope she’d been clinging to rapidly slipping out of her hands.

Truthfully, there’s not a lot she remembers from that night. Just a bonfire and a stranger’s half-remembered bedroom. The weight of a body she hadn’t wanted, a frisson of fear, electric as it sizzled down her spine, and then fumbling down the stairs, out the front door. Nobody had even cared. And then the frigid moon, the icy bite of wind on her cheeks. She remembers Mr. J, at some point, and waking up in that old airplane hangar, where she’d promptly puked her guts out over the side of the couch. The rest of that night is a blur. It’s probably better that way.

“It’s not—” she stops. Tries to find her footing around the right set of words. She just wants this so badly. It’s her one opportunity to fit in. To make friends. To be somebody. She wants so desperately to try and explain it to him, make him understand how badly she needs this—but somehow she knows he won’t get it. He doesn’t care about fitting in, or being liked—he’s the most unliked person in all of Gotham. Maybe even the whole world.

“It won’t be like that this time,” she assures. “There won’t be any boys there. I promise. It’s just a girl party. And I promise I’ll be really, really good and come straight home after.”

Mr. J’s eyes are dark as he watches her plead her case, and she takes the opportunity to stick out her bottom lip and put on an exaggerated pout. “Pretty please?” she says. “With lots of sugar on top?”

The corner of his mouth curls into a grin. “Okay, baby doll. Since you asked so nicely.”

“Eeep!” She squeals in excitement, immediately perking up, diving forward to throw her arms around his waist. She gives him a squeeze and he surprises her by patting her back. Once. Twice. His display of affection makes her cheeks warm, and she squeezes him a little tighter, happy to bask in the moment. “Thank you, Mr. J.”

Taylor buys a new set of jammies and a sleeping bag. She even spends the whole day prior reading about sleepovers, Googling at the library, getting more and more excited. She wonders if they’ll do face masks, or have a pillow fight, or watch a romantic movie, or paint each other’s nails?

She goes to Mr. J to model her new PJs for him, a yellow top with tiny blue flowers, with little matching shorts and a scalloped hem. She is bouncing around his bedroom—she had a Red Bull earlier for the first time ever, and whoa—and she does a cartwheel on the bed once she has his attention, collapsing into a heap on the floor because she misjudged the distance. She giggles, and then uses the bed to pull herself up while she prances around the room and chatters about her slumber party. She has a little notepad she found in a drawer in the kitchen, and after a few minutes, she flops back on his bed, holding the notepad above her face. She’s making a list of all the stuff she might need to bring. She read online that sometimes you should bring snacks.

“Hey Mr. J, cookies or chips?” she asks.

She turns to lay on her side, facing him, where he’s seated in his desk chair and has spun around to watch her, his fingers drumming against the armrests. His eyes are dark—but he doesn’t give her an answer.

She scowls at his lack of participation, and redirects her attention back to her list, tapping her pencil against her lips.

“Hmm… sometimes cookies have peanut butter, even if they say don’t, and I know lots of people have peanut allergies, sooooo… I’ll go with chips,” she decides, resolute. Her tongue pokes out when she makes a careful, neat checkmark next to the word chips.

She crawls off the bed and skips around the room for a little while longer, clutching her notepad, chattering to herself, mostly. She plays with the books on the bookshelf, all the little knickknacks left behind by the previous owner, rearranging them while she talks, musing about how cool this party’s gonna be, how many friends she’s gonna make. It’s gonna be great.

She lays down on the floor to make some snow-angels on the carpet, flapping her arms and legs slowly, staring up at the ceiling, feeling her energy start to wane. She asks Mr. J if he thinks she should wear her regular clothes to the party, or if she should come dressed in her PJs? And doesn’t he think they’re really pretty? And her sleeping bag comes with a built-in pillow, and isn’t that super cool?

She jolts awake when a pair of arms slip underneath her, hoisting her up, off the floor. She must have fallen asleep.

She frantically blinks the sleep back from her eyes. It’s dark, and she can’t see. “What day is it?” she asks, panicked, her voice cracking. “Is it tomorrow yet? Did I miss the party?”

