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auggie-hunter · 3 years

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the insomnia diaries;

❛ surprise. send an unexpected nsfw image to my muse.

truthfully, auggie should've known this could’ve happened one day. not that he’d ever expect it from her, or even ask, but he should’ve known teddy graham would find new and exciting ways to make him fall out of his chair.

(literally; he’s in the middle of a stream when it happens. he’d seen the notification go off while waiting for his game to load and had the capital idea to fully lean over to check instead of just reaching for his phone with his arm.

he’s could not be more relieved that he falls to the ground because he isn’t sure he could’ve kept a poker face on camera. or that he’d make it to his 23rd birthday with the way his heart is racing)

and while his viewers are likely laughing up a storm at his faux pas, turning his chat to chaos, he manages enough mental capacity to mute his mic, eyes still glued to his phone.

because his girlfriend, bare from the chest up with an arm tucked behind her head and a knowing, bright red smirk on her lips, stares back at him on his phone.

vlauggie: sorry dudes, technical difficulties, we’re back tomorrow, 7pm. ps: you’re all banned for laughing at me :)

…even if technical difficulties were, quite literally, him dramatically unplugging the computer and running to his bedroom where she laughed loudly when he all but jumped her bones.

worth it. totally.

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❛ abrupt. kiss my muse out of the blue.

she’s in the middle of a phone call with her sisters, giggling from her place on the barstool at the kitchen island. about whatever it is they’re discussing. he isn’t sure; he genuinely hasn’t been listening. what he is sure about is how happy she looks to hear their voices and be laughing with them.

he hasn’t seen her smile in so long, he thinks, and his heart squeezes when he realizes just how long it’s actually been. eight months since they lost lip.

her eyes look so bright, and she looks so much like herself. like his teddy. like the heaviness of her heartbreak isn’t weighing her down.

like she might fly again.

he’s missed this for her.

she’s mid sentence when he cups both her cheeks and presses his lips to hers, soft and tender and warm. it catches her off guard; he can tell by the way she stares back at him, lips slightly parted, confusion on her brow. but instead of answering her or explaining, he drops a long, lingering kiss atop her head, thumbs swiping softly over her cheeks.

she mutters something about calling them back and her arms are sliding around his waist a second later, drawing him into her arms.

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❛ go down. go down on my muse.

he almost hates that she’s here like this. almost. that she could come back after all this time, after he finally figured out how to make himself stop missing her long enough to move on.

he almost hates that he’s so addicted to her that he’s willing to burn it all down for her.

almost. but auggie hunter could be selfish like that. teddy graham would always make him selfish when it came to her.

they were just supposed to talk. she just wanted to talk, or so she said. the way she’d fallen into his lap in the middle of it all told a different story.

the way he falls right into her makes him angry, because he knows she knew he would, and that he always would. she knows her choosing not to talk and just go straight into the familiar is her way of having her cake and eating it, too.

but two can play at that game. and he can’t say he’s doing much thinking when he lifts her onto the desk in front of him though. or when he’s pulling lace that he wants to pretend wasn’t strategic down her thighs and letting his mouth following the same trail back up them.

the ring on his left hand burns with the weight of what he’s doing, and the pressure of soft, firm skin underneath it. he desperately wonders in the back of his mind if there will ever be a day in his life where he isn’t weak for the woman in front of him.

(he also wonders how in the world they got here)

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❛ note. give my muse a note saying : [ content ].

he’s surprisingly nervous today. ironic, considering he’s technically already done this. but til the day he died, auggie hunter was certain teddy graham would, without much effort on her part, make his heart race.

they weren’t even going to have a wedding. they’d talked about it, sure, once they’d gotten back from paris, matching rings on their fingers. they’d said they could do it one more time for their parents’ sake.

except the world had been put on pause, she’d turned out to be pregnant, and they’d had more pressing matters to attend to in the form of two babies and more love and life than they knew what to do with.

but that was then. this was now. their daughters are eight months old, the world’s eased back in, and their families are waiting patiently in the terrace of the house in maine he and teddy had called home for the better part of the last eighteen months.

they’re getting married. again.

and he’s nervous.

the thing is, if he could see her, then maybe he wouldn’t feel so antsy about it. call it separation anxiety after all the time they’d spent together coupled with way too much excitement.

and he’d see her soon; one glance at his watch tells him they’re only twenty minutes out from when he’d be waiting for her at the top of the beautifully decorated aisle in the garden.

(the watch is a present from freddie when he’d come in to help with his tie, their father’s initials engraved in the back. “he’s here, too…” his brother had said, and they’d both held back tears)

but somehow, twenty minutes feels like an eternity.

he closes his eyes and takes a long deep breath, trying to get it together, before reaching for his suit jacket. he’s getting married. (again).

while running both hands over the front to smooth out the neatly pressed material that makes him look older somehow, wise beyond his years, a crinkling grabs his attention. he furrows his brow, wondering if the dry cleaners had forgotten some kind of tag in the pocket. he’s careful with the boutonniere, trying to make sure he didn’t ruin teddy’s favorite flower resting delicately over the pocket.

an envelope.

he furrows his brow as he pulls it out. that for sure hadn’t been in there before. or at least… he thought he’d have noticed when he pulled it out of the garment bag. the paper crinkles in his hand when he turns it to read it, and then, he smiles.

auggie.

written in a familiar cursive he’s seen a dozen times on post-its, in journals, in love letters. teddy.

he’s careful not to rip it when he opens it, chuckling to himself when he spots the blue paw print sticker on the back. an ode to their ongoing blue’s clues binge when rosie decides she’s over sleeping promptly at 4:07 in the morning.

loving you is my favorite part of waking up every morning. and knowing i’ll get to love you the next day is my favorite part about going to sleep. thank you for taking my hand, and wrecking all of my plans. i wouldn’t have it any other way.

can’t wait to marry you (again!!!)

- ted

yeah. he’s ready now. and would be forever.

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❛ mark. leave a mark on my muse’s body [ specify where ].

working out your history probably wouldn’t end with a purple bruise on your hip bone.

(or it could; it would maybe just lead to a more fun memory than the painful one you’re currently dwelling on)

had you sorted your shit out, you wouldn’t have shown up late at night, dressed (or undressed) in the way you were, to jump into the arms of a married man.

(or you would’ve, except you’d have been his wife, and he’d have been your husband and you would’ve giggled in each other’s arms in the aftermath)

but the purple bruise on your hip bone is angry, a symbol of wanting and taking what doesn’t belong to you, of him having his cake and eating it, too, (literally) even if you’re the one who let him in the first place.

you’re the one who showed up to his restaurant late at night; you’re the one who insisted you talk; you’re the one who found your way onto his lap.

(even if he’s the one whose deep frustration led him to push you onto the desk in his office and find home between your legs, hands gripping your thighs like a lifeline. the red scratches on the side of your right thigh should fade soon; at least the reminder of the band on his finger not having the strength to last as long as the tender skin low on your hip bone.

the secret, wordless brand on your skin is a longer reminder of how much he resents you for leaving him.

or maybe he resents you more for coming back.

then again, he’s the married one, you think selfishly. although, there’s a ring on your finger that makes you a hypocrite since you’d be there soon, too.

had you sorted your shit out, you wouldn’t be staring at a reminder on your bare skin through the mirror. you’d be with him. where you belong.

and he’d be with you, where he belongs.

(but maybe the bullshit ends with you. maybe you’re the one who sorts it by slipping the ring off your finger.)

(and you refuse to be anyone’s secret. and you refuse to have him of all people be yours)

(you just desperately hope he feels the same)

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❛ pin. push my muse against a [ wall, table, other ].

teddy wasn’t even going to have a bachelorette party. she was just planning on grabbing auggie and eloping at the courthouse, wanting nothing more than to just be married to him. but she should’ve known her sisters wouldn’t be able to help herself. even her little siblings bixby and belly, freshly twenty-one, wanted in on the planning.

it’s how she finds herself leading a singalong of four of her siblings, her future siblings in law, her best friends, and fellow patrons while belting “africa” by toto at a karaoke bar, drunk on too many sugary lime mojitos.

there’s a tilted crown on her head that looks too perfectly placed for how tacky it’s actually meant to be, and she’s clumsier than usual, so while the room goes wild, daily has to come to her rescue and help her off the stage when it’s over.

she’s one step down when she spots him, all the way at the back by the bar. her jaw drops and she gasps like she hasn’t seen him in ages though it’s only been a few hours.

her fiancé, her auggie, watching her with his smile like sunshine and cinnamon bun wrinkled forehead. (good lord, she’s drunk) she loves him so much.

(she’s really gonna be his wife. she could cry.)

daily’s calling after her when she clumsily runs away from her and toward his direction, narrowly missing a waitress on her way over. but teddy ignores her, a woman on a mission.

her lips are on his before she even says hi, arms wrapping around his neck and crossing at her forearms. she nudges him back, pinning him up against the corner of the bar, and when he chuckles against her mouth and pulls back to look at her, she grins just as wide.

“sorry to interrupt your big night, i just wanted to—“

she shakes her head and kisses him again. “never, i missed you sooooo much.” this time her smooch is loud, and he laughs wrapping an arm around her waist when he feels her kiss more of the space above this lips than his actual lips.

somewhere behind her, she can hear olive mutter something about it being a bachelorette party, but she doesn’t entirely care. auggie’s here!

“baby,” he mumbles against her mouth, pulling back. “go back to your party. i just wanted to bring you this,” he pulls out her engagement ring from inside his pocket. “i thought you might’ve forgotten it. though i think i should hold on to it for now.”

she pouts, ready to protest, but he grabs her left arm from where it rests at his shoulder, a huge, pink toy diamond ring on her finger. “just until you come home; you’re already covered.” he kisses her cheek three times.

“el—“ she hiccups. “it was eliza’s idea. she said she saw it on one tree hill and was scared i’d lose mine.”

he snorts. “thanks, one tree hill.”

“go ravens.” she giggles and stands on her toes to kiss him. “wanna make out?”

“i think you’ve got that part covered,” he says against her lips, still so very amused at her.

“okay but over there so i can take your pants off,” she slurs, closing the inch of space between them so he’s pinned against the bar counter.

“how about you go have fun, and i’ll wait for you later with no pants.” though he knows a puddle of drunk teddy would end her night in sleep, but he humors her.

she gasps. “can we go now?” and he has to catch her hand before she unbuttons his pants.

“no, olive and allie are already glaring at me for being here,” he tells her and kisses her forehead. “go; i’ll see you at home, okay?”

“…fine. i love you. a lot, a lot. like, to pluto a lot.”

there’s that smile again, big and bright and she all but melts into her boots: “i love you, too.”

as she’s walking away, she turns back to look at him. “i won’t even tell anybody about your whole fake pretest. pretet… pre…” she huffs, tongue tied again:

he laughs. “you caught me.” and with a final wink, she’s finally back with her party, and he’s walking out the door, both hands in his pockets, and his soft grin intact.

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❛ choke. intimately wrap your hands around my muse’s throat.

okay, so it isn’t shocking per se; all the time they spent surviving on stolen moments and making the most of them for so long (before deciding to just say screw it, secrets be damned) had turned into lessons and discoveries.

lessons and discoveries that led them both to understand they were all kinds of kinky.

like how auggie was easily putty in teddy’s hands at the sight of her in any kind of lace. or satin. or leather, and how much she loved how easy it was for her get him to bend at her whim. or teddy being really into being tied up (and tying him up). her affinity for being blindfolded (and blindfolding him)

“i like surprises.” she’d said it at her birthday dinner; herhad eyes met his across the dinner table, knowing he’d know what she meant despite being surrounded by all their friends, none of them any wiser.

there’s auggie’s obsession with going down on her, and the way her legs had a little too much power over him. he was convinced this was why she’d started wearing shorter dresses in his presence. though she’d never admit it.

(it’s how he put two and two together about how having him look, but not touch was a turn on for her, and how she’d put it into practice by having him sit at the edge of her bed while she showed him all the ways she touched herself without him)

marks that scream mine, a slight tug of hair (or two), a hand up her skirt hidden in plain sight was a bit of a power trip, only to be met with bare, wet skin. because two could play at that game.

teddy on her knees. auggie from behind. chasing orgasms in new and exciting ways…

the list went on and on.

so again, finding this out isn’t shocking. a little surprising, considering they thought they’d fully populated the mental list by now. but when she’s pressed into the mattress, and he stops moving in her for a second to help ease her head out of the uncomfortable position it had ended up in, another discovery is made.

she’d winced, and when she’d complained about her head, he’d cupped the back of her neck, and gripped gently to help her get more comfortable. except his thumb puts a little more pressure than intended against her throat in the effort to help her move, and the way her eyes flutter while lips part and she clenches tighter around him gives him pause.

teddy appears a little surprised herself, especially with how her eyes widen when he lets go and she realizes what had just happened. he’s a little blown away, but clearly not as much as she is. but then his brow raises, a silent “really?” appearing on his face with an upward quirk of his lip.

of course, before she can even put together an explanation, her cheeks rouge a deeper shade of red than just a moment earlier to match her averted eyes and bashful expression.

he bows his head to kiss her. a reminder that there’s no need to be embarrassed. not about this, and especially not with him.

(even if the way she usually blushed while turned on, all the way from her face down to her chest, easily made his head spin. the way he could tell the difference was pretty hot, too)

but then auggie slows it down, more deliberate and sensual, and yet a little dirty, his hand eases back onto her neck, fingers and thumb applying careful pressure. he pulls back to look at her. he needs to follow her lead on this one; he won’t do it otherwise. there’s a word for this, too.

teddy’s eyes meet his, a slow nod of consent and trust allow him to keep going. and when those same eyes flutter again, and her lips part, he knows he’s found it. her sweet spot. and then he moves inside her again, picking back up where they left off.

she comes faster than either of them anticipate after that.

lesson #350.

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missed connections… what if we just missed who we were in a past life?

“wait, so you really just told indy you wouldn’t come to her wedding if she didn’t invite me?” teddy laughed, smoothing out the skirt of her dress, soft pink and ending just at her mid-thigh. indigo graff wanted a wedding of whimsy, which meant seventies florals and springtime energy. “you’re her maid of honor! it’s a small wedding.”

olive shrugged, the blonde highlights in her recently cut hair appearing extra glossy while styled in soft beach waves. “she knows i hate our cousins, i absolutely wasn’t getting through this without someone normal. and eliza couldn’t fly back from bali, and you know drew is still stuck in davenport because he’s the worst--”

“he’s not; you love him, and there’s a random springtime blizzard.”

“teddy stop being rational please, i’m being bitter, let me be bitter.” olive straightened out her own dress, the navy color as close to black as indigo would let her go for the day. she wasn’t hating it, or the way it contrasted with her red lipstick. “who plans an entire wedding in two weeks?!”

