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wirewitchviolet · 2 years ago

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The actual gameplay of FF14

Over the course of last month, I sat down and wrote down a probably somewhat intimidatingly long plot summary/review for Final Fantasy 14, but I kinda made a point of not really getting into any detail about the actual gameplay. A big part of that if I’m really honest is that a HUGE portion of the gameplay really is just walking between quest markers and talking to people who send you off to other quest markers to talk to other people (or maybe talk to them again), and hell sometimes you don’t even walk, you just talk to someone three times in a row. It’s true for the main plot, it’s true for side quests, but I’m not going to estimate the overall percentage since, well, the bits with real gameplay meat are frequently things you’re going to do more than once and it really screws the count. The bits where you actually do stuff though are pretty engaging (at least, eventually, when you’re deep into the expansions, people kinda constantly talk about how the base game just really sucks. Anyway, I want to ramble about gameplay, so that’s what’s happening.

Progress Gating

So, FF14 is an MMORPG, and that means a big part of it is taking quests from people with big exclamation points over their heads. As a matter of convenience, these come in a few flavors. Standard yellow for minor side quests. Blue if there’s an interesting unique reward at the end, and with this jagged border meant to evoke a falling meteor if it’s a Main Story Quest. Some games gate progress behind level restrictions (which... in fairness this game also does, but it rains experience down on you just for progressing the story it should never be the limiting factor). Some games do regional reputation grinding, or scattering around several decently long quest lines to be tackled in any order. FF14 gates EVERYTHING behind milestones in the Main Story Quest progression.

There’s a dozen or so unique quests in each of the three starting cities, and a few points, mainly at the start of expansions where the path will briefly split and then re-merge after each branch is explored, but for the most part, there is this strictly linear unbroken chain of several hundred quests, stretching from “hey walk around the town you started in and talk to the important NPCs,” all the way up to whatever was added to the most recent patch for the most recent expansion, with no skipping around, and even though you’ll find handy guides like this one breaking down when you can first access basically everything that isn’t the MSQ line (aside from the periodic blooming of a dozen or so new sidequests as you travel to different areas), almost all of those unlocks really mean “while you’re doing MSQs with a minimum level requirement around here. These days these MSQs in particular have their experience rewards cranked up so high that even if you do nothing beyond plowing through them as quickly as you can, if you’re sticking with a single class you’re probably going to be at least a good 10 levels ahead of that curve at any given time. You’ll hover around par if you’re simultaneously leveling two or three classes at once (and on the other hand, I imagine people who decide to take advantage of those cash shop “story skips” probably get a rude awakening, since while the level progression requirements are normally a total non-issue, instantly checking all these off is also taking the best source of experience off the table).

Classes and Jobs

This is one of the kinder design elements to FF14. Every class in the game has a unique weapon type, and simply equipping a weapon used by a class switches you over to that class. Experience is tracked separately for each class, so just saving a gear set for each class to the hot swap list let’s you essentially have an alt of every class without ever having to log out, and all sharing the main plot progression, inventory, etc. etc. and letting you do that Maxed Out Save File thing if you like. Oh and speaking of gear sets, equipment has minimum level requirements too, so unless you think ahead and put on a bunch of pure-cosmetics stuff with no stats, every single time you join a new class for the first time, your level becomes 1, not meeting the requirement for anything you’re wearing, and your clothes dramatically just kind of explode off your body. This is never not hilarious and I pretty much guarantee you will forget it happens every time new classes become available.

There’s a couple other funny little quirks with classes. You don’t get really get to pick your starting town, it’s based on where the class quest giver for your starting class (initially) hangs out. If you want to punch guys, go sword and shield, or blast away with fire and ice, you’re in the desert. If you want a bow a pointy stick or healing spells you’re in the woods. If you want Pokemon or an axe, you’re in pirate town. If you want to run around with your arms behind you do flippy jumps and dual wield knives, that class is also in pirate town, but it wasn’t a thing at launch so the FF14 historical preservation society insists you start as something else and join it later. Incidentally, this means even if you join every class in your starting town, you can tank or you can heal, but not both. Fortunately this isn’t an issue until the first dungeons open up and at that point you’re hopping all over between the three. And of course with the non-combat classes the one that makes clothes from plants is in a different city from the one that gathers plants, but you really want to go all or nothing on those classes anyway.

The other funny little quirk, as per the little chapter heading here, is that FF14 has both Classes, and Jobs. Being a good 13 years old now, there’s a hell of a lot of weird artifacts kicking around as vestigial remnants of older versions of the game, and I think this is one of the weirdest. See, way the hell back when, there was this system where in order to unlock your classic Final Fantasy Jobs, you had to level the appropriate more-typical-MMO-class to a certain point, and also have two specific other classes at a certain level, with the cool new unlocked job blending stuff from each. They streamlined that out forever ago, and now you just get whatever class to level 30 and it kinda promotes up... but take a good look at this chart for how it used to work.

Arcanist was the base class that lead to both the Summoner and Scholar jobs. What’s super weird is, that’s still true. You get it to level 30, and two quests show up that open up jobs. Summoner is a straight progression from playing with pokemon like you’ve been doing, scholar replaces your pokemon with a fairy and now you have healer stats. But... experience gains are always tied to your class, so while these are two completely different jobs, they share experience and you can end up maxing out your level on one or the other without ever actually playing it. Quirky. Oh and all the ones added in expansions came after this change so like a Dancer is just a Dancer and they aren’t technically getting Softstepper experience or something.

Quests and Duties

So getting back to quests for a moment, like I said before, the vast majority really are just talking to people, that’s the whole quest. Now and then, mostly at the very very start in the game and when just compulsively doing every side quest, someone asks you to kill X number of monster Y like every other MMO, but those are vanishingly rare overall. There’s a lot of quests that force you to drop out of any party you may be in and generally drop everything else to have some little plot fight in a locked off instance, and later expansions sometimes give you control of one of your other party members for these instead of your actual character. Later expansions throw around things where you switch to first person to try and spot people walking around in the distance or knock them out with a blowgun or something, and there’s a few that have something actually unique and interesting going on. And then once in a blue moon, you get one that opens up a chunk of the real meat of the game, duties.

There’s basically two flavors of these. Dungeons and Trials. For dungeons, you’re forced into a party of usually if not always four people- 1 tank, 1 healer, 2 DPS, you get a nice little setpiece area where you run around, kill a huge pile of monsters, stopping a couple times to kill roughly 3-5 minibosses along the way, and the who thing gets introduced with a cool sweeping fly-through camera.

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Trials are just one big boss fight, early game ones giving you that same party of four fixed roles, basically everything from level 50 onwards doubling that up. Generally they’re bigger more complicated things with phase shifts and a unique soundtrack that shifts at the halfway point from just an instrumental thing to a more intense thing with lyrics. In both cases you have a time limit of an hour and a half to clear the thing, but if you aren’t just wiping constantly it’s honestly only like a 10-20 minute commitment.

Since you have to wait until you have the appropriate party for one of these, and you probably don’t want to just stand around by the entrance (unless you keep making the same mistake I did, hoovering up every little side quest as they appeared and having nothing to go do while I waited as a result), they came up with this clever little UI feature called the Duty Finder. One of these things unlocks, it gets added to a list in the menu. Either show up at the front door, or just select it out of the menu, and you can queue up your party hunting. It’ll automatically do matchmaker stuff in the background, and you can wander off to do whatever in the meantime, as long as it isn’t other instanced content.

Another neat thing with this is they bribe the ever-loving hell out of more experienced players to repeatedly go back and do old duty finder content. There’s eventually a little “roulette” menu with a dozen different flavors of content to pick from, with substantial daily rewards of experience cash and tomestones (I’ll get to those, don’t worry), and extra bonuses for whichever character type is in highest demand. So if you’re some newbie just trying to kill Ifrit for the first time, you queue up, 3 people trying to level up every class or do some endgame timesink or whatever get pulled from either the list of people who feel like doing old trials or whatever’s-needed for a bigger experience boost, tada, you have a full party, it’s most likely people who know how this fight works, and odds are they don’t want any of the loot drops. There’s a few other incentives too, including extra rewards when a new patch reworks something or it’s an obvious bottleneck, etc. Much like the main story quests constantly sending you back to the major cities and their outskirts all the way through the latest expansion, it’s a good system.

I do have a couple problems with it though. First it just sort of divorces these places from context. I’m off wandering around some exotic local dealing drugs for bugs or trying to win people’s triple triad cards or something, my roulette queue goes off, suddenly I’m in some cave full of poisonous plants. I barely remember this place, can’t recall what continent it was even on or why there was a reason to be here way back when. Also when you queue it notes what class you’re in and demands you switch back to it when it finds the party. If you haven’t switched out, and you don’t accidentally close the pop-up menu, you can join right in. Watching a cutscene? Whatever, you’ll get dropped off right before you talk to whoever to launch it after. But if you switched classes, perhaps to do resource gathering or mop up sidequests with a class you don’t play as much? There’s no drop what you’re doing and go option. You need to finish that cut scene or combat or weirdly long post-teleport load time, then hurry up and switch back to whatever class. And I swear they always pop up at the worst times. Oh and they’re currently retrofitting everything so you can skip all this and just roll in with 3 NPC pals.

And then of course there’s also Alliance Raids (like a dungeon but with 24 players and with a very theme-parky level of spectacle), Normal Raids (serialized bite-sized mini-dungeons and trials), and Savage Content (variations on the rest of this with the difficulty cranked up super high). And of course while I’m listing miscellany, normally all instanced content is “synced,” meaning your stats abilities and equipment are capped out at roughly the best they could be when you first met the requirements (plus a few levels of wiggle room), there’s a slightly hard to find option to turn off both that and the usual party composition requirements at the cost of getting no experience, which is nice if you want to go back for sub one minute kill times on old bosses to get that one rare drop you need, or if you want to play a blue mage in a dungeon/trial at all.

Class/Job/Role Breakdowns

When you unlock the first dungeon, you also unlock a set of tutorials on how playing in a party works, which are worth doing because the reward for sitting through them all is some nice gear sets and a ring that gives a huge experience bonus at low levels.But they also give straight up terrible advice, especially to tanks, and should not be trusted. Here’s how you actually play.

When you have all of a class’ abilities unlocked, generally speaking you have a chain of 3 attacks that do bonus damage when landed in order, another that does area damage (the magic number of how many enemies you have to hit at once to be worth using it is 3), a long range attack option (good for when you have to hang back because the floor is lava), something that gives you a defense bonus for a bit, something that debuffs a boss temporarily and/or cancels certain boss attacks, some big splashy thing you can use for a big damage spike every two minutes or so, and generally some kind of quick dash/hop sort of thing. Most of these abilities are on this shared global cooldown, where you use an ability and (most) of the rest get locked out for I want to say a 2 second window, roughly, and there’s a nice generous input window where you can queue up your next action about 7/8ths of the way through that timer. Your other abilities tend to all be on their own independent timers or spend some meter or other to use, and you can pretty reliably squeeze 2 activations in between the global ones.

