#the last week has been so nice and i feel so incredibly hopeful for 2025

[tetzoro]

hiyaaa friendz ! it’s the last day of the year o: which feels ! wild !! but i am here to say that i’m very proud of all of us for making it through ଘ(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و !! 🤍

gentle reminder that while the new year is always good for new beginnings, remember to be kind with yourself as you go after your goals. some things won’t happen overnight but little by little, you’ll succeed. i know it !! i believe in you and i will be rooting for you always !! 🫂

may 2025 bring you inner peace + luck + happiness + so much love that it fills your heart to the very top ^_^ !!

[amadeusgame]

December Devlog: A Year of Progress

After launching the updated, feature-complete demo last month, I promised that by the end of 2024 I would have an updated timeline of expectations for the full release of Amadeus: A Riddle for Thee ~ Episode 1 ~ Waltz. I feel this is especially important given how many times I pushed back the launch date this year.

I think I now understand why that happened.

TL;DR:

Part 1 - On Episode 1's Timeline

Episode 1's timeline was repeatedly pushed back because I realized making the game good mattered more to me than meeting an arbitrary deadline.

The full episode will release in 2025.

A date will not be announced until the game is nearly finished.

Part 2 - Looking Back at 2024

A list of milestones between the original February demo release and the recent feature-complete update.

Read on if you'd like a lot more words on what this year has been like, and where things are at right now.

Steam | itch.io | More Links

On Episode 1's Timeline

Amadeus began development when I was in grad school studying music composition. I was in an environment where deadlines were external and they were tight, and I learned the incredibly difficult skill of "how to scope properly to actually finish things." This skill is invaluable and the very first public demo for Amadeus (the web-based one with no ink or color assets) was a product of those priorities: it was finished on a really ambitious timeline, and certain corners were cut to just get something out there on time.

One of those cut corners was definitely the narrative. I hadn't actually figured out where I was going with the story. Even in the version from February that was released on itch and Steam, I only had a vague idea of what the full story was; it was not until just last month that I had released a game accurately representing the introduction to a fully planned-out, 5-part story.

This past year, I slowly shifted priorities away from the grad school #grindset and back towards making a work of art that I am really happy with. I could have chosen to stick with my fall 2024 release date just to get something out there. If I had, the narrative would be less coherent, it would lack several gameplay features, and it wouldn't look or sound as good. It would exist, but it wouldn't be the game that it will be, now that I chose instead to take extra time and make a better game.

I do have a final release date in mind, and I am going to earnestly work towards meeting it. But I've finally learned my most important lesson from 2024: I won't announce the release date until I'm certain it will be met, until the game is finished save for pure nice-to-haves. I don't want to make any more promises that won't be kept.

I WILL make a promise that I'm certain I can keep: it's coming in 2025. If you play the updated demo I hope that you will feel confident in this too. The baseline of the game is finished and it's feeling really, really good.

So! Where are we now, a month after that demo update?

This month I've had to briefly shift focus to real life and getting a new job. My current job is part-time which has allowed me more time to focus on Amadeus, but I am not very passionate about the work itself which has ultimately caused me to burn out, both on the clock and off. It's resulted in me not being able to take advantage of my spare time because work stress was seeping into it. I am really hopeful that what I'll be moving to instead will be personally fulfilling, and still leave more time for Amadeus than a typical 40-hour 5-day work week.

While the lifestyle shift was my main priority, I still did a lot of project management work to get back into development for the final stretch. It's been a month of pulling my head out of the weeds on the now-finished demo and zooming back out to look at the full episode's remaining needs. I've read back through all of my brainstorming and planning materials, catalogued these materials for ease of future reference (which are in about 8 million different physical notebooks and digital files), and revised my outline to make sure it all makes sense with the narrative that's now finalized.

It's not the kind of month where I have lots of nice flashy things to show, but this work was definitely necessary for me to get in the right headspace to finish the rest of the project. And I did find the time to draw another background! Dartmaure now has a downtown plaza:

 December 2024 has been an important month to get me excited about the full scope of this project again and find a work-life situation that will let me stay motivated in the long term. That's vital, because Amadeus is turning into even more of a long-term commitment than I'd already known it would be.

Speaking of long-term... I want to take the remainder of this devlog to look back on the full year. I have been working on Amadeus for nearly 2 years at this point, but this past year in particular has been kind of insane.

At the start of 2024, I thought that by the end of it I would have released Episode 1, which didn't happen. I had also thought that the final episode would look and play almost exactly like the first demo, just with some additional scenes; this isn't what happened, either.

As it turns out, the game I would end up building has so much more polish and depth to it. It would even get exhibited at MAGWest's Indies showcase! I genuinely think the game I am making exceeds all of my own prior expectations of what a game I would create all on my own could be.

(I mean, let's be clear: it's still a janky no-budget solo indie passion project by most standards. But it's so much more polished and has so much more depth to it, narratively and aesthetically, even mechanically, than I would have possibly imagined a year ago.)

It's really come together over the past year, a little bit at a time.

Looking Back at 2024

February 2024 - Original Demo Release

Launched the original version of the Episode 1 ~ Waltz demo on itch.io and Steam.

This version isn't playable on itch anymore, nor is it accurate to the narrative. You can opt into the old build on Steam if you are curious, as a matter of pure historical record.

March 2024 - 100 Wishlists on Steam

Perspective: this number is small for most developers, but it was a major milestone for me.

April 2024  - Wrote a Mystery Game

Took a month away from Amadeus to write a game for the Mystery Game Jam: Robot Detective and the Case of the Automurderated Intern.

The jam host described it as having an "Agatha Christie-like twist."

This collaboration let me focus purely on the craft of writing, which later helped me really improve Amadeus's story.

June 2024 - Steam Next Fest & Major Narrative Benchmark

Participated in my first Steam Next Fest.

Very stressful and a great learning experience.

Finalized the game's full narrative and wrote 1st draft of the entire script.

July 2024 - Major Mechanics Benchmark

Coded & implemented a majority of needed key mechanics, including:

glossary menu

save & load

seamless audio looping

rich text support

visual feedback on mouseover

August 2024 - Getting There

Made an opening cinematic that plays in-game.

Redesigned menus and interactive screen UI.

Finished a new, convention-exclusive build for Amadeus.

September 2024 - MAGWest

My first ever tabling experience!

Received so much motivating, inspiring, and positive feedback on the game.

Gained confidence that the game is in a good place to be finished based on this foundation.

People loved the art and sound direction :)

November 2024 - Feature-Complete Demo

Released the current feature-complete demo update for Amadeus.

Demo build is based on the MAGWest build with additional features and a new scene.

Currently live! On itch and Steam.

For those of you that have been following the game since February, most of this isn't news; but it's still really motivating to look back and see how much was accomplished in a year. Thank you so much for following this project. Please look forward to the full release - I promise it will be so worth it!

Happy new year - and don't forget to bookmark linktr.ee/amadeusgame for all of your Amadeus-related needs. ;)

[johnnyshrine]

★ The Johnny Shrine ★

Welcome! This is an altar dedicated to sharing a new daily creation relating to Johnny Joestar, the main protagonist from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 7: Steel Ball Run, in the year 2025.

★ the shrine's daily offerings: #shrineofferings ★ updates/non art: #updates

(Post last updated: 01/01/25)

★ Who runs this blog?

Just one guy! You can call me Sen. (he/they/it) ★ @mightysen (art/side blog) ★ @doorintosummer (personal/main blog I follow from)

★ What types of works will you be making?

That’s the beautiful part: it could be anything! For this devotional, I want there to be as few restrictions and barriers to my creativity as possible. There will almost certainly be a lot of works of visual art since that’s my background, but how they look and the tools in which they’re made may vary wildly and may get incredibly inventive. I have so many art supplies and resources I’ve been meaning to use, and I think giving myself a daily excuse to play around and have fun is good medicine. There could even be works that aren’t visual art, such as writing, music, who even knows what I’ll come up with! Some of these works will almost assuredly suck ass, some may be the greatest thing since sliced bread: I cannot guarantee which is which, but I will assure you I’ll show up every day with Something.

More questions and answers below the cut!

★ Why do this daily?

I have done a few private daily drawing and meditation challenges before, and it’s a rewarding feeling to have done a little something each day that adds to your growth. I’m also a bit of a recovering perfectionist, and I fear that if I gave myself a challenge that required more time (let’s say, a Johnny once a week) it might make me lean into my perfectionistic tendencies. I’m already well aware I can sit my ass down for 20+ hours and make something nice, I don’t need to keep proving that. I’m trying to do the opposite: I want to be able to loosen up with my drawing, make peace with making mistakes, be a little bit more vulnerable and sloppy and silly with my soul’s expression. My hope is that by the end of 2025, the vessel of all the collective art will take me into a greater understanding of myself and the world. Ultimately though, this is less about planning the perfect end goal: being present during the bizarre adventure I go on with this JoJo is truly where the magic lies.

★ Why Johnny Joestar? For starters: I think keeping the subject matter consistent is a really good benchmark to have from drawing to drawing. You know WHO to expect, but the shapes and colors and poses and methods in which he’s drawn may vary wildly, which should be fun to watch unfold. 

It also probably goes without saying, but you have to REALLY like a character to be able to commit to something like this. I have a very difficult time explaining in words why I love Johnny without it sounding esoteric, but I assure you I love him a supreme amount and I find a great deal of inspiration in him. His sense of determination is so captivating and I see such a beautiful light in him, so I want to hone in on that and pull off my own great feat! Hopefully my art and dedication will show you what my words struggle to say.

★ Will any other characters show up on this blog? Possibly! It’s not out of the question, but obviously whatever the art is, it’ll still be Johnny centric. You Cannot Escape Johnny. ★ Why are you doing this?

Despite the fact that I am posting these publicly, this is something purely for me. This is the most important step, one that I will have to remember constantly. My greatest expectation with this devotional is to have a death of the audience moment with these pieces, not caring if the art I’m making is “good” or will be “well received”, simply that it comes from the Heart, that is why this practice was founded. I don’t think it’s any secret that the overall collective of artists everywhere are in a place of burnout and dissatisfaction. My own personal distaste for my art lately has come from an anxiety of trying to fit some kind of standard that was self imposed by my own expectations and what I thought others wanted of me, stifling my creative spark by chasing after dollar signs and being a Presentable Brand™. I forgot art was fun. I forgot who I am. This daily practice is how I remember. This is my form of prayer, hence why I’m calling this landing place a “shrine”.

Admittingly, the timing is very ripe to do this in 2025. Steel Ball Run’s manga is finally releasing in English in May, and it’s incredibly likely the Steel Ball Run anime is getting announced on JoJo Day in April. The hype for these things isn’t something for me to cash in on, more like it fuels me and inspires me. I’ve had moments in my life where it felt very hard to go on, but having something to look forward to in the future would always reframe things. I want to keep living and doing my best so I can hold that hardcover manga in my hands and be there when the anime finally drops because this story and its characters mean the world to me! 2025 IS THE YEAR OF THE SPIN BABY, YEEEEEEEEEEEAH WOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

★ Why post these publicly if it’s something just for you?

Good question. I feel like the last few years of my life, I’ve kept myself rather obscured, hidden and tucked away parts of myself that felt too authentic and embarrassing and vulnerable. My artistic judgement would be clouded by imaginary ideas of what my “audience” wants from me. But it’s 2025 now, I think it’s time we unlearn shame and do as we please. I asked myself in earnest what I wanted to do in the new year, and he replied “I just wanna draw pictures of Johnny. :D” so who am I to ignore that request? I would like to put a genuine part of myself and my expression out there so that the experiences and people I meet along the way are also genuine. I have zero idea where this challenge will take me, but maybe it might inspire someone out there, to which I share. I just want to be a little more fearless in that regard.

★ Do you have any alternative plans to do anything with the works produced here?

I have a personal project that I require a lot of still images of Johnny for, if that project ever sees the light of day, it will almost assuredly contain some of the art here, however at this time no concrete planning towards that has been made.

Merch isn’t out of the question (I do make that stuff for a living) but I’m really trying to approach this act of devotion as “expression first, outcome second”. Many such cases where I’ve started a piece of art with the sole idea of having it be Marketable and it really stifles you as a person. My hope is that if mass produced merch does arise, it’s mostly a happy accident that it ended up that way.

I also think that, assuming some of these pieces will be physical, it’ll be nice to surround myself with little pictures of Johnny I made. It’s a weirdly cyclical form of motivation, to see the face of someone who motivates you and realize you’re the one that put it there, so I hope that in of itself fuels me further in not just this practice but also my daily life. Go Sen Go!! 

★ Can I suggest an idea for a work?

Sure, feel free to send ideas to my Tumblr inbox, the only requirement is that it must feature Johnny Joestar, obviously. Prompts, poses, expressions, tools, what I draw on are all open to suggestion. Keep in mind, I am under zero obligation to do any of them and some of them might be difficult if not impossible to pull off if I don’t have the specified conditions available, but who knows, you might spark something in me! If your idea is used, it will be credited.

I’m gonna mention this preemptively since you probably would NOT expect it from someone who’s dedicating a year of their life to a SBR character, but: I have NOT finished reading Steel Ball Run yet. I’m about to start reading Love Train. So if you could do me a favor and not spoil anything beyond that in your asks, I’d appreciate it. <3 I will edit this section once I’m actually done lmao, my goal is to finish this month, on or before January 18th. (I sure hope nothing bad happens! :D)

★ Can I take an idea from your works and use it?

Absolutely, go right ahead! Credit if you want, but it’s not entirely necessary.

★ Can I make my own devotional challenge like yours for Johnny/another character? If you feel inspired by what I’m doing, feel free! Alter the rules however you see fit. This idea is as free as it makes you feel. Johnny is yours as well if you want him.

★ Will you continue this beyond 2025?

Time will tell! I make no promises, especially this early in the race. Let me live through this and see how I feel.

[localrye]

Ok I decided to write a personal (very predictable) music summary for my blog, focused on hardcore, screamo and adjacent music, since it's what I generally post on here. I usually do that in my journal but I guess it'd be nice to have it accessible here too for reference. (+ in my journal I do it for other music genres as well)

I'm not like. knowledgeable about music as much as all the punx I follow here, I can't explain why I'm drawn to certain sounds or talk about music in more technical way coz I don't make my own music nor play in any bands or know anyone who does irl and it's not the way in which I interact with music, I just listen to stuff and it either makes me feel something or inspires me or stimulates my brain in a specific way and I can't stop listening. So I just like what I like and don't know how to explain it yknow!

So The best band I saw live this year was Dauðyflin. Inside the venue there was a wobbly makeshift platform that you could climb and since I'm short and can't see much in the crowd and I can't mosh anyway, I climbed it and sat there and man. That was such a good experience!! Very good energy, loved observing the band members and I also always love observing moshpits so I could see it kind of from above and it looked insane. It was I think around 23 o clock but I was very energised, fucking love Dauðyflin, great performance. Got a cassette from them but unfortunately couldn't talk to any band member coz no one was at the table for a long time so I just left the money under the cassette pile lmao

Absolutely no one will be surprised that my fav album this year was Spiral In A Straight Line by Touché Amoré. I feel like I don't even have to explain, you all know I just love TA, Jeremy's lyrics always feel like anxiety, ocd and autism and is for me. But I also loved the debut EP by Pluto The Racer!!! Was very excited for my boys, got it on vinyl and really hope I get to see them live in 2025! They just sound so sunny and make me feel like skating or just being outside! And a song from this EP (Rails) joined my long-term fav songs, it's incredibly relatable for me. I also really loved the split between ONLY and Barabbas, du förtappade. ONLY's EP from 2022 is a release I regularly listen to, so I was very excited to hear something new from them and I've been waiting for this split since autumn last year! Listened to it so much on the trains this year, it will always feel comforting! Also loved the debut EP of State Power, I listen to their pop punk band and was very excited to find out they're also playing hardcore! And Full of Hell's Coagulated Bliss, I think it's my favourite album from FoH so far?? Listened to it on a loop for like 2 weeks straight, I was obsessed.

Honorary mentions: Headlights EP by Kid, Feral (been listening to it so much this month, I love it, makes me feel like standing on the mossy boulders in my local forests and looking at the snowy mountains! or like looking up in the sky when the thick snowflakes are falling down! or like Pleiades in Taurus constellation!) Hiraeth by Respire (Respire is one of the most important bands for me and even though Hiraeth didn't make me feel like Black Line did, I still found a lot of comfort in it) Arcos, b​ó​vedas, p​ó​rticos by Tenue Universal Tension by Wonderful World Pain Without Hope Of Healing by basque

my favourite tracks this year were Recisione by Put Pùrana and Mezzanine by Touché Amoré

my favourite physical release I got this year was Colisi​ó​n's S/T EP, the vinyl has such pretty colours and I love the cover art so I was very happy to find the insert with it inside!

ok guess that's that? I don't remember if I'm waiting for anything in particular in 2025 coz I generally forget about album releases till bands start to regularly release singles or talk about it all the time so no idea lmao

[yamatossideboob]

ONE PIECE 1134 Spoilers!