“okay,” teddy watches her trying to find the fine line between rational and letting olive be olive, but she’s still quite amused about this. “but scarlett is here. and forest is here.”

“forest is taking his photog job way too seriously so after we’re done being bridesmaids he’s gonna go off in search of the perfect wedding candids,” olive rolls her eyes while wrestling with the spandex shorts she’s wearing underneath to get them straight. “and i adore my sister, but scarlett decided she wanted to bring patrick to the wedding, and she adores patrick and will inevitably dump me for him once she’s done bridesmaid-ing. clearly my siblings don’t care about me and my needs..”

“on this day of all days? what a betrayal,” teddy snorts deadpan. “and you told me to bring ivy!” she walks around to help olive finish freshening up.

“i did, i know. but i like ivy. i don’t like patrick.”

“you don’t like anyone.”

“i know that, too,” olive says simply exhaling heavily before taking a look in the mirror. “okay, this is gonna have to do.”

teddy smiles at her through the mirror. “you look beautiful,” she tells her, wrapping both arms around olive’s shoulders and squeezing her tight. “come on, grumpy.”

as they make their way out of the bathroom, her best friend’s sigh makes teddy turn around. “i just can’t believe my big sister’s getting married.” olive’s lip quirks, pride swelling in her chest.

teddy grins. “you’re so cute. let’s get you over to her before all this real emotion goes away,” she teases, leading her out the door, but not before she bumps chest first into someone’s back just beside the door.

“oh!” teddy exclaims, grabbing onto a set or arms to find her balance.

“shit, sorry!”

olive glares, stopping short just before she could bump into teddy. “who stands in front of a bathroom door?!”

“sorry!”

olive looks to teddy. “auggie. fredward’s lame brother. and best man.”

“hi olive,” he shakes his head, seeming more amused at her antics than annoyed. like they’d been through this before. “hi, nice to meet you…”

“teddy,” she motions to herself. “best friend.”

he smiles. “teddy. that’s cute.”

teddy grins. “thank you.”

“don’t flirt with her, she’s taken,” olive interjects and teddy giggles when auggie blushes.

he clears his throat, shooting teddy an apologetic look before turning to olive. “i was looking for you actually. scarlett sent me. indigo’s ready to go.”

“and why didn’t scarlett come get me herself?”

auggie shrugs, but before he can say another word, teddy’s whisking her best friend away.

“come on, oli; it’s showtime, you can yell at your new in-laws later.” teddy shoots auggie a look of amusement and a friendly wave before disappearing down the hall.

the chaos of it all.

#wherein we cope with depression with bad writing at 3 in the morning :)

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peace-coast-island · 4 years

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Diary of a Junebug

All aboard the Midnight Train

One of the hardest parts of embarking on a big journey is taking the first step. I can say for certain that you will definitely stumble and fall - believe me, I’ve fallen further than I’ve moved forward - but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

That’s not to say you don’t have every right to be ticked off when things go wrong. I mean mishaps can be a good learning experience, but it’s okay to get frustrated when you lose your way.

Hell, it’s absolutely okay to bail out and throw in the towel when you’re just not feeling it. Perseverance is good, but sometimes it’s okay to say “fuck this shit, I’m out” - not to mention freeing if it’s about something that’s really dragging you down.

Sometimes life doesn’t work out. It fucking sucks but in most cases there’s nothing you can really do other than carry on. As my mom says, what’s done is done. Stop trying to build a house if it brings you more frustration than joy - tear the whole damn thing down and burn the remains if you have to.

Funny how far your mind can wander when you’re on a train. With nothing but trees, beautiful landscapes, and the starry night skies, deep thoughts are bound to run free. Especially when it’s about something that’s been on your mind for a while.

At the start of the new year, Daisy Jane decided to leave Rosevine. Like many other old friends - and myself - as much as we love our charming little town, we were starting to outgrow it. After spending almost two years at home stuck in a limbo, Daisy Jane had enough and packed her bags. Her mom wasn't too on board with the idea as she doesn’t really have the means to support herself but nevertheless she gave her daughter her blessing to go out in the world.

Daisy Jane’s one of those people who deserve so much more and yet usually ends up with the short end of the stick. She’s one of the most creative people I know and could easily make it as an artist if she had the support. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not nagging on her family, but at times they don’t respect her enough - especially her sister.

What I’m saying is that Daisy Jane could've become an artist if she wanted to, but disapproval from family is a hefty roadblock. They say doubt kills more dreams than failure but what about strict family expectations? Asian parents, amirite?

Tired of sitting around at home, getting repeatedly rejected in a career involving a degree she worked her ass off for, and being put down for not being as successful as everyone else, Daisy Jane needed to get out. So she did, taking a leap of faith and jumping straight into the unknown. She didn’t have a plan in mind, but sometimes you just gotta cut and run before you lose your nerve.

Months of traveling led her to the small village of Neptunia as she was running low on funds. What seemed like a promising new start quickly fell apart as soon as she stepped into her new house. That’s because it’s not actually her house - it belongs to someone else. Because Neptunia is so small and resources are limited, Daisy Jane is stuck rooming with a stranger. And both have to pay off the remaining mortgage, adding to the annoyance of both since the main resident already paid off a huge part of it herself.

Because of the living situation, Daisy Jane’s not too keen about living in Neptunia now. Her housemate’s nice and all but neither one were prepared for the roommate situation. Had she known about that, Daisy Jane wouldn’t have gone through with the move. But knowing how bad Tom Nook felt about the miscommunication regarding housing (you just can’t stay mad at him for too long - and in his defense, Neptunia’s kinda on the bottom of his list of villages he’s overseeing so it’s easy to forget things) Daisy Jane decided to stick around and see how things work out.

Six months in and things have been pretty meh for Daisy Jane. She didn’t want to dwell on the negatives too much but I suspected that she wasn’t entirely truthful. Always eager to please and willing to silently suffer, that Daisy Jane. Instead of creating art like she wants to, Daisy Jane’s been selling pears and shells, randomly planting stuff around the village, and running errands for everyone. She doesn’t mind doing all that (well, except maybe the garden, which she admits isn’t something she’s too excited about) but it all seems kinda anticlimactic. It also doesn’t help that Neptunia’s kinda isolated so there’s rarely any visitors, so things are pretty monotonous.

And to top it all off, Daisy Jane’s experiencing the absolute worst art block ever. By spending all her waking hours trying to pay off a mortgage, saving up for a rainy day, and catering to everyone else’s needs, she rarely has time for herself - or her creativity.

I really miss seeing her art online. It’s been months since she last posted something she made and it’s sad. You never know how much you miss something until it’s gone. The same can be said about creativity.

I’ve had my moments where my creativity and motivation for art burns out and it’s not a good feeling. Being someone who is driven by creating art, losing that spark is one of my biggest fears because without it, I’d be nothing. Art is one of those things that keep me going so to lose that means I’ve lost my purpose. I’d hate to think about what happens if my creativity is gone for good.

And what’s even worse is that I’m afraid Daisy Jane’s headed for that direction if she doesn’t take action soon. I suspected something from our texts and her posts, but seeing her in person really puts things into perspective.

She’s not one for selfies, her last one being taken over a year ago, so seeing her face for the first time in forever, I almost didn’t recognize her. From her hair being tied into three messy pigtails instead of adorned with pretty clips to the concealer hiding away the bags under her eyes and the slightly too dark blush on her face (what happened to her naturally rosy cheeks?) as well as the slightly ragged Nook shirt a couple sizes too large, I could’ve sworn that she was someone else.

Visiting Neptunia wasn’t too bad, but it’s no Wizpire. Things are just a tad bit too slow for my liking - and a bit outdated as well, then again what do you expect in these parts? Honestly I’m surprised that Tom Nook still keeps tabs on this village, especially since he’s busy with islands and such. Then again, he does feel bad about Daisy Jane’s housing mishap so he’s been dropping by quite a bit to check in on her.

To say that Daisy Jane’s been frustrated is an understatement. She describes it as escaping from one prison only to get stuck in a trap. Except staying in the trap is more practical than going back out on the road where it’s unpredictable. So she’s in a position where she feels like she can’t really complain because it’s not like she’s stuck in the middle of nowhere. It’s not an ideal situation but sometimes you need to pick and choose your battles.

I can’t tell Daisy Jane what to do since it’s not up to me, nor should I try to influence her in any way, but I can take her away for a bit. An outsider’s perspective can be super helpful, especially if you’ve been looking way too closely and missing out on the big picture. I know I’ve fallen into that trap too many times, wasting too much time and energy on one small piece without considering the overall grand scheme of things.

So we took out the train amenity to go on a late night ride. We’ve been meaning to bring back the train and this was the perfect opportunity for it. A scenic route’s the perfect way to escape from monotony and let your mind wander without putting too much effort into it.

Also, Daisy Jane enjoys long train rides as she’s the kind of artist who breaks out a sketchbook to capture the view outside her window. It’s amazing what she can do with a pen (yes, she uses a ballpoint pen and does so with full confidence) and paper. It would be a shame to see her talent and passion go to waste.

The train ride was super relaxing and beautiful to look at. Of course, it didn’t solve Daisy Jane’s problems, but it was a good retreat. I can tell by how much her eyes lit up that she’s feeling a lot better than she had in a long time. I had suggested that she bring her sketchbook along as well as a pen (no pencil, because that’s now how Daisy Jane works!) and that did wonders for her.

I never thought that the sight of Daisy Jane scribbling in her sketchbook with ink stained hands would bring me as much joy as it did tonight. I’m pretty sure she filled about half the book in the span of a couple hours.

Creativity can be fickle. Sometimes it flows in a steady stream, sometimes it comes and goes, and other times it goes into a drought before flooding back like a storm. The latter is what describes Daisy Jane. Hopefully the storm will lead to a steady flow of inspiration. After all, you can’t keep the tide from coming in, even after a long dry spell.

The night’s still young and there’s still so much to see. It’s just me and Daisy Jane in the train but it feels like we’re in different worlds. There she is, scribbling away, capturing the views outside her window. Jagged shapes for mountains, curving lines for rivers, scattered stars bringing a night sky to life - even in rough sketches, you can tell it’s unmistakably Daisy Jane.

A train ride won’t solve all of Daisy Jane’s problems, but it’s a start.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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lockdownuk · 3 years

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Lockdown Diary Part 11

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 301: Up at 1pm after a good few bevvies last night. usual Saturday stuff but my walk was astop/start affair due to yet more flooding.

Facebook today informed me that Karen Wyles died suddenly. It really shocked me. I saw Guy and Gail while out walking (nice to bump into them and chat) and they told me it was a heart attack! I sent K a WhatsApp just in case she’d not heard. I put a few words on FB. I had known Karen for a long time and, while I took the piss a lot, she was a friend (that I often didn’t deserve) and a good person....I felt a responsibility to say something nice as a small homage.

During the week I ordered new boots (since my Merrells are fucked after only few months but I am getting my money back) and, today, I also ordered McKenzie Attwood trainers (£20 cheap as fuck from JD Sports sale), slippers and jogging bottoms from Amazon.

Now I am going to have pizza, drink, smoke and watch The Equalizer 2 (for the umpteenth time - I watched the first one last night). I could watch Tenet - Miles has given me his Amazon login details, which is pretty fucking cool of him, but I’m not in the mood.

Posh beat MK 3-0 at home. I fucking love beating them. It’s extremely satisfying.

Right, it’s Saturday, it’s nearly 9pm, time I got on it.

Day 302: Not the most mental night last night but still 4am-ish when I went to bed, so I am very pleased to type that I was up before my alarm this morning. But, also, as I type, at gone 10pm, I am fucking knackered. Just about to tuck into spicy-as-fuck sauasage casserole, wtach MotD2 and then bed!

Day 303: Slippers arrived today but they’re going back. Too tight in the left foot. I’m not wearing slippers in FFS!

Day 304: New trainers (McKenzie Attwoods) arrived. Now, this footwear I shall keep. £20, bargain.

Posh came from a goal down to beat Charlton at home 2-1. Nice.

I made some veg soup today and, quite frankly, it’s fucking stupidly chilli-fied. Barely edible.

Day 305: New trainers are sweet - wore them for my morning exercise routine. Pretty comfy - after a few wears, they’ll be ace, I think.

Got served notice on the house on Monday (why I didn’t enter that on day 303, I do not know). Lynda, from Woodfords, says a semi-detached place in Havelock Cottages is coming up that looks promising. I contacted Emily at Aspire today, there’s a two bed terrace in Basset Place coming up so i am looking at that on Monday. Choice of 2 I do hope! First is £700 pm, second £725.

Day 306: Flipping frustrating “nothing works” day at work, It’s been like it all year so far. Tbf, Sueanne gets it and is quite supportive, even though she dives in when I’ve been dealing with problems that drag on! It’s Thursday, I can’t wait for tomorrow and, I am all to aware, I am wishing what little life I have left away.

Spoke with dad, he had his first vaccination jab on Tuesday in Spalding - he said it was a very efficient process (he was full of praise) and that the jab itself was no bother, with no after effects apart from a slightly sore arm. Excellent!

Day 307: Not even one beer (Saporro) in, and I feel wasted. A toke has helped.

Day 308: New Scarpa boots arrived today and, while they will need some wearing in, I did the stair climb and a 45min walk in them. I think they are going to be ace. Just as well as the Merrells are falling apart.

I have decided to listen to the Rush back catalogue, 2112 (4th) is playing as I type. It’s been a trip down memory lane and a bloody good one!

I had a few beers last night, as yesterday’s entry confirms, which included a video catch up with Fog, Ham and Andy P. Gonna chat with Fog later tonight as well.

I watched King of Statten Island last night. I liked it but, in some parts, it was smultzy as hell, rendering it a 6/10. Later, I’m watching Outside the Wire and eating pizza. Can’t wait!

I reset my mobile yesterday ‘cos it’s been playing up. What a fucking ball ache, logging on to all the different apps, all the little settings you get so used to, only to miss them when set back to defaults. Things like the camera settings - photo size and watermark....ooooh, just realised, ‘first world problems’! Get a grip, Tim!

Day 309: SNOW! Thick and crisp and uneven. I walked 11.9km in it today and it fucking well knackered me out. The old Merrells held their own in the snow as well, totally waterproof and, for such a light boot, remarkably warm. I will actually be sorry to see them go.

Danny sent me a link to a free week’s worth of receipes from Hello Fresh (he’s nuts for it) so I and ordered one, worth nearly £40!

Posh won away from home yesterday at Ipswich. Now, get this: the stats on the BBC’s report showed Posh had no shots on target but still won 0-1. How, might one ask? Own goal, that’s how. Piss funny!

Day 310: I am aching today. Walking in the snow yesterday certainly exercised different muscles than walking in mud. And, today, I walked less than normal, usual lunchtime but only 4km (instead of 8) in the evening.

