fic where steve is having his morning run but sam is nowhere in sight so he just has to run on his own with no one to tease about how slow they are but then suddenly nyoooom “ON YOUR RIGHT” sam screams as he passes flying by and puSHES STEVE INTO THE FOUNTAIN
this descends into crack much faster than the bit above the cut would lead you to believe.
gyzym: you know what i keep thinking about, is a fic where bucky was like, fucking somebody else in the 107th, before they got captured, before he knew steve was coming over, because he was lonely and horny and pretty sure he was going to die, and whatever, just, whatever
and that guy died, maybe, or wasn’t in the HC, or just sort of…. vanished, after steve showed up, like everyone more or less did, for bucky
gyzym: but in the ensuing years either he remained alive, and told people about it, or his journal survived somehow
and so bucky barnes became… kind of an icon, for the queer community? this famous war hero, captain america’s right hand, confirmed as having fucked other men by at least one primary source
and so when bucky is relearning himself, based on like, SHIT OTHER PEOPLE SAY OR HAVE SAID, he has to discover his own sexuality through the lens of having been analyzed as part of queer theory and history classes?
Here is the only thing you know: the body remembers.
Holding a knife feels as natural to you as walking, running, slipping in under someone’s defenses and wrapping your metallic fingers around their throat.
Here is the only thing you know how to do: pull the trigger. Wrap your hands around hilts and push blades into bodies. It’s all just meat.
Seven days. That’s how long you’ve been awake. Every time they’d point you at a target, take off the leash and set a weapon down in front of you, the world looked different, somehow, but they’d pull you back, push rubber between your teeth and wipe you clean again before it mattered.
JUST IN CASE YOUR HEART SOMEHOW WASN’T ON FIRE WITH STEVE/BUCKY EMOTIONAL DEVASTATION, HERE, HAVE THIS BEAUTIFULLY CRAFTED INCREDIBLY WRITTEN UNBEARABLY PAINFUL BONFIRE OF A FANFICTION, GO ON, JUST READ IT, oh god, oh god, i am so emotionally compromised i don’t know what to do with myself
want to, would love to, but tragically cannot (unless we’re talking an AU), because with the canon as it stands, i see the steve/sam transition from friends to benefits going one of the following ways:
"So, uh," Sam says, "did you want to share the bed, or should I take the floor?"
Steve gives him an exasperated look. “Yeah, Sam, take the floor. It’s the least you can do, especially after taking a leave of absence from your job to keep me sane while I hunt down my brainwashed best friend. Actually, you know what? I think you should sleep in the hall.”
Sam rolls his eyes, but the tension in his shoulders eases, and he drops his duffel on the bed. “The hilarious Captain America, folks. Sharing, then?”
"Sure," Steve says easily, heading towards the shower. Then he grins, wicked, and adds, "Unless, of course, you’ve got some sort of panicky heteronormative idea about the acceptable boundaries between male friends, a concept enforced by the patriarchal structure of — "
"I am never," Sam groans, collapsing back on the bed, "letting you listen to NPR again. I pick the music for the rest of the trip. I pick the music for the rest of my life.”
Steve, the irritating bastard, starts humming Trouble Man as he shuts the bathroom door, and just laughs when Sam yells, “You learn too fast! You learn too much,” over the sound of the shower spray.
Steve/Bucky, 25,000 words. It is like steel, the determination inside of you that tells you you will achieve this, that you will find him. Nothing will stop you. You are two sides of the same coin, you and he: he cannot escape you forever. Bucky runs. Steve follows.
Although you do not remember it you were born in the slick hot July heat, the hazy yellow light of the morning that will never again touch these antiseptic fluorescent hospitals; you were born screaming as your mother stared out at the sky and the tops of buildings, stared out at the city and felt life finally sliding out of her, a pain, a void, something like ecstasy, in those years before everything, before depression and war come again and the slow building up and breaking down of your country. You were born in the hot warm death days of the last war and thrown head-first into a new one, and you did not die in the ice but you will die in the water: finally, finally, you will die in the water, after all this time, as you should have, as was owed to you; you will die, like he did, after a fall.
whatever your plans were for the day, ABANDON THEM and read this instead. ABANDON THEM AT ONCE. god, god, this is so good i feel like it’s done me some kind of physical harm, like maybe while i was distracted by reading it, it whacked my all over my body and heart with a large mallet. ABANDON YOUR PLANS. ABANDON THEM!!! NOTHING MATTERS BUT THIS FIC. NOTHING.
