#really fuckin great country no cap

[would-you-survive-in-australia]

but mod

would YOU survive in australia?

- an australian

Doing my best.

[universalistotalis]

Someday

Miya Osamu x Female Reader

Fluff fluff fluff to a little angst

Mention of Mommy Miya and Atsumu lol

2.9k words

Masterlist!!!

You wiped the sleep from your eyes as you were woken up by one of your family members who sat beside you on the bus. People queued in line to exit the vehicle that’s stopped in front of the airport and you can hear the soft chattering of the passengers as they lined up the aisle.

It feels sad really. To be leaving a country that you’ve explored for days on end, enjoying the culture, the view, the food, and all the little details in between. You wrapped the jacket more to your figure as the cold and the sadness crept into you. You welcomed the feelings though, because it meant that you had such a wonderful time that you didn’t want to let go.

Blinding lights made your eyes squint as all of you entered the gigantic airport. ‘Here we are’, you said to yourself. The busy goers walked and jogged past you here and there, some were loading heavy bags trolleys, some were panicking while looking at the schedule, and some were just chilling at the aligned chairs, sipping a cup of coffee.

“So, we’ll go check- in on our flight and we’ll go to the duty- free shop for souvenirs. All right?” You just nodded at their plan because they’ve been repeating that ever since you went out the hotel room where you stayed.

-

As you had hoped, the duty free shop was so full of things that you wanted. Just packed with all the goodies like the country's famous snacks, the foreign cosmetics that you adored, and even the cool relief patches that you tried and were so amazed at. Good thing you were given enough money to purge on what you wanted so you filled an entire basket! After all, you never know when you can come back to this country again.

“Excuse me.” Someone from behind you cleared his throat.

You were busy looking at the label of one of the beauty products from the shelf that you didn’t notice that you were blocking the narrow column.

“Oh sorry.” You apologized and scooted a little so that the person could pass. You turned to see the man and your whole body froze for a millisecond at the sight. The air felt electric all of the sudden as your gazes fixed on each other. He was the first one to look away and go on his way normally, as if not feeling the surge of adrenaline that you just felt.

“Damn, he’s beautiful.” You whispered. You swore you have never seen someone that beautiful in your entire life... EVER! And it wasn’t helping that his body was so built and tall and that his hair had this ombre gray color going on. No one’s supposed to look good with that hair color but why did he pull it off?! How?!

“Samu! I found your favorite cookies from yesterday!” An loud, excited voice made you jump from behind and you turned around in reflex. You saw the beautiful man earlier, standing at the end of the aisle and examining the pack in his hands while nodding. “I told you we could find it here! C’mon, let’s get more!” A tall blonde man next to him said while dragging him away.

You blinked, trying to process what you saw. Wow.

That’s it! Some people are just god’s favorites, aren’t they? You thought you were having issues with your vision but it was clear that there is not only one beautiful man. But TWO! He has a twin and good god, they were both so fit!

‘Does this store have a sale on these guys because I would like to purchase, please!’ You just chuckled at your crazy, thirsty thoughts and proceeded to checking out the things you bought.

-

They never left your mind. There were still five hours to spare before your flight but not once did they, especially he, stop running in your head! You scolded yourself one too many times this past hour because of the scenarios flooding in. There were date nights, traveling to different countries, petty fight scenes, cute nicknames, and all the sappy shit that couples do and say. You’re just hurting yourself really, and you had to stop!

The gods just wanted you to have a good one minute of your life and that’s it. You’ll never see him again!

You sighed and excused yourself to get a beverage that’ll quench your thirst from so much daydreaming. The nearest vending machine that you saw was at the other waiting area so you had to walk a little bit further. Your eyes were already set on the juice drink once you neared the machine.

“Hey, y/n!” You looked up questioningly as you saw your family waving and approaching you. “Let’s stay here a bit. People are beginning to flock there and I don’t like it. Besides, we can see if they’re already boarding from here.”

“Alright.” You agreed. “You want anything from the vendo?”

“Anything that you’ll have please.”

-

You sealed the top cap of the bottle mindlessly while staring blankly at the the vending machine. Your fingers were a little numb from the cold drink but you didn’t mind. You allowed yourself to be overly emotional at the thought of ending the vacation and of not having the boy you swore would be perfect for you. How could a single meeting that lasted for seconds affect you so much?! A small, sad chuckle left your lips because you knew you were so damn whipped but that didn’t really matter now.

-

“You’re so damn whipped, man! What, you’ve known her for like five seconds and now you think you’re in love with her?” Atsumu hissed, looking at his brother like he had grown two heads.

“Shut yer trap, Tsumu.” Osamu snapped out of his daydream once his brother’s voice penetrated the peaceful area.

“Then stop staring!” Atsumu laughed and shook his head. He took a glimpse of the person behind him to check the girl out and he had to admit, you were pretty even in your simple clothes.

“Hey.” Osamu called, a hint of warning laced in his deep voice.

“What, I wasn’t looking!" Atsumu dramatically puts his hand up in the air. "Stop being possessive of your five- second girlfriend, sheesh!” He teased more as he was met by the scowling face of his twin.

“I’m not in love with her.” Osamu scowled and folded his hands together like a toddler.

Atsumu was trying so hard not to laugh at his state and denial. “Look, Samu. We practically came from the same cell, you don’t have to lie to me. If it makes you feel better, we’ll reduce it to a crush. Now, how does that sound?”

Osamu rolled his eyes but he knew Tsumu was right. When he saw your eyes from the store, he felt a prickling sensation in his whole body that it shocked him a little. He swore all the hairs on his skin stood up at the encounter and that was the first time he ever felt that way! And what are the odds that you came to sit on their waiting area, giving him such a good view?

“Honestly, bro. You’re being creepy.” Osamu massaged the bridge of his nose in despair as his twin clicked his tongue in judgment.

“And you’re being annoying.” He countered.

“Cool down! Why don’t you go get us a drink then?” Atsumu smirked and challenged.

“Get your own damn dr—“

“That would be great, honey! Can you please get me water too? I’m getting a little thirsty from waiting.” They both whipped their heads at their mother who was smiling so sweetly and both melted at the sight.

“Okay.” They said in unison and got to their feet in a flash.

“‘Kay, here’s the plan.” Atsumu announced while acting like he’s warming up for a game.

“What plan? We’re just getting drinks?!” Osamu regarded him questioningly.

“We are just getting drinks but the vendo’s in front of your girlfriend, dummy!”

“Shit!” Osamu's eyes widened as he cursed. He hated that Atsumu was making sense. They do need a plan!

“It’s so hard to be the smart brother. I gotta do all the work!” Atsumu sighed dramatically earning himself another eye roll. “So, the plan is…” He paused for a while, trying to get his brother’s attention.

“What?! What do we do?” Osamu's patience was on thin ice and his frustrating brother is not helping one bit!

“Wow, you’re really trusting me on this, huh?” Atsumu stared at him in wonder. “Damn, what did that girl do to you?”

“God fuckin’ dammit, Tsumu, you’re wasting time!” Osamu strangled and shook him lightly. The other just laughed his ass off while trying to break free.

“Boys.” The warning tone and stoic gaze from their mother were enough to make their way to you. To the vending machine, that is…

“I’ll stay here, lover boy.” Atsumu patted Osamu’s back as they neared the destination which was just meters away from their seat.

“Wait, what? No—"

“Don’t be scared, you dummy. You can do it!” Blonde hair swayed in front of Osamu’s face as Atsumu danced a little cheering dance for him. “I’ll have cola, by the way. Now, go!”

Osamu tripped a little as his back was pushed but he didn’t seem to care as he was nearing your crouching form. You were just so damned focused on that phone that you didn't acknowledge his presence.

"Okay, we're just going to go through this like a normal person, Samu. No big deal." He whispered to himself.

“Y/n.” One of the persons beside you called. “I want the juice again pleaaaase.”

He saw your head perk up and was stunned when you laughed at their plea. “Alright, alright! Same flavor?”

Osamu didn’t realize that he was nearing the vending machine the same time as you were as he was so distracted by your charm. So your name was y/n and you had such a cute voice. And definitely a cute smile. Somehow, that was enough to make his imagination run wild!

It all happened so fast and you became aware of his presence a little too late. All you knew was that there was suddenly a looming figure on your left and you jumped in surprise, not meaning to.

“S-sorry.” He stuttered, a little surprised at your reaction too.

“No, no, it’s okay.” You smiled and bowed your head politely at him, praying to all the gods that he doesn’t see you blushing nor hear the heartbeat from your chest. “You go first.”

He blinked and looked down at you questioningly but he declined gently. “No, no. I can wait. Ladies first.” He gestured and stepped aside.

“Alright.” You smiled again.

Your mind was going a hundred miles per hour! You never thought that going to vending machine would be the hardest endeavor of your life! With hands shaking slightly, you inserted the coins until they reached the exact amount of the drink that you wanted and you pressed on the button that suddenly lit up.

A sense of dread flooded your being because that was it. After you press the button, you’re going to go back to your normal life. You were going to turn around and leave and never see that face again.

But as you stood there, you wondered why there wasn’t that familiar sound of the bottle dropping for you to claim?

“That’s weird.” You whispered and crinkled your nose. Your finger pressed the button again... and again, hoping that it result to something but to no avail.

“Is it broken?” His voice echoed the question in your head.

“I don’t think so.” You pouted a little. “I was able to get the same drink a while ago.”

Both of you just stared at it for it moment.

“Kick it.” He suggested, while putting his hands in both of his pockets and cooly transferring his weight on the right side.

“What?” You asked, horrified.

You were flashed with his laughing grin and crinkling eyes. “No harm in trying. C’mon!” He encouraged.

“If I get in trouble, you’re going down with me.” You warned but then you took him up on his challenge and kicked the bottom of the huge metal.

And truthfully so, the bottle dropped.

He crouched down and fetched the cold drink in his hand while still grinning like a fox. “Okay, I didn’t think you’d actually do it but here you go.” His voice was so heavenly to hear especially when it was still alight with humor. His eyes looked at you so sweetly that you were effectively just stuck there, under his spell.

“Thanks.” You chuckled and took what he was holding out. At the touch of your skin, the both of you jumped at the sudden and strong electricity that coursed through your veins. It was the same thing you both felt at the store but this time, it was stronger!

“Woah.” He said in awe. “I—"

You rubbed the back of your hand as if it stung and gazed up at him to take a good look. He had kind, brown eyes below his bushy eyebrows and thick, plump lips below his pointed nose. His cheeks were dusted pink which was cute. But his jawline contrasted as it was ready to cut your heart open. His gray hair was tousled too which matched his cool look and outfit of dark blue jeans, white shirt, and a leather jacket.

“T-thanks for this, again.” You stuttered. “I gotta go now.”

“N-no, wait.” He stuttered as well while instinctively pulling your sleeve by the hem. Another surge of lightning shot through you but you managed to smile back at him.

“Yeah?”

“W-what if it doesn’t work on me?” He said, sheepishly. “I need your kicks.”

For the first time since you met him, you started to relax so you let out a hearty laugh. “Okay, I’ll be right here.”

Osamu smiled gratefully at you before turning back and loading his coins. His ears rang at your words, ‘I’ll be right here’. He hoped you would be for a long time but that’s just wishful thinking.

One… Two… Three… Four…

“Wow, how many would you take?” Your amused voice made him grin again.

“It’s for the whole family.” He shrugged and crouched for the fourth time to get the drink. “This would be the last.”

“Good thing it didn’t break!” You said and again you were met by the awkward silence and him just staring. “Uhmm…”

“I’m Osamu, by the way.” He blurted out suddenly. “Miya Osamu.”

He tried his best to hold all the four drinks in one arm and extended one out to you.

“Oh… uhm…” Fuck.

“Uhm?” He laughed, still waiting for your introduction… desperate for it, really.

“Y/n L/n.” Warmth spread from your hands to your body as you held his and squeezed lightly. “It’s nice to meet you, Osamu.”

“Nice to meet you too.” He continued to shake your hand, not breaking eye contact. “Really nice.”

You laugh at the awkwardness but it seems like both of you don’t mind. You just want to prolong this interaction of yours and without you knowing, he was doing the same.

“Thank you for waiting. Flight QR 1008 is now accepting passengers on board.”

Osamu’s world crashed as the announcement continued. That was his cue to leave. He didn’t want to let your hand go so he tightened his grip more.

“That’s our flight.” He whispered and smiled sadly at you.

You nodded as your heart shattered in pieces. “Have a safe flight, Osamu. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Same here.” He replied, slowly letting go of your hand. “You take care and try not to break vending machines next time.”

A laugh bubbled inside your chest as he stepped back in agonizing slowness. “I’ll try.”

“Bye, y/n.” He waved and walked back to his brother who you saw patted him on the back.

“Do you know the guy?” You were asked when you went back to the seats.

“No, I just met him.” How you wish you knew him more.

“Well, he’s such a hunk, isn’t he?” They teased but you just laughed and shrugged it off.

You’re going to suffer this heartache for a while.

On the other end, Osamu carried his backpack over his shoulder, looking like he’s carrying the weight of the world.

“Hey.” Atsumu wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “You alright?”

“It’s gonna take a while.” He grumbled.

Atsumu nodded in understanding and tightened his grip on his brother for support. “It’ll be fine, Samu.”

And before they could enter the boarding gate leading to the plane, a surge of courage ran through Osamu’s body. All he knew was that he just had to do it or regret it forever. It's worth the risk!

“Hey y/n!” He shouted, jogging his way to you when they neared the entrance doors.

You were stunned at the mere mention of your name from a baritone voice. The grip of two hands followed and they were heavy on your shoulders.

“Let’s meet again, yeah?” Osamu asked you, full of hope in his eyes. “Someday.”

You nodded your head and smiled. You love that idea. “Someday.”

With that, he waved his final good bye, bowed at your family, and left.

All was well but you never saw each other again.

---

Masterlist!!! Read more here hehehe

I actually enjoyed writing this so much hahaha I'm in love with the twin's tandem and their constant witty comebacks and bickering! I also miss going to airports and travelling and spotting eye candies outside... TAKE ME OUT OF THIS HOUSE PLEASE!

Anw, Hope you're all doing great. Stay safe!

Reblogs are appreciated! <3

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Seven

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

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

Part 7 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; strong language; canon-level violence (explosions); mentions of alcohol poisoning; mention of Infinity War/Endgame deaths; perceived domestic partner abuse (no such thing actually happens!); concussions and minor injuries; mentions of arranged marriages; mentions of drug smuggling and human smuggling; lying; ANGST!

Word Count: 14,100+

A/N: So close to the finish line...

~

Spain, 2024, 5:07 pm.

    “Get the damn ice cream, Peter. I’m not holding you back.”

The kid sped down the sidewalk as fast as his feet would let him, skips in his steps and ignoring the chastising yells from Bucky. 

“You’re letting him have sugar?” Bucky whines, sluggish in his own steps. The Spanish summer sun was blaring, burning your forehead and building the same cold craving in your throat. It was just the three of you, carefree but melting, happy but annoyed with the constant proximity of each other. The villa (if you could call it that, it was more of a cottage) was listed as having three rooms - not the two you were stuck with. Bucky was at the last inch of self-control, begging you to switch with him - if only for one night - because ‘the kid fuckin’ talks in his sleep, doll! One more night and I might smother him.’

It was Bucky’s idea to take a little vacation. A year after the blip and only a few months after Peter’s world was turned upside down, a vacation seemed like the best choice. Preferably somewhere that was quiet and somewhat rural - somewhere you guys won’t be easily recognized. 

So the three of you packed and flew across the pond. In all honesty, you hadn’t even told the rest of the team where you were going besides Wanda. One day you were greeting them in the common room and preparing lunch, the other you were throwing your suitcase in one of the two vacant rooms in this little Spanish cottage. The three of you were truly off the map in terms of late notice. 

“Let the kid live. He’s having a mid-life crisis at eighteen.”

“I’ve had more mid-life crisis’s than his age combined. He’s not special.” The pointed look on your face had Bucky sighing in small defeat. “Okay, okay.”

These past two weeks in shared solitude, even if this trip was supposed to be relaxing, was beginning to melt into a tiresome routine. Well, just nights. The days were mild at best. And to make matters worse, you and Bucky had been dodging the team’s calls, messages that you left for voicemail. Bucky had clicked ‘end call’ more times than he could count and his excuse was always, ‘ the kid doesn’t want to leave, doll.’ Even annoyed with Peter, Bucky wanted only the best. 

It was only a matter of time until your phones were tracked and you were forced to come home. Everyone probably knew where you were anyway - you weren’t exactly hiding. But since you already got a good two weeks in, you figured they had taken some sympathy. 

“Think we can get him to visit a museum today or something?”

Bucky shrugged, lining up at the coffee stand near the ice cream cart. “Saw him checking out banana bread recipes last night. Seems more like a baking day.”

You could go for some banana bread. Ordering two iced coffees and making more miscellaneous small talk while waiting for Peter to order, you studied the streets of Spain. The country had suffered greatly when, cruelly, more than half their population disappeared. Left in proper ruins, no one believed it would ever recover. But then there was an election, a change in the structural government, and it just… did. They rebuilt themselves better than any country had, in your opinion. 

It was a rather calm day with minimal people out and about. It was exactly what you guys deserved after every mission - in your case, after a long month of PR recovery after that bar fight alongside Sam. 

“You bake, Barnes?”

He smiled fully, “Any chance I get.”

“You guys want anything?” Peter yelled out, bouncing lightly on his heels as he waited. You waved him off. “You sure? It’s pretty cheap for summer prices!”

After rejecting Peter’s dozen ice cream questions and offers, the three of you decided the heat was a little too much to bear, even with sunscreen. Peter spoke most of the way. Something about that banana bread.

Bucky, being the baker, helped him choose the best recipe of the four Peter had bookmarked and soon the kitchen was only half dirty with eggs and mashed bananas.

“What do you mean a cup of baking soda, kid? Use your eyes,” Bucky yelled in second hand embarrassment. “I don’t think a cup of baking soda goes in anything.”

“Read right here, dude,” Peter poked at his tablet. “A cuuuu... okay. Okay, I see what I read wrong.”

“You two better be making me some good ass banana bread today. I don’t want to throw up!” You had opted to let the two men have their fun in the kitchen. You tried to bake, but you were more of a cook than anything else.

“You could be reading out the directions.”

“I could do a lot of things,” you respond with the emphasis on “could”.

The doorbell interrupted your no-so-real argument. Peter snickered, “You could get the door.”

With a displeased grunt and a straightened middle finger to the kid, you opened the door to find two people who were definitely not invited. Clint, with this magical and massive smile on his face and Steve, with his eyebrow cocked and arms crossed.

“Oh, would you look at that. Guests! Welcome to our humble abode!”

“Now, how and why?” Bucky groaned. But his actions contradict his words as he went to give Steve a hug, covered in flour and all.

“Hey, Clint,” you mumbled, purposely ignoring the super soldier side-eyeing you. “Care to tell us what you’re doing here?

Clint returned your warm smile, “See, Cap? They’re safe. Can we go now?”

Steve rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest in a rather demanding way. “We’re here to take them home, Clint.”

Bucky scoffs.

“Eh, you might be. But I’m here to soak up some of this Spanish sun.” A low grunt sounded in the back of Clint’s throat as he spoke. He was already making his way to pick at the mashed ingredients. 

“You heard the man, pal,” Bucky slaps Steve’s shoulder, leaving him at the door as well. Awkwardly left alone, you blow a small raspberry and step aside to let Steve in. Bucky continues, “We’re here to soak up some sun. And I’m not done soakin’.”

With great protest, Steve maneuvers Bucky away from the kitchen and into the hallway beside the master bedroom. With both super soldiers out of the way, you finally go to help Peter with mixing. “Why did he come, really?”

Clint shrugs, arms deep inside your cabinets and collecting whatever desserts you had pre-packaged. “Honestly? I think he missed you guys.”

“All this drama because he misses Bucky? He could have just shown up declaring truce and had a nice little vacation,” you mumbled, glaring at Steve from behind. 

“Think he felt like he needed an excuse to even show up. But they really are asking for you guys back home. Threatened to arrest your ass.”

“Lucky me.”

You could make out snippets of their tiny argument up ahead. 

‘You could have called.’

‘You haven’t been answering the phone, Buck.’

‘I’ve been relaxing.’

A heavy sigh. 

‘I just thought we told each other everything.’

‘Believe it or not, Steve… but I’ve got more friends now. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’m not trying to ignore you, I - I just needed to help another friend out this time.’

Peter, with great care, washes his hands and makes sure there aren't any random mashes of banana on his clothing before he side-steps you and Clint to interrupt the very ‘private’ conversation between the super soldiers. “Hey, Mr. Steve- Cap, hey.”

Steve immediately lets his hard gaze falter. “Hey, kid. You doin’ good?”

Peter nods in response. 

“He’s doing great! Much needed vacation that still isn’t over.”

“Buck.”

Inserting yourself may not have been the best option. “Give it up, Rogers. We’re on vacation. And until the kid says he’s ready to go home, we go home.”

Peter fumbles, “Oh, please don’t put me on the spot like that. I’m not good with confrontation.”

Bucky quickly answers before Steve can, “It’s not confrontation, Peter. We love being out here and if it’s helping your mental health, we’re not going to take that away from you.”

Steve blinks and his expression looks like one of hurt. “You think I wanna do that? The literal president has been asking for your location. You’re not allowed to leave the country.”

You shrug, “Well, no one told me that.”

“Buck, you were just granted immunity three months ago. And you go and drop off the face of the earth?”

“I’m literally in Spain.”

Steve blinks again. He really can’t believe he’s got to deal with two people with similar personalities. “Your point?”

“On Earth…?”

Clint decides to make his presence known. He has even inserted the poured batter into the glass tray for you guys. “Why don’t we just stay with ‘em, Cap? God knows you need a vacation, too.”

“We have two rooms. You’d be bunking on the floor,” you say, pointing to random areas on the floor.

Clint waves his hand in the air, “Not the worst place I’ve slept in.”

“I’m being hounded day and night to bring you three home.” Steve looks about ready to burst into tears of frustration.

“Turn off your phone?”

Steve whips his head and stomps to close the few feet of distance between the two of you. “You really think it’s that easy? You really think I wasn’t worried when my two best friends just disappeared one night and didn’t tell me?”

Two.

Best. 

Friends. 

Before you could even comment, Bucky puts on the dramatics.  “We ran away together, Stevie. We meant to tell you.”

Steve takes a moment, just staring at the ceiling and piecing together his thoughts. “Joke all you want, Buck. I’m bringing you home.”

“Ste-”

“No!” He’s stomping back to the front door now. “I’ve had enough! I can’t stand not knowing where you guys are all day when bad things keep happening in this world. Just… just come home.”

All is quiet besides the quiet munching of Clint and his rogue cookie. Steve’s face did this thing when he was at war with himself, anxiety crawling up his arms or panic weighing his empty stomach down. His face drained color and that perfect renaissance oil lost its blush, blended paint that turned a murky gray. A masterpiece lost in storage.

“I can take the couch,” you whisper, arms erupting in goosebumps. “You guys can stay the night and we’ll go home tomorrow, okay? Or somewhere pre-approved, I guess.”

Bucky didn’t argue. Neither did Peter. 

Steve's imaginary painter adds the softest pink back to Steve’s cheeks as you compile a mess of blankets and pillows for him.

Present Day, 2025, 7:15 am

     There’s a warmth near you as you begin to lazily shuffle against the sheets, heavy on your chest but comfortable all in all. 

There are no worries, no sudden bursts of Avenger business, no fights needing to be fought. Simply Steve warm against you with sunlight draping over his bare and freckled shoulders. 

The serum enhanced for the sole purpose of strength and survival. And sure, it healed the body quicker than the average human body could naturally, but the one thing it couldn’t do was strip personality. 

Steve had freckles splattered along his broad shoulders and down to in between his shoulder blades, light in color and all similar in size. Something a lot of people hated about themselves and tried to cover up while others tried to mimic. The serum was supposed to heal damaged skin, sunburnt areas, birthmarks, and even moles - at least, that’s what the official 1943 report had claimed. 

But over the years, Steve had continued to age and grow into his new body. And while he couldn’t get dangerously sick anymore, anything unknown could still occur. No one had the same serum as Steve and last Tony had heard, Peggy had spilled the last remnants of Steve’s original DNA (blood they took before the procedure) in the Hudson. Bucky seemed to be experiencing the same natural changes as well. 

It had been proven that neither Steve nor Bucky could carry or transmit diseases, experience abnormal cell production, nor could they develop a lifelong ailment without severe reason. 

So imagine everyone’s surprise when Clint called one morning while deep in a routine mission (somewhere in Africa, you really don’t remember) to relay the news that, ‘you guys aren’t gonna fucking believe this - yeah Rogers, I’m telling them the hilarious news right now - Steve’s appendix just up and exploded last night - hey! He just stole - hold on. Give me back my hearing aid, you abelist fuck!’. 

Steve had stretch marks on his back from the procedure, his elbow still hurt from time to time after he had snapped it a year ago, and the white scar above his right hip reminded him that even super soldiers are not exempt from the wonders of the appendix. 

His breathing was slow and his eyelids flickered. Seemed he was enjoying his first deep sleep in a while. You craned your neck to try and read the cable box across the room, slightly making out a seven in the front before you gave up. You were due for your annual eye appointment, anyway. 

Steve did have perfect eyesight though, so damn him.

You shrugged the sheets from your arms. He was on his stomach, cheek planted on your chest and right foot dangling off the side of the bed. His left arm was draped over your middle and his right was tucked inside a pillowcase. His hair draped over his forehead and some of it was still tucked behind his ears. 

Careful to not wake him, you gently traced the ridge of his nose with your index finger, resting it on the tip that always turned bright pink regardless of mood. Once at the end, you went back up to trace it again. 

“Beak,” you whispered more to yourself, and you bit your lip to suppress the overwhelming urge to giggle. 

Steve was here, next to and near you, and he was so warm. 

You could have stayed in bed for hours, sleeping and cuddling and fucking, and you would bet your left kidney that Steve wanted that too. It was impossible to question it, it had to be, because Steve was too genuine. You had met hundreds of men in your life: some the literal devil, some cowards, some reserved, and rarely, some genuine at heart. Steve fit some category that didn’t even exist. 

You wanted to love him and hate him. You wanted to make love and fuck him. You wanted to kiss him and annoy him. He checked a box that didn’t exist but that you would just have to reserve for him. The annoying little shit who could lift Thor’s hammer. 

The door almost ripped off its hinges by the brute force of someone’s leg. You didn’t even fully register being crushed by Steve until his elbow stabbed you right in the gut. 

“Rogers!” you groaned in pain and half trying to reach for your pistol on the bedside table. 

There was a collective gasp of surprise (and maybe terror) from the people that just broke down your door. After yesterday’s unplanned run-in with Ramirez, no doubt this was called-for.

“Oh, hell…” Sam grumbled, lowering his gun the second he realized two of his friends were sharing one bed. “Lemme guess, the other bed’s mattress was too firm but this one’s just right.”

Bucky stood behind him, a knowing smirk plastered on his smug face. He looked between you and Steve, ignoring the way Scott was practically pulling his shoulder down in pure fits of laughter. Didn’t take much for Scott to tip himself over and almost drag Bucky down with him. 

“Couldn’t you knock?” Steve nearly yelled, body still trying to shield yours even though you were fully dressed. You were struggling to push him away in pure embarrassment, but he seemed intent with this form of protection. 

“You weren’t answering your phone! We changed our check-in times to seven instead of eight, remember?”

Steve, ever the gentleman, brought the sheets up higher for you and finally lifted himself out of bed. 

And Bucky, ever the gentleman who has been spending way too much time with Clint, nodded his head toward you. “You two fuck?”

Mouth dropping in humiliation, you pulled the sheets up over your head and screamed into the temporary cover. Steve sputtered over whatever explanation he was thinking of pulling out of his ass. 

“You two fucked,” Bucky smugly confirmed. 

Steve pulled on the nearest shirt and went to kick Scott, who was ‘criss-cross apple-sauced’ on the floor and laughing way too loudly. “Is it really any of your business?”

“Man, that’s an answer!” Sam was about to fall into the same fit as Scott. 

Annoyed, and fueled by that annoyance, you ripped the sheets off and marched for the bathroom. “You really want to know, you nosy little fucks? We did fuck and he made me come three times. Ask him how, I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two, no matter how embarrassed he may seem right now.”

You left him alone. You literally just exposed him and you left him alone with the wolves. 

All was quiet until Sam blew a small raspberry. “Three times?”

     Bucky didn’t need to speak to show he was about to tease the hell out of you. He simply sipped his coffee until he emptied it, and then refilled it. You couldn’t even finish a single mug yet because you were waiting to break the tension. 

Looking around the hotel bar because he still valued your privacy, Bucky made sure to keep his voice low. “Three times?”

Half wanting to slap the smirk off his face and the other half wanting to announce Steve’s naughty accomplishment, you settled for pouring more coffee into your mug. 

“Don’t you dare hold what I said against me, I literally had just woken up.”

“Mm, yeah. I remember how you literally moaned Thor’s name when you were startled awake from a nap in the living room.”

“Bucky!” you yelled, turning your shoulders inwards when you received a few odd looks from other early risers. Well, some were early risers. The person closest to the door was an agent, as was the other eating breakfast at the bar. “You promised you would never mention that again!”

He shook his head with amusement, “I can’t believe you swore me to secrecy when Loki basically told everyone.”

“He-!” Choking on your own spit, you slid lower into your booth. “That mischievous, conniving, son of a bitch.”

“In all honesty, I think that was his way of flirting with you.”

“Telling everyone I had a wet dream about his brother?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be the first.”

You smirked, “Oh, trust me. I know.”

Bucky squinted, guilty in his spoken words. “All I’m saying is, it’s nice that you didn’t just write Steve off with us, as if nothing happened.”

It made your heart swell that even in a moment with you, Bucky would still always protect Steve. 

“I would never. We actually talked last night and he really apologized.”

“Really?” His eyes were hopeful. 

“He did. And as cliche as it sounds, one thing led to another.”

You realized your earlier words were contradictory when Bucky sighed sadly, “This better not have been a one time thing. I’ll strangle you both.”

