#any reference to not really getting closure even in the form of a final fight hits SOOOO hard w them

[sochilll]

Hello. Today, I offer you a new Kleinsen song for the road.

"I Can't Make You Fall In Love Again" by Glass Animals from their new album. (No force to listen ofc, I just needed to spread the propaganda!!!)

Goodbye.

I gave it a listen/read the lyrics and this is sooooo real. High school (almost) lovers to terrible falling out/drifting apart with no explanation to embittered adults thinking about the past kleinsen you will always be famous <3

[science-lings]

I still want to write about AoC Link and Wild meeting but first all elaborate on why they would parallel Wilds relationship with Flora.

Pre-calamity, Wild is repeatedly referred to as the physical embodiment of Zelda’s failures. He succeeded where she failed and no matter what she does, they’re forced together constantly. 

Who would be the physical embodiment of Wild’s failures? What about a version of himself that survived the rise of the Calamity and is literal proof that Wild didn’t have to die, he didn’t have to lose everything, he didn’t have to fail. In LU canon it’s already been established that he sees this version of himself as someone entirely different and more worthy as a hero. In the end it was Wild who wasn’t strong enough to fight anymore.

While I don’t think that Wild would snap at this version of himself, at least not very easily, there are eight other Links between them so he would just happen to avoid him at every single opportunity.  He would withdraw from the others, why would they need him if he’s obviously being replaced by a superior version. The only one who would possibly know why is Twilight who listened to Wild rant about how he was before. I think Twi would have to explain to AoC everything that’s going on, and why there’s a clone of himself that looks like he grew up in a pack of wolves. 

The thing is that AoC would never think that he was better than Wild. He can tell that Wild does not want to be around him. He doesn’t go out of his way to get to know this roughed up version, even if he really wants to. He knows that Wild doesn’t like him but there really isn’t much he can do about it. 

Also AoC could have the impression that Wild existed before any LU related bs. I mean, he’s met the new champions who he knows come from 100 years in an alternate future and I think there are voice lines that refer to the fact that they know a version of him. It wouldn’t be too outrageous to assume that he would know of the existence of a version of him from a world that couldn’t defeat the Calamity. 

I think that Wild would resent that AoC was never alone. He had so much help constantly. He didn’t grow up knowing he was the hero and training for it, he still had friends and family that was alive and remembered and his Zelda never hated him. Everything that went wrong in Wild’s timeline, went right with AoC. Practically. And, as far as Wild knows, the only real difference was that AoC was just... better. He rose to be Zelda’s personal knight organically and it seemed like everything just worked out for him.

I think that the best way to resolve this is for Wild to somehow prove to himself that he is as much of a hero as the rest of them. Whether that be in the form of saving AoC despite their obvious difficulties in communicating, or him just being badass on his own and causing AoC to finally break his silence so Wild can have some kind of closure. 

I’d want this to be different but still similar to the “blades of the yiga’ cutscene, where Zelda realizes that despite everything that she’s done to keep Link away, he still does his best to help her, because she knows that she’s been cruel to him. But with Wild and AoC, It’s less about resolving preconceived opinions and deciding to be better, it’s about resolving Wilds internal conflict and finally being able to accept that he is just as much of a hero as this version of himself whose entire being has been inflated in is head by other people who once knew him, who he was expected to become without really knowing. 

now I want to write the fic so anything that I missed here will be there lmao, bully me if you want me to work on it. 

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Five

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 5 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: mentions of male masturbation and boners (lol); strong language; references to suicide, murder, and drug smuggling; abusive parental relationship; mentions of child death in a second flashback; dry humping (smut); 18+ only please!

Word Count: 16,500+

A/N: damn that chapter warning list was a trip to write down lmao

~

Westview, 2023, 1:32 pm

     An uncomfortable silence spread throughout the parked vehicle, daring either of you to take the first step. No one commented on the glares boring into your soul as you drove through the town or how heavily the three of you got patted down by the authorities right outside the state line. You figured it was completely justified - still a little insulting to a bunch of Avengers who literally saved the world three weeks ago. 

With a loud gulp, Bucky was the first to kick open his door and get out of the car. You glanced at Steve from the driver’s seat, biting your lip with a slight quiver as you went over the speech you practiced earlier today. Simple enough, and not too damning. 

Steve’s leg bounced rapidly a few more times before he too kicked open his door, leaving you in silence. You pulled the car keys from the ignition and took in a deep breath. Your legs were numb, the anxiety washing over you in uneven cycles. It was now or never. 

“Wanda, it’s us…”

Her grief seemed to emit from every crack in the sidewalk, every weak beg escaping the townspeople’s throats, every sound from the inanimate objects her powers had continued to turn from gray to red… to green… back to gray. She was crouched on the property, weeds brushing against her black pants and leaving their mark, mascara smudged with each new wet streak. 

Bucky unzipped his jacket, eyes wandering over the deserted plot of land as Wanda tried to control her sobs. She had already caused enough damage, both physical and psychological, the possibility of more government involvement looming over your heads. He carefully walked toward her and wrapped his jacket over her shoulders, all be damned as he held her and began to tear up himself.

“Wanda, you’re okay. You’re safe. We’ll get through this,” Steve sighed, still keeping a respectable distance from her in case she were to run. But you knew her better - she was all out of fight. One fight after another and yet she still lost her love. 

“I did something really bad,” she sobbed, eyes locked on the spot where Vision had just disappeared. Again.

“No, you didn’t know what you were doing,” Steve declared, shocked by the unexpected scoff from Bucky. 

“Save it, Steve. She may not have known in the beginning but she does now. She still did it.”

No one dared correct Bucky or argue with that logic because if anyone knew about causing harm with absolutely no intention, it was obviously him. Taking responsibility - that was the best course of action. 

Once you heard of a radioactive disturbance in a small town just outside the state, the team almost retired completely. So soon after defeating Thanos, so soon after Tony’s death, so soon after Natasha’s death - the team left it up to the proper authorities this time around. 

But the second you watched the broadcast of Wanda’s fantasies, the sitcom her powers were conjuring, her giving birth to her children… all you could do was wait until she opened the barrier. 

“I still did it,” Wanda said, her upper body beginning to rock back and forth as her fingertips brightened with red tendrils of magical grief. 

You shut your eyes and willed yourself not to cry. You had done so much crying these past few years and you were oh, so tired. You couldn’t possibly take another beating. 

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Bucky spoke, gently turning Wanda’s face and placing both his hands on her cheeks, mindful of the metal appendage he had forgotten to cover with his glove. “You already did it. It can’t be undone. But you can come with us and grieve properly.”

Wanda reached up and placed her hands over his, tears spilling from her eyes faster now. 

“Let us help you grieve.”

This wasn’t an unexpected goodbye. Wanda knew that. She had just voluntarily given up her husband and children - anyone would crumble from that sort of devastation. But now she had been given a proper goodbye, a somewhat proper closure, and the chance to accept it. “Okay.”

You and Steve remained frozen in place even after Bucky helped Wanda stand. Almost as quickly as you thought it, your feet had a mind of their own. You stood next to Steve, taking in the weed infested, rectangular plot of land - the remnants of Wanda’s fantasy still fresh and creating a tiny, refreshing tingle in the middle of your chest. You looked over at Steve and smiled sadly when you saw him inspecting the area as well. 

“They would have had a beautiful life together.”

Steve’s breath hitched as you finished your declaration, looking over at you and nodding slightly. 

“If I had the chance, I would have wanted a nice house with some decent air conditioning. Some weird, front yard garden where I could plant random flowers. A dog that dug them up and acted like it didn’t do it.”

You giggled, thumbnail between your incisors to try and disguise the wider grin forming. Steve kept speaking. 

“Maybe a kid or two. Never actually checked if I could even have kids after the serum.”

You dropped your hand from your face, your attention completely on him now. 

Steve sighed and kicked a rock over to the other side of the property. “I would have wanted a giant, king-sized bed. With ‘his’ and ‘hers’ towels. And every once in a while we would accidentally use the other one’s toothbrush, a secret we would take to the grave.”

Steve wasn’t even looking over at you as he said this. It was like a one-sided confession, rhetorical, not needing an immediate response or expression in return. And you couldn’t believe he was just saying this in front of you - you of all people - the same person who rolled their eyes whenever Steve struggled to comprehend a modern topic or argued with him when he was in one of his moods. He had been distant the last few weeks after returning the stones, only ever noticing you when other people were around to carry a conversation. 

The tingles in your chest were starting to disappear as the plot of land gave its last few magical rumbles. 

“Steve?”

Steve bowed his head, hands in his pockets and breath steady. “Yes, they would have been very happy together.”

You stared at the back of his head as he slowly walked back to the car.  

Present Day, 2025, 8:10 am

     The amount of times you reminded yourself to wake up early as you were drifting off to sleep last night was perhaps more than the number of sheep you had ever counted in your life. A quick reminder here and there as your mind got clogged with pointless information, the number eight behind your eyelids all throughout the night. 

And you did it. In the early hours of the morning, knowing Steve would wake naturally in about twenty minutes, you tip-toed out of bed to use the bathroom. Acting completely normal in case he did in fact hear you before your grand plan - an easy escape route if he decided to repeat his horrible morning ritual on you. But he was such an old man, getting older, losing that serum’s boost. This Steve, Steve who refused to call any movie made after 1945 ‘old’ because he literally didn’t get the chance to see them premiere - yeah, this Steve, was passed out like he had been hit by a truck. 

Bladder empty and teeth brushed, you quietly opened the bathroom door and peeked through. He still lay there on his back, wrapped tightly in his blanket, breathing steadily, and face completely unprotected. 

Could you die? Probably. Would this payback be absolutely satisfying? Hell yeah. 

You grabbed the biggest of your pillows and fisted the corner tightly, twisting it a couple times for a better grip. You signed the cross quickly before lifting the pillow above your head and bringing it down to Steve’s face. 

Steve’s eyes snapped open and he immediately sat up, “WHAT?”

His eyes flew around the room rapidly until they landed on you, angry and challenging.

“Payback!” you yelled, lifting the pillow high again for a second hit. But he reacted quicker, grabbing a pillow himself and swinging it toward you. It slammed you in the torso and practically sent you flying. You landed at the edge of your bed, mouth open in shock and racks of laughter bubbling deep within your chest. You stood quickly and hit him repeatedly, trying your best to also block his counterattack. 

He reached for your hip and pulled you in his bed, rolling the two of you over so he was straddling your hips. He brought the pillow down several more times before accepting your plea of surrender. 

You threw the pillow back to your bed and pouted, “Not a fair fight!”

Steve scoffed, “You caught me off guard! You had all the advantages!”

You shuffled beneath him and froze, hips stuck in a lifted position as you were too embarrassed to move them back down. “Jesus, Steve! How do you even sleep on your stomach with that thing?”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows as he inspected your face and body, looking down at the two of you before he noticed the way he was pressing into your inner thigh. He scrambled off you, a blush spreading from his cheeks and all the way down his chest. He cupped himself and turned away, quickly shuffling for his suitcase and pulling whatever clothes his flustered hands grabbed. He was also repeatedly apologizing. 

“Steve, it’s okay. It just… startled me, is all.”

Steve cleared his throat a couple times before pacing around the room in search of his toiletries. 

You just sat back on your elbows, watching him scurry like a chicken with its head cut off. It was rather amusing. 

“I’m gonna - gonna, take a shower. Uh, I’m sorry again.”

You smirked at the super soldier, “Steve, I’m not mad. It isn’t like I’m new to that kind of thing.”

Steve blushed harder, “But I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

You shrugged your shoulders and dipped lower into his sheets, grabbing and lifting them higher. You snuggled deeper, “Still.”

Steve could feel the speed at which the world rotated and he shut the bathroom door behind him. He leaned against it, breathing deeply until he had all his inhibitions back. 

He didn’t know what was more embarrassing - reacting the way he did or you seeing him react the way he did. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t seen each other in awkward situations, some borderline lewd. There were plenty of missions that involved heavy flirting with the targets, undercover work in depraved settings, missions where nasty magic was involved and concocted a multitude of inappropriate visions. Hell, everyone had already seen each other naked. It was completely normal, a trustworthy environment, and sometimes necessary. 

As much as he wanted to give into the feeling and award himself some proper alone time, he refused to act upon it. He would regret it later once the stress pushed down harder than usual, but it just wasn’t appropriate in his right mind to masturbate with you in the other room. 

Why did he have to be such a good and honorable man?

He busied himself with washing his hair and scrubbing away any evidence of sleep from his face. Steve liked sleeping on his stomach, face smooshed in the pillows and arms extended to his sides. It allowed for more comfortable movement, more ways to stretch his hips, just overall comfort for his massive shoulders. Less pressure on the lungs, too. And unlike the enthusiastic yet almost mean accusation that he couldn’t possibly enjoy that position because of his… well, his dick, Steve would choose that position over sleeping on his back any day. But that morning, his body had decided to betray him in more ways than one. One, he was open to attack because he was on his back. And two, whatever dream he was having caused his morning wood to seem larger this morning.

He had washed up quickly, more time spent out of the shower where he fixed his hair and combed his beard. He thought about shaving it for the rehearsal dinner or wedding, but it gave him a more rugged look - like he was all tough and no funny business. As ridiculous as it sounded, the beard allowed him to lean into the criminal act easier, build a fake personality that already had your father eating out of his hand. 

Opening the bathroom door and having to face the music, Steve was almost certain you would continue to tease him. But you were already munching on the breakfast you had ordered, shoveling hash browns in your mouth as you swiped the mouse through pages and pages of intel. You didn’t even look up as he crossed the room to grab a pair of pants he had forgotten to pick up during his quick escape. That settled his nerves almost instantly and he was dressed and settled next to you soon after.

You worked in silent cooperation for a long while, handing each other files and passing phone calls like you had during every other mission before. Except now it was more comfortable, pleasant, and kind - the soft sounds from the television in the corner, the humming of the desktop, the soft hums of recognition whenever you two showed each other something. You didn’t even bother with what happened in the morning, if it really was anything at all, because you honestly found it normal. You were more focused on the conversation you had last night. 

Steve had offered to kill your father if you seriously couldn’t. Just thinking about his offer caused your stomach to turn. Because yes, you wanted him dead. You wanted to snap his neck in ten different places and feed him to scavengers. You wanted to steal his business from under him and tear it apart, bit by bit, and keep him alive long enough to see you do it. You wanted to see the look in his eyes when you revealed that you double-crossed him. And as the day inched closer, the overwhelming feeling of shame pushed down on your shoulders and swallowed your mind. Once your father was dead, you and Steve would never find true peace. His men would always follow you, probably take you down at the local coffee shop you and Peter frequented. 

The thought of dying in front of Peter caused a lump to form in your throat. No, you wouldn’t do that to your friends. You couldn’t do this to Steve. 

But you had to. Because even though your life will never be yours after this mission, you had to save the countless others your father was sure to touch and ruin. 

But was your life ever truly yours?

Steve’s voice pulled you from your clouded mind. 

“Huh?” 

“I asked if you wanted the last piece of fruit.” 

You looked at Steve then at the small piece of watermelon in the bowl, then back at Steve. He had a pen in between his teeth, one eyebrow cocked, and slightly puffy eyes due to the beer heavy sleep he had last night. You looked away as quickly as you could and stared back at the fruit, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. 

Ridiculous, you thought. Just looking at Steve had flustered you, squeezing your stomach in pleasurable pulses you hadn’t felt since high school. “No, no. You can have it,” you said, hoping your voice wouldn’t crack. 

Ridiculous. 

Steve watched you with a funny smile but he took your word and scooped up the last piece for himself. 

No, you thought again, this man will not give me freaking butterflies. 

It wasn’t like it was odd. Steve had you flustered countless times before, but it was never quite as tingly as it was now. You suddenly wanted to facetime Wanda and rant about these weird feelings; you wanted to curl in on yourself and squeal; you wanted to -

    “He’s what?”

You sat on your knees and leaned over the back of the couch, chin resting on your folded arms as you watched Steve pace around the common room. He was tugging at his dress shirt repeatedly, desperately trying to attach cufflinks without additional help. Sam sat right beside you, in the same position, snickering each time Steve cursed under his breath. 

“He’s nervous,” Bucky smirked, arm holding out Steve’s tie for the past five minutes. Steve had paced beside him various times already, completely oblivious. 

Steve groaned and readjusted his collar, snapping his head toward the three of you. “I’m not nervous.”

“You’re sweating buckets, man,” Sam pointed out, one of his hands discreetly opening up his camera and switching to video. 

“What if she doesn’t like me?” 

Bucky threw his head back and cackled, choosing to grab Steve and steady him to finally put that damn tie around his neck. “Same old, Steve. Can’t accept that a dame would ever possibly like you back.”

“Hey, Steve don’t worry about it,” you started, shooting Steve a sympathetic look. Steve glanced back at you, expression swiftly changing due to your kind tone. “... when I was in high school,-”

Steve released a loud grunt, rolling his eyes and stepping away from Bucky’s hands. 

Sam rolled over and clutched his stomach as he laughed, pulling you into him. The two of you shook from your laughs together. 

“Guys,” Bucky warned, reaching for Steve in a ‘grabby’ motion. “Give him a break.”

Steve reluctantly stood beside Bucky again, head tilted upward as he tried wrapping the tie back around his neck. 

None of you heard the entrance of Thor and his brother, too busy with bullying, laughter, or moderating. 

“Did we miss all the fun?”

You shot up from the ground, kicking Sam away as you rushed across the floor and stumbled over the rug. “Thor!”

You rushed into his arms and he gripped you tightly, swinging you around and loud laughter matching yours. 

“Now, why wasn’t I greeted in a similar manner?” Loki questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You pulled your face from Thor’s shoulder, “Oh, you want this too?”

You jumped back onto the floor and were about to jump into Loki’s arms, but he held his own out, stopping you. “It’s too late. It’s not the same.”

“Piss baby,” you quipped, rushing behind Thor for protection when Loki’s mouth dropped in surprise. 

“Can everyone stop what they’re doing real quick and tell Steve his date is going to go well tonight?”

You rolled your eyes at Bucky’s favor, but he just raised his eyebrows, challenging you to disobey the order. 

“The Captain has a date? Are they okay?”

Loki and you shared a comical gasp. 

Steve gaped, “Now, what in the world does that mean, Thor?”

Thor raised his hands in defense, “I’m just asking if she truly knows what she’s getting herself into! Don’t try and tell me she has no idea who you are.”

Steve was back to groaning nonstop. Bucky threw his hands up in the air, “I ask one thing of you guys. One thing.”

You stomped over to Steve and ripped the half-tied tie from his neck and smoothed down his collar. You patted down his shoulders and the front of his shirt, and gripped his shoulders to straighten his back. 

“Now,” you smiled up at him. The breath caught in your throat for a second, the blue of his eyes shining under the ceiling lights and the pink of his cheeks spreading slowly. You let out a tiny sigh, heart fluttering faintly from the small grin he was giving you. He looked so innocent, a renaissance subject created from light oils, signs of true aging showing in his forehead. “Whatever date you got planned, she’s gonna love it.”

Steve relished in the feeling of your palms pressed against his chest for a few moments before he nodded at your declaration. He stepped back and smoothed down his shirt. “Wish me luck?”

A chorus of ‘good luck’s sounded as Steve found his keys and shared a goodnight hug with Sam and Bucky. They both jokingly reminded him to use protection. 

You watched Steve leave, a newfound bounce in his step as he walked away. Your words had been so simple, so cliche, and yet he had dropped any visible nerves as he walked out the door. You weren’t the best motivational speaker, that was for sure, but the proof of at least an ounce of motivation was there. Maybe your words held a hidden meaning. Maybe.

You thought about him picking up this random woman, wine and dining her, kissing her cheek as he said his goodbyes at the end of the night. It was somewhat adorable to think about, but also weird.

Before you could dive more into the strange feeling, Thor’s voice sounded. 

“Should we order pizza or chinese?”

It’s like that snapped you from your trance, because next thing you knew you were back to your playful self, sprinting across the room and into Loki’s arms. 

     You cherished the slight, pleasant churn of your stomach as you watched him happily munch on the fruit. 

Okay, it was normal to have a tiny crush on your mission partner. God knows how many times you wanted to jump Thor’s bones whenever you were undercover together. A crush was normal, completely natural and expected. 

Except you had never gotten so much sane joy from a simple question of whether you wanted the last piece of fruit. 

You blinked a few times and shook off any trace of overthinking devils, grabbing at random files to occupy your mind for a while. After about fifteen more minutes of comfortable silence, you spoke.

“So, we think Ramirez is gonna get straight up murdered?”

Steve snorted, filing through a pile of papers Torres had delivered this morning. “I wouldn’t put it like that, but sure.”

“But it’s just a theory at this point. We can’t just go in guns blazing without enough proof.”

“And if there is proof? Do we protect him? The original mission was to arrest all four men.”

You groaned, “I don’t know. He’s never done me wrong.”

“Personal feelings aside, Y/N.”

“Ugh, fine. But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

Steve squinted at you with a playful smile. “You’d rather just arrest the bad ones, huh?”

“Obviously what Ramirez is doing is illegal and it’s horrific to think of what might be happening behind the scenes on his side, but either he’s serious or he’s been putting on this good guy act for his whole life.”

“Leaning towards the first option?”

Shrugging, you leaned toward your computer screen and scrolled through the massive list of emails. “It’s what my gut tells me, but ehh.”

There was one random email from Maribel, but random only meant coded. Reading it over a couple times, humming to yourself in concentration, you finally cracked the code she was trying to send. 

“Maribel says Ramirez acquired some land in Mexico… lots of it.”

Steve looked up from the files, “Any significance?”

“It’s probably for growing the products.”

Steve quickly typed key words that would alert him of any new transactions in the past few months.  “Who’s on the title?”

“Just him. And his oldest daughter. My father must know, right?”

Steve leaned back in his chair, releasing a heavy sigh as he thought about what this could mean. “Ramirez acquiring more land means more of Ramirez’s product. A three-way partnership would be split unevenly if he utilizes the land.”

“Make sure Bucky alerts us of any business my father might have with realtors authorized to work in that area.”

It functioned like this for another hour, the two of you sharing bits of information every ten minutes or so. 

“Torres sent us an update on White.”

You rubbed at your strained eyes, “What does he say?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, “That he’s been in the country for much longer than his passport says.”

You stood from your seat and rushed to look at the same screen Steve was reading from. “He traveling under a fake name?”

“Customs says he returned to Germany,” Steve stated, highlighting a paragraph on the screen for you to easily read. “Four weeks ago.”

It was your turn to snort out a laugh, “Oh, he’s so setting up an alibi.”

Steve nodded in agreement, “Looks like it.”

You slapped his shoulder lightly, voice raising an octave. “Look at us! Piecing together the puzzle!”

“We still got a few more pieces to attach before you go getting all cocky.”

You chuckled and decided to take a break. You speed walked over to your bed and plopped down, the mountain of pillows already relieving your tense muscles. “Hey, has my sister’s plane landed yet?”

Steve glanced at you quickly before pulling up Bucky’s morning emails. “Uh, landed about an hour ago.”

“She at the estate?”

He shrugged, “Torres hasn’t sent an update. Just her profile, hold up.”

You waved him off, a nonverbal way of telling him you seriously couldn’t care less. “I haven’t spoken to her since I joined you guys. You don’t gotta give me her origin story.”

“That long?” Steve questioned. 

You placed a pillow beneath your head, body horizontal and facing Steve. “We were never that close. I’ve got tons of half-siblings. Most of them were adults when I was born, anyway.”

With just a few words exchanged, Steve realized he had just stepped through your metaphorical door of reminiscing. So he stood to lay in his own bed, the simple action of giving you attention enough to keep you talking, he hoped. “Were you alone a lot? Growing up, I mean.”

You watched as Steve also placed a pillow beneath his head, “There were always kids around. Kids of the maids, cousins, neighbors.”

“A full house, sounds like.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, a small smile forming as you thought about old friends. “I remember this one time, we all ran into Ramirez when we were trying to get to one of the playrooms. But he grabbed me quickly and told me to not go in there.”

“Was it a threat?”

You grinned at his protective tone, “No, it was a warning. There were some really bad men in the other room. It was me and a few other girls. He told us to run back to my room and lock the door until he came to get us.”

Steve couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation as to why Ramirez joined the drug game. Sure, the function and presence of cartels had changed drastically over the last forty years, but it didn’t explain why he remained involved. In the eighties, the drug game was highly televised and spoken about, but the cartel violence was not as strong. Nowadays, and not even you could give a proper explanation, the violence was astronomical and basically advertised as something to expect when visiting certain countries. This was the mob game now, freaking Al Capone or the goddamn Godfather, absolutely meant to frighten whoever dare join or leave. For Ramirez to still be one of the big players even with that many internal changes, to be a good person in the middle of such hell, didn’t make any sense. 

“He protected you.”

You clutched the pillow closer to your chest, the memory a good one even if it was weird. “Oh, yeah. Those guys he was warning us about were no angels.”

Steve gave an awkward smile, “I feel like I know more about your childhood than you know mine.”

“I’m all ears if you wanna tell me about little, asthmatic Steve Rogers.”

He raised his index finger at you, “Hey, I was more than just my asthma.”

“Oh, excuse me. I totally forgot about your scoliosis.” 

The pillow under his head was now flying across the small distance to your face. You shrieked and sent it back. 

“Stop bullying!” Steve laughed.

You shielded your face in case he decided to continue the pillow war. “What? I’ve got my health problems, too! I just don’t have the serum to help me out.”

But he didn’t throw it again. He repositioned himself on his back and placed both hands beneath his head, gracing the ceiling with a grin. “I remember this one time, Bucky and I were around eleven-years old, and I had this really bad asthma attack. Bucky just freaked out. I was choking and he was just holding me, screaming for help -”

You blinked, “This is really depressing, what are you-”

“-and! Bucky threw himself into a full-blown panic attack. So we were both choking on air, but I was starting to laugh at him freaking out, which only made him choke harder. We ended up throwing up.”

You were silent at the end of his short story, mouth open in a wide smile. “I don’t know what else to say other than that was one of the greatest stories I’ve ever heard.”

Steve rolled over, a literal twinkle in his eye. “See? Don’t interrupt me before I get to the good parts.”

This simple moment catapulted the realization that Steve hasn’t spoken to you this much in two years, to the front of your mind. In these past four days, you had spoken like you had never stopped, like it was never awkward, like you two seriously didn’t need another person in the room to simply converse about what you wanted for breakfast. Yet here you were, more words exchanged in the past four days than you ever thought possible. 

After the fallout, you didn’t say one full sentence to him for seven months. Seven months. He hadn’t attempted a conversation with you either, but you actively avoided him like he was infected. Hell, he even moved out of the compound and into his own apartment to get away from you for most of the day. After your forced reconciliation, the awkward apologies, you still didn’t force any open conversation. But it was easier, lighter, and most conversations involved mission information. 

Talking this much now was so easy, so simple, like you didn’t need to force the comfort - there was already full comfort, a sense of community with this man. 

He was so different from when he insulted you while you were packing, annoyed by the fact that you pried too much. And now you were prying into his childhood and him yours without a lick of annoyance on either side. 

“We both had eventful childhoods, didn’t we?”

“What, with both of us in the middle of a war?” Steve asked, a genuine look on his face.

“Guess our wars never really left us, huh?”

There was a knock at the door. You weren’t expecting Torres again today. Steve muttered ‘room service, maybe’ under his breath as you went to open it. You were startled to find Scott standing outside, two massive suitcases in his hand. 

“Oh my god, I forgot you were arriving today!”

Scott scoffed, “Am I not as important as your other friends?”

You laughed and helped him inside, “Stop! You’re one of my favorite bugs!”

“Ha ha. Very funny. I’ll leave right now if you two decide to pile on me instead of each other.” Scott placed one of the suitcases near the door but the other at the edge of your bed. 

“We’ll be nice,” Steve promised, standing to greet Scott with a hug. 

“You better. Catch me up, please?” 

The suitcase contained your outfits for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. Whoever was in charge of costumes definitely went all out, hoping their work would make the big fight the most fashionable. Steve was given a perfectly tailored suit, navy blue and velvet. It was lined with vibranium, inside pockets covered with it. That would certainly be handy if you were forced to walk through metal detectors - vibranium couldn’t be detected. His suit for the rehearsal dinner was a lot simpler, the custom black and white aesthetic, but still protected with vibranium. 

Your clothes were certainly not styled to match Steve’s, giving you a sense of individuality. It was perfect really - it would allow you to leave Steve’s side, if necessary, when the mission called for you to split up. Your rehearsal dinner outfit was two parts: a black, velvet long-sleeved shirt, slight turtleneck, and gold cuffs. It was joined by a long gold skirt, high-waisted, the front shorter than the back and sides more curled than ruffled. You would have to wear tights underneath, but it was beautiful. Vibranium was also stitched in for added protection. Your dress for the actual wedding, however, was a total knockout. Red, spaghetti strap, tight on top but loose once it reached your hips, a long slit on the left side. They were even kind enough to give you a pair of heels to match. 

Yeah, Steve was Captain America and his appearance will shock the guests, but your attire will definitely be the second topic in gossip. 

Scott was filing through the same papers you and Steve had reviewed earlier, a bowl of potato chips at his side. And it was peaceful - you and Steve even had the chance to nap. 

“So, you’re gonna see Jackeline at the rehearsal dinner?”

You wiped the remnants of your nap from your face and groaned as you stretched, “She’ll probably be busy tomorrow when we go for breakfast, so yeah.”

Scott shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes practically attached to the computer screen. “And… she’s the one getting married?”

His tone started to worry Steve, “Yes, Scott. You good?”

Scott piled a handful of potato chips in his mouth, finger clicking the mouse every few seconds. His eyes were now wide, blinks forgotten. “Jackeline Vega. Jackeline.”

Steve ignored him now, “Hey, why isn’t your last name Vega?”

As much as you wanted to share about how and why you changed your last name, Scott’s demeanor interested you more. “Changed it when I became an American citizen - Scott, what’s up?”

He let out a tiny squeak, swallowing his snack quickly. “And she’s your father’s favorite?”

You rolled your eyes, “Mmm.”

Scott released a huge huff of air, shoulders falling as he raised his voice and turned the monitor to face you. “Think he knows anything about this?”

The photograph was blurry because it was enhanced, but you could still make out the face of a sister you hadn’t seen in years. Older, still with teenage features obviously, and tossed on what looked like a church alter-

Steve's eyes widened, “Is she…?”

Scott finished his sentence for him, “Fucking a priest?”

You covered your mouth in shock, “Oh my god, she’s fucking a priest!”

