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#i went back in time and punched Hitler
demonologue · 1 month
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The F*ggotry
I am so very sorry to all the other companions, but after hearing the conversations Astarion, Gale, and Wyll have when they're all in my party? We're never going back. This is it. I'm keeping them.
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Also, I gave Gale AND Astarion find familiar, and now we have a kitten party😺❤️😻!!
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poppetsisters · 5 days
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I'm torn about captain America because on one hand he's a propaganda symbol but at the same time his shield is so fucking cool and he has the most timeless backstory of all time.
Though Captain America IS propaganda, I don't think he's propaganda in the way most people think. Captain America always stands for the American people, but that doesn't mean he stands for the American government. Mark Millar made that mistake when we adapted Steve Rogers to the Ultimate universe, and the depiction is panned by critics and meme makers even to this day.
To me, Captain America represents America's ideals more than he does America itself.
Take into account that Captain America was created before America itself entered World War 2. Joe Simon and Jack Kirby, both Jewish Americans, were seeing the horrors the Nazis were inflicting on the Jewish people overseas and America's complacency with it. They created Captain America as a power fantasy, imagining the embodiment of freedom and liberty literally punching Hitler in the face. If Captain America is propaganda, it's propaganda aimed at America itself to shed its apathy and stand up against fascism.
You have to remember, the idea of America getting involved in World War 2 was a controversial standpoint before Pearl Harbour shook the government out of apathy. Nazi sympathizers were outside Timely Comics protesting Captain America for being... well... too woke I suppose. Jack Kirby would've beat their ass had they stood their ground, instead revealing their yellow bellies the minute Jack Kirby rolled up his sleeves.
Captain America gets complicated after World War 2. Jack Kirby's service during the war changed him irreparably, theoretically giving him intense PTSD which he coped with through drawing. That's why he was so prolific, the poverty and violence he's experienced his whole life motivated every pen stroke.
During an interview with Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, they were both asked how they were going to explain Captain America coming back after a 20 year absence, and the two gave VERY different answers. Stan's answer is the lore we know today, but Jack's answer particularly struck me. He talks about how he believes Steve Rogers went into hiding after the war was finish, citing that a lot of veterans did that, feeling as if they didn't want to show their faces to the world... wanting to hide. It's very clear from the way Jack talks about Captain America that he's using him as a vehicle to traverse his own feeling and trauma surrounding the war. To me, this isn't propaganda so much as it is an artist venting through their OC.
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queen-of-the-avengers · 5 months
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CATFA: Part Five
Pairing: Ikaris x Female!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: canon violence and angst
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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The promise you made to Bucky will stand firm because you're not going to let anything happen to Steve. He's eager to get started, even after seeing his other recruits in boot camp. You're off to the side since you've already done this and are allowed to observe. A very slim young woman approaches the recruits with a serious look on her face.
"Recruits, attention! Gentlemen, I'm Agent Peggy Carter. I supervise all operations for this division."
"What's with the accent, Queen Victoria? Thought I was signing up for the U.S. Army," one of the recruits asks with a smirk.
"What's your name, soldier?"
"Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty."
"Step forward, Hodge," she orders, and he does as he's told. "Put your right foot forward."
"Mmm, we gonna wrassle? Because I got a few moves I know you'll like," he winks. 
Peggy pulls her fist back and punches him square in the jaw. He falls to the ground in shock as blood squirts out of his nose. The Colonel picks the right time to come in on a jeep.
"Agent Carter."
"Colonel Phillips."
"I see you're breaking in the candidates. That's good!" he turns to the fallen soldier. "Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention until somebody tells you what to do."
"Yes, sir," Hodge sniffles as he tries to keep the blood inside his nose.
"General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons," the Colonel begins, "but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men and because they're gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man. At the end of this week, we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldiers, and they will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell."
Steve has always had trouble trying to fit in wherever he went. This training camp was no different. The other recruits saw his size and immediately thought he couldn't do it. They made his life hell here, but Steve was a fighter. He never gave up even when things looked a little bleak.
When you were a recruit, you had gone through the same hell as them, only more difficult. Your recruitment officer wanted to make it as tough as possible to prove a woman couldn't do it. When you passed with flying colors, he knew you weren't an ordinary woman.
The recruits are doing their run around the camp, but you're hanging out with Dr. Erskine and Peggy in a jeep waiting for them to get to the halfway point.
"Y/N, I'd like to talk about your academy results if you don't mind," the doctor asks.
"What about them?"
Dr. Erskine and Peggy look at one another as if they know something you don't. He tries to get the words out of his mouth, but Peggy takes over.
"How you passed with such perfect scores."
"Hard work, I guess."
"Yes, that's what I thought until I looked at the footage." Dr. Erskine takes out photos that were developed from the footage since he can't show you personally. The first photo is of you alone in the camp when you thought no one was around to see you. The next photo is of you hunched over as you're in the middle of transforming into an animal. The third photo is of you as the animal. The fourth photo is you running away from the spot into the woods behind the camp. "Care to explain?"
"No," you shake your head.
"Not even the best candidates of your group got perfect scores, yet, you did. Now, unless you'd like me to show this to authorities, I suggest you start explaining."
Well, there is no use in lying to them now, so you come clean.
"I'm not human. I'm from a planet called Xenia, and I came to Earth nearly a thousand years ago. Believe me or not, I'm not the bad guy here. I'm a shapeshifting avatar that can control the elements. I can turn into anything and anyone as long as it's living."
To demonstrate, you use your aerokinesis and cause the wind to pick up. There are no clouds in the sky, but you solidify the water molecules in the air, causing them to sprinkle down onto the three of you. Peggy looks up in shock when she doesn't see any clouds above her.
"I once belonged to a government that only wanted to inflict pain. They were bullies. I put a stop to it, and I've been bouncing from planet to planet trying to help them. All I want here is to help," you say and cease all activity. Peggy and Dr. Erksine aren't nearly as shocked as you thought they were going to be. "You two don't seem that shocked."
"We're looking for someone to be experimented on with a serum we've created. It will enhance their speed, strength, and stamina. We like to say we're building a super soldier to help us win the war," Dr. Erskine reveals.
"We'd like your input."
"Sure." The unmistakable sound of feet stomping on the ground can be heard from where you are. The recruits are coming this way. "I guess it goes without saying that I'd like for my secret to remain a secret."
"We'll keep yours if you'll keep ours."
"Deal."
You look back and see everyone running in two lines, but Steve is all the way in the back and falling behind. Seeing him so battered and bruised makes you think about the promise you made to Bucky. Then, you think about Bucky and how you miss him so much. He's in England right now fighting for his life without you by his side. Maybe this weekend, when you have off, you'll fly over there and see how he's doing.
"That flag means we're at the halfway point!" the instructor points to a flagpole ten feet off to the side. "The first man to bring it to me rides back with Agent Carter! Move!"
All ten recruits rush to the flagpole and try to get to the flag, but they're all failing. Some try to climb it but only get a few feet off the ground. They try to help each other up, but none can pass the halfway point up the pole.
"Nobody's got that flag in seventeen years! Now fall back in line! Come on, fall in!" All the recruits fall back in line, but Steve hasn't gotten his turn to try. "Rogers, I said fall in!"
Steve looks at the flagpole and notices the base of it. There is a latch that can be undone. He pulls it free from the base, allowing the flagpole to fall to the ground in a defining thump. Everyone is shocked into silence when Steve grabs the flag. You and Peggy look at the instructor with smirks on your faces; you're kind of proud of Steve for using his brain. He hands the flag to the instructor and gets into the backseat of the jeep.
Once everyone gets back to the main area for training, it's time for more exercises. All the recruits need to do push-ups over and over again, and everyone does them well except for Steve. He's trying his best, but he can't seem to keep up with everyone else.
"Faster, ladies! Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!" Peggy barks orders at the recruits.
You're off to the side watching them when you notice Dr. Erskine and the Colonel talking by one of the keeps. The Colonel takes a grenade from the back, takes out the safety pin, and throws it into the pit of recruits.
"Grenade!"
If you don't do something soon, then it's going to blow up. You stick your hand out and use your aerokinesis to manipulate the air around the grenade to throw it somewhere else. All the recruits hide behind objects that could protect themselves, but Steve jumps on top of the Grenade to take the fall for everyone else. You, Peggy, the doctor, and the Colonel stare at him in wonder as the recruits look at him like he's crazy.
"Is this a test?" Steve asks when the grenade doesn't blow up.
He's proving to be the one they need for the serum, even if the Colonel doesn't think so. He's passed every test and done everything they've asked for regardless if it's harder for the other recruits to do it.
When it was clear who they were going to pick for the serum, Dr. Erskine came clean to Steve about what was really going on. Steve was apprehensive, but he was ready to take that final step. That final step leads you back to Brooklyn. You're in the car with Peggy and Steve and you can already feel some sort of tension. It's nothing bad, but it's definitely something.
"I know this neighborhood," Steve recognizes the area. "I got beat up in that alley, that parking lot, and behind that diner."
"Did you have something against running away?"
"If you start running and they'll never let you stop. So, you stand up and push back. Can't say no forever, right?"
"I know a little of what that's like. To have every door shut in your face."
"I guess I just don't know why you'd wanna join the army if you're a beautiful dame," Steve says. He realizes his choice of words and stutters out an apology. "Or a beautiful... a woman. An agent, not a dame! You are beautiful, but—"
"You have no idea how to talk to a woman, do you?" she interrupts him.
You snicker under your breath, and he lightly kicks your shin to get you to stop. It's his way of telling you to shut the fuck up.
"This is the longest conversation I've had with one. Women aren't exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on."
"You must have danced?"
"Asking a woman to dance always seems so terrifying. The past few years just didn't seem to matter that much. I'd figured I'd wait."
"For what?"
"The right partner." Peggy stares at him in admiration just as the car pulls up to an antique store. You're the first one out, then Peggy, and finally Steve. "What are we doing here?"
Peggy leads you two inside an antique store, and the owner comes out to greet Peggy.
"Wonderful weather this morning isn't it?"
"Yes, but I always carry an umbrella."
The owner gives her a nod, and Agent Carter leads you two to a bookcase in the back which opens up to reveal that they were, in fact, doors. She took the lead down to a hidden lab in a big circular room filled with machinery and a pod in the middle.
"Good morning," Dr. Erskine announces when he sees you. He shakes your and Steve's hands respectively. "Are you ready?"
"Yeah," Steve acknowledges.
"Good. Take off your shirt, your tie, and your hat," he commands. As soon as he achieves that, he climbs into the pod that is ready whenever he is. "Comfortable?"
"It's a little big. You save me any of that schnapps?" he asks the doctor.
"Not as much as I should have. Sorry. Next time. Mr. Stark, how are your levels?"
Howard Stark comes onto the platform, and you stare at him in admiration. He made an impression when you saw him at the Exposition of Tomorrow. It's fitting that he's working on this project since he's brilliant.
"Levels at 100%. We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we're ready as we'll ever be."
"Agent Carter? Don't you think you would be more comfortable in the booth?" the doctor inquires.
"Oh, yes, of course."
You turn to follow her, but Steve grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving.
"Stay, please."
"I'm right here," you whisper and stay by his side.
After a few moments of silence, the doctor picks up a microphone to talk to the people inside the booth as they watch from above.
"Ladies and gentlemen, today, we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step toward the path to peace. We begin with a series of micro-injections into the subject's major muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change. Then, to stimulate growth, the subject will be saturated with Vita-Rays."
Wow, if only Markus was this thorough with you back then. Another doctor in the room stuck a needle in Steve's arm and quickly injects whatever is inside.
"That wasn't so bad," Steve comments.
"That was penicillin," the doctor informs him. "Serum infusion beginning in five, four, three, two, one." 
The serum is injected into Steve's arm at the end of the countdown. The Doctor gives a thumbs-up to Howard, and the inventor pulls a lever that encloses Steve into the pod and stands him upright. Dr. Erskine walks to the tiny window and knocks on it. 
"Steven, can you hear me?"
"It's probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?"
"We will proceed," the doctor nods.
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re: Matt growing up learning that it isn't safe to trust other people vs Foggy learning the opposite THANK YOU!! Matt grew up a disabled ward of the state he definitely had Zero interest in becoming the first Enhanced disabled ward of the state (and not knowing whether that would elevate his status or somehow be worse). Especially with, in a way, the only precedent so far being Captain America immediately becoming and then dying as military property.
I think it’s especially interesting in the sense that Cap was meant to happily become and die military property.
Like, all Matt has is the propaganda, right? He doesn’t know the true story of Steve rogers. He has star spangled man with a plan. Cream of the crop, most noble of them all, first to volunteer and jumped on a grenade while waiting for them to set up the machine. He went to Germany to deliver a punch, express shipping, straight from the good ol’ United States Armed Forces to Hitler’s jaw. He sacrificed himself without hesitation—to the experiment, to the war, to a plane crash and rogue missiles. He was the eager and willing super solder of the U.S. Army.
And Matt knows that he’s not that.
Because Matt’s already had problem child stapled all over him, right? The uncooperative one. The flight risk. In and out of every single group home, foster care situation, orphanage. And he knows what people do to the ones who don’t cooperate.
Like, Matt was very plainly abused after his dad died—by stick, and likely by others. Even if some people didn’t actively abuse him, they probably neglected him or turned a blind eye. He leaves foster care with absolutely no ties or support system. Father Lanthom doesn’t know him at the start of Daredevil, despite him having grown up in the orphanage. He spots him on a bench outside the church, says “you’re jack murdock’s boy, aren’t you?” And that’s when their relationship really starts. So it’s evident that Matt, in all likelihood, cut ties with everyone when he left foster care. He didn’t keep up with the orphanage. We know father lanthom knew him in the orphanage, but Matt’s practically a stranger in season 1. The only one he’s implied to have kept in touch with from his past before Daredevil Season 1 is Fogwell, because we see him take Elektra to his gym and he says something about having to pay him back for breaking his window.
Like. People who have healthy connections or memories in their past don’t do that. He was literally raised by his childhood church, and he doesn’t seem to have so much as gone back for a single mass until he’s confessing to being a masked vigilante at the open of season 1. Matt cut and fuckin’ run so hard and fast out of the system that he might as well have left skid marks. The man wasn’t in a good place when he made that decision. He was running.
It’s pretty safe to say that Matt Murdock has got no fuckin’ plans on being the smiling soldier of the U.S. military, and all he knows about their one super soldier is that it was a guy who was purportedly enormously cooperative in his own weaponization and death. And the way he borderline disappeared from his own past implies a lot of mistreatment growing up. He’s not expecting anyone to accept his refusal to cooperate gracefully. He’s expecting what has happened every other time that he’s refused to fit in a happy little box, which is for him to get hurt.
Matt’s very much a product of the system, and it feeds into his expectations on whether they will take advantage of him. Foggy grew up in a family that was happy, good natured, and helped people out when they needed it. It’s gonna make their world views diametrically opposed, but they didn’t exactly sit down and hash out whether they think the world is a place that will abuse you with half an incentive at the original roommate meeting. Matt didn’t exactly share “hey these are all the ways I was abused growing up.” So Matt’s just learning the extent to which he can legitimately hurt people when he takes actions he’s been taking to protect himself for decades, and Foggy’s only just learning how normalized getting hurt was for Matt growing up
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denimbex1986 · 10 months
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'A whale or a lion or an earthworm is less inclined to go off in their heads than a human. No animal other than man suffers from congenital or acquired mental disorders such as depression or multiple personalities. We may hazard an explanation for this in the extremely complex and fragile wiring of our brains. Naturally, our default mode is insanity.
There is no reason why J Robert Oppenheimer, one of the most intellectually gifted, successful, and born-rich men of the 20th century, would suffer from bouts of depression till he died—of throat cancer in 1967.
Christopher Nolan’s eponymous movie, much debated, does everything right except bring alive the man’s torment, either before or after the bomb that Oppenheimer fathered and President Truman dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki—killing, according to one estimate, 2,20,000 people, most of them civilians.
Truman may not have been clinically mad, but he and his country had been fighting a war that cannot be said to be the finest expression of human reason. It must rub off in ways we are not equipped to tell because we are inside the matrix.
