#genuinely the smartest being I've ever met

[jackross-v]

Serious post for once;

I've genuinely never cared about anything /this/ much before and I know it's kind of silly but please, if at all possible, spare a thought for my cat. He's gonna have to undergo brain surgery tomorrow and as he's already pretty old the chances of him making it out of it are not great to say the least.

I love that cat more than I've ever loved anything or anyone and I've seen how hard he's been fighting for months against all he's been going through. He doesn't want to leave and we don't want him to go, not like this. So please, root for him, even though I know it's silly to think that'll do anything.

[manicrouge]

John Price and your hobbies

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝]: 823

I can imagine that Price is one of those people who just embrace everything that you love- why? Because he loves you of course! He loves to see you happy and he knows well that embracing your interests is the easiest way to your heart; all you have ever wanted is someone who likes what you do and he makes it his mission to fulfil that desire.

You're trying out a new recipe while baking sweets? Best believe he will be there helping you taste test every single flavour you make, and when you ask for his honesty, he will give you it. But he will say so softly, he won't try and ruin what you've made, not at all!

Think that needs a little more sugar, love.

Or, when you take up the hobby of writing, he will sit there in the living room, reading quietly while you're curled next to him with your head resting on his lap with your laptop open on the draft you printed just for him to read. And he will read it; he knows how much work you've been putting into what you're writing and he has a genuine admiration for anything you put your mind to. He thinks you're one of the smartest people he has ever met!

I don't know if it's good enough.

Seems pretty fuckin' good to me, sweetheart. My pretty talented girl, eh?

And when he's out on missions, he keeps drafts of what you've written on him for whenever he gets a moment of rest. Being unable to have contact with you for a while is brutal, though, he knows you're always with him in the words you have poured your heart into. You live through your art and your art lives through the articulation of you.

Not to mention when you decide to open a small business, nothing big, to sell art prints and stickers of your drawings... oh my goodness, this man cannot get enough of your creativity. To see you making art so freely and producing it for him to keep is a blessing. You make a new sticker? He'd buy you out of stock just to see you smile (also for his equipment back at the base... he's comfortable enough to rock your dainty flower stickers on the hilt of his knifes).

The fuck is that, Cap'n?

My girl made it, you want one for your throwin' knife?

And when you take up gaming with some of your friends, he'll sit on the sofa, sometimes having you sitting on his lap as you sit with a headset on your head, looking at the TV. It's some shooting game they persuaded you to try, and he sits with an amused look on his face, watching you kill the enemy, the occasional scoff or squeal of frustration escaping you when you get shot.

And when it comes to gun customisation on the game?

He has got you covered!!

Wouldn't it just be better if you could put a suppressor on a shotgun though... like, imagine how effective that would be.

You're overly passionate about this, love.

Yeah, well, you are underly passionate about this and this is something you do for work.

You will have the best gun in the game, and you'll sit with him even when your friends aren't online, listening to him giving you orders while playing- in true Captain fashion, of course. And, he even goes as far as buying an extra controller so he can play the game with you (also to beat you; the pair of you have a competitive streak and he isn't beyond using his expertise to frustrate you).

His heart especially melts when you seek interest in his hobbies and what he likes to do during his time off work. Even if you're not fond of his music, while he's away, you will walk around the house while cleaning with Led Zeppelin and Slipknot at full blast.

You been listenin' to my playlist while I've been gone?

Might've; I want more recommendations.

His eyes light up whenever he hears you humming a familiar tune whenever you're cooking or writing- doing anything, and he'll take a moment to just stand there and observe you with a smile on his face.

And you also both have an agreement with one another that, when he's away, you can with the TV shows the pair of you started together, although, you never do. If you ever want to, you'd rather watch the last episode the pair of you watch over and over again before ever thinking of committing such a crime.

It's the small things in your relationship, even living in the absence of one another that make everything so special, and the intimacy of something as little as interest is the one thing that has the pair of you falling head over heels for all each other over and over again <3

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

[that-ari-blogger]

The Aftermath

The Beacon is a very... disjointed episode. It has the unfortunate placement of between two episodes that are, in my opinion, the two best that the show has to offer, and it doesn't matter how good this episode is, it suffers in the contrast.

The Beacon is trying to set up The Promise and still recovering from No Princess Left Behind, which means that it struggles to tie both together without feeling like a ton of disconnected events.

So, for the sake of analysis, let's look at those events on their own, and see what they do for the story as a whole. Because some of them are really well written.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Catra's moments in this episode are genuinely some of the best little moments for her in the series. We see her kind nature start to show, ever so slightly. She is not kind, I want to stress this, a few actions do not make a redemption (yet), but we start to plant the seeds of that here.

In Entrapta's interrogation scene, we see Catra being manipulative, that much is obvious. But it's interesting how she does it. Catra doesn't belittle, or lie, or even seem disingenuous with her compliments, she is just aware that compliments lead to allegiances, and she is trying desperately to befriend the single smartest person on Etheria.

"You're not mad? People usually get mad." "Are you kidding?"

There is an empathy here with Catra. I mentioned in the previous post that everyone's greatest strength is their greatest weakness. And the same is true for Catra. She is exceedingly emotionally attuned. She sees herself in Entrapta, as the person left behind. The side effect of this is that she falls on her sword a bit when Adora leaves, but also in a weird, other way.

"Don't worry about that thing with Hordack. I've got plenty of experience getting yelled at... you get used to it."

Catra is talking to Shadow Weaver here, of all people. Why? Because she sees a person feeling low, and offers some condolences. Without concern for who she is, or what she has done. Catra offers a hand of peace. I want to stress that empathy isn't a weakness, that's not how this works, but it makes her easy prey for Shadow Weaver, because Catra is a child, a teenager, who is naive, and Shadow Weaver is evil.

But how does Shadow Weaver return the openness that Catra has displayed?

"I will not get used to mediocrity like you"

She returns kindness with an insult, and through her touch. Shadow Weaver desires power above all else, so when she is at her weakest, she tries to grab it from the one person she thinks she can mentally overpower.

This is why Catra is the way she is, any attempt at kindness is met with animosity for reasons she has no command in. But that little influence of Adora, and now Scorpia and even Entrapta, has kept the instinct alive. The empathy is there, just buried deep under the surface.

"I just wanted to prepare you for the world"

I love that Shadow Weaver has worked out her tactics are failing on Catra, so she tries giving the Adora treatment to her, and even that fails. I think that's rather satisfying. I pity her, but it is definitely gratifying to see her this low.

Shadow Weaver fits the same bill as everyone else in the series (strengths and weaknesses being the same), but she forms a weird parallel with Bow of all people. Shadow Weaver thinks big picture, she is the strategist, and she gets undermined time and again by the tiny things, such as personal determination, and unconditional love. This parallel isn't dwelled upon, but it's a neat thing to point out that Shadow Weaver's opposite isn't Catra or Adora, but Bow.

Speaking of Bow. The man is supportive of everyone, similarly to Sea Hawk. Bow still thinks big picture, but the difference between him and Shadow Weaver is that when Bow meets a wall, instead of thinking of a way to break it down, he finds another route. Bow is a strategist of the heart, making sure everyone is at their best and ready to step in to keep people's moral up, should they need it.

I also really like Glimmer's line:

"Your sorry is wrong and mine is right."

I think this is extremely revelatory about Glimmer, but that won't come up for a while.

Finally, there is Adora.

Under stress, she reverts. This is what Shadow Weaver did to her, she gave her a few set behaviours in response to certain stimuli. Notably, when scared, punch what I tell you. Shadow Weaver isn't here to give a target, so Adora decks the first thing she can get her hands on. Namely, this light.

There are other sections in the episode when she is in the background of other shots. And instead of just standing there, and looking apathetic, she shadow boxes. Adora cannot focus when she's directionless.

So naturally, she jumps at the opportunity to heal Glimmer, including possibly stabbing her, just to feel useful. Again, preprogrammed responses. She needs to feel useful, so she will run towards whomever is offering her that purpose.