‘Cos of the snow, the woman from Aspire cried off showing me around 3 Bassett Place. At first I was well pissed off but, looking at the roads and traffic situation around Oundle, it was the right decision (she’d have had to get here from Nassington - a bit treacherous),

It’s just gone 8pm. I am going to eat and go to bed. It’s too fucking cold even with the heating on!

Day 311: Rearranged the viewing of Bassett Place tomorrow - I rang them ‘cos I saw it advertised on Facebook, FFS! My walk tonight was mad...melting snow, rain/sleet, ice made for fucking hard work. Plus, since I am wearing in the new Scarpas, I wore the Merrells. The right boot is now, most definitely not waterproof! Got home about 8pm, changed bed sheets, showered and made diner...bloody knackered. It’s now 11pm and I am off to beddy byes.

Day 312: Viewed Bassett Place and I really like it. It is advertised at £750pm but Emily (from Aspire) said it was £725. Sarah, who showed me round said there may be some leeway for the right tenant so i’ve asked if it could be done for £700. If so, I’ll take it. It’s a large two bed mid terrace, bigger than here (36, East Road), similar type place, just what I want. Fingers crossed.

Day 313: Having slept on it, I do believe I definitely want 3 Bassett Place. I phone Sarah at Apsire to say as much. She told me she’d forwarded my details and offer to the landlord and is waiting to hear. As yesterday, fingers crossed.

I couldn’t take the pic of the field for the Morning Walk album, too flooded due to melting snow. On that note, my new boots are getting worn in both by wear and by superficial looks, it’s that filthy out there. I need to clean them. I wonder that, if I’d cleaned the Merrells, they might have lasted a bit longer. That being said, no amount of cleaning would have save the soles from wearing as thin as quickly as they did.

Day 314: Typing on Day 315. I didn’t get Bassett Place, the landlord gave it to a couple who offerred full asking price. To say I was fucked off is an understatement. I phoned Emily to let her know as much. Tbf, she explained that the snow (delaying my original viewing) wasn’t her fault and that she is at the mercy of the landlord. Fair enough, when I heard her POV. But, I am still gutted. I should have gone for the full £750!

Glad the working week is over (I am really wishing my life away so far this year).

Long walk to Cotterstock - amazing light behind the clouds with a wolf moon (which I just looked up - full moon, basically) - I just wish I was a bit better at night photography, or at least the camera on the Mi9 was. However, once I tweak them a bit and post them, the feed back is usually good. In fact, I posted one on the move last night and someone on FB has asked if they can paint it!

Meatballs for tea and beers.

I have decided, when the year of this log is up, that I’ll end it (the diary, not my life, though that dark thought is never far away!). I have reached this decision because, while this diary is really only for me, it is as boring as fuck, really. I’ll continue to write a log but randomly, when the day’s events warrant it. It’ll be on the main Tumblr.

Day 315: Typing this on day 316. Up at 1pm-ish. Morning exercise routine, long walk curtailed by flooding (again!) more beers, smokes and trash food. Posh lost 2-0 away to Shrewsbury (a bit of a bogey team).

Day 316: Up at 1pm yet again. I really didn't feel like any exercise but I did the usual regardless. Google Fit isn’t fucking working!

I have got to start stopping these ridiculously late Friday and Saturday nights. My weekend is over before it’s begun. This coming Friday, I am not going to do the really long walk in the evening that i have become accustomed to - just a 8km one that I do most evening, and then start drinking earlier so as to go to bed early. If I can get out of bed in the Saturday morning, perhaps do a couple of long walks so as to get the weekly steps up.

Day 317: My left foot, during my lunchtime walk, killed. I must have sopped and undone & redone my laces 6 times. Dunno wtf is going on with the Scarpas. I wore my Merrells for the evening walk. I tried to got to Cotterstock but it was too flooded on the road just before the bridge!

Ordered new joggers, a boot brush and some new wireless earbuds (Mifo 05 plus Gen 2 - bought them off eBay -I hope they are the real deal, it’s the very latest spec and £74.99 instead of £89.99 from the Mifo website).

Day 318: I went shopping at 10.15pm mainly for pizza and party food since I have booked Monday off because it’s the Superbowl (Tampa vs Kansas) and booze! No fucking Sapporo. It was eerie shopping that late at the superstore in Corby. Boots still hurting (Merrells in the evening). Day 319: New ear buds arrived. Well impressed. So did the boot brush (BootBuddy) - on that note, boots weren’t so bad at lunchtime. I didn’t wear them in the evening but I think it’s just a ‘wearing them in’ thing, hopefully.

Day 320: Hello Fresh delivery day. I had pork and chipotle black bean tacos with pickled red onion, chipotle tomatoes and lettuce. It’s a good set up, decent ingredients and nice recipe sheets...but I don't need it, I’m good enough in the kitchen. And, I am no fan of minced pork. I am not being a fair judge though. Today, my sugars have been all over the place over 21 and under 2 mmol/L. I nearly fell asleep trying to recover from a low before my evening walk. When I got back (soaked - it was pissing down), I was over 21 by the time I had cooked it all....puts me off actually eating, even though I have to! Rang Barry Haddon today, to see how he is. I think he’s OK but, strangely, told me, during conversation, that he’s 77 years old. I don't think so! I also texted Posh Dave. I think he’s struggling being on his own (he lost mum and dad last year, I think). I must make more contact with him. I might call him over the weekend.

Day 321: Typing on Day 322 (well, 1am on day 323 actually). It was nice finishing work knowing I have Monday off. I also din’t do an extra long walk this evening as with most Fridays. Cooked the send Hello fresk meal, Mango chicken tacos -diced chicken thighs - it was alright. Rog video called so had a good chat with him and I invited Foggy to it (he was at his cousin John’s funeral today), so the three of us chewed the cud for a bit. I then went onto get fucking shitfaced. I couldn’t make it to bed with low sugars, lying on the runner rug, fell asleep, got up and could only make it top the living room rug..I felt so dodgy but I was too fucked and too full to even take more than a swig of coke. I think I’m going to fall asleep one drunken night, slip into a coma and then die. I can think of worse ways to go. Day 322: Typing very late, it’s actually Sunday morning, 1.07am. I got out of bed at gone 2.30pm today. I managed my morning routine and a 8km walk (in the Scarpas, they are getting more comfortable since my episode of pain a few days ago; definitely a wearing in process). No booze after last night’s debacle. I am going to hit it during the Superbowl tomorrow though. The Hello fresh meal tonight was pasta chicken bake with pepper and courgette. Fucking lovely and I coudln’t eat it all. I’ve lerant that adding creme fresh to pasta, whacking it on top of meat and sauce on a casserole bowl and baking it for 15 minutes is the way to go. I watched The Dig tonight. It’s a good film but fucking glum. Posh won at home to Crewe today, 2-0. They are now 4th. Day 323:Bright as a button today, up at around 11:00am despite switch in the bedroom light off at just before 3am. Today’s walk was fucking hard work. It’s wintry, the wind was keen, strong and full of icy particles just not quite sleet. The fields between Park Wood and Monson Way were bloody tough. One wrong foot and you’d slip over. I did about 10 km; it took over 2 hours and felt like twice the distance. I’ve just eaten Hello Fresk teryaki mince. It was good. One beer in, a film (probably One Night in Miami) and then Superbowl time. Day 324: The Superbowl was good. Tampa beat Kansas 31-9. The second half was a damp squib since Kansas never made a go of it. Tom Brady won his 7th ring. He is to American football what Federer is to tennis. The Weeknd half time show was excellent. So, it was about 4am I went to bed, nicely pissed. Up at just after 1pm. Exercise, omelette, long walk, done some washing. About to make the last Hello Fresh meal and watch One Night in Miami which I didn’t manage last night. Richard sent me a message (screen shot of a) house up for shared ownership in Oundle (Sharmann & Quinney) - I need to look into what that is all about.

Day 325: Shared ownership isn’t straightforward and, actually, I have discovered that I need to look at something call ‘older persons shared ownership’ when I hit 55. Jon at work wants me to get involved in two additional pieces of work, he told me at the SUMO today (Sueanne is off) - he did say that “that’s what happens if you have a day off! Finished the last of the Hello Fresh (last night’s sausage bolognese including homemade garlic bread using a Tiger loaf from Co-Op which was reduced to 28p. I didn’t watch One Night in Miami last night. Shock. Day 326: I spoke with Lynda from Woodfords yesterday, viewing 13 Havelock Cottages tomorrow. Also, yesterday, Posh beat Ipswich 2-1 at home. They came from behind. Ipswich have never beaten Posh away. Simon Banwell posted on FB berating some new legislation whereby potentially people who travel and lie about it (the destination) are liable for 10 years in prison. His gripe is people get less for murder. I am beyond words...the potential for mass deaths of such actions! I tried to argue that case but it is, as always on social media, flogging a dead horse. Rachel Harris jumped on Simon’s bandwagon whereas Tim Francis posted a ‘well said’ to me (I think it’s genuine). Day 327: Carrying on directly from above; Candice Bellingsea, Rachel’s niece, Carla’s daughter, was also ‘vocal’ in defence of Simon’s post, joining in with the clamour for relaxation of lockdown (at the expense of safety) - citing more people commit suicide because of the mental pressure than die of covid. Well, today, I investigated and posted a FB status to poo-poo such claims. It felt good (and right) to address Candice’s ridiculous post albeit, I didn’t call her out directly but did have part of her comment on Simon’s post directly quoted in my status. I went to see 13 Havelock today. It’s OK. Not perfect but more than alright. When I left there I was very much in two minds but now, at 10:30pm, the place is growing on me. Still part of me thinks to hold out - I have got around 5 month’s notice left - but, if I let it go (and Lynda from Woodford’s has already said the landlord is happy for me to move in), I might regret it. I keep thinking of 3 Bassett Place though...if only I had said yes to £750 straightaway. That place would be perfect, I reckon. One major concern with 13 is the neighbours. There’s no way I could have my usual Friday and Saturday night revelry. But...I’ll sleep on it. I have only just finished doing some work - pissing about with Smartview Essbase (with Simon Welch’s help - he’s a bloody good bloke - no need to be so helpful, but he’s more than happy to be) - I sent him a Teams message to arrange a catch up tomorrow with some questions I have regarding the installation - he only bloody answered - working as late as I am! I have managed to watch some of One Night in Miami. Going to finish it now with a dirty, microwave hamburger for tea.

Day 328: Typing on day 329. Usual Friday but not so mad in the evening. One Night in Miami was good. For Friday’s viewing I chose Greenland. Not so good. Only 4 beers and two spliffs. I’m getting old! Day329: Up at 1pm, usual exercise including a long old walk. It included walking along the river (Oundle Mill bridge to the marina) for the fist time this year. The floods are in evidence but, obviously, receded enough to get through - that, or the resulting water, mud and boginess is frozen. I really enjoyed it today but it was freezing - the wind was evil at certain points. Tea’s on the go, beer in hand and I am going to watch War Dogs. Posh’s game was off today due to a frozen pitch. Day 330: Typing on day 331. It wasn’t a mad Saturday night but mad enough to not be up until gone midday. Another nice long walk, Walk and eat is all I really do nowadays. I can’t even muster any enthusiasm to do housework since I am going to be out of here soon. I called Posh Dave in the evening. It was good to chat and I think he appreciated the call. He’s on his own and struggling, I get the impression. He told me both Matt Baxter (bowel) and Adi Mowles (neck) are undergoing treatment for cancer.

#diary #Tumblr diary #lockdown #COVID19 #lockdownuk

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cuthian · 4 years

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Starting Over Chapter One

Welcome to the second-to-last installment of this series (probably, honestly, I didn't mean for there to be as many parts as there are already)!

This fic is focused on both Thor and Steve's journeys, and sets the scene for the main fic, the one that follows this one, the one you've all been waiting for :) There are two chapters fully focused on Thor's journey, so should you wish to skip those, check the notes at the top of the chapter! I'll definitely mention them :)

I expect I'll update this once a week (it's fully written) and hopefully will be able to upload the final installment after I've posted the final chapter of this one!

As always, much love and gratitude to my lovely Juulna, who dragged me through all of this, and kicks my ass into gear when it's needed.

Let us know what you think!

Love, Annaelle

Starting Over

Sometimes, the hardest part isn’t letting go, but rather starting over.

—Nicole Sovaugn

Chapter One

RUMORED CELEBRITY COUPLES WE ALL *HOPE* ARE REAL

The celebrity rumor mill is always churning. While it is mostly tittle-tattle, there are certain romance “news” items that, in our heart of hearts, we’re dying to be true. From co-stars with unbelievable chemistry to sure-to-be-legendary duos, here are the pairs we have our fingers crossed for.

10. Nikki Reed & Ian Somerhalder

[...]share a common interest in playing vampires—with Reed’s Rosalie in Twilight to Somerhalder’s Damon in The Vampire Diaries—but also have several common friends. Both are close with Nina Dobrev—Somerhalder’s ex-girlfriend—and Ashley Greene[…]supposed reports of their developing relationship since July, and they have adopted a horse together.

[…]as of yet no official confirmations have been made.

[…]

7. Natasha Romanoff & Steve Rogers

[…] Rogers and Romanoff have been spotted out together on several occasions, ranging from coffee runs—such mundane activity for such extraordinary people—to trips to Coney Island and Avengers Tower[…]The outings have set many tongues wagging, implying a scandalous relationship between the Captain and his Avengers co-worker, despite official, repeated statements that Captain Rogers is still grieving his former life and is not interested in forming romantic attachments.

[…]Captain was also linked to former Army Captain Rebecca Barnes, before she confirmed her own relationship—see No 2 on this list![…]whatever is going on between Captain America and the women in his life, one thing is certain: we would all like to be rescued by this star-spangled man with a plan!

[…]

5. Zac Efron & Leah Michelle

[…]big surprise for everyone! These two have known one another for several years, but have recently been photographed packing on the PDA on a yacht in Italy in July[…]possibly nothing more than a summer fling, but a reliable source told E!online that Efron likes that she is laid-back and he can relate to her. He is, apparently, attracted to her great attitude, and they understand one another.

[…]

2. Rebecca Barnes & Thor of Asgard

This surprise couple accidentally got caught on camera in a picture posted to Tony Stark’s Twitter account on the 4th of July last year[…]emphasis on “accidental”, considering the couple was only barely visible in a corner of the picture that featured almost all of the Avengers.

[…]lo and behold, it clearly showed Rebecca Barnes, seated on a barstool next to who appears to be Captain Rogers, wrapped in an intimate embrace with none other than the Prince of Asgard, looking real cozy together. Gotcha!