If those melted by the bomb, even one of them, were brought back to life by Nolan and confronted Cillian Murphy’s Oppenheimer, Oppenheimer’s remorse and guilt would have had an emotional punch the movie now lacks. Because when the dead come back, they always do so with more questions than the living can ever hope to answer.
In his essay on Gunter Grass, with special reference to the post-World War II novel, Crabwalk, J M Coetzee says: ‘Grass presents his apology for not having written and, sadly, for no longer having it in his power to write the great German novel in which the multitude of Germans (italics mine) who perished in the death throes of the Third Reich are brought back to life so that they can be buried and mourned fittingly … and a new page in history can at last be turned.’
Because of Oppenheimer’s connections at the time with the Communist Party of the US, he went through a sustained period of trauma, facing allegations of sedition and leaking sensitive information to the Soviet Union. Only as late as last December was he wholly rehabilitated, and the process by which his security clearance was cancelled (by the US Atomic Energy Commission in 1954) was declared ‘flawed’.
That a man who mastered nuclear forces and invented the atomic bomb for his country could be seen as an enemy explains how one’s fate is at the mercy of the careers of other men/women. If Hitler had remained a corporal as he was in World War I, content with the Iron Crosses he earned for his bravery and his soldier’s pension, and did not cherish a career in politics ending in his becoming the Fuhrer, millions might have had their lives spared. The role of an individual’s career in the destiny of civilisation yet awaits an author.
Indeed, had Oppenheimer’s ambition and drive for power not been so aggressive, he would not have accepted the post of director at Los Alamos Laboratory, which birthed the bomb.
In the movie, one of Oppenheimer’s lovers (Jean Tatlock, a communist party member, played with disturbing neurotic indeterminacy by Florence Pugh), in the course of a bedroom scene, picks out the Bhagavad Gita from the shelf, opens it conveniently at chapter 11, and makes Oppenheimer read the lines: ‘I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.’
The words are from Bheeshma Parva, in which Arjuna suffers from the ‘atomic’ equivalent of a nervous breakdown and would rather not take up arms against his elders and cousins; in short, he would rather not wage war. What good can come off such epic slaughter? But in the movie, the way it is played out, Oppenheimer never really has any great misgivings on his mission. They mildly assail him only after the bomb has been dropped.
The words come from one of the most egotistic chapters in all literature. Krishna annihilates the idea of Free Will for humanity. He is everything. Everything has been done. By Him. In Him, death happens. So does life. And all of it has happened once. All of it will happen again. There is no human agency. Arjuna just must carry out his dharma. In the great lines following, which Oppenheimer must have understood with keener insight than an average Indian, Krishna virtually licenses the dropping, thousands of years later, of the bomb: I have already killed Dronacharya, Bheeshma, Jayadratha, Karna, and other brave warriors. Therefore, worry not; slay them without a second thought. Do your duty, Arjuna.
Except for the appeal of Freudian association (Eros, love, and Thanatos, death, are virtually bedmates), it is not clear why coitus is interrupted for a short course on the Gita in the movie. Perhaps it augurs the destruction of Tatlot herself, who later commits suicide as Oppenheimer is reluctant to continue with the affair.
Despite the massive implication that we can all do great harm in the name of God, that if we are detached enough—having surrendered to the divine will—we are free to detonate a bomb, the nature of Oppenheimer’s career is markedly Faustian. He was ready to trade in death and make good in life. The US exploited Oppenheimer as much as Oppenheimer exploited the US. The amorality of either party does not find sufficient dramatic expression in Nolan.
Despite a boycott call by the right-wing Save Culture, Save India Foundation trending on social media, the movie has collected close to ₹100 crore at the Box Office. I suppose we have arrived at a stage in India where particle physics has become a matinee attraction. And at the same time, feel the need to save the Gita from Hollywood bedrooms. As I said, insane.'
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its-a-rat-trap · 10 months
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my huge fixation on the rats has come back again so out of curiosity, what are some of your favorite tracks, and why?
Oh man sorry it took me so long to answer this! It ended up being harder than I thought to narrow down a list of my favorite songs but here’s (some) of my current faves at least!
Lookin’ After No. 1 - A bit of a cliched inclusion but it’s still (imo) the best example of their early punk/post-punk sound, and you can really hear how well Garry and Simon meshed with their playing. Plus I’m an utter sap and it makes me very emotional to think of Bob going from writing “Don’t give me love thy neighbor / Don’t give me charity” to. yknow. putting on the entirety of Live Aid. 
(Also don’t eVEN talk to me about the Music Machine gig, every time I think of Bob singing “Don’t wanna be like you / Don’t wanna live like you / Don’t wanna talk like you at all / I’m gonna be like me” in the face of the neo-nazi skinheads who just punched him in the face I go INSANE)
Joey’s On The Streets Again - Look I know that if we’re picking “Top songs Bob wrote about the Ireland of his childhood” then Rat Trap is understandably always gonna be at the top of the list but consider: Joey is just a better song, especially the last verse of it.
Also the Self Aid Joey performance? SO FUCKING GOOD genuinely my favorite live performance of this song that they’ve ever done
Wind Chill Factor Minus Zero - The lyrics just do it for me. I feel like a lot of people don’t think of Bob Geldof as a great lyricist but he really is and this song is just full of little clever lines like “You start to laugh (No) / You say you’ve won (No) / It’s just I lost (No) / That’s not the same (No)” that just make it SO satisfying to sing!
Also gotta put a shout out to “Real Different” for the same reason, every time I hear Bob sing “I'll fill my pocket full of stones and I'll throw 'em at the light” I just go feral asldkfjals
The Elephant’s Graveyard - You know that quote about (I Never Loved) Eva Braun that describes the song as something like the happiest most upbeat song about Hitler you’ll ever hear? The Elephant’s Graveyard is exactly like that but for police brutality and the Rats fucking made it work. 
Obviously if we’re talking about social justice themes in their songs Mondays and Banana Republic are gonna top the list but listen. Listen. Bob wrote a song specifically about anti-black police brutality in Florida that calls out the double-standards of the US justice system (“Justice isn’t blind / It just looks the other way”), made the campiest beach-themed music video for it, and somehow they completely nailed the combination. 
House on Fire - IT’S JUST A FUCKING BANGER OF A SONG! Seriously between the brass instruments and Bob’s voice it’s just such a fun and funky song, and it’s a great example of the Rats playing around with their sound in their later albums in a way that just works perfectly for them. 
Also it has more good mouth-feel lyrics in it, like the line “Doing halo hula-hoops, executing loop-de-loops / Takes a lot of skill and bad taste” is just sooo satisfying to sing !!!
Trash Glam Baby - Obligatory COB inclusion alksdjfklas I almost went with She Said No instead but they really nailed that old-school rock sound with Trash Glam Baby and I absolutely adore it. I love the little references at the start of the song, I love the reprise at the end, the video absolutely fucks, this was everything I needed from 21st Century Rats and more!
Do The Rat / D.U.N. L.A.O.G.H.A.I.R.E. - Because I couldn’t pick just one, special shout-out to both Do The Rat and D.U.N. L.A.O.G.H.A.I.R.E. for being fantastic b-side tracks! I love that Bob and the rest of the band were having fun fooling around with their releases like this. I love all the puns in Do The Rat, and the little convo at the start of D.U.N. L.A.O.G.H.A.I.R.E. both makes me laugh and makes me a little emotional now that Garry’s gone.
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hoodievixen · 2 years
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Find my Way Back to You - The Umbrella Academy [Part 6]
The Hargreeves never expected the teen declaring the end of the world to become someone close. But leave it up to Ryn, who can see the future, to find their way into the weird dynamic of the Hargreeves siblings. Though there are many things that don't seem right about them. Some could be chalked up to her powers, others, no one would ever believe on someone's word alone. And she knew that.
Five x OC
Vanya/Viktor & OC (Platonic)
Klaus & OC (Platonic)
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Notes: The weird predicament of Five's physical age vs. mental age will be addressed. Can't explain, cause it's a large part of the story (and spoilers). IT IS NOT PEDOPHILIA! not to mention both Ryn and five are asexuals (sex-repulsed and never got to figure it out respectively) so there will be no devil's tango.
I will be referring to Viktor as Vanya and with she/her pronouns for what is season 1 and season 2. I do not want to take away that part of the character, and want the transition to be included. I believe removing that and referring to him as Viktor from the start is ignoring the struggle he went through. (Nothing against people who use Viktor and he/him pronouns in fanfics that would be during s1/s2. This is just my own opinion)
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Series Warnings: themes of trauma and mental health, mentions of suicide, cannon typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, alcohol consumption, drugs, toxic relationships (in reference not practice), questionable morals, swearing, gaslighting, manipulation
Chapter Warnings: mentions of suicide, talk of Nazis, mentions of the holocaust, talk of sexuality, mentions of sex, swearing
Word Count: ~2.1k
Master List
"Thanks," Ryn said quietly after sitting the the silence for a while. Five looked back at them. They had taken our their journal and had it open against their roped up knees, however no writing utensil was in sight.
"For what?" Five asked, sounding mildly annoyed.
Ryn turned her head to look out the windshield. "Not being a complete dick to V," they answered, some melancholy in their voice. "It would be really helpful if you continued to do that."
"She's my sister, of course I'm not going to be mean to her," Five commented.
Ryn hummed, "Not everyone sees it the same way. It's also hard to realize what you say might hurt someone until you say it."
"What's your deal with how Vanya is treated?" he wondered. If Ryn was stressing something, it needed to be important. The only reason she was with them all was to stop the apocalypse.
"Cause," Ryn said simply. "It will help. To have all six of you on the same team."
Five crossed his arms, still watching the entrance to the lab. "So what, you want me to protect her?"
"No," Ryn answered calmly. "It's one thing to think you're less than others, it's another to be treated that way. Just stand by her side, support her. Something like that can go a long way."
There was a heavy silence for a moment. "And if you aren't, I'll punch you in the neck," Ryn added.
"I doubt you would be able to," Five scoffed.
Ryn shrugged. "I can be pretty determined once I set my mind on something."
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Ryn threw themselves over the back of the passenger seat. "I gotta ask," they started, "Would you kill baby Hitler?"
"Why do you ask?" Five wondered.
"Cause it's the time travel question," the were using their arms to stress the sentiment. " 'If you could go back in time and kill baby Hitler, would you?' "
Five looked to Ryn to see she was total serious. "Why do they ask that question?"
Ryn shook her head, and looked straight out of the windshield. "It more so posed as a moral dilemma," she answered. "While you know Hitler was the cause of gynecide and war, the baby would be innocent, never having committed those atrocities. However I'm asking you for your personal opinion."
"Well, that's simple," Five commented, bringing up his binoculars to see who was leaving the building. "I wouldn't. To maintain the timeline."
Ryn hummed in curiosity, though stayed quiet. "What?" Five groaned, not trusting the noise she had made.
"It's just..." they shrugged. "You really think Hitler mattered that much."
"Less powerful people have effected more," Five pointed out.
Ryn nodded, "Yes, butterfly effect and everything. Everything effects everything. But with something as big as what caused World War Two, that was way more than one butterfly.
Let's stick with Germany, as that is the country on hand. To begin with after World War One, with the Treaty of Versailles, Germany needed to give up plenty of land for reparations, which greatly effect the economy of the country. The people of Germany wanted revenge against the Allied nations because. Then came the Great Depression, which caused the rise of many extremist movement like fascisms, and Nazism, though there was more. Hitler was just the one who was able to bring out the anger of the German populace, and direct it towards something. There were still plenty of people with the same ideals. It is very likely that someone else would have filled the role. While the repercussions of that person being in power could be less deadly as Hitler, lives would still be lost. You'd just get to throw a baby into all those numbers.
While everyone dose matter, everyone can also be replaced."
"I take it you wouldn't kill the baby," Five commented.
Ryn laughed, "No, I'd shake that baby like a maraca."
Five did bother looking at the amused look on Ryn's face. "I'm bot surprised," he commented, "But if you know all of that, why would you still do it?"
Ryn pursed their lips. "Cause all I said would be a possibility. And the question only stated you'd travel back in time, never said you'd get to go back to you're original time. So I'd just stick around in the 1900's and vibe, not needing to deal with the long term reproduction of my actions."
Five finally looked over to see the wide amused smile on their face. He once questioned if she was part of the commission. After such an explanation, it was clear they were not. "I don't like the fact that made me trust you a bit..." he confessed.
Ryn smriked, and fell back to sitting in the back of the van. "Just proved I'm not a bureaucratic slave of the Commission."
-------------------
After getting out to stretch their legs and a bathroom break, Ryn came back and hopped into the passenger side. "Can I turn on some music? " she asked, propping their feet up against the dash. "I forgot to grab my headphones today."
"No," he said simply not bringing down his binoculars.
Ryn snorted. "Okay, so I wasn't asking for permission, I was letting you know." There was already music coming out of her phone. While Ryn was considerate enough to keep the volume low, where it could just be heard.
"I'm only going to ask once," Five scolded, "Turn it off."
"No," Ryn scoffed, sliding down further into the seat.
Five had no been lying. He grabbed the device and threw it out the window. Ryn looked at him with a mouth hung open. He forced a smile to her before immediately returning to watching the building. "What the fuck?" Ryn asked after the delay. "If you broke my phone I'm gonna make you sell you kidney to pay for it."
"Well you better go check," Five commented.
"I hate old people," Ryn grumbled as she climbed out of the car. Five watched as they walked in front of the car to go find their phone in the bushes. "You better sleep with one eye open, or I'm gonna steal your girlfriend." After finding their phone in the bushes, they just walked up to the side of the van.
"What are you doing?" Five asked. The passenger side door then opened.
There was Luther, struggling to get into the vehicle. "You okay?"
"You shouldn't be..." Five started, but realized something. "How did you find me?"
"Ummm," Luther pointed to the back of the van.
Five looked back to find Klaus dancing with Delores. "Hey, a little privacy guys. We're really hitting it off back here."
Five was quick to react by throwing a trash at his brother. "Get out! You can't be here! I'm in the middle of something."
"What about Ryn, we saw her leave the van," Klaus pointed out.
Ryn was leaning in the window. "I bribed him with food," they confessed.
Klaus nodded, "Smart." He then turned to his physically younger brother. "Any luck finding you're one-eyed man?"
"No," Five quietly hissed to Klaus.
"What are you talking about?" Luther asked, not knowing anything.
"Dose it matter?" Five groaned "It's Klaus."
"He'll know eventually," Ryn pointed out. Five just pushed her face up of the window.
"What do you want Luther," Five asked.
Luther looked to the teen standing just outside the window. "Umm... so... We've learned what happened with Dad's death. So I need you to come back to the academy, alright? It's important."
Five had noticed his brothers gaze on the psychic, glancing between the two. "You asked Ryn, didn't you?" he asked. "I thought you wanted to solve it the old fashioned way."
"Well, we were confused, and we knew where we could get the answer," Luther explained, defensively. "It was Allison's idea."
"You figured out her weird lyric thing?" Five was angry. He had yet to figure out one of the answers to his serious of questions.
"It was very easy," Luther confessed.
Ryn showed back up in the window. "It seriously was, I should start rethinking my music choices."
"You think whatever happened to dear ol' dad is important," Five scoffed. "You have no concept about what's important."
"Hey," Klaus butted in, "Did I ever tell you guys about the time I waxed my ass with chocolate pudding?" He let out a laugh. "It was so painful."
"Five, go," Ryn said seriously. There were few time he heard them use that tone. She then looked to Klaus, "How?.. Like, pudding takes a long time to harden... and then like it's crusty. I assume."
Five put his hand over Klaus' mouth. "Don't answer that."
Luther started questioning why Klaus was there, which turned into an argument. Mean while Five was glaring at Ryn and they were just staring back. "Go, be with you family," Ryn told them.
"I can't I need to stay here," he reminded them.
"No, you need someone to stay here and watch. Now I have a pair of magic eyes, but they do see just fine," Ryn pointed out. "I'll stay here keep an eye on things. I know what you're waiting for anyways. Just once I see it actually happen, I can tell you out right."
