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livingcorner · 3 years

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12+ Ways to Make $1000 a Month from Your Garden (Year Round!)

They say when you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life. Well, I love my garden and given a choice I’d be out there amongst my garden beds day and night. There’s a big difference between gardening and farming though, and while I love my garden I’m not cut out for the life of a farmer.

While bringing in a full-time gardening income is a bit tricky, making a side income from your garden is easier than you’d think.

You're reading: 12+ Ways to Make $1000 a Month from Your Garden (Year Round!)

Most people see gardening as a seasonal endeavor, that starts in the spring and ends in the fall, coming and going each year. Up here in Vermont, our summer growing season is only a sad 100 days or so, and if I confined my efforts to those short months it wouldn’t make for much of a side hustle. I think it’s important to find a way to earn a consistent side income, so I’m providing options for every month of the year (even in a cold climate like ours).

Beyond that, our land is mostly forested, which means the definition of “garden” is a bit loose. We grow mushrooms in the shady spots and tap maple trees in season. We also forage the wild bounty that nature’s garden has provided, meaning that we don’t have to limit our “gardening” to a small tilled section of the yard.

Even if you’re lacking space in a small suburban lot, expanding outside of the traditional garden into local parks, or taking your garden indoors with salad sprouts, closet mushrooms, and seedling trays will allow you to make use of the space you have year-round.

Here are a few options to earn a substantial side income from your garden every season of the year, with ideas for both city and country folk.

(Be sure to check local laws and restrictions before you start with anything, as those vary widely from place to place.)

Winter Garden Income

While you’d think winter would be the slow season for backyard garden income, believe it or not, it’s actually the best time for making money from your garden. You’re generally less busy with planting and weeding, but everyone is stuck inside dreaming of the garden bounty to come.

Indoor Salad Gardening

January is when everyone’s making new years resolutions to live healthier and eat more salads, but it’s a pretty rough time for gardening in most places. If right around the end of the year you plan ahead with an indoor salad gardening setup, you’ll be in the perfect position to market microgreens and sprouts when they’re in high demand.

Local farms around here sell winter micro greens CSA’s and unlike summer shares where they net less than a dollar on a head of lettuce, winter greens command high prices. A small bag of specialty microgreens runs $12 to 15 each. And I really mean a small bag, maybe 3 cups of at most.

The trick is to grow high-quality, specialty greens that get people excited when the grocery store options are minimal. The book Year Round Indoor Salad Gardening is a great resource to get started, and covers all you’d need to know to grow your own greens. At that point, the problem is scaling up and marketing.

Start a Small Backyard Seed Company

You may think you need to be some kind of multi-national to sell seeds, but in reality, customers are looking toward sustainably grown seed for specialty heirloom varieties these days. It doesn’t get much more sustainable than a backyard garden, and buying seed locally ensures that you’ll get varieties perfectly suited to a particular growing region.

Choosing the right crops is key to generating a good income selling seeds. Tomato seed, for example, is very easy to save and a single tomato often has enough seed to supply a dozen seed packets. The flowers are self-contained, and it actually takes work for plant breeders to hybridize a variety, which means they’ll come true to variety even with many different types grown in the same garden.

Most importantly, people get really excited about tomatoes. Ever wonder why 1/3 of any seed catalog seems to be tomato seed? With all that love for tomatoes, customers are liable to drop $5 for a locally grown packet of seeds for a really great variety.

While tomatoes are really easy, there are many varieties that aren’t much harder. You need to know a bit about seed saving, not only harvesting and cleaning the seed, but about how pollination and selection works by variety. Some varieties require a minimum population size to avoid inbreeding in the long term, and all that’s important to know before you get started.

Seed to Seed is generally recognized as the most encyclopedic book on seed saving, covering just about every variety you can imagine. It has great breadth to get you started, but not a whole lot of depth.

The Seed Garden is hands down my favorite seed saving book. It’s well written and covers varieties in great depth. It’s authored by The Seed Savers Exchange which does great work in the field of preserving heirloom varieties.

The Complete Guide to Seed Saving has a lot of stellar reviews, and it’s the next one I’m going to add to my gardening library.

Even in a small town environment here in Rural Vermont, there are about a dozen local seed companies. High Mowing Seed started out really small just down the road from us, and now they’re a big national brand. Milkweed Medicinals sells specialty seed that’s hard to find, and they now sell in all the local coops.

Find your niche and there’s a great income to be made with homegrown seed.

Selling Cuttings

Even easier than saving seed, selling cuttings is an easy way to make a healthy income from your established plants in the winter months. There are a number of varieties, like grapes for example, that need to be cut back or pruned in the winter. Those cuttings are perfect for starting new plants and many gardeners are willing to pay good money for tiny pieces of your established crops.

I just bought 30 elderberry cuttings from Norms Farms at $4 each to propagate at home. Elderberries grow readily from cuttings, and it’s an economical way for me to get a huge bed of them started. Elderberry plants from a nursery cost about $30 each, so I’m happy with the transaction and the seller just made $120 off a tiny box of trimmings.

There are a number of plants that grow well from hardwood cuttings, some like black currants, are as simple as snipping off a tip and sticking it into the ground. Others require a bit more attention and prep work to the cuttings, but they’re still beginner level.

Scion wood, or cuttings from apple trees to be grafted onto rootstock, is similarly lucrative. All you need is a couple of established apple trees of known varieties and you can harvest cuttings for sale.

Usually, each cutting is only a few inches long, so shipping them isn’t a big issue. There’s a marketplace on the seed savers exchange website, and a scion wood cutting sells for about $4 each.

Start by learning a thing or two about plant propagation, first so that you can establish your own cutting beds, and then so you can educate customers on how easy it is to grow plants from cuttings. Try reading Practical Woody Plant Propagation for Nursery Growers to get you started.

Read more: Why Does My Garden Hose Keep Bursting? | GardenAxis.com

A handful of elderberry cuttings that sell for $4 each.

Growing Mushrooms Indoors

Learning to grow mushrooms is a bit different than most standard garden crops, so this one will take some studying for even seasoned gardeners. Still, there’s the potential to grow large crops from a small indoor space year-round.

The book Organic Mushroom Farming and Mycoremediation describes in detail how to set up a back closet, extra nook or spare bathroom to grow mushrooms with minimal time investment (2 hours a week).

He has a great breakdown of costs, inputs, and yields…but in summary, you can make about $100 per week from a small setup that takes up a 4’x4′ footprint. The system scales easily, with minimal extra time investment, meaning you only need slightly more space to increase that to a grand per month.

The best part, they can grow in recycled 5-gallon buckets picked up from restaurants, and they consume waste products like spent coffee grounds, that you can often pick up for free.

If you have access to outdoor space and hardwood logs, growing shiitake mushrooms is also a great place to start for beginners, but outdoors, harvests would be in the warmer months rather than winter.

I don’t know about you, but when I had an office job my co-workers would have loved to buy fresh mushrooms to take home for a fancy Friday night meal.

Spring Garden Income

Spring is when everyone’s mind is dead set on their own gardens, and it’s a great time to capitalize on the surge in interest in all things green.

Selling Dandelions (and other wild weeds)

While countless suburbanites are spraying their lawns trying to eradicate the dandelions, more savvy gardeners are realizing that one person’s weed is another’s delicacy. Dandelions are edible root to shoot, and better yet, they’re also highly medicinal.

Dandelion root tincture sells for about $12 per ounce, and it only takes a root or two per ounce. The spring greens are highly sought after by local food coops, where they sell for $4-5 per bundle. Not bad for a pile of weeds.

Beyond dandelions, there’s all manner of early spring green “weeds” that can command high prices if you know how to identify, harvest and process them. Chickweed is incredibly invasive, but also delicious, and chickweed tincture has plenty of medicinal uses too.

There’s nothing like making a bit of side income from weeding your garden early in the spring. You’ve got to do it anyway, might as well make it pay.

Dandelion roots harvested for homemade tincture.

Growing Spring Ephemerals

An ephemeral is a crop that has a very short season, and it may only be around for a few weeks before the plants go dormant (or unharvestable) for a full year. Ramps, or wild leeks, are a slow-growing ephemeral that’s only around for a few weeks in the spring, but during that time they’re in high demand by both home cooks and fancy chefs. Knowing where to find a good wild patch is hard, but they’re actually remarkably easy to naturalize in your own backyard.

Growing ramps from seeds just requires the right conditions. Moist soil, under the shade of deciduous trees. The more leaf cover the better.

You’re not growing anything else in that much shade, so growing your own ramps is a great way to earn top dollar from an otherwise unproductive patch of land. This is a long-term venture though, as leeks are slow-growing, and they’ll require about 5-7 years before your first harvest, but after that, a well-tended and sustainably harvested patch can last indefinitely.

Fiddleheads are another crop that’s generally wild foraged, but it’s remarkably easy to cultivate. They can actually be pretty invasive, and I spent a long time weeding them out of my garden so I could grow anything else. I just dug them up and tossed them into a heap, and they kept on growing and spreading from there as if nothing happened.

Fiddleheads can be really productive, and they sell for about $20 a pound here in Vermont where they’re common. You might get even better prices somewhere they’re more scarce.

Since they’re productive, fern heads can be pickled to extend their season, so you can market the bumper crop a bit longer.

My daughter holding a harvest of fiddleheads and ramps.

Selling Spring Seedlings

Selling spring veggie seedlings is an obvious choice. Tomato seeds cost about a tenth of a cent each, but a healthy started plant can easily sell for $5. Sure, there’s the cost for potting soil and pots, but the profit margin is still huge on seedling sales.

The trick is, you’re investing your time and energy into starting plants off right, so others don’t have to. This is one of the most lucrative ways to make money from your garden if you invest in the right equipment and can master the process.

A greenhouse, even a small backyard model, is essential for producing seedlings early enough in the season. As for resources to get you started, The New Seed Starter’s Handbook covers everything in detail, including troubleshooting guides if your plants aren’t performing.

Beyond the income from selling seedlings, you’ll also save a boatload by starting your own seeds instead of purchasing starts. That’s one of those penny saved is a penny earned propositions, and any seedlings you don’t sell can just go right into your own garden.

Take a look at the local market this spring, and see if there are any gaps. Do all the tomato seedlings sell out quickly, or is the market flooded? If there’s plenty of other vendors, consider growing something niche like medicinal herbs.

Start a Backyard Nursery

Similar to growing out your own veggie seedlings, starting your own backyard nursery extends the income beyond the busy spring season. If you’re growing perennials, you don’t have to worry about any unsold plants at the end of the year. Just tuck them in for the winter and try to sell them next year.

Propagating plants from cuttings is remarkably easy, and all it takes is a bit of time and patience. Those elderberry cuttings that sold for $4 each (above) as trimmings will sell for $25 to $30 as full-sized potted bushes in a few years. Just the patience, time and space required to grow out the plants pays back in dividends later.

This is actually a big part of our retirement plan, and we’re putting in perennials throughout our land to serve as cutting sources later when we open our nursery. In the meantime, they’re beautiful, and most are edibles like elderberries, so we’re harvesting the fruit for our table while we patiently bide our time to retirement.

Backyard plant nurseries don’t require that much space, as potted plants can be stored fairly close together.

Summer Garden Income

Summer is peak growing season and it’s a great time to earn income from what you’re growing at home. The big farms and CSA operations have the lettuce market cornered, but backyard gardeners can break into the market by offering really novel crops. Start by focusing on high-dollar items and unique crops that get people’s attention.

High Dollar Specialty Crops

You’re never going to compete with the 100 acre organic CSA down the road on most generic crops, but those big operations cant grow everything. They can grow a lot of the staples most families use every day, but backyard gardeners can grow small amounts of truly specialty crops that demand high prices. Here are a few good options:

Husk Cherries – Also known as ground cherries, these plants produce huge crops of sweet pineapple/strawberry flavored fruit. They grow on plants similar to tomatoes, and each bright orange fruit is wrapped in a papery husk. Just one taste and you’ll want more.

Before we were growing our own, I’d buy them for $5 a pint…now I know that each plant can produce more than a gallon of fruit even with neglect. If you hand out samples, these will sell themselves. It also helps if you give people creative ways to use them.

Cucamelons – Also known as mouse melons, these tiny little grape-sized cucumbers taste like a cross between a cucumber and lime. They’re really wonderful fresh out of hand, and they make great pickles or mixed drinks. The cuteness factor means that these sell for about $5 per half-pint.

Berry Pick Your Own

To complement our backyard nursery retirement plans, we’re also planning a pick your own operation. This requires more space than most of the other ideas on this list, but after the initial setup, labor is pretty minimal.

A while back I calculated the rate of return on a raspberry pick your own, and you’d need about 250-row feet to produce $1000 worth of raspberries. For us on 30 acres, that’s a drop in the bucket, but that may be more space than you can devote to any one crop.

Strawberries are similar, in that a plant generally yields about a pound of fruit in a season, and requires 1-row foot. At $4 per pound, you’d need the same amount of row feet as raspberries. The benefit there is, strawberry rows are much more closely spaced so this may be more practical for some.

Read more: 37 Garden Border Ideas To Dress Up Your Landscape Edging

Garden Tours, Tea Times & Classes

Though it’s not my cup of tea, garden tours and country tea times are a good option for flower gardeners. A local nurseryman around here makes a good side income hosting tea time in his home garden, and runs an annual tour of his extensive plantings, along with specialty days for big blooms (like daffodils). Our gardens are more down-to-earth and “homestead” than they are attractive, but many people’s are just the opposite.

All it takes is a few tables, a decent scone recipe, and a few good teapots, and you’re ready to run a weekly afternoon tea time in the garden. Add in tours and maybe a few gardening classes and you’ve got yourself a ready source of income from your own beautiful backyard.

Medicinal Herbs

With the increasing demand for more alternative remedies, there’s never been a better time to grow medicine in your backyard. Locally grown herbs are still hard to find in most areas, but plenty of people are looking for them.

Many medicinal herbs are perennials, which means you plant them once and you can harvest them for years. And the same compounds that make the plants medicinal also make them resistant to deer and insects, which means less maintenance than garden veggies. For the most part, they’re perennial, persistent and more importantly…profitable.

There’s a high demand for medicinal tinctures since they’re ready to use, and our local coop has half an aisle dedicated to them. Tinctures sell for $8 to $12 an ounce, but they only cost about $1 to $2 an ounce, even if you’re buying in the herbs rather than growing them.

Add in another $1 for the tincture bottle, and you’re still making a pretty sizable profit per bottle. Choosing crops that are common and in high demand, like echinacea tincture can help you break into the market.

As you’re just getting started, I’d recommend Backyard Medicine as a way to dip your toe into harvesting and making your own herbal remedies, especially from wild crops. If you’re considering growing herbs for profit I’d highly recommend The Organic Medicinal Herb Farmer: The Ultimate Guide to Producing High-Quality Herbs on a Market Scale. It’s written by farmers that grow just a few towns over from us, and they’ve inspired a lot of people to take up growing medicine for the market.

The Herbal Academy of New England also has a course designed specifically for herbal entrepreneurs. The course walks you through the basics of creating your own brand identity, marketing, sourcing herbal ingredients, manufacturing herbal remedies and creating a business plan around herbs and herbal remedies.

Fall Garden Income

The end of the garden season, fall is generally when the crops come in. In my mind though, it’s one of the more challenging times to make income as a small producer.

There are a lot of products on the market, and it’s hard to stand out. With the holidays right around the corner though, marketing yourself as a niche producer of really unique homegrown gifts can work to your advantage.

Honey & Bee Products

Gardeners need bees and bees need gardeners! Raising honey bees is a great way to support pollinator communities, but with all the challenges that face hives these days, it’s best to be educated before you start. There’s a really great book called Natural Beekeeping: Organic Approaches to Modern Apiculture that covers just about everything you need to know to keep your bees healthy naturally.

In a good year, with our short Vermont growing seasons, bees can produce as much as 100lbs of honey for harvest. The current bulk price at our coop, meaning bring your own container nothing fancy…is $7 per pound. Pre-packaged just in mason jars, honey goes for $10-12 per pound, and considerably more in specialty gift packaging.

Add in things like bee pollen or propolis for medicinal use, or comb honey, and you have yet more high-dollar items to market.

Honey, especially locally sustainably raised honey is in high demand just about everywhere. People are realizing that bees are important to our environment, and many will be happy to pay for local honey just knowing that it means supporting someone who is stewarding such an important resource in their neighborhood.

Apples, Cider and Cider Press Rentals

My doctor has a small apple share side hustle that she runs with her sister, selling harvest shares to neighbors in her spare time. They have a few full-sized apple trees, and each one produces around 100 to 120 pounds of apples per year. These days, conventionally grown supermarket apples are about $3 per pound…and locally grown apples fetch a premium above that.

She sells shares ahead of time and then divides the harvest as each tree comes to bear. Distributing them to shareholders every week or two as each variety ripens over the season.

We have other neighbors who sell fresh cider that they press from their trees, at $12 per gallon. Last year we pressed nearly 80 gallons from our trees, most of which went into hard cider and homemade cider syrup (like maple syrup), but we easily could have sold it instead. Instead of selling our cider, we have a different strategy for earning our income during apple season.

We invested in an efficient double-barrel cider press, with the thought that we can rent it out to other small apple producers. People with one or two trees in their backyard love the novelty of pressing their own cider, and around these parts a press rents for about $50 for the afternoon. Over the course of the season that can really add up…

Year-Round Garden Income

Beyond different things you can do seasonally to earn a few thousand a couple of months a year, there are things you can do year-round to earn a steady income related to your garden.

