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helloprettybb · 4 years

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swindler’s trick

Here’s a periodical fic set in 1870, five years after the Civil War and takes place in England. Inspired by Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudice, I tried to mimic the language but probably messed up. This is a Steve x stark!reader and Tony is Anthony because of the time period. Also, the reader is 20 and Steve is 31.

Summary: Steve Rogers needed to clear his head. Haunted from the war and his past relationship, Steve sets sail for England to reunite with an old friend and hopefully distract himself from his life in America. His distraction comes in the form of a beautiful young girl, who proves to be a worthy interest, but will she be enough to help Steve move on from his past?

Warning: poor attempt at victorian era vernacular, victorian standards, fake history, age gap

Word count- 10.6k

Stark’s manor is as ridiculous as the man himself. The large, four-story house resembles a castle with its multiple chimneys and towering peaks. The red roof is angled perfectly to deflect the normally gusty winds. Luckily for Steve, his arrival was met with a slight breeze and shining sun; a complete juxtaposition to the harshness of early Spring.

Nevertheless, Steve isn’t the least surprised as he steps into the extravagant manor. If Steve thought the stone exterior was showy, then the interior was just unnecessarily grand. There were two large staircases that each met on the beautiful marble floors. Steve looks up and sees an intricate chandelier with crystals placed to look like falling rain.

Steve was so taken aback by the architecture that he didn’t notice the man standing at the door. He looks to be in his mid to late 50′s, with gray, balding hair. He stands tall and Steve assumes he’s the butler.

“Hello, sir. My name is Steve Rogers. I sent a letter saying I’d...” Steve tries to explain, but the man cuts him off.

“Ah, Mr. Rogers. Anthony said he’d be expecting you. You can wait in the parlor.” the butler promptly says and walks away. Still caught off guard, Steve doesn’t notice the butler walk away until he’s at lease twelve paces away. Steve looks around confusedly, wondering where the hell the parlor is.

He wanders down a couple hallways and finally comes across what looks like a parlor. There are two single couches with a long, two-person couch in the middle. In the corner, there’s a grand piano that hardly looks touched. Above the stone fireplace, there’s a portrait of Anthony as a child and who Steve assumes are his parents. His father looks like a much sterner version of him and his mother holds a slight resemblance to him. Steve takes a seat in one of the chairs.

It feels like hours until Steve hears his name being called. He practically jumps to his feet and stands at attention. Then he looks and realizes it’s just Anthony. “At ease, soldier.” he jokes and Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’s been a long time, Stark.” he replies and walks over to shake Anthony’s hand. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise.” Anthony replies, a genuine smile gracing his face. He gestures to the chairs and says, “Let’s sit.” Anthony takes the seat closer to the entryway while Steve takes the other. “Tea?”

“No, thank you.” Steve responds.

“It’s good to see you, Steven.” Anthony starts. It’s hard to believe they started as tentative allies and are now the closest of friends. Throughout the war, they had their differences, especially since Steve was a captain and Anthony was his First Lieutenant. But when the Civil War was coming to a close and the Union began steadily beating the Confederacy, the two men began to see eye to eye and became the strongest of friends. It saddened Steve when Anthony returned to England, but at least he had Margaret, or so he thought.

Steve replies, “Likewise, Anthony. I see you’re getting on well.”

“My wife would have to disagree. I’ve been in the workroom so often, she’s threatened to board the door shut.” Anthony jokes.

“Well either way, you seem perfectly adjusted.” Steve comments.

“Perfection is relative, old friend. You’ll understand when you find it.” Anthony advises wisely and as if on cue, an angel walks through the doorway. Well, not literally, but you are the closest thing to a saint on earth.

With your smooth hands and polished nails, you don’t look like a servant, but for your status, you dressed rather simply. As opposed to a large, decorated dress, you donned a dark, modest gown. You dressed closer to a middle-class maiden than a noblewoman, yet Steve took note that no outfit could diminish your beauty. Instead of the intricate up-dos, he’s seen many high-class women wear, you have your hair down and pulled back.

Anthony notices your entrance and greets, “Y/n, dear!”

Steve knew Anthony favored beautiful women, but he did not expect for him to marry someone so young. Steve’s seen his fair share of older men and young partners, but he didn’t think Anthony would be that kind of man.

Strolling up to Anthony, you greet him lovingly by placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Turning to Steve, you acknowledge politely, “Hello, sir. To what name shall I call you?” The moment you address him, Steve forgets every word in the English language. His mouth runs dry and he starts to regret denying Anthony’s tea offer.

Your stunning beauty and air of confidence fluster Steve and he manages to stutter out, “I- I am Captain America Rogers. I mean, Steve Rogers.” Attempting to recover, he clarifies, “I’m from America and I served as a Captain in the Army.”

You laugh lightly and Steve could have sworn an angel acquired its wings. “Well, Captain America. I appreciate the background information, but I figured from your accent that you were not from here.” you quip.

Anthony glares as you and gently scolds, “He is an old friend, y/n. Please be nice.”

You smile softly and tell him, “Oh papa, I hold no malice. It was a simple jest.” You turn to him and say, “But if any offense was taken, I do apologize. I’m aware that my tongue can be quite scathing.”

Steve realizes that Anthony is your father. He feels foolish and a little disgusted at his previous notion. But now that he knows, he can see the resemblance. Not particularly in appearance, but in attitude. You both carry yourselves in the same charming, self-assured way, like you’re the smartest people in the room.

“No need to apologize, miss. I can handle a sharp tongue,” Steve’s formal tone dropping relatively quickly. Your eyebrow quirks and a small smile plays at your lips.

If you were caught off guard, you didn’t show it as you quickly respond, “Good, but do not worry. I can soften my tongue if the situation requires it.” Anthony shoots you another look, but you pay no attention, keeping your eyes on the American. Steve feels your eyes bear into his, but he can not break your gaze. His heart flutters for the first time in what felt like forever.

Anthony clears his throat to break the growing tension. “Y/n, didn’t you say that Miss Natasha was taking you into town?” You turn to your father and smile.

“Why, thank you, father. If it weren’t for your keen memory, I would have gotten a lashing!” you kiss his cheek and walk over to Steve. “I apologize that our meeting had been cut short. I do hope we see each other again,” You kiss him on the cheek too and Steve prays that his face doesn’t burn on the spot.

His eyes follow you as you walk out of the parlor and out the door. “If you wish to court my daughter, all you have to do is ask,” Anthony states in an unamused tone.

Steve’s eyes snap back to the older man and he quickly explains, “Oh no, that is not my intent, Anthony. Besides, she’s your daughter.”

Anthony scoffs and replies, “She’s of marrying age and can do as she pleases. My only request is that you warn me.” Steve tries to counter him, but Anthony stands. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish.” He gestures to the man at the door and says, “Mr. Jarvis will show you to your room.” With that, Anthony leaves Steve alone with Mr. Jarvis.

Steve quickly learns the routine of Stark’s manor. Without Anthony’s wife, Pepper, and their daughter, Morgan, you and your father mostly kept to yourselves. Anthony stays in his workroom downstairs and would remain for hours on end, only appearing upstairs for meals.

You spend most of your time in the library and occasionally walk the grounds. Steve doesn’t know what restrains him from joining you on your walks, especially since you granted him an invitation during his first dinner.

Instead, he opted to observe you. He’s learned a great deal over the past few days. You chose to wear plain dresses and favored colors on the darker end of the spectrum. You and your father enjoyed battles of wit during meals with most occasions ending in a draw. You were very curious, or at least, toward Steve. You asked him a multitude of questions and even though Steve was happy to answer, Anthony shot your line of questioning down with a quick glare.

You read often, usually books on philosophy and tales of heroism over religion and spirituality. When you read, your lips would get caught between your teeth and you’d occasionally mouth some of the words. Steve could tell when you disagreed with a passage because your smooth forehead would slowly wrinkle as your eyebrows furrowed. Besides meals, the library was the only time Steve would spend with you. But unlike dinner, the two of you would sit in silence, just basking in each other’s company.

Nearly a week into his stay, Steve, out of stupidity or bravery, decides to join you on a walk. When you see him at the doorway, you remark, “Captain America! To what do I owe the pleasure.”

“I decided to take you up on your offer. I hope I am not too late being as it was last week,” he remarks cheekily.

You smile happily, “Oh, do not worry about that, sir. Besides, your invitation was set to expire tomorrow.”

“That’s good news, but I must ask, will that cursed nickname be going away any time soon?” he jokingly asked.

Smiling, you reply, “No, it will not.” Stepping out of the manor, you question, “Shall we go?” Steve nods steps out, moving to your left side.

You start your usual walk around the grounds. The sun beams down on your face making your skin almost glow. Steve’s never been this close and he can see every detail on your face. If he thought you were beautiful from afar, he doesn’t know what to think now.

“How long are you staying here?” you ask, turning to Steve for the first time.

He sighs and absentmindedly replies, “I don’t know, actually.” His answer causes your head to tilt and brow furrow slightly so he reassures, “Don’t fret. While Anthony has granted me an eternal stay, I shall leave before the year ends.”

You shake your head lightly and explain, “Oh, I don’t worry, Captain America. I’m just curious as to why you’re uncertain.” Steve averts his eyes, unable to meet your intense, innocent ones. You seem to read his nervous body language so you change the topic.

“We don’t get visitors very often,” you comment. Steve relaxes a little and you add, “All I know is that you’re an old friend of my father’s.”

He answers the unspoken question by saying, “He was my first lieutenant in the Civil War.”

“Ah, I remember him telling of his time in America,” you remark. Steve’s eyes return to yours. He can see the excitement and eagerness as you ask, “What is it like? America?”

Steve doesn’t know where to begin. From the bustling city life to the beautiful countryside, America is a diverse place. But then the memories come back and Steve hopes you can’t read the flash of sadness that spreads across his face.

“Well, it is very beautiful,” Steve says simply. He can tell by your excited expression that you crave more, so he adds, “In some places, there are hills as far as the eye can see. There are also forests so dense that you cannot get through without a map.”

You seem satisfied with his answer and dreamily add, “I wish I could visit, but father forbids me from going beyond the moors.”

Steve senses your disappointment and tries to cheer you up, “The moors aren’t too bad, Miss y/n.” He looks around at the scenery, searching for something to point out. He stops by the garden and hastily proposes, “The flowers are quite beautiful if you ask me.”

You let out a small laugh at his half-hearted attempt and concede, “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” You sigh a little sadly, remarking, “But it gets quite lonely up here.”

Steve couldn’t control his thought process and lost even more control of his mouth as he asks, “I hope I do not come across as rude when I ask why you have not wed yet.”

He already regrets his intrusion, but luckily, you don’t seem offended. “It isn’t rude, Captain America.” With that, he can see that you are in a joking mood. “Men want a woman with open ears and a closed mouth. Seeing as I have neither, men do not try and pursue me.”

You smile back at him, but unlike your usual smile, it doesn’t reach your eyes. Steve decides not to pry and comments, “While I do agree your mouth is rather liberal, I’d have to disagree about your ears.”

Your smile finally reaches your eyes again and you laugh, “Tell my father that.”

“Well, Anthony never was the most patient listener.” Steve states to which you clearly agree, if your loud and genuine laugh had anything to say about it.

Once your laughter dies down, you turn the subject to him, “And what about you?”

“What about me?” Steve questions, raising an eyebrow.

“No wife? Surely a military man such as yourself would have a mistress at least,” you comment curiously. Looking down, Steve smiles and shakes his head.

“Women were mostly found in the tents of upper-class men,” Steve replies ambiguously. He feared that if he dug too deep, it’d only dredge up his past. Maybe he was imagining it, but your knowing look made Steve think you understood his vagueness.

The two of you continued your walk in peaceful silence. You broke the silence by asking, “You mentioned that women were reserved for upper-class men,” Steve nods in confirmation and you continue, “Am I to assume you are not of high status?”

Steve explains, “I was baseborn. In the Army, I quickly rose through the ranks which in turn, granted me a higher status.”

Steve fears your impending judgment, but instead, you go quiet and confess, “I was baseborn, too,” You avert your eyes as if it were a terrible secret.

“How so?” Steve questions, now completely intrigued. When you saw he only held curiosity, you returned to your relaxed state.

“My mother was a village girl. Father had an affair and when grandfather found out, he became furious. Father was forbidden from seeing my mother, but little did he know, that he impregnated her on their final tryst.” you tell, searching for any disgust in Steve’s eye.

Steve tilts his head curiously and asks, “Is that why Anthony came to America?”

You smile at his interest and reply, “Partially. He always wanted to leave, but the death of his parents pushed over them edge. He was only seventeen and didn’t think he could run the business himself. He would have stayed in America if it weren’t for Obadiah Stane.”

“Who?” Steve questions.

“He was the second in line for the company. My father didn’t just leave the house behind, but the business. Father secretly suspects Stane killed his parents, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“Where’s Mr. Stane now?” Steve asks.

“He’s in prison for embezzling money.” you reply.

“When Father received word that Stane’s business practices were less than humane, he had to come back. Being the sole heir, father was able to reclaim his title as lord of the house and owner of the company.”

“How did he find you?”

“With his father gone, he decided to reunite with his former love, but when he discovered her dead and me in her place...” You look off to the distance as if you’re trying to find the right wording, “He was surprised, to say the least.”