Bent on the literal church altar, skirt bunched around her hips, head thrown back in ecstasy and face in full view. And the damned priest, in between her legs and under the eyes of god. 

“That’s why I asked!”

Steve clutched at his chest, head thrown back as he howled, “I think you were wrong about your sister.”

Now your eyes were glued to the screen, “Oh, I was fuck all from correct!”

Scott cleared his throat, “Is the priest… her fiance?”

Steve came down from his laugh attack, “I highly doubt that, Scott.”

“This is actually really damning evidence.”

You grinned at Scott, “For what? Painting her out to look like the most sinful whore? I might just congratulate her.”

Steve stared at you, judging almost. “For fucking a priest?”

“For proving me wrong. She’s not so innocent after all,” you responded, cheeks strained from how wide you were smiling. 

“Clearly. This is… actually badass,” Scott admitted, turning the monitor back to him.

You teased, singing your next words. “Don’t let the Lord and Savior hear that.”

Steve glared, “Y/N.”

You leaned away from him, “What? Anyway, that’s gotta be one the worst sins to commit, right?”

Steve’s expression contorted from annoyance to disbelief. “We’ve literally killed people.”

“Pfft, but we’re not fucking priests. Right?”

Scott answered, nodding quicker than he needed to. “Right.”

“You’re literally asking that?”

You pressed your lips into a fine line and tilted your head at Steve. “Steve?”

He glared at you for a long moment before slowly shaking his head. “I’m not fucking any priests.”

Your response was immediate, “Alright! I gotta hand it to her, though. Who took the photo?”

Scott went back to fishing through the emails. “Some sleazy magazine that never got around to actually printing these out.”

“Someone paid them off. Or killed them.”

“I wonder who,” you replied sarcastically. 

Steve continued, “You honestly think he would support her doing that?”

You shrugged and scurried back over to your unmade bed. “Not my problem.”

Scott interjected, “Okay, okay. How’s tomorrow gonna work?”

Steve answered first, “Well, we’re driving out around eight.”

You hummed in agreement, reaching over to unplug your phone from the charger. “Scott, you’ll just ride on one of our backs as we walk through the estate.”

“I kind of want to ride Y/N’s back this time.”

You snorted, “Now that doesn’t sound sexual at all.”

He hid his face in his hands, “You know, I heard it once I said it.”

“Course you did.”

Steve jumped back into the conversation, Scott’s embarrassment seeming to grow under the weird tension. “Then you’ll hop off and plant the bugs wherever you feel like they’re needed.”

“Easy peasy!” you cheered. 

“Bucky and Sam gonna meet us Friday night?”

Steve nodded, “That’s what they said.” He looked over at you, scrolling through your phone and already smiling at something you found funny. He cleared his throat to get your attention. “You know they can be out here in under an hour if we seriously need them.”

You glanced over at Steve, his sincerity greatly appreciated. “I know. But all my faith is in Scott here.”

Scott moaned quietly, “Oh… no, let’s not put all the faith in me because I can’t handle that responsibility.”

You propped yourself up onto your elbows, “You saying I can’t trust you?”

“No, no! That’s not what I’m saying at all-!”

Steve rolled his eyes and looked at the man, a sheen of nervous sweat starting to form on his forehead. “Scott.” 

Scott lowered his hands from his chest, “O-oh. She’s messing with me, huh?”

You chuckled and laid back down. “You’re so easy.”

The easygoing atmosphere for the next few hours almost had you believing you were on vacation, away from the bad guys and space aliens for just a moment. Almost like you weren’t in the middle of a drug war, a mob business, the literal daughter of a king. Scott had that effect, his personality such a sweet refresher and such a contrast to every soul in the compound. 

Thor and Peter were also sweethearts and fun was always expected when they were around, but Scott had this different vibe. Maybe it was because he was relatively new, or that he had a child, or that he hadn’t suffered the same five years as everyone else did. Like he wasn’t yet tainted.  

“You guys mind if I run a job inside a job?”

Your head snapped up at Scott’s crazy question, “You stealing something?”

To run a job inside a job was risky. There was no exact plan to keep both missions balanced, to somehow rank the other more important. You prayed it wasn’t something insane. 

Scott chuckled under his breath, already grabbing his jacket and suitcase by the door. “No, I’m not stealing something. Hank needs me to speak to some guy he’s doing negotiations with about a space for a new lab headquarters.”

Steve tilted his head, “In Northern California?”

“Nah, the dude is vacationing out here for the time being. The lab will be in San Francisco again.”

You squinted at him, still cautious. “Where you meeting him?”

“Some nice Italian restaurant an hour out.”

Steve spoke before you did, similar thoughts running through his mind. “You check with Torres? We don’t know who might randomly show up there.”

Scott tried his best to reassure you, “Yeah, he said they’re following every car that leaves the premises and travels more than thirty minutes away. None of Ernesto’s men have been spotted further up north.”

You sighed. You didn’t want another member of your team to venture out in this area, let alone this goddamn state, without your eyes on them. You were protective, the proximity of your outside world with the one you had spent ten years building too suffocating of a reality. 

Still, you told Scott goodbye with a steady voice. “Then enjoy your dinner, Scott.”

His voice picked up again, that childish and upbeat feeling wrapping you around his finger. “You guys wanna come with? I’m sure you’re sick of icky hotel food.”

Steve waved him off, “It’s actually not that bad-”

“Breadsticks. Garlic pasta. More breadsticks.”

You laughed, “That sounds nice, Scott but we can stay here-”

“Three-cheese pastas.”

“Scott, you can try all you want but-”

“Unlimited breadsticks.”

You shared a look at Steve, puckering your lips at the suggestion. 

“.... We’ll sit far away from your table, okay?”

Scott opened the hotel door and started sprinting down the hallway. “I knew I could persuade you with that! C’mon!”

     California at night was a death trap. Potholes on every stretch of asphalt, construction halted for who knows how long, random opossums lingering in the shadows just waiting to get hit by tires. It was prettier during the day - less of a ‘lead me into this forest, yes, kill me’ vibe. 

You chilled in the backseat while Scott drove you guys to the restaurant. You had texted Bucky where you were planning to go, the message activating the group text chain. 

Peter: it’s Wednesday! Who died?

Wanda: she’s literally texting us

Peter: Y/N, you won???

Bucky: fuck do I owe the fucking spider money?

Peter: pay up dude

Y/N: tf Bucky? You bet against me?

      “You sure you two are good?”

The restaurant looked quiet considering it was a Wednesday night, but it was still crowded. There was a short line extending out the door and a… bouncer. You sucked in a breath and smacked Scott in the chest once you were out of the car. 

“Thought you said this was a restaurant?”

Scott rubbed his chest, a look of disbelief spreading across his face. “Restaurant slash bar!”

“We eating with the Italian mob now? I can only handle one mob at a time, Scott.”

You nodded rapidly, pointing at Steve. “I agree with him!”

“Not every place has bad guys!”

You groaned and reluctantly stood at the back of line, pulling Steve’s hat lower on his forehead. It wasn’t like people couldn’t take one long, hard look at him and not know who he was, anyway. 

“Can you guys just… enjoy a night out?”

“While on a mission?”

“While living your long lives. God, Y/N, you getting old already?”

Your mouth dropped, “I’m twenty-six and I’m not complaining about a nice dinner, Scott.” You pointed at the bouncer. “I’m worried about the fact that our ID’s are gonna be checked.”

Scott’s mouth formed an ‘O’. “Yeah, that.”

“Next.”

You shot Steve a worried look but handed the bouncer your driver’s license. He just looked at the date of birth and moved you along. “Next.”

Scott handed him his, doing his best to smile proudly while the bouncer scanned him up and down. “Next.”

“See? Wasn’t so hard,” Scott joked, standing next to you in the far corner of the entrance. 

You rolled your eyes, “Wait.”

The bouncer took one look at Steve’s ID and gasped. Steve looked anywhere but the bouncer’s eyes, his bottom lip suffering the abuse of his incisors. 

“Cap-Captain?”

Steve gave a sheepish grin, lowering his cap further. “Uh, yeah.”

“Enjoying your day?”

You pinched your nose. 

“Would like it a lot more if you could lead us to a table with as much privacy as you can offer.”

You had to hand it to Steve for taking advantage of situations like this. 

The bouncer agreed immediately, speaking with the manager and promising discretion. The manager said it was no problem, that it was the least he could do for you guys after you brought his son back to him after those rough five years. 

The restaurant offered a somewhat real Italian setting, awarding their guests with as much real scenery and architecture it could. You could only compare it to the Venetian in Vegas as you had never actually been to Italy, but the live band and garlic smell was enough to transport you. 

The lights were low, older couples enjoying the food and wine, and there was a small bar near the back of the restaurant. It wasn’t really a place for some shady business, but years of experience let you know that wasn’t always the case. It was second nature to eye women reaching into their purses, only to pull out a pack of gum. Second nature to wince at the sound of a loud laugh cutting through the quiet atmosphere. 

As promised, you were led to a more private area of the restaurant, closer to the bar than to the band. 

“Go run the job, Scott. We’ll just be enjoying our unlimited breadsticks,” you said, letting out a heavy and relaxed sigh as you settled into the private booth. 

“That hat isn't really hiding those broad shoulders, Cap,” Scott laughed, slapping Steve on the back.

Steve slid into the same booth, ignoring the completely empty seat across from you. “Thanks, Scott. I’m aware.”

You tried to hide your blush as you squeezed deeper in your seat. Scott noticed though, side eyeing Steve who was none the wiser. “You know, I told him that he should have used those facial changing things SHIELD used to have.”

Steve grabbed the offered utensils and started unwrapping them from their napkins. 

“What are we if not superheroes who think a baseball cap and glasses hide our identities?” you teased, shooting Scott a quick wink. 

Steve answered almost triumphantly, “Uh, Superman?”

You giggled and grabbed the napkin he had unwrapped for you. “I’d argue Thor is more like Superman, but okay.”

“How am I not more like Superman? What-”

“Uh, guys? I see the dude so I’m gonna go. You two enjoy your meal,” Scott interrupted, running off to a booth located toward the middle of the restaurant. 

You sat for a few awkward moments before you squinted and looked at Steve, who was sitting to your left and way too close. “Are we annoying?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like,” you spoke with your hands, “you and I bicker a lot because we love to annoy each other but you think it gets on other people’s nerves?”

Steve chuckled, rubbing his shoulder with yours. “Do you really care if it does?”

That blush of yours was starting to feel warmer. “No, just wondering if you felt that way.”

He shrugged, “I quite like our relationship.”

“Oh,” you smiled, looking down at your lap.  “I quite liked it more a few years back but you know.” 

He immediately tensed, body leaning away from you as if you were burning him. You shut your eyes and shook your head. “Sorry, that was low.”

He sighed deeply, “No, I deserve it. I’ll always deserve it.”

You took a risk and reached for his hand, squeezing gently. The kind gesture seemed to calm him, and he looked back at you. “I still shouldn’t have said it.”

He accepted that, and handed you the menu. 

The hotel food was grand, it did its job of filling you up and providing the necessary nutrients, but there was just something about the carbs in pasta and bread. It ignited the food critic inside you, because now you were cursing the hotel chef and dreading having to order breakfast in the morning. No, dinner. You were having breakfast with your father tomorrow. 

Scott was busy conducting his own business, bluetooth turned off but still glancing over his shoulder once in a while to check on you guys. Each time he did, he felt butterflies flutter in his breadstick-filled stomach. It was the first time he had seen the two of you so carefree, let alone with each other, and it was the most refreshing thing in the world. 

Steve was in the middle of telling another childhood story, his main plate already finished and practically licked clean. But the unlimited breadsticks were coming out by the pound, a new stick in each of your hands every five minutes. 

“I swear, she loved Bucky more than me!”

You covered your mouth and chewed, careful to not let anything through because of your giggle fit. “Steve! Your mother did not!”

Steve wiped at his under eye, clutching his chest as he continued explaining. “Bucky was always around and my mom would just linger every second she wasn’t working!”

“Bet she loved him.”

“See?”

“No, I mean she must have loved him like her own! Bucky was your best friend, your only friend. She probably thought of him like an angel sent from God!” you clarified. 

Steve smiled wider at your cheesy explanation. They were happy memories, joyful ones that he would often think about while writing or drawing. 

He continued with a soft confession. “I really wish I could see her again.”

You leaned your temple on your palm, “From everything you’ve shared with me, she sounds lovely.”

“She would have loved you.” The blush was back, and so was Steve’s, almost like those words were supposed to be kept in the back of his head. He cleared his throat. “God, she was so destroyed when Bucky first got his orders.”

“Was Bucky scared?”

“Scared? Absolutely fucking terrified. We talked about running away and changing our names so he didn’t have to go.”

The draft was such a horrible practice. The fact that men still had to enlist and hope no ‘necessary’ war was upon them. It was quite reassuring to know most of those men wouldn’t have to see battle today, they were given a choice, and there were agencies that managed people who could, like the Avengers. 

“Steve…”

Steve just hummed softly, “Life in the forties, am I right?

Your voice also got quieter. “Why didn’t you run away?”

Steve huffed out a laugh, swallowing the last of his bread. “We tried. Got all the way to the edge of town before Bucky’s dad wrung us both back to kick our asses.”

Almost out of instinct, you gripped his hand again. You rubbed soothing circles into his knuckles, knuckles that hadn’t seen hand-to-hand combat in so long. There wasn’t much danger in the world nowadays, just small missions here and there. It wasn’t like the team was itching for another alien invasion. But these periods of well needed rest were odd, periods where bruises completely healed up and little pockets of weight were gained. Steve’s knuckles were soft, only having seen the ends of paintbrushes for a long while. 

 “...Where’s your mother?”

His voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you had to repeat the question in your own head a couple times. 

“It’s not a happy story.”

There wasn’t much of a story anyway. 

“But is it a story you need to get off your chest?”

Steve didn’t want to push too hard. The long pause in your relationship definitely didn’t soften this blow, and it only added to the strings of resistance. If you decided not to tell Steve about this, Steve would have to accept it. If anything, this was one of the toughest questions to ask someone when all you’ve been doing is ignoring them for two years. 

“Not really much to get rid of.”

He nodded, only a slight hint of disappointment laced within his words. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Natasha was the only one with any knowledge of your mom. There was never an actual moment in which you freely spoke of her - inserting her likeness, her person, back into some alternate and fucked-up reality - you kept her legacy dead. It was obvious she hadn’t enjoyed this part of her life, no doubt it absolutely killed her to leave you trapped in it, so keeping her dead, even in conversation, was a favor. 

But one drunken night and you were showing Natasha the one photo you had of her, stuffed deep in your wallet and crinkled beyond repair. Her black hair to her shoulders, lip liner a darker shade than her lipstick, hands intertwined behind her back as she arched forward in a playful tilt, shooting the camera a smile that was stuck around the word she was saying as the candid was taken. There was no recorded voice but you had a record of her movement, frozen in time.     

Steve’s sincerity grasped you by the literal roots of your hair, because next thing you knew you were spilling the first thought you had. 

“She was twenty-three. Working as a real estate agent, very beautiful, and she was engaged. To an American.”

Steve chuckled around his champagne glass, “Was that bad?”

You grinned at that, like he was already fully and deeply invested in your story. “Not necessarily. But everyone knew she was taken.”

“And your father?”

“He wanted to buy some houses. Saw her, wanted her, tried persuading her into going on a date. Nothing really worked, she didn’t accept his money or gifts.”

Steve fumbled over his next words. “Did she eventually?”

“No, but her brother did. My father didn’t know it was her brother, so he thought she was accepting them. Got mad when she still refused his advances.”

He was digesting this little by little. Steve had heard horror stories of girls he grew up with, forced to marry at a young age when they were caught in a passionate moment with a man, or when they ended up pregnant. Bucky and his mother had always instructed him to treat women with respect, to never intentionally or accidentally ruin their reputation, to protect and use his voice to stand up for them. And although women weren’t getting frisky with him when he was all but ninety pounds at the ripe age of twenty, that didn’t stop Steve from exchanging a few words and punches with men who had no right.  “How did they end up together?”

You shrugged, reaching over for another breadstick. “No one knows. He invited her to a party one day and she didn’t come back for a whole week. Next thing her family knows she’s engaged to my father and no longer with the love of her life.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah, her family had no choice but to accept that. Her poor fiance, though.” 

“Where is he now?”

Steve had this weird hope that the fiance may still be alive somewhere, waiting for your mother to find him. But that was just the hopeless romantic emerging. 

You sighed deeply, “My father told my mother he killed him. My mother believed him.”

“So, he’s still alive? He didn’t hurt him?”

“Apparently he’s still kicking, yeah. But my mom became severely depressed from that lie.”

The restaurant felt colder and the air became thinner. Steve didn’t want his next thought to be true. “She didn’t...?”

You shook your head quickly, “No, she found out he was alive.” Even if you weren’t witness to it, you could still imagine your mother charting the areas she would have to run and swim through to get away. Wasn’t like it was a heartfelt thought, but the mere fact that she had that much determination to risk her life for love, it was somewhat therapeutic to think about. Like it was genuinely satisfying to imagine her defying your father. Still, your face drooped as you gave Steve the sad conclusion. “She didn’t even make it across the border before he had her killed for betraying him.”

His face fell in time with yours, “Fuck.”

“She left me with Maribel’s mother. But my father found me and told me she had an accident. Didn’t find out the truth until I was thirteen.”

“I’m so sorry.”

You shoved his shoulder with yours, a light chuckle cutting through the sad moment. “Not like you had a hand in this, Steve. It’s just my life.”

You were used to Steve’s generosity, his ability to make any person feel a part of his family - you had been on the receiving end of his sincerity for the past week now. But as you held his gaze, his body seemingly towering over yours, your chest flushed with such warmness, a tranquil promise of safety. He leaned forward, breath hitting your cheeks, hand still gripping yours. 

“Not anymore. We’ll end this, Y/N. I promise you, we’ll end this.”

You took a risk and rested your forehead on his, his continuous promise still causing your stomach to twist pleasurably. “How’d we get so sad all of a sudden?” You pushed away and threw your arms in the air. “We need more breadsticks!”

Steve laughed loudly, the private booth still providing somewhat of a thin curtain to the other diners. “No, we need mints!”

Rolling your eyes, you blew your breath at Steve teasingly. “Weak.”

Steve groaned, “You and Scott are not getting into the car without chewing on a mint.”

“You got a thing against bad breath?”

“Take the mint.”

“I’m gonna fight you if you force the mint on me.”

He was reaching into his jacket and pulling the small case out. He winked at you. “I’ll win.”

He popped open the cap and held it out to you. He didn’t tip it though, as if he was waiting for you to extend your palm. Everything was silent for a minute, eyes challenging one another. 

He could easily lean in. He could easily just tilt his head a little to his left and capture your lips with his. Every damn molecule in his body was telling him to do it, every bubble from that champagne somehow giving him some extra courage. 

Your breath hitched slightly, and he leaned away. I’m such a coward, he thought.

You reacted swiftly, disguising the awkwardness. “You’re right, give me the mint. You should swallow like three.”

Steve snickered, “You ruined the moment.”

But you didn’t ruin the moment. And he just blamed you for it. Like he had already established - he was a coward. 

You grabbed the mints he offered and popped them into your mouth. “What moment? I didn’t see any moment.”

Okay, he could just lean in right now and hope the mint freshness in your mouth would mask the garlic in his. Yeah, he could just lean in and do what he’s been thinking of doing for the last day and a half-

“Hey, you guys finished? Getting dessert?”

Steve almost shot from his seat, “Jesus fucking christ, Scott!”

Scott slid into the seat across from you. “You scare easily. Let’s get dessert!” 

You were too flustered. Fine, okay. You’ll play along. If the gods want to reward you with this fun Steve, the Steve you were closest to years ago, then so be it. You’ll bite. And if he wants to resort back to his bitchy self, his hermit behavior, then you’ll fight him then. 

Scott ordered so much dessert. 

So much. 

The little moment you had with Steve was still fresh, you could sense he was thinking about it too, but you opted to simply enjoy the night out. You were here with two friends, protection was just a phone call away, and you were safe. 

Perhaps Scott had the same effect on Steve that he had on you. Absolutely demolished his ‘Captain’ self and released the guy who simply wanted to enjoy a mini road trip with his friends. 

     You were barely fifteen minutes into your ride home when Scott lowered the windows and turned the radio up high. 

“Woohoo!”

You screamed over the loud roar of the wind, “Scott, it’s fucking freezing!”

Scott yelled back, “We just had three desserts each! Your blood should be running warm!”

You blinked away the dryness, “Dude!”

Steve, surprisingly, agreed with Scott. “Enjoy it!”

Your mouth dropped open and you followed Steve’s movements as he turned the radio higher. 

The music blared and you were about to protest again, the air literally nipping at your sensitive cheeks, but the song that started was a non-skip. 

You would indulge in this childishness once. 

Once. 

You reached around the passenger seat and gripped Steve’s shoulders, shaking him in place. “Ah, California radio giving us the classics!”

Scott leaned over and turned it up higher. 

You swayed in your seat and sang along with Scott. “Bidi bidi bom bom!”

Scott pointed at you and recited the lyrics, “Bidi, bidi!”

Both of you sang, “Bom!”

Even with his eyes on the road, Scott was nailing some good dance moves in his seat. You both sang each lyric with your heart and soul, laughs escaping during the guitar breaks. 

Steve just enjoyed the show. He didn’t know the song, the melody a foreign one for him, but it must have been popular for both you and Scott to know it. He watched you sway in your seat, hands dancing and voice matching the volume of the radio. Just the other night, you had mentioned how you never sang anymore.

But here you were, singing through the most beautiful smile Steve had ever seen. 

He missed the sound of it. He missed hearing you sing in your room, no doubt you were dancing too since he usually heard your feet shuffling against your carpet. He missed the innocence you would casually portray, an invitation for anyone to befriend you. He missed teasing you lightly, and he regretted the roughness of his voice years later. He missed just walking into the common area and finding you there, cooking for yourself and anyone who wanted a plate - that plate usually for him. He missed you. 

You were right here, voice hitting those octaves Steve didn’t think he would ever hear again. You were right here, and he missed you. 

      Scott was staying in a separate room. The dessert and alcohol had run right through him, and he bid you goodnight after he threatened to plop down in your bed if you invited him in. 

The sound of Scott’s retreating footsteps seemed to suck all the air from the vents at once, whispering its song lovingly in your ear. It was both refreshing and terrifying to be left alone because now here you were, standing outside your hotel door with the super soldier you had gone to Hell and back with. 

You inwardly cringed, the tightness in your chest sending your childish ass back to sophomore year of college. A first date, the lost promise of another - a proper teenage reaction to a crush. But this man in front of you wouldn’t let you delete his number from your phone; he wouldn’t avoid eye contact in the dining hall; he wouldn’t sit at the back of the lecture hall just to keep a necessary distance. 

Granted, Elijah - poor, frightened Elijah - had seen you literally kidnap someone off the street under your father’s orders. This being before you went straight and moral, before you had met Fury, before SHIELD training. You were to blame for that sprouting relationship going south pretty quickly. So you avoided him, too - praying Ernesto or Seda could never track him. 

But Steve, beautiful Steve who reloaded your guns when you couldn’t, who jumped in front of stray bullets for you and those he loved, Steve who very quietly asked you for various salsa recipes when he was in the mood to cook. Here he was, eyes also watching Scott walk away, no doubt experiencing the same tight coil within his chest. He hadn’t run, he had worked and fought with and against you, and he wasn’t running away. 

No, Steve Rogers never ran. 

The low beep from the hotel lock snapped you from your thoughts. You sensed his hesitance because when your history was truly reviewed with the most unbiased of minds, there was absolutely no reason to overthink. Hell, when you ran through the halls of Thor’s Asgardian palace with Rocket tailing you, the first joke out your mouth was how Steve would probably instruct you to respect a place like that and speed walk. Your first thought when starting the pilot episode of a new show is to wait for Bucky… and Steve, who would pop the kernels over the stove and add real salt and butter. 

His first thought as he helped load people onto the planes in Sokovia was that your whiny ass better be on one of them. Or when Steve regrouped in the support circle, his first thought before he continued the discussion was that he really hoped you would walk through those doors and join - until one day you did. 

Whether the two of you recognized the severity of your unspoken feelings, they were there. Silent and at a gradual increase. Never rushed, not entirely obvious because of the temporary roadblocks of unnecessary separation. 

Steve was here in front of you, like he always was, and he was wearing the smallest nervous smile you had ever seen.  

And you were here in front of him, like you always were, and he could not entirely read the mixed emotions on your delicate face. 

You shuffled alongside your bed, stopping to shrug out of the heavy jacket you had on. “We should turn in early so we can be well-rested, in case we gotta fight tomorrow.”

Steve nodded in agreement but remained silent, hovering near the coffee table and monitors. Your back was facing him and he just watched you fumble with your boots and belt. It was like your back was on fire, bursting with fueled flames as you could literally feel his gaze boring into you. The overwhelming urge to simply snap and ask him what the hell he was looking at was strong, so in character, but you refrained. It was too intimate, too quiet, but before you could even ask him if he wanted the shower first, the warmth of his chest was near, inches away and calling. 

Your breath hitched, shoulders rising slightly and exactly what Steve needed to witness. It was awkward for him to just stand behind you with no actual intention of touching you first - no, he needed a proper signal. So Steve waited those few precious seconds more until you turned, sun-kissed by the California sun and hair no longer in tight curls, before he glanced down at your glossy lips. You followed his eyesight, all knowing in his intentions, and you glanced at his lips as well. 

A gesture of approval. 

Steve pulled you in, both hands settling on your cheeks, thumbs exploring the corners of your mouth. He watched them dance and how your mouth parted slightly in response. He looked back up, studying the small crease forming in between your eyebrows and the pinch of water filling the inside corners of your eyes.

His thumbs felt like a gentle sigh, a promise of a sweet caress in both the daytime and dead of night. Although all his focus was on you, his own features reacted to the moment. His lips were also parted, sweet breath with the scent of those classic tiramisu’s he had devoured, touching the tip of your nose and equally trembling lips. 

So goddamn intimate that you found yourself internally cursing those sitcoms Wanda had forced you to binge watch. Because the two love interests, albeit they had several months or years of growing tension, rushed into their first kiss for the sake of limited airtime. They didn’t prepare you for practically a ten-year build-up, a relationship that was both heavily work and friend related, the slowness of such a moment fans would most certainly be jumping out of their seats for. No, nothing could have prepared you for the warmth of Steve Rogers. 

Your Captain. 

You registered the soft feeling of his lips as they pressed against yours, overlapped only slightly. Eyes now fully closed in surprise and pleasure, you leaned into it more, hands placed on Steve’s rising chest. The squeeze of his hands cupping your cheeks caused your lips to pucker more, but you were relaxed in his desperate touch. He tilted his head a little to the left, your lips sliding against each other’s and noses bumping. Steve frowned in concentration, pouring whatever emotions he had felt throughout the last few years into this one kiss, and he knew he couldn’t possibly fully portray them. And almost as quickly as you thought about how sweet and innocent of a kiss this was, Steve’s tongue slowly peaked out from behind his teeth and greeted your bottom lip. 

His tongue traced over your bottom lip warmly, welcomed by yours as you followed his lead. God, you would always follow his lead. 

You tried to move in closer, but your elbows were already bent fully against him and his hips were only a few inches from your greedy ones. One tiny step forward and you would be completely flushed against him - but you chose to respect the distance Steve created. 

You let out a quiet whine, body shuddering as Steve applied more pressure. It was as if Steve had never heard such a sound - completely unexpected and causing him to pause momentarily. He leaned away a little, lips still barely kissing yours. He opened his eyes, gaze wandering from your flushed cheeks still squeezed between his palms and to your fluttering eyelids. The crease between his eyebrows deepened as he debated leaning forward again, to be selfish for once and to pass forth the trophy for ‘waiting too long’. But as you opened your eyes, no trace of regret or hate swimming inside your irises, Steve froze. 

You were his friend. His friend who teased him about the paint streaks across his forehead, who followed his lead no matter how ridiculous the order. 

He didn’t want you to inspect him further as well, so he shut his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. It was only then that he felt you settle back down from your tippy-toes. 

You gulped loudly, throat dry and lips instantly craving him again. “Steve…”

Steve let go of your face and dragged his hands lightly down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He turned his head slightly, his breath now kissing your cheek. Although your cheeks were red, the absence of Steve’s palms made them cold. 

He took a small step back, hands straining to stay on your skin as he reluctantly pulled them away. The absence of any warmth finally woke you from that intense daze and you frowned at Steve as he pulled away altogether. The instinct to reach out was there, and you cursed yourself for being so clingy. 

“Steve?” you called again, voice hoarse but light enough to pinch at Steve’s fast beating heart. 

He looked up and locked eyes with your confused ones. Oh, you’re gonna hate him for this. 

He gave you a small and kind smile, one you had seen plenty of times when he was actually enjoying your company. He backed up to the door, gaze never leaving yours even as he reached for the handle and key card. 

And he wanted to bring his hands back to your face to rub away that wrinkle between your furrowing eyebrows. But he simply opened the door and left you standing near the edge of your bed, flushed with a deep sense of longing and growing confusion. 

Steve already knew the amount of heat he would receive from the moment gossip of the kiss spread. Whether he was first to tell or you were. Bucky’s going to kick his ass, for sure, no doubt about it. No matter his bond with Bucky, it could never excuse leaving you alone to unravel this situation. You had this hold over Bucky, a soft mutual understanding of mental torture, so this inevitable ass kicking would be justified. Plus, after years of being rejected over and over, mostly in the forties, Bucky might just kick his ass for simply being a dumbass. 

But Steve felt calm, an added relaxation due to the whiskey cooling in his hand. If there was anything Steve was an expert in, it was overthinking. You two had that in common - were you overthinking while absentmindedly watching TV? Overthinking while rubbing shampoo into your scalp? Overthinking while angrily stomping your way down to the hotel bar to hand his ass back over to him?

He let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t see you burst through the doors. 

      “Anyone wanna start?”

Steve glanced around the circle of familiar and new faces. The group varied each week. Some people would try, share their anecdotes about lost loved ones, only to never show up for another session. Others often attended and never spoke, but they kept returning. Steve didn’t judge their choices - he couldn’t. No matter how many mornings he wanted to crawl back under the sheets and binge eat packaged foods, he never could. He had been at this job for two years. There was both pain and satisfaction in what he did. Sam would be doing this if he were here. 

And he had to do this for Sam. 

“My divorce was finalized yesterday.”

