#steve was not bullied enough because of that commercial

[lazybakerart]

dustin and the rest of the nerds at steve and billys wedding: we've put together a very special tape to commemorate this day. *puts in an old vhs of steves scoops ahoy commercial*

steve will never know peace after that commercial. mike makes copies of it to sell. billy buys nearly all of them - you can never be too safe, always have a back up, steve's humiliation is too precious to fall into the wrong hands.

#steve was not bullied enough because of that commercial #harringrove #steve harrington #replies #let billy recite the commercial word for word at steve #and let steve call him a stalker #let me have those delicious parallels damnit

[laundrybiscuits]

Director's Commentary: what will today's adventure be

Wrote this on the bus even though absolutely nobody asked for or needed it! Posting because why not. It's 1300 words of commentary for a 3100 word story. WHY NOT.

I've had the vague idea of Erica running a MLP game for a while, but seeing her little speech in Hellfire absolutely locked in her potential as a DM for me. I jotted this down in my ST scratchpad a few weeks back:

I desperately want Erica Sinclair running a MLP GURPS game. Dustin and Eddie are 10000% on board and wildly delighted. Mike is a massive dick about it the entire time. Lucas is in agony between acknowledging that it’s a pretty fucking well-designed game and he’s kind of proud of her but also HIS LITTLE SISTER HAS INFILTRATED HIS NERD GROUP WITH HER GIRLY CARTOON PONY SHIT. If Will’s around, he’s a little skeptical but quickly gets into it; it’s not his genre/style, but he can have fun trying something new. It’s ruthless, and clever, and slightly unbalanced because she hasn’t figured out how to calibrate on the fly for dumbass player decisions yet. She’ll get there. She’s got the taste for it now. The campaign ends when the party ends up luring the innocent Sea Ponies into a blood sacrifice to defeat the demon lord through necromancy and take over his dark reign. Steve shows up for the last fifteen minutes to drive the kids home, just in time to hear Erica describe the incredibly gory showdown, and tries to telepathically communicate to Eddie that this is NOT APPROPRIATE FOR CHILDREN; Eddie just grins back like hell yeah, baby, you got that right.

Obviously it has changed a bit since that initial thought, but not a huge amount, dynamic-wise. I was somewhat hampered by the fact that I remembered absolutely nothing about my brief stint with GURPS a billion years ago, and also the fact that I have literally never consumed any MLP media whatsoever. No, not even Friendship is Magic, although I was on tumblr during that initial era so I picked up a thing or two via cultural osmosis. To write this ficlet, I ended up spending a very instructive hour or two on YT watching old clips and commercials, and now the G1 theme song is permanently lodged in my brain.

This has more or less been my first time writing Erica, so I tried to put a lot of thought and care into it. In fact, I based her primarily on what my own little sister was like at that age—my sister was a regular player in my D&D games growing up, but she also went on to be a wildly popular homecoming queen, and is a very politically active adult. She's the coolest person I know, and it was an honor to be lovingly bullied by her all throughout our childhoods.

One thing I really hope I get across in this fic is that this Erica is the type to double down when she's uncertain. She's smart and funny enough to get away with it most of the time, and it's actually a big part of what makes me so sure she'll be a great DM; that's definitely a core DM skill, spinning up some off-the-cuff bullshit with the kind of authoritative tone that makes it sound like you've been masterminding this twist for months.

I wanted her to be somewhat uncertain and insecure in this fic, because running a game for the first time, in a (VERY dense) system you've never played before, is kind of a big deal! I've done something similar myself when I wasn't that much older than Erica is in this fic, and you absolutely need nerves of steel to pull it off.

I also wanted her to be fully resolved not to let that uncertainty show, because Erica strikes me as the kind of person who haaaaates being vulnerable. Given her vocab (i.e. probable reading level) and practical inclinations, I think she'd probably deal with it all by over-prepping, which experienced DM Eddie obviously clocks.

She wouldn't have gone to Eddie for advice or help. That's not how she rolls. She'd rather work through the difficult stuff on her own and show up triumphant and already perfect. It's probably something she's going to have to unpack in therapy later in life, but it is also actually a pretty solid DM instinct. Smoke and mirrors, baby.

So anything Erica says can and should be taken with a grain of salt. She's working very hard to have her audience believe she's in charge and absolutely correct about all things. (I also just thought it was pretty funny to include that bit about GURPS being the future of TTRPGs, given the wild ascendancy of DnD and the relatively low profile of GURPS nowadays, but in retrospect I'm not sure that came across.)

By the way: I know it can get confusing when actual kid-acquisition is sort of a trope, but I hope everyone knows that this Eddie's not being serious/literal when he makes the internal comment about adopting Erica! He just loves her a lot and wants to be in her life in a permanent kind of way, and he's a dramatic dork. If he had to pin down a specific extant familial role he literally wanted with Erica, it would probably be "weird gay uncle." The Sinclair fam seems relatively stable/healthy which is a rarity for these kids, but family can always expand, and Eddie is definitely angling to be another part of Erica's familial-type support network. That's just way too awkward and serious a thing to say, hence: joke about adoption.

I actually didn't mean for the Steddie part to come on so strong, but I put them in Steve's house because I thought it'd be funny to have a bit about Dustin casually breaking in to all their houses, and then it became instantly clear when Steve opened the door that the whole setup would be some kind of wild domestic fantasy for him. Like, in his head Eddie is already 100% wifed up. (Not that I think that would be a particularly comfortable dynamic for Eddie, but Steve's allowed to have his little fantasies.)

And then I just wanted to write a little bit about them being really comfortable with each other and being a team, taking care of each other as they deal with the minor inconveniences of everyday life, working together to look out for kids who are their friends but not quite their peers.

I don't think I got too deep into that particular dynamic, but it's one I'm pretty invested in; they're really only a few years older than the kids, but they're also responsible for the kids' care, and it's a very nuanced thing. I've been on both sides of that, and it's an absolutely incredible gift either way. Having friends who are a little further along their paths than you is amazing; having friends who you can provide for and support is amazing. It gives you so much perspective. I don't think of my mentees (for lack of a better word) as anything like my children, and I don't think Steve and Eddie think of the Party that way either. It's a very specific dynamic that I might need to spend more time on in a later fic.

As for the ending...normally I go hard on the pining, as y'all know by now, but this just felt like a very different thing was happening. Also, one time a girl did pull that "talk about what? lol jk come here" thing on me IRL and it was very cute.

Finally, just because I did in fact come up with them, here are the Party names and pony types:

Dustin: Jester the Pegasus Pony

Lucas: Nettle the Pegasus Pony

Mike: Skullcrusher the Earth Pony

Will: Glint the Unicorn

Eddie: Belladonna the Flutter Pony

#stranger things meta #fic commentary #fic: what will today's adventure be

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Love Grows (demon!Bucky and pre-serum!Steve omegaverse au)

26

SALT, HE FOUND, even a few grains of it, made food inedible. "That's perfectly normal," Dr. Pierce said on his fourth visit. "When your body needs it, the aversion will disappear. Meanwhile, obviously, no salt. Trust your aversions the same as you do your cravings."

Steve didn't have any cravings though. His appetite, in fact, had shrunk. A small glass of orange juice and a slice of dry toast for breakfast – that he usually vomited up soon after – some unsalted crackers for lunch, and steamed vegetables and a piece of rare meat for dinner. His routine was very solid from his day to day. Even when it came to Peggy bringing over her vitamin-enriched shakes that were watery, cold, and sour.

"What's in it?" Steve asked.

"Snips and snails and puppy-dogs' tails," Peggy said, smiling.

Steve chuckled. "That's fine. But what if we want a girl?"

"Do you?"

Steve shrugged, "I'll be happy with whatever they are."

"Well there you are."

Finishing the drink, Steve said, "No, really, what's in it?"

"Milk, a banana, some spices and herbs..."

"Terrigen root?"

"Some of that," Peggy confirmed, "Some of other things too."

Peggy brought the drink every day in the same cup, a large one with tiny red stars, and sat at the kitchen table while Steve drained it. Steve supposed that the drink wasn't so bad when he got some company while he drank it. Because, as it turned out, Hodge was spending his days filming commercials, auditioning, and going to callbacks.

Normally, Steve wouldn't have had an issue with Hodge being busy with work. But it seemed as though ever since he became pregnant, he'd been clingy and lonely. Which had never been who Steve had been. Not even when he was a loner in school who had more bullies than friends. Steve had always been very independent and enjoyed his alone time.

Except for now.

Because, now, Steve wasn't dealing with his own loneliness but also Hodge's. Loneliness that gunked up the bond and left Steve feeling cold.

One day, Steve got into a conversation while waiting for the elevator with Mrs. 12B, herself, Laura Barton. The end of it was a brunch invitation for Hodge and him for the following Sunday, but Hodge vetoed the idea when Steve told him of it.

"I'll be shooting the Old Spice commercial," Hodge reminded. Then, he teased, "Got pregnancy brain already? I thought you'd start forgetting further along."

Shrugging, Steve leaned against the doorframe as he watched Hodge shave the shadow of stubble on his face. "I just thought it'd be fun, y'know?"

"Well," Hodge sighed, rinsing the razor, "Even if I wasn't working, I'd need a day to rest. I've just been so busy that I could really use a break."

"Right, I know," Steve assured. Worrying his lower lip, he repeated, "I just thought it'd be fun."

A few nights later, Hodge had broken a dinner and theater double date they had made a few weeks earlier with Sam and Riley. Sam playfully made a big fuss about them canceling, but it still nagged at Steve and made him feel guilty. Not only for canceling, but for not having anything interesting to put in his next show. He was tempted to tell Sam to just forget it all. Steve even thought about calling the gallery owner, Thor. Of course, he didn't, but it was close.

But what got to Steve the most was when Hodge kept putting off dinner with the Erskines. Sure, the older couple knew that they were busy, yet, it got to Steve. Made him emotional. Maybe it was the hormones from the baby, but it still made him cry as he texted the old man. After all, he and his wife were like family to Steve. Especially with his real family being out of state.

And then the pain started. It started off small and subtle. A cramp here, an ache there. At first, Steve assumed that it was just gas. However, he quickly grew alarmed when a sharp, stabbing sensation pierced through his abdomen one morning.

It was enough to thoroughly frighten him as he doubled over in his pain. Reaching for his phone, he instantly dialed Dr. Pierce's office's number. The older alpha immediately wanted to see him, so Steve made his way to his office. He was still wearing his flannel pajama pants and one of Hodge's old, faded sweatshirts, not caring one bit what people thought of him. Hell, he could barely walk upright, what did he care if people took notice of what he was wearing and whether he was presentable, his baby could be in harm!

"You'll be fine," Dr. Pierce assessed after examining him. Helping him sit up, the older man assured, "It's just some normal expansion of your pelvis to better fit the baby. No need to worry."

Sighing in relief, Steve admitted, "I was afraid it might be ectopic or something."

"Ectopic?" Dr. Pierce quirked a brow. "I thought you weren't going to google symptoms."

"I couldn't help it," Steve tried to reason. "I've never felt anything like this before."

"Well, that's because you've never been pregnant before," Dr. Pierce smirked. "But remember not to do it anymore. It'll only worry you."

"I know," Steve sighed. Holding his abdomen as though he could protect his baby this way, he promised, "I won't."

"Now, I'll see you next week," Dr. Pierce decided, walking him out to the receptionist. Before Steve could get scheduled, the older alpha assured, "The pain will go away in two days."

Unfortunately, the pain didn't go away in two days. In fact they were worse and grew worse still, as if barbed wire was wrapped around his uterus and no matter how he moved, those little spurs tugged and stabbed at everything surrounding it. There would be pain for hour after hour, and then a few minutes of relative painlessness that was only the pain gathering itself for a new assault. Tylenol did little good for him and he was afraid of taking too many. Sleep, when it finally came, brought awful, terrible dreams in which he was ripped apart from the inside out by his baby chewing their way out of his womb, or him being torn apart by dozens of cannibal babies with stormy eyes and dimpled chins.

"This happens sometimes," Dr. Pierce said a few appointments later. "It'll stop any day now. Are you sure you haven't been lying about your age? Usually it's the older patients with less flexible joints who have this sort of difficulty."

At home, Peggy sat with him and said, "You poor thing. I can't even imagine. But don't fret, dear, an omega who used to live in 7F had exactly the same kind of pains, and so did two other beta women I know of. And all of their deliveries were easy and went off without a hitch, and they all had healthy babies."

"Thanks," Steve said, but his face grew pinched and wan and shadowed. He looked awful, he knew that he did. Even though Hodge and the Sousas insisted otherwise. Even with the great Angie Martinelli complimented him of his glow despite her not knowing he was expecting.

All the while, a twin lasso tightened around his heart the way that the barbed wire did to his uterus. And he couldn't help but wonder where Bucky was and what he was doing. He wanted to be around the alpha while also not wanting to be around him. After all, he didn't want anyone to see him in this state. Especially not Bucky.