Five continued to glare. "If this is such a big deal, you go," he scoffed.
Ryn's eyes started to glow. Five started to think they only did that to tell the listener that what they're saying is prophetic. "Cha Cha real smooth, " they said, waiting for it to click for Five. Ryn let out a sigh. "Behind these hazel eyes. " The inflection, Cha Cha and Hazel.
Five turned to his brothers, who were still bickering. "Let's go," he told the two of them. He glared at Ryn. "Stay here, I'll be back when this is all done."
---------------------------------
"Wanna know what I miss?" they asked, leaning back over a large piece of rubble they were ever able to move.
"Why not?" he scoffed, pushing an empty bottle away from him.
"The stars," they said reaching up towards the sky. "I know a whole bunch of constellations, could even find a few in the night sky."
He looked up to the sky. It has only been grey since his arrival to the apocalypses. Different tints of grey, but always grey.
"I wonder how much bright they'd be now..." they mumbled. They then nudged his shoulder with their foot. "What do you miss? Besides your family, I know you miss them."
"I don't know..." he confessed, "That's all that's missing."
They sat up to try and look at him, but gave up after getting just their head up. "Really dude?" they asked. "Not even like a favorite blanket, tv show, honestly you could say porn and I wouldn't judge you.... I read so much smut..."
"I never got the point of porn," he cconfessed.
They scoffed, "Me neither, just some came along with great plots." They let out a deep laugh. "I read porn for the plot."
"Wait..." they suddenly realized something, sliding off the rubble to be on the ground. They where quick to adjust themselves to be able to make eye contact, pushing their hair out of their face. "Did you ever look at someone and feel like, 'I'd hit that'."
"Only bad guys...?" he wasn't sure what they met.
The alcohol made them confused for a second. "Sorry, slang," they realized the miscommunication. "Did you ever look at someone and have the want to have sex with them?"
"Not really..." he answered, still confused.
"Not even me?" they asked in a teasing tone.
He grew flustered, why would he ever have such thoughts about them. They were his friend. "No!" he was quick to answer.
They wore a knowing smirk, which was quick to turn to deep laughter. "The last two people left on Earth are both asexual," they laughed out. "We really are the last of humanity."
It was his turn to nudge them with his foot. "What do you mean?"
They looked at him with flushed cheeks from alcohol, but a serious look. "You're most likely asexual. You don't feel sexual attraction towards people." He looked visibly confused. "Don't worry I am too. It's probably not common when you came from, exploring your sexuality became less taboo closer to the end of the world.
But apparently people normally have a physical reaction to people they find attractive. Wanting to fuck them. That's why attractive people were called 'hot' cause people physically felt hot looking at them."
"So, I'm meant to do binary fission?" he asked.
They laughed once again. "No, you just don't want to have sex. .. Well it's actually like a spectrum. I'm at the far end of finding sex repulsive. But like there's demisexual, where someone needs a strong relationship before they feel sexual attraction. Yes, that sound like the normal, but it's not."
They fell back into the ashen dirt. "I also miss flowers... That which we would call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. "
Songs in Chapter (in order of appearance)
- Cha Cha Slide DJ Casper
- Behind These Hazel Eyes Kelly Clarkson
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thebibliomancer · 1 month
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Earth X #4
Hi Storm, Iron Maiden, a spider guy, and kitty.
The thing about Earth X is that the X might as well stand for Xtremely messed up unless the book states otherwise.
The world is probably doomed because something about vibranium. Humanity went through a mass empowering event also maybe because vibranium. The Avengers are dead, the Fantastic Four is no more, Reed is Doom, Captain America is wearing a flag toga. A mind control squid hivemind is plaguing New York. A mind control kid called the Skull is gathering an army in California. Uatu the Watcher was blinded and kidnapped Aaron Stack Machine Man to be his seeing eye robot and is a dehumanizing dick to him.
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A lot is going on. But we are getting answers. Possibly the wrong answers. I trust Uatu less and less.
In the last issue, the Inhumans came to Reed in Latveria for help finding the lost Inhuman Prince. But they get sidetracked with Reed’s problems.
Like mutating all of humanity with vibranium, maybe.
(By the way, a part of the puzzle gets casually solved by the Skull. Reed’s beacon tower blew up because the woman who would become Iron Maiden fell into an open vat of liquid vibranium. An OSHA violation has forever changed humanity.)
But when Reed mentions vibranium, the Inhumans tell him they saw a planet out in space that had been exploded from the inside out. And that they believe vibranium was related.
So Reed calls T’Challa.
T’Challa is a kitty now. And married to Storm.
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(Tally another one for something the 616 would copy from Earth X)
Reed asks T’Challa if they can stop or slow down the vibranium’s generative rate. Because I guess in this Marvel universe, the vibranium meteor wasn’t very big but it somehow makes more vibranium over time.
T’Challa dismisses Reed’s concerns. If there was a danger from vibranium, the spirits would tell him.
He doesn’t tell Reed but he also has a lot on his plate right now with a whole bunch of animals that have been mutated. There’s a zebra centaur. Just chilling in his throne room.
Earth X is so weird.
Since Reed can’t fix the mass empowering and T’Challa won’t help him with the vibranium, Reed decides to fix what he can and suggests he could find and modify Cerebro to find Inhumans instead of mutants.
Over in California, the Skull knows Captain America is in the crowd.
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And he is simply the most perfect all-powerful brat. He’s got no ethos, no ideology, except that he should have all the things he wants.
He references pop culture several times but when Steve calls him another Hitler, the Skull blankly asks “Who?”
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The worst person to have this much power but with everyone in the world getting mutated, it was inevitable someone like this would happen.
Captain America gets fed up with his shit and tries to deck him but the Spider-Man-looking guy from the cover throws a web which makes Steve hallucinate that he’s strangling Bucky.
And the Skull takes over Wyatt and forces him to punch Steve. While the guy is pleading with Steve to just leave because he can’t stop himself.
Possibly the creepiest kind of mind control. Completely aware, unable to resist.
To add literal insult to injury, the Skull calls Steve “Craptain.”
What really hurts is he didn’t even bother to think of a better burn.
The Skull decides that if Steve is going to blah blah blah about freedom so much, he’ll let Steve have his freedom. His freedom to watch as the Skull takes everyone else in the world while Steve can’t do shit to stop him.
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The crowd begs Steve to save them even as they pelt him with rocks under the Skull’s control.
What makes this more horrifying is that in the back of book appendix, Uatu and Aaron discuss how those that were mutated in the mass empowering event don’t seem to age and no new children are being born.
The Skull has been an overpowered brat for who knows how many years and he will likely never be able to mature.
Even scarier, Uatu claims that the Celestial’s reason for planting the seeds of this mass empowering event at the dawn of humanity (even planting the idea for the vibranium beacon tower in Reed’s dreams) is a form of propagation. Aaron interprets that to mean that humanity will super evolve into Celestials.
This forever child as a space god is scary.
Back in New York, the Hulk saves a Red Harpy looking woman (who is probably not Betty, so unsure whether this tallies another point or not) from Hydra and geez.
Earth X Hulk is weird even by the standards of Earth X.
I’ve read the prequel where it happened and I’m still not sure why Bruce mutated into a green gorilla and a child version of himself.
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Why? Why the fuck did this happen?
The mass empowering event wasn’t even supposed to affect people who already had superpowers. Is this just a Hulk thing?
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Oh, also, Clea is Sorcerer Supreme.
That is definitely something the 616 would copy later. Add another tally.
Each issue we add more characters into the mix and unravel more and more of the mystery of what the hell happened and what the hell is going to happen?
If the world is going to end, does Captain America’s conflict against the Skull even matter?
Uatu thinks not. He also sounds like a Dril tweet, saying there’s no difference between the two.
I do not like Earth X Uatu.
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richardsphere · 2 months
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Leverage Redemption Log: The Great Train Job
*rhytmic chanting* Train Heist, Train Heist, Train Heist! --- Two Men (wether partners in business or life) talk about their rough times right now. They'll get through it. Angry mob with baseballs (yeah, this is definitly a Homophobia thing.)
Man, i know the name is meant to evoke that "old west movie with a trainheist" idea but did they really need to twirl that stache? --- half of their crops lost to a blight. Now hatecrimes. Hatecrime, and poison. Add in the name: Its a land thing, the railway company is trying to steal their land. --- Parker is taking the victims to the Ritz, "bet you its cobalt poisoning" Elliots shock that the new the deskjockey-lawyer can identify the poison.
Redemption list. (Yacht debacle) Prop reuse, Whitcomb is holding that generator-thingy from the in the OG series where they almost made a guy jump off a roof because they full-on inceptioned him. Thought I wouldnt notice, but I did. Parker isnt even here to see the briefing but she senses from across town that there is a rare, limited-edition novelty safe and instantly parachutes across town.
Im sorry Sophie, why are we giving this guy benefit of the doubt? --- Parker robs an old lady for a ticket. (which is a problem cause we already had tickets)
For some reason our heroes are afraid of bachelorette parties. --- Guys guilty (why did we bother with the giving LegallyNotElon the benefit of the doubt thing again?) Harry is creeping Elliot out. (Are you a serial killer? You legally have to tell me if you are)
In the Secretary of States defense, most US Secretaries ought to be at the Hague.
Oh no, Breanna is atracted to Yoo. (and just to hammer down this is a musk thing, "in a world of Edisons, she's a Tesla"). Oh, Hitlers Home away from Home...
Well this episode is definitly gonna be an awkward watch (I do not like cringe comedy)
--- Back with Harry the Prepper. Its time for some protected suits. (its battery prototypes) ---
On the train she flirts with the Nazi. Eye-scanner. No parker, the schematics arent inside the safe because they dont exist. The safe probably contains his 1th edition signed copy of Mein Kampf. (im only partially joking there)
Yeah this guy knows nothing, "Watt Kilogram" is not a unit produced by a battery. (he could be thinking of Kilowatt, as in a thousand Watt. Or Watt per Kilogram which is power/weigth ratio in mechanics but he's stitching buzzwords together badly). That thing puts the "Prop" in "proprietary". Its a scam to convince the investors to give him money for a product he doesnt have yet.
Put the world back in order... Parker is IN. --- We're back at the farm, and with 2 episodes to go (one of which named for Harry) its time to emphasize how far he's come.
Parker is angry the vault is empty (cause he's a brainless dimwit.)
The team has caught up to the blatantly obvious. "well arent you glad i brought a plastic tarp and ducttape" can you stop the Serialkiller Shit?
Time for Breanna to do a Sophie...
Phase 2 is a go. --- Are the mounties gonna be a problem? Cause it seems to me that this is another "Parker just takes the roof" situation.
And Sophie finally figured out where the Stanley Cup went. Turns out, they have juristiction (note; Its weird for Breanna to be the one saying this, this feels like a Harry line), also where did Breanna's Date go?
Breanna does not like being in the room full of literal Nazi's. --- Harry is riding away with the evidence while Elliot prepares for some White-Supremacist Punching, time for elliot to dine at the all-you-can-beat buffet.
Racist Mjolnir (lets be clear, with the amount of white supremacists that identify with vikings... thats just regular Mjolnir)
How did you get this? "word salad".
And the Nazi has entered his room. --- Harry, we all want to hit nazi's with a car sometime but for gods sake dont do it with a car that has pedestrian detection.
Harry does not hanle adrenaline well.
Oh just one Wired-article is all it takes for Karl to get his fascist-ass spartan-kicked off the train.
Pennies, Mounties arrest Musk Dinner at the farm
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tilbageidanmark · 3 months
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Movies I watched this week (Year 4, week 8)
"Rudy calls me The Queen Of Auschwitz"...
After waiting for many months, I finally had a chance to watch Jonathan Glazer's transcendental The Zone of Interest. It's the most spine-chilling horror film I've ever seen, and I'll bet it will grow to become one of the greatest films of all time.
Making art about genocide is nearly impossible. Few Holocaust movies were able to tackle the topic honorably (Claude Lanzmann's epic Shoah', and Alain Resnais's 'Night and fog', both documentaries). But fictional dramas about concentration camps and Nazism are usually an affront against humanity. This one is different: Restraint, oppressive to the bone, ambient, extraordinarily disturbing. 9/10.
🍿  
2 with Swedish actress Lena Olin:
🍿 Another film about the holocaust. One life is the directorial feature film debut of James Hawes, who directed two of my favorite 'Black Mirror' episodes ('Hated in the nation' and 'Smithereens'). Anthony Hopkins plays Nicholas Winton, who saved the lives of 699 Czech children by transferring them to England, just before the beginning of World War 2.
Watching Hopkins is always a delight, but unfortunately much of the film is a historical flash-back, a genre I dislike in principle. But even as much as I can't stand the period posturing and sub-par acting in the flash-back, the pathos and manipulation used here were so effective, it left me in tears for most of the film. 8/10.
🍿 The Adventures of Picasso is a Swedish surrealist comedy, very much in a 1970's absurdist style. Including a few lovely scenes (A dubbed Rossini duet, violinist Henri Rousseau ascending to heaven to the tune of 'I dream of 'Jenny', an excessive cauliflower farting performance) among mostly low-brow and stereotypical caricatures. Woody Allen did it better in 'Midnight in Paris'. 2/10.
🍿  
And a third movie about related topic, Hitler Lives - Wow! A virulent anti-German propaganda film, originally written by Dr. Seuss and directed by Frank Capra, but which was remade by new director Don Siegel, and even went on to win the 1945 Oscar. Commissioned by the War Department, it was so over the top, that even George Patton walked out of the screening for top military brass, calling it 'Bullshit'.
['Today I learnt' that Don Siegel directed his first two movies in 1945, this and 'Star in the Night', and both of them won the Oscars, one for Short drama, and one for Short documentary!]
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River, my second charming comedy by Japanese director Junta Yamaguchi (after his original 'Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes'). Like the previous one, it's a quirky "2 minute time loop" story, where every 2 minutes, time rewinds and everyone returns to where they were before. It takes some getting used to, but it's more relaxed [maybe because the location is a traditional inn, 'Ryokan', in a beautiful rural area]. The dozen participants adjust their responses to the Loop, and learn to behave accordingly. 100% on Rotten Tomatoes.
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2 Korean police thrillers:
🍿 Cold eyes is about a team of surveillance officers tracking a gang of highly-sophisticated criminals. Excellent fast-action, cat and mouse plot (with improbable tech). 6/10.
🍿 The Outlaws is a fast action, brutal story of a gang war in seedy Chinatown in Seoul. Tough as nails and hard hitting, the captain in charge of the investigation goes against one of the most ruthless screen villains I've ever seen, a loan shark who likes to chop people's hands off. Lead officer Ma Dong Seok is relentless and uncompromising, and with the most powerful knock-out punches. The all-out brawl at the airport bathroom executed as well as the fight scenes from 'True Lies' and 'Terminator 2'.
The film was a big success in Korea, and they already made 3 sequels to it. 8/10 - My most entertaining surprise film of the week!
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"Something is rotten in the State of Denmark".
Laurence Olivier's brilliant adaptation of Shakespeare's Hamlet, the first British film to win the Oscar for 'Best Picture'. It got everything: A son avenging the murder of his father, a ghost story, incest and madness, suicide, poetry, politics of the day, as well as stunning photography in German Expressionist style. Also, a 'foppish courtier', tight tights for the men and giant protruding codpieces.
I wish I was much more versed with Elizabethan English, so that I could enjoy it even more.
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Marlene Dietrich as a conniving murderess X 2:
🍿 First watch: Witness for the Prosecution, a terrific Billy Wilder drama with Charles Laughton and Marlene Dietrich, and with Tyrone Power in his final role. My dislike for pompous courtroom dramas was surpassed by the wit and fluidity of the Agatha Christie story. 8/10.
🍿 The 1950 Stage Fright was a mediocre Hitchcock Noir, with a similar set up, featuring a conspiring, duplicitous Marlene Dietrich as a remorseless co-conspirator to a murder. Not as engaging, or as staged. The most memorable performance in it was the 'Laziest Gal in Town' scene, which was parodied so well by Madeline Kahn. 3/10.
