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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

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Here and Now

Author: SisterSpooky1013

Rating: Mature

Words: 2198

Read it here on AO3

Tagging @today-in-fic

May 25, 2021

Farrs Corner, VA

8:45pm

She stood at the sink, elbow deep in dishwater as she cleaned up the remnants of dinner. Music poured softly from the smart home device on the counter, a mix of Kasey Musgraves, Blake Shelton and Jason Aldean in what Mulder called “evening music.” She’d never been a fan of country, but this sultry, soulful version was a far cry from the twangy pickup truck tunes that she had previously been exposed to and she was surprised to find that she liked it. A new song started, “Tennessee Whiskey” by Chris Stapleton, and she smiled; it was one of her favorites. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, allowing her hips to sway slightly as the words began.

Used to spend my nights out in a barroom

Liquor was the only love I’d known

But you rescued me from reachin’ for the bottom

And brought me back from being too far gone

Maybe she liked this song because it reminded her a bit of her relationship with Mulder. Not that either of them ever had an inclination for drinking in their sorrow (thankfully) but because they’d saved each other time after time. As if on cue, she felt his hands at her waist as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her back flush against his front. He swayed softly with her, not speaking, his chin resting on her head.

You’re as smooth as Tennessee whiskey

You’re as sweet as strawberry wine

You’re as warm as a glass of brandy

And honey I stay stoned on your love all the time

“She asleep?” Scully asked, her hands scrubbing the perimeter of a pot.

“Mmhmm” Mulder hummed, his thumb brushing against the underside of her breast.

At 2.5 years old, Missy, or Samantha Margaret Mulder as she was legally named, was a bedtime resistance champion if there ever was one. Her requests for a drink of water, a trip to the bathroom, socks for her cold feet, or help with a blanket that had fallen off were endless. One or the other of them would sit outside her bedroom for upwards of an hour each night until she succumbed to exhaustion and passed out just inside the door, or on the floor of her closet, or once wedged up on the windowsill. A precocious child with strawberry blonde hair and hooded hazel eyes, she never wanted to miss out on anything and thus could not be bothered with unproductive things such as sleeping. Mulder had more patience for her antics than Scully did, tenderly marching her back to her tiny toddler bed over and over, kissing her plump cheeks and singing one more song. Her most popular request was “Fools Rush In” by Elvis and she would beam as her Daddy sang “I can’t help falling in love with you,” punctuating the ‘you’ with a gentle touch of his fingertip on her nose. The exhaustion of parenting a toddler in their 50’s was overshadowed only by the sheer joy she brought to their days with her inextinguishable curiosity and clear intelligence. Of course, every parent thinks their child is the smartest one in preschool, but in Missy’s case it was true.

Scully rinsed the pot and set it on the drying rack before she pulled the plug and let the water run out of the sink, wiping her hands on a dish towel and turning within the confines of Mulder’s arms to face him. She reached for his shoulders as they moved their dance to the middle of the kitchen, his hands traveling down until they found her hips, pulling her close as his lips brushed her ear and sung the next verse in his gravely baritone.

I’ve looked for love in all the same old places

Found the bottom of a bottle’s always dry

But when you poured out your heart I didn’t waste it

‘Cause there’s nothin’ like your love to get me high.

He pulled back and looked at her, his eyes soft and dreamy, a small smile at the corners of his mouth. She pushed up onto her toes and met his lips in a kiss. At first it was chaste, but when she slid her tongue against his bottom lip he sighed and slipped his hands lower to cup her backside, deepening the kiss and rocking his pelvis against her gently.

“Daddy?” A small voice called from the bottom of the stairs. Still embracing, they turned to see Missy’s rumpled form in her Frozen pajamas, a stuffed Bigfoot in one hand, her hair wild.

“Hey Magpie, what’s wrong?” He asked her. Having named her for both their sisters and Scully’s mom, his options for nicknames was endless and he did not let the opportunity go untapped. On any given day he might call her Missy, Miss thang, Sam, Sammy, Samwich, Maggie, Peggy or his personal favorite, Magpie.

“I heard somefing in my room” she whined, rubbing a fist over one sleepy eye.

“Come here, sweetie” Scully called to her, and she shuffled over to them where Mulder scooped her up on his hip and returned his other arm to Scully’s waist. Scully put her hand on Missy’s back and the three of them resumed the dance, swaying softly with Scully’s head resting on Mulder’s chest, where she could gaze at the sleep-dazed face of their daughter as she leaned against his shoulder.

And you’re as smooth as Tennessee whiskey

You’re as sweet as strawberry wine

You’re as warm as a glass of brandy

And honey I stay stoned, on your love all the time

As the last chords of the song faded out, Mulder placed a kiss on the top of Scully’s head and pulled away from her.

“I’ll go get this one back to sleep” he murmured, and she could see that it wouldn’t be a difficult task as Missy was already dozing in his arms. She listened to the creak of his feet on the stairs and sighed contentedly before turning off all the lights, locking the doors and heading up to get ready for bed herself.

When Mulder returned, she was lying on top of the covers reading a book, her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. He stripped off his jeans and tossed them into the laundry basket before nestling in beside her, his head on her shoulder.

“What cha got there?” He asked, but she knew that it wasn’t an actual question, just a signal that he wanted her attention. Closing the book, she set it on the nightstand and folded her glasses neatly on top.

“Do you think she’s down for the night?” Scully asked as Mulder rotated so that he was perpendicular to her, his head on her belly so he could see her face. She reached a hand up to stroke through his hair.

“I think so, yeah. She was pretty much asleep when I put her back in bed.”

“That child” she remarked, shaking her head.

Mulder smiled. “I know, she’s impossible, just like her mother.”

Scully’s eyebrows lifted in mock offense. “Excuse me? I love sleeping, she gets that from YOU, sir.”

Mulder scrunched up his mouth “hm, you may have a point there.”

They held eye contact, smiling fondly at each other for a beat.

“I don’t know how you do it, Scully.”

“What, parent? You do the same thing, Mulder.”

He shook his head slightly against the fabric of her T shirt. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate.

“You just get more and more beautiful. You’re even more beautiful now than you were when I met you.”

She chuckled and gave him a doubtful look. “Mulder, I was 28 when you met me. I don’t know about you, but I remember what my ass looked like at 28, and it was definitely better than it looks now. Let’s not even mention my breasts.”

“I would actually very much like to mention your breasts, which are, as they always have been, exquisite.” As he spoke, he pushed her T shirt up to reveal her chest, drawing a pink nipple between his lips and eliciting a moan from her throat.

“So you’re saying” she continued, her breath growing ragged around her arousal “that if 28 year old Scully walked in this room right now, you wouldn’t go for her instead of 57 year old Scully?”

He let her nipple slip out of his mouth with a little smack. “Well, I doubt that 28 year old Scully would be down to get freaky with 59 year old Mulder, but no, I wouldn’t.” He moved to hover over her, his knees on either side of her thighs. “I might try to talk you two into a threesome, though.”

She laughed and he dipped his head to kiss the juncture of her shoulder and neck.

“No shade to 28 year old Scully, I was a huge fan of hers, but she hardly ever laughed. 57 year old Scully laughs a lot, and I like that.”

“Well, 57 year old Scully is pretty damn happy” she replied, her hands running up and down the broad expanse of his back.

He lifted his head to look at her, a dopey smile on his face. The adoration in his eyes moved her and she felt a lump form in her throat.

“I love you so much” she whispered hoarsely, moisture welling and blurring her vision.

He didn’t respond, just kissed her with all the feeling of the thousands of kisses they’d already shared, and the thousands that never made their way to their lips due to distance, or fear, or stubborn refusal to admit that they wanted to. He pulled her to sit up so he could free her of her shirt, removing his own swiftly, their bare chests pressing together as he kissed her again, their tongues dancing between their mouths in a practiced synchrony. There was no longer urgency in their movements, the desperation of their coupling now ebbed into the languid cadence of a love that you know will never fade, not again, not ever again. Not with Missy asleep down the hall tying them to each other inextricably, not with William out there somewhere as a testament to all they’d been through. Not with the knowledge that there was nothing in this planet or universe that could come between them, not really.

She lifted her hips and he slid her leggings and panties down before pushing off his boxers, settling between her legs as his erection grazed her belly. He moved his hand down to touch her, moaning at her slickness.

“You still get so wet” he growled against her shoulder.

“28 year old Scully got this wet thinking about you too, she just didn’t have the luxury of you in her bed” she replied, grasping his ass and pulling him into her.

“All she would have had to do was ask” he teased, removing his hand and thrusting against her, his length sliding through her wetness.

She put her hands on his face and pulled him away to look at her.

“I wouldn’t change it, Mulder. Not if it meant missing this.”

“That makes two of us” he said as he found her entrance and slid into her, no need for hands to guide him to the place he knew better than his own body.

She hummed and they began a slow rhythm, kissing for a while until he lifted one of her legs onto his shoulder to deepen his angle and she gasped.

“I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be this flexible, Mulder, you’d better enjoy it” she panted.

“Oh I plan to” he replied, increasing his pace until they were lost in a sea of sighs and hushed moans, staying quiet a newfound skill after years of no one being close enough to hear them. She came first, stifling her cries against his shoulder as she pulsed around him, and he followed her shortly thereafter, gently releasing her leg and then rolling to curl up behind her as they enjoyed the afterglow.

She was starting to drift off to sleep when she heard the distinct snick of Missy’s door opening.

“Your turn” Mulder mumbled into her ear and she groaned, throwing his arm from its resting place on her hip before she grabbed her robe and rushed out to the room to get to her daughter before she made it into their bedroom.

After a trip to the bathroom and a drink of water, she was tucking a sleep-laden Missy back into bed, finding her Bigfoot stuffie and slipping it under her arm.

“Mama, sing a song” she requested, rolling on to her belly.

Scully rubbed her back softly and began, woefully off-tune though that never seemed to bother Missy.

“Jeremiah was a bullfrog, he was an old friend of mine. Never understood a single word he said but I helped him drink his wine. Joy to the world, all the boys and girls. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea, joy to you and me.”

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #xf fanfic

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 18: Told You I’d Say Yes

Summary: Steve, Katie and Sam begin their search for Bucky and they uncover something that makes Steve start to question where their priorities as a team should lie. Decision made, the two of them head back to the Tower in New York to join up with the other adventures, and when Katie’s 30th birthday arrives, Steve asks a very differen question…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language words, smut (NSFW), no under 18s. And a whole lotta teeth rotting fluff…

A/N: I think this is my favourite edit yet, @angrybirdcr

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 17

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Steve had no real leads and as such he, Katie and Sam spent weeks combing through the information that Natasha had provided, using JARVIS to translate the Russian which none of them spoke of course. It was hard work, stressful and gave them nothing of real use either, other than give them a bit more of an understanding of who the Winter Soldier was, so to speak, and then Sam had a brainwave. If Bucky was starting to get his memories back and pieced together that he had been working for Hydra under duress, he might go looking for answers, possibly even revenge.

They decided to start in the nearest Hydra base they knew about from the leaks on the internet, and as such they were now ransacking an old abandoned bank in the financial district in the middle of the night.

What they found wasn’t great- a dozen bodies of dead Hydra agents. Most looked as if they had had their throats crushed apart from one who was sat in a chair, a bullet between his eyes. From the look, and smell, they’d been there a while.

“That’s an execution.” Sam muttered, nodding at the man who had been shot and Katie looked at him as Steve simply turned and walked from the smaller room, back into the larger corridor. He made his way down, pulling open a thick door into the main vault and stopped dead as he saw some form of chair in the middle, surrounded by restraints and a device that looked like some kind of macabre halo. Steve felt his mouth go dry as he looked at it. I was some perverted form of the chamber he’d been in when they’d administered the serum…

“Looks like they were deleting data when they were interrupted…” Sam bent over to get a closer look at the computer to the side. Katie passed him the device she had brought and he plugged it in and started the data mining. As Steve made his way towards the two of them, Sam frowned and clicked on something that caught his attention and immediately the sounds of tortured screams filled the room. Katie jolted slightly as Sam took a step back, the three of them glancing at the screen which was sat on the desk. And all 3 wished they hadn’t. As there, on the screen Bucky was strapped down the halo-like contraption lowered onto his head.

“Turn it off!” Katie instructed to Sam, who moved to cut the footage immediately but Steve grabbed his arm.

“No…” he said firmly, his eyes fixated on the grim footage in front of him, his chest heaving with anger.

Finally the screams stopped and someone was saying words as they were in Russian but when they finished Bucky slumped down in the chair staring blankly ahead, as he spoke a single sentence, his face and voice completely void of expression and emotion.

There was a moment of silence when Steve suddenly snapped grabbing the edge of the table and flipping it over with a loud crash, all of the equipment and computers meeting a rather abrupt end along with it. He felt sick, upset, angry…and he couldn’t help but feel this was his fault for leaving his friend behind.

“Steve?” Katie asked anxiously, whilst she watched his shoulders heave with anger.

“Let’s go.” He instructed sternly, already making his way to the exit.

“Steve?” She called again.

“Now.” He bit back.

Steve didn’t speak a word whilst they drove home. Once they were in the apartment he stormed straight through the hall and up the stairs to the bed room. Katie turned to Sam who was hovering in the hall.

“That went well.” he quipped.

Katie sighed, walking into the kitchen and handed Sam a water which he thankfully took, draining it in one go.

“The thing is, Sam…” she ran a hand over her face “It’s gonna get worse, the more we dig, the more we’re going to find.”

“Yeah well, on that note I’m going to go back to the bank, do a bit more digging of my own tonight.” Sam sighed “See if I can find something that would give us an indication as to when exactly Bucky hit the base, might help us piece together a timeline of sorts.”

“Alright, but be careful, yeah?”

“I’m always careful, sugar!” Sam grinned, and Katie rolled her eyes. “Listen, you gonna be ok?”

“Yeah, I’ll give him some time. He’ll come round, he’s just…” she paused searching for the right word before she concluded “sad.”

Sam nodded “Call you tomorrow then, I’m at the VA in the morning but my afternoon is free”

“Will do…oh, and Sam?”

He turned around and Katie threw him the keys to the Q5 as he still hadn’t replaced his car. “Take this, but bring it back in once piece.”

“Cheers dude!” He beamed, catching the keys expertly before he headed out of the door.

Once he was gone, Katie walked over to the sofa and dropped down onto it, pulling out her phone. She knew it was late, but Tony answered straight away.

“Did it work?” She asked instantly.

“Did it work…” Tony snorted “I made the damned device, of course it did. JARVIS took everything off their system…he’s already sifting through and cross referencing… any mention of Barnes in any form he’ll find it.”

“Thanks Tony.”

“There is something he has found thought, that’s kinda interesting, but also very worrying.”

“What?”

“He found an encoded list of locations, locations for HYDRA bases across the globe. Curiosity got the better of me, and I ran a couple of cross checks on the bases that were already captured or infiltrated, and it matches 80%…”

“Yeah, there’s bases out there that didn’t fall… that’s what Fury’s doing, you know this.”

“Well here’s the thing…” Tony sighed “That 80% rallies to around 10 bases. One-Eye-Willy knew about 6, which he is currently working on with SHIELD or whatever they’re called now. The other 4 were unknown, until now.”

“Shit.” Katie sighed. If they had gone unknown, unchallenged, then it was possible that more of Hydra remained than they thought.

“Pretty much what Fury said when I called him.” Tony replied “Anyway, I think it’s time we put the band back together Kiddo…”

She groaned. “Steve already turned Fury down to find Bucky first.”

“Well, for once I’m inclined to agree with the Goth Pirate.” Tony continued “I think rounding the last of these bastards up is slightly more pressing than Spangles chasing his old school buddy.”

“Don’t call him that…” She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face.

“Fury says he’ll make contact with Natasha and Clint, no idea how to reach Point Break though. I called his girlfriend, or paramour, whatever, who said he was off chasing something, no idea what, but when he comes back she’s gonna tell him we’re looking for him.”

“I’ll talk to Steve…but I can’t promise anything.”

“If anyone can talk him round it’s you.” He said, his voice adopting a more sympathetic tone “You know, there’s no reason why we can’t look for Barnes along the way. I mean it’s all Hydra, right?”

“Yeah, good point. Let me talk to him. I’ll call you tomorrow, or later today, whatever.”

“No sweat, take care. Love you kiddo.”

“You too Tones”

Katie dropped her phone onto the couch and sighed. Time to tackle Steve. She unzipped her combat boots, shucked them off and headed up the stairs. She gently opened the bedroom door and saw Steve, hair damp from the shower, led on the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“Hey.” She crawled onto the bed next to him and propped herself up on her elbows so she could look at him.

“Hi.” He rolled his head to accept the kiss she offered as she reached a hand up to twine in the hair at the top of his head. “I’m sorry.” He leaned into her hand like a dog seeking attention. Katie opened her arms to let Steve snuggle into them, like a child, as she rolled onto her back, his head laying on her chest as her hand continued to tangle in his hair.

“Do you think we’re wasting our time? Looking for him?” Steve asked after a moment.

Katie hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Bucky has been brainwashed and tortured by HYDRA for longer than I’ve been alive. It’s going to take more than saving you from the river to bring back the man you knew” she took a deep breath “I think we’re going to struggle chasing someone as resourceful as he is when he doesn’t want to be found. And we may have another problem…”

“Like what?” He asked, frowning at her.

“I just spoke to Tony. J has been going through the info that we pulled from the servers. Apparently there’s a list of 4 secret Hydra bases that no one knew about, not even Fury, that didn’t go down when we took out SHIELD.”

Steve let out a groan “So now I have to choose, between Bucky and taking down what remains of Hydra…”

Katie kissed his head sympathetically as the turmoil raged within his brain. They couldn’t let Hydra get a foothold again. But he didn’t want to let Bucky down either.

“You know, going after Hydra might help.” Katie spoke softly “I mean, we have nothing other than vague ideas and supposition about where Bucky is or what he has planned next. We might find something along the way. In the meantime, Sam can keep working our current angle and line of thought.”

“You’re right.” he said after a pause “I’ve tried twice to bring these bastards down. I can’t let them slip through my fingers a third time.”

*****

“Gotta say Cap, you’re looking better than last time I saw you.” Tony grnned as they entered the lab in the tower.

“I feel it!” Steve smiled, shaking Tony’s hand.

“What you looking at?” Katie asked, nodding to the screen, taking in the map.

“Got JARVIS running a bit of an analysis on the bases we found out about. Terrain surrounding them, best places to land the jet, potential areas of weakness that kinda thing.” He said, “Could take a while but, best to be prepared with some form of plan I suppose.”

Katie turned to Steve, grinning, about to launch into a rendition of “Star Spangled Man with a Plan” but Steve gave her a filthy look, knowing full well what was going through her mind. She grinned at him innocently and he turned his attention back to Tony.

“Any news on the others?”

“Banner is due back at some point tomorrow. He’s at some kind of Scientist band camp…” Tony waved his hand. “Barton is on his way, but you already know that. As for Nat…well she said she’ll be here when she can…which just leaves Point Break to show, whenever he’s back from riding the rainbow road that is.”

“He’ll turn up.” Katie shrugged “If all else fails I’ll do what he told me to when we needed him.”

“Which was what?” Steve asked, looking at Katie, frowning. As if she knew how to contact him and hadn’t said anything…

“Stand on top of a tall building a shout.” she said, grinning. Steve gave a roll of his eyes as Tony snorted. “Although I think he may have been joking.”

“Maybe we should get him some kind of Bat Signal” Tony mused “but with a hammer instead of a bat.”

“No.” Katie shook her head and Tony pouted at her.

“Why do you always piss on my parade?”

“Because your parade is usually dumb. Look we’re gonna go upstairs and unpack a few things.”

“Sure.” Tony nodded. “Oh, happy said he’ll get your apartment in DC cleared over the next week, and I thought we could go for something to eat tonight. Do the whole…” he waved his hand in a circle motion as he looked back at the screen, “fmily thing.

“Sounds great.” Katie smiled, looking at Steve who nodded, thankful of something ‘normal’ to look forward to, and the pair of them made to leave.

“By the way, I renovated the living floors so your Penthouse has had a bit of a facelift.” Tony said. Katie stopped and turned to face him.

“What do you mean facelift?” She frowned “I liked my floor…”

“Yeah but when I did the rooms for everyone else they got new furniture so I ordered you some too. If you don’t like it you can change it, no big deal. I didn’t change the décor to much…I know how much of a princess you are about people touching your stuff”

“Princess here technically owns forty percent of this tower so…” She flicked him the finger and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah…there’s a spare suite for you anyway Spangles opposite Thor’s, you know, just in case you get pissed off with her. No one would blame you if you did…”

“You’re a dick.” She rolled her eyes at her brother and turned back towards the elevator.

In all fairness Katie did actually quite like the changes Tony had made. Her penthouse spanned the entire floor below Tony’s whilst everyone else shared a floor a couple of levels down with another Avenger. Perks of ownership, after all. There was a new coffee and cream coloured L shaped sofa in the room, a walnut coffee table replaced the glass one that had been there, and a brand new HD OLED TV adorned the wall opposite, along with a media system. A state of the art sound system was installed and the kitchen was completely new and had been knocked through to the dining area giving them a huge open plan space similar to the layout of the apartment in DC. There was frankly the biggest bed Steve had ever seen in the bedroom and the furniture was sleek, with a slightly smaller TV adorning the wall opposite the bed. The en-suite now sported his and hers sinks along with a double shower, a corner spa tub and there was a smaller bathroom just off the hallway along with another bedroom, a study and a balcony spanned the entire length of the floor, which was accessible from the main bedroom and the kitchen-diner. It overlooked the New York skyline and contained a small patio area and a hot-tub along with some outside furniture. But true to his word, Tony had kept the colour scheme. Different shades of blue throughout the bedroom, steel grey in the kitchen and warm coffee and walnut colours in the lounge.

Steve loved it.

As promised, late that evening, the two of them accompanied Pepper and Tony out for dinner. They had gone to Anatolia’s, an Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Brooklyn much to Steve’s delight. It had been a really nice evening, the 4 drinking and eating far too much but as Tony had pointed out, things were about to get a little bit crazy so who knew when the next time they would get chance to relax and socialise was.

“Other than your 30th that is.” he said, looking at Katie over his wine.

“So there is something planned…” she grinned.

“Maybe.” Steve shrugged. Oh, he had something planned alright. He’d spoken to Tony about it a week or so ago, the Inventor gleefully agreeing with his idea.

“Man, my little sis is turning 30 in 3 weeks…I feel so old.” Tony continued to grumble.

“You are!” she teased.

“Yeah but not as old as your boyfriend…”

“Well done, you almost went a full evening without mentioning it.” Steve dead panned, folding his arms.

“You know he’s technically younger than me, Tones.” Katie said “

“What?” Steve looked at her, “How do you work that out.”

“You were born in July 1918 right, went into the ice in, what, March 1945?”

“Yeah…”

“Woke up in May 2012. So when you count how many years you spent actually awake and living, and not taking a cold nap, you’re really only 29 this time round.”

“So Captain America is your toy-boy?” Pepper giggled. Katie shrugged and took a sip of her wine as Tony and Steve looked at one another, both of them wearing expressions of bewilderment.

“Wait, does this mean we can throw a Happy 97 minus 67 party for Spangles next year?” Tony grinned and Steve let out a groan.

“See what you’ve done?” he looked at Katie with exasperation, and she just shrugged.

The night ended with a few drinks in a bar before a car picked them up and the couples both bid each other goodnight before going their separate ways

“That was proper pizza.” Steve said as they walked out of the elevator into their living area, the panel sliding in place leaving the door hidden.

Katie laughed as JARVIS gently flipped on the ambient lighting. “Well you certainly enjoyed it…getting through 2”

“Yeah, think the last 3 slices were a mistake” he mumbled as she headed into the kitchen. “They’re sitting in me like a brick.”

“Awwww poor baby!” she mocked thickly. “Getting so old you can’t even have a few slices without indigestion.”

“Hey, I’m younger than you, remember?” He laughed as Katie pulled 2 beers out of the fridge handing him one as she glided past him to flop onto the couch.