[mingzisdrgongxuo]

and the SILVER car(two door, japanese, nevada plates) (seriously, ninja school), had what looked like a citation on the windshield... and some guy sleeping in it.

either undercover, or his day of sleeping in the car in august, wasn't bad enough.

the TRACTOR TRAILER that pulled the drive-by suzuki samurai commercial on the I-5 northbound this evening, was that another undercover pulling a u-turn at the intersection?.....after 1am....i presume to turn back to the aarco gas station that accomodates big rigs sitting and idling in their lot next to the northbound onramp less than a 1/2 mile south...to tell him to flex his shit?

at the same residential crosswalk, LAST NIGHT, was a SILVER minivan, parked, engine shut off, lights off, that had been sitting there, occupied with two or more people in it, then lights on started and departed, turning left, southbound, last night after i had been sitting there at the crosswalk for about 20 minutes after 2am.

what the fuck is your islamic problem.

like i said. ninja school. "get noticed". especially if you're undercover, huh.

and this YELLOW!(color means what?) TRACTOR TRAILER 18 WHEELER parked curbside....

you need confirmation on that copper penny your snitch left on the parking block ?

was that "Code" or a special message too?

exhibit A- compact disc titled- Big Black, the power of independent trucking.

track two - bad penny

musicians-steve albini, melvin belli

"i think i fucked your girlfriend once, or maybe twice, whatever... then i fucked all your friends girlfriends... now they hate you..."

and i didn't even burn one calorie even thinking about or premeditating or conspiring on this shit.

none of you are cops until you're in uniform, and speaking plainly, not this innuendo bullshit when some stooge wants to bully and call shots from behind the scenes, but has no actual authority making shit unpleasant for everybody, not legal authority, not business authority. you know authority is not a problem for me, some asshole trying to assert what is not his rank, is. ninja school dropout, mr. bust misconduct. for all intents and purposes, and all civillian life, you're organized crime to anybody that notices you.

i will not be made into the bad guy for standing my ground.

you leave calling cards like this all the time, just saying "hi" from your cat and mouse game.

everyday is murder practice to you.

you think you're slick huh?

big black this, morgan freeman truck driver, if the shoe fits, lace it up and wear it.

you intentionally stir up shit with me because you know i hate the attention, they don't need to babysit me. but you need it to keep tabs on me for some dishonest reason, your head up my ass and overstep boundaries and rape my privacy everyday. besides i think he gets off on it.

oh yeah, and another thing.. i'm sick of putting up with this chick's other dudes/fuckbois.

competition is absurd in my eyes, much less playing footsies and frotting some chick's snatch.

dodged another bullet. like i need that kind of bullshit in my life, or the added expense.

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Ooh! Also all the gay themed movies! C’mon, The Birdcage? Where Robin Williams character feels pressured to pretend to be straight? Is there any other reason to reference that movie? Idk, who knows. We’ll find out soon enough. I hope we’re correct, because the cyber bullies don’t deserve to be rewarded for their horrible behavior. I wonder if the Duffers even know how cruel some fans have been, and don’t deserve to be rewarded.

Ah, The Birdcage. To think there was a time when I saw the commercial for that movie and thought it was weird because a man was claiming to be a woman. I was so naïve as a child. This is one of my favorite movies now.

I was actually talking to @kaypeace21 not too long ago about how that movie might fit into the season. It's really hard to try and piece the movies together in any real meaningful way due to all the different possibilities in how they might be used. For example, Billy Madison is a crazy movie about a rich manchild who never actually finished school at risk of losing his inheritance. However, it also includes an entire family of bullies who victimize Billy throughout the movie, and that's something I think the Duffers may have tapped into considering we know El (if not Will also) gets bullied.

For The Birdcage, I had a couple thoughts. First, there's the dinner scene where a conservative man makes bigoted comments, totally unaware that he's having dinner with a gay couple. I thought that could be used with maybe Suzie's parents (Suzie herself seems too sweet for that) if the Pizza Party were to meet them. Hell, Mike himself might even toss around some comments to try and cover himself, unaware of the fact that they hurt Will.

The other is the scene where Armand tries to teach Albert to be more manly to hide the fact that he's gay. Someone overcompensating in an effort to seem straight is both sad and funny at the same time, so it could be a nice thing to add.

Let's not forget that Robin is around, too. Just because she came out to Steve, it doesn't mean she wants everyone to know. She might be trying to hide it, also, and either of the above situations could also apply to her.

At any rate, if we get through season 4 with no more than a couple winks and nods to Mike and/or Will being gay, then I will be quite angry. Even if they planned to do something in season 5, it would just make Robin look even more like a token gay character, considering they weren't originally planning for her to be gay (allegedly). It would also make some of the more despicable fans feel like they were right, and, as you said, they don't deserve to be rewarded.

#stranger things 4

[tlcwrites]

Two Hearts Make a Whole

Prompt: “Kiss me again, like you mean it.” Photo prompt below.

Summary: NYC Pride is for celebration, and occasionally, long-overdue revelations.

Word Count: 2,001

Tags/Content warnings: Marvel. Stucky. If you have a problem with it, there's the door. SFW. Slight TFATWS spoilers so read at your own risk. Platonic Reader. Two idiots in love. Technically canon-divergent because I'm still in my everyone-is-alive-and-in-this-timeline happy place that I will never ever leave fuck you very much Russo brothers but not AU. Found family. All the feels. Complete and total LGBTQ+ support. Lots of bad language words because #me. Un-beta'd.

Author’s Note: Okay so yes this is technically 4 weeks late for @autumnleaves1991-blog's Writer Wednesday weekly challenge. BUT, it was incredibly important to me to finish this one before Pride month is over. Made it by the skin of my teeth.

Happy Pride, y’all. If you’re out, you’re amazing. If you’re closeted, you’re amazing. However you identify is valid and important. Trans folx are LGBTQ+. Bisexuals are LGBTQ+. Ace folx are LGBTQ+. Anyone who identifies or thinks they may be as queer is LGBTQ+. All are welcome in the family. You have the right to choose your pronouns and we have the responsibility to use them. Live whatever your truth looks like to you and love each other. Love is love is love is love. If your family doesn’t accept you for you, I’m your mom now and I’ve got mom hugs available on demand. Homophobes and TERFS can fuck off and roll in poison ivy. Always punch Nazis. Pride shouldn't be limited to the month of June. And don’t you dare forget that Black and Brown trans women were the ones who rioted at Stonewall, and we owe everything to their bravery. Don’t forget that much of popular ‘gay’ culture was appropriated from Black women. And for more facts about Pride that you should absolutely know, Rawiyah Tariq (@ mammyisdead on Instagram) has a phenomenally good overview.

“Oh my god.” You gasp loudly. "Oh my GOD. Is that-"

“What?!” Instantly in First Avenger Protective Mode™️, Steve surveys the crowd, wishing he had an actual shield instead of the screen printed one on his shirt. “What is it?”

You gasp again, smacking Sam’s arm repeatedly. “OHMYGOD IT IS HOLY FUCK.”

“First; ow.” Now-Cap rubs his bicep. “Second; clue in the class before Steve has an aneurysm, please.”

Vibrating with excitement doesn’t begin to describe your current state. “HER ROYAL HIGHNESS MISS LEMON MERINGUE IS STANDING RIGHT FUCKING THERE.”

With the finesse of a shampoo commercial, Bucky's dark locks fly as he whips around. “What?!”

“RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE.” You abandon a relieved Sam and latch on to Bucky’s vibranium arm. “Oh my GOD I love her so fucking much.”

“She was robbed, absolutely fucking robbed,” he agrees, craning his neck to get a better view. “Divine Tension’s lip sync was shameful.”

Sam glances at Steve, who is slowly coming out of protector mode. “What the ever-loving hell are they talking about?”

“RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Nat flicks more confetti at both Cap-the-former and Cap-the-current. “They watch it every week.”

“Really, Steven, for a guy with enhanced super senses, you miss a lot.” Tony hefts a bedazzled Morgan higher on his back. The toddler, accompanied by Scott playing air-piano on the ground, sings along with the ABBA song being blasted at full volume through the street. Tony continues as if this is an everyday occurrence. “Why do you think both of your People disappear every Friday evening?”

Ears pink, Steve mumbles something.

“What?!” The only other one with hearing enhanced enough to hear a murmur over the cacophony of several thousand people belting out the chorus of ‘Dancing Queen’ at the top of their lungs, Bucky turns to stare at his friend. “You thought we were datin’?”

Steve’s blush extends down his neck.

You and Bucky stare at each other for a moment before you both collapse on each other, exploding into stomach clenching, thigh slapping laughter.

“I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no’?” Clint confirms with Nat.

“Oh, a big ‘no’.” She watches affectionately as you and Bucky calm down enough to look at each other, breathe for a second, and both promptly dissolve into hysterics once more. “Like, the biggest ‘no’.”

Sam crossed his arms across his chest, his stoic stance so reminiscent of Steve it’s amusing (as well as a beautiful disparity to the sequined crop top he’s sporting. Oof, those abs.). “How do I not know about this?”

“Because you’re not a former super spy?” The usually-Black-but-today-Rainbow Widow tosses the last of her confetti at Tony, who spins a jubilant Morgan into it. “Or because you and that leggy barista from the lobby coffee shop are too busy playing hide-the-“

“-Baby Shark!” Morgan suddenly shrieks, flailing towards a guy on roller blades wearing a fin and tail (and not much else).

“Yeah,” Nat finishes with a smirk, “Hide-the-Baby Shark.”

Sam flips her a gesture that makes Clint laugh and Bruce sigh.

You and Bucky have finally managed to pull yourselves together. “Oh my god, Steven Grant,” you gasp, wiping tears from your eyes. “That’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve ever fucking heard.”

“Language!”

Steve glares at Tony. “One. Time. It was one. Time.”

Bucky slings his flesh arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Oh, punk. You may have perfect vision now, but sometimes you’re still as blind as you were before.”

Visiortn himself nods sagely. “Humans can be quite unperceptive when it comes to matters of the heart.” Vision casts a fond smile at Wanda, who is using her powers to make Pietro’s tinsel wig fly on and off. “Sometimes you have to look harder to see what’s right in front of your nose.”

A confused frown on that handsome face, Captain Clueless looks at Bucky. “Why do I feel like everyone else knows something that I don’t?”

His bestie sighs deeply. “Because, Stevie, almost everyone else on this planet knows that my tastes tend towards tall, blonde, blue-eyed knuckleheads who have zero sense of self-preservation.”

“And an ass you could bounce a quarter off of,” Scott helpfully supplies.

“And that,” Bucky agrees.

Steve frowns.

You press your palms to your eyes in vexation. “You, Steve. He’s talking about you.” (Seriously, how has this idiot survived for over a century while being so dumb?)

Whatever he was expecting, it was certainly not that. “He-“ The Man With A Plan gapes as he turns to his oldest friend. “You-“

“Me,” Bucky says gently.

Even though you’re slightly surprised that Bucky is going to do this in such a public forum, you can’t help but be so proud of your friend. It has taken a long time for Bucky to believe he deserves to be happy. There are days he still sinks into that dark place, where his inner demons whisper that he should have fought harder against his Hydra captors, and that his past actions were still somehow his fault. Those are the days no amount of baking or Modern Marvels will bring him out of his funk. You, Steve, Sam, and Nat have all held those strong shoulders as they shook with sobs, overwhelmed by the shame and horror at what his hands had done without his consent.

But he’s here. He’s free. And he’s smiling nervously at his best friend.

“I-” Steve is short-circuiting. “Me?!”

“Stevie.” With the kind of tender patience that can only be born of a lifetime of keeping (or attempting to keep) an idiot such as one Steven Grant Rogers from flinging himself headlong into every fight he comes across, Bucky moves his flesh hand to the back of Steve’s neck. His face is full of such soft affection that you almost want to look away for fear of intruding on this suddenly intimate moment. “What do you think ‘til the end of the line’ means, you idiot? You’ve been it for me since I was thirteen-years-old.”

Blue eyes are locked with blue eyes as Steve processes this revelation. “I-” He shakes his head as if to declutter his thoughts. “This whole time?”

“Since the first time I saw that asshole knock you down, and your scrawny ass climbed right back up.” A wry chuckle escapes as Bucky reminices. “You were ninety pounds soaking wet, and you stood there, against a guy who was three times your size, and never waivered for a second. It was magnificent.”

“I don’t like bullies,” is Steve’s quiet response.

Bucky’s grin is adoring. “I know, sweetheart.” He gently strokes the back of Steve’s neck with his thumb. “You’ve always had a heart way bigger than your brain.”

Steve is still back on the first part of Bucky’s admission. “If you’ve felt- if you-” He’s practically pleading. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

Bucky shrugs, attempting and failing nonchalance. “It was a different time, you know?” He’s uncharacteristically unsure of himself, the subtle waiver in his voice revealing the anxiety born of a lifetime of being forced to hide his truth. “I mean, you remember how it was; you didn’t talk about, no one talked about- about being- about people like...” He swallows thickly.  “And I was so scared you didn’t, that you weren’t-” His voice breaks.

Even though you’ve all been emotionally invested in this love story for years, the entire team respectfully pretends not to listen as the former Winter Soldier quietly admits his deepest secret to his closest friend. It’s enraging as Bucky confesses yet another way he's been a victim of his circumstances, and denied his right to live freely without derision. Once more, you’re awed by his resilience.

“-it was a risk I couldn’t take,” Bucky finally gets out, that stubborn fire back in his eyes. “I couldn’t lose you, Steve. I couldn’t chance it. I could live with just being your friend and only your friend so long it meant you were in my life.”

Stunned silence meets the end of his confession. Steve’s face is impassive, those cerulean eyes uncharacteristically inscrutable.

You can all tell Bucky is heading steadily towards dread and heartbreak the longer Steve takes to respond. You and Sam exchange a look, both ready to intervene if Steve demonstrates any of the abhorrent attitudes that were so prevalent in the society of his youth. It would be completely out of character for him, but...

Finally, Steve speaks. “You’re telling me,” he says, his words slow and deliberate, “that you made me wait ninety-three years to tell me you’ve felt the same way about me as I have about you since the day you picked me up out of that alley?!”

