#marvel star wars frustrate me hell too much :(

[the-force-awakens]

Yeah, that's a pretty good analysis. I don't see Poe included hardly at all, in fandom or in canon to a degree, and I think it's safe to say he has one of the least number of fans who are specifically fans of him. Like I don't see many blogs/accounts that are specifically Poe centric.

Oh man, I actually got up to answer this on my computer rather than my phone, so we'll see how into it I'll get into this ask, but yes! It's vastly unfortunate that he often gets excluded or overlooked when he's the entire catalyst for the sequel trilogy. He is, archetypically and narratively within the story, the Leia of our generation: if it was not for Poe and BB-8 (who is really like an extension of Poe), then Finn wouldn't have been able to escape the Finalizer, and Rey would have never left Jakku.

While yes, it's true that Poe wasn't initially meant to survive The Force Awakens (and other nine word horror stories for me), Poe is still one part of the primary trio of the trilogy and has been since 2015. He is not only Leia's first protégé, but the eventual leader of the Resistance, and according to the Rise of Skywalker novel, the heir to the legacy of House Organa (cue me loudly proclaiming him a Disney Prince). Yet, somehow, at the same time......no one seems to ever want to include him as part of the saga, and an important one as that?

(@dameronalone points out ever so often how much they love the shot where everyone leaves Exegol for this reason, because we see Poe flying alongside the Falcon, which really hammers in that Poe is an important player in the history of the saga).

More thoughts below the cut, because I have more and this is already lengthy.

The worst thing is that Poe was extremely popular. Lucasfilm and Marvel pretty much immediately greenlit a comic series for him, and while that was definitely to flesh his story out, if my memory serves, it was so popular that I believe the first printing sold out? And it was originally only meant to last 25 issues (which personally I think it should have stayed at, because I don't super vibe with 26-onward and it feels off and tonally disconnected to the rest of the series and also the ending of TLJ, and the characterization for Poe also feels off, but that's!! a different rant!!!) but the title was so popular that Marvel decided to extend it for two more storylines!

The issue was the fandom backlash to TLJ.

You don't have to look too far into my blog to know that I adore Poe in TLJ, and that I like his arc in the movie, and that I avidly defend him for it, but the internet in 2017-2019 was an entirely different universe from that. You could not go anywhere - Tumblr, Twitter, Youtube, fucking hell, even most major media news outlets and clickbait websites - without hearing about how much everyone hated Poe Dameron.

Why? Because they walked away from his arc deciding that he was sexist and the movie's perfect example of toxic masculinity (although, lmfao, the First Order clowns are right there). It went further than that, with headlines about how everyone hated him, how he was personally responsible for everything that happens in the Resistance in the film, and how he was the worst character in Star Wars since Jar Jar Binks (because clearly the Star Wars fandom never learns from its previous toxicity, right?). It was to the point that, to my immense horror and frustration, even as far as into promoting TROS, a reporter described Poe as a "secret villain" in TLJ to Oscar (and man do I hope that man knows Poe is loved, actually).

Fandom wasn't much different. Fanon Poe prior to TLJ was....a lot different. In some ways, a lot of fics hit the nail on the head on who Poe was, but there was a definite unifying idea of who Poe was: a pure cinnamon roll who never, ever swore, and always listened to Leia and never argued with her - let alone disobeyed her orders or put a toe out of line (this is even illustrated in canon, with the first Poe Dameron annual, where the author has Poe declare that Leia is "always right" and instantly caving in an argument).

And TLJ Poe is about....as far removed from that vision of Poe as you can possibly get - although nothing about him in TLJ is ooc. We see the bare bones of it in The Force Awakens, and Before the Awakening and the comics further flesh out Poe in a way that perfectly leads into the Last Jedi. But the cinnamon roll fanon was made so common and leaked so far into fandom consciousness, that there was this strange concept that Poe was never, ever angry even in expanded material, which...he does. He gets pissed off plenty of times in the comics, and with the Defense Fleet while arguing with Deso.

So, canon Poe did the unthinkable and, y'know, didn't fall in line with how fanon saw him, which resulted in a huge backlash over the fact that he was a character with agency and a personality (that is NOT sexist thank you), which resulted in us getting books like Resistance Reborn, by authors who can't stand him or describe him as anything besides "supremely arrogant" and spends three hundred pages emotionally torturing him, claiming he needs to die, physically assaulting him, and you know...having the person who attacked him and the other person who claimed he needed to die flirt with him, because it also spends an ungodly amount of time sexualizing him to an uncomfortable degree, because the one thing fanon could agree on outside of the fact that he had been "ruined" or that he was a jackass or a "fuckboi" (yeah that went around too), was that Oscar Isaac is really goddamned fine in the Last Jedi (he is, I'll give them that, there's something about tlj!Poe, scientists remain baffled).

And on top of all of that, a particular fraction of the fandom developed an interesting habit of taking new pieces of canon and spreading them around online out of context, claiming that the writers were now intentionally writing him as sexist and as a jackass, and ruining his character further. I don't know for certain if this had any effect overall on the fandom's perception of him, but I know that it did almost break my spin in him for a while because I thought people were being very genuine, and it wasn't until 2020 that I got curious and started doing my own research into the panels/paragraphs being shared online, and sure enough, discovered that the angle had been falsified to paint Poe into a worse light (which, if anyone is curious, is why I did my deep dive into everything that he was in, because I didn't want to be fooled again. You can't trick me if I know everything lmfao).

So essentially, his popularity nosedived after the Last Jedi. It seemed to bump up a little bit, or at least there definitely seemed to be more people interested in him/writing for him in 2020 coming off the lockdown, but obviously that has very much dwindled. But I've definitely not seen any blogs dedicated to Poe as a character since 2017, and you don't ordinarily see him in miscellaneous Star Wars gifsets that go around either, let alone solo Poe gifsets (I know because I lose my shit anytime there's a new one that's not by me), and Poe creations that have nothing to do with a ship is.........even less likely to be found.

I definitely think canon is at least trying to keep him in our minds though. He was the second character to lead one of the Lego Specials, and that Rey short story ("Through the Turbulence") was focused on her friendship with him. Whether or not that's because of the possibility of Oscar returning for the Rey movie (which feels fairly tangible, considering he's been kind of shady about it after mentioning he'd come back for a good story, and doing that Halcyon video), or if it's just because of Lucasfilm maybe warming up to him as a character again*, I don't know, but I hope it means we get good-faith content for him again soon.

*Because I'm tired of the story group constantly being a little bitch about him, and the same goes for the Topps Trading Card App. Maybe people wouldn't think he was a villain if you stopped describing him like a terrible person? Just a thought.

[chappell-roans]

did u see this whole millie bobby brown disclosure? Her saying that she doesn’t watch movies because she thinks it’s too long and she can’t just sit and watch. and this is sadly typical behavior from nepo babies and those kids that were essentially made to be actors by their parents. they don’t feel real love for the craft but get so many opportunities than other actors that study cinema and are very knowledgeable barely get.

but i think only actors that love cinema are able to transcend and work for a long time. a lot of people were calling Austin Butler pretentious but I find his knowledge of cinema admirable. chalamet also got called pretentious once for referencing a lot of movies but I find that normal because studying cinema as an actor should be your job? it’s part of the preparation? A look at the career both of them have… it’s easy to know when an actors loves the craft by how they speak, Florence’s hot wings interview was very insightful and you can tell she pays attention to every element of filmmaking.

For instance, I remember watching an interview w Tom Holland and I find him a charming guy but I really dislike how he once joked and made fun of a very valid question about studying process for a role - it doesn’t seem that he takes the craft that seriously and I find the instances of where he didn’t know who certain directors were and when he said Scorsese couldn’t direct a Marvel film so crazy considering how he has been the pioneer of so many “blockbuster” in its time, and his lack of cinema knowledge shows in the quality of his choices for roles.

I feel a lot of actors don’t realize that by saying things like they they get a lot of doors slammed in their face.

I'm late replying again sorry but all of this, yes. I tried not thinking about it too much but it definitely irks me. And I think there are a loooot of people of tbh all ages that feel this way. But it does particularly suck for someone making movies to feel this way? (I did see some conversation on twitter between people who actually work on film sets and they said this is common, particularly among like crew members like gaffers, lighting, etc etc.)

YES. This is why when "pretentious" discourse goes around because like Jacob Elordi talks about Marlon Brando (not his method acting, but just his acting) or old movies, people make fun of him and say he's just a try-hard hipster. But maybe... he loves acting and wants to improve his craft? Like, I agree. It's something that should come from a place of love and wanting to get better. We can't all be Hugh Grant and annoyed at the world all the time lmao. And like you said, same with Austin, Timothee, hell, remember the Jeremy Strong "dramaturgical" discourse that people freaked out about for a week because he used... a common theater word? Lmfao.

It's like, when letterboxd does their asking an actor or director their four favorites, there's always people in the comments saying they don't believe that an old French movie or hell even a 70s movie (that isn't The Godfather or Star Wars, bc apparently Jaws is pretentious?? LMAO), could be someone's fav and they're lying to look good. But if someone lists a bunch of animated Disney children's movies, La La Land, and Scott Pilgrim then they must be telling the truth. Maybe they both are? But god it's so frustrating to think that having taste beyond the basics is pretentious. Like, people call CHRISTOPHER NOLAN MOVIES PRETENTIOUS. Just because something is mildly to extremely clever or smart doesn't mean it's pretentious :)

Rant over lmao.

I need to watch Florence on Hot Ones still but I loved seeing bits of her on the press tour for Oppenheimer and I saw a clip of her and Zendaya talking about the craft of cinematography (linked) and how like Flo told her story about the camera breaking on Oppenheimer, and Z talked about like how she loves sitting in the tent w the Dune cinematographer and learning how everything works. Like, they love filmmaking!!! And I love that! This is how actors become better, and can produce, and even direct successfully. (Z I think definitely will. She'd had plans to direct at least one Euphoria ep but of course shitshow that it is, it hasn't happened yet.)

But yeah agreed about Tom Holland it's all soooo. Idk. You can very much tell when someone really loved movies and the process of how they are made, or not. And that's the truth whether someone's favorite movie is Godzilla v. Kong or Breathless. But yes!!! I truly don't understand why they say things like that, like... unless you want a door closed, don't close it for no reason! Lmao. Ayo Edebiri has talked about this recently.

I really don't get that w Scorsese of all people too like... all his movies are fucking popcorn movies. It's all cinema but who the hell is thinking Goodfellas is boring? Or The Aviator? Hell, I just watched Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore. It has a batshit opening and is suuuch a fast-paced movie for what it is like, about a woman coming to terms w loss and making it on her own w her annoying kid (affectionate) and domestic violence I just ?? I don't get it myself! And pretending Scorsese actually has a war against Marvel is stupid as fuck. I wish he did! Someone should.

[tarabyte3]

That is so valid of you. ❤️ Because dear fucking god 🥵

(This got way too long for a comment response, so I decided to do a whole post response to share my own Andy journey for everyone.)

I've always had a *bit* of a crush on him after watching the interviews and "making of" in the special features of the Extended Editions of the LotR because he was so funny and physical. In that "Oh, Andy Serkis is such a great actor! Very talented. Seems like a cool dude" way. (Yes. I am a fucking idiot.)

So any time I saw he was in a movie afterwards, I would go, "Oh, Andy Serkis is in/worked on this?? Definitely watching that. Also watching that interview I see on twitter/Facebook/YouTube for sure. Just because he's so brilliant and I like hearing him talk about movies. Yeah..." Which is why I saw King Kong, Adventures of Tintin, and Rise of the Planet of the Apes in theaters 😅 Or why I immediately watched The Ritual on Netflix because he was an executive producer (incredible movie btw), and why I was so hopeful for Snoke as a big bad in Star Wars (🙄). Or why I've seen some of his random other movies before. (Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll hit the non-performance capture Andy itch and my love of biopics about messy, disaster musicians lol)

But I am also a grey asexual/Demi romantic, so I don't always realize what "oh, I think that person is interesting" means. Little physical crushes, sure. But the BIG crushes where it's not just physical attraction, but an admiration/affection for a person? Then I am a dumbass. Gillian Anderson was the same way for me, and she is my other big celebrity love. Adored her since the late 90s, didn't realize why until like 2016 ("I just love Scully, she was a big influence on me growing up" 🙄🙄 I had like a dozen Gillian posters, y'all 🤦🏻‍♀️). With my own husband I didn't catch on as to why I looked forward to talking to him more than I did my other friends.

It also meant I didn't even realize I was bisexual until I was like 30! Aka I should ask myself more often: "hey dumbass, why's that do you think?" Because being on the ace spectrum can be really frustrating and confusing. 😭

I remember being intrigued by Andy during Age of Ultron and Black Panther like "oh 👀" but I didn't think much of it. (Again, my brain and libido need to warm up like an old CRT monitor or I need to be slapped in the face with it like hitting a TV to get an antenna signal to clear up.) I also didn't see The Batman right away, but only because I've been burned out on superhero movies. (I'm a few years behind on Marvel content except Hawkeye, who is my favorite comic book superhero so I made an exception for the semi adaptation of Matt Fraction's Clint and Kate).

It wasn't until Kino pushed Melshi against the wall in episode 8 of Andor that I had the glass shattering moment of "AW FUCK. WAIT I THINK HE'S HOT? I HAVE HAD A CRUSH ON ANDY SERKIS FOR HOW LONG?! HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS."

...this probably explains a lot about "I Want You to Show Me Weak" for some of you, actually lmfao.

But once that veil was lifted from my eyes, I had like, 20 years of screaming to do. I screamed a lot at my IRL friends, my online friends, and my poor husband. Then I wrote fanfiction. And when that wasn't enough, I dragged my ass here to step out from lurking after hiding in the Tumblr shadows for over a decade to scream into the void.

So here we are! Now I have some awesome new friends and mutuals I can scream with and I appreciate the hell out of you all. ❤️ I'm late to the party because I can't read directions, but by god, I got here eventually.

So anyway, here's Wonderwall some gifs. 😉

This was the one that did me in (not quite the first time I watched it, but the seeds were definitely planted). I've always loved Andy because of his involvement and with "The Lord of the Rings" films (as I love everyone involved with them), so there was already a great deal of affection built in.

Then two years ago I decided to do a rewatch of the entire Marvel catalogue (since we were in yet another COVID lockdown) and when I got to "Black Panther" this time I instantly went "Oh. OH FUCK." Even just his fucking swagger kills me. And since then we've gotten Alfred, and then Kino?? My god, man can a girl have a break??? 🥵 (Spoiler: I don't actually want one)

[cienie-isengardu]

have you ever read darth vader (2020) and knights of the old republic? if so, what do you think of them?

Yes, I had a chance to read both. Knights of the Old Republic (2006-2010) is a pretty good and fun series that I enjoyed overall even though I did read it mainly for ancient Mandalorians (and oh boy, they are my personal weakness). There is an intriguing worldbuilding that nicely connects past events (The Sith War) with current, ongoing war and a bunch of interesting (if not morally ambiguous) characters, like Gryph who never fails to amuse me and his teamwork with Zayne is both hilarious and heartwarming. In all honesty, there are some issues I’m more likely to skip over than others while rereading KotOR but the story in itself is a solid piece with enough drama and humor to keep me entertained. Of course being set in a timeline then barely exploited gave KotOR a big advantage over most star wars stories, because lack of a stiff framework gave a lot of freedom to creators.

In contrast, my feelings about Darth Vader (2020) comics series are mixed to say the least. Partially, because I’m very picky when it comes to Vader and his characterization, partially because the series is still an ongoing thing and so I may change my mind about it again at some point. Like, the first arc, Dark Heart of the Sith in my opinion was pretty good - not perfect because there were things I definitively despite (like the whole deal with Padme sending her people to free Shmi, which doesn’t make much sense in the context of the Prequels and frankly, I’m tired by New Canon tendency of trying make Padme some saint or whatever) and some I wished to not happen at all (the fate of the poor droid, what a shame, Vader always get the most interesting droids to work with). But overall? It was so nice to see prequel characters being acknowledged. I liked how Vader’s troopers didn’t speak basic and the interaction between Vader, the droid and older Sabe was amusing. It is not the first story that dealt with Vader’s past and the effect Padme’s death had on him and most likely not the last, but the comics did a good job of connecting Prequels with the current storyline and so far was one of better Marvel comics about Vader I read. But then we have another arc, Into the Fire and the future part of Bounty Hunter Was and… yeah. Here comes back the typical Disney/Marvel storyline of “hardship” that is just coarse (vulgar) abuse of Vader. And this is where my good feelings about this particular series end. After the last six years of Marvel star wars I’m so, so tired of this repetitive bullshit. It seems like every Darth Vader series/storyline must have at least one scene when the man's body is literally ripped apart and this is not only disrespectful for the iconic character, but most of all boring and uncreative as hell. At this point, I’m more checking what is going on in the current series as a matter of principle rather than for the pure joy of reading about my favorite character. I strongly believe that every source, even the one passionately disliked by me, has something interesting and good to offer, but no matter how hard I try, Marvel/Disney star wars does not work for me the way Legends did. I simply don’t like the new approach to Vader as a character and if not for his sporadic relationship with sergeant Kreel, queen Trios or even doctor Aphra, I feel like I could give up reading Marvel star wars altogether. I still hope the upcoming issues will change my mind but, like Tor Vizsla said, hope is overrated. And… that is exactly how I feel about Darth Vader (2020) right now.

[oneforallheadcannonsandshorts]

Personal Headcannons of the Past Users of One for All

Before reading please understand that the I got bored. Also I have been thinking about making these for a while. So, please enjoy. Also...MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD!

First Holder 

-Loves hugs and cuddles 

-Possibly touched starved 

-Very humble 

-Is always willing to comfort someone

-Sassy when you least expect it 

-As long as one asks permission first he’ll let someone style his hair

-Mega Geek the moment you bring up something about superheroes

-Undoubtedly a Marvel and DC fan

-Also a Star Wars Fan 

-His room was like Izuku’s only it was packed with Star Wars, Marvel, and DC merch. 

-Always went broke buying said merch 

-All For One had to start accompanying him to stores so he wouldn’t blow all his money 

-He is also isn't someone you want to anger. While he lacks in psychical strength that doesn't mean he can’t fight. Or scold someone like a disappointed parent.

-Possibly has PTSD from his time in the vault    

Second Holder

-Bakugo Porotype (fight me)

-Violent boi 

-Is only calm when First is in the room because he doesn’t want First to be upset with him. 

-He and third argue like an old married cuople, much to the amusement of the others. 

-Jealous of Shinomori and All Might because they are the ones who held onto One for All the longest. 

-Down right hates the heroes of today claiming they are weak. 

-Likes to play card games, Daigoro often joins him alongside Third. 

-Thinks Izuku is far too weak, psychically and morally     

Third Holder 

-Respects Izuku’s dreams and all, but doesn’t really recognize Izuku as the Ninth just yet. 

-Always happy to play a game of cards and have a beer

-Talks with Shinomori the most besides Second. 

-Kind of prefers Shinomori because the tall ass man is so calm

-Likes messing around with All Might’s vestige 

-Gets in trouble with Nana on occasion for making snarky comments about All Might 

-Has a goofy side and only Second knows about this  

Hikage/Hakage Shinomori (fourth holder)

-High anxiety levels

-Raised to be a gentleman

-Hardcore respects women

-Socially withdrawn 

-Meditates pretty often

-Relates with Izuku because of his anxiety 

-The unofficial “Greatest Hugger” of the group. Seriously this man gives some great hugs.

-Before becoming a hermit he was told that his hugs make people feel safe and wanted. And so, as long as he is asked he’ll give someone a hug. 

-Now it’s not like he doesn’t mind surprise hugs, but Danger Sense makes him jump out of the way. So if someone wants a hug from him they are going have to ask so Danger Sense doesn’t misinterpret them as a threat.  

-First, Sixth, and Nana are the three that often go to him asking for a hug. And despite his anxiety and being socially withdrawn, he can’t say no to them. Especially First and Nana. He knows the two have been through a lot. 

-And if Izuku asks for a hug, Shinomori will give that boy all the hugs he wants. 

-He speaks with Daigoro regularly. Daigoro is one of the few that makes him smile. 

 -Strangely poetic to a degree

-While he accepts Izuku as the Ninth, that doesn't mean it sits well with him. Hates how someone so young is baring the weight of the future on their shoulders.

-Also hates how mistreated Izuku was by the rest of society.   

Banjo Daigoro (fifth holder)

-Comic relief and he knows it. 

-He owns the fact he is comic relief 

-loves making people smile 

-Huge supporter of Izuku 

-Loves playing cards with Second and Third 

-Forgets to inform Shinomori that he’s trying to hug him or something, so he gets frustrated when Shinomori dodges him. 