At some earlier point in the game’s life, there was this whole system of bosses being strong and weak to certain elements or blunt/slashing/piercing damage, D&D style, but they pretty much totally gutted that, so now it’s a game where every class just kind of has a perfect idealized ability rotation you just kinda commit to muscle memory and repeatedly tap it out in a steady rhythm, while focusing all your mental energy on the actual real core gameplay: Dodging attacks with increasingly ridiculous and convoluted tells. And at later levels when the game decides to seriously grow some teeth the design really does go all in on making that interesting. But anyway, there’s also this big pile of classes worth talking about.

First we have the tanks. As is standard for MMOs, these are the stupidly hard to kill people whose main job is to trick all the enemies into attacking them and only them, and FF14 tanks are kind of hilariously great at this. Another weird old design artifact is they used to all have an ability to shift into an aggressive stance for bonus damage, and another to shift into a tanky stance where they just get all of the monsters’ attention forever, so long as they actually hit them. At some point they dropped the aggressive stances, presumably because players have a mindset of more damage=finish faster=optimal and weren’t using the important one. So now everyone just has this dedicated ability that toggles on “the rest of the party doesn’t die instantly” mode, which will stay on forever and there is zero downside to keeping it on (well, until you’re doing higher difficulty stuff with two or three tanks and you need to take turns taking all the hits). New tanks often figure there has to be some sort of catch and don’t keep it on. New tanks also get the advice from that bad tutorial to open combat by hitting one enemy out of a group with a ranged attack to peel it away... but enemy AI in this game doesn’t do peel-aways. As soon as any given monster in a group gets hit with something, they all get angry and follow their standard attack priority of: Tanks if a tank hit them any time at all recently, anyone else who’s been hitting them a lot, healers, whoever’s closest. So, used a ranged attack, the healer gets mobbed. Instead, you just run in and do area attacks.

All four tanks kinda play exactly the same. Warriors get self-heals, Paladins get parries, Dark Knights get vampirism, and Gunbreakers get lots of fiddly little abilities, but if there’s a boss, you just get their attention, stand by a wall so they look away from everyone else, and use your many defensive skills when a big attack’s coming. For everything else, you spam area attacks, make yourself a living katamari sweeping up every enemy up to a locked door/boss room, pop defensive stuff so you can take the heat, and stand there in your horrible clump of like 30 monsters doing more area attacks.

Then we have healers. Healers heal tanks when they’re about to die, the whole party after a party-wide attack hits, toss out various buff spells as needed, and otherwise use their super boring attacks. Generally instead of the three hit combo stuff, the have a single target damage spell, an area damage spell, and a damage over time spell, and that’s it. Fortunately a well-played tank will keep them on their toes by doing super reckless stuff like forming a 30 monster katamari at a full sprint. Oh and sometimes someone fails to dodge, then you use swiftcast, revive, and a big heal.

The weird thing of course with healers is they all have a range of healing spells with increasing HP restoration and MP costs but you kind of never want to use any of them. Once you have all your abilities unlocked you have those slow expensive heals, but then like 6 or 7 other abilities on independent timers for instant heals, regeneration auras, and so on to use instead. White mages are super vanilla, but their area spell stunlocks things too. Scholars have weird restrictions on when they use what but fairy pals as backup healers. Astrologians do tarot readings to pass out weird semi-random buffs. Sages heal people by shooting monsters with flying laser cannons and mostly do stuff to tweak the targeting and efficiency.

Then there’s the direct damage types. All they do is do their optimal damage rotations and dodge stuff, but their damage rotations are all extra convoluted and make you look at meters/timers/pop-ups to distract you from the dodging.

We’ve got spellcasters. They have to stop moving while casting spells, and learning the little window when one is finished and the next hasn’t started where they can slide over a bit. Black mages get speedy fire spells that make them actually have to care about MP, something nobody else but healers when things are going bad has to do, slow ice spells that regenerate MP, and a bunch of buffs and weird conditional things popping up to throw that rhythm off. Red mages have quick lame spells and super slow big damage spells, but every other spell goes off instantly. Plus they’re balancing out two elemental meters, sometimes have fast high damage spells, and periodically dash into melee to do physical attacks and shift into high power mode. And they can heal and revive (with instant casts even) so sometimes they’re back-up healers. Summoners just have a nice rotation of throwing pokemon at people and could be played blind but you just leveled them by leveling scholar and don’t know how they actually work.

We’ve got melee folks. Sometimes they have to be behind or to the sides of things, bread and butter attack combos are extra long and weird. Monks have faster cooldowns, and break the sequence of their rotations to power up big finishers. Dragoons over-commit with jumps and have to think farther ahead on positioning. Ninja have a little spell system that wedge like 9 abilities into 4 inputs, and one of those is a personal haste spell. Samurai have multiple power ups that stack and unlock different finishers. Reapers didn’t get introduced until Endwalker. I think they have like a demon mode with different moves a quarter of the time or something.

And we’ve got ranged folks. They just kinda juggle like a dozen independent cooldowns. Bards have a bunch of buffs and debuffs that maybe actually call for changing up their strategy conditionally. Machinists get grenades and robots they maybe have to think about placing in good places, and so many buttons to mash. Dancers have most of their abilities becoming available as a 50/50 thing after using other abilities and big buffs that require quick games of Simon.

Oh and Blue Mages are Blue Mages, which means they’re so broken they can’t join parties without turning off those balance restrictions and have a fun minigame of hunting down their 100 different potential abilities and deciding which to use.

Oh yeah, there’s also limit breaks. Standard FF game concept, slow building meter, does something cool. When maxed out, healers can pop it to revive everyone and fully heal them, tanks can pop it for 15 seconds of party-wide invincibility. Everyone else gets huge damage spikes. Everyone shares the one meter, but when starting a new boss fight it resets, so in dungeons you shouldn’t just try to save it all for the last boss.

Absurd Boss Mechanics

As previously stated, the real meat of the gameplay is just getting your personal damage optimization responsibility down pat so you can focus on dodging absurd things from bosses. At its simplest, FF14 was, I believe, in on the ground floor of that thing I think all MMOs, and a lot of other games do now where bosses telegraph their attacks with big glowing circles rings and pizza slices that appear on the floor, showing you where not to stand. It’s a little weird in that the timing on when not to be standing there is synced to when the floor stops being orange, with actual attack animations still playing out well past the point where not only is it safe to stand there again, but there might be a follow-up before the animation’s done where that’s the only safe spot. But as the game goes on, it’s far from just glowing orange pizza slices.

We’ve got attacks that target whoever has aggro and do fatal splash damage to anyone nearby. Attacks that distribute their damage among everyone nearby, so everyone has to huddle together and distribute the load. Attacks with absurd knockback sending you halfway across the arena, sometimes chained together so you have to triangulate pool shots where you’re the ball and the pocket is the one spot you won’t fly off the edge of the arena. Icy floors. Attacks whose tells appear only in the chat log. Attacks whose telegraphing slowly spreads over a huge area until they go off making it harder to judge what’s safe. Big meteors that fall from the sky and do good chunk of damage if they land on someone, but kill everyone if nobody slows their decent with their face. Attacks whose telegraphing straight up lies to keep things spicy. Gaze attacks you have to face away from.

Then there’s the weird stuff. Hop on this boss’ back when it turns into a plane or die in the strafing run, then do a QTE to dismount. Get knocked a few miles into the air and dodge energy balls on the way down. Play DDR. Play Wheel of Fortune solving for damage tiles. Have a math problem. You know that thing where the character follows a line and has to turn down every side path it sees? That but then there’s an explosion. I just fought a boss where first half the party grows snake heads with petrifying gazes out of their shoulders, the other gets targeted with acid bombs, and some non-shoulder snakes need taking out with a one two combo of these without any friendly fire. Then another variation where you need to avoid killing the snakes until the end so you can use them as cover from 360 petrification on upgraded shoulder snakes and everyone needs to share the acid bath and distribute the damage. Then there’s a whole second fight against the same guy where you have to play some kind of alchemical combination magical DNA matching minigame to create the right minibosses to have pokemon battles on your behalf. The whole back half of the game is this process of dying to something truly ridiculous you’ve never seen before, having to work out the rules it follows on the fly, and then coming up with some elaborate dance choreography to get around it. Or, you know, put off the real hard mode stuff and come back with level limits off and way better stats.

Syncing, Gear, and Tomestones

One thing I think is kind of neat with FF14 is it’s designed in a way where you don’t really have to worry about equipment until you hit the bleeding edge of current content. Well and before the first time credits roll, when you just have to make do with whatever random stuff drops in dungeons and it’s outdated like an hour later. As soon as you beat the final boss of the base game or any expansion though, you get access to a fresh new set of tomestone gear. Like way too many games these days, FF14 has like 50 different kinds of currency. Most of these don’t ever really matter. You spend gil on fast travel options, buying a house, and I guess whatever people throw up on the market board. Doing tribal side quests for monstery pals gives you their personal currency, but you get more than enough to get all their unique rewards as soon as they unlock. Then there’s tomestones. Basically, they’re eBooks from a dead civilization and this one merchant loves them. Said merchant also stocks absolutely ridiculously good gear sets that become available as soon as you finish the base game or any expansion. Basically anything you do spits a bunch of tomestones at you, you trade them for parts to a gear set, that gear set is hands down far and away better than anything else you have access to until you’re a bit over halfway through the next expansion. And even then, you’re probably good until you finish that one and access new tomestone gear. So more often than not, you’re decked out in that, and can ignore all the loot drops or craftable things you see unless it’s a good look and you want to do the whole glamour thing.

This isn’t true though any time the expansion you just finished is the current one. Then it’s a damn mess. There’s 3 different flavors of tomestone, two of which only drop if you’re at the level cap, one of those has a cap on how many you can snag per week. Rather than just trade them in for the good stuff, you get loot from the hardest bosses around, or the best possible crafts, pay some mix of fancy tomestones and weird little bespoke tokens to upgrade that, and OK, there’s your best stuff... until the next patch when there’s a tougher set oft toughest stuff and the whole rigamaroll gives you slightly better gear. Honestly it’s not good enough to really matter, UNLESS you’re doing the hardest content in the game, in which case the absolute best stuff means attacks that would instantly kill you might leave you at like 7 HP with some awful debuffs instead. 2 chances over 1 chance ain’t nothing. OR you can ignore it all, wait for an expansion to drop, and tada, the absolute pinnacle of this one can be just bought outright with tomestones that rain down from the sky.

There’s also ultimate weapons with like 7 step upgrade paths after every expansion that require a truly astounding amount of grinding and jumping through hoops and... are instantly outdated if you just skip’em and move on to the next expansion. They glow though.

This whole weird mess of endgame content also causes this weird issue where gear has both a minimum level for your character to be able to equip it, then an item level on a scale that bloats up absurdly. Like the current level cap is 90, then the best gear is item level 635 or something, at this exact moment. In the base game, those numbers stay even. Which of course is why when you’re getting bribed to do early game stuff, we have the level-sync thing to pull you back down to where you’re balanced. Of course, it’s also common wisdom for RPGs that you don’t just start with all your cool abilities, you get them spread out as you’re leveling up. And this really really sucks here.