The whole found family breaths a collective sigh of relief as Steve pulls Bucky even closer, broad chest to broad chest.

“Okay, to be fair, you were an ice cube for most of that time and I wasn’t exactly available for a relationship.” Bucky’s grin stands in contradiction to his mullish defense. “But yeah, that’s the gist of it.” There’s the Bucky you all know and love, biting his lip with those perfect white teeth. “Now, punk, I’d really like to kiss you now, but first I need you to say you want me to.”

“You-” Steve’s throat works as he attempts- and fails- to rein in his emotions. “You jerk.”

And then the Star Spangled Man seizes the president of the Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club by his ridiculously perfect face and crashes their mouths together.

At any Pride event, seeing two men kissing is, obviously, to be expected. But seeing The First Avenger and The White Wolf attempting to swallow each other’s tongues is not at all routine. As people realize what is happening, the crowd is whipped into a frenzy the likes of which is usually reserved for the aftermath of sporting events and elections that defeat fascists.

Watching the two men embrace, Scott sniffles loudly. “I’m gonna cry, I’m so happy.”

He’s certainly not the only one. Wanda has a watery smile as she wraps her arms around Vision and Pietro; Pepper, Tony, and Bruce are watching with fond parental energy; you and Sam sandwich Peter between the two of you, grins practically splitting your faces. Even Nat’s eyes look suspiciously shiny and she and Clint sling their arms around each other with platonic affection. And that’s not counting the several thousand people who are cheering for love being love being love being love.

When they finally break their embrace, the Centennial twins are startled to see they’ve collected quite an audience.

“Uh, so…” Suddenly bashful, Steve glances back to his- partner? Boyfriend? Soulmate? Is there a word that can accurately describe two people who have found each other time and again in a world that seems hell-bent on keeping them apart?- his ears practically maroon with embarrassment. For a guy with one of the most-recognized faces in the world, Steve is still incredibly and endearingly uncomfortable with attention. “Buck?”

Bucky seems just as stunned as Steve.

Thankfully, the masses demonstrate the usual support that’s the hallmark of Pride. “LOVE IS LOVE!” someone screams in the crowd. It’s quickly echoed, and chants fill the park.

The attention momentarily off them, the former Winter Soldier and his giant himbo of a soulmate look back at each other. You pretend not to watch through the happiest tears as they embrace again, bringing their foreheads together. The relief they share is palpable, as they’re finally able to show the world- and each other- the love they’ve each hidden for so long.

Bucky’s voice is so soft you have to strain to hear it. “You have no idea how much m’in love with you, Stevie.”

“Pretty sure I do,” Steve answers, bringing a hand up to carefully wipe the tears from Bucky’s face. “‘cause it’s as much as I love you, Buck.”

Bucky's answering grin can only be described as saucy. “Then kiss me again, like you mean it.”

And Steve, for once in his long life, does exactly as ordered.

---

A/N: “The Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club” is from Starry_Emerald173’s BRILLIANT The Avengers Wrangler over on AO3. If you haven’t read it yet, drop what you’re doing and do so immediately. Make sure you're not drinking any liquids, or your keyboard/phone may be in peril.

#writer wednesday #steve x bucky #stucky #steve rogers fic #pride #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #love is love #happy pride #steve rogers x bucky barnes #platonic reader #my writing

[eueden]

 ⟨ MAUDE APATOW. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, EDEN KOPPELMAN is actually a descendent of H E S T I A. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-THREE year old VETERINARY from CAPE TOWN, SOUTH AFRICA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite THOUGHTFUL & QUIXOTIC.

hi, hello, allô, hola, ciao, ella here again with another character. okay so there’s not much to say about me that most of you don’t already know, i have no life and i’m always lurking even if i never do replies (don’t tell the admins) hgsghssghs anyway, this is eden and in a shocking turn of events i actually have a good idea of who she is and look i even made a graphic, if that’s ain’t dedication then i don’t what it is.

basic information.

NAME: eden atara koppelman

PRONUNCIATION: EE - d uh n

NICKNAME: E?? idk

GENDER: cis female

PLACE OF BIRTH: brisbane, queensland, australia

HOMETOWN: cape town, south africa

DATE OF BIRTH: june 26, 1997

AGE: twenty-three

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual so far but secretly curious

MAJOR: veterinary

EXTRACURRICULARS: president of the jewish student association, vice president of the herpetology club, president of the volunteer service, women in leadership member, student government member

SPORTS: captain of the climbing team and co-captain of the track & field team

character inspo.

Jessica Day (New Girl) ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

Elliott Reid (Scrubs) ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

Amy Santiago (Brooklyn 99) ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

background.

tw: death, infant death, car accident, fire

Eden was born in Brisbane, Australia. She comes from an animal lover family. Her grandparents are very popular down under because they had an animal TV show à la Steve Irwin. Her dad followed their footsteps and it’s a well-known zoologist who also had some TV shows (think of Bear Grylls).

TW: death, infant death, car accident. Matthias Koppelman (her dad) had been previously married but lost his wife and child in a car accident and after that he isolated himself from the public eye and moved to Namibia. 

At twenty-eight, he felt the need to climb Mount Everest as one does, ya know? But ofc this man hadn’t climbed in years (he had experience but he’d been too sad to climb mountains. I mean he could barely leave bed, let alone climb Everest). That didn’t stop him and he did.

He almost d worded there bc as I said he was not ready but that’s when Hestia queen of fire showed up and warmed him (in a non sexual way bc she’s pure okay) and he was like oh that was a near dead experience and didn’t think much.

After he conquered the Everest with the help of Hestia, he moved back to Australia and oh surprise a few months later he opened his door and voilá a bebé was there with a note that said “you deserve to have a family, love hestia” 

He was shocked like “did i just impregnate a fantasy?”  but then Hestia was kind enough to send another and explain everything.

Anyway, Eden lived in Brisbane for four years before her dad took a job in South Africa. They moved to Cape Town (and her grandparents came with them) and pretty much had a happy life surrounded by animals. 

TW: fire. When she was nine, her dad took her to a game reserve in Limpopo and by some reason a fire started endangering animals and flora. Everyone was panicking bc I mean wouldn’t u? But Eden was attracted to the flames like a pyro (the good kind tho) and since everyone had better things to do than taking care of a child, they left her unsupervised and she delved into the fire.

Ofc nothing happened to her because ✨immunity✨ but guess who showed up again? Hestia!!!! Being a great goddess and mom, she taught Eden how to use her powers so she could absorb the fire and save all the animals and people. 

Everyone was like holy shit a miracle and the firefighters were like “the fuck? we did shit but we gonna take the credit lol”

Eden was like “did that just happen?” and yes, it did but she was like “meh that was imagination” and her dad was like *nervous chuckle* “yeah…” because he didn’t want to tell her the truth since that could put her in danger.

At 13, she had her bat mitzvah and it was all fun and games until fire lady showed up aka Hestia. Her dad and Hestia explained everything and Eden was like: 

Hestia claimed her and off to camp she went. For the next few years she went to camps all over the world as a treat.

She never went on a quest bc she was afraid and also because she couldn’t put herself in danger and risk losing her life bc her dad already had lost a child… so yeah

Her dad remarried when she was seventeen and a year later she welcomed a new baby brother and that’s why she decided to take a gap year to be with her bro and also work with her dad in the reserves.

She moved to Athens when she was nineteen and decided to go into veterinary school. So yes Ella will get her dog one way or another idc what the admins say :chaos:

Ahhhh that’s all folks!!! We did it!

FULL BIO (yes, i completed it this time)

personality.

Eden never loses her sense of curiosity. You could say that she sees life through rose colored glasses as if she lived on the edge of a mirror country where worldly objects come to life, where flora and fauna assume almost human qualities.  

She has the ability to see the good in almost anyone or anything and tends to sympathize with even the most unfriendly person. She often hides the extreme depth of feelings from her, even from herself, until circumstances elicit a passionate response. 

She has a deep sense of idealism that comes from a strong personal sense of right and wrong. She sees the world as a place full of possibilities and potentials and is governed by her intuition. She is quite reserved and is not easily manipulated. 

She is a good listener and considerate, they try to care for and understand others in a deep way. She can be very calm and intuitive with the people around her, being able to search for hidden meanings in the actions and words of others.

Of course, all of life is not rosy and Eden is not exempt from suffering the same disappointments and frustrations that are common to others. She tends to be a perfectionist and often strives for personal ideals that can be exhausting or very difficult to obtain.

She also struggles with time management, always leaving everything to the last minute claiming she “works better under pressure” but the truth is she’s just a procrastinator. 

Very sensible, she cries almost every day either because of a commercial or a sweet story she read on Facebook. It doesn’t matter, if it’s slightly emotional she will shed some tears.

powers.

pyrokinesis: This power first manifested when she was nine years old and she helped to save an animal reserve from the flames with the help of Hestia. Since she was claimed when she was thirteen, she’s learned how to use this power. Now she can summon fire without any problem and put it out just as fast. This is very helpful because she loves baking but she’s a bit clumsy so she often burns herself, but thankfully, she’s immune, so no pain. However, Eden has never been able to create a hot wall of flames nor she has ever asked how to do that, she just hopes she never has to use it.

serenity inducement: Eden avoids conflict at all cost, not only it makes her cry but also makes her very uncomfortable and anxious which is why this was the first power she manifested. She was just a child but from what she remembers it was during a class in preschool that a kid started hitting another one. Eden panicked at such an act of violence she went there and touched the bully’s shoulder which immediately calmed him. Back then she didn’t know it was a power but after finding out about her true identity, many other events like this started to make sense. This is the power she uses the most, also with animals which is why she makes such a good veterinarian because she can calm an animal's nerves.

bond manipulation: She wouldn’t say this is one of her weakest powers but it’s one she didn’t use often growing up because she came from such a stable family that it didn’t seem necessary, however, she sometimes catches herself using it in group projects or at her workplace, you know, to keep things healthy and positive.

ability to summon food: By far the one she uses the least (personally speaking), she likes cooking and baking, so she doesn’t see the point but she does use it to feed stray animals.

headcanons.

Eden speaks fluent English, she has a mixed South African and Australian accent but she can switch. At school, half of her classes were in Afrikaans, so she also speaks it fluently. Greek comes from her demigod side, but she also took some classes back in school upon her father’s request. Growing up in a very Jewish family, her grandparents believed it was pretty important that Eden learned Yiddish and Hebrew, she can read it perfectly but struggles speaking it, especially Yiddish because she also attended Hebrew school. As for French, she learned in high school and she still takes lessons at Eonia but she hates it.

Her father started taking her to a climbing gym when she was five and by the time she was ten she was already climbing 6a routes which is pretty much an intermediate level and very impressive for her age. 

She had her own TV show on Discover Kids titled “Eden’s Wildlife Adventure” in which she explained the importance of different types of animals. The first seasons were shot between Australia and South Africa, but in later seasons she traveled across Africa and South America. The show ran from 2005-2011 (which was when she was claimed).

Dreams of climbing Mount Everest before her 30th birthday.

Her father is a classic rock band and so is she. Her animals have been named after influential musicians. Right now she has a cat named Hendrix, a horse named Cobain, a dog named Mick. Growing up her father took care of a baby lion which they named Little Richard because he was smaller than most lion cubs. Over the years, his father and grandparents have fostered several wild animals while they recover or before they are sent to a reserve. Among the animals they have fostered are elephants, giraffes, zebras, cheetahs, leopards, hippos and more.

While she loves rock, she’s also a sucker for 2000s pop. Please don’t ask her about modern artists because she’s clueless. 

She’s fed up with the Mean Girl jokes, we get it she grew up in Africa and she’s white.

She is a proud Jewish girl and follows many traditions. She does attend the local synagogue during Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah. And of course, Hanukkah is her favorite holiday. Her family practices Reform Judaism, so she doesn’t follow a kosher diet.

Eden was raised as a vegan and her whole family is vegan. In the past years, she has been in the process of becoming vegetarian.

Favorites: Anything written by Agatha Christie(book); Say Anything (1989) (movie); Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fear (song); 

Again, no one asked me but I will reply: “Ella, does Eden hate Iker?” “Well, thanks for asking. In a shocking turn of events, no she doesn’t. How come you might ask? Well, she doesn’t hate anyone but if she ever did then yes, she would hate him.”

pinterest | wanted connections

#euintro

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[ourdreamsrealized]

Your Elusive Enigmatic Soulmate

P R O L O G U E

Chapter: P 

A/N: So...re-post of the prologue. I remember writing this back in 2017. I was at work, doing secretary things, and I’d take a break every so often just to type up a few paragraphs on my phone. The Google Docs app became my best friend, and I got so much writing done during work--which, isn’t setting a good example. Don’t do what I did unless you know for certain that you can get away with it and you’re bored out of your mind. 

I also lost my tag list because I was being stupid. Please feel free to add yourself to my Google Doc or ask me to add you. 

Pairing: Steve Trevor x Reader

Synopsis: You have been waiting your whole life for your soulmate, and it seems that just as you are about to give up on love, he shows up. However, he seems to be ignoring the biological, spiritual fact that the two of you are in fact meant to be.

Rated: Teen & Up

Warnings: Angst, Funerals, Mention of Character Death

You were the type of person that never cried. You didn't tear up while watching those sappy commercials or bittersweet moments in movies. You didn’t break down and sob for joy when you got that promotion. You didn’t sniffle when the kids would bully you at school.