"You want me to be weak? Well (Throws Sword), I am"

This leads into the above line. Adora believes she needs to be weak, and the first thing she does to achieve that is return to her original form and throw away her sword. Adora has associated strength with ability to achieve a given task. In this case, heal.

But the fascinating thing is how she goes about the accountability of failing. She has a weird internalisation of good things being She-Ra's fault, and bad things being Adora's fault. It's awful.

I'm going to finish this on a mildly happy note, because Glimmer and Angella have a really sweet interaction in this episode. Its the reassurance that a parent figure can offer. She offers support, and affirmation that this may not have worked, but it wasn't because of Glimmer's ideals, but her methods, which can be worked on.

Compare the following two lines.

"I will not get used to mediocrity like you" "We'll figure it out, together."

I have boldened a few words, because they reveal character quite nicely. One tries to separate the speaker from its subject, complete with an insult and a comparison, the other is supportive and constructive, and strives to make the listener understand this fact. Angella is a great mum.

Final Thoughts

This episode isn't particularly memorable. Which isn't its own fault. It is sandwiched by The Promise and No Princess Left Behind, which both render it rather uninspiring.

But this episode is actually quite decent. Its moments string together cohesively enough, and Marcus Scribner (Bow's Voice Actor) kills every line.

However, that opening sequence steals the show for me, as everyone leaves on their own way. That was why Entrapta's fake out death doesn't feel cheap. It actually hurts these people, and they don't get over it. This is a death that has its cake and eats it too, and that's a difficult thing to pull off. I think the thing that sells it is this is the only scene so far in the show (I think) in which Sea Hawk stays quiet, the events of the previous episode have managed to make the bard stop singing.

Previous - Next

[finniestoncrane]

hi hi hi!! could i get front row seats to a drama flick, with a glass of wine and some cherry ice cream, with with arkham!eddie? and congrats again on the 2k!!

thank you so much!! this is such a sweet idea and i love him being soft!! 💚🩷 cw: mostly fluff, a quick slap lmao 🔞minors dni🔞 send a request • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2k (to follow or to block)

Eddie's disgruntled murmuring echoed through his work room, loud enough to disrupt you where you sat in the corner, making an attempt at reorganising his pile of tools which had been tossed to the side in exhaustion.

You were quick to rush to him, to ease whatever stress had come over him. It was a frequent task, an unspoken responsiblity on your part. Edward did great things, maybe not in a moral sense, but in the sense that they were often immense, their consequences far reaching. And you were part of that, behind the scenes, making sure that his big brain cooled off before it exploded on him.

There was little reward for this, but it was better than most work in Gotham. And while Edward Nigma was a constant irritation to you, you'd grown to appreciate him for what he was, which helped when it came to comforting him.

"You'll get this, Eddie. You're so determined, perhaps to a fault. And though it pains me to stroke your ego, given how arrogantly large it already is, I will say that you are the smartest, the most creative and talented man I've ever met. You are amazing."

It wasn't until his hands were on the back of your head that you realised what was happening. His lips, the taste of his sweat, on yours, his calloused fingers running through your hair. In complete shock you pulled back, and in a knee jerk reaction you raised your hand and slapped him.

He didn't grimace. He didn't furrow his brows in anger. He stood there, confused, hurt, as his cheek reddened at the point of impact.

"What are you doing, Ed? That's not the kind of job I do. I'll comfort you, I'll try to deescalate, but I'm not just some quick way to relieve your stress-"

"You were kind. I appreciate it. I appreciate you."

It was the first time he had ever uttered any words of praise, any compliments in reference to you. You'd waited so long for it, given up hope, to the point where you immediately assumed his kiss was empty, an attempt to get rid of some tension and then get back to work. Not a genuine display of affection.

So you kissed him back, surprising him even more than he had you, sinking into his arms as he bravely wrapped them around you, tentatively of course, in case you decided to hit him again. He wasn't stupid, after all.

[gareleia]

THE KNITTING SAGA BUT HERMES IS A DUMMY

update: my co-writer friend FINALLY got a tumblr account, so I can tag them now!!

previously: part 1 part 2 part 3

next: part 5

m'kay, so, we've talked about Athena & Telemachus' issues. now let's touch on Hermes, because a Diva™ like him deserves his own post. and also because this had been sitting in my notes for so long i've genuinely forgotten about it (i'd say that it's what translating a musical does to you, but honestly my attention span is just shit)

now, as much as I love Soft Boi!Hermes, I even more so love prankster Hermes who doesn't really recognize personal boundaries or the meaning of 'too far'. he's the guy who'll commit to the bit so far, he'll commit mass murder with a Tee-Hee and genuinely wonder what has got everyone so upset.

kid!Telemachus, holding a cup of poison: grandpa, are you sure it's a good idea? I'm scared… Hermes, laughing his ass off in the corner: of course I'm sure, champ! it'll be hilarious! good ol' game of Ithacean Roulette! now dump it into the wine, let's see who we'll get this time!

at the same time, he's not selfish. he's very keen on doing things for the people he likes, and he cares enough to know when someone is distressed. he, as a god, is just so removed from traditional human morality that casual acts of cruelty are perfectly acceptable to him, while, for example, breaking an oath is a horrible sin.

think blue and orange morality stuff.

telemachus, outraged: …murdered his own family, can you imagine? hermes, equally outraged: I know, right? he gave a blood oath and broke it! disgusting! telemachus: why is that your only concern?!

but don't worry, helping to raise Telemachus and hanging around the same people consistently makes a real boy outta him gives him enough time and insight into humanity to start understand mortals better, and, as consequence, adopt some of their values.

especially the concept of spousal loyalty. Hermes is a patron god of thieves, and at the time taking someone's wife was viewed as an act of theft (because women were property, yeeesh). which is why to him Penelope's situation was less of a tragedy and more of a "well, my dumbass great-grandson Odysseus should've seen it coming. snooze you lose! ¯_(ツ)_/¯"

that is, until he gets to know her better. and suddenly she's not a prize to be won or a challenge to conquer. she's a smart, capable person that commands respect from anyone who's got a shred of self-awareness. she's got gentle hands, and a radiant smile, and a spine of steel. Penelope looked Hermes dead in the eyes and told him serenely to keep being a good influence on her son, she does not deserve to be reduced to a token and given away to the highest bidder.

hermes, initially: well, penelope's a rich, gorgeous, basically single queen. I'd steal her too, if she was my type. hermes, 10 years later: she's the smartest, ballsiest human woman I've ever met and if she only wants her Ugly Ass Groom then she'll fucking stay single until he comes back.

unfortunately for everyone else, Hermes cannot step in to protect her, because Zeus and Poseidon are both pissed off at Odysseus already, and if either of them notices Hermes (and/or Athena) interfering with mortals on Ithaca, they might take it as an invitation to follow suit, and then it'll be Troy Story 2: Electric Boogaloo.

so he stays his hand, and hangs around Telemachus discreetly, mostly posing as a human. for a god of liars, he's surprisingly bad at blending in for long periods of time. Hermes thinks he's an awesome conspirator. meanwhile little Telemachus didn't even realise it was a secret.

the only people who don't know that [insert alias] is a god in disguise are the suitors, who are notoriously either too stupid, too overconfident or too busy drinking to connect the dots. the exception is Antinous who pretends to be oblivious and makes sure the gods don't see him as a threat to their beloved little pup (otherwise he'd have killed the prince long ago).

the suitors, however, unanimously agree that they hate this weird annoying stranger, and try to get rid of him in increasingly elaborate ways, from poison to stabbing to wild animals to dropping pots on his head.

spoiler alert: it doesn't work.

hermes, next day: *comes back every morning like nothing had happened, whistling cheerily* suitors: WHY WON'T YOU DIE?!

eventually Antinous convinces them to give up so they don't piss off Hermes.

years pass, Telemachus grows. Athena teaches him strategy and arts of war. Aeolus gradually comes out of the hiding and becomes the resident lovable comic relief side character. and Hermes? he teaches the kid all the good stuff.