In the lowest level dungeons in FF14, not only do you not get access to the things that make your class unique and interesting, you don’t even get your 3 hit combos. You run through a whole dungeon with like, attack #1, attack #2, and a whole bunch of greyed out buttons. It’s not absolutely terrible because again, the fundamentals are all about managing monsters’ attention and learning to dodge things, but it’s still pretty darn dull. And there are whole facets of some classes that just don’t exist until level 60. Or 70. Or 80. You end up getting meters that build up, but not the abilities you spend them on, or things that eventually activate power-up states but for now just do a marginally-worth-it extra splash of damage. You’re kinda forced to pick classes, then spend hundreds of hours leveling them to find out if you like what you eventually get. Then you do a roulette and you’re back in low level hell again.

Travel

This is getting long and I’m getting tired, but you start the game on foot, which sucks. Later you get mounts which are at least a bit faster. Then as you get into expansions, in each new area there’s a bunch of collectable things where you learn the wind patterns. A bunch are just scattered across each map, then a bunch come from side quests, one from a main quest. Collect them all, and you can fly on that map. It’s a nice little gameplay loop. Problem is they decided to retrofit flight into the base game after they added it, and rather than make you go collect currents, they just let you fly everywhere from when the credits first roll to when you first set foot in the first expansion’s maps. Where flight is really really nice to have as map design is suddenly very 3D and convoluted.

Anyway you can teleport to basically anywhere you’ve been and should, it’s cheap.

The freaking Gold Saucer

Remember that casino from FF7? It’s just straight up in this game. Chocobo racing and all. And the card game from FF8? That’s here too. So, those are big time sinks.

Think that covers everything? Oh. There’s crafting. It’s the same as every other MMO’s crafting but with like combo setups so it feels like real gameplay at least. Mostly just good for making better crafting gear, but also for playing dressup or decorating your house.

#Final Fantasy 14 #ff14 #Final Fantasy XIV #ffxiv #oh some quests make you say things to people. Like in the chat box. In front of everyone. That's fun

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the-oricami-curio · 2 years ago

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Kilt of Consequence

Wonderous Item, Rare

(requires attunement)

Legends tell of a skilled seamstress, travelling through the the forest on a cold winter night. Though her coat was warm, it wasn't enough to keep the bone chilling winds fully at bay. Cold and dreary, she didn't think her predicament could get any worse, until she heard the howls. Running through the woods to escape the hungry creatures, she quickly found herself lost. Fearing she would never make it out of those dark woods, she saw a light through the trees, and found herself a Wyldewood tree. Beneath its canopy grass grew, flowers bloomed, and the temperature was just like an early summer afternoon. Though now safe from the frigid night, the beasts that lurked within the shadows could still come for her.

Using the leaves, twigs, and wood of the tree, she managed to make a magical kilt. It's purpose was to protect herself from the creatures that stalked just beyond the tree line. After making it out of the woods, and back to her shop, she perfected the garment best she could. No one knows where the kilt is now, but many believe the seamstress returned to the Wyldewood tree, to leave the garment to aid those who found themselves lost in the wood.

Charming Chance. While wearing this kilt, you can cast spell Charm Monster, forcing the target to make a DC 15 Wisdom saving throw, becoming charmed on a failure. If the target succeeds on their save, you must immediately make a DC 15 wisdom save, becoming charmed by the target on a failure.

Once you have used this feature, you cannot use it again until after a long rest.

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newagesispage · 2 months ago

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U R awesome , Morgan Fairchild!!!

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Has there been a definitive film about Eleanor Roosevelt and her own life? Wouldn’t Joan Cusack be great in that?

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The Covid vaccine is 95% effective in saving your ass. ** Studies now show that with the last administration’s handling of Covid and possibly steering people away from proper care, caused much harm. From July 2021 to April 2022, it is said that about 234,000 died unnecessarily.

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Hooray! Randy Rainbow is back with more election funnies.

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Grotesquerie looks interesting. With yet another Ryan Murphy show we have Niecy Nash, Courtney B. Vance and Travis Kelce.

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REO Speedwagon is retiring. I admit that I didn’t know they were still together.

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Has anyone caught the ‘people turning into their parents” ad from progressive that involves focusing on the weather. I have known those people.

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The Bibi files from Alex Gibney and Alexis Bloom apparently has explosive footage of Netanyahu.

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Season 3 of Monster will focus on Ed Gein as portrayed by Charlie Hunnam.

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Ridiculous RFK Jr. Sued to get on ballots, sued to get off and caused ballots to be quickly reprinted. The spoiled rotten brat seems to think nothing of all the money it cost to cover his whims. Another narcissistic swiss cheese brain UGH!! ** Now, RFK Jr. Is embroiled in a possibly too close relationship with reporter. ** The man is also under Federal investigation for the whale tale from a decade ago. Didn’t his daughter break the story?

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The far right in Germany has won their first state election since WW II. Why is it that this world can only go so long before all the hate bubbles up again?

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Hotel workers went on strike. ** 96% of the union voted to go on strike at Boeing. ** Boeing has suspended thousands of employees. ** Most unions back Harris but the Teamsters will not endorse a candidate. The majority of Teamsters do seem to back Trump. The Police union endorses Trump. He supports the police having no prosecution for their actions.

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Eric Swalwell wears his jeans a little too tight.

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The NFL is back. Deshaun Watson, QB for the Browns has been accused of sexual assault again. The Vikings are looking great. ** Kendrick Lamar will play the 2025 Super Bowl halftime show.

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Looking at facts, we now see that the U.S. recovered faster than any other country. Thanks Joe Biden!!

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Everything is a conspiracy theory when you don’t understand how anything works. - Kentucky

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The Emmy’s came and went. On the creative arts Emmy’s winners included Maya Rudolph, Jim Henson Idea Man, SNL, the Daily Show, Only Murders in the building, Dick Van Dyke: 98 years of magic and Conan O’Brien must go. Yes!! Letterman also won for his Mulaney interview and Alan Cumming took the mantle from RuPaul for reality host. ** The big night was hosted by Dan and Eugene Levy and they were awesome! It was great to see Kaitlin Olsen and Rob McElhaney. My best dressed were The Levy’s, Quinta Brunson, Ana Sawai, Aja Naomi King, JB Smoove, Holland Taylor, Ayo Edibiri, Hannah Einbinder, Lisa Ann walter, Meryl Streep, Zuri Hall, Robin Roberts, Jodie Foster, Catherine O’Hara and Lamorne Morris who won!! I love to see the men just as stylish as the ladies. ** Jean Smart got a standing O when she won. ** The Daily show and Baby Reindeer won and The Bear and Shogun won big. ** I was so excited to see Meredith Baxter. The Governor’s award went to Greg Berlanti. ** Hacks was a bit of a surprise and yeow!!

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6 Hamas leaders were charged by the justice department.

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I hate Taylor Swift – Trump

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Perry Farrell and Dave Navarro of Jane’s Addiction got into it on stage and it was caught on tape. They cancelled the rest of the tour. Farrell’s wife said that her husband was upset about the sound levels. Word is that things only got worse back stage.

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Selfish Gov. Huckabee does not want help for new Mom’s in Arkansas. It is the only state that hasn’t used extended Medicaid to new Mom’s. Of course, she also told us that Harris has nothing to keep her in check since she has no biological children. So Huckabee and Trump really believe they are humble?

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In sexual assault news: Francis Ford Coppola has sued Variety for their article about his friendliness with his young female crew members. ** Sean Combs was indicted for human trafficking and lots of other grossness. The alleged pig is on suicide watch when he was not released from jail. This will probably make ‘freak off’ a part of our lexicon. ** Eminem, in the Death of Slim Shady, throws in lines suggesting Combs had a hand in the deaths of Notorious B.I.G. and Tupac. This is not the first time these allegations have been heard. ** Mohamed Al-Fayed is accused of being a long- time predator at Harrod’s. About 20 women and girls are accusing him of abuse and it is said that Harrod’s covered it up. The accused died last year at the age of 94.

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How disrespectful was that Trump voter to call Biden, “an old fart?” And Biden just laughed it off like the good sport that he is. ** Did Janet Jackson really say that Harris had a white father? It turns out that I gave Ms. Jackson way too much credit thru the years. I thought she was more of a voice of reason. ** The Trump campaign put out an ad about voting in Georgia but the pictures were of Russia’s Georgia. Of course! ** After meeting with a vaping lobbyist: “I saved vaping”. - Trump

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Brett Favre has Parkinson’s.

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Elon Musk looks like the inside of a Halloween mask. - Seth Meyers

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Tim Meadows will star in CBS’ DMV. Other new shows coming at ya is Eternally Yours about vampires and Area 5 , about the military installation in Nevada.

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Moo Deng, a pygmy hippo born in July has caused quite a stir at the Thailand zoo. The baby has doubled the zoo traffic.

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Molly Ball, political reporter has sure gotten all dolled up.

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Did ya catch New York After Dark with Jost and Che?? It was awesome. More please! ** Did ya catch Fight Night yet?? Don Cheadle and Kevin Hart make a great team. I think Kevin Hart and Charlie day would also be e great pair. Let’s put them together in a buddy or long- lost relative project.

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I was unaware that republicans loved nude modeling so much. I guess Melania knows her people. Democrats would never put up with nudity?? What?? Were republicans the ones standing up for Maplethorpe??

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Iran and Russia are really fucking with our elections.

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North Carolina has problems with their republican candidate for Gov., Mark Robinson. The current Lt. Gov. seems to be a piece of work with his links to porn. He allegedly calls himself a black Nazi and wishes to own slaves. He calls abortion genocide yet he and his wife had an abortion. He rails against porn but frequents the local shops for pleasure. He calls the holocaust, “hogwash.” Does he think Helene is retribution? Where do they find these guys? All that seems to matter is, “Hey, look at me.” It does not matter how vile the human is, they just want the headlines and the hate. Just like Scary Clown 45, these folks do everything they rail against. ** I don’t not believe him, I don’t believe him. - JD Vance

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Gretchen Whitmer wondered if Trump knows the difference between a Phillips and flat head screwdriver. ** Trump and Musk seem to hate a woman with power. What do they against strong, self -assured women?

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The stock market is at a record high!!!

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The Room Next Door with Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore is getting a lot of buzz. They were adored in Venice.

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Christian nationalist, Gabriel Rench has some thoughts: “Faith is the ideal moral doctrine and principle for a thriving society.” **He believes only Christians should run for government positions. He tells folks that anyone else is God’s enemy. ** I do not know what country he thinks this is but I guess this is his own little final solution.

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Looking forward to Lukas Haas, Nicolas Cage, Li Jun Li, Cameron Britton, Lamorne Morris, Brendan Gleeson and Jack Huston in Spiderman: Noir series!!

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Bille Jean King will receive the congressional gold medal!! The women of NASA that have come to be known as hidden figures, Katherine Jackson, Mary Jackson, Dorothy Vaugn, Christine Darden and all the “human computers” have also been given the congressional gold medal.