You didn't even shed a drop when your boyfriend of two and a half years broke up with you or when you realized he had cheated on you with your cousin.

You didn't cry when your soulmate said he could never love you.

But now, several days later, at a funeral, you found yourself behind a weeping willow--how ironic--bawling your eyes out, the priest’s voice in the background the only thing to offer some comfort.

It was raining. Misting was a better word. Your hair was a mess. Your makeup was ruined.

You were becoming the total opposite of your usually composed self. And god, you hated it.

You hated this funeral. You hated that you would have to go to the reception afterwards and smile and pretend everything is so fucking wonderful in your perfect put-together life. You hated that you’d have to mingle and hear your family swoon over your cousin and her new fiancé--your ex--and how they are soulmates.

It didn't matter that he cheated on you. It didn't matter that your best friend in the whole wide world just died. It didn't matter that your soulmate rejected you. It didn't matter that you would continue to be alone while everyone else found their own happiness.

You had to move on with your life and somehow live with yourself.

And maybe it was a good thing your soulmate didn't want to share it with you. He was an asshole through and through, but you thought he would be decent enough to show up to this funeral.

But what did you know about him?

Nothing, apparently.

You thought back over the past year. Year? Had it really been that long? You couldn't believe it...and the fact it had been such a span of time made you croak, another sob ripping through your throat.

God, it was the best and worst year of your existence. You were sure of it, even if you were only a quarter of a century old. Sure, your soul was much older than that...and you couldn't remember the events of your past lives...or what kind of role your soulmate played in them.

Did he reject you then, too? Were you destined to live each life with a soulmate that did not love you? His soul was tied to yours for all eternity, and while both of you could love others, no amount of passion or affection could compare to what was between the two of you.

So why? Why was he so cruel?

Had you done something to him in a past life? But even if you had, he wouldn't be able to remember. He shouldn't be able to remember.

No soulmate can until…

You glanced down at your wrist, sniffling as you slowly lifted the bandage to reveal the small cut you had given yourself...It was meant to cut through the date so you wouldn't have to see it, but you weren’t able to bring yourself to cut deep enough to cause a scar…

The date would still haunt you. That beautiful early spring day would be a permanent thorn in your heart.

And so would he, your elusive, enigmatic soulmate.

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[santheweird]

Hey Sarge! (Chapter 6)

Summary: Due to the lack of jobs because of World War 2, Alexander Sami Hale joined the army to keep her family’s head above the water.

She falsified her enlistment form, convincing the officials that she was actually a boy named Alexander Hale.

When her sergeant, James Barnes, was captured by the German forces during a battle in Azzano, Alex went AWOL to aid a man named Steve Rogers to rescue his best friend.

This is her story.

Warnings: War flashbacks, mentions of PTSD, survivor's guilt

~

It was easy to find the two who had stormed the commands tent.

A day after the 107th came back from Azzano battle-weary and in low spirits, some sort of USO troop came to camp. Alex wasn't there, but apparently some man named Captain America came to talk to the troops and “raise their morale”. Alex guessed that it didn't work, but she heard that the soldiers had a ball of time bullying poor Cappy off the stage.

Since she had never seen that blond before, she had her suspicions that that man came from the USO troop circuit, so after gathering what she might need, she headed towards the backstage of the ridiculous looking stage at the edge of the base camp.

Convincing them to bring her along was a whole ‘nother thing though.

Alex swallowed thickly at the twin looks of surprise directed at her after she voiced her request.

The female officer spoke first. “I know that we should be the last ones to tell you that you’re planning on doing something extremely reckless, but we’re going to have to say no.”

Alex stamped down a wave of indignation. “Why?”

“You’re injured, and you just came back from a terrible battle a few days ago. You should focus on resting up and recuperating-”

“With all due respect Ma’am, I’ve done enough resting.” Alex interrupted. “And recuperating. And thinking. I’m not gonna sit here all day moping over our defeat when hundreds of our comrades are locked up as prisoners and suffering. Barnes saved my sorry ass, and I’m not going to let this-” Alex gestured at her bandaged face and arm. “Get in the way of rescuing him.”

“You know Bucky?” The man spoke for the first time since Alex entered the tent.

She nodded. “I’m from the 107th. He’s my sergeant. You know him, right?”

“Yeah.” The blond pressed his lips into a firm line.

“You wanna save him, right?”

“Of course!”

“Then bring me with you.” Alex begged. Under the bandages on her face, the still healing skin stretched painfully, but she ignored it, determined to convince the two to let her tag along. “Like what Phillips said, the prisoners are in a heavily fortified fortress with some of the best defense systems in the country. You’re gonna need all the help you can get.”

The two turned to each other, and a silent conversation seemed to transpire between the pair. After a brief moment of silence, before they both looked away.

“You’re right. We won’t be able to pull it off without any help.” The man trained his eyes on Alex. “But if you do this, you will get in trouble for straying.”

Alex returned his gaze. “I don’t care. Bucky risked his life to save mine. I’m willing to do the same for him.”

The man nodded in acknowledgment, a trace of regard in his eyes.

“If the both of you are done posturing, we have to go now.” The female officer spoke, clearing her throat. “I know someone who can take us to the enemy base, but we’ll have to go before anyone catches us leaving.

Alex let the corners of her mouth twitch up slightly. “I’m Alexander Hale.”

“Peggy Carter. Pleased to meet you.”

“And I’m Steve Rogers.” The man picked up the pack and shield(?) at his feet.

Alex frowned at the familiar name.

“Steve Rogers? As in-” Her eyes widened. “YOU’RE THAT STEVE ROGERS?”

~commercial break~

(Lmao jk)

It was actually a good thing that Carter and Rogers decided to allow Alex to tag along. If they didn’t, Alex would have headed to the enemy fortress by herself, distance be damned. The thing was that since half of her rifle was obliterated by a deadly beam of blue light back in Azzano, Alex would have been diving head first into the base with only an old and slightly rusted revolver.

Good thing that wasn’t the case.

Carter supplied her with another rifle that didn’t seem prone to jamming halfway through battle, along with a small-ish knife which might come in useful. Rogers refused any weapons and instead brought a thin, kite-shaped aluminium shield ridiculously decorated with stars and stripes.

(She later learned that it was actually a stage prop and not an actual shield.)

Shortly after Carter had briefed them on the location of the German base and gave them a transponder to contact them for extraction, anti-aircraft guns had started shooting at them. Immediately forgoing the initial plan of letting the plane take them all the way to the enemy base itself, Rogers had bullheadedly decided to jump out of the plane into the surrounding forest instead. It was stupid, since there was a higher chance of getting impaled by a branch hidden by the darkness, but Alex understood that he did it so that the pilot would be able to steer the plane safely out of the enemy airspace.

It didn’t stop her from cussing at Rogers in her head though.

When they finally landed on the ground (Rogers was terrible at steering a parachute), Alex fiercely yanked the man down to the ground as a line of trucks rumbled past. Their breathing felt extremely loud for once, and Alex half thought that the sound would give them away. It thankfully (and obviously) didn’t, but Alex still warned Rogers to stay down low.

She grabbed a fistful of mud from the ground and smeared it all over the shield strapped to his back. The colour had been bothering her for a while now, and the red, white and blue was practically a beacon to any enemy soldiers out there.

“Follow my movements as we head to the base.” She whispered. “Go down when I go down, and only move forward when it’s all clear. Always stay in a crouch, and never stand unless absolutely necessary.”

Rogers nodded wordlessly, but Alex still kept a close eyes on him just in case.

As they moved silently under the cover of the darkness, Alex observed him through the corner of her eye. Rogers moved as if he was used to being small and not to attract attention. There was also a certain...clumsiness to the way he moved. Like a toddler. He still did a good job in hiding his enormous build and bulk though.

Either way, Alex was still confused as to why Bucky had said that she was so similar to Steve Roger. Not in temperament, but physically.

She filed her questions away for later, and there was several moments of tense and almost palpable silence before Rogers spoke up.

“Those trucks were heading to the HYDRA base.”

“Yeah.” HYDRA?

“Think we can hitch a ride?”

Alex stopped abruptly. Rogers didn’t manage to catch himself in time and nearly bumped into her.

“What do you mean ‘hitch a ride’?” She muttered, her brain working a mile a minute.

“There’s another line of those trucks coming up behind us soon. If we manage to get into the one at the back, it’ll save us a lot more time and let us get into the base.”

Alex cocked her head to the side, and sure enough, she could hear a faint rumble of engines coming up through the forest. How did he manage to hear them from so far away? She mulled over his proposed plan for a bit, and shrugged. It should be feasible, and saved them from the later headache of trying to go through the fortified security of the area.

They ducked behind some bushes as the sound of engines grew louder. They waited until the second-last truck barely rumbled past, before Rogers whispered a barely audible ‘Now!’ and they raced across to the back of the last truck, grabbing hold of the back of the cargo bed and hauling themselves under the tonneau.

Alex exhaled, and looked up. Two enemy soldiers stared back at them.

It was to be expected, really.

When the enemy soldiers charged, Rogers automatically went for the one on the right, leaving Alex to deal with the one on the left. Before he could fire, Alex shoved the barrel of his gun upwards and rammed her elbow into his stomach.

The soldier folded in into himself with a groan. She wrenched the gun away from him completely, and slammed the butt of the gun to his head, knocking him out.

Alex's shoulder twinged painfully and she scowled, hoping that the stitching wouldn't come out in the middle of this operation. They were in enough danger as of now, she didn't need her injuries fucking up everything.

Rogers peeked through the gaps between the cloth, the second guard similarly knocked out at his feet. Before tying the two guards up, Alex stripped one of them of their outerwear, putting it on over her old, tattered, blood-stained uniform. She picked up the gun that was dropped, and bile rose in her throat when she recognised the blue gleam on it.

It was the same type of gun which had wiped out more than half of the regiment. It obviously wasn’t the exact same one which had killed her friends, but seeing it up close in her hands suddenly made her think of their agonized screams when they disappeared into dust, the entire battlefield full of the sharp, strong smell of burnt human flesh. Layers of thickened petrol on her hands and face, scorching hot and suffocating, the air so thick with fumes that she was practically choking-

“-ale? Hale?!”

Alex jerked her head upwards, wide-eyed and trembling. The gun in her hands had dropped to the floor again and she was clutching at the bandages on the side of her face. The truck was slowing down, and Rogers was a few inches away from her, a hand outstretched.

Alex jerked away from the concerned hand. “Don’t touch me.” She gripped her hands to stop them from shaking. “Please, don’t.”

The man withdrew his hand immediately, concern etched on his face. Alex turned away. She yanked the guard’s helmet off his head and onto hers, completing her imperfect disguise. The visor in front covered up her bandages completely, which was a relief. She had covered it with camouflage paint to prevent the stark white from showing up in the darkness of the forest, but it would seem more conspicuous in the factory than in the foliage.

“What- why… what are you… doing?” Rogers gestured at Alex’s outfit, the uniform bulging out at awkward places due to the bulk of other clothes underneath.

Alex flipped the visor up, trying to plaster a smile on her face. It looked more like a grimace. “Not sure about you, but I don’t think I would like running around in the enemy base in an American uniform.” She joked weakly, adjusting the helmet.

He was about to open his mouth to reply, but the truck slowed to a stop. They snapped their gaze towards the back of the truck, where a soldier might yank open the tonneau and reveal the two stowaways inside. Rogers took off the shield on his back and slowly slid it onto his arm, moving to the left of the entrance. Alex flanked the right.

They stayed there, waiting, until Rogers tilted his head slightly, as if trying to hear something.

“There’s someone approaching. Just one person though.”

Before Alex could even ask how the hell he knew that, the cloth was pulled open. And Steve Rogers smacked the shield right on the poor guy’s face.

Alex reached out and grabbed the the straps on the man’s uniform before he could fall to the ground. With a grunt, she pulled the unconscious body into the truck as Rogers kept a lookout. After gagging and tying up all three of the soldiers, she jumped out of the truck lightly after Rogers, ducking into the shadows as they swiftly made their way into the depths of the factory.

~

Finding out where the prisoners were kept was so laughingly easy that Alex had a brief thought at the back of her mind that they were walking into a trap. She had distracted a guard in her disguise as Rogers snuck up behind him and grabbed him. The soldier gave them the location in stuttered, broken English, before they left him bound and gagged behind a pile of boxes in a dark corner.

As she fished out the ring of keys that she found from another unconscious guard’s pocket, Alex half thought that a group of enemy soldiers would jump out from several hiding places ad open fire on them.

As Rogers spoke to the P.O.Ws in the cells, Alex tried every single key on the ring to find out which was the right fit. She cursed when her vision blurred slightly and missed the keyhole.

“Hale, you alright?” Rogers asked, his voice low.

“Yeah, it’s just-” She made a noise of triumph when a key finally turned in the lock with a satisfying click.

Alex steadily worked on all the other cell doors as Rogers gathered the soldiers round. There was a diverse mix of Allied soldiers all around, and they murmured quietly amongst themselves to avoid making too much noise.

When she unlocked the final cell, Alex looked up and relief rushed through her at the sight of two familiar faces.

“Dugan! Jones!”

Gabe Jones was the first to recognize her voice. “Alex? What are you doing here? And in that uniform?”

A grin spread across her face as she took off her helmet. “It’s just a disguise. Cap’n America himself wanted to break in to rescue everyone, and I couldn’t just sit still-”

“Christ, kid! What happened to your face?”

Alex scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “Don’t worry bout it, mostly stupidity on my part.” She scanned the sea of faces briefly. “Where’s Sarge?”