🍿  
Re-watching 'Singing in the rain' X 2:
🍿 Another frequent re-watch: Nancy Meyers perfect feel-good hug, The intern. Meyers directed only 7 movies, but wrote nearly 20 romantic blockbusters. She's a superb screenwriter, and this is a marvelously-constructed bonbon. De Nero is super cute, and even Anne Hathaway is wonderful here. The relationship between them develops in stages so well. And it culminates with the heart-warming You Were Meant for Me scene at the Mark Hopkins Hotel. 10/10.
It's amusing to think how different this movie will be if Michael Caine and Tina Fey (or Reese Witherspoon) would play in it, as originally planned. That would actually be a good project for a 2026 A.I. "Alternative Version" re-make! ♻️
/ Female Director
🍿 So I had to watch Singing in the rain again. If there ever was a perfect musical, this is it. There isn't much I can say that hadn't been said before many times, so here:
The 'You were meant for me' scene which is the emotional center of the movie, happens (as it often does in well-timed Hollywood classics) at the 48:25 mark, precisely one hour before the end.
Gene Kelly wears this ridiculously-giant white chapeau. I don't even know what it's called.
The musical numbers are composed of mostly very long shots, with few, nearly invisible, cuts!
Debbie Reynolds was only 19 when she was cast as Kathy Selden.
And, Clockwork Orange's Alex DeLarge definitely altered forever any connotation to the beauty of 'just singing and dancing in the rain'...
10/10 - will watch again. ♻️
🍿  
Once Within a Time is Godfrey Reggio's 8th experimental feature. Like his famous Koyaanisqatsi trilogy, it's an abstract non-linear montage, but this time with a different element of story-telling, that of children watching today's world disintegrate.
With a Philip Glass score (once again), exec-produced by Steven Soderbergh and with a cameo by Mike Tyson (?). It's a psychedelic, surreal trip, with animated dreamscapes, like La Planète sauvage on digital Psilocybin. 5/10.
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"Today I learnt" about Stig Anderson, "The fifth ABBA". He was their promoter, manager, lyricist and manager. Stikkan is a new Swedish documentary about one of the most fascinating and influential people of Swedish music. (Even though the narrator has a very irritating intonation!).
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"Obviously, Jesse is Tom and we're all Greg's"...
From Southbank Central, A fascinating panel discussion with Jesse Armstrong and four other brilliant writers of 'Succession' on September 15, 2023. 8/10.
And just to follow up, I revisited the masterful 'Pilot' episode, Celebration. Directed by Adam McKay, it introduced all the unpleasant main characters in such a way that one is being lured to obsessively follow them for 40 additional hours. It's also obvious from the very first viewing of Kendall Roy, with his sloped shoulders and forlorn sad-dog looks, that he is a 'Loser' who'll never be able to fill his father's big shoes. 10/10. ♻️
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"I like your hairstyle... I like your polyester look"...
When Saturday night fever first opened in the 70's, I was a film snob and refused to see it. After stumbling upon the iconic opening scene today, I though I'll give it a shot. But Tony Manero still was a strutting, empty-headed, raping asshole, and the rest was not for me either. "Rocky but for Disco"? I saw Rocky recently and it was a great story. This was a ridiculous, sexist, stereotypical chauvinist, and pathetic ride. And was there a Ron Jeremy cameo? 1/10.
🍿  
“I’ll be watching you, al-jazeera..”
Where do I even start? Poultrygeist, Night of the Chicken Dead is a piece of low-budget Troma schlock full of absurd, tongue-in-cheek body-fluid gore, the kind of shitshow I usually avoid. I thought I'll be able to see how bad can it really be, but after another explosive diarrhea gross-out scene that lasted for 2 or 3 minutes, I had to give it a permanent pass. 'Bye, Lloyd Kaufman. 1/10 - didn't finish.  
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(My complete movie list is here)
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greenwood106-blog · 1 year
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Every Day Is A Good Day?
These words were the motto of a friend/mentor in my professional world. He had gone through a serious health spell, and was left to rot in the hospital. When he rebounded and got better, his feet and toes essentially had to be broken and pinned to straighten, allowing him to walk.
For years, I carried that motto. Then came the stroke. These days, it is a much more difficult task to find a day that I can feel like that motto is more than just words.
As an Atheist, my views on life & death are pretty straightforward. I have no belief on the question of where my "soul" will come to reside based on who or what I may have pledged my allegiance to. I've always believed in karma, that you get what you give.
We've all gotten a kick out of Little Nicky when Hitler is in hell and he gets a pineapple shoved up his ass as a punishment for possibly being the worst human ever on this planet. We've all talked about people who will have "A special place in hell" reserved for them.
I had a friend pass away recently, and his brother went about 9 years before, so the prevailing sentiment is "Be sure to say hello to your brother for me" or something like that. Rock N' Roll fans think of a supergroup with people like Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Randy Rhoads, John Entwistle, and Charlie Watts playing in it.
Then there's the reincarnation theory. If you lived a good life, you come back as a puppy or something deemed to have a blessed existence, where if you were an asshole, you come back as a DMV clerk or an IRS accountant.
Those theories give us the sense that this is just phase one of a larger existence and that what we do here punches our ticket for the next chapter. As I have believed for some time, it is like mourning. We don't really mourn the dead, but rather the fact that the living can no longer have them in our lives.
I have chosen to believe that we are simply a different form of animal and therefore our lives and deaths are similar. When our heart stops and the body can no longer support life, it is the end. Not a pathway leading somewhere, but that's it, no more, game over.
I may be entirely wrong, but I have nobody that left us, arrived at this afterlife destination, then came back. So, as an Atheist, I go with the simplest theory is most likely the truth.
After a 30+ year career in healthcare, nearly 20 with the same company, that company is now closing the doors and going out of business. This is the company that kept me on the payroll when I was hit with the stroke, and allowed me to return to work on a limited schedule when I returned, among countless other things.
Not surprisingly, I don't find myself independently wealthy after that time in healthcare. I've had a good income and good life, but I'm afraid not working is not an option going forward. But, I'm not able to drive, have limited movement on my right side and sound like I've been in the dentist's chair all day. Narrow's the opportunity window, right?
In August I filed for disability, thinking I would get ahead of the game. HAHAHAHA. No such luck. They tell you it could be between 5 - 8 months before they will determine if you should be approved. 3 months in they are still hovering at the beginning of the medical review.
It's a shame they have had to make the system so difficult because so much fraud has tainted them, but they should be able to look quickly at my record and see that I applied for unemployment once, and got 1 check before I was back at work. I have worked since I was 16 and my working karma should earn me this when it is needed.
So, I'll just apply for work from home. After all, one of the things we learned during the pandemic (aside from how wonderful it was on the roads) was that most of us can do our work from home. But here again, most companies want you to be able to field calls, handle the finances, balance their budgets and manage their staff with no time off. Or it's a "hybrid remote" position, meaning at least once a week you need to come to an office and speak with people who can't email or chat online.
And for the jobs that don't require all of that, there's 27,000 applicants. "We'll get back with you soon."
This is the exact reason why a life used to be considered over once you have raised and taught your children to produce and be independent, and concluded your career. Otherwise, you get to spend who knows how long being a burden to those you raised to be independent.
Having spent that 30+ years working in senior healthcare, I have watched countless lives that were dragged on way past the point of logic, partially because we don't embrace the idea that over is over and while we have no problem putting down a 9 year old dog, we can't let a human say it's their time to be done.
Now please don't think I'm seeking an injection to be done. I would never do that unless I were deemed to be beyond help. But if I went to bed tonight and never woke again, I wouldn't feel that I was robbed of a single moment. Before you read this and think this screams depression, understand the difference between looking for a rope and being comfortable with mortality. In many cases, depression means "take 2 of these and call me next week". (unless you've ever been told you could possibly be allergic to the 12 ingredients you can't pronounce without a PHD) I've contributed plenty to the medical machine already. You're welcome pharma!
I guess for me now it's every day is another day. SSDD, now there's a motto!
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Text
This is Halloween (10-25-22)
⚠️TW: Jeffrey Dahmer⚠️
I think this is the first "normal" Halloween since Covid.
I remember my freshman year we went out clubbing for Halloween weekend. I was dressed as "Minnie Mouse." I got roofied at my first frat party. Thankfully one of the girls I went out with was a good friend and looked after me; I don't remember a thing from the incident after drinking beer for the first time, but I woke up on that friend's couch and I had a huge bruise on the back of my hand from a fall I don't remember having.
This year, most of my friends aren't interested in going out; most are planning to cuddle with their finances/so's in matching Halloween pajamas from Target to watch Hocus Pocus 2. I saw it already - I adore it, it was a welcome stress reliever from the end of midterms.
It seems like most people are on a budget this year for costumes, so the trend is to create a clever "look-a-like" costume with clothes you already have. I've seen lots of Cheetah Girls, "witches" styled like American Horror Story (just all black and black fedoras), zombies, nerds..
and Jeffrey fucking Dahmer.
I don't know who in their right mind thinks it's okay let alone sensible to idolize Jeffrey Dahmer and mimic him in a Halloween costume. After Netflix recently released a new tv show called "Dahmer" - which essentially makes a cinematic/theatrical series instead of a documentary about Jeffrey Dahmer's horrendous crimes - many people have begun to idolize Dahmer and romanticize him. I've seen dozens of TikTok's from white girls trying to argue that Dahmer should not have died and that his crime were excusable.
For those who don't know/remember, Jeffrey Dahmer raped, murdered, and ate several men - including children.
I saw a tweet the other day of a mom showing how proud she was of her home-made Dahmer costume that she put together for her 9 yo son. I've seen thirst edits of Dahmer - not Evan Peters who plays the serial killer, but edits and fan pages for the actual serial killer.
I've been talking about this with friends and I've theorized that those who idolize people like Dahmer struggle with violence/bloodlust repression; they idolize Dahmer because they see him as an inspiring rebel who relished in his bloodlust and desires for violence instead of repressing those urges to fit into society.
I knew this girl once in high school who would fit this narrative; she idolized and was obsessed with people like Hitler. She believed that Hitler was justified and that he should not have been punished for ordering the mass genocide(s) that still haunts us today. She had a deep attraction to blood and violence, and one time she punched a kid in the face because she wanted to see what his blood would look like coming out of his nose.
I am a very morally/conscious convicted person, and I even told myself that if it came down to it I'd shoot this girl in an instant - perhaps the only person I'd kill without hesitation if the circumstances required it.
It seems like most of Dahmer's admirers are white women - interesting because most of Dahmer's victims were black men. I've been having discussions about this with a friend who's a psychology major, and we've talked about generational trauma between races. Jewish people have the generational trauma of the holocaust, black people have the generational trauma of slavery - but, in general (and not taking specific cases into account) it seems like white people do not have generational trauma based on their religion, race, etc. Yet these are the people (in general) who go crazy, who shoot up schools and make sport of killing sprees. I just don't understand how or why people can be so.. evil? Unempathetic, certainly. Selfish. Entitled. Unemotional. Even some of the guys in my circles are still struggling to handle their emotions in a healthy way; most guys think if you have any emotion at all then you're a pussy, but then half of those same guys are overly emotional and snap at the slightest thing because they don't know how to manage their emotions. It's so weird.
Anyway, y'all please be safe out there - especially with Halloween coming up. Stick with a good reliable group of friends you can trust, keep your wits about you, and don't be dumb.
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academy13 · 2 years
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Okay but like Republicans and evangelicals... if you didn’t want several generations to rise up and fight back, why did you literally hand us stories that say to DO THAT VERY THING. 
Like look... I know a lot of stories we read growing up were fucked up in some way or another... but like can we talk about the fact that even flipping Harry Potter kinda went ‘Yo if shits fucked up, fight back’. Fuck, like this is frigging Captain America 101... the first flipping comic literally has the cover image of Cap punching Hitler. They didn’t even beat around the bush in saying FIGHT BACK AGAINST THIS SHIT. 
Like sure, you guys tried to ban books, but for every book you weren’t okay with there were like half a dozen others that had the same message of rise up, take a stand, fight back. And you were okay with them because magic wasn’t in there, or it wasn’t making some highly specific point (To Kill a Mockingbird is often a target because of well.. the entire point of the story. Fuck the sheer irony of Fahrenheit 451 being a banned book at times... the story is literally about censorship) Fuck man, just look at the banned books that Barnes and Noble has available https://www.barnesandnoble.com/b/banned-books/_/N-rtm?Nrpp=20&page=1
And then here’s this about banned books you should read https://medium.com/feedium/banned-books-list-2649e56db929
And just for good measure, have the Wikipedia article on critical race theory, which does relate a good deal to banning (or burning) books. And look, I am not an expert on this subject by any stretch of the imagination, but considering it literally does have something to do with intersectionality, a concept you don’t learn about until COLLEGE, I can safely say Republicans are FULL OF SHIT for thinking this is something taught to grade school kids. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Critical_race_theory
Fuck man, I grew up reading many banned books, yes including Harry Potter (its the magic, but you’ll see a reoccurring theme when you look at a list of banned books. It’s either ‘I am white and this makes me uncomfortable’ or ‘I am Christain and white and it makes me uncomfortable’... me thinks they don’t want to self examine too much), and like... Would you people fucking try reading books instead of burning them? I feel Sean Connery in the third Indiana Jones movie so much.
OH and what the fuck, have this, which features the 100 most challenged books of the last three decades (no I still haven’t recovered from the 90s being thirty years ago, I doubt I will ever recover from this knowledge), a hundred books a decade. https://www.ala.org/advocacy/bbooks/frequentlychallengedbooks/top100
Also, I personally still hate Lord of the Flies, but that’s because it is the driest fucking book on the goddamned planet and I could not keep an interest in it. I however, still need to reread The Outsiders. Its been years, and it was an in class book that I didn’t hate... and I also read 1984 completely on my own, the final line of that novel haunts me.
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rcksmith · 3 years
Text
Nobody else — Five Hargreeves
Requests: “Hello! May I request number nine from the fluff prompts and number seven from the smut prompts for Five? Maybe where the reader is a super skilled fighter, and the other Hargreeves siblings can’t get over how amazing she is, but that causes Five to become a little jealous?”
“Okayy if you're not tired of Five and smuts yet, can I request 18,70,74 and 84 from smut list with fem reader?”
Fluff prompts:
9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”
Smut prompts:
7. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”
18. “Are you sure? Once we start, i might not be able to stop.”
70. “Maybe I should leave you like this, that way anyone who wanted to use you could have a go with you. Would you like that?”
74. “I think I like you better with a gag in your mouth.”
84. “Let me show you what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.”
A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!
I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.
Thank you for requests💖 I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same energy and they prompts connect to a central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.
English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.
Requests are open. Love you ❤️
Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.
Warnings: explicit smut, dirty talk, bad words, fluff, fight, mention of death, jealousy.
— — — — —
People need each other to find support, comfort and understanding. Thomas Merton said: “Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life alone, but with the other. ”
And as cliché as it was, it was the truth. And that is exactly what happened to you.
It was difficult to explain how many years you had already been killing for the commission. Ever since, maybe? You did not remember a time when that work was not part of your life, your routine, your system. But you could feel, vaguely like a hazy dream, that one day the act of breathing was ... light.
Killing without conscience brought many regrets, and the weight of guilt filled your chest, making it difficult to breathe.
But you were good at that. God, you were very good. Maybe it was the endless years of training, your quick thinking, or the simple fact that you had a lot more physical stamina than the other agents. But, whatever it was, it helped you move up the board quickly.
Murdering with a gun was easy, quick, clean, and there were already many agents who did that job. For someone like you, so empowered, the commission has relocated you to more… arduous and dangerous missions.
Your job was to kill those whose gunshots could not show up at the necropsy. Someone who needed to die without the body revealing what had happened very well.
Shoot JFK? It wasn't with you.
End Hitler? It wasn't your job.
To kill Socrates with your bare hands and make everyone believe it was poison? This is where you came in.
The difference between the jobs was that you had to do the whole process. And a melee interaction instead of a weapon always brought people who wanted to fight for their lives. And that is why the commission chose you to do that, without any partner.