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In Knoxville, Tn, the highest peak in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park is changing its name. Clingan’s Dome, named after a General in the confederacy will now be the Cherokee name Kuwohi. The place has always been important to the Cherokee. The trails were created by their ancestors.

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Oh boy!! It’s is just about Steve Kornacki time!!! I still miss Tim Russert though.

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I never realized that Trump tried to buy the Buffalo Bills in 2014. He offered a billion but was turned down. It is now being looked at with his NY lawsuits in regards to his business practices. Seems it had a lot to do with Trump pitting the USFL against the NFL. ** If I’d bought the team, I wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing (running for office). - Trump

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When someone lies to you 30,000 times in 4 years and you still believe him, you’re in a cult. ** Trump is back and forth on abortion. He also seems ready to legalize weed. Republicans are for that? ** Trump seems to remind me of Francis Walsingham in the 1580’s. Money people are so threatened by the rise of the merchant or working class that they seem to lose their shit and wreak havoc. Those with all the wealth cannot deal with change. They claim they want new ideas but they really just want smoke and mirrors and status quo. They have no idea what an average person goes thru. ** Some are upset that Trump finally admitted he lost the last election. There are also some upset that Vance admitted that they create scenarios to draw attention to what they want to highlight. Musk and Vance sure seem upset that nobody is taking shots at Harris. WTF? ** The people in this world have very different views as to what democracy is. ** Trump claims he was on Oprah’s last show and he was not.

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Trump, ever the snake oil guy is selling coins and crypto now. How Presidential. The man signed an American flag. Sick!! So, look out for World Liberty Financial where Trump has put former inmate, Zachary Folkman in charge. ** Laura Loomer is a name I wish we hadn’t heard. She gave a big FU to the 9/11 victims by attending the anniversary with Trump. ** The woman is banned from Door Dash. ** 17 staff members of Reagan’s old cabinet have endorsed Harris. ** Trump supporters are really trying to live like it is 150 years ago. They love the good old racist days so much, they seem fine with no progress in this country. Will he succeed in taking us back to the days of yore? The racists are up to their old tricks.

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Bitcoin seems like a scam. - Trump

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The Presidential debate took place and we probably won’t have another. I really don’t think we need it anyway. The undecides think they need to know more but they can look it up. She came at him so human with a friendly handshake. Being human seems to throw him. She kicked his ass in what wasn’t really a debate. It takes an educated, proud, confident woman to call him on his bullshit. He had no clear reasoning or policy thoughts. Kevin McCarthy thought he did great. The Springfield, Ohio crap and other disturbing craziness has been going for weeks. The town itself is now filled with Nazi’s and Proud Boys. It is like watching an old episode of Little House or the Waltons where the ignorant back woods racist people come down from the hills. Is it 2024? ** I have concepts of a plan. - Donald Trump ** Why do polls show that people think Trump is better on the economy when our economy is doing better now?? Numbers are up across the board. ** He has whined ever since that the moderators screwed him, that she got the questions ahead of time and that he won. um.. Ok.

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The Haitian restaurants have been packed in Springfield, Ohio. Let the words of hate bring prosperity to those he disparages. ** Why won’t Vance and Trump leave this alone? Are they 12? Just because it is on tv or the internet, does not make it true. I am sure Springfield never thought they would be ground zero for all this hate. Trump is telling rallygoers that the Haitians have to leave. JD Vance is a fucking Senator representing Ohio. I can’t think of too many jobs where one can be so racist and be such a liar and your job is safe.

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A Haitian just happens to be in charge of the investigation into the Trump assassination attempt.

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When people ask me, “What’s gonna happen if the flip- flopping laughing hyena wins?” I say, “Write down all the addresses of the people who had her signs in their yards. Sooo.. When the illegal human’ locust ‘need places to live, we’ll already have the addresses of their new families who supported their arrival.” - Bruce Zuchowski, Sheriff of Portage, Ohio. ** People are already filing complaints. ** I do notice where the Trump signs are because I want to know where the racists live. I don’t want to harass them. I just want to avoid the fuckers.

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Finland is teaching civics. Children are taught in school from a young age to discern fact from fiction. Media literacy and critical thinking are so important. Go Finland!!

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We really need to take a look at the 1986 law that won’t allow us to have a firearm tracking system. What?

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Does anyone watch Harvey Brownstone? The usually older guests are exhausted by the time he reads all their credits. Hooray for the respect he shows the stars!!!!

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Just think: If Americans were better informed and knew how to do research then the candidates would not have to spend so much money. Just think of where that money could do some good.

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When a child kills an animal for fun, we fear mental illness. When an adult with the capacity to reason does it, we call it sport. - Seth McFarlane

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Kathy Bates is awesome in the new Matlock. More Colleen Camp please!!!! Add her to the show!!!!

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What is it about zealots? Did we learn nothing from Carrie? The majority of war and many of the true crime stories somehow hark back to people who cannot reason out their religious zealotry. Things become so severe that they box themselves into corners that they can’t get out of. From Hezbollah to hard core evangelicals to unrealistic strict expectations at home in isolation, things rarely turn out well.

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Questlove will direct a Doc about Earth, Wind and Fire.

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A cousin is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost. - Marion C. Ganetty

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Saw an interview with Dean Stockwell where he said he was not proud of his performance in Compulsion. What? That is one of my favorite performances. Hmm.

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Vaccinate if you are able. And measles are back? We are not that dumb. Are we?

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I love it when shows like ‘Who do you think you are’ and ‘Long lost family’ combine. When a show looks up ancestors and the subject gets to meet that discovered human blood line, it’s great!

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The Elizabeth Montgomery magical humanitarian award goes to David Selby.

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Israel raided and shut down Al Jazeera’s bureau in the west bank.

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The PGA tour really fucked over the 9/11 justice organization. Follow the money!

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Oh Boar’s Head.. You disappoint me so with your filthy factory.

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If you’re very, very stupid, how can you possibly realize that you’re very, very stupid? You’d have to be relatively intelligent to realize how stupid you really are. This explains almost the entirety of Fox news. - John Cleese

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Some say Harris hasn’t talked about issues etc. What? These people must not be listening. I like what I have heard. I have been saying for years that we need to look at easier loans for first time home buyers. Isn’t the goal to house people? So many could have the dignity of their own home if they could just get a start. I like what she is talking about. Affordable housing could be here! She is suggesting a $25,000 tax credit for first time home buyers. Just listen people!! Not to mention her ideas for tax cuts for more than 100 million Americans and tax credits for parents of newborns. ** After the whiplash of what Trump says, some mention that Harris changes her mind. Becoming VP makes one representative of all the people. Learning and growing goes along with that. Obama and Biden left Trump a great economy after Bush screwed things up. Biden and Harris righted the ship AGAIN after Trump. Isn’t it strange that they call Harris a commie when Trump is the one with fluttery eyes for Putin? ** Harris mentioned getting rid of the filibuster. **

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Thank you, Mike McDonnell for saving Nebraska!!

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The last full- scale Kmart closed in NY.

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A 600- pound Pachyrhinosaurus skull was found in Alberta, Canada. It has probably been buried for 72 million years.

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The Menendez brothers don’t seem to like the new ‘Monsters’ show about them from Ryan Murphy and are helping with a Doc about them. Another Menendez show? Yikes?

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Truth is stranger than fiction: Check out the German books from 1889 and 1893 about Little Baron Trump. These were rediscovered in 2017 and have come around again.

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I find it quite ironic that the most dangerous thing about weed is getting caught with it. - Bill Murray

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Debbie Harry has thrown in with Cutler and Gross X Great Frog. The watches start at $655.00.

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Check out I am a voter .com for help with voting in your area.

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The Federal reserve cut interest rates 0.5%.

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Could intergalactic aliens bring us all together? Check out Luis Elizondo.

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Is it ageist to force all the elderly to remember a bunch of codes and passwords? I mean, old people have memory issues. Duh!

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Kaitlin Olsen is starring in the new show, High potential.

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DHL is suing Mike Lindell for $800,000 in unpaid bills in Minneapolis. They reached a settlement in 2023 for him to pay money in installments. He has only paid a small fraction so it’s back to court.

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Don’t like abortions? Ignore them like you do school shootings. - internet

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Ben and Jerry have a new Kamala’s Coconut jubilee flavor!!!

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So many used to think the “great unwashed” should not even vote. We need to teach people how to figure out the truth from fiction. It is a skill that seems to get farther away as we get too much info. We all deserve to be informed and we all deserve to vote. ** I do not get how someone can’t understand basic rights of the trans community or women and yet buy right into conspiracy nonsense.

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We’re planning to stack Trump’s next administration with people who will do his bidding. We will fire thousands of civil servants to give Trump a team that can give him total, unchecked power. -John Mcentee of project 2025. ** Another 2025 idea: All public school seniors will make a 2- year commitment to the country. Private school children are exempt. Fair?

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No matter who wins, we must work on getting wages where they can catch up with costs. So many folks I know never get vacations or even one night of luxury or relaxation. Life can be relentless when you have sick family members, special needs children or financial hardships every day.

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CW will become the new home of Nascar Xfinity.

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The people’s will, constitutionally expressed, is the ultimate law for all. - Abraham Lincoln.

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Tenet, a Russian backed media company has worked with Lara Trump, Brian Mast, Harmeet Dhillon, Kash Patel, Kari Lake, Vivek Ramaswamy and Tulsi Gabbard on their platform.

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Mar A Lago: I call it his retirement home. - Amy Klobuchar

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Tupperware has filed for bankruptcy. Boo!

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Is this true? A Dutch nursing home provides free rent to struggling students in exchange for assisting in the home. YES!

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Days alert: I remember OLTL having a soap within a soap and others may have done it but here we go with Body and Soul. ** Hooray Rafe is awake!! ** More Tina Huang and James Read please!!! ** Days fans have lost our John Black. Drake Hogestyn died on Sept. 28, just one day before his 71st birthday. I can’t remember seeing so many wonderful memories about an artist as I have seen from all his friends and co- workers. The man was so loved and seemingly the nicest guy around. Marlena and John over? It is inconceivable. ** And let’s not forget Drake Romero on Friends which may have had a bit to do with him as well.

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Season 33 of Dancing with the stars is here. Really? This season they have Phaedra Parks, Tori Spelling, Joey Graziadei, Jenn Trann, Eric Roberts, Reginald Vel Johnson, Chandler Kinney, Danny Amendola, Dwight Howard, Iiona Maher, Stephen Nedoroscik, Brooks Nader and Anna Delvey. There is controversy with Delvey but The Masked Singer shoved that in our face with Giulliani. It is probably here to stay because reality, competition and true crime are all mixed together.

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Fox refused to air Kinzinger’s speech from the DNC. That is a pretty high school move.

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Meghan McCain announced that she wants to run for office someday.

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Sarah Sherman did 2 episodes of General Hospital. Sweet!

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A trafficking ring has been caught that killed at least 118 eagles.

