#Also Soviet is blushing

[ikarus-angel]

Draw a Countryhuman !

Disclaimer:

Reich is not my favorite in an affectionate way - I do not support or condone any of his actions - or any lf the historical events that led to his creation. I am part of this community because I am interested in history - not in the characters from an uninformed standpoint. This makes him very fascinating - and a great story component.

[stirringwinds]

do you like rochu?

sorry anon, but it's personally in the notp corner for me. presently, i find his relationships with other asians like kiku, yong-soo, taiwan, india/aditya, vietnam/lien, hk, singapore etc—or rome, alfred and arthur more interesting to explore. as a chinese person, i'm a little burned out on ro//chu mainly because when i first joined the fandom there were a lot of orientalist depictions reducing yao to this delicate, blushing and sexually-inexperienced character next to ivan. another issue i had generally was the tendency to simplify or completely sever yao's far more deep and important relationships with people like yong-soo, kiku and india to prioritise whiteness, rather than like, inserting russia-china into that context of intra-asian histories.

i think the fandom has improved somewhat in this regard in that I do see more realistic Yao depictions, and i definitely wouldn't generalise all shippers, but that's the reason i couldn't quite 'get' into this ship. also because the perspective i take is the fact that china and the soviet union were competing for leadership of the communist bloc, so yeah, ro//chu as romantic communists for me is kind of...overblown and if anything my take on it is a fairly calculating and at times antagonistic relationship that can be interesting to dig into, but isn't very sentimental. no offense if you ship it; i will be honest that my blog just wouldn't be the right place for that.

[i-am-the-doctor]

This is Maxim Ivanov!

He/They/It

Pansexual 💗💛💙

Cis Male

Russian 🇷🇺

Maxim is a demon, Former Soviet soldier and a Gopnik from the former Soviet Union (now Russia), and he lives in a tank that he modified into both a usable tank and a home, and usually lives in highly irridiated places, like Chernobyl, three mile island, fukushima, and other places! He listens to hardbass on the daily and does the S L A V  S Q U A T a lot. His favorite “foods” are radium rods, cheese, sunflower seeds, and potato chips. He has blue blood, so he blushes blue. He is also HIGHLY RADIOACTIVE, but he can control his body’s radiation, so its fine. He was made out of radioactive materials by his mother- so he’s kinda like a golem in a way.

He is the son of Avidita, the leader of the greed ring, and is next in line to inherit it- but he doesn't really want to.

[buttercup-barf]

Running out of stuff in the scheduled posts- My laptop's screen and keyboard got fucky-wuckied, and I hope we can fix them by the end of the week, because otherwise random doodles is all I've got.

So now, time to present the other Wizard Of Oz-inspired OC's.

Here's Ian (he/him, masculine terminology), Shilo/Strizh (he/they, masculine and androgynous terminology) and Ronna (she/they, feminine terminology).

I believe I only mentioned Ronna so far, but now you can see The Rest Of Them, so there's that. More info will be under the cut, so that people browsing the Wizard Of Oz tag won't have to scroll for five hours. "X-)

As you can probably tell, Shilo, Ian, and Ronna are the Scarwcrow, Tin Man, and Lion stand-ins respectively. There's no Dorothy or Toto stand-ins, rather their traits are distributed among the three. Although calling them "stand-ins" is a little dishonest, as they only share some backstory and aesthetic elements with the Brain-Heart-Courage Trio from the books.

Their world is more inspired by slavic fairytales and Soviet cartoon depictions of them, the "human" species of their world is called "lud", and they all have grey features, it's not just a filter, shit's different. Also these three are explicitly a polycule, rather than just buddies. A triad specifically, as they all date each other. Yay!

The obligatory human "AU" has them all living in the actual human world, and their Tragic Backstories are tweaked a little, but the general gist of them as a trio is: Local twig smartass and his two beanpole partners that could bench-press an elephant get into wacky scenarios. And yeah, Strizh's little patch of fabric is vitiligo in his human form. Sue me.

Side note, in the "canon", Ronna's left eye is just. Gone. It's a hole. But in the human "AU" they got a glass one that is just pitch black to look cool. The scar over that one, as well as the one under her right eye, and some other ones all over her body are also black in "canon" and da human "AU" because of dark gor blood and sick tattoo wishes respectively.

And two still-alive Ians for comparison between lud and humans. Lud are just People but with grey skin, eyes, hair, etc. Their blood is a bright #ff0000 kind of red, but it's not like you can really see it, can you. If a lud were to blush, the blood rushing to their cheeks would just make them darker. There's also some wacky shit (by human standards) with their chromosomes and reproductive organs, but I'll cut it here.

Also. "Canonically" he got Tin Man'd, but in the human "AU" he ended up mauled in a far less "OH SHIT HE IS LITERALLY JUST A BLOODY PILE OF MEAT WE NEED A MIRACLE FOR HIM TO BE BROUGHT BACK" way, so he just needed some prosthetics. He's fine.

[blackknight95857669]

Atomic Heart review

I recently acquired an Xbox Series X off eBay (new but with shipping damage to the housing, fully functional, $450 after taxes, wee) so naturally the first thing I did was download 600GB (oops, Comcast gonna scold me) of Game Pass games to it, including Atomic Heart which I decided to play first.

So to start off, as a first effort from a studio AH is fairly well put together. Didn't experience any crashes, game breaking bugs etc. The world is certainly well realized and quite pretty, despite the large numbers of dead Soviets laying around everywhere. Sound design is better than average for the most part, though I did notice that it was hard to exactly pinpoint enemies by sound, their SFX didn't seem to be 3D optimized.

While it looks pretty and for the most part controls well (more on that shortly), once you start playing it rapidly becomes apparent that this game was written by/for tween-teen edgelords. There so much unnecessary swearing and over-sexualized content shoved into this game it would almost make Duke Nukem blush. For ex: the upgrade kiosk being an eager to please, begging to be dominated Sub was certainly a choice. I will give them credit for having P-3 be repulsed by it, Duke Nukem probably would have fucked it. The story is also so cookie cutter obvious and ripped from BioShock I expected my glove to keep asking me "would you kindly" (it actually did say this at one point, lol). I did like most of of the "side" story text/audiologs/NPCs etc, it almost felt like a different team was writing that stuff, heh. **END GAME SPOILER-ISH ALERT** I will say it was a novel idea to give me a binary choice near the end that boiled down to "go get revenge on the real big bad" or " if you've had enough of this game, just quit". I actually picked the quit just to see what it did. Very anticlimactic possible sequel teasing 1 min end cinematic.

About those controls.. while the shooting is good, on par with most of the games in this genre, the melee combat left a lot to be desired for me. No target lock makes old man gamer get cranky. I thought it wouldn't be a big deal as they aren't shy about funneling you plenty of ammo, but there's mini-bosses that you can't harm with anything but melee/elemental damage. Even with some tweaks to the controls I had a hard time keeping up with fast dodging enemies, so I ended up dropping the difficulty from the standard the game starts with to "story mode" just so I could get through it. I liked the rest of the gameplay, especially the crafting loop, enough to keep playing through to the credits.

Overall, I'd say this game is worth a look if you have an itch to play another BioShock and you have Game Pass. I'd wait for at least a 50% off sale anywhere else, and if you haven't played it by the time it's 75% off it's a no brainer.

[axvoter]

Blatantly Partisan Party Review IX (NSW 2023): Group K (Oscar Grenfell / Socialist Equality Party)

Prior reviews of the Socialist Equality Party: federal 2013, federal 2016, federal 2019, federal 2022

What I said before: “Simply put, the SEP are the cranks of the Australian socialist space. That’s saying a lot given some of the weird units out there too. The SEP are still ranting that all other left-wing parties and trade unions, including other socialist parties, are on the ‘pseudo-left’. It’s tedious and childish. Just because you have minor ideological disagreements does not mean everyone else is some stooge of global capital.” (federal 2022)

What I think this year: The SEP failed to retain federal registration when parliament raised the membership threshold from 500 to 1,500 members, leading to a comical sequence of events detailed in my federal 2022 review. They did, nonetheless, run grouped independents at the federal election: in NSW, these were Max Boddy and Oscar Grenfell. Both of them are back for the NSW state election. Boddy is standing as an SEP-endorsed independent in the seat of Bankstown, while Grenfell leads a two-candidate SEP-endorsed ticket in the upper house. You need 15 candidates in a group to get a square above the line, so obviously this SEP tilt at office (like all their tilts at office) is a non-starter. They are whinging that they don’t get the SEP name on the ballot because of NSW’s “anti-democratic electoral laws”, when if they simply had 13 more friends they’d get an unlabelled square above the line and if they could sign up 750 members they would be able to get their name on the ballot. If they truly were a party of the workers, 750 would be no problem.

Anyway, the SEP is the most disagreeable wing of socialism in Australia. If you’ve been following this blog for any length of time, you know I think they are petty and narrowminded, habitually condemning everyone else for even the slightest disagreement. The hubris of their rhetoric is in inverse proportion to its persuasiveness. If you want a socialist option in NSW, go with the Socialist Alliance rather than this bilious not-a-party.

Also, predictably, the SEP’s rhetoric about the war in Ukraine is “look what you made me do” bullshit sympathising with Russia. Indeed, Grenfell claims in the above-linked article that this is a “US-NATO war against Russia”, which is so comical even the most craven Putin apologist would surely blush. It seems strange to me to need to reiterate to some on the left that sovereign states can freely choose their memberships of international organisations, and these choices do not justify military assaults, not even from Russia. But it seems some remain wedded to “the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and my enemy is always the US”, or to blindly supporting Russia as if the Soviet Union never collapsed. Yawn.

Recommendation: Give Group K (Oscar Grenfell / Socialist Equality Party) a weak or no preference.

Website: https://www.wsws.org/en/special/pages/sep/australia/home.html

[joyfulmagic]

@heldheart continued from [here] // Sophia Rogers & Illya Kuryakin

Illya had met Sophia years after the Snap, after he'd returned to Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union for nearly twenty years to help them rebuild rather than serve as an Avenger. To him, she was another adult born after him due to his immortality and decelerated aging. Hell, he'd thought about stopping aging around 33 and he looked in his late 20s, early 30s, so it worked for him. He'd known her father back during WWII and during some of the events following the 2012 attack on New York City, but was never close with Steve - in truth, he'd grown closer to Bucky Barnes.

Illya had feelings for Sophia very gradually, seeing her father's admirable traits in her, along with her mother's. He'd even trained with her, teaching her hand to hand combat that her mother hadn't and mental techniques to block out magical intrusion. Eventually, they'd kissed during sparring once she was closer to the age he was staying at.

