#NOT speaking on the state of the united states of america NONE of my business

[sleepnoises]

i tested positive for covid this morning and not six hours later mister joseph robinette biden tests positive.... my thanks to him for doing this to entertain me. however has he considered letting me have my moment

[the-fiction-witch]

Shall We?

Media - Pistol (Disney plus / FX) Character - Malcolm Mclaren Couple - Malcolm X Reader Reader - Y/n (Nicknamed Natty) Rating - smutty moments Word Count - 3000

I sauntered down from the bus stop, doing my best not to look too upset. My boots make a loud clack on the grimy pavement with each step I take. I kept my hands in the pockets of my jacket as I passed the heaps of black bin bags stacked high. I saw the pink shop front already opened up so I headed inside letting the door fall closed behind me as I made my way inside the graffitied store full of racks and shelves. 'Moonage Daydream' playing from the jukebox in the corner, As I went across the shop floor I undid my jacket and slipped it off hanging it over my arm as I went for the curtain to the back room.

But before my hand even touched the curtain, My path was blocked.

I didn't even want to dignify his nonsense today, but I had to look up at him as he was in my way.

There Malcolm stood, in his usual shoes, black leather trousers, his white sleeveless shirt printed with the cowboys touching tips, his dark curls well tussled. His wrist leant against the doorframe, his hip cocked in the other direction and his hand in his pocket completely blocking the entrance to the shop's back room. He smirked down at me with that knowing grin.

"Problem. Speak."

"I'm not in the mood Malcolm," I glared,

He removed his hand from his pocket and rested his thumb on my chin forcing my eyes to his, "Natty. Speak."

"I don't have a problem," I told him, as I ducked under his arm and headed down the corridor to the back room, but as I hung up my jacket he followed,

"And I can shove my cock up my arse. We both know we're bullshitting. So speak Natty." He says wrapping his arms around me from behind, and giving my body a little sway in his arms,

"Malcolm, I am in the kinda mood where I'm willing to kick you in the nuts."

"There's ever a time you're not willing to kick me in the balls?"

"...True," I sighed, "I'm just really not in a good mood today," I told him shoving him away and heading back to the shop floor letting my red hair loose from the bun,

"And the reason is?" He followed me once more,

"None of ya business," I sighed as I checked the desk for everything,

"Natty, come on." he leant on the desk beside me,

"Will you quit calling me that!" I sighed, "Why do you even call me that anyway?"

"You always try and ask for American Beer, notably Natual light," he explained, "And ... it pisses you off so much when I call you Natty,"

"True," I sighed,

"So, come on. What's making those blue eyes cry?" He tapped my nose,

"You really wanna know?"

"I do,"

"You won't just be a cunt?"

"I won't be a cunt,"

"You are going to at least pretend to give a shit?"

"I will actually give a shit."

"Fine," I sighed, grabbing the letter from my bra and handing it to him before taking some shirts to restock them,

"And for the record, I do give a shit about your problems."

"Do you?" I rasied an eyebrow,

"More than I do anyone else," He shrugged, "May I read?"

"No I handed you a letter from my bra so you could sniff it, Yes you can read it!"

"I mean I'll do both if you let me," He joked before he looked, "... Home Office," He muttered actually reading properly, "Dear Miss Natty," He joked, "we are writing to inform you that the Work and Education Visa you where granted on the 17th of May 1977 is now due to... Expire! ...On the 31st of June 1979. As you are aware if you do not return to your home country, notably The United States of America before midnight on the 31st of June 1979, An official warrant will be out for your arrest. If you proceed to stay beyond your Visa expiration you will face imprisonment, deportation and a one Thousand pound fine! As well as have your potential future Visa's rejected. Thank you have a nice day at the Home office!" He read,

"Yep," I sighed as I stocked,

"That doesn't seem like a 'thank you have a nice day' kinda letter."

"The passive aggression of the British government,"

"... But the 31st that's only three weeks away."

"I know,"

"When did you get this?"

"This morning,"

"So they expect you to just pack the life you've had for two years up in less than three weeks, book and board a plane back to the States?"

"Yep,"

"And how long is it going to take to get a new visa and come back?"

"Six months,"

"Six!"

"If they approve me, which they might not cause they are

"really dickish about that,"

"You could just stay?"

"And get arrested? No, thank you."

"Cha-"

"You dare say chaos I will shove a fire poker up your British ass."

"Fine," He sighed setting the letter down and leaning on the counter, "What's the plan then?"

"I don't know," I sighed resting my hands on my hips as I turned back to him, "It's all a bit of a whirlwind. I don't wanna go back, I want to stay here. I love it here, I've made a life here, I have a flat, a job, I don't want to just pack what I can and go back to some shit stain in Brooklynn till I can come back. If they'll even let me back,"

He sighed, "Come here,"

I sighed treading across the shop, resting my forehead on his shirt, and he slowly encircled me in his arms, laying his cheek on my head,

"We'll figure it out," He said, "You know I'd look after stuff for you till you got back,"

"I know. I just... don't want to leave,"

"Is there any way of getting your Visa extended?"

"Nope."

"Can you apply for a new visa?"

"Not without going back to the US,"

"...Can... you apply for a different visa like a student or something?"

"Not without being arrested,"

"Fine," he sighed, "Natty?"

"Umm? What's going on in that head Malcolm?"

"Ohh no idea I have no clue what's going on in my noggin," He sighed, "But... You can stay if you're are a British citizen,"

"Yes, but I'm not."

"But can we make you one?"

"Again with the crimes Malcolm,"

"Sorry I don't have a lot of respect for the actual laws" He sighed, "But... it's possible, right? just go for the citizenship test?"

"I have to have been here five years."

"Ah."

"And the test takes six months,"

"...God damn with these wait times," He sighed, "Okay..." Suddenly his eyes lit up,

"Oh god. I know that look,"

"You can apply for British citizenship for if you marry a British person."

"...They still might throw me out-"

"But they'll let you come back and stay forever if you are married to a Brit."

"And how exactly do you suggest I do this?"

He simply looked down at me, "Hi natty,"

"... Malcolm... are you... suggesting what I think you are?"

"You wanna do some immigration fraud with me?" He chuckled,

"Why is it always crimes with you?"

"Come on think about it? A quick trip up the registry office, sign our lives away. Boom you're my wife! You can apply for citizenship, and even if they make you wait a couple months it'll at least delay it and then you can stay here in London."

"As nice an idea as it is, they would know it's bullshit." I chuckled going back to stocking,

"How?"

"We're not romantically involved?"

"They don't know that," He shrugged, "All the office is gonna see is us turning up and signing a bit of paper, I'm sure we can hold hands and look cute and in love for like ten minutes."

"Okay, but what happens during the application process when they start asking questions? we can't fake a relationship"

"Pretty sure we can natty,"

"We have no evidence of anything,"

"... We have evidence of you working in a business that I co-own, We're already pretty good mates so people have seen us together at pubs and such, we have photos of us together, you have ticket stubs from bands I've managed, sounds like we could work all that into pretty believable friends into lovers kinda thing," he explained, "and technically I'm not on Viv's apartment paperwork haven't ever been so just claim I moved in with you and we live together"

"...I- I don't like how quickly you came up with that." I glared, "Malcolm is this the first time you've thought about this?" I asked suspiciously,

He looked a little sheepish, "I may have had this on a back burner in my brain,"

"For how long?"

"...A... amount of time."

"Okay, but even so what's gonna happen when they come checking it legit?"

"Again. I'm pretty sure we can fake it for... an hour if someone came around to check it,"

"So they turn up at eight am on a random Wednesday and find me very much alone and single in my flat?"

"Say I'm out, call me and I'll come by with like some shopping or something and we can fake it from there," He shrugs, "Or..."

"Or?"

"Or... I can move in?" He sighed, "At least for like a while till we know they don't suspect anymore, I kinda need a new place to live anyway,"

"You do? What's wrong with the flat?"

"Viv refuses to buy me food anymore, she's been an ice queen, the kid doesn't want me around and she keeps bringing that damn boy toy of hers over and fucking him. I think half the time just to piss me off."

I crossed my arms, "So the trade here is, I get to stay here potentially forever by you pretending to be my husband, and you get an apartment where you don't have to listen to your Ex fuck her boyfreind?"

"That's the jist of it yeah Natty, So? shall we?"

"... Alright Deal."

I felt... rather weird about all this, I mean I'm happy I get to stay... but I mean, can I really pull off being in love with Malcolm? Let alone the various potential checkups. He'd already moved into my spare room and honestly, things were really nice, I kinda liked seeing him more, and only having to do half my chores. I like that a lot. And not having to take the bus as he lets me drive his car ... I like that too. I stood inside the store trembling a little to think this was really happening.

I never thought I'd get married,

Least of all to Malcolm of all people,

As Vivienne tightened the back of the dress she'd made for me, which... I had thought was kind of her at first... Now... I'm almost convinced it was a murder attempt.

I know Viv has never exactly been the biggest fan of me, never knew why. I assume personality clash. But... these last few weeks have felt like personal attacks.

The dress was... chaotic of course with ripped white petticoats, a black latex stained with red paint, one torn tulle sleeve, and a corset back which she was currently lacing me into... Violently.

"Oww!" I whined a little,

"Oh suck it in Y/n." She demanded,

I sighed and did my best not to complain, I mean it's a free wedding dress. And I can always say I got married in a Vivienne Westwood.

Just... to Malcolm... which sounds far less impressive.

"Viv?"

"Mhm?" She asked as she worked tightening it more,

"Are you... Okay with all this?"

"Fine." She snapped,

"It- It's not like-"

"I'm fine. Not like Malcolm and I were together for several years, have a child together and never once did either of us want to subscribe to the modern slavery of marriage," She said with a pointed tone to her voice,

"It's not romantic. It's just for paperwork." I told her,

"Mhm. That's why you've moved in together." She snapped finishing the dress, "You're done."

"Thank you," I nodded trying not to be rude as I slowly emerged from the dressing room,

"Awwww You look so pretty!" Jordon smiled at me,

"Thanks," I smiled trying not to feel... a little giddy,

I'm getting married even if it's for show it's still kinda exciting,

"I did my best," Viv sighed sitting on the chair with a glare in my direction,

"You'll make a really nice bride Y/n," Jordon smiled,

"Thank you," I blushed a little,

The moment was broken however by the sound of Malcolm as he came from the back room, singing 'Here comes the bride' to himself or well...

"Bum, bum, bum bum. Bum, bum, bum bum."

Until he emerged, in his latex trousers, his sheer black shirt and a leather jacket leaning on the wall,

Jordon wolf-whistled at him, and Viv just rolled her eyes,

"The groom is here," He smirked, "Now where's my blushing bride?"

"Hi," I waved,

"Hi," He smiled coming to look at my dress, "You look really nice Natty,"

"I do?"

"Very cute," He smiled taking my hand and giving me a little spin, "a very lovely bride for visa purposes. So? Shall we?"

"Alright, let's do this," I nodded,

He squeezed my hand and we headed out of the shop and down to his little green mini, He went to the driver's door and opened it for me, "Mi lady,"

"Thank you, sir," I chuckled climbing in and getting prepped to try and drive in this damn dress as he climbed in the passenger side, so I started up and headed down the streets,

"Does Viv hate you?" He asked looking at the dress more,

"I'm starting to think she might," I nodded,

"Well, I think you look nice,"

"Thanks, Malcolm," I chuckled,

"Remember we need to look loving."

"But not too loving like we're faking it."

"Exactly, so just let me handle it." He smiled

I nodded trying to focus on driving.

It was all over and done so quickly, so simply, made me wonder why I hadn't done this years back. Literally, it was a ten-minute queue, a five-minute chat with an officiant, signing our names, taking a copy and that's it. we didn't even have to fake kiss... which I'm mad about, cause Malcolm has been insisting we practice for like the last three days, Legally We're married.

We drove back to the apartment grabbing a fish and chips takeaway for dinner on the way home, I unlocked the flat door and went to step in but he stopped me,

"Yes?"

"I have to carry you,"

"What?"

"I have to carry you over the threshold," He chuckled,

"You really don't have to,"

"I want to, Come on Natty,"

"Fine," I rolled my eyes,

"Up we go little lady," He chuckled picking me up and tossing me over his shoulder ignoring my squeals as he carried me into the apartment and tossed me down on the sofa, "Hey wife,"

"Hey, husband,"

"How long do we have to do the whole... faking being in love thing?"

"Just a couple months, until they do all the checks and stuff," he said shutting the door, dumping dinner in the kitchen and sitting down with me, "Or... you know, for simplicity's sake? We could just... do this forever?"

"What?"

"Maybe... we could, kinda just be husband and wife?"

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly,"

"... was this... all some scheme!"

"Less of a scheme and more of, I had come up with the concept in theory ages back and when I read your letter I kinda just went for it..." he explained, "Frankly even I'm surprised I got this far,"

"You absolute cunt."

"We just got married and you're just now figuring that out?"

"You are a dick." I chuckled, "You really couldn't just ask me out like a normal person you had to wait and convince me to marry you just as my visa was about to expire, move in with me, and have us go through a whole wedding."

"Chaos." He smirked, "You're like my best mate you really have never picked up that I like you?"

"...Kinda, never really thought about it too hard," I chuckled,

"And... do you?"

"I mean, yeah but I never thought..." I began, "I hate you sometimes," I chuckled laying my head on his shoulder,

"Hate you too Natty, my cute little wife," He chuckled pulling me onto his lap and letting us share a rather tender kiss, "Now... there is one more thing we need to do to make this marriage nice and legitimate,"

"Oh?" I rasied an eyebrow,

"We need... to consume our married don't we?"

"That's not a thing Malcolm and hasn't been for many, many decades."

"Ohh it's a thing little lady, They could say our marriage is null and void if we didn't consummate it. So? shall we?"

"...Okay," I blushed a little,

"Come on Natty, let's go make our marriage bed messy." He smirked picking me up with him and carrying me towards my bedroom,

I yawned a little as I heard the screams and cries from the nursery, But I stirred and gave Malcolm an elbow,

"You're turn,"

"Hummm?" He groans,

"baby. Crying. Do something."

"I did it last time."

"No, I did. Go on husband off you go,"

"Fine," He yawns sitting up and rubbing his eyes, and wandering through the apartment to go check on the baby, and of course, he was back fairly soon holding baby Iris, "She requires boobs,"

"Alright," I sighed sitting up and taking her to give her a feed,

Malcolm came and sat down beside me in the bed, "Morning Natty,"

"Morning Malcolm,"

"She's a hungry girl this morning,"

"Umm she didn't want to feed last night so she's probably hungry, silly girl,"

"Silly little Iris," He chuckled, "How's mummy this morning?"

"Fine, How's daddy?"

"Happier now his girls are here," he cooed, giving my cheek and her head a small kiss,

"There we go all done," I cooed as she finished up so I wiped her little chin and handed her to Malcolm as he was better at burping her,

"what's the plan?"

"sleep. then... chaos."

"I love it." he agreed, "Come on then you back to bed," He cooed as he finished burping her and he carried her back to her crib soon returning and crawling back into bed for a cuddle,

I smiled and cuddled up close to him rubbing my nose on his chest as he wrapped his arms around me close,

"Y/n?"

"Yes, Malcolm,"

"I love ya,"

"I love ya too," I chuckled giving his lips a gentle sleepy kiss,

"...As we're both awake... did you maybe wanna?" he smirked peppering my neck with kisses,

"why do you always get horny in the morning?"

"Cause I've been dreaming of you all night," He smirked, "so? shall we?"

"Come here you stupid man," I cooed pulling him into a kiss and slowly dragging him on top of me, 

[discreative]

Dylan at the Spaceport

"Greetings."

The Spaceport Officer entered the room, heading for the desk where the alien sat.

"Apologies for the delay." - she settled her tail in the uncomfortable office chair, and shuffled some papers with avian-like forelimbs. - "My name is Khryn, and I'll be helping you through this process, since this appears to be your first passage through an Intercivilization Spaceport. Though I'm sure you've been told already."

The cockroach-like being in front of her nodded affirmatively. - "Yes, pleased to meet you Ms. Khryn - may I call you Ms?"

"Yes, that's fine. And how may I address you?"

The alien chittered with its mandibles before responding. - "Dylan. Please call me Dylan."

Khryn was a little offput. 'Dylan' wasn't a name she heard very often, but then again, she'd never seen this alien's species before. But there was something off about it. They seemed to struggle to pronounce the name, as if it wasn't natural for their vocal organs. Why would someone be named something their kind can barely speak?

But this was really none of her business, so she quickly brushed the feeling aside.

"So, Dylan, what is the name of your species? And, word of warning, if you're newcomers to space travel, you'll have to have registered with the Intergalactic Registry Committee, otherwise we can't continue."

"Right, not to worry, the Committee is aware of my situation."

This wording worried Khryn.

"My species is legally registered as 'Dylan'."

This did nothing to reduce Khryn's worries.

"It appears I am the first known species of a sapient collective consciousness. I believe 'hive-mind' or 'group-mind' are the popular terms in some vocabularies."

Khryn was indeed pretty worried. If the Committee knew about this, and Dylan was registered, maybe it would be fine? She was sure they'd never traveled through Spaceport before though, so there was probably going to be quite a few system redesigns and a lot of paperwork to accomodate this development. And since Dylan was assigned to her, she'd have to be involved with the process, to make sure it properly accomodated Dylan.

"I see." - she finally said. - "Out of curiosity, how many... Well, bodies, or organisms I suppose, are included in... Dylan?"

"As of this moment, seven."

That was good news for Khryn. At least there weren’t hundreds of them. Or thousands of them. Or any ridiculous number that would make this too complicated. She was starting to feel confident after all.

"Very good, and what is your civilization of origin called?"

"The United States of America."

Khryn failed to suppress a dejected sigh.

Of course the Humans were involved. Why wouldn't they be?

Khryn still remembered the nightmare that was redesigning every Spaceport registration system to distinguish Civilizations and Species. Because the Humans couldn’t just get along, no, they had to split their species into hundreds of "countries", all with different rules and travel agreements. Then there was the sheer number of them - several billions, completely dwarfing the second most numerous species, at barely over a billion. Spaceport traffic had to be heavily streamlined to accomodate for the possible number of travelers.