This week's doppelgangers:

So this is a terrific colour spread as usual, but the fact it's likely a tribute to Kazuki Yao is very touching... enjoy your retirement ya old coot, you earned it 100 times over

Apparently this is Luffy doing a very old school yakuza greeting and manner of speech. Regardless its so funny to see him being so formal lmao

WE'LL PROTECT YOU FOR LIFE YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Soooooooooo we have Stella back now too 😒 not thrilled at yet another death being backed out of, but... this is a Stella from 20 years ago? maybe something interesting can be done here. I fuckin hope so.

Also this handily explains just how VP could get around while under surveillance. nice one Oda

Even more worrisome is the now-possibility of Oda backing out of Kuma's 'death'. Admittedly his is a little more ambiguous, but in the sense of whether he truly was alive when his will appeared to be shut down. I was hoping with many others to see him laid to rest in a dignified manner, but it seems Oda has other ideas.

"why are you a woman?" "who cares, I can explain later" yeah when you've transitioned publicly for long enough you really can just get like this, its so funny when no mortal danger is involved haaaaa

Maybe Kuma can be resurrected a lá Saul, but the track record is not brilliant wrt reneged deaths in this series!

MS. ANGE I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

I really do hate how Oda designs like 90% of OP women characters bc 1) its so fucking blatant, the man is beating zero allegations 2) he CAN create fun and interesting female character designs!! Look at her!!!! She's so blocky and stout I adore her!!!!!

this is such a cute building design, i love walrus school

HEY! ZORO! LEAVE THEM KIDS ALONE!!!

hi Ripleyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy you're so huge and beautiful

So this is an interesting development: we have a longstanding warrior culture now being made to embrace trade, education and peace. Could this be something that factors into the arc conflict?

AND this king was the one killed by his son Loki... the intrigue heightens

in a One Piece first, a library displays inherited will.. Ohara would be proud, if it were sapient

The look on Robin's face is incredible... it must be such an amazing feeling to see your childhood literally rescued in such a way

Literally who could be on the other end of the snail.... This is going to drive us mental. Is the nickname Shaggy an indicator of who they are? And besides, their remarks on Loki's kindness... Those positing that Loki ISN'T the villain of Elbaph might really be onto something after all. This is bananas, we need answers pronto!

Speaking of onto something... the yahoos claiming that Shanks has a twin might have been right all along it turns out lmfao. Like... its just not likely that THIS is Shanks, since he was just here his usual way. and obvs the panel recalls that infamous page from hundreds of chapters ago, with ol' Redhair visiting the Elders. The teleportation sigil indicates this is the same individual, AND he has company, but who could they be.... This is such an ominous note to finish out the year on, what a fucking cliffhanger lads.

And on that note, thats all the One Piece that will be published in 2024. It's been a wild year between finishing Egghead and starting Elbaph! Many astonishing moments and reveals and twists and turns! Some questions answered, mostly questions asked! Oda continues his big story stew, bubbling away, and before we know it, the pot will be empty, scraped clean by our spoons. We must enjoy it while it lasts, and hope and luck, we can do just that in 2025. Maybe Oda can stick to his next Jump Fest promise lol.

Til next year nakama! 💪✖️

[tobias-nf]

2024 recap and 2025 plans.

Another year has passed so I'm here once again with a sitrep on my deskspace. Beyond the one large project, moving my PC to the FormD T1 and the custom loop that accompanied it there weren't a lot of changes. Though two smaller things were replaced that didn't warrant their own posts so I'll go over those before laying out the plans for the future projects I'm planning.

One of those smaller things was my Sennheiser IE300 falling apart. Starting sometime this spring the two halves on one of the shells got gradually looser and even separated occasionally when I removed it from my ear. This was fine for a while but back in June (somewhat unsurprisingly) the stress on the wires from the shell coming apart was finally too much and one of them snapped off. In retrospect I wonder if cleaning them with isopropanol caused this, the two halves were only glued together from the looks of it and applying the alcohol at least once a week might've removed the adhesive over time.

By pure coincidence Chris Person of Aftermath (who is someone I have a lot of trust in when it comes to basically any tech) published an article on IEMs the day after mine broke so I didn't have to do much digging to find a suitable replacement [link]. Luckily the IEM market these days is incredibly competitive and what I ended up with was a pair of Truthear ZERO:REDs for €59.98, which is about half the price of what I paid for the IE300. I'm not really an audiophile so I can't get all technical on them but from a purely personal preference point of view I flat-out enjoy the sound of the ZERO:RED over the Sennheiser ones by a good margin. The only complaint I have about the new IEMs is that it took a while to get a decent fit with the included ear tips. The medium-sized ones were the only ones that worked on my ears but only just barely, being so big that the IEMs would occasionally even pop out on their own as I couldn't insert them deep enough (the small-sized ear tips on the other hand were the polar opposite, way too small to get a good fit so they'd also fall out). Fortunately the medium-sized ones seemed to have adjusted in shape from daily use over the course of a few months to the point where they now have a very comfortable and secure fit (the failsafe option if this didn't happen would have been to look into aftermarket ear tips). The vivid red faceplate on the new IEMs is also a nice change compared to the drab look of the IE300, so overall the Truthear ZERO:RED were a really great purchase and I'm hoping that they'll last for a good while.

The other small change was swapping out my Xbox Design Lab controller for a DualSense. No grand reason behind this change, I just got curious about how Sony's offering compared to the Microsoft one in terms of ergonomics. The overall build quality and button feel of both controllers is basically the same, either one seems decent and there's nothing that really makes one stand out from the other. Though one thing to keep in mind when using the DualSense on PC is that the haptic feedback only works when wired, in my case this wasn't an issue at all as I only use it seated at my desk and the USB-C cable gets wrapped around the monitor arm when not in use so there's no extra clutter created. In the end the symmetric stick layout on the DualSense felt more comfortable to me and the Design Lab controller went on to find a new home through eBay like any other still functional hardware that I retire.

So what is planned next? Well, since it's about time for the annual coolant change of the custom loop I'll use that as an opportunity to make a few adjustments to it, specifically to the EXT. Back when I was originally making the plans for this whole T1 build I was expecting Noctua's next generation of 140mm fans to have been released but the release date kept being pushed back, but now after almost a decade of development they're finally available. I ended up getting a full set of 8 of them for a push-pull setup, cable management is going to be even more tricky with this many but I'll be able to squeeze out the best performance and noise levels from the radiator this way. The EK X560M radiator is also going to be replaced with a Hardware Labs one that should be able to make full use of these high-end fans. All the new parts for this project have arrived already and the plan is to assemble everything over the end of the year holidays.

The other, much bigger project that I'm currently planning is about changing my HOTAS setup. At the moment I'm using an all VKB setup with a Gunfighter Mk.III stick base that's paired with their aluminum MCG Ultimate grip via a 200mm extension, all attached to the desk with a UCM-L mount and below it are T-Rudder Mk.IV rudder pedals with the older cylindrical-shaped pedal design. The throttle is a GNX THQ, it's a bit of an odd choice compared to the other sim hardware and was only meant as a cheap stopgap solution initially as VKB's more advanced throttle, the STECS had not yet been released back when I got the other parts (though I never got around to switching to it even though it's been available for well over a year by now). Oh and also as a sidenote I fly in VR with a Valve Index, that's why the stick and pedals are not in front of the monitor.

The DCS Mi-24P is currently the only aircraft I fly so having a setup where your hands are on the throttle/collective while flying at basically all times is the ideal, the GNX THQ being placed on the desk where I have to reach so far forward to access the throttle levers is pretty much the opposite of that. Improving the ergonomics of my simpit is one goal but there's also the somewhat recent development of force feedback flight sim hardware making a comeback, RedKite made a great video on how FFB works in DCS in its most basic implementation and why even just that can be a game changer for certain types of aircraft (it's also a neat example of how flight sticks on real aircraft behave and how they differ from the typical spring-centered joysticks made for flight sims) [link]. One thing to note about most of these newer FFB stick bases is that they don't seem very suited for use with desk mounts as they're pretty large and heavy, not to mention all the extra force created by the motors in them. This had me looking into those aluminum profiles that are commonly used for racing sim rigs, though I'm not planning on building something all that complex with a dedicated seat and all but instead just a stand for the stick, pedals and throttle to mount onto that can be used with my desk chair. I'm pretty sure on what stick base and rudders to get but still undecided on the grip and throttle so this project is currently still in the early planning phase.

Getting a proper, actually ergonomic HOTAS setup will also be the last big project for my deskspace (at least in the foreseeable future), with it complete I'll have everything I want out of my little hobby corner covered. Now this won't mean that there'll be nothing to work on after, it'll just be more incremental upgrades like the aforementioned changes to the EXT and more importantly I also want to start getting a little more creative. What I mean by the latter is that up till now I've mostly just assembled stuff but I haven't really created something proper, something more in the direction of DIY so that'll be the big goal moving forward. Well this basically wraps everything up, 2025 is shaping up to be another fun year for deskspace projects and I'm excited to share them on here in due time!

(≧◡≦)

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Nine

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

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

Part 9 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

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

Warnings in this Chapter: strong language; use of a derogatory slur/racist language (not said by any main character); mentions of blood and injuries; angst!  

Word Count: 11,200+

A/N: One more chapter after this - I should really stop labeling this as a mini-series considering it’s already over 100,000 total words lmao. Thank you for staying with me this long! I love you guys soooo much!!!

~

Utah Merry Hotel, January 2025, 2:09pm

     “I’m being an ol’ sport, why can’t you?” You whine, stomping your feet as you trudged up the stairs to the hotel roof. “It’s our first serious stakeout in forever! I’m pretty sure Wanda shaved her legs for this.”

Steve shoots a flustered and unsettled look over his shoulder. He’s lugging the rifles and extra equipment on both his shoulders so you know he’s truly baffled because to even attempt a look over… well, that required real effort. He doesn’t answer, however; he continues upward. 

Bucky and Clint are following close behind. They’re tired, huffing every few steps and grunting while doing so. Finally, Bucky whines and throws himself against the wall dramatically. “Remind me why we couldn’t just get Wanda and Sam to lift us up there?”

Steve readjusts one of the rifle straps while he replies, “Buck, I told you not to skip leg day.”

“I skip ‘everything’ day. I’m just now employed as a superhero, thank you very much. The serum should be enough.”

“Are we even close?” Clint asks and passes Bucky on a few steps. Bucky takes that as a challenge though and hoists himself more steps before giving up again. 

You just watch in pure amusement. Makes you really proud that your thighs are stronger than theirs. “Just a few more flights.”

They both groan in unison. Steve has already rounded the next flight, no longer waiting on the three of you. It takes several more minutes until you kick open the roof door Steve had left slightly ajar. It’s cold outside, wind howling with icy droplets whipping through your hair. It’s only fifty stories up but it’s pretty high - you can see the tops of the trees, or branches really. It’s winter in Utah and most of the trees are naked and covered in snow. You hope Bucky and Clint, the dynamic duo no one saw coming, still have good aim in this wind after a year of vacation. 

“Alright. Buck - Clint, set up over there. Y/N, you’re over there.” 

“Aye Aye, Captain.”

You set up where Steve instructed. You’ve got a simple magnifier and some binoculars - you won’t have to do any shooting today, thank the Gods. Clint’s got his arrows and Bucky’s got his sniper. Steve’s waiting for a signal from Sam if need be - he won’t need to shoot today either. 

“Wanda and Sam will let us know when the cars pass the barrier. The tech cannot, under any circumstances, pass through the gate right over there.” Steve points to the giant, black coated metal gate. There’s no one on duty. You made sure to evacuate the area and any staff before. The tech these goons are bringing in is all stolen Stark Tech. And according to Happy, strict instructions are to ‘blow it to Hell’.  

“And if it does?” Bucky asks, grinning mischievously at Steve’s pointed look. 

“What’d I just say?”

Bucky laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. “Damn, Stevie. Calm thyne tits.” He goes back to fiddling with his rifle. “Blow the tires before they reach the gates but after they pass the barrier. Got it.”

“Peter, you in position?” Steve asks and adjusts his earpiece. 

You can hear Peter over your own mic. “Seatbelts look easy enough to break. I’m in position, I can easily pull them from the trucks.”

“Five minutes then.”

You all settle in. The cold has passed through the leather of your boots and your toes are paying the price. It makes you miss the rain of spring and the sprinkles of fall, when everything is drenched rather than frozen and your toes still have mobility. Your jacket is big enough but it scratches your neck every time you lean down to look through the magnifier. As the minutes tick by, you brave the cold and take it off. You’d rather conduct your part efficiently and without the constant distraction. 

“It’s almost forty degrees out,” Steve mumbles beside you. He’s looking over the roof balcony and into the trees. He’s squints and refuses your offer of binoculars. 

“So I get a sore throat.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Tony put a heater in all our suits. You should have worn yours.”

“My suit is half nano. It’s excessive for a stakeout.”

He huffs but you ignore him, choosing to look through the rejected binoculars instead. He shuffles, and then there’s a warm weight enveloping your shoulders. It’s his sweater, cotton and baby blue, and he lifts the hood to cover your cheeks and ears. Your stomach flip-flops.

“Uh, thank you,” you say and zip it closed.

Steve shrugs lightly, “Don’t mention it.”

So you don’t. He doesn’t look cold besides or he’s just really good at masking it. It’s quiet now; you can’t really hear the quiet mutters of Clint and Bucky enough to join in and to not mention the jacket is eating at you. You opt for a casual conversation instead while you wait. 

“Soooo… how’d your date go last week?”

Steve clears his throat and turns to you, a forced grin on his face. “They, uh, they were sweet.”

“Sweet,” you repeat, nodding at nothing and cursing yourself for creating such an awkward moment. “Going on a second one?”

He sighs and his expression actually turns truthful. “No, don’t see that happening.”

For a second, you’re appalled. Who wouldn’t give Steve a second date? He’s an absolute catch and being a famous superhero wasn’t exactly a dealbreaker for many. Or maybe it was and Steve was blaming his alias once again for no fairytale ending. “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t want you?”

The words leave your mouth too quickly to reel them back in. Steve’s cheeks turn pinker, both from your words and the chill, and he ducks his head low as he answers. “It’s my fault, really. They were sweet but I wasn’t paying much attention.”

“Mm, on your phone? Daydreaming? Were they a bore?”

Steve chuckles, “I pulled out my phone, like, once to answer a text but I was a proper gentleman!”

The tension is slowly melting and there’s a soft twinkle in his eye as he laughs. It’s been so long since he’s looked at you this way: on his own accord and not on order. “Bucky said they were, and I quote,” you lower your voice and look over at Bucky to make sure he’s distracted. “‘Cute as hell’.”

Steve gives Bucky a warm look. “Eh, it’s fine. Wasn’t the one.”

“The one,” you mock in a deep voice. “Who texted you that it was so important to ignore someone cute as hell?”

Steve hesitates and looks over the balcony as if wishing for an interruption. But the trucks aren’t near yet and Sam hasn’t given the signal. “Uh, it was Peter.”

“Oh, don’t tell him that. He’ll feel incredibly guilty if he ruined your chances at getting laid.”

Steve shoves your shoulder a bit harder than he intended and it makes you stumble back. He quickly catches you by the arm and holds you still, a sheepish smile painting his pink face. He mumbles a quick ‘sorry’, and goes back to lean over the railing. “It’s cool, he knew.”

You fake a surprised gasp, “Even worse!”

“He needed me to stop by the compound and I did. Really, it’s okay,” Steve assures and he’s speaking a little quicker. He fidgets with his thumbs and it looks like he wants to wrap up that portion of the conversation. But he looks over at you and sighs deeply, and he rolls his eyes as his upper lip tilts upward. “Ask.”

“What’d he want?” It makes your belly all warm to know he expects this enthusiasm from you.

“Wanted me around. Buck and Wanda were out getting dinner.”

“Yeah, but like, what for?”

He gives you a knowing smile, like you walked right into that trap. “You made dinner but Peter was too nice to say he didn’t enjoy it, so he texted me knowing I would like it. Knowing I had it before. He didn’t want there to be leftovers because then you’d be sad.”

You step back and shake your head like there’s a fly swarming around. It startles you. “You left your date… during dinner… to come to the compound to eat the dinner I made instead?”

“Don’t think too much about it.”

“How not?”

It’s five minutes when Sam calls it in. You groan in frustration and give Steve a look that says the conversation isn’t over. 