He'd never looked at her before she hit twenty-five, not in the way he was starting to. Hell, he'd asked her out when she hit 26 on her birthday as he was daring. She'd said yes, and they'd been dating a little less than a year at this point. This was their first Valentine's Day together, and he'd decided to take her to a fair in one of the warmer states.

"I'm also very competitive," Illya reminded her with a cheeky smile, his fair cheeks showing a blush at Sophia's words of affection. He wasn't accustomed to praise or words of affection, yet he craved them.

The bear he'd won her at a supposedly rigged game was nearly her size, which entertained the giant super soldier. The kiss on his cheek made his smile more sincere, him dipping down to kiss Sophia's cheek chastely. He was courting her slowly, like the proper gentleman he'd been raised to be.

"I thought a bear was fitting with me being, well, Russian and giant,, so he'd remind you of me when I'm away," he chuckled sheepishly, then raised a brow at the fact she may have gotten him something as well.

[madstronaut]

Reading: Cold Embrace by @obsidiangravity

- first off shoutout to my fellow niktosimps and general rarepair/not-so-popular character lovers, we out here campin happily (gripping our thighs till we bleed) and patiently in rarepair hell

- let me start my saying this fic basically scratches the itch for me in my ideal slowburn romance story and IT IS NOT EVEN FINISHED YET??? HELLO? 911 I’D LIKE TO REPORT A FUCKIN MASTERPIECE???

- I like to believe there’s a little unhinged perv in all of us simping for standoffish highly trained spetsnaz masked stonecold killers who slowly warm up and show their tender soft gooey heart but OH MY GOD obsy’s version of nikto is so well-written i can savor a re-read like this personal comfortfic many, many times and still feel the same giddiness, tenderness, tension, and anticipation I did the first time I read it through

- accidental bump into each other is also a fave meet-cute scenario of mine ❤️

- absolutely savored the awkward tension of reader and nikto wordlessly cleaning up the spilled beef stroganoff, very kevins-famous-chilli-esque iykyk

- every moment of eye contact, nikto noticing reader’s lips, reader picking up on his emotions through his eyes, noticing his BARE FOREARMS, omg cover them up slut???, SHARING COFFEE, the unsexy PTSD choking incident and his THUMB TRACING HER COLLARBONES afterwards while checking on her, touching her neck and then basically spooning and INTERLOCKING FINGERS because hypothermia - has me pulsing and blushing redder than reading the most explicit rawdogging scene PLEASE THE LEVEL OF EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT I HAVE TO THESE TWO GETTING INTIMATE IN EVERY WAY EXCEPT FOR ACTUAL SEX IS REACHING ‘I NEED TO BE MEDICATED’ LEVELS

- I love the reader’s journey in gradually learning how to pick up the tells/emotions from nikto through their eyes, as someone who’s learned and is still learning to do same I feel very seen, no pun intended lol

- also generally speaking, I am so drawn to the sense of compassion and understanding the reader has for someone like nikto and how easily she gives both in respecting his space and going out of her way to make him feel comfortable and included - buying him the dinner she ruined immediately, leaving his mask on even if it cost her the sparring match, offering to eat in her room so he can eat at a reasonable time with her, taking note of his habits and working around them, her thinking of his absence when the whole group is sharing meals - it reminds me of the people in my life who’ve been so patient, considerate, persevering, and kind with me and reminds me to strive to do the same for the people around me. <3 anyway I love fanfic and it’s made me a better human (sorry did I say better? one sec I think I misspelled hornier)

- did not realize nikto is wearing a flight suit til I read this fic which sent me down a rabbit hole of researching and googling soviet flight suits for a good hour or two (also shoutout to For All Mankind, obsessed with that show)

- me, taking notes on how to flirt with/recognize being flirted with spetsnaz masked men: “spill…their food, check…save them from sniper, check…gaze longingly at their lips, check…give pointers on how to improve by unwittingly insulting them, check…run them through training courses relentlessly at 3am, check…lend them your personal gun, still warm from your touch, check…get crush alone, respond to questions with terse 1-2 word answers, check…”

- “"You're quiet, I like that." His tone has a slight cheery lilt to it. The corners of his eyes relax.” NIKTO YOU ABSOLUTE HORNDOG YOU THAT IS SOME SOME HARDCORE NIKTO FLIRTING©️ IF I SAY SO

- dmitry bale is canonically an excellent chef who loves spilling tea™️ while cooking, you cannot change my mind. also canon, he is my babygirl malewife

- i love multiple unresolved threads fleshing out a good plot and the ??? that is nikolai and nikto’s relationship or lack thereof keeps me up at night speculating sometimes lol

- please dmitry’s dimpled smile comment <3 i would commit tax evasion to see his face - i see a lot of speculation online about what he may look like as it’s canon that he’s fraternal twins (so not identical) with maxim/minotaur. Sidenote i know a pair of fraternal twin sisters and they just look like straight up one copy of the mom, and one copy of the dad to me lol

- it is my sincere belief nikto has rubbed one or two or three out recalling sparring with reader ❤️ (and esp. her choosing not to unmask him) ok but to put my horniness aside briefly - nikto and reader don’t converse much until a little later in the story but the way their body language and actions to each other speak VOLUMES is so loud, their crushing on each other is literally screeching in my ear mansplaining baseball to me like that one meme

picturing from Nikto’s POV, I can’t imagine the emotions that must course through him when he realizes reader, well within her rights to rip his mask off, not only chooses not to but is close enough to her to feel her physically relaxing under him so he can win? nikto is apparently also a budding part-time magician for hiding that boner which was 10000% there in my head

- please god i want to see rodion find out about The Hypothermia Incident and eventually gloat (and get his ass beat) and attempt to take credit for wingmanning for nikto to get with reader

- chess as flirting is honestly the most russian thing i can think of tbh. on that note if you’re a fan of this pairing I highly recommend the movie Man From U.N.C.L.E. starring henry cavill/armie “cannibal” hammer/alicia vikander, I used to be a huuuuuge ilya/gaby fan (love me some classic spetsnaz spy x working class mechanic girl/enemies to lovers/pretend engagement❤️)

- sleepy nikto with a skewed mask hastily thrown on has me both incredibly tender and horny for him at the same time, i cannot explain it it’s just science

- ahem as a bonafide current dmitry simp, also daydreaming of an AU where reader went on this undercover mission with him instead; fanfic is simply the gift that keeps on giving when a good story can sprout endless AUs of AUs of AUs 

- also yes nikolai my feminist queen, empowering reader to take lead on the mission? or did he just say that so she could shut up and go on the mission? he may not be as close to nikto anymore but what else does he know of him (and nitko’s budding relationship with reader) to be pairing them together? *conspiracy theorizing intensifies*

- the minute i read about how cold the apartment was my lizard brain screamed SHAREBODYHEAT SHAREBED SHARECLOTHES YES YES YES YES and would not shut up and the absolute disappointment I felt when first reading that there were two separate beds had me laughing my ass off at myself till i cried

- i can physically feel the hearts bubbling out of reader’s eyes seeing nikto in normal clothes, tis a beautiful thing to witness

- when i tell you my soul left my body, fully died and had to call up my dnd party to use up some costly diamonds to cast resurrection on me to return to life when i read nikto calling reader “darling” tO mAiNtAiN cOvEr while talking to the babushka and the cackle that left my lungs after she retaliated by HOLDING HIS HAND? WHO FUCKING NEEDS SMUT WHEN SHIT LIKE THIS IS WRITTEN

- nikto’s snark and the emotional pain he feels hearing reader attempt to speak russian is what gets me out of bed these days

- “You roll your eyes but stiffly walk beside him, you can’t remember the last time a man, or anyone, held you this close. Eventually, you relaxed into his warmth, your body leaning into his. It’s starting to get colder so you’re secretly grateful for the heat.

And if you are going to be honest with yourself, it makes you feel protected.” i smile like an idiot every time i read these lines. again, smut who? i can run for days without food or water with this kind of fluff

- i like to imagine there is a little angel and devil on nikto’s shoulders shaking hands/highfiving whenever reader does/says shit like “You’re the first to head to bed again, but not before asking if he would like to join you” and record the memory in their book of Things Nikto Jerks Off To

- same as above, but for reader when Nikto proclaims her clothing is “pathetic, remove it” and then he takes off his own sweater telling her to “use mine later”

- i inhaled a metaphorical tub of popcorn while also holding my breath when reader found/went through nikto’s pills lol the absolute fear i felt at her being found out!! 

- once again the ease with which reader & nikto slips into the domesticity of shopping for clothes together speaks volumes to me <3 and yes, tell me ur single without telling me ur single, men with very limited wardrobes 

- I would like to advocate for a cash bonus and stock options for the activision writer who pitched giving Sputnik the Hyena as a companion to Nikto 

- I have also gone in search of strawberry scent/shampoo IRL only to discover it’s not really a popular scent; i sniffed some The Body Shop shower gel at a local store near my office and it wasn’t as appealing as I hoped it would be :/ truly tho i love when writers work in smellsnbells and scents into their stories in some way (must be the ABO fan/candle girlie in me)

anyway in conclusion: NIKTO SUPREMACY

The Challenge: Comment on every fanfic you read and enjoy in the month of January.

Every chapter. Every one shot. Every drabble. Every ficlet. Whether it’s on a personal website, a blog, or an archive. Whether you’ve read it a hundred times before or you’re reading it for the first time. Whether the fic was posted years ago or minutes ago. Whether you sign your name or leave your thoughts anonymously. Whether your comment is paragraphs in length or a few short words. Comment on every fanfic you read and enjoy in the month of January.

The Philosophy: Comments are what keep a fandom thriving and growing.

We don’t see comments as a transaction. They’re not a price paid for reading a fic. We see comments as an interaction, a way of building relationships. Comments are a courtesy, not a currency. [x]

Fandom is a relationship between dozens,hundreds, thousands, maybe millions of fans, and the only way for the greater fandom relationship to function, is for those fans to interact. One way to interact is by writing and reading fanfic. A writer prompts an interaction by posting their work; it is up to the reader to then acknowledge (or not acknowledge).

As one of our favorite blogs, @ao3commentoftheday​, said: [x]

“Comment if you can, but don’t be bullied or pressured into it. A comment should be written in the same spirit as the fic itself: wanting to reach out to other people who love the same fandom as you do. It’s not easy to do that, I know, and I don’t hold it against you at all if you can’t.”