"Right, well, I believe that will be everything for now." - Khryn said, rising from her seat. - "I'll come back later to verify your documents, and if all is in order you'll be granted a provisional Spaceport Travel Registration, until we can fit your... particular... situation, into the system."

"Thank you very much, Ms. Khryn. I appreciate how helpful you've been." - said Dylan, also getting up from the chair and extending a limb towards Khryn. It took her a moment to realize they wanted a Human "handshake", after which she gladly shook the appendage.

"There was just... One more thing." - Dylan interjected, hesitantly. - "When I came into the office, they gave each of my bodies a different number. We won't need to do the process again six times right?"

"Oh. Well, no, but you will probably need a provisional Travel Registration for each body. Until we can properly register you, that is. But, uh, don't worry, I'll see what I can do."

Dylan made an expression that seemed to be positive. - "I see. Thanks again, really, Ms. Khryn."

"Don't mention it, it's no trouble at all." - Khryn replied. And then she carried on into her office, ready to fix all the trouble this one cheerful being was going to cause.

[amberfaber40]

45 Times Text Messages Were Too Funny Not To Share On This Dedicated Instagram Account

45 Times Text Messages Were Too Funny Not To Share On This Dedicated Instagram Account

As a millennial, I still remember calling my high school best friend and talking for hours until there was nothing in our lives the other didn't know about. But the world has changed a lot since then and so has our communication habits.

Getting Old Requires A Sense Of Humor-Funny Quotes

Funny Quotes About Getting Old This post may contain affiliate links. By buying through the links I may receive a commission for the sale. This has no effect on the price. When we're young, old age always seems so far in the future. And then you wake up one morning and look in the mirror and wonder what the hell happened. Who is that person looking at me? And then it hits you. I am officially old. Sure it starts gradually. Slow and easy so as not to frighten you. But sooner or later you...

251points FacebookPinterestTwitter As a millennial, I still remember calling my high school best friend and talking for hours until there was nothing in our lives the other didn't know about. But the world has changed a lot since then and so has our communication habits.In 2018, there were 2.25 billion mobile phone messaging app users globally and this number is expected to grow to 3.5 billion by 2025. In many places, the phrase "Everyone's texting" is not even an exaggeration.But reducing an interaction to just symbols can be tricky. When there's so little that holds a conversation together, things are bound to get (a little) chaotic. And the Instagram account 'Funny Texts' is a perfect example of that.From contacting the wrong number to simple puns, continue scrolling to check out what it has to offer. fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts ReportWeChat is popular in China, Line is big in Japan, and WhatsApp... Well, it's WhatsApp. It has 2 million users. But in these apps, messages travel over the internet rather than over phone lines like SMS texts and, interestingly, the United States is one of the few big countries where SMS, the texting technology with origins in the 1980s, remains a standard way to chat.As Shira Ovide highlighted in The New York Times, America's SMS exceptionalism has its pros and cons. The biggest benefits of SMS are that it works on almost any phone, and people are not locked into one company's communications world. The drag, however, is that SMS has security flaws, and it lacks features of modern chat apps like notifications that your friend has read your message, or the ability to start a video call from a text. fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts ReportMany people also think that texting is bad because it makes us lazy in the way we speak, but language guru David Crystal thinks that it's causing neither bad spelling nor moral decay.The UK's leading linguistic academic told The Guardian, "Almost every basic principle that people hold about texting turns out to be misconceived." fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report"Misspelling isn't universal: analysis shows that only 10% of words used in texts are misspelled. Nor are most texts sent by kids: 80% are sent by businesses and adults," Crystal explained."Likewise, there is no evidence that texting teaches people to spell badly: rather, research shows that those kids who text frequently are more likely to be the most literate and the best spellers, because you have to know how to manipulate language." fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts ReportAccording to Crystal, if you can't spell a word, then you don't really know whether it's cool to misspell it in the first place."Kids have a very precise idea of context - none of those I have spoken to would dream of using text abbreviations in their exams - they know they would be marked down for it."Of course, changing public opinion is hard work, but Crystal is hopeful he can convert the linguistic reactionaries. fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report"The reality is that people have always had a tremendous fear about the impact of new technology on language," Crystal said."When the printing press was first invented, people thought it was an instrument of the devil that would spawn unauthorized versions of the Bible. The telephone created fears of a breakdown in family life, with people no longer speaking directly to one another. And radio and television raised concerns about brainwashing. fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report"Text messaging is just the most recent focus of people's anxiety; what people are really worried about is a new generation gaining control of what they see as their language."At its most basic, language is an expression of identity. How we speak is central to who we think we are and where we think we belong. So feel free, experiment, and send the funniest results of your 'studies' to 'Funny Texts!' fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts Report fun.ny_texts ReportNote: this post originally had 112 images. It’s been shortened to the top 45 images based on user votes.Add New Image Add Your Photo To This ListPlease use high-res photos without watermarksUpload PhotoNot your original work? 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[hops-hunny]

Yo-yo’s Girl

Pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Black!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.6k

Request: N/A

Summary: Kyoya’s girlfriend is a lot a bit different than what they expected.

Warnings: None, could be read as a chubby or plus size reader!

A/N: This was self indulgent. I wrote this at like 2 AM and didn’t know until I woke up.

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Haruhi asked, already done with Tamaki's antics. She knew this was a bad idea but with the promise of some of her debt being removed, she couldn't find herself to do anything but go along with the blonde's crazy scheme.

"Why of course it will! When have you ever known of my plans to go wrong?" He responded, placing a hand over his heart as he swooned around dramatically. Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged looks with each other before looking back at Tamaki.

"Do you really want us to answer that?" They chimed, causing Tamaki to deflate with a defeated look. He looked over at Haruhi with puppy dog eyes, hoping the girl would agree with him. She offered him a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Listen senpai, don't get me wrong, sometimes your ideas are great but isn't this...a bit much? I mean why can't we just ask Kyoya about his love life? Do we really need this elaborate plan?" She asked, hoping he would budge. She looked down as Honey hung off her arm, Mori trailing behind him.

"Don't be silly, Haru-chan! Kyoya senpai is a private guy. He wouldn't trust us with anything like that." He said, climbing off the girl and back onto Mori. She let her eyes drift to Mori in hopes he'd help but he just let out a grunt of agreement. She sighed in defeat knowing she wasn't going to get through to them. How had they gotten into this dumb plan in the first place?

It all started when Tamaki overheard Kyoya on the phone with someone and from the tone in the raven haired boy's voice, he assumed it was a girl. More specifically, his girlfriend. However, any other time Tamaki didn't wanna intrude so to avoid doing so, he decided they would all follow him after school to see if that's where he was going!

As they saw a familiar head of black hair walk towards the school gates, they all began to walk behind him, attempting to be as quiet as possible. They had been following him for a few blocks, leading to a nice but unfamiliar part of town; however as he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, they all began to hide behind a bush but halted their motions when they heard him speak.

"Do you honestly think I didn't see any of you?" He questioned, not even turning around. They all stayed quiet in hopes that he would assume himself as crazy and continue to make his way down the street. But, as he turned around, parting the bushes, that idea flew out the window.

"Hey Kyoya! My dearest friend, I'd even go as far as to call you my bro-"

"Cut the bullshit Tamaki. Let me guess." He pushed his glasses up his nose before clearing his throat. "You thought that if you followed me you'd get to see my girlfriend, correct?" He asked, their wide eyes answering his question. However, where was the fun in that?

"That's exactly what we were doing! We wanna meet your girlfriend, Kyo-chan!" Honey piped up. The twins glared at him for his willingness to comply with Kyoya's questions so easily. Meanwhile Haruhi just sighed, slumping down even further.

"If you wanted to meet my girlfriend, you all could've just asked. I expected more from you, Haruhi. You should've known better." He chastised, watching the girl who's left eye was currently twitching. Without another word, Kyoya kept down his path towards the airport, leaving his companions to fight amongst each other.

----------------------

It was Friday of the same week and the rest of the hosts were beginning to grow hopeless about meeting Kyoya's girlfriend. Was she even real? Perhaps Tamaki's senses had been wrong and the conversation that played out earlier that week was simply meant to teach them a lesson. However, as the hosts were shutting things down for the day, slowly gathering there things to go home, Kyoya cleared his throat. They all turned to him, curious to what he had to say.

"Leaving so soon? And to think (Y/n) was coming to visit today. Oh well, I'll tell her you all said hi." Kyoya started, turning around to face the window. 3, 2,.. a chorus of hot fire questions started around him causing him to chuckle under his breath. "One at a time, I can't answer you all at once."

"Why doesn't (Y/n)-chan go to school with us?" Honey started, staring up at the tall boy. Kyoya turned to face the group, brushing off his blazer as he did so.

"She does during a portion of the year. Due to her parent's line of business, (Y/n) does one semester in the United States and one here in Japan. However, she is originally from America. Next question?"

"What do her parents do?" The twins said, angry with each other that they had asked the same question. "I thought my question was original.."

"I'm sure you've heard of the (L/n)'s before. They specialize in state of the art technology of all forms. Best selling in all of Japan. However, (Y/n) also has her own business under her parents that deals with unbreakable fine china, some of the best of it's kind but I'm afraid I'm biased." He smiled at the thought of his girlfriend, catching the other host off guard. Who was this girl who was able to make Kyoya smile?

"What's she like, senpai? I'm sure she must be special to catch your attention." Haruhi inquired. Kyoya felt his cheeks heat up as he thought of the many things he enjoyed about his girlfriend. He turned back to the window, looking out it once again.

"She makes me laugh and she's beautiful. Don't tell her that though. She always gets a big head when you do." He muttered, checking his watch for the time. She should've been here by now.

"She sounds absolutely radiant, Kyoya! When is she going to show?" Tamaki asked, sighing dreamily at the thought of his closest friend in love with a beautiful girl. Kyoya looked at the clock across the room before frowning slightly.

"She was supposed to.." he trailed off at the sound of his name being screamed continuously and the sound of loud footsteps growing closer. All of a sudden a blur of brown skin and thick thighs stormed in, jumping onto the man. Mori put Honey down, ready to fight if need be but stopped once he saw Kyoya wrap his arms around the girl, embracing her tightly.

"Darling! I'm sorry I'm late, I got hungry and stopped by that little bakery you showed me the other day!" The girl said, looking up at the boy who had an uncharacteristically warm smile. Everyone was even more shocked as he let out a laugh, stroking some of the girl's braids behind her back. She was a short girl, full of curves and rolls in all the right places. Her outfit was very casual compared to the things Kyoya wore on his free time. She had on a jean skirt and a form fitting striped shirt that made the undertones of her soft brown skin pop.

"I told you to let me know if you plan on going places beforehand. You know how sidetracked you get. You easily could've gotten lost." He lectured causing the girl to roll her eyes. She pouted, crossing her arms around her chest.

"Okay and? Clearly I didn't. Lay off 4 eyes. I'm here now aren't I? That's all that matters!" She jumped out of the boys arms finally before turning to face the rest of them. They all had the same question: 'How could such an energetic girl be with Kyoya?' "You're definitely Tamaki." She said, pointing to the blonde. He had a flattered look on as he began to say something but she cut him off. "You look just as annoying as Yo-yo said." She finished. Hikaru began to comfort their boss in the corner as Kaoru began to laugh.

"Yo-yo?" He choked out, laughing a bit more. Kyoya's face began to heat up more as he looked down at the short girl, a pissed expression on his face.

"(Y/n) I told you not to call me that in public." He said in an angry tone, looking away from the girl. She pouted some more, bringing a soft hand up to his face. As she stroked his cheek, hot tears began to form in the corner of her (e/c) eyes.

"I'm sorry, Kyoya! I forgot. You know me, I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of your friends." He leaned into the girl's touch, looking down at her sad expression. How could he ever stay mad at that? He sighed quickly, leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead. She squeaked, unused to him initiating any sort of physical affection in public.

"Forgive me darling, I hate to see you so sad. How about I take you to one of those," his face turned slightly green as he grimaced some, "Commoner malls that you adore so much. I'll buy you anything you want. Hm?" The girl instantly perked, throwing her pudgy arms around her lanky boyfriend. He tensed a bit before hugging her back warmly, glaring at the twins who looked like they may say something to ruin the sweet moment. Haruhi watched in awe, feeling even herself grow emotional at how clearly in love her senpai was.

"Really? Let's go Kyo! What are we waiting for?" (Y/n) asked as she grabbed her boyfriend's hand, beginning to drag him towards the door forcefully. Once they were out she quickly peaked her head back in looking at the others.

"Well? Are you coming?"

[is-it-madness]

Metal Fingers

A/N 1: This fic is for my lovely beta/bestie @wowjeena Heyyo, would you be up to writing a soulmate au with Bucky? You can choose which type of soulmate au but can you make the reader a normal person (so not an Avenger or anything related)?? Thanks girl and if you don’t wanna that’s chill 👉🏼👉🏼 So... it’s not exactly a soulmate au, but I hope this is okay instead ☺️💜💜 I’m also so sorry it took so long. I hope you like it, my dear.

A/N 2: The Bucky Barnes Exhibit states he was born in 1916, but at the bottom where it gives his life span, it says he was born in 1917. I googled it to find the correct year, and it said 1917… I don’t know what to do with that information, other than to tell you guys there’s a mistake in the movie. 

A/N 3: I apparently couldn’t make this a one shot, so it’ll be a multi part story. I’m aiming between 3-5 parts

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x single mom!reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k+

~~~

Part 1

A Fallen Comrade.

James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes

Born in 1916, Barnes grew up the oldest child of four. An excellent athlete who also excelled in the classroom. Barnes enlisted in the Army shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. After winter training at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, Barnes and the rest of the 107th shipped out to the Italian front. Captured by Hydra troops later that fall, Barnes endured long periods of isolation, deprivation and torture. But his will was strong. In an ironic twist of fate, his prison camp was liberated by none other than his childhood friend, Steve Rogers, now Captain America.

Reunited, Barnes and Rogers led Captain America’s newly formed unit, The Howling Commandos. Barnes’ marksmanship was invaluable as Rogers and his team destroyed Hydra bases and disrupted Nazi troop movements throughout the European Theater.

He knew these words. He read and reread them dozens— if not hundreds— of times. He wrote them down in every one of his notebooks as he was scrapping, searching for his memories that were just out of his reach. He could nearly taste them. They fluttered teasingly in front of him: close, but not close enough for him to snatch out of the air of uncertainty. 

He pulled a fresh notebook from his bag and a pencil, worried away from teeth and words. 

Start with what you know…

My name is James Buchanan Barnes. I was taken captive by Hydra and was used by them. I know a man named Steve. He was my friend.  

He trailed off. This is where he always was left floating in a sea of not knowing. He was left grasping for more. He was a starved man, empty without his memories. The few he managed to uncover did little to tide him over from insanity. He bit at that familiar indentation on his pencil, trying to think of something, anything at this point that was more than those four simple sentences he’s written everyday for the past several weeks. Sighing and pulling his baseball cap lower in frustration, Bucky returned his supplies to his bag, stood, and swung it over his right shoulder. Eyes low, and clutching his bag, Bucky made his way towards the exit of the crowded museum. Ever since the Potomac, this section of the Smithsonian was more packed than usual.

Nearly there. Nearly there. 

It was an understatement to say that Bucky Barnes didn’t like crowded areas. Too many bodies, pressing, and pushing against each other, loud noises, pointless conversations discussing mundane things. 

Nearly there. Nearly ther—

“Oof!”

He wouldn’t have noticed the boy that ran into him if his bag hadn’t slipped from his hand, spilling out the contents onto the floor. Bucky hurriedly crouched to retrieve his precious memories. He barely registers the boy picking up the items that had strayed a bit further. 

“Here you go Mister! I’m sorry for bumping into you like that.”

Bucky silently takes his belongings back from the little boy standing in front of him. 

Bucky unintentionally begins to analyze him.

Probably seven or eight. Bright eyes. Tousled hair. Skinny. Doesn’t clear 100 pounds soaking.

He shakes his head. Stop. No more. 

“Whoa, cool! Metal fingers!!”

Bucky quickly retracts his fingerless-gloved hand.

The boy pulls his hand from his sweatshirt pocket. “Yours are cooler, but I have metal fingers too! Well, actually it’s a metal arm because the doctors had to get rid of my real one because I got hurt super bad, but I think it’s really cool.”

The boy said this all extremely fast, Bucky had to blink a few times to register what he had said. A compliment? For his hand? A hand that’s maimed, killed, and caused so many people to suffer?

“Uh… I… I have a metal arm too.”

The little boy’s eyes widened even more. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but Bucky took off his glove and showed it to the boy.

He took Bucky’s hand in his and stared at it, looking back and forth at Bucky’s hand and his. Bucky stood there stiffly, unsure how to respond. The boy looked up at Bucky solemnly.

“Do you have super powers?” he whispered. 

Bucky couldn’t help but crack a smile at his seriousness, but before he could answer, a woman came running through the crowd.

“Noah!”

The boy turned to give her a lopsided grin. “Hi Mom!”

“How many times have I told you to stay by my side, young man?”

The boy, Noah, dropped Bucky’s hand and took a step closer to the woman. “Sorry. But Mom!”

A raised brow silenced Noah. The woman looked up at Bucky.

“I’m so sorry if he was bothering you. He’s very social.”

Bucky forgot how to speak for a minute. The woman standing in front of him was… well, he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as her. Bright, sparkling eyes confirming where Noah got his from, a soft voice, and a sweet smile.

“Oh, uh, no. I mean, he is. I mean‒” When was the last time he had gotten tongue-tied?

Bucky cleared his throat, forced himself to try to ignore the sweet smile that was widening, and tried again. “He wasn’t bothering me. We were just talking about‒”

“His metal arm! Look at it, Mom!” Noah hurries back to Bucky’s side and holds his mechanical hand. “Look how awesome it is! And it’s huge!” He started poking Bucky’s upper arm and gasps. “And so are his muscles!! I bet he could crush anything!”

Noah began miming picking up heavy objects or crushing imaginary things, complete with sound effects. Bucky doesn’t miss Noah’s mother’s eyes widen slightly when Noah pointed out how massive his biceps are.

“Noah, honey, why don’t we go check out the exhibit?”

“Oh yeah! Let’s go, Mom!” He nearly takes off again before giving his mother a sheepish smile.

“What did you do?”

“I… I turned our map into a paper airplane.”

“And?”

“And... it… flew out of my hands?”

“Mm hmm. I see. Well, I guess we’ll just have to come back another time.”

Noah gasps and clutches his mom’s hand. “No! Please Mom! Don’t do this to me!!”

Her laugh causes Bucky’s heart to skip a few beats, and it frustrates him that he doesn’t know why.

“Which exhibit are you looking for?”

Noah looks at Bucky and salutes. “We’re here to see the Mister Captain America exhibit.”

“I could take you guys there.”

What. On earth. Gave him that idea?!

“Woo! Let’s‒”

Noah’s cheer was cut off by his mother. “Oh, no that’s okay. I’m sure you’re busy and you probably have something to get to you.”

She’s right… Why did I even offer in the first place? I can’t‒

“It’s not a problem. I was heading over there right now actually.” 

Jesus! What’s wrong with me?

Noah grabbed his mother’s hand and followed Bucky to the famed exhibit.