Lightening up, you add, “Luckily, he met Pepper shortly after and they wed quickly. Then, they had Morgan and they lived happily ever after,” you end a little sarcastically.

Steve hums in understanding and asks, “Surely, it was difficult for you to adjust to life here.”

“It still is. I’ve lived at the manor for nearly five years and I still forget frivolous things like which spoon is which.” Steve laughs heartily in agreement and you join in at a quieter tone.

“It is rather odd, isn’t it? A spoon is a spoon, what difference does it make!” he exclaims. This makes you burst into a very unladylike laugh, but you don’t care and neither does Steve. For once, it feels like you both met someone who understands you.

After the first walk around the moors, Steve has joined you on every other one since. Your topics ranged from philosophy to politics. Although he never cared about politics, Steve found himself captivated by your ideas. It saddens him a little that the world may never experience your brilliant mind.

To Anthony’s delight or dismay, you wordlessly invited Steve to your usual dinner banter. Although he is constantly left speechless and outwitted, Steve enjoys being talked into a corner. He loves the small smile and look in your eyes when you know that you have someone beat intellectually.

Tonight’s discussion had something to do with Descartes. Steve got lost the minute you brought up dualism and metaphysics. You’re in the middle of explaining how mental phenomena are non-physical when Anthony interrupts, “Mr. Rumlow will be joining us this Easter.” Your teasing smile drops and is replaced by a scarily sober expression.

Through gritted teeth, you ask, “Why?” Reading your body language, Steve can tell there’s something more beneath the surface.

“It’s business, dear.” Tony sighs exasperatedly. Steve can’t tell if he’s annoyed with you, the mysterious Mr. Rumlow, or both.

“And for how long?” You start cutting your food more aggressively than before.

“He failed to mention it, but I presume a quite long time,” Anthony responds and you scowl.

“May I be excused? I feel rather ill,” you announce but leave before waiting for a response. Steve feels an urge to follow you but is stopped in his place when his friend speaks.

“Do not mind her. She sees Rumlow as more of a fiend than a man,” Anthony says absentmindedly once you leave the room.

Trying to hold back any snark, Steve comments, “I could see that,” Anthony doesn’t reply, but from his small smirk, Steve knows that his sarcasm bled through.

They finish their dinner in silence. Once his plate is empty, Anthony gets up and leaves without saying a word. Steve glances at your mostly full plate and figures you must be hungry. Eating one last bite, he scoops up your plate and walks up the steps to your room.

After a few faint knocks, you open the door. You still hold the look of contempt that you had at dinner, but at the sight of Steve or the food, you brighten up. “Thank you, Steve. I am absolutely famished, but I did not want to face my father again.”

You move away from the doorway and subtly invite him in. He hands you the plate and you sit on the edge of your bed. Steve pulls the chair from under your desk and turns to face you. While you eat, he asks, “In fear of angering you more, may I ask why Rumlow’s name caused such trouble?”

You set your plate down and tell Steve sincerely, “Our families have been business partners for decades. I don’t think father is too fond of him either, but he has to keep acquaintance with him.”

Taking another bite, you continue, “His wife died years ago, and ever since, he’s looked for a wife in yours truly.”

“I take it he doesn’t handle rejection very well?” Steve suggests. For the first time since your sudden exit, you smile.

“No, he does not. Don’t get me wrong; rejection can be delightful, but it can only happen so many times before it becomes tedious,” you respond, lightening up even more. Steve gives a short laugh and gets up to leave so you can finish your meal. You ask quietly, “Can you stay?” Even adding, “Please?” Steve sits back down wordlessly and keeps you company.

“Y/n!” the little girl squealed as she ran from her mother and to you. Picking her up off her feet, you wrap Morgan into a hug.

“How was the visit to your grandmother’s?” you ask happily. Steve hasn’t seen you this genuinely happy and giddy. He can see that you care about Morgan deeply. Today, you chose a lighter-colored dress with more embellishments and a larger petticoat than usual. Steve assumed it was Morgan’s favorite color since your dress matched the ribbon in her hair.

When you see Pepper approaching, you set Morgan down and greet your step-mother. “Pepper! We have missed you.” you exclaim, hugging her more reservedly.

“Please tell me that Anthony spent most of his time outside the workroom,” Pepper jokingly begs, even though she probably knows the answer.

You laugh politely and reply, “I would, but you know I mustn't lie, step-mother.”

Pulling away from you, Pepper turns to Steve and asks, “You must be Captain Rogers. Anthony wrote that you were staying with us.” She plants two light kisses on each of Steve’s cheeks.

He’s about to tell her to call him by his first name when you speak up, “Please, step-mother, he goes by Captain America.” He looks at you and sees the mischief in your eyes.

Pepper glances at Steve curiously and he explains, “It is a wretched nickname she has given me.” Pepper nods understandingly, knowing her step-daughter’s quirks.

Morgan asks impulsively, “Are you courting my sister?” Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and Y/n bursts out laughing, dropping any attempt at civility.

Pepper can’t decide who to scold first, so she chastises, “Morgan, dear! We do not ask people questions like that,” Pepper tells Steve, “I do apologize, Captain. She is not even five years old.”

“No need, Mrs. Stark.” Steve dismisses with a wave of his hand.

You speak up, “Besides,” Crouching down to Morgan’s level, you whisper something to her. Steve strains his ear to listen, but can’t make out a single word. Pepper gives you a look when you stand back up.

Instead of prying, Pepper decides, “Let’s get inside before you corrupt Morgan any further.”

“Oh, do not worry, dear step-mother. There will be plenty of time for that,” you say cheerily. Morgan and Pepper stroll inside while Jarvis brings their bags inside. When the door closes, you tell Steve, “I assume you want to know what I whispered in Morgan’s ear.”

“The thought did cross my mind,” Steve jokes back. You smile and move toward him. Going on the tips of your toes to be near his height, you look like you’re about to spill.

Pressing your lips to the shell of his ear, you whisper, “It’s a secret between sisters, Captain.” Moving back to the bottoms of your feet, you turn toward the door, but not before giving him a cheeky wink. Oh no, Steve Rogers is falling in love.

Morgan and Pepper’s return seemed to lift your spirits enough to distract you from Rumlow’s impending arrival. You squeezed time with Morgan into your schedule, consequently lessening the time you and Steve spent alone. He didn’t mind, after all, she is your sister, but Steve couldn’t help but feel a little envious.

Luckily, Morgan has grown quite fond of him. She includes him with as often as she can. Today’s activity is a tea party.

“Miss y/n, will you pour the tea?” Morgan asks, imitating her mother’s posh accent and miserably failing. You smile and rise from your seat.

“Anything for you, duchess,” you respond. Picking up the teapot, you walk around the table.

Moving to fill Morgan’s teacup first, you begin to pour when she holds up a hand and commands, “Stop, please.” You and Steve struggle to contain your laughter as Morgan, with her pinkie in the air, lifts the cup to her mouth.

She holds back from making a face and announces, “Delicious!”

“Why thank you, duchess.” You walk over to Steve and pour tea into his cup. You’re so close that Steve catches a whiff of your perfume. The closeness makes it hard for him to concentrate. He knows you can feel him looking, but don’t say anything, sending him a small, cheeky smile.

You pour your own cup of tea and before you could raise your cup, the clock on the wall chimes loudly. Turning to your sister, you question, “Duchess Morgan, don’t you have studies to attend to?”

Morgan pouts and replies, “I don’t need them.” You laugh heartily and crouch next to her.

You reason with her, “Morgan, your studies are very important. You don’t want me to become smarter than you, do you?” She concedes and hops off her chair before running out of the room.

Watching her leave to make sure she doesn’t run back, you stand up and sit back in your chair. You take a sip of tea and notice Steve is looking at you dotingly. “What?” you ask, laughing into your cup.

“Nothing, it’s just that you’re a really good sister.” Steve comments. You scoff lightly at his compliment.

“Thank you, Steve. But it’s not difficult when she’s such a good kid,” you reply and Steve nods in agreement. For some reason, Steve can’t help but imagine you as a mother. You’d probably read to them before bed and when you were done, you’d go to him. The two of you would share a bed like husband and wife and you’d never have to worry about pompous suitors or ridiculous social expectations. He’d hold you in his arms like he yearned to do the moment you met.

Steve’s thoughts are interrupted when he hears cursing at the other end of the table. He looks up and sees your skirt covered in tea. “Are you alright?” Steve asks.

You laugh out of embarrassment and reply, “Yes, I just spilled tea all over my skirt. Can you hand me the cloth over there?” You point to the towel near him and Steve grabs it. Instead of handing it to you, he squats in front of you and dabs your skirt clean. If you had any protests, you didn’t say them as you sat patiently and let him dab your lap.

Steve continues to clean in silence when you interrupt absentmindedly, “You know, Morgan is one of the few people who don’t look down on me.” Steve’s hand stops and he looks up at you. You’re looking away from him and you have a distant look on your face.

“Why is that?” Steve asks, causing you to laugh lightly.

“Well, how couldn’t they? I’m a peasant girl born out of wedlock.” you roll your eyes, but Steve could see some hurt behind them. He places the towel on the floor and moves his hand so it’s covering yours, which are resting on your abdomen. You don’t retreat, which surprises Steve.

The intimate moment is broken up by Mr. Jarvis walking into the room and announcing, “Miss Stark, your father requests your presence.”

It’s a fair, sunny day so after days of begging from Morgan, Anthony finally conceded and decided that the whole family will attend the Spring Awakening Fair. Stepping onto the grounds, you look ethereal in your light, flowy dress.

“Let’s go before father buys Morgan the whole fair,” you announce, grabbing Steve’s hand without any hesitation. Steve feels his heart do a flip before he follows you away from Pepper, Anthony, and Morgan. Strolling around, you light up when you see a medium’s booth.

Raising an eyebrow, Steve asks skeptically, “You believe in psychics?”

“Nope,” you reply happily and before Steve could process your answer, you pull Steve’s hand and half-drag Steve to the booth.

“Hello, miss. Would you and your betrothed like to have your auras read?” the medium asks. Before Steve could correct her, you interject.

“Yes, please.” You sit down and Steve follows suit.

“Hold each other’s hands and stare into each other’s eyes.” the medium instructs. Steve grabs your other hand and turns to face you. He’s never allowed himself to look at you for so long, but now that he’s technically supposed to, he gives himself a pass just this once. Steve takes in every detail of your face so that he can remember every feature when he goes to sleep. Maybe if he collects the perfect picture, you will invade his dreams more often.

“I’m sensing...” the medium starts and Steve could see you struggling to hold back laughter. Luckily, the woman’s eyes are closed as she continues, “You miss, have an indigo aura. Yes, yes. You are a kind and intuitive person, who values intelligence and love. You seek peace in your life and while you’re a little vulnerable, your partner can help with that.”

Steve didn’t believe in psychics, but that was a pretty accurate assertion. So that the psychic can’t hear, Steve mouths, “That was quite accurate, was it not?” You scrunch your nose and shake your head. Before you could mouth back, the medium continues.

“You sir, have a blue aura. I see...” the medium says, “Mostly royal blue, with hints of dark blue. You are open-minded and generous, but the hints of dark blue show that you are scared.” You tilt your head in confusion and Steve shrugs.

“Something has happened in your life to cause distrust and a need to control. Perhaps your partner could help clear the dark blue from your aura. You two have very compatible auras. Sometimes, you miss, will feel overwhelmed, but your partner’s calming aura shows that he will be able to soothe you. I expect the two of you to have a long and loving relationship.” the medium finishes and opens her eyes.

You notice that she opened her eyes so you nod enthusiastically and say, “Thank you! That was very eye-opening.” You drop a few coins into the jar and walk away from the booth.

Once you are out of ear-shot, Steve asks, “Do you believe it?”

“Hm?” you ask, initially confused, then you realize, “Oh, the medium? No, no.” you shake your head as if you’re trying to get rid of the notion itself. “The idea that auras follow us around is illogical.” Steve hummed in agreement, but if he squinted, he could almost see an indigo halo around your head.

“Is that y/n y/ln?” a voice says behind Steve. He turns and sees a young man. Steve wonders how he knows you but judging from the look on your face, you aren’t pleased to see him. The man approaches and you quickly don a fake smile.

“Aldrich Killian!” you announce overenthusiastically. “It’s been so long.” Aldrich pulls you into a hug that lingers too long in Steve’s opinion. He finally pulls away after what felt like hours.

“It really has. How are you?” the man asks. He’s small and fidgety like he’s scared of the mere existence of you.

“I am amazing. May I remind you my surname is Stark?” you ask teasingly, but Steve can see the tension beneath your eyes.

“Yes, how could I forget! You became your father’s charity case.” Killian replies, smile bright as before, but his words still cut sharply.

The insult doesn’t phase you as you match his tone, “Well I’d rather be his charity case than be stuck with the likes of you.”

Aldrich doesn’t respond and instead turns to Steve. He asks, “And who is this?”

“Captain Steven Rogers.” he introduces, maintaining his stoicism. Aldrich grabs Steve’s hand with both hands and shakes it aggressively.

“It is great to meet you, sir.” Aldrich states. After a few violent shakes, he finally releases Steve’s hand.

He apologizes, “I’m sorry for taking up your time, y/n.”

