#super-high explosive s-he

[rhk111sblog]

I still have some Pictures from the Asian Defense and Security (ADAS) Event last Year of 2022 that I haven’t released to the Public yet, will try to do so now whenever I can like these ones, the special Artillery Munitions by Elbit Systems. As always, I will be putting better Resolution Versions of these Pictures on Wikimedia Commons later after this Posting

[8lyme]

Why do I have to lose you?

Logan Howlett x reader (gender unspecified)

Part 2

SUMMARY: You and Logan are being chased down by the military after a group of mutants attempted to set fire to the White House. The school instantly became a target. While trying to protect the school in a damaged X-jet, Logan decides your fate for you.

WARNINGS: Sad and a little graphic.

a/n: I am fr gonna do a pt 2 i just didnt want to make this super long like it will probably end up being also again pls give me a break i just gotta free this shit from the straight jacket it's in inside my brain

Within seconds of news footage airing, the whirring of chopper blades surrounded the school.

Since jet takeoff, Storm and Jean had jumped out to help on the ground. Both diverted most of the attacks away from the jet. You and Logan had flown over the masses of machinery that were crawling toward the school. Tanks and trucks filled with armoured soldiers and explosives gathered just outside the tree line. The explosives packed under the jet had long-since run out, hardly making a dent in the wall of troops.

The sensors in the X-jet are whirring, alarms flashing red and blaring. Almost as loud as tornado sirens. You're gripping at the controls, straining at keeping the jet level while a thruster sputters out. A lurch knocks the cabin as another sensor drums on. You pull on a lever to the side of the console in front of you as a hasty attempt to divert power back to the fizzling thruster.

"I think the jet took a hit," Logan calls out loudly over the screech of the alarms.

"No fucking shit!" You call back shakily, head pounding and heart hammering. The windshield is fogged from smoke damage and beginning to crack on the left side.

"You need to fly out of here!" Logan calls again, his voice near monotone.

"Again, no fucking shit!" You whip around to face him and use the opportunity to flip off the interior electricity. The cabin is only illuminated by the windshield, but you can't see Logan.

"We need to land" you say to the shadows of the bay. You glance around, still white-knuckling the controls before calling out "Logan?"

"Let me out" he responds, walking out from the base of the hangar. "Drop the hangar and let me jump out. I can get past the front line and set off the explosives in the trucks"

"Are you stupid? You'll plaster to the ground on impact" you tell him, turning back to the windshield in time to pull away from a stray rocket.

He comes behind you and grips onto your shoulder, forcing you to look his way again.

"Open the hanger and let me jump out" He says firmly. "And then get the hell out of here."

"I don't think you understand how physics works, Logan! I can't bring this jet more than fifteen hundred feet above the ground. You will literally splatter to the ground if you jump from that high."

His grip on your shoulder tightens, saying "I'll survive."

You pull away from him to face the console. "Have you survived a fall from this high before?" You ask over the roar of the thrusters.

"Will you listen to me?" He yells to you, taking your face in his hands. "You need to get out of here. I'll regenerate, you won't! My bones are indestructible -" And you cut him off.

"Your tendons aren't adamantium!" You yell to him, smacking his chest with the side of your hand for emphasis. "Your muscles aren't adamantium and your organs aren't adamantium! The second you jump out of this jet you will get shot out of the sky. How do you know you'll survive getting literally blown up?"

You try not to cry, sucking in a breath in an attempt to stop the stinging behind your eyes. His face is firm. He pulls the straps of your harness so you face him fully.

"You won't survive if this jet gets shot out of the fucking sky!" Logan shouts. "Open the hangar and get the hell out of here!"

"There is no reason for you to jump out of this jet, you self-sacrificial piece of shit!" You're trying to yell firmly, but your breath is shaky and your vision starts to blur. Suddenly, the spring of the chair unlocks and Logan clicks on the jet's autopilot and pushes your chair away from the console, locking it feet away from the controls.

"Logan!" You go to unlock the clasps of your harness as he pulls away from you. He must've crushed the buckles while you were fighting, because you can't unclasp yourself. Panicking, you whip around to try and face him while yanking at the harness as hard as you can.

He's walking toward the hangar while the door loudly begins to unlatch.

"Stop it!" you beg. "I am not going to scour these woods for your metal bones to put you back together and hope that you regenerate!" You begin to sob, pulling at your straps fruitlessly.

He marches back toward you, shouting "And I am not going to watch your empty casket go into the ground!" over the wind. You can see the hurt and panic on his face. He looks furious, but you know how terrified he feels. "I am not going to lose you."

The hangar is wide open now. Crackles of explosions sound off in the background.

"Why do I have to lose you?"

The furrow in his brow softens a little. He moves closer to bend and cup your cheek with his hand. You grip tightly onto his uniform as he kisses you, hoping in vain that you're strong enough to stop him.

Logan pulls away to the sound of the hangar beginning to close. He pries your fingers off him, turns away, and jogs to the lip of the closing door. You watch him leap out as the groan of the door comes to a stop.

Part 2 will be linked here!

[2frosty4you]

mercs with an s/o who’s super considerate with the lives of animals, even insects! but on the battle field they’re like a murder machine? (GN reader)

Mercs with a reader who's kind to animals but a murder machine [Hcs]

| Mercs x GN!reader | 944 words | Masterlist | Ask/Request-box |

╔═════════════════╗

Scout:

Scout watches you take out bugs from the base constantly, be it crickets or beetles they are not dying in your presence. 

You save scout from all the bugs that appear in his room from all the food he eats in his room.

But when your foot merely touches the battlefield? That good personality is thrown out the window and replaced with a bloodthirsty maniac.

Your weapons are more explosive than scouts, think demoman’s weapons.

And you just charge into the enemy crowd, you only will be stopped in your death.

Cue the 60/4 kill to death ratio you have and wave off when scout's jaw is touching the floor in shock.

He rather the more ‘kind’ version of you, at least with him.

Soldier:

Soldier is some of the same, but only to his raccoons

And you are also very soft and cuddly with his raccoons

“What animals do you like?” “My raccoons” “Soldier’s Raccoons”

Soldier and you are a force to be reckoned with.

He doesn't care what weapons you have because you both are going to paint the walls and floor red

You stop to show him a butterfly of American colours and he screams an American chant and runs into the group of enemies with his shovel high. 

He loves you even more when you offer him the head of the enemy soldier with a grin.

Pyro: 

You and Pyro both love all the insects and animals around the base, saving small ladybirds from soldier and saving scout from grasshoppers.

Pyrovision makes it so they don’t see all the gore and death you do

Pyro just skips along with their flamethrower and giggling to themselves as you scream while running into the enemy base.

You come out covered in blood with a badge you stole from a dead body and you clip it to pyro’s suspender.

To them you are just pink, with candy stuck to your side and your hair curled and turned a soft pastel pink.

Yeah, they like how you look after battles.

Engineer: 

He finds it adorable as you show him the small cricket you found in his workshop.

He’s made you a little enclosure for a lizard you found in the base, helping you clean it and care for the large enclosure.

On the battlefield when you skip back to him with a beetle you found to show him.

Then you crack open a spy’s skull as soon as you hear the de-cloak noise.

You stick around his building for a bit, scaring off the Frenchman and engie gives you a kiss before you scamper off to beat men to death.

Heavy:

Heavy is scared mostly, but also proud.

He finds it sweet how you care for all the random animals you come across, even holding up a cat you found (he does not know how you even found it)

You guys now own a very fluffy cat.

Then when his eyes meet yours on the battlefield you are bashing a medic’s head open with your melee weapon, his blood covering your front side.

Its nice knowing you can take care of yourself, but also that you aren't yearning to bash skulls in all the time.

Demoman:

Drunk out of his mind when you place a dog onto his lap

You smile and pat it as the small German shepherd barks and makes demo almost fall off his chair.

He’s gotten used to your kind nature off the battlefield, taking animals to safe spots outside the base and somehow finding a dog which was abandoned.

Demo stays out of your way during battles, as you grasp onto the face of a scout and bash it into the wall. 

He gives you a thumbs up and drinks from his scrumpy bottle. 

He loves you murder machine or not. 

Medic:

He’s proud seeing you go apeshit on the battlefield 

Tries not to mention all his baboon experiments to you, and laughs when you just grab Archimedes like a burger and the bird is just cooing happily.

You protect him during battles, no questions asked.

Heavy might be the brute force and a meat shield but you kill the spies and scouts trying to ambush him.

Hearts in his eyes when you appear covered in blood asking kindly for heals.

He pockets you a lot, you and heavy are the two he sticks to in battle,

Spy:

He’s got photos on photos of animals you've found.

Is happy knowing you can hold your own on the battlefield, but also when you saved him from the enemy soldiers, he thanks you quickly and runs off.

He loves you, but finds your methods of fighting…. barbaric. 

Spy does appreciate how you just pick up the bugs in his smoking room and race to show pyro.

Knows you can take care of yourself but sometimes he stands in your shadow and watches as you pull the heads off the soldier.

You have trinkets from the enemies you've killed and you offer them to him like a cat.

Sniper:

He takes you on camping trips, and the amount of animals you pick up and show to him is nice until he turns around to you holding a baby crocodile.

You love the birds he feeds around his camper-van and you baby the owl he cares for.

He watches you from the scope, and is grateful he isn't on the receiving end of your bullets and fists.

The way you run through enemies with medic healing you makes him just the tinge jealous.

You scare him sometimes.

The Australian knows you wouldn't hurt him but seeing you with a knife scares him.

╚═════════════════╝

[tossawary]

The AVALANCHE group in "Final Fantasy 7: Remake" keeps cracking me up. They're not wearing any face masks to hide their identities when busting into secure SHINRA facilities full of surveillance cameras??? They don't even change outfits when they're not running missions??? It's killing me.

Assuming that they are not outright killing every SHINRA trooper they encounter (maybe they are, idk), even if they weren't being caught on a bunch of surveillance cameras (the opening mission shows this happening), there's like dozens of people who should be able to give relatively detailed descriptions of them??? (Also, I laugh every time the screen says that Cloud has "defeated" a SHINRA trooper. If he's a super soldier swinging that much sharp metal around at high speeds, he should (realistically) be cutting people in half. It is amusing to me to see the people enemies just fall over and the machine enemies get trashed. I find it very cartoony.)

(I am still failing to properly watch my way through this series during work. I personally don't super love the hyperrealistic dolls design style and I don't think it jives all that well with the incredibly cartoony world building, clumsy "as you know" exposition, and wacky gameplay execution so far. It's just not my thing. Yet I found "Ace Attorney" utterly intolerable to watch but very fun to actually play through the wackiness, so I'll give FF7 the benefit of the doubt there and say, "Sure, I assume this is still really fun to actually play and that the world is immersive enough that way.")

This game is a "AAA" remake of a super popular game in a super popular franchise, but they apparently couldn't be bothered to make secondary "civilian" models for Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge? What is this? A cheaply made cartoon series? These characters are waltzing around the slums in their matching bright red bandanas and Jessie, who is apparently a former performer and therefore especially recognizable, is always wearing her silly tit-sculpted armor. AVALANCHE took a crowded passenger train home from their opening terrorist mission when they should rightfully all smell and look awfully beat-up and suspicious after fleeing a massive reactor explosion???

Like, I don't really care if the characters think they're hacking the camera systems here or if the game wants pretty character faces to be visible at all times. I also don't really care about faithfulness to the original setup. They could yank facemasks down during specific cutscenes? Cloud could lose his facemask at a dramatic moment during a cutscene? And Jessie could exclaim over how cute Cloud is at the end of the mission or whatever; you can frame all of their faces as a rewarding reveal at the end of the opener. I know that character models removing clothing is super hard in 3D animation, especially games, but there are storyboarding and model swap tricks for that. You can fake ripping off a facemask relatively easily.

If the point is for SHINRA to know it's them all along and to set them up to take the fall for something later, then AVALANCHE taking greater precautions and the Turks catching them out anyway could be used to make both AVALANCHE and the Turks look more competent / dangerous. Maybe you could generously interpret SHINRA's apparent failure to catch our protagonists out as the corporation being a bloated wreck of greed and incompetent, overly reliant on their technology and wealth, but that still doesn't really excuse for me making the AVALANCHE characters look this reckless. Jessie later visits her SHINRA employees PARENTS' HOUSE in her TERRORIST UNIFORM??? JESSIE, NO!!! That's so dangerous.