-Kind of sees Shinomori as a father/older brother figure 

-Thinks Shinomori is cool as hell and makes sure the man knows it. 

-Always checking on Sixth and talking with him

-the “Funcle” 

-That type of uncle who accidently teaches kids bad words 

-EX:

Daigoro: Fuck! 

Sometime later...

Izuku: Fuck. 

Nana and First: BANJO!

Class One A: BAKUGO!

Bakugo: I didnt teach him that! I swear! 

Daigoro: *getting his ass whooped* I’m sorry!

-Doesn’t think there is anyone in the world good enough for Izuku

-Still mad at Bakugo 

Sixth Holder 

-Thinks Izuku is pretty cool. 

-Loves how Izuku never backs down even when it looks like he might. 

-Secretly enjoys that he is taller than Izuku

-Never sits in a chair right because most of the time his feet never touch the ground. 

-Likes how calm and awkward Shinomori is. 

-Sometimes asks Shinomori about the woods. 

-Makes him happy when Daigoro checks in on him. 

-Feels really bad for dying on Nana 

-Also feels responsible for what happened to her family  

Shimura Nana (Seventh holder)

-Loves the users that came before her

-May or may not be planning the murders of Second and Third 

-Accepted Izuku the moment she realized he was Ninth. 

-Makes fun of Gran Torino for being so short now 

-Wonders if he ever did ask Recovery Girl out on a date 

-Is proud of Yagi for becoming the Symbol of Peace

-Appreciates Izuku for his optimism and quick thinking on the battle field 

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Master List

[honey-dewey]

Soulmate Imagines

Another short not drabbles but not full stories either! I was completely inspired by a post made by @absurdthirst and really really wanted to write the boys in these scenarios! So I completely ignored both of my active WIPS and wrote this instead. Oops? Enjoy these long and indulgent soulmate imagines!

Total Word Count: 5,179

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Din Djarin:

Soul Tattoo AU

“Shit!”

You hummed, turning your head over, vision fuzzy. Din was rushing around the Crest, and you could see red painting his beskar. Was he hurt? You tried to stand, and then it hit you. Oh. You were hurt.

“Din,” you rasped out, blinking as his fuzzy image came into more clarity.

Din looked at you, helmet trained on your face. “Cyar’ika,” he said, taking your cold hands. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got run over by a herd of Banthas,” you said, shifting and wincing. “What happened?”

“Bomb,” Din explained, gesturing to your torso, where you were wearing a thin robe and nothing else. “Hit your side. Patched you up best I could.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “Did it scar?”

Din hesitated. “Some of it will. Nothing on your back though.”

Relief flooded you. You had no idea why you were so worried about your soul tattoo, but you were. The beautiful star map to Aq Ventina spanned your entire back, from shoulders to tailbone, the sides creeping over your waist. You’d done research about Aq Ventina years ago, when the curiosity had finally peaked. You’d read up on the history and knew that it no longer existed, decimated by a droid attack decades before you’d even known it existed.

“It’s a beautiful tattoo,” Din said softly, out of nowhere.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at his helmet. “It’s my soul tattoo.”

Din nodded. “I figured.”

And that was the last it was spoken of for almost five months. The next time it was relevant was during a two day long bounty hunt, when Din left to shower and you sat in your shared inn room, cooing at Grogu.

The shower water turned off, and you heard Din drying off. Then he called your name.

“Yeah?”

“Come here.”

Worried, you stood and headed to the bathroom. “Din?”

“Come here.” His voice bordered on urgent, and you immediately shoved the door open.

You were met with Din, completely shirtless yet still wearing the helmet, in the bathroom, no urgent problem in sight. However, instead of being mad, you were focused entirely on the tattoo that spread across Din’s back.

It was identical to yours.

“Din?” Your voice was tiny, so apprehensive.

He sighed, looking at you and taking your hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier,” he said. “But Aq Ventina was my home, so you have to understand that it was odd and a bit painful seeing the star map on your back.”

You nodded. “We’re soulmates,” you breathed. “I didn’t even know you had a soul tattoo.”

Din chuckled. “It’s not like I expose much skin,” he reasoned.

That drew a laugh out of you. “Yeah. But still.” Your fingers danced over the exposed edge of the star map that crept over Din’s side. “Soulmates.”

Din nodded, resting his forehead against your head. “Soulmates,” he agreed. “But only if you’ll have me.”

You smiled. “As if I could ever say no.”

Marcus Moreno:

Color Soulmate AU

To say you were stressed was an understatement. A huge project for Heroics was cradled in your arms, all sorts of papers and binders and information you were carrying to the filing room to be sorted. The stack was tall, which was probably why you didn’t see your boss until you ran directly into him.

“Fuck!” You shouted as you fell on your back, folders going everywhere. Marcus Moreno, your boss, was toppled next to you, also swearing.

“I am so sorry!” You said hurriedly, scrambling to gather the papers, eyes focused on your task. “I really should’ve looked where I was going and-“ you looked up, shock killing your words.

Marcus’s eyes were brown. Very very brown.

You gasped, your task entirely forgotten. “Oh.”

Marcus was staring at you with just as much shock as you were staring at him with. “Oh,” he echoed.

Your fragile moment was shattered by the click of heels and another employee coming over to check on you, her voice frantic.

“We’re fine,” Marcus reassured, standing and dusting himself off. Without saying anything else, he walked quickly away.

Once all the files were secure, you headed back to your desk and pulled out a small box of crayons. You’d never seen color, not ever, so this would be interesting. At least it would be if your hands would stop shaking.

One of your coworkers, Matt, came up to you as you used a teal crayon, marveling at the color. “Oh? You met your soulmate?”

You nodded, looking up and noticing the vibrant purple color to Matt’s tie. “Yeah. Bumped into him in the hall. Literally.”

Matt grinned. “Who is it?”

You cringed, the embarrassment setting in. “Mr. Moreno.”

“Mr. Moreno?” Matt practically yelled. “He’s our boss!”

“Yeah, I know!” You retaliated, checking your clock and scrambling up. “Fuck! I gotta go, that huge meeting is in ten.”

Matt smiled. “Good luck!”

Despite Matt’s wishes, you were fairly certain the presentation was a disaster. Marcus was missing, which was odd, and you ended up tripping over your words and getting a huge migraine halfway through the presentation. After sheepishly explaining the scenario, you were told to go home and adjust, you could redo the presentation tomorrow.

Of course, tomorrow was just as bad. Marcus was actually present, wearing a yellow tie that kept distracting you and forcing your words out in a jumble.

After the train wreck of a presentation, you decided this was a situation that called for a large hot chocolate. Getting one and settling in the cafeteria, you sighed, swirling your drink with a spoon. You were a certifiable mess.

The creaking of the chair brought your attention back to planet earth, and you looked up, nearly choking on your spit. “Mr. Moreno!”

“Please, I think we should be on a first name basis,” Marcus said. “So.”

“So.”

Marcus tapped the table. “I’m sorry I ran off yesterday. I just, well, I haven’t seen color since my- Since Clara died.”

You nodded. “I understand if you don’t want this,” you murmured, looking back down at your drink. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Marcus asked. “No! I’m, well, a little excited.”

That shocked you. “Excited?”

“Yeah.” Marcus nodded. “Excited. Missy’s over the moon, of course.”

You grinned. “Thanks. Sorry I’m so nervous. I’ve never seen any of this before.”

“Really?” Marcus said. “Oh I definitely know what we’re doing first.”

“What?”

Marcus smiled, taking your hands. “You’re going to love sunsets.”

Max Phillips:

Black Mark Soulmate AU 

“Oh no.”

You stared at your boss with nothing short of mild fear. Max fucking Phillips. There was no goddamn way. You’d known him very briefly in college, but this, this was unexpected.

He smiled at the employees, shaking hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

As if his right palm wasn’t the color of fresh stained ink.

He walked up to you, holding out his ink stained hand. You were hesitant to accept. After all, your right hand was equally black. But handshakes were common, very common among soulmate meets. Max Phillips was not your soulmate.

You were able to tell yourself that until the moment your hands touched, the blackness turning into a beautiful swirl of bright colors.

Max’s eyes widened as he looked at you. “Your hand.”

“Yours too,” you said, letting go of Max’s hand and letting him examine the watercolor of reds and purples that spread across his skin.

Max took a nervous breath. “No. Something must be wrong.”

You were shocked. “Max. Is it really that bad?”

“You don’t understand!” Max snapped, scaring you a tiny bit. He leaned closer, so you could see the devilish gleam in his eyes. “I have no soul.”

Your blood chilled as you saw the overly sharp teeth and the hint of red behind the deep brown in Max’s eyes. “Max.”

But he was gone, disappeared from right in front of you. Blinking a few times, you turned to your computer, determined to uncover the truth about your mysterious boss and the still tingling rainbow of colors on your palm.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

Countdown Soulmate AU

The countdown timer was surprisingly unnerving.

Actually, was it really that surprising? It was counting down to the most important day pretty much ever. Yours had always had years and years, much longer than any of your friends, but you didn’t mind. That was just more time to prepare.

Of course, when you woke up one day to find that the timer that had read seven months suddenly read twelve hours, you freaked the hell out. Taking deep breaths, you calmed yourself and got dressed, texting your best friend and asking him when he wanted you over for movie night. He responded with eight, and promised that you’d love his friends.

With one last deep breath and a glance around your apartment, you left for the day.

And ended up with a popped tire on the side of the road ten minutes before eight.

Screaming your frustration into the night darkened woods and frightening some poor birds, you sighed and called roadside service. An hour, at least, before they could get to you.

Your next call went to Benny, who you apologized to and told him you’d make it up to him.

Your final call was to no one. You simply sat back in your car and waited for roadside service while you tapped away at some mind numbing game you’d downloaded on a whim.

Headlights were visible in the distance not even ten minutes later, which shocked you and then worried you. Who the hell was out on this road this late at night? Were you about to be murdered? Who would find your body? Would Benny still hold true to his promise and wear a lime green tutu to your funeral?

The car stopped when it saw you, and your anxiety skyrocketed. You quickly texted Benny one last time and locked your car.

“Hey!” A few sharp knocks and a face in the window. “Do you need help?”

You were trembling, trying to keep a brave face. “Tire popped.”

“Oh.” The voice sounded genuinely worried. “That sucks. Where are you headed?”

“A friend’s house.”

“Did you call roadside?”

“An hour.”

“Oof. Hungry?”

“What?” You looked over, seeing the dimly lit silhouette of a man holding up what was probably a granola bar. “Yeah actually, I am.”

The man’s cheeks lit up, and you assumed he was smiling. “Well you’re gonna have to open up if you want it.”

You hesitantly cracked the door and watched the man step back. The car lights illuminated him fully, revealing a very attractive man holding a slightly squished granola bar.

Turning in the seat so that your legs were hanging out the car, you took the offered food, smiling as you ate. “Lord this is good! Thank you!”

The man shrugged. “No problem. I’m Frankie.”

You mumbled your name around the granola bar, and then froze as your wrist burned warm and then cold, a clattering alerting you to the fact that your timer had fallen off.

And from the look on Frankie’s face, so had his.

He looked back up at you, seemingly nervous. “So can I get in the car now? I promise I’m not a creep.”

You nodded, still slightly shocked as Frankie got into your car, sitting in the passenger seat. It was silent for a minute before you spoke. “So. Soulmates.”

“Soulmates,” Frankie agreed. “I’m glad I shared that granola bar with you.”

Your phone pinged, and you swore softly, answering Benny’s text and then rereading it. “Do you, by any chance, know a Benny Miller?”

“Yeah,” Frankie said. “I was headed to his place when I saw you.”

“Me too.” You showed him the text, which read ‘Dude! Be careful! My buddy Frankie’s coming along, so if you get attacked, he’ll totally protect you. Also, totally not wearing that tutu because you’re not dying first.’

Frankie smiled. “You’re in on the tutu thing too?”

You laughed. “Oh god! Not you too!”

“Yeah!” Frankie said, laughing along with you. “Benny totally already has it, y’know.”

You sighed. “Damn. That’s wild.”

The hour until roadside service arrived was filled with stories and bonding. After your car was towed, you got in Frankie’s truck and headed to Benny’s, arm in arm.

“Hey, Frankie found the murder victim!” Benny said happily, opening the door. “Oh shit, dudes I was starting to get worried about you.”

Frankie shook his head. “Actually, it couldn’t have played out better.”

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels:

First Words Soulmate AU

You sighed, taking a breath. Today you were meeting your baby brother’s coworkers at a work party. It wasn’t supposed to be so damn nerve wracking, but your stomach was a ball of anxiety. “Danny, are you sure about this?”

Danny, or as he was better known at work, Tequila, nodded. “Hell yeah, it’ll be fun.”

You tugged your bracelet, trying to cover the words winding across your wrist.

What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?

The Statesman Fourth of July party was apparently a big deal. There were sure as hell a lot of people. You stuck by Danny’s side, smiling at his coworkers and eventually sitting with a woman named Ginger. She was nice, and when Danny wandered off to flirt with someone, she stayed with you, giving you names to attach to faces.

“Oh, and that’s Jack,” she said, pointing to someone talking to Champ. “One of the longest lasting agents we have.”

You eyed Jack. He was handsome, especially with that cowboy hat. He must’ve noticed your staring, because he wandered over and sat down at the table.

“So, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”

You took a breath, gripping the hem of your shorts and trying to think without looking awkward. A thousand responses rushed through your head, and you finally picked one you hoped wasn’t weird. “I dunno cowboy, why do you ask?”

Jack recoiled as if he’d just had ice water poured on his head. Ginger stood, shocked as Jack ran away. “What just happened?”

You were nearly speechless, tears starting to well up. “I think my soulmate just ran away from me.”

After a good long crying session in which you sobbed openly into Danny’s jacket and he vowed to absolutely murder Jack, Ginger gently explained Jack’s past with his previous soulmate. Which sent you into another round of crying and made Danny even more pissed.

He ended up taking you home early to watch shitty movies and eat tons of ice cream, comforting you as you numbly ate half a pint of Ben and Jerry’s on the couch.

When he left for work the next day, you made him swear not to hurt Jack.

You got a call from Ginger two hours later telling you to come pick Danny up.

Marching into Statesman again, you found Ginger at the entrance, lips pressed tight. She led you to the infirmary, where Danny was proudly sporting a black eye and a split lip. Jack was laying in a bed next to him, pressing ice to his cheek.

“Control your fucking brother!” He yelled as soon as he saw you, sitting up in the bed. “He nearly killed me!”

“Oh shut the fuck up!” You snapped back. “You best be glad I’m not petty, or else I’d have let him kill you.”

Jack was, wisely, silent as you helped Danny up and out of the building. Danny was also silent, but was definitely smug about it.

“Y’know I totally won that fight,” he said as you exited the building.

You sighed. “Sure. Whatever. Let’s go home.”

The next day, you got a call from an unknown number.

“This is Jack,” the voice on the other end said when you picked up. “I’m calling to apologize for beating your brother up.”

“Apparently he won the fight.”

Jack snorted. “Sure he did. Look, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

A pause. “Cool. See you around.”

“Yeah. See you.”

He hung up first, leaving you with a dead hole in your chest. When you would see that cowboy again, you didn’t know, but when you did, oh boy was he in for it from you.

Ezra:

Pain Sharing Soulmate AU

You were screaming.

Well, screaming may not have been the word to describe the feeling. No, the agony in your right arm was numbing pain, the kind of pain that brought out animalistic noises and made spots dance across your vision. You writhed on the floor, clutching your upper arm and begging someone, anyone, to make the pain stop. A few nurses you worked with tried to dose you with painkillers, but nothing could touch soulmate pain.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the pain began to fade. You’d had some aches in that arm after a stab that was really painful and you’d assumed some kind of injury that your soulmate had sustained was being treated. But that, that harsh, indescribable pain that had you sweating and panting on the floor with your head spinning, you had no explanation for that.

After that, the nurses set you up in the break room with fluids and a light snack. Your right arm still hurt like hell, but it was manageable now. As time passed, the pain passed, until it was no more than a dull ache once more, with some odd numbness that lingered in your fingertips.

Of course, on the day you decided to try working for a few hours, your soulmate went and got himself fatally injured again.

Gasping and falling sideways, you gritted your teeth through a scream as your gut lit on fire, as if someone had driven a knife into your belly. It was the second time in three days that your soulmate had put you through this. What the hell was he doing?

Yet again, you were put in a room to wait out the pain, probably scaring patients with your sobs and pleads for any merciful god to put you out of your misery. This pain refused to fade, and you completely missed the wail of emergency sirens as a new patient in critical condition arrived.

Eventually, finally, the pain forced you unconscious.

You woke a few days later, breathing deeply as you realized you weren’t in any pain. The faint voice of a doctor met your ears as you slowly regained your senses.

“We’re all shocked they survived. With pain like that, I surely wouldn’t have been as strong as they were. First it was their arm, and then their stomach. We still don’t really know what happened.”

The doctor turned to you, and smiled when he noticed your open eyes. “Finally, you’re awake. We have someone who wants to talk to you.”

You grumbled, trying to string together the past few days. “What?”

The doctor gestured to a man sitting in the other bed in the room. “This is Ezra, our critical patient from a few days ago.”

“I was too busy being stabbed in the stomach to notice any crit patients,” you pointed out.

“Yes, well,” the doctor said with a smile. “He may have some answers for you.”

You sat up, rubbing your aching head and facing the other man in the room.

He looked like hell, face sunken and shining with post injury sweat. You reasoned that you probably didn’t look much better. But the interesting thing about the man was his bandage wrapped right arm. Or more accurately, his lack of an arm that was wrapped in bandages.

“Hi Ezra,” you said slowly, rubbing your temples. “Is this my headache or yours?”

Ezra chuckled. “I think it’s yours,” he said. “I can’t feel any of my own pain right now.”

You sighed. “Doc, can I get some painkillers? I got a headache.”

The doctor nodded, grabbing a few pills, but you shook your head. “The good shit, please.”

Smiling, the doctor picked up a syringe and lifted your left arm, considering your right still felt a bit numb. “Countdown?”

“Nah.”

The doctor gave you the painkillers, and you watched Ezra wince at the pinch from the needle as it hit your skin. Laying back as the painkillers took effect, you sighed, looking at Ezra. ��I’d love to stay and chat,” you murmured sleepily. “But this stuff works fast.”  

Ezra smiled. “Don’t worry songbird,” he said. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

Javier Peña:

Soulmate’s Name on Wrist AU

“Get up! New client!”

You groaned, adjusting your top and trotting into the hall, standing with the group of women waving and giggling at the new client. He looked up at your group, a light grin on his face.

“He’s cute,” you said to the woman next to you.

She nodded. “He’s a regular at places like this,” she said. “Says his name’s Javier.”

You froze, the small name tattooed on the inside of your wrist practically burning. “Javier? He got a last name?”

“Not that he’ll share.”

In the end, you were Javier’s lucky victim, mostly because when he asked your name and you responded, his watch-covered wrist twitched. So he was your soulmate. Or at least you were his. He showed you bliss, paid you handsomely, and left without a word but with a spark.

Two weeks later, you ran into him again. You’d been in touch with a man at the US embassy about cartel stuff, mostly that the cartels had been reaching out to people like you and you wanted to stay safe, and the man had invited you to come over and give a statement. You were hesitant, of course, but the man looked kind enough, and the other employees knew him well enough that you felt secure.

“This is my partner, agent Peña,” the man said as he gestured you into a room. “But,” he said slowly, eyeing the bare name on your wrist. “I think you knew that already.”

“I did.”

Javier took a breath. “Can we get this done with?” He said, trying to sound annoyed but only succeeding at stressed.

Your statement was quiet and precise, and before you knew it, Javier was walking you out.

“Javier,” you tried.

“Don’t,” Javier growled. “Just go, forget you ever met me.”

“I can’t!” You all but yelled, grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t walk off. “I’ve been wearing your name since the day I was born, you think I can just forget all of that?”

Javier was quiet. “You think I want a soulmate?” He asked quietly, and you froze.

“I’m sorry?”

“No!” Javier growled, shaking his head. “I mean, fuck. This job, if they find out you’re connected to me, they’ll kill you.”

Your blood went cold, but you kept your composure. “Hate to break it to you,” you said, shoving Javier’s sleeve up and exposing your name written on his wrist. “But we’re already connected.”

From that day forward, you were under protection. You quit your job, moved reluctantly to an apartment that was secured by the embassy, and barely left the brand new apartment for anything. The war on drugs dragged on, and every so often, Javier would shuffle across the hall and find solace in your arms, always leaving before dawn.