He starts to walk away and you call, “Hey, Killian!” He turns back around and you drop your smile. “Please give Steven’s watch and my necklace back.” Steve looks down at his wrist and realizes that his watch really is gone. Aldrich comes back and Steve watches as Aldrich’s sheepish act disappears and is replaced by contempt. You hold out your hand and Killian drops the jewelry into your palm.

“See you’ve taken on the family business,” you taunt, “How is your father, by the way?” Aldrich scowls and Steve assumes that whatever happened isn’t good. Your hand on Steve’s wrist snaps him back to attention. You hold his wrist up so you can put his watch back on.

“You’ve gotten better, Killian. But your hugs still linger too long and you shake men’s hands too fiercely.” you comment absentmindedly as you clasp Steve’s watch around his wrist.

“Oh, y/n. I only linger that long for you,” Aldrich comments creepily. Steve sees your smile falter slightly before returning, a little smaller.

“Whatever you thought we had simply didn’t exist.” You grab Steve’s arm tightly and tell Killian, “We better head back to the manor,” You turn around to leave Aldrich alone before he gets one final word in.

Killian yells behind your back, “You can put on a fancy dress and expensive jewelry, but you’ll always be one of us.”

You hand Steve your necklace and ask, “Can you put this on for me?” Steve nods and you turn your back to him. He finds it harder than it should be to clasp the necklace, but the intense smell of your perfume is slowly overwhelming his senses.

To ground himself, Steve asks, “How did you know he stole from us?”

“It’s a common swindler’s trick.” you state. You feel the chain drop onto your neck and you turn to face Steve. You continue, “You greet the person enthusiastically to give yourself time to steal. While you’re stealing, you distract them with flattery and small talk. They don’t even realize they were robbed and by the time they do, you’re far gone.”

Steve is stunned by your extensive knowledge and bluntly says, “You know a lot about that.”

You laugh and admit, “Let’s just say, I have some experience.” You, a thief? He could just imagine a younger you going around picking pockets, distracting people with your effortless charm.

Steve furrows his brows and asks, “Were you like him?”

“Oh, heavens no. At least, not that bad. I knew who to steal from who not to.”

“And who deserved theft?” Steve asks, not out of judgment but actual curiosity.

“The usual. Rich arseholes who treated anyone of a lower socioeconomic status like dirt.” you answer casually.

“So you were a Robin Hood?” Steve jokes.

“Sure, but only for a short while. When my grandmother found out, she was furious and banned me from meeting Killian. In hindsight, that was one of the best decisions she’s ever made, but at the time, I was heartbroken.” you explain.

“What made you change your mind about him?” Steve questions.

“I saw the vile ways he treated women he sought after.” you answer simply. There is probably more to that response, but Steve decides he shouldn’t pry.

Instead, he nods and holds his arm out. “Come on, let’s trick some more psychics.” You smile and grab his arm.

“Y/n, dear. Rumlow will be here any minute. Are you ready?” Anthony calls upstairs. Steve’s standing beside him at the bottom of the stairs. The days after the fair had been amazing. You and Steve spent incalculable amounts of time together. He was surprised that no one mentioned it since you aren’t officially courting. Your spirits were extremely high, until this morning when you remembered who was arriving.

“Yes, father. Be down soon.” you respond back. Anthony huffs exasperatedly and goes toward the parlor, leaving Steve alone at the base of the stairs. He hears shuffling and a couple thumps upstairs, before you yell, “Okay, I’m ready.” he turns and his breath is taken away.

Steve Rogers is a simple man. He’s straightforward, hard-working, and sharp. These traits helped him through school and shot him up the ranks in the Army. He became one of the youngest captains in the Union army. He battled Confederates, god damn it!

But... you’re so beautiful. Sauntering down the stairs, you look like an angel coming down from heaven. Steve takes in your appearance. Your dress is a deep green color that matches the jeweled choker around your neck. The large skirt is a stark contrast to your usual demure day dresses and Steve’ realized yet again that your beauty is ever-present. No matter your wardrobe, the essence of you shines through. Your hair is higher than normal, with elegant curls resting on your shoulders. The chandelier above your head only adds to the natural glow of your aura. He could hear the light tapping of your heels on the grand marble stairs until you took your final step before him.

“Hi,” you greet meekly as if you’re the one that’s intimidated.

Steve, in his rather plain-looking dress clothes, replies, “Hi,” Steve’s eyes linger a little longer than seems appropriate, but you don’t appear to mind, in fact, doing the same thing in return. Your silent exchange is broken by the sound of horses outside.

“Sir, Mr. Rumlow is here.” Jarvis calls, alerting your father who strolls in from the parlor. Steve catches a look of disgust grace your face before it quickly changes into a wide, fake smile when the door opens.

“Mr. Rumlow.” Antony greets, holding out his hand.

“Mr. Stark.” Rumlow shakes his hand in return. As they exchange pleasantries, Steve looks the man up and down. He looks to be about Steve’s age, maybe a tad older. He has harsh, dark features that only further Steve’s already tainted view of the man.

“And who must this be?” Rumlow asks, turning to Steve.

“Captain Steven Rogers,” he responds and Steve could’ve sworn he heard you chuckle quietly after using his rank. Maybe that was low of him, but he was still quite wary of Mr. Rumlow.

“Pleasure to meet you.” The exchange is short before the man turns to you. Almost like a wolf who’s spotted his prey, Rumlow’s eyes darken and his slightly genial smile resembles more of a snarl.

“Miss Stark. Why, you look more and more beautiful every time I see you.” Rumlow compliments. You give a quick curtsy, smile dropping ever so slightly. Steve’s hands ball into a fist quickly before he forces himself to relax his hand. “I am surprised a man hasn’t made a bride of you yet.” Steve had to will his feet to stay or else the dinner party would have ended embarrassingly quick.

“Well, a woman’s role isn’t just to marry, is it?” you reply, still holding that bright, wide smile. Rumlow laughs as if you said a joke, but Steve knows the sincerity behind your words. His disgusting laugh further cements Steve’s idea that Rumlow is not a good man.

Anthony, seeming to sense the burgeoning tension, announces, “Dinner will be ready shortly. Shall we?” Everyone follows him into the dining room, with Rumlow charging forward before anyone even had the chance to move.

Entering the dining room, Steve sees that Rumlow has already taken the spot beside Anthony. Steve sits across from Rumlow and you sit beside him. After the wine is poured, Steve grabs his chalice and takes a slow sip. He watches as Rumlow takes one long swig before requesting more. You and Steve share a look of both amusement and concern, knowing where the night is headed.

Anthony and Rumlow start to talk business so to save yourself from boredom, you talk to Steve. “I wish Morgan were here.”

“Yes, if it weren’t for her cursed bedtime.” Steve replies jokingly to test what mood you are in. You roll your eyes, signaling to Steve that you’re at least somewhat yourself.

“I know Pepper isn’t much of an admirer of Rumlow either, but it’s a shame that she was granted an invitation out of this.” you admit a little glumly.

“Well fear not, Y/n. You still have me.” Steve encourages and you shoot a smile back. You and Steve continue to talk quietly until your conversation is intruded by plates being placed in front of the two of you.

Rumlow’s lack of table manners is extremely apparent as he gorges on the food. You stifle a laugh by lifting your napkin to your lips, but Steve catches you and bites his lip to contain his laughter. Dinner is fairly uneventful, while Anthony and Rumlow continue to talk and you and Steve share stories. It’s almost as if the two of you are alone on a date until you’re interrupted by your father.

“Y/n, after dessert, would you mind showing Mr. Rumlow around the manor?” Anthony tells, more of a command than a request.

Attempting to keep your tone light, you reply, “But father, hasn’t he been here before. I’m sure the manor hasn’t changed too drastically since he’s been here last.”

Before Anthony could respond, Rumlow interrupts, “Oh but Miss Y/n. I would love to refresh my mind on all the beauties this place has to offer.” Something about his wording and his intense gaze toward you angered Steve and he felt his grip tighten around his fork.

Pretending to give in and not still be utterly repulsed by the idea, you concede, “Well, okay. I look forward to it.” Rumlow nods and continues down to his dinner plate. Steve looks over at you, but your gaze is down. Steve decides to leave it alone when he feels a soft hand reach for his own. You still aren’t looking over at him, but your brow is furrowed slightly as you eat. Steve encompasses your hand in his and it appears to ease the tension slightly.

Steve doesn’t let go of your hand for the rest of eating, opting to hold his silverware with his left hand instead. The other men don’t appear to notice, as Rumlow’s mind is only on the excursion he was promised. Sadly, after dessert is taken away, Steve has to release your hand as you and Rumlow leave the dining room.

Watching you leave, Steve gets an uneasy feeling and quietly excuses himself before walking out. He tries outside first and it doesn’t take long before he’s alerted of your presence.

“Get your hands off me you loathly poltroon!” Steve hears you yell. He turns the corner and sees Rumlow grasping your wrist tightly with no intent to let go. Without thinking, Steve runs toward you and shoves Rumlow away.

“You disgusting rapscallion! Is that how you treat a lady?” Steve bellows angrily and punches Rumlow in the face. Turning to you, he softens instantly and questions, “Are you okay, Y/n?”

You break your disgusted look at Rumlow and tell Steve, “Yes, let’s just please leave.” Steve ushers you away. You don’t say anything as you stomp towards the gazebo.

Steve could feel the anger emanating from your body. For the second time, he asks, “Are you sure you are okay? Because that man is-”

“Do you know why filthy men like Rumlow seek me out?” you interrupt angrily. Steve’s never seen you so mad, but now he knows to never cross you.

Continuing, you shout, “It’s not for my brains or my character, but my dowry. To them, I’m just a prize to be won! Did you know that my estate is worth a small country? But since I’m a woman, all of my fortune will be a man’s, and every single one I have come across thinks it will be them.”

Once you get that off your chest, you start to settle down. Sitting down on a bench, you hang your head a little and state, “All anyone sees is an inheritance with a pretty face.”

Not knowing what to say, Steve removes his jacket and sits beside you on the bench. Your once intricate up-do is falling around your face, which is good in Steve’s opinion since he never liked that hairstyle in the first place. The bottom of your skirt is muddy from walking through the grass. “I’m sorry.” Steve meekly apologizes while handing you his jacket. You thank him quietly and throw it around your shoulders.

Removing your shoes spitefully, you scoff, “It’s not your fault all upper-class men are greedy little pricks that only care about their appearances.” Steve lets out a noise, resembling a snort more than a laugh. He knew that far too well from his time in the Army. Even though the higher rank came with privileges, Steve occasionally wished he was still a private, realizing there were too many poncy majors and captains.

“If it’s any consolation, I think there’s a lot more to you than your money.” He hears you sniffle, but your eye line remains down.

“Thank you, Steve.” you reply, eyes still down and watery. Your head hangs down in dejection.

Sensing your sadness, Steve asks, “Would you like to hear why I actually came to England?” Your eyes move up to his and you sit up straight, nodding quietly. Steve sighs and begins his story, “During the war, I met a woman named Margaret Carter. We had a brief courtship and married quickly, but since I was mostly in battle, we hardly saw each other.”

Steve sees that you’re actively listening so he continues, “I thought I had met my soulmate, but I was young. A fool, really.” Steve looked down, finding it difficult to continue the story.

He clears his throat and tells, “Marriage would not be easy and I knew that. But I did not predict its difficulty until I truly experienced it.”

“Did you fight?” you ask quietly, breaking your silence.

“No, but that would have been preferable. War affects everyone differently, y/n. You have to understand that. I was withdrawn, avoidant and I- I just became a different man and...” Steve trails off, scared of your reaction.

You place your hand on his and assure, “I promise, Steven. Nothing you can say, could change the way I see you.” You’re listening intently, eyes wide with eagerness to hear his story.

“I was away very often. After the assassination of Lincoln, I was offered a position as head of security for the next president. She said it was okay, but...” Steve feels you hold his hand tighter, grounding him. “During my long bouts of absence, it was only natural that she found someone else. She continued her tryst for nearly two years before she informed me.”

“How did you react?” You ask quietly, your faint voice cutting through Steve’s foggy recollection.

“That’s the issue. I didn’t react much at all. I simply left and stayed with my close friend until the divorce settled. It was long and tiring, taking over two years. Nobody knew the true reason for the separation as we feared out tarnished reputations. Months later, I learned from an old friend that Peggy was to engaged to be married with that man. I knew I couldn’t be in the same place when they wed, so I left.” Steve stayed quiet and you followed suit for a couple moments.

“I’m sorry.” you apologize, like you were the problem. Sympathy etched onto your face and soft, delicate features turned down with sadness.

“It’s not your fault,” Steve reminded with a small smile to lighten the mood a bit. You bit your lip, drawing attention to them and reminding Steve just how much he yearns to kiss you.

“I know, but still. I don’t see how a man like you deserved such hardship.” you shed a tear and Steve is touched by your empathy toward him. Gently wiping the tear off your cheek, Steve boldly keeps his hand rested on your face. You don’t seem to mind, looking up at him through your slightly wet lashes.

“But if it weren’t for that trouble, I would have never met you.” As if the spirit of Cupid himself possessed Steve, he boldly confesses, “Darling, I would endure ten times the hardship if it meant I could meet you.” Steve felt a pang of fear, worried that he came on too strong and risked losing your friendship. But if the small gasp and softening of your eyes indicated anything, then you liked it. Now’s your chance, Steve. You look so sweet, so raw, so perfect.

