#FINE BY ME!!! i have zero emotional attachment to this shit… i’ve been wanting it gone for years

[pollenallergie]

what if i… bleached my hair?? and bleached my brows?? and bleached my latina ‘stache?? and bleached my hairy ass arms??? and what if i just dipped my entire body in a vat of bleach??? what then???

[greensaplinggrace]

What Is There To Celebrate About the Darkling? (Part 4)

1 2 3 4

He’s calculating but impulsive. Gentle yet firm. Stubborn and adaptive. Just a real mess of contradictions that makes him all the more interesting.

He loves nature. He loves the forest.

Fond of luxuries and nice things. After growing up as he did, I think he deserves them.

Very socially awkward. Introvert just trying his best. Anything that isn’t manipulation and therefore something he’s planned in his head is just a social train wreck waiting to happen.

The way he pushes up Alina’s sleeve when they first meet. This man had zero compunctions about acting completely unprofessionally in front of his soldiers and I think that’s very sexy of him.

He’s constantly tired and exasperated with the people around him.

The way he says “quiet” with the softest voice imaginable and a room full of laughter instantly goes silent.

He had no interest in Elizaveta even though she was utterly obsessed with him and I think that’s hilarious.

Elizaveta: I have a plan to resurrect the Darkling Everybody Else: Oh the Darkling is so evil for trying to come back! The Darkling, who just wants a nap and is sick of this mortal bullshit: Why am I even here? This is such a pain in the ass. I should have killed Elizaveta when I had the chance.

How he asks if Alina “will have” his name like a man proposing.

Has his bedroom attached to the war room.

Constantly checking up on Alina just to know how she’s doing. Never pushing her beyond her limits as she’s training.

Very creative with his shadows and the extent of their abilities. So many of the ways he uses his powers are genius.

His ending in RoW is a tragedy and an injustice. He deserves better.

This old man pouting at Alina in episode seven as he says “please, I just want to talk to you 🥺”

There is a black kefta made for Alina after like two days in the Little Palace. He really was already planning their entire immortal futures together as Mr. and Mrs. Starkov wasn’t he?

His bed is covered in maps and notes when he’s plotting how to find Alina. Also before that, the way he’s poring over the notes at his desk and giving orders is 👌🥵

Him acting like a real General at all is simply amazing.

The fact that he trusts Luda with his life. That they have a whole intimidation routine set up around him purposefully getting himself fatally injured knowing she’ll heal him.

He looks like a vampire in the show and a fae in the books.

His favorite ABBA song is probably “Lay All Your Love On Me.”

Looks composed but that’s only a façade. Is actually an unhinged feral terror of pain and misery.

That scene where he tells the king she will remain in the Little Palace to train undisturbed and he puts his foot down. ON THE RED CARPET. the king’s carpet. and uses a commanding voice that’s just on the edge of an order…I’m surprised he didn’t get flogged for that. IMO nothing conveys the fine line he walks with those in power while wielding his own like this scene. Literally he should just be celebrated for this alone.

“‘Why won’t you leave me alone?’ I whispered one night as he hovered behind me while I tried to work at my desk. Long minutes passed. I didn’t think he would answer. I even had time to hope he might have gone, until I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Then I’d be alone, too,” he said, and he stayed the whole night through, till the lamps burned down to nothing.

Trapped a bunch of Saints in the Shadow Fold like a true amoral disaster villain. What an icon.

His barely concealed amusement and half hidden smile when Alina comes to put his kefta on. The way he finds Alina utterly hilarious and tries so hard to act like he doesn’t.

That small amused smile when Alina jokes about finding Volcra hilarious. Please he’s so adorable 😭

“‘I know what you feel when you’re with the tracker,’ he said. ‘I doubt that’ He gave a dismissive wave.” - My Malarklina obsessed self, vibrating at the edge of my seat: but what does it mean?!?

Mal and the Darkling’s entire fight in the Fold: dumbass on dumbass violence.

The way he stands with his back turned to Alina when she enters his tent the first time they meet and then does the slowest Godfather turn in history. 1999/10 - points removed for a criminal lack of cat petting.

“I may lead the second army, but the king is still the king.” - the delivery of that line. the implications, the history behind it and also the foreshadowing for his plans.

That slow turn face reveal in episode one though. Like okay we get it you’re pretty alkjsdflkj

Confused Old Man Face™ whenever Mal or Alina do anything remotely defiant in his presence.

How he tells Alina to come closer and she only takes the tiniest step and he doesn’t even react.

His little head cock whenever someone says or does something that just doesn’t vibe with him.

Darklina tumblr has now convinced me that the Darkling is a cat in human form.

“You’re an amplifier,” she said. He glanced at where Sylvi was pouncing on another helpless tree, oblivious, and gave a single, frightened nod. How could he have been so stupid? He would have to tell his mother now, and she would insist that they leave right away. If word got out, they’d both be in danger. Amplifiers were rare, hard to find, harder to hunt. Their lives would be forfeit. Even if they got away, word would spread. He could already hear his mother’s voice: Foolish, careless, callous. If you don’t value your own life, show some concern for mine. Annika touched his sleeve. “It’s okay,” she said. “I won’t tell.” Panic crowded in. He shook his head. She slid her hand into his. It was hard not to pull away. He should. He was breaking his mother’s fundamental rule for keeping them both alive. Never let them touch you, she’d warned him. - 😥 I just want to give him a hug all the time.

His strangled shout when Mal tackles him off of the skiff.

His smile when he’s summoning the sun. The expression on his face when he does so. Like I know I’ve mentioned this before but damn. If you ever needed a reason to celebrate him, this would be it.

“Shame, I’ll have to give that speech again now.”

The way he flips Mal over his shoulder in the Fold after Mal attempts to strangle him.

His little lecture on the Small Science to Alina when they’re going to meet the King. Info dump.

“You make it sound so easy.” “A bird makes flight look easy. But it was born to do so.”

When Alina looks at him for guidance on whether or not to remove her veil and he gives her a small nod.

The handhold in the throne room after Alina’s demonstration is absolutely precious, but it’s in a room full of people he should be keeping up a façade for and it’s so unwarranted and yet he does it anyway, I’m-

The way he says “welcome home, Ms. Starkov,” in the most tender voice I’ve ever heard and then goes “ok that’s enough emotions for one day” and then just straight up leaves without even a goodbye.

He has his symbol?? Sewn into Alina’s kefta??? bRo???!?!

Disaster Simp never gets tired of introducing Alina to other people or talking about how she’s the best thing that ever walked this earth.

The Darkling lying: honestly

“I have devoted my life to undoing the great sin of my forebearer, but I am never seen as the solution. Only as a reminder of the problem.” Sasha you were literally the problem. What a manipulative little shit. We love to see it.

The way he closes his eyes and kisses the coin before he makes a wish at the wishing well.

“I think the Grand Palace is the ugliest building I’ve ever seen.” - I love him your honor.

This man has the most intense lines for Alina. Like straight up I would have booked it when he said “you and I are going to change the world”. But then the head grab?! “I’ve been waiting a long time for you.” He’s so intense like sir can you tone it down a bit please I am begging you.

“I shall be right by your side.” / “We can do anything. Together.” / “For us.” / “You cannot do this on your own. And neither can I” / “I want you to know my name. The name I was given, not the title I took for myself. Will you have it, Alina?” - WEDDING VOWS

That scene in the war room when Alina comes to find him and he instantly drops his guard and lowers his arms and welcomes her with a soft voice.

“Am I bothering you?” “Not at all.” - girl you could be stabbing him in the chest and you still wouldn’t be bothering him.

This whipped disaster sounds like the proudest man on the planet when he talks about how much more his enemies fear Alina over him.

His shadows react to his emotions.

“YoUr’E nOt IvAn.” asjlkdfjs god he’s so embarrassing.

Local Dark Lord Sasha offering Alina the throne after she literally tries to kill him.

He gets so jealous of Mal.

Has a great relationship with his soldiers and his men. His men trust him implicitly and believe him to be an amazing general.

When he turns around after Alina puts the kefta on him and looks flustered/has to take a breath because she’s a lot closer than he expected. The way he’s breathless and literally can’t string a sentence together because he’s so distracted by her closeness.

His jokes are absolutely terrible.

GF: *jokes about throwing herself down the stairs to get out of an event* Sasha “no thoughts head empty only Alina” Morozova: haha I’d just have my healers heal you right back up again.

How genuinely touched he is by Alina admitting to wanting to help Grisha and Ravkans.

That scene in Demon in the Woods when he notices the intricate details of the politics in the Grisha camp after one meeting with the Elders. He has the Ulle pegged almost instantly.

Born to be a leader. Born to take care of others. Born to protect. Even in Demon in the Woods he’s protecting people. Even in Demon in the Woods he’s leading them and caring for them.

The way he cups his hands around Alina’s face when they’re kissing.

This man gets so starstruck by Alina walking into the Fete that he doesn’t even excuse himself from the King’s side to go to her.

Long haired Aleksander rights!

Ok I know the wig was kind of ugly but he looks pretty with long hair and I think it would look very good on him naturally.

The way he slams his hands together in the Winter Fete scene and instantly turns the room pitch black.

Literally any times he summons shadows is a blessing and we should all celebrate him for it. They are so beautiful. On god if I ever saw his shadows in real life I would be awestruck.

He asks Mal if he’s okay when they first meet.

The pure, barely contained fury directed at the Conductor for daring to harm Alina and kidnap his Grisha.

He always has to make a grand entrance.

This man is like a bloodhound when it comes to Nina. He is very invested in finding her and I feel like that’s never really talked about.

“I know exactly how she felt. The King’s soldiers treated me the same way. Because they knew- they knew that I was more important than any of them.” - the way he says it, like it’s something he has to remind himself of in his head constantly. a justification for the way he’s been treated, the fear he evokes in others. a way to protect himself from the hurt of being ostracized and reviled. arrogance and conceit as a defense against emotional harm.

Also the way his face instantly changes after that, like he’s said too much. vulnerability. lowering his eyes. shifting his eyes. literally just everything about this scene makes me love him all the more.

Dark carriage rides up to the Crows’ hiding place. Grisha circle the area as Aleksander steps from the carriage slowly, dressed all in black, floofy cloak high on his shoulders. Villain Entrance™

Him slowly pulling a knife out of his chest like it shouldn’t have killed him is hot as fuck and also totally badass. Big dick energy.

“I’ve had enough of your lies.” “And what lies are those?” - Alina, pulling out a fifty mile long scroll of grievances: Well, for starters-

This man is literally just an Alina Starkov compliments machine.

He cares so much about the Grisha and their protection. He loves Ravka and his people so much.

He had an entire cult dedicated to him.

“They would approach him. They always did. But he felt more anxious than usual. He’d stopped trying to make friends in the places he and his mother visited—there was no point when they moved on so quickly. Now he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.”

Save a Villain. Murder the King.

Openly admits to staging a coup like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He speaks so slowly. He moves so slowly. Everything he does has to have Purpose and Gravitas.

Theater Nerd™

He knew Nikolai for years and yet couldn’t recognize him as Sturmhond. We do stan an oblivious icon 💕

The Darkling after he gets his ass whooped in Siege and Storm: Mom can you please come pick me up? I’m scared!

He’s here to manipulate sun summoners and murder cities. And unfortunately he’s all out of sun summoners.

Would absolutely get drunk on real alcohol. This man thinks kvas is strong liquor.

Has his wrists exposed exactly one time in the most skin he’s shown all season and it’s when Alina visits him at night in the war room. WHORE!

Was too emotionally slutty and fell for Alina. RIP.

He’s passionate and cold and beautiful and hurt and twisted up in ways nobody could ever hope to understand and he’s stunning.

I would literally kill for this man 🖤✨

[futurewriter2000]

If I can't have you, nobody can - pt. 7

A/N: Bruh... I have such a headache but this is coming out quite well. I think a part or two and I'm done with this serie. Enjoy <3

XX

You had been stuck behind a book that you didn't much enjoy but still wanted to finish. It wasn't easy since it had too many uneccessary details that only dragged on through the page. You tried to follow it but your mind kept wandering off.

You could finish this book in a day. You knew that but it was so dull that was why it took you so long to finish it in the first place.

But as you were finally getting into it something flew on your desk.

A letter.

From James.

You felt your heart cut itself into two, three, billion of pieces as you stared at the envelope. Taking it in your hands, you wanted to rip it open but at the same time, you were terrified to see what was written inside.

Since your little encounter with James, the little sleepover you had, you had started to experience an odd feeling in your heart and stomach. Some minutes you thought of him, found yourself seeing his face, his hazel eyes watching you from the balcony. How he wrapped you in a blanket and how he took care of you like a true gentleman.

It made you smile and blush in the moment.

But he was a taken man. He was in love with Lily Evans and you had not spoken to any of them, besides James that night, in almost a year.

You let the envelope stay on the desk.

"I'll see what I want to do with it."

---

You've walked about hundred of steps down the kitchen floor. Pacing... contemplating and watching it as if it was watching you back.

You hadn't got a single clue why you were being so dramatic about it. It wasn't an acceptance letter, or a description of your death. It was a letter.

Nevertheless, you threw yourself at it and grabbed it. You opened it gently and you could feel your heart beating through your entire body.

"I'll pick you up at three." said the voice behind you, causing you to jump from your seat and point your wand at him. "Woah, woah, woah!" he lifted his hands above his shoulders and started to laugh.

"JAMES YOU- YOU FUCKING FUCK FUCK!" you bent over to catch a breath. "You can't just apparate into my home like that."

"It's a fancy one." he laughed, walking around the kitchen and looking around. "You have zero photos of you or your family. " he mentioned as he kept looking around.

"Yeah... well... we're not your ordinary family." you pulled yourself together and leaned back on the counter. "What-"

"Have you opened my letter just now?" he cut you off and narrowed his eyes at you. "I've sent it around 10am."

"I wasn't planning on opening it, to be honest." you spoke sincerely.

"Ouch." he placed his hand on his heart. "It wouldn't have mattered anyway. I'm here and we're going out."

"We're not going anywhere." you said, grabbing the letter and throwing it in a trash can.

"Oh, come on. We always used to sneak out-"

"No, James. You don't understand." you shot your head at him, furrowing your eyebrows. "You can't just come in here and pretend that we're those kids again- those stupid kids from Hogwarts who didn't spend a day apart. Maybe that kid would go with you right now but this-" you gestured to yourself. "That kid grew up into this. Into an adult, who has responsibilities to take care of."

"All of us have responsibilities." James said more seriously. "I just want us to reconnect again. I want to-" he stopped himself. Something stopped him but you hadn't take notice to it.

"You have Lily to go back to, James." you said out of the blue, almost broken as you did and he took notice of that. He spent years loving every single part of you. Don't you think he hasn't noticed whenever something wasn't right with you. He has. Even when you stopped talking to each other back in Hogwarts.

"You want me to leave and never return?" he asked and you looked at him with a bit of surprise. "Okay." he said and he could see your eyes pleading otherwise. "I'll go and never return. I'll go back to my job and work hard until I can afford a ring so I can propose to Lily. We'll have a big wedding and have a family, loads of them children..." he started to glare at you. "That's what you want."

"Yes." you spoke more of envy than truth.

"Fine but since we won't ever talk or see each other again because you have responsibilities, I might as well tell you."

"Tell me what?"

He stormed towards you until the two of you were inches apart. Before you could say anything, he spoke first. "I fell in love with you when we were both 14 years old and I was mad furious when I saw that you didn't give me a span of a second to notice it. And for those four years I had tried to catch your attention but your attention was always on somebody else. I was jealous, immensely and we stopped talking to you because I was in love with you and you were in love with somebody else. "

"No." you shook your head and took a step back because everything that he was doing sent the wrong chemicals to your brain. You couldn't think straight when he was so close, that the heat from his chest literally radiated onto yours and the breathing of his, furious and attractive, was the only thing you could hear. "I thought I was in love with him. I truly did and when a person gets attached to somebody the line between love and attachment is very blurred." you pushed him away. "I was in love with you." you shoved him again and he felt all of his power waver, his dominance fade and his eyes bulk out from surprise.

"Surprised?" you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest and smiling. "I was too when all I kept wanting was for you to look at me back in school. But you didn't. Because with Sirius it was fun and games and goofing around but with you shit was real. There weren't only butterflies and happiness, there were all sorts of emotions that I was so afraid of but then imagine you going for the red-head, a Gryffindor, of course. And I was furious and jealous and sad but I made it through and when you were not talking, Sirius still did. Sirius would look at me and he would still let me know I exist."

"YOU DID EXIST! YOU ALWAYS EXISTED INSIDE OF ME!" he started to shout.

"THEN WHY DID YOU LEAVE!?"

"BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU LOVED HIM MORE THAN ME! AND IF I COULDN'T HAVE YOU, NOBODY COULD!" he started to cry, breathing out a suffocating sob as if he had held it for years and years on. "I've been watching you love him for years. And as a kid, you don't process emotions as you do when you're older but it's coming after me." he continued to look at you as you stood there, speechless. "When you and Sirius talk about this stupid bond the two of you have, it pisses me off and then you tell me that you love me and all I am is confused. It makes me feel left out. It makes me feel like I'm not good enough and you're putting all your feelings and emotions of what that kid did to you. That kid didn't know any better and I can't go back and tell him to not fuck this up. He already fucked it up and I feel that no matter how much I apologised, you wouldn't forgive me. Don't you think I don't know that I hurt you? I am well aware of that and it tears me up inside but I'm trying to fix it and that has to count for something, (y/n). I'm trying but you're not letting me."

You stood there watching him sit down on the chair and take deep, calm breaths in.

"Alright." you said at last and he looked up at you confused. "I'll just get dressed and we'll leave."

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 4: The Star Spangled Man With A Plan

Summary: As the SSR deals with the aftermath of the attempted theft of the serum by Hydra, Steve finds himself side-lined until he’s offered a golden opportunity to help fight the good fight…but it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be as he quickly finds out.  

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N:  This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge.  As always, some creative liberties taken.

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

Star Spangled Rebirth Masterlist  //  Main Masterlist

Chapter 3

“Absolutely not!” Katie blazed her hands on her hips “That is NOT what Erskine was going to do.”

“Well Erskine isn’t here is he, in case it had escaped your notice.” Phillips bit back “And neither is the serum after the last vial of it was smashed out on Brooklyn Pier.”

Steve sighed, his head bowing a little.

“Erskine said that post the transformation, Steve was supposed to be monitored for twenty-four hours before he did any major physical activity.” Katie continued, “Given that, and what just happened, you seriously want to take his blood?”

“She has a point.” Howard stepped in. “Personally, I’m not sure it’s wise. Private Rogers should be given the rest of the day at least under observation as was the original plan, where we can run the physical tests Abe had been planning to do.”  He took a deep breath and bowed his head slightly.

“We owe it to him to do this right.” Katie spoke again, her voice loaded with emotion as she turned her eyes to the Colonel. Phillips gave a little groan, dragging his hand down his face “We can take the samples tomorrow.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Steve spoke, surprising himself with his sudden forthright nature and Katie glanced at him.

“No.” She said simply, turning back to Phillips. Steve’s eyebrows shot up and he turned to look at Howard who was silently chuckling at his sister’s bossy nature. He gave a little shrug of his shoulders, and then his brown eyes turned back to watch as Katie stood looking at Phillips expectantly.

“You know, I’m beginning to rue the day I ever asked you two to join this team.” The Colonel shot, and Steve watched as Katie turned to Howard, smirking. “And wipe that look off of your face right now, Agent.”

“Sir.” She nodded, and then everyone’s attention was taken by Agent Carter as she walked back into the room.

“We have it.” She nodded, “The HYDRA Sub. It’s in the Tech Lab.”

“You wanna wait until tomorrow to work on that too? Perhaps, give that time to recover as well?” Phillips looked at Howard who snorted.

“You know they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.” He arched an eyebrow as he looked at Phillips, “But I prefer to think of it as a metric for potential. You’ll be a great man someday, Colonel Phillips.”

Katie’s shoulders began to shake and she turned back towards Steve who was watching the scene play out in front of him, utterly perplexed. He still couldn’t get his head round Katie’s blatant disregard for her Commanding Officer’s authority. Howard, well, he could understand that a little more as he wasn’t in the man’s chain of command but Katie was. And she seriously didn’t seem to give a shit.

“Do we have any more intel on Schmidt?” Phillips turned to Peggy who blinked and looked at him.

“No, Sir. Nothing,” she took a deep breath, “but I think after today it’s safe to say that was another thing Dr. Erskine was correct about. Schmidt clearly has ambitions beyond simply being Hitler’s Chief Scientist. I think we should consider the fact that he’s equally, if not more dangerous.”

At that Steve heard Erskine’s words from the previous night as clear and as loud as if the man were speaking them to him in person. Schmidt must become that superior man.

He cleared his throat a little and felt all eyes in the room turn to him. “I think Agent Carter is right, Sir.” Steve took a deep breath “Last night, Dr Erskine was explaining to me about Schmidt. He said that Schmidt is convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, waiting to be found...”

“So he’s bonkers.” Phillips looked at Steve. “Terrific.”

“You know, we have forces out there fighting the Nazis.” Katie pondered for a moment, “Maybe the SSR needs to concentrate on HYDRA.”

Phillips looked at Katie, “You wanna chase HYDRA?”

She shrugged, “it seems logical to me. A lunatic Schmidt might be, but he clearly has a vast amount of followers that buy into the same rhetoric. That makes them dangerous.”

“And let’s not forget, HYDRA is, or was, Hitler’s deep science department. Now, Steve stopped them from getting the vial of Erskine’s completed formula, but who knows what else they have in their grasp.” Peggy added, “I saw a lot of things when I was under, a lot of things that if perfected could be disastrous. We chose to concentrate on Hitler as he had control of HYDRA. But, if Schmidt is going rogue as we suspect, then I’m afraid Sir,that as Agent Stark suggests, he could prove to be far more dangerous.”

“Just what we need,” Howard groaned, “two enemies to be fighting.”

“Oh pur-lease.” Katie looked at him. “Like you’re doing any actual fighting.”

“Shut up.” Howard glared at her, “You know as well as I do that I was plucked out for this instead of going to the front lines, just like you were.”

“The pair of you can take your squabbles outside.” Phillips looked at them, “I’m done. I need to brief Senator Brandt.” With that he turned to Peggy. “Get onto base and tell them they need to get into the President, inform him of our intentions so that he can approve them. You,” he then looked at Howard, “take a look at that sub, see what we’re dealing with from a technology point of view. As for you,” he looked at Katie, then to Steve, then back again. “take Rogers for whatever observations it was Erskine wanted to do. Then I suggest you all get a good night’s sleep. Back here at Zero-Six Hundred.”

With that he swept from the room leaving the four of them behind. Steve turned to Katie, his arms folded.

“You know, I don’t need a load of tests to tell you I’m fine. In fact, I’m more than fine. I feel, well, I feel better than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

“That maybe, but I’d feel better if you went along with it, please.”

“Oh, she’s serious, Rogers,” Howard smirked, “she said the magic word.”

At that Katie turned to glare at her brother, who held her gaze, his expression not faltering in the slightest. She threw him a positively filthy look before she turned back to Steve and he looked at her as she once more began to speak. “Erskine wanted to make sure that everything was okay, monitor the effects properly at least for twenty-four hours. We have no idea if it’s permanent, what it’s actually doing to you, whether the effects and transformation is still ongoing.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve held his hand up, giving her a nod, “Fine, I’ll submit for monitoring. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Could someone please find me something to eat?” He looked around, his stomach giving a huge growl at the perfect moment to emphasise his point, “I’ve never been this hungry in my life, and believe me, I’m no stranger to living with an empty stomach.”

**** It turns out that Steve’s appetite had increased exponentially too, which was to be expected considering his metabolism was working far faster than it ever had before. He wolfed down a huge helping of Potato and Hot Dog salad, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, an assortment of vegetables and a huge helping of apple pie. He had no idea where Katie had managed to conjure it from, and frankly he didn’t care either. All he knew was that in that one sitting he’d consumed more food than he usually ate in a day.

The rest of the day was taken up with him being poked and prodded and attached to all sorts of strange machines. Howard explained what each of them was for, but he wasn’t paying much attention. His mind was whirring, finally processing what had happened in the last couple of hours. He had been so sure about what was going to happen post getting the serum, that he’d be shipped out to help in the fight and now he didn’t have a clue where he was going to go, especially if they were now going to refocus their efforts on HYDRA. That said, it was all helping the war effort wasn’t it? HYDRA was a huge threat, if he was able to help take them down in any way, shape or form, then he was ok with that.

One of the doctors and Howard started explaining to him what the serum had done and at that point he tuned in to some of it, picking out the odd phrase like ‘super strength’, ‘increased stamina’, ‘enhanced metabolism’, ‘fast healing’, ‘super-sharp senses’, ‘memory expansion’, ‘logical improvement’. Howard looked at him and explained that as far as he could see, the transformation was complete, and was as permanent as they could hope. But Erskine had said that the serum wasn’t infallible, therefore how long the effects would last into the future they didn’t know. Forty, maybe fifty years or so. Steve wasn’t particularly bothered about that though, by the time that happened he would be well into his sixties or seventies and would he really care then?

Katie arrived back just as the Doctor who had been dealing with him had instructed the nurse to remove the heart monitor form his chest.

“Hi.” She smiled and Steve turned to face her, fulling intending on greeting her back, but before he could, the Doctor made a little noise of surprise.

“What is it?” Howard asked and Steve hastily turned towards them, wondering what was wrong.

“His heart rate just spiked.”

Steve gulped and hastily looked away from Katie as Howard turned to face him. His eyes flicked from Steve, to his sister who was stood in the doorway, a bashful smile on her face but to her credit she held her brother’s gaze as the man gave a groan.

“Seriously?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She mumbled, stepping into the room. “You done treating him like a guinea pig?”

“Hey, you were the one that insisted on the monitoring!” Howard pointed at her.

“Yes, because it was what Abe wanted,” she shrugged, “and I wanted to make sure everything was okay before you guys started stealing his blood like a pack of starving vampires.”

“Well you needn’t panic.” Howard arched an eyebrow. “The transformation seems to be text book. Your Super Soldier is as ready as can be.”

“Fuck you.” Katie shot back, and Howard gave a chuckle as Steve let out a little groan at the man’s teasing.

“That bad an idea huh, dating my sister?” Howard turned to Steve and he flushed immediately.

“That…no, I didn’t say that, I mean, not that we…”

“Ignore him Steve, he’s being a jerk.” Katie rolled her eyes. “And if he knows what’s good for him he’ll shut up before I knock his teeth out.”

“Threat received and understood, Kiddo.” Howard held his hands up as the Doctor bustled around and handed Steve back his t-shirt.

“You can leave now, Captain Rogers, but we would like you to stay here tonight.”

“Why?” Steve frowned as he pulled the SSR logo t-shirt over his head.

“Because I want to monitor your levels at complete rest.” The Doctor smiled. “Humour me, please.”

Steve shrugged as he swung his legs off the bed. “Sure.” It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be.

“Your stuff is being brought over from the barracks.” Katie smiled softly. 

“Any idea on where I’ll be going after that?” Steve stood up carefully, taking his time to pull himself up to his new full height.

Katie shrugged. “I suppose it depends on what Colonel Phillips and the President agree. I suspect we’ll head over to London HQ if we’re going after HYDRA in Europe, but we should find out tomorrow morning.”

“So, we have a free evening?” Howard looked at Katie.

“Well, sort of. Unless you want to get a head start on that submarine thing.” She waved her hand at the door.

“I don’t need a head start.” Howard shrugged, somewhat arrogantly, “I’m a genius, I’ll crack it tomorrow.”

Katie rolled her eyes, “You know I really admire your modesty.”