The Only Rule: Be kind.

Be kind to your fandoms’ writers.

Please note that this challenge is to “comment on every fanfic you read and enjoy in the month of January.” As our fandom forebears were fond of saying, “Don’t like, don’t read.” For FaFiCoWriMo, we have taken that one step further by saying, “Don’t like, don’t comment.”

No matter how well-intentioned, critique is useless unless it comes from a place of trust. Unless you know an author personally and they have specifically asked for your critique, please keep it to yourself.

It costs zero of your currency and zero of your time to not be a jerk.

Be kind to yourself.

If you do find yourself unable to comment on every fic (for whatever reason), remember this: we forgive you, zero judgement. [x]

[wndaswife]

hi there x

I'm a new anon, I will use the same emoji that I use in hopelesslygaymess's blog <3

First of all, your writing is amazing, and your drabbles earn a small blush every single time I reload my page

Second of all, when it comes to the topic of war, I too found World War 2 to be incredibly interesting. Some people's hyperfixations are shark species or astrology, and there are quite a lot of people who have hyperfixations on history and that mostly revolves around war. There's something about it and the psychology around it that truly is very intriguing to go down a rabbit hole to learn all about it

Anyways, I'm sure this is quite a boring anon to recieve, I apologize :)

Your writing is perfect, and I love the colours and aura you have around your blog, it's very pretty and I always look forward to new posts

- 🌀

thanks!!!! i love writing drabbles they’re the best to get some little creative ideas out :3

yeah i suppose that’s true, i actually read all of wind up bird’s war story part last night it was really interesting to learn more ab that history with japan and the soviets and mongolia, but i think it’s just usa history that really is just boring to me

idk i can’t really sympathize or take the american man and his journey in the world seriously i realized yesterday, i had fun reading gatsby i guess tho it was for school, but i can’t take it seriously

probably the closest i’d get to being interested in any theme of that is catcher in the rye, it’s my favourite book and probably annoyingly critical and naive about the american dream and men finding their place, always just calling those people phonies and stuff

i was very interested in wind up bird’s war story it’s just a crazy way to see the world and to know what happened, but i think to me the takeaway is cultural and historical and usa history and culture is so dull to me, it’s almost pretentious to read these men struggle so much in literature about war and their american dreams idk how she can stand it

but i totally see why war is an interesting topic in general, there’s a lot to take away from it

thank you 😃😃😃😃 i also really love the blog colours at the moment and this lizzie look in my pfp has to be one of my favs :3

[silverslipstream]

Happy STS!

Give me the latest gossip in your story! What’s the rumour mill talking about? Are there whispers behind your characters’ backs? Just how true are the rumours?

Happy Storyteller Satur-tuesday Sam, and thank you for the ask! I've not got much for this, but there's a few rumours, both personal and setting-wide, that exist in White Sky:

Kat is attracted to Harry: This one's starting to become a running gag amongst the crew of the Dowager Caroline; there's a constant suspicion the Kat and Harry are hooking up or dating on the sly, which is emphatically untrue. She stresses him out and she thinks he's too flippant and ignorant. For some reason, random people they vaguely know will always comment or assume they're a couple, which drives both of them even crazier.

Stan was a spy/has seen secret war atrocities: It's not something the crew would EVER bring up to Stan himself (who, depending on his mood, would either laugh in their face or mutter at them to fuck off), but they're starting to suspect he saw and did a lot more during his 'war days' than he let on. He wears a lot of military surplus gear, for one. While it's true that he's an accomplished engineer, he's also an expert on explosives, knows the minutiae of killing human beings and occasionally mumbles nightmarish, disconnected ramblings in his sleep. When questioned, he simply states he was 'deployed as a combat pilot' and 'needed a change' upon shifting to the debris hauling industry. Whatever the answers are, the crew aren't getting them from him.

Jack is hooking up with Kaz: At first glance, it seems like this one is just a prank/joke circulated by the crew to piss Jack off, and in most cases, you'd be right. However, Kaz is infamous for blushing and clamming-up whenever it's mentioned, and Harry swears he catches them throwing sneaky glances at each other now and then. Add that to that fact that both are single (Kaz due to his obsessive work ethic and working on Mars for most of his adult life, Jack due to her messy divorce from her wife back on Earth and long hours spent in deep space) and there may be more truth to this rumour that meets the eye...

This doesn't even count the speculation around Kat being forced on the run, which is included but not limited to:

assassinating a political figure (no)

dealing hardcore drugs (absolutely not)

inventing illegal weaponry of some kind (no)

having a sexual relationship with a professor (this one almost got Harry a bulkhead-related concussion)

The United States's 'diplomatic intervention' in Latin America is secretly a preparation for invasion: During the story, an alliance between the US and Mexico enters Venezuela, Bolivia and Ecuador to 'keep the peace' following civil unrest and warfare. Some characters believe it's a genuine offer of peacekeeping in the region, others think it's not those countries' place to interfere, and others think it's a ploy to take advantage of the fighting to declare war, overpower said countries and use their land and equatorial access for spaceports. The latter theory is initially mocked as a conspiracy theory, but as things deteriorate it looks more and more likely...

The former Soviet Union landed on the Moon first: Despite the fact that the US still landed on the Moon first in this timeline (14th July, 1969 vs June 25th, 1970), there's still a rumour and urban legend that Soviet cosmonauts landed on the Moon first, only to suffer an accident or become stranded, hence why their fate(s) were covered up by the USSR. Massive exploration of the Moon in the century since can't find any evidence of unregistered Soviet rockets, and Russia has maintained that the allegations were false ever since the former USSR collapsed in the early 2000s. Still, for a mere rumour, it's a pretty persistent one...

ELTO forces inequality on the lunar surface: This view is purported by Menzies, Cho and the other 'stateless' workers of the Lunar Independence Alliance, who claim their visas were deliberately revoked in order to force migrant workers to stay on the Moon and keep up the status quo. Judging by the way ELTO runs things on Luna, this is probably (and sadly) true.

The Konstantin Tsiolkovsky is a global money-laundering scheme: detractors of ELTO's Saturn mission point out that the Tsiolkovsky has been in development for nearly a decade without much to show for it. Rumour has it, it's an expensive ploy to drive up space investment while secretly bolstering the economies of ELTO member nations. Proven false when the Tsiolkovsky's engine is fired for the first time, and later on when it's "commandeered"

[earlgreydream]

professor barnes.

| professor!bucky barnes x reader | smut | fluff |

don’t mind me, I’m fantasizing about bucky being my hot professor ✨

cw: this is obviously a professor au, so there’s that (please don’t hook up with your profs irl) and also like, slight innocent kink? but not really, mild degradation (not meant)

You were tapping your pen against your lips.

You were deep in thought, hanging off of every word your professor spoke. You listened intently, taking in everything Professor Barnes had to say about World War II history.

History fascinated you, but not near as much as your sexy professor did. James Buchanan Barnes was nothing if not criminally gorgeous. It was distracting.

You really did try to focus on history, but it was so hard when you were watching his soft, full lips move. Occasionally, he would run his fingers through his dark hair, his muscles flexing under the white button downs he always wore.

“Miss Y/N!”

You were snapped out of your thoughts, your pen falling from your fingers and clattering against your desk. It seemed to echo as all of the other students looked at you. Silver eyes bore into you, and you swallowed thickly.

“Professor? I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?” You asked shyly. He looked at you for a moment before sighing.

“I asked who the leader of the Soviet Union was during World War II.”

“Joseph Stalin,” you answered, feeling sick to your stomach at his irritated tone.

“Thank you. Let’s try to pay attention for the rest of the lesson, yeah?”

Your face burned in shame, and a few of the girls smirked at his scolding.

“Yes, sir,” you nodded before he went back to his lecture.

You took notes and kept your head down the rest of the lecture, your penmanship a bit messy from your shaking hands. You closed your notebook and put it away as he ended the lecture, and students rushed out, eager to get to their lunch breaks.

You realized you were the last one left, and you stood, making your way through the empty desks.

“Y/N,” Professor Barnes said your name, and you stopped.

“I’m sorry-” both of you said at the same time, and you bit your lip, letting him continue.

“It wasn’t my intention to shame you.” He finished, and you looked into his silver eyes.

“I’m sorry that I got distracted. I’ll pay better attention next time... I usually do.”

“I know, you’re exceptionally intelligent, Y/N.”

You blushed at the praise, and he offered a small smile, putting you at ease. You thanked him before leaving, thoughts of him filling your mind the rest of the afternoon.

James couldn’t stop watching you. He was lecturing on the USSR, but part of his mind was on you. The way you listened to him, careful not to let yourself get called out again for being distracted. He noticed how you tapped your pen against your pink lips whenever you were in thought.

His mind wandered to your lips around him, though he caught himself and cleared his throat, letting a student speak about their research on Soviet Russia.

When you stood up, you smoothed our your miniskirt that drove him crazy. He imagined yanking it down your legs and bending you over his desk, teaching you to pay attention.

He was drawn back to reality by your sweet smile as you said goodbye as you headed out for the day. The image of your smile stuck in his head, and he couldn’t get you off his mind.

Professor Barnes was the subject of your dreams. You woke up in the middle of the night, after your subconscious had imagined him with his head between your legs, eating you out on top of your desk before class. Your cheeks heated furiously, and you took a cold shower, scrubbing your fantasies away.

You fidgeted in your seat, second guessing your choice of wearing a tight v-neck shirt. You felt silly. You had paired it with a short skirt, all in the hopes that your hot professor would notice you.

But why would he? You were just one of many students attempting to grab a few extra seconds of attention. You were running over your choice of outfit in your head as your professor passed papers back to all of the students.

He laid yours on your desk, and you noticed the lack of letter circled at the top. You were about to stop him when you realized there was a sticky note on the second page.

Please see me in my office after class. JBB

You looked up at him, but he didn’t glance at you as he handed other students their papers. You noticed nothing was marked on your paper, and you suddenly felt nervous.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you walked to his office, stopping by the bathroom to give yourself a pep talk in the mirror. You were sure it was fine, you would’ve gotten an email if you’d truly fucked up, alerting you ahead of time, you tried to convince yourself.

You knocked softly on the doorframe, leaning into his office. It was small and warm, filled with well-loved books and scattered notes of a chaotic mind. It smelled like coffee and books and leather, and everything about the small space seemed inviting.

“Y/N, come in.” Professor Barnes stood up, waving me inside. I stepped in anxiously, pushing the door shut behind me before taking a seat in the chair opposite his desk.