You scoffed and finally took a piece of that blueberry muffin on your plate. “Screw you, Barnes. It’s Steve we’re talking about. I’d give him the world if I could.”

That made Bucky blush. “God, I’m stupidly happy for him. I always said he’d need to find a dame who had as big of a mouth as he does.”

Rolling your eyes, you offered him some of that muffin. He gladly broke off a piece. “Don’t go marrying us off just yet.”

“Doll, he almost imploded when we discovered you slept together. Teasing him about proposing might just kill him.”

You laughed at that. Although Steve had admitted he regretted the time you lost, there wasn’t any chance he would push you any further. He was probably comfortable with taking things slow, no matter the history. You had that in common. 

“Seems we’re all just gonna have to make sure we don’t cause his demise.”

Smiling as he chewed, Bucky played with your feet under the table. Safe moments like these always occurred before a mission, no matter how simple or heavy they were. And like people love to say, you never fought with each other before. Just in case. 

Going to bed angry was another thing entirely. That, the whole team was proficient in. 

“You ready for tonight?”

Yesterday had definitely turned you against the very concept of family reunions, what with the small ache between your shoulders. You were angry with Seda, with Ernesto, disappointed with Ramirez, and neutral toward your sister. 

God, your sister. This would be the first time since you left Mexico for school and SHIELD that you would be seeing her, as well as your other siblings. Jackeline was perhaps the only sibling you had some real memories with. Everyone else was already deep in the business or far away from the chaos. The team only knew of two other siblings who rsvp’d. The others: radio silence. 

“Part of me just wants a normal family wedding. I’m kinda hoping we can just end it all tonight.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bucky chuckled, finishing off your muffin for you. “You’ll get some closure soon enough.”

There was no such thing as closure. Just less of a constant sting. 

“Bucky,” you spoke seriously now. “My father made Steve sign something yesterday.”

“He told us at the debrief yesterday.”

“When did you have a debrief?”

Bucky scooted in his booth, quickly explaining. “Uh well, it wasn’t so much of a debrief as it was a simple overview. Just a heads up.”

You tilted your head, somewhat unconvinced. “Uh-huh… but we could void it, right? He had a fucking notary there and everything.”

“We can declare it void, yeah Y/N,” he grabbed your hand over the table. “He won’t get tangled in this.”

With a heavy sigh, you gripped Bucky’s hand tighter. “I’m really glad you guys are gonna help us.”

He returned your smile. “Anything for family.”

Family. 

After all these years of self-hatred and despising your own blood, you blinded yourself of the simple truth that you already had a real family. Whether you were accepted after Sokovia, or after you helped Steve escape with Bucky, or after those long five years, you were accepted. And you accepted them right back. 

    The briefing goes as expected. Didn’t seem like anyone was going to live down the now obvious fact that you and Steve had slept together after years of unnoticed pining. You simply took the teasing in stride, better than Steve even, who stuffed his face full of chips in embarrassment.

The plan was simple but ever-evolving. The three of them will hang back: Bucky at the hotel, Scott and Sam at the nearby base with Torres. The base was fifteen minutes from the estate, hidden behind those same pine trees but the perfect cover - it was a nearby diner. Steve will still take the shield, FRIDAY was installed on your personal phones, and any weapons you attached to your person were specifically made to deter metal detectors. Once in, it was mingle, mingle, mingle.

There were going to be a thousand questions to answer: What in the world is Captain America doing here? Is he here to cause trouble? Are you two seriously dating? So, Captain America being one of us means holding Thor’s hammer was a myth, aye?

Then you would move on to the more important guests. Jackeline’s greeting would be more of a reunion. But flying under and over the radar had to walk the same line - you needed to mix in with the crowd and make sure they see you participating, but then escape for a little while to continue the mission.

Once in, the task was to electronically and physically retrieve everything Scott didn’t have time to yesterday, plus the new information Ernesto got for today and tomorrow. His latest emails, list of contacts, checks, birth certificates, video evidence.

“Do we all know our duties?”

You wanted to wrap up Steve’s commanding voice and keep it a special secret, a secret that was yours and the team’s to share.

“We got it, Cap. For the tenth time this week - you two okay?”

Sam was rewarded with a slanted smile. “Everytime you ask me that, I’ll lie.”

He nods, “At least you admit it. You’re not alone in this.”

“For years,” you continued, “It’s been that way. I guess I’m both ready for it to end and not. I want them behind bars. I don’t want the repercussions.”

“Makes sense,” Bucky agrees. “At least part of the fight will be over.”

Beside you, Steve clenches his jaw. “We’re always fighting.”

Bucky grins at him, “Yeah.” There’s a sparkle in his eye as he leans forward to squeeze Steve’s thigh. “At least it’s not with each other anymore.”

     They weren’t lying when they said vibranium was lightweight. Felt different from nano-tech and was an obvious change from your regular body suit. You felt protected and stylish. Good, because even though you weren’t obligated to impress those vultures, there were still a few cousins and extended family members you wanted compliments from. And?

The black turtleneck was warmer than you expected and didn’t strangle you. You were a bundle of velvet bliss right now. The cuffs were a golden brown, completely made from vibranium. Modeling in the mirror, you whispered a few ‘pew-pew’s as you blocked pretend bullets. C’mon, golden bracelets? You were basically Wonder Woman. 

The tights were your own, thin and black and you could still see there were faint bruises on your knees from training. Once all that was situated, you pulled on the long skirt and tucked in the bottom of your shirt, glad the way the high-waisted design sucked everything in. The skirt was the same golden brown as the cuffs, shorter in the front and wavy as it draped down the back, barely reaching your ankles. You tied the skirt’s belt in a tight bow and pulled on the black boots Shuri had also sent you. The heel was thick and short, and the boot was pretty tight around the top of your ankle. 

Time was ticking on that well-deserved goody basket you were meaning to send to the royal siblings. 

Hoop earrings, three rings dressing your left hand, a simple golden necklace - now you need to do your hair and make-up. 

Steve was just patiently waiting for his turn in the bathroom, bless his heart. 

     “Scott said the files are in his personal belongings. We suspect he’s planning to smuggle over fifty people tomorrow. Their records should be hidden away in those belongings, too.” 

Sam always kept a leveled head in dire situations like these. He was rational and helpful, always waited until the job was done and everyone was safe before he had a drink or a cry. It was safest, perhaps the most fair thing the Avengers could do for the public after destroying half the cities they fought in. The media didn’t need to know about the late-night fights, alcohol poisoning, or frequent therapy sessions. Your coping methods were all different - Steve has no doubt Sam will immediately pack an overnight bag and Bucky to visit his sister and nephews once the wedding concluded. 

Steve? Well, Steve was surprisingly calm, all things considered. 

“You get any hits yet? Anything from Ramirez that could help us find those people sooner?”

Sam sighs sadly, shaking his head. “It’s looking like we’re heading into a full-on fight.”

That’s not what Steve wanted to hear. A ‘full-on’ fight almost always had accidents, misfires, innocent casualties, and a few cuts and scrapes to add to his own personal collection. 

“Sam,” Steve puts down the files in his hand and shuts off his monitor to signal he’s done researching for the night. “I really don’t know how to thank you.”

“You know,” Sam smiles at him, “I’m gettin’ real tired hearin’ you say that.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. Sam gently exhales - Steve can feel it. 

“You two really are the same.” Sam points at Steve and to the bathroom door. “Always apologizing for shit you can’t control.”

Steve looks down to his feet, a blush in his pale cheeks. After failing to clip his cufflinks on his own, he holds his arms out to Sam who happily clips them for him. 

“Is it real?”

Steve pauses. He doesn’t really need to think about it because he knows. He’s known for a while even if he was on autopilot. The pause only serves to help him catch his breath from the happy prickle that crawls up his spine. “As real as second chances go.”

Sam laughs and claps his shoulder, “I get it. We seem to get a hell of a lotta those.”

      Now that the mission was truly kicking into gear, fucking full speed ahead, Steve had no other choice but to pull shreds of Captain America from that metaphorical attic of his. Took everything in him to revert back, never fully, and each time would be different from the last. Sometimes it was mentally draining being responsible for a whole team and creating the plans, other times he regretfully felt like a colonizer, an intruder who followed orders from the top and was forced to execute them. This time around, he was stepping into uncharted territory, but still familiar, and he had a million roles to mime. 

“Steeeve.”

His smile was instant and he gravitated to your voice. “Hmm?”

“So, I have an idea for a hairstyle,” you reply, throwing open the bathroom door with a brush in one hand and the other holding the top layers of your hair up. “I got enough hair for it.”

“Tell me about it. It gets in the way of everything.”

“Haha.” You rolled your eyes, still trying to shovel more hair higher. “I curled it, so all I gotta do is tug this upper half up into a ponytail while the rest stays down. But can you help? My shoulders still hurt and I haven’t taken my advil yet.”

Steve shuffles back into the room to grab you two pills before he replaces his hands with yours. “So, just lift it up?”

You hum confirmation, watching Steve in the mirror as he pulled your thick curls higher, snapped the hair tie between his teeth, and tied it all. He pulled the strands outward so the high curls still fell around your face. The hairstyle would have been easier with extensions (for a much fuller look) but if you had to throw your body around these next two days, you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of having them pulled off. 

“Thank you,” you blush. These moments were so intimate, so sweet, just you and Steve. “You need any help?”

Steve looks down at himself. He had already tied his own tie. He could style his own hair and comb his beard. “I think I’m good. Forgot to pack cologne, though.”

“I’ve got some perfume in my suitcase. There should be one in there that isn’t too flowery.”

Steve rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Not really a problem, doll.”

Pulling on his suit jacket and reaching for your suitcase to set it on the bed, he miscalculated the balance he was so obviously lacking. Instead of toppling head first himself, he fumbles your suitcase and spills its contents on your bed. He stills for a second, looking to the closed bathroom door to see if you popped your head through to ask what the hell that sound was. But it remained closed, and Steve silently groaned because of his clumsiness. 

He tries his best to roll the clothing items back in, cursing whenever he would accidentally squeeze a perfume bottle you had hidden in there. He counted three. The one he picks smells like roses.

Amongst the ruins he finds your passport, multiple IDs, and two pairs of sunglasses. He chuckles to himself and thinks, we’ve been here for four days and she hasn’t worn these once.

A torn piece of paper stood out from the pile, folded neatly in its own envelope but still damaged. 

     CLINT

Curious, Steve opens the envelope, wholeheartedly expecting to find the written contents from the archer himself, but pauses when he reads the simple sentence, in your handwriting. 

‘After careful deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that I want you to have all my video games.’

If Steve didn’t know any better, and judging by the multiple other letters peeking through the torn tape from the corner of your suitcase, it sounded like a goodbye letter.

“What’s taking so long?”

Startled, Steve shoves the letter under the pile of clothes. “Uh, my clumsy ass spilled your clothes everywhere so I’m being good and fixing everything.”

“...annoying.”

Still, you stayed inside the bathroom.

He glanced back just to make sure. And he knew he shouldn’t be snooping, the guilt was already eating away at him, but he now noticed the lump under the torn tape and another envelope poking through. 

They were all signed for different people. Bucky, Wanda, Peter, Rhodey - 

The devil on his shoulder drowned the cries of the angel. 

Opening his, he prays for his quick reading skills to aid him before you realized what he was doing.       

Steve, 

     Believe when I say that I thought I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…

I don’t really know why I’m writing these letters besides the thrill of morbidity for my untimely death or because I’m an amateur writer on the side. I never know what to say to you, anyway. Whether it’s in person or on paper. I’ve got a hundred drawn-up speeches in my head I almost say to you. But they don’t come out when I want them to and it seems a bit much to write out the words to several imaginary crumpled pieces of paper. 

This will have to do. 

Steve, I know for a fact, deep in whatever soul I have left, that you are a good man. 

When the world fell apart, I held on to you. I don’t know why. Natasha bugged me about it, sent me those signature smirks of hers whenever we did anything remotely weird. She believed something was going on between us and I would get so angry with her because it was like she saw something I couldn’t. And I wanted to see it. Wrap it up for myself and live in the softness.

You slept by my side when I would ask, you let me look through your private sketchbook to help ease my mind, and you would jump at every chance to shield me from danger. Even when you know I can take care of myself. I don't know how many times I have to remind you. 

I don’t understand why you shut me out after we brought our friends back. And at the time, it hurt like hell. I literally wanted to kill you and then myself. It made no sense, it still doesn’t. I won’t lie and say it still surprises me or that it no longer hurts. ‘Cause I’m numb to it now and the pain is more of a dull ache. 

But I guess you had your reasons, no matter how hurtful, how ridiculous, no matter how stupid. 

Fuck, why didn’t you get some of that life Tony had always wanted for you? The question eats me alive. Maybe you did move on, maybe you would miss us too much, I truly don’t know. When you confessed to wanting some form of that life when we rescued Wanda, it just confused me more.

Then my father basically declared war and you cut me out. I can’t help but think you stayed behind to help me finish this, what with that righteous streak of yours, but if it is the case, then I am so sorry. 

You deserve to live, Steve. 

Guess what I really want to close with is this: find that life you always wanted. Buy a boat, or a cabin in the secluded woods and become a lumberjack, travel, open your own art museum - hell, erase all traces of your identity and sell painted landscapes for a living. 

In any form you find it, just try. You know I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be. 

There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you. 

With as much love in me, 

    The swirl of your name leaves him disoriented, and slightly paralyzed. Steve licks the envelope closed.    

     Steve puts the very existence and contents of your letter to the back of his mind for the time being. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, no time to dissect it word for word. He’ll focus on it later. He still doesn’t know what reaction he should be experiencing. The letter was unexpected, yes, but it’s the matter of you writing a goodbye letter - as if you weren’t going to make it out of here alive. And that about saws Steve in two. 

Steve thinks the elevator comes too fast and wonders what he could do to stop time. The mics on your neck generate enough noise for you to hear the static on the other end. No one is currently online, and Steve cherishes the little moments he’s getting before having to transition into ‘Captain America’ mode. 

There wasn’t much time today to truly bask in the afterglow. The moment the elevator opens Steve literally drags you inside and captures your lips in a rather chaste kiss. It surprises you momentarily but you’re responding, and it’s fluid and familiar. The kiss is brief, but it feels as if your years mold into this single act, and Steve’s smiling wider than he has today when the first thing you say as you part is that maybe you chose the wrong shade of lipstick because it looks too damn dark on his lips.

The elevator reaches the ground floor and he looks over at you one last time in the privacy you’re afforded. He’s got that good ache in his chest again and it’s both calming and a little bittersweet, because staring at you is like staring at the sun - it hurts to look at for a long time but oh, so tempting. 

   The lawn was separated into two halves with only one fully decorated and the other still under a tarp, hidden because it was mid-construction and to not spoil the surprise. Over to the side, just left of the large lake, there was an extra tarp the workers were manning in case the clouds in the sky decided to cry. 

Jackeline had chosen violet as her main color scheme, with golden hues stitched alongside. The flowers, soft lights, marble floor, and desserts were all violet; the curtains and tarps, plates and glasses, flowers on the wall, and Jackeline’s rehearsal dress were all gold. Ernesto must have spent over a million dollars in the decorations alone. 

Everyone donned their best designers and since only family was in attendance today, the little amount of people were easily outdone one right after the other. In total, there were fifteen guests, and that included you and Steve: Ernesto, Seda, the groom’s father, Jackeline’s mother, two of your half-brothers, three aunts (sister’s of Ernesto), two cousins, the maid of honor, and Marcus White. 

They have already fawned over Steve, some with a major guard up as expected, but as Ernesto explains the specifics, everyone becomes more pleased than weary. ‘It was just too good to be true that the Avengers were all good’, someone announces. Steve grips your hand just a little tighter. 

The mere absence of Ramirez was enough of an answer: he really was going to be eliminated.

Across from your private corner, cheers and claps sound as the happy couple finally emerges. Even your father leaves mid-conversation to go greet her. 

She’s a fifties masterpiece. Her dark hair cascades in uneven but gentle layers, framing her face and she’s both glossy and matte. Her skin is darker and her eyebrows are fuller, widow’ peak and strong jaw, thin neck and perfectly rounded shoulders. She has a painted blush on her high cheekbones, dark eyeshadow and a faint cat eye, and the reddest, fullest lips that are already spitting wit as she greets her more serious guests. Her voice is high but steady and she’s so obviously the center of attention, she’s the literal bride, but you bet she could take over the room even if she wasn’t. Her fiancé, surprisingly enough, trails behind her as if he too is in a trance, greeting the same guests and attempting to match her enthusiasm. She’s making herself known, and she’s succeeding.

It isn’t until she locks her sight on you that Steve finally mumbles a quiet ‘woah’ underneath a shaky breath and you can’t blame him, dear god you can’t, because seeing her for the first time in six years is eating away at you. She’s nineteen, young and sweet, and still trapped in the world you were planning to destroy.   

Her first reaction is to run into your arms and hold you tightly, the force swinging you from side to side. Her giggles are contagious and you find yourself reacting similarly, grip tightening as she begins to ramble about how much she missed you and how proud she is that you have saved the world ten times over. The statement is overwhelming, but you find yourself nodding along in place of anything verbal.

Steve is patient as he witnesses this family reunion, standing at your side with respect and a tint of scarlet staining his cheeks. Finally, Jackeline turns to greet him and for a scary second, Steve sees Peggy.

“No way!” She keeps her voice low. “I could have sworn my bit-... uh, my bunch of tias were lying about you really being here.”

Steve shakes the fifties image from his head. The resemblance, even if Jackeline has more slanted eyes and a larger forehead, is uncanny. “Thank you so much for inviting us. The ride up was a bitch but we made the most of it.”

Jackeline stutters over her own laugh. “Oh.” She looks to you with a wide grin. “Oh, he’s a keeper.”

“Thought so myself,” you grin back. “You should hear him swear during a football game.”

“All men turn into animals when their teams don’t live up to expectations.”

Her accent is thicker than yours. Living in New York for over 10 years definitely helped smooth over some dialect and create your own voice. But Jackeline’s, considering she had never lived outside of Mexico, was thick and silky and resembled a place you no longer called home.

She pulls the man behind her forward, effectively interrupting and ending the conversation he was having with one of your cousins. “This is Julian. Julian, this is my one and only sister and her boyfriend!”

Julian, bless his heart, holds out a slightly shaking hand for you to shake. You do so, and try to convey calmness through it. When you watch his glance fall to Steve and feel his hand start to shake yours more rapidly, you can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“It’s an honor!” Julian finally says, voice deep and wracked with some nerves. He shakes Steve’s hand when he gets the chance. “Captain.”

“Please,” Jackeline rolls her eyes. “He’s just like us! You should be swooning over my sister, who is probably going to be the one to kill you if you ever hurt me.”

Julian blinks. His eyes go from Steve to you, contemplating his next move without wanting to seem rude. He nods in your direction. “I don’t doubt you would. Excuse me if I came off as rude. I’m just starstruck by this one here, is all.”

His accent matches Jackeline’s.

Steve waves his hand through the air. “You are not the first tonight, son.”

Sometimes you forget that Steve is an old man. Biologically, he’s in his mid-thirties. Ever changing and growing old as normal, but his soul is old. From a different time and out of it. The mere nickname he just gave Julian, no doubt because of his young age, leaves you averting your eyes and turning away to smile up at one of the many golden chandeliers.

“I really hope you enjoy tonight. The party may seem small right now, but trust me, half of Mexico will be dancing with us tomorrow night.” Jackeline bounces in place, hand intertwining with Julian’s, and she leans in to speak more clearly with you. “Meet me later? We have so much to catch up on.”

Agreeing, you watch the happy couple leave to converse with the few other guests.

Steve turns toward you, eyes squinted in amusement. “Is she really cheating on him with a man of the cloth?”

You can’t help the involuntary snort that leaves your nose. “The photos were watermarked, right? Time stamped? Maybe they’re old.”

Steve huffs a laugh and grabs two champagne glasses as the tray flies by him. “She’s got a way about her. Reminds me of a dame from this book I read a while back.”

Sipping your drink, you ponder. “What book?”

“The one where the dude gets shot at the end.”

“Oh, you mean every book from the 20th century?”

Steve laughs, “That twenties one!”

Mouth dropping, you push at his chest and turn to walk away. “You did not just compare her to Daisy from The Great Gatsby!”

Steve follows. “That’s the one! Honest! She has this way about her!”

    It’s not long after a few dances and photographs that you’re all seated for the actual dinner. There are three long tables, two parallel to each other and the main one perpendicular. You don’t know if it’s a power move or whatever, but your name cards are placed on one of the parallel tables. But it doesn’t bother you much since you have a front view of Seda and your father. 

Dinner is a six-course meal. Not that you assumed any different - Ernesto really went all out for his youngest child (that you know of). Your mics are picking up conversations left and right so you’re actually able to enjoy the meal. Salad, soup, a weird looking appetizer that’s actually quite delicious, the main course of either chicken/fish/or steak, and two desserts. All throughout, Steve is actually having the time of his life being fed so well. 

“Answer me this,” Steve leans in to whisper in your ear. “Are those hearts or paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling?”

You smiled against the ridge of your champagne glass, “You mean those clay flowers?”

“Is that what they are?” He pauses for a long second, squinting.

“Are your eyes going bad?” 

“Eyes don’t go bad.”

Your mouth falls open. “Your eyes are going bad!”

“Again,” Steve holds up a finger. “My eyes are just fine, not bad.”

Something else to add to that list you had made in the morning.

“This is fucking fantastic.”

Steve, still trying to casually squint, huffs. “Annoying...”

You bump his shoulder and lean in to whisper quietly. “Turns you on.”

Steve just blushes.

    It’s like he forgets where he is for a second, what with the great food and surprisingly good conversation with one of your brothers beside him. Steve’s already built a much stronger rapport with the thirty-something year old man than you have. There’s a stab of guilt for a second, a need to duck and drown in shame, when you realize you can’t even remember his name.

Ernesto stands to announce toasts. His is brief and not all that fatherly, but it’s the longest you’ve heard him string some nice words together. Seda follows, brief as well, and includes a childhood anecdote about her. Jackeline’s mother is a young woman, somewhere between forty and fifty, and her toast is only a sentence long - ‘Solo quiero que estas contenta, mi amor.’ For the first time tonight, Bucky voices his thoughts over the mic with a quiet and sad sounding hum.

Ernesto lifts himself from his chair, swatting away his men who go to help him. He has the microphone again and he’s walking toward you, face neutral. You know better than to refuse in front of this big of a crowd. Steve squeezes your hand before you stand and he remains beaming up at you from his seat. 

You’ve seen it in the movies - raise the glass, say some words, end it nicely. It’s what you do. But it feels surreal, almost unnerving when you don’t recognize the faces looking back at you. 

     “Here’s to you,” you lift your champagne glass, looking around at the happy yet solemn faces at the small table. 

“You deserve all the happiness available to you. You are so lucky to have each other,” you finish the toast and drink your whole glass. There is no applause, just sad smiles in response. You’re not asking for much, you never had.

Tony and Pepper share a quick kiss, thanking everyone around the table quickly as the two cakes are being cut. Their wedding was limited, with only a few people in attendance. Whoever was left. Tony’s cabin could obviously accommodate more people, but he had only requested the gathering of those he could stomach to see. But when that turned out to only be Pepper and Happy, he was forced to open the doors to more. 

So, you accepted your chocolate cake from Rhodey as he handed it to you. Shared some quick chit-chat with Steve and Natasha; greeted Thor as he made his first appearance in a while, hair now longer and baggy clothes hanging from his body, a tortured smile on his aging face; and sat through Happy’s own speech, enjoying his refreshing and joyful attitude. 

But now you stood in front of the kitchen sink, staring at the hidden picture frame behind the mugs - a reminder of what was really missing from this special day. 

You studied Peter’s awkward smile and demeanor, his expression youthful and frozen in time. He became foggy, silver clouds blotting his cheeks and his hair went white, and soon the sink sounded with a tiny ‘clunk!’ as you wept silently. 

You felt a hand slide into your own, squeezing with care and understanding. You looked up to see Steve, his eyes watching your face. He gave you one more gentle squeeze, the same tortured smile as Thor’s on his beautiful face, and walked to his room to retire for the night. 

     Glass raised in the air, you swallow in hopes of not choking over any word because of your nerves. 

“Here’s to you,” you start, already deciding this was going to be like pulling a band-aid. “May this world treat you kind, and that you are kind to each other, and that it’s all that matters.”

Steve forgets to drink. He can’t seem to shake the feeling of wanting to cry.

     Everyone watches as Steve leads you onto the dance floor which is intimidating with its glittering violet light and marble that resembles polished glass. If these were the decorations for the rehearsal dinner, Steve can’t even begin to bet on how tomorrow’s going to look. 

Steve holds you close, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other framing your spine. It’s like a tight hug. “Do you enjoy dancing?”

You step on his foot once again. “Shut up, Steve. Tell me your real thoughts.”

“Who, me?”

“Steve.”

“You suck at dancing.”

“There it is.”

     It isn’t hard to sneak away once everyone piles onto the dance floor. Steve shares a few dances with your aunts before excusing himself to use the bathroom. 

The mission itself goes rather smoothly. Infiltrating and collecting information was childsplay. Amateur. You’ve done it a thousand times and your father isn’t exactly a tech wizard. Neither is Seda. 

You find the electronic bank records Scott couldn’t yesterday, as well as a detailed spreadsheet (more like a hitlist) dating ten years back. In the same file, this actually only slightly encrypted (slightly), are the names of high-level players involved. It’s color-coded, some names familiar because of their involvement with Hydra, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you notice that red means eliminated, black means still at large, and blue means ally. 

There’s a lump in your throat as you scroll through and find Steve’s name, thankfully in blue. It’s expected, so you simply move on, until you find yours. And it’s in black. 

It should terrify you, have you running for the hills and tucking your tail between your legs but you’re won’t because Steve’s name is blue. 

That’s all that matters. 

There’s still no concrete information about the shipment, nothing online or on a loose post-it note. It’s non-existent and that’s suspicious and you don’t know why you don’t voice that to Steve. He’s listening at the door and responding to Sam’s questions. You and Scott are the hackers of the group after all. 

You scan through drawers and cabinets, snapping photos of things you can’t take just yet and filing the papers you can. Papers detailing contracts and miscellaneous connections: lawyers, doctors, politicians, police. Once that’s done, you shrink the evidence to the size of a fingernail with the help of Scott’s tech and hide it in your bra. 

Surprisingly enough, the two of you are able to slip out of the office and the first couple living rooms undetected. Until Jackeline herself appears, pulling down her dress as she exits the bathroom. Steve, stunned by the presence of anyone, pulls you toward his chest with unfocused strength. You hiss loudly and naturally go to cup your injured elbow. It takes a moment for Steve to realize what he’s done and who he’s done it to. 

Jackeline nearly stumbles over her heels out of pure clumsiness but her mouth parts as she notices you and the harsh sound you make. If she truly saw or heard anything, she’s keeping it to herself it seems. 

“Ernesto wanted to see me before we called it a night,” Steve says, letting go of your arm and taking a step back. He doesn’t outright say he’s sorry; he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. So he braves a smile, sends you a look, and excuses himself. 

No conversation ever comes naturally - or, rather they take at least minimal effort from either party. You say the first thing you can think of and that’s to congratulate her again. 

Your rambling sort of sounds like the toast you gave earlier, but Jackeline either doesn’t want to embarrass you or simply doesn’t notice. She waits for the pause in your voice before she finally speaks.

“Before I start, don’t hate me for this.”

“That’s not a good way to start a sente-” Your face is smacked to the side absurdly hard and you can feel the sting at the base of your neck. You look back at your sister with wide eyes.

“You couldn’t leave the world dead? He was finally dead!”

Baffled, you rub at your sore cheek. “Why am I the one getting the most blame for that? I followed a fucking raccoon around and I didn’t even snap my fingers!”

“Sorry,” she blinks, eyebrows scrunching as she thinks of the next thing to say. “Sorry, I just… it was that easy to kill him and then he just… wasn’t.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you were also dead.”

“I was.”

“And we brought back trillions.”

“I know.”

Never once did you wonder what your siblings might have thought. More than half of them were separated from this life, while a few remained and conquered their allowed sectors. Ernesto had never discussed which of his children would take over his seat. But when he was dusted and Seda assumed power, it was clear not one sibling wanted anything to do with it. Or they were just too scared to outright disobey Seda and his tyranny.

Jackeline stands tall, shoulders straight and chin held high. She didn’t seem to worry about the repercussions of her actions - she knows who you are and what you are capable of. The smack seemed deliberate but restrained.

“So?” It’s the only word you can muster up.

“Please don’t judge me.” Her confidence falters and her eyebrows push down even further. “I know you know.”

“You gotta spell it out because I know a lot of things.”

Sighing deeply, she grabs the hand you’re using to rub at your cheek. She grips it tightly as she speaks. “I love him. But he’s impossible to love now and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh, Jackeline…”

You could have contacted her. You were on social media - you could have followed her, maybe messaged her annually - hell, called her once in a while to simply check in. The ticket you got was always a temporary one: go to school and find a way to make the trade routes easier to travel. School finished, you found Fury, and you created an alternate identity and background plan to trick your family into doing just what they ordered. And during all that time, Jackeline was barely in her pre-teens, probably scared and alone and missing her only sister. This was just you throwing that smack out of proportion but there was truth in it all. Wasn’t there?

“Julian’s okay. I agreed to this arranged marriage. I’m sure I can grow to love him,” she shrugs, biting her lip as it begins to quiver.

Her eyes are no longer happy - perhaps that was the wrong word to use after she had just confided in you about the reality of her upcoming union. But they definitely seem more dull in comparison to the joyfulness she presented earlier tonight.

“Jackeline, you don’t have to-”

“No, I was gone those five years. He had to move on.” You drop your shoulders and lean forward to give her a hug. No matter how badly you wanted to wrap your hands around Ernesto’s neck, they had more use tenderly wrapped around your sister. 

Relishing the feeling for only a moment longer, Jackeline is ignited once again. “Besides, I should be telling you that! I saw the way that… that fascist pulled you. If he’s hurting you, I’ll kill him.”

Your eyes must be bulging out of your head. “Oh.” 