Howard chuckled, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, what I was suggesting was that if we do have a free few hours, how about a drink? I got a bottle of vintage Macallan stashed in my lab.” He paused and Steve watched as his shoulders slumped a little and he took a deep breath before he looked back up at both Steve then to his sister. “Me and Abe had been saving it for tonight."

Katie took a deep breath before she walked over to her brother who wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, gently kissing the top of her head. Steve looked away for a second, not wanting to intrude on the moment as he watched the doctor and nurse leave the room.

“We should have a toast to him,” Katie spoke, her voice cracking a little as she stepped away from Howard. She turned to Steve and smiled, “he’d have been proud this had worked.”

Steve nodded a little side smile pulling at his mouth as he remembered the banter he and Erskine had shared about the schnapps. With a nod he looked at Katie, the smile spreading further across his face. “He owed me a drink.”

*****

It was a strange night.

The three of them had shared a glass each of the smooth whiskey, which Steve had thoroughly enjoyed. It had tasted so smooth yet crisp. And he wasn’t sure if that was down to the fact it was stupidly expensive and high end, or the fact his taste-buds simply worked better. Howard hadn’t raised the issue of him and Katie again, for which Steve was glad. If he had been asked, he couldn’t say how he would have answered because he wasn’t entirely sure what they were. A casual fling? A hook up? He knew what he wanted it to be, but once again he was brought crashing back to reality. They were in the middle of a war. It was impossible.  

Despite the myriad of thoughts and emotions running through his mind, Steve slept better than he had ever slept in his life. His chest wasn’t bad, he didn’t struggle for breath when he lay down flat meaning that for the first time he could remember he didn’t need to sleep propped up. Yet, on the other hand, he felt like he was waking up every five or ten minutes. The slightest sound or movement made by the various SSR staff nurses and guards milling around the small medical wing of the lab woke him thanks to his now enhanced, fine tuned senses. The Doctors and Howard had assured Steve that whilst it might take a while but once he was used to the heightening of his senses it would start to feel ‘normal’ to him in a way and he would learn to use them and appreciate them.

With a yawn, he cracked his head side to side as he raised it off the pillow. Whilst he didn’t know what time it was thanks to the lack of any natural light in the room, he knew that this time he wasn’t getting back to sleep. He climbed from his bed, stretched and waited for the usual pain to shoot down his back, but nothing. He then stood up, a little too fast and pitched forward before he steadied himself and drew up to his full new height, squaring his now broad shoulders back as he stood tall in his new posture. Again, Howard had told him he would soon learn to adjust his movements to compensate for the fact that he no longer needed to put as much effort into them. No sooner had he done that, a nurse appeared with his breakfast and she was followed by Agent Carter who wished him a good morning and then handed him a formal Army Uniform in his new size. With a soft smile and a thanks, he took it before laying it down on the bed, admiring the green wool and crisp shirt. 

“When you’re ready then we’d like to take the blood samples.” Peggy spoke softly, “but there’s no rush. Take your time.”

“Rather just get it over and done with Ma’am.” Steve said politely and truthfully. The sooner he was done being prodded, poked and stabbed the sooner he could find out what was going on.

With that in mind he ate, washed up, dressed and was ready in half an hour flat. He was led out of the bunk room he’d been sleeping in and down the corridor back to the observation room he’d been in the previous day where he was instructed to roll up his sleeves and lay back as they proceeded to siphon off his blood. When they had one bag full they then hooked him up to another, and then another, the Doctor instructing him to tell them if he felt light headed but Steve had a suspicion that the enhancements to his body would simply enable him to generate more as fast as they took it. That said, by the time the third bag was full he was bored. Peggy seemed to sense it and she turned to the doctor who nodded and instructed everyone that they were done.

“Think you got enough?” Steve asked, somewhat sarcastically.

“Any hope of reproducing the program is locked in your genetic code.” Peggy replied simply, “but without Dr. Erskine, it could take years.”

“He deserved more than this.” Steve replied a little sadly and he meant it. The serum had been Erskine’s life work and now there was nothing to show for it as the last vial of the serum had been smashed on Brooklyn Pier.

“Well, if it could only work once, he’d be proud it was you,” Peggy looked at him.

Steve glanced at her, feeling a little embarrassed at her praise but he didn’t dwell on it and neither did she. Instead, she told him that once he was ready she’d take him down to the main lab were Phillips and Katie were talking to Senator Brandt about the plans for the SSR going forward. Keen to understand, he quickly sorted his shirt out.

He followed Peggy into the lab, his ears picking up the conversation as they entered.

“Speaking modestly, I’m the best mechanical engineer in this country,” Howard shrugged. “But I don’t know what’s inside this thing or how it works.”

“So much for not needing a head start, huh?” Katie teased and Howard glared at her before he turned back to Phillips.

“We’re not even close to this technology.”

“Then who is?” Senator Brandt demanded.

“HYDRA,” Phillips responded simply. “I’m sure you’ve been reading our briefings.”

“I’m on a number of committees, Colonel,” Brandt replied simply, completely unabashed at Phillips tone.

“HYDRA is the Nazi deep science division.” Katie explained

“It’s led by Johann Schmidt,” Peggy picked up, “but he has much bigger ambitions.”

“HYDRA’s practically a cult,” Phillips stated, “they worship Schmidt, they think he’s invincible.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Brandt asked and at that point Steve took a deep breath, finally he was about to find out what he was going to be doing.

“Spoke to the President this morning. As of today the SSR is being re-tasked.”

Katie and Peggy exchanged excited glances and Peggy looked back at Phillips, seeking clarification as she asked, “Colonel?”

“We are taking the fight to HYDRA,” Phillips looked at the woman. “Pack your bags Agent Carter. You too, Agent Stark,” he turned to Katie, “you’re flying to London tonight.”

Steve hesitated for a second, but when Phillips didn’t turn to speak to him and inform him where he was going, he hurried forward a little.

“Sir, if you’re going after Schmidt, I want in.”

“You’re an experiment,” Phillips shot back. “You’re going to Alamogordo.”

Steve frowned a little, but then pressed some more, he wasn’t letting this go.

“The serum worked,” his voice rose a little.

“I asked for an army and all I got was you. You are not enough.”

Katie wheeled round to look at Phillips, her face angry, “Oh, come on Sir, that’s-”

“I have put up with your insubordination for long enough. I don’t give a shit what you think, Agent Stark.” Philips snarled, “keep pushing me and so help me God, I will have you taken straight outta this unit and you’ll be back home typing up the Letters of Condolence.”

“But-”

“Enough!” Phillips snapped. “Now I suggest you disappear and pack.”

Katie took a deep breath, an angry noise escaping her throat as she turned and stormed away. Steve watched her go before he opened his mouth to argue some more with Phillips, but the man had already moved away.

They wanted to send him to a fucking research plant? Seriously? This was ridiculous.

“With all due respect to the Colonel, I think we may be missing the point,” Senator Brandt spoke to Steve and he turned to face the man. “I’ve seen you in action, Steve. More importantly, the country’s seen it.” Brandt turned to his aide. “Paper.” His aide obeyed, showing them the paper in his hand. It was today’s copy of the ‘The New York Examiner’ which bore the headline "Nazis in New York - Mystery Man Saves Child" along with a picture of Steve holding the car door in front of him.

“The enlistment lines have been around the block since your picture hit the newsstands," Brandt smiled at Steve. “You don’t take a soldier, a symbol like that, and hide him in a lab.” Steve felt a surge of hope flood his system as the Senator continued. “Son, do you want to serve your country on the most important battlefield of the war?”

“Sir, that’s all I want,” Steve replied honestly.

“Then, congratulations,” The Senator held his hand out for Steve to shake. “You just got promoted.”

**** Steve’s hopes were short lived when Brandt explained what he had in mind - using Steve to boost recruitment and bond sales. But he knew he was getting nowhere with Phillips, so he decided to take the role and could only hope that it would lead to something else. Besides, it was important to gather support. The Forces needed all the financial and recruitment help they could get, and he could play a key part in that.

So Brandt said.

“Hey…”

Steve looked up from where he was packing the few items he’d unpacked from his trunk and looked at Katie.

“Oh, hi.” He said, turning back to his packing.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she continued and Steve took a deep breath, straightening up.

“Who told you?”

“Good news travel fast, Captain.” She stressed the last word and Steve had to actively stop himself from rolling his eyes. “That’s a pretty good promotion considering you’ve been a soldier all of a week.”

“Yeah, well, it was too good an opportunity to turn down. In fact, it was the only opportunity to turn down.” He watched her as she took a deep breath, opened her mouth, before closing it again. And then Steve really did roll his eyes, “if you’ve got something to say, spit it out, Katie.”

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me,” she snapped back.

“I’m not being-”

“Yes, you are,” she folded her arms. “It’s not my fault Phillips won’t let you in on this. I’ve tried, believe me, but for whatever reason he’s not moving.”

“He’s not moving because he doesn’t like me.” Steve replied simply.

“Well, that’s his loss," Katie countered. “And what’s with the sudden display of self-pity?”

“What?”

“This, moping around, acting all deflated.”

“It’s easy for you to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well you’re off, over there. Fighting the fight but me, well, looks like I’m gonna have to play ball with Senators doesn’t it?”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, I do!” Steve’s voice rose and Katie blinked a little, but besides that she showed no signs of having registered his angry tone. “What choice do I have?”

“There’s always a choice, Steve.”

“Oh, yeah?” He snorted. “And my choice here is what? Go to the damned White Sands Proving Ground where they can run more tests on me? Keep me locked up like some kind of lab rat?”

“I didn’t say they were always good choices.”

“Well what do you think I should do huh?”

“That’s not for me to say.” Katie shook her head. “But I can tell you one thing....”

“What?”

“That I have faith in you to do what you feel is right, and continue to be the good man I know you are.” Her words were soft but they hit Steve like a freight train and he swallowed, suddenly aware of how down right shitty he’d been. “And if you’re telling me that it feels right that you go where Brandt wants you to go then…” she shrugged. 

“I have to try.” Steve replied.

“Well, in that case, I’ll say what I came to say in the first place," she gave him a soft smile, “good luck.”

Steve took a deep breath and sighed, “Thanks. Look, I’m sorry I snapped. I just, well, truth be told I’m a little jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, all I ever wanted was to be a soldier and to fight on the front lines. Like my dad did, and Bucky.” He sat down on the side of the bed, “And I agreed to this procedure because I thought it was my ticket there, ya know?”

“I get it,” Katie nodded, crossing the room to sit beside him. “And I understand how frustrated you feel, believe me.” He turned to look at her to see her glancing down at her hands before she looked up at a spot on the wall opposite them. “I just can’t say anything to make it better, other than repeat what I said before. I have absolute faith and belief that you’ll do what you think is right. And that’s all any of us can do.”

Steve looked straight in her eyes as they flickered across both of his and he took a deep breath, her words echoing round his mind. Throughout this, she and Erskine had been the two people who had utterly believed he was the best man for the job so to speak. Now Erskine was gone, and he was about to be separated from her as well. And it pained him to think about it, as he realised that he was going to miss her, for more than the simple reason that she’d been a friend to him. 

“You know I’m sorry we met the way we did,” his thoughts blurted out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Katie frowned, “what?”

“No, I err…” Steve sighed and then gave a snort. “Guess the serum didn’t enhance my ability to talk to a dame without completely making a total screw up of it.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Katie smiled, “you do a decent job most of the time.” She paused as Steve gave a little huff of laughter before she turned her body a little more towards him, “what’s on your mind, Soldier?”

“I meant, I’m sorry that we met when we did. And, you know, not sooner.” He shrugged, looking down at his hands, “or maybe even later, when all this is over.”

“If it ever is,” Katie sighed and Steve raised his eyes to hers as she licked her lips a little. “Steve, I’m not sad I met you when I did. Quite the opposite actually. It’s been…” she paused for a moment before she smiled “…a little ray of hope in an otherwise very gloomy world.”

“Hope?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “you know, a reminder that no matter how ugly the world seems or how much it changes, it’s still a beautiful place.”

Steve thought on her words for a second, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“What?” She asked as she noted his expression.

“You just remind me of my mom,” he smiled. “She was always a 'look on the bright side' kind of woman. No matter what life threw at us, she was always reminding me there were people far worse off.”

“She sounds like a smart lady.”

“She was,” Steve smiled with a short nod. “kind, compassionate. Just more ways you remind me of her.”

He didn’t miss the faint flush on Katie’s cheeks as she looked down at her hands and then raised her eyes to look at him, “I’m honoured.”

Steve took a deep breath, “I meant what I said the other night before we, you know.” He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat felt like a tennis ball. “I like you, more than like you in fact.”

“Kinda sucks we’re about to be separated doesn’t it?” Katie looked at him, her eyes sad and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“But, I’m a firm believer that if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.” Katie shrugged and at that Steve gave a scoff. She turned to him, a playful look on her face. “What, you don’t believe in fate?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “you make your own luck.”

“Right.” A little side smile broke on her mouth, “you did a good job with that when you happened to be at the Expo the same time Erskine was.”

“Lucky coincidence.”

“And what was me getting accosted by a load of rapscallions in Brooklyn?”

“A not-so-lucky for you coincidence.” Steve shrugged.

“You know what the definition of the word coincidence is?”

“Not word for word, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“Sass bag.” Katie nudged him with her elbow and he chuckled, “but you’re right, I am. It’s a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent casual connection.”

“And?”

“Fate is the development of events outside a person’s control.” Katie looked at him, her eyebrow arched, “just as a coincidence is beyond a person’s control. And if fate is what’s gonna happen to you no matter what you do, and coincidence is merely a matter of being in the right place at the right time, then what if you’re in the right place at the right time because it’s simply meant to be.”

Steve looked at her, utterly sideswiped at her sentiment. Whilst he wasn’t sure he agreed, the logic was surely there and the fact she’d laid it so bare, been so open with him knocked him for six. He saw her eyes flicker to his mouth again, and in a sudden surge of confidence he gently moved, taking her face in his hands and pulling her to meet him in a soft, gentle kiss that was loaded with meaning.

“Yup,” she sniffed a little as she pulled away and Steve was both surprised and horrified to see the tears in her eyes as she pressed her forehead to his, their noses bumping a little, “this definitely sucks.”

“Write to me,” he whispered, his thumbs swiping away her tears and she smiled, nodding, before she caught his lips again, this time the kiss was deeper, and Steve had to fight back the groan that was bubbling in his throat as he felt her tongue slide against his. They were interrupted by a loud noise outside and Katie pulled away, dropping her gaze a little before she sighed and stood up.

“Stay safe, Soldier,” she smiled, her hand gently cupping his cheek. “I’d hate for you to come back horrifically disfigured.”

At that Steve snorted, “would it put you off?” He teased, “I didn’t think you were that shallow.”

“I’m not,” she smiled as she made her way to the door. “It’d just be a helluva waste, a face like that.”

With that she was gone and Steve felt his smile fade, the warmth in his chest replaced by a hollow feeling which engulfed his entire body, as the realisation spread across him that he had no idea when he would see her again.

If indeed, at all.

****

November 1943.

 “I already volunteered, how do you think I got here?”

“Nice boots, Tinkerbell…”

“Hey, Captain! Sign this”

The heckling from the assembled crowd rang through Steve’s mind as he sat dejectedly on the side of the stage, the miserable, cold rain matching his mood. His hand moved absentmindedly, shading in the drawing he’d sketched in his book. A very apt sketch of a Circus Monkey on a Unicycle clutching the damned shield he’d been given as part of his costume. It turns out the “battlefield” that Senator Brandt had been referring to was nothing more than a grotesque road show across the US and various other places on the Allied Map encouraging people to buy war bonds.

“The Senator's got a lot of pull up on the hill. You play ball with us, you’ll be leading your own platoon in no time.”

Yeah, a "platoon" of chorus girls and confetti cannons, complete with ‘Adolph’ himself. Steve had knocked him out countless times, and was still no closer to getting in on the real action.

He’d travelled all over the place during the last four months, the tour had been successful, and there was no denying that it was helping the effort in a way. “Bonds buy bullets, bullets kill Nazi’s bing bang boom.” But this wasn’t what he had signed up for. Nor did he believe for one second that this was what Dr. Erskine had in mind for how his serum would be put into use.

He’d made a few propaganda films, all part of the course according to Brandt who had then had the bright idea to send Captain America on the USO tour, to attempt to lift spirits. So here he was in Italy, five miles from the front line, having finally made it overseas as a soldier, only to be stood on a stage in front of the men he should have been fighting alongside, being pelted by rotten fruit and vegetables instead of bullets.

It didn’t help that he knew the SSR were fast ramping up their efforts on HYDRA, having been reassigned to somewhere in mainland Europe, not unlike himself at that point in time. He’d had a few letters from Katie, but he had no idea where she was. She didn’t go into details, which was to be expected, she couldn’t and her mail always reached him through the usual military channels. He’d tried to remain positive in his letters back to her, focussing on nights where had a particularly good show, meeting and greeting his ‘fans’ afterwards, carefully omitting details about the women that now seemed to be throwing themselves at him. Be it in bars, back stage or simply as he emerged from the venues; there was no shortage of ladies vying for his attention. And had he been that way inclined, he could have taken any number of them dancing and then back to wherever he was staying that night, but the fact was he didn’t want to.

Because no matter how pretty or forthcoming the girls were, his mind and heart remained with a certain green eyed agent.

It was ironic, when he thought about it. The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, the song dubbed him, yet Steve felt as if he had never had less of a plan in his life.

“Hello, Steve," a familiar voice spoke in his ear and Steve jerked his head up in surprise and turned, doing a little double take as he looked up at Katie.

“Hi,” he instantly felt his heart rate pick up dramatically in her presence, like it normally did as his eyes laid upon her. She was dressed in standard Army green wool pants that were tailored for a man with wide legs and long length that she tucked in to her well-worn mid-calf boots which were brown leather with lace protection straps and looked as if they had happily trudged through mud and been beaten until they broke in and needed new soles. Her unit issued jacket was the same colour green as her pants, but the harsh canvas material gave a weighted appearance across her shoulders as it was buttoned and zipped it up.  Beneath it, she wore her wool tie and collared shirt, no doubt tucked into her trousers for a crisp clean look.

Steve noted how it was a stark (pun intended) difference to the previous smart pencil skirt and jacketed uniform he had seen her in at the SSR base which Peggy, who stood to her left, was still sporting. But then again, the two women were very different, and knowing Katie as he did, she wasn't one to conform and who knew what she had been up to whilst on the front line.

All it did was serve to make Steve feel even more self-conscious and ridiculous in his own outfit, designed for dancing and prancing around not active combat. 

“What are you doin’ here?” He asked, his eyes flicking to Peggy before they returned to Katie again.

“Officially we’re not here at all,” Peggy smiled. “That was quite a performance.”

Great, they’d seen it. His shoulders slumped at little as he turned away.

“Yeah. Uh… I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more uh, twelve.”

“Probably less full of jerks as well,” Katie snorted and Steve looked at her, his mouth curling into a slight smile as Peggy let out a sigh.

“You know what soldiers are like. Present company excepted of course,” Peggy quickly corrected herself as Steve had cocked any eyebrow at her sweeping assumption, before she turned to the other agent. “I warned you-“

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Katie replied with a roll of her eyes.

Peggy took a deep breath, before she turned back to Steve, swiftly changing the subject. “I understand you’re "America’s New Hope"?

“Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit,” Steve chanted off, the words flowing out of him the same way they did whenever he spoke to someone about the Roadshow and he grimaced as he realised just what a damned puppet he had become.

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?” Katie teased and Steve took a deep breath.

“At least he’s got me doin’ this,” Steve felt a sudden need to defend his decision to take the role in the first place, especially after their conversation before he had left. “Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.”

“And these are your only two options?” Peggy looked at him, nodding to his sketch book which was still open in his lap. “A lab rat or a dancing monkey?”

“You were meant for more than this, you know?” Katie added gently, and Steve looked at her, hesitating as his sarcastic reply died in his throat. Instead he looked away, a little dejected. She was right, he had been meant for more that was the whole point of him taking the serum. But even after he’d been turned into this Super Soldier, been given such power and capability, he still wasn’t enough.

“What?” Katie pressed gently, having noticed his hesitation.

“You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I’m wearing tights.”

Before either of the women could respond there was the sound of a horn honking which diverted their attention. Steve turned to watch as an ambulance pulled to a halt outside the medical tent. The back doors were flung open and several injured soldiers were pulled out of the back on stretches, nurses and medical staff rushing to help as they disappeared through the drapes of the tents, the walking wounded being helped down and aided as they limped behind.

“They look like they’ve been through hell,” Steve commented, a deep feeling of sadness at the sight of the injured men flooded his chest.

“These men more than most,” Peggy commented and Steve turned to look at her, a little confused as to what she meant.

“Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano,” Katie explained. “Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-oh-seventh. The rest were killed or captured.”

Steve felt his chest tighten, as if someone had trapped it in a vice and his head momentarily span as the meaning of her words sank in.

“The one-oh-seventh?” He breathed out, begging it to be wrong. But Katie simply frowned as she gave a nod.

“What?”

Steve swallowed and looked around before he rose to his feet. “That was Bucky’s unit.” He turned to face her, his voice sounded alien as he almost choked on his words. Katie’s face slid into a look of recognition, her mouth falling open.

“Barnes?” She asked and Steve nodded, as he ran a hand down his face, once more glancing round desperately hoping for Bucky to appear and rip into him for his ridiculous outfit. But he knew that if Bucky had been in that audience, he would have already found him. Which meant that he was either amongst the injured soldiers in the tent or…

“Who’s Barnes?” Peggy asked form behind him.

“Steve’s friend from home,” Katie replied gently as Steve turned back to look at the women.

“I need to check if he’s there,” Steve nodded towards the medical tent.

“Not a good idea,” Peggy cut him off. “You saw their reaction to you before. If you go waltzing in you’re going to upset them.”

“I don’t really care,” Steve spluttered

“Well you should,” Peggy looked at him sternly.

“I have to know if he survived!”

“Okay, look…” Katie took a deep breath, and he tore his eyes away from Peggy who was still glaring at him to look instead at the other woman. “Phillips will have the list of the-“ she hesitated, clearly searching for the best word “-casualties. We can ask him.”

“Phillips is here too?” Steve frowned, although he wasn’t sure why that had surprised him. Decision made, he turned and started running across the camp shooting a, “come on,” over his shoulder as the heavy rain pelted down onto them all.

He busted into the tent, “Colonel Phillips,” and the man looked up, a disgruntled expression spread across his face before he took a deep breath and looked back down at the papers on his desk as Steve strode purposefully towards him.

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man with a plan, and what is your plan today?” Phillip’s voice was laced with sarcasm but Steve didn’t care. At the moment he had one thing on his mind, and that was Bucky.

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, son.” Phillips snapped, looking up at him once more and Steve ignored his angry tone, his stubbornness showing through as he continued to pres.

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.”

“You two and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy,” Phillips pointed to both Agent Carter and Katie in turn.

“Can’t wait," Katie sassed back and Phillips’ head shot up to look at her as he once more fixed her with a stare that could freeze over hell, but Steve didn’t have time for this.

“Please tell me if he’s alive, Sir. B-A-R…”

“I can spell,” the Colonel stated harshly as he tore his eyes from Katie. He looked at the papers in his hand and with a sigh dropped them to his desk and when he spoke his voice was a little softer. "I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry." 

Steve swallowed, a feeling of cold washing over his body as the Colonel's words sank in. It might sound familiar but there was a chance it could be another Barnes. It was a common name, after all, and even if it was Bucky’s name on the letter, he could be missing assumed dead, not actually confirmed dead. Peggy and Katie had told him before that there were still men from the unit trapped behind lines. 

"What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he’d really had time to consider them properly.

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war.”

Steve frowned, “but if you know where they are, why not at least…?"

Colonel Phillips stood up, the expression on his face belonged to a man who had just lost his final bit of patience. "They're thirty miles behind the lines, through the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save." He moved around the desk to stand in front of Steve, his hands falling to his hips as fixed him with a stern and challenging glare. "But I don't expect you to understand that, because you're a chorus girl."

Steve took a breath, the anger coursing inside him at the dig that Phillips had just made, but before he could say anything, he heard Katie scoff besides him. 

“And who’s fault is that?”

Phillips turned to Katie, his face contorted in anger “You are this close…” he held his thumb and forefinger up a fraction of an inch apart.

Katie’s jaw clenched and her chin tipped up defiantly as she glared back at the man. Steve, having had chance to compose himself slightly now the spoke in an attempt to draw the attention back away from her and onto himself.

“I think I understand just fine.”

“Well then understand it somewhere else.” Phillips turned away. “If I read the posters correctly, you got some place to be in thirty minutes”

As he spoke the last words, Steve took note of the map which lay on the table and he noticed a flag marked with an H which caught his attention. And then, he made his decision.

The Star Spangled Man finally had a plan.

“Yes, sir. I do.”

***** Chapter 5

[thecaptainhelm]

Shut Your Mouth Pt.2

hahaha, daminette part two, wasn’t a one shot, gn gn gn.

Marinette sighed as the shower warmed up, rolling her neck and relishing in the light feeling of accomplishment. Ever since Hawkmoth had been defeated, a mere two days ago, things had been tense. Hawkmoth, now known as Gabriel Agreste, was arrested along with his assistant Nathalie Sancoeur who had since retired as Mayura the year before. It was a stroke of luck to discover that the Guardian had the ability to forcibly renounce a broken Miraculous. Something Gabriel hadn’t known, granting them extra time as he futilely tried to ‘fix’ the brooch. While that happened, she managed to finally convince Chat to at least keep him as a suspect if not out of suspicion, then to actually strike him from their list. It didn’t take long rack up evidence against him, especially after learning from the Bats of Gotham. 

The battle was quiet, in the early hours of the morning, where the city forcibly cut the power to the Agreste mansion, and it only took one Venom for each while they slept defenselessly. It took only a few minutes to find evidence that he was at least working with Hawkmoth, and when they found the miraculous pin and brooch, it was confirmed that he was, indeed, Hawkmoth with Nathalie working as his henchwoman Mayura.

Soon, with what was probably the fastest trial of the century, Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur were declared guilty and sentenced to serve life in prison and an insane asylum respectively. It had only shocked her for a moment that Mayura pleaded guilty and asked to be sent directly to rehab for mental help, by reason of insanity wrought by grief. What did surprise her was that she was the one to take the miraculous and give them to the Agreste couple as an anniversary gift, ultimately setting off a chain of unforeseen consequences.

That was a whole other cake she didn’t want to bake just yet, so she decided to finally just take a moment to breathe for what felt like the first time in five years. 

So it was only normal that her smartwatch chimed on the hook of the shower caddy, a picture of a frowny eagle glaring right at her. She cursed her luck, yeah, no breaks was still her usual routine. It must be real hard for the universe to break out that particular habit.

Then she remembered that she set this particular picture and ringtone for the one person who had never called.

Robin, the vigilante that she might have, kind of, definitely made an enemy of.

Who was also her crush, so that was just. Great.

In her defense, she was a human being, and human beings were capable of amazing feats. It was just that her amazing feats were more amazing bouts of stupidity. Seriously, why did she do it? Just where did her common sense escape to make her think that was even a remotely good idea, because she wanted to go there and never come back.

She had kissed-- no! She made out with Robin, the most notoriously ill-tempered member of Batman’s team. The only reason he didn’t deck her in the face was because, because, well she didn’t know! Was it mercy, a misplaced feeling of pity, perhaps?

No, actually, it was more likely that he was frozen stiff with rage. Marinette couldn’t blame him, heck, she’d be angry too, suddenly getting passionately smooched in the middle of livid rant. 

She had planned on giving him her contact information for the longest time, since they'd come to the understanding that they only wanted to do what was best for everyone, the kind of understanding that only leaders could have. And to maybe get closer to him as much as professionalism allowed. So, it stood to reason that she had to go ahead and ruin that, too. She really couldn’t believe herself sometimes, who randomly kisses someone, hands them their number, and then trots off back to work? Marinette Dupain-Cheng apparently.