One night, after a particularly hard day, you and him were tangled together on the couch, name wrists pressed against each other. Your skin burned and prickled at the intimate contact, but Javier was so lost he didn’t even notice.

“Javi?”

“Hm?”

You smoothed through his hair. “Will we ever be safe enough to be soulmates?”

Javier was quiet. “I don’t know.”

You sighed. “One day, I hope we will.”

Another long silence, and then Javier spoke up. “Me too.”

That morning, you woke up in his arms instead of in an empty bed, wondering exactly how life would shake out now that you had fallen in love with your soulmate.

Maxwell Lord:

Dream Sharing Soulmate AU

“I’m going to cry,” you groaned, pressing your head to the table. “He hasn’t slept in days.”

Your coworker, Ellie, sighed. “Hon, you just gotta keep trying. Go home, rest up. Get some sleep.”

You stood. Ellie was right. Just because Max wasn’t sleeping didn’t mean you had to punish yourself. You’d been going rounds with him for months, and it was really starting to weigh on your own sleep schedule. All you needed, all you wanted was to go home and sleep for days to correct your broken internal clock.

Your apartment was cold when you got back, and you quickly fiddled with the thermostat before stripping and falling into bed, cuddling up with the blankets and falling asleep almost immediately.

Just as with every night your soulmate didn’t sleep, you didn’t have a soul dream. Instead, you had your regular dreams, all nonsensical and silly. You woke up at one point to eat before falling back into bed, still exhausted.

This time, your dreams were different. You were in a soul dream, which meant he was finally sleeping.

“Max!”

No response as you ran around the elementary school, but you quickly skidded to a stop, seeing bullies mock a young boy for his lunch. That was your Max as a child, and you immediately rushed to his aide.

“Max.”

The real Max, the one who was asleep right now, looked at you with worry, finally tearing his eyes off the bullies. “You.”

“Me,” you said softly. “You need more sleep.”

Max shrugged. You knew who he was, after all, who didn’t? But the suave businessman you knew on TV was very different from the scared man you knew from your dreams. “Wasn’t tired.”

“For three days?” You asked. “Max, that isn’t healthy.” You felt a tug on your gut, a signal that your dream was starting. “C’mon.” You held a hand out, offering Max a reprieve. “My dreams are kind.”

He accepted, taking your hand as you led him to your dreams. In your subconscious reality, you were a child again, laughing and ice skating with your parents.

“Can you skate?” You asked Max, still holding his hand. He shook his head.

You smiled. “That’s okay, you can learn.” You snapped your fingers and skates appeared on both of your feet. “C’mon!”

Turned out, Max was an abysmal skater, but he was laughing by the time your bodies were ready to wake up.

“I don’t wanna go,” he admitted, and you grinned, squeezing his hands tight. “Can we do this again?”

“Tomorrow night,” you promised. “I’ll find you.”

For almost a month, you rescued Max from embarrassing or painful dreams, taking him to your more comforting dreams. Occasionally, he’d do the opposite for you when you had a nightmare, but you mostly spent the nights in your dreams, watching fireworks or going swimming. His darkest secrets were no longer secret, and he trusted you with everything.

“Y’know,” he said softly as you and him watched a Fourth of July fireworks show from when you were seven. “We could do this in real life.”

“We could,” you murmured, leaning closer to him. “The fourth is, what, next week? Doesn’t DC do a beautiful fireworks show?”

Max nodded. “We could make our first shared memory.”

You smiled. “We could,” you agreed. “We will. I’m not too far from DC, I can totally drive down on the fourth. I’ll pick you up from work, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds perfect,” Max murmured softly. “Dreamlike even.”

You laughed. “Dork.”

“Hey, you fell in love with me!”

“Yeah,” you said, looking at Max’s firework illuminated face. “I did.”

Pero Tovar:

Color Soulmate AU 

You pressed the leaf between your fingers, trying to gauge how sick the plant was. The grey color didn’t worry you, because you were fairly certain it was still green. “It just needs more water,” you determined, standing and brushing yourself off. “Try watering these plants daily instead of every other.”

The woman you were helping nodded, and you smiled at her as you walked back to your own garden. Rolling your sleeves up, you got to work tending to your plants.

It was hours before you looked up, alerted by the sound of hooves on the ground. A mysterious man was sitting atop a horse, his hair long and greasy, his face creased from what you imagined was a grueling ride. He jumped off the horse and stumbled in your direction, leaning against the fence. You stood, abandoning the plants in favor of helping the man.

He shook off your help, but stopped the second his hand connected with yours and both your worlds exploded with color.

You stumbled back, the sudden colors shocking you as the man reeled from you, his sun battered face full of shock.

“I’m sorry!” You said quickly, steadying yourself and reaching out to the man. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the man said firmly, right before he passed out.

Two days later, the man woke up, his partner by his side. The blond man had showed up yesterday, introducing himself as William and the mystery man as Pero Tovar.

Pero looked around, nervous as he saw you in the corner, slowly and methodically mending his shirt. “William, quien es este.”

William shrugged. “I don’t know. Not a nurse, from what I can tell.”

“Diles que se vayan.”

“I’m not leaving,” you said, without looking up. “And please continue to talk about me in a language you assume I don’t understand.”

Pero blinked a few times. “You’re smart.”

“I pick up on languages fast,” you said, setting down the mended shirt. “Who are you, Pero Tovar?”

William looked between you two before finally speaking up. “Should I leave?”

“Please,” you said.

William left, and you crossed your legs. “So, who are you?”

“No one you should know,” Pero growled, getting up and grabbing his shirt. “Just forget you ever met me. You have your colors, go live a happy life.”

You frantically tried to keep him in the village, but he left with William as soon as the local medic deemed him okay.

For the next week, you slowly learned colors, finding your favorites with much trial and error. Some of the village women who had lost their soulmates in battles consoled you as you grieved for a man you barely knew, a man who had given you a universe of change and then left as if it had been nothing.

Almost exactly one week later, the sound of hooves rang out again, and this time, you didn’t look up from your gardening. At least, not until the visitor entered your garden, standing in front of your vegetables.

You looked up at him, taking in a much neater and more groomed Pero. He seemed nervous, shuffling from foot to foot.

Standing, you raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

Pero nodded, handing you his dagger.

You took the weapon. “What’s this?”

“In my culture,” Pero began. “When a man is ready to settle with his soulmate, he must give them his most prized weapon as a way of showing he is ready to stop fighting and raise a family.”

The dagger gleamed in the sunlight, and you smiled. “Well then, I guess I should make dinner for two, shouldn’t I?”

Pero grinned. “Yes, that would be nice. I’m hungry.”

[boxofbadaddiction]

In a Word

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing. Small depictions of PTSD. Post War.

Summary: The War changed Fred. His brush with death had an unexpected affect on the joyful young wizard and, unfortunately, created severe turmoil in his relationship with Y/n.

Prompts: 12, 15 & 20

"You're over me? When were you...under me?" // "I'm sorry. Maybe I can make it up to you by...taking you roughly in the barn." // "This can't be it./Then how come it is?"

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Not much was said about Fred Weasley, in fact most of the time he could be described simply in a word. He was loud. Boisterous. Confident. Some even called him Unstoppable. Those weren't the words [Y/N]'d use to describe him though.

Although, these days there were only two that came to mind when she thought of him. He was her ex. And he was afraid. Not that he would ever admit the fact.

Stubborn. That's another word for Fred Weasley.

The war had changed people. She'd seen it in the faces of friends, and family. In the eyes of strangers, and in her own reflection. Fewer people laughed while more cried. Many left hollow shells of their past self.

The same couldn't be said for Fred. He was different. The complete opposite. While others withdrew into themselves, he had never shone so bright.

If you thought he were loud before you'd be surely mistaken. These days he laughed harder, pranked more and never stopped moving. It was like he saw it as his job to single handedly bring joy back to the world. To shine light where darkness had taken root. Which isn't a bad thing, but now he had trouble on knowing when the joke needed to end.

His girlfriend suffered most as a result. She'd grown tired of feeling like the mother of a hyperactive toddler on a sugar rush. She'd attempted to talk with him on countless occasions. To have him confide his fears in her, but he never did. He did his best to never let on that he was hurting, but his best just wasn't good enough. She still saw it. Because if you looked closely enough you'd notice the way he jumped more at loud noises like he hadn't before. Notice the look in his eyes when he was with family or friends, how he seemed to try and memorise every detail of them, incase he wasn't here tomorrow to see it. It broke [Y/N]s heart to see him suffer in silence. But it didn't hurt her nearly as bad as when she had to leave him.

The problem between them was that Fred just never spoke about the war. Whether to offer himself a reprieve, or to be that support for another. Any worries someone had would be brushed off with a joke. Even on the day [Y/N] left he had a witty retort lined up at every word she said.

"Damn it Fred! This is serious!" She pushed herself up from the dining room table.

"Must be to have your nostils flaring like that" he laughed. [Y/N] groaned loudly in frustration. Why was he incapable of being serious? Pacing the room in anger Fred watched as his girlfriend tried desperately to calm her emotions. He swallowed thickly quickly becoming uncomfortable in the tense atmosphere.

[Y/N] tugged at the roots of her hair, ran her hands down her face, pulled them over the back of her neck. She tried anything to rid her body of these stressful feelings as her mind raced a million miles an hour.

"Why can't you just talk to me!?" She shouted, arms being thrown out pleadingly towards her boyfriend. Face begging to understand him.

"I do."

"No you don't. Not about things that matter. Not about what's on your mind or how you're feeling. Hell! Fred, it's been so long since we've had a meaningful conversation I don't even know if you love me anymore." Her eyes were stinging red as they began to glisten with tears over her words. Fighting with every bit of strength in her body to keep them from falling.

"Of course I do.' Fred's face was the most serious it had been since the War. This was the first time in months she had seen it without a smile. That sickly fake smile.

Brows furrowed as he raised from his chair he walked to his partner. Snaking his arms around her waist as she turned her face away from him.

"Hey", his hand cupped her chin making her look at him, "I do love you. I'm sorry." He pulled her into a tight hug, resting his chin on the top of her head as her hands met at his shoulder blades. His chest vibrated against her cheek as he spoke, "maybe I can make it up to you" he leant back to peer into her eyes. Looking away as if deep in thought, "by...i dunno, taking you roughly in the barn?" he began laughing. [Y/N] pushed out of his hold tears falling in anger. "Oh, come on [Y/N]"

"NO! Fred. Just...no." she snapped, her back to him. One hand came to her temple, massaging to try and dull the pain throbbing in her mind. "I can't do this anymore." Her voice were no more than a whisper, but still it carried to Fred's ears. The room fell deadly silent as he processed the words. No, he heard wrong. He had to. "What?" His breathing began to pick up in panic. "I can't do this anymore!" Hot, fat tears spilled from her eyes as she turned shouting. "I can't keep pretending everything's okay, that I'm okay. That you're going to let me in and admit you're hurting because I know. I know you're hurting too." Fred was paralysed. This wasn't happening...

[Y/N]s voice softened "I can't just carry on in denial like you're choosing to, Fred. I-" her throat seemed to close over itself. No words or air able to break through. Biting her lip as her eyes ran the room, searching for an answer that just wasn't there. She dropped her head as more tears started to fall.

Seeing the woman he loved so distraught in front of him, because of him, killed Fred. It was like being trapped under that wall all over again, and he was suffocating. He hated that feeling. The one that plagued his very existence in every waking moment. He made so many jokes these days to distract himself from feeling just that. He stayed silent to protect the people he loved, but he'd just caused more damage.

He moved towards her again, carefully as if he'd scare her if he were to move too quickly. "Hey..." his voice cracked under the pressure of it all but still he forced a smile through the pain, "I know things have been difficult lately. With work and the-the aftermath of it all but...we'll get through this. Together. We can-" "No Fred." She looked up into his pale face, seeing his eyes widen. " 'We' can't. Not this time."

"No, no-no-no-no, please!" He willed himself forwards. Clutching her hands in his own and pulling them to his chest. "Please, [Y/N], love. I'm sorry this...this can't be it." His eyes were frantically searching her face, begging her.

"Then how come it is?"

That was nearly two years ago now. They'd seen hide nor hair of one another since. [Y/N] had been on a few dates here and there but none felt right. No one could make her feel like Fred did. It broke her heart to leave him, but she knew it was the right thing to do. Being away gave her the time she needed to heal and cope with the reality which Fred had been determined to ignore.

As [Y/N] was finishing her day at work she decided to reward herself for surviving a particularly stressful week by heading for a few drinks at the new bar that had opened up in Diagon Alley a couple months back. She'd been dying to go, all her friends say it's fantastic unfortunately she'd never had occasion to accompany them.

So, with a quick stop home to shower and change she apparated to the entrance of the Bar.

It was everything she had heard about and more. As she sat on a stool by the counter she couldn't help but marvel at the interior. The ceiling glimmered with tiny lights that reminded her of the stars (which in turn reminded her of the ceiling in the Great Hall of Hogwarts), and the floors were gorgeous hardwood with Bar to match. It was hard to believe such a classy place existed in Diagon Alley. Swivelling back around in her seat to face the bartender she ordered herself another drink.

Her hands played with the cool exterior of her glass while she starred absent-mindedly at nothing in particular. Lost in her own thoughts as she enjoyed the night to herself.

"[Y/N]?" a familiar voice called from behind her. Her eyes shot up to the mirror on the wall, behind the whiskey shelf and there she saw him. A dishevelled mop of red hair emerging from the crowd of people bustling about the dance floor. "Fred?" She spoke more to herself before turning to face him.

Standing as he approached, their mouths were both agape ever so slightly. They stared for a moment before a single laugh fell from Fred's lips, one of shock and amazement, followed closely by that signature Freddie grin.

"It's so good to see you." Before he could register his movements his arms were already tight around her body. "You too".

He let her go slowly, standing back bashfully to admire her. "What are you-" he stopped himself. He was going to ask what she was doing here but out of fear she may be on a date he decided against it. "What have you been up to?"

"Not much. You know just work mostly. Actually I was just promoted a little over a month ago so it's all been really good." Her smile was genuine as she answered him and it made his heart soar to see her so happy again. Even if it weren't with him. Fred so deeply missed that smile, he missed all of her more than he could ever put into words. "That's fantastic! I'm happy for you." He knew he was staring but he didn't care. She was still so beautiful. Seeing her, being near her after all this time, was like a cool breath of fresh air he didn't realise he needed so bad.

"How about you? How's the store, and George?" "Great. All great. We're opening a store in Hogsmead shortly. Prime real-estate in our opinion, so close to the school. Couldn't pass up the chance to drive McGonagall up the wall either." [Y/N] found herself laughing hard at his comment. He was just like she remembered, before the war. Not trying to be funny it just came naturally. He looked happy. "That's amazing. I'm glad everything's going so well for you. God! It's been so long." "Too long."

There they went staring again. Both in awe of one another.

[Y/N] was the one to realise, or perhaps Fred just didn't care, but sensing the lull in conversation she cleared her throat - glancing over the room briefly.

"George is here." Fred spoke abruptly. Desperate to keep talking with her he threw out the first thing that came to mind. "A few of us came out for drinks tonight. Would you like to join us? I mean, if you aren't expecting someone." The words left a fowl taste on his tongue and an ache in his chest, praying she weren't with anyone. "No, I'm here alone", prayers answered. "But I couldn't possibly impose." "Impose? Please! We'd be offended if you didn't." He joked "come oooon...one drink?" putting on his best puppy dog eyes, that silent beg she never could resist. She pursued her lips, pondering his request for a moment. Would it be awkward? God she hoped not. "Okay." She raised a finger in front of her face with a stern expression, "one drink." "Atta girl!" He grinned widely, taking her wrist in his hand and whisking her through the close knit crowd to a booth to the back of the room.

Safe to say she was there a lot longer than one drink. As one turned to two, two turned to three and soon the minutes had stretched well into hours. Everything felt so safe and familiar back in the company of her old friends. Soon enough though, as was inevitable, it was just the two sat within the booth as everyone else vacated for the bar, dance floor or home.

In the comfort of each others company the two couldn't help but reminisce, on their Hogwarts days mostly. The two were in hysterics as [Y/N] recalled the time she failed to prank Snape which lead to Fred swooping to her rescue, taking the fall. "I had detention for a month after that." He laughed at the memory, "I said I was sorry!" [Y/N] was wiping tears from her eyes. "Hands were blistered to Hell by the time I'd polished all those damn trophies." As her stomach cramped [Y/N] burried her head in her hands, trying to compose herself but failing. Fred watched her, shoulders quaking in silent laughter at how adorable she looked in this moment. Finally having control of herself once again [Y/N] adjusted her posture while stretching her jaw that'd cramped from smiling so much.

Fred lifted his glass to his lips readying himself to drink, "I still remember the day you confessed your undying love for me", he threw his head back finishing the beverage. "Practically screammed it for the whole school to hear." He smirked. "Oh it was not like that!" "It most certainly was!"

"Just tell me what's wrong!" Fred bellowed, storming after the angry girl ahead of him. Arms wide pleadingly.

"It doesn't matter! None of it matters now!" [Y/N] called over her shoulder as she rounded the corner into a quiet corridor.

"Clearly..." Fred ran to stand in front of her, hands grasping her shoulders to keep her in place, "it does." She rolled her eyes, turning her head away from him. "It doesn't matter because I am over you Fred!" She pulled out of his grip standing confidently before him. "I'm over you."

Freds face lost all emotion. They stood in silence as realisation dawned on [Y/N] slowly, rising through her spine like a chill. A hand coming to cover her mouth as the other wrapped around her stomach like she was going to be sick. "You're over me?" [Y/N] backed away from him and found herself pressed against a cold stone wall eye's wide in horror. "When-when were you...under me?" His brows furrowed, turning confused to find her on the ground now, hands tugging at the roots of her hair with knees to her chest.

An endearing sort of chuckled rolled from his throat past his lips, sounding dangerously close to a scoff. Shock subsiding slightly he shook his head while approaching his best friend. Crouching before her.

"Look at me."

[Y/N] shook her head quickly. Hiding her eyes in the palms of her hands. "No." she mumbled.

"Please, look at me"

"No!"

"[Y/N]!"

"NO!"

"Oh for the love of - [Y/N]!" her arms were suddenly being pulled from her face as she was made to stand infront of him.

Embarrassed by her confession [Y/N] became defensive, "WHAT!? Okay, yes, I like you! I have for a while. I tried not to, tried to stop myself but I couldn't! I'm sorry! So go ahead. Make your jokes. Have a good laugh, I don't care anymore!" She was waving her arms frantically as she yelled. Staring directly into his eyes, which were glaring incredulously back. "You're insufferable, you know that!?" He snapped. [Y/N] scoffed, mouth falling wide at the insult. "Oh yeah? Well, you're a-"

Her next words were cut out by Freds lips on hers, hands cupping her face before one looped the small of her back to bring their bodies tight against each other. Her hands held onto his biceps. She felt herself melt into the kiss she'd been dreaming about for months, although it was under vastly different circumstances. Moaning softly at the warmth spreading through her body. Much to her dismay Fred let go of her, pulling back to catch his breath. A grin forming on his face as he looked down at her. "I'm a what?" His tone playful. [Y/N] stood breathless for a moment glancing at his lips, " You're a...really good kisser." She whined pulling him back in for another.

Fred was doubled over in their booth from unrestrained laughter. "Okay, so maybe a few people heard. There was an awful lot of yelling." [Y/N] giggled, watching him fondly.

"LAST DRINKS!" called the bartender. Their attention shot towards them, expressions falling solemn. When had it gotten so late?

"I-I should probably get going." She kept her eyes on the bar as she mumbled the words knowing if her eyes met his she'd crumble. Freds eyes were fixed to her profile. This couldn't be it. He wasn't ready to say goodbye. "I'll walk you." He jumped from his seat, "still at the same place?" He smiled and reached his hand out for her to take. Finally her gaze met his, smiling immediately, she took his hand nodding.

The walk home was interesting, to say the least. Both were considerably drunker than they realised, stumbling about the Alley way they were relying solely on one another for the stability to remain upright. Fred was cracking jokes as [Y/N] all but hung from his arm where their elbows interlocked.

Howling laughter echoed noisely through the deserted street. Several times Fred found himself taking hold of her waist to keep her from falling. The last he decided it were safer just to keep them there. Hugging her tightly from behind they walked step-in-step, as he swayed her dramatically enjoying the giggles that erupted from her at the action. For anyone observing the scene they'd never wager the two weren't a couple.