They elected you because you fought like a super soldier, focused on your goal like a robot, and never came back without success. It didn't matter how many fights you had to fight with your target, how many punches you had to throw and also take, or how many injuries you returned. You always won.
Over time, you learned things in practice, tricks that made it easy, scams that would save you effort. You learned to study each person in seconds, find their weaknesses, and use his own strength against them.
That's when you met Five Hargreeves. And Thomas Merton's quote made sense.
You two were so much similar. Both the best in their fields, wrecked in a sea of ​​personal traumas, buried by a job that got the best of you two. You two felt misunderstood, alone in the vastness of that world. And when you two met... well, were no longer alone.
You two got involved, in all possible ways and ways. Loved each other, adored each other, and completed each other. Life went out of automatic mode, and for the first time in a long time, you two managed to breathe lightly. The food now tasted good, the heat of the sun on the skin was now better, and the world... the world was ruled by the red color of love.
So it became the most obvious and coherent decision to you two get married. Five could no longer imagine a life in which you did not exist, and you did not know how the world could go without him.
“I can't believe we did that!” You laughed, astonished, as you entered the apartment that you and Five shared.
You two had just married, something just for you two and the ceremonialist. You two chose something very intimate, reserved. And now the ring on him left hand looked like the most beautiful thing in the world for you.
Five laughed softly, hands moving up your arms, bringing you closer.
“We did. Wife.”
After that, your two contract with the commission changed. Five would only continue to do that if no one dared to touch a hair of yours, and you swore to The Handler that if someone did something to Five, you would destroy that place brick by brick.
Five saw in you a strong and atrocious ocean, which could swallow whole cities only with the force of its fury. And he liked that. He liked having someone as competent and firm as he was. Five liked to know that if there was a disaster, he would not be the only one who would go after a solution.
You were the type who knew that if you wanted things to happen, you had to do it with your bare hands. And Five loved it, because he felt understood. He carried so many responsibilities on his back that it was relieving to find someone who also felt the same things.
Five knew that, when him found way home, you were going with him. And you went. You two exchanged vows that would be together in joy and sadness, in any situation. And if the situation now said to go to 2019, well, you would.
“It makes me so sick, God!” Five heard you say when you two fell out of that blue portal he created.
He would have laughed if his muscles didn't hurt so much. For someone so trained you got sick of his powers very quickly.
"Five?!” And then the voice of one of the brothers was heard.
And that's how you two ended up there. A week later, in the Hargreeves' living room, with Diego swearing that you wouldn't be able to beat him in a fight.
Five laughed against the margarita's straw, sitting comfortably at the bar, giving up on telling his stupid brother that you had already killed much more dangerous people with your bare hands.
“I do not want to hurt you.” You smiled understandingly, and Klaus laughed.
“I bet 50 bucks that she beats your ass, Diego.” It was only logical that he was going to encourage his brother to fall.
“There is no way you can hurt me.” Diego guaranteed, getting up and starting to push the sofa away, making room for a fight.
“Are you up for it or are you scared?” He played with you, and Five laughter it back there, having a lot of fun.
“This is ridiculous, Diego.” Allison stressed, but it was obvious that she wanted to watch too.
You smirked, getting up from the bar chair next to Five. You didn't want to defeat your husband's brother in that fight, you understood that the circumstances between the two of you were not fair.
You were created to kill, injure and decimate. Body wrestling was your job and it wouldn't be fair to Diego. You knew, from Five, that the Hargreeves were created to be heroes. Saviors of the motherland. Hurt and kill if necessary, but don't make it a goal.
But not with you. Killing was your goal, always. And your weapon was not super powers or pistols, but the body itself.
“Okay.” You laughed and went to the circle that Diego had made “But I don't want to hurt you. The first one to fall to the ground loses.” You were trying to be peaceful.
Diego agreed, giving him a friendly smile before saying:
“But I will use my knives to distract you.”
It was logical that he wouldn't make it cheap and easy, even if it was for himself, you knew that.
So you agreed, took off the suit you were wearing and rolled up the sleeves of your white dress shirt, while the Hargeeves sat in a safe area, away from that makeshift ring.
Diego delivered the first blow, and you just deflected the trunk, taking him by the same arm and twisting it against his back. At that moment, if it was something for real, you would put more strength to break the bone, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you just released Diego with a little push forward.
Diego turned to face you again, the naughty smile on the face of someone who knows his own potential. He was very good, you knew that, but the different upbringing made you a better opponent.
This time, the blow came from below. It was a trip that you jumped while pulling on the fist he used to land another blow in the same second, forcing him to come forward with force while you deflecting once more. Diego staggered forward, steadying himself on the floor once again.
It was all absurdly fast, as if you were a robot. A machine programs for that.
Diego hurled the knife in the wind while attacking with his other fist. You dodged again, but this time you struck back, slamming a blow down the side of your stomach, blocking his attack with your other arm and unleashing a kick in the chest, which made Diego stagger backward.
In a matter of seconds, the knife was at the end of its course. And while Diego was advancing again, the wind that the knife was making hit your hair. But the knife didn't finish course. You stopped the blade with your hand, holding to the object with your palm.
At that moment, you saw Diego's eyes falter. And a surprised gasp by the Hargreeves graces the ambience. Then it was your turn to attack. You threw the knife on the floor, driving the blade into the wooden floor as you went.
There were punches, deflected blows, creeps. The two of you were dancing to an agitated song, which was reaching its climax.
Diego had holding you in him arms, and you turned your body, locked him left arm in your hands while you used the momentum to propel your legs up, past his neck and turning, taking you both to the floor. He fell on his back while you used your own momentum to balance yourself, standing upright.
“YES! YOU OWM ME 50 DOLLARS!" Klaus's voice was heard.
You laughed, and you were about to walk away when Diego dug his left hand into your heel. He pulled you in a single stroke, and it made you fall, your back hitting the ground as he took the lead. Diego put his legs on your hips the first second you fell on the floor, and he used his own strength to keep you there.
You laughed out loud, and so did he.
“This is cheating!” You scolded him, punching him in the chest.
“Whatever, but you had to fall too!”
Diego was a good loser, you recognized that by the intonation of the voice. He was not possessed or reviled because you won, but he wanted it to be an eye for an eye, even if only as a joke.
But as soon as Diego got up off you, holding your hand for you got up too, your eyes went to Five. And you found the green irises burning in an atrocious fire. You frowned, not understanding, but you didn't have time to go over there and ask what happened. Klaus and Luther came to you and Diego.
Klaus charging his brother and Luther asking you how you did that final blow.
“It's for me to use when he pisses me off!” Luther looked directly at his brother in a silent threat “ But he will not get up alive!”
“Fuck you” Diego said before practically shoving 50 dollars in Klaus's face.
“Is easy.” You replied Luther “I'll show you."
But while the brothers were having fun, marveling at you, Five burned in a visseral cholera.
Wasn't it enough for Diego to have literally been on top of you, you had to want to teach that stupid gorilla too ?!
Oh fucking no!
When Diego went to Luther and started explaining with you, him your side, how the scam worked, Five was exploding. Now that stupid men butcher knife would be on your side?! Agreeing and explaining whit you as if it were your husband?!
Wasn't it enough just fucking being on top of you?!
Definitely fuck not!
“Take it easy, buddy.” Klaus appeared beside him “You are looking at them as if you want to kill someone.”
Five just snarled, not bothering to respond, his eyes never leaving you.
“Wait..." Klaus looked better at who Five was staring “Are you jealous of Y/n ?!” He was amazed.
“Shut up!” Five forced himself to swallow a handful of margarita.
“Oh my God!” And he wouldn’t stop “You like her! That must be why you live in a bad mood! You must be in the friend zone! ”
“Didn't I tell you to shut up already ?!” Five looked deathly at his brother “And I'm not in the friend zone with her.”
But Five realized that he gaved too much information to his brother, because now Klaus's face was opening in a shocked smile.
Goddam!
“So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend ?!" Klaus was loving the situation.
But, out of the corner of his eye, Five can see Diego holding your arm, showing Luther the place to deliver any stupid blow.
You gotta be fucking kidding!
“No, that girl is my wife!” Five tapped the margarita glass on the counter, teleporting to you and pushing Diego's hand off your arm, replacing his own.
“The show over!” He growled as he left the room, pulling you with him, your feet stumbling a few times before picking up the pace.
“Five!” You said, but he didn't seem to hear.
The image of Diego's legs at your fucking waist, the body sitting on you, the hand on your arm, rewound Five's mind like a curse. He felt his anger inflate, jealousy whispering in the back of his neck like a little devil, making him see the situation bigger than it really was.
You called him again, but for Five, it was like you called his brother's name. And then he exploded in his own fury.
He couldn't wait to go up all those stupid stairs, all those corridors, Five just pulled you against him, disappearing in the blue flash and reappearing in the his room.
“You are crazy?” You pulled the wrist out of his grip.
“I should be asking you that!” He said “Did you see that scene ?!”
“What a scene?” You frowned.
Five focused his eyes on you, in angry energy.
“Diego on top of you, fuck!" He snarled “Luther drooling like a dog on you!”
“Five.” You thought all that was absurd “They are your brothers!”
“You have no idea how much i don’t give a fuck!”
The situation was ridiculous, and you ended up laughing in disbelief and bewilderment.
“We were fighting!” You defended yourself "Nobody was drooling on me!"
“I swear to god tha ...” Five walked over to you, his eyes flooded with rage, his body enveloped in that intense and explosive energy.
You lifted chin to get a better look, your chest stuck to him, Five's breath hitting the top of your nose. That week had been full of emotions and issues to deal with, 24 hours being insufficient to do everything, explain everything. And, well, you and Five didn't have much time alone...
All of this compiled with the fact that your husband possessed the beauty of an angry god,and that excited you so fuck absurdly.
Suddenly, the air in the room became caustic, seething with the expectation of something improper happening, injecting heat into your chest that descended to the middle of your legs.
You sighed softly, and Five immediately noticed the waters where your thoughts were sailing.
“Does it turn you on?” His voice was hoars “See me angry?”
The sigh you gave was your whistleblower, your chest started to rise and fall more breathlessly than usual, your core starting to pulse. You wouldn't be able to say anything even your life would depended it, you drowning in the malicious and hot climate of that room, compiled with the absurd beauty and intensity of the adult in front of you.
God, you needed him!
“Yes, you like.” Five had an arrogant, boastful tone, mocking how sensitive you were.
But his eyes took on a more conscious tone, and he whispered as he said: "Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop. ”
Five knew his own limits, his own anger, his own strength. If he touched you now, in most simple, he wouldn't be able to stop. You agreed, hands moving gently up his body, resting on him hips.
“I will not be gentle.” Five wanted to you know again.
He had already fucked you hard, drowned in insatiable desire, marking your skin with slaps, hickeys. Five had already mistreated your mouth, made you scream. But never fucked you in anger. He never took his anger out on you. And now, submerged in jealousy, he knew how much strength he would discharge on you.
“I don't want it to be.” But you gave Five the go-ahead on a needy sigh, your fingers running around his waist.
Five dropped his mouth to your ear, tracing a path across your skin with warm lips, now bringing hands up to your skin, feeling how hot, needy you were.
“You're wet and I haven't even touched you yet.” His words hung over you like a warm warning of what was going to happen, what to expect.
You moaned softly, your body shivering, screaming for you to get more, seeking some friction, some contact. Then, as if Five read you thoughts, his left hand clung fiercely to the back of your neck, curling him fingers in your hair.
He forced you to look at him, watching the rage and the extraordinary lust.
“Let me show you what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.”
Five left you brutally, telling you to take off all your clothes, watching all your movements while he got rid of the shirt himself. He left him tie beside the bed, sitting on the mattress and pulling you onto him lap as soon as you finally got naked. He fit thigh in the middle of your legs, making you sit on his thigh.
You groaned, the friction in the place you most wanted, the core pulsing against the dark cloth of him pants. You rummaged your hips for more than you wanted, but Five dropped his hand on your ass, releasing a loud, stinging slap. The groan was unable to be controlled, and you buried your face in the curve of him neck, sobbing there.
“You will be grateful for every slap I give you, do you understand?” He snarled, fingers tightening on your flesh, marking your skin.
You agreed, and thanked him when Five slapped your ass harder. This time, he moved him thigh beneath you, brushing your pulsating core, leaving you in an extremely needy state.
“Fi-five!" A sob escaped, followed by another thanks when a slap hit your in ass again.
Five's hands roughly grabbed your waist, holding you firmly in place as he started to rummage in him thigh, making you moan louder every second. That was torture. You pulsed and wet him thigh, your body rigid from wanting more of that friction, the sobs escaping your lips, the muscles contracted.
“Such a needy slut." He snarled in your ear “So desperate for my thigh.”
You groaned at him words, your fingers around him shoulders, squeezing there while Five took you so badly in him thigh. He dropped his mouth to your hot neck, pouring a hickey there before sighing hoarsely:
“The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."
It sent electric currents to your swollen core, and moans got even bigger when Five increased the speed of his movements, rubbing your clitoris in those mind-boggling movements. His strong grip, compiled wheezing on his neck, his hoarse voice and the movements of his thigh took you to the limit. And you were pushed into that abyss of the climax.
“So fucking quickly.” Five delighted, in a groan, and stuck his hands on your back, holding you there, turning you in one movement to the bed.
Your back hit the mattress, Five’s warm hands roamed your legs, squeezing thighs and parting them, exposing your wet, red core at the climax. Five groaned loudly, as if seeing you hurt physically, and he took his hands off you to grab the tie next to you.
“Be good and open your mouth for me.” You obeyed, and he wiped the cloth over there, fastening his tie.
You sighed brokenly, your heart beating fast, breasts stiff and sore, your ass burning with slaps, core sensitive to climax.
“I think I like you better with a gag in your mouth." Five reflected, him hands roaming your trembling body, squeezing every bit of skin, reveling in how your skin felt at him touch.
Five reveled in the breath you took, enjoying how you looked like a fucking goddess like that. So vulnerable, so needy, so needy.
He was controlling himself until now, pushing you to the limit, making you sensitive, teasing you, making you sensitive to what was coming. Him smile was purely lustful, and Five leaned toward you, roughly sucking the nipple from your breast, nibbling at the needy skin. Then he brought hands up to his pants, opening his belt and zipper, pulling the pieces down far enough for his dick to pop out.
The moan you gave when you felt the hot, luscious member on your thigh was enough to inflate him ego even more. Five turned your body down, pulling your waist up, leaning into your ear to whisper:
“I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll never forget that day.” Then he entered you, rough, strong, badly.
He forced your walls to get used to him size and sank to the bottom of the well, clutching his hands to your hips and pulling you against him dick. You screamed against the tie, pressing your fingers to the pillows, sobbing when Five set a fierce, wild and badly pace, mistreating every inch of you.
One of him hands went to your neck, closing his fingers there and pouring out all the fury and jealousy he felt in the thrusts, going in as deep as he could and pushing your limit. The pornographic sounds of the two of you moaning, the sound of his hip hitting your ass, invaded the room, mixing with the smell of sex, lust and hunger.
You shouted him name when Five left and brutally entered you, making you choke on your own sobs.
“What's it? Are you unaccustomed to my dick?” He tasted it, leaving your neck to slap your ass aggressively “Is it too much for you?”
You sobbed, stopped by the tie, and Five hit you again.
“Do you think someone can fuck you like me?!”
Now him voice was angry and his movements too. Five fucked you like he had spent his whole life in fury at you, waiting patiently for the day when he would discount everything on you. Him hand went to your mouth, pulling tie from there and releasing your toxic moans.
“Answer me, fuck!” One more slap, leaving your ass on fire.
“N-no!” You cried “Nobody ... no-nobody fucks me like you!”
You talks with a more thrust, and Five pushed your chest to the bed, keeping his hand on your back, him moans mixing with your.
Then he reached the peak of anger.
Five came out of you, turned you up and bent your legs, placing your knees on your shoulders. He entered in a brutal way inside you, the new position making him occupy all the minimum vacant spaces. You screamed, tears welling up in your eyes, your hands tightening on his arms, your heart already racing.