Steve feels the atmosphere shift as he leans toward your face, his thumb softly brushing your lip. You mirror his body language and lean towards him too. As if the universe were pulling the two of you together, Steve could feel himself fall into your sweetness; your auras melding with each other. Steve is inches away from your lips when he hears the clanking of hooves in the distance and instantly, the magic dissipates.

The two of you break apart instantly as if nothing was about to happen. You smooth out your dress and clear your throat. Steve wants to stay. He really does, but he knows the kinds of rumors that could emerge if he’s alone with you any longer.

“We better go inside,” Steve suggests and you nod. Getting up, you leave the gazebo before him and he follows suit.

Much to Steve’s delight, Rumlow immediately left for home. After talking to an angry and frustrated Anthony, Steve walks up to his room. Walking up the stairs, he glances at your room and is almost tempted to go in, but he forces himself to turn the other way.

He can’t believe he almost kissed you. You were so close and your lips felt so smooth under his finger. Oh, how he wishes they were against his own. Steve wonders if he will ever have another chance or perhaps, you may try to forget it altogether. Steve feels like such a fool for letting himself fall so hard. But how couldn’t he when you’re just so... you.

Steve hears a knock on the door and answers, “Come in.” When he sees you step through, he stands to his feet. His jacket is slung around your right arm. You’ve changed into your nightdress which is covered by your robe to preserve your modesty. Still, Steve makes a point to keep his eyes on yours.

“Here’s your jacket.” you say meekly, still standing by the door. Steve walks over to grab it from you. His fingers brush against yours and he yearns to lace his in yours but refrains from doing so.

“You could have waited till morning to return it.” Steve states honestly, trying to not jump to conclusions as to why you came at such a late hour.

“I know,” you reply simply. Steve hangs the coat on the coat hanger beside you and closes the door, just in case anyone happens to walk by. You’re still standing as if you’re expecting something.

Steve stands before you, but you don’t retreat, instead, looking up at Steve. “Rumlow has left for town,” you inform him. He knows and you know that he does, but he assumes you only said that to break the palpable tension.

“Yes, I heard he sent for a carriage the moment he hit the ground,” Steve half-jokes. You let out a short laugh, one to show him you read the humor but it was enough to tell him you didn’t feel it. He can feel your uneasiness from the way your hands are fidgeting to the constant flickers of your gaze to the ground. Your usual confidence is replaced with insecurity and unsureness.

“Shall we talk about what was about to happen?” you question. Thank the heavens that you are the one who brought it up, for Steve doesn’t think he has the assuredness to do it himself.

“Yes, I suppose we should,” Steve remarks. He’s about a foot away from you, but he could feel himself yearn to move closer. “I hope I did not bring you discomfort. I simply had to ease the weight on my soul,”

You shake your head and respond, “No, Steven, it was welcome really. I just wish we weren’t interrupted.” Your candidness startles him slightly. While you’ve never been mistrustful, he’s never seen you this open.

“Those damn horses,” Steve says, lightness entering his voice. You smile the widest he’s seen you smile since Rumlow arrived.

“Yes, if it weren’t for those wretched creatures...” you drift off as if there is a thought in your mind that you’re too reserved to say out loud. Steve takes a step towards you and brings your hands up to his. You gladly take them and Steve feels your delicate fingers slip into his perfectly like they were always meant to be there.

“May I do this?” Steve asks, almost like he’s asking himself. You nod, biting the corner of your lip lightly. You look like you’re having an inner battle of sorts and before Steve could decipher the turmoil, he feels your hands grip his shirt and pull him towards you. Steve realizes just in time as you capture his lips with yours.

The kiss is desperate and heated, but not devoid of love and yearning. Steve feels like his whole life has led up to this and in a way it had. He moves his hands down towards your waist and pulls you flush to his body. You let out a startled gasp, but continue to kiss him as passionately as before. Your hands are still gripping his shirt harshly, but he couldn’t care less. He never liked this shirt very much. You pull away a little to catch your breath. Your cheeks are flushed and lips are a little plumper and Steve can’t stop the pride from swelling in his chest at the thought that it’s his doing.

“I apologize. That wasn’t very lady like,” you tell him breathily, smoothing your hands over his shirt. He may or may not appreciate the way your hands linger over his chest for a few extra seconds.

Steve smiles and says, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t really care.” He reconnects your lips with the same vigor as when you initiated it.

The next morning, Steve wakes in his bed alone. He wanted to let you stay the night, but he knew the uproar that would be caused if your lady’s maid found an empty bed. Walking down to breakfast, Steve sees that you’ve made it down first and have already begun eating. Looking up from your eggs benedict, you give him a small, knowing smile which he returns. Luckily your father doesn’t notice anything as he continues to read the paper.

Steve takes his usual seat across you as a full plate is set in front of him. He starts to eat, occasionally sneaking glances toward you. He can’t get the image of your speckled pink cheeks and wet lips out of his mind and he hopes he never does.

With about two-thirds of his plate empty, Steve hears a sharp knock on the door, followed by the door opening. He can make out Jarvis ask, “Mr. Parker?” before he hears footsteps come toward them while Jarvis continues, “Sir, they are dining at the moment, if you would wait-” Before Jarvis could finish his statement, a young man enters the dining room. He looks to be about your age, maybe a bit younger. Judging by the instant joy on your face, you know him well.

You immediately stand up and exclaim, “Peter!” Your fork almost clattering on the ground in the process. You have no hesitation when you run over to the boy, whose arms are open and inviting. Steve watches as Peter wraps you in an embrace. Guiltily, he feels a pang of jealousy when he sees you in the young man’s arms, but forces the feeling away.

“Y/n, I’ve missed you!” Peter replies happily and releases you. Steve’s displeasure must be apparent because he catches Anthony smirking beside him.

“I’ve missed you, too. When did you come in? How is Cambridge?” you ask excitedly. Your giddiness is apparent as you fire questions at Peter, but the boy doesn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, I’ve missed you too! I took the first train from Cambridge the moment break started,” Peter rambles happily, “As for school, it’s truly amazing, y/n. The classes are rigorous and I’ve met the smartest men.”

“None smarter than me, I hope.” you jest, and Peter laughs along. The two of you seem really close. Steve can’t help but wonder if there’s more beneath the surface. You said that no man was courting you, but maybe it’s because you were waiting.

“Of course not. I’ll never meet a person with more wit than you.” Peter compliments. Anthony clears his throat behind you and Peter turns to his mentor.

“Oh, except you, Mister Stark.” he tries to recover, but Anthony doesn’t buy it. Nonetheless, he hugs the boy reservedly, a stark contrast to your embrace. Steve, who only stood up out of courtesy, feels like a stranger witnessing a family reunion until the boy turns to him.

“Captain Rogers!” Peter exclaims, quickly walking over to Steve. He grasps his hand and gushes, “I am a huge admirer. Your siege of Fort Beauregard is simply inspiring.” He’s shaking Steve’s hand wildly and if it weren’t for the underlying feeling of jealousy, he’d find it endearing.

“Why, thank you.” Steve replies curtly, causing your eyes to flicker over to him. You raise an eyebrow, seemingly suspicious to Steve’s behavior, but Peter doesn’t appear to notice.

“So, where are you staying?” Anthony asks. Peter releases Steve’s hand and turns to his mentor.

The boy’s face goes red and he stammers, “I-I thought I could stay here. I apologize for not writing ahead. My excitement got the better of me and I figured that a surprise would be enjoyable, but I see how this could be abrupt and uncalled for and I understand if you wish to have me leave, but my aunt-” He’s caught off by Anthony’s laugh.

“I only jest, Peter. I forget about your testy nerves. Of course, you may stay.” Anthony assures as Peter’s chest falls in relief.

“Shall I show him to his room?” Jarvis asks, standing at the doorway.

“No need, I’m finished with breakfast. I will do it. Come, Peter.” Anthony beckons the boy, who immediately deserts his position in front of Steve and goes to the older man’s side in a matter of seconds. They leave and Jarvis follows behind them.

“You can stop clenching the tablecloth, Captain. Peter left.” you joke, turning your attention to Steve. He looks down at his hands and sees the white fabric bunched between his fingers.

“I wasn’t.” Steve responds meekly, sitting back down. Scraping his plate, he clears his throat and says, “So, um, Peter is a nice fellow.” You burst out laughing and walk over to Steve.

“Are you jealous?” you ask teasingly. Steve rolls his eyes to contain his annoyance at how right you are.

“No, I’m just curious about your relationship with him.” Steve says. It’s quite obvious that he’s full of it, but you have mercy on him and avoid further teasing.

“He was my best friend in the village. When father found me, I convinced him to help Peter with his education. He’s quite bright, but sometimes acts like a total dolt.” you explain. Steve eases a little at your explanation.

“So, you’ve never considered courting him?” Steve asks sheepishly and you laugh again.

“No, of course not! Besides, he’s engaged to Miss Jones.” you tell him. Steve fully relaxes into his seat. “Also...” you start, taking the seat next to Steve and turning to face him. “A different man has stolen my heart.”

“Oh, and who must that be?” Steve plays along.

“His name is Captain America,” you tell him and Steve gives you a pointed look, which you ignore. “He’s strong, smart, funny.”

“Is he handsome?” Steve turns slightly so that he can face you head-on.

“Devastatingly so,” you reply. Steve takes a quick glance around the room to see if you’re really alone before capturing your lips with his. The kiss is brief and sweet, unlike last night’s passionate affair, but it still affects his heart the same.

It’s a lazy day spent under the large oak tree. At mid-day, the weather has decided to give its mercy, holding back its usual treacherous winds and low temperatures that accompany spring.

Your head is resting on Steve’s lap as you read, your knees propped up and your book resting on your royal blue skirt. Steve strokes your hair gently, occasionally brushing over the loosely tied indigo ribbon. His navy jacket is discarded a few feet away from him and his white sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.

The two of you have announced your courtship to the family last week, although it has felt it’s gone on since Steve first arrived. You’ve stolen his heart, whether you intended to or not. Steve never thought he could be so smitten with a person, but how could he not be. Your charm and beauty grow tenfold every time he’s with you. And now that he knows you share the feeling, he has no hesitations in the showing of his affections.

“Come to America with me.” Steve says, speaking for the first time in a half-hour.

“Pardon?” you ask as if you can’t believe the words he just uttered. You sit up and face Steve. Closing your book, you move your full attention to him.

“Come to America.” Steve repeats. “I have some business I have to attend to and you’ve always said you wanted to go.”

“Yes, but Steve. What would people say if an unmarried man and woman went away together?” you ask, not caring yourself but knowing the weight of everyone’s judgment would be too great to bear.

“But we wouldn’t have to worry about that. Y/n, I have loved you since the moment we met and it would be an honor if you made me your husband.” Your jaw looks like it’s about to approach the floor, so he continues.

“We could build a house on the plot of land down the road so you can still be by Morgan. It would not be as extravagant as this, but it would be enough.” Steve finishes hurriedly. You’re still silently gawking and Steve’s heart starts to rise anxiously. “My dear, please say something so I don’t think I’ve gone mad.”

“Oh Steve, I’d love to!” you exclaim, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him against your body. With your face buried in his neck, you confess, “You have brought me more joy in these past months than in all my years.”

Steve moves away to face you. The smile on your face is unmatched and his heart soars at the idea that you will be his forever. “I love you, my dear.”

You lean closer so that your foreheads are touching. Whispering against his lips, you retort, “I love you the most.” Before Steve could protest, he feels you grab his neck lightly and press your lips against his. Steve cups your cheek gently as he kisses you back. The taste of herbal tea and the smell of your perfume invades his senses. He’ll never get sick of kissing you.

The two of you go inside and announce your engagement to the family. The celebration dominates the rest of the day and unbeknownst to Steve, his dark blue jacket still lays beneath the oak tree and it was never seen again.

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers imagine #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction

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a-tamed-dragon · 4 years

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Within These Walls: Chapter 3

The only thing I’ve been consistent on in the past... well, at since 2017. Isn’t that sad? Here is Chapter 3 of my Tokka fic “Within These Walls”.

In the wake of my own crumbling relationship of 3+ years, I have hope that somewhere in the atla-verse (lol like a pocket universe we spoke into existence) at least some people are happy somehow.

I would really appreciate feed-back on my writing. Thank you all!

Enjoy,

Prue

Part 1 Part 2

There wasn't anything out there as far as she could see. The wind was so loud in her sensitive ears it was deafening. She wasn't used to the cold, growing up in Ba Sing Se it was warm all year round. Her nose was numb with frost and the hair in her face was caked in snow. The thick fur around her hood muffled the whip of the arctic wind but did very little to clear the air. It was impossible to hear her travel partner, and currently, the man that was her eyes.

She knew they were in the village just outside of where they landed on Appa when many pairs of hands touched her shoulders and when she politely recoiled, a familiar arm encircled around her back.

"It's nice to see you too." His deep voice perked her ears up, attentively. "Where's Gran-Gran?" He excused themselves from the moderately sized crowd. The frozen girl heard her name passing numerous lips.

"That's Toph Beifong" – "Toph Beifong in our village." – "She must really be blind here." The comment made her set a hard brow, it wasn't malicious, but it was a weakness.