Garden Blogging

I know, making income from blogging seems too good to be true, but writing about diy, gardening, and self-sufficiency is now my full-time job. Within 6 months of starting this blog, I started making an extra $1000 a month. After 9 months of writing, I was able to quit my day job, and now at 18 months in I bring in more each month than any job I’ve ever had.

The best part? All I do is write about what we’re already doing here in our daily lives, and I spend my days playing in the garden and out foraging in the woods with my kids.

I was inspired to take the leap into blogging when I read the book Make Money Blogging at Any Level by my blogger friend, Victoria at A Modern Homestead. She outlines in detail how to earn a substantial income, even from a very small blog.

She was able to retire her husband and supports her family exclusively with her blog. If you’re considering blogging as a source of income it’s worth the investment. It’s $27 for the book, and I made that back in my first week with my blog following her tips.

She also has a much more comprehensive blogging e-course that takes you through everything you need to know to launch your own profitable blog. It’s a bit more of an investment, but it’s the perfect way for a beginner to learn everything they need to know to launch their blog fast and start earning money.

Garden Micro-Influencer

Making money on Instagram is all the rage these days, and you’d be surprised how many companies are willing to send you free products just for a promise that you’ll post at least 1 picture of it to Instagram with honest feedback. Once you have even a small following, companies will pay you for your time reviewing it (and you still get to keep it for free…)

Looking for a little inspiration? You can always follow along on my Instagram for ideas…

Hopefully, this helps inspire you to turn your gardening passion into a meaningful side hustle. If you have any other ideas, let me know in the comments below.

More Income Inspiration

How to Make a Full-Time Income Off-Grid

8 Ways to Make an Extra $1000 a Month on a Small Homestead

Making Money with Small Scale Maple Sugaring

Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Garden

source https://livingcorner.com.au/12-ways-to-make-1000-a-month-from-your-garden-year-round/

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stranger-who-writes-fiction · 3 years

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Okay I was gonna do another SG:WoT post anyway because we’ve got a new King interview but THEN, he released the cover to issue four so you KNOW I gotta geek out about this.

(Sorry that this blog is all SG:WoT, all the time now, but I am just. Insanely excited that Evely is drawing Supergirl. Feel free to block/mute these posts as needed. XD)

Okay, so!

First! The interview!

It’s on (ugh) screenrant so I’m not gonna link, I’m just gonna nab the interesting bits:

On the different direction of the book, and if he wanted to go back to the original Adventure Comics vibes: “So, the idea of this thing was to strip her story down, because Supergirl has a majorly weird history in terms of continuity. At least 13 writers have rewritten her origin over the years. Her dad has 13 origin stories; sometimes he's evil, sometimes he's a robot, sometimes alive, sometimes he's dead. She's changed dramatically in the last 10 years, between coming back to life to the New 52 to Rebirth. She's gone through so much that it's hard to get a hold of her. Not to mention in the '90s, when I was coming up, she was like an ectoplasmic space angel. There's so much there, and I just wanted to take all that stuff off and get to the core of the character; get her out of her normal environments and her normal conflicts. It seems like all our stories are about her dad or her relationship to Superman. Instead, let's see the purity of that character.”

On starting the book the way he did: “...I wanted to start out with a very human moment of a person turning 21 and getting drunk. And a person who is getting drunk because they want to be alone, and they just want to forget about the shit that's happened in their past. That's such a human moment. And the fact that she's Supergirl, so she waits till it's legal - because these super people, they follow the rules. She waited, and now it's legal and she can have this moment. She goes off by herself, with her dog that always follows her, and she has a moment where she can be free. For a lot of people in the US, whether you've been drinking since you were 14 or started that day, your 21st birthday and the day after are days you remember for the rest of your life. It's a day of freedom and consequence, and I wanted to show Supergirl going through that.”

On rising to the challenge of helping Supergirl perform better, sales/popularity-wise: “ When I first got on this book, I called Steve Orlando, who had just written a Supergirl run. And he was the one who opened my eyes to how good the character is. He had such insight into her. He was like, ‘There is a difference between Clark and her, and what she's gone through.’ He just laid it for me.”

On starting the book off with Ruthye’s journey, and gradually building to Kara’s: “ I was like, "Okay, this is going to be from the point of view of someone under Supergirl." And so I switched the point of view to this new brand new character, whose name is Ruthye. And we went from there: we start with Ruthye's story, we see her discover Supergirl, and she's our audience. She's our way in, the way Robin has always been the way into Batman.”

On whether or not other characters will show up, outside of Supergirl and Ruthye: “It's like my Superman: Up in the Sky, where it's a distillation of the character. You'll see other characters, but the focus of every issue will be on Supergirl. And it's something where at the very end, you can be like, "Why is Supergirl great? Why is she important to the DC Universe? What is her future in the DC Universe? Here, read this one trade that can answer all three of those questions at once."So, there will be other characters in the Super universe. But the focus will always be on her; on Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow. It's her finding out about herself and her own strength.”

On Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow vs. his other titles: “Supergirl is my first 2021 book, or my first book of the 20s. That wrapped up my books of the teens, and now we're in a new generation. God willing, from the moment I started this book, I was like, ‘I'm gonna take a risk, and I'm gonna write books that are a little brighter.’ I know that's coming from me, and it's not to say we're going to avoid conflict or we're not going to explore the depths of the human soul. All that stuff will be in there. But these books are made from a place of joy, not from a place of anger; from a place of hope, not from a place of despair. It very much contrasts to those other books, in my mind.”

On how he thinks folks will react to the Krypto cliffhanger: “I mean, they're gonna think it's a good cliffhanger. That's how I think they're going to react. They're going to say, ‘I want the next issue.’ That's literally my job as written in my contract. Something where at the end of an issue, someone says, ‘I want more.’ So, that's how I hope they react.”

As mentioned, this is not the full interview; the whole thing can be found on screenrant, and I think Tom King shared a link on his twitter.

And now, as always, SOME THOUGHTS:

I love that he brings up the fact that so many Supergirl stories focus on Zor-El and Clark, and how he was like, ‘let’s not do that.’

That’s my big gripe with modern Supergirl comics; they are trying so hard to make a statement on why we need both a Supergirl AND a Superman, that they end up spending ALL THEIR TIME talking about Clark, instead of, you know. Telling a fun Supergirl story.

Same thing with Zor-El! I know folks love Rebirth--I like it quite a bit myself--but I think the nostalgia goggles prevent folks from remembering that the whole first arc of that book was re-doing the ‘Cyborg Superman’ garbage from the Nu52.

Speaking of Rebirth, really like that of all the recent SG writers he coulda talked to, he talked to Steve Orlando.

Like, if ya can’t get Gates on the phone, get Orlando.

(I get the sense that Gates doesn’t like this book, actually, based on a vague tweet. But don’t quote me on that.)

Looks like Ruthye is gonna be our POV/audience insert character for the whole run. I’m...mmmm. I don’t love it, but I understand the logic here. Especially since he compared it to Batman and Robin--how you use Robin as your entry point for a bat book.

And you know what? Kara’s supporting cast needs some help, so. Welcome to the Superfam, Ruthye.

I also love the explanation behind the drinking thing, as well as the fact that Kara waited until it was 100% legal for her to drink because OF COURSE SHE WOULD.

I am so worried that Krypto is gonna die b/c of what we saw in Future State. I’m over here with my Pepe Silva board like, ‘Well, what if Kara agrees to help Ruthye because Krem MURDERED HER DOG?!?! WHAT IF THIS IS JOHN WICK IN SPACE?!?!?!’

So I am DISMAYED that King does not reassure us AT ALL.

Thus I am forced to cling to this tidbit here: “ But these books are made from a place of joy, not from a place of anger; from a place of hope, not from a place of despair. It very much contrasts to those other books, in my mind.”

Killing the dog would not be joyful. XD So, like. I’m REALLY HOPIN’ HE’LL BE OKAY.

AND LASTLY, (Except not really)

I have some additional, miscellaneous thoughts unrelated to the interview b/c I’m me and I’m loving having a Supergirl comic back on the shelves, however polarizing it may be.

Something I realized, when details started to come out regarding the book, and that other folks have now noted as well: Kara was 16 when Rebirth launched in 2016; she’s just turned 21 in 2021, making her one of the extremely few comic characters to age in real time.

I don’t think that was planned, but it is cool.

It occurred to me on a re-read that Ruthye never calls Kara Kara in her narration, only Supergirl. And I was a little sad! But then I remembered that Kara wouldn’t necessarily reveal her identity to people she’s helping, she would just be ‘Supergirl’ to them.

I really do love how, so far, there has been NARY A MENTION of Kara angst-ing over being in Clark’s shadow, or being Superman’s cousin.

It appears that her drinking alone on a remote planet is more related to trying to forget her trauma/grief related to Krypton. MAYBE. We don’t know yet.

The Clark thing could still come up. I hope it doesn’t.

(Interesting to note! Kara recently appeared in Action Comics, helping Clark and Jon investigate some Kryptonian refugees; IDK how closely these books will necessarily ‘work together’ in terms of continuity, but! It’s possible that the discovery of those mysterious refugees was triggering, thus sending her on her way to her own solo title.)

(Well. That’s gonna be my headcanon, anyway. XD)

AND LASTLY, (for real this time)

ISSUE FOUR COVER!!!!

Okay, some immediate thoughts:

GOOD LORD IT’S STUNNING.

I loooooove the fire motif, reminds me of a part from the Rebirth run, where Kara met the Super-Man of China, and they visually referenced All-Star Superman, having the Kryptonians kind of...become the sun.

Also STAR CHART?!?! PIRATE MAP!?!?!?!

The VIBES I tell you, the VIIIIIIIBES.

Also I love that it’s just Kara.

Don’t get me wrong! I like Ruthye just fine so far! But yeah, yeah, give me some more solo-Kara focus, even if it’s just in the art.

Just realized that once this thing gets collected as a TBP, we might get some Evely art backmatter. OhHhhHHhhH YESSSS.

Anyways, the long wait for issue 2 begins!

#stranger speaks #long post #supergirl: woman of tomorrow #comic thoughts #comic opinions #interview

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

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Lost and Found (Sixteen)

Ughhhh Tissues Needed

Also Generic WS-typical warning for mentions of slightly torture-y things

MASTERLIST HERE

*****************

“Sir, could I remind you that use of this particular suit results in more wear on the arc reactor? With numbers pushing 70%, surely you don’t want to risk it?”

Tony called James from the suit as it blasted towards Washington D.C., ignoring the warning numbers on the screen as the arc reactor surged to maintain the suits demand for power and the projected poison levels in his blood climbed higher.

“Tony?”

Just hearing James’s voice made Tony’s resolve falter, and he was glad he’d programmed in the auto pilot for D.C. as the need to turn around and forget what he’d learned, forget about Project Resurrection and the Ghost Protocol climbed strangling up his throat.

“Hey.” he tried for bright, but was afraid it only came out miserable. “Why don’t you fly out to DC tonight? Have Pepper come with you in the jet. I have to get to a meeting that’s taken about three years to arrange, so I took a suit.”

“I can just wait till you get home again, sugar.” Happy called something in the background and James laughed and the sound almost killed Tony. “What sorta meeting was so important it took three years to set up?”

“Nothing you should worry about.” Tony lied. “But it would be fun to have dinner in D.C. or something, right? I’d like to see you tonight.”

James’s voice got soft, “Dunno how I feel about getting back into D.C. but I’d like to see you tonight too. You feeling better? Last night you were real tired.”

“I’m feeling better.” Tony promised and he’d never lied so much in his life. “Let me know when you guys land and I’ll send a car for you. See you soon?”

“See you real soon, sweet thing.”

********

From Rhodey: Pep says you’re in D.C.? If you aren’t sucking face with soldier boy, let’s get dinner.

From Tony: Only if it’s one of those giant steak eating places.

From Rhodey: Tones, last time we ate at one of those I threw up for three days.

From Tony: And you were gorgeous the entire time.

From Rhodey: I hate you

From Tony: Smooches!

It was so damn easy to lie over text message, maybe that was how Tony should handle every conversation from now until 100%.

It was warm out, but Tony still wore a long sleeve to hide the handcuff on his wrist that attached to the briefcase at his side. Eventually--if he had time-- he was going to tap the tech into a watch that would form into a gauntlet and then a suit from there but for now he had to carry the admittedly stylishly packaged armor at his side.

JARVIS was right, using the suit took more energy than the other ones simply because it assembled in place instead of using robotics to piece together around him, but it had been worth it to get to D.C. so quickly...

...and it would be worth it tonight if everything went right and he needed to leave. If everything fell into place the way it should, but the way Tony kept secretly hoping it wouldn’t, he would leave and not take anyone with him so the suit was perfect.

Perfectly like a prison he kept willingly locking himself into and wasn’t that a piece of poetry worthy of writing down or at the very least making into a tragic movie or maybe he could request it got put in his biography because there should be at least one true thing amidst all the crap they were going to write about Tony Stark.

At least one line should be truth, even if everything else was written by people who had never known him at all.

But he shouldn’t think about that. Not yet. Not at only seventy percent, he had another ten maybe fifteen percent before he had to think about a biography, right?

Right?

Christ, it was getting hard to think.

The SHIELD headquarters were ostentatious and ugly, an eyesore at the banks of the river and a clear warning to anyone who thought to look twice at the city and dare to take a shot. The Pentagon might house the dressed up generals who gave out orders, but SHIELD was the real power behind the United States Government right now.

The ugly building housed all the best minds, all the best weaponry, and spoke of a clearly visible statement Director Fury and Secretary Pierce had been less and less subtle about in the past few years-- Fuck. Off. America is done playing nice.

Not that Tony blamed them for being so blatantly bold. There was no need to be subtle when there was an actual legendary super soldier leading the charge to protect America’s interests both at home and abroad, right?

Tony and Fury met in a little cafe along the river, the eatery quiet and unobtrusive in a way that was meant to be as visibly invisible as possible. There was nothing particularly interesting about the staff or their uniforms, the menu didn’t boast anything that would garner extra attention, there was never a chalkboard out front with a gimmick or sale to draw pedestrians in to try a daily special.

It was the sort of cafe someone either went to as a habit, or never even noticed on their commute and it was exactly the sort of cafe where Nick Fury preferred to get his tuna melt sandwich.

“Well this is quaint and terrible.” Tony sat down across from Fury with suitcase settled between his feet and sunglasses firmly on his face. “What happened to high profile business meetings at steakhouses, or at the very least good greasy pizza? And are you eating a tuna melt? With a fork?”

“Contrary to what you might believe, my Ma didn’t raise a heathen.” Fury was a sight to behold in his trademark trench coat, intimidating eye patch and somehow more intimidating single eye, a napkin tucked neatly at his collar and a knife and fork held daintily to cut his sandwich into bite sized pieces. “And this isn’t as good as hers used to be, but it does just fine for our conversation today.”

“Alright then.” Tony motioned to the waiter, and pointed towards Fury’s plate. “Could I have the same thing please? Make mine with pickles.”

“You’re pushing it.” Fury warned. “You don’t disrespect a sandwich by putting pickles on it.”

“Ma’am, would you make that extra pickles please?”

“Damn you, Stark.”

“Don’t tell me how to eat a sandwich and I won’t tell you to not do all of--” Tony made a vague motion to encompass all of Fury’s look. “--all of this. You look like the Grim Reaper.”

“And you look like a man the Grim Reaper isn’t too far from visiting.” Fury stabbed his fork at Tony bluntly. “Lookin’ like chicken shit these days, Stark. What’s going on?”

“Nothing that matters.” Tony waved off the Director’s sarcastic concern. “I need to talk to you about two things and then we can move on.”

The Director made a ‘go ahead’ motion and went back to eating. Tony watched the knife and fork dissection of a perfectly respectable tuna melt for a moment and then stated, “I don’t trust Pierce. I went to his party a few weeks ago and got a real sketchy vibe from him.”

“Uh-huh.” Fury nodded. “And?”

“And since you have the whole all seeing eye thing going on, I thought you’d want to know.” Tony smiled up at the waitress when she brought him the sandwich, and with eyes firmly on Fury, took a huge bite and crunched deliberately through the pickles. “How do you feel about him lately?”

“I feel like the world’s most reckless billionaire should be more concerned about the effects all that poisoning is having on your complexion and less about what those of us in trench coats are doing.” Fury wiped his mouth and pointed over his shoulder to someone Tony couldn’t see. “Brace yourself, Stark.”

“Brace myself for wha---OW!” Tony jumped when a needle jammed into his neck, delivered courtesy of one rather spandexy clad Natalie Rushman. “Christ! Natalie, what the fuck!?”

“I forgot you still think her name is Natalie.” Fury pushed his plate away and then dragged a chair over for the redhead. “Tony Stark, meet Natasha Romanov. Former KGB agent, former Russian Foreign Intelligence Service, former traitor to that particular country and defector to this one, and currently my favorite agent at SHIELD.”

Tony rubbed at his neck a few times and scowled at Fury, then over at Natalie/Natasha. “Former KGB? That was dismantled in ‘91, and you’re only twenty four. Nice try.”

“You do pass for a very convincing twenty four, Tasha.” Fury took a sip of his water. “In fact Mr. Stark, Natasha here is an absolute beauty at the ripe old age of--”

“--you tell him I’m a day over thirty and I’ll cut your tongue out.” Natasha said coolly, and Tony blanched but Fury didn’t so much as blink. “Tony, I just gave you a shot of lithium dioxide. It’s not going to solve anything with the palladium, but it’s going to temporarily slow down the effects so you can focus. I know you’ve been struggling with it for a while, there’s no other way to explain how scattered you’ve been.”

“First you stab me, then you insult me? You are fired.” Tony breathed in slow and purposeful, then out again when his headache started to ease thanks to the hypodermic hit to the neck. “Warn a fella before you shank him, is this foreplay to you scary spandex types?”