and it's not just lying, okay? (though it's a significant part of it) music, diplomacy, geography, street smarts, some history. he's a worldly god, had observed and been a part of countless cultures. above all else, he knows people. he may not really understand them, but he knows how to get what he wants from them, how to find common ground and how to spin things to get along with practically anyone.

and girls. Hermes helps Telemachus with girls.

because he's the cool uncle figure that Telemachus admires, the kid trusts him enough to ask the god for advice when he starts growing older and gets his first crush in his early teens.

and, on one hand, Hermes is ecstatic. on the other one…

telemachus, blushing and stuttering: there's a girl I met, she's so pretty, and cool, and, and, and how do I talk to her, do I just come up and say hi, but what if sh- hermes: … hermes: *blue screen of death* hermes: MY BABY-

it's the first time he truly starts to grasp how short the kid's life will be. because in the blink of an eye he turned from a newborn to an adolescent, and soon enough he'll have his own family, and Odysseus was already a king himself at this age, and Hermes is not ready this can't be it he can't just grow old and die

so anyway, he pushes the thought aside and pretends it never came up at all (because that always works, and bottling shit up never blows up in anyone's face, right, Athena?)

he gives lots of advice, from useless macho stuff to golden nuggets like "be yourself" and "show her respect". and, of course, he cheers from the sidelines, hiding 'inconspicuously'.

and it goes surprisingly well. the girl appears to find Telemachus' awkward attempts at flirting sweet and charming, and the boy is on the cloud nine.

but Hermes isn't. because, unlike the prince, his judgment isn't clouded by a puppy crush and he can see that the girl is actually a lying bitch, who's playing Telemachus like a fiddle, hoping to become the next queen of Ithaca. and he won't stand for it.

except Telemachus, for some reason, doesn't seen thrilled when Hermes tells him to dump the girl?? he flat out refuses to believe that, because love is blind and so are sheltered insecure teenage boys.

so Hermes, in his infinite wisdom, decides to prove to his naive little charge once and for all that the girl is just using him and doesn't actually love him. now, what's the first example of true selfless love from a woman that comes to mind to the god who had spent the last few years hanging out with the royal family of Ithaca? right, Penelope. and the one thing that characterises Penelope is her unconditional loyalty, even into the face of countless threats and temptations.

hermes, to himself: so, if I show the kid that the bitch will leave him as soon as she finds a better prospect, he will definitely admit I was right all along! and dump her! it's a perfect, easy, foolproof plan! I am so smart! what could possibly go wrong!

another spoiler alert: everything goes wrong.

the girl does happily jump into his arms as soon as he hints that he's a god/demi-god/just a cooler prince or something. she does it right in front of Telemachus, in fact, so there's no way he'd be able to deny the obvious.

on the bright side, Hermes immediately outs her as a lying bitch and publicly shames her, embarrassing her family and ruining her prospects of marriage and causing her to suffer for the rest of her life ('disproportionate revenge'? what's that?).

on the down side, for some unfathomable reason, Telemachus doesn't seem very grateful??? what???????

hermes: and so, AS ALWAYS, I was right. telemachus: hermes: but please, hold your applause! telemachus: hermes: I did it all for you, out of the goodness of my heart! telemachus: hermes: and please, don't apologize! you were wrong, I get it! no need to- telemachus: *bitch slaps his smug face and runs away, hurt and betrayed* hermes: *shocked pikachu face*

thing is, Hermes doesn't understand what he did wrong. in his mind he did a rather good deed: showed the liar's true colors, and spared the kid a lot of heartache down the line. he doesn't understand the feelings of betrayal from having someone he trusts explicitly outing him as a naive fool in front of everyone he ever dreamed of earning respect from. doesn't get the pain of having been cast aside by someone he liked in favor of a god, with whom he could never compete. can't imagine living in the shadow of someone he had never even known and being constantly reminded of all the ways he's lacking.

telemachus: I'm not a stupid child, hermes. I could've handled it. hermes: but you didn't listen to me, maybe you'd have never seen it on your own- telemachus: and maybe I would've. maybe I would've had the opportunity to find out myself, and maybe I would've learned from it, but you never gave me that choice, did you?! did you think i'm that dumb?! hermes: oh, come on, kid, you're not dumb- telemachus: THEN WHY DO YOU TREAT ME LIKE I AM?! WHY DON'T YOU EVER TRUST ME?!

aaaaand there's the core issue. Telemachus had spent his whole life being babied at best and looked down upon at worst. constantly compared to Odysseus and his more vicious peers, always shielded from making tough decisions and proving himself. he feels like he will never amount to anything, because no one ever lets him really try. as soon as it looks like he's going to make a mistake, someone (usually Athena, Aeolus or Hermes) swoops in and 'fixes' everything for him, just like they used to do when he was an accident-prone toddler. which he isn't anymore.

and Hermes doesn't understand that. to him, ten years is basically nothing. the kid can't have changed that much in ten years. because if he did, then he'll change a lot in the next ten years, and the next, and very soon he won't change anymore, because ten years are nothing and so are human livespans.

ten years are nothing, because to admit otherwise would force Hermes to face the fact that Telemachus, no matter how precious, is just as mortal as any other human. which amounts to basically losing him already. and Hermes can't.

he held that boy as an infant. he fed him, helped to teach him walk and talk and make silly faces. he can't lose this child to time, the one thing even gods can't really protect humans from.

Penelope finds Hermes sitting on her balcony with the most human expression on his face she'd ever seem him wear. he's lost, and confused, and full of regrets, and kind of terrified. in that aspect, he reminds her painfully of her husband.

hermes, mumble: he's growing older penelope, sighing: I know hermes: he's not a baby anymore penelope: believe me, I know hermes: but... what do I do now??? penelope: you let it happen. not much else you can do.

she talks him through it.

hermes, rambling: but I will lose him. I'll lose him if he grows old and dies. this is why I don't get attached to mortals, you die too soon. he can't die now. penelope: he's not going to die now. he'll become the king first, he will find a good wife and have children and grandchildren. he will become great, greater that I and his father could ever dream of. and he'll be happy. don't you want to see that? hermes: I do, but- I don't want him to grow up! penelope: then you finally know the biggest joy and the deepest pain of parenthood.

it doesn't fix his fear. doesn't fix his pain, either. but it does help fix his attitude.

because she's right. Telemachus is growing old, and he can't shelter and protect the boy forever. soon he'll become a man, then an elder. and there's nothing Hermes can do about it, short of dragging the prince to Olympus and begging Zeus to grant him immortality, which will never work.

Hermes and Telemachus make up, of course. the latter knows, deep down, that the former is just trying to take care of him. they make up and forget the fight - at least, the boy does.

Hermes will always remember.

and he will count every day, every wrinkle, every grey hair.

the joy and pain of parenthood indeed.

[mister-eames]

hii! mustn’t be afraid nonnie here .. your words are absolutely wonderful seriously!! Thank you for putting so beautifully.. so here’s another one..

What’s with the deal of “speCIFICITY”? I mean it’s once again, loving improvised by mr Hardy and we would never know why (I guess?) but given in A/E context I feel like it’s either because of one of their past incidents (idk may be once Arthur didn’t take something eames specifically asked for or sth) or OR eames making fun of the using fancy word by Arthur who is actually from a working class family in contrary to eames being from a family who uses such words quite often? Or what do you think? Have a lovely day!!

Hello nonnie and welcome back!!! Thank you for both questions, they're very thought-provoking!! <3

I must say I've always loved the idea that 'specificity' is the latter scenario. I'm convinced of the idea of street-rat Arthur who is self-taught, who doesn't have a fancy education -- mispronounces words/names accidentally, isn't always grammatically correct, despite often being the smartest person in the room. And that, no matter Arthur's attempts to appear refined, and how he can fool everyone else, Eames can tell how rough he is around the edges from a mile away. Maybe when they first met Arthur was seemed read, well-travelled, but gave his inexperience and unconventional education away by mispronouncing words like homage, ingénue, or gist with a hard 'g'. Maybe Arthur can cite pi to the nth place but has never read Vonnegut.