[Y/N] was squirming under his hold as his fingers began tickling her sides. Eliciting various shrieks, squeals and 'no's from her mouth. She bent far forward trying to distance herself from his touch, Fred took advantage of the action sweeping her off her feet into a bridal style hold. "Right let's see now, where were you." He scanned the lining apartments counting to himself over the loud sound of [Y/N]s laughter. "Ah, here we are!" He exclaimed, jogging up the short flight of stairs to the door, effortlessly. "Your stop, M'lady" he bowed placing her feet firmly on the ground. "Why thank you kind Sir." She was visibly flustered from the amount of contact and laughter they had shared tonight. It just all felt so right with him.

As she rummaged her coat pocket for her keys and looked back to him the scene changed. Their faces falling sullen and the night deathly quiet. This was it wasn't it...goodbye?

"Thank you for walking me home and-and for tonight. I had fun." She swallowed the lump in her throat that formed over her awkwardness.

"Anytime" Fred shook his head, though he tried to smile it didn't last long. He felt like he could breathe again and to say goodbye meant suffocating. How could he tell her, tell her that a life without her in it wasn't worth living? How could he prove he's changed? Did she even feel the same way anymore? He searched her eyes, praying to find the answer hidden within them.

"Anyway, I should-" she gestured to the door with her keys.

"No, yeah. Of course." He smiled, but that hand that shot to rub the back of his neck gave him away. He was nervous. Even after two years she could still spot his tells a mile away. He wanted to say something and from the thundering in her chest [Y/N] could guess what it was. Because she felt it too. She was opening her mouth to speak -

"I'll see you." He was walking away. Why was he walking away?

[Y/N]s mouth fell open, watching him stride into the distance. Her mind willing her to do something. Say something. Fuck, say ANYTHING!

"FRED!" she stood at the edge of her stairs. The call of his name turning his attention back to her. Heart racing.

Her mind was fumbling over the words to say. The love of her life was there. He was right there waiting for her...

"I'm...I'm still under you." She kicked herself for how awkward that must have sounded.

Fred's head dropped in sigh. Running before his feet knew they were carrying him he leapt onto the landing beside her. Pulling her by the nape of her neck their lips crashed together. [Y/N] was smiling against his lips as tears trickled down her rosie cheeks. Fred broke his lips from hers, pushing their foreheads together as they caught their breath.

"You're insufferable, you know that?".

"I know."

There were a lot of words [Y/N] could use to describe Fred Weasley. He was passionate. Funny. Smart. Impulsive. But most importantly; he was Hers.

Completely.

[juuls]

Juulna’s ‘Hold Onto Your Sanity’ Fic, Book, and Music Recs for the 2020 Dumpster Fire... Part 3!

So you just crash-landed behind enemy lines in a war you know barely anything about except that your role seems infinitesimal and insignificant, and dumped into a year, 2020, that already seems fifteen years too long.

Before you drown your sorrows in some fantastic scotch or wine coolers for days (or weeks)… I have a proposal.

That you step back from the flames, tune things out for a bit, and try to forget about the outside world for a while (but don’t forget to vote or I will be very sad at you!).

These fics are meant to take you out of your head (I’m including more plot/story-minded fics than PWP) for the next few weeks or months as the world goes to hell (even more) but of course there are some bits of solid angst in these as there is wont to be in many a fic. Check the tags, read responsibly, don’t like-don’t read, ship and let ship, and please do leave a kudos and maybe even a comment! :)

This is PART THREE.

Check out here for Part One and most of the Marvel fic recs, along with a selection of book recs too. :)

And here’s Part Two, which has the bulk of my Star Wars and Game of Thrones recs, along with Spotify playlists!

Part Three is this one here, all about the Potterverse.

(Not yet complete) Here’s Part Four, filled with even more shippy goodness from all over the Star Trek universe. So. Many. Ships. :D

(Not yet complete) Part Five is Witcher, Man From UNCLE, Stargate: Atlantis and SG-1, Sherlock, Hannibal, and Doctor Who.

(Not yet complete) Part Six will probably be all for my newfound love of Supergirl, along with some Game of Thrones and Marvel ships I skipped, because I gotta stop somewhere with all these recommendations or I’ll be at it forever. Seriously, how much of this stuff have I read!?

But I think we all need some distractions from the world these days, eh? Or something to console us other than internet rage and a barrel of ice cream and/or hard alcohol.

Potterverse

I’ve chosen to pick fics (mostly) off of AO3 for their easy reading access, though HP fics’ golden years were on sites like fanfiction.net and other independent archives like Sycophanthex and others which have closed their doors over the years, sadly. Some of these fics date back to almost 20 years old, or more, amazingly!

For fics on fanfiction.net, I highly recommend using this link (FicSave) to epub/mobi converter rather than dealing with the frustrating app. It functions like AO3′s built-in download button.

SSHG/Sevmione

Rec assistance by @perrydowning​

Second Life by Lariope

Phantom of Hogwarts by Good_Witch

Romancing the War by Pubella

The Poison Garden by turtle_wexler @turtlewexlerwrites

A Light in the Fog by turtle_wexler

Pride of Time by AnubisAnkh

The Savage by MagdatheMagpie

Snape’s Story by Tbird1965

Recognition by jezzie (krith)

Tedium of Time by oneredshoe

Tango by Desert_Sea

Sense and Insensibility by Desert_Sea

Time Mutable Immutable by Grooot

The Twenty by Leyna Rountree

For the Only Hope by ausland @run-with-me-to-the-sea

Bundle of Joy by LadyTuesday

Our Hands Tied by multilingualism

Choose Something Like A Star by TeddyRadiator

Mistress of the Stacks by Ms_Anthrop

A Derailed Train of Thought by Ms_Anthrop

Antiquities by stormcorona

Watch Over Me by @snapeslittleblackbuttons​

Dropped Down into the Unknown by @q-drew​

Delicate Transitions by @morbidmuch​

Lay Me Low by TeddyRadiator

The Savage by MagdatheMagpie

Another Dream by @dragoon811​

A Chance For Happiness by @corvusdraconis​

Breath of the Nundu by corvusdraconis, Dragon_and_the_Rose

Just to Be by Amarti @amarti-writes-stuff​

Hinge of Fate by Ramos

Forged in Flames by @mswhich​

Days in the Sun by bluespring864

Making sure the boy who lived, actually does by Hold_en @hold-enwrites​

The Problem With Purity by Phoenix.Writing

One Step Forward, Two Decades Back by corvusdraconis

The Headmaster’s Wife by Mrs_HH @propertyofseverustsnape

The Master, the Warden, the Headmaster, and the Deputy by mak5258

Cloak of Courage by Wendynat

Hermione Granger and the Intended Vessels by ShawnaCanon

Augury and Ardor by SnapeySnax

Before the Dawn by snarkyroxy

The Love You Take by Subversa

His Draught of Delicate Poison by Subversa

and sooooo many more if you want them just ask, this is both mine and Perry’s oldest ship lol

Gramander (Original Graves x Newt)

A Gilded Cage is Still a Cage by Anonymous

take a deep breath (and let it go) by lincesque @tumbloncat

Roar by @elenothar

Matchmaker, Matchmaker by @prosodiical

Dearly Beloved by prosodiical

Basic Instincts by @manic-intent

Promised by Miss_Lv

Plan G by Aate

Heat of the Chase by argentoswan @wannahearaboutmycats

Newt Scamander’s Guide to Getting Things Done by arthureameslove

Against all Odds by Maril

Where I Belong by Mishafied

He Wants To Say, “I Love You, Nothing Can Hurt You”  by @obsidionwingsofmidnight

Arranged by Miss_Lv

death of a bachelor by gudetama (elementary)

The Graves Identity by Mishafied

you make me feel this way somehow by gudetama (elementary)

The Nature of the Beast by AntiGravitas @absolutelynogravitaswhatsoever

The Knights, the Newt, and the Rose by @yinyangswings

The Wizard’s Cat by @natecchi

The Color of Boom by gypsiangel

Signalling Theory: Blue Coat by @obaewankenope​

Flame by @esamastation​

And The Tag Read Simply: “Pretty” by @funkzpiel​

Aren’t You Gonna Arrest Me, Officer? by JoyBurd

a little bit lost by shortbread @shortbread-fanfiction​

Dramione

Rec assistance by @cuthian​

Seven Times by kerri240879

Her Beauty and the Moonlight by BrilliantLady

The Fallout by everythursday (orphaned and only available on AO3 now, but complete)

The Eagle’s Nest by HeartOfAspen

Turncoat by elizaye @imnotleavinherewithoutyou

The Virgin Conundrum by AkashaTheKitty @akashathekitty

Bad Faith by Morrighan256

Isolation by bexchan @bex-chan-blog

The Serpent, the Witch, and the Broom Closet by bitchywitchy

Silencio by AkashaTheKitty

All You Want by senlinyu @senlinyu

Static by galfoy @heymanticore

What the Room Requires by Alydia Rackham

And We All Fall Down by @rumaan

Ambition’s End by Hanako A

Wait and Hope by mightbewriting @mightbewriting

Rewriting Destiny by mayawrites95 (mayarox95)

Chronos Historia by In_Dreams @indreamsink

A Muggle-born Magic by Musyc @willhavetheirtrinkets

Hunted by Bex-chan

A Second Look by @riverwriter

The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae

This Too, Is Sacred by HeartOfAspen

Bite First, Ask Questions Later by Daredevilsinthedetails, Kaylessi

Nocturnus by In_Dreams @indreamsink

Broken by @inadaze22​

The Green Girl by Colubrina

Lady of the Lake by Colubrina

Rebuilding by Colubrina (really just anything written by @colubrina)

Presque Toujours Pur by @shayalonnie

Can’t Change the Way I Am by @nauticalparamour

Law and Marriage by DragonGrin (formerly TeenTypist)

The Tower Window by @xodramaqueenox​

Unexpected by Emara88

Something Old, Something New by Kate Dessi

Suppressed Emotions by hopelesslydevoted.xx 

Silver Blood by @freyaishtar

When the Day Met the Night by @bex-la-get

Harmony

A Marauder’s Plan by CatsAreCool (Rachel500)

A Step to the Right by CatsAreCool (Rachel500)

Eighth by lorien829

The Catalyst by lorien829

Harry Potter and the Isle of Mists by lorien829

Knife’s Edge by Celtic55

The Black Book by mosteveryonesmad

Awakening by SweetShireen

The Sword and the Snake by bartonfink1974

Dispelling the Silence by Indygodusk

One Year Later: Return to Hogwarts by Twilight’s Inferno

DraHarmony

Fourteen Thousand Galleons by @frumpologist

The Invitation by hot_elf @hot-elf

Love Love Love by MissELY @misselylux​

Changing Scenery by aethling

East of Eden by msmerlin @ms-merlinblack

Turn Back Time by Dazeventura6

Foxfire by @setissma

Come Together by @nuclearnik

The Soul of the Wolves by LR_Earl @fanficbylrearl

Running From Lions by tryslora @tryslora

An Unexpected Family by ladyroxanne21

The Prophecies by jamcreynolds

Drarhinny

Reconstruction by @aldersprig​

Fell From the Sky by BrandonStrayne @brandonstrayne​ (I really love this one, and not just as a Canadian.)

Demons From the Past by pottermum

Drarry

Rec assistance by @newtypeshadow​

Rarely Pure and Never Simple by birdsofshore

Aural Gratification by birdsofshore

Lost Among and Falling by @bafflinghaze

The Corruption Sequence series by beren @berenwrites

Sentinel ‘verse series by elyssblair @elyssblair-blog

Date Blindness by dysonrules

Starts With a Spin by Maxine @serasarahhhh​

Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrimson

Paradigm by dysonrules

Here’s The Pencil, Make It Happen by ignatiustrout

Draco Sodding Malfoy by Shewhxmustnxtbenamed @shewhomustnotbenamed

Pieces of What by Jadwiga

Found, Not Lost by inspiration_assaulted

Shared Detention by DadIWriteGayPorn

Dirty Little Secret by Writcraft @writcraft​

19 Years by shilo1364 @whimsicaldragonette​

Morning Suns & Coffee Runs by laugh_a_latte @queer-coffee​

Reus Una by purplepen76

Between Ink and Blood by Candamira

Ginmione

Distractions by @morningsound15​ 

Cissamione

(This seems like it’s a bit cracky, but there’s some good ones, I promise! I sorta stumbled ass-backwards into this ship but really enjoy some of them.)

One Step Left by Cysteine @cysteine

Extinction by @rubikanon​

Blinding Light by @16-pennies​

Somebody Loved by beforeyouspeak

...

..

There. This is much better, isn’t it?

So my challenge to you, if your world is falling, burning down around you in flames... is this:

...if you feel yourself getting anxious or depressed, whether from the news or being cooped up in isolation or bored or on the verge of tearing your hair out or jumping off that roof or grabbing something to go after the dictator-of-the-week.... pause, take a breath, open up this rec list, close your eyes and pick something, and let chance take you somewhere hopefully far away. Let yourself be transported.

Oh, and don’t click on this Google Drive link. Really, there’s not 30+ GB of data on that Drive I’m sharing. Shame. There totally aren’t tens of thousands of books, as many audiobooks as could fit, and a large collection of fanfiction downloaded from AO3 in there. (Also, not all fics have been shared to that folder yet; I’m working on it a little at a time as I download more.)

[underoosweb]

5 more minutes ch.2

No warnings: Bold italics are thoughts/ Italics are dreams

BuckyxOC!

4.6k words

                                             3 months later

It had been 3 months since Serenity arrived in the Marvel Universe and she was getting more and more frustrated by the minute. 3 damn months of the same thing. She and Steve travel all over Europe and him performing the same act over and over again. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as Steve got ready once more to punch “Hitler” in the face. She stared out into the crowd, soldiers nothing but soldiers out in the crowd. This wasn’t exactly Steve’s demographic. She felt his warmth against her back, she sighed.

“Are you ready to do this again?”

“Honestly… no.”

“Captain, it's your cue.” She turned and placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile

“Good luck.” He sighed, giving her back the same smile

“Thanks.” 

 “How many of you are ready to help me sock old Adolf on the jaw?” Silence. Serenity winced.

 “Okay. Uh… I need a volunteer.” Steve tried to hide his embarrassment.

“I already volunteered! How do you think I got here?” The crowd of soldiers laughs

 “Bring back the girls!”  There’s a cheer from the soldiers. Serenity glared

“I think they only know the one song. But um…let me…I’ll…I’ll see what I can do.” She scoffed

“You do that, sweetheart.”

“Nice boots, Tinker Bell!” The crowd of soldiers laughs

“Come on, guys. We’re all on the same team here.” 

“Hey, Captain! Sign this!” A different soldier stands, turns and pulls his pants down and the crowd starts to throw things at Steve. Serenity had enough, rolling her eyes. She walked up the stage and the men quieted down. They heard rumors of the girl’s temper and how she can beat any of them to put them in the hospital. She smirked as the men sucked their breaths in.

“Come on, Steve let’s go.”

“Ladies.” She motioned for the girls to come back onto the stage. The women run on stage and the crowd cheers.

“Don’t worry, pal. They’ll warm up to you. Don’t worry.” The senator’s aide patted Steve’s back. Serenity had no idea why she was even here if the aide was following them around. He was managing both of them. Steve’s lips formed into a tight line. 

“Go get changed, Steve.” He looked over at Serenity and nodded. 10 minutes later the crowd dispersed and so did the girls. Hopping onto the stage, she plopped in the middle of the stage. Hearing the rain hit the roof of the stage, she smiled and closed her eyes. 

“Yeah. Uh… I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more uh… twelve.”  Serenity’s brows furrowed when she heard Steve’s hushed voice 

“I understand you’re "America’s New Hope"?” 

Peggy?

“Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit,” Steve responded, Serenity rubbed her eyes but laid still not wanting to disturb their conversation

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?” Peggy asked

 “At least he’s got me doin’ this. Phillips would have had to be stuck in the lab.”

 “And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this, you know?”

“What?” Peggy asks after she sees him hesitate 

“You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I’m wearing tights. They look like they’ve been through hell.”

“These men more than most. Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-oh-seventh. The rest were killed or captured.” Serenity shot up when she heard Peggy say Bucky’s regiment. 

 “The one-oh-seventh?” Steve asked

“Bucky.”  Steve and Peggy looked over at her.

“What?” Peggy asked, Serenity stood up and jumped off the stage.

“Come on!” The three of them ran towards the colonel’s tent

“Colonel Phillips.” 

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan and his little assistant. And what is your plan today?”

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, son.”

“Colonel, we just need one name.” Serenity butted in

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the hundred and seventh.”

“You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy.” The colonel said pointing to Peggy

“Please tell me if he’s alive, sir. B-A-R…”

“I can spell. I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry.” Serenity bit the inside of her cheek. She knew he was alive and they needed to find him quickly.

“What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?”

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war.”

“But if you know where they are, why not at least…?”

“They’re thirty miles behind the lines. Through the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We’d lose more men than we’d save. But I don’t expect you to understand that, because you’re a chorus girl.”

Serenity tuned out the rest of their conversation. She came out of her trance when she saw Steve storm out of the tent.

Fuck.

She follows Steve to his tent where he starts to change and pack some things 

“What do you plan to do? Walk to Austria?” She asks Steve

“If that’s what it takes.”

“Steve, you can’t just walk there. I understand you have super serum now but by the time you get there you’re going to be exhausted and that’s not going to help Bucky or anyone.” Peggy walked in

“You heard the Colonel, your friend is most likely dead.”

“You don’t know that.” Serenity sneered at Peggy. Peggy rolled her eyes

“Even so, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects…”

“By the time he’s done that, it could be too late!” Steve tells Peggy

 The three walk out to a jeep.

“You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

“Every word.”

“Then you gotta let me go.” He gets in the jeep.

“I can do more than that.” Peggy hops into the Jeep and Serenity follows

“What are you doing?” Steve asks

“Trust me when I say this right now, don’t piss me off. I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.” Steve sat back down in his seat. Serenity smiled. Peggy drove off. The three sat in silence, Steve kept sneaking glances at Peggy. She leaned forward and whispered into his ear

“It’s been 3 months and you still haven’t told her how you feel.” She noticed his ears turning red

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Steve cleared his throat

“Whatever you say, Rogers,” Serenity sat back down

“I’m going to take a bit of a nap, will you wake me when we get there please.”

“Sure,” Peggy responded

“Ah, before that,” She leaned forward one more time this time towards Peggy

“You two would be a cute couple.” Now it was Peggy’s turn to blush. Serenity smirked

“Good night, you two. Try not to have too much fun without me.” Serenity leaned back and closed her eyes. Darkness greeted her.

She could hear his screams, it sent chills down her spine. It was blood-curdling. She covered her ears, tears pricked her eyes. Walking down the dark hall, she saw him lying there on a cold metallic table. She felt hot tears start to stream down her cheeks. He looked drained. No. Broken. He couldn’t break now, Steve. Steve will come for him. Her eyes narrowed as two men in black came on each side of Bucky. They looked over to the Doctor, who nodded. The men covered her view and his screams filled the room. The scene in front of her started to fade, she screamed and cried for him for someone to help him.

“Serenity!” She gasped. Looking around she met Steve’s concerned eyes. Peggy had the same look on her face. Serenity’s hands went straight to her face, the tears would not stop.

“You had a nightmare.” the English accent sounded like velvet

“You yelled out his name.” Serenity met his eyes

“Bucks.”

“What was the nightmare about?” Peggy asked

“I-I… They were…” She swallowed the choked sob forming in her throat

“They were torturing him. He was laying there on a table… just screaming.”

“Who was torturing him?” Peggy asked

“I don’t know. Th-there were two men and a doctor.” She knew exactly who the doctor was. Arnim Zola. 

“Hello, love.” Her eyes flickered towards Howard. His face changed once he saw her tear-stained cheeks and puffy red eyes. She quickly wiped her face.

“Howard,” Peggy responded

“I hope you were talking to Peggy, Stark.” Serenity replied, her voice a bit hoarse

“I was actually talking to you, love.”

“I’m not your love.”  Howard rose his brow and smirked

“I brought a leash this time.” Steve choked 

“You can use it on Steve, he’s bound to get into trouble.” Steve blushed and Howard laughed.

“Come on,” He cocked his head to the side

Fuck.

“This should be fun.”

She hated heights.

She was clutching Steve’s hand for dear life. She looked over at Peggy, she apologized with her eyes. Peggy understood, the poor girl looked petrified. 

“The HYDRA camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges. It’s a factory of some kind.” Peggy told Steve

“We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep.” Howard slightly yelled from the pilot’s seat

“Just get me as close as you can. You know, you two are gonna be in a lot of trouble at the lab.”

“And you won’t?” Peggy asked

“Where I’m goin’, if anybody yells at me I can just shoot ‘em.”

“They will undoubtedly shoot back.”