~~~

“So, I take it Noah’s a fan of the Captain?”

The beautiful lady standing next to him nodded. “Yeah, Noah loves him; really looks up to him.”

“Makes sense, he’s a good guy.”

“Sounds like you’ve met him before.”

“You could say that.”

They were pulled away from their conversation when Noah ran up to them, grinning.

“Mom! Look how skinny Steve was! And, and his friend? Um… Bucky? Yeah! Bucky! He would always help Steve out because Steve would always get in fights! So Bucky would come and have to save him!” 

Noah then proceeded to animatedly tell his audience how Steve became the Captain and fought in the War. When he went to go read the display in front of Steve’s motorcycle, Bucky turned back to the woman.

“Is this his first time here?”

She nodded and smiled. “I promised I would take him when I had a day off. He’s been waiting for weeks.”

A pause.

“How ‘bout you?”

“What?” Damn that smile! He got distracted.

“I take it this isn’t your first time here?”

“No, ma’am.”

Her giggle caused his firm expression to slip into a small smile.

Bucky spent the rest of the afternoon showing Noah around. He learned that Noah and his mother had been in a terrible car accident two years before. The injuries Noah sustained to his right arm were irreversible, thus leading to an amputation, a prosthetic arm, and even though she didn’t say, expensive medical bills burdened on his mother.

When the museum closed, Noah was asking his mother when they’d be able to return.

“I’m not sure baby. How about next weekend?”

Noah did a little dance showing his affirmation. Then he looked at Bucky.

“Will you be here too, Mr. James?”

“Uh, yeah sure kid. I’ll be here.”

Noah fist pumped as his mother said goodbye to Bucky.

~~~

Holy shit. Holy shit! 

You had been trying to keep your cool ever since you found Noah with James. You were eating dinner and you still hadn’t gotten over him. That man was fucking stunning. Blue, blue eyes that were filled with such sorrow, a smile that made your insides flutter, and a deep voice you were willing to listen to for hours on end. Soft and sonorous. And he was so sweet and kind with Noah. That alone had you taking a liking to him.

“Mom?! Mom!”

“Oh— sorry, baby. What’s wrong?”

“Thanks for taking me to the museum.”

You ruffle his hair. “Thanks for being so patient for me.”

He smiles as he shovels pasta into his mouth. 

~~~

My Ride or Die:

@lehuka123 @thejournalman @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere @rebloggingeverything @just-the-hiddles @confetti-its-an-imagine-blog @thehumanistsdiary @fanfictionaries @astheworlddturns @bbarnestan @buckyfan12

[nordleuchten]

La Fayette in Prison - Part 2 - Magdeburg

After Wesel, off we go to Magdeburg. Here La Fayette and his fellow prisoners stayed from January 4, 1793 until January 4, 1794.  Just like Wesel, Magdeburg was and still is a prominent city in modern-day Germany (back then in Prussia). And just like Wesel, Magdeburg lies near a river, the Elbe to be precise. And again, the prison laid inside the city’s fortress. Large parts of the fortress are still intact and are the sites of numerous activities throughout the years, such as re-enactments, historic festivals, historic guided tour ... visitors are also free to request an individual guided tour, unrelated to any other activity. La Fayette is once more named as a noteworthy inmate by the Homepage of the organisation charged with taking care of the fortress. But he was far from the most prominent inmate – Germans at least will recognise the names of Fritz Reuter and Werner von Siemens (the guy who founded the company “Siemens”). Whoever created the Homepage either did not do their research or disliked La Fayette. It is stated that La Fayette attempted an coup d’état that failed and that he initiated the Champ the Mars massacre ... both statements are grossly oversimplified at best and utter nonsense at worst. During La Fayette’s stay Ludwig Karl von Kalkstein (then a Lieutenant-General) was the Governor of the prison and Otto Kasimir von Meerschneidt (then a Major-General) was its Commander.

La Fayette and is fellow Frenchmen were brought to Magdeburg by means of an open cart. What was in all likelihood intended to degrade them further, was actually a blessing for the prisoners. They now had fresh air and the open, blue sky in abundance, something that had been denied to them all those months prior. Something else happened as well. People recognized these august men and apparently also cheered for them. Where the Prussian and Austrian authorities had a keen dislike for La Fayette, the population was in large parts in favour of him (more on that in a bit). Though he may have been touched by the cheering, such outpours of affection did not help La Fayette endear himself to his jailers – not at all. Nevertheless, conditions at Magdeburg were better ... far from good, but better.

La Fayette was allowed to obtain some books. Among other things he read mostly about agriculture and this knowledge would later come in handy when he ventured into the farming business after his return to France in 1799. He was furthermore allowed to write and receive letter ... but there was a twist. You see, when a letter for La Fayette arrived, the authorities in Magdeburg would open it, read it and decide if La Fayette was allowed to receive this letter. If so, they would go into his cell and read the letter aloud to him exactly once. If he was allowed to reply, his letters were checked and if there was something in them that did not please his jailors, well, the letter then moved directly into the bin. Lovely!

Nevertheless, things were looking up for La Fayette and he started writing letters to the full extent of his possibilities. Although he ached to let his wife Adrienne know that he was more or less okay, he did nor dare to write her. She was still imprisoned in France and La Fayette feared that somebody there might recognise his handwriting and subsequently destroy the letter. Instead he tried to reach his English and American friends (both in America and as envoys in Europe).

La Fayette described his cell in a letter to an unknown friend in England:

“Imagine an opening made under the rampart of the citadel, and surrounded with a strong, high palisade; through this, after opening four doors, each armed with chains, bars, and padlocks, they come, not without some difficulty and noise, to my cell, three paces wide five and a half long. The wall is mouldy on the side towards the ditch, and the front one admits light, but not sunshine, through a little grated window. Add to this two sentinels, -- whose eyes penetrate into this lower region, but who are kept outside the palisade, lest they should speak other watchers not belonging to the guard, and all the walls ramparts, ditches, guards, within and without the citadel of Magdeburg, and you will think that the foreign powers neglect nothing to keep us within their dominions. The noisy opening of the four doors is repeated every morning to admit my servant; at dinner, that I may eat in presence of the commandant of the citadel and of the guard; and at night, to take my servant to his prison. After having shut upon me all the doors, the commandant carries off the keys to the room where, since our arrival, the king has ordered him to sleep. I have books, the white leaves of which are taken out, but no news, no newspapers no communications, -- neither pen, ink, paper, nor pencil. It is a wonder that I possess this sheet, and I am writing with a toothpick. My health fails daily (…).”

(I am a bit irked by the fact, that I can neither associated an recipient nor an exact date with the letter. The letter otherwise seems authentic and the content is similar to other letters by La Fayette that we have more information on – that being said, I gave the letter a pass although its provenance is not what I would like it to be.)

I have seen some people argue that La Fayette mostly managed to keep his spirits up, because he did not complained an awful lot in his letters – but when assessing such a statement, you have to keep in mind that La Fayette really could not complain a lot in his letters, otherwise they would never be posted. It is true though, that there were small betterments. I already mentioned the letters and books, but he and the other prisoners were also allowed to take regular walks in the yard of the prison. They walked separated from each other and were heavily guarded. But La Fayette fell ill again, this time with a fever. His illness was not as serious though as it had been at Wesel.

La Fayette also received some money from his friends in America. Some of his friends, such like Washington, privately send money for La Fayette to use. Thomas Jefferson, then Secretary of State, found a way for the Government to pay La Fayette some money. He argued that La Fayette had offered to serve in the Continental Army without pay but that there was no official document of the Continental Congress accepting this offer. It follows that the Treasury owned La Fayette six years of pay and furthermore ten years worth of interests since they had “forgotten” to pay him the money since the end of the war ten years prior. Jefferson wrote a letter to Washington on December 30, 1793:

“Soon after his captivity and imprisonment, and before the ministers had received our instructions to endeavor to obtain his liberation, they were apprised that his personal restraint, and the peculiar situation of his fortune disabled him from drawing resources from that, and would leave him liable to suffer for subsistence, and the common necessaries of life. After a consultation by letter, therefore, between our ministers at Paris, London, and the Hague, they concurred in opinion that they ought not in such a case to wait for instructions from hence, but that his necessities should be provided for until they could receive such instructions. Different sums have been therefore either placed at his disposal, or answered on his draughts, amounting, as far as we hitherto know to about twelve or thirteen hundred Guineas. This has been taken from a fund not applicable by law to this purpose nor able to spare it: and the question is whether, and how it is to be made good? To do this, nothing more is requisite than that the United States should not avail themselves of the Liberalities of M. de la Fayette, yielded at a moment when neither he nor we could foresee the time when they would become his only resource for subsistence. It appears by a statement from the war office, hereto annexed, that his pay and commutation as a major General in the service of the United States to the 3rd of nov. 1783 amounted to 24,100 dollrs thirteen Cents exclusive of ten years interest elapsed since that time, to the payment of which the following obstacle has occurred. at the foot of the original engagement by Mr Deane, a copy of which is hereto annexed, that a certain roll of officers there named, and of which M. de la Fayette was one, should be taken into the american service in the grades there specified, M. de la Fayette alone has subjoined for himself a declaration that he would serve without any particular allowance or pension. It may be doubted whether the words in the original French do strictly include the general allowance of pay and commutation. and if they do, there is no evidence of any act of acceptance by Congress. Yet, under all the circumstances of the case, it is thought that the legislature alone is competent to decide it. If they decline availing the United States of the declaration of M. de la Fayette, it leaves a fund which not only covers the advances which have been made, but will enable you take measures for his future relief. It does it too, in a way which can give offence to nobody, since none have a right to complain of the payment of a debt, that being a moral duty, from which we cannot be discharged by any relation in which the creditor may be placed as to them.”

Washington forwarded the letter to the Congress and on March 27, 1794 Congress passed a bill to pay La Fayette the money he had not accepted as a General during the Revolutionary War. To nobody’s surprise, neither Congress nor President Washington had any objections and the bill was approved swiftly.

Prisons in the 18th century (as well as today) often development into some sort of parallel society. Money and especially bribery could get you far in prison and La Fayette experienced that first hand. On November 18, 1809 La Fayette enclosed an account of his financial situation in a letter to Thomas Jefferson. It seems as if this lengthy report had been written by one of La Fayette’s secretaries. Here is a short excerpt of the English translation of the report:

“The expenses caused by his captivity were enormous; the prisoners had to pay their own way as long as their money lasted, and as General Lafayette was the only one with some money, he had to take responsibility for his fellow prisoners. But this was a small matter in comparison with all that his European friends did financially to save his life, to correspond with him, and to facilitate his escape. Some of them made great personal sacrifices, and the sums generously sent by the American government were swallowed up. General Lafayette’s family provided for its own expenses while living in Olmutz. So that on arriving at Hamburg after an imprisonment of five years he found nothing of what had been intended for him and only an increased debt to Mr. Gouverneur Morris up to the time when he was paid 68000.₶; to Mr. Parish former United States consul, forty three thousand Livres; to Mr. Bollman a contract reduced to 30000.₶”

(You see, a great deal of the financial troubles and transactions came after his stay in Magdeburg but since everything started in Magdeburg, I thought it convenient to discuss the monetary issue here in full.)

We see the United States taking actions to the best of their abilities and we see also more letters discussing La Fayette’s fate. News travelled slowly in the 18th century and it took the three months that La Fayette stayed in Wesel for the world to find out that he even had been arrested. But after the knowledge was out there, we see an increase in letters and also in newspaper coverage. So much so that Adrienne could read in the French newspapers that La Fayette was presently alive and in Magdeburg. We can further observe that people all other he world started petitioning the Prussian King for La Fayette’s relief. His friends, English Members of Parliament (although it would take a couple more years before the House of Commons would discuss the topic in full), Washington and his friends in America, Americas envoys in Europe, the list goes on. Some of La Fayette’s fellow prisoners, mostly unassuming secretaries and aids, had been released almost immediately and were now also trying to secure La Fayette’s freedom – some even returned to France to do so. We also see Prussians citizen petition their King. Most of these petitions were simple letters, but some petitioners had the money to spare and printed their petitions as pamphlets – many of them can today be found online.

Although the instructions for the guard were not less strict then they had been in Wesel, the guards in Magdeburg appeared to love to gossip. During his stay La Fayette was kept more or less up to date on the newest developments in France and the war. Eight months into his stay in Magdeburg he was also given some news about his wife Adrienne. La Fayette wrote Charles Pinckney in London on July 4, 1793:

My dear Sir,

Whilst on this anniversary my American fellow citizens are having their joy, I join in a solitary bumper with the happy remembrances, the patriotic wishes which are crowding upon us (...) Owning to your kind interference, my dear Sir, the crowned gaolers have consented after eight months to let me know that my wife and children were alive – be pleased to acquaint them that my health is tolerably good (...).

(Can we please acknowledge the fact that La Fayette took the time out of his day and remembered that it was the anniversary of American Independence?)

There is another letter that I want to give the spotlight. La Fayette wrote on March 15, 1793 to his friend, the Princess d’Hénin. In this letter he wrote that:

“I know not what disposition has been made of my plantation at Cayenne; but I hope Madame de Lafayette will take care that the negroes, who cultivated it, shall preserve their liberty.”

La Fayette had bought a plantation in the French colony of Cayenne and implemented a system of gradual emancipation. The plantation was later sold by French authorities and the people there re-enslaved. Although his endeavour ultimately failed I found it interesting to see that La Fayette, even during such a dark hour, thought about others as well.

Before we move on to the next prison, this time in Neisse, on last titbit. The Baron von Steuben, the absolutely legendary legend, was born in Magdeburg and as a man of military background probably spend some time in the fortress as well.

[pretty-setter-bois]

elephant in the banquet hall

request; please do a continuation of this!! i love it!! 😭

summary; the long-awaited prequel to elephant in the room — how a small interaction in hong kong led to an awkward tension, which might even lead to something more.

word count; 3343™

warnings; none, just a bit suggestive, an almost-car accident.

sequel

     “I’M BACK NOW.” haru announces, subconsciously tugging at his collar. 

“welcome back.” kamei greets, barely looking up from his screen.

“welcome back! how was hong kong? you ate a lot of yummy food, right?” saeki interrogates. 

he pauses for a second, blushing a little. “n-not so much...” he hands over a bag of mooncakes. “here's a gift for you guys.”

“wow! these mooncakes look so tasty! let's all have some!” saeki beams, taking them out of the bag. “huh? it's already open.

“sorry, i ate one as my share.” he apologizes, his tone anything but.

“you're so greedy. you ate a ton of delicious food, and on top of that you snacked on our gift?” kamei looks up to glare at him.

“i'm telling you, i didn't get to eat any good food.” haru sighs.

“but wasn't there a party at some fancy hotel after the symposium?”

“yeah, there was a party, but...”

     KATO WALKS UP to you and daisuke, a plate in his hands. “i'm starving... i finally managed to get two slices of the roast beef... i usually don't get to eat expensive cuts like this.” he eyes his food, earning a small chuckle from you as you eye your own plate. “huh? aren't you going to eat?” he turns to daisuke.

“no.” daisuke deadpans.

“what's wrong with you? here, i'll give you a slice. i waited in line for 10 minutes for this, so eat it with care.” he puts a piece on daisuke’s plate.

the black-haired man is reluctant, but takes a bite nonetheless. he immediately places his fork down, patting his mouth down with a napkin.

“this is so tough it's inedible. the quality of the meat is bad, and it's overcooked.” he begins to complain.

“what? stop complaining and eat.” haru furrows his eyebrows, something he did a lot around the millionaire. “someday, you're going to get what you deserve.”

“i'm heading over to a different restaurant now. do you want to come?” he asks, standing up.

“i’m fine, thank you.” you smile.

“this is plenty good for me, see you later.” haru says, cutting his food.

he walks off, leaving you and haru alone.

“sheesh, he's such a jerk... how do you raise someone to be such a picky eater?” haru rambles, and you laugh again.

“don’t get mad at him. why didn’t you go with him, anyway?” you ask.

he turns his head towards you, taking in your appearance. you look stunning — not that you usually don’t — and he forgets that you’ve asked him a question.

“kato?” you ask again.

“oh, uh, i didn’t want this food to go to waste.”

i want to stay with you.

you finish your food, drying your hands on the warm towels the banquet had gifted you with and popping the peppermints they gave you in your mouth. you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

on the other hand, haru is stopped by a man on his way out. “hello? are you from japan?”

“huh? oh...” kato switches languages. “i'm japanese.”

“i would like to ask about the police box system in japan.” the man states.

“in japan...?” haru tilts his head, confused.

"yes, about the police box system.”

"s-sorry...” the taupe-haired man apologizes, unable to comprehend ‘police box system’.

he hears a voice behind him, turning his head to find you.

“oh, the police box system?” you answer in flawless english. “it’s a box-like phone-station, created so that we’re able to reach the police at anytime.”

“ah, really?” answers the man. “i’m from the united states, here’s my card.” he hands you a card. “i’m here on business to research ways to better the police system in america.” (as he should).

“any more questions?” you ask, looking down at his card.