“I’m gonna regret pointing that out, aint i?” She laughed as Steve nodded.

*****

Katie had a meeting with her Editors and New Business department the next morning and Steve had a job of his own, a different mission that he was fucking nervous as hell about. He asked JARVIS where Tony was, who located him in the large, open plan main common room area of the tower, the one Loki and the Hulk had decimated 2 years previously.

“Tony you got a minute?”

“S'up Cap?”

Steve took a deep breath “I err…” his palms suddenly felt sweaty. “You know I love Katie and…" He cleared his throat before he looked Tony square in the eye, surprised to find the man watching him, warmth across his features. “She’s the most important thing in my life, and I…well, I wanted to ask for your permission, to ask her to marry me.”

“My permission?” Tony quipped.

“Well I’d normally ask her dad but…”

Tony smiled and glanced down at hands before he looked back at the blonde haired man stood besides him. “You gonna do better than a ‘we can get married if you want’ outside your apartment door?”

Steve let out a sigh and shook his head “she told you about that?”

“In the hospital” Tony smiled.

“Not my finest moment” Steve rubbed at his temple.

“Oh I dunno.” Tony said pushing off the front of the Bar area where he had been leaning. “Given the fact you were inches from death she was pretty upset at the fact she told you to come back with a Tiffany special…”

Steve smiled.

“You got one yet?” Tony asked. “A ring I mean.”

“No.” Steve shook his head.

“Well it just so happens I know one of the consultants at Tiffany.” Tony smiled, and Steve looked at him, his face creeping into a smile as he knew that this was Tony’s confirmation he was giving him his blessing. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll make a call.“

The two men looked at one another, sharing a silent moment of respect before Tony reached out with his hand and Steve shook it, a shit-eating-grin spreading across his handsome features.

“Oh fuck this, come on Spangles, bring it in. I’m secure enough in my sexuality to hug another man.” Tony sniffed, and Steve stood up off the bar stool with a chuckle, the men exchanging a quick embrace, punctuated by a lot of back slapping.

“For what it’s worth…” Tony smiled as he stepped back, his eyes shining with emotion. “You make her happy, you treat her right, you put her first and I’ve never seen anyone metaphorically slap her back into place as well as you do….sorry, lot of dust in here…” he wiped at his suddenly watering eyes, water that may or may not have been tears before he took a breath and looked at Steve again “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather grant permission to.”

Steve smiled, his own eyes shining with emotion.

“And I’m pretty sure you’d have gotten it off dad too.” Tony nodded at him and Steve looked at the floor for a second before he glanced back up at him, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you Tony.”

*****

“What is this?” Thor’s voice was loud. “I can’t see them…”

“No you turn it…hang on” The 4 Avengers in the lab looked at one another, Tony grinning from ear to ear as Jane was trying to explain how to use the video call facility on her phone.

“He’s worse than you!” He grinned up at Steve who merely rolled his eyes as Bruce stifled a grin.

Eventually Thor’s face, or rather his left nostril filled their screen and all of them urged him to move the phone away. Finally he did so, and his handsome face beamed down at us all.

“Greetings!” he smiled “It is good to see you all again, Little Stark you look as radiant as ever.” “Thanks Thor!” Katie laughed as besides her Steve bristled a little bit.

“Jane says you need my help.”

“Yeah, we got a job Point Break.” Tony said.

“Is this to do with SHIELD and Hydra?” the God’s deep voice rumbled.

“You know about that?” Katie asked.

“Of course, it was all over the news. I watch that now, with Jane” he said, a glint in his eyes, “But that reminds me, I have a bone to pick with both you and the Captain…”

Steve frowned and looked at Katie, the pair of them sharing a glance before they looked back at the screen.

“I saw you both on the television fighting SHIELD alongside the Birdman…” Thor continued, ignoring Katie and Steve’s laughter as they both thought of Sam’s face if he could hear that nickname, “Why didn’t you call me? You know how much I love fighting.”

“They didn’t send for me either…” Tony said, putting his hand up.

“Call you, do you have a cell phone?” Katie looked at Thor.

“No, what for?”

She didn’t reply, instead she looked away trying not to laugh at the perplexed look on the God’s face

“We have a lot of loose ends to tie up.” Steve spoke, steering the conversation back to the purpose in hand. “Not all of Hydra went down when we took SHIELD out.”

Thor’s face split into a grin. “More fighting?”

“More fighting.” Tony said, as Banner let out a small sigh.

“Why is there always fighting?”

They explained the basics of what was going on to Thor, before he promised to join them as soon as he could and then Banner headed off to shower and to unpack following his trip.

“I’m going to head to the office for a few hours.” Katie said. Steve nodded.

“Tony and I have stuff to do.” he said simply, but met her gaze with a passive one of his own as she glanced at him, arching her eyebrow.

“Ohh…I get it…” she grinned, “You’re sorting my birthday surprise. Cute.” As she turned to go she walked straight into the desk behind her, jabbing the corner harshly into her thigh.

“You alright?” Steve asked, trying but failing to hide the chuckle in his voice at her clumsiness.

“Thanks for your genuine concern.” She grumbled, instantly rubbing where the sharp corner had dug into her. “Shit, that hurt…Jesus fucking Christ…”

"Ooooh, hey. You kiss Spangles with that mouth?” Tony raised an eyebrow at her

“Yes, Tony, I kiss him all over with that mouth.” She glared at him as she rubbed her thigh. “Every inch of –”

Tony clapped his hands over his ears. “Lalalalalalalalala! I can’t hear you!”

Once Katie was out of earshot, Tony turned to Steve “You get it?”

He nodded, holding up his mother’s ring that he had managed to slip of when Katie was sleeping.

“Alright, let’s go.”

They drove the short distance into Manhatten, and Tony parked his car up in a private space behind the department store they were visiting. Steve followed him into the store where they were greeted by a small, grey haired mousy looking man dressed in an immaculate 3 piece suit.

“Mr Stark, Captain Rogers.”

“Hi Robert.” Tony smiled at him, clapping Steve on the shoulder “Take good care of him, he’s shitting himself.”

Steve sighed and shook his head but the inventor had already wandered off to the other side of the store, examining something in one of the glass cases.

“It’s perfectly understandable to be nervous, it’s a big thing.” Robert smiled, gesturing for Steve to follow him. He did, as they walked across the store to a small room at the back. Steve walked in and dropped into a seat. “So, do you have anything specific in mind?”

Steve took a deep breath, “Something elegant, but flashy enough to be special, I’ve no idea really, other than she prefers white gold to yellow.”

Robert smiled at him, “White gold or platinum. Ok. Any idea on the cut of diamond?”

“Princess.” Steve said, smiling. That he did know, from way before they were even dating.

“Oh my god!” Katie said, looking at the gossip magazine Natasha was reading, as Steve peered up at them from the seat behind his desk. “That’s fucking hideous.”

Natasha snorted “20 carat apparently.”

“Who the fuck needs a 20 carat ring?” Katie shook her head.

“I dunno, not something Tony would buy for Pepper?”

“Nah he isn’t that tacky.” she shook her head “And I’d kick his ass, it’s so…garish.”

“I don’t think the cut helps” Nat said, holding the magazine up “It’s a Brilliant, so looks a bit..”

“Shit?” Katie offered and the girls laughed “Seriously, if I ever have a man who’s ready to propose you better tell him it’s Princess or bust…”

He and Robert chatted for a few moments, Steve assuring him that the budget was healthy, whilst the man headed off into the store and came back with a few options set on a blue velvet tray of sorts. Steve’s eyes were instantly drawn to one in the middle. It was held a large diamond and was set into an elaborate clasp which melted into the band which was studded with smaller diamonds.

“Ahh yes.” Robert smiled as Steve picked it up “That’s one of my favourites. It’s a Tiffany Novo…”

“Sorry, did you say Nova?” Steve’s head jerked up, a smile on his face.

“Novo, Captain.”

Close enough Steve thought as he grinned.

“Princess cut with a Pave set Diamond band in platinum. That one’s a 2.05 carat, but we can do it smaller.”

“No, this one is perfect.” Steve smiled, looking at him.

“Well, that was easy…” Robert quipped and Steve nodded, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah…” he let out a chortle of a laugh, “you had me at Novo.”

Robert frowned, but didn’t ask for an explanation. “That one there is Sixty-Six thou…”

“Holy shit.” Steve exclaimed, before hastily apologising for his outburst. He knew he had said he had a decent budget but…

“However, Captain, seeing as it’s you, I can shave twenty percent off that, leave my commission.” he man smiled as Steve began to protest “And offer you a further ten percent for Tony being a regular customer.”

“I couldn’t…”

“You guys saved my daughter’s life in New York.” Robert looked at him, smiling softly “She was in the bank.”

Steve took a deep breath and shrugged, a faint flush on his cheeks. “Just doing my job.”

“So am I. So we’ll call it forty, and I’ll throw in an extra eighteen months care package. So she can bring it in to be cleaned, repaired should anything happen to it over the next three years.”

Steve hesitated, it was a lot of money. He knew he had enough, more than enough. His wages from SHIELD had been generous, plus his Army back pay that Katie and Fury had secured for him had been piling up and earning interest, but he still wasn’t used to being able to just flash it around. Plus now he wasn’t technically earning either…but the more he looked at it, the more he just knew it was right.

And she was worth far more to him than anything money could buy.

“I’ll take it.” He nodded, decision made.

He handed Robert his Ma’s ring, which Katie had had resized to fit properly and Robert nodded, smiling as he slid it onto a measuring cone.

“You’re in luck Captain. We have one that size in stock so you can take it away today. Whilst we’re here, would you like me to give this one a polish?”

“Oh, err, yeah, great.”

He shook hands with the man and headed back into the store where Tony was now leaning over a cabinet, talking to a blonde haired assistant. He pointed at a necklace with an obscene price tag, and she nodded, picking it up and turning around.

“Something for Pep.” he said, gesturing to the gift as he nodded at Steve. “You know, just because.” he frowned “That was fast.”

“Found the perfect one.” Steve smiled “It’s called a Novo”

“Nova?” Tony looked at him, eyebrow raising as he smirked.

“No, Novo…although that’s what I heard too at first.” Steve laughed.

“Huh.” Tony said, as Robert approached them. He opened the box he was holding and reached in for the ring, setting it down on a velvet tray again to show to the men. It was even brighter in the store lights than in the room. Steve heard Tony whistle at the side of him.

“That’s a rock and a half Cap.”

“She’s worth it.” he shrugged, simply. “I just hope she likes it.”

“If she doesn’t we can exchange.” Robert said, as he finished his inspection and after making himself happy the ring was perfect he boxed it up and handed it to Steve in a Tiffany bag.

“Cap, you could propose with a ring pull and she’d say it was perfect.” Tony smiled.

“Now you tell me.” Steve said, handing over his credit card.

*******

“Shit, shit, shit…” Katie was panicking. Her ring was gone. Steve’s Ma’s ring. The one he had given to her at Christmas. The only real thing he had of his mom left. She’d ransacked the bedroom, living room, her office. “No,no…”

She made her way back into the kitchen, looking everywhere, before she headed into the bathroom. Nothing. She collapsed onto the closed toilet seat, her head in her hands as she began to cry when she heard the elevator door open.

Steve stopped as he walked into the living room, frowning at the utter chaos that greeted him. Cushions were all over the place, drawers in the large unit were flung open. Immediately he went on the defensive, knowing it was ridiculous as there was no way anyone could have gotten in here, but still…

“Katie?” he called. Katie’s head jerked up and she wiped her eyes

“Bathroom.” she said back, and he could tell from her tone something was wrong.

“Doll, what’s going on?” He strode into the bedroom and then stepped into the large en-suite. She’d been crying. “Baby?” he crouched in front of her.

“I…I’m so sorry…” Her voice cracked. “But your mom’s ring… I can’t…”

Steve felt a sudden pang of guilt, she was distraught, thinking she had lost it. He hadn’t thought of that.

“No, sweetheart, it’s ok, I’ve got it.”

“You do?” she frowned.

“Yeah.” he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled it out. “I was looking at it when you were asleep last night and thought it could do with a bit of a clean-up so I took it off and Tony took me to a place Pepper takes hers…”

Katie looked at the ring, before she felt her anger simmer over.

“You complete ass Steven Grant Rogers!” she yelled, hitting him in the chest “I’ve spent the last 3 hours out of my mind with worry…”

“I know, I should have told you but I wanted it to be a surprise.” Steve lied, hoping to god for once she wouldn’t see through it “I’m so sorry!”

She snatched it off him, returning it to its home and she glared at him, before looking down at it.

“Well, it does look nice and shiny” she said, admiring it and Steve let out a sigh of relief “Don’t touch my stuff.”

“Your stuff?” he looked at her as she wiped at her face.

“Yes, my stuff.” she repeated petulantly. “You gave it to me, remember. It’s mine.”

He was about to laugh and call her a brat, when there was a loud clap of thunder and a flashing of bright white light, punctuated by various rainbow colours, outside the bedroom window and they both turned their heads to look at it.

“Thor!” Katie said, jumping up and beaming.

“Am I forgiven?” Steve asked, rising to his feet. She turned and looked at him, rolling her eyes at the injured puppy dog eyes he was giving her.

“Pull another stunt like that again and I’m imposing a sex ban for a week.”

“Yes Ma’am.” he grinned, giving her a peck on the lips.

****

Thor’s arrival spurred the Avengers into getting down to some real planning, and when Clint arrived that day too, bringing with him the news that Natasha would be with them by the middle of June- she was on some kind of trip with Fury-those of them present began to take all the information they had, planning their first raid on one of the uncovered Hydra bases, this one being on the outskirts of Seattle.

“Your call Cap.” Tony looked at Steve, his jaw was twitching as he turned over the pros and cons of hitting the base whilst they were still one down on the team. Eventually he made his decision and looked around the team.

Suit up…” he said, straightening up “Wheels up in 20”

Behind him Banner groaned.

He needn’t have worried though, there was no need for a code green. In fact, it was a bit of a damp squib. There were minimum guards to take out and all in all it was relatively easy. There were also no computers, just a truck load of paper files which they meticulously boxed up and loaded onto the jet.

Over the next two weeks they hit the remaining unknown basis that they had discovered, and every one of them was the same. They were clearly never used as main strongholds, more like storage facilities if anything. Steve was frustrated, Katie knew that. But as she and Tony pointed out to him, they had a hell of a lot of information to comb through. They liaised with Fury, who had nothing new to add, other than that he would be in touch if his team needed help about the remaining bases in Europe.

As such they spent most of their time filtering through the information they had gotten from the bases, along with the boxes of files that Fury and Hill had pulled from SHIELD. Banner and Katie (when she wasn’t working) set up a simple filing system as they went along, cataloguing each bit of paper information so they knew where to find it in future, and could add to it as they went along.

There wasn’t much to go on, they didn’t find any new information, and nothing on Bucky, but there was one name that continued to crop up time and time again.

“Baron Von Strucker…” Katie said to the team which was congregated in the lab. “I’ve gone through the information available, including what was dumped on the internet when we released all the files…it isn’t pretty reading.”

Clint lounged with his feet up on the desk munching some popcorn. He offered it round and Tony took a hand full.

“Not likely to be where Hydra is involved.” he said, leaning against a desk, chucking the popcorn in his mouth.

Steve who had been flicking through a file clucked slightly with his tongue and shook his head “Says here he trained with Jasper Sitwell at the Preparatory Academy.”

Tony began choking and at first Katie thought it was reaction to the fact that Hydra had an academy but she soon realised, as he was pointing at Clint with a disgusted expression on his face that it was the popcorn. She grinned- Clint like his popcorn laced with cayenne pepper.

“What is wrong with butter and salt?” Tony gasped as Clint explained what was on the corn through his laughter. Thor reached over curiously and took a handful before declaring, much to Clint’s annoyance, that he enjoyed the spicy snack.

“He had his fingers in a lot of SHIELD pies” Katie continued “He was running the SHIELD STATION, which is the Scientific Training and Tactical Intelligence Operative Network, an R&D facility which was established to conduct investigations on the material retrieved from the ground during the battle of New York, you know, the shit Fury said he had destroyed?”

“Alright.” Steve nodded “Dig up what you can on it and then we’ll go from there. From the sounds of it he seems like the one we should be focussing on.”

Katie nodded.

“But not tonight.” Tony said, looking at Steve “I think we deserve a break, especially seeing as it’s someone’s 30th tomorrow.”

The room cheered and Katie rolled her eyes “Yeah yeah…don’t remind me.”

*****

Katie woke the next morning to soft kisses peppering the side of her neck and a deep burn growing at her centre as she was slowly pulled to consciousness. She let out a low moan and felt the lips at her throat spread into a sly smile

“You dreaming about me?” her Soldier whispered.

She bit her lip, arching her back and leaned into him as his hand splayed on her stomach, pulling her closer before she felt his fingers sliding down gently to the space between her legs. She didn’t say a word, she couldn’t. It was all she could do to simply groan as he gently pushed two fingers inside her, before he moved to massaging her spot. She pulled her legs together suddenly, thighs tightening as the muscles in her core clenched.

“You want more?” he asked, voice slow and deep.

She nodded eagerly, moving so that she was lay on her back and finally opened her eyes.

Steve gently moved, so his knee was positioned between her legs, sliding his T-shirt over her head before one hands moved up her body, tracing her ribs before he started to caress her breast, the other fingers continued to stroke inside, making her groan more and more. He placed a soft kiss on her jawline and smiled at her.

“Happy birthday, Gorgeous.”

His words undid her, and she let out a sound that was halfway between a gasp and a squeal, feeling for him under the sheets “Steve…” Every inch of her was on fire and he wanted him. “Please…” she begged, her voice catching as he moved over on top of her fully, shoving his boxers down and she let out a long shaky moan as he entered her.

“Good?” he asked, his breath a whisper and she nodded eagerly as he began to move. His thrusts were slow but deep and powerful, every roll of his hips sent his pelvis rocking up against her spot.

It didn’t take long at all, she was so close already and Steve watched her face, not wanting to miss the moment.

“Fuck…” Her head completely dropped backwards as her core spasmed again and then she came, hard, her orgasm rolling over her in such a way it had her clinging to Steve, crying out a strangled cry as he too reached his peak, her name tumbling from his lips.

The minutes passed as they lay curled in silence, completely blissed out and relaxed, hearing only each other’s gradually steadying breaths.

Steve’s hand gently stroked the arm that was draped over his abdomen before he gently moved her to one side, sitting up. He had things to do.

“Hey…” she began to protest before he smiled.

“I’m going to make you breakfast”

“You are?”

“Of course, it’s your birthday” He chuckled, from the edge of the bed where he was pulling on a pair of sweats.

"Pancakes,” she muttered hopefully.

He laughed. “Yup,” he said before lowering his lips onto hers. They shared a long, deep kiss that left them grinning like idiots as he pulled away, hopping off the bed and pulling on a t-shirt before leaving the room.

Katie stretched out and glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. It was half 9. A perfectly reasonable time to wake up on her birthday. And the best bit was, she had an entire day of being a spoilt birthday brat ahead of her! Steve was taking her to Coney Island in the afternoon, he had been dying to take her back to Brooklyn for ages and they’d picked today to go after the team had decided to take a break from the non-stop research and missions. Then later in the evening there was some form of meal booked, although where she had absolutely no idea. She’d been trying to catch everyone out about it for weeks but failed, miserably.

She was just about to get out of bed and into the shower when she heard her phone vibrating on the nightstand beside her bed. She reached over for it, and rolled her eyes. It was Tony.

“Happy birthday kiddo! How does it feel to be officially old?”

“You still got fourteen years on me, you dick!” she said, grinning before she yawned slightly “Why are you ringing me when you’re, what? A floor away?”

“Wasn’t sure if you’d be up or not.”

“Well there’s no worries on that account as for my birthday Steve got me a new alarm clock.”

“An alarm clock?” Tony said, his tone flat

“Yeah.” she said, biting her lip as she fought to keep myself from laughing “His penis.”

There was a pause “That’s gross.” Tony groaned and Katie laughed as he continued to complain “I mean it’s bad enough knowing that you two…you know, without being given some form of mental image like that…”

“Oh quit your whining!” she grinned “When you bringing me my present?”

“Ah well, you’ll have to come get it, it’s a bit big.”

“Big?” I said “It’s not a 16 foot teddy bear is it?”

It was his turn to laugh “No, although, speaking of big, stuffed animals, what did Cap actually get you?”

“You’re hilarious, and I’ve no idea. He’s making me breakfast at the moment.”

“More sausage?” he said sardonically.

“Pancakes, actually” she replied “Which is why I need to go and have a shower before he eats them all himself…”

“Alright, come up when you’re ready…” he said. “Not going anywhere…”

By the time she made her way into the large open plan living area, Steve had already completed 2 stacks of pancakes (his miles bigger than hers), a plate of bacon and was just setting 2 glasses of orange juice down on the breakfast bar in front of the 2 plates. He looked up and smiled, she was dressed casually for a day at the fair, tight jeans, boots and long white top, over which she wore an open beige half-sleeved cardigan, and her hair was pulled up into a high, messy pony tail. She looked beautiful as ever.

“You look lovely.” He said, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as she sat down. “So, how does it feel to be old?” He could barely get the words out without laughing, and she simply shook her head at his poor attempt at a joke

“You’re such a jerk!” She rolled her eyes, as he grinned.

They ate breakfast, and then like the big child she was she demanded to know where her presents were so Steve took her hand and led her into the living room where they were laid out on the coffee table.

She opened her gifts one by one, a few items of clothing, a pair of earrings, a new set of wireless earphones that she had mused over buying and then decided not to, a gorgeous white and rose gold diamond bracelet and a leather bound edition of the Wizard of Oz book to replace the one she had lost in Malibu.

“I saw that and couldn’t resist.” He grinned, as she grinned back “oh and here…”

This was the big one. He held out the envelope and Katie looked at him, gently taking it before she slid a finger under the top to rip it open. Steve watched as she pulled out the piece of paper and for the second time that morning her mouth dropped open in surprise. It was a print out of an itinerary leaving the 30th November and returning on the 14th December, with the locations being cities in Europe- Munich, Paris, Venice, Bruges, Dublin and London.

“2 nights in each…3 in London” Steve said as she glanced up at him, unable to speak “I didn’t know what else to do and I know you’ve wanted to go back to Europe for ages, and how much you love Christmas and the markets and stuff…”

“Oh my god, Steve… ” She glanced down at the paper, finally finding her voice. “This is amazing! I don’t know what to say.” Steve felt the familiar pink tinge growing around his cheeks before she threw her arms around him, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He smiled and then kissed her head before he pulled away. “Shall we go and see what outrageously flashy present Tony has for you?”

“Do you know what is is?” she asked.

“I might do…” he smiled as she stood up. There was no might about it. He knew what it was. And he knew she was going to lose her shit about it.

The two of them made their way up to Tony’s main living floor, her hand in his.

“You now I’m excited to finally take you to Coney Island.” He smiled as the door to the elevator shut.

“Excited?”

"Yeah, it’s just I watched Bucky take so many dates around there and I spent most of my time wondering when I was gonna’ get to take my own gal.” He admitted, bashfully.

"God, you’re adorable,” she smiled at him as the doors opened.

“Happy birthday!” Both Tony and Pepper chimed and she grinned, stepping out and into Pepper’s arms before Tony swept her into a hug.

“Well I don’t see any huge stuffed toys so…” she looked around and Pepper snorted.

“I talked him out of it.”

Tony handed her a small box and Katie looked at him.

“This isn’t big.”

“Brat.” Tony rolled his eyes and she smirked. She pulled the ribbon of the box, took the lid off and stared at the content inside. And as it dawned on her what it was she looked up at him, then to Steve, who was watching her, an amused expression on her face, then back at the box her eyes wide.

“You didn’t?” she looked up at her brother, her mouth dropping open.

Tony shrugged “Well you buried your Range Rover and gave away the Audi so…”

She looked at him for a split second before she squealed, threw herself at her brother and then turned on her heels, running.

Steve and Tony both watched her go before they turned to one another and followed her.

“You ready?” Tony asked.

“As I’ll ever be.” Steve nodded.