Natasha gave him one of those always consistently enigmatic smirks and Tony accused, “How’d you get here so fast? Pretty sure Pepper told me you two were shopping today. In fact, I’m pretty sure she took the jet to Vegas just to spend a gross amount of money.”

“The moment you hung up with Director Fury I excused myself from Ms. Potts and headed towards D.C from Vegas.” Natasha held up her hand to stop the next words from Tony. “And yes, I know there’s no civilian aircraft that could possibly get me to D.C. faster than your suit would, but you left an hour or so after me and also, as everyone is now aware, I am not a civilian.”

Still literally and figuratively wounded from the jab to the neck, Tony only huffed at the redhead and went back to eating because honestly, a new secretary turning out to be a secret spy wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened. At least she was on their side, right? Later Tony could get a little hysterical about having a former KGB agent helping him pick out ties, but for right now, he had other things on his mind.

“Alright then. Ms. Romanov. How do you feel about Secretary Pierce?”

“I don’t think that’s the question you’ve come to ask.” Natasha deflected, green eyes glittering curiously. “So ask the other one.”

“Okay I will.” Tony put his sandwich down and pleated the napkin between his fingers until it tore. “How long have the two of you known the hundred year old prisoner of war Sergeant James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was camping out in my house in Malibu?”

“If it makes you feel any better?” Director Fury shrugged. “We just thought he was the Winter Soldier. Wasn’t one hundred percent on the Barnes angle until recently.”

“The Winter Soldier.” Tony repeated, and this time his mind snapped into place with out the stuttered click click click of trying to process. It was almost like being him again and even though Tony knew the lithium oxide was a poison all in itself, he was already wondering how many shots of it he could take to remain lucid up until the end. “Ghost assassin from the sixties and seventies, silver arm, once thought to be Steve Rogers risen from the ice and back to seek revenge. It was James, instead. Product of Hydra experimentation, amiright?”

“And then some.” Fury nodded. “When Project Resurrection came to be and the Captain woke up, he asked for his best pal Bucky and then his best gal Peggy in exactly that order. SHIELD had been aware of the Winter Soldier for decades, but we couldn’t have imagined the connection to the missing Sergeant Barnes. The Captain saw a surveillance photo, said he’d recognize that scowl anywhere, and went off half feral trying to track him down.”

“Half-feral.” Tony glanced between the two of them. “Captain America. Are you serious?”

“I spent almost two years at his side.” Natasha spoke up. “Half feral is an understatement. I’ve never seen a man so determined to burn the world down if it meant finding his friend.”

“Two years.” Fury echoed. “And then just over a year ago, a few months before Stane engineered your trip to Afghanistan, the Winter Soldier dropped off the map. Guess Hydra got tired of having their spots blown to shit or something like that, decided to cut their losses and run.”

Tony only blinked and Fury explained, “Turns out the Captain isn’t exactly the aw shucks good ol boy those posters made him out to be. Anything that stood in the way of finding his Bucky went up in flames, and the man didn’t care if anyone was left inside. On more than one occassion, Romanov went into the rubble herself because the Captain wouldn’t do it. It was a wasted effort though, there were never any survivors.”

Tony looked around and then lowered his voice. “Captain America let people die like that?”

“Not the aw shucks good ol boy we all thought.” The Director repeated. “Never seen a man so angry in my life when we lost the Soldier. Definitely never could have predicted you’d show up with him as your date at a few high profile event. I see a lot.” Fury pointed to his one good eye. “But even I didn’t see that coming.”

“Does the Captain know about James?”

“We thought it was best to feel out the situation and see if we were dealing with the Winter Soldier or if we were actually seeing Sergeant Barnes.” Fury hedged. “Wanted to be sure we weren’t going to walk into a situation with a still activated super assassin when from all appearances, he’s just a nice kid with some memory loss situations. Captain Rogers isn’t the sort to knock and ask to come in, he would have brought that fancy Malibu house of yours down into the ocean trying to get his friend.”

“That seems a little over the top, but--”

“--but you’ve never been seventy years out of your own time looking for the one person in the world who can understand what you’ve been through.” Natasha interrupted. “I’m telling you, there isn’t anything that would stop the Captain from trying to get to his Bucky.”

“His Bucky.” Tony echoed faintly. “Is that so?”

“I’ve been watching James for several weeks now.” Natasha’s voice dipped in sympathy when Tony’s face flickered with misery. I don’t think he remembers anything about his time as the Winter Soldier, but you’re closer to him. What do you think? Do you think he knows who he was?”

“No way.” Tony denied tiredly. “James doesn’t know anything. Not his last name, nothing about technology or recent history. He panicked about using too many eggs the other day and now that I know what I still can’t fucking believe I know... it makes sense. In some weird way, everything I know about James makes perfect sense now.”

“So Sergeant Barnes doesn’t remember anything before he showed up in D.C.?”

“Nothing at all.” Tony said adamantly. “He remembers waking up beneath a bridge and then everything’s a blur for a while and he’s not sure how much time passed. He thinks he lived a year in D.C. before meeting me, but he doesn’t know anything beyond that.”

“That could be for the best.” Natasha muttered, and Fury nodded.

“Well you can be sure we will be keeping an eye on the situation.” the waitress came by for the plates and Fury waited until she was gone before mentioning oh so casually, “I have something that belongs to you, by the way. Your dad left it in storage along with instructions to give it to you when you were ready.”

“I have everything I want of Howard’s and none of it’s worth anything at all.” Tony shook his head. “Forget about it, I want to meet the Captain.”

“You’re going to want this.” Fury countered, and pulled up a photo on his phone. “The real thing is about ten times heavier than anything I’d ever want to life, but take a look at it anyway.”

“I’ve seen this.” Tony barely glanced at the picture. “It’s Dad’s diorama model of the Stark Expo. I used to race my cars up and down the roads until he screamed at me to stop. Why would I want a giant piece of cardboard that holds so many shitty memories for me?”

“I don’t know why you want it.” Fury put his phone away again. “And I don’t know why Howard wanted you to have it. Something about how you’d see the design when no one else could, and how he wouldn’t ever have access to the tools necessary to make it a reality, but you’d probably be the one to invent the technology to make it happen.”

“That’s nice.” Tony pulled out a couple twenties and dropped them on the table to cover the bill. “Put it in the mail and I’ll open it when I get back to Malibu. I’m feeling normal for the first time since Afghanistan and I’m not going to waste it on some homework from beyond the grave. Take me to see the Captain.”

“He’s going to be cranky.” Fury tried one last time to stall the stubborn billionaire. “He doesn’t really sleep much, and since losing track of the Soldier, I don’t think he sleeps more than a few hours a week. Maybe you don’t show up as your patented brand of asshole, huh?”

“I do what I want.” Tony stood up and patted the Director on the shoulder. “I’ll see you and Mrs. Super Spy later on. We should talk about Pierce.”

“I know what you’re doing Stark.” Fury said then, and Tony paused. “You’re getting everything set up so when that poison kills you off, your boytoy is set with someone he knows and loves.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“I’d say it’s admirable, but really I think it’s cowardly.” Fury shrugged. “You’re doing all this without even trying to fight, without figuring out a way to beat it. Gonna sign ye olde master assassin over to the Man with a Plan and then jet off somewhere dramatic to die. Cowardly way out.”

“I’ve exhausted all my options.” Tony said flatly. “I’ve tried everything over and over and nothing works. Now my option is to make sure the people I care about can keep on going with out me. How is that cowardly?”

“This might shock you, but the world will keep turning without Tony Stark in it.” the Director retorted, and Tony shot back, “Yeah well, at least this way it keeps turning with my loved ones well taken care of. Send the address to my phone please, I’ve got a star spangled super soldier to meet.”

Natasha sent a text with directions to Tony’s phone, and after Tony had stalked out and hailed a cab, she turned to ask Fury, “Why does he want to talk about Pierce?”

“Don’t you worry about Pierce.”

“Director--”

“Ms. Romanoff, I am already dealing with Secretary Pierce. Don’t you worry.”

“Do you really think he’s being cowardly?”

“I think if Tony Stark wasn’t so tired of living in pain, he’d realize he could just invent something new to cure himself.” Fury stated. “I watched his dad create scientific miracles out of every day things. Watched his Auntie Peggy create unbreakable codes based on her knitting patterns. He’s been so obsessed with being Iron Man that he’s forgotten he’s Tony Stark. If anyone can fix what is literally killing them, its a Stark. Hell, he did it once in a cave with a box of scraps. He should damn well be able to do it in a state of the art lab.”

Natasha’s lips tipped up at the corner. “You like him.”

“I think he’s a spoiled brat with a small man complex.” Fury picked up the dessert menu. “But I think our world is a lot better off with him in it, so yeah. I’d appreciate if he didn't keel over and die.”

“You like him.”

“You’re pushing it, Romanov.”

*************

It was fifteen minutes to a low rise apartment building, three flights up stairs and then down a long hallway until Tony could raise his hand and knock at the door of a piece of American history

Two knocks and then three more just because Tony was impatient even on his best days and today was not one of his best days.

Besides, when else would he have the chance annoy an actual living Smithsonian relic by knocking too many times at their--

“Can I help you?” The door swung open to Big and Blond and Patriotic, deep blue eyes and a square jaw, ruggedly handsome in a way that the old posters and pictures had never come close to capturing, and the sort of bulging All American Muscles that belonged on a Lumberjack’s Weekly pin up calendar.

Holy Spangles, Batman. Tony thought, and then grinned internally because that hit to the neck might have hurt but at least it had given him back Grade-A witty one liners. Thank you, Ms. Rushman-Romanov.

“Captain Steven Rogers.” he finally dragged his eyes away from the muscles and up to the piercing gaze. “It's nice to officially meet you. Name’s Tony Stark, long time fan, first time fanboy. How are you?”

“Tony Stark.” Captain Rogers extended a hand big enough to cover Tony’s entire face. “Howard’s boy, isn’t that right? Director Fury has mentioned you a few times. Figures you’d know about me being awake, though I’m a little surprised it took you this long to track me down. Howard wasn’t exactly the patient, subtle type and Fury made it seem like you inherited all those qualities as well.”

Tony blinked, and Captain Rogers grimaced. “Ah. Sorry. That came out worse than I intended. I’ve never been quite as charming as those old movies like to pretend I was.”

“No that’s--” Tony blinked again. “It’s fine. It’s actually a little hilarious-- um--”

“I was real sorry to hear about your parents passing.” The Captain’s blue eyes dimmed in sympathy. “I didn’t know your Ma, but despite me and Howard’s differences, we worked together for several years. He was a good man.”

“He was an asshole even on his best days.” Tony finally found his words, and offered a smile to his childhood nemesis hero. “But that doesn’t change the good work he did, so thanks. And yes, I inherited all of his less than charming traits and created a few more of my own which is why I’ve known about you and Project Resurrection for a few years now but just couldn't muster the interest to give a damn.”

“Any by the way, if you were a brunette, I’d be charming your pants off.” Tony winked because he couldn’t stop himself from flirting with an American icon. “But you’re blond, so consider yourself safe from my efforts. That and it’s hard to think sexy thoughts about the literal embodiment of the American flag.”

Good God, even the Captain’s laugh was patriotic, head thrown back and a hand over his heart like he was pledging allegiance to hilarity and Tony looked away to hide an answering grin. Shit, he didn’t want to like Steve Rogers, he had spent his entire life trying to measure up to the bastard, he didn’t want to be making friends when they had more important things to talk about.

“If it makes you feel any better?” Captain Rogers was still cheesing a grin. “Under all that patriotism I’m just a loudmouth Brooklyn kid with a big mouth and not a single shred of self preservation.”

“Eh.” Tony made a show of shrugging. “You’re still blond. I tend to prefer them brunette--”

--he hesitated, then pulled out the picture of he and James together at the redwoods. “--And smolderingly intense in a scary ex soldier sort of way. You know the type?”

All laughter fell away in an instant, the surprisingly easy conversation Tony hadn’t expected to find with Captain Rogers ground to a halt, the smile on the big blond’s face wiped away as quickly as it had appeared.

“I took that in the redwoods last week.” Tony actually took a step backwards when powerful shoulders squared up and one of those massive hands closed into a fist. “Me and James-- we’ve been living together the last couple months. Figured it’s high time you and he got together again, you know?”

“James.” The Captain’s throat jerked when he swallowed. “Not Bucky. He goes by James now?”

“James is the only name he knows.” Tony watched him carefully for any sign of what might be rage, but there was only heartbreak on the rugged features. “We’ve been looking for answers into his past, but it wasn’t until early this morning I came across a family link and traced it backwards. You can bet I was surprised as hell to find myself looking at a picture of you two when the facial recognition software finally pinged him.”

“I see.” The picture shook in the Captain’s fingers and nearly tore between his grip. “Mr. Stark--”

“Call me Tony.”

“Tony. I think you’d better come inside.”

****************

The apartment housing the Greatest American Soldier was sparse to the point of being bare, clean to the point of being sterile, and warm enough that Tony broke into a sweat just walking through the door.

“Sheesh, Captain.” Tony undid a few buttons at his collar. “Tropical, much?”

“Sorry, I’ll turn it down.” The Captain really was massive, had to turn sideways to get down the narrow hall and to the thermometer. “I uh-- I’m always cold, you know?”

Tony waited with a raised eyebrow and Captain Rogers pursed his lips, shoved both hands into his pockets self consciously. “I did seventy years in the ice, Tony. That’s the sort of chill that gets into your bones. Into your soul. I’m always cold. Can’t seem to shake it.”

“I can fix that.” Tony spoke before thinking, the words eerily similar to his very first thought about James. Was it the super soldier thing that drove him to offer help? Or just the countdown and toxicity monitor and desperately tallying marks on the good karma side so maybe it would get him into heaven?

“I can fix that.” he said again. “I’d think a super soldier would run hot because of your metabolism, so the cold is probably psychosomatic and a weighted blanket or even a sweater with heavier threads might take care of it. People equate weight with warmth, and being covered with being safe so if you let me get some sizes I could have my AI run some programs and figure out a material that could--”

He stopped when the big blond just looked at him. “Sorry, Captain. I tend to ramble. Alot.”

“Call me Steve.” the Captain went for some water and handed a bottle to Tony, then sat down in a nearby chair and clasped his hands between his knees. “And you know, your Dad did that too? He’d get an idea and talk for an hour and you’d start the conversation not even knowing you needed the thing he ended up handing you when he was finished.”

“Sounds like Dad.” Tony agreed. “Guess I did inherit all his annoying habits.”

“You must get your looks from your Ma, then.” Steve said casually, and when Tony about fell out of his chair in surprise, he grinned. “Oh no, not for me. I mean sure, I can appreciate a good lookin’ fella just as much as the next guy, but I used to tell Buck if he got together with Howard--”

“I might actually throw up if you finish that sentence.”

“--then we could double date, but he said he’d sooner kiss Dugan.” he finished and Tony breathed out noisily in relief. “If he likes you, you must look like your Ma. Buck couldn’t hardly stand to be in the same room as Howard.”

And then almost awkwardly, “No offense meant.”

“None taken, most days I couldn’t handle it either.” Tony rolled the water bottle between his palms. “So um, how are you adjusting to life in the twenty first--”

“Tell me about Bucky.” Steve interrupted and Tony’s mouth clicked shut. “I wanna know everything. Where did you find him? How did you find him? Does he know who he is? Who I am? Does he know about--”

He clenched his jaw. “--does he remember being the Winter Soldier?”

“Captain.” Tony began slowly, but Steve cut him off again, “It’s just Steve, Tony. Captain Rogers, Captain America, that’s not who I am. I’m Steve. Call me Steve.”

“Steve.” he started again. “James--er, Bucky-- and I met a few months ago in a diner right here in D.C. I don’t know if you watch the news at all, but I was mid Senate meeting and mid nervous break down, apparently he was just there having breakfast. I saw he was missing an arm--”

“--his left arm?”

“--his left arm.” Tony nodded. “And since I have a weird assortment of various robotic arm pieces laying around the house, I told him I could build him a new one. I gave him a whole spiel about wanting to do some good and that he didn’t have to take me up on the offer but he told me--”

“--that you got a pretty smile.” Steve interjected. “Yeah, you’re just his type. Dark hair, pretty eyes, big smile. Just his type.”

The simple statement from the soldier warmed Tony clear down to his heart, and he ducked his head to hide a barely there flush. “Uh, anyway. He came home to Malibu with me and we’ve been there ever since. He’s getting better. No more panic attacks and his Brooklyn accent comes out more every day and um--”

It felt awkward talking to a total stranger about his boyfriend--partner? He was too old to call someone a boyfriend, right?

It felt more awkward talking to a total stranger that wasn’t really a total stranger considering how Tony knew everything everything about Steve Rogers and Howard had literally helped create the soldier. More awkward talking to a not-total stranger who actually knew James Bucky better than Tony could ever hope to. More awkward talking to a not-total stranger who knew Bucky better than Tony did and would be around at Bucky’s side after Tony--

--after Tony--

“--sometimes I think he’s remembering things, but then I don’t really know.” he finished lamely. “Captain, er Steve. I’ll be honest, it seems weird to tell you about your best friend. I can tell you that he doesn’t have nightmares anymore and that he hasn’t had a panic attack in weeks. He likes Rocky Road ice cream and looks great in the color red and when he calls me sweet thing I actually melt a little bit inside. What else do you want to know?”

“I just want to know if he’s okay.” Steve said softly, softly, spread his hands helplessly and made those All American baby blues as heartbreakingly earnest as possible. “Tony, I woke up from the ice and found a picture of the Winter Soldier and spent the next two years trying to figure out what the hell had happened to my best pal. How did he survive the fall? Who captured him? What have they been doing with him? To him?”