Steve looked over at the man who spoke first, a long-time member of this particular support group, and grimaced at his confession. The man couldn’t have been more than thirty, no wrinkles or gray hair, and he was ending a two-year marriage. 

“I’m sorry, Michael.”

The man, Michael, shrugged sadly, “We still love each other, man. But seeing your newborn disintegrate in your arms does something to your soul that’s just… we both knew we needed to move on. Even if it was from each other.”

Steve squeezed the small, red stress ball in his hand and tried to offer more condolences and a kind smile, but it came out rather painful. He opted to stay silent in case Michael wanted to continue. Instead, another member decided to comment. 

It went like this for almost an hour with Steve adding in his empathetic words of wisdom whenever he saw appropriate. It was good for everyone to share so openly, to carry the conversation with minimal involvement from Steve. Steve had shared snippets of his story with the group awhile back, careful to not mention the gruesome specifics. He had let out as much as he was able, not as much as he would have liked, but his main job was to facilitate. Besides, Steve went to confession every month to talk to someone - anyone - even if he wasn’t necessarily Catholic. But that’s just the thing - no one knew who they were anymore. 

The sound of a scraping chair leg caught everyone’s attention, and they all turned to the entrance in search of the disruption. You paused in your movements, face scrunched in embarrassment. Opening one eye, you mouthed a quick apology and rushed to carry the chair to the circle. 

“I’m sorry I’m late. Subway was a bitch,” you muttered, your embarrassed smile growing wider. 

For over a year, Steve had subtly urged you to attend one of these meetings. He was witness to your nightmares, your destructive solo missions that even Friday had no records of, and your sudden breakdown last week. You were casually jogging around the outdoor track when you suddenly stopped and fell to your knees, broken sobs seeming to shake the trees around you. You were crouched for a good minute before Steve had seen you wipe your eyes and continue your jog. As if nothing happened. 

To see you here, whether to share or to listen, prompted the proud and erratic beating of Steve’s heart. 

“It’s completely fine. Time’s almost up but we still got time for you.”

You sent Steve a funny smile, amused by his professional tone. “Uh, yeah! A friend convinced me to come. He was pretty persuasive.”

Steve blushed, head tilting downward. 

You introduced yourself and let the group know you were also an Avenger. No one seemed shocked and you were suddenly grateful for this mixture of people. 

Steve sat and listened, his nerves settling. 

“I’m gonna be honest with you all,” you started, thumbs dancing in your lap. “And I’m not sure how you’ll react.”

Steve sat up straight, eyebrows scrunching as he listened intently. 

You sighed, wetting your lips briefly. “The day before the snap, I was supposed to die.”

You wanted to avoid Steve’s gaze until the right moment. You continued, “I went on a mission to Mexico. Alone, which was completely against protocol but hey, we broke a lot more rules than that.”

Steve cleared his throat which earned a chorus of chuckles from the group. 

“And I was technically on house arrest but I found out a way to temporarily disable that ankle monitor,” you added, grinning from the laughs you were receiving. 

“Anyway, all my potential backup was nonexistent. I had friends on the run,” you paused, glancing at Steve with a somber expression. “And other friends literally fighting another battle on their home planet somewhere in space. So, I went alone.”

“While I was bleeding out from a bullet my own father ordered, Tony was already up in space. Loki was already dead.”

You hoped no one commented on Loki’s role in your life. He wasn’t exactly a nice figure to suddenly name drop in New York, but he was important in your grief. 

It was slightly unnerving to be on display here, but you weren’t exactly planning on returning. You just needed to rant. 

“I stitched myself up the best I could in that quinjet - which I almost crashed,” you muttered, smirking at Steve. “Sorry, Cap.”

“This is the first time I've heard you flew. You’re not even authorized to fly,” Steve declared, face scrunched in confusion and astonishment. 

“That’s not important,” you teased. “But the stitches were messy work. Horrible criss-crosses.”

Steve was in a tiny state of shock. He had known what happened to you, but to hear you talk so casually about the day before the world went to shit - it just made it more real. 

You had mentioned before that you never dreamed about the snap, but about everything leading up to it. 

“I woke up, betrayed yet again by my own blood, and Steve was suddenly there after two years. We were gonna fight an outside threat.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed lightly, “I was still healing but I was on the battlefield. Stayed close to Nat most of the time.”

The group was heavily invested in your retelling. “I couldn’t fight him, obviously. But I did see him. I saw how he ripped that stone from my friend’s head.”

A few winces sounded around the circle. 

“I guess I feel immense guilt. Like, I could have done something more even though realistically, I couldn’t. Kinda feels like I sat back and watched my friend’s die.”

No one spoke, but it was obvious everyone had survivor’s guilt. 

“And now, I’m living with the pain of having all three of my best friends stripped from me while also celebrating the fact that the snap took my father.”

Shrugging, you gave your last sad smile to the group. “I feel guilty for what happened while also being grateful it took someone who deserved it.”

After a few seconds of silence, Steve spoke. “You’re here today to tell your story. No one has to agree or disagree with you. It’s your story. Tell it like it is.”

You chuckled, “I could easily bother Steve with this at the compound.” You smiled at the teenager clutching what looked like a stuffed animal in his lap. “But I had nothing else to do tonight. My only friends are gone.”

“You and Steve aren’t friends?”

This time it was Michael that spoke, his eyes bouncing from you to Steve. You turned to Steve for some kind of answer. Was it a yes? Were you more like coworkers than true friends? 

Steve’s eyes softened and his kind smile was back. 

You answered, “I guess. I did come here for him.”

Steve rolled his eyes and kept his light-hearted tone, “I’m really glad you did.” 

Steve backtracked, clearing his throat as he addressed the circle. “I’m really glad all of you did. Same time next week.”

You busied yourself with stacking the chairs and dusting off your pants. Once most of the group had left, Steve gathered his things and walked over to you. “You take the subway?”

Your head shot up at the sound of his voice, and you stacked the final chair high. “I did. You drive?”

Steve hummed in response, “Want a lift?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re not staying at your place tonight?”

“Nah, I haven’t seen Nat in a week. I should pay her a visit.”

He curled his jacket around your shoulders as you exited the building. You held it tightly, relishing in the comfort. The walk back to the car was quiet but not awkward. After such a heavy night, silence was most definitely needed. And just the comfort of being around someone you trusted added to the relaxation aspect of it all. 

Steve kicked a loose piece of gravel to the street. You watched him for a few seconds before you spoke, voice light and a puff of cold air escaping your lips. 

“Steve?” 

He turned to you and waited for you to continue speaking. 

“You know Sam would be so proud of you doing this, right?”

Steve watched the cold air leave his own lungs as well. He felt the weight of that statement pressing down on his shoulders as he looked up at the dark sky. “I know.”

     Steve knew he was utterly fucked, so fucked that any line that had been established was stepped over and kicked a thousand yards back. His mind was made up, he would not run, he would not succumb to some former mindset 2016 Steve would have fallen victim to. He was a new person, a completely different person than he was out of the ice and after the snap. He deserved to cross the line, he deserved whatever happiness was afforded to him - he deserved comfort in the arms of another after years of denying himself. 

He downed the rest of his drink with a loud gulp, mind made up, and headed back to your room. 

    It was best to just pretend it never happened… no? But did you want to pretend it never did? So many moments over the years where this could have happened, where either of you could have literally just said ‘fuck it’. As overthinking was a specialty, quite a useless skill, you thought about the countless fights you had. 

Red in the face, hands clenched until nails imprinted little crescents, absolutely seething at the mouth. Some of the things you would yell were vile, none at all honest but with the intent to cause pain for only a moment, and mumbled apologies later. You were literally enemies for these past two, long years. Enemies who had to be seated and scolded, tricked into accepting defeat and living as teammates once more. 

Perhaps one of those arguments could have been remedied by simply leaning in like you had tonight, by throwing each other against the wall, by pulling the roots of your hair as he tugged-

Nope. 

Nope. 

No matter how much tension you were now realizing you had for this man, tension that could literally be fucked out, wasn’t it too late to act on it? You couldn’t pinpoint the chance you maybe had and missed. 

Steve walked through the door in the middle of your rapid brainstorming. He just grinned sweetly and slipped into the bathroom. 

As simple as that. 

Now you couldn’t discern between the feelings of wanting to fight him or fuck him. Not being able to differentiate between them ignited a sour mood, and once he stepped out from the shower, you basically pushed him to the side to lock yourself in. 

Even the warm water hitting your body couldn’t alleviate the pressure of overthinking. You disregarded your hair tonight and instead just washed your body. As quick as you could jump back out and go to bed, the better.  

Sucking in a deep breath, you opened the door and shut off the bathroom light. Your eyes landed on Steve’s torso, shirtless and the only thing not covered by the white blanket. He hadn’t shaved his beard either, the length evident when he kissed you earlier. It felt wrong and right at the same time, a battle that you seriously did not want to deal with. To get involved with your mission partner was dangerous - not because Steve himself was dangerous, but because it was a giant distraction. A distraction that you couldn’t afford. 

But as he put down his book and lay it in his lap, looking up to look at you through hooded eyes, sleepy but alert, the ‘danger’ was nothing but enticing. 

You cleared your throat and padded down your pajama shorts absentmindedly, slinging your hair over one shoulder and focusing on plugging your charger into your phone. It was so silent besides your pitter-patter, and god, did Steve find that sound so relaxing, until you climbed into bed. Once your shuffling was done, the slight buzzing of Steve’s desk lamp drowned out all your other senses. And the longer it was heard, the more it sounded like a ticking clock. 

Steve shut the lamp off, the only light now illuminating your figure from outside. He studied your breathing, watching how every so often you would bring your hand up to scratch your cheek or move a stray hair. You looked so gentle, so inviting, so small. 

You were turned away from him and facing the wall, eyes shut as you listened to his movements. There was a small part of you that wanted to stay up all night talking, to lean on his shoulder and simply feel his warmth, to feel that beard against your cheek one more time. As quickly as those thoughts flashed through your mind did you scold yourself, that this was inappropriate and wrong and so dangerous. 

You felt a dip in your bed, heavy and unsure, a lift of your blankets, and it happened so quickly that you could have sworn you dreamt it. Steve wrapped his arm around you, his broad chest pressed tightly against your back and his lips attacked the skin just below your earlobe. Your breath hitched, eyes shot open, and your hands reached up to grip his wrist. Steve stilled. 

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed, lips hovering over your blushing skin and breath practically blistering. You could feel him now, hard and pulsing against your ass and ready to move. You felt dizzy, overcome with such a rush of desire that you couldn’t help but stiffen in his tight grasp. 

“Don’t,” you choked out, feeling his body become rigid and his breath begin to quicken. 

“I’m sorry I-” he began to move away from you, voice no longer a whisper and tainted with panic. 

“No,” you pulled back, tilting your head up to lock eyes with him. You brought your arm up to grasp the back of his head, and you tugged it back to your neck. “Don’t stop.”

Yeah, he was utterly fucked. “Fuck,” he groaned, continuing the attack on your neck. But he gained momentum now, arm squeezing you against him tighter, and voice cracking as he moaned your name. 

“Steve, please do something.”

Your hands found their way back to his arm, gripping it tightly as he fumbled with the waistband of your shorts. He played with it, teasing in his actions, almost as punishment for the years you tormented him with your attitude. His lips pressed harder now, finding each patch of available skin on your neck and flushed cheek, and Steve has never felt so aroused in his life. He wasn’t even inside you, but the quick gasps he heard from you did plenty in aiding the rush of blood from his head to his stiffening cock. 

“Tell me what you want. Please, tell me and I’ll give it to you,” he moaned, the slightest experimental role of the hips causing you to whimper. 

“Touch me,” you practically sobbed, rolling your hips back against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt all of him.  

And just like that, he gave you what you asked for. He gripped your hip and shoved you closer to him, hot and ready and pressed firmly against you. He rolled his hips into you, little whimpers of his own touching your sensitive ear. He quickened his pace and he found it hard to think straight when the scrunch of pleasure all over your face, making you look so willing, was all he was focused on. He focused on the way you bit your lip, a bite and then a gasp, and then you were back to biting as if you were trying to restrain any higher moan. And even with only the moonlight illuminating the room, he could see the sun-kissed color of your skin and the bruising he was causing. He kept his mouth on you as he rocked himself against you, indulging in a few more selfish seconds of pleasure before becoming his generous self. 

He dipped his hand into your shorts and found the sweet nub that so desperately needed attention. His brain almost short circuited, the feeling of his fingers finally sliding into your wet lips making his throat dry. He drew little but skilled circles, each twirl of his index and middle finger in unison with the grind of his hips. Your mouth fell open by such pleasure, and you braced yourself by placing your left palm on the mattress and pressed down, nails scratching the cotton fabric and alerting Steve of your excitement. You pushed back against him, timed and in perfect harmony. 

You knew the room wasn’t on fire, but even if it was you didn’t think to check. 

“Keep talking to me, Y/N. Keep talking to me,” Steve begged, each rotation of his hips gaining pressure. His eagerness prompted you to reach back up and grab him by the hair, yanking his head to your tilted one and smashing his lips against yours. Steve gasped at the pleasant sting, somewhat surprised with himself that he liked that form of roughness. But who was he to judge his kinks when the tip of your nose was turning redder, the blush in your cheeks mixed with barely visible silver droplets of sweat, and a purple outline was beginning to form on your plump upper lip? 

The kiss was sloppy, uncoordinated, but still beneficial in getting Steve to rut against you even harder. 

He could so easily pull your shorts down and enter you, and if he was anything like he felt, then you knew it would sting. But you craved that sting and stretch, the thought of him inside you causing another gush of desire to leak from you. Steve dipped his finger deeper into you only to accumulate your juices and spread them higher. He went back to rubbing expertly, actions gaining speed to match your whimpers. 

“Fuck, Steve,” you moaned louder, and you swore you felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You pressed back harder, his hand rubbing and pressing down on your stomach simultaneously. Your head felt cloudy, the pleasure coursing through your veins and to the very tips of your toes. “Oh, my fuck.”

Steve paused his fingers to trail his hand back up your stomach and to your breasts, pulling your tank top down to spill them. The sounds leaving your throat set him on fire, desire pulsing everywhere - his head, his heart, his aching cock that was pressed so closely against you that he could feel you vibrating. He pinched your nipple and rolled it, closing his eyes in response to your dirty purrs. “Let me make you come, doll.”

“Wasn’t that the point?” you quipped, ass tilting at an angle that caused Steve to choke. He growled from the attitude he couldn’t believe you still fucking had during a moment like this and kissed you roughly, both your broken moans molding into one. His hand returned to your shorts. 

“Do that again,” he begged, hitching his leg up to rest on yours. The angle allowed him to drive his hips even harder. You maneuvered to provide the same tilt, grinning at the pleasurable cries that left your Captain’s mouth. 

“I think I’m gonna make you come first,” you chuckled and took his bottom lip between your teeth. You pulled lightly, concentration still in the circle of your hips. He looked back down at you, determination and undeniable lust in his eyes. He thrust his aching cock against you, sliding himself over your ass. He did it hard but slow, the pressure applied giving the head of his cock such a sweet squeeze as he bumped it against the curve of your lumbar spine. 

The heavy duvet was abandoned now, cold air from the hotel air conditioner failing in cooling you down at all. You both had a thin sheet of sweat on your clothed bodies, goosebumps standing proudly, and lips all plump and red from your harsh kissing. 

Steve held you so close, so tight, and his fingers were drawing such rushed and tiny circles that you swore his wrist had to be cramping up. But the sound of both your whimpers started to mesh together, alerting you of such a sweet climax up ahead. 

“Steve, fuck, fuck, ohh,” you mewled, voice now high pitched and yes, it turned Steve on incredibly but it also fueled you. Your pornographic moans ignited an even deeper desire within you, just the true fact that Steve was touching you, Steve was getting you to make these sounds, Steve is actually hearing these sounds, Steve is making the same exact sounds. 

 “I-, please, come for me,” Steve pleaded, cock twitching with each thrust as he neared his end. “Make me come.”

His begging, his equally high voice, his skilled fingers rubbing rapidly and the slight pain from that, his breath burning your neck, were all too powerful, their combinations causing the fire in your core to explode and make you see white in a flash, black dots later clouding your vision. Your nails dug into his moving arm, crescents branded into him. You clenched around nothing, walls fluttering and thighs shaking as they pressed around his hand and fingers. 

The inappropriate squelching sound of your juices spreading as your thighs clenched around his cramping fingers, the slide so sensual and dirty, had Steve rutting against you one, two, three more times before he came in hard but long spurts. His mouth hung open, breath still fanning your neck, and his eyes were so tightly shut that the force was enough to strain them. 

“Oh, fuuuck, yes, yes!” Steve groaned, his body taking longer than usual to recover. His orgasm was powerful, more powerful than when he got himself off in the shower or in the comfort of his bed at night, and he knew it was because you clouded his senses. Of course, there was an added benefit to getting off with someone else, aiding that person in the same endeavor, but because it was you, it made the climax even more forceful, more intense. The whole situation was both unexpected and calculated, gentle and rough, and Steve’s heart was beating so fast by the thought of what just occurred that he found himself wanting to spill into you all night long, and to apologize for overstepping an unspoken boundary. 

You could feel the wetness of both your own release and Steve’s, head still cloudy from such a sharp orgasm. You hummed in satisfaction, reaching your arm over once again to lift his head up by his hair. He hissed at the pull now, his body all fucked out and satisfied. “You good?”

Steve gave you a lazy smile, chest heaving in unison with yours. “I’m okay. You?”

“I’m good.”

Steve scanned your face for any regret just in case your words held other meaning, but all he could see was your satisfied expression, cheeks still flushed pink, hair tangled, and pupils dilated. He hesitated for a second before he leaned down and connected your lips, molding his with yours slowly and chastely. You both sighed at the feeling, highs now lowering and the coldness from the air conditioner causing a different set of goosebumps to appear. Steve pulled away, giving you one last peck as if testing the waters, and rested his forehead against yours. You both relished your post-orgasm bliss for a few silent minutes before cleaning up. 

You shared playful shoves as you cleaned up. It was almost innocent, a huge contrast to the sinful activities you two had just committed, but there was a genuine feeling of understanding in the room. Your heart clenched at the simple sight of Steve washing his hands, eyes meeting his in the mirror, a soft look in his that startled you. 

You gave him a smile so as to not alert him of your reaction, and exited the bathroom to climb back into bed. You drew the heavy duvet back over your body and cuddled in it deeply, chin hidden underneath and back facing Steve’s bed. It was a few more minutes before Steve came back into the room, shutting the light off, and looking at your resting form. He wanted to climb back in with you and hold you innocently, to have the feeling of your warm back against his broad chest, gentle exhales tickling the arm that would wrap around you. But he just looked back and forth from your bed and his, and he decided to not push the boundary further. He hesitated with this decision, but climbed into his own bed, the feeling of his cold sheets making him immediately regret it. He shuffled silently, his body facing yours. 

You wanted to lay beside him too. But whether you were making a smart decision or an absurd, cowardly one, one thing was certain: you could no longer ignore the stacking of such emotions you had for this man. 

It almost angered you, how much you denied yourself of even a simple crush for literally ten years, and it made you mad at Steve, too. Because if he hadn’t pushed you away, then maybe you could have accepted this sooner. 

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Dressrosa (Part Two)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

wild how this is upwards of 750 chapters in and yet i still get a big dumb smile whenever luffy declares he’s going to be king of the pirates. one piece is a series very much driven by its main characters and their goals and dreams- i don’t think it would be nearly as good if the main character was anyone but monkey d. luffy. 

personally, i always just feel kind of proud whenever he says this, because- yeah!! he is!! that’s luffy, he’s going to be king of the pirates, and we’ve known that since day fucking one. 

i really think there’s something to be said about usopp never taking credit for saving luffy and law from sugar. it’s arguably his greatest feat in the entire series thus far- an impossible, perfect shot across an entire country, with an angry mob inches from his back- and he never even tells anybody he did it. he’s come a long way from someone who tells tall tales about heroic acts he never did to someone who doesn’t even feel the need to take credit for ones he really did, so long as his friends are safe.

i really like how corazon’s introduction and characterization throughout the flashback is handled. at the start of law’s flashback, we know a few things about him already: that he’s someone law loved very much, and that he was killed by doflamingo. we know how this ends. 

but then cora is introduced as a clumsy mute weirdo who nearly kills law as one of the very first things he does, and we as the audience aren’t really sure how to reconcile that- and then the rest of the flashback is us, along with law, slowly discovering what a complicated and contradictory but ultimately good person he is. something very similar happens with the asl flashback- we know the endpoint of luffy and ace’s relationship, but the flashback is all about how they got there, from attempted murder to willing self-sacrifice. 

i think it’s really cool the way law and doflamingo’s backstories are layered together. they’re characters who exist with a lot of parallels and similarities between them already, which is something they’re both clearly aware of- i’ve mentioned before i think the only real difference between them is that law got corazon where doflamingo got the executives- and presenting their backstories simultaneously only makes that more obvious. 

i’ve always found it so interesting that we get what’s pretty much our only substantial exposition about the will of d direct from a former celestial dragon. it makes sense- cora’s basically the only character we’ve met who both has this information and is willing to share it-  but i don’t know, there’s something that feels very poetic to me about him having this information that’s clearly been suppressed and hidden by the dragons and willingly choosing to share it in order to help protect law, a D, who should technically be the very enemy he was once taught to hate and fear. 

i really like corazon. 

it fucks me up that we can tell the exact moment cora dies from the moment law starts making noise again. 

this might be a controversial take? i’m not sure. but i like baby five. i think her and sai’s relationship is really sweet, and people might complain about her getting off easy or whatever but i’m honestly glad she gets a happy ending after being thoroughly emotionally abused and broken her entire life. and on a lighter note, she’s also just a fun character to watch through the whole arc- the running gag with her crying whenever law glares at her is still one of my favorites in the whole series. 

the shot of robin’s bloody back is a favorite of mine, because it’s a reveal that doesn’t get lingered on at all, and yet at once it gives the entire proceeding scene a lot more weight when we understand just how much pain she must’ve been in the entire time. and yet she never even flinched or faltered while protecting rebecca. nico robin is very, very strong. 

there’s something so deliciously fitting about diamante’s final fall ending with him cracking his head on scarlett’s grave, and something so lovely about kyros and rebecca finally getting their proper reunion there, when neither of them ever really got a chance to mourn.

law’s line about the strawhats trailing nothing but miracles in their wake is one of the first ones i always think of when i think about the strawhats in general and luffy in particular, mostly because it’s so true. from the very beginning, the strawhats have been doing the impossible, from sailing to the sky to breaking in and out of the world’s greatest prison, and law saw that and staked all his hopes on it and they did not let him down. 

also i think it’s very cool of law to, when held at gunpoint and down an arm, grin, flip doflamingo off, and tell him to eat shit and that luffy is going to kick his ass. love that for him.

i think dressrosa does a very good job of making the victory against doflamingo equally law’s and luffy’s. they cooperate and trade off fighting him throughout the arc to great effect, and i think it’s pretty clear that neither of them could have tackled the massive challenge of dressrosa alone. 

while the final fight is luffy’s, it’s made clear that that’s only after law’s done absolutely everything he could and spent the majority of the arc distracting doflamingo, keeping him occupied, and even fucking shredding his insides with pure radiation before finally needing to tap out. i think it’s a good balance, given that luffy is the protagonist but law’s grudge against doflamingo is the driving force behind the entire arc. 

conqueror’s haki clashes are always very cool, pretty much regardless of who or where or why, but the one between luffy and doflamingo is a favorite. 

one of the things that’s always impressed me about one piece in comparison to other shounen series is how it handles its powerscaling- in that it does it well with a gradual increase and villains who vary widely in strength instead of every arc necessarily needing to be bigger and better than the last- and i think the way it handles powering up the main characters is a big part of that. 

through the entirety of one piece thus far, i’d say luffy has had three major power-ups- second and third gear in enies lobby, haki at the timeskip, and gear four here in dressrosa (an argument could also be made for ryuuou in wano, but i think that’s less major than these others). this helps prevent runaway powerscaling and also makes new power-ups feel like a genuine event, which i really like. 

i once referred to luffy as ‘hopebringer’ in a conversation with friends, and it’s a descriptor for him i think sums up really well how he manages to save so many people while insistently not being a hero. luffy inspires people, inspires whole countries, starting all the way back with coby in romance dawn. it’s one of the reasons i think it’s fitting how thoroughly he’s associated with the dawn. 

doflamingo is very, very scary. which is interesting, because he’s indisputably less powerful someone like kaidou, but at the same time i find him a much scarier villain, and i think it comes down to doflamingo’s gleeful, wanton cruelty. not that kaidou is in any way shape or form a nice person, but our first introduction to doflamingo is him forcing marines to attack each other just because he’s a little bored. he hurts people just because he can, and finds it funny. 

relating to my earlier comment about hope, i really like how the whole country comes together at the end to cheer luffy on and count down to his return. it makes it feel all the more triumphant when it does, especially for the citizens of dressrosa who’ve been suffocating under doflamingo’s rule for years and can finally, finally see freedom.

other people have put a lot more thought of the symbolism of doflamingo’s eyes and glasses than i intend to, but i’ll settle for saying that it’s the breaking of the glasses, before anything else, before the birdcage even vanishes from the sky and everyone is safe, that shows us that, at long last, doflamingo is well and truly defeated. his glasses break, and so does his power. 

i’ve written a longer post about it before (here) but it’s a recurring motif that one piece’s worst villains are those that steal people’s freedom, including, in the cruelest cases, the freedom to express their emotions openly. we see it with koala and the celestial dragons, with the failed smile fruits in wano, and here, too, with kyros. and, much like koala, triumph for him means finally being able to cry. 

i mentioned it back in the first post, but i’m so, so happy rebecca and kyros get the happy ending they deserve. they’ve both been fighting a war that they never should have had to for years and years, and they both deserve to get to just live, now, peaceful and quiet and together and surrounded by flowers. 

i really dig the note dressrosa ends on. it’s happy, of course, obviously, with the liberation of the country, kyros and rebecca’s happy ending, the creation of the grand fleet, even law getting some degree of closure through his talk with sengoku, but it also leaves this massive, gaping question- what now? 

in a way, doflamingo’s speech here follows up on law’s new era speech from punk hazard. luffy and law have just thrown a major wrench into the delicate power equilibrium of the entire new world, and we have all these characters out there who might be affected, who might want to take advantage, who might try to seize the throne. 

[kurohoely]

always (daichi x y/n)

part 3

genre: exes to lovers, slow burn(?) idk how genre works, sfw, daichi!timeskip

cw: sexual harassment wc: 2.2k

a/n: it pains me this part so much :') but i realli like how i wrote this part hehe i hope you do too!! enjoy :D likes and reblogs are highly appreciated :))

part one , part two, part three

Not once you had the heart to block his number, even after you blocked him from all of your social media. You hoped that by leaving this one door open, he will find a way to come back to you, or at least reach out to you again. Your legs were exerting heat, pumping your muscles to make you walk faster so that you can reach your home as soon as possible. With the constant gasping for air, vibrating through your body, you didn’t realize the faint vibration of your phone, lighting up with a notification from daichi <3. Grabbing your keys from your bag, unlocking the door while kicking your sandals off from your feet. You opened your sliding door, letting the spring breeze fill up your atmosphere. What a nice way to cool down your body. You dug your hands into your bag, fumbling to find your phone. Unconsciously, you unlocked your phone without seeing the notifications that popped up, skimming through your apps, and seeing whatever apps had the number badge on them. The last app you scrolled to was your messages. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the number one on the top corner of the icon. You pressed it, heart pounding, excreting cold sweats from your fingers. There, you saw his message.

“It was nice seeing you at our shop. If you’re free tomorrow, can we catch dinner together?”

Einstein is right, time and space are gravity because you can feel your insides starting to churned then float away, as your time stopped and your spatial awareness came to halt as well. It was as if the universe let this moment freeze for you, to take in whatever you are seeing and experiencing right now. You should’ve listened to what your mind and friends said back then, block him everywhere. Don’t leave a hole for him to come into your life again. You know this is going to hurt either way but you want to be done with it once and for all. You both need proper closure, and not some petty teenager’s love quarrel.

“You too. I’m free tomorrow”

“Great, see you at our shop at 8?”

Daichi replied instantly like he was waiting on his phone for your reply. You don’t want to show too much enthusiasm, especially when things are going to end anyway, so you thumbs-upped his last text, letting him know you agree to his suggestion. You wanted to cringe so badly that Daichi kept referring to the coffee shop as our shop but you couldn’t. In fact, you found it very sweet and a bit romantic. You plopped down onto your bed, creating scripts in your head to all the possible scenarios that could happen between the both of you tomorrow, not forgetting to include her. Be strong y/n, you got this. You have to. You gotta move on.

7:30. You slipped the black silk dress that you wore on your first date with Daichi, just so you can rewrite the memories of this dress, removing bits and pieces of him in your life. You tied your hair into a low ponytail and started making your way to the shop. Upon reaching the shop, you were greeted by Daichi’s figure. It made your heart flutter seeing him dressed up so nicely as well. It gave you proof that it wasn’t a one-sided effort to make the date look like a proper one. A date, huh…

You both sat down at a secluded spot so you can have a more private conversation. Things were too uncertain, both of you prepared for the polar opposite of each other’s expectations. Daichi wanted to start over while you wanted to end everything once and for all. You both placed your order, starting off with some small awkward small talk, trying to lighten up the air. While waiting for the food to come, Daichi mustered up all his courage and started the conversation that you both came for.

“Y/n, I know this is going to sound stupid and crazy coming from me, but I couldn’t help it. I want to know, hell, I need to know. It’s been six months since we broke up but have you ever thought of getting back together?”

You gasped at his audacity to ask you that while he was in a relationship. It never crossed your mind how Daichi could stoop any lower but he just proved you wrong right in your face. You straighten your back, eyes looking straight into his eyes, trying to find any guilt within them. None. You could feel his sincerity. What the hell is going on?

“Daichi, if you want me back just because you have no one, I don't want it. What you want is someone that listens to you - a dumb bitch that listens - as to how you said it. I’ve heard enough for today Daichi. I don’t think I could take anything more than this. Focus on your girl. You can be mean towards me but to the very least I don't want you to be a cheater for her. I came here to get some type of closure with you. Seems like I got it now”

Your tongue worked faster than your brain could even process it. Not enough time to even register and consider how Daichi - or at least you - would feel if someone would throw the exact words to you. Before you knew it, your eyes started to pool. You dashed out from the shop before the tears came pouring down in front of Daichi. You left before you could hurt yourself even more. You know you hurt Daichi but it hurts you more than you anticipated. For once, why couldn’t you follow what your heart really wants, what it has yearned for so long, all this time?