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Hunter Biden pled guilty to his tax issues.

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Republicans made a big deal out of some of Tim Walz’s fam liking Trump and that there were big secrets to reveal about Tim. His brother, Jeff, revealed that the VP candidate gets car sickness. Seems there was a break in the family about 8 years ago. How many times are we gonna hear that? Follow the pattern. It is always 8 years ago that family fractures seem to happen. * * It turns out that the Trump team that abused the Arlington cemetery worker were ID’d as Justin Caporale and Michael Picard. ** I get too much publicity. - Scary Clown 45

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A group representing 25 historically black colleges and universities, 10 pro football hall of fame inductees, Super Bowl champs, MVP’s and some of the first black athletes and coaches to break down the color barrier are endorsing Harris/ Walz.

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If I don’t win, the Jewish people would have a lot to do with that. - Trump

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Hey NBC.. Bring back the 8G band. What the Fuck?? My favorite late -night band is gone. Damn!!! ** The Tonight show will drop to 4 nights a week.

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Pro Life would be 20 Sandy Hook students starting college this fall. - the other 98%

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SNL will add Ashley Padilla, Emil Wakim and Jane Wickline to their roster. Chloe Toast is out. The premiere had Jean Smart and Jellyroll. Oct. 5 will star Nate Bargatze and Coldplay, Oct. 12 brings Ariana Grande and Stevie Nicks, Oct. 19 ‘s host will be Michael Keaton with Billie Eilish and Oct. 26 has John Mulaney with Chappell Roan. There will be a 3- hour live Primetime special on Feb. 16 to celebrate 50 years.

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Larry David is going on tour Sept. 20- Dec. 5 with A conversation with Larry David.

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The MTV VMA’s are still a thing? They just held their 41st. The best dressed to me were Lenny Kravitz, CoCo Jones, Tyla, Camila Cabello, Jessie Murph, Sabrina Carpenter, Cyndi Lauper, Taylor Swift and French Montana. Lil Nas X was yeow!! Taylor won a lot! Other winners included Sabrina Carpenter, Post Malone, Eminem, Kravitz and Megan Thee Stallion.

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A submerged car was pulled from Illinois’ Pecatonica river and a 50 -year mystery was solved. Apparently, victims Clarence Owen and Everett Hawley went missing in 1976 in a 1966 Chevy Impala. Found.

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Tyreek Hill was stopped and harassed by Miami Dade cops.

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I think an apology on Tucker Carlson is like a double negative, right? - Elle King ( re: her father, Rob Schneider’s apology).

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Kentucky judge, Kevin Mullins was apparently shot by Letcher Co. Sheriff, Shawn M. Stines at the courthouse after an argument.

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Have ya seen these hoof boots? It is so Tattoo you/ 1981!!

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I see there is another Jon Benet project in the works. Really? I don’t remember ever seeing one about the little girl in Cabrini Green that was killed about the same time. I mean, was she killed? Do we know who did it? Did she come through? Who knows because I have never seen more on the story after that first week.

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A previously unknown composition by Mozart was premiered in Germany at the Leipzig Opera. The music for a string trio was found in a German library.

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Is the View just way too polished now?

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Rudy G. has now lost his law license in NY and D.C.

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The White House held a West Wing reunion.

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I want a Kathy Griffin special!! She just had an implant in her vocal cord and her voice is at about 75%. She is strong and funnier than ever!

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R.I.P. Leonard Riggio, Russell Malone, Fatman Scoop, Helene victims, David Graham, Kathryn Crosby, Birmingham shooting victims, Nelson DeMille, Neil King Jr., John Cassaday, Arthur Gregg, Ruth Johnson Colvin, Linda Deutsch, Central and West African flood victims, Chicago blue line victims, James Darren, Tommy Cash, Apalachee shooting victims, Sergio Mendes, Will Jennings, Screaming Scott Simon, Lebanon explosion victims, typhoon Yagi victims, Tito Jackson, Barbara Leigh- Hunt, Kris Kristofferson, John Ashton, Warren Wilson, Drake Hogestyn, Chad McQueen, Mary McFadden, Michaela DePrince, Franklin Beverly, David Handelman, J.D. Souther, Maggie Smith, and James Earl Jones.

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maliciouspizza · 3 months ago

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aneleya · 10 days ago

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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

welcome my resource page where you can find all my favorite mods, build/buy cc list, save files & more! ♡

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nostalgia gshade preset by wolfxdreamer.

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tamedstray · 7 months ago

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@forbiddenacademia 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒅

"What do I want?" Haleth repeats, few had asked her such before. If his intention was to query in lightheartedness, she missed that cue. Wine-stained lips press and push to the side as she mulls through her mind like busy fingers sifting through endless files and heavy ledgers. "If I could have anything, no strings, no questions." She sips from her bottle of wine, swirling it idle to watch the liquid spin. "No concerns of cost, of course..." Tipping the emerald glass neck in his direction to accent her point. "I would feel the sun without it's burn, see proper the colours of the flowers when they bloom. I feel as though I exist clinging to many worlds, yet I as a whole do not belong to any one of them. I want to exist singularly, to be a mere drop of water within the tides of a storm."

Drink and conversation is a small luxury enjoyed by commoner and noble alike. Most of all, however, it was the ideal respite for the adventurer. On good days, they could recall tales of victory, or take a moment to rest and consider the world beyond their strife on solemn ones. Vigor couldn't think of anyone more engaging to share a bottle and open thoughts with. ❝All the best things in life are free. Save for the cost of a good sun hat...❞ he grins as he muses away. He is at ease, resting on his arm as he leans in. ❝Or a nice wine, or good blanket, but I digress...❞

Vigor takes a careful sip. It had been a long time since he could savour a drink, and was always a light-weight, a matter only exacerbated by years in the wilds. He takes a moment to consider her point, beautiful but hardly revealing. He much preferred when Haleth spoke plainly, least they miscommunicate. ❝Isn't the drop part of the storm?❞ A simple question, both to encourage debate and hopefully provide some clarity. ❝Should we pluck you from the waves and keep you safe in a little vial?❞ Vigor's grin grows as a chuckle slips out, playful and open.

❝But what do you mean, exactly?❞

#forbiddenacademia #tl. 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 { main era }#vigor: thats pretty but also im dumb pls explain <3 #q.

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pippinoftheshire · 9 months ago

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Thanks to @nicijones and @justabigoldnerd for the tags!

From my UNCLE/Man Of Steel fusion: For My Heart Is The Sky, And My Blood The Rain

Some people have wondered why things so often manage to hide in plain sight. Well, it is the same reason we refuse to believe our eyes. If something looks normal enough, smooth enough for the river of thought to glance off it, then it will. Humans don’t like to be uncomfortable. They like to have their world wrapped closely around them like a safety net. They keep their heads down, content in what they have, and only very rarely will they stand against something. Only if it affects them directly. Sometimes it bothers him. How simple their lives can be. Sometimes they surprise him- occasionally in good ways... but more often than not, it’s anger and cruelty. Violence. Sometimes they really don’t deserve his help. So he helps them anyway. Faith, the shining lure of absolution, follows in their footsteps like a golden shadow. Hope lurks in the back of their minds. Something one feels they can brush with their fingers: that if they are pure enough, it might just save them. Sometimes he can see it- a light in the recesses of their eyes. Crouched atop the spire of the Empire State Building, Napoleon Solo looks out over the rolling sea of concrete and glass. The breeze is cold, icy with the taint of winter frost, and it brings a faint pink bloom to his cheeks, like a new rosebud. His cape banners from his shoulders in a swathe of white silk, rustling and hissing. Whispering in the wind. It feels lonely up here, Napoleon reflects, not for the first time. Sometimes he feels like a drowning swimmer alone in a sea, the water ice in his lungs. Sometimes his ears bleed from all the noise; all the voices, the shouting. Sometimes, he just wants to hide, somewhere no one will ever find him. Sometimes he wants to fly up into the shadow beyond the atmosphere and welcome the darkness that would choke him, rip the air from his mortal chest. His phone buzzes, tucked into its small pocket. Gaby: I’ll be home in a hour. Want me to bring anything? Sometimes he wishes he could tell her. Share this burden with someone he can trust. After all- she’s a mechanic; not a soldier. There wouldn’t be so much at stake... But he can’t. He can’t risk it. Not after everything his mother had done to keep him safe. Ever since the explosion... since the world came rushing into the void it had left behind... since the goddamned Metahuman gene had been activated in his body from where it had slumbered, dormant, like a predator waiting to strike... He’s been a danger to her. The very IDEA of him is a danger. Sighing, he stands, and the sun is bright against the suit. It’s mostly white, with black and gold accents dark over his shoulders, hips and legs, collar high and snug against his throat. It helps keep the chill out. Most of the time. The swirling S sits over his chest like a crimson wound. His mother had found the old file during her linguistics research. An old symbol from a forgotten world. A time when people of the stars had walked among them. Shared their knowledge. He’s not sure how much of it is true. Maybe all it is an old tale told to children to scare them. He’ll believe in aliens when he sees one. Hope, she had said. It means hope. It will give them something to strive towards, to look up to. Perhaps it will help us be better.

Tagging @heytheredeann @ikeepwatchinghelicopters @inherited-by-ocelot @cha-melodius and anyone else who wants to join!

Thank you so much @nicijones and @cha-melodius for the tags!!!!

Still working on the next chapter of "To Find Someone To Talk To, Who Likes The Way I Am"!!!

Solo placed one of Illya's shaking hands over his heart and held his gaze, very aware of multiple sets of eyes on them. “Let them talk, love,” he reminded him in a whisper. He lifted his free hand to trace the scar on his temple. From there, he paved the curve of his jaw, hooking his fingers under his chin to guide him closer. He pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and breathed, “It's mostly about me, anyway. We've already proved them wrong. And we'll prove them wrong tomorrow, too.” Illya nodded softly, his hands still trembling. So Solo bit back a shit-eating grin and joked, “Or I could take you right here on the sidewalk and really get their eyes off of us.” That startled Illya out of his state and he gave a short, exasperated laugh, letting their intertwined hands fall from Solo's chest. “I am learning many things about you, now that you know I am not KGB,” he teased, continuing their walk. That flutter of fear in his gut again. “Oh?” “Things we will explore, in time,” Illya bumped his shoulder to Solo's with a sly smile that summoned heat to his cheeks. “Oh.” A flutter of a different kind.

No pressure tagging @pippinoftheshire @huggiebird @yallwildinrn @heytheredeann and anyone else who wants to join in!!!! 💕💕💕💕

#tag games #wip wednesday

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whirlybirbs · 4 years ago

Text

( this chapter’s gif by @august-walker from this beautiful set ! )

✪ — VACANT MIRRORS ; B.B. | 4/?

summary: you formulate a plan, meet steve rogers, and bucky goes on a date.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 6.8k, mother of pearl

a/n: this ended up being mostly a filler with a lot of romantic growth - i had to break this chapter up from the unce unce unce clubbing that coming up, so please enjoy!

( PREVIOUSLY | AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT )

MOSCOW, 1975.