It's not that Eames thinks Arthur is, or has ever been, dumb, that he's not intelligent. It's just that Eames remembers how far Arthur's come, but is also very much the same. He's still that same twenty-something who hates Sunday drivers and will flip off a belligerent stranger on a crowded street and drink cheap, bottom-shelf liquor to save a dime. Now he's just dressed better and can fool others to think he was born with a silver spoon.

Eames, it seems in the case of Arthur, cannot help pigtail pulling. We see him being a bit more of a lad when he's aiming for levity and genuinely taking the piss out of someone ("too much champagne, eh Yusuf?" and making Saito visibly uncomfortable with his forge) but with Arthur he is purposefully trying to rile him up, to poke and prod him until Eames gets prodded back. With 'specificity' and 'condescension' and kicking Arthur's chair, Eames isn't going in for a laugh for the sake of laughing, he's pre-pre-pre-pre courting. Classic 'pay attention to me' behaviour. Eames is exactly like a patellar reflex test - he knows exactly where to tap to get the reaction from Arthur he wants.

And then Arthur looks at Eames with impatience and that something in his eyes and Eames thinks ah, there you are.

[ashbrat488]

Foul Play - Chapter 35

August 2023

"Are you absolutely certain about this, Millicent?" Darren inquired as he handed her the bouquet.

"Absolutely." Her reply was swift and resolute as she met her father's gaze, her confusion evident. "Do you not like Henry?"

Darren chuckled, his hands gently resting on her arms as he nodded affectionately. "Sweetheart, I want you to know that it's not about whether I like Henry or not, or whether I think he's the right fit for you. My concern lies in the fact that you two haven't been together for very long."

Millicent sighed softly, a smile gracing her lips as she looked at her father. "I understand your worries about us moving quickly, but we've had countless discussions about this, and we're absolutely certain. We're deeply in love and eager to be married."

Darren nodded, his knuckles brushing lightly against her cheek, a tender smile on his lips. "Very well then. You look beautiful today, sweetheart. I'm immensely proud of you. You are a strong and capable woman and i know you will go far."

"Thank you, Daddy." Millicent's smile widened as she leaned into the gentle touch of his hand on her cheek.

"All right." Darren cleared his throat, offering his arm to her. "Let's get you married."

Millicent nodded, following her father out of her former bedroom. "I appreciate you allowing us to use your home."

"I'll always be here for you, no matter what you need. That's a promise."

A tear welled in her eye as she smiled up at her father while they approached the back door. She took a deep breath as the doors swung open, revealing Henry standing at the far end of the aisle adorned with white rose petals. A smile blossomed on her face as her eyes locked with Henry's, the setting sun casting a warm glow behind him. She began her walk toward him, accompanied by her father.

As they reached the end of the aisle, Darren pressed a loving kiss to her cheek and placed her hand in Henry's. "Take good care of her."

Henry nodded, his smile radiant. "I promise."

Millicent handed her bouquet to Abby with a joyful smile before turning back to Henry, their hands entwined. She nibbled on her lower lip as Henry beamed at her, his gaze unwavering as the priest commenced the ceremony. Millicent's heart raced, and though she missed some of the priest's words, she felt the warmth in Henry's hands as he began his vows.

"Millicent," he started, his voice quivering with emotion, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears, "you are the most wonderful person I know. The first time our lips met remains the best day of my life. I have never met anyone kinder or more compassionate. You are the smartest, most beautiful woman I've ever known, and every day, you make me a better man. I promise to prove every day that I am worthy of being your partner in all aspects of life and I can't wait to be able to see you as a mother one day."

Her voice trembled with emotion, and he could feel the depth of her love in every word. "You make me happier than I ever thought possible, Henry," she continued, her voice filled with sincerity. "Every day, I fall more in love with you. I never knew what true happiness was until I found you. I am so grateful for the love and support you show me daily. You make me so happy, and I promise to always be your biggest fan."

The love between her and Henry was palpable, and it filled the air with warmth and happiness. The priest smiled, clearly moved by the genuine love between the couple, and said, "With the vows you have exchanged, and the rings you are about to give to each other, you have expressed your love and commitment. It is now my great pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife."

Cheers erupted from the small crowd as Henry and Millicent beamed at each other. Henry cradled the back of her head gently, pulling her in for a passionate kiss. He released her reluctantly, squeezing her hand. "I love you so much, Shortcake."

She couldn't hold back the smile as she pressed another kiss to his lips. "I love you too."

***

Henry placed his hand on Millicent's lower back, pulling her body flush against his as their first dance song began. She wrapped both arms around his neck with a warm smile. "You know, it's a shame we can't sneak away to consummate our marriage," she teased with a smirk.

Henry chuckled, darting his tongue out over his lips. "Maybe if we had a bigger wedding, it would be less noticeable if we vanished for a bit. But you're the one that insisted on something small."

She shrugged slightly, glancing around at their families and friends. "I didn't want to be surrounded by a bunch of people I don't know on the happiest day of my life."

He grinned with adoration at her, bringing his hand up to stroke her cheek. "I completely agree. My beautiful wife..."

She blushed slightly, sliding her hand up into his hair as she leaned in to close the distance between them. "My handsome husband," she murmured as she pressed her lips against his. She let her lips linger briefly against his, savoring the taste of him as she ran her hand down the back of his head. His eyes drifted closed, his lips parted slightly as his tongue darted out to brush against hers.

He pulled back abruptly with a sheepish grin. "We'll have to wait until later for more..."

She nodded, her breath hitching as she brought her thumb up to rub some lipstick off his lower lip. "I can't wait."

***

Henry's breath catches and he leaps to his feet at the sight of Millicent entering the bedroom in white lingerie. Her see-through lace bra was accompanied by a matching white thong. "Wow... Shortcake..."

She blushed, wrapping her arms timidly around herself. She knew that Henry found her attractive, but still, she couldn't help her own insecurities sometimes. "Is it okay? I wanted to wear something sexy for our wedding night."

Henry chuckled slightly, approaching her to grab her hands from herself. "Don't ever hide yourself from me. And you look fucking amazing."

She ran her hands up his hair-covered chest to encircle his neck as he pulled her against him. "Show me how amazing, Henry."

"I plan to... all fucking night," he promised, eliciting a giggle from her before he sealed his mouth over hers.

Their mouths slid against each other hungrily as he brought her body against his, her legs straddling his waist as she ground into him. She moaned softly, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly as he ran his hands along her back, pressing her body closer to his. Their bodies began to writhe against each other, passion building between them as their tongues danced with one another.

He twirled her toward the bed, collapsing atop the sheets together. "You're so perfect, Millicent," he whispers, pressing a small kiss to her lips as he undid her bra slowly. He pulled it off, tossing it onto the ground behind him. He grabbed her waist, flipping her onto her stomach as he straddled her. He leaned forward, laying kisses along her spine as she shivered under him.

She moaned as she felt him drag his hands down her shoulder blades and back until he reached her thong. He slid it off, tossing it aside as well as his boxers. He gave her ass an appreciative smack before dipping down to take a small bite as she giggled. "Henry!"

"Sorry, it's just so cute..."

She wiggled her ass beneath him playfully as he took another bite of her ass. She cried out in surprise when his hand landed roughly across her bottom, eliciting a yelp from her as he laughed quietly. He kissed her neck softly as she shuddered with pleasure. "Stop teasing me, Henry," she whined, her fingers digging into his hair. "Make love to me."

He smirked, biting her shoulder lightly before turning her onto her back, her nipples hard with anticipation. He pressed himself against her, his hands roaming up her thighs and sides until he finally reached her breasts. He began to fondle them roughly as he sucked on her neck, relishing the feel of her soft skin against his lips. She gasped as he brought his fingers down her front, parting her legs slightly as he stroked his fingertips along her sensitive flesh.