“Shhh.” Mr. J carries her the short distance to his bed, lowers her to the mattress even as she wraps her arms around his neck, refusing to be put down. She doesn’t even have the forethought to marvel over the fact that he’s just put her in his bed, that she’s lying down on his pillow, or that the covers smell like him.

“But did I miss it? Is it over?”

She thinks she can hear a smirk in his voice when he says, “No, baby doll, you didn’t miss it. Time to sleep.”

He peels her arms away from his neck, and this time she lets him. She sinks into the mattress, and sinks quickly back into sleep.

#anonymous #asks #Burn #Taylor #new update #it's not finished yet but I just wanted to update with what I have to so far :)

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grimelords · 5 years

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Hello I finished my July playlist a week ago but when I went to post it tumblr was down, and then I just plumb forgot! Anyway, here it is - properly sequenced this time for a very special listening experience that seamlessly delivers you from disco heaven to black metal hell and everything in between. Also I’m thinking of making these playlists a tinyletter that people can subscribe to that comes out on an actual schedule, rather than me posting them at a random time weeks after they’re finished. Is that something you’d be interested in? Who knows. Check back next month! Anyway, here goes:

listen here

Stay Away From Me - The Sylvers: You know when you’re listening to a song and the sample is super hot but the rest is just ok, so you think to yourself well why don’t I just listen to the original instead? That’s what happened to me with Final Form by Sampa The Great. That song is good but it’s also kind of not doing enough to convince me not to just listen to this super hit by The Sylvers instead. A fun thing with this song is to try to count how many instruments you can hear because it is surprisingly densely arranged for some reason. There’s a xylophone back there going off if you listen.

Sizzlin’ Hot - Paradise: The same thing happened with this song and Sizzlin’ by Daphni. I think they were going for an Armand Van Helden style distillation of the pure essence of the song, sampling the hookiest part and speeding it up and thickening up all the percussion and all that, which can work amazingly but for me it just made me want to hear the original and so I have been all month. What’s so good about being alive now is that in most cases it’s just as easy to access music from 2019 as it is to access music from 1981 where an original copy is apparently going for $1000 on discogs. Every day I thank god for inventing mp3s and putting them on the ark.

Manaos (Canzone) - Fabio Frizzi and Crossbow: I forget how I came across this, I was going through random Fabio Frizzi soundtracks for some reason. I just love the concept of a disco song about escaping from vicious assailants. Funkily singing ‘God help us, if they catch us we all are gonna die.’ as spears fly past you.

Holding On - Julio Bashmore: I think this is one of my favourite pieces of sampling ever. The way the vocals in the background are cut they don’t even sound like vocals. They just a strange contextless textural sound that works so well before eventually revealing itself as vocals in the run before the drop. It’s just so good.

Weight Watchers - Parallel Dance Ensemble: First of all I love this disgusting bass sound. It sounds like two different indistinct bass lines playing at the same time and they both drowned. I’m also mounting a change.org petition to bring back this kind of extremely naff Tone Loc flow, it rocks.

Dance - ESG: I found this incredible band while I was looking for the rapper ESG and I’m so glad I did. Their song UFO is one of those songs that’s been sampled so many times you think of it as more of a sound effect than a song, like it comes preloaded on a drum machine everyone has or something, but it’s also a good template for ESG’s sound. Every ESG song I’ve heard so far goes like this: a straightforward beat that doesn’t change for the whole song, a functional bassline that doesn’t change for the whole song, and good old fashioned simple lyrics about dancing and having a good time that sound more like schoolyard clapping games than anything. It doesn’t sound like much but over the course of an album it adds up to this incredible sort of hypnotic post-punk funk that I cannot get enough of. It sounds like kids who have 1 idea making a whole album out of it because that’s exactly what it is and it’s great!

Crave You - Flight Facilities: I love how elementally simple this song is. The vocals are hypnotising enough so everything else just quietly supports it. The only part that stands out is the thick bass synth halfway through which makes the short sax solo at the and all the sweeter, a tiny little cherry on top.

