#what do you mean they’re standing in the back of Vienna’s funeral

[thecountesstribe]

I thought you guys were kidding but people really believe those boys would've been Laenor's complexion? As Op said it's not outrageous for the boys to favor their white side more. Those children could've swung either way or fallen somewhere in between. I thought we came to a mutual understanding that the legitimacy of those boys were questioned because of their hair color and the fact that they look like Harwin? Like biblical times set aside there is no way people actually thought that having a half white parent and a fully white parent would've gotten them something else.. 😂😂😂😂 I'm creased here man. The writers made the focus point their legitimacy, which also plays a major part in Rhaenyra's right to the ascension of her throne. It wouldn't have been questioned as much if they had just given Rhaenys her brown hair like in the books. Well it still would've been questioned cause y'know, THEY LOOK LIKE HARWIN "BREAKBONES" STRONG. 😭😭😭😭😭😂😂😂 So drawing comparisons to Rhaena and Baela is just some of you grasping at straws. In their case they favored their mother's side more. They could've also come out looking like Daemon more as well. The twins are mixed. It was confirmed Laenor is not biologically those boys father ( he's still very much their Dad though, so before the select few start talking greasy, watch your mouths). Some people never cease to amaze me. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

I need this laugh today though, thank you guys.

“White bastard children” like you’re aware Laenor is half white, right? If you didn’t fall into the idiocy that was the show runners being so hellbent on using race & the appearance of Rhaena + Baela as being the ‘confirmation’ that the Velaryon boys are not Laenor’s then perhaps you might be able to use your brain for two seconds and realise that the appearance of mixed race children is a SPECTRUM and if Rhaenyra and Laenor actually did have kids together, then yeah, they might’ve come out looking like their cousins but, they also might’ve come out looking WHITE because Rhaenyra is white and Laenor is half white.

[honeypiehotchner]

i knew you (Bucky Barnes soulmate AU) -- part four

This one is a little shorter than usual, so I wanted to go ahead and post it. It’s mostly a set-up for what’s about to happen (eek). We’re officially in the Civil War timeline now!

two years later

You meet Steve and Sam at Heathrow airport. The first thing you do is wrap your arms around Steve’s neck. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. You have no idea how badly he must be hurting. To be taken away from his soulmate, thrust 70 years into the future to find her still alive, only to have her taken away from him again all too soon. You don’t know how he hasn’t collapsed from the pain. 

Steve hugs you back tightly, sighing into your shoulder. “Thanks.”

The funeral is quiet, not like you were expecting it to be anything but. 

The biggest shock of all comes when Sharon Carter reveals her relation to Peggy. Steve had mentioned Sharon in passing to you, something about her being a cute nurse that lived across the hall from him. You later found out that she was an SHIELD agent, but now she works for the CIA. 

Afterwards, when you’re standing with Steve, keeping him company in the church now that everyone has gone, he starts talking about Peggy. 

Anything and everything he can think of. Some of it inaudible from his tears, but he gets it all out and off of his chest, which is what he needed. He’s a mess, holding onto the church pews for stability that he knows he’ll never feel again, not with Peggy gone. 

You gather him in your arms again, fingers splayed at the back of his head, holding him close. Moments like this make you miss Bucky even more. Not only is he your soulmate, but he’s Steve’s best friend. The person who, alongside Peggy, is who Steve needs most right now. 

The good news is that Bucky’s feelings have been relatively normal lately. He hasn’t been the Soldier since he left D.C. that day. You would’ve felt it, and what you’re feeling, is nothing like before. 

Exiting the church, you see Sam standing under a tree, his phone pressed to his ear. You know he’s talking to your best friend, that’s for sure. She wasn’t able to come because of work. You also see Sharon glancing over at Steve, so you quietly slip away to join Sam, giving Steve the chance to talk to Sharon like you know he’s been dying to do. 

Sam continues talking to your best friend and you try not to eavesdrop, but mostly, you’re just feeling.

You think it’s because Bucky hasn’t been himself — without the Soldier’s mindset — in a very long time, but for the past year or so, you’ve had moments like these where all you can do is feel. Take it all in. 

You haven’t felt any overwhelmingly happy emotions from him by any means, but you’ve felt...peace. He’s anxious almost constantly, which you understand, and you desperately wish he was here for you to help him. Right now, he seems to be at peace. You’re not sure what caused it or how, but you hope, if anything, that he’s sleeping. 

In your most recent dream of him, that’s exactly what he was doing. Sleeping peacefully next to you. And when you shifted, he woke, only for a moment, to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer. Nuzzling your neck with his nose, he fell back asleep, but not before placing a kiss there. 

You woke that morning with sweaty palms and a stupid smile on your lips. 

“Are you signing it?” You vaguely hear your best friend ask through Sam’s phone.

You blink, tuning back into their conversation. 

Sam shakes his head. “I don’t like it. Steve doesn’t like it either.”

“What? What’s going on?” You ask, patting his arm to get his attention.

“The Sokovia Accords,” Sam explains lowly. “We wrecked shit—”

“I heard,” you grimace. “Not a good look for you guys.”

“Yeah, the Secretary of State didn’t think so either,” Sam scoffs, arms crossed over his chest. “Anyway, they slammed us with the Accords and it’s— They want us to sign our rights away, basically.”

“What?” You nearly yell. “You’re serious?”

“Deathly,” he nods. “Rhodes thinks we’re being dramatic, Tony too.”

“Great,” you groan. “Who else is signing?” 

“Natasha. Vision. I think that’s it.” Sam shakes his head. “Steve and I seem to be the only bastards with our heads on straight, but obviously they don’t see it that way.”

“That’s...I’m sorry,” you groan. “What’s this about, anyway? You took the bad guys down in Sokovia, wasn’t that the point? I know there was a lot of collateral damage, but...that happens no matter what. Avengers being there or not.”

“It’s not just Sokovia,” Sam sighs. “New York, too. And others. The guy had a whole damn presentation.” He shakes his head again, clearly torn up about it all. “They want to oversee us. Control us, basically. Tell us where we can and can’t go. And I just— I can’t do that. If I feel like someplace needs our help, we have to go. But if we sign that, then the government can tell us not to — or arrest us if we do. It’s not right.”

“I hear you,” you assure him. “I wish there was a way to amend it. They didn’t let you talk about it?”

“Nope,” he says. “Just slapped the book down on the table and said we had until today to figure out what we’re going to do. But basically said if we don’t sign, we’d be going to prison.”

Your eyes widen. “Prison?”

“If we go somewhere, which is inevitable. They’d be able to get us with anything. Probably bring up old charges just to get a headstart.”

“Fuck, Sam,” you say. “This is shit.”

“You’re telling me,” he mutters. He says goodbye to your best friend, her break from work ending way too soon for his liking -- you can tell by the frown he wears after he hangs up. “Anyway. Want a drink?”

You shake your head at his sudden subject change, and the fact that it’s still the early afternoon, but you agree nonetheless.

+++

The drink doesn’t happen. Well, you make it to the bar, but when you do, you’re met with the onslaught of news stations reporting a freak bombing in Vienna.

“Shit,” Sam cusses. “Where’s Steve?”

“He was with Sharon,” you explain, trailing behind him.

You share a worried look before starting to jog, back to the hotel they’re all staying at. He finds Steve by the elevator with Sharon -- interrupting a moment, by the looks of it, which you feel bad about, but you shove it away, reminding yourself of what’s just happened.

Sharon paces in her hotel room, on the phone, trying to get some answers. The TV screen shows a scene fit for nightmares. The UN Complex was bombed. The same complex that the signing of the Sokovia Accords was supposed to occur in today.

“Officials have released a video of a suspect, who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, The Winter Soldier.”

Your heart stops. 

You stumble backwards, nearly falling on your ass if it weren’t for Sam reaching out to steady you. 

“That’s impossible-- It-- I would’ve felt him turn,” you swallow around the lump in your throat, the bile threatening to rise. “I-- That’s not him. I don’t know who that is, but it’s not him.”

“It’s his face,” Sharon says quietly, not intending to be rude at all, you hope, but that’s how you take it.

“I know my soulmate,” you argue, shaking your head. “That’s not him.”

The room is quiet. Steve glances your way, but you don’t meet his eyes. He doesn’t believe you. You know he doesn’t. Why would he? The proof is clear as day, right there on the TV screen. It’s obviously Bucky’s face.

But it’s not him. You don’t know how, but it isn’t. You’re sure of it.

You knew it was him two years ago in D.C. You have to trust yourself again.

“I have to go to work,” Sharon breaks the silence, looking at Steve. “I imagine you’re coming too?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, then looks at you.

You glare right back at him. “I’m coming. Don’t argue with me.”

He doesn’t.

+++

An hour passes and lands the four of you in Austria. Sharon takes off to work while Steve, Sam, and you figure out your plan.

Steve talked with Sharon and made a deal. She’s going to give you the best head start she can, but she said she can’t promise anything. 

You and Sam find a random cafe to fall into, ordering something to eat to blend in while Steve talks to Natasha.

He comes back ten minutes later, looking less than pleased.

“She tell you to stay out of it?” Sam asks.

Steve is quiet. That’s a yes.

“Might have a point,” Sam shrugs. You almost hit him.

“He’d do it for me,” Steve replies firmly.

“1945, maybe.”

“Sam,” you warn, giving him a fierce look.

“I just wanna make sure we consider all our options,” Sam defends. “The people that shoot at you, usually wind up shooting at me. And since we’ve got a tagalong--”

“Shut it, Wingman,” you do hit him this time on the back of the head. “I’m coming. You act like I don’t have any gear on me right now.”

Both men turn to look at you.

You give them an incredulous look back. “Come on. After what happened in D.C. you really expect me not to walk around with a bullet proof vest on?”

“You got a gun?” Sam asks, taunting.

“Snuck right past airport security,” you mutter, tapping your hip with his leg so he’ll feel it. “Shut up about it.”

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“Because I’m tired of you acting like I’m some fourteen year old. I’ve been taking daily self-defense and combat courses for the past two years. I had to take care of myself somehow. I’ll be fine. And I’m coming with you. End of story.”

Both men share a look before shrugging, admitting defeat. Finally.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Sharon walking into the café. 

She steps in next to Steve at the bar, talking straight ahead to not draw any attention. “Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everyone thinks The Winter Soldier goes to their gym. Most of it’s noise. Except for this.” She gently slides him a pack of papers. “My boss expects a briefing, pretty much now, so that’s all the headstart you’re gonna get.”

“Thank you,” Steve says quietly.

“You’re gonna have to hurry,” she whispers, avoiding your eyes. “We have orders to shoot on sight.”

Chills run down your spine and spread out through your hands and toes. Fuck.

“We have to go,” you say evenly, not looking at Steve or Sam.

We have orders to shoot on sight.

Not if you can help it.

[kyber-crystal]

Divided We Fall

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~2.7k

Summary: In which she feels torn between the man she’s grown to love, whose ideas she agrees with, and her mentor and brother figure - who took her in with open arms and always accepted her when nobody else could.