She looks at you as if you’re going to admit abuse and confide in her like she did you. “No, it’s okay. Steve’s perfect, he’s… wonderful.”

Jackeline shakes her head rapidly, “Don’t you lie to me. I know what I saw.”

“I’m not lying. But you gotta trust me. I’ll explain later-”

“Explain what?”

Seda breaks the conversation and you forget to curse inwardly. Instead, a mumbled ‘fuck’ is heard. It only serves to fuel the flame. Jackeline flashes a rehearsed smile, and she truly is your sister because for a sad moment she looks exactly like you.

“Explain why she never returned my calls to be my maid of honor! I swear, this one is always so busy she forgets I exist!”

“She is,” Seda agrees, grinning like he already knows what the original conversation was about. “Always busy.” 

Jackeline keeps the same smile and is about to continue fanning the flames when Seda interrupts again. “Jackie, your father wanted me to speak with your sister alone for a moment. It has to do with tomorrow’s shipment.”

“Yes, of course. Don’t keep her for too long, okay? Tomorrow’s a late start but we all need our beauty sleep.” Jackeline leaves and fails to look over her shoulder to double check on you.

Seda steps closer, arms swinging casually like he’s pondering the possibilities of what he could do without Steve present. But instead of focusing solely on him, you listen to the soft sound of Bucky’s voice through the mic as he tells you that he’s listening in and he’s here.

“What did she say to you?”

“Is it really any of your business?”

He snaps immediately, gripping your cheeks in one hand so you can’t move your head. “When will you learn to keep your goddamn mouth shut around me?”

“You asked.” Smacking his hand away would have been frowned upon before, but not anymore. Free reign if need be. “Besides, when will you learn that that will never happen?”

“You can’t believe anything she tells you. Ernesto’s only two daughters are mistakes, both threats to his reign. Never submissive, always asking questions-”

You grunt almost comically, “Men and their irrational fears of women… What did I ever do to you?”

He pauses and you notice how his angry eyes always seem to water from his frustration. “You brought him back.”

“I also brought back trillions.”

“You know,” his face does something unpleasant. “Before Jackeline was dusted, she had been seeing that priest.”

“How could you possibly know-”

“He was so devastated by her loss. Found God, became a changed man.”

“Seda, what are you playing at?”

“She came back.” He lifts one finger. “He couldn’t resist.” He raises another. “Didn’t take long for Ernesto to find out.” The third one is the last, and he mimics a small explosion as he concludes. “But don’t worry, we took care of him.”

You never once believed the Devil was this angry, red demon with horns atop his head and a sharp tail, voice booming as he ruled the underworld with the weapons of pain and suffering. He didn’t possess or haunt random places. If anything, the Devil himself was simply a metaphor, a representation of the evil in a living world. It only made people comfortable to create an image, no matter how ridiculous.

Once you even thought the Devil was Hades, and he wasn’t all that bad when it truly came down to the root of all problems. He oversaw the underworld but he didn’t take life, he didn’t cause the pain, he simply watched and ruled. That maybe Hades was real considering Thor was, and he was just chilling in the underworld bored out of his mind.

But the evil the Devil represented was a constant in this world already, in your life from start to finish, and Seda’s eyes held something unspeakable. Dark brown eyes almost black, left cheek twitching with the urge to smile grotesquely, the tense nature of his broad shoulders. He was no massive man, a few inches taller than you, but he was a giant in a world in which Hades lacked and the Devil persisted.

“But Julian-”

Seda scoffs, “Julian was her rebound. Got mixed up in the business, with Ernesto  - but I don’t doubt he loves Jackeline.”

You’re this close to breaking the man’s fingers. He doesn’t stop counting his supposed triumphs. “When were the pictures taken?”

“Don’t do that,” he laughs as he finally steps away from you. “Ask your real question.”

Your smile was involuntary. So was Seda’s. It was the one thing you had in common: smiling at things that weren’t funny. “Did you threaten him? Torture him? Kill him yet?”

“... Jackeline will never know.”

Your mouth parts slowly like you’re still digesting his words. “You unimaginable bastard.”

If you had to bet, you would have placed all your money on Ernesto being the giant to fear. He had hurt you in countless ways, used you and discarded what he didn’t like, put you in the line of fire for his own gain. He had taken pleasure in knowing you hurt, in knowing what you had lost and suffered. He mocked your sacrifice time and time again. And there was a sentence you had never uttered out loud for fear of what you might do, or what anyone hearing you might do, that Ernesto had said one chilly November night only a year after the world returned. It was a thought so suppressed you almost always forgot it had been real. ‘A shame the Widow did what she did - what an unbelievable asset wasted over something pointless.’

No one outside your circle could possibly understand. They didn’t have to - but to dismiss the main reason he was retaking his tainted throne... insanity. 

But something in Seda’s voice moved even the most dormant areas in your soul. The giant was a man with nothing and everything to lose but with the power to choose which. Staring at him for too long prompted an uncomfortable sting across your waterline like his glare burned. Such a normal looking man with short dark hair and an aging face. He stared at you with a set look, one that told you he knew something you didn’t. Like he controlled giants even bigger than him. He wasn’t Hades, who restrained himself and hid in the shadows of a world he was forced to rule - he was the Devil’s metaphor, with red strains licking his tan skin and eyes sharp enough to puncture.

With a small tilt of his head and a strangled grin, he finally turns to leave. “Have a safe drive home.”

     After saying a quick goodbye to Jackeline and securing the estate, you hurried to get to your car and leave. Ernesto had just sent you a quick nod of the head and reminded Steve he needed to see him again before the wedding started. All your leftover energy literally went into pulling open the passenger door. 

Out of instinct now, you wait until the car is past the gates and a good mile from the hidden entrance before speaking freely.

“We get everything?”

The night is dark and you can barely see the outline of the trees. The sky is covered with gray clouds and there are no lampposts to provide light. It’s really just your headlights. “I think so. I think.”

Steve can sense the hesitancy in your answer. “What’s wrong?”

You shake with an exaggerated shiver, “Seda was being creepy… just more than usual.”

“What do you mean?” Steve was probably communicating and online with Sam during his conversation with Ernesto and completely missed the one you had with Seda.

“Fuckin’ didn’t think it could get weirder, but Jackeline mentioned how this was basically an arranged marriage and then Seda,” you stop suddenly. The uneasiness was creeping back. 

“An arranged marriage? Fuck, what else is this mission going to throw at us?”

‘Captain?’

Steve’s hands accidentally swerve the steering wheel as response to the small fright. “... Was that your phone or mine?”

You fumbled through your mini purse for your phone. “Me. Hey? Friday?”

‘The one and only. I hope that didn’t frighten you because I really need your attention right about now.’

Steve chuckles, eyes straight ahead as he drives. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

‘My readings are picking up something strange. The vehicle, even if I’m not able to virtually connect, seems to be stalling.’ Torres did curse you two before you left for renting a car made before 2013.

“What do you mean? It’s working just fine.” 

You set your phone down on the dash to start looking around the interior of the car.

‘The pedal, yes Captain. But I’m afraid my readings are focused on the brakes.’

You bite your tongue and scrunch up your nose. What else could possibly happen tonight? “That’s always fun to hear, great. Greaaaat.”

“Friday, what are you picking up?” Steve’s voice is more stern and even if he’s not doing it on purpose, he’s trying to ignore your coping mechanism of joking during dire situations.

‘It seems that when they took the vehicle for parking, they attached something to the brake lines. Sort of like a trigger sensor. Do not slow down.’

“We’re stuck? We can’t stop?”

‘Everytime the Captain de-accelerates, the sensor heats up. That’s what my readings are.’

“Fuck,” you unclipped your seatbelt and turned your body toward Steve. “Fuck!”

“Friday, what do we do?” The least Steve could do is be the level-headed one here.

‘Exactly what you’re thinking, Captain. The shield’s in the trunk.’

“We can’t exactly get to it!” You don’t mean to scream at Friday. You’re sure she’s used to adrenaline induced attacks guided toward her and never about her.

‘The burners were produced by Stark Industries for our very own spy unit. They are equipped with a taser, flashlight, and laser.’

Jumping so your feet were planted firmly on the passenger seat, you make sure everything is in place: the stolen files, your gun, your phone, and earpiece. “Keep your foot on that pedal, Rogers. I don’t feel like blowing up tonight.”

He releases a shaky breath, hands turning pale from the grip he has on the steering wheel. “You and me both.”

“Friday?” Your voice is only slightly timid, but you manage to move your body out from the front seats and to the back.

‘The laser, Agent Y/LN. Cut through the seats.’

Nodding along to her instructions, you search for the burner under your skirt and unstrap it from the holster. Pulling its ancient antenna outward, Friday verbally guides you through the very simple instruction. The laser blasts out unexpectedly at first making you squeal, which in turn causes Friday (a literal AI) to chuckle. You’re thankful the antenna was facing the back seats already.

“Doing good back there?”

You respond with a low grunt as you carefully carve out the largest rectangle you can create. “You better have shoved the thing close. Any stop signs up ahead?”

Steve’s getting worried now, but instead of putting you more on edge, he hides it pretty well. “Thank god this place is in the middle of nowhere.”

You don’t even give his response acknowledgement as you finally pull the leather, metal, and weird cushion filling away and spot the shield. “I got it, got it, got it.”

‘My sensors suggest you’ll have a good five seconds to escape the vehicle once the Captain releases the pedal.’

You make sure your hair is in the tightest ponytail known to man and that your skirt is bunched up in your free arm. You strap the shield onto the other. “Steve, you gonna be alright?”

His eyes are still focused on the road, but he braves a look in the mirror back at you. His voice is stern but not demanding. “I know you hate the damn shield but bend your legs, jump sideways, and tuck your head.”

“Yeah,” you nod along. Damn straight you’ll put your hate aside for one second if it’s here to save your life. “You better jump on time, you understand me?”

“Sam,” Steve keeps the speed steady and tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding from the sound of you kicking open the back door. “Sam, Widow. Widow.”

Before you jump, the asphalt a never ending, rapid glare of absolute darkness, you leave your phone on the seat in case Steve still needs her. “Friday, send Sam and Torres our location. They’re the only ones who can fly in undetected. Tell them what you told us.”

‘Will do, Agent Y/LN.’

“Be careful.”

You smirk at him, “Don’t be a hero and crash this one into the ice, yeah?”

You don’t wait for his reaction and instead take the plunge. The shield makes a hard impact with the asphalt down below, screeching for what seems like an eternity before slowing down. You did as instructed: knees tucked into your chest as far as you were able, head doing the same. By the time the ride finally ends and you’ve gone partially deaf, you can make out the sound of a loud explosion a close distance away. The heat from the sudden burst of wind nips at your face. You’ve also gone partially blind. 

Your poor boots are definitely ruined and there’s a faint tell of a bruised ankle in the works. The arm attached to the shield will also need to be popped back into place - it shouldn’t feel this loose. Luckily, your head and torso were completely unscathed. 

Lifting yourself up the best you could without straining anything too much, you noticed the car still in flames but driven off the road. 

“He jumped, he jumped, he jumped,” you repeat, limping as quickly as you could, shield still attached to your arm. The closer you get the clearer everything becomes, regardless of the smoke. “Steve.”

You squint through the orange light and the dark of night. The fire wasn’t all that loud in its crackles and it doesn’t take you long to realize while tapping your ears that you lost your earpiece. 

“Steve,” you try again, adrenaline still pumping but panic seeping in. As if on cue, you can make out his body laying far away from the car relatively unharmed. “Ah, shit.” You drop down on your knees and wince involuntarily. Slapping his cheeks doesn’t wake him up, neither does gently shaking him. You don’t want to do anything to hurt him more. 

The sound of gravel popping kicks you back into spy mode. Hide. This was a hit, of course it was, and they were coming to see their job done. 

“You so owe me,” you groan as you unstrap the shield to throw it into the woods, the faint tell of it hitting a tree enough to make you work faster. You hook your arms underneath Steve’s armpits and bend your knees, breathing in deeply and out a few times before pulling him with all your strength. There’s pain shooting up your arm but you try to ignore it. Small whimpers escape you as you pull harder and finally make it a good distance from the wreckage. You sit Steve, still unconscious, behind one of those massive pine trees and sit next to him after retrieving the shield. 

It’s only two black SUV’s that come to check their hard work. They’re bending down and using their own fire extinguishers, snapping their own photos, the works. It isn’t until Seda walks over to admire the wreckage that you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. 

You’re seated in front of Steve now with the shield in front of you when a sudden movement to your left startles you. Before you scream, however, a hand covers your mouth. 

“Shh, shh.” Sam. Your eyes fill with tears. 

“I’ve got him. Torres is coming for you, alright? I’m the only one who can carry him out.”

It doesn’t take much to convince you. You’re silently helping Sam strap Steve against his chest as Seda and his men are now investigating the woods. You can hear them close, cursing and yelling about finding you. 

“Go a little further. Down there,” Sam points in front of you. “Torres is parked and waiting. Go.”

“Don’t drop him.” Sam stifles his laugh. 

You follow his directions, limping as quickly as you can, and finally find Torres, your second knight in shining armor of the night. 

    After an all clear from the medical team, Steve is left alone in your hotel room to rest. He still hasn’t woken up but Helen isn’t worried since his scans show no major damage. Small talk with the rest of the team fills in the time but it’s like you’re not really there, merely a participant on a loop. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you’re covered in scratches and smoky ash and you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kill something. 

Your father wanted you dead. And showing up to the wedding was just going to anger him more but it had to be done. But you were tired, so fucking tired, tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep or rest.

You let your hair down but stay in your tattered clothing, making yourself useful as best you can. You answer questions, you review footage, you draft up some reports. Bucky tries to sit you down at one point, but he backs off when you simply shake your head and give him that famous broken smile. 

You’re sitting at your desk trying to save some of your phone’s cloud through the connected email. Sam has already ordered you a new phone. On the computer to your left, you’re scanning and uploading the files you stole tonight. On the right, your little butterfly is transcribing conversations from yesterday. 

The transcription is finished before the uploads. It prints. 

SEDA: ‘Ernesto needs to know how many more women we can get from Jonathon. I thought you said your Italian contact was up to date?’

UNKNOWN: ‘He is. But the women are coming from here instead. Got a load of ten just now.’

SEDA: ‘The shipment goes out during the wedding. Not before, not after. We can’t fuck this up for Ernesto and we cannot have the stars and stripes finding out.’

UNKNOWN: ‘Ernesto plans to mention it to him tomorrow.’

SEDA: ‘Then make sure he keeps quiet about it.’

The bitter taste in your mouth returns and you have to run to the nearest bathroom.

     Steve wakes just an hour after, disoriented but able to discern who he is. “What happened?”

You’re standing at the foot of his bed, having just got there a few minutes before, practically on the verge of tears. “... Did you know?”

There it was. Any hope of truly coming to terms with this new world order or his role in it, any hope of feeling like he did before he succumbed to the American war propaganda and became a science experiment, crumbling before him. The heavy weight that were your shoulders, crumbling like shaky mountains. His own, tense and straining and urging him to get out of bed. 

He’s been in the trenches when the smell of gas and blood clogged his nostrils and made him dizzy. He’s experienced loss a thousand times over, just heinous instances of despair where he swore he was torn in two. He’s lost on his own accord and pretended like the world was still on its axis. 

And he knew his time was up. He just thought he’d have more than a day to enjoy it.  “I was going to tell you.”

It’s like the air is punched out of you. “You knew?”

“Please, listen, please,” he scrambles out of bed.

“What the fuck, Rogers?”

“Ramirez told us yesterday. I swear I only found out yesterday. Yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” You’re stepping away from him. He’s almost on his hands and knees and you’re stepping away from him. “Before?”

Steve makes a pained noise. “Yes, but please-”

“No! You kept this to yourself and you had the fucking audacity to share the same bed as me?”

“Please, let me explain-” He tries to reach out but you side-step him. He reacts like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t touch me, Steve!”

“Please, just let me explain. We all know - Bucky, Sam, Torres, we all know.”

Your face does something he’s never seen it do. “Fuck?”

He’s talking faster now, words just spilling on the floor and into the air and he doesn’t know what else to do. “We’re tracking it. We have a plan set. We were supposed to tell you tomorrow before the wedding.” He stops to take in a breath. “I was going to tell you.”

“You went behind my back.”

“If I would have told you, you would have done something horrible tonight! We need your father alive to find those people!”

Eyes wide in shock and anguish, you step further away from him. Each step was the equivalent of a dagger plunging deep into Steve’s heart, twisting and burning its way to the depths of his vulnerability. He wanted to succumb to the pain - after all, he deserved it.

“That would have been my choice to make!”

Now he pushed forward, shoulders hunched and palms turned upward as if he was pleading for a crumb of understanding. “I was gonna kill him.”

He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist. You remained perfectly still, a tree stump with no cover. “I was gonna shoot him between the eyes when I first found out. But if I had done that, then we would never know the location of those people.”

His weight was pulling you down and you felt his wet cheek against your stomach. “I deserved to know.”

His grip tightened, “You did. But if you would have known-”

“I would have known. Period.”

He had to know how much he weighed. But Steve leaned his body onto yours harder, afraid you would vanish and god forbid turn to dust. It didn’t really register in his mind that, even though he was holding you in place, you weren’t exactly trying to escape his hold either. 

He had let you go once and he’ll be goddamned if he let you go again. 

“It ate me alive. I hated doing this-”

You pushed against his shoulders and sensed his reluctance to let go. Instead, you look down at him and tense your jaw. “Steve, you don’t hate me, do you?”

His face dropped and his grip loosened. You should just slap him across the face, Steve thinks, because how in the world were you thinking that at this moment? Never did he think you would find a way to twist this - to somehow blame yourself for his mistake. Took a long time to see it, but you were just as righteous as he was. It would get you both killed someday. 

“Why do you think that? What in the world would make you think that after all this time? After everything?”

He lets you push him away so he could stand but he makes sure to keep his hands on you. A tangible promise that you are real. 

“You agreed to help me catch a drug lord. You didn’t sign up for this extra mess.”

“We may not always know what we’re up against,” Steve began, sniffing and wiping at his wet face. God, he felt like such a mess. “But I could never fucking hate you. Don’t even think that.”

“You sure?” your voice cracks, hands slightly shaking from the need to touch him too. “Captain America didn’t sign up for this.”

He shakes his head almost violently, “No, no. Don’t go there. I am not him, I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“Steve-”

“No! I’ve hated the title for a while now. I’m done. I’ve hated my reflection for years and years.” The tiny whine in the middle of your throat gurgled and your hands moved instantly to cup his cheeks.  “I represent no one but myself. I’m tired of others thinking I’m the same man from ten years ago, or the same man from the forties, or the same man from last week just because they’re enamored by that star on my chest.”

He tilts his head to lean into your touch, “I am helping you because it’s the honorable thing to do. I signed up for this work, I intend to finish it. Not Captain America, but me - Steve, me.”

“You’re still making me feel like it’s something you have to do.”

“I admit that I was never overly fond of the idea of being wrapped up in this,” Steve admits, hands now cupping yours over his cheeks. “But toppling this empire will keep you safe.”

As heartwarming as that sounded, you broke the fantasy. “The minute we take the giants out, they’ll elect someone new.”

“But we take the giants out. The giants that hurt you.”

He’s right, like always. 

“Steve,” you say quietly, bringing his face closer to kiss away his tears. You’re struggling to keep the tippy-toes and your ankle is screaming for a break, but you persist. “You should have told me.”

“I know.”

“No more secrets.”

“None, I swear, I promise.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you make sure his eyes are locked on yours before you speak. “I’m not walking away this time. I’m not leaving you. Not again.”

Steve’s mouth releases a big burst of air like he was holding it in, and he wraps you in a hug that promises the same.

~

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

A/N: Wooooo that took forever lol xxMoni

[sunnypogue]

jj visits you at school (headcanon)

ok so i took a very innocent prompt and turned it into my old ass reliving my college days (this is an ode to college football + texas food)

(warnings: nsfw-ish, drinking, cursing)

after high school, you decided you needed to get the hell out of north carolina

didn’t even consider duke/chapel hill/state

applied to schools all over the country before deciding on university of texas

(jj was sad because you were leaving - and he wasn’t - but it was closer than cal, which was your next choice)

as soon as you settled in, you bought him a flight out for a home football game

basically a religious experience in texas

you swooped him late thursday night from austin-bergstrom, borrowing your big’s boyfriend’s chevy silverado

yes you had joined a sorority. yes you lowkey loved it.

you could barely see over the wheel, and were basically falling asleep because you had to book it to the airport right after your 2 hour bio lab

but you got so excited when you saw jj - he was all amped up from flying for the first time

he waved you down, holding his beat up duffle bag on the sidewalk outside of arrivals

laughed at you as you tried navigating the truck (it was HARD okay, your big’s boyfriend owned a ranch - it wasn’t meant for the streets of austin), swung open the door as you rolled to a stop, slid into the passenger seat, gave you a “howdy, ma’am” before leaning over the gear shift & tongue fucking you.

woke ya right up!

you welcomed him to texas the traditional way - honey butter chicken biscuit from whataburger

he inhaled it - “god, what the FUCK is this?”

y’all spooned in your twin xl bed - you elbowed him in the chest, twice.

took him to your gen ed history class the next morning - y’all hid in the back and sent each other dirty texts the whole time (nothing new there)

gave him the full tour of campus after & rewarded him with torchy’s after - peg leg margarita + trailer trash tacos.

he had never had queso before - blew his fuckin’ mind

“why is the food here so GOOD?”

took him to your sorority mixer that night - 70’s themed, so y’all blew it out of the water with some very authentic ABBA costumes that you coordinated with your best friend + her boyfriend

jj let you round brush dry his hair & wore the classic all white outfit to match yours

y’all fucked in the costumes later that night - you couldn’t stop laughing, and he wouldn’t stop humming “super trouper”

woke up at the ass crack of day for game day - 2pm kick off meant 10 am tailgate

jj let you dress him (you were worried about getting him into the tailgate - you weren’t really in the mood for him to have to answer the “who do you know here?” question a thousand times)

of course, you had the frat boy game day uniform all ready for him - black ut polo, wranglers & cowboy boots.

he drew the line at the cowboy hat, opting for a backwards baseball cap

he wasn’t excited about the boots, until you handed him a flask & told him that was the only way he was sneaking alc into the game

jj immediately filled it with jack, before slipping into the side of his boot - “alright alright alright”

shockingly, getting him into the frat tailgate was no problem (you wisely chose to bring him to your big’s boyfriend’s frat - while he wasn’t pledge master, he had a lot of pull, and didn’t bat an eye as you brought your semi-incognito boyfriend into the house)

and of course, he made friends with literally EVERYONE he met

shotgunning beers with your best friends and their boyfriends

betting people to ride the mechanical bull in the middle of the backyard (because what the fuck)

sharing his boot flask (“yeah, my girlfriend got it for me - yeah, she’s pretty great.”)

of course, you taught him how to “hook ‘em”

and suckered him into a picture 

literally y’all only got one good one, you on his back, throwing the horns, him grinning at you as he half-assed the horns

he was flipping off the camera in every other photo

when y’all got to the stadium, he lost his shit

easily the biggest place (with the most people) he had EVER been in

completely took it in stride - learning all the chants, (“we’re gonna beat the hell outta you!” was his favorite) cheering as pledges were forced to chug whatever crazy shit the older frat members smuggled into the stadium between the student section bleachers, going absolutely apeshit when texas would score

jj didn’t know football could be fun - football was synonymous with his dad betting big and losing hard, which meant he got the brunt of...that

after the game (horns win!), y’all headed back to your dorm for a shower & power nap before hitting sixth street later that night

you changed your outfit three times and your panties once, because SOMEONE thought it would be funny to finger you while you tried to do your hair 

you weren’t really complaining, tbh

y’all walked to a pregame, jj wearing his boots & sipping from his flask, arm slung around you

same group y’all tailgated with earlier, so jj was like an old friend at this point 

(he even got the invite to the fraternity mardi gras trip in the spring - he asked if you were going to be flashing for beads - you smacked him on the arm)

wrangled him into an intense game of rage cage (you won - he bragged about you for the rest of the night)

laughed as you and your friends sat in the uber to the bars, memorizing your fake id’s 

jj had the same one from high school - he had a whole life story for his id at this point

let you drag him to a country bar - he kept your drink full as you & your sorority sisters drunkenly line danced to “any man of mine” and “cottonhead road”

you even got him to two step 

he ended up half-carrying your wasted ass home - you passed the fuck out the second you were back in your dorm

being the good boyfriend he is, he helped you take your makeup off and change into your pj���s

you woke up in his cutoff coors shirt, and nothing else - for revenge, you woke him up with a blow job - obviously.

you both had mind numbing hangovers (he refused to admit it, but he was feelin’ a lil rough after a game day + night out on sixth), so you dragged him to brunch - hair of the dog, baby.

knocked a couple mimosas back & made plans to lay out by the pool - nothing like getting absolutely fried by the sun to revive your hungover ass

as you were falling asleep on the lounger by the school’s outdoor pool, you heard him mumble something 

“you know where austin community college is, baby?”

you nodded, not following the conversation whatsoever, playing around with his baseball cap (you forgot your sunglasses, he offered it up to protect your eyes from the sun)

“lookin’ at it” he shrugged, holding his phone up, home page for ACC on his browser

you sat up a lil bit. “you’d consider leaving the outer banks?” 

he didn’t respond right away - you poked him with your foot a couple times

“I don’t think I’d ever leave the outer banks for good - but for a few years? maybe.” “for me?” 

he poked you back “nah, i’m coming for torchy’s + whataburger. you’re just an added bonus”

you nailed him with the hat, square in the face. “shut up.”

he laughed - sat up, swung your legs onto his lap, “i’m coming for you. you shut up.”

[thecat-inthehat]

my screencaps folder is sitting pretty at over 2.6k caps that have yet to go into my main XIV folder and be sorted. Most of them are literally just msq recap photos,,, dear god how big will it get before EW drops. I’ve made peace with the idea that I’ll probably not get through all the expansions before EW drops. That being said, I mostly just need to replay HW -- it’s been about 3 years since I’ve last touched it in any serious capacity, and my memories of it are extremely hazy compared to SB and SHB. I’m hoping I’ll come out of it liking the expansion a bit more, but as it stands it’s my least favorite out of all of them for reasons that are somewhat hard to articulate.

My very first FF was Final Fantasy Tactics. It kickstarted my love for the Ivalice Alliance, and by extension, fantasy politics. It was also extremely unfair to the rest of the series, because for the longest time, I expected them all to be the same way, or have a greater emphasis on politics or grounded conflict and faction warfare, with extremely complex characters with suspect motivations.

Replaying the patches for 2.x really does crystallize to me why I had such a problem with Heavensward the first time around. The 2.x patches are extremely political, between Ul’dah uprisings, Doman refugee politics in 2.2, the greater focus on Ishgardian machinations, etc. In short, I love this series of patches a lot. I live for political drama, how characters interact, and the penultimate event of being accused of regicide and having to flee to a foreign country? [mwah] that shit was good.

So imagine my surprise and disappointment when Heavensward turned out to be more of a road trip through Dravania, bickering between characters who were sworn enemies, with little and less in the way of actual Ishgardian high house politics. I mean, sure, there’s some, near the beginning, or later during the events after the Aery, but... nothing like the lead up to Heavensward. Added to the fact that the strange pacing had you dealing with the Sultana and the Ul’dah plot every now and again, and I just... didn’t really have a great time. I still enjoyed it, I liked it a lot better than what shitshow SWTOR was going onto, but... I really did just end up being like “elves and their fuckin problems, man”.

Really, the only saving grace of Heavensward for me was Ysayle. And Then. [scrubs face]  I didn’t much care for the HW patch cycle at all, largely because Ysayle was so forgotten, and I found the Warrior of Darkness stuff weirdly stupid (oh how times have changed), and didn’t care much about Ishgard after they had killed off my favorites. I certainly didn’t care enough about Estinien to save him. (3.4 was tricky for me, because I actually didn’t like the WoD plot at all, felt like it was completely out of no where; but then I also enjoyed having Yda and Papalymo back and a focus on what the rest of Eorzea was doing.)

Like. To give you an idea of what I had initially thought -- I thought Aymeric and Lucia were going to be vaguely analogous to Delita and Valmafra. Boy howdy was I wrong.

I’ve learned to appreciate HW anew with the help of some friends here and there, or by taking it to RP and fixing various issues, as well as getting me to appreciate characters in a different light (Estinien, Aymeric), but I still have this lingering dissatisfaction with the expansion. I think it’s actually one of the reasons why I enjoyed Stormblood so much -- Heavensward had lowered my expectations on getting an expansion based around politics, and then SB was politics through and through.

I’m absolutely not saying that Heavensward was bad -- as it stands it’s a rather good story, and I do enjoy it a great deal. It’s just that what I was expecting and what I got were so wildly dissimilar that it’s hard to get past even now, five years later. In those five years though, I’ve grown and changed a lot, and so has the story of XIV. So I just... want to give it another chance. I’m not expecting to come out going “HW is the best”, but I want to be able to like it on it’s own merits, not because a friend got me interested in a niche concept that we dragged kicking and screaming out of the 2 lines it got in the main plot.

Anyways, I’m about to go fight Shiva and get stepped on, cheers

[violetsdicaprio]

“You!” with Tommy Shelby x Shelby sister angst please? If not then that’s fine ahaha🖤

Anon: Request where Tommy Shelby finds out his daughters been sleeping and sneaking out with a rival gangsta please

Romeo and Juliet      

-Part 1

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Sister! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, just Peaky Blinders themes.

A/N: I thought these two requests blended well, so here’s what I came up with! Also, when this request popped up, i thought i was in trouble 😂

“WHERE IS SHE?” THE VOICE OF Arthur Shelby boomed as he entered the den. Groups of men scrambled towards the 4 walls, trying to avoid the wrath of the man with the brutal reputation. “John! Have you seen Y/N?” He asked as he approached the boy by the black board. 

“Upstairs.” John replied, shaking his head at whatever rivalry had got into: again.

Bolting up the stairs, his heavy footfall could be heard against the rotting wood as he called, “Y/N!”

A faint voice mumbled, “Shit.” then an “Out, out.” before the slamming of a window. “What do you want, Artie?” The same voice called back, almost mocking him with the nickname she came up with when she was 3. 