You - Delta 5: Get a load of this band bio: “Initially inspired by the success of local heroes The Mekons and Gang Of Four, Leeds, England’s Delta 5 later emerged as one of the key figures of the feminist new wave. Formed in 1979 by vocalist/guitarist Julz Sale, fretless bassist Ros Allen and bassist Bethan Peters.” Just going to gloss over them having TWO bass players before they even have a drummer?? Absolutely amazing. I love this song because it’s such a specific, targeted fury. Imagine being the loser at your girlfriend’s gig when she launched into this one for the first time. ‘who’s got homebrew with lots of sediment?’ oh fuck that’s me ‘who took me to the Windham for a big night out?’ oh fuck that’s me ‘I found out about you’ oh FUCK

Siren - Gong Gong Gong: I love the way the bass works in this, just looping and layering different variations of this noisy, stationary riff on top of itself - steadfastly staying in the exact same place the whole song and growing in power the whole time as it sits in its stubbornness.

Changes - Antonio Williams and Kerry McCoy: This came up on my Discover Weekly and I completely fell in love with it, then I realised it’s Antwan and Kerry McCoy from Deafheaven which is extremely intriguing collaboration and fell in love even more. The vocals are so good. The pure broken-hearted anguish, and the super blunt delivery that progresses to straight up yelling by the end of it combined with the Radio Dept type instrumentation is just so powerful. This feels like it’s a song that could really be a life-changing piece of catharsis for everyone in a 5k radius done live.

Fuck A War - Geto Boys: Absolutely in love with the conceit of this song: rapping a whole song down the line to the army drafter. The incredible part being of course that Bushwick Bill would be able to dodge any draft easily, being as he was both a dwarf and blind in one eye.

God Make Me Funky - The Headhunters: I found a lot of great songs going through the samples list for We Can’t Be Stopped by Geto Boys and this is one of them. I have so much love for any song that takes its time like this: nearly two minutes to set the scene and somehow taking deadly seriously the very funny lyrical idea of desperately praying to god to PLEASE make you funky. The way this song escalates is also amazing, moving from a hot groove that sits in place to a full-on saxophone meltdown that feels like god placing his finger on your forehead and saying ‘so you want to be funky, do you?’ in a scary voice.

Use Me - Bill Withers: Fortunately and unfortunately, because of how this song was in Anchorman and because I’ve seen Anchorman one million times I can’t listen to it without hearing the noise Ron Burgundy makes when he sees Veronica in the first few seconds. Anyway, this song is so horny. The part where he has to explain to his bro how good this shit is? Doing all kinds of weird dom shit like ‘getting him in a crowd of high class people and then acting real rude to him?’ Weird. And the escalation into the claps at BABY! is amazing, he’s just going off powered by horniness and god bless him for it.

America! I’m For The Birds - Nicolas Jaar: Unbelievably, the deluxe edition of Sirens is possibly superior to the original. It’s a whole new tracklist, new songs interspersed throughout rather than the usual ‘three new songs at the end’ and it really gives it a whole new feel. This song is my favourite of the new ones and it’s a song I had in my head for a solid week. A perfect song to sing to yourself because the lyrics are so indistinct that you just end up mumbling pleasantly exactly like he is.

Cable Guy - Tierra Whack: I’m finally catching up on Tierra Whack and everyone’s right: she rocks. The sheer restraint in these songs is amazing, they just get in and out with only the good parts and no bullshit. It reminds me a lot of To The Innocent by Thingy which is one of my favourite albums for the same reason - the economy of the songwriting just serves to amplify the feeling of it. They both have this total irreverence in the lyricism where the songs are kind of about nothing but they’re so short and heartfelt that you dig for the feeling underneath it.

No Drug Like Me - Carly Rae Jepsen: I’ve previously written that what I love the most about the Carly Rae Jepsen is how horny it is and I’d like to double down on that sentiment here. I love how slow this song is, it’s the perfect tempo between danceable and ‘fucking’.

Con Calma (Remix) - Daddy Yankee, Katy Perry and Snow: I’ve been on a european holiday for most of this month and I would like to report that across Spain, Portugal, Czech Republic, France and Germany this is the absolute song of the summer. It is completely inescapable and personally I can’t get enough. Informer is one of the greatest and strangest one hit wonders of all time (it’s also canada’s highest selling reggae song of all time and Snow is thusly named because he’s white) and I’m psyched to hear it reworked by Daddy Yankee like this. Katy Perry being on the crossover attempt remix isn’t a good sign for her new album but she kills it so maybe that’s all that matters.