Warnings: mentions of violence, angst, soft steve as always. you know the drill

A/N: tony’s your sort-of older brother (he took you in to train you not long before howard and maria passed), and you’re around steve’s age? I think? idk. includes a short IW scene but the time skip isn’t as drastic. SUPER SHITTY BC THIS IS A REALLY OLD ONESHOT

Tags: @pies-writes-and-more​ <3

Steve stood alone in the isle after Peggy’s funeral, leaning against the pew as he stared blankly down at the ground with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

You silently approached him and without introduction, he began to speak. "When I came out of the ice, I thought everyone I had known was gone. Then I found out that she was alive. I was just lucky to have her."

"She had you back, too."

Steve looked up, meeting your gaze. "Who else signed?"

"Tony, Rhodey, Vision, Nat."

"Clint?"

"Says he's retired," you smiled slightly.

"Wanda?"

"TBD. I'm off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords. There's plenty of room on the jet."

Steve sighed and bowed his head.

"Just because it's the path of least resistance," you continued, "doesn't mean it's the wrong path. Staying together is more important than how we stay together."

"What are we giving up to do it?" He shook his head, unconvinced by your words. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I can't sign it."

"I know. I don't want to, either. But it's not like I have any other choice."

"The thing is, you do."

"You know why I am." You gave him a hard stare. "Tony...he's basically the only family I have left. I'm no longer a daughter, no longer a girl with dreams...no longer with hope. I'm a weapon. As much as I don't agree with him, betraying him is the last thing I wanna do. He’s my mentor. I can’t just turn against him like that...it wouldn’t feel right."

"Y/N..."

"You know what I've done," you took in a deep breath, "I don't want to hurt any more people. I don't want to be controlled by a government that might not deem everything big enough of a threat for us to go out and do something about it, but I can't risk any more than I already have. I don't have any other choice but to sign those Accords, Steve."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I didn't want you to be alone."

You stepped forward, carefully pulling him into an embrace and at first, he tensed up at your touch but eventually relaxed, letting his arms wrap around you to pull you closer. And he just held you there, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other one held to the back of your head. Your head was buried in his chest and the warmth of him felt so familiar and safe; oddly comforting, that your chest began to ache because you knew in a matter of time you'd be ripped apart again.

Steve felt guilty. Despite the fact that he was the majority of the reason why all of this was happening, you still found it in your heart to look past it all and forgive him, to accept him for who he was. 

The broken woman standing before him was someone he'd grown to care about far more than he wanted himself to. Knowing that it wasn't long before you were taken away from him and forced to stand against him only made his grip around you tighten, as he was afraid to let you go out of his sight.

...

Seeing you across from him on the opposite side of the battlefield, standing firmly in between your Tony and T'Challa, broke his heart. If he was forced to fight Tony's team, he would. But he wasn't going to fight you, no matter what.

Everyone, while they were all busy fighting each other, could clearly tell something was going on between the two of you. But they didn't question it. They could clearly tell Steve loved you too much to even try and lay a finger on you and when someone else tried to, he quickly advanced on them.

You finally caved and turned last minute towards the end of the battle, unable to stand against the one man you cared about more than anyone else that wasn't family.

Everyone's actions followed with consequences. Though you'd switched sides abruptly, you'd been granted permission to stay with Tony at the compound under strict circumstances that you never stepped out of line again, or you'd be sent to the Raft prison along with the rest of Team Cap as well.

"Cap loves you, you know," Rhodey noticed your solemn expression as you, him, and Tony sat around in the lounge, taking in the aftermath.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you pressed your fingers to your temples. "I made a mistake."

"We all make mistakes. People do bad things when they're trying to survive."

"Tony, I'm sorry," you turned over to the billionaire, "but I just...I couldn't stand against him. Not when we've stuck together for so long." The words that came out of Tony's mouth surprised you.

"I know. He couldn't do that, either."

"We've all done things that we'd like to take back," you murmured, staring down at your hands now in your lap, "Pain makes people change. I'd like to believe I didn't just do this, I didn't almost turn on you guys. You know I didn't want to sign. But I did, because you're like my family. I can't fight my own family." "He's made mistakes, yeah," Rhodey said, "but we've all messed up, you know. We’re only human.”

"My mistake was letting myself love someone I'd have to end up hurting eventually," you stated bitterly, a sharp edge to your voice.

"Cap made that same mistake, too," Tony spoke up. "We all screwed up. Some of us just have to find it in ourselves to forgive...but I don't know if I can do that yet."

"I know," you glanced over at him, "I miss them so much. Your parents...they changed my life for the better."

The billionaire took in a shaky breath. "I miss them too."

"You guys might wanna open this now," Rhodey handed you an envelope with your name on it, and Tony a package with a phone inside. "Tony Stank."

You snorted, and Tony cracked a small smile.

"Table for one, Tony Stank?" you joked.

"You're practically a Stank too, Y/L/N, you know that," he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Tony Stank just sounds funnier."

You quickly fell silent as you opened the letter.

Y/N, I'm glad you're back at the compound. I don't like the idea of you and Stark rattling around a mansion by yourself. We all need family. The Avengers are yours, maybe more so than mine. I've been on my own since I was 18. I never really fit in anywhere, even in the army. My faith's in people, I guess. Individuals. And I'm happy to say that, for the most part, they haven't let me down. Which is why I can't let them down either. Locks can be replaced, but maybe they shouldn't. I know I hurt you both. I guess I thought by not telling you about Howard and Maria that I was sparing you, but I can see now that I was really sparing myself, and I'm sorry. Hopefully one day you can understand. I wish we all agreed on the Accords, I really do. I know you're doing what you believe in, and that's all any of us can do. I know you didn't want to sign, but you were right in siding with your family. Even though you were on the opposite side of the battlefield, I couldn't fight you. I didn't want to hurt you. I still don't and I never will. No matter what happens. Just know that I ...

"Priority call from Secretary Ross," FRIDAY's voice drifted through the room, "There's been a breach at the Raft prison." "Yeah, put him through."

"Y/N, Tony, we have a problem, Cap and—" Ross called in.

"Ah, please hold," you interrupted.

"No, don't—"

You glanced back down at the letter in your hands, filled from top to bottom with Steve's elegant handwriting.

So, no matter what. I promise you, if you need us, if you need me, I'll be there. It's you, it always has been and it always will be, and I'm sorry for realizing that too late. I'm sorry for not being able to come back. I know I promised I'd always be by your side, and I will. Although I may not in the best situation to return right now, I promise you I'll see you soon. Take care, -S.R.

Several tears welled up in your eyes and slipped down your face as you closed the letter, staining the paper with dark spots.

"So, what'd he say," Tony took in your watery eyes and hard-set jaw. "Something wrong?"

"...He's on the run," your voice broke, "but they're all out. He broke them out.”

...

170 DAYS LATER

It was almost half a year of Team Cap jumping from motel to motel under different names and disguises every night, while still trying to defend the world as best as they possibly could. And when they were caught, Steve was sure that they'd be sent back.

"He'll come back soon, I'm sure of it," Rhodey reassured you as you watched the news of the search for Captain America was still underway. "When someone loves you the way he does, he's gonna find a way to return."

"He doesn't love me. I'm no better than a monster. And...I'm pretty sure he has heart eyes for Sharon."

"Well, he fucked up on that part," he agreed, clasping your shoulder, "but you know what? In the end, he still loves you. We all saw the way he looked at you back in Germany, he didn't want to hurt you. If he truly cared, he wouldn't hurt you even if you were on the opposing side, and that's what he did. I know he's gonna return: for your sake."

"I don't know why I'm letting myself do this."

"What? Loving him? That isn't anything new."

"New?"

"Sweetheart, I knew from the moment I first saw you look at him that you were. Look, love is worth fighting for, but sometimes you can't be the only one fighting. At times, people need to fight for you. You gotta be vulnerable and let him in your heart. Otherwise you'll keep feeling like you're in pain."

He did return.

You'd gone to trial and defended him under your name two weeks prior. Much to your current oblivion, your persuasion had worked and he was granted release and allowed to return, though he did so under the same strict circumstances given to you as well. He was warned to not pull off something like this a second time, and promise to ask for the government's aid whenever necessary.

So you're not expecting to buzz him and the others in late one Friday night.

"Y/N."

"Nat?"

"Can you buzz us in?"

"Uh...yeah, sure," you nodded, opening the gates to let them through. Within minutes, they were standing right in front of you, looking the exact same as they did five months ago, though the exhaustion was clear in all their faces.

"Greetings, Y/N." The android's arm was slung around Sam's shoulders, who was helping to hold him upright.

"Vision."

"It's good to see you guys, Rhodey greeted.

"t's great to see you too," Wanda smiled. She seemed to have aged a bit since you'd last seen her though she was only a teenager, but still looked much younger than everyone nonetheless.

"Well, you guys really look like crap. Must've been a rough couple of months."

"Yeah, well, the hotels weren't exactly five-star," Sam shrugged. "Where's Clint?"

"After the whole Accords situation, him and Scott took a deal. It was too tough on their families, they're on house arrest," Natasha explained.

She turned to you and gave you a tight hug, squeezing your hand as she pulled away. "Hey. How you holding up?"

"Could be better," you gave her a sad smile. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, hey."

Steve stepped out from behind Wanda and Sam and took a few tentative steps towards you, his feet feeling heavier by the second.

The one man you thought you wouldn't be seeing again for a while was now in front of you, and you weren't sure how to react. Your heartbeat was deafeningly loud in your ears, drowning out the sounds of everything else as everyone fell silent upon seeing you two interact.

"Hey," you responded a few moments later, stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets. You lifted your head slowly, an unrecognizable sort of emotion flickering in your eyes for a brief second before you averted his gaze and looked back down at the ground.

He still looked the same, with his dirty-blonde hair and tall, muscular build, those piercing blue eyes and comforting arms. The sight of him alone made your chest ache and your stomach twist itself into knots at the same time you felt butterflies flying around. You hated that you allowed yourself to care about him so much, that your body still reacted to the sight of him even after not seeing him for so long.

"Uh...we'll give you two a moment," Sam awkwardly cleared his throat, leaving the room with the others.

When you glanced back up again you could see just how much being away had affected his overall appearance: his bright blue eyes that glittered with authority and passion had lost their light, red-rimmed and bloodshot with dark circles underneath that indicated it had been days since he last slept.

"I'm sorry, I know it took a while, but I'm here now. I missed you."

"I missed you, too," you said quietly. You swallowed hard, feeling the familiar sting to your eyes as you struggled to keep your tears at bay.

He sighed and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close like you'd done to him before all those months ago, gently rubbing your back. Despite the heaviness in your stomach, it still fluttered at the feeling of your body pressed against his and you sunk into his warmth, his touch making the room feel warmer somehow. His arms that held you were soft and comforting, yet strong and firm at the same time, and the feeling of being so close to him was so dizzying to the point it made your head spin. But you didn't want to let go, so you held onto him as tight as you possibly could.

During the time of his absence, when the majority of your days were spent wandering around the compound alone, you taught yourself to ignore the pressing feeling in the back of your head, the way you felt as if there was some void in your heart that could only be filled by him and him alone. Day by day you attempted to convince yourself that no, you weren't falling in love with him, no, you weren't supposed to fall in love with him because it'd only destroy you in the end.

Yet you still did.