“Huh.” Tony nodded.

“Ready for what?” Pepper asked.

“Oh, they’re going to Coney Island.” Tony said as they headed down in the elevator, waving away her question.

Way ahead of them Katie burst into the parking lot and skidded to a halt. There, in all its glory was her own brand new Chevrolet Camero Exorcist, the car she had dreamed of since she was a teenager. It was gorgeous. Deep blue with cream leather interior. She unlocked it and sat in the driver’s seat, taking in the smell. The head rests were stitched with the Stark Industries logo and the dash was awash with every single button and function you could imagine.

“Fire it up.” a voice said, and Tony looked at her through the open driver’s side door. She did as she was told and grinned at the beautiful growling noise it made and squealed, feeling the leather of the steering wheel.

She turned to Steve who was stood leaning slightly on the door watching her.

“Hop in soldier!” she grinned, and he smirked, walking to the passenger side.

“Have fun…” Tony said, before he turned to Steve and looked at him, giving him a significant nod and a clap on the shoulder. Steve smiled back and then sank into the leather seat. He had to admit the car was nice. Katie pulled out of the space and gave a groan that was far too arousing than it should have been.

“Oh my god…” she murmured, as she pulled onto the street. The car purred and handled like a dream. As she put her foot down it sped forward, throwing them both back in the seat.

“Easy baby!” Steve chuckled as she laughed, speeding over Brooklyn Bridge. “You’re gonna get a ticket…”

She shrugged, not actually caring at that point.

*****

Steve wound up, pitching the ball which sliced through the bottles on the stall diagonally, knocking them completely off their pedestal and sending the ball through the back of the canvas booth as it ripped a hole clean through it. Steve bit his lip, not realising how hard he had thrown it and turned to look at Katie. She was doubled over, laughing at the look on his face, and then laughed even harder at the expression on the attendants face as he glanced from Steve to the bottles on the floor, to the hole in the canvas and back again.

“Which one do you want?” Steve asked, placing his arm around her as the attendant indicated for her to pick a toy.

“I think I’ll have that one…” she said, pointing to a brown bear that was dressed in a Captain America outfit, complete with helmet and shield.

Steve shot her a look and she held out her hands, protesting her innocence. “What?”

“Good choice ma’am” the attendant said, handing over the bear “He’s an all American hero is our Captain.”

“That he is.” She grinned “He’s incredibly handsome too I believe.”

Steve cut her off as he thanked the man before steering her away as he checked his watch. They had about an hour before they needed to get back.

“Come on, let’s take a walk.”

He led them both down to the sea front, pausing to get a hot dog each, and they walked, eating in comfortable silence. The sun was still warm in the sky, the sea was by their side and Katie was lost in her own little world until she realised Steve wasn’t besides her. She turned to look for him, wondering where he was and then spotted him a few yards behind her, crouched on one knee on the well-worn wooden slats of the boardwalk.

“I told you I was gonna ask you properly one day.” He cleared his throat, looking up at her with those blue eyes she loved so much as he held out his hand, opening the small box that was inside. The sun bounced off the surface of the ring and she couldn’t see it fully but she clamped her hands over her mouth. “I know we were a little too late to be each other’s firsts, well in some ways anyway…” he said, and Katie let out a choked giggle. “But I want all my lasts to be with you. Will you marry me, sweetheart?”

“And I told you I’d say yes one day!” She said, her voice cracking with emotion as she removed her hands shakily from her mouth and nodded. “Yes. Yes of course I’ll marry you.”

A few of the by-standers who had been watching started cheering as Steve jumped up, everything around him bar his girl faded to nothing as she threw herself into his arms. He picked her up, laughing like an idiot, his strong arms round her as he twirled her round, the pair of them sharing fast, rapid dizzying pecks on the lips as he held her off the floor. Eventually he set her on her feet, an utterly stupid grin plastered on his face as he looked at her, a grin that wasn’t going to fade any time soon.

“Do I errr have to put it on myself?” She spluttered a laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“What, oh, yeah, right…” he said, stepping back and removing the ring from its home, fumbling slightly before he managed to get it out, holding it in his right hand, but before he could do anything else she grabbed his left hand which contained the box before he could slip it back into his pocket.

“You bought me a Tiffany?” She almost shrieked as she looked at the distinctive blue-green box in her hand.

“Yeah, and if you give me a second you can see it.” Steve chuckled at her. Biting her lip she held out her left hand and he slid the ring onto her finger and she let out a loud gasp.

“Stevie, it’s beautiful.” She whispered, looking at it before she took his face in both her hands. “I love it.”

“I love you.” he murmured into their kiss. He grinned and dropped and arm round her shoulder as they made their way back down the boardwalk, back to the car, Katie’s eyes almost permanently transfixed on her ring.

“You definitely like it?” Steve asked, suddenly feeling nervous as he nodded to her hand

“It’s perfect, but how did you know?” she looked up at him as they reached the other side of the road

“Do the words, ‘big, fuck off Tiffany diamond’ ring any bells?” he looked at her, referencing their conversation outside his flat a few months ago.

“Not about the tiffany.” she shook her head “But the cut. It’s a princess one, the one I’ve always wanted.

“I have a good memory” he smiled, “And I picked that particular one because its a design called a Novo. I thought he said Nova at first.”

Katie laughed as she snaked her arms round his neck. “For the record, this was much a much better proposal than we can get married if you want….”

“Are you ever gonna let me forget that?” he sighed as he leaned down.

“I think you’ve redeemed yourself…” she said as her lips met his.

****

“Tony suggested we have a drink before we meet everyone.” Steve stepped into the elevator and Katie looked at him before she smoothed down her white dress.

“So where are we meeting everyone?”

“It’s a surprise, stop being so impatient.”

“Errr. You can’t tell me off, it’s my birthday.”

“Well stop asking so many questions and just enjoy your night!”

She didn’t get chance to reply as then the elevator doors opened onto the main party floor and there was a loud eruption of noise, making Katie jump.

“SURPRISE!”

Her mouth dropped open as she looked around the room. It was decorated in banners, balloons, and now paper streamers from the party poppers that had just been exploded by their friends. Clint, Thor, Bruce, Rhodey, Sam, Maria Hill, Tony, Pepper, Lawson, Evans, a whole host of people that worked in the offices and a familiar copper haired assassin stepped forward to greet her.

“Miss me?” Nat quipped.

“I can’t…” Katie began to speak, as she hugged her friend back “Oh my God…”

“JARVIS can you record this?” she heard Tony speak. “For this is a monumental occasion. She’s actually speechless…”

Katie turned to look at Steve who had been watching her reaction with a smile on his face. He loved seeing her happy, and he was pretty sure he’d managed to achieve that several times over during the day.

“Did you organise this?” she asked

“Why do you sound so surprised?” he chuckled, stepping forward to kiss her cheek “I had a little help but yeah, it was my idea. Happy Birthday baby.”

Before she could reply Natasha suddenly spoke very loudly.

“What is that?”

“What?” Katie asked, although she knew full well what Natasha was talking about.

“Errrr that?” She grabbed at Katie’s left hand.

The room fell silent.

“What does it look like?” Katie grinned at her

“Holy fucking shit.” Steve heard Clint chuckle as he slid his arm round his fiancées waist and the two of them exchanged a smile.

“We’re getting married” Steve grinned, finally tearing his eyes from Katie to look round the room. There was a pause and he locked eyes with Tony who winked at him before there was a flurry of noise and activity as everyone surged forward to congratulate them.

Tony reached them first and the two men shared a manly hug, which included lots of back slapping before he dropped a kiss to his sister’s cheek as Katie felt a hand grab hers. Natasha scrutinised her newest piece of jewellery before she looked up at Steve.

“You picked that all by yourself?” she looked up at Steve.

“I’m not completely useless” he rolled his eyes.

“I’m impressed Rogers,”

Sam clapped Steve on his back and as the two men began to banter, Tony pulled his sister into his side.

“Congratulations Kiddo.” He said, looking down at her hand “Looks even better on.”

“You’ve seen it?” She frowned.

“I may or may not have taken him to Tiffany’s…” Tony shrugged. “But I promise he picked it all by himself”

“So you knew he was gonna ask me?”

“He asked my permission.” Tony sniffed. “Well I might not be Dad but…”

Katie noticed his eyes were shining and she smiled at him as he continued.

“I want you to know,” Tony’s voice cracked slightly “I couldn’t be prouder of you, or love you more if you were my own.”

“Stop it, you’re making me cry!” Katie exclaimed, the tears in her own eyes gently spilling out as he pulled her into huge hug and she pressed her face into his chest. Eventually she stepped back, the pair of them wiping their eyes and Tony took the opportunity of a distraction, turning to a waiter.

Steve, who had been watching the two siblings saw the emotional exchanged and he stepped forward, as Tony was yelling about champagne for a toast.

“You alright?” Steve asked, gently wiping a tear off her cheek before he slipped his arms around her waist.

“Never been happier.” she beamed, honestly, her hands winding round his neck “ I know I said last year was the best birthday ever but this has smacked it straight out of the park.”

“Glad to hear it.” he smiled, leaning down to kiss her “I love you.”

“God job, seeing as I’m gonna be your wife.” she teased, her hand tangling in the back of his hair.

“Yeah…” he said, the shit eating grin spreading across his face again as he contemplated the words. His wife. “Yeah, you are”

Chapter 19

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu #mcu fanfic #captain america #chris evans #chris evans characters

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enkelimagnus · 3 years

Text

Delacroix

Bucky Barnes Gen, 2565 words, rated T

Jewish Bucky Barnes, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier: Episode 5 Truth

Bucky spends a few days in Delacroix with Sam and his family. On one evening, as they both have a beer before dinner, watching the sun set, they have a conversation about life, about therapy, about work.

TW: US healthcare system and the military industrial complex, mental health

Read on AO3

Part 33 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series

--------------

Sam’s family house is more of a home than anything Bucky’s lived in since he was deployed.

It’s warm and luminous, with big windows and light paint on the wood and the walls. There’s a poarch where they all end up sitting at the end of the day, when the sun sets over the bayou. The walls outside are blue and the roof is red. There are crayon drawings stuck with magnets to the fridge and mismatched furniture and containers. It’s been lived in, loved in.

A few days after his surprise arrival, Bucky stops feeling like a blood stain on the tapestry of life of the Wilson home.

Sarah’s nice and warm. He immediately takes a liking to her, and her to him, and he can see how much that infuriates Sam. What can he say? She’s a gorgeous woman, funny and bright and caring and her smile is honestly the kind that probably stopped a few hearts in her lifetime. Yes, she’s his sister, but he still has eyes, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least show appreciation. Besides, she seems to enjoy it. He’d stop the second he’d sense uncomfort.

He hasn't gotten to flirt and be comfortable with flirting in a really long time. It seems to be the same for her. What if they’re just… enjoying the flirtation? And enjoying infuriating Sam? Bucky considers it his duty as Sam’s friend.

Delacroix is unlike anywhere he’s ever been. It’s half an island and half a town. It’s relaxing. And the food… Bucky doesn’t think he’s eaten as much seafood in his life as he had in the past week.

It’s a slow end of day in Louisiana when Bucky and Sam find themselves sitting on the plastic chairs out back, with beers, watching the surface of the water. There’s music playing in the house, the kids are doing their homework.

It’s simple. Bucky breathes in and out, unobstructed.

He hears Sam’s intake of breath and knows a hard conversation is coming from that alone. No, that’s a lie. Sam’s shifted, ten seconds ago. He’s looked between his beer and the water four times in the past minute.

“We haven’t had time to talk about Madripoor,” Sam starts and Bucky immediately tenses.

He’d almost forgotten he’d told Sam they’d talk about that later. Because still, he’s not ready to talk about it. He’s not ready to talk about that part of his past. It’s still an infected wound in him. It’s still hurting. He can’t do it. He’s about to say that when Sam holds up his hand.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he says, surprisingly. “I don’t need to know shit if you’re not ready to tell.”

Bucky goes back to breathing. It’s a reprieve. Even if one day, Sam might expect him to be ready… it’s extra time. He’s so thankful for it.

“I’ll tell you though,” Sam keeps going. “You need a new therapist. Because if I know one thing, after everything, and what I saw in that precinct? it’s that Raynor’s not working for you. You need better. You deserve better.”

Bucky looks up at him then. Sam is looking at the water, but there is that look on his face. The look of determination, of drive, the look that Bucky knows… there’s no use in trying to go against what he is saying now.

No one has ever told him he deserved better.

He’s told himself that a few times, in the few moments where the clouds parted and he didn’t feel like the worst person in the world.

But he doesn’t think anyone has ever told him that. Even Steve. There was a couple ‘you deserved better’, but they were all in the past tense, all regarding Hydra, not Bucky’s current situation. Because his current situation is good. It’s great, compared to the past seventy years. Maybe even compared to what was there before. Because he doesn’t break his back in the factory during the day and in the docks at night anymore.

He’s so silent and shocked Sam just keeps going.

“And don’t give me bullshit about not needing help or whatever. I know your generation didn’t do therapy but that ain’t gonna fly with me. You deserve a therapist suited to your needs, and I know that’s gonna be hard to find, with your trunkload of decades of trauma, but we’ll find them.”

He says it with such determination, like it’s his new personal mission. He has much better to do than try to help Bucky more than he already has, and yet… Sam looks at him finally, for a long moment.

“Raynor’s not a bad doctor,” he says. “She’s just not the right fit. And that’s not uncommon. We just need to find you someone that’s better. And someone that’s not me. Because I can’t be your friend and your therapist, man. And out of the two, I’d much rather be your friend.”

Bucky’s still staring. He doesn’t know how to handle this. Nowhere in his databank of social interactions is there something that prepares him for this. He’s had long talks with people before, hell, even with fucking Zemo, but this is entirely different and he has no idea how to handle it.

“I’m sure you’re a great therapist,” Bucky says quietly after a moment, before he takes a big swig of a beer.

Sam chuckles, shaking his head. “You do realize I ain’t a therapist right? I’m a counselor.”

“You’ll have to give me the difference on that because we were still using alienist the last time I heard about psychoanalysis,” Bucky points out.

“There isn’t much of one. I guess I’m more about… finding practical solutions for people to deal with their trauma than really knowing the root cause of it. Probably because, since I worked with the VA, I knew what the root was.”

Bucky hums, nodding. That makes sense to him. More than the ‘how does that make you feel’s. “Either way, I’m still sure you’re a great counselor.”

“It ain’t difficult, with your experience,” Sam shrugs, watching him. “You don’t know better, old man.”

Bucky snorts at that, watching the water again. Sometimes, his eyes catch motion, but he’s never sure if it’s wildlife under the surface or just a trick of the light.

AJ and Cass seem to be debating with their mother whether they can finish their homework later, after dinner. Bucky barely knows them, but he already knows it won’t actually get done if they follow their plan. Kids are kids. Bucky’s sisters could never finish their homework after the radio show either. Too distracted, too tired.

He turns his attention back on Sam after a moment.

“Walker is in a bad shape,” Bucky says quietly. “Now, and before Hoskins died too. The second we saw him in Germany, I felt it. That guy didn’t get help.”

Sam sighs heavily. “Yeah. Not enough of them do, when they come back. You wouldn’t, if you weren’t forced to.”

Bucky can’t deny it. “Yeah, but I’m 107.”

If Sam noticed the year added to his age, he doesn’t mention it. At least for now.

“Some of it hasn’t changed that much,” Sam explains. “The army… You know that culture of toughness, right? Gotta be strong, gotta be a man. Can’t cry, can’t show you’re struggling. I’m sure they had that shit too, in your day, probably even worse.”

He’s not wrong. There were a lot of issues in his day but that was part of things. Emotional outbursts that weren’t from anger were frowned upon. Once they got to the war, it was even worse at first, until it started really getting hard. And then there were two options. Either you fucking cry with your buddies, or you end badly. Bucky had Steve, and the Howlies.

“Men like Walker… Because they’re these tough white guys, they’re encouraged to be like that. Aggressive, emotionally-closed off, fight-hungry. They’re the ones that shove you and call you a pussy for not laughing at their frankly horrible offensive jokes. It’s like they think the trauma we all face just won’t touch them. Or that they can’t show anyone it touched them. So they keep it all in. And the only way they get to be… emotional is in combat.”

Bucky nods quietly. They’re worse off than he thought.

It wasn’t good in his day either, but it just feels worse now. It churned and churned and got bigger with every spin, and now it’s all a giant fucked up stick of trauma cotton candy, all twisted in itself and sticking to itself.

“When I work for the SRT… Sometimes I see these kids,” Bucky mumbles. “They’re what? 22? And I ask them why they’re here, you know, try to pass time. And they tell me they enlisted for college. Or healthcare. And it’s…” He closes his eyes. “It’s been eighty fucking years…”

He takes a swig of the beer again, shaking his head. “When the crash hit, in the 30s, things were bad. No one could afford shit, there was polio, there was syphilis… It was really bad. And they made plans. They tried to get healthcare on the way, and they half succeeded. And more than like… two thirds of the population was for it too. And we had basically none of the resources we have now.”

He looks up at Sam for a moment. “It hurts to see… that it’s still… We’re still here. At least on that issue. On other stuff… Rights and all, that’s getting better.” He finishes. “But healthcare… and college…” He shakes his head. “It’s criminal. That’s what it is. It feels criminal.”

Sam bumps his shoulder with his fist, chuckling. “Don’t say shit like that next to journalists, they’ll say the Soviets put communism in your brain along with the murdering.”

Bucky chuckles at that. “Nah. That was all America. Living in it. Dying for it.”

Behind them, AJ and Cass have lost their battle of wits with their mother.

“You happy with what you’re doing?” Sam asks after a moment.

Bucky takes a deep breath. The answer is easy. “No,” he mutters. “But I don’t have a say in the matter. Until they decide I’ve done enough to undo the damage I perpetrated as the Soldier… I’m gonna be clearing Hydra safehouses. And after the shit I pulled with Zemo, I’m gonna be at it for a while longer, I think. But… I was expecting that.”

He can feel Sam’s eyes on him. “You knew what would happen.”

“Yep. On all accounts. With the Dora Milaje, with you, with Walker, with the U.S. government, and the GRC, and everything… Still did it.”

Sam huffs loudly. “Stubborn ass.” He shakes his head. He’s smiling, beautifully, brightly.

Bucky smiles at that. “You know it. Wouldn’t be alive without it.”

The sun is starting to set over the bayou. Every evening, Bucky finds himself thinking he’s never seen anything quite like it before.

“Whatever happens,” Sam points out after a moment, looking down at his empty beer bottle. “You got a couch here. Somewhere to crash. Somewhere to rest. I don’t know what your situation is, up north.”

Bucky sighs a little. “I got a house,” he answers, looking back at him. “A townhouse, in Brooklyn.”

Sam’s eyebrows rise up to meet the descending sun. “Well excuse us, mister.” He teases.

Bucky shakes his head. “It’s not like that,” he starts. Sam looks even less like he takes him seriously. “It’s a former Hydra safehouse,” he adds, and now his friend’s eyes get a little sadder, a little darker. “The army got tired of me taking space in their housing, so the second we raided a place within proper commute distance, they handed it over to me.”

Said like that, it sounds even worse than it actually was.

“It wasn’t like.. Full of Nazi or Hydra shit, or anything. It was just a house. They got rid of the bodies.”

The emotional journey on Sam’s face as he talks is worth a good dozen of sunrises.

“And you live there?” Sam asks. He’s struggling not to let his bewilderment and horror show, but he’s failing.

It makes sense. It sounds like an absolutely terrible situation to be in. It is an absolutely terrible situation to be in. As much as owning a townhouse in Brooklyn can be terrible.

It’s been about four months now since he signed those papers and moved his bag of things into that pretty house with the marks in the doorways and the basement he still hasn’t stepped foot in. And now that he’s been away long enough…

He guesses he kinda misses it.

He doesn’t miss the house in itself, much. He does miss… everything else though. Charlie, Miriam, the neighbor whose name he still doesn’t know, the familiar commute, the Chinese place he gets a lot of very late night food at, the proximity to his childhood streets, the way life feels there. He misses his night jogs in the relative quiet. He misses the weather, and the oven he baked kugel in for the first time.

Brooklyn has become familiar again, in all of its differences with his memories.

And he didn’t even realize it was happening.

“You should come, one of these days,” Bucky shrugs. “I have a couple guest bedrooms.”

Sam punches him lightly in the shoulder. “Fancy ass ‘couple of guest bedrooms’.” He teases and Bucky smiles. “So I’m guessing I should try and find some good therapists for you in New York then,” he adds.

Bucky shrugs lightly. “I feel like… I have some stuff tethering me there.”

Sam’s expression shifts for an instant. “Like the SRT?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Nah. Like my childhood congregation, that somehow still exists, and has a shul not too far from where I live.” He points out.

“Shul?” Sam asks.

Bucky smiles lightly when he looks up at him. A few days ago, Sam spoke of his teetee and Bucky probably made the same face Sam’s making now.

“Synagogue,” Bucky explains. “Jewish temples. Shul’s yiddish.”

Sam makes a small ‘ah’ sound and nods. For a moment, they’re silent again. The noises of the world around them aren’t threatening to overwhelm them though, they’re… comforting. A warm tapestry in the background.

“You’re Jewish, I take it?”

“No, I’m Mormon,” Bucky replies with the straightest face he can muster before chuckling.

Sam punches him again, a little harder this time. “Come on, dude.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m Jewish.”

That’s the first time he says that out loud in… He’s never said it like that ever. This is the first time in his life that he says it that way. The first time he’s not afraid of the outcome of such an admission.

It’s a heady, wonderful feeling. He never thought he’d ever be comfortable enough to do that. Somehow, he might have Zemo to thank for that. Zemo and his fucking questioning. Not that he’s going to be asking much more questions from the Raft.

He’s Jewish. That’s a truth that doesn’t deserve to be hidden right now. Not when he can carry it. Not when he is strong enough to bear it proudly. He feels like his heart is going to burst with something he cannot name.

“Did Steve know?”

Bucky bursts out laughing.

#bucky barnes #sam wilson #jewish bucky barnes #jbu #marvel #mine #fic

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sillyfudgemonkeys · 3 years

Note

so i just heard on twitter P5S had some development problems, thus the issues with the story, the lack of character development, and the switch performance. It would explain quite a bit, but I haven't really heard anything from legit sources. Did you ever see or hear anything about that?

I....I’ve been very sparse on Twitter today tbh. So I’m a bit behind. So I don’t know the tweet you’re referring to. ;w; orz

(oh boi, under the cut cause weeeeeeeeee 8U buckle up novel time)

If P5S had development problems with story/chars, that would’ve been with the JPN release. Which might explain why it started developing before P5R but released later (doesn’t help that Atlus apparently just signed off on the story rather than write it themselves >.> think that info in particular can be found on another personacentral article). But AtlusUSA isn’t involved with writing the story, just translating/localizing it.

Switch performance, I doubt AtlusUSA is the one who is in charge with fixing that too. If anyone is gonna patch that mess, that’s gonna be KT (hell not even AtlusJPN, cause KT is who developed it iirc). Now I DO know that AtlusJPN is working on a patch for having SMT3 run better but that’s not P5S sooooo 8U

Now my personal theory/theories about why P5S was taking so long was:

Covid

Localization rights (KT America vs AtlusUSA/AtlusWest, I’mma still use USA screw west sorry its one letter too long and I’m lazy >8U)

PS5

Swap PS5 out with Steam and there we go. Should’ve seen the hints before but yeah....we’ll get to that in a bit.

Covid really screwed a lot of things up, like REALLY REALLY. I don’t think I can stress this enough. It pushed back a lot of stuff because people couldn’t gather. Not just “in public” like literally at work. It took awhile for people to implement ways to still do their job (either by working from home, or having a small bubble). We know anime and dubbing got delayed because of that. Hell some games got delayed because of that too! So I cannot stress enough how much Covid screwed everything up. But how much did it screw everything up? Well......that’s when I decided to look at the past few games AtlusUSA had localized. The result was usually 5-7 months, that includes PQ2 which infamously didn’t have a dub (ah should’ve included SJR..... uhhhh oh same time, 6 months). Anyway I predicted August-November if they skirt the marketing, otherwise we’d get it early 2021. And a-yo wouldya look at that~!