There are four armored vehicles and the magnifier illuminates three bodies per car. The targets will be hit starting from the last to keep the explosions out of each driver’s line of sight. 

“Target acquired,” Bucky mumbles and clicks off his safety. He closes one eye and settles comfortably as he awaits Steve’s signal.         

Clint tugs back an arrow, “Same here, Cap.”

“Wanda, you ready?” Steve’s voice is lower when he’s focused. He looks over at you, your hand up with an index finger raised, and waits. Wanda answers that she’s ready and Sam counts it down. The first truck crosses the barrier, then the next, next, and finally the fourth and you drop your hand in a fast swipe. 

“Fire! Go Parker!”

Bucky shoots the back tires of all four vehicles and Clint shoots his arrows to penetrate through the passenger doors. Peter works fast, webs slinging from side to side grabbing one passenger right after the other. Once the trucks are empty, Clint activates the arrows and you all prepare for the explosions. The fourth car catches flame first and Wanda contains the explosion perfectly, balling it up into a weak bundle of light and string. She does the same to the third and second, bundles extinguishing just as quickly as they burst. But the first car swings out of control on manual and the explosion is delayed.

“Clint?”

Clint leans over the balcony and squints, as if it would help. “I don’t know. It’s not going off.” He’s clicking the detonator repeatedly, holding it up for all of you to see. 

“Wanda, the truck! The truck! Sam!” You scream as the truck crashes through the gate and hurls closer to the hotel. The commotion is enough for Bucky to pop out from his cover and the four of you watch in horror as the truck still doesn’t stop. Clint has stopped clicking the button, but it’s no use. The truck finally explodes in an outbreak of debris and electricity. The Stark Tech reacts poorly to the strain, electric gusts of smoke fire left and right and rattle the building. It feels like an earthquake, shaking the already weak foundations and old brick. Wanda catches the bottom to better contain it and tries desperately to smother it. But the shaking doesn’t stop and the corners of the roof are collapsing. 

Steve leaps to grab and pull you away and just as quickly to catch Clint’s leg before he falls over the edge. Clint is thrown back rather harshly but Steve isn’t thinking about the abuse of strength right now - no, not while Bucky slips and hangs on to a rogue pipe. Steve crawls and latches onto his hand before the pipe gives way. He yells as he tugs Bucky up with only one arm, the other having to hold onto undisturbed brick. He won't let Bucky fall. Not again.

Bucky throws his leg up and over solid ground, and you go to help Steve pull him up. Bucky’s heavy and his metal hand pinches your skin bad but he’s safe. Wanda struggles to contain the electricity but she’s succeeding. The rumbling slows until nothing moves anymore. You collapse back in exhaustion.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned,” Bucky gasps as he rubs his face. 

“Is Wanda okay?” You mumble more to yourself and struggle to pull yourself back up. But the sudden weight of your body proves too much for the edge and in a horrible wave, you’re falling through. You practically file your nails as you try to latch onto falling brick.

“No!” You feel the scratch of someone’s fingers along your forearm and soon they’re digging into your skin, and it hurts but you figure it’s better than splitting your skull open. Pebbles of concrete are falling down onto your face and the smoke from the explosion is clogging your nostrils. You hang for a few seconds, like the person can’t believe they actually caught you. Then they begin pulling you up, lifting you to safety, and you claw the rest of the way only to tumble into Steve’s chest, shaking. 

He pulls you into his arms but they’re restless, roaming over your shoulders and through your knotted hair clumsily. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His voice wavers and he’s on the verge of tears, it seems. His waterline is glossy and his lips are quivering. “Answer me.”

“I’m fine, hey. Steve? I’m good.”

He pulls away and his hands hover you like he doesn’t know what else to do with them. “I’m sorry. I should have kept you close. I-” His voice cracks and he swallows hard. “You sure you’re okay?”

Disregarding his words is difficult, especially when you feel a second meaning to them, but you force yourself to do so. It’s been such a long time since you’ve seen him like this. And each time you have, it was never because of anything good. “Y-yeah. I’m good, Rogers.”

Bucky and Clint look at each other, they look at Steve, to you, and back to each other. Finally, Clint breaks the silence and huffs a light chuckle. “Are we really THAT rusty?”

Present Day, 2025, 11:45pm

    The Montana skies are clear and free of passenger planes, allowing the Quinjet to swift easily on autopilot. You could never drive this thing and the building anxiety of that reality bubbles each time it makes an unsteady bounce. 

Steve’s laying in the makeshift medical wing and though it’s against protocol, he’s on a secure line with Dr. Cho. She takes her time, albeit working as fast as possible too, and her light voice is fairly calm. It settles you to hear her speak this way. 

‘I need you to use this disinfectant, Captain Rogers. Do not pour it on all at once… Good, now dig through gently and make sure the pliers are sanitized.’

Steve digs out the bullets himself and bites down on a clean towel. He’s biting down hard enough that his teeth make a squeaking sound against it. It takes every ounce of your willpower to not do it for him. The Montana skies are beautiful, at least. It’s a good distraction. 

Steve gives a rather painful yell as he finally plucks the second bullet, cursing as a stream of blood drips onto the table. He’s got such tough skin - miracle or serum - that the bullets didn’t pass all the way through. Dr. Cho moves on to how to properly bandage the wound but Steve begins to tune her out. 

Two years mucking through mud and bodies and getting patched up every other day has prepared him for whatever life may throw during this new century. Not much has changed, it seems. 

When the line disconnects, Steve can finally just relax. He focuses on the soft rumble of the engine and your steady breaths. 

     You hold your breath as you settle the Quinjet on the open field, only half of you actually trusting automatic tech. Steve coaches you the whole time too, the little shit, and promises you’ll never be doing that again. 

Steve stumbles and teeters and falls on the porch steps with a low groan. You let him fall because you know you’d only fall with him. He catches himself with the hand he’s been pressing over the bandage while the other still holds on to you. You fight the urge to crash down with him and bite your lip as you look up to the night sky. 

“C’mon, Rogers,” you swallow down the increasing worry, “We’re almost inside.”

Steve huffs a pained laugh and nods. He grabs your arm again and with his remaining strength, pulls himself up,

The inside of the cabin looks comfier than the outside. You help Steve to the couch closest to the unlit fireplace before going out back to turn on the power. There’s a thin layer of ice in the grass so just in case, you scope out the garage and make sure there are snow supplies. Not that you really know what the hell snow supplies actually look like, but there’s a shovel and you figure that’s as much as your brain is going to piece together. 

When you get back inside, Steve’s fumbling with the coffee maker and leaving tiny fingerprints of blood over every surface he touches. You don’t comment on them, just step back and discreetly wipe the counters each time he passes. 

“Figured you’d like a pot,” Steve says. 

It damn near breaks your heart how small his voice sounds. The fact he’s stumbling around the cabin making sure you’ve got your coffee fix while he’s nursing two bullet wounds damn near snaps it in two.

“Thank you,” you respond and go to lead him back to the couch. He moans quietly when he sits and again as you lay him down. “I hope you don’t think I’m sleeping here,” Steve laughs and tries to hide his wince due the uncomfortable rumble. 

You smile and touch your hand to his hot cheek. His body is working overtime fighting off infection and regenerating tissue. His cheeks are a lovely scarlet red and so is the beautiful bulb of his crooked nose. He’s a little shiny, like varnish over light paint strokes, and taking the fever like a champ. “I’ll help you to the bed in a little bit. Let’s get that fever down first.”

Steve sighs, defeated, but nods. He lays his head back on the pillow and once he shuts his eyes, you get to work. The bathroom is stocked with the simple necessities: aloe vera, vapor rub, heating and cold pads, dozens of towels, and painkillers. You pop two painkillers yourself before gathering everything and dropping it on a nearby table in the kitchen. The coffee is about done brewing so you fill up a mug with bottled water and set it in the microwave for two minutes. You dip a chamomile tea bag a few times once the water is heated. There’s no teapot - you’ll apologize to Steve later. 

Once Steve’s happily sipping his tea, you start on the medicine. You wet the small towels and lay them over his forehead and bare chest. You rub aloe vera on the other cuts he obtained from hand-to-hand and finally rub the vapor rub in the dip of his neck and just below his nose. Steve gives you this funny smile as you do so, scrunching his nose and wiggling it back and forth. 

“Vicks,” you say as you show him the small container. “Heal you right up.”

“I bet,” he laughs. “Stuff smells like what I think liquid morphine would taste.” A laugh bursts from your chest, your first real instance of calm during these last few hours. You ignore his protests and smother more across his chest. 

Steve settles deeper into the couch and returns to his tea. He’s got less sweat on his skin now but he’s still red. You go to pour yourself that coffee and return to his side. The nanotech is growing stiffer and scratching your skin but you refuse to get comfortable until Steve’s fever breaks. You’re still covered in Ernesto’s blood, the red now a hellish brown, and you try not to move your face much for risk of feeling the dry pull of it. 

“Steve,” you try, but Steve shakes his head and makes sure to meet your gaze before he speaks. 

“No. The less I know the better.”

It surprises you, makes you feel more guilty, but you understand. Not telling him the full truth would be beneficial in the long run. Still, your hands hug the mug closer to your chest. “Do you think I did something bad?”

His upper lip tugs upward, “Do you think you did something bad?”

You don’t think for long. There’s not much need to. “No.”

He nods, “But you care what I think?”

“Of course I do. You’re not just my Captain anymore - you’re my friend. I care even when I’m asking you if my eggs need more salt.”

“You trust me enough to correct your cooking?” He teases, but it’s a question disguised as another. 

“I trust you enough to tell me if I need more salt. You’re not correcting it.” He laughs and dips deeper into the couch. The bandage is bleeding through, only slightly, so you move to find the first-aid kit. 

“Hey, it’s okay. It’ll stop bleeding soon.”

You hum your disagreement. “I’m gonna keep it clean until you’re strong enough to shower.”

“You can always help me shower,” he mumbles into his tea. 

Rolling your eyes, you gently nudge his shoulder as you sit back down with the kit. “If you fall, I can’t catch you, you big lug. We’d have to tell everyone we screwed in there because you falling on top of me, injured, is somehow more embarrassing.”

He allows you to remove the soiled bandage and dab around the healing wounds. He’s bruising around the sides, multiple shades of green and yellow already, and the holes are stitched rather poorly. It makes you feel a little better about your own criss-cross work - even Steve sucks at it. 

“I’m sorry I had to go and get myself shot,” Steve apologizes and sucks in a deep breath when the towel drags a little too roughly. 

“Yeah, what the hell happened there?”

He almost mimics you in the way he shrugs his shoulders and lifts his arms in that ‘well, fuck if I know’ position, pursing his lips and expelling a chuckle. “Had my gun trained on Ernesto. Ernesto had his own on Ramirez. Then Seda came in and Ernesto ordered Ramirez to hand his over to Seda. Played right into Seda’s hands.”

You process the explanation slowly and dab his wound a few more times before unwrapping the clean bandage. “And the damn shield?”

Steve’s embarrassed by that small detail, he’ll admit it, because he truly was blindsided by Seda’s appearance. You were supposed to be holding him down after all. “In my defense! When it’s shrunk down and in your pocket rather than latched onto one’s arm, it’s easily forgettable.”

You clean around the wound softly before placing and taping the new bandage. The conversation settles and you’re both quiet for a long, long minute. He thanks you for cleaning him up by rubbing sweet circles into the knuckles of your right hand. Finally, you can’t take it anymore. It’s like a wave of irrefutable worry and rage, all bunched together with each emotion trying to outweigh the other. That goddamn riptide, sucking you in and keeping your head below water just for the hell of it. Breathing in harshly, you fail to keep yourself from stuttering over your words. “I’m sorry.”

Steve bites back a groan of pain as he leans over to take your cheeks in his palms. The brush of his fingertips lets you know that you’ve already started crying. You don’t much care about the facade anymore. “Doll, listen to me. Listen.”

“I never meant to leave you alone.”

“You never did.”

You bark out a wet laugh, sarcastic. “I should have run faster. I should have killed him all those years ago. I should have never brought you into this.”

“You did what you had to do,” he says, fiercely. He forgets his own strength for a second, only slightly diminished from the healing process, and loosens his tight grip against your cheeks. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

“I wanted to hate you,” you admit. Your bottom lip is trembling and your hands clench together over your thighs. “I wanted to hate you so much. If I did, then you getting hurt or killed on this mission wouldn’t hurt so bad. I hated you for what you did. Because it made me realize that I could never hate you at all.”

“Hey,” he tries, hands now lowering to clutch at your own. “Stop apologizing for having a heart. Stop thinking you’re not worthy of even having one.”

Your face crumbles and Steve realizes for the first time in a long time just how much you’ve been holding in. “Why didn’t you use the stones?”

Steve’s heart clenches at the sound of the crack in your voice. He hasn’t heard that crack since Clint fell to his knees without Natasha by his side. He holds onto you tighter and prepares himself for an admission he never thought he would ever have to give. “Because Peggy told me not to.”

Something confusing happens in the middle of your chest. It clenches with anger but understanding. The answer to your question was always this simple but it looks like it’s tearing Steve apart from the inside-out.

    She’s as beautiful as the day he went into the ice. All he has to do is whisper her name so sweetly, delicately, and she turns her head like she’s answering the prayer. First her knees buckle, eyes watering and blotching her vision, and she collapses on the soft grass of her backyard. Steve’s holding her the very next second, repeating that he’s real, he’s here. 

“Steve,” Peggy gasps, hands shaking as she brings them to his wet cheeks. She grips and pokes and does everything so comically that Steve laughs a wet laugh when she starts smacking him. “What is going on?”

And he tells her. Everything he can remember: the good, the bad, the wretched. He spills everything, and he spills the most delicate information of their time: he’s alive, just frozen; Bucky’s alive, just hurt; the world is saved, just broken. Whether she believes it or not Steve’s not sure, but he’s so goddamn happy to see her again that he chokes every other word. 

“And you? You’re happy?”

His eyebrows come together and he looks at Peggy like she’s speaking another language. She’s got the same red lipstick, same curl in her hair even if it’s longer now, and she’s filling out her dresses more. “Pegs, don’t ask me that.”

She detaches herself slowly from his arms, pausing their dance as she speaks. “Why not? You can’t expect me to accept that you stopped by to see me all willy-nilly after saving the universe.” Her lips twitch into a knowing smile and Steve melts. Her voice is sending him into a spiral, a world he never thought he would see again, and he realizes just how much he loves accents on women  - especially this woman. 

“I just,” he chokes out, and brushes his index finger down her cheek. “I had to see you again.”

“I get that,” Peggy says and pays no mind that the record player has stopped; she still sways gently with Steve. “But you’ve just mentioned a whole other world you’ve been a part of. You’ve got your best guy back, that Wilson fellow sounds like the life of the party, and this Agent Y/N certainly sounds like she’s been by your side through it all.”

Steve stutters in his step and holds her closer. Her stomach presses against his, and he stops abruptly. He looks down between them and runs his hand from her shoulder, down, to lay across her growing belly. “Pegs.”

She gives him the same wide and proud smile she gave him when he returned with the 107th. She lays her hand over his. “I know.” She laughs and tilts her head lovingly. “I’m happy, too.”

Steve bites his lip to keep from sobbing. He was so stupid for coming to this timeline, for ruining Peggy’s chance at happiness, for interrupting the life he already knew she created for herself. He inputted the wrong year, he suddenly realizes, and steps back arms-length from her. “I’m sorry, I was stupid to come here. I just wanted to see you and then I did, and I… I still love you, Pegs.”

“Oh,” Peggy gasps, bottom lip trembling. “Darling, do not mistake yourself, even for a second, into thinking that I do not love you too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing for having a heart.”

He wants to argue, say he’s stupid a million more times, but he finds himself listening to her gentle words. It’s Peggy, Steve thinks. She’s always been right.

“In this world you live in, you have James?” He nods. She continues, “In this world you live in, you just lost two of your most loved friends?” He nods again. He wipes his face from forehead to chin. “In this world you live in, you have met a woman who has the same stubbornness as you; has the same self-sacrificing streak, who has your heart in such shambles that you dare call her one of your best friends?”

Steve thinks of you and how broken your smile was as you waved him goodbye, hand clenching Sam’s as Steve gathered the stones and Mjolnir. He thinks of the times you’d leap onto his back and demand a ride; the times he’s saved your ass in a firefight; how his sleep has definitely improved ever since he started calming you from nightmares - he hasn’t slept so well since before the war. He nods again.

Her eyes go soft. “Steve,” she starts and Steve knows. He doesn’t want to know. “Don’t abandon the world you’ve built for yourself. Surround yourself with the people you love. Do this for me.”