Always playing the part of promoting liberty and justice for all, Steve believed his sole purpose was to inspire and empower others to make the world a better place, blending into the mantra of 'a star-spangled man with a plan.' He always planned things out, always knew what he was doing.

So when he realized as he was holding you there in his arms, that he'd fallen in love with you, he didn't have a plan. And frankly, it terrified him.

He didn't have a plan, so he just decided to go with what his gut told him.

Steve brushed a stray hair that fell across your face and tucked it behind your ear. You looked up in surprise, heart hammering against your chest as his thumb brushed ever so gently against your cheek before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

That's all he needed to do in order to eradicate all the anger, all the pent-up frustration and other emotion inside of you, to make you forgive him for every little thing that he's done to break your heart because there was nothing he could possibly do to make you love him any less.

"I love you," you mumbled as you pulled away, resting your head against his broad chest.

"I know. I love you too."

[redspiderling]

Next on “Do the Russos even know how to direct”

We have Civil War.

In this instalment we are going to focus on the following:

Camera Angles

Lighting

Locations

Let’s start with some easy stuff: the Church scene.

There are several things wrong here but first I feel like I should congratulate them for getting the ENTIRE faces of the actors on screen. Well done Russos.

I am left to wonder though, what’s with the angle? The camera is well below eye level, and it’s tilted. There are specific reasons why a director might use a tilt in the camera angle, for dramatic effect usually to portray imbalance, a moment of uncertainty for the characters etc. 

The script of the movie though has led us to believe that Steve gained his equilibrium after Sharon’s speech at the funeral, so he’s actually much more grounded now than he was during the meeting at Avengers HQ. Natasha is never imbalanced, and she definitely wasn’t during that time since she had made her position quite clear early on.

Thus, I am left baffled by the tilts and angles employed here. My eyes are feeling tired and I’m the one off-balance trying to figure out why they decided suCH ExtrEME AngLEs were necessary. 

It’s like a first year film student trying out weird shots for the heck of it, even if the characters are just having breakfast.

Also this

Was it really that hard to put the fucking mark a step to the right so they’d be centred? Why should my eyes bleed with your compositing Russos?! Also, we are we watching them from slightly above the floor, whyyyyyy?

Lets see a good example in a similar setting

Aaaah, the joys of being parallel to the ground and not watching the world like a drunkard. Note: this film was partially crowdfunded, yet this film-maker knew how to best position the camera AND, to use lighting as a storytelling tool to create tension and drama.

Let’s talk about lighting. Look at the frames bellow

If you hadn’t seen the film a dozen times, would you have been able to tell that these scenes took place in completely different settings, at completely different times, and with a completely different context? I know I wouldn’t. Everything, including tony’s clothes, is exactly the same. Same lighting, similar nondescript office space same weird tilts. 

I could argue with myself that they’re trying to offer character perspective, but it’s completely unnecessary and thus doesn’t work. There’s no reason to move the camera around just because one of the characters is sitting down, much less tilt it. 

I should note here that the Russos get away with A LOT thanks to how good the actors are. I mean, look at the disbelief on Sam and Tony’s face when Natasha agrees with Tony, and the self-satisfied smile on Tony’s face when he realises he knows something Natasha doesn’t (the spider kid). I also love how Tony says “case closed” the moment Natasha states her opinion. They knew she was the one that would seal the deal. Too bad character moments like that are cut as fast as possible.

To get back on track, character perspective should be employed when it’s of some use. There’s no reason to attempt (badly, I might add) to get Natasha’s perspective in these scenes. It doesn’t offer any information to the viewer and it’s just weird. Lets take some lessons from miss Fisher. The characters in a public setting

and the characters in a private setting

Everything is different even though the scenes are minutes appart. The light is employed to indicate the passing of time, top is morning, bottom is early evening. Top is more jovial, bottom is dim and intimate, this is a private discussion.

Also, note how, even though some of the characters are sitting down and some are standing up, the camera doesn’t tilt, or follow them around for no reason. Instead what it does, is slowly close in the more intimate the conversation gets.

Yet another thing the MCU lacks: a moving camera. 

The characters in the MCU are never allowed to breath on screen. There are constant cuts between shots, which means the actors don’t really get to dive into what they’re saying, and we’re not given the chance to really get a feeling of their emotional state. When a camera is allowed to roll, we get a much more complete sense of a discussion, because we get the quite moments and we get to slowly get to a close-up, instead of cut straight to it.

Moving on to talking about location. Take a look at these shots

Same generic lighting, same generic backgrounds (but OMG LOOK! They learned how to use focus blur!). 

Nothing in the frames above says anything of significance about the locations. The light is so eerily similar. It doesn’t offer anything in terms of atmosphere, we can’t tell how Natasha feels by looking at the location. One of them takes place, presumably, in her home, another is after a funeral, and bottom one is at the UN headquarters in Europe. Yet nothing screams “home” in the scene after the meeting at Avengers HQ, even the furniture look like they came out of a magazine. Nothing on screen, aside from Natasha herself, gives us any insight into what’s happening with the plot, and the emotional state of the character.

By the way, this is why the MCU uses labels a lot. “VIENNA”, “10 weeks later”. They don’t use the tools that they have properly, which leads to us viewers having no concept of time and space. Hell, the entire Civil War could have taken place during lunch hour on a Wednesday as far as we’re concerned.

Let’s take another lesson from Miss Fisher.

Location 1, morning, indoors

Location 2, midday, outdoors

The light already shows signs of difference, even though the scenes are a few hours away. Notice 2 things: a) The light is dimmer in the outdoors shot, and you’ll realise later why. b) The location is made clear by a sign on the fucking door, not to mention the character reads it out loud. No need for huge titles to cover the screen.

Location 2, evening, indoors

Intimate lighting, characters have taken outer layers of clothing off since they’ve been here for a while.

Location 2, night time, indoors

I can’t possibly stress this enough. Lighting.Is.Crucial. 

In the span of a few scenes, we have moved from nondescript, to intimate, to slightly creepy, because that’s what the script demanded of it.

Time is a very important element of film-making as well. We lose part of our connection to the characters, and to the plot, if we can’t figure out the timeline on which the events on screen unfold.

And an Easter Egg to close this post: Location 2, night time, outdoors

It’s raining. The film takes place in London. The weather is fickle in London, which means that even though they had a sunny morning, by midday the sky got cloudy (hence the dimmed light in the outdoors shot of location 2) by night time it was raining like hell.

Those are details that might seem minor, but are actually very significant. They add realism, tension, and a sense of story. It’s London. It’s going to rain, characters will have to deal with it. This, is what my professors were talking about when they were telling us that everything on camera has to have a reason to be there. The Russos are not film-makers, they’re hacks.

[stolethekey]

Hey! I love your blog! I was wondering if you’re still doing the soft angst prompts if you could possible do one for Steve/Nat with “I wasn’t ready to say goodbye” ☺️

from anonymous: are you still doing the prompts? would love for you to do ‘i wasn’t ready to say goodbye.’ ❤️

this one has also been in my inbox for five thousand years and i am also very sorry it took this long ok here we go

-

The air feels different as they eat at Sam’s table.

Natasha’s wolfing down eggs and waffles like she hasn’t eaten in days, and as Steve works slowly through his own heaping breakfast plate, he wonders if she notices it too.

It’s lighter, somehow, like their conversation in the guest room had cleared some of the unspoken fog between them. And despite everything, despite the metaphorical bomb about HYDRA infiltrating SHIELD and the literal bomb that had nearly killed both of them, he feels more secure about their partnership than ever before.

He wonders, as they shoo Sam out of the kitchen and wash the dishes side-by-side, just what it could become. If putting more out in the open could help it reach its full potential, whatever that might be.

“You asked me, earlier,” he ventures, clearing his throat, “Who the woman in that picture was.”

The sponge stills in her hand.

“Her name was Peggy Carter.”

Natasha turns the faucet off before turning to look at him. “I know,” she says, almost hesitantly. “But who was she to you?”

There is a moment of silence before he answers. “She wasn’t—not a girlfriend, really. A first love, maybe. But I went in the ice before anything could happen, so—”

“That’s rough,” she says softly.

“I think it’s mostly painful because of what she represents, you know? She’s always going to be my biggest what if—what if I hadn’t crashed? What if I’d found another way? What if I had lived through the sixty years I slept through?”

He sighs. “I guess I just—I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. To that world, to that life, to her.”

A faint, sad smile makes its way onto her face.

“No,” she says. “We never are.”

He meets her eyes, and something shifts in his gut as he does.

“Did you ever have something like that?”

“Yeah,” she says, almost wearily, as she turns back toward the sink. “SHIELD.”

-

Steve is standing on a bridge, gazing at the endless expanse of water before him, when she comes to find him.

He does not return the small smile she gives him.

“If you’re going to tell me that I might have to kill him,” he says shortly, “You can save it. Sam’s already given me that speech.”

“I’m not,” she murmurs. “I just wanted to say—I’m sorry. About Bucky.”

Steve sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry he almost shot your shoulder off.”

Natasha shrugs, leaning forward to rest her arms on the railing. “You’re not the only one he means something to, you know.”

He looks over at that, watching her study the water in front of them. He wonders if the scar that is forming on her shoulder will match the one on her abdomen, if it will be as painful a reminder to her as it is to him.

“You went to the museum,” he guesses.

“A while ago, but yeah.”

“Learn anything?”

Her gaze flickers briefly toward him before she answers. “Some. Not about me, but about who he used to be. It helped me make sense of the James I knew, I guess.”

He hums, and he lets the silence linger between them for a moment before speaking again.

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, back then. And I would rather not have to now, either.”

“Yeah,” she says softly. “Me either.”

-

He tries not to sob as Natasha walks up the aisle toward him, her footsteps echoing in the empty chamber.

It is hauntingly terrible, Steve thinks, that a room used for a commemoration of life just moments ago could empty out so quickly.

She opens her mouth to say something, but Steve suddenly feels an overwhelming urge to speak first, to do something other than recall the way that casket felt against his hands.

“When I came out of the ice,” he says, trying to control the shake in his voice, “I thought everyone I’d known was gone. Then I found out she was alive, and—I was just lucky to have her.”

The corner of her mouth ticks up into a small, comforting smile. “She had you back, too.”

His jaw clenches as he looks down at the floor, and she shifts in front of him.

“After everything that happened with SHIELD, during my little hiatus—I went back to Russia and tried to find my parents.”

His heart gives a small, dull lurch as he looks up.

Natasha gives her head a little shake, and a stone drops in his stomach. “Two little gravestones by a chain-linked fence. I pulled some weeds and left some flowers.”

She exhales shakily, and he waits for her to finish. “I’m just trying to say—we have what we have when we have it.”

Her voice is thin, with both her own pain and his, and suddenly he is done talking about this.

“Who else signed?” he asks brusquely, trying to ignore the hurt that flashes through her eyes.

She sighs, and he feels slightly guilty at the relief that comes with her lack of protest. “Tony, Rhodey, Vision.”

“Clint?”

“Says he’s retired,” she says flatly, and her eyes flick downward in a way that tells Steve she may be less than happy with that decision.

He looks briefly towards the door, trying to delay their march towards the inevitable destination of this conversation.