[…]picture remained on Tony Stark’s Twitter account without further comment from any of the Avengers for 72 hours before a press conference was held to confirm the relationship between the two, though insistences were made on their relationship remaining casual for now. “They’re having fun, they like each other, but neither of them wants to be in a serious relationship right now.”

Casual seems to be working for the couple though, because all appearances point to them still being together two years after their first press conference!

[…]only confirmed couple on this list!

—M.S. Sura, E! Magazine, « Rumoured Celebrity Couples », July 2013

————————

Washington D.C., United States of America

August 9th, 2015 – 5:19 AM

Steve

Steve liked going for a run in the morning.

When he and Becca had first moved to D.C., he had felt at a loss—he’d never really lived anywhere but in New York, and D.C. had felt like an unknown entity, nothing like the city he’d been born and raised in. It was… It was quieter, in a way, less crowded and less intense than New York had been, and Steve had both hated and loved it with equal measure during their first few weeks there.

Running in the morning had been something Karen the therapist had suggested when he’d originally confessed to feeling antsy and cooped up when there were no missions to be done, and no bad guys to fight.

It’d become a way to blow off steam, to get rid of the horrid feeling of inactivity, and to get to know the city he’d be living in for the foreseeable future. Becca hadn’t really understood—nor had Steve expected her to, considering it would’ve involved leaving her bed before she absolutely had to—and though Thor, bless him, had done his very best to give it a try, he really didn’t understand the appeal of running without chasing something.

Steve, however, loved it.

Running was one of the very few activities where he could let go of all restraint and just go, without having to worry that he was going to hurt someone, or break something irreparably. Running allowed him to test the very limit of the serum without truly having to worry, and it was a feeling so incredibly freeing it made him feel dizzy the first time he’d realized.

He’d learned to appreciate D.C. for its own merits, over time. He loved New York and he would always consider Brooklyn home in a way nowhere else could be, but here… Here he could walk down the street without getting pulled aside for selfies and autographs constantly. He could run for hours without paparazzi not-so-subtly trying to sneak pictures of him.

He could visit Peggy, who had—very reluctantly—taken up residence in a care home close to his and Becca’s house, after a nasty fall that broke the femur bone in her left leg in two places.

New York was not so very far away either, and when they wanted to visit Tony and the others, the flight there usually didn’t take them very long. Steve felt more settled here, and much less anchored in the past, than he had in New York, although it had taken him a long time to admit it.

Of course, it wasn’t like Steve loved everything about their life in D.C. He’d initially loved the job, and the way it gave him a sense of purpose in his life, but the intensity of some of the Agents put him off, and he decidedly disliked the way everyone had had set expectations of who and what he was supposed to be—both as a leader in the field and as a person.

He loathed the way Fury treated him sometimes, for that matter, like he was some dumb kid who didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. He hated when Fury sent him on missions with people who had their own missions, when he was expected to lead people who had their own agendas and their own timetables.

He especially disliked the agents that Fury had set to tail him at all times—he wasn’t supposed to know they were there, but it seemed they’d all conveniently forgotten he was good friends with the Black Widow and Hawkeye, and that he lived with Becca Barnes, who had the uncanny ability to spot agents, no matter how well they disguised themselves.

He hated them, but, over the course of the past four years of living in the 21st century, two of which he’d spent working with S.H.I.E.L.D., he’d learned to pick his battles. There were bigger things going on in his life than trying to figure out which hapless idiot they’d sent to try to tail him on his run today.

There was, for instance, a new guy—not an agent, Steve thought—running on his preferred route.

Steve didn’t tend to run the same route every day, because he’d get bored and probably run into a tree or something, and he didn’t quite fancy the idea of having to explain to Fury—or worse, Tony—why there were gossip rags with the headline “Captain America Can’t Handle Morning Wood” or something equally ridiculous.

Also, by changing up his route regularly, he was able to figure out how long it took S.H.I.E.L.D. to figure out where he was. The longest it had ever taken them was fifteen minutes, and Steve was pretty sure they’d only figured him out because he’d stopped to take a phone call from Becca.

This route, though, starting at the World War II memorial, crossing Inlet Bridge and going past the Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials, was one of Steve’s favorites to run. It took him past his favorite sites in the city, and ended whenever he ran past the cute little bakery a few blocks from the Holocaust Memorial Museum with the best croissants he’d had on this side of the Atlantic. There weren’t usually a lot of people around at this time of morning, because Steve could admit that he was slightly overzealous when it came to running in the morning—as in leaving before the sun was up, and not coming back until at least two hours later—and it was easy to notice when there was a new fellow maniac who liked to exercise before dawn.

Steve let his eyes trail over said new maniac’s back appreciatively.

He definitely looked good.

He felt a pang of guilt—much less debilitating than the stifling sense of dread and guilt and horror it had once been—and shook his head, pushing himself to run a little faster, to pass this new, cute, unknown entity and leave him behind, because for all that Steve was doing pretty well, he didn’t think he was ready to acknowledge when he actively thought someone was cute.

It was different than when he went on dates because Natasha set him up. Those were nearly always women, and much as Steve appreciated Nat’s effort, they were never into him for him.

That, in itself, was enough of a turn off.

The fact that they were absolutely never his type was just an easy excuse to give Nat when there were, inevitably, no second dates. This, though, he thought as he caught up to Cute Fellow Maniac… this felt different.

“On your left,” he bit out as he ran past New Cute Fellow Maniac, barely allowing himself a glance to look at the other guy, refusing to see, because that would mean he actively liked someone who wasn’t Bucky, and he wasn’t sure he could do that.

He’d talked about that with Karen-the-therapist at length too.

After he’d seen Thor make an effort to let go of his promise to only ever love Loki, to give his relationship with Becca an honest chance, he’d wondered, because he’d been convinced that Thor was the only person Steve had ever met that understood.

He’d understood why Steve just… couldn’t.

Why the very thought of being in love with someone other than Bucky made him feel sick to his stomach, like he’d be betraying everything he had shared with Bucky, like he’d be making a mockery of Bucky’s memory if he did allow himself to move on. Going on dates with women had been much easier than this, because… well, they were women.

For all that Steve was hopeless when it came to flirting with them—or even just talking to them—they didn’t run much of a risk of reminding him of Bucky. It wasn’t so very hard to not give them a chance.

He knew it was poor manners, to give a lady hope where there was none, but… it got his friends off his back, and it was easy to let it all wash over him.

Men, though…

He knew Bucky would hate that Steve felt that way, and that he might even be insulted to learn Steve hadn’t tried to fuck his way through the 21st century in his name yet, because Bucky had been nothing if not a realist (and also a horny bastard), and whereas Steve had been—still was—optimistic enough to believe he could spend his entire life loving just the one person, Bucky had… Bucky had said things that made Steve think—now, in hindsight—that he’d never really believed he’d make it out of the war.

Maybe he’d always known Steve would, eventually, have to move on.

Steve sighed and slowed down, eyeing the split in the path that came up ahead of him contemplatively. The left branch would loop him back to roughly where he’d seen Cute New Maniac, and might give him a second chance.

The other…

“Come on, Rogers,” he told himself firmly. “Make an effort.”

He took the left path.

————————

Washington D.C., United States of America

6.03 AM

Steve

Alright, so maybe he hadn’t stopped to talk to Cute New Maniac right away.

He watched, slightly amused, as the other man limped his way to a patch of grass and collapsed back against a tree, wheezing a little. Steve felt a little bad—just a little—but then, he hadn’t made the other man try to race him.

Honestly, after the third time Steve had lapped him, Cute New Maniac should really have realized that he wouldn’t actually be able to keep up with Steve even if he did try.

Which he did.

It hadn’t really gone his way.

“You need a medic?” he blurted before he could think about it, moving towards where the other man sat with a grin that was probably just the right side of smug. Steve felt a little gratified when the other man laughed, shaking his head a little before he replied.

“I need a new set of lungs.” He laughed and pushed himself up a little, glancing towards Steve with a smirk. “You just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes.”

Steve grinned a little.

It wasn’t like he could come right out and say he looped around four times with the express purpose of seeing Cute New Maniac again, so he shrugged, putting his hands on his hips in a way he knew accentuated the contrast between his broad shoulders and narrow hips. “Guess I got a late start,” he quipped cheekily.

“Really?” Cute Maniac laughed. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You should—you should take another lap.” Steve couldn’t stop grinning, cheeks burning and heart pumping fast with exhilaration, even as the cute guy looked away for a second, before he looked back and rolled his eyes.

“Did you just take it? I assume you just took it.”

Steve outright laughed at that, shaking his head a little before he gestured to the dog tags that had slipped from underneath the guy’s sweater. “What unit were you in?”

He saw the minute stiffening of Cute Maniac’s posture before he relaxed again, and felt momentarily bad for asking, but before he could take it back, Cute Maniac replied, “58th Pararescue. But now I’m working down at the V.A.” Before Steve could do more than nod, Cute Maniac held out his hand, wiggling his fingers insistently until Steve grasped it in his and pulled him to his feet.

“Sam Wilson,” Cute Maniac—Sam, a voice in Steve’s head that sounded suspiciously like Bucky insisted—offered, smiling when Steve floundered a little.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve finally said, grinning shyly. This was usually the point where people either freaked out and started treating him like… well, like Captain America. Steve hadn’t hoped someone wouldn’t this badly in quite a while.

“I kinda put that together,” Sam grinned, fingers lingering on Steve’s for a second longer than strictly appropriate, and Steve’s stomach swooped. “Must’ve freaked you out,” Sam continued, and Steve’s stomach sank, because he knew what those next words were going to be before Sam even said them out loud. “Coming home after the whole defrosting thing. “

Steve heaved a sigh and shrugged. “Took some getting used to.”

He swallowed thickly against the disappointment that curdled in his stomach and shot Sam a small, insincere smile. “It’s good to meet you, Sam.” He turned away before Sam could say anything that would make Steve’s stomach ache harder than it already did, becauseof course, the one time he decided to take a chance, the guy turned out like everyone else.

“It’s your bed, right?”

Steve stopped, turning around with no small sense of bewilderment as he looked at Sam. “What’s that?” he said cautiously, eyeing the other man nervously. He wasn’t sure if Sam was being dense, or if he was blatantly trying to come onto Steve, but it made him feel off-balance, and Steve hated feeling off-balance.

“Your bed,” Sam repeated, raising both eyebrows. “It’s too soft. When I was over there, I’d sleep on the ground, use rocks as pillows.” Steve turned towards Sam fully, now intrigued and a little relieved, hoping he might’ve misjudged. “Now I’m home,” Sam continued, “lying in my bed, and it’s like…”

He shook his head, apparently at a loss for words.

“Like lying on a marshmallow,” Steve finally finished for him. “Feels like I’m gonna sink right through to the floor.”

Sam smiled a little and nodded.

It was a cute smile too, damn him.

“How long?” he asked, eyeing Sam carefully. He figured he could get away with asking something similar to Sam’s earlier question, and it wasn’t that he doubted that the other man had served, but…

It just felt different knowing.

“Two tours,” Sam answered curtly, although he didn’t appear all that put out by the question.

Steve swallowed and nodded tightly. Though Sam hadn’t specified, from what Steve understood, two tours could mean anywhere from a year to eight years total, and Steve couldn’t imagine being out there for that long, even with a break in the middle, without losing his mind. It’d baffled him during the war too, seeing European soldiers of various countries that had been fighting for literal years without stopping, refusing to give up.

He’d both admired them and felt incredibly sorry for them.

“You must miss the way things were,” Sam finally said, cautiously, as though Steve would explode if the past was mentioned. If this had been three years ago, Steve might’ve. He would’ve put on a brave face, but the reminder of the life that had been torn from him would’ve sent him spiraling and heading for the hills to lick his wounds in private, and he was mature enough—now—to know that.

As it stood, Steve had been in intense therapy since his breakdown four years ago, and he’d learned to deal with his grief in far more healthy ways.

“It’s not so bad here,” Steve shrugged. “Food’s so much better. I need to eat a ton, because—” he gestured towards his body sheepishly and blushed when Sam smirked. “Back then, getting enough calories was horrible. We boiled everything, and the stuff that did have what I needed was barely edible at all.” He grinned and added, “Internet’s great too. Super helpful. Becca showed me how to use it back when I first woke up. Definitely read that a lot, trying to catch up.”

Sam nodded, raising an eyebrow. “Becca’s the roommate, right? Your guy’s grandniece or something, right? Freaked out every gossip rag from here to L.A. when you two moved here, to D.C., together. Big scandal.”

Steve sighed and shook his head. “I remember. Ridiculous. Becca’s one of my best friends. Currently dating one of my other best friends.” He wrinkled his nose and shook his head, because much as he loved Thor and Becca, he really didn’t like to think too much about it. He’d walked in on them one time too many to still be casual about it.

“Yeah,” Sam smirked. “I remember seeing that revelation around too.”

Steve winced a little.

Everyone remembered that particular Fourth of July. Tony still felt bad about it.

“So,” Sam said, smiling lightly, “You doing anything fun today?”

Steve saw it for the change of subject that it was and grasped at it eagerly—maybe a little too eagerly. “Hopefully you,” he blurted, blanching when his brain caught up with his mouth, wincing at Sam’s slightly stunned expression. “I mean—that’s not—I wasn’t trying to—”

He gave up on his spluttered explanation when Sam burst into laughter, hiding his face—cheeks burning with an increasingly embarrassed blush—in his hands. He didn’t look up until Sam reached out and put his hand on Steve’s arm, gently pushing it down so Steve would be forced to look at him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam grinned, winking when Steve dared to look directly at him again. “I mean, you should definitely buy me a drink first, but it’s good to know I wasn’t imagining that you were flirting.” He looked momentarily confused and then asked, “I wasn’t, right?”

“No,” Steve admitted breathlessly, feeling more than a little overwhelmed by the idea that he’d actually managed to ask someone out—sort of—and that said someone had actually returned his interest.

What the fuck.

Stuff like this didn’t happen to Steve—he was the hopeless single friend.

Willingly.

Sam smiled—a real, bright smile that made Steve’s stomach do another funky flop—and bit his lower lip. “Well then. You gonna ask for my number, Rogers?”

“Right!” Steve blurted, fumbling to get his phone from his pocket without accidentally tossing it across the damned park. Sam took it from him with an indulgent smile, and Steve was pretty sure his face was stuck somewhere between bewilderment and soppy admiration, and he wasn’t sure…

Well, he wasn’t sure what to do now.

“There,” Sam handed his phone back and raised an eyebrow. “You better call me, Rogers. I ain’t one for getting stood up, even by a superhero.”

Steve nodded eagerly. “I will, definitely, I just—” His phone buzzed in his hand, and he frowned when he recognized Nat’s S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued number. Nat only used that number to call him when they were being called in for a mission.