She began to whimper softly, pressing her palms against the mattress as she dug her nails into the sheets beneath her. She watched him closely, fascinated by the way his eyes lit up with desire as he stroked her breast, her pink nipple darkening as his hand covered it. She held her breath as he bit down gently on her breast, her body arching into his mouth as her moans filled the room. He swiped his thumb across her nipple, causing her to cry out, feeling his finger slide inside of her. He groaned as he inserted another finger inside of her, rubbing his thumb over her clit gently.

He leaned down, kissing her neck as he whispered seductively against her ear, "Tell me what you want."

She could barely form a coherent thought, moaning incoherently as she clutched at the bedsheets. "I want you inside of me, Henry," she whimpered.

His fingers stopped their rhythm, leaving her frustrated. "Not yet," he told her softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he lowered his head to capture one of her trembling nipples in his mouth. He rolled his tongue around the tip of her nipple, enjoying the pleasurable sounds that escaped her lips as he massaged her other breast with his other hand. He ran his fingers down her side and back again, stopping just short of where her hips joined her torso. He looked up at her, his expression serious as he whispered, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she whispered, "please, Henry."

"Shh," he told her soothingly, his voice deepening as he pressed his cock against her entrance. "You're going to feel so good."

She whimpered softly as he pushed forward, allowing her to adjust to his size before withdrawing once again. As he entered her a second time, her walls squeezed him tightly, making him moan. He began to thrust harder, watching her intently as he did so. Her moans became louder, filling the room as he leaned forward to suck on her nipples again. He grasped her waist firmly, pulling her back towards him as he pushed deeper inside of her. She bit down on her lip, trying to stifle the cries that threatened to escape.

"I want to hear you, Shortcake. Moans, whimpers, screams. I want it all. Don't hold back," he groaned in response, his thrusts becoming faster as he thrust deep inside of her.

"Please, Henry," she pleaded.

"So pretty..." he moaned against her throat as he rubbed his thumb over her clit. "Your pussy feels so tight."

She gripped the sheets, closing her eyes tightly as her orgasm overtook her. Her moans echoed through the room as he rode out his own release. They collapsed on top of each other, panting softly as they struggled to catch their breaths. She tilted her head up to stare at him with an adoring gaze. "That was amazing," she whispered softly.

He pulled her closer, smiling softly as he nuzzled her neck. "Don't get too comfortable there. I'm not nearly done with you yet."

She giggled as he turned her onto her back, pinning her under him as he crushed his mouth against hers and she knew she would be getting minimal sleep.

Epilogue

[livelaughwhump]

27, 34, 37 for the ask game, Karine

From this ask game

27. What do you think about whumpee?

"Elliot is one of the smartest, sweetest, most genuine human beings I've ever met. He's such a great kid and I wish there was more I could do to help him out of this."

34. Isn't there someone you're forgetting to take care of? (Yourself, stupid)

"Honestly, no. Since there's so many of us, we all have plenty of opportunities to take care of ourselves. Lyra’s really the only one that doesn't take advantage of those opportunities."

36. Have you ever killed? Would you?

"I have on missions, but only when it's absolutely necessary. I've never liked killing and I never will, but if it came down to it, I would kill anyone to protect my family. However, there is one person on this planet that I'd be happy to kill."

[stackhouse1996]

I knew the feeling but not what it meant.

When we spoke when were young I knew you had my heart and you still did in 2020 and onwards. You're absolutely funny, you're the smartest woman I've ever met and you're make my melt everytime when you look at me with those big adorable dimples of yours and pretty brown eyes that remind me of a mountain terrain and nature, something subtle but beautiful in every form and every season.

I didn't know what that love meant later on, it's not like the movies or TV shows. Those are just couple hours at a time for a love plot and they only show the big moments or only what we want to see. Love isn't as simple as making this declaration of devotion and easy peasy there is forgiveness or reunion. People are more complex.

We got so caught up in the moment of finally having each other we didn't think about how too fast we were moving things. We didn't think about finances. I didn't hold up my part of the bargain with the car. We didn't think about the possibility of the clashing personalities of the independent woman and the recovering manchild bickering about something almost weekly.

Love isn't easy. Love is about communicating effectively with your person so they can have that net of emotional safety. It's about understanding what your partner explains to you that upset them and hear them out by validating their feelings and love them better in the future and do your best to not repeat those mistakes. Love is about patience. It's about having that foresight to talk to them effectively to solve any conflicts and not use anger to fuel an arguement because that loops into a circle of fights that tries to find the bad guy in each scenario. I don't want to do that anymore.

Love can't work if i continously blame other outside things and hold myself responsible. If I think about it more and more I can think of any excuse for any given situation " I didn't break the glass cup, gravity did!" or "the mop pad is dirty that's why I'm having trouble mopping!" Despite the fact just seconds ago it was mopping just fine. This behavior is something im still trying to unlearn because it's been deep rooted in my being for so long I genuinely believe I'm a bad person that deserves the worst if I admit that mistake instead of being defensive. Even as I'm writing this a part of me scoffs at the chance im actually a good person that can make a mistake. This behavior can be changed for the better. I will do what I need to heal mentally.

[jiminsproof]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU 😘🎉🎂🥳🎈🎊🎁 Probably the thing I hate most about tumblr is meeting someone who is the absolute coolest nicest funniest sweetest smartest person that I would absolutely love to hang out with and they have the audacity to live thousands of miles from me on the other side of an ocean!!! Natalia my dear, I hope you have the best day. Listen to Christmas Evel on repeat and annoy everyone around you. I love you so much 💗💗💗

APRYL 😭😭😭💗💗💗💗

Thank you so, SO MUCH 😭😭😭 I'm so grateful that we could become friends thanks to tumblr and I hope with all my heart that we'll hang out one day, as you're one of the most amazing, genuine human beings I've ever met!! And you always know how to improve my mood!!! 😭😭🩷 I love you tons!! 🫂🩷 OBVIOUSLY I MADE EVERYONE AS ANNOYED WITH MY KPOP TUNES AS POSSIBLE! Rule number 1 there is no celebrating Natalia WITHOUT HER CHOOSING THE PLAYLIST

SENDING SO MANY HUGS YOUR WAY 🫂💗

[mysxfit]

It breaks my heart to see people drive by homeless shelters or other places where people in need gather, only to judge, mock, or belittle them. It's not uncommon for some to call them "druggies," or accuse them of being bad people, and some may even be rude to them when they ask for help. But who are we to judge? The fact is that most of these people are struggling and need our compassion, not our condemnation.

When you give money to someone in need, it's theirs to use as they see fit. It's not our place to tell them what to do with it or assume they will use it for drugs or alcohol. We should be grateful that we're in a position to help someone in need and show them respect, regardless of what they do with the money.

It takes a lot of courage for a grown adult to ask for help, and we shouldn't make things worse by belittling or mocking them. They are human beings with feelings, families, and struggles just like the rest of us. Instead of judging or making assumptions, we should try to help in any way we can. Maybe we can offer some food or warm clothing, or ask if they need assistance with something specific.

Drugs and alcohol are a big problem, and it's easy to assume that anyone who asks for help is using the money to feed an addiction. But that's not always the case. Some people turn to drugs to stay awake or keep warm, and there are many other reasons as well. We shouldn't make assumptions or judge them for it.

The people in these situations have morals and codes just like anyone else, and many of them are some of the strongest, smartest, and most genuine people I've ever met. They stick together because it's safer and easier that way. They're grateful for any kindness and support they receive, even if it's just a smile or a helping hand.

No one is better than anyone else, and we should all show respect and love to those who genuinely need it. So, the next time you see someone in need, remember that they're someone's grandparent, child, parent, or family member. A little bit of compassion goes a long way....

[unashamedly-enthusiastic]

From snootbottle01 on r/offmychest

I was born with congenital heart defects. I had multiple heart surgeries as a child and spent so much time in the ICU that I knew the entire staff and had at one point spent more time in the hospital than at home. My parents had me when they were older and really didn't have the energy anymore. My health drained their energy and I was really considered a nuisance. My mother was often annoyed with me and my father focused on work.