They were guided into a hut, the wind was silenced and warmth finally reached her frostbitten cheeks and nose. Even on rugs, the shoes she wore still muffled her vision like a heavy blindfold.

"Gran-Gran!" Sokka let go of his partner to rush towards his grandmother.

"Sokka, it's so nice to see you. My, you've grown." The old woman's voice was a new one to be stored in the blind-girls memory. That's how she knew everyone, she never forgot a voice. Sokka looked around the small hut of ice and blankets.

"Where's Master Paku?" He inquired.

"Oh, he had to go back to the Northern tribe and take care of a few things. You just missed him by 2 days." Before Sokka could say anything, Gran-gran asked, still in a merry tone. "How's Katara?"

"She's great! You'd be so proud to see her. She's a master, AND is working very closely with Aang." Sokka said in an excited tone, even though the siblings fought, they were still very proud of each other.

"That's my granddaughter." She said with a laugh. There was a pause and Toph stood where ever she was, still and tranquil with a hint of uncertainty.

"Gran-Gran, I'd like you to meet our very close friend- Toph Beifong, the best earth bender of all time." He gestured towards her, still one hand in his grandmothers'. The old woman approached her.

"Ah yes, I've heard so much about you. The fearless girl who can see with her feet." Toph smiled and extended a hand, she could hear the muffled sound of boots on the furs underfoot but couldn't distinguish much else. A rough warm hand closed around her mitten covered one.

"You invented a new form of bending, yes?" Toph was taller than Gran-Gran but not by all that much, she was still behind on a growth spurt.

"Metal bending, was it? Very smart." She clasped another hand over Toph's upper arm. "And very strong too." She turned back to her grandson. "Don't be a smart mouth with this one Sokka or you'll be through the roof." She said with a serious set face. Sokka rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders in the spotlight.

"Oh believe me Gran-Gran, I know." He nodded.

"It's so nice to finally meet you- uh, Mrs. Sokka's Grandma." She made an unsure laugh.

"AH HA" Gran-Gran chuckled wonderfully and warmly. "Just call me Gran-Gran." She smiled, even though Toph couldn't see it. Even with her red cheeks, the girl looked dangerously pale, almost ill.

"You two must be exhausted. I'll send some food. There are two pelts for each of you and I set out more blankets on the small table over there." She gave the direction really to Sokka but spoke facing Toph.

"Pleasure meeting you." Toph bowed respectively as Gran- Gran let go of her and went back to Sokka. Kissing his cheek and walking back out into the cold.

Unsure how to take off any of the heavy clothing, Toph was completely reliant on Sokka to take care of her. She was just a helpless little blind girl all over again.

They were alone and without the watchful eyes of the village, Sokka took the liberty of undressing her and began helping Toph out of her freezing clothes.

Taking his gloves off first and stuffing them in his pockets, he pulled her hood down ad untied the scar. He unraveled it with care and let the soaked scarf hit the rug. Occasionally his fingers brushed her cheek with undenounced purpose.

"Hands up." He had a smile with a light-hearted laugh.

Toph sniffed and raised her arms up, allowing him to pull the thick long coat over her head. She didn't feel odd about having the young man undress her. Beforehand, she had dressed her in traditional water tribe garb. Some of the clothes actually belonged to Katara: a blue shirt that V necked: pair of sweatpants over tight leggings: and boots he had to make her. He spend months finding just the right materials for the boots to be made, making her try many dozens of different furs on her feet to see what would be comfortable for him. He knew, and she had told him, that she would be blind once-off of Appa. However, he was grateful she took the trip with him.

The whole time Toph was like a compliant doll, probably used to it from the years of pampering from her parents and servants in Ba Sing Se. She raised her arms as needed and lifted a leg to slip the sweatpants off over her boots without a hitch or complaint. Nor was there any attempt by her to do it on her own. Sokka questioned that most of all, but upon getting the baggy pants off he discovered just why she didn't.

He slipped the pants off of her left booted foot and with her right leg only planted on the ground, Toph lost her balance. It startled Sokka as she immediately bent to put her hand on his shoulder for stability. Without her ability to see through earth bending, everything was dark except for herself.

Sokka stood up, untied the string holding each of her mittens on, an original design meant for a child, and pulled them off with care.

"Cold?" His voice was amused but soft, he was leaning forward and into his charge.

"Freezing." Toph didn't sound as nearly amused as him.

Sokka brushed the long ebony hair away from her delicate face and tucked it behind her ears. He wore a half-smile with pride and laid the inside of his hand on her face, cradling her frozen cheek in his palm. His hands were warm and brought the feeling back in the tingling skin.

"Here." He rubbed his thumbs on the apples of her cheeks. Her pale green eyes were distantly lingering on his chest, although out of habit he looked into them.

With his hands on her, she was given an entire image of him, the way he stood close to her, his muscular arms held up gently to hold her face in his big hands.

"Thanks." Toph paused but her tone left more than one word. She saw the way Sika's chin tilted. "Huh." Her laugh was empty. "So this is what being blind feels like." Her indifference sparked concern in her best friends' chest.

"I guess." The back of his hand ran up the hollow of her cheek. "Are you mad about coming? I could take you home tomorrow morning if you want." Toph shook her head.

"No. I want to stay with you. How many times have I made you suffer at the academy, anyway?" Now there was forced humor in her voice, and she licked her chapped bottom lip. "I just hate feeling so- so"

"Hate feeling helpless?" Toph turned her face away, out of Sokka's hold.

"But this time I am, I've been here 10 minutes and am sick of not being able to see a thing. I mean, YOU'RE my feet. It's amazing if I'm not dead by the time we leave." She threw her hands up in a very Toph way and her voice was animated with amusement, not to hurt Sokka, but in her common joking vernacular.

"You're not missing anything and there's nothing to see but snow for miles. And the village? Not much either. And, HEY, you trust me more than that! "He chuckled when Toph stuck the tip of her tongue out at him and smiled, brightening her sullen face.

"It's funny." She raised her hands up, one finding perch on his broad chest, and the other searching for his hand. "I can't see-see you, it's like being completely alone."

"But you're not alone Toph, you're here with me." She could faintly see the sway of his head nodding in assurance.

"Not like that, dunder-head." She moved her head in her way of rolling her eyes. "It's like… look." She slid her fingertips up to his face and covered his eyes with her hands. "See that?"

"No."

"That's what I'm feeling. Like there isn't anything around me, there's only me, until I can feel through someone else." She moved her hand off of his face and was alone again. "Right now. I can't see you. Or feel your heart. Or tell if you're going to step one way or the other."

Sokka still looked into her eyes, now with a better view that her hair was pulled away.

"You can still see me Toph, you just have to use your hands." He put his hand around hers and brought it flat to his chest, just above his heart.

Toph's fingers splayed slightly, feeling the thump of his strong heart. It was silent in the hut for a moment as he looked down at her, and her face was tilted up towards his. The tiny ridge between her eyebrows told him that she had something on her mind.

"What else?" She asked.

Sokka smiled and took her other hand that was now at her side. He placed it to his cheek lightly. Toph could count on one hand the amount of times she purposefully touched Sokka’s face. Mosr of them in chaste kisses they no longer talk about, she felt his cheekbones but never tried to map his features out.

Toph's fingers swept up his temples and down along the bridge of his nose, delicately sweeping over his eyelids, and brows. She could feel his heart beat faster. The tip of her index finger and first knuckle caressed just along his jaw that was even sharper than the last time she thought she mapped it. She reached the dimple in his chin, he was looking down at her, and his lips were just barely parted.

The pads of her fingers brushed his lower lip and a small smile pulled at the corners of her baby doll lips. He didn't know what she was thinking about but had a feeling it was the same thing he was.

The young pair were pulled apart by a voice calling their attention from just outside the hut.

"Sokka, I said are you both hungry?" Sokka looked up, clearing his throat as Toph turned her head away and cast her glassy eyes downwards.

"Yeah, just leave it here. I'll get it. Thanks." He let her hand slip out his and went to the entrance

Part 4

---

I hope you are enjoying my little... excursion into this ooolddd ship... That I still ship.

Leave a comment with constructive criticism or simply what you think!

#tokka #tokkafanfic #atlafanfic #sokkaxtoph #tophbeifong #toph #sokka #tokkafic #atameddragon #withinthesewalls!tokka

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scuzmunkie · 6 years

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Run, Little Rabbit, Run: Chapter 8