“oh, no. i just wanted to get a vague idea of what they did. thank you.” he grins, and you could’ve sworn he winked, “don’t worry, the number is international.”

“alright, goodbye.” you wave with a smile.

“actually, i do have one question-” the man begins.

“sorry, we have to go.” haru tries to get to the point with the little english he knew.

the man nods warily, leaving to find someone else to speak to. “see you around.”

haru turns around to you, his face solemn. “come on, we have to go.”

     “SO THAT’S WHY i didn't get a chance to eat.” haru explains, leaving out the last part.

“i can see why that happened. after all, it was an after party for an international symposium.” saeki nods.

“my english score was like 70 points out of 200 back when i took the national center test for university admissions.” he continues.

“how were you able to even join the metropolitan police department?” kamei squints. “anyways, you're like the most japanese person i know. you’re lucky (L/N) was there to save you.”

“oh yeah!” saeki says. “where is (L/N)-chan anyways?”

“ah...” haru’s mind trails to last night, and he shakes his head. “she called in sick today, said she caught a cold out of nowhere.”

“hm, strange...” kamei places his chin in his hand. “(L/N) usually doesn’t call in sick, even if she does have a cold.”

“maybe she’d really sick, we shouldn’t bother her.” haru tries to redirect the conversation.

“what could get (L/N)-san so sick to the point where she’d have to call in sick?” saeki ponders, and haru coughs to avoid gulping.

“so, did you end up missing your chance to eat?” kamei finally changes the topic.

“no, i didn't have a choice, so i tagged along with kambe to go eat.” haru exhales a sigh of relief.

“oh, so you were able to eat something delicious after all.” kamei nods.

“actually, that’s not really the case...”

“wait, i'm not sure if i understand. you got to eat, or you didn't?”

“i guess you can say i ate something...” he thinks of the mooncake, then trailing off to the thought of you. he lightly shakes his head again.

"the fact that you went to eat with kambe means that you went to a super high-end restaurant, right? how much was it? how was the meal?”

“500,000 yen.”

“you're kidding me!” saeki exclaims. “500,000?! that's way more than my monthly salary!”

“it's more than my salary, too. but... expensive doesn't necessarily mean good...” haru rubs the back of his neck.

     THE THREE OF you arrive at a high-end restaurant, one which daisuke seems to be familiar with. you and haru awe at the place, thinking of how expensive it must be.

"what's up with this place... it's so extravagant... but it's empty.” haru notes.

“i reserved the entire restaurant. i eat here often when i'm in hong kong.” daisuke explains.

“i see...” haru nods.

"menu, please.” the waiter greats in cantonese.

although you were better than haru at english, you were considerably clueless when it came to cantonese. he seems to pick up on this.

"thank you.” he thanks the waiter.

he turns to you, giving a brief explanation of the items on the menu and letting you pick.

“i'm starving... i missed out on that roast beef, so i'm craving meat...” he mutters.

“and i missed out on my desert because of you.” you tease jokingly, receiving a sheepish smile from the taupe-haired man.

“there's so many different kinds... meat... meat... meat... here it is. this must be where the meat section starts... let's see... 'pear, piece, with, steam, fruit, small, raccoon dog'... what is this?” he reads the menu aloud to you.

"pear slices with steamed civet.” daisuke answers.

“i can accept the pears... but civets? aren't they similar to raccoon dogs?”

"raccoon dogs are canines, civets are part of the viverridae family. they are completely different species.”

"you're missing the point.” haru says. “fine, i'll pick something else... have you decided, (L/N)?”

“no... i’ve never heard of these food before.” you admit.

"what's this? 'steamed, camel, peak'...” haru reads.

"that's steamed camel hump.” daisuke says.

"pass. let's see... 'boar, brain, temporary, leopard, fetus...”

"that one? you might think that it's stewed leopard fetus, but it's actually pig brains...”

“what the hell do these rich people eat...” you mutter.

"hey! isn't there any normal food here?!” haru yells, seeming to have read your thoughts.

"you sure complain a lot.” daisuke says nonchalantly.

“i'm not complaining! i just want to eat some normal chinese food!”

"this is normal chinese food for me. what do you mean by normal?”

"that would be...” he pauses to think. “for instance, fried rice, potstickers, or congee, you know? like stuff they sell at street food stalls. you don't have to be eating civets or camel humps to have good food!”

daisuke pauses. “a street food stall... i've never been to one...”

“then let's get some street food. the food stalls are cheap and rowdy, and you can always get a taste of the local culture.” haru looks around the restaurant. “what about you, (L/N)?”

“only if you pick what i eat.” you chuckle, earning an eager grin.

“HEUSC, find the best food stall we can get to in one hour.” daisuke presses on his earring.

"understood. balance: unlimited.” HEUSC answers.

the sounds of a helicopter approaching can be heard, waiting for the three detectives to get in. 

“so, where are we?” haru asks.

"a food stall.” deadpans daisuke.

"i know that! you just shoved us on to a chopper and took us to an unknown place, so i'm asking you where the hell we are!”

“this is macau. according to HEUSC, the best food stall within an hour's travel was this one located in sam chan dang, macau-”

"so we came to hong kong for nothing!”

"you sure complain a lot.”

haru sighs, cradling his head in his hands. “why can't we just have an ordinary meal...”

you pat his back reassuringly, a bit excited to see what daisuke has in store for the three of you.

“here you go. sorry to make you wait.” the man says in cantonese, serving you your food.

“well... it does look really tasty...” haru admits.

“yeah.” daisuke nods.

"well, we might as well dig in. i'm absolutely starving.” haru picks up his chopsticks.

“hold on!” daisuke interrupts.

“what now?”

“HEUSC mentioned the possibility of a food safety issue at this stall.”

“don't worry about details like that. this is a food stall, so not everything's gonna be perfect-”

"i can't allow that. HEUSC checked the surrounding radius of 10 meters, and found 7 rats and 48 cockroaches-”

"hey! i just lost my appetite!”

“can we go home?” you ask, already tired.

“oh no...” daisuke says, disregarding what you said.

"hey... what is it this time?” haru sighs.

"we're going back to hong kong.” he states

"huh? why?” you ask.

"the store that i was planning to buy souvenirs at closes in 30 minutes.” daisuke says.

"souvenirs? just buy something from a store that's open!” haru states.

"i can't do that.”

“actually, kambe, me and kato won’t bother you. we’ll look for a food stand, and you get your souvenirs. we’ll tell you when find one.”

haru’s a bit surprised by your words, but would rather spend time with you than hopping restaurants with daisuke.

daisuke nods, waving goodbye and hopping in his helicopter. you wave back, deciding to begin your search for a place to eat, haru close behind, of course.

“look! that place looks good!” you point, light on your feet.

you’re so excited that you don’t notice the truck driving on the road until the horn is almost by your ear.

haru grabs you back by the arm, holding you close as your mind tries to register what happened.

“i’m not letting you out of my sight.” he says, just loud enough for you to hear, bur firm.

you nod, quiet. what if haru hadn’t been there? what would’ve happened then?

a soft squeeze to the hand he’s been holding is all you need for reassurance. you wonder when he began to hold it.

he leads the two of you across to the restaurant that you saw, and you reread the sign.

“motel.” you squint. you take a quick glance of the stores open around you, and this one seems to be the only one. “i think everything else is closed. let’s check if they have food.”

the bell by the door jingles at your entrance, and the secretary at the desk turns to face you.

“hello, we were wondering if there was anywhere we could eat?” you ask.

“the buffet is open for about an hour, but only for the people who have rooms registered.” she answers.

you nod, and watch haru look down at his phone.

“kambe isn’t gonna be here for a while.” he informs you.

“we’ll get a room.” you nod.

she turns around to get the paperwork ready, and haru’s eyes widen.

“what do you mean? we have to leave tomorrow!” he whispers.

“don’t worry,” you assure him. “we’ll sign out early in the morning.”

the secretary turns around and hands you a piece of paper to fill out, to which you finish quickly and hand back to her.

“here’s your bill.” she states.

you’re relieved that it isn’t expensive, as you haven’t brought much money with you in the first place.

“um, excuse me?” you call.

“yeah?” she answers.

“this says single, we asked for a double.” you point to the paper.

haru has to gulp to avoid showing his embarrassment.

“sorry, but we only have one-bed rooms available.” she explains. “it doesn’t seem to be a problem between the two of you, though.”

your faces get red, and you quickly pay. the two of you awkwardly scurry off to the buffet, which you have previously been told is free.

you eat your meals in silence, ‘itadkimasu’ and occasional questions with one-word answers asked, but nothing else.

a ringing phone is what finally snaps the two of you out of it, and you look up to see that it’s haru’s.

“huh?! what do you mean you followed him home?! you don’t have enough space for us?! another flight?!” haru almost yells into his phone, before the other line beeps. “ugh.”

“what happened?” you ask.

“ah...” he nervously rubs at his neck. “daisuke bought too many souvenirs, and there was no place for us to fit.”

“the flight is supposed to be...” you look down at your watch. “right now!”

“yeah, he got us another.”

“when?”

“tomorrow...”

you nod, realizing that you would actually need to stay at the motel.

“it’s a good thing we made early reservations then...”

“yeah...”

     THE TWO OF you enter the reserved room, deciding to might as well get comfortable.

“hey, kato?” you ask. “i’m going to shower, can you look for a futon or something like that?”

he nods, leaving you to the bathroom and him to his thoughts.

the bathroom didn’t have any shampoo or conditioner, just a soap dispenser that serves as a reminder as to why you don’t like hotels.

you dry yourself off, placing on your previous clothes and cursing your past self for wearing something to uncomfortable.

you step out of the bathroom, a towel around your neck as you dry your hair. he notices you and instantly gets up, looking at you in worry.

“i... couldn’t find a futon...”

“it’s fine.” you sigh, placing the towel on a rack. “we’re adults, right?”

he nods, trying to make his gulp unnoticeable.

both your shoes had been placed by the door, and your jacket hung by his on a chair. his tie was on the bedside table, and only then had you noticed that the first few buttons of his shirt were open.

your backs were against each other, trying to get comfortable on the bed with a small pillow in-between you as a divider.

“hey, kato?” you call out. “sorry for getting you into this mess. we could’ve stuck with daisuke instead, but...”

“it’s fine.” he answers. “though, i don’t think i’ll be able to get any sleep tonight.”

“me either.”

the two of you turn to face each other, moving the pillow out of the way. you haven’t noticed the close proximity between you until his hot breath meets yours.

until you look at how his eyes darken, how good his hair looks messy, and confirm that his top buttons are indeed open.

it starts with a small kiss, really. are his lips as soft as they look? that’s all you want to confirm, and confirm you do.

you don’t remember how his shirt ends up on the floor, or how your dress is unzipped. what you do remember, is that it is the best night’s sleep you’ve gotten in a long time.

     YOU WOKE UP the next morning with a headache and a few hours of sleep, his phone buzzing on the table beside you.

he reaches to grab it, answering the call with a deep tone. “yeah, we’ll be there.” the call ends soon after. “it’s time to go.”

“i want to sleep.” you mumble.

“you can sleep on the plane.” he helps you up. “come on.”

the two of you get ready for your flight back to japan, and sign out at the front desk of the motel. you make sure to zip up your jacket all the way.

you arrive at the airport, and shortly board the plane after. you try to fall asleep, but the turbulence and noise make it hard to do so.

your headache has gotten worse, and you make a mental note to never shower before bed again.

daisuke greets you both in japan, dropping you off at haru’s home after one look at your condition. you’re far too tired to argue, and head to bed the moment you make it there.

   “THE FACT THAT we have mooncakes here means that he really made the chef make some...” saeki notes.

"yeah, he got ahold of the chef just as he got home. apparently, he made the chef return to the shop immediately to make some mooncakes right in front of his eyes.” haru explains.

“what do you mean? weren’t you there?” kamei asks.

“ah, i went to grab... dinner with (L/N).” haru sweats.

“that must have annoyed the chef,” kamei thinks. “bringing him back to the restaurant to cook, i mean.”

"but actually... you can't quite say that.”

"why? no matter how you look at it, what he did was out of line.”

“kambe bought the mooncakes for 5 million yen per box.”

"how many boxes did he buy?” saeki questions.

"this one, and the one box for his grandmother.” kato sighs.

“in other words, 10 million yen for two boxes of mooncakes... let's see, so there's 10 pieces in each box. so each piece is 500,000 yen...” kamei concludes.

"oh! so that means your dinner last night was...” saeki thinks.

"besides the food i ate with (L/N), it was this mooncake. i ate one on the flight back.” haru stands up. “i have to get her her mooncake, i was just stopping by to make sure everyone had one.”

“give her our best wishes!” waves saeki.

haru nods, wrapping your mooncake in a cloth and leaving the building. he is tired, but the fatigue he was feeling was nothing compared to yours.

he remembers that daisuke had dropped you off at his home, since neither knew your address and the black-haired man needed to get to work.

he opens the door to his apartment, hanging his jacket by the door and placing the mooncake on the table. he brings it to your sleeping form with a few headache tablets and a glass of water, leaving it on the bedside table.

he grabs a few of his clothes and heads in the the shower, drying off and deciding to take a short nap on the couch afterwards.

he falls asleep shortly, forgetting about the elephant in the room which waited to greet the two of you once you’ve woken up.

NOTES ♕❣⁂ღ

long awaited part two! i thought a prequel would be the best way to write a second part, and they can be read in any order :)

this story also takes place betweem episode two and episode four, during the flight to hong kong.

[dansantat]

NOW WE ARE TWO: A Eulogy for My Father

Adam U Santat (October 21,1943 - April 27, 2021)

Today is April 27, 2021.

When I was very young and we lived in New Jersey my father took us to the beach and he lifted my tiny frame over his neck and we walked out into the ocean together. My mother watched us from the coast as we wandered 50 yards into the shallow sea. I was terrified of whatever lurked in the water convinced that sharks would come and eat us. My father gripped my legs and whispered, “I’ve got you. You don’t have to be afraid.”

I don’t exactly know why this particular memory rests so clearly in my mind, but it’s a good one. That was my father in a nutshell.

I interviewed my parents for a memoir I’m currently working on. This is what I know of my father. 

He was born in the small village of Khlong Dan, Thailand on October 21, 1943, though the official birth certificate indicates October 27 because of a typo (21 sounds like 27 in Thai)  He was the youngest of nine kids. His parents immigrated from China and started a merchant business. For fear of being racially ostracized by the local Thai people the oldest brother changed their name from “Lim” to “Santativongchai” (he found the word in an old book)

They collected rain water off the storm gutters in order to drink. He didn’t get hie first pair of shoes until he was 10 years old. They were sandals, really. Knowing facts abut Western culture was cool and he had an insatiable desire to learn everything he could about America. Coming to the United States was a dream of his obsessed with Elvis Presley, Paul Anka, and movies like “Shane” He admits to being spoiled by his mother and says he was lazy during most of his childhood, but was gifted in math and science. And he truly was. He attended medical school, paid for by his older sister, Yawanit, and he came to Newark, New Jersey in 1969 to do his internship.

My mother followed a year later

His first car was a Red ‘69 Camaro. No air conditioning. He ran the car into the ground because he was unaware of the fact that you had to change the oil. He never owned a car before then.   

This was the American dream.

I was born in 1975 and they soon made a mass exodus to Southern California along with many of their Thai doctor friends with brief career stops in Wykoff, New Jersey and Hopedale, Illinois until we settled in our newly built four bedroom home in Camarillo, CA. 

He worked for the state of California as a pediatrician, and eventually as a cardiologist, and then a psychiatrist continuing his education over the years to fill the needs of the state. He was an accomplished man in his field.

He loved golf, tennis, and buying things he would see on TV. He loved Ralph Lauren clothing, he owned one of the first Apple computers, and he loved making weekly trips to Los Angeles to buy classical CDs and audio equipment.   

Three weeks ago I stepped inside my parent’s home for the first time in over a year. The COVID-19 Pandemic had kept us apart . “Stay at home. We’ll see each other after this is all over.” my parents told me. 

Under normal circumstances I would happily avoid their company for fear of constant nagging about a plethora of reasons which mostly dealt with my weight, or my political views.   

But this was different. 

My father had been diagnosed with Stage 4 liver cancer and he returned home to hospice care. My mother was helping him get situated on his favorite couch because he refused to use the hospital bed that hospice had offered him and recommend that he use.

They say that doctors make the worst patients. 

Besides his stubbornness my mother was angry at him for not putting up a fight, turning down Chemotherapy and Immunotherapy and opting to just let the cancer take him. She herself having been a breast cancer survivor over 25 years ago (along with living with lupus for 45 years) could not comprehend the thought of just giving up. But my father knew the odds. He had taken one look at the CT scan and he knew the primary source was in the liver and it has metastasized to the lungs, his jaw, and his pelvis. 

His body was dying but his mind was still as sharp as a tack.

I understood the diagnosis, as well. When speaking to the doctor on the phone he did not mince words by emphasizing quality of life. My father’s days were limited, and I was there to make the most of the time that was left between us before he departed. 

“I have one last question for you before I go.” he said to me.

“Anything. What’s your question, Dad?”

“How much....do you earn annually?”

My mother and I quickly glanced at each other and we both immediately let out a huge laugh. “HA HA HA! You have one last question and that’s what you want to ask me?!”

He was always curious about my finances. 

He is my Asian father. 

Normally, this type of question would be a point of heated contention and it would typically result in an argument at a restaurant, and yet, here he is living his last weeks and he STILL wouldn’t let the question go. And this time, without argument, I simply tell him. 

Why deny a dying man his last wish?

“I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” he shouts as we all share in a good laugh.

“I have one more question...”

“What is it, Dad?”

“Why do you always get upset when I ask you that question?”

This too would have normally resulted in a heated discussion, but I simply gave him an honest and simple answer, “Because you taught me that it was rude to ask people that question.” And I left it at that.

My mother gets up and heads to the kitchen and it’s in this moment that my father pulls me in closer to discuss more pressing matters. 

“I don’t want you to worry about me. I’ve accepted my fate and I’ve lived a good life. I’m worried about your mom. I want you to take care of her after I’m gone.”

“Of course.”