There's so much detail in the backgrounds here already! If it's a matter of resources, surely some random mob NPC models could be cut so that I could see Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge in cute civilian wear outside of their missions! I am already suspending so much disbelief for so much of FF7's wacky worldbuilding, but these little details are what's really tripping me up for some reason, like, come on. SHOW ME that these characters are good at what they do by having them take some basic precautions.

I laughingly shared these thoughts with someone and they said (jokingly critical of the game as well) that Barret probably doesn't bother with secrecy because he's already apparently the only big black guy around and almost certainly the only big black guy with a gun for an arm. Which is a point! But also, BARRET!!! YOU'RE A FATHER!!! SUNGLASSES ARE NOT SUFFICIENT ANONYMITY HERE!!! THINK OF MARLENE, MAN!!!

[persesphonestears]

Hello hope you are having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the 141 tf (and a lil Ghost) x M reader, where a mission doesn't go as planned and reader gets separated from the team, the team have to leave reader behind who has already mapped out a route back to base but it could take a couple days. A couple days of little to no food or water and an open wound they told no one about so as not to be a burden but know the risk of infection is high.

Request fill! A little Ghost x Reader action

A/N: HI! Thank you so much for requesting! you genuinely have no idea what it means to me I'm actually so excited to be able to write this for you! I also literally love you now btw

So a little background for the story, Ghost and reader aren't yet in a relationship but are very clearly pining over each other(sorta), Reader has also been a part of the 141 for a good while and has a really good family dynamic with the team!! 

C/W: angst(?), gore, mentions of torture(reader), reader doubts 141, reader gets a major injuries(But its not super talked about), reader’s wounds get infected, Ghost and reader pining for each other at the end but doesn’t actually(technically) get together , also use of y/n and c/s(Call Sign), if there’s anymore lemme know

This was meant to be an easy and a ‘get in get out' mission. How did everything go to shit so quickly?

The 141 moved in to go investigate the small town. Lasswel sent in information to Price a couple days earlier saying some important intel had somehow fallen into the hands of the wrong people and they had to retrieve it. Hopefully as well in the process figure out how the intel got into their hands.

“Everyone move in go” Price was heard through their comms, Everyone starting to move in when a loud noise and force sent the group of highly trained men forwards. “WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK WAS THAT?!” Price yelled into his comms, everyone could hear the distress in his voice. How'd they know the 141 was going to be there.

“Bomb sir! They must know we're her-” The Scotsman was cut off by the rain of bullets that was sent out. Throughout the rain of fire more explosives went off effectively getting 4 of the SAS group to stay together while one was separated.

“Everyone here?” A gruff British accent called out into his comms, looking around throughout the bullets and dust of the battle ground. “SIR I DON'T SEE C/S ANYWHERE!” Gaz screamed out, looking around frantically. Price looked at his team, a grave look on his face as he spoke, “We have to leave. We'll get c/s back you know we don't leave each other behind but going in there right now will get all of us killed” They went off. Not before Ghost stopped giving another look around, concern evident in his eyes, as he looked around for his other teammate.

-time skip- 

<Your POV>

Everything hurts. My head was throbbing. My arms were stuck above my head, cold metal digging into my skin. Opening my eyes, unsurprisingly to see a damp, gloomy, musty and uncomfortable room. No windows, and a single light hanging from the roof and a total of four high up holes in the wall, out of reach. Even if I wasn’t tied up.

“Well we'll look who's awake” My eyes concentrate onto a silhouette outside of the metal bars in front of me. “You've been out for a long time you know, Thought your own body would kill you before we got a chance to talk.” He chuckles as he walks into my view. Walking into the cell he gets closer to my face. Looking away as to not continue looking at him. Grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “Now why don't you tell me the rest of the information I need, hm? won't you be a good boy and tell me what i need to know.”

“Go to hell, dirtbag” I scoff, shaking my head away from his grip. Sometimes I wish I kept my mouth shut. A scream ripped out of my throat. Tears building up in my eyes, the pain shooting up from my leg, the gruelling feel of the knife twisting into my flesh. 

Why haven't they come for me yet? I don't want to have to do this for god knows how long. “Common, just tell me what I want. You do that, this'll stop you know. Just work with me here.” Smirking at me, he realised I wasn't going to be giving up anything that he wanted to know.

And so he just continued. The stabbing, The burning, the Jesus, everything. The more screams that came out of my mouth instead of the information he wanted angered him more. It wouldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. Neither would my screams. The screams that seemed to just egg him on. 

And so he continued, gladly at that. Giving me the minimal amount of water to make sure I wouldn’t pass out from dehydration. He was loving it. Coming in every minute he had the time to torture me. Mercilessly, he just won’t stop.

Surely my team, Ghost at least, Ghost has to come get me soon. It’s Ghost, he’s the best out of us. He’ll be able to find me. I know he will. He has too! I mean it’s Ghost, Ghost will save me, He’ll be worried and he’ll rescue me.

-very lil baby skip-

He hasn’t come for me. No one has. The torture has continued. I’m pretty sure I’ve gained some lovely new permanent scars. Everywhere. Being stripped down to my tank and boxers, forcing the harsh weather to have more of an effect on my body then it may have been.

I can’t do this anymore. Every plan I’ve tried so far has failed. There's been absolutely no signs or showings of the 141. They still haven’t come for me. I’m so tired. How could they do this to me? Ghost. Ghost out of all people, out of everyone he hasn’t come for me. I thought maybe he would’ve- no it doesn’t matter.

The creaking and screeching of doors opening, revealing the person I would least like to see. “How’s my little rat doing, hm? You don’t look so good, now do you?” laughing at his seemingly hilarious joke. Looking away from him, I’m not giving anything he wants. Despite losing faith in his team, he wasn’t going to ruin his reputation in the SAS.

Keeping my mouth shut, of course angers him. I think if I spoke back it would’ve angered him. So surprise surprise grabbing my chin, making me look at his grossly greasy face, the evil smirk gracing (if you could say that) his ugly mug. “You make this so fun for me, you know that?” He chuckles. For fucks sake. Here we go again.

-another time skip(sorry i'm lazy and don't want this so be too long)-

<No one's/3rd Person POV>

Without y/n’s knowledge Ghost was screaming at everyone and everything. He was so stressed. He didn’t know if you were alive, if you were okay, if you had gotten out. After getting separated from you they couldn’t find you. Of course filing you M.I.A for the time being. The reality of the situation setting on even harder for Ghost as he had to read your file, the addition of the daunting letters gracing your profile sent him into a frenzy.

He was snappy, angry, stressed, short tempered and all of the above. He couldn’t get any information on where you might be and it was absolutely driving him absolutely insane. Soap, Gaz and even Price weren't able to help him calm down. They themselves were stressed. Worried for your well being. No one had been able to get into contact with you. Even Lasswel had tried getting information on where you might be or even where the people who had taken you may have ended up.

Everyone and anyone were walking on eggshells around the stressed four men. Though no one dared to go close to Ghost, he hadn’t been sleeping, eating, or keeping himself healthy. Not only were you not there to keep him sane, you weren’t there to remind him. To bring him tea made the exact way he liked it. Not finding his favourite sweets on his desk with a sticky note teasing him about being dark and gloomy but loving bright and overly sugary sweets. He hadn’t realised how much you kept him sane. How much your being made him okay, How much you made him feel like Simon again.

It'd have to have been over a month or two. Though within that month or so here y/n stood, bloodied and bruised. Severe wounds littered his body as he limped through the bloodied halls of where he was once locked up in. Shrugging the last body of dead weight off of him, after stealing someone's clothes. Surprisingly not wanting to find out how to leave here while in his raggedy tank top and his boxers. Fiddling with the keys he found, continuing to limp throughout this god awful place.

Finally navigating his way out, seeing the sun for the first time in what truly felt months, years even. Being tortured every second of being down there, with i cleaned blades, dirty bloody kitchen tools, seemingly anything and everything unclean they could find. Effectively forcing most if not all wounds to become infected.

His body is wasting away, no food and the smallest amount of water to keep him alive. Continuing to walk or limp his way through wherever this shitty place is. Finding a car while limping to the car, finding the keys in his pants, trying them on the car, not believing his luck when it opens. 

Driving, non stop till he finally saw the bloody annoying colours of the barracks he called his home. The soldiers taking watch noticed immediately of the unidentified car coming to their quarters. The 141 run out wondering what's going on, seeing the car, they grab their guns and aim it at the car. Everyone else yelling out at the person to get out of the car. The door opens to reveal none other than their missing teammate. Ghost stood there frozen. Not only were you alive, you got out of there yourself.

Ghost running over to you after breaking out of his shock. He grabbed you and pulled you into his arms. Holding you up as you finally let tears fall, knees buckling under your weight as you held onto Ghost, your Ghost for what felt like your life depended on it. “Are you okay, Love? Holy shit I thought you were dead. We couldn’t find you, I’m so so sorry Darling’” He whispered to you as he carried you to the medic centre. The 141 following a good few feet away.

Placing you down on a bed, pulling off his mask, chuckling at the shock on your sunken eyes. Placing a kiss on your forehead he whispered sweet nothings to you as you used him as a personal heater. A know on your door pulling you away from your moment with Ghost, in walked Price, Gaz and Soap. “Glad yer’ ‘right” Soap spoke softly, giving you a fist bump, “We’re so proud of you kid.” Price’s moustache twitched upwards as he looked down at you. “Yeah like holy shit dude! You got out of there by yourself! You gotta tell us all about it!” Laughing softly at Gaz’s way of making you feel better.

Not only could they see how worn out and just purely unwell you were, they couldn’t help but feel their heart well at the smiles and chuckles you gave while speaking to them. The same goes with you. You could see all of them, the worry and relief of seeing you safe and okay being in front of them. Seeing Ghost, the most dishevelled out of the four men standing above the medical bed, was like having everything bad that had happened to you become better, knowing he did try and you did mean something to him.

After the other three left, Ghost sat, with his mask back on, as you got hooked up to fluids and held your hand while getting your wounds cleaned, and unfortunately the deep clean as most of your wounds had deep and good infections so a good and thorough clean was needed.  Once it was again just you and Ghost, his mask back off. Both men smiling softly at one another. “You're getting sleepy there darling” Ghost chuckled standing up and pulled the covers over you, again kissing your forehead.

“Ghost?” “Hm?” Ghost turning around, and chuckled at you, arms out, waiting expectantly for a hug from the big and scary stoic man. Giving in, he lent down and carefully hugged you. Leaning back up slowly you looked up at him and let out in a soft whisper “Stay with me? Please?” And without a second thought he grabbed a spare blanket and sat down next to you. “Get some sleep. You need it. And before you argue, that’s an order.” chuckling at him and cuddling up with the blanket you closed your eyes, safe, hydrated and a full stomach, but most importantly with Ghost.

A/N: I'm probably gonna make a part two if you guys want one! I really love stories like this and stuff, with like with the angst, i like pain🫶

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(GFL Short Fic) "Holding out for a T-Doll"

Alternative title: "Local Woman Too Angry To Die"

On an infiltration mission to the inner cities, AK-15's S/O has been kidnapped due to their relation with Griffin and Kruger.

Unfortunately for the kidnappers, Task Force DEFY has a tracker on every member of the squad, and they do not take kindly to anyone attacking their own. Post-edit note: SURPRISE SONG FIC!...People still do these, right? This feels super corny but also kinda funny. It's like writing a 90's action flick. Word Count: 2.3K

AK-12's eyes scanned the building, her glowing pink irises subtly changing colors every few seconds.

AK-15, RPK-16, and AN-94 said nothing as they watched from on top of a skyscraper, looking downward at the warehouse.

(AK-12) "Confirmed. I'm reading S/O's tracker in there."

(AK-15) "Threat assessment?"

(AK-12) "Humans. Doesn't look to be affiliated with Sangvis, or any of the protesters in the city. Might just be human traffickers."

(AN-94) "Our orders were not to cause a scene-"

(RPK-16) "Kind of hard to do when AK-15's beloved is taken, is it not?"

AK-15 just crossed her arms, making no visual recognition of the teasing.