“Open the fuckin’ door.” Arthur demanded as he tried to jiggle the door open but it was locked.

“I’m changing.” She snapped back, which was true but wasn’t the only reason. The heavy foot falls was once again heard trailing back downstairs as he sulked away, allowing Y/N to crack the window open revealing the dashing boy she’d been sneaking around with for the last year. “Sorry.” She whispered, a smirk played on the boys lips.

“Was worth it.” His deep voice replied before he winked, causing the girl to blush lightly and giggle. No one else but Mattia Sabini -Eldest son of Darby Sabini- had ever made her feel this way, it was corny, she thought. Yet it was true; her hard exterior completely dissolved when around him and it was the same with him…

“See you at the cut, later?” he asked and when the sudden movement from the hallways began to make them both panic, she pecked his lips.

“See you there.” she smiled as he jumped down and she closed and locked the window. Combing through her hair, she took the crazy strands behind her ear and zipped up the back of her dress, making sure she looked presentable…

Gracefully, she walked down the stairs, earning tilts of caps and bows of head from the men in the shop. Unlike the brothers who were feared, Y/N was respected, she was selfless and polite towards everyone -much to her brothers dismay- but she was the beam of light Small Heath needed to keep going!

“There you are.” Polly stated, her nose flared: oh she was mad. Y/N was quick to spin around to see her Aunt and Brother, cross armed staring at her. 

“What now?” The 18 year old rolled her eyes aggressively looking severely unimpressed by her family. Polly went to speak when Ada came marching in, followed by a red faced Finn and an out of breathe Isiah. “Yeyyy!” She spoke in a monotone voice. “One big happy family: reunited.” She added in a sarcastic tone, before her face dropped blank. A cold sneer on her face as she looked between them all, never mind the boys, her coldness sent a chill down Polly’s spine…

“Family meeting.” Arthur grumbled, all of them draped into the kitchen whilst Y/N held back, wanting to get away. You see, Y/N used to be close with her family, she really did but war changed them; all of them. Over time, she watched her Aunt deteriorate with fear, Ada got rid of the blanket - seeing how truly vile the world is. The boys came back almost unrecognisable, it hurt her more then anything else. Y/N hadn’t changed, still kind and caring as ever. It was only since there changed ways started to have an influence, she turned colder then the bleak midwinter. That’s the only way to survive this family, you see they tried to protect her, even more so then Finn! It drove her crazy, they acted as if they were the victim but with recent events her own family were becoming the enemy. So along with her cold exterior came her rebelliousness, her and Mattia were supposed to be temporary, they both wanted to break from their families hold but when the two were together it was a great enough escape as it was. However, the Shelby’s had one thing they all still had in common was their hatred to a certain Inspector Campbell.

Tiptoeing away from her family, she saw the one pig that made her blood turn cold and the colour to wash from her face. His sickening smirk was upon his lips, directed towards the young girl. Shivering as her chest began to rise rapidly, she knew he had a certain reputation with women and he hadn’t tried to hide his feeble attempts towards the young girl. Just as his eyes lingered on her, she felt completely dirty. Before she could say something, he flashed a chain she knew all too well.

Y/N’s eyes widened in slight horror, the silver cross gleamed in the dull sunlight as the family gem stone of the Sabini’s flashed in front of her eyes. Oh shit. He’s been watching, probably for months, watching me. She thought. Her heart was pumping so fast the girl presumed she would explode. Y/N knew if her dirty secret got out, it’d collapse the whole family and any progress they’d made -even if she didn’t agree with what they did. To be honest, she was the core to this family. Y/N kept them all sane and in order, Polly knew this, that’s why she pushed her niece away, that’s what she thought would be best for Y/N and the family. Yet Y/N just wanted to feel loved, like before…

Without realising, the Inspector had approached her. Gulping at the closeness, she tumbled back.

“Now, Miss Shelby, seems you have been busy.” His thick Irish accent filled her ears, causing her to shiver. 

“Leave me alone.” She expressed weakly, internally scolding herself for it.

“But I think you could be great for the cause. Smart and clearly” he paused, holding up the chain. “Sly.” 

Snatching the chain, she glared at the man who continued to smirk. “I don’t know where you fucking got this but you dare utter a single word of this, I’ll cut off your hands and bury you face down in a ditch.” She snarled, she done it once before, Campbell could be next for all she cared.

“Ah, maybe not the brightest. Threatening an Inspector.” he tutted, edging even closer.

A burst of anger fuelled her confidence as she leaned in, whispering “I don’t think the court would care, you didn’t even fight for your country. Your as good as dead to them already.” She whispered maliciously, the devilish smirk and twinkle in her eye reminded all that she was a fucking Shelby.

Walking backwards she watched his face fall flat, almost embarrassed. About to laugh, her body collided with another causing her to turn rapidly. Fuck. Thomas Shelby stood there slightly amused at the Inspectors reaction but his face faltered. Before she could slip away, he spoke “You!” he spoke harshly, “Family meeting.” Simply, she groaned.

“Don’t make me go, Tom.” She huffed, but it was too late she was already dragged by the arm. “Look! I found him.” Y/N announced as if she hadn’t tried to escape, slumping in the seat by John who she still got along with - slightly. “Alright Jo-Jo” she teased him with the old nickname.

“Yeeah, Yeah, shurrup.” he muttered back in a jokingly tone. The two sat and watched as the rest argued back and forth until Tommy turned to stare in their direction when Ada stormed out, scanning over his two younger siblings. Y/N never looked more interested in her life. 

“Right, everyone out.” he called. “Not you.” he directed at Y/N who sat back down with a huff. She even noticed Pol linger by the door, not sure if she wanted to leave the two alone: she did. 

“What do you want Tom?” she asked cautiously.

“What was Campbell speaking to you about?” he asked calmly, sitting down opposite her whilst lighting a cigarette and she did the same. Inhaling quickly.

“Oh you know, just casual chitter chatter.” She remarked sarcastically, not wanting this conversation to continue. Simply laughing at his intense glare as she did the same. Piercing blue eyes clashing with each other. 

“Am I Laughing?” He asked rhetorically.

“No but you should, might melt your cold heart.” She snapped back, had enough of his games. Although he didn’t show it, her comments did nip. everyone who was on the receiving end felt the nip, she was brutal and more importantly very personal. “Now, excuse me.” She spoke.

“I know what your fuckin’ doing.” He seethed, not one to let out his anger but she could easily pull everyone’s trigger, it was a gift. “Your gonna end up dead with him, probably thrown to the bottom of the cut.” 

Stopping dead in her tracks, her heart pricked repeatedly. Her wrists curled into balls. “What i’m doing?” She exclaimed. “I’ve done nothing.” 

“The Sabini’s are dangerous, I thought you of all people would understand.” He returned to his calm state after a few puffs of tobacco.

Y/N just scoffed. “Sounds familiar doesn’t it, Tom? Falling for the enemy. I thought you of all people would understand.” She reiterated, causing a moment of silence. 

Tommy huffed, “I’m worried for ya. You’re my sister.”

Y/N exhaled in a chuckle. “You care?” she shook her head. “No, all you fucking care about is business.”

“Y/N/N.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Her voice cracked slightly. “I tried. I fucking tried with you all. You pretend to care about family. All you want is power and money. If i turned up dead in the cut, you wouldn’t even shed a single fucking tear.” Y/N boomed, her temper rising and with the look on Tommy’s face, she was satisfied. Picking up her coat, she ran out to the den frantically. Tears streaming down her cheeks. Pol was quick to see Tommy who was sat there with his head in his hands. 

“Y/N?” Arthur asked, placing his arm on his sisters’ shoulder only to be shoved away.

“Fuck off!” She screamed, causing the whole place to fall silent never seeing the girl so angry; an angel soon turned the devil. In a split second she was gone. 

 Bang. 

Everyone stared at the door then turned to Arthur who was now on his way to Tommy with a murderous look plastered across his face…

[artificiallyimplantedmemories]

[ ep 6 liveblog/commentary under the cut (finally) ... so many screenshots inside. I’m not sorry? ]

this is fairly stream of consciousness as I was watching in between bouts of tutoring so it’s less Massive Thinky Thoughts than usual, but w/e, it’s a commentary!

They said no fly zone and I was immediately concerned. If Sam goes out there with the wings, I hope he doesn’t get shot at. On the flip side, Bucky just “Sergeant Barnes” his way in, huh?

I appreciate them using the holo-face tech again so it’s not a throwaway, but also having those makes everything so messy. In the meantime though look at this pause face XD

WHEN CAP SLINGS HIS MIGHTY SHIIIIEEELD

“I thought Captain America was on the moon.” Who spread this rumor widely enough for members of the GRC to believe it?? lmao

“A baguette and a few French fries.” Sam’s sass will never stop being top tier. Also I love that both Caps get to fight Batroc. Yay parallels!

“You don’t think I’ve ever fought for something bigger than myself? That’s all I’ve ever tried to do, and I’ve failed twice.” Ow. Bucky, you’ve kept Steve safe all throughout WWII, you’ve been part of the fight with Thanos and helped the Avengers win, you’ve fought your own mind for the greater good, healed the damage and the trigger words in order not to become a weapon against people, stop thinking of your failures ;_; (I say as my Nat muse shrugs sympathetically in my head)

Bucky showing off the same compassion as Sam with Karli? <chef’s kiss> Bucky on a motorcycle again? <double chef’s kiss>

Sharon I see you with that trick. We stan a smart woman!! Not gonna lie I did think it was a tracker at first though. Ruthless. Way more ruthless than Sam would approve of...

I’m not gonna lie, seeing the difference in fighting style between Steve and Sam with the shield is just so fun? Sam gets to work far more in three dimensions, he uses the repulsors and the wings and the shield all in tandem. It’s like seeing a cross between Steve and Tony in some ways, but with the added acrobatics. It’s cool!

Seeing Karli’s supporters starting to question her and her extremism is rewarding. I’ve known multiple people who have come from backgrounds that were pretty close to brainwashing that have slowly broken out of it over time, either due to seeing how twisted things were towards the top or increased exposure to people who weren’t part of their (forcibly) exclusive group. It’s a hell of a wake up call. And that extremism continues for Karli, setting the truck on fire. How much are her friends following out of genuine commitment vs out of obligation vs out of fear?

Walker’s “you don’t think Lemar’s life mattered” is the realest anger from him that I’ve been able to identify yet. At least if he’s fighting them, Bucky’s getting a chance to save the hostages.

“Boy you just earned this ass-whoopin’!” XD XD XD

And there we have the contrast: John continuing to fight single-mindedly instead of giving a damn about the people trapped and burning to death. He doesn’t always think those lives matter. The parallels with Karli build. And of course she’s getting her ass kicked to some extent because Walker is a trained fighter, she’s far more someone working on instinct. But good on him for trying at the last minute to save them anyway.

We knew Sam was gonna save the day but damn it feels good to see it!! I love the concept of him with his human strength augmented only by the tech he wears (like Tony!) wearing the wings of an angel, saving people with superhuman compassion and a brain that lights up like the fourth of July. That’s our new Cap, folks, the one that we needed.

Bucky’s smile in response I’m !!

BUCKY’S MURDERFACE WHEN KARLI THROWS THE ROD !!!

Sam knocking out five people with the shield, you work them angles, babe !!!!!!!

Is it Sharon backstory time? It sure fuckin’ is!! Holy shit she’s got so much more invested in this fight than a pardon, and her face here is just so genuinely hurt?? Ow. But also cool the Power Broker theory was true. Honestly props to her for rising to the top and finding a way to keep tabs on the whole world while legit exiled. That said, she’s got to have done some incredibly problematic shit to get there so we’ll see what shakes down from that.

LOOK AT HER FACE

Aw fuck of course she’s been shot. Gonna skin someone if she doesn’t make it, but given how they had her moving after, she should be fine. People in the MCU have come back from far worse lol

THE CRUX OF THE SHOW RIGHT HERE. SAM WILSON EVERYONE.

If this murderball wasn’t the antagonist, Nat would be cheering her on, look at how fierce!

But also Sam ;_;

Okay, feels aside, check out the way that when the shield gets punched, Sam instinctively pre-empts being shoved back by deploying his wings, digging them into the ground to reinforce his stance. You can see here that he’s got it tripod style behind him, knees bent to absorb the shock and keep him balanced but flexible while he takes the blow. Whoever planned and choreographed this knew their shit. This here martial artist approves!

“Stay down!” “No.”

“Lincoln, really?” “Great man, great quote.” “Not when you say it.” Pfffft.

Karli’s desperation for Sam to fight back is such a poignant note here despite the hoarse yelling, because it speaks to her need for validation, the need to believe that she’s fighting for the right reason, that the people opposing her deserve to be hurt. But if he doesn’t fight despite everything, then he’s simply not allowing her that vindication, and she has no choice but to question whether it’s right to fight him. Innocents being harmed? She can do that in an abstract way. She’s not punching or shooting them, they just happen to be there and in the way of the explosion. The GRC members? Not innocent because they’re directly taking away her ability to further her cause via passed resolutions and inadequately distributed resources. Sam is neither of those. He’s clearly fighting alongside those who oppose her, but refuses to actually fight her despite his ability to. He’s someone she can’t resolve with her ideas of the world and it’s devastating her. Even as she’s got her gun trained on him, she looks lost and has to fight to regain the nerve to shoot.

Thank you Sharon. It’s possible he could have pulled something out of the hat last minute (he did have his wings after all), and the look Sam gives her is slightly disbelieving, but I think a lot of the grief here is the fact that she’s so young and her cause has roots in a genuine problem that’s not being resolved and is impacting literally half the population of the world. Sharon looks so relieved, and it must hurt to see her protege die especially at her own hand, but she’s never been one to pull her punches (or her bullets).

How long do you think this death is going to haunt him? (Can anyone say “his whole life”?) (Also La Pieta vibes)

AN ACTUAL ANGEL oh, he lands so gently, looks so solemn, puts her on a stretcher to try to save her T_T

Sorry I totally broke the mood and laughed at “or is it Captain Falcon” because I’ve played too much SSBBM early in my life oops. Just imagine Sam as this guy, yelling “FALCON PUNCH” dsfkjgsdjfh

Okay, I’m so glad that Sam is broaching this topic in public (despite the fact that you know they’d try to move it to a private discussion immediately in real life), and that he’s trying to make people understand the struggle and make more compassionate decisions. What I found highly interesting in the cinematography here is that:

1) They pan back to Bucky occasionally to show him thoughtfully listening, not interrupting, and maybe it’s important that this be an example to follow for people who are non-minorities when a member of a minority is talking about their struggle, and

2) when he says “Every time I pick this up, I know millions of people are going to hate me for it.” they cut immediately to a close up of John Walker…

And he looks down, guilty. Maybe that’s a sign of self-recognition. Maybe there’s hope for a change. (I wouldn’t hold my breath for it though.)

Oh hell the look on Isaiah’s face. Did I cry? A little.

Bucky’s starting to smile just the teeniest bit but you know who’s also smiling? TORRES. HI BABY BOY!

Empathy, empathy, empathy. The power of the people, the power of the government, the power imbalances that make the world the way it is. Sam. Wilson. GOD I love him. Thank you, thank you.

Bucky trying to play it cool. You dumb butt XD Look at their dumb faces aaa

Ahh, Sharon. Told you she’d be fine. Just needs to see an illicit doc or something. She probably has twenty of them lined up.

I SEE YOU THEME MUSIC

Oh D: That’s… no… why death, no.

Of course Zemo is smiling, he probably arranged for the Super Soldier deaths. OR VALENTINA hello I forgot about you. Oh, US Agent outfit, proper. He’s acting like a little child with it, go figure ^^; Still haven’t figured out Valentina’s motives, I’m curious.

Aw hi Yori. Bucky being honest and making proper amends is gonna make me tear up again. But also: “by the Winter Soldier… and that was me.” WAS. WAS. THIS IS PROGRESS. “I didn’t have a choice.” P R O G R E S S. EVERY NAME CROSSED OUT. P R O G R E S S !

Sam & Isaiah. I’m so proud of them. “You’re special.” DAMN RIGHT!! Gosh I love them I love them I love them.

“I might fail. Shit, I might die. But we built this country. Bled for it. I’m not gonna let anybody tell me I can’t fight for it. Not after what everybody before me went through. Including you.”

CATCH ME TEARING UP AGAIN. They got him a memorial!

Ahhh a party! Sam smiling! Bucky roughhousing with the kids! HAPPINESS ;A;

“Welcome home Agent Carter.” Hmm this doesn’t seem like the best… ah, yep. Saw that one coming XD Look at that boss face though yow!! 

Also I’m hoping we get to see her at Peak Manipulative doing Cool Things in an Ends Justify The Means fashion because how dare that be reserved for men in superhero shows/movies? We love to see a woman about to deliver a smackdown.

closing thoughts: Lots of plot movement and action in this round, and finally an episode that was centered properly around Sam and the impact he has on the world. We saw an acknowledgement of real world struggles, steps taken to avert extremists but also steps taken to fix the core issue at the end. We see Sam saying you don’t want Karli 2.0 which reinforces the power of violent protest in otherwise peaceful movements and the fact that it’s listened to. We see a reclaiming of dignity, of owning one’s own power, of facing one’s fears and healing. We have an appropriate cliffhanger. Nothing in this episode was wildly surprising (though I though it was interesting that they went with moving the people out of the building, presumably to allow Sam greater flexibility to soar around and look cool, and also to buy them time so they didn’t get gunned down lol). On the other hand, there was nothing that I found needed to be surprising. It was a solid episode and I enjoyed it, and the resolution especially with Isaiah made me really happy. I’m eager to see what’s in store for Sharon, what Val and John are planning, and all the other shenanigans to come.

[et-lesailes]

safe place

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 3500 waow

summary: while clubbing in boston, you happen to see your favorite actor, none other than chris evans himself. unfortunately, his anxiety seems to be acting up again, and you can tell. you have a plan to help him out, and even though you know fully well you could embarrass yourself, you’ve gotta try it for him.

themes: this is just pretty chill n fluffy, highlights struggles with anxiety as well!

taglist: @viarogers , @evanstush , @chibi-crazy , @chalamet-evans , @world-of-losers , @songforhema, @sebabestianstan101 , @tanyam93 , @bval-1, @wonderwinchester , @little-miss-exo, @poerebel , @pining-and-tired , @gogomez-509 , @patzammit, @a-distantdreamer, @malthestorytellerblog, @rainbowkisses31, @jbug491writinghelp, @quaiderade

note: yeah kinda had sudden muse for this out of nowhere hence the longer word count, and i really luv discussing mental health so i thought it could be kind of interesting to talk about anxiety in this one. tbh i feel like it’s a lot of rambling so i apologize in advance! hope you all like it though!

It had been a while since you had been out with your girlfriends, but now that everyone was back home in Boston for at least some of the summer, it was a good chance to catch up with the friends you had made back in high school and reminisce on all of the good times. You had remained in Boston for work along with a couple of others, but everyone else had moved to all different parts of the country-- it seemed like a miracle in itself that everyone was able to make it back at the same time, but you had also all planned for this. To take the same week off from work, summer classes, whatever it was everyone was doing-- all to go back home and reconvene as one big group.

It was Friday night, and you were ready to hit the clubs. You inspected yourself in the mirror of your apartment where everyone had decided to gather to get ready, smiling satisfied at what you saw. A typical LBD was perfect for a night like this-- yes, it was cliche, but you didn’t care. You looked good. It was just the right amount of revealing, showcasing cleavage and legs that managed to look slightly lengthier thanks to the shoes you had picked for the night, and you had actually decided to do your hair for once. “Whew! You look sexy!” your friend Delia complimented, and you shot her a little grin. “Thanks, Del. So do you, red is really your color.”

After taking at least a couple more shots, you were all ready to go. Piling into an UberXL, you made your way deeper into the city where the best nightlife was, reveling in just the perfect amount of buzz and feeling ready for anything. You had been planning on dancing with a few guys tonight, maybe getting a little action in, but nothing serious. You definitely had not been expecting on meeting him.

_____________

As a group of young women, it was rather easy to get access to VIP. Besides, a majority of you had been brought up in Boston; by now, you knew people, had connections. You were currently lounging on a plush leather couch with a fifteen dollar drink in your hand, deciding to worry about the consequences the next day. Most of your friends were off dancing with other people they had befriended in the club, so it was just you and a couple others chilling, drinking, and talking-- and then you suddenly felt a rough nudge to your arm. “Ouch. Gabby, what the hell?” You wrinkled your nose though you were mostly exaggerating, looking to her with more amusement than anything. “What?” However, you were far more intrigued upon seeing the shock upon her face as she was staring at something a little further away. You followed her gaze, only seeing a crowd of people and iPhone camera flashes in the next couch area a few feet away. “What?” you repeated yourself, craning your neck trying to see what the big deal was. You could see a Red Sox cap sticking out from the center, but that was not anything interesting considering you were literally 3 miles away from Fenway.

And then the figure with the cap moved slightly, and you almost spit out your drink.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Gabby seemed to have found her voice again, her eyes widening. “That’s Chris fuckin’ Evans. Oh my God, should we go say hi?” You still had your eyes on him, unable to help it-- God, he was even more gorgeous in person. You were about to agree instantly, the awe practically taking over your inebriated mind. Of course you wanted to say hi. You had loved Marvel for years now, and Captain America was your favorite Avenger. Not only that, but you had taken a liking to Chris’ acting because of his Marvel movies, which had encouraged you to watch several others. Living in Boston, it had always been a hope of yours that you would somehow run into him, but you never imagined it would actually happen. And now here he was, standing about five feet away from you-- sure, he was surrounded by girls, but you and Gabby could totally squeeze through.

But then you stopped to actually look at him. Not in the fangirling, celebrity idolizing way, but just to actually look at him. You could see on his face that he looked a little tired. Like his smile was forced. It did not seem disrespectful to you, but more so that he was… overwhelmed. He was still taking pictures with every single girl around him, even making effort in having conversation, but you caught every single sign. The frequent looking around, eyes not focused on one thing or one person. How he’d take off his hat and run his hand through his hair, but practically every ten seconds. The slight inward tug of his bottom lip, and while he made it look sexy, it was obvious he was not doing it to be seductive. You had listened to interviews of Chris speaking of his anxiety, and considering you had faced it before and had friends who did as well, it was hard not to see the signs. Now, if anything, you were getting a little pissed at these clubbers surrounding him, even though you were almost quite literally going to be one yourself.

“He seems a little on edge right now,” you noted, frowning slightly. “Maybe we should wait a bit, yeah? It’s not like VIP’s that crowded anyways, so hopefully once those girls leave him alone we can have a chance to just say hi or something.” Gabby sighed loudly but nodded her head. “Okay, okay, fine. But I’m gonna head downstairs to tell the girls. You stay here and keep an eye on him!”

“Wait--” you started to say, not wanting her to spread the news, but she was already leaving in a tipsy fit of giggles and excitement. You sighed and looked back towards him. He seemed even worse than before, and it had only been five seconds.

And then an idea came to you, and you nibbled on your lower lip wondering if you could really be that drunk or if this was just actually a brilliant plan. No. No, no. It was crazy. Absolutely insane, really, and you would look like a total idiot if it didn’t work. Which it most likely wouldn’t.

And so you downed the rest of your drink, barely fazed by the bitter taste of alcohol at this point as you stood up, taking a deep breath. Walking right over, you called out as loudly and confidently as possible over the music. “Chris? Chris! Chris, is that you? Oh my God, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you last! I can’t believe you’re back in town, this is great!”

Everyone immediately turned around to look at you, and you prayed that your cheeks weren’t burning. God, what had you done? How drunk could you be? Part of you wanted to simply turn around and run away, it wasn’t like you’d ever see him again. But you watched his reaction, hoping your own expression was visible enough to him to show that you were very clearly hinting at him to go along with it. At least, if anything, this pressure was helping in somewhat distracting you from how damn handsome he looked up close. How was it possible that the camera didn’t do him justice when he looked so hot in all of his photos?

Yeah, maybe you still were a little caught up in how handsome he was.

He seemed a little confused for a second, but suddenly, the corner of his lips tugged upwards. Your heart raced faster. Was he about to laugh at you, humiliate you in front of his fangirls? Or was your plan working? “Holy shit,” he stated, lightly pushing himself through the small crowd to step closer to you. “I didn’t know you were still in town, that’s crazy! Fuck, how long has it been? A year? Two? I’m so happy to see you!” You could not believe it; there were at least a million thoughts running through your mind right now. He actually went along with it. He’s standing right in front of me now. He’s smiling at me, having a direct conversation with me. And he swore, oh God, he sounds so hot swearing…

You snapped yourself back to reality. This was not about meeting your idol at the moment, this was about helping someone with what could turn into a straight up panic attack if this kept on any longer. You smiled back at him brightly before looking around at everyone, clearing your throat. He might have had to be polite because he had an image to protect, but you did not. “Excuse me, can you please leave us alone? Chris is one of my friends and I’d like to be able to catch up with him. And I’m pretty sure half of you aren’t even supposed to be up here…” you commented with a raised eyebrow, eyes glancing towards the lack of VIP wristbands on their arms. There was a lot of scoffing, huffing, and bitchy glares, but they eventually turned away, all furiously typing away on their phones most likely posting photos on every social media site possible. 

You exhaled just as he did, looking up at him and clearing your throat. “I can, uh, leave you alone if you want. I swear I didn’t just do this to be able to talk to you too, I just noticed you looked a little… stressed.” You paused before quickly adding, “Not that I don’t want to talk to you. I mean, fuck, I love your shit, you know? I think you’re a great actor. But you shouldn’t be swarmed by fans or anything. So, yeah, I can leave.” After that word vomit, you decided the only proper way to do said leaving was flinging yourself off the balcony. But instead, he just smiled wider as he looked down at you, shaking his head. “No, no. Of course not. I really appreciate what you did for me back there, trust me.” He tilted his head, seeming curious. “Did I really look stressed?” You blinked but nodded truthfully, biting your lip. “It just looked like a typical bout of anxiety to me, if we’re being honest,” you told him, then wondered if that was somehow offensive. “I mean, I know just because you mentioned having it doesn’t mean you’re just always some anxious person, and I’m not trying to assume anything either but I’ve also had experiences with it too so it’s kind of easier to catch signs, you know? But if I was wrong then I’m really so-”

“You weren’t wrong,” he cut you off, but he was still smiling kindly at you. Damn, his eyes are beautiful. “Yeah, I was definitely feeling a little crowded back there. So thank you. Really. What’s your name? Can I buy you a drink?” You looked up at him somewhat shocked. “Me? Oh, please, you really don’t have to do that,” you shook your head, not wanting him to feel obliged to you in any means whatsoever, even though a drink would Chris Evans would probably be all you needed to die happy. “I’m sure you have friends waiting on you or something, really, it’s okay. I genuinely just wanted to help.” He raised an eyebrow, slightly stepping closer and it was taking you everything not to creepily deeply inhale from how good his cologne smelt. “And I genuinely want to buy you a drink,” he spoke with an amused grin, eyes twinkling even more than before. “Please. Or if you don’t drink, I can at least get you a--”

“Oh I drink.” You cut him off way too fast, then realized afterwards. “Okay, but like, I don’t mean I’m an alcoholic or anything, I just--” you finally just sighed loudly, looking down for a few seconds before looking up at him, silently cursing your brain for not allowing you to sober up at least a little. Despite the fact that it was solely your fault for having decided to chug a freaking vodka sour. “Okay, yes. Let’s do this. But-- unfortunately my friend is about to bring my entire horde of friends up here, so let’s try a different bar in this club.” He was laughing as he listened to you, but it did not feel mean or embarrassing; he simply seemed like he was actually having a fun time with you, almost as if he were a friend. He then blinked, curious and slightly confused. “In this club? Is there another one, besides the VIP one and the general one downstairs?” You laughed softly, nodding your head. “You gotta come back to Boston more! They just opened a rooftop one upstairs that’s way less crowded, but it’s pretty exclusive.” You raised a brow, continuing, “But I’m pretty sure we won’t have any problem getting in...” He chuckled and it was a deep rumble of heaven, but you forced yourself not to be annoying or even more triggering towards his anxiety. “Well, that would have been nice to know earlier, but I’m glad I at least get to know it from you. Lead the way….” he trailed off, waiting for a name to use. You giggled lightly at the slight flirtation, in disbelief that it was even happening but of course introduced yourself, lightly taking his outstretched arm and walking towards the staircase to the roof.

_____________

“Sebastian said that to you? Oh my God, that’s hilarious.” You laughed upon listening to a story he was telling you from a drunken night he, Sebastian Stan, and Anthony Mackie had shared in LA, a beam spread across your entire face. “You guys seem like such cute friends.” He laughed and nodded his head fondly, looking out towards the view. “Eh, they’re alright, I suppose,” he spoke playfully, and you giggled for the hundredth time within that hour, looking out towards the city lights yourself. 

The two of you had been chatting away, the peaceful nighttime air and breeze definitely helping you in sobering up a little more. Not that you had been absolutely trashed before, but you wanted to be as present in this moment as possible. You knew something like this would never happen again, but you were trying not to think about that. You loved that he was also asking you questions about yourself, and seemed sincerely interested, at that. He was so easy to converse with, so relaxed and thoughtful, you felt bad knowing what his anxiety could do to such a kindhearted person like him. You were sure he would have loved to be like this with all of his fans, but he had even explained to you himself that it was difficult for him to be in front of big crowds. “I know that seems kinda ridiculous coming from a Hollywood actor,” he said with a sigh, chuckling lightly, “but I can’t control it, ya know? I wish I could.” You nodded sympathetically, unable to even imagine what it would be like having to deal with such conflict in his current occupation. 