Their expressions changed. Dugan and Jones glanced at each other, their features unreadable.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Before either one could answer, a voice commanded the attention of everyone in the room.

“All right. The tree line is northwest, 80 yards past the gate.” His voice was low and hurried. “Get out fast and give 'em hell. I'll meet you guys in the clearing with anybody else I find.”

“Wait, you know what you're doing?”

“Yeah. I've knocked out Adolf Hitler over 200 times.”

Alex doubted that. Without a word to Dugan and Jones, she silently slipped away after Rogers. He startled when she fell into step with him a few minutes later.

“Do you actually know where to go?”

A pause. “No.”

Alex snorted, before fixing the helmet back over her head. “Guess we’ll have to ask someone again for directions.”

~

Notes:

- Well, shit. Please don't kill me about the terrible update intervals.

- I'm working on trying to be more consistent, and setting proper goals for myself. At the moment, I have to force myself to see that I'm only able to update once a month, although I'm itching to try to finish and upload a chapter every week.

- I got a good friend of mine to beta read for me, and also to provide a fresh perspective into my chapters, so that I can continue to upload quality works for all you wonderful people! (And also cause my tenses need a lot of work)

- However, she's a student, like me. We both have our responsibilities, and I really don't want to pressure her into meticulously reading through this story when she's already stressed out by other things. That's why there might be a slight delay between chapter updates and the like. We're sticking to monthly updates for now, but there might be slight changes when our timetables change or when exams arrive.

- (this is the February update btw)

- I'm also working on a bit of a buffer for between uploads so that if anything happens, at least I'll still be able to upload a chapter for the month!

- Alright, now to talk about the chapter!

- I have to admit, this is not my best chapter, and I really wish that I could edit this better, but the more I look at it, the more I hit a blank wall.

- Having to adhere to movie canon and what actually goes on in the scenes were more difficult than I thought, but I've dug my grave and I'm going to lie in it. It's what I planned on, it's what I'm gonna do.

- (And also because I rewrote this thing three times (not including scene rewrites) and I don't wanna work on it anymore. The more this sits in the 'not uploaded yet' pile, the more I want to sink into my pillows and scream.)

- To be honest, this chapter is more of a filler than anything. Just to establish Steve and Alex's encounter and relationship and impressions of each other.

- In army squadrons, there are different roles for each soldier. Alex is the scout, which is why she knows how to sneak around in a forest undetected. The disguise part is more of a 'done on a whim' sorta thing, but it still works.

- I haven't placed much emphasis on Alex's injuries (burn and shrapnel wounds hurt like a fucking bitch) but they are plot relevant in the series. Not just for the next chapter, but also further on as the story progresses.

- That's about all I have for now! Hope you enjoyed, and hit me up at the ask box for anything you wanna tell me!

- (Also the formatting might be fucked up since I'm doing this on mobile. Will edit properly later on)

Tags:

@mizz-kraziii @cami23593 @beautiful-aravis @buckybarnesneedscuddles @dottirose @katykyll @frittiefries @chipilerendi @fandomsandahintofmagic @jaditestuff @nxxdyh @myrabbitholetoneverland

Chapter 5 Chapter 7

Masterlist

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #1940s bucky #bucky x reader #ca:tfa #captain america #my writing #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x oc #1940s bucky x reader #the first avenger #1940s bucky barnes #captain america:the first avenger #fanfiction #hey sarge! #marvel #peggy carter

[steverogersified]

My problem with the thought of Steve dying in the MCU is as follows (and I admit a lot of this is inspired from another post I saw on the subject and I agreed wholeheartedly with the person who wrote it, so if it seems I’m reiterating points already discussed, I am, I own it).

Steve would die with experiencing no growth. Not only that, it sets a rather bad precedence.

I’ll explain:

Steve grew up sickly during the Great Depression. This led him to believe, as Ta-Nehisi Coates so beautifully put in Steve’s recent comics, that Steve didn’t feel like ‘a man’. He felt lesser. As a result, he never learned to value himself. Everyone else’s life was more valuable than his own.

Proof of that is this, scene, here:

Steve, in the MCU, has never had a problem with sacrificing himself. It’s been his life’s motto. Because his childhood bullying and the time period in which he was raised taught him to believe that he was lacking and less deserving of a place in society. That he fit better as a sacrificial lamb.

The sad thing in all of this that by first being sickly, and then later being largely only seen by others in the context of Captain America - The Symbol™ and not Steve Rogers - The Man™ (reinforcing the belief that Steve, by himself, wasn’t enough), is that Steve has never learned how to live.

In the comics Steve has been in and out of love. He’s worked as a commercial artist and a comic artist. He’s been to Wakanda, he’s been to Atlantis. He’s had the ears of kings and gods. He’s been to space, he’s met aliens of all kinds. He’s been engaged, he’s had his heart broken, only to have it be mended again with a different partner. He’s been on a couple of road trips around America. He’s lived a full life.

MCU!Steve has not. And if he dies by sacrificing himself in Avengers 4 he would have never learned to value himself nor learn to live life to its fullest. 

Bullied children can grow up and thrive. Sick children can grow up and thrive. Soldiers can come home and adjust and find their groove again - it can get better! Killing Steve without him having learned any of that would be exactly the wrong message to send.

I will be immensely disappointed in Feige if this is the route he chose to go in which to end Steve’s arc.

#steve rogers #captain america #meta #mcu #avengers 4 #theory

[emptyanddark]

Unpopular opinion:

Stranger things season 3 is bad, the only redeeming factor is the characters we love although some don't get enough screen time (WILL) and some get worse and frankly i don't care for.

- showing El & Mike kissing that 1st episode was veoreustic and creepy af. They are like 13. While 13 yo do those things, adults watching is borderline predatory. Also moms leering at a 19 yo is gross.

- Hopper is a bad cop. He is violent and brutal, he uses excessive force on citizens and kills a lot of ppl unthinkingly. He might be doing things to protect his family but he is no longer serving the law and is doing a lot of shady shit for his own intrest and regardless of other ppl's lives.

- where is Will?? His friends disregard him and he is just kicked to the sidelines after basically carrying s2. His character doesn't get any developments.

-Billy is a bully and used to abuse his sister and it feels like this was totally forgotten. His character is pretty shit and having a tragic past doesn't erase that.

- are we still doing the 'evil commie capitalism good' thing? Soviets are the convieniant villain and the capitalism propaganda is sickening (a 10 yo's speech of how amazing capitalism is? wtf?)

- steve is amazing, and i think it's because he is the only character who changes and develops in the entire show. He was the stereotypical jock douchbag in s1, in s3 he's the 'loser' who works retail at the mall having hard time with girls. But he is kind, caring, he gets over Nancy and when his romantic feelings for Robin are rejected he isn't angry or even disappointed because he values her as a person and their friendship is way more important. He is kind and funny and accepting entirely when robin comes out to him (and you can see she was scared to do it) and their friendship is so important.

- El and max are so great! Robin is so great! Erica is amazing and i love all those girls! I feel like Nancy's interactions are mostly with men and her only appernt social tie is her boyfriend and the writers kinda isolated her.

-this season has weak ass storytelling, commercial themes and annoying tropes. The friendships between the characters are the best things in it but a lot of times the writers swept them up (the gang bails on dustin, will is fifth-wheeling).

#stranger things #shitpost

[classicalliberalleague]

To the hundred and five anons who are clearly just three guys sending anon after anon:

1. Steve King is a racist and should be booted out of Congress. To disagree with us on this does make you someone who defends racists.

2. The modern GOP and conservative have nothing to do with what would have been called conservatism even a few years ago. We are for free markets, liberty, personal choice and dealing with the consequences of our actions, small government, equality under the law,and taking down bullies. Trump, Tucker and their bunch are for government control of the economy, big government, racism, then end of liberty, making sure no one has to suffer the effect of their choices, and praising bullies...Trump, Tucker, and all their supporters are no different from Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren. Don’t claim to be a conservative if your policies are indistinguishable from a socialist’s.

3. If we’re talking about it making me want to buy their overpriced razors it was a shitty commercial. Otherwise it did have a point [although it could have done a better job at distinguishing boys wrestling (boys will be boys) and out and out bullying behavior (not okay to call boys will be boys)]. If you are upset about a single ad, may I suggest you grow a pair.

4. Right now Congress is as usual full of idiots, unless we praise someone specifically (Romney, Sasse....seriously 535 to pick from that’s the only names I can come up with) just assume we hate them because quite frankly they all suck...so don’t ask us to condemn a particular moron for a particular reason. They all suck unless otherwise stated.

5. Yes he should be impeached. In terms of crimes he has unquestionably violated the Constitution’s emolument clause, he has been involved with money laundering (and all the RICO charges that could come from that), and violated laws against nepotism, not to mention a pile of obstruction of justice crimes. And those are just the crimes...high crimes and misdemeanors when it was written meant to also include bad behavior and behavior unbecoming of the office. He makes us crises, he lies, he has advocated shredding almost every last part of the Constitution. His presidency is one long list of things he should be impeached, removed, and probably pilloried for.

6. Libertarian are complaining that among the Democratic 2020 candidates there is no one with a “sane non-intervention” strategy. That’s because sane and non-intervention don’t belong in the same sentence, they are diametrically opposed.

7. I hope every teacher striking of LA holds out long enough to die of starvation. I have no respect for teachers who strike, damn them all. You are all a disgrace to the profession and the very reason why we do not get the respect a professional career like teaching deserves.

[that-buckley-gal]

Powerless - Chapter One

June 14, 1943

I was turning 19 tomorrow. This revelation hit me suddenly when I caught sight of a balloon stand. I found this a strange sight, considering it was a Monday, and these vendors usually didn’t come out until Thursday or Friday. I turn my gaze away from it then, unsure of what else I should be looking at.

I wished that I were still in school. Maybe then I wouldn’t look like a tool as I sat outside this recruitment center as my brother tried to enlist to be a part of the U.S. Army for the forth time. I didn’t even know why he kept trying. He’s been rejected with a 4F three times before this, but I suppose that’s what made him Steve. His persistence. I liked to think myself to be as selfless and as compassionate as my older half-brother but I knew I underdid it sometimes. I always tried my best and never gave up. If there’s one lesson I’ll forever cherish from my big brother, it was that.

 As my light blue eyes wander around the street once more, I can hear light footsteps approaching me and I turn to the sound. My eyes immediately find the warmer blue orbs of my brother and I smile at him slightly.

 “So…” I start, clasping my hands together. “How did it go?”

 Steve shrugs, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and sighs. The smile I’d managed to grow slowly turned upside down and I found myself frowning at Steve. A part of me was glad that he was once again rejected from enlisting but another larger part of me was upset that Steve wasn’t able to do the one thing he wanted most.

 “I’m sorry, Steve,” I said hugging my brother.

 Steve returned my hug, shrugging once more. “Well, what else do we have to do today?”

 “I don’t have any plans,” I said. “Bucky said he had something come up.”

 “Do you think he got his orders?” Steve asked.

 “I…don’t know,” I said. Steve and I stood awkwardly together on the sidewalk. “Wanna go see a movie?”

 “What time is it?” Steve asks as he pulled out his pocket watch. When he saw the time, he nodded his head as he pocketed his watch. “Sure, we can go catch an early showing right now if you wanted.”

 “All right. Then let’s go.”

 My brother and I had a two-inch difference in height, him being taller than me. I think we both got our shortness from our mother, who’d passed away from TB.

 Steve is more reserved than usual as we walked towards the movie theater down the street. Unable to stand long silences, I begin to describe a new dress I bought specifically for a date night with Bucky, whenever that happened again. It was pointedly red with a black lace belt. It flowed down just under my knees, and the sleeves were long enough to cover half of my biceps. The only promiscuous thing about the dress was the wide V-shaped neckline that showed off some cleavage.

 “Steven?” I ask. “Steve?”

 I look at my brother and scowl briefly seeing that he wasn’t paying even the slightest attention to what I was saying. I purse my lips together but then decide to let it go. This wasn’t the first time Steve was pouty and upset over the fact he wasn’t accepted into the Army and it obviously wouldn’t be the last.

 When we finally reached the theater, Steve paid for us to get in and we’re quickly ushered to our seats just as the lights dim. I shift in my seat a few times before finding a comfortable position and settling.

 With a quiet, angry huff I cross one leg over the other and lean against one of the arm rests as a “support the war” commercial began playing. I peeked over at Steve and watched as he sat up a bit straighter before looking back towards the screen. Looking around briefly I noticed a woman also take interest in the commercial although she seemed sad. I averted my eyes from the mourning woman and turned back to the screen.

 Serving the country did sound brave and honorable but because I was a woman and wasn’t allowed to do anything useful on the field except being a nurse, I complained about it a lot. If women were allowed to do the same things as men then that’d be a different story.

 Most of the complaints that I had were that I didn’t want to be alone, that I didn’t want to worry about Steve and Bucky, and that I would be stuck here doing nothing while my boys would be doing something.

 Bucky hid the fact that got drafted when Steve suggested that they go enlist in December of 1941 – Bucky was quickly accepted but Steve was rejected. Shortly afterwards, in March of 1942, Bucky left for basic training which would last for twelve weeks. We both got a taste of what our relationship would be like if Bucky ever got shipped out for real. It was hard to be away from him, but I knew I could do. If Steve had gone with him though…

 “Hey, you wanna show some respect?”

 I turn to Steve’s authorial whisper and dumbly wonder if I was voicing my thoughts out loud. My focus returns to the screen.

 "Come on! Just start the cartoon already!" I hear a man drawl.