In fact, it was about time he called. She had pretty much an entire year to prepare herself for what was sure to be a concise and frigid rejection, maybe even a “Stay for away from, lest I stab everyone in this room and then jump out of a window out of utter disgust”? She might as well get it over with and then move on to be alone for the rest of her life.

She wiped the water out of her eyes and squinted at the text message, before jumping out the shower with a loud curse. She hurriedly dried off and put on her clothes, before heading to the Miracle Box, rereading his message.

Emergency evac, one person, requesting Pegasus’ portal twenty kilometers horizontally above sea level precisely fifteen minutes after this message. Coordinates attached.

The message was sent ten minutes ago. How long was she catastrophizing for?!

Max was partying along with the rest of Paris while she took a breather in her art studio. Even with the full fifteen minutes she wouldn’t be able to find him in time. Shit, would she even be able to transform in time?

She grabbed the glasses from the box and Kaalki appeared in a proud flash. 

“No time, there’s trouble,” she panted. “Ready?”

“Hmph, of course,” Kaalki tossed her head. “Let’s go, shall we?”

“Kaalki, transform me!” She eyed the time, two minutes left. She memorized the coordinates as she searched for a suitable place for him to land, and realized she was going to have to catch him in her storage closet.

One minute left. She opened the door and cleared space in the center of the room.

Thirty-five seconds. She stood on an old chair that she moved into the center of the room.

Twenty seconds, and she called, “Voyage!” and threw the portal up towards the ceiling.

Zero. She braced for impact and caught a body that plummeted through in a free fall.

“Ow,” she closed the portal with a groan, amidst the shattered pieces of what used to be a pretty sturdy chair.

“Don’t complain, it could have been worse.” A deep voice rasped.

Wow, to think she missed him, that asshole.

“Shut up, Robi-- oh my god your arm! Get up, getupgetupgetup!” She hauled him up as gently as possible, annoyance giving way to concern.

Robin was, putting it lightly, a mess. He had lost his mask, his eye was swollen shut and his face was bruised with cuts all over, and he was sticky with blood practically everywhere she looked. It was his arm that she was most concerned about, however. It was set in a splint, but he must have been in a rush because it was set wrong, his thumb facing perpendicular lyaway from his body.

“I am fine,” he sagged into her, weary. “I just need a place to stay for the night.”

“If you weren’t so grievously injured, I’d throw you out for that,” she remarked. “But guess what? It’s your lucky night monsieur, and I’m a trained field medic.” Robin looked at her, maskless, and she had to dart her eyes away from his maskless face.

“Oh, so Ladybug finally started replacing her subpar lineup? About time, either she benched them or Hawkmoth would kill them at some point. They were woefully incompent.” Yep, this was definitely Robin, no doubt about it with that attitude.

She called off the transformation and was somewhat pleased when he reflexively jerked his head away. She pulled him into a princess carry and made her way back to the bathroom, inwardly delighting at his reaction. She would never let him live this down.

“It’s me, Robin. Ladybug. Pegasus couldn’t make it, so you’ll have to do with me instead of a random stand-in.” She raised her brow, not that he could see it.

“Unless that bothers you, Boy Wonder?”

“...I’m not,” he mumbled.

“Hm?”

“I’m not Robin anymore.”

What. What.

“What?”

“I’ve retired, effective as of nine months ago today, Robin’s cape has been hung up for the next generation.”

Relief didn’t come yet. “Oh, so you’ve taken on a new mantle? Or are you finally the next Batman, though it would take some time to fill those shoulders. Literally, I mean that literally, um.” She observed his downcast expression and once again started walking to the bathroom. When had she stopped?

“I’m not taking over anything,” he said sullenly. “I can’t. Not after what I did.”

“Come on, it couldn’t have been so bad,” she opened the door with her heel as she backed them towards the stool by the sink. She set him down carefully, taking full stock of his injuries.

“It was. Batman’s cowl has always represented a strict moral code, one that I’ve always...struggled to adhere to.”

Marinette bit her lip as she kneeled in front of him. He didn’t say anymore, and she couldn’t think of anything to say. She sighed and brought out her med kit from the towel cabinet. She was always like this with him.

With Robin (now not Robin?) she had always drawn a blank. She could read his emotions somewhat well, had a good grasp on his moods, and could have genuinely insightful conversations with him. It was only at crucial moments like this that she struggled. Even with Adrien she had always known what she wanted to say, but Robin was different. Everything about him screamed “one chance only” and that caused her mind to go blank. It was so unbelievably frustrating that she could scream.

Marinette handed the glasses to Kaalki and nodded towards her purse hanging on the door handle. The kwami zoomed towards it and soon disappeared into it with the miraculous.

“Robin,” she called gently. He didn’t move. “I’ll have to cut your shirt off, okay? I need to see where the blood is coming from.”

“It’s not mine.The blood.” He kept his gaze away as she froze.

“Well, we’ll have to reset that arm,” she tried again. “It’s not...it’s not looking good, to say the least.”

He looked towards his mangled right arm and nodded. 

It took some time to undo the splint and she tried not to think about where he had been for him to only have rotted wood and prison rags on hand. She cut his shirt off at the sleeve and down his middle, pulling it off and exposing a painful canvas of mottled bruises, scrapes, and cuts. She handed him her towel and he stuffed it in his mouth without a word. She gently untied the splint.

“Are you ready?” She gazed at him resolutely. He nodded and braced himself as best he could.

“On my count, one, two--” She re-broke his arm a count early on purpose.

“Arrghh! Ffuk!!” He jerked out of her grip.

“Hold still!” He spat out the towel and glared in response.

“Mizq dhiraei allaeaynat 'aw aidbitha!!!” She only understood ‘rip’ and ‘arm’ but she got the gist of his screaming.

“Alright it’s done now, I’m setting it, so stop moving,” She couldn’t help but sigh under his vicious scowl.

“Tsk. Be grateful that I can barely discern your features Ladybug. You’re on my shit list and I don’t feel like kicking your ass today.”

“Wow, thanks for saving me Ladybug, I could have died if it weren’t for you!” Marinette couldn’t help but snark at him.

“...tsk!” Yep, that was as good as she was going to get in his condition.

After years of fighting akuma victims she was able to observe the complex and hidden emotions of her opponents and the civilians that she rescued. And right now, her experience was telling her that Robin had more than his pride ruined. His self-confident, courageous, and taciturn nature seemed to be regressing as he fell back into what was probably a self-defense mechanism. For him to be like this instead of exhausted in his current state told her that he must have been through a lot since she last saw him.

She started to gently clean the blood off and noted the bruises underneath definitely came from an intense melee battle. Most of them were in places that made her cringe just looking at them. At least he doesn’t have any other broken bones, or stab wounds. Lucky him.

Robin put an ice pack to his face in the meanwhile and wouldn’t look in her direction.

It was quiet for a while. “So, what should I call you, then?” And she had to open her big fat mouth, didn’t she? Now it was awkward. It was awkward, and he hated her, and she was never speaking again, ever.

“Damian.” Uh oh.That didn’t sound like a moniker.

“Um, nice code name?” She started disinfecting his cuts and scrapes, trying not to panic.

“I no longer require such aliases.” Ok, process that later, heal Robin now. Process. Later.

“Ro--, Damian, uh, well,” She sighed.  “My offer still stands, you know?”

He made a quiet noise. 

“Last time I saw you, I mean. I had left in a rush,”-- after kissing you senseless-- “but I’m always here to listen if you want to talk about what happened.”

Robin, or Damian now, she still wasn’t used to that, froze. His brows furrowed and he strangely went red in the face, before sighing, slumping against the sink.

“I...the blood’s not mine. It hasn’t been my for a long time, but it might as well be for how long I’ve carried it. I’m not a good person so much as to blame myself completely, but I do recognize some of the fault as mine. I’d gotten help, and I was making progress, but it wasn’t enough. I started falling back into old habits and I hated it. I tried and I failed, and I kept trying and failing for months and I…” He gained a look of despair, the first real emotion she’s seen on him since he dropped in.

“I couldn’t do it anymore. I just kept disappointing everyone and I hated it so much,” he dug his fingers into his matted hair.

“So, I left. I decided to go on a journey to try and repent, and it was working, at least I thought it did. But, then I had stumbled upon a Shadows base and I…” He peered unseeing at the floor.

“It was like I lost all sense of reason. I lay siege to the entire facility and found my way to the next base. It all turned into an endless cycle, all the way until I reached headquarters and inadvertently met up with high ranking members of the Justice League, teaming up to diminish their power. We were successful, but a candidate for the position of the Demon’s Head activated the self-destruct module. Everyone was scrambling to get out and suddenly my mind felt clearer than it had ever been.” He took  a deep breath and Marinette moved closer to offer some comfort. He leaned towards her gratefully.

“The Justice League had already had an escape route, but the Shadows were in disarray for some reason. After I was sure my old comrades were out, I locked all the doors, and dived down to a ceremonial bathing chamber.”

“And that’s where I came in,” she whispered. I think I’m starting to like him more than I should. What is wrong with me?! Who made me this way?! She had some complaints in regards to that.

“You saved my life,” he inclined his head in an informal bow. “Thank you, Ladybug.”

“...Marinette.” She croaked suddenly. She was left reeling from his info dump and her intense, romantic feelings. So, why not go for a confession? 

Damian whipped his head up in disbelief.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Enchanté, Damian.” She smiled at his bewildered state, wiping away a bit of blood under his chin. She opened her mouth to say more, but didn’t get the chance.

Damian leapt up, furious. “You fool! I knew you were a space cadet, but I didn’t think your brain drifted beyond the stars! How utterly moronic!”

“Wait, why are you so mad?!” She panicked. She kind of had a spur of the moment idea to kiss him on his split lip, but that was looking less and less likely to happen.

(Damn it.)

“You told me your name!” he shouted.

“Yes, and you told me your’s?” She retorted. 

“Have you forgotten Hawkmoth?! Your enemy that can read the minds of the emotionally disturbed should he decide to possess them!” He started to hobble out of the bathroom, still half-treated and mostly in pain.

Oh. 

Oh!

“I have to leave, now! If I can stay calm long enough to reach the trains then I’ll be moving too fast for a butterfly to suddenly get me.”

“Uh, Damian?”

“No, it might already be enroute to someone else and might even already be on board,” He winced and stumbled on the tassel rug in the hallway.

“Woah, hang on a second Damian,” she grabbed him before he could fall, but he pulled out of her grip.

“We don’t have time for this, I can guarantee that I would be one of the worst akumas you’ve faced in your hero career, nevermind the insider information I hold within my mind.”

“Yes, but listen to me,” Damian moved towards the small sitting area, not listening to her. 

Again.

“This safehouse should be around one hundred kilometers from the city limits, you’re safe for now, but Hawkmoth’s estimated rate of growth was--”

That’s it!

Marinette grabbed his jaw and slammed it closed. She had had enough.

“This isn’t a safehouse, we’re in my art studio,” she snapped. She could see the rage begin to build to new heights in his eye.

“No, shut your mouth, and listen!” A vein in his forehead started to pulse, but he didn't move to speak.

Good.

“Hawkmoth has been defeated as of last week, and the trial was concluded a couple days ago. Going by what you told me, you've been out the loop for almost a year, so you don’t know that my team and I had closed in on Hawkmoth’s trail some time ago and were able to build a solid case that’ll go through in a court of law,” She carefully let him go.

“So, you’re safe, I’m safe, and Paris is safe too.” She’d already started to calm down in the middle of her explanation, and idly noted that she should probably take an anger management class.

And sign up for therapy. Lots of it, preferably.

Damian nodded slowly as he rubbed his jaw and she couldn’t help her wince.

“Sorry, did I handle you too roughly? Come here,” she started to pull him back towards the bathroom. He resisted.

“No, it’s fine, no damage just from that much force,” he tugged his arm away but she quickly moved behind him and began to push him through the bathroom door.

“Well, I’m not done treating you, so get back in there.” He grabbed the door frame and pushed back, and her calm demeanor left as quick as it came. Was it even truly there to begin with?

“I said,” she picked him up and threw him back on the stool where he grasped for stability.

“Come here.” She leaned in close to his bruised face, and wow, the one eye that she could see was so very, very green. “I’m not done with you, yet.”

“...okay,” he whispered. He kept his head down.

It didn’t take long to finish disinfecting the rest of his wounds, and soon she started applying ointment to the worst of his bruises. She had enough, but she was definitely going to be restocking in order to play his nursemaid for the next week or so. She rose to her feet and started packing away her kit.

“I’ll give you some pain meds for the night, I’ll leave you to take care of the injuries under the rest of your clothes. Come find me in the kitchenette. I’ll make something for us, though it won’t be anything fancy.”

“That is fine.” Marinette frowned at the strange husk in his voice. Did someone try to suffocate him? Why hadn’t she noticed until now?

She kneeled beside him and reached around him for the water bottle she had left in there earlier, but noticed him twitch and start to blush. Did he get a fever too?

She observed his red face and clear, but dilated eyes. Merde, did she embarrass him from earlier? She knew he had a large ego, but it was his own fault for being stubborn.

“Here, get yourself some water from the sink,” she handed the glittery black bottle to him and hurriedly strode out of the bathroom, calling,

“Holler if you need me!” 

Completely aware of the flustered state she left Damian in. Though not for the reason she thinks, at least.

[anika-ann]

Warm Up My Heart

(...So It Never Gets Cold Again)

Type: One-shot to a series (part 1 & part 2),  Avenger!reader AU.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader              Word count: 2500

Summary: Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. Boy wants to propose soon… boy slips. You know the drill. In which Tony builds a training super-bot, Steve gets a boo-boo and the rest is history.

Warnings: mild injury and violence, swearing, cheesy af fluff

A/N: There weren’t al that many of you reading this series, but since it’s a rewrite/editing stuff for me (something I have time for), I’m bringing it back! I’ve been neglecting it long enough... 

Series masterlists (aka previous parts) linked above

────── ·❆· ──────  

“Captain America’s been brought to his knees. They found his weak spot and he went down all too easily for the world’s first superhero; literally crumbled on the ground, unable to get back up-“

Steve groaned, miserable and extremely annoyed at the same time, and you chuckled, which earned you a wounded look from the supersoldier.

You retreated from his right foot to muffle the sound escaping your mouth with you palm. You couldn’t help it; as much as you felt sorry for Steve, troubled by the fact he was in pain, you knew it wasn’t serious and Tony’s dramatic commentary was just too hilarious.

“Tony, just leave him be. And stop making me laugh,” you pleaded, suddenly back to seriousness. This was no fun; you did need to concentrate. “I might as well freeze his foot off if you keep distracting me.”

It was the truth; you had spent the past minutes trying to cool down Steve’s ankle, which had been sprained. All three of you were now in one of the training rooms of the compound, you and Steve sitting on a bench, while Tony hovered above you. Steve’s leg was resting over your knees, so you could reduce the swelling before it could fully develop.

The injury was totally Tony’s fault.

Being the generous friend and maniac he was, he had invented a special kind of a training super-bot – which had earned him both sharp glares and amused looks. It wasn’t half bad; it actually was a fair competition for Steve, which was saying something. It probably had something to do with the fact Tony had seen Steve in action more than a few times, learning his fighting style; programming his knowledge into the software of the bot meant one less advantage for Steve. Plus, Tony had used some special enforced material-

-which was exactly the problem. It was enforced; too much. And not enough.

When Steve kicked with his full strength, his foot had just… pretty much stuck in the robot’s torso. He had been lucky it hadn’t torn his flesh off and he had ended up only like this – with sprained ankle and few deep scratches which had already stopped bleeding. Incredibly lucky even considering that his instinct had been to get his foot out immediately, so he could go on with the fight; he hadn’t been exactly gentle and patient with freeing himself. Honestly, you were surprised his limbs were still attached.

Now he couldn’t even put his full weight on his injured leg. At least the robot had helped him hobble to the bench, because between your built and Tony’s willingness to talk being way bigger than his willingness to help with Steve’s weight (muscles were heavy), Steve would be still on the ground. Well, limping uselessly on one foot anyway.

“And get me an elastic bandage. Hush! Go make yourself useful!” you ordered, directing Tony towards the door, motioning with your hand in an ‘off you go’ gesture.

“Cap, your girl is bossy and has no respect for elders,” the billionaire complained, but turned on his heels and headed to get a first aid kit. The bot stood by the end of the bench dutifully, not moving an inch.

“I beg to differ, she treats me just fine,” Steve called out after Tony, winking at you as you brought your hands back.

You focused on tuning your powers to the right temperature, hovering only few inches from his skin. You sighed when the door clicked behind Tony and went back to work.

“You okay?” you whispered, glancing up just for a moment before returning your full attention to his injury.

“I’ve had plenty of worse.”

“That’s neither an answer or comforting, you know.”

“I’m much better now,” he admitted softly and you could hear the tender smile in his voice.

It warmed your heart and filled your chest with pride. You knew he meant it as a compliment; and he was not complimenting your powers, not the tool you had been given, but he was praising you for being so skilful with it.

You managed a tiny smile. “I’m glad.”

Your mind raced as you thought of how you could make it even better. You were no doctor; you barely knew the RICE rule, of which you only had two things covered by now; Elevation and Ice. The third was on its way (hopefully, but one never knew with Tony) and the fourth was… probably out of question, because make Steve Rogers rest was way beyond anyone’s ability. You closed your eyes, focusing on the things you actually could control.

Steve apparently understood your need to concentrate, or had nothing to say, because he didn’t utter a word. But the silence was comfortable, kind even.  You tried to convince yourself his eyes were roaming around the training room; in reality, you were ninety-nine percent sure he was watching you work and despite all the time spent together, all his efforts to chase your insecurities away and proving countless time that he trusted you… you felt a bit nervous.

Too small under his intense gaze, you could tell that hot blood rushed into your cheeks. It was ridiculous. And it probably made Steve’s lips curl up in a grin, because he had mentioned more than once that he found your embarrassment endearing and entirely adorable. He could always tell.

“Marry me,” he pleaded softly and the shock of those two words spoken threw you off so hard your concentration levelled to zero in an instant.

The temperature you had been treating his ankle with so carefully dropped low beyond the desired one as if you flipped a switch.

You felt the burst of energy from your hands more than you heard his pained hiss and you quickly snapped your eyes open, withdrawing your hands in one swift movement.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, staring at his foot with horror, masochistically examining the damage you had done – a frostbite no doubt, because of course you had done some serious damage-

-well… actually you hadn’t, because apparently your reflexes had improved greatly with time, but the skin had definitely less healthy colour than before and-

“Oh Steve, I am so, so sorry, I swear I didn’t meant to-“

“It’s… it’s okay,” he stuttered, sounding more embarrassed than hurting.

You were relieved; then again, when had Steve Rogers ever admitted he was in pain?

You couldn’t find yourself to look up to his face nevertheless, too horrified and scared. What have you done?

Also… what the hell had he just said? You had imagined it, right? He hadn’t… hadn’t…?

“It wasn’t your fault. That’s completely on me. You said Tony not to distract you and… I shouldn’t have— I shouldn’t have said that.“

You looked up at him, biting your lip, suddenly convinced that he actually had proposed. Just like that. You didn’t give yourself time to let it sink in or to… indulge the feeling. Because he just apologized for saying it. You would bet all your money that he did regret it now, for multiple reasons.

It kinda stung that he had confessed to it out loud, though.

Okay, fuck it, it hurt like hell, because even when you had never talked about it, it burned down your very soul that he… that he would ever regret asking.

He groaned, covering his red face with his palms.

“I---you’re… injured. Probably confused by the product of Tony’s brilliant ideas. It’s okay, let’s just… forget that, okay? We all say strange things when we’re in pain, things we regret-“

You hated that your voice trembled at the last word and Steve’s hands immediately went down, his blue eyes piercing right through yours. He seemed more horrified than you now.

“I’m sorry. That came out completely wrong. All of it. Oh god…. I do regret it, alright? I’m sorry, Snowflake. I really shouldn’t have said that. Not… not like this,” he added gently and your heart positively stopped as his gaze found you, a new twinkle in his irises.

No, there was nothing new in it. You had seen it before, occasionally. In moments that only belonged to you two, when you were alone or it felt like you were alone, the world around disappearing. When you would catch his gaze across the room while laughing with someone else. When you let your powers draw flowers on the windows of the compound, creating winter decorations that were not exactly allowed in the military space.

Admiration. Tenderness. Dedication. Love.

Your lips parted in surprise as he kept observing you, the emotions changing on your face, flashing with realization. Wait. That was… what? Your breath hitched.

Steve gave you a very nervous smile as he lifted his leg from your lap, setting it back on the ground.

“What are you-“ you snapped from your strange trance immediately, wanting to stop him from whatever he was about to do, because you weren’t finished and goddammit, he needed to keep his leg elevated-

-and not to lower himself from the bench on one knee.

Right in front of you.

As if he was proposing.

Like, really proposing.

You watched him with disbelief when he planted himself into the infamous position, injured ankle in an awkward position, and you would swear that he could hear your heartbeat echoing within the walls of the gym. You sure as hell did, your blood pounding in your ears and your head positively spinning.

You simply couldn’t believe your eyes. You were sure your pupils were wide enough to reduce your irises to nothing.

Steve swallowed loudly, looking up at your face from under his eyelashes, his eyes hopeful and wide as well. At this point, you couldn’t breathe, your ribcage way too small for your swelling heart.

This was happening.

Oh shit, this was happening. Steve was… Steve was-

“Snowflake,” he whispered, his voice heavy with emotions and something that you would swear was a hint of fear, “you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. Whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been and despite your powers, your presence-- you are warm like sunshine. I love you. I love you with my whole heart and… please, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

You stared at him, his eyes shining with hope, his Adam’s apple bobbing as you weren’t able to utter a single word and left him waiting for your answer.

You felt like an idiot for leaving him in anticipation and with doubts--- because you loved him. God, you loved this man so much and couldn’t even speak despite being sure with what you wanted to say more than anything.

So you blinked away the solitude tears that gathered in your eyes, because you were a regular sap, and nodded. His face lighted up like Christmas tree – no matter how cliché it sounded, it was the first analogy that came to your mind and it was very true.

Hesitant smile appeared on his lips as he stared at you with same disbelief that must have shown on you own face. “Yeah?”

You chuckled, covering your mouth with your palm before you could let out some very embarrassing sound. You nodded furiously, again and again.

“Yeah,” you breathed out finally and Steve shamelessly grabbed you and pulled you down at him. He fell on his ass, so you both basically crushed into the bench, but you couldn’t help but laugh like a madwoman as he was trying to balance the both of you, you being nestled in his lap all of sudden.

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flush against his own body, immediately freeing your hair from the messy bun you wore – just so he could nuzzle his face in it. You could feel his smile against your cheek and then he placed a quick kiss there, then lower, then on your jaw, and then finally found your lips. He kissed you, letting you taste the delight on his tongue, his breath whispering of gratitude, pleading you to say it again.

“Yes,” you repeated simply and earned another kiss, this time longer, passionate and tender, breath-taking and making you feel like flying.

The butterflies in your stomach flipped their wings like crazy – kissing Steve was always an amazing feeling, but this time… you were kissing Steve, your fiancée. He just proposed, he wanted to marry you and you were about to marry him. Excitement tingled in your fingertips, restless and wonderful and your body melted into his, wishing to just merge into one.

You only realized his body was not exactly okay when he retreated an inch, allowing you both to catch your breath and your brain to reboot. Seeing his twinkling eyes, you swallowed the question about his well-being, simply not having the heart to ruin the unexpected, peculiar and pretty magical moment. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyelids falling shut.

“That... that is not how I was planning on doing this,” he whispered, sounding a bit embarrassed, and the corners of your lips twitched, rising even higher. You hadn’t realized you had automatically started smiling the moment your lips had been freed, but apparently you had.

“Are you saying there was a plan, oh my Star-Spangled Man?” you replied with voice as soft as his, teasing him lightly.

“Uhm… I mean… I was working on it, at least. It involved having the ring actually on me instead of having it lying in our room and all that.”

The ring. The ring that was in your room at the moment. He clearly wasn’t just throwing the words around. He… he actually had been planning a proposal. You heart fluttered at the confession.

“But then Steve Rogers’ impulsiveness got in a way and… here we are,” he revealed sheepishly and you didn’t think you could be more moved.

It wasn’t just him thinking about it – it was him losing it in a moment so ordinary like this as if he couldn’t wait anymore.

“Good. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

His expression turned curious and a bit confused. “Good?”

“Yeah. It’s Steve Rogers I want to marry after all.”

The most gorgeous smile appeared on his lips and you couldn’t resist – you kissed him again. A silent promise of kissing him every day for the rest of your lives.

────── ·❆· ──────  

Tony Stark was standing behind the transparent door to the gym, facing away from the two of you, but peeking over his shoulder; an equivalent of subtlety. A grin that was not even a little silly played on his lips and he was not tearing up at all.

Who was he kidding, he was really glad he had added the AV system to his super- bot. Because the record of what definitely looked like a bit strange proposal was something he would miss greatly.

He smirked at the kit in his hand, opened the door for a slit, quietly slipped his hand in – completely unnoticed by the oblivious lovebirds – and left the supplies there.

When he closed the door again soundlessly and made his way out of the area, he couldn’t but mutter under his breath.

“About damn time, Rogers.  About damn time.”

────── ·❆· ──────

Next series (Five Times Steve Felt Betrayed and the One Time He Felt like He Was Betraying You)

S.R.masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────  

So, I had my thoughts on some more storyline (sort of) and got to the point where I felt sorry for not coming up with a concrete plan of how a proposal implied in the next story went. I couldn’t resist and had to come up with some, because reasons.

Apparently, I’m a sucker for pain the concept of proposal going way differently than planned...

Thank you for reading... I hope your week started off well!

[collarious]

lessons that i’ve learnt so far

I haven’t been on this space for a couple of years. Revisiting this space is like a step back into a part of my past self - the part that’s most anxious and depressed. When life got too difficult, I would leave traces of struggle in the form of words. Punching the ‘post’ button always felt so strange — it wasn’t cathartic, it never truly encapsulated what i felt, it didn’t exactly make things feel better — but at least those thoughts were out of the mind and contained in a space. 

Recently, I’ve rediscovered this space, reread my entries and realised how far I’ve come through the years. I guess I want to summarise the things that I’ve learnt so far, in this journey of life and hope to continue practising. Excuse the shabbily typed out brain dump. 1. Be humble, learn about yourself + the world

The brain is extremely tricky and stubborn. More often or not, we probably don’t know ourselves as much as we think we do. We tell ourselves narratives of who we are, especially when life is hard and we’re not feeling good.

Know yourself, in and out, through objective means. Cross-reference like crazy using personality tests (Attachment styles, MBTI, enneagram etc), horoscopes, ask your friends what they think of you. Constantly question: who am I really? 

Read and research repeatedly — read self-help + non fiction books / listen to talks + podcasts by renowned professionals that debunk your understanding of you and the world. I personally love watching Youtube vlogs of people I look up to - especially when I’m feeling down. The change in perspective is almost always refreshing.

From there, you can break the narratives that you tell yourself everyday. Knowledge is powerful, it keeps us humble and open. 

This journey of self-discovery has no end. But that’s the fun of it, because we are always changing as time goes. We’ve got to understand ourselves because no one else will do it for us. Truly understanding ourselves really is the first step to knowing what works for our lives.

2. Acknowledge your shortcomings, but celebrate everything As we learn about our strengths and weaknesses, there comes a point when we have to accept our shortcomings. Accept, then take action to improve on the things that we can. There’s going to be so much inertia at times - some days feel fine while others make you feel like you’re back to zero. 

Track your progress, celebrate the small wins. Encourage yourself constantly, be your biggest cheerleader. 

3. Your feelings are not you. Feelings come and they go.

Feel. Do not push away your feelings, even though they are so intense & you feel like you want to disappear. 