You walked through the main street of your house, the same old usual route. The street was pretty bright, given the new street lamps just got placed along the road but being a woman in this god-forsaken world, you can never be too prepared. You placed your thumb on the circle button of the app the whole time. If you suddenly released it and if you didn’t touch the circle within a few seconds, it will automatically call your emergency contacts. Such a smart thing, you thought to yourself but what you failed to notice was a drunk man starting to close his distance, moving towards you.

You were greeted by the sudden jerk on your shoulder. A drunk man putting his hands around your shoulder, started to massage your arms, feeling your flesh through your jacket. You froze and pushed his hands off, bowing to him and saying sorry that you’re in a hurry. He grabbed your wrist with a force that you know will leave blue marks. You were so scared that he would swing his bottle at you if you tried to fight longer. In all of the days, you were always careful. Your frustration with Daichi made you drop your guard slightly and someone took the chance. You repeatedly asked the drunk man to let you go, lying that your husband is around and going to pick up you soon. He inches his face in closer, opening his mouth as if wanting to slobber you whole. You felt disgusted by the strong pungent smell of alcohol and just wished Daichi was here. Wishing you had at least someone to walk you home. Why the world was so cruel to you lately. Why can't you ever feel safe and peacefully enjoy this week?

“Y/N!”

Daichi shoved the man aside, took your hand, and started to run. You followed his steps as best as you could. After Daichi deemed it was safe enough, he stopped. Huff and puffs, hands still interlocked with each other.

“Are you okay!? Thank God I made it in time. Oh my God. I shouldn’t have let you walk alone in the night. Are you hurt anywhere?”

Before you could even answer, tears gushed down your cheeks. You wailed and sobbed your heart out. You placed your head into Daichi’s chest, clasping his shirt to find any form of comfort. Maybe this was something that needed to happen for you to be fully open and vulnerable with Daichi. He hugged you tightly, hushing sweet nothings into your ears. It's not that you were crying about what just happened, it's more like the mere thought of Daichi in that situation makes you cry your heart out. Even when your life was threatened, you still managed to remember Daichi. But is this the right choice? Daichi rubs your shoulders gently.

“Come on, let's get you back home”

He opened your apartment’s door, guiding you to sit down on the couch. He went into your bedroom and wrapped a blanket over your body. He placed the takeouts on the kitchen counter, making his way to make some tea to calm you down. You sit down on the couch, hugging your knees. Daichi plopped down, folded one of his legs, and faced his body to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face, so grabbed your mug and hugged your fingers around it.

“How come you were there?”

“I chased you after you left. I think we have some misunderstanding so I wanted to go to your house and talk again. I’m so glad that I followed you, even though it was a bit late... I’m sorry”

You finally look at Daichi. Concerned, fear, disappointment painted clearly across his face. Before you could open your mouth, he continued.

“Y/n, I'm not sure why you kept saying ‘her’ and ‘my girl’ repeatedly so I tried to trace back to the first meeting. I saw you in the lobby and by that time, I was with my twin cousin. She just got this job recently and she asked me to come for lunch and show me around. I swear she's family and nothing more.”

How is it that Daichi never fails to see through you, even if it took him a bit of time? You covered your face with your mug. Heat started rising up your cheeks and up to your ears. It's getting really hot and it’s not coming from the blanket. So much for wanting to act like a grown-up and not having some petty love quarrel. You almost ended your only chance of getting back together by some childish assumptions. Oh, how you wish the earth could swallow you whole and never let you out. Daichi tucked your hair back to your ears, gently pulling your hands into his, placing them in between his.

“Hey, was that the reason you left the shop? I’m hurt y/n”

A sprinkle of sarcasm was woven into his words. You know it but you can't help that as if a whole block of weight slipped through your shoulders as you sighed into relief. He squeezed your hands firmer, signaling things are going to get even more serious.

“Y/n, I want you. I still love you. I never stopped loving you. When you left, I couldn't feel anything. I eat and sleep just because I have to. It kept me alive. Remember when we met at our shop? That was the first time I started running again, picking up my routine back. I want our relationship to work. I want us to work.”

“Daichi, I’m scared to start again. I hate that I keep contradicting myself. I don't want anything with you but when I got caught by that man, all I could think was you”

“I know y/n. I’m sorry that you have to go through that but I want to give us another chance if you let me. I know I ended it badly but I feel like I rushed to a decision that I didn't even want. If there's still some love left inside you, please let me in again. Please let me make us work.”

You squeezed Daichi’s hands, finding some strength that you could borrow from him. You pushed his arms and placed them over your shoulders, placing your head against his chest, snuggling soundly in his embrace. You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent, mixed with his musky perfume. The scent of home.

“Okay, Daichi. I want us to start again. I still love you. I will always love you”

He kissed your hairline, pulling your body flushed into his. His hug tightened quickly as if you’re going to go away if he held any looser. You chuckled as you pat his arms, reassuring him that you won't leave him. You straightened up your body and kissed his cheeks. Pink tint painted across Daichi's nose and cheeks.

“Do you wanna stay here for the night? It's already late and it's the weekend tomorrow anyways, if you don't have any work that is”

“I would love to”

Daichi stood up and took your hand, tugging your body towards your bedroom. He laid you down first before he placed himself beside you, draping his arms around your waist, foreheads touching each other. You both looked into each other eyes, finally seeing the love that was long hidden by other emotions.

“Good night Daichi”

You snuggled into his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it was your lullaby for tonight. He stared at you before he moved his lips to kiss the crown of your head, whispering the words that you longed for.

“Good night sweetheart. I love you. Forever and always”

[aspiestvmusings]

WandaVision Questions

SPOILERS for whole series of WandaVision

Here is a very long list of questions that the series has still not fully answered & ones that they have..kinda...answered already: 

I’ve separated the questions by Character/Topic they are referring to. 

I do not think we’ll get answers to each of these. There’s just not enough time. Even if the finale is the lenght I’m hearing it is. But several..yes. And more will be left as “cliffahangers” and expored in other/future MCU projects...

WANDA 

What or Who did Wanda see exactly during that Mind Stone experiment in Sokovia? Did she see a vision of her futrure self as Scarlett Witch? Did a past or different Scarlett Witch appear to her? Did the “vision” pass the crown on to her, choosing her as the next scarlett witch [Find the Goddess within]? Did she “absorb” the figure she saw? Did it just appear to her as a “vision” from the future or past..or a different dimension? And who exactly was it? BASICALLY ANSWERED in 1x09

Is Wanda a born witch or a born mutant? Her powers seemed to first manifest at around age 10 [10 = X = x gene]... same is happening to her Twins in the hex. This seems to suggest she was born “different”, and the mind stone just awakened & heightened her powers. 

When did Wanda go to SWORD? How much time had passed since Tony’s funeral & her talk with Hawkeye? Same/Next day or a bit/week later? 

How did Wanda know Vision’s body was there? Was the info in his “living will” or did Avengers have that info on file somewhere? Who told her this, and when? (no-one was there for her & no one went with her because they are all in “not good” state: Hawkeye & Scott are reunited with families, Hulk is healing, Old! Cap is just...old, Thor & guardians are far away, Nat & Tony are gone. Spidey & Rhodey & Wakandans didn’t know her.. And everyone’s a mess, grieving, too. So... that’s why she is alone, cause she really has lost everyone who is close to her... no one left...)

How much in control is Wanda...by now? Has it been all subconsious or does she understand what’s happening? She seemed to create the hex unintentionally, just as byproduct of her grief. And at first she does not seem to understand it’s not real. But just like Vision, she, too, seems to become more & more aware of what’s actually going on. At first she keeps saying she means no harm, but by episode 7 she is questioning if she maybe is the bad guy in the story. How aware is she by now? And will it be about acceptance & letting go (of the ones she’s lost)...as she takes the hex down? Cause this is about her going through the stages of grief... (so I have prepared to see Vision die...again... with big fireworks, I guess...just like Tony’s IM suit army did for IM3 christmas fireworks show...cause everything seems to point to this...it’s the most logical concusion to the story...even if I/we all wish there was another way...) Everything points to 3rd ep being the turning point.  The birth of the twins & losing some control of the illusion, mention of something from actual reality trigger her waking up from the dream. Cause while she first sensors the broadcast at the end of ep 2 already (No!), I’m not sure she’s yet aware of things yet. But throwing ot Monic...seeing herself do that...affects her. But she does not understand the full extent of it all til the very end...when she “feels the peoples pain”

Is there any meaning to Wanda playing with the fingers of her hand when she’s asking to be let in to see Vision’s body? Maybe it’s just a stim, but it almost looks as if she’s trying to play with a wedding/engagement ring that’s supposed to be on that finger/hand? 

Was it Wanda who edited the footage from the Mind Stone experiment Strucker did on her? Or was it the "Mind Stone”? Because that editing (rewinding time) looked very similar to the editing that’s happening during WandaVision broadcast. 

Is this about Wanda learning to use, control & understand her powers...just as much as it’s about her letting herself grieve? She needs to “access her powers (the yoghurt) or it’ll all turn to chaos...?  ANSWERED in 1x09: YES!

What exactly are Wanda’s powers & what do they mean? It almost seems like she’s a living form of all 6 infinity stones, channeling their energy inside her. During the Hex she’s demonstrated that she can also “rewind time” (time stone) - the editing. I’d say it’s easier to say what she can’t do than list everything that she can do.

Was Wanda actually already pregnant BEFORE creating the hex? Was the “for the children” chant also subconcious, like many other things/lines? And did she give birth to the kid(s) in the hex..or was that birth “not real” & she’s still expecting when the hex comes down? If she was before Hex, then that’d mean the twins can & do exists outside of it, too. Because it’s only been a few weeks since Scotland for her, so who knows...  Or maybe their origin is more magical (blipped back into the wrong womb...Wanda’s? Created by her...cause “she was all alone”) And since FFH showed us that the world did not seem to be in total chaos, instead recovering, then how & why will things change about 8 months from now...and things are “on pause” til then? Cause FFH takes place 8 months after WV. One thing that fits this timeline would be human pregnancy, and then the birth process creates chaos (I still think all the glitches during the twins birth were caused by Wanda...cause she lost control of details on the hex...for  bit...not agathas doing), and that’s why multiverse is “ripped open” only then, not now. #wildtheory OR...are both general public & Peter unaware of what really happened in Westview?

VISION

Which Vision will win the Vision vs Vision fight? Well, the show aansered this question already in episode with the line: “The death rate of single men is twice that of married men". This means Wanda’s Vision (Hex Vision) will win over Hayward’s Vision (White/Spectral Vision...Ultron). The question is how will Hex Vision “die”?. Cause as much as we’d all love for a Vision to survive, he can’t... for the show (and Wanda) to get closure. Will he die in battle or as the hex goes down? KINDA ANSWERED in 1x09: HexVision did win the “confrontation”, but he was also the one who “died”/Wanda said goodbye to as hex went down.

What happened to Vision’s body after the Wakanda Battle & Thanos’ snap? How & why did he end up at SWORD? [not stay in Wakanda, or go to Avengers/Tony? When did SWORD get a hold of the body? When Maria was still running the place...and Avengers “trusted” her or did Hayward somehow pull some strings after her death? Is this related to Sokovia accord, and based on them the body/vibranium belonged to the government? Cause it sounds like they had him before Tony’s death 3 weeks ago? And Hayward used that trust put on SWORD, when he got promoted & turned things around, including starting project “Cataract”] Seems like he had been there ever since the Snap, but was safe until Hayward took over. Cause no way he had time to complete the project in just few weeks since Tony’s death. So...  someone trusted SWORD at some point...before the shady Hayward took over...without anyone suspecting anything. 

How exactly is Hex Vision “alive”? Is it just Wanda’s magic...is she powering him through herself/her magic? Is it cause of the Mind Stone she “created” for him? We knew from ep 2 already that this Vision is not real real. Their stage names confirmed it - he was “Illusion”, and their act was a magic trick cause the whole hex thing was a “magic trick”. And if you reverse the roles, then this line from ep 2 tell you what Wanda did...when she broke down:  “Fear not, Glamour, for I, Illusion, wow to bring you back exactly as you are.” She brought him back (looking like) exactly as he was...even if his past memories are missing.  KINDA ANSWERED in 1x09

How real is Hex Vision? Seems he is connected to the Hex & cannot exist outside it, but it also seems that he is very real inside the hex...made of vibranium, and able to feel & connect (even if he has no memories of life before hex), and evolve, and use powers. And though Wanda wanted & tried to control him (and the kids), she doesn’t seem to be able to do so. Vision 2.0 seems to have his own “sense of self”, & free will. He seems to exist (within the hex) outside of Wanda & think/decide for himself. He’s not her puppet that she can control (like everyone else is). 

Will Hex Vision 2.0 be able to survive outside the Hex in some way & form? [eg. merging with White Vision] If they will merge the Hex Vision & the White Vision, then will he be complete [if Shuri’s downloaded data will be added] or will he remain an emty shell, rebooted & loses all his memories & humanity? Would they do a repat of the Gamora plot with Vision, where a character will have to re-learn everything to become the charcter they had become & re-create the connections she/he had already formed? Or will he die/sacrifice himself...for others...again? (especially cause this is all about Wanda having to accept her loss & grieve... for real...so in many ways he has to be dead/die...for that to fit the shows main theme)  BASICALLY ANSWERED in 1x09

Will Hex Vision live [at the end of WV]? The shows theme (Wanda needing to grieve her losses), and the FFH tribute to fallen Avengers seems to suggest that Vision has to & will die again/not survive the hex (but Cap was also listed as one of the fallen, so... who knows?). But they can still explore all those themes if he continues to exist, because Wanda has still not properly grieved her parents & brother. And since they have brought up the fact that he is a synthezoid (not regula human), and talked about being a combination of “AI” & physical body, then the idea of the two being separated & re-connected has been introduced. Based on what we know - Vision’s character traits, Wanda’s grief journey...we should expect him to sacrifice himself again...for others/to save her/others. It’s just who he is. Just like one of his sources, Tony. The only question is if he’ll survive despite trying to sacrifice himself for others to live, or not?

If VISION survives, then what form will he be/take? Will it be the White Vision (emotionless empty shell), the Hex Vision (without past memories, but otherwise same as he was before), comnibation of both when they merge (giving us the original Vision back)? Or some other form? I mean...Paul Bettany started as the voice of Tony’s AI, then he transformed into Vision, so maybe he can change “form” again? Vision has already, kinda, “died” three times... 1) by Wanda’s hands in IW, 2) by Thanos ripping out the MindStone & 3) when exiting the Hex in ep 6. And before all this, they were preparing to separate him from the stone, because MCU Vision can survive without the stone...even if he might lose some parts of himself without it... Shuri just didn’t have enough time to complete the task... (but there should be enough that there is a chance to bring him back in the future og MCU, I’d say...)

Did Wanda create both the vibranium & The Mind stone for the Hex Vision? How? Is Agatha correct & she is capable of spontaneous creation (Nexus Being)? Based on current evidence this seems to be the truth. 

Is that a real Mind Stone on Vision 2.0′s head? If so, then how & from what did Wanda create it? Or is that just a fake jewelry decoration on his forehead? We saw that an object looking like Mind Stone was the last piece she “created” when she created Hex Vision...you can see it “fly” towards the just-formed-vision, but what is it really? Did she create it...from nothing, from the “atoms” it had become? Did she “take” it from another universe? 

How & why can Hex Vision set others free of Wanda’s hex spell? Is it Wanda’s powers that were transferred to the new creation? Is it the Mind Stone? 

How & Why does hex Vision seem to have Pietro’s “quicksilver” superspeed ability? [my take: Wanda, in her greif, gave her new Vision 2.0 both her Vision’s & her brothers abilities, cause she was still grieving them both, so subconsiously she did that..or The Vision always had that ability and I/he was just not aware of it/never used it before] 

Did going through the Hex barrier change Vision 2.0, too? (like it did with Monica?) Does it affect everyone & everything that enters/exits? Did it change something within this Vision? Or did it not affect him in any such way..cause hes made of vibranium?

When did Vision buy that propery for them? Seems that he did before the events of IW. It fits his lines “what if I don’t go back”...And based on the state of the property it seems like the construction of their house/home had started before the Snap (foundation laid), but then everything was abandoned...

Does Hex Vision sleep? Cause The Vision is/was a synthezoid, so he should not need to sleep, but does he close his eyes & “kind of sleep” & does Hex Vision do the same? Because he seems to miss all the decade changes between the episodes on WV. He “wakes up” only to see that Wanda has changed things...again... In otehr words...how does he miss the moment when they move from one decade to the next? PS. The Vision doesn’t eat food, doesn’t need to sleep, don’t grow old like humans..etc..but for Wanda he cooks, “sleeps” next to her, buys a house to grow old in... #feelyourfeels

What is up with Hex Vision’s eyes? Is it just my imagination or have they changed, a bit? In some scenes they looked more “human” & less “robotic”? PS. They re-create Paul’s eyes in MCU, making them machine-like. Did they just miss doing that for some scenes on accident? Or was it changed on purpose? Or did it just seem so to me?

What was the meaning of the Dead!Vision vision that Wanda saw in ep 4? Was it just one of the ways Agatha was messing up things..trying to make Wanda “wake up” and deal with her greif? Was it Wanda losing control of the hex dream for a moment & being reminded that her “original” Vision is actually still dead...and looks like that? The Dead!Vision & Dead!Pietro moments reminded me a lot of Dead!IM/Tony moment from FFH, where Peter sees him “raise from the grave” It’s all Mysterio’s illusion, based on a script written by one of his team, but it works cause Peter is grieving his mentor, so it “feels real” to him. 

CATARACT VISION

What is the purpose of White Vision? Who/What is he/it? Ultron? White/Sooulless machine? Does he have Wanda’s Vision’s memories & all? Why was White Vision looking at his left hand, when he was rebooted [Ultron? Vision..looking for a wedding ring and/or lookig if his hand is still there cause he saw its pieces being pulled back to the hex?]  ANSWERED in 1x09

What exactly was Hayward’s/SWORD’s plan with Vision’s body? Just to rebuild & reboot him into a weapon? [that goes against the Sokovia accords & Visions living will]

Why & How is Tony’s (new element) triangular arc reactor now on White Vision’s hear in place of the Mind Stone? How did Hayward get a a hold of that?

What does it mean that the White Vision, after being powered up (rebooted) & opening his eyes first looked at his left hand? Is this supposed to be a reference to Ultron (AoU)...and he was checking out his new perfect form (Utron los his arm in AoU, so was he surprised his new body had it)? Was it Vision looking for a wedding ring (do the different Visions share data automatically & hence share memories?) or checking if his hand is still intact (not flown back to the hex as he stayed outside?)

What is “Project Cataract”? Well...cataract is an eye “disease”, which causes the eye to be look white/gray & it can cause double vision. So the name is very fitting. Hayward’s “vision” is the double, and he is white like cataract...  

Is the White Vision we see in ep 8 mid-credits scene the same Vision that we see in parts in the ep 8 flashback scene? Who is working at SWORD with Hayward? How did they manage to put him back together, add the “arc reactor” to his head & do a paint job...all within a week? Cause it’s been a week since they gave Wanda the show with the parts on the tables. Or is this a copy? Their fist copy version of him? [in a real magic trick everything is fake]  ANSWERED in 1x09

THE TWINS [Billy & Tommy] 

Are the Twins real? Who & How created them? [did they come to be through procreation and are Wanda & Vision’s offspring..somehow, or were they created in some other, more magical way? From what? When & How] AKA did they follow the comics canon or change it (how much?)?

Will the Twins survive the Hex? Can they exist outside the hex? Does it depend on whether they were created inside the hex or outside/before..or not?

Who aged up the Twins? Was it the Twins (Speed?) Based on Agnes’ comments that she & Wanda cannot control (these) kids, seems it wasn’t them. Seems it was the Twins, who did it? But did they cause the speedy pregnancy, too? Or was that..some other force?

How exactly was Billy able to hear both his dad/Vision 2.0 & Hayward (others) in episode 6, when he was inside the Hex & they were outside the Hex? What does it mean that his power extends to outside the hex, too?

Where were the Twins in episode 7? Where did Agnes hide/keep them? During those few minutes before we wee then again...”on the leash”

Will the Twins age themselves up again before the end of the series? To help their parents in the battle against the baddies? Or at the end (post credits scene, for example]?  ANSWERED in 1x09

  THE HEX 

Why television broadcast & why WandaVision? Well It’s literally Wanda’s TELEVision we’re watching. Televised Vision. #endlesswordplay 

Why hexagon(s)? Just because it’s a recurring shape in nature, etc? Or is it a reference to bees...beekeeper...Hive? Cause there is something called The Hive in MCU... And hexes & hexagons also appear in MCU a lot & the number 6 is important: Portals during space travel, inside Visions body... Also..there was 6 original Avengers & 6 infinity stones, Visions body taken into 6 parts for the show Hayward puts on for Wanda... 

How & why was the WandaVision TV show broadcast from the Hex? Seems that it was Wanda who created the hex...”unintentionally”...from her grief, and broadcast the show, but why? Or did someone else broadcast it? Why did she/someone want the outsiders to see what was happening inside?

Who created the commercials? Are they part of Wanda’s sitcom & created by her, subconciously? Or are they created by someone else? Vision (TeleVision). Or someone/something else?  Maybe the “light in the sky” news in Westview newspaper that Vision ead in one scene isn’t a reference to the SWORD camp. Maybe there is someone else there, too? Maybe this answers our question about how Dr. Strange has not yet sensed it & arrived there? Maybe these are hidden messages sent by someone else...to Wanda...to make her wake up from her dream? And they could even be changed by the hex into commercials insted of their original form? Or were they subconcious narating the story to her?

Who is pulling the strings? Is it all Wanda (Hex) & Agatha (messing things up)? Or is there more to it & someone/something else in involved in all of it? If so then who? 

Why was the town in “ruins” & the people all so “sad” & “alone” when Wanda arrived there? Is it only because of the Snap/Blip & the town had turned this way during those 5 years, or is there more? It’s definitely cause of Snap & Blip, but I do wonder if there is more to it than just that?

Why did we only see one half of each couple as Wanda drove through the city...even if SWORD identified many of them as couples (and they’ve said couples were kept together in the hex) because it seems that one person from each couple has an “accident” during the sitcom: Vision has the “gum” issue in ep 2, Mr. Hart chokes in ep 1, Dottie breaks a glass and bleeds in ep 2...?, Are some of the other sitcom characters actually dead? (and Wanda brought everyones partner back...just like she did with her own?) But then...how & why did SWORD identify several of the couples & no-one mentioned some of them being dead? Or... are the databases incomplete because of the Snap/Blip mess (we know from FFH some people used the Snap to run & hide (start a new life elsewhere)... who weren’t actually blipped...so maybe not all dead/blipped have been reported?) The lesson might be that though the people, like her, were sad & mourning, then “you should not bring back dead”, because they had already mourned them... whether their oved ones were gone gone or just blipped gone... 

Does the hex cause mutations to everyone who go through it several times? Or just people with certain X gene? Or just people, who were Blipped? [If everyone who goes through the hex gets their cells re-written, then that also includes Vision = 1x, Darcy = 1x, SWORD clowns = 1x, Beekeeper = 1x... so did they get a mutation, too?] Will all the people inside the hex get powers once the hex goes down?

Why did the “hex breached” alarms go off at just before Fietro appeared at Wanda & Visions doorstep in episode 5? Why did they go off? Who entered or exited the hex at that time? Or...was it the same alarm that was still on because Wanda exited & entered the hex? Cause we see them enter the tent after the encounter..so perhaps it was just moments ago, while a shole scene had hapened during that time in the WV freality. 

Is the purpose of the Hex just to keep Visin 2.0 alive & keep the happy dream alive OR is the purpose also to keep others outside? To protect that reality from Hayward (who wants to take him to pieces & weaponize him)? Cause in some ways this invisible energy field looks a bit similar to the dome surrounding & protecting Wakanda from outsiders. 

What will happen to Wanda, Hex!Vision, The Twins, Monica, Fietro, Agatha, the people of WestView...when the hex goes down? 

AGNES/AGATHA 

When exactly did Agatha arrive to the hex? At the moment we first saw her land putside Wanda & Visions house with that plant in episode 1? Or sooner..and she was just staying away til then?

What is Agatha’s plan? What does she want? She seems to be at awe of Wanda’s powers/creation & she also seems to be grieving, too. And she seems to want to bring someone back to life...it seems. [Ralph? Her kid(s)...cause it’s all for the children? The person for whom/because of whom she used the darkest of magic in 1693? Turn the rabbit back to the person it was before?] She sounded so hopeful when the twins told Wanda she can bring back the dead. 

Why did Agatha use the darkest of magic in 1693? What did she want to do? (was she trying to bring someone back to life? Her “soulmate”, her kid?)

Why does Agatha feed on Wandas magic? Is it just a way for her to stay alive/young? Does she need to “snak on yo magic” to survive? Or does she need others magic to remain magical herself and/or to become more powerful?  Has she learned to control her powers over time, cause in 1693 she claimed she could not yet. And she just seems to be impressed by Wanda’s powers & a bit jeaous that it’s taken her 400 years to learn simple spells, while Wanda can just randomly use hers...without even trying. 

Why & How do none of the townspeople seem to questions Agnes...if she’s a stranger, an outsider? Seems they’re comptletely under Wanda’s control, hence don’t break character & acknowledge they do not know her?

How did Agatha get into the hex? How was she able to get in? By using magic? Some other way? How did she sneak in without Wanda noticing, and chaning her, and taking control of her? How & why did Wanda not sense her arrival if she’s an outsider? If she arrived after Wanda set up the hex, then how soon after? Did she arrive before or after SWORD had set up camp outside the hex? (we first see her after the camp is up & watching the tv show, but she might’ve been inside for longer)

Who is her mother-in-law that she mentions in episode 1 as she arrives? Just a line of  or is there significance?

Who is Agatha working with/for? SWORD/Hayward? Some secret master/partner [Ralph?]? 

Whose house is Agatha living in? If she really did arrive only after sensing Wanda’s magic, and coming to the hex after it was created then who is/was Wanda’s real neighbour & what happened to them? Or did the house just happen to be empty? KINDA ANSWERED in 1x09

Is Agatha’s basement inside or outside the Hex? The aspect ratio seemed to change as Wanda went from her house to her basement...making it seem like its outside the hex, but is it? 

If Agatha arrived to this place just a week ago, then what’s up with that basement? How can Agatha’s secret LAIR in the basement exist “inside the hex”? If Agatha arrived after the hex was cerated then how & why wasn’t this basement transformed by hex creation? How was it set up - did it come with the house or did Agatha add it? And how is it unaffected by Wanda’s hex? If its outside hex (as the change in aspect ratio suggests), the how is that possible? Who created it/set it free of Wanda’s hex? Is it in another dimension or ? We’ve seen that enhanced indivuduals can use their powers inside Wanda’s hex, and she does not seem to be aware of everything going on. So...did Agatha use her magic & create the LAIR inside the hex during the days of the sitcom? 

What are the runes in the basement about? Yes, their purpose is to “protect” the space from other witches using their magic in that space, but why hexes and why these symbols...what do they mean? And did she add them in past few days or have they always been there? ETA: Oh, they’re not so much physical objects, and more like “drawing on the wall”

What is that book in the basement? (several options) The book in the basement could be one of several important books from the comics or MCU. But when hexagons are involved, and with the kowledge that “Wanda” will appear in the new Dr. Strange film, then while I do not know what book it is, it’s most likely the one missing from the wall of books inside hexagons in Dr. Strange film. ANSWERED in 1x09

How did the book get there? If Agatha brought it with her when she arrived then how & why did it not change when she entered the hex? If it was already there then whsoe is it & what does it mean? How is it there? 

Why does Wanda keep calling Agnes “a life saver”? Did she save her life/Does she think she saved her life & it’s her subconcious remembering it? Will she save her life & it was foreshadowing? 

Were all the “naughty” references about Agatha just about the coming reveal that “it was Agatha all along...who kept messing up everything”?  (Wanda called her naughty in ep 1 already, she wore pants with the word “naughty” on them in ep 6...)

Is Agnes the Villain, the Friend-in-disguise or the Neutral (therapist, guide)? Is she messing with Wanda just because she admires her & wants to learn from her (her own mom would not teach/guide her...how to control her powers)? Does she want to “feed on her magic” (to get more powerful herself)? Does she need her to help help/teach her to bring someone back to life? Is her plan to just get what she wants or to help Wanda while learning from her? Cause at first she seems to do everything she can to see what Wanda & Vision can do (show their powers). And she seems to want to kind of guide her...to help her “grieve”, to get her to “wake up” from the hex dream... but not necessarily in a  villain way...

Why is Agnes’ magic purple? Is there a connection to Power Stone? And why are her magic tricks similar to some other MCU characters (Dr. Strange, Ancient one)? Agatha taking a piece of Wandas hair (as Strange did with Thor)? The purple “portal” door to Wanda’s past memories... kinda like Strange’s portals...to other place/time... Is it just about using similar CGI or is there a connection?

What is the significance of the broach Agnes/Agatha wears all the time? The one she took from her dead mothers body. 

Why does Agatha leave the protected basement area right after she realizes who Wanda really is? She’s just found out just how powerful Wanda is, so why let her outside, where Wanda can use her powers (against her)? She should know that she has no chance against her, right? ANSWERED in 1x09

Is Agatha sincerely moved by the WandaVision moment & Vision’s quote on grief? She sheds a single tear & wipes it away. But Wanda doesn’t see her do it/is not looking at her, so this seems to be real...she seems to be genuily moved by it all,  not mocking the “scene”. 

RALPH 

Where is Ralph? Who is Ralph? Agatha keeps mentioning him...constantly, but we’ve never seen him? And no-one seems to question it...Wanda & Vision never wondered why they never saw Ralph. Does he even exist? Did Agnes/Agatha just make himup...for Wanda’s sitcom? ANSWERED in 1x09

Is this just misdirection? is this simply about the old tv/sitcom trope where a character is mentioned all the time, but never seen? If there no other “mystery” to Ralph? Or does he exist? If so...is he one of the characters weve already seen? (the rabbit, the mailman, Hayward)

THE RABBIT (SENOR SCRATCHY)

What is up with that rabbit? Who or what is it? Agatha’s son, Nichols Scratch? Or her sons old man, Senior Scratch aka her husband? Or is it a reference to “Devil” aka old scratch (hex = 6 = 666)? That does not seem to be your usual pet rabbit, because it eats bugs/birds, and it purrs. That seems to be a cat in disguise...if not something else. And Agatha talks to it, too (though people do love to talk to their pets, so maybe that part’s not important) But this is definitely not just a pet bunny. Yet...I dont know if this is Mephisto, or some other villain. Or if it’s Wong/Strange in disguise or something?