In all the years that James Buchanan Barnes has had a heartbeat, he’d come to know the sounds of grief well.

War taught him a lot of things — that they were all just little boys playing with guns, and that no matter how many times you thought you’d be ready for the vomit-inducing pungency of violence, you never were. In the end, you’d do anything to save yourself; you’d crawl through the thick of death and debris a million times over if only to cling to the shredded tatters of your own humanity.

You would kill someone else’s son for the sake of your own mother.

War was disease that devoured every part of you — it was gunpowder snuff and carved flesh. That sickness — inky and desperate — had sunk deep into this heart during the war, and it crescendoed to the sounds of mothers clutching dead sons. The sounds that followed death were like a hollow opera. Waning and wailing.

In the raucous wake left by warborn grief, Bucky drowned everytime.

To the Winter Soldier, the operatic quality to the sounds of grief were as insignificant as a child’s rhyme.

He did not drown. No, he waded through the waves, comfortable in the cold and unphased by the stinging cut of loss. That was not something he could comprehend. After all, there were orders and there were targets, and everything in between was absolute.

He was the disease that devoured all.

He’s holding a gun to Andrei Kuznetzov’s head in a dining room with ornate trim — with silverware as delicate as scalpels that tinker against fine china. The carpets are red, the curtains are red, there’s blood on the table cloth. The guests continue to eat. Kuznetzov’s wife is screaming, red nails dug so deep into the dining chair’s arms it’s carving out the fabric. War dogs, like him, keep her rooted in her seat, and her tears find polished boots. She’s begging and bartering but the man with Kuznetzov’s life in his hands is not listening. He is eating his veal, bloodied meat dancing between his lips. He takes a sip of wine as his medal emblazoned chest glimmers in the light of crystalline chandaliers.

The spoils of war.

His smile is stained red.

There is no deal to be made.

The Winter Soldier pulls the trigger.

NOW.

His eyes are open.

Panic is the first emotion he feels, and it seizes him up quickly in its grasp. He doesn’t know this view, he doesn’t know where he is, not again, not again, not again —

Then:

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. Did you know you snore?”

The relief that the sound of your voice brings is immediate, and just like that he remembers. He’s laying on the bed. You’re sat up across from him at that small desk in the corner. He reaches as he rubs his face to thumb the edge of the pillowcase. He exhales tightly.

He’s fine. His name is James Buchanan Barnes. He is not longer the Winter Soldier. He’s in his Brooklyn apartment. He is fine.

When’s the last fucking time he’s slept in a bed?

He sits up, scratching his neck as he does. You lean back, half rotated in the desk. Before you is a mess of papers and his laptop — and on top of the keyboard sits his notebook. It’s open to the page where all he’d been able to figure out about Innessa was scrawled in his chicken scratch.

Bucky swings his legs over the edge of the bed and immediately his back complains.

“How long was I out?” he asks, voice hoarse with sleep. He moves to part the curtains. The room blooms with warm morning light.

You offer an apologetic smile into the vanilla sunshine. “Three hours. I wanted you to get some shut eye. You were starting to look a little overwhelmed last night—”

“You click too fast,” he waves, standing and immediately rolling his neck to the side. You watch as the man, before as peaceful as a sleeping pup, now regains his usual thinning veiled level of threat. Bucky is dangerous — it shows in the way he holds himself. He cracks his neck, rolls his shoulders, and groans. He exhales again, posture sagging a bit, “I couldn’t keep up.”

You’re standing now, socks padding against the hardwood as you eye his cowlick with a budding bloom of affection. With his notebook between your index and middle finger, you offer it out. You cling to your empty coffee cup in the other.

“I didn’t peek,” you say warmly, “Pinky promise.”

His laugh is more like a hot puff of air. Bucky manages a look that feels like an emotional dethaw.

“Thank you.”

You lead the way to the kitchen, stretching your own back as you go. You’d been up all night — this is your third trip out here for yet another cup of coffee. The pot has been on for too long, though, and you know the coffee sitting there is beyond bitter. You’re moving to dump it down the sink when Bucky grumbles.

“Don’t.”

“You want it?”

“No,” he mutters, reaching for a mug, “But I don’t want to waste it.”

“Wow,” you chirp, “The Great Depression just jumped out.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, yanking open the fridge to search for something to eat, “It does that.”

“Well, grandpa,” you hand him the steaming cup and set out to make another pot, “You’re also living on Depression Era rations — might I suggest some Dolly’s? Because I’m starving and I’ve been up all night and I think that means I get to decide where we get breakfast.”

Bucky’s look is soft — but you don’t see it. You’re too busy scooping sugar into your cup, too busy nudging him aside to grab the milk. He’s rooted there in the kitchen, watching you move about. You’re comfortable. There isn’t a trace of anxiousness in you, not in this moment, and he tries to remember what it looks like.

Your eyes find his and he clears his throat.

“Earth to Sergeant Barnes?”

“Don’t start,” he groans, albeit playfully, “It’s too early.”

“Oh, what? Too early for me to grill you on why you didn’t tell me that little laptop in there was on loan from the FBI? To one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th?”

His face falls.

“Don’t worry,” you raise a hand quickly, leaning against the counter as you sip your coffee, “I figured that out before I did anything massively illegal.”

Bucky rubs his face as he takes a sip of his coffee — the bitterness is enough to slap him awake. He winces, swallows it back, and remembers the taste of instant coffee made in helmets on the line in Bastogne. He can smell snow, and the acrid sting of mortar smoke. Suddenly, he’s craving a cigarette.

That hasn’t happened in a while.

Bucky clears his throat. “Did you find anything?”

You frown slightly, lips pulled as you hide your inward disappointment — you push off from the counter and shake your head as you brush past him. Like a loyal dog, Bucky follows. Into the bedroom you go, and Bucky’s again surprised he managed to get any sleep at all in that bed. Maybe it was the comfort of having someone else there, or the genuine exhaustion that had finally choked him out after hours of trying to understand what the hell you were even doing on there.

You plop into the desk chair and snatch up a piece of paper littered with notes.

“I couldn’t do much of my usual snooping,” you explain gently as you gesture to the chromebook, “This thing might have been given to you in good faith, but they’re watching you pretty closely. So, I worked a little magic and ended up running a virtual machine. Gave me enough wiggle room to avoid the malware and keystroke trackers. Even still, I wanted to be careful, so I just did a little looking.”

“Looking?”

“I can’t dig deeper on Innessa, I know where to dig, but I can’t,” you frown, “Not on this laptop, and definitely not on my personal machines. I’ve got the GRC breathing down my neck, and the files I need to poke are very much off-limits.”

“So, what? We’re shit out of luck?”

“No, not entirely,” you stand up and motion to the paper in your hands; your tone is tight, “I know a few people who can help, but getting to them is going to be the hardest part.”

Bucky takes the paper, squinting at the writing as you settle on the edge of the bed next to him. You take a sip of your coffee and watch as his blue eyes dart across the notes; you point to the name scrawled across the top.

“There’s a club in lower Manhattan, but you’ve gotta know the right people to get in,” you mumble, scratching your cheek as a creeping sense of embarrassment bubbles up behind your words, “It’s in the basement of an old computer repair shop. It’s like a blackhat networking event, but with strippers.”

Bucky squints at the paper and reads the name. “The Glass Cannon?”

“Yeah,” you huff, crossing your arms tightly as you stand, “That’s the one.”

Bucky looks up from the paper, attention now rooted on the pacing you’ve begun to do across the room. Back and forth. You’re holding your coffee like a lifeline, gaze far away. That anxiousless way you’d been holding yourself before is gone. Now, he can see the tensing in your shoulders, in your fingers. You’re suddenly nervous.

Bucky stands. His voice is gentle.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” you snap almost immediately, “Just, y’know. Worried. I spent a lot of time there when I was younger. Did stupid shit. And now I’m about to waltz in after six years like I haven’t put that part of my life behind me.”

“We don’t have to do this,” he says immediately, moving to stand closer and halt your pacing. The invasion of your space forces you to look at him. His fingers glimmering in the morning light. You follow the line of his figure up to his eyes. The emotion there makes your heart clench. You can’t pin it down, and it’s gone in an instant.

“It’s the only way we’re going to find Innessa.”

“You don’t need to put yourself in situations like this for me,” he says, stressing the for me part in both expression and tone. The depreciation makes you wince and you’re fast to shake your head.

“That’s what friends do, Bucky,” you stand your ground, but you know there’s more to your reasoning than that, “Plus, she’s a bad guy. And I know you said I technically wasn’t the sidekick, but—”

“You’re not the sidekick—”

“I know,” you huff, nudging him gently with your arm, “But, I wanna help. Do some good.”

“You do enough good,” he mutters, “You’re a good person.”

Your words fail you at that — and your mouth parts but nothing comes out. Bucky watches with an expression as solid as rock as you blink and look away. His hand, the one of flesh and bone, finds your wrist as you tighten your grip on your mug.

The touch, though far too tender for you to handle, feels like fire.

Like a slap in the face, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky is.

You slap that thought back, trading volleys, and remain quiet.

His tone is stern. “I mean it.”

“Well,” you finally muster, tone dipping sardonically into a cruel peel of humor, “Just wait until you see me in my natural habitat. Maybe the tequila shots will make you second guess that.”

“I didn’t know we were going out drinking,” he chirps as he raises an eyebrow, “Am I going to need to get you a leash?”

“We’re gonna have to try and blend in as best we can. People are going to know me — if they try to pin me with the GRC or the feds, we aren’t going to get anything on Innessa. They probably won’t even let me in the building if they suspect something’s up, after all not everything that goes down in Glass Cannon is kosher.”

“This is already sounding like a bad idea,” Bucky mumbles as he crosses his arms, “I’m stating that for the record, by the way.”

“Well, I think standing around and working ourselves up about this is even worse of an idea,” you chirp back, moving towards the door to muscle on your shoes, “So I say we feed ourselves and don’t worry about this until Thursday night.”

“Thursday.”

You nod.

All of a sudden, Bucky’s eyes go wide.

“Today is Sunday.”

You freeze, hand on the doorframe. You shoot him a wide-eyed look at the sudden flare of panic that’s shot up through him. “Yea, Bucky, today is Sunday.”

“Shit.”

“What?” you nearly cry as he disappears into the bedroom once more. You hear his closet open, then a clatter as he grabs something like keys — you nearly run directly into his chest when he strides back into the kitchen. He’s shouldered on his usual leather jacket, and in his hands is another.

He’s got keys in his hand.

“C’mon.”

He shoves the jacket into your arms and you frown.

“What the hell?” you cry, doubling back to snag your phone and bag as Bucky moves to the door, “What is this?”

“Put it on,” he says, holding open the door for you as you follow him into the apartment hallway.

You raise a brow and stand there as he locks the door.

“Why?”

“Because,” Bucky mumbles, rubbing his face as he widens his strides to the stairwell across the hall; before you know it, you’re desperately trying to keep up as he bounces down the steps — light on his feet like the boxer he is — towards the lower level of the apartment complex, “We’re late.”