“Duty calls,” he said ruefully, wiggling his phone at Sam. “I’m sorry. Thanks for the run though.” He grinned and winked, “If that’s what you wanna call running.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Sam exclaimed indignantly, although there was no real heat to his words.

“That’s how it is.”

“O-okay,” Sam chuckled. “You better call me when you get back.”

Steve nodded dumbly, not turning away until he heard the familiar engine roar of Nat’s favorite Corvette—because of course she’d tracked his phone instead of waiting for his reply, damn those spies—grinning sheepishly at Sam’s raised eyebrow. “Can’t run everywhere.”

“No, you can’t,” Sam agreed, smirking when Steve awkwardly tried to fit himself into the small seat—he swore that was at least half of the reason Nat always picked him up in this thing.

“Hey fellas,” Nat grinned, baring all her teeth with a predatory gleam in her eye as she looked at Sam.

“No,” Steve said firmly, before she could do or say anything that would make Sam realize Steve was a goddamned disaster and he should run while he still had the chance. He frowned at her, and when that didn’t have much of a visible effect, he pouted.

Her expression softened, and Steve barely managed to keep from grinning.

Worked like a charm. Every damned time.

“I’ll call you,” he told Sam, offering him a quick smile, before he turned back to Nat, putting thoughts of Sam and the conversation and the potential date in his future out of his mind, focusing entirely on the folder Nat had tossed onto his lap and resolutely ignoring her attempts to pick apart what little she’d seen of his interaction with Sam.

“What do we have?”

————————

EXCLUSIVE: CAPTAIN AMERICA MOVING IN WITH DEAD BEST FRIEND’S GRAND-NIECE?

Captain America, also known as Steve Rogers, and Rebecca Barnes—granddaughter to Rogers’ late best friend’s little sister—aremoving in together, but they are most definitely not in a relationship, despite an absurd tabloid report.

Gossip Cop can exclusively correct the story and report that it’s completely false.

According to OK!USA, our favorite supersoldier is moving out of the Avengers Tower to follow Barnes to Washington D.C., where they’re “on the hunt for a love pad”. An alleged insider tells the magazine that Thor and Barnes, who were recently accidentally ‘outed’ by Tony Stark, have split up because of the “deep, intense feelings” between the Captain and the youngest Barnes.

“They’re both so attracted to one another,” says a supposed source, who further contends that the other Avengers and the Barnes family “aren’t surprised Cap is following Becca to D.C. and that they’re looking for a home together.”

The outlet’s premise is flat-out ridiculous.

Just last Sunday, Thor joined Barnes and Rogers for dinner at Rebecca Barnes Sr.’s home.

The idea that Rebecca Jr. has dumped him for Captain Rogers is ludicrous. Additionally, the tabloid’s article is based on claims from an anonymous and untraceable “source,” but Gossip Cop reached out to Rogers’ spokesperson, who tells us on the record that it’s untrue. Despite what the magazine’s so-called “insider” claims, a rep qualified to speak on the Captain’s behalf assures us he and Barnes aren’t a couple, and the relocation is funded and requested by S.H.I.E.L.D., where both Captain Rogers and Agent Barnes are employed.

[…]gossip media is constantly trying to create new milestones in the relationship between Captain Rogers and the females in his life, despite their relationship being friendly and professional. […] Last week, we busted another bogus report alleging the Black Widow might be pregnant with Rogers’ baby.

Earlier this week, Gossip Cop also shot down a phony article claiming that the Avengers were split between Barnes and the Black Widow, picking sides in a vicious fight for Rogers’ affection.[…]

This latest article involving the supposed lovers house-hunting together is yet more fiction.

—A. Shuster, Gossip Cop, « Captain America moving to D.C. with Rebecca Barnes?», August 2012

————————

Indian Ocean

11:08 PM (UCT+6.30)

Steve

He listened intently as Rumlow briefed them, eyeing the specs intently. Natasha stood beside him, brow equally furrowed in concentration, while Becca fiddled with her gloves, alternating between looking at Rumlow and the screen. Normally, Steve would try to scold her into paying attention, but by the time he and Nat had gotten to H.Q., Becca had already been debriefed and had several plausible plans ready for Steve to review once he’d been briefed on the jet.

He’d learned to value her insights on cases like these, because there was a reason she had made it to the rank of Captain in the Army at twenty-two, and he knew how hard it was for her to stand still.

“Any demands?” he inquired when Rumlow finished identifying the target and outlining the situation.

There hadn’t been when they’d left D.C., but that had been mere minutes after contact with the Lemurian Star had been lost—two and a half hours ago.

“Billion and a half,” Rumlow nodded curtly, facing Steve directly, preparing for the questions he likely knew were coming. They’d worked together quite a few times over the past few years, and Rumlow had learned to anticipate what info Steve needed to effectively plan a successful mission in minutes.

“Why so steep?”

Demands were all good and well in hostage situations, but no agency deploying simple satellites would be able to afford quite that much money on such short notice.

Rumlow looked surprised, for a moment, before admitting, “Because it’s S.H.I.E.L.D.’s.”

Steve barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes, quietly cursing Nick Fury in the back of his mind, and glanced towards Nat. “So it’s not off-course.” That’d been one of Becca’s theories; an attempt to explain what the ship would be doing this far out of international waters; why they’d been vulnerable to pirates in the first place.

“It’s trespassing,” Becca agreed, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning.

Rumlow looked like he wanted to say something—probably something derogatory that would make Steve want to punch him regardless of his professional competence—but Nat stepped in before he could. “I’m sure they have a good reason,” she offered, smiling winningly at Steve.

Steve did roll his eyes this time. “I’m getting real’ tired of being Fury’s janitor.”

He could’ve been having lunch, at home, right now. He could’ve asked Sam out for breakfast, could’ve tried to figure out if he could try dating without wanting to throw up at the mere thought of it.

Why did Fury always want him to clean up his own damned messes?

He turned back to Rumlow and gestured to go on. “How many pirates?”

“Twenty-five,” Rumlow replied immediately, pulling up several profiles of well-known international fugitives. “Top mercs, led by this guy.” He pulled up and enlarged a picture of a built man with a buzz cut and a dead-eyed expression Steve had seen in too many men in the service before.

“Georges Batroc,” Rumlow continued, “Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He’s at the top of Interpol’s Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions.” He looked Steve dead in the eye and frowned. “He’s got a rep for maximum casualties. It’s why they wanted to get rid of him in the first place.”

Steve nodded curtly. He wasn’t sure what a man like that would want with a S.H.I.E.L.D. vessel, but he was sure it couldn’t be anything good. “Hostages?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rumlow faltered, and Steve frowned, because that couldn’t be a surprise question—they’d been sent specifically to rescue said hostages. “Uh...” Rumlow stuttered. “Mostly techs. One officer.” He nodded towards Steve. “Jasper Sitwell. They’re in the galley.”

Steve knew of Sitwell.

He wasn’t terribly high up the chain of command, and certainly didn’t have security clearance as high as Steve and Natasha, but he wasn’t just another grunt worker either. From what Steve knew, he was one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s top mission handlers.

He dealt with junior S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that went on lesser undercover missions—had dealt with Becca’s undercover mission too, until Nat had unceremoniously usurped him. Steve had no clue what he’d be doing on a satellite launch platform.

“What the hell is Sitwell doing on a launch ship?” he mused, more to himself than to either Nat or Becca, before he shook his head and pushed the issue from his mind. Honestly, it didn’t matter what Sitwell was doing on the ship, it just mattered that Steve needed to get him and the techs off of it.

Safely.

“Alright,” he said briskly, glancing to his core team briefly. “I’m gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you kill the engines and wait for instruction. Rumlow, you sweep the aft and find the hostages, direct S.T.R.I.K.E. as you need them. Just get them to the life-pods, and get them out.” He glanced towards Becca and grinned. “Barnes, help Rumlow get into the galley and then cover my six.”

Becca grinned back and cheekily saluted him. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Let’s go.”

He followed Becca and Nat to the hold, taking the communicator Nat held out with a grin. “Secure channel seven,” he said into the communicator when he’d attached it to his wrist.

“Seven secure,” Nat replied, sidling up beside him with a smirk that predicted little good things for him. Usually conversations that started with Nat smirking at him like that ended with dreadfully boring dates with lovely dark-haired women that bore suspicious resemblance to both Bucky and Peggy.

“So,” Nat drawled. “Who was that positively gorgeous specimen you were talking to when I picked you up?” She raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. “Were you flirting, Steve?”

Becca popped up from behind one of the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents, her expression bordering on gleeful, and Steve barely repressed the urge to groan. He’d hoped to keep Sam to himself a little longer, at least until he had decided how he felt about the whole thing.

He should’ve known he would never be able to keep it under wraps with these two in his life.

That not mean that he wasn’t going to try, though.

“I’m not talking about this now,” he said firmly, shooting a glare at Becca when she had the gall to pout at him. Thankfully, the pilot’s voice interrupted the two women before they could pester him more, warning him of the drop zone coming up.

He ran his hand through his hair one more time before he pulled the helmet on, moving towards the loading bay as he did.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Becca piped on from behind him, snatching him by one of the straps on his suit and pulling him back with surprising ease—to everyone but Steve, who’d hoped she would let him get away with it this time. “Put on a fucking parachute, Rogers,” she bit out, shoving aforementioned parachute in his hands.

“Come on, Becs,” he wheedled. “I need to get in stealthily. The ‘chute ain’t covert. It’ll slow me down.”

Becca didn’t seem particularly impressed by his reasoning. “I’m not letting you jump out of a goddamn plane without a parachute, you moron.”

“You let Thor do it all the time,” Steve pointed out, smiling winningly, sneakily pushing the parachute into a hapless S.T.R.I.K.E. agent’s hands, stepping in front of the man to make sure Becca wouldn’t be able to see what he was doing.

Becca threw her hands up in exasperation and shoved at his shoulder, even as Steve moved back to the loading bay. “Thor can fly, Steve, he doesn’t need a parachute.”

Steve grinned at her over his shoulder, and winked at her. “Neither do I.”

He jumped.

————————

Lemurian Star, Indian Ocean

11:14 PM (UCT+6.30)

Steve

“Hostages en route to extraction,” Rumlow’s voice alerted Steve. “Barnes is on her way to you. Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap. Hostiles are still in play.”

He didn’t have eyes on Batroc anymore, and the entire ship had fallen suspiciously silent following his attempt to smash Batroc’s skull in with his shield. Of course, they did have standing orders to subdue the man, not kill him, but Steve had seen an opportunity and he’d taken it.

He’d rather be scolded for taking out a terrorist than risk the man getting out again.

Steve cursed under his breath before he replied, voice hushed, “Affirmative. Natasha, Batroc’s on the move. Circle back to Rumlow and protect the hostages.” There was no reply, and worry coiled in the pit of his stomach. He stopped, distracted, and lifted his arm to speak directly into the comm unit.

“Natasha?”

He didn’t see the attack coming.

He didn’t have time to do anything other than parry the volley of blows that came at him, faster and harder than anyone he’d fought in recent history. He was bowled over by the sheer viciousness of the attack, and before he knew it, his attacker had knocked him on his back, giving him no time to recover.

All Steve could see when he straightened up was the boot flying right at him, and he barely managed to move just enough so said boot landed on the floor instead of on parts of Steve’s anatomy he’d really rather keep intact—especially with the possibility of a date in the near future still in the back of his mind.

Batroc—because of course it was Batroc, Steve hadn’t expected anyone else—froze for a heartbeat, as did Steve. The stillness of the moment was over as soon as it had begun, and Steve didn’t spare much thought to technique when Batroc attacked again in a violent flurry of movement, punching and kicking so fast Steve couldn’t do anything but block, at first.

It only took a few moments before he spotted a pattern in Batroc’s attacks though, and then, instead of concerning, the fight became fun.

Batroc was a good fighter, and while he was certainly no match for Steve, he was far more of a challenge than anyone but Thor had been able to provide since he’d gotten the serum. Even Schmidt, for all his bluster of being the perfect man, had had shockingly little fighting technique and had mostly relied on brute strength alone.

Batroc, on the other hand… Batroc fought like it was an art, and Steve loved it.

Steve did not, however, have time to relish in the fight. Batroc was getting cocky, likely spurred on by Steve’s insistence of blocking and not punching—because he did have orders to bring the man in alive, and if Steve would punch him with full strength, he’d probably punch right through his skull.

It was too easy, really, to shove the man back with the shield, tossing him several feet.

It didn’t slow Batroc down though, and Steve was grudgingly impressed. The man had to be highly trained to be able to shake off a hit like that, and even when he attacked again, and Steve punched back, with his fists and the shield, Batroc got back up.

Steve was a little impressed.

“Je croyais tu étais plus qu’un bouclier,” Batroc sneered when he’d gotten back on his feet, and that… the implication grated, even though Steve knew, he knew Batroc was goading him, he knew Batroc knew he couldn’t beat Steve… But it stung nonetheless.

Before he knew what he was doing, he holstered his shield, keeping his eyes on Batroc as he undid the chin-strap on his helmet. “On va voir,” he said evenly, and he was itching for this fight, itching for a reason to beat this guy into the ground, regardless of how well he fought—

He and Batroc both flinched and spun around when a loud gunshot rang out across the deck, and before either of them could react further, Becca appeared, shooting Batroc twice, without hesitation, with the stun gun they had designed specifically to take hostiles in alive.

The man dropped like a sack of flour, and Steve was left staring between Becca—who looked positively furious—and the third man there, laying face-down in a pool of his own blood, a gun lying slightly beyond his outstretched fingertips.

“On va voir?” Becca hissed, stepping over Batroc’s prone body with an expression so infuriated Steve was almost afraid she’d set him on fire with just that look. He’d seen her angry before, but… shit, he’d messed up. “On ne vois rien! What the actual fuck, Rogers?!”

“Okay,” he said slowly, raising his hands in surrender, because Becca was still holding her stun gun, and she was not lowering it. “In my defense…”

“In your defense?” Becca shouted, stomping forward, shoving him in the shoulder hard. “There was no in your defense! You put away your main defensive weapon! You took off your helmet on an active mission with hostiles still in play! Jesus Christ, Steve, you knowbetter!”

Steve opened his mouth, but Becca waved her gun around angrily and he snapped it shut again, because he might be a supersoldier and if she shot him, he’d survive, but it’d still hurt like hell, and he wouldn’t put it past her to shoot him just to teach him a lesson about how close to death his body could take him.

“He had a gun on you,” she hissed. “He was waiting to take the shot, damn it! He would’ve blown your fucking brains out, Steve, and it’s not like you have any to spare!”

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed indignantly, glaring at her. “That’s not fair.”

“Try that again when you didn’t put away your main weapon in front of a hostile!” Becca shouted, poking her finger so close to his face, Steve was worried she’d boop him on the nose and make him laugh, because he knew laughing at her now would definitely make her shoot him.