I find solace when I think of them as: 1) The sky. Yes, the weather changes, there are seasons. Rainy days, sunny days. But the blue sky can be there, at the core we are that beautiful calm sky. 2) The ocean. The waters are always different. Waves roll in as they roll out. Despite how the ocean behaves, you can’t help but think how beautiful and vast it is.

It’s so easy to attach yourself to intense feelings as they come, because you feel every ounce of it so deeply. The brain naturally attaches to painful feelings much easier than the good ones - its really our job to try to rewire its preference against negativity.

Fear, anxiety, sadness - they are real. But so is love, grit, resilience and all the wonderful emotions we have the pleasure to feel. 

4. Take good care of yourself. Find healthy coping mechanisms.

You are your biggest asset – believe it with all your heart. 

It can be really difficult — sometimes life feels so intense, there’s so much destructive energy, and a lot of times we take it out on ourselves if not on others. My question is — will you ever want the people you love to do the same thing, to suffer? No.

Instead of doing things that simply distract you, replace them with things that uplift you. There are things that are proven to work if you stick to them — journalling, working on what you love, exercising, meditating, hanging out with people who support you. Healthy coping mechanisms look different to everyone and they change over time - so find the things that help you feel better and hopeful about the future.

Taking care of yourself; no one is going to take that job and frankly, do we really want to pass that responsibility on to someone else? When we take care of ourselves, we then have the strength to tend towards those we love. 

5. Set boundaries

Boundaries. If only they taught that in school. 

Know your triggers. Set boundaries that protect you from your triggers. Communicate your boundaries, make sure to uphold them. Find people who respect your boundaries. 

Yes, there are some people who will shit on your boundaries, gaslight you blabla. Do not give them the power to affect your reality. Distance yourself if you can. Cut toxic people out of your life. If you can’t, try to do what’s within your means to not let them take away your energy.

We have a limited amount of energy in a day. More when we are having a good day, less when we wake up to a bad one. Where you place this energy, is where you choose your focus. Focus on the good, always.

6. Learn to plan

Some people are natural planners, but others are not due to their personality or the environment that they grew up in. It took me so many years to understand the power of planning, even more to learn how to do it. I’m still learning every day.

When you’re someone with emotions that come so intensely, planning takes a whole lot of stress off for your future self. Having a plan can also feel like hope. When the mind is depressed, at least there’s a routine to follow. Learn to plan the way that works for you + your life. Kickstart this by learning how other people plan (Youtube, I love you so much) & tweak it to your liking.

So many days when I felt like doing absolutely nothing. But doing absolutely nothing will only make you feel even more shit and its just a downward spiral.

Do the easy shit first, feel good about the easy shit, then do a slightly harder task and another and another. Remember to congratulate yourself always, even if that task is ‘eating a proper meal’. 

Oh yes, there are gonna be days when you can’t do anything even after planning .. when you absolutely can’t, don’t beat yourself up for it. Rest, recharge, try again.

7. Get up and learn

There’s going to be many bad days + failures. It’s life, we just got to accept that. But really what matters is getting up and learning from them. There’s always something positive to be learnt. A mistake not to be repeated. If your failures look similar, its life giving you the same lesson.

Getting up and learning is resilience, grit and humility. There’s nothing more romantic than this. 

8. You are not alone. Seek help.

We can do a lot, but sometimes there comes a point when we are just struggling way too hard. Ask for help. Reach out. A friend. A lover. A therapist.

You’ll find love and support in ways that you can’t imagine, plus the strength to live again, fuller + brighter.

9. The Breathe

It truly blew my mind when I learnt about the power of breath through yoga and meditation. When the mind is going absolutely batshit insane, don’t think - just breathe. There’s no point adding fuel to the fire. Breathing and being present in the moment - it recentres, grounds and resets.

Learn about the breath and how it affects you + the world around you. Sometimes — when I stop to properly breathe, I feel connected to the universe again. It’s simple but endlessly interesting.

That’s all I can remember for now. May peace and joy be part of your every day.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 4: The Star Spangled Man With A Plan

Summary: As the SSR deals with the aftermath of the attempted theft of the serum by Hydra, Steve finds himself side-lined until he’s offered a golden opportunity to help fight the good fight…but it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be as he quickly finds out.  

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N:  Once again, huge thanks to my beta readers and plugger of mind gaps where I was blocked… @southerngracela and @icanfeelastormbrewing

Any mistakes are my own. I’ll probably spot them once posted but, whatever!

SSR Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist 

“Absolutely not!” Katie blazed her hands on her hips “That is NOT what Erskine was going to do.”

“Well Erskine isn’t here is he, in case it had escaped your notice.” Phillips bit back “And neither is the serum after the last vial of it was smashed out on Brooklyn Pier.”

Steve sighed, his head bowing a little.

“Erskine said that post the transformation he was supposed to be monitored for twenty-four hours before he did any major physical activity.” Katie continued, “Given that, and what just happened, you seriously want to take his blood?”

“She has a point.” Howard stepped in. “Personally I’m not sure it’s wise. Private Rogers should be given the rest of the day at least under observation as was the original plan, where we can run the physical tests Abe had been planning to do.”  He took a deep breath and bowed his head slightly.

“We owe it to him to do this right.” Katie spoke again, her voice loaded with emotion as she turned her eyes to the Colonel. He gave a little groan, dragging his hand down his face “We can take the samples tomorrow.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Steve spoke, surprising himself with his sudden forthright nature and Katie turned to him.

“No.” She said simply, turning back to Phillips. Steve’s eyebrows shot up and he turned to look at Howard who was silently chuckling at his sister’s bossy nature. He gave a little shrug of his shoulders, and then his brown eyes turned back to watch as Katie stood looking at Phillips expectantly.

“You know, I’m beginning to rue the day I ever asked you two to join this team.” The Colonel shot and Steve watched as Katie turned to Howard, smirking. “And wipe that look off of your face right now Agent.”

“Sir.” She nodded, and then everyone’s attention was taken by Agent Carter as she walked back into the room.

“We have it sir.” She nodded, “The Hydra Sub. It’s in the Tech Lab.”

“You wanna wait until tomorrow to work on that too, you know, give that time to recover as well or…”

“You know they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.” Howard arched an eyebrow as he looked at Phillips, “But I prefer to think of it as a metric for potential. You’ll be a great man someday, Colonel Phillips.”

Katie’s shoulders began to shake and she turned back towards Steve who was watching the scene play out in front of him, utterly perplexed. He still couldn’t get his head round her blatant disregard for her Commanding Officer’s authority. Howard, well, he could understand that a little more as he wasn’t in the man’s chain of command but Katie was. And she seriously didn’t seem to give a shit.

“Do we have any more intel on Schmidt?” Phillips turned to Peggy who blinked and looked at him.

“No, Sir. Nothing.” She took a deep breath, “But I think after today it’s safe to say that was another thing Dr. Erskine was correct about. Schmidt clearly has ambitions beyond simply being Hitler’s Chief Scientist. I think we should consider the fact that he’s equally, if not more dangerous.”

At that Steve heard Erskine’s words from the previous night as clear and as loud as if the man were speaking them to him in person. “Schmidt must become that superior man.” He cleared his throat a little and felt all eyes in the room turn to him.

“I think Agent Carter is right, Sir.” Steve took a deep breath “Last night, Dr Erskine was explaining to me about Schmidt. He said that Schmidt is convinced that there is a great power hidden in the Earth, waiting to be found...”

“So he’s bonkers.” Phillips looked at Steve “Terrific.”

“You know, we have forces out there fighting the Nazis.” Katie pondered for a moment, “Maybe the SSR needs to concentrate on Hydra.”

Phillips looked at Katie, “You wanna chase Hydra?”

She shrugged, “It seems logical to me. A lunatic he maybe, but he clearly has a vast amount of followers that buy into the same Rhetoric. That makes them dangerous.”

“And let’s not forget, Hydra is, or was, Hitler’s deep science department. Now, Steve stopped them from getting the vial of Erskine’s completed formula, but who knows what else they have in their grasp.” Peggy added, “I saw a lot of things when I was under, a lot of things that if perfected could be disastrous. We chose to concentrate on Hitler as he had control of Hydra. But, if Schmidt is going rogue as we suspect, then I’m afraid Sir, that as Agent Stark suggests,  he could prove to be far more dangerous.”

“Just what we need.” Howard groaned, “Two enemies to be fighting.”

“Oh pur-lease.” Katie looked at him. “Like you’re doing any actual fighting.”

“Shut up.” Howard glared at her, “You know as well as I do that I was plucked out for this instead of going to the front lines, just like you were.”

“The pair of you can take your squabbles outside.” Phillips looked at them, “I’m done. I need to brief Senator Brandt.” With that he turned to Peggy “Get onto base and tell them they need to get into the President, inform him of our intentions so that he can approve them. You…” he then looked at Howard, “Take a look at that sub, see what we’re dealing with from a technology point of view. And you…” he looked at Katie, then to Steve, then back again. “Take Rogers for whatever observations it was Erskine had set up. Then I suggest you all get a good night’s sleep. Back here at Zero-Six Hundred.”

With that he swept from the room leaving the four of them. Steve turned to Katie, his arms folded.

“You know, I don’t need a load of tests to tell you I’m fine.” He looked at her, “In fact, I’m more than fine. I feel…well, I feel better than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

“That maybe but, well, I’d feel better if you went along with it, please.”

“Oh, she’s serious Rogers.” Howard smirked, “She said the magic word.”

At that Katie turned to glare at her brother, who held her gaze, his expression not faltering in the slightest. She threw him a positively filthy look before she turned back to Steve and he looked at her as she once more began to speak. “Erskine wanted to make sure that everything was okay, monitor the effects properly at least for twenty-four hours. We have no idea if it’s permanent, what it’s actually doing to you, whether the effects and transformation is still on going…”

“Okay, okay.” Steve held his hand up, giving her a nod, “Fine, I’ll submit for monitoring. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Could someone please find me something to eat?” He looked around, his stomach giving a huge growl at the perfect moment to emphasise his point, “I’ve never been this hungry in my life, and believe me, I’m no stranger to living with an empty stomach.”

It turns out that Steve’s appetite had increased exponentially too, which was to be expected considering his metabolism was working far faster than it ever had before. He wolfed down a huge helping of Potato and Hot Dog salad, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, an assortment of vegetables and a huge helping of apple pie. He had no idea where Katie had managed to conjure it from, and frankly he didn’t care either. All he knew was that in that one sitting he’d consumed more food than he usually ate in a day.

The rest of the day was taken up with him being poked and prodded and attached to all sorts of strange machines. Howard explained what each of them was for, but he wasn’t paying much attention. His mind was whirring, finally processing what had happened in the last couple of hours. He had been so sure about what was going to happen post getting the serum that he’d be shipped out to help in the fight and now he didn’t have a clue where he was going to go, especially if they were now going to refocus their efforts on Hydra. That said, it was all helping the war effort wasn’t it? Hydra was a huge threat, if he was able to help take them down in any way, shape or form, then he was ok with that.

One of the doctors and Howard started explaining to him what the serum had done and at that point he tuned in to some of it, picking out the odd phrase like “super strength”, “increased stamina”, “enhanced metabolism”, “fast healing”, “super-sharp senses”,  “memory expansion”, “logical improvement”. Howard looked at him and explained that as far as he could see, the transformation was complete, and was as permanent as they could hope. But Erskine had said that the serum wasn’t infallible, therefore how long the effects would last into the future they didn’t know. Forty, maybe fifty years or so. Steve wasn’t particularly bothered about that though, by the time that happened he would be well into his sixties or seventies and would he really care then?

Katie arrived back just as the Doctor who had been dealing with him had instructed the nurse to remove the heart monitor form his chest.

“Hi.” She smiled and Steve turned to face her, fulling intending on greeting her back, but before he could, the doctor made a little noise of surprise.

“What is it?” Howard asked and Steve hastily turned towards them, wondering what was wrong.

“His heart rate just spiked.”

Steve gulped and hastily looked away from Katie as Howard turned to face him. His eyes flicked from Steve, to his sister who was stood in the doorway, a bashful smile on her face but to her credit she held her brother’s gaze as the man gave a groan.

“Seriously?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She mumbled, stepping into the room. “You done treating him like a guinea pig?”

“Hey, you were the one that insisted on the monitoring!” Howard pointed at her.

“Yes, because it was what Abe wanted.” She shrugged, “And I wanted to make sure everything was okay before you guys started stealing his blood like a pack of starving vampires.”

“Well you needn’t panic.” Howard arched an eyebrow, “The transformation seems to be text book. Your Super Soldier is as ready as can be.”

“Fuck you.” Katie shot back, and Howard gave a chuckle as Steve let out a little groan at the man’s teasing.

“That bad an idea huh, dating my sister?” Howard turned to Steve and he flushed immediately.

“That…no, I didn’t…say that, I mean, not that we…”

“Ignore him Steve, he’s being a jerk.” Katie rolled her eyes. “And if he knows what’s good for him he’ll shut up before I knock his teeth out.”

“Threat received and understood.” Howard held his hands up as the doctor bustled around and handed Steve back his t-shirt.

“You can leave now, Captain Rogers, but we would like you to stay here tonight.”

“Why?” Steve frowned as he pulled the SSR logo t-shirt over his head.

“Because I want to monitor your levels at complete rest.” The doctor smiled, “Humour me, please.”

Steve shrugged as he swung his legs off the bed. “Sure.” It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be.

“Your stuff is being brought over from the barracks.” Katie smiled softly. 

“Any idea on where I’ll be going after that?” Steve stood up carefully, taking his time to pull himself up to his new full height.

“Nope.” She shrugged, “I suppose it depends on what Colonel Phillips and the President agree. I suspect we’ll head over to London HQ if we’re going after Hydra in Europe, but we should find out tomorrow morning.”

“So, we have a free evening?” Howard looked at Katie.

“Well, sort of. Unless you want to get a head start on that Hydra submarine thing.” She waved her hand at the door.

“I don’t need a head start.” Howard shrugged, somewhat arrogantly, “I’m a genius, I’ll crack it tomorrow.”

Katie rolled her eyes, “You know I really admire your modesty.”

Howard chuckled, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, what I was suggesting was that if we do have a free few hours, how about a drink? I got a bottle of vintage Macallan stashed in my lab.” He paused and Steve watched as his shoulders slumped a little and he took a deep breath before he looked back up at both Steve then to his sister. “Me and Abe had been saving it for tonight."

Katie took a deep breath before she walked over to her brother who wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, gently kissing the top of her head. Steve looked away for a second, not wanting to intrude on the moment as he watched the doctor and nurse leave the room.

“We should have a toast to him,” Katie spoke, her voice cracking a little as she stepped away from Howard. She turned to Steve and smiled, “He’d have been proud this had worked.”

Steve nodded a little side smile pulling at his mouth as he remembered the banter he and Erskine had shared about the schnapps. With a nod he looked at Katie, the smile spreading further across his face, “He owed me a drink.”

 It was a strange night.

The three of them had shared a glass each of the smooth whiskey, which Steve had thoroughly enjoyed. It had tasted so smooth yet crisp. And he wasn’t sure if that was down to the fact it was stupidly expensive and high end, or the fact his taste-buds simply worked better. Howard hadn’t raised the issue of he and Katie again, for which Steve was glad. If he had been asked, he couldn’t say how he would have answered because he wasn’t entirely sure what they were. A casual fling? A hook up? He knew what he wanted it to be, but once again he was brought crashing back to reality. They were in the middle of a war. It was impossible.  

Despite the myriad of thoughts and emotions running through his mind, Steve slept better than he had ever slept in his life. His chest wasn’t bad, he didn’t struggle for breath when he lay down flat meaning that for the first time he could remember he didn’t need to sleep propped up. Yet, on the other hand, he felt like he was waking up every five or ten minutes. The slightest sound or movement made by the various SSR staff nurses and guards milling around the small medical wing of the lab woke him thanks to his now enhanced, fine tuned senses. The doctors and Howard had assured Steve that whilst it might take a while but once he was used to the heightening of his senses it would start to feel ‘normal’ to him in a way and he would learn to use them and appreciate them.

With a yawn, he cracked his head side to side as he raised it off the pillow. Whilst he didn’t know what time it was thanks to the lack of any natural light in the room, he knew that this time he wasn’t getting back to sleep. He climbed from his bed, stretched and waited for the usual pain to shoot down his back, but nothing. He then stood up, a little too fast and pitched forward before he steadied himself and drew up to his full new height, squaring his now broad shoulders back as he stood tall in his new posture. Again, Howard had told him he would soon learn to adjust his movements to compensate for the fact that he no longer needed to put as much effort into them. No sooner had he done that, a nurse appeared with his breakfast and she was followed by Agent Carter who wished him a good morning and then handed him a formal Army Uniform in his new size. With a soft smile and a thanks, he took it before laying it down on the bed, admiring the green wool and crisp shirt. 

“When you’re ready then we’d like to take the blood samples.” Peggy spoke softly, “But there’s no rush. Take your time.”

“Rather just get it over and done with Ma’am.” Steve said politely and truthfully. The sooner he was done being prodded, poked and stabbed the sooner he could find out what was going on.

With that in mind he ate, washed up, dressed and was ready in half an hour flat. He was led out of the bunk room he’d been sleeping in and down the corridor back to the observation room he’d been in the previous day where he was instructed to roll up his sleeves and lay back as they proceeded to siphon off his blood. When they had one bag full they then hooked him up to another, and then another, the doctor instructing him to tell them if he felt light headed but Steve had a suspicion that the enhancements to his body would simply enable him to generate more as fast as they took it. That said, by the time the third bag was full he was bored. Peggy seemed to sense it and she turned to the doctor who nodded and instructed everyone that they were done.

“Think you got enough?” Steve asked, somewhat sarcastically.

“Any hope of reproducing the program is locked in your genetic code.” Peggy replied simply, “But without Dr. Erskine, it could take years.”

“He deserved more than this.” Steve replied a little sadly and he meant it. The serum had been Erskine’s life work and now there was nothing to show for it as the last vial of the serum had been smashed on Brooklyn Pier.

“Well, if it could only work once, he’d be proud it was you,” Peggy looked at him.

Steve glanced at her, feeling a little embarrassed at her praise but he didn’t dwell on it and neither did she. Instead, she told him that once he was ready she’d take him down to the main lab were Phillips and Katie were talking to Senator Brandt about the plans for the SSR going forward. Keen to understand, he quickly sorted his shirt out.

“Speaking modestly, I’m the best mechanical engineer in this country,” Howard shrugged. “But I don’t know what’s inside this thing or how it works.”

“So much for not needing a head start, huh?” Katie teased and Howard glared at her.

“We’re not even close to this technology,” he finished by means of an explanation.

“Then who is?” Senator Brandt demanded.

“HYDRA,” Phillips responded SIMPLY. “I’m sure you’ve been reading our briefings.”

“I’m on a number of committees, Colonel,” Brandt replied simply, completely unabashed at Phillips tone.

“HYDRA is the Nazi deep science division,” Katie explained

“It’s led by Johann Schmidt,” Peggy picked up. “But he has much bigger ambitions.”

“HYDRA’s practically a cult,” Phillips stated. “They worship Schmidt, they think he’s invincible.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” Brandt asked and at that point Steve took a deep breath, finally he was about to find out what he was going to be doing.

“Spoke to the President this morning. As of today the SSR is being retasked.”

Katie and Peggy exchanged excited glances and Peggy looked back at Phillips, seeking clarification as she asked, “Colonel?”

“We are taking the fight to HYDRA,” Phillips looked at the woman. “Pack your bags Agent Carter. You too, Agent Stark,” he turned to Katie, “you’re flying to London tonight.”

Steve hesitated for a second, but when Phillips didn’t turn to speak to him and inform him where he was going, he hurried forward a little.

“Sir, if you’re going after Schmidt, I want in.”

“You’re an experiment,” Phillips shot back. “You’re going to Alamogordo.”

Steve frowned a little, but then pressed some more, he wasn’t letting this go.

“The serum worked,” his voice rose a little.

“I asked for an army and all I got was you. You...are not enough.”

Katie wheeled round to look at Phillips, her face angry, “Oh, come on Sir, that’s…”

“I have put up with your insubordination for long enough. I don’t give a shit what you think, Agent Stark.” Philips snarled, “Keep pushing me and so help me God, I will have you taken straight outta this unit and you’ll be back home typing up the Letters of Condolence.”

“But…”

“Enough!” Phillips snapped. “Now I suggest you disappear and pack just like Agent Carter did when I told her to.”

Katie took a deep breath, an angry noise escaping her throat before she turned and stormed away. Steve watched her go before he turned back to argue some more with Phillips, but the man had already moved away.

They wanted to send him to a fucking research plant? Seriously? This was ridiculous.

“With all due respect to the Colonel, I think we may be missing the point,” Senator Brandt spoke to Steve and he turned to face the man. “I’ve seen you in action, Steve. More importantly, the country’s seen it.” Brandt turned to his aide. “Paper.” His aide obeyed, showing them the paper in his hand. It was today’s copy of the ‘The New York Examiner’ which bore the headline "Nazis in New York - Mystery Man Saves Child" along with a picture of Steve holding the car door in front of him.

“The enlistment lines have been around the block since your picture hit the newsstands," Brandt smiled at Steve. “You don’t take a soldier, a symbol like that, and hide him in a lab.” Steve felt a surge of hope flood his system as the Senator continued. “Son, do you want to serve your country on the most important battlefield of the war?”

“Sir, that’s all I want,” Steve replied honestly.

“Then, congratulations,” The Senator held his hand out for Steve to shake. “You just got promoted.”

Steve’s hopes were short lived when Brandt explained what he had in mind - using Steve to boost recruitment and bond sales. But he knew he was getting nowhere with Phillips, so he decided to take the role and could only hope that it would lead to something else. Besides, it was important to gather support. The Forces needed all the financial and recruitment help they could get, and he could play a key part in that.

So Brandt said.

“Hey…”

Steve looked up from where he was packing the few items he’d unpacked from his trunk and looked at Katie.

“Oh, hi.” He said, turning back to his packing.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she continued and Steve took a deep breath, straightening up.

“Who told you?”

“Good news travel fast, Captain.” She stressed the last word and Steve had to actively stop himself from rolling his eyes.  “That’s a pretty good promotion considering you’ve been a soldier all of a week.”

“Yeah, well, it was too good an opportunity to turn down. In fact, it was the only opportunity to turn down.” He watched her as she took a deep breath, opened her mouth, before closing it again. And then Steve really did roll his eyes, “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out Katie.”

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me,” she snapped back.

“I’m not being…”

“Yes, you are,” she folded her arms. “It’s not my fault Phillips won’t let you in on this. I’ve tried, believe me, but for whatever reason he’s not moving.”

“He’s not moving because he doesn’t like me,” Steve replied simply.

“Well, that’s his loss," Katie countered. “And what’s with the sudden display of self-pity?”

“What?”

“This, moping around, acting all deflated.”

“It’s easy for you to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well you’re off, over there. Fighting the fight…me, well, looks like I’m gonna have to play ball with Senators doesn’t it?”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, I do!” Steve’s voice rose and Katie blinked a little, but besides that she showed no signs of having registered his angry tone. “What choice do I have?”

“There’s always a choice, Steve.”

“Oh, yeah?” He snorted. “And my choice here is what? Go to the damned White Sands Proving Ground where they can run more tests on me? Keep me locked up like some kind of lab rat?”

“I didn’t say they were always good choices.”

“Well what do you think I should do huh?”

“That’s not for me to say.” Katie shook her head. “But I can tell you one thing....”

“What?”

“That I have faith in you to do what you feel is right, and continue to be the good man I know you are.” Her words were soft but they hit Steve like a freight train and he swallowed, suddenly aware of how down right shitty he’d been. “And if you’re telling me that it feels right that you go where Brandt wants you to go then…” she shrugged. 

“I have to try.” Steve replied.

“Well, in that case, I’ll say what I came to say in the first place," she gave him a soft smile, “Good luck.”

Steve took a deep breath and sighed, “Thanks. Look, I’m sorry I snapped. I just, well, truth be told I’m a little jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, all I ever wanted was to be a soldier and to fight on the front lines. Like my dad did, and Bucky.” He sat down on the side of the bed, “And I agreed to this procedure because I thought it was my ticket there, ya know?”

“I get it,” Katie nodded, crossing the room to sit besides him. “And I can understand how frustrated you feel, believe me I can.” He turned to look at her to see her glancing down at her hands before she looked up at a spot on the wall opposite them. “I just can’t say anything to make it better, other than repeat what I said before. I have absolute faith and belief that you’ll do what you think is right. And that’s all any of us can do.”

Steve looked straight in her eyes as they flickered across both of his and he took a deep breath, her words echoing round his mind. Throughout this, she and Erskine had been the two people who had utterly believed he was the best man for the job so to speak. Now Erskine was gone, and he was about to be separated from her as well. And it pained him to think about it, as he realised that he was going to miss her, for more than the simple reason that she’d been a friend to him. 

“You know I’m sorry we met the way we did,” his thoughts blurted out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Katie frowned, “What?”

“No, I err…” Steve sighed and then gave a snort. “Guess the serum didn’t enhance my ability to talk to a dame without completely making a total screw up of it.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Katie smiled, “you do a decent job most of the time.” She paused as Steve gave a little huff of laughter before she turned her body a little more towards him, “What’s on your mind, Soldier?”

“I mean, I’m sorry that we met when we did. And, you know, not sooner.” He shrugged, looking down at his hands, “Or maybe even later, when all this is over.”

“If it ever is,” Katie sighed and Steve raised his eyes to hers as she licked her lips a little. “Steve, I’m not sad I met you when I did. Quite the opposite actually. It’s been…” she paused for a moment before she smiled “…a little ray of hope in an otherwise very gloomy world.”

“Hope?”

“Yeah…” she shrugged. “You know, a reminder that no matter how ugly the world seems or how much it changes, it’s still a beautiful place.”

Steve thought on her words for a second, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“What?” She asked as she noted his expression.

“You just remind me of my mom,” he smiled. “She was always a 'look on the bright side' kind of woman. No matter what life threw at us, she was always reminding me there were people far worse off.”

“She sounds like a smart lady.”

“She was, ” Steve smiled with a short nod. “Kind, compassionate…just more ways you remind me of her.”

He didn’t miss the faint flush on Katie’s cheeks as she looked down at her hands and then raised her eyes to look at him, “I’m honoured.”

Steve took a deep breath, “I meant what I said you know, the other night before we…you know.” He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat felt like a tennis ball. “I like you, more than like you in fact.”

“Kinda sucks we’re about to be separated doesn’t it?” Katie looked at him, her eyes sad and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“But, I’m a firm believer that if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.” Katie shrugged and at that Steve gave a scoff. She turned to him, a playful look on her face. “What, you don’t believe in fate?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “you make your own luck.”

“Right.” A little side smile broke on her mouth, “you did a good job with that when you happened to be at the Expo the same time Erskine was.”

“Lucky coincidence.”

“And what was me getting accosted by a load of rapscallions in Brooklyn?”

“A not so lucky for you coincidence.” Steve shrugged.

“You know what the definition of the word coincidence is?”

“Not word for word, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“Sass bag.” Katie nudged him with her elbow and he chuckled, “but you’re right, I am. It’s a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent casual connection.”

“And?”

“Fate is the development of events outside a person’s control.” Katie looked at him, her eyebrow arched, “Coincidence is beyond a person’s control. And if fate is what’s meant to be no matter what you do, and coincidence is merely a matter of right place, right time, then what if you’re in the right place at the right time because it’s simply meant to be.”

Steve looked at her, utterly sideswiped at her sentiment. Whilst he wasn’t sure he agreed, the logic was surely there and the fact she’d laid it so bare, been so open with him knocked him for six. He saw her eyes flicker to his mouth again, and in a sudden surge of confidence he gently moved, taking her face in his hands and pulling her to meet him in a soft, gentle kiss that was loaded with meaning.