(AK-15) "This is not a matter of relations. S/O is simply a comrade in arms, and a vital source of information on the inner workings of Griffin. If they were to be sold to Sangvis, it could have dire consequences."

(AK-12) "I'm sure that's the entire reason."

AK-15 glared daggers at 12, who simply just shrugged while keeping her smug smile.

(AK-12) "Regardless, I agree. You'll be happy to know I'm ordering that we're going loud, given our primary mission was already accomplished before this whole ordeal happened."

(AN-94) "Our orders?"

(AK-12) "94, get us a ride out of the city and call for the Commander. We're going home after this. Had enough of this place, anyway."

AN-94 nodded and moved downstairs. AK-12 turned to RPK-16.

(AK-12) "I want you to provide cover fire and a distraction to catch their attention. We'll signal when we're all ready, and commence the rescue on your signal. AK-15, you'll be our vanguard to save S/O. I'll move in the shadows to secure your escape in case they get any funny ideas. I also didn't scan anything that could be a significant threat other than a few low grade explosives."

(AK-15) "Understood."

AK-15's ponytail flowed in the wind, stomping towards the stairs and her scowl growing angrier by the second, quickly followed by the other two members of DEFY.

...

S/O remained tied up in the chair with a piece of cloth crudely fastened over their mouth. The two men in the room spat on the ground looking at them and left.

(Guard 1) "Why the hell aren't we just killing them, they're part of a fuckin PMC with those tin cans!"

(Guard 2) "Apparently boss said we can get some money if we talk to the right people. Let's just-"

The intercom suddenly came alive in the warehouse, making the two men grab their weapons.

(Guard 2) "The hell?!"

The intercom began blasting music at such a high volume that it made them recoil. It was quickly accompanied by several men shouting and rushing throughout the warehouse with their weapons at the ready.

The two went towards the main lobby that had crates and all sorts of construction equipment scattered, everyone taking positions. One of the guards stood near the door where the intercom system, trying to turn the music off.

(Guard) "Turn that fucking thing off already!"

(Guard) "I-I can't! Things not-"

A fist suddenly came through the wall and intercom, grabbing the guard's face and violently dragged him away as he screamed, startling everyone and making them aim their weapons at the rubble.

Before anyone could get a sense of what was happening, the same body burst through the rubble, a massive, angry looking woman dressed in black with a long white ponytail emerged, her light purple eyes glowing.

A panicked guard pulled the trigger once, a single gunshot reflecting off her shoulder, and all she did was give them a glare, scaring the absolute hell out of everyone further.

AK-15 dove behind a crate as gunfire rained down all around her. Trying to analyze the area, she then recognized what song was playing over the intercom.

"Where have all the good men gone And where are all the gods?

(AK-15) "...Seriously?"

"Where's the streetwise Hercules To fight the rising odds?"

An exacerbated sigh left AK-15's mouth before she refocused her attention, reloading the pistol the guard she killed had. Some of the guards had moved to flank her while her position was suppressed, which she immediately turned to shoot.

"Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed "

She pulled the trigger three times, each one entering the head of S/O's kidnappers, and AK-15 snuck around the corner they had entered.

"Late at night, I toss and I turn And I dream of what I need"

She stopped right at the end of the crates as the gunfire followed her position. Without warning, a hail of bullets tore through the upper windows, hitting every one of the guards trying to pin her down. AK-15 grunted in thanks, which RPK spoke up.

(RPK-16's Voice) "Coming from the door on your left."

"I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night"

AK-15 saw the door swing wide open, and before the men inside could open fire, she kicked the forklift towards them. The machine skidded across the floor and slammed right into the doorframe.

"He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast And he's gotta be fresh from the fight"

Wasting no time, she sprinted up the stairs as more guards came from below, all attempting to shoot her.

She didn't bother to fire back as she dodged the oncoming bullets, knowing that with every second passing, S/O might be in more danger.

"I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light"

The door she was about to enter had another group exit, one that noticed her approach far too late. She grabbed one of them by the collar and effortlessly tossed them over the railing before punching the next one in her way.

(AK-15) "Get out of my way."

"He's gotta be sure, and it's gotta be soon And he's gotta be larger than life Larger than life"

One of the guards managed to open fire, she was far too close to escape, and the bullet tore into her chest. Even though she felt some amount of pain, she clenched her teeth in ever increasing anger, grabbed the arm holding the gun and snapped it like a toothpick.

With a vicious headbutt, she completely knocked them out and more than likely broke their nose and some of their teeth.

"Somewhere after midnight In my wildest fantasy"

Hearing the fight happening outside, S/O tried to get out of their restraints until a guard ran into the room. The guard immediately had their weapon pulled out and wrapped their arm around S/O's neck, backing away in fear from the door.

"Somewhere, just beyond my reach There's someone reaching back for me"

AK-15 disposed of another group that tried to engage her in close quarters and failed.

Finishing off the last one in the hallway with a bullet to their chest, she felt her head budge towards the wall, accompanied by a metallic clang.

"Racing on the thunder And rising with the heat"

Turning towards the source, one of the guards had gotten up and stared in horror at the metal pipe that was now completely bent in their hands.

"It's gonna take a Superman to sweep me off my feet"

She grabbed the pipe from them and slammed it against their head, the pipe shattering completely as she found S/O's signature, right behind the door with another guard, using them as a shield.

"I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night"

S/O and the guard saw the outline of a massive figure standing outside the door, making the guard panic even more.

(Guard) "C-COME IN, AND I'LL PULL THE TRIGGER!"

"He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast And he's gotta be fresh from the fight"

The door flew off the hinges and almost slam into the both of them, the guard diving out the way and aiming for S/O. AK-15 rushed in and immediately got in front of S/O, with her back tanking an onslaught of bullets that opened fire.

S/O looked horrified, more for AK-15 than themselves. She clenched her teeth making sure not to move until the only noise was clicking.

"I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light"

AK-15 spun around and was prepared to mutilate S/O's attacker before AK-12 leapt down from the vent, on top of the guard and knocking him out.

Her pink eyes glowed in the darkness, addressing them coldly, devoid of her usual emotions.

"He's gotta be sure, and it's gotta be soon And he's gotta be larger than life"

(AK-12) "Everyone blocking your escape is dead. Proceed."

AK-15 nodded and ripped off the restraints on S/O, being a bit more gentle when it came to their mouth.

(S/O) "T-Thank you!"

(AK-15) "Do not thank us yet. We have yet to escape."

(S/O) "Right...By the way, what's with this music?"

(AK-15) "I do not know, I just wish we could've used a less annoying distraction."

(S/O) "If it's annoying you, then it must be annoying the enemy, right?"

AK-15 made a noncommittal grunt before they moved to escape.

"Up where the mountains meet the heavens above Out where the lightning splits the sea I could swear there is someone, somewhere watching me"

AK-15, S/O, and AK-12 ran out the room and down the hallway, kicking open the door they found an empty parking lot. They stood on catwalk that was dozens of feet above the ground.

And without waiting, AK-15 carried S/O bridal style and leapt off with AK-12, making them scream in surprise.

"Through the wind and the chill and the rain And the storm and the flood"

As soon as they landed, several of the guards burst out from the door across from them and tossed grenades at the three.

I can feel his approach like a fire in my blood

AK-15 dropped S/O before grabbing a nearby dumpster, dragging it across the ground and slammed it in front of them, right as the explosions went off.

AK-12 covered S/O as debris ran down, tearing apart their already dirty and battered suits.

(Like a fire in my blood, like a fire in my blood Like a fire in my blood, like a fire in my blood, blood)

Before the guards could do anything else, they dove for the concrete when a wild barrage of bullets almost took their heads off, firing wildly across the wall.

I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night

RPK-16 continued to lay down suppressive fire as AN-94 sped into the parking lot, slamming on the brakes and kicking open the door towards the side her comrades were on.

"He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast And he's gotta be fresh from the fight"

Not needing to say anything else, AK-15 picked up S/O like a suit case and threw them into the back seat, quickly joining as AK-12 closed the door behind them.

As the bullets flew through the windows, AK-15 held S/O tightly to shield them from any potential stray shot.

"I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light"

AN-94 put the pedal to the metal, quickly escaping the warehouse and dodging oncoming traffic and onto the main road so they could not get tailed.

Once they were out of harm's way, S/O took a deep breath as AK-15 released her grip on them.

"He's gotta be sure, and it's gotta be-"

(AK-15) "Turn that off already."

AK-12's pink irses flashed gray before she closed her eyes, the music in the car being shut off. As soon as her eyes closed, her signature smile came back.

RPK-16 rolled up her windows as she turned the safety on her machine gun.

(RPK-16) "I thought the song was quite fitting, honestly."

(S/O) "That was intentional?"

(AK-12) "It was. Clearly it was worth it, seeing how you're in the car with us now."

S/O looked worried at how damaged everyone was. AK-15's suit was almost threads, with the amount of bullets that either flew off her, or entered.

AK-12 and RPK-16 did not fare any better, and even AN-94 had parts of her blue suit scorched with black marks.

(S/O) "I'm...I'm so sorry, everyone. One second I was inside my room, and the next-"

(AK-15) "The fault is mine. You were supposed to be under my watch and-"

(RPK-16) "I don't think it particularly matters whose fault it is. After all, we're still breathing, aren't we?"

(AN-94) "Affirmative. Our damage is superficial. Yours is not."

(S/O) "...I guess I can at the very least say, thank you."

(AK-12) "Hm.~ Apology accepted. Besides, if we let even one of those men lay a finger on you, 15 would've torn us to shreds."

(AK-15) "Please, shut up already."

S/O laid a hand on her back and felt a piece of metal slightly out of place, making them recoil. Sighing, AK-15 grabbed their hand.

(AK-15) "I will be fine. I am entering sleep mode for the duration of the drive."

S/O nodded and moved to give her space before realizing AK-15's grip was not budging. She wanted their hand there. Slightly blushing at that, they rested onto her as well, both of them sleeping.

(AN-94) "A Griffin Black Hawk will be picking us up as soon as we reach the destination."

(AK-12) "Which is how long?"

(AN-94) "Four hours."

(AK-12) "Make it three. I already feel like I'm intruding on their love nest just sensing them."

(AN-94) "Understood."

(RPK-16) "...That song sure is interesting. Music in general is quite fascinating, given how humans normally are-"

AK-15's eyes opened and glanced over to RPK-16.

(AK-15) "Do not start singing it."

RPK just smiled and looked out the window as AK-12 scooched away from S/O and AK-15.

The duration of their escape was a quiet but surprisingly comfortable one. DEFY's mission was successful, and they were leaving with every member accounted for.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Sunshine

Summary: Steve pays a visit to the Smithsonian’s new exhibit honoring Captain America, and a little bit of sunshine unexpectedly breaks through his cloudy day.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for a candid depiction of depression and its symptoms, and brief depictions of PTSD

A/N: I wanted to start this new one-shot collection off with a look into Steve’s POV, specifically when he meets (Y/N) in the Smithsonian. It was my favorite moment to write in The Winter Soldier and I had so much fun revisiting it from a new perspective! Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope that you enjoy!

Sunshine March 2014 Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, Washington D.C. (Fanfiction Masterlist)

Although it had been over two years since he’d been discovered alive and frozen in time within the wrecked remnants of Schmidt’s plane, Steve Rogers still didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He had work, of course; completing missions on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. was familiar, reminiscent of his past and all the work he’d done alongside the SSR as the leader of the 107th tactical team throughout the war. But outside of work, he struggled to find ways to keep himself occupied. The notebook he filled with seventy years of various pop culture references kept him busy but as his understanding of the 21st century grew, so too did the disconnect he felt from the people and places that surrounded him.

So, on a beautiful spring afternoon that others were no doubt spending with their friends and family, Steve found himself sitting alone in the screening room of the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum’s ‘Captain America: A Living Legend and Symbol of Courage’ exhibit. The filmed testimonials of various men and women who’d been directly or indirectly impacted by his actions included an emotionally-charged interview of Peggy Carter from the early 1950’s, several years after the creation of S.H.I.E.L.D. and her promotion to its first Director. Her hairstyle was different and her brown eyes had the hardened look of someone who’d seen far too much pain in such a short span of time, but to Steve she looked exactly the same as she had when they’d fought through Schmidt’s mountain fortress together in 1945.