FIETRO 

Who exactly is this Pietro in the Hex? And where did he come from? Did Agatha “bring” him in from somewhere or did she just take a hold of some guy? Did she create him? Is he a Pietro from another universe? Is he just a random guy? He seems to have the superpowers Quicksilver has, but he looks different than Pietro (buried in Sokovia...with their parents, and Agatha can’t raise the dead or puppet bodies full of bulletholes, so she is just controlling some other dude) But we’ve known somethings off with him since start...even Wanda & Vision both are suspicious about the guy...since start.

Is Fietro under Agatha’s control when he sneaks up to Monica at the end of episode 7 #snoopersgonnasnoop or just snooping around on his own? Does Agatha use him as her eyes & ears at that moment AKA does she know Monica was snooping around? Or was she too busy with playing Wanda’s therapist to deal with him/other stuff?

Who brought Fietro there? Was he just another person living in WestView that Agatha controlled to get the truth out of Wanda? Did he come from outside the hex & then be taken over by Agatha? Did Wanda somehow, subconciously, bring him there/creaate him, before Agatha took over his senses? Cause we’ve seen that a lot of the things that tappen in WV are coming from Wanda’s subconcious. After she thinks of something and/or hears someone mention an idea, it becomes true. It’s like she uses the ideas she & others have to subconciuouly write the script of the next scene/ episode?

What’s the significance of Fietro’s necklace? ANSWERED in 1x09

Why did they coin the term Fietro officially on the show? I’m not into comics & I don’t care that much about merging the two (fox + marvel) universes, so it doesnt matter to me if he is the FOX universe version. But...the term Fietro can be coined from both Fake + Pietro & Fox + Pietro, so it makes me suspicious... on a show that does very little without a “hidden meaning”

DOTTIE 

What’s the deal with Dottie? Who is she - just another neighbour (like “mailman” or more?) Was Agnes’ claim that she’s the key just part of her messing tactic or is there meaning in the claim?

Is there a significance to Dotties roses being yellow (while Wanda’s flowers are red & pink & Agathas are purple...in ep 7)? 

Who is Dottie in reality? She seems to be one of the few “recurring cast members” from the WV show that Darcy & team watched who is not identified yet. How & why is she not identified yet? (is she Peter’s teachers wife...who pulled a disappearing act & made everyone think she was blipped, when she had just run off with someone else...so hence not identified yet?)

MAILMAN

Who is the mailman & whats up with him? Ep 8 seemed to answer that. He seems to be just a delivery guy... Or is he? Could he be also something more/else? Is he just one of Agnes’ eyes&ears (messengers) and hence the uniforms logo with rabbit in ep 7? Is he the “missing person”?

HAYWARD 

What’s up with Hayward? Is he just another government baddie or is there more to it? His motivation seems to be that he hates “superpowered individuals” & wants to create and use sentient weapons [he’s gotten access to Tony’s arc reactor element & Vision’s body somehow] against them. He clearly set up the whole show for some purpose... for Wanda...

Does Hayward know more than he shows? Was he just asking about Wanda’s “superhero nickname” or was he aware of SW? If so..how? And how did he know she has the power to bring Visions body back to life? Did he just hope so (and was disappointed she didn’t try when she let her see him..in that condition), cause he’s heard she is very powerful, or does he know...stuff?

Will the WhiteVision kill him aka not be controlled by his master, or will Hayward live? Cause if we take away Tony, Bruce, Jarvis, Mind Stone & everything else, then all that’s left in that lab vision is Ultron. And I'm not sure Hayward & his team can actually control him for long...he’s gonna turn on his “creators” possibly. 

What  was Hayward actually tracking inside the hex? It says “vibranium decay” on the screen next to the dot, and based on that  Darcy & others conclude that he’s tracking Vision (cause they think Wanda took Visions body), but is that true? Because of the dots location on the map & the fact that it is moving, it can only be tracking Hex Vision or Agnes/Agatha. But how? Is he actually tracking the vibranium Wanda created? Or the Mind Stone Wanda created? Or something else related to Hex Vision? Or Agatha? ANSWERED in 1x09

BEEKEEPER

What happened to the [SWORD agent turned into a] Beekeeper? Where did he go to? What happened to him? Why haven’t we seen or heard of him again? Not from Wanda, not from outsiders? Is he stuck somewhere inside the hex or was he “sent out” just like Monica was ep 3? 

THE DOG

Where did the dog come from that the twins “adopted” in ep 3? Was it Agatha’s doing, or not? If that was Agatha messing with things then since she cannot create things, she can just transform things, then what was the dog before (her rabbit?) Did Wanda somehow create it...”unknowingly”?

How exactly did the dog die? Did Agatha kill it because the dog was digging up something/someone in her yard? Did it actually accidentally eat the poisonous plant? Did she kill it to test Wanda’s power...to see if she can really bring back people from dead... Is it even dead? Cause while it seems Vision did bury the dog, then perhaps it was not a  real dog at all, but just transformed into a dog by Agatha (but then...would  it not turn back to its original form after it died? No?)?

THE MISSING PERSON 

Who is the missing person, who was/is in the witness program? Jimmy said it’s a “he”,  but perhaps that was a misdirection. Is there even a missing person or was that just a made up story (by Hayward? by someone else)...just to have a reason to set up camp next to the hex? Was the missing person "Wanda”, was it “Hex Vision” (did Hayward somehow get info that there is a “Vision” there?) Is it the person who lived in the hosue Agatha resides? Is it Ralph? Is it Wanda’s father (he survived, but it was secret? Is it someone from the MCU past (Justin Hammer from IM2; Sonny Butrch from Ant-Man? Trevor Slattery from IM3 (since we are living inside a tv show & everyone was playing roles in Wanda’s sitcom & Shakespeare was quoted; MCU Pietro...who actualy survived?)? Is it Agnes...who is actually working for SWORD and was sent in to investigate the hex, but when not returned, was named “missing”?

Why has Jimmy not mentioned him again...for days? If he’d been one of the townspeople who have been seen & identified [info sheets on the board], we’d probably heard of it, so we have to assume it’s none of the ones who are seen on the board. Or... the opposite...he has not mentioned it again, because it IS one of the identified people. He’s not mentioned it again cause he knows theyre alive & “safe”? 

Who it is definitely not? Since the events of FFH take place 8 months AFTER this WV event, then this cannot be Peter Parker & his friends, cause while he would have reason to be in witness protection after those events, they’ve not happened yet... And though this would be THE biggest shock & Mark Hamill level cameo, then since RDJ is done with MCU/Tony/IM & as much as it would be awesome, then I doubt it’s Tony, cause that sadly would make the endgame events “less meaningful” (he had to safrifice himself...otherwise the impact would not have been as strong)

MONICA 

Why exactly did Monica get powers when going through the hex? Is it because she has the X-gene? Is it cause she was blipped? Or does it happen to everyone who goes throgh the hex...several times? (or just those, who have the X gene & the hex just activates it or something)

Why exactly did Monica’s eyes turn to purple, when she opened Agatha’s cellar door/when Fietro caught her snooping? Was it cause she was put under Agathas spell? Or does it have to do with her newly activated power and it’s just her “seeing wavelenghts”? 

Why can Monica connect with Wanda & not see her as the “villain”? Because these two actually have a lot of common at that moment/time. That’s probably why she wants to help her, not attack her (even if she did not like being “mind controlled”) They both lost their loved one…twice. Wanda lost Vision twice, and then she was snapped away....only to return to Endgame battle (Tony’s funeral) and seeing Vision dismantled... Monica almost lost her mom, but then things seemed to get better…only for her to wake up from the Blip to find out she lost her mom (again). So both of these ladies have lost the last 5 years, and both lost their loved one “twice”. They both are kind of depressed, have PTSD, are grieving, don’t want to go on…both dealing with it on their own way...

WHO IS MONICA’S ENGINEER FRIEND? 

Was the lady she met the contact person or was she just the messenger? Cause Monica seemed to imply it’s a “he”, so perhaps we have not met her engineer friend yet? Is that lady just a military messanger or is she possibly a skrull (Talos daughter, the one Monica connected with as a kid?)

Will the engineer friend appear in WV or will he show up only in next MCU projects? Is he important or was there no deeper meaning there and/or was the skrull friend that contact/engineer?

WHERE ARE AVENGERS?

Where is Dr. Strange? Why hasn’t he (seemingly) arrived to WV yet? If Agatha could sense the Hex (the many spells cast all at once by Wanda) & that attracted her to this place... then how & why has Dr. Strange not sensed it? And how or why had he not arrived there yet...if he had sensed it? The others are all busy/not available, healing, not in a good place themselves... But Strange & co will most likely show up during the Finale/ep 9. OR NOT.

OTHER QUESTIONS: 

IF & how are skrulls involved? Meaningful or misdirection? I think they are involved..in a small way...

Why “all for the children”? Was that all Agatha’s doing, or was someone else behind that message? Was it actually Wanda’s doing...another subconcius things? (is it cause Wanda had been thinking of kids? Is it cause Agatha has lost a kid or something? Is it cause Wanda is actually pregnant?) Because the Harts brought up the topic during ep 1 dinner already before things hated up in ep 2. And almost everything in Wanda’s sitcom scripts is coming from her subconcious - they’re adapted from the events of her life & things other characters mention within the WV show... her subconcious makes random lines come true in next scenes/episode.  ANSWERED...KINDA in 1x09

Where were all the children in earlier episodes? Were they just inside, in their beds, like Fietro suggested (through Agatha), or is there more to this? And where did they all just appear in epsiode 6 (cause we’ve seen lots of them around lately...among other “background cast” just doing their everyday things...).  ANSWERED in 1x09

Who is the missing kid on the milk carton? Just random kid or is it the actual missing person Jimmy was looking for? Is it Agatha’s kid or someone elses kid?  

Why has SNAP being mentioned several times on the show? Spoken, in written (signs)? Agnes used the word “snap” in a sentence in ep 1, the cereal in ep 6 was called Sugar Snaps. One of the billboards had the word snap on it after Wanda created the hex. Agatha snapped her fingers as she dissapeared from the audience seats after the illusion came down in ep 8... Are all the SNAP references about Wanda snapping (“going crazy”) or a reference to the (Thanos) Snap? Or both?

What are all the metions of “NIGHTMARE” (and bad dreams) about? Misdirection or subtle hints at Nightmare being behind this/introduced to MCU? Whose dream is this (all)? 

What is up with mentions of “mischief” & “shenanigans” in the epsiodes. Just random or more meaningful actually? I personally do not think that this means Loki is invlved or coming, but...never say never. 

What’s up with Ultron being mentioned several times already? Meaningful or misdirection? Is the White Vision gonna be voiced by the man, who voiced Ultron (J.S.)? Is White Vision gonna be Ultron (will other parts that made Vision Vision be gone, and only Ultron remain)? Or will the emoty shell turn into Ultron while entering the hex, because the hex changes non-living objects into a more era-appropriate forms (and not so long ago that body was supposed to be Ultron’s vessel) Is Ultron somehow behind this/part of Haywards plan? 

What do the dates on the calendar mean? Is there any significance to the dates? Are they just Inside jokes (like one licence plate being Stan Lee’s birth date), or is there a meaning behind them? In ep 1 the heart is drawn on the date Wednesday, August 23rd. In the opening credits of episode 7 the heart is drawn on Friday the 10th (no month visible). The events of WV are supposed to take place in 2023....though for Wanda it may still feel like five years sooner in 2018... We do know that there is a Wed, Aug 23rd in 2023 & there are three Friday the 10th in 2023: Feb, March, Nov. But why these dates/numbers? Is it a significant date for Wanda an/or Vision? Did they secretly get engaged? (I’d say that I don’t think they were married, but perhaps they had set a wedding date or something? Cause they seemed pretty serious just at the start of IW) Or is it about a secret 10th episode? (Cause the nexus meds had 10.3%, so it might not be random...nothing seems to be on this show...though I’d sy the 10th episode is the “making of” special, nothing more...) Or just random numbers & only the heart had meaning?

What is the meaning of the colour of the flowers in the gardens in ep 7? Wanda’s are red & pink. Agnes’ are purple. Dottie’s (roses) are yellow. We know that first two match the colour of their power. What about the third one? Is she a “witch”, too?

Who “froze” those people in the outskirts of the town, close to hex in episode 6? Wanda (who can’t keep the simulation running smootly, everywhere), or Agatha (to make Vision want to find answers even more)? It does seem like this is all Wanda’s doing...meaning she doesn’t have enough power to keep everything inside the hex running smoothly at the same time, so the characters closer to the edge are more like actual puppets...barely moving.

How do Monica, Jimmy & Darcy know so much about the events of Avengers 3-4? Sure, they work for government, are not completely random citizens, but they seem to have watched the events like from a  video feed or something, cause they seem to know a lot about the details that went on… just mere weeks after the events. How?

How long had the hex been up before Jimmy & Monica arrived & Monica got  sucked in? How long before SWORD arrived & Darcy discovered the broadcast? Hours? Days? What happened in the hex before the show started broadcasting? Because after creating it we see Vision welcome her home & they watch TV, but teh show starts with them driving to WV...before entering their new home, so...did the show start only “the next day”?

Was the “hex has been breached” alarm going off at the end of episode 3 about Pietro arriving to the Hex (meaning he came from outside) or did someone enter/exit the hex & we’ve not been made aware of the person just yet?

Why were Wanda, Pietro & her parents all practicing/learning English? Did the family have a plan to escape to “west”? A view to the west? Or did the parents know more than we’ve led to believe so far, and they were slowly training their kids for their future? Were they actually “adopted”? Did they learn it for some other reason? My best guess is that they were planning to flee to west (US or somewhere)

Why did the family not flee from the war-zone? Her mother saw what was going on outside, but instead she/they used escapism...denial...and watched sitcoms...to distract themselves from the horrors of reality outside. OR were they just “giving up”, cause “there was no escaping...from that place”? And how & where was the dad sellling those dvd-s, when there is literal war (combat) right outside their home? Another example of trauma causing memories to be “tweaked”?

What was up with the secret “safe” in the wall, behind the rug on the wall in their Sokovin apartment? Wanda’s dad kept her fave thing/dvd set in there? Special place..for safekeeping. Is there more to that? “I put it in the special place. For extra safekeeping.” Is this a reference to some object Wanda (or someone close to her, like Vision) had hidden somewhere...to protect it?

What’s in the box? Which box are we talking about? The “mystery of cabinets” box? The red Nike shoe box in the secret hiding place in Wanda’s Sokovian home? The boxes the “mailman” is deloivering in ep 7? Some other box (maybe the envelope was not the only thing Vision let her/among his things that she now has)?

Where was/is the CMBR that Darcy detected from the hex coming from? Is it Wanda? Is it the Mind Stone she created? Is it something or someone else? Had it always been there in WestView or did the Hex event somehow create it? Where is it coming from? What gives off so much of it in there? Is it Wanda’s Chaos magic? Is it the “secret villain” behind Agatha?

Which way did the police car drive after Jimmy & Monica finished questioning them in ep 4? Towards the town (and into the hex) or turned around & drove away from the town & hex?

Why is JImmy's car parked by the roadside right next to the edge of the hex when she & Monica first meet outside WV? And its nose pointed away from the town, not towards the town? Because this has to be Jimmy's (rental) car, not some random abandoned vehicle. How & why did he get so close to the hex & parked his car there? And why is it pointed in the direction away from the town? What is up with the car on the roadside? (seems he was heading towards the twon, but turned around before hex & parked car right there?)

Who is the secret big cameo the cast has been teasing? Is it Paul Bettany AKA one of the best jokes (that he’s acting against himself... playing two roles at once...Hex Vision & White Vision...) Or is there an actual, different cameo happening besides this? Cause we know that Vision VS Vision is happening. Even if there is an actual cameo, I’m just gonna pretend he was talking about Vision Vs Vision, because this is the kind of cheeky british humour that I love. Cameo ideas: a character from one of her favourite sitcom steps from TV into reality DvD?, “Nick Fury”? RDJ as Tony?, Stan Lee? “Dr. Strange”? “Wolverine”? a big name actor as a character from comics...introduced to MCU? For me “Skywalker” level cameo indicates...not (just) a big name actor, but... lots of CGI, so...  ANSWERED in 1x09

THE QUESTIONS THAT HAVE BEEN ANSWERED: 

Why Westview, NJ? No, its not because it’s relatively close to the Avengers “headquarters” (and the set of the Endgame battle) or relatively  close is it to the site where the military base was (where Cap & Tony went during time heist)...all in NJ? It’s because this was supposed to be their home. This is where Vision wanted them to settle down & grow old in. Also.. WestView = WV & wesTView = TV

Why sitcoms? Because sitcoms have been Wanda’s escape since childhood. She watched them in Sokovia with her parents & brother (family), she watched them in US/Avengers HQ (with her to-be-family, Vision). Her distraction from the horrorrs & sadness of reality. Also..because unlike in real world in the sitcom world people getting hurt (when something fall of them) don’t actually get hurt, because..it’s not that kid of a “world”....

Why different eras of sitcoms? Because...Vision wanted them to grow old together. Live a life together. She is literally living through the plan Vision had for them. Settle down in WestView, and live a “normal life” together... That’s why she did not remain stuck in her one favourite Dick can Dyke episode, but instead moved to the next decade...the next phase of their lives together: move to WV, build/buy a home together, get married, watch TV together, have kids, raise kids... go through ps & downs of marriage/relationship,...grow old together... [only her fantasy world started to crumble half-way through] Though...if we think about it... to their knowledge Wanda was human & Vision was a “machine”, so he would not age like she does, so he would have probably just “deactivated” himself after she died in a 100 years...

What made Wanda do this...even if unintentionally? Her greif...over her parents, her brother, Vision, & everyone else she’s lost... the “missing five years”: seeing Hayward dismantle Vision’s body... and seeing the aftermath of the Snap & Blip as she drove through this town. She seemed to see herself in the state of that town & those people...as she drove through WV and saw the future cast of her sitcom. The world for WV had been turned upside down, and in her grief she created the happy place for herself and the people she saw. Her intentions were good/not evil....she thought that this would cheer her & this town up. She “restored” WV to it’s pre-snap glory (the abandoned pool turns into nice one at Dottie’s backyard...), and gave everyone a purpose (job, tasks) or someone to be with. Sitcoms made her feel better, so she thought it’d happen for her & the others in this fake world, too. It was all unintentional & subconcoius, and as she keeps saying “she did not mean any harm”. Initially she didn’t even realize what she’d done, but slowly she has started to “wake up” & realize the situation (that’s why lately she’s thinking “what if I am the villain?” insted of trying to tell the “cast” that she meant no harm to anyone.) 

What does the heart on the calendar mean? Episode 8 told us the meaning of the heart. The calendar used to be the propery deed. And Vision had drawn a heart on it (to where their jome was gonna be) & added “to grown old in” - V. That’s why they say "Who needs to  abbreviate?” in ep 1. 

What was the noise all about in ep 2 that scared Wanda & Vision? Those were the drones that SWORD was sending into the hex. Those made the noise. And one of them (either a SWORD one, or Monica’s drone) made it to Wanda’s rosebushes. 

Where were Vision & Monica + Fietro during ep 8 events? They were on their way towards the center of the hex. Cause the whole “look into the past” took place...in mere seconds...just like a dream (seems like a whole day/film, but IRL almost no time goes by). The Monica + Fietro snooping & the Vision-flies back all happened at the same time as Wanda’s trip down to memory lane. They didn’t happen before, just simultaneously... They will arrive soon. [the question is: will Darcy also reach the town center & will she be able to help somehow]

Why were the films that were running in the Cinema in ep 6 “The Parent Trap” & “The Incredibles”? Because The Incredibles is an animation about a superhero family (mom, dad, kids), who fight the bad guys. And Parent Trap is about twins (Billy & Tommy, Wanda & Pietro). They were about Wanda’s life at the moment/time.  

Why were the films that were running in in the Cinema after Wanda’s hex took over the town “Big Red” & “Kidnapped”? Because, once again, they described the situation then. Wanda & her hex were the big red taking over...in a way “kidnapping” everyone and using them as puppets for the show based on her script. 

Was that really Agatha’s real/actual mother...as the “head witch”? Yes, cause she calls her mother & the actress is listed as Evanora Harkness. It’s not just a title for the leader wicth, but it’s her actual mother. 

What does the Nexus mean? It could be & probably has several meanings. As suggested, Wanda seems to be a Nexus Being (she is the same in all realities & has access to the whole multiverse...). Nexus of lal realities is in MCU (Thor: TDW) is the gateway to other dimensions. But also... Nexus Internet Hub (in Oso) is the  name of the place Tony goes to when looking for answers about Jarvis & Ultron (in AoU)

What were the commercial about? They were all references to the traumatic and/or important moments in Wandas life. Toaster = Stark bomb, Hydra Soap = Mind stone experiment, Lagos paper towels = Lagos incident, Nexus pills = Nexus Being. But each commercial has many layers, and each can also be connected to an infinity stone..in a way. And each has also other meanings. DETAILED EXPLANATION WILL BE ADDED HERE 

Why do the powers start to manifest, in big way, first a are 10? Happened with Wanda, happened with the Twins. Well, because Ten = X [in roman numerals] = X-gene. This ties into the marvel mythology about mutants & x-gene, and also, maybe, in a way roman = romani (cause while they did not copy that part of her origins story in MCU, maybe this was a nod to the SW origins? btw, I do not wants or need my tv/films to follow the original material, cause one can adapt the story to fit their own narrative. Otherwise... I’d never seen Lucy Liu as Watson, especially for comics, when things are “retconned” often...) 

Why does it never rain in WV? The weather report on TV in ep 6 said that it’s sunny all week, but we saw that on the outskirts of the town there were puddles on the road & Vision & Darcy drove through rain...so it actually does rain...there...just not at the center of the hex/town. And we’ve seen that the conditions are different inside & outside the hex: it can be daytime in the hex & nighttime outside the hex...at the same time. Perhaps it never rains also because the last day Wanda & Vision spent together in Scotland was a rainy one...

There’s more, but I got tired... and I didn’t post it on the weekend, but I dont want to delay the posting anymore, so posting it as it is...now...

THE END

[starlightshadowsworld]

So it's no secret im critical of RWBY, I am with most things I enjoy. But the keyword of that is "enjoy", I love RWBY, have since I first discovered it and I wanted to talk about the things I love about it.

The Characters

You can write the most fantastic plot on the world but it means nothing if you don't have good characters. Since the beginning RWBY has been about its characters, it's even named after them. And we're introduced to these 4 girls all with hopes and dreams and watching them reach them.

And watching them grow throughout the course of the show is both heartwarming and heart breaking.

When these discussions come up everyone brings up. Weiss, which is fair she's had the most significant change (and shes a queen). She goes from stuck up princess to a warmer person. I love that she remembers the lessons she learned, Volume 1 or even Volume 2 Weiss wouldn't be the one comforting Yang in Volume 5. She might try but I feel like it would come across as insincere or lack the weight it did if Ruby was in her place.

This Weiss knows the pain Yang's going through, and the first thing that comes to her is to be there for her.

But hese two have never been very close. They've taunted and laughed and fought for each other and for me this is when Nice Weiss was just the new natural Weiss. But without losing what makes Weiss, Weiss.

But it's also the little things. Weiss defending Blake against Cordovin, Blake wrapping Weiss in a blanket when she's scared. Ruby being awe and supporting her team. The train scene to Argus felt like we were back in Beacon, Blake reading her book, Weiss is rolling her eyes but going along with Ruby and Yang and Ruby are fighting over who's winning a video game.

And its not limited to them, seeing Qrow being a badass and reluctant parent is always a fun time. And his alcoholism being explored was interesting and I didn't think we'd end up there. (It really puts Ruby into perspective, trying to be strong and happy for everyone with the stance of a leader. Ruby is a leader, that question was undoubtly answered.

Seeing Jaune, this goofy coward with a big heart go at Cinder because of Pyrrah's death... That hurt... That hurt a lot. And I may argue about the Statue scene but I hope he gets closure. (And stays away from those thirsty Mantle mums)

Ozpin's and Ironwoods downward spirals and reveals were beautifully done. It really felt like their Oz counterparts, going from the all knowing wizard to the man behind the curtain and the tin man losing his heart. You see just how much Ozpin cared for others, how his actions hurt many but have always been built on good intentions and just how human he is.

You see just how resilient and strong Ironwood is, how he's misguided but he will do whatever it takes. Really hit the theme of fear, especially with Ozpin's speech at the end.

The Music

Only gets better and better honestly. Casey you are awesome, the music is something I can never be prepared for. Until the End still makes me bawl like a baby everytime I hear it and they just reflect each and every scene, character and fight their placed in. The music in RWBY can feel as instrumental (see what I did there 🙃) to the show as the plot. Their intertwined, both telling these great stories. And they absolutely hold up, personally I love Weiss's songs and This will be the day and if that plays during the final battle I will scream.

They don't just hype up scenes, they add to them. I know ya'll were crying when Forever Fall started playing as the leaves hit the ground and Pyrrah's statue was revealed (... Not that I did.) And I'm already wondering about the songs for V8.

The writing and the Plot

Because despite some of the issues and criticism, it is good. I don't think we'd still be watching if we didn't believe that. Ironwood and Ozpin are my go to for awesome writing but their not the only instances of it. Yang and Ruby being reunited, Ruby instantly apologising and rambling and Yang giving her a big hug before bringing in Weiss, that was awesome.

Instantly we have Ruby, who up until now has been a leader crumble. In that moment she's Yang's little sister and Weiss is her best friend, nothing cemented that more for me that than moment after they've been apart for so long.

Ozpin's Backstory was long awaited and personally I loved it. You have two people, made us understand how much they loved each other and how their differing views changed the world and lead to the stare of remnant today. Do I prefer my headcannon? Of course I do, but that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy this any less.

Tai, Port and Oobleck talking with Yang, we needed that joy and she needed it too. It just felt real... You have these teachers and mentors who've seen war and destruction and they try to make her laugh. And I wish we could've seen more of that.

And the fact it keeps making us and them question things. Was it wrong for Ozpin to lie? Was it wrong for Raven for leave? Are we doing the right thing by going to Atlas? Should we tell Ironwood the truth? Should Ozpin have told Salem? Should Robin be trusted? Should Zwei be integral to the plot? The fact that they can do this, lay the consequences for what happened and still make us debate on the outcomes and the what ifs is impressive. (Although the Zwei one is fact)

Symbolism

Here's a few I found because I am a sucker for it and yes I know they may not all be intentional:

Both Yang and Adam have similar semblances. Except, Yangs takes time over a fight to build up, reflecting her thrill of a fight and how she likes to take risks. While Adam charges his into huge and constant attacks, showing his desire and eagerness to hurt others. Making them somewhat parallel the other, how they are quite alike in attitudes but not heart which is why Blake chooses Yang.

Ozpin having the relic of choice under Beacon because he values it so much, he makes sure everyone has one before they join him, before Pyyrah became the maiden. How one choice changed everything for him.

The White Fang wear Grimm masks, how they became more about spreading fear and they became more like monsters.

Ironwood having the relic of creation, the focus of innovation and robotics that's so prevalent in Atlas and how its energy was used to raise the city above the rest.

Ozpin being associated with gears and clocks.

Qrow and Raven's names mirroring their bird forms. But also because crows are seen as symbols of misfortune and Raven's are symbols of insight and prophecy.

Every Wizard of Oz and fairytale reference. There are too many to name so here's a few: Pinnochio being eaten by a Whale (giant whale grimmm and our protector of mantle), Tock is a crocodile Faunus who's semblance was dictated by a ticking clock, Ozpin glynda and Ironwood are Oz the good witch and tinman. Salem has flying gorilla grimm.

(side note for V8, from the trailer it seems Salem is looking for someone. She represents the Wicked witch, has her flying grimm.. And its been said Oscar represents Dorothy so get the missing posters ready)

Pyyrah being the one to unlock Jaune's aura and the idea of losing someone the way he lost her is what unlocks his semblance.

And that's all. Im well aware RWBY isn't a masterpiece and that it's not awful either. I love it for what it is.

[unstoppableforcce]

a fragile alliance

no request- just something i had, poe with a first order ! reader.

Poe Dameron x reader !

this is something I wrote a very long time ago, so no TROS spoilers but def more to come if y’all want. it’s angst. it’s pure angst. bc I excell at that.

“Black leader, you see that?” A voice came over on the crackling radio in his ear. And he did. How could he miss it?

The small black single rider plane that every resistance member was told to watch out for, the one containing one of the most feared members of the First Order, you, plummeting to the surface of the small jungle planet. If they could take you out, it would be the biggest leg up on the first order they’d have in while. A sense of pride even surged within the Commander, you had a lengthy history with the First Order, leaving a trail of bodies in your wake. But the voice in his ear said differently.

“Commander Dameron, you are to take a unit to the surface of Bluscant, search for the remains of that ship, take any survivors into custody for interrogation.” The orders were orders, but he despised them. 

They deserved to be left to suffer. He shot you down, he thought you deserved to stay there. 

“Yes, sir,” Dameron responded before ordering his men to the surface with him.

They parked outside the jungle, watching as the smoke from the crash raised higher into the sky. Poe order two men to stay at the ship and another two to follow him, all the way until they reached the crash site.

It was a short hike to get there from the clearing where they parked, but soon they saw the crashed plane. The whole thing was on fire and he hoped you were inside. He didn’t normally see such red but he couldn’t escape it now. 

He wasn’t that lucky, however. While the ship burned plumes of smoke, he spotted a stormtrooper body laying just outside the wreck. 

You were laying up against the side of the crater, hand gripping your side to keep your insides where they belonged given the significant wound that sliced you. Another gash about your forehead, spilling blood down your face. Yet you managed to keep a strong grip on your blaster with your free hand, unconscious but holding tight. 

All of the movement around was all it took to wake you, barely shaking you from your blurry consciousness, but enough for you to feebly attempt to lift your blaster in defense. You barely got it a centimeter off the ground before groaning, a violent stream of pain shooting through you. He kicked it from your hand before you had the opportunity to try again. 

“Base wants us to bring back survivors.” His Lieutenant quickly reminded him. And he very clearly needed him to remember. Because all Poe wanted to do was leave you stranded to die.

“Yeah. Patch her up, and cuff her.” He ordered while rubbing over his face.