“I’ve saved up a lot of money. Use it to buy a house with a guest house for her. Make sure it has a big yard so she can do her gardening and she’ll be fine.”

 “I promise, Dad. I’ll spoil her.” 

“Good.”

My mother returns to the family room with an assortment of shirts for my father to wear. I grab a blue button up collared shirt from Tommy Bahama. “This shirt actually isn’t too shabby.”

“It was originally $125 and I got it for $90!”

Always in pursuit of looking his best while also landing a great deal.

He is my Asian father.  

“If you like the shirts they’re yours now. All of this is yours.”

None of the items that my father owned interested me. What interested me was giving him one last amazing experience before he was gone. The one thing my father truly treasured among all his possessions was a one of the finest wine collections I had ever seen. It contained over 500 bottles of wines he had collected over the course of twenty years housed in three separate wine refrigerators, which were spread throughout different rooms in the house and sent their electricity bill skyrocketing to the moon, and my mother’s nerves to the very edge of insanity. 

“Hey, what do you think about going into your wine collection and we drink the most expensive wine you have?”

“No,” he says hesitantly.

“But don’t you want to know what you bought? Don’t you want to at least know what the best wine you own tastes like? I don’t think you should leave this world without enjoying your one great vice in life.”

My father looks away from me and mutters, “No...It’s yours now. All of it.”

This is not how I want it to end. I want him to have one last good memory.

My mother interrupts, “I’m hungry. What are we having for lunch?”

I try to keep my father focused on his bucket list. I’m hoping for just one last memory, “Whatever you want, Dad. My treat.”

He looks at me and says, “I want a Pink’s hot dog.”

My mother and I look at each other in shock. This request from a man who was obsessed with his blood pressure. A man who constantly avoided salt like it was Kryptonite to Superman was now requesting for one of the saltiest most nitrate rich foods in America. 

“With mustard and relish.”

25 minutes later I returned home with three sodium bombs per his request. My father, who hadn’t eaten in three days, grabbed a hold of his hot dog, and ate the entire thing. My father, a man who did everything in his power to stave off death by cardiovascular disease to the point of obsession, was indulging in the one thing he avoided like the plague. 

SALT. 

As I sat on the couch and watched him eat his hot dog I could see the look on his face as he solemnly took each bite thinking, “What was the point of being so scared for all these years?” I took solace in the fact that for the first time in my life, I saw him as a person unafraid.  

 Later that day, a few of his closest friends came over to wish him well. I met them at the front door, “Hey, do me a favor. Can you see if you can make him agree to having one last glass of wine?”

It was a good idea.

HIs friends all walked in, paid their respects, and then peppered him with little hints like, “Hey, how about one last sip of wine before you go?”

My dad finally agreed.

“That fridge has the best stuff!” my dad shouted as he pointed to the fridge closest to the door. 

I was not as knowledgable about fine wines as my dad and his friends were. That’s what Google is for.    

I reached into the back of the fridge and found a bottle of Opus One from 1995. 

This was $600 bottle of wine. It wasn’t his best but it it would do nicely.

The room let out an audible “oooooh” when I entered the room with the bottle.

His best wine glasses were brought out, we each poured a glass, and we toasted my father. We share stories about his life, he boasts to his friends about my accomplishments, and we are basking in a moment of complete harmony.

For this moment in time, I was his perfect Asian son.

He thoughtfully studied the peaks generated by the swirling of the wine on the edge of the glass

“It’s been a good life. No regrets.”

I was glad I could give him this.

This week I bought that house for my mom. I told my father this as I fulfilled his last dying wish while I held his hand.

“I’ve got you, Dad. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“I’ve got you.”

[bibliophilicwitch]

I need to layout my reading plans because I have started too many and want to read too many immediately. Generally speaking, I prefer audiobooks because it allows me to multitask, but I cannot always get an audiobook so I like to have one fiction audiobook and one nonfic audiobook in addition to picking up physical/ebooks up to one fiction and one nonfiction.

Upon a Burning Throne by Ashok K Banker; fiction audiobook; [Started during AAPI Month; it had been on my radar for quite some time and I watched a new review that pushed me to pick it up. Unfortunately, while the style of writing feels like a classic epic legend and is often quite lyrical, this style has never been a favorite of mine because I never get the emotions I depend on to enjoy a book so this long-ass book is taking forever and I do not think I am likely to pick up the sequels.]

The City We Become by NK Jemison; fiction audiobook [Everyone sings Jemison's praises, but I've found that for me her style isn't far off from literary fantasy which always feels distant from the characters and makes it difficult to connect and feel for them. The premise of The City We Become really piqued my interest because it plays into my animism and the discussions of chaos magic and pop-culture magic. Unfortunately, I didn't read it fast enough and it returned on me with another month's wait until I can get it back.]

Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie; fiction physical book [Picked this up to have a physical book only for City We Become to become available for check out, so it ended up being ignored. I had high hopes of finishing this trilogy over Memorial Day weekend. lmao] -> Ancillary Sword -> Ancillary Mercy [The rest of this series I can easily attain in audiobook, so once I finish the first I can binge them quick... eventually.]

Learning Curves by Ceillie Simkiss; fiction ebook [I should'nt've started this fluffy, short queer romance until I had finished at least Ancillary Justice, but I just needed an ace romance to kick off Pride Month and then I got overwhelmed by everything I'm reading. Also there's very little plot and no real forward momentum so I'm a bit disappointed?] -> Beyond the Black Door by AM Strickland; fiction physical [Dark YA fantasy with an asexual main character and a villain romance. Sounds like a good Pride Month read!] -> How to be a Normal Person by TJ Klune; fiction ebook [Moooooore ace-queer romance! By the TJ Klune!]

Urban Magick: A Guide for the City Witch by Diana Rajchel; nonfiction ebook [Started this during Memorial Day weekend thinking I would finish it and fell to a crawl after getting back from vacation. It has an interesting take on city magic and spirituality, but I'm not sure it really meshes with my personal practice, so I am kinda ambivalent on this one.] -> Library Marketing Basics by Mark Aaron Polger; nonfiction physical [Over the summer my position at my library is transitioning from adult programming to marketing and social media and while I have good grounding in navigating social media platforms, I do not have formal education in marketing for a non-profit business. I have about five books that specifically focus on library marketing that I will be starting to read with this one being highly recommended as a place to start. My physical reading is going to be tied up in professional development for a while since none of the titles I am looking at are available in audio format.] -> Marketing Your Library: Tips and Tools That Work by Carol Smallwood; nonfiction ebook -> The Accidental Library Marketer by Cordelia Anderson; nonfiction physical book

Of Blood and Bones: Working with Shadow Magick and the Dark Moon by Kate Freuler; nonfiction audiobook [So many occult books right now and I'm not super stoked to keep picking this one up rn so it may be set aside to be picked up at a later date.] -> The Invisible Orientation: An Introduction to Asexuality by Julie Sondra Decker; nonfiction audiobook -> An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz -> The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America by Richard Rothstein

Okay, lots of notes. I'm going to check back in at the end of the weekend. Hopefully I'll have finished a couple of books so I feel a bit more in control of my reading and less overwhelmed by all the books I picked up and put back down.

[angelkurenai]

Imagine Steve wanting to introduce you, his fiance, to his friends for a long time  but hesitating because he hasn’t told them something about your past and how you met. You were once his student.

“And then I tell him that if he wants 'em, he can come and have 'em since he knows my place. Simple as that. In what way, shape or form is that considered insulting? Pepper didn't let me hear the end of it!” Tony was sitting in the white couch, as expected, waved his hands animatedly; effectively earning everyone's attention in the room. More than one carefully eyeing the cup of coffee in his one hand, one of whom being the owner of the office and therefore said white couch.

“Tony” was however the only warning he got this time because, luckily for him, said owner was busy between his files and a chaos going on through his mind and heart. Mind due to work, mostly, and heart due to more personal issues both for good and less good reasons.

“And you think she's without reason?” Natasha raised an eyebrow at her friend.

“I think she's without reason to be so overdramatic. She's fussing over everything these days and I don't even want to think about the way she'll react when I tell her about the party. With all the guests and the preparations, and f course drinks I'll be the one to choose because Stark Industries owes this much to friends and colleagues, but I'm-” he paused, as if being striked by an idea – how not surprising – in the middle of his rambling. This time it was to look, or more specifically, glare at his friend wo didn't notice something was up until silence had set into the room.

“Rogers!” he nearly exclaimed, not a second after they'd made eye-contact, not tat it lasted long because Steve couldn't help but glance at his phone – you hadn't texted him all day and he wasn't clingy but that wasn't how it was between you two – much as he wanted to not look away from Tony because who knows what would be said his way or thrown.

“You're Rogers? Why, Tony, you are the fiance after all?” Clint joked, toying with a pencil as if it were a drumstick “And you got married without telling us too? Oh wow.”

“Oh I'd be a handful for him, trust me. We already argue too much for that but-” he jumped up from his seat as he stalked his friend's desk, eyes narrowed at him “That was exactly what I had in mind: Steve's wonderful fiance who has oh-so-accidentally missed every single party I've housed for the past year and a half. Now, I don't know how suspicious that makes you, because it certainly makes me very suspicious for good-boy Rogers here and I think that before any explanations, which you'll definitely have to give, is an answer to this-” he drew in a long breath “Will we be meeting future Mrs Rogers this time, Captain, or have you come up with another excuse to avoid this?”

“Alright-” Steve cleared his throat, subtly but certainly very uncomfortably shifting in his place “First of all, I haven't been coming up with any excuses. Those were real reasons and I have by no means been trying to avoid it. Timing wasn't right and it's not like you always warn me in advance for me to plan ahead of time, as if anyone could keep up with you. Not that he is anywhere near less busy herself, Tony.” he shrugged, not making eye-contact, as he placed back all of the folders in their respective drawers “Maybe next time you should plan ahead of time, maybe next time you should just make a phone call since you know I'm not that good with messages or emails or anything else. Maybe, just maybe, you should even reconsider altogether, this and every other time, since we've all got work to do and it would be better if we didn't have that too. I'm just-”

“Incredible.” Tony breathed out, loud enough to cut his friend off “Simply incredible. Does-” he turned to Natasha, pointing at Steve “Does Fury do that? Do new teachers, like, train on how to be spies? History teacher by morning, secret Agent by night. And hey, Captain America can be far from just your nickname now, Steve!” Tony exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air “No, I mean it-” tony continued when he noticed the look he got from his friend “That was simply so masterful, so skillful. Changing the subject so easily and not giving an answer to mine either, yet again, is incredible on a whole new level.”

“I didn't- I'm-” Steve blinked, losing any and every ability to form a proper sentence because truth be told he had expected to get away with that much once more and it seemed like every worry he'd had for the ast couple days – ever since Tony casually brought up that he needed to do another gathering after all this time – seemed to resurface and slowly make his worst nightmares seem all the more likely to happen in real life.

“There are no excuses, guys, I'm being honest. It simply has not come up yet, that's all. I assure you, she'd very much love to meet you too.” he said but for one reason or another he still couldn't meet anyone's eyes. Those weren't lies, he knew, but hiding the truth – the entire truth that he couldn't bear to be out with yet – wasn't by any means easier in any way.

“And that's why we're not blaming you for anything, nobody is. Right Tony? Right?” Bruce asked with a pointed look at the man who rolled his eyes and dramatically flopped back in his previous seat “We'd just like to, to put it in simple words, meet the newest member of the family. Or the member-to-be. You clearly love that woman and, based on what you say, she does too. We'd just... like to know her, welcome her properly no matter what.”

Steve couldn't say it out loud, not yet, but he would admit it to himself that those last three words gave him more hope than anything else. No matter what. He wished so bad they'd think the same, all of them, both now and especially after meeting you. It wasn't that he wasn't proud of you. He was the happiest man on Earth to be by your side, to have you say yes to a marriage with him was something out of his wildest dreams and yet it was happening, and he was certainly the most proud fiance already for everything you'd achieved. And nobody could even dare to question if he was in love with you because it was written all over his face, in the way he smiled and he brightened up when he spoke about you, that showed how much in love with you he was.

But none of it was enough to shake his worries away. Not the support he already had from is family, not the acceptance he always found in them and not even, sadly, how much of a catch you already were. All that paled in comparison to-

“Ah speak for yourself, Bruce. I'm gonna be showing up at your doorstep to drag the both of you out if I have to. So you-” Tony spoke up, and breaking Steve's trail of thoughts he pointed a finger at him “Prepare for everything. I'm going to find out more about her soon and yes, that means I expect to see you both at the party although you gave me no answer yet. You tell her or I'll send a personal invitation.”

“Well-” he cleared his throat, turning to face his friends “To be quiet honest, I have more pressing matters in my mind right now than your party Tony, I'm sorry for that.” only half a lie, because all of his problems lately had to do with said parties and meetings – which in reality stemmed from one issue: the way he'd introduce you to his friends and only family “And- Weren't we talking about a different topic here? I liked that one better than what my day and night activities are.”

“Oh I certainly am not interested to know about the nightly ones. Keeping your fiance satisfied is your business alone, Steve.” Natasha chuckled, speaking up at last “The beard speaks enough for itself.” that earned more than a few chuckles and a look from Steve “But even I have to side with Tony here on the fact that it's been really too long. When are we going to meet her at last?”

“I'm sorry, did you just agree with me? I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around that. What is the date? Barton, not that down, quick!”

“Tony” Bruce chastised his friend who raised his hands in surrender once more.

“I never said that I didn't want you to meet her.” Steve said with a sigh “Nor that you are not going to meet her. You will, at some point, and no Tony I don't mean the wedding. You'll meet her sooner.”

“I bet you could avoid that too by not inviting me to it.” Tony snorted and despite everything, it earned a chuckle from everyone.

“Don't give me any ideas. Well-” he sighed again softly, relaxing more “It's only... it's more complicated than it and though I wish I could explain it all, I feel like I don't even know where to start sometimes. It's hard. It's not bad or sad or anything like that, I'm just-” he paused, eyebrows furrowed deeply “It's a mess, in my head. All of it. Then again, I think it has always been, I won't lie. But I will sort it out, sooner than later, I promise that. And you'll get to meet her. Right now is just- it's not the time.”

His words earned him warm smiles and nods, just like a soft hum. A moment of silence, content and understanding amongst longtime friends, even though he had mostly avoided giving a direct answer or dealing with the issue at hand, followed until-

“But what if... she's in prison?” Tony's eyes were trained on the floor but his words effectively earned a few groans and ended the peace that had settled “Was in prison? No, no, think about it. Maybe she's a serial killer and Steve here doesn't want us to know? Maybe, he helped her escape? Maybe he helped in the crime too!”

“Oh gosh, Tony.” Steve rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but laugh.

“Hey, you're not directly denying it. And you're avoiding eye-contact. Did I hit a nerve? I hit a nerve!” Tony pointed at him but Steve only shook his head “Now I really wanna meet her.”

“Says the man who called the actual president of the United States “sweetheart” because that's why Pepper didn't let you hear the end of it. You said “If you want 'em, you can come and have 'em since you know my place, sweetheart.” loud and clear.” Steve pointed out.

“Hey, they're my inventions, ok, I'm not about to hand them over. So you know what? I had every right to! What would you do capsicle?”

“Don't know what Steve would do, but I know what I will do now. And that's stop waiting.” Clint got up from his own seat, stretching “I have three kids and little time as you all know. When will Sam be done?”

“I think he only had five minutes left. I still don't know why they keep gym for the last class of the day.” Steve admitted with a sigh “But I do think that if he started heading for the door now, we'd find him there. Save him the trip to my office and then call Rhodey to tell the guys to get ready.”

“Sounds like a plan to me! Let's get started, this place is huge as it is, we'll probably meet him halfway.” Tony was the first one to copy his movement before they were all soon out of the office, no less in silence though at least for long “Speaking of which, you thought about that offer yet? It's no small thing being wanted by such a big university, can't compare to a high school. No matter how big or state-of-the-art it may be. Besides, hey, you could finally feel at home with all those 90-year-olds there.”

“While that would sound lovely, seeing as none of them would tease me about my lack of knowledge on technology like someone I know-” he gave his friend a side look, despite the smile on his lips “But still, no, I think there is something about SHIELD that I won't be able to find there. I have the Phds, I should be fine, but this school was helped build by your father, by my aunt for something great and that means a lot more. So for now, I think I'll stay.”

“Your choice. Can't say I blame you either.” Tony shrugged, hands in his pockets “I know we'd all miss you if you had to move to somewhere else, me included. Oh just thinking about it- Lots of manful tears.”

Steve's lips parted, ready to reply, only for his words to get caught in his lips. And it wasn't just the big lump in his throat that prevented him from breathing, it wasn't just his lungs burning with lack of oxygen or his dry mouth that made him feel sick. Sick with worry, he had gotten used over time. Sick with realization that this was it, having been caught unprepared at that, he didn't know if he could accept. If his body could ever comprehend it to begin with, because right now all it felt like was as if every organ was failing one by one and every cell in his body had frozen up; as he took the image of you at the other end of the hallway.

“(Y/n)?” he breathed out in horror, like he never had done before in his life. Possibly in his dreams, worst nightmares actually – hard as it would be to believe it when it came to you being in them. It wasn't you, nor because of you, but the rest of the situation. It was those exact gasps he heard that were responsible.

“That's (Y/n)?” it sounded as shocked as he had expected.

“You gotta be kidding me. Rogers' got that? I need to know what his secret is now!” another whisper.

“Ah, there he is!” Sam, who only now Steve realized you had been talking to, exclaimed.

For the second time in only a matter of second, Steve felt his body freeze in its place only for this time, only half a second later, to spring into action. When you turned to fully face him and he spotted the bandaged hand, the scratches on your forehead and the small drops of blood on your shirt, all of his worries turned into actual fear but for entirely different reasons. He actually exclaimed this time, eyes wide “(Y/n)!”

“I know, I know.” you sighed, approaching him with an apologetic smile “I didn't call and didn't give you a single warning about this. I'm really so sorry about this. If it was up to me I- I wouldn't be here but-”

“Wha- No, honey, no!” he breathed out hastily cupping your face in both his hands, trying to take in every little detail that was there and that was not ever since he last saw you in the morning “I'm not- I would never- This is blood, (Y/n), what happened?!”