but here's the thing: if everything was leaked, there's a not inconsiderable chance that tony now knows it wasn't an accident but an "accident" that killed his parents. thoughts?
ha ha ha HA HA HA HA, don’t mind me howling and rending my garments over here in the corner, this is totally normal, howling clears the lungs and these garments were due for a rending anyway, I AM TOTALLY FINE. but, okay:
i think, actually, that tony has suspected his parents were murdered since pretty much the day they died. at first it was because he was 17 and his entire family was abruptly gone and it was easier to think of it as foul play than as something senseless, a twist of fate that could’ve been changed by any one of a hundred thousand variables. i think he probably got drunk and slurred to a worried rhodey that he knew what’d happened, that someone’d killed them, that everyone would see in the morning when it was on every paper and television show: howard and maria stark, killed for their money. howard and maria stark, killed for their technology. howard and maria stark, killed by a disgruntled former employee, by a crazed fan, by some lunatic trying to impress jodie foster — by anything except an accident, a fucking car accident, like they were just any old regular people and not tony’s fucking parents, what the fuck.
of course, the next morning came, and then the one after that, and then the one where tony stood between rhodey and obie at the funeral and tried to tell himself that he believed it, that he knew it, that someone had killed them and someday he’d find out how and why. that someday he’d avenge them, and prove to them — to himself — that he could do at least that much.
(he didn’t believe it, but it was easier than the alternative. he didn’t believe it, but it was nicer to think about than anything else.)
CAPTAIN AMERICA FEELINGS THAT ARE ACTUALLY ABOUT TONY STARK (which: I APOLOGIZE FOR ME, i will post captain america feelings that are actually about captain america later, but, like, are you surprised, are you really surprised, COULD ANYONE POSSIBLY BE SURPRISED, if i am not at any given moment actively talking about tony stark it’s only because my emotions are too intense to put them into words. i am obsessed. i know this. we all know this.)
posting this before bed in hopes of causing it to happen again: last night a magical thing happened and i dreamed an amazing episode of brooklyn nine nine
amy got shot rescuing a bunch of people from a hostage situation (it was badass), and she was taken to the hospital, and when she woke up from surgery jake was there? but jake had made the panic decision that he should make her hospital room into something she’d like, so he’d used her apartment as inspiration and covered the ENTIRE ROOM, like EVERY SURFACE OF THE ROOM, with paper doilies.
"YOU LIKE DOILIES," jake yelled, wide-eyed, from beneath the doily on his head, when amy through the haze of several different painkillers still managed to judge him. "I THOUGHT YOU APPRECIATED OLD-LADY CHIC, AMY!!!! I THOUGHT THIS WAS HOW YOU ROLLED!!"
i’ve honestly never been sadder to wake up in my life, it was so beautiful
bacarat said: How I Ate Your Cruller: the donut is a fucking lie.
based on what actually happened on himym, i would imagine the plot of how i ate your cruller going something like this:
lights up on ned hoseby, 20-something white male, who just wants a great job and a fantastic apartment and true love and the best friends in the world and everyone to agree with him always and to contribute a building to the new york skyline and THE SINGLE BEST DOUGHNUT IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND NO EXCEPTIONS, is that so much to ask???? he’s kind of a gigantic tool but he’s got inexplicably awesome friends — long-time couple milly and larshall, playboy arnie, and of course intrepid reporter wren, with whom ned falls in love instantly despite having never spoken to her before!