“But what about you?” he asked, surprising you again even though he had shown genuine interest in you and your life this entire time. “You said you’ve dealt with anxiety before, too?” You nodded with a sigh, taking a sip of your drink. “It used to be pretty bad for me in high school. I guess high school’s just a rough time in general, though,” you said with a laugh, shrugging your shoulders. “I still get attacks every now and then, but I’ve learned how to cope with it much better. Definitely better than hormonal, puberty ridden me, anyways,” you chuckled. He laughed too and you tried to ignore how adorable the sound as well as his face was when he did so. “Mm. Definitely don’t wanna reminisce on those days,” he playfully shuddered before tilting his head with interest. “How do you cope with it?” You could not believe Chris Evans was here asking you for advice, but you pondered this over. “I guess this is common sense and easier said than done, but I think I’m just a lot better at being able to mentally step back from a situation and think it through more logically when I’m feeling anxious. I just go through a rundown in my head and remind myself that it’s okay. It also helps distracting myself from it by talking to friends, like to call my best friend if I’m feeling down or weird about something.” You told him, barely biting your lip-- you had never really talked about such topics with any guys before, and it was crazy how it felt so comfortable with a celebrity. 

“Yeah? Well maybe next time you could call me, too?” he asked, and you were practically baffled. “Like, on my cell phone?” you asked rather dumbly, then closed your eyes as you rubbed your forehead. “Okay, yeah. Duh. My cell phone. It’s not like I own a landline. Who really does anymore, besides old people. But I mean--” you stopped and collected your thoughts briefly before looking up at him. “You’d really feel comfortable giving me your phone number? And you actually want to… talk?” He laughed again, even tilting his head back slightly before nodding with a wide smile. “Yeah. I mean, hell yeah, I do. I’ve had a lot of fun talking to you tonight.” He slid his phone out of his pocket, unlocking and handing it to you with a hopeful grin. You slowly smiled, nodding and taking it from him to input your number. Much to your delight, when handing it back he went straight to sending you a message, looking to you as he arched an eyebrow playfully. “You have my number now, right? You didn’t give me a fake one?” You blinked before laughing loudly, taking your phone out of your little crossbody bag. “Why the hell would I give you, of all people, a fake number?” You waved your phone at him to show him that the message had come up on the device, then looked down at it to save his number. You had assumed he just sent a “hi” or an emoji, something simple-- but you paused as your eyes scanned the words on your screen.

“Go on a date with me.”

You stared at it somewhat dumbfounded before looking up at him, knowing your cheeks were slightly red. “A-a date?” you asked; sure, the two of you had been hitting it off and flirting a little, but you had kept reminding yourself throughout the conversation that he was a celebrity. He probably had tons of girls in his life, you were someone who could just be an acquaintance. If that. But now he wanted to take you out on an actual date?

“I’m in Boston for the next few months. And I know that’s not permanent, but I really, really liked talking to you tonight, and.. I want to see if this works. Please.” You almost didn’t reply due to being too shocked that he was begging you to date him, but you quickly cleared your throat. “I’d… yeah, I’d really like that.” You admitted, feeling excited and terrified all at once. But that was how dating should feel, right? “But, um, how does this… work? Do you, like, not want me to tell anyone…? Do I not save your number at all, in case anyone hacks into my phone? Or should I just save you as a fake--”

“Okay, okay, don’t go all secret agent on me.” He interrupted you with a loud laugh, eyes twinkling fondly as he gazed down at you. “Honestly… I trust you. Call it a gut instinct, but I do. So tell whoever you’d like, or don’t. The only thing I’m more worried about is your own privacy, because it most likely won’t be respected if we’re not careful about this. But when it comes to people knowing about me taking you out, that’s fine with me. I’m allowed to have a love life, aren’t I?” he said with a smile, then glanced down at his phone. “Oh, shit. I need to go, my brother’s waiting for me. And I’m sure your friends are, too.” He looked at you and chuckled softly, probably at the disappointed face you wore. “Hey. Text me tonight, alright? Promise.” You smiled at that, arching an eyebrow playfully, teasing, “Wow, you’re already pretty needy, huh? Yikes, what am I agreeing to here?” He blinked before scoffing, though clearly amused. “You know what? Yeah, I am. And it’s your fault.” 

He suddenly took a light hold of your waist, gently pulling you closer to him and leaned down. You widened your eyes slightly but did not move away, looking up into his beautiful blue orbs instead silently confirming that you were alright with what was about to happen. 

You would remember that kiss for the rest of your damn life-- you were sure of it. 

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Hard to be a Stark

I’ve learned that some of these are going to be mini series things within the overall world. I’m thinking Steve’s will have one more part. I have songs for Loki, and Bucky around the corner so keep a look out for those! And the sequels to Sam’s and Steve’s. :)

Also shout out to my beta, @songforherma. They are awesome and handle my crazy very well. XD

Summary: Various Avenger x Reader one-shots with songs from musicals. In this one — Tony Stark has been doing the Ironman for a while now. Kissing babies, shaking hands, still flirting all the live long day, but it’s getting harder and harder to put up the facade. So what happens when his new assistant, you, see him having a drunken heart to heart? Song is “Hard to be the Bard” from Something Rotten! 

Honestly - this one is a bit more platonic. If I write a sequel, the romance stuff will show up there.

Warnings: Angst, Drunk Tony, bit of fluff, confessions, cussing, reference to violence

Word Count: 3477 words

Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my permission. :)

Stark. The name in itself held…

Power.

Money.

Authority.

Respect.

But with all those things came…

Assumptions.

Expectations.

Anxiety.

Mockery.

Hostility.

Ignorance.

And understandable sorts of coping mechanisms.

Then came the day he declared himself the Ironman - a superhero meant to protect civilians when no one else could. Gone were the weapons of probable mass destruction his company had become so well known for. Now they were replaced by one. A suit of armor in the hands of one man who could only do his best to protect his country. He wanted to believe he was doing the right thing, taking the suit, doing something with it that helped create peace.

Then New York happened. The Avengers.

Everything shifted. Assumptions and expectations skyrocketed. Anxiety twisted its gnarly claws around his heart, opening the door and introducing a new friend — Post-traumatic stress disorder. He could act like it wasn’t there and that it didn’t exist, but then came the outside opinions. It was easier to ignore them when he was just a Stark. He could put up a facade, act like it didn’t bother him because no one knew what was going on underneath.

You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.

Steve had cut him deep with that one. Mister Cap-sicle over here acting as he knew him. So what did he do?

I think I would just cut the wire. 

Of course, after Tony risked his life with that stupid nuke, Steve realized he wasn’t as correct in his assumptions as he first thought. Tony snorted, taking a swig of Scotch before setting it on the counter. “You know what they say,” he spoke to himself. “Just makes an ass of you and me.”

But he couldn’t hold it against the old man after all Steve was dealing with a  level of ignorance that came from being under the ice. His defense mechanism was mockery and hostility. Sitting in a chair, Tony stared stoically at the ironsuits across the room. They all looked like tin cans really, something made as a means for survival and turned into something greater. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms. There was always some new hostile just around the corner. That didn’t go away with the suits. If anything, he and the Avengers were greeted by more of them every day which included all of the superhuman threats that the world suddenly kept on facing.

And that was where the coping mechanisms took a turn from understandable to downright unhealthy. Pepper had told him that, commented on it and voiced her concerns like Pepper always does. She needed to work on her timing. That night he’d been black-out drunk and didn’t remember anything. JARVIS had to show him the footage the next day. Guilt wracked his body because he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember screaming at her or throwing the bottle. He didn’t remember telling her to get the fuck out or the fact that he fired her. No, he didn’t remember. And when he watched the video, watched his drunken self shoot a repulser blast to shatter the glass next to her? It was like he felt his heart shatter with it because he knew he didn’t remember that. He knew if he had been any soberer he wouldn’t have done it. He would’ve called Rhodey or Happy to get her out of there before he did something stupid.

However, that was a couple of months ago and now he had a new assistant. Some girl named Y/F/N Y/L/N. She was good at her job and Pepper made sure to find someone that could handle his narcissism and ridiculous schedule, somehow someone of that nature managed to fit the bill. Still - she wasn’t Pepper. He appreciated that she acknowledged that. She never tried to be anything other than herself and it quickly earned his respect.

Ding!

Tony shifted his gaze to the computer when the email popped up. Y/N had sent him his schedule for tomorrow. Brushing it with his pinky, he watched as it popped out of the tiny screen and presented itself as a hologram before him. He couldn’t hide the annoyed huff that escaped his lungs even if he wanted to. “My days are too busy for this,” he muttered, knowing everything was back to back with barely a moment to breathe. It wasn’t Y/N’s fault. She was trying to catch him up on the reality outside. “It’s making me dizzy, there’s so much I gotta do.” Standing up, he walked closer to the schedule and his face scrunched in distaste. “JARVIS, there’s lunches and meetings and poetry readings and great, more interviews.”

“Sir, it’s about learning to combine your roles as a Stark and Avenger in a more efficient manner.”

Tony grimaced. “Traitor,” he told the AI before seeing the photoshoot he had to get up far too early for. If he even went to bed for that matter. “Gotta pose for some photos and how I deplore sitting there for eternity. Then it’s off to the bar where my bartender friend wants to name another drink after me?”

“Would you like for me to call Y/N, sir?”

At this point, Tony had stopped listening to the AI. No, his mind was far too focused on this schedule. “Then it’s back to my room, where I resume my attempt to fix this shit.” At least she knew to give him time in the shop so he could work on the suits.

“Just you and your beer?”

Of course, JARVIS would have a witty retort for that. He always did. Sitting on the edge of his desk, he felt a cold wash over him as he admitted, “And the terrible fear that I might be losing it.” Staring at the bright hologram, the grim reminders, he shook his head and swiped it away. He could think about that later. I mean, it’s not that important.

—

Hiss…

The sound was what woke him from his uncomfortable slumber. He stretched, his spine and shoulders cracking from the effort before he realized he’d fallen asleep with an iron arm in his lap. No wonder his legs were tingly. A lack of blood flow did that. Shaking his head in a futile attempt to rouse himself further, his bleary eyes and yawn signaled that he wasn’t quite there yet. His gaze ran along the lab floor, making sure he hadn’t left a random weapon lying around and it was there his gaze found your little black heels on the floor, tapping patiently. Or was it impatiently? Eh, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Instead, he stood and set the arm on the counter, sending one of his infamous “Stark smiles” your way.

It was met with the most patient look he had ever seen.

You weren’t irritated?

Tony wholeheartedly meant that today’s events weren’t important. However, that was when we initially thought it. Seeing your face? Seeing the way your brow furrowed not in annoyance, but concern? Yeah, maybe he should’ve put a little more effort into going to sleep.

“Coffee?”

His gaze shifted to the steaming cup that was outstretched in your hand. He took it, mumbling a barely coherent ‘thanks’ before taking in your appearance. Pepper always wore skirts. You wore pants. She always wore blouses. You were what looked to be a simple tank top or t-shirt underneath a blazer. It reminded him of his look. Maybe Pep warned you that the skirts and fancy clothes wouldn’t survive around an Avenger?

“Did Jarvis let you down here?”

“Nope.”

Now he was confused. “Then how —“

“Ms. Potts thought it’d be beneficial to your habits if you had someone capable of hacking.”

“Wait,” Tony gaped, eyeing you with more interest than a curiosity now. “You-You're a —“ You smile and it knocks the wind out of him. Grumbling to himself, he takes a sip of coffee. Tony didn’t really like being bested. “I want to say I’m impressed, but also that means you hacked into advanced tech when you could have knocked.”

“Would you have opened the door?”

“She has a point, sir.”

Tony looked up at the ceiling, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t get an opinion.” He knew they were both right, but did that mean he had to admit it? Really? Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tony walked back to the bottle that had been carelessly left behind on the table. He poured some of it into his coffee before drinking most of the hot, bitter, and now strong liquid. “Seriously, you’re a hacker?”

“Just for fun.” You shrugged and he snickered. You reminded him of when he first got into tech and making new things. It was just for fun then. His gaze shifted to the lab and he knew that wasn’t the case anymore. Meanwhile, you had turned to the iPad tucked into your arm, scrolling through it. “So first on the agenda —“

“Nothing.” You looked up, the puzzled expression enough to make him feel satisfied. He missed being able to stoop an assistant, confuse them and leave them floundering. If that was how it was going to be, he was sure you wouldn’t last long.

Recovering from your confusion, you tucked your hair behind your ear and shook your head. “No, Mr. Stark, there won’t be any cancellations today. You need to get back into the world. Everyone wants to hear from —“

“I don’t care what everyone wants. I’m Tony fuckin’ Stark. When have I ever cared about what other people want?”

“When your mother asked you to say goodbye to her and your father for a holiday, but you didn’t.” There was a brief moment of silence as the matter-of-fact tone shifted to a much softer one and you added, “They passed away that weekend in a car accident.”

Tony froze, his back to you. He would’ve expected some assumption that he cared when he cut off weapons production for Stark Industries. He would’ve expected some ignorant comment that he cared when he took that nuke into space. Apparently, between the two of you, he had been the one to slip up. He’d been the one to assume. Trying to recover, a wry smile curved his lips as he asked, “Figure that out in your time hacking my software?”

“No, sir. Happy told me. After…After the incident with Ms. Potts, he felt that I needed a little preparation as to the job I was being hired for.”

Happy. Yeah, Tony would remember to talk with the man at a later time. Turning to face you, he downed the rest of his coffee before dropping it in the bin next to his desk. “You know, it’s hard. It’s really hard.”

Confusion. Again. “I don’t understand.”

He grinned and gestured to everything, a perfected swagger in his step as he told you, “I make it look easy, but honey, believe me. It’s hard.”

“Yes, I gathered that from the hangover and the crutch you’ve developed for alcohol in the morning.”

Ah, you had bit more bite than he expected. Looping an arm around your shoulder, he was surprised that you refused to tense under his touch. They did prepare you for the mess that was Tony Stark. Waving his hand, holograms of videos on youtube, news articles, and various photographs appeared to surround you two. You took it all in, more curious than confused now that you started piecing together what he was getting at. “It’s so incredibly hard, so inconceivably, unbelievably hard.”

He was whining, throwing a tantrum because he wanted his way. You both knew it, but he didn’t know the assistant he had. “It’s hard to be a Stark?” you asked, a hint of sympathy in your voice as you stepped out from under his touch. Your eyes studied everything. These weren’t just something randomly picked. He had these saved. He studied everything that was said about him and, judging by the negative articles, he believed more of the bad than the good.

“Honestly? I don’t know how I do it.” You looked at him, but he no longer studied you. Instead, he was staring at the images just above. His voice was soft as he admitted, “There’s only so much of me to go around.” Seeing him like this, open and vulnerable, you weren’t sure what to expect. Perhaps it was the booze that made him act like this? No, you’d seen the footage. Pepper was completely open about Tony’s faults and wanted you to be prepared. On booze, he was angry. He wasn’t vulnerable, but far from it. But as soon as you blinked, just once, just a brief moment, that vulnerability was gone. It was replaced by that Stark smile that graced all the tabloids and interviews. “I’ve got so many fans with so many demands.” He looked at you, smirking. “I can hardly go take a piss.”

“Can’t even pee? I can schedule a bathroom break if you’d like.”

Tony snorted. Alright, he knew he was going to like you. “Be it a hero-freak or another autograph seeker, they all want a piece of this.”

“It happens when one is in the spotlight as much as you are,” you told him honestly. Walking to the desk, you took a seat and looked over the schedule, deleting a couple of things here and there. He spun around, distracted and looking at everything. Tony was doing everything he could to look like he was okay, but just watching him showed you that he was fragile. Instead of a whole man, he’d had pieces of himself chipped away over the years and it seemed his kidnapping had taken out a huge piece. Now he was struggling to glue together what was left.

“It’s a cross that I bear,” he agreed. “I’m like Jesus, I swear!” You rolled your eyes and he pointed at you, reminding you that, “It’s a burden, but I suffer through it.”

“He is suffering,” came JARVIS’s voice, a somehow mocking tone preprogrammed into the AI.

It made you laugh, but the sound died on your lips when Tony sat on the edge of the desk, his leg bumping your knee. “It’s all part of the game, the trappings of fame, but somebody’s gotta do it.” You looked up from your schedule, tucking it into your chest as you eyed him cautiously. He seemed to be tipping on an edge of sorts. Wasn’t this the sort of thing someone discussed with a therapist? Not their newest assistant? “And I know,” he mumbled, shifting his gaze from the floor to you. He leaned forward, nodding to himself as if he were trying to convince his brain. “I know I gotta go and get back to the fans and fame.”

“Yeah, you do.”

He rubbed his temples, huffing as he pleaded, “Don’t make me do it. Don’t make me go through it.”

“Mr. Stark —“

“Oh, I need to get me a drink.” He rose, moving faster than you could have anticipated. Colliding with the chair, he sent you rolling a few feet as he grabbed the bottle he’d been nursing. Taking a few good swigs of the burning liquid, he exhaled slowly. “It’s hard.”

“You’ve said that a few times, Mr. Stark.”

“Well, it’s true!” His shout made you jump though he didn’t seem to notice. No, he was long gone in his drunken stupor. Part of you was starting to wonder if he was even sober when he first woke. Sitting on the floor, he stretched his legs out and rest his head against the desk. He looked spent. “I know being a Stark made me famous,” he whispered. “But being famous is just so not fun.” Waving his hand again, the images of Ironman vanished. Instead, it was replaced by trashy tabloids and photos of himself and news articles with various women, at random parties, creating an image that he’d forced himself to maintain. The hologram divided you two, creating a wall it felt you had to break through if you had any hope of surviving this job. Picking up the bottle, he pointed to one of the older photos before taking another swig. “What people just don’t understand is that fame is demanding. It’s mentally challenging and it’s a bore, jeez, it’s such a chore.”

“To sit in a room full of people?”

To prove yourself to a room full of people

He shifted his gaze, meeting your eyes. There was a fog over the welcoming brown of his irises. Tony was drunk. Truthfully, he admitted, “I hate it.” He exhaled, his shoulders slumping. Would he continue? You weren’t sure.

“You know, you’re trying to find some short line or an innovative idea and you’re pacing the floor and hoping for…Hell, maybe just a bit of divine intervention?”

“Is that what happened with the suit?” You were curious, your tech-savvy brain aching to understand how he created something so brilliant. You were a hacker, sure, but that was nothing like being an inventor.

Upon mentioning the suit, he offered the faintest of smiles. It seemed it might be one of the better topics for him to discuss. “That was the one little nugget. That one little spark. I was ready to die and then eureka, I found it and I was ready to start.”

Silence fell between you two and you allowed yourself to smile, to feel at ease. If he remembered this, it might help him adjust to working with you. There’d be a level of trust. If not, then you could work with the information you’ve learned and slowly gain some level of traction with him. Everything took time and patience and the man sitting across from you was no different.

Not even close.

“It’s hard,” you finally agreed, earning his concentration once more.

“Wouldn’t it be hard to do something as good as the last thing you did?”

“It was already great.”

Tony shook his head and you felt like you took two steps back. He didn’t see it that way. He didn’t see himself or any of his accomplishments that way. “It’s totally hard. I’ve got fortune and fame. Everyone knows my name.”

“Can’t help it.”

“But it’s still freakin’ hard.”

You watched him carefully. He was so fragile at the moment, unlike you’d ever seen. You never would have thought of an Avenger as frail. That was your mistake. That was everyone’s mistake. The world had come to put these guys on pedestals with no concern for the fact that they were still human and broken. They all had scars and emotions to process so that they could form some semblance of a less than shattered individual. It hurt having to see it first hand, but you knew that if you hadn’t, you’d never believe it.

“You’ve taught me a lot, Mr. Stark,” you whispered, looking down at the tablet and clearing the schedule. There was always tomorrow, but today… You looked back at him. Today wasn’t the day. “I’ve cleared your schedule and will leave you to the rest of your day.” The surprise on his face made you smile. You had been a couple of steps ahead of the genius. “On two conditions.”

“Name them.”

“One, no more alcohol. Spend the day tinkering on something.” You shrugged as you stood up, waving one hand through the air to clear away the mess of history between you two. “Maybe create something new or go for a drive — something you want to do. And two, get some sleep tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow morning and we’ll try again.”

His eyes studied you as if trying to find the sneaky detail you were hiding from him. All his friends did that. Instead of being upfront, they hid a detail that would later be used to help him in some sort of way. That wasn’t the case with you. No, you were nothing but honest. No secrets. No ploys. “No alcohol and get some sleep.” Tony chuckled, holding up the bottle to you before dropping it in the bin to his right. “You got a deal.”

Progress. That was what you felt when you saw him willingly take you up on your offer. There was hope for a structured, professional relationship. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Stark.”

Turning on your heel, you made your way to the door to give the man some peace and quiet.

“Tony.”

You paused, looking at him over your shoulder. “Sir?”

“Call me Tony.”

All you could do was nod before you left, closing the door behind you. Looking down at the schedule, you clicked on the title and slowly backspaced on the name “Mr. Stark”, replacing it with “Tony”. Well, surely it’d be a mostly professional relationship.

[afulltimelarrie]

Sorry it took me so long to answer this. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to answer. At the beginning in my head it sounded like ‘it’s ok, you are allowed to disagree, but... you are wrong’. LOL. But at the end you wasted some of your time to write me 4 asks, to explain me an article I actually read, that it felt like I owed you. I wish you came off anon, maybe I would have had another impression. 

Look sometimes i really don’t understand how the other countries weren’t immediately strict when you all had the Italian example. I guess it doesn’t hit you until it does. So forgive me if I have no patience for those paps looking for a hole in the rules because a lot of people need money to feed their kids but they are staying home. Otherwise none would be staying home, right? Sorry again if I have no patience for those big celebs that are not spending their quarantine in a 90 mq flat, like me, and don’t really need to go for a fuckin walk to get some fresh air... have you seen celebs’ mansions in LA? Even more if they can’t get a rid of these bad guys called paps, violating their privacy (not one, not 2, but 3 times...fuckin unlucky). Do you really think that Brands can use “treat people with kindness. HS.” as they please? Do you really believe Louis Tomlinson could use it under one of his merch if Harry was spotted wearing his cap? I think they will hang him by the balls in a heartbeat, if he ever dared. So i hope you see my point without needing more explanation on the topic. I like to discuss with people with a different opinion, it’s more interesting, but let’s not play the naive game.

Was I being too harsh with Harry? I think the great idea of a corona merch answered for me. I took time off, not to be harsh. Me, when I saw that T-shirt, was harsh, not the me ranting in the tags, take that for granted. What really got me about your ask was when you said “we have known him for 10 years and doing something like that is super out of character”. And there I realized that it’s been ages I really think that what Harry does is out of character and says and the people he works with and so the people he is surrounded by. I keep telling myself that everything after March 2019 was OOC too. I reached the point where I wonder what is out of character? My idea of Harry of Harry’s action? 

Probably it’s simpler, like my bestie yesterday told me: “He is just another artist fighting for the Olympus. Trying hard to impress with his music, style and various bs, but not his fault if he doesn’t add up to the high standards of him you have created in your head. Not his responsibility”. True but also... I hoped they weren’t that low either.  

In 2016 i vented so many times against Louis’ action, i think from January to the end of November I was lost, upset, disappointed, couldn’t figure out wtf was going on. It felt like we were in that all together, never got an anon showing me the light. That’s what I like about Louies. Your fave can do craps and you can call him out without needing to write a formal essay before where you remind everyone what a great person he actually is. The actions of your fave can suck (even big time.... like that Tshirt) and maybe there isn't even a valid excuse but there is hope that they can learn from that. Harry has everyone around him stuck in his ass, it's a crowded place, so I think he can survive if we are out of the tunnel and a little critical.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

I read your Steve and Logan bits and they are amazing. But consider this; Steve learns that Logan, who's older than WW1, has lost his memories. He gives a statement in an interview describing this man, this patriot who always looked after other people in his own gruff way, describes his side-burns, his claws, his cigars. And suddenly, people are calling into the station; "Yeah, think I met this guy a few years ago" "My granddad has this photo..." "So, In this bar one time..."

And all these people call in, sharing their own memories of this mysterious Cryptid named Logan who is apparently an immortal, grumpy, wandering dad-friend who's also a patriot and he helped punch out Nazi's and free camps and beats up assholes who don't respect women. And the whole while Logan is watching this from a TV screen with Kitty or Rogue holding his hand so gently, after they dragged him to the couch in a hurry. "You recording this?" "Don't worry, we won't let you miss a single word."

Okay but if we’re gonna do this we’re gonna do this HARDCORE HISTORIAN STYLE, and it initially comes up while Steve is being interviewed for a book about the Howling Commandos or a bit for the History Channel or something.  Because this person is like “Hey, there are a bunch of stories of you showing up somewhere with only one dude for backup, was that Bucky?”  And we’ll assume that this is before the whole Winter Soldier thing, so that’s not a hideously loaded question.  

And Steve kind of laughs and he’s like, “Oh, wow, God, that was actually this dude on detached duty from the Canadian special forces, he and I got sent on a bunch of missions together.  His name was Logan, he was the weirdest guy I ever met, and I knew some pretty weird guys, but he could take a hit even better than I could, so when the Howlies were laid up, they sent us out together.”  And he launches into this story about how one time he and Logan stole a plane complete with pilot and stormed a prison camp that was holding German Jews before sending them up to Poland, and the historian he’s talking to is taking frantic notes and trying not to drool because THIS IS A NEW GUY.  CAPTAIN AMERICA’S STORY IS METICULOUSLY WELL DOCUMENTED BUT NO ONE’S EVER MENTIONED THIS GUY.

There are no pictures, obviously, so Steve does a sketch for this historian, because he’s helpful like that and also because.  Like.  Listen.  Steve’s been through a lot of weird shit, and to be sure this Logan he used to know could take a bullet and keep coming no problem, but this dude’s probably been dead fifty or sixty years.  No harm in giving him a little posthumous glory, right?

So this historian runs back to her university and starts doing research on the Internet.  She reaches out to her coworkers first, then to anyone else she knows, then to the premier WWII and Captain America scholars of the world, and asks all of them “Do you happen to know who the fuck this dude is?”

And like, no, they don’t.  They’ve got no idea.  Steve’s not even totally sure what the guy’s real last name was, because Jameson is common as hell and there’s no Logan Jameson on the books.  So they start doing research into this WWII cryptid, and finally they reach an old woman who listens to her grandson’s boyfriend talk passionately about this new project he’s working on and goes “Oh, yeah, I met Cap in Germany one time, there was a guy with him who sounds kind of like what you’re talking about.”

This passionate history major immediately sends an email in all caps to his adviser and it just says “MY BOYFRIEND’S GRANNY KNOWS WHO WE’RE TALKING ABOUT PLEASE COME TO KANSAS ASAP THANKS” or whatever, because, listen, historians are Like That.  Speaking as someone who could easily have claimed to be a history major based on my thesis, I would have gone to Kansas in 0.2 seconds if someone had been like “What’s up we found that book you were after but we can’t take it out of the museum.”  It does stuff to you.  Trust me here.

So this woman tells the story of how Cap and his weird buddy broke her and her mother and father out of a temporary prison camp, and this history professor immediately takes all the tiny bits of information and starts asking around, looking for literally anyone else who knows this Logan dude.  He saved your ass one time in Paris?  He gave you some rations in Berlin?  He beat your grandfather’s ass in Russia?  He took three bullets for you?  You had a passing conversation?  This historian and his extremely pumped undergrad who just changed his senior thesis want to hear about it.

And then someone gets in touch with them and is like “Hey, I know you’re looking for WWII stories, but this guy saved my dad’s entire unit on the Somme and I have pictures?”  And someone else is like “Hey, I have a file from a Vietnam MASH unit for a Logan who looks like that guy, do you want it?”  And someone else is like “Uh, fuck all of y’all, I think this is him in the Civil War, what do I do about that?”

AND SO BEGINS LOGAN, THE HISTORICAL CRYPTID.

This undergrad is taking an extra year of college and basically getting a Bachelor’s degree in Tracking Weird Mutants Through History, and also his adviser is very lucky to be on tenure, because otherwise he would have been laughed out of the college three times by now.  But there is an absolute preponderance of evidence, is the thing, so it just turns into this massive quest to investigate exactly whether or not Logan the Mystery Dude was actually in China for the Boxer Rebellion or whatever.

Forget this being a collaborative effort between colleges, there are multiple continents involved in this by now.  Canadian government is under pressure to turn out their WWII special operations files for this guy from five different big name universities in five different countries, including their own.  Things are getting a little wild in academia.  Steve’s been interviewed nine times and he has a filter set up in his email specifically to catch stuff from the University of Toronto.

It takes a little bit for Kitty’s bubbe to get a phone call.  Kitty’s bubbe has been living a quiet-ass life in Illinois and likes it that way, especially because her last name is not Pryde and therefore Kitty and her weird friends can crash at Bubbe’s house whenever they’re in the area without any trouble.  It’s fine if her granddaughter wants to run around in spandex and save the world and shit, she’s honestly much more chill about it than Kitty’s parents, but Bubbe does not care for news crews in her neighborhood thank you very much.

But so eventually this nice old Ashkenazi woman gets a phone call from an extremely pumped undergrad who read a very brief statement she gave in a news article forty years ago about Captain America, who she is very grateful to for breaking her, her older sister, and their little brother out of a prison camp during WWII and also helping them get across the border.  Did she happen to see anyone else?  Why yes, very polite young man, the Captain had another man with him, he was very grumpy but he let my brother ride on his shoulders so I liked him very much.  That’s great, would she mind if someone came and talked to her about that?  No, very polite young man, not at all, when would work for you?

And she gives Kitty a call that night, because she gives Kitty a weekly call since Kitty and her parents are going through a rough spot to the tune of “please God stop risking your life//listen I’m saving people I’m not going to stop learn to cope”.  Bubbe mentions offhand that she’s going to have a talk with this very polite young historian about the Shoah and Kitty’s understandably a little concerned for her bubbe’s mental health, and asks some questions.  

So Kitty hears her bubbe out in increasing degrees of shock, hangs up the phone, and immediately goes and does an extensive google.

Then she goes and hammers on Logan’s door until he says to come in, slams her computer down in front of him, and says “Holy shit, Logan, why didn’t you tell us that you knew Captain America?”

“Uh, because I mostly didn’t,” Logan says, wary.  “Don’t remember that much.”

“You might want to take a look at this, then,” Kitty says, and Logan looks through her fifteen tabs and thanks her and calls the university that seems best informed.

Which is the story of how an extremely pumped undergrad gets a phone call from the object of his thesis that opens with “This is gonna sound pretty fuckin’ wild, but my name is Logan and I’m pretty sure you can catch me up on the last hundred years better than I can.”