Chase The Devil - Max Romeo and The Upsetters: Here’s the other half of my short lived dub phase from the end of last month. This is a good example also of how completely beguiling lyrics can still be so effective. I have no idea what he means by putting on an iron shirt but it rhymes and he’s saying it with conviction so I’m nodding!

Glass - Bat For Lashes: The new Bat For Lashes songs have got me revisiting Two Suns which is an all time great five star album and this is my favourite song from it. Maybe the most powerful opening track of all time, it does as much worldbuilding as most fantasy novels do in 1000 pages. In fact almost every line in this is a viable fantasy novel title. A Thousand Crystal Towers. The Hand Of The Watchmen. A Knight In Crystal Armour. A Cape Of Rainbow. The way she sings ‘to be made of glass’ is.. incredible. I love Natasha Khan and I cannot wait to see what she does next.

Unsquare Dance - Paddy Milner: In searching spotify for other interpretations of Unsquare Dance after getting obsessed with it last month I came across this absolutely bonkers version. It’s maniacal, it feels like you would be physically and mentally drained by the end playing it because I am just listening to it. Need a little lie down.

Gimme Some Skin, My Friend - The Andrews Sisters: My girlfriend has turned me onto The Andrews Sisters lesser known hits recently and this is the best one: a song from when high fives were a novelty that those wacky blacks over in Harlem town were inventing. Extremely odd but an undeniable banger. The thing about The Andrews Sisters is one of them was an absolute force of nature as a performer and the other two were complete wet blankets and it’s kind of funny they were together as a group for their whole career because anyone with eyes can see where the real star is. The way she sings ‘baby’ at 1:25, and that whole run really, is absolutely amazing and so much better than this extremely dumb song deserves.

Kids On The Run - The Tallest Man On Earth: The piano sound alone in this is just so beautiful. This song could be about anything at all and it would still make me cry, and luckily for me: it basically is!

King Of Spain - The Tallest Man On Earth: Good song I had in my head the whole time I was in Spain. It’s incredible that his voice is so good. It feels like if it was even the tiniest bit different, slightly rougher or tinnier he would be completely hilariously unlistenable but instead he’s amazing. Plus the fact that he leans into it with the purposefully lo-fi trebly production is just so confident you can’t help but love it.

Romeo And Juliet - The Indigo Girls: A great cover I wasn’t aware of before that I heard in this great documentary Wildwood I was watching https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOWxnh012J0. The way she absolutely flies off the handle and nearly tears the song down around her near the last chorus is pure power and I love people who can do that in an acoustic song without it feeling overblown, just getting totally swept up in it and taking everyone along with you.

On The Bus Mall - The Decemberists: Definitely the number one song about gay teenage prostitutes who love each other and are optimistic against the odds.

White Fire - Angel Olsen: This song feels like a piece of dark magic. It feels like a 4am moment of clarity, speaking everything true in a five minute monotone and then instantly falling back to sleep with only a dim memory in the morning.

Glass Eyes -JW Ridley: JW Ridley is a genius and I cannot wait to see what he does with an album. Every song he puts out seems to be better than his last. The central melody in this is just beautiful, and the whole thing has so much space in it it feels so much longer than 3 minutes. It’s like a song you can live in.

Nullarbor - Floodlights: I love how rough this song is, and driving across australia because you’ve got nothing else going on and want to rattle your own cage is a Huge mood.

Made Too Pretty (Audiotree Live Version) - As Cities Burn: I’m so glad As Cities Burn are back, because it means they get to do good shit like this Audiotree session where they absolutely killed it.

Dirty Hearts - Dallas Crane: I think I’ve put this on a playlist before for exactly the same reason: it’s a song I wake up with in my head fairly often for some reason and it’s a very fun slice of pub rock that doesn’t overstay it’s welcome.

Ruin This Smile - The Number 12 Looks Like You: Did you know The Number 12 Looks Like You have reformed after 10 years away and haven’t missed a step at all?? I’m salivating. This song is as good as anything they’ve put out before, and feels like it fits somewhere between Mongrel and Worse Than Alone which is fantastic news for me who always loved those a lot more than their earlier more explicitly grindcore stuff.