“Well, let’s hope it’s good for somethin’.” He knocks at his shield.

“The fact that the shield is holding up amazes me.” Serenity managed to choke out

“Agent Carter, if we’re not in too much of a hurry I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue. Would you like to join us, Serenity?”

Peggy looks awkwardly at Steve who’s getting ready to parachute. Serenity simply couldn’t respond

Steve grabbed Serenity’s hand, her panicked eyes met his face.

“You’ll be okay,”

“You can come up here and hold my hand,”

“Are you insane? You want me to walk up there and look out that front window!”

“You can hold my hand and face your back towards the window.”

“You are insane.”

“I don’t think Agent Carter will hold your hand.” Serenity sighed and walked towards the front, her back facing the window and holding onto Stark’s pant leg.

“Don’t want my hand?”

“You need them to steer the plane. I would rather not die, I’ll hold your pant leg, thank you very much.”

“Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen. He’s mad enough to brave this airspace, we’re lucky to have him.”

“So are you two…? Do you…? Fondue?” Steve stammered. Serenity snickered 

Peggy ignores Steve’s awkward and confused rambling.

“This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.”

“Are you sure this thing works?” 

“It’s been tested more than you, pal,” Stark says as their plane is being attacked Steve goes towards the opened door of the plane to jump

“Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in.” Peggy yelled

“As soon as I’m free, you turn this thing around and get the hell outta here!”

“You can’t give me orders!” Serenity snorted at Peggy’s comment 

“The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!” he looks at her and then jumps out of the plane.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”

“You say that as if you know for sure.”

That’s because she does

“Trust me.”

“Trust you?” Serenity nodded, resting her head against the bottom of the control panel. She zoned out of Howard and Peggy’s conversation and eventually fell asleep.

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

It’s been 4 days since Steve left on his rescue mission, her and Peggy got an earful from the colonel. Serenity rested against one of the tent poles watching the colonel and Peggy argue.

“Senator Brandt, I regret to report that Captain Steven G. Rogers went missing behind enemy lines on the third. Aerial reconnaissance has proven unfruitful. As a result, I must declare Captain Rogers killed in action. Period.” The colonel said as a corporal started to type his words

“The last surveillance flight is back. No sign of activity.” Peggy said

“Go get a cup of coffee, Corporal.” The colonel sighed

“Yes, sir.” he leaves

“I can’t touch Stark. He’s rich and he’s the Army’s number one weapons contractor. You two are neither one.” He pointed back and forth between Peggy and Serenity

“With respect, sir, I don’t regret my actions. And I don’t think Captain Rogers did either.”

“I just simply do not care.”  Serenity shrugged

“What makes you think I give a damn about both your opinions. I took a chance with you, Agent Carter. And now America’s golden boy and a lot of other good men are dead, ‘cause you had a crush.”

“It wasn’t that. I had faith.”

“Well, I hope that’s a big comfort to you when they shut this division down.” Soldiers start running and talking excitedly around them.

“What the hell’s going on out there?” Serenity smiled.

“They’re back.”

They follow the crowd to the edge of the camp where Steve’s arriving with the freed prisoners.

“Look who it is!” Everyone cheers

“Some of these men need medical attention.”

“Medic, we got wounded.”

“Right over here.”

“I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Faith, huh?”

“You’re late.”

Holding up the broken transponder “Couldn’t call my ride.”

Serenity smiled at Steve, she could feel someone staring at her. She met Bucky’s eyes. His eyes were the blue-green of the mountain lakes, hues that could tell tales of the sky and evergreen giants all the same. He stood there frozen, what was she doing here? Why wasn’t she back at his apartment? She slowly made her way to him. 

“Sergeant?” He blinked

“Doll?” 

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not your doll.” She laughed, her laugh sounded like music to his ears.

“I thought you didn’t like ma’am.” She looked up at him and nodded

“You’re right.”

“Doll, why are you here?”

“Well…”

“I wrote to you.” Her head snapped up

“What?”

“I wrote you letters, I thought you left or maybe you were ignoring me.” his gaze now on the floor

“Bucky…” Bucky blushed, she called him Bucky

“Every time the mail would come in, I hoped you would write back.”

Shouldn’t he have written to Connie?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t remember the way to the apartment and Steve ended up seeing me walking around. He and Peggy ended up taking me to Stark.” His eyes widened

“Luckily the senator sent me to follow Steve around and that’s how I ended up here.” Bucky met her eyes. Serenity stepped closer, Bucky’s breath hitched. They were practically chest to chest.

“I am curious though,” She met his eyes

“What did you write to me, Sergeant?”

“I wrote about everything.”

“Everything?” he nodded

“That’s very specific.” She rolled her eyes, Bucky smirked

“I’m glad you’re alright, doll,”

“Me? What about you? Are you alright?” Bucky let out a slight chuckle

“You know I was very honored to hear that you were so worried about me, but I’m fine.”

“Hear?” Bucky smirked and Serenity groaned

“Steve…” She murmured 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She said walking back towards the tent, Bucky smiled and ran behind her

“Really now?”

“Yup.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just want to talk to Steve.”

“Just talk?”

“Yup.”

“Then why do you have a murderous look in your eyes?”

“I do not.”

“Speaking of the devil.” She said as Steve jogged towards the two

“Hey Buck, let’s go get ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“The colonel is allowing us to go out and celebrate the rescue mission.”

“Serenity, Peggy wants to see you.”

“Why?”

“No idea.” 

“Before I head over,” Serenity grabbed Steve’s hand and dragged him away from Bucky

“Ah, you stay over there,” She said when she saw Bucky trying to follow them

“Yes, ma’am,” He rose his hands up in defeat and smirked

“I do hate when he calls me ma’am,” she said to herself, turning she placed her finger on Steve’s chest

“You told Bucky about my nightmare?” 

“No, I just told him you were very worried about him.” She narrowed her eyes

“I may or may not have told him you cried,” She groaned

“Steven Grant Rogers,” She playfully punched his chest

“He talked about you, you know” She rose her brow

“The whole way back, he was saying how he wrote letters to a dame and I asked if it was Connie and he shook his head. I think he likes you.”

“He’s just flirting,” Steve smiled and shook his head

“Captain.”

“Agent Carter,”

“I asked for her 10 minutes ago,”

“Ah, sorry. I just needed to ask him something. What’s up?”

“Come with me,”

“Oh no, am I going to be punished?” Peggy smiled

“No, everyone is getting together and I thought we should get ready together.”

“Are, are you suggesting giving me a makeover?”

“Slightly,” Serenity smiled, looping her arm through Peggy's

“This is going to be fun,”

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

“Ummm, Peggy,” Serenity started to pick at the pins in her hair. Peggy smacked her hand away

“Leave them alone, you look gorgeous.” Serenity stared at her reflection through the store’s window. The emerald green dress hugged her chest and waist while the bottom slightly flared out. 

“You’re kidding me right,” She looked Peggy up and down

“If Cap doesn’t ask you out, I will.”

“If Sergeant Barnes doesn’t ask you, I will,”

“Why does everyone think he likes me?”

“Because, love, he does.”

“He can’t like me, he doesn’t even know me.”

“Captain rogers-”

“Ah, don’t say Steve doesn’t know you. He spent boot camp with you.” Peggy rolled her eyes.

“Do you think I can wear different shoes?”

“No,”

“Why? I hate wearing heels.”

“It holds the outfit together, so too bad.”

“There they are,” Serenity cocked her head to the side 

“What do you think they’re talking about?” 

“Probably complaining about the men singing,” Serenity smiled

***

“See? I told you. They’re all idiots.” Bucky smiled, placing his hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“How about you? Are you ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?” Steve asked, smiling back

“Hell, no. That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. I’m following him. But you’re keeping the outfit, right?”

“You know what? It’s kind of growing on me.” The two of them smiled and laughed.

The singing in the bar stops as Peggy in a tight-fitting, deep-red dress walks in.

“Captain.” Peggy looks at Steve

“Agent Carter.”

“Ma’am.” Bucky smiled at Peggy

“Where’s Serenity?” Bucky asked

She turned to see Serenity still standing in the door entrance. Peggy smiled and grabbed her hand, cocking her head to the side to follow her.

Fuck, she hates social interactions

Bucky on the other hand was thanking the colonel for this, he was thanking the gods. She walked in and his breath hitched, he could feel the heat on his face. She looked absolutely stunning. 

“Howard has some equipment for you to try. Tomorrow morning?” Peggy continued her conversation, still holding Serenity’s hand. Bucky eyed their hands, Peggy smirked.

“Sounds good.”

“I see your top squad is prepping for duty.”

“You don’t like music?” Bucky asked

This is music? 

“I do, actually. I might even, when this is all over, go dancing.” Peggy smiled and looked over at Steve.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Bucky asked

“Steve.” Serenity coughed, Peggy narrowed her eyes and ignored her comment. Serenity shrugged

“The right partner. 0800, Captain.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there.”

“What about you, doll?” 

“What?” She jumped a bit and asked too quickly, Bucky chuckled

“Do you dance?”

“I-I don’t know how.”

“You don’t know how to dance?” Steve asked

“No, I wasn’t one for parties and I’ve never been asked.”

“Now that I don’t believe,” Bucky said with slight disbelief in his voice

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Serenity rose her brow

“A dame like you probably got asked to go out or dance all the time.” 

“Again, I wasn’t one for going out and I tend to ignore men. They tend to annoy me.”

“Do I annoy you, doll?”

“No, Steve does sometimes though.”

“Hey,” Serenity smiled

“You know I love you,” Bucky froze, she loves him? Peggy stood next to Bucky

“They have gotten close over the last 3 months, they bicker like siblings all the time.”

Serenity laughed at something Steve said, Bucky stared at her. She looked over at him and smiled. Her hands were placed behind her back.

“So Sergeant, are you going to teach me to dance, or are you just going to sit there?” Bucky smiled, standing and extending his hand towards her

“May I have this dance, doll?” She smiled and grasped his hand

“Just don’t get mad if I step on your toes.” She said as they moved to the middle of the floor

“Never.” He said softly, wrapping his arm around her waist. Serenity looked down at her feet as soon as Bucky started to move. He smiled, placing his finger under her chin. Her eyes met his, hers were full of worry while his were full of reassurance. 

“Keep your eyes locked on mine,”

“But if I step on-”

“You’ll be fine, trust me.” She nodded, staring into his eyes. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She hated eye contact, it made her nervous. She could feel her heart racing, hearing the beating pounding in her ears. Was she nervous from the eye contact or was he making her nervous, both? She froze when Bucky winced, he smiled at her and shook his head. 

“You’re doing great, doll.” He whispered

“You know Steve and Peggy are just staring, do you think he’ll ask her to dance?”

“Steve’s a bit..shy.” Serenity sighed and the song ended, she could feel the soldiers staring at them, she turned to look at them, the dream team smiled at them and rose their glasses while the others looked away from her gaze. She smiled back at the boys and laughed. Sliding out of Bucky’s grasp, he frowned as he watched her make her way towards the table of soldiers. Bucky turned, Peggy was gone and Steve smiled at him. He sat back down next to Steve.

“She had a hard time making friends.” Bucky looked at Steve

“We both did, they treated me as a joke, and her, well, they were intimidated of her.” Bucky glanced at Serenity sitting with the new group of men.

“Intimidated by her?” Steve nodded

“Peggy thought it would be good for her to get some training in and she ended up”

“Kicking their asses?” Bucky smirked and sipped his beer

“Language.” Bucky laughed, looking over at the table when he heard her laugh. 

“You really like her, Buck?”

“Huh?” Bucky turned his attention back to Steve

“You like her?”

“Yeah, don’t you?”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Buck.” Steve rolled his eyes, Bucky eyed his glass, beer almost completely gone. Serenity looked over to Steve and Bucky

“Would you like a beer?” Serenity turned her attention back to the men

“Oh, no. I don’t like beer”

“You don’t like beer?”

“Who doesn’t like beer?”

“It’s too bitter,” Serenity shrugged

“It seems that Sergeant Barnes can’t keep his eyes off you.”

“Maybe he’s just keeping his eye on Cap’s men, making sure they will be able to do their duties tomorrow.” Serenity smiled

“Maybe,” another replied

“Highly doubt it,” a voice to the right said

Serenity rolled her eyes but smiled. She shook her head and stood from the table.

“It was nice to meet and talk to you boys,”

“Nice to meet you as well,” They said, as she made her way towards Bucky and Steve.

“Peggy left?”

“Early day tomorrow,” Steve responded

“You should’ve asked her to dance,” Steve smiled against his glass and shook his head

“Chicken,” Serenity crossed her arms and pouted slightly

She sighed, “It’s getting late, I should head back.”

She started to make her way towards the door

“Wait, Doll!” She turned to see Bucky chugging the last of his beer and quickly grabbing his jacket

“What?” She asked when Bucky jogged next to her

“I’ll walk you back,” Serenity shook her head

“You should stay here. Catch up with Steve and have fun with your friends.”

“It’s fine,” She turned to look at Steve

“We can catch up later. Let him walk you.” Steve smiled

“Are you sure?” 

Steve nodded “Go,”

Serenity smiled and nodded “I’ll see you later Steve,”

He raised his glass towards her and Bucky and made his way towards his team. Serenity turned back to Bucky, he held the door open for her and they made their way down the street.

“You and Steve got close?”

“Following him all around Europe for 3 months can do that.”

“I’m glad the two of you got close,”

“Why’s that?”

“Cause Steve’s my best friend,”

Serenity faked gasped “Are you saying you wouldn’t be friends with me if I didn’t get along with Steve?” 

Bucky smirked and chuckled.

“Maybe,”

“I am offended,” She laughed

Serenity tried to run her fingers through her hair but groaned when the pins pulled on her hair, slowly she pulled out pin by pin

“I have no idea how girls can wear their hair like this, I think Peggy used at least 2 packs of pins on my hair,” She said irritated, Bucky watched her nose scrunch up in frustration. He smiled. She continued to pull pin after pin out of her hair. Bucky reached out and she froze. Serenity hated when people touched her hair, Peggy had to fight her on it. Bucky’s hand froze when he saw her glare at it, he smiled slightly and hesitantly pulled a pin out of her hair. He held it up

“You missed one,” 

“Thanks,” Her voice was shaky. She reached for the pin

“I should give these back to Peggy,”

“I don’t think she’ll mind if they went missing,” Serenity smiled, she flipped her hair in front of her face and shook her head, running her fingers through it. Flipping her hair back, she smiled brightly.

“That feels so much better.” She moaned slightly, massaging her scalp. She looked back at Bucky who had slight pink tint on his cheeks

“Are you ready to keep walking?” Bucky nodded

“Where are you staying, doll?”

“Hmm, well I’m staying with Peggy now.”

“Now? Who were you staying with before?

“By myself, Steve and the senator’s aide would stay together.” Bucky nodded

The two walked in comfortable silence, every once in a while she would hum a random melody, their hands brushed against one another. Bucky glanced over at their hands, he slowly reached over, but she turned sideways and pointed.

“We’re here,” Bucky looked over towards the little barrack. They made their way towards the door

“Thank you for walking me back, Bucky.”

“It was my pleasure, doll,” He smiled, Serenity opened the door. She turned back towards him.

“Buck,”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for teaching me how to dance,” She kissed his cheek and walked into the barrack. Bucky stood there, face red and smiling like an idiot.

Tags:

@bluemoon-icecream​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​

[icarus-suraki]

7, 15 and 21 for the movie asks!

Film Ask Game! Ask me stuff!

7. A film you wish had a sequel?

I don’t know... I tend to get squirrely about sequels. It’s so hard to do them right, you know? Unless the sequel is planned in advance and alongside the first film (Lord of the Rings for example, but that was all 3 films filmed at the same time, so it’s a bit of a fluke), it doesn’t generally work. I’m usually okay with accepting where a film ends. I might like to imagine what a sequel could be, which could be several different things and I’m pleased with all of them. And, yeah, I’m one of those people who’s totally fine with ambiguous endings. The end of Inception? I’m cool with it going either way.

So how about a “prequel” or something like it? 

I honestly and unironically love the Dollars trilogy. Yeah, the 1960s spaghetti westerns. I love them. I don’t know why and I don’t care why. I just love them. And I think it would be kind of fun to fill in the gap between The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly and A Fistful of Dollars. How did The Man With No Name go from having bags and bags of gold to working as a hired gun? Now I did hear that the story was told in a comic series and that story is a really good story, but I think there needs to be more elaboration on it. But this would have had to have been made in the 1960s, along with the other three. Because, bless his heart, Clint’s son may look like his dad, but he can’t act. 

Also, The Old Guard. That needs a sequel. I heard there might be one too.

15. A film everyone loves but you hate?

I can’t abide the Marvel movies. Sorry, not sorry, y’all. Like, they were novel when the first one or two came out, though I didn’t see them myself. But now? It’s like Marvel Movies and the Infinite Sequels now and I am le tired. Same goes for more Gisnep movies but those two categories are the same thing anymore.

I don’t have a lot of patience for comedies, though this depends on the style of comedy. Like, I love Hot Fuzz but I end up bailing on a lot of comedies. And I really can’t abide RomComs, especially when the “drama” of it is lack of communication. I hate most movies that center around a lack of communication. It’s so frustrating, holy shit. And I don’t tend to like movie musicals, The Blues Brothers being a notable exception.

I guess I have more types of movies I hate than a specific one. I’m sure I have one, but I think I’ve just blocked that memory because I hate it so much. (It’s so much easier to say what film you love that everyone else hates lol.)

21. A film with an amazing soundtrack?

There sure are a lot--and I’m playing this game as “amazing soundtrack but not a musical.” There’s just about anything John Williams has done, of course, but Star Wars feels like low-hanging fruit--like, yeah, it’s classic and it’s good and it’s recognizable, so maybe that’s too easy. Silent movies that have a known original score are always interesting. I love Charlie Chaplin’s nonsense song in Modern Times--does that count? (Does Leopold Bloom sometimes look a bit like The Little Tramp in my mind? Yes, he does.) And the performance of “Le Marseilles” in Casablanca is The Best (I learned it myself so I could belt it over any right-wing types if they started to get loud on streetcorners or at protests). But those are individual musical pieces within a film. So in terms of full soundtrack:

Mad Max Fury Road. 100%. That shit is incredible. It’s loud and intense and full of drums and Junkie XL uses real recordings of metal-on-metal and animal sounds and water and heartbeats and breathing in the mix (among other sounds). Now, full disclosure, but I love drums. Gimme that heavy shit. And this soundtrack has a lot of them (hell, there’s an entire truck in the movie that’s a whole stack of drummers on amps and with a mad guitarist dangling down in front of them). It’s visceral and emotional (as in, full of emotion, the sounds feel like feelings). It just plunges forward like a runaway truck (because that’s what it’s about). But it’s also quieter and orchestral when it needs to be quieter and orchestral, sad and aching and longing--but still not typical even then. Even the more “mainstream” orchestral parts are still unusual and use bits of unexpected sounds or different patterns, repeating the loud and violent melodies in softer tones. The volume moves and changes, the drums come in and out, the sound movies from side to side. The distortions! There are these strings that do the most amazing things all on their own when the drums go out for a minute, which goes back to the orchestral aspects, like a glimpse of goodness or what was known when the strings were there on their own the first time--hope or something like it. It’s like you’re floating on those strings. And then the drums beat down again and you’re right back down to earth. There are horns that start to sound like drums. There are horns that start to sound like strings. And the drums are there like heartbeats all the time. There are choirs of human voices (because it is a story of humans in a terrible world after all) singing as in a cathedral while views of fiery tornadoes dominate the screen. Fucking modulations and minor key shifts everywhere. And then the fucking Doof Warrior pops in with crazy electric guitars (shooting fire, of course), with reverb and ringing. And there are patterns you start to pick up on: the three “revving” sounds that repeat in more than one piece start to become a motif. And, listen, I went to see this movie seven (7) times in the theater back in 2015 because I could not get enough of it and the three distorted revs at the beginning of “Brothers in Arms” still give me chills almost 7 years later. Maybe it’s over the top for some people but it’s a million miles away from another fucking Hans Zimmer soundtrack. 

Now, pardon me while I go listen to it again and enjoy the shivers.

[boneandfur]

Time After Time 2/2

TWO

Note: the characters demanded smut. There is a link to the NSFW version on ao3 at that point. tumblr won’t let me load the moodboard. I’m very frustrated with this hellsite.

Women aren't doctors at the Front, Miss... what did you say your name was again? Ah, Miss Valentine. American. That explains it... But we do need good quality nurses... You'll be sent to France right away on account of your prior training... Jolly good, just sign the dotted line... 