 "Do you mind keeping it down?" I question snappily in a harsh whisper remembering the grieving woman behind me. I feel Steve grab my wrist in a way that tells me I should let him take care of it. The loud man scoffs, but doesn't say anything so Steve lets my wrist go.

 The commercial continued on for another minute when the man whined again about how the film should already be playing.

 "You want to shut up?" Steve asks the man, hotly.

 I gulp and readjust myself as the tall, beefy guy stands up and slowly turns around. He glares at Steve and the woman on his other side before he inclined his head to the door. I watch Steve walk out, trying to push up his sleeves. The man followed him.

 The other moviegoers let out sighs of relief when the big man walked out, but I couldn't bring myself to even breathe. What is Steve thinking? That guy is going to pulverize him!

 It's with a dash of annoyance, a twinge of anger, and a hint of doubt do I get up out of my seat to chase after Steve and the big guy. I walk out of the theater, and step onto the sidewalk in the street looking out for either Steve or the big guy. Then I hear metal clanging on the ground and run to an alleyway where I see Steve get punched and tumble to the ground.

 Stay down, Steve, please. Because Steve is, well, Steve, he doesn’t stay on the ground. He gets back up and slowly raises his fists in front of him.

 “You just don’t know when to give up, do you?” The guy was angry because Steve wouldn’t just stay down.

 “I can do this all day,” Steve said panting slightly, swaying on his feet.

 I close my eyes, equally annoyed and proud of my brother’s actions when I hear another punch before some garbage cans rattle slightly. I cringe then slowly open my eyes to see Steve was lying among the tipped over garbage cans in a daze. The guy lets out a huff and turns, and that’s when our eyes meet.

 “Well, hey there,” he said.

 I step back a step but then remember that my brother stood up to this guy already. I glare at the man, retracing my own step. “Hey yourself.”

 “What’s a pretty little girl like you doing with a bozo like that?”

 “That bozo happens to be my big brother.” I mentally slap myself for how childish I sounded. “Now why don’t you go pick on somebody your own size?”

 “Somebody like…you?” He teased as he walked towards me. I didn’t have time to react until his hands gripped my arms. I instinctively begin trying to fight back but this guy probably weighed over 100 pounds more than me and easily overpowered me, pinning me against the wall.

 I grit my teeth when I feel the man’s hands on my waist before I lift my foot and stomp down as hard I can on his foot not expecting much of an outcome. However I was surprised when the guy jumped back, yelping in his own surprise. The guy scowls at me as he raises his fist. As it flies forward and straight at my face, I’m suddenly pulled out of harm’s way. For a second I feel as if I’m falling when I feel a pair of arms snake around me. My instincts kick in and I wrap my own arms around my savior’s shoulders as a gasp eases its way out of my mouth.

 I can faintly hear the bully’s shout of pain and the slew of curses that shortly followed over the sound of my heartbeat thundering in my ears. My blue eyes meet the dark blue-green orbs of Bucky Barnes and his lips twitch as they pull up into a cocky smirk.

 “Why am I always finding you in distress, my fair damsel?” Bucky chuckled lowly as he slowly raises me so I’m standing. Bucky then turns back to the guy who instantly tries to take a careless swing at Bucky, which he obviously avoids. My boyfriend then punched the guy, telling him my exact words from before: “Go pick on someone your own size.”

 The guy grabbed his cheek before trying to turn to scramble off when Bucky kicks the guy's rear, making the guy run away faster. Bucky then turns back to me.

 “Are you alright?” Despite all of his teasing, Bucky really did love me and I could see that in the way he was looking at me right now.

 “I am. Thank you for saving me…even though I had him.”

 Bucky didn’t take the bait though and instead he pressed his lips onto mine in a rough manner. His hands cupped my face shielding my identity from people should they look at us while mine held his forearms. With a slight grunt Bucky pulled away.

 I want to ask him what he was doing here when his lips meet mine again in a tender kiss. I lost my train of thought.

 When we parted, the soldier draped a lazy arm around my waist and we walked the five or six feet over to Steve, who was just coming out of his daze.

 “Sometimes I think you like getting punched,” Bucky said.

 “I had him on the ropes,” Steve said, shaking dirt and gravel off his hands. He grunted and hissed as he felt around his face, which I could only imagine to be burning and sore.

 “Yeah, like Madison had him? How many times is this?” Bucky asked suddenly bending down. I bite my lip seeing he was grabbing Steve’s enlistment form. I lean closer to him and read over Steve’s latest form. “Oh you’re from Paramus now?”

 Steve didn’t reply, still bothered by being dirty.

 “You know it’s illegal to lie on your enlistment form, right? And seriously: Jersey?”

 Steve finally quits trying to straighten himself out and makes to respond when he suddenly takes in Bucky’s appearance. I look from man to man before I myself begin taking in Bucky’s appearance. He was dressed up in his suit and I find myself gnawing on my lip to keep from pouting. His being dressed up could only mean he got his orders and was leaving to be Sergeant James Barnes.

 “You got your orders?” I ask then.

 Bucky bit his lip, looking at me with his apologetic eyes before they look over his suit. He looked between Steve and I. “The 107th: Sergeant James Barnes shipping out for England, the first thing tomorrow.”

 I scowl at James, wondering why he couldn’t tell me when we were alone, but then deflate remembering that he was Steve's best friend long before he was my boyfriend. It was probably better for him to take out two birds with one stone.

 I noticed that I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t find the words to say as Steve looked to the ground.

 “We should probably get going,” he said, and I knew that Bucky was excluded from “we”.

 Bucky then grinned at Steve while re-draping his arm around my waist. I move to get out of it and away from him when his grip tightens. I notice he’s smiling as he ruffs up Steve’s hair with his free hand but his eyes show he’s wounded and I let myself stay by his side. “Come on, punk. Can I have a moment alone with my best girl?”

 Steve takes off towards the street while I smack James’ arm with little affection. “Best girl, huh? I better be your only girl, boy.”

 Bucky backs me up so I’m against a wall and we stare into each other’s eyes.

 “You’re mad at me,” he stated.

 “I’m not mad,” I said. “I’m just confused as to why you couldn’t tell me you were shipping out in private, that’s all.”

 “Aw shucks, doll. Don’t be that way.”

 “James.”

 “I have something special planned for later, which might make me leaving a little easier to cope with.”

 “Oh really?” I raise a brow at him as my fingers begin to play with his tie.

 “Mhm.” His simple reply didn’t make me feel any better, but I didn’t comment on this as I stood on my tiptoes in order to give him a sweet peck that let him know I forgave him.

 With our heads clear, we caught up to Steve.

 “Come on, you two! It’s my last night. We gotta go get cleaned up.”

 “Why?”

 “Where are we going?” Steve asks. Bucky used his free hand to grab some papers from the hand that was re-draped around my waist, never letting me go.

 “The future,” he stated.

 Steve stopped and began snooping through the papers his best friend handed him which made itch to see what was on them. I shifted in Bucky’s arms several times before he let me stand next to my brother, favoring standing behind me, arms around my shoulders as his head rested on top of mine. I could see it was a flier for the World of Tomorrow Exposition, hosted by Howard Stark, who piqued my interest much to Bucky’s dismay. I look at him, shooting him a grin which he returns before I turn back to the paper.

 “We’re going tonight,” Bucky announced before he swooped in close to my ear whispering, “Baby-doll, I need you to get a date for Steve.”

 “I can probably do that,” I tell him just as quietly. “And meet you guys there at seven?”

 “That sounds like a plan,” Bucky said.

 “What sounds like a plan?” Steve wanted us to elaborate, but then he made a face at Bucky and I as we shared another kiss before we went our separate ways until later tonight. “Can you guys at least watch the public displays of affection around me?”

 Steve needs a date, I think idly as my feet lead me back to my and Steve’s apartment where I then pace in front of the phone for several minutes, deciding on who I should call. I didn’t have a lot of friends, mostly because none of the other girls wanted a friend who had to constantly cancel plans or get a rain check due to constant colds.

 The friends I did have had all been sent off to marriage life when the war began, leaving me feeling slightly put out of that circle, but I was their friend with no children. Usually when they called upon me, or I to them, we had told their husbands that I was having a mental breakdown over not having a husband to take care of me. I had a serious boyfriend but that little fact was always omitted. Because my friends were all married, I knew I’d have to call around to see who had an available sister or friend as a date for Steve. Without another thought, I grab the phone and take a seat on the couch in the tiny living room as my fingers move the dial on the phone. The first two I called were too busy to really talk through everything with me but were nice enough to promise to make a day for me sometime in the next few days which made me happy. The third one I called, Helen, had just put her newborn baby to sleep and was slightly off-put by my “untimely call” at first, but she soon got back to her normal, happy go luck self as I brought up the expo and needing a date for Steve. “Ugh,” Helen groaned from the other end of the phone. “I swear if I hadn’t gotten married, I would have went with y’all myself.” She wasn’t shy of her crush on Steve before her marriage, but she wasn’t Steve’s type. Neither of us decided to tell her because she was just too nice to crush like that. Besides she had a nice husband now and she was happily in love. “But I have Donald to love now.” “How is Donald?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Oh, he’s just fine. Got a promotion at work today actually. So we’re going to drop off the baby at his parents’ and then go out on a date to celebrate.” “That’s really good,” I say. It is good for them, especially when times are so tough, what with the war and all. As we continued to make small talk, I casually brought up the expo once more and Helen admitted her sister, Dorothy, or Dottie as she preferred to be called, was recently single. We conversed a bit more and I found out Dottie was 24 and living independently on a nurse’s salary, which impressed me. “Okay, I’ll have Dottie show up at your place about quarter to seven, all right?” Helen asked. “Yes, that sounds good,” I said. “Okay! I’ll see you on Saturday then, Madison!” I chuckle. “See you on Saturday.” With that, I hang up the phone and let out a breath. My eyes wander around our sparse two-bedroom apartment before they landed on a clock. I see it’s a little past three in the afternoon, leaving with me about three hours to get ready. “More than enough time,” I said. I then get off the couch and leave the living room, choosing to relocate to the bathroom where I draw myself a bubble bath to let go of some stress before the fair tonight. Later, once I was bathed and smelling like raspberries, I did up my hair and put on the dress I was trying to tell Steve about earlier. I stare at myself in my mirror, smoothing out the little wrinkles that formed on the skirt. I poke earrings through the holes in my ears before there’s a knock on the door. Surprised, I glance at the clock to see it’s already about quarter to seven, which makes me curse under my breath. “I’m coming!” I call to my guest, dabbing a bit of perfume on my wrists and spraying some on and around my neck. I fluff the loose strands of my hair a little with my fingers before grabbing my clutch. I move to the door anxiously before I open the door. My bright eyes instantly meet dark ones. “Hey,” the unknown girl said. I assumed she was ‘Dottie’. She addressed me with a smile. “Are you Madison?” “Yes,” I said. “I am.” “Great! Well, my name’s Dorothy, but please call me Dottie,” she said. I noticed her look me over and suddenly felt self-conscious. “You look so cute!” Cute? “Are you ready?” “Um, thank you,” I said. “And yes, I’m ready.” I close the door behind me and lock it before stuffing the key into my clutch. I peer over at Dottie’s dress and smile. “Your dress looks nice; I like the flowers.” “Thanks,” she said. “So how long have you known Helen? I’m surprised I’ve never met you until just now, but I was even more surprised when she called me and asked if I wanted to go on a blind date, because that’s normally not my thing. I like strong guys who have the courage to ask me out, you know? Anyway, so how is Steve as a person? Do you have a boyfriend? Am I talking too much? If I am, I’m sorry, I’m just nervous I guess. My first blind date in a long time.” When she goes silent, I take that as my cue to begin speaking. I clear my throat slightly as I try to process and replay everything she’d said just now in my mind. “Well…” I stall. “I met Helen in high school, actually. We didn’t really hang out a lot until just recently.” “That explains it,” Dottie butted in. I nodded my head and wondered what nightmare I’d just signed Steve up for. I’ll apologize to him later. “Steve is a really great guy, I mean I could tell you everything about him because he is my brother but I think I should leave the talking to him, don’t you think?” “Hmm, I guess so. Do you have a boyfriend?” “Uh huh,” I said. “Bucky’s been in my life since before I was even born, so I kinda grew up under him.” I continue on, briefly mentioning that I was dating him. “Awe, that’s so cute,” Dottie said. “I mean it’s kind of weird, but still cute.” My new acquaintance and I arrive at the fair gates at exactly seven and we stand around together sort of awkwardly. Because I grew up with him and became slightly dependent on his presence, it was like I had my own internal James Barnes radar and I easily spotted him in his army garb, walking next to Steve. Even from this far away, our eyes find each other’s and I can see him smile. He waves at me and I shoot him a small grin, childishly waving back. I begin running over to Bucky, who picks me up and spins me around. I can barely breathe when his strong arms close around me, but this is where I was happiest. I turn my head so my cheek was pressed against Bucky’s chest to check on Dottie and Steve and frown: both were standing in an unhappy manor. “Was this really a good idea?” I ask. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Bucky replied. I sigh and pull away from him, grabbing his hand and linking our fingers together as we walk over to the uncomfortable duo. “So… Where do we go first?” After some prodding and a little bit of encouragement, we got Steve and Dot to at least walk next to each other, behind Bucky and I as we walked around the fair. At around seven thirty, Bucky began leading us to a stage of some sort as an announcement rang out over our heads, welcoming the guests to the “world of tomorrow, a greater world, a better world”. Then my eyes caught onto a stage, where several people were already crowded around. Another announcement rang out, signaling that the presenter was about to come on stage. “It’s starting!” I say to Bucky, who only smiles at my childishness. I don’t give him time to respond before I’m pulling on his hand, urging him to follow me (which he does) as I begin to run to the front of the crowd. I wasn’t sure if Steve and Dot followed. I hope they did, but my focus wasn’t on them. It was on Bucky...and once he was introduced, I focused on Howard Stark. I give my boyfriend a mischievous grin, which he returns as we watched Stark’s presentation on a hovering car. “I did say a few years, didn’t I?” Howard said, making me giggle at how smooth the inventor was. His “hover car” had just hovered for a few seconds before crashing back to the ground, and he had just played it off like he meant to do that. “Hey Steve, what do you say we treat these girls to…?” I heard Bucky speak and turn to look at him. I notice Steve’s missing and I too begin to look around for my brother, when I spot Dottie chatting it up with another man in army garb. I scowl at her then, promising myself I’d let her have it if that was the reason why Steve took off. “Be nice, doll. I think I know where Steve is,” I hear Bucky’s words in my ear. I turn and follow him silently, leaving Dottie behind without a second thought. Bucky was practically dragging me to where he saw Steve – or wherever he believed Steve was to be found. I notice the crowd getting thinner as we continue to move away from the main points of the expo and I peer at the building in front of me to see it’s a recruitment center. “You really think Steve’s here?” Bucky’s unimpressed expression made me feel dumb as I realized that the obvious answer was yes. I recalled the countless times Steve unsuccessfully tried to get drafted and press my forehead into the palm of my hand. “Never mind, I know. Let’s just find him and go.” “Okay…” Bucky said, then he smiled. "You're pretty." "Now's not the time for flattery." "I was just stating facts." I don't respond to him as my eyes catch sight of Steve, standing miserably in front of a solider-painted mirror without a face. Steve was too short to see his face on the soldier's body. Seeing my brother broken up made me sad inside and for the way Bucky looked between my brother and me, I could see it hurt him to see us hurt. "Stay here," Bucky said to me. I nod at him and watch as he approached Steve. I try to not stare at the two best friends as they conversed. I already knew that Bucky was going to try to talk Steve out of trying to enlist whilst Steve would respond by saying that he "needed" to do something and that he just needs a chance.