“I saw your note, in my paper. Is something wrong? There was no grade on it, and I’ve been worried...” you confessed, looking up into his silver gaze. He walked around and leaned against the desk in front of you, his hands gripping the edge.

“No, nothing is wrong. In fact, your paper is practically perfect. It’s incredibly written.” His words surprised you.

As he praised you, he looked down at your chest, shown off in your tight, low cut shirt. He wondered if you knew what you did to him, the effect you had. He acted as if he were deep in thought, covering up the fact he accidentally looked at your body a little too long.

“Thank you, sir. I don’t know what to say, I had no idea,” you spoke, and calling him sir made his cock twitch, and his breath catch in his throat.

“Of course. I wanted to talk to you to see if you were interested in publishing it in the school’s academic journal.”

“Oh? I mean, if that’s an option, then yes.”

“I can submit it for you, you’d just need to sign off saying that you grant permission for publication.” He explained to you, and you nodded, signing the form he placed in front of you.

You blushed, thinking about how he was directly in front of you, his body stretched out, muscles on display with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Your entire body grew hot with embarrassment when he caught you staring. 

“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” His voice was low and smooth, and you could’ve sworn he read your mind. 

“Nothing, I’m...” You stammered, unsure of what to say. 

“You’re what, fantasizing?”

Your eyes snapped up to him, and his confidence grew as he saw your thighs squeeze together, giving away your thoughts.

“Professor...” You must have misheard him, and he smirked at how flustered you were getting.

“Is that a yes?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you. Wearing these little outfits and teasing me.” 

He knew. 

James knew he won when he saw realization flood your face. 

“I wear them for you,” you admitted shyly, trying to ignore the throbbing ache between your legs as he gazed down at you.

“That’s what I thought, doll.” 

You bit your lip, looking down at your fingers.

“What do you imagine me doing to you, pretty girl? Do you think about me taking off these little skirts?” He asked you, trailing his fingers along the hem, brushing against your thigh. You inhaled sharply, your head spinning at the touch. You nodded, making him smile as he leaned over you. His lips brushed against your cheekbone, and you felt him smirk against your skin.

“Tell me what you dream about, doll,” he whispered, and by now you were practically shaking.

“Now you’re going to be shy?” James teased, amused by how easily he made you nervous.

He stood abruptly when a knock sounded on the door, and he leaned back on the desk. Your eyes were wide, and you sat frozen, in shock.

“I’m finishing up with a student!” He called through the door.

“I’ll see you soon, then?” He asked, and you nodded, your breath hitching as he gently touched your face. You stood, and he opened the door for the other student.

“I’m sorry, I was just hoping to talk about my grade?” A girl asked, in tears, and he looked like he wanted to harm her for interrupting.

“Yes, come in then.” His tone was impatient, and you lingered in the doorway. James said your name, holding eye contact with you for a moment before going back to work, and you walked down the hallway in a daze.

You couldn’t believe what had just happened. You felt like you were dreaming, your erotic fantasies coming true. You weren’t able to focus on your work, and you went home for the remainder of the day.

When it came time for his class again, you wore a short dress with little straps, wanting to show off as much as possible for him.

Your heart and mind raced as you entered his classroom, and you smiled innocently when his eyes fell on you. The silver darkened, and he watched you move to your seat, and you squirmed under the heavy gaze.

James watched as you uncrossed your legs, catching a flash of the lace beneath your dress. He sat down behind his desk, trying to collect himself and tear his focus off of you.

He was thankful that there was no lecture today, only a short quiz before he sent everybody home. You bit the top of your pen as you thought about the answers on the sheet below you, and Bucky studied your mouth. Your cheeks warmed, feeling the heat of his intense stare, adjusting slightly under the pressure.

Finally, you looked up at him, and leaned forward on your desk so more of your chest was visible. On purpose. He cleared his throat, making several students glance at him, and you had to make yourself bite back a smirk.

Everyone dropped their quizzes on his desk, leaving once they finished. You were the last one done, and you set yours on top of the pile.

“Would you like to finish our conversation from Monday in my office?” Professor Barnes asked you calmly, and you nodded.

He walked behind you, making you lead the way to his office. You knew he was staring at your ass, barely covered by the dress you wore, and you turned as you heard the office door close behind you.

You dropped your bag and hopped up to sit on top of his desk. He tossed his own bag aside and clicked the lock on his door, letting his eyes slowly move over your body.

“Y/N, what am I going to do to you? You wore this slutty little dress to distract me, didn’t you?” He teased, walking to stand in front of you.

“Yes, professor. Do you like it?” You looked up at him for approval, and his small laugh graced your ears.

His fingers went to the thin straps resting on top of your shoulders, grazing down over your breasts before tweaking your nipples through the thin fabric.

You squealed softly, feeling chills throughout your body as he lightly pinched you, toying with you through the dress.

“Are you sensitive, doll?” He asked, and you nodded, your cheeks rosy at your eagerness.

“I’ve been thinking about you, and not been able to do anything about it, and I’m all pent up.” You offered an explanation for your sensitivity, and his eyes nearly rolled back from the innocent way you spoke to him. He wanted to absolutely tear you up and ruin you, and make you fall apart at his touch.

“Let’s see if I can help then,” he slipped the straps off of your shoulders, the dress falling down around your waist.

At the sight of your bare chest in front of him, an audible noise of need left his throat. Your professor knelt down in front of you, wrapping his lips around your sensitive skin. Your chest rose and fell quickly with your heavy breathing, and his hand squeezed and fondled the side that wasn’t in his mouth.

“Please!” You were nearly desperate, feeling your arousal begin to drip down your thighs as you grew more and more needy.

“Tell me what you want, doll.”

“I need you to fuck me,” you didn’t care about the embarrassment anymore, and he smiled as he left heavy kisses down the column of your throat.

He couldn’t draw out the teasing anymore. He was painfully hard and the sight of you alone and your filthy words were driving him wild.

You had managed to undo the buttons of his shirt, revealing an incredibly toned chest, and he undid his belt, pulling it easily from the loops. He snapped it as he tossed it aside, and you jumped at the noise, making him smirk.

“Maybe we can try that another time,” he watched an anticipatory shudder ripple down your spine.

“Do I get an A for this?” You teased, undoing the button and zip on his pants, tugging them down along with his underwear.

“Very cute,” he smacked your thigh lightly in response, making you jerk at the touch.

He slipped the dress over your head, discarding it along with his own clothing, leaving you in just lace panties on his desk.

He traced his fingertips over the damp lace, making you squirm on the desktop. You rolled your hips forward, eager for stimulation. He hummed disapprovingly at the action, pulling his touch away.

His hands held your waist as he carefully laid you down on the cleared wooden desktop, and you looked up at the stunning man above you.

“Please don’t tease me anymore, professor. I want you to fuck my pussy, please,” you begged, and he removed the lace in one quick movement.

“Relax, doll, I’m going to take care of you,” James answered gently, kissing down your body.

He hands wrapped around your thighs and he pulled you so that you were at the edge of the desk, your feet on top of the surface so you were spread open for him.

He leaned down and connected your lips, consuming you in a deep kiss. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers lightly began to rub at your clit, making sure you were relaxed enough to take him in.

“I need you to be quiet beautiful, so all the students outside don’t hear those pretty screams for me.” He warned, kissing a line down your jaw.

“Yes, sir.”

“Fuck.”

You felt him brush his tip against your entrance before thrusting into you, and you struggled to adjust around him as he bottomed out. You held in a loud cry, arching your back, and pushing your chest up into his face as you did so.

Your breath hitched as he rocked into you, and he thrusted a bit faster, hitting all the deep places inside of you. He watched you struggle to ground yourself, your hands eventually holding his thick arms as he slammed into you repeatedly. You were smooth and tight around him, squeezing and contracting as he hit your g-spot.

“James, fuck,” the profanity tumbled from your pretty lips as his hips connected with yours. He wrapped a hand around your throat, keeping you down but not quite choking you.

The action caused you to spasm around him, and your hands wrapped around his wrist, keeping his hand around your neck.

“Do you like that? Do you like me holding you down by your throat? You dirty girl.”

“Yes,” you breathed softly under his grip, your thighs trembling weakly around his waist. You started to shake as waves of pleasure overwhelmed your body. 

“Are you close?” He knew the answer, but he enjoyed seeing you fight to try to form words through the fucked-out haze that had settled in your mind.

“Answer me doll, or I’m going to stop,” James threatened, and you nodded.

“Yes, I’m so close!” Your soft whine was like music to him, and he dropped his free hand between the two of you.

He kept up his thrusts while playing with your clit, trying to pull your orgasm from you. He could feel your muscles tighten and threaten to snap around him, and you just needed a little help letting go. You were begging him softly, your eyes bleary as you cried for release. James wanted to feel you come around him, and was more than happy to help, squeezing lightly around your throat and pinching your nerves, the combination causing the pressure to snap. Your vision sparkled with color, electricity shooting through every nerve ending in your body. You threw your head back from the pleasure, and a hard thrust into your g-spot sent you spiraling into euphoria.

You came around him with a silent scream, and he struggled not to follow suit, and fill up your warm pussy. He released you as he felt you ride out the end of your orgasm, and he pulled out, coming all over your torso in several white ribbons.

You watched him in a daze, and once he finished, he gave you another quick kiss. You sighed softly, exhaustion starting to set in. His gentle smile made warmth spread over your body, and for a moment you forgot that you were lying naked on top of his desk.

He cleaned himself before cleaning you up, being gentle with you.

“Y’alright?” James asked, smiling at your soft yawn. You nodded, pulling the lace back up your legs and reaching for your dress. He handed it to you once you sat up, and helped you fix it.

Your fingers slipped the buttons of his shirt back in their holes, despite the fact that your hands were still a bit shaky. You felt all worn out, feeling like you could sleep for days and ride the dreamy feeling that was left in your mind.

He couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at his lips as you held his arm when you stood up, trying to steady yourself. You looked up at him shyly, and he placed his hand on your lower back.

“For the next time.” Professor Barnes said, putting his number in your phone before giving you a kiss. 

[edengarden]

What do you think is the one thing someone could say to Nanami, Haru, Toji and Getou that would get them to immediately blush? ╰(*´︶`*)╯

Nanami

I'm gonna be real, i'm trying to think of something and,, i seriously can't.

you'd have to be creative as FUCK in your praise. it has to be something sweet, either the way you word it, or just the thing you praise him for, it has to be original, never heard of before. but not weird

maybe something about the way he looks so gorgeous when the sun hits him in the morning, or how hardworking he is, that he's someone you look up to; your own personal idol

saying he'd blush is a little far-fetched, but his heart definitely skips a beat. especially since it's coming from you

Haru

anything suggestive. he's a virgin after all

but also soft praises.