It was too much. Your body begged for more, for the climax, for the lust, for anything fierce that Five could give you. He dropped his mouth on yours, biting your bottom lip instead of kissing you, making you swallow his lines when he said:
“Maybe I should leave you like this, that way anyone who wanted to use you could have a go with you. Would you like that? ”
You desperately denied it. Five could very well come out of you and not let you come, and just that thought made your body tremble and tears flow.
“Plea-Please!” You sobbed “I beg you!”
That did things with Five. He stuck his body to your, him arm going around your waist and fucking you as if that could chase away all his anger. This time he kissed you, sticking his lips to yours as he felt you pulse around him and break up in a hushed scream, trembling at the climax.
Five did not falter, his black hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, his heart pounding. He cum strongly inside your core, filling you with hot cum. You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as he came inside of you, slowly calming down.
The two of you sighed, the room flooding with the smell of sex and desire, your hearts thudding at the same pace. You whimpered in his mouth, and when Five want to leave inside you, you denied it, tightening your legs around him waist.
“N-No.” You moaned softly, "Stay inside, please."
Five drew air through his teeth, him hands gripping the sides of your body, stirring inside you, beginning to feel the lust rising.
He kissed you again, whispering:
“You want to have a child of mine, don't you?" It was an arrogant, provocative voice, and you sighed. “You are such a fucking sensitive little thing.”
Then Five started moving again, and you stayed in that room for much longer.
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80s4life · 3 years
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Maybe One Day
Word Count: 1,970
Status: Not requested!
A/N: I had gotten this inspiration from @ smoothcriminals on WATTPAD. There was this whole conversation a bunch of people had gotten into on just cheesy, heartfelt love and one message struck a chord. I did switch it around a bit, but not a lot.
Fandom: Zombieland 2009
Relationship: Tallahassee x Reader
Summary: As the Reader and Tallahassee finally settle down after the eventful day of saving Wichita and Little Rock, Wichita and Columbus getting together, and yet another shock of the girls attempting to leave Columbus, Reader, and Tallahassee behind. During their time of happy drinking and a settling calm, some embarrassing/ cheesy wishes/dreams are revealed.
Masterlist  Zombieland Masterlist
Taglist: @snapessecretdiary​
Warnings: fluff, lovey dovey, language (It’s Tallahassee, come on), slight mention of Hitler? Maybe cheesy to some folks?
{Gif not mine -> @ironduke37​ }
[Y/D/D] = Your Dream Destination (You can use where you were born too if that’s what you’d like!)
(For those who don’t understand, in Zombieland, each character went by the names of where they intended on going (or their places of birth) rather than their real names. This was Tallahassee's way of not getting too involved, but overall, never really worked. It was considered intimate, given Wichita and Columbus’ relationship, and revealing of names being the thing that brought them together more.)
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Sighing, I finally lower my gun, the multiples of destroyed, torn, bloodied dead bodies scattering every direction of where the boardwalk lies. Peering into the distance, I am able to spot Columbus pressing the emergency button, the girls, Little Rock and Wichita, slowly lowering back down to the ground, safely now. I stretch my arms, a feeble attempt to loosen the kinks in my arms, neck and back due to the multiple rounds of gunfire and kickbacks of guns.
A content smile plays on my lips as I start to make my way around the pier to the other Columbus, Wichita and Little Rock were currently stood upon, just catching sight of the pair hugging and kissing, grossing Little Rock out. Somewhere, in the distance, I can see Tallahassee, exiting a small game shack on the roof, surrounded by hoards of dead bodies. All of which he was glad to say he took down on his own, given he only had minimal rounds and two golden plated hand guns.
He just misses me as I make my way behind him, mimicking a zombie, wrapping my arms around his neck in a playful attempt to scare him. He jumps, grabbing my arm and pinning it, about to break it until he realizes who it is. His once tense and slightly scared expression washing off his face to emanate a look of confusion and ‘Why?’ 
Seeing my slightly tense smile, he lets go of my arm, my body easing from its alert state. Instantly, we burst into laughter, him wrapping his arm around my shoulders as we walk to the rest of the group. “You’re fucked up, you know that? I could’a shot you for that dumbass move you did there,” Tallahassee says playfully, although the words he had spoken were 100% true given any other situation.
“Yeah, but you didn’t. Not yet at least. Maybe next time I’ll get lucky, huh?” I respond halfheartedly, punching his chest lightly.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s not talk like that right now, okay? I mean, we just killed a whole fucking boardwalk of zombies- Hey! Maybe even more than Hitler! Do ya’ think we’ll make Zombie Kill of the Week. Oh! Or maybe even the Zombie Kill of the Year!”
“Now who’s the dumb ass?” I roll my eyes.
“Whatever,” he answers lowly, dragging on the last bit of the word.
I giggle, although it was something so simple, him always managing to bring the best out of me was something truly amazing, even after the world has gone to shit. It’s a miracle I had found the boys when I had, forming an unexpected-alliance-turned-friends-turned-family all within the course of a few weeks of road-tripping, killing, getting fucked over multiple times, and Columbus’ charm in coaxing us into telling each other everything there is to know about one another.
Finally meeting up with the girls and Columbus, we get a full view of yet another lustful kiss from the newfound couple, Little Rock rolling her eyes and fist bumping Tallahassee, motioning towards the game shack. Prideful, he does a little imaginary hair flip, placing his arms on his hips, earning yet another laugh from Little Rock and I.
After a while, Columbus, Tallahassee and I make our ways to a candy shop, a big sign stating “Deep Fried Twinkies” instantly catching our eyes, knowing damn well whose been dying for one.
“So, Columbus, you and Wichita a thing now?” I ask, an interested expression on my face, especially having been rooting for him.
“Well, as a matter of fact [Y/D/D], yes. Yes we are,” the last bit of his sentence directed at the currently uninterested cowboy in front of us. I don’t blame him though, Tallahassee had given him a whole damn speech on “She’s Just Not That Into You” for the sheer fact that Columbus was a wimp and Wichita was a crazy, loose canon, fidgety with the thought of relationships. And, not to mention, had left us high and dry multiple times, taking our cars, ammunition, and food more times than one.
“Finally got to first base...Not bad for a skrawny little spit-fuck,” Tallahassee says, almost impressed.
Columbus smiles at this, deciding to ignore the nickname this time ‘round. I decide to stay behind and talk to Columbus about it more, him being somewhat of my best friend now, just catching sight of Tallahassee entering the store with the so-called, “Deep Fried Twinkies.” At this fact, we share a knowing look, understanding that this might just be Tallahassee’s last chance at happiness, Twinkies never expected to be made again. At least, not in this lifetime.
We do, however, enter sometime later, realizing it’s been a while and having a long drive home now, needing to leave soon. We both get quite a scare, entering slowly, as we stand shocked, Tallahassee beating the shit out of the store, yelling something about where are they and such, unable to find them.
Finally, he seems to catch some sort of dignity he has left, straightening and intending on going back through the entrance. That is, until a rustle in the storage closet has us body to body, armed and waiting, Columbus making two shots of his shotgun through the door.
Curious as nothing walks through the door, we all make our way in, realizing its a rat, but not caring as we maneuver our eyes to what Columbus had managed to hit. Tallahassee almost cries and drops to his knees, his hand reaching out to touch the destroyed and messy remnants of Twinkies that had happened to be in a box of their own. Remorseful, we avert our eyes, Columbus slightly scared of the outcome from his fuck-up, but Tallahassee doesn’t say anything. 
All he does is go back outside the store. I feel bad, not going to lie, but any one of us could’ve made the same mistake. I pat Columbus’ shoulder, signifying that it wasn’t that bad. We don’t have time to dwell now, what’s done is done. And now, Wichita and Little Rock are driving away with our car. Oh shit. They’re driving away with our car!
“No!” Columbus yells, coming to the same realization just as Tallahassee and I had.
Unexpectedly, the car stops instantly, Little Rock popping her head out of the sun roof, Wichita making eye contact with Columbus, smiling lovingly. Little Rock, looking towards Tallahassee, tosses him something yellow, his facing instantly lifting, catching and opening the Twinkies wrapper eagerly and taking a huge chomp.
All of us getting into the car happy, we make our way back home, or shall I say, Bill Murray’s mansion in Los Angeles, with Wichita driving. Columbus sat in passenger, Tallahassee and I in the middle row, looking out windows. Little Rock, deciding to take the open truck of the car, takes Tallahassee’s jacket for a blanket, using the space and minimal warmth to her advantage, sleeping to pass the time and to ease her exhaustion.
Not some time later, Columbus and Tallahassee follow in Little Rock’s footsteps, falling asleep in the car, leaving Wichita and I drowsy, looking at scenery in content silence. As she makes a slight sharp right, Tallahassee’s muscular body lightly collides with mine, having fallen over and across to my lap, where his head now rests. I smile, despite myself, letting him be, admiring him in silence and fighting the urge to caress all of the now smoothed creases of his brows and face. I settle for just placing my hand on his arm though, leaning my head against the window, dosing off soon after.
Waking up in the early morning, about 4 am, the sun has not shown, and we are all nudged to get out of the car, getting to the mansion safely. Still tired, I’m unable to focus, being wiped out from the exhaustion from the events of the day, going back to sleep in the car. It didn’t occur to me that we are in a zombie apocalypse, my mind being too fogged up to remember the dangers of staying here. 
Feeling warm and sturdy arms encasing my body, under the backs of my knees and behind my shoulders, my head lays comfortably against Tallahassee’s shoulder as he carries me, bridal style, into the mansion and to our shared two-bed room.
As he goes to lean me into my bed, I pull him with me, not caring for my own dignity and embarrassment, too sleepy to care honestly. He chuckles quietly as I open my eyes, looking up at him, giving a tired pout. I motion for him to lie beside me, which he happily obliges.
Respectfully, he does not go under the covers, kicking off his boots and tossing his hat, laying on top of the blankets and covers providing heat.
“Ya’ know, this is kinda cheesy, but...sometimes, maybe someday, I just want to meet somebody as crazy as me, but gorgeous, and I want to marry them. And- and treat them like the goddess/god they are, and dance to slow songs in the middle of the kitchen with them, and give them the universe. And, if they want, everything and all of me,” I say, slurring here and there from the fight of sleep, not wanting to miss Tallahassee’s presence come morning.
“Why the sudden train of thoughts [Y/D/D]? Something happen?” Tallahassee asks, concerned now, starting to think of the worst. Maybe you were thinking the world was getting the best of you or you were losing hope?
“Yeah...yeah...I guess something did happen. You. You happened. And I know what your gonna say, and I just wanted to come clean while I still have little care for my dignity. I never knew what it meant to love someone like the way I do now. I never knew that love could’ve been so unexpected and make me change every plan or thought I thought I had prepared. I didn’t want to be tied down, I didn’t want to be attached, I didn’t want love, or kids, or a person for that matter...That’s before I fell for you,” I say, almost pissed at myself now as the room had gotten tense, possibly ruining the moment.
“...That’s good,” he answers, about to make me question the answer he gave, but he cuts me off quickly, “-because I feel the same thing for you. Maybe not all that romantic shit, but I’ll be romantic...enough? I love you is what I’m trynna say here. I could be that person for ya,’ or at least I’d try to...”
I giggle, on the brink of tears, crashing my lips to his, embracing his body with my own, not wanting to let him go now that I have him. “I’ve always wanted a cowboy,” I say playfully.
“Yeah, and I’ve always wanted a pain in the ass,” he answers cheekily.
The answer he gets in return is a light punch to the arm half-heartedly, “Y/N.”
“What?” he asks, caught off-guard.
“My name... It’s Y/N,” I say sweetly, the love and trust pouring with the words spoken.
“That’s an amazing name,” he says, playing with the strands of my hair, “It suits you.”
He never answered with his real name. It didn’t matter. Whatever his reasons were for it didn’t matter either. All that did matter was us.
This was a new chapter we’ve started for ourselves. Brand new, full of new ideas, promises, and events waiting to happen. A chapter we can embrace together, finally, as a couple, unexpected, but perfect and full of love to share.
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Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land - Bucky Barnes x Reader
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So, it's the third part. Is it the last? I don't know. I don't knoww... I am guessing not. But for now, here is a happy ending.
Masterlist
PART I.
PART II.
Part III - Yours.
To say that you were trying to hide away was a lie. The accurate statement would be that you were trying to go unnoticed by every curious eye in the camp. Peggy was informed that you were there on Erskine’s behalf and that you were to attend every… special meeting. Colonel Philips had to agree but you had to stay out of sight “not to disturb his men”. Well, human rights were something foreign in this new timeline. Time was of the essence, as you had already stayed over two months in 1943 and you just wanted nothing more than to fast forward and put an end to this.
Steve was trying to keep up with the training, but his physical abilities were not great. Not yet. The days were growing fewer, and the anticipation was building up. You kept thinking that maybe you could take out that Hydra Agent before he killed Erskine but then again, what if that made everything so much more complicated than necessary? You had already changed a couple of things… then again, Fury should have known that it would not be as simple as he had told you. Hell, he probably even knew that you weren’t going to follow the rules he had put. You made a promise to yourself – when you go back, he had to run for his life.
You talked frequently with Erskine and Peggy – she was less trusting and in her line of work, you got why. After a point, Colonel made you train as well because his men “were gawking anyway, you might as well give ‘em motivation… keep ‘em inspired”. You had rolled your eyes so hard, Steve thought they might actually get stuck like that. Peggy respected you more after that, opening up little by little. Phillips had been open-minded enough to allow Carter, but another female in his camp… made him tick.
You were aware that it would be a long way until you saw him again – wait… until you got your hands on the file… not see him. Right? You shook your head. Now was not the time not the place, you thought as you run a marathon with the others. You were purposefully staying behind, to be close to Steve. At least, until the serum, he had company.
You tour the States with the Star – Spangled Man, himself. And now you knew why Steve had tried his best not to spoil anything in your time – you already did know everything but didn’t know it. You had seen the affection he had developed for a certain agent, and it broke him that she wasn’t following him to the tour. He used to talk to you, while you were pretending to be surprised when he faked-punched “Hitler”. You had to stay close, at all times and that was the best he had come up with. Since you didn’t have another idea, you just went with it. You hated every single minute but at least, day by day, you were growing closer to the end of this fucking tragedy.
You had to remain quiet if you wanted to be – where did you want to be? Where was that file? When you saw Peggy walking towards Steve in a makeshift tent, you offered a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes; she returned, genuinely happy to see a familiar face within the bloodstained battlefields. If there was anyone thinking that war didn’t change a person, they hadn’t lived through one. You hadn’t even been in the front lines, fighting for bullets, as you were informed and yet, you felt heavier and without the hope, you had brought with you; where had it gone, was unknown to you, it was just not with you anymore. Having seen the faces of people who wanted to support any way they could and the other ones, the ones who were traumatized by how much they had seen, you really missed your time – sure, you had seen pretty big battles, but this was brutal.
A platoon of tired wounded soldiers, an ambulance that rolled up to the hospital tent. Corpsmen unloaded. The wounded were on stretchers. You suddenly feel your heart squeeze. You hated yourself for this but it meant you were closer to finding him – no, not him, the file, you reprimanded yourself. But of course, it was him you were thinking about. Screw the file, screw the mission – you wanted to save him but you couldn’t. Just as you couldn’t save Erskine or anyone.
You didn’t wait for Steve to connect the dots, you had already run to Colonel Phillips’ tent and practically demanded to know, something he found weird and not acceptable but you stood your ground. Peggy and Steve had barged in on them, asking the same.
“What is with you two?” he asked, genuinely not understanding. He gave in moments later… you hadn’t considered that he could have given that answer…
“I’ve signed more condolence letters today than I’d care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry”. What? No… he was still alive, he had to be. He had yet to become one of the Howling Commandoes. No. He didn’t know what you did.
You were left frozen, momentarily forgetting that you knew he was still alive, barely. Peggy placed a hand on your shoulder, as Steve left the tent abruptly.
“I am sorry” she offered, realizing now that you had only been sticking around in hope of seeing him again. And it wasn’t that big of a lie too. You tried to nod but it was forced.