"I assume you'll have the watered wine, Rookie." Ramsay leans across the table, lightly tugging the menu from Helena's numb fingers. Every little boom makes her shiver, though she's adopted the English habit of keeping a stiff upper lip. Her grandmother has told her stories to curdle your guts, about standing on a hill at Gettysburg and watching her lover ride hell for leather into battle. And I followed him, didn't I, chick? 

"What brought you here? To the Front?" Helena cocks her head at him, and Ramsay's brows raise nearly to his hairline. 

"You're bold as brass.” Ramsay snaps his fingers. “I like that. Knew it as soon as you stepped out of that line of nurses that you wouldn't turn into a shrinking violet at your first amputation." Ramsay turns to their waiter, a Frenchman of elderly years with an ear trumpet. "We'll take your best watered wine for the lady, and a bottle of whiskey." 

Helena coughs lightly, and addresses the waiter in seamless French. "(What is the special today?)" 

The old man looks sad. "(I am afraid we do not have anything special. Just some eel ragout, and fresh bread my wife baked this morning.)" 

"(Then we will take that, and your best bottle of Merlot.)" 

When the owner has gone, Ramsay smiles broadly at Helena, showing white teeth against three days shadow of a beard on his jaw. "By God, you're a marvel. Never learned much French myself, besides what I've had to behind the lines." 

"Oh, my governess despaired of me." Helena shrugs, but cannot help smiling in return. "I can speak enough French to get by, you know, but I could never pass for a natural." 

"Well, you are an American." But it does not sound like an insult.

The eel comes, and she eats ravenously, less like a lady and more like the girl who downed seven glasses of champagne and then raced her brother from Boston to Concord on horseback. 

And Ramsay drinks. Thoughtfully. Mindfully. She does not remember, afterward, nor for many years, what they said, only how she had smiled and smiled until her cheeks hurt, and the ticking of the pocket watch. 

One two, one two. Tick tock. Eleven hours. Ten hours. Nine hours. Eleven minutes and eleven seconds.

No more standing to in trenches,//Only one more church parade. 

"I had a patron who paid for me to go to medical school, a well respected chap named Naveen.” Ramsay nurses his whiskey, rolling the glass with purpose between his palms. “After school, I joined the army to make something of myself, and went to India. My wife deserted me for another man while I was gone. She didn't like the army life, you see." 

Helena reaches out, laying her hand over his. Ramsay startles, but does not move his hand away, and instead flips it over, laying his palm flat against hers and caressing her wrist with his rough fingers. She drags in a breath, the sudden widening of his pupils making her lower abdomen flutter. "I ran away from home. No one knows I'm here, or I'd be dragged back to Boston to marry a Stirling and pop out an heir and a spare before the war has even gotten started." 

"You don't even want to know about what this war will look like if it keeps going, lass." Ramsay drains his glass, and pours them both another. "I'd tell you to go back to Boston, but I can see by that look in your eye that you'll see this thing through. I respect that." 

Helena does not trust herself to speak. The wine is making her thoughts slow, but she does not want this moment to end. 

Ramsay rubs a hand over his jaw. "That was back in '09. I hung my boots up, moved to Scotland, and threw myself into practice in Edinburgh. Then that damn fool shot a Prince, and well, here we are." 

Steady, silent. Their eyes meet and the watch ticks on. Helena feels as though she is drowning. His mouth moves and she only feels the heat of his palm against hers, her cheeks ablaze. 

'Nurse! Nurse Valentine! Are you dumb or are you just deaf?! Hand me those scissors, and bring me another scalpel... These damned orderlies don't know what they're doing...'

Their eyes meet across the bloody operating table. The soldier is mercilessly unconscious, a bloody piece of shrapnel in his thigh. He'd been screaming since he came in off the ambulance, a boy of no more than nineteen, a Tommy named Elijah... 'Mum, Mum, water, water...'

'That's a Blighty, Rookie. Your first. Are you going to faint on me, lass?' Ramsay's eyes lock on Helena's. She feels the flint of his gaze go straight to her spine, and straightens up. 

'No, Doctor. I'll be fine, sir.'

'I told you Americans have brass, Ramsay!' The surgeon, Lahela, winks at Helena in passing, but she does not notice. Her gaze does not falter under Ramsay's. 'Pass me the tweezers.'

His mouth quirks, just a shade. 'Good girl.'

"...Good God, Rookie, will you drink the whole bottle? I promise my company isn't as bad as all that." Helena feels Ramsay tug at her wine glass, and relinquishes it. The lamp has begun to burn low, and from the outside of the cafe is the sound of drunken laughter. "You shouldn't walk out there alone. Come on, I'll walk you back to your billet." 

"I don't have one," Helena confesses. She pats her bag, shamefaced. "I spent my money for the hotel on books... I can sleep on the truck." 

Ramsay shakes his head. "No, no, that won't do. We can't have you more dead on your feet than usual. I have a solution. It's a bit unorthodox. Do you trust me?" 

Eight hours, three minutes, seven seconds. 

•••

Helena does not know why, but the lights from the star shells, all green and gold, make her grip Ramsay's arm tighter, and press against his side. At the corner, he stops and gazes down at her, a strange and wild new thing in his face, something she dares not name. 

Don't forget me, Helena Valentine. When this lousy war is over, I'll come back, you see... 

"Tell me..." Ramsay brushes a curl back from her brow, his broad fingertips sending a crackle across her bare flesh. "Why did you become a doctor, Rookie -- Helena?" 

"I read a wonderful book." Helena ducks her head, and looks up at Ramsay from under her lashes, illuminated by the lamplight. Behind them, to the east, she hears the screech of a Minnie, and his hands tighten on her fingers. "It was written by a Scottish doctor who had served in India, on the Northwest Frontier." Her gaze skitters away. 

People said when we enlisted,//Fame and medals we would win.

"Ah. I knew a chap who served there, in his younger days." Ramsay tucks her cold hand through his elbow. The snow is falling thicker now, and they are nearly to the hotel. A quick word from Ramsay to the proprietor -- she hears the words une chambre pour les jeunes mariés -- He knows French after all -- 

And before she knows it, she is sitting in a delectably steaming hot hip bath, strewn with lavender and rosemary. She washes her hair and cannot remember the last time she felt such luxury. 

Nine months, two days, thirteen minutes...

When this war is over, //No more soldiering for me. 

"You can have the bed. I'll bunk down with Medical Officers Gayle and Nguyen, from the -nth Platoon." Ramsay stands in the doorway, his cap in his hands, avoiding looking directly at Helena in her muslin shift. "We wouldn't want you to lose your reputation and have to leave the war so soon." 

"Stay." She feels her eyelids drooping, and pats the quilt next to her. "Please, stay." 

"You know I can't do that." Yet, she hears the floorboards squeak as Ramsay settles next to her on a chair. The inn rattles like a whizzbang and she grasps Ramsay's hand, clutching at it until the clattering of the teacups subsides. "Only a little longer, then, Rookie. Until you're safe." 

•••

Ethan watches Helena Valentine fall asleep. There is nothing he'd like more than to climb next to her in that big bed, to feel her lithe body against his. But it would be wrong, even though nothing will ever be right again after the war is over. But if he can keep her safe -- If I can keep her alive -- he dares not finish the thought. 

“You wouldn't remember me, Helena Valentine, but I was the guest speaker of honor when they hung the plaque for your grandfather at the Royal Hospital, in Edinburgh.” Ethan whispers the words, barely a murmur. The whiskey has given him courage, here in a small hotel near the Ypres front. 

Ypres, the Race to the Sea. Generals called it a triumph, but the only thing the war has given Ethan thus far has been insomnia for thirty-six hours, a hatred of mustard gas and a pair of fine German boots from over the top. 

“He was an old surgeon, a medical man, who fought in the American Civil War, but he did great things for Scottish medicine, too, back in his youth.” Helena's fingertips tighten on his palm, and Ethan fears he has said too much. But he goes on, like a schoolboy at the confessional, for who can say when they shall ever have this moment again? And hasn't the war taught him by now to leave nothing unsaid? 

“You must have been not more than twenty-one, then. You were still unmarried, with a vast inheritance that folks said you'd squandered on medical school. I knew right then and there that Jonas Valentine would have been proud of you. I wanted to introduce myself right there and then…” 

But I was too tongue tied by your beauty, and couldn't find the words. Later, when I saw you again in Ypres, I couldn't believe my own eyes. I didn't want to tell you how I felt then...

(But that will keep, until this war is over.)

Her grip loosens, and he knows she is sleeping. She sighs in her slumber when his lips brush across her dainty brow, and it is with everything inside of him screaming at him to turn around that he walks away. 

When I get my civvy clothes on,/Oh how happy I shall be.

•••

Forty-five minutes, thirty seconds. 

The books are too heavy. Yet, Helena, an oasis of blue with a red cross on one arm in a sea of green uniforms, settles in with Sherlock Holmes. Rookie... She snaps the book shut, watching the landscape go by from the army van. 

I shouldn't... We shouldn't. Ramsay cups both sides of Helena's face in his hands. The book drops to the floor. They are both damp from the bath, and his skin smells of cedar and lavender soap. 

copy and paste into your tab:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/29957496/chapters/73743633

Later, she will remember the exact way the quilt felt as he pulled it over her shoulders, tucking her in, embers in the grate and his lips ghosting across her forehead. 

•••

Twenty years on, when a new war is brewing, this is what Helena Valentine remembers: 

The air, so still and warm, with not a single lark singing. The earth smells of flowers and death, and she is sharing sterilizing duty with VAD Nurse Varma, whom she'd come over from London with. 

"I suppose you think you're better than me, being a real doctor and all, but..." Jackie's lips move, but Helena cannot hear what she is saying. All she can hear is a buzzing sound, a ringing in her head. 

One two, one two. 

Her hands tremble with fatigue over the medical instruments. 

Thirteen minutes and forty-seven seconds. 

Tick, tock. 

The table begins to shake and she looks at Jackie, their eyes wide as they clasp hands -- and then they are running -- and the bridge is shaking, it's shaking Dr Ramsay, you shouldn't be out here, it's wartime you know -- 

No one can know about this, about us. You know that, right? 

I know, Dr Ramsay.

He cups her chin in his hand. They say you're a grasping American chit, but you're my American chit now, and I won't hear anything against you. Oh -- and don't check your bag until you're on the truck back to the lines. I left something there for you. 

Then you have this -- keep it until the war is over -- it was my grandfather's and it's over a hundred years old and it's still ticking on. 

His mouth is warm on hers, tip of his tongue pressed against hers for a surprisingly electric surge.  

-- "Nurse Valentine! Valentine!" --

Helena wakes in the morning with the ashes cold in the grate, Ramsay's greatcoat draped over her. It smells of peat and whiskey, and the faintest whiff of mustard gas. Her thighs are wet and she looks under the quilts and realizes her cycle has started, and she does not know why, but she begins to sob, whether from relief or terror she knows not. 

One two, one two.

(Twelve hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty four seconds.)

Tick, tock. 

People said when we enlisted,/Fame and medals we would win,/But the fame is in the guardroom,/And those medals made of tin.

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Happiest Place on Earth

You’ve had a rough go of it recently. Your boyfriend, Chris, schemes with your boss to give you the vacation you deserve.

-

           You couldn’t lie. Your day got a million times better when you saw Chris’s contact picture light up your phone. It was a picture you’d taken of him at the beach, smiling as he held Dodger in one arm and your old dog in the other, and it made your heart melt like anything in the Los Angeles summer sun. You picked up the phone right away, walking away from where everyone was editing.

           “Hey,” Chris’s voice said brightly. “How’s my favorite girl doin’?”

           “Not great,” you responded honestly. “A bunch of files got corrupted, so then we had to get different cuts, and that means re-shoots, which means more work, and…” You sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be complaining.”

           “It’s okay to get frustrated. I was going to ask when you think you’ll be done this afternoon?”

           “I don’t know, maybe seven? I know that ruins dinner, but…”

           “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry about it. Just get home when you can, bubba, alright?” You melted again at his sweet nickname for you and sat down at your desk, flicking your Nomad Steve bobble-head that you’d gotten as a joke when you’d started dating Chris.

           “Okay. I’m sorry.”

           “Don’t say that, you’re just doing your job. I’ll see you around seven-thirty, okay?”

           “Okay.”

           “I love you.”

           “I love you too.” He hung up a second later and you rolled your chair back over to the large computer where everyone was reviewing footage. You were lucky enough to get a job in Boston right after you finished working with Marvel, so while you had an amazing job editing, it took the life out of you. Computers were finicky, and you’d just lost half of what you’d done so far because someone had dropped the hard drive and corrupted everything. You were about to cry and it was barely 10 AM. But you loved it, so you stayed, despite all of the bad. You just wanted to see this video get edited, even if it took until the middle of the night.

           Chris sighed as he hung up the phone on you. He could hear in your voice that you were frustrated beyond belief. An idea popped into his head and he scrolled through his phone until he found the phone number he was looking for. Your boss, Jenna, had gone to school with Chris, and he just so happened to have her number. She answered right away, and Chris explained everything. That you were completely burned out, your fifteen year-old dog had died last month, and that even though you desperately needed a vacation you weren’t going to do it yourself. So he took ten out of the twenty-five PTO days you’d saved up over the past year, since they rolled over and you hadn’t taken a vacation the last year or the six months before that when you first started. Your boss said she’d send you home at seven even if you weren’t done and she’d send an intern to take your spot for a few days, and Chris grinned to himself as he hung up.

           He went directly to his computer and the website auto-filled before he even typed the entire thing in. He picked out the resort that your family used to stay at when you were kids, hoping he remembered it correctly, and he calculated how much time it would take to drive there and back because he knew you would be even angrier at him if he spent money on last-minute plane tickets. Then he got tickets, one for each park, and a whole extra day for the Star Wars park because he knew you were excited to go, and typed in his credit card. Would you be pissed? Probably. But would it be worth it when he drove through the gates and saw you smile? Definitely.

           You were a little alarmed when your boss sent you home, especially with that grin on her face that meant something was going on, and you tried not to be suspicious. You got to the house to see that the SUV had moved – you’d taken Chris’s car that morning, since he wasn’t planning to go anywhere, but he must have because it was backed in close to the back gate. You stuck your hands in your coat, locking the car in your pocket, and went in the front door. Dodger greeted you like he always did, jumping up on one of your legs until he could see that you weren’t hiding a treat in your hand. You greeted him with ear scratches before deciding to look for Chris.

           “Chris?” You asked. You saw him coming up the basement stairs and walked over to him. He was holding your laundry, which he usually complained about doing. “Why are you doing my laundry? Did you break something? Are you trying to butter me up?”

           “Not everything is about you, sweetheart,” he said as he put the white bin down. He greeted you with a kiss that he just smiled into.

           “Why are you so smiley?”

           “Can’t a guy smile at his girl?”

           “Nope, not you. Spill, Chris, what did you do?” He giggled, actually giggled, and took your hand. “Are you going to give me a hint?”

           “Nope. I’m going to lead you to your suitcase…” He took you up the stairs and then let you go in your bedroom, where he’d already gotten your suitcase out. “… and you’re going to pack for approximately eleven days. Bring triple the underwear, because you know why, at least three swimsuits, and your Chacos, and two cute outfits, but mostly functional. We’re going to be walking a lot.”

           “What?” You glared at him. He was just smiling, a shit-eating grin on his face, like he was waiting for you to figure it out. “Are you why Jenna sent me home early?”

           “Maybe. Maybe not. You’ll never know. But we need to leave within the hour, and we’ll be in the car for quite a while, so download some podcasts and music for us to listen to because you’re the DJ.”

           “Have I ever told you how much I hate you?”

           “Yep. Every day, gorgeous.” He cupped your cheeks in his hands, kissed you, and then called Dodger’s name. “Dropping the dog off at Carly’s, I’ll be back in about, eh, half an hour? What snacks do you want?”

           “Uh, the usual road trip snacks?”

           “So combos, sour patch kids, and Chick-Fil-A on the way out of town?”

           “Well, if you’re offering.” He rolled his eyes and left the room. You weren’t going to say no to whatever he had planned, because he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t think you would need it. So you packed everything he told you to pack, throwing in exactly what he told you to, but you went and grabbed some of his shirts to sleep in just to spite him.

           You finished packing your makeup, because he hadn’t really said anything about that but you just assumed, and shoved the bag in your suitcase. You packed up your personal computer, knowing he would kill you for taking your work computer, and gathered all of your chargers. He was back in a few minutes and you loaded everything into the SUV, grabbing a pillow and your favorite fuzzy blanket like he told you to, and you changed into road trip clothes, also known as shorts and one of Chris’s sweatshirts.

           “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You asked as he pulled out of the house. He moved the GPS mount to the other vent, by him, so you couldn’t see.

           “Nope. You’re either figuring it out on the road or when we get there. So turn your location off.”

           “Whatever,” you said, showing him that you were turning your maps off. “How long are we driving? It’s almost 9.”

           “We’re driving until sunrise. And then I’m checking into a hotel, we’re sleeping, and then going on.”

           “Why couldn’t we fly?”

           “You would’ve been even more pissed off.”

           “Yeah, you’re not wrong.” You turned on your road trip playlist for about an hour before turning on the true crime podcast you and Chris liked to listen to whenever you got the chance to, which lately wasn’t very often. You fell asleep after a couple of hours and Chris turned on cruise control, since there wasn’t really anyone on the road, pressing the button to adjust it every so often. But for the most part, he was looking over at you and smiling, trying to figure out how the hell he managed to get you there.

           He herded you into a hotel as the sun was coming up, and you were so tired that you didn’t even care where you were. You just passed out on the bed and Chris tucked you in, heading to shower before joining you. When you woke up you checked in on Dodger, FaceTiming him, and then he got the two of you breakfast. You decided that he had to be driving down the coast because you kept seeing signs for beach highways, and that meant you were probably going to the Outer Banks or something like that. You were curious, but you trusted Chris. He wouldn’t take you anywhere he didn’t think was worthy of ten vacation days. You ignored most of the signs, but you determined after looking at freeway signs that you were going south.

           “Can I drive?” You asked, noticing that Chris was getting a little tired. He had moved his left leg a little bit and even though he’d been holding your hand for a few hours, he was getting antsy.

           “Nope. But I am stopping here.” He pulled over at a rest stop for the two of you to go to the bathroom and stretch your legs a little bit, but you were back in the car first. He looked happy as he walked back. He was wearing his gray sweat pants and a t-shirt and his Red Sox hat over the mop of hair that he hadn’t brushed that day. He threw away your food trash and then walked back, noticing you were looking at him.

           “What?” He asked. “If you’re going to keep looking at me like that, let me know and I’ll find another hotel.” You rolled your eyes, elbowing him. He scratched at his beard a little before moving his hand in between your thighs underneath the blanket, gripping your leg with his gigantic hand. He squeezed it three times – I love you – and then let you go so he could drive again.

           You spent most of the night blasting music, mostly bad pop-punk music from your childhoods, and probably listened to most of Blink-182’s discography along with the Top Gun soundtrack and even some Disney soundtracks, before moving back to podcasts. You saw a sign that said welcome to Florida and looked over at him.

           “No fucking way,” you said, suddenly catching on. He was heading toward the middle of Florida, not the coastal highway anymore, which meant you were either going to Orlando or the Keys, and the amount of hours added up to…

           “You okay?” He asked, grinning. “You understand now?”

           “Did you seriously steal my vacation days so we could go to Disney World?” He turned down Creep with his right hand and reached over to anchor his hand at the back of your head before leaning over to kiss your hairline.

           “I did. If you’re okay with that?”

           “Definitely. I love you.”

           “Yeah, I love you too.” It would be the second time you’d gone together, the first time being Disneyland at a Marvel event where he’d asked you to be his date. You usually just drove up to Maine or something for a couple days to relax at the beach, or there was one time when he took you to New York for the weekend to see your favorite show on Broadway.

           You were eager and sitting up as you listened to the last couple of podcast episodes you’d downloaded. Chris drove into the sunrise for another few hours before you finally saw the gates of Disney and you took your phone out, taking a video for your Instagram story. Chris just smiled at the camera, making it known that this was all his doing, and he slowed down. He made you cover your ears for what resort you were staying at, but when he pulled into the Port Orleans resort you realized it was because that was where your family stayed when you were a kid and you always talked about how you loved the French Quarter section. When he led you up to the room you found out that he’d gotten a view of the lake.

           “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You said as you put your suitcase down.

           “Nah, you don’t need to.” He handed you your magic band from the last time you’d gone together – you hadn’t really gotten a choice since Marvel had sent them to Chris, but when he realized that it Peter Pan on it, who was your favorite Disney character, he’d given it to you while he took the Mickey one.