“There’s so much hate and blood waiting for me when I get back, Pegs. I don’t want to-”

“There is a difference between you not wanting to and you having to.” He drops his head and focuses on the floor. Peggy isn’t done grilling him, however, and he looks back up to grant her the respect. “You must not abandon the world you helped create. I’m not saying this to be mean. I’m saying this because I know you don’t want to.”

“Pegs.”

“I see right through you, Steve. We marched together through mud and blood before. We’ve got two years of fighting side by side under our belts. I’ve seen you at your worst, and you I. I know that face anywhere.”

“I missed you, Pegs,” Steve breathes. She cups his face with her hands and draws their foreheads together.

“The stars weren’t written in our favor. But to know that you’re alive, and that you make it, and that you actually get to live,” she bites back a sob. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“It isn’t my world to begin with.”

“No, you’re a man out of time. But so is James. You won’t abandon him now, will you?”

He chuckles low and their noses touch. “Stop making me feel guilty for wanting to find you, Peggy.”

She presses a soft kiss to the side of his mouth and finally breaks away. “And you won’t abandon that sweet girl who has put up with your nonsense for the last five years, you say?”

Steve shakes his head and meets Peggy’s gaze. “I’m just tired.”

“They are too, I bet.” He turns to the door and to Peggy, and she figures it’s almost time for him to leave. “You have been the archer and the brave, Steve. I’m absolutely certain you’ve been more. You will be more.”

Steve says his final goodbyes and stops to remember the fine details of Peggy’s face. The fifties are treating her well. Steve expected nothing less. Bright lights flash around him and he’s back to the world he wanted to leave, to hide from, and he sees you - and your mouth parts in shock.

     “And you listened to her?” you ask. 

Steve smiles, although it’s hard for him to remember that conversation. “I came back. I didn’t listen to her when she said to surround myself with people who love me, and who I love in return.”

“No, you made damn sure of that.”

“Hey,” Steve chuckles. “Don’t take smacks at me when you’re down.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Sorry, it’s just too easy sometimes.” Laughing about the two years of missed chances and spoiled friendship was not on your bingo card for this week. 

“I don’t know how this is going to play out,” you admit. Steve looks so young with a somber expression: his eyebrow creases gently without wrinkling the rest of his forehead, the side of his mouth tilts downward, and his eyelashes kiss the pink of cheeks. “I decided in the moment. So I’m fuck all out of ideas on how to proceed.”

He nods in understanding. “Guess we just have to look over our shoulders three times instead of two now.”

“Simple like that?” You scrub a hand over your face and curse inwardly when you smudge your lipstick down to your chin. You ignore it. “I know we’re Avengers, but.”

“No buts,” Steve says and moves to sit up. You help him by pushing his shoulders and he accepts your help as you struggle to the bathroom. “You helped the guy and his daughter. I’m sure he’s going to be watching our backs from now on.”

You help Steve strip from his dress pants and shoes and finally remove your suit as well. The graze on your arm is covered in brown, dried blood but the wound isn’t deep. It’ll sting like a sunburn, you know that, but it’s better than being shot through. You watch Steve enter the shower and leave the curtain drawn. His bandage is soaked again but thankfully it’s from the water and not more blood. You grab a spare towel and soak it with water and soap, and rub it across your lips and chin. 

“Let me do that,” Steve calls. You strip bare and bring the towel with you into the shower. Steve takes it and scrubs over your face, gently but more rough as he gets to your eyes. It’s an innocent moment of ‘ouch, scrub softer!’ and ‘surprised I didn’t take all your lashes off’. He helps clean your wound as well and once you’re both clean, he bandages you up and you him. 

The master bedroom is the only room without electricity so you gather some candles. It’s like the two of you won’t admit you’re currently afraid of the dark or what may lie in it. They illuminate the room in a delicate orange and it’s such a peaceful color to briefly see before falling asleep, head tucked into Steve’s chest and his heartbeat thrumming gently with your breath. 

     It’s a wonder what a night’s sleep can do. Steve’s wounds are sealed and his fever is gone, but there’s a signature left behind. A pink and white patch of skin as tender as a newborn’s, a memory. Steve pours your coffee and his tea while you trace your fingers over it.

Two hours after eating a small breakfast and securing the perimeter, a soft ding startles you from the random book you’re reading. Steve’s phone shines with a message from Sam. It simply reads: ‘Clear’. Grabbing the phone and walking out onto the porch, you find Steve sitting on one of the steps he tripped over just yesterday. He’s sketching the sky and the trees, taking his time on the lines of the branches, the strokes of the leaves, and the frost over them. He looks up, studies his surroundings, and looks back down to add a detail he previously missed. He sniffs, rubs his nose, and finally notices you leaning against the doorframe. 

“Hey,” he says, soft. “Any news?”

You hold up his phone and nod. “Sam says we’re clear to fly in.”

Steve looks back to his drawing. You hesitate before speaking, knowing damn well an all clear means get your ass back as soon as possible. “Finish your drawing. I’ll pack whatever we need to.” Steve’s mouth parts but he shuts it just as quickly. Slowly, he nods. 

     There isn’t much to pack since you brought nothing but the clothes on your backs. Everything at the hotel was collected before the wedding and should have flown back with Scott and the others. It feels awkward stealing bottled water and processed foods to hoard on the quinjet, but it’s a necessity. Steve meets you at the quinjet doors, shows you his drawing, and volunteers to take the wheel. 

“You’re not volunteering. You’re ordering.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “No license, no drive.”

“What are you? A cop?”

“Don’t think for one second I won’t actually hand the wheels over and happily crash while screaming ‘I told you so’.” 

Steve steers for the duration of your flight. The next few hours are spent just enjoying each other’s company, speaking of all things and simply catching up. It’s amazing how much you two missed from one another’s lives those two years.

      The landing base is clear and it’s Sam who’s waiting for you as the Quinjet manually lands itself. He shoots you a gap-toothed smile and extends his arms, pulling the two of you in at the same time for a strong hug. He’s talking a mile a minute about how successful the mission was, how Fury is over the moon that it’s finally over, how the DEA is thinking of congratulating everyone one by one. It’s enough to distract Steve, who’s just happy to see his best friend again, but it isn’t enough for you. The large metal doors sealing the storage facility from the rest of the compound are thrown open. Bucky stumbles through and practically sprints over to the three of you. 

“Get back on the jet,” he orders, already pulling you by the arm. You all look at one another like he’s gone mad but that’s impossible. Bucky’s paranoia isn’t something to take lightly; he’s right nine out of ten times. 

“Buck, what-?”

“Rhodes couldn’t hold them. They have warrants, Steve.”

Steve hauls Sam onto the jet as well. “Warrants for who?”

“Get down from the jet without a fight and this will all go smoothly.”

There are about twenty uniformed officers surrounding the jet. They spread out in case anyone decides to run but it seems pointless to even try. Secretary Ross points his gun directly at you, proud and tall and looking just the same as you remember him. Last time you saw him was at Tony’s funeral. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you bite, and raise your hands in cooperation. Ross shakes his head and his expression contorts into one of disgust. There are red beams coming from each gun but your friends are clean - the beams are only pointed at you.

“Agent Y/N Y/LN, you’re under arrest for multiple charges of drug smuggling, trafficking of illegal goods, the murder of Ernesto Vega and Daniel Seda, aiding and abetting drug-lord Omar Ramirez, and for conspiracy against the United States of America. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a federal court of law...”

You drone out half way through. Ross finishes up the speech but no one is listening. Sam is already yelling over your Miranda Rights and Bucky’s frozen in place. Steve’s fighting his way through to Ross, pushing through the muscle until he’s face to face with him. But Ross isn’t fazed. There’s nothing left to do but exit the jet. 

Immediately there are handcuffs slapped to your wrists. Two men drag you over to the containment car that’s enforced with so much indestructible material it’s almost insulting. You weren’t enhanced - they were doing this for fun.

“You’ve got it all wrong! Y/N! Y/N!”

You don’t fight. Conspiracy… you’re surprised they didn’t just shoot you dead. Steve’s still yelling, begging to be heard, but you try to block him out. It’s not your first time being arrested but it is your first time being charged with something you didn’t do. As funny as that sounds, it’s terrifying. 

“Steve,” you say, and Steve breaks through some more hired muscle so he’s within earshot. “It’s okay.”

His face pulls up in pain, “No, you didn’t do this! They’re not listening!”

One of the officers pushes your head down roughly and tries to shove you in the backseat. You’re still looking at Steve. And those eyes, wounded and vulnerable, haunt him even after the door shuts and the car drives away.

     There’s a privilege attached to the mantle of Captain America. Perhaps he was too blind to see it during the war or just too proud he was finally being heard and respected, but now he sees it for what it really is. It’s a mantle this country has never truly associated with the person but with the purpose. Steve was manufactured to help protect this country under government orders and when he defied that purpose, he disgraced the mantle. Seems like some people idolize the role a little too much. 

But he’s still Captain America. This reality has continued to clear his name from stunts he pulls and laws he breaks. And once Steve is able to walk away without so much as a scratch, he leaves bodies behind.

Sharon. Sam. Bucky. Wanda. And now you. All people who fought his fight and weren’t granted the quick privilege of that perceived pureness and holiness. He was always ready for combat, he was built for it, but he didn’t really want it. 

Did he?

Ripping that star off his chest was one thing. Accepting his new shield cemented his continual legacy as the Star-Spangled Man. He deserved to be in that cell with you. But if he learned anything about how the world works, it’s that cruelty doesn’t just win in the movies. All of his enemies started out friends and if he had to bet, he’d bet the reason they’re labeled as such is partially because of him. 

So he sits and listens to everyone’s ideas and plans, vetoing and dismissing one right after the other, his mind doing jumping jacks. He’s both there and not, drowning in the fact that he made it home and you didn’t. He doesn’t know how to sleep without the sound of your snoring anymore. 

He sits and listens. 

    The cell isn’t one you would expect for someone who has been charged for betraying her country. It’s modestly furnished: a black cot in the far right corner with a mini table beside it, a desk with some paper, and a door that leads to the private bathroom. All in all, the room’s size is that of a child’s bedroom; there’s no actual pens and pencils for risk of violent behavior and there’s a bulb camera that moves when you move. 

You’ve been trapped in worse. 

Countless detectives and investigators have visited already. They all ask the same questions: Why did you do it? Did Captain Rogers know? Who are you, really? 

You give the same answers: I didn’t do it. Of course, every single person knows. Who do you think I am?

Every time they leave more discouraged than the one before them, refusing to compare notes with one another in case they were in possession of gold. They all ignore you when you try to ask for Steve and his wellbeing. Their faces contort, they whisper to their partners, and they shake their heads in disappointment. One even goes as far as to threaten you, warning you to keep Captain Roger’s name out of your wetback mouth or else, until he’s escorted from the cell. Not that it really matters - the manipulated ideals of these people will always blur their search for the truth. And when the truth fails to satisfy such greedy manipulations, they choose to create their own.

There is one agent who peaks your interest. He offers you gum when he settles in the chair near the door. His name badge reads ‘Kavert’; it glares in the bright lights overhead and he makes no other attempt at small talk once he gets comfortable and opens his little notepad. 

That goddamn notepad, you think. Every single person before has prided themselves over it, scribbling little notes about your tone of voice, body movement, and vague answers. You never give much, Natasha had taught you better, so they always end up writing less than two bullet points before giving up. 

But Agent Kavert surprises you by opening up to a blank page, spitting his chewed gum in the middle, and then he shuts it closed. He offers you a real smile, one that doesn’t look practiced or forced. It lets you study him without being so guarded or uncomfortable. He seems young, not really a rookie but it’s obvious he’s spent more time behind a desk than out in the field. His dark hair is short, sprinkled grays near his temples, and his attire screams upper level. His build is lean, his gun is in the holster on his right hip, and a part of you knows he’d put up a hell of a fight if you tried to escape. 

“I was gonna comment on what lovely weather we’re having, but I don’t think you get out much.” 

You’re startled into a real laugh. Satisfaction washes over his face. 

“I think you’re wasting your time, Agent Kavert.”

He grins and moves to proudly pull at his jacket and present his badge. He sets the notebook to the side and leans forward to cup his hands together on his knees. 

You squint at him. There’s nothing interesting about you right now: back against the wall as you sit criss-crossed on the cot, sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, hair brushed but a little greasy. Your last shower was two days ago and you figure they’ll let you have one tonight. 

“Yeah, you’re right. There’s no point in hoping you’ll tell me anything you haven’t shared yet.”

“Nope.”

He hums low in his throat and tilts his head to the left. Now, he squints at you. “I just don’t get it. How did you do it? Not show up on our radar, I mean?”

It doesn’t seem like he’s calling you guilty or innocent. Already he’s one-hundred percent different from the other agents. “I wasn’t exactly hiding.”

He sits up to lean back in the chair, “Different last name, government and Avenger protection, covering your tracks so carefully even the DEA missed you.”

“You’ve done your homework.”

“Yes, but,” he starts. He acts like he’s having a normal conversation on his front porch. “It still doesn’t make sense. How could Nick Fury miss this? Tony Stark? After the whole Obadiah situation, I expected him to-”

“It’s simple, really. Do you want to know or do you want to keep making assumptions?”

He’s watched the other agents leave by this point. Some couldn’t even make you talk. So he shuts up and waves his hand for you to continue. 

“Cool,” you breathe out. “First of all, I’m literally only telling you this because I’ve already been refused a lawyer or some crap like that and I highly doubt this is going to actual court. The publicity would be horrible.” 

He bites his lip but you catch the little smile forming. You continue, “And I have nothing to hide. I’m sure my Captain, my teammates, and Fury himself have given their sides. Am I right?”

Agent Kavert adjusts himself in the seat and nods in response. He doesn’t dare interrupt you now. 

“Good, then I’ll keep it sweet. They knew who I was. I was recruited to be an inside source, a double agent, and this wedding was the perfect chance to corner those men,” you declare, turning your hands palm up and shrugging your shoulders. “There, happy?”

“Double agent.” Agent Kavert chews over the words, rolling them around on his tongue a few more times. He’s squinting harder and you can see his brain working. The next sound to leave his lips is a heavy sigh and a feeling of immense irritation washes over you. It wasn’t enough.  “Are we going to be truthful yet, Agent?”

Chuckling lightly, you rest the back of your skull on the wall. It was wrong to assume he’d be any different from the others. “Of course you don’t believe me. You want more, they all do. I don’t suppose I have anything better to do.”

He claps his hands on his thighs and leans forward again, loud and restless. “Then let’s get started, really: Did you or did you not let Omar Ramirez, Mexican drug-lord involved with Ernesto Vega, your father... imagine that, run away from a crime scene, evade arrest, and possibly leave the country?”

“You expect me to follow all those questions?”

“It’s not the time to be funny.”

“You were enjoying it just a second ago,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows, still waiting for an answer.  “Then let me put it simply: no, I did not.”

“Did you or did you not assassinate Ernesto Vega?”

“I would have remembered such a brilliant kill if it came from my gun.”

“So that’s a no… Daniel Seda?”

“His gun was pointed at my Captain. Yes.”

“Against orders, then?”

Confusion is written all over your face and you make sure the camera knows it too. There are only so many times you can repeat yourself. “Don’t you have Steve’s report? Scott’s?”

“We have to hear the story from you, Agent.”

“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? You don’t believe me.”

He shrugs and quickly scans you up and down. Even if he doesn’t have the tangible notepad in his hands, he’s getting away with making mental notes. “The story just isn’t piecing together the way it should be. Why would Daniel Seda murder his greatest ally and friend?”

“Our mics have already transcribed that answer for you, sir. I’m sure of it. And I’ve got sources outside of the DEA and Avengers-”

“Like Maribel Rodrigo? Another smuggler who has operated inside the cartel, HYDRA, Madripoor…”

You cut him off, angry. “Not the full story.” 

Tone of voice: defensive.

“Then that leads me to my next question.”

“Oh, fun.”

Tone of voice: sarcastic.

He speaks with a tinge of astonishment hidden in every syllable. “Why didn’t you do it? Kill Ernesto, I mean.”

“I was disarmed at the time. The Captain and I both were,” you answer, growing more impatient by the second.

He uses his hands to speak now, finger pointing along an invisible timeline detailing the order of events. “So you admit you were going to kill him if you had your weapon.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Body movement: rigid.

“Or maybe you weren’t. Maybe my boss is right, maybe the FBI is right in thinking that you are a double agent leaning more towards your roots than our boys in blue.” He says this like its scripture; like it’s some holy conspiracy he’s just found evidence for. He wants you to plant words in your mouth and in this discussion so he can pluck the evidence from the ground and water it with fire.

You scoff hard, “I hardly ever wear blue when doing your job for you.”

“Was letting Omar Ramirez escape our job or just yours?”