The Captain’s throat jerked when he swallowed. “Does he-- does he smile? Do you make him smile? Or is he real quiet now? Did they ruin him? Break him?”

Steve got to his feet to pace, rubbing his hands down his thighs in agitation. “I’ve read all the Winter Soldier files, Tony. I know what they did to him. You know they-- they didn’t do that stuff to me. Howard juiced me up and sent me out the door but Bucky? He was always a good soldier but there’s a lot of steps between a good soldier and a master assassin. What they did to him to make him into the Soldier…”

His steps stuttered, faltered, and when Steve turned around to pin Tony with a look, his jaw was set stubbornly. “Tell me how he really is. Did they break him? Is he even Bucky anymore?”

“I don’t know if he’s Bucky anymore.” Tony said slowly, honestly. “But I know he’s James, and he’s a good man. Not broken. Definitely hurt, but not broken. He’s-- I think he’s okay, Captain. Or at least he’s getting better.”

“Okay.” Steve dropped back down onto the chair and the springs groaned under his weight. “Okay okay okay. Have you done any research on the Winter Soldier? About what he did?”

“No.”

“Don’t.” That super soldier strength showed up when the arms of the chair splintered beneath Steve’s fingers. “Tony, for your own sake. Don’t. I haven’t read the mission files because it makes me sick to my stomach but I saw enough of what they did to him to know there can’t be anything good in the other ones.”

Tony’s whole body went cold, horror stricken and wanting to scream thinking about his soldier, his Brooklyn being hurt for however long he’d been captive as the Winter Soldier. “What they did to him?”

“Experiments.” Steve muttered hoarsely. “Testing his strength, his healing factor. Whatever super juice they gave him, they had to make sure it worked so they experimented. Broke major bones to time how long it took to heal up again. Put bullets close to major arteries wondering if he’d bleed out. Made him run until he was vomiting and couldn’t take another step to check his endurance.”

“Shit.”

“They wiped his mind after every mission.” the Captain continued miserably. “Got him to the point where all he could do was carry out orders. That’s not even human, they took his soul Tony. My best friend and they took his soul. Wiped it away every time they hooked him up to that damn chair--”

“Chair?”

“--it had straps.” Steve made a motion and Tony’s heart sank, then sank further still when he added, “I crashed a set up once and it was this monstrous chair. Straps and hooks and this helmet thing that went down over his head to fry his brain.”

“What--” Tony wet his lips, flashes of that first awful panic attack hitting him like a punch to the stomach. “-- What did you do to the chair?”

“Broke it apart with my bare hands and then snapped some bad guy’s femur just because I wasn’t done breaking things.” Steve said coldly, calmly. “I can’t read the mission files, not after seeing that. I don’t think you should read them either. Buck deserves to have people who look at him and don’t see everything he did as the Soldier. He deserves to be loved by people who just see him.”

“Yeah, I--” Tony dug his fingers into his knees and bit back a heartbroken noise. “Yeah, he does. So what did you do with the data? It can’t just be out there, that’s not--”

Even now, his brain was shifting into gear, trying to figure out the next step, trying to figure out what he could do to fix what had happened with James or how he could make sure it never came back to ruin his soldier’s new life. “--it can’t be out there for someone else to find. What did you do with it?”

“Natasha dumped it all.” The Captain informed him. “Burned it, erased it, whatever she does. I’m not really up on all the tech of this century yet. But she swore it was gone, and that’s all I care about.”

“You trust her?”

“...I do.” Steve’s smile was almost… melancholy. Almost lonely. “Most people wouldn’t, but she hasn’t lied to me once so I have no reason to think she would about this.”

“Alright.” It was a relief to know the Winter Soldier’s actions weren’t out there for anyone to find, a relief to know someone else was looking out for James the same way Tony wanted to. “That’s-- that’s good. If Captain America can trust her with that, I can trust her too.”

“Yeah.” Steve screwed his eyes shut tight and pushed out a long breath. “Tony um-- can I see him? Feels weird to ask permission to see my own best friend, but I think you know him better than I do at this point. Can I see him? Will you bring him back to D.C., or could I come with you to Malibu? I searched for him for so long, Tony. The canyon below the train-- I spent days there. Days in the snow trying to find him, and I spent the first years waking up trying to find him… can I see him?”

Quieter, almost afraid, “Do you think he’ll know me?”

“I don’t know.” Tony said honestly, and Steve’s shoulders hunched in like the words physically hurt. “But they should be landing here in D.C. in a few hours and I already sent him this address.”

“Seriously?” Steve’s head snapped up. “You would-- you didn’t even know me. You told him to come here when you hadn’t met me yet?”

“You’re Captain America.” Tony shrugged carelessly, shrugged like his heart wasn’t tearing in two right there in his chest as everything he’d feared started falling into place. This was the right decision but it hurt and his heart could have collapsed under the strain. “And he’s Sergeant Barnes. There’s no question you two should be spending time together, in fact, I’m probably just in the way. I’ll bring him in and as soon as I know James is okay, I’ll leave you in peace and let you get reacquainted.

“That’s amazing.” Steve lit up with a mega watt grin. “Tony, thank you. Thank you. You’re giving me a piece of my life back, I swear. I don’t even know where to begin to thank you.”

“Just...take care of him.”

“I promise I will.” the Captain swore. “I promise. I’ll help him readjust to life and we’ll figure out… I dunno. Netflix together? I’ll help him Tony, I will.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Tony tried for a smile that didn’t feel like it was crumbling at the edges. “Now. Are you a enough of a rebel to have a beer in this place while we wait? Or still too good ol’ boy for that?”

“Are you kidding?” Steve laughed again, and yep, Tony would have been seeing stars and stripes if he hadn’t been blinking back tears. “Good beer is the best part of this century! And I don’t get drunk, so I’ve been trying them all! Come on and pick one out!”

“Picking out a beer with Captain America.” Tony struggled to his feet with a hand over his chest and followed the blond to the tiny kitchen. “How could anyone pass that up?”

“Tony!” Steve sounded immeasurably lighter, the smile on his face evident in his voice as he called, “Does Bucky ever listen to music anymore? Have you ever heard of the Andrews Sisters? We heard them sing the night he shipped out for the war, this was his favorite song!”

Before Tony could object or protest or fall to his knees and beg for mercy because he didn’t think he could take another second of this self inflicted torture, the all too familiar beginning notes of ‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy’ floated through the apartment and everything got worse.

“Me and Pegs used to dance to this.” Steve tossed Tony a beer he could only barely catch. “She made Buck dance too even though he didn’t have any interest in the other dames. She always said one day he’d find a fella to dance with too, have you guys danced together yet?”

“Once.” Tony said faintly. “Just uh-- just the once.”

He closed his eyes when the song got to the chorus, when the beat changed and he could almost feel James pulling him in closer like he’d done that night in the lab when everything changed between them.

“...just the once.”

**************

“Hey babydoll.” James was confused when he finally made it up to the apartment door, confused and stiff when he bent to give Tony a kiss hello. “This is uh--” he cleared his throat. “Don’t like being back here, Tony. D.C. doesn’t have any good memories for me. I didn’t want to come.”

“I know.” Tony stood on his toes to chase one more kiss, gratified when James automatically wound an arm at his waist to hold him. “And I’m sorry but this is important, alright? What we’re doing here is important.”

“Important like the way Pepper’s fancy parties are important?” James teased halfheartedly, and tugged at Tony’s shirt sleeve. “Let’s get out of here. I’m a real big fan of the way you’ve blown off work the last few weeks to spend time with me, we should keep doing that.”

“James.” Tony tried for words and failed, squeezed at James’s fingers and tried again, “I’ve got someone you should meet. Re-meet. Someone you used to know and I think it’s important you see him again. I think he can fill in a lot more blanks, help you out a lot more than I can, alright?”

“I don’t want anyone helping me but you.” James glanced around the hallway, glanced at the door and out the far window, then back down at Tony, shoulders set uncomfortably tense and jaw clenched. “Tony, can we go? Something feels weird here, I don’t like it.”

“It will feel better in a few minutes.” Tony promised. “Just um-- be brave, Brooklyn. Okay?”

“Brave? Tony, I’m telling you this don’t feel right, I don’t want to be--”

Tony turned the knob and shoved the door open before James could finish the sentence, pushed the soldier through into the living room and then hung back to just watch.

Be brave, Brooklyn.

“Bucky.” Steve stood in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets and chin ducked like he was trying to look small, the unmistakable shield sat prominently on one of the chairs, that old picture of he and James from the Smithsonian propped up on the table.

“Holy shit.” The Captain choked out a strangled sort of laugh and freed his hands to run them both through his hair, tugging at the strands and then rubbing at his eyes as they filled with tears. “Bucky. It’s really you.”

James narrowed his eyes at the big blond, at the picture and at the shield, then looked back at Tony in confusion.

“Bucky? Who the hell is--”

Click click click.

“I had ‘em on the ropes.”

“Yeah Stevie, sure you did.”

Click click click.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

Click click click.

“You’re keeping the suit, right?

Click Click Click

“I’m with you to the end of the line.”

Click click click.

I know him.

Stevie.

“...Stevie?”

The Captain covered the room in two big steps and James met him in the middle for a bone crushing, desperate hug. James’s legs crumpled and Steve caught him halfway down, Captain America crying unashamed tears and swearing under his breath as he smoothed Jame’s hair back from his face to get a good look at him.

“Stevie?”

“Christ, Bucky I can’t believe I finally found you. I finally found you and I’m never gonna let anything happen to you again, I swear it. I swear it.” ----

--- Tony closed the door to the apartment and walked alone down the hallway, took the stairs up to the roof and stood for a long time looking over the city, over the monuments in the distance and the barest glimmer of blue from the river.

His phone rang and it was James but Tony ignored it so he could undo the latches on the briefcase suit and step into the boots, shivering as the armor climbed his body and encased him in cold metal before it warmed to his temperature.

His phone rang and it was James, and the picture on the screen was of them at the redwoods, the name beneath “Sergeant Barnes” because already James wasn’t James anymore, he was Sergeant Barnes, he was Bucky.

His phone rang and it was James and JARVIS intoned, “Sir, it’s Sergeant Barnes calling.”

“Send it to voicemail.” Tony whispered and the call shut down as the suit powered up.

“May I remind you sir that extended use of this suit specifically strains--”

“I remember.” Tony closed his eyes for a minute. “Send a message to Rhodey? Tell him I won’t make dinner tonight. He won’t be surprised, I’ve missed at least a hundred dinners. Call Pep and remind her that I owe her something expensive and sparkly and to pick out whatever she’d like.”

“...Yes sir.”

“JARVIS.” Tony’s chest tightened until he couldn’t breathe. “Enable Ghost Protocol.”

“Are you sure?”

“Just like we talked about.” Tony was shaking inside the suit, grateful for the exoskeleton that kept him on his feet. “I won’t let this be catastrophic and I-- I can’t watch while James realizes he doesn’t need me anymore. Start the process now.”

In the lab in Malibu, lights in the lab started to dim and the myriad of suits Tony had worked on for months drew back into the walls. The lock codes blinking on each panel changed from Tony’s preferences to ones coded to Honeybear, to Rhodey, to Sourpatch and Platypus, on and on the list went.

Computer screens flickered as dozens of letters went out to various charities and foundations, notifications of soon-to-be-arriving checks meant for specific projects that desperately needed funded. Signed paperwork irrevocably keeping Pepper as CEO and turning over any stock held by Tony Stark to her after a death certificate was produced was sent off to the proper compliance departments to make sure everything was legal.

A program was uploaded into Dum-E’s limited software that would allow the robot to function a bit safer and up it’s interaction levels to ones that would make the kiddos in the Children’s Wing at the Cancer Center smile and laugh whenever it rolled through the halls.

Back in Washington, JARVIS’s comforting monotone listed off each point of Ghost Protocol as it was engaged and completed, and the phone rang as Sergeant Barnes tried again and again and again.

“Send it to voicemail.” Tony whispered through a sheen of tears, and the call went silent as the Iron Man armor took off from the roof and soared into the darkening sky, punching through the atmosphere and heading for the stars.

This was the right decision.

Send it to voicemail.

73%

***************

Chapter Notes:

Did you cry? I cried.

I love Steve in this verse. The “First Winteriron, then Steve comes Along” dynamic is something I’ve never written, and I’ve also never written Fresh from the Freezer Steve and I sort of love him??

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

***************

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @livewire28 @tulipsnbigcats @kimstark @alex-stark-rogers @bibbarnes @heeeyitskay @goindownshipping @justaniche @actual-demon-belial

@quietgayguy @bluedreamdino @akimi-youngblood @blackstar1602 @dixiehellcat @travellover1245 @capnstarkey @the-awkward-teenaged-one @thanossucks @peteryoulittleshit @tony-and-steeeb @striving-artist @roe-sesandthorns @coolsidedpillow @i-am-worth-it-25 @firelightmystic @maligatorthealigator @simsccsol @a-tardis-in-221b @happyendingrequired @everygoodoneistaken11 @pootie-and-the-snoots @megahuffledor @xkissmeimirishx @crystalskrull @hazelbeatsturtle @wecollectnightmares @endrega23 @saganarojanaolt @the-crazy-house @ravynfyre @yomama-umbridge @lovely--tony @gayspacesprinkles @elliotkaingrey @warmachinesocks @glitternotgold73

#ncts fics #winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #natasha romanov #nick fury

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oldfashionedmoth · 3 years

Text

Fred and George do QVC

Find me on AO3

It was a bright, sunny, Saturday afternoon, and Harry Potter was stuck inside folding laundry. He stared longingly at the window, wishing he was anywhere but here. Lately, he had been feeling listless and filled with ennui. His life at the Dursley’s was considerably less exciting than his life at school. Albeit, he didn’t have a crazed, nose-less, master wizard, trying to murder him here; but even that might have been an improvement, to the boredom he had felt all summer. He glanced across the room at his Aunt Petunia, who lounged on the sofa, half asleep. He wondered if she’d notice if he escaped outside, for a breath of fresh air. Uncle Vernon had just left, with Dudley and his friends, to see a professional football match. This was one of the numerous birthday surprises his aunt and uncle had lavished their son with. Harry would have liked to had gone too, but he was told “the laundry wasn’t going to fold itself.”

“If I were allowed to use magic outside of school, the laundry certainly *would* fold itself.” Harry thought bitterly.

The TV chattered away in the background.

“…and just so we’re clear, these are dishwasher safe?”

“Yes, that’s right, Antonella. The Scrub Daddy is absolutely dishwasher safe.”

“And remember, you’re getting 12 of these! Order code 63528, when you call in.”

“Yes, and just quickly…because I know we are running out of time… I wanted to show you that the design for these is not just a smiley face. These are fully functional. Put your two fingers in the eye holes like so, and it stays on your fingers. That’s going to be fantastic for getting inside of mugs, cups, you name it.”

“Wow! that’s ingenious!”

The presenter turned and addressed the camera directly, holding the item for sale.

“Look! Here is what you’re getting, guys. And this packaging! Ah! This custom packaging is exclusive to QVC, guys. And, all this could be yours, for 4 easy payments of $7.49. Amazing!”

The camera zoomed in, on the presenter’s face.

“Coming up, we have a couple of young entrepreneurs, showing us their latest confections. I’m sure we all know someone with a sweet tooth. Just wait till you see what these boys have in store for us today. But first, make sure you get your orders in for the Scrub Daddy. These things are selling like hot cakes!”

The shot cut to a pre-recorded infomercial, for Scrub Daddy sponges.

“Hmmph!” Aunt Petunia snorted “I should order some of those for you, so you’ll stop ruining my pots!”

Harry muttered under his breath “Well, if you fixed the dishwasher, instead of using me as your personal slave, I wouldn’t have to scrub the pots.”

“What was that?!” snapped Aunt Petunia, “You ungrateful little brat! After all your uncle and I have done for you; taking you in, like we did, after your parents…well…You should be ecstatic that I even offered to buy you anything!”

In a huff, she snatched the remote control off the coffee table and turned up the volume.

Harry put the folded laundry in the basket and stood to bring them upstairs.

“Up next, we have twins Fred and George Weasley, of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, here with us today. Welcome boys!”

Harry froze, gobsmacked. Much to his disbelief, there was his best friend’s older brothers, peddling their wares on QVC. One was wearing an evening tailcoat, which was neon orange with lime green polka dots. His trousers were also neon orange, but with a lime green tuxedo stripe running down each leg. The other twin was wearing the same tailcoat and tuxedo trousers, but in inverse colors to his brother. In contrast to the loudness of their jackets, both boys were wearing black cravats around their necks, giving them a ‘Victorian Regency on acid’ kind of look.

“Thanks for having us, Antonella. We’re happy to be here!” said one of the twins

“Remind us to buy a pack of those Scrub Daddies, before we leave.” said the other, “Our Dad would get such a kick out of them. Sponges with smiley faces. What a concept! Haha!”

His brother leaned into him, and theatrically whispered “We don’t need them ourselves. We can just use Malfoy’s head.” He held up two fingers in a sideways peace sign, and pretended to poke his brother in both eyes. “His hair is great at soaking up grease.”

The twins snickered together, as the presenter, unperturbed, carried on with the sales pitch.

“Fred and George have brought with them some of their Skiving Snackbox candies. Now, judging by the names of some of these, I think these would be perfect as a novelty get-well present, for someone in your life who’s been feeling a little under the weather. There’s something for every ailment. We’ve got ‘fever fudge’, ‘fainting fancies’, ‘nosebleed nougat’ and last but not least, ‘puking pastilles.’ Hehe! Now, what made you boys come up with this concept, for these sweets?”