“Oh oh! No, don't worry.” you placed your hands on his “It's- it's nothing major, just a scratch here and there, probably because I wasn't driving. Paul is fine too, though they took him to a hospital just to be sure. Honestly, the car's in a far worse condition than any of us, the accident wasn't that bad in itself but-”

“Accident?” he gasped “You were in a car crash? Sweetheart-” he paused for a moment, doing another check over with his eyes, lips parted as if he was ready to bombard you with questions about your state, advice on your well-being and so many things that he should do but you knew he was holding himself back only because you weren't alone. He could be as over protective as he wanted but truth was there didn't seem to be a real reason the more he looked at you. He took in a shaky breath and nodded his head slowly Are you sure? Maybe you should have gone with him too, get a couple of check ups just in case-”

“Steve, no, I swear I'm fine, darling. Believe me please.” you whispered, emphasizing on the words, as you fixed your fiance with a look that made him let out a small sigh before he nodded his head and kissed your forehead, moving to your cheek and then briefly your lips.

“Are you sure there is not something I can do though?” he dared whisper “Maybe you should have-”

“No. Steve, no.” you shook your head, giving him one final look as if to warn him that you weren't going to take any of it now “Now-” you let a soft breath, smiling up at him “I hope we established that I don't need any pampering, not at the moment at least. See, I wouldn't have come here if I hadn't forgotten my keys, though. My phone is definitely in pieces so I couldn't really let you know and I thought I'd stop by to get your keys before, well-” you stopped, looking over his shoulder before giving him a tight-lipped and certainly very apologetic smile “You know. But- yeah. Seems like my timing's just too shitty today.”

Your words did earn a laugh from your fiance, and he could see it in your eyes just how much you appreciated the sight of him relaxing, not that he had the chance to tell you so before Tony spoke up.

“Uh pretty sure doesn't like that kinda language!” he came closer, nowhere nearly subtly pushing his friend away to extend his hand towards you “I mean, he's all but an old man so it shouldn't be surprising. One would beg to wonder: Is dirty talking involved in it, or not? Tony Stark, by the way, and since you're here I think we'd finally get the question answered after all! So you are the fiance wow! (Y/n) (Y/l/n), what a pleasure to finally meet you! I've been coming up with all sorts of pictures of you in my head but let me tell you reality far exceeds every expectations! No wonder Rogers has been hiding you all along.”

“I-” you couldn't help but laugh a bit out of breath at his words, blinking in surprise at his rambling all in one breath “Well, let me tell you, you certainly live up to the image I had of you in my head, Mr Stark, and definitely all of Steve's descriptions.” you laughed, taking his hand “It's such a pleasure to finally meet you!”

“Please, Tony. Weird-” he glanced at Steve “I don't think I shared my performance in bed with Rogers.”

“Tony” Steve warned although you couldn't hold back your own laughter once more.

“What?” he asked in return “I'm just letting the woman know what's out there on the market in case she decides she needs to dump the capsicle and be a little more adventurous in life.” he added winking at you.

“Thank you, Tony, but-” you chuckled, noticed the way your fiance rolled his eyes, though there was too much playfulness in both of their demeanor to make it real or serious “I think after all these years, despite his quirks and habits that can drive me crazy, there's something called love. So I'll stick with him.”

“Oh he sure is a handful. But who am I to judge, some like them old.” he shrugged casually.

“But you're older than me!” Steve couldn't help but protest, almost sounding like a little child about to throw a tantrum. While it would have sounded funny, you couldn't help but notice the small crease in his brows that was always there when the topic came up. He was uncomfortable and even more self-consious about it, despite how much you'd always tried to reassure him that the age gap was never an issue for you.

“Alright, are you two quiet done or are we gonna have to witness you get at measuring it too?” Natasha spoke up there was a hint of exasperation in her voice that you couldn't help but understand if not completely relate to “Hi, name's Natasha and it's good to finally meet the woman that's got this guy with all those pounds of muscle wrapped around her little finger. It's quiet a show to watch, let me tell you. One way or another.” she grinned and you chuckled “Oh and here we have Bruce and Clint. Sam you've met.”

“Kind of a tough feat but I'm confident I'm doing well.” you smiled, nodding your head “It's great to meet you too Natasha, Bruce and Clint. You guys- I've heard so many stories with you, you have no idea how happy I am to finally be able to talk to you in person and get to know you. Though I hoped it was under different circumstances, I apologize for this.”

“Oh no, you don't have to apologize in the least bit. So long as you are alright, well, we're just glad to finally meet you too.” Bruce said with a gentle smile “We've been looking forward to knowing the woman that makes Steve so happy, even if it took some time. Which we can't understand because you're lovely.”

“Yeah, I uh- I know and I feel bad about that because-” you glanced at Steve who had put an arm around your waist, his breathing labor if not somewhat withheld, and you almost noticed his body had stiffened up as if he prepared himself for the worst “Well, I'm partially responsible. Work is taking up so much of my time and the few free hours I have, I try to spend with Steve and plan ahead of time. I've been told you've wanted us to both come to your parties-” you looked at Tony “And while the thought of beating Steve's ass at pool and sharing every detail, pardon, embarrassing detail of our first dates with you guys had been very tempting, I sadly had not been able to make it yet. Much as I'd love to get to know... the family.”

“Trust me, once you really get to know this family, you wish you hadn't. But you're just too sweet and innocent yet, so I won't ruin it for you.” Natasha chuckled “For now Steve's lucky. On every aspect.”

“I mean, hey, at least it is a better explanation than ex-serial-killer on the loose that Tony suggested. Not busy with prison either, I assume?” Clint shrugged as Tony exclaimed “Hey, it was a solid explanation.”

All you did was laugh “I'm not a serial killer, Tony, unless we consider my attempt at lasagna a murder. Come to think of it, the kitchen always ends up looking like a crime scene so who knows? But I haven't been in prison, either, not that I remember of at least. Right now being head of the museum is enough.”

“Smart, funny, sweet and incredibly beautiful- Rogers what is she even doing with you?” Tony teased.

His words earned a laugh from you and everyone else, managing to ease the tension. Or at least the tension that had set on Steve, because everybody else had been incredibly relaxed from the beginning including you, as much as it surprised him. Just some. He was not all that surprised to realize that they already adored you from the first five minutes of knowing you. He had had no doubt about it from the beginning. He was sure that charming them with a smile andmesmerizing them with your sweetness would be a piece of cake for you like everybody else you met, they loved you. Besides, he couldn't lie, that whatever the situation (car crash or not – even though he hated to think like that) were always radiant and as beautiful as ever and he'd always thank his luck for gracing him with a woman as stunning as you inside and outside. But taking pride in your wits and beauty that easily made his family adore you he couldn't really allow himself to fully accept it and relax. The small voice in the back of his head, even now as it saw that things were going so well – only one joke about the age difference, if any at all so far – he felt worry and fear. For what?

“And here I thought that the real kids would have left by now. Am I going to have to ask you all to enroll at some point or what? I can't seem to shake you guys off no matter wha-”

The voice was familiar somehow but your brain was slow at processing it, given everything that had and was happening, but the second your eyes fell on the man, well, there was no mistaking the face or the memories the came with it. Realization dawned on the man as well, obvious on his face as he trailed off.

“Mr Fury!” you breathed out with a smile and a laugh of disbelief at how little he had changed.

That.

“Well, I will be damned.” he grinned, as much as he ever would at least “Miss (Y/l/n), if this isn't a surprise!” you happily reached for his hand and shook it with a firm grip, a trait which he always appreciated in you “Came back to see if the building's still standing? As you can tell, much as our students have tried and would wish, both the walls and I are well standing. Again much to everyone's dismay. The arts class is right where you left it if you want to go check it, by the way.”

“Oh Mr Fury don't be like that. You're the best headmaster this place could get and, let's be honest, the only one who could handle the kind of kids in here without going insane.” you shrugged and he hummed in agreement nodding his head “Besides, you always had faith in everyone, whether you admitted it or not.”

He scoffed a laugh “Glad that at least in some cases I wasn't proven wrong.”

“Wait- you-” Tony blinked, raising a hand as to stop the conversation “I'm getting it all mixed up here. Fury, you know (Y/n)?”

You wouldn't even have realised if the sharp intake was real or not, much less coming from your fiance, if you weren't standing so close to him. You had naturally found your way back to his side and his hand had fallen on your waist, and when you felt a squeeze so fast and quiet intense, you understood that it was all him. And more than that, you saw the way he had stiffened up next to you, how he was holding his breath and his chest was puffed out. His eyes weren't nearly as wide but you could see an unspoken kind of fear in them that made your heart ache. This wasn't how you wanted it to go by any means, not on your first meeting of his family. Everything was going so well, you had gotten so exited and carried away that you had almost not realized it what it could mean to have Fury in front of you. Not until now. You didn't want it to be ruined for Steve but what could you do anymore? Stand and watch just like him, feeling more helpless was the only possible thing aside from hoping.

“Do I know her? I don't know Stark, there are some people I'd rather see once a month or even year because one can only take so much and forgetting them wouldn't sound so bad- If you know what I mean.” he gave him a look and for a moment you held your own breath. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe- “But, forgetting the brightest student to walk these halls ain't possible. And speaking of that, what brings you back after all this time (Y/n)?”

“Student?” it sounded like Natasha but you couldn't be sure over the sound of your own heart drumming.

“I uhm-” you cleared your throat, deciding to look as confident as possible for the sake of your fiance who as standing frozen in his place if not terrified “Yes, yes I was-” a soft laugh which you could proudly say sounded genuine “I was a student here almost six or seven years ago. Small world.” the came out as a whisper “And uh I was here because I had to see Mr Rog- Steve. I needed an uhm favor, of sorts. I'm sorry to disappoint but I won't be staying long, it's already been a long day for me and I need to head home.”

“Of coure.” he said but sadly for you that wasn't that, and feeling the tension in the room not only from Fury who studied the way you were so close but from the rest of Steve's friends who stood frozen in their place, faces blank but tha probably the worst kind of expression they could have on “But uh I didn't know you two kept in touch. What- what is Mr Rogers exactly to you?”

There is no mistaking the look the headmaster is giving you, the way his eyes narrow a bit, just like there is no mistaking the bit of knowing look in his eyes. Steve however, still very tense, chokes out in a lightly small and hoarse voice “Fiance.” he cleared his throat “(Y/n)'s my fiance.”

Fury's eyebrows rose but not with as much surprise as you'd have expected, not even that of having his current thought being verified. Maybe they weren't any current thought at all? Maybe the suspicion had not sparked this very moment to begin with.

“Well, then, what else can I say but congratulations!” he gave you a smile which you tried to return. Key word: tried. Steve was even more stiff next to you, unable to even try himself.

Before you get the chance to speak, it's another female voice this time that you also recognise “Fury, I have some stats I need you to see now befo- Oh, (Y/n)!” Maria smiled at you and you couldn't help but return it, until it almost froze in your lips because of her next words “What a pleasant surprise to see you here, you haven't changed at all! Not were it counts at least. Look at you, from high school girl to badass business woman. That's a glow up.”

She had always been friendly with you, the playfulness was to be expected, and her words were always what could make your day but at this very moment it felt like the exact opposite. You forced a smile nonetheless “Thank you Maria, it's great to see you too!”

“Right.” Fury cleared his throat, smirk evident on his lips “Well, as you can tell, work never ends for this old man. It's great to see you again (Y/n) and of course, congratulations once more.”

You were sure you murmured a soft “Thank you” but maybe it was only your lips moving as a reflex. You saw Maria give him a questioning look but what caught even more the attention was the grin he could barely hide as he turned to her and started speaking in a hushed tone.

Not that much registered anyway. The silence that followed, even for a couple seconds, felt deafening. Your heart seemed to be stuck in your throat as you simply waiting for something, anything.

“Honey.” it was Steve that spoke up, drawing your attention as he placed the keys in your palm “You're tired and you've been through enough for today. Go home and I promise I'll be there shortly afterwards. I'll say a quick hello and then I'll be with you, no more than an hour.”

“Steve” you protested in a low voice, looking up to meet his eyes. You weren't protesting at him cutting his day out with his friends short, although you definitely wanted to fight him about that because you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You were protesting at him taking it all upon himself, doing the explanation and what not. You felt like you had to be there to, that you needed to stand by his side and defend your relationship, even in front of his friends.

“No” he shook his head, clearly reading the meaning behind your words “Go. I'll be fine.” he whispered in your ear before kissing your temple “Go”

You tried to fight him a bit longer, silently at least, but his pursed lips and firm eyes told you that he's not having it. With a heavy sigh you nodded your head and he let go of your face. You put on a smile and turned to his friends “It was... great meeting you guys. I hope I'll see you again soon in... better circumstances. That we could get to talk more.”

“Anytime.” Natasha says with a warm smile that's almost friendly and accepting and you wish to believe it.

Sharing goodbyes with the rest of the group, you reluctantly walk away despite the urge to linger close if only to at least hear what they're going to say. Not... that you'd have to.

“Steve, you absolute little sneaky shit!” Tony exclaims, not even trying to keep quiet as he laughs “Alright, alright, now you seriously have to teach me how you do that! Your secret- Tell us your secret, there has to be one! My, I never thought I'd say this to freaking Cap of all people but I need your tips now!”

His words were followed by more laughter, easy and calm as Natasha spoke up again “Really, Steve, that's the reason whyyou didn't want us to meet her?” she raised an eyebrow and Steve tried to stutter out words but nothing coherent was said, not as he stared dumbfounded at his friends “You realize that there is nothing you should feel ashamed about, right? She was your student, alright, but as long as you both leg- Wait, you both were, right?”

Steve's eyes widened “No, Nat- It's not-” he blinked before shaking his head “When any of it happened she was very much legally an adult. Nothing could have ever happened if she was not. I would never-”

“Lies!” Tony gave him a look “That's absolute bullshit, Rogers. Nobody believes it. Come on, teacher- student relationship is already out there, start admitting the rest of it!”

“That's the truth, Tony.”Steve rolled his eyes “I'm not hiding anything else besides-”

“Not the one I chose to believe, no. Doesn't have as much spice as I'd like and we've already established that you have dirty secrets, I'm set on discovering it all if I have to. In fact-” he got his phone out “How much do you think a lie detector takes to build up from scratch? I could always order but-”

“Maybe... you were right to want to hide it after all.”

“Not all of us could have a mature reaction when some of us are not even close to... mental adolescence.”

[backtobackbakubabe]

I am the Alpha Now Part 3

Bakugo X Reader 

Words : 2733

Reader is from America and somewhat of a delinquent with an alpha quirk that allows her to turn into a wolf as well as bond with dogs. She is sent to UA to straighten out her attitude. She ends up in a power struggle with none other than our favorite hot head. Words in Italics are words said telepathically

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

Bakugo trailed behind you as you entered the classroom with Mercy hanging out  by the door looking nervous. “Are you waiting for permission or what? Get your ass in here.”

Mercy jumped ahead to catch up with you, tail wagging with excitement.

Bakugo just shook his head at how goofy Mercy was for how powerful he was.

He could hear his dumbass classmates practically squealing over you and he figured you might need help. Not that he necessarily wanted to help you, in fact he thought it’d be pretty funny to watch you squirm. But he had a job to do and that job was to help the new kid.

He was surprised when All Might had pulled him aside after class one day. He gave him a long winded lecture about how he needed to learn how to work with others. Seeing as your quirk gave you a pack mentality he and the other teachers thought maybe it would rub off on him. Make him understand team work or whatever.

So here he is stepping in to help you as his fellow classmates swarmed you. “OI! BACK THE HELL UP A SECOND!”

Everyone froze for a moment before resuming their questions. You looked to him with wide eyes, “My Japanese isn’t great to begin with, but they’re talking a mile a minute. I have no idea what anyone is saying. Someone keeps touching my hair and pinching my ass but when I look no one's there. Please help.”

He groaned, “I can help you with the translations but they’re just going to keep bugging you.”

You threw your hands up, “So what am I supposed to do?”

He walked over and thumped you between the eyes like you had done to him earlier, “Do that weird glowy eye thing you do. Tell mercy to crowd control, I don’t know. Just get the point across that they need to respect your personal space...” He looked back to the crowd of people who were now directing their questions to him to translate. He spoke Japanese and even he found it hard to figure out what was being asked. “SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN!”

When he had every ones attention he gestured to you, “This is Y/n. She’s new. She’s from America. She Doesn't speak Japanese that well so be fucking patient. She’s got some weird alpha wolf quirk and we all know what happens when you corner a wild animal so back the fuck up and let her breathe.”

He looked over and your eyes were a bright electric blue and Mercy was standing in front of you in a defensive position. He wasn’t growling but that didn’t mean he didn’t mean business. “Easy Mercy. We’re not looking for a fight or anything but Bakugo is right. They need to know we’re not here to play.”

Bakugo gave you a nod and your eyes slowly went back to normal. He then pointed to Mercy, “This is Mercy, he’s her beta and he..”

Some guy with yellow hair rushed to pet him, “Ohhh who’s a good boy? Is it you? Are you a good boy?”

Mercy’s eyes looked murderous but he knew wasn't supposed to hurt your new friends so he just let the weird boy talk to him as if he were a baby.

You opened your mouth to tell him off but Bakugo was already dragging him by the ear to his desk, “Kaminari you idiot! Mercy isn’t some ‘good boy’ he’s her fucking beta, he is smart, probably smarter than you and he will tear you to pieces if you talk down to him again!” He looked to your other classmates who now looked a little scared, “You all got that?”

A few people nodded some just stared at him. They all knew he had a temper but they had never seen him actually defend someone else before. Hell must have frozen over because Bakugo Katsuki looked like he gave a shit.

Bakugo didn’t even look back to you as he made his way to his desk and took a seat. There was an empty desk in front of him, and you assumed that was meant for you.

You snapped and Mercy fell at your heals as you took your seat. “Can I look around a little bit?”

You rubbed his head, “I don’t know, maybe wait until class is over. I don’t want anyone to freak out.”

He wined and plopped down rather dramatically in the isle next to you.

“What’s his problem? I thought he wanted to come.”