"you're such a pretty boy" and "you're my little angel, you know that?" they did a number on him the first time you used it

buddy hasn't gotten affection since his parents (did he even have any? any good ones? we dont know dude), so it catches him off-guard and he's very much flustered by it

Toji

in soviet russia (and everywhere else) you don't fluster toji, toji flusters you

compliment anything that isn't physical appearance or potential

mention his mind, how beautiful you think it is and how the way it works intrigues you. mention how you love when he does this specific thing (that most likely just ends up being a little quirk of his he's never noticed until you pointed it out)

he's red, but will still try to get you back by flustering you so you don't notice him slippin

Geto

oh man, oh man, oh man.

confess your devotion to him. show him that you'd follow him to the ends of the world. the image of having you by his side unconditionally makes him blush because it comes hand in hand with the idea of marrying you

big ass softie, he smiles so sweetly at you when you say things like that

"no matter what you choose, i'll be by your side honey" that gets his heart racing so much, he's ready to just melt into a puddle for you right about now

[jewlwpet]

Everyone starts laughing here, and Patty covers her face to hide her blushing.

But she's relieved to find that Rolley is in the class too.

Also one of the classmates' shirts--isn't the Soviet flag, but looks weirdly similar to it, which is funny.

Ikuhara was assistant director for this episode btw.

[justanotherconfusedman]

Here's something none of you ever needed to read in your life! Soviet x America, right before they fuck. It's very obvious and I literally write at the end, and then they fuxk. It's actually sweet because it's at the lovers part of their Enemies to lovers phase.

Anyways, let me curse your eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

America was trying to pull off his shirt, he knew it was too small and it had been gripping his chest all day but the looks Soviet had been giving him were worth it. All those glances towards his body and trying to pretend he wasn't looking, it was incredibly obvious and Hilarious. America was honestly ready to see just how much he's riled up Soviet that day.

The shirt wouldn't come off.

America pushes more hit his shoulders and arms were stuck leaving him blind and stuck with his arms up, he knew where his bed was and flopped onto it, hoping that would help but his arms stayed stuck around his head with the shirt on it.

There was a knock on the door, "You okay dear?" Soviet.

"Yeah, can you help me get this shirt off?"

There was the sound of Soviet entering the room and getting behind America. "I don't know dear, you've been looking nice all day, you mind if I take you here and now~?"

America blushed like, shit Soviet was dominant today and it would be cool for a change of pace, but also his shirt was still stuck over his eyes.

"Sure, but only after I can see your hot face."

"Sounds good."

Then they fucked

[typical-simplelove]

I'll Always Fly Back Home to You - 40s AU (R. Hintz)

Summary: With the threat of a Soviet Union invasion, the Hintz family moves to America to escape death and war. What happens when Roope moves in next door to you?

Series Masterlist

A/n: This is the fourth installment and one of the best things I've ever written, I believe. This fic exists in the same universe in the Jamie Oleksiak fic that comes later on. I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: mentions of war, death, breaking up, the Soviet Union (?), suggestive photos

Word Count: 9.1k

November 20, 1939

You could do this. Yeah, you could. All you had to do was bring a tray of cookies to the new neighbors next door. This was going to be simple, right? Introduce yourself, offer any help, give them the cookies, and welcome them to the neighborhood. You walk over to their house, and you instantly catch a whiff of something that smells amazing. You walk up the steps and knock on the door. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t the person who opened the door.

“Hi, my name is Yn, and I live next door,” you begin after overcoming the initial shock. “My mom is also the one who works for the agency you and your family used to come here.”

“Oh, hi Yn,” this boy tells you. He was really cute, you thought to yourself. “My name is --”

“Mrs. Yln, thank you so much for coming,” someone interrupts. “I was going to ring you up. Can you help us figure out how to use the oven?”

“Mom, this is her daughter, yn,” the boy who answered the door corrects. He gives you a smile and your face warms under his gaze.

“Oh you’re right. Yn, forgive me, please. Roope, welcome her in, please.”

So his name is Roope.

“Come on in?” Roope asks.

“Oh, sure. I made cookies for you guys as a welcome gift.”

“Thank you, so much,” Roope’s mother gushes. “I hate to ask, but do you know how to use the oven?”

“Maybe? I mean, I had to use the oven in order to bake these cookies.” You walk over to the oven and notice that it’s exactly like yours. You begin to explain how it works and strike up a conversation with Roope’s mother who tells you to call her Mrs. Hintz. You learned that the Hintz family immigrated from Finland because of the aggression of the Soviet Union. Most of the extended family was able to immigrate over and are now spread across the Dallas area.

You left about an hour after you arrived happy that your mother sent you to welcome the new family.

. . .

. . .

The next morning, you were walking out the door to go to the grocery store. It was a morning out of a novel. The sun was out shining and the temperature wasn’t too hot or too cold. It was absolutely perfect. There was dew sitting on the grass, and it seemed like a day full of potential. You walk out of your lawn and turn right; incidentally, you’d have to go past the Hintz house. You are about to pass their walkway when you hear someone call out to you.

“Yn,” you turn around and see Roope walking out the door towards you. You stop and smile and wait for him. “Where are you headed?”

“The grocery store, you?”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Go with her,” Roope’s mother yells from the door. “She knows where to go; you don’t.”

You smile and look at Roope. A soft blush is now covering his face; you laugh softly. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Is that okay? I have no idea where I’m going.”

You laugh at his comment. “Of course. It is my job as a neighbor to help you assimilate to the town best you can.”

Roope looks at you. “And I thought you wanted to be my first friend here.”

“I can do that as well, if you’d like.”

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you in any way..”

“I doubt that being friends would inconvenience me, Roope.”

“You say that now, but, let me tell you, you might regret that sentence one day,” Roope says and winks at you. You feel the warmth reach your face as you look away bashfully. What was it with Roope?

. . .

In the days that followed your trip to the grocery store, a budding friendship blossomed. One day, you walked to your backyard to escape the rowdiness of your sisters and brothers. Sometimes, all you needed was to just leave for a bit.

You walk to the edge of your backyard where there is a giant tree that sits on both your family’s property and the Hintz property. You walk out and see Roope sitting under the tree. Opting not to bother him, you turn around and walk away. You thought that Roope didn’t see you; however, when he calls out to you, you know he saw you.

“You’re allowed to sit under the tree, too, yn,” Roope tells you as you sit.

“Yeah, I know,” you begin. “I just didn’t want to disturb you. I’m not sure why you’re sitting under the tree.”

“Well, don’t worry. You can sit. Why do you want to sit here?”

“Because you told me I could.”

Roope laughs. “That’s not what I meant.”

You smile at him. “Yeah, I knew that. No, I come out here at nights to get away from the loud and rowdy behavior of my family. Why are you out here?”

“Because you come out here often.”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “So, you notice when I sit out here?”

Roope blushes under your words and the sunset behind you. “My bedroom faces the tree here, and I always see you.”

“So, you decided to come and sit with me?”

“I can leave if you want.”

“No, Roope, I’m only teasing. You can stay.”

“Maybe we can make a habit out of this.”

“How so?” you question.

“This can be our escape. You can escape from your family, and I can escape from the prying eyes of my family.”

“Yeah? Let’s do that. I like that idea.”

Roope smiles at you. He was starting not to mind the move to the US.

. . .

December 1, 1939

“Hey, Roope?”

“Yes, Yn.”

“The other day, you said that you wanted to escape the prying eyes of your family. What did you mean by that?”

Roope sighed heavily and you instantly felt bad. “They aren’t sure if I’m happy here. I mean, I am. We are safe and alive which is more than many can say considering the invasion.”

“But it’s hard being new.”

Roope nods. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy with the friends I made, and you, but sometimes I miss where we lived.”

You nod. “So, that’s why you want an escape.”

“Mhm, but not the only reason.”

“What’s the other reason?” you ask inquisitively.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. Don’t worry.” How was Roope supposed to tell you that his family wants him to ask you out but don’t realize that the two of you were just friends? He didn’t want anything else but a friendship with you. His family couldn’t understand that.

“Oh, okay. Well, is there anything I can do to help you with homesickness you’re feeling?”

Roope smiles at your concern. “Just be my friend?”

You smile at him. “That I can do.”

. . .

June 14, 1940

“Did you see?” you say to Roope as you walk up to him where he’s sitting under the tree.

“I mean, I can see what’s in front of me,” Roope teases.

“Haha very funny. No, did you see that the Germans are marching into Paris?” you sit down next to him and he puts an arm around you.

“Yeah, I saw that.”

“Are you worried?” you ask. Roope knows you well enough that you’re only asking because you’re worried and want reassurance.

“It depends. On the fate of the Parisians? Yeah, I’m terrified for them. On another war? I mean, it’s already started. What are you worried about?”

“Probably another war because that means that the people I love will be enlisting. You, my brothers, cousins, friends. It’s just worrisome.”

Roope begins stroking your arm in an attempt to try to calm your nerves. “Well, I promise you, that I’ll always find my way back home to you. Whether it be flying, driving, running, walking, or skating. I’ll be by your side.”

You look up at Roope and your eyes meet his. You always felt safe in his embrace and knew that he wasn’t lying. He’ll always find a way back home to you.

. . .

September 19, 1940 - the US Congress passes the Selective Service Act

“Well, I guess we can’t escape war, Roope. I mean, you knew that.”

“How so?”

“You are the same person that moved to the US from Finland because of the Soviet Union, right?” you joke lightly.

“Oh, right. Yeah. So, your brothers are enlisting?”

You nod. “Only the older ones. My younger brother is a bit too young, but he’ll be enlisting after his nineteenth birthday in a few months. What about you?”

“Not right now. They told me that I should wait until war was declared because I’m not a US-born citizen.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah, look, let’s forget about the worries of the world for right now, okay? My mother made some cookies, and I brought some out. Let’s just relax and live in our own bubble, okay?” Roope says to you as he offers you a cookie.

“Okay,” you nod and take a cookie that Roope is offering to you. “Oh, these are good.”

“I mean, they aren’t as good as the ones you made for us when we first moved in, but sure.”

“You remember those?” you ask comically.

“Of course I remember those! A pretty girl showing up at my doorstep offering us cookies? Kind of hard to forget. A pretty girl who is quite young that my mother mistakes as being the girl's mother? Even more memorable.”