Nutrient Painting - Yellow Eyes: A special thanks to my friend and yours Powerburial for linking this song on his twitter. There’s something about the guitars in this song, in almost every riff, where it sounds like they’re playing backwards somehow. Like the structure of the melodies is backwards. It doesn’t make sense but that’s what it sounds like to me and it’s very disconcerting.

Jejune Stars - Bright Eyes: I think this an underrated Conor Oberst era, when he became a sort of buddhist for a while and wasn’t sad anymore but just observed earth from outer space instead. I also love the instrumentation of this song, Bright Eyes and blast beats a match made in heaven. Also the strange sample about pom’granite at the end is one of my favourite things ever. A very strange album to retire the Bright Eyes name on but a very good one too.

At The Bar - Dirty Three: When I was overseas I was thinking about cultural music, and Australia’s place in the world and things like that. I ended up thinking about Dirty Three who I think along with The Drones make the most distinctly Australian sounding music to me. Just the vastness they manage to conjure from such straightforward barebones instrumentation is incredible.

listen here

#Playlists

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whatthefoucault · 5 years

Text

A Chronological List of Works by me, whatthefoucault: the Everything Edition

So it turns out I’ve actually written a very good number of words. Almost all of the superhero things I’ve written fall into the same timeline/continuity, which I like to call Earth-212, adjacent to a few canons and then sort of also has a life of its own. I wasn’t sure how best to organise this, but here’s an attempt at placing all of these works into a vague chronological order, though almost all of them can be read independently and the reading order doesn’t really matter. Largely stucky, with some other Cap Fam shenanigans, and also a lot of entries for frostmaster and other Revengers business, some Hawkeyes, and various others. Heed the tags in each fic, but bear in mind I’m here for softness, recovery, finding one’s place in the world, and that’s largely what I’m here to write about. If this list of everything-in-chronological-order is overwhelming and you want to get more specific, here’s:

Cap Fam

Revengers

Miscellaneous

The Stargazer’s Field Guide To Constellations

By the time Bucky happened upon him, doubled over on the front steps of the library, Steve was already as green as a plate of creamed spinach.

And My Heart Beats So That I Can Hardly Speak

Steve doesn't dance, but this was a special occasion.

(A Few Inches Too Far) Underneath The Mistletoe

It was purely by chance that Steve happened upon a scruffy little sprig of discarded mistletoe on their way back from dinner with the Barnes family.

So Take It From Me, Captain America

"Ok, Captain America PSA number four, take one, and... action."

Sextown, U.S.A.

The message was vague on details, but the urgency in Wade’s voice told Steve it was serious, and that he should come alone.

“Help me, Steve Rogers,” he pleaded. “You’re my only hope.”

Steve had to admit that that got to him.

(It would be three months before Steve would see Star Wars for the first time. Needless to say, he was not amused when he did.)

... In which two supersoldiers form a very special bond across several time zones, many states, and more all-you-can-eat breakfast than anyone should ever eat in their life.

Advanced Seminar In Postmodern Cultural Analysis, Lesson Five

In which Steve Rogers and his very good friend Wade Wilson hang out.

The Sand And The Sea

Clint and Kate have not talked about that thing that happened.

Bring Your Silver Arrows

After that thing that happened with Kate, Clint's going through some stuff.

Continental Breakfast Not Included

Sam had definitely asked for separate beds, but they had been driving since before sunrise, and it was almost midnight.

This Is Going To Make For An Interesting Expenses Claim Form

The scene before him as he rushed to the bathroom door, one pant leg still flapping awkwardly underfoot, would have to anyone else been highly out of the ordinary, but they were superheroes, after all.

The Season For Plums

One day, a man went to the market to buy plums.

Notes From A Dirty Attic

I don't know what I'm doing.

My name is Bucky. I come from Brooklyn. I died in the war.

Particle-Wave Duality

While Bucky is napping, Steve reads to him.

Blackout Nights And Tight Spaces

It was cold, then sleep, but it was different this time. He was dreaming.

Caprine Management

In which Steve meets Bucky's new friends.