Telling him the truth would mean losing all credibility, all titles, all trust in your work. You know what you’ve done and you don’t regret it. Ramirez was never the biggest fish and if you spun this right, then he was simply a fish who got his meal and promptly swam away. “You assume I let him go. What evidence tells you that?”

He ignores the question and instead asks another of his. “Why were your relations kept hidden from SHIELD and the FBI?”

“That’s a question for you know who.”

He shakes his head in disappointment. “You’re in a lot of trouble.”

“I bet I am. But this is not some precinct where you can get my team to turn on me so easily. And this is not a situation in which they’re lying for me. I trust that whatever the Captain has said is the answer to all your questions.”

“We’re gonna unravel this case. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

You’re suddenly overcome with a wave of sleepiness. These past two weeks have been exhausting even if you haven’t moved more than five feet from wall to wall. Having to repeat yourself to people who have already written the story for themselves is tiring. “I don’t know why you guys can’t just believe the words of myself and everyone vouching for me. We got you all the evidence. We have given you more names and connections that you’ll ever know what to do with. You don’t need to unravel anything; it’s all there! But because we weren’t able to arrest the one person you wanted, that being Ernesto, you go after me. You have White but I guess he’s not talking. And you’ll believe what you want to believe.”

“I trust my gut.”

“As simple as that, huh?” You sigh deeply and cross your arms over your chest. “You know, there’s a saying the late Agent Carter used to tell all SHIELD agents when they first started out and when they came back from missions. When she retired, it was Fury who then eased our minds.” 

Agent Kavert has a harsh line creasing through the middle of his forehead and he looks deeply interested. 

“There are three sides to every story,” you recite. “Your side, my side, and the truth.” A gentle shrug of the shoulders feels like all you’re allowed to give him. “I’m not lying to you but I’m not telling you the full truth either. Just my side.”

Agent Kavert shuts his eyes and bounces his left leg. He looks conflicted and unable to formulate a response at all. He’s shaking like he’s at war with himself or with the suits on the other side of the door, but no one has come knocking yet. “Let’s say I believe you. Just for a second.”

You nod. 

“Daniel Seda murders Vega at his own daughter’s wedding. We managed to catch Marcus White and because of fault entirely, Omar Ramirez gets away. Because from what I heard, Ramirez was working with you.” He paints the picture rather mundane, but you shoot him a smile that tells him he’s on the right track. “And you and all the other Avengers were blindsided by Ramirez. You gathered all the evidence you were told to gather, worked together and played your cards right, infiltrated one of the most secure estates in the country, and fucked up so badly that you managed to let two of your biggest giants die?”

“I really think you got it spot on.”

He laughs dryly, “But it still doesn’t make sense. Once Vega was gone and Seda survived, where would you have fallen in this tree?”

He wants to retract his question the moment he sees your face fall with such a sincerity he wasn’t ready for. “That’s just it, Agent Kavert. I would have fallen.”

“And the other two? How would business work? Would Daniel Seda have been the head of it now?”

“Your answers are in the evidence we gathered. I know you guys aren’t touching it because you think I’m compromised.”

He stands from the chair and dusts off his jacket. “Your side, my side, and the truth,” he repeats. He goes to open the door but you speak quickly before he can leave. 

“They think I infiltrated SHIELD, the Avengers, and am in bed with HYDRA because they’ve been helping Ernesto’s vision all along.” Agent Kavert stops and turns back to you. “I am a double agent whose identity was kept secret to aid this country and not raise suspicions from your part. I have seen a lot of things, have done things I’m not proud of, but I’ve done it all for a reason.”

Agent Kavert looks almost ashamed. Tone of voice: sincere.

“Me and my Captain saved lives, our own as well, and we stopped three of the most notorious drug-lords who have been at large since the eighties. We got your giants for you. And the truth is, I have discovered: through all my pain and experience... that it’s excellent to have a giant’s strength; but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant.”

Agent Kavert doesn’t know if you’re talking about Ernesto, the U.S Government, yourself, or him. His eyebrows pinch together and he slowly moves to leave the room.

    It’s another week before you’re visited by someone who isn’t bringing you food or extra toilet paper. You’re picking at your cuticles when the vents above your cell begin rattling with the obvious weight of a human being. You sit dumbly on the bed, straining your ears and trying hard not to laugh as each rattle is returned with a muffled curse. The vent on the ceiling right outside your cell drops to the concrete floor. 

Ernesto’s men wouldn’t go through all that trouble to kill you James Bond style. They would have just bribed a guard. So it’s a treat when the door swings open quickly and in comes a staggering Clint, keys in one hand and his phone in the other. The screen is illuminated, showcasing what looks to be blueprints. He’s got a bandaid over his left eyebrow and dust all over his clothes.

Your upper lip twitches into a silly smile. “You’re ridiculous if you thought you wouldn’t be heard in those damn vents.”

Clint makes a noise that sounds like he’s saying ‘maaaf’ and he plops down beside you on the cot. It’s absolutely hilarious he traveled in the vents and that the team approved this when in reality, they could have just sent Scott. “Just had to get past the first line of security. Plus, the blueprints said they were wider... I figure we’ve got a good three minutes before they check the cameras.”

It’s not the first time you sit in a cell with a time crunch. 

     The Raft is nothing special. They have you all separated by rank, meaning you were in the same vicinity as Clint, Sam, and Scott. Wanda was moved to a more secure location and you haven’t seen her since they brought you in. 

There isn’t much to do in a place like this. You tried counting how many strands of hair you had but gave up once you counted two hundred; you tried seeing if the others could hear you when you yelled out to them but the cells were soundproof; you even tried filing your nails against the uneven paint on the wall. It’s like they made life in these cells purposefully horrible - like you didn’t save the world a couple times over, c’mon. 

The camera fidgets over your head where you’re laying down and after a few seconds, it stops. The red light slowly fades and turns a bright yellow. You move to stand on the bed and reach for it, but a voice startles you from doing so. 

“Don’t mess with my magic!”

You topple over the single pillow you were given and fall flat on the bed, scrambling to shield yourself from whoever intruded. “Jesus!”

“Oh, I met him. Strange lad, didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

There’s a moment where you think you must be dreaming. His hair is longer and hits his shoulders and he’s added some blue and yellow to his usual attire. But other than that, he’s alive. Truly, brilliantly, really alive. 

“Loki, what the fuck?”

“Right!” Loki claps his hands and extends them outwards, smiling.  “Ta-da!”

A few beats pass. You blink a few times just in case you’re hallucinating. Barely a week in containment… 

“I’m sorry… I’m still trying to process the fact that you’re still alive!”

He scoffs low and goes to sit at the edge of the bed. “A God never truly dies, darling.”

“Well in Greek mythology-”

“Greek mythology and I have this unsettled beef that’s been going on for about five hundred years. Do not mention Greek mythology to me.”

“Excuse me, right, I should have known that was a sensitive topic.”

Loki swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and expels a laugh. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your restraint is gone and you lunge forward to envelope him in the tightest hug you’ve ever given anyone. He returns it, sighing into your shoulder and holding you close. You pull away just to stare at him, watching his features as they move ever so slightly. It’s really him. 

“I-” Loki tries but stutters. He’s studying you too and he almost looks sad. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Does Thor know?” Loki shakes his head at your question and winces when you smack his shoulder. “Loki, Thor has been grieving you for months!”

“I’m planning on it!” You don’t believe him. He goes to rub his shoulder. “Gods, I forgot you had excellent aim.”

You look back at the camera and find that the yellow light is still glowing, dim. Loki’s magic is blocking footage out or putting footage in, you really don’t know. But it’s allowing you a few moments with the man you thought you’d never see again. “Spontaneous reincarnation aside, what are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?”

“I’m on this planet for five-FIVE minutes, and the television has all these reports about you and everyone fighting each other?”

“Mm, right, right.”

Loki stares at you, amused. “... Care to explain?”

Your face contorts into a hundred different expressions until you finally settle on one of gentle guilt. “The person we were after was a friend of a friend. I made a judgement call and let him go.”

“You went against orders?”

“I went against the law.”

“Even better.”

With an eyebrow cocked, you give him a judging look. “Loki.”

His eyes crinkle from the intensity of his smile and you’ve missed him, you missed him so much. “That’s what I love about you. Barely starting out as an Avenger and you’re already realizing you can do more good in your own way.”

You groan quietly and rest your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you closer. “I mainly did it for Steve. Wasn’t like it was a big ‘fuck you’ to one-hundred and seventeen nations for the hell of it.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No.”

“Spoken like a true anti-hero.”

“You comparing me to yourself?”

Loki chuckles and runs his fingers through the strands of hair closest to your cheek. “Darling, I’m a God. No one comes close.” He sighs, serious again. “All I’m saying is that it’s refreshing to see the young break the rules.”

“I missed you,” you softly say. You can feel the nudge of his cheek turning upward against your head. 

“Always nice to hear.”

Rolling your eyes, you move to meet his gaze. “So, no reason why you came to visit me specifically?”

Loki takes one cautious look at the camera, to outside your cell, and back to you. “I too do things for your lovely Captain.” His smile grows wider. 

“What?”

He winks and tilts his head over to the giant metal doors that are starting to pry open. “See you in a minute.” 

The alarms begin blazing; there is fog filling the room, and Steve emerges from that fog with a winning smirk.

     You look over at Clint, half selfishly wishing he was Loki on another one of his midnight visits, and quickly do away with the thought. “So how’s life without me?”

“Oh, it’s great! The flowers are in bloom, the kitchen isn’t always a mess, and my bow and arrow aren’t misplaced because you wanted to have some fun with it,” he jokes, stretching far enough that his feet dig into your thigh like he’s trying to make more room for himself.  

“Not like it’s your only bow and arrow.”

He chuckles and sits up. He does a once over of the room and adjusts the frequency on his hearing aid. “They read you your rights at least?”

You wait to respond until he finishes fixing it. You speak and sign the words slowly,  “I don’t think any lawyer in America will want to take this case anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s a career killer.”

Trying to refrain from smiling around Clint was nearly impossible. You look to the door quickly, “Two minutes?”

He shoots up straighter as he watches your hands, “Right! So we’re currently tracking down your sister-”

“My sister?”

“Steve thinks she’s our only hope at clearing your name.”

“Why is that? I told her to get as far away as possible.”

Clint sighs and scratches the skin just above the bandaid. “She stayed in Mexico all those years you were gone. By all accounts, Ernesto adored her. Because of that, her influence might clear your name.”

“But she stayed. All the more reason to believe she was involved as well,” you say, shaking your head.

“She’s barely out of her teens. Everything that happened, happened when she was a minor. She has a first hand account of the abuse Ernesto caused you. And Steve thinks that the Julian fellow might even come clean and admit to the arranged marriage. Shows a pattern of abuse by Ernesto to his own children. Could spin it to make it seem like you had no other choice but to follow his orders.”

You follow his hands slowly, some signs difficult to read but you latch onto the gist of his argument. You groan and lean your head back on the wall with a small thump. “They go against Ernesto and they have targets on their backs. Even my other siblings who are still involved with all of this won’t let it go.”

“Y/N… Ernesto’s dead. You know that.”

“His influence isn’t.”

There’s minimal commotion a few doors down. Clint realizes it’s time to leave. “It might never be. But we don’t get to live in the future.” He stands with another small groan and stretches as he prepares to lift himself back into the vent. “We’re living now, and it’s all any of us can do.”

“Clint?” You also stand and have to wave in his peripheral to get his attention. He turns and knows what you’re about to say even without the hand gestures. “They won’t answer me when I ask.”

His lips pull into a perceptive smile, “He’s okay. Doing what he does best - blaming himself.”

“Oh, okay, good.”

He’s had enough practice reading your lips to notice the sarcasm that drips from them. He hurries to lift himself up. “We’ve got about a million tricks up our sleeve. If Jackeline’s word or the evidence isn’t enough, we’ve always got Fury and his blackmail.”

“Yeah, half the guys who interviewed me look like they cheat on their wives, so.”

He genuinely laughs and jumps high, muttering more to himself than to you. “Up we go…”

     The team locates Jackeline just a few days after your run-in with Clint. The building saw a triple rise in security but even then it didn’t prevent undercover agents passing all the checkpoints and sliding notes with your meals. They’d leave the tray, tip their hats, and smile like they knew the cameras wouldn’t suspect a thing. 

The first note is from Bucky, with the simple message of ‘I watched a few episodes of The Crown without you… I’m sorry.’

The second comes on the same day at dinner time, this one from Wanda. ‘I think Peter is trying to flirt with your sister.’

The third isn’t slipped through with any meal, but rather through the tiny opening beneath the door. ‘Surprised we did this the legal way this time! See you soon! - Rhodey’

The final one is actually hand delivered when several guards come in to tell you you’re free to go. They’re mumbling amongst themselves, cursing the system and the privileges Avengers always get, when the smallest of the five turns to you and hands you the note. ‘I owe you one. You owe me one. Who’s counting anymore? - Joaquin’

Jackeline had been able to track down Maribel and the two of them, with such accuracy in their stories and their timelines, constructed your defense perfectly. They showed them phone records, all of the recordings from that week, had proof that you never signed a thing, and made several special deals. Jackeline promised to reveal where bodies were buried, where business was dealt with, who else was involved with Ernesto and Seda. Maribel managed to get a message to them from Ramirez, which basically cleared you from the crime they were trying to stick. Ramirez was a damn good liar, you’ll give him that, and it made you the tiniest bit sad that you’d probably never see him again. 

The tipping point was when Steve turned himself in. There was no evidence that you did anything, never signed anything, never conspired behind your teammates backs. Fury made sure not to keep a paper or electronic trail. But there was evidence that implicated Steve - the contract. No matter how badly the FBI and CIA tried to make it go away, to absolve Steve from it, he didn’t back down. It was like the story they originally wanted toppled in on itself and it was actually Steve who forced you into all of this - playing your connections and forcing your hand. The contract hadn’t been voided, still hasn’t, and they really couldn’t risk another SHIELD fiasco. So it was destroyed to protect the Stars and Stripes, and in return they promised to let you go if you didn’t tell a soul. The image you’d come to despise, that tacky red, white and blue, is starting to grow on you.

‘Let me think about that and get back to you,’ you had joked. You think they let you go sooner because they feared the truth in your joke. 

But there wasn’t anything to think about, ever, still isn’t. Steve pulled another sacrifice play and you wanted to get out as soon as possible to kick his ass. 

You leave the prison with the same clothes you had on when you entered. They smell washed and you’re thankful they allowed you to shower before you left. You ignore the looks guards and prisoners aim at you, each trying to somehow get their hits in without actually pulling their punches. This would be a media disaster either way, didn’t matter the outcome of a supposed trial, and PR was most likely struggling to prepare their defense. 

You resist the embarrassing urge to run into his arms. He’s standing right outside the gates, leaning back on the passenger side of his rusty old blue pickup, positively glowing underneath the blazing sun. You’re blinded by it, skin thanking the dangerous rays for its first touch in weeks, but it only takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. He still hasn’t shaved and his hair is getting longer, and instead of his usual tucked-in dress shirt, he’s wearing a brown leather jacket over a faded graphic tee that reads AC/DC. It was Tony’s.

You’ve only got the broken burner phone and a hair tie in your possession; it’s what was on you when you were arrested. You drop the burner in a nearby trashcan and head on over to the truck. Steve’s wide smile buckles your knees and it damn near breaks your heart. Even when the two of you weren’t on speaking terms, you still saw each other at least twice a week. Going two weeks without seeing him feels like a lifetime. 

Once you're a few feet away, you stop in front of him. There are no immediate words you know to say, so you simply shrug your shoulders and give him a look that asks ‘What now?’

“Home.”

~

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

[calm-and-wine]

(I’ll give you) the best years

part V (masterlist, taglist)

hello, hope everyone is well and taking care of themselves! here is part 5 of best years, in case anyone needs a little escape. there will be one more part (more like an epilogue probably), but i’m not sure when it’ll be posted yet, because i do need to (and want to) write my one shot for the quarantine challenge. it will definitely happen though. anyway, hope you enjoy this one and i’d love to hear your thoughts!

PART V

 November 2025

 Life without tennis was weird, that was the conclusion Lucy arrived to after two months since her retirement. It wasn’t necessarily bad, just very different. She didn’t regret her decision, not at all, but it’ll take some to get used to that new situation. She spent a bit over a week in LA while the band was doing promo, then went away for a week, just her and Niall, back in Maui, celebrating their wedding anniversary and whatever the future had in store for them. That was good, quite normal, but coming back and not going back to training was not normal. Not having to wake up early was not normal. Not having to pay attention to her food or being able to drink alcohol as freely as she wanted was not normal. Well, it was her new normal and she should probably start getting used to it.