“Okay, look,” Steve tried, backing away a little, because he was no fool, and staying within arm’s reach of an angry Barnes was never a good idea. “My entire body is basically a weapon. I mean—”

“Well, this is awkward,” Natasha interrupted.

Becca and Steve spun around to find her sitting cross-legged on Batroc’s back, securing his wrists with heavy handcuffs that could probably hold even Steve. Steve’s cheeks flamed, because Natasha was smirking in a way that meant she had heard all of the conversation that Steve would have rather kept between him and Becca.

Of course, he’d rather have not had the conversation at all, but he wasn’t that lucky.

“Where were you?” he bit out angrily, desperately grasping at the only thing he could to change the subject, glaring at Nat when she just raised her eyebrow. “Rumlow needed you with the hostages.”

“He’s fine,” she waved a hand dismissively. “I…” she paused and her eyes darted between him and Becca, who was still steely-eyed and angry, but at least not shouting anymore. “Fury gave me a secondary mission,” she admitted, holding up a hand to stave off the angry tirade that was already itching to burst from Steve’s lips. “I can’t talk about it here. Later, Steven.”

“Fine,” Steve bit out. “Fine.” He pointed to Natasha menacingly. “But you’re coming back to our place later to explain.”

Nat raised an eyebrow. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

————————

Start from the beginning:

In Hell We Stand By You:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Never Feel Alone:

(1) (2)

Decisions: (1)

Dancing with a Limp:

(1) (2)

Chances:

(1)

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D Find the next chapter HERE on Tumblr :)

#IHWSBY sequel #Starting Over #stucky #Stucky fanfiction #Steve rogers #Bucky barnes #Rebecca barnes #thor #tony stark #Natasha romanov #sam wilson #avengers family #my writing #Lisa writes

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How to Take Good Instagram Photos on Your Phone: The Ultimate Guide

New Post has been published on https://britishdigitalmarketingnews.com/how-to-take-good-instagram-photos-on-your-phone-the-ultimate-guide/

How to Take Good Instagram Photos on Your Phone: The Ultimate Guide

Ever wondered how to take good Instagram photos? How foodies snap their mouth-watering brunch flatlays? Or how fashion bloggers always make the colors in their #OOTD really pop?

If you’re feeling a bit jelly because your photos and Instagram Stories always seem to look flat, the good news is you don’t need to splash cash on an expensive DSLR to take the perfect Instagram photo.

Your phone has everything you need to take the perfect Instagram snap, you just need to get back to basics—the basics of photography, that is. So get ready to step up your Instagram strategy with these tap-worthy techniques.

The ultimate guide to taking good #Instagram photos on your phone #socialmediamarketing Click To Tweet

How to take good Instagram photos: Get to know your camera phone

Seriously, spend some time really exploring your phone’s camera features and click through all the settings. You might think you know your camera like the back of your hand, but after 5 minutes reviewing how it works you might come across a setting you hadn’t noticed before.

1. Lock in the exposure

When you take a photo of something in the shade set against a sunny sky, cameras either make the subject too dark or the sky too bright. Fortunately, there’s a simple trick to fixing this—underexposing your photo.

To underexpose your shot on an iPhone, tap and hold the brightest area of the screen. A yellow square will appear along with “AE/AF LOCK,” which means you’ve just locked in the auto exposure and auto focus for your shot.

Now you can move your camera around to compose your photo and get the perfect snap!

You might be thinking, why would I want a dark photo?! When your photo is over-exposed, there’s no way to fix it. But if you have an under-exposed shot, you can easily brighten the dark bits of the image with editing later.

2. Turn off HDR

HDR (High Dynamic Range) aims to fix the problems with over and underexposure, promising the best of both worlds so you can take good Instagram photos. The problem is, HDR doesn’t always deliver.

Basically, what HDR does is take a bunch of different exposures of the same photo and then splice them together in one detailed photo. But if you want to take good Instagram photos, they can look unnatural and your colors off-balance. So keep your snaps simple and turn this feature off.

3. Consider using a lens attachment

If high quality images are important for your brand, getting a lens attachment for your phone can make all the difference to the look and feel of your photos. A wide-angle lens, for example, lets you fit in more detail and create a greater sense of perspective, especially if you’re into travel photography.

There are many different types of lenses you can buy for smartphones; everything from telephoto and wide-angle lenses to fish-eye and macro kits that work on both the front and rear-facing cameras. If you just want an easy way to expand your phone camera’s capabilities, a clip-on lens set is an affordable option worth trying.

4. Get a waterproof case

For travel bloggers, it’s worth investing in a high quality waterproof case. Your phone will be protected against the elements and you’ll be able to take the kinds of underwater shots that get all the likes.

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North Sumatra doing its best Maldives impression… 📷 @ryzphoto @aurasurfresort @worldsurfaris Shot with @cmthousings . . . . . . . . . . . . #surfing #freediving #island #surfphotographer #travel #travelling #traveller #surftravel #underwater #surfphotographer #travelphotographer #surfer

A post shared by Ryan Williams (@ryzphoto) on May 3, 2018 at 11:10pm PDT

Photography basics: How to take good Instagram photos

There are two over-arching conventions of photography you need to practice if you want to take the perfect Instagram photo: composition and lighting.

Composition

Composition is all about how you put together all the visual elements in your photo. Unfortunately, most people don’t really use their eyes before taking a snap! Instead of taking a hundred photos before settling on the “best” one, take a moment to look at the scene and really think about how you could take good Instagram photos with what’s in front of you.

Look at the subject, consider what’s in the background, and think about how you could best frame your photo. Also, take a second to check for anything that might be distracting (are there any potential photo bombers or reflections in the image?).

You want your image to direct the viewer’s eye to the subject of your photo while capturing a story or emotion. Patterns, textures, symmetry, asymmetry, depth, lines, curves, contrast, color, negative space, and shapes are all elements of composition that can take what might otherwise be a boring photo and give it visual punch.

Here are a few other things to keep in mind in order to take good Instagram photos:

1. Follow the rule of thirds

The rule of thirds is one of the first things you learn when studying photography. Basically, it refers to a simple method for balancing an image. It divides a photo into a 3×3 grid and the idea is that you’re meant to align the subject of your photo along the lines and intersections of the grid to create balance.

Phones usually have a grid setting, so go ahead, turn it on, and experiment with how you compose your shots.

Here’s a great example of how the rule of thirds has been used to compose an image of a woman sitting on a cliff, her body perfectly lined up with the left line of the grid.

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Sometimes the thing we are afraid of doing is the one thing that will set us free…✨💙 @willandbear

A post shared by Hello Emilie (@helloemilie) on May 24, 2017 at 2:15am PDT

On the flip side, here’s an example of symmetry, with the waffle perfectly centered in the middle of the grid:

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💜 | The Glass Den | @theglassden . No Such Thing As Mondayitis 😏 . Strawberry Cheesecake Waffle – Strawberry Crisp Pearl, Raspberry Soil, Fresh Wild Berries, Strawberry Cream Cheese & Raspberry Meringue, Served On Strawberry Cheesecake Gelato 🍓🍓🍓 . Location – Coburg . CLICK ON THE LINK IN BIO – SIGN UP 👇 TO FIND OUT THE HOTTEST PLACES TO EAT IN MELBOURNE www.melbournebreakfastdiary.com.au Credit @thereddressmelb

A post shared by Melbourne Breakfast Diary (@melbournebreakfastdiary) on Sep 10, 2018 at 12:30am PDT

2. Use depth

Rather than just focusing on the subject of your photo, use layers with patterns and textures in the background to create a sense of depth. This draws viewers into your image beyond the subject, with each layer helping create a sense of atmosphere and movement.

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A split second moment of pure freedom somewhere in the Swiss Alps..

A post shared by Jason Charles Hill (@jasoncharleshill) on Mar 1, 2018 at 5:14am PST

3. Level the horizon

There’s nothing worse than a beautiful photo of a sunset with the horizon slightly off-center. It completely ruins the image! Instagram’s own editor lets you fix this, so if you want to take good Instagram photos and they have straight lines or angles—maybe a horizon or ocean—be sure to straighten them so they are perfectly level.

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Old snap from the archives in #Perth 🌞🌊

A post shared by Jason Morey (@jasonjrmorey) on Apr 16, 2018 at 9:17pm PDT

4. Think about perspective

Instead of taking your photos at eye level, consider how you might be able to move the camera or your body to capture it from a more interesting perspective. Try crouching to shoot from below, standing on a chair to take your photo from above, getting up close or further back.

Often, if you want to take good Instagram photos the best ones capture a subject from a different or unexpected angle. So take the time to position yourself and your camera rather than taking your snap straight on.

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The World is our Piece of Art, take care of it ♡⠀ ————⠀ How's your weekend Salties?! We are finishing up our Oman video and blogs and planning new trips. Get ready 😏

A post shared by HANNAH & NICK / 𖤥 BALI (@saltinourhair) on May 19, 2018 at 6:56am PDT

5. Use white space

You don’t necessarily need to fill your whole screen in order to take good Instagram photos. Think about how you could best use white space—aka negative space, or the area around the subject of your image—to help steer the viewer’s eye to the most important part of the photo.

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Outtake from a new campaign for Kester Black. Concept and styling by @jess_lillico. Full set of images on the @kesterblack website ✌🏻️

A post shared by Sean Fennessy ✌🏻 (@seanfennessy) on Aug 1, 2016 at 4:26pm PDT

6. Direct the eye

In photography, “leading lines” refers to the lines in an image that naturally direct the eye. These include paths, roads, forests, and buildings. Using leading lines lets you take the viewer by the hand and walk their eye to the focus of the image.

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Back exploring one of my favourite places in Australia to take time to breathe and surrounded myself with complete wilderness… ✨🍂 @tasmania @qantas #DiscoverTasmania

A post shared by Hello Emilie (@helloemilie) on May 2, 2018 at 10:49am PDT

Lighting

Lighting can make or break an image when you’re trying to take good Instagram photos. There’s nothing more disappointing than taking a great selfie with your mates and then later discovering the background is over-exposed and your faces are so dark you can’t see anyone’s features.

Before you take your shots, consider the lighting and how you could best use it to your advantage to bring out the colors in your photos.

1. Use natural light

If you want to take good Instagram photos, snap them indoors near windows with great natural light, or outside in daylight. Natural light provides the best clarity and colors for your photos, as well as helping keep them sharp and the lines crisp.

There are so many different ways you can use natural light to your advantage. Shooting your subject with light straight on is flattering, while subjects lit from the side look more 3D. Light can also add texture to images, create a moody effect, and from below can make subjects look scary.

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Shot Samuel Johnson after his Logie win. A lovely chap. – – – @samueljjohnson78 @loveyoursister @thebrunnyhotel #logies2017 #loveyoursister @heraldsunphoto #nikon📷 #Brunswick

A post shared by Eugene Hyland (@eugenehyland) on Apr 25, 2017 at 5:03pm PDT

2. Make the most of golden hour

Golden hour is just after sunrise and just before sunset when the sun is low on the horizon and light in the sky appears warmer and softer. It’s a magical time for photographers and offers the perfect light for soft shadows and beautiful color contrasts. Some even call golden hour “nature’s Instagram filter.”

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Good morning from the pilbara ~ last night we camped on an island and woke to this magic ✨💫 life is complete.

A post shared by ✨ C a r l y 🌙 (@carlyjaneandersson) on Jul 3, 2018 at 4:12pm PDT

3. Don’t be afraid of cloudy days

Natural light doesn’t automatically mean you need sunshine to take good Instagram photos. Direct sunshine can actually make taking a great snap harder than it needs to be thanks to harsh glare.

So if you’re outside, make the most of cloud cover—it can help diffuse sunlight, creating a softer and often more flattering effect.

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#Shanghai 2014 🚴

A post shared by Jason Morey (@jasonjrmorey) on Jul 26, 2016 at 7:01pm PDT

4 Classic types of Instagram photos

You’ve seen them all before, the quintessential Instagram photo “types” that always seem to pop up on the platform. They’re popular and like-inducing for a reason—these photos are taken with great care, using lighting and composition to create a beautiful image.

Let’s take a look at how you can compose and edit your images for similar results.

1. Foodie flatlay

Flatlay food shots look so simple yet can be difficult to get right. Here are some tips to help you take the perfect flatlay.

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💜 | Long Story Short | @longstoryshortcafe . Sunday Vibes ✌️ . Location – Brunswick . SIGN UP 👇 TO FIND OUT THE HOTTEST PLACES TO EAT IN MELBOURNE www.melbournebreakfastdiary.com.au Photo Credit @katnt

A post shared by Melbourne Breakfast Diary (@melbournebreakfastdiary) on May 26, 2018 at 8:15pm PDT

Resist eating your food right away! You want your dishes to look perfect, so hold off eating for just a couple of minutes.

Look for tables with interesting textures.

Remove anything from the table that might detract from the photo, like a stray wallet, phone, or dirty fork.

Watch out for any shadows that you and your phone might be casting across the food.

You don’t need to crowd every dish fully into the frame—it’s okay to cut a dish in half as the viewer’s eye will automatically fill in what’s missing.

When you’re editing, dial up the contrast, exposure and sharpness just a bit to really make your colors pop.

2. Tiny human in a big world

This type is a favorite of travel photographers who want to take good Instagram photos. A beautiful, wide landscape with a teeny tiny person in the distance isn’t just awe-inspiring, but it’s also fairly easy to snap.

Venture out into the wilderness for this type of shot. National parks are your best bet for big landscapes.

If you want to take good Instagram photos, do it during golden hour when you’re going to have the best light.

Use the rule of thirds to compose your photo so it’s evenly balanced.

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Wild times in the land of ice…

A post shared by Jason Charles Hill (@jasoncharleshill) on Jun 28, 2017 at 8:15am PDT

3. Wall backdrop

Standing someone in front of a wall instantly makes them the focus of your photo.

Put your subject smack bang in the center of your photo. You want them to be the focus, not the wall.

If the wall is colorful, bring out the colors a bit during editing. Increase the saturation and warmth and experiment with the dials to see what looks best so you can take good Instagram photos.

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🍰

A post shared by Darren (@thecitygrammer) on Aug 16, 2018 at 5:21am PDT

4. Back to the camera

Taking good Instagram photos with your back to the camera from a distance throws up a couple of challenges. For a start, where do you put your phone? Also, how do you actually take the photo?

Use a mini tripod or a Gorilla Grip. Full-size tripods aren’t exactly convenient to carry around, whereas smaller adjustable tripods can be wrapped around railings and tree branches.

Use the self-timer mode on your photo or, better yet, get a Bluetooth remote for your phone.