           “Yeah, I do. I love you.” You hugged him tightly and he just smiled down at you. His beard got caught in your hair and he had to un-tangle it before you could part ways.

           “I love you too. We should probably take a couple showers. Since it’s the smallest I figured we’d hit Magic Kingdom today, eat dinner there, and stay for the fireworks? If you’re not too tired we can stay after hours.”

           “Sounds good.” The two of you hopped in the shower together, mostly just to save time because you were both eager to get to the parks. You grabbed coffee from the shop downstairs and waited for the bus to take you there.

           You spent almost the entire day there, until it was a couple of hours until dinner. You’d both chosen to get on a water ride even though you weren’t dressed for it, so you had to go back and take another shower before then. You decided to dress up a little bit, since he’d told you what restaurant you were going to, and saw him smile as he emerged from the bathroom. You went back out to eat dinner and then he dragged you over to where the fireworks would be, even though they weren’t for half an hour, trying to get the two of you a good spot. He was like a little kid. You were both sitting on one of the fountain edges, sipping at beers, and then the fireworks were starting. You finished your beers and stood up, throwing them away before making your way back to Chris. He stood behind you, guarding you, and put his arms around you from the back, squeezing you into a hug as the music started.

           “Thank you,” you said to him, smiling as you turned to kiss him.

           “It’s the happiest place on Earth, babe.” You laughed and started watching the fireworks. They were over way to soon and you both decided just to turn in. You were exhausted, and you nearly fell asleep on him on the bus ride back to the resort. You took your clothes off, deciding to just deal with your leftover makeup tomorrow, and watched Chris as he got ready for bed.

           “What?” He asked you, looking you up and down. He finished what he was doing and walked over to you, a smile on his face, and pulled you close to him. You could smell his cologne even though he’d taken his clothes off, too. His skin still had a sweaty sheen on it from how hot it was outside, but you didn’t care.

           “I’m going to say something so cheesy you’ll want to punch me in the face.” He chuckled and wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing your neck and your shoulder until they were red.

           “What would that be?”

           “I’m glad you’re here. You’re my happy place. Even if Disney kind of is too.” You had both known you were in it for the long haul awhile ago, but you’d never admitted that to him; that you were never as happy as you were when you were with him. No matter where you were, or what situation you were in.

           “You just had to steal my spotlight, didn’t you?” He said against your skin.

           “Sorry.” He squeezed your body closer, tangling your legs together.

           “No. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’d do anything to make you happy. I love you so much, bubba. And I’m sorry I stole your vacation days.”

           “I love you too. We’ll discuss your punishment for that when I wake up.”

           “Ooh, punishment, I like the sound of that.”

           “We are in Disney World, Chris, get your mind out of the gutter!” The both of you laughed against one another for another few minutes before your conversation shifted to the next day’s plans, and with a final I love you, you were both asleep.

A/N: This is literally my dream so thanks to whoever requested! I loved writing this one so much! 

Taglist (if you’d like to be added, send me a message!): @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter

[katierosefun]

author interview tag game

thank you for the tag, @pandora15! <3

Name: caroline

Fandoms: mostly the clone wars, but i also have some marvel stuff, and waaay back in the day, i wrote some doctor who and merlin stuff!

Where you post: primarily on ao3! i mostly just write on tumblr when i’m accepting prompts from like...ask games or something.

Most Popular Oneshot: real

Most Popular Multichap: to these memories (this fic only recently hit 1k kudos, and my heart?? w h a t)

Favorite Story You’ve Written: def. to these memories because a) longest fic i’ve ever written, and b) oh, the hours i logged into writing this fic, and c) oh, the outlining that went into this fic...i’m very proud of myself for completing the fic, and of course, i credit this to everyone who showed their lovely support for the story. :’)

Fic You Were Nervous to Post: uhhh definitely too far just because it’s...rather personal. i sometimes say that there’ll be a scene or two or just straight up a line or two that’s plucked out of my real life, and i think it’s inevitable for writers of any kind, including fic writers, to isolate their real lives completely from whatever they’re writing, and?? this fic is probably the most personal for me because of that. i remember kinda hem-hawwing about posting it, because i was like whoa, maybe this is a little too personal? but then i steeled myself and was like, “okay, well, would this have lifted my spirits when i needed a story like this??” and then decided to post it.

How you choose your titles: i def. toss and turn between titles! there’s a few fics of mine that are straight-up song lyrics (no surprise there), but to my surprise (as i was looking through my catalogue of fics just now), i realize that a lot of my fics are usually just words or two about what i think might have been extremely important to the story. (or captures the overall tone/theme of the story, anyways.)

Do you outline? for multi-chapter fics and relatively long one-shots with lots of moving parts, i’ll outline. but for shorter one-shots and prompts, i’ll usually just stick with the image that compelled me to write the prompt/one-shot in the first place! (and then kinda write around that.)

Complete: uhhhhh, i’m gonna answer relatively for all my clone wars fics, because in total, i have 74 completed fics. (make that...75, hopefully in a few minutes or hours!) but out of clone wars fics, i have 46 completed fics! (and again, hopefully 47 in a little while.) a part of me is lowkey hoping that i’ll get up to 100 total fics by the end of this year. a part of me highly doubts it, but given how much i was able to write over summer break, i’m...intruiged if i wind up somehow writing another twenty or so fics by the end of this year. (asfsf my wip list is long enough to fill in for another twenty fics. caroline finish all your wips challenge.)

In Progress: okay, so officially, time, wondrous time is in progress and online. but in terms of the works in progress on my laptop...i have...*mutters, counting* fourteen official wips. (ten of them are one-shots, and the other four are longform fics. one of them, i’m hoping to release next week (!!!), and another, i’m hoping to release hopefully around mid-december. uhhh so fingers crossed??)

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started: oops, i guess i kinda already answered that question, but eh, might as well! the one coming out next week (hopefully!! caroline get your shit together challenge!!) is titled most ardently, and it’s an obitine au based off pride & prejudice because i cannot and will not shut up about obitine being the period drama ship out of star wars okay--

and then the other longform fic that is very overdue is called getting lost in a big galaxy, which is a fix-it of sorts taking place after season 5. anakin’s gone missing, and obi-wan winds up going on a galaxy-ride road trip with ahsoka (who, remember, has left the order) to find their idiot. this is honestly my excuse to just write more obi-wan and ahsoka content. hopefully, that’ll be posted in december!! (despite the fact i...originally meant to post it in august oOps.)

and then there’s this other longform fic which...might be coming in early 2021 called red, underlined, which is essentially...uh. everyone’s a stressed out law-school student, and anakin might have accidentally murdered professor palpatine, and now anakin, obi-wan, ahsoka, padme, and rex are all trying to find out what the hell to do with themselves because they’re all in on it. (def. influenced by how to get away with murder except without the criminal justice professor to lead them through the ropes. so more chaos. kind of a dark comedy vibe, if anything else? anakin no is major theme in this one. uh, i mean, maybe anakin was justified in murdering creep palpatine because our gang’s gonna find out what was going on in the background, but either way! lots of “holy shit are we good people are we bad people what are we doing”. lots of questions about morality! ethics! law school student study nights with anakin sprawled out on the floor and obi-wan wearing glasses (which he pushes up the bridge of his nose whenever he’s about to lecture anakin that no, that’s not how that statute works, dumbass) and ahsoka just bringing snacks and rex catching paper airplanes and padme being the one to supply everyone with very neat flashcards. this fic is gonna be an absolute beheamoth, and i’m estimating about 45 chapters? like...130K+ words? help? yeah idk either this really blew up in my head

and then...this stupid, wonderful, boring, amazing job, which is...office x tcw au. only not? it’s very, very loosely based off the office, but not really. obi-wan moves in as a new manager of a company, and we’ve got anakin being like “lol new guy i’m gonna mess with him”, and ahsoka being the one who’s both like “please don’t mess with our new boss” but also being like “actually, wait, lemme help”, rex being in hr and being like “i don’t get paid enough for this”. (also there’s some parts that are written like actual interviews like you would find in the office, so there’s this one bit where uhhh

Obi-Wan flicks his eyes to the cameras in silent question before turning back to Ahsoka. “Well, if you need to call maintenance, then I hardly think you need my permission—”

“Thanks!” Ahsoka says quickly, and she’s about to disappear from the doorway when Obi-Wan stands up.

“Wait, Ahsoka, what exactly—”

Ahsoka re-appears at the doorway. “Oh, right,” she says. “Um—maybe just stay away from the men’s bathroom for a little bit.” She pauses.

“Actually, just stay away from them for the rest of the day.” She hovers by the door for a minute longer, and then she adds quickly, “And maybe also avoid the breakroom. Everything���s fine!”

And with a perfectly not-fine smile, Ahsoka disappears from the doorway.

Obi-Wan stares at where Ahsoka was just a moment ago, and the he turns to the cameras in disbelief. “Did she just—” Unable to finish his own sentence, Obi-Wan starts out the door. “Ahsoka?”

The camera follows Obi-Wan out of the conference room and into the breakroom. There are only muffled shouts—Anakin’s shouts, and then Rex’s, and then Ahsoka’s frantic “no, sorry, everything’s fine!”, and then Obi-Wan’s loud, “What is going on in here?”

surprise y’all just got a snippet i’m sorry can you tell i’m weirdly into this au?? i need to rewrite some scenes but uh there you go

Prompts: for the most part, yes! i have some stuff in my faq about prompts that i’ll probably turn down (mostly anything that’s...above a certain rating/really, realy heavy themes that i just don’t think i can tackle with justice or with enough education on my end). i can be a little slow with prompts, but i’ll get to all of them in time!

Upcoming Work You’re Most Excited About: uhhhh i have too many that i’m excited about. literally i can write a mini essay on every single one of the fics i’m working on? but uhhh i guess since i already talked about all my major longform fics above (asdfasdfsd didn’t mean to do that, i’m so sorry for everyone who had to scroll past that word-vomit), i guess the one i’m most excited about releasing is the post season 7 obi-wan-and-ahsoka-finally-talk-about-how-they-miss-each-other-also-sorry-for-fighting-with-you-i-know-you-were-just-trying-your-best fic. (not a whole ton of spoilers for this one, but uh. i’m looking at some of these scenes and making frustrated sounds because there’s this one particular instance where i’m like, ahsoka. ahsoka just talk to him just ta lk to him but then lol no talking :)) also maybe some h/c? lowkey sickfic might be involved in this somehow? might have accidentally served as a precursor to to these memories? help? this fic just ballooned. caroline keep your ideas contained challenge!)

No Pressure Tags: @lightasthesun @soplantyourownflowers @ohhellokenobiand anyone else who wants to join!

[hatsukeii]

Hi! 2, 4, 6, 8, 12, 14 for Kageyama from the headcanons list?? If it's too many, just choose whichever interest you the most! Thank you! 💜

Hhhhh ty for requesting!!

I have so many ideas from Kageyama after seeing the latest few chapters all over my explore page on ig, this should be fun~

Btw just because I crave fluff and made up romantic scenarios I will be including you as a female s/o, I hope you’re fine w that bc I’m terrible at writing same sex fanfics and I feel like including you might be fun too, sorry if it’s not what you prefer, I’ll write up another one if you want!!

(You aren’t mentioned excessively though, so don’t worry!!)

Warnings: Mild manga spoilers that have to do with Kageyama’s backstory, nothing too major though, and angstangstangstangstangst-

2. How are they like on social media?

- Kageyama’s probably one that doesn’t really have that much regarding social media.

- However he would probably have the most common ones.

- Instagram, snapchat, maybe twitter too.

- He also has tiktok now that you’ve basically forced him to download it.

- Definitely uses instagram the most out of everything he has.

- Username: milkboykags

- Followers: 992 (Since he’s pretty popular through playing volleyball.)

- Following: 745 (He tries to follow most of his followers back if they have mutual friends between them, even if it’s a fan.)

- Profile pic: Probably one of those grunge shaky pics of him with a few of the Karasuno team members and you with a dark background and stuff.

- Bio: If you don’t have milk, don’t bother looking for me. ~Me, 2k19 (He hasn’t updated his bio a year lol.)

- His instagram feed is actually pretty aesthetic.

- He has one volleyball post of the entire team at the beach playing beach volleyball while the sun sets.

- He’s way too proud of that post.

- Another one of his posts was taken when you two were on an arcade date (At that time he hadn’t confessed yet, but he asked you out just to do that) and he sneaked a photo of you trying to get a unicorn plush from one of those claw machines.

- That one he’s gonna be keeping in his feed forever.

- He has a collection of highlights.

- There’s one for volleyball practice shenanigans, one for those little dates he takes you on, another one for full on group hangouts, then one of camera wars with random people that try taking photos of him, most likely you or Hinata.

- His feed basically revolves around this filter recipe he made for instagram, which makes his photos look cooler toned and more faded.

(P.s dm me if you want the recipe bc i made it on vsco lmao no I’m not a vsco girl don’t worry.)

- He doesn’t really use snapchat and twitter.

- Only does streaks with you and the volleyball team.

- Tiktok though, is a whole other story.

- Username: givemethecows

- Followers: 1405 (People from both tiktok and instagram.)

- Following: 200

- Bio: I make videos and shit.

- Profile pic: Bass boosted you like jazz meme (Bass boosted but photo if you get me.)

- Kageyama has this whole lowkey eboy thing going on with his tiktok.

- Most the time his videos are just a way to show his weird sense of humour or his sense of style that screams casual eboy.

- Since you forced him to get tiktok, you also forced him to learn dances with you.

- He’s terrible at those.

- Like very bad.

- He managed to break a pair of Tsukishima’s glasses while doing the renegade at break.

- And almost twisted his hips trying to throw it back as a joke.

- Needless to say it’s both hilarious and embarrassing for Kageyama.

- There are also tiktoks of him doing insane volleyball tricks on camera like the demon quick, the synchronised attack, and his jump serve etc.

- Which have gained him quite the following on the platform.

- In conclusion, Kageyama is generally pretty good at social media, but sucks ass at dancing.

4. What is Kageyama’s preferred weather?

- Surprisingly, Kageyama doesn’t like sunny weather. At all.

- For him, it’s the absolute worst thing.

- He think that sunny weather is way too annoying and hot and stuffy and gross.

- Plus, going out for morning runs in sunny weather is like wearing 10 jackets in hell.

- Like you can put on an extra layer if you’re cold but you can’t just strip naked if you’re hot.

- Oh my god he hates it so much it pains him to even think about it.

- He likes rainy days.

- Definitely not his favourite though.

- Rainy days usually mean staying home for the entire day.

- He can just laze around in his house, do whatever he wants.

- The sound of rain against glass windows soothes him.

- The constant sounds of droplets hitting the windows give him a sense of tranquility and peace.

- He will quite literally, fall asleep to those sounds.

- However rainy days do have their drawbacks.

- One of them, is having to stay home.

- Kageyama likes going for runs just to take in some fresh air, but that won’t work when it’s raining cats and dogs now will it.

- Plus, it means everything he does is restricted in his house unless he can get to an indoor gym that’s open.

- Boring.

- So he prefers windy days, when the cold breeze grazes his skin and the sun hides behind the fluffy clouds.

- It’s those days where he doesn’t have to suffer the heat that the sun brings upon him, nor does he have to suffer the feeling of rainwater dripping from the tips of his hair.

- He can do whatever he wants and still feel at ease and comfortable.

- Quite literally everything he asks for in a day.

6. Favourite music?

- Let’s be real, Kageyama probably isn’t good at music.

- He can’t dance or sing to save his life.

- However, he does enjoy how listening to music calms his nerves and gives him a chance to relax, even if he’s in a situation where he should be focused on an assignment or a piece of class work.

- People would expect him to enjoy listening to EDM or alternative rock, but no.

- This boy likes to listen to lofi and love songs.

- This doesn’t mean that his playlist only consists of these two genres, but the majority of songs in his playlist are either chill lofi beats or songs that give you the feels.

- Some of his favourite artists are Jeremy Zucker, Blackbear, Conan Gray, Billie Eilish, Lauv, Clairo, Wallows, Khalid, BENEE, Post Malone, Coldplay, Rex Orange County, Green Day, Shiloh Dynasty, Kina, love-sadKID, and the Arctic Monkeys.

- Has like 5 different playlists for different moods and events.

- One for moody times, one for study beats, one for when he wants throwbacks, one for firing him up before volleyball matches, and one for if he ever has to DJ in the front seat of someone’s car.

- Prefers to listen to music by himself.

- You’re an exception though.

- If he’s with you, you get one earbud, but he’ll be the one choosing the music still.

- You two have pretty contrasting tastes when it comes to music.

- He likes softer songs and lofi the most, whilst you prefer old rock and alternative rock. Oh and also a lot of throwback songs.

- I feel like Kageyama has definitely cried to a few songs when he was going through hard times.

- To him, listening to music is also a way of releasing all the inner conflict and frustrations.

- (Spoiler for backstory) When his grandfather died, he put Fix You on loop for at least 20 minutes.

- He was just numb, curled up into a ball on his bed, staring at the wall. He couldn’t feel anything. Nothing in his mind registered properly. All he could think of, was everything his grandfather had taught him, before he eventually passed away.

- Submerging himself into the melancholy song he was listening to, he didn’t even feel the tears that were now streaming down his face.

- The salty tears were now staining his pillow, creating little wet spots.

- He listened to every single lyric in the song, clutching his sheets harder every time the chorus came up.

- He punched his mattress repeatedly, still unable to accept the fact that someone he held so dear to his heart had just left like the wind.

- It wasn’t long until he was a sobbing mess, shaking and whimpering as he knelt on the bed.

- Silently sang to the lyrics, plopping back to his bed in defeat.

- His sister lingered in front of the door for five whole minutes, eventually leaving to let Kageyama sort out his feelings himself.

- You introduce a ton of new songs to him, since he doesn’t know that much about anything else other than lofi and sad songs.

- Just please no one let him listen to Nickleback. Please. He doesn’t need to know about it.

8. Movie that he would choose for a move nigh?

- The monthly Karasuno volleyball team movie night was finally here, and it was Kageyama’s turn to choose a movie this time, much to Tsukishima’s dismay.

- He’s put a lot of thought into this, not wanting to disappoint his teammates by choosing a shitty movie.

- He basically tried to figure out what everyone wanted to watch.

- However, everyone had very contrasting requests.

- Tsukishima wanted to watch Jurassic Park, Yamaguchi wanted a Disney movie, Hinata wanted something Marvel, Tanaka and Nishinoya wanted a horror movie, (Mainly so they could hit on you whilst you were still single) Sugawara wanted a romcom, Yachi wanted a comedy, and the others were fine with anything.

- He stressed himself out way too much trying to choose one movie.

- He finally got an idea after 3 entire days of thinking.

- And it wasn’t anything the team expected.

- Kageyama pulled up with Pulp Fiction.

- He’s seen that movie at least 5 times already.

- It was the perfect mix of comedy, gore, action, and philosophy.

- Plus, anything that starred Samuel L Jackson was worth a watch.

- Till this day, it remains one of his go to movies, alongside any MCU movie. (Captain America: The First Avenger is definitely his favourite though.)

12. Something small that they enjoy?

- One of the two small things Kageyama enjoys doing is baking cookies.

- Cookies in particular.

- I mean, there really is no detailed explanation.

- He’s pretty good at baking in general, even Tsukishima enjoys the cookies he bakes.

- Plus, he gets to dip the cookies in milk, what’s there not to enjoy?

- Another little thing he enjoys a lot is actually photography.

- Most the time, when he sees a pretty sky, or a city street at nighttime.

- He can’t help himself but snap a few photos here and there.

- Something about a well shot photo just hits different.

- Sometimes, he brings his camera out just to takes nice photos.

- Whenever you two are on dates, he’ll be able to capture candid or motion shots of when you’re just looking out the window of a bus mindlessly, or when you’re twirling around on the street playfully.

- Photos speak a thousand words, and honestly? He lives by that.

14. What is enough to bring him to tears?

- Support.

- Kageyama really needs support from someone he cares about.

- And no, not like support from his teammates.

- That’s different from hearing someone cheer from the stands.

- (Spoiler for backstory) Kageyama’s parents never gave much attention to him, since they were always busy with work. The only person that ever showed support for him was his grandfather, who passed away while he was still young.

- As if that wasn’t enough shit directed towards Kageyama, his teammates abandoned him during a match in junior high not long after the death of his grandfather.

- Which means that Kageyama now has lowkey abandonment issues.

- All through his volleyball journey he never got the support and reassurance he needed.

- He watched in envy as people from opposing teams, or even his own teammates, waved at their family members after they won or lost a match.

- All he could do was stare at the stands, hoping to catch just a glimpse of a family member.

- Nothing.