“That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve…Captain Rogers, he fought his way through a Hydra blockade that had pinned our allies down for months.”

Steve remembered the battle, just as he remembered each and every battle before and after. His elevated body temperature and high metabolism kept him from feeling the chill of the blizzard that raged on as he fought, but nothing in the super-soldier serum could keep his body from going numb when he saw the frozen and broken bodies of hundreds of soldiers scattered amongst the snow. He squeezed his eyes shut to stop himself from visualizing the explosions ripping through Panzers and hearing the roaring gunfire ricocheting off his vibranium shield, and he took a deep breath before opening his eyes and refocusing on Peggy.

“He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would…who would become my husband, as it turned out. Even after he died, Steve was still changing my life.”

He looked down at the compass in his hands and studied the black-and-white photograph he’d clipped out of a newspaper back in ‘44. He was happy that Peggy had gotten to live a long and happy life surrounded by loved ones and he made sure to tell her every time he visited her in the nursing home, but he couldn’t help but envy her a little; she’d lived the life he’d always wanted back before he took the serum and became Captain America, but after all he’d seen and done since, he wasn’t even sure what sort of life he wanted to live. He was lost in an unfamiliar world filled with people who believed he should be grateful for a chance at a new life and who didn’t care to know how he truly felt about his situation. It didn’t take him very long to learn that only one thing remained constant after seventy years: the rest of the world only saw Captain America, the Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan, and not Steven Grant Rogers, the kid from Brooklyn who hated bullies and who only wanted to do the right thing.

The video continued to play as Steve stood and exited the screening room, slipping his hands into his jacket’s pockets and bowing his head while he went. The rest of the exhibit was filled with tourists eagerly examining artifacts from his life before and during his time of service, and Steve felt a familiar twinge of discomfort at the sight; it’s like they don’t understand that they belonged to real people and not characters from a story, he thought to himself as he walked past a group of young adults snidely critiquing Dum Dum Dugan’s combat gear displayed on a mannequin along with the rest of the 107th tactical team. There were far fewer people near the display dedicated to Bucky, so Steve gravitated towards it and studied the old photograph of his best friend; he was smiling and there was still a sparkle of life in his eyes, eyes that hadn’t yet seen the brutality of war, the unspeakable horrors concocted by the Nazis and the gruesome torture inflicted on him by Hydra while he was a POW.

Steve’s memories of Bucky and that fateful mission in the Alps were suddenly interrupted when the young woman standing in front of him turned and collided with his chest, dropping her notebook onto the ground and scattering its loose papers across the floor; she immediately knelt and began gathering up the sheets and Steve winced at the accident he’d inadvertently caused. “Sorry! Here, let me help you with that.” He kneeled on the ground before her and assisted her. “I wasn’t paying attention, I’m sorry-”

“I’m the one who should say sorry, I was so wrapped up in writing that I didn’t see…” The young woman’s voice faltered when she looked up from their shared work and her (Y/E/C) eyes widened in recognition. “Steve?”

Steve’s own eyes widened as he finally recalled just where he’d seen the woman before. “(Y/N), right? From yesterday morning?”

(Y/N) nodded. “That’s me.” She took the papers and tucked them inside her well-worn notebook as they stood. “What brings you to the Smithsonian?”

He shrugged and took a moment to adjust the bill of his baseball cap while he thought up a suitable answer. “I had the day off, and I guess I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. What about you?”

“Research,” She answered with a smile as she proudly brandished her notebook. “I’m writing a novel, so I was looking up information on Soviet Cold War-era missiles. Then when I finished with that, I thought I’d also see what all the fuss was about. I actually had another spark of writing inspiration before I smacked into you just now.”

Steve’s brows rose with interest. “You’re a writer? Have I heard of any of your work before?”

“Well, this novel I’m working on is actually my first.” They both stepped aside to let a group of schoolchildren read Bucky’s display. “I’m trying to become a historical fiction novelist, and I chose to write about the Cold War for my first novel.” Steve couldn’t help but admire the brightness in her smile and how the simple gesture illuminated her entire face, so much so that he nearly missed her question. “So, what do you think? Is everything here historically accurate?”

“Pretty much. What do you think of it?”

(Y/N) considered his question for a moment before answering. “I don’t know yet; on one hand, I think it’s great that an exhibit like this exists to educate people, especially children, about history, but part of me can’t stop thinking that it’s also an invasion of privacy.” Taken slightly aback by her reply, Steve frowned in confusion and watched as she gestured towards the many display cases surrounding them. “Like these, for example. These are private sketches of your family and friends that I’m sure you never meant for others to see. And over there, they have your underwear on display, for God’s sake!” A nearby middle-aged couple threw her a disapproving glare at her exclamation and Steve did his best to stifle his chuckle. “I don’t know, I think that they should show more respect when they create exhibits like this, especially if the person they’re about is still alive. You may be Captain America, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a little privacy, too.” The earnestness and underlying indignation in her words of defense took him by surprise, and it wasn’t until her head tilted to the side in curiosity that he registered the small smile playing on his own lips. “What is it?”

“Nothing…you just sound a little different from most of the people I’ve met since coming out of the ice.” Steve looked over at his best friend’s display and awkwardly cleared his throat as he struggled to keep their conversation going. “It’s lucky that I ran into you, actually, I was gonna try and stop by the VA today but I have no idea what the address is.”

“Oh, I’ve got it right here!” She reached into her pocket for her cell phone and began tapping away. “Let me see, where did I-ah, found it! It’s 50 Irving Street Northwest. All you have to do is go down North Capitol-wait, it might be 6th Street instead…and of course, no signal in here…” A small line formed between her brows as she frowned. “Urgh, if I had my car with me, I’d just give you a ride since I’m going there later anyways but Sam took it to work this morning…”

“I could always give you a ride, if you want?” Steve blurted out, praying that he wouldn’t start blushing as she considered his abrupt but sincere offer. “It’d be no trouble at all.”

(Y/N)’s smile brightened her expression and she nodded. “Okay, then. I’m pretty much done here, so just let me know when you wanna leave.”

“Let’s go.” They walked out of the exhibit and Steve snuck a clandestine look at the writer walking beside him; she was undoubtably pretty, with strikingly intelligent (Y/E/C) eyes and lips that seemed perpetually ready to curve into a teasing smile, and just as he’d done the day before when they’d first met by the National Mall, he compared her to sunshine breaking through a cloudy sky. She was vivacious and so full of life – a shining example of a modern 21st century woman – but at the same time, something about the way she talked and carried herself reminded him of a different time. He’d gone on a couple of dates since coming out of the ice but up to that point, the only woman he felt comfortable being around was Natasha, his coworker and occasional mission partner at S.H.I.E.L.D.; with (Y/N), though, he felt unusually at ease and the only discomfort came from the shyness she brought out in him. C’mon, Rogers, there’s nothing scary about just talking to her, he scolded himself before swallowing thickly and speaking up. “So, how far along are you with your novel?”

“I’m actually almost done with it, thank God. Not that I don’t enjoy writing, of course, but some days it feels like I’ve been writing this thing for a decade.” (Y/N) hitched the strap of her messenger bag higher on her shoulder and flashed him a thankful smile as he held the museum’s front door open for her. “Today was my last day of research. All I need to do is finish writing the last few chapters and then I can send them to my publisher for final approval.”

Steve smiled at the enthusiasm he detected in her voice. “Have you already chosen a title?”

“It’s called For Queen and Country, but there’s a funny story about how that came to be. I originally titled it The Détente Paradox, because the novel chronicles how a female MI5 agent discovers a plot to infiltrate and destabilize peace talks between the United States and the U.S.S.R.; my publisher argued that even if American readers knew the English translation, they wouldn’t understand the story from the title alone-”

“The Relaxation Paradox; makes perfect sense to me.” Steve felt himself flush as (Y/N)’s brows rose in surprise. “I, um, speak a little French. Sorry, you were saying?”

She looked impressed as they made their way towards the museum’s parking lot. “The criticism got under my skin and I couldn’t think of anything else until one night, my publisher called me after binge-watching some classic James Bond movies with his wife. In a couple of them, James Bond sometimes says he does the things he does as a spy ‘for Queen and country,’ and-wait, do you know about James Bond?”

“Nope, but I’ll go ahead and add him to the list,” Steve replied as he pulled out his notebook and jotted down the fictional spy’s name.

“So anyway, my publisher convinced me to change the title to For Queen and Country. I’d hate to boost his ego, but it sounds a lot better than anything I thought of.”

Tucking the notebook back into his pocket, Steve scanned the parking lot for any potential threats while he remarked, “In my day, authors usually sent a completed novel to a publisher instead of sending it in separate parts. I guess that’s changed, too?”

“No, that hasn’t changed; this publishing company’s co-owned by one of my old friends from high school who also happens to be the only person I trust to edit my writing. My situation is a little unorthodox, though; to convince his publishing partner to give a first-time novelist like me a chance, he’s been giving him some of my short stories to read. His partner likes them so far, so as long as I keep sending in things that he enjoys he might agree to publish my novel once it’s finished.”

Steve hummed to himself, even more impressed by the writer walking beside him than he already was. “Sounds stressful.”

“Well, it’s not ideal but it makes balancing research and work a little easier, and I’m not about to quit now, not while I’m so close to being published.” (Y/N) shrugged and looked over at him with a kindly smile on her face. “But what about you? What’re you doing to keep busy these days?”

Hastily deciding that (Y/N) didn’t need to know how he spent his free time alternating between visits with his ninety-three year old first love and moping alone in his apartment, Steve replied, “I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. Whenever I have some free time I read the internet and go through my list to mark things off. I didn’t have much to do this morning, so I listened to some of the soundtrack from American Graffiti; it’s not what I’m used to, but I liked it. All the songs sound unique from one another.”

The writer’s eyes lit up when he mentioned her music recommendation, and he felt his heart stutter at the beautiful sight. “Right? My mom was born in the sixties so she grew up listening to that type of music. Whenever my brother and I had to help on chore day, she’d put on her old records so that we’d have something fun to listen to while we cleaned the house.” They walked through the parking lot and as they turned down an aisle, Steve subtly checked that they weren’t being followed while an unaware (Y/N) continued to talk. “Sam thinks that music from that era is too cheesy, but this is also the guy who thinks that Marvin Gaye’s better than Jimi Hendrix so what the hell does he know?” He stopped beside his motorcycle and she sucked in a quick breath. “Is this yours?”

“Yep, it’s a Harley-Davidson Street 750. The one back there in the exhibit’s a Harley, too, a modified ’42 WLA Liberator. I’ve always preferred motorcycles to cars, so it was nice to see that they haven’t changed too much over the-” The rest of his sentence died in his throat when he caught sight of the unreadable expression on (Y/N)’s face, and his heart instantly plummeted in his chest. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you that I didn’t have a car. If you’re not comfortable with-”

“No, no, it’s okay, I’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle!” (Y/N)’s exclamation took him by surprise, but he managed to return her excited smile with one of his own. “Do you have a spare helmet?” He pulled a helmet out of the bike’s back compartment and tossed his baseball cap into it, trying his best not to think about how cute she looked when she placed the helmet on her head. “Wait, what about yours?”

Steve flashed her a teasing grin. “Super-soldier, remember?” She rolled her eyes as he swung a leg over the bike and sat, giving the empty space behind him a pat before placing his hands back on the handlebars. “Hop on.” She followed his direction with less than perfect grace, doing her best to respect his personal space while also trying her hardest not to fall flat on her face, and Steve bit back a smile as he watched her progress in the rearview mirror. “I’ll be able to hear you over the engine noise, so feel free to give directions as we go. And make sure to hold on tight, okay?”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

Chuckling, Steve revved up the engine and backed out of the parking spot; the writer seated behind him predictably panicked at the sudden movement and involuntarily moved her hands from beneath her seat to rest on his waist, causing Steve to blush as he gently took hold of her hands and guided her to wrap her arms around his torso. If he weren’t a super-soldier with heightened abilities, he almost certainly would’ve crashed the motorcycle because of how distracted he found himself by (Y/N)’s presence. He could feel the warmth of her body through his jacket and smell the faint scent of her perfume as she clung onto him and on a wild impulse, he sped up and grinned when she shrieked in delight and tightened her hold on him. True to his word, he heard her give him directions amidst her laughter and much to his disappointment, they reached the VA in under fifteen minutes.