“Wanda?”

“TBD,” she says, a sardonic edge to her voice, and he hates that she can read him so well.

“You know, I’m off to Vienna,” she continues, her voice deliberately casual. “There’s plenty of room in the jet.”

He gives a heavy, tortured sigh, and she takes a step toward him.

“Just because it’s the path of least resistance doesn’t mean it’s the wrong path,” she says quietly. “Staying together is more important than how we stay together.”

Steve looks up, meeting her eyes, and he knows that she isn’t just talking about the Avengers.

There was a time he would’ve given almost anything for that offer.

“But…what are we giving up to do it?”

She sighs, sad but not surprised, and he tries to ignore the pain that shoots through his chest.

“I’m sorry, Nat.” He swallows, agonizingly aware of the finality his words bring. “I can’t sign it.”

Her eyes are disarmingly clear as she gives him a small, resigned smile, tilting her head slightly. “I know.”

“Well, then, what are you doing here?”

She rolls her eyes, and the familiarity of the sight almost makes him recant his decision right then and there.

“I didn’t want you to be alone.”

It occurs to him, as she wraps him in her arms, that the choice he has made is not costless, either—and the fact that he is giving her up is too excruciating to think about.

So he tightens his arms around her, letting his unspoken words hover around them, and mumbles into her hair.

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.” And I’m not ready to say goodbye to you.

“I know,” she murmurs, her breath soft against his neck. “I know.”

-

They find their way back to each other, miraculously, and Steve promises himself he will never stop being grateful for it.  

This promise becomes more and more difficult to keep as time passes, as their friends disappear along with half the universe and the ones that don’t get snapped do too.

Their worlds have always had their fair share of pain, but the lining of hope and comfort they used to bring each other seems harder and harder to find.

He attempts to conjure up some semblance of it when he walks in on her crying, because Natasha has cried more in the past few years than she has in her entire life and every one of her tears sends a jolt of anger through his body.

“I used to have nothing,” she says hoarsely. “But then I got this. This job, this family. And I was better because of it.”

She swallows thickly. “And even though—even though they’re gone, I’m still trying to be better.”

“You are being better.”

“I let myself get attached,” she whispers. “I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.”

“Nobody was.”

She doesn’t answer, so he tries again, forcing some humor into his voice. “I think we both need to get a life.”

She cracks a slightly teary smile, and the fissure in his heart heals a little bit. “You first.”

-

Time, as it turns out, is his primary source of pain.

It is time that took him from Peggy, and time that takes Peggy from the world.

It is time that robs him and Natasha from developing whatever it is they have into whatever it is it could be, time that forces them to jump from motel to motel instead of spending time in the state-of-the-art facility he knows she deserves. And once they return to that facility, it is the time that fills their lives with pain rather than joy.

It is time that finally manages to do what master assassins, Nazi organizations, and one hundred and seventeen world governments failed to do—it is time that fully, irrevocably, takes Natasha from him. With her, it takes every semblance of hope he had for finding a life in the messy, once-beautiful world he thought he might someday build a home in.

Timing is everything, as the saying goes, and maybe it is—but god, he wishes it wasn’t.

The timing of the funeral is really something, too, because the sun is out and the lake is beautiful and Steve could not hate it more. He hates the way his eyes burn during everyone’s speeches, hates the way his fist clenches in an effort to stem the audible sobs wracking his body. He hates the sympathetic pats and murmurs that he barely notices, hates the pity in everyone’s eyes as he stands and walks to take his place at their makeshift podium.

He hates that he can trace the ghosts of her footsteps on this very deck, hates that he has somehow once again cheated time and she has not.

Tomorrow, he knows, they will return to the job at hand, and he will fight alongside his friends, because that is the only thing he knows how to do and he will not let her sacrifice be in vain. At the moment, however, he knows nothing but grief, pain, and an all-consuming hatred for the concept of time.

His hands shake as he takes a deep breath, trying to collect himself before he speaks.

“Natasha meant a lot to me,” he says, letting his eyes shut briefly. “And I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.”

send me a soft angst prompt from this list (or one of your own)!

[stormtrprinstilettos]

Chameleon - Ch. 8

Summary: (slow burn!) Reader (that’s you!) moves to London, hoping to leave her past behind and find happiness. She makes friends with her new neighbors. (Guess who?) - So far we’ve established that Reader & Freddie are BFF, Reader & Roger have a thing and it probably should be more, and Reader & Brian are now working on their issues. {If you’re a new reader, please know that there is no proper summary to the story. I have no idea where this is going and take my direction from messages and comments that I get, so interact with me! I don’t bite!} 18+ please! [A/N: I know. I know. I’m sorry. This one is fluffy and angsty. You may want to quickly recap chapters 1, 2 and 4 because this chapter makes references to things and conversations from those. Yes, rapid fire posting of the last 2 chapters, but it’s not happening for the next one because I honestly don’t know where I’m going yet.] Word count: ~ 6.8k | Warnings: language (as always), angst, some talk of domestic violence. Tagging: @chocolatealmondmilkshake @thisjustfantasy @clogwearingspacepoodle @rogerrhqpsody @reedusteinrambles Ch 1 | 2 | 3(1)(2) | 4* | 5 | 6 | 7* (*=smut) || AO3

Your mind has drifted somewhere else. You’re sitting at the restaurant, your plate of food in front of you and you’re playing around with your fork. You’re thinking back to when you were 12 and in Marrakech with your mom, wandering around the souks, enjoying the chaos, sights and smells of the spices at the stalls. You were hearing your mom bartering with a Persian rug dealer in perfect French. You always wished you had paid more attention when she tried to teach you the language. You wished you had paid more attention to a lot of things she tried to teach you. You wished you had learned her strength. You needed her today, but she was gone.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, but you’re really not. It was a habit you picked up when you were with him – flashing back to happier times when you didn’t want to hear him yelling at you and chastising you about whatever wrong he thought you did. He wasn’t doing either of those things right now, though. He was being pleasant, a far cry from the person you knew him to be. “You know how my mind wanders sometimes.”

He holds your hand to stop you from fiddling with your fork in your food. “What I was saying was that I want to apologize for everything I’ve ever done to you. I was an asshole. A terrible person. I want you to know that I deeply regret everything.”

“Yeah, okay,” you tell him. It’s hard to believe anything he says. You don’t trust him, and you never will. You just want to get through this lunch and send him on his way. You drop your fork and pull your hand away from him. “I’m sorry, Mark, this is just weird. And awkward. And…” He drew his hand back and an apologetic look crossed his face. “Honestly? I don’t even want to be here with you right now.”

“I’m not here to cause problems, Y/N. I want to make amends.” His eyes fall to his lap and you start to frown. “I really am sorry. For everything.” You stand up from the table and he looks up, moving his hand to hold on to your arm. “Please don’t leave. You didn’t even eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” you gritted. “I lost my appetite when you showed up.” You start to walk away.

“Wait! Y/N! Please just…” He gently tugs at your arm. “Tell me what’s going on with you. How things are going. How’s your life like. I just want to…” You turn and sit back down. “I just want to know you’re okay.”

You were skeptical of the sincerity in his voice. He used that ploy every single time you’d leave and you’d go back every single time. “Things are wonderful. I’ve gotten away from everything that ruined me, I’ve made amazing friends, and I’m free. Finally.”

“And this guy I met. Does he treat you right?” he asks.

“Freddie. His name is Freddie. He’s my roommate, my best friend,” you inform him. “He saved my sanity when I first got here.” You chuckle as you tell Mark about how you met, and he seemed to be genuinely interested in everything you were saying.

“I’m glad you have someone taking care of you. Not that you can’t take care of yourself! I’m glad you have someone to lean on.”

Mark keep yammering but you’re not paying him any attention. You see Brian and Jane following the restaurant hostess, and they’re being seated at the table next to yours. Brian stops by your table and looks over to Mark, who stopped talking once he realized you weren’t listening to him again. “This is Mark,” you tell Brian before you turn to to continue the introduction. “Mark, this is my friend Brian and his girlfriend, Jane. Brian lives next door. He’s in the band with Freddie.” They shake hands, and you can see that neither one of them trusts the other. Jane seethes as she sits down, glaring at you.

Mark had started talking again, but you weren’t listening. You didn’t care about anything he was saying. “How did you find me?” you hastily interrupted him. “Just stop with the bullshit. How did you know where I was?”

“Lisa,” he started to explain. “Lisa told me that you might be here.” She was your best friend. Keyword: was. Lisa was there the day you met Mark. She was the first person you always went to when you were back home. She was always the one person you depended on, until you found out at your father’s funeral that she had been his little plaything for years. It disgusted you. You haven’t spoken to her since. “She’s worried about you.”

You chuff and roll your eyes. “Worried, I bet. Probably more worried that her sugar daddy died and I’m the one with all of his money and she’s not getting any of it.” All of this was growing more sickening by the second and it was becoming harder to not cause a scene. “Thank you for lunch but I really have to go.” You start to move back from the table.

“What about dinner tonight?” he asked.

“I have plans.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Plans.”

“Monday?”

“I have plans. Whatever day you ask, whatever time, I already have plans,” you snap. “Look, I’m not going to pretend to be okay, or to be happy you’re here, or act like a friend, so stop trying.”

“But, Y/N…” He reaches out to grab your hand again, but you quickly pull it out of his reach and grit your teeth.

“You destroyed me, Mark, and you think popping up unannounced and uninvited and some lunch and a few words of apology is going to make everything okay?” You start to cry, not out of sadness, but out of sheer anger. “You destroyed me. Don’t you understand that? Destroyed me.” You wipe the tears from your face with frustration. “I was 16. Sixteen, and fragile and you took advantage of that.”

He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, a smug look on his face. “You came with me willingly, Y/N. Don’t act like I kidnapped you.”

You slammed a fist on the table. “I was sixteen. You were 25. Do you not see the problem?”

He grabbed your wrist and his smugness turned to ire. “I never forced you to do anything. You were always willing.”

“Because I was terrified of you.” Yank your arm away, trying not draw attention. “I didn’t want any more bruises.”

He starts to indignantly chuckle. “If you were so ‘terrified’ then why did you always come back?”

“Because you were what I thought deserved.” You stand up from the table and look at him, angrily, this time throwing those spears with your eyes. “But now I know that I deserve so much more than a piece of shit like you.” You grab your purse, sling it over your shoulder and walk out.

Mark tries to follow you, but Brian reaches out an arm to stop him from passing, having heard every single thing that just transpired. “If you ever go near her again,” Brian starts, “I will make sure you regret ever stepping foot in London.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Liberated. That’s how you feel. Mark may have been in London to fix his conscience, but you were the one who was truly rewarded. You finally stood up to him. Sure, there was more you could have and wanted to tell him, but you stood up to him, and that was more than enough to satisfy you. There was absolutely nothing that was going to stop you from floating. When you got back to your building, you ran into Freddie outside and greeted him with a huge smile on your face. When he saw you happy, he gave you a huge smile in return. “It went well. I closed that chapter in my book. I finally slayed that dragon.”

“Oooh, a warrior princess,” Freddie joked. “Maybe you’ll need a sword to go along with that tiara.” He grabbed you into a hug. “I’m proud of you. I was worried it was going to be a disaster.”