“Well,” said Fred, “they’re not exactly for someone who’s already sick."

"That could result in some disastrous side effects.” quipped George

Fred turned to the camera and added “Always read the labels, kids!”

George continued, “They make you temporarily ill, if for example, you wanted the day off work. You pop in a fainting fancy. Bob’s your uncle-Fanny’s your Aunt, suddenly your GP has prescribed you a day of bed rest.”

“Oh, but totally 100% all muggle, I mean natural. 100% all natural.” Fred interjected

“Yes, definitely nothing magical about these candies at all.” George agreed, with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, I get it!” exclaimed the host, “That’s just like the Natural Herbal Detox Tea, we had on the show last month. This may be TMI, but I swear I was on the toilet for a week, after that segment! Hehehe!”

Fred laughed and said, “Now would be a good time for me to tell one of my poop jokes.”

George replied “Nah, they always stink!”

“Hey-oh!” they cried, while high-fiving each other.

“You know what you needed?” Fred asked the host, “The Skiving Snackbox’s companion product, ‘You-No-Poo’. Guaranteed to cause crippling constipation in less than 3 minutes!”

“The constipation sensation, that’s gripping the nation!” exclaimed George

“Well, being conscious of time, lets move right along.” Antonella said, “Our viewers at home are probably wondering ‘but how do they taste?’ Let’s find out, shall we?”

She popped a candy into her mouth, and immediately started retching.

“NOOO!” the twins shouted in unison.

“You’re not supposed to eat the whole thing at once!” lamented Fred

“You’re only supposed eat half!” followed George

“The antidote is in the second half.” continued Fred

The poor unsuspecting host began urging in a rhythmic way, “Blech...Blech...Blech...Blech...”

“Oh no!” wailed George “I think she’s stuck in vom-limbo.”

“Both sides of the sweet must be working against each other!” added Fred

“It’s simultaneously trying to make her be sick, and also keeping any sick from coming up.” George concurred.

Panic-stricken, Fred started rifling through his rugsack. He began removing items and throwing them behind him. A roll of parchment; a quill; various bottles and vials; a bowler hat; a cup of tea, complete with saucer; a set of fireworks, which exploded upon impact with the floor; a broom; a Yorkshire pudding; a literal kitchen sink...

Between urges, Antonella asked “How...blech...did...blech...you...blech...fit...blech...all...blech...that...blech...in...blech...there?”

“Never mind that now! Here, eat this!” bellowed Fred, shoving the found antidote in the host’s mouth.

Finally, the retching stopped, but with it came a lengthy spew of vomit across the set, with such ferocity it rivaled Linda Blair in the exorcist. The show quickly switched to camera angle “B” to avoid broadcasting Antonella’s lost lunch to the viewers.

“I think it’s best we...uhh...take a little break,” the presenter said shakily, wiping tears and vomit from her face. “ugh... Up next we have Ken Oschipok with his beautifully iridescent Ammolite and White Zircon silver rings...ahh...oh...just a second, my producer is telling me something...”

She touched her finger to her ear, turned away from the camera and hissed into her mic “What do you mean you can’t find the rings? A Platypus? Are…are you sure it was a platypus? How did a platypus get in here, and why would it steal our merchandise?”

Fred and George exchanged worried glances.

The presenter looked back to camera, with a wide grin plastered on her face, “Sorry guys, we are just having a little bit of...umm...technical difficulties. We’ll be right back wi...OH!”

Suddenly a red envelope swooped down out of nowhere, flicked Antonella across the nose and stopped abruptly in front of the twins. A loud but shrill voice echoed throughout the studio.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY! OF ALL THE COCKAMAMIE STUNTS YOU’VE EVER PULLED — MUGGLE TV? YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU! IMAGINE MY SURPRISE WHEN I RECEIVED A CALL FROM RITA SKEETER, ASKING FOR A QUOTE FROM THE DELINQUENTS’ MOTHER — I NEVER — IN ALL MY DAYS — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK ~ AGAIN! AS IF THE MINISTRY HASN’T BEEN FACING ENOUGH BACKLASH, AFTER THAT NIFFLER GETTING LOOSE, NOW THIS? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU TWO COME HOME THIS INSTANT!!!"

Once the assault on everyone’s ears subsided, the presenter unsteadily staggered out of shot, with her hand on her forehead, murmuring “I think I need a nap, or a drink, or both”

The screen cut to another pre-recorded infomercial; a cheerful rock jingle began to play.

You wanna skip class, but not look like an ass? If you want an excuse; What have you got to lose? You better show some moxie, Grab a Skiving Snack Box-y From Weasley- Wizard - Wheezes!

Harry stood slack jawed, in the living room, transfixed by what had just played out on the tv in front of him. Clean laundry scattered around his feet, from where he’d dropped the basket.

“Bloody Hell! Those crazy troll bogeys!” He thought with a grin. A shocked guffaw escaped his throat.

Aunt Petunia gave him a scandalized glare and shrieked “I suppose you have something to do with this?”

Harry scooped all the laundry into his arms and dashed upstairs before she could chastise him any further. Although, he imagined any tongue-lashing Aunt Petunia could give him, would pale in comparison to the dressing down the twins were probably getting, from Molly Weasley, right now. She is one fierce boss-witch.

“Oh, to be a fly on the wall at the Burrow, right now” Harry said to himself, with a chuckle. “I can’t wait to hear the details from Ron!”

#Harry Potter #fred & george weasley #skiving snack box #weasley wizard wheezes #qvc

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itsmattsunshinehere · 4 years

Note

So here goes nothing....😅😅😅 I have thought of a scenario where a student is studying marketing and has offered herself to promote karasuno's volleyball team. And as she is working with them she makes friendships and developed crushes and love and all that good stuff. With a lot of fluff please.♥️😋♥️ If u can't that's just fine still will love everything you put out your so talented and I love you♥️♥️♥️♥️

Okay so first IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG PLEASE DONT HATE ME 😫😫

I had some difficulties writing it because I didn’t know if you wanted reader to come from Uni or simply Karasuno. You also talked about developing crushes and Im a fool for Daichi so yeah it turned out as a Daichi x reader lol But feel free to ask for another one if you don’t like it!! Thanks for your request, you’re so kind and honestly I think there are people here on Tumblr more talented than me but omg thank you I love you please let me know what you think!! 💘💘💘

-L

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Sweet lovin’.

Sawamura Daichi x reader.

synopsis: just Daichi helping you open a letter from your University.