You groan, trying to shrug on the jacket that smells like Bucky as you follow — a smell you’d come to know as clean laundry and sandalwood. Must be something for his hair. He never wore cologne, that much was apparent. The jacket is big on you, especially on the shoulders. You were swimming in it, trying not to trip as he held the door open to the garage.

Suddenly, the air is cooler. Immediately you wonder how much his rent is if he had access to a ground level garage. Call it NYC instinct.

“Bucky,” you nearly whine, throwing your head back, “Where are we going?”

Before you get a reply, you run straight into his back. Bucky grunts, moving to grab both of your hands and push you to the front of him.

Sitting in the spot is a motorcycle.

It’s a jet black Harley.

Bucky is handing you the helmet on the back seat as your mouth moves in disbelief. “No way— no, I’m not getting on that thing. I’d rather sell my kidneys. Stop, stop — ow, Bucky — you haven’t even said where we’re going!”

He’s muscling the helmet onto your head and through the flash of the visor you can see a real smile, the sort born out of his never-ending amusement towards your fickle sense of humor. His fingers are nimble against your chin. He takes the time to strap it on, adjust it, and give it a gentle tug. Bucky taps the matte black helmet twice, then flicks the visor down.

“We’re going upstate.”

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

It takes two hours to get to Elmwood Senior Living.

You spent the first forty-five minutes clinging to Bucky’s waist with your eyes closed — no fault of Bucky’s, really. It was different from riding in a car by miles, and you had your own qualms with driving. You couldn’t be in the passenger’s seat anymore. Not after the accident with Jaimie, when Mom disappeared. Being out of control made you itch; and it’s not until the fifty-minute mark that you ease up on the panic and remember who the man is that’s driving the bike.

You trust Bucky. You trust him with your life.

Once it’s open road, winding up towards the Northern part of the state, it gets easier.

Bucky can feel your grip around his waist loosen just a bit — and it’s enough reassurance that he stops looking back in the mirror every fifteen seconds. It’s enough permission to open up on the throttle, and the bike roars alive. Your immediate reaction is a gobsmacked yelp, the sort that’s pulled from a jolt of shock, but then comes the laugh.

Bucky’s own quiet chuckle rumbles against your chest. You hold on tighter, but this time with open palms against the thrum of his ribs.

Halfway through the trip, he pulls into a McDonald’s.

You drop your ass onto the parking lot’s curb as he leans against the bike and houses a burger. You laugh, eyeing him candidly as you take a large bite from your own lunch. Bucky is a mess with it — cursing quietly when he ends up getting ketchup on his jacket.

“Shit.”

“Jesus, Bucky,” you mutter, “Did you even taste that thing?”

“Barely,” he clears his throat and starts picking at his fries, “These things taste different now. First time I ever had McDonald’s was right before bootcamp.”

“How much was it? Five cents?” you snort, leaning back and dropping a fry into your mouth.

Bucky watches with a half-smirk. “Fifteen, but nice try.”

He spends the next five minutes on his hand with a wet nap, trying hard to get the grease out of the delicate plates along his palm. You watch, as you knock back the rest of your soda, as his eyes crinkle tightly in frustration. His mouth is pulled tightly into a fine line. For the second time today, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky Barnes is — and how fucking stubborn he is, too.

“Want help?”

“No,” he mutters, trying to get a spot between his thumb and index finger, “I got it.”

“I have smaller fingers,” you sing-song, gathering up his trash and your trash and crossing the parking lot to the bin; upon returning, you waggle them in his face, “Good for hard to reach places.”

Bucky absolutely hates that can feel his blush hit the tips of his ears at the comment.

He’s glad you’re too preoccupied with his hand to notice. You’re watching, like you always do, with respectful awe. To you, this part of him is a bit like a treasure — you find it beautiful and intriguing and incredible. It’s clear in the way you watch the mechanisms turn and tighten that you aren’t frightened by it.

It unsettles Bucky every time.

Finally, once he’s finished under your watchful eyes, he leans to muscle that helmet back over your head. You groan, squinting tightly.

“C’mon,” he knocks your helmet with his knuckles, “We’re almost there.”

The rest of the ride is wide open space, farm land and mountainous peaks looming far ahead. It’s warm, and the sun is hot on your back. The wind is howling around you and it sends your jacket collar flapping against your neck. Your chin rests neatly on Bucky’s shoulder, trying to get a view of the road ahead.

Elmwood Senior Living is tucked into the back of a suburb.

The two of you weave through a neighborhood or two, dancing under the shade of age old maple trees. They cast long, scattered shadows across the pavement as kids play on their lawns. A dog barks somewhere in the distance. Over the hill, church bells ring. Sunday service has ended.

Bucky rolls into the parking lot, past the large sign with swirling lettering. Suddenly, things make more sense. Suddenly, you’re struck with a sinking feeling of grief. Nostalgia. Mourning. But, happiness.

There are folks sitting outside, basking in the sun, tethered to walkers.

Bucky’s wrists crank back weathered knuckles, and slowly the bike rumbles into an open spot. Extending his legs, Bucky balances the bike with ease. You take that as your cue to swing yourself off the back clumsily, hopping a bit. Bucky leans, kicks the stand down, and with significantly more grace than you, swings his leg over.

You’re shrugging his jacket off when he speaks.

“He’s going to be different than how you imagine him.”

You exhale slowly, draping the jacket over the bike’s seat. You peel the helmet off.

“I’ve sort of pieced that together.”

You can see the slight discomfort hanging in his posture. You reach and touch Bucky’s arm.

“Come on,” you nod to the entrance, covered by a shady overhang where someone is helping a family member out of their car, “We don’t wanna be late, huh?”

His eyes soften. Bucky nods.

You walk side-by-side into the lobby of Elmwood Senior Living and it’s like time slows down. It halts in a warm, sunshine colored still — full of chatter, full of humanity, full of wisdom. The room is framed by big windows, by plants, by a man in a U.S. Navy ball cap. He’s stationed by the door, watching the comings and goings. The main desk, where a young woman watches, sits in the corner. You follow Bucky with a content little look. He notices.

He stands a little closer at the main desk. The girl, who looks like she’s incredibly out of place with her blue hair and piercings, is younger than you thought. Highschool, maybe. She offers Bucky an excited smile.

“Took you long enough,” she chirps, moving to sort through a bin to her side with key fobs.

Your brows raise. You spy calculus homework on the desk.

Bucky snorts. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He notices the same problem set you so, and purposely leans over the desk. Suddenly, you’re seeing flashes of a more boyish version of Bucky — one that reminds you of a man with siblings. Bucky taps the paper, jutting a chin to the girl as she tries to swat his attention away.

“How’d you do on that test?”

“I got a 96,” she chirps pridefully, laughing, “Thanks for the help, nerd.”

You’re watching the entire exchange with a smile, backing up a bit to toss a curious glance over your shoulder. There’s a dining room through open doors — and looks like lunch is just wrapping up. Folks are moving around, back to their rooms or upstairs where you can hear the beginnings of a seated aerobics class begin.

Bucky nudges you with his hand.

“Thanks, Sarah,” he says and waves the key she’d handed over.

The girl with the blue hair scoffs. “Say hi to grandpa for me, Bucket.”

You laugh out loud as Bucky quickly flips her off. She’s quick to do the same.

You follow him around the corner, grinning ear to ear. He spares you a sheepish look, then rolls his eyes.

“What was that?”

“She’s a good kid,” he offers, eyeing the key with the grey little fob attached, “Reminds me of my sister.”

Your face softens. “Sister?”

“Her name was Sarah, too,” he says quietly, boots landing softly on the blue carpet. He’s navigating the residential wing like he’s done it a million times. There are rooms with flowers outside, with holiday garb, with little photos and keepsakes. Each room holds a lifetime of personality — the sound of Jeopardy lulls along in the background.

You hum. Bucky sighs.

He meanders down a long hallway where a different door is — this one heavy and locked by the little keypad. Bucky raises the key fob to the device and the door buzzes.

This side of Elmwood is quieter.

Down the hall, Timmy Dorsey and Sinatra play quietly over someone’s record player.

There aren’t as many folks in the hall in this wing, but doors are open and nurses flit about. Around the corner, there’s a loud conversation going on about lunch — and you watch as Bucky weaves towards the nursing station. It’s a room overlooking the common area with windows. Inside are three women.

One of them immediately jumps when she sees Bucky.

“Oh, good! I was meaning to talk to you—”

“Everything alright?”

“About the same,” she breathes as she stands, moving to grab at a Bucky’s arm with a sense of motherliness that makes you smile, “But, meals have been a bit difficult lately.”

“No kidding,” he mutters, rubbing his chin, “He just doesn’t wanna eat?”

“He thinks Peggy is coming home,” the woman whispers with a pained smile as she begins to lead you both down the hall, “He thinks your grandmother made dinner for him.”

“Right,” Bucky nods, “Doesn’t wanna ruin his appetite.”

“Exactly.”

You take note of the conversation, muddling through your own confusion. You’re quiet, though. This isn’t really your conversation to have. Bucky seems to be relaxed more — even humming slightly to a song that plays across the hall from the room the nurse is knocking on.

“Mr. Carter?” she calls gently, “Your grandson is here to see you, and his…”

She looks expectantly at you. You bawk.

“Friend.”

“Right,” she smiles and pushes open the door.

It’s like a little slice of home.

Sofas, chairs, photos on the walls. There’s a record player in the corner, a television, a coffee table stacked with books on the second world war. There’s a dresser covered in baubles and warm light coming in from the window overlooking the street. It reminds you of your grandparents’ sitting room — everything looks so lived in, so comfortable, so alive.

And then, below the light of the window, is a hospital bed.

In it is Steve Rogers.

Not the one you know — no, this one has lived a full life. This Steve Rogers has fallen in love, owned a home, settled down. This Steve Rogers has years of wisdom settled into his face, years of well-fought fights in his joints. His blonde hair has gone shock white, but his smile is all the same.

“Bucky.”

The way Steve says his name is like the man beside you holds the world.

To Bucky, he can hear a new weakness. A new exhaustion.

“Hi, punk.”

The nurse offers a little wave to you as Bucky ventures into the room, stripping his jacket off and moving to scope out the minifridge in the small kitchenette beside the bathroom. She leaves the door open, and you smile to her softly. Bucky rummages, poking his head up.

“You want a drink, Steve?” he asks, tone almost like he’s feeling out the lucidity of the man across the room, “There’s some of that lemonade I brought last week in here.”

“Sounds good,” he says slowly, “Please.”

You feel out of place — not unwelcome, but… it’s clear that Bucky has come and gone from here a thousand times now. He knows to get the glasses out, to get a straw, to turn down the record player on his way over. Doris Day’s voice lowers to a soft croon. You watch with heavy eyes.

“I brought someone, Steve,” Bucky says, “She’s a big fan.”

“Oh?” Steve asks with a slow look to the corner where you’re standing, “That musta broke your heart.”