Steve parked the motorcycle in front of the building and switched off the engine before turning in his seat to look at his beaming passenger. “So, how was your first ever motorcycle ride?”

“Amazing!” She held onto his shoulders as she clambered off the bike and removed the helmet. “I might even have to trade in my baby for one!” Steve’s eyes widened at her remark, and she hastily shook her head. “No, no, that’s just my dumb nickname for my Volkswagen Bug! I don’t have an actual baby, of course, and if I did I certainly wouldn’t trade it…um, so yeah, no baby…and no guy, either, in case you were wondering. I’m single, single like a Pringle.” (Y/N) cringed at her own words and dropped her head in her hand to avoid eye-contact. “You can stop my dumb rambling anytime now, Steve…”

Steve’s grin widened. “Don’t worry, it’s not dumb. Entertaining, yeah, but definitely not dumb.”

The writer shot him a glare that would’ve intimidated him if it hadn’t looked so adorable on her. “You know, you’re a lot more of a pain in the ass than the history books make you out to be.”

Just as he was prepared to say something flirtatious, his cell phone chimed with a notification and when he looked to see what it was, his heart sank in his chest and reality came crashing back down on him.

Nurse Alia: Mrs. Carter’s been having a rough day. Might do her some good to see an old familiar face.

Steve tucked his cell phone back into his pocket and looked back up at a confused (Y/N) with an apologetic expression on his face. “I’m sorry but I’ve gotta go, something just came up. I’ll try and make it for the end of the meeting, though.”

“Okay, I’ll be sure to let Sam know!” Their fingers brushed as he took the helmet from her and stowed it away, and she gave him a half-hearted wave as he revved the engine and backed out of the parking spot. He returned her wave and sped off down the street, the image of (Y/N) standing by herself on the sidewalk with a befuddled expression on her face burned into his memory while he navigated the streets of D.C. to reach Peggy’s retirement home. But while he drove, he recalled the way his heart lurched when (Y/N) smiled at him, how lovely her laughter sounded as he gave her her first ride on a motorcycle and just how – for the briefest of moments – he hadn’t felt so alone and unseen. Like sunshine breaking through a cloudy sky, he thought to himself once again, resolving to see the writer who uncovered Steve Rogers from beneath the façade of Captain America again as soon as he could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: This was my first time writing from Steve’s POV, so let me know how you liked it so I can decide if I wanna write from his POV in a future one-shot! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and I hope that you enjoyed it!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part I)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Stumblin’ In Book I: “The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​ @lahoete​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​ @momc95​​​ @savedbystyle​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​ @brooke0297​​​ @hufflepeople​​​ @becausewelie​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​ @username23345 @crist1216​​​ @capswife​​​ @lilmschild​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​ @groovy-lady​​​ @ljej95​​​ @innersublimefury​​​ @prettysbliss​​​​  

[faulty-writes]

[ Hello my dear followers and or fans, I present to you a Katsuki Bakugou headcanon request. The lovely @ladycoleigh and I technically devised this plot together, but I hope you enjoy it. This is super long, I apologize. Don't say I don't feed you well. Happy Pride! ]

[ Headcanons Summary: Male!Reader is a Shiketsu High School intern at Best Jeanist's office and upon meeting Katsuki things don't go so well between the two of you. As time passes, Katsuki finds himself drawn to you and you to him which causes some internal questions to rise regarding sexuality. Happy Pride y'all! ]

It was easy to recognize him from the Provisional Licensing Exam and the Sports Festival. He was an angry but powerful hero student who focused on one thing. Victory. When he didn't get it, or something didn't work his way he got a little...explosive.

"Talk to him," Best Jeanist ordered, pushing you past his agency's doors, and ignoring your panicking. Katsuki was pissed about something, and it was your job to fix it. But how were you supposed to do that? "A-are you sure about this?" Best Jeanist nodded, believing that Katsuki would relate more to a male his own age.

The first thing he said to you when confronted was, "Get away from me or I'll blast your damn face off!" You trembled, trying to break the ice. "Um, your hair looks gorgeous! Uh, you look h-handsome! B-Best Jeanist does a great job," you murmured. "Eh?" Katsuki immediately stood up and towered over you. "What the hell do you mean handsome!?" he screamed before unleashing his quirk.

"I'm sorry!" you bowed in front of Best Jeanist's desk with smoke still seeping from your ripped and tattered clothes. Your skin and hair were also burned. "Maybe he doesn't like being complimented by another man?" you suggested, glancing away. "Hm...I see," Best Jeanist replied, standing up with his hands behind his back. "Keep trying," he ordered. It would take a lot of effort to break Katsuki's stubborn nature.

To help or make things more difficult, Best Jeanist assigned Katsuki and you to patrol together. During said patrol Katsuki didn't say a word to you and wandered off alone, leaving you to your own devices. You wanted to tell Best Jeanist you refused to work with him anymore, but a small part of you felt drawn to him. You didn't know what the reason was yet.

"You acted reckless!" you screamed after Katsuki apprehended a villain. "Yeah!? And who the hell do you think you are?!" he said with a snarl. You swallowed hard when he loomed over you and stared at him longer than you should have before answering. "I'm Y/n from Shiketsu High School, I s-saw you at the Provisional Licensing Exam but, uh, we didn't talk to each other," he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, there's a reason for that!" he snapped in reply.

"I just don't get it!" You groaned and leaned over the table with your hands tangled in your hair. "Like don't get what?" Camie replied. She was one of your closest friends. "He's such a jerk but I...I think I might be attracted to him?" Camie's eyes lit up. "O.M.G. You have the hots for a guy!? Who is he?" she asked, as open or absent-minded as usual. But you weren't ready to tell her more.

"Uh, K-Kacchan, are you okay? You seem distracted an-" Izuku stumbled back when Katsuki glared at him. "I'm fine, dumbass! Leave me the hell alone!" he screamed, before turning back to his desk and trying to concentrate, but damned thoughts of you kept invading his mind.

Was it strange to think another boy was handsome? Because Katsuki was! From his striking red eyes to that wild hair and those beautiful teeth that made you melt whenever he smirked. You groaned before slamming your head against the table. Best Jeanist was walking by and noticed your strange behavior. "Hm..." He had his suspicions but couldn't confirm anything now.

"I don't think I've ever had a crush before! But..." Camie shook her head and placed her hands on your shoulders. "Like that's why we're here at the mall! Just tell me who you think is hot and like who is not!" she explained, and while you were reluctant you followed through. "So that's another guy you find totes attractive and-" she paused when you sniffled. "Huh, what's wrong?" she asked, and you shook your head internally denying your homosexuality.

"I'd like to ask what is going on between you and Y/n," Katsuki stiffened his posture in response to the question, his jaw also clenched, and his hands curled into fists. "Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded. "Nothing is going on between us damn it!" Despite his words, Best Jeanist picked up on the slight flush across Katsuki's cheeks. "Hm, I understand. Carry on with your routine," he replied, shooing him away.

"What!?" Camie screamed, snatching your phone out of your hand to get a better look at the pictures of Katsuki you had taken, as creepy as that sounded. But you couldn't help but take pictures of him. There was something so...amazing about him. "That's the angry guy from the licensing exam! I mean he's totes hot if you like him!" she commented. "I..." you sighed. "I think I do like him...I still don't know what's wrong with me, but I don't think he likes me back and-" You paused when Camie laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"What the hell is your problem!?" Katsuki growled, pinning you against the wall with his hand around your throat. You had no idea what you did, but he was clearly angry about something and taking it out on you. Still, being this close to the one you liked made your heart race. "W-what are you talking about?" you replied with misty eyes, feeling his grip loosen and that look of anger fade momentarily.

After pulling Katsuki's hand from your throat and dragging him back to his office, Best Jeanist said, "I am trying to run a clean and proper organization, Bakugou. Whatever personal bias you have against Y/n won't be tolerated and-" Katsuki frowned, and Best Jeanist noticed an expression he had never seen before glistening in the boy's eye. "It's not biased I..." Katsuki growled. "Damn it, I don't know, I like them or something, okay!" Best Jeanist frowned. "And this is how you show you have feelings for another?" he questioned, angering Katsuki even more.

"You totally have to make a move!" she demanded, and your cheeks flushed. "W-what!? How am I supposed to do that? I can't do that at the agency. Best Jeanist would kill me and-"she waved her hands around. "Okay, okay," she said, tapping her chin. "Like maybe we can think of something else," she suggested.

[ Part II - Fireworks Festival ]

[siphersaysstuff]

ENERGON BUT NOT FORGOTTEN

February's Patreon @tfwiki pic update is on 2004's ENERGON, the awkward middle child of the Unicron Trilogy. Caught in the early stage of explosive franchise growth and pulled in too many directions. But there's good stuff in there. ROADBLOCK remains a solid, fun toy, turning from robot to crane-truck to heavily-armed half of a two-robot combiner.

The Autobots' two-bot-combiners gimmick was certainly an interesting attempt, but TOW-LINE really took the gimmick to more interesting places than most. He's his own combiner, with the lower half of his vehicle mode turning into a mobile battle-sled-thing separate from his robot mode.

Store exclusives were rare in Armada, but by Energon, Hasbro was ready to start pumping them out again, and boy did they. CHECKPOINT, a rededo of Rodimus, came in a Kmart "SWAT" 2-pack with a similarly deco'd Prowl. Back when Kmart was still a thing.

The Decepticons, rather than combining, got "hyper modes" and alternate vehicle modes that deployed more weapons. SIX SHOT, a redeco of Shockblast, is one of the better attempts, having a considerably-different "satellite" mode on top of his space-tank altmode.

Oh lawd he comin. OMEGA SENTINEL, a redeco of Omega Supreme, splits into a "construction vehicle" and "cruiser", each with a "platform" mode. The two can also join to for a "Cybertronian Armored Supertrain" but that wouldn't fit in the lightbox. Plus he can merge with Optimus Prime! Okay mainly he's a suit Prime wears, but there's attachment points for all of Prime's drone-vehicles as well.

With the franchise taking off, Hasbro looked to fill out Energon with more stuff. This Deluxe version of the Mini-Con HIGH WIRE came with a figure of human ally Kicker, rendered in the style of the then-current G.I.Joe toys. This set seemingly was not engineered by Takara, and it kinda shows.

Speaking of... oof. This set. Not to editorialize too much, but... the MEGA-DINOBOT set of GRIMLOCK and SWOOP is... well. Bad. Originally intended for the Universe line, it got shuffled into Energon, and similarly wasn't engineered by Takara. The result is a floppy, awkward mess. One of the very, very few Transformers toys in its 40-year run I'd call "bad".

(Also... yes, I re-did the Grimlock pic. Back in October, I used archive imagery for that update because, frankly, I'd forgotten I still owned this set. Upon discovery, I decided to redo the pic so it's crisper and better positioned. Still not a good toy though.)

Mind you... it's not like things were all roses on the other hemisphere. Takara made SL GRAND CONVOY, a smaller version of Optimus Prime without any of the good points of the larger figure. What IS that torso mode?! (This is the shinier "SL Grand Convoy & Kicker" 2-pack version. And it broke. Super-tight ankle joints made from clear-plastic? A recipe for disaster.)

Didn't mean to end on a down note. Here, have a pic of one of the line's absolute highlights, the Omnicons and Terrorcons, and their buildable energon weapons.

Energon was kind of all over the map, trying a lot and maybe lacking a strong cohesive theme because of it. Some damn good stuff, but also some genuine misses.

If you enjoy these runs through Transformers toy history, please consider tossing a coin into my Patreon ("gregstfwikipics" at patreon dot com). More support means I can devote more time to bigger updates with more images each month. There's still loads to do!

[theresattrpgforthat]

My absolute favorite D&D setting is Eberron. I love it to pieces, although I’ve never gotten the chance to play in it. My favorite things about the setting are 1) the potential for both pulpy adventure and juicy noirish intrigue and 2) the frequent moral ambiguity of characters and factions. The magitech is fun too, but that’s just a bonus. So I’ve been thinking: is there another game that can tide me over while I wait for the Sharn campaign of my dreams?