Everyone’s A Winner

Little did the Grandmaster know, when he settled in by the pool, that his evening was about to become much more interesting.

The Art Of The Co-Operative Endgame

The Grandmaster surveyed the board as Loki prepared to make his move, and - oh, this was interesting, he thought - there was a very good chance indeed that Loki might actually win.

Moonshakes

"Hey Scrappy," said the Grandmaster, "what do you think of the new guy, uhh, Loki?"

Gamalost

In which the Grandmaster has found the right companion with whom to share one of his very favourite things.

When Loki falls out of the sky and into the Grandmaster’s lap, he gets everything he hopes for and more. The more comes in the form of cheese. A lot of cheese.

Two Seat Sofa, Hensta Light Brown

"So..." Steve hesitated to finish the question, "are we dating?"

(In which Steve and Bucky come home.)

I Guess That This Must Be The Place

He closed his eyes, and prayed his words would project over the distance, somehow:

Count down from a hundred, and then come and find me, my sunshine.

... in which the Grandmaster embarks on an intergalactic road trip in search of his love.

A Constellation Of Sunlight, Beneath The Cherry Tree

It was well into the night when they lay together, but it was not until the morning that they made love.

Rugbrød, Fløtemysost, og Molter

There were some things the Grandmaster needed to know about Loki, and it seemed, from the shift she felt in her bones as she awoke, that this was the morning to address them.

No Less Than Three Kinds of Cheese

The sun was out and the park was beautiful, but it was still too cold for a picnic.

Sugaring

Every morning, Steve sets out from the little cabin to tend to their maple trees.

Solskinnsboller

The fact that no bakery in the entire staggering metropolis he currently called home had ever so much as heard of solskinnsboller was tragic, but Loki was nothing if not resourceful. He would just have to make them himself.

Butter, Sugar, Flour, Eggs

"What was my grandma's name?" asked Bucky, apropos of nothing.

Syzygy

It was cloudy enough that most people chose to forego the beach that Tuesday, but such things would not deter the Grandmaster and Loki from a day out.

American Globs

Objectively, he knew everything was fine. He knew they were fireworks, and that they were beautiful, and back in the day, he and Steve used to sit under the stars together and watch them light up the sky with wonder and delight.

But time had passed since then.

It’s Like Right Now

Nat and Sam visit a street food market.

Me And My Baby Gonna Touch That Leather

"I think we should fuck," said Bucky, as Steve began climbing back under the duvet.

Say The Magic Word

"Hey, if you're going past the kitchen, do you think you could get me another coffee?"

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

… in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

The Nemophilists

“Conspicuous,” said Steve, apropos of nothing. Bucky was putting away the last of the clean dishes.

“Conspicuous?” asked Bucky, nesting the heatproof glass bowl precariously in a short stack of significantly smaller cereal bowls.

“Yeah,” said Steve, scooping last of the leftovers into a container that, it turned out, was a tablespoon too small. “I’m.”

Nemophilist: (n.) One who is fond of the forest.

The Shape Of A Snake In A Defensive Coil

In which Loki's not very well, and the Grandmaster volunteers a solution.

Long Hair Problems, And How To Outsmart Them

“So I guess we’re not getting up early to line up for brunch?”

The End Of A Century

This is the story of a sister and her brother.

As the shadow of the war fades and gives way to new conflicts, Becca Barnes battles the constraints of the twentieth century: an education, a marriage, a career, with the ghosts of her youth never far from her memory. As the twenty-first century barrels on through its awkward teenage phase, Bucky Barnes builds a new life, with new friends, and a burgeoning relationship with his lifelong companion Steve, the erstwhile Captain America, as they struggle to find their place in the world. The last time Becca saw her brother was on the eve of war; neither of them expected, some seventy-something years, a hip replacement, and one new arm later, to be reunited.

This is a story about family.

And Our Dreams Are Making Us Nice Stories

Steve had been adamant that a party was unnecessary; however, his friends had insisted, bundling into his little Brooklyn apartment with pizzas and a selection of local microbrews and seven-layer taco dip and two dozen supermarket cupcakes emblazoned with the most neon buttercream he had ever seen piped into the stripes of little American flags.