Anyway that post was in July, by that time I think companies figured out how to safely gather for dubs. But keep in mind AtlusWest was also doing other translations beside english now so........yeah......people who say the dub is the reason for the delay, I don’t think that’s right (heck even in this case I don’t think it’s right). Considering that SJR/PQ2 both took about the same time, I have a feeling that AtlusJPN doesn’t want AtlusUSA to release their game until a set time (thankfully it seems that might be changing with SMTV tho!)

So we’ve addressed Covid, and my mini conspiracy of AtlusJPN forcing a later release date on western releases..... What about Localization rights? So.... ok, there was a post I wanted to make sometime around 2018 but never did. In around 2018 BBTAG was coming out right? So fun fact, at Acen I was there and lo and behold a rep from Arcsys was there showing off an arcade of BBTAG~! And not just any rep, a marketing rep iirc! Well let’s just say I had a few questions, as a fan I’m not a reporter fksjdkflja didn’t come in swinging with a recorder sorry (anyway the questions were something about VAs like getting old Kanji/Chie/Teddie back, changing Aigis’ name back to Aegis....iirc Teddie wasn’t out yet so yeah I’d ask why the wishy washy stance but ey didn’t know that info yet, if they’d be working on Arena 3 rather than AtlusUSA, yadda yadda). Well the thing that stood out was when I asked if Arcsys’ new western branch would be in charge of localizing this hypothetical Arena 3 or any other Persona Fighting game if made. And he said “yeah, if Arcsys JPN works on it, we’ll be localizing it!” Now, that was then this is now. Things change, it’s also a diff company compared to KT so things might be different. (btw Arcsys didn’t have a western branch with Arena/Ultimax so yeah obvie AtlusUSA did the localization). Or it could’ve been bad info. Or it could’ve been that-that was the case but it isn’t now. But here’s the thing, KT does have a western branch (that or google is lying), and IF, IF what Arcsys’ rep says applies here....then there might have been a dispute between two companies on who might localize it going on behind the scenes. Which might explain why AtlusUSA wasn’t talking about P5S cause....yeah....you don’t really talk about that stuff when it’s in dispute. >.> BUT that’s just a theory. 8U A SILLY THEORY! Thanks for-oh wait I have one more. 8U (but low key that could’ve been happening behind the scenes, so like I wouldn’t be surprised, but the next theory also makes sense why it was delayed so eh, could be both, could be one or the other doesn’t matter)

So the last theory I had was originally the PS5. So like, we didn’t know till very late that when the next gen consoles were coming out. :) Thanks Sony. :) And Microsoft. :) *cough* Anyway, so I thought maybe AtlusJPN wanted to do an update or something and might’ve been holding AtlusUSA back so they could do that because YEAH WHY NOT! ANYTHING GOES ATM! But....BUT..... after the leak.....it made sense. I wouldn’t be surprised if they held back because of.....Steam. sajdkfla Esp with those teases of other games coming to Steam....I can’t believe I didn’t see it kdljsaf It also makes a lot of sense timeline wise. So we know that CHN/KR got their own versions of P5S right? Yeah so those dropped around the time of P4G’s WW release on Steam (4-5 days after P4G iirc). Now, CHN/KR tranlsations are probably faster than the western releases for a number of reasons, similar cultures (so localizing isn’t as bad), and the languages are closer than their romance counterpart so it’s probably easier translating too (they also don’t have to dub but as SJR/PQ2 have shown that’s a non issue). But here’s the thing, AtlusJPN wasn’t expecting such a success on Steam....and then it happened. So that leads me to believe that they probs got to work right away on a Steam release (or at least got more serious about it). And now all of it is probably basically done (translating, dubbing, Steamming, yadda yadda), now they just have to market it, and VGA is the best time this late in the year.

*inhales* So yeah, that’s my theory on what happened. Again, it’s a theory, all speculation from info I have available. Not saying any of it is true, it’s just what sounds plausible.

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silver-wield · 4 years

Text

Final Fantasy 7R review

I finished the game this morning and I already have regrets that there’s nothing left for me to do besides replay and anxiously wait for news of the next installment. I want more. I want to not have finished it yet. I need to know what happens next, not just in the updated story, but with the game mechanics, too. I’m happy the team is taking their time to make the game as good as it deserves to be, but on the other hand I wanna throw a toddler tantrum demanding the rest of my game!

Beware, spoilers.

The bad stuff

To be fair, not a lot from where I’m sitting. I’ve seen people bitch about textures and how the scrap yards don’t look dynamic enough and some stuff is flat, but seriously, why are yall looking at the walls? They’re the least interesting thing about the game and you’re just nitpicking. The graphics overall were amazing and I stopped multiple times just to rotate the camera and take in this massive city we actually get to really explore for the first time ever!

I have to admit a slight disappointment in the amount of space, verbally, that was happening. There were times where I expected characters to make comments and they said nothing. Things were overlooked or just not addressed and it wasn’t even anything plot related, just a point where there could have been dialogue and it didn’t happen. It wasn’t often, but those few times the air was left dead I noticed it. The most notable time was in chapter 17, right after Sephiroth appeared on the gangway. Now, I get them being too shocked to say anything when he’s right in front of them, but after, when they separate and fall into two groups? Nothing? No comment? Tifa, I definitely expected to say something in a shocked tone, but even after they found Cloud again, she didn’t mention it. It was like the moment didn’t happen. I know the other times nobody else but Cloud saw him, but this time they saw him, and he’s linked to Tifa’s past too, so she definitely should’ve had some kind of comment in that empty space.

That was the only major point, but other small ones were when people were talking and one character remains silent. The only one I expect to never speak if he doesn’t have to is Cloud. Because it’s Cloud. Everyone else should have something to say. Like when they climbed the stairs. If you took the stairs - I was all done in from so many fights and just wanted a break - then you got hilarious commentary from Barret, Cloud and Tifa. It showed how close they’ve become. Cloud made a joke! His second one of the game! If you missed the first, it’s likely because you obsessed over him going on about money all the time and saying that’s all he cares about when he’s with Tifa. So, yeah, after being shown how the group can talk to each other and banter I’m hoping Square adds more chatter to the next game. I know some people prefer less chatter, but this is a group of people who are supposed to be shown as friends, so conversation is important.

The other thing that got on my nerves was the mechanics of the weapons upgrade. Unless I missed a shortcut, having to go out of each one and then into the next one instead of just switching over to the next weapon’s skill tree. It took a long time to level things up and I wish there was an option in the auto to just unlock every skill one at a time, so they’d do it on auto without me having to go in there. And the ATB. That got on my nerves. I’m lazy af, so I’d like for action to just pause whenever someone’s atb fills so I can give them a command and then go back to the battle instead of having one eye on all the atbs. It’s probably more classic than Square wants to go with it, but having that as a battle option would be nice and a further throwback to the old style of gameplay.

The good

Everything from chapter 3 onwards. The intro chapters were good, too, but I really just wanted to dig into the game and that didn’t happen until chapter 3. The VAs killed it! Graphics were amazing! The weapon abilities were fun and added something different to the regular gameplay style of just grabbing the next strongest weapon. Side quests were enjoyable and I wish there was more of them, especially a save the citizens for after the plate fell. That really would've hammered home the tragedy.

The story

I’ve seen people - mostly OG fans - bashing the new elements. Sure, the whispers are a weird angle to come at it from, but the explanation for them, that they’re trying to maintain the OG storyline, made for an interesting twist on a 25 year old story. Sephiroth’s early appearance was just something that had to happen, along with a Jenova fight, because, come on, this section of the OG was like 3hrs worth of content and this is 40hrs, so ofc they had to include new things and it matches with the new storyline and I think people need to release their death grip on the OG storyline and enjoy this game for what it is.

I found the ripple effect(?) interesting too. From what we learned, the OG happened in the future. If things hadn’t changed that’s the future everyone was heading towards. Ok, cool, pretty simple.

This timeline had small changes. Biggs, Wedge and Jessie survived!? Or did Wedge finally get shoved off a building at the end, I really couldn’t tell if he bought it that time, but if he did I’m mad cause he was adorable. The plate falling didn’t have as big a casualty number as originally, either. And Hojo almost spilled the beans to Cloud early, but was cut off, and that’s the other thing Cloud ignored in dialogue afterwards, but it’s Cloud, so we’ll give him a security pass for that. The others ignoring his Ptsd induced freak outs isn't cool though and I expect Square to fix that level of callousness towards him from the others.

Those are the only two changes from the OG. Sephiroth showing up early instead of in Nibelheim doesn’t really matter. He’s his usual cryptic asshole self and his goal is unchanged. The team just knows he’s the big bad earlier now and have a solid goal instead of just randomly wandering after they leave Midgar. So, yeah, does Biggs, Wedge and Jessie living make a big difference overall? Will that ripple from them being alive make further changes?

We also saw that Zack survived because of our team, but the Zack in their timeline is still dead. I think we saw it this way because the planet is trying to find a way to prevent being hit with Meteor and ending up with geostigma, so the OG timeline, everything was still bad. Our timeline gives possibilities for a slightly better future and then the timeline behind it - the one with Zack - offers even better odds, not that we’ll see that. That’s the timeline I think Aerith will live through, so that way Square can say Aerith lives, just not in the game we play now.

Shipping

I’m not into wars, so if you love Aerith, cool good for you, I was focused on building affinity with Tifa and Square didn’t disappoint! There were so many romantic moments between them! And damn do they have chemistry! I squeed at such a high pitch the dog next door started howling! All the small touches, longing looks, affection, support, trust and OMGOSH IT WAS JUST THE BEST!!! They were so damn cute!!

I have no idea how the game changes if you focus on Aerith and to be honest I don’t want to. I think that’s what I love about the options for that. You can choose and no one can say your choice isn’t valid.

One thing though, I would like an end to it because it’s 25 years of people arguing and it’s made the entire fandom toxic af and it’s actually the reason I avoid most of the final fantasy discourse because people can’t be civil to each other. Square should finally say once and for all that Cloud/ is canon and the other isn’t, instead of throwing a bone to them and being all “maybe if things were like this”, like no, pull on your big boy pants, Square, man tf up like Barret on a mission, and tell people who is the canon pairing in this damn game so people can just stfu and enjoy playing it without getting flamed.

This is why I want a FF8R because at least there’s no doubt who the couple is in that one.

Smol stuff

I’ve seen complaints about new characters being 1 dimensional, but they’re new characters in a game series that’s a trilogy, so they’re likely gonna appear again. Roche seemed added not just to give Cloud a boss to fight in the bike event, but also to show there’s other SOLDIERs beyond Cloud and Zack and the ones from Crisis Core, which not everyone has played.

Same goes for Leslie. I liked that dude and I’m interested to see him pop up again. His design wasn’t the typical bad guy henchman, easily disposed, thank you very much for playing. He has a story and I’m betting that’s not the last we see of him.

Again, same goes for Cloud’s infantry buddies. I’ve not played CC, but I get they’re from that, so will we see them again at some point? What about other CC characters?

Best Bits

Cloud in a dress. “Nailed it, thank you, moving on.”

Cloud dancing. Boy got moves and I wanna see him dance again!

Cloud/Tifa. Complimenting her like a smooth mutherfucker.

Cloud/Tifa Battle couple. They were my absolute favourite fighting combo and definitely kicked all the ass!

Cloud/Tifa. All the shipping bits, but especially jumping off the train and then trusting her to go kick Corneo’s ass. That’s how you show you know your girl

Wedge. Kitty momma

Biggs death. Damn you, Square, you got me all choked up.

Red. Specifically the bit where he highfived Barret with his tail lool

Barret. “Damn it, Red.”

Reno. Just Reno in general killed me. Love his conscience though and that he’s not a 1 trick pony.

Tifa/Aerith. Had more chemistry than Aerith/Cloud. Yeah, I said it.

Barret and Marlene. Such a good daddy! His expression with her was like a whole different person!

Aerith bitchslapping a would-be rapist with a chair.

Cloud/Tifa/Aerith teamup to threaten Don Corneo’s balls - though I only include Aerith since she was there and she was about as threatening as a cupcake.

Conclusion

I want moar! I really hope the next one comes out soon! It’s not the same as OG, but has the best bits of OG along with something new to bring in a new generation of fans. The alt timeline angle feels fresh and open to possibilities and I’m excited to play this game for what it is, instead of comparing it and demanding for the OG like a crusty whisper lool

#final fantasy 7 remake #ffviir #FF7R review spoilers #FF7R spoilers #FFVIIR game review #I fucking loved this #I'm just sad it's over for now

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imthepunchlord · 4 years

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For all the new things, I kinda wished they showed all of this before SwSh was released, now it's a bit more pricey and I feel like it's kinda rushed. Also for the Mystery Dungeon, I'm excited for that bit I really hope that include all the starters and non starters as well in the final.

I wish they went ahead and pushed back SaS so it’d be released 2020, with this expansion back already included, and the new places we go to can be unlocked during our adventure or as postgame. I would’ve fine waiting and would’ve preferred it, especially to give them a chance to do more with the main story which is pretty weak and made little sense, and Rose was a very forced in villain. Also made no sense in the story climax. Watching playthroughs and seeing the climax of SaS I’m just...

Its also frustrating that you get to hear about things happening and not actually witness or help. Like, its nice having adults acknowledge that you’re a kid, don’t worry about it we’ll handle it, but at the same time, that’s a chunk of story we have a right to see, and we’re kids in this game, we don’t always do what adults say we should follow and see what’s going on. That could’ve been something optional. Go to event to see what’s happening or skip it to go to the next gym.

And this is turning into a rant so I’m going to put this below. For those that just want to read my comments on Mystery Dungeon, scroll down till you get to the Pikachu gif, I’ll talk about it below.

Also there could’ve been improvements with the rivals. Marnie is suuuuper intriguing and I love her, Bede I also like though that’s more me missing mean rivals and man, he’s a brat and I say that with affection. But in the grand scheme of things, they felt pointless. More could’ve been done to include them. And Hop. God, Hop. I know people like him, but from what I’ve seen, he seems like the most annoying “friend rival” made to date. He does not know what personal space is. He waits for you in front of gyms. He waits for you on new routes. He has to comment on almost every move you make in your fights with him.

I don’t even own the games but just from the playthroughs I’ve watched I’m just... go away. Leave the lead alone. Everywhere you turn, he’s there, waiting for you. It also feels like he only got endorsed because he’s Leon’s younger brother. There’s nothing about him that I like. And, I don’t know why he gets the other wolf legendary? What makes him worthy?What makes him want to be a Professor in the future? That’s out of nowhere.

Something more could’ve been done with Hop, maybe an arc of him resenting you a little because every match you beat him, and he’s the Champion’s younger brother and you just seem to stay ahead. Maybe let us have more scene of him talking with Sonia since he’s going to be her future assistant. If he’s going to be constantly stalking us and waiting for us, then yeah, let’s at least better build up where his character will go.

Then there’s the issue of pokemon. With it pretty much confirmed they just reused models from gen 7, yeah, there’s no reason to not include more pokemon. If not the National Dex, which wouldn’t bother me too much, then go ahead and add about half. At most, I’d love pokemon included that would make the most sense. Like, lion is a big symbol throughout all of Europe. There should be a lion in Galar, either Litleo or Shinx returning if not a new lion pokemon. And with the expansion packs, yeah, they’re already adding 200 each pack.

And a lot of this dlc should already be in the game. If 400 pokemon are going to be added in, they should already be there. The new Giga forms should already be there and we should’ve seen the Giga Venusaur and Blastoise the same time as Charizard.

I’m also salty that there’s no going to Kalos. Maybe it’ll be a future expansion, and that’s a dlc I wouldn’t mind, but those are two very linked countries they’re based on. And Galar truly isn’t a big region. The Wild Area isn’t as big as it could be. Like, it doesn’t have to be BotW big, but it could’ve been bigger than what we got. And if not expanding the Wild Area, we could’ve had Kalos as a new region to go to, and more gyms for us to do.

ALSO.

I am not a fan of you refacing the gyms and having them act as your “Elite Four”.

They’ve already been fought. Aside from the first two, you’ve already fought all the star Giga forms they have. Its a really lazy decision. At least, you can have the two first gym leaders come in since you didn’t fight their star Giga forms, and include the other two version exclusive gym leaders as the other two. Just for some freshness in this final challenge.

I know they’re not big on voice acting, but, they should’ve put some form of VA into these games. Its a little awkward to get animated cutscenes and there’s no voices coming forth. And its at its worst when you get to Piers and you see him singing away, I presume loudly, into his mic and its just awkward cause there’s no voice and you can hear him tapping his foot to the music and its just so off putting to watch cause something is missing: a voice! And you know what’s the kicker? Pokemon has included voice acting before.

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There is no reason to not do something similar, at least for Piers’ intro so its not so awkward to watch.

And then post game... the official post game... I, I honestly can’t say what is even going on? Those two blonde bimbos, those designs, who agreed to pass them? For sword guy, I don’t know whether I should be laughing or uncomfortable. Its like, an in between especially when his hair flops around. Also, their reasoning, they’re causing chaos in Galar because they didn’t like a book Sonia wrote???

The villains in these games are just so dumb.

Like, Rose had a good motive but, he is still forced in. And he activates the climax for no reason. He was promised by Leon that he would help with Eternatus, all he had to do was wait through one match. One match that would’ve been 30 minutes at most, roughly. Yet he couldn’t wait for one match and went ahead and woke up Eternatus, does a video asking for help, and when you arrive, stops you for a battle that doesn’t make sense to have cause he asked for help why is he holding you up with a battle??

And Team Yell. Supposed to be like, a 2nd Team Skull and these guys could dream to live up to Team Skull. They can’t. They’re not funny or enjoyable at all. And my friend brought up a good point on the issue of having Team Yell based on punks when they’re supposed to be the “villainous” team. Punks, historically, were rebelling against an unfair system, they were progressive and revolutionary. They stood up for LBGT rights, they stood for having individual freedom, and just wanted to break the restrictions society wanted to place on people, let people express themselves and be who they want to be.

If you want Team Yell to be a 2nd Skull and play around with punks as their theme, then they should’ve been set up to be red herrings as well. Be wary at first and then later find that they have hearts of gold, and mean well, even if they can be a tad extreme sometimes. And maybe they can help build up the danger of Rose, who in turn wants to paint them in with a bad image since they’re going against him and what’s normal in society.

Anyway... Sword and Shield honestly should’ve been pushed back. They should’ve been saved for 2020, or even 2021, or however how much time they need. I would’ve been fine waiting. A lot of fans would be. But what we got wasn’t worth the $60 it was being sold at, and definitely not worth the $90 its being sold at with the expansion packs, and as far as I know, these are very, very small areas to explore. Cause as we’ve seen with SaS, they built it up to be big and grand and, well, the Wild Area was smaller than expected and the whole was far shorter than expected. You could beat it in 20 hours roughly.

I even have mixed feelings on there being no enhanced version, cause these games do have potential, they just needed more time and polish, and then it could’ve worth the $60 price. But also thankful that there’s not another 2nd version and we may be getting a few expansion packs instead.

Though I do think a lot they’re bringing in should already be in the game.

Anyway, enough ranting about Sas, onto Mystery Dungeon!

Demo I think could’ve been a little longer, they stop you before you go on the Skarmory mission, I think it could’ve been a better placement to end after the Skarmory mission.

Anyway, I like the changes so far. I love you can choose a different pokemon if you don’t like what you got from the test. I love that you have an updated move pool, though I feel kinda OP but you also kinda need it for these games cause I remember them being so hard and as a starter that can’t evolve till like, post game, yeah you’re going to need that help. I love that you get to wear a little scarf. Design wise, a little weird at first but it grew on me. Kinda reminds me of Okami.

By trailer, for sure they’re adding more pokemon in. Lucario is seen in the team, when before, you only saw Lucario as a statue in Red Blue, I believe? Its been a long time. But they only had Gen 1-3 in RB, and Lucario is there so I would think they’d add in a lot more pokemon.

For starters, I’m hopeful that beating the game, if you replay, you’ll get more options for the starters to play as and have as your partner. I’d loooove to have a chance to play as Popplio. Mega Evolution is confirmed, I wonder if regional forms would also be playable, like if we could evolve into Alolan Marowak or be one of the other two regional Meowths. Otherwise, everyone you could be in the old game is there, with no gender restriction! You can be a female Cubone! A male Eevee! A female Cyndaquil! I’m so happy about that since as a kid, I wanted to play Cyndaquil but never got it in the test and had to look it up and was bummed that it was male only and I wanted to be a girl.

My biggest hope though is that with this, we’ll have a chance to play two player, since you have a team of two usually, and your friend or sibling or SO can play your partner.

I am pleasantly surprised with it so far, though I will be holding off when its released in a few months, just going to listen to all reviews once they beat the game and if its very positive, cause SaS had a strong start and then went down hill with Gamefreak rushing it and cutting corners. I’m hopeful for this remake but cautious still.

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hispeculiartreasure · 5 years

Text

All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Three | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: Teen | Due to language

Word count: 2,930

Chapter 3/24

Warnings: Very brief language

AN: Y’all are getting this chapter a night early because I have had a supremely shitty week and could use some cheering up. So far, this has been the chapter I was most nervous to write because it’s from Bucky’s POV. I have felt so incredibly unworthy of trying to delve into this character because so many fantastic writers I know and love write him flawlessly. It’s been so intriguing for me to explore what Bucky would be like post-war and I think I’m liking where this is going. This chapter has actually turned into one of my favorites and I’m proud of how it came out. Sidenote: Did y’all REALLY think I was going to write something completely void of Steve Rogers???? If you did, you don’t know me that well 😉

Chapter Two

Series Masterlist

Mondays usually were accompanied by drowsiness and wistful thoughts of a weekend passed.

Not for Bucky.

For Bucky, Monday meant he could return to a life where he blends in, where he gets to be the one who observes everyone else. Washing windows is not what he wants for the rest of his life, but for now it felt good to be doing something useful, to have tangible results in front of him everyday. Monday morning means having someplace to be, a set schedule for his day, someone counting on him, and quiet stretches of time alone and away from the worried eyes of his family members.

The pitying glances over breakfast were becoming a bit much for him. Bucky loved his family to death, wouldn’t trade them for the world. But for all their ability to give him space to figure his life out, they sure were clueless that he was keenly aware of the way they looked at him, the way they spoke to him. He doesn’t really blame them, he wouldn’t know how to handle himself either. Most days he pastes on a smile, tells them not to worry, he’d be back on his feet soon. Maybe if he said it enough times, he’d actually believe it too.

Unfortunately Monday also meant dealing with the rest of the boneheaded window washing crew. He was constantly reminding himself to go easy on them, they were just kids. But nothing made him more aware of his age and veteran status than being around them. Compared to their carefree countenances, he realized how much he’d been through, how much he’d seen, how much he’d survived. He should be grateful they were able to be total idiots instead of being shipped off to war. But most days he was tempted to share the number of his confirmed kills so they would leave him alone.

Bucky scales down the building, wind tousling his hair as he looks up to count how many floors he’s finished.

That makes this. . . six.

He peers through the window, pretending to be checking the glass. Scanning the office, he doesn’t see you - his disappointment surprising him.

In the week in which he’d been working on the east side of the building he’d seen you every single day. The way you carried yourself was what first caught his eye - you were confident, poised, not demanding attention but not morphing into a wallflower. You cared about your work, always looking intense and focused. And you saw him. Not in the way people usually saw him - as a figure in the window, someone to be ignored and walked past. In the smallest of ways you were kind to him. You waved every single day, always had time to spare him a smile. There was something about you that was calming. Granted, your interactions were minimal and nonverbal. But you didn’t make him nervous. Which was a rare occurrence these days.

Something in him just wasn’t working lately. Every girl he took dancing, he stepped on her toes. Try to share a meal, he couldn’t find anything to chat about. Dating was easier before he left. Or maybe everything had gotten harder since he’d returned home.

He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit it. Bucky knew he’d changed, he just hadn’t realized how much. Steve had echoed the sentiment a few nights ago.