“Are cuffs really necessary?” The other man questioned as he kneeled next to you, pressing two fingers to your throat for a pulse, faint but there. 

“She’s got a kill count in the thousands. I wouldn’t take my chances.” Poe argued, crossing his arms over his chest. It may have been an overstatement, but it certainly didn’t feel like it.

The number of reports he had read with her name on the cover. 

“283-3” You muttered out groggily, catching his attention briefly. 

“What?” He questioned, stepping closer but not getting in the way of his two counterparts who were patching you up for the trip home.

“Is he dead?” You finally murmured with enough strength to be heard. Poe could only assume you were referring to your stormtrooper, the one nearest the crash. The dead one. 

“Yeah.” 

Your eyes clenched with pain through the entire procedure, but something in your disposition changed as you hear the news. Slightly more distressed, and he couldn't figure out why.

“I tried- I” The lieutenant administered the sedative, trying to avoid the shock of pain killing you before they could get you back. But he knew what you were trying for. You were trying to say that you tried to save him. He couldn't decide whether it was notable or not given the record she had. The pain in his heart ultimately told him it wasn’t.

“Will she make it back to base?” Poe questioned, kneeling next to them as they pressed the bacta patch to your stomach and wiped the blood from your face.

“If she’s lucky.” One responded and Poe had to hold back a staunch laugh in response.

“We should just kill her,” He shook his head and pulled away, leaving them to carry her back. There wasn’t much in the way of bloody vengeance in his soul, just enough for you.

When they landed back on base, you were taken to the med bay much to Poe’s dismay. He knew who you were. A commander, like himself. Specialized in hand to hand combat, a spy, but not lost around a tie fighter. You surely ordered the deaths of thousands of men and probably killed hundreds with your own hands, or at least that was what it felt like from where he was standing. And Poe was ordered to rescue you so they could gain any intelligence from you. It was probably useless, no way you would give anything up but they’d try, keep you alive for months longer than you deserved.

He left his debrief and headed straight to the medical center, knowing you would be in there, and if you were awake, he needed to talk to you, he needed closure. 

Even if Leia ordered him to get some rest, that she’d send someone to interrogate her in a little bit.

The nurse pointed him to your room without him even having to ask, they all knew.

And when he walked into the room, he was prepared to get what he needed and then kill you, no matter the consequences. Leia could demote him, hell, she could kick him out of the resistance, but if he got this closure, it would all be worth it.

It had to be.

Yet you laid there so innocently. The nurses had cleaned the dirt and grime from your face and hair, the cut above your eye had been healed, and you even looked comfortable under the plush blanket. Even if your hands were cuffed to the bed.

His fingers twitched at his side, aching to grab his blaster and just end it all now but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He needed you to admit to it. He wasn’t a killer, but he would do what’s just, it’s what you deserve. So he called a nurse back in and ordered her to wake you up, and without any objections, she did. They all knew, and not a single one disagreed. 

Minutes later, your eyes fluttered open so peacefully and he couldn’t stand to watch it, he had to turn away briefly to compose himself. Until you began groaning. Your breath was caught in your throat, preventing a scream in pain. Hands clenched into tight fists, nails digging into your palms, the pain overtaking you all at once. It seemed like the doctors were just as bitter as he was.

But then something in your disposition shifted, you began to laugh instead of scream, and your hands released. Heavy breathing took over now as your eyes quickly scanned the room, frantic almost, and as they landed on him, you finally began to understand.

“Long time, Captain.” You squeezed out. The chuckle was rough as it escaped your lips, eyes squeezing shut as your head leaned back against the pillow.  

“Its Commander now.” He choked out, hands clenching, heart pounding.

His blaster was right there.

“Congrats.” It was almost a genuine smile, but it distorted to a smirk as you locked your eyes back with his. 

“Don’t congratulate me, I should kill you.” He added, taking a few steps towards closer until his thighs hit the foot of the bed.

“Do it. You won’t.” You scoffed, “you wouldn’t dare disobey an order, and I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be here.”

“After everything you’ve done-“

“I deserve to suffer. I deserve to be tortured. I deserve your worst. I don’t deserve to die and you know that, the resistance wouldn’t let me off that easy.” You argued back easily, even if your chest was still heaving with every breath. He couldn't deny that he was watching it, a part of him hoping it would stop.

Tears brimmed at his eyes no matter how hard he fought to keep them down. “I don’t care about the resistance.” 

“Then what are you here for?”

“You killed Finn.” He choked out, not in control of his emotions any longer. He rounded the bed, took two more steps forward, and began pointing in your face as he seethed, “You killed him.”

But your face didn’t twist to that of a proud First Order Commander who would relish in a successful kill. It twisted into confusion, pure confusion. Brows furrowing and head quirking slightly to the side, only serving to raise the heat in his chest. 

“FN- 2187?” You asked, trying to sit up despite the pain flooding your body and warning you against it. 

“You killed him, I watched it.”

“I didn’t kill him.” It was a plead, genuine concern in your eyes that he couldn't understand. You were fighting against the restraints, leaning into his now shaking finger of accusation. 

“I saw you do it, the whole galaxy saw it.”

“I didn’t kill him. Dameron, I have killed a lot of people, I didn’t kill him.” You shouted back with the same volume he used, defensive, truly defensive. 

“The first order broadcasted his execution across the whole galaxy, do you think I’m an idiot, I watched you kill him.” He shouted but pulled back when he watched you flinch. 

You couldn’t form a sentence fast enough, not by the time the curtains behind him ripped open and two soldiers grabbed him by the arm and pulled him fighting from the room. He needed closure, he needed an answer. He would fight but they only pulled him farther back. 

“He’s alive.” The words left your lips just as the curtains fell shut between the two of you. He wanted to hear more, to see more-

And soon he was tossed to the ground on his knees in front of Leia herself. 

“I told you to go get rest, that I’d send an interrogator in.” She said but he wasn’t there. His body was physically on the floor but his mind was elsewhere, he was replaying Finn’s death over and over again in his head.

He saw the alert go out that the first order had a special broadcast, and when the image flashed up in the command center, he just about collapsed on the floor. Finn, on his knees, surrounded by stormtroopers and officers. In front of him stood Kylo Ren, General Hux and You. Dressed in all black, not completely covered like Ren and Hux were, but somehow just as intimidating. Your hair pulled back so he could see your face painfully clear. An image that haunted him at night.

And then Hux said, “No traitor shall go unpunished...” and continued on into a vehement hate-speech about the First Order’s dominance in the galaxy. But Poe only stared at Finn. He was forced on his knees, hands behind his back, still wearing the jacket he gave him. He tried to stay strong, to not let them win, but he was scared, Poe could see it. And as soon as his speech ended, she was ordered to execute the “bloody traitor.”

Stepping forward, you pulled a large electrically surging sword from your holster, and within seconds, you spun and his head hit the ground.

Poe screamed, a raw, guttural scream as he saw it happen, and none of the officers around him cared because they saw the pain, they felt the pain. And Finn, who they all regarded as a hero, was brutally murdered by you, a nightmare-like extension of the first order.

And now you were saying you didn’t kill him when he saw you do it. And now you were saying he was alive when he saw his head off his body.

“... Poe. She’s messing with you. She knows that she can target your emotions and you’re just giving her power over you.” Leia soothed but Poe hardly heard it. What did you mean he was still alive.

“What if he’s alive?”

“He’s not Poe, we watched it happen.”

“She said he’s alive.”

“She’s a First Order member, she is trained to deceive you, to mess with you, she is the enemy Poe, she just wants to get you off your game,” Leia explained but Poe couldn’t pay attention to her, too lost in his own thoughts.

“If he’s alive, I need to find him.”

“He’s not alive Poe, we both know that,” Leia finalized as he finally rose to his feet. “She’s lying to get a rise out of you.”

“She seemed genuine.”

“She’s a spy.”

“If he’s alive-“

“He can’t be Poe,” Leia said exhaustedly before ordering Poe to be sent to his room, he was too out of it to protest at this point and just complied.

But if it was true, how could he ignore it.

Leia couldn’t keep him away.

Over the next two weeks, you began to heal up and Leia began to send in interrogators but you merely mocked them. They didn’t need to torture you, Leia knew it wouldn’t work, you weren’t going to break like that, so she just tried getting information from you in regular conversation. Still, no avail. 

You wouldn’t give up anything useful, besides who did Hux’s laundry.

A stormtrooper, called AT- 8745. He read it in a report.

Poe knew you weren’t going to give anything useful.

But you had been willing to talk about Finn last time he tried. And no matter what the general said, he needed to try again.

He got a few looks as he snuck into the holding cells but people thought he was meant to be there, so they never said anything about it.

He typed in the code with shaking hands, not nervous but surging with the adrenaline that knowing he was going against orders that the General gave him. The door was heavy but he pushed it open quickly, too eager to hesitate.

You laid out on the bed, well not a bed but a metallic slab with no blanket or pillow, across the room from the door. One knee bent up and both hands beneath your head, staring at the ceiling, you almost looked dead given how you barely moved. A single chair sat in the middle of the room, too close, he thought, to your bed for the council to have allowed Leia to interrogate you from.

But he spotted the glimmer of the forcefield in between the two halves of the room, keeping them separate.

You didn’t look up upon hearing him enter, not moving besides adjusting briefly to lay a hand over your stomach defensively.

“I expected you eventually, figured that Leia had finally run out of options.” You noted from the bed, knowing it was him without seeing him. He didn’t waste any time being impressed. 

“She doesn’t know I’m here.”

That got your attention. You turned towards where he stood by the wall, no different than the last time you saw him, if anything, he only looked more exhausted. 

You groaned, pain rushing through you as you sat up on the bed but he made no move to sit down, he just hovered by the door.

“Why are you here?”

“You know why.”

“He is alive, I have no reason to lie to you about that.” You argued, walking towards the barrier, but stopping right in front of it. He wondered how many times you walked into it before realizing it was there, he could tell it was at least once given the hesitancy you took towards it. 

“Explain why.”

“He could be reprogrammed and valuable, but in order to get you to stop investigating, Hux needed you to think him dead.” It wasn’t curiosity or even a fascination, but you lifted one hand to the barrier and played along the light blue glow that radiated as you got close. It almost felt like boredom, and it pissed him off. “Drop the barrier and I’ll tell you more.”

He considered it for a second longer than he should have. It should have been a quick no but it wasn’t. But it also wasn’t a yes, he just backed away from the panel and to the barrier so that he could stand face to face with you. 

“Where is he now?”

“Drop the barrier.”

“If I do, you’ll escape, and won’t tell me what I need to know.”

“I also won’t tell you what you need to know with it up.”

He walked back over to the control panel on the wall and opened the door, pulling his blaster from the holster and dropping it outside. Then he locked the door shut, using his handprint to secure it. Only after all of that, did he make a move to lower the barrier.

Everything within him told him not to, but he needed to know. You were injured and manipulative and he needed to know. 

You didn’t charge at him like he expected. He didn’t have any weapons on him anymore so he wasn’t too worried about being overtaken and immediately killed, but he couldn’t trust you, not for a second.

“He’s in the reprogramming plant on Plutarch.”

“Plutarch?”

“A moon in the Ghevner circuit. Kylo Ren took control of it for the first order several years ago. Since then, it’s become a brainwashing stormtrooper factory.” You explained, now walking towards him, hesitantly as you passed where the barrier had been, but faster once you cleared it. 

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

“Armitage. He made me into a liar when he broadcasted that clip. I’m not a liar.” There was almost a playfulness to your voice, it set him on edge in a way he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. 

“Just a murderer?” He tipped his chin, but you didn’t seem all that offended. 

“No one’s perfect.” The joke came out deadpan as you stopped just in front of him, your serious face never changing now that it was on. “Look, from what I’ve heard, he’s been resisting reprogramming, if you could get to him, you’d have a good chance of getting him back.”

He didn’t understand, he felt a tug on his heartstring and he didn’t understand. 

“Why are you telling me all this?”

You scoffed, the sensation crackling through your body as you shrugged. “You think so little of me.”

“You’ve given me reasons.”

“They pay me better than you guys would. That’s all it is. I do dirty work, sure, but if you paid more, I’d do that dirty work for you. It’s not about morality for me, sorry.” You sighed, hands folding in front of you. 

“So you’re a murderer in it for the money but a good person?”

“I think the question you should be asking is why would I want the barrier down if I planned to tell you everything anyway?” You added. It was just ominous to push him over the edge, but you were faster. 

One elbow, straight to the face and he was on the ground in a second. Not unconscious, head stinging with pain, but still barely conscious against the cold concrete. 

“Now you’re going to get me out of here.”

[shadowsof-thenight]

Flashlight: Twenty-one

Story summary: This is an AU Two years ago, the love of your life walked out the door, breaking your heart into a million pieces. He had been unable to deal with his ptsd and you hadn’t been able to help him.Now that your best friend is marrying his friend, he’s coming back to town and you try to brace yourself for the reunion. Will you finally get closure?

Ship: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Warnings: Angst and sadness.

Words: 4150 *** A/N: Life is crazy but I have finally been able to write a little more lately. Hopefully I can post more chapters for this and my other stories soon.

As always a huge thank you to my wonderful beta, @gnomewithalaptop​, for helping me! Feedback in any way, shape or form is greatly appreciated! *** Masterlist                                              Story Masterlist ***

The silence stretched for several long minutes, while you glanced around the elevator and masterfully avoided Bucky’s gaze. You could feel his eyes on you, but you weren’t ready to address him—too many emotions were battling for dominance inside of you. You had to decide which to allow first, and as it was, fear of plummeting to a premature death took priority. 
The lights flickered a few times before they gave out completely, bathing the small space in total darkness. Thankfully, the complete darkness gave way for a low red emergency light. Though it gave the scene an ominous glow, it was good to see something. And had you been stuck with anyone else, you might’ve even cracked a joke. As it was, you weren’t in the mood to joke around with Bucky.

You turned around and faced the wall, leaning heavily on the bar attached to it. Sighing, you glanced at your hands as they clenched and unclenched around the bar, hoping that focussing would distract you from the fear that had been rapidly spreading inside of you. Behind you, Bucky sighed and moved around the elevator. Curious, you glanced over your shoulder and found him pushing the emergency button repeatedly while grumbling under his breath. Even if you couldn’t hear the words, you knew he was irritated by your avoidance. 
Taking a deep breath in, you knew you couldn’t keep it up for long. The tension was thick enough already, and eventually you’d have to break the silence anyway. Who knew how long you’d be stuck here.

“This is just great,” you whispered, defeated, and you turned, leaning against the wall and sliding down to sit on the floor. This really wasn’t how you had wanted to spend the remainder of your evening. Then again, who would choose this? Seconds later, your phone rang, and you hastily reached for your discarded bag, eager to speak to anyone that could help you.

“Are you in the elevator?” Wanda’s concerned voice sounded from the other end of the line and you smiled ruefully—of course you were; that was just your luck. Still, you didn’t say that.

“Yup, me and Bucky,” you said, forcing your voice to sound less defeated than you felt. It resulted in a strained sound, but at least you managed to contain most of the emotion you felt.

If you had allowed yourself to let it shine through, Wanda would’ve wanted to talk it through immediately, and this was not the time or place for that conversation. Especially since you knew she wouldn’t let you dance around anything.
And you might have been petty by ignoring him—boy had you been petty—but you weren’t ready to confront the reasons why. You were fully aware that you shouldn’t be angry with him over a dream. However, eventually, you would have to talk to him about the feelings that the dream evoked. The anger, the pain and the love that were all still swirling around in your head—they needed to be addressed. There were still questions that needed to be answered, but you would need to acquire a more level head before you broached that conversation.

“I’ve called maintenance, and they are sending someone,” Wanda said. Whether she had heard the strain in your voice or not, she didn’t respond to it and you were grateful for it.

“How long will that be?” you asked, quickly pressing the speaker button so Bucky could hear it too.

“Well—“ Wanda hesitated, and you inwardly groaned—that hesitation didn’t bode well.  

“Just say it,” Bucky said, his voice soft, and you could hear the same strain in it that you felt.

“Since it’s the long weekend, it might be a while before they can reach someone,” Wanda confessed. “At least an hour or so, maybe longer.” 

You groaned, hitting your head against the wall as you threw it back. This really wasn’t something you’d been ready to deal with. For a moment, you wondered if you’d pissed someone off lately, thinking that this might be some strange form of karma. Bucky sighed loudly and sat down on the wall to your left, pulling his legs up and placing his forehead on his knees. He appeared as defeated as you felt.

The following thirty minutes were spent in more tense silence, the heat slowly rising and the air becoming more stifling. Bucky had spent a good chunk of time trying and failing to open the doors just a crack, in an attempt to get some fresh air in. His prosthetic arm made it hard for him to get a good grip, and eventually, he had to give up. He had dropped down on the floor, wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve. The funny thing was, that his attempts had made you more angry with him than the silence could’ve. As he had been working, you had been telling him that it was useless. He had simply replied that sitting still felt worse. His voice had been clipped and you knew that you’d been pushing his buttons. Now as he sat down, you got even more annoyed and you knew you would have to figure out why that was.

The silence stretched again while you pondered, eventually coming to the realisation that you might have been pushing his buttons intentionally. All in order to get a response. His passive behaviour was getting to you, and it had been ever since he returned. Before he joined the army, he would call you out on your bullshit and you missed that part of him—the active, no-nonsense person he had been.

Still, even though you knew that you were being irrational, you still huffed as he moved around to cross his legs. Bucky looked up at the sound, confusion clear in his eyes, but he still didn’t say a word. A move that didn’t help matters one bit. The person he had been was confident and a fighter. The Bucky sitting across from you seemed to have lost all that fight. You wondered if he realised this as well. After all, he had previously voiced that he’d wanted his old life back, but how would ever manage to do so if he remained passive?

Your train of thought was rather hypocritical of course, even you could not deny that. You’d been equally as passive over the past few years. But none of that really mattered in your current state of mind. Only your anger and annoyance with his behaviour did. 
Words of anger burned on the tip of your tongue, eager to spew like fire, but you tried to swallow them down. You didn’t want to argue in this small and heated space.

“Have I done something wrong?” Bucky finally asked, scooting towards you, and your head quickly whipped in his direction. You wondered if he was referring to the huff or if he had been catching onto your mood the entire evening. You hoped the first, but feared the latter—you’d never been able to hide much from this man.

Shrugging in lieu of an answer, you returned your stare back to your now wringing hands. Technically, he hadn’t done much wrong, not as of late, but he hadn’t really done too many things right either. And you had never even worked through the problems you had faced years ago. There was so much still lingering beneath the surface.

“You seem angry,” Bucky pressed and took a deep breath.

He wasn’t wrong, you just weren’t entirely sure what to tell him. A big part of you was still trying to shield him from your emotions like you had done when he first came back. You knew how detrimental this was to your own peace of mind, but it was a tough habit to break.

“I guess I am,” you finally confessed, opting for honesty even if you didn’t have a clear reason or explanation to give him.

“Is it because of me?” His voice was pleading and it tore at your heart. You really wanted to tell him no, that it wasn’t about him. Except it was, and it wasn’t doing either of you any good to keep it from him any longer. It was high time to be more open.

“I—I just am,” you finally muttered, now angry with yourself for chickening out.

But how were you supposed to explain it to him? ‘Yeah, I had a dream about us and we had a family. And now I’m angry that you took that from me, even if it was fictional.’ That reasoning probably wouldn’t go over well. Besides, even though that might have sparked your anger today, the real issues ran far deeper.

The underlying issues went back to the moment where he had packed up and left, without saying a word. Which was probably the reason that his silence these days pissed you off, at least in part. When he had returned from that last overseas mission, silence had been his fallback if the conversation that needed to be had was hard. He’d ran from the tough subjects and you’d allowed him to do it without consequences. Which meant he’d never faced the demons he needed to face, and neither had you.

“I wish we could talk like we used to,” you whispered as a single tear slipped from your eye. Getting emotional hadn’t been on your to-do-list for tonight, but the tension was getting too high and you’d been fighting your emotions all day already. You were exhausted. Combine that with being locked in a small space with the one person that sparked your anger—irrationally so—and it was a powder keg waiting to happen.

“Me too,” Bucky confessed, turning his head to look straight ahead again.

“So why can’t we?” you asked, hating the desperation that shined through in those words.

“I just—it’s hard to talk to you.” His words hurt, but you also realised that this was the most open he had been in months. So you tried to breathe through the sting and opened yourself up to the conversation as well. Perhaps this was the moment for it, even if you didn’t feel ready at all.

“Why’s that?” you asked, swallowing the part of the question that asked if that was your fault.

“I screwed up so badly and I hurt you.” His voice was gruff as emotions strained it, and you fought the urge to console him, afraid that it would stall the conversation.

“You did hurt me, but I was still ready to forgive you when you returned.” Why couldn’t he have accepted that? Why couldn’t it have been a fresh start? You knew the answer of course, but you had so wished for it.

“I didn’t think I deserved it, and I wasn’t ready to forgive myself.” He shrugged and you shifted around to face him.

“And now you are?” you wondered, finally looking him in the eye.

“I’m working on it.” Another shrug. That didn’t tell you much of anything. You assumed he still spoke to his therapist, which was a good thing, but you were still left in the dark.

“So I should just wait around?” you asked accusingly, a bitterness to your voice that you hadn’t heard before.

“No, I—look, I don’t know how to fix what I broke between us,” Bucky said, avoiding your eyes as he spoke, but you could see the tears shining in his baby blues.

“I’m not asking you to do it on your own,” you urged, “but if you don’t talk to me, it’s never going to happen,”

“What if you don’t like who I am now?” Bucky whispered and you felt more tears fall from your eyes. Had he been procrastinating because he feared the outcome? Could either of you have changed so drastically that you wouldn’t like one another anymore? The thought had never even crossed your mind. Instead, you had been waiting for everything to get back to how it had been when things were still good. You wondered which train of thoughts was closer to the truth. Hopefully, neither.

“What if I do?” you asked him, trying to force a smile on your lips in encouragement.

“I’m not who I used to be and I probably never will be again,” Bucky said, as if he was trying to convince you to walk away. To give up on him and any semblance of a relationship—platonic or not.

“We’ve both changed. Steve changed, but you still worked to repair your relationship with him,” you tried to reason with him. Why had he been willing to fight for Steve, but not you?

“I’m not sure I can lose you again,” Bucky confessed as the tears that had been brimming his eyes finally fell and you took ahold of his flesh hand.

“Bucky, you’ve burrowed your way into my heart and I don’t think I’ll ever get you out,” You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, before letting the anger rise a little. “But dammit Buck, if we don’t figure this out—“ you cut yourself off to take another deep breath in hopes to calm your nerves as much as you could, “we’ll never be able to go back to what it was, and we might never really recover. But, what if we could have a beautiful friendship? And we keep missing out on that because you don’t dare to take a step, and I’m the idiot that lets you be passive forever.”

“For any of this to be resolved, we’ll need to work on it. We can’t keep ignoring the things that still stand between us,” you added after another deep sigh. It was hard to contain your emotions, but shouting would not help the situation.

“So, I guess we’re doing this,” Bucky chuckled awkwardly.

“Guess we are.” You tried to offer him a smile, though it probably came off a little weak.

“Tell me what happened, Bucky. How did it all come to be because I still don’t really understand, and I want to.”

“I’m not sure what to say, how to explain it all,” Bucky whispered, again avoiding your gaze.

“I’m sorry, but that’s just not good enough,” you said and quickly realised this was the first time in a long time that you demanded more for yourself than his usual cop-out answers.
 You understood this wasn’t easy on him, and up until this point, you’d let him walk away from an explanation because of it. But this wasn’t easy on you either, and you deserved to know what happened from his point of view. You deserved a resolution to the pain and sadness that had held you in its grip for the past few years.  

“I know,” he pulled back his hand from your grip and moved it through his hair instead, messing up the effects of mousse that had kept it in place.

“I know things weren’t easy. I know you were going through a lot. But you just shut me out and didn’t even bother to say goodbye before you left,” you pressed, holding your hands against your chest to ward off the pain that shot through you when he pulled away from you. There was a clear divide and you wondered if it would ever be bridged.

“I was a coward,” he said softly.

“Yes, you were,” you said matter of factly, Bucky chuckled, but didn’t say much else. Eventually, you decided to ask him one of the most important questions in your mind. “If you could do it over, would you still leave?”

“No, I don’t think I would,” Bucky said after a few moments. He was pensive about his answer, but you believed him.

“Why not?”

“I thought it would be better for everyone, but it only made everything worse,” Bucky confessed. At least he now accepted that it had been the start, rather than the end, of all the problems you were now facing.

“How on earth did you think it would help anyone?” you exclaimed. It was insane to you.

“I thought that you’d move on if I left. You deserved better than me,” he said, biting his bottom lip as he reached for the dog tags you knew were hidden beneath his clothes. Turning the chain in his fingers, he kept staring at the small piece of floor visible between the two of you.

“Why?” It still baffled you how his tragic injury took away all his confidence. You could only hope that it would someday return to him because he was not suddenly less.

“I was scared that you were staying out of obligation,”

“Do you not know me at all?” you asked with a rueful chuckle.

Bucky had been your entire world, when he left your life had come crashing down. Suddenly you wondered if you had changed before his accident even happened. When had you let him become the only thing of importance in your life? Not to say that you didn’t love your friends and family, but he had been the be-all, end-all. Had you suffocated him with your love? When had you stopped loving yourself? And when had that begun to make him believe that your love for him had turned into an obligation?

“It’s stupid, I know,” he said and you scoffed—well, that was an understatement.

“And what about Steve? Your parents? What about everyone else you left behind?”

“Honestly, I wasn’t really thinking about anyone else.” He finally looked up and the pain in his eyes was enough to leave you reeling.

“You’re an idiot,” you said in an attempt at a joke, hoping to lighten the emotions you were feeling.

“Yep,” he replied, clearly attempting to do the same.

And just then, everything changed again. The elevator surged and came to a stop with a loud screeching sound. You nearly jumped into Bucky’s lap, but settled for grabbing onto his arm with an unattractive shriek escaping through your mouth. He took your hand in his and you both glanced at the doors, waiting for a sign to explain what had happened.

The answer came when the doors opened and you were greeted by the worried faces of Sam, Maria and Wanda, accompanied by a firefighter and a mechanic. With a relieved sigh, you jumped up, grabbed your purse and coat as you moved and quickly stopped outside of the elevator. You were not risking it locking you in again.

In an instant, you were wrapped up in the waiting arms of Wanda, who whispered soothing words in your ears for only you to hear. She held you close as she wondered if you were okay and didn’t let go until you had convinced her that you were. Sam, meanwhile, fussed over Bucky, while Maria spoke to the firefighter and thanked him and the mechanic for coming. It wasn’t until your rescuers had left that Maria and Sam invited you all back up for drinks. With a tired smile you declined, opting to go home instead. Heading for the stairs, you waved goodbye as you wondered if your tired body would carry you down all those steps. The elevator had only taken you down three floors.

Behind you, the door to the stairwell opened and closed softly and you didn’t need to look back to know that Bucky followed you. You were just grateful that he remained quiet until you finally reached the bottom. You weren’t sure if you could’ve spoken and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other without falling down those stairs. 

“I feel like we weren’t done talking,” Bucky said as you stepped out into the crisp evening air. You took a deep steadying breath before answering him.

“We aren’t,” you agreed. “But I need time, and you need to think about your answer to my questions.” You offered a small smile in hopes that it would soften your words a little. You knew it would be good to keep going now, but you were exhausted and just wanted to sleep.

“Right.” He glanced at his feet and shuffled in place, clearly unsure what else he could say. You were secretly very happy that he was so ready to keep the conversation going; that was a change from his passivity.

“We will have that conversation, promise! Just not tonight. Right now, I just want to sleep,” you explained further, and he seemed to consider it, before nodding and accepting it as the truth.

“Okay, sleep tight,” he said after you had declined his offer to drive you home. He stepped forward as if to give you a hug but changed his mind mid-way and stepped back again. He waved instead as you got into your car. You offered him one more smile and drove off before he could see the fresh tears that were prickling your eyes.

The drive home had never felt quite as long as it did tonight and by the time you got to your apartment building, the tears were falling freely. Leaning forward on your steering wheel for a moment, you allowed the sadness to take over completely. You weren’t entirely sure what was making you cry this much, but instead of fighting it or overthinking, you decided to let it out. Fighting your emotions hadn’t been helping you do far, perhaps it was time to stop bottling it all up.

And when you were finally ready to exit your car a few minutes later, your phone rang—the sound breaking through the overall silence and making you jump. You didn’t need to check the caller id to know who it would be, and you chuckled despite the tears.

“Hey, love, are you alright?” Wanda asked as soon as you answered, and you smiled at the sound of her voice. You were lucky to have the friends that you had.

“I will be,” you promised as you gathered your things and stepped out of the car with the phone still to your ear.

“All your efforts to avoid him, and you get stuck in an elevator,” she said and you chuckled again; you really hadn’t been hiding it well.

“I wasn't very subtle huh,” you said, more as a statement than a question.

“Not at all,” she said simply, “but that’s okay.”

“It was good though, I think. We talked a little,” you told her, feeling a sense of calm about it. It had been hard, but good. Necessary for sure.

“So what now?” Wanda wanted to know.

“I’ve asked him to explain how he came to his decision to leave, and he couldn’t answer it. So I asked him to figure that out.”

“Good, that’s good. You need those answers,” she agreed with you, clearly happy that you’d pressed for an answer.

“I don’t know why I thought I could move on without them,” you confessed and she hummed; clearly she knew something that you didn’t, and when you didn’t speak any further, she decided to share her knowledge.

“Because you just wanted him back in your life”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Did remind me of a quote though.” 
“A quote?” she asked, and you realised how random that must have sounded.

“Yeah, one my mom sent me when he first left,” you explained. Your mom had felt horrible to be as far away from you as she was at the time. They had relocated the year before, for your father’s work and they couldn’t afford to come very often. So she had sent you little notes over text and email. Sometimes a quote, or a poem. Sometimes words of kindness. Wanda had found it incredibly sweet when you had shown her the messages.

“What was it?”

“The hardest goodbyes are the ones that are never said and never explained.” The quote made so much more sense now than it had back then. Your anger was linked to that moment where he decided to give you no explanation for his departure. And his inability to give it to you now fuelled it.

“Do you want me to come over?” Wanda asked.

“You are a gem, Wanda! Have I told you that lately?” you asked and she chuckled before you added, "but think I just want to sleep.”

“I’ll call you in the morning,” she promised.