cue nine seasons of content, in which we see these characters grow and change — well, except for ned, but whatever, once a tool always a tool, we’re not watching for him anyway. also he keeps dropping all these hints about how fate keeps bringing him closer to it, the One True Best Donut Ever, with every passing day he takes one step further on the path to The Donut, and even though he’s kind of a tool, whatever, we’re invested in his search. it’s the title of the damn show! and in the meantime we see him date and break up with wren a couple of times, see wren fall in love with arnie, see ned FINALLY show enough GROWTH and CHANGE to let it GO
and then ned encounters it, the best donut of all the donuts, the donut to which all donuts aspire, the central focal point of nine seasons of content, and he THROWS IT OUT THE WINDOW OF A MOVING TRAIN INTO AN ACTIVE VOLCANO AND THEN USES THE FUCKING BLUE FRENCH HORN TO VIOLENTLY BEAT A LONG DEAD HORSE god i’m so mad
how i met your brother: nine seasons of build-up just to reveal that YOU HAVE NO BROTHER, YOU’RE AN ONLY CHILD AND THERE’S NOBODY OUT THERE TO DONATE THAT KIDNEY TO YOU AFTER ALL
how i audit another: nine seasons of informing you that haven’t done anything wrong and the IRS is only interested in your boss just to reveal that YOU WERE THE FALL GUY THE WHOLE TIME AND NOW YOU’RE GOING TO JAIL
how i let you smother (everything good about this show in 45 minutes or less): a behind the scenes documentary about the show how i met your mother
HERE’S MY PITCH: next season on teen wolf, everything revolves around coach finstock trying to direct a play. something shakespeare. probably macbeth. stiles makes them call it the scottish play because THE CURSE, GUYS, HAVEN’T YOU HEARD ABOUT THE CURSE, DO YOU PAY ANY ATTENTION??? TO OUR LIVES??? BODIES ARE JUST GONNA START FALLING FROM THE RAFTERS AROUND HERE, FUCKING HELL, YOU ALL HAVE TO START READING THE EMAILS I SEND YOU, *GREENBERG IF YOU SAY IT AGAIN I SWEAR TO GOD.*
scott’s macbeth and lydia (obviously) is lady m, and kira and stiles are working stage crew together and danny’s probably running the light board, and they all keep like, leaving rehearsal early to go skulking around and keeping late nights and popping up at derek’s loft all TELL US WHAT’S COMING TO KILL US and shit. only then every episode it pretty much comes to nothing, like, the enemy must be really, really sneaky, or really invested in coach yelling at them for skipping out during a tech week night (OR BOTH)
and then, obviously, it turns out that the enemy is not really sneaky, the enemy in fact does not exist, and the gang’s just paranoid and riddled with issues after the last three seasons of unfathomable nonsense, so it turns out that we just watched an entire season of a show where coach finstock yelled about macbeth and nothing horrible happened to anyone. derek hale sits in the audience of the first night’s showing, with melissa mccall and sheriff stilinski and chris argent, and they all share some overpriced theater booster candy, and nobody sets anything on fire, murders anyone, turns anyone into a werewolf, or dies.
sometimes i remember that the teen wolf timeline takes place over less than a year and i think about poor derek hale and his rapid descent into exhaustion
arriving in town fresh-faced and bright, if angry, eyed
becoming an alpha, letting himself get caught up in the image, swapping out his winter clothes for something more intimidating
but by the end of the summer it’s gone, and so is the drive for vanity, and it’s easier to just trim a beard every once in a while and wear whatever’s at the top of the drawer that day, run inside target when the drawer starts to empty, when there are too many bloodstains. he likes zippers. and buttons. and v-necks, and piping. long sleeves, since it’s starting to get cold again. he’s going into winter with circles under his eyes.
it’s been nine months, and it feels like four years
YES INDEED I DO. To be honest, Teen Wolf is one of those shows where I can really let my multi-shipper hair down; it’s pretty hard to find something I can’t be convinced to ship in that fandom. I only have a few true, hardcore, incontrovertible Teen Wolf OTPs, which are, in order: Vernon Boyd/Life, Erica Reyes/Life, Allison Argent/Life, Peter Hale/Death, The Twins/Going Away For Always (now canon!!!), Derek Hale/Therapy, Lydia Martin/Better Writing, and The Plot/Making Sense (which will never be canon, I know, but IT SHOULD BE, THEIR LOVE IS SO PURE). Other than that, if it can be shipped, I can probably be convinced to ship it!
Also, Scott/Stiles, I mean, that shit drives itself to Fedex and writes its own address label citing the account number it created specifically for the ease of shipping itself, you know what I’m saying? I think I’d have more trouble not shipping them, honestly.
reading gyzym's "Teen Wolf’s Thoughts" and it made me so happy and derek making his own sandwich board and marching up and down beacon hills streets sometimes following people if he didnt think they read it thoroughly, made me giggle, so i had to sketch it!