Reluctantly, Bucky had allowed his idiot friend and Peggy to drag him to a bar after dinner - how the times had changed. It wasn’t one of their old haunts from before the war. Neither Bucky nor Steve could handle the cacophony of noise a club filled with energetic people brought. They bumped into several groups of those kinds of people, including a raucous group of slightly inebriated young women. Suddenly they felt old, weary, uneasy in a place where they used to belong. Or at least where Bucky used to belong, Steve always argued.

This place was quiet, refined even. Conversations were at a dull murmur while a band played casually. No one was here to drunkenly drown their sorrows or celebrate being alive wildly. Almost like everyone here knew the patrons just needed a rest.

“You realize you two don’t have to invite me on all your date nights, right?” Bucky huffed as the three settled at a table near the back.

Peggy smiled coyly. “Don’t worry, James. You aren’t welcome for the entire night.” Steve choked on his drink, coughing violently while his ears burned pink. Bucky’s response had been something along the lines of “gross”.

After the usual chit-chat, Steve had waited for Peggy to excuse herself to refresh their drinks before broaching the subject.

“Doing okay, pal?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky responded, rolling the last sip of his whiskey in its glass.

“You sure?”

Bucky recognized that voice. Eyes flicking back to Steve’s guilty face, his suspicions were confirmed. “Alright, who’s been in your ear this time? Ma? Becca?”

“I’ve got my own eyes and ears.” Steve waited a beat before adding, “But your ma did mention-” Bucky groaned, not hearing the rest of the sentence. “Don’t be like that. They just care about you, Buck.”

“I know,” he snapped. Then he repeated quietly, “I know.”

“You’ve been dragging a lot. Gotta admit you haven’t been yourself.”

Bucky leaned back, leveling Steve with a hard look. “To tell you the truth, Steve? I don’t know who I am. Nothing that mattered to me before means anything anymore. Once I got to Europe. . . I stopped making plans. Didn’t seem to be much use in dreaming about things that I’d never come home to. But then you, being the punk you are, saved my ass countless times - even caught me falling off a damn train - and somehow I’m back in New York. I didn’t plan on having a 29th birthday or hugging my family again.” He idly scratched at an itchy patch of his beard. “Yet here we are.”

“We’re all lucky to be alive, Buck.”

“But for what?” Silence hung thick in the air at Bucky’s question.

“You know. . .” Steve started, then paused. “I do know where you’re coming from.”

“Don’t try to sell me that bullshit. You’re literally a god-damn hero. There are comic books written about you, movies carrying your name, and you have job security for the rest of your life. You had dinner at the White House on your birthday and bagged a kickass partner in crime. If that’s not purpose, what is?”

Steve had the nerve to look embarrassed. “It may be purposeful. . . but it’s not normal. You know better than anyone else that all I wanted was to do my part in the fight. To say I got more than I bargained for is an understatement.” Bucky could only respond with a snort. “But none of us thought I’d survive the scarlet fever, the arrhythmia, or the anaemia. I was lucky to make it as long as I did. The chances of me surviving the serum injection were laughably low.”

Memories of many days spent at Steve’s bedside float over the table, somehow sobering Bucky even more. “But each year was a surprise. My ma would’ve called it a blessing. I never knew what to do with myself, especially when the war started and I was the only man not being shipped off. . . I was desperate to feel normal. What I got was a hard swing in the other direction.” Steve’s eyes shifted to Peggy at the bar, a whisper of a smile on his lips. “I’m grateful for it, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes I wouldn’t hate it if I had ended up with a stable job, a calm life, and a happy home.

“So I get it. Purpose, normalcy. . . we’re all struggling to find what we lost the last few of years.” Steve clasped Bucky’s shoulder, “But Ma taught me that we always have to stand back up. I don’t care if I have to drag you to your feet, Buck, we’ll get you back up. Whatever we have to do to make it happen.” Bucky knew the stubborn fool in front of him wasn’t going to let him wallow much longer. The tables had turned harshly.

Peggy returned to her seat with three drinks in hand, instantly catching on to the shift in mood that had happened during her absence. Misty-eyed, Steve and Bucky cleared their throats and shifted in their seats.

“And while the pair of you are gallivanting around saving the world, I’m washing windows and living with my family, who don’t know what to do with me.” Bucky had meant it as a joke, but it came out much more bitter than intended.

“Still haven’t heard back from the VA?” Bucky just shook his head at Steve’s question, tossing his drink back in one gulp. “You know you’ll always have a job waiting for you at the SSR as long as me and Peggy are there.”

“Eh, that’s not the kind of normal I’m looking for.”

“What are you looking for?” Peggy asks softly, even gently, for her.

“Guess that’s the million dollar question, huh? A coupla years ago, all I cared about was having a good time and getting through school. Dancing with pretty dames. Maybe get hitched, have some kids.”

“And now?” Peggy prompts in a way that allowed no room for a vague answer.

“I wish I could tell ya, Peg. I really do.”

Peggy’s voice echoed in his mind again.

And now?

Bucky shakes that night from his mind, still not spying you anywhere in the office. Deciding you were either taking a late lunch or were sick, he gets on with his job. Halfway through cleaning the window he notices someone sit at your desk, which was strange. You’ve kept your workplace meticulously tidy since the first day he saw you - surely you wouldn’t appreciate this. Out of the corner of his eye he kept track of the stranger’s movements as he continues to work. Part of him wants to tell the lady to buzz off for you, another part of him can’t wait to watch you take down the person scrambling up your desk, the other part of him. . . . is definitely attracted to the Desk Invader.

He only catches glimpses of her during his task and her chair is angled away from him to tend to a filing cabinet adjacent to her desk, so he can’t see her face. But Bucky could tell she was graceful. Ruby red nails carded through the mounds of files, curled hair shined in its rolled-back fashion. Her dress was a bold blue - and fit in all the right places if he let his mind wander.

Right when he was getting desperate for a look at her, she swivels her chair back to the desk - revealing half of her face. Fine powder, bright red lipstick, nothing he hasn’t seen his sister don at the beginning of her day.

She’s made up like every other girl he’s seen pass through the office. Well, not every girl. You seemed to prefer a utilitarian approach to your appearance, which he didn’t ha--

And then the stranger turns fully towards the window, smiles, and waves at him.

It was you.

Is that actually her?

Bucky leans back in his rigging and takes you in fully. Yeah, looks like the utilitarian approach was out. In was a dame on-trend and truly pulling it off. Before you were beautiful, charming. Now? With the makeup only serving to highlight your features? You were stunning. Shaking his head, he can feel the heat in his cheeks with the realization that he’s been ogling you while you watch. Your smile falters, shoulders drop ever-so-slightly. Not very gentlemanly of you, Barnes.

Bucky touches his own face and hair, raising a brow. Making it obvious that he was looking you up and down, he quirks his head to the side in question.

You roll your eyes so far into your head, a chuckle escapes from him. After a surreptitious glance over your shoulder at the rest of the bullpen, you point towards the office he assumes belongs to your supervisor. He nods. Quickly, but clearly, you raise a certain finger in the direction of the office door.

A laugh emanates from deep in his chest, Bucky’s shoulders heaving. He can’t remember the last time he’s laughed hard enough that his eyes are forced shut. When he opens them again, a similar smile is echoed on your face, definitely pleased with his reaction. You’re sassy. He likes that.

With a remnant of a easygoing-Bucky he’d almost forgotten about, he sticks out his lower lip appreciatively while nodding towards you. Accompanied by a wide grin, he knows you’ve gotten his point. You look good.

You duck your head, but he catches the smile you aim toward your lap. A little something stirs in his chest.

And now?

Then and there, he decides he’s going to allow himself to be impulsive.

Just this once.

Bucky knows for certain he has never completed his job so quickly -and probably never as sloppily. He checks his watch as he smooths down his hair. Just as planned, he’s finished earlier than usual - much to the confusion of the rest of the window washers. After stashing his supplies in the outdoor service closet designated for his team he rounds the building, the front entrance being his destination. The remainder of the team was still cleaning several floors up.

From above Bucky hears his boss shout, “Where you going, Barnes?”

“Don’t worry about it, Harrison,” he shouts back. “I finished. Got something to take care of.”

“You better be here early tomorrow!”

Tucking the tail of his shirt into his slacks, he favors the stairs for the elevator as he climbs to the sixth floor and is met with a giant bullpen of desks and offices.

That’s when it registers exactly how many women work in this office - funny how he hadn’t noticed before you walked in. He’s become accustomed to having little attention paid to him due to the nature of his job but now at least a dozen sets of cat-eye-lined eyes are set on his every movement.

Oh boy.

Trying to be as nondescript as possible he begins to head to your desk when the abrupt clearing of a throat stops him. Sitting at a huge desk immediately in front of the elevator is the most intimidating woman he’s ever seen. Tall and rail-thin, her features seem to be pulled tight with the fastidious bun resting at the nape of her neck. A gold sign affixed to the front of the desk reads: M. Flannery, Office Manager.

“May I help you. . . sir?” Scrutinizing him behind thick-framed glasses, she somehow dons an expression that makes her more severe.

“Umm. . . I’m just looking for someone. . . ma’am.”

“May I inquire who it is you have business with?”

He waves a hand, warding her away from the chock-full appointment book she was reaching for. “No, I don’t have an appointment or anythin’ like that.”

“Then what exactly is the reason you are here?”

“There’s a typist I was hoping to speak with.”

“What is her name?”

Shit.

“Umm, I- we’ve only exchanged pleasantries. I was hoping to catch her name today.”

Mrs. Flannery hums disapprovingly.

“I know where her desk is,” he points to the furthest corner of the office, “she had on a blue dress today. Can I pop over there and say hello?”

“I am afraid unauthorized persons are not allowed past the front desk.” An argument bubbles in him, but he swallows it down after her stern gaze tells him that it was a lost battle.

“. . . Could you ask her to meet me out here, then?”

“The woman you are looking for has already left for the day.”

“Oh.” All his nervous energy deflates and the letdown weighs heavy in his gut. He turns to leave when Mrs. Flannery speaks again.

“You may leave a note with me and I will deliver it to her when she arrives in the morning.”

“I would appreciate that, thank you, ma’am.” He looks down at his empty hands, then scratches the back of his neck. “Got a pad and pen I could use?” She sighs heavily, as if his request is the most inconvenient part of her day. Once she shoves the utensils in his direction, he stares at the paper. In the heat of his impulsivity he hoped he’d see you and know exactly what to say. Now the blank page mocks him. Mrs. Flannery’s pointer finger taps on the desk, urging him to hurry up.

Bucky glances up at the office manager again. “I’m guessing I can’t convince you to give me her name, huh?”

“I am not in the habit of giving out young women’s personal information to every dandy that walks in. I will make sure it gets to the girl in the blue dress.”

Becoming increasingly uncomfortable under her gaze, he scribbles the only thing he could think of and folds the paper twice. Holding out the note Bucky asks, “For her eyes only, ma’am?”

Mrs. Flannery’s eyes narrow as she takes the note from him. “I am offended at the implication that I would violate the privacy of a person’s correspondence.” With an upturned nose she swivels away from Bucky, promptly dismissing him.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

With a spring in his step he returns to the stairwell, whistling a happy tune; purposefully ignoring the room of women still watching his every move.

Chapter Four

Tags:

@abovethesmokestacks @barnesrogersvstheworld @ursulaismymiddlename @moderapoppins @lookwhatyoumademequeue @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @thinkwritexpress-official @fearless2tobeme @laneygthememequeen @past-perfect-future-tense @drhughgrection @wildsageleon @promarvelfangirl @connorshero @the-canary @anditwasjustus @p3nny4urth0ught5 @just-add-butter @katiemarks1942 @usernamemingmei @thorfanficwriter @blueskiesbleakeyes @silverwing2522 @satansmushroom @nerd-without-a-cause @firewolf-marvels @reginaphlanageadams @kiliakit @forsaken-letters @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @hiddles-rose @part-time-patronus @biavastarr @ellaenchanted91 @ihopeyousteponarosepetal @thisismysecrethappyplace @palaiasaurus64 @fanfic-diaries @fangirlfictionmain

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes Reader Insert #Bucky Barnes Fluff #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky x Reader #Marvel Fanfiction #All We've Got is Time #beka writes

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missjanjie · 5 years

Text

My Love, My Darling | Branjie Oneshot

Title: My Love, My Darling Summary: Brooke Lynn needs a last minute date for his sister's wedding, and he's left with reaching out to his ex as the best option. Vanessa doesn't mind playing the role - it was an excuse to have a weekend vacation. Besides, they were both totally over each other, right? (aka the fake dating prompt) Word Count: ~3.4k Relationship: Branjie (Vanessa ‘Vanjie’ Mateo/Brooke Lynn Hytes) Rating: E

Read on AO3

------

One week.

Brooke Lynn had one week to pull himself out of the mess he'd gotten himself into. He paced around his room frantically, knowing time was running out. His sister’s wedding was important to the whole family and she implored her big brother to bring his boyfriend.

His boyfriend whose existence he had lied about. It wasn't that he'd set out to tell such a lie, of course not. It was just that if she had tried to set him up with the guy that she'd met on that one yoga retreat – the one where she really ‘found’ herself – one more time, he might have thrown himself off a cliff.

Brooke had already called a couple of friends, but they were either busy or sick. Not that it’d stopped any of them from laughing at his misfortune, of course. Then it occurred to him – instead of telling an outright lie, he could take a previous truth and bring it forward to the present. That would work, right?

“That’s still a lie, Brooke,” Vanessa said into the phone when Brooke called him with the proposition. Still, he mulled it over. They were both loosely aware of the feelings he still harbored – if nothing else, he could play the part well. “There’s an open bar, right?” he finally asked.

“Obviously.”

Vanessa chewed on his lip, nodding to himself before answering. “Okay, yeah, fine. I’m in,” he told him. “But you owe me big time,” he added before hanging up.

Brooke Lynn exhaled in relief and went on to step two: texting his sister and making it sound like he was making a ‘big confession’ – that he didn’t have a new boyfriend, he had just gotten back together with his ex, and how he was so sorry for lying, how he had just gotten nervous. Without having to look her in the eye, the lie flowed pretty easily, much to his relief.

Okay, yes, he should have felt a stronger sense of guilt about lying to his sister in any capacity, but it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, and he was already in way over his head. Besides, this could be fun. Anything with Vanessa was fun as far as he was concerned – he was the life of the party and a general delight to be around. And…maybe thinking about him like that was why it was so easy for him to convince everyone he needed to that they were back together.

------

“What do you think, too ‘over the top’?” Vanessa asked as he looked at himself in the three-panel mirror in the suit shop. He had looped A’keria into this because, well, dealing with this alone would put him on a dangerous path to getting too into his feelings. He needed a friend to keep him grounded, and one that actually knew his history with Brooke Lynn was exactly what he needed.

A’keria cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips. “Do you know what the dress code is for this thing is? Did Brooke send you a copy of the invitation or anything?”

Vanessa nodded and grabbed his phone, pulling up the picture Brooke had sent him. “It says ‘black tie optional’. But I need a whole outfit, I don’t care what type of tie I gotta wear,” he explained.

“A black-tie optional dress code means you wear a dark suit, maybe a tux. Like, fancy, but not, you know, ballroom on the Titanic fancy,” A’keria explained, looking him over. “The shirt and pants are fine, but the jacket’s all wrong. You look like you’re waiting to have a growth spurt into it,” he observed and helped him take it off.

“They should just say that on the invite,” Vanessa murmured and opted for a different suit jacket. “This one’s nice. Needs a little taking in at the waist, but I can do that much,” he mused.

“Then you’re all set,” A’keria nodded.

After Vanessa changed back into his regular clothes and paid for his outfit, he and A’keria went out to lunch at a nearby diner. “You’d tell me if this was a bad idea, right?” he asked, looking down at the mug of coffee he was absently stirring his spoon in.

A’keria nodded and bummed a fry off his plate. “Yeah, probably. But would that stop you, is the question,” he told him. “I’m just trying to look out for you, girl. I know what you’re like whenever you’re around Brooke, and you know you’re playing with fire,” he warned.

“It’s different this time,” Vanessa defended. “I know where I stand with him – we’re going as pretend dates to a wedding. I’m just helping him get out of a lie, not trying to win him over or whatever. I got my big girl panties on, I know better.”

This didn’t quite assuage A’keria’s concern. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” after a couple tries, he managed to get eye contact with him. “Listen, I’m just worried about you. You tend to…go all in when it comes to Brooke Lynn. And it hasn’t worked out that well so far.”

Vanessa huffed, disgruntled. It felt like he was getting a ‘talking to’ from his mother more than anything else. Maybe he didn’t have the best track record when it came to how he handled his relationship with Brooke. But he did like to believe he had learned from his experiences, he had grown. And the distance they’d had over the past few months had done him good – he’d allowed himself to set those feelings aside and move on. Whether or not he had fully moved on hadn’t been relevant, and he’d be damned if it didn’t stay that way. “I’m fine. Seriously. I know how to take care of myself.”

------

“Be there in five,” Vanessa read off his phone. He sent a reply in confirmation before going through his travel bag one last time. Everything was packed and he had the itinerary memorized – check in at the hotel, have a quick drink or two with his siblings, that way they could call it a night then and be ready for the wedding the following day and brunch on Sunday. He swore he would have fun if it was the last thing he did – if nothing else, just to prove that he still could.

When Brooke arrived in an uber, Vanessa quickly made his way downstairs and put his bag in the trunk before joining him in the backseat. “Hey,” he greeted pleasantly. “What time is the flight, again?”

“Quarter to noon,” Brooke answered as the car peeled back out into the road, taking them on their way to LAX. Initially, he had worried that having to take an international flight would have been a deal-breaker for Vanessa, but his response had been along the lines of ‘well, I needed a vacation anyway’. That was something he had always admired about him – he found it so effortless to go with the flow. Brooke always needed a plan, to map out everything. Vanessa brought an excitement and spontaneity into his life – it was one of the first things he missed when they broke up.

There were a lot of little things Brooke Lynn had missed about Vanessa, and just in the time it took for them to get from Los Angeles to Toronto, he was faced with several of them. There was the way he could navigate through somewhere as hectic as an airport with ease, how cute he looked when he immediately passed out on the plane, the look he would give him when the cab driver made a terribly lame joke and they’d laugh for all the wrong reasons. It felt familiar, it felt warm.

By the time they had actually checked into the hotel room, Brooke was feeling dizzy, like his mind would fog up every time he tried to think clearly. He was sure it was jet lag; he was just tired from the flight. “Fuck, it’s like…after eight, isn’t it?” he went into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. Snap out of it. You’re an adult. Once he was done silently chastising himself, he reentered the room. “You still up for drinks?” he asked, ready to cancel if Vanessa so much as hinted at not feeling up to it.

But Vanessa was well rested from the flight and seemingly far less affected by jet lag. “Yeah, I’m good,” he changed from his barely-there tank top to a button-down shirt. “Ready to act like you’re still in love with me?” his tone was lighthearted; it shouldn’t have stung Brooke the way it did.

Brooke swallowed thickly and offered a pageant smile. “Absolutely,” he extended his arm for him to link onto and they made their way down to the hotel bar. Having had the longest commute, they ended up being the last to arrive, but everyone was happy to see them, nonetheless.

“Oh, you made it!” Brooke’s sister hugged him tightly. “Was the flight alright?”

“Yeah, made great time,” Brooke nodded. “You guys remember José, right?” he cocked his head towards Vanessa, who was already greeting and hugging everyone as if they were old friends.

The bride-to-be seemed the most excited to see Vanessa, wrapping him in a bear hug. “Of course! Oh, I’m so happy you decided to bring him,” she beamed, turning and gesturing to the bartender to make another two drinks.

Brooke beamed warmly, draping his arm around Vanessa and kissing the side of his head. “As if there was anyone else that I’d even consider bringing,” he chuckled, ignoring the fact that he had attempted to enlist various other friends prior. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, right, my love?” and it was nice to see the way Vanessa fit in so easily with his family, his magnetic charm reeling them in just like he’d been.

“Uh huh,” Vanessa smiled, and, after a few drinks, the small gathering eventually started to dwindle down. “I’mma head back up to the room,” Vanessa announced. “Should I wait up?”

“Go ahead, darling. I’ll be right there,” they shared a quick kiss before Brooke was left alone with his sister. “Isn’t he great?”

“Yes, and entirely out of your league,” she joked. “You better get a ring on that one fast, he’s a total catch,” she mused before adding, “I’m turning in, see you tomorrow.”

And in another life, she would’ve been onto something, Brooke mused. She wasn’t wrong – Vanessa is a total catch and yes, quite possibly way out of his league. But he only had him for the weekend and hoped that’d be enough to satisfy his cravings.

------

Brooke Lynn sat on the bed as he watched Vanessa get ready. “You look good in a suit,” he remarked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in one.”

“More of a cocktail dress type gal,” Vanessa chuckled, looking in the mirror and sighed in frustration. “Can you tie this for me?” he asked, gesturing to the crooked loop of a tie that loosely hung around his neck.

Brooke pushed himself up to his feet and went over to him. “Yeah, I got it,” he did the tie with relative ease, his hand ghosting down Vanessa’s arm as he pulled back, stopping when their hands met, and fingers intertwined. The touch lingered; a soft gaze tenderly fixated on the smaller male.

“What?” Vanessa giggled softly and tilted his head. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

Blushing, Brooke averted his gaze, breaking the stare. “You just look…really beautiful right now,” he quietly confessed. His hand retracted to his side, swallowing thickly as he took a half-step back.

Normally, Vanessa could take a compliment in stride and respond in a distant confidence. But he was as muted as Brooke was, a hint of rosiness in his cheeks. “Thanks. You clean up real well too,” he managed to say as if anything was in the vicinity of normal. He glanced over at the digital clock on the dresser. “We better get going…”

Brooke blinked himself back into focus. “You’re right, let’s go,” he agreed, shoving his phone into his pocket as they headed out the door. Once they reached the hotel lobby, they were back in ‘couple mode’ again, walking hand-in-hand to the ceremony.

Luckily, they didn’t have to do much but sit and be quiet during the ceremony, not that it stopped Vanessa from resting his head on Brooke’s shoulder and wrapping both of his arms around one of Brooke’s.

“You alright?” Brooke nudged him gently.

Vanessa nodded. “I just get emotional at weddings,” he explained, and that was all the explanation he was willing to offer, so, they sat through the rest of the ceremony in relative silence. It was right to the reception after that – something they were both surprisingly relieved about getting to.

The hotel’s ballroom was beautiful, everything was set up to be elegant without being unapproachable. All the guests were mixing and mingling and finding their assigned seats. Brooke and Vanessa were sat with the rest of Brooke’s siblings and their spouses – the pressure to keep their pseudo-love story going was on more than ever. They partook in all the small talk they needed to, to the point where they forgot that they were even trying to do anything other than have a good time.

Then it was time for the newlyweds’ first dance. Everyone was in their seats as the bride and groom slow danced to ‘Unchained Melody’ until other couples slowly trickled onto the dance floor as well.

Brooke Lynn got up and extended his hand to Vanessa. “May I?” he led him to the dance floor and wrapped his arms around his waist.

Vanessa properly looped his arms around him as their feet quickly found the gentle rhythm of the song and stepped in tune. He exhaled deeply and melted into Brooke’s embrace as they swayed, resting his chin on his shoulder before just leaning his head on it.

Their surroundings faded out, it was just the two of them, dancing in time with the music and each other’s heartbeat. And in that moment, they couldn’t help but wonder – would it be so hard to pick up where they left off? Would it be that big of a mistake? How could sharing your life with someone you could connect to in perfect synchronicity be anything but the rightest thing in the world?

When the song came to an end, they stepped only slightly apart, holding eye contact that went right to their hearts, sending them into overdrive. “I never should have let you go,” Brooke breathed out softly.

“No one’s looking at us, you don’t have to keep up the act,” part of Vanessa knew this wasn’t just for show, but he desperately wanted to hear it right from the source.

And he got that confirmation, “I’m not acting,” Brooke confessed, then suddenly held Vanessa by the back of his head and pulled him into a heated kiss. He needed it more than he needed air, absolutely every fiber of his being was aching to hold him as close as he once did regularly.