“No, you’re not coming with me. You’re staying right here with Agent Carter” Steve tried to reason with you but you needed that file, and you were pretty sure it was there. You couldn’t exactly tell him that, though.
“Listen, I know things you don’t. Including, how to get in the base” you admitted; he had forced your hand, or rather, mouth. You had studied that very base as a project for Shield, to show them how easy it would be if, in the rescue mission, you were about to embark right now, Rogers didn’t force in but slipped through the cracks. And now you had to put that theory to the test.
His face showed that he didn’t believe you. It was Peggy who made it possible, after all.
“If I may, I think you need her Steve. You can’t save everyone without help” she offered him and you backed away to give them a bit of privacy. You changed behind a tree, in the dark, from that hideous dress and slipped into a pair of pants and a white shirt. Nothing quite fit but it was way better than to go onto a suicide mission in a dress.
Ten minutes later, you were greeted by Howard Stark, the resemblance as evident as ever. You would talk to Tony – oh, wait. He knew… that little shit, he knew all along.
“Fuck” you repeated for the hundredth time, as you fell on top of Steve, who had no problem landing without a parachute – you weren’t that indestructible. Your training didn’t evolve jumping out of moving planes… well it did. But you were never really fond of that exercise. Maintaining that High Level in Shield didn’t come easy, but you really wanted it and you had worked for it.
Jumping off a plane without a parachute, trying to infiltrate a Hydra base, and retrieving Bucky and his file was not something you had signed up for. It was too late to turn back now.
“Will you ever stop?” Steve whined after you hadn’t stopped swearing under your breath. You looked at him with an annoyed side look and rolled your eyes – you were about to say something when you found your way in. Three covered trucks rumbled towards the gate. You were signaling Steve to sneak into the last one, while the gate guard was checking the driver’s papers. What you didn’t expect was that you had to take out the trash first.
You sat tight, waiting for the truck to stop. Steve placed himself in front of you, shielding you while he acknowledged your help with a simple nod. The truck halted and after ten or so seconds, Steve smashed his shield onto a guard, guiding you out. You realized that you had no idea where they were; the soldiers, Bucky, and the file had to be here, but you had not been prepared for this, as well as you thought.
By mere chance, and luck alone, you came face to face with four prisoners, who were thrown back into a cell, half of them unconscious. They were looking at you and Steve with bewilderment you had not witnessed before.
As Steve made his way and freed them, your heart was taking you in another direction. You heard them call it the isolation ward. He was there. A guard rushed down the stairs, his jackboots almost crushing your fingers, but you were fast enough to hang under the staircase. You yanked his ankle and he tumbled down the stairs. You proceeded carefully and stepped onto a catwalk, only to find out another one with a gun.
“Fucking fantastic” you said sarcastically as you threw yourself to him, exactly like Nat had thought you, rending him unable to move. Steve found you in time as you looked over the factory floor. He pushed you behind him, as he took in the full scale of the bomb-making facility.
“Thanks for waiting” he commented but two more soldiers attacked both of you. Steve whirled and crushed one’s neck with his shield, while the other fired at you. A shield blocked your view, and you were thankful.
“I promise to wait” you mumbled, making Steve chuckled as he tossed the other one to the ground. You reached the corridor you were being pulled towards. At the far end, you saw Zola with files pressed to his chest. He saw Steve and ran the other way. He had the file. He had to have it.
“Go. Leave. Find him. GO” you screamed at Steve while you had already leapt down the corridor after Zola. You needed the file. What for, you had no clue. And at that moment, you realized that you knew nothing. All it took was two steps and you engaged in full-blown combat. A guard, helping Zola escape, threw up his forearms like an offensive lineman blocking a defensive back, but she slipped to the side, pushed his elbow down and away, caught his head, and rolled him into the floor. Not even a second later, you had thrown another one off of you and were on your feet, rushing toward Zola in slow motion. He reached under and grabbed a pistol. You did not try to stop the gun; you rolled his hand under his wrist, drove his arm over and back, and pulled him backward and down. You had the gun before he slammed into the floor, and you were pointing it at him.
“Give me the entire file. NOW!” you screamed at him and for a mere second, you were thinking about using the gun. It was just one bullet. And this would be over. And Bucky wouldn’t be where you had left him. Fuck. He complied, rather easily. He was a coward, but you were smarter. You saw the scribbles – he had injected him with the super-soldier serum already. Maybe he had already started…
He knew which file you were talking about. He gave it to you, trying to hide some papers in the other files. You snatched them all.
“He is destined for greatness, you know. The Serum worked better than it has on your hero friend” and with that, he got up and ran. You were holding the file for dear life and couldn’t move.
Explosions were making your decision easier. You started running like hellfire was chasing you. No one had bothered stopping you; even their soldiers were running for their lives. You found an exit and raced towards it. You kept running until you were far inside the woods – and then, you saw the flames. They would be alright, you kept thinking.
More people were joining, and you hid the file under your shirt, securing it with the belt of your pants. No one could know. They carried familiar faces – because they had their own exhibition, you reminded yourself. There was a stinging pain coming from your head, but you knew that it was better not to know. A couple of bruises and a lot of blood, not all of it was yours. You stayed silent and waited until you saw them. Steve was helping up an exceptionally racked soldier. The said soldier, however, felt your gaze and looked up. And even in the dead of night, after too many explosions to count and too much trauma, his eyes had the same effect on you.
You weren’t quite sure how but the next thing you touched was him. You had all but run to him, wanting to hug him as if he was oxygen and you were dying but you forced yourself to be gentle. He was clearly out of it. But he didn’t even think about it when he pressed you to him.
“You’re here” he whispered, and it was the first time you noticed his voice had changed. It sounded more like you remembered from your time. You could only feel him and that scared you because you couldn’t pick on the differences any longer. You had the file and now it was time to go. But how would you leave him?
Steve gathered them all around and told them the plan; even if they were exhausted, they could not stop now. They had to get far from there. You agreed but seeing their faces made your heart tremble. It was not just Bucky who had suffered in the hands of Hydra. No. And he wasn’t going to be the last, you imagined.
Bucky never let go and you had to support him occasionally, letting him lean on you. There was nothing to say. You didn’t have words and you had no idea what you were supposed to say after this. You were dying to know the content of the file, but you promised not to even look at it as long as Bucky was around. You owed him that much. You dared to look at him, blue eyes lighting up the darkness of the night, even when they were fighting a war themselves. It made you almost halt right in your track and spill everything. He still hoped.
“We made it” he whispered, in peace. There was a certain weightlessness about him that wasn’t that present in your time. There was a silent smile that made him reveal his dimples again. God, you had missed them. Amid a war, he seemed happy.
“We did, Buck” you reassured him. For now, that would have to do. A moment later, he became skeptical. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes spoke loudly.
“You’re here” he reprised, and you knew that it was the excitement, settling down. You nodded but you knew he was no longer happy about that.
“Why on earth are you here?” he asked loud enough for Steve to stop dead in his heels and look back wearing a very guilty look.
“No, no he didn’t make me join the army. I wanted to keep an eye on him and the possibility of seeing you, open” you admitted, and it wasn’t a lie, per se. It was more honest than you cared to think. He arched an eyebrow but immediately regretted it.
“Ouch, ouch… gosh” he let out a chuckle, and you were sold. You smiled widely and tried to imagine how many days this adventure of yours would cost you.
The trail of blood from his ear, an angry cut covering his left cheek, couple of bruises and scruffs all over his face; you saw them all in the gruesome glory. But he didn’t seem to mind, as he lit a cigarette, enjoying the long drags. You were staring at his dog tags, not being able to stop thinking about what was next. You had just returned to the camp, Peggy rushing to Steve and Colonel Phillips pleased at the scene, but he never showed it. You left them to their enjoyment, as they had joined in cheering and went to grab a frozen shower.
You wished it wasn't that easy to forget that it had been days on the run from when you had found him. You wished to forget that he had the serum already running in his veins because you were angry and mad at hydra for what they had done but it would prove to be the only way for Bucky to survive long enough.
Everyone was fighting off their demons but Bucky, he could hide them with ease under a mask. The person you had left behind was smiling long enough to be noticed but as soon as someone turned away, he dropped the act. This version of him was hiding behind other things as well, shielding him from what was inside… flirting and laughing and joking … they were all distractions from the war he was fighting.
There was a significant difference, however. Even though this Bucky was still fighting off demons, there was a certain quality, a certain emotion, that made it easier; he was still able to hold on to hope. You had left behind a man tortured, only to find this man, who was not exactly the same. The only thing you could feel was your heartbreaking at the time he spent in between.
Slowly but steadily, you had come to realize that you wouldn’t be able to leave before they did… You had tried to avoid him as much as you could, asking Peggy for help, which she didn’t understand at first, but you offered the excuse of a dead military boyfriend and the PTSD this was bringing up. She hadn’t questioned you further and kept you busy and away from Bucky. After a day or two, he had gone off with the Howling Commandos killing Nazis in the name of freedom.
It had been a week since you last saw him and it made you worried. What had also occurred during that week was the first real contact with the file you had been sent to retrieve. At first, you thought that it was all about information regarding Bucky, to which you didn’t know why Fury would need it. He already knew everything about that man and anyway, he was alive and able to talk to him more.
But then, the notes started drifting off from what you usually find in a military file. Scribbles in German and Russian. You had little to no knowledge of German, but Russian you could manage. You had to manage the other language as well if you truly wanted to figure out the importance this file could have had in your time, for Fury to risk a lot of things. Солдат, Сыворотка, Армия, История, Сила… Soldier, Serum, Army, History, Power. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Zola’s plan was to turn him in the Winter Soldier from the beginning. He is destined for greatness; Zola had told you. But you shivered and swallowed hard.
It went into great detail on the how’s and the why’s behind the entire concoction. And after three days you had finally understood Fury’s motives and you would not oblige.
You had heard voices coming from outside your tent, making you shove the file under a makeshift bed and a pile of clothes. Your body was reacting without your mind’s permission. You had to physically restrain yourself from leaving the tent and crushing him inside a hug. You already knew that you couldn’t tell him, you weren’t able to warn him of what was to come and set him free from Hydra because you would mess with things you didn’t understand. Bucky knew that you would end up here, so this had already happened for him. Yet, you were experiencing it for the first time. You didn’t understand the time and its principles, and you didn’t want to, either.
Peggy had already informed you about the local pub, putting on a special thank you themed night for the soldiers and the entire camp. You knew that they would go before you asked them. You knew that you would go, as well. And that was due to one sole reason. Bucky would be on his way to that god-forsaken train tomorrow. You felt your throat dry, like sandpaper, trying not to scream at him, knowing that he would hear you, even if he was all the way across the camp. You knew it was not a good idea, seeing him right before the inevitable but you had waited a long, long time to just leave now.
Before you knew it, he had entered your tent, in search of you, with a panicked look on his face, blood on his upper lip, dirt under his nails. Once he had eyes on you, you noticed that everything seemed to go away, a light suddenly appearing in his eyes. He didn’t know whether you would still be here, you realized.
He enveloped you in a bone-crushing hug, one you couldn’t say no to.
“I’ve missed you, sweetheart” he mumbled, and you melted into his arms. You were in so much trouble, you knew – how were you going to justify these moments when you returned home? You knew that it was not what you had signed up for, but he was here, holding you close to him, radiating warmth and affection and you just… fell. Not in love, no. But…
He didn’t hesitate, he kissed you with the passion of a soldier’s last wish, and it scarred you. The file under the mattress was mocking you because you hadn’t returned back home, but rather, you were planning to go to the pub with him. Fury would have been furious and then you remembered… screw him. He wasn’t going to hold that file, ever.
His lips were rough and cut and they tasted salty and metallic. Blood. They tested of blood. His. You lost yourself momentarily in the depths of your mind, knowing how hard it must have been for Bucky not to tell you everything, back in your time. And you thought that he didn’t know why… why you were sent back.
For the next twelve hours, you wouldn’t think about it. You didn’t want to ruin his last night. If only he’d known… By the way, he cupped your face, you knew that he could never learn. He was happy to see you.
“Get dressed, doll, we’re going out tonight. What do you say?” he asked, slightly too eager but you got why. You needed to say no, you knew that. So, naturally, you said yes.
He was positively beaming, a smile that reach his eyes and made his dimples visible again. You rolled your eyes at that but couldn’t break his heart. He was slowly backing out of your tent, as he had to grab an hour or two of sleep and a shower.
“I’ll wait for you” he promised as he winked.
He did.
People were laughing, they were smiling, and the war could almost be forgotten. Υou were starting to understand why your heart was shuttering all of the sudden; those people had friends, family, a life that had been left behind. The Howling commandos would return, but not all of them had that privilege. Peggy was kind enough to lend you a deep dark blue dress, which now swung at your hips yet, exposing your collarbones, and a pair of appropriate shoes. You walked deeper inside the pub, only to find Steve and Bucky sitting on the bar. Peggy had made her way towards them, and Steve was completely in awe. You smiled, knowing now why he didn’t date again.
They were talking business because that was the only way Steve knew how to communicate with a female. You arched your eyebrow and walked to them. They were both wearing their dark green overcoats with golden buttons, pockets, and ties around their necks. Steve hadn’t noticed you but Bucky did and his mouth hung agape, which made his friend look, amused.
He gave you a wild smile and a nod, while Peggy was looking Bucky, entertained.
“You, you… wow” was all he could say, in which you had to pretend to cough to hide your laugh.
“Wow to you too. Buy me a drink?” you offered plainly, with no more excuses, finally giving in and letting the night unfold. He did exactly as you told him, without wasting a minute. You had four hours with him. And then he would be on his way and you would have to go back. This Bucky didn't know anything, he didn't know why you would leave, he didn’t know that he would fall from a train, he didn't know why you were reserved, he didn't know that you knew him better than he ever could imagine and he didn't know that you were there because of him and he definitely would not be able to figure out why had you dumped him right before his big adventure if you had declined.
This person in front of you trying to get an order right deserved a happy moment and maybe even some days that were about to come, he would be able to grasp on that feeling and hold on. a glass of red wine made its way to you. he had ordered whiskey but remembered that you had a soft spot for Malbec. He knew that he couldn't offer you that at this given moment, but he tried his best. You really didn't mind the wine. If you were being honest, you were there for him and him only, not even Steve.
“To our future, baby” he softly whispered in your ear, and you knew the gravity of his words. He made a toast to your mutual future, and you knew that, in a way, he never broke that promise, even if he never really understood. And then it hit you... all those years, 70-something years, he thought you were dead. He thought that you had either moved on with your life and had a family or didn't. All those years, he never truly knew where you were from. He didn't know that you were from his future and that he would find you again. The pain was hitting you like tidal waves. You didn't know if he had blamed himself for not being there for you, or if he had searched for you. Maybe when he had those glimpses of his past when his mind was waking up from the trance hydra put him in, he had actually gone out looking for you only to never find a single trace of your name.
“I’ll drink to that, Sergeant” you boosted his ego, and his chest swelled with pride.
Two hours had passed, and you had danced, you had drunk and laughed and had let him be with you in public, bragging about you to his friends, constantly reminding you that he was completely, utterly, catastrophically yours. You weren't a very good dancer but you both knew that dancing was just an excuse to hold each other close. His smiles were genuine and sweet, wrinkling up his eyes, his hands were carefully adoring you and his eyes were full of tenderness.
He was so young you noticed so untouched by everything that would be inflicted upon him; pain, torture, demons, damages… those were things he did not know of. Even after the incident, even after having rescued him, he was still hopeful of the future. It was that innocence that lingered on to his face, slipped through the cracks into his eyes, and was reflected back at you. It was that light that guided him towards the end of the war, hoping to start a family and settle down.
“You’re not entirely here, are you?” he noticed and asked, but in all honesty, it was more a statement. You couldn't help but smile a bit. No, you were not. You reached for his cheek and placed a small peck.