“Where are you off to?” you ask as you pull out of the hug. Freddie gives you a sneaky smirk. “Ah, a secret. You’ll just have to tell me later.” He gives you a kiss on your cheek and scurries off.

When you walk in the flat, you throw your purse and keys on the table by the door and are surprised when you notice someone standing in your living room. “Holy shit, you scared me!”

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Roger says in a soothing voice, smile on his face, holding a bouquet of sunflowers and a small box in his hand. He wasn’t supposed to be home until tomorrow so this truly was a surprise.

You walk up, throw your arms around his neck and kiss him. Not some emotionless kiss. You mean it, and he means it when kisses you back. After, you both stand there, gazing into each other’s eyes, smiling with relief. “Oh yeah?” he asked with a pleased grin.

“Yeah,” you smiled back.

“What was that for?” He asked with a smile. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Because I wanted to. Do I need a reason?”

“No. Not at all. It was quite nice.”

“Nice? That’s it?”

“It was impeccable.” You giggle and give him a flirty slap on his shoulder before he moves back and does a silly, aggrandized bow. “For the lady, I bring gifts,” he says in a dramatic voice as he holds out the flowers and box.

“Sunflowers,” you smile. “My favorite.” You give him a quixotic look, wondering how he could possibly remember that. You only ever mentioned it once in passing when you were both on your way to a movie one afternoon when you saw them in a store window. He shook the box to get your attention, antsy for you to open it. Inside you find a gold and jade bracelet and start to cry.

“Is that the one?” he asks. You look at him with happy tears and shake your head yes. He puts the flowers down on the table and helps you put it on. A few weeks ago, the two of you were wandering around the shops in Camden and you saw it in the window of an antique store. You told him that your mom had one just like it and that she used to let you wear it whenever the two of you would dress up for a fancy dinner.

“I can’t believe you remembered,” you whisper. He looks at you and gently smiles before moving your hair behind your ears, holding your face his hands and wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

“I remember everything,” he jokingly growls before guiding you over to sit on the sofa. “Anything interesting happened while I was gone?” He keeps up the joking, knowing good and well you were just getting home from lunch with Mark, and pulls you in to cuddle with him.

You rest your head on his shoulder and quietly chuckle. “It went fine,” you tell him. “I didn’t let him win.”

“Good,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. You tingled inside every single time he did that. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

“I missed you,” you whisper, snuggling yourself closer.

He laughs softly. “Well you don’t have to miss me anymore. I’m here.” He pulls you closer to him before moving his hand up to play with your hair. You don’t know if he felt comfort in doing that or if he knew you loved it. Either way, you were perfectly fine with him always playing with your hair. “I missed you, too. I even left at an ungodly hour so I could get home as soon as possible.”

You missed him more than you thought you would, and you thought it was silly that you missed him as much as you did. He had only been away for a few days. You missed this – the safety and comfort he brought when he held you like he’s holding you now, the feeling that everything was going to be okay. “I never had this before,” you tell him, breaking the silence.

He gives you another kiss on the top of your head. “I never had this before either,” he whispers. “Never wanted it before.” His hand continues to fiddle with your hair as his body shifts slightly, and he softly clears his throat, reaching down to grab his cigarettes.

“I talked it out with Bri,” you told him as you stood up to go grab a couple of beers from the refrigerator.

“You talked to Brian?” he asked, surprised. “Without strangling him? How long was I gone?” He lit two cigarettes at the same time, one for him and one for you, as you walked back in, handing him a beer as you sat down.

“We fixed everything,” you told him, matter-of-factly before taking a sip of your beer. “We’re even going watch the meteor shower tonight.” His eyebrow raises and he flashes a half grin. “Oh stop,” you tell him, “Like you’d take me down there to watch it.”

“I’ll share you for a little while but later tonight, you’re all mine.”

You jokingly roll your eyes and sigh. “Oh alright, I guess you’ll do.” You give him a snide smirk.

He calmly puts his cigarette in the ashtray, takes yours from you and does the same before looking back and you and giving you the same snide smirk that you were giving him. “I’ll do?” He throws himself on top of you, tickling you and you’re laughing hysterically. “I’ll just do?” You’re trying to stop him, but he grabs both of your hands and holds them down as he leans over, kissing the tip of your nose. “You’re lucky I picked you to spend the night with.”

“Over who? Lyla?”

“It was a hard decision, but you came out on top.” He gives you a quick, hard kiss. “You give better blowjobs.”

You laugh and push him off you. “Watch it, or you won’t get anymore.”

He stands up and turns on the radio and a slow song is playing. “Ah, I heard this one the other day. It’s nice.” He looks over to you and gets a silly grin on his face. “I love this song,” he said, mocking your movements and the way you told him the same thing at the club that night you two first slept together. You started laughing so hard you had tears. “Dance with me.” He grabbed your hands and pulled you up to him, wrapping your arms around each other.

“You’re an idiot,” you tell him through laughter while he still has that silly grin on his face.

“Y/N?” he asks, still mocking you. “You’re cute.”

You start to play along, this time mocking him. “Cute? Just cute? I’m offended!”

The grin falls into a sincere smile. “You’re beautiful.” He pulls you close to him and wraps his arms around you as you lay your head to his chest, closing your eyes, hearing his heartbeat. He rests his chin on top of your head and sways the both of you to the music coming from the speakers. You enjoyed every moment spent with him, but these were your favorites – when he would hold you close, making the world around you disappear.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“Rog is okay with this?” Brian asks on the car ride.

“I don’t need his approval,” you giggle. “I’m not his property.”

“You didn’t tell him?” He was a bit surprised, but grateful.

“No, I told you – our secret.” You wanted to tell Roger about that afternoon with Brian, if only to not have any problems caused further down the road if he did find out, but you weren’t in any kind of commitment with him, so you justified keeping it a secret.

Brian raises his eyebrow before asking his next question. “Did you tell Freddie?” He knows you tell Freddie everything.

“Freddie figured it out all on his own. He won’t say anything. If he does he has to pay John 10…” You stop yourself as Brian looks at you, slightly humored.

“So the bet was real,” he murmured as he parked the car. You looked over to him, slightly horrified that he knew more than he told you. “The last practice, they were talking about it. I thought they were joking. Clearly you know about it,” he laughed. He looked out the window and groaned. “It’s fucking cloudy. We may not see much.”

“Typical,” you start laughing. “We can’t ever have a date that goes smoothly, can we?” Brian appreciated the jokes. He was worried that after everything that happened you would feel awkward around each other. Seeing that you didn’t helped him not feel anything odd.

Brian reaches into the backseat and pulls out a present. “Here. A little something for your birthday.” He smiles and hands you a wrapped gift.

“Oh, Brian, you didn’t have to…”

“I know, but I wanted to. Go on. Open it.”

He waits patiently as you carefully unwrap the small trinket box embellished with a picture. Your mouth drops open. “Brian… it’s…”

“Yeah,” he whispers softly. You run your hand over it, tears starting to form in your eyes that you’re desperately trying to hold back. It’s Rembrandt’s portrait of Andromeda Chained to the Rocks. “Do you like it?”

You throw your arms around him and give him a tight hug. “I love it.” You can’t stop the stray tear from falling down your cheek. “You, Roger and Freddie are the greatest. You’ve all made today one of the best. I don’t know what I would do without you guys.” You give Brian a kiss on the cheek as you slowly move away, and his eyes start to pierce yours.

He hurries and pulls away, not wanting to upset the distance you two created that night by the river and looks out of the car window. “Looks like there’s more clouds coming,” he says with a quiver in his voice. “Maybe we should just go home.” You keep looking at him, hoping to get him to turn back to you. “We can catch the next one.”

“Brian?” you call out to him, and he turns to look at you. “I mean it. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He smiles appreciatively. “I don’t know what I’d do without you either, Y/N.” He clears his throat and starts the engine. “Let’s get going. No reason to sit here.”

After a few minutes in silence, he looks over to you and sees you still running your hands over the picture on the box and notices your new bracelet. “I see Rog gave you his present?” You smiled and shook your head, your eyes diverting to your wrist. “He was proud of that one,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, I was surprised he remembered,” you whispered. “We saw it in Camden. My mom had one just like this.”

“Wow,” Brian said, impressed that Roger was so thoughtful. “I was wondering why he was so insistent we go to that shop.” You looked at him with a curious face. “Last week when Freddie told us today was your birthday. He made us go there because he knew exactly what he wanted to get you.”

A shocked look fell over your face. “You went with him?” You were smiling.

“Yeah,” he giggled. “We all went. Me, Rog, and Fred.” His giggle turned to a laugh. “Fred give you his present?”

“Yes, he did. I wore it all morning.” Your laughter gave way to an awkward silence. “Hey, Bri? Sky blue.”

“Ha, I was just about to ask.” You we’re both struggling to make conversation, not because of a lack of things to talk about, but because neither of you knew if bringing up the topics each of you wanted to would be a good idea.

He doesn’t head straight home, taking the longer route and driving through the streets of the city with no particular destination. “Where are you going?”

“I’m being spontaneous,” he laughs. ���Someone told me once that I should be that more often.”

“Ah, must have been a wise person who told you that,” you chuckle.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“He’s a good guy,” Brian spurted out with no warning once you arrived back to the flat. “He cares about you more than he cares about himself, Y/N, and that says a lot.” You look over at Brian, who doesn’t meet your stare. “I was worried because I’ve seen him with others before, but you’re the first person he’s ever put above himself.” You look down at your bracelet and smile as you start to run your fingers over it. “He makes you happy. You smile anytime you think about him.” You look over at Brian and he’s smiling at you. “He does the same when he thinks about you.”

Your face turns serious and you start to gaze out of the window. “I’m not used to any of this. Part of me wants to ruin everything so I won’t get heartbroken first.”

“We’re not all like Mark,” Brian tries to reassure you. “If Rog ever turns into that I’ll kill him myself.” He started to chuckle at his joke, but you didn’t react.

“I’m scared to let myself feel, Brian.”

“We’re not all like Mark,” he tells you again, putting a hand on your leg. “Some of us do appreciate a remarkable girl when we meet one.” You dart your eyes to him and he clears his throat, rushing to move his hand away.

“I’m far from remarkable,” you whisper. “I’m nothing special.”

“It pisses me off when you do that,” Brian says, exasperated, as he hits his hands on the steering wheel before gripping it tightly. “You don’t see your own worth and what you’re worthy of.” He releases his hands, relaxing himself. “That asshole broke you, yes. Now it’s time to let someone else fix you.” He points down at your bracelet, making sure you look down and see it. “That wasn’t bought by someone who sees you as just a friend he likes to shag occasionally.” You look up at Brian, who is looking at you with encouragement. “Let him fix you.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When you walk into the flat, you see everyone there – Roger, Freddie, John, Gemma. Freddie runs up to you quickly and excitedly. “There she is!” He puts your tiara on your head and you both start cracking up laughing. “Come here, there’s someone I want to introduce you to!” He grabs your hand and rushes you into the kitchen.