As a kid in the ICU after surgery, or pneumonia, or a complication, you're often in pain, scared and unable to help yourself. I was frequently on ventilators, tied to a bed and unable to move. The only person who ever seemed to care was a nurse practitioner named Phil. He helped me develop a way to communicate when I was intubated. He would help me get comfortable, figure out what was wrong and not only did he do simple things like touch my hand or adjust my hair, he actually looked at me. When he was on, I felt like I wasn't so alone. He'd make bad jokes, help me when I was itchy and he'd make sure I was okay. The doctors and so many nurses looked past you. They went about their job, sometimes making remarks as if you weren't there. Sometimes he could only stop and chat for a couple of minutes, but he chatted with me and I felt like someone finally noticed me.

He was always so gentle and made sure he minimized discomfort. One morning they removed a orogastric tube and tried to place a nasogastric tube. They failed over and over. I wanted to scream but couldn't. The drugs weren't helping and they wanted to ween me off the vent, so I felt everything. By the third attempt they got Phil who numbed my nose and throat, rolled me, got it on the first attempt. He wrapped me in warm blankets, put on soft music and I passed out.

Over several years, he was consistently the one person I could trust. He had learned what worked for me, he knew my situation and he had really worked to find ways to make my stay comfortable. When he was on shift, I felt like I had an ally, someone I could trust. He was closer to me than my parents. Phil knew me better and genuinely seemed to care. He helped me do things that weren't in his job description, like washing my hair or helping with homework. He was an advocate for me, especially when the residents wanted to send me for more invasive testing. He would explain everything so I could understand but also contextualize the situation. I felt smarter when he talked to me. He would notice when I was concerned about something and would help understand what was going on and calm me down. That was a huge burden off my shoulders.

He was like a mother and father. He was also my only real friend.

The last time I saw him was the last time I was in the ICU. The day before I left he said goodbye as he was going to CRNA school. He shook my hand, told me that I was owed a few years and that he knew I would do just fine. I didn't want to get emotional, so I made a joke and said "BYE!" in a funny/sarcastic way. I wanted to scream. I missed my friend. I was 13 years old and too cool to tell him what I wanted to say. I always regretted that.

I moved hundreds of miles away. I survived hyper anxiety during COVID and a year locked away. I finally go to the grocery store and as I'm walking in, I see a familiar face putting on a mask. I stop in my tracks. He notices me. I figure he couldn't possibly remember me, and then he goes "well, if it isn't little Katie [last name]!" I burst into tears. Instead of being awkward or trying to escape me, we sat in front of the grocery store and talked. I told him EVERYTHING I wanted to tell him. I got to meet his wife and his child. I got to tell her what he had done for me.

I couldn't believe that we'd randomly be in the same town at the same time and that I would finally get to say what I had wanted to tell him for years. It was so nice hearing about becoming a CRNA, and working with children still. I felt so happy to finally get closure and to know that not only is he okay, but that he knows how I feel.

My childhood was awful. I don't miss the illness, but at least the one person who put any effort into getting to know me now knows how much I appreciate them. To look at him, you wouldn't believe that he was a nurse, or that he was so kind. Before becoming an NP, he had been in the Marines. He looks like a tough dude, but he's genuinely the nicest, smartest person I've ever met.

[mysterystarz]

kairosclerosis:

summary: oikawa knew that he was happy, so then why was it so difficult to preserve that feeling?

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

word count: 1.4k

genres + themes: reverse comfort, angst

warnings: a lot of oikawa's inner thoughts, mentions of self-doubt

a/n: so this was a very self-indulgent fic (inspired a lot by this word and perfectly wrong by shawn mendes) and kind of encompasses a lot of feelings that i've been experiencing sometimes, but i feel like this was one of the things i've written that i'm kind of happy about ! i hope you enjoy this <3

Happiness was a feeling that was always difficult for Oikawa to identify. There were moments in which he could confidently taste the sensation on his tongue, a golden sort of taste that brightened his soul from the inside out, but other times, it was almost indecipherable to the other emotions that he seemed to find.

Why was it so complicated?

He often found himself sitting late at night, wondering how, if anything, people seemed to find glory in every glance, while he had to spread himself thin just to catch a glimpse. It was a question that drove him in circles in some of his lonelier moments, a constant reminder to the way he could never find the same sort of...fulfillment as others did.

It was something that bothered him with his late night practices, serving ball after ball across the gym, until the burning in his muscles was enough to drown out the feelings of inferiority he seemed to feel.

Happiness was as good as an illusion. To Oikawa, the feeling was far too short lived, far too fleeting to even be considered as a reality.

The day he discovered what happiness could be, was the day he met you.

It had been a normal day by all standards, the sunshine casting it’s glow delicately onto the buildings and the numerous sakura trees that lined the entrances of Aoba Johsai. It was a lovely spring day, one with the type of breeze that struck a freshness into everyone’s hearts, as well as their minds.

He liked these types of days for the simple pleasures he could indulge in. Eating his milk bread, he could pretend for a small moment that he was just another highschool boy, somebody who could make fun of Iwa-chan while being made fun of by Makki and Mattsun. He didn’t need to shoulder the expectations of the world, but he could still reach for the stars, and even hold one in his hands. It was why these days brought a rare sort of feeling, and it was why he managed to treasure them when they came around.

It had been on one of these days where you had strolled into the gym during practice, a concentrated, yet polite look on your face as you handed their coach your manager application, a gentle smile on your features when it had been accepted. You had done your job as manager to perfection, and he felt the morale of his team increase with every praise you sent in their direction.

Never him though.

He knew his sets weren’t as accurate as Kageyama’s, but they were still consistently improving. He didn’t expect praise from anyone, and yet found himself doubting his abilities when your calculated eyes didn’t make a comment on them. It was a neutrality of sorts. You never wrote it as a point of improvement, yet never complimented them.

Did that mean he was average?

The darkness enveloped his surroundings as he served again, his knee straining uncomfortably. He had been in the gym for hours now, doing anything, to get his mind off the precedent of facing Shiratorizawa the next day. It was a thought that nagged at him.

What if he wasn’t good enough?

Oikawa was supposed to be happy. He was happy for sure. His team had won the earlier matches, and cheers of their school name and the sight of his school colors was enough to send a wave of warmth and pride straight to his chest.

The way he felt defeating Tobio was one he savored continuously, the very thought of him beating one of his own demons fueling his morale incredibly.

So then why was it that he felt this way still?

Ah. No matter how many victories he held in his pocket, he could still never shake the way he always managed to lose somewhere else. He won against Tobio due to skill and observation. Was that really him and his team? Or was it just the circumstances?

A final serve over the net had him kneeling down, a million thoughts enveloping him at once.

Happiness wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

He wasn’t even sure what it was supposed to feel like. All he knew was the way he picked apart the scenarios, wishing time after time that the feeling would linger long enough. Call him goal oriented, but surely his ambition would allow him to truly appreciate the way something seemingly light hearted and accomplished would be like.

“Oikawa. Are you okay?”

He suddenly looked up, only to find your concerned face across the gym. You jogged over to him, water bottle in hand as you examined his position. He was on the floor now...somehow.

When had he fallen over?

“I’m alright Y/N-chan.” He smiled charmingly, “What brings you here now?”

“You’re lying,” you sighed, tossing him the water bottle. “Drink this, and then try that sentence again.”

He hesitantly took a sip of the water, feeling it soothe his insides until suddenly, he had downed the whole bottle itself. A glance in your direction saw him identifying a knowing look in your eyes as you smiled back at him, almost gently.

“You have to rest before the game tomorrow you know,” you chuckled, joining him onto the floor. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

“Why are you here?” Was what he asked instead, watching the way your expression never changed. “Aren’t you supposed to be at home?”

“Iwaizumi-kun told me something like this could happen,” you admitted, “I hoped I wouldn’t find you here, but here we are.”

He found himself brightening slightly at the thought. He knew that Iwaizumii cared. Behind the gruff and tough persona he put on, he cared deeply for everyone he was close to, always worrying for their well being and putting all of himself into ensuring that.

He must have told you about all the past times he’s been in situations like these.