True life: I opened this at work, and could not muffle my noise of PURE GLEE, and my coworker looked at me like maybe I spent my lunch break getting drunk, and he’s still kind of looking at me like that, but WHO CARES, NOT ME, BECAUSE THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING TO EVER HAPPEN
a. what’s in kate argent’s grave if not kate argent? a bird? a plane? did she crawl her way up outta there without anyone noticing somehow because, like??? she was buried?? there was a scene?? in which we viewed that?? remember??? season two??? the golden haze of yesteryear?? when hair was shorter and things were simpler and no matter what time it was, it was lacrosse time?? SOMEBODY STOP ISAAC BEFORE HE SWANS OFF TO FRANCE WITH CHRIS ARGENT AND ASK HIM WHAT’S UP WITH KATE ARGENT’S GRAVE, oKAY? DID HE DIG A TUNNEL IN THE SIDE RATHER THAN ACCEPT DEREK’S HAND UP THAT NIGHT OR WHAT.
b. i’m Team Argent Women Are Incapable Of Death, do you hear it, that sound in the distance, it’s victoria argent not being dead, it’s allison argent not being dead, YOU CAN’T KEEP A GOOD ARGENT DOWN, we train our sons to be soldiers and our daughters to sacrifice little bits of themselves to ancient gods every year on their birthdays so in the event of a death they just pop right back up again, KATE’S ALIVE SO THEY’RE ALL ALIVE, IMMORTAL ARGENT LADIES OR BUST
c. derek’s really bummed about kate being back because trauma and everything, family murderings etcetera, but also because he can just tell there’s going to be less time now for his side job: walking up and down the streets of beacon hills wearing a sandwich board that reads SCOTT MCCALL FOR MAYOR & PRESIDENT & KING OF THE UNIVERSE on one side and BEACON HILLS <3 SCOTT MCCALL on the other. and it really sucks because scott was coming around, derek could tell, he only said “stop doing that thing with the sandwich board, dude, it freaks people out, i’m not even running for anything,” once last week, and now kate’s here, screwing it all up.
d. how can you have a dream after a thing happens that confirms for you while the thing is happening that the thing that happened was real? like, i come from inception fandom, jeff, okay, i get it, dreams are complicated, WE HAVE TO GO DEEPER, but this is just a basic logic issue, you get it? you feel me? TENSES. LINEAR PROGRESSION OF TIME. I DON’T CARE HOW MANY FINGERS STILES HAS???? UNLESS HAVING EXTRA FINGERS MAKES YOU TIME TRAVEL???? why do i watch this show.
e. EVERY DANNY THOUGHT I THINK OF MAKES ME HAPPIER THAN THE LAST ONE, danny the vampire, danny the shapeshifter, danny the modern-day reincarnation of the god apollo, danny who transferred from a school in the lost city of atlantis, danny who is completely human in every way but has a notebook under his pillow that has “someday i’m going to write the most ridiculous screenplay ever and still get to say ‘based on a true story’” written on the cover, danny who’s cousin is a gryphon, DANNY <3
f. i will neither forgive nor forget this season, teen wolf, but i have to say, that cover of bad moon rising was fucking awesome.
“Dude it’s Beacon Hills”—AKA y’all mother fuckers are shit ass secret keepers. Are you serious man. You’ve been bleeding in front of me an inviting me to your weird ass parties and dying all the damn time. No normal teenagers take this much time off school. I hope you realize my best friend was fucking Jackson. Have you met Jackson? Jackson is a subtle as a train wreck on a fucking boat. He turned into a lizard and y’all thought “oh man Danny won’t notice” WHAT DID YOU THINM HAPPENED WHEN I HELPED RECOVER THE FOOTAGE YA DIP SHITS. Do you know who my closest girl friend is? Lydia fucking Martin. Did you think I wouldn’t notice her going crazy? Fuckin Stiles invited me over to his house and was like “this is my cousin Miguel” are you shitting me I realize that this is Derek Hale I watch the news. God fucking dammit guys. (via fuckyeahstydia)
Introverts, in contrast, may have strong social skills and enjoy parties and business meetings, but after a while wish they were home in their pajamas. They prefer to devote their social energies to close friends, colleagues, and family. They listen more than they talk, think before they speak, and often feel as if they express themselves better in writing than in conversation. They tend to dislike conflict. Many have a horror of small talk, but enjoy deep discussions.