The first person you see is Jane, much to your chagrin, but she smiles and hurries over to you and grabs you into a hug. Your arms are completely limp, and you look at Freddie not knowing what to do. You slowly move your arms up to hug Jane back. She starts to talk low in your ear. “We must talk later, okay?” She moves back and looks at you, smiling. You shake your head and she goes back to the oven. You are beyond confused right now.

“Princess,” Freddie calls you over. “Meet Mary. My friend.” He put strong emphasis on the word “friend,” and you knew exactly what he was implying. “As you can see,” he turned to Mary, “we only allow pretty girls around, so you’ll fit right in.” He kissed her on the cheek and wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Y/N, it’s so good to finally meet you,” she says as she holds out her hand, which you quickly shake. “He talks about you so much I feel like I already know you.”

Before you could answer her, you feel Roger sneak up behind you and pull you close. “Now you know where Fred was always sneaking off too,” he chuckled. “We like her. We’re going to let him keep her.”

Freddie released his grip on Mary and tugged her arm. “You’ll have plenty of time to gab. Right now, you must meet Brian.”

You turn to face Roger, his arms still wrapped around you. “How was the sky?” he asked with a smile.

“Eh, it was too cloudy to see anything, so we didn’t stay.”

“How much longer do I have to share you for? There’s something I want to discuss…”

Before you could answer, you hear yelling coming from the living room. It’s Brian, and he’s yelling louder than you ever thought he could be. “I told you to leave her the fuck alone!” You look to Roger, then back at Jane who is still standing by the oven, all three of you with shocked looks on your faces. You all rush to the living room to see what’s going on.

Gemma and Mary run towards you, stopping you and Jane while Roger pushes his way to where the males have all congregated in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought he was a friend of yours,” she starts to cry. “I let him in. I didn’t know…”

“It’s okay,” you tell her, but you don’t look at her. You’re worried about what’s happening between Brian and Mark.

Mark tosses a book to Freddie before turning and walking to the door. “Make sure she gets this,” he grumbles before walking out and slamming the door. No one says anything, too stunned to even move.

“Who the fuck was that?” Roger asked before it dawned on him. He turned to you, looking at you for confirmation of his suspicion. You shook your head and he took off running out the door, with Brian, John and Freddie following him.

You and the rest of the girls stay still, not knowing if you should follow or stay inside. You keep looking at each other, hoping one of you would make a move, but no one knows what to do. “Brian told him at the restaurant if he came near you again he would regret it,” Jane tells you.

“Who is that?” Mary asks. You start to laugh, and they all look at you like you’re insane.

“This is why I don’t celebrate my birthday.” You take a seat on the sofa and grab a cigarette from a pack that’s sitting on the coffee table. “They always start great,” you say before lighting it. “But they always end completely fucked up.” You take a slow drag and lean back, crossing your legs. “I’m sorry you’re all having to witness to the circus that is my life.”

Jane sits down next to you and puts a hand on your knee. You glance over at her, wondering why she’s being so nice to you. “I heard what he was telling you at lunch,” she started. “No one deserves that, Y/N. No one.”

“Not even me?” you ask with a sly grin.

“No one,” she says firmly. “I know you and I didn’t get off on the right foot, and I take my blame in that. But I would never have acted the way I did with you had I known.” She sighs and takes a deep breath. “Don’t get mad at Brian, but he told me some things today and…”

You look up and Mary and Gemma and explain, rather nonchalantly. “That was Mark. He’s my ex. He used to beat the shit out of me.” Their looks turn sympathetic and they come to sit by you. “No, you’re not allowed to look at me like that,” you say with a smile. “Do not pity me.”

“Y/N has been through a lot and…” You cut Jane off before she could finish.

“And it’s made me stronger. Like I said, don’t pity me. There are people out there who have dealt with and are dealing with much worse.” You don’t want a pity party. You don’t wallow in misery about any of it, not anymore, and you don’t want them treating you like some delicate flower.

Jane looks over to Mary and Gemma, feeling like she needs to explain more, although you wish she wouldn’t. “Brian has always been so defensive of Y/N, and I would get so infuriated because I thought he was in love with her or something, but it turns out he was just being a protective friend.” You close your eyes and try to help the sinking feeling in your stomach go away. “Y/N and I haven’t gotten along,” she says as she puts a hand on your shoulder. “But I hope all of that can change.” The timer in the kitchen starts to go off and Jane jumps up, startled. “Uh, dinner is ready!” All of you start to laugh as she rushes into the kitchen, followed by Gemma.

Mary moves to sit next to you, your eyes still closed as you take a hit from your cigarette. “Y/N?” Her voice is tinged with concern. “I know I’m the new girl here, but is there more than just some ‘protective friendship’ going on between you and…”

“Oh, God,” you mumble as you open your eyes and glare at Mary before you start to laugh again. “As I said, my life is a circus.” Her concern starts to relax, but you can see she’s curious. “It’s nothing, honest.”

She smirks, and you realize that she may be privy to more information than you first thought. She is with Freddie, after all. “That’s not true,” she chuckles before starting to whisper. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”

“It was one time,” you adamantly whisper back. “That’s it.”

You want to make sure she understands, but the guys walk back inside laughing and patting each other on the back. “That’s been taken care of,” John tells you, excited by whatever had transpired. “He won’t be coming back.” Gemma runs in from the kitchen and grabs him into a hug.

“That’s John’s birthday present for you, Princess,” Freddie says with pride. “Didn’t know he had it in him.”

You look over to Brian and Roger who are both looking at you. “John! Your hand!” you hear Gemma yell in the background. “Let’s get you some ice!” You head more talking and mumbling, not paying any attention to any of it. You can’t stop looking and Brian and Roger, and they couldn’t stop looking at you, until something or someone distracted Brian and he walked away.

Roger’s expression is blank, as is yours, not knowing how to process everything that just happened. He waves you over, and you go to him. He grabs you into his arms and holds you tight. “I wanted to kill him, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt anyone as much as I wanted to hurt him.” He kisses the top of your head, and that’s all it took for you to release the built-up tears you didn’t know you were holding in. “I won’t let anything happen to you. None of us will.” He moves to look down at you, and you look up at him. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere quiet. You’ve had a long day.”

“But…” you point back towards the kitchen and he stops you.

“They’ll understand. Come on.” He grabs your hand and walks you to his flat.

Finally, you think to yourself. Silence. You get comfortable on the sofa while Roger grabbed some beers before joining you. You look up and smile at him as he sits down next to you. He hands you a beer as you take one of his cigarettes. You know he has things he wants to know. After lighting your cigarette, and one for himself, he leans back into the corner of the sofa and lets out a deep breath. You take this as your cue to start talking.

"I met him when I was 16. I was with my friend Lisa at the record shop, whining about being too young to go to Monterrey. They were having a big music festival out there the next week. We wanted to be hippies, but we didn’t even have a car.” You start to chuckle and look at Roger, who is looking and listening to you intensely. “Mark heard us and told us that he was headed out that way and would give us a ride. So, I went home and packed a bag. Left a note on the kitchen table for my dad and hopped in his car, by myself. Lisa didn’t come. She got scared.”

Roger can’t help but laugh. “I look at you now and can’t picture you as one of those flower kids or whatever they were called.”

You laugh as well, thinking back at how ridiculous everything really was, but you started to get introspective about it all. "Free love was a nice concept, but none of them ever wanted to know me. To know my hopes, my dreams, my likes and dislikes. My favorite flower..." The two of you share a sweet smile.

“My grandma and mom both died in a two-year span. My dad was an asshole. I was alone. When I met Mark he promised me everything,” you say as you roll your eyes, trying to fight back your tears. “A couple of years later I stole enough money from the son of a bitch and got a train ticket back home from Phoenix. I begged dad to forgive me and let me back home. He did, gave me a job at his company, but never missed the chance to tell me how worthless I was.”

“Dad was a hard man. Everything with him was hard. His attitude, his work ethic, his drinking.” You look over to Roger to make sure this sudden bout of spewing wasn’t making him uneasy. He was listening closely, so you continue. “He had a massive heart attack a year later. Left me with all his shit and the flat. Then Mark showed back up and I wanted to travel. We saw the world together. Anywhere we wanted to go. It should have been an amazing time.” You take a deep breath before continuing. “But I saw the Andes Mountains with a black eye. Strolled La Rambla with a broken arm."

He wants to hold you. He wants to comfort you. But he lets you finish. He’s starting to get emotional, too, listening to you pour your heart out to him like you never had before. “He decided he wanted to do that fancy meditation shit in India, so I took it upon myself to buy him a one-way ticket to New Delhi. That’s how I got rid of him.”

He grabbed your arms and pulled you into him, holding you tight and gently pushing your head to lay on his shoulder, playing with your hair. “I don’t know how anyone could ever make you feel like that, Y/N. I don’t know how anyone could ever want to hurt you.”

“Well, he did a good job at it.” You wrap an arm around his waist and snuggle in closer. “I went back home after he got on the plane. I thought I would be better, but I only got worse. I was still trying to find that one thing I was missing.”

He thinks back to the first real conversation the two of you had a week after you got here. “Love,” he whispered.

“Loneliness is the worst feeling, you know? Especially when you have everything. You sit at home, you look around at everything you have, but there's no one to talk to. No one to share any of it with." You look up at him, tears still staining your face, and smile as you hold a hand up to his face. “But then I came here and from the very first day I knew I would never be alone again.”

“No, you’re not alone, and you’ll never be alone as long as I can help it,” he said softly, returning your smile. You laid your head back on his shoulder and he started to play with your hair again, relaxing you, and the two of you sat in silence. Your breathing eventually got slower and you eventually drifted off to sleep. As you did, he whispered to you, hoping you would hear him, even if in your subconscious. “You deserve the world, Y/N. I want to be the one to give it to you.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────��─ ⊰

You woke up the next morning on Roger and Brian’s sofa, covered in a blanket and a pillow under your head, hearing the two of them talking from one of the rooms in the back. “They said we can use the studio late at night, but we’re a couple hundred short of what we’ll need to cut the demos,” you heard Brian telling Roger.

“Shouldn’t be that hard to get it,” you hear Roger reply as they make their way back up to the living room. “Fred and I can get that in about a week at the stall.”

“Or I can give you the money and you pay me back by writing a song for me,” you tell them, surprising them because they didn’t know you were awake and listening to what they were saying. You started to giggle when you saw the looks on their faces. “It doesn’t have to be on the first album. I’ll wait for the second.” They were speechless. “Okay, third?” They still gave you no response. “Fourth. That’s my final offer.”

They look at each other and smile big cheesy smiles before turning back to look at you. “Really?” Brian asks. “You’d do that for us?”

You look at them with an unamused look. “After everything you guys have done for me, it’s high time I repay you however I can.” Roger opens his mouth to talk but you stop him. “Shush. I insist. Let me do this.”

“Did you just ‘shush’ me, Y/L/N?” he jokingly asks.

You stand up and walk over to them. “Yes I did, Taylor, now are you taking my money or not?”

“We’ll have to talk to Fred,” Brian says. “If he says…”

“No!” you yell. “Do not tell him. He won’t agree to it. I tried to give him money the other day to buy a jacket he was looking at when we were shopping and he wouldn’t take it. There’s no way he’s going to take it for this.” They both looked back to each other and shrugged. “Good. It’s time you start listening to me.” You start heading for the door but turn back around. “Thanks for letting me crash on the sofa last night.”