 I peer at the dynamic duo once more and when I look away, I catch a pair of eyes staring at me with a look of awe and disbelief etched on his face. My blinking several times and backing up a few steps, wondering why an old man was staring at me, breaks our stare. "Hey - Bucky! Can we go dancing?" I call out to my boyfriend, choosing to focus on him instead of the old man. Steve gives me a nod that tells me his fate to enlist is sealed and I just shake my head at him, but sneak him a grin that clearly says ‘good luck’ anyway. Bucky turns to me with a very wide grin on his face. He raises his arms up as he says, "Yes we can, my love!" I let out a short breath and smile back. Then, he turns back to Steve once more. They exchange a few words before sharing a brotherly hug and Bucky walks to me. "Take care of Madi, Buck," Steve warned. Bucky turned to salute him. "With my life." Steve nods, accepting this and turns to the enlistment center. Bucky walks over to me and grabs my hand, leading me away from Steve. We walk slowly through the fair, our fingers linked together the entire time. I had no idea where I was being lead to, but I knew I'd be safe as long I was with my soldier.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #powerless #captain america #the first avenger

[180abroad]

Day 150: Communism, Art-Nouveau, and World War II

For our second day in Prague, we explored some of the highs and lows of Prague’s tumultuous 20th-century history: the Museum of Communism, the Alfons Mucha Museum, and the Memorial to the Heroes of the Heydrich Terror.  The three sites span the arc of Prague's New Town, so we also got to see more of the city's 20th-century architecture as we walked between them.

We started the day with a sweaty 15-minute walk to the Museum of Communism, just a block away from where we saw Swan Lake the night before. It wasn’t even 10 am yet, but it was already pushing 90 degrees and humid.

The Museum of Communism is a great stop for anyone interested in learning about the Czech Republic’s troubled history under Soviet influence. It is heavy on reading and light on actual artifacts, but it is a fascinating look into the history of Soviet communism from the perspective of a country that suffered under it firsthand.

And best of all, we could take pictures–meaning that we could skim through the exhibit while recording their text for later digestion.

The exhibit starts in the 1930s. Much like Poland, post-WWI Czechoslovakia was finally free after centuries of domination by the Austro-Hungarian Habsburg Empire. But the shadow of Fascism is looming on all sides. Intent on defending themselves from Hitler’s armies, the Czechs began a massive construction project to fortify their borders. Had it been completed, hundreds of fortified bunkers with overlapping fields of fire would have stretched across the German border.

These fortifications proved futile--not because of any design failure but because of a political one. Rather than send his takes to break through the Czech defense line, Hitler bullied the rest of Europe into forcing Czechoslovakia into giving up its borderlands to Hitler without a fight. Hitler claimed that the annexation was justified on the grounds that the inhabitants of these borderlands were ethnically German, despite the fact that the territory had always been politically Czech. (Not entirely unlike Russia's stance on annexing Crimea from Ukraine in 2014.)

The decision to give Hitler what he wanted was called the Munich Agreement, and it was signed by the leaders of Britain, France, and Italy. Note that the leader of Czechoslovakia isn't on that list--he had to wait in a Munich hotel room while his so-called allies signed away his country's defenses in a vain attempt to appease the unappeasable Nazi war machine.

Although Britain and France revoked their support of this agreement after Hitler inevitably annexed the rest of Czechoslovakia by force, many Czechs continue to resent them for what they call the Munich Betrayal. I can’t say that I blame them.

Five years later, Czechoslovakia was liberated by the Soviet army. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. The rest of the museum covers various aspects of life under communist rule. Food, medicine, and other essentials were scarce, working conditions became longer and harder, and freedom of expression was nonexistent.

Despite continual promises to the contrary, the Soviet-backed communist government nationalized one industry after another until there was virtually no legal private enterprise in the country whatsoever. Even simple transactions between individuals, like someone fixing a neighbor's door in exchange for food, were strictly prohibited.

Soon enough, the nationalized industries were struggling to pay their debts and keep up production. There were shortages throughout the country--people had money but nothing to spend it on. In response, the government enacted a series of currency "reforms." Savings and debts were devalued by 43%, and people had to exchange any cash they had for new currency, losing 80-98% of the value in the bargain depending on how much they had to exchange.

As a Soviet satellite state, the Czechoslovak Socialist Republic was made to join Comecon, a (retroactively hilariously named) protectionist trade organization run by the Soviet Union. Through Comecon, resources were taken from wealthier member countries and given to poorer member countries, and member countries could not trade with outside countries unless they did it through the Comecon organization. In Czech, the acronym for Comecon was RVHP, which inspired a joke that the acronym actually stood for a phrase that translates roughly as "rejoice, be merry, we have nothing, so let's share it."

Throughout the period of communist rule, propaganda was all-invasive. It was plastered on walls, shouted from public speakers, presented as journalism in newspapers, and even built into the skyline. Prague was chosen as the site for a massive stone monument to Stalin. It took ten years and billions of dollars to create--and it was blown up just seven years later during a rebranding movement under Khrushchev.

The bulk of the propaganda that wasn't focused on worshiping Soviet leaders was focused on idealizing poor, uneducated workers and vilifying the (rapidly shrinking) educated middle class.

In a stark, black-walled corridor, the museum tells the story of the Czechoslovakian military and police forces under communist rule. Despite being a supposedly independent country, Czechoslovakia's army was fully integrated into Soviet chain of command, with Russian generals in charge of every detail. Borders were tightly sealed, and 450 Czechoslovakian citizens were killed trying to cross the Iron Curtain. An additional 600 Czechoslovakian and Soviet soldiers were killed by people trying to escape.

And then there was the secret police, who used bribes, blackmail, and outright torture to create an army of informants. It was through these informants that such petty crimes as fixing a neighbor's door could be effectively policed and punished. If someone was suspected of hiding something, they were and their loved ones were beaten, drugged, and even executed. Forced labor camps once again sprang up throughout the country in a chilling echo of Nazi occupation. Fear and mistrust were the currency of Communism’s power.

In the 1960s, a new generation of Czech Communist party leaders began to adopt a more moderate, liberal stance. Censorship was eased, elections became more democratic, and limited trade with the West allowed department stores to fill with goods once again.

And the Soviets wanted none of it. Overnight, a Soviet army descended on Prague, and virtually all of the Czech Communist leaders were imprisoned or executed. A new Moscow-approved government was installed in its place, and for the next twenty-one years, things steadily got worse.

Finally, in 1989–days after the fall of the Berlin Wall–the dam broke. A student march that had originally been organized by the Communist youth to celebrate the defeat of Fascism turned into a protest against the ongoing repression of the Soviet-backed Communists. Tens of thousands of students were arrested or brutally beaten as they ran away. But unlike the Tiananmen Square massacre that had only recently occurred in China, the government’s actions only stoked the fires of resentment.

Working-class parents–the backbone of the regime’s support–were outraged by their children’s treatment and immediately joined the protests. Hundreds of thousands of people from across the country flooded Wenceslas Square each evening, and within days, the Velvet Revolution was complete. The Soviets packed up and left, and Czechoslovakians were able to vote in truly free elections for the first time in over 50 years.

(For better or worse, the again-newly independent country of Czechoslovakia was short-lived, breaking up several years later by mutual agreement into separate Czech and Slovak Republics. But that’s a story for some other museum.)

Having been run through the emotional gamut and in desperate need of additional caffeine, we decided to stop at a nearby café before going on to our next sight. But before the café, however, we followed a Rick Steves recommendation and peeked into the fabulous Municipal House that I mentioned in our last post.

The interior is stunning. Not gaudy, but colorful and vivacious. It was like stepping into a 1920s period movie.

We also noticed a sign indicating that the Slav Epic was currently on display at the Municipal House. We didn't appreciate what that meant at the time, but we soon would.

Our next visit was to the fabulously fun Mucha Museum. I didn’t know much about Mucha before visiting, but that says more about me than him. Mucha was one of the founders and basically the patron saint of the Art Nouveau movement. And tragically, we weren’t able to take pictures inside the museum.

Unlike the great painters of previous eras, Mucha was a commercial graphic artist. His best-known works were posters–advertisements for plays, beer, and cigarettes.

Some of his best known works are also the ones that launched his career: posters for the plays of actress Sarah Bernhardt, who fell in love with Mucha’s unique style after he made his first posters for her performance in Gismonda. He followed his smash hit debut with posters for Bernhardt's leading performances Medee, Lorenzaccio, and Hamlet--in which she cross-dressed as the titular protagonist.

(We couldn't take pictures inside the museum, but we could certainly take pictures of the postcards we bought.)

A recurring motif we noticed in Mucha’s works are nested circles, sickles, and other geometric patterns. Mucha was deeply interested in spiritualism and sacred symbology–he even became a leader of the Freemasons in Czechoslovakia later in life.

Since he spent time in Prague in his early life, Jessica and I can’t help but wonder if Mucha’s obsession with intertwining geometric shapes was in any way inspired by the city’s enchanting astronomical clock.

But there’s more to Mucha than poster art. After nearly a decade of skyrocketing fame, Mucha was dissatisfied at being essentially little more than a glorified ad man. He wanted to create something that expressed his spirituality. The culmination of this desire was Le Pater, a beautiful and hauntingly illustrated edition of the Lord’s Prayer. It was printed in miniscule numbers, and reproductions are still hard to come by.

We were able to see a copy opened to a dark and haunting illustration of a godlike figure looking down on a crowd of people prostrated and lapping eagerly from a flowing stream.

From then on, Mucha’s artistic vision branched in two directions. He explored traditional oil-on-canvas paintings, culminated in his masterpiece 20-canvas cycle The Slav Epic, which far too large and important to be kept in such a small museum as this one. He also continued his poster art, but instead of using his art to sell cigarettes and entertainment, he used it to sell a Czech national identity. Featuring traditional Slavic costumes and mythological figures, these works helped inspire Czech national pride and propel awareness of Czech culture into the heart of Western Europe.

Sadly, this effort was not appreciated by Hitler’s invasion force in 1939. Mucha was arrested by the military, and though he was eventually released, his health never recovered and he died shortly thereafter.

I have to say that I’ve become a Mucha fan. His art is easy to like and manages to inspires hope and optimism even when he’s dealing with the darker sides of human nature.

Our final major stop of the day was another site related to the Nazi occupation–the Orthodox church where Czechoslovakian paratroopers Jozef Gabcik and Jan Kubis made their last stand against an army of Waffen-SS troops.

It’s okay if you aren’t familiar with these two names. I wasn’t either. But you should be. With the help of British special forces and Czech resistance fighters, these two men carried out the highest-level assassination of a Nazi leader in all of WWII.

Reinhard Heydrich was Himmler’s right hand man, one of the chief architects of the Holocaust, and a personal favorite of Hitler, who called him the man with the iron heart. Even among the Nazis, Heydrich was feared and respected as a cold-hearted monster. In 1941, he was rewarded for his loyalty and ambition by being made acting governor of the conquered Czechoslovak territories. A brutal man, he quickly earned the nickname Butcher of Prague.

Heydrich saw the Czechoslovakians as a mongrel race--a mixed bale of wheat and chaff to be ruthlessly sorted into separate piles. Those judged to be "good stock" were to be sent to Germany for reeducation. The rest were to be put to work or shot. The land of Czechoslovakia, successfully emptied, would then be repopulated with good German settlers.