A/N: Happy October my darling little pumpkins!! You all are so amazing!! I’m so sorry this is so late!! I am so sorry for the small cliffhanger I left you lovelies with last week. I loved each and every comment left!! I love you all so much!! Without further ado, here’s chapter 8! As always please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or if there are any mistakes, enjoy! Smooches!! Baron Corbin x OFC Word Count: 2000+ Warnings: language, talk of death, mourning. Summary: Run, Addie, the Constable is coming for you..... +++ “Hello?” Addie called out. Looking around, she rubbed her eyes as she realized that she was still in the forest but there seemed to be a slight haze blurring her surroundings. Where was everyone? Looking down she screamed, falling on her backside. She covered her mouth, as she saw her bloody body still in Baron’s arms. Her eyes filled with tears as she watched him rock her lifeless body back and forth. “Please, Addie, please come back. I’m so sorry.” He cried into her neck. “Baron, I’m ok I’m right here. I’m...” She sobbed, trying to touch his shoulder, whimpering when her hand went through his arm. “Dead.” Addie covered her face as bitter tears fell down, knowing that there was nothing she could do now. Like her parents, death had finally taken her. And here she thought that the cancer would’ve killed her and not some supernatural jackass. “There, there child.” She heard as a gentle hand soothingly rubbed her shoulder. Addie sprang to her feet, backing away from whoever it was. There stood a woman, her olive toned skin glowing as her luminous white hair floated as if she were under water. Brilliant eyes that matched the brightness of a full moon. “Will you love him?” The etherial being asked. “Wh-what? Wh-who are you?” Addie asked as she kept putting distance between them. “I am the Goddess of the Moon, Mother to the Wolves.” “Oh, um... I’m Adelina. Do I, do I bow or curtsy or something?” Addie asked. It wasn’t every day one meets a goddess. The moon goddess gave a soft smile and shook her head. She absolutely loved humans, they never ceased to bring a smile to her face. With a wave of her hands, two chairs appeared. Sitting in one of them, she gestured for Addie to take the other one. Seeing as she literally had nothing to lose, she sat across from the moon goddess. Sighing, Addie turned her attention back to Baron, who was still sobbing into her corpse. “Is this what death is? Me walking the earth as a spirit?” Addie asked as a bastard tear slipped from her eye. “Oh no, my darling, death is so different from what your media shows. Death is simply going home, reuniting with loved ones who have passed before you.” As if on cue, a light broke through the night sky, two people standing in its warmth. Squinting her eyes, Addie saw the loving faces of her parents. “Oh my word, they look like they did in their wedding photos.” Addie said, covering her mouth. Without thinking, Addie began walking towards their open arms. Before she reached them, the moon goddess’s voice stopped her. “My sweet child, before you leave, you should know something.” Addie turned to look at the goddess with a puzzled expression. Again, she gestured for Addie to sit. “Death is not always final. You have a choice.” “Wait, what? How is that possible?” The moon goddess stood, walked towards Addie and crouched in front of her as she took both her hands. “I have been watching Baron his entire life. I’ve heard all his prayers, pleas and wishes. All he ever wanted was someone to love and love him in return. His father was never good to his mother, always belittling her, scaring her, hurting her all while poor little Baron watched. He wasn’t strong enough to protect his mother seeing as he was but a boy.” Addie felt her heart break at the thought of little Baron having to watch that horror. “Finally, when Baron was sixteen years old, he came home from school and found his mother, a bloody mess, cowering in the kitchen, his father standing over her, screaming. Something in Baron snapped and he challenged his father to a fight to the death. It was a long, grueling fight that ended with Baron standing over his father’s dead body. As he held and consoled his mother he promised himself that, if given one, he would love, protect and cherish his mate, he would never be his father.” “W-What does this have to d-do with me?” Addie asked in a small voice. “I have been watching you too. I knew that you’d be perfect for Baron.” “I’m nothing special.” She whispered while shaking her head. “He doesn’t want me.” “Oh my sweet girl, you are so special! Even though you’ve lived a life full of pain and loss, you still look for the joy, you love others as if they were your family, you’re strong in the face of adversity and you don’t let others get away with, I believe the vernacular is, bullshit. You have all the traits of a strong and loving luna. And believe me when I say that Baron worships the very ground you walk on.” “Luna... that’s the second time someone’s called me that. What is a luna?” Realization hit the goddess. “Oh how foolish of me for not explaining that. Of course you wouldn’t know. Forgive me child.” The goddess let out a small laugh. “A luna is the mate to the alpha. She is his moon, his queen, his everything. She is the only thing that can calm him even if he is almost completely shifted into his wolf. No other woman can tempt or satisfy the alpha. His love for her runs all through the pack as well. You remember how Ruby became more affectionate towards you within the past few months?” Addie nodded her head, smiling at the memories. “That’s because she felt her alpha’s love for you. So you see? Even if Baron was being stubborn, he and his wolf still had deep feelings for you.” Addie sat in silence for a bit, trying to wrap her head around what was just said. “So,” Addie finally broke the silence, “what are my choices?” “You can go with your parents, free of the sadness and heartache that comes with life.” “....or?” Addie whispered, looking back and forth between Baron and her parents. —- “Will you love her?” a soft voice asked. All eyes shot open and landed on the new voice that broke the silence. Baron, Ruby and Corey immediately felt their hearts warm up, as if their own mothers were holding them. She wore a simple white toga that flowed as she slowly walked towards the small group, never breaking eye contact with Baron. Now standing in front of him, she bent down and gently touched his cheek. “You know who I am” she said, her voice full of love. Not trusting his voice, Baron simply nodded as Ruby and Corey quietly made their way closer to their goddess. “Oh my dear boy, how stubborn you’ve been. I know you better than you know yourself. You really think I’d give you a mate that wasn’t good for you, child?” She lovingly looked at the lifeless body laid in Baron’s arms. Reaching down, she softly moved Addie’s hair out of her face. ”I’ve known since the day Adelina drew her first breath that she’d be the perfect mate for you. She loved you more than anything in this life....” she looked him in the eyes “and in the next.” Baron gave her a confused look. Placing two fingers on his forehead, she closed her eyes and bowed her head. It would be easier to show him. —- “What are my choices?” “You can go with your parents, free of the sadness and heartache that comes with life.” “....or?” Addie whispered, looking back and forth between Baron and her parents. She looked at her parents, a longing in her eyes. It had been so long since she was able to hold her father. And her mother.... she never had the chance to know her. Yet there they were, waiting for Addie with open arms and loving smiles on their face. She took a step towards them, ready to let go of all the pain, but then she heard it. Heard the voice that made her heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s wings. “I’m so sorry Addie, I failed you.” Baron mumbled, into Addie’s hair, “I should’ve told you when I had the chance.” “Told me what?” She whispered to no one in particular. “I love you, little rabbit.” “I’ll ask you again, will you love him?”the goddess asked again. Addie felt her chest fill with warmth like no other, then shatter at the same time. Looking once more at her parents, she gave them a sad smile. They looked back at her with tears of their own, knowing that it wasn’t her time yet. Having made her choice, she looked at the moon goddess and gave her a nod. “I’m ready.” —- Baron’s eyes snapped open as he stared at his goddess in shock. “Now you know what she sacrificed to be with you. Don’t make her regret her decision, my sweet boy.” She then playfully bopped Baron on the nose. “Will you love her?” She asked again. “With every fiber of my being.” Hearing all she needed, Baron watched as the moon goddess leaned down, placed her lips on Addie’s forehead. Cupping Addie’s face, she kissed her forehead, whispering something only she could hear. “I’ve done my part,” she told Baron, sitting up, “now the rest is up to her.” When the goddess pulled away from Addie, she had looked perfect, her clothes were good as new, the blood gone from her body and her shoulder healed only leaving Baron’s mark. The goddess stood and looked around at her other wolves. Walking to Corey and Ruby she kissed their foreheads. “Take care of your alpha, he needs all the guidance he can get.” She gave Baron a loving wink. Making her way towards her wayward wolf, she crouched down and gently touched Dolph’s shoulder. Stirring, he leapt into a fighting stance until his eyes landed on the deity that stood before him. “My dear child, stop this hate, the world is already so full of it. Be better. Respect your alpha and protect your luna!” She pulled him to his feet and cupped his cheek. “I love you, my little rogue, but you forget that I can see into your heart. I know how much you long for a place to belong. Now you’re part of of something stronger and if you give them a chance, they’ll love you more than you could ever imagine. Mind you, you have quite a bit of damage to fix. It’ll take time but be patient. Can you do that for me?” By now, Dolph had tears running down his face that she lovingly swiped away with her thumbs. Not able to use his voice, Dolph nodded his head. “Promise?” She asked, stroking his cheek. “I promise.” He mumbled as he leaned into his goddess’s touch. “Good.” She turned to everyone else, “I leave you now. Please, take care of each other.” With that, a cloud of pure light appeared and disappeared leaving no trace of their beloved moon goddess. Dolph bowed his head, looking at the ground with nothing but shame coursing through his veins. “Alpha, I’m so sorry-“ With lightening speed, Baron grabbed Dolph by the throat, glaring at him. “I should rip your throat out, but I know that she” he pointed at Addie’s cold body now being held by Ruby “wouldn’t want me to.” Sighing, Baron rubbed his face with his free hand. “If she survives this, as your alpha, I command you to stay the hell away from her until she deems it ok to be around you again. Am I absolutely clear?!” “Yes alpha.” Looking towards Corey, Baron gave him a nod. Corey and Ruby took Dolph and the three of them left. “Baron, pick up Adelina and I can teleport you both back to your hotel room. This is no place for you two to be right now.” Nodding, Baron carefully lifted Addie into his arms as Alicia took Aleister’s hand in one of her own and touched Baron’s shoulder with the other, Aleister placing his free hand on Baron’s other shoulder. Bowing his head, Aleister muttered a spell and within a blink of an eye, they were all standing in Baron’s hotel room. “Thank you both, for everything.” Baron whispered. Aleister nodded as Alicia kissed Addie’s forehead. “You better wake your ass up.” She whisper yelled in Addie’s ear. Aleister took Alicia by the hand and took their leave. Baron laid on the bed with Addie, staring at her lifeless face as he pulled her closer to his chest. “Please, little rabbit, please come back to me. I swear to you things will be different, I’ll get my head outta my ass and love you harder than any alpha has ever loved their luna. I just need you to open those pretty green eyes.” He whispered. His eyes grew heavy as he fell asleep holding his luna in his arms. Hours passed as the sun was now coming up, the warmth shining through his window heating their bodies. All the memories came flooding back to Baron as he let out a small whimper seeing Addie’s eyes still closed. Sitting up, Baron rested his elbows on his knees as he held his fists to his mouth. Had the goddess been wrong? Did Addie choose death over Baron? “Hey, why’d you move?” Addie grumpily asked. “I was comfy.” Baron turned to see the slightly mischievous glint in her eyes, a soft smile on her plump lips. Without hesitation, Baron dove on top of his luna, kissing her with everything inside him. Pulling back he took in her new appearance. She looked more alive, her skin almost glowing, eyes more vibrant and most of all, not a trace of cancer in her scent. Resting his forehead on hers, they quietly gazed into each other’s eyes as he ran his fingers through her hair. “I’m so sorry, Addie, I never should’ve let this happe-“ “Do you want me?” She whispered. “What?” That caught him off guard. “D-Do you want me?” Baron’s heart sank. Had he been a better mate and seen the gift that he was given instead of allowing his pride to get in the way then Addie wouldn’t be asking this. “If you’ll have me, I want you by my side til the end of time. I will give you everything I have in this life.”

“Well then,” Addie pressed her lips against Baron’s, pulling back with a mischievous look in her eyes, “I guess you’re mine, Alpha.”

Growling, Baron sat up and pulled her into his lap, burying his face into her neck. He kissed from her neck to her ear.

“Oh, little rabbit,” he whispered against her ear before nipping at the lobe, “you have no idea what you’ve just awoken.”

+++

Darling Little Pumpkins

@haven-raven012591 @hanaslay @feathers-and-flesh-and-wrestling @melinatedmuse @calwitch @empress-with-the-crown @thegloriousdisaster @empress-with-the-crown @kittysilver86 @lost-in-the-stories @neversatisfiedgirl @wrestlingfae @captainwinterwriter @hardyfangirl3 @team-elias @imagine-all-the-fandoms @yndaree @houndsofjxstice @briqueenofthenorth @belsoleleann @finnbalorsbabygirl @nonnirenea @scarlettquinn

#baron corbin x oc #female!oc #baron corbin fanfiction #baron corbin imagine #baron corbin fluff #baron corbin angst #werewolf #WWE #wwe fanfiction #wwe angst #wwe fluff #wwe imagine

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gretagerwigarchive · 6 years

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Greta Gerwig, Accidental Movie Star

by Mark Asch, 03/28/2012

source: http://www.thelmagazine.com/2012/03/greta-gerwig-accidental-movie-star/

Like you, Greta Gerwig is still figuring out how she ended up in the job that’s working out surprisingly well for her. Since she arrived at the SXSW Film Festival in 2006, on spring break from her senior year at Barnard, in conjunction with her first film role in Joe Swanberg’s LOL, her onscreen roles and career trajectory have traced an arc familiar to many from her generational cohort. Initially playing stumbling postcollegiate strivers in films from the loosely associated DIY movement everybody kept claiming to hate referring to as “mumblecore,” Gerwig these last few years has graduated to Hollywood comedies like No Strings Attached and Arthur, and has become something of a muse to the literate, neurotic writer-directors to have emerged from previous indie epochs. She was the secret heart of Noah Baumbach’s Greenberg; she stars in the first film in over a decade by writer-director Whit Stillman, Damsels in Distress, a daffy comedy about campus mores which comes out April 6; the big kahuna, Woody Allen’s To Rome with Love, comes out in June. We met for lunch earlier this month, before she headed uptown to see the new production of Death of a Salesman; our conversation follows, give or take some grumbling about New York’s gentrification and what the internet is doing to our brains.

Is there any kind of trade-off as far as having been in films, at least initially, where you had some claim to authorship over them, versus now? How comfortable are you with the trade-off? The trade-off is strange as far as—I love it some ways. In some ways it’s wonderful to have a strong author to a film, a writer-director like Whit, but. It’s frustrating when you both don’t have a voice and then there isn’t someone else with a strong vision. That’s really hard, because then it feels like I don’t know what language I’m speaking, or what world I’m in, no one really setting the tone. It’s a pleasure to be in someone else’s world and vernacular, but it is hard in terms of… I don’t know, acting in some ways is so selfless, it’s strange because actors do get a lot of visible glory, but at the same time, there are ways in which you’re really a vessel for someone else, and always in someone else’s world, and I don’t know that I’m always adequately selfless—I’m always deeply impressed by actors that give only to the character and it’s not about themselves at all, and I always struggle with that, I always feel like I’m battling between what Greta thinks—

Is it a kind of self-consciousness? It’s more like, I mean on a very base level, it will be like: I’ll be reading a script and have an opinion about it and say, “I could’ve written this better!” But it’s… that’s not good. But I think on another level—this sounds pretentious, not pretentious, but I think it’s an actress I admire very much said it, but it’s a little elevated, but someone said, Actors are written in water. A performance disappears as soon as it appears, and even if it’s caught on film it’s gone.

I think that was Keats’s epitaph, actually. Really? Well, an actress said this, at a moment of passion. Anyway, there is a way in which it’s fated as soon as it’s begun, so if you have any sort of author instinct, you have to kind of squish it down.

I had a question for you about writing. You wrote, initially. Do you still? What are you working on? I shot a movie that I wrote.

Oh, you did? I hadn’t heard about that, can you tell me about it? It’s a secret. It should be at festivals this fall or next winter, but it’s done, it’s shot, so… Still writing! It’s sort of deliberately been under the radar because it’s hard to surprise people and everyone has expectations about it.

You were doing dramatic writing in college, right? I was doing playwriting in college. And I love the theater, so I did a lot that when I was in college, and I kept doing it after college but I got pulled into this world. I think in some ways—I mean I do love film, but I think if I had been pulled into the world of theatre, that had as many opportunities, I would have hung on—

Writing or acting, or both? Both. It was more of a response to when you’re just out of college, it’s like a desert. It’s like, you’ve gone from—there’s a rich culture, so many opportunities, people are responding to everything you do and interested and willing to enter you and give you small amounts of funding to work on stuff, giving you awards every two seconds. And out of college, there’s nothing, you have no structure—and I’m so grateful to Joe Swanberg and Andrew Bujalski and the Duplasses that that they were making all this work and that I could just dive into what they were doing. So much of the battle was about forward momentum, and all you want to do is be given a canvas. I love films and I love what we did but I also think in some ways it was happenstance.

This makes another good segue, because the film that we’re promoting, you and I, Damsels in Distress, which I love, and which we’ll get to— Yay! I love it so much.

Well, let’s talk about that. We’ll go back to college. It’s just so virtuous and credulous and you’re playing somebody’s who’s discovering all these belief systems and internal logics for the first time. I think it’s just such an openhearted movie about… I guess, generousness of spirit. She’s the most sincere liar, too. She’s a terrible liar, but she completely means it the whole time. It’s such an odd character, such an odd group of characters—and movie. Watching it, the first time I watched it was in Venice at the film festival, and the strangeness was heightened by the fact that it was mostly an Italian audience, the jokes don’t totally work for them or they would work a little later because of the subtitles, but when I was making it I really believed in Whit’s world. It all started sounding really rational. When I originally read the script, it seemed that it was heightened and satire and I started making it—

He means everything, I think. He means everything. It’s totally sincere on his part. He’s not making fun of these people and he’s not making fun of their ideas, or what they’re going through, and, I don’t know, there’s this quality he has in his filmmaking that it’s hard to put my finger on that I really really like. It happens in Last Days of Disco and in Metropolitan I think the most. But there’s something that happens towards the end of the movie in his movies, people are often just sort of… forgiven.

He has a remarkably inclusive worldview, I think. I like that he writes about these very circumscribed social microcosms where you don’t really have the option of not socializing with somebody because of personal animosity or romantic rivalry and then by the end everybody is sort of reconciled to each other. I think he likes all his characters, I don’t think he writes bad people. Even the people who are difficult, like Violet, or the Kate Beckinsale character in The Last Days of Disco, he likes them. He’s generous with all of them.