“Yup…” she sniffed a little as she pulled away and Steve was both surprised and horrified to see the tears in her eyes as she pressed her forehead to his, their noses bumping a little “it definitely sucks.”

“Write to me,” he whispered, his thumbs swiping away her tears and she smiled, nodding, before she caught his lips again, this time the kiss was deeper, and Steve had to fight back the groan that was bubbling in his throat as he felt her tongue slide against his. They were interrupted by a loud noise outside and Katie pulled away, dropping her gaze a little before she sighed and stood up.

“Stay safe soldier,” she smiled, her hand gently cupping his cheek. “I’d hate for you to come back horrifically disfigured.”

At that Steve snorted, “Would it put you off?” He teased, “I didn’t think you were that shallow.”

“I’m not,” she smiled as she made her way to the door. “It’d just be a helluva waste, a face like that.”

With that she was gone and Steve felt the smile fade from his face to be replaced by a hollow feeling which engulfed his entire body, as the realisation spread across him that he had no idea when he would see her again.

If indeed, at all.

November 1943.

 “I already volunteered, how do you think I got here?”

“Nice boots, Tinkerbell…”

“Hey, Captain! Sign this”

The heckling from the assembled crowd rang through Steve’s mind as he sat dejectedly on the side of the stage, the miserable and cold rain matching his mood. His hand moved absentmindedly, shading in the drawing he’d sketched in his book. A very apt drawing of a Circus Monkey on a Unicycle clutching the damned shield he’d been given as part of his costume. It turns out the “battlefield” that Senator Brandt had been referring to was nothing more than a grotesque road show across the US and various other places on the Allied Map encouraging people to buy war bonds.

“The Senator's got a lot of pull up on the hill. You play ball with us, you’ll be leading your own platoon in no time.”

Yeah, a "platoon" of chorus girls and confetti cannons, complete with Adolph himself. And he was no closer to getting in on the real action.

He’d travelled all over the place during the last four months, the tour had been successful, and there was no denying that it was helping the effort in a way. “Bonds buy bullets, bullets kill Nazi’s bing bang boom.” But this wasn’t what he had signed up for. Nor did he believe for one second that this was what Dr. Erskine had in mind for how his serum would be put into use.

He’d made a few propaganda films, all part of the course according to Brandt who had then had the the bright idea to send Captain America on the USO tour, to attempt to lift spirits. So here he was in Italy, five miles from the front line, having finally made it overseas as a soldier only to be stood on a stage in front of the men he should have been fighting alongside, being pelted by rotten fruit and vegetables instead of bullets.

It didn’t help that he knew the SSR were fast ramping up their efforts on HYDRA, having been reassigned to somewhere in mainland Europe, not unlike himself at that point in time. He’d had a few letters from Katie, but he had no idea where she was. She didn’t go into details, which was to be expected, she couldn’t and her mail always reached him through the usual military channels. He’d tried to remain positive in his letters back to her, focussing on nights where had a particularly good show, meeting and greeting his ‘fans’ afterwards, carefully omitting details about the women that now seemed to be throwing themselves at him. Be it in bars, back stage or simply as he emerged from the venues; there was no shortage of ladies vying for his attention. And had he been that way inclined, he could have taken any number of them dancing and then back to wherever he was staying that night but the fact was he didn’t want to. Because no matter how pretty or forthcoming the girls were, his mind and heart were with a certain green eyed agent.

The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, the song had dubbed him, yet Steve felt as if he had never had less of a plan in his life.

“Hello, Steve," a familiar voice spoke in his ear and Steve jerked his head up in surprise and turned, doing a little double take as he looked up at Katie.

“Hi,” he instantly felt his heart rate pick up dramatically in her presence, like it normally did as his eyes laid upon her. She was dressed in standard Army green wool pants that were tailored for a man with wide legs and long length that she tucked in to her well-worn mid-calf boots which were brown leather with lace protection straps and had no doubt been happily trudged through the mud and beaten until they broke in and needed new soles. Her unit issued jacket was the same colour green as her pants, but the harsh canvas material gave a weighted appearance across her shoulders as it was buttoned and zipped it up.  Beneath it, she wore her wool tie and collared shirt, no doubt tucked into her trousers for a crisp clean look.

Steve noted how it was a stark (pun intended) difference to the previous smart pencil skirt and jacketed uniform he had seen her in at the SSR base which Peggy, who stood to her left, was still sporting. But then again, the two women were very different, and knowing Katie as he did she wasn't one to conform and who knew what she had been up to whilst on the front line.

All it did was serve to make Steve feel even more self-conscious and ridiculous in his own outfit, designed for dancing and prancing around not active combat. 

“What are you doin’ here?” He asked, his eyes flicking to Peggy before they returned to Katie again.

“Officially we’re not here at all,” Peggy smiled. “That was quite a performance.”

Great, they’d seen it. His shoulders slumped at little as he turned away.

“Yeah. Uh… I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more uh… twelve.”

“Probably less full of jerks as well,” Katie snorted and Steve looked at her, his mouth curling into a slight smile as Peggy let out a sigh.

“You know what soldiers are like. Present company excepted of course,” Peggy quickly corrected herself as Steve had cocked any eyebrow at her sweeping assumption, before she turned to the other agent. “I warned you-“

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Katie replied with a roll of her eyes.

Peggy took a deep breath, before she turned back to Steve, swiftly changing the subject. “I understand you’re "America’s New Hope"?

“Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit,” Steve chanted off, the words flowing out of him the same way they did whenever he spoke to someone about the Roadshow and he grimaced as he realised just what a damned puppet he had become.

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?” Katie teased and Steve took a deep breath.

“At least he’s got me doin’ this,” Steve felt a sudden need to defend not only the Senator a little but also his decision to take the role in the first place, especially after their conversation before he had left. “Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.”

“And these are your only two options?” Peggy looked at him, nodding to his sketch book which was still open in his lap. “A lab rat or a dancing monkey?”

“You were meant for more than this, you know?” Katie added gently, and Steve looked at her, hesitating as his sarcastic reply died in his throat. Instead he looked away, a little dejected. She was right, he had been meant for more that was the whole point of him taking the serum. But even after he’d been turned into this Super Soldier, been given such power and capability, he still wasn’t enough.

“What?” Katie pressed gently, having noticed his hesitation.

“You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I’m wearing tights.”

Before either of the women could respond there was the sound of a horn honking which diverted their attention. Steve turned to watch as an ambulance pulled to a halt outside the medical tent. The back doors were flung open and several injured soldiers were pulled out of the back on stretches, nurses and medical staff rushing to help as they disappeared through the drapes of the tents, the walking wounded being helped down and aided as they limped behind.

“They look like they’ve been through hell,” Steve commented, a deep feeling of sadness at the sight of the injured men flooded his chest.

“These men more than most,” Peggy commented and Steve turned to look at her, a little confused as to what she meant.

“Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano,” Katie explained. “Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-oh-seventh. The rest were killed or captured.”

Steve felt his chest tighten, as if someone had trapped it in a vice and his head momentarily span as the meaning of her words sank in.

“The one-oh-seventh?” He breathed out, begging it to be wrong. But Katie simply frowned as she gave a nod.

“What?”

Steve swallowed and looked around before he rose to his feet. “That was Bucky’s unit.” He turned to face her, his voice sounded alien as he almost choked on his words. Katie’s face slid into a look of recognition, her mouth falling open.

“Barnes?” She asked and Steve nodded, as he ran a hand down his face, once more glancing round desperately hoping for Bucky to appear and rip into him for his ridiculous outfit. But he knew that if Bucky had been in that audience, he would have already found him. Which meant that he was either amongst the injured soldiers in the tent or…

“Who’s Barnes?” Peggy asked form behind him.

“Steve’s friend from home,” Katie replied gently as Steve turned back to look at the women.

“I need to check if he’s there,” Steve nodded towards the medical tent.

“Not a good idea,” Peggy cut him off. “You saw their reaction to you before. If you go waltzing in you’re going to upset them.”

“I don’t really care,” Steve spluttered

“Well you should,” Peggy looked at him sternly.

“I have to know if he survived!”

“Okay, look…” Katie took a deep breath, and he tore his eyes away from Peggy who was still glaring at him to look instead at the other woman. “Phillips will have the list of the-“ she hesitated, clearly searching for the best word “-casualties. We can ask him.”

“Phillips is here too?” Steve frowned, although he wasn’t sure why that had surprised him. Decision made, he turned and started running across the camp shooting a, “come on,” over his shoulder as the heavy rain pelted down onto them all.

He busted into the tent, “Colonel Phillips,” and the man looked up, a disgruntled expression spread across his face before he took a deep breath and looked back down at the papers on his desk as Steve strode purposefully towards him.

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. And what is your plan today?” Phillip’s voice was laced with sarcasm but Steve didn’t care. At the moment he had one thing on his mind, and that was Bucky.

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, son.” Phillips snapped, looking up at him once more and Steve ignored his angry tone, his stubbornness showing through as he continued to pres.

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.”

“You two and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy,” Phillips pointed to both Agent Carter and Katie in turn.

“Can’t wait," Katie sassed back and Phillips’ head shot up to look at her as he once more fixed her with a stare that could freeze over hell, but Steve didn’t have time for this.

“ Please tell me if he’s alive, Sir. B-A-R…”

“I can spell,” the Colonel stated harshly as he tore his eyes from Katie. He looked at the papers in his hand and with a sigh dropped them to his desk and when he spoke his voice was a little softer. "I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry." 

Steve swallowed, a feeling of cold washing over his body as the Colonel's words sank in. It sounded familiar…so, maybe there was a chance it could be another Barnes, maybe? It was a common name, after all…and even if it was Bucky’s name on the letter, he could be missing assumed dead, not actually confirmed dead. Peggy and Katie had told him before that there were still men from the unit trapped behind lines. 

"What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he’d really had time to consider them properly.

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war.”

Steve frowned, “But if you know where they are, why not at least…?"

Colonel Phillips stood up, the expression on his face belonged to a man who had just lost his final bit of patience. "They're thirty miles behind the lines. Through the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save." He moved around the desk to stand in front of Steve, his hands falling to his hips as fixed him with a stern and challenging glare. "But I don't expect you to understand that, because you're a chorus girl."

Steve took a breath, the anger coursing inside him at the dig that Phillips had just made, but before he could say anything, he heard Katie scoff besides him. 

“And who’s fault is that?”

Phillips turned to Katie, his face contorted in anger “You are this close…” he held his thumb and forefinger up a fraction of an inch apart.

Katie’s jaw clenched and her chin tipped up defiantly as she glared back at the man. Steve, having had chance to compose himself slightly now the spoke in an attempt to draw the attention back away from her and onto himself.

“I might just be a chorus girl, but I think I understand just fine.”

“Well then understand it somewhere else.” Phillips turned away… “If I read the posters correctly, you got some place to be in thirty minutes”

As he spoke the last words, Steve took note of the map which lay on the table and he noticed a flag marked with an H which caught his attention. And then, he made his decision.

The Star Spangled Man finally had a plan.

“Yes, sir. I do.”

[deniigi]

MORE POLYCULE SHIT

here this is mostly Sam/Ned from Matt’s POV. (this piece assumes Matt didn’t know about the negotiations until later)

Title: soda bottles

Summary: Matt finds out about Sam’s involvement with Ned and then with Peter’s polycule. He tries to talk to Sam about it, but fails. On like, every front.

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

The apprentice told him to stay out of his room and his life and his business and he should have known better by now, truly.

Matt knew that voice. And he also knew that what Sam, Samuel, Sammy-my-darling was doing right now at this present moment was giggling.

Unacceptable. There would be no joy in this house.

Matt removed himself from the door and declared war in silence.

 ---

 The dogs were instrumental in luring Samuel out to open space. And by luring, Matt meant knocking on his bedroom door with leashes in hand and asking Sam if he wanted a walk.

In no time Matt had zero leashes and zero dogs and, while he was at it, zero apprentices.

In fact, he had been abandoned.

In his own house.

Again.

How did this keep happening?

 ---

 Foggy told Matt to let Sam have his little crush on Ned. Ned was a good boy. Foggy had maintained this for years. He skirted around the fact that he’d grabbed Ned’s shoulders when he was 17 and had told him to stare him in the eyes and to never fall in love with his best friend.

Matt pointed this out to him and got a pillow to the face, then a huff and an uncalled-for reminder that he was a fucking idiot and no one loved him.

This was Foggy’s love language though, so Matt didn’t take it to heart. Instead, he abandoned him for the only person in the world who truly understood him.

Jenn.

 ---

  Jenn had to spend fifteen minutes cooing over the fact that Matt had acquired an apprentice and then she had to spend another ten being an asshole about it and then she spent a solid 5 making dad jokes at him when he tried to talk and so he waited until she was done with her cackling and personal jabs.

She told him that it was cute that Peter’s bestie was gushing over Matt’s apprentice.

She told him that he should be happy for them.

And Matt was. Happy for them, that is.

He was thrilled.

Sam’s track record with long-term partners, as far as Matt could tell, was a solid nil for nil. The boy refused to be attached to anyone, which Matt totally got.

But it was like standing by, watching your own young moronic self making a series of unfortunate decisions that were not only whole unnecessary, but also had solutions within easy reach, like headstones in a damn cemetery.

Sam had a string of guys and girls that he’d picked up at clubs and bars and fuckin’ hipster literature readings downtown who were literally, actually falling over themselves to be with him. And he texted them and laughed about them and joked with Leilani and Achara about them, and then never spoke of them ever again.

Matt got it, okay?

He’d been that guy.

Maybe a little more on the jock side of things and maybe a little less, say, refined than Sammy—but he still got it. A slightly longer relationship was good for Sam. And Ned was a good egg—no, a great egg.

But he just couldn’t shake this feeling, Jenn.

He didn’t even know what it was, but it made him paranoid and want Sam to go back to the self-destructive nonsense, because at least Matt knew what that felt like. He could push back against that after dumping the kid out of the ring in training.

“Matty,” Jenn said affectionately, “You’re trying to protect Sam, Ned, and Peter. But you don’t have to do that. They’re all grown. Let them make their decisions.”

Ooooohohoho

How dare she.

Matt knew they were grown. Sam was nearly 25. Peter was almost 27—oh god, Peter was almost 27. FUCK. Jesus. Lord. Someone—Christ.

Sammy was a baby.

He couldn’t be playing with these big kids, he’d have his heart broken.

What if Ned got bored of him, Jenn??

Matt couldn’t beat the shit out of Ned. Ned was a good boy. And Peter would lose his damn gourd and that was how Matt would end up under two tons of concrete and rebar with an angry spider perched on top, stomping and spitting.

“Matt,” Jenn said soothingly. “Peter learned how to be polyamorous from you, dear heart.”

Oh shit.

Oh right.

Oh no.

“I’ve gotta go,” Matt said. “Lovely talking to you, next time you’re in town, come around for a foursome or a twosome or a three if Kirsten’s down—okay BYE.”

Jenn laughed at him when he hung up.

Matt clutched at his chest.

 ---

 He’d inadvertently taught Peter what polyamory looked like by flinging himself down on many disgusting surfaces and moaning and writhing in agony and despair about Foggy being monogamous and everyone in the world being unspeakably brilliant and strong and no-doubt gorgeous.

Fuckin’ Kirsten.

Fuckin’ Wade.

Fuckin’ Karen.

And Heather and Marci and ONE TIME ONLY Frank.

UGH.

Disgusting. Matt needed Lysol to scrub that moment of weakness from his brain.

The point was that he’d been a chump, and baby Peter had observed these various moaning sessions and had apparently, at some point, started taking notes.

Gah.

Peter. Why?

Stop loving your friends. Stop copying me. Get your own breakdown material.

Uuuuuuugh.

Okay, okay. Rally, Murdock. It’s fine.

This is simply a conversation to have with Sammy about how to negotiate such--hng. Actually maybe this was a Kirsten conversation.

 ---

 He went to visit Kirsten.

He got a little distracted because Kirsten was Kirsten and she required thorough smelling and like, minimum two kisses and she deserved to have at his bare chest if she wanted it—who was he to deny her—THE POINT.

The point. Was.

That he told Kirsten about things and she told him not to talk about work when she was taking her shirt off, and he told her to leave it on for just like, five minutes longer and that came out wrong and she was insulted and Matt had to backtrack for half an hour.

But he got there in the end, alright?

Kirsten said she didn’t know that Sam was polyamorous.

Matt said that he didn’t know if he was, but he sure as shit was flirting with Ned like, constantly.

Kirsten said that that explained why Sam kept telling her that he couldn’t come to dinner with them because he already had a date. Kirsten then went rigid and said, “Wait, you mean Ned-Ned?”

Yes.

Yes, Matt did.

“Oh.”

Correct reaction.

“Is that—do you think that’s –hm.”

Correct reaction maintained and appreciated. Matt no longer felt like a monumental ass.

“That might be a little, uh, cuttin’ it close there,” Kirsten said. “Does Peter know?”

Presumably. Ned couldn’t lie for shit.

“Maybe we should ask Peter what the negotiations there are. He’s pretty on top of that stuff.”

Shockingly, that was true.

Good plan.

“If Sammy’s gonna get involved with them, then he should at least know what he’s getting into,” Kirsten said.

Yes, but also—why is this feeling happening, Kirsten, beloved life partner number 2?

“Oh, that? That’s called ‘you’re a territorial dick,’” Kirsten said. “Get over yourself.”

“But he’s 24,” Matt said. “A child.”

“He’ll be twenty-five in a few months, Matthew,” Kirsten said. “That’s bad-decision-making prime-time. This is inevitable. My concern is that he’s not going into a relationship with Ned, thinking that he’s the primary partner there.”

Okay, fair.

“Are we done with this conversation now?”

Yes.

“Thank god. I hate your dad impulses. Cleanse yourself of them and get on the bed.”

Would do.

 ---

 Kirsten made Matt call Peter and be awkward for the both of them which, Matt would like it stated for the record, was extremely unfair and manipulative of her.

Peter told him that Sam was fine.

Peter told him that he and Sam had maybe fooled around a little bit without Matt and Foggy and Kirsten’s knowledge which was. Hm.

Troublemakers. Stop laughing, Franklin. This is nothing like the time we inducted Kirsten into our life and lied about it to everyone we knew for 3 years.

Nothing.

Peter thought not. Peter thought that Sam had told Matt about this whole thing. He then got a little huffy and said that Ned was the one who had swept Sam off his feet while Peter had been standing right there, man. As Spiderman. Primed for feet-sweeping.

That was satisfying.

Peter took the next ten minutes to complain about how Sam didn’t want to talk to him as much as he wanted to talk to Ned and how Ned was always begging off dinners with Peter and MJ to go have dinner with Sam and how Peter and MJ had to make do with Johnny in his absence.

Matt would never understand why Peter pretended that he and Johnny Storm were nothing more than fuck buddies, but okay, sure. If that’s what helps you sleep at night, little lion man.

Peter went on to say that the worst part of Sam and Ned’s mutual obsession was how fucking cute it was.

Disgusting, Peter maintained.

There were matching bracelets and drawn out decisions about matching sneakers. And there was nattering on until past midnight about Transformers lore and there was non-stop texting and complaints about various tools and coding languages and all this shit that Peter’s own flavor of nerd had diverged from about six years ago.

Kirsten made a little squeak that told Matt that she was highly entertained by Peter’s ‘complaints.’

It sounded more to Matt like Peter and MJ were hunkered down behind the couch, narrating all Ned’s behavior to Johnny (the totally uninvolved fuckbuddy) in whispers.  

Foggy curled up on the edge of their own couch to muffle his wheezy giggles.

Exhausting.

The youth were exhausting. How had no one just shot Matt straight through the heart at 27?

“I will speak to Sam about emotional repression,” he promised Peter only to receive a “NO WAIT” from both him and, from the sound of it, MJ and (only fuckbuddy) Johnny a little ways away.

Peter hurriedly explained that Sammy was really shy and skittish about being around their polycule and had just connected with Ned as the least threatening member and it had taken ages, so please don’t say anything and destroy all of the rest of their hard work.

This hit a strange note.

Foggy and Kirsten weren’t snickering anymore either.

Sam?

Wasn’t?

Shy?

Like, if anything, Sammy was shameless. Always lying in people’s laps and snatching their open hands to swing back and forth.

Sure, he was teasing. But shy? Shy?

Sam was sick.

“No,” Peter said. “Double D, he’s not sick.”

Very sick. Terminally ill.

“DD. He’s not sick.”

Bullshit. Matt was taking him to the doctor. Too bad, Sam. You couldn’t avoid it forever.

“Matt. He’s just. Emotionally. Repressed. You should recognize it because its your whole way of being.”

Wow, hadn’t this conversation been going on for a while now? Time to go.

“MATT. Leave him alone,” Peter said. “I’m looking after him, okay? Chill.”

Chill. Yes. Okay, fine. Matt would chill.

For now. Goodbye, Peter.

 ---

 Matt hadn’t chilled about anything in his life and he didn’t intend to start now. So instead he confronted the apprentice.

The apprentice leaned very hard against his door and told Matt that he would rather die than speak of such things, so Matt told him to bare his neck.

Sammy was convinced. But only just.

He made himself frighteningly small and grumpy on his bed and allowed Matt to sit only on the last four inches of it. Matt kind of wanted to take the opportunity to teach him how to hiss.

But alas. That was a skill for another time.

“I talked to Peter,” he said.

Sam mumbled.

“He says you’re shy. Are you feeling okay?”

Sam mumbled in a more prolonged, growly kind of way. He was muffled by something. Probably jeans. Or sweats. Hard to tell.

“Why are you being shy? We both know you’re not shy. Ned’s a nice boy,” Matt told him. “You can trust him.”

Sam jerked his body in some way strongly enough to make the bed shake.

Matt sighed.

“Sam,” he said.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sam said.

“Listen, kid,” Matt said. “You’re gonna do what you want. You’re grown, those are your decisions to make. But if you’re ever uncomfortable or you want to spend time with one person in particular, you’ve gotta communicate that to the others. I know that’s not like, smoothly done or whatever. But it’s what you’ve gotta do in these kinds of relationships.”

Sam made an unhappy sound.

“I don’t want a relationship,” he said quietly.

Ehn.

Same, pal.

They’re a lot of work.

“They’re worth it,” Matt promised him. “And it’s okay to be a little in love, you know. I’m in love every day. It’s not shameful. You don’t have to hide it.”

Sam huffed.

“People’ll stare,” he finally said. “If we ever went out. People would stare.”

Ahhh.

“That’s what you think,” Matt said. “But then you go and do it and it turns out that no one actually cares. People are very self-centered, Sam. You spend all this time worrying about how others perceive you and, at the end of the day, 90% of people literally don’t care. You don’t have to talk to Ned in your room all the time.”

Sam did something with his body that concentrated it even further into a dense mass.

“I like him,” he admitted. “He’s nice.”

Matt hummed.

“He’s a peaceful person,” he said.

“He talks so I don’t have to,” Sam said.

Aw.

Matt felt across the bed and eventually found Sam’s cheek to pinch.

“So shy for such a loudmouth,” he teased.

Sam bit his hand. Matt snickered.

“It’s okay, when I met Fogs I was shy, too,” he said.

Sam grumbled.

“It’s true,” Matt said. “Could not fathom having another human around who I didn’t have to put on an act for.”

He waited.

Sam didn’t even seem to realize that his heart was slowing down.

“I don’t like talking all the time,” he said after a long few beats.

Matt ruffled his hair.

“Ned knows a lot about Star Wars,” he said.

“And computers,” Sam added.

“And code,” Matt said.

Sam’s foot shook a little. Matt schooled his face. Sam crunched into a tighter ball.

Adorable.

Matt got up.

“Long distance is rough,” he said. “Maybe you guys can watch a movie together.”

Sam made a disgruntled sound. Matt left him to be miserable.

 ---

 “You’ve sure turned your opinion around.”

Yes, Husband. Matt had indeed. But that was because Sam was clearly and obviously suffering as a result of this crush, which was precisely where Matt needed him to be.

Misery was familiar. Resentment was nearly as good as spite in terms of skill development.

Dopey-ness was asking for trouble.

“Matt, you cannot be serious.”

Oh, but he could.

“Matthew, what did you tell that boy?”

Nothing he didn’t need to know.

Foggy abandoned him at the table. Matt sipped his coffee. It tasted oh-so-sweet.

 ---

 Things did not change until Matt got a text from Peter that said simply ‘when the fuck is Sam’s birthday?’

In February. Why was he asking?

Peter said ‘damn. Okay, thanks.’

Peter then said that he’d seemed a little sad lately and Ned was freaking out about it and fixating, so they were collectively looking for an excuse to cheer Sam up a little.

Oh, Matt realized. No, that wasn’t sad.

The night nurse had given Sammy the good drugs after last week. He was high as a kite, bless him. Kept running into walls and shit. Matt had dragged him up out of the dog beds twice now.

He informed Peter of the damaged elbow and got nothing but keyboard smashes in return.

This was followed by Sam stumbling out of his room and half up the stairs to make pitiful sounds when he couldn’t make them stay still long enough to climb the rest of them. Foggy shook his head and told Matt to go “strap that kid to the bed, for god’s sake. He’s gonna tear more stitches. And go text for him before he drops his phone again.”

Sammy was coming along great.

He held his phone out to Matt when Matt came down to stand over him on the stairs.

“They’re yellin’,” he slurred.

Yeah, Matt figured.

“Bed,” he said.

“It’s too hot,” Sam said.

No, pathetic ball of humanity. That was the fever, bud.

“Open the window,” Matt said.

“I have a window?”

Bless.

“Up you go,” Matt said.

“DON’T TOUCH ME. Nooooo. Teach, noooooo.”

 ---

 MM: Peter stop texting him. he can’t read his texts rn. Zero tolerance for opioids.

PP: for WHAT

MM: he’s fine. lightly stabbed. Fractured elbow.

MJ: MATT

MM: yes?

MJ: tell him to get better for us

NL: ;__; please?

MM: he will be fine. He’s supposed to be sleeping this off.  

MJ: can you keep us updated?

MM: why

PP: he’s our partner?

MM: ?

MM: I thought he was Ned’s main

NL: AJDF:AKSDFJASDFa

NL: DOES HE TALK ABOUT ME??

MJ: dude

NL: my b my b sry sry

NL: does he talk about me DD?

MM: no

NL: cool cool cool that’s fine

PP: ned

NL: it’s casual that’s cool

MJ: oh my god

NL: it doesn’t mean anything. That makes sense.

MM: peter what is happening?

PP: ned has decided that no texting means that sam hates him and no longer wants to be part of our relationship

NL: TELL HIM IM SORRY

PP: remember how you told me I have rejection issues?

MM: Ned he’s fine. He’s not mad. He’s high.

NL: [pikawat.png]

MJ: *coughs*

NL: oh shit my bad. I mean.

NL: what do you mean?

MM: I mean he likes you. He just hates talking about weaknesses. Ergo he hates talking about you.

MJ: ah, yes. I see now. The superhero logic. The forest has reappeared before me.

NL: OWO

MM: what does this mean?

PP: it’s a face. Like a super interested cat

NL: shut up

NL: so he likes me back?

MJ: no

PP: no

MM: I presume so? I don’t know kid. I just said he doesn’t talk about it.

NL: DD I will pay you in computer repairs to find out for me

MM: to find out if Sam likes you??

NL: yes

MM: what part of his obsession is confusing you

MJ: ASHDAF:SDF

PP: harsh

NL: all of it.