And after thanking her for her kindness and telling her that you loved her dearly, you finally hung up. By then you had reached your apartment, and you swiftly got in, locked the door behind you, and proceeded down the hallway towards the bedroom in one straight line. On the way, you dropped your purse and coat, kicked off your shoes, before you fell face-first on your bed—not even bothering to change as you allowed sleep to take over. 


[safflowerseason]

You reblogging Gilmore Girls inspired me to go back and watch and now I'm back in my Jess/Rory feels. Ngl, the way they ended up kind of reminds me of how I felt about Dan and Amy's ending in Veep, and the lack of any real sort of closure or resolution to their storyline, even with the entire revival. I'm interested to know your thoughts on the way their story was handled/wrapped up. (Plus side -- my love for Emily Gilmore was revived again, what an icon).

Hi Anon - thanks so much for writing in. I love hearing from other Veep fans who enjoy the same shows I do ☺️ Your ask caused a mini-storm of Rory/Jess reblogs on my end too, lol. And yes, Emily Gilmore is a fucking icon. A tour de force performance. 

What’s interesting about Gilmore Girls for me is that while I do love it a lot and enjoy talking about it and occasionally get in my feels about it, it’s not a show of my heart for me the way Veep and The West Wing are. I probably would not donate money to a political cause in order to watch a GG reunion special, lol. So while I love Rory/Jess very much, I don’t feel psychically wounded by their storyline the way I feel about how Dan and Amy’s storyline was treated. 

For me, Rory and Jess’s final meeting in S6 works as both closure and a form of resolution. It’s a little ambiguous, but there’s pretty definite takeaways: Rory realizes she loves Logan (bleh), they acknowledge their connection anyway, and even though Jess is disappointed, he’s also a real adult about the whole thing. He’s obviously not going to cut Rory out of his life or anything drastic and immature like that.

The revival, in contrast, tosses a firm resolution out the window, but this seem to be ASP’s preferred modus operandi where Rory’s relationships are concerned. It makes clear that that in the last ten years they’ve developed a deep and enduring friendship and that he’s still carrying a torch for her. Is that closure? I think it’s closure in the sense that we’re given all (or nearly all) the facts about where they stand with one another and their relationship is treated very significantly by the show (in other words, there’s no Mandelian gaslighting). We don’t know what’s going to happen with Rory and Jess, but we know their relationship matters, and that they are a major part of one another’s lives. 

In some ways, I think that the “lack of closure” you’re referring to is really just ASP letting Rory and Jess’s profound connection endure in a very realistic way. Two people can have a soul-deep relationship, can even have confused and repressed romantic feelings about one another, and it doesn’t always mean they have to be a) romantically involved or b) fully cut out of one another’s lives. (Okay, this turned into a real essay, so below the cut are my angsty feelings about teenage Rory/Jess, haha).

I tend to get most in my feelings about teenage Rory and Jess, though, because that’s when their dysfunction is on display, and as y’all know, I love me a star-crossed dysfunctional couple who can’t quit each other. And also mostly because the show totally nails the adolescent yearning of their relationship, the almost-grown-up-but-not-quite desire that’s powering their connection. They just want each other so much. And I love the fated sense of doom hanging over their attraction in S2, as they edge around each other. It’s done really lightly and aching, and so pure and bittersweet, you just know this is all going to blow up in everyone’s faces somehow, that both Jess and Rory are going to self-sabotage. (Yes, of course, Jess is objectively more dysfunctional and the dissolution of their relationship is absolutely his fault—he’s barely staying in school, he’s a complete emotional wreck, he strings Rory along, he should not be anyone’s boyfriend. But Rory also has emotional issues that exacerbate things between them.)

I do have a lot of complicated feelings about how Jess is written in S2 and S3. I think Jess is a great character and they got better at writing him overtime, but at first he’s stuck in this kind of cartoonish over-the-top rebellious teen mode, talking like he’s a greaser member of a street gang in the 1950’s, and I think Milo Ventimiglia delivers a lot of those lines way too heavy-handed in the beginning. Whenever he baits Dean in S2, I always cringe a little, partly because everyone is acting so embarrassingly, and partly because, whatever ASP might be wishing, it’s not actually 1952 and no one talks like that. Ventimiglia shines a lot more in his quieter moments with Luke and Rory.

But I also feel that the way the breakdown of their relationship was handled was very…hamfisted. We barely get any Jess and Rory just being Jess and Rory before their relationship starts dissolving before our very eyes. There are some super cute moments sprinkled throughout S3, but they’re all overshadowed by Dean basically muscling in Rory and Jess’s first date or Jess ruining his meeting with Emily or Jess flaking on Rory…so the poignant bittersweet sense from S2 just becomes this impending sense of dread in S3 as we wait for Jess to do something so truly horrible he becomes unsympathetic to the audience. I actually don’t rewatch most of S3 for this reason, but at least it makes his redemption feel earned. I applaud the show for actually bringing Jess back in S4 when his life is still 90% a mess. He’s taken a few baby steps, but it’s realistic about how hard and messy it is to really change your life. Without those messy S4 appearances, his obvious growth in S6 wouldn’t feel nearly so powerful. 

Obviously Rory loses her virginity to Dean and has an affair with him blah blah, but I think her relationship with Jess really represents her loss of innocence as a child. He’s the first person she actively “loses” after her dad. Christopher’s absence is built into Rory—it’s a part of her identity. But Rory loves Jess and loses him even as the purity of their emotional connection is increasingly emphasized over the rest of the series. That loss is foundational for the rest of her relationships—it’s a huge part of why she relapses with Dean and why she finds Logan so appealing, and it’s a huge part of why Rory keeps Jess firmly in the friend box for the rest of the series, even as they connect and reconnect and as Jess grows enough to realize that no dramatic pronouncements of love are going to win Rory over. 

I don’t know. That scene when they’re kissing by the phone box and everything is new and perfect and tender and untouched between them and they’re both just like wow and you just know it can’t stay that way forever. It’s so perfect. It’s the perfect encapsulation of what it’s like to be seventeen and in your first real relationship (and then Rory runs off to apologize to Dean…ugh. Boundaries, Rory!) (also, I do not count Dean as her first real relationship. They're just playacting. Rory only dates Dean because he’s a magazine’s idea of a perfect high school boyfriend. She has nothing in common with him. They spend the entire time fighting about Harvard. Dean sucks.) 

[aloneeedra]

Mint 2 B  pt. 1

Hello! This is my first time posting on Tumblr. I posted this on Wattpad. I had split it up in two parts. Thank you for reading. 

Japril Fanfic | My alternative story on how Japril should have ended| I Disclaimer: All rights belong to Shonda Rhimes, I only own my version of the ending|

She took a deep breath, the letter folded neatly in her small hand as the other hand reached upwards, tighten it into a even smaller fits and pressed against the wooden door with her knuckles, threes soft knocks.

She wanted him to be gone. She had hope that no one would answered the door, or even hear her gentle knock, but the door did open, only he wasn't the one to answer.

Maggie open the door slightly, her eyes becoming huge for a split second before back to normal. "April? Uh, hi? What are you doing here?"

She wanted to laugh. What was she doing here? Her ex-husband's new girlfriend/step sister just open the door of the place she use to call home, and asked her why she was standing outside a place she clearly didn't belong. If this wasn't a sign, April didn't know what was.

She ignore the question, giving her a force smile. "Is Jackson here?"

"He went to the store a few minutes ago. Do you want to come in and wait-"

"No, I just came to," she looked down at the letter in her hand before deciding other wise, putting it back in her small handbag resting against one side of her body, "to, um, to talk to him. Can you just tell him I really need to talk to him?"

Maggie nodded her head. "Of course."

April nodded her head, her red curls wrapped in a tight bun only slightly moving with the momenta. "Um, you're a good person, Maggie. It's ashamed you're sleeping with my ex-husband, we could have been good friends." Maggie began to protest, throwing out random jumbles of words to try to defend herself, but April wasn't in the mood to listen. "Just take good care of him, okay? Jackson deserves nothing but happiness. I just want him to be happy." She gave her a sad smile. "Please just make him happy."

The step-sister nodded her head slightly. "I will do my best." She gave April the best comfort smile she could, but April ignored it, feeling like it was mostly out of pity rather than kindness.

And with that, she nodded her head one last time before her hands found the strap of her bag, tight around the leather as she turned and started walking away from the only home she ever really felt was her own. 

-

She turned the chart over, looking at the notes left by the other doctors. "Well, Pete, looks like you're going to be just fine." April smiled up at her old friend she met what seemed like ages ago, fighting to give solders a chance. "You can tell your kids you'll make it to their birthday party."

Pete raised his use-to-be-burn arm, a side wise smile spreading across his face. "And who shall I thank that to?"

"Dr. Avery of course, though, you should just say a superhero instead. I'm sure Jackson won't mind having his credit taken by a fictional hero if it was to make a kid smile."

"Speaking about Avery, have you talked to him?"

April sighed, taking a sit next to him. "No. I want by his place last night, but Maggie answered the door instead. I decided it was best if I just try another time, or maybe not at all."

"April."

"I just feel like Jackson is trying so hard to burry a hole, and I just keep digging it back up for my own selfish reason, and I've already hurt him enough." She leaned her head against her arm. "Pete, I don't think I have the right to do this to him. He's happier, I can see it."

"Happier doesn't mean happy, April. Besides, no mater how much he tries to bury that hole, it well never be fully fill. You will always be a part of his life no mater where you go."

April stared over at her much older friend, sticking her tongue. "No," she finally mumbled, "what I'm doing isn't right. I'm not going to take what Jackson has tried so hard to build just to get some kind of closure. I care about him too much to do that to him." She placed the card down on the table, knowing she was right- it hurt her, but it couldn't be help. "Not again. I have to let him go."

She took a moment to rub her face with her hands, trying hard to keep her eyes dry, but it was much harder than she thought it could be. Everything felt so force. How April and Jackson have handle the situation- well, they barley did. And now that she has decided to let him go, there was nothing more she could do.

Pete reached his hands over, pulling her into his arms, wrapping them around to comfort her as best as he could. Just feeling someone's hands around her, it gave her the opportunity to just let go of everything.

This was it.

-

She reached her hands into her pocket, looking for her phone, only to find a pen, a pad and a wrinkled piece of paper. She pushed her eyebrows together. She put the pen and the small pad on the counter, before grabbing the piece of paper and un-wrinkling it.

You'll thank me one day for this

April re-read the piece of paper, unsure who or what it could mean. Was she a part of some kind of scheme she didn't know about? Was it from Jackson? No, it didn't look like his handwriting. Maggie? She didn't know how Maggie's handwriting looked like, but she wasn't around her all day, there was no way she could have put it into her pocket. The only person who was close enough to put something was Pete, and it did look like his handwriting, but what the hell did it mean?

She shrugged her shoulders, letting the piece of paper drop on the counter along with the pen and pad. She had too much on her mind to try and figure out what her friend meant. It could be anything if she thought hard about it, really. She felt the ends of her white layer, rolling her shoulders back. I'm a doctor, dammit, she thought, I'm a freaking soldier.

Just then, the soldier felt a rough hand grab around her arm, dragging her along without much context in between. "Wha-" She looked to see who was dragging her to a random storage room, only to see Jackson with a low expression. His jaw tightened, and his eyes looked straight in front of him. "Jackson, what are you doing?" He ignored her until his hand was on the doorknob, he opened it and dragged her inside it. He let go of her arm and walked to the other side of the room, darting around his half, his hands on his hip.

April tried again. "Why did you drag-" He pulled out her letter from his pocket. April quickly closed her mouth, taking in exactly what was happening. Finally, she said calming, "Where did you get that? How do you..how do you have that?"

"Your friend Pete handed it to me, said it was from you."

Her eyes widen. "So, that's what he meant," she murmured, referring to the small corner of paper that she found in the bottom of her pocket. "Uh," she looked around her, unsure how to handle the situation. She had let him go. Pete had no right to give Jackson the letter. She had let him go. Anger grew insider her. "I knew I've should have ripped it. God, I should have just ripped it!" She took a step towards him. "It doesn't matter, just give it to me."

She tried to reach for the letter, but he pulled it back. "I read the date. You wrote this for me when you were over there, right?"

"Jackson.."

"Right?"

April swallowed, nodding her head. "Yeah."

Jackson moved the letter towards her in his hand, wanting her to take it. "Read it to me."

"I don't- I don't really think that's a good ide-"

"April, I got this yesterday. I could only read the first line. I can't," he started rubbing his head out of frustration. "I can't stop thinking about it. I tried to, but I can't read the rest -I just, it's in my pocket the whole freaking day, just burning a hole, a constant reminder. I hate it, but I can't pretend it's not there." His blue-green eyes looked at her. "I need to know what it says." He motioned again for her to take the letter. "Read it to me."

She began to feel jumpy, like how she did when she drank six cups of coffee to stay awake. There was something heavy in her chest as she grabbed the letter from her ex-lover, feeling the small lines form from the constant folds it had gone through. She met his eyes, shaking her head slightly. "I really don't think this is a good idea," she whispered.

This time, Jackson's frustration spoke rather than his anger. His eyes became watery around the edges, she could tell, even in the darkened room. "Please," he plead.

She started unfolding the small paper, trying her best to make it as straight as possible, her eyes on the paper the entire time. "Okay," she mumbled before starting to read the letter out loud.

April cleared her voice slightly, her hands slowly becoming a sweaty mess, but her voice stood steady as she began to read the words of her past self.

"To my beloved Jackson,

I'm sorry if this gets to you a few weeks from now, our postal services aren't the best. I have tried to call you for the past week, but it seems no matter how many times I bang the box-like thing people call a phone here against any sort of hard, solid object, for example, a rock, or my temporal seat, it will not get a signal, work or get me to hear your voice. It could be some kind of twisted sign that maybe we shouldn't talk to each other, but I simply could not just not speak to you. So, I decided to write you a letter. I hope it's not too late.

I-"

April took a deep breath.

"I love it here. I love the people, their energy, my energy. Every day here, it matters to a point where nothing else could. Every day I wake up, and I feel like this is where I'm supposed to be. Jackson, I was meant to be here. This was, from the very start, my home. I get this adenine that I didn't know was there before, and when I save someone who has risked their life for the safety of others, I feel like I'm saving a superhero. When I save a soldier, I feel like I'm saving people's hope, and it's a feeling that could never compare to anything else. I'm happier here."

April looked up at Jackson, who was only holding on by a thread. "I think we should stop here."

"Read the rest, April."

April lets out a frustrated cry, "Just please listen to me. There's no point. You got the gist of it. Why would you want to hear more? Why does it matter? It won't change anything. It will only hurt you more. Just look at yourself, you're falling apart."

Jackson looked over at her. "Goddammit, April, stop trying to protect me! It's not your job anymore. Read it, or I'll find someone else to do it."

She didn't want to read the rest, but she rather read it than have someone else. These words, they were just too personal, and they meant too much to her to have someone else know of them. They were between her old self and a past Jackson. No one else was allowed to hear them.

She looks back down at the letter. "Fine, but you're going to regret it." Her eyes darted to the place she left on, deciding to read the last two lines.

"When I save a soldier, I feel like I'm saving people's hope, and it's a feeling that could never compare to anything else. I'm happier here."

She took a deep breath, looking up, hoping Jackson would change his mind, but he kept his eyes glued to a random object.

She continued.

"Yet, I can't help but feel I'm lacking something."

She watched as his expression change, his eyes widen.

"Someone name Pete here (you would like him, he's your kind of funny) he has this saying he says a lot. Happier is not happy. I love it here, it's a part of me, and I don't regret coming here, but, Jackson, the thing I'm lacking is you. You are what would make me happy, not this."

He looked over at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I miss you in ways that I didn't even know were possible. Every time I'm doing something, I look up and expect to see you there, to hear your voice, to see your eyes on me, to touch you. I feel like this is the place where I'm supposed to be, but it doesn't matter, because I want to be with you. The people here are great, they're like family, but that doesn't matter, because you are my family. You matter more. I meant to be with you, Jackson, you are and forever will be my home.

"I'm sorry that it took me to go across the world to figure this out. I love you in ways that people will never know. I love you in every way and form, and in new ways that only we can ever feel. You are more to me than my husband; than my lover; than my best friend. You are my superhero. You are my person. You are the only thing that could compare me saving people's hope; because you are my hope.

"Jackson, I pick you over everything else. You will always matter more to me than everything else.

"What happened to us was not fair, it also wasn't our fault. I don't regret kissing you outside that hotel room, losing my virginity to you, or the make out that follow the day after in the boy's bathroom. I don't regret leaving the alter with you. I don't regret getting married to you. You are the one thing in my life I will never stop fighting for. We have a choice to make. We can give up on us, or we can become stronger, together.

"I pick me and you.

"I'm coming to you as soon as I can. Sadly, there so much I still have to do here until I can leave, but I'll try to make it as soon as possible. I'm coming. Please, don't give up on me. Please keep holding on a bit longer. I know you must be suffering on your own, but I'll be right next to you soon, I promise.

I'm coming home.

Love yours now and forever,

April"

April didn’t want to meet Jackson's eyes as he took the letter from her. He read over it, like he was still trying to grasp the words. "Why did I never get this?" He asked softly. There was no anger anymore, just, maybe sadness and a bit of frustration.

She could only think of one thing to say. "The postal serves really sucks." She let out a forced laugh, wiping a tear or two before folding her arms over her chest. She was biting the inside of her lip. She didn't know what else to do.

Jackson looked over at her. His eyes were red, but he acted like nothing was falling from them and April pretended that she couldn't see it. "I need more than that."

"I sent it to you about, what? Three months before I came back. I thought you had gotten it. It wasn't until Pete came that he gave me it. Turns out it got lost, so they just return it since it was so long ago." Jackson stayed silent. "Jackson, I-" she didn't know what to say, "when I came back, I thought that you had it. I just assume that you had gotten it and you had decided," she pauses, "you decided to not pick me and you."

They finally met each other's eyes. He was suffering. He was slowly falling apart. She wanted to reach over and comfort him, but it wasn't her place anymore. She had to stay on her side. She had decided, even after knowing that the letter never made it to Jackson, she had decided to let him go. In a way, stopping was also a form of fighting. Stopping her efforts to get them back together was April way of fighting for something much bigger than their love: for Jackson's happiness.

She still meant every single word she had written back then. Jackson, right alongside Harriet, mattered more than anything else to her. His happy ending matter more than her feelings.

Feeling she had nothing more to say, she gave him a forced smile. "I'll give you some time to process all this." She wiped the reminding tears, trying hard to make them stop, before walking out of the small storage room.

-

The next morning, when she checked the weather, it said no rain, yet, when April raised her hand out to the sky, she felt the slight coldness of rain. She let out a sigh, putting her clipboard above her head as she ran across the parking lot to the familiar car. Before she tapped on the window of the passenger seat, she gave herself time to looked through it. Maybe she should just have just ignored his text, blame it on an intern. It was too late though, she did the familiar motion, knocking on the door. Jackson looked over, unlocking the door for her. April got in.

"I got your text," she started, staring straight ahead, "what's up?"

There was a small frustrated cry from him. "Honestly, I don't even know why I texted you," he started rubbing his face with his hands.

"Oh," she looked back at the hospital, "then maybe I should go back." Her hand wrapped around the car handle, ready to go back into the rain. Jackson placed his hand on her thigh, motioning her to stay. She looked at him to see he was already looking at her. She let go of the handle, resting against the seat. He took his hand off.

"Why didn't you tell me about Harriet?"

"What?" She looked in front of her, watching as the rain slowly hit the car. "I thought we were past this."

"I did too until I got the letter, April, now," he looked forward as well, "now I'm just trying to figure out, I don't know, everything. I didn't have this back then, and maybe if I did; if I knew this is how you felt, maybe things would be different."

She could see how much he was struggling with this. This was exactly why she should have just torn that letter as soon as she got it. She was causing Jackson unnecessary pain, now she had to try her best to help him. "I didn't tell you because I knew that if I did, you wouldn't go through the divorce." He stayed silent. "I wanted you to stay with me because you love me, not because of Harriet."

She could see his head turn in corner of her eye. "I do love you."

She met his gaze. "Not the same way you did before." His eyes widen. It was too much for her. She returned her gaze back to the pouring rain. "If I had told you, and we would have stayed together, every morning when I wake up, I would ask myself if the reason why you were with me was because you wanted to, or because you had to. I would feel like I trapped you. I couldn't do that. It wasn't' fair for me and it wasn't fair for you."

Jackson rested his head against the seat. "Why now," he mumbled, not really excepting an answer. "Why did all this have to happen now? Just out of the blue, too."

April shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know." There were still things she had to say. She didn't think she would, but now she knew that she had to. "That letter wasn't meant to fix our marriage," she began, "it wasn't meant to save us. It was written by someone who was deeply in love with someone who considered her to be as important as air, not two grown adults who are at a dead end." She looked at his green-blue eyes, "Jackson, I don't think there will ever be a day when I don't love you, or a day when I don't want to be with you, but maybe we're just not meant to be." She began to cry, a lot harder than before. "I guess you already figured that out, huh?" She started to wipe the stray tears, "Like always, I'm the last one."

"April.." he tried to give her a hug, but she shook her head.

"It's fine," she reassured him, giving a big smile. "This is for the best. These past few years with you were the best and worst moments of my life," she turned in her seat to sit in front of him, "It was a honer be the love of your life, Jackson Avery, every second being with you was everything I ever needed to prove that love is real."

He began to cry as well, but held a lot better than her. His eyes darted between her red ones. "It was an honor to be your home, April Kepner."

[fly-pow-bye]

ThunderCats Roar - “Mumm-Ra The Ever Living”

Co-Executive Producer: Victor Courtright

Supervising Producer: Nate Cash

Producer: Marly Halpern-Graser

Story by: Joan Ford

Teleplay by: Lesley Tsina

Directed by: Jeremy Polgar

Yup, that’s the name of the villain, alright.

Our adventure begins with a look at the daily life of Mumm-Ra, who manages to find various magical artifacts that give him his full strength. Every time he does this, the ThunderCats barge in, destroy it, turn Mumm-Ra The Ever Living back into his skeleton form, and finish him off by mocking him. One day, it's an evil orb. Another day, it's an evil stick. Another day, it's a evil Burger King crown. Okay, maybe it's just a regular crown, but that's the first thing to come to my mind.

This builds up to one day, where he just wants to relax and listen to his tape player, and, all because he was in his giant form, the ThunderCats come in and just smash everything in the room, including said tape player, until they find the jar that was making him big. One may almost feel kind of sorry for Mumm-Ra, even if he is a known jerk. As Mumm-Ra vows to take revenge from the ThunderCats inaccurate portrayals of him in their mocking tones, he finds a plug that wasn't connected to anything.

That was the plug for the Ancient Spirits of Evil, making this episode the first time these statues actually did anything except make his lair look cool. They celebrate finally being plugged in after "like, a million years" is to mock Mumm-Ra for not being able to defeat the ThunderCats. How would they know who the ThunderCats are if they weren't plugged in? It could be argued that these statues could be all-knowing, but this episode will disprove that.

The Ancient Spirits do have something else that could actually help Mumm-Ra and not just remind him of his constant failure: they can also give him the power to become Mumm-Ra the Ever Living, as long as they know the incantation. Thankfully for Mumm-Ra, they just write it out in his cauldron so he can recite it.

Getting powered up this way gives him a couple more bonus powers along with his strength and transformation abilities: the ability to control people's dreams, the ability to capture souls, and mind control. He doesn't seem to do the last two in this episode, but he does think of another ability he has that could counter the non-Tygra ThunderCats' great ability to mock him, as he laughs evilly.

In a masterful transition, Mumm-Ra's laughter fades right into the ThunderCats laughing at even more wacky impressions of that evil oafish goof. Both times, Tygra tries to butt in with his own not-so-impressive impression, much to the derision of his teammates. One may almost feel sorry for him if he wasn't...poor Tygra.

As they go to sleep, the night becomes a dark and stormy one, and the ThunderCats each receive their very own nightmare, courtesy of the master of impressions.

I'm not going to lie, this does lead to some interesting scenes. He could have just kidnapped them while they were asleep, but Mumm-Ra decides to use his newfound ability to alter dreams to give us some really cool scenes. Panthro has to experience his Thundertank turning into a giant mechanical cat monster, and Cheetara has to race through an endless corridor. With each of these scenes, Mumm-Ra, who usually turns himself into an imitation has his own witty counter-comebacks to fit in with the episode's theme of impressions.

However, the creativity isn't consistent, as Lion-O just gets covered with burritoes and Wilykit and Wilykat end up getting trapped in their Game and Watches, and those scenes last as long as Mumm-Ra's funny impressions of them. Tygra's is a little bit better, as they do reference the running gag of him not doing well with impressions with Mumm-Ra's impression not being very good either. He just puts him in a bag, and Snarf just walks in. I guess they couldn't think of a Snarf nightmare scene.

They end up getting locked in small cages, and Lion-O does a monologue about how Mumm-Ra "cheated." No, not because he used ancient spirits, but because impressions are supposed to be just for fun, not to be evil. He may as well just say, "Mumm-Ra's impressions are wrong because he's a bad guy and we're the good guys." Cheetara demonstrates this "fun" Lion-O is talking about by doing another "funny" Mumm-Ra impression, which is just her saying "I'm Mumm-Ra the ever living" in a mocking voice. One may notice I haven't quoted any of those supposedly witty impressions, and that's because that's pretty much most of them. At least Mumm-Ra's impressions from earlier at least reference some insecurity with each of them.

Confusing the mocking for the genuine article, the Ancient Spirits of Evil suddenly start talking. There is one snag: they can't know what incantation they have to say to turn themselves into Mumm-Ra The Ever Living. Thankfully, the spirits just tell them exactly what to say, because they buy Wilykat's excuse that he has "mummy-brain". They only had 3 more minutes left, I can't blame them.

Thanks to them saying the incantation that was spoon-fed to them, the Spirits gives them the power of the Ever Living, turning them giant and, in the case of Wilykit, Wilykat, and Cheetara, muscular. Except for Tygra, who, despite all of his training in thespian arts, can't seem to say the incantation in any voice that doesn't sound like a Berbil. To add insult to Tygra's near constant injuries in this episode and throughout this whole series, even Snarf was able to convince them to make him grow big, even though Snarf can't even talk.

With their new abilities, we get a fight scene showing their now equal strength and word-play. Lion-O, at one point, makes him eat dirt. Yes, because imitations are supposed to be fun and not evil, and nothing is less evil than shoving dirt in people's mouths. Again, he is an evil guy who locks people in cages, so his role as the punching bag is still justified.

Don't feel too sad for the other punching bag of the episode, though, as, even with just his relatively tiny body, he's able to deal the last blow with his bola whip. He still wishes anyone would be impressed by his impressions, though.

In the end, we do get some closure on the Tygra running gag, and the other ThunderCats celebrate by using their Ever Living abilities, which, outside of the strength, they really only used in this ending scene, to fly back home, leaving Tygra behind. I am still not convinced that this whole series is going to be Tygra's villain origin. We can also only make the assumption that the powers eventually wear off, as this episode just suddenly ends with a "The End" title card...

...complete with a fart sound. Because of course.

How does it stack up?

The nightmare scenes are pretty creative, but other than that, it's pretty adequate.

Next, pirates.

← Study Time 🐈 Berserkers →

[its-flicked-switch]

Alien

| RATING M | 

MSIV left the X-File fandom on the edge of a cliff that, in the absence of GA, will never be resolved to any level of satisfaction. Alien is my attempt to do what Chris Carter could not — provide closure for the series as a whole. What happens following Scully's revelations on the dock? What becomes of William, Skinner, Reyes, and The Smoking Man?

PREFACE

—

"Evil (ignorance) is like a shadow — it has no real substance of its own, it is simply a lack of light. You cannot cause a shadow to disappear by trying to fight it, stamp on it, by railing against it, or any other form of emotional or physical resistance. In order to cause a shadow to disappear, you must shine light on it."

— Shakti Gawain

—

For the past 17 years, I have played the role of Jackson Van De Kamp. Odd, isn't it? That I would refer to playing myself as playing a role? But as I reflect on all that has happened in the past 17 years, that is the only way I know how to describe the journey that began on a farm in rural Wyoming in 2001 — a role.

Initially, everything was as it should have been. I was an only child being raised by two loving and doting parents. They attended to me and each of my milestones with the adoration and enthusiasm typical of new parents. Imagine their absolute elation at my ability to run when most babies were still creeping around on all fours and their pride in my ability to read at a first-grade level when I was only three years old. I was their miracle, an answer to their prayers for parenthood. As I continued to grow, however, it became clear that I was far more than an exceptional miracle.

My early childhood was unremarkable, until the day that it wasn't.

Tragically, the Van De Kamp's love and devotion would not be enough to silence what was inside of me. Despite their efforts, my earliest childhood memories were shrouded by a sense of unease. A deep-seated feeling that something was missing or not as it should be. In time, my parents confessed what I already sensed. I wasn't truly theirs. I came into their lives as an infant and what they knew of my biological family was limited. I have now come to understand why. The Van De Kamps were truly remarkable parents. The more I learn about who and what I am, really am, the deeper I mourn their loss. They deserved better. We all deserved better.

Van De Kamp Entry #092

Case No. 11101993717

Evidence No. 163.092

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

CH1: THE WATER'S EDGE

—

"The truth is rarely pure and never simple."

― Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

—

The rain has thoroughly soaked through her hair and clothes, but Scully feels nothing. She remains anchored in place staring down into the black abyss below her as the divers divide the harbor into grids. When William and Spender disappeared into the depths of the harbor several hours ago, the air was cool and crisp with an overlay of mist, but the temperature has dropped ten to fifteen degrees since then and what was a soft drizzle has now transitioned into a light, steady rain.

She knows she should walk away, but she's done with that.

While C. G. B. Spender's admission to Skinner had come as a surprise, the truth had not. She and Mulder had long suspected the syndicate's involvement in her sudden ability to conceive a child. After discovering Emily and learning of her missing ova, Scully had run every test imaginable. Had there have been any ova remaining inside of her, she would have found them. This is how she knows with absolute certainty that the ova used to created William was either implanted or produced within her body by unnatural means.

Her greatest fear for William has always been that his existence was part of an agenda, and the testing she performed throughout her pregnancy and after his birth had done little to ease her fears. DNA doesn't lie. William is their son. Hers and Mulder's. Yet he isn't — at least not entirely.