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Dreams come true in @peru • Sheer granite rising thousands of feet above the raging rapids of the sacred Urubamba river and surrounded by towering Andean mountains with lush dense forest, the archaeological site of Machu Picchu is one of the most mysterious and breathtaking places in the world. Captivating – – doesn’t even come close 💫🌿✨ #visitperu // Did you know Machu Picchu has multiple structures that perfectly align with the position and influence of the stars throughout the year? Ps – just making little friends around the world. ❣️#machupicchu

A post shared by Melissa Findley (@melissafindley) on Jul 29, 2018 at 3:49am PDT

3 Best Instagram editing apps

Once you’ve taken your photo, that’s only half your work done—it’s time to edit your image. There is a multitude of editing apps available, all with easy to use features and filters. The following are three of the most popular apps around.

1. VSCO

VSCO was one of the first image editing apps for smartphones and continues to be one of the most popular. It’s a beautiful, easy to use app with dozens of filters and all the basic tools you need for adjusting contrast, saturation, highlights, shadows, temperature, along with many more advanced settings.

For a consistent look and feel across your Instagram account, choose a few presets that suit your style and stick with those for all your images.

2. Snapseed

For serious phone photographers, Snapseed offers professional-level photo editing features combined with an intuitive interface, courtesy of Google. It has dozens of editing tools, from simple settings for adjusting brightness and highlights to advanced settings for touching up specific areas of your photos.

Snapseed also has tools you won’t find in other apps; you can adjust the “ambiance” of your photos for moodier or softer shots, use the brush tool to brighten, darken, or saturate part of your photo, or use the healing tool to remove blemishes from people’s faces.

3. Adobe Lightroom CC

Adobe’s suite of photography software is arguably the best on the market and ideal for professional photographers. Similarly, the company’s mobile version of Lightroom CC provides a lightweight adaption but with the advanced editing capabilities, you would expect from Adobe.

The app feature powerful presets and is packed with tons of tools, enabling you to edit almost every little detail in an image. But what’s really special about this app is the built-in camera, which allows you to see presets in action while you’re taking a shot.

You’re ready to start taking good Instagram photos!

Now it’s your turn. Go out into the world and put the tips and advice we’ve covered here and start taking tap-worthy photos. Like anything in life, practice makes perfect! So take the time to experiment and find the techniques that you feel comfortable using before launching your first Instagram promotion.

Editing can make a good photo great, so play around with the different editing apps available and stick with the one that best suits your photography style so you can create good Instagram photos.

Don’t forget to write a good Instagram caption to go with your photos! They give your images context, let you show off your brand’s personality, connect with your target audience, and compel your followers to take action.

Lastly, don’t go too crazy with your photos! You don’t need to spend hours and hours taking and editing images. At the end of the day, you’re using Instagram to connect with people, raise brand awareness and visibility, and promote your product or service. So make sure you put just as much time into engaging with followers and reviewing your analytics for long-term Instagram success.

Good #Instagram photos are just one piece of the puzzle; for long term success, make sure your #Instagrammarketing strategy includes time for engaging with followers Click To Tweet

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canvaswolfdoll · 7 years

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CanvasReads: Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

PS | CoS | PoA | GoF | OoP | HBP | DH

Don’t worry, I’m still reading the Harry Potter books! I didn’t suddenly stop for the second time in my life!

Half Blood Prince also happens to be the last Harry Potter film I watched. I… didn’t really understand what was going on, as I recall it being pretty choppily written (though it’s been many years since I’ve watched the movies[1]).

That has been my interesting trivia and context before we actually get into the review.

For the first time, we open a book outside Harry’s perspective. In fact, as far as I can recall, this is the first time we’re given material that Harry’s not privy to. Even in Goblet of Fire, which opened in the Riddle House[2], was revealed in the next chapter to be a dream vision by Harry tapping into Voldemort’s mind, if a bit loose with camera angles.

Book 6, however, that goes out the window, as instead we see part of the life of the British Prime Minister! As in, the actual Muggle one, not the bizarre Wizard one.

I actually know very little about the mechanics of the British Government, so I have no way to guess which Prime Minister this is supposed to be, or his exact functions within the government besides… being the highest authority, I guess?

Look, rest of the world, we shove the mess that is our government down your throats. You’re welcome to return the favor.

Point is, the chapter establishes that the muggle and wizard governments are so thoroughly divorced the muggle Prime Minister didn’t even know about wizards until the night of his… inauguration? The very night he officially takes office. So, yes, Muggles and Wizards have no political power over one another, and that sounds like it’d be the biggest possible mess.[3] Like… come on guys, you losers share an island, it’d probably work much better if you jawbreakers would at least have monthly meetings.

Anyways, the actual chapter tells how Fudge goes from greeting the Prime Minister on that first night, saying “Don’t worry, you’ll probably never see me again,” to popping in on a yearly basis to give a very rough summary of the escalating chaos from Harry and Voldemort’s shenanigans. It serves both as a ‘previously on Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ and world building!

But Fudge got… impeached? Kicked out of Office?

Fudge isn’t the boss anymore, what with the utter incompetence he displayed during Order of the Phoenix.

So he’s being kept on as the official liaison to the Prime Minister, so new Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour can keep focus on dealing with the return of the Dark Lord.

Also, we get a brief overview of how Voldemort’s been causing damage to Muggles (despite how even Voldemort prefers to leave muggles alone).

Then we go to follow a different character: Draco Malfoy’s mom!

I… okay? I mean, it’s a very important chapter that establishes some details, but Mrs. Malfoy hasn’t really played a role until now.

Actually, considering the nature of previous books, it’s actually a little against the typical narrative for Rowling to tell us about the unbreakable vow and that Draco’s been selected by Voldemort to do something malicious this year, instead of letting that mystery grow as per usual, and the following chapters seem to be written in that usual way.

Then again, maybe it’s just reassurance that Snape and Malfoy, both red herrings in the past, are actually up to something this time.

Also, Wormtail lives with Snape. And literally everyone calls him Wormtail. I feel there’s something to be inferred from everyone using Pettigrew’s schoolboy nickname, shared with three men he betrayed so utterly.

You know what? I really want to hear Pettigrew’s story. What happened there? Was he always a toady, without much of a spine? Except he was in Gryffindor, which implies some characteristics he doesn’t display, and he had the tenacity to become an Animagus with James and Sirius, which isn’t supposed to be easy. He was close enough to know about Lupin’s lycanthropy. All details about Pettigrew indicates a very complex and competent individual, considered trustworthy by the other Marauders and an actual friend, not just a sad gopher they kept about for convenience. Yet the glimpses of the era he’d be at Hogwarts, whether by Lupin’s words, or Snape’s memories, rarely (if ever) mention Pettigrew. And he currently acts like such a weak-spined minion, loyal to the biggest bully.

Who is Peter Pettigrew?

We will not know at this juncture.

Instead, in chapter 3, we finally see Harry Potter himself, asleep against his bedroom window, waiting for Dumbledore to come and take him away.

Dumbledore arrives, takes Vernon’s usual bluster with ease, then forces the Dursleys to sit down and be quiet as he and Harry settle some matters, chiefly Sirius Black’s will. Good news, Sirius left everything to Harry! Bad news, Number 12 Grimmauld Place is compromised and the Order of the Pheonix needs a new Headquarters.

Also, Harry owns Kreacher, the Black family house elf. Harry just tells the ungrateful thing to go work at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore then chastises the Durselys for treating Harry unkindly, and informs them Harry must be allowed to return once more the next summer to finish the last leg of the ill-defined spell allowing the Dursleys protection from Voldemort.

Then the two wizards leave, and presumably the Dursley’s are relieved to finish a wizard encounter without damage to body or home.

Slightly tangent, this book has shown Dumbledore apparating booze pretty frequently. I… don’t know if I’m supposed to read anything into that, but it’s a noticeable pattern.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, has one more errand before taking Harry to the Burrow;[4] time to enlist a new faculty member.

Not a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, of course. Snape finally gets that job, presumably because he was the only Order member willing, and Dumbledore needs to obey the pattern (Death Eater, third party, Order member), and Snape’s history with the Death Eaters may translate into making him an inexplicably good teacher for the post.

But then again, he is Snape.

Slughorn, meanwhile, is a serviceable Potions Master, and a Slytherin of the hob-knobbing sort, gaining privileges as a sideline manipulator.

Slughorn doesn’t really want to come back to Hogwarts, but Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, is far too tempting a morsel to ignore, so Slughorn gives in. Also, Hogwarts is mostly safe.

I mean, the only teacher to die was Quirrel, who was working for Voldemort. Or so Harry explains to Slughorn.

This is omitting the teacher that oblivated himself; the second Death Eater that snuck in, and was instrumental in Voldemort’s resurrection; the power-hungry toad that took over the school, and was taken away by centaurs; having Dementors hanging about for a year; the giant spider in the local forest; all of Hagrid’s other oddities; the casual defiling of space-time; the basilisk that was living in the plumbing; an evil diary; Crouch Sr. also dying on school grounds; Harry’s many Quidditch injuries; the Triwizard Tournament in general; Hagrid’s full-giant half-brother hanging about; and Dumbledore's re-emerging alcoholism.

Hogwarts isn’t a very safe place.

Still, Slughorn agrees, and Dumbledore takes Harry at last to the Burrow. Whereupon he takes Harry into a broomshed and tells Harry he’s going to give the boy private lessons over the school year, and he’s free to tell Ron and Hermione stuff, because just because Dumbledore is a bumbling secret-keeping fool, doesn’t mean Harry should be.

Besides, he’ll need both Hermione’s smarts and Ron’s bullheadedness to cope.

And, by the way, Harry’s the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain now. Why not.

At the Burrow, we learn Hermione’s been staying for the summer, too, and Bill Weasley is engaged to Fleur Delacour, who was also a Triwizard champion. No one but Bill and Ron like having her around, and Molly is trying to turn Bill’s head toward Tonks instead.

Also, with Voldemort now making a spectacle of himself, security’s been heightened. Just… just in general. Wizards are scared. So that’s fancy pants fun.

Fred and George have their joke shop up and running, including a backroom of items designed to fight against dark magic. They seem to be doing well for themselves.

Oh, and Harry catches Draco Malfoy doing something sneaky. It’s all very suspicious, but no one’s got Harry’s back on the matter, even though we, the audience, know something's up.

On the train, Hermione and Ron again must do prefect duties, so Harry goes to sit with Neville and Luna. Luna hopes for the Dumbledore’s Army meetings to continue, because it’s almost like she has friends.[5]

Slughorn, not wanting to waste time, tries to befriend prospective celebrities, which Harry finds a bit off putting.

After getting away from the gathering, Harry sneaks off to eavesdrop on Draco, where the idiot’s bragging to his friends about the evil he’s about to get up to.

However, Draco, being actually perceptive, discovers Harry, beats him up, and intends to leave him on the train to miss Hogwarts.

Because Harry just can’t keep his streak of catching the House Sorting. Always have to have some difficulty.

Tonks finds Harry anyways, and together the two head towards the school.

In short order, the actual faculty changes are addressed, and Harry is able to advance with potions classes, pursuing his dream of being an Auror.

But he also doesn’t have potion supplies, so Slughorn lets him and Ron borrow class supplies as needed, until they can order their own.

Harry ends up with a used book, annotated and written in by some jerk former students.

What monster writes in books? Whoever this ‘Half Blood Prince’ guy is, he’s clearly without morals.[6]

After two books of the subtitle not having a heavy importance to the plot, The Half-Blood Prince brings the relevance slope upwards, as the book brings both good and ill to Harry’s life, and Snape’s actions ultimately have the greatest effect on the plot moving forward.

While we’re on Snape, let’s take time to assess his DADA skills.

Information is inconclusive. We only truly get the first day of the class, where Snape, like every previous teacher, has commented on how behind the shenanigans of the previous teachers have put them. Though, to be honest, only Lockhart and Umbridge have actually caused any set back, and during Umbridge’s tenure, there was the DA to keep a portion of the class moving forward.

Which means the damage Lockhart left in his wake was that detrimental. Literal villains did a better job, you pompous fool.

Anyways, we don’t get much material on how well Snape teaches the subject, putting him about equal Quirrel’s ‘Must’ve been average enough to warrant no comment’.

Which means the DADA teachers are symmetrical. It went unnotable, bad job, great job, best job, worst job, unremarkable.

Huh.

I look forward to see how the final one compares.

So the potions book helps jump Harry forward in the art of potions. Which means if he spent less time glaring at Snape and more time listening and taking notes, he’d probably been pretty strong in the subject.

This allows Harry to win a Luck Potion from Slughorn during the first day of class. Which, of course, will be used against the man later.

Dumbledore also begins his private lessons with Harry, the subject: Tom Riddle!

Junior!

He’s catching Harry up on Voldemort’s backstory so Harry can keep the great work going in case something happens to Dumbledore.

Yet,despite this, Dumbledore keeps vital and reassuring knowledge from Harry!

Like, Dumbledore’s great sin is honestly Pride. The man, whose dark past and brilliance has left him a Hero’s Complex greater than Harry, seems to have a problem trusting anyone with the whole game table he’s operating with. Even as Dumbledore enters this final stage, where he must relinquish the throne of control to Harry and move himself to the expendable camp, Dumbledore still cannot conceive that trusting his subordinates with what he’s up to might help things along.

For all his talk of how important Love is; for his instance that Harry keep Hermione and Ron up to date; even as he derides Tom Riddle for forming no friendships and using his Death Eaters only as tools, Dumbledore is of the same ilk, just happened to be on the other end of the game table.

This is not just about Dumbledore not telling Harry the full story behind Snape, which, after six years of Harry receiving nothing but reasons to mistrust Snape, would’ve been a good thing to pass on before his death; or that he knows Draco is up to something, that Harry’s concerns are warranted and being addressed; or that, possibly, Dumbledore will die either hunting the Horcruxes or by other machinations by the Dark Lord, and Harry must be prepared for what that means.

He doesn’t even tell McGonagall the deal with Snape. Like, I get it, McGonagall isn’t a member of the Order of the Phoenix, but… She’s next in line to head Hogwarts. She’s the one to be left with the fallout. McGonagall needs to have been made aware of what Dumbledore and Snape were planning, and what should be done with Hogwarts.

Dumbledore probably views his actions as a necessary evil, yet lacks the wisdom of literature’s greatest Necessary Evil: Havelock Vetinari.

Because Vetinari knew to give authority and partial control to others, and build a self-maintaining city while keeping himself irreplaceable to his allies and, most importantly, to his enemies.

Ankh-Morpork without Vetinari risks another Snapcase.[7]

Dumbledore did a good job of making himself nonexpendable by the arms of good, so that when the enemy, to whom he is very expendable, gets a lucky shot in, Dumbledore leaves a fractured force in his wake.

With only a lone boy (and his two friends) with a clear goal, and an Order of the Phoenix and a school staff facing the unknowable darkness without context.