NL: okay so here’s the thing. We got like, matchy matchy stuff, right? Cause that’s what couples do. But he never wears his?? And like, we’ve been playing these games online, like, trying to beat each other, but he just stops playing halfway through? And if we’re watching a movie, it’s fine for the first half, but then he gets quiet and I just end up nattering away about nothing for like an hour and I can’t read the silence DD. I can’t read it. And Peter’s a liar

PP: okay no it is WELL established that I can’t lie what are you even talking about

NL: and he keeps going on about how sam’s shy, but he’s NOT shy. And we were fine until this week, but like, obviously, he’s high and not reading his messages and stuff, but idk am I making this into a big deal? From your end?

MM: What was that face, Peter?

PP: OwO

MM: OwO

MJ: ASDFAeirwieawewdflajwe

MJ: NED LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO THE OLD MAN

NL: SHUT UP. DD, please. Help me. Should I apologize? Is he bored of me? Does he want more time with Peter?

PP: what

PP: no pal I’m just a piece of ass in this situ

MJ: as you should be

PP: awwww

MM: ned Sammy’s fine?

NL:  omg ‘sammy’ that’s really cute do you think he’d mind if I called him that? You know. If he ever speaks to me again?

PP: DD just tell him everything is fine so we can all go to sleep without being woken up every 20 min for a crisis.

MM: I literally don’t know. He doesn’t talk about any of you.

NL: can you sneaky-ninja ask him?

  Matt could not with these children. Sam’s heartbeat was evening out. He was nearly back to sleep. Matt’s back couldn’t take hauling him up off the stairs in another half an hour, so he was going to stay right where he was, that was for damn sure.

“Samuel, you are dating three different flavors of spazz,” he told him.

Sam wriggled over and snuffled into his duvet.

Matt decided that that was an affirmative.

  MM: he says you’re all dramatic and to leave him alone to sleep.

NL: ;__;

PP: ned that is not rejection

NL: ok

MJ: this is embarrassing

NL: I’m just gonna crawl under the floorboards and waste away👍

PP: for fuck’s sake this is me-levels of drama

NL: DD can you tell him that if he’s ever down to just watch shit as friends that’s okay too?

MJ: NED. Matt’s literally out of this loop. And Sam’s probably unconscious.

MM: can confirm is now unconscious. I am exiting your drama.

PP: Dude remember when I said I was gonna drown myself in the sea? You are reaching those levels

NL: I JUST LOVE HIM

  Oh, aw.

  NL: And it’s okay if he doesn’t feel the same way, that’s okay, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t like uncomfortable. I can text him less and let him do his work things and we don’t have to organize shit on the weekends. It’s totally fine

  These fuckin’ kids.

Matt grabbed Sam before he cracked his head against the wall and felt around for something to put between his forehead and it.

He fumbled out his phone in the meantime.

“Samuel,” he said into it, “When you wake up, come upstairs before taking the next pill.”

 ---

 Sam was in pain and grumpy as shit and his mood did not improve as he read through Matt’s messages.

“Two days and everyone loses their goddamn minds,” he said.

Pretty much.

“Ned loves you,” Matt teased.

“Ned needs one of those happy pills,” Sam deadpanned.

Hm. How about no?

Sam groaned and carefully melded himself to the table.

“Why don’t you wear the matchy-matchy stuff?” Matt asked, setting a bag of icy water on Sam’s shoulders. He made a soft sound of relief.

“I don’t want to get ‘em dirty,” Sam hummed.

Hm.

“Maybe if you wore them out a little bit, Ned would like that,” Matt offered.

Sam mulled this over.

“Nah,” he said. “I’ll just tell him I wear it to sleep.”

Matt was so proud.

He missed Foggy coming in halfway through that discussion.

He did not miss the lecture Foggy laid on both of them about lying to loved ones.

 ---

 Matt decided that Sam was far, far more emotionally repressed than he’d given the kid credit for. He was tickled pink.

Kirsten and Foggy were not. They called this ‘concerning behavior’ that needed ‘to be monitored in case of hidden injuries and self-harm.’

And like, man, it was as if they’d hard experience with this shit or something.

Matt decided to bypass their waffling and cornered Sam by trapping him in his duvet and demanding to know if he was hiding any injuries or self-harm.

Sam told him to get out of his room. His heartbeat did not react to the accusations, but rather to Matt’s ‘giant, heavy, albatross body’ assaulting him in his safe place.

Matt decided that this was proof that the emotional repression was, as he had always argued, doing exactly what it needed to: making Sam three times more functional as a human being.

Foggy took from that explanation that Matt was lying to him again.

Which, like, obviously.

But did Foggy need to know any of that?

Fuck no.

Only happy times with Matt Murdock here.

Smiling was somehow the wrong answer.

Smiling resulted in yelling. And then lots of loud heartbeats. And then something that looked a little like a fight, probably, to people with working eyes. But Matt knew that it wasn’t that.

It was just Foggy being hurt that Matt couldn’t tell him that Foggy’s homesickness was digging holes in his own resolve and mental wellbeing.

Sam popped up when Foggy went to go lay down to calm down and asked if everything was okay.

Matt told him it was.

Sam’s heart was not convinced. It started beating faster somehow.

Matt fully anticipated the texts that arrived later that night.

 ---

 PP: yo DD, you guys okay?

MM: why

PP: ‘cause Sam’s freaking out saying that you and Foggy were shouting again?

MM: ah

MM: no we’re okay. No biggie

PP: I smell bullshit

MM: carry on smelling then

PP: Matt do you ever think about how you’re like, an example to us all of how not to live?

MM: beg your pardon?

PP: I just mean like, you do shit and we all learn from your shit. Like, every day.

MM: ?

PP: Sam like dumped a pile of lies he’d been telling Ned in his lap and started crying for like half an hour and apologized for another 40 minutes and then hung up and won’t answer his phone.

MM: what was that face again? The cat one?

PP: OwO

MM: OwO

PP: lol

 ---

 The apprentice was perhaps absorbing too much too fast. He flat out denied having had any emotional crisis.

His heart was dead even when he said it. He was getting too good at out-maneuvering that trick.

“Peter seems to think that you had one the other night,” Matt mused.

“Peter needs to mind his own business,” Sam sniffed.

Aha.

“You like Peter,” Matt pointed out.

“He’s fine,” Sam said.

“Fine or fine?”

“That’s nasty, Teach. Don’t be gross. That’s like your little brother.”

Oh, sure it was.

“If Peter is sussing out your lies, you’re not doing a good enough job,” Matt said. “What you need, kiddo, is an aura and a starting point.”

Sam paused in making a horrible grating noise with some tool in his hand.

“A starting point?” he asked.

Why yes, apprentice.

As in, if you start off with your walls up and don’t let them buckle so easily, so many of these problems can be avoided.

“Isn’t that, like, the opposite of what Foggy said to do?” Sam asked suspiciously.

Well, technically. The husband might be correct for normal humans, but they weren’t normal humans. And as much as Matt loved him and thought he was brilliant, Foggy would never truly grasp that Matt needed those lies.

He needed the repression. The bottling. The anger.

He needed all that shit to be shaken up in him and then capped by the helmet every night.

Doing that kept Matt safe. It kept others safe.

It wasn’t fun and it wasn’t pretty and yeah, Matt was pretty fucked up because of it.

But Stick hadn’t been wrong about everything.

Not even he could be wrong about everything.

“It’s called balance,” Matt said. “Think about it like this. You’re a teacher. You’re about to walk into a new class. You need to establish a respectful relationship between yourself and these kids. How do you do it? Do you start off nice? Or do you start off strict?”

Sam said nothing.

“I start off strict,” Matt said. “Because it’s infinitely easier to become nicer and to keep respect than it is to start off nice and get meaner.”  

Sam processed this.

“This sounds like an anti-Foggy sentiment,” he said.

No. It wasn’t anti-Foggy. Nothing was anti-Foggy.

“It’s nuance,” Matt said. “Intrapersonal relationships? Minimal repression. Interpersonal relationships, maximum repression. Don’t give them something to use against you”

Sam’s teeth clicked together as he worked his jaw.

“Talk to Ned and Peter,” he said. “Walls up to everyone else.”

Everyone else. Yes.

“I can do that.”

Yeah, Matt knew. Sam did it to pretty much anyone he didn’t immediately take a liking to at the firm.

“I can do that,” Sam repeated.

Woah. Wait. Hold on there, slugger. Nuance, remember?

“I’m just gonna hate the entire world,” Sam said. “Thanks, Teach. That’s a big help.”

 ---

 PP: Matt

MM: Peter

PP: you know that Sam fucks with you daily right?

MM: …I forget sometimes

PP: lol you guys are funny

  That little shit. Fine.

Do whatever. See if Matt cared.

Goddamn kids and their goddamn love affairs.

Whatever. Fuck ‘em.

Let them learn the bullshit on their own time. Matt had better things to do.

 ---------------

Matt and Foggy and Kirsten have their own polycule goin on with folks entering and leaving it as need be. And sometimes you just have to make Sam/Ned content because it is unerringly adorable.

[ronnytherandom]

I forgot to watch content all week so i wrote about games ive been playing

9/2/2021: The Truman Show

You should fear your fears but embrace them and use them to guide you into the unknown, to explore and experience what life has to offer. Fear stands between you and the fullest experience of life so you must pass through it to better yourself. Heed not the walls built about you and the chains made to hold you. Though the architects insist it will preserve your life, containment is anathema to life. Do not take in faith the benevolence of powers that be; instead trust those who would support and liberate you, guide you through fear and into life.

As best I can lay it out, I think this is the philosophy of the Truman show but there is so much more to read into it also. There is critique of systems of commodification and celebrity (i.e. capitalism) reducing human beings to a consumable good as well as encouragement to find and pursue your goals despite adversity and even sensibility which is also tied to the illusion of economic responsibility. You can’t put a camera inside a human head, you can never “know” them without being an active and intrinsic part of their life, but also there is need for reciprocation. If one half exists with ulterior motive then the entire relationship is rotten; sincere humanity is what creates real connections. Without such your world is fake. A world built around one person is a world where no one can truly live. All these actors have given up basically their entire lives for the sake of watching Truman have his life built around him by outside forces, have allowed themselves to be commodified and dehumanised for the good of one man, Christoph. The man at the top has delusions of grandeur and thinks only of his own bottom line, he cares not for his subjects but simply wants them to do as he tells them because it benefits him to commodify their lives and interactions. Even then he cannot stand to lose control and in seeking to demonstrate Truman’s “realness” he structures his life so thoroughly that eventually there’s no reality left, only a script and adverts. But the people watching still empathise with Truman because everyone in the working class understands what it is to be trapped because real life is our own Truman show and one day we must all pass through fear, step out of the dome and create a real life for ourselves outside of the system of commodification which consumes everyone’s life and removes all realness and sincerity and emotional catharsis from it.

I unreservedly love this film.

14/2/2021: Assorted Game Reviews

Horizon Zero Dawn (Unfinished due to technical issues, 45 hours inc. parts of Frozen Wilds): This game is really cool and really fun. I think it is defined by its incredible setting which somehow creates a fresh feeling post-apocalyptic environment. Said environment creates intriguing alt-future lore and some very interesting environments to explore. I love the machine designs (especially tallnecks!) and was very sad to hear one of their contributing artists passed away recently but I’m glad their work lives on in this visually stunning game. I’m a sucker for Ubisoft-style open world games simply because it tickles a certain kind of itch and somehow this non-Ubisoft game has outdone Ubisoft on their own formula, which is hilarious, but also good for me as running around this world exploring and clearing map markers is engaging fun. Not least because of the combat. I have a minor criticism here that the combat feels slightly awkward on mouse and keyboard, the arrows never seem to go where I’m aiming, but aside from that the experience of fighting is a grand one. Enemies never lose their threat and I love the weak spot system the game employs which makes every tool useful in niche circumstance and rewards curiosity. It specifically manages this in a way that I feel the Witcher series could learn from if it ever returns; by making head on assault less viable and encouraging tactical hunting. I do feel this system makes hunting robots so fun that by contrast hunting humans becomes a chore however, though I noted this improves in the dlc with the addition of humans with elemental weaknesses limited in number as they are. I cannot speak for the story in entirety but what I encountered was pretty good, though I feel as if it was only just really getting going at the point where I could not continue. I find Aloy to be a compelling and well portrayed protagonist and though I can guess about her origin and the ultimate end of the alt-future apocalypse I still want to see how it plays out on screen, so will return to this as soon as I’ve fixed it.

Rimworld (122 hours. Familiar with but do not own Royalty Expansion):

Rimworld is one of those super special games that I don’t think I have a single problem with. Fair warning it can be brutal and is heavily dependent on RNG but this allows it to create truly unique and interesting scenarios on a constant basis. In the wider perspective it could be described as formulaic, with regular cycles of managing the settlement between raids and random events, but the devils in the details. Colonist traits, health and skills dictate how you play and sometimes you’ll be forced to adapt as some colonists simply refuse to perform some tasks. The depth of health particularly amuses me, in that each little part of someone’s body is modelled in a way. If you’re in a firefight you may take a single bullet which grazes your finger and you’re fine. Alternately it could pierce your human leather cowboy hat, your skull and kill you instantly and the game will tell you exactly what happened. The risk/reward element is addictive enough, and that’s without accounting for just how cool it is to see your colony slowly expand. Establishing more and more options for crafting is fun and shows off the full range of different items in the game which is fucking extensive. Between clothing, weapons, armour, sculpture and drugs to name only a few you have the opportunity to create many varied production lines either for your colonists or to trade for money and there is a lot of fun to be had here as well as it is quite satisfying to see psychoid you have grown personally become the cocaine your colonists snort to help them stay awake on limited sleep. From an archaeologist’s perspective it is especially cool to look back over your base and see the hints of how and why structures were built and remember the history of your limitations and development through structure. I think the lore of the universe is really cool too, a very 40k-esque kind of place except with far less order, somehow. But the universe does an excellent job of feeling alive and moving constantly on both a planetary and interstellar level. You can fully believe that while you build wooden shacks to shield yourself from terrifyingly low temperatures there are simultaneously rich pieces of shit living it up on the glitterworld that’s one system over. The music does an excellent job of creating the wild west frontier atmosphere the game cultivates to great effect. Ultimately, for just being a grid with a series of different numbers attached, this game does a fantastic job of creating a compelling, brutal and very real colony management experience. I dont think I can properly put into words the grandness and scope of this one. I didnt even mention the modding scene, which is expansive and tailors to basically any need you could have. The Rim is a terrifying place but theres so much fun to be had.

Factorio (86 hours, mostly 1.1): Having completed a game of Factorio I can tell you reliably that this is one of the best games ever made, thoroughly addictive and fun. If you like numbers, logistics, TRAINS, its gonna be your thing. Not to mention its probably the only documented case of a game with no bugs (so far as official forums are concerned). Strictly speaking this games combat is not the most engrossing thing but good lord do you feel it when you acquire a flamethrower. The way each aspect of the game (production, research, logistics, combat, upgrades for everything therein) feeds into the next is a really well constructed balancing act such that you must experience the full game in order to complete it and I always appreciate this kind of design. I think its one of the best tenets of factory game design especially as its something present in Satisfactory too. Beyond all of this generalised good the game is also excellent in its intricacies, the architecture necessary to build a maximum efficiency base, the level of planning and organisation that can be employed is mind-blowing. Not to mention the mod community, factorion is already an extensive experience and some mad bastards have seen fit to complicate it further, hats off to them. This really is a great moment in gaming.

 Destiny 2 (198 hours, all expansions, played some post Forsaken release, mostly Season of Arrivals onwards, spent roughly £20 on microtransactions):

This is a very interesting and enjoyable experience, but I must say it can be a bit controversial at times. What its does particularly well is moment to moment gameplay and design in all aspects. The game is stunning; between environments, cosmetics, shaders ships and ghosts there’s a vast range of incredible things to see, all rooted in the “pseudo-magi-science” aesthetic it’s got going on. The class design is excellent and you really do feel like you embody this rampaging madman / agile gunman / space wizard archetype, whichever you choose to play. The abilities, especially supers, are very satisfying. Everything has heft and power behind it which can be felt in all aspects of design; sound and animation is top notch. Movement is cool, you can feel how fast you move both on foot and in vehicles and the navigation has a little fun subtlety depending on your class jump, even if you can bounce unpredictably occasionally. But for the love of god why is the wall kick in there? It has only ever served to push me from a ledge into a bottomless pit. You're looking to remove antiquated content? Start there. Some guns are not so good to shoot but there’s such a great range of guns that are fun its like complaining about one drop in an ocean; and enemies are fun to shoot at, each faction distinct in meaningful ways and presenting an effective challenge. Speaking of oceans, that’s one way to describe the lore. I haven’t dived too deep but it keeps going down forever and everything I’ve read is intriguing. As a former Elder Scrolls lore nut this is something I could definitely sink my teeth into, though its much more of a pulpy sci-fi vibe than a pure nonsense vibe. I do think the game has a bit of a loot problem, primarily in regards to the conflict between high stats and looking good. This should never be a conflict, and yes you can apply ornaments to any purple gear but that’s not enough when I spend the entire time grinding power levels and thus must change armour and weapons on a constant basis to progress. This game needs a true transmog system and if not that, rethink how gear power level works. Perhaps rather than earning new instances of gear you always possess a version of it and the loot you acquire in missions just upgrades your instance to your current overall power level? This would serve to do away with the current upgrade system which I think is a needless additional grind. Perhaps it could be retained in using enhancement cores to empower gear as present but necessitating a whole upgrade module to keep your favourite weapon on hand is kind of painful honestly. There is also at present the issue of sunsetting gear, mildly controversial to say the least. If it’s necessary to streamline the game and make it function moving forward so be it but surely loot pools should be adjusted so you can actually get useful loot from older locations? And why sunset personal instances of gear which can be acquired at the regular power level anyway? I had to throw away my favourite bow and hunt down a new version of the exact same weapon for… what reason? I do think destination navigation leaves a little to be desired also. I get that having a physical hub world is meaningful but Destiny does not have a very extroverted community; I can count the times someone noticed me in the tower on one hand. And its not even like there’s fun activities to be found in the same sense as say Deep Rock Galactic, which really does take advantage of its hub. Perhaps for players who simply want to go about their business all of the vendors could be set into a menu system where just clicking an icon takes you to their menu from anywhere in the system rather than, per se, having to go through an entire loading screen (Which takes you to orbit and back) to reach a location which serves simply as the front for four menus. These are established player problems. As a dedicated PvE player I can say that this game is immensely fun in combat and growing in power does feel really good. It’s something I recommend getting into, there’s just some very large creases that need ironing which the Bungie should really take the time to address rather than pushing out new in game content every three months.

[promiseiwillwrite]

A God's Mind

Be advised, what I am about to write is something that was shown to me yesterday between asleep and awake by Loki.

It was a sharing between Loki and Me, and is therefore entirely Unverified Personal Gnosis.

Not that I have enough followers that it is going to matter to anyone ever.

Normally, when I interact with Loki, I see him and interact with him in the theater of my mind's eye. Sometimes, we are in a beautiful mansion that I've posted about on here before. Other times we speak in some outside, natural setting, or even Loki and Sigyn's House. Here recently, because of the Shadow work I have been doing, I have been working in a Black Space. There is literally nothing around me but the ambient light needed to see whichever part I am talking to/working with at the time.

It is boring and stripped down on purpose so I don't get distracted.

Last night when I closed my eyes to do this work before going to bed, I felt his presence. He hadn't been around in a while, and I know it's because I told him to go away in a fit of suicidal frustration about two weeks ago. I told him that what we've had is all in my head, and that I cannot possibly be meaningful for him when he has literally tens of thousands of followers/lovers and at LEAST two wives, and a Non-Zero number of Godspouses. I have had a lot of trouble defining what I want from relationships, and I feel like I don't even know what is Normal to want from them, or Right or Comfortable.

I don't have anything that feels like a valid frame of reference, and I have had huge anxiety about my Relationship to and with all of my deities as a result.

I want to be a healthy person, but I don't know if my attachment to them is healthy at all. I feel like probably not.

That aside, He started out acting like he was sad and was all curled up on the floor, and I went to him, and said I was sorry, and that I hadn't meant it, and that I had been really upset.

And then he sits up and he's standing and completely fine, and grinning meanly like, "I know."

And then he says, "Let's Go."

So I asked the question: "Where are we going?"

"You'll See."

And he turns, but holds a hand out to me, and I take it, and he leads me into a room full of strangely familiar people.

There were Hundreds of them. It was a big room.

I did not understand what was going on. They were lazing about, talking amongst themselves, in various states of undress, in various forms, and ages. Most of them paid me no attention.

And then I met a person who presented as a cute Asian girl with a lavender frost Pixie cut and a nose ring, with bare feet wearing a white shirt and baggy overalls. Fucking adorable. and SUPER Familiar. Like best friend, perhaps with benefits kind of vibes.

And I asked "Where are we?"

And Loki looked at me, and said. "Inside My Mind".

I was stunned. And I think I understood some stuff.

I have interpreted this to mean that Loki as a God is made up of the Gnosis of all his various Followers. Each of these people I was looking at was a part of Loki, just as I have many parts of my own mind. Angry parts, or nice parts that like tea on rainy days.

He's a Shape-Shifter god, and these were all the ways he is seen by his followers. But it was more than that... It was like these were the essence of the relationship he had with each of those followers, and that somehow he took a part of each one of them into himself, their ideas of him, and their interactions with him, and the energetic, emotional weight of those relationships... They were All a part of him.

All defining and Not defining the central essence of him, that core of Loki that Is Loki and Nothing Else, The Truth of Godself beholden to nothing, but constantly influencing and shaping him as a real, dynamic living thing, through connection. And More than the Sum of the Parts.

And if this understanding is correct... Then it means that Every relationship with a God is Essential to that God. Because it is part of the Very Fabric of their Being.

And for every God that really has the whole Self Love thing sorted, It means that this Love must extend to All their Parts, just as it does for Us.

And it means that all the parts of Godself that are Difficult, Like the Part of his Essence that is bound with his Son's Intestines across three sharp Ledges, These parts are bolstered and supported and Helped and Healed and held together with the Sanity Glue that the parts of All trauma survivors become. The Strong parts. The Kind Parts. The parts that reach out to make connections.

That's also how he Handles Godding... How he can be enough for all the Godspouses and the Wives and the Children. How he can be special to and for and with all those who ask. Because there are Many of him to go around. And every one who asks, Every one who reaches out to Genuinely know... Just adds to what he is capable of.

"Because you wanted to know how you could Possibly be Special to me."

He answered the question because I kept telling him that I Couldn't be special to him. I can really only know him as well as I can understand love and connection, and the degree to which I want those things. I don't know how well I understand, but I Really Do want the connection, even when I am ready to run from it, or I convince myself I have to do without in order to find out what healthy looks like.

I thought about this, today as I was running, because I feel like it helps me understand other people's relationships to gods. And my relationships to Other gods.

Like Jörmungandr, for instance. If the way I see him is Radically Different from the way Most people see him, is it not that much more important, in that it allows him the choice to be another way, to have traits that I've seen or imagined in him, that maybe others have not?

And is that, then, Not Also true of Other People?

That if you are curious about a person, and you talk to them, and get to know them, that you will see all these different parts, and that you will see value in them that maybe they cannot? And that maybe it will help them to believe in themselves, because You believe in them and Love them for who they are? And that you might remind them that They have a Choice in who they are, and how they experience their lives?

And then, of course, Full Circle, Here...

If you look at your Own Self... And all your parts, all the lumps bumps bruises and Monsters rattling the bars of their cages down in the dark... If you are curious about the parts that cry at night, and go to help, that Maybe you can make those changes, and remember that you are worth believing in, and that you have a Choice in your Experience of your Life, and that you can Love yourself, for who you are.

Maybe who we are IS more like a god than I thought. Maybe who we are is deeply colored by our relationships with others, and that through those relationships we exist as More than we would otherwise be. More versatile, resilient and able to handle the shit show of life.

You are not alone.

Want to Know.

[embracethecringeside]

OK, here's one: do you think that there's any genuine good in Rick? I can't make up my mind about that one. I don't think he's evil or a sociopath (a lot of fans called him that in the early days, that term is so misused), but his intense self-hatred seems to be the only redeeming thing about him. He must have some sense of morality because he knows he's done horrible things, but he makes zero effort to stop doing horrible things unless it benefits him somehow.

My short answer is yes, Rick has genuine good wrapped up in there but my full answer is a bunch of examples from the show that I would like to call Soft Sanchez moments, where Rick either does something good/says something real and genuine/or his goodness is talked about in some fashion.

Meeseeks and Destroy 

Morty: Look, I want to leave now. You win the bet, okay? (Searches Rick's lab coat for the portal gun) Just give me the portal gun and let's go, please!

(Rick sees the badly beaten Mr. Jelly Bean walk out of the bathroom and pieces together what happened)

Morty: Please, I just want to... go h-home. (Tears up and holds onto Rick)

Rick: Okay. Listen, Morty. I just won a bunch of shmeckels. Why don't we use 25 of them to pay slippery stair here for a ride back to the village, and then we'll give the rest of the shmeckels to the villagers, huh?

Morty: Really?

Rick: Sure, Morty. Yeah. You know, a good adventure needs a good ending.

Rick: Good job, Morty. Looks like you won the bet.

Morty: Thanks, Rick, but I don't know if I should. You know, you were right about the universe. It's a crazy and chaotic place.

Rick: Well, you know, maybe that's why it could use a little cleaning up every now and then, you know. This one's wrapped up neat and clean because we did it Morty style.

(They portal away, but Rick makes another portal back and sticks an energy pistol through it and shoots Mr. Jelly Bean, splattering him all over the screaming villagers)

A Rickle In Time

(Puts his own collar on Morty, who disappears) 

Rick: I'm okay with this. Be good Morty. Be better than me. Holy shit, the other collar! I'm not okay with this! I am not okay with this! Oh, sweet Jesus please let me live. Oh, my God I—I've gotta fix this thing, please God in Heaven, please, God, oh Lord, hear my prayers. Yes! Fuck you God! Not today, bitch.

Mortynight Run

Rick: Screw this. I’m out.

(Rick forms a portal and leaves through it. Morty tries to start the car as a Gromflomite approaches, but it stalls.)

Morty: Oooh…! Come on, come on!

Gromflomite: Get out of the vehicle made of garbage or we will open fire!

Morty: *still trying to start the car* Oh no no no!

Gromflomite: Open fire!

(A portal appears directly above the guards and water pours out of it, flooding the room. Another portal appears on the floor, and the water and Gromflomites are sucked into it. A third portal then appears and Rick emerges through it, walking up to the car.)

Rick: Stupid-ass fart-saving carpet-store motherfucker! *shoves Morty out of the driver’s seat and takes the wheel* Move!

Auto Erotic Assimilation 

Rick: You got that right. But... baby, listen. Y-you're talking about taking over planets and galaxies, you gotta... you gotta just... remember to let go sometimes, you know.

Unity (Administrator): I can let go! Hey, look! You see that town across the river? Watch this.

(Planes fly past and bomb the town, blowing it all up)

Rick: Whoa!

Unity (Administrator): Ha ha! Woot!

Rick: Whoa! That's not what I meant!

Unity (Administrator): [laughing] It's okay! It's okay, I evacuated! I evacuated the town, look!

Unity (Townspeople): Hey! Right here! We’re fine!

Rick: (laughing) Oh, that was awesome! My grandkids weren't in that town, right? A-are my grandkids alive? ... H-hey, my drink is empty

Get Swifty 

Rick: Take it from me, Ice. *burp* You can’t just *burp* float around space not caring about stuff forever.

Morty: Tammy… gross. Birdperson, you always stick up for Rick, but he doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He doesn’t think about the consequences of anything he does.

Birdperson: And as a result, he has the power to save or destroy entire worlds. And he is the reason you and I know each other. And the reason I’m alive at all.

Look Who’s Purging Now

Arthrisha: Wait, stop! Please, don't kill me! I-I never intended to harm you, I swear. I am trying to end the festival. W-w-what do you mean? I was going to use your ship to destroy the rich assholes that run our society and save my people from the horrors of this yearly festival.