Traditionally, each parent passes half of their genetic material to their unborn child. William, however, only shared half of her and Mulder's DNA collectively. The remaining half was unidentifiable and by definition — alien. When she performed the original analysis, the technology to isolate this anomaly and examine it properly didn't exist, at least not in any laboratory she had access to. Her desire to find the truth, however, had been overwritten by fear. She knew that exploring the origins and implications of the remaining half would come at a cost, undoubtedly drawing attention to and endangering their son. The decision to destroy all of the samples and data she had collected had not been a decision that she had made lightly. But ultimately, she had chosen William's safety over conspiracy and little green men.

What Scully had told no one, not even Mulder, was that she had kept the most critical sample of all. Hidden in a secure location amongst hundreds of thousands of other samples, she had stored William's umbilical cord, preserving not only his DNA but his stem cells. She could not, in good conscience, given what she and Mulder had experienced with the alien virus, destroy the key to the greatest mystery of their lives. Preserving his cord wasn't just about science. It was also about security. She had lost Mulder once, and the thought of going through anything like that ever again was unbearable. Their enemies had waged war on them before, and there was little assurance that they wouldn't come for them again. William's miraculous conception only served to further convince her that the truth was far more sinister than they had been previously led to believe. In that sense, what Spender had told Skinner was true. He was, at least on some level, responsible for the science that helped to created William — but a father, he was not.

Scully isn't sure where Mulder is at the moment, but there is little doubt in her mind that he is somewhere nearby taking the brunt of Deputy Director Kersh's wrath. The fact that she has been standing on the docks for over an hour and hasn't been approached or questioned by anybody is most certainly his doing. Were it not for Skinner, she and Mulder would both likely be in handcuffs and in the bowels of the justice building.

The call she made earlier to Tad O'Malley had been reckless, bordering on insane, but it had to be done. The days of hiding in the shadows were over. Remaining silent all these years had bought them time but not freedom. Too much had been lost to let this fall below the surface yet again. This time, those responsible will not be able to contain the blowback.

The vibrating phone in her pocket pulls her away from her thoughts and back into the harsh reality of her present surroundings. The only reason she even attends to it is that she thinks it might be Mulder, but it's not. It's her brother, and it's not the first time he's called. Tad O'Malley's broadcast in combination with tonight's body count has created quite the media storm with her and Mulder at its center.

Bill's hatred for Mulder still remains unmatched. If she can give her brother credit for anything, it's consistency. With the recent loss of their mother, she knows she can't continue to send him directly to her voicemail. He never calls, so the fact that he has called seven times in the last forty-five minutes tells her that he is about to reach his limit. If she doesn't answer soon, he is likely to turn up unannounced.

Deciding that answering the phone is the lesser of two evils, Scully takes a deep breath and hits accept, getting right to the point because she knows her brother well.

"Bill, this is not a good time. I'm going to have to call you back later."

Bill is well-connected and not above pulling rank to get the information he wants. Odds are, he already knows that she is not one of the casualties in tonight's bloodbath, leaving him with only one other reason to call, and she is in no mood to argue with her brother about Mulder or the X Files.

"Jesus Christ, Dana, what the hell is going on? Are you okay? I swear to God if Mulder —"

She cuts him off quickly because she doesn't have the energy or the patience to listen to his long list of grievances against Mulder.

"Mulder wasn't the source, Bill. I was. This isn't about the FBI or the X Files. This is about William."

She says William's name to shut him up, and also because she doesn't want him to hear it from another source. Given his high-security clearance, it's certainly possible he will find out elsewhere if she doesn't tell him herself, assuming he doesn't know already. Even though they haven't had a pleasant conversation in over a decade, he's still her brother, and he still deserves to hear it from her.

"I've seen him, Bill. Spoken to him. Mulder and I both have. He's…," she hesitates because she can't be certain that her line is secure. Swallowing the lump in her throat and steadying her voice, she finally settles with, "gone."

It's not a lie, but it's not the truth either.

"William? Dana… what are you talking about? And what do you mean gone… Jesus, is he…? How can you —"

"I can't talk about this right now. Tell everyone that I am okay and that I will be in touch as soon as I have a more secure line."

"Dammit, Dana, I —"

Ending the call, she switches off her phone and slips it back into her pocket. Scully knows that at some point she will have to level with her family and tell them the truth about William, but not now — not today. Her frozen fingers sink deeper into her damp pockets in search of her mother's quarter medallion.

The mystery surrounding its origin doesn't bother her as much as it used to. If anything, it has been a great source of comfort. Scully's mother and sister were the only members of her family to ever support her decision to join the FBI, and their support and relation to her had cost them their lives — her sister directly, her mother more so indirectly. Scully's abduction, cancer diagnosis, and subsequent hospitalizations in combination with Melissa's murder and William's adoption had undoubtedly aged her sweet mother at least two decades. Her brothers continue to assert that she died of a broken heart. They are probably right.

The conversation she and Mulder had on the church pew earlier this week immediately comes to mind. Can she live with the results of the decisions she has made? Were they the right ones? As she runs her fingers over the outer ridges of her mother's quarter, she silently prays for the clarity and strength that will be required to face whatever comes next. While she cannot predict the future, she does know one thing with absolute certainty: their son is not dead.

The dive teams won't find either body. She can't explain how she knows. She just does. With her hands buried deep in her pockets, she takes one last look at the churning waters below before turning and heading back towards the chaos. There is nothing left for her here.

Making her way back towards the warehouse in search of Mulder, Scully spots Skinner almost immediately. He's sitting in the back of an ambulance wrapped in a blanket speaking to Kersh and two other agents that she doesn't recognize. Skinner's eyes look tired and defeated, but he still manages to give her a nod and a slight smile. She returns the gesture just before disappearing behind a second ambulance. Words with the deputy director will have to wait. She needs to get out of the rain and find Mulder. As she navigates her way through the maze of tape and haphazardly parked emergency vehicles, she stops abruptly when she hears her name, turning to find Mulder walking towards her.

His stride embodies purpose and confidence, but as he gets closer, she can see the fatigue in his step and the concern in his eyes.

"I've been looking everywhere for you."

His brow furrows as he reaches out with one hand to lightly touch her shoulder, the other quickly finding the tips of her hair and side of her face.

"Scully, you are soaking wet, have you been standing out in the rain all of this time?"

Before she can respond, he's slipping off his jacket and draping it over her shoulders, pulling the hood up over her head in an attempt to protect her from the rain.

"I've been on the docks. They haven't located Spender or… or William," she says, her voice unsteady.

He swallows and nods, averting his eyes off into the distance as if he is looking for someone.

"Let's get out of here," he says as he takes her hand.

Neither of them speaks as he guides them through mayhem. She's surprised to see his silver Mustang up ahead and wonders how in the world he managed to move it without erupting World War III. Only Mulder could remove a car from an active crime scene and walk away unscathed. He unlocks the passenger door and places his hand protectively on the top of her head as she eases down into the seat. Moments later, she feels the car shift under his weight as he slides into the driver's seat, but she doesn't look at him. Her eyes are entranced by the rain splattering against the windshield — her mind on their son. He's out there. He's cold, wet, and has nowhere to go. And instead of looking for him, they are leaving. His words, spoken through Mulder, are still reverberating in the recesses of her mind.

"We can't protect him. No one can … let him go … he knows you love him."

A sickening feeling hits her in the pit of her stomach as Mulder puts the car into reverse and starts to drive away. Tonight, she is abandoning her son for the second time. The tears she has been holding back for the past several hours now flow freely. Mulder notices them but says nothing. Instead, he turns on the seat warmers and angles all the vents in her direction before reaching for her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers. It's not until his hand joins hers that she realizes how cold she is, but it's not just the cold that causes her tremble. The raw emotion brewing inside of her is paralyzing. She tries to speak but opens her mouth only to close it.

The first few miles are silent because neither of them knows where to begin.

The minutes continue to tick by until she can't take it anymore.

As wonderful as the heat feels as it hits her damp hair, skin, and clothes, she turns the intensity of it down to quiet the obnoxiously loud fan, not wanting to raise her voice to be heard.

"He's not dead, Mulder. Neither of them are."

It's not the most profound thing she could have said following the bombs she has dropped on him today, but it's a starting point.

"Scully…"

"No, Mulder, listen to me. I can't explain it. I can't explain how I know. I just do."

He's quiet for a moment, briefly giving her his eyes before he responds.

"Do you want me to turn around?"

"No."

Her voice is soft and raspy from the cold, but the answer comes easily, for the answers they seek are not at the bottom of the harbor.

Unable to look out into the dark, miserable night any longer, she closes her eyes. There is so much more she wants to say… so much that he deserves to hear but not here… not like this.

The drive home takes a little over two hours.

They finish it with their hands joined in silence.

---------

AN: As always, a HUGE thank you to my betas @kikocrystalball, @admiralty-xfd and @suilven19 for their edits and encouragement... because nobody gets there alone ;)

To follow the Cleaning Up After Chris Carter Series, click here. 

[steven-falls]

Steven Universe Future reviewed: Volleyball

Basic synopsis:  When Steven is unable to heal Pink Pearl, he travels with her and the Crystal Gem Pearl to ‘The Reef’ to find a cure. The two Pearls clash when Pink Pearl reveals it was Pink Diamond who damaged her. This leads to the Reef’s security protocol activating, and the two Pearls must gain a new understanding of each other and Pink Diamond in order to work together and escape.

Thoughts: The title of this episode, ‘Volleyball’, actually refers to Pink Pearl, who is given the nickname ‘Volleyball’ in this episode. I for one, think this nickname is absolutely ridiculous and refuse to acknowledge it as canon. I’d much rather just refer to her as Pink Pearl. Although Pink Pearl is a bit of a mouthful, so I’ll shorten it to PP. That’s right, I’d rather call a character PP than Volleyball.

The interaction between the two Pearl’s works; our Pearl’s trademark passive aggressiveness is at its best when it's paired with someone who’s completely clueless. I think Pearl does run the risk of becoming a bit too callous, her worst moment being when she tries to forcibly take PP’s ribbon wand from her. But this is largely balanced out by Pearl’s attempt to help PP despite her jealousy.

The two Pearls fuse and use their combined skills of Pearl’s sword fighting and Volleyball’s… ribbon wand. You know I think one Pearl is contributing more to this fusion than the other

Pink Pearl’ backstory is pretty reminiscent of Spinel’s backstory from the Steven Universe movie. Both had a close relationship with Pink Diamond, but were also essentially objects that Pink Diamond owned.  This objectification resulted in Pink Diamond damaging them psychologically, which is still causing them to suffer in the current day.

As a result, this episode doesn’t reveal much more about Pink Diamond’s personality that the movie didn’t. It does add an extra layer that Pink physically hurt one of her loved ones, but being preceded by the movie takes away some of the impact that this reveal would have had otherwise.

 ‘Volleyball’ is a lot better at tying in to the established continuity than the movie is, however. What’s revealed about Pink Diamond in ‘Volleyball’  explains what happened to her former Pearl and also sheds some light on Steven’s new power. Whereas, the reveal that Pink Diamond abandoned Spinel doesn’t really tie into anything because Spinel wasn’t even introduced as a character until the movie. This makes me question the point of the Spinel/ Pink Diamond dynamic being the focus of the movie, when it shares so many similarities to more important relationships that would go on to be explored in the series.

The similarities to the movie don’t stop there, as Pearl almost gets ‘rejuvenated’ in this episode, a process she already underwent in the movie. The fact that Pearl has recovered from rejuvenation before means that the scene where she almost gets rejuvenated again lacks any stakes. Steven’s already resolved that issue once, he can do it again.

 All he needs to do is fuse with his father to form a sex god to trigger Pearl’s sexual awakening. (Man, there is some weird stuff in this show.)

So initially Steven, Pearl, and the audience for that matter, thought White was the cause of PP’s injury. Now let’s unpack that for a second. Because, despite believing that White caused this horrible, irreversible injury to someone, Steven and the others are still willing to treat White as an ally without her ever facing any real recompense for her crimes. She hasn’t even been stripped of her leadership over Homeworld.

But then when it’s revealed Pink did it, it’s seen as another strike against her character. Look at the damage Pink caused in her selfishness that Steven now has to deal with!

It’s seems we as an audience are supposed to give White a pass for the things she did because she’s now trying to redeem herself. But we’re supposed to hold this grudge against Pink even though she too tried to redeem herself by starting that rebellion against Homeworld. 

‘Your mother’s Pearls never had the whole picture, one knew your mother was trying to change..’

There’s an acknowledgment here that PD changed for the better; but the way she’s being viewed in the present makes it seem her changing doesn’t matter. This is a stark contrast to every other character who’s gone through a redemption arc.

I’m just a little worried that the show is going to become a broken record when it comes to Pink Diamond’s character. Like, we already know that ‘Pink Diamond Bad’, we don’t need episodes to just keep reaffirming that. Obviously the reason they pile this on is because it acts as a trigger for Steven’s destructive powers. Going by the trends of the first few episodes, it seems the Crewinverse are planning on having Steven face trauma after trauma until he eventually shatters - either physically or mentally. I’m just hoping ‘traumatising Steven’ doesn’t become too formulaic or painful to watch.

Interestingly, Steven seems to be developing his powers in the reverse order to his mother. She had destructive powers first and developed healing powers later. Steven already has healing powers, but is now developing destructive powers.

I think this episode does have a lot of good elements when viewed in a vacuum. Its just when you notice how these elements fit into established trends in the series that you start to question them. The backstory between PD and PP is heart wrenching; but is similar to one we just had a whole movie explore. Criticising PD’s faults is valid; but is less so when the other Diamond’s actions are being swept under a rug.

I Don’t know why Steven’s unsure of his future when it’s clear he should go into medicine. He doesn’t even need to be qualified, he can just claim to be a doctor and lick his patients.

I wanted to close out this review with a positive note about how Pink Pearl finally got closure by coming to terms with her abuse. But even that’s not completely true, because she still has that whole being possessed for 8,000 years thing to deal with. Maybe in a future episode White will actually be confronted over this; which would address my complaints about how White’s faced next to no repercussions for her actions. And only then, will both Pink Pearl and myself, finally be able to get the closure we deserve.

Ah, the moon. The Volleyball of the sky.

[nadziejastar]

Thoughts on Soranort?

“Hey, I got an idea. Ask your heart. See if it’s got a clue.”

“Well…my heart was aching. That’s why I kept going.”

It was almost too much to bear. The sorrow—the pain, and so many other feelings. A suffering so much greater than anything he’d ever known. Hatred, sadness, anger, jealousy, fear, resentment, anguish, envy, uncertainty, pain, despair. Who did these feelings come from? Roxas? That woman? Those two people called me Ven—maybe him? Or someone else?

“Oh… Thank you, Sora’s heart, for pushing him right into our clutches. Aren’t hearts great? Steer us wrong every time,” Xigbar remarked, mocking as ever.

Personally, I don’t think he would have made a good Nort. But that’s why he was the hero.

Sora was targeted as a vessel because he had pain inside of him. The pain wasn’t really his, though. It was the memories inside of him, which didn’t even belong to him. That’s why I think he’d make a pretty boring seeker of darkness, from a story standpoint. He’s better suited as the hero. I think almost all the Norts were handled VERY poorly, though. The Dark Seeker Saga just turned out to be a huge flop in the end. It was supposed to be all about healing pain. Not just for the missing guardians of light. But the seekers of darkness, too. There was a reason they all got Norted, which KH3 did a VERY poor job explaining. It was because they all had pain that led them to abandoning their heart.

Ansem’s mouth twisted into a smirk. “If he wavers from the path we lay, we destroy him.”

“But in that case…we’ll have to find ourselves another vessel.”

Xigbar barked a laugh. Another vessel…, he says, as if it’s nothing. Just one piece of their grand, far-reaching plan.

“That is why we never have just one iron in the fire,” Xemnas replied matter-of-factly.

KH3 was supposed to be all about Xehanort’s search for a replacement vessel after Sora failed in KH3D. Vessels are not easy to come by, so “reserve members” shouldn’t even be a thing. I think the person they were supposed to be talking about in this scene was Davy Jones. He was a perfect vessel because he didn’t have a heart, but he didn’t die. He cast away his heart because it caused him pain. He would have been like the Beast in KH2, where they were trying to get him to join he organization. 

This world could have felt like it was relevant to the main story. But Davy Jones’ heart got little focus and all anyone cared about was the stupid black box, which isn’t even relevant in this game. The whole idea of the seekers of darkness becoming vessels because of pain got very little attention. When you defeated them in the Keyblade Graveyard, there should have been a sense of healing for each character’s pain and a sense of resolution to their story. The sad remix of the organization music was SO GOOD. Instead, most of them ended on a cliffhanger, which is absurd.

And then there was the heart that nestled close to mine. There, it continued to quietly encourage me. If he hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t be here now, standing in front of his grave.

Master, did you forgive me? Or maybe I haven’t been forgiven yet and I’m only still here so I can atone? I know there are no answers to my questions and no one has to forgive me for my sins. Even entertaining the thought of being forgiven is so presumptuous of me. A weakness.

The only vessel handled even semi-decently was Terra. His personal pain was given a lot of focus in BBS, so his story didn’t feel particularly incomplete… except when it came to Eraqus. I don’t feel Terra got proper closure with him. Terra didn’t even know if Eraqus forgave him, which is just sad. Terra’s messed up relationship with Eraqus was the whole reason he fell to darkness. It was his doubt that Eraqus truly loved him like a son that made him so susceptible to manipulation. It broke my heart how Terra was reluctant to hug Eraqus at the end.

“Not your concern.” With those parting words, Xehanort strode away. Eraqus slammed a fist into the floor as he watched him go.

Why did I fail to stop him? Is it my fault? Where did I go wrong? Is the darkness itself what beguiled him so? Must this plague steal my dear friend from me?

Then you got Young and Master Xehanort. In BBS, people kinda saw Xehanort as Lord Voldemort. People couldn’t see how Terra could trust him, because he was so obviously evil. But he was human, too. He was Eraqus’s dear friend. I’d be willing to bet it was some personal pain with Eraqus that led to Xehanort falling to darkness completely. Xehanort had no backstory, though, so it was hard to understand why he gave up or why he and Eraqus seemed so happy together in the end.

Ansem talked about some kind of betrayal, but I had no idea what he was even referring to here. 

Xemnas also had pain. He had Terra’s memories, spent years looking for Ventus in the Chamber of Waking. He was lonely, though this is never explored in any way.

I think Luxord probably joined the organization voluntarily. But why? He isn’t loyal to Xemnas. I doubt his original backstory was being some amnesiac Keyblade wielder from the age of fairy tales. He hinted at some personal pain due to “compulsive behavior”. I’m sure he had a sad backstory that caused him to join for his own reasons.

Why am I in the Organization? Well, I mean, there’s lots of reasons, but—oh, right! I wanted friends, right? Oh, no. Wow, actually no, that sounded way uncool but… now I’m thinking back on it and I’m just like, yeah, I guess it kinda was like that, huh.

Aside from the whole old guys’ club going on, it kinda seems like there were a lotta tight-knit groups in the Organization. Y’know, like Axel and Saix, Marluxia and Larxene, Zexion and Vexen, and Xaldin and Lexaeus? And I guess in the end, I hung out with the old guy a lot.

Yeah, so it’s not like it’s a big deal, seriously that’s it. I hate fighting and jamming out is way more fun. Sad stuff, painful stuff, why would I wanna do anything like that?

Let’s assume that Demyx was supposed to be a real member of the true organization instead of Xion (which is what I believe). His Character File story hints that he had pain and also that he became very close to Luxord. Which makes sense because they were some of the only members left after Castle Oblivion. Axel spent all his time with Saix, Roxas, and Xion. So, Demyx and Luxord really had no one else, and probably hung out with each other a lot. So, Demyx might have joined because of Luxord. But this is never explored in any way and Demyx is just a plot device to deliver Replicas.

SYMBOLISM Strelitzia is seen as the flower of freedom, and also represents immortality and paradise.

In early trailers, Marluxia had green eyes in the Rapunzel world, meaning he was not even supposed to be fully Norted before the final battle. So, I think he did join the organization of his own free will. But he had personal pain that led up to it. The loss of his sister. She said she’d carry him on her back, then his final boss form in CoM has him riding atop this strange woman figure. All very interesting. This is something that should have been wrapped up in this saga, though.

Sigh, it was so much better when I had no heart. When I didn’t have to worry about things like liking someone. Becoming fond of something is painful. That’s why those feelings were taken advantage of.

I think Larxene loved Marluxia and wanted to be by his side. She didn’t even want to regain a heart because it caused her pain. There should have been resolution to that at the end of KH3 instead of leaving it dangling.

Xigbar had pain, too. He was constantly haunted by his memory of Ventus glaring at him. You could tell that he was jealous of the bonds the other characters had. He commits suicide at the end due to the guilt he has. I would have said that his story was handled well if it ended with his suicide. It was pretty sad. But they reversed it and made it out to be a ruse. Xigbar was just faking his entire personality the whole time and was really Luxu all along. WTF!? I just can’t…

I wanted to be like you. I was jealous of you. Who was I exactly? Did I even exist? I’m just a puppet with no heart whose fake memories were planted in my head.

I was made, I’m artificial, I’m a fake. What do I need to become a real person? Or rather, was I a real fake? I fell into the dark and wandered the world of darkness.

Riku Replica’s story wasn’t resolved well, either. He spends all of CoM being tormented about not being the real Riku and that no doubt leads him to joining the organization. But then after he’s defeated, he gets no closure to his identity crisis. Instead, another “good” Riku Replica comes and rips the “evil” Replica’s soul out (WTF?) and then that story is over. It becomes all about Namine at that point. He sacrifices his only chance at life for her, which is kinda weird and depressing. I would have preferred if Riku Replica gained some kind of peace with being a part of Riku and then going home into his heart, like Xion did at the end of Days.

Whereas Ven’s worries and suffering were proof of his growth, his proclivity toward the light, Vanitas’s own misery was merely a pitch-black morass that brought with it nothing but pain.

We’re so different, but I could feel you every step of the way. I bet you didn’t notice me at all. What does this battle between us mean to you? You probably don’t have a clue that it means our hearts are intertwining. The fight itself doesn’t matter. What’s important is that our struggle makes us feel the same things. You hate me for trying to hurt your friend now, right? And I hate you right back for having friends at all.

Never once is any attention given to Vanitas’s pain. He despised Ventus and was jealous of the fact that he had friends. All the Unversed came from his negative emotions. Ventus told him they were the same and that he needed to come home inside of his heart, but…he doesn’t? Instead of finding some kind of peace by going back to Ventus, he just… disappears. 

The person who probably suffered the most was Axel. Because he’s the one who forgot the most. Being forgotten and forgetting, they’re both painful.

Saix’s pain turned out to be a joke. He couldn’t find some random girl he spoke to a few times, boo hoo, such a sad tragic backstory. He had to be quickly turned into a good guy before the epilogue, so he only joined to “atone” not because of any pain. His real pain was supposed to be about his relationship with Lea.

Cancer is ruled by the Moon, the planet of receptivity. It’s the zodiac sign related to feeling and emotions in our hearts. Cancer is, in many ways, the most sensitive and vulnerable sign of the zodiac. They feel deeply, but they’re not sure what to do about their feelings.

Emotions tend to play a dominate role in the lives of people born under Cancer. Naturally defensive and sometimes afraid of being hurt, they tend to put their heart and soul into all their relationships, and are very faithful, loyal and loving partners. Cancer people are extremely sensitive to matters of the heart. It is easy to hurt their feelings and they become deeply emotionally wounded when wronged, and can take a long time getting over it.

Also, I just really like the idea of Saix as a Seeker of Darkness. Cancers have very delicate hearts and are very emotional people who are vulnerable to pain. 

[choombata]

Part 9 - Secret Labs in the Desert

Friday, June 26, 2020 - Our players met for evening drinks at their usual haunt: Millie’s. During the week, another riot broke out. A crowd had quickly and suddenly amassed at City Hall, attempting to get in, but NCPD responded with deadly force. Millie noted that this one was similar to the La Croix incident: just a sudden mad rush at a specific target that seemed suicidal.

Turns out Millie has been digging into the Kaleidoscope mystery on her own. She had contacted a medtech named Jane Weyss with the info the players uncovered, and asked her to look into the nanomachines. Jane found some answers, but needed more help, so Millie asked the players to go meet Jane and assist her.

Our crew saddled up and moseyed over to Jane’s front: a pharmacy down on 22nd street. They walked in and introduced themselves as friends of Millie. Jane got down to business immediately: she had discovered that the Kaleidoscope nanomachines manipulate the neurochemistry of their victim in order to control their behavior, but she hasn’t yet figured out how it changed from just random, aggressive behavior like Deck suffered to more the directed, coordinated attacks like the riots.

Jane did, however, find out that just like most nanomachine designs, the Kaleidoscope nano has a chemical killswitch that can be used to deactivate it. When this specifically-formulated chemical is present in the bloodstream with the nanos, they interpret its presence as a “stop” command and (harmlessly) self-destruct. Much like a password or a secret command code. Jane could brute force this killswitch formula and figure it out on her own, but that would take a long, long time. If our players could just find what the killswitch formula is, she could skip right to the production phase.

Jane’s sleuthing turned up the creators of the model of nanomachines found in Kaleidoscope: a company called Locutis Pharmaceuticals. They had a lab out in the desert not too far from Night City, but it was abandoned after it was attacked by a rival corporation. If our crew could search the lab, they might find the formula for the chemical killswitch. The mention of Locutis Pharmaceuticals triggered a memory in Frogs, and he started shouting out its GPS coordinates in the desert.

In order to get to the lab, our players were referred to the Ace in the Hole bar: a hangout for ex-military pilots that fly AVs for hire. The players piled into their station wagon and drove over to check it out. Once inside, Heavy quickly made an ass of himself and ended up being fooled into drinking a shot of aviation fuel. 

The players tried chatting up some hotshot pilot who was asking for a hiring fee they could never afford. Luckily, they were interrupted by Hops, an incredibly kind and boisterous woman who likes a good adventure. She agreed to do the job for free, as long as they bring her a souvenir from the lab. After a few Human Perception checks in order to look the gift horse directly in the mouth, the players were satisfied that Hops seemed to be telling the truth, so they agreed. Hops took the players over to her AV-4 named Lurlene and they hopped on in.

Lurlene lurched off the ground, then sped off toward the location of the lab. It wasn’t long before Night City was faded to a distant glow on the horizon. Hops warned the players to be quick, as the desert is full of Nomads and not all of them are friendly to visitors. Hops’s constant referral to the players as “kids” made them question how old she was. She didn’t give them a clear answer, but her war stories indicated she must have been a veteran of the Second Central American War.

Lurlene touched down in the sands outside the derelict lab and our crew disembarked.

The lab was full of holes and collapsed walls, so it wasn’t hard to find their way in. There was also suspiciously fresh human activity in the form of bloody footprints throughout the hall. The players followed the footprints to their origin and saw they came from a room full of a noxious gas, with a hole in the floor leading into the lower levels of the lab.

They dug around the main floor, disarmed a few small traps laid by nomads and previous raiders, and shit in some non-functional toilets. Along the way they found a trucker cap with Icarus LLC’s logo on it, a callback to the names of corporations associated with Integral MedTech. They also found some clues indicating that the chemistry lab is down in the basement, past the fumes, and was likely where they could find the chemical killswitch they were after.

Finally, Ackbar uncovered a maintenance room with logs about the poisonous gas, and surmised that they could vent the gas if they could get the HVAC system back online.

She nearly lost her head a second time when grabbing a booby-trapped toolbox off the floor that was tied to a shotgun on a hair trigger. Luckily, she had learned since the incident in the Slammer, and the reinforced plates in her head stopped the buckshot.

After rallying the party, they branched out to the uncovered sections and found the parts they needed to restart the ventillation system, this time taking the traps a bit more seriously.

Tic Tac found a sample of an anti-cyberpsychosis drug, something she’d been after since she wants to replicate a treatment to distribute to those who need it. She also found a series of records that indicated Locutis Pharma was indeed making a prototype of Kaleidoscope before the lab was destroyed. 

It looked like Locutis was trying to make a nanomachine to treat cyberpsychosis, however their early results on test subjects only made them worse: subjects injected with the prototype became paranoid and aggressive. The records for this experiment stopped suddenly, indicating that the raid on the lab put a halt to any further development. It looks like this nanomachine, or possibly a derivative of it, was now appearing nestled inside doses of Kaleidoscope being sold in the streets of Night City.

Frogs found a pile of papers containing a termination slip that contained his name. He struggled with another flashback, but he still didn’t have an explanation for why he knew the location of this lab, or why he was fired from it.

Eventually after some more atmospheric digging, and some lucky looting of a microwave pistol by Bud, they found the equipment they needed to bring the HVAC system back online. Ackbar used her engineering prowess to put the pieces back together, and turned it on. It sputtered to life, and the noxious fumes blocking the hole to the basement were cleared.

Approaching the hole, Frogs spotted something revealed after the fumes cleared. Something that brought him joy and closure: his precious mop and bucket. Overwhelmed with joy, the memories came flooding back: he used to be a janitor here at Locutis. There was still a bit of a gap after his “termination”, and was not really sure how he ended up in Night City, but whatever, mop and bucket!

After the reunion, the party entered the hole in the basement where the bloody footprints came from. It was dark down there, and it looked like it had been turned over and looted many times. However, they spotted a case that contained the killswitch in the middle of the lab floor. Ivy drew the short straw and approached the case. When she got there, she noticed the giant pile of bloody bodies that was hidden by the darkness. She also heard a voice calling out, greeting her warmly.

A man emerged, completely nude, flesh torn and hanging off his bones, but fully augmented by cyberware. He was a human who underwent full-body conversion with cyber augmentations (you know, a cyborg), and despite his friendly greeting and ragged appearance, Frogs smelled stranger danger and started firing.

The party was swarmed by other deteriorating cyborgs and tried their best to fight them off, but it was Bud’s lucky discovery of a microwave pistol that clinched their victory. Bloodied but victorious, they scrambled out of the lab with the chemical killswitch and the Icarus LLC hat. Ivy decided to take the decapitated head of the main cyborg as a souvenir.

They rendezvoused with Hops who was waiting patiently in her AV-4. They climbed into Lurlene and flew off, giving Hops the hat as a token of their adventure. Not long before they took off, they found themselves being chased by air pirates who attempted to board their craft. Our solos’ adept use of the door-mounted miniguns made short work of their pursuers, and the crew made it back to Night City alive.

A job well done, they turned in the killswitch to Jane and competed their quest. She thanked them valiantly for their efforts, offered the sale of her black-market combat stims at cost, and promised to assist the team with any pharma-related efforts in the future. In the meantime, she estimated it would take her about a week to analyze the killswitch and come up with a method of production.

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