modern day icarus with burns on his back and full of bitterness and throws out cynicism but sometimes he just looks at the sun like it’s the best thing in the world (◡‿◡✿)
WHAT THE FUCKAM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL
I feel like this needs to be added
get to know me meme: [1/5] favorite female characters
"It’s not obedience, Mr. Beckett; it’s respect." - Mako Mori
#i will reblog every single fucking iteration of this line #mako mori fucking up your ethnocentrism #mako mori isn’t ashamed to value family and elders #mako mori doesn’t give a fuck about your indidvidualistic white ideals #mako mori will do whatever it takes #mako mori will stand down #mako mori will stand up #mako mori will live through life altering trauma #mako mori will carry every single horrific memory with her into battle #and mako mori will slay all the beasts #mako mori #forever
LET’S ALL PRETEND THAT THIS IS HOW IT IS, that steve and bucky are just regular people, hipsters, kids that grew up in each other’s pockets and never got sent over the edge of the train, or down with the ship, or into the cryo chamber, or to war. that they made it to the 21st century the same way everyone else did and neither one of them has ever woken up disoriented in a borrowed future. that somewhere deep down in the bowels of the city there is a train running with their initials carved painstakingly into the underside of the plastic seats, each of them using the other’s housekey to carve their bit on the ride home from school, and it’s as close as either one of them has ever come to being memorialized.
let’s pretend that the only time steve’s ever thought bucky was dead was for those six terrible hours last summer, when bucky sprained his wrist at work and there was a mixup at the hospital, a message on steve’s machine that was meant for someone else. that bucky finally took a cab home alone after waiting fucking hours for steve to show up, only to let himself into their apartment and find steve plastered to him a second later, gasping these wet, strangled-sounding breaths against the side of bucky’s neck. that bucky didn’t know what had happened but guessed enough to let his own anger drain away, to close his eyes and wrap his arms around steve’s waist in apology.
let’s pretend that bucky’s never been anyone but himself except on painkillers, a couple of times, so zoned out after getting his wisdom teeth pulled that he couldn’t remember his name; that steve laughed, and brought him ice cream, told him he could be anyone he wanted to. that their hurts are easily catalogued and explained. that underneath bucky’s t-shirt there is a patchwork of freckles and musculature but few scars, nothing that would make anyone gasp and wonder, that if there’s blood on his hands its only his own, or steve’s, maybe, picked up patching him up, trying to hold them both together. that his sleeping dogs are left to lie and even awake, they’re not so terrible, little trespasses, mistakes, nothing that would make anyone bat an eyelash.
let’s just pretend that this is it, the two of them, steve in a sweatshirt and plastic-rimmed glasses and bucky like this, black pants, black t-shirt, his v-neck stretched out from all the times steve’s grabbed him by it and drawn him in for a kiss. let’s pretend that this is just one of a hundred thousand moments before they go somewhere, anywhere — a party or a ballgame, dinner with their friends, the grocery store, even work. let’s pretend that this is the part of their day where steve checks again that he locked the door as bucky leans against the railing on the stairs, eyes fond, mouth parted around whatever conversation is coming easy between them today, and says, “c’mon, rogers, c’mon.”
When The Avengers came out I wanted Clint and Natasha to be secret!married so bad, but now after The Winter Soldier I want it even more because Steve finds out and then his first thought is oh my god I kissed a married woman and he doesn’t know whether or not to confess because it was work-related but his conscience is eating away at him and finally he gives in but then he just can’t because Clint’s laughing so damn hard he can’t even hear himself speaking.
ok, idk how easy this is to read but since everyone is discussing dates, i went to the movie to check. this is steve’s rejection from the beginning, his birthday is in the upper right corner and there’s ANOTHEr date in the lower left which I think is supposed to be a today’s date kind of thing and it looks to be June 14 1943
so there we go, steve enlists in mid 1943
How interesting that you would mention this, because I’ve recently been thinking he didn’t enlist. His serial number, which he’s heard muttering when Steve comes to rescue him, starts “32557.”
According to this fabulous WWII serial number generator, an enlisted man from New York should have a serial number starting with the numbers “12.”
A New York man with a serial number starting with “32”? Drafted. What we may be dealing with here is a Bucky who didn’t choose to go to war but was instead compelled to do so versus a Steve who is desperate to get in. I think it opens up a lot of different and interesting storylines for the two of them.
There’s been some great meta/discussion about this in the last couple days, which I think is great.
Makes you wonder if Bucky got the draft, and then, knowing how Steve felt about things, told his best buddy he was “enlisting.” Because how do you face this skinny, brave idiot who just won’t stop trying to volunteer that you wouldn’t be going if you didn’t have to?
Fun Story: My director kept telling me and my tenor sax buddy to play softer. No matter what we did, it wasn’t soft enough for him. So getting frustrated, I told my buddy “Dont play this time. Just fake it”
Our Band Director then informed us we sounded perfect.
To my readers: “p” means quiet, “pp” means really quiet. I’ve never seen “pppp” before haha.
On the contrast, “f” means loud, and “ffff” probably means so loud you go unconscious.
I had ffff in a piece once and my conductor told me to play as loudly as physically possible without falling off my chair…
Me and my trombone buddies had “ffff” and he sat next to me and played so hard that he fell out of his chair.
The lengths we go for music.
Okay yeah so I play the bass clarinet and the amount of air you have to move and the stiffness of the reed means it only has two settings and that is loud and louder, with an optional LOUDEST that includes a 50% probability of HORRIBLE CROAKING NOISE which is the bass equivalent of the ubiquitous clarinet shriek.
One day, when I was in concert band in high school, we got a new piece handed out for the first time, and there was a strange little commotion back in the tuba section — whispering, and pointing at something in the music, and swatting at each other’s hands all shhh don’t call attention to it. And although they did attract the attention of basically everyone else in the band, they managed to avoid being noticed by the band director, who gave us a few minutes to look over our parts and then said, “All right, let’s run through it up to section A.”
And here we are, cheerfully playing along, sounding reasonably competent — but everyone, when they have the attention to spare, is keeping an eye on the tuba players. They don’t come in for the first eight measures or so, and then when they do come in, what we see is:
[reeeeeeally deep breath]
[COLOSSAL FOGHORN NOISE]
The entire band stops dead, in the cacophonous kind of way that a band stops when it hasn’t actually been cued to stop. The band director doesn’t even say anything, just looks straight back at the tubas and makes a helpless sort of why gesture.
In unison, the tuba players defend themselves: “THERE WERE FOUR F’S.”
FFFF is not really a rational dynamic marking for any instrument, but for the love of all that is holy why would you put it in a tuba part.
This is the best band post
Everyone else go home
Oh man, so I play trombone, and we got this piece called Florentiner Marsch by Julius Fucik, and we saw this
which is 8 fortes. We were shocked until,
that is 24 fortes who the fuck does that
Who does that?
This guy. Take a good look - that is the moustache of a man with nothing to lose.
More like Julius Fuckit
this post just kept getting better and better
Chris and Liam Hemsworth sharing a loving brotherly moment
I’m craving pb
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