 It wasn’t like she didn’t have anything else to do. She went to see her parents and stayed with them for a week. She had been making moves on starting the management to help young tennis players, attending meeting after meeting, trying to be as involved as her knowledge allowed her to, all the pieces slowly but steadily falling into place.

 Her life hadn’t necessarily slowed down, it just took a different course. And in the middle of it all, her and Niall also started looking at houses. Their friends said it was crazy, them running around, from meetings and Niall’s rehearsals with the band, hurrying to not be late to meet with their estate agent. Lucy was actually more tired than she was while playing. But she wasn’t complaining. Because no matter how chaotic the days were, in the end, it was always her and Niall, under the same roof, in the same bed, together.

 Even though they were both busy, they were about to be even busier. Well, Niall mostly. With the band’s first album after reunion being released in just over a week and a world tour starting in January, he definitely won’t be complaining about too much free time on his hands.

 They just got home from looking at yet another house (fourth this week), going straight to the kitchen, with Lucy starting to heat up dinner she prepped earlier, while Niall put a kettle on for some tea. Even though they hadn’t spent a ton of time together at home, especially considering how long they had been in a relationship, they had no problem falling into step with each other.

 “So, what did you think?” he asked, stepping behind her and putting a hand on the small of her back while reaching up beside her head to pull out two mugs from the cupboard. Because they drove separate cars, coming from different locations, they hadn’t even had a chance to talk properly.

 “Um… It was alright, I liked the exterior, it’s very well-kept. Big garden, which is nice,” Lucy said, turning slightly to follow Niall’s moves.

 “What about the inside?” he asked.

 She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’d need some renovation.”

 He sighed, passing her a steaming cup, knowing she liked her tea almost scolding hot. She took it with a smile, also noticing he chose her favourite mug. “How come there are no good houses in London?”

 “I know, right? I did not expect it to be that hard to find a nice home.” Because Niall was close enough, she took half a step and rested her forehead on his shoulder, him instantly putting an arm around her to rub her back.

 “Could you see us in any that we’ve seen?” he asked after planting a sweet kiss on her hairline.

 “I like the one we saw yesterday,” she said, raising her head, but staying pressed to his body. “It needs a lot of work, but it has good structure. It was finished terribly, we would have to change the floors probably, maybe take down a wall or two…”

 “That’s probably doable though, right?”

 “Did you like it?” she asked. It obviously needed to be a mutual decision, even if they may not stay in that house forever.

 “Yeah, I did,” he assured. “It has everything we wanted, just needs some work, but at least we wouldn’t have to rebuild it. And I liked the location a lot.”

 “Me too.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, her mouth going into the kiss. “Should we arrange for a contractor to take a look? See if it’d all be possible to do?”

 “Mmm, yeah,” he agreed, planting another kiss on her lips. “I know it’s not perfect, but I’d say we try, I think we’ll feel different once we’re done with it.”

 “I was never a big fan of perfect anyway,” she shrugged.

 “In everything except your husband, obviously,” Niall pointed out.

 Lucy laughed. “Oh, that especially, I settled.”

 He looked at her offended, pinching her waist, which earned a yelp from her, instantly squirming in his hold. But he held her tightly, finding her lips for yet another kiss, both their faces lighting up with grins. They truly did not need a perfect house, because they already found the perfect home in each other.

 ~~

 The album was out. One Direction was officially back and everyone was loving it. The guys were special guests at the morning radio show, then did a few more interviews before arriving at the venue for their special show. It was their first proper show, only performing the singles on tv or radio before. But tonight was a ‘one night only’, when they would play the new album in its entirety, as well as their biggest hits, obviously. 

 Lucy, Maya and Ines met up at the venue, waiting for their guys to arrive. Eleanor was coming later with Freddie, everyone’s families and friends were going to be there as well. It was a big day and the buzz was evident in the air. When the band finally arrived, everyone could tell they were scared about the upcoming show. But there were also huge smiles on their faces and excitement coursing through their veins. They just hadn’t done it all in a while. 

 They all sat down to have dinner together, talking about their day, the amazing reaction the album got and everything in between. It was truly heartwarming to see them back together and happy like that. 

 Soon after, the guys had to go to soundcheck, the girls standing up, ready to join them, all except Lucy.

 “Are you not coming?” Maya asked, looking at her surprised.

 “Nope, this one is banned,” Niall replied before Lucy could utter a word, throwing an arm around her and squeezing her shoulder with a wicked smile on his face.

 “Why?” Harry asked, looking at the couple with intrigue.

 “Well, I’ve actually never seen your show, so he wants me to watch it properly,” she explained.

 “No spoilers,” Niall smiled, proud of himself.

 “You’ve seriously never been to our show?” Liam asked incredulously, to which Lucy shook her head. “Have you been living under a rock?” he snickered, genuinely surprised. Judging from the amount of people who used to come to their shows, they kind of thought most people have seen them perform at some point.

 “Nope, just travelling the world, being one of the top tennis players, you know, the usual,” she replied with a laugh.

 “Well, it might be for the better that you haven’t seen us in our golden years,” started Louis, “at least you’ll be less disappointed tonight.”

 “Oh come off it, you’re gonna be amazing,” Ines chastened him, hitting his arm playfully. 

 “Yeah, yeah.”

 “Okay, lads, we need to go,” said Harry, trying to rush the boys, knowing their team was waiting.

 “I’m actually gonna stay too,” Ines said, when he reached for her hand.

 “Me too,” joined Maya. “It’ll be fun watching the show with a fresh mind.”

 “Well okay then, we’ll be extra sexy during soundcheck, so you’ll be missing a lot,” Harry said playfully, which earned him a few laughs.

 Each couple shared a kiss and hugs, with Louis making whiny noises behind them, because Eleanor wasn’t there yet, before the guys finally left.

 Lucy loved hanging out with the girls. They were all very different, but still got along well, having this amazing thing connecting them. It was the same with the boys, all four of them with very different personalities, but forming a bond as strong as true brotherhood. It was the type of relationship you wouldn’t understand if you weren’t a part of.

 She had fun hanging backstage, she always enjoyed those moments, everyone buzzing with excitement, talking, relaxing before going out there, and sharing it with the band, the atmosphere was even better. It was like a family.

 After sending Niall off with one last kiss and an unneeded ‘good luck’, Lucy went out into the crowd. All the women decided to watch the show from the stands, only choosing side stage for the last few songs, so they could hug their men right after.

 Watching Niall on stage has always been an incredible experience, making Lucy not only smile, but her heart fill with warmth, love and admiration. But seeing Niall on stage with his three brothers was another level. It was so easy to see just how much love those four guys had for each other, for what they were doing together. And the crowd… She had been to many of Niall’s shows, but she’s never seen or heard a crowd like that. That loud, that passionate. It was breathtaking. And knowing not only how hard the guys worked for it, but especially how much it all meant to them, made it even more awestracking. If she felt like that standing on the sidelines, she couldn’t even imagine how it must feel for the four men on stage. 

 Lucy knew Niall loved watching her play. And she felt like she truly understood why. How proud he always felt. Because seeing him up there on stage, she felt exactly the same way. There was nothing better than watching the person you loved doing the thing they loved. 

April 2026

 Niall was finally home. Sure, it’s only been 11 days since Lucy left the band’s tour and flew back home to take care of some businesses, meet with the few players her management was considering signing and oversee the renovation of their house. She spent over two months by Niall’s side, travelling through America and watching him perform night after night. And even after that time, she hadn’t gotten bored with seeing him on stage. She probably never would, just like he’d never get tired of performing.

 Having just over two weeks together at home came at the perfect time. Not only because there were a few things that needed to be done in London, but mostly considering the conversation she had to have with her husband. A conversation that required a certain level of privacy, which was quite hard to find while almost constantly being surrounded by people on tour.

 She occupied her time waiting with cooking dinner, his favourite of course, but her mind and stomach were turning, both with uncertainty of the upcoming conversation and excitement of seeing Niall again. But the sound of their gate opening brought her back to earth, making her instantly turn off the stove and leave the kitchen to properly welcome her husband.

 She got outside just as Niall was grabbing his suitcase, so she ran up to him and threw her arms around his body, which was as familiar to her as her own, if not more. He saw her coming, having managed to close the boot of the car and open his arms just in time to catch her. At that moment she was so carefree, running wild just because she missed him, not caring about what the driver might think or how it might look, just happy to have her love home.

 “Hi,” he said joyfully, moving his hand from her waist to cup her cheek and leaning down for a kiss. 

 “Welcome home,” she said before going in for a second kiss. They were both aware that they were stood in their driveway and not exactly alone, so they refrained from making out like teenagers.

  “Thanks, John, see you soon!” Niall said over his shoulder to his driver, grabbing his suitcase in one hand, the other wrapping around Lucy and leading them into the house.

 As soon as they were inside and the door was closed, his mouth was back on her. 

 “Niall,” she laughed, when after a minute he moved to her neck, “I made dinner.”

 “Not hungry,” he said hurriedly, like he wanted to spend as little time without the contact of her skin as possible.

 “But,” Lucy started, which made Niall pull away slightly, putting his hand on the back of her neck making their eyes meet. It was like that look made her grounded again, all the worries, stress, all the different scenarios she made up in her head, none of that mattered. He always had this amazing gift of making everything else disappear. Like it was just them two, at that very moment, their feelings the only thing that mattered. “I guess the dinner can wait,” she agreed, marking her words with a playful tag at his hair.

 “Missed you, love,” he said with a wicked smile, before raising her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to hold tight, and carrying her upstairs to show her just how much he really missed her. 

 ~~

 They were enjoying the peace and quiet after dinner, cuddled on the couch, an old rerun of the show they’ve seen already humming in the background while they chatted a bit, sharing the things that happened the last couple of days, even though they already knew the majority through their phone calls. The company of their spouse always brought a level of comfort, no matter where they were, but when they were together at home, there truly was nothing better. 

 Lucy turned her head slightly to check if Niall hadn’t drifted off to sleep during the lull in their talks and when he looked back at her with the softest smile, the one reserved only for her, she said what’s been on her mind for the past three days. 

 “I might be pregnant.”

 Her statement made Niall sit up, turning his body to face her properly, his hands grabbing hers to make sure her attention is all focused on him.

 “How sure are you?” he asked softly, his voice level, oozing nothing but calmness.

 “Um… Not really, I’m late, but I haven’t taken any tests.”

 He let go of one of her hands to rake a hand through his hair. “Shit, okay, should we go get some now?”

 She bit her lip nervously. “There are three waiting in the bathroom upstairs.”

 He looked at her carefully, trying to decipher how she felt about it all, but he could only see the slightly shake to her hands and a soft smile gracing her lips, which was a bit contradictory, but in a way he felt like he understood her mood perfectly, a balance between very nervous and excited.

 “Shall we go now, then?” he asked carefully. 

 “Yeah,” she said getting up, Niall halting her for a second before she could walk away, their lips meeting in a very reassuring kiss, before leading her upstairs with a hand on the small of her back.

 Lucy had three different tests she bought the day before tucked away in a medicine cabinet, waiting for Niall to get home, because it didn’t feel right to check on her own. She went into the bathroom, her husband walking circles around their bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. She picked all three tests up, read the instructions carefully before peeing on the sticks, laying them all on the sink and rejoining Niall in the room to not wait alone.

 “Hey, you’re alright, yeah?” he asked, coming right up to her and grabbing her shoulders, massaging them slightly.

 “Yes,” she said, stepping closer to hug him, needing the safety of his arms. “I didn’t expect it, but whatever happens, it’s okay. I mean we want kids anyway and maybe it isn’t the best time and we didn’t really plan it, but we’re ready, right?”

 He smiled at her, reaching up to tuck a stray of hair behind her ear. “I think so, yes.”

 They took a minute embracing each other, both holding the other tightly, both having this epiphany that their lives might be changed in a matter of minutes. There were some soft kisses shared, loving words of reassurance whispered, before Lucy’s alarm ringed out, Niall squeezing her one more time before wrapping an arm around her waist, their bodies colliding as he led them into the bathroom to see the results.

 “You look,” she said, burying her head into his shoulder, trying to take deep breaths and stay calm. She wasn’t afraid of being pregnant. Sure it would change a lot, a kid would probably turn their lives upside down. But it wasn’t like they never talked about it, they both wanted kids, they wanted kids together. She loved Niall, he was her forever, there was no trace of doubt about that in her mind. But it was still scary.

 “Hey, look at me,” Niall said after a minute, his calloused fingers cupping both her cheeks. When she looked into his eyes, she could see them begin to glisten. “They’re all positive.”

 Before she could say anything, a huge smile broke into her face, Niall’s face instantly mirroring hers. “We’re gonna be parents,” she whispered, as it was some kind of secret only they knew, like she didn’t want to share it with anyone else, it was only for Lucy and Niall.

 “We’re gonna be parents,” he whispered back, resting his forehead against hers, before pulling her impossibly close, his lips finding hers, the kiss soft and urgent at the same time. 

 When he pulled away after quite a few more kisses, he grabbed her by the waist, lifting her and swung her around the bathroom, the biggest smile on his face, a laugh escaping his lips, she was also pretty sure she caught a tear running down his cheek. She had her doubts, she had to admit that, but she was also incredibly happy. Niall felt like her home for the longest time, but now they’d be a proper family. They were growing, they were making even more plans together, it was all evolving, growing, especially the love. She didn’t think it was possible, but it truly felt like the love they shared only grew and grew and all she could hope for was that it would never stop.

 ~~

 As Lucy slowly came into consciousness, the sun trying to seep into the room through the curtains, as soon as her eyes cracked open, she saw Niall. It was the best feeling to wake up and feel his body connected with hers, even if it was just their feet tangled together. But it was a rare sight to wake up and see her husband already awake. But this morning he was just that, lying on his side, an arm curled under his head, watching her.

 “What time is it?” Lucy asked, rubbing her eyes, voice groggy from sleep.

 “Don’t know,” Niall replied shrugging, his eyes not leaving her face.

 “How long have you been awake?” She turned on her side to face him properly, her hand setting on his bare torso.

 “Don’t know.” He reached his hand to push back the hair falling onto her face, before lifting his head to plant a good morning peck on her lips.

 She looked at him with furrowed brows, his behaviour a bit unusual. “Do you know anything? Have you not looked at the clock?” It wasn’t like him to wake up before her but it was even more unlike him to not check his phone right after.

 “Nope.” His face was lit up by a content smile, his hand travelling from her cheek to her waist to pull her closer.

 “Why not?” she asked, eager to get some answers, see what was going on inside his head.

 “Why would I?” He threw the question back at her. “It doesn’t matter, we don’t have anywhere to be today. Why would I waste time looking at the time when I have such a beautiful angel to admire beside me?”

 Even though the room wasn’t entirely bright, the curtains keeping the sun out for the most part, she could easily see the love in his eyes. 

 “What got you all soppy this morning?” she laughed, feeling her cheeks warming up at his words.

 “You get me soppy all the time, it’s your magic ability.” He moved even closer, wrapping his entire body around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

 “I missed this,” she admitted, pushing her fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing better than waking up together.”

 He hummed, his hands gently roaming over her body before setting underneath her t-shirt (or rather, his), right on her belly. Her heart skipped a beat. Niall planted a kiss on her neck, before pulling away to press their foreheads together, looking not only into her eyes, but straight into her soul. Lucy could feel her eyes starting to glisten, and who knows, maybe it was the hormones, there were definitely many emotions filling her, the strongest of them all being love.

 “We’re really gonna have a baby soon,” Niall whispered, cupping her cheek, ready to catch any tear that might escape.

 “Yeah,” she managed to say, before he leaped in to kiss her, wanting to show her just how happy he was, how in awe and in love he was, how grateful he was for her. 

 “You’re okay with that, right? Having a kid now?” he asked after a minute, his voice laced with the slightest hint of insecurity. They talked about it last night, but he wanted to check in again, after some of the emotions died down.

 Just looking at him, concerned about her and her feelings, made her heart soar and a smile graced her lips. “Of course I am. It’s unexpected, sure, but I’d say we’re in a pretty good place, maybe it’s not ideal timing, but it’s not terrible either.” She propped her head on her shoulder to get a better look at Niall, making sure he not only heard her, but also knew she meant every word. “I’m happy. We’ve known for a while we wanted children, so we might as well start now, right? We’re having a baby, of course I’m happy. Pretty scared, but happy.”

 “I feel like the happiest man, honestly. You always make me the happiest.” He grinned so much this morning, his cheeks would probably start aching before the clock even hit noon.

 “Do you think we’ll be alright as parents?” she asked, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers.

 “Well, I have no doubt you’re gonna be the best mum. And I’d like to think I’m gonna be an alright dad.”

 “You’ve always been amazing with kids.”