THEME: Pulp and Intrigue

There’s a lot of themes you’re trying to hit here all at once, so I’m going to do my best here. I’m breaking it down as follows:

1. I’m looking for games that can accommodate pulp adventure (dramatic, fast-paced, simple stories)

2. I’m looking for games that can also accommodate noir themes and intrigue.

3. I’m looking for games with morally ambiguous factions and people.

Atomic Robo RPG, by Evil Hat.

Action! Science! Robots! Punching! More Science!

Are you ready for some two-fisted science adventure? Then it's time for the Atomic Robo RPG! Have you ever wanted to face down global conspiracy as an immortal atomic robot or Carl Sagan? The Atomic Robo RPG makes it possible.

The Atomic Robo RPG brings you the most explosive Fate Core System experience yet. This is action science like you've never seen it before, coming straight at you from the pages of the popular Atomic Robo comics by Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegener. Play as an Action Scientist or immortal robot, super-spy or pulp adventurer—or something stranger still from the hidden corners of super-science!

This game combines wacky hiking with big conspiracies and various morally grey corporations and societies. Sure some of the folks you meet are probably pretty cartoonishly evil, but you work for Tesladyne - how morally good are you? Either way, get ready to shoot things with lasers, create impossible machines, and fight an undead Thomas Edison after he tries to get revenge on your boss.

Fae Noir, by Green Fairy Games.

The Great War is over, but its scars have yet to heal.

Will you play a pistol-packing elf or magic-slinging private eye? Fast-driving bootlegger or tango-dancing troll?

It is the Roaring 20's and everyone wants to forget the horrors of a war that spanned continents and dimensions. But the changes it wrought are not so easily dismissed. Humanity struggles to understand a world of re-awakened magic and folklore come to life. The fae, failed invaders from the lands of faery, find themselves adrift in the unfamiliar modern world, living relics of the past. It is an era of jazz and exploration, of art deco and danger; a time when the fists and courage of individuals can determine the course of history.

Fae Noir is a role-playing game set in the chaotic, pivotal decade of an alternate world where creatures of mythology returned from self-imposed exile at the height of World War I.

This is an intriguing mix of magic and noir set in a time period full of tension and high stakes. You can play as a human or one of ten different Fae races. Characters use a point-build system, and the game is run primarily off d8s. The stats given to characters are more focused on adventure than on social situations, so if you’re more into kicking down the front door of a local gangster or holding your breath in the canal so that you can sneak into the local prison rather than sweet-talking the mayor at the next soiree.

Escape from Dino Island, by Sam Tung & Sam Roberts.

Escape from Dino Island is a thrilling adventure game about intrepid heroes trapped on an island overrun with creatures from a lost age—dinosaurs!

Players take on the role of everyday people who are brave and competent, but also in over their head. The game is designed to help you create the kind of stories that are full of action and suspense, but in which fighting is rarely a good option.

Will you escape with your life? And what kind of person will you become in your quest to survive? There’s only one way to find out…

If you want pulp adventure this is a great little game to get you there. Escape from Dino Island doesn’t have much in noir themes on the tin but if you want to ask questions about how the dinosaurs got there, how your characters got there, and who might be trying to profit from this while situation, you might have the makings of a bigger mystery. (Plus there’s dinosaurs, and if there’s one thing I know about Eberron, is that it’s got dinosaurs.) 

Urban Jungle, by Sanguine Productions.

The early 20th century of the United States was rife with fantastic change: from the rise of industry giants, to the great experiment of Prohibition, to the tragedy of the Great Depression, onto the dawn of the Atomic Age. The sky was tamed, the world was mapped, and the possibilities of science seemed limitless, all blue skies and buttered toast…

… for some folks, anyway.

A complete game in one volume, URBAN JUNGLE makes you a player in an anthropomorphic world of pulp-adventure, hard-boiled crime, and film noir. You’ll tangle with hardened gangsters, with jaded debutantes, with world-wear wary veterans, and with all kinds of shady characters.

Urban Jungle has a number of different cities to base your stories in, from the New-Orleans-style Bellegarde, to the Californian-inspired San Dorado, to the tribute to Miami that is Sunshine City. The GM section has some solid advice, such as the kinds of threats you can send against players, and how to use NPC death. The idea is that Urban Jungle will eat you alive (metaphorically) if your characters aren’t careful - there’s money to be made and schmucks to swindle, so you’ll have to be smart, savvy, and suave to get what you’re looking for, whether that be answers, safety, or your next meal. 

Swords of the Serpentine, by Pelgrane Press.

You round the bend past the lower fort and there she is: the great city of Eversink, sprawled out on scores of islands across the sheltered water. She may be ancient and corrupt, slowly and inexorably swallowed by an endless bog; but she’s alive in a way most cities aren’t. She’s a melding of faith and stone and wood and water – and mud – that’s unique in all the world. 

It doesn’t matter whether you’ve come to kill a rival, earn a fortune, learn a secret, or hire an army. You’re home now, and the Sinking City will embrace you. All you need to do is survive.

Swords of the Serpentine is a sword & sorcery game of daring heroism, sly politics, and bloody savagery, set in a fantasy city rife with skullduggery and death. The rules adapt the GUMSHOE investigative roleplaying system to create a fantasy RPG with a focus on high-action roleplaying and investigation inspired by the stories of Fritz Leiber, Terry Pratchett, Robert E. Howard, and others.

Your characters will discover leads that, if followed, propel them headlong into danger and forbidden knowledge. A lead might point the way to sunken treasure, jungle ruins, the missing key to a sorcerous trap, or the true identity of a notorious murderer. The GUMSHOE game mechanics ensure that you’ll always notice leads if you look for them. It’s up to you to choose which one you'll follow into whatever perils lie ahead, in hopes of fortune, glory, justice, or just staying alive another day.

If you want magic and mystery, Swords and Serpentine has it. If you want alliances and intrigue, this game also has it. Eversink is a city with many different organizations fighting for a piece of the cake that your characters can get involved in, make deals with, and try not to get stabbed in the process. There’s also a robust social system to help your characters navigate political situations where their opponents might have sorcery, curses, alchemy and more up their sleeve - and all the corruption that comes with it. 

If you want to track down foul sorcerers in a corrupt and decadent city, clamber through underground ruins to sneak into an enemy’s home and rob them, or wage a secret war against a rival political faction, you’re in the right place.

[usafphantom2]

F-100 Thunderbird pilot tells the story of when his Super Sabre exploded during the Bomb Burst after the wings came off due to fatigue damage in the wing center box

Developed as a follow-on to the F-86 Sabre used in the Korean War, the F-100 was the world’s first production airplane capable of flying faster than the speed of sound in level flight (760 mph). The prototype — the YF-100A — made its first flight on May 25, 1953, at Edwards Air Force Base, Calif. Of the 2,294 F-100s built before production ended in 1959, 1,274 were Ds, more than all the other series combined. The Super Sabre had its combat debut in Vietnam where it was used extensively as a fighter-bomber in ground-support missions such as attacking bridges, road junctions and troop concentrations.

The US Air Force “Thunderbird Flight Demonstration Team” operated the F-100C from 1956 until 1964, when they made the transition to the F-105. However, problems with the F-105 caused them to change back to the F-100 (D variant) before they completed the 1964 demonstration season.

As told by Ted Spitzmiller in his book Century Series The USAF Quest for air supremacy 1950-1960, one in-flight airframe failure of a Thunderbird F-100D occurred during a performance over Laughlin Air Force Base near Del Rio, Texas, on Oct. 20, 1967. The pilot was future Air Force Chief of Staff Merrill A. “Tony” McPeak, flying #6, a solo position. In his own words (from “Tony McPeak Story”):

“…We approach the climax, the signature Bomb Burst. My job is to put ‘pigtails’ through the separating formation, doing unloaded, Max-rate vertical rolls…. I start the aggressive [6.5-G] pull into the vertical—and the aircraft explodes…. Any F-100 pilot who hears a loud ‘BANG!’ automatically thinks, ‘compressor stall,’ and unloads the jet to get air traveling down the intake in the right direction. … SO INSTINCTIVELY, the explosion causes me to relax stick pressure to unload the airplane… [but—] That’s no compressor stall!!…

F-100 Thunderbird pilot tells the story of when his Super Sabre exploded during the Bomb Burst after the wings came off due to fatigue damage in the wing center box

“In retrospect, the airplane had already unloaded itself, making my remedy superfluous, but there was some pilot lore at work here. No matter what else happens … fly the airplane. Forget all that stuff about lift and drag and thrust and gravity, just fly the damn airplane until the last piece stops moving. Good old 55-3520 has quit flying. But I have not.

“Now there’s fire, and I don’t mean just a little smoke. Flames fill the cockpit. I have to eject. I grab the seat handles and tug them up, firing the canopy and exposing ejection triggers on each side of the handles. I yank the triggers and immediately feel the seat catapult into the slipstream. …”

He lost his helmet in the high-speed bailout, but landed safely – despite a damaged parachute. He talked to Mike Miller, Thunderbirds narrator, who said “maybe we should leave ‘that thing, whatever it is,’ out of the show sequence.”

McPeak: “That’s when I learn I’d pulled the wings off the airplane.

“After I jumped out, my aircraft continued on a ballistic trajectory, scattering parts and equipment along the extended flight path. Most of the engine and the main fuselage section impacted about 2 miles downrange from my initial pull-up spot. All the bits and pieces landed on government soil, and there was no injury or property damage. My aircraft was destroyed—I signed a to hand-receipt for $696,989—but if there is a good kind of accident, this was it. Nobody was hurt, and all the scrap metal was collected for post-game analysis.

F-100 Thunderbird pilot tells the story of when his Super Sabre exploded during the Bomb Burst after the wings came off due to fatigue damage in the wing center box

“The F-100’s wings mate into a box at the center of the fuselage, the strongest part of the airplane. When my aircraft’s wing center box was inspected, it was found to and have failed. North American Rockwell, the manufacturer, tested the box on a bend-and-stretch machine, and it broke again at an equivalent load of 6.5 G for the flight condition I was at when the wings departed.

“Later, specialists discovered considerable fatigue damage in the wing center boxes of other Thunderbird aircraft. USAF immediately put a 4 G limit on the F-100 and initiated a program to run all the aircraft through depot modification to beef up the wing center box. My accident almost certainly saved lives by revealing a serious problem in the F-100 fleet.”

The Thunderbirds performed with the D series from July 1964 until November 1968, when they upgraded to the F-4E Phantom II.

Century Series The USAF Quest for air supremacy 1950-1960 is published by Schiffer Publishing and is available to order here.

F-100F print

This print is available in multiple sizes from AircraftProfilePrints.com – CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS. F-100F Super Sabre – Wild Weasel 50th Anniversary, 2015 – 50 Years of YGBSM! 58-1226, 35th TFW, 614th TFS

Photo credit: U.S. Air Force

Dario Leone

Dario Leone is an aviation, defense and military writer. He is the Founder and Editor of “The Aviation Geek Club” one of the world’s most read military aviation blogs. His writing has appeared in The National Interest and other news media. He has reported from Europe and flown Super Puma and Cougar helicopters with the Swiss Air Force.

[n1ko-whoisdefinatelynotacat]

Out of canon

So literally just yesterday I was sitting there and all of the sudden I got this idea about [Redacted]. It's not very put together yet and I only have like a super vague idea of how I want this to progress. I'm basically about to info-dump.

I mentioned in a post just a little while ago but [Redacted], while having a nightmare, starts muttering about a prophecy.

I was listening to a song, and got an idea that at some point, the world [Redacted] is from had some form of a cataclysm, but unlike the author's world, [Redacted]'s world luckily did have saviors. Five to be exact. I'm not exactly sure what the prophecy said yet, or what exactly was going down, but I have some rough ideas.

Each savior represented an element or something like that. The ones I'm tentatively using as placeholders are Water, Fire (maybe changing that one to something involving volcanos), Energy, Stars, and Light.

[Redacted] is the one representing Light, which is 100% because I thought it would be ironic. I also have this very specific moment in mind where [Redacted] is like, holding this massive ball of light, which almost looks like a certain lightbulb, straight up above them, while in flight, and that's how the cataclysm ends. Honestly the only other things I have are that it's said only one savior can survive, and [Redacted] is that one survivor.

Okay I am now coming back to this like an hour later, and I've worked out slightly more. Drawing out symbols for each savior has helped me out.

The savior associated with water will somehow either drown (on purpose which is dark) or they chose to tip backwards into the ocean. This would be the first of the four to go, and would unlock one piece of the puzzle to the weird lightbulb lookin thing.