But then why was it you that came? You were one of the smartest students in their class, and even despite that, you somehow made time to juggle all your other obligations.

He was important....to you?

“I’m here because I care about you Tooru,” you said, hesitantly ghosting your fingers over his cheekbones. “Please, don’t internalize what you’re feeling. I’ll provide you answers to anything you ask me, but please, just speak your thoughts. They’ve been troubling you, and that troubles me to know that.”

“What does it take to feel content, Y/N?” He questioned, feeling his confidence spike momentarily. “What is contentness when there’s always something new to climb for?”

“It’s where you can look at your achievements and feel like you’ve done something worthwhile.” You smiled, “But there’s something deeper than that. What makes you overwork yourself when you’re one of the best?”

“I’ve never been good enough to get completely to the top!” He groaned. “There’s always been obstacles and a victory...it makes me happy but it never lasts! Why can’t it last?”

“Hey,” you said, leaning slightly closer, “Maybe it’s because you never believe that you deserve the happiness you feel. I think you deserve this and a whole lot more you know.”

He turned his head upwards to meet your eyes, reassuring and genuine at his predicament. Perhaps what you had said had some truth to it.

Yet he still felt something weighing him down.

“I just want to feel on top of the world for real one day,” he admitted, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Yet anytime I try to, it always just disappears. I’m practicing so maybe we have a chance at winning tomorrow. I’ve tried so hard, but somehow the talent always beats that.”

“Tooru…it’s alright to let it out you know.” You placed a hand gently on top of his, a hesitant act that he found quite endearing. “How long have you felt this way?”

“Always do,” he mumbled, “And I feel pathetic for it. Y/N-chan, is there something wrong with me?”

“No way!” You argued, the passion ever so present in your eyes. “You devote all of yourself to this. You are worthy of all good things. I swear it.”

“I can’t bring myself to feel that though.” There seemed to be a tension building up into his chest and his eyes.

“Your team believes it. All of your fans too.”

He met your eyes again, watching your breathing slow. “What?”

“They believe you deserve the world.” you affirmed, your mouth set into a straight line of seriousness. “And I think you do too.”

Underneath the dimmed lights of the gym, your hand a gentle anchor atop his own, Oikawa finally broke down.

Perhaps happiness was the feeling of being loved.

He realized that as long as you were beside him, that feeling would never fade.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

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[doomdays]

jay's reaction makes henry laugh more, and he's relieved that they've taken no real offense to it. ❝  yeah, you gotta survive out here somehow. besides, you started it, ❞ he teases. that jersey is important to sam. it had been transformed into many different things over the years: a blanket, a pillow, a shirt that was probably four sams long that he'd insist on trying to wear anyway. henry's mother always insisted that they only keep what they need, but having a kid that young, henry has understood how important sentimental value can still be in this world, especially when it provides the kid such comfort --- meeting jay is just an extra bonus.

henry scoffs, waving a hand away at him, pretending to be offended. his hand moves to his own head, tapping it once before a smirk forms on his features. ❝  can't mess with my perfectly good looks, my friend. why fix something that ain't broken, right? ❞ he teases. the confidence isn't actually all that genuine --- mostly, he doesn't care what he looks like, good or bad or anything in between. sometimes he thinks about it, how the world changing well before he turned into a teenager might've helped him care less about such trivial things. it is a nice ego boost whenever someone tells him he looks good, regardless.

henry's eyes continue to look around the store as he nods back to jay's words. ❝ yeah. he is. ❞ he takes pride in that himself, because he likes knowing that other people can see that, too. ❝  smartest kid i've ever met. yeah, i know i'm biased, i don't give a fuck, though, ❞ he laughs, shrugging his shoulders. ❝  i'm proud of him. just hoping i can keep up, most days. ❞ and yeah, he's overprotective, maybe a little overbearing sometimes, too. but as smart as he is, he is still really young --- at an age henry hardly even remembers being now, so it's important to him that he can take care of him.

his hand swipes over the shelves, ignoring the dirt and dust that accumulates, his eyes peering back into the dark, hidden corners. he imagines whoever cleared out more of the drawing utensils took them for something more useful, but it's just as useful to him that sam find comfort in something. and he likes drawing, so henry will do whatever he can to make sure he never loses that ability. with a laugh, he glances back over to jay. ❝  just checkin' in. he's always bragging about how excited you are to get 'em. ❞ sam's face is always so full of light whenever he gives a drawing to anyone, and while henry appreciates those who are simply just entertaining him, there's a part of him who just wants to know that it is genuine--- and it seems to be from jay. ❝  --- thanks. for you know, making him feel good. for hanging out with him. he's spent so long with just me i'm sure he's been glad to have another friend around. ❞

their hand splays against their heart in mock agony, all too eager to play along — anything to keep henry grinning. he carries too much, worries too often, runs himself ragged — but jay supposes it's to be expected, when your life is not only your life, when you bear such a responsibility. so he wants to help where he can: an extra supply run, doubling up on night watches — making henry smile.

“using my own logic against me like that? you play dirty, burrell.” it's vaguely embarrassing to think about now, how excited jay had been to see sam with his kit — they've seen a handful in various stores over the years, left to rot, never quite deemed as useful, but sam's is the first they've seen in someone's possession beyond the one they've carried since the beginning. the lettering's just as faded, colors washed out by age — but the ego boost wasn't lessened by the shirt's condition.

the purple jersey tucked safely into the bottom of their pack is the favorite of their career — but sam's green-blue brings a rush of nostalgia every time jay sees it. it'd been the replacement to canary yellow, when they'd built up enough goodwill to have a voice — when he'd become primary keeper for weston-rhodes. all of this history stays internalized, however, jay not wishing to bore henry with the details — it's pointless knowledge, trivial memories, effectively useless for the new world.

but it matters to jay to remember — even if it's only themself that they recite it to.

“yeah, long enough,” they repeat with a snort, eyes rolling affectionately. henry's far too young to remember, jay thinks — and the thought hits like a bullet, square in the heart; when did they get so old? — but it's nice to joke like this with him. to talk, even peripherally, about something that'd been so important to jay, once.

“hey, i'm serious,” jay replies, and the certainty in his voice is clear. “you want to give it a try, i got extra — and some clippers, if you want to shave it off afterward.” their smile turns crooked, eyes creasing as a laugh shakes free, a loud, mirthful sound.

packing the dye away signifies an end to the conversation, though, jay glancing around for anything that's genuinely needed — then looking towards henry with arched brows, head tilting in consideration. “it's like you said. you were just trying to be careful. i get that. and sam probably does too. he's a smart kid, you know?” they have no experience as a parent, though, so he doesn't feel qualified to say more — all jay really can do is offer assurance, a helping hand — and room in his bag for supplies.

and he's determined to discover something for sam; his beam cuts through the murky dark, alighting on fallen shelves that could potentially have something buried beneath. he's moving closer to one when the question's asked, and jay can't keep himself from laughing, head shaking. “what, 'cause i was famous once, you think i'm egotistical?” his eyes squint in feigned annoyance, an expression he can't maintain for long before he's grinning again. “no. i mean, i like 'em, obviously, because who doesn't like when a kid hands you drawings? but — i just wanna make sure he's got shit. markers, books, toys... whatever he needs.” @doomdays

[titanslayer]

super exclusive message from libby vicioushope:

Hello Natasha McTitanSlayer. have i told u recently how much i love you???? how much i absolutely ADORE you actually? and that one day i will be marching my way to ireland through the atlantic ocean and proposing to you in person. this summer it'll have been a year since we met and this past year has been made so much better with you in it (seriously, just thinking about all you've done for me and the laughs we've had and everything is making me tear up a little). your kindness and generosity are so inspiring and every day i strive to be a little more like nat and just try to exude your warmth and open energy. i think ur the type of person who would absolutely give the best hugs and one day i WILL confirm my hypothesis. you're so funny and charming, literally every time we talk i'm laughing at every other word out of your mouth and the way that u put up with my antics is honestly a level of patience i've never seen in a human being before. u are truly one of the best people i've met on this site and not a day goes by where I'm not thankful for your existence and friendship!!!!!!!!!

almost a year????? almost a whole YEAR of nibby (natlibby?!) ?!!?!? we have been trundling along together making stupid jokes and bullying each other w/ these weird little fictional dudes who r emotionall stunted together.......for almost 12 months??? i am going to start sobbing. did u know that from day 1 u have been one of the smartest, funniest, most DEDICATEDDDD writers ive ever come across on tumblr? did u know that from th very first Known Harold Sighting i have been UTTERLY SURE that u were gna be one of the coolest ppl around, and that i was RIGHT bc u are!! genuinely!!! almost a whole ass year..................libby we gotta throw a party..........nibbyversary..............coming to a rat convention near YOU

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter two - “bucky”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.4k

summary: after arriving in wakanda, (Y/N) figures out who and what she’s there for (with the help of our fav young genius)

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: not my photo

"Christ, you're astonishingly intelligent. How could you possibly need my help?" (Y/N) asked. "I'm kind of a joke compared to your big brain."