 “Yeah, but it’s a bit different with your own, right?” He shrugged before moving onto his back and looking at the ceiling, like it could hold some answers. “I think you might have to be the strict parent most of the time. I’m too soft for those kinds of things.”

 Lucy chuckled, leaning up and over him. “We’ll figure it out,” she assured. “I need to call my doctor and actually get an appointment first.”

 “You’re still coming with us to Europe, right?” He asked, looking up at her hopefully.

 “Yeah, it should be okay, right? We’ll ask the doctor, but I think so. We need to get the house done though. Especially now.”

 “Don’t worry about it, we’ll make it. Everything will be alright and if not, we’ll figure it out.”

 She went in for another kiss, before settling down onto his chest. “I love you.”

 “And I love you.” He moved his hand around to her belly and looked down. “And you little bean.”

July 2026

 “You can see my belly, can’t you?” Lucy asked, turning every which way in front of the mirror. 

 Niall glanced at her from his place on the bed, looking away from the emails he’s been responding to and taking in his wife. She had a pretty summer dress on, the mixture of elegant and cute, looking as beautiful as ever. But he felt like he was on thin ice, because yes, he could easily make out a small baby bump beneath the material, but he was more than familiar with her body and was pretty sure this was not the response Lucy wanted to hear.

 “Well… Yeah, but that’s just because I know it’s there,” he said, gesticulating to her stomach.

 She huffed irritatedly, clearly not happy with his answer. “I don’t have anything to wear, then.”

 Niall sighed (but not loudly enough for her to hear), closing his laptop and going to stand behind his wife, grabbing her hand to pull her close. “You look beautiful, love. And if someone can spot your bump, so what?” He knew Lucy wasn’t feeling great lately. Her belly started growing and as much as he thought that made her even more sexy, she didn’t feel perfectly comfortable with it yet, so used to the way her body had been pretty much the same for years. The fact that she had been feeling like shit, growing tired way too soon and morning sickness lasting almost all day, did not help.

 “It’ll probably make tens of articles pop up speculating,” she reasoned, wrapping her arms around his neck.

 He shrugged, clearly unbothered. “I say, let them. Fuck it, you know? It’s ours, yeah, but we can’t keep it on the downlow forever, so we should just do whatever we want to. And not care. You are pregnant, so why hide it?”

 She bit her lip, taking a moment to think through his words. “Are you sure I look alright?” she asked again. “There will be a lot of people. And pictures.”

 “You look stunning, Lulu,” he assured, marking his words with a kiss. “Like always, but even more. You’re glowing and I’m loving it.”

 “I do not feel glowing,” she huffed.

 He looked at her with concern. The doctor said it was all normal, some women feeling better, some worse, so technically there was no cause for concern, but he still worried, especially knowing that she was happy with the pregnancy, but couldn’t actually enjoy it, because it was not being easy on her. Having her on tour with him was good and bad at the same time, he was glad he could keep an eye on her, but it was hard seeing her struggle, especially all the travelling taking its toll on her. She assured him she was fine, time and time again, being an absolute champ about it all, which of course she was. But he was a husband, it was his job to worry.

 “Are you sure you’ll be okay today? How’s the sickness?” he asked, holding her steady by the waist and taking a step back to look at her properly, almost like he was trying to assess her state, even though there were no clear symptoms.

 “Not awful, but not the best either,” Lucy admitted, having trouble to even remember when was the last time she actually felt good. She took his hands and wrapped them tight around her waist, stepping closer to him once again. “You’ll be by my side, so I’ll be alright.”

 He sighed, knowing there was no point in discussing it further. He did plan to make her ginger tea in a travel mug, so she could drink it on their way, hopefully calming some of her nausea, because that was pretty much all he could do to help her. “Are you excited?” he asked, changing the subject. They were going to watch the women's final at Wimbledon, with Lucy not only being invited, but also asked to take part in the trophy ceremony. It was a great honour, he understood that, of course he did, but just a little part of him wished she would take it easy. Stay home if she didn’t feel great. Especially because he knew she was stressed out about it. Not only about how she looked, despite all the questions she just asked, that was probably the least of her concern. She didn’t like being in public like that. Maybe she wouldn’t be the centre of attention, but she’d still be under the spotlight. She worried about making a mistake, having thousands of eyes on her, all the comments that might come after. She knew how to play on a tennis court, not hand trophies.

 “Yeah. Really excited,” Lucy said, a smile taking over her face. “A little stressed, especially since I could technically feel the urge to throw up at any minute.” Niall was about to say something, probably along the lines of her canceling, so she pressed her palm against his mouth to shut him up. “But it should be fine. I’m really hoping Naomi will win, she deserves it so much.”

 She didn’t just say it because she had beaten Naomi last year, but as a friend and a fellow player. They already made plans to meet up for lunch on Monday for a little catch up.

 “Oh, I forgot to tell you, they asked us to come in on Wednesday to see the house, they need some decisions regarding the living room, I think.” Lucy said, after Niall finally went into their wardrobe to change. She was just about to hurry him, not wanting to be late and knowing the traffic will probably be awful.

 “Do you have any other plans on Wednesday?” he asked, coming back into the room, dress pants on and starting to button a light blue shirt.

 “There might be a meeting regarding the sporting centre, I’m not sure yet. But if I’m busy you’ll handle it, right?” Lucy asked, not even trying to hide the fact that she was ogling her husband’s naked chest. Damn, she loved his body. And his heart and soul, but his body… It made her crazy, especially now when her hormones were all over the place.

 “Yeah, of course,” he said right away, knowing Lucy was actually the one making sure everything was on track with their house, so he could take some of that load now that he was home for three weeks.

 “And I might not be coming out for that last leg of your tour.” She said, finally turning around and going to put finishing touches on her makeup. 

 “Wait, what? Why?” Niall asked, stopping his movements to look at her.

 “Just…. The house is gonna be a shit show next month, with most of the general work being finished, the furniture and equipment starting to arrive, the other crew coming in… We can’t ask Mia and Nat to keep an eye on it all the time.” She didn’t turn around, didn’t even raise her eyes to look at him through the mirror, because she didn’t want to see his expression. Seeing the disappointment on his face might just make her cry. And she spent way too much time trying to make her eyes look decent with makeup to destroy it now. “Plus there’s been talk of some more meetings, getting the ball really rolling for the centre… And it might be good for me to slow down for a bit. Especially all the travelling. I haven’t decided yet, maybe I’ll come down for Australia.”

 “Oh okay. I mean…” he sighed, his hand going up to his hair and stopping at the very last second when he remembered it was already styled. “Yeah, it might be good for you to chill for a minute. But I’ll hate not seeing you for weeks again. And I don’t like the prospect of leaving you alone with it all.”

 Lucy finished applying her lipstick before finally turning around, his eyes already trained on her, a weak smile on his face. Niall didn’t mean to make her feel bad or guilty, that was never the case, but he also wanted to be honest. And she knew he was coming from a good place, always.

 “I’m a big girl, I’ll be fine,” she said, coming up to him and cupping his cheeks, making a move to plant a kiss on his lips, but pulling away a second before their lips met, not wanting to put lipstick on him, which made him whine and her let out a little laugh. “It’s just a few weeks. And then you’ll be home. And I’ll be here. And we’ll be moving while also preparing for the baby, so that will probably be a shitshow, but hey, at least we’re in this together.”

 He smiled, kissing her cheek. Then the other. And then her neck, making her giggle. “‘Course we are. Always.”

October 2026

 Putting finishing touches and getting ready to move houses while being seven months pregnant was not ideal. Thankfully they were both home now, after Lucy flew to Australia for the last shows of One Direction’s first tour back, they came back two weeks ago, after spending a few days longer, just relaxing, on the other side of the world.

 All of this made Lucy stressed, her pregnancy made her uncomfortable most of the time and the impending arrival of the baby made her feel unprepared, no matter how many books and blog posts she had read. Because of that, it was no surprise to Niall that she wanted a quiet birthday. Lucy was never a fan of huge parties, especially the ones thrown in her honour. He proposed going away to their getaway house in Ireland, but she had insisted there were too many things to be done and overseen here, so he didn’t push, not wanting to make her even more stressed or upset. He did however make sure she hadn’t done anything unnecessary that day. Bringing her waffles and tea to bed in the morning, staying wrapped up in each other until midday, spending the next few hours cocooned on the couch, talking and watching tv, catching up on the lost time while they were apart. 

 However, when it was nearing the evening, he did ask her to get ready, saying he had something special planned. 

 “If you threw me a party, I’ll kill you,” she said while walking down the stairs, ready to go out. She knew it wasn’t dinner, because they had eaten not too long ago, Niall cooking her favourite of his while she admired him at work from the kitchen counter. He just chuckled, refusing to give her any hints.

 But he did throw her a surprise party. Well, maybe not necessarily a party, more like a gathering. He got all of 1D with their better halves, their friends, her parents, Mia and Natalia, his own parents, even few of the people she’s been working closely with at the tennis management. The place wasn’t too crowded, filled with people she knew and appreciated. The music wasn’t too loud, you could easily have a conversation without screaming at each other. There was a bar, but not a proper dancefloor, just a little free space in case anyone wanted to bust a move, which eventually they did. 

 It was special, a perfect night to finish off the perfect day, the gesture making her cry more than once (which was fine, because at least she could blame it on the hormones). She trusted Niall completely and moments like those just proved how he truly knew her, giving her the perfect balance of what she wanted and what he knew she’d enjoy. 

 But now it was nearing 5am and she was lying awake, over half an hour since she woke up. She was uncomfortable. Huffing and throwing away the comforter because she was too hot, then growing cold mere minutes later. Not even her pregnancy pillow brought her any comfort tonight. She was just about to try getting up, when Niall stirred besides her, his eyes cracking open and his hand going to rub at her back as soon as he noticed she wasn’t asleep.

 “Everything alright?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

 “Yeah, I couldn’t settle comfortably and now I’m wide awake,” she explained.

 Niall hummed, looking at her in the darkness, her eyes tired, brows furrowed. He could see she was stressed or anxious, like she had been most of the time lately. It made him worried. He tried his best to take as much burden off her as he could, especially now he was home. 

 “I’ll go make some tea and then give you a message, hmm, how’s that sound?” he asked, bumping her nose cutely.

 “I’ll go with you,” she said, throwing the comforter off her body already. 

 “No, you relax, you’ve been on your feet half the night, you should rest.”

 “I need to stretch, I’m too uncomfortable now,” she reasoned, which made him give up easily, ready to help her up right away.

 They went downstairs holding hands, because that’s just how they usually walked, him not really letting her do anything beside walking around the kitchen to stretch her limbs, before going back to bed, Niall refusing to even let her carry a cup.

 “I know you’re tired because of the house and the pregnancy hasn’t exactly been easy on you, but there’s something else also troubling you, I can tell,” he said, as soon as they were settled into bed, Lucy propped against the headboard, while he sat cross legged in the middle, facing her.

 When he woke up, she didn’t expect him to stay up with her. They went to sleep just a few hours before. Sure, he only had two beers last night, saying he was gonna keep her company in the sober club, even though she insisted she was fine with him having some drinks. So he wasn’t even buzzed anymore, but it was 5 am, he must have been tired. And yet, he was ready to stay up with her, have tea and an actual conversation, just because she couldn’t sleep. That was love, gestures like those only made her appreciate him more and more.

 “It’s just a lot, I don’t know,” she shrugged, not really sure how to even explain her feelings. “I’m anxious about the baby, I wish we were done with the house already and… I just… I don’t know what to do with the training centre.”

 “Well, the house is almost ready and I’m back now, I can handle most of it. Especially the packing, you’ll just sit and give me orders and I’ll get it all done, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. It’s not good for you nor our little bub,” he marked his words with a gentle hand rubbing her swollen stomach. “And what’s up with the centre? You’ve been having quite a few meetings about it lately, yeah?”

 “Yes and if I was going to pull out, I’d need to do it now.”

 He sat up a bit straighter, looking at her confused. “Wait, why the hell would you pull out? I thought you were excited about it.”

 “I was, yeah, but…” Lucy huffed, playing with a loose thread in the comforter. “Just how will it work? I was hoping to get it done at the end of this year or the start of the new at the latest, but with a kid.. I don't know, I can't do it all.”

 “Hey, it’s alright,” he scooted closer, noticing she was starting to get upset and placing a calming hand on her knee. “You’re not alone in it, love. I’m here,” he assured with a small smile. “And I know I’ve been busy, touring and all, but I’m home now. I’m here for you, we’re in this together, yeah? You’re never alone with anything.”

 “Maybe i should just postpone it. Wait a year or something.” She shrugged again, looking down, her eyes unfocused.

 He licked his lips, thinking of the best response. “You can if you want to. But if not, we can make it work now.”

 Lucy finally raised her head, meeting Niall’s eyes, the look he was giving her nothing but gentle. “I’m just scared that if i put it off now, it’ll never happen,” she admitted. “Because then it’ll probably be another kid, I really doubt we’re gonna be done with one, and just… it’ll fade away.”

 “No, I won't let it, love,” he was quick to assure her, grabbing her hands in his and squeezing. “I know you want it. And if you want it now, we’ll make it happen. Or if you want to wait half a year, or less or more, you’ll do it then. But I’ll make sure it’ll happen for you.”

 Lucy’s lip started wobbling and tears began streaming down her cheeks. Niall reached to wipe them right away, letting go of one of her hands, but still holding the other.

 When she calmed down, he asked, “Tell me how do you see it anyway? I know you want to be involved in it, not just set it up, but do you want to just generally oversee it or train someone or… I don’t know.”

 “Umm… I think oversee mostly,” she said. “Pop in to see how everything’s going. Talk to people, trainers, players… everyone. Conduct training from time to time, but not really regularly. Taking on a player would be too much for me.”

 “Well, couldn’t you do it now?” he asked, giving her a look of confidence. He was always the one who brought her courage when her own ran out. “Like, even soon after our little bug is born, you’d be gone for a couple of hours tops, not everyday,” he explained. “I think it’d be alright. Might even be good for you.”

 “What about the band? Aren’t you planning another album? Another tour?” She asked, not exactly sold on the idea. It was something she’s been turning over in her head, trying to come up with a perfect plan, but she wasn’t sure it existed.

 He shook his head. “There’s gonna be a little version of us both super soon and you expect me to leave for months upon months? No chance.” She chuckles, hitting his arm lightly to make him be serious. “There are plans, yes, we for sure want to continue, but not right away. I mean, we’ll probably pop into the studio from time to time, but no schedule, we just want to relax right now. Put our families first. We’re having a baby. It’s technically a secret, but El’s pregnant as well. Harry is getting engaged…”

 Lucy squeaked in excitement at all those news. “What? El’s having a baby? That’s amazing. And Harry! Finally! Did he get a ring?”

 Niall grinned, finally seeing his wife happy and excited making him feel a bit lighter. “Yeah, showed us like a month ago, fingers crossed he’ll actually man up and pop the question.”

 She giggled. “That’s crazy. Maya has told me that she and Liam had talked about trying for a little one as well. Ahh can you imagine our kids being so close in age?”

 His face matched her grin. “They’d be best friends.”

 “Definitely.”

 “But, to get back on topic, I’ll be staying put for the foreseeable future. Ready to take care of you and our bug and everything. So do your thing, don’t be scared, please. You know we’ll work it out.” He moved to his knees to get close enough to plant a gentle kiss on her lips.

 “Thank you.”

 “You don’t have to thank me, love. I’m your husband, no thank yous needed.” 

 “Yeah, but I still want to thank you,” she marked her words with another kiss. “For being the best husband and the best teammate ever.”

 “You don’t have a lot of experience with teammates though, right?” Niall pointed out with a chuckle. “With tennis being an individual sport and all…”

“Yeah yeah, alright, here’s my trying to be nice and you ruining it. Just like always.”

 He laughed, wrapping his arms around her body and bringing her flush to him. “I love our little team of three.” 

 Lucy went in for yet another kiss, having to agree with him.

taglist: @stylishmuser @verorax @georgiahoranxx @exoticniall @awomanindeniall​ @soullikestyles​ @bopbopstyles​

[philipholt]

Looking back on Software Development in 2020 and forward to 2021

I think we can all agree 2020 sucked. Hopefully 2021 will be better.

I've been a remote worker for 13 years by choice but in 2020 I HAD TO DO IT because, well, most programmers and tech workers did. I wrote about how Remote work != Quarantine Work while our whole division and then the whole company moved back home! We were a fairly remote-friendly company before but I have to admit I didn't always think my coworkers had really deep empathy for the remote...until they, too, were forced to be remote.

Last week on the podcast, I got to speak with Amanda Silver. She's a CVP in the Microsoft Developer Division who has been coding and thinking deeply about coding for many years. She's leading the creation of tools like Visual Studio, Visual Code, Live Share, Code Spaces, IntelliCode, and other collaborative productivity products. She's always thinking about what coding will look like in 1, 5, and even 10+ years.