The savior associated with fire and/or volcanos will either cause some sort of massive explosion or like, dive into a volcano (don't do that it's a bad idea), which would unlock another piece to the puzzle.

The savior associated with energy will probably channel lightning to save the remaining two saviors from some sort of incident, basically using their body as a lightning rod. You can probably guess how that ends.

And the savior associated with stars basically just gives up their physical form, becoming a star themself and unlocking the puzzle.

Then [Redacted] finds that light thingy, gets as far up into the sky as he can, and basically just holds it up really high, effectively either destroying the group that causes the cataclysm, or stopping whatever event happens planet wide.

It's not perfect, I still have to figure out what the cataclysm was and other things, but I've been thinking about this for a while and wanted to share.

[noisester]

𝟑-𝟓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘.

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒:

Sweet corn yellow

Geebung/Mustard yellow

Scarlet (mainly for the enraged eyes)

Black liquorice

White

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒:

THE ODOR. STINKY

Candy corn, confectioneries, and all that sweet stuff

Bomb powder and soot

Engine oil

The aftermath of his very intense and high quality skincare routine (I'll let you use your imagination)

𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍:

Yellow onesie + cape (can't beat the OG™)

Business suit

Top hat and monocle combo

Anything stupid or funny idk. He's super unpredictable lol

𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒:

The Noise Crusher™, a jetpack, and a reliable skateboard that seemingly defies physics. All bearing the same colour!

A red pogo stick and a baseball bat (Wow!!! Something that ISN'T yellow!!!!!!)

His signature hot air balloon. Noise-themed, as usual

Explosives. A stupid amount of them

The infinite supply of random objects at his disposal somehow

𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄:

Wide smiles, toothy grins, smacking his lips-- are you seeing a pattern here

Hands on hips

Clasping and tugging his whiskers

Stomping his feet when frustrated

Shriveling up like he's dehydrated or ate a lemon

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒:

Classic cartoons from the 90's and 2000's era (violence included)

Jesters, balloons, airhorns, silly string sprays, toys and zany gadgets in general!

Stage lights, cameras, tools, technology

This video, amongst the many thousands living rent free in my head

GGRRRR GRRRRRRGR RAAAHHH!!!! GRRRAEEEUEUUUUGHHHAIIEEAA (metal pipe falling)

Tagged by: @crvptd! Thank you!! Tagging: uhhhh

[glitched-nomz]

Leo's having trouble sleeping, so he sneaks into Donna's room to find some science thing to help.

Cw: sfw platonic vore, g/t

Leo poked his head into Donna's room. His eyes felt heavy, but no matter what he tried, he just couldn't get himself to go to sleep. Fae was already asleep, and she was really grouchy if you woke her up early, and he didn't want to deal with a grumpy, spiky turtle who was also way bigger and stronger than him. He knew she'd never hurt him but also annoying his dearest twinnie was super fun.

Donna probably had something in here to help him sleep. Hopefully it was labeled and came with an instruction manual, and wasn't right next to some kind of violent explosion death ray or whatever.

Ooo, that looked useful! He picked up a ray-looking thing, labelled with a big 'S' on the side.

Perfect! It was probably a sleep ray!! It didn't have an instruction manual, but it also didn't have any big red warnings on it, so it probably wouldn't kill him.

Leo moved to a clearer area, one with less clutter everywhere that would be less dangerous for him to fall in. He pointed the ray at himself, closing his eyes in preparation for sleep.

The ray fired, hitting him square in the plastron, but he was still awake.

He felt really weird.

Leo looked up. He wasn't even a third of the table leg height. He stared at his hands. Given how big everything else seemed to be around him, he'd guess he was around maybe 6 inches tall, if he was being nice to himself. He was probably closer to four or five, he couldn't really tell, honestly.

Gueeeygh… He'd have to go to Donna to see if this was fixable or if he was stuck being tiny forever. After touching- nay, using her tech without permission, and being wrong about what something did.

He'd be lucky to make it out alive.

-*~-*~-

She felt a tiny hand poking at her face.

"-onna, Donna! Wake up! I need help!" An obnoxious, familiar, weirdly high pitched voice hissed.

"Eugh. Leo, why are you so small?" Donna grumbled, rubbing her eyes. "I swear, if this was Draxum's doing-"

The tiny slider laughed nervously. "Eheuh, no, not… no. See, I was just coming in here to say hi, y'know? Cuz insomnia twins and I didn't wanna wake Fae up. And I saw this cool looking laser thing, so I poked at it a bit, and… now I'm this size."

Donna narrowed its eyes. "You touched my tech. You little shit!" She snatched her tiny twin up, glaring directly into his eyes. "You know what, I'm not gonna change you back until morning, because I'm just that fucking pissed and tired right now, it said in annoyance at her obnoxious younger sibling." It really didn't want Leo to get himself hurt messing with her stuff- that was basically the same thing as hurting him herself!

Leo gave an affronted gasp. "I'm not younger than you! We're the same age!!"

"Scoff! You're literally my younger twin. Trust me, it's science."

"No it's not! Now put me down, I wanna make myself normal sized again, since you won't!"

A grin started creeping its way up Donna's face. "Oh, I don't think I will." It licked her beak. She had noticed she was a little hungry, and Leo was the perfect size for a midnight snack…

Leo's eyes widened. "Wh- hey, no, Donna! That's- you're totally overreacting here!! I won't touch your shit till you're awake, I promise!"

Donna rolled her eyes affectionately, tilting her head back and dangling Leo over its open mouth.

Leo kicked his feet, writhing in protest. "Oh, c'mon, I wouldn't do this to you if you accidentally shrank yourself with my stuff!"

Sticking her tongue out at him, Donna widened her jaws, and dropped Leo in. Swallowing hard, it felt Leo slip down her esophagus and land in her stomach. The little twin inside squirmed angrily, writhing against the walls of her stomach.

It purred, putting a hand on her now semi-rounded plastron. "See, Leo? This is what you get for messing with my beautiful, fragile, state of the art tech without first consulting me. Don't do it again." It flicked her belly.

"Ugh, fine!" A tiny, muffled voice called. "I guess I'll just wake you up instead next time!"

"Which would be preferable, because then I could use my tech (or my fists) to knock you unconscious and/or drag you to sleep! You know we sleep better when we're near each other, 'Nardo! You idiot!" She yawned, the warm, full feeling in her belly making her tired. "Now, if you please, shut your fuck and go to sleep so I can prove my point."

Laying down, it felt Leo shifting inside her. She churred, rubbing her belly gently. The small, wriggly form in her stomach gave her a pleasant sensation, making her purr softly. Feeling her brother squirming inside her, feeling him moving and safe and alive- She understood why their eldest sibling liked doing this so much.

It was so comforting.

Donna knew where Leo was. She knew he was safe. He was probably asleep, or at least about to pass out, too! She knew she was hella tired. She gave her belly one last rub before closing her eyes.

She knew Leo wasn't lying about having trouble sleeping, and rocking motions helped him rest. Apparently, having someone else asleep inside her helped it sleep, because after only a few minutes she was snoring away.

-*~-*~-

Leo, despite his theatrics, actually didn't mind when his twin dropped him down her throat. Sure, it was wet, but it was warm and soft and an excellent pressure stim. Maybe Donna had been rude about it, but he had fucked with her shit… Honestly, knowing her, he was getting off easy.

They bantered for a bit, Leo trying to ignore his growing sleepiness. He was relieved when Donna said she was going to sleep, relaxing into the warmth surrounding him.

It was easy to get nestled into Donna's belly, feeling her soft breaths as she slipped into sleep. He could still feel her hand on her plastron, pressing softly against him. If literally being inside her wasn't comforting enough, knowing that she was holding him, in a sense, certainly was.

Yawning, he rolled over, and slid his eyes shut. It took a few minutes, but his sister's slow, even breathing and rhythmic heartbeat rocking him and squeezing him quickly put him to sleep.

[wanderingwolpertinger]

finished Six of Crows yesterday (yes I skipped shadow and bone entirely the opening exposition was annoying me buuuut I'll go back later. Blame my friend she said I should start with SoC) and I haven't started Crooked Kingdom (no spoilers please!) however I wanted to dump my thoughts for a bit (I probably ended up being overly critical so if this is your fav series maybe scroll by lol)

-the characters were the highlight of the story for me, super well executed banter. Tie between Kaz and Matthias for fav POV. (Kaz's backstory was especially well done, the way it influenced his actions throughout SoC was very natural)

-worldbuilding/lore was pretty easy to follow even though I did not read S&B or watch the show. magic system is pretty cool, excited to see it fleshed out in S&B

-not sure how I feel about how ship-happy this series is (maybe the author was trying to outrun ship war potential idk). possibly makes more sense when viewed as a series? (will have to update my opinion later) but overall having every main pov character paired off somewhat sappily by the end of book one was ehhh? I'm not opposed to romantic subplots but I felt they may have held too much influence in the main plot here.

-hrrmmm love me some GrimDark (not) (ok not when it's not done very impactfully imo) (mmmm let's not explore the ethics of casually taking lives for more than 0.5 seconds) (yes it's a fantasy book but still) (particularly Jesper's pov was ... odd) (he seemed to have issues with his actions but also didn't?) (maybe it will make more sense upon reread)

-Standard Heist Plot (no notes) (yes to explosives)

-ok back to the crit. one of the reviews in the front of my copy compared SoC to ASOIAF (haven't read it but I know enough to verify) and like yes actually it really did feel somewhat like aggressively PG-13 Game of Thrones. (I dunno this is more of a personal gripe with authors feeling the need to inject the sexual exploitation of women into their fantasy novels in order to be more Realistic) (especially when it's minors) (bleh)

-idk a lot of the side worldbuilding choices felt like something an edgy 14 year old would choose because they were Dark ™️

-however props for character design, the appearance/physicality of each of the Crows was wonderfully distinct

-not in loooove with the ending. It sets up book two nicely yes but kinda gave me KOTLC cliffhanger flashbacks

-sort of feels like this book is a sanitized adult fantasy novel with de-aged protagonists (could be being unfair here) and a YA plot

-no actually the number of times Nina's breasts are mentioned is absurdly high, the heck was up with that

-so Matthias being a ex-witch hunter = bad (duh) cause he was going to send Grisha to their deaths. Ok makes sense. Now tell me why Kaz/Inej/Jesper killing somewhat indiscriminately is not really addressed in moral terms beyond "necessary"? (Actually ignore this one for now I would need to do a reread before I have full thoughts on this) (But there will be thoughts)

-overall, I had a good time reading this book. Yeah I had problems with it but some of that could honestly stem from the fact that I am not 15 anymore and have different taste in books. (ok ok also I am actively comparing this with Lockwood and Co and I feel that series took equally dark topics but explored them much more maturely) (and honestly also Mistborn. That series also had dark worldbuilding but didn't linger on what it didn't have to?)

[swan-of-sunrise]

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part V)

Summary: Bucky, (Y/N) and the entire Rogers-(Y/L/N) family meets Isaiah and Elijah Bradley when Sam brings them to visit the exhibit that they personally arranged to finally tell Isaiah's story.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: This was an emotional chapter to write, but it’s one that I’m also very proud of! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part V) June 2024 Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, Washington D.C. (Previous Chapter)

The month after they successfully thwarted the Flag Smasher’s plans and Sam publicly took up the mantle of Captain America had been filled with several highs and lows. The Global Repatriation Council unanimously decided not to vote on the controversial Patch Act and began working on getting humanitarian aid to the refugees residing in resettlement camps, and they had already voted on providing financial support for those displaced after the events of the Snap; Karli Morgenthau died before she could see her aspirations finally realized, but Sam’s historic speech criticizing the members of the GRC ensured that her sacrifice wouldn’t be forgotten. The four Flag Smashers that had been arrested and taken into custody died in a mysterious car explosion and while both Sam and Bucky suspected Zemo of having a hand in their deaths, he was locked away in the Raft and their deaths were officially ruled an accident by the authorities.