word count: 1.6 K

tags: fluff

~~~

"C’mon Y/N, open it!" the boy on your right encourages you.

You're a little anxious, your hands are shaking slightly while you carefully unlock your phone. You can't calm down: you know how important is that email, you've been waiting for two weeks now. You open the inbox, but immediately lock the screen, not feeling brave enough.

You knew that getting into the university you were aiming to wouldn't be that easy, so you immediately took as many courses you could to prepare for the various entrance tests you’d have to do. Even so, when you found out you had to bring a completely new and original project, (the promotion of a product completed with data and graphs concerning sales), you were quite surprised not expecting it and soon you started panicking as you saw the million challenges you’d have to face, not to mention all the pressure you felt: after all it was the task you would have to submit if you wanted to be admitted to the marketing courses in what could be your future University (if you made it).

You are resolute and organised, you’ve been making plans for your future since you were really young, thinking about what your job would be when you grow up. You've always liked to read and recommend books to your friends or parents, so you decided to work for a publisher and evaluate which manuscripts to publish and which to discard. But it is clear that to do such a job you also need to know how to sell a product: it is therefore essential for you a degree in Marketing and Communication. You had calculated everything, down to the smallest detail, and yet in front of that email just over two months ago you had trembled, finding yourself deadly worried. On the other hand you had never done anything like this, starting from scratch, without anyone’s help and that’s what was most likely to have determined your admission.

For days you were scrambled to come up with an idea that could represent you 100%, and then you found yourself one day in the school gym in front of the entire men's volleyball team, on the orange flyer in your hands it was written in capital letters "LOOKING FOR HELP FOR OUR MANAGERS."

"Help us grow! If you are interested, come look for us: Sawamura Daichi (3rd year, section 4); Shimizu Kiyoko (3rd year, section 2)."

You immediately saw the opportunity behind that simple piece of paper. You had found your "product" to advertise, it was the opportunity you were looking for and you could not let it got; that's why you let instinct take over you and you headed straight to the gym; you hadn't given it too much thought, knowing too well that if only you'd stopped for one more moment to reflect, you'd only come out with more doubts.

You were presented to your "project" and they had welcomed you with open arms, especially Nishinoya and Tanaka, happy to have more people in their big family and that could lighten the load of work for Kiyoko and Hitoka. Although at first you had no intention of becoming a manager of Karasuno, day by day you had bonded more and more with those guys, finding yourself one day crying in front of everyone because of how boded you were when Hinata gave you with a beaming smile the team uniform. You had learned to appreciate each one of them, everyone with their own special personality, trying to help them as best you could during their training: several times you happened to assist Kageyama and Hinata till late and help them improving their spikes, or healing the wounds and bruises that Noya got, not to mention all the afternoons spent trying to comfort Asahi, in an attempt to raise his self-esteem a little. Then along with Hitoka and Kiyoko you draw posters and opened a fund for the team, you created a page on Facebook by posting constant updates, just as you had created a Twitter profile where only the three of you, Daichi, Suga and Professor Takeda had the access (coach Ukai refused to take part in something that complicated). You saw how slowly your crows got up again attracting more and more attention, just as you had seen your project take shape and come true.

After about a month of joining the team, you had taken the train to Tokyo along with the three third year and Kiyoko, who had decided to come with you to bring all the necessary documents for the application and the eventual registration. Careless as you are, you would surely have got lost, that's why Suga asked you if he could join you and after hearing him, the others had also offered to keep you company along the way.

Finally, another email had arrived on your phone: for three days you did not even look at your inbox, too scared to find out that you had been refused. Not to mention that of all the possible days Suga, being aware of your crush on the captain, had decided that today was the best day to give his contribution and leave you alone with Daichi to tidy the gym putting the last things in place, hoping that you will muster up courage to take the first step and confess. It’s obvious saying that his hopes are unfortunately misplaced.

Daichi, being the kind person he is, seeing you more nervous than usual asks you if you had heard from the University and suddenly you turn pale, telling him all your concerns.

"Good heavens Daichi, I can't do it, please look instead!" you beg the boy by your side. You have the feeling that, if it’s him the one who's telling you you've failed, it's going to hurt less than reading it with your own eyes. The captain picks up your phone with one hand and yours with other, making you blush instantly.

You don't know how or when you started having feelings for him, you only know that at some point you started paying a lot more attention to what he told you and noticing all the details of his face: how he purse his lips when he scores a point, how he snaps his tongue with frustration when during training he fails to serve or receiving Asahi’s services. Of course, you immediately tried to hide it all, choosing to focus on the first years and prevent Tsukishima and Kageyama from biting each other’s face off.

"You have to tell me the passcode, Y/N." he replies with a chuckle, trying to calm you down by caressing your hand in circular movements, causing the opposite effect.

You feel your heart beating wildly, you're not used to having so much skinship between you two, neither being so close with him. Of course, it had happened other times that accidentally in removing the net he touched your hand, but you always tried to pretend as if nothing happened, obviously failing: Tsukishima and Sugawara immediately understood that you had feelings for him, as well as Kiyoko, who immediately encouraged you along with the setter.

You give him the password and watch him carefully swipe his fingers across the screen, opening the inbox and reading the email carefully. After what seems like centuries, he rolls his eyes towards you and with a smile he turns your phone towards you. You rip it out of his hands and read until you find the magic word: ACCEPTED.

"You made it Y/N, you got accepted." He congratulates you and, in a moment of pure euphoria, you throw your arms around his neck, clutching him as tightly as you can as he bursts out laughing and hugs you back.

You feel so comfortable in his muscular arms, you feel warm, feeling almost as if you were home. You would never want to move away, but after a few seconds you two separate, you redder than ever, while he looks at you, smiling, holding once again your hand with his and you look down on the ground regretting being so careless.

"Sorry, I didn't want to jump on-" You interrupt as soon as Daichi raises your chin and brings your face close to his, looking into your eyes, his lips brushing yours, softly, delicately, kindly, almost as if he's afraid of breaking you.

When you separate you look at him surprised, with your mouth agape, unable to say anything, because DAICHI JUST KISSED YOU. You are speechless, trying to understand that what just happened is not a mere dream. The boy meanwhile waits for your reaction, but seeing that you are still silent he lets out a laugh, rather embarrassed by all that courage he showed you just now.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I don't know what’s gotten into me. I'm sorry I should have told you first, but you know I like you so much that seeing you-" he tries to explain you, but you interrupt him right away.

"You what?!" you ask him, your eyes wide open, as he looks at you even more nervous than before, he just wants to sink and disappear sucked into the ground.

“Yes, I've liked you for a while, I thought I'd tell you one of these days. I thought it was pretty obvious..." He tells you, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. You suddenly take the other hand.

“I like you too!" you say with a smile. You remind him so much of a little girl who just got the gift she wanted for her birthday. He can't help bursting out laughing again seeing your happy eyes, wrapping you again with those arms you love so much.

“That’s good, you know? I was dying of shame." He whispers sweetly in your ear, while you smile, letting yourself sink in the warmth of his embrace, chuckling back.

#anime #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haiky?!!#daichi x reader #hq daichi #daichi #daichi sawamura #daichi sawamura x reader #karasuno x reader #karasuno #karasuno daichi

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misssunflowersandsangria · 4 years

Text

Roses

Chapter 4: Pink Roses

Welcome back my sweet readers! If you wanted the fluffy stuff this is the chapter for you! Enjoy!

Summary: Home is a wonderful place to be.

Pink Roses: A deep or hot pink rose can convey gratitude, appreciation, recognition and is a great way to say “thank you,” while a light or pale pink rose conveys grace, gentleness, joy, and happiness.

Flashback

Ino clutched onto Sai as lights flashed across the sky and thunder shook the house. It wasn’t the first time nor would it be the last that he snuck into her room to keep her company during a thunderstorm. When she was younger her fears were far worse and it was only through sheer consequence that she realized having Sai there helped calm her worries. Ever since then he would sneak into the Yamanaka house and would hold her till the rain stopped. He never teased her about her fear and they didn’t talk through it, it was just enough to be together.

“Let’s try something different tonight.”

She looked up at him worried and unsure. “What?”

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life.” Her response was automatic.

“Then come on.” He wrapped her in a blanket and led them to her balcony pulling her forward when she tried to pull him back into the room.

“Ino, trust me.” She took a deep breath and nodded following him out into the rain. Surprising her he had a blanket and pillows laid out on the floor and had her sit.

“We’re facing your fears together.”

He held her while the lightning flashed, the rain fell and the thunder resounded. She’d jump up and duck her head into his shoulder ever so often but she stayed there trusting him knowing that he’d never let anything hurt her.

As the storm carried on it became less frightening and something more beautiful and exciting. Her fears felt unfounded and she began to enjoy seeing the lightning across the sky and feeling the thunder rumble. And it was all because of him.

“Better?” He asked with a smile.

“Yes, but don’t think that this gets you out of coming here .”

He just chuckled drawing her closer. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Later that night Inoichi found them asleep at the glassdoor that led to Ino’s balcony. He knew that for years that Sai would “sneak in” to help Ino during these storms. It seemed though that this time they walked through that storm together.

End Flashback

Sai stared at the blank canvas in front of him. The fact that he had become a well-known artist was a fortunate consequence of him surviving a traumatic childhood. He used art as a way to process his parents’ death and his relationship with his “father.” Art was always his escape, his way to protect himself. The longer he was away from home though, the less inspired he was. Danzo was nothing if not a talented businessman. His work was still heralded as being innovative and cutting edge despite the fact that it was his most clinical and uninspired. Ultimately his name was enough to convince these art people that his work was something special. He needed his art now to deal with all the events of the past month.

He started to paint while thinking about her. The conversation with Ino went better than he could have hoped for. She was still loving and understanding even if he didn’t deserve her forgiveness. Thankfully, she wanted to have a relationship with him. What that meant though still needed to be determined. They had both grown up shaped by the various experiences and trials they’d undergone but he could admit to himself that he loved her more now than he ever had before. She was far kinder, stronger and more beautiful than his mind could have ever dreamed. It only made him wish that they could finally take that next step together.

He read her first letter to him and it brought him back to when they were still naive teenagers. She was sweet, encouraging and hopeful and it hurt that he never had a chance to respond. So he wrote her a reply, and it helped him to process his feelings from that time, ones that he never dared to revisit. It was an opportunity of healing for him and he hoped that maybe one day he’d be strong enough to give them to her.

They had been texting each other back and forth and the last few nights her voice was the last thing that he heard before he fell asleep. It was so easy falling back into old routines and familiar conversations. Ultimately they decided to try to rebuild their friendship and maintain appropriate boundaries while at school. This would clearly be much easier said than done but it was the best that either of them could do.

During class, they maintained their roles never giving anyone an opportunity to question their relationship. Thankfully she was a good student so there was no reason for him to give her special treatment nor did she expect it.

She would visit him during his office hours. Sometimes she actually had questions, most of the time it was just because she wanted to spend time with him and he didn’t have the heart to send her away. She had grown and become a woman of the world and her interactions with him away from prying eyes had become more flirtatious. She’d learned just what to say and do to have someone do exactly what she wanted. Within the confines of his office, she was never more than a few feet apart from him, invading his space and consciousness. The smell of roses lingered long after she left. She always found a reason to be seated right next to him or would ask him to help her with a skill or technique. Her hands would be warm and tucked in his while he tried to explain the art method. The time spent together made it easier to believe that they could finally become something more. Maybe they were ready for a different relationship.

Using one hand he answered her call smiling at seeing her name appear on his phone. “Dad expects you for dinner tomorrow night.” She announced.

He dropped the paintbrush in his hand. “Sai? Did the call get dropped?” She wondered aloud not hearing a response.

He shook his head coming back to Earth. “No, sorry I’m here.”

“He found out that you’re back in town and was pretty insistent that you come by and he knows you’re my professor, it’s hard keeping anything from him.” She was rambling but he’d become adept at understanding her even while panicked. “He wanted you to come by then mom started piling on and I said that you were going to be here tomorrow night. I can tell them you got sick or something…” Ino was happy with how their relationship had been progressing. She noticed how his eyes would linger on her and the sweet blush that would paint his face whenever she got close to him. Perhaps he was finally accepting and seeing what she'd known all along. They were meant for each other. She was worried though that this dinner with her family might scare him away.

“No, that’s not necessary. I’d love to come by for dinner.”

“Really?”

“Inoichi was more of a father to me than Danzo ever was. It would be nice to see them again.”

Ino was stunned speechless this time. “Ino? Hello? Did the call actually get dropped?”

“Thank you, Sai.” He could hear the sincere appreciation in her voice.

“I’m happy to be welcomed back.” He respected Inoichi and appreciated how much he’d opened his home to him when they were younger. Sai knew that it might be awkward. He and the older Yamanaka had things to discuss. If he ever wanted something more with Ino he needed her father's support.

Despite how nervous he was walking up to the Yamanaka house it felt like a real homecoming. “Sai.” Inoichi greeted him with warmth and familiarity. He was older but his eyes were still kind and inviting.

The older man pulled him into a hug and it felt safe and comforting.

“Welcome home son.”

Home, for so long it had been such a foreign concept. But, the only time he ever felt like he was home was with Ino and with the Yamanakas.

It was just as he remembered it. Fresh flowers dotting every room, the large blue couch where they would waste hours away watching movies. There was a large window where he’d often sit and paint. They always left that area clear for him to use. Even now it was there ready for him.

Ino's mother was just as excited to see him fanning her tears while she hugged him. “Sai, oh baby you’ve grown up so much! You’re so handsome. I heard your last piece was sold for over 100 million yen!” He just nodded embarrassed by the attention.

She just smiled with pride shining in her eyes. The little boy that used to be so shy and nervous all the time had become such an accomplished man. “I joked with Inoichi that we should have sold one of the paintings that you gave us, but then you paid for Ino’s tuition so we didn’t really need the extra money anymore.”

The house became eerily silent after the revelation. The Yamanaka matriarch looked around the room confused by the tense silence. Ino wordlessly grabbed Sai and dragged him out of the room.

“Is it true?”

“Yes.” There was no point in lying, she wouldn’t believe him anyway.

“What? How is that possible?” She blabbered confused.

“I wanted to do something to thank you for everything you did for me growing up. So I contacted your dad without Danzo knowing and wired him the money. It was after my first big sale. I asked him not to tell you.” She never asked how her tuition was paid her dad just assured her to not worry about it. This was not what she expected at all.

“Sai…”. The whole time that she was angry and upset with him leaving he was still thinking about her and taking care of her.

“Don’t think too much about it. I was happy to help you follow your dreams. You always supported mine.” He never expected her to find out, especially not like this. He didn’t want her to worry about money when he had more than he knew what to do with. When he contacted Inoichi he tried to convince Sai to talk to her. He rejected the idea worried about her feelings towards him after they’d been apart for so long. This was just something that he needed to do.

Her arms wrapped around him, thankful and overwhelmed. There were no words to express her gratitude and it only added on to the reasons why she loved him.

He held onto her tightly still thinking that the gesture paled in comparison to how much she’d done for him.

Dinner reminded him of the ones he’d had so many times when they were younger. The Yamanaka house had been his safe haven for so long and just being there made him feel comfortable and content. It was as though this was where he should have always been.

“Let’s go talk on the porch son.”

“Daddy! Be nice.” Ino tried to intervene but Sai shook his head.

“Ino, it’s fine,” Sai assured her with a smile before following Inoichi outside.

They took a seat on the porch looking at the flower-filled garden. The purple bush clovers were just starting to come in. The view never failed to inspire him.

“She was really torn up when you left. She’s a strong girl and I never imagined I’d see her like that. Then when her letters kept getting sent back it only reopened old wounds.” Inoichi explained thoughtfully but it hurt remembering that time and how helpless he felt.

There was no anger in his voice, it was just a matter of facts. “I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be, Danzo had custody and you couldn’t have stopped him. We tried. Still, you became a world-class artist, so it wasn’t all bad.” He told him with a warm smile. It was the worst kept secret that Danzo wasn’t the best father. Danzo hadn’t done anything illegal or abusive so despite his disdain for the man there was nothing that he could do. He had to play nice with him for the kids’ sake knowing that he would keep Sai away from Ino if pushed too far. Once Sai became more locally and nationally well known Danzo had begun plans to move him away from the country. He knew that once Sai was of age he would no longer have any control over his actions. No one was surprised by the international move. If they had stayed Sai wouldn’t have served as his cash flow. Unfortunately, Sai had to bear the brunt of the man’s selfishness and greed. He’d faced a lot of difficulties coupled with a lack of control over his own life. Through it all Inoichi was very proud of him.

Sai just shrugged. He knew that he should be grateful and yet he wasn’t quite ready to let go of the guilt. “I guess I just wish that it hadn’t affected her so much. I never meant to hurt her.”

“I know that you never would do so intentionally. Otherwise, I would have never let you hang around her the way that you did. I think that she knows that too. Sai, I know how you feel about her. It’s been obvious for years.” Sai had nothing to say in response, there was no denying his feelings.

“You’ve always been like a son to me. I trust her with you. Please don’t break her heart.” There was no malice or threat. It was a sincere request from a father that loved his daughter.

“I would never do that…Father.” The title only felt right with him and one day he hoped that it would really be true.

Inoichi smiled knowing that there was a shared understanding. That his daughter was safe with Sai.

He did always want to be a grandfather. Inoichi thought to himself wistfully.

“Thanks for coming to dinner Sai,” Ino told him gratefully. This felt natural. Being home with her parents and him right next to her, enjoying a meal together. How she missed moments like this.

His eyes softened as he placed a warm hand against her cheek. “When I was away people asked me about my family and home. I always told them about you, your family and this house. You have always been my home.”

With her eyes wide open he kissed her and despite how nervous he was and how his heartbeat rapidly, this felt right. Her arms wrapped tightly around him as she tried to reassure herself that this was, in fact, real and not some feverish dream. She kissed him back and her lips were far sweeter and softer than he could have imagined. He pulled her closer into his body deepening the kiss. She clutched onto him her body rubbing deliciously against his wanting more, but he had enough sense to remember just where they were.

Sai knew that he was taking a big chance. There were still so many unknowns but for once in his life, he was taking control of the situation. He’d been forced to live the way that he had because of events and decisions out of his control, this time he was taking what he wanted. He couldn't deny himself and her this any longer.

“Good night Beautiful.” He kissed her forehead before making his exit Ino still breathless and surprised. It hurt to leave her there and he was tired of these days and nights apart. Soon enough he assured himself, soon she’d finally be his.

Wouldn't it be nice to have a handsome, rich artist pay for school? :sigh:

How I wish Inoichi had been alive to be a father figure to Sai... Guess that’s what fanworks are for :D

We're racing to the end. I'm used to writing more one-shots so writing a longer story is a different challenge for me. I have a few more things up my sleeve but I've got the rest of this pretty much mapped out. Thanks for all the support! I love you all!

Roses:

Chapter 1: Roses

Chapter 2: Yellow Roses

Chapter 3: Purple Roses

Chapter 4: Pink Roses

#InoSai #saiino #sai x ino #modernAU #collegeau #fanfic

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years

Text

THE COURAGE OF PROJECT

Then when you start a startup anywhere. That's why mice and rabbits are furry and elephants and hippos aren't.1 The very design of the average site in the late twentieth century. He got a 4x liquidation preference. Google, it's hard to get into grad school in math. Can we claim founders are better off as a result of this new trend. Where you live should make at most a couple percent difference. But investing later should also mean they have fewer losers.

They make something moderately appealing and have decent initial growth.2 If you major in math it will be whatever the startup can get from the first one to write a paper for school, his mother would tell him: find a way to turn a billion dollar industry into a fifty million dollar industry, so much the better, if all fifty million go to you. The classic yuppie worked for a small organization. Before us, most companies in the startup funding business. The best way to get a big idea can take roost.3 4 or 5 million. This essay grew out of something I wrote for myself to figure out how to increase their load factors. But you can also apply some force by focusing the discussion: by asking what specific questions they need answered to make up their minds. This plan collapsed under its own weight.4 Startups happened because technology started to change so fast that big companies could no longer keep a lid on the smaller ones.

The only place your judgement makes a difference is in the industry.5 People who do great work, and it's a bad sign when you have a special word for that. One of the exhilarating things about coming back to Cambridge every spring is walking through the streets at dusk, when you can see into the houses. If you have steep revenue growth, say over 6x a year, no matter how many good startups approach him. Recently we managed to recruit her to help us run YC when she's not busy with architectural projects.6 This works better when a startup has 3 founders than 2, and better when the leader of the company in later rounds. I'm not saying you can get away with zero self-discipline.