A Ghost That The Others Can’t See

"What'd you tell her about me?"

"Only the good stuff."

From the Mighty Forest of Vacherin to the Belegen Fields

When it came to special events, the Grandmaster did not do understated.

The Littlest Balsam In Brooklyn

In which Bucky and Steve get a tree.

When Life Gives You Limoncello

In which Bucky has baked a pie.

Blessings

At last, the shape of life after everything had begun to come into focus. Bucky and Steve consider the next steps, and some friends come to visit.

Kinugoshi

When the Grandmaster had suggested somewhere special for lunch, Loki was not expecting a small, four-table restaurant in an unremarkable suburb of Kyoto, but there they were.

Stargazing

"You know what? Let's get out of the city," Steve suggested after dinner.

(In which Steve has a very quiet birthday.)

The Mighty Hrothgar

"Uhh, I dunno about this place, stardust," the Grandmaster said to Loki, his tone hushed. "I've introduced myself to, like, five dogs, and none of them have said a word. Why don't they like me?"

The Fundamentals of Sciurine Linguistics

Sam Wilson was sure about three things: the words Captain America were enough to nab a table for two at the most popular noodle bar in the East Village on short notice, everyone loved a good noodle bar, and ramen was up there with corn on the cob and chicken wings as the worst possible food choice for a first date.

Eight Evenings In The Kitchen

The Barnes-Rogers Hanukkristmas season was always going to be one spent almost exclusively in the kitchen.

Light Showers And A Gentle Breeze

They had been under no illusions that there would be a guarantee of snow, but nothing could have quite prepared them for the abundant, relentless sprinkle of rain.

In which Bucky and Steve go somewhere quiet for Christmas.

Nine And Three-Quarters

"I don't get it, stardust," puzzled the Grandmaster. "It was supposed to be right here. Between Platforms 9 and 10."

Strollin’

"Hot dogs?" asked Steve.

"Hot dogs," agreed Bucky.

The Greatest Thing

In which the Grandmaster plays an early afternoon slot at his very first Midgardian jazz festival.

On A Quiet Morning In The Last Forest In Brooklyn

“We said we wanted to keep the guest list short,” protested Steve. “Just close family, and close friends. Nothing expensive, nothing... tacky.”

“As if you’re one to complain about tacky,” countered Tony. “I got my invitation by group text. Who does that?”

...in which Bucky and Steve get married.

The Witches Of Føroyar

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, nestled in a little cottage just beyond the rocky shores of a tiny, windswept island, lived two very special people indeed. The green witch drew his power from the moon and the stars and the deep, dark night sky; while the gold witch shone with the power of the sun, dazzling and bright. They loved the island and the mountains and the stormy sea, but most of all, they loved each other very much.

#stucky #frostmaster #clintkate #ironstrange #samnat #samsquirrel #thorbruce #hawkpool #cartinelli #writings #masterpost

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whatthefoucault · 5 years

Text

A Chronological List of Works by me, whatthefoucault: the Cap Fam Edition

These are the stories largely about members of the Cap Fam - so, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Nat. Stories marked with a * are the bigger works so far, for maximum feels and development, and possibly a comforting alternative to canon. Enjoy!

The Stargazer’s Field Guide To Constellations

By the time Bucky happened upon him, doubled over on the front steps of the library, Steve was already as green as a plate of creamed spinach.

And My Heart Beats So That I Can Hardly Speak

Steve doesn't dance, but this was a special occasion.

(A Few Inches Too Far) Underneath The Mistletoe

It was purely by chance that Steve happened upon a scruffy little sprig of discarded mistletoe on their way back from dinner with the Barnes family.

So Take It From Me, Captain America

"Ok, Captain America PSA number four, take one, and... action."

Sextown, U.S.A.*

The message was vague on details, but the urgency in Wade’s voice told Steve it was serious, and that he should come alone.

“Help me, Steve Rogers,” he pleaded. “You’re my only hope.”

Steve had to admit that that got to him.

(It would be three months before Steve would see Star Wars for the first time. Needless to say, he was not amused when he did.)

... In which two supersoldiers form a very special bond across several time zones, many states, and more all-you-can-eat breakfast than anyone should ever eat in their life.