Oh, and then Logan and Steve meet up again and it’s very nice and sweet and that undergrad gets a full ride to the PhD program of his choice.  The full ride’s name is actually Tony Stark, who’s doing a favor for Steve, who’s doing a favor for Logan, who’s secretly doing a favor for the undergrad, but no one really knows that.

[viewfromthevault]

Fallout OC Interview

Thanks to the lovely @tarberrymentats for the tag 💜

Rules

Choose an oc

Answer the questions as that oc

Tag 5 people to do the same

I’ll tag @nonbinaryrobot @rogue-lavellan @drneverland @commonwealthcommoner and whoever else wants to do it because I never know if I’m bugging people by tagging them or not 🤣

Gonna do this with Lesley

Okay so I got waaayy carried away and thought maybe I should throw this under a read more for the sake of your dashboards.

1. What is you’re name?

“Lesley Elvira Mathews. Not a real fan of Elvira so don’t call me that unless you wanna get whacked.”

2. How old are you?

“Shit, I dunno. I was nineteen when I got the boot. How many years ago was that now?”

(Lesley’s timeline is a bit funky at the moment. I wanna say this takes place after main story stuff and before fo4, so she’ll be in her early twenties)

3. What do you look like?

“A fucking legend.”

4. Where are you from? Where do you live now?

“See, I thought I was born in Vault 101, but actually I was born somewhere in the wasteland then grew up in the vault. Not a fun environment to grow up in, to tell you the truth. A lotta assholes livin’ there, except Amata.

“I’m happy to say that now I live in my very own house in Megaton. It’s not a super private place, though. Gotta few couch surfers.”

5. What was your childhood like?

“Could’ve been better, actually. Like I said before, there were a lot of assholes in 101. Had a real hard time making friends. People liked to call me the problem kid because I got in a lot of fights, but I didn’t start all of them and those fuckers had it coming. Grown-ups complained about me all the time and the Overseer hated my guts, but that’s ok because I hated his about the same.

“I guess it wasn’t all bad, though. My dads were pretty great, even when James was too busy being James. Granny Palmer used to look after me when they were both busy, she was really nice. And then there’s my best friend, Amata. If it weren’t for her I probably would have went nuts in there.”

6. What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?

“I currently do work with Reilly’s Rangers and the Regulators. I get to run around the wastes and kill bad guys for money?? They had me at ‘caps.’

“I used to be part of the Brotherhood of Steel, though I don’t remember actually signing up or anything. They dropped my sorry ass as soon as they thought I wasn’t useful anymore. Bastards.

“This one lady also said I could be part of this Railroad group if I didn’t tell this fancy suit where this android person went. Still waiting for them to call me back.”

7. Tell me about your best friend.

“It used to be Amata, but we went our separate ways. Good terms, though. The fella that fills that role now is the bee’s fuckin’ knees. Tall, knows his way around a gun, kinda cranky, but he has a secret softy side.”

8. Do you have a family? Tell me about them!

“Well, the family I told you about earlier kinda fell in on itself when James fucked off. Jonas was murdered and I got stuck with the blame, James zapped himself with enough radiation to ghoulify a super mutant. Last I checked, Granny Palmer was ok, as okay as you can be when your only grandson is killed. I don’t know if she’s still around. I also had a mom once, she died about five minutes after I was born.

“The family I got now? Pretty bomb. There’s aunt Cross, though I don’t get to see her much anymore, Butch who surprisingly is like a brother to me, Fawkes the coolest meta human around, Dogmeat the goodest boy, that little urchin from Lamplight that shows up now and then to drink all my Nuka-Cola, and Charon of course. I’d say Wadsworth, too, but he’d take offense to that.”

9. What about partner or partners?

“Oh man he’s fuckin’ great. Lots of people are scared of him, but he’s real sweet when you take the time to know him. A complete badass that I would absolutely die for. A lot smarter and funnier than people give him credit for. He’s one of the few people who actually listens to me and doesn’t get mad when I get to yakking too much. Is willing to stick his neck out for me, not that I want him to do that, mind you, but it’s real nice to know he’d never throw me to the wolves like others would. Nice ass... what were we talking about?”

10. Have you ever heard of the Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?

“Uh, yeah? I just told you I was with them once. To be honest, though, they’re far from perfect. Sarah and the old man are pretty great, and Cross of course. But there’s a lot of shit that goes down without the old man knowing about it. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear the guy died under ‘mysterious circumstances’ and they put up some wet mop in his place.”

11. Who are your enemies, and why?

“Jeeze who isn’t? I don’t know who’s paying them, but the Talon Company is dead set on killing my ass. Their client could be slavers since they hate me with a passion. Arefu doesn’t like me for some reason (ooc: thanks for the gitch, game). I don’t have enough fingers to count this shit out.

12. What about the Enclave?

“Those motherfuckers are lucky I wasn’t at Adams Airforce Base. I’d teach them the meaning of the word slaughter.”

13. How do you feel about super mutants?

“They’re real fun to fight with, but it’d be nice if they didn’t always try to shoot you on sight you know? Why can’t they be more chill like Fawkes?”

14. Have you ever fought a deathclaw?

*points at stump* “The fuck do you think?”

15. What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?

“Me and a bunch of folks took over a spaceship once.”

16. Do you like fighting?

“Does a yao guai shit in a landfill?”

17. What’s your weapon of choice?

“I’m a real fan of stabbing shit, so I mostly work with swords. I have this neat ass one I made myself from schematics I got from vampires, don’t ask, I like to call Shishkebab. That baby has a funky little function where the blade catches fire, which is pretty damn cool if you ask me. I also got a neat sword with an electrified blade from a weird pre-war bunker thing.”

18. How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L.?)

“I’m fast, strong and I talk real good.”

[S-7 P-5 E-7 C-7 I-5 A-6 L-5]

19. Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think of them?

“Yes, I grew up in one. Keep up! As for the others I’ve seen, I guess I should consider myself lucky that I was stuck with the one I was. Vault-Tec is fucked, man.”

20. How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it effected you?

“Rad-X and Radaway are pretty expensive, so for the most part I just try to stay away from it. I did intentionally get super sick from radiation once, but as far as I know it didn’t have any lasting effects.”

21. What’s your favourite wasteland critter?

“Dogmeat. He hasn’t tried to eat me yet.”

22. What’s your least favourite wastelad critter?

“Fucking mirelurks. With their big meaty claws and their gross shells, swimming arounf waiting to get you by the ankle. I hear they have more legs in other parts of the country.”

23. How do you feel about robots?

“I guess they’re ok. I wouldn’t put a whole lot of trust in them, but if they don’t bother me then I won’t bother them.”

24. How many caps do you have on you right now?

“Not enough for you to wanna mug me for after this wraps up if that’s what you’re asking.” (she’s fucking broke)

25. Nuka-Cola or Sunset Sasparilla?

“Sunset Saspawhat?”

26. Do you do chems?

“Only when I need to, they’re too expensive otherwise.”

27. Do you ever think about the pre-war world?

“What is there to think about? They fucked up the world and now we have to deal with the consequences.”

28. What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?

“Maybe if I got to Dad sooner he wouldn’t have died. Maybe neither of them would have died. I don’t know.”

29. What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?

“I guess my biggest achievement would be getting to where I am now, finding a place and people who like me because I’m me. Learning that I can be loved. Mushy shit.”

30. What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?

“To be able to live freely and happily no matter how you look or act. To always have an adventure waiting around the corner. I just want us all to have a good time, you know?”

[you-a-southpaw-doll]

Graduation ~ A Negan!AU One-Shot

Summary: It’s graduation day for Negan...but the one person, Leigh, that he wants to be there. Or is she? He thinks she’s overseas, serving in the United States Navy, but little does he know, she has a surprise for him for graduation.

Warning(s): Fluff. Language. Angst. Explicit Smut - masturbation - male, oral - female receiving. 

Word Count: 8,014.

Author’s Note(s): This is set from Negan’s point-of-view. It is also for the Reader too, but the Reader’s name in this story is Leigh. @mychemicalimagines and I tag-teamed this story over Christmas break. 

Relationship(s): Negan x Leigh [Reader] (boyfriend/girlfriend)

Characters: Negan. Leigh (OFC). Reader.

Taglist: @negans-network @thamberlina @prettyboynegan  @mychemicalimagines

Story Time:

Negan’s Point of View

“Class dismissed! It’s great to say that for the last time.” My college professor says, closing his book. “Have a great Graduation tomorrow!”

He’s still talking, but I ignore him as I jump out of my seat, and run out of the classroom. Today is Thursday which means I get to see you, my beautiful fuckin’ girl, Leigh. We’ve been dating for almost nine years. We met for the first time way back in fuckin’ sixth grade, and by time eighth grade came ‘round, I knew I was in love with you.

I finally got the fuckin’ courage to ask you out. When you said yes, I knew I was a fuckin’ goner. After high school. You encouraged me to go to college, and I did, on a baseball scholarship. You decided to join the United States Navy since you’d always dreamt ‘bout being a Navy SEAL, since you were five years old.

I encouraged you, kept you motivated throughout your basic training, and now, here we are. Nearly nine years of being together. You coming up for re-enlistment, and me ‘bout to graduate fuckin’ college with two degrees - one in history and another in business. 

You've been deployed in another country overseas for the last seven months so I haven’t seen you in a hot minute. It fuckin’ hurts that I can’t see you every day. We used to see each other every damn day in middle school and high school, but since then it’s been a wee bit hard to see one another every day. 

That’s why I love our one day a week where I can talk to you for a few hours. I’m pushing through all the other classmates, trying to get to my dorm so I can answer your first video message. If you miss the first call then there’s a chance you might not be able to call again. 

I had to miss last week’s call because of the stupid, fuckin’ finals we had in the class beforehand. I make it to my dorm room and I push open the door. The door flings open so hard that it hits the wall. I slam it behind me. I run over to my laptop and start it up. 

My legs start bouncing, waiting for the screen to start loading. When I finally get the laptop up and running, I quickly log in to Skype. I see the little green dot next to your military account. I notice that you didn’t call yet so I didn’t fuckin’ miss it.

Thank god!

Suddenly, my computer starts to ding and your military photo pops up. I quickly fix my appearance and push accept on the computer. Your beautiful face appears on the screen. You have the biggest smile on.

“Hey, doll.” I say, smiling at you.

“Hey, sweetie. I missed you so much.” You say, as your eyes start filling up with tears.

“I missed you so fuckin’ much too, baby.” My smile never falters.

“Today was your last day right? Graduation is next week?” You ask me, wiping the few tears.

“No, they fuckin’ changed it to tomorrow.” I answer, putting my head down a little.

“What?!? I got my leave approved for next week!” You say, as your eyes widen.

“I know, sweetheart.”

“So I can’t even see you graduate!” You say, putting your hand in your hair.

Your hair’s finally down. The only time you’re allowed to put your hair down is off hours but usually, you keep it up in the tight bun that the military requires. I love when your hair’s down and free. It’s always so soft.

“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it, doll, we can celebrate when you get home,” I smile through the computer at you.

You frown, “But, Negan-“

“No buts, Le. I’ll be fuckin’ fine as long as I get to see your sexy ass next week” I smirk at you. “I’m a big boy.”

“Yes. Yes you are,” You smirk right back.

We talk for another half hour until you have to get off. This is always my least favorite part. I fuckin’ hate saying goodbye.

“I’ll see you next week, doll. You’ll finally be able to see the house I got us.” I say, smiling, thinking about the house we saved up for three years to pay for.

You gave me specific things you wanted in a house and I wrote them down. I went to 4 houses before I found one that had everything you wanted in it. I can already tell this house will be one we stay in until we're old and grey. The beautiful house has 4 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, a huge space you can use as a studio for your photography.

I know how badly you want a space that you can use for your photos. In that studio, there’re some wooden shelves for books so we can also use it as alibrary, since we’re both always fuckin’ reading. I even made sure that in that room, there is the window seat you’ve been begging me to find.

It looks out over a huge bay window at this fuckin’ amazing view of the lake behind the house that has a willow tree resting at the top of a small hill. I can just picture the two of us out there, cuddling and reading under that tree. Or, us chasing little kids ‘round. 

This was the kinda house I’d always dreamed ‘bout having one day, and I know you do too.

“I’m not gonna tell you much ‘bout the house, babe, but I will tell you ‘bout this amazin’ fuckin’ view. Outta this huge window, you can see the lake. It’s so fuckin’ pretty - not as beautiful as you, but still pretty. It even has a willow tree where we can sit under and cuddle.” As I tell you this, your eyes light up.

The smile on your face just makes my heart swell. I love seeing your beautiful fuckin’ smile, and I’d do anything and every-fuckin’-thing I could to make sure that you always smile at least three times a day. I wish you could have seen the house before I put down the down payment on it.

But, I know you’d love it. It’s what you’ve always wanted in a house. It really is fuckin’ perfect for us. After a few seconds of thinking ‘bout the house, I notice your smile gets smaller and smaller until it actually drops. My heart suddenly cracks at the sight of you frowning. 

I have always, and will always, hated the sight of you being even the littlest bit sad.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask, looking confused into the laptop camera.

“I’ve gotta go...” You whisper back to me.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. As I’ve said you’ll be back here in a fuckin’ week, and I’ve already got a huge plan waitin’ here for you,” I say, winking at you.

“Bye, babe. Don’t forget what airport I’ll be at.” You say, smiling brightly at me, thinking about my plan.

“I would never forget that, babygirl. See you later,” I kiss the tips of my fingers and put them toward the camera on my laptop.

You wink and kiss your fingers doing the same thing. When the screen goes black I stare at my reflection, my smile fading quickly. I now have to wait another week before I get to see your face, but at least this time it will be in person. I hesitate, but finally close my laptop. 

I lean back in my seat, bringing my hands up to cover my face. Letting out a deep sigh, I run my hand over my slight five o’clock shadow. I can’t believe I’m fuckin’ graduating tomorrow. I was planning on it being next week, which is what you were planning on too.

But, the college had to go and fuck everything up by moving the graduation date up a week earlier. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to finally get the hell outta here and get a start on my future. The future I see with you. But, at the same time, since the date’s been moved, it means you won’t be there at my graduation.

And, we were both looking forward to you being there. You’ve told me, countless times, how proud of me you are. For sticking with the whole fuckin’ schooling thing, and whatnot. But...since you won’t able to be there tomorrow, I ain’t got no one else who will be. 

I ain’t got any family left.

Ma died when I was ten years old, from a drug overdose. Since my old man was never ‘round, and I had no other kin, I was put into the United States government’s care. I bounced ‘round from foster home to foster home until I finally aged out of the system. 

I was a hellyun, growing up.

Until I met you. 

You changed that ‘bout me. Made me see the good in life. Made me realize that maybe there was something to this whole living thing. That’s why last month I began to think about making you mine, officially. I was at the mall and passed by this really fuckin’ expensive ring store.

I just went inside to look around, get some kind of idea of a present to give you when you came home. Passing by this counter something caught my eye. After taking a look inside at the rings, I found this beautiful fuckin’ engagement ring, the diamond was huge. 

It wasn’t flashy and gaudy like other rings in this store. It was just the right size for you. It was simple, yet stunning, perfect for a simple, but oh-so-fuckin’ beautiful girl. I could already picture this ring being on your small finger. I checked the price, and holy-fuckin’-shit was it super expensive, but it will be worth it, seeing the smile on your face.

I take another look at my closed laptop and sigh. The next week will kill me but I can do it. I stand up out of my computer chair and take a look around my room. It’s pretty much already packed up except for my computer stuff and some of my clothes. 

My graduation gown and cap is hanging up on the backside of my door, with my Phi Theta Kappa cords hanging with them. I grab my last pair of pajama bottoms and walk toward the bathroom connected to my dorm room. I put my clothes down on the sink and turn the water on in the shower. 

After testing for the right temperature, I quickly undress. I step into the shower and put my head under the water. The hot water feels amazing against my cold skin. I lean my head against the wall, just letting the water fall all around me. Tomorrow is going to be the best and worst day ever. 

Best because I’m finally getting out of this fuckin’ hell hole, but worst because I don’t have you, my personal fuckin’ cheerleader, cheering me on as I get the diploma put into my hand. After letting the water fall around me for a few minutes, I finally bring my head up off the wall and grab a wash rag and my body wash. 

I wash the more important parts of my body and grab my shampoo/conditioner combo and wash my hair. It’s getting too long for my liking but you always say you love when my hair gets longer. I rinse my hair and decide I’ve spent too much time in here. 

I turn off the water and grab the towel I have hanging on the wall beside the shower. I wrap it around my waist and step out, looking into the mirror. I rub my stubbly chin, turning my head side to side. You’ve said before you love when I grow out my beard, but should I shave for graduation?

Fuck it. I’m leaving it to grow for when you come next week. I quickly dry off and put on my pjs, hanging up the towel again. I leave the bathroom, turning both the bathroom and bedroom lights off. I grab my phone from my side table as I just flop onto my bed. 

I push the power button on the phone, a picture from Halloween last year popping up on my screen. Wanting to feel like kids again, you made me dress up as a fuckin’ vampire, while you were a witch. We have huge fuckin’ smiles on our faces as your mother took the photo. 

I remember when she took that photo. I’d just put the vampire teeth in after they fell out for the hundredth time, when she said ‘Smile!’. We both looked up and saw her camera and couldn’t help but laugh. When we first started dating, you made me meet your parents since we were really young and couldn’t do much alone yet. 

From that day on, they’ve treated me like one of the family. Always making sure I had something to eat before I went home. Got me Christmas presents our first Christmas together. Even let me sleep over a couple of times when it got super cold out. In separate rooms, of course. 

I unlock my phone and go straight to my photo app. Before you left, you made an album of just pictures of us. Scrolling through I find a photo from our 7th anniversary. We went to the beach for the weekend and you wanted to go straight to the water as soon as we got there. 

I didn’t mind. I just wanted to see the smile on your face. When we got to the beach, you ran straight to the water. Standing at the edge, you stared toward the never-ending water toward the setting sun. Water washing over your ankles, you glanced over your shoulder at me. 

That just so happened to be the exact moment I decided to take the photo. It was breathtaking then, just as it is at this exact moment I’m lookin’ at it now. I keep scrolling through the photos, laughing at all the dumb ones you’ve taken over the years.

Smirking at all the sexy photos I’ve taken behind your back, but there is one photo that really caught my eye. Toward the end of the album, there’s a photo I have never seen before. It looks like it was taken the day you left for deployment. 

I can see the airport in the background so that could have been the only day it was taken. I’m standing in front of you while you’re wearing your uniform, and since I’m so much taller than you, I’m looking right down at you. Your hair is up in its bun and my hands are on your cheeks. 

I can tell I’m wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling that day. We’re looking directly into each others eyes. From the angle of the photo, I can see the love that was in your eyes that day. I remember whispering ‘I love you. I fuckin’ promise I’ll be right here waiting for you. 

Nothing will fuckin’ stop me.’ I leaned down and softly kissed your lips. I never wanted to let you go but I knew that day I had to. I wrapped my arms around you and held you to my chest as your plane was called over the intercom. You looked up at me and whispered, ‘I’ll see you soon.’ 

You said that every time and it was never soon enough. I kissed you again and you had to walk away from me. I watched you go and I never left that spot until you were fully out of my sight. That’s when I walked out. I sigh to myself. Your mom must have taken that photo because I found my phone in my car after I dropped her off. 

I look through the album once more before my eyes get too heavy for me to keep open. I stare at that photo once more as I fall into a deep sleep.

I wake up to the double vibration of my phone letting me know that I have a text message. With my eyes still shut, I reach ‘round for my phone. The moment my fingers curl ‘round the edges of the small device, I pull it towards me. I roll over onto my left side and crack one eye open.

The notification that I see first makes my heart beat ten times faster, and I quickly rub the sleep outta my eyes. I sit up on the small, twin-sized, college issued mattress and prop myself up against the wall. Letting my finger hover over the notification for a moment, I finally swipe to the right to open it.

It pauses for a moment, and I press my thumb against the home button, so that it can recognize my thumbprint and unlock my phone. The moment it does, the app opens, and I can’t help but smile when I see the message.

“Good mornin’, honey. I can’t talk long, but I just wanted to say that I’m super proud of you. Today’s gonna be great. Even though I’m not able to be there, I’m still there with you, babe. I’m always with you. I can’t wait to see you next week. Then! You can show me your degrees! Both of ‘em! Alright. I’ve got to go now. I love you, Negan. See you soon, honey.”

A tear or two falls down my face and catches in the scruff lining my chin. I reread your message to me. I had downloaded the Skype app on my phone during your last deployment. I realized that sometimes you’d be able to send me a text, and I didn’t want to miss it, in case I didn’t have my laptop on me, so I downloaded the app.

Seeing that you’re still active on Skype, I quickly type out a quick text to you.

“I love you too, sweetheart. I can’t wait to fuckin’ see you. Please be careful and come home to me, safe and sound. I know you’re always with me. But, just know that as soon as I fuckin’ see you again, I’m pullin’ you into my arms and not lettin’ you fuckin’ go for a long time.”

My heart swells as I see the three little dots bounce on your side to show that you’re typing something. I wasn’t expecting you to reply to me.

“I’ll be counting on it, Negan. ;) And, I’ll always come home to you. Now, go get ready for graduation. And, send me a photo of you all dressed up in your cap and gown, yeah? I wanna see.”

I chuckle. “Yes, ma’am!”

I send a kissy face emoji to you before I hop outta bed. I strip down to nothing, as I walk over to my duffle bag that has a few clothes in it, since everything else is already packed up. I grab a clean pair of boxers, put ‘em on, and then walk over to where I have my outfit hanging up for today.

Before I get dressed through, I decide to go ahead and brush my teeth. While I’m doing that, I hear my phone start chiming with the signature Skype ringtone. I rush outta the bathroom, toothbrush still in my mouth, and paste on my lips. I scoop my phone up, and swipe the notification to the right, to open it, without really reading it.

A moment later, your face appears on my phone. My mouth drops, making my toothbrush wobble, which has you giggling. I hurry back into the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste in my mouth. I glance at my phone. You have your camera close to your face so I can’t see your background, but that’s ok.

“Baby?” I ask, quietly. “What are you doin’? I thought you had to go?”

You tilt your head to the side in a mini shrug. “I managed to snag a few minutes away from everythin’, and I really wanted to see you today.”

I smile. “Well, I’m glad you called. Although, I’m getting dressed. You mind fuckin’ watchin’ and talkin’ to me while I get ready?”

You giggle. “I don’t mind one bit. What do you have on already?”

I pull the phone away from the area of my face and tilt it down so you can see what I have on, which is just a pair of boxers.

“Damn. I’m really glad I called.” I hear you say.

I chuckle. “Me fuckin’ too, sweetheart.”

I place the phone on the bathroom counter, propping it up so that I can still see you and you can see me while I get dressed. I go to pick my toothbrush up to finish brushing my teeth when I hear you say something.

“Either you just woke up, and that’s just your mornin’ wood, honey. Or, you really are excited that I called.”

I laugh and glance at you. “I did just wake up, and that is my mornin’ wood. But, trust me, I’m really fuckin’ excited that you called.”

You blush. “You gonna be that excited when I see you?”

I nod. “Hell, I’ll probably be more excited and bust a nut. You know how to get me worked up. Speaking of which, I gotta fuckin’ take care of this, doll.”

“Can I watch?”

I take a deep breath in. “Well, shit, sweetheart. I ain’t one to deny you. You know that. You really wanna watch?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip in that way you know gets me all hot and fuckin’ bothered. I drop my toothbrush on the counter, and settle down on the edge of the tub. I got lucky, being an RA for my dorm, that I got hooked up with a good room that had an attached bathroom with a tub.

I get my phone propped up on the toilet seat and tug my boxers down to my ankles. I keep my eyes on you as I curl my fingers ‘round myself. With you watching, and me thinking ‘bout all the things we’re gonna do when you get back, I jerk myself off. 

You can tell I’m getting close, ‘cause you make a little sound low in your throat that has me tugging harder.

“Cum, babe. Cum for me.” You whisper.

At your words, I do exactly as you ask. I shoot my load all over the bathroom floor, letting out a deep groan in the process. My body shakes as my orgasm tears through me. I have to grip the edge of the tub tightly so that I don’t fall. When my orgasm finally subsides, I glance at you, still on my phone, with my eyes drooping.

“Damn. I’ve missed seeing that.” You murmur. “That was hot as shit.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, well. You’re hot as shit.”

You blush. “You gonna do that again for me in person?”

I nod. “Mmhhmm. If you want.”

“Hell yes.”

I chuckle. “Alright. Let me clean up the mess you made me make real quick.”

You laugh. “Ok.”

I clean up the remnants of my orgasm. Once that’s done, I pull my boxers back up to my hips. I finish brushing my teeth and then grab my outfit for today. You stay on the phone with me as I get dressed. I put on a pair of nice blue jeans, and a black button up shirt. 

I roll the sleeves up to my elbows. I roll ‘em in the same way you have to roll your sleeves for your military uniform. After you taught me the way to do that, I liked it, so I started rolling my sleeves in that same manner. Once the shirt’s buttoned, I tuck it into my pants. 

I button those, zip ‘em up, and tighten my belt ‘round my waist. I loop my dark, heather grey tie, the one you got me a couple years ago, ‘round my neck and tie it properly. I fix the collar of my shirt before reaching for the light grey vest and putting it on. 

After it’s buttoned, I fix my hair. Normally, I’d go with bed head, but I’ve got you watching me at the moment, and it is graduation, so I wanna look kinda good. I run my fingers through my hair, making it look a little messy, but it’s a neat messy. 

I grab my chapstick and apply some to my lips. They’ve been really chapped here lately, and I don’t want ‘em to be all cracked and whatnot when I can finally kiss you again.

“Damn, honey. You sure do clean up nice!” You say.

I chuckle. “Thanks, sweetheart. I’m probably gonna wait and put my cap and gown on till I get over to the auditorium.”

“Oh. Well...you think you could put it on for me real quick? Just so I can see?”

I smile. “Anythin’ for you, doll. Any-fuckin’-thin’ for you.”

I do as you want, and once I’ve got the cap and gown on, you smile.

“There’s my man.” You say.

I pick the phone up, blushing slightly, and hold it so that you can see my face.

“Negan, I really am fuckin’ proud of you.” You say, your voice full of pride and love. “And, I know you said you didn’t want any gifts or anything for graduating, but I’ve got somethin’ for you. You’ll get it later. After the ceremony. Ok?”

“Yes, ma’am. But, all I want is you.” I mumble.

“I know, honey. And, you’ll have me soon ‘nough. I promise.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You give me a small smile. “I’ve got to go now, ok? But, you go out there, and you show ‘em who’s fuckin’ boss. Alright? Do that for me, yeah?”

I nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I love you, Negan Alexander Morgan.”

I blush at your use of my full name. “And I love you too, sweetheart. So fuckin’ much.”

You blow me a kiss and I repeat your actions. We say our goodbyes and I lock my phone, setting it on the counter. I place both my palms against the smooth surface, and try hard not to let the tears fall. I gotta be strong. I’ll be seeing you soon. 

I just gotta make it a few more days.

“Negan Alexander Morgan. Bachelor of Arts in Business. Bachelor of Arts in History. Magna Cum Laude. Phi Thetta Kappa.”

As soon as the Dean of the college calls my name, I take a few steps across the stage towards him. Just as I thought, only a few people started clapping for me. Since no one was here to watch me graduate, no one was obligated to clap. The stupid fuckin’ college just had to change the graduation date.

He hands me my diplomas; I grab it using my left hand like I was taught at our graduation meeting last week. I put my right hand out for the handshake I have to do with the Dean but he doesn’t grab my hand. I give him a confused look when his right hand goes up and points in a different direction than he did for everyone in front of me.

I look over in that direction to see something I never thought was possible. In the back of the stadium, I see a familiar Dark Blue color standing out from the rest of the students, who are wearing black and orange. I take a quick glance at the Dean. 

He’s smiling at me and nods toward the direction he pointed at. I slowly walk off the stage and towards that direction. Along with the dark blue Cracker Jacks, I see long beautiful brown hair that I would recognize anywhere.

“Le?” I whisper to myself trying to get a closer look at the figure.

The figure starts walking toward me and I knew in that moment, my love has come home.

“Leigh!” I yell, running in your direction.

We meet halfway down the aisle and I drop my diplomas, wrapping my arms around your waist lifting you in the air. In the background, I can hear everyone clapping but that is the last thing on my mind. I push my face into your neck as I feel a few tears escaping my eyes. 

I feel your arms go around my neck, knocking my cap off my head so it hits the ground with a tiny thud. Your legs wrap around my waist and I use one of my hands to steady you, putting it under your ass. I feel my neck get a little wet. Probably from the tears coming from your eyes, like they’re still coming from mine.

“I missed you so fuckin’ much,” I whisper into your neck, using my other hand to put in your hair.

Your cover falls off as well and I run my fingers through your hair. You pull your head up from my neck and press your lips against mine in a hard kiss.

“Leigh Marie Summers, Chief Petty Officer for the United States Navy, surprising Mr. Negan Morgan after seven months overseas,” The Dean says into his microphone.

I gently put your feet onto the ground and pull you even closer than you were before, if that is even possible. I pull away from the kiss and look deeply into your eyes.

“Surprise,” You whisper, smiling widely.

“You already knew,” I whisper smirking down at you.

“Of course I did, I had a little help.” You say looking over my shoulder at the Dean.

I turn my head and glance at him. He’s just grinning from ear to ear. He nods his head at us, and I can’t help but smile. He helped bring you home to me, and on today of all days. I look back at you.

“When’d you get in?” I ask.

You smirk. “Last night.”

“Last night?! And you didn’t fuckin’ come see me?”

You giggle. “Nope. I wanted to surprise you. I promised you that I’d be here to see you walk across the stage. The Dean called me two days ago and told me that the date had been changed, and offered to help me in anyway he could to make sure I made it here to see you graduate.”

“You certainly surprised me.” I grin, as another thought crosses my mind. “Wait. That’s why you fuckin’ called me this morning, isn’t it? You were already stateside?”

You blush. “Mmhhmm.”

“Well, then, where the hell were you when I gave you that special fuckin’ show?”

You giggle. “I was in our bedroom in our apartment.”