You laugh audibly remembering the memory. “You know, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t you.”

Roope gives you a look of mock offence. “What does that mean?”

“I wasn’t expecting someone my age; I was expecting a family with young children that I could babysit or watch not you and your family.”

“Do you wish I was younger?”

“Absolutely not. Who else would be my best friend?”

Roope smiles at you and pulls you into his embrace. Best friends forever, they said.

. . .

October 28, 1940 - the Italians invade Greece

On a normal October day, you always made sure to have a sweater on you in the event you grew chilly. However, today, you forgot. By the time you walked into the backyard, your arms were cold, and you wanted to turn around. You were running late to meet Roope, though. You decided that if you got sick, then it’d be fine.

“You’re late,” Roope tells you from across the backyard. If you didn’t know him so well, you would have thought he was mad. However, you knew better.

“Yeah, I know, sorry. My sister wanted to go to the cinema, and she picked a long movie.”

“How was it?” Roope asks you as you sit down.

“Pretty good, I liked it. If you want to go see it, I’d definitely go and see it with you.”

Roope smiles at you and wraps his arm around you but flinches the moment he touches you. “Yn, why is your arm so cold?”

“Oh, I’m cold; it’s fine, though.”

Roope immediately shakes his head and begins shrugging off his jacket for you. “Here.”

“Roope, no.”

“Yn, yes. You’re cold, and I’m not. Just take it.”

You look at him and see that there’s a red tint coating his cheeks. Huh, you wonder what that’s about. “Fine, but only because I’m cold.”

“Why else would you take my jacket?”

“I, okay, whatever,” you deflect. What were you supposed to say? Giving a girl your jacket was what boyfriends did not friends.

When you and Roope both said goodnight that night, you walked towards your house and were about to step inside when you realized you were still wearing his jacket. You were about to turn around but you hear Roope call out to you.

“Keep it, it looks better on you, anyways.”

You laugh. The coat sat on the hook in your bedroom; you looked at it each morning and smiled at the memory of your best friend.

. . .

April 13, 1941 - Japan and the Soviet Union sign a neutrality pact.

“How was your date last night?” you ask Roope when you’re both settled under the tree.

He shrugs.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, I mean, she was nice. It was nice. I walked her home, but she told me that she didn’t want to see me again as on a date.”

“Oh, did you want me to talk to her?”

“No, that’s okay.”

“Do you think you know why she doesn’t want to see you again?”

“Not sure, probably something along the lines of there just isn’t a spark.”

“Did you want me to vouch for you? Tell her how amazing you are?”

Roope laughs. “No, don’t worry about it.” He wasn’t going to let you talk to her because she told Roope that it wasn’t fair for him to be dating other women when he was in love with you. Roope denied it, but as he walked home that night, he realized she was right. Roope was in love with you, his best friend. The first person he met when he moved to Dallas. He loved you. The one person who would probably only ever see him as a friend.

. . .

December 6, 1941

You were sitting under the tree reading a book while you waited for Roope one evening. It was a chilly evening, and you were starting to get cold. You contemplated going inside and getting a jacket, his jacket. However, when you saw Roope exit from his back porch, you decided against it. Anyways, the warmth that filled you by seeing your best friend made you forget about the cold.

“Hey,” you say to him as you close your book.

“Hey, ynn,” he says to you. “This is for you from my mom. She was going through some of her old stuff and found this. No one else wanted it, so I thought that you might like it.”

“Oh, wow, just giving me things your family doesn’t want anymore.”

Roope laughs at your teasing remark. “No, I didn’t know about it until before dinner, and mom asked if I wanted it. I obviously don’t but that doesn’t mean I don’t think you will.”

“What is it?” you ask, taking the box from his hands.

“Why don’t you just open it?”

“Wow, sassy. I wasn’t expecting that tonight.”

“Just open the box.”

“Fine,” you retort and open the box. You gasp and look at Roope. “I can’t take this.”

“Yes, you can. I think you will have a better use for it then the cabinet shelf in the basement.”

“But, it must have been so expensive. Don’t you want to keep it in the family?”

“You are family, yn.”

“I mean blood family, Roope,” you say. He has given you the most stunning teapot you have ever seen.

“If my mother wasn’t okay with me giving it to you, then she would’ve said something.”

“What about your aunts?”

“Same. They all think we’re going to get married one day, so what’s the point if it’s going to be back in our family again.”

You look up at Roope, and you have a weird feeling in your stomach that you can’t explain. Did you want to marry Roope? No, you were both just friends, right? “Well, too bad we aren’t going to be getting married.”

“Yeah, too bad.” You were surprised with the tone that Roope had in his voice. Was he feeling the same conflicting feelings you were?

“Well, thank your mother for me. This is beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it, Roope, thank you!”

“Of course, anything for you.” And, he’d do anything for you.

. . .

December 11th, 1941 - Germany and Italy declare war on the United States

After getting the teapot from Roope a few days ago, you decided to bring lemon squares to the Hintz household to thank them. You pack them into a tray and head out the door. You walk over to the Hintz house and knock on the door. Roope’s mother opens the door for you and wraps you into a large hug and begins to sob.

“Mrs. Hintz, are you okay?” you ask clearly knowing she isn’t.

“I’m not sure. Oh, come in, come in. Roope’s not here right now.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m here to see you, actually. I made lemon squares to thank you for the teapot. It’s beautiful, and I love it.”

“I’m glad, sweetheart.”

“Um, Mrs. Hintz?” you ask cautiously. She looks at you, and you know it’s safe for you to continue. “May I ask why you were crying?”

“Oh,” she says and the tears slowly start again. “Roope went to the navy offices to enlist. He’s going to war, and he’s going to be a navy pilot. You obviously knew that though because he tells you everything.”

The heat drains from your face. Roope was going off to war. You knew that eventually this would happen as your two older brothers went to bootcamp a few months ago and your younger brother’s number came up just yesterday. However, you weren’t expecting for Roope to be enlisting right away. It made sense, though, considering that the Soviets invaded his home. The one thing, though, that’s sticking out to you is that Mrs. Hintz thinks that you knew. This means that he definitely made the decision without talking to anyone, even you. “No, I didn’t know that, but he’s doing what he feels is best, right?”

“I know that, it’s just going to hurt when he leaves.”

You nod. “Did you want me to make some tea, and we can have the lemon squares I made?”

“Would that be okay?” she asks.

You smile. “More than okay.”

Roope enlisting is not your sadness to be felt. You were going to help his family in any way you could.

. . .

December 15th, 1941

“Do you miss home?” you asked Roope. Roope never not talked about his time back home, but he also wasn’t the most open about it. You never pried and you never asked for more. You were willing to just take as much information as he would give you.

“Like my bedroom?” Roope asks.

You laugh and Roope smiles at you. There was something about your laugh that made Roope melt. “No, like Finland.”

“Oh,” Roope’s smile fades and you instantly feel bad for bringing it up. “I miss some of the older extended family that couldn’t come with us and some friends, but I’m not sure about the rest of it.”

You nod. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m happy that you’re here.”

“You are the best thing that came out of my move to the States,” Roope tells you and you feel the warmth spread to your face. “Yn, I have something to tell you. You might not like what I have to say.”

You knew what he was talking about; his mother told you. “You’re joining the navy and are going to be a navy pilot.”

Roope sits up and looks at you. The two of you were laying down under the large tree in your backyard. “How did you know that?”

“Your mother told me.”

Roope laughs sarcastically and shakes his head. “Of course she did, when you brought the lemon squares?”

You nod. “She was crying when I went over, and she told me. Don’t be mad at her.”

“I’m not, don’t worry. Did you cry too?”

“No, I didn’t,” you say but your voice wobbles. Roope looks at you and puts his hands on your cheeks to catch any tears that might fall.

Roope smiles at you; he looks like he’s contemplating something. He looks down at your lips and you feel the warmth rush to your face again. “Can I kiss you, yn?”

You nod. “Yeah, please kiss me.”

He leans down and gently places his lips on yours. The kiss lasted for a few seconds, but it’s enough for you to know you don’t want to kiss anyone else ever again. When you both pull away, you stare into each other’s eyes, and you know you’ve made a tremendous shift in your relationship. No longer were you and Roope good friends. No, now you were two people who finally realized their feelings after a few years. You know that there was no one else for you, and you hoped that Roope felt the same.

“Can I kiss you again?” Roope eagerly asks. He wants nothing in the world except to kiss you again but doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries.

“Of course.”

He kisses you again, and you’re pretty sure you melt. How could just one touch make you so happy and giddy and excited at the same time? This time, the kiss is longer, and you both deepen the kiss not wanting to separate. You couldn’t be without him and he without you.

“About time,” your sister yells from the porch. You pull away from Roope and giggle.

“I guess so,” you say to Roope and he smiles back at you.

. . .

The days leading up to when Roope was set to go to bootcamp were spent together. You both tried to fit years of couple things into three days. It was hard. You both knew that navy pilots were one of the most dangerous positions in the military, and they might not make it home.

On the day that Roope was set to leave, he asked his family to go to the train station on their own so that you and him could walk together. How romantic, you thought, despite the circumstances.

“Do you promise to write to me?” Roope asks before he’s about to get on the train.

You smile. “Of course, silly. I’ll write to you all the time that you’ll ask me to stop.”

“I highly doubt that,” Roope tells you and kisses you. “Goodbye, my love.”

“Goodbye, Roope,” you tell him with tears in your eyes. “Fly back home to me?”

Roope smiles and kisses your forehead. “I’ll always fly back home to you.” He gives you one last kiss and picks up his bag and walks away. He turns around one last time to wave. His last thought is wondering if this’ll be the last time he sees your face.

. . .

Dear Roope,

This letter might take a while to get to you, but you knew that. Now that you’re overseas, it might take a bit for my letters to come to you. Let me tell you, though, just because they are further apart or might take some time doesn’t mean I’m going to stop. Why would I? Why would I ever stop writing to the man I love? I hope I’m not jumping to any conclusions by telling you I love you because I do. I think I always did. The minute you moved in next door, I think I fell for you. It just took some time for me to realize how I felt. Let’s be glad that we finally realized, right?

Did you know that my sister is getting married? She is settling down with her childhood sweetheart. Isn’t that so romantic? Can you imagine marrying your childhood sweetheart? I have a question. Feel free to ignore this question. Did you have someone you loved back home? Did you love her and think you’ll marry her? If you don’t want to answer, feel free not to. I’m just curious. You don’t often talk about your life before moving to the US, and I just want to know more. Care to share? Please? How about for the woman who loves you to pieces?