“Let’s get out of here” you suggested in a low voice, dreading your own decision to leave a room full of people just to be alone with him. There were things you needed to say and even though you knew you could not reveal anything, you were well aware that you could give him hope. Maybe that was enough. He noticed the sudden change and the austerity of your voice. He knew by now that when you were serious about something, you had your reasons. He had also known for a while now that you hadn't been honest with him not entirely. There was something about you that gave away a certain darkness, like a premonition. He would never force you to talk if you didn't want to. You had your reasons.
He nodded in agreement, offered you his arm which you took, and felt strange to see flesh, where you had only seen metal. You were making your way out of the pub when you realized that even though you needed to say things you had no idea how. It had crossed your mind before; it wasn't the first time. You thought about telling him the truth to warn him that he would find you again in seven decades from now, but he wouldn't be him, he would have been a changed man. Then again, nothing would change. He would still go through everything hydra had put him and even if you told him, you were from the future, he wouldn't believe you. Even if he did, what other option was there? Not be on the train? If you altered this timeline that much, your Bucky would never be where you left him. And so, everything you wanted to say turned to dust.
You sat to the back of the Jeep that had brought you in this pub and Bucky slid beside you. Time did not care about loneliness. When time made you, it didn’t tell you how lonely the darkness could be. You could hear people laugh in the light. First, you envied them. But when everyone else around you started to die, you felt their sorrow seeping into your bones. You craved to die with them. Soon you realized time didn’t care about your needs.
Time did not care about pain. The world around you ached, and you felt the echo in your bones. You could count the fragile symphony of an old orchestra that cried in agony. You felt each bruise on your soul like a punch to the gut. You swallowed, you screamed. But no tears were falling. Maybe you collected scars because you wanted the proof of all the pain that was raw inside of you.
Time did not care about healing. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been whole. Now it felt as if the wind scourged through your holes and all your muscles and sinews were stitched up in the wrong places. Sometimes you wondered how long you had to endure. You looked at him and thought that the price for eternity left ichor on your tongue.
Time did not care about history. Years from now someone was to ask what you had done. There were whispers between the ruins and the soft wind of change playing tune to your name. But your scars were all forgotten. Your bones buried in the ground. No one would tell your story when your time was up.
Looking at him, in the middle of the night, alone in a car, you knew he was not as courageous as he wanted people to believe.
“I know you are worried about me, doll. I won’t lie, I am nervous too, but I mean, I can imagine being difficult to bring down Zola. You’ve seen him” he began and then paused. He was possibly letting on too much. You gave him a reassuring smile and started playing with his hands. Both of them.
“You have every right to be nervous. Hell, if it was up to me, you wouldn’t be going anywhere” you admitted. It was not up to you, however. He kissed your hands, over and over again.
“It seems, it’s me against the world, doesn’t it?” he mumbled, nervousness taking a hold of his words.
“You are not just you... You are a collection of the stories you've read and the night skies you've admired. You are the smiles you've given to strangers and the tears you've lost on your pillows. And I know that you have lost a lot of them. You are the lives you've touched. You are a mixture of cosmic stardust and earth. you are a descendent of nomads and sailors. You are the adventures you've had and will have. You are your imagination and anticipation. You are not simple. You are a complex yet magnificent product of the life you have lived so far. So, no, I don’t think is just you against the world” you poured out and you had no idea why. He was looking at you in pure amazement. You saw it in his eyes. He would find himself looking back on these days, recognizing the strength that carried him through. You couldn’t stop time, even if you would do anything to.
“Maybe I should had stayed when you asked me to” he let himself admit. You couldn’t let him leave in that mindset. You had to give him something to hold on to. You wanted this night to go out on a high note.
“Don’t say that. You will come back and find me and do the whole family plan. But more than anything, I just hope you don’t give up on yourself, or on the dreams, you know you are capable of. I hope you don’t give up on the future you are excited to live with, well, me, Bucky. I hope you’re proud of the person you are because you are someone no one could ever be” you told him truthfully and you would repeat those words to your Bucky as well. You meant them. He choked back a tear or two and pushed all the way down.
He was looking at you as if you were the holiest thing, he had laid eyes upon. He let your hands, just to make you lean on him, in a weird but very much needed, hug.
You had no recollection of when you had fallen asleep. You were woken by Steve and Peggy, informing you that you and Peggy had to get back and Bucky and Steve needed to get their things. Everything went according to plan, you thought bitterly.
You were never too good at saying goodbye. You never said it. You didn’t want to. You wished them the best of luck, not that they were going to need it, as Peggy chimed. Well… You hugged Steve after her and then crushed him with another hug and a soft kiss. The moment you got out of the Jeep, there was another one waiting for them. Moments later, they were waving their goodbyes. Neither would return.
“See you soon, sweetheart” he softly mouthed.
“See you in a heartbeat” you told him, with a fake wide smile.
You didn’t wait. You went into your tent, grabbed the file and the transmitter, and pressed it with all your might.
The compound was dark. No one in sight. You were not sure what day, month, or year this was.
“Safety protocol activated” echoed in the dark and you realized that F.R.I.D.A.Y. was still a thing, which could only mean you weren’t in 2030. You shook your head.
“No, no. No protocol, please. Come on F.R.I.D.A.Y, you know me” you whispered-shouted in the ceiling as if the A.I. resided there. If you remembered correctly, you could have around 15 more seconds to make a run for it before Tony found you there.
You weren’t sure exactly where you were but judging by the industrial lights, you were in the office Fury had shoved you in, that night. You knew your way now and you did run.
Thirty seconds later, you were in the room Tony had first given you and to your surprise, it was exactly as you had left it. Everything was untouched and unmoved. You hid the file under the bed and -
“You’re back” an awestruck Tony said, making you spin around to acknowledge him. He hadn’t changed a bit. Which could only mean that you weren’t in the past for that long after all.
“I am” was all you replied. You gave it a minute to sink in. You hadn’t thought about that. You just wanted to make it back here… but now that you had - you didn’t know your next move. You didn’t know if you were welcomed or not. Tony took a minute too. His reaction was a lot better than you would have expected.
“Oh, kid. You have no idea how good it is to see you” he honestly told you, in a very rare moment of vulnerability. He just pulled you close and hugged you and you were surprised that you were more than glad to hug him back.
“Fury is on his way, don’t worry” he let on and you pulled back abruptly. He realized that you weren’t really fond of that person right now.
“Fuck. I need to see him first. Where is he?” you breathed out while grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, which was not yours per se. He had made the mistake of loaning you the shirt one day, but he never saw it again. Tony was making grimaces and you rolled your eyes.
“He doesn’t want to see me, does he? What an idiot… he is jealous of himself!” you let out a bit louder than you would have expected. Tony nodded in agreement.
“Yup, not gonna disagree there. But he doesn’t know you’re here either” he eased but you were already fed up.
“Director Fury has arrived, sir” F.R.I.D.A.Y announced and you just huffed in annoyance.
“Gather everyone. Living Room. Two minutes tops” Tony instructed and turned his back on you, to let you change.
A minute later, file in hand, pressed again your chess, you were in the living room, while Fury was marching in. But so did everybody else. And then you laid eyes on him. Your Bucky. He was there. He was standing in the same room. He was there.
Bucky’s eyes traveled to you and his mouth hung agape. He forgot how to function for a solid minute. You had come back. You tried to push that thought away and to focus on the reasons you could murder Fury.
“I don’t demand a party every time I’m here, Stark” Fury pointed at all of your friends. And that was enough to make you explode.
“No, you don’t, do you?” Tony answer with the same level of sarcasm. Fury wasn’t a patient man. Steve was looking at you with too many questions, Natasha, Wanda, and Pietro were glad you were back, and Banner was trying to figure out what had happened.
“You’ve got something for me?” Fury demanded. You noticed how both Bucky and Steve took a couple of steps closer to you. You were still wondering what to do. But that became evident when Fury arched his brow.
You walked towards Bucky since he was a few steps away from Fury and tension was thick.
“Actually, I do. I got questions and accusations, you motherfucker. You send me into another time, fully aware that it would affect everything, that I would need too much time to retrieve the file you wanted, which by the way I had to figure out by myself, blindfolded, and you expect me to survive a war, a couple of months on camps, touring the world with him, and breaking him” you deadpanned and pointed at Steve and Bucky, respectively. Tony was eyeing Fury in a different way.
“And all that for a file. No. Let me tell you what it was. You didn’t want any file. You didn’t want Bucky’s file from the army. No. You wanted this. You wanted Zola’s formula and the way to create more super-soldiers that would follow your orders alone. You want an army. I am not gonna give you that” you spit out and extended the file towards Bucky. He was looking at it without knowing what to do.
“If Bucky wants it, he will have it. If he doesn’t, I’ll burn it” you said in a calm voice, which was way more terrifying than your screaming. Bucky looked at you, searching for an answer. He needed to know if the thing you were offering could help him get rid of the Winter Soldier. You didn’t know. You couldn’t read everything. You thought not.
He slowly nodded and took it from your hand, metal brushing off your skin. Familiarity and ease, calming you down. At least, you knew that it contained comments about him being better than the “other super soldier” – maybe he needed to read it to believe it.
“You don’t get to decide that” Fury threatened but you had nothing to lose.
“Or what Nick, you’re gonna sent me away again? Screw you, screw this plan, screw your little corrupted organization. I’m out” you finally handed him your resignation.
“I think it’s time to leave” Tony stepped between you and Fury. It would be ridiculous if any other man of his height did that but his ego and confidence were big enough to make this move seem powerful and intimidating. And Fury did. But so did Bucky.
You wanted to stay and chat with all of them, tell them you had missed them, and thank Tony for this, but you sprinted after him. Steve understood. He would have done the same.
You found him in his room, trying not to break. He had already opened up the file and he was appalled by the same notes of that very man who cost him his life. He heard you coming in but couldn’t look at your face.
You stood, your back on the now-closed door behind you, as you tried to give him space. He had his back on you and he even tried to conceal his metal arm from view. You tried to shut up but failed.
“I’m so sorry you’re feeling the pain that you’re feeling. I’m so sorry everything hurts so intensely that you feel like you don’t want to be here. I’m so sorry you know what it feels like to be held in the hands of complete darkness. I’m so sorry you feel like no one understands what you’re feeling. You have been dealing with so much. It’s too much, I know. But listen, the light is never as far as it feels. It is with you even in the darkest of moments. It is holding you and it wants you to survive this. It feels so heavy right now, but you will find freedom soon. You are strong enough. You can handle this. It is okay to lean on other people to hold you when you can’t hold yourself. It is okay to break. Sometimes we have to hit a breaking point and experience the meltdown fully so that we can fully heal and be set free from what is tearing us apart. You are not a bad person. You deserve to do what’s best for you. We can’t control a lot in this life, but there are small pieces of it that we can. I hope you choose to give yourself permission to break and cry and try to get through this so that you can experience the incredible wonders of living. You are supposed to be here. You belong. You are so much more important than you feel” you hadn’t breathed a single time. You had things to say and this time you wouldn’t back away. This was your Bucky. He had yet to turn to face you, so you waltzed over there, softly touched his arm, the one he was so worried about and he almost flinched.
“Sorry, I – I missed you Bucky. God, I fucking missed you” you whispered airily and you wanted nothing more than a hug. He looked at your hand, still touching his metal arm, and slowly turned to you. He was broken. Really broken this time.
“You saw me” was all he said at first. You nodded, understanding his reference. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth. And no matter how sexy was that you couldn’t help but feel in pain.
“I did. You knew that. And now you’re thinking that I preferred you as you were. That’s the thing, honey. Even though you were there, that younger version of you, I was missing you catastrophically much, because you weren’t. You. This version of you” you softly muttered, giving him time to fully accept your words. His eyes fell on your hand and his arm.
“All of you” you were practically begging him to accept his own self, the way you had. He still looked defeated. You only saw, stormy blue eyes full of demons and kindness, strength and love. You saw him and you knew why you could never believe that he thought you liked the person he once was.
40’s era Bucky Barnes was just a simple man trying to look out for his best friend. Bucky pre-WWII, he was a ladies’ man, but he was loyal, almost to a fault. He felt a heavy sense of protection for his best friend, and even you. To everyone who knew him, Bucky died when he fell off a train trying to save Steve. No one would have thought he would have survived the fall. The experiments Hydra did on him helped him to survive the otherwise deadly fall. Hydra forces found Bucky’s body and took him back to a different research facility, one that no one knew about. While there, he was tortured and brainwashed. It was there that they created the Winter Soldier. When in Hydra, he had no control of himself or his actions. He was a puppet to them; therefore, he had no morals or characteristics that defined him as a human. If he started to rebel or remember who he was, Hydra was there and ready to wipe him of his identity.
Bucky Barnes was a broken man, desperately trying to piece himself back together while simultaneously finding out how to add the Winter Soldier in. To you, he was an unconventional superhero because, in a way, he was flawed. Suffering from PTSD and possibly dementia at some point, you knew why all of the psychological damage that Bucky has faced was showing now. He was only seeing the bad parts he used to know.
He became soft under your eyes. Allowing the possibility of your choice.
“Good Steve Rogers went on to become the great Captain America. In Evil Nazi leader Johann Schmidt, the serum amplified the ideology of hate that drove his ambitions, literally turning him into the red skull. But then Erskine’s words made me question, what is Bucky’s greatness? Like it or not, Zola did say you were destined for greatness. Sure, he defined the word a bit differently but here I am giving it a proper definition. You have always been a hero. It’s just a matter of you realizing that you can use your strength for good and fight for people. So, what is your greatness? Your will. The will to keep going, to fight, to defend… You are a survivor. You dealt with the horrors, the darkness, and the weight of being an antihero to finally come out the other end”.
The silence was prolonged and nerve-racking. He needed time to process. You were there, too close to him, and yet you hadn’t moved your hand from his arm. You didn’t want to touch him unless he was okay with it.
“I didn’t find anything here” he whispered, a bit saddened. He really hoped that Zola’s notes would have the answer. You took the file from him, not forcefully, but little by little. You searched his eyes for your answer. He slowly nodded and smiled. It was small and not the one he wanted to give you, but you took it and smiled ten times as bright.
“You can light it up, you know” he commented, and you surprised. You knew where he kept his lighters, just next to the desk. You didn’t want to let go of his arm, but you needed too. You must have looked stupid because Bucky let out a chuckle. You were going to be okay.
He made that decision for you. He threw the file on his desk, without letting you go and left it there while he grabbed you and snuck his hands around your waist, enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. You didn’t mind. You didn’t mind one bit. There was comfort and everything that was missing from before, it was now present. You knew the truth now. He wasn’t forced to lie to you. You had picked him, and for Bucky, that was something extraordinary. You didn’t really get why, since you had fallen for him since the beginning. Flesh or metal didn’t matter. It was him.
You kissed him and tasted doubt.
You were dizzy from the air around you and the warmth of his breath on your lips. He gasped, unreliable, when you touched his throat with shaking fingers. His skin was incredibly soft, and you feared leaving bruises with each pulse of your fingers. His lips moved, slowly, elusive, and you moved, too.
You kissed him and tasted hope.
Time had stopped around you. His fingers were tangled in your hair, pulling you closer. Your nose touched his cheek, his lips sucked a bruise on your jawbone. You closed your eyes and felt bitterness slipping between your teeth. He hesitated, then took off your shirt. You spread out like a chalk outline, waiting for his fingers to map you. You were ready. You were here. He was finally here.
You kissed him and tasted love.
You were wildly in love with him. His body made religion to yours as if you were a hymn and he was the tune playing along. His smile was never off, never half when you were around. You touched his lips, holy. You ached for him. You were wasted on him. These two were synonymous when his name was involved.
“It has always been you, sweetheart. You and you alone” he whispered with a delicate tone. He worshiped you.
“Can’t say the same, Sarge” you teased and his laugh echoed in the room.
He was sleeping next to you, hair messy, body relaxed. You watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, counting the beats in between. Dust settled in the air, and you watched it drizzling through the glimmer of white light that shined through the blinds. You wanted to reach out and touch him, but you stopped mid-movement. Instead, you touched him with your eyes. Cheeks, nose, collarbone, lips. The air around him tasted like summer. You wanted to drown in it. Your Bucky. Broken, beaten down, tormented, hopeful, strong, resilient, beautiful, and soft – yours.
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