I smile. “That’s why you kept the phone close to your face. You knew I’d recognize our own damn bedroom.”

You nod. “Yep!”

I chuckle. Yes, I live on campus since I’m an RA, but you and I also have our own apartment off campus. When you’re home from deployment, you stay there, and I stay there with you on the nights that I don’t have to be on duty as an RA.

“Please give a round of applause for Leigh Summers, who successfully got her squad safe from active fire and back home where they belong.” The Dean says over the intercom.

I step back a little and look around the room. Everyone is standing up, clapping their hands. I look down at the ground and pick up your Navy issued cap. I step back and put it on your head the way that you taught me to do it, stepping back once more, clapping along with everyone else.

You stand up straight, putting your hands to your sides. You bring your right hand up and salute everyone in the stadium, bring your hand back down to your side. I step closer and kiss your lips once again.

“I’ll see you in a second, doll.” I whisper to you.

You nod and turn around, going to a seat. One of the gentlemen sitting in the front row stops you and offers you his seat. You smile at him and shake his hand, sitting down in said seat. I lean down and pick up my diplomas and my graduation cap and go to the Dean. 

He looks at me confused but I put my hand out to shake his hand. He smiles a little bit and shakes it. I walk back to my seat, putting my cap on my head. I smile to myself and look over my shoulder. You wink at me and I grin. I turn back toward the front. 

I fuckin’ can’t believe you surprised me today. I never thought in a million years that you would come surprise me during graduation. My day has gotten even better, now that I know you’re home safe and with me. Since I was closer to the back of the line, there weren’t many more people behind me.

After about twenty minutes of sitting in these uncomfortable chairs, the last person sits down in their chair.

“Now everyone, please move your tassel to the left side of your cap,” Everyone does so, “Now I want to congratulate everyone who has graduated today. Please stand up and give a round of applause to the Class of 2005!”

Everyone starts clapping and everyone, including me, cheers and throws our caps into the air. When they all fall back down, I hurry and grab mine. I turn quickly and look for you. I see you standing up at the chair you were offered. I walk quickly over to you, wrapping my arms around you once again, pulling you close

“Come on, Graduate. Let’s go get your stuff so we can go home.” You say into my ear.

I nod and I grab your hand, walking out of the stadium toward my dorm room. Along the way, a man walks up to us.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” We both turn to the gentleman. “I just want to say thank you so much for your service to this country.” He puts out his hand.

You just smile and shake his hand, “No thank you is needed, sir. I’m happy to do it.”

Suddenly a group of people walk over to us and start shaking your hand. I notice out of the corner of my eye, a guy I had Algebra with in high school, Rick Grimes. He walks over to us.

“Hello, Negan.” He says.

“Rick,” I say nodding toward him.

“I see you and Le are still together,” He says nodding toward you.

I nod and smirk, “Almost nine years. Whatcha doing here?”

“I’m here to watch Shane graduate today too.”

“Oh, that’s right, Walsh? Right?”

“That’s right,” He says as a little boy runs up to him. A woman following right behind.

“Daddy, I said hi to that nice Navy lady.” The boy says making Rick smile. “She let me take a photo with her! I want to be just like her!”

“Carl, Lori this is Negan. Le and him went to school with me.”

“Hi, Mr. Negan,” ‘Carl’ puts his hand out to me. “My names Carl and I’m 4,” He says putting 4 fingers up on his other hand. Lori just nods.

“Hi, Carl. It’s nice to meet you,” I say shaking his tiny hand.

You walk up and smile, “Hi, Rick. Hi again, Carl.”

You completely look past Rick’s wife.

Rick nods to her and looks back at me, “Nice to see you again.”

“You too,” I say grabbing your hand and we walk back toward my dorm.

When we finally make it there without any interruptions, you glance around the room. You walk to the boxes I have in the room, taking a quick peek. I start packing up the very last of my stuff.

“Hey, baby?” You ask after a few seconds.

I look over. “Mmmhmm?”

“Can I change? This uniform gets really hot.”

I bite my bottom lip as I look you up and down. When my eyes meet yours, a smirk spreads ‘cross my face. You raise an eyebrow at me, lifting your cover off your head, and setting it on the bed.

“What?” You ask.

“Honey, of course your uniform gets really hot. That’s ‘cause you’re wearing it. And, you, sweetheart, you are fuckin’ smokin’ hot.” I say.

You blush. “Oh hush.”

I stop packing and make my way over to you. I place both my hands on your hips and lean down to kiss you.

“I’m only speakin’ the fuckin’ truth, doll.” I murmur against your lips.

“You’re a smooth talker, honey.” You tease.

“You know you love me.”

“Damn straight I do.”

I grin, and help you take your uniform shirt off. I remind myself that I can’t be too rough in taking it off of you. All I wanna do is take your clothes off you, and make sweet love to you. I wanna take my time with you for at least the first time since it’s been so long. 

Once I have your uniform shirt off, I drape it over the edge of my bed. I turn back to you to see you lifting your white undershirt off. I go to say something, but the words get caught in my throat at the sight of you. You tug the shirt off and toss it on the bed. 

I let my eyes rake over your torso, from your belly button up to your collarbone. My gaze stops right above your heart. I take a step closer to you, and gently shove your bra strap to the side, and tug down the cup of the bra. I run my fingers over the skin there, tracing the design of the hammerhead shark you have inked in there. 

I lift my eyes up to look at you, keeping my fingers roaming over the ink.

“When’d you get this?” I ask, quietly.

You smile. “A couple months ago. We stopped off in Italy for a few days, and I decided to get it. I know it’s something we’ve talked ‘bout for a while.”

I grin. “It’s beautiful.”

I pull my hand away from your skin and loosen my tie a wee bit, unbutton the vest, and a few buttons of my shirt. I tug the left side of the fabric to the side. Your eyes drift down to my exposed skin, and you bring your hand up to trace over the ink I have just above my heart. 

You lift your eyes up to mine.

“It’s a penguin.” You whisper.

I smile. “It is. I know it’s your favorite animal, sweetheart. ‘Sides, when we always talked ‘bout getting matching tattoos, we decided we’d get each other’s favorite animals.”

You grin. “When did you get it?”

I pause. “Uh….two months after you got deployed.”

“It’s pretty. I’m surprised I didn’t notice it this mornin’ when we videochatted.”

I chuckle. “Well, if I fuckin’ remember correctly, doll, your eyes were focused on another part of my body.”

You blush. “Hey. Not my fault you put on one hell of a show.”

I laugh. “You started it.”

“Nah uh.”

“Yes uh.”

“Nah uh.”

“Mmhhmm.”

You giggle. “Nope.”

I lean down to kiss you. “Yes. You did.”

“Hmmm...you keep kissing me like that, and I’ll admit to startin’ it.”

I chuckle. “Is that a promise?”

“Don’t start somethin’ you ain’t plannin’ on finishin’.”

I playfully growl. “Oh, honey. I promise you, you’ll be finishin’ ‘fore we leave this damn room.”

“Promises. Promises.” You taunt.

“Oh. I’ll fuckin’ show you promises, sweetheart.”

I take your lips in a passionate kiss, causing you to cling to my shoulders as you moan into the kiss. I curl one arm ‘round your waist, and tug you closer to me as I deepen the kiss. You moan again, which gives my tongue a change to dart in and dance with yours. 

My free hand trails down between our bodies and shove your uniform pants down.

You pull back from the kiss, panting.

“Negan, honey. My boots.” You pant.

I chuckle before I scoop you up and plop you down on my bed. I drop to my knees and tug your boots off you feet. I set ‘em on the floor before I crawl over you on my bed. I place a hand on either side of your head. You shift your legs so that my lower body rests between ‘em. 

You hook a leg over my calves. I do a mock pushup as I lean down to kiss you. You wrap your arms ‘round my neck, and I feel your fingers tangle in my hair. I break the kiss and rest my forehead against yours.

“Did you cum this mornin’?” I ask.

You shake your head. “No. I didn’t have ‘nough time ‘fore I had to head over to the ceremony.”

I nod. “Ok.”

Before you can say another word, I start trailing open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, neck, between your breasts, and down your tummy. I let my tongue dip into your belly button. You arch up against me, and I can’t help but smirk. I tilt my head back so that my eyes meet yours, but I keep my mouth on your skin.

You reach down and tangle your fingers in my hair again and tug roughly. I don’t mind the pain one bit. Not when it means I get to see you like this. I chuckle as you let out another moan and arch your hips towards me.

“Negan. Honey. Please.” You beg.

“Please what, baby girl? Tell daddy what you want.” I tease.

You moan. “Somethin’. Anythin’. YOU!”

I chuckle. “Yes, ma’am.”

I trail one of my hands down your body and hook my fingers in your panties. I give ‘em a gentle tug and pull off your legs. I glance up at you as I nestle myself between your legs, hooking ‘em over my shoulders.

“You sure you want this, sweetheart?” I ask, in a serious tone.

I would never do something that you didn’t want or consent to. I don’t believe in rape or anything similar to it. Your eyes meet mine. You know how I am, so you know that while it may sound like I’m teasing you, I’m actually being completely fuckin’ serious.

“Yes, Negan! I want this.” You say. “Please!”

“Yes, ma’am.” I say before diving in.

I make love to you with my mouth. I alternate between licking, sucking, and kissing your core. You buck your hips against my face, repeatedly, as you pant and tug on my hair. I place one palm against your lower tummy and push you back down against the bed. 

I gently slide my index finger of my other hand inside you. I do so slowly ‘cause I know it’s been awhile for you, and the last thing I wanna do is hurt you. The moment you feel my finger in you, only to the first knuckle, you clench up. I pull my mouth from you and glance up at you.

“Relax, baby. Just relax. I got you.” I assure you.

You nod. “I forgot how big your fingers were, though.”

I chuckle. “I know it’s been a while. That’s why I gotta get you ready.”

You nod and moan as my finger slides in a little further. I latch back onto your clit and focus on making you feel good. Before too long, I’m able to add another finger. I move my fingers in a scissor like motion, and I feel my middle finger brush up against that special spot. 

You buck yours hips against my face, and tighten your grip on my hair the moment it does.

“Oh fuck!” You pant.

I chuckle against your lower lips which has you moaning loudly. It doesn’t take much longer ‘fore I feel you tighten ‘round my fingers, almost painfully. I lift my eyes to look at you again. You’ve got your eyes squeezed shut and your chest’s heaving.

“Let go, baby. Just fuckin’ let go. I got you.” I murmur.

Just like I did earlier with your words, you come undone ‘round my fingers at my words. I smile and keep lapping up your juices. When you finally manage to come down from your high, I push myself up to my knees and gaze down at you. I bring a hand up and wipe your juices from my beard.

You flop back on the mattress with a content look on your face. I chuckle as I lean forward, covering your body with mine. I gently brush my lips against yours and you moan into the kiss. I pull back after a moment and just look at you.

“I forgot what it’s like to taste myself on you.” You mumble.

I laugh. “You taste fuckin’ amazin’, doll.”

You grin. “So do you.”

I groan at your words. I know how much you fuckin’ love going down on me, and every single time, you swallow every last drop. I kiss you once more before pulling away and standing up. If I don’t, I’m liable to take you, right here, on my college mattress, and that’s not what I want at the moment.

I want to take my time with you and enjoy our first time together again in months. You look up at me, pouting, as I start to button my shirt back up and fix my tie. You prop yourself up on your elbows.

“What ‘bout you?” You ask.

“What ‘bout me, baby?” I reply.

“Don’t you wanna cum too?”

I smile. “Of course I do, but I came earlier. Remember?”

“But...after what you just did to me?”

I chuckle. “Sweetheart. You know my two for one rule.”

You blush and nod. “I get to cum twice for every time you do.”

I nod. “Exactly. So, I’ve still got one more time to make you cum to make up for mine this fuckin’ mornin’.”

You blush. I finish buttoning up my vest ‘fore I lean back down over you. I kiss your forehead.

“Besides, doll. I wanna take my fuckin’ time with you later. I don’t wanna fuckin’ rush our first time in months.” I whisper.

You giggle. “Ok.”

I smile as I stand up straight. “You bring any extra clothes with you today?”

Shaking your head you answer my question. I dig through my duffle bag and pull out my baseball jersey and a pair of my sweatpants. I hand ‘em to you as you sit up completely. You slip my jersey on first. It hangs halfway down your thighs once you stand up. 

I just take in the sight of you. My jersey looks damn good on you. All throughout high school, you always wore my jersey to my games; you refused to wear any other shirt to my games. You swore that in my jersey, you were my lucky charm. The one day you had to wear a shirt aside from my jersey, we ended up losing by six runs, and I got hit in the face with a wild pitch.

After that, you always made sure to wear my jersey, and I never argued with you when you said something ‘bout you in my shirt being my good luck charm. Plus, you always looked damned good in it. Lord have mercy. You thought I was sexy in my uniform, but honey, you put me to shame when it came to the sight of you in my baseball jersey.

I always had to pull you back into the bedroom right before we left, but somehow we were never late to any of the games. You made sure of that. I could make love to you before the game, but you made sure we were never late. You stand up and start pulling on the sweatpants. 

They go to fall down but I help you tighten them.

“You ready to go?” You ask, grabbing your uniform folding it, and putting it in my duffle bag.

“Yes, doll.” I smile over at you, putting your cover on your head.

[periilune]

Answer all 200

damn okay you asked for it:

(this was asked a long time ago and its just being posted now bc its 200 fuckin questions f u kars jk love you)

1. What is your middle name?

Elizabeth

2. Do you have any nicknames?

Liz, Laur, Lau, Squid, Koala, Rhyne, Babe

3. Do you have any allergies?

Not to my knowledge

4. What is the longest your hair has ever been?

Too long,, like I could sit on it

5. Apple or PC?

PC

6. Favorite flavor?

In general probably some kinda cheese but for sweet stuff is cookie dough

7. Have you ever been on a blind date?

Bold of you to assume I’ve even been on a date (no I haven’t)

8. Are you friends with any of your exes?

2 of them actually!

9. What kind of car do you drive?

I can’t even drive,, but I have a Toyota Avalon waiting for me when I can

10. How grammatically correct are you when you text?

It really depends, I’m very correct when texting adults, decent when texting acquaintances, absolute disaster with good friends

11. What foreign country would you most like to visit and why?

Probs the UK or Italy, the UK bc I have several friends there and its very nice, and Italy for good food and good views

12. Creamy or chunky peanut butter?

Creamy all the way

13. Favorite food to pig out on?

Pizza

14. DC or Marvel?

Marvel!

15. Disney or Nickelodeon?

God idk,, probably Nickelodeon

16. Do you have any stickers on your laptop computer?

Yes, one from Kiawah Island (very nice place) and a couple random ones

17. Name/author of the last book you read cover to cover. Do you recommend it?

The Lost Hero by Rick Riordan, considering that was like my 3rd time reading it yeah I do

18. Do you read any magazines?

Nah

19. Coffee or tea?

Not a fan of either, I guess I’d pick coffee

20. What is your go-to Starbucks drink?

Red Velvet Frappucino

21. How many things can do with your weaker hand?

Oh You Know ;) in all honestly not much, I can catch because I used to play softball

22. Last show you binge watched?

Currently binge watching My Hero Academia!

23. Dogs or cats?

Cats

24. Favorite Disney princess?

Mulan or Moana I think

25. Do you like fast food?

Generally yeah

26. Favorite thing to cook for yourself?

Pasta and some type of garlic or cheesy or toasted bread

27. Favorite song to sing in the shower?

Currently Morning in America by John Bellion

28. Have you ever butt dialed anyone?

I don’t think so

29. iPhone/iPad or Android?

Android

30. Any styles of music you do not like?

Most country tbh, excluding John Denver n Carrie Underwood they’re both great

31. Have you ever kissed anyone of the same gender? If so, did you like it?

Not quite, but pretty close. We were dating so I’d say I liked it

32. Have you ever gotten a ticket while driving?

I can’t drive so no!

33. Favorite emoji?

💖 or 🍒 I think

34. Showers or baths?

Showers for convenience, but the occasional bath is nice to relax

35. Is there anything you regret buying?

Some clothes I have I don’t like, my fake airpods that don’t work

36. Are you fluent in more than one language?

Not yet, but I’m learning Spanish!

37. Any movie(s) you can watch over and over again and enjoy just as much every time?

Black Panther, The Last Unicorn, any of The Lord of the Rings trilogy

38. What is the heaviest you have ever weighed?

Around 155-160 pounds

39. Do you have any tattoos? If so, how many and where?

Not yet

40. Have you ever uttered a spoken hashtag?

Yep.

41. Favorite school subject?

I used to love English but not so much anymore, right now in in Psychology and its really cool tbh

42. Favorite non-chocolate candy?

Fuckin uh,, airheads are pretty good

43. Name one celebrity you dislike.

Johnny Depp is a shitty abuser.

44. If you could have one superpower, which one would you most like to have?

Telekinesis I think

45. From 1-10, rate your singing ability.

7

46. From 1-10, rate your dancing ability.

3

47. From 1-10, rate your cooking ability.

7

48. From 1-10, rate your driving ability.

1

49. Are you religious?

I’m really not sure, I was raised religious but I’m questioning a lot atm

50. Do you drink soda? If so, which one is your favorite?

Yep, I like Cherry Coke

51. Have you ever locked your keys in your car?

No, but I’ve been with someone who has

52. Spring or autumn?

Autumn

53. Do you play any sports?

Not now, but I’ve played soccer, softball, and basketball in the past

54. Can you play any musical instruments?

Nope

55. Are you more introverted or extroverted?

Introverted

56. How easily do you cry?

My dude,, so easily

57. Last musical artist you saw live?

My Lord and Savior Avi Kaplan

58. Favorite YouTube channel?

Not 2 be That person but I genuinely like Markiplier tbh

59. Star Wars or Star Trek?

Star Wars

60. How long have you known your best friend?

Well 1 of them funnily enough our moms knew each other when he was a baby and I was unborn, but we really met in 6th grade. My other best friend I met  about 3 years ago :)

61. Have you ever voted for a reality show?

I think so

62. Last CD you bought? uhhhhh maybe a pentatonix cd dunno which one 

63. Have you ever ended a romantic relationship?

Nope I’m the one who gets dumped 

64. Have you ever been broken up with? See above (3 times) 

65. Have you ever been in the audience for the taping of a TV show? Nah 

66. How long was your longest relationship? Are you still with that person?

A year and 3 months currently, and yes

67. Have you seen any Broadway plays or musicals?

Nope 

68. Have you ever acted in a play or a musical?

Yes! I’ve been in The Wizard of Oz (twice!), Little Shop of Horrors, Seussical the Musical, and the Little Mermaid 

69. How flexible are you?

Not very 

70. Have you ever sexted? Yes…  

71. Do you own any clothes from garage sales or thrift stores?

Yep 

72. Real or fake Christmas trees?

We’ve had a fake one my whole life, but I’d like to have a real one some day

73. How many pillows do you sleep with? 2-3 

74. How well can you write in cursive?

Not great, but I can get the job done 

75. What is your political affiliation?

Not officially affiliated, but rather left 

76. Do you like any boy bands?

The Backstreet Boys duh

77. Have you ever broken any bones?

Just a couple small ones in my toe 

78. Have you ever gotten any stitches?

Nah 

79. Do you have any piercings in places other than your ears?

Not yet

80. What is the oldest piece of clothing you still wear and how old is it? One of my favorite pairs of shorts is pretty old 

81.Do you like wearing hats?

Depends on the hat, I have a handful of baseball caps I like 

82. Have you ever dyed your hair?

At one point I had the tips dyed purple, but now I regularly dye it to make it slightly lighter and redder 

83. From 1-10, how competitive are you?

Like 8 probably, I’m not very athletic but I’m competitive about other things   

84. How long have you been at your current job?

Since November 2017   

85. Have you ever studied abroad?

Nope 

86. Phrase you say the most?

“Oof” 

87. Have you ever quit a job?

Nah 

88. Have you ever gotten fired from a job?

Nah 

89. Have you ever won a trophy? If so, what for?

Yes! For cheerleading competitions, 3rd place in making a video for a club, in a soccer tournament, and probably some others idk 

90. Have you ever been a Boy/Girl Scout?

I was a girl scout but that was a while ago 

91. Last thing that made you laugh?

Uhh last night some dumb meme my boyfriend showed me

92. Do you eat meat?

Yes

93. Are you more of a morning or a night person?

Night person, but I’m also old so it’s hard to stay up late

94. Worst habit?

Chewing fingernails, isolating myself from people when I’m sad

95. Deepest fear?

Uhhh that everyone who says they care about me is actually lying and talking about me behind my back

96. Do you believe in ghosts?

Yeah pretty much

97. If you could take home any animal from the zoo, what animal would you take?

An otter! I love them

98. Do you consider rapping singing?

I wouldn’t say it’s singing bc its different, but it’s certainly an art form and it has every place in the music industry

99. Favorite costume you wore for Halloween? How old were you?

When i was a ninja that was sick, i was probably 12-13

100. Favorite store to shop at?

For clothes? Maybe Plato’s Closet (nice secondhand place) but I also do a lot of online shopping

101. Have you ever given anyone CPR?

No

102. Favorite Pokémon?

Cresselia is dope but also Eevee

103. Do you own any homemade clothing?

Probably

104. Do you drink alcohol at all? If so, what is your drink of choice?

I’ve drunk once, vodka mixed with Hawaiian punch and it was p good

105. Have you ever skinny dipped?

No i’m fat

106. Favorite type of cookie?

Warm chocolate chunk

107. Favorite flavor of ice cream?

Oreo or chocolate chip cookie dough. The best thing i’ve ever had was a red velvet oreo milkshake tho

108. Biggest pet peeve?

When people interrupt or ignore me

109. Are you still friends with anyone from high school?

I mean I just graduated so yes

110. Favorite literary character?

Oohhhh, maybe Sam from LoTR? He was the realest friend ever

111. Are your birth parents still together?

Yeah

112. Do you wear or have your ever worn glasses?

Nope, 20/20 babeyyyy

113. How many of your Facebook friends do you actually hang out with?

Like 6, one of those being my mom lol

114. Have you ever been the victim of a prank?

Not that I can remember

115. Do you belong to a fraternity or a sorority?

No

116. Have you ever taken a nude selfie?

perhaps..

117. Are you adopted?

No

118. Favorite fandom?

Ugh fandoms r gross, maybe the rwby fandom? 

119. Oldest memory?

Trying to strangle myself at pre-school aged 4 lmaoooo

120. Have you ever snorted when you laughed?

A couple times

121. Can you drive stick?

Can’t drive at all!

122. Favorite Disney song?

How Far I’ll Go, or maybe Go The Distance

123. Random boy’s name.

Leo

124. Random girls’ name.

Natalie

125. How often do you eat out at a nice restaurant?

Once a month? Not often, I’ve done it twice in 3 days recently tho bc it was my birthday

126. How many people are in your nuclear family?

3, me and my parents

127. What accent do you consider the most attractive?

Gosh, not to be basic but probably British, although I don’t really know many others

128. What is your Myers-Briggs personality type?

INFP i think? Maybe INFJ

129. What is your astrological sign?

Leo! (capricorn moon and cancer rising)

130. Biggest regret?

Trying to make someone care again who had no intention of doing so

131. What type of shoes do you wear the most?

My checkered vans, I swear I wore them every day of senior year

132. Do you like any soap operas?

No

133. Do you listen to talk radio?

Not often

134. What sports team(s) do you root for?

SF Giants, Carolina Panthers, Charlotte Hornets, Duke, Kentucky

135. Describe your sense of humor.

Ridiculously stupid, inside jokes

136. Have you ever been hit on by someone of the same gender?

Yeah, my ex-girlfriend lmao

137. Favorite video game?

Overwatch

138. Name a moment in your life when you were pleasantly surprised.

When i got a mf perfect score on my ACT

139. Do you believe in serendipity?

I had to look that up but I guess so

140. Have you ever left a movie theater before the movie was done?

I don’t think so, one time the movie malfunctioned and cut off like an hour in and we had to leave

141. Have you ever felt you were born in the wrong period of history?

Nah, everything has always sucked, but now is somewhat less sucky than before bc we have the internet

142. Is sex before marriage wrong?

No

143. Have you ever gotten a song you dislike stuck in your head?

Yes omg, fuckin Girls Like You, fuck you Adam Levine

144. Can you handle spicy food?

Only slightly spicy

145. Have you ever called a non-lover a term such as darling, honey, babe, or dear?

I call my friend Ryker babe all the time, and call most of my friends “love”

146. Do you like MTV?

Nah not really

147. Where on your body are you the most ticklish?

Probably ribs area

148. TV show or movie you quote/reference the most?

The Princess Bride is so quotable, so maybe that idk, I quote memes more than anything

149. Have you ever lived with a roommate you didn’t get along with?

Can I say my parents? I’ve never lived not in my house, but I’m about to go to college and I hope I like my roommate

150. Where do you think is the best place to meet a new lover?

Either school or through mutual friends?

151. Have you ever successfully been on a diet?

I mean I’ve lost weight but it wasn’t a diet, just not eating lol

152. Favorite thing to do outside?

Have a photoshoot, jk I love looking at flowers, also swimming is good

153. Where did you go on your last vacation?

Kiawah Island, for grad week

154. Do you say “y'all” at all?

Yes, I live in the south and started using it ironically but now I can’t stop

155. Have you ever lived on a farm?

No

156. Do you believe in evolution?

There’s scientific evidence for it, so yes

157. What TV channel do you watch the most?

Honestly HGTV those houses are awesome

158. Favorite Beatles song?

Hmmmm, Maybe A Day In The Life or Eleanor Rigby, I Am The Walrus is always good too ngl

159. Have you ever been on TV?

On like the local channels for school awards and such

160. Have you ever been to Disney World or Disneyland?

I went to Disneyland last summer!

161. Do you like horror movies?

Not really, I’m a pussy

162. Do you like to go fishing?

No

163. Have you ever been hunting?

No

164. Do you take medication for anything?

Yes, for ye olde depression

165. Name one item from your bucket list.

Get a novel published

166. From 1-10, how much do you like children?

3 maybe, they’re kinda annoying

167. Have you ever thought about your wedding?

Yes, but my ideas have changed over time

168. Have you ever been bungee jumping or skydiving?

No, but I’d like to

169. Favorite flower?

Hmmm Sunflowers? or Snapdragons, or the pink magnolias

170. Do you collect anything?

Enamel pins, and rwby blind box figurines (it’s not an addiction I swear)

171. Who was the last person you told a lie to?

My mom probably

172. Have you ever been a bridesmaid or a groomsman?

Nope

173. Have you ever had a fortune cookie fortune come true?

Not that I know of

174. What was your favorite toy to play with when you were a child?

Hmmmm I had this little Narnia figurine set that I loved, also a bunch of littlest pet shop toys

175. How good are you at math?

Pretty good, I took AP Calculus in high school and got an A, doesn’t mean I liked it

176. Have you ever learned anything from a how-to YouTube video?

Not that I can think of right now

177. Have you ever participated in a science fair?

Yes, it was required in 6th grade

178. Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender?

Womanhood is difficult and I often wish I did not have to bear it, but I’ve made peace with it

179. Have you ever participated in a public protest?

No, I’m scared

180. Do you have a pool at your house?

No

181. Have you ever hosted a wild party?

No lol, the wildest was probably my birthday party when we all got high and then had a 1 am McDonalds run because munchies

182. Do you like karaoke?

Not really

183. Have you ever written a love letter?

Kind of yes, I’m rather sappy

184. Have you ever ran a marathon?

God no, I’ve done a lot of 5Ks though

185. How often do you get mad at yourself?

So much, I suck

186. Any guilty pleasures?

Probably shitty old Warrior Cats AMVs, those are great when you’re bored and need to remember your roots

187. Fruits or vegetables?

Vegetables solely because potatoes fuckin slap

188. Do you live in a house or an apartment?

In a house, but I’m about to move into a dorm

189. The countryside or the suburbs?

Suburbs, I’ve lived in them my whole life, also listen to Subdivisions by Rush it’s great

190. Worst job you’ve ever had?

I’ve only had 1 job so I guess working at Chick-fil-A

191. Do you hang out with any of your co-workers?

Yes, one of them was my friend from school as well so I hang out with her regularly

192. Were you ever voted homecoming/prom king or queen?

Nope, but my good friends were prom king and queen!

193. Were you voted a “best” or “most likely to” in high school?

No, but I was “Most Likely To Be President - Girl” in elementary school so take that

194. Have you ever gotten detention?

No I’m a good kid

195. Have you ever babysat?

Yes, we watched disney movies and played dress-up

196. Have you ever taken a road trip just for the fun of it?

Nah, but I’d like to

197. How many drinks get you tipsy?

Idk, I was a little funny after 2 vodka spiked punches so

198. Were you a part of any academic clubs in high school or college?

Certainly yes, Technology Student Association, Beta club, Book club

199. Have you ever given a public speech, aside from your schooling?

I did the sermon one Sunday at church, but I’m not a big fan of public speaking

200. How long have you been on tumblr?

5 years in november! (God thats awful)

@officieel i did it bastard

[nocvil]

*            ‐            ․            ↺            𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙍𝙊𝘿𝙐𝘾𝙄𝙉𝙂 . . .  ｓｏｏ ｂｏｇｕｍ . hitman        .        caretaker        .        the heel        .        a masked hell        .

❝   my love     ,     my love     ,     my love     ,     won't you stay a while     ?   ❞

possible tw’s below: parental death mention, illness mentions, murder for hire mentions, and uh m,,, i think that’s it rlly. just warning ok.

GENERAL INFO

full name: soo bogum ( 수 보검 ). nickname(s): bo, sweetie pie to his mother (: gender & pronouns: cismale, he/him. sexual & romantic orientation: aromantic, demisexual. age & dob: twenty-five, november 8th, 19-- birthplace/hometown: seoul, sk. parents/siblings: only child, deceased father, living mother. pet(s): absolutely not LOL. astrological sign: scorpio. >:-) dominant hand: both! handwriting style: mostly writes in very slanted cursive. i feel like when you see things like royal documents signed or very important letters written back in the day with that vintage cursive ... that would be bogum. language(s) known/spoken: spanish, english, korean. religion: LOL. ok. current living arrangements: a two-bedroom, two bath apartment complex with his older, npc mother. it is pretty spacious given they both have their own room, a kitchen, dining space, their own bathrooms, and a patio. bo has the money if you kno what i mean ... (: occupation/major: hitman.

