Yesterday was one of those super aggravating days of work where all you can do is grit your teeth and hang on while things beyond your control (plus interfering bosses) make your job a thousand times harder to do. So after work, L. and I met up and I had four happy hour cosmos and a steak dinner and life was much better when I couldn't feel my face. Now I am back at work and the bullshit is starting again. Arranging one meeting of 12 people should not require this amount of effort. Needless to say, I will be really glad when it's 5 pm today.
If you want to ask me about any of these, I'll talk about how I came up with it/why I wrote it that way. If I remember.
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Meanwhile in baseball AU land, I was thinking about the Avengers lineup and came up with this:
1. Bucky Barnes - 2B 2. Peter Parker - CF 3. Sam Wilson - LF 4. Carol Danvers - RF 5. Thor Odinson - 3B 6. Steve Rogers - 1B 7. Natasha Romanoff - C 8. Tony Stark - SS 9. Clint Barton - P
I'm sure there would be fiddling and fine-tuning over the course of the season and depending on how everyone was doing, but it's a pretty stacked lineup. And I think I even managed to figure out how to write this story if that is in fact what I'm going to do. Or at least what the main emotional arc would be.
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Today's poem:
Olives, Bread, Honey and Salt
The lanes are littered with the bodies of bees. A torrent took them, swarming in branches just as the white buds loosened their hearts of pale yellow powder. Each body is a lover: the one with skin blank as pages; the one so moved by the pulse ticking in your throat; the one who took your lips in his teeth and wouldn't let go; the one who turned from you and lay there like a carcass. If we were made to be whole, we wouldn't be so lost to each offering of tenderness and a story. Therefore our greatest longing is our home. There is always the one bee that circles and circles, twitching its sodden wings.
Man, we had some giant thunderstorms last night. They were really loud and crazy. It's kind of early for that isn't it?
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Following on my post yesterday afternoon, here is some head canon for an Avengers baseball AU that I may or may not ever write (I posted this to tumblr last night but 1. I want to be able to find it again and 2. I've expanded on it even more, because BASEBALL + AVENGERS = HAPPY PLACE):
So Thor comes to the US for college because of ~reasons and he's on the hockey team but Steve convinces him to play baseball and he LOVES it and he's like this phenom who never played before college and all of a sudden he's like a power hitting gold glove third baseman. And he and Steve are like the golden boys of NCAA baseball, and they're so excited when they both end up on the Avengers (because Steve & Thor are EPIC BROS). Thor's walk-up music is "Immigrant Song," because of course it is. VALHALLA, I AM COMING.
Steve, if you'll recall, is our All-American first baseman and captain of the team. (Which team? EVERY TEAM HE'S EVER BEEN ON.)
Bucky is Steve's BFF/boyfriend/second baseman in college, but nobody is allowed to know they're sleeping together once they're in the big leagues, and Steve totally goes into a slump when Bucky is unceremoniously traded to the Reds at the trade deadline because Fury thinks he's a shit-stirrer in the clubhouse (I think they break up after this happens, and if I write this story, it will be about them getting back together during the season). But a couple seasons later, after he gets injured and has surgery, the Reds waive him and eventually the Avengers pick him up again, mostly to make Steve happy, though it turns out he's still a ferocious competitor, even if he can't hit the way he used to, he's got great range and has finally learned how to be a team player with people other than Steve.
Tony is the mouthy shortstop who is drunk a lot so people think he's only on the team because he's not-so-secretly sleeping with the team's owner, Ms. Pepper Potts, but come the end of August, come game time, he is sober and sharp and once he and Bucky work out their issues, they are a deadly double-play tandem.
Clint is their ace starter. He's a little older now, can't quite bring the high heat he used to, but nobody paints the corners like Clint Barton - the man can put the ball wherever he wants, and when Natasha is calling the game for him, he's all but unhittable.
Natasha was one of the first women to break into the MLB - she came up with the Reds and played with Bucky there for a while - and came to the Avengers as a free agent. She has an amazing rapport with the pitching staff - not just Clint, but ace reliever Bruce Banner, up and coming phenom Kate Bishop, knuckle-baller Sharon Carter, and Jessica Drew, queen of the curve - and she is fearless when she guards the plate - you might knock her over, but she never loses her grip on the ball.
Carol Danvers was another pioneer for women in the MLB - she's got a cannon for an arm and made the 30-30 club an unprecedented three years in a row before being sidelined by cancer. She's back now, though, cancer-free and better than ever, ready to finally become the first woman to win the triple crown.
Nobody really expected Peter Parker to excel in center field, but he's excellent defensively and has made a habit of climbing the outfield walls to steal what would surely be home runs against anyone else. He's also the team's leading base stealer and doubles hitter.
This year's newest addition is left fielder Sam Wilson, who played with Steve and Sharon on the US Olympic team and has just come over from the Yankees. GM Jane Foster and manager Nick Fury hope he's the missing piece of the puzzle that will finally put the Avengers over the top in the Series.
Now I need to figure out how to fit in some more people - maybe Rhodey is Tony's agent and BFF who rescued him from a terrible contract with his old manager/agent Obadiah Stane. Janet Van Dyne is the team's head PR person. Eli is obviously the grandson of the great Isaiah Bradley, one of the earliest black players in the majors after Jackie Robinson broke the color line, and great things are expected of him, but he's still young and green but Steve is mentoring him.
Rikki's a rookie infielder who starts at short on day games after night games, or when they need extra left-handers in the line up. (She's also Bucky's niece but she'll get right up in your face if you imply that she's only on the team because of her family connections.)
Teddy Altman is the backup catcher and Billy Kaplan is a promising young starter who's been moved to middle relief because of wildness. America Chavez is currently the fifth starter, but it looks like she'll be moving up in the rotation if her fastball keeps hitting 100 mph on the radar gun. Anya Sofia Corazon gets called up from Triple A to play center when Peter concusses himself after running into one wall too many and rides the pine for a month.
Also, because timesink asked, and because it is important, you know Steve and Bucky rock the high socks, and Thor does whatever Steve does, while Tony wears his pants long because he thinks it makes him look taller, and Clint wears his pants tight because he's Clint (he'd probably also roll his sleeves if he could get away with it, and he never wears long sleeves even when the weather would require it).
(As an unrelated aside, how are there only 28 Steve/Bucky/Natasha stories listed at AO3 [only 25 if you subtract the ones I've written]? I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. Captain America and his formerly brainwashed Russian assassins! BEST AVENGERS THREESOME OR BESTEST AVENGERS THREESOME? IS THIS NOT THE PLOT OF CAPTAIN AMERICA: WINTER SOLDIER? [IT SHOULD BE.])
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Today's poem:
Anecdote by Emily Elizabeth Schulten
In the front of the Piggly Wiggly he empties the pockets of his Levis, because when he looks at the girl he wants sacrifice. The machine plastic has grayed, frost obscuring the view of what the bubbles inside might hold. He likes not knowing. He wants to know what's inside of her, when her head tilts up and she reaches her arm through the shape his arm makes when his hand is in his pocket. But now he looks into the machine. When the round case rattles and falls, he pops the top and finds a man with a plastic parachute, wrapped in red string. He holds it like a tiny baby in his palm, his eyebrows not quite understanding, but searching for an omen. It gets cold and cloudier and she carries both grocery bags, and he unravels the army-green body from the chute, knowing what's next is to let him fall.
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