Rick: I'm not here to judge. I'm just a guy from another planet. But this girl is one of your poor people, and I guess you guys felt like it was okay to subject her to inhuman conditions because there was no chance of it ever hurting you. It's sort of the socio-political equivalent of, say, a suit of power armor around you. But now things are evened out, so, Arthrisha?

Morty: I can't help but feel ashamed about what I did back there, Rick. I guess you were right. I've got a lot of repressed stuff. I need to deal with. 

Rick: Don't worry about it, Morty.Remember those candy bars earlier that we got in the first act? 

Morty: Yeah, what about them? 

Rick: Turns out they have a chemical in them called purgenol that amplifies all your violent tendencies. 

Morty: Oh, boy. Whew! Thank goodness for that, huh? That's a relief. 

Rick: Yep. Don't even sweat. You're still the same old Morty. Your character's totally protected. (camera pans out to reveal the label on the chocolate bars reads “now purgenol-free”)

The Wedding Squanchers

BirdPerson: The guest list at this wedding includes 17 of the federation's most wanted. We have committed numerous atrocities in the name of freedom.

Rick: But... but... Here's the thing. Birdperson is my best friend, and if he loves Tammy, well, then I love Tammy, too. (Cheers and applause) To friendship, to love, and to my greatest adventure yet... opening myself up to others.

The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy

Rick: And you know what? I’ll cop to it. I put a lot of strain on your marriage. It wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.

Jerry: What?!

Rick: I didn’t respect your marriage. I certainly didn’t do it any favors. And for what it’s worth, I’ll apologize to Beth for it when we get home. Whoo! Whirly Dirly! Yeah!

Pickle Rick

I’m trying to let the scripts show all the ways Rick is good before I jumped in but since this is really weird without just watching the episode I’ll just explain that Rick doesn’t kill Jaguar after he finds out he has a daughter and then they work together to escape. 

The Old Man and The Seat

Tony: Can I look at a photo of my wife while you kill me?

Rick: Sure, but I'm doing her a favor. She either has terrible taste, or she's trapped in a marriage to a toilet thief. 

Tony: She's dead. And I don't mind joining her. Life has been hollow since I lost her. Using your toilet was nice, though. I'm a bit of a shy pooper. I'm ready when you are. 

Rick: Stay there. (goes through a portal, comes back with another Tony) Tell him what you told me.

Other Tony: What is this? What's happening? 

Rick: Tell him what you told me. 

Other Tony: My wife's still alive. Sh... sh... she went into remission 10 years ago.

Rick: And what did you do today? 

Other Tony: Oh, I, uh, pooped on a really awesome toilet I found... Oh, ow, ow, ow, ow, oh! (Rick shoves him back through the portal)

Rick”: Don't use your dead wife as an excuse. You ( Bleep ) on my toilet because you don't know your place, and your place is nothing. So next time you stumble onto a toilet that feels too good for your ass, trust me, it is. 

Tony: You're not gonna kill me?

Rick: Don’t tell me what to do!

Tony: You can make a perfectly-realized, toilet-filled simulation of heaven, but you can't share a toilet? 

Rick: Don't insult my craft. The chemical is Globaflyn. It connects the whatever-you-want section of your brain to the whatever-you-have section. If your heaven is toilets, that's on you. 

Tony: All of these people... 

Rick: Are living their wildest, meaningless dreams and leaving me out of them.

Tony: People you refuse to kill and refuse to let into your life.

Star Mort Rickturn of the Jerry

(Rick reveals he has saved what he could of PhoenixPerson)

Okay and on to the big one where I am actually going to talk instead of just letting the script go off Rest and Ricklaxation. We see two sides of Rick, Healthy Rick and Toxic Rick. After Healthy Morty slaps Healthy Rick, and he slaps him back, he discovers the machine doesn’t actually know the difference between what is truly healthy and whats actually toxic, it goes by each person’s individual definition. Shortly after we as the audience learn that Healthy Rick? Is actually apathetic. He doesn’t care about others. All the caring and emotions are wrapped up in Toxic Rick. Everything Healthy Rick did and said is all stuff he believes are good, he apologies, he takes responsibility for his actions, he’s polite, he’s trusting, and he doesn’t try to control others, but he is doing all of this simply because he thinks he should. So it is completely selfless when he makes the bargain so Toxic Rick will merge with him, because, and he even says it, he hates having what he considers his toxins inside of him, but it’s the right thing to do.

Then of course Healthy Rick calls Toxic Rick out, knowing that he is the one with all his, “irrational attachments” as he puts it, and as much as Toxic Rick no longer wishes to be a part of Healthy Rick, he merges with him under the pretence that he will then be able to save Toxic Morty. Both act selflessly for different reasons, Healthy Rick believing it is the right thing to do, while Toxic Rick does it for Morty. 

So do I believe that there is good in Rick?? Heck yes!! Good is stored in the garbage grandpa! 

[solastia]

Day 19

Break My Stride, Yoongi x Jungkook, ABO, 4/4 Chapters, 14k words

YOU KNOW MY DRAMATIC ASS SAVED THIS FOR A FRIDAY! If y'all thought my screeching was annoying before, be prepared for about 10x more screeching and indecipherable noises. As the very wise Deadpool once said, “MAXIMUM EFFORT!”

First off, congratulations because this was your first fic to reach 10k hits (and it’s now at 34K hits, whaaaa??!! A few hundred of those may possibly be from me...possibly...probably...most definitely! lmao)

You know my fave ship is Yoonmin (I don’t take shipping irl seriously, don’t come for me plz) but I absolutely LOVE the dynamics between Kookie and Yoongi in this fic. Your writing, the plot, the dialogue, the whole thing is just top tier deliciousness every step of the way. It is scrumptious, mouth watering, exquisite, uuugh *chef’s kiss* bellissimo!

Ok, LOTS OF SPOILERS BECAUSE THIS FIC IS MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT FICTIONAL STORY AND Y’ALL CAN’T STOP ME, MUAHAHAHA!

In the beginning of the story, you create a sense of home for the audience. We feel like we know these characters, we get a sense that they’ve been a group of friends for a very long time, and they each hold a special part of each other’s lives, and it’s freaking beautiful.

“Yoongi shook his head and started picking the olives off his slice of pizza. When he turns to his right to give the olives away, he realizes why he’d felt something was wrong.”

You see! He hadn’t even realized that Kookie was missing, but he felt like something was off.

Oh! And I wanted to ask you about the idea for a mating run! I’ve never read anything like this before, it was an interesting concept to think about. And this would be Yoongi’s 8th run! Oh babey, he was just waiting for the right mate…

“He wasn’t sure what it was, but the image of Jungkook finding someone during the run made him feel…itchy.”

Our boi is already jealous at just the idea of Kookie finding a mate (other than him ofc, but he doesn’t know that yet, bwahahahaha!!)

“Good idea, you’re going to need all the rest you can get,” Seokjin says with an ominous smirk.”

I SHOULD GIVE YOU THE SAME WARNING SEOKJINNIE!!!

“There were even booth setups for merchandise and food.”

OMG, I could see Hobi or Jin buying some cheesy “I survived the 20__ Run and All I Got Was This Shirt”. Or maybe a beer cozy!

“No, he said that would be pointless because his mate’s a cheating cheater that plays dirty. He said the chances of them covering their scent were high. He’s making sure his den is ready,” Seokjin scoffed.

Yoongi accepted the drink Jimin handed him and chuckled. “Sounds like I might actually like them.”

“You have no idea,” Jin said with a snort”

Yoongi, are you so jaded, so blind by your general saltiness that you are not understanding the very obvious clues being thrown your way?!?!?! Kookie, where are you? Put this man in his place please!!

And then when he was told that Kook bought that house he’d had his eyes on for years, uughhh, I was hurting for our Yoonie!

“Yoongi suddenly felt like crying, but he settled for collapsing onto the bench and clenching his fist.”

AAAHHH! But wait a little while Yoongi, I promise all this hurt will be over soon!

“Suddenly, Namjoon growled menacingly, startling everyone. Hoseok looked over to the spot where Namjoon was steadily staring, curiosity in his gaze before it too hardened and he started glaring with bared teeth. A random city Alpha that had been approaching them instantly halted, hands out in surrender.”

HOW COULD I FORGET THIS SUB-PLOT!!! Jin was over there laughing at how oblivious Yoongi was, and he isn’t any better, is he?!? Imagine having Joon and Hobi scaring the competition away like that??!! I would take them home immediately!

“There’s a huge plush rug and plenty of blankets, big fluffy pillows, a little stash of food and entertainment. I even put scent blockers around so no one would smell anything coming from inside,” Yoongi preened as he thought of his perfect hideaway.

Yoongi would def be one to make his little den as comfortable as possible! But I just thought of something. In your earlier description of Yoongi’s apartment, he said it was a bit stark and lacked any real decor. BUT he went out of his way to make this den as comfortable as possible. He bought a string of fairy lights, and he had to go to the big city to get them! It’s almost like it was fate, or maybe deep down he knew that something was going to happen, and he was inadvertently nesting! (please insert “I’ve connected the dots” meme here)

“He was sure there were plenty of Alphas running around with those piercings and Kook’s ginormous honker of a nose.”

:|

Was it really Kook? Or is our boy so in love that he sees Kookie wherever he goes? Lmao!

“Yoongi was about to show this guy that he wasn’t someone to be messed with and he wouldn’t be dragged off to be someone’s good little Omega bitch. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the taser he’d packed just in case.”

OMG, Yoongi is not messing around, absolutely zero chill!

“It seemed presenting had changed him physically as well, shooting him up a couple inches so he towered over Yoongi even more than usual. His arms and legs were rippling with muscle that even the black tracksuit he was wearing couldn’t hide. His face was still the same though; the innocent grin an interesting contrast with the buff build.”

SIR!! My heart cannot take this punishment! And OFC he’s a Prime Alpha, Kookie doesn’t know how to half-ass anything!

“And just like he had a million times before, Yoongi gave in like the soft ass bitch he was.”

He really is soft for all of them!!! Yoongi will let them do whatever they want with him, he’ll complain the entire way but we all know he secretly loves it!

“Yoongi dared a quick look behind him, audibly gulping at the sight of the Alpha staring at his ass like he was a starving man at an all you can eat buffet. Jungkook was grinding his jaw and had his nails dug into the dirt like he was trying to control himself.”

I mean, we’ve all seen the Yoonbooty. It does look very biteable. Relatable AF Kook!

“Jungkook continued poking around in things; picking up a candle to sniff, trying to sneak a peek into the duffle bag, ruffling around in the bag of snacks - all while stealing glances at the bed in the middle of the room. “

WAY TO NOT BE OBVIOUS KOOK!!!

“What are you doing, Kook? You’re wasting time here when you should be out there chasing down your mate. They are probably wondering where you are.”

“They know where I am.”

“You told them you were going to hang out with me and they were fine with it?”

“Hyung, you’re usually so smart. Think about it.”

Every time I read this, I die a little bit inside (in a good way, I promise). Yoongi’s whole world is about to be turned upside down, and he has no idea!!!

“The house…”

Jungkook’s eyes softened, smiling fondly at him. “I bought it for you, hyung. Whether you choose me today or not, it’s yours.”

I cry.

What a courting gift!!! Kook doesn’t understand subtlety, does he??!! And how selfless is this? This is a no-strings attached gift, given to Yoongi out of love.

I cry.

“I love the way we are now, equals with a little bit of babying me on the side,” Jungkook grins when Yoongi snorts, shaking his head fondly at the other.”

I would like to see that please.

AND THEN THIS LINE:

“Omega,” Jungkook says softly, so rife with emotion that Yoongi can hear everything he’s trying to say in just that one word. “May I enter your nest?”

This is it, this is as far as I go fam. I have been destroyed with six whole words. How can such a simple statement hold so much emotion, so much hopeful pleading?

And then the whole interaction on the bed! Yoongi asking if he wants to play cards (bwahahaha, sure Jan), Kookie being prepared to wipe away all the descenting salve, Kook getting scent high, YOONGI’S GRANDPA RUN, those first initial uses of pet names, everything was so intimate and playful. It was beautiful!

“I bet I could easily pick you up and fuck you against a wall sometime if you wanted. Maybe even have you straddle my shoulders and I could suck you off that way,” Jungkook muses so matter of factly despite the subject matter, and Yoongi can feel himself get wetter by the second.”

Aaaaaaand there’s the emotional whiplash I’ve come to love from you!

“Whatever you want. You’re in charge.”

Kookie being selfless again! I cannot! It’s about these little things that are done between partners that really matter. Kook is a newly presented virgin Prime Alpha in the midst of a claiming, and his first priority is still making sure Yoongi feels good. He’s giving him all the power here.

“Good,” Yoongi yawns loudly and throws a couple of blankets over them, tangling their legs together. “Later we can try the thing with the nipples.”

Again, I would like to see that please.

“Suddenly, Yoongi’s eyes shoot open and he gasps.

“Oh shit! Your brother is going to kill me!”

Jungkook merely laughs”

😂😂😂

“I’ll give you some meat,” Yoongi grumbles playfully as he climbs off the bed, stretching his aching limbs.

“I mean, I’m down for anything,” Jungkook giggles.”

Not to sound like a broken record, but...I WOULD LIKE TO SEE THAT PLEASE

“Jungkook walked straight towards the first woman he saw with a clipboard, blindsiding the stunned woman with one of his lethal smiles while he wrapped an arm around Yoongi’s waist to pull him close.

“Hi! We both need mating packets.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes because he could tell that Jungkook was practically bragging instead of just asking like a normal person.”

He’s practically bragging about Yoongi being his mate! I have a feeling Kookie is going to be unbearable to be around in the upcoming weeks.

And then we get a teeny tiny peek at the Nam-Jin-Hobi subplot and ooomg I hope you’re able to explore this particular pairing in the future. There is so much potential there for steamy/fluffy scenes!

“I just mean, like, soulmates. You know? Maybe we were supposed to meet to help each other find our mates. Or maybe we are all soulmates in various forms.”

DON’T! DON’T HURT ME THIS WAY, I CANNOT AND WILL NOT SURVIVE!

AAAAH this fic was wonderful! It feels complete the way you ended it, but I am definitely still craving more! Good job, dayumm!

It still amazes me how many people have read this one lol. But yeah, this is one of my favorites too. I do have other side stories that I’m working on for this one, including one from Jk’s birthday and another for Namjinseok.

I just really really love writing people that are so unapologetically whipped. Like, it’s such a major thing for me because in real life there are a ridiculous amount of people that are embarrassed to show how much they care about their SO, and like, why? Why are you even with them if you’re so embarrassed to show them any affection? Show the world that you are proud they choose to be with you, show your person that they are precious. I’m not even saying buy them shit all the time (because for some reason het males seem to think that’s what everyone means). I mean hold their damn hand, write them a note, tell them they are pretty. There’s a reason that a person who technically still identifies as gay man is in a steady relationship with me, a pan woman. And it’s because I fucking treat him like he’s the reason my heart beats and I’m not ashamed to show the world. Ok, I’m ranting now lol. I’ll stop. But you get the picture.

[staarshines]

Attached: Chapter 2

Warnings: Spoilers for 6 Underground, mentions of hydrogen peroxide, mentions of a wound, mentions of death, dumping Six’s body, One being a hardass, champagne, cursing

Word Count: 1.9k

You know you’re not supposed to get close to the ghosts since their line of work is so dangerous, but you can’t help but fall in love with one of them. Being “Zero” means the ghosts are your top priority. But when you almost die putting them first, a certain blond wants you to rearrange those priorities.

[A/N]: I was literally overwhelmed by the amount of feedback on Part 1, I literally love you all!! This is basically me giving you guys closure from the last part. The next part is gonna have a shit ton more action and is hopefully going to end with fluff. Enjoy, lovelies!

“You two are fucking impossible!” Your eyes fly open to One yelling at someone but you don’t dare move, taking in your surroundings. 

You were resting your head on someone’s lap and they were gently running a hand through your hair. Four. You’d know those hands anywhere. You’re on your left side in the backseat of what should be the car you, Four, and Three had arrived at the garage in. The rest of your body is on another lap, no, two more laps. One was in the passenger’s and judging from the height and stature of the driver, it was Three. Which meant Five and Two were in the back with you and Four. Six always refused to sit in the backseat. Oh god. Six. You nearly throw up at the thought of him being in the trunk, zipped up in a bag.

“One, you’ll wake her up—”

“What’s the first rule about being a ghost?” He asks Four, ignoring his concern towards you. “Don’t get attached. What did you idiots do? Get attached!” Fuck One, keep it down. Your leg is still stinging from all the peroxide and something is binding it, but it hasn’t been stitched.

“We’re not attached!” Four’s voice falters, and you’re pretty sure everyone hears it.

“I don’t know about her because she is very good at hiding her emotions,” Apparently not from a former CIA spy, you think, “but the entire team has seen the way you look at her. You’re. Attached.” What? What is he talking about?

“Am not,” Four tries, but One has already made up his mind.

“You held her hand like she was in labor or some shit.” He held my hand? Also, fuck you, One. I’ll stick a knife in your leg and see how well you fare.

“One, it was deep,” and “You’re really not capable of emotion, are you?”, is what you hear from Two and Four at the same time.

“She can handle it,” he dismisses, but is immediately interrupted by Two.

“I swear to god, if I hear you talk shit about Zero one more time, I will use you as a shooting target.” 

You laugh softly, slowly turning on your back and startling the Two, Four, and Five. “Don’t worry, Two. We all know he loves me,” you direct towards him, sarcasm practically dripping from your voice. One turns around, cocking an eyebrow, to which you just stick out your tongue in response. A slight chuckle escapes Four and you look back up at him, trying to figure out what was going on behind those emerald green eyes.

“Attached,” you hear One mutter, but before you can start arguing with him, Three starts talking.

“How are you feeling, chica?” He adjusts the rearview mirror to get a better view of you and you smile in return. 

“Better. How am I doing?” You ask nobody in particular, glancing at your leg. Duct tape? Huh. 

“You’re fine,” Five forces a smile, and you practically roll your eyes.

“Really, Five? Did you forget you’re bad at fooling people?”

“That easy to read, am I?”

You shrug. “I’ve been watching a lot of Criminal Minds lately. Not to mention I live with a former CIA spy. Fuck, I forgot! How are you?” You look at Two, and she smirks.

“Better than you.” You grin at her response but glare at Five, still expecting an adequate answer.

“You’re going to need a transfusion eventually—”

“and I have O Neg,” you finish for her. “Plus, we don’t have any blood, which I have been telling One for months—”

“I didn’t know the mission would go this badly,” he retorts, causing you to flinch. Before Two can pull out her gun, Five quickly regains control of the conversation.

“I checked our files and it turns out Four has O Neg too. I’m going to set him up for a transfusion when we get back on the jet.” 

Thank you, you mouth, to which he nods. One mutters something you can’t quite make out, but you don’t have the energy to continue arguing, so you just drop it. The rest of the ride is silent as you doze off once again to the bumps on the road, thinking about a certain blond-haired, green-eyed Brit.

A pair of hands shake you awake and you moan in annoyance, wrapping your arms around Four’s torso. 

“Zero, wake up. We’re here.” The statement causes you to sit up in confusion, seeing a harbor instead of the usual desert. 

“A slight change from trailers and abandoned planes in a desert, don’t you think?” You ask Five, who’s motioning you out of the car. Her smile falters and before you can ask why, you remember. Six. You guys had to dump Six. Shit, how out of it were you? “Sorry,” you mutter to Four, realizing all the discomfort you must’ve caused him

“You’re fine, love,” he yawns, stretching his arms. Fuck, his sleepy voice was hot. Getting out of the car with Four and Five’s help, you rest against the closed passenger door on your good leg. Your senses pick up the strong scent of raw fish and yelling of angry fishermen as you shield your eyes from the sun that was about to set.

“Does she give good roadhead?” You hear One ask Four as he closes the door. You just roll your eyes as Three and Give give him annoyed looks but Two smirks. Four clenches his jaw, shooting One a look and motioning for your arm. You gratefully put your right arm around his shoulder, using him as a crutch. Eyes following One and Three as they walk over to the back of the truck, your lips purse. Four seems to notice and slowly starts walking towards the dock, causing you to as well. 

Once you two are far away enough from the team, you mutter, “It still hasn’t hit me.”

“I know, Zero. I know.”

Fuck, how far out were you guys going? It had been at least thirty minutes. Probably closer to the airstrip now. 

One and Four were on the higher deck piloting, although you could hear snippets of him lecturing Four, as if he hadn’t heard enough in the car. Your eyes sweep the boat for Two and Three who you find near the front, chitchatting. There was something there. No, they weren’t fucking, but as sly as two thought she was, you had noticed the lingering touches and increased time they spent together. 

“Zero, you need to get some rest,” Five tells you gently, pulling up a wooden crate to sit next to you. 

“That’s what I’ve been doing,” you snap suddenly, immediately feeling bad when you see her flinch. “Sorry. I just hate being told what to do. It makes it worse when whoever’s telling me is right,” you motion from her to your leg. 

She smiles and leans forward, resting her forearms on her thighs. “I know. And that’s not such a bad thing either. It’s one of the main reasons you’re here.” You nod, casting a look back at Four. His hands were crossed across his chest and was deep in thought; him and One had stopped bickering. 

You turn back to Five, contemplating what you were about to ask her. “How does he look at me?”

She smirks, glancing from Four to you. “You two would be the cutest couple,” she exaggerates, putting both hands over her heart. You laugh and push her shoulder. “But in all seriousness, Zero, he looks at you like…” she trails off, looking around as if she was trying to find some inspiration. “He looks at you like you’re his ocean, and he’s begging to drown.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words and you steal another look at Four, wishing you were in his arms. “That was good,” you say in an attempt to regain your posture. Fuck, the things he could do to you without him even knowing. “Where’d you read that?” She scoffs and you can’t help but grin.

The boat starts to slow down and you take a look around. Offshore enough so you can still see the coastline, but far enough that he would sink and not be pushed to shore. 

Five gets up, offering a hand which you gladly take. Limping over to the side of the boat, you sit on the ledge and watch as the team pulls Six’s body bag out from some crates where he’d been hidden, hoisting him up onto the ledge. Two unzips the bag just enough to see his face and from your angle, some heavy rocks so he wouldn’t float up to the surface. Blinking rapidly so as to not let tears form, you gently lean over, brushing his hair to the side and press a soft kiss to his forehead.

“See ya later, M,” your voice breaks. M was the first letter of his name and the nickname you had given him when you got tired of calling him Six; One had nearly killed you.

You don’t know how long passes but eventually, Three zips up the bag and the team throws him into the water. One leaves, probably getting alcohol for a toast, and the entire team stands in silence. Four comes up and leans on the ledge next to you. You’re starting at the fast-approaching sunset, wondering how the hell the world just kept on spinning, how people just kept on going.

One returns with—you had guessed correctly earlier—champagne and six glasses. Six glasses. How ironic. He pours everyone a glass then sets the bottle on a wooden crate.

“Here’s a toast… To a kid I really liked.��� Everyone puts their glasses up but nobody bothers to clink, presumably too focused on Six. One, Two, and Four down their glasses while Three just sets his down and Five swirls hers around. You haven’t even looked at what brand champagne it is, much less drank it, which is odd of you.

 “What was his name?” You hear Five ask. Nobody answers, not even you.

“Did he have any family?” Two crosses her arms.

“I think you’re looking at it,” you tell her, still not having touched your drink. “How long until we get back?” You ask suddenly, startling everyone. For some reason, you just had the overwhelming urge to get the hell out of here. 

“Forty-five minutes to the airstrip and it’s a five hour flight from there,” One responds, starting to walk towards the upper deck. The entire team disperses, leaving just you and Four.

“Drink it,” you hear him tell you softly, nodding to the glass when your eyes fall on him. “It’ll help with the pain.” You give him a half-hearted smile and take a sip as he returns to scanning the horizon.

The sunlight fell on him perfectly, highlighting his striking green eyes that you loved with all your heart. Tufts of now orange-golden hair were blocking his view, but he didn’t seem to take heed. 

God, you had fallen hard for him. Did he really want to drown?

Masterlist

Permanent: @becausewhyknotme​​​, @criminal-cookies​​​, @theladyoffangorn​​​, @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad​​​, @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam​​​, @agentpeggybarnes​​​

6 Underground: @proffesionalclown​​​

“Attached”: @samxslaughter​​​, @bralessandflawless, @rintheemolion​​​, @brianandthemays​​​, @iloveyou3000and5​​​, @sloantravels​​​, @lady-sloan, @rainbow-eyed-queen​​​, @disaster-gay-in-a-nutshell​​​ 

[bigskydreaming]

If your basis for saying that the reason you dislike Dick ‘taking away’ Robin from Tim is that it was like stripping Tim of the last remainder of his father, Bruce, then just say you hate Dick Grayson and go.

No matter that Robin is permanently associated with Bruce....it does not come from Bruce! It is not Bruce’s!

By your own logic, that taking Robin away from Tim, Dick was taking away a reminder of Tim’s father.....your own logic declares that every time Robin is taken away from Dick or deemed outside his control, its taking away the last reminder of HIS parents....you just don’t care, because Dick’s sentimentality towards his parents is meaningless to you.

That double standard does not work. Again. Tim being upset about how the Robin transition was handled? Totally understandable. Tim victimized by how the Robin transition was handled, with his victimizer being Dick himself, the actual creator of the mantle for his own reasons that no Jason or Tim stan that I’ve seen ever seems to feel the slightest inclination to acknowledge? NOT understandable.

It is messed up that so many people hijack the emotional and sentimental significance of Robin in order to deem those deep connections to it, only something Jason and Tim understand and share, whereas Dick himself gets.....no say, no sentiment, no attachment, no rights. 

Has it really escaped so many peoples’ notice that there’s more hostility towards Dick for ‘taking away’ Robin (I will always use quote marks with that because compared to Robin definitively being taken from Dick, it is NOT what happened with Tim).....but when you’re still more mad about that than Bruce taking it from Dick, even when you reference that being the continuity you’re going with in your own fics, that he was definitively fired and stripped of his own mantle by Bruce....how does that not seem backwards to you? 

I’m genuinely confused. How can you see such deep and meaningful attachment/connection between Tim and the Robin mantle (and to be clear, I see it too! I’ve never said that I didn’t!) but at the same time never demonstrate any awareness of Dick having even a similar degree of feeling towards the mantle, let alone more given the additional meanings it holds for him than the others on top of what it means to all of them?

Like, when you write over and over about Tim holding a grudge or still nursing resentment for this years after it happens.....why do you just take it for granted that all of Dick’s own resentment for it so frequently being out of his control has just....evaporated, years ago? Why is he the one who’s not allowed to hold a grudge, still nurse bitterness himself? Why isn’t he years later still allowed to be ticked at Bruce for it, and the fact that Bruce never actually acknowledged his wrongdoing here in canon? Why isn’t Dick allowed to express resentment that the very bond all his brothers get to share in because of him and no one else, has like....become the very thing they’re all so often written resenting him for?

Just for five seconds, imagine you’re Dick Grayson, and you created your superhero persona to be a memorial to your parents, your first family, to be a constant reminder of the love you felt for them and they for you.

And now skip to the future, when you’ve shared this very same mantle signifying family with three of your brothers, and two of them are a vast majority of the time viewed as hating, resenting, envying or just in some way, shape or form...not liking you, because of this mantle that you had every right in the world to say no, this is mine, if anyone else is going to be Batman’s partner after me, that’s fine, but they have to make their own mantle. My tribute to my family doesn’t get to be passed around to a bunch of people who couldn’t give a single shit what it means to me, that it was my family.