You tuned to face Bakugo who was already getting his notes out, and they looked very well organized. Was he a secret nerd? “He did want to come. He just wants to take a look around. Learn the room. He likes to do this every time we go someplace new. I just don’t want anyone to freak out.” You shrugged and turned back around just as a man… in a sleeping bag… popped up out of nowhere.

“Good morning class. I see you have already met our new student from the United States, y/n. I know you all have a lot of questions but there is plenty of time for that after class. Please be patient with her as she learns our language and routines. In most cases you will see her with Bakugo. Please consider him her translator, tutor, and guide while she is here.” He turned to look at you, but you were already spaced out. This language barrier was going to be a bitch. “Y/n is there anything special you would like to say before we begin our day?”

You heard your name. You knew he was asking a question. But you had no idea what was going on. The teacher softened and spoke again but this time in English, “Forgive me, it seems even as I was giving a speech about you being from America I still forgot to speak English. Was there anything you would like to say?”

You shrugged, “Uh… sure. It’s nice to be here and I can’t wait to meet all of you. Thanks in advance for putting up with my bullshit.”

You looked at a smirking Bakugo who started shouting out a translation. But what you didn’t know was what he translated that to was, “She says she can’t wait to meet you all in training and her dog Mercy needs to sniff out the room. Let him do his job and don’t bother him. You can meet him later too…” He patted Mercy’s head switching back to English, “Hey go do your thing they wont bother you now.”

Mercy jumped up and looked at you with his tongue lolling out the side, “Oh can I? Sparky said I can. Can I please?”

You narrowed your eyes at Bakugo, “As much as I appreciate it, please don’t make a habit of telling my beta what to do. I’m the alpha here, not you.”

Bakugo just leaned back in his chair, “Yeah we’ll just see about that.”

He made your fucking blood boil but you knew you would get your chance to slap the smug look off of his face later in the gym.

You nodded at Mercy who took off and started sniffing everything. He did it for most of class just pacing around the isles. Trying to learn faces and smells.

You spent the rest of the class trying to keep up, but it was just too much for you. You only knew every other fifth word or so. In the end you resorted to writing down words that were said frequently so you could look them up later.

Finally, after what felt like years you were dismissed to get lunch before training.

You stood up and stretched. You heard light snoring and that’s when you noticed Mercy had fallen asleep in front of your desk. “Typical.”

You leaned over to wake him up but before you made contact someone was behind you. One hand on your skirt the other around your waist. You’d panic but that familiar scent invaded your personal space just like it had done earlier. Bakugo pulled you to him while trying to pull your skirt back into place. He leaned in and whispered into your ear, “What did I tell you about bending over. Are you stupid or were you trying to give our classmates a show?” A shiver ran down your spine and your witty response died in your throat. “Next time I see your ass like that I am going to slap it.”

Your eyes began to glow and you could feel your wolf instincts kicking in. You are an alpha and NO ONE challenges you. You were going to tear him a new asshole, but before you could even get a word out he let you go and started walking towards the door, “Hurry up brat I’m hungry.”

You were fuming now. How could he say something like that and then act so nonchalant as if nothing ever happened. You used your foot to nudge Mercy awake. “Come on man. You just had to be asleep when Bakugo threatened to slap my ass huh?”

Mercy stood and shook himself to wake himself up, “Sparky spanked you?”

You caught up and were now walking behind Bakugo and some red headed guy who seemed to be friends with him. Odd you didn’t think he was the friendly type. “NO! He didn’t spank me, but he threatened to if he saw my ass again!”

“Well why did he see your ass? Did you moon him or something?”

You rolled your eyes, “No! I bent over to try and wake you up and I guess my skirt rode up a little.”

“Well he did tell you earlier not to bend over… You used to spank me when I did things you told me not to…”

“Who’s side are you on?!”

“Oh wow you’re right. She does talk to her dog. That’s so cool!”

You saw Bakugo had stopped with his red headed friend who was currently beaming a mega watt smile at you, “Hey sorry! I don’t mean to be rude, My name is Kirishima! My English isn’t the best but I’m going to work on it.”

You returned his smile, “Nice to meet you Kirishima. I’m y/n and this is Mercy.”

“So cool! So were you two having a fight or something? You sounded pretty mad earlier.”

You narrowed your eyes at Bakugo, “Not at all, just discussing proper punishments for pack members who don’t fall in line.”

Kirishima rubbed his neck, “Oh wow sounds intense.”

You returned your gaze to Kirishima and gave him a sweet smile, “Only for those who don’t behave.”

Kirishima chuckled, “Oh.. sounds kinky!”

That earned him a slap to the back of the head. “Tch. She doesn’t want to hear your perverted bullshit alright now get us a table!”

Kirishima rubbed the sport Bakugo had slapped as he scurried off to the cafeteria.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “She really doesn’t want to hear your perverted bullshit either.”

Completely ignoring you he leaned down and started rubbing Mercy’s ears. “It sounds like your alpha needs an attitude adjustment. Is she always this high strung?”

“Oh he’s funny. Tell him I said he’s funny. But also tell him to be nice or I will eat his homework… no one will ever believe him”

You snorted, “I’m not telling him that.”

Bakugo cocked his head at you, “Tell me what?” He stood up and was now facing you with his arms crossed. You hadn’t noticed how tall he was. He probably had half a foot on you.

You shouldered past him to enter the cafeteria, “It doesn’t matter what he said. I’d watch your back though, someone might mistake you for a chew toy.”

You saw Kirishima had found a table and headed in his direction but before you could take a seat Bakugo came up behind you with his jacket in his hands. “Please for the love of god tie this around your waist before you sit down. I’m getting you a new fucking skirt today if it kills me.” You blushed as you yanked the jacket roughly from his grasp. “Tch be a pouty bitch all you want just take it. I’m going to go get us some food.”

You quickly tied the jacket around your waist and felt monumentally better as you took your seat. The others were busy talking amongst themselves. Everyone once in a while they would make an attempt to include you in the conversation but they were busy stuffing their faces for the most part.

A guy with red and white hair came and took a seat across from you, “Hello, my name is Todoroki. I have pretty high marks in English so if you ever need help please feel free to ask.”

He seemed genuinely nice, and kind of cute if you were being honest. You smiled and reached your hand out to introduce yourself, but you had to yank it back to keep it from being crushed by a tray of food. “She doesn’t need your fucking help, that’s my job icy hot.”

You glared at him, “SHE can speak for herself thank you.”

He groaned as he yanked two notebooks and a tape recorder out of his backpack and slammed them on the table. You picked up the one you had seen him writing in earlier and was actually impressed in what you found. “All your notes today… they’re in English.”

He rolled his eyes, “How perceptive of you.”

You bumped his shoulder with yours, “You did this for me?”

He pulled a pair of headphones and some pencils out, “Don’t look too much into it. It’s literally my job.” He plugged the headphones into the recorder and handed you a pencil. “Now I recorded the lecture so we can listen back. I can retake my notes in Japanese, and you can follow along with the notes in English and try and learn something.”

You took one of the earbuds and stuffed it in your ear as he hit play. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until your stomach growled and as if he read your mind Bakugo pushed a plate full of chicken and rice towards you. “Eat up. We have training after this, and I’d hate to beat you because you didn’t have enough food on your stomach.”

You put down your pencil and picked up your fork, “So do you want me to take notes or eat? Because I can’t exactly do both at the same time.”

Bakugo was finishing his bowl of ramen before pushing it away, “I mean I already took the damn notes for you. Just eat quick and catch up.”

“But what about me! I’m hungry too! Did he not get me anything?”

“Shit.. I guess I didn’t feed you this morning huh?”

Without glancing up from his notes Bakugo put his tray on the floor so Mercy could have what was left of his chicken and rice. His mood swings were going to drive you crazy.

When it was finally time to go to training you were practically buzzing with excitement. Mercy was too, “I get to help this time remember! He said I could train later! Do I get to fight sparky?”

You stopped mid-stretch to poke Bakugo who was warming up next to you, “Hey, Mercy wants to know if he gets to fight you yet?”

His nose scrunched up as he looked over to Mercy, “I know you’re not like an average dog, but I still feel bad trying to blow you up..”

You laughed, “Well at least we know you’re not hiding any signs of being a serial killer.”

“Tch, I just don’t want to hurt him! You, I have no problem with. You’re a pain in my ass. But Mercy’s cool!”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh shut up. You won’t hurt him. I’d be surprised if you could even hit him. He may look lazy but he’s really fast and his fur is super thick. The longer we are bonded the stronger he gets.” Your eyes started to glow as you started your shift, “What are you scared of a little two on one?”

His palms started to crackle, “Bring it brat. Time for round two.”

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Tags : @tspice283

[jamesbi-canonbarnes]

I'm having trouble connecting the emotional through line between episodes 2 and 3. In the therapy session Sam tells Bucky they can just finish the mission and then they're done with each other, after that it seems like things have cooled a bit and Bucky even starts to say, "I feel awful" before they get interrupted by Walker. Then in 3 things seems relatively fine between and they even (especially Sam) show some concern for the other?? And Bucky totally still not trying to understand Sam's POV

Ok ok mood. I’m not an expert on writing, but I do have lots of thoughts on this, so lemme talk this through w you (long post ahead). Some of these thoughts are going to be theorizing super hard about what’s going to happen in future eps so for sure take that with a grain of salt.

IMO for a show where the most interesting thing is literally just the emotional states of these two men and how they relate to each other through those emotions, their emotional arcs are not nearly pointed enough for my taste...I suspect that’s partly because we’re pulled back and forth between the more lighthearted banter and the more heartfelt expressions of their internal lives. But also bc, I think, the whole thing is that these two CANT communicate because if they DO, their emotional states will reach RESOLUTION too quickly.

And IMO, I actually think it’s the therapy scene alone that is throwing the balance off leading up to 3. I didn’t feel like threatening not to ever see each other again was earned, or at least it wasn’t clear to me where it’s coming from writing-wise. (Not that I wouldn’t support Sam cutting himself off from the toxicity of someone else’s unfair expectations, if this were real life and not a function of a written story). It just feels too far a swing of the pendulum compared to directly before and after. Sam just saved Bucky, and yes he never got to finish railing Bucky over Isaiah, but *because* that argument didn’t hit its crux, I don’t think it’s enough for most viewers to explain the kind of statement Sam makes in the therapy scene. Yes Sam does keep shutting Bucky down in a lot of ways, but we also know that before Bucky confronted him in episode 2, he was doing the opposite and trying to reach out to Bucky. So it feels a bit confusing to me. I don’t know what Sam wants, besides to be left alone, and that itself feels neither genuine nor like good enough motivation on a character level for this story. So. In lieu of any other story reason, I guess I think Sam’s reaction in the therapy scene is a way to artificially raise the emotional stakes so that the eventual resolution is more satisfying. That’s the only thing I can think, although if that’s the case, they started building back up extremely quickly.

Bc you’re absolutely correct, immediately after that therapy scene, Bucky is upset but clearly wants to communicate that to Sam, contrary to any agreement to squash it and move on. And though there’s no time for dialogue then, they approach walker/Hoskins essentially a united (though frustrated) front. And then after that and all through ep 3, though they are functionally on opposite sides of the entire zemo argument in every way, Sam basically rolls over repeatedly throughout and actually ends up expressing more care for Bucky than we’ve previously seen and also opens up to him more... and IMO bucky breaking zemo out of prison without asking and with clear premeditation was a major violation of trust, for which Sam was not afforded the opportunity to express proportional ire. (For me Bucky’s speech there asking Sam to do it for him did not hit as reasonable motivation for sam). You would think after the level of ire sam expressed to bucky’s genuine (though self centered) vulnerability in the therapy session, the level of ire to bucky’s lies and even “betrayal” (as I see it) would be notable. It should be at least above essentially saying “you’re dead to me once your usefulness runs out” which I think is the dark but fair implication of “let’s just finish this and never speak again” or whatever he said in the therapy scene. Instead he says a reluctant version of “ok, I’ll do exactly what I just explicitly said I didn’t want to do, just because you asked.”

The thing is, clearly neither of them actually hate each other. They have both repeatedly shown genuine care for the other. So why is the animosity even happening?

The emotional throughlines should help us figure that out, and vice versa. So what I’m thinking is, a throughline has to have a beginning and an end, and figuring out those can help you figure out what the points in the middle should be. Here the beginning of Bucky’s emotional throughline w Sam is clearly from a starting point of straight up misplacing his grief and aggression onto Sam, bc he’s projecting Sam as the distant figurehead of stability to replace Steve. His not understanding Sam on a personal level is the primary obstacle to his realizing and resolving that entire emotional throughline, thus the end point of the throughline necessarily requires passing through Bucky understanding Sam’s POV and empathizing with Sam. In my prediction, that empathy leads to self actualization through purposefully accessing his own feelings (rather than letting his blocked emotions break through and then ignoring both the cause and consequences of them). Then he can start down a path of true restitution leading to his own healing through healing his relationships.

IMO bucky has never hated Sam. He has always fully just been jealous of him. Jealous of how happy he is, how few problems he pretends to have, and his relationship with Steve, if you want to go there.

So because Bucky does not hate Sam, there isn’t really anywhere to go after hitting the mark of seeing Sam’s POV... besides, essentially, restitution as resolution. Bc it’s through that realization>restitution that Bucky’s going to have to face the actual issue, of who he actually hates. Only then can he heal. He doesn’t have to forgive Sam. He has to forgive himself. So that he can restore himself, which he can only do after restoring Sam.

(And, if they’re really going to go there, he has to forgive Steve. I’m unsure if that’s going to be directly drawn for us or not)

I think that bucky’s throughline will resolve itself relatively quickly after Sam gets what he needs from Bucky, hence why he can’t have it yet. So in the meantime, Bucky comes off as frankly a bad friend who is self absorbed/entitled and unwilling to unlearn white supremacy bc it requires uncomfortable empathy with a Black man.

Sam’s emotional throughline as filtered through how he relates to Bucky is a little harder for me to grasp, I’ll be honest. Obviously the end point the emotional throughline has to underline is accepting the mantle of captain America (accepting himself?) So maybe that is woven among the throughline of his journey to accepting Bucky as an ally??, but I’m not sure what the starting point even is to be honest.

I do think that what is clearer (at least to me, and maybe this is only applicable to me?) about Sam is that we as the informed audience already know an important part of why he gave up the shield. It’s very much about race. Sam has not expressed that to Bucky, but we know it. Bucky has no idea that this is about race—or more accurately, that’s it’s about trauma regarding race. He hasn’t connected Sam’s ultimate motivation to Sam’s statements and experience re: race. Sam has certainly expressed anger and hurt, but he hasn’t connected them to race and then to the symbol of captain America for Bucky, whereas they’re already connected for many viewers. I’m not going to give Bucky a pass for not connecting them because that type of ignorance is not neutral. But he clearly does not know, and he DOES keep asking. He has asked multiple times in words why Sam gave up the shield. But instead of giving a direct answer, Sam continues to shut him down, each time literally by refusing to speak and walking away. Now I tend to agree with Sam that it’s none of his business. Sam shouldn’t have to bare his trauma to explain something to Bucky just because Bucky wants him to. Especially when Bucky has not indicated that he’s willing or able to empathize with the reason. And on top of that, it being something sam knows Bucky cannot fully understand? I mean, I’m on Sam’s side here.

But the thing is, the show is setting it up so that Sam has to open up. He has to let Torres touch his machinery (metaphorically) he has to let Bucky get close to him (metaphorically). Sam has to let others in and he has to do it for himself, for his own healing. But I’m not yet sure why that’s so important for his journey, besides the obvious being this is a story about how to heal from trauma from every side.

So right now I think we’re just seeing Sam continue to drop hints both about what his trauma is and about the fact that he cares for Bucky, bc those are the important things for his resolution. This is continuing despite the therapy scene and not because of it, which I find odd, from a writing perspective. And we’re seeing Bucky miss a lot of those hints, bc he’s too busy being defensive to take them as genuine expressions of what they are, of exactly what he’s asking of Sam. That *does* make sense to me from a writing perspective. Because once he understands Sam’s POV, the throughline has to move forward toward resolution.

Idk. I just am not sure that I’m really getting Sam’s arc yet. That’s not to say that it’s not emotionally hitting, necessarily, bc I am firmly finding myself behind Sam.

And allllll of that is just to say: I agree that the emotional throughline feels a bit wobbly here, and I don’t have a way to reconcile it. I will take further suggestions if anyone has them.

[keepingupwithlinmanuel]

Lin-Manuel Miranda: I’ve been writing in lockdown

In his head, Lin-Manuel Miranda has an alternative timeline of what he would be doing right now. The 40-year-old would have recently finished filming his directorial debut, for one, the Netflix adaption of the Broadway musical Tick, Tick... Boom!, which survived just ten days of shooting before everything shut down. Right now, he says, he should be in the edit.

Instead, he’s on a Zoom call, talking to GQ from his home about a filmed version of Hamilton, which wasn’t due out for another year, and he’s apologising for the fact that it doesn’t say “Lin-Manuel Miranda” on his screen, but “Lin-Sebastian’s dad”, as it “defaults to the time I did a parent-teacher conference”.

...

So, Hamilton is coming to Disney+, which is incredibly exciting – and a year earlier than planned. Talk me through how that decision was made.

We realised pretty early, even when the show was off Broadway, this is going to be a tough ticket. And we sort of realised there’s value in capturing what it feels like in the theatre with this company. And the three days we shot this film was the week before the principals started to leave. We all left the following Friday. So it’s the best rehearsed cast maybe in the history of movies – we were performing and what we’d spent a year doing. When lockdown happened we had around 75 per cent of it – enough of an original, a rough cut, to be able to sell it to Disney and partner with Disney. We didn’t have a final edit. We didn't have a sound mix, which in a musical is pretty important. But once it became clear there was not going to be any theatre for the foreseeable future, we all kind of pivoted and said, “Oh, this is actually an opportunity to remind people of the power of theatre when there is none.” And so we got to editing and then it just became like racing. We turned in the final cut, like, two weeks ago.

How do you feel generally about the future for Broadway? Are you optimistic that it’s going to bounce back?