Like… don’t keep secrets. If there is no greater lesson to be learned from media, it’s that keeping secrets never works out.

Have a confidant. Have someone to call you on your missteps. Have a back-up!

The descent of Dumbledore from mystical guide to fallible mortal, while a potentially strong arc, is still scarred by the worst trope.

I… just stop serving me this trope, Media. It’s the fastest way to kill my trust in a character and strength of the plot.

If your plot only works because someone is keeping vital information from someone else, with zero repercussions with its revelation, rewrite it. Or make sure the one keeping the secret is both the stupidest cast member and actual scum of the Earth.

I haven’t even seen the fallout from this choice, I just know narratives well enough to know the ramifications could’ve been easily avoided.[9]

Right, we were talking about the infodump of Voldemort’s back story.

It has some worrisome elements? I mean, I prefer redemption stories, or at least some optimism that the bad guy can be saved, which I know isn’t this story, and that’s fair, but… Dumbledore offers no sympathy to Tom Riddle along the way.

Yes, Voldemort was a right jerk from the start, terrorizing the other orphans and being a sociopath but… dude was orphaned, with no knowledge of his mother, only his father’s name to go on, and inexplicable powers with no explanation for the first decade of his life.

It’s easily a very tragic tale about a boy incapable of forming actual connections with anyone, nor having a firm place in the world. Even from the start, Dumbledore is suspicious of the boy.

Yes, I’m forcible dragging out sympathy. Fight me.

Also, there’s Dumbledore’s theory that Tom Riddle is the way he is because he was conceived while under the influence of a love potion, which… really, Rowling? Like…

Actually, no, the implications of that is obvious, I won’t address it.[10]

I mean, I get the Dark Mirror of Harry aspect Rowling was going for, but it does kind of jumbles the message; that great evil and great good can only come from extraordinary circumstances. That a being like Voldemort is the result of inbreeding, abuse of his mother, a loveless conception, and a lonely childhood. I think it might’ve been a tad more interesting if Voldemort actually came from an unremarkable background.

But then you’d still need to clean up the loose ends of Voldemort having a family.

The Horcruxes/Phylacteries are a good element to introduce. A tangible list of challenges to conquer before we can get our final showdown.

And the book does explain why Voldemort didn’t just make one of his horcruxes a grain of sand, guys! The man is literally too melodramatic. His soul jars have to have some emotional connection, and he can’t conceive of anyone capable of matching his intellect and power to destroy the things, so why does it matter. Why do you have to judge Voldy?

There must’ve been a boar somewhere in the Gaunt family line, because Tom Riddle is a thick slice of Ham.

So that’s what Dumbledore tells Harry, but he does need Harry to get an unaltered memory from Slughorn to prove that Voldemort knows about Horcruxes because… due process or something?

Dumbledore has the ring Horcrux during the first meeting, and presumably destroys it, so shouldn’t it be obviously the nature of the beast?

I don’t understand what Dumbledore thinks he’s doing in this book. Albus is a mess.

But Harry has other concerns! Like captaining the Quidditch team! It goes… alright? The graduation of Lee Jordon left the announcer’s box open, allow some fun guest announcers, the best being Luna.

But Quidditch is still the least interesting and low stakes part of the narrative, and as nice as it is that Harry has Hobbies, I don’t care.

Gryffindor wins at the end, as always.

Let’s see, other significant plot lines…

Well, Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater now. Harry figures it quick, because he eavesdropped on the right conversations. Harry tries to figure out what Malfoy’s scheme is, and while some progress does get made from time to time, Harry never gets in a position to solve the mystery, because Malfoy does ultimately need to succeed, but it does mean a lot of pages spent on Harry trying to get into the room of requirement and failing.

Also, I love how there’s a version of the room that’s just a massive warehouse to hide junk. Even Trelawney knows the room well enough to dump her sherry bottles in there.

There’s suddenly a lot of alcohol use. Is it because Harry could legally drink beer now? What is the deal.

I’d actually enjoy a breakdown of what characters know what Hogwarts secrets. That’d be neat.

Other ongoing plots…

Ooh! Fenrir Greyback!

We’ve got another werewolf! There’s another werewolf!

He’s a bad guy. And cannibalistic. And a total monster.

Yaaay?

We don’t get much information about Greyback. Is he also a wizard? If so, did he forsake magic to instead savage people? Why does he think teaming up with blood-purist Tom Riddle will further his cause? Because I do like the subtle thread of both he and Lupin trying to find equality for werewolves, but approaching from massively different angles.

Was Greyback a muggle? If so, what was it like to suddenly get pulled into the wizard world, but as a very low caste?

When do I get that story? Does… does anyone else want that Harry Potter-verse story?

Maybe Fantastic Beasts 2?

What other plotlines? There’s got to be something else.

Fine.

I’ve ran out of delaying tactics.

Harry and Ginny…

Look, it’s not well written. I know it, you know it, and yet… we’re told to just accept it? That Harry and Ginny are truly compatible and…

They never talk! Like… okay, you want to write a good romantic subplot for the main character, wherein it’s not the main focus of the narrative? Here’s the Canvas Method:

First, make both characters independently compelling. Since Harry’s the main character, he’s good. Enough material, we’ve followed him for 5 or 6 books now, so he is compelling. Ginny, meanwhile, isn’t. The last time we saw Ginny be really important was Chamber of Secrets. Since then, she’s just been part of crowd scenes, to fill a seat, either as a Weasley or as a DA member. She’s just there, at best a checklist of traits, if that.

I need to be interested in both involved parties for me to become invested in the relationship. Remember, 50% is a failing grade.

So if the character is defined only by their relationships to others, then you’ve written a Romantic MacGuffin. A Horcrux of Love. A nonentity character.[11]

Second, the two characters must talk to each other about something besides how much they like one another, and leading up to the relationship. And I mean there needs to be dialogue written out. No ‘They played quidditch at the Burrow’ and ‘They had talked’, Rowling. If you want to convince me this is the match, actually write Harry and Ginny, sitting on the Hogwarts Express, casually discussing Quidditch, their school experiences, whatever. Place Ginny, constantly, with the golden trio. Mix her into the dynamic.

If the audience doesn’t see it, it doesn’t happen. Build the romance the same as any other part of the story.

Even Harry and Cho had more build up, and that was written to fail, even though that also was mostly ‘Harry felt this way,’ we saw a lot more of Harry stumbling about with his crush, and small conflicts.

Two point five, the two characters should also be interesting as a unit.[12]

We haven’t seen much of Harry and Ginny on page for me to analyze this further.

Three, the relationship needs to have a narrative purpose and make compelling stories from the union, before leading up to it and during the relationship.

So, yes, Rowling, we lose Ginny making out with other boys in the background, but literally no one cares about Dean Thomas.

Rowling doesn’t even care about Dean Thomas.

I don’t even know if Dean Thomas has any defining characteristics besides ‘named Dean Thomas’ and ‘Isn’t Seamus’!

Cho had Cedric Diggory, who was a Triwizard Champion, and died, so him being in the love triangle worked.

This is why people ship Harry and Hermione, by the way. Not just because the whole ‘Lead Boy and Lead Girl’ angle, but because Hermione is literally the only age appropriate female Harry ever interacts with for extended periods on various topics.

And you know what? Hermione and Ron is done well. They’ve been orbiting the relationship and alternating jealousy since Goblet of Fire, and more or less both parties are well aware, but are too stubborn to bow first. And it’s only gently implied at the end of this book that Hermione and Ron are now together. I’m not even sure if Dumbledore’s funeral is the canon starting point.

But that doesn’t matter! We’ve seen both grow as unique characters, their relationship build and move in arcs. Rowling put the work in, and it worked.

Well, okay, I’m not a fan of Ron and Hermione, but that’s because I’m not a shipper in general, and I am very pessimistic about high school romances, and I’d prefer the main three to be friends over romances, but that’s personal taste.

So I’m throwing Ginny into the ‘dull love interests’ bucket under my desk.[13]

And, because I probably should address it: Lupin and Tonks.

Ew. Like… no! Lupin’s 13 years her senior! Harry’s obliviousness and Dumbledore keeping him away from meetings means this has less build up than Harry and Ginny. And… massive age differences really creeps me out. A lot. No. No to Lupin and Tonks. Stop it. Ugh. Or, at least, make Tonks older. It would’ve been so easy! Just add 10 more years. It would change so little.

Why do you do this to me, Rowling. I like Lupin, why’d such a creepy relationship for him?

Well, how does the rest of the story go?

Well, I like how the Locket Horcrux was kept in a Zelda dungeon. Have to swim to the entrance, spill blood to get past the entryway, navigate around a giant pond to find a boat to take you to the island, and presumably keep your hand at the level of your eyes.[14]

Then there’s a torturous potion to drink to get to the locket at the bottom, which Dumbledore just drinks down… If Dumbledore split duties on that with Harry, maybe they’d only be half sad apiece, and things would’ve gone better.

Stop martyring yourself, Dumbledore! It’s dumb.

Oh, and redeads. Have to fight off the glomps of redeads.

With fire!

Seriously, why is this one horcrux given this level of protection, and meanwhile the Journal was handed off to Lucius Malfoy, and more just sort of litter the Hogwarts School ground.

Did Voldemort put in the work on this one dungeon, step back, exhausted, and think ‘Screw it, I’m not doing this five more times. Malfoy! It’s Milkshake time!’

“Why do I have to pay, Dark Lord?”

‘Shut up, Malfoy.’

“I just don’t feel like you appreciate me.”

‘Look, just… listen, I hereby entrust you with my diary. Don’t do anything stupid with it, like secret into the hands of an eleven-year old in some sort of petty revenge scheme.’

“That’s oddly specific.”

‘Shut up, Malfoy.’

I’m a little sad Voldemort screen time was limited to flashbacks. Sure, dude was being suave to all kinds of people, but he was rather subdued this time. Didn’t even do any extravagant actions to curse the DADA post. Just kind of flipped off Dumbledore on his way out the door.

After drinking an unknown potion he found lying in a cave, Dumbledore gets dragged home by Harry, where they see the Dark Mark hovering over Hogwarts.

Oops.

So they grab broomsticks, flyover, and then Dumbledore petrifies Harry so the boy can’t do anything dumb like save lives while Dumbledore Dumbles on with Draco, spelling out what the boy was doing during the year. Which is nice exposition.

Other Death Eaters storm up to peer pressure Draco into straight murderin’ a dude, eventually Snape wakes up, comes up in an irritated grog, Avada Kedavra’s Dumbledore off the tower, then heads home.

Harry makes chase, ignoring the tiny scuffle between Death Eaters and Order of the Pheonix, chases Snape and Draco across the lawn, Snape sets Hagrid’s house on fire, gets sick of Harry yelling at him, so he pauses his escape for a moment to be like ‘Listen, you idiot, I’m the Half-Blood Prince, stop using my jinxes on me. Also, stop calling me a coward. Your dad did that, and that loser needed back-up when he bullied me.’

Which actually a well cloaked compliment.

Snape essentially tells Harry he’s braver than his Dad was.

Snape is such a sweetie.

Who murdered Dumbledore.

Exit, Snape! Only DADA Teacher to leave on his own terms. Good for him.

Harry helps Hagrid put out the fire, stumbles back to the school, helps spread the news of Dumbledore’s death, then goes to McGonagall's sweet new office to decide the fate of Hogwarts.

They’re probably going to try and keep it open. Also, Dumbledore’s getting entombed at Hogwarts. So let’s have a funeral.

They have a Funeral, Harry does the lame ‘Sorry, Ginny, but my life is too dangerous, being with you is too dangerous. We need to break up. I’m Spiderman.”

I mean, sure, Ginny’s a member of a blood-traitor house, both her parents are currently members of the Order of the Phoenix, she is aligned with the DA, was involved with one of Voldemort’s horcruxes getting stabbed, but yes, her relationship with Harry alone would make her a target for Death Eaters.

You idiot. Stop emulating Dumbledore. Look where that got him!

Harry walks off to do the edgy lone wolf hero thing, but Hermione and Ron catch up and are like ‘Nope, we’re coming with you. Let’s kill a Lich.’

Which, to his credit, Harry accept with very little fight.

They leave with two final loose ends to sever before the final leg:

Have to visit the Dursley’s one last time, because Harry did promise.

He shouldn’t give a chocolate frog about them at this point, but Harry did promise Dumbledore.

Also, Bill and Fleur are getting married.

Bill’s a near werewolf, too, by the by. Lucky dude.

Fawkes the Phoenix also flies away, probably to find a place far away from this madness.[15]

The book was… good. It’s not really a stand out story, as it’s mostly set up for the end, closing some things while preparing the final segments. There was almost no Wizard World building, Luna had an even smaller role, and all the romance subplots were… not great. The Half-Blood Prince mystery, while filled with interesting details, also wasn’t really that big of a deal. It’s a breather episode, and feels like a de-escalation in the series. Even Dumbledore’s death (admittedly, marred by being the biggest spoiler) wasn’t really that epic.

I may go so far as to say it’s my least favorite, but that has more to do with having Chamber of Secrets level of excitement in the middle of the plot intense end of the story.

One more book to go. Until then, feel free to interact with me, check out my other projects, and consider backing me on Patreon. Thank you.

Kataal kataal.

[1] Excepting when I watched Sorcerer's Stone with Rifftrax a couple months ago. [2] Riddle House sounds like a puzzle-heavy bonus dungeon, where the player can collect the party’s joke weapons. [3] And we’re doing the same thing with Magical Congress. The magic world is dumb, the longer you look at it. [4] Which, at this point, should have, and deserves to have, Harry’s love shield protecting it. Maybe it does but… eh? [5] Ha ha! I completely empathize! [6] Yes, none of Snape’s crimes are greater than this. [7] Readers who have not read the Discworld books must be so lost.[8] [8] Please read the Discworld books. [9] I… can I even conceive of a way to justify this trope? I… like to experiment with making weird and bad tropes work, but… how. [10] Though I am really concerned that Love Potions are openly sellable at the Weasley Twins’ shop. That… is not a good thing to not have any government oversight on. [11] I’m looking at you, Asami! Too busy being defined by her ex-boyfriend, her father, and Korra to actually be interesting! [12] Or ‘This is why I ship Zuko and Ty Lee’! Zuko and Mai is too much of the same. Ty Lee adds contrast. [13] With Asami, Mai, Asuna and... let’s say Mikiru. And Lagoon Boy? I don’t actually maintain a list. Also Tom. [14] Well, technically you’re pretending to hold a pistol, ready to fire, or I guess a wand in this case… I’m referencing Phantom of the Opera. [15] Maybe Princess Celestia will adopt him.

#CanvasReads #Harry Potter #CanvasReviews #JK Rowling #hogwarts

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