Bucky snorts as he moves to swing the hospital bed’s tray over Steve’s lap. He places the lemonade down, then the other glass on the nightstand. He’s quick to move the armchair closer to the nightstand, and gestures for you to come over. Bucky’s hands guide you by the shoulders as he plops you into the chair.

“She’s one of the good ones,” Bucky says, “Reminds me of you.”

“No kidding,” Steve says slowly, offering a hand that shakes, “Steve Rogers. It’s a pleasure.”

You exchange your name with a shy look, shaking that hand with reverence and gentility. “It’s an honor, Mr. Rogers.”

“Please,” he mumbles, moving to slowly take a sip of his lemonade, “Steve is fine.”

Bucky moves to take up a post on the opposite side of Steve, in the sun. “You’re losin’ weight, y’know.”

That earns him a wave of the hand.

Bucky leans back and sips his lemonade. He waggles a finger and you watch the two begin to go back and forth.

“No, no,” he swallows, “No, you don’t get t’ shrug me off—”

“M’fine, Buck,” a sigh, “Really.”

“Mhm,” he narrows his eyes, “You’re startin’ to look like the Steve I knew before the serum.”

You lean back, hiding a quiet smirk behind your hand.

“I was wondering when you were gonna show up an’ pester me,” he says with a tired look, “The only peace I get around here is when Peggy comes home.”

Your eyes jump to Bucky. He’s watching you.

“Peggy?” you ask gently, “Is that your wife?”

A proud smile washes over his face. “Still knocks me for a loop, too.”

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice is gentle, “Peggy won’t be coming around for a while. Remember?”

There’s a look that flashes across Steve’s face, then. A mixture of sadness, of confusion, of panic. It’s clouded with a furrow of his brow, hidden by a tilt of the head. He looks at Bucky, mouth pulled in a fine line.

When he finally speaks, his voice is sad.

“That’s right. I forgot.”

“S’alright,” Bucky taps his head, maintaining an air of nonchalance, “That’s why you got me.”

“And why you’ve got her, no doubt,” he turns to you with a winning smile and offers his hand again, “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

You take it, you shake it, and you introduce yourself once more. Your smile is patient and understanding. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Steve.”

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Steve smiles, tossing Bucky a look that borders on mischievous.

He sips his lemonade and clears his throat. “How is Sam?”

“You ask every time,” Bucky mutters, “And every time I have the same answer.”

“Sam?” you ask slowly.

“Wilson,” Bucky finishes, “Bird man.”

“You mean Falcon,” you correct, shooting him a stern look, “The Falcon. Are you ghosting The Falcon?”

“I don’t know what that even means, so maybe,” Bucky leans back and crosses his legs, “I’ve been busy.”

You roll your eyes. Steve saw. He smiles.

“I’m gettin’ why he keeps you around.”

Your face is smacked with a look of pure joy.

“C’mon on now,” Bucky cries, nearly indignantly, “No flirting—”

“M’ not flirting—”

“I know that look, Steve—”

Steve is laughing.

Bucky has a stern look in his eye. “You always do this—”

“I’m not doin’ a damn thing—”

“And you better keep it that way, old man,” Bucky shirks, voice splintering into a laugh in a way that you’ve never heard before, “I swear, this is how it always goes.”

“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, huh, Buck?” you ask gently, leaning your cheek into your hand.

Steve laughs loudly at that.

Bucky spares you a smile — the sort that’s drenched in good humor and sunlight. It makes your lungs flutter, and you ignore the buzz in your fingers at the sight. You hide your laugh into your cup of lemonade, resigning to be a quiet counterpart in the conversation.

The two of them go on to chat about small things, then chat about old things. From the Commandos, to HYDRA, to amends, to therapy, to Peggy, to the itch the starch of their old dress uniforms used to bring. It takes a bit, a few redirections on the way, but it’s clear by the end why Steve Rogers is in Elmwood’s memory unit.

It makes your heart ache.

And if a super soldier is bed-ridden…

The two of you say goodbye around three in the afternoon after Bucky helps Steve shave.

The walk back to the bike is quiet.

Bucky speaks first.

“He’s dying.”

You chew your lip, eyes on the pavement. You match his slow stride, bumping your elbow with his as you walk. It’s still warm, and the clouds hang high in the sky. When you look up, Bucky’s watching you. You sigh.

“I’m sorry,” you finally muster, “I am.”

“Don’t be,” he says, grabbing the jacket from the seat and holding it up, “He’s lived a long life.”

You let Bucky hold out the arm for you, and you press your hand through the sleeve. He helps the other side on, and you zip it up to your chin. When you turn around to face him, there are tears in your eyes.

They snuck up on you. You hadn’t realized it until Bucky’s face fell, until the first one fell along the weathered leather of the jacket. You blink, raising your brows as you swipe them away, and offer an apologetic look.

“I’m happy,” you say, “Y’know. He has you. But, he’s a man out of time. Even now. That makes me sad.”

Bucky’s quiet for a while. He’s leaned up against the bike as you turn and watch Elmwood from the back of the parking lot. There’s a big part of you that feels heavy with guilt — and though Steve was in good spirits when you left, you can’t help but ache to provide him with more company. It’s clear that seeing Bucky means a lot to him, and that in turn it means a lot to the man beside you.

“Come on,” Bucky says then, “Let’s go home.”

You nod, let him muscle that helmet onto your head one more time, and hold on a little tighter back to the city.

◦ ◦ ◦ ◦

You don’t see Bucky until Tuesday.

In all honesty, it feels weird to not hear from him for two days. At the very least, you expected some sort of phone call — but you remind yourself that you’ve been okay alone for a long time. There’s no need to throw all your work on being comfortable by yourself out the window for Bucky Barnes.

It’s tempting, though. God, it’s really tempting.

You hate the ache in your chest when you finally see him lumbering towards the cafe counter before your appointments. You hate this new feeling — so you shove it down and ignore the way his fingers brush yours when he hands you your latte.

He is ignoring it, too. He’s been ignoring it.

No use in thinking about it though.

“You got plans later?” you ask him in the elevator after your appointment, tilting your head, “Apparently there’s a Lord of the Rings marathon tonight on FX.”

Bucky stiffens — and immediately he can feel the hot sting of anxious regret flood his cheeks. He clears his throat, tucks his hands in his pockets, and toes the ground. You watch with a confused look. Then he speaks tightly.

“...I’ve got a date.”

You could have caught flies the way your jaw fell open.

“Oh. Oh!”

You blink, readjust your expression, and swallow down a sharp stab of rejection.

Bucky clears his throat. “It’s… I wasn’t going to but, Dr. Raynor—”

“No, no,” you wave your hands and shake your head and try to seem genuine, “No, I’m happy for you. Is this one of those Christian Minglers?”

Bucky groans. “Shut up.”

“Okay,” you say, “Okay! Just, uh, be careful. Y’know? And call if you need anything.”

The elevator doors open, and Bucky walks side by side with you through the well-lit lobby. He holds the door open for you, and you pass through with a pained look at the ground. He lingers, though, rubbing the back of his neck as you wait for him to say what’s on his mind.

“Thursday,” he says, “I’ll stop by.”

“Yea,” you say, waving your hand, “Whenever.”

But, that doesn’t end up happening.

No, Bucky Barnes shows up at your apartment doorstep at 10pm.

He’s clutching takeout and a six pack of beer and wearing a horrified expression that screams of guilt and exhaustion. No, Bucky buzzes the door to your apartment and basically croaks that he’s here — he’s asking if the marathon is still on while you buzz him up.

“Third floor,” you say into the buzzer with a smile, “Come on in, old man.”

When you open the door, you have to laugh — because his hair is a mess and there’s still a trace of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. Whereas jealousy threatens to flare, his incredibly regretful expression tamps it down. You cock a hip, eye him up and down, and jut your chin out.

“Get laid?”

Bucky rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised he didn’t break something.

He pushes past you, moving to drop the beer on the counter and place the takeout gently down by the basket of fruit.

“I’m here for the cat,” he grumbles, “Not your witty commentary, sweetheart.”

You’re moving quietly to the sink and gathering a paper towel with a smirk as Bucky looks around, admiring the decor and aliveness of your apartment. When you turn around, he’s already pried a beer from the pack and popped the top off with his vibranium palm.

He winces when you reach up to swipe the coral lipstick from the corner of his mouth.

Then Bucky settles, letting you clean off the mess.

“Mhm,” you hum, “Right. Was it at least fun?”

“She had fun,” he mutters into his first sip, “It was a lotta tongue for my first night out in nearly a century, though.”

You wince. He nods with a sardonic smile that tells you everything about how the date went down — and you’re relieved. “So, I take it you're not calling her in the morning?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “Nope. No, and I’ve decided no more dates. That was enough for me.”

You wince and pluck a beer from the pack. Wordlessly, Bucky gestures for you to hand it over. In one smooth motion, he twists the cap off with his hand.

“That bad?” you ask, eyeing him critically.

“I decided halfway through,” he says as he moves to take the takeout from its bag, “I’d rather be watching Lord of the Rings with you.”

That stops you into silence. It’s like someone’s taken your own words and gagged you with them — and you’re left floundering for breath you never even realize you lost. You know he means it. You know it because he won’t look at you, because that sort of confession isn’t easy for people like you two. So you take those words and you glue them in a lonely locket and keep them close to your heart.

Poke’s entrance saves you a mouthful of broken words — he comes in, trots up to Bucky, and hollers.

Bucky laughs.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he mutters, eyeing the cat that’s eagerly rubbing himself along Bucky’s leg.

You wipe your face, sip your beer, and move to the pantry across from the kitchen island. You come back out with a bag of salmon treats — the good ones — and offer Bucky the bag. He takes it, eyes still on the calico, and crinkles it a little.

You lean against the counter and watch Bucky kneel.

“If you keep it up long enough he might even let you hold him.”

He lights up at that.

You laugh.

You move to grab plates and forks and knives and groan when you open up the first box to see Pad Thai — you make a mental note to properly thank Bucky for this. You meager dinner of reheated pasta really hadn’t hit the spot. This will, though. You can tell from the smell alone.

By your knees, Poke chirps.

“He’s cute.”

“I never took you for a cat guy.”

Bucky snorts.

You make a plate and flick his head as you walk by. “You’re missing the start of The Two Towers.”

“I’m going to be confused, aren’t I?” he asks as he stands and begins making himself a plate. He watches as you settle onto the couch and sip your beer, “I was too busy being turned into a cyborg to read the books.”

You laugh out loud. It shocks you.

“Was that a joke? Did Bucky Barnes just make a joke?”

He’s smirking. He rounds the counter with his food and settles next to you. Poke is following him, eager to curl up next to his new friend.

“I can be funny.”

“Funny lookin’.”

He elbows you on purpose. You snort into your beer.

There’s a comfortable moment of quiet between you, and you clear your throat.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly, “No problem.”

More quiet, and he’s still watching you. Then, he asks what’s been on his mind for the last three days.

“You got a plan for Thursday?”

“I’ve got anxiety, Buck,” you exhale, swigging your beer and turning the television up, “I always have a plan.”

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