Advanced Seminar In Postmodern Cultural Analysis, Lesson Five

In which Steve Rogers and his very good friend Wade Wilson hang out.

Continental Breakfast Not Included

Sam had definitely asked for separate beds, but they had been driving since before sunrise, and it was almost midnight.

The Season For Plums*

One day, a man went to the market to buy plums.

Notes From A Dirty Attic*

I don't know what I'm doing.

My name is Bucky. I come from Brooklyn. I died in the war.

Particle-Wave Duality*

While Bucky is napping, Steve reads to him.

Blackout Nights And Tight Spaces

It was cold, then sleep, but it was different this time. He was dreaming.

Caprine Management

In which Steve meets Bucky's new friends.

Two Seat Sofa, Hensta Light Brown*

"So..." Steve hesitated to finish the question, "are we dating?"

(In which Steve and Bucky come home.)

No Less Than Three Kinds of Cheese

The sun was out and the park was beautiful, but it was still too cold for a picnic.

Sugaring

Every morning, Steve sets out from the little cabin to tend to their maple trees.

Butter, Sugar, Flour, Eggs

"What was my grandma's name?" asked Bucky, apropos of nothing.

American Globs

But time had passed since then.

It’s Like Right Now

Nat and Sam visit a street food market.

Me And My Baby Gonna Touch That Leather

"I think we should fuck," said Bucky, as Steve began climbing back under the duvet.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

The Nemophilists

“Conspicuous,” said Steve, apropos of nothing. Bucky was putting away the last of the clean dishes.

“Conspicuous?” asked Bucky, nesting the heatproof glass bowl precariously in a short stack of significantly smaller cereal bowls.

“Yeah,” said Steve, scooping last of the leftovers into a container that, it turned out, was a tablespoon too small. “I’m.”

Nemophilist: (n.) One who is fond of the forest.

Long Hair Problems, And How To Outsmart Them

“So I guess we’re not getting up early to line up for brunch?”

The End Of A Century*

This is the story of a sister and her brother.

This is a story about family.

And Our Dreams Are Making Us Nice Stories

A Ghost That The Others Can’t See

"What'd you tell her about me?"

"Only the good stuff."

The Littlest Balsam In Brooklyn

In which Bucky and Steve get a tree.

When Life Gives You Limoncello

In which Bucky has baked a pie.

Blessings*

At last, the shape of life after everything had begun to come into focus. Bucky and Steve consider the next steps, and some friends come to visit.

Stargazing

"You know what? Let's get out of the city," Steve suggested after dinner.

(In which Steve has a very quiet birthday.)

The Fundamentals of Sciurine Linguistics

Eight Evenings In The Kitchen

The Barnes-Rogers Hanukkristmas season was always going to be one spent almost exclusively in the kitchen.

Light Showers And A Gentle Breeze

They had been under no illusions that there would be a guarantee of snow, but nothing could have quite prepared them for the abundant, relentless sprinkle of rain.

In which Bucky and Steve go somewhere quiet for Christmas.

Strollin’

"Hot dogs?" asked Steve.

"Hot dogs," agreed Bucky.

On A Quiet Morning In The Last Forest In Brooklyn*

“We said we wanted to keep the guest list short,” protested Steve. “Just close family, and close friends. Nothing expensive, nothing... tacky.”

“As if you’re one to complain about tacky,” countered Tony. “I got my invitation by group text. Who does that?”

...in which Bucky and Steve get married.

Sliding Into Second

“Stevie,” said Bucky, his voice tinged with a tired sort of fondness, “you’re a good man, and I know you’d never use the former Captain America's name for something as trivial as, oh I dunno, VIP seats right behind home plate, but…”

... in which the fellas go to a baseball game.

Untitled Goat Game*

A therapy goat, he thought. It was all Bucky could do to keep his eyebrows from furrowing into one megabrow. "Seriously?"

... in which, despite being entirely at home in the big city, Bucky finds himself experiencing a pang of nostalgia for the little herd of goats he looked after back in Wakanda.

The Witches Of Føroyar

#stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #samnat #samsquirrel #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #doreen green #cartinelli #peggy carter #angie martinelli #writings #masterpost

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