As the young Wakandan princess showed (Y/N) around her extremely impressive laboratory, she thought back to her conversation with Sharon.

***

"I'm needed? In Wakanda?" she said, dumbfounded. "What am I gonna do? Help them hunt for food?"

"Well, that's the thing," Sharon began. "Wakanda isn't what you think it is. The third world country we all thought we knew is just a facade to protect the true nature of Wakanda."

(Y/N) stared, not following. Sharon continued.

"It's actually a highly advanced, technologically progressive metropolis. They have some of the smartest people and most exceptional innovations in the world. It was all a cover up."

She nodded, finally understanding, "Well, I can't say that I blame them for hiding from the world. I can only imagine what would happen, especially from the hands of America."

Sharon chuckled. "Steve settled things with T'Challa, the former prince, and the royal family are allowing him and Barnes to take refuge there until further notice. Evidently, they have the tech and the minds to undo whatever damage Hydra did to Barnes."

***

"Well, I could do this by myself, but my focus is predominantly on electromagnetism, quantum mechanics, and high-energy particle physics," the young princess explained, gesturing to various pieces of state-of-the-art tech around her lab. "I'm not really an expert in social sciences just yet; that would be you. I was told you were exceptional. Oh, and Captain Rogers needed someone he could trust on short notice. So, here you are, on account of a Sharon Carter, right?"

"Absolutely correct... your highness?" (Y/N) replied, though it was more of a question than anything else.

The princess laughed a genuine laugh, "Oh, no need for formalities! We're colleagues now and we're going to be working collaboratively. Please, call me Shuri."

"Got it," she nodded, smiling and slightly embarrassed. "...so, not to sound like more of an idiot than I probably already seem, but what exactly is this project we're working on? No one really thought it would be a good idea to tell me before I took the plane ride to another continent- which is lovely by the way."

"Well," Shuri started, gesturing her to follow along as they walked through the rest of the lab, "you know that man who allegedly bombed the UN conference in Vienna, consequently killing my father and forcing my brother to assume his place as king?"

(Y/N) gulped. "Yes."

"Yeah, he's here. He's the project. But don't worry! He didn't actually set off the bomb; he was framed."

Oh. Okay. What was she supposed to say to that? (Y/N) couldn't figure out an answer so she continued to nod and try not to look too idiotic.

"As you already know, he has suffered greatly. He's not in control of his own mind. Our job is to dismantle whatever programming Hydra drilled into his poor brain through years of abuse and torture."

(Y/N) remembered the horrible things she read in his file. The trauma, the cruelty, the destruction of humanity. Suddenly, she was no longer at a loss of words... or thoughts. She was going to help an innocent man. Well, the truly innocent man who was locked inside Hydra's homemade killer.

What was done to him was a monstrosity; it was, up to date, the worst thing she had ever seen done to a human being. And, if she can do anything to help take away or relieve some of that pain, she was happy to play her part. A good way to do that was probably to zone back in to what Shuri was saying.

"...and there's two main components to this. Number one is his physical pain. Meaning the biochemicals and neurons in his brain in addition to his arm and the nerve endings and anything else of his that they broke: the stuff I will take care of. Number two is his mental pain. Meaning his psyche, trauma, behavior, emotions, and all that other fun psychology stuff that you will take care of."

"So, I'm basically operating as a therapist?"

"Basically. Among other things."

(Y/N) stared at the floor in front of her, letting it all sink in. She was going to therapize the Winter Soldier. Whatever that was going to entail was a mystery to her. He was nothing she'd ever heard of. Of course she was extraordinary at her job, but this was new territory for her.

Unaware of what else to say, (Y/N) blurted out, "So... you said he's here..."

"Yes. Follow me, you can come meet him."

Maybe that wasn't the best thing to blurt. He is innocent, but that doesn't stop him from scaring her a bit... even though she's never actually met him in the person.

She followed behind as Shuri led her out of the lab and through a multitude of different rooms and hallways. She was nervous, indeed. She was in a place she'd never been with people she'd never met about to see a person with a caliber she'd of never imagined.

(Y/N) wondered what he'd be like. Would she be meeting who he was before Hydra sunk their claws into him? Or would she be meeting some hybrid of the man he used to be and the pain he's been forced to endure? She wasn't sure what to expect. But she didn't have time to imagine another scenario when Shuri opened a door and they were greeted by a freezing cold breeze.

"Don't mind the cold. It's supposed to be like that," Shuri said as she held the door open and walked inside.

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around her midsection before her mouth dropped. In the middle of the room stood a giant glass chamber holding no other than James Barnes inside. It looked so strange to her, surreal even. He was frozen? Suspended animation. She didn't think humans were supposed to look like that. He almost looked dead. The slightest shiver ran down her spine.

"He's in a state of cryogenic sleep," Shuri explained. "Completely alive, but the chamber reduces his metabolism to its lowest possible level, allowing his body to be preserved for long periods of time."

"That's... slightly horrifying. I've heard of cryogenics, but I've never seen it first hand. How does it even work?" (Y/N) inquired as she ran her hand lightly across the glass.

It's so cold. She couldn't imagine being in there.

"In cryogenic sleep, an antifreeze agent is added, replacing the water in his cells. Then, the tissue is cooled to -220 degrees Fahrenheit, but instead of crystallizing into ice, the chemicals clump together and become solid. They're actually molecularly similar to glass. This new glass form prevents the cells from bursting and, theoretically, this could hold him in stasis forever."*

"Wow," she mused, still awestruck, staring at the chamber.

"Something wrong?"

"No, I'm good," (Y/N) chuckled, "it's just that advanced science is just shocking sometimes. And when you said I was going to meet him, I didn't think you meant like this."

Shuri smiled. "Oh, I didn't."

And with that, all it took was the push of a button and the chamber came out of dormancy. It was whirring and hissing, and (Y/N) could feel the temperature slowly start to rise. She glanced up and witnessed what looked like a miracle as color began to bloom onto his previously blanched features. He too was coming out of dormancy; he was coming alive.

(Y/N) almost startled when his eyes opened, but remained completely still when the chamber door opened. James blinked a couple times, taking in his surroundings. He looked anxious; she could understand why. She tried not to meet his eyes.

I'll let Shuri take the lead on this one, she thought.

As if on queue, Shuri gave him a polite smile and started to undo his restraints.

"Hello Sergeant Barnes. Welcome back! My name is Shuri, T'Challa's younger and much smarter sister. This," she gestured to (Y/N), "is Dr. (Y/L/N). Together, we'll be conducting your treatment plan."

He stepped out of the chamber, shaking Shuri's hand. He had almost a foot over her but towered over both of them regardless. Then, he turned to (Y/N). She wasn't sure what to think.

"It's nice to meet you, Sergeant Barnes," she said with a curt smile, as she shook his hand. Cold. She pretended not to notice.

He looked down at her and for a moment she thought he looked docile. Benevolent and soft.

His eyes are very blue.

"Please," he said, a kindhearted gentleness coating his voice, "call me Bucky."

- - -

* = info on cryogenics from inverse.com