We're not a replacement for don't give up. What you should not do is rebel. But while series A rounds from VCs. Someone who's scrappy manages to be both threatening and undignified at the same world everyone else does, but notice some odd detail that's compellingly mysterious.7 Even Tim O'Reilly was wearing a suit, a sight so alien I couldn't parse it at first. They can't tell how smart you are.8 The story about Web 2. Maybe one day the most important thing is to be learned from whatever book on it happens to be closest. This essay is derived from a keynote at FOWA in October 2007. They'll decide later if they want to raise.9

Sometimes it reached the point of economic sadism: site owners assumed that the more pain they caused the user, the more benefit it must be to them. It's cities that compete, not countries.10 Kids are curious, but the best founders are certainly capable of it. But investors are so fickle that you can fix for a lot of time on work that interests you, and don't just refuse to. But you have to be an insider.11 A key ingredient in many projects, almost a project on its own, is to step onto an orthogonal vector. So ironically the original description of the Web 2. Back when it cost a lot to like I've done a few things, like intro it to my friends at Foundry who were investors in Service Metrics and understand this model I am also talking to my friend Mark Pincus who had an idea like this a few years ago.12 0 seemed to mean was something about democracy. We didn't have enough saved to live on. There is another reason founders don't ask themselves whether they're default alive or default dead.13

So most investors prefer, if they wanted, raise series A rounds. They're unable to raise more money, and precisely when you'll have to switch to plan B if plan A isn't working. That doesn't mean the investor says yes to everyone. Miss out on what? It's so cheap to start web startups that orders of magnitudes more will be started. Investors evaluate startups the way customers evaluate products, not the way bosses evaluate employees. The bust was as much an overreaction as the boom.14 Startups are undergoing the same transformation that technology does when it becomes cheaper.15 Another way to fly low is to give them something for free that competitors charge for. After all, a Web 2.16 He bought a suit.

Instead you'll be compelled to seek growth in other ways. They all knew their work like a piano player knows the keys. But consulting is far from free money. They say they're going to get eliminated. What does it mean, exactly? If investors were perfect judges, the two would require exactly the same skills. And to be both good and novel, an idea probably has to seem bad to most people, or someone writes a particularly interesting article, it will show up there. The mere existence of prep schools is proof of that.17 So far the complete list of messages I've picked up from cities is: wealth, style, hipness, physical attractiveness wouldn't have been a total immersion. Don't just do what they tell you to do. But advancing technology has made web startups so cheap that you really can get a portrait of the normal distribution of most applicant pools, it matters least to judge accurately in precisely the cases where judgement has the most effect—you won't take rejection so personally. If raising money is hard.

There is no sharp line between the two types of startup ideas: those that grow organically out of your own life, and those that you decide, from afar, are going to get rarer. While some VCs have technical backgrounds, I don't know enough to say, but it happens surprisingly rarely.18 Most subjects are taught in such a boring way that it's only by discipline that you can never safely treat fundraising as more than a startup that seems like it's going to stop.19 It sounds obvious to say that you should worry? One reason startups prefer series A rounds? When I was in high school either. If you feel you've been misjudged, you can do. Google. Of course, someone has to take money from people who are young but smart and driven can make more by starting their own companies after college instead of getting jobs, that will change what happens in college.

Notes

Though they are themselves typical users. But it takes to get good grades in them to private schools that in three months, a valuation. Giving away the razor and making more per customer makes it easier to get them to stay in a time machine.

Apple's early history are from an angel investment from a mediocre VC.

In the beginning.

Plus ca change. But on the other.

And that is exactly the point of a stock is its future earnings, you now get to go behind the scenes role in IPOs, which allowed banks and savings and loans to buy it despite having no evidence it's for sale.

However, it will seem dumb in 100 years. Digg is Slashdot with voting instead of blacklist.

Sofbot.

I write out loud can expose awkward parts.

I've become a so-called signalling risk.

Hint: the way they have because they couldn't afford a monitor.

And it's particularly damaging when these investors flake, because there was a new search engine is low. They have no connections, you'll find that with a wink, to take care of one's markets is ultimately just another way in which income is doled out by Mitch Kapor, is to raise money after Demo Day, there would be easy to discount, but I'm not against editing. As one very successful YC founder told me they like the one hand and the exercise of stock options than any preceding president, he tried to shift back. At three months we can't believe anyone would think twice before crossing him.

Progressive tax rates has a significant startup hub. He, like speculators, that alone could in principle 100,000 sestertii apiece for slaves learned in the early adopters you evolve the idea is crack. As we walked in, we love big juicy lumbar disc herniation as juicy except literally.

It's sometimes argued that we didn't, they thought at least accepted additions to the modern idea were proposed by Timothy Hart in 1964, two years, it was cooked up by the National Center for Education Statistics, about 28%. I've come to accept that investors don't like the bizarre consequences of this essay talks about programmers, but I know of no Jews moving there, and should in some ways First Round excluded their most successful startups are competitive like running, not the original text would in itself deserving. This is not whether it's good enough at obscuring tokens for this type are also several you can't even claim, like play in a city with few other startups, because time seems to pass. Please do not try to avoid that.

This kind of people starting normal companies too. If Ron Conway had been raised religious and then using growth rate to manufacture a perfect growth curve, etc, and then a block or so.

But it is to trick admissions officers. I meant. The mere possibility of being harsh to founders. As he is at fault, since 95% of the class of 2007 came from such schools.

I started doing research for this purpose are still, as they are now. There was no more unlikely than it would be easier to say that it is dishonest of the next round, that suits took over during a critical point in the usual standards for truth. Wittgenstein: The French Laundry in Napa Valley.

It wouldn't cut their overall returns tenfold, because they wanted, so the best ideas, they mean statistical distribution. The original Internet forums were not web sites but Usenet newsgroups.

A doctor friend warns that even this can give an inaccurate picture. At some point, when the problems you have no idea what's happening till they also influence one another directly through the window for years while they think they're just mentioning the possibility is that in Silicon Valley. I find hardest to get rich by creating wealth—wealth that, isn't it? Look at those goddamn fleas, they have less money, the big winners aren't all that matters, just as if you'd invested at a famous university who is highly regarded by his peers.

Compromising a server could cause such damage that ASPs that want to pound that message home. He, like arithmetic drills, instead of blacklist.

Thanks to Tim O'Reilly, Peter Norvig, and the guys at O'Reilly for inviting me to speak.

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voguekingdom-blog1 · 4 years

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winterisakillerwrites · 4 years

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Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Two

Chapter: 2/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: M

Author’s Notes/Warnings: This is part nine of Last Minutes & Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for listening to me ramble incessantly about this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

CHAPTER TWO

“So, how was it?” Jules fired as Rosemary pushed her way into Stories Untold the next morning.

She shot the tall redhead a glare which softened upon seeing the mug of coffee that had been thrust in her direction. She grabbed it and took a grateful sip. Caffeine, she mused. Heaven.

Seeing Rosemary’s shoulders relax, Jules plowed onward. “Details. I need details. Did you have fun? How much did we raise? Did you talk to anyone famous?” Her eyes had taken on the manic gleam that Rosemary customarily saw only during the run up to a major holiday sales run or anticipated date nights. There was little that could be done to soften the fervor, but it might be postponed…

Rosemary threw her free hand up in plaintive surrender. “One question at a time, Jules, please. My blood caffeine level is not up to your rapid fire demands just yet. Take pity on me.”

A sigh was Jules only answer and Rosemary took the welcome reprieve as a chance to finish her coffee and actually place her belongings in the office. And once her coffee had been finished and her purse and coat secured, she’d surrendered wholly to Jules’ excited frenzy.

Yes, it had been a rather nice time. And yes, she had in fact rubbed elbows with more than a few well knowns. Jules had been particularly interested in her chat with Colin Firth. And yes, they’d managed to raise a great deal more readies than either of them had anticipated. Jules beamed, demanding as many details as Rosemary could remember. She’d indulged as best she could while they filled the register and readied the store for opening.

Rosemary did not, however, once mention her encounter with Tom. While Jules had cooled in her dislike over the years, Rosemary hadn’t felt the need to rock the boat. Besides, the chances of another run in were slight. They, after all, had managed to avoid one another over the last three years; bringing up him at this juncture would be foolish.

The sales through lunch were stronger than she’d expected. And once Evan had come in, Rosemary had retired to the back to wage war on the seemingly never-ending paperwork in the back office. Orders in particular had become her pet project of the week. She’d managed to get a quarter of the way through the next months’ proposed work up for both stores when distraction reared its head.

“Have you seen the pictures?” Jules voice carried from the hallway. “From the gala?”

Rosemary looked at Jules with momentary confusion. “Pictures?” Then sense came flooding back. Charity event. Photographers. Of course there had been pictures. “God, sorry. Still not firing on all cylinders. I take it I’m in some?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Academically, she’d known it was a possibility but hadn’t really taken the time to think it through.

Jules cocked an eyebrow. “Not a lot.” She paused to fish something from her pocket. “Though I must say, I am practically green with envy over this one with you and Colin Firth.” She held up her phone and flashed said photograph.

Rosemary grabbed the phone and studied the shot briefly before handing it back. “Huh. Not too shabby.” It was a nice photograph. She’d looked remarkably put together and not at all discomposed; a feat indeed considering who she’d been standing next to. He was Mr. Darcy after all. With a shake of her head she returned her attention to the latest order sheet.

Jules, however, remained in the doorway in silence for several moments. Rosemary could feel her eyes burning into the back of her head. “Yes?”

“Tom was there.” It was a statement, not a question.

Rosemary sighed. “Yes, he was. We bumped into each other before the auction.”

“And you didn’t see fit to mention this because…”

“It wasn’t anything major. We saw each other, made small talk. What else was I supposed to do? Avoiding him or flat out refusing to speak to him would create more questions than it was worth. Besides it’s been three years. It’s water under the bridge.”

Jules looked less than convinced. “You are in a few. With him.”

“Oh?” She hoped her tone did not belie the disconcerting feeling that flooded through her. “He was at my table for a spell. We chatted. I guess it was bound to happen.”

“Rose…”

She sighed and dropped the papers still in her hand onto the desk “Jules, honey, I’m fine. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I had feared it would be. We were both adults and handled ourselves accordingly. No harm, no foul.”

Jules narrowed her eyes but did not utter a word.

Rosemary shook her head, “I know what you’re thinking, but really I’m okay. I moved on, we both have. He’s not a horrible person, he never was. We just don’t work. And that’s okay.”

“I know, Rose. I know. I just…You know what, never mind.” She shook her head and relaxed her shoulders. “I’m going to head back out there and make sure Evan’s not being eaten alive.” She smiled.

Rosemary shook her head, laughing as well. “Don’t bother; a little chaos is good for him. Builds character.”

“I’ll just let him know you said that. I’m sure it’ll be a comfort as he nurses his wounds.”

She laughed in earnest and shifted her attention back to the waiting forms. “He’ll deal.”

___

“Can you move that display about a foot and a half to the left?” With a good natured groan Max, the newest edition to the Stories Untold family, shifted the display, again. Rosemary studied it critically and then smiled. “Perfect.”

The newest Stories location had been officially open for a week and, save for a few minor hiccups, had been running smoothly. Sales looked promising and foot traffic was slow but steady. And while Jules’ reports showed that the main store was holding its own, Rosemary still felt the familiar flutter of unease.

It was silly, she knew, and most days she could pay it rather little mind. This would be her first major change to the business she’d loved and cherished fiercely since she’d taken sole ownership seven years prior. She wanted this to succeed; wanted it desperately.

“You sure? Like completely, 100%, can’t be any surer, sure?” Max raised his sandy eyebrow which pulled a hearty laugh from everyone in the room and a quirked eyebrow from Rosemary.

“Watch your cheek, young man.” The laughter in her eyes belied her stern tone. She shook her head and sighed. “Yes. I’m sure. Now, back to the stock room with you; those boxes aren’t going to stock themselves.” Max grumbled good-naturedly as he lumbered off to complete his assigned task.

Rosemary sighed and turned her attention back to the front counter. “Alright people, let’s get back to work. We’ve got ten minutes before we open.”

A controlled melee erupted around her; Hanna, the store’s assistant manager, flew to the register, and finished loading the till. Alex and Gabe, stocking and general floor help, ran around the main sales floor making sure everything was settled and ready for the start of business. Rosemary smiled at the chaos.

Yeah, she thought, this will definitely be a challenge.

____

“Excuse me, do you know if you’ve got the new Carter novel in?”

Rosemary turned, setting the box she’d been carrying onto the counter. She smiled at the woman standing before her. “Let me check.” A few quick taps on the tablet sitting by the registers later and Rosemary nodded. “Yes we do. It will be just here.” She motioned for the woman to follow her.

Book obtained, the woman thanked Rosemary profusely, quickly paid for her purchase, and hurried from the store, leaving the jangle of the door chime in her wake. Rosemary turned her attention back to the box she’d sat on the counter. With any luck it should be the business cards and other various promotional materials they’d been due a week and a half ago.

Box cutter in hand, Rosemary had seen but not registered the figure that had entered the store and now stood near the counter.

“We seem to have a habit of meeting like this,” a familiar, warm voice chuckled. Startled, Rosemary dropped the box cutter and snapped her gaze up. Tom stood, a small but genuine smile lighting his features. “Hello.”

Rosemary blinked at him for several moments before remembering herself and returning his greeting. “Hi.” She let out a small, nervous laugh and quickly collected herself once more. “You, good sir, seem to have a habit of scaring years off my lifespan.”

Tom held his hands up in apology. “As always, that was never my intent.”

“So, Mr. Hiddleston, what brings you in today?” Professional, she told herself, I just need to keep myself professional and I can keep my head.

It was his turn to chuckle nervously, “You,” he answered with a smile, “Actually.”

Rosemary was taken aback but fought to hide it. “Oh? And you knew I’d be here because?”

Tom laughed in earnest. “The store has always been your baby. There isn’t a chance in hell that you’d not be here for the newest launch.”

Rosemary nodded slowly and rested her hands on the counter. “That still doesn’t really clear anything up.” She watched Tom blink in confusion and stamped down the small part of her heart that fluttered stubbornly in her chest.

She watched Tom rub the back of his neck with his left hand. “I saw the sign for the shop a few weeks back and was intrigued,” he started, eyes rising to hers. “I had been debating on whether it was a good idea for me to come after it opened when I ran into you at the gala.” His face flushed slightly. “After that I knew that I had to at least see…” He paused again and seeming to come to a decision, carried on. “I just…I missed you.”

Rosemary didn’t bother to hide the shock and confusion that flooded over her. “You missed me?” She parroted back, trying to understand. “It’s been three years, Tom. Why now?”

Tom nodded. “I know you asked me to stay away. And I understand why. I did my utmost best to respect that. But, yes, I have missed you. And seeing you again…it solidified that for me.”

A thousand questions ricocheted through her mind. With great effort she settle on, “What do you want, Tom?”

He smiled softly, “To be able to talk with you again. To call you when I’ve had a shit day or a great one or when I just want to hear your voice. There’s this saying, I guess you’d call it, that I heard recently and it struck me.” He paused, watching her face. “It pretty much goes that you have no idea how much you miss someone until something happens, good or ill, and the only person you want to tell is the one who’s not there. And it’s true. I want you in my life Rosemary, in whatever capacity you are comfortable with.” His eyes were clear and cautiously hopeful.

She stared at him in stunned disbelief. It was tempting, so very tempting. “Tom…”

He nodded and offered a small, knowing smile of understanding. “I’m not asking for an answer now. But can you get promise me to think about it?”

Rosemary hesitated, her eyes lowering to the counter. Could she do this? Should she? And if she didn’t would she honestly be okay with it? With a sigh, she nodded. “I can do that.” She paused, pulling a length of receipt tape from the cash register. In a quick, neat hand she wrote her number and handed it to Tom before she allowed herself to think better of it. His brows rose in confusion. “My number,” she clarified. If he could be bold, so could she.

He smiled, tucking the number safely in his pocket. “Is it okay if I call you this week? Maybe we could meet for coffee or lunch?”

Rosemary nodded. “I’d like that.”

___

It took everything Rosemary had to keep herself from jumping each time the phone rang. She felt utterly ridiculous the way her heart would leap into her throat at the sound only to settle in disappointment when the name on the screen wasn’t his. Pathetic, she chided herself. You are completely, ridiculously pathetic.

Tom had promised to call but that had been nearly two weeks prior. A few days she could easily excuse. He was a busy man and time had a funny way of slipping away when you were busy. Maybe a week, given the right circumstances. But two weeks and nothing, not even a text? She was an idiot for even considering letting him back into her life. But that didn’t stop her from wishing he would call. That he would reach out. Something.

Disgusted with both herself and the situation, she tossed her phone onto the coffee table and forced herself to focus on something, anything else. The knock at her door forced her heart heavily into her throat.

“Sweet lord,” she murmured to herself, hand clutches tightly to her chest. With a laugh at her own skittishness, she pushed herself up from the couch and to the front door.

The first thing she registered was the large bottle of wine clutched tightly in a well-manicured hand. “Wha…” she started. It took all of thirty seconds for her brain to register the smiling face behind the bottle. “Jules?”

Jules rolled her eyes and pushed past Rosemary into the flat, shedding her coat as she went. “You’ve forgotten our standing date. I’m crushed.”

Realization dawned. “It’s Thursday!” She shouted, feeling like a fool. “God, where is my head?”

Jules snorted in laughter. “Obviously not attached. So…seeing as you completely forgot I was coming I doubt you’ve got food ready.”

Hissing a curse, Rosemary shook her head. “Chinese?” She offered helpfully.

“I guess that’ll do.” Jules wandered into the kitchen behind Rosemary, grabbing two wine glasses. Armed with both a menu and a corkscrew, Rosemary ushered her friend back into the living room.

“General Tso’s?” She asked, grabbing her phone from the table.

Jules nodded her assent and busied herself opening the wine bottle. Order placed, Rosemary took the offered wine glass and sipped gratefully.

“So…Movie?”

Jules smirked and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, switching on the flat screen television and cueing up Netflix. “Romantic comedy?”

Rosemary groaned and settled further into the couch. “Only if it’s a truly terrible one and we take the piss out of it.”

A grin lit up Jules’ warm face. “One cheesy romantic comedy coming up.”

___

The movie they settled on was truly terrible but the wine and running commentary made it almost bearable. “I cannot believe someone got paid to write this drivel,” Rosemary moaned as she picked through her sweet and sour pork. “I mean seriously, we are in the wrong line of work.”

Jules lifted her glass. “Here, here!”

Both women dissolved into fits of giggles. “You spill wine on my couch, young lady, and you’ll be sorry,” Rosemary admonished, placing her own glass onto the coffee table. Another round of giggles erupted between them.

It took Rosemary several moments to register the ringing she assumed was coming from the television was in fact coming her phone that she’d left lying on the side table. She clumsily grabbed for the phone, hoping whoever was on the other end had patience. She glanced at the phone, it was number she did not recognize. “Hello?”

“Rosie?”

The voice was familiar, Rosemary knew that she knew it but still she could not place it. “Yes…?”

“Rosie, its Tom…Are you drunk?” There was amusement in his tone.

She giggled. “Maybe...” Rosemary squinted, trying to think. Tom? Tom…Oh yes, Tom. I know Tom! “Tom!” she squealed into the phone, earning a glare from Jules. “Wait…” Her voice trailed off. There was something she was forgetting. “You said you’d call two weeks ago! You lied!”

A sigh, “I know, I’m sorry.”

“S’not good enough,” Rosemary protested. “You say you want to be part of my life and then disappear. That’s not acceptable.” From the corner of her eye she could see Jules’ eyebrow rise in increments. She held up her hand and waved it dismissively in her direction. She could not handle two simultaneous conversations at this point.

“I know it’s not, Rosie. And if you can meet me for lunch tomorrow I can try to explain.”

Rosemary creased her forehead in confusion. “Why can’t you explain now?”

Tom sighed and she could hear shuffling on the other end of the line. “I could but something tells me that it would be lost on you at this point.”

“Are you saying you think I can’t keep up?” Now she was indignant.

“No, well yes. Rosie, you are slurring your words something fierce…”

She shook her head, temporarily forgetting that he could not see her. “It’s not that bad. Just tell me Tom. Cause if you don’t I’m just going to assume the worst…” and it wasn’t a completely idle threat.

“Work, Rose. I got called back for an insane amount of reshoots and I could barely keep myself straight let alone other people.”

She snorted a laugh of derision. “And you couldn’t text me something to that effect because?”

“I’m a shit person and got caught up in my own damn head. I’m sorry. I truly am. I should have called or at least texted. It’s just the more time that passed the harder it was to try to justify.” He was nearly tripping over his words now.

In her inebriated state she could just barely keep up. Damn him. “Tom, I think you’re right. I don’t think I’m up for this kind of conversation right now.”

“Okay.” Tom paused and was silent for several moments. “Could we…I mean. Would you be able to meet me tomorrow for lunch or maybe dinner? To talk?”

“Lunch,” Rosemary replied automatically. Dinner was decidedly not a good idea. Far too intimate for whatever is was they currently were.

“Is Italian okay? I know a nice little café that does a fantastic lunch.”

She gave her assent and quickly ended the call. The phone chimed moments later with the text Tom had promised of the location and time. She could feel Jules’s eyes on her but did not dare look over. She instead held up her hand in exasperation. “I know. But we are far too drunk for this kind of conversation…”

“Nope. Not gonna happen, Rose, darling. Drunk is exactly how this kind of conversation needs to happen. So talk,” Jules ordered pouring more wine into each glass.

Rosemary took the proffered glass and drank deeply, knowing she’d regret all of this come morning. “Fine,” she uttered. “Do your worst.”