- Nobody realised how alone Kageyama felt during and after matches, until they watched him break down in tears after a particular match.

- It was the Spring Match against Seijoh, and Karasuno was playing like normal.

- Kageyama was insanely good as usual.

- What he didn’t notice then, was that you had dragged his sister Miwa to the match just so you both could cheer for him.

- In addition to that, you were also wearing his jersey.

- It wasn’t until the final point was scored, did he hear you and Miwa scream from the stands.

- Hearing the familiar voices, his head basically snapped in your direction, scanning the stadium for someone familiar, before landing his eyes on you and his older sister.

- His eyes widened for a hot second, his mind running in circles.

- Nobody has ever cheered for him.

- But here you two were, cheering for him from the stands.

- And you were wearing his jersey.

- A hand went up to cover his mouth, a huge grin spreading.

- One drop.

- Two drops.

- Then came the waterworks.

- The entire team was shocked.

- Like shookth.

- The two of you ran down to the arena, engulfing Kageyama in a huge hug.

- Best moment of his fucking life.

- From then on, the Karasuno team members made sure to notify you of any matches they had against other schools, hoping you and Miwa could go cheer.

- You two haven’t missed a single match since.

Whoooo three hours of work and going straight to Netflix at 2:30am, what a life.

I couldn’t resist I’m sorry casual or slight angst is my favourite genre of hc and fanfic-

I hope you liked this xx😗👉👈

[smokeybrand]

Smokey brand Postmortem: You Suck

I don’t really talk about my love for Mortal Kombat near as much as i do for Marvel, Fate, Star Wars, or Batman, but i adore that bloody franchise. Seriously, the vast majority of this blog is just Marvel and Star Wars content but, i mean, I'm an Eighties baby. That was a massive chunk of our childhoods. See? Even in an essay bout Mortal Kombat, Marvel and Star Wars found it’s way into the conversation. I have a problem but that’s not the problem i want to address in this essay. The problem i have with this one, is the f*cking Mortal Kombat release that just dropped. F*ck did they get so much wrong! I haven’t felt this frustrated with a movie since The Old Guard. I wanted this to be a Comparison but, as i tried to coalesce my thoughts about both films, it became mad apparent to me that the Nineties version of this movie would runaway with it. How is it possible that a film which came out twenty-six years ago, sh*ts all over one with modern shooting techniques and effects? How can a PG-13 movie, saturated with tongue-in-cheek camp and constant nods to the camera, do the Enter the Dragon knock-off franchise more justice that the blockbuster, R-rated, third attempt? Yeah, so this is a postmortem now.

Issue: Cole Young

Why? F*cking why? Listen, I'm all for reimaginings. I love when people can take an established work, recontextualize it, and present something new but familiar. That’s why i keep seeing Batman movies. You can only tell that dude’s story so many times but it’s how you present that story which grabs me. I like the idea of Cole. A fresh face for the audience to view these fantastical circumstances through? Good idea. I hate the execution of Cole. Punk ass weenie who literally develops powers by getting his ass kicked, portrayed by an actor who can’t act, but brought in because of his stunt background, only to nerf the physicality of the role, relegating dude’s greatest strength to his greatest weakness? F*cking, why?

Fix 1: Drop Cole Young, Start Liu Kang

Look, Liu Kang IS Mortal Kombat. He’s their Ryu. He’s their Link. He’s their guy. Drop the family. Drop the Scorpion stuff. Drop the professional fight thrower shtick Build him up as a dude who learned all of this in the Buddhist orphanage he grew up in, denying all of it as just legend and storytelling, until he’s attacked by Sub-Zero. Force him to fight Subby-boy, only to get his ass beat without his Arcana, but have Jax save him just in time. Basically follow Cole’s plot going forward with an emphasis on Liu’s training.

Issue: Shang Tsung

Listen, Ng Chin Han is a get. Dude is a decent actor and i enjoyed he take on the shapeshifter but come on? If you’re not trying to do a Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, you’re doing it wrong. Shang Tsung should be snarky, quippy, and overconfident. This dude has won nine straight Mortal Kombat tournaments. It’s fine for him to be conniving and deceitful, Deadly Alliance, but this version of Shang is just too flaccid for the title. Hell, when Tagawa came back for the game, he STILL exuded that same smarmy energy and it was perfect.

Fix 2: Give Shang Tsung more agency

I, personally, love smarmy Shang Tsung but if you want to go different, go brutal. Make Shang the spear head of the offense. Give him a seen where he is just mowing down jobber monks in Raiden’s temple before getting real intimate with Hung Lao. Have Tsung absolutely brutalized Lao as Liu watches, breaking his neck before sucking the sole out of his limp body. You got an R, Lean into that sh*t. You gotta give Liu that Chan moment. Lao’s death not only establishes Shang as a straight up force, but activates Liu’s Arcana, fulfilling the prophecy.

Issue: The f*cking prophecy

Bro, you gotta get rid of all the Scorpion prophecy sh*t. That doesn’t fit. It doesn’t make any sense. The prophecy is supposed to be a foreshadowing of Outworld’s downfall. Tying everything to Scorpion and Sub-Zero just because Ed Boon loves the character is kind of ridiculous. And that’s coming from me, a guy who uses Scorpion as his main since MKI. I love Scorpion, Dude is my favorite character in the entire franchise but giving him such a prominent role in this first film was a mistake.

Fix 3: Make it the Shaolin Prophecy

Have Shang Tsung send Sub-Zero into the Shaolin Temple with a team of Jobbers, probably Tarkatan or other Lin Kuei, and murder everyone. It is whispered that a great champion, kin to Master Kung Lao, would defeat the armies of Outworld, sealing Earthrealm off from the Emperor's grasp. baby Liu and Kung are saved, sent off to an orphanage in the US where they grow up in an orphanage run by a weird old man who tells stories. Eventually, the two separate, Kung returns to their homeland, Liu stays in the states, and they live their lives. Fast forward a bit and Shang gets wind that there are two survivors and he dispatches Sub-Zero to go after Liu. Fast forward to the temple, Liu reconnects with his cousin, Kung, who explains his powers activated during a battle against, let’s say... Baraka? Raiden feels it, recruits Kung Lao, who has been training in the temple ever since. He spars with Liu, teaching him the secrets her learned from Master Bo Rai Cho, until Raiden’s Temple is singed. Everything lays out like it did in the film except Liu watched Lao die at the hand of Shang, his Dragon Arcana activates, and the Sorcerer knows he dun goof’d.

Issue: Fights

The fighting sucked in this, man. It was shot like none of the principal actors were physical enough to pull off the fight scenes, which is ridiculous, because that opening scene was exceptional and those dues are old as f*ck. The dude who plays Scorpion, Hiroyuki Sanada, is f*cking sixty, man. You’re telling me these youngsters with actual stunt backgrounds, can’t give me a scrap as entertaining as a sixty year old man? Word?

Fix 4: Oh, there’s a lot here, bud

First, shoot the scraps better. Holy sh*t, that Taken editing was stupid. We live in an age of John Wick, The Raid, and Jason Bourne films, but you chose to shoot these scenes like this? Really? Bro, no. Hell, the fights in Enter the Dragon are some of the best I've eve seen and that motherf*cker dropped forty-eight years ago. Just do whatever he f*ck they did, just do it with a modern twist. Two, cast motherf*ckers that can believable execute the choreography. The chick that played Sonya in the first one, had to learn her fighting n set during the downtime of production because she as late to the shoot. THAT chick was a more believable fighter than the dude who played Cole and that was his f*cking job before he was an actor! F*cking, how?? Three, hire better stunt coordinators. These fights needed to be plotted out much better. Sure, fatalities are cool and special moves are awesome but they aren’t necessary. Liu Kang through one fireball in the first MK film and it was ll the better for it. I don’t need giant flame dragons and head claps and sh*t, i just need brutal, intense, violence inflicted upon a person. These people are in the fight for their lives. I need to feel that. Four, hire more jobbers. Too many actual named characters died in this movie. Too many actual named characters appeared in this movie. Why the f*ck was Nitara in this?

Look, there’s still SO much i would change about this flick. The costumes, the tone, the choice in music, the writing; All need to be adjusted. I would hold Scorpion back until sequel. Have him breaking out of the Netherrealm as a post credit stinger or something. This movie is broken and i think that’s because WB just made this thing to secure rights or a a backdoor pilot for HBO max content. Either way, this movie is bad, man and it didn’t have to be. You can make dope ass, martial arts films, on the cheap, especially when you “ground them in reality.” Why the f*ck didn’t that happen here? How the f*ck is the budget so high, and the film so cheap looking? I miss the ingenuity of the Eighties. Cats had to figure out how to make sh*t work because CG was too expensive. Now, that sh*t is everywhere and it’s a detriment to film. That sh*t takes casualties out of practical films and Mortal Kombat is definitely one of those.

[himbowelsh]

webgott + jane/ chicken pox

a little fall of meme can hardly hurt me now  ( accepting )

AN:  this is almost certainly not what you were hoping for, but do you have ANY IDEA how much i’ve missed this little family??  writing jane??  this is officially part of the single dad web au and i regret nothing

It takes exactly thirty seconds of Googling for Joe to declare Webster banned from the house.

“What?” Webster exclaims, bracing himself against the doorframe as his fiancé blocks his way. “Are you serious? This is my house.”

“Our,” Joe corrects, because this is the hill he’s willing to die on, but not one Webster should. “The day I moved in, it became my house, and I’m temporarily kicking you out.”

“This isn’t funny, Joe. Let me in.”

“Nope,” Joe declares, and moves to slam the door in his face. Webster blocks it, and nearly gets a broken shoulder for the trouble. He’s nothing if not determined, the idiot. Gritting his teeth, Joe moves to shove him out, but Webster takes advantage of his loose stance to push himself further inside.

“My name is on the lease, so you can’t evict me — Joe, seriously, what the hell?” Finally, Webster pushes his way inside; he stands in the middle of the living room, hands on his hips. Webster’s got a Dad Mode, obviously learned through experience, and it’s in full gear now; he looks like he’s about to take away Joe’s X-Box for a week, though the genuine anger on his face speaks for itself. “What are you trying to do?” he demands, taking a step forward. “My kid’s in there, and she’s sick, so what do you mean I can’t be in there with her —“

“She’s got spots, Web,” Joe interjects, voice flat. “They showed up while you were at the store. Her arms are covered in them.”

Webster processes this for a moment, understanding dawning across his face. “Just chicken pox, then? Okay, that’s not so bad.”

Joe snorts, running a hand through his hair to force it back. When Webster raises an eyebrow at him, he just shakes his head. “That alone tells me you ain’t ever had chicken pox. So you’re gonna stay out of this house until Jane’s better, and I’ve deep cleaned everything. Not taking any chances.”

“Joe. Come on.” Webster’s incredulity is clearly toeing the line of frustration, but he doesn’t get it. “It’s just chicken pox.”

“Yeah, for her, because she’s ten.” Joe sweeps a hand towards Jane’s closed bedroom door — brightly decorated with drawings of Pokémon, sea creatures, and cartoon characters. Behind it, the poor kid’s laid up in bed, sheets thrown off because she’s too hot. Her dark curls are a tangled mess, since she couldn’t be bothered to tame them this morning; but they can’t quite hide the bright red rash steadily creeping up her neck. Joe was freaked out for a few minutes, before he recognized it. Once you’ve had chicken pox once, you never really forget those splotches, or the goddamn itch. “For her it’s just a little thing, sure. It’ll be over in a week. But in adults, it’s not so little.”

“Oh, come on —“

“Chicken pox is twenty-five times deadlier in adults.”

That shuts Webster up.

“I — you —“ He fumbles for words for a moment, the gears in his pretty little head apparently jammed up. “Have you —“

“Yeah, Web, I’ve had it before. Gave it to my whole family when I was six.” He rolls his eyes, before they catch on the plastic bag in Webster’s hand. Leaning across the room, he gets just close enough to pluck the bag from him, and immediately starts pawing around inside.

“Whatcha get, whatcha get... Tylenol, good.” He tosses it on the counter. “Children’s vitamins, weird, but okay — seriously, Web?” He holds up a shark plushie with unnervingly large, glittering eyes. 

“They were on sale,” is Webster’s only defense. “And Jane loves getting new toys when she’s sick!”

“Amazing you didn’t raise a spoiled brat.” Joe returns to the bag with a snort. Pulling out a pack of mango orange juice — the only thing Jane will drink when she’s sick, apparently — he finally lays out Webster’s haul on the counter. For a moment, he scrutinizes it, lips pursed. “You’re gonna have to go back,” he finally says. “She’ll need calamine, for the itching. You can find it in a bottle, or a little can that sprays... and who can you stay with ‘til this blows over? We could ask Lip, he’s got an extra room, or — could you call Hoob? Dukeman?”

“For god’s sake, Joe,” Webster groans, “I’m not going anywhere, just to leave you to take care of my sick kid!”

That actually bites. Joe goes still, words dying in his throat. His gaze stalls on the counter for a moment, intent, before he rounds on Webster. This is a conversation they’ve had before — many, many times before — and he didn’t think they’d need to have it again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demands, voice low instead of harsh. “You really think I mind it? You think when I moved in here with you guys, when I put that ring on my finger, I wasn’t signing up for this?” He pauses for a moment, drinking in the silence, before throwing his hands in the air. “Jesus, Web. Shit. If we’re still on that page —“

“Alright.” Webster, at least, looks appropriately shamefaced. In any other situation, this could easily spiral into an argument — not like they haven’t gone to war over dumber stuff — but now isn’t the time or place. He sighs, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. It just... feels wrong to leave you on your own.”

Jane’s not bad company at the best of times. Actually, Joe likes hanging out with her more than he does with her dad. At least Jane can put up a good fight in any video game — even the ones she’s technically not allowed to play — and she’s got enough stories to fill a library. Half of them, Joe suspects, she’s just making up off the top of her head, but Jane’s got an imagination like a firecracker. Her drawings are always brimming with color and life. When she brings them to her dad or Joe for inspection, she demands constructive criticism, and takes it seriously. Jane’s always busy — if she’s not drawing, she’s reading, and if she’s not reading, she’s writing, and if she’s not writing she’s caught in a very intense make-believe game in the backyard — but somehow she still finds time to spend with the adults.

It’s not like Joe doesn’t like Jane. It’s not like being around her is some burden or anything. Hell, he thinks he even loves her a bit — in a way he never imagined getting to love a kid of his own. He loves Webster, and Jane means the world to Web, so it’s simple as that.

And Web thinks he wouldn’t want to take care of Jane while she’s sick? Jesus.

“You kidding me? We’ll have a great time. Jane’s been trying to get me into Harry Potter, anyway, and you gotta show your kid Star Wars… I don’t trust you with the greats.” His topic shift is clearly a dismissal of the entire argument. Good old Web doesn’t get the hint.

“But you shouldn’t —“

“Fuck’s sake!” Joe exclaims — and if he wasn’t genuinely mad before, he is now. His tone lowers a second later, mindful of Jane in the other room, even if it’s hardly the first time she’s heard the two of them tear at each other. Instead, Joe settles for tossing the plastic bag on the ground, in blatant defiance of Web’s “pick things up” rule, and glaring at him. When Web gapes at him, incredulous, Joe just raises an eyebrow. Whatcha gonna do? Come over here and pick it up? It’s probably got chicken pox on it.

“You,” Joe says in a low voice, “are gonna let me do this for you. I’m gonna look after Janie. You are gonna go to the store and get some calamine, for shit’s sake, and then you’re gonna call up Hoobler and ask if he’s got a spare room. You can get whatever you need from our room, but I want you outta here, Web.”

Webster is silent for a moment, like he has to thoroughly chew his thoughts before saying them. His sigh, when it comes out, shakes a bit. “Joe…”

“Just let me take care of you,” he says again, and sees the exact moment Web breaks.

“What sort of lotion do we need again?”

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

Joe’s encountered Sick Web in the wild before. He’s a drama queen if they ever existed — clingy, listless, and depressive. If he can manipulate you into doing something for him, he will; if he needs to act sicker than he is, he’ll damn well do it. If he gets you sick, he’ll have no remorse. Flu season in their house still feels like a bad dream, one Joe prefers not to revist.

Sick Jane, in comparison, is a dream.

“It’s so nice not to be in bed,” she chirps, sounding downright cheerful as she balances a soup bowl in her lap. Joe keeps an eye on her — not just because she’ll be devastated if she spills on her octopus PJs, but because of the scratching. Jane’s a sneaky scratcher. Joe’s caught her doing it at least twenty times today, and no matter how much he hammers the point home that she won’t get better if she keeps scratching at the things, she doesn’t quite get it. There’s a patch of spots just under her chin that are really giving her trouble, but other than that, she’s holding out well.

“It’s only if you’re up for it, okay? You start feeling tired and it’s back to bed.”

Jane makes a face at him. Joe rolls his eyes and makes a face right back.

“So,” she says, having seized control of the remote. “What do you wanna watch now?”

“I dunno, the amount of movies we’ve watched this week —“

“You want to watch a cartoon? Some of the new Marvel ones are supposed to be good, I haven’t seen them.”

“Meh. We could. Ooh, how about Young Jus—“

He’s cut off by the sound of hammering — not at the door, but at the goddamn window.

Jane yelps as a splash of her soup hits the couch cushions; Joe nearly falls to the floor, scrambling for the first weapon he can find, which happens to be the remote. The curtains are half closed to the cool night, which means anyone outside could see in if they got close enough — and, as Joe approaches the windowpane, he can see a white hand pressed to the glass.

It clicks for Jane first. “Oh my gosh,” she gasps, leaping from the couch. “Daddy!”

Joe has to fight the urge to groan as Webster’s smiling face appears in the window. How many times is this, now — eight? Nine? It’s been almost a week since Web left, but he sure hasn’t let himself be forgotten. Every day, he stops by… either to see Jane and leave gifts, or to see him and leave gifts. Collectively, they’re now three books, two plushies, three video games, three DVDs, and a dozen snacks richer.

At the moment, though, Webster’s not carrying any bags. He doesn’t seem to have shown up with anything — just himself.

It’s also impossible to hear him through the window, but to Jane that doesn’t seem to matter.

“Hi, Daddy,” she says, pressing her hand to the outline of Web’s in the glass. “Are you okay? Are you staying safe? Look at my spots, these ones are starting to get scabs. Joe’s been making soup every night, I’m so tired of it — can you get me a fruit salad? I like the hammerhead you brought over—“

Heaving a soft sigh, Joe steps back, giving the two some space. Knowing Jane, she can go on for a while… and she’s missed her dad. Rather than intrude on the moment, Joe slips out the kitchen door, into the backyard. The night air is sweet, waking him up in all the places exhaustion was starting to weigh on him. He closes his eyes, tilting his head to bask in it. The temptation to light up a cigarette is strong, but he’ll never hear the end of it from Web if he found out, so Joe just sits in the steps, arms braced against his knees as he stares into the night.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, footsteps echo around the side of the house.

“Oh, scarecrow. I think I missed you most of all.”

Joe exhales, deep from his chest. “That why you’ve been coming around every day? Careful, Web. I’m gonna start thinking you’ve got a crush on me.”

“Now, more than ever,” Webster replies, and the sweetness in his voice takes Joe aback.

When Joe looks over, he finds Web standing with his hands in his pockets, silhouetted against the porch light. His expression is open, warm — and his eyes might be glittering a bit too, which, crissakes Web — vulnerable in a way that leaves Joe feeling unmasked.

These are not the sort of feelings Joe knows how to deal with. He shrugs, eager to shake them off.

“Hey, you know, you don’t come back soon and Jane and I might take over this place for ourselves. We’re thinking of putting in a movie theater… indoor swimming pool…” Web is still smiling at him, and it leaves Joe feeling a bit weak. The bravado in his voice slides away, tone gentling. “A few more days, yeah? You saw her. She’s doing great. As soon as those spots scab up, she’s all yours.”

“You’re doing a great job, Joe.” And, because Web can never resist making everything ridiculously sappy, “Thank you.”

Joe shrugs, and has to look away. “Next time you visit, bring a pizza or something, huh?”

“I do have something for you, actually. Jane, uhh — Jane told me to give it to you.”

“Yeah?” Interest piqued, Joe turns back. “What?”

Web isn’t smiling now. He actually looks a little mortified. Sterling himself, he shuffles his feet, clearing his throat. “I — okay, Jane told me, remember, she said I had to —“

“Web.”

At last, Webster cracks. He raises a hand to his lips, and — to Joe’s amazement — blows a massive kiss.

“Thank you,” is all Web says — and he doesn’t get upset, even when Joe almost falls over cackling.

Any time, Web, he thinks, gripping the porch railing for dear life. Any time.