Two days after the incident at the GRC’s New York Headquarters, Bucky came to stay with the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family at their home in Rockport, Maine. The super-soldier had apparently taken Sam’s advice on how to move on from his time as the Winter Soldier to heart, visiting his friend Yori and telling him that he was responsible for his son’s mysterious death; he gave the old man closure and as challenging as it was, he admitted through his tears that he knew he’d done the right thing. In Rockport, Bucky was as relaxed as he’d been in Delacroix and much to (Y/N)’s delight, he and Steve were able to reconnect and take the time to finally re-built their decades-long friendship away from any wars or conflicts. Bucky was beginning to heal and now that he was allowing himself to lean on others for support, he wouldn’t be alone on his journey to self-forgiveness.

While she recuperated from the handful of minor injuries she’d sustained in the fight against the Flag Smashers, (Y/N) worked tirelessly with her connections at the Smithsonian’s Air and Space Museum, the editors at the New York Times and Colonel Rhodes to create an exhibit chronicling the lives and sacrifices of Isaiah Bradley and the hundreds of Black soldiers who were illegally experimented on by the U.S. Army. It took several lengthy Zoom meetings, heated conference calls and a handful of visits to the Smithsonian to oversee the construction progress, but the exhibit was completed almost exactly one month after Sam Wilson made history by becoming the first Black Captain America. It was decided by (Y/N) and Sam that although the exhibit was finished, it wouldn’t open to the public until Isaiah himself had an opportunity to see what they’d built in his and his fellow servicemen’s honor.

“You’re gonna wear a hole straight through the floor if you keep pacin’ like that, doll. Just relax, maybe take a deep breath or two.”

(Y/N) shot an easy-going Bucky a withering look and continued pacing the new exhibit’s floor, the clicking of her high heels echoing through the near-empty space as she anxiously smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles of her pencil skirt. “I’m currently filled with enough nervous energy to power an entire arc reactor, and I’m supposed to just relax and take a deep breath?”

The super-soldier let out a dramatic sigh and hitched Carina higher up on his hip. “Your ma gets a little crabby when she’s stressed out, doesn’t she, sugar?” The infant giggled when his vibranium fingers tickled the skin beneath her chin and he chuckled. From the moment he arrived at their home in Maine, Bucky and Carina had become nearly inseparable; he was good with children, having helped his parents care for each of his three younger siblings, and Carina absolutely adored having her Uncle Bucky around more.

“You should see her the night before a book release.” Steve adjusted the bill of his beaten-up Brooklyn Dodgers baseball cap, flashing her a mischievous smile while continuing. “Last time, she tossed and turned so much that she ended up accidentally rolling out of bed.” (Y/N) spared both men a displeased glare but allowed Steve to cross the small room and gently cup her cheek as his other hand rested on the curve of her waist; the reassuring gleam in her husband’s azure eyes helped to begin settling her frayed nerves and she felt her shoulders relax as he softly spoke to her. “I don’t know how Isaiah’s gonna react to all of this, but I promise that everything’s gonna be okay, sunshine.”

(Y/N) released a shaky breath and nodded, taking a moment to glance around the exhibit that so many people had tirelessly worked on so that Isaiah and his fellow servicemen’s history would never be forgotten. Projectors flashed black-and-white photographs of Isaiah’s platoon during their training and years of service during the Korean War and situated before a wall-sized image of America’s first Black super-soldiers standing at attention were two distinct items: a bronze statue of Isaiah Bradley, and a plaque dedicated to telling the truth of his life and what the Army had tried to keep buried for seventy years.

Isaiah Bradley

Isaiah Bradley is an American Hero whose name went unknown for too long.

Isaiah was one of a dozen African-American soldiers who were recruited against their will and without their consent for participation in human testing in pursuit of the super-soldier serum. Most did not survive. The few who lived through testing were sent on secret missions during the Korean War. During the conflict, against all odds, Isaiah Bradley rescued his fellow soldiers and 28 other POWS from behind enemy lines.

However, fearful of the ramifications of a Black super-soldier, some individuals within the government tried to erase Isaiah’s story from history. His family was issued a falsified death certificate and for decades, the truth of his unflinching bravery was buried.

The third and final paragraph etched onto the plaque detailed the thirty years of false imprisonment, experiments and downright torture Isaiah was subjected to by the Army and Hydra, and (Y/N) found herself looking away before the words she’d helped to pen could make her tear up; while dozens of people had been involved in the creation of the exhibit, only she and Sam knew that Isaiah was still alive and living in Baltimore. They wanted to protect his desire to live out the rest of his life in anonymity, which was why they arranged for Isaiah and his grandson Elijah to visit the exhibit before its scheduled unveiling. But for the past several weeks, (Y/N) was weighed down by fears that the elderly man wouldn’t approve of the exhibit or would be offended by its very existence, so she spent many sleepless nights ensuring that the story of Isaiah Bradley and his fellow servicemen would be told with all the respect and gravitas that it deserved.

“Guys, Sam just texted that they’re about to walk in.”

Bucky’s heads-up brought (Y/N) back to reality and caused a fresh spike of anxiety within her, but she masked her nervousness with a smile as Steve led her over to where Bucky stood off to the side. Seeing that Carina was beginning to fall asleep in the super-soldier’s arms, (Y/N) leaned down and pressed a soft kiss onto her daughter’s forehead and when she straightened up, she and Bucky shared an understanding look while Steve’s hand gave hers a brief but reassuring squeeze. All three of them stood at the back of the new exhibit and watched as Sam led the Bradley’s inside, and (Y/N) got her first look at the reclusive super-soldier.

Isaiah Bradley was the epitome of a super-soldier, with a muscular build carefully disguised by a windbreaker and jeans and the striking looks of a man decades younger; there was grief etched into every line and wrinkle and a fiery bitterness in his dark brown eyes, but the hardened emotions seemingly faded away the moment he got his first look at the exhibit. Isaiah’s jaw slackened and his gaze was transfixed on the statue bearing his likeness as he rested a shaking hand on his grandson’s shoulder; he spared Sam a brief look as Eli led him towards the plaque and when Sam gave him a nod, his hand slipped down to briefly grip Eli’s as he struggled to remain composed. The Bradley’s studied the statue in awe and when Eli moved to read the plaque chronicling his grandfather’s life, Isaiah stood behind him and held onto his shoulders, and (Y/N) bit her lip as they read the words she’d helped to pen.

Isaiah soon turned and slowly walked over to where Sam stood, his eyes beginning to water as his lower lip trembled. “Now, they’ll never forget what you did for this country.” Sam shook Isaiah’s outstretched hand and gave him another firm nod. “Never.” The older man finally gave in to the overwhelming onslaught of emotions, pulling Sam into a tight hug and shaking with barely-suppressed emotion. (Y/N) accepted the tissue that Bucky offered her and dabbed at her tear-filled eyes as Steve wrapped a comforting arm around her waist and pressed a chaste kiss onto her cheek, both men sniffling and covertly blinking away their own tears. After a long moment, both men separated and Sam waved (Y/N) over. “Isaiah, I’d like you to meet (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I know my best friend like the back of my hand and since she’s gonna start gettin’ all modest in a sec, I’ll tell you now that she’s the one who made this possible.”

“It was very much a group effort, and one that couldn’t have happened without Sam,” (Y/N) countered, playfully bumping her best friend’s arm with her shoulder and extended her hand out towards Isaiah. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Bradley.”

Isaiah shook her hand and gave her an appraising look. “I saw you on the television tryin’ to save those GRC members. You’re an Avenger, aren’t you?”

“Part-time; I’m a historical-fiction novelist whenever I’m not helping save the world or keeping Sam here out of trouble.” The older man huffed out an amused chuckle and (Y/N) took it as a sign to continue. “Mr. Bradley, Sam and I worked with the Smithsonian to create this exhibit in order to educate the world about a part of history that our government’s tried to hide for decades, and I collaborated with the editors of the New York Times to write an article about you and your fellow servicemen that will hold the government accountable for their actions. However, we’ve made it so that the exhibit and the article will not go ahead without your say-so.”

Isaiah seemed a little taken aback by her words and possibly even touched, but he was quick to mask the sentiment behind an indifferent shrug. “Seems like they’re copin’ with a Black Captain America who’s quick to call ‘em out on national television, so why avoid a little more overdue accountability? But it’s like I already told Sam, Ms. (Y/L/N), Isaiah Bradley is dead and I’d prefer him to be left dead. After those thirty years locked away, I’m not willin’ to put a target on mine or my grandson’s back just ‘cause a Black man’s carryin’ that shield now.”

“I understand. According to the government – and in a week’s time, the rest of the world – Isaiah Bradley died in the 1980’s after thirty years of false imprisonment; Sam and I made it so that no one will ever find out that that nurse falsified your records and helped you escape.” The uncertain frown on Isaiah’s face slowly but surely vanished and (Y/N) felt her own smile return as she continued. “The only people who know that you’re still alive are all in this room: Sam, Bucky, myself and my husband.”

The older man followed (Y/N)’s gaze to where Bucky and Steve quietly stood, arching a brow at the sight of the infamous Winter Soldier rocking an infant to sleep in his arms but returning the super-soldier’s nod with one of his own. His eyes flicked over to the shorter of the two men and after a moment, both brows rose in surprise as a look of recognition crossed his weathered features. “Is that…?”

Sam tucked his hands into his pockets and answered Isaiah’s unspoken question with a nod as Steve slowly approached them. “You see, you’re not the first super-soldier we’ve worked to keep out of the public eye.”

Both (Y/N) and Sam stepped back to give Steve and Isaiah some privacy and as she wrapped an arm around her best friend’s elbow, (Y/N) watched their interaction with a soft smile on her face; there was a certain hesitancy about the way the two men walked up to each other, with deliberately slow steps and a studied gleam in their eyes, and despite the obvious differences in their appearances, it was clear that both men were kindred spirits. When Sam told her about his and Bucky’s mission to track down the Flag Smashers in Latvia, he mentioned how Zemo admitted that Steve was an exception to his personal beliefs about the corruptibility of super-soldiers because ‘there has never been another Steve Rogers’; but looking on as Isaiah shook Steve’s hand and listened to everything he had to say, (Y/N) couldn’t disagree with the Sokovian terrorist more. Isaiah is just as good a man as Steve, she thought as she and Sam exchanged a knowing look, only he was never given the same opportunity to show the world who he was.

“That’s one skinny guy.”

Sam shot Eli a reprimanding glare. “Yeah, you really need to learn some manners.”

“Hey, man, I’m just makin’ an observation,” Eli chuckled as he raised his hands in defense. “All those crazy theories online, and not one of ‘em even comes close to the truth. He really gave up bein’ Cap and went back to who he used to be, huh?”

(Y/N) smiled at the teenager’s curiosity peeking out from beneath the adolescent air of nonchalance. “That’s not exactly how he sees it. To him, he just decided to be Steve Rogers on a full-time basis and pass the shield onto the best person for the job.”

“The best and most annoying person,” Bucky added, joining their trio with a teasing grin on his face and carefully passing a fast-asleep Carina over to (Y/N) before lightly bumping Sam’s arm with his elbow. “But hey, I can personally attest that that’s practically a requirement for bein’ the Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan.”

The four of them stood and quietly watched Steve and Isaiah talk to one another, and while (Y/N) rocked her sleeping daughter in her arms, she indulged in her inner amateur historian and took a moment to appreciate the history that only a small handful of people would ever have the opportunity to know of. The thought of that history being passed down through Eli, Aj, Cass and Carina put a smile on (Y/N)’s face, and she rested her head against her best friend’s shoulder as the lyrics of a familiar uplifting song came to mind:

I’m gonna keep rolling on, no matter what the world may do, ‘cause with a love like this, there’s nothing left to do. So, let me tell ya…Doesn’t matter what you say, I’m still, I’m still gonna float away for real. In a minute, ya’ll, I’ll be gone, right or wrong, I’ma just keep rolling on and on and on and on…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: And there we have it! I had an absolute blast getting into this series and in the future, I’ll definitely continue my re-tellings of various Phase 4/5 projects but for the next one-shot, I’ll be focusing on Steve and (Y/N)’s first date after the Battle of Sokovia! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and I hope that you enjoyed it!

If you haven’t checked it out already, I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series and it’s linked below. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Stumblin’ In Book I: “The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345 @crist1216​​​​​ @capswife​​​​​ @lilmschild​​​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​​​ @groovy-lady​​​​​ @ljej95​​​​​ @innersublimefury​​​ @prettysbliss​​​​​​