We talked about her thoughts on moving the division remote and whether it would slow us down. Would it change how we develop software? What about when everyone comes back? After talking to her about her thoughts on 2020 and where she thinks we're heading, I got to thinking myself and wanted to put those thoughts down.

2020 broke everything, and developers like to fix things

Somewhere in the spring as we started into lockdown, developers started making sites. Sites to track COVID, GitHub projects with scripts to scrape data and analyze it. Javascripters started making D3.js visualizations and codepen users started building on top of them. Bots on twitter would tweet out updates and parse new data.

When there's a problem - especially a scary or untenable one - developers run towards the challenge. Necessity breeds invention and 2020 was definitely a year where we were collectively reminded there was a bunch of stuff that was always possible, but we needed a push. Cameras and mics were upgraded, ring lights were purchased, home networks got fancier, and everyone who could called their ISP and got an upgraded plan. We could have done all this before, but why? Remote work happened for the first time in 2020, and I say that having worked remotely forever.

We HAVE to collaborate remotely now

Back in 2010 I spoke to PhDs at Microsoft Research about how people feel when they are remote and what they can do to be more connected. Ten years! Folks thought it was pretty "out there" but I sure needed my virtual cubicle buddy this year.

2020 accelerated what was possible with remote collaboration. I spent hours coding with Live Share, pushing text and coding context over the wire, not a ridiculous 4k worth of pixels. Having two cursors (mine and my friends) - or even 10! - in one Visual Studio seemed like magic. Even more magic is me pressing F5 and my coworker hitting their localhost and seeing our app running! We needed tech like this more than ever in 2020.

I heard one story where a company sent everyone home but folks had disparate desktops and laptops so they set up 100s of Virtual Desktops over a weekend so everyone was able to log into secure work systems from their home machines.

For us, since we use Github and Azure DevOps here in DeviDiv, our collaboration model is asynchronous and distributed whether we are in the office or not. Can you imagine everyone working remotely while using a locking source control system in 2020? I feel bad for those who are in that predicament.

Can something be BETTER remotely?

Many of us miss being in the same room with co-workers, and we will be together again one day, but are there some things that the constraint of being remote can make better? In the podcast episode Amanda said that our new hire bootcamp was so much better remotely!

She said (paraphrasing a bit):

We have a bootcamp for anybody who's newly started on the team. They actually fly out for two weeks. And the first week is introduction and the second week is our customer driven workshop. And our customer driven workshop is basically this really intense team project where you break up into groups of five to six people, and you're given a business assignment like - how could we double the number of Python developers using Visual Studio Code.

You're basically doing like stickies on the wall the entire week - that's how you collaborate. I've been so amazed that that has transitioned to be remote first. And it's better. It's better. That was a brainstorming process that I thought was only possible in person it's better.

When we moved remote, we had to essentially reboot the way that we thought about our meeting culture to actually make it much more inclusive. And if we go from 40 to 50% of the people participating to just 2 people participating, that's a huge, not only degradation, but you're wasting people's time. Right?

Now if we can actually take six people who've never met each other before and get them to work super collaboratively on a new problem area that they've never worked on before. It's incredible. And the thing that's also really awesome about it is they are forced by nature of the fact that this is remote to actually create it as digital content. Whereas in the beginning they would literally walk us through sticky notes on the wall and they had fantastic ideas, but it was really kind of somewhat unorganized and, and it was hard to be able to see and, and retain and share out afterwards what these incredible ideas were that they came up with.

But when remotely starts with this digital format by necessity because everyone is remote first, we actually now have all of these things archived. We can come back to them, we can go back and actually see, you know, what was the genesis of the thought and, and pursue a lot of these things that we really weren't being able to pursue previously.

Constraints breed innovation!

It was nice to be reminded that People are People

2020 normalized being a person. Having a boss welcome a sad child to sit with them during a meeting reminded me that, what, my boss is a person? With a life and kids? Having meetings while going for walks, talking about treadmill desks, and video called parties with family, and OMG when will this be over is the most horrible team building exercise ever.

It's forced us to rethink our group's culture, how our interpersonal dynamics work, how many meetings we have (let's have less), and it's given everyone the joy of somewhat flexible hours. We talk more now about 'is everyone in this meeting being heard?' than ever before. We use the "hand raising" tool in Teams to make sure all voices get a chance to speak.

If 2020 hadn’t happened, we may not have made these important leaps forward. MAYBE this would have happened by 2025 or 2030 but COVID was the pivot point that forced the issue.

Here's some other blog posts that are both reflecting on our last year and hopeful for the coming year:

Software Development in 2021 and Beyond by Amanda Silver

4 Open Source Lessons for 2021 by Sarah Novotny

Low-code Trends: Why Low-Code Will Be Big In Your 2021 Tech Strategy by Dona Sarkar

PODCAST: Living through 2020 as a Remote Developer

Sponsor: Looking for free secure coding training but don’t know where to turn? Check out Veracode Security Labs Community Edition to start hacking and patching real apps online. Try it today.

© 2020 Scott Hanselman. All rights reserved.

      Looking back on Software Development in 2020 and forward to 2021 published first on http://7elementswd.tumblr.com/

[suzanneshannon]

Looking back on Software Development in 2020 and forward to 2021

I think we can all agree 2020 sucked. Hopefully 2021 will be better.

I've been a remote worker for 13 years by choice but in 2020 I HAD TO DO IT because, well, most programmers and tech workers did. I wrote about how Remote work != Quarantine Work while our whole division and then the whole company moved back home! We were a fairly remote-friendly company before but I have to admit I didn't always think my coworkers had really deep empathy for the remote...until they, too, were forced to be remote.

Last week on the podcast, I got to speak with Amanda Silver. She's a CVP in the Microsoft Developer Division who has been coding and thinking deeply about coding for many years. She's leading the creation of tools like Visual Studio, Visual Code, Live Share, Code Spaces, IntelliCode, and other collaborative productivity products. She's always thinking about what coding will look like in 1, 5, and even 10+ years.

We talked about her thoughts on moving the division remote and whether it would slow us down. Would it change how we develop software? What about when everyone comes back? After talking to her about her thoughts on 2020 and where she thinks we're heading, I got to thinking myself and wanted to put those thoughts down.

2020 broke everything, and developers like to fix things

Somewhere in the spring as we started into lockdown, developers started making sites. Sites to track COVID, GitHub projects with scripts to scrape data and analyze it. Javascripters started making D3.js visualizations and codepen users started building on top of them. Bots on twitter would tweet out updates and parse new data.

When there's a problem - especially a scary or untenable one - developers run towards the challenge. Necessity breeds invention and 2020 was definitely a year where we were collectively reminded there was a bunch of stuff that was always possible, but we needed a push. Cameras and mics were upgraded, ring lights were purchased, home networks got fancier, and everyone who could called their ISP and got an upgraded plan. We could have done all this before, but why? Remote work happened for the first time in 2020, and I say that having worked remotely forever.

We HAVE to collaborate remotely now

Back in 2010 I spoke to PhDs at Microsoft Research about how people feel when they are remote and what they can do to be more connected. Ten years! Folks thought it was pretty "out there" but I sure needed my virtual cubicle buddy this year.

2020 accelerated what was possible with remote collaboration. I spent hours coding with Live Share, pushing text and coding context over the wire, not a ridiculous 4k worth of pixels. Having two cursors (mine and my friends) - or even 10! - in one Visual Studio seemed like magic. Even more magic is me pressing F5 and my coworker hitting their localhost and seeing our app running! We needed tech like this more than ever in 2020.

I heard one story where a company sent everyone home but folks had disparate desktops and laptops so they set up 100s of Virtual Desktops over a weekend so everyone was able to log into secure work systems from their home machines.

For us, since we use Github and Azure DevOps here in DeviDiv, our collaboration model is asynchronous and distributed whether we are in the office or not. Can you imagine everyone working remotely while using a locking source control system in 2020? I feel bad for those who are in that predicament.

Can something be BETTER remotely?

Many of us miss being in the same room with co-workers, and we will be together again one day, but are there some things that the constraint of being remote can make better? In the podcast episode Amanda said that our new hire bootcamp was so much better remotely!

She said (paraphrasing a bit):

We have a bootcamp for anybody who's newly started on the team. They actually fly out for two weeks. And the first week is introduction and the second week is our customer driven workshop. And our customer driven workshop is basically this really intense team project where you break up into groups of five to six people, and you're given a business assignment like - how could we double the number of Python developers using Visual Studio Code.

You're basically doing like stickies on the wall the entire week - that's how you collaborate. I've been so amazed that that has transitioned to be remote first. And it's better. It's better. That was a brainstorming process that I thought was only possible in person it's better.

When we moved remote, we had to essentially reboot the way that we thought about our meeting culture to actually make it much more inclusive. And if we go from 40 to 50% of the people participating to just 2 people participating, that's a huge, not only degradation, but you're wasting people's time. Right?

Now if we can actually take six people who've never met each other before and get them to work super collaboratively on a new problem area that they've never worked on before. It's incredible. And the thing that's also really awesome about it is they are forced by nature of the fact that this is remote to actually create it as digital content. Whereas in the beginning they would literally walk us through sticky notes on the wall and they had fantastic ideas, but it was really kind of somewhat unorganized and, and it was hard to be able to see and, and retain and share out afterwards what these incredible ideas were that they came up with.

But when remotely starts with this digital format by necessity because everyone is remote first, we actually now have all of these things archived. We can come back to them, we can go back and actually see, you know, what was the genesis of the thought and, and pursue a lot of these things that we really weren't being able to pursue previously.

Constraints breed innovation!

It was nice to be reminded that People are People

2020 normalized being a person. Having a boss welcome a sad child to sit with them during a meeting reminded me that, what, my boss is a person? With a life and kids? Having meetings while going for walks, talking about treadmill desks, and video called parties with family, and OMG when will this be over is the most horrible team building exercise ever.

It's forced us to rethink our group's culture, how our interpersonal dynamics work, how many meetings we have (let's have less), and it's given everyone the joy of somewhat flexible hours. We talk more now about 'is everyone in this meeting being heard?' than ever before. We use the "hand raising" tool in Teams to make sure all voices get a chance to speak.

If 2020 hadn’t happened, we may not have made these important leaps forward. MAYBE this would have happened by 2025 or 2030 but COVID was the pivot point that forced the issue.

Here's some other blog posts that are both reflecting on our last year and hopeful for the coming year:

Software Development in 2021 and Beyond by Amanda Silver

4 Open Source Lessons for 2021 by Sarah Novotny

Low-code Trends: Why Low-Code Will Be Big In Your 2021 Tech Strategy by Dona Sarkar

PODCAST: Living through 2020 as a Remote Developer

Sponsor: Looking for free secure coding training but don’t know where to turn? Check out Veracode Security Labs Community Edition to start hacking and patching real apps online. Try it today.

© 2020 Scott Hanselman. All rights reserved.

      Looking back on Software Development in 2020 and forward to 2021 published first on https://deskbysnafu.tumblr.com/

[suzanneshannon]

Looking back on Software Development in 2020 and forward to 2021

I think we can all agree 2020 sucked. Hopefully 2021 will be better.

I've been a remote worker for 13 years by choice but in 2020 I HAD TO DO IT because, well, most programmers and tech workers did. I wrote about how Remote work != Quarantine Work while our whole division and then the whole company moved back home! We were a fairly remote-friendly company before but I have to admit I didn't always think my coworkers had really deep empathy for the remote...until they, too, were forced to be remote.

Last week on the podcast, I got to speak with Amanda Silver. She's a CVP in the Microsoft Developer Division who has been coding and thinking deeply about coding for many years. She's leading the creation of tools like Visual Studio, Visual Code, Live Share, Code Spaces, IntelliCode, and other collaborative productivity products. She's always thinking about what coding will look like in 1, 5, and even 10+ years.

We talked about her thoughts on moving the division remote and whether it would slow us down. Would it change how we develop software? What about when everyone comes back? After talking to her about her thoughts on 2020 and where she thinks we're heading, I got to thinking myself and wanted to put those thoughts down.

2020 broke everything, and developers like to fix things

Somewhere in the spring as we started into lockdown, developers started making sites. Sites to track COVID, GitHub projects with scripts to scrape data and analyze it. Javascripters started making D3.js visualizations and codepen users started building on top of them. Bots on twitter would tweet out updates and parse new data.

When there's a problem - especially a scary or untenable one - developers run towards the challenge. Necessity breeds invention and 2020 was definitely a year where we were collectively reminded there was a bunch of stuff that was always possible, but we needed a push. Cameras and mics were upgraded, ring lights were purchased, home networks got fancier, and everyone who could called their ISP and got an upgraded plan. We could have done all this before, but why? Remote work happened for the first time in 2020, and I say that having worked remotely forever.

We HAVE to collaborate remotely now

Back in 2010 I spoke to PhDs at Microsoft Research about how people feel when they are remote and what they can do to be more connected. Ten years! Folks thought it was pretty "out there" but I sure needed my virtual cubicle buddy this year.

2020 accelerated what was possible with remote collaboration. I spent hours coding with Live Share, pushing text and coding context over the wire, not a ridiculous 4k worth of pixels. Having two cursors (mine and my friends) - or even 10! - in one Visual Studio seemed like magic. Even more magic is me pressing F5 and my coworker hitting their localhost and seeing our app running! We needed tech like this more than ever in 2020.

I heard one story where a company sent everyone home but folks had disparate desktops and laptops so they set up 100s of Virtual Desktops over a weekend so everyone was able to log into secure work systems from their home machines.

For us, since we use Github and Azure DevOps here in DeviDiv, our collaboration model is asynchronous and distributed whether we are in the office or not. Can you imagine everyone working remotely while using a locking source control system in 2020? I feel bad for those who are in that predicament.

Can something be BETTER remotely?

Many of us miss being in the same room with co-workers, and we will be together again one day, but are there some things that the constraint of being remote can make better? In the podcast episode Amanda said that our new hire bootcamp was so much better remotely!

She said (paraphrasing a bit):

We have a bootcamp for anybody who's newly started on the team. They actually fly out for two weeks. And the first week is introduction and the second week is our customer driven workshop. And our customer driven workshop is basically this really intense team project where you break up into groups of five to six people, and you're given a business assignment like - how could we double the number of Python developers using Visual Studio Code.

You're basically doing like stickies on the wall the entire week - that's how you collaborate. I've been so amazed that that has transitioned to be remote first. And it's better. It's better. That was a brainstorming process that I thought was only possible in person it's better.

When we moved remote, we had to essentially reboot the way that we thought about our meeting culture to actually make it much more inclusive. And if we go from 40 to 50% of the people participating to just 2 people participating, that's a huge, not only degradation, but you're wasting people's time. Right?

Now if we can actually take six people who've never met each other before and get them to work super collaboratively on a new problem area that they've never worked on before. It's incredible. And the thing that's also really awesome about it is they are forced by nature of the fact that this is remote to actually create it as digital content. Whereas in the beginning they would literally walk us through sticky notes on the wall and they had fantastic ideas, but it was really kind of somewhat unorganized and, and it was hard to be able to see and, and retain and share out afterwards what these incredible ideas were that they came up with.

But when remotely starts with this digital format by necessity because everyone is remote first, we actually now have all of these things archived. We can come back to them, we can go back and actually see, you know, what was the genesis of the thought and, and pursue a lot of these things that we really weren't being able to pursue previously.

Constraints breed innovation!

It was nice to be reminded that People are People

2020 normalized being a person. Having a boss welcome a sad child to sit with them during a meeting reminded me that, what, my boss is a person? With a life and kids? Having meetings while going for walks, talking about treadmill desks, and video called parties with family, and OMG when will this be over is the most horrible team building exercise ever.

It's forced us to rethink our group's culture, how our interpersonal dynamics work, how many meetings we have (let's have less), and it's given everyone the joy of somewhat flexible hours. We talk more now about 'is everyone in this meeting being heard?' than ever before. We use the "hand raising" tool in Teams to make sure all voices get a chance to speak.

If 2020 hadn’t happened, we may not have made these important leaps forward. MAYBE this would have happened by 2025 or 2030 but COVID was the pivot point that forced the issue.

Here's some other blog posts that are both reflecting on our last year and hopeful for the coming year:

Software Development in 2021 and Beyond by Amanda Silver

4 Open Source Lessons for 2021 by Sarah Novotny

Low-code Trends: Why Low-Code Will Be Big In Your 2021 Tech Strategy by Dona Sarkar

PODCAST: Living through 2020 as a Remote Developer

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      Looking back on Software Development in 2020 and forward to 2021 published first on https://deskbysnafu.tumblr.com/