What's flying like? You don’t have to tell me where you’re flying over or anything like that. Just tell me, is it beautiful? Have you touched a cloud? Is the sun just absolutely beautiful? Is looking at the ground from the sky put everything in perspective?

Fly back home to me, right?

With love all the way from Dallas,

Yn

Dearest Yn,

Just know, I love every letter you write to me even if they are weeks apart. I don’t care. Any letter makes me so happy. Some of the other members in my company always make fun of me for having a girl I love, but I don’t care. Mail call is always the best part of my day because I get to hear from you. The anticipation I feel is unbelievable. And no, it’s not too presumptuous to tell me you love me because guess what? I love you, too! More than you could possibly know. The minute I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were special. Every time I saw you and we hung out, my heart always had this weird feeling. I thought it was just nerves of being in a new country or having a new friend. However, as the months went on and I got to know you, the feeling didn’t go away. It took for a war to be declared for me to make a move and tell you I loved you and not just in a best friend's way. I hope that’s not too presumptuous, but, then again, you did say it first.

Send my congratulations to your sister from me. That must be awfully romantic for childhood sweethearts to be falling in love and getting married. And now, to answer your question. Let me quote you first. You said “did you have someone you loved back home?” Let me tell you, you are that girl back home. Home is in Dallas now because it’s where my family is and where you are. You are that girl back home that I dream about marrying one day. I know that you mean in Finland, and, let me tell you, no, there was never anyone who I loved as much as I love you. You are the girl back home that I want to marry one day. As for stories from Finland, what do you want to know?

Flying is beautiful. To answer you questions: it’s absolutely beautiful (but not as much as you). No, I haven’t touched a cloud. Just so you know, I’m not sticking my hand outside the window or cockpit in order to do that. From that far up, the sun is still bright, so I’m not sure if it’s beautiful. I try not to stare at it. However, if you’re talking about the sun in my life, then it’s beautiful because you are the sun and center of my life. Looking at the ground truly does put it into perspective. It makes me realize how much I want to be with you when this hellish war is over.

I’ll always fly back home to you.

With love from the sky,

Roope.

Dear Roope,

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. Oh, you want me to say it again? Gladly. I love you, Roope Hintz, and I can’t wait to spend every single day with you after this war. Getting my letters is the best part of your day, huh? Maybe I should send more to boost your morale. (or maybe something a little bit more suggestive? Actually, no, my mother would kill me if I did that and considering I still live in her house, nope. Sorry.). I’m glad, though, that you have something to look forward to everyday. I can’t imagine what it must be like over there. If you want (and can) please do share. I want to hear about everything. You don’t even have to tell me about the combat or any of that stuff. How about what you do on your days off? Who are the men in your unit? Tell me all about any friends you made. I’m not sure where you are because, you know, classified and all, but tell me, have you been able to see any of the sights? How beautiful are they? I don’t care what you tell me; I just want to read about what you’re doing because I miss you so much. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t head to the backyard to wait for you. Everyday. Like clockwork. I go to where our backyards meet and wait. It always takes me a moment to realize that you’re not coming to meet me and it makes me sad. Just know that I think about you all the time.

My sister is grateful for your congratulations to her. She told me to tell you that she is expecting our wedding next and that you should get on it, Roope. I only laughed at her. I’m sure you have other things going on in your life, so don’t worry! A wedding can wait. All I want is that you one day promise to love me for all my life because I promise to love you all my life.

Finland. What do I want to know about your life in Finland? How about, what did your house look like? Is it anything like where your family lives now in Dallas? What did your bedroom look like? Is it similar to your room here? What did you do in your free time? I want to know it all, Roope. Everything there is to know.

Your words about me being the girl back home? Melted my heart. I reread them every night before I go to bed. I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Roope. I guess it takes a war for your true romantic side to come out. Well, you’re my guy overseas that I’m waiting for.

Flying sounds so beautiful. Maybe, one day, you could take me up with you? But for now, I just have to experience flying through your words.

Fly back home to me?

Love,

Yn

Dear Yn,

I’d write how much I love but then I’d be writing for all of time and we wouldn’t want that, right? If that were the case, then I’d never win this war and come home to you! Even then, I wouldn’t be able to ever spend time with you. Because you asked, let me tell you about some of the other pilots in my unit. My CO (commanding officer) is Tyler Seguin, and he’s great. Believe it or not, there are two other men who are also from Finland. They moved away at a young age so not as recently as me but still. Esa and Miro. It’s nice having people to talk to about Finland who have a slight inkling about what I’m talking about. There are other guys in my unit - Jamie Oleksiak, Denis Gurianov, Ben Bishop, and more. This unit is like a family, and I hope that they get to meet you one day. Actually, not Jamie Oleksiak. I feel like he has the charm and looks to take you away from me. However, he has a Red Cross worker that he’s absolutely in love with who wants nothing to do with him, so maybe not that much of a threat. On my days off, I normally just hang around the base. I often reread you letters to me and it almost makes up for me not being by your side each day. Sometimes I’ll venture into town and go for walks or to a local restaurant. Before you ask again, yes, I have seen some of the sights. I’ve seen some beautiful, grand buildings that are just so beautiful. I hope, one day, I can bring you back here to show you the beauty. There might be a war but the beauty and glamour are still there. Some of the palaces or mansions are just beautiful but not as much as you! Sometimes I’ll go for a walk and see a big tree and I will sit under it thinking you’re going to join me. Every day at the time we would normally meet, I always take a step outside, if possible, and just sit there thinking about you. Because of the time difference, it’s probably early afternoon for you but know that there is not a day that goes by without me thinking about you, darling. (Don’t feel the need to send me anything suggestive; I’d rather your parents not have a negative opinion of me one day if I am to be their son-in-law. We all know that I’ll be doing worse things to you once we get married. How else are babies made?)

You can tell your sister that a wedding can be arranged the minute she can get Hitler to surrender. If she can manage that, then I’ll marry you the minute I touch Dallas soil and can get you into my arms. Better yet! Why don’t I meet you at the church and we just get married right away?

My house in Finland was slightly smaller than my family’s house in Dallas. It wasn’t painted the vibrant yellow like in Dallas; it was a beige hue that was fairly bland. I far prefer the color of the house in Dallas because it’s the same color as your house and reminds me of you. Whenever I see something yellow, I always think of you. Most things in the world that I see go back to you. My bedroom in Finland? Pretty bland and similar to the one back in Dallas. When we made the trip, we only carried what we could so many of the posters or books I had stayed there. I did get to keep a few mementos; however, I’d rather fill a home with memories and mementos of you and our relationship. My free time? Same as before. I did play more hockey, however. There aren’t many frozen ponds in Dallas, but it’s okay. Playing on the road with the neighbors is fun! Maybe I should get you to play. What do you say?

My darling yn, you should know that I can be awfully romantic. I used to charm all the girls back in Finland. Actually, that’s a lie. You’re the only one. Maybe I should be more romantic. Just wait and see, my love, I’m going to be so romantic that you’re going to get sick of it! You’ll forever be the girl I’m going home to! When asked about if I have anyone back home, it’s always you. No one else. I guess my family, but you’re always first.

With love from the sky,

Roope

. . .

August 14, 1943

Roope took to the sky as normal one morning. Mail call was just before his scheduled time to fly, so he saved your letter for later. Flying over occupied France was always dangerous, and Roope’s CO told the unit to make sure that their wills were in check for the worst case scenario. The men were expecting the worst, so it’s only important they prepared for the worst.

After flying for twenty minutes, Nazi fighter pilots began shooting at Roope and his men. To his right, Roope’s wingman went down. He didn’t see a parachute which likely means he didn’t make it out. This really shocked Roope. He knew that there was a possibility that he might die or his friends. However, this was the first time that someone so close to Roope died. It could have easily been him.

Once he touched down, Roope headed to his barracks to read your letter. Only your letters could shake away the horrors of war.

Dearest Roope,

How are you, darling?

He read the first six words, and he instantly broke down. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t keep writing to you when he knew that he’d be dying next. It didn’t matter if he loved you more than anyone or anything in the world. It didn’t matter if he had been sending money back to his mother to put aside so that he can buy you a ring. None of it mattered if he died and you were heartbroken. Nothing mattered. Roope knew that he was going to be gone soon; it was part of the job being in the military but especially a pilot. There was only one thing he could do: he had to let you go.

Dear Yn,

It pains me to write this; however, just know that I love you. I’m doing this because I love you. I think that you should stop writing to me. I believe that it will be easier for you when I’m gone if we weren’t in contact. You should be out and having fun. You should be the young woman in your twenties doing things young women do. You should be going on dates, going out dancing, and not writing to a pilot whose life is short. It pains me to write this. Please, forgive me. I’m doing this because I love you. I love you so much that I want you to be happy when I’m gone. Please, I’m sorry. Forgive me.

With all my love,

Roope.

He sealed up the short letter into an envelope, wrote your address and put a stamp on it immediately. He knew that he would regret this later on, but he knew that it was for the best. He knew that you were going to write him one last letter asking him to change his mind. He wasn’t going to. Roope was doing this because he loved you. There was nothing else. He couldn’t fathom the idea that he might die in combat one day, and you’ll never move on because you dreamed of marrying him. He couldn’t. That would be so much worse than dying. He loved you so much that letting you go was what was for the best. Roope walked to the post office; he took a deep breath and gave the mail person his letter.

Now, he was awaiting your letter that would absolutely break his heart.

. . .

You received his letter three weeks after he sent it. You opened your mailbox and smiled widely to see it. You sat on the porch swing with your sister, heavily pregnant, sitting next to you. You carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. At first glance, the letter looked really small, but you didn’t think anything of it. He was fighting a war; it makes sense if his letters weren’t as long as yours.

You read the first line, and you felt the tears begin to fall down your face. Did he find someone else? Did he not love you anymore? Deciding to ignore your thoughts, you decide to continue to read.

No, this was so much worse than Roope finding someone else. This was the worst. No, he was telling you to stop writing to him.

You finish the letter and cry out. Your sister looks up next to you. She grabs the letter out of your hand and begins reading. She briefly skims it but understands the overall message. Roope wanted you to stop writing to him; he wanted you to stop talking to him. Roope was letting you go. Your sister wraps her arm around you and begins to console you. You brush her off, excuse yourself, and run to your bedroom. How could Roope do this to you? Does he not understand that it didn’t matter what happened? You would always love him no matter what? You instantly pull out a sheet of stationary and begin to write your reply. You knew that he asked you not to write to him, but you felt he should know the pain he was putting you through.