But as quickly as he initiated it, he backed off. “I’m sorry, I should’ve…I didn’t mean to…” he was still searching for words when Vanessa cut him off with another kiss.

“Don’t apologize,” Vanessa murmured against his lips. “Just…don’t speak,” he said before kissing him again, pulling him closer by gripping onto his jacket. “You wanna bail early or do you need to stick around for cake?” he asked with a soft laugh.

Brooke rolled his eyes and laughed, already leading Vanessa out of the ballroom and through the lobby. He’d apologize to his sister during brunch, say one of them got sick or something. And maybe prioritizing sex over finishing out the celebration wasn’t the best way to do it, but Vanessa gave him bedroom eyes and there wasn’t a force in the universe that could’ve stopped him from following through.

They returned to the room in record time – especially considering they spent half of that time trying to make out and walk. It was easier behind closed doors – throwing off their clothes every which way as they stumbled backwards onto the bed. It was a tangled mess of limbs as they tried to touch and grab at each other every which way they could.

Things calmed for a moment, just long enough for Vanessa to get up and grab lube and a condom from his bag (because hey, if you stay ready, you don’t have to get ready) and pass them off to Brooke Lynn.

Brooke flipped the cap open with one hand and pinned Vanessa to the bed with the other. Normally he would savor their reunion – take his time, draw out his movements, leave him desperate and begging before finally giving in – but he just couldn’t. There were too many emotions, even beyond lust, swirling through him and just driving him for more, now. So, he kept one hand on Vanessa’s waist and prepped him with the other and kissing him as much as he could.

In the midst of it, Vanessa picked the condom back up, blindly opening it so, as soon as Brooke had pulled his fingers out, he was able to roll the rubber onto his length. He propped pillows up under his head and back, giving him the perfect angle.

And Brooke took full advantage of it. He gripped on to Vanessa’s thighs as he pushed into him, his knees nearly to his ears by the time Brooke bottomed out. It was barely a couple seconds of waiting before he built up a steady thrusting pace.

Vanessa tried to keep his eyes open, wanting to commit the moment to memory. But Brooke had remembered every single way to touch him that sent his eyes rolling into the back of his head and his lips parting to let out a stream of moans and expletives. Eventually, he was squeezing his eyes shut and writhing in tandem with Brooke’s thrusts.

“Fuck, baby…” Brooke knew he’d missed their sex but fuck, he really missed their sex. “Shit, still feels as good as I remember,” he grunted.

“You still as big as I remember,” Vanessa retorted with a breathless laugh. He’d have been lying if he claimed that specific trait hadn’t tempted a late night call a few times, stopped only by a miraculous stroke of self-control.

But self-control was out the window now. It didn’t take long for Brooke to lose his sense of rhythm, devolving into erratic, desperate thrusts that lasted until they both hit their orgasms. And when it was over, the air around them felt different, lighter, in a way neither could ever attempt to describe. It allowed them to comfortably bask in a post-coital haze while they caught their breath.

“This wasn’t your plan all along, was it?” Vanessa asked. He supposed he wouldn’t have been mad if it was, though.

Brooke chuckled and shook his head. “Not in the slightest,” he promised. “At first I didn’t even want to ask you to come, I thought it’d be such a dick move,” he confessed as he pulled Vanessa close to cuddle. “But I’m glad I didn’t trust my better judgement,” he added, gently kissing his cheek a few times over.

“Me too,” Vanessa chuckled. “Almost talked myself out of it a few times,” and he’d almost let A’keria talk him out of it too. Part of him was looking forward to rubbing their rekindled romance in his face, while the rest of him knew he should wait it out, just in case.

There were a few quiet moments before Vanessa spoke again. “What happens next? For us, I mean,” he could feel his heart start to speed up as he asked, despite how utterly spent his body was.

Brooke pressed his lip into a fine line as he thought. “We go to sleep. Then tomorrow we go to brunch, then we fly back to LA…then if we’re not too tired, I’m gonna take you out on a real date. From there, we’re just gonna take it one step at a time,” he let his fingers aimlessly thread through Vanessa’s hair as he spoke. “How does that sound to you?”

Vanessa smiled and kissed him chastely. “Perfect.”

#branjie #branjie fic #fluff #smut

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liahswriting · 5 years

Text

Let Me Help

Relationship(s): Bucky Barnes/Wanda Maximoff

Words: 1,797

Warnings: None

Summary: Bucky struggles with his feelings for the witch

Dark, mocha lips sucked at a lollipop innocently. Her eyes were downcast as she read a book of some sort on a beanbag chair in the corner of the room. The sucker in her mouth glistened her lips with each lick and suck. It was such an innocent, mindless act but Bucky struggled with the connotative images swirling around in his mind. Wanda was beautiful -there was absolutely no denying it. She was very wise for someone her age. And she was also a brave soul. The kid had seen so much in such a short period of time and at such a young age too: losing her parents as a child, experimentation not much longer later, losing her brother. She went through a lot yet still came out relatively alright.

Despite all her positive qualities, Bucky was still very wary of her powers. Bucky too had gone through a lot and he wasn’t healed from it yet. Even though he had escaped the clutches of Hydra’s chains, he was still reminded of his torture every time he closed his eyes. He could feel every harsh touch on his skin, every drop of blood coating his hands, the crisp coldness that enveloped him every time he was put in cryo. Hydra had been in control of his mind for decades and he didn’t trust Wanda’s mind shit either. Bucky just wasn’t ready yet.

But that still didn’t stop Bucky from admiring her from afar. It felt weird almost. Almost. She was young -just breaching her twenties- and he was old in several ways. She probably never spared him a second look in a romantic way. Not when she could walk outside and find a guy with a simple bat of her pretty green eyes.

Bucky watched her lick at the lollipop until it was worn down to the plastic stick. At that point she got up from the beanbag chair and sauntered to the kitchen where he sat to toss the stick. She passed by him and offered him a kind smile. That’s the one thing he hated about her. She was nice. To him. It made things that much harder for Bucky. If Wanda had been mean and rude and an utter bitch to him, Bucky wouldn’t be filled with the temptations. But she was nice and always smiled at him when she could. She spoke to him like any other person would speak to a friend. It gave Bucky false hope that maybe, just maybe, she saw him as more than a friend.

Just as quickly as she appeared, she disappeared back to her spot and resumed reading. Bucky’s food had gone cold on his plate having been untouched since he sat down to eat it over thirty minutes ago. Okay, this was starting to get weird. He tossed his food and promptly got out of sight before he got caught.

That night, Bucky had jolted out of another nightmare. His own screaming had woken him up this time instead of Steve like usual. He had been away with Nat and Clint on a recon mission in Spain for the last two days and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. That left him alone, panting, sweating, lost, and confused. His body trembled and his lungs felt like they were on fire. His scalp felt raw and bruised letting him know that he had been ripping at the strands again in his fit. It took several long minutes for Bucky to calm himself down.

He could still feel the electricity of the mind wiping machine swirling around his skull. Another mistake he had made which resulted in another session of recalibration. When weapons break, they need to be fixed. So they wiped him. Bucky’s entire body twitched in phantom pain.

He wasn’t able to get back to sleep.

And it showed the next day. Sam was the first to comment on Bucky’s appearance which captured the attention of the rest of the team. All eyes were looking back at his purple-bagged, red-rimmed ones. He was in no mood to converse with anyone and instead bypassed everyone in favor of a beer from the fridge. And then another. And one more for good measure. No one knew what to do about him -this was usually Steve’s expertise- and instead ignored him. As if Bucky would even accept their help if they offered and, besides, Steve would be back soon to deal with his troubled friend. Tony and Bruce had escaped to the lab to avoid the awkwardness. Sam provided an excuse of having to head down to the VA office. Which left Bucky and Wanda alone in the general vicinity.

She looked comfortable. A simple loose, cotton t-shirt and a pair of legging indicated she had no desire to dress to impress. Like yesterday, she sat in her beanbag chair, reading her book. She appeared to be a lot further along than yesterday but she had paused her reading to look Bucky over. Her gaze of pity annoyed him. He didn’t want pity. Not from her. His angered expression seemed to be a lot more aggressive than he figured because her eyes had downcast back to her book when she met his own gaze.

Bucky felt bad about it. He didn’t mean to upset her. Sighing, he sauntered over and sat on the couch adjacent to her. Wanda looked back up cautiously to see his head in his hands.

“You okay?” she simply asked softly.

“No worse than usual.” was his response.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Probably not.”

“You didn’t sleep last night though.” she observed.

“How’d you guess.” he snorted.

“Why don’t you lay down for a little while?” she suggested.

“I don’t wanna go back to my room.”

“Then lay here. I’ll stay quiet.”

“I couldn’t go back to sleep even if I wanted to. My head hurts.” he complained and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Wanda sat up straighter with a small smile.

“That, I can help with.”

“Help how?” Bucky questioned with curiosity. Wanda stood then and made her way over to him. She sat on the couch next to him and carefully lifted a hand to his head. With permission, she carded her fingers through his knotted locks. Her fingers picked at the strands as she did do, pulling free the tangles and fluffing his hair.

“I don’t get how this is suppose to-” Bucky started to say but he caught a glimpse of her hand from the corner of his eye and saw the red flame of her powers engulfing her hand and fingers. “No!” he shouted, jumping back and out of reach.

“Relax!” she urged. “I won’t delve into your mind, I promise. Trust me, I won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t-I can’t…… Hydra-”

“It’s okay, Bucky. I’m your friend. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. I’m just gonna get rid of your headache.”

“Hydra used to wipe me. So I’d forget. So they’d have control over me.” he murmured.

“I won’t do that, Bucky.” she replied just as softly. Bucky looked at her carefully. Nothing behind her shining, green eyes told him she had any ulterior motive. She had the face of pure innocence and his head was really hurting. Her fingers felt good combing through his hair and scratching at his scalp. Bucky was tired; tired of fighting this battle, of losing sleep over it, of not living. He was tired of being trapped.

So he nodded.

Wanda pressed her glowing fingers back to his head and combed through his brown tresses. Bucky allowed himself to relax and trust her and close his eyes. He felt a tingling just below his skull. It wasn’t painful -actually, it felt more like when you sleep on your arm for too long and it feels all fuzzy. It dulled the pounding ache in his brain and he sighed in relief.

“Lay down.” she instructed. He followed her body movements as she too laid back on the couch. Her head propped against the arm of the couch and her back nuzzled comfortably against the back of the couch. Bucky looked to her for a moment. How was he going to go about this? The way she laid left few options for him to position his own body. It seemed that no matter how he fit against her, it’d be an awkward situation. Wanda, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care. She pulled at the back of his head and coaxed him to lay anyway. She had him lay his head against her chest so she could tangle her fingers in his hair. Bucky went stiff for a moment, not exactly sure what to think about having his face pressed against her breasts. With her nails once again scratching at his scalp, and with another bout of fuzz engulfing his brain, he didn’t think any harder about it and let himself fall into the calming waves washing over him and lulling him towards the sleep he longed for.

Several hours later, Steve, Nat, and Clint had finally made it back to the compound. Nothing went wrong with the recon mission but it took a lot longer than they originally thought. All three of them were desperate for a shower and an actual bed to sleep on but first Steve wanted to check in on Bucky. Sam had sent him a text letting him know that Bucky had another nightmare while he was away.

“Jarvis? Where’s Bucky?” Steve asked, stepping into the compound and instinctively walking towards Bucky’s room.

“Sergeant Barnes is currently in the communal living room with Miss Maximoff.” the AI’s voice reverberated. Steve stopped in his tracks and turned, heading towards the living room. When he got there, the sight before him stopped him dead in his tracks. Bucky and Wanda were cuddled up on the couch, his face nuzzled into her chest and her fingers trapped in his hair. Both of them were dead asleep.

Steve smirked then. He knew Bucky had it bad for the girl but was always too afraid to do something about it. Steve had pestered his friend in the past to at least just talk to Wanda and Bucky had promised to do so but he fell short on that promise. Steve eventually stopped bugging him about it. Looks like it paid off. He quietly tiptoed over to the couch, grabbed the throw tossed over the back, and covered the two of them so they didn’t get cold. Bucky hates the cold. He stirred for a moment, squishing himself closer to Wanda and tightening his grip around her waist. Confident that his friend was in good hands, Steve left to finally take that shower.

#marvel #mcu #fanfiction #imagine #Bucky Barnes x Wanda maximoff #winterwitch

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krixwell-liveblogs · 5 years

Text

Worm asks

Have you tried to give D&D alignments to The Travelers yet, and if not how would you classify them?

Hmm.

Trickster: True neutral

Sundancer: Neutral good

Ballistic: Chaotic neutral

Genesis: ???

Noelle: Lawful? good

Oliver: Chaotic nerd

Gurer’f abguvat vaqvfchgnoyl njshy tbvat guebhtu, ohg V’q qrsvavgryl yvxr gb frr yrff uvagvat znxr vg guebhtu gur fperravat gb Xevk

Sharks: Fher guvat. V’ir orra ehaavat bss gur vqrn gung vs vg’f va gur sbezng bs na ubarfg dhrfgvba, va beqre gb nibvq nabgure Fpragyrff Zna vapvqrag, ohg V pna svarghar vg vs crbcyr jnag?

As usual, translate here.

While you’re checking out all the Simurgh fanart, you should listen to this theme someone made for her: (google Simurgh Husr, first result. Hopefully sharks can just replace this with the actual link) Same person who made that Leviathan theme linked way back.

https://soundcloud.com/user-371879520/simurgh

This was really nice. I like how it does sound like a good melody while at the same time exhibiting some of the pattern-defying nature of the tune. 🙂

I think you miiiight have jumped to conclusions from an ask that simply asked you if you could list the Traveler’s cape and civilian names. Miiight have. Also, I’m pretty sure most of them where refered to by their civilian names in previous arcs.

It’s certainly possible.

It’s not so much that I jumped to the conclusion as that the ask opened my eyes to the possibility of it, which I hadn’t considered before. From there, I had to reevaluate things and consider how things would change if it turned out I had gotten the two mixed up. Ultimately I think I’d prefer for Cody to be Ballistic, but I’m still not sure either way (even with this ask heavily implying it’s Luke).

As for names, most of their names did show up (all the more reason for an ask about matching names to capes being kind of odd if it wasn’t trying to set me thinking of something), but I can’t recall Ballistic’s being one of them. But you know how my memory can be.

That smurf song you posted definitely says “dab dab dab” several times, despite the video being uploaded to YouTube in 2009, and the song supposedly being from 1978. So that’s suspicious as hell.

I… think that has to be the bits where it actually says “tramp, tramp, tramp på en smurf” (“stomp, stomp, stomp on a smurf”).

Either way, now we’re all forced to consider the concept of the Smurfs dabbing, so thanks for that. 😛

“Dragonberry” was Scarfgirl’s old character on City of Heroes, a MMORPG with a superhero theme that no longer exists. I know you’re not reading the chapter comments, but if you ever go back to read the early ones, you’ll see that quite a lot of the early readers were City of Heroes players who had an interest in superhero fiction. That’s why Scarfgirl’s art is signed “Dragonberry”, because it’s how people knew her back then.

Ah, interesting. Fun to hear a little about the fandom’s early history. 🙂

I’ve had many names, myself. Once upon a time I used to make a different name, if not more, for just about every site I was on. One of the names that stuck with me the most was Elementarion, which I used in the game Godville and a few other places (not every Elementarion that comes up on Google now is me, though), because I found long-time friends while using that name.

Though for some reason I wonder why 😛, nobody seemed to want to type it out every time they wanted to mention me. I’ve been called almost every short form of Elementarion there is. El was the most common (made watching Stranger Things kinda odd the first time around, even though I’d long abandoned the name), but I’ve been called Ele, Elem, Eleme, Elemen, Element…

A couple other highlights I remember were Hiatus (in a browser game I don’t remember the name of), OldHeavens (NewGrounds) and Barbute (ArmorGames).

It wasn’t until I came up with Krix Jace, later Krixwell Jace, that I started stabilizing my name.

1. Do you think people ever submit misleading questions just to fuck with you?

Some, probably. And that might be a good thing — if there are some asks that deliberately imply things that are wrong, it makes it harder to trust accidental implications of things that are right.

2. Have you ever noticed that Danny and Eidolon have never been in a scene together?

Hmmmmmm 🤔

Still no Travelers interlude… do you still think you’ll get one, or has this dashed your hopes?

Ahaha

Yeah, no, I’m counting this as everything I asked for and more. 😛

Sharks:

http://www.nospoiler.com/y/WenCYI_Bn7I

Sent in by “ewerwqer”. “Simurgh Scream” by person257 Don’t… Open it with headphones on. Trust me. Don’t.

I’m scared.

*disconnects his headphones*

…not as bad as the description sounded, but yeah, probably a good idea to not use headphones. It’s a well put-together bit of mind noise, nice work. 🙂

Worm fanart

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By Winkle92

Oooh, there are more of these? Awesome! They’re all going in my backgrounds folder.

I love how Behemoth just kinda peeks around the corner of the image border. It’s okay, don’t be shy!

(Also I just discovered I can do slideshows. Neat.)

K6BD ask

My favorite part is the Master of Aesthetic saying “she is an idiot, and a loathsome schemer!” and YISUN is all “YEP, YOU GOT THAT ONE RIGHT 😀 😀 :D”. With Aesma standing right there.

YISUN is the type of person who has “precious trash babies” in every fandom they’re in. 😛

I feel like you all need to know, even if you don’t care about MLP:FiM, that the final episode of the show proved us all wrong.

The show’s resident Skitter is not Queen Chrysalis, the villainous, scheming ruler of a hive full of insect ponies.

Nor is it Twilight Sparkle, the mainest character and socially awkward brainiac who leads a team of five other main characters and always does her research if she can.

No, because of this one episode, it becomes clear:

It’s Rarity.

…

Okay, that’s just a joke, Twilight is still the best fit among the Mane Six, but Rarity using spiders for her fashion did immediately make me think of Taylor.

Twilight – Taylor

Applejack – Brian

Rainbow Dash – Rachel

Rarity – Lisa

Fluttershy – Alec??

Pinkie Pie – Aisha??

(Spike – Shatterbird??????)

K6BD patron comments

1. “What happened to Hansa” is addressed in the Prim story so that’s still out there if you want to know.

Ahh. That would explain why it was left unexplained in Aesma, aside from acting as a noodle incident if you haven’t read Prim.

2. As you observed, the word “demon” has appeared very rarely in the comic, outside of epic title drops & an instance where drunk Allison used it in place of “devil”. It’s used in some of the bonus texts but without a clear definition. Can you speculate further on what it might mean?

The priests seem to call Aesma a demon in the sense of a being of evil, but I don’t think that’s necessarily a definition that’s relevant to the comic’s title (and what appears to be Allison’s “name” in some sense, though the Demiurges do seem to have misinterpreted other parts of the prophecy and Zoss didn’t unambiguously use it as a name). It may be more about inner demons, Allison killing her fears, doubts and insecurities as she grows into the role of a king/queen of the cosmos. Six billion might be hyperbole, in that case, but still.

Alternatively, the prophecy and name might actually refer to Zaid, who could easily end up being the final villain of this thing even if he’s not actually Zoss’ intended successor. In that case, “six billion demons” might refer to humans, if Zaid gets really nasty with his own species. We know very little about Zaid’s base personality beyond “kinda sleazy boyfriend”, so a lot of developments are plausible on that front.

Though there are other parts of the prophecy, as well as illustrations, that do fairly clearly indicate Kill Six Billion Demons is Allison and will be flanked by White Chain and Ciocie, so it referring to Zaid is unlikely.

3. I think the author once said that there are still Aesma-worshippers active in Throne. What do you think they’re like and what would she think of them?

(Somehow the flesh sellars come to mind.)

Well, clearly they’d be Slytherins, if they understand her teachings. Aesma might treat them as ants, if she were still around, but bask in their adoration.

4. Kalpa — a Hindu / Buddhist concept meaning a really fucking long time. Besides in the story you just read, the term has also appeared in the comic at least once so far.

Good to know. I think I kind of just assumed it was Throne’s equivalent of a year, however long it might be.

5. Panopticon — a prison design envisioned by philospopher Jeremy Bentham, allowing all prisoners to be observed from a central point.

Makes sense. When I read it in Aesma’s story, the word’s construction was clear enough that I figured out what it was immediately, before I finished reading the sentence. It very clearly means a place from which to see everything.

6. Root — penis.

Yeah, I figured that one out. 😛

7. To offset the unfortunate scarcity of Cio in your life lately, here’s some of the old concept art:

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(The quantity of arms was somewhat uncertain.)

Oooh.

Her arms and legs look so spidery here. I suppose that might be why she was introduced with the Coat of Arms.

Can Skitter control her?

8. Not related to K6BD but Abaddon has also been working on a tabletop mecha RPG and here’s the very nice cover art:

Ooh, you’re right, this looks very nice. It kind of gives me a K6BD x Steven Universe x Star Wars vibe. And a little bit of RWBY with that one guy that reminds me of Tyrian. I can definitely see the resemblance between this an K6BD in terms of character design style, despite the genre shift.

I particularly like the blonde in the lower left.

In the interest of transparency, I should also mention that the patron has said he probably won’t sponsor full liveblogs of any of the other bonus texts, but has sent me a few recommendations and links to some of the ones I’ve passed (besides Prim). I might read some of those on my own time, though, especially the second Aesma story. If I do, I will of course let you know and discuss any particularly notable observations.

Between: PB7

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onwardintolight · 5 years

Link

Han x Leia, ESB, Trip to Bespin, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: ESB from Leia's POV. A journey from despair to hope, a blossoming, an opening to vulnerability and love.

Warnings: Deals with some heavy themes, incl. working through trauma, depression, self-harm, attempted sexual assault. Each chapter will be individually warned.

Note: I’m currently in the process of reposting the first nine chapters here in full, since when I first wrote this fic, I only shared links to the chapters on AO3 and FFN. I will try to post at least weekly. In the meantime, if you’d prefer to binge-read it, the entire fic is posted in full on AO3 and FFN.

Part: Masterlist | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | Epilogue

Soundtrack

~~~

Author’s note 10/2019: My take on the first “I love you.”

Warnings for Chapter 13: reference to suicide/suicidal ideation

~~~

Leia stared at her datapad, and it stared right back. The blankness of the new journal entry she’d opened called to her—or taunted her; she wasn’t quite sure which. She twirled a finger in one of the tendrils of her hair that had escaped from its braid.

It had been two weeks since they’d left Hoth. Two weeks since that crazy, horrible, wonderful day—wonderful, eventually, thanks to Han’s return, her decision to leave with him, their conversations, the kisses they’d finally shared. Horrible, because before that, the Empire had found their base… and she’d finally given in to despair. The past two weeks had been a welcome distraction, a healing balm for her soul. She hadn’t spent much time looking back. But as she sat curled up on her (their) bunk in the crew quarters, alone, datapad in hand, she sensed that she needed to confront what had happened that day, now that there was some time and distance.

Writing it out would help, she knew. Sometimes, that was the only way she could bring any sort of sense or order to the tangled thicket of feelings inside. She’d kept a journal for years; first it had been reluctantly, as a child following her mother’s strong suggestion, but as the years went on she had clung more and more to the release that came from setting free the jumble of words caged in her mind.

She had left behind the datapad she normally used as a journal. At the time, she had assumed she’d never need it again. It wasn’t gone forever, thankfully—dear old Threepio had seen to that—but for now, she’d have to make do with the single datapad she had on hand.

It would help if she could figure out where to start. Twenty minutes ago she’d dated the top of her new entry; since then, she’d begun a sentence only to delete it again multiple times. The more she thought about that day, the more jumbled up she felt.

Well, perhaps not all that jumbled—one feeling rose to the top of the writhing heap, threatening to overpower everything else, including her will to write.

Shame.

A sick feeling rose in her stomach. Absentmindedly, she drew out the amulet her mother had given her from the pocket she’d been keeping it in. Turning it end on end, she ran her thumb over the smooth silver metal, the rough, sea-toned jewels, the delicate chain.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

There was a knock at the door, and Han came in. She closed her fist around the necklace.