“Anything for our Princess,” Brian chuckles.

“I think she should be promoted to our queen,” Roger jokes.

“Hmm,” you say as you tap a finger to your lips. “That’s a great name for a band.” The three of you start to laugh before you bid them goodbye and head back to your flat.

Brian looks at Roger who is smiling to himself. “She’s a good one, Rog.”

“She’s pretty great.” He smiles, just like Brian told you he does when he thinks about you.

“Are you ever going to tell her how you feel?” Brian asks with a raised brow. Roger looks puzzled and Brian starts laughing. “Your ego makes your head too big to fit through the door sometimes, but you’re scared to tell her, aren’t you?”

“What if she doesn’t…” Roger stops himself, looking to Brian for reassurance. “What if she doesn’t feel the same way about me?” He starts to laugh. “My ego couldn’t handle the rejection.”

Brian gives Roger a friendly slap on the back. “Well look at this. The teacher needs advice from the grasshopper,” he says, humored by the fact that it was Roger feeling nervous about a female this time. “She feels the same. Tell her.”

[captainamerivel]

civil war

Author’s Note: I’M ERASING THE IDEA OF A ROMANTIC CONNECTION BETWEEN SHARON AND STEVE. IN THIS AU, SHE’S ONLY SO WILLING TO HELP HIM BECAUSE HE WAS IMPORTANT TO PEGGY, WHICH SHE KNEW. Also, I didn’t tag anyone because this isn’t Spencer Reid related, so I didn’t know if my normal taglist would care.

Word Count: 1.8k

It was all over the news.

ELEVEN WAKANDANS WERE AMONG THOSE KILLED IN A CONFRONTATION BETWEEN THE AVENGERS AND A GROUP OF MERCENARIES IN LAGOS, NIGERIA.

You were still trying to process what happened when Steve came storming through the compound.

“What hap-“ His lips were on yours immediately, pressing you back against the wall.

“I really don’t want to talk about it right now.” His hands were everywhere, pulling off your clothes and gripping at every inch of exposed skin.  His lips found their way down the side of your neck, sucking harshly and causing you to moan.

“Steve!” You gripped at his shoulders, his biceps, anything to help steady your now-racing heart. “Steve, I need you to tell me what happened.” He pulled back slightly, piercing blue eyes meeting yours with a silent plea. “I can’t talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it. Please, Y/N, please don’t make me talk about it.”

His voice has never been this small, this scared before. Your hand came up to cups his cheek gently and you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Use me.”

--ONE MONTH LATER--

“Did Tony give you any information about what today’s meeting was about?”

Steve looked at you through the mirror, shaking his head. “Just that he needs everyone back at the compound today.”

You climbed out of bed and walked over to where your boyfriend was fixing his hair in your vanity mirror, resting your cheek on his bare back. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Tony wasn’t with you guys in Lagos, but he did pay for the repairs and the funerals. I’m sure he just wants a clear and concise picture of what happened.”

Steve let out a sigh. “I tried to tell him what happened, and he didn’t want to talk.”

“When you first got home, you didn’t either.” You moved to step in front of him, raising up on the tip of your toes to meet his eye. “Everything is going to fine, Steve.”

“I know.” He pecked your lips quickly, grabbing for his black shirt. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

--

Steve wasn’t at your apartment when you got home from work later that afternoon, so your mind immediately assumed something was wrong. You pulled out your phone faster than you could blink and dialed the first number in your mind.

“Nat, where is he? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” Her voice was distant, almost detached. “After today’s meeting with Secretary Ross, Steve and Tony got into a bit of disagreement, Steve got a message and disappeared. Apparently, a Margaret Carter passed today.”

Your mind raced, trying to place where you’d heard that name before. Peggy. “I know where he is.”

--

You were on the first flight you could get to London. For two days – two whole days! – you tried to call Steve, but all you got was his voicemail. You’d lost count how many messages you’d left him, begging him to call you back. The closest you could get was a few calls from Natasha, who gave you the address of the church where Peggy’s service was being held.

When you got there, Natasha was already sitting outside. “I didn’t want to go in disrupt the service.”

“Smart.” You sunk onto the stair next to her. “Wanna finally tell me why Steve and Tony were fighting?”

“Secretary Ross proposed that the Avengers no longer be a private organization. He wants us to sign what’s been dubbed The Sokovia Accords. “She pulled out a thick book and dropped it in your lap.; You immediately begin flipping through and skimming it. “It means we’d answer to a panel and if that panel doesn’t deem a threat worthy enough, the Avengers won’t be allowed to step in and help. Tony thinks it’s a good idea—”

“Let me guess, Steve doesn’t?”

She chuckled, but before she could speak people started piling out of the church.

“I’m going to go in and talk to him.” She grabbed your arm before you could move.

“Let me. No offense but what he probably needs right now is another Avenger to talk some sense into him.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, she was already up and gone. You waited on the steps for about five minutes, impatiently tapping your foot before saying screw it and stepping inside. She was walking away as you approached him.

“Good luck.”

He didn’t see you until you were standing right in front of him. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“You would have if you’d answered your damn phone.” Your tone was harsher than intended. “I

may not be almost ninety-eight years old Steve, but I know what it feels like to lose someone important to you!”

“Listen,” he stepped closer to you, but you took a step back. “Y/N, I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Fine, then we won’t talk about Peggy. Let’s talk about the Accords. Are you really going to retire as Captain America because you now have to answer to someone Steve? Because you have to be accountable to someone other than just the other Avengers?”

“It’s not about that! If I sign, then I give up my right to choose what I fight for! I might as well be the countries dancing monkey again!”

“Listen to yourself!” You tried to bring your voice down. “Steve, you’re saying you would rather sit on the sidelines and do nothing while the rest of the world goes to hell?”

“I never said that I would do nothing.”

You laughed humorlessly. “No, you’re gonna go rogue. Fight for what you believe, laws be damned. Answer me this Steve, what happens when you get arrested? What happens when the American government orders a strike team for you? Am I supposed to stand up at your funeral and say I understand that you died fighting for what you believed in? Because I don’t understand at all. You have a choice here to make the right move and yet you’re—”

“Steve!”

You both turned to where Sam was coming into the building. Hurriedly, you reached up to brush away the hot tears that had begun falling from your eyes. “There’s something you gotta see.”

“A BOMB HIDDEN IN A NEWS VAN RIPPED THROUGH THE UN BUILDING IN VIENNA. More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda's King T'Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. The infamous HYDRA agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”

“Steve…”

“Go home Y/N.”

“But—”

“I said go home! I can’t be worried about you right now.”

With those few words, you felt your heart shatter. You waited for him to say something else, to apologize maybe, but he didn’t even turn around to look at you. So with your head held high and tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, you turned and left.

--

Steve hadn’t called by the time you touched down in New York two days later. When there were no messages on the machine in your apartment, you left yourself cry one good time before picking yourself up and continuing on with your life.

Of course, with the hype of the Accords and the bombing in Vienna, Steve still managed to stay on your television screen.

THE WINTER SOLDIER ARRESTED TODAY IN BUCHAREST, ALONG WITH STEVE ROGERS, SAM WILSON AND WAKANDA’S KING T’CHALLA.

STEVE ROGERS AND JAMES BARNES ESCAPE POLICE CUSTODY. ALSO MISSING, SAM WILSON.

ASSOCIATES OF STEVE ROGERS APPREHENDED TODAY INCLUDING WANDA MAXIMOFF, CLINT BARTON, SCOTT LANG, AND SAM WILSON.

It was the last one that made you look twice:

COLONEL JAMES RHODES SEVERELY INJURED IN CONFRONTATION WITH STEVE ROGERS AND JAMES BARNES.

“Tony?” You pressed the speaker on the door of the compound again, talking as loud as you could. “Tony, I know you’re in there!”

The doors opened and he was standing there, blasters aimed directly at you.

You held up your hands in surrender. “Before you ask, he didn’t tell me where he was going.”

“He didn’t tell me either.” He lowered his weapon, letting the table robot take it off for him.

You stepped inside, following Tony to his office. “How’s Rhodey?”

“Recovering.” He gripped his arm, wincing in obvious pain. “What brings you over to my neck of the woods?”

“I saw the news. Wanted to make sure everyone was okay.”

Tony chuckled, dropping his glasses on his desk. “Well, I can’t speak for Nat, Wanda or Sam, but the rest of us are fine. I heard Clint and that other guy – what was his name again? Sean? –”

“Scott.”

“That’s it! They took some plea deal to be with their families. Two years of house arrest.”

“That’s good. At least they’re not somewhere in the middle of the ocean.”

Tony looked up at in mild embarrassment. “I didn’t know they were going to put them there.”

“You knew they were going to put them somewhere.”

“You sound just like Rogers, you know that?” You shrugged. “Speaking of which, I cooked something up here for you if you’re interested.”

“Tony I—”

“Just hear me out.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a vial of crystal blue liquid. “I re-engineered some of Steve’s DNA and combined it with my old man’s original notes. Figured maybe you could be of some help, seeing as the Avengers are kind of MIA at the moment.”

“You want to turn me into a dancing monkey?”

He sighed. “I want to turn you into a super soldier. Figured you were the best candidate seeing as you’ve been shacking up with one for over two years.”

“You don’t exactly have a good track record with super soldiers…”

Tony shrugged. “Third times a charm.”

To Be Continued...

[rahullikesthings]

I guess I have to do one of these year-end reflections again. I’ve done them the past five years. They were initially just so I can post some music rankings, but later on I think I got a lot out of treating these like a journal. I don’t have anything obvious to say about 2018, which to be honest is a good thing. Overall, for me, it was a positive year. There’s nothing super obvious that stands about but nothing negative either. I think that’s because the foundation of my life mentally, socially, career-wise is finally being settled and that’s an incredible thing for me but also on the surface not too exciting. I did some traveling – Florence, Vienna, Mexico City. Is it worth doing? Absolutely. But, man, I really don’t like traveling alone. I got passed at my first comedy club. I found a new group of friends. I feel like I checked a bunch of accomplishments off my list. There’s still plenty more for next year and beyond, but I have no complaints. 

I was trying to put together these music lists and I realized how strange my relationship with music is today. Music means so much to me but it feels like I have so little time to spend with it. Partly in the attention span sense. Albums come out one week and then another batch drop the following week. It can feel hard to keep up. But really, I literally have so little time to actually listen. I strive to properly listen to everything I give a chance to. No screens, no other distractions. Unless I actually have free time at home at night, my only chances to do so are on my walk to the train station. And even then, it’s hard for my mind not to wander sometimes. So some albums maybe get one listen with 60% of my attention and that’s all they’re going to get. Singles are tricky too. I’ll like a song, throw it in a year-end playlist and maybe get back to it. I rarely ever listen to the radio and I work in fucking San Francisco, so I don’t always know what’s hot at the moment. 

As far as any art and media are concerned, I think I devote the most of my time and thought to TV and movies. I watch literally every tv show and I read all the criticism. I fucking love it. I will also see almost any movie. 