I’m optimistic. I’m not optimistic about any kind of timeline. Like I don’t know what theatre looks like on the other side of this, particularly in the absence of a vaccine. One of the books I've been reading during this lockdown is Will In The World, the biography of Shakespeare by Stephen Greenblatt. And I read it because I wanted to know what did Shakespeare do when the plague shut down the houses? Because there was that sort of meme going around, you know, “He wrote King Lear, what the fuck are you doing?” It’s not entirely accurate. He did write some sonnets. Those are pretty good. But it's, you know, that uncertainty. When we make our calling where people gather, it’s a real one. And what I'm encouraged by is honestly the fact that given that there are no shows right now, it’s actually a time to tackle some of the more systemic issues with our theatre we need to talk about. How to get an audience for Hamilton that is as diverse as the cast on stage. We're in talks, just for ourselves in this moment – at a time where we're talking about systemic racism in the United States – on how to make backstage look more like on-stage; how to address some of the inequities when it comes to black folks and people of colour in the theatre industry. It’s still so predominantly white backstage and at the top, so I think we're seeing people getting their houses in order because there's time to do it and no one has the excuse that we're very busy programming our season. So I can only speak for the Hamilton company, but we are hoping that when we come back, we come back into a world where we're addressing some of these issues and we're having the tough conversations.

...

Yourself and Hamilton are natural kind of bedfellows with the Black Lives Matter movement. But you did take a bit of criticism for not maybe speaking out early enough? Was that just an oversight?

Yeah, absolutely. And I called it a moral failure. And I stand by that, you know. I had been tweeting about Black Lives Matter since 2015. I remember us rehearsing “My Shot” for the first time when we heard the there was an acquittal for the police officers who murdered Eric Garner and how heavy that felt in the room and how we cried in the room. But for some reason, the moral blind spot is not bringing Hamilton and its social channels as a brand in alliance with that earlier. And so, you know, I think we're making up for lost time in that regard. And you're right, there are natural bedfellows. We are a company made up of black and brown actors who reckon with the origins of our country every night on stage.

...

Something that always stays in my head is when you hosted SNL just before the 2016 presidential election and you sang at a picture of Trump in the corridor “Never gonna be president”, which was so funny at the time but is hard to watch now. How do you look back on that?

The night before we'd heard the Access Hollywood tapes. I don't think we've ever heard such vulgarity from a presidential candidate full stop. The fact that that was not career ending, I don't know what that says. But whatever it says ain't good. But, you know, it is unprecedented that a moment like that happened. And still millions of people said, “This is our guy.”

How are you feeling about the upcoming election?

I am feeling… I don't know. I'm feeling uncertain, as everyone else is. I think people are certainly energised. I think there is a lot of… I think a lot of what you're seeing in the streets and in the world is the country really loudly saying, “This guy does not speak for us” and “The integrity of our voting system is more important than ever.” And that's a big concern of mine. But I have no doubts that the majority of this country does not believe that this president speaks for them. It's just a matter of that being reflected in the voting booth or in the mail and voting situation that we will probably find ourselves in. We've seen there's no bottom. There's no bottom to the guy's actions. I feel positive that more people are speaking out. I feel positive seeing that the overwhelming majority of these protests have been powerful and peaceful and, like, with masks and people handing out sanitisers… I've seen the peaceful protests myself in my own neighbourhood. And none of that changes unless we actually dismantle the systems that set them up. You know, it has to be followed – the lip service has to be followed up by meaningful change. I'm encouraged when I see that Minneapolis is looking to reallocate those police funds to the community. I'm encouraged when I see action. It’s very easy to tweet, but much harder to dismantle these inequities.

...

I guess everyone would want to know if you’re working on another stage show. Any ideas in the locker for that?

Yeah, but I can't tell you. I mean, it's weird, because I kind of messed it up because Hamilton had such a public birth, right? Like, I didn't know the Obamas would call and say, “Do you have anything about America and can you perform it at this podium?” But I did. And so that that was the most public writing I've ever done, because I kind of showed everyone the ultrasound in 2009 and then I didn't finish it until 2015. So I can't write that way again, because the scrutiny on me is so much greater now. And, you know, the best idea to kill an impulse is to talk about it. But, yes, I'm writing some new things that I think would work nicely in the theatre and I have some time to do it.

OK, so without asking you to give the game away, can I ask how far you are through the writing process for it?

I'm writing the first three or four songs, which I'll rewrite once I find out what it's really about. You know, because you start thinking you know what it's about and then if you get lucky in a place, it starts to tell you what it's about. And you go, “Oh, shit, I thought I was writing it for this reason, but I'm really writing it for this reason.” So I'm writing the initial impulse songs right now and it'll tell me how much I did.

[tisfan]

For your prompt request: Pairing- Pepperstuckony (yes, Pepper/Steve/Bucky/Tony). (If you want to add Rhodey to the pairing, that works, too.)

Title: Living in CrisesSummary: Tony and his family have moved to the moon. Too bad Christine doesn’t realize that means she’s not welcomeCreator: @tisfanFor: @marvelpolyshipbingoRating: TeenShip: Pepper/Rhodey/Tony/Steve/BuckyWarning: none

Christine Everhart had that look on her face,like Tony Stark had told her a particularly unpalatable truth and she wasn’tsure if she should believe him (because she didn’t want to) or call him a liar.

Except that shewas fairly certain he was telling the truth. Which annoyed her.

Tony’s innertwelve-year-old did a fist pump of triumph, although outwardly his demeanor wasas unflappable as always. He’d been in front of cameras since he was a child.It was going to take more than an ex-lover with a grudge to get him to crack.

Especially today.

“Well, you see,”Tony said, gesturing, “a hundred and seventeen countries signed the Accords. Wefelt we had no choice in the matter.”

“You had nochoice?”

“The United Statesclaimed the moon by virtue of putting some dusty old boot on the surface andplanting a flag,” Tony said. “And if there’s one thing I’ve discovered aboutAmericans, it’s that they’ll buy or sell… well, anything.”

“Including themoon.”

“Including themoon,” Tony said. “Of which I am now sole proprietor, owner, and mayor. And…well, I decided to make some changes to the outdated laws of Earth. Why shouldI be stingy, right? Why should it be one man and one woman? Right? We said noto  that ten years ago. So, now, on the moon, why should marriage be onlytwo people? It’s senseless. Nuclear family is over. We tried it. It wasisolating, it was detrimental to our mental health, our finances, our planet.Auxiliary family is the way, baby.”

“So, you marriedall your friends?”

“Oh, no,” Tonysaid. “This dome would be a lot bigger if I had to house all my friends. Theseare just my spouses.”

“Big dome,”Christine said, tipping her head to one side. “And you have three husbands?”

“And one wife.Don’t forget Pepper. Never forget Pepper. None of us would be alive if itwasn’t for Pepper. She’s the real hero here.”

“Speaking ofheroes, how does the Accords figure in here?”

“They don’t wantthe Avengers on Earth, getting into politics, saving the day, destroying cities.It’s understandable, really. And my second husband, Steve, you remember Steve,right? Captain America? Well, if he sees a situation headed south, he can’tignore it. It’s really hard to see stupid, petty Earth shit from the moon.”

“Does Miss Potts –do you still call her Miss Potts, or–”

“We are, in fact,all Potts now. Dr. Potts, Captain Potts, Colonel Potts, Sergeant Potts and Mrs.Potts. Sounds nice, don’t you think. And it makes those pots and kettles jokesso much funnier. Pep doesn’t always appreciate my humor, but at least Buckystill loves me.”

“It’s hard tobelieve you married the man who–”

Tony leveled hischin at her. “No. We’re not discussing that, it’s been hashed over, it’shistory. The Winter Soldier no longer exists, thank you for playing who thehell do you think you are, anyway?”

“Right,” Stevesaid, standing up and flicking off the television. “I think we’ve seen enough.”

“I’ll get coffeeon,” Bucky said. “His shuttle’s due in like twenty minutes.”

“You really thinkcoffee’s going to help?” Rhodey demanded, but he was already in the closet,pulling out every fluffy blanket they owned. 

“I’ve gotcheeseburgers–” Pepper said, coming in the door, swinging the take-away bag.Surprising how many businesses they had for the little Dome city. Pepper hadn’tallowed them to call it Pottsville, so they named the city Crisium City, forthe lake it was built over. And, because as Tony said, they were constantlyliving in crises anyway, right? 

“You saw the‘wave?” Bucky asked, kissing her cheek and taking the bag from her.

“Happy told me allabout it on the shuttle home,” Pepper said, stepping out of her shoes. Buckyalways liked it when she went barefoot. A soft kind of vulnerability, only forher husbands.

“Rhodey wasamusing himself by watching it again,” Steve accused, and then laughed asRhodey threw a sofa cushion at him.

“He’s coming,”Pepper said.

Tony opened thedoor to their private dome a moment later. Looked around. Blinked.

“What’s this?”

Bucky patted thespace on the sofa reserved for him. “Welcome home. There’s coffee andcheeseburgers.”

“And a wholemarathon of those science fiction movies you like,” Steve offered.

“She was acomplete bitch, I hope she didn’t upset you,” Pepper said. “That woman alwayshas had more ambition than sense.”

“Have you eatenanything more than coffee since you left?” Rhodey demanded.

“You think I’mupset? About Christine getting in my face about our marriage? Don’t be silly,our marriage is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Tony said.

“She was acting–”

“Sour grapes,”Tony said. “She’s jealous. And who wouldn’t be.”

“To have allthis,” Rhodey said, gesturing to Tony’s… everything.

“To have allthis,” Tony nodded, indicating the whole group. 

[marvel-mega]

Are you death or paradise?

(Ron Weasley x Reader)

A/N: apparently im feeling HORRIBLY angsty tonight so here is this heartbreaking fic with my absolute favorite billie eilish song “No time to die”. For reference (Y/H) =your (Hogwarts) house and (Y/H/T)= your hometown for my fellow united state inhabitants..? Well I hope you enjoy this is my first Harry Potter fit but I am hopelessly in love with Ron Weasley <3 so expect more??

word count: 1.8k 

warnings: sadness but also badass reader and Hermoine being the bad guy sorry... not sorry 

*I don't own this gif credit to the owner!*

I should've known

I'd leave alone

Just goes to show

That the blood you bleed 

Is just the blood you owe

To say you felt defeated was an understatement. 

No defeated isn't the right word you felt foolish, played, dumb, and most of all hurt. 

You knew there was something between Ron and Hermoine but you turned a blind eye. 

Why wouldn't you? You loved Ron more than anything 

You wanted to believe him when he said Hermoine was barely a friend.

"Honestly love we just tolerate each other for Harrys' sake." 

We were a pair

But I saw you there

Too much to bear

You were my life

But life is far away from fair

Yet here you were walking into the Gryffindor common room and there they were 

Kissing.

No, that wasn't enough

how can you describe a kiss that looks like its been waiting for years to be felt, 

a kiss that looked like it was oxygen for both people,

a kiss that was full of passion. 

Harry was behind you waiting to enter when he almost crashed behind you and was about to ask you what happened when you turned quickly and looked at him red-rimmed eyes and motioned with a single finger for him to not make a sound as you left the common room. 

Was I stupid to love you?

Was I reckless to help?

Was it obvious to everybody else

That I'd fallen for a lie?

You were never on my side

Fool me once, fool me twice

Are you death or paradise?

Now you'll never see me cry

Looking back you remember telling yourself that you didn't let him see you cry because he didn't deserve to see you so vulnerable.

But in all honesty, you didn't want him to see you cry so you would never have to mention this incident.

You were willing to turn a blind eye to his infidelity because you loved him so much. 

Who had you let yourself become?

You knew it was going to come up eventually especially if the two of them wanted to carry on with their new relationship who were you to jeopardize that? 

There's just no time to die

I let it burn

You're no longer my concern

Faces from my past return

Another lesson yet to learn

That I'd fallen for a lie

You were never on my side

"How could I have let him fool me ?" You asked aloud to Cho. 

Neither of you spoke very often considering you being in (Y/H) and her being in Ravenclaw. 

But she saw you crying in the corridor 

and girls help girls in need when boys break their hearts.

The two of you were sitting on the stairs leading to the grand hall. 

You couldn't help but think back to a happier time when you had finally gotten the courage to ask Ron to the yule ball. 

But he watched her the whole night, you were blind 

And everyone else saw what you chose to ignore. 

"I knew there was something between them and I still thought I was better, somehow different

I still thought he could love me, not her." 

"Hey, this is not your fault. He is a coward and a complete idiot if he can't see how perfect you are." Cho explained as gently as she could but she couldn't hide her anger for the red-headed git. 

"I appreciate that Cho. I'm starting to think this school is cursed," you laughed lightly. 

You were from the United States specifically (Y/H/T). It was your decision whether to go to Hogwarts or Ilvermorny and foolishly you choose to go to Hogwarts and were currently living with a distant relative of your mothers'. 

"What if I just went to Ilvermorny back home?" 

Cho looked completely aghast. "You mean you'd leave?" 

"I don't see why not it's our last year sure but I was planning on moving back home after graduation anyways. This makes it easier to make connections and find a job back home don't you think?" 

Cho didn't know what to think. Yes, Ron hurt you but enough to make you want to completely leave your professors, your friends, and more importantly him? 

"You would leave without saying goodbye?" Cho said sadly. 

"Nothing is for certain. But I'll send an owl to my parents. They've been trying to convince me to come home for a while maybe they were right." 

Fool me once, fool me twice

Are you death or paradise?

Now you'll never see me cry

There's just no time to die

The days after the incident, 

you referred to it like this because it made it easier to talk about like it was a car crash or an explosion, not a red-headed goofball you carelessly trusted,

you held your head high through the halls. 

'You will not let him see you fall' you told yourself. You were reckless to put your heart on the line like that for him. But what's that saying 'Only fools fall in love' well it couldn't be truer. 

Some days were easier than others you had spoken to the head of your house and made up an elaborate sudden illness that would sometimes make it impossible to go to class. 

So that covered your classes. 

But Ron...

You never spoke to him. 

It was easier this way. 

Made ripping the bandage off easier. 

You went up to the three of them in the courtyard ignoring how Rons' eyes lit up when he saw you coming towards them. 

You turned to Hermoine she looked beyond frightened at your cold and calculated stare. 

"I was hoping I could have my ancient runes textbook back Miss Granger? I let you borrow it last week"

Hermoine was confused not about the incident Harry had given the two of them an earful when you left the common room. 

As far as Hermoine knew you weren't taking ancient runes anymore. 

"Are you going to be taking the course again?" She asked politely hoping this met you'd put the whole thing behind you. As if it wasn't a big deal. 

You bit your tongue to refrain from saying "like it's any of your business Granger".

"I am. At Ilvermorny, next term. So if you could just leave it in the (Y/H) common room the password is 'paradise falls' I'd appreciate it." 

You were feeling very grateful at your ability to remain completely stoic to their gaping mouths at the news that you were transferring. 

You glanced over in Harrys' direction. 

He was one of the few people that made leaving Hogwarts more difficult. 

"Ilvermorny?" He spoke almost as if the word was an insult. 

"The wizarding school in America." You replied. 

Barely above a whisper, you heard Ron stutter, "W-Why?" 

This was the first time you had looked at him since the incident. 

He looked for lack of a better word, horrible. 

You wanted to scream and shout and cry and rip his head off. 

But instead, you gave him a once over from head to toe. 

Silently reprimanding him for even thinking you owed him a reason.

Regardless you spoke calmly "Personal reasons Mr. Weasley." 

You glanced at the three of them, the golden tiro, the one you trusted the most was the most responsible for the pain you were feeling.

Feeling like you were detached from your voice you said, "It was lovely to have met the three of you and I am fortunate to have had the pleasure of attending the same school.

Goodbye" 

You looked Ron in the eyes impassively when speaking the last word. 

No time to die

No time to die

Fool me once, fool me twice

Are you death or paradise?

Now you'll never see me cry

There's just no time to die

You had no time to lose yourself over a boy. 

You were an adult and so was Ronald. 

So why were there tears falling uncontrollably when you left the courtyard? 

Because he dug his claws deep into your heart and soul. That's why. 

Oddly enough you kept thinking about his family.

Rons' mother was such an amazing woman.

Speaking of amazing women Ginny was going to grow up and change the world 

You knew it. 

You never formally met Percy considering his poor decision making.

Bill and Charlie never faltered in making you feel protected and cared for. 

And most of all Fred and George made you laugh until your stomach hurt. 

You smiled at the thought before running into someone. Or someones?

Attempting to wipe your tears quickly you looked up to find Fred and George looking at you confused.

"Y/N?" 

Your heart broke you didn't have it in you to pretend to be strong and made out of marble.

You owed it to yourself to feel what you wanted to feel. 

Nor were you going to hold back and keep Rons' secrets for him, he did not deserve that.

He deserved the whole world to know he broke you. 

"Hey, guys." You managed a weak, half-hearted smile. 

Fred and George looked at each other and simultaneously said "What did he do?"

Jokingly expecting your tears to be for someone else and not their kind little brother.

But when you didn't laugh and let out a downright broken sob they knew it was something extremely serious. 

Without question, the twins embraced you and let you wholly release everything you were holding in. 

Just then Ron came running down the corridor 

"Please Y/N Let me explain it wasn't what it looked-" he spoke breathlessly behind but stopped abruptly when he saw his brothers disappointed expressions. You backed out of the warm encircle. 

You took a deep breath. A shaky breath but a deep one none the less. 

"Thank you for accepting me into your home. Please let your mother know she is the kindest woman in the world." 

Ron spoke behind you "Please my love. Talk to me. Look at me I'm begging" 

You turned with such fury and speed Fred and George thought you were going to take your wand out and curse their brother. 

You stood silent. In front of the boy, you would've given the world to. Maybe even now you still would.

"You do not get to speak to me. You do not get to 'explain yourself'. You do not get to say anything to me. I fell for a lie. It was my mistake believing you. I have nothing for you, Ronald Weasley."

You watched him slowly fall apart.

You wanted to feel something

Pride

Anger 

Something. But you were drained of every emotion you had given everything to Ron. 

You turned to Fred and George and smiled dispiritedly. 

From behind you, you could hear one of the twins say "Let her go, mate. You messed up. You lost her." 

And left. Alone 

Just as you had arrived.