“Hey sweetheart," he said cheerily. "Just going to use the ‘fresher.” A minute later he emerged. He paused on his way to the door, taking her in. “You okay?”

Leia sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, come on, it’s never nothin’.” He crossed over to the bunk and sat down across from her. “Now look, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but—”

“No, I’ll talk,” she said, though she didn’t offer up anything else in the pause that followed. As it was with her journal, she wasn’t sure where to begin.

Han broke the silence. “So, uh, what’s that?” He gave a pointed glance at the bit of chain hanging out of her closed fist. She opened to let him see.

“My mother gave it to me,” she said. “It’s… it’s one of the few things I didn’t leave behind.”

Han cradled her hand with his own, leaning over to get a good look at the amulet. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured. He looked back up at her, raising an eyebrow. “Bringin’ up memories?”

“Always.” She smiled wistfully. “But it’s more than that.” She looked down at the amulet, her smile fading. “I… I was just thinking about what happened on Hoth. How I let them down.”

“Your parents?”

“My parents, my planet, everyone. I let them all down.” She shook her head. “I abdicated my duty.”

Han frowned. “What do you mean, sweetheart? We were just tryin’ to escape—we didn’t know we’d end up floatin’ out here all by ourselves, crawlin’ towards the nearest friendly system. That’s not your fault.”

“Oh, that’s not—that’s fine—I mean, it’s not fine, but that’s the way it is. No, the problem is what happened before that. I gave up, Han. I… I was going to let myself die.” She paused, then caught his eyes, trying to steady herself in them. “I wanted to die.”

Pain flickered in Han’s eyes as they held her own. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then he changed his mind and began stroking the side of her palm instead. Leia was vaguely relieved; she already felt ashamed enough without him piling on the worry and pity.

“Do you know what my father’s last words to me were?” she continued. “He told me he trusted me, more than anyone. He said there wasn’t anything I couldn’t deal with. At the time, he was sending me on a mission, charging me with taking the Death Star plans to Obi-Wan. But ever since… ever since, I’ve felt like his words were a charge for life. He trusted me to be the person I needed to be for my people, for the Rebellion, for the galaxy. He trusted me to not give up. On Hoth, I failed that trust. I proved him wrong.”

She swallowed down the lump that was rising in her throat. “I justified it by telling myself I wasn’t going to run away anymore. That I was facing my guilt, facing my fear. But really I was just giving into those things. Surrendering to my despair. Abandoning my duty. Letting Va—the Empire—win.” Her voice broke, and she stared down at the blankets, fighting back angry tears.

“Leia.” Han spoke her name softly, searching her face until her eyes rose to meet his. “Sweetheart.” He shook his head, his thumb continuing to outline small circles on her palm. “You’re actin’ like you wanted to die out of selfishness, like you went off and abandoned the galaxy on purpose. That’s not the truth and you know it. You said it yourself; you thought you were confrontin’ things you needed to.”

“Honestly, I thought I deserved to die,” Leia muttered. “That I should. That the galaxy would be better off without me.”

“See? I’m right. Sometimes, y’know, we all get lopsided and start thinkin’ things are one way when they’re really the other. And with what you’ve been through, I’d be surprised if you didn’t get a little lopsided sometimes. Look, I know you haven’t talked about it, but I’ve heard: the suicide rate among Alderaanian survivors is somethin’ else. Losing your whole planet… kriff, Leia, that kind of thing gets to your head, even if you aren’t a princess. You know what I think?” He caught her eyes again, and flashed a disarming grin. “I think you’re really strong for holding on for so long.”

Leia huffed, looking away. The sentiment was nice, but it rung hollow. “Strong or not, I had a duty, and I failed.” She blinked back tears. “Sometimes I wonder if my parents see everything I’ve done, everything I’ve become, and regret adopting me. If being the cause of their deaths and the death of our planet wasn’t enough for them to despise me from beyond the grave, then this ought to be.”

Han rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in mock exasperation. “Okay, so you briefly tried to get yourself killed. You were lopsided and felt like you were doin’ the galaxy a favor. You know how much that changes how I feel about you? Zip. Zilch. Nada. Nothin’ like that could ever change the fact that I love you. And nothin’ like that could ever make your parents quit lovin’ you, either, not from what I know about ‘em.”

Leia’s breath caught. Her mouth hung open, speechless. Had he really just said those three words?

Han went on as if nothing monumental had happened. “You carry so much guilt, Leia, and you don’t have to. You’ve always done the best you could. You’ve fought through hell like nobody I’ve ever seen, and helped a million people while you’re at it. Believe me, Princess, you’re one of the best damn things to happen to the galaxy. Your parents would be kriffin’ proud.”

Leia sat frozen. Her arguments were being eclipsed, one by one. Finally she found her voice, quiet and shaky, but clear:

“You love me?”

In answer, Han gathered her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “Yes, your worshipfulness,” he murmured in her ear, chuckling. “I’ve been doin’ a terrible job of it, but I’ve been tryin’ to tell you that for years.” Tears sprung fresh to Leia’s eyes as he lowered her down on the bunk. With every ounce of passion and strength she possessed, she did her best to respond without words, and all she knew for a long time was the feeling of his lips on hers.

~~~

They rolled onto their sides, and Han kissed a line down the side of her neck, his fingers wound tight in her hair. Leia’s breath hitched at the sensation, and she pulled him closer, running her fingers down his spine, catching his lips again. When they came up for air Han murmured it again: “I love you.”

He looked so vulnerable, lying there beside her, saying those words over and over as if making up for lost time. She could sense his longing to hear her say them back, and she wished desperately that she could.

Because she did love him. She knew it in every fiber of her being: a love so immense it seemed like it would explode from her in a neverending fountain of light and color. A passion so deep she could fall into it forever and never return.

And that, precisely, was the danger.

Han’s face, betraying a flicker of hurt, relaxed at her expression of consternation. “Sshhh,” he whispered, and he kissed her again, more gentle this time. Tears welling once more, she leaned into him harder, trying to pour into him everything she couldn’t say, everything she hoped he’d understand. But he pulled back and searched her eyes, fingers brushing loose hair from her face. Then, tenderly, deliberately, he planted one last kiss on her forehead and rolled out of bed. It felt cold and empty without him. “Only as far as you’re ready for, sweetheart,” he murmured. He turned and left the room.

Leia wasn’t sure how it was possible for her to feel all at once so happy and so very wretched.

~~~

Han seemed glum the rest of afternoon; Leia was certain she wasn’t imagining it, despite the fact that he always flashed her a grin whenever she was near. She ached knowing that she was the source of his hurt and there was little she could do to make it better.

At first she had given him some space. She tried to write down a few words about everything on her datapad, but that was soon tossed, once again, to the side. She attempted to bury herself in another illegally-downloaded novel, but she couldn’t focus on it.

He doesn’t want space, she realized. He wants you.

Sighing, she wandered out of the crew quarters and down the corridor. The sound of welding beckoned her to the circuitry bay.

“Hey, Princess,” said Han all-too-cheerily, lifting up his goggles as he turned to greet her.

“Hey there, hot shot. Can I help?” She watched as several different emotions warred on his face, and she would have laughed if she weren’t so heart-stricken. He was never as good at hiding them as he thought he was. Affection—and the desire to have her as close as possible—soon triumphed.

“Uh, sure,” he said. “You can calibrate some of the sensors I just got back online.”

“All right.” She picked up the holo-probe from where it was lying on the floor. Han went back to his welding, sparks flying, and she went to work on the sensors.

The silence between them lay heavy. The memory of their first kiss, right here in this cramped space, made Leia ache for more despite herself.

She swallowed. Stop it, she told herself. That won’t help anything. For the first time, the thought occurred to her that she might end up being the one to break Han’s heart, rather than the other way around. He had laid his heart on the line, and if she never told him she loved him, if she were never willing to jump all the way in, if she just kept stringing him along…. I can’t tell him, she reminded herself. He’s going to leave. I can’t take another loss.

But… she didn’t want him to have to bear that pain, either. Her heart sunk.

Maybe she needed to back off. For his sake, as well as her own.

She tried to focus on her work. Too often, though, she found herself stealing sideways glances, studying him, committing each feature to memory: that mop of brown hair, as scruffy and enticing as always. His muscular arms, rippling beneath his shirt. His rough hands, so careful and precise as he set down the welder, peeled off his gloves, and sank wrist-deep into a tangle of wiring. His face, frowning in concentration, a thin mask guarding over the vulnerability that was as always hidden just beneath the surface.

Taking off his goggles with a toss of his head, Han reached up past her to activate the panel he had just finished working on. Leia closed her eyes, willing herself not to focus on the nearness of his chest.

“You havin’ trouble?”

“What?” She opened her eyes, focusing them back on her work.

“The holo-probe actin’ up?” He hadn’t moved away.

“I—”

Reluctantly, inevitably, her eyes flickered up to find his. Yes, there was the hurt she was dreading to see, and the fear, and the… fiery determination? Her lips parted in surprise. Without another word, he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately, pushing her back against the wall like he had done two weeks before. Leia sunk into it at first, desperate to close the gap between them, until she recovered her senses. She jerked her head to the side.

“Han, wait, I—”

He held a finger up to her lips. “Don’t,” he murmured. “It’s all right.”

“But I—”

“I knew when I said it that you wouldn’t—that you couldn’t say it back. Not yet. It’s okay, Leia.”

“No, it’s not. You’re—”

“Sure it is. We’re goin’ at your pace, remember, sweetheart?”

“Stop interrupting me!” Leia lashed out, frustrated. “Listen: you’ll be leaving soon. I don’t know how I’d live with myself if… if I never… but I can’t… Han, can’t you see we’re flying straight into our own graves? We’re going to lose each other. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t—”

“Leia, I’m gonna try and come back—”

“I’m sorry, Han, but maybe we should just… stop this.”

Han froze. Leia looked away, trembling. The future once more was winding down into bleakness; she’d just have to face it and find the strength to move on, somehow.

Then slowly, Han let out a breath. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, catching her eyes again, “there are worse things out there than havin’ something great and then losin’ it. One of those is never havin’ anything to begin with. That’s the whole damn reason we decided to try this out in the first place.”

She blinked, forcing back the edge of the familiar panic, focusing in on his words.

“Now, I’m not ready to back down yet, and I don’t think you are either—and no, you don’t have to say or do anything to prove it to me. I get it. You can’t. But as for me…” he brought his hand up to caress the side of her head, tracing his thumb along her hairline. He shook his head. “…Blast it, Leia, I love you. You’re worth it to me, no matter what happens. All of the consequences, all of the whatever afters—as far as I’m concerned, they can all go straight to hell.”

She looked up into his eyes, searching. Finally, she raised a tremulous eyebrow. “You really mean that, don’t you?” she whispered.

He nodded gravely.

She exhaled, feeling a mixture of sadness and relief. Reaching up her hand, she gently brushed the hair off his brow. “You always were a reckless one, flyboy,” she murmured.

“That’s why you like me.” He grinned roguishly, resting his arm back on the bulkhead above her and leaning in closer. “Now, where were we?”

The bleakness was dissipating, replaced by cautious hope; replaced by him. While a part of her heart still smoldered with fear, she clung to the truth of his words and the sincerity with which he had spoken them.

There are worse things than having something great and then losing it.

You’re worth it to me, no matter what happens.

Somehow, she felt as if a great weight were lifting off of her, slowly fading through the walls of the ship to disperse, free, in the aether.

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dearjacobwren · 5 years

Text

Dearest Dragha,

Thanks a lot for your last letter. I've just re-read it. You know that you are the last one that still sends me real letters? Jaap either stopped, or keeps sending them to the wrong address. Probably he lost count of numerous address changes in my recent nomadic past :)

It's a beautiful thing – seeing that there is a proper letter waiting for me in the mailbox. Usually I postpone the moment of opening the envelope until later in the day, until I feel like it's the right time. What that means is that I carry the unopened letter in my pocket (that I think about all day long), and I masochistically wait to be in an appropriate space and in the right state of mind so I could really dedicate myself to it and read it properly. As if the letter were a gift. Christmas or a birthday present.

Which reminds me

As a kid I was suuuper hyperactive, one of the most impatient kids ever. I'd often get these crazy outbursts of energy - I didn't know what to do with my body, so I'd usually do a crazy energetic dance or hang from the top of the wardrobe whilst singing my favorite pop song (my mother used to call these moments 'žuta minuta'). When I look back at it, it seems quite pathological to the extent at which I wasn't able to harness my excitement :)

On Christmas eve I usually couldn't get to sleep. I’d be shaking and sweating in my bed hoping that Christmas morning would happen IMMEDIATELY, and after a couple exhausting hours, I'd finally enter theizbrisi 'the' pliz dream land, but not for too long. I'd wake up in the middle of the night, get up, run to the living room, stand in front of the Christmas tree and marvel at the presents underneath it. I'd cover myself with a blanket and wait until my mother woke up and start her morning routine. She'd see me, tell me off because I didn't sleep at all, but then she'd allow me to open my present.

Christmas presents were always a downer, because my parents are those who think that they should be of use. Meaning, no toys ('you have enough Lego bricks to play with'), no candies ('bad for your teeth'), no new clothes ('your brother's pants fit you well'). Literally everything that I liked at the moment of growing up (music, books, films etc.) was off the list ('your taste changes rapidly from year to year, we don't plan to satisfy every capricious wish of yours').

Still, that never made my Christmas orgasm less intense – after the manic act of tearing the wrapping paper and excitedly admiring what I'd gotten (usually a pack of socks, a pair of underwear or a pack of empty video cassettes plus a chocolate), I'd pass out on the sofa in the living room cause the exhaustion of not having slept for more than an hour the night before was just too much for my tiny body.

And look how far I've got. I resisted my desire to open your letter immediately, kept it in my pocket for almost the whole day until I found the right moment. I even enjoyed procrastinating this crazy letter ceremony.

I know how to harness my excitement, I'm all grown up now. My mother would be so proud. If she only knew.

* * *

'What's on your big mind right now?', Charlie asks me sometimes. Actually, he poses this question every time he sees me fading away, when he notices I stopped perceiving the outside world. It's happened quite often lately.

He knows that there is something on my mind all the time – even whilst I'm brushing my teeth, peeling the potatoes, cleaning the toilet or having my daily tea ceremony. He also knows that these silent conversations are playing out very loud in my head. Sometimes I argue with people, sometimes I'm analyzing an argument I've just read in the newspaper, and sometimes I'm trying to unpack what's behind apparently benign comments creepy posh guests say all the time in the hotel where I work.

Charlie says that it looks fun my little performance. I make faces, I do small gestures with my hands, I nod and shake my head, I sigh and laugh. Usually this imaginary conversing is happening in complete silence, I don't say a word, but sometimes a part of the sentence unawarely slips out of my mouth. These are his favorite moments.

He can be funny too. Often I see his hands moving, his fingers flying over an imaginary piano, even when his mind is occupied with another activity. 'What's the tune?', I ask him in the same manner he asks me what's on my mind. He looks at me with his big eyes, as if he was caught stealing, then smiles, relaxes and sings out the tune that was stuck in his ear. Together we come across like two weirdos, him with his inaudible excercises, me with my invisible conversations. If our friends only knew.

I'd like to share one of the things that happened not so long ago, that I have been coming back to ever since it unfolded. It was one of those Dragha situations, I immediately thought of you the second it happened, instinctively I knew you'd be excited to hear about it.

You remember that amazing flea market next to our old house, right? Well, on the same square there's a swimming pool. Building from the sixties, public showers are on the ground floor, swimming pool is on the third floor. I go there once a week, usually sometime in the early afternoon, just before lunch. At that time of the day two out of six lanes of this 25meter long pool are reserved for swimming courses for preschoolers and kids not older than 10.

I hate kids in swimming pools, especially where the rules are not strict. And of course that in this one pool guards just don't give a fuck. So the kids are allowed to constantly switch between the lanes or jump on other people whilst they are swimming. I get super annoyed cause I have to stop, change the technique and my breathing routine, talk to them and ask them to go to the part of the pool designated to their class if they don't want to be attentive to the rest of the crowd.

So one day I was doing my swimming routine and realized it was getting impossible to swim because the waves were bigger than usual. I stopped and saw a group of at least 25 preschoolers jumping in the water in the most absurd way possible, I guess they had a competition who could do the funniest jump. They were screaming all in the same voice plus throwing all the swimming accessories at each other (boards, fins, paddles, caps, goggles and various other items). But what I found shocking was that the instigator of this infernal pool carnival was their own coach, a thirtysomething straight white guy who was acting as if he was 10 again and it seemed like he was enjoying himself big time.

It all lasted 15-20 minutes, and at first I was shocked. 'The rules have to exist, how on earth can I finish my routine if this is how you teach kids to behave in a pool?' a small nazi in me was already silently arguing with the guy responsible for this bacchanalia.

But then I went to the side, took a small break and remembered one eerie moment I experienced a couple of years before in a public swimming pool in Amsterdam. The situation was almost the same - it was the same part of the day, late morning or early afternoon, 25 meter pool, 2 lanes reserved for preschool swimming classes. It's just that this pool was taken care of - recently built on one of the canals close to centre, everything new, sleek Dutch design, lots of windows, natural light etc. The parents were even allowed to sit next to the pool (they had to were these special shoe covers that surgeons wear in operating rooms) so their kids would be more assured during their first swimming lessons.

Since kids were dressed up normally (meaning outside clothes, they weren't wearing swimsuits), I thought it was one of their first classes where teachers are just giving a preparatory 'theoretical' introduction. But what happened after the presentation was super strange. Kids had to jump in the pool with their clothes on. It was a really weird moment – a group of ten completely dressed six and seven year-olds (wearing pants, shirts, jackets, even sneakers!) struggling to repeat movements they'd just learned from their coach, but this time in the water. After a couple of minutes of struggling, the instructors had to help get them out of the pool because their clothes were wet and heavy, poor kids couldn't carry their weight all by themselves.

I approached one of the parents and asked them what type of course that was and why kids were obliged to swim with their clothes on. I got an answer that it is a non-swimmers course and that the point of the lesson is that kids need to learn what to do if they fall off a boat into the sea.

I kind of got it, but I wasn't convinced. I tried to put myself in their skin – you're six, you don't swim, you are probably afraid of water, it's your first time at the swimming pool, it's a completely new setting, semi-naked people wandering around doing silly exercises in and out of water, and then your teacher tells you to jump in the pool, move your limbs in the manner he showed just a minute ago even though you're wearing heavy wet clothes and you have no idea how to move your hands and legs to keep your head above the water. I was trying to imagine how it must have felt for those poor kids struggling to swim wearing jeans and sneakers.

I mean, it's not a drama, it's not like I'm describing a domestic violence situation. A group of ten six-year-old non-swimmers trying to cope in the water with their clothes on, ça va. Still, what bothered me is that I intuitively realized that none of those kids are ever going to return to the swimming pool after they've finished with their swimming course. They will learn how to swim properly, they will master the technique and what to do in an emergency situation, but they will hate swimming forever, or at least until they decide to fight off their childhood water trauma.

That was the Amsterdam memory that came back to my mind whilst I was on my short break in the pool and looking at the first group of kids, this time 25 six- to ten-year-old going completely wild whilst[izbrisi ovaj whilst pliz] doing whatever they wanted on one of their first swimming classes. Goggles, boards, fins and other swimming accessories were being thrown everywhere, in and out of water, 10 tiny girls were trying to submerge their coach, and a couple of them were trying to undress him. He was fighting them off, laughing super loud. The rest of the kids were running around, uttering screams I never thought human beings were able to produce, and jumping in the water in the most unimaginable ways. One preschooler even took his swimming trunks off, was parading around completely naked and proudly showing his butt to his friends.

(Btw I remembered one of my colleagues at work telling me that the problem with kids these days is the diet. You can't expect they'd act normal if you feed them with chocolate and Haribo candies all the time. She said of course all the kids are crazy these days, they're sweating sugar, and they have this manic sugar rushes all day long).

Looking at those kids I realized that I'm not going to swimming pool because I want to learn how to react if I fall off a boat into the water, nor because I think it's an useful activity that could help save other people's lives. There's nothing pragmatical pragmatic about it - I just like swimming because it makes me feel good. As simple as that.

If swimming teacher that was having fun whilst fighting off the oversugared over sweetened hyperactive girls that were trying to undress him was by any chance trying to do the same thing any of the existing swimming pools in Amsterdam, he would be fired in less than a week. His teaching skills just wouldn't be appreciated there. The number of concerned parents who were present on their kids' first swimming class in the swimming pool in Amsterdam was quite astonishing, and lets me think that the class of people who think overparenting is the only way of raising their kids is not growing, but it has become a new normal.

On the contrary, these kids here were just having fun, as simple as that. And I'm sure that at least half of them will come back to the swimming pool on weekends or on their school break. And if only half of those succeed in developing a healthy approach to their bodies, it's a lot already.

At the same time, what they managed to learn during this completely anarchic swimming class is a feeling, one might even say a skill, that their Amsterdam peers will probably never acquire in their whole life. They learned how to overcome their fear of water. The method used might have been completely un-methodical and unreflected, but it was successful. And i'm sure that in the situation of 'emergency' (in case a kid falls off a sailing boat or off a cruise ship, as one of the parents in Amsterdam told me), a child without fears stands better chance of surviving than the one who got the knowledge in the 'proper' way.

As I have already said, the swimming teacher that lets his THEIR pupils run around a swimming pool naked whilst throwing swimming accessories at random visitors would have been fired anywhere else but here. Here nobody cares.

2011 was Amsterdam, 2019 is Brussels. It's by no means heaven here. But on that day on my short break in the swimming pool on Place du Jeu de Balle whilst I was watching the most anarchic swimming lesson I've ever seen in my life, a strange, but pleasant feeling got over me. I felt like I know why I'm here and not there.

* * *

I don't enjoy art anymore. I really don't. And it's not like I don't try – I go to theatre and galleries as religiously as before, sometimes even a couple of times a week. But it really doesn't work for me as it used to.

It's not a new thing this art disdain, it has been growing in me for awhile now, and I have become aware of it ever since I moved to Brussels. I tried to unpack this aversion in conversations with Charlie. Once he told me that I have to become bourgeois in order to enjoy art again.

I have been coming back to this thought quite often recently. Three weeks ago I saw this piece performed by members of an art organization from Brussels, a safe space where refugees and recent immigrants to the city can work on their artistic ideas and develop them with the help of settled (legally speaking) Belgian citizens. The majority of 15 performers in the show were people of color that are active as artists and participants of various workshops that take place there.

I would love to be able to say that they were performing. It seemed more like they were puppeteering. The thing is, most of the credit for their work went to a white straight Western European guy that usually works as a scenographer (that's what Wikipedia says), but in this piece he was responsible for 'artistic direction'. The show got standing ovation, almost every night apparently. Audiences were praising how daring this piece was, both artistically and politically.

Unfortunately after the piece not a single person that I talked to and that was smitten by its profound political, ecological, and social commitment (this is an actual quote from a panegyric published in one daily newspaper) seemed to be concerned with the fact that performers were paid merely 10 euros for a show.

A couple of months before, I'm not so far from the place where I recently saw this piece, this time it's a smaller scale program,program; 4 young writers in a relatively unknown studio space are reading excepts excerpts of their work. It was an evening organized by writers themselves, big institutions weren't involved, so I didn't fear that I was going to be confronted with a work of a yet another young Western European maker that was going to change the world with His radical take on art and politics that involves unpaid immigrant labour.

The event went well. Writers seemed humble, well aware of their vulnerability, especially in a situation where they needed to perform in front of an audience, no matter the fact that there were no more than 20 people in the room and that they knew most of the faces that came to their reading.

There was this guy, in his late 20s, curtain haircut straight from the 90s, tiny round glasses, acute level of social awkwardness. I could barely hear him even though he was using a microphone. Before he started reading he gave out a couple of copies of his publication so we could follow his poem in written form. Thin books he shared with us looked a bit like anarchist zines I used to read when I was a teenager.

His poem was long and senseless, and in the book he was playing with different fonts and typefaces. It was fun hearing his timid voice and at the same time following it in written form, realizing how he graphically organized his text.