Like. LOLOL I know I constantly harp on this but that’s because it constantly repeats, a recurring pattern that’s alive and well in at least a couple new fics a week, something like ten years after this happened in canon. And its just really frustrating to see in all these fics that are in various ways prioritizing the Batfam as a FAMILY....like, I think it would probably be different if the fandom itself usually only viewed and depicted Robin as Batman’s partner. Then I could somewhat understand the viewpoint that Dick took something away from Tim rather than just expand a circle of family he still very much was shown to include Tim in.....then I could understand the focus on Robin existing more to be Batman’s partner than as a mantle embodying the found family/family of choice concept that binds all of these siblings together....with the linked view that the Robin mantle isn’t really Dick’s anymore, but rather as the partner of Batman, its Batman’s to regulate, hence why it wasn’t as big a deal when Bruce stripped Dick of the mantle.

Except.....ummm...first off, Dick was literally Batman at the time? Even though he didn’t want to be, hated having to shoulder that burden, he stepped up and did it because everyone told him it was what Gotham needed, that he needed to do it....

But bizarrely, even though Dick was Batman at this time, even by that logic, that its Batman’s partner and thus Batman’s to regulate and give away like he did with Dick....its still deemed that even as Batman, Dick didn’t have the right to definitively decide who needed to be his partner and why.

So as Robin, Dick didn’t get ownership of the mantle he’d created to honor his parents, because it’d been superseded at that point by being Batman’s partner, and thus it was Batman’s to do with as he pleased.

But then as Batman, Dick still didn’t get back ownership of the mantle he’d created, because it was still superseded by being Batman’s partner but....Dick wasn’t really the real Batman....whereas Tim definitively was a real Robin whose emotional attachment to the mantle was more important than what the acting Batman decided to do with it?

This is the rant I’m always making about Dick being allowed zero agency in any of his stories, in any aspect of his character.

Over and over and over again we see the refrain repeating that in story or out of story, in universe or out of universe, by some loophole, by some trick of semantics, there’s always some reason why Dick’s choices and decisions and feelings never matter as much as anyone else’s. That he’s just kinda meant to facilitate what everyone else needs or wants, and orbit around them providing support and validation, but he doesn’t get proprietary rights over anything in his life, even things that definitively came from him and no one else.

Its just....the logic itself is upsetting. 

Because like I was saying a second ago, it’d be one thing if the fandom as a whole concentrated more on Robin as Batman & Robin, rather than a common bond shared within the family. 

But they don’t. The focus on Batfam, in fandom, is on family. On these characters as a family. Either a dysfunctional one or a recovering one or a happy one or building bridges or burning bridges or reconciling or whatever....nine out of ten Batfam stories, at the end of the day, are about family.

So yeah, its frustrating, that in a fandom where the focus is so much on family and where these characters came from and how they arrived to be part of this family and what makes them a family....

That over and over it repeats: one way or another, Dick is the only one of these characters whose feelings about family, whose emotional, sentimental attachments don’t mean anything unless they’re focused on or about Bruce or his siblings. Family isn’t really allowed to mean anything else to him, than what’s best for them.....while they’re each allowed to have a wealth and breadth of emotional resonance and complexity regarding their second family and their first, their attachment to Robin and how it plays into their dynamics with Bruce and the other Robins, etc, etc.

So let’s recap....

Dick Grayson - not allowed to be angry, without it being deemed a character flaw, proof of a nasty temper, out of control anger, volatile, reckless. Never righteously angry, on his own behalf. For his siblings getting hurt, sure, he can be angry then, but if he’s ever angry for himself....its a flaw. Its a problem.

Dick Grayson - not allowed to be resentful. He’s not allowed to hold on to bitterness for Bruce taking the mantle, for others wearing it without consulting him, he’s not allowed to resent the fact that Tim has looked at this thing that means family more than anything else to Dick and decided that because Dick had the nerve to want to share it with a new brother, use it to bring him closer the exact same way he forged a brotherly bond with Tim through it......Tim’s justified in resenting and even hating the brother who gave it to him, trained him, stood by him for years and even when ‘giving it away’ still was right there pleading with him to stay because he still needed and wanted him by his side, wasn’t trying to kick him out or drive him away like Tim imagined, when Dick actually is the one who knows the reality of being kicked out of Wayne Manor.

Dick Grayson - not allowed to be proprietary. Any hint of possessiveness on his part is a flaw, a sign of him being controlling or overbearing or overstepping....he doesn’t get to claim rights of ownership to his memories of his parents via Robin or his choice to go by Dick or his costumes or anything.....his reasons for clinging to those things don’t matter nearly as much as whatever other people feel they can make of them - a joke, a mockery, making it their own, etc. Nothing is Dick’s....not even Wayne Manor is his home, really, for all that he lived in it longer than anyone but Bruce and Alfred...he can still be kicked out of it, he can still be denied it as a place to recover from great trauma because he’s needed elsewhere, nobody’s ever shown expressing to Dick that he should come back to the manor because its his home, he’s welcome and loved there and would be comforted there, its at best a place he’s trying to get away from because he’s only invited back as an attempt to ‘control him’ when he’s sick or injured. Even well into his twenties, any money he has via Bruce or inherited from the settlement after his parents’ death, isn’t really his money, its Bruce’s though I don’t ever see anyone talking about any money Tim spends as being Bruce’s or the Drakes’, etc.

Idk, I mean I’m just saying, its not really a surprise that people often deem Dick to be less interesting or compelling than the others, a bit more shallow or two dimensional, not as deep and rich to explore....

When right off the bat, its just implicitly understood by a bunch of people, it feels like, that there’s a whole list of feelings that Dick Grayson just flat out isn’t allowed to have, for and about himself and his own life and issues....because somehow, those get in the way of everyone else feeling everything they feel, and they take priority.

*shrugs*

Sorry to be a broken record, but I wouldn’t constantly have stuff to say on this topic if fandom wasn’t just as much a broken record when portraying dynamics this way.

[xiaomomowrites]

catch and release

Attack on Titan | Eremika

based off the 119 spoilers

Summary: “You want to talk to me,” Mikasa repeats instead, voice hoarse with disbelief. “Our last conversation ended in tears and a fist fight. Forgive me for feeling shocked at your sudden interest in my wellbeing.”  Eren had always been her rock, her ride or die, the very embodiment of home and comfort. And now… well.  She wanted to tell herself it was over, that the door was closed. And now, he comes in with his bullshit, forcing her to take a step back from the two she had taken forward.

you can find it on fanfiction.net once I post it lol {mikasa-heichou}

A/N: Alright so I saw the spoilers for 119 and I panicked. In my state of distress, I shit out this fic because I needed something to throw my feelings at. All I know is that Eren literally lost his head and then I saw a spoiler somewhere that Mikasa was injured?? I’m pretty sure it turned out to be fake, but I thought it would add some substance to this piece so I took it and ran lol.

Also! This is the rewritten and edited version of Change My Mind. That was my first fic I ever posted on ff and tumblr, and looking back at it, I saw how much I’ve improved since a year ago. So I took the dialogue of the fight and manipulated it to work well with the different circumstances, and here we are. The end piece turned out to be too different from the original (which I think is good!) so I had to rename it. I hope you enjoy, leave me some love! -u.n.

--

“Hey.” Eren greets nonchalantly with his face ridden of any emotion. Eren looks far off; his mind is elsewhere but he’s talking to her. Talking to her. After everything that had happened. Mikasa can’t say she wanted it, but she’s not horribly disappointed. 

Mikasa looks up from tending to the injury at hand. There are trace amounts of blood on her hands despite her efforts to scrub them clean: pink tinges her fingers like she’s blushing with her whole body, and had the situation been different, it would have been cute. Though, she can’t say that almost losing your life in battle for the millionth time was cute. Looking at him now and seeing that his presence felt like an obligation, she almost doesn’t want to respond. For once, his aura was completely unreadable.

“Eren.”

His eyes darted to her bare neck, taking in the sight of the pale skin that’s covered more often than not. There’s a weird feeling starting in his belly, but he chooses not to pay mind to it. With his newly mastered skill of compartmentalization, the feeling is gone before he can even register what it was. 

Eren leans against the door frame, long brown hair pulled back into a bun resting upon his occipital, and gives her a once over. It was a silent way of checking up on her, she thinks, because his eyes zero in on the blood spreading across the white fabric. She squirms under his gaze.

He tilts his chin up and back, gesturing towards her injury.

“You good?” he’s manages to make out. Mikasa’s mind reels at this. At first, she had simply thought he stopped by to grab something from the infirmary, not to chat with her. Besides, these days it seemed as though he wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. Her eyes narrowed a fraction and she focused her attention on her lap, something about the fit of her new pants suddenly became very interesting. Mikasa applied pressure to the wound and willed to the highest god Eren to go away before she exploded into an emotion really did not want to entertain.

“Fine,” she replies curtly, “everything’s fine.”

“You’re bleeding a lot.” Eren answers not a second too late, and Mikasa wants to huff in annoyance. He’s being very confusing.

This whole week he hadn’t spared a single glance at her, not having said anything to each other since the incident at the table where he confessed his true feelings. She might have thought that there was more reason for his actions, but lately she’s not sure what to believe at all. He loved them, and Mikasa was so sure of it up until now. He saved her when they were kids, and he didn’t even know her. Why would you spread yourself so thin and go so far as to put your life on the line, to save a girl you only knew the name of? Mikasa would rack her brain for an answer, but every time she tried, it always ended up inconclusive. And she remembers the scarf- of course she remembers the scarf- that stupid, red scarf that she held so dearly to her heart and clung to it for as long as she could. She remembers the comfort it would bring, the anxiety it would soothe, the depression it would hush, until the relic began to induce more harm than good.

Not to mention his relationship with Armin. They were thick as thieves, attached at the hip, practically brothers. Mikasa remembered when Armin woke up after claiming the colossal titan, and Eren had been the one to beat her to him. She remembers how he had flung his arms around his neck and held him close, relieved and emotional to see his best friend alive and well. She remembers the tears forming at the corners of his eyes and the anxiety physically leave Eren’s body when Armin sat up. You can’t fake that, she had concluded, that’s raw emotion.

He loved them.

But that’s it, he loved them, as in past tense. And no matter how much she might have wanted to deny that, his actions definitely backed up his claims. And even in the off chance that Eren really was just putting up a front, why would she want to get involved with all of that after every harsh word he’s thrown at her?

And now, all she had were hypotheticals.

Building up to that moment at the table, Eren had, sadly, disappointed her more times than she could count: insisting they stay at Marley when everyone wanted to go home, getting the corps more involved than they should, having three-hundred and maybe more soldiers killed by Armin’s hand, distancing himself, losing the light in his eyes that used to bring her comfort- Mikasa couldn’t pinpoint when the pain eventually numbed, and she began to expect less and less from him. Yet, no amount of detachment could stop the pain from stabbing her in the chest when he claimed to harbor nothing but hatred for someone who was a mere slave. 

So when he waltzes in here with the audacity to check up on the woman he apparently despises- to even bother putting up a front that he cared about her wellbeing- Mikasa is bound to get a little irritated. Mikasa inhales deeply and notices how her chest constricts the closer he gets. She’ll have to tell Hanji about the discomfort later. 

Or maybe, that was from Eren being in the room. 

“I’m fine. I’ve had worse.”

“Suit yourself.” Eren shrugs, and shifts his feet in a way that makes it seem like he’s about to leave. He begins to shuffle out, barely making it past the door frame before he turns back around, but the tension was too unbearable to not say anything. It sat heavy in the air and suffocated him, and even though Eren had willed himself to create distance between them for both of their sakes, he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her. He just needed to see that she was alright, even if he had no right to know. But as Eren thought for a fleeting moment that maybe it wasn’t worth rubbing salt in the wound, it was too late to change his mind. The brunet sighs, long and deep, before leaning against the wood. His arms come to cross his chest as he speaks. 

“Okay. Let’s talk.”

Mikasa looks up briefly and meets his intense gaze before redirecting her eyes back to her hands. Words could not describe the amount of discomfort she is feeling right now, and the thought in itself pained her more than she’d like to admit. Eren had always been her rock, her ride or die, the very embodiment of home and comfort. And now… well.

“There is nothing to talk about, Eren. I have nothing to say to you.” Mikasa answers evenly. She almost applauds herself for maintaining her composure. Eren frowns, a sign that he was not going to drop the conversation that easily. Mikasa quickly remembers how stubborn he is; the trait is both a blessing and a curse. 

“I think you do have something to say to me, otherwise you wouldn’t be fidgeting with your hands like you always do when you’re nervous.” Eren says sharply. 

She blinks slowly and wills herself to breathe. “Okay,” Mikasa tries not to let any of her feelings seep through, “I don’t want to talk to you about it.”

“Alright,” she hears Eren huff, “I’m going to ask one more time, and then afterwards you’re not allowed to ask again: what is it?”

Mikasa recoils at his choice in words. Not allowed--

“Is there-” Mikasa chokes. He cannot be serious. The balls on this one. “You wanna ease up a little bit? You come to me, demanding answers, and then you say I’m not allowed to ask again.” 

Mikasa watched him move with a look on her face that resembled a mix of disgust and curiosity, but nothing like respect. Eren drags a hand over his mouth and down his chin as he picks up the nearest chair. He’s making a big scene out of this, she knows. Unceremoniously, he drops the chair in front of her bed and straddles it, muscled forearms come to rest on the top of the chair as he looks at her heatedly.

“I want to talk to you to settle this because things haven’t been sitting well with me, either.” Had she known any better, it looked like this conversation was just as painful for him as it was for her. 

'I wonder why,' she almost wants to say. But no, she refused to get her hopes up. Mikasa spent the past couple of days telling herself he was living his best life with her out of his hair, that he was able to move on faster than her. She wanted to tell herself it was over, that the door was closed. And now, he comes in with his bullshit, forcing her to take a step back from the two she had taken forward.

“You want to talk to me,” Mikasa repeats instead, voice hoarse with disbelief. “Our last conversation ended in tears and a fist fight. Forgive me for feeling shocked at your sudden interest in my wellbeing.” 

Eren swallows. He licks his lips, eyes darting to the left as he composes an answer in his head. “I know that this situation is… unfortunate,” his voice was gruff, “but we’re in Marley, and these are my days in Marley that, one way or another, you’ve agreed to. I’m doing everything I can to work towards our freedom, and honestly, Mikasa, the way you’re reacting to it is unfair.” 

“Eren,” she warns, “I don’t think you want to start a conversation with me about what’s fair.” Her shift in tone causes his gaze to harden. “This is way more intense than any of us could have asked for. Sasha died, Eren. I joined the corps because of you. Armin wiped out a whole naval fleet for you.” 

Suddenly Eren is shaking his head like she said something that offended him. He holds a hand up to ensure he has the next word. 

“You need to understand in case you haven’t yet: everything I do is for a reason. I would never- I would never hurt you like that not- not deliberately without reason, and I-” Eren inhales sharply, pausing to recollect his thoughts. His mind darts to their talk only days before, and reluctantly recalls the utter heartbreak written on her face along with the betrayal painted across Armin’s. Was he wrong to think he can just hit 'undo' on all of this? His chest squeezes. “I am doing everything I can, every week, to bring home something to our people in Paradis-”

“Eren, I- I am trying to make things perfect here,”  Mikasa flails her free arm before aggressively pointing down the floor beneath her, “Okay? So that you can have everything that you want-”

“So I’m doing this just for me, is that what this is? I’m doing this just for me.” his words are laced with condescension, dipped in impatience. He leans forward, upset at the turn the conversation had taken, though he can’t say he didn’t expect this. “Mikasa, if that’s what you think, then this is a really sad conversation.” Eren bites, but the woman in front of him doesn’t so much as flinch. By now, she’s used to his temper. She knows it like the back of her hand.

“It wouldn’t be the first.”

Eren sighs, his nostrils flaring from the pot of anger that was boiling in his stomach. But he watches her expression, and something inside softens every so slightly. Despite the facade she’s tried so hard to put up, he can still tell that she’s… sad.  “Look, Mikasa, I don’t know what to tell you. Sasha is gone, that moment is gone, but that’s not the first time we’ve seen someone we love die, you and I of all people should know this. So really, there’s nothing we can do about that but see this through. It’s what Sasha would have wanted.”

The mention of Sasha’s death strikes a chord in her. Her heart squeezes at the memory of her late best friend, and the look that spreads across her face depicts all five stages of grief in five seconds. Voice cracking, she says softly, “I don’t know, Eren, maybe you should have been there.”

It’s the most emotion she’s shown on her face today, and Eren knows he’s struck a chord.

Tongue in cheek, he decides to drop the conversation. They seemed to have reached an impasse anyway, and he didn’t come here to fight. Silence falls over the two, and Mikasa realizes only then that the wound’s screams of protest could no longer go unnoticed. She winces, visibly, and only then does Eren take note of her pain. The wound wasn’t even that bad, but it stung enough to demand medical attention. The shifter stands, ungracefully pushing the chair back to where it had been prior. 

“I’ll go get Hanji.” he mutters when he’s halfway out the door.

“No,” she stops him. “No. Get Armin.”

Eren says nothing, only pauses to make sure he heard correctly, “Get Armin.” he repeats. His voice is flat and unnamed. The thought of the two together immediately puts an unwelcomed, ugly thought into his head. 

“Yep,” Mikasa breaks eye contact applying pressure to the spot that has been annoying her for the past half hour. “Get Armin.”

Eren scoffs, and Mikasa pushes down the inexplicable anger that forces its way up her throat with her full body weight. “Okay, I’ll get Armin.” she hears him mumble under his breath. 

Not too long after, Mikasa feels a gentle knock at the door that brings her an odd sense of comfort. Nothing like how she had been feeling moments prior.

“Heyaz,” a gentle, familiar voice greets her. Mikasa looks up, eyes glossy from her conversation with Eren. “You okay?” 

She shakes her head, throwing her free hand up and letting it slap down on her thigh in frustration. “What am I doing wrong, Armin?” Mikasa exhales loudly. Armin comes up to kneel in front of her, and she duly noted how his aura is nothing like the aggressive one she had just faced. Instead, Armin brings a hand to cover her own- the one tending to the wound- and slowly pries it off so he can take a look. 

“Nothing,” he says. “you’re doing the best you can.” 

The blond reaches over and takes more gauze to wrap around the wound, but not after wiping it clean of any excess blood. He applies pressure to the wound before wrapping it smoothly around her body. Subconsciously, she leans into his touch. Armin offers her a light smile.

“Hey,” he cups her cheeks in both hands. “It’s just a tough situation. That’s all that it is.”

Mikasa pouts. “It’s getting tougher.”

“Yeah,” Armin wipes at a stray tear he knows she wouldn’t have wanted to escape, “I know.” Brushing hair away from her forehead, he palms at her nape to bring her head closer to his. Armin presses his lips to her forehead and physically feels the tension leave her shoulders. He coaxes her to lean into his shoulder, and Mikasa takes the opportunity and runs with it. She presses her nose into the crook of his neck and revels in the way Armin handles her delicately.

It was nice to feel protected.

Eren eyes the interaction from where he lingers by the door, his two (former) best friends too wrapped up in each other to notice his presence. His heart sinks into his stomach when he notices how gentle Armin is with her, how he always has been with her, and how he couldn’t seem to give her that. 

He sees Armin shift, beginning to pull back, and Eren startles a bit. He really should get going before the others notice he’s been gone awhile, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from them. He aches all over. It’s not some sharp, immediate physical pain he can identify, no. It consumes him, spreading through his body like a wildfire just by seeing the damage he’s done to the people he loved the most. The silver lining that Eren kept having to remind himself of, however, was that at least they had each other to seek out. 

When this was all over, Eren blindly wished, he’d take them both back in a heartbeat. He’d laugh and tell them all about how he hated every second of what he had to do. Hell, he’d even pat Armin on the back for the good punch he threw at him. 

That is, if they survived that long. Eren wasn’t stupid, he knows better than to speak for the future. 

“Thank you,” he hears Mikasa mutter. She pulls away to lightly press her lips to the blond’s cheek before pushing him by the shoulders, presumably telling him she can take it from there.

“You’ll be okay on your own?” Armin asks. 

“Always. And Armin,” she calls him back. “I love you, okay?” 

Armin smiles at her sadly and squeezes her hand. “Of course. I love you, too.”

“I just wanted you to know,” she gazes at him, an indescribable look on her face. “We just. We never know, you know?” 

He chuckles. “I know.”

The moment is so tender, so sincere, and full of words Eren could never seem to bring himself to say. And oh god he can’t watch-

Eren stalks forward until he’s completely out of sight and leans against the wall. He takes an impossibly deep breath and wills himself to regain his aloof composure before anyone can see him vulnerable. 

--

“Where’s your scarf?” Eren asks her the next day, unable to stay away for too long.

“I… don’t know.”

"You...misplaced it?" He hesitated, afraid of her answer.

"Um, I...yes."

He fiddles with the fabric in his back pocket, pulling it out when he's a comfortable distance. “You really need to keep track of this.” he teases, but she smiles warily at the fabric. Eren easily pinpoints her discomfort, but struggles with a way to confront it without starting anything. 

“Eren, where did you…?”

“Uh,” he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “what’s her name… Louise gave it to me. She said you left it in-” Realization dawns on him, and his face falters slightly. The miniscule amount of confidence minutes before walking in was now gone. “You left it on purpose, didn’t you?”

He looks so sad, Mikasa doesn’t know what to say. She supposes that now it’s her turn to break his heart. “Yes, Eren.”

His posture slouches slightly, looking defeated. He tugs at the frayed edges anxiously. “Why?”

“Eren, that scarf,” she gestures towards the red fabric, “it used to mean everything to me. It brought me comfort and warmth, and it even smelled like you. Thank you for that, really. But ever since you called me a slave…”

“Mikasa,” Eren cringes, face scrunching up as he remembers crying so hard he almost threw up. 

“That scarf is a leash.” she continues, resolve strong, “It’s a chain that binds me to you, and that’s all I can see it as now. It’s not the same.”

He sighs, fingers buried into the scarf, “You know I never meant it like that when I gave it to you. That was never my intention.”

“I know,” she reassures him with a pat on the shoulder, and he scolds himself for wanting to be closer when all he’s ever done was push her away. Mikasa smiles at him sadly, “Times change, though. Things change.”

“Well this… sucks.” He groans, embarrassed, but more hurt than ever, at how this was turning out.

Mikasa laughs. It’s been so long since she’s seen his ears tinged red with embarrassment. She reaches out and tugs on it like she used to when they were younger, and revels in the way he winces, but makes no effort to pull away. A wave of nostalgia crashes over them both. 

“It doesn’t have to be a sad thing, Eren. You’re free, right? That’s what you’ve always wanted. I’m done.”

The words “you’re free” punched him in the face and called him lonely. 

No, Eren’s mind immediately protests. The thought of being free from her felt so inexplicably wrong. So out of character, and that the two of them being together was supposed to be inevitable. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wanted to reach out and grab her, hold onto her wrist like he’s done before, and keep her close to him. Eren wanted to protect her, put her in his pocket to shield her from all the bad things in the world. But as he looked at her, really looked at her, she seemed to say, “Just so you know, I’m perfectly okay with taking care of myself” without actually verbalizing it. Eren sees how happy Mikasa seems. She’s glowing; an obvious light twinkles in her eyes as she looks at him. Her cheeks seem fuller, posture straightened, an overall healthy vibe radiating off of her. Eren knows, that no matter how badly he wants to hold onto this, he can’t. 

He won’t. 

“So you don’t want it back…?” he throws the question at her as his Hail Mary, a final attempt, just to say that he exhausted all possibilities. 

“No.” Mikasa answers, all traces of finality present.  She steps closer to him and covers a warm hand with her own, pushing the scarf back down to his sides. As she begins to pull away, Eren twists his hand free from the scarf to hold onto hers. Her eyes widened in surprise at the contact, but she doesn’t move away. In fact, Mikasa lets him lace their fingers together.

Eren squeezes. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you,” she offers, “I’m proud of me, too. And so is Armin.”

Eren chortles. “So you and Armin, huh?” his tone teases her, but there’s no trace of malice or jealousy.

“What?” she blanches.

“I mean, it’s great. He’s so good to you. You deserve someone who appreciates you.”

“Oh, no, we’re not- Armin and I aren’t a thing.” she quickly negates the assumption before either of them can entertain the thought any longer. Silence falls over the two once more, no longer filled with tension, but with comfort. The growing tension between them had obviously weighed more on their shoulders than either of them would have liked to admit.  

"I miss you.” 

The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them. 

“Oh,” Mikasa cooes and palms at his cheek, “I miss you, too.”

“Then I don’t understand,” he’s scrambling for some kind of purchase on her, “why are we breaking apart?” 

Mikasa is quiet for a moment. She bites her lip, pondering, until, “I haven’t had a moment to properly grieve.”

“You don’t have to grieve alone,” Eren adds, “I’m still here.”

“Eren, I have to grieve everything, everything since the day of the Battle of Trost.” she tells him sternly, “There is so much to cope and you know that. I have a lot to undergo before I can be with anyone.” 

“Mikasa-” 

“But,” she puts her hand up, interrupting him. “I still choose you.” 

“...Huh?” he cocks his head, clearly confused by her shift in decisions. “But you just said-”

“It’s one thing to be bonded to you because of my bloodline, Eren, but it’s another to choose you because I love you.”

There it was. Cat’s out of the bag now. 

Eren stares at her blankly, dumbfounded. Despite his lack of a reaction, Mikasa feels no heartbreak or discomfort. 

“I know, there was no huge, romantic or pretty way of saying it” she smiles a little. “I’ve lived with these feelings for so long, Eren. I think you know by now if you love me or not, and at this point, time won’t really change that. But it’s okay, I’ve made my peace with either outcome.”

For a moment he’s just looking at her, like a volcano that wants to- needs to- erupt, so badly that the magma begins to seep along the edges. He wants to tell her, but the fact that she had literally just told him she’d be totally fine without him seemed to be a pretty big barrier. 

Mikasa seems to understand the intense look in his eyes. “What is it?” she watches him lick his lips in hesitation, searching for the right words in this semi-panicked state. He seemed to be measuring his next words carefully, as if saying the wrong thing could just send her away again, just like that. He’d already made that mistake once. Her voice coaxes him back into reality, however, when she says gently, “talk to me. You can tell me anything.” 

“I do.” 

She froze. “What?”

“Mikasa,” he grabs her hand and puts it to his chest desperately. “Mikasa I love you, what are we doing?”

“You…” the words die on her tongue as she hears her own heartbeat in her ears louder than his words. “Oh my god…”

“I shouldn't have waited until now, I know. It was stupid, and I'm sorry. But I love you. I love you.” He almost looked like a figment of her imagination at this point, saying these things she had only heard him declare in her dreams. 

“Eren, I…” she pauses, really looking at him. His look of sincerity and puppy dog eyes she hasn't seen in years seemed to win her over. It seems so unreal and her knee-jerk reaction was to cling to logic: “We...we still have a job to finish, we’re not done yet, the...the war, our friends, I just…”

“But I want it now.” He states the obvious, halting any other reasoning she may have. Mikasa melts at his admission and she realizes how much tension she had been harboring in her shoulders when she felt them relax at his words. 

“It's going be you, Eren. Just give me time,” she reasons. 

“Do we even have time, though? I've just seen so much, we’re not guaranteed a tomorrow. You've never been more than a hundred feet away from me, and it took me ten years to get to you,” Eren tells her, his hand still holding onto hers as if she would just run away as soon as he let go.

“Okay,” Mikasa answers shakily. “Okay. So this, this is us now, right? We're done messing around.”

“Yeah, I- god, yeah I'm done.” He pulls her into a hug, so desperate, so tight, like Eren Jeager would be damned if he ever let her go again. He presses a kiss to her forehead as he feels her arms wrap around his own figure, “we're done being stupid.”

“Good because I don't wanna mess this up, Eren. I can't lose you again.” 

“I know, I'm sorry. I love you.”

Her muffled giggles against his chest send him up to cloud nine. He can hear the smile in her voice as she tells him, “I love you, too.”