Is it interesting, because he’s I guess 60 years old now— He is? Oh my goodness, I didn’t know.

Well, I was interested because it’s a much different perspective on this age bracket than many of the films you’ve made with people who are much closer to you in age. I know. It’s a much more interesting perspective.

It’s what youth looks like I suppose to somebody else, for once. I don’t think—you know it’s funny, but I never really thought about it as a movie about young people. I think in his world adults behave the same way. I tend not to look at like, this is about young people—I mean, most things are about young people, so it’s hard to…

Yes, but I mean there’s things specifically— College—

Well not even college, but the way that somebody like your character repeats things and the way your character tests out everyone else’s formulations. It seems at least sort of formative or tentative. Not to get sidetracked into arguing… No, I just thought it was interesting that I never really thought of it like that. I mean it just seemed so out of time, in a way. I guess it didn’t have that “this is how young people live today” feeling, which, some of the other movies I’ve done feels like that. It felt like it was about young people in a world that never existed.

How was it working with a group of younger and, at this point, lesser-known actresses for the most? I guess that’s fairly a fairly recent development for your career right, at least in terms of larger films. It is. They were great. I mean, it was sort of like, actually most of us were around like 27 or 26 when we made it. Annaleigh Tipton’s younger, but everyone else was sort of—me and Aubrey Plaza and Megalyn and Caitlin were all sort of… it was actually kind of nice in that way, acting like you’re in college after you’re out of college, only Analeigh was actually college age, but the idea of being the known element is utterly absurd still to me. But I would say more than being sort of a whatever-that-means known element, it’s the first time I’ve ever been number one on the call sheet. It’s different the way that you feel in a movie. Because even if you’re a big part but you’re not the biggest part you still come in and do your work, but you’re not setting the tone for everyone. And actually doing that was a challenge, I loved doing it but it’s terrifying because—it must be, this is an unfair comparison, but it must be sort of what it feels like to have a child, where you realize, “Well, my parents never knew what they were doing. You just… can have a baby.” You always feel like, when you’re lower down on the call sheet, the person who’s number one seems that they must have some secret knowledge that you don’t have. But for the most part they don’t, everyone’s just acting every day.

It’s. I suppose, analogous to pretty much anything that people in our age bracket are experiencing in whatever field they’re in, by now. Or it’s creepy when you realize that people I went to college with are now out of medical school, or out of law school. And it’s like, “She’s my fucking doctor? I did E with her at four in the morning on a roof!” But now they’re becoming the people… There’s this Joseph Conrad novella called The Shadow Line, it’s about being 27, when you cross this “shadow line,” from boyhood into manhood, It’s about this guy who takes over a ship when the captain dies, and stuff happens, and he’s all of a sudden given, he’s become the captain of the ship, and it’s happened in a second, and he realizes he’s crossed the shadow line, and now he can’t go back. It’s great, it’s not that long, but it’s so good, it’s so good, and it ends with him talking to all these old sailors—or it’s framed so he’s telling the story of when he was 27, and he’s old now. And old in Joseph Conrad stories is, like, 50. It’s so sad, it’s so sad, and he’s talking about being young and he sort of says, like, none of us knew that was going to be the happiest we ever were.

I went back and reread an interview you did with Lena Dunham where you talked about wanting to work with Woody Allen, about how he “had an erotic renaissance with Scarlet Johannsson and he can have a neurotic renaissance with” you. I guess I did say that.

And I was wondering, now, how it came about? And how the experience was, in comparison to what you expected. I think if you had a moment that you’ve been anticipating and can’t believe that it’s happening and you’ve been building up your whole life, you almost can’t experience it while it’s happening, so it was amazing, but it also had a very dreamlike quality and I also feel like I want to do it again. I want to go back and do it again, I want him to make another movie… I had a great part, but it was also very much an ensemble and I wanted to spend 24 hours a day with him. I think it’s always a struggle to be present in your own life while it’s happening, especially while good things are happening—but yeah I watched the documentary about him a couple of months later and I didn’t feel like I had had that experience, it still felt removed to me. Maybe if I see the movie, it’ll feel like that.

As a director, is he particularly—not demanding, but specific? Yeah, he’s specific. It’s funny, people always say he doesn’t direct, but he really does direct, in my experience. He gives you freedom with the words—oh my gosh, doesn’t that dessert look really good? I might get it—he says, “Oh, say whatever you want to say,” but he’s looking for a sound, I think he’s looking for something that sounds naturalistic to him. He’ll push it until he hears what he wants, which is, you know, that’s what good directors do.

That’s interesting because you see a lot of sort of open-ended takes where there’s enormous of variety in terms of style or vocal mannerism. It seems like an interesting contrast between him having very specific standards and the results on screen often looking very relaxed. It’s pretty amazing to me that still makes a film a year. It’s odd that—I think that there’s two different kinds of actors, I think there are actors who fell in love with acting, and I think there are actors who feel in love with writing. And I think I’m an actress who fell in love with writing more than even acting, and with Woody Allen and other people… I love participating in them, as writers. But the same time, part of me, I think that’s why I write too. Part of me is like, “Was I responding to wanting to be them, or be part of them? Did I want to have my own experience of doing that do I want to be part of their experience of doing it?”

Do you have a sense when you’re working with other performers—do you feel that most of the performers you’ve worked sort of give in to the script. Do you feel like you’re in the minority or the majority? I think it depends. I think a lot of my favorite actors are ones who are in love with acting, and maybe I’m just self-loathing. But I think a lot of my favorite actors, I think they’re the ones who can take mediocre material and elevate it. Because they’re so in love with acting that they can do that. I don’t know. I’m not quite sure I think that there’s a good number of actors that I love who know struggle with it too. Gene Hackman is one of my favorites, he has nothing good to say about acting, pretty much.

That’s his persona, too. That’s the thing, yeah, I’m such a sucker, too, I believe personas, I believe interviews, sometimes I’ll read things, like, “That’s the truth” and my agent’s always like, “Greta, you of all people should know this is not always true.” I can’t like separate it, if I read a profile of someone… I actually think some of the best, for me, whenever I feel like uninspired, especially as an actor, I love listening to Terry Gross’s interviews with actors, she always asks great questions and she gets them talking about something they love, and listening to really smart, interesting actors talk about why they love acting makes you want to do it. I just heard Viola Davis talk about it and I was like, “Oh my god,” I was crying, she’s talking about her grandmother and what it means to be an actor and it’s really I think that’s always a good thing. I don’t know, I think listening to other actors talk about acting is the best way to learn about it.

One thing I remember vividly from Hannah Takes the Stairs was the sense that the struggle for the character that you played was about expressing herself, verbally and whatever else that implies, and the film that I thought of at the time was actually Kicking and Screaming, because it was a completely opposite tack, people talking around and around and around the same problems. And I was wondering, as you’ve started to work with directors who are known as writers of great dialogue, about the difference between performing inarticulacy and performing articulacy. Well, I love scripts, I love lines, I love working with good ones… With Whit, the character of Violet is the most articulate character I’ve ever played. I don’t have the sense of Hannah, or other films that I made—we got a lot of shit for the way we used language, or for people struggling with what they were going to say, but I don’t know that struggling to find the right word is necessarily a sign of inarticulacy. It’s odd because I think sometimes it shows someone who cares a lot about language, because they’re struggling and can’t find the words. Mike Nichols said something about—I actually, as a person who both acts in things and writes things, I’m not that interested in improvisation. I don’t like it that much. I don’t think it’s that useful. Most often it yields something that might be interesting, but feels like a rehearsal. And then you need somebody like Mike to go away and shape it and make it amazing and come back and execute. Mike Nichols said something, he came from an improvisational background, that there’s this quality to improv where someone says something, they’re not really thinking about their motivation or anything else, they’re just so proud to have thought of something to say. And there’s this kind of, “I just thought of this and now I’m gonna say it,” and he said that ideally all lines should feel that way too. And the biggest thing for me, with really great dialogue, is finding the words spontaneously appear for you, in your body, and they come out in the same—I think that’s what’s exciting. I think that’s what the whole struggle with acting is. In Greenberg, I had very precise things to say, but they weren’t very erudite… Often, she struggled to find the right thing to say. So sort of artificially creating that struggle…

Is that different from going through it— Yeah. Because it has a predetermined meaning, as opposed to inventing the meaning while you’re doing the scene. I haven’t done straight improv like that in a long time. It’s an odd skill. It’s cool, but the well runs dry at some point.

Let’s talk about New York stuff. Where do you live? I live in Chinatown. Off of East Broadway, so real deep. I love it. It feels like After Hours. It shuts down really early and the streets are deserted and it feels crazy.

Where were you before Chinatown? I’ve lived a lot of places. Before Chinatown, I was in Chelsea, before that, I was in East Williamsburg, and before that I lived in Park Slope—we called it “Park Slide,” it was the not quite as nice part of Park Slope, by the water.

I suppose I should ask you about living in Brooklyn, and which bars you went to, and whether it’s completely ruined now—when were you in East Williamsburg? Like two years ago, two or three years ago. Right off of Grand.

By the high school? Yeah, they used to show the Met Opera there, which was convenient. I love Brooklyn, when I leave Chinatown I might go back, the only thing that could be hard about it is if the train’s not running, you’re screwed. Especially in Park Slope, my experience of being there was not having enough money to go anywhere, so it was a lot of getting just really cheap like Georgi vodka, we used to buy Georgi vodka and juice concentrate. It was disgusting. And we wouldn’t even unfreeze the juice concentrate to make juice, we just let it get a little soft, we’d mix it in and maybe add a little water, but it was like fully disgusting. Most of Brooklyn was just marked by being—it was a lot of drinking at home. My friend Gabby made up this phrase, we used to bring Naughty Nalgenes everywhere.

#2012 #Interview #Greta Gerwig #Damsels in Distress

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sigma7 · 7 years

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give him the stick DON’T give him the stick

The good news: the Fenslerfilms versions of the classic GI Joe PSAs have been converted to HD!

youtube

The bad news: some Wikipedia buzzkill has decided that the exhaustive description of the PSAs on the Fenslerfilm Wikipedia page is just not encyclopedic-enough to retain on the page itself. It’s relegated to the history of the page, but just to insure the survival of these laser-precise summaries, I’m including them below. Given a year for each, I could not write better summaries.

#1: You're Not My Friend A young boy gets lost at a carnival while checking out a shooting tent. He bumps into Alpine, who confuses the boy with, "Mi mi mi mi," noises, in a send-up of the poor animation of characters' speaking mouths. Alpine quickly adds, "Naw, I'm just kiddin' with ya." The boy's friends return and ask, "Hey man, who's that weird dude you're talking to, bro?" The boy awkwardly says to Alpine, "My friends are here, oh cool, s-s-see you later." Alpine's face then strains as he appears to fart.

#2: Blanco Nino Some children are playing football. One of them is tackled roughly to the ground. He discovers that his nose is bleeding and asks for someone to take him to the hospital. Another kid turns to him and says "you sure about that?" Footloose shadows over the boys and says authoritatively, "Nice catch, blanco niño, but too bad your ass got saaaacked!" After which Footloose appears, through video editing techniques, to tackle the boy.

#3: Body Massage Two boys on bikes stop in front of a downed live wire on the road. One suggests that they "launch" over it. Roadblock approaches and asks, "Who wants a body massage?" He casts the wire away as he sings softly to himself in a Barry White-style baritone ("Mr. Body Massage Machine...GO!"). One of the boys then asks "Eeeeeh, what the hell?" Roadblock proudly responds, "Body massage!"

#4: Fire On Your Sleeve Two boys are camping. While putting more logs on the campfire, one says, "Speaking of logs, I'm going to take the Cosby Kids down to the river," then one of the boy's sleeves catches fire. Spirit runs in speaking in a Native Indian language (sampled from Brocket 99). He wraps the boy in a blanket and rolls him on the ground for an excessively long time. Spirit lectures the boy again in his strange language. The other boy asks, "You didn't take anything out of our tent, did ya?" Spirit gives an answer (once again in vernacular) and gives a slight nod.

#5: Ice Three boys race onto a frozen lake, the first one crying, "Last one there's a penis pump!", while the other two attempt to catch up, shouting, "That's not fair!" over each other (a theme which continues throughout this PSA). The first boy slides on the ice ("Holy cow, I'm totally going so fast. Aw, fuck!") and then slips, cracking the ice. While the other two attempt to walk out to rescue the boy, Snow Job approaches on skis. The two boys ask for help, but Snow Job launches a foul-mouthed tirade at them in a Cockney accent. When the children reach out with a stick, Snow Job approves ("Give him the stick."), then immediately contradicts himself ("Don't give him the stick!"). When they look at him and reply simultaneously ("We're sorry," and "Do you know my dad?"). Snow Job then sings a loud "Oh" to an A note in a bass-baritone voice.

#6: Kids Fry Two children are wakened by a smoke alarm. They approach the door, but Barbecue arrives at the window, letting out a series of vocoded noises. He opens his palm toward one of the kids and releases an energy pulse, disintegrating the child. The other boy looks at Barbecue in bewilderment, then succumbs to the same fate.