PHYSICAL

picture reference: uhh... this? this look rlly gives off bogum vibes so (: blood type: type O. nationality: korean. skin tone/color: lighter tanned. birthmarks & scars: heheh wouldn’t u like to kno ??? height: five-foot ten inches. 5′10″. build: pretty average, more on the lean/athletic side though. hair color: red. hair length: uhm ,, look at reference photo? eye color: brown. diet: uhm ... bo has a pretty average diet probably. he would eat just about anything, not very picky. i think he probably has his favorites when it comes to chips and candy but he doesn’t have a special diet. exercise & level of fitness: LOOOL. let me not make a bad joke here ): how’s their posture ( or lack thereof )?: bogum probably has really good posture! i think standing tall with a straight back probably adds to his uh... authoritative look?  typical style of dress: ( from his stats page ) dresses a bit old school, vintage?, almost plain. likes wearing tucked in and cuffed shirts, rolled up pants, boots, baseball caps, at least three rings on one hand, gold bracelets. the following outfits aren’t specific to him but they are probably kinda similar. it’s hard to rlly find exact examples ): (  1  /  2  /  3  /  4  ) body modifications: none, surprisingly. probably pierced ears that he never puts earrings in. that’s really it though. he would prob like a tattoos but wouldn’t do it for the sake of his career ( because tattoos are distinguishing features ).

MANNERISMS

how does your muse walk?: def with a bit of power in his step. very protective when he is with his mother. mostly, he would walk like he calculates every single step he takes. how does your muse talk?: HAHA i just talked about this with myungok’s mun ,, he would talk very plain and probably without a lot of emotion. this would make things that are usually out of pocket probably sound kinda weird.  what accent/dialect does your muse talk with?: he is from seoul and according to google, they speak with a gyeonggi dialect there (: how would you describe the tone of their voice? are they loud or quiet?: QUIET... shh... if you speak too loud you won’t hear bogum speaking with such monotoned you could probably fall asleep. bogum asmr when?  what does their laugh sound like?: bogum? LAUGHING? i feel like bogum chuckles. so he would have like a short, quiet laugh. how does your muse typically smell?: either like smoke from a cigarette or like his mom’s perfume. what kind of air do they carry?: well jinae’s mun said he would have a dark and heavy presence and honestly that rlly fits the bill. do they have a(ny) catchphrase(s)?: time to die. what are their nervous ticks?: um.. not sure. probably knuckle cracking and finger tapping.

PSYCHOLOGY

what makes your muse happiest?: his mommy! seeing his mom thrive and gain her confidence back, even momentarily, makes him so happy. what upsets them the most?: ugh. listen. i talked abt this with some of y’all but the thought that if he ever got exposed or arrested ... how everyone in his life, including his mother, would just abandon him ... CRIES. was this supposed to be a general question? does your muse have any quirks?: i think his tendency to just be way too lax in certain situations would be his infamous quirk. what are their hobbies? how frequent do/can they do them?: bogum is definitely a simple man. he would totally like puzzles, word searches, watching the news, scrapbooking ( YES, SCRAPBOOKING ), taking walks, shopping with his mom, writing, idk, he doesn’t do anything OD or over the top. shrug. do they have any guilty pleasures?: is your muse an extrovert or an introvert? neither?: 10000% introverted otl. do they have high or low self-esteem? what about confidence?: uhm... bogum probably has an average amount of confidence/self-esteem. he’s a realist, definitely. if he look ugly he look ugly. if he look good he look good. ‘nuff said. are they easily stressed and how do they normally respond to it?: stressed? bogum could be in the midst of a bank robbery and be sitting there like ok, y’all done yet? what is your muses worst fear?: his mother finding out about his job. what is your muses biggest dream?: to either escape his job for good or to be able to heal his mother of all her injuries and illnesses. but of course, neither of those will ever happen! is your muse a morning person or a night dragon?: a night dragon? ok. anyway he is probably both. i can see bogum getting like four hours of sleep and waking up like (: let’s fuckin go! how intelligent is your muse? do they acknowledge it?: OH BOGUM has street smarts but definitely probably not book smarts. at least, not a great amount of book smarts. how can he be a hitman if he’s DUMM?! describe their sense of humor: LMAO. the real question is how can someone as funny as ME play someone as BORING as bogum?

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES

are they currently in any sexual or romantic relationships?: HELL NO. luuuul. what is their experience with relationships?: to really think about it, bo probably had feelings for people here and there and most likely dated short term in high school but after he moved and began doing that he kind of lost all his effort to pursue romance. how does your muse view the idea of friends with benefits? have they ever had one? would they ever?: another hell naw to that sis. how important is sex to your muse?: not important at all. bogum could care less. what are their biggest turn on and turn offs?: see above pls. does your muse find it easy to make friends?: i say yes, only because most of his friends are through his mother. how important is friendship to them?: veRY IMPORTANT if bogum didn’t have the friends he has today, he probably would be a lot more sad and maybe more than just a hitman ): quantity or quality of friends?: quality! how important is family?: VERY IMPORTANT AGAIN bogum would give his life for his mother and to have his father back. are they close to their family? why or why not ?: YES. obviously asdfasdf everyone probably knows why. although bogum is now the one who runs the house, he still really values his mother because she ultimately has nobody but him in the end if she gets worse. his parents were always really good to him and when his father died, he knew that he and his mother had to stick together through it. he also knew that that he had to step up to provide for his mother because of her injuries and dementia. she is his life, really.

FAVORITES

activity: haha. you really wanna kno?... he likes word searches a lot. animal: idk. probably like. idk.  beverage: mmmm some piping hot tea. book: - color: is red cliche to say? designer: - food:  flower:  water lilies, pansies, lilies, peonies, idk, he would love all kinds of flowers. gem: i googled these. if he had a favorite it would be garnet, smoked topaz, and morion. holiday: christmas! his mother’s favorite too, probably. mode of transportation: walking, usually. movie: -  musical artist: oh boy, uhm,, i bet bogum likes indie kpop. like dean, suran, hyukoh, but i dont rlly know a lot to give you more details. quote / saying: - scenery: hm. probably night time in the living room, mom is put to bed already, he’s watching a rerun episode of a crime drama on television and thinking about how it’s so unrealistic. he’s got a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other though he puts it out halfway through because he loses interest. (: scent: i think he’d like the smell of cleaning products, flower scents ( bc it would remind him of his mom ), and metal (: obviously. weather: cloudy or rainy weather. anything that let’s him stay inside for the day. vacation destination: UM. i bet bogum would like to travel out of country to places like europe.

ATTITUDES

greatest dream: to finally have a peaceful life with his mother by his side, healthy or not. he wants to stop being a hitman, really, but it’s kind of like an addiction, plus he’s good at it, and it brings in the bacon. greatest fear: being caught and leaving his mother by herself -- it would be like the ultimate let down since he doesn’t trust anyone with her. most at east when: pls see scenery in section above. least as ease when: out in public by himself. he doesn’t have his mom as his cover. worst possible thing that could happen: PLS SEE GREATEST FEAR. ajdfkjasdfskf biggest achievement: moving to seoul safely with his mom! biggest regret: falling back into the crime life. most embarrassing moment: idk i feel like bogum isn’t embarrassing. he’s too ,, plain. biggest secret: LMAO well ... i think we all know. top priorities: keeping his mom safe, alive, healthy, and her bills paid for. also keeping himself undercover for the most part and making sure neither him or his mother are overwhelmed.

EXTRA TIDBITS

001. bogum is an unhealthy smoker but a social drinker. he never smokes around his mother though.

002. whenever bogum’s mother is around, he is on his own best behavior. he always does his best to be nice and keep up an image of her sweet son although by himself he can be different.

003. so far the only person who knows about his job is sangwoo because he sort of saw him in the act during his first hit. the two joke about it but bogum would take him out in a heartbeat if he spills.

004. i think it’s funny because i always pictured bogum as that person would give the shirt off of his back for you if you were in trouble. but he also wouldn’t hesitate to threaten to make you disappear.

005. his mom doesn’t know how he gets the money to pay for everything but bogum has her believing he “has his ways” and to “just trust him” although she asks about it every now and then.

006. though he stays inside a lot, some of the places you might see bogum outside of his apartment, are grocery stores close to his place, bars around town, museums, little cafes picking up things for his mother, dawon’s flower shop, and very occasionally places where there are a lot of drug activity.

007. here is smth: bogum is a hitman because his father was killed in a hit!

008. despite his mom questioning where he earns his money, his family has always been pretty well off but that was because of his father. so now that his father isn’t alive, it’s kind of ... fishy.

009. lmao probably your very typical scorpio minus the s*xual stuff.

010. my brain stopped working.

AESTHETICS

a card hand full of royals. empty, dark hospital hallways. dirty hands under black leather gloves. an empty, lonely wheelchair. old black and white photographs. an ashtray full of half smoked cigarettes. ripped up diary pages. rolled up fifty dollar bills. two expensive rings on each finger. responding “k” to a paragraph long text message. tri-folded letters written in the upmost calligraphy. roman numeral clocks.

[moczothe1st]

Let’s Play Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Holy War, Part 30: Man, oh Man, oh Manfroy

Part 29

Welcome back to Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Holy War.  Last week, we fought off like six armies all at once, and it was miserable, but on the plus side Hilda died. I think every game would be better if Hilda died.  This week, we finish taking her castle and… *sigh* And we regret it, probably.  This week, we start off mid-turn, so after moving most of my southern front up north toward the action, I end my turn and let the remainder of Hilda’s dorks take their shot.

… Why couldn’t they have gone down that easy last week, huh?!

Now, on our turn, the enemy is down to four dark mages with staves, and one dark bishop with a siege tome in the castle. I have Fee cut down one of the former…

And have Larcei and Seliph talk about love, because honestly I’m actually in no big hurry to finish this castle.

Larcei: I’m coming with you on this one!

Seliph: Of course you’re welcome to… but why?

Larcei: It’s odd… I’m actually a little scared…

Seliph: Odd indeed! If there’s one thing you’ve never been known for, it’s fear.

Larcei: It’s… I just…

Seliph: Shhh. I understand. Now come! After all, what could ever inspire courage quite like having you at my side.

(… Damn, Seliph, smooth like silk. You win a little more of my respect, bro.)

Larcei: Seliph…

This conversation gives Seliph +1 to his Strength; it was apparently supposed to be +3, but he was actually only one point away from his (oddly low) cap. Apparently Seliph only has a natural 25 strength cap! That seems weird considering his descent from Sigurd the Humungous.

And… sigh. Guess I should kill the stupid boss.

All right. Nothing left but sleep staves, and they can’t really hurt us. I have Fee and Altena purge them.

And now we have the problem dealt with. A little jumping around before I set off the next story segment; I have Finn zapped home, where he repairs and sells his Brave Lance. I’m going to have Fee buy it after we take Freege.  Sorry, Finn, but you’re kind of just not holding up; you lasted longer than I expected you too, but despite being decent on offense you’re just kind of fragile.  Oifey will also be benched here, I think, he can stay to defend Freege castle after we take it.  Thankfully…

… The game is polite enough to tell us where the next part of the chapter will be coming from. So I do spend a turn or two moving the kids up to this gate and ready to rock. Seliph?

Seliph: But I can’t help but wonder… are the children at Belhalla still unharmed? I pray they are…

Lewyn: Funny you should say that!

(That’s not really the appropriate response to dying children.)

Lewyn: We’ve got a visitor who’s got a bit of news on that front, Seliph.

(“I’ve seen… terrible things. Thank the gods I have no sister, for I fear I would never be able to look her in the eyes again.”)

Felipe: On secret orders from His Majesty, the abducted children were moved here to Freege for safe-keeping.

(Orders so secret that we never actually got to see Arvis give them in that whole scene where he was desperately trying to save all the children at Chalphy and failing, being immediately caught, and then getting cowed into submission by a man infinitely less powerful than himself. STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME FEEL BAD FOR ARVIS, GAME.)

Felipe: Rest easy, sire. They’re all hiding in the city’s abbey, and they’re all in good health.

Seliph: And all under Hilda’s nose, at that! That you’ve kept every last child safe in Hilda’s own city… color me impressed!

Felipe: Actually, sire… Princess Ishtar deserves your thanks. Without her generous aid given in secret, we could never have done this. No Imperial soldiers dared come even close to the abbey, on pain of the princess’s wrath.

Seliph: Princess Ishtar?! But why… why would she-

Felipe: Few people in this land are as kind and caring as Princess Ishtar.  

FEW PEOPLE IN THIS LAND ARE AS KIND AND CARING AS PRINCESS ISHTAR.

YEAH SHE’S A FUCKIN’ TREASURE.

Felipe: All along, the princess has toiled behind the scenes to aid our cause.  It was Princess Ishtar herself who ensured that every last child escaped from the bowels of Belhalla.

(“Then… how comes she’s… you know… literally banging the Devil?” “Technically he’s a ghost dragon.”)

Seliph: I see… at any rate, thank the gods for their safety. I’m certain everyone will be glad to know the children are in good hands. You have my deepest thanks, Lord Felipe.

Lewyn: Well, Seliph, that’s one job done. Good to see we’re finally getting results out of this mess.

(Hey, screw you man, I’ve conquered three quarters of the country.)

Seliph: And yet, Julia still eluds us… where could she possibly be?

Lewyn: The only options left now are Belhalla and Velthomer. It’s got to be one of those two.

Seliph: And Belhalla is where Julius awaits…

Lewyn: Yeah. We’ll need to find Julia first if we want to go anywhere near Belhalla. Without Julia’s power on our side, we won’t have a hope in hell against Julius.

(Again, not technically true, but you really should listen to him on this one.)

Seliph: But no matter what’s happened, Julius is still her brother. Will she even want to fight him…

Lewyn: … You’ll have to convince her.

(I mean, you’ve met Julius. It won’t be super hard.)

Ishtar: This will require that I leave your side, even for a while. I beg your forgiveness.

Julius: Feh.

Julius: Why the rush to get out there so suddenly, Ishtar? All the soldiers they could ever throw at us could never so much as scratch me. Why even bother with those maggots?

Ishtar: Yes, I know… but for me, there is no greater pride than being one of Freege’s great mages.

(“Saving all those children? Doesn’t even compare.”)

Ishtar: My parents and brother lie dead, and I cannot stand to leave their murderers to run amok… please. All I ask is a chance for vengeance.

Julius: It sounds as if what you really want is to following your family to death on a rebel’s blade! Are you so desperate to escape me, Ishtar?

Ishtar: No… nothing like that, Lord Julius. I love you. Nothing will ever change that.

Julius: Hmhmhmhmhm… I know.  

Julius: Very well! Fight if you must. I won’t stop you.

Ishtar: Thank you… now, I beg your pardon. Meng! Bleg! Mabel! We sortie at once.

(Oh god, we are really scraping the bottom of the name barrel this time. ‘Meng’?  ‘Bleg’?)

Julius: Now, then. I think it’s time we put an end to this sorry show. Deadlords, move out!  And order Arion’s unit to attack!

(… wait, what?)

So. You may recall I told you to remember this moment.

It was important for two reasons.

First: This is the moment the war becomes winnable. You see, Manfroy is not… really all that into Loptyr. Oh, he worships him, but it’s not really about loyalty so much as sadism. Manfroy hates the world, and every single human being in it. His overall goal in life is nothing more or less than to make humanity suffer as much as possible. But he’s generally pragmatic about it. He knew the best way to hurt humanity was to revive Loptyr, who possesses incredible powers and views humans as little better than food to eat and pets to abuse. This moment, right here, is the moment that Manfroy, flush with overconfidence in the presence of his god on earth and having enjoyed a long decade and a half tormenting the entire continent, finally makes a mistake. He lets his sadism overpower his common sense for the first time. And in so doing, he gives us a real shot.

Second: Because he’s still Manfroy, he’s a total fuckwad about it.  

Remember Ayra? Waaaaaaaaay back in Verdane, remember how we recruited Ayra. How we had to get to a castle to turn her non-hostile to us, only she was between the army and the castle and she was trying to kill us the whole time?

Yeah, that’s happening again. Only it’s Julia, our lil’ atomic vampire gatling gun trying to kill us. Of course she’s just as strong as she was when she was on our side, why would you even ask.  Oh, and just for fun…

Here’s the map of what we need to achieve.  The blue X is where we are. The red X is where we need to get to save Julia.  The ravenous piranha is Ishtar’s army, waiting to pounce upon us and tear us limb from bloody limb.  And to her right, marked by the douche, is Julius. You don’t have to fight him, and you in fact definitely should not because getting anywhere near him will also draw the Deadlords out to fight you, but of course has a siege tome now and will cheerfully wreck the shit of anyone who gets anywhere near him, therefore heavily limiting the space we have to move.

And of course, Julia will be trying to kill us the whole time, and we can’t fight back and risk killing her.

And hahaha, yeah, Arion will be showing up soon.  

This is not going to be any fun, is what I’m getting at here.

First thing’s first, let’s take a look at our piranha.  

Ishtar has taken yet another level in badass; her magic has gone up two points, skill by three, luck by 2, defense by eight, and resistance by one. And this time, she’s got an actual army with her instead of fighting us alone; three Snipers, three Heroes, three Sages, three High Priests with Fortify (of course) staves, and of course…. *snerk*…. Bleg, Meng, and Mabel.

They’re three identical Falcon Knights, both in picture and stats, so I’ll only be showing one of them. Despite the intensely crappy names, they honestly three ridiculously dangerous units. They all have Earth Swords, meaning any hit they land is going to heal them, and they’ll be hitting often what with that maxed-out Speed and solid 23 skill. And to make things worse, they all have the Nihil ability to prevent us from just shooting them down with arrows or relying on Astra to solve our problems.  

So! This is going to suck. A lot. But thanks to Ced being awesome, there’s an option I can take to make this a lot more manageable.  Lana sells her Silence staff, and he buys it…

And with his 35 fucking magic he can overpower Ishtar’s 32 Resistance to Silence her up to three times, basically removing Mjolnir from the equation for this battle. And Mjolnir is like… half of this battle’s equation.

I literally cannot believe I’ve never tried this before.  From here, the army moves forward, Seliph leading the way; he’ll be attacked by quite a lot of people here, but he’s a living iron wall of destruction, and the more of these people I can lure away from the main melee, the better.  So. End turn!

(*sigh* Must you, now?)

Arion: Chalphy’s fall to our blades shall be the first step to winning back our fatherland. Now, move in! Show these liberators one final defiance from the drackoknights of Thracia!

A solid enough start! We hurt one Falcon Knight, and didn’t take much damage in return.  And now that Ishtar is in range…  

Oh, that is delicious.  Now, my first goal here is to kill at least one of these three annoyingly fast pega-bitches, but I also have to get Altena (and yes it has to be her, of course it has to be her) down to the castle to intercept Arion.  I hate everything forever.

One down!  Let’s keep this train rolling and clear out some more jerks.

Two out of three ain’t bad!

Okay, I think that’s about all the damage I’m going to get done this turn.  And not bad at all, frankly, so I’m happy.  I have Lene dance Altena, and warp her home with Lana.

Ignore the pentagram. It’s a good pentagram. Down at the bottom, Altena equips Gae Bolg and flies to just outside Arion’s range. The rest of his buddies don’t matter at all, but I don’t want her to fight him. There’s a reason for this, of course. It’s unsatisfying, but it makes her happy.

The things I do for my kids, I swear.

End turn.  

… Huh. They don’t attack her? Or maybe they can’t damage her. I honestly am not sure.

*sniff*

I remember the last time I played this map.

I died five times on this battle alone.

And now it’s going better than the fight against the fucking Beige Knights.

I don’t understand what’s going on.

Altena: How could you be so craven?! How dare you place your vanity and pride over what truly matters!

(You tell him, honey!)

Arion: What do you want from me, then?

(God, don’t ask her that. This LP is not rated Adults Only.)

Altena: Take a good, hard look at Prince Seliph! Ask yourself, this: why is he still fighting? For whom is he out here day after day, setting his own suffering to the side?

Arion: So Seliph fights for justice, and I somehow do not? Is that what you’re trying to say?

(…. YES!)

Altena: Very well, Arion… if you won’t see reason, so be it. Come on. Kill me. End this. My… my life is in your hands. I die with no regrets.

Arion: A-Altena… very well. You can rest easy now. I get it. I was wrong… my mercenary days are at an end, and my final task is with Seliph. Wait… no. With you. I now fight for you, Altena.

Altena: Arion…

Yeah, it would have been neat if you’d done this a few maps ago, jackass, but Arion is on our side now. Or, well, sorta. He doesn’t join the army, but his unit becomes neutral and are programmed to stay close to Altena and be hostile to any Belhalla units that get near them. I know we all sort of wanted to kill him, but he still has Gungnir and I really just didn’t want to risk a screwup when things are going so well.  I mean, I’m not even gonna use him. At this point, letting him get near the enemy would likely result in him rushing Julius and dying, which sorta defeats the point. Let’s just end this; time to wipe out the remains of Ishtar’s unit.

And now, a special treat. Since Ishtar can’t fight, we get to see a conversation that even I have never actually seen.

(…. ‘Nothing but kind’.)

(Just sayin’.)

Ishtar: … I may be in the wrong. But I can’t turn back now. Forgive me, Tinni… please….

And thus passes Princess Ishtar of Freege. She died as she lived: getting nuked by her cousins. And without her leadership stars…

All right. Now, the rest of the army is going to stay right where they fucking are. Julia cannot be trusted to not kill herself, or more troublesome to not kill me.  The only people going forward are Seliph and Ares, who are going to go north across the forest, out of Julius’s range, and try to lure Julia into following them. Their resistance is tremendous, and they’re both on horses. Ideally she’ll try to kill them, fail, and be following them and unable to catch up until I can free her. This will take a few turns of nothing but movement because I will not be going anywhere near Julius.

Trust me.

She seeeeeeeeeees uuuuuuuuuuussssss…

Okay. There’s two things that could happen here. She’s either going to go east and cut us off, in which case we’ll be dodging vampire lasers the rest of the map, or she’s going to go north through the forest and we basically win the game.  Let’s see!

…. Bitch. Okay, straight west you guys! Hide on the healing church, you beautiful bastards. God, haven’t used one of those in awhile, with those fifty healers in the army lining up to zap everyone with staves.

Dammit, Loptyrians, I am trying to flee in terror from a small woman.

Okay. We can do this. Ares heals up, and all we have to do is clear out those priests and kill Manfroy. Go get ‘em, boys!

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Are you fucking kidding me.  

Of all the.

That.

I.

I.

You.

HOW.

What the!

NO.

………………

Well. You know all those times when I was questioning my good fortune? The moments where I was like ‘oh, man, I don’t trust how generous the game is being, bet it’s gonna screw me later!’ Well, that just happened.

*sigh*

End turn. If I survive this, I will be genuinely stunned.

Oh hey it’s as though the Hel tome is really easy to dodge and you should have dodged it all along. But here we go…

(How do you know that’s Manfroy? You’ve never met him…)

Manfroy: So I did. And so long as I live, my puppet she shall remain! Hehehehehe!  She’s every bit as helpless before my magic as her mother was…

Seliph: I should have known. If not for you, Mother… Gah! All of this misery… all these agonizing years… It was all your doing from the outset!

Manfroy: Heh… of course. Everything I’ve done has led to this moment: the revival of my lord Loptyr. And at last, it is so! Loptyr’s advent in the form of Prince Julius is complete, and darkness shall soon engulf the world. You cannot prevent it. Nobody can…

Seliph: Manfroy, you… Father’s grief… Mother’s despair… if not for you and your foul ambitions, none of this would have ever happened… Damn you, Manfroy! I cannot allow you to win! I will not! You’ll NEVER know mercy for your crimes!

Yeah, not the dramatic win I was hoping for after that great speech. But I guess I saw that coming.  Reset! I start off a little differently; Seliph and Ares park themselves on trees. With the 20% dodge bonus, they should have no chance of being hit by Hel, and very little of being hit by Julia. We need to clear out these Dark Mages before we go for Manfroy.

Better! This repeats for all of them; one actually dies because they’re forced to attack at close-range thanks to being blocked off by their own buddies, which is great.

Yeah, yeah.

He only does one damage. Seliph could have survived him with no problem in any other situation. I hate this game sometimes. On our turn, I have Ares and Seliph each clear out a mage…

Then immediately go hide in the woods again. I am playing this as cautious as humanly possible, honestly. Better to spend three turns killing mages than let the reset counter jump up above the number of updates.

The enemy misses again on their turn, because they literally can’t not miss. Two more deaths…

All right! That’s that for dark mages. On the next turn, Ares is going to park his butt on the healing church forever, and Seliph goes to fight Manfroy.

You stay out of this.

Now then. It’s time. It’s time to face Manfroy himself.  In direct combat. The enemy behind it all! The dark schemer who has given over our kingdom to the dark god.  And he…

Is a loser.  I mean, he’s not the worst enemy in the game. He’s okay. But he’s definitely no match for Arvis, or Ishtar, or… anyone with a holy weapon, really.  Which fits, really; his danger is his skill and intellect, not his power.  But considering he’s basically the final boss, it’s a little sad, still.

Seliph. Teach him some manners, bro.

And with two shots, he’s down to six HP.  End turn.

I miss the days when I was the one with the Julia Beams.

*sniff*

God. That is just cathartic to do. Now. With Manfroy off to Hell, where I’m assuming he will meet Hilda and strike up a whirlwind love affair, Seliph can take the castle.

Lewyn: That’s right, isn’t it Felipe?

Felipe: My liege concealed the key within his most treasured memento…. The circlet once worn by Empress Deirdre.

(HURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRK!)

Felipe: If we can find that circlet, sir, the Book of Naga is yours.

Lewyn: Deirdre’s circlet…

And that’s that! Ares runs toward the castle, with intent to lure Julia toward us. Of course she’s still hostile, why are you even asking? She has to talk to Seliph to get back to our side. Tee-hee, Fire Emblem hates you.

God, you are just like your mother. Seliph, go fix this please.

Seliph: It was Manfroy’s dark arts. He brainwashed you into his service.

Julia: Manfroy… that’s right, he caught me…

Seliph: Thank goodness you’re safe.  

Julia: Lord Seliph, I…

Seliph: It’s fine, Julia. I know. Lewyn told me everything. I’m sorry… I failed to protect you.

Julia: No… it’s fine. Don’t worry, Seliph. I finally know why I’ve survived for all these years. I know my fate… I’m fated to fight. I’ll never run away again!

Seliph: You’re right… This is the will of fate, tragic as it is. None can afford to cower or flee now. Until the bitter end, we must march on.

And with that, Julia rejoins the team. She’s just as strong as ever, barring one fact; she’s picked up Deirdre’s circlet, adding Renewal and Miracle to her list of abilities, which is a heck of an upgrade.

But not as good as the one she gets from reaching Velthomer.

Lewyn: It worked… it really worked! And there it is, the Book of Naga! It’s yours for the taking, Julia!

Julia: … Oh! How strange… it feels so warm. It’s almost as if I’ve known this book all my life…

And now, the game is over. See, here’s the thing… Julius is just as dangerous as before, if not slightly moreso. His stats are slightly lower than his first appearance where you are very clearly not meant to fight him, but he still has Loptyr’s game-breaking effect, and his ability list is now Wrath, Pursuit, Nihil, and Accost. So he can double most of our army, null critical hits and combat abilities, and gets a huge critical boost when his health drops below half. And of course, he’s on a castle and gets the defense bonus and health regeneration that gives. Basically, he’s borderline invincible. The only real option if you lose Julia is to have Seliph fight him, and poor Seliph can only do about 15 damage per turn (if he hits) some of which will then be healed.  While getting blasted in the face repeatedly, so you’ll need to get someone in to heal him between rounds, and they’ll very probably die to having Meteors dropped on their head unless you’re very lucky. And then there’s the Deadlords, who are just a pain.  

But if you do have Julia…

Yeah.

YEEEEEEEEEAH.  

Naga is the best weapon in the game. +20 each to Skill, Speed, Defense, and Resistance, instantly turns Julia into a hyper-fast, hyper-accurate, hyper-durable killing machine. And as a light magic tome, it has no disadvantage to any kind of weapon. And, of course, it negates Loptyr’s half-damage effect.  Your reward for the most annoying recruitment in the game is the weapon that ends the game. Big time.

So.  

It’s time to lay back and let Big J play us out, I think. I have her do the Arena, just for old times sake. Nothing even touches her.

Julia: Seven wins, gained two levels. +2 HP, +1 Speed.

About as good as can be expected at this point, honestly. And it…. Doesn’t really matter, you know? She heads to Belhalla, and Julius has no chance to hit her with Meteor, so he doesn’t even try.  The Twelve Deadlords rush up to meet her, of course…

They’re going to regret this. The Deadlords are named for the animals of the Chinese Zodiac, and each one has a different class and some very good weapons and abilities. They’re a dangerous group! Usually.  

One down, eleven to go. End turn.  

And then there were nine.

Sorry, seven.

Six of one, half-dozen of the other.

Fun fact, ‘Lepus’ means ‘Rabbit’. And ‘Dead’.

Well I’ll be! Someone landed a hit!  Too bad Julia did too. Four to go.  

I’m so bad at counting! It’s actually three. Congrats to Equus the Bishop on surviving a round with The Julinator.  But with that, none of the remaining Deadlords will actually take a shot at Julia anymore, so I’m just going to ignore them. It’s time for a family reunion.

(He isn’t wrong.)

Yes, that was a single round of combat. Julius procced his Accost skill and made the fight last an extra round. This… was not helpful to him.

Julius vanishes, the spirit of the dragon arising from the castle as the entire map shakes…

But it’s just bluster. Naga’s power has destroyed Loptyr’s vessel, and with its bloodline finally ended the dragon’s grip on this world is gone. Loptyr returns to whatever void it came from, and with the power that animated them gone, the few surviving Deadlords vanish.  

I’m going to cut out here, but no sense waiting a week, huh? So see you tomorrow for the epilogue, kids. I think we earned it.

Final Reset Total: 30.  Y... yay.

Epilogue