All my rankings are pretty arbitrary. For songs, albums and movies, I really had no obvious number one. Everything is kind of all there. For TV however, I absolutely loved Atlanta, Bojack and Big Mouth and think there’s so much to be said about how great they all are. Teddy Perkins, the Barbershop episode, the funeral episode, the Halloween party, all of Big Mouth. They made me feel all sorts of emotions but their existence alone brought me so much joy.    Best Songs:

Rae Sremmurd “Offshore (feat. Young Thug)” Drake “Nice For What” Don Tolliver “Diva” Migos “Stir Fry” Cardi B “I Like It (feat. Bad Bunny & J Balvin) Jay Rock & Kendrick Lamar “King’s Dead (feat. Future)” Lil Baby & Gunna “Drip Too Hard” Ella Mai “Boo’d Up” 03 Greedo “In My Feelings” Bas “Barack Obama Special” Jeremih & Ty Dolla Sign “The Light” Kodak Black “Calling My Spirit” Future “No Shame (feat. PARTYNEXTDOOR)” Calvin Harris “One Kiss (with Dua Lipa)” Sheck Wes “Mo Bamba” Gucci Mane “Wake Up in the Sky (feat. Bruno Mars & Kodak Black)” Tyga “Taste (feat. Offset)” Drake “Jaded” Pusha T “If You Know You Know” Khalid “Love Lies (with Normani)” Post Malone “Ball for Me (feat. Nicki Minaj)” Bad Bunny “MIA (feat. Drake)” A$AP Rocky “OG Beeper” Alison Wonderland “High (feat. Trippie Redd)” Shawn Mendes “Where Were You In the Morning?”

Best Albums:

Don Tolliver Donny Womack SiR November  Jacquees 4275 Meek Mill Championships Kodak Black Dying To Live Future Beast Mode 2 Tierra Whack Whack World Black Milk FEVER Scallops Hotel Sovereign Nose Of Your Arrogant Face BlocBoy JB Simi Mariah Carey Caution Cardi B Invasion of Privacy Playboi Carti Die Lit Mitski Be The Cowboy Jay Rock Redemption Pusha T DAYTONA Earl Sweatshirt Some Rap Songs Freddie Gibbs Freddie Kevin Gates Luca Brasi 3 Black Thought Streams of Thought Vol. 2 The Weeknd My Dear Melancholy, Lil Wayne Tha Carter V Ella Mai Ella Mai Saba CARE FOR ME Jeremih & Ty Dolla $ign Mih-Ty

Best Beats:

Pusha T “The Games We Play” (Kanye West, Andrew Dawson)  Black Milk “DiVE” (Black Milk) Tierra Whack “Hookers” (Nick Verruto) Earl Sweatshirt “Cold Summers” (Earl Sweatshirt) Cardi B “Money Bag” (J. White Did It) Playboi Carti feat. Nicki Minaj “Poke It Out” (Pi’erre Bourne) Future “Walk On Minks” (Zaytoven) Kendrick Lamar & Travis Scott “Big Shot” (Cardo, Cubeatz, Sounwave, Matt Schaeffer) Drake “Nonstop” (Tay Keith) SiR feat. ScHoolboy Q “Something Foreign” (Saxon) IDK feat. Domo Genesis “GOOD NEWS” (Sap) Ariana Grande “get well soon” (Pharrell) 03 Greedo “Basehead” (Kenny Beats, Judge Beats) Kodak Black “When Vultures Cry” (Helluva) Snoop Dogg feat. Goldie Loc “220″ (My Guy Mars) Phryme feat. Novel & Summer of 96 “Sunflower Seeds” (DJ Premier) Black Thought “The New Grit” (Salaam Remi) 2 Chainz “OK BITCH” (June James, The Hit Cartel)

Best TV Shows:

Bojack Horseman Big Mouth Atlanta Barry The Deuce Glow The Good Place Narcos: Mexico Ozark Better Call Saul Killing Eve Crashing (HBO) Shark Tank Succession Patriot Act with Hasan Minhaj Single Parents Sorry For Your Loss American Vandal The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel Homecoming Forever Maniac All of Nothing: Dallas Cowboys

Best Movies:

Roma Minding The Gap Black Panther Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse Widows mid90s A Star is Born Game Night A Simple Favor Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald Blindspotting Avengers: Infinity War Mission: Impossible – Fallout Eighth Grade BlackkKlansman A Quiet Place Searching Blockers To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before Incredibles 2 Best Comedy Specials:

Chris Rock: Tamborine Adam Sandler: 100% Fresh Sam Morrill: Positive Influence Tom Segura: Disgraceful Tig Notaro: Happy To Be Here The Degenerates: Big Jay Oakerson The Comedy Lineup / Comedy Central Stand-Up Presents: Tim Dillon Drew Michael John Mulaney: Kid Gorgeous at Radio City Musical Hall Bumping Mics with Jeff Ross and Dave Attell

Previously: 2017 | 2016 | 2015 | 2014 | 2013

[mredwinsmith]

This Episode Was Hard To Make

There we are in Austria filming some of the most important footage we’d ever captured. David Picon, my cameraman, receives a call from back home in his birth-country of Venezuela. He puts down the camera and takes a couple steps to stand by a tree in the park. The call lasts for a short while before he hangs up and drifts back over to us. In the seconds before he speaks I can almost taste what he’s about to say in the back of my throat. “My aunt,” he says to me holding back tears. “She was hit by a car crossing the road, and they’re taking her to the hospital.”

Just a week before, Picon and I were walking around Amsterdam shooting some b-roll. It seemed like the rain and gray had followed me from Seattle and weighed heavy that day of Dutch summer. I had just arrived to reconnect with Picon and my friends Mike Palmer from Adelaide and Amsterdam’s Hilco Beukema. With Skyd, we were filming games at Amsterdam’s Windmill tournament, one of the happiest places in the ultimate touring scene. I’d be overseeing our production and competing with Graz’s Catchup while gathering footage for a new episode of Ultimate Globe Trotter.

From Windmill, Picon and I were to travel to Austria to tour Graz and film more with the team, thanks to our thoughtful ambassadors Valentin Vogl and Richard Bartle-Tubbs. I’d then spend the rest of the month making my way to London to run video production at the 2016 World Ultimate and Guts Championships. It was really a dream trip: a month in Europe playing and being around ultimate and amazing people. At least, it was supposed to be. I kept hearing this voice in my head, this feeling that I just didn’t want to be there. None of this was new, I thought, and I’m absolutely exhausted. This was supposed to be another unforgettable journey with some of my favorite people in the world, but there I was wishing I was back home in Seattle, sitting by the water and doing nothing. What was wrong with me?

That wrestling match continued in my brain for much of the trip. I’m supposed to be having fun. What aren’t I happy? Be happy! I hated myself for being unhappy, and was unhappy with myself for knowing that I shouldn’t be. Rather than spending time fully engaging with friends both new and old, I’d often retreat back to wherever I was staying and lie on my bed alone, flipping through my phone. At my worst, I’d find myself unable to move; unable to interact. I’d sometimes feign excitement and assume a mask of normalcy, but it often felt foreign and hollow, as if everyone was seeing right through my charade. And I didn’t care. I didn’t fully comprehend it at the time, but I knew exactly what was wrong with me. I was depressed.

It’s a feeling that I had felt many times before, perhaps surprisingly many times in traveling for ultimate. For many LGBT people, it’s a feeling that becomes all too common in youth; trying to hide who you are for fear of society’s shun. It had been a long time since I came out, so this depression wasn’t about that, at least not directly. It was about something else.

I could never have predicted my life with Skyd and ultimate and the gift of being able to travel the world meeting amazing people and playing a sport I love. Along the way, I’d constantly assess myself on where I was in life. Do I have a steady income? Do I have a boyfriend? Do I have strong friendships? Do I own a home? Often the answers to these questions would be no, and I’d decide that I didn’t deserve to have much self-worth, despite everything I had accomplished. I would continually measure myself against the assumed standards of others and decide that I just wasn’t good enough. Again and again, this would hit me. I’m supposed to be something else now.

When I was moving and had something to do, I’d sometimes automatically, sometimes with a fight, pull myself to a place where that weight wasn’t there and I could be happy and I could be myself. Coffee would help. To be clear, this trip wasn’t all bad by any means. Quite the opposite. I will cherish so much of my June of 2016. But it was in those moments where things slowed down and I had time to think, that my brain would tell me that all you’re doing is spending time off the path that’s supposed to get you those things you think you want. Looking back it’s easy to be frustrated at myself further for not always embracing such an incredible trip filled with truly special moments and people.

So why am I sharing this? Partly, it’s to excuse myself for likely not being all that great to be around during this time. Partly, it’s to explain how depression can hold you down in moments that don’t make much sense for it to and how it’s okay to talk about this. And partly it’s to share how I feel that been able to address this rotten feeling.

He picked up the camera and propped it back up on his shoulders. “What can I do for you?” I ask him.

“No, let’s keep filming.” Picon says collecting himself. His words are shaky but deliberate. “There’s nothing I can do. We’re here now, let’s keep working.”

We spend the next hour or so gathering footage until the skies open and heavy rain starts to fall. We wrap our shots and Picon receives another call. He walks off again into the rain, while Rich and I take shelter under a tree to wait for him. Rich goes to get the car and Picon makes his way back, t-shirt soaking from the downpour, and water dripping from his glasses. He’s looking towards me, but it’s hard to see he eyes.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“She died,” he whimpers… “She was such a kind woman, she would always call to say hello. Such a kind woman.” I put my hand on his shoulder, not knowing how he wants to be consoled.

It would be another few days before Picon returned home to his wife in Barcelona. Our trip, booked in advance, had us going to Vienna for a few more days and he insisted on sticking with his original itinerary. “We’re here now,” he’d repeat. “I’ll have time to deal with this later.” Making a trip back to Venezuela in time for the funeral would be nearly impossible.

I didn’t recognize how important that moment was until long after.

The ultimate community is special. That’s something I’ve heard again and again. It’s something I stopped believing for a time and it took me a while to realize again how special it is to be a part of a community at all. Some people will go searching their whole lives to fit in and find people to care about. People who will invite you into their homes, make you dinner in Vienna, go out of their way to make sure you have a bed in Hong Kong, or despite tragedy, keep filming for some modestly popular project just because he believes in you. I think that’s more important than those other things I thought I needed at the time.

My life has not taken the conventional path that I thought it was supposed to and I’m so very glad it didn’t. The gray still returns to me from time to time. But I do my best to remind myself what I have, as opposed to what I don’t have. “You’re here now,” I’ve started repeating to myself as a reminder to keep pushing forward, despite the gray inside, despite what you think you’re supposed to be. Be here now.

Every episode of Ultimate Globe Trotter is made with passion and struggle. With beautiful moments and missed opportunities. With stunning photography and imperfections. With bad audio and unforgettable prose. They’re stories of travel and the wonderful people we meet along the way, but they’re also my stories. They’re experiences that serve as the detailed and distinct foundation for a brief glimpse into something bigger. This episode is no different.

Watch the seventh episode of Ultimate Globe Trotter here!

The post This Episode Was Hard To Make appeared first on Skyd Magazine.

from Skyd Magazine http://ift.tt/2E8tt6X