I didn't dislike the show, it didn't make me angry or sad. But during and after it, I had only one question on my mind. As much as I wanted, I just I couldn't get it out of my head all night long. 'How do you pay your bills?', I wanted to ask him. 'Do you poems cover your rent?', was on repeat on my mind after every sentence he uttered. I went home thinking about the connection between the amount of money on artist's bank accounts and the type of art they're putting out in the world.

Fuck, I'm becoming really bitter, my mind is corrupted with these sinister ideas, I thought the next day. Fuck, I thought the next day, that I'm becoming really bitter, that my mind is corrupted with these sinister ideas. But then, I gave it a second thought and I realized that there was something in his lecture that made me think of this guy's bank account. There was something present in his voice, a specific quality of his behaviour, the way he was holding himself, his pronunciation, that made me think that this guy has never spent one single day of his life having a job outside of claustrophobic art world. Not a single day spent serving people behind the bar, counting money at the till, sorting products on the shelves in a supermarket, or chopping onions in the restaurant. Not a single day of experience that marks the last 10 years of my life, ever since I left my uni.

Let me be clear, I am not cynical. I'm not retreating to irony. This is not where my mind's at now. Nor I would like to personally attack this guy for what he is or how much money he has. I'm more trying to understand how am I supposed to connect to his work having in mind all the differences that structure and organize our everyday life? How to empathize with his poetic abstraction, how to enjoy in his imagination knowing that the way he makes use of his own time bears no resemblance to how my daily schedule looks like?

Polyamorous Love Song, the book I'm sending with this letter, didn't drastically change my opinions on art. It didn't make me a believer again nor did it give me reasons to fight off my lapse from art grace. Why is it here in the same package as this letter (aside from the fact that it's a part of Jasna's project :)) is that there's this thought by the end of the book that might help me in formulating why I feel what I feel recently.

Pop songs that we know of are all monogamous, no matter how open-minded the artist is. Serge Gainsbourg and Britney Spears have one thing in common: the both wrote songs (yes, it might be hard for you to believe, but Britney was involved in the process of creation of her own music) whose addressee is one single person. 'Love songs are propaganda for monogamy', as Mr. Wren (better said, one of the narrators in the book) would say.

Imagine a world were where love songs are not monogamous, I read a couple of pages later. Envisage an universe where pop songs are dedicated to various individuals. How would that change our perception of reality? If we lived in a possible world where pop songs we hear on the radio, sing in our showers, stream and share are not dedicated to one single person, but to a lot of different people at the same time, would our feelings be shaped differently because we'd have a language for something that exists outside of daily perceptions of the contemporary reality we are living in at the moment?

I remember well, in 2012 I saw a movie Weekend by Andrew Haigh. Have you seen it? The main characters are two guys, late 20s, early 30s, one is artist, other pool lifeguard, they hook up one night in a gay bar, start hanging out. The plot is set in England (I can't remember where), and doesn't cover a long stretch of time, only a couple of days. It mostly consists of their conversations about love, life, sex, coming out, gay marriages etc and their unimportant everyday life rituals like drinking coffee or cycling around.

I didn't experience a massive catharsis during the film, but I can still recall that a deep feeling of sadness hit me after I came back home from the cinema. The morning after the feeling was still there. It wasn't suffocating, but for the whole week after seeing the film whatever I was up to I could sense a feeling of soft and profound fragility that permeated all my actions. A type of vulnerable sensitivity impregnated my whole being.

I knew what instigated this state, and I was aware that it started after I've seen the film. But I didn't feel like it was one of the top ten films I've ever seen. I tried to analyze why I'd been so moody and realized that that was probably the first time in my life that on big screen I've seen a queer film where one of the gay characters doesn't die, isn't beaten up, castrated or raped, isn't ostracised by their community and where gay relationship isn't portrayed like a fucking war zone. The story of Weekend is simple – two gay guys hook up and spend couple of days together, eating, fucking, cooking, drinking coffee, chatting. Of course that there are consequences to my emotional wellbeing if gay reality in every film I'd seen until 2012 is depicted as tragedy.

Imagination is a powerful tool. And I'm not talking just about the under- and mis-representation of sexual and gender minorities on big screens. It's also about the fact that in 2019 I find absolutely necessary that we start treating art spaces as safe(r) spaces. Violent imagination in art works i'm seeing lately reproduces and reinforces the same power logic that exists outside of art world. The more time I spend finding the examples of an influential nature of aesthetic experience, and its complicity in the formation of how we perceive the world, how impregnated our minds are with what we've seen on TV and heard on the radio, the more I find non-negotiable the idea that artists should be accountable for the artistic universe that they present, and that only in safe(r) spaces a different type of creative imagination has the potential to emerge.

I don't think my art disdain will merely disappear once I become bourgeois (though I am glad to announce that this might finally happen quite soon). Even with more money on my bank account I will think that there are theatre makers and choreographers whose works are producing serious damage to our collective imagination, who don't recognize that this sacred ideal of Western European romantic tradition called freedom of artistic expression has it's its clear borders.

This idea from the last chapter of the book that pop songs not only depict but they also create is one I find truly revolutionary. Yes, we do need polyamorous love songs to change our boring monogamous reality :) But it's not just about non-monogamous pop songs, it's about the all forms of possible lives and existences that we sometimes successfully, sometimes tragically, but definitely very intuitively, are trying to articulate in our charged 2019.

Read the book and pass it on please. I'm sure you'll find someone interesting to share your thoughts with.

What about the swimming pool lesson? I don't know. I had a thought about the alternative ways of fighting my own fears of becoming creative being again and another thought about my new bank card, and another one about the updating the definition of the working class and another one on the different shades of whiteness and Western European wannabe radicals, but then I totally lost the connection with the rest of the letter :) Next time, I promise.

How's your new cyborg life? I want to hear everything. Come for a visit please, it's about time.

I love you, hope to see you soon XX p

ps Jasna's explanation is here! More on http://dearjacobwren.tumblr.com/

'So, I am giving this book to you, as a present. I am giving it to you, but on one condition. Or actually two. The first one is that you read it. The second is that, upon reading it, you do the same as I did: you think of a friend who you think might like it, who you think will be a nice addition to our small community, you give it to him/her as a present and along with it, write a letter to explain why you think this person and this book might go so well along. Then you give them the letter and the book, and you forward the letter to me, so I could publish it here.

You decide on the length of the letter, I am just asking for the language to be English so that more people could understand it… and, of course, at the end of the letter you make a small note about this principle so that when your friend is done with reading, he or she can send it to the next person, including a personalized letter, so that this circle could go on expanding…'

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djinmer4 · 5 years

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Telling the Truth (Misnamed Soulmates AU)

Kurt rang the doorbell and waited. After a few minutes, Mr. Sefton opened the door with a frown. “Wagner,” he said in a chilly tone.

“Uhm, guten tag, Herr Sefton. I’m here to see your daughter again.” Kurt waved and cringed. Thanks to Toad, he hadn’t made a good impression on the Seftons in the first place and they’d never gotten over it. Mr. Sefton hadn’t banned Amanda from seeing him but he made it pretty clear he didn’t approve. Tonight wasn’t going to improve his opinion of Kurt.

“Amanda didn’t mention anything about the two of you having a date tonight.”

“We’re not. I just need to talk to her about something.” The man moved aside and pointed Kurt up the stairs. “You can see her but no funny business. Keep the door open and her mother and I will be passing by to make sure the two of you haven’t crossed any lines.”

“Jawohl, meine Herr.” The German wasn’t helping but Kurt was too nervous to care. He walked up the stairs (no teleportation in the house) and knocked on Amanda’s door.

“Kurt? It’s great to see you but what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be studying for finals?” She pulled him in and tried to close the door but remembering Mr. Sefton’s words, Kurt used his tail to keep it open. When she opened her mouth to object, he shook his head and pointed down to where her father was watching. Understanding the gestures, Amanda left the door as is and went to sit on her bed. “So . . . “

“Amanda, we need to talk.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Vas? Why do you ask that?”

“Well, it’s sort of cliche, isn’t it? If two people get together in private and one of them says they need to talk, and they're not on some sort of crime drama, then it usually means one of them is having doubts about their relationship.”

Kurt winced and sighed. “I’d like to say you’re wrong . . . but that is what I’m here for. Yes, Amanda, I’m breaking up with you.”

“Why? Is it because I’m not a mutant?”

“Nein, that has nothing to do with it.”

“Or because I won’t put out?”

“Natürlich nicht!”

“I-I don’t know what that means.”

“Of course not. We’re way too young to be having kinder in the first place.”

“So what is it then? Are you just tired of me?”

“I met my soulmate.”

A pregnant pause filled the air. “You have a soulmate?”

“Ja.”

“Is this a new thing? Was she . . . or maybe he just born?”

“I’ve had a soulmark since I was two years old.”

“Wait, you’ve known you had a soulmate all this time and you didn’t tell me?” Kurt nodded and hung his head. Amanda digested the words for a moment then slapped him.

The German’s head rocked with the blow, and he looked up with wide eyes. “You deserve that. I would have entered this relationship very differently if I knew a soulmate was potentially involved.”

“I guess I do.” He rubbed his cheek.

“So what made you decide that now was the perfect time to break up? Did you just meet this person?”

Kurt rubbed his cheek thoughtfully and scooted the chair back. Amanda got one punch, anything else and he’d strike back. “No, actually I met her three years ago. I think I met you first but I’m not sure.”

“So let me get this straight, you’ve known you had a soulmate for as long as you can remember, and you even met her a while back but you decided to enter a relationship with me anyway, and let me believe there was no one else involved. And now it’s been several months and you decide to break up with me out of the blue.” Amanda stood and looked out the window. Turning around, her eyes were filled with tears. “You’re a bastard, Kurt Wagner. You deserve more than just a punch to the face.”

“So says Rogue.”

“Is she your soulmate?”

“No, she’s my sister.”

“So who is your soulmate?” For a moment, Kurt contemplated not telling her, as it really wasn’t any of her business. But then he realized he wasn’t going to hide his relationship and Amanda would find out anyway. “Kitty Pryde.”

Surprise stopped the tears flowing down Amanda’s face. “Your best friend? I thought maybe it was a guy and you had been reluctant to get into more complications. Or maybe she’s the one who’s gay? I always thought her relationship with Lance seemed fake. Have you told her already?”

“Not yet. I thought it a better idea to break up with you first.”

“At least you had the decency to do that,” Amanda muttered and Kurt silently thanked Marie for steering him in this direction. “I guess you’ll be doing that when you leave here?”

“Maybe not. She doesn’t know yet. It’s complicated.”

“How?” When he shook his head, Amanda came back to the bed and gripped his chin forcefully, preventing him from looking away. “Kurt, you let me get into a relationship under false pretenses, stayed long enough for me to fall in love and are now breaking up with me by revealing that you lied to me for months! You owe me an explanation and some proof!”

“Proof?” He thought for a moment, then tapped the heavy watch he wore. Amanda watched pale skin and blue eyes shudder and vanish, leaving blue fur and gold irises in its wake. Once the illusion was gone, he shrugged out of his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head. In any other circumstance, Amanda would have been all over him at that point. In this case, she was only focused on the rose gold lettering over his heart. “Katherine Anne Pryde. You’ve known her this long, and you’ve never told her either?”

“Oh no, she knows. It’s just . . .” Amanda’s grip got vicelike as if he was going to run away before explaining everything. She was probably right to do so. “It’s just that her soulmark says ‘Michael Sebastian Darkholme’.”

Amanda wasn’t an idiot. Kurt had explained what happened to the former Principle Darkholme and his connection to her. She put two and two together easily. “So the reason you’re breaking up with me . . . you only found out about your real name on that last mission you did.” He nodded silently.

She let go and pulled away. "Go away, Kurt. I don’t want to see you ever again right now. I can’t even think through the pain and the anger and I don’t want to do or say something I’ll regret later.” Kurt nodded silently, not that she could see, and left the room. She’d have to see him on Monday but he’d give her the space she asked for right now.

As he climbed down the stairs, he saw Mr. Sefton frowning and only remembered to pull on his shirt and reactivate his holowatch then. The older man’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to say something but Kurt cut him off. “Don’t worry, I won’t be back. And please tell her I’m sorry for hurting her.” He got out the door as fast as possible and teleported back as soon as he found a semi-isolated area.

“So dude, what’s up with you and Amanda?” asked Bobby through a mouth full of food.

“Ick! Swallow before you talk, Bobby!” complained Kitty, she and Marie moving from across him to sit next to Kurt.

“Sorry,” Iceman swallowed. “But really, what gives? The two of you have been avoiding each other all morning.”

It took a lot more than bad table manners to diminish Kurt’s appetite. “We broke up this weekend.”

“Oh, Kurt! I’m so sorry to hear that!” Kitty leaned over and gave her best friend a hug. From over her shoulder, Rogue gave him an approving nod and turned back to her meal.

“Wait, you said you guys broke up,” Bobby was still hung up on that. “So did you dump her or did she dump you? And who’s fault was it?”

“I dumped her-”

“And it was his fault too.” The other X-Men looked up at Amanda with shock. “Hi, guys. Mind if I join you for lunch? I just don’t want to sit next to Kurt right now.”

Bobby and Rogue scooted over to leave room between them for Amanda. “Hey, not that we’re unhappy to see you, but I’m a little surprised,” said Bobby. “Didn’t you just break up with this joker? I woulda thought he’d be the last person you want to see.”

Amanda smiled, a bit wavery but still a true smile. “He is. But that’s not the fault of the rest of you. I’m not going to stop being friends with the rest of you just because he lied.”

Rogue gave her a confused but admiring look. “That’s really mature of you.”

“Thanks, but not really. I’m also here to enjoy the fallout once he explains what happened.” Bobby and Rogue turned around to see Kitty glaring at Kurt.

“Oh boy.”

#misnamed soulmate au #Kurt Wagner #Amanda Sefton #this is probably the nicest i'll eve be to amanda

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skammovistarplus · 5 years

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Culture and Translation - S01 E04

Slowly getting through these, although they’re out of order. I’ll post an index when I’m done with season 1. 🤦‍♂️

CLIP 1: A wild mom appears

22:30 is a perfectly cromulent time to have dinner in Spain, but ngl, I’d have it a bit earlier on a school night. Eva’s supposed to be at school at 8:30.

Eva is eating the Hacendado store-brand “natillas de vainilla” from Mercadona (vanilla custard). Lol can you imagine that Skam España gets enormous, and people from abroad make trips to Mercadona because of Skam España?

Pesada (“annoying”): Okay, I love “pesada” because it literally translates as “heavy,” but it actually means that someone is being annoying/nagging to the point where it feels tiring to put up with them. There’s an idiom in Spanish: “eres más pesado que una vaca en brazos” (you’re heavier than carrying a cow bridal-style) and I find the visual hilarious.

CLIP 2: Carrying their bags for some reason

This clip dropped at 11:39, but the characters are all carrying their bags and backpacks. You don’t take your backpack out for recess. You leave it in the classroom and take the valuable stuff with you. We don’t have lockers.

Ni de reojo (“Not even a glance”): Looking at someone “de reojo” is looking at them from the corner of your eyes, but that’d have been too long.

Bien, normal (“Good, fine”): In Spain we often use “normal” to respond to small talk (how are you doing, what’s the weather like, how was dinner with your family, stuff like that). I went with fine, as I haven’t really heard “normal” being used that way in English.

CLIP 3: Are these our biology buddies?

I do like the juxtaposition of Eva telling Nora everything is fine, only for Eva to UNLOAD on Lucas the very next clip.

I can’t watch this clip without remembering that I did the Social Sciences track of Baccalaureate, and yet, I had to translate a fucking optical microscope exercise for Skam. This fucking show.

Es que es muy heavy, Eva (“You crossed a line, Eva”): I also really like the Spanish slang “heavy.” It comes from heavy metal, and it’s meant to bring to mind the intensity of the harder heavy metal bands. And hey! It shows up on Urban Dictionary with the same meaning: Serious and intense, but also too much. I think this might be outdated slang in the US?

Y yo estaba rayada (“And I was going crazy”): I’m pretty sure that to be “rayado” comes from “discos rayados,” i.e. skipping records. When you’re “rayado,” you are stuck on a specific thought or emotion to the point of obsession or being unable to move past it. It’s NOT “sounding like a broken record,” as in English, because being “rayado” is internal. You’re stuck on a continuous loop within your own mind. It comes up several times throughout the show, and I’m pretty sure I used a different expression each time because nothing felt quite right.

Tú qué vas a decir (“Like you’d say anything different”): The literal translation would be, “what are you going to say.” However, that sounded like it could be a question, even a rhetorical one, when Eva is throwing Lucas’ words back in his face.

CLIP 4: Carrot cake

Carrot cake is a relatively new import in Spain. I think it’s trendy for coffee shops to have it on their menus now. Since it’s so recent, it was adopted with its English name, rather than the Spanish translation. This also applies to brownies, pancakes (which were actually called “tortitas” for a while, but now it’s become trendier to call them pancakes), muffins and cupcakes.

Aquí os quedáis (“I’m out”): Lucas actually says, “you stay here,” but the connotation is that Lucas is leaving because he’s Done with Eva and Jorge. Eva and Jorge can choose to stay or leave or do whatever, but Lucas is leaving and not taking Eva and/or Jorge with him.

Que aproveche, chicos (“Enjoy, you two”): Enjoy, as in enjoy your meal, of course! “Chicos” could be translated as “kids,” and when the teachers use it, I do translate it as kids. But the waitress is calling Eva and Jorge “chicos” just because they’re younger than her, not because she’s calling them children. You are either young enough to be “chicos” or old enough to be “señores.”

I mean, if Lucas is going to parent trap them, he could’ve at least paid for the cake. This entrapment with an unpaid bill is kinda rude!

CLIP 5: Nailing Viri

Eva has a palmera in her hand! See Wikipedia for info on this supposedly palm leaf-shaped pastry. The picture captioned “Pig’s ears” is closer to the one Eva has in this clip,

Un clavo saca otro clavo (“there are other fish in the sea”): The literal translation is, “a nail takes out other nail,” as in, the construction kind of nail. The connotations of both sayings are a little different. “There are other fish in the sea” has the connotation that you’ve been dumped, but there are plenty of people in the world for you to explore. “A nail takes out another nail” can mean you’ve been dumped or that your love is unrequited, and that the only way to get over it is to find someone new asap. I also found a debate in a translation forum over whether the nail in the idiom means a dick, as in, only by hopping on another dick you can get over the previous dick, and I can honestly say I have no idea if the idiom is about dicks or not.

Viri con la mierda (“Viri with the junk”): Viri actually says “Viri with the shit.” Haha. This girl squad is so gentle and well-spoken.

Quick note on grades: Grades can be 0 to 10, where 10 is the highest grade. You pass with a 5. Anything under 5 is a “failing” grade. 5 through 5.99 is a “passing” grade. 6 through 6.99 is a “good” grade. 7 through 8.99 is a “notable” grade. 9 through 10 is an “excellent” grade. Once you’re in university, you can also get an “honor roll” grade. Only one or two students can get that grade on a specific course. As far as I know, “honor roll” does not exist as a grade in Spanish primary schools, middle schools or high schools.

Encima se pica (“She goes and gets ticked off”): “Picar” literally translates to “to itch” or “to sting” (such as a bee or a wasp sting). If something “te pica” in the slang sense, it means something has offended you, and the speaker thinks it shouldn’t have. There’s a saying, “si te pica, te rascas,” which translates to, “if it itches, then scratch yourself.” It means that if the tea has been too hot, you don’t get to lash out, you need to deal with it. Cris is indignant that she’s trying to help Viri out by telling her the truth straight up, and Viri is offended, instead of grateful.

Una chica de cuarto (“A fourth grader”): Fourth grader as in being in her fourth year of Mandatory Secondary Education! A grade below the girl squad.

CLIP 6: Underage drinking

I don’t know where that tunnel is, and I desperately want to know. On that note, I was so fucking chuffed when the clip came out. I really didn’t think they’d even attempt a street drinking scene. They obviously had to have it a secluded place in order to keep the shooting a secret, but it works.

Okay, so my personal take on the call to prayer scene is this. The clip dropped at 20:07 on the 6th of October, and Isha (the fifth prayer) happened at 19:08 at the very latest. (There are several methods of calculation.) So Amira probably did pray before meeting up with the girls. However, once she took in their initial reactions, Amira might’ve wanted to see exactly how badly the girls would take it, so she pushed a bit harder. Committing to praying five times a day might also be new for Amira, and so she might’ve wanted to test those waters. Ngl, asking her to do it somewhere where nobody sees Amira is with them is pretty fucking bad.

A buenos días (“Good morning”): Jorge is doing one of his voices here. I guess he sounds a little like a rural old man. And yes, he says “good morning” even though it’s visibly dark outside the tunnel, lol.

There’s a conversation happening below the camera line and a bit aways from the mics. It’s hard to catch all of it, But Lucas drops the bag with the ice cubes and tells people to help themselves. Dilan grabs ice cubes with his bare hands, and Hugo calls him out for being gross. Dilan asks Hugo why he minds. Tbf to Dilan, a botellón is usually a gross affair with drinks being spilled, vomit, and sometimes piss, so touching the ice with your hands is small potatoes in comparison, lol.

Verdad o atrevimiento (“Truth or Dare”): For the record, the version I played was called Beso, Verdad o Atrevimiento (Kiss, Truth or Dare). I guess there’s a larger English language influence that’s made it more authentic to drop the Kiss option from the name, if not from the dares themselves.

Va lanzada (“going for it”): Lucas says Cris is “lanzada,” which literally translates to being launched, or going as fast as something being launched. Such as a rocket, for instance.

Pa mala yo (“I’m the badass”): Cris is quoting the Aitana and Ana Guerra song Lo Malo, which comes up again later in the season. The gist of the quote is that Cris has no need for bad boys, when she can be a bad girl herself.

Le dio un amarillo (“she had a whitey”): In case you’ve never heard of “a whitey” before, you can find a detailed explanation on Urban Dictionary, which corresponds 1:1 with the Spanish expression. I had to do a lot of research to find the best translation, so pls appreciate!

Fue muy borde contigo (“He was an ass to you”): “Borde” is yet another classic Spanish slang words. To be “borde” is to be rude for no reason. While it’s slang. It’s not a swear word, and it’s not rude to use. I went with “ass” as I figured it comes across as softer than “asshole.”

CLIP 7: Safety considerations are ignored

Both this clip and the clip before (which dropped at 20:07) generated a discussion in Spanish fandom spaces, specifically about when Spanish teens go out and what their curfews are. Lots of people felt Eva and her friends are going out too early and going back home early, as well. Part of the discussion has to do with something the remakes have shied away from: dropping clips at ungodly hours. As some might remember, during Isak’s season, clips would drop at 3 am because Isak was insomniac. So far, the remakes have held back on dropping clips during hours the target audience may not be awake to react to them, generate discussion on social media, etc.

Spanish people have a (not unearned) reputation of starting the party after dinner time (so 22:00-23:00) until dawn. That said, every teen has their own set of parents with their own set of rules. Personally, I didn’t have a curfew, but we were generally partied out by 4 am.

That said, if I’d been as wasted as Eva is in this clip, I’d have headed home at midnight, sure. Mostly ‘cause I’d have wanted to nap it out.

It makes me smile that Eva and Jorge are jay-walking. There’s no penalty for doing so in Spain, by the way. And especially in small towns or villages, where traffic is light and sidewalks not wide enough for more than one person, it is far more common for people to walk down the middle of the road, rather than using the sidewalks.

I don’t understand how Eva’s house works, by the way. That door makes it look like Eva lives in a detached house with a front yard, a fence and a gate. But we know from other clips that you can show up at Eva’s front door without needing to be let in through a gate. Also, there’s no window by the gate. You can definitely see a window by the door in the final clip.

My friends were shocked and appalled that Jorge would leave without ensuring Eva got inside her house safely, since she was so drunk and it’s past midnight. Grudges have been held.

The gagging noises at the 18:54 mark are poetic cinema.

#culture and translation #skam españa #skam spain #skames #skamesp

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