It took you four times to finally put words to paper.

Dear Roope,

I know that you asked me not to write to you, but I feel like you should know how much you are breaking my heart. I apologize that this paper is tear-stained. I was going to write it without the tear-stains, but I feel that you should be able to see firsthand the pain and heartbreak you’re putting me through because you are the cause of it. How could you feel that this is any better? Is this what you wanted? For me to be crying in my bedroom? Did you see me being okay with your letter? Am I supposed to be okay with the fact that you don’t care enough about how I feel? Just so you know, I love you more than anything in the world. So, tell me, how does me crying in my bedroom and getting over heartbreak equal what you wanted? You tell me you want me to stop writing to you and enjoy my evenings as a young woman. How am I supposed to do that when I’m sitting here with a broken heart? The idea of me going out tomorrow? No, nonexistent. You hurt me and I don’t want to do anything. Just the idea of being with someone else makes me sad and sick. Is this what you wanted? For me to be heartbroken?

Do you remember what you told me the day you left? You told me that you would always fly back home to me. Always. You added that always. What happened to that?

Let me say one last thing: who are you to tell me what I want? I think I am perfectly capable of knowing who or what I want.

Yn

You were angry now. How dare Roope assume he knows what you want? Why can’t he understand that you love him and would do anything for him? Why would he do this to you? You angrily seal up the letter and add a stamp. You set it on your dresser to be put in the mailbox the next morning. What were you going to do now? What do you do when the person who you love more than anything in the world doesn’t care for you anymore? What do you do when the person who you’ve been dreaming about marrying says he can’t give you the same thing? Why would he do this to you?

. . .

Roope isn’t surprised to see your letter. He knows you; he knows you well enough that you definitely gave him a piece of your mind. However, what he wasn’t expecting was to see a tear-stained letter. It immediately breaks his heart knowing that he is probably the cause of your tears. Roope can’t read the letter in front of his friends, so he walks into the barracks. They’d be disappointed in him. They’d tell Roope that he was being an idiot. He was head over heels hopelessly in love with you, so why would he ruin that?

Roope reads your letter and there are tears in his eyes. What hurt the most was the way you signed the letter. You just signed it “yn”. There was no “love” or “yours”. It was just your name. What was he expecting? He basically broke up with you; there was no reason for you to remind him of your love.

“Where did you run off to?” Esa says as he barges into the barracks. “Your girl send any suggestive photos for your pleasure?”

When Roope doesn’t answer, Esa gets nervous. Roope was always very smiley and happy after he got one of your letters. Esa takes the letter out of Roope’s hand and reads it. When he sees the stained writing and what it contains, Esa instantly knows why Roope is upset.

“You love her, so why did you do this to her?”

“Because I’m not going to be able to give her what she wants. She wants to marry me one day.”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

Roope nods. “I can’t marry her, though, if I’m dead.”

“Who says you’re going to die?”

“I think the fact that pilots have the highest death rate speaks for that.”

Esa sighs and sits on the bed next to Roope. “We’re in a war. We should be able to have our dreams right next to us, right? You shouldn’t have to give up everything. You’re giving up your twenties, happiness, and strength to fight a war you didn’t start. The one thing you should be able to have is your dream. The letter you wrote her? Ruined that dream. Why did you do it?”

“I don’t want her to love a man who is going to die one day. I don’t want her to dream and imagine what our wedding would look like. I don’t want her to dream about the life we will have together one day. That’s not true. I want her to dream about those things. However, I don’t want her to dream about those things if I can’t be there. I don’t want to get shot down only for her dream life not to be able to happen. More than anything in the world, I want her to be happy. I don’t think I can give her that if I die. I want to give her a life in which she can be happy.”

“Roope, from what I can tell, you made her sad and miserable.”

“If I end things with her now, then when I die, she’ll already have a mended heart and be able to move on.”

“I don’t think so.”

Roope looks up. “What?”

“Firstly, you keep talking as if you’re going to die tomorrow. There is no definite evidence that points to that. You know, she could always die in a car accident tomorrow, God forbid. Secondly, from this letter, she loves you and you broke her heart.”

A look of realization crosses Roope’s face. “Damn, you’re right. I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

“Maybe when you go home you can fix things?”

Roope nods. He only hopes that whenever this war ends you’ll still love him enough to give him a second chance.

. . .

September 13, 1945

A knock on your parent’s door has you shocked. You were sitting in the kitchen making a pie to bring over to the Hintz’s house. Despite not talking to Roope in two years, your family and the Hintz family were still close. You clean your hands on the dish rag and walk over to the door. You don’t take the time to check who it is before you open the door. When you see the person on the other side of the door, you gasp and slam the door in their face.

It was Roope.

The love of your life who told you two years ago that the two of you shouldn’t write to each other. He threw away years of love and friendship in one letter. However, it was rude to shut the door in his face, right? You open the door again carefully. Part of you is hoping he took the hint and walked away; however, the majority of you is hoping that he’s still there. Despite him breaking your heart, you still loved him with your entire heart and being. You doubted you would ever love anyone as much as you loved Roope.

So, you open the door. Thankfully, he’s still out there. “Hi, Roope.”

“Hi, Yn,” he says nervously. “Um, these are for you. Your favorites.”

You take the flowers he’s handing to you and smile. Of course he remembered. “Thank you. Why don’t you come in, and I’ll put them into water and a vase.”

Roope nods and follows you into the house.

“When did you get home?”

“Oh, um, just a few days ago,” Roope is confused at the friendliness of the way this conversation is going. He figured you would have some harsh words for him considering what he did to you.

“And you’re only stopping by to say hi now?” you tease.

“I mean, I’m not sure how much you hate me considering I broke your heart.”

“Oh, so we are addressing the elephant in the room, then.”

“Look, yn, I’m really sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted what’s best for you.”

“So, you broke my heart?”

“No, that’s not what I wanted to do.”

“Then what did you want to do.”

Roope sighs and looks at you. “I wanted your heart to get over me earlier, so that when I died, it wouldn’t hurt as much. I didn’t want you to dream of this life with me after the war only for it to be destroyed by me dying in combat.”

“What would have happened if you didn’t die?”

“Like before I wrote that letter or after?”

“Both, Roope.”

“Before? I would have flown back home to you as promised and married you. After? Well, this.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s this?”

“An apology tour?”

“A tour? Who else’s heart did you break?” you tease.

“My mother’s.”

You giggle softly. “What?”

“My mother was heartbroken to know what I did. She was so upset and sad that you wouldn’t be her daughter-in-law one day.”

“Oh.”

Roope isn’t sure how to take this. “If you’ll forgive me, yn, then that would make me so happy. I know it’s not me fixing what I did but it’s a start. Even if you don’t love me as much as I love you or at all, that’s okay. I just need you to forgive me.”

“If I forgive you, what comes next?” you add on.

Roope knows you well enough to know that this means that you’re leaning to forgiving him. “Well, I’d probably ask you out for dinner and then another and another and another and that pattern would continue. After a while, I hope, you’ll realize that I never stopped loving you and still want to marry you one day. When you finally realize that, I’ll ask you to marry me and we’ll live the life you always dreamed about.”

Roope’s words put tears in your eyes. He still loves you? He still wants to marry you? “I forgive you, Roope. I could never stay mad at you,” you say as you jump into his arms.

Roope smiles and wraps his arms around you. He strokes your back as you cry into his chest and softly kisses your forehead. When you finally stop crying, Roope decides to test the waters. “Does this mean I can take you out for dinner?”

You laugh. “Yes, Roope, you can take me out for dinner.”

“I did promise to always fly back home to you, yn.”

You smile. “And that you did.”

. . .

June 15, 1946

“Hey, step outside for a moment?” Roope whispers into your ear. You were sitting in your living room celebrating the birthday of your sister’s son. You nod and take Roope’s hand. After that day he came home and visited you, Roope has spent every single day since then showing you how sorry he is and reminding you everyday of his love for you. There was not a single day in which you doubted his love for you. Roope leads you out your back door and out to the tree in your backyard. When you walk out, you notice that there’s a blanket sitting on the grass underneath it and small lights hanging from the large branches.

“Roope, what’s this?” you ask.

“The last part of my apology tour.”

“Roope, we’ve gone over this verbatim. I forgive you; there is no need to keep trying to prove you’re sorry or love me.”

“You say that now but I think you’ll like this final part. Come sit?” Roope sits on the blankets and opens his arms so that you can join him. You do. You sit with your back to him and he wraps his arms around you. You can feel how fast his heart is beating on your back.

“Before you say anything, I need you to know, I am truly sorry for all of the heartbreak I put you through. That’s the one thing I will regret for the rest of my life. There is nothing I can do to ever make it up to you. However, I hope that marrying you will help me make it up to you.”

“You’re going to have to prop-- oh!” you’re interrupted when Roope places a small velvet box in your hand. “Roope.”

“When my parents told me we were moving to Dallas, I wasn’t sure if I’d like it. I knew why we were moving, but I didn’t want to. But then, you showed up on my doorstep with a plate of cookies in your hand and my life changed forever. My family knew before I did just how much I loved you. It took some time, but I wouldn’t change a single thing. Actually, I’d change the letter I wrote during the war but nothing else. I wouldn’t change the friendship we had and the meetings under this very tree. None of it. I only wish that we didn’t lose so many years together because of the war. Yes, I’ll admit, I ruined that a bit. We probably could be married by now and maybe have a little one of our own running around or you were close to giving birth to one. However, life happened the way it did.”

There were tears starting to form in your eyes. Roope releases his hold on you and guides you to stand up. You stand, and he goes down on one knee.

“Yn, there are no words to describe the love I have for you. Not a single one. However, I hope that if you let me be the happiest man on earth, it might give me enough time to find all the words. During the war, I was sending money to my mother to save for me to use to buy you a ring. That didn’t stop when I did what I did. I actually bought this ring the day before I went to see you. I felt that, though, despite my want to marry you right then and there, I knew we weren’t there yet. That doesn’t mean we aren’t there now.” Roope takes a deep breath. “Yn, will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes of course!” you tell him and Roope smiles.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely!”

He gets up and places a kiss on your lips. It was salty from your tears but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Roope breaks away and places the ring on your hand.

“You did fly back home to me even if it took some time.”

“You never have to doubt it, yn,” Roope tells you as yours and his family cheers from the back porch. “No matter what, I’ll always fly back home to you.”

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