I was particularly struck when I saw the museum's set of stained wood chips. SS officers would hold the wood chips up against a person's skin, hair, and eyes to judge what racial class they belonged in, from Aryan birch to Nubian ebony. Something about the twisted combination of brutal simplicity and horrific absurdity just perfectly encapsulates the essence of Nazism.

In response to this oppression, nine Czechoslovakian paratroopers stationed in Britain were selected for a high-risk mission to assassinate Heydrich. Gabcik and Kubis lead the mission.

Things went wrong from the start. They were airdropped into Prague, which was over 50 miles from their intended landing zone outside the town of Pilsen (home of Pilsner-style beer). Undaunted, the paratroopers joined up with a local resistance cell and secretly began to organize for the assassination.

When the resistance fighters eventually figured out what the paratroopers' mission actually was, they desperately plead with their contacts in the Allied command to have the mission called off. If a Nazi governor was assassinated, the reprisals against the Czechoslovakian people would be cataclysmic. At least some members of the Allied command seemed swayed by their arguments, but they never got around to actually calling the mission off.

On the day of the assassination, almost everything went wrong again. The plan was for Gabcik and Kubis to ambush Heydrich’s open-topped car as it went around a slow hairpin turn on the road to his office in Prague Castle. But their machine gun jammed, and the backup grenade exploded outside of Heydrich’s car instead of inside it. A brief gunfight ensued, but in the shock of the moment the paratroopers and the Nazi governor emptied their pistols at each other without landing a hit. Gabcik and Kubis managed to escape, certain that they had blown the only chance they would ever get.

But what they did turned out to be enough. Heydrich had been more severely wounded by the shrapnel of the grenade than they realized. After an excruciating week of sickness and surgeries, Heydrich died of sepsis from his wounds.

The  reprisals came, and they were even more vicious than the Allies' worst fears. Anyone suspected of knowing anything about the assassination was tortured and executed, and two entire villages were wiped out on mere suspicion of hiding the assassins. In the end, around five thousand Czechoslovakians were killed in direct response to Heydrich’s death.

It was only in response to these atrocities that Britain and France decided to withdraw from the Munich Agreement, which we'd learned about that morning.

For days, it seemed like the Gabcik, Kubis, and the rest of the paratroopers might make it. They had been hidden in the crypt of an Orthodox church in central Prague, and despite the massacres taking place above ground, no one was talking.

But one man finally broke, deciding that the good of protecting the paratroopers wasn't worth the evil of allowing innocent Czechs to be murdered by the Nazis. This member of the resistance didn't know exactly where the paratroopers were hiding, but he went to the Gestapo and told them everything he did know. The other resistance members that he named were rounded up along with their families. One by one, they were tortured and executed until the Nazis were finally able to trace a bloody trail back to the church where the paratroopers were hidden.

After a two-hour standoff against an army of 750 SS troops, all the paratroopers lay dead, either by Nazi bullets or their own.

The informant, now a reviled traitor to his people, continued his work for the Germans until the end of the war, when he was executed as a traitor.

An ominous metal door leads from the museum into the crypt itself, where the last surviving paratroopers took their own lives. Today, it is filled with memorials to the paratroopers.

The alcoves filled with letters and handmade tokens of remembrance are a testament to the reverence that the Czech people hold for these heroes, regardless of the Nazi wrath their act of resistance incited.

Finally taking a break from the dreary topics of the day, we walked down to the riverfront and up the esplanade. We saw a ton of gorgeous old buildings, as well as the humorous and much newer “dancing house.”

Across the river, we could see the Prague Castle complex standing up on its hill.

We ended the day’s sightseeing with a walk across the pedestrian Charles Bridge. Built over 600 years ago, this bridge made Prague a nexus of East-West trade. Today, it is crowded with tourists, buskers, and trinket hawkers. But that doesn’t make it any less striking with its massive tower, lines of statues, and great views of the Castle Quarter across the river.

At this point we were just about dead on our feet. Especially Jessica, who had gotten basically no sleep up in the sweltering loft bed the night before. So we walked a few blocks over to find a less crowded spot, then called an Uber to take us home. We took a fair number of Ubers in Prague, and they were always a pleasant and affordable experience.

All in all, it was a bit of a depressing day, but in a good way. It’s important to know and appreciate the darker history of places. Not only does it make us more informed and vigilant citizens of the human race, it makes the beauty of places that much more meaningful in light of the ugliness that it has managed to outlive.

Next Post: The Slave Epic (and a Break for Beer)

Last Post: Prague–Old and Nouveau

#180abroad #prague #czech republic #mucha #history #museums #communism #wwii

[theticklefox-blog]

Snatch the Series: My Review

Note: this will contain spoilers, so read no further if you haven’t watched the series yet. It will also contain negative opinions on some issues, so if the show was everything you ever wished for... this isn’t for you and I don’t want to upset you. Just enjoy the GIFs (which betray my biases) and skip the rest.

I really, really wanted to like Snatch.   Honest I did. I keenly anticipated it from the moment it was announced, despite my not being a huge fan of Guy Richie or the film version. The previews made the show look energetic and fun and most of the actors are consistently good, and playing types of characters they’re not necessarily known for, which I always appreciate.  Also, fans of the other actors, Luke Pasqualino and Rupert Grint in particular, were very kind and helpful in providing news, BTS video and rare photos as the series filmed, and were-- mostly-- good about not posting spoilers without a warning.

So it saddens me to report  I found the show more annoying than involving. A large part of that is due to the slipshod writing, underwritten characterization and reliance on jarring edits and often “WTF?!” character motivations and action that made it difficult for me to care about the protagonists (or even perceive them as protagonists, really... let’s say The Young Pretty People The Writers Clearly Wanted Us To Like.) 

Mostly I’m upset Marc Warren’s considerable talents were wasted on such a grand scale. So much could have been made of Bob Fink in the hands of a more creative writing staff... every week on Fargo and Better Call Saul, to name just two current examples, corrupt cops and wannabe gangsters (who are often the same characters) have rich, unpredictable storylines which give talented actors a broad canvas on which to showcase their talents and play off one another. But the Fink charter is merely insulted by everyone in his orbit from the beginning (which, frankly, just made me sympathize with him), marginalized in most of the plot and never given enough to do. 

I suspect Ed Westwick fans are also somewhat frustrated that Westwick, who was front and center in most of the promotion,  was too easily dispensed with in episode four, and that most of his colorful momements were actually given away the commercials. 

I'm still baffled by Marc’s treatment in that promotion. His name was literally never mentioned once by other actors or by the show’s Twitter, Facebook and Instagram feeds, though he’s the closest thing to a main antagonist the show has. (Photos of his character appeared, but Marc was never named.)  Did Marc want to avoid being part of the publicity? Was it some sort of misguided decision by the marketing staff because Marc is relatively unknown here, or even because a handful of people keep whining about how much they disliked his character on The Good Wife? I just don’t get it. I’d like some answers about this.

But the promotional absurdities wouldn’t  matter if Marc had been given a decent role to play, and he was shorted in that department too... Fink could have been a great villain or a great tragic character, but, despite some great acting moments from Marc, he wasn’t allowed to be either. The character is bullied, deceived and marginalized by both his gangster friends and corrupt police associates, yet  the writing kept implying he deserved this without ever providing proof. 

Then there was the Vic Hill character, who the writers clearly intended to be charming, but I saw only a thuggish man-child who continuously jeopardizes his family and bullies his perceived underlings. I hated him from the beginning and he only got worse. Dougray Scott’s hammily overdone performance didn’t help matters. I was on Bob’s side pretty much from the start... if only the writers had a clue about nuance and a willingness to challenge their audience or divide it, but... no. There was no character depth to speak of anywhere.

As for the young leads... the old kiddie ganster musical Bugsy Malone kept popping into my head. i couldn’t take them seriously as adults despite the fact these actors are in their late 20s-early 30s and more than capable of playing bona fide adults if they’d been given a decent script. Instead they were given hoary paint-by-numbers plot cliches cribbed from every gangster movie since the 1920s, padded out by clumsily-executed heist sequences and flashbacks that played like music videos.  

In some ways it seemed like the series had two or three episodes worth of material, and the rest was filler, leading to a number of pointless tangents and inexplicable actions. The backstory about the gold was goofy at best, and nice coincidence about it resurfacing exactly when and where Albert, Charlie et al were planning to hijack Sonny’s cash (in an identical truck, no less). The show is full of such cartoonish improbabilities, though none delivered with the verve of an actual cartoon.  

There are repetitive flashback’s of Vic’s original heist (yeah, let’s show Bob getting heaped with more abuse... ), loony side-stories filling in for character development (ie Billy’s whole backstory... what a wasted opportunity that was. Though Lucien Laviscount did a great job with the few subtle dialogue moments he got between having to beat people up and listen to crazy yarns about his parents), repetitive scenes of Charlie getting impaired in various ways, an out-of-nowhere love triangle that seems to be there just to divide the main group, female characters who have too little to do in general except be feisty and supportive (or, in the case of Dwyer, feisty and cuntish)... I get the sense the scripts were all written in the weekend before filming began, and that no one really scrutinized them closely. 

Yes, I’m a Marc Warren fan and am biased. And I knew going in that he was probably playing an antagonist and that he’d get iced in the final episode... I’m used to all of that. Pretty much every actor I’ve ever admired from Lon Chaney Sr onward got typecast as villains or outsiders and got killed onscreen more times than Steve Buscemi does throughout the Coen Brothers’ oeuvre. I don’t have a problem with that. Conventional heroes and the squarejaws who play them bore me. I love complicated characters and character actors who seek out such roles.   

But I don't appreciate youth-obsessed deck-stacking, treating bullies as heroes, and writing which both wants our protagonists to be “bad-ass” or at least risk-taking, yet continuously lets them off the hook, either through miraculous escapes or through having the older characters or one-note side characters take bullets for them or do the dirty work. Full disclosure: I haven’t bothered with the last two episodes because I was so disgusted with what went down in episode 8. I’m pretty sure the Young Pretty People prevailed and that Albert redeemed the sins of his father and finally said something nice to Charlie according to schedule. I can’t say I really care. 

As in The Musketeers, Marc played a bullied, mistreated character who I couldn’t help but care about, both because Marc is such an exquisite actor even in marginal roles, and because I tend to side with complicated or oppressed characters, not with self-described “heroes”.  In both shows, despite being the nominal villain, his character was shunted to the sidelines for too much of the duration, then suddenly given a lot of screentime just before being ganged up on and killed off.  So yeah, the worst kind of deja vu... in The Musketeers at least Rochefort had some fun or powerful moments, and I understood that the show’s episodic structure hindered a more nuanced character through-line. 

But Snatch has no such excuses. Also: couldn’t Bob and Charlie have had a sustained sequence or conversation without annoying cutaways to more trivial matters, like Vic torturing Charlie’s butler (which was played for laughs! God how I hated Vic...)? And why did Bob keep leaving the apartment? Apart from more plot-padding I mean? Why didn’t Bob shoot Vic when he had the chance? Because he really should have. Why was the whole tiresome side trip to America necessary, given how easily Billy got the diamonds back? Much of the plot strains on like that, making no sense. 

The Snatch showrunners keep comparing their efforts to Fargo, Noah Hawley’s brilliant offshoot of the Coens’ film (of all their films, really)... they need to stop doing this. It does them no favors and it makes me pine for Marc to get cast on Hawley’s show (or anything by Vince Gilligan) instead. Yes, I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, because the writers on those shows know something about ambiguity, character development, unpredictable plotting, creative musical cues, and, most essentially, how to hire great character actors and write roles worthy of them, then give them room to breathe onscreen.   Hawley or Gilligan would’ve known what to do with Bob Fink. They could’ve done for Marc what they’ve done for Giancarlo Esposito, Bryan Cranston, Jonathan Banks, Bokeem Woodbine, Alison Tolman... even established stars like Ewen McGregor  and Billy Bob Thornton have shown new capabilities on Fargo. I would donate my left kidney to see Marc on one of those shows, whereas if the Snatch crew had created Breaking Bad... I'm sure Walter White would’ve been killed off in season one while the balance of the show went on to document the hijinks of Badger and Skinny Pete.   

I know I’ve gone on long enough, but I'm still bitter. ;) Marc Warren has really scaled back his acting commitments in recent years. I have no idea why, whether his priorities now lie elsewhere (and it’s none of my business to guess where), or whether he’s just not getting the calibre of role he’d like... if Snatch and Audible “Audio dramas” are the best he’s being offered, it must be very frustrating, but I don't want to judge his choices when I have no idea why they were made. Marc rarely gives interviews these days.  He has said in the past that Mad Dogs arose from the poor quality of roles offered him at that time. If he and his actor friends wanted to crowdfund something along those lines I would do everything in my power to promote that or help. If Marc simply wants to focus his attentions elsewhere and not act so often, that’s perfectly within his rights as well. Of course he owes me nothing. I hope that when he appears at Birmingham’s Collectormania fancon to do signings next month (June 3) he’ll give us a hint of some kind. (Don’t worry, Marc, I won’t be there... I only do the fangirl thing from a distance.) 

Anyhow... with Marc doing so few projects lately, it’s incredibly frustrating to wait months for something like Snatch, that so consistently fails to deliver. Marc does the best he can and has some great moments in spite of the limits he’s working under. As I’ve said, there was the potential for a great, messy, complicated character there. He deserved so much better.

#marc warren #snatch the series #bob fink #review #fargo #better call saul #bad show writing #fangirl problems