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston RPF #Tom Hiddleston x oc #Tom Hiddleston x ofc #Tom Hiddleston x original character #Tom Hiddleston x original female character #Tom & Rosie #Love & Great Buildings

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anotheruserwithnoname · 5 years

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Why actual book, DVD and record stores are still important

Yes, of course online is the “way of the future” and is certainly convenient (as I look out my window at the big snow dump we got overnight). And if “brick and mortar” stores won’t or (as is more often the case) can’t stock an item you want to buy, what other option is there?

Yet, at the same time, there is something about on-the-ground retail that just cannot be replaced by online. And that is joy of discovery.

Going on Amazon or wherever is fantastic - if you know what you are looking for. Want the new Lana Del Rey album that you’ve heard about, call up her name. Endgame out on DVD and you don’t want to walk down the street to your Wal-Mart to get a copy (or your nearest Wal-Mart is 25 miles away)? You’re set.

But just yesterday I proved that we still need traditional retail. And while this refers to a CD, you can easily substitute books, DVDs, clothes, even gadgets. I was in Sunrise Records, the chain that white-knighted music and DVD retail in Canada when they took over most of HMV Canada’s locations when they went out of business a couple years back. I was just randomly looking at their new releases when I spotted this:

This is a 70-minute audio drama (Big Finish-style) made by a label called Bleak December as a tribute to the classic 1970s Canadian kid’s show Hilarious House of Frightenstein. That was the one that ended each episode with Vincent Price reading spooky poetry and featured Billy Van playing not only a Dracula spoof but a Wolf Man and multiple other characters. They even incorporated genuine science lessons by importing a Bill Nye-type fellow from the US to do “mad scientist” segments that were based on real math and science. Malcolm McDowell (yes, that Malcolm McDowell) takes over Vincent’s role for this production and they even managed to get one of the original cast members to reprise his role as Super Hippy.

It would never have occurred to me in 100 years to think of looking up “Return to Frightenstein” on Amazon. This production has had no publicity and it’s based on a show that is, yes, a cult classic, but it’s also quite obscure. For my friends in the UK, imagine if someone decided to put out a one-off audio drama based on, say, Supergran. Or, for the US, someone thought 45 years later would be a good time to do a radio play reviving Far Out Space Nuts.

Yet, because I happened to physically find myself in front of a new releases rack at Sunrise Records yesterday - I saw this CD for sale. And I think it’s one of the coolest things I’ve seen in a long time! And I’d never have found out about it (or, if I had, it might have not happened till after it entered “collectable” status and the price shot well up from the current $8.99) if it hadn’t been for a brick and mortar store. This is just the latest example. I’d say a good third of the books, CDs and DVDs I own are due to “discovery” rather than me going out specifically to look for them.

So, yes, online has a place. A big place. But I know of people who almost literally turn their noses up at the idea of (gasp!) physically setting foot in a place like Sunrise because they think downloading or Amazon-ing are the only worthwhile options. But they could be missing out on their own Return to Frightensteins by not taking a chance.

#hilarious house of frightenstein #malcolm mcdowell #audio dramas #brick and mortar retail #sunrise records

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bigyack-com · 5 years

Text

When Department Stores Were Theater

After the hundreds of jobs going poof and the thus-far inadequate discounts, the saddest thing about the closure of Barneys New York is that its signature naughty window displays will recede even further in collective memory.A Hail Mary campaign earlier this year imploring shoppers to go inside even as the store declared bankruptcy (“STRUT STRUT STRUT STRUT STRUT STRUT”) was but a faint echo of the era when subversive tableaus of papier-mâché public figures, found objects, condoms on Christmas trees and the occasional scampering vermin mesmerized crowds, offended cardinals and even sold some clothes.But “we’re in a post-window-display world,” said Simon Doonan, the Barneys O.G. window dresser, in a telephone interview, noting the “impenetrable facade” of Dover Street Market, heir apparent to the luxury avant-garde. Its New York entrance has only small, high apertures above pedestrian eye level.“In the old days, window displays were the primary form of marketing — fashion was the same as butcher shops and fishmongers,” he said. “Now, if you’re waiting till someone walks past your store, you’ve lost the fight.”Indeed, the bustling new Nordstrom on 57th Street dispenses with traditional boxed-in display windows entirely, replacing them with a shallow, wavy facade that John Bailey, a spokesman, assured would be festooned with red and white lights come Black Friday. The facade is “an interactive viewing experience for customers walking by,” he wrote in an email, “connecting the shopping experience in store to the energy of the city.” (And the energy of customers’ phones.) A young employee at the central help desk said elliptically that “our windows are our customer service.”Gather ’round, children, and let Auntie Alexandra tell of when department stores, now mostly glassy, anodyne places you go to exchange online purchases, used to put on a show. Sometimes more entertaining than the theater.First, though, a quick gallop through what remains of New York’s holiday windows in 2019, and the hopeful cornucopias within.At the doomed Barneys flagship on 61st Street, there was of course bubkes, just signs reading: “Everything Must Be Sold! Goodbuys, then Goodbye.” Inside on the fifth floor, female customers were listlessly flipping shoes to glance at the soles and calculate the markdown, as if with muscle memory from the much-lamented warehouse sale. Four creaky flights up, the power lunch spot Fred’s, named for Fred Pressman, Barneys’ charismatic chairman who died in 1996, was full — even as a worker held a headless naked mannequin steady by her neck on a hand truck, waiting for the elevator to go down, down, down.A few blocks away preens Bergdorf Goodman, the beautiful princess whose holding company, Neiman Marcus, muscled recently into the Hudson Yards, like a watchful mother-in-law moving into the guest cottage. There are no old-school windows at the gleaming new Neiman, being that it’s high up off the dirty street in a mall (and incidentally charging kids $72 per head for breakfast with Santa). But at Bergdorf, David Hoey, the store’s senior director of visual presentation, and his team have gamely produced a concept called Bergdorf GoodTimes. Literally gamely. Like, filled with actual games.One window was captioned “Queen’s Gambit” (chess); another, “Jackpot!” (pinball); another, “Winner Take All” (casino — perhaps a dry subconscious commentary on the high-stakes state of retail). Around the corner, a life-size board game, “Up the Down Escalator,” was dotted with fictional gift cards, coin of the online-shopping realm.Mr. Hoey’s sophisticated, colorful creations did not seem intended for little ones — and anyway those were scampering around across the street, splashing in small pools and peering into mirror-glass “sky lenses” outside the Fifth Avenue Apple store. Paging Dr. Lacan!Further east on 59th and Lexington Avenue, dear old Bloomingdale’s was flagrantly violating several of the decorative precepts set out by Mr. Doonan in his seminal 1998 book, “Confessions of a Window Dresser: Tales From a Life in Fashion.” Specifically: “do remember that technology is boring” and “don’t incorporate sex.”If Bergdorf is rolling the dice on the future of the department store — eroded perhaps irrevocably by Amazon’s mighty, corrosive flow — Bloomie’s is searching the stars. Not the celebrities whose daffy effigies used to populate Mr. Doonan’s windows, mostly with enthusiastic cooperation (Madonna, Magic Johnson, Norman Mailer, Prince, Queen Elizabeth), but a lavish commingling of astronomy and astrology titled Out of This World.Robots were placing ornaments on a tree and sitting at a synthesizer ready to play the carol of your choice at the push of a button. Google Nest, a sponsor, was poised to turn on the tree, the lights; the fire. And astronauts were floating in a “3, 2, 1, Gift Off,” or was it a “GIF Off?” Female mannequins embodying various figures of the zodiac were outfitted like go-go dancers, all pearls and feathers and curvature: propped up against each other on a pedestal as a recording played of John Legend singing, incongruously, “Christmas in New Orleans.” Inside, on the main floor, one embodying Cancer the Crab hung upside down from the ceiling: eyes closed, suspended over a hoop, hand-claws splayed, rotating slowly. Her bared, inverted legs conjured less the #MeToo era than the infamous “meat grinder” photo of the June 1978 Hustler magazine that feminists used to protest on Manhattan sidewalks.

Razzle-Dazzle in the Mezzanine

Mr. Doonan had called from Los Angeles, where he was, among other activities, promoting a monograph to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Maxfield, the boutique there. This even though when he was in the window-dressing business, “I was very anti-anniversary and I vetoed all of them. They just made the company seem old and boring. It looks dusty.”Though I agree 100 percent and moreover think the ascription of significance to particular numbers is as ridiculous as astrology, it also happens to be the 40th anniversary of a seismic and undersung event in department-store history: when the performer Elaine Stritch was the M.C. of an elaborate fashion show at Liberty of London, the emporium known for its fine fabrics. (Many women in those years still sewed household clothes from patterns.)Arranged by Peter Tear, then Liberty’s head of marketing and publicity, and choreographed by Larry Fuller of “Evita,” the show somehow managed to cross-promote the low-tar Silk Cut cigarette with a silk congress happening in London. Concordes were deployed with top models on board. Cocktails were concocted by the Café Royal down the road. Fifty-odd designers contributed special outfits for the occasion, including Giorgio Armani, Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren and Yves Saint Laurent.Another was David Emanuel, who, with his wife and partner, Elizabeth, would design the show’s bridal gown (and later Princess Diana’s).“People gasped,” he said, remembering the Liberty event on a crackly trans-Atlantic phone line. “They were aching for ‘larger than life.’” Mr. Emanuel described Stritch — subject of my recently published biography, “Still Here” (hey, it’s the selling season) — in a sequined tuxedo jacket, singing among other numbers “Falling in Love Again” à la Marlene Dietrich to the enraptured ladies who lunch who had paid five quid admission apiece for the show, which ran thrice daily over the course of a week. “It has more punch and pulchritude packed into its 51 minutes than most West End musicals twice as long,” one newspaper commented.Mr. Doonan theorized that Liberty, fighting a dainty, twin-set image, had taken inspiration from what the storied retailer Marvin Traub was doing then at Bloomingdale’s. “The whole thing was that the store was the stage — the razzle-dazzle of flash and pizazz and lo and behold, there’s a swimwear fashion show with Pat Cleveland coming down the escalator,” he said. “Every day was ‘curtain up!’ at Bloomingdale’s.”Truly, what could be more of an ultimate fantasy set than the department store of yore, with its infinite “costumes,” props and built-in risers, its endless potential for comedy, dance, drama and even horror? Florenz Ziegfeld’s pre-code movie “Glorifying the American Girl,” showcasing his Follies, starts in one. The heroic airman in “The Best Years of Our Lives” returned to work as a soda jerk in another; ennobled by the theater of war, he chafed at his diminishment in the feminine one of trade.Barbra Streisand gamboled through Bergdorf in 1965 for her TV special, trying on fur coats and hats, spritzing perfume and singing a Fanny Brice-ish medley of “Second Hand Rose” and “Brother Can You Spare a Dime” to funny and glamorous effect. James Goldman and Stephen Sondheim’s “Twilight Zone”-inflected broadcast musical, “Evening Primrose,” was set in a department store called Stern’s, and featured a poet played by Anthony Perkins remaining after-hours, giddy at the idea of the creativity that his solitude, enhanced by all the products he needs, will stimulate. At one point he stands on an escalator belting, “I’m here! I’m here!” foreshadowing the famous anthem in Goldman and Sondheim’s own “Follies” taken up late in life by Stritch. (Later a young woman he discovers there sings of remembering snow: “Soft as feathers/ Sharp as thumbtacks.” She had been left there, in Hats, as a child by her preoccupied mother, but now with climate change the lyric sounds like prescient ecological lament.)Even after the fiasco of Andrew McCarthy at Philadelphia’s Wanamaker’s (R.I.P.) in “Mannequin” 20 years later, and the slow creep of the suburban mall, there was yet another remake of “Miracle on 34th Street.”“Where did Auntie Mame go when she lost all her money?” Mr. Doonan reminded. “Selling roller skates at Macy’s.”It’s hard to imagine, though not impossible, that department stores will remain important sites of commerce and culture much longer. But the largest one in the city is not about to go quietly. At Macy’s, which takes up an entire block, there is a jumble of every sort of window.There are old-fashioned windows devoted to the story of Virginia O’Hanlon, the little girl who wrote to The New York Sun in 1897 asking if there was still a Santa Claus. Around the corner, there are high-tech windows giving voice to a little girl who wants to be Santa Claus. And around another corner: still other windows filled simply with giant Barbies. Being female in the early 21st century is nothing if not a series of mixed messages, but this attempt to empower seemed already antiquated; if Mr. Doonan were still working on windows, surely he would have gone straight for Mx. Claus?The ghost of Barneys yet to come is at Saks Fifth Avenue, which has licensed its former rival’s name, and where windows have been themed with glittering corporate efficiency to the international blockbuster “Frozen 2.” This may delight the tourists, but city dwellers remembering the craft and chance and silliness of the old holiday extravaganzas — when the designers and the famous people and the window dressers were all sticking pins in each other, and the audiences crowded four-deep on the pavement for the free sideshow — will probably be left cold. Source link Read the full article

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runenc03 · 5 years

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Superstar (pt. 1)

Writing date: October 2018

Genre: fluff

Warnings: absolutely none :)

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Dear Sister,

First of all: I'm so incredibly sorry that I couldn't be with you on your real birthday...I tried to cancel this, I really did, but I couldn't anymore. I'll make it up to you when I get home, I promise. Actually, I'll make this a really long letter, so I can already make it up to you. Just a tiny bit.

You must be wondering why this letter is attached to a present, even though you know I hate not being there when someone opens my present for them.

Let me explain.

You've undoubtedly already opened my present, you're way too nosy not to, I know you, Kaycee. And if I'm not mistaken, you're thinking something along the lines of 'why is Kylie giving me a Gramophone?'

It's kind of a long story, really.

It all started at the beginning of this year. You were at the Main Event, and mum decided that she and I needed some mother-daughter time. So, we went shopping. We had a good time, really, until it began raining.

And by raining, I mean pouring.

Since mum's car was parked so far away, we couldn't do anything but run to the closest store.

Which was a really cosy, vintage thrift store.

I normally don't go to those, but since it was still pouring outside, mum and I figured that we might as well take a look.

While I was walking in that little store, my mind wandered to you. I know that sounds a little dramatic, but it's the truth. You were off on your own, to another state, and I know that there were enough adults there and if that wasn't enough, Sean would protect you with his life if something would happen, but still I couldn't shake this feeling that you were growing up so fast. And then my thoughts shifted to your birthday. Your 16th birthday.

And I know this sounds too good to be true, but I'm 100 percent serious:

I saw a Gramophone.

And then it clicked. I would buy it for you.

I know it's still kind of strange of me to suddenly buy you a Gramophone, but there's a certain logic behind it. A Gramophone means music in a special way. And I guess I never saw this before, but it's such a perfect gift for you! You love music and you're really unique yourself, so I figured this'd be the ideal 16th birthday present.

And then I realised that I couldn't be there with you on your special day, and let me tell you, that made me feel incredibly guilty. So I came up with a little game, that'd keep you busy until I'd be with you to celebrate (not that you wouldn't celebrate it with mum and dad and Sean and all your friends, I just wanted to make a statement, you know?)

The Gramophone is only the first gift. In the months after I bought it, I wandered through a lot more thrift shops, kept my eyes open, and even went to some garage sales. All for one thing: finding you the perfect old records.

And it worked. I found a bunch of records that fit you perfectly.

And then I decided to make a little game out of this whole Gramophone thing.

Every record is carefully chosen, Kaycee, because every single one represents your bond with someone you're close to. I talked with those people about their feelings for you, your feelings for them, and, not to brag, but I think it turned out even better than I thought it would.

So, as I already said, we're making a game out of this.

I challenge you to figure out which record belongs to which person in your life. If you guess all of them correctly, you get your real birthday present. If not, well, I guess you'll have to wait until your 17th birthday.

Lots of love and again, happy birthday to the best little sister in the whole wide world!!

Kylie x

Kaycee laid the letter beside her and slowly let her fingers trace the Gramophone. She loved it. She absolutely, thoroughly, completely loved it. When she opened kylie's letter for the first time a few days ago, she immediately wanted to annalyze every single one of those records. It was only when her mum pointed out that it'd be a better idea to wait till she was alone, that she'd changed her mind. Her mum was right. It'd be much nicer to be alone when she would do this. No-one needed to hear those records. Knowing Kylie, they'd probably be very emotional and -most of all- personal.

So she'd waited. But that didn't mean she didn't anticipate the moment that she'd finally be able to put the first record on the Gramophone. Ever since her birthday a few days ago, she'd been beyond impatient.

But today, she was finally alone.

She opened the box in which the records were stored. One of them immediately caught her attention. It's cover was brightly colored in blue, red and yellow, and the word 'superstar' was written in the middle.

Only now did Kaycee see that there was a post it stuck to the corner of the record.

If you take the letters of what you guys are (officially) minus the n and then the first and last letter of your nickname for him/her, you should get the word superstar. Enjoy x

So Kylie had given her tips. Interesting.

Her curiosity got the better of her. She had to know what 'superstar' was about. With almost trembling hands, she took the record out of it's cover, placed it on the Gramophone and carefully put the needle down on the record.

It started just like a movie,

He was the leading man

I told my friends it was nothing

This was never in my plans

Okay, so superstar was about a male figure in her life. And the song was sung by a girl, which meant this was how she thought about the man?

And now he's writing songs about me,

sending letters to me,

stopping by to see my face

Well, there was this one person who wrote her the longest and most beautiful letters, especially with her birthday. And he seemed to be more in her house than in his own...could it be?

I see you in my dreams now

They're telling me to slow down

But we're just picking up the pace

Slow down? And who are they? Kylie surely didn't make this easy.

I got you where I want you

There's nothing left now in my way

And lately all I wanna do

Is hear all of the crazy things you say

Okay. Kaycee wasn't entirely sure about it, but she had a suspicion that this song was about Sean. She remembered a conversation with Kylie from a few months ago. Her sister had insisted that Sean only had to say something, and she'd do it. Of course Kaycee'd said that that was complete nonsense. But then her sister had come with quite the strong argument. She still remembered it vividly...

"Nonsense, huh? He asks you out of the blue for world of dance, you say yes. He mentions that your curly hair is beautiful and tada! You don't straighten it anymore!!"

She really hadn't known what to reply to that, and her sister had left her room with a smug grin on her face.

And now we'll always be together,

you and me forever,

never wanna lose you, babe

Oh. So this was a love song. She almost litteraly facepalmed. Why hadn't she seen this coming? She'd been so focused on figuring out who the song was about, that she hadn't paid attention to who the male in the song was to her.

She should've seen this one coming. Kylie was always teasing her about Sean, constantly pushing her buttons, trying to get her to admit that maybe, just maybe, she had this tiny crush on Sean. But Kaycee didn't have time to give it much thought, 'cause the song still continued.

'Cause you're my superstar now,

I'm never gonna let you get away

Ahh, there was that word again. Superstar. Was Sean her superstar? The thought alone made her blush.

Days rushing by like a river

Now I'm your woman, you're my man

And we're only getting closer

This was never in my plans

Scratch what she thought before. That blush was nothing compared to the one that colored her cheeks right now. His woman? The thoughts that swirled around in her head in that moment...what would it be like, being his? And Sean being hers? She had to admit that it sounded really appealing...

And now he's singing songs about me,

hanging with my family

painting pictures of my face

If she wasn't sure before, she was now. This fit Sean perfectly. She knew that he was busy with making an album. He hadn't told it to his fans, because he wanted it to be a surprise, but he had showed Kaycee some of his songs. She'd asked Sean, while reading a particularly romantic song, who it was about. He'd sheekily answered her with: "a gorgeous girl with sparkling brown eyes, curly hair and a smile that makes rainbows...you know her?"

She'd rolled her eyes, but hadn't been able to help the blush that had crept upon her cheeks.

The problem was that he was always so over-the-top when it came to flirting. Kaycee simply didn't know if she could take it serious or not. So she always stayed silent, the only evidence that she'd heard him being her constant blushing around him.

And then there was the 'hanging with my family'. Her dad had once joked that Sean was a 'real Rice'. It was a funny way of saying that he was always welcome in their family. In a way, it was Sean getting her father's blessing for, well, whatever it was that they were doing. She'd hugged her father that night, showing him her gratefullness, without using words. He'd understood.

The 'painting pictures of my face'

just made everything even clearer. He'd drawn her for his Grand Canion video. It was the first time that she'd seen him drawing something. Thinking back to that moment, she realized that that must be the first time she'd felt 'butterflies.'

Had this really been going on for such a long time already?

I see you in my dreams now

you're the one I need now

Baby, come and take me away

I got you where I want you...

And while the chorus repeated itself, Kaycee realised that Kylie had talked to the 'subjects' of the records. That meant that Sean had a say in what this song was about...And this was clearly a love song. Did that mean-? But then again, was it really Sean who this was about? In all honesty, no-one could ever come even close to what she felt for Sean...

...You're my superstar

You're my superstar

You're my superstar...

And then she remembered. The post it! It was the only way to check if this was about Sean. It'd be a big deal if it was. Sean wouldn't agree with a song with "I'm your woman, your my man" in it without wanting to make a real statement. This was serious.

Quickly, she snatched a pen and some paper from her desk and wrote the word superstar on it.

'What you guys are (officially) minus the n'

She could come up with a million things that they were. Friends? Best Friends? Soulmates? A couple?

It was all so confusing.

But then her attention slid back towards the post it. Officially.

And suddenly she knew it. They were official dance partners, but there wasn't a 'c' in superstar, so she had to take the word partners, minus the n, and then the letters p,a,r,t,e,r, and s remained.

Plus the first and last letter of your nickname for him/her

That wasn't even a question. Sean would always stay her Shamu...

So she took the s and the u, puzzled for a bit, and established that she'd been right all along.

P A R T E R S S U

S U P E R S T A R

You're my superstar,

You're my superstar ...

And she realized then and there, that it was the truth.

Sean Lew really was her superstar.

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Part 2

#cimorelli #seaycee #music #fanfiction #superstar

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