#7: Porkchop Sandwiches Two boys are in a kitchen. Their dubbed voices make them sound like they are mentally challenged. One of the boys turns on the stove and puts a frying pan on it. The other boy, who is standing in the doorway to the kitchen eating an apple, says to him, "You don't know how to cook anything." The boy standing in front of the stove says "Yeah I do." The flame from the burner ignites curtains which are hanging near the stove, causing the boy who turned it on to start stuttering in panic. Blowtorch runs in, shouting "porkchop sandwiches!" This line is one of the most frequently quoted by fans, and Fensler has until recently sold T-shirts sporting the phrase. He arrives at the kitchen door and in a panic-ridden voice orders the children: "Oh shit, get the fuck out of here! What are you doing? Go, get the fuck out of here, you stupid idiot! Fuck, we're all dead! Get the fuck out!" His panicked tone of voice contrasts oddly with his calm body language. Outside, he tells them, "My God, did that smell good!" prompting a stream of gibberish from one of the boys. One of the boys says something along the lines of, "Detector no go and you tell me, do things, I done runnin'..." This is met with Blowtorch's staring toward the camera, followed by a closeup of that same stare.

#8: Slip A boy is standing on the edge of a cliff, and his friend runs off toward the woods shouting, "Mom, Dad, come here! You gotta see this! This is so cool—" The cliff edge the boy is standing on then gives way, and the boy falls into the sea, screaming, "Shiiiiii-(t)" as the cliff crumbles beneath him. The PSA cuts off abruptly at this point, lasting only nine seconds in total.

#9: Belch Kids playing baseball get into a heated argument over whether a runner is safe or out. Cutter (apparently drunk) arrives and challenges one of the boys to what is apparently a belching contest (represented by the voice-actors as a lengthy vocal fry vocalization). The boy initially demurs, suggesting a different kid as an alternative participant. Cutter refuses, explaining: "Because I already had him. That's right, kids, I already had him." The boy reluctantly agrees to play, and after about 32 seconds of "uhhhhhh" belching-noises from both, the boy cannot do it anymore and concedes defeat, but Cutter continues in a trance-like state for another 40 seconds until the PSA ends, with an excessively long final note, lasting about 20 seconds, on the chorus of "G. I. Joooooooooooooe..."

#10: Bus Rider A boy and a girl high on medicine cabinet drugs and/or possibly alcohol go into the kitchen to get some more, with the boy saying, "Yeah, we should totally hit it again but I get first dibs on it." Doc appears in the window singing a dancehall song. The boy joins him in a bizarre high-pitched voice until it ends. Doc repeats an approximation of "Sunshine dey yah, a time fi di bus ride," in nearly indecipherable patois. Based on the song "Fun Time Deh Ya" by Night Rider.

#11: There's No Retard In Team Kids playing soccer accost their goalkeeper for failing to stop a shot ("There's no retard in team!"). Flint approaches and gives the kids a bewildering account of the day's international news. The news is as follows, "Damage to the base is said to be heavy and the Israeli jets are reported to have made it back to their headquarters." The team scores and while celebrating Flint returns and his news report continues: "A 49-year-old unidentified man went berserk last night, opening fire with a 12-gauge shotgun in a crowded downtown restaurant... Fighting broke out overnight between rival factions along the Israeli-Syrian border. Initial reports claim the Israeli fighters bombed a guerrilla base, kill—" with the "G.I. Joe" chorus ending, cutting Flint off in mid-sentence. The news announcements were sampled from "Segue (II)" off New Power Generation's 1995 album Exodus (Track 15). The same samples were also used on Megadeth's "The Scorpion" from the 2004 album The System Has Failed, the Spin Doctors' "What Time Is It," Chamillionaire's song "The Morning News," off his 2007 album, Ultimate Victory, and Jonathan Coulton's song "Shop Vac." The announcements can also be heard in Cowboy Bebop's "Session 5: Ballad of Fallen Angels", playing on a radio in the background during Annie's store scene; the video game Grand Theft Auto's in-game radio station "Head Radio"; the Sega Dreamcast game Shenmue 2, during the music track "Gifts"; in the background of episode 1 of Californication; and in the game Fahrenheit, where it can be faintly heard among static on a restaurant's radio. This also played in a radio news report in the movie "XIII".

#12: Car Accident While riding bikes without lights or reflectors, two boys narrowly avoid an accident with Dusty's jeep. He crashes and runs over to the boys with helicopter noises in the background, bellowing a butch version of the "Game Over" theme from Sega Rally Championship ("Game Over Yeaaahhhhhh!") to the boys.

#13: Pink Purse A boy talking in ebonics jumps a gap at a building site and a sound effect plays, presumably because the pit shown is far too wide for a child to jump across without supernatural assistance. Before completing the gap, he tells his companion "It's just eee threasy (three easy) steps, just flip it, stick it, and see you later bye!" The young girl is hesitant to do the same. He exhorts her to try, telling her "You better bring it." Lady Jaye approaches and asks them, "Kids? Did you happen to see a pink... um, I wanna say, vinyl purse around here somewhere? ...I'm just dying to get my cigarettes." The boy reels back, protesting that he hasn't seen any purse, but the scene slows down in the middle of his sentence in order to poke fun at the low quality of inbetweening in the spot, showing a loss of volume in the boy's head in different frames. The girl responds in a peculiar manner; she appears to slow down time to the point where her animation frames (four in total) are played for several seconds each. On the last frame, she lets out a surprising "Bah!" sound. The film ends with a shot of Lady Jaye smiling nervously.

#14: Motorcycle A boy named Eric is being talked to by a stranger off-screen, who is attempting to give important life advice to the boy. He talks at breakneck speed, and when Eric fails to pay attention, the man drives off, annoyed. The monologue is as follows: "Now you listen to me, Eric. You don't blow your money on those comic books, you understand? They don't do you a damned bit of good, and the nude mags, you're gonna be inheriting mine when you're 16 anyway. Now look, the junk food and the candy just rots your teeth, gives you bad breath, and the girls run like hell. Stay the hell away from buying any rock TV shirts, or hip hop gear, or anything like that. Arcade games—pick out one that you can do, okay? ONE that you can do as opposed to a whole bunch of them that you don't know what the hell you're doing. Techno music just puts a hole in your brain an... are, are you listening to me? Look at me when I'm talking to you!" At this point, the man drives away and Wild Bill approaches on a motorcycle. He treats Eric and Eric's friend to a confusing, tone-deaf and completely non sequitur rendition of Arlo Guthrie's Motorcycle Song. Perhaps the most confusing aspect is that Eric's friend appears to morph after the stranger drives away. He was clearly an Eric clone, but takes on a much darker complexion and different clothes by the time Wild Bill arrives. This friend later attests that he's "about to putdapressabutdawutdawiddaman." Wild Bill continues to sing when Eric shrugs his shoulders saying that he doesn't know what he's doing, but gets cut off by him singing "I just wanna ride my motorcy..." then pauses for a second to say the remaining "...cle."

#15: Help Computer A boy approaches a dog to pet it saying, "Aw, hell no, what's up, dog?", but the dog reacts violently, causing the boy to back away. Mutt arrives and says, "Hey kid, I'm a computer! Stop all the downloadin'!" as the boy steps back from the dog. The dog leaves. Mutt puts his hands on the boy's shoulders and asks him to, "Help computer." The boy explains, "I don't know much about computers, other than, other than the one we got at my house, and my mom put a couple of games on there and I play 'em." Mutt, either annoyed by this or so angered that his software malfunctions, replies with a garbled robotic message from the NBC series NewsRadio.[19] The sound byte is specifically from season 3, episode 24 entitled "Space". It is the sound that Dave's artificially intelligent chair makes when it is being shut down against its will.

#16: Swimming Two kids are swimming in a lake (one splashing the other shouting "You like it, you love it, you need it!") but a thunderstorm develops. One kid gets out but the other stays in. Deep Six rises from the water, surprising the boy who's still in the water (shouting an exaggerated "Oh yosh!") and shepherds him onto land. The boys are terrified as Deep Six's protection suit gives him muffled speech so it is impossible to understand what he is saying. One of the boys asks, "Are you in the Army?" Lightning strikes the water and the second boy says, "If I had been in that water... dead." Deep Six continues to lecture the boys in his muffled tone, and one boy responds with some lightning fast dialogue which sounds something like "It's really cold out here...bye!"

#17: Australian Kids who are playing truant hang around an abandoned refrigerator. Recondo (with an Australian accent) is keeping tabs on them. He says, "I'm glad you guys... skipped the class today. We're havin' fun, aren't we?" One of the kids replies, "I wanna play videogames." He responds, "We had a good conversation, heh heh heh. You, you're the ringleader," followed by a burst of maniacal gibberish. As he puts one of the children in the refrigerator he exclaims, "Go'n, get in that fridge there, boy!" and "They don't understand! We gotta sneak back in the school." One other kid expresses a desire to get in the fridge, too. Recondo's chuckling ends the PSA.

#18: Pimp A blind boy and his friends are out walking in the country. The blind boy (with the help of his white cane) is acting like a stereotypical pimp to the annoyance of his friends, who tell him, "Brian, you ain't no pimp, dude!" The blind boy, looking for his money, says "Where's mah money?" A blonde girl speaks up and says "That's my money." Brian then replies; "Man you're just a Jealous motherfucker!", possibly since he is a pimp. Spirit approaches them, speaking in the same Native American language used in PSA04, also sampled from Brocket 99. The blind boy finds a cat in a hollow log. The girl then says that "it's such a wonderful experience here with the Indian."

#19: Fire Alarm Starts with the scene of a house on fire. A boy challenges a boy to push a fire alarm saying, "Bet you won't touch that button, bitch." He tries to do so, but Barbecue approaches them, making the same noises he makes in "Kids Fry," stops the boy from pushing the button, and pops off his helmet. He says (with a slight Upper-Midwestern accent) "Hey guys. Ah, you know it's funny, these people, they go to sleep, they think everything's fine, everything's good... They wake up the next day and they're on fire."

#20: Dockside Bars Two boys have a race through a park. One takes a nearby bicycle to cheat, while the other catches up, saying, "Hey, what the fuck? No way! Suck my dust, bitch!" Shipwreck stops them both, says, "I believe I knew your mother, son," and asks if his name happens to be Johnny. He then asks a series of questions implying that he is the boy's long-lost father. In the end, he asks "Does your mother still hang out at dockside bars?" The boy is bewildered, but Shipwreck follows up with his next question; "Johnny, do you play baseball?" The line of questioning used by Shipwreck is reminiscent of Captain Oveur's questioning of a child passenger in the comedy film Airplane!.

#21: Water Skiing A child is waterskiing. She quickly falls off. Scarlett approaches and the child enthusiastically says, "My turn! My turn! My turn!". She then takes off on the water skis. Scarlett watches on and hums a tune, which develops into a scat singing improvisation session.

#22: Mr. LaFitte Some kids are skateboarding in a roller park with sound effects from Tony Hawk's Pro Skater. Gung-Ho approaches with a girl he calls Susie. He acts with a flamboyant homosexual stereotype telling the girl, "Susie, don't forget your sandwiches!" The boys approach him and he says "Oh, you boys look so lovely in your little outfits." The Yellow Helmeted kid says "Hey! Whats up Miss, uhh..Mister LaFitte?" The Red Helmeted Kid says "Hey.. Watch me Ollie!", referring to a skating move. GungHo then says "I just want to eat you up!" Yellow Helmet Kid then says "Love the tattoo, Mr.LaFitte." GungHo places his hands onto his hips and says "Look at all your different colored hats!" (The Gung Ho character's name is Ettienne R. LaFitte)

#23: Anime This PSA is entirely in Japanese. Kids are making a treehouse. One of them falls but Quick Kick arrives just in time to catch him. A nonsensical conversation in Japanese takes place, which consists mainly of stereotypical phrases from a Japanese-language learning course ("What time is it?", "Please wait while I change my clothes", "Nice to meet you", "How are you?", "Please call me in two or three days.") and has no relevance (when translated) to the incidents in the PSA. The closing chorus is sung in Japanese ("Jii waratashi fuzukuru!"). The timing, music, and ending are all parodies of classic anime.

#24: Buzz Lightyear Three boys are on a boat. One makes an insult about the other's mother ("I fuckin' haxxord your mom's ass last night"). The insulted boy replies with "You might want to put a vest on", and then proceeds to knock the insultee (who is not wearing a lifejacket) off the boat with the sail. The third boy then says "Orange vests are for pussies", clearly in a tone mocking a previous (unheard) conversation with the drowning boy, while wearing an orange vest himself. Deep Six arrives in a submersible boat and drags the boy to safety. Deep Six, still speaking in an unintelligible muffled falsetto through his diving mask, tries to lecture the boys. One of them asks, "Hey, aren't you Buzz Lightyear?", and another whispers "I love your movies." Deep Six gets noticeably angry about this comparison and shouts in his muffled voice.

#25: Fuckin' Old School A girl turns to a boy and says "fuckin' old school". The boy in turn faints but it is edited to appear as if he is break dancing within a large group of children. A chiptunes instrumental plays throughout alongside sporadic crowd reactions. Airtight appears in an extreme close-up, and says (over the music) "Damn... these beats are so fresh... sssssssnap!"

#gi joe #porkchop sandwiches #who wants a body massage #GAME OVER YEAH #holy cow